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by the time the sun was setting, camp barely looked like camp anymore. the campers that had spent the past three months running from cabin to cabin had been picked up hours ago. said cabins cleaned up and empty, ready for the winter that slowly crept around the corner. the lake was still. for the first time all summer, there wasn't a schedule to follow, no activities, no headcounts. no one asking where the arts-and-crafts supplies were. you and the eleven other counselors were the only ones left, closing out the summer with a well deserved bonfire barbecue.

martin, sakai and jaehyun dragged picnic tables to the beach before setting the folding chairs up to surround the fire, while jungwon set up his speaker, viv and lex arguing about whose playlist should be shuffled. the smell of charcoal hung heavy in the air as heeseung started up the grill, expertly cutting thick pieces of beef while brin stole bites directly off the serving tray.

he's rolling his eyes the third time her tongs chase his, “those are for everybody,” he grumbles, she nods with a grin – pushing a big piece past her lips. “mhm!” she's reaching for another piece, but he's nudging her away with his hip. she easily reaches around him, popping the pork into her mouth before he can steal it back. “brin.” he tries to sound stern, but the natural softness of his voice never leaves him. “you've eaten like a full cow by now,” he jokes and she grins wide up at him, shoulders lifting in a shrug.

“put more on,” she says simply.

mindless chatter is heard all throughout the beach, a red solo cup clutched in every hand. sunoo is stationed behind a folding table he deemed the bar, two coolers hidden underneath filled with juice and several bottles that had been hidden for the better half of the summer and an obnoxious amount of fruit. mia argues as he hands her drink over, “you shouldn't eyeball vodka,” she nags and he's snorting out a laugh. “it literally won't matter in ten years, just drink.” he encourages, repeating what had become his mantra these last few days.

and no matter how scary that sounded, he was right. all the moments that seemed huge, everything that made you cry, smile, laugh – most likely wouldn't even matter ten years from now. but that's what made every last moment that much more special, what made the goodbyes that you all knew were looming that much more devastating. because despite promising to stay in touch, you all knew that this was all temporary and in ten years, everything would be so different. you all would be completely different.

you sit close to the fire with the other girls as the chaos settles, slowly rotating a marshmallow over the flames. the heat warming the bare skin of your thighs left by the dress you picked this morning. subconsciously putting more thought into your appearance, knowing what tonight meant. it was the last night, yes, but it always was a last chance. so you’re choosing the strapless dress that hugged your frame, a bright orange with pretty pink flowers scattered over it, the colors seeming to pop against your sun-kissed skin.

you hoped you looked as pretty as you felt and that a certain someone took notice, the moment he's drifting into your thoughts – your eyes shift to where he stands. leaning casually against one of the surfboards, head tipped back as he laughs at something jungwon said. jongseong park. jay. you remember reading his name on the welcome sheet on your very first day, the man in charge of the music lodge and all of the instruments inside. your mentor for the next three months and the man who you'd be replacing at the end of the summer when he left for grad school.

that's what he was introduced to you as, but after meeting him, after spending every single day with him for the last ninety-two days, he had become so much more. he was funny, smart, kind, generous and extremely talented. the kids loved him, looked up to him and he gave them a good reason to with how patient and encouraging he was with every last one of them. he was an all around good guy and him being without a doubt the hottest guy you've ever laid eyes on only added to that.

jay was sexy without even trying to be, from his facial expressions to the way his fingers moved over the strings of his guitar, everything he did seemed to draw you in. and god you were so bad at hiding it. from day one, you couldn't keep your eyes from finding him in the crowd, couldn't mask the insistent blush of your cheeks or the way giggles would slip past your lips before you could even think twice.

and the craziest part of all of it, was that he also seemed interested in you. you never missed the way the touches would linger, the way his eyes would drop to your lips before snapping back up to your eyes. you've even caught him watching you from the pier one night when you and the other girls went out for a late swim. but you never once made a move, just treaded dangerously close to the line and it all but drove you insane.

“you're drooling,” you hear from beside you and your body startles, nearly dropping your marshmallow into the fire. viv laugh besides you, leaning into your shoulder as she does. you can already feel the heat rising in your cheeks. “no i'm not,” you uselessly defend and she nods as if she actually believes you, “why don't you go say something?” brin makes an attempt at whispering, leaning across viv to look at you.

you feel the anxiety blooming in your chest before she's even finishing her sentence, “are you crazy!?” while you were like 89% sure jay also thought you were cute, there was still that 11% chance that he was just being nice. and you were terrified by that 11%. viv lifts her drink to her lips, taking a big gulp of it before she's setting in the sand, deciding she was done with it. “he leaves tomorrow... forever.” she reminds with a pointed look. “and then in ten years, none of this will matter...”

as if he could sense he was being talked about, jay's eyes drift in your direction. not even half surprised that he caught you and the other girls staring, it sort of been the theme of the summer. and the way he wiggles his fingers in a slight wave makes everything worse, because you're gasping, marshmallow actually hitting the ground as laughter erupts between your friends.

the night stretches just like that, conversations bouncing between you, drinks and food being passed and lingering stares between you and jay that everyone else pretending they didn't notice. by the time the sky was dark and the stars were twinkling, everything seemed to settle. the feeling of finality that everyone had been avoiding thickening with each flicker of the fire.

“i can't believe i won't be back here next year,” heeseung says, earning a chorus of loud eye rolls from each of you. he's only mentioned it a trillion times in the past three months. “oh my god, wait! it's your last summer!?” lex fakes a gasp that has laughter spreading, heeseung lifts his middle finger in her direction while brin slaps at her shoulder playfully. “cut him some slack, he's been here since they filled the lake.” she teases.

jungwon is quick to interject, a smirk playing on his lips. “nah, that was jay. he poured the water in himself, one cup at a time,” he punctuates his words with a tip of his own cup, letting the last few drops of his liquor hit the sand. “seriously, though, we're going to miss you guys.” sakai starts and you can already hear the quiver in her tone. “it's going to be so weird not smelling brin making bacon before sunrise, or hearing jay fighting with the kids for hiding his drumsticks, no more heeseung waking us up past midnight for ramyeon...” her lips form a pout before she can even finish her thought and you're reaching over to hug her.

“aw.” martin coos, setting down his drink before clapping his hands together. “think tonight calls for some goodbye speeches,” agreement is immediate and it's not long before brin is standing. she talks about her love for the camp, when she started and how close she's become with every one of you, highlighting funny moments, sad ones and ones that she swears she'll never forget. heeseung follows, starting with “i can't believe this is my last summer...” and ending with the same words, head shaking.

jay stands next and you feel the way your heart flutters for no good reason. his hand rubs at the back of his neck, teeth tugging at his lower lip as he fought to put the right words together. he looked handsome, face lit by the fire, hair dyed blond after losing a dare to one of the campers on the first week. it suited him. “i hate public speaking,” jungwon leads the chorus of boos that follow his words, pulling a laugh from him which seems to ease the tension between his shoulders.

he continues on despite the thump in his chest, despite knowing you're sat less than a few feet away, watching him. “honestly, this place has been home for a long time. i started when i was seventeen?” he ignores the groans that come from the group, out of all the counselors, he's been there the longest and he never let them forget it. “get off the stage, unc!” jungwon shouts, hands cupped around his mouth.

jay's eyes drift from the lake, over to the music lodge sitting at the edge of the camp, back to the friends he's grown closer to every summer. and then to you and the way you smile at him has him losing his train of thought for a full three seconds. “seriously, though, i've spent almost every summer here and i thought that would make leaving harder but it isn't. of course, i'll miss the campers, you guys and obviously my music room, but...” his eyes are back on yours and everyone notices the way his gaze, “i think the reason it's kind of easy is because i know everything i love is being left in good hands,” exaggerated gasps are heard around the fire.

jay does his best to ignore them, eyes never breaking from yours. his gaze said everything he had been swallowing for the past few months, mixed with the regret of not having the courage to make a move sooner. stood in his own way each and every time. “yn, i'm so relieved to know you'll be the one replacing me. you're so good with the kiddos, you're smart, funny... patient and creative... way more organized that i've ever been. thank you for making leaving a little bit easier, i appreciate you,” an unmistakable blush has settled on his cheeks and he's moving to sit, “and you look pretty in all your dresses,” the words are jumbled together, alcohol giving him just enough courage to mumble what he had been thinking every morning you walked into the music lodge.

the silence lasts for less than a second before obnoxious cheers erupt through the group. “better late than never!” jaehyun whistles, while sunoo claps wildly beside him. apparently, he had mentioned it to everyone but you the way they were reacting like it was this long awaited thing. it was. you ignore the flutter in your chest long enough to thank him. you can't stop replaying the last three words of his speech: 'all your dresses'. all like every one of them? which meant he had noticed every one. and he thought every one was pretty.

and he waited until the night before he was leaving to say something about it. bittersweet wasn't even the word.

the rest of the evening passes in a blur. all of your crowded around the fire, reminiscing and sharing secrets. it has the expected warm feeling the end of summer would, but you can't seem to fully enjoy it with the way your eyes keep drifting to jay. as the hours tick on, the group starts to break apart around the beach. heeseung and martin had volunteered to get more drinks and jay had hopped up to help, since then the three of them had been seated at the table a few feet away. they're talking quietly but you don't miss the not so discreet way one of them would point in your direction.

viv and mia only make it worse, shoving and hitting your arm wildly when jay finally stands to head toward the coolers. “okay, okay. go now.” you hear one of them say, nearly shoving you off of your chair. and you don't miss the kissing noises they make as you're walking away.

the coolers sit near one of the set up of kayaks that jaehyun swore he'd get put away before sundown. it was ten pm. jay is already crouched beside one when you approach, pushing aside melting ice as he searched for another drink. “hi,” your heart is pounding so rough against your chest, it's all you can muster. you catch the way his hand stills, body stilling for just a second before he's shaking it off – pulling two wine coolers from the ice before standing to face you. he hands one over with the prettiest of smiles.

“hey.” he says through one of his nervous laughs you've gotten so familiar with.

“i liked your speech,” it's all you can think of saying because it's all you can think about. his gaze drops to the sand, a hand lifting to rub at the back of his neck. and for the first time all evening, all summer even – jay actually looks embarrassed. the past three months, you've been the one blushing, the one caught staring, you've been so sure you've been making a fool out of yourself with your loud crush. when it reality, he's been noticing you this entire time too. he was just so much better at hiding it.

his shoulders lift in a slight shrug, “i was just being honest.”

“honest? you were flirting with me,” you accuse playfully and that has his cheeks going pink. “oh my god,” he laughs and it's a real pretty one, it has a smile lifting on your lips almost immediately. his eyes find yours for a moment, but he's quickly finding something else to focus on. and then he's slowly coming back, allowing himself to actually look. his stare is so intense that it has you shifting, searching for something to say, anything to fill the silence. your lips part, but he's beating you to it. “i meant it. i really like you, yn. but...”

he's getting ready to reject you, you can just tell. jay didn't like loose ends and despite all the quiet glances, subtle flirting that you're now just realizing was flirting, he was still leaving in the morning. he was starting a whole new chapter of his life and there could be no maybes left behind. so he needed a clean break. you're interrupting him before he has the chance. “and you said i was pretty in all my dresses. you know, i knew you were staring every morning... you'd always act like you were look at your bon jovi poster,”

jay is letting out a low laugh, “it's a nice poster!” he defends. “but yeah, it was you.” it feels so weird to say out loud, he had been so careful all summer and admitting that he had been admiring you this whole time didn't feel like him. “you looked good in every one. extremely distracting by the way.” he's twisting the cap off of his drink as he speaks, taking a long sip from it.

and you realize why he's not holding back anymore, the semi permanent flush of his cheeks and glossy look in his eye. “every one?” you prompt with a grin, following his lead and taking a sip from your drink too.

he nods without a moment of hesitation, “all of them.” the confidence in his voice catches you off guard, because this was jay we were talking about. the same jay that spent three months carefully putting distance between you every time you got too close. who would find excuses to rush away whenever you'd start flirting with him. the same jay who'd look away whenever you caught him staring, spouting off nonsense facts about bon jovi instead of saying what he truly wanted to.

that jay was looking at you through hooded eyes, gaze dragging over the curves of your body. and a lazy smile stretches on his face that makes your stomach twist. he's nodding his head as if he's confirming a question he had asked himself. “yeah, all of them.” he says quietly. “the long blue one with the slit on the side,” your lips part slightly, the exact morning flashing in your mind. it was only the third day and he called you in early to do one final sweep before the campers were arriving later that day. you remember just throwing the dress on, annoyed that you were up before sunrise when everyone else was sleeping in.

“you remember that?” he's nodding before you're even done speaking. “yeah, you wouldn't stop giving me attitude all day.” he's laughing with a shake of his head. he's taking a step closer, turning so he's facing you fully and you feel your stomach twist. “the white one you wore to the talent show,” he continues, lip tucked between his teeth. he had stood on the other side of the room the entire show, barely speaking two words to you when it was over.

“and...” his head tilts slightly, eyes dragging over you in the way that makes it so painfully obvious that he's been forcing himself not to look at you all summer. he's grinning. “the short orange one you're wearing now,” you actually feel the way your brain short-circuits, eyes wide as your jaw drops. it's usually the other way around, you coming onto him and him ignoring you. so now that the roles were reversed, you have no idea what to do with yourself.

“okay, stop.” you're laughing, hand lifting to slap his shoulder. “what? i can't compliment you? you compliment me all the time.” you shake your head quickly, “tit's different when you do it. especially now.” you point out and jay goes quiet, because he knows you're right. it is different. everything is. summer was over, all the campers were gone, he was leaving tomorrow morning and everything just felt... heavier?

before either of you can say anything else, a scream cuts across the beach. both of you turn at the sound to find sunoo pealing his shirt from his body, sprinting toward the water. “LAST SWIM OF THE SUMMER!” he shouts as he runs. chaos breaks out within seconds, your friends abandoning their drinks and kicking off their shoes. shirts and shorts fly through the air as they reveal the swimsuits they'd been wearing all night.

the firelight flickers across the beach as everyone runs toward the lake. viv jumps on jaehyun's back, his hands clutching her thighs as he runs. jungwon, martin, sakai and lex have already started climbing up a nearby cliff. mia and heeseung are in search of a beach ball. it's so obvious that everyone was trying to drag out time, trying to cram in as many 'lasts' as they could before morning was rolling in and all of this was ending.

you're smiling, gaze shifting back to jay. and you find him already look at you, he smiles brightly before tapping his bottle against yours, tipping it back and swallowing the rest down. you do the same. his head tilts toward the lake once you're finished, brow lifted slightly. “race you,” he's running off before you can even register what he's said, bottle ditched somewhere in the sand and you're quick to follow behind him.

jay's laugh is loud and unrestrained as he runs into the water, pulling his shirt over his head in the process. you've never heard him laugh like that, ever and it's incredibly contagious. your dress joins the liter of clothing at the shoreline as you rush in. the lake is freezing and you're squealing the second it hits your legs. jay turns to face you, he's already fully submerged himself into the water and he's reaching a hand out to you.

“you gotta jump right in,” you've been saying that to him all summer. the irony is funny to you. still, you take hold of his hand and he's easily tugging you toward him. the two of you float there, treading water and staring at each other. it's like he was getting in all the looking he had missed out in the past months. “what?” you're laughing and he's shrugging his shoulder slightly. “just remembering...” you hate the way his words make you feel. you don't want to think about it being the last night, or all the time wasted. so you splash him instead, a hard wave that soaks his hair. jay's laughing, hand pushing his hair back out of his eyes to see that you've swam away and he's quick to swim after you.

you're swimming right through the middle of the impromptu game of water volleyball, jaehyun deciding you're apart of his team and sending jay to join heeseung's side. sunoo teases mia about winning now that they had you and she had jay, she rolls her eyes before roughly serving the ball. it hits jaehyun in the chest and viv shouts from the pier for you all to be careful with her man, brin laughing beside her.

across the lake, jungwon, martin, sakai and lex have made it to the top of the cliff. their voices echo as they argue about what actually counts as a flip. martin deciding to shut them all up by launching himself off of the rock, body flipping naturally in the air whooping loudly just before he's hitting the water with a loud splash and lex follows behind him, looking less graceful but gaining a supportive chant from the girls when she resurfaces.

the game of volleyball melts into a shouting match after the first three rounds, arguments about points that nobody had been even keeping track of in the first place, sunoo swearing that he didn't cheat and heeseung and jay going back and forth about something neither of them seem particularly passion about. the beach ball floats away forgotten by both teams.

eventually, you're paddling your way back toward the dock, pulling yourself up beside viv and brin. water drips from your legs as you stretch them out in front of you, back laying against the warm wood. viv immediately scoots closer, grin wide as her eyes drift to where jay and heeseung fight to pull each other under the water. “so,” you feel the heat rise in your cheeks. “does he like you? does he want to kiss and get married and have five kids?” she's asking and you're barking out a laugh.

“yeah, right.” you roll your eyes. “we didn't say much, really. just that he liked me dresses.” you catch the way brin rolls her eyes, letting out a soft huff. “he's hopeless,” she sighs, but is quickly moving to change the subject, pointing across the lake as sakai shoves jungwon into the water before jumping off behind him. “can you believe she's going to be in charge next year?” brin had spent the past three months training sakai on how to run this place and come next year, she'd be the new head counselor.

viv is shaking her head, “wild. this is the same girl who faked pneumonia to get out of cooking duties, by the way.” you're snorting out a laugh. “i'm going to miss this,” the admission settles between all three of you. waking up and not have your friends right outside your door, no more staying up late to watch the stars. this place somehow became home without any of you noticing and in less than twelve hours it all would be over.

the dock shifts slightly, a large splash following and the sound of jaehyun's laughter. viv is rolling her eyes, kicking her foot out to him but instead of hitting him, he's catching it by the ankle. he's tugging her slightly, earning a swift kick with the other leg. he's laughing. “come here,” his thumb traces her ankle, hand slowly dragging up her calf. “i'm having a conversation,” viv says, gesturing between you and brin.

jaehyun is shrugging quickly. “you can have it in the water,” his fingers tighten around her leg, a sly grin spreading across his lips and anyone can guess what he's thinking. “jaehyun, don't.” he's looking up at her, mischief dancing through his eyes. “what? i'm just touching you. i love you. i can't touch you?” they're ignoring the gagging noises that come from beside them just like they always do.

“i can feel you–” she is not even able to finish her sentence before he's yanking his arm toward him, successfully pulling viv off of the dock and into the water. he catches her instantly, arms around her waist as her legs secure themselves around his waist. “say bye to your friends,” he says already swimming further into the water.

a few feet away, heeseung is waving both his arms in your direction. “are you two planning on sitting there all night?” he shouts with his hands now cupped around his mouth. “maybe!” you're shouting back and he's quickly shaking his head, waving you both over. “get in the water!” brin is quickly pointing at you, despite the fact her legs and hair were still dry. “she doesn't want to,”

“what!? you're still dry,” you point out. she's rolling her eyes, slipping in just as heeseung has started swimming over. you follow behind her. the group gathers together slowly, floating in the middle of the lake as conversations overlap. you're all drifting between each other, talking about plans for the next few weeks, sharing excitement for next year, worries. jungwon's group eventually get their fix of cliff diving and join the rest of you in the water. lex puling herself comfortably on sunoo's back, reaching forward to steal his drink. mia starts another argument this time with sakai about who slept in the most.

and somehow in the midst of all of this, you end up beside jay again, without even fully realizing it. at least that's what you tell yourself when your shoulder bumps against his. one moment, he's laughing at something heeseung says, the very next you're stealing his attention away, in your tiny yellow bikini that barely covers yours ass. he knows. he checked.

you're so close to him, but you're completely enthralled in conversations. laughing loudly and engaging freely. your legs brushes against his whenever a soft wave rolls through and each time neither of you move away or say anything about it. you don't realize that the two of you are floating away at first. you were listening to the others, jungwon's laugh carrying across the water as martin exposes him for never really being on duty.

their voices come and go with the ways, but slowly it seems like they're fading into the background. you shift onto your break, letting the water hold your weight as you stare up at the twinkling stars scattered across the sky. jay stays close to you, tanned skin glistening in the moonlight. his hair is wet and slicked back, dark eyes sparkling as he watches you.

“you stare a lot,” you're pointing out with a laugh.

he's quick to nod his head, not even bothering to deny it. his hands find their way underneath you, floating uselessly beneath your back as if he's holding you up – but not actually touching you. just looking for excuses to be close to you, to touch you. even if it was through the water. “you're so different tonight, i'm not used to this jay.” you're saying after a minute and jay's gaze is dragging up to your eyes.

“am i?” he's asking like it's not the most obvious thing. “yes. you're actually looking at me, complimenting me, not rushing away when i get too close. where was this all summer?” besides the time the two of you spent working together in the music lodge, there were very few times where you were alone. no matter how much you wanted to be. “i was trying really hard to be professional. i'm your mentor.”

“not anymore,” you're quick to point out and you notice the way his eyes drag down the line of your neck to to the swell of your breasts all the way down to the curve of your waist. his eyes catch the gold jewelry that dangles from your navel before he's snapping his eyes back up to yours. “not anymore,” he repeats with a nod. you feel the way the palm of his hand grazes your thigh as he floats closer to you.

you're sure the pounding in your chest can be heard by your friends on the other side of the lake. you try to appear as composed as possible. “so, what else have you been keeping to yourself?” jay's lips shift into a smirk, head tilting to the side slightly. of course you want to know what he's been thinking about you since he was first meeting you. and he's kept his cards so close to his chest up until now, it was only fair. “you want the whole list?”

your head tilts so your able to look at his face fully, eyes wide. “there's a list?”

“a long one,” he's nodding quickly. “like how cute i think you look biting your lip when you play the piano. the way i admired how easily you were able to bond with the kids in our class...” he's actually searching his mind for more things to tell you and you find that unbelievably adorable.

but still, something about all of this just doesn't sit right by you. “why'd you wait so long to say something?” he's letting out a soft sigh, stepping back slightly as his hand rubs at the back of his neck. “i'm leaving in the morning, yn. and i'm not coming back. i mean, i liked you from the start but it didn't seem smart to start something with you i knew i wasn't going to be around to finish.” it made sense. he wasn't coming back, this was his last summer before he went to start his life in new york or california or wherever life took him. this was his past now.

“and i knew you had a crush on me too, it just didn't seem fair.” he's explaining with a sigh and you're nodding, because he's right. you hated to admit it, but he was right. now you knew, though. and you still had the rest of the night. there was no sense in moping around about the fact that this would be the last time you'd see each other when you could be reveling in the time you still had.

you're shifting in the water so you're upright again. “you know, i really thought i was embarrassing myself all summer. turns out you were crushing on me just as bad,” you tease, sticking your tongue out at him that has him smiling. “no, you were.” he's clarifying and you reach over to slap at his chest. “i was not! you kept a mental inventory of my dress collection,” you're pointing out.

“yeah, but i was subtle. you knocked over an entire box of guitar pics when i touched your hand,” the memory makes him smile, you were wearing a green halter dress than, hair pulled into a sleek bun. and you smelt like caramel. “okay, but-” you try to defend yourself, but he's interrupting you. “and let's not forget the time you spilled juice in your lap when i sat by you,” white dress with red and pink flowers all over it. it was ruined. rip.

you embarrassed yourself in front of him more times than you could count and there was denying that, so you don't try to. “you know what,” you're grumbling, hands pushing the water hard enough to send a large splash toward him. it hits him directly in the face, soaking his hair all over again. and you don't miss the dangerous smile on his lips as he reaches up to wipe the water from your eyes, you're already swimming away before he's opening them.

“oh, you're done.” you hear from behind you and you make the mistake of looking back, catching the way he dips under the water. he's scarily fast. you're letting out a squeal as you rush away from him. he's laughing at how easily he's able to close the distance between the two of you. and you hate this version of him. no, actually that was a lie – you hate how much you like this version of him.

this is the jay everyone else around you apparently knew about it. the one that wasn't watching every word or always stepping back. he was no longer trying so hard to keep up with this stiff image of himself, he was just being. and you hate that it took until the very last day for you to finally experience him this way. you're laughing so hard you can barely defend yourself, screaming when jay is finally catching you. “jay!” you shout as he's easily lifting you over his shoulder and tossing you behind his back into the water.

you're resurfacing quickly, jumping onto his back without a bit of hesitation. jay stumbles forward, laughing as you wrap your around his shoulders trying with all your might to get him under the water. “i'm going to fucking drown you,” the threat comes between laughs, ruined by the fact that you're barely even able to move him. “you?” he says amused, a large hand lifting to wrap around the arm you've got around his neck. “are we sure about that?” the confidence in his voice should've been your warning, but you barely have time to question it before he's shaking you off and right back into the lake.

you're bobbing to the surface with a gasp, shoving wet hair from your face as your eyes find jay standing across from you. he's bent over laughing so hard he's basically wheezing, eyes shut as he clutches his stomach and you're taking the chance. you're jumping on him before he can react, sending both of your bodies under the water. you're quick with swimming to the surface, coughing and laughing as jay wipes water from his eyes. “get over here,” his laugh follows his words, and you're instantly swimming away.

you hear the water shifting behind you. way too fast. and you're swimming straight for the rocks, planning on getting out of the water entirely and getting away from him on foot, but you're barely able to touch them when you feel his arm wrap around your waist. he's pulling you toward him swiftly, your spine colliding with his solid chest – hands braced on the rocks in front of you. you were literally trapped between a rock and a hard place. “i warned you,” his voice is right beside your ear and you're suddenly becoming painfully aware of how close you were.

you can feel the way his breathing has changed against your back, hands dropped down to your hips as he holds your body against his. his grip tightens for half a second as another wave rolls between you. you feel him shift behind you, pulling you close and you're gasping when you realize what he's doing. your ass is pressed right against his crotch, his stiffness pressing against your ass. his head tilts slightly, a hand lifting to push your hair off of one shoulder. “done running from me?” he mumbles but you can't even form a proper sentence right now.

you're nodding, breathless, pulse is racing and slowly you're turning around in his arms, hands landing on his shoulders. he looks like he's ready to devour you. hair dripping into his eyes, cheeks flushed and eyes slowly drinking you in. and for once, he's not looking away when your eyes meet. instead, he's moving in closer. your bodies shift until your back is pressed against the rolls and there is no where else for you go besides into him.

his hand lifts from your body, finger latching onto the front strap of your bikini – right between your breasts. he grins at the sound of your breath hitching, the soft gasp you let out when he's tugging you toward him. the water ripples, your chest hits his and he's backing you back against the rock before his leaning down. you can almost hear his resolve snap before his mouth finds yours and you're immediately melting into it.

overhead, jungwon is launching himself off of the cliff after successfully convincing his group to climb back up. his body rotates easily through the air, the best backflip that he's all summer and he can hear the cheer of his friends as they look up at him. and then he's catching movement, seconds before he's about to hit the water. it's you and jay, further from the rest of the group still. standing a bit too close.

he's eyes are widening when jay is lifting his hand, finger hooking into your bikini top and tugging before he's tugging you toward him. “no way,” the words leave his lips just as he's hitting the water, the splash that follows is huge but he can't even reveal in that as he fights to the surface. he swims to the edge of the lake, pulling himself out of the water as he shoves his wet hair from his face. eyes finding the two of you again, still very much kissing. and when he reaches the top of the cliff again, you're in the same spot.

martin is still standing near the edge of the cliff, sakai trying to convince him to belly flop. lex spots jungwon first, brow furrowing. “you said last jump, why you back?” he nearly slips as he rushes toward the edge of the cliff, pointing aggressively down at the water. “look.” martin follows the direction of his finger, sakai tilting her head to the side as she squints and lex crouches down slightly.

“oh my god.”

jay's groaning against your mouth and the sound shoots straight through you. his mouth moves over your swiftly, tongue pushing it's way past your lips. your brain is reeling, completely drowning in the taste of him. everything in the background just ceased to exist, you were no longer worried about tomorrow, or next summer or even your friends that were right behind you. all you could think, breathe, feel was jay.

your mouth tastes like the blueberry wine coolers you've been drinking, you smell like caramel the way you always do, and the way you feel against him is enough to drive just about anyone insane. your arms are around his neck, chest pressed to his and head tilted as your tongue is rolling into his mouth. he doesn't miss the soft whine you're letting out, the sound muffled by his mouth but his dick responds anyway. pressing firmly against you, you're shifting closer.

jaehyun sits on the dock, hands spread out beside him with viv perched between his legs. she's droning on about her new campus and her new roommate that she was so excited to meet. he's half listening, but his attention seems to drift across the water. a habit he's picked up throughout the summer, sort of like canvasing. checking where everyone had ended up, what you're all doing.

brin is floating in the water by heeseung, talking about their first summer here... six years ago. she had these atrocious bangs and braces, he still hadn't even grown into his nose. it was crazy how to two of them grew up. mia and sunoo sit at the edge of the water, legs kicking in front of them as sunoo gushes about finally being reunited with his boyfriend back home.

jungwon, martin, lex and sakai are still on that damn cliff, but instead of doing flips like they had been all night, they're crouched down staring below them. jaehyun follows their gaze and he's nearly falls over when he's seeing what they see. “oh, no way.”

“baby, i'm telling you a story.” viv says from between his legs, turning to look at her man who was clearly no longer paying attention. his hand reaches for her jaw, turning her head in the direction of you and jay. she's gasping, moving quickly like the queen of gossip he knew she was. she's waving her arms dramatically trying to catch mia's attention and it takes less than a few seconds before she's looking over.

'what?' she mouths and viv is pointing in your direction. her eyes land on the two of you instantly and she's grabbing sunoo's arm, pointing across the lake. sunoo is letting out a loud gasp, leaning forward like he's about to charge right over to you. mia is holding him back just in case. “heeseung,” jaehyun is whisper-shouting, catching the older boy's attention pretty quickly.

'look at jay.' he mouths and heeseung's brows are furrowing before both him and brin are turning around. the grin that spreads on his face can only be described as proud. finally. after three months of pining, finally. he has to hold back from applauding his friend.

jay moves like he's been starving for this. hands dropping to your thighs and squeezing roughly until you're taking the initiative and climbing onto him, legs wrapping easily around his waist. he's sucking your lip into his mouth, teeth grazing it as he presses his hips forward, effectively pinning you against the rocks. your hands have made their way into his damp hair, tangled in the strands.

neither of you have any idea that all of your friends bought front row tickets to your first kiss and it's evident in the way jay is shifting his hips forward, half hard cock pressing against him and you're pressing down just as hard. he's humming out a moan and you feel it throughout your body, heat pooling between your legs. his fingers spread against your skin, slowly sliding up your thighs.

you're pulling back just enough to catch your breath, a soft laugh falling from your lips at the dazed look in his eyes. cheeks flushed pink beneath the moonlight, lips swollen from the kiss, chest rising and falling unevenly. droplets of water fall from the hair that covers his forehead. he doesn't say anything, just stands there taking you in. the sight alone has another giggle falling from you lips and that has his gaze dropping to your lips. he's leaning in again before he can think twice about it.

“let her breathe, let her breathe!” sunoo's voice echoes across the lake and you feel jay's body go rigid against you. his eyes squeeze shut as if he's suddenly remembering where he is and the fact that it wasn't just the two of you out there. “that's it! get your man!” mia is whooping, lifting her drink the air as she cheers for you. your shoulders shake, a horrified laugh escaping you as your forehead falls onto jay's shoulder. the sound is quickly swallowed by the shouts that come from your friends.

jay is letting out a low breath through his nose. his head lifting toward the sky for a second with a shake of his head. and when he's looking back down at you, this is the first time you've ever seen him have his composure rocked. usually so calm and careful, but here he looked almost boyish? obviously blushing as the teasing from your friends filled the air. his hands stayed resting on your thighs the entire time, holding your body close to his as jungwon shouts about having seeing it happen first.

“this is so beautiful!” sakai shouts from the top of the cliff, leaning on martin as tears well in her eyes. clearly more emotional about leaving camp than she let on. martin wraps an arm around her waist before leaning forward where jay is able to see him. “look what y'all did! you made kai-baby cry.” he points down at the girl in his arms who also cried after seeing all the beds made this morning.

“kiss again!” jaehyun is shouting from the dock, earning a supportive whistle from viv. the group erupts at the suggestion, childishly chanting 'kiss' as jay stands there mortified. and you think it's hilarious, he looks so cute embarrassed, trying to hide the fact that his heart wasn't pounding and despite how badly he wanted to kiss you, he was all of a sudden feeling shy.

“come on, the first one didn't count!” brin is shouting through the chants. “how would that not count!?” jay shoots back, finally turning back to look at your friends. his reaction only fueling their chants and you can practically feel the heat coming off of him now. they're all a perfect orchestra. heeseung leads the chants, hands cupped around his mouth as cheers for another kiss. lex is leaning over the edge of the rock, sending exaggerated kissy faces your way. and brin is holding her hands up, making them kiss as her lips pucker.

and despite how desperate jay looks to escape their attention, you're addicted to peer pressure. a laugh slips past your lips as your hand is reaching down, fingers pressing against his jaw gently – just enough to turn his head back toward you. the shouting gets louder instantly. you're leaning down against instantly, mouth slotted against his and he's letting out an involuntarily groan at the feeling. the cheers that follow are obnoxiously deafening and it has your laughs dying against jay's lips.

the cold of the lake slowly becomes unbearable and one by one, you all begin making your way back toward the shore. the like that had been full of shouting and splashing just minutes ago is now quiet behind you, water still. wet footprints trail through the sand, towels stolen and half finished drinks recovered from where they had been abandoned hours ago.

you're settling in front of the fire with jay who swiftly positions himself behind you. the fire crackles in front of you, casting a warm light across the campgrounds. hair and body still wet, but you're settling further into jay's chest until going to find a towel. he doesn't seem to care much either, arm looping around your waist as he holds you close to him.

neither of you seem particularly interested in talking about what just happened, instead you just smile way too wide each time your eyes meet. you can hear brin from across the grounds, hair wrapped in a towel and a large hoodie covering her frame. she's rubbing at her stomach as she speaks. “i'm starving!” heeseung snorts as he walks past, his wet swim trunks in hand a pair of dry short hanging loose on his hips. he's digging through the coolers, without even looking up.

“we still have a bunch of meat left. should we kill it?” he suggests and brin's body immediately perks up. “say swear,” she says, taking quick steps to where he stands. he's letting out a soft laugh, pulling two unopened packets of pork belly from the ice with one hand, three packets of brisket in the other. “swear,” brin is squealing, reaching up to take the packets in hand. “see? this is why you're my favorite.” she says, leading the way toward the grill.

heeseung is rolling his eyes, but following closely behind. “yesterday you said lex was your favorite,” he points out and brin is nodding happily. her hand extends so she's able to boop the tip of heeseung's nose, he's scrunching it immediately. “today it's you.”

you spot sunoo walking toward the fire a few seconds later carrying four drinks, two in each hand. “good news,” he announces in a sing-song tone, lifting the bottles toward his face. “i found a full box,” viv and jaehyun trail behind him, stealing one of the bottles before settling on one of the lawn chairs. sunoo hands you a bottle, before passing the next one to jay and plopping down by the fire. “this is starting to feel final,” you say with a pout and you feel the way jay stiffens behind you.

“we live close! we should plan something, yn.” viv reaches her hands out to you and you're agreeing instantly. you two were only a forty-five minute drive apart, it wouldn't be hard to make plans together before next summer, it was just harder when you weren't just a few doors away. rather than across the country.

lex, mia and jungwon take responsibility for the mess they spent most of the night helping create. jungwon is already collecting empty bottles to recycle, lex is carrying a trash bag that's somehow bigger than she is, while mia complains but about everyone being pigs while she cleans up the leftover food. she's mainly yelling at martin who's pretending he can't hear her from where he still sits at the lake with sakai beside him.

they're sat near the edge of the water in the sand, sakai is wrapped in a large blanket and martin has his head resting on her shoulder, fighting the sleep that's creeping up on him. sunoo is rummaging through his bag for something, his bottle pressed between his knees as he looks. “oh wait!” he's exclaiming loud enough that it catches the attention of the people sitting closest to him.

“what?” jungwon is asking, head peeking up from the trash bag he had been separating.

sunoo is pulling a small stack of envelopes from his bag, holding them up with a wide grin. “we forgot these!” he's standing before anybody call say anything else, shuffling through the envelopes and making his way around the camp to hand them out. they're goodbye letters. you know, because you written eleven of your own. everyone had to, it was camp tradition according to brin.

but as sunoo makes his way through the group, the energy changes, you can feel it. the distribution was like a blaring indicator that it was over. eventually, you'd all have to go to sleep and face tomorrow. the fire was going to die down, heeseung was going to run out of food to make, at some point you'll run out of memories to share, stories to tell. it had to end. and you all had to say goodbye.

“i'm going to miss how you always steal my hoodies, even though you have a man.” sunoo says dramatically to viv while handing her the letter he wrote, he's shooting jaehyun a pointed look at the mention of him and then shuffling to find the letter for him. viv is taking hers with a laugh, tucking it safely beneath her leg. “and i'm going to miss pretending not to notice when you and viv disappear,” jaehyun takes his letter with a roll of his eyes, drink still pressed to his lips.

“you never pretended.” he points out and sunoo is nodding with a laugh. “because you guys are gross,” he sings before turning to continue his rounds.

by the time sunoo is dropping back down beside the fire, you've noticed a handful of your friends disappearing into their cabins and coming back with their own letters. but none of you talk about it, none of you make an announcement to pass them out, it sort of just happens.

the grill sizzles, brin stealing a piece of meat before it's finished cooking and heeseung is meeting her with an individual plate with the letter he wrote her tucked underneath it. she doesn't make a big deal out of it, takes the plate and the letter before plopping down at the picnic table to eat. jungwon complains about people not separating recyclables correctly, pulling glass bottles from the trash bag that should only be filled with food. martin is standing above him, note extended in front of his face.

“if that's another bottle, martin, i'm going to drown you in the lake. and then myself,” jungwon grumbles as he looks up, eyes finding the crisp envelope inches from his nose. he takes it quickly, tucking it into his pocket then goes right back to complaining. martin walks up, making his way back to where he had been sitting with sakai before, only now she's standing.

the blanket he had lent to her folded neatly a sad look on her face as she hands it over, the note she wrote for him resting on top. “i'm going to miss you so much,” she says through a sob and martin is chuckling softly, plucking the note from the top before grabbing the blanket. unlike everyone else, he's tearing into his note immediately despite sakai's protests. his eyes move quickly across the paper before they're slowing, taking in every written word and the meaning behind them.

sakai notices the shift, she recognizes it. “martin?” her head tilts up to get a better look at his face but he's quickly looking away, folding the note and tucking it back into it's envelope. “i'm fine,” he rushes out, wiping at his eyes with his knuckle. “let's go help clean up,”

a note seems to fall from the sky as jungwon passes, hitting your knee and landing on jay's lap. “read it away from me,” he mumbles before disappearing with his trash bag. jay is picking it up with a small smile. leave it to jungwon to literally run from any type of emotional exchange. “let me go put this away,” jay says, nudging at you leg gently and you're standing to allow him to slip from behind you and disappear into his cabin. you take the chance to slip away as well, grabbing the stack of letters you had spent the past week writing from underneath your pillow.

jay catches heeseung on his way to the bathroom, “hyung, wait.” heeseung's turning to the sound of jay's voice, eyes instantly landing on the thick envelope in his hand. “what is that like ten pages?” he asks with a laugh, reaching his hand out to take it. “it's only like seven,” he defends and heeseung is shaking his hand, tearing into the letter before jay can say anything of it.

“you know i have to read it out loud,” he says through a chuckle. jay is rolling his eyes, both hands pushing his hair back on his head as he feels his cheeks darkening. “you're so embarrassing,” he says with a shake of his head, but he doesn't fight it. heeseung would just find him and read it out loud later, he did it every summer for the past six years.

he's straightening his back and clearing his throat before bringing the note up to eye level, reading it like it's a scroll. “hyung. i tried keeping this short...” he lowers the letter to shoot a deadpan expression toward the younger boy. “seven pages?” he teases and jay is waving him off with a roll of his eyes. “just hurry up and read it,” much to his surprise, heeseung continues reading. “thank you for spending the past years putting up with me. though, i've been here longer than you... i never truly had someone to look up to until you arrived. we're the oldest, so everyone looks up to us. but i'm thankful i have you to look up to too.” jay doesn't miss the way the playfulness leaves heeseung's tone. realization that this was the last letter finally hitting him.

“i don't know if anybody else realizes how much this place has your fingerprints on it. you came up with most of the things we know call tradition, you've helped me write more songs than i can count. i even heard martin repeat one of your inside jokes his first week here... half the things the campers think have always existed started because of you, you're the blueprint.” heeseung pauses to grin because he had been screaming that for the past four years and finally he was getting the recognition for it.

the letter continues on like that, highlighting the memories they made together in the past six years, how close they've become. jay's plans for the future and how he promises to keep in touch, though, no one ever really did. but heeseung can tell that he meant it. the only difference is, heeseung was leaving too. not for the summer, forever. they both were on different paths of their lives now and seeing each other every summer was going to be a thing of the past.

he doesn't ruin the moment by pointing that out, though.

“you've been apart of almost every version of my adult life and it's going to be so hard imagining moving into my next phase without you standing ten feet away making an unnecessary comment. i don't really know how to end this, because i feel there shouldn't be an end to us. to our friendship. so i'll just say, thank you for being my friend and i'll see you soon.” heeseung looks up at jay to find him trying to look anywhere else, he's shaking his head laughing softly while flipping the pages over in his hands.

there's a few sentences scribbled on the back of the last one. “oh! there's more,” sarcasm drips from his words and jay's letting out a laugh. “i had a lot to say, shut up.” heeseung continues reading. “ps. stop giving relationship advice. even if you're right 99% of the time, stop it. your 'i told you so' face is so annoying. but, you were right again... i regret not telling yn how i feel. and i regret not kissing her when i had the chance,”

heeseung is looking up with a knowing smirk on his face, brow arched and jay is shoving at his shoulder. “that face! you're so irritating,” he says through a laugh while heeseung is carefully folding the note back up. “you kissed her, though. what changed your mind?” judging from the end of his note, it's clear that jay had no intention to actually make a move with you. but he saw the way jay kissed you in the water and how he's been all over you all night. this jay was very different from letter jay.

jay is clapping his hand on heeseung's shoulder with a shake of his head, “those fucking dresses, man.”

the night officially starts to settle around you. letters distributed and tucked away safely. the fire that had been roaring all evening has started to die down, only crackling whenever a piece of wood breaks. the loud shouts of your friends have dwindled into soft murmurs heard throughout the grounds. each one of you losing the battle against sleep, it was impossible to keep fighting it.

the food is gone, the coolers are empty. jungwon has organized every single piece of trash he could get his hands on. there was nothing left to do, there was nothing left to say. sakai and sunoo disappear first, walking into the bathroom with arms linked to do their skincare routine together for the last time of the summer. brin is a few steps behind them, yawning loudly and rubbing at her eye with the heel of her palm.

viv is curled up in jaehyun's lap, his hoodie working as a blanket as her head rests beneath his chin. every few minutes, she'll mumble something into his chest and he'll reach down to smooth a hand over her hair. jaehyun is still wide awake, talking quietly with jay from across the fire. you still sit comfortably in jay's lap but you're zoned out staring at the burning embers of the fire.

jungwon, martin and heeseung have migrated into their cabin, changed into their pajamas and laying on their beds. they talk softly, finding random things to say as they fight off the inevitable sleep. their voices drift through the open window every so often before dissolving back into sleepy laughter. across the lake, lex and mia have claimed the hammock and have been laying there with the past twenty minutes. neither of them have managed to finish a complete sentence, settling for quiet sighs and toying with each other's fingers.

jay feels you shiver against him for the fourth time and it has him realizing rubbing his hands over your arms was useless in warming you up. “you cold?” he asks, head tilting to the side so he can look at you. you're tired but you're fighting it, long curls pulled in a bun at the top of your head and pretty orange dress doing nothing against the cool night air. you're turning to look at him, head bobbing in a nod.

“i have a sweater in the car, should we...” he says it because he wants to spend more time together, that part is obvious. he could've very much you suggest you go to bed, put on warm sweats of your own and call it a night. but in reality, he wasn't ready for his night with you to end and neither were you, which is why you're standing to follow him.

the walk to his jeep isn't long, he parked close to the entrance out of his need for efficiency. he was set to leave early tomorrow morning, had spent the better half of the day loading up his car. it only made sense that it would be parked a few feet away. his arm settles over your shoulders as you walk, a comfortable silence falling over you and you're finally finding the courage to ask him what you've been wondering for the past hour and a half.

“did you forget to write me a letter?” you try to keep your tone playful, masking the echoing doubts in your mind. everyone had a letter, each passed out one by one and you watched jay hand out a letter to each one of your friends. yet, the one that he should've written for you never came. you don't miss the smile that breaks onto his features, a soft laugh falling from his lips as he shakes his head. “no, god no. i just couldn't stop rewriting it,” that peaks your interest. because, yes there must've been unspoken feelings when he sat down to write it, but actually rewriting it felt different.

it took you a good three hours to decide what you were going to say to him. everything you decided just felt too elementary, but even still you only wrote one draft. and that was the one tucked away somewhere in his cabin. “you did? how many did you write?” you're reaching his car just as the question leaves the lips and he shrugs, pulling the car door open before leaning in.

“nine.” he says it so casually, half his body in his car, your eyes are widening anyway. “nine!? you wrote me nine letters!? jay...” he's standing with a black sweater clutched in his hands. it's one you recognize right away, he's worn it enough for you to. just a simple black hoodie with 'miami' written in bold red letters, the word cut off by the deep-v cut into the neckline. he's easily pulling it over your head, guiding your arms into it.

it's such a simple gesture but it's so jay that your heart flutters. hand reaching down to find the side of his neck as he straightens the hem of his sweater against your thighs. you're gently pulling him toward you, to plant a soft kiss to his lips which he returns instantly, arm wrapping around your waist to pull you into him. “nine letters?” you're saying again as he pulls away and his face breaks into a soft smile.

“relax, you're only getting one.” he's reaching back into his car, rummaging through a bag before pulling out the folded piece of paper. number nine. the final draft of his goodbye letter to you, but it felt outdated now for some reason. still, he's handing it over to you with a sad smile. “read it later,” he feels the need to clarify, traumatized by heeseung's traditional presentation.

you're tucking the letter safely into the pocket of his hoodie and silence falls between the two of you. it's a charged silence that holds the words that neither of you are willing to say. instead his eyes stay trained on you as your eyes drift into the back of his jeep. slowly, you're stepping forward to get a better look. and the sight makes your chest tighten. boxes stacked neatly on top of one another, duffel bags shoved into every available corner of his trunk. his guitar. his backup guitar. binders upon binders of sheet music. seven years packed into the back of a car. your breath catches in your throat as you're eyes shift to look back at him, body leaning against the frame of the open car door.

“so... this is really it, huh?” jay follows your gaze, a soft sigh falling from his lips as he nods. “yeah, i guess so,” you feel the way your heart drops, which is stupid, because you had known he was leaving. for the past three months it's all he could talk about. grad school, apartment hunting, moving dates. the weather in his new city, he was never not talking about leaving. but somehow seeing it packed into the back of the car hit differently. it felt real. “it's like you fit your whole cabin into your car, looks weird...”

jay lets out a quiet laugh through his nose, hand lifting to rest just above your head against the car. “tell me about it. my cabin looks weirder, all empty.” your eyes drift back to the boxes, trying hard not to picture how his cabin would look empty. you poked your head in too many times to see if he was around to now think of the reality of him never being around again.

“you did this all day?” you say it just to make conversation, because you have nothing else to say that didn't feel totally depressing. and jay seems to catch on, because he is playing along. he nods simply, lips pulling into his mouth as his eyes drift back to you. “yeah, some of it yesterday.”

“you cried, huh?” you tease and that manages to pull another pretty laugh for him, “i absolutely did not,” he defends halfheartedly, but you're not buying it. “oh, now i know you cried. you're such a liar,” your eyes narrow up at him and that has him laughing even harder and for a second it almost feels normal again. but then your eyes are drifting back, catching sight of his guitar case again.

you're changing the subject quickly. “you know...” your voice trails off, forcing a smile on your lips. “i thought you hated me for like the first two weeks.” jay's head snaps toward you so fast it makes you laugh, his brows raised high toward his hairline. “are you serious?” he says through a laugh, your hand slaps against his chest. “yes! did you forget about how you'd avoid me? and ignore me, even if i was talking directly to you.”

he's laughing, eventually nodding along. because it was true. the first few weeks he couldn't even be around you without his brain short-circuiting and when he'd try to say something, anything – he found himself getting tongue tied more often than not. but still, “you were impossible to ignore. but, yes. i did try.” he had it in his head if he just didn't talk to you, then his feelings wouldn't grow. he was so wrong.

“you'd walk into a room and all of a sudden everyone's attention would be on you. including mine.” his eyes drop to his hoodie and how it swallows your frame, covering up one of your many pretty dresses. then slowly back up to your face, you're staring up at him with the same heart eyed expression you've been giving him all summer. “you flirted with me constantly too, even when i tried not to look your way,” you're laughing, arms reaching up to wrap around his neck.

“i had a feeling it would end up being effective,” you grin and he's smiling, hand lifting to rest on the small of your back. “trust me, it was. it was all i could talk about with heeseung,” but never to you. he never gave away to the slightest bit of interest and that drove you insane every single day. it almost bothered you more that he waited until the last day to finally say something. he could've just left you clueless, able to move on and say that you tried. because you did try, so hard.

and for some reason him waiting until there was no time left to meet you halfway just didn't feel fair. the pout is forming on your lips before you can fight it, hand resting on his cheek. “i wouldn't change a second of this summer, truly. i loved meeting everyone and spending my days with you.” it's hard to ignore the sadness in your eyes, the obvious way you're fighting back tears as you speak. “but, fuck, jay... i wish we had more time,”

he knows exactly what you mean without you having to say it. you spent all summer wanting him, loudly. but every time he caught himself wanting you back, he'd find a reason to keep his distance. to walk away, to play it safe. he'd find a reason not too look too long, not too linger in conversations with you. especially if they were about your shared love for music.

he was so strategic in the way he interacted with you, careful not to let himself enjoy the way your fit lit up whenever you spotted him hanging out in his cabin. he had spent months convincing himself that this was the right way, that he was doing the right thing. the smart thing. that all of this would be easier if he kept his distance, and maybe that would've been true if tonight never happened.

because standing here now, knowing exactly what it feels like to kiss you, makes what should've been an easy goodbye feel impossible. “well,” he's saying with a soft smile, arm lifting so his wrist is in view. and you follow his gaze to the watch on his wrist. “it's only... 2:49AM. there's still five hours and eleven minutes until it's over.” he says with a proud smile, probably at his mental math and that has you laughing softly. “what should we do with that time?” his finger taps at his chin and you're tilting your head to the side.

without missing a beat, you're leaning up to press your lips against his. he's kissing back instantly. his hands fall down to grasp your hips, easily pulling your body against his. your worries about tomorrow seem to melt away as soon as his lips are on yours, your fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck as you hold him to you. jay kisses you with a rushed, starved almost desperate need and it makes it difficult for you to focus on anything but him.

his tongue is pushing past your lips easily, brushing against yours before he's changing his mind and catching your lower lip between his teeth instead. you're gasping, the sound pulling a soft chuckle from his mouth. it dies on your tongue. “you're so perfect,” he sighs, hand resting against the side of your face as he leans back enough to look at you. he's easily tilting your head to the side with his hand, revealing more of your neck to him.

his head is dropping to the side, soft lips finding your skin. salty from the lake but he sucks kisses against the length of it. “jay,” you're gasping, hand reaching out to clutch the fabric of his t-shirt, pulling him close. and his arm tightens around your waist, holding you tight against him as his lips roam your skin. he's focusing his lips just above your collarbone, sucking the skin into his mouth and it has your head lulling back. his body shifts, hands tracing the curves of your body before he's carefully lifting you into the backseat.

it's cramped between all his bags and boxes, and the idea of his new life. but he's climbing in behind you, letting the door slam behind him. closing the two of you in to your own private space and you're on him instantly. his back hits the door from the force of your lips, a soft laugh falling from both of your lips. you kiss him desperately, every push of your lips screaming finally and all he can do is try to keep up. he groans as your hands sneak underneath the fabric of his shirt, nails dragging over his stomach.

your tongue pushes and twists against his, his hands shoving his hoodie and your dress out of the way. his fingers spread over the skin of your ass, squeezing gently and the moan you let out has his dick jumping. jay is easily pulling you further onto him with the grip he has on your ass. it's so uncomfortable, you've got your legs on either side of his waist, he's hanging half way off of the seat, back pressed against the door. all of the crap from his cabin surround your bodies, making it that much more difficult to move. yet, he wouldn't want to be anywhere else.

not when you were hovering over him like this, panting into his mouth while pushing your ass back into the palms of his hands. “oh, fuck.” he's sighing when your lips trail down the length of his jaw, you follow the same pattern as he had before. sucking kisses into is skin, before grazing your teeth over it. focusing on a particular sensitive bit while your hips grind down onto his. a low, untamed growl catches in his throat as he feels the way your body moves against his.

the thin material of your bikini bottoms doing very little to mask the wet heat dripping from between your legs and onto his shorts. his head dips down to find your lips, mouth covering yours quickly and he wastes no time with licking into your mouth. jay's easily pulling you into a deep, needy, almost frantic rhythm that has your head spinning. you're moaning, hips pressing roughly against his. the length of his cock presses delicious against your clothed clit and your hips roll toward his, body shuddering as pleasure spreads throughout your core.

“oh my god,” you're whining into his mouth, hips moving frantically against his. he does his best to lift his hips to meet yours, fingers digging in to the flesh of your ass as heat rises up his neck. “you feel so... holy shit,” he's grunting, head falling back to rest against the door as you basically bounce on his lap. through hooded eyes, he watches the way your body moves against his. the needy roll of your hips paired with the look on your face just makes him harder.

you've got your lip tucked between your teeth, head dipped back as your hands travel up your torso. they find your breasts almost instantly and he watches as you squeeze and toy with them through fabric. he finds it hot how you refused to take off his sweater despite how much you probably want to. your hips move swiftly, pretty moans filling the cramped car as his hard length drags between your folds.

his hips lift to meet each one of your movements, using the grip on your body to press you down harder against him. every last bit of restraint has snap, he's no longer able to hold himself back. chest rising and falling in untimed breaths as a flush creeps onto his cheeks. he tries and fails to hold his whimpers back, but the way you're moving just feels too good. or he's just too sensitive, either way the pressure builds at the pit of his stomach and it's impossible to ignore.

and to make matters worse, jay can tell you're close too just from the unfocused timing of your hips and the helpless whines you're letting out. “jay,” you're gasping, fist clutching the fabric of his shirt as he watches the way your eyes roll back, your thighs squeezing together the best you can with his body between them. and he's quickly deciding he'd rather feel you cum, rather than see it.

“wait, baby... wait.” jay is shifting up, hands moving down to your thighs, stilling your movements. and he finds the pout that takes over your features especially cute, he's pressing a soft kiss to it without thinking. “i want to feel you,” he says simply. he's carefully leaning you back, your body resting against the boxes behind you as he moves to hover above you now.

his fingers sneak underneath the hem of your dress, latching onto the strings of your bottoms as his eyes drag up to look at you. you're shooting a nervous smile in his direction that has his heart softening. “is this okay?” he's asking softly, slowly tugging at the strings. you're nodding quickly, “please, jay.” you're breathing out, hips lifting off of the car seat to make it easier for him.

jay's letting out a soft chuckle before dragging your bottoms down your legs, tossing them somewhere behind him. his eyes drop down to catch the way your folds glisten, large hands pushing the hoodie and your dress up toward your belly button. “fuck,” he sighs with a shake of his head and you feel the heat rising in your cheeks, feeling unbelievably vulnerable under his lustful gaze. he's leaning forward, nose dragging along the length of your neck before his tongue pushes out to drag against your skin.

his hand slides expertly between your legs as his mouth moves to suck a hickey into your skin. your legs spread almost instinctively, moaning as his fingers trace between your folds. “you're so fucking wet,” he's groaning, fingers pushing slowly past your entrance. the warmth of your pussy surrounds his fingers as he slides in all the way to the knuckle. your hips lift to meet his hand and he's grinning down at you. “does it feel good? having my fingers stretch you out?” he asks softly as he curls his fingers inside you.

your walls clamp down around them, head bobbing in a nod. “yes... f-fuck, jay. it feels so good,” you're admitting. jay's fingers thrust deep inside of you, thumb pressing against your clit before he's rubbing slow cirlces against it. it's not long before he's falling into a steady rhythm, free hand lifting to hold your hips still as his fingers fuck into you. you're whining softly, legs spreading wide for him. “jay...” you're pleading, yet you have no idea what you're asking for.

his eyes lift to find yours, head tilting to the side slightly. “what, baby?” he grins, speeding up the movement of his hand and easily pulling a loud gasp from your lips. the sound of his chuckle follows, his eyes dropping back to your pussy. you're basically dripping around his fingers walls pulsing with each thrust. “i need... more, jay please.” your words break on a desperate cry, his fingers scissoring inside of you as his thumb presses harder against your clit.

“whatever you want,” he says, but the truth was he couldn't wait much longer either. not with this insistent throb between his legs, and the way you were looking up at him, so needy and ready. he had waited long enough for a moment like this with you, he was done waiting. jay pulls his hand away slowly, hands flying to push his shorts out of the way. his wet hand wrapping around his thick length and you watch as he strokes himself slowly, coating his shaft with your arousal.

the sight makes your mouth water. he stays knelt there for a few moments, just rubbing his hand over himself and watching you and the intensity in his stare makes your body hot. “spread your legs for me,” he's saying after a minute and you're separating your knees without a word, pussy clenching at the groan he lets out. “jay. fuck me, please.” you're whining, hand dropping down the length of your body to spread your folds for him, showing him just how badly you needed him.

he's leaning forward quickly, mouth covering yours in a needy kiss as the bulbous head of his cock bumps against your fingers. he takes his time with lining himself up with your tight hole, pushing his hips forward slowly until he's feeling you stretch around him. you have to remind yourself to relax as he pushes forward, breathing through the pain that comes with each inch of him. your fingers clutch his hair the moment that he's bottoming out and he feels the way your body stiffens.

“relax, baby. take your time.” he soothes, hand stroking your hair gently as he watches you adjust. he leans down to press soft kisses against your skin. switching between sucking hickeys into your neck and twisting his tongue with yours. he waits patiently for you to loosen up for him, but the moment he feels you shifting, he's taking that as his go and thrusting his hips forward. “fuck!” you shout, back arching as much as it can and he's pinning you back down with his hips.

slowly, he's pulling his hips back, allowing you to feel every rigid inch of his cock. “you're squeezing me so tight,” he says before he's quickly slamming back in. your body jerks, hips lift, whines falling from your lips as he falls into a steady pace. your hands are on his shoulders, nails dragging against his skin. jay fucks into you slowly and incredibly deep. his grip is tight on your waist, dragging your body down onto him with each thrust. his face remains buried in your neck, mouthing at your skin as his cock splits you open.

you feel him so deeply, he's no longer holding back and the desperate movement of his hips has an electric need shooting through your body. you needed to be closer. needed to feel him deeper. needed his hands on you like this forever. his teeth bite into your skin, muffling the long groan threatens to slip out and you're matching it with a needy whimper. his thrusts become brutal, hips snapping against yours in a overwhelmingly rough pace. your nails drag over the muscles of his back, legs spreading wider for him as desperate cries fill the car.

“jay, oh my god. i'm gonna...” you don't know if you should push him away or pull him closer, heat spreading throughout your body as the knot at the pit of your stomach tightens. jay keeps up with the pace as best he can, hand dropping down to find your clit again and he rubs figure eights into the sensitive bud. his head lifts so he can watch the way your face contorts in pleasure.

your orgasm tears through your body, eyes rolling all the way to the back of your head as your back arches off of the seat. it's unlike anything you've felt before, body going numb as his hips continue to move between your thighs – fucking you through it. “god, look at you.” he sighs, burying himself deep inside of you, balls slapping against your ass with each thrusts. he moves until you're coming down for your high, watching the way your body relaxes in his arms. and only then is he pulling back, slowly drawing his hips away from your body and twisting his body so he's sitting upright on the seats.

“fuck,” he breathes, hand wrapping over his cock to keep it from falling limp. “i had the craziest cramp in my leg,” he says through a laugh, eyes shifting to find you. you're half way off of the seat, back resting against a box and hair falling messily around your face. “you okay?” he asks, smiling softly the second you're nodding. his free hand reaches out toward you, beckoning you over with a grin.

you're lifting slowly, allowing his arm to wrap around his waist and for her to tug you onto his lap. “come ride me, i'm almost there,” there's quiet begging in his tone as he lifts your body slightly, enough to pull you into his lap. your heart jumps, body freezing as you stare over at him with wide eyes. “oh, uhm... i've never? i don't think i know how...” you feel the heat rising in your cheeks and jay's brow furrows at your words.

“you've never rode someone before?” he asks because it sounds almost insane. of course you've rode someone before. he takes in the look in your eye, the shy blush that darkens your cheeks. “well, no... that was my first time,” you say sheepishly and his eyes are flying open, his hand falling from his cock to push his hair back on his forehead. “what?” he says it, even though he's positive he heard you clearly.

he just couldn't believe it. didn't even stop and consider it. and now he feels terrible because he just took your virginity like it was nothing. like it was something you could just hand out. it should've been special, he should've made it special. “yn, you can't lose your virginity in the back of my car!?” you're laughing at his distress, the wrinkle between his brow as they furrow in pure worry.

you don't know why you find him so cute this way. your shoulders lift in a shrug, hands settling on his shoulders. “too late?” you're saying through your laughter and he's shooting you a pointed look. “not funny, yn. i should've been gentle,” you're quick to shake your head, hands covering his cheeks as you lean down to press a soft kiss to his lips. he kisses you back slowly, hands resting on your waist much lighter now. you're pulling back slowly, head tilting slightly.

“come on, you already took it. don't clam up now,” you're leaning down to plate a kiss to his lips that has his worries melting away. your tongue wrapping around his, fingers curling in his hair as you lift your hips to climb further up on his lap. his head rests on the back of the chair when you pull away, looking up at you through his lashes as your hand reaches down wrapping around his cock. his hips twitch as you position his head at your entrance, “teach me,” you say with a pout and just like that his restraint is gone.

again.

–

you're not heading back to jay's cabin until the sun is already peaking over the mountains. it's weirdly empty, just like you imagined. his bed made in the middle of the room. he doesn't let you dwell on the look of it for too long, not wanting you to sleep too deep in your thoughts while you're having such a good time. he's pulling you into bed beside him, easily tucking your body into his as the two of you finally drift off to sleep.

and you stay like that in his arms for god knows how long. your head on his chest and his arm wrapped securely around your waist. he doesn't dare move, even when sleep finally takes over. which doesn't last as long as he would have hoped, his alarm blaring at exactly 7:15am. he's careful not to wake you as he slips out of bed, showering and changing his clothes as you shift and pull at his sheets. you don't even budge when he's making his bed, or when he's taking the last bag out of his room and into his car.

there's so much more he wanted to say. and he hated that he had no more time. for a long while, jay just stands there. keys in hand as his eyes scan over his empty cabin, save for you curled beneath his blankets. the morning sun peaks in through his window, golden streaks fanning across the bed. and you don't even shift. you're dead asleep, drooling onto his pillows and the sight has a soft laugh falling from his lips.

“wow,” he's shocked because even like this, smushed face and messy hair – you still look so pretty. he should leave, he needed to get on the road before the gps estimated a different arrival time. there were a list of things that he needed to get done back at his apartment before he was heading to the airport, he needed to leave. instead, he's making his way back into the cabin. setting his keys back on his desk before pulling out the blank notebook from one of the drawers, stealing a page.

he starts writing. the words coming to him much easier now that he's no longer hold back. he's ran out of reasons not to tell you exactly how he feels. he spent the last nine drafts trying to sound reasonable and failed every single time. because, this wasn't reasonable. falling for you was the most unreasonable thing that he has ever done, but he loved every second of it.

jay doesn't stop once as he writes, not a single typo. his feelings hit the page unfiltered, for the first time all summer. he's saying everything that he's wanted to, to you, about you. for you. he doesn't make a single edit. every for sentences, his eyes would drift over to where you lay, curled in his hoodie and drowning in his sheets. and then three more sentences would come to mind, two more after that. he writes until he's filled the entire page and then some more on the back.

once he's finished he's folding it carefully, slipping it into an envelope before scribbling something across the front. he's moving to stand beside the bed one last time, setting the note on his empty pillow before his eyes drift over to you. the urge to wake you up hit him intensely, he wanted so badly to say goodbye properly, to steal one more kiss, one more touch, one more hour. but he knew that was wrong. that he'd end up wanting to stay longer, actually seeing him walk away might hurt you more.

so he doesn't. he just sets his hand on your head softly, brushing your hair back so he's able to press a soft kiss to your forehead. his lips linger there for a moment, silently hoping that you'd wake up on your own. and when you don't, he's standing. he grabs his keys from his desk, takes one final look at you, before he's heading out of the cabin, closing the door tight behind him.

you're stirring awake two hours later. the first thing you notice is that you feel warm, surrounded by jay's familiar scent. you sink further into the mattress, sunlight spilling from the windows and warming your skin and for a few seconds you don't open your eyes. instead, you nuzzle yourself into jay's warmth as moments from the night before flood your memory.

playing with jay in the lake. kissing jay against the rocks. jay holding you by the fire. walking with jay to his car, his arm around your shoulders. jay fucking you in that same car, in so many different ways. you could still feel the stretch of him between your legs. a smile spreads across your lips, remembering exactly how he felt beneath you as you rode him for the first time ever. and you're suddenly filled with the need to try it again. to feel him again.

you're reaching out before your mind can tell you differently, eyes snapping open when your hand is met with nothing but emptiness. your eyes find the clock sat on his nightstand, reading the flashing numbers that stare back at you. 10:17AM. your stomach drops, a deep frown replacing the sleepy smile you had been wearing before. “oh,” you're sighing as realization hits, jay was gone.

you knew he'd be leaving early, he told everyone that he was going to be gone before anyone was really waking up. but despite knowing, not seeing him beside you still stings. slowly you're sitting up in his bed, the over-sized hoodie shifting over your shoulders as you reach to rub at your eyes. everything feels heavy, your heart thumps uselessly in your chest as your eyes scan over the room.

he was really gone. the bathroom had been emptied out this morning, his desk was completely cleared off, posters torn down and folded neatly. there was no trace of him left in this room besides you and the fact that he took everything and left you behind has your throat tightening. your eyes drift back toward his pillow, eyes furrowing at the sight of the crisp envelope that laid on top of his blue pillowcase. you're reaching for it quickly, reading over the words written across the front of the envelope. “make it ten versions,” you read and you don't waste a second before tearing the note open.

❝ yn.

i've written this goodbye letter to you so many times that i almost forgot the point of it. the first few letters sounded like i was giving you a college recommendation... then i got too emotional about leaving the music lodge in your care. the third version was so embarrassingly raw that if you ever somehow read it i'd most likely evaporate where i stand. the one that I gave you, version nine, was the one that felt the most honest to me. at least at that time. now, it just feels like it was written by someone else.

someone that was still pretending he hadn't fell for you. i spent the last three months pretending that i wasn't looking for you in every room. pretending that i was fine with keeping things professional. wasted so much time pretending that i didn't feel the same way that you did and i think i owe you an apology for that. i owe you a lot of apologies, honestly.

i'm sorry that i waited until the last day to make a move. i'm realizing now, seated at my desk and you snoring behind me that, that was the wrong move. i should've said something sooner, i shouldn't have let you wonder if you were the only one with the crush. or at least stuck to my guns, said nothing, and left quietly. because this sucks so much worse. leaving after just one night of getting to know how it feels to be with you feels horrible. but i don't regret it, don't get me wrong. i'm happy that our last night together was every bit of perfect, i just wish i got it together sooner. for the both of us.

and that brings me to my next apology. i'm sorry that you spent all summer being brave enough for the both of us. you were so loud about your feelings, you never hid, you flirted with me in front of everyone despite their teasing. you made your feelings so clear and gave me every opportunity to meet you halfway and i kept coming up with excuses not to.

i convinced myself that keeping my distance would be best for the both of us. there was no point in starting something that i couldn't finish, but i realize now i was too focused on that small detail. because while the future was clear and we both knew this summer would end, we could've still enjoyed each other for three full months rather than one night. that's my fault, i'm sorry i robbed us of that.

for the last seven years, this place has been my home away from home. i know the walls, i know the smells, every last detail is engraved in my brain like a sixth sense. so naturally, i figured no longer having it as a constant would be the hardest thing of all, the thing that i'd miss most. but now i'm realizing (again) that i was wrong, because what i'm going to miss most is you.

i'm going to miss the way your face lights up when you talk about music, the way you manage to make every conversation last twice as long as they should. your laugh, your smile, the taste of your lips. i'm going to miss how warm you felt sleeping against me. and most of all, i'm going to miss all the things that i want to experience with you and now know it's too late.

fuck, i hate that it's too late...

for the first time ever, i have no idea what will happen next. because as you read this, i'm probably already on the road, heading home or toward the airport and even though, i know that has always been the plan, i can't help but wonder if i should be doing something different. or if it's stupid to make such huge life changes over someone you just met. for the first time ever, i don't trust my own plan and that scares the shit out of me.

but i kind of like it, because if there's one thing this summer taught me, one thing that you taught me... it's that all of life's best moments happen when you stop trying to control them. it took me until last night to realize it, that's why i kissed you when i did. none of that was part of the plan, but i'm so happy that i let myself enjoy being with you, even if it was just once.

i know i don't have to tell you this, but don't worry too much about me... enjoy your school year, enjoy your life. go on all the dates, make new friends and be as happy as you can possibly be. i hope that one day the universe will bring us back together, but in the meantime... keep my hoodie safe. it looks better on you, anyway.

jay.❞

the end of class rolls around before either of you know it and you had forgotten all about your denied request. mostly because riki had gone silent after rejecting you, scribbling in that stupid sketchbook and not sparing you a second's glance. not that he's ever had much to say before, but you can't help but notice that he was being quieter than usual. there was no teasing when you were raising your hand to answer every question, no sarcastic remark when you're reminding him of the reading required to finish the lab. not even a smirk when you're handed back last week's individual assignments and he received a perfect score.

he just draws. consistently.

it's the type of focus you're sure he saved only for his drawings, because you've never seen him this concentrated before. it's a world different from the lazy expression he normally wore as he pretended to study or sped through assignments. it was unsettling to witness. especially for an hour straight without any breaks.

the professor dismisses the class and you're pushing your laptop closed, easily shoving it into your purse as you stand. students flood noisily to the door and your eyes flicker to riki who has barely moved in the last hour. “did you even take notes?” his eyes lift to find yours after a second, hand gliding over the paper, adding his signature you're assuming, his eyes stayed on you.

“no,” he says simply, lifting his bag onto his shoulder as he stands from his chair. you're letting out another scoff. it's honestly becoming the only sound you're capable of making around him. “you're going to fail. and the last thing i need is for your lazy ass to drag me down with you,” you warn, shocked by the loud laugh that leaves his lips. “i'm smarter than you, princess. did you forget?” there's an unmistakable teasing to his tone that has you snorting softly, eyes rolling as he lifts his sketchbook from the table.

without a word he's ripping out the page he had been working on so secretly all class, extending his arm to hold it out to you. you're reaching for it wearily, surprised that he didn't snatch it back at the last second. your eyes are focusing on the image and you have to blink a few times in order to take in what you're looking at. even though it was embarrassingly clear what he had drawn. it's you. and it wasn't vague either. it was you. your exact side profile staring back at you on this sheet of paper that the boy you referred to as a brain dead loser handed to you.

“riki, this is...” you start, but the second your eyes are lifting you're being met with the slam of the door. “wait!” you call after him, despite the fact he can no longer hear you. you're scrambling to snatch up all your belongings, careful not to bend the drawing as you follow behind him, catching his tall frame turning the corner just as you're prying the door open. “are you serious...” you grumble, legs moving before you can think to chase after him, but you don't get very far before you're knocking right into someone.

soft hands keep you from hitting the floor, but your purse and all it's contents spill onto the tiles along with riki's picture. “whoa! slow down,” your best friend, isis is saying through a laugh, eyes scanning over the flustered expression on your face. “no need to rush, i'm right here.” she grins, ready to joke before her eyes are taking in your scattered belongings on the floor, gaze landing on the very obvious self portrait that lays among the mess.

“what's this?” she's bending down before you have the chance to react, plucking the picture up between her fingers and inspecting it like there was some secret code hidden within the lines. “it's nothing, i-” you start but she's shooting you a wide eyed expression that has your words catching. “is this you!?” she eyes the drawing carefully before doing the same to you, even going as far as to reach out to turn your head to the side, comparing the side profile of the photo with yours.

“oh my god. this is you. did riki draw this?” it's easy to guess, mainly because you spent so much time complaining about how his grades never suffered yet he spent all of his free time scribbling in his sketchbook. they all thought it was funny, how worked up you'd get when realizing he got a higher score than you without needing to put in any effort. but this photo was no joke, there was seriousness within each pencil stroke that just couldn't be ignored. “hello? riki gave this to you?” isis repeats when too long has passed of you not saying anything.

your shoulders are lifting in a shrug, reaching for the picture but she's just barely holding it out of your reach. you're huffing, bending down to pick up the rest of your stuff off of the floor. “yes, he did.” you say finally with a roll of your eyes, “now give it back before you-” she's cutting you off with a gasp, eyes wide and glued to the drawing. “the other girls need to see this,” she's saying, darting off before you can fully register what's going on. once you do, you're rushing behind her. “isis! oh my god, no.” your bodies weave through the students, turning quick corners and barely avoiding colliding with anyone.

isis is fast, you don't catch up with her until she's already outside rushing toward the table your friends always occupied at this time of day. and just your luck, they were all out there. clover sat with an expression entirely too focused for what she was doing, gluing press-on nails to the tips of her fingers. viki was typing away at her computer, eyes flashing between the screen and her written notes beside her working on the essay that was due at the end of the month. and like always, emmy was in her own little world – cuddling close to her boyfriend, jay, his arm set on her shoulders as he pressed kisses against her skin. loving every last giggle he's able to pull from her.

their eyes all slowly snap up when isis is reaching the table, slapping the drawing down in the center. for a second, no one says anything. isis is pointing dramatically across the table with one arm while holding you back with the other. “viki, you owe me fifty bucks. i was right!” brows raise at her words, everyone leaning forward to take a look at the piece of paper on the table.

viki is letting out a gasp, large eyes lifting up to look between you two. “oh my god. riki drew this?” isis is nodding, a proud smile on her face as if she were the one that drew it. “mhm!” she's extending her arm out toward viki, as you give up fighting against her, arms crossed over your chest. “pay up.” your eyes narrow, their words fully processing now.

“wait.” you're pointing between the two of them. “you bet that he'd draw me?” isis snorts, plopping down into the empty bench space, scooting over to make room for you to sit beside her. “no, of course not.” viki says as she reaches into her purse, to grab her wallet – counting out fifty dollars before sliding the cash across the table. her eyes flicker back over to you once isis takes it. “we bet that he's in love with you,”

your jaw drops, eyes blinking as snickers erupt around the table. “what?” you say, though you heard them loud and clear. “riki isn't in love with me,” your head shakes violently, hands waving in front of you like you're physically trying to reject their words. “he so is,” viki says with a laugh, gesturing toward the image that still rests on the table. “look at all the detailing, oh my god.”

emmy reaches for the drawing carefully, she lifts it by the edges oohing and ahhing like she's handling museum grade artwork instead of a normal sketch from some random college boy. “oh, he's head over heels in love.” she says with a gasp, which has jay leaning over to peek at the drawing himself. his brow raises slightly a soft scoff falling from his lips. “ehh, i could do that.” he says with a shrug.

clover is rolling her eyes at his words, “you couldn't, shut up.” she waves him off, extending her hand toward emmy. “let me see.” the drawing is handed across the table and clover holds it the same delicate way emmy had been, viki is leaning over too to get a better look at it. “wait! he even added that heart gem you sometimes put on your cheek.” her eyes snap up to inspect your features. “you're not even wearing one today,” she points out with a grin. “that means he's always paying attention to you. he's so in love, fuck.”

the drawing gets passed from clover to viki, back to emmy over to isis and that's when you're able to grab it, quickly tucking it between the pages of your textbook. “okay, that's enough.” you grumble, paying too much attention to carefully putting the photo away – sure not to bend any edges. it's tucked away safely, your book is closed over it and the conversation had moved on from you.

yet you could still see the drawing each time you blinked, how focused he looked while he was making it and the unmistakable redness at the tip of his ears when he was handing it to you. and the way your friends sounded so sure just by seeing the way he drew you, it didn't make sense. they were being ridiculous, obviously they were. completely and uttering ridiculous.

riki wasn't in love with you. he couldn't be. he was annoying, arrogant, lazy, impossible to work with. why would he be in love with you? the same boy that spent entire lectures spaced out in his sketchbook, showed up to study sessions high and never paid attention when he needed to. and you were the complete opposite of that, there was absolutely no reason for him to be in love with you.

the rest of the week rolls by like it normally would, long lectures, classes with your friends, arguing with riki over assignments, extra credit work. everything was seemingly normal, yet you felt different each time you were flipping open your notebook – being met with the drawing given to you mere days ago. it shouldn't effect you as much as it does. and for this long either, it had been days since riki had torn a page from his sketchbook, holding it out and walking away without any explanation. and he hadn't mentioned it since then, so why were you still replaying the moment like it was some type of profound development in your relationship?

nothing had changed, he was still annoying. still lazy. still attached to your chemistry grade in the most frustrating way. there was no reason why he was flooding your thoughts every few hours like he was anything more than a nuisance. you realize sometime saturday morning that the real problem wasn't the portrait, or the gross attention to detail, it was your friends. they had gotten in your head with that whole 'he's in love with you', nonsense and now you couldn't shake the possibility of that actually being true.

and how it could effect your grade in the future. no matter how many times you explained that riki was an artist and artists noticed things, they never let up. viki had even started referring to him as your 'future husband' each time you brought him up to complain. emmy and isis had somehow constructed an entire relationship timeline based solely on delusion. no wonder you couldn't get him out of your head, your friends made sure it was impossible.

the weekend passes in a blur, more studying, cramming. avoiding pointless hangouts with an excuse of needing to get your work done. in reality, you just needed to spend some time alone – get your feelings in order before you had to start up the school week again. and by monday morning you're more confused than you had been on wednesday when all of this started. you had texted riki twice this weekend, nothing major, everything to do with being lab partners, but you found yourself reading into his responses more than you normally would.

there was your first message friday night, it had taken him four hours to respond and you couldn't help but wonder what he was doing in the time that he wasn't answering you. more curious than anything, because you could only assume that he was focused on drawing – like he always was. and you couldn't help but wonder what he could possibly be drawing and if it had anything to do with you. even thinking that felt delusional. it was one portrait that you basically begged for, why would you spend hours drawing you after that?

anyway, the exchange went like this:

yn. (lab freak) | 21:36 did you take notes this morning? i feel like im missing smth. riki nishimura | 01:17 no.

and that was it. no follow up, no question on what you could possibly be missing. just two letters. two letters that took him four hours to type out by the way. you didn't see the message until the next day and it had you in a sour mood all morning, hence your sudden saturday realization of why you were feeling like this over a loser you really couldn't care less about. your damn friends and their teasing, to reiterate.

the next message was midday on sunday. he answered much faster this time, but still with the same level of dryness that you hadn't realized until now was in most of his messages.

yn. (lab freak) | 15:22 we need to be in class early tmrw. idk what im missing riki nishimura | 15:24 got u

again, that was it. and you spend much longer than you're willing to admit staring at your message log. eyes rolling with a scoff after a few minutes of staring had passed. yeah right, he was in love with you. he couldn't even hold a proper conversation with you, your friends were just chatting shit like they always did. you were repeating that thought all throughout your classes on monday, reminding yourself each time you caught a glimpse of him in the halls and it was working.

by the afternoon, the possibility was so far from your head it's almost laughable that you had even been considering it in the first place. it's six minutes before you should be meeting riki to go over the notes that you didn't have. you had every intention to be there on time, early even. but the vending machine in the left corner of the dining hall clearly had other plans for you.

“are you kidding me!?” you're grumbling, fingers punching against the numbers aggressively.

riki spots you the moment he's rounding the corner, hands shoved deep in his pockets as he takes lazy steps toward the chemistry lab. his head tilts as he watches you, taking in the annoyed expression on your features and the way you push the buttons of the vending machine repeatedly. you look hot, like you always do and he's not ashamed of the way his eyes travel over your body.

your shirt is simple. just a plain white short sleeved top, nothing flashy about it. but the way the fabric stretched tight over your frame, fitted enough to look intentional without making it seem like you tried too hard has him staring harder than he should be. the shirt stops several inches above your waist, highlighting the dip that he's imagined tracing with his hands more times than he can count. gold chains drape across your hips and stomach, glinting whenever you move.

the skirt you wear is even worse. its tiny, faded denim that looked a bit worn. and it rides up slightly higher on one thigh as you shift your weight, growing impatient with the machine you're fighting. it's becoming annoying how badly he wants to just bend you over and the fact that he can't, can only sketch the moment but he'd never know exactly how you felt beneath him.

honestly, everything about you had been annoying him lately. the way you glared at him, the pretty smiles you saved only for your friends, how close you sat without even realizing it, the sweet smell of your perfume. how you'd always appear in every face he drew – no matter how many times he swore he was done drawing you. yet he couldn't stop his brain from cataloging every last detail about you, storing them away for later. he's already mentally saving the annoyed expression you're wearing right now to use tonight.

“ugh seriously,” you groan, bending down to push the flap of the vending machine back, checking if any of your food had dropped out without you noticing. it hadn't. riki can't help the chuckle that falls from his lips, head shaking from side to side as he makes his way toward you.

you feel his warmth before you fully realize that it's him. one second you're fighting with a vending machine that clearly has some type of vendetta against you, and the next a hand is appearing beside your shoulder. long fingers bracing against glass and effectively enveloping you in his bubble. riki's hip bumps yours lightly, just enough to push you out of the way and you're suddenly aware of how close he is to you. his chest pressed to your shoulder, you can feel the rumble of his voice as he speaks.

“this machine eats bills. you have to use your card,” he's learned that one the hard way, hundreds of dollars wasted before he was putting two and two together. his words barely reach you at first, lips parting slightly as your head tilts up to look at him. and unfortunately seeing him this close undoes all of the mental preparation you've done all morning. because he looks good, effortlessly. and it was ridiculously annoying.

his red racing jacket hangs off his frame in way that should swallow him whole, but instead it does the opposite. the bright red of the fabric brings out the tan undertones of his skin – the pinkness of his lips. his sleeves are too long, bunched up at the elbow so you're able to see the silver jewelry that adorn his wrists and knuckles. you hate that you've started noticing his hands.

especially now because they seem to be everywhere lately. handing you erasers in the middle of lectures, turning pages in text books during study sessions, dragging through his messy sandy blond hair. resting against your waist in daydreams you refuse to examine too closely.

his baseball cap sits low over his eyes, shadowing the upper half of his face, leaving only the sharp line of his nose and mouth visible as he glances down at the payment screen. he's digging through his pocket with his free hand, pulling his wallet out wordlessly. tapping his heavy black card against the screen without even looking, fingers flying as he presses the same buttons you had been before. only this time the machine actually starts rumbling.

the sandwich falls first, chicken salad. and then your sparkling water. he presses a few more buttons, getting himself a protein bar and that shoots out immediately too. you watch as he crouches down, pushing the flap of the machine back to retrieve your items. he hands both of your things up with this annoying cocky smile, eyes glinting as you take it. “bon appetit,” he grins and you're rolling your eyes out of habit.

“thanks,” you mutter, the world coming out reluctantly. as if you're being physically forced to say it. and it's not like you don't appreciate his help, you would've been here all day if it wasn't for him. it's how annoyingly attractive he looked while helping and the fact that you weren't able to ignore it as easily anymore. “do you want me to pay you back?” the question barely leaves your mouth before he's letting out a short scoff through his nose.

“it was six bucks,” he says like you've suggested something genuinely ridiculous. you had. who would charge six dollars for anything? especially when he had voluntarily helped you. he could've kept walking, kept his six dollars to himself. of course you didn't need to pay him back. and he found it funny that you would even think that you needed to.

did your friends suck or something? he's tearing into his protein bar, taking a large bite before his head tilts toward the direction of the science hall. “come on,” he's already starting to walk ahead, back turning toward you like he was sure that you'd follow. “we need to study and we're already late,” he mocks the tone that you frequently use on him, walking forward and you stand there staring at the back of his head for a second. the thoughts that you had shooed away rushing back.

guys didn't just do favors for random girls out of nowhere, right? maybe your friends weren't so far off, because six dollars wasn't a lot, right – but he could've just kept walking. he saw you fumbling and struggling and decided to stop and help you. that had to mean something in guy world, right?

you've decided to use the time you spent with riki as an opportunity to gather evidence of whether or not your friends' hypothesis of him being in love with you were in fact correct. it started with his rescue at the vending machine, creating a possible yes. he helped you figure out your notes, being way more attentive than you've ever seen him before. another yes. but then he ignored you for the rest of the day, even when you waved at him across the hall. back to no.

tuesday morning you texted him to meet in the quad, you needed his half of the packet in order to perfect yours. he didn't text back, so no. but then he was there waiting before you even got to school, so back to yes. he texted you tuesday night, a funny video that related to a comment you made days ago. big yes. but then he left you on read right after that, so back to no.

and we could never forget each time he rejected your requests to see his sketchbook, those were the biggest no's if you've ever seen them before. so by the time wednesday was rolling around, you were more confused than ever. and it wasn't even like you had feelings for riki, he was still everything that you decided he was when you were first meeting him. you just hated the ambiguity of it all. because why would he draw you with so much detail, but then ignore you immediately after?

it didn't make sense. he didn't make sense.

the two of you occupy your usual table near the back of the room. professor alexander has a video playing at the front of the room about reaction rates, but everyone is mainly doing their own thing. except you, you're taking notes. raising your hand and requesting bits to be replayed as you typed rhythmically. riki is drawing beside you, head bowed and arm guarding his book like it always does.

the fact that he somehow maintains his academic rank despite spending every lecture doodling remains one of the greatest injustices you've ever witnessed and you'd never stop mentioning it for as long as you were forced to know him. still, you take your notes peacefully. gliding the cursor over important sentences to highlight them, adding comments in the margins. these were good notes. maybe some of the best notes you've ever taken, so your annoyance when someone is calling your name is justified.

you're glancing up with furrowed brows riki's head lifting along with yours. jungwon stands at the edge of your desk. you recognize him from your physics class. he was smart, funny, and almost as high strung as you. his dimples pop as he smiles at you, hair swishing to the side as he tilts his head. “a couple of us are going to trivia night friday,” he says it like you're meant to do something with the information, you're nodding slightly.

“okay.”

for a second, his eyes drift to riki and you're following his gaze, missing the way he had been frowning because he's quickly dropping his attention back to his sketchbook. “you should come,” he offers and you already feel the pull to say no, but you're stuck with the disappointment that you know will come with it. it's not like you didn't want to, just that you saved friday's to go to the gym, catch up on homework... and the fact that you hated trivia. but then again, jungwon was kind enough to invite you. and there had to be a reason why he was thinking of you of all people to join his group.

what could be the harm? you haven't gone out in a while. “sure,”

jungwon's smile brightens, “seriously?” you can't help but laugh at his excitement, head bobbing in a nod. “yeah, it could be fun.” he's nodding along with you in agreement, finger typing away at his phone before he's extending it out to you – the screen prompting you to put your number in. “it will be, i'll text you about it.” a few more words are exchanged between the two of you before he's turning to head back toward his seat.

the moment he's out of earshot, riki is letting out a scoff. you turned to find him sitting there with his nose scrunched as if he just smelled something unpleasant. your brow lifts as you stare at him, “what's your problem?” his shoulders lift in a shrug, head dropping back down to shade the edges of his drawing. “thought you didn't like trivia,” he mumbles and you don't miss the pout that forms on his lips. you ignore how cute the expression is, focusing on how he could possibly know you didn't like trivia.

“what are you talking about?”

his eyes lift with a huff, wrist quickly flipping his sketchbook closed so he can lean back in his chair. “you don't like trivia.” the statement falls from his lips with complete certainty. like he's simply informing you of a fact. one plus one is two. the sky is blue. the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. and you did not like trivia. still, you feel the need to defend yourself. “yes, i do.”

riki's eyes roll immediately. “no you don't,” he counters and his confidence annoys you. “since when do you know that i like?” you challenge. the expression on his face suggest you're the one being unreasonable. questioning something that the both of you knew to be true. “you literally told me.” he recalls the conversation perfectly, it hadn't been entirely deep or anything of the sort. but it was a fact. and maybe it was a terrible habit of his, but he could never seem to ignore the facts.

you're blinking up at him. “when did i tell you that?”

that has him letting out an annoyed huff. if you wanted to lie in order to go on a stupid date with jungwon, that was one thing. but acting like he didn't know what was true was a different type of annoying. “our second week as partners. like four months ago. one of the options for the lab of that week was to create a trivia game and you said you hated trivia because it was a lame way for dumb people to feel smart. and then you went on an entire rant about how real knowledge was in essays and research,” the conversation slowly comes back to you as he recounts it.

but he's not done. “and then, you went on about how escape rooms were a scam, that rant lasted for thirteen minutes before we were bringing it back to the assignment. i asked you how many escape rooms you had to fail, before you were deciding they were all scams and you yelled at me for going off topic. you. don't. like. trivia.” he slows down his last sentence, figuring you needed to hear it slowly for it to register in your brain. the silence stretches between the two of you as you stare at him with your mouth agape.

every single one of those things sounds exactly like something you would absolutely say. and the issue wasn't even that he proved you wrong, it was the fact that he had remembered something random you had said to him four months ago. you had forgotten literally five minutes after the words left your mouth, but he held onto them for a four full months. and somehow that was turning all your big no's regarding the hypothesis of your friends into absolute yeses.

you decide to keep your findings to yourself until you have real concrete evidence. right now you were working on hypotheticals, that wasn't enough to determine someone's feelings. especially someone as unreliable as riki nishimura. you're calling him that same night without even thinking twice about it, the chemistry assignment that had been given at the end of class was due in a few hours and you needed to make sure he had done his part. that was your excuse. a perfectly reasonable excuse.

the phone rings twice before his face appears on the screen. and immediately something inside of you feels off. because while you've seen riki every single day for the past four months, seeing him through your phone felt different. he was sitting on the floor beside his bed, one knee drawn up toward his chest while the phone was propped awkwardly against something out of frame. the lighting of his room dim and warm, creating pretty shadows along his jaw and cheekbones. his hair is messier than usual, his white tank top hanging loose around his shoulders.

he's staring back at you, glossy eyes scanning over your features and one thing becomes obvious as you watch him. he's smiling, like actually smiling, nothing like the annoying smirk he always seemed to wear. your eyes are narrowing at the sight of it. “what's wrong with you?” riki blinks, a soft chuckle falling from his lips as his eyes scan your features. “what do you mean?”

you're in your room from what he can tell, laying flat on your stomach with the phone angled just slightly above your head. you look pretty, hair cascading down your shoulders and an accusatory expression directed at him. lips perfectly glossed like they always are and he doesn't try to hide the way his eyes drift down to them. “why are you smiling like that?” your lip curls up and nose scrunches like you're disgusted by the idea of him experiencing any type of happiness.

he's laughing. it's such a pretty rare sound and hearing it reminds you instantly how stingy he was with his laughter. there was no way he'd just be giving laughs away right now, especially when there was absolutely nothing funny. realization dawns on you a minute too late. “oh my god,” you're leaning forward, glaring at him through the screen.

riki is leaning back as if you're able to jump through. “are you high?” the smile on his face widens as he nods his head up and down, but his words betray his movements. “maybe,” you're groaning, positive now that he hadn't even looked at the assignment let alone started it. he was too busy getting doped out on god knows what and you had like three hours before your work was due.

“you're unbelievable, riki.” he's blowing an obnoxious kiss in your direction before another string of laughter is leaving his lips. “thank you,” he doesn't even flinch at the scowl you send his way, proving just how far gone he was. “no. dude we have work due. did you even start it? what is wrong with you?” he's barely listening as you slip into one of your many lectures. “like it's one thing if you want to throw your life away, but don't drag me along with you, riki. why can't you just do you work when it's due? why do i always have to remind you, like-”

he's interrupting you before you can finish your next set of insults. “are we partners or are you the boss of me?” his head tilts to the side like he was genuinely curious about the answer to his question and that confuses you. “...what?” he repeats the words harmlessly, like the issue was you just didn't hear him correctly. you're blinking, brows furrowing slightly. “what are you talking about? we're partners...”

“okay then,” he says with a nod, “then relax. if you did your part, assume i did mine. you're not in charge, yn.” he reaches for something off screen, the neckline of his tank top drooping as he leans forward and you're catching a glimpse of the muscles stretched beneath his tanned skin hidden by the fabric of his shirt. your eyes are snapping back up to his face when he's shifting back into frame. “plus aren't you going on a fuck ass trivia date?” his lips wrap around his straw, cheeks hallowing as he sucks back big gulps from his milk tea.

“that's not until friday. and it's not a date,” he's setting his drink down, leaning against the edge of his bed. “well, don't take that out on me,” he says with a laugh, tongue running over his lower lip as his eyes trace over you. “i don't know what you're talking about. did you do the assignment or not?” you're ignoring the way his eyes on you makes your head spin, the question coming out sharper than you initially intended.

the smile never leaves his face. his head tilted back, toying with something between his fingers as you stare at him, waiting. it takes a few seconds for you to realize that he has no intention of answering you. “riki.” he hums vaguely, barely focused on the issue at hand. he's just staring at you like a weirdo. you're rolling your eyes, head shaking. “oh my god.” you huff. “it's due in three hours, three.” you hold your fingers up for emphasis and riki's head bobs in a nod.

his gaze shifts lower for a second, lingering below your nose and you watch the way his lashes flutter, teeth tugging at his lower lip as his gaze drags back up to your eyes. you don't dare to delve into what he could be thinking. you stay focused to what's safe. “and did you hear that professor will be taking points off if our formatting is wrong? make sure to double check yours. it needs to be done tonight, you're not going to have time if you're focused on cosplaying as a stoner loser,”

riki's shoulders shake with laughter, “how much time do you think you spend worrying about me?” he asks with a grin, eyes traveling down the length of your neck noticing the way your tits press against the fabric of your shirt and you're shifting before he can decipher whether or not you're wearing a bra. “i'm not worried about you, riki. you can flunk out of life for all i care, my grade is attached to yours, that's the issue.” he likes the way your head tilts when you feel like you're telling him off.

“should i kick it into gear then? if i start trying as hard as you do, there's no way you'd be able to keep up.” you know he's talking about grades, but the way his eyes linger on your mouth has you thinking there's something else hidden in his words. you're ignoring that too. “if you just tell me whether or not you're done or almost done, i'll leave you alone,” his lips push out in a pout, heading leaning to the side slightly as he feigns disappointment.

“aw, but you're not killing my high at all,” he fake coos, pout shifting into a grin when he watches the way your face twists. he knew exactly how to push your buttons, he loved how easily he was able to rile you up. it's like everything he did got under your skin in the best way. “ugh, do you see how insufferable you are!?” your reaching up to tug your hair back and his eyes are shooting down quickly, peeking at your chest before rushing back up to your face. no bra, hm. he's saving that away for later.

you're taking his silence as your cue to hurl more insults his way, you're three sentences in when you realize that he's definitely not listening to you. just staring absently at your mouth as you speak. that has your words slowing, confusion making it's way into your tone. “okay. what are you looking at?” you snap, earning a line of snickers from him.

“your lips,” he says it like its the most obvious thing in the world, gesturing vaguely at the screen. “they're nice.” he decides to keep it tame, because what was actually at the tip of his tongue would've earned him a swift end to the call and a restraining order the next day, he was sure of it. “that's such a weird thing to say,” you're scoffing but he doesn't miss the soft pink that lifts on your cheeks.

he's nodding easily, “i'm aware.”

“then why would you even say that?” his gaze hasn't lifted from your lips once actually, it seemed like he was looking at them more intently since he had admitted that he was. “because i was thinking it,” he shrugs, tongue tracing over his own lips as he stares at yours. and you feel the heat of his stare even through the screen, it's enough to have you shifting on your bed, trying to soothe some of the tension rising in your stomach.

“you're high,” you point out, more so for yourself than to him. he's laughing, nodding quickly. “you're so smart,” he smiles and you're continuing on without missing a bit. “a normal person would've just kept that thought to themselves,” dark eyes roll down at you, his shoulders lifting in a shrug and plump lips puckering out, “oops.” despite yourself, you're letting out a laugh. it's how cute he looks with that expression on his face, like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

and his laughter follows yours, warm and clearly amused. undeniably pleased with himself because for the first time in how ever long he's known you, this was the first time that you looked relax talking to him. although, it only lasted a few seconds – he'd take it. your eyes lift to find his after the laughter had died down and he doesn't look the least bit embarrassed.

he just settles deeper against the side of his bed, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he watches you. “your turn, compliment me.” he says after a minute. the words catch you off guard, forcing your brows to shoot up. he sounds so casual as he speaks too, as if he was asking you something simple like 'pass the salt'. like he hadn't just spent the last ten minutes openly checking you out and now was asking you to do the same.

but no matter how cute he looked in that one moment, you weren't one to fall for his gimmicks. there was a reason why you were suffering through this phone call in the first place. “did you finish the assignment or not?” his smile doesn't falter, not for a second. one shoulder lifts, then drops. “maybe, maybe not.” you're letting out a huff, that he quickly joins already predicting the sounds you make when you're annoyed with him. “riki.” you warn.

“i'll tell you once i get my compliment,” on screen, he's reaching forward again, leaning over lifting slightly to reach the top of the desk beside him. you watch as he gathers supplies slowly, tucking each item in his palm before searching through loose sheets of paper for the next. rolling paper. grinder. lighter. lastly he's grabbing a tray littered with clumps of weed.

riki plops back down onto his butt, being met with your glare. “do you really think you should be getting more high right now?” there's obvious judgment in your tone that he chooses to ignore. his gaze flicks upward, long fingers plucking up a few pieces of flower before dropping them into the grinder. “i'll definitely take your opinion into consideration,” he grins, twisting his wrists to work the metal between his hands.

you're groaning, flopping backward against the pillow. “we're so going to fail,” you sigh, hands reaching up to swipe across your face. on the screen, riki looks entirely too comfortable with your distress. you hadn't missed the way his tank top stretches across his chest, his collarbones on full display covered by the silver chains he never seemed to take off. the worst part is how focused he looks rolling another blunt for himself.

you've seen the same look of concentration on his face countless times before, usually saved for when he was drawing. hands steady as always, moving with the same confidence that they always do. his tongue briefly presses against the inside of his cheek as he works and you hate the way your eyes follow the movement of it, watching closely as the tip of his tongue traces his lips.

“come on,” he says, voice forcing your attention upward. “one compliment,” he's not looking at you, one hundred percent focused on sprinkling the freshly ground weed onto the rolling paper. “am i so bad that you can't even think of one?” your lips twist to the side as you look him over, it wasn't like you couldn't come up with a compliment for him. you weren't blind, everyone on campus knew how attractive riki was. it was his attitude that kept all the girls away, not his face, he was hot. objectively of course. but you'd never say that out loud.

instead, you watch him carefully. the paper rests against his knee while his hands move with practiced ease. his fingers work automatically, rolling and adjusting without needing to look down for more than a second at a time. you find yourself watching him longer than necessary, then for a few more seconds after that just in case. his rings catch the warm glow of his lamp off in the distance each time his wrist twists. his thumb smoothing across the paper before he's bringing it toward his lips.

the tip of his tongue brushes across the edge of the paper and you don't miss the way his eyes flicker up to you as it does, forcing a gasp from your lips. his brow furrows, fake confusion riddling his features as he watches you act like you hadn't been staring. “you really have nothing for me? don't you want to know if we're going to pass or fail?” he doesn't even care that it feels like he's begging for a compliment, because he was curious. you were so loose with the insults you had for him, but he knew there had to be something else to go along with all of that.

“you're literally holding my chemistry grade hostage,” you point out and he nods happily, thumb flicking against his lighter before running the fire across the body of his blunt. he's lighting the end without wasting another second, bringing one end to his lips as he does. “so what's it going to be, princess? are we releasing the hostages or is this a suicide mission?” his brow lifts, inhaling deeply with his blunt pressed to his lips.

you're rolling your eyes. “you're so lame,” you say through an amused sigh. you sit there for a short while, watching him inhale and exhale, his lips puckering as he blows smoke from them. he reaches off screen to shake the ash off every few puffs before sinking back against his bed. riki doesn't take his eyes off of you the entire time, watching you through his long lashes patiently. “ugh, fine.” you're finally saying, earning a satisfied grin from him.

“remember last year? when your hair was black, that looked good,” he can't help the laugh that escape his lips, leave it to you to insult and compliment him all at the same time. “that's not a compliment.” he points out, because you know it's not. but because you're so stubbornly you, you're standing ten toes behind your lame attempt to get your way. “it is,” your arms cross over your chest, jaw set like you were begging for him to challenge you.

and he was never one to back down from a challenge. “no. that's you complimenting a version of me that literally doesn't exist anymore,” your shoulders lift in a quick shrug. “still counts.” he's snorting, deciding that he was finished with his blunt, he presses the end into the tray by his thigh. “you're basically saying i looked better a year ago... and why do you even know what i looked like a year ago? we just met,” it's not like it was impossible for you to have seen him before, but you didn't strike him as the type to notice anyone who didn't fall in your immediate circle.

so spotting him, seeing his hair, deciding you liked it and committing to memory seemed very out of character for you. your mouth opens to defend yourself, but you're quickly realizing that you had nothing to say to justify how or why you'd remember what he looked like last year. nothing that wouldn't give away the fact that you thought he was cute the first time you saw him, developed a tiny crush that was quickly snuffed out when you found out how much of a slacker he was.

“should i pretend this doesn't mean you've been keeping tabs on me?” he teases after you've been quiet for too long and you're groaning, eyes rolling as you pull the phone away from your face. you can hear his laughter through the speaker, body feeling warm enough that he's hunching over to the side as his laughs shake his body. you find him laying on his side when you lift the phone back up, a silly smile on his lips. he's instantly spotting the embarrassed flush of your cheeks.

“relax, princess. i spotted you the first day of freshmen year,” he confesses, but doesn't give you a moment to react before he's changing the subject. “and i finished my part like an hour after it was assigned. i'll email you,” he's deciding that's the end of the conversation, finger pressing against the red button on the screen before you're able to get a goodbye in.

thursday afternoon you're finding riki sat with his friends in the center of the student union. it's loud enough to make concentrating impossible, chatter from the groups scattered around the building creating a unbalanced hum, someone plays music from a speaker, a group of freshmen argue over a card game by the window. the smell of coffee and french fries sits permanently in the air.

riki leans back comfortably in his chair, scrolling aimlessly through his phone while jake and sunghoon bicker about something or another. the thick review packet you had handed him this morning sits untouched in front of him and it was most likely going to stay that way until he decided that he was running out of time to finish it. jake spots you first, charging into the building with an all too serious expression on your face. his conversation with sunghoon dies as his eyes widen, “oh no.” sunghoon is following his gaze, a grin pulling across his lips. “oh here comes your wife,” he says, jutting his chin out to point in your direction.

it takes a moment before riki is realizing that they're talking to him, he's glancing over his shoulder quickly his eyes instantly finding you. purpose behind each kick of your long legs, your ponytail swings behind you with each step. your eyes are already zeroed on him as you walk, the pleats of your skirt shift around your thighs as you squeeze through tables making a beeline in his direction. a binder tucked beneath one arm, iced coffee gripped in your hand. he doesn't even need to guess why you're heading over to him and he's already bored.

“hi, yn.” he groans as you're setting the binder onto the table, pulling out the empty chair beside him and lowering yourself into it. you ignore his greeting, immediately pointing at the untouched review packet. “we need to study. i don't care if you think you can wing it,” jake averts his gaze as soon as he hears the sternness in your voice and sunghoon is deciding that his drink is the most fascinating thing in the world. riki stares blankly at you before his eyes are drifting to his friends for some sort of backup, only to realize they're both cowards.

“you guys are pathetic,” he grumbles. “we haven't even said anything!” jake defends and riki is scoffing, “that's the point.” they've heard riki complain about you enough to know to stay out of it. he described you as his personal academic probation officer and the fact that you were a certified ten did very little to take away from how annoying you got when it came to school work. it was funny enough when riki was just complaining about you, but actually witnessing it in person was far more entertaining. they were just smart enough not to get in the way of your line of fire.

you ignore them entirely. “when were you planning on studying?” he shrugs. “tomorrow,” he says it like it was a suggestion, because in all reality he hadn't put much thought into it. he figured he'd flip through the text book a few minutes before the test started and call it a day. that's what he did most of the time, but the fact that this test was a joint one – you weren't going to let his lazy efforts slide.

“the test is tomorrow, riki.” you point out and he nods, lips lifting to show off that stupid grin. “exactly.” he smiles and you're shaking your head, reaching over him to flip open the packet that you had given him. you could tell that he hadn't even bothered to open it since this morning. “this is a big test, riki. we need to get a good score,” that's what you always said, everything was a big deal. and that just didn't make sense, because if everything was a big deal – then nothing was.

his eyes drift over your features slowly, sliding down the length of your neck to dance over the lace collar of your shirt. a tiny cute bow rests between your breasts against the fabric and he imagines for a second his teeth tugging at it. “have you eaten anything yet?” his hand expertly shoves the packet aside as he turns fully in his chair to look down at you. your brows raise, “what are you talking about?”

“it's lunch time.” his eyes flicker toward your untouched coffee, then back up to your face. “did you eat?” for a moment you're genuinely confused, his sudden concern for whether or not you've eaten seemed unrelated to the very important matter at hand. “we need to study. i have no idea where you're at with any of this stuff. i'll worry about my stomach later,” across the table, sunghoon slowly lowers his drink. jake's face is scrunching up in pure confusion, because this interaction looks insane.

riki is pushing the packet away fully now, the thick pages knocking against sunghoon's fist. he quickly gets the hint, pulling the stack of papers from the table and setting it in his lap. riki catches the movement from the corner of his eye, a smirk spreading across his lips. “let's go eat,” you can’t focus on the way they’re so obviously hiding the packet from you, not when riki is standing from his seat, holding a large hand down to you.

“you want to get lunch?” he's nodding quickly, wiggling his fingers out to you. and you're reluctantly taking his hand, allowing him to pull you up from the seat. he ushers you in front of him, review packet completely forgotten as he leads you down the hall. “we're studying after,” you warn, a finger pointed in his direction. riki nods simply, hand ghosting over the small of your back as the two of you walk toward the dining hall.

emmy notices you first. one second she's following the others through the dining hall, her plate balanced on one hand while she texts expertly with the other, half listening to clover as she complains about her professor who she was positive was racist and sexist and that's why her grade was suffering. the next, her attention is catching on a familiar ponytail swishing through the crowd.

she almost lifts a hand to wave you over, before she's noticing who's trailing closely behind you. riki. of course. viki is egging clover on while isis and jay look for a good spot to sit, none of them paying attention to the breaking news that just entered the dining hall. “guys,” emmy calls, the hurried tone of her voice making them stop in their tracks. she's gesturing widely over at you, you're mid rant it seems and riki half listens with his hand on your waist – guiding you toward the array of food.

he nods along to what you're saying as if he's actually listening and that's shocking enough for your friends. most people gave up trying to follow your stream of consciousness after about thirty seconds, riki has apparently survived the entire walk across the union and from the looks of it, you weren't even close to wearing him down. they watch as he walks you to the serving line, reaching for the stack of empty plates to hand one over to you. and before you can finish whatever point you're making, riki is picking one of the better looking sandwiches from the selection, setting it down on your plate.

the gesture has your friends gaping. “is he serving her?” viki asks, head tilting to the side as he scoops some salad onto your plate. across the room, you hold your plate out for him, words still flowing from your lips without missing a beat and riki is positive you no longer care if he's listening, you enjoy the sound of your own voice way too much to notice either way.

the two of you are making your way to one of the empty tables hidden in the corner of the room without a second thought, you don't even realize your friends are also in the room as you settle onto the bench. the moment you're settling, you're rummaging through your bag to pull out your notes – spreading them over the table. isis is letting out an amused snort. “of course she would,” she comments, pushing a few fries past her lips.

you flip through highlighted pages, immediately launching into what can only be described as an impromptu study session. you didn't miss the way riki ditched his review packet back with his friends, but that wasn't going to stop you from reviewing. how foolish of him to think you wouldn't have copies of everything you needed to know for the test tomorrow. riki squirts a healthy amount of ketchup on his plate, mindlessly twirling a chicken strip in it before he's tearing a bite off.

he's barely listening as you drone on, his fingers lifting your wrapped straw from the table. riki's carefully tearing the plastic off before dropping it into your lemonade, gently pushing the glass toward you. and your friends eat up the silent gesture, nearly losing their minds when you're reaching for the cup almost immediately, taking a sip out of it like it's the most natural thing in the world. you're right back to reading before you've even set the glass back down and riki is shaking his head.

he says something to you that forces you to glare over at him and his shoulders are lifting in a careless shrug, eyes dropping to his plate as he shoves more food into his mouth. you try to continue reading but he shakes his head, body turning from you with each sentence you try to read. eventually, you're giving up, reaching down to unwrap your sandwich before taking a bite out of it. that has a smile spreading across his features, but he's frowning again when you're turning back to your notes.

the two of you continue like that through the entire hour. riki urging you to eat and ditch the notes while you tried to sneak little facts into your conversation. entirely in your own little bubble, you had no idea how domestic the two of you looked to any outsiders. your friends sat confused at the other side of the room, mini debates erupting on whether or not the two of you were together for real now, because from where they were sitting, you looked exactly like a couple that had no idea they were acting like one yet.

the sky opened up thirty minutes before the start of your first class. the insistent patter of rain hitting against the windows, roaring through every classroom on campus. the weather had apparently changed it's mind since you had checked the app this morning, it wasn't supposed to rain until after six. which is exactly why you dressed the way you had this morning. one of your favorite mini skirts and a leather tube top, you couldn't be more poorly dressed for the weather.

by the time you're stepping out of the library, the sky has turned an ugly gray. water slams against the pavement hard enough to blur the opposite side of campus. even still, you can make out the way students dart between buildings, backpacks lifted over their heads while they sprint through the puddles. you’re stuck in the doorway, staring into the storm knowing at some point you were going to have to suck it up. your class was on the other side of the campus, fifteen minutes away.

the wind blows wet droplets in your directions and you flinch as the cold water hits your skin. yeah, there was no way you'd be able to do this. “run. you can do it,” you hear from behind you, sarcastically encouraging and you're recognizing the voice before you're even turning around. riki. of course it was. this man was literally everywhere and you genuinely couldn't understand why.

he's stepping to stand beside you, eyes shamelessly dragging over your body. your tiny skirt hung low on your hips, revealing the chains and beads around your waist that he was quickly realizing were permanent. a strapless top that left your shoulders bare and he found it interesting how you were able to make shoulders distracting. gold jewelry hanging from your neck, wrists, fingers and even a cuff around your thigh. you definitely didn't bother to check the weather before leaving your room.

“maybe you can't do it,” he's taking back his statement, eyes drifting to how hard the rain was falling and how little clothes you were wearing. his doubt had a competitive fire lighting in your chest. “i can make it,” he's laughing at the obnoxiously determined look painting your features. “you'd make it about ten feet before eating shit,” he predicts, eyes dropping down to the heels that you're wearing. the sound of rain pounding harder against the pavement proves his point.

you stand there eyeing the storm while riki stands there watching you. students continue to rush past, grumbling about you both being in the way, but neither of you bother to move. it's like you're stuck in place, because the image of you attempting to run across campus ends one of three ways. a twisted ankle, a destroyed outfit or and this one came with either option – public humiliation. no thank you.

riki is letting out a sigh like he's accepted some terrible burden, he shifts and for a second you assume he's finally leaving you to figure this out without his scrutinizing stare. but he doesn't go far, just close enough to the building to toss his backpack inside, hands reaching up to tug at the zipper of his hoodie. you watch as he shrugs the garment off, revealing a black tank top that hangs loosely from his shoulders. the muscles of his arms flex as he balls up the sweater in his hands, dropping it onto your head.

“ow.” the fabric muffles your voice and riki is rolling his eyes. “it's cotton,” you reach up to yank it off of your head, “yeah, but it still hit me.” you're ready to shoot a glare up at him but he's already started walking away. stepping into the rain without a glance backward. and you have to blink a few times to ensure you were seeing him correctly. within seconds his dark shirt clings to his back, heavy droplets weighing down his once styled hair. he's soaked before he's even a foot away, but he doesn't react. his hands are shoved deep in his pockets as each step grows the distance between you.

oh this was definitely, without a doubt a yes. your eyes drop to the black hoodie in your hands, the entire exchange had to have lasted less than three seconds. he saw that you were in need of something and without asking he was providing it to you. despite the fact that it was a huge disadvantage to him. your friends weren't crazy, you were. and riki too. he better not get sick over this.

by the time you pull the sweater onto your body, he's halfway across the quad. sunghoon is catching up to him with an umbrella and you feel less bad about the warmth of his hoodie. the sleeves extend beyond your fingertips and you have to push them out of the way in order to tug the zipper up. the hem swallows your skirt entirely. you're flipping the hood up before taking a careful step forward, completely enveloped in the scent of him.

it's a mixture of his expensive smelling cologne, laundry detergent and weed. you've spent enough afternoons sat beside him to recognize he always smelled good. but being wrapped in it was entirely different. it was almost intoxicating and you can't help the way your eyes flutter as his scent brings along images of him standing this close, surrounding you instead of his hoodie.

later that day, riki spots you quicker than he's willing to admit. the halls are crowded between classes, students weaving in every direction, headphones covering their ears and coffee cups clutched in their hands. you're across the way, but it's like riki can hear your voice perfectly in his ear the second his eyes are finding you. his hoodie still swallows your frame, you've even rolled up the sleeves to make it more comfortable, as if you planned on keeping it on permanently. it falls almost to the middle of your thighs, turning what should be an over sized sweater to something that looks more like a dress. and he can't get over how good his hoodie looked on your body.

the fact that you could've taken it off hours ago lingers in his mind. the rain had stopped just before noon, the sun was out and you hadn't been outside since this morning. even still, you're walking the halls in something that smells like him. and the realization makes his stomach tighten unexpectedly. riki doesn't realize how hard he's staring until jake's words are coming to a halt, his eyes following his gaze.

a grin slowly spreading across his features. “oh,” riki already knows that tone and he's rolling his eyes before anything else could be said. his eyes drift over to jake who's staring at him with a knowing smirk on his lips, dramatically squinting toward the opposite side of the hall where you and clover are disappearing from view, still deep in conversation.

“isn't that your hoodie?” sunghoon finally looks up from his phone, catching a glimpse of you just before you're disappearing. he recognizes the sweater immediately, he's asked to borrow it about a million times and was met with the same answer every single time. his eyes narrow almost immediately, gaze shifting back to riki. “what the hell?” he doesn't even bother to hide how offended he is. “why is yn wearing your three-thousand-dollar hoodie?” it's the exact wording riki's used each and every time he's told sunghoon he couldn't borrow it.

“three thousand two hundred,” the correction leaves his mouth automatically and jake is closing his eyes, hand reaching up to pinch at the bridge of his nose as he shakes his head. “we have to eat the rich,” he says it like there's no other choice and riki is snorting beside him. “you say that every other day,” his hand reaches up to push at his hair, it had dried since this morning laying a little too messily at the top of his head so he couldn't stop messing with it.

“because every other day you say something insane,” jake is glancing back in the direction that you had just disappeared in and sunghoon is quick to bring them back on track. “anyway. why?” he says with his arms crossed over his chest.

riki is letting out a soft laugh, shoving his hands into his pockets as he shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “it was raining. and she was wearing the tiniest skirt... so i let her borrow it,” it made sense at the time and honestly, it still made sense now. you made it to class without having to run and although he did get soaked, he had dried off by now.

no harm, no foul.

the explanation isn't enough to satisfy either of his friends, though. “borrow until when?” sunghoon presses, ready to claim his spot in line after you, if hoodies were just being handed out willy nilly. riki's answer should be immediate, a time frame of when he was going to get his clothes back, but in reality he hadn't given you one and he didn't really care to.

he's shrugging slightly, “i don't know.” the image flashes through his head again before he can manage to stop it. the too long sleeves rolled over your wrists, soft hem brushing your thighs and the way you were laughing with clover seeming undeniably comfortable in what you were wearing. and he beamed at the fact that it belonged to him. and he just loved knowing you were breathing him in each time you took a breath. the thought has a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “yeah, i don't know... she looks good in it,”

that has sunghoon erupting, his arms thrown up as he lets out a frustrated groan. “you have got to be kidding me,” he's quickly diving into a rant about fairness and friendship and how sharing was caring, arms flying around as he dated their entire friendship and all of the sacrifices he's made in the past and how this moment was actively shaping their future. riki is only half listening, he's too busy imagining what you'd look like wrapped in his hoodie but on top of him. how easy it would be to push it up to fuck into you. he could picture the way he'd go crazy nuzzling his face in your neck and smelling himself against your skin.

jake can tell how far gone his friend is just by looking, eyes barely focused as sunghoon rants and he knows that he’s somewhere else. it's concerning because in the years he's known riki, he's never seen him this interested in a girl. it's been months of this silent pining after you when the riki he knew would've gotten it done in a day or two. and the slow burn of it all had jake believing that there was something entirely else there.

“i need to smoke,” jake's interrupting act two of sunghoon's speech, reaching behind his ear to pull a pre-roll free. that catches both boys attention better than he had expected. “let's go out to my car, i have like three i haven't finished.” riki says and the three of them make their way toward the double doors. the sidewalks still glisten beneath the sun, water dripping from the tree branches overhead. jake holds his blunt between his lips, lighting it carefully before inhaling sharply. he lets the smoke hit his lungs, circulating before he's exhaling through his nose. he repeats the action two more times before he's holding his hand out to riki.

who takes it without hesitation and as he's bringing the unlit end to his lips, jake is asking the question they've all been too afraid to say out loud. “do you have feelings for yn?” the words hit riki deep in his chest, but he doesn't let himself think too deeply on it. instead, he's letting a laugh fall from his lips. a real genuine laugh that only dies when he's fitting the blunt between his lips again, taking a long drag from it. jake and sunghoon exchange a look across him, neither of them cracking the slightest of smiles. because that was answer enough and his silence after just solidified it.

riki doesn't say anything else the entire walk to his car, handing the blunt over to sunghoon and tucking his hand deep into his pocket, jake's words still linger in his mind and the fact that he truly had no other answer besides the one that he gave. and he's not even sure what's funny anymore.

riki has made a skill out of drawing you from memory. his pencil moves the moment he's sat in his room, comfortably slumped at his desk. the familiar lines of your face appearing before he even had the chance to do anything about it. every time he closed his eyes, he can still see exactly how you looked this afternoon, his hoodie covering your body. and he can't keep himself from detailing the exact image, the way the over sized shoulders hung lower than they should've, the sleeves that you had to keep rolling up. how he was fully imagining that you had nothing else underneath and all he had to do was tug a zipper to reveal your body to his greedy eyes.

you're laying back on his bed in the drawing, lip tucked between your teeth, brows knitted as obvious focus takes over your features. your hair is down in the drawing, tangled and messy in a way that it never is but he craved to see. legs spread as you lean back, the tips of your fingers peeking from the too long sleeves to reach between them. his breath hitches as his pencil moves lower, one of your hands holding the hoodie out of the way so he can watch your fingers move between your legs.

he feels the way his jeans tighten as his pencil creates the lines of your pussy, cute and dripping as always. you're making a mess on the sheets below you, arousal dripping from the tip of your fingers and he wanted so desperately to be able to suck it off. his hand reaches below his desk as his phone buzzes, the vibration rattling across the wood. his eyes shift toward it, widening when he sees your name flash on his screen.

yn. (lab freak) | 00:42 ill bring ur hoodie back tmrw

a smile immediately tugs at the corner of his lips. of course you'd be up worrying about returning his things when you should definitely be asleep. he could guess that you just finished studying too. he's typing the next two words before he can talk himself out of it, eyes flickering up to the half finished drawing of you on his desk.

riki nishimura | 00:44 keep it. yn. (lab freak) | 00:44 are you insane? this is a three thousand dollar hoodie.

riki laughs quietly to himself. he found it funny how the first thing you'd think of is looking up how much it cost and needing to return it back as quickly as possible now that you knew. he can practically picture you sitting there with your brows pulled together, offended on principle by the existence of a three-thousand-dollar hoodie even existing. he's nudging his drawing to the side slightly, lifting his phone with both hands before leaning back against his chair.

riki nishimura | 00:46 yeah it's chrome hearts :) yn. (lab freak) | 00:49 exactly how rich are u? riki nishimura | 00:51 🤷 yn. (lab freak) | 00:51 unbelievable.

he can hear the way you roll your eyes through the screen and that has him grinning, pleased that he's able to annoy you even through text. he's setting his phone down, deciding that was the end of the conversation as he lifts his pencil from his desk. he's back to outlining the folds of your pussy, the way your fingers hold your lips out of his way. shading carefully to make it obvious how soft he knew you'd be. his phone is buzzing again before he can move onto your thighs.

yn. (lab freak) | 00:59 ill wash it then bring it to u should i have it dry cleaned?

riki stares at the message for a second before laughing. you really do take everything so seriously. the hoodie had been hanging in his closet next to several others almost exactly like it three days ago. he had dropped it on your head without even thinking twice about it and if you had dropped it in a puddle he probably wouldn't have noticed until next week.

meanwhile here you were researching the specific care instructions for the garment.

riki nishimura | 01:02 why would u dry clean it yn. (lab freak) | 01:02 bc its THREE THOUSAND DOLLARS!? riki nishimura | 01:05 relax i got it so long ago its prob not even worth that much anymore yn. (lab freak) | 01:06 easy for u to say not all of us can spend rent money on sweaters like its nothing riki nishimura | 01:07 its a nice sweater??? yn. (lab freak) | 01:08 i genuinely hate talking to u

the grin stays on his face as his eyes drift toward his drawing of you staring back at him on his table. he's not sure when it happened, but conversations with you somehow have become more entertaining than drawing. which is saying something.

riki nishimura | 01:10 just keep it yn. (lab freak) | 01:11 no i can't. riki nishimura | 01:11 yes u can yn. (lab freak) | 01:13 why?

his mind drifts briefly to the memory that had him sat at his drawing desk in the first place. the reason why he wanted you to keep a hoodie that he wouldn't even let his friends breathe too hard near. it's the image of you walking the hallway, sleeves rolled up and the over sized fit. completely unaware how you looked to him, how it felt to have some sort of claim over you when all he could manage were these midnight drawings.

he liked seeing you wrapped up in something of his. it made the hundreds of drawings of you feel less pathetic, because at least when you were wearing his hoodie it was something real. tangible. there was no denying who it belonged to and he could easily convince himself that you liked the feeling of being wrapped up in him just as much as he liked seeing it. his thumbs hover over the keyboard, teeth tugging over his lower lip as he carefully types out each letter. he's locking his phone as soon as he's pressed send, walking away from it as if it'd detonate at any given moment.

the text comes through your phone immediately and you can't help the tug you feel in your chest. your eyes drift to the mirror perched at the side of the room, taking in the way his hoodie looks on your body, trying to see what you looked like in it to him. what could possibly be making him this persistent and the longer you looked, the scent of him tickling your nose with each turn of your head – his reasoning became extremely apparent. and it was much deeper than the words on your screen.

riki nishimura | 01:15 it looks good on u

the next few days felt different between the two of you. nothing had inherently changed, though. you still sat beside each other in class, still argued about assignments. still exchanged the same sarcastic remarks that had become second nature after months of being lab partners. if anything, the dynamic looked exactly the same from the outside. the problem was you and the fact that you couldn't stop noticing things now. rating everything on a yes/no scale, reading too deep into every one of your interactions, every text, every glance. it was slowly driving you insane.

because whatever research you had been doing on your relationship had shifted from just that, to you just watching him. noticing him. you first realize the shift during one of your study sessions in the library. you're halfway through reviewing practice questions, reading the questions out loud and assuming that the boy beside you was following along. when your gaze shifts to where he sits, you find riki with his sketchbook open over his textbook, pencil moving lazily across the page while he absentmindedly nodded his head to your words.

he looked like he was paying attention, taking notes even, but from a closer view you could see that was so far from the case. he was drawing, of course, and you don't miss the fact he always seemed so calm whenever he drew. you're able to peek over just enough before he's instinctively cupping his right arm around his book – the left not missing a beat. what you did see was pretty, a hand almost identical to his own holding up a shard of glass looking at the reflection. he was actively shading the eye in, but you could tell that it was meant to be him.

you spend longer than you're willing to admit watching his hands, the ease of every stroke, his confidence in every line making each one feel intentional. he switched his rings today, still silver but bulkier. a large cross rests on his middle finger, another one that looks like teeth on his thumb. there's simple bands stacked randomly on either hand and they glint with each twist of his wrists. it takes a moment for you to snap out of it, to realize that there was work that needed to be done and he was neglecting it right now.

“riki. are you even paying attention?” he nods without even looking at you, assuming that you're deep into the reading like you had been just a moment ago. he looks up when you're not saying anything else, brow raising at the annoyed expression on your features. he hadn't even truly done anything this time, but still his face is shifting into a pretty grin. “what chapter are we on?” he's asking with a tilt of his head, letting a soft laugh fall from his lips.

“you're such an idiot,” his laugh echos through the library and you hate how the sound effects you, ever since the facetime call where he was high, he's been laughing more freely around you. so much that you're able to decipher his different types of laughs and whether or not they were genuine.

the library sessions only became worse after that. most days studying no longer feeling as productive as it should. you spent more time rereading the same sentences or trying not to look at him than you did actually absorbing the information. even still, you met up. notes still spread across the tables, creating review packets only to half do them. you still met up consistently, still convinced yourself that the purpose of it was entirely academic. yet every other meeting seemed to end with less and less space between the two of you than when it first started.

there was one afternoon in particular that stuck in your mind for longer than you had intended. you had been reading through the review packet, testing him while he only half listened, his attention deep in his phone but he insisted that he was paying attention. one moment you were deep into your work and before you knew it your bare thigh rested lightly against his beneath the table. which shouldn't be that big of a deal, the two of you sat close together before – but this closeness had your heart hammering.

and every time he lifted his arm, his knuckles brushed your skin. every time he shifted closer to look at something on your screen, you felt his breath brushing against your shoulder and it made you painfully aware of how little distance separated you. and how being this close to him felt so natural that whenever he was deciding to give you some space, you were quick to close the gap once again.

riki never seemed to stop looking at you, either. his eyes shifting to your lips whenever you spoke to him and you don't miss the way they would linger. which wasn't out of the ordinary, but he was done pretending that he wasn't staring. tongue tracing his lower lip as he watches the way yours move. his fingers always seemed to ghost over your skin, whether it was your thighs, your shoulders, or your waist – it was like he was constantly fighting the urge to touch you.

he was testing your boundaries, seeing how much he could push before you were scoffing and pushing him off. but much to his surprise, you hardly ever were. no matter how much space he closed between you two, how close his fingers got to your skin, you were never backing down. in fact, it seemed like you were waiting expectantly for him to do something.

like actually. but the issue was he wasn't sure, so much of your relationship existed inside of his head he couldn't trust the way you sat too close or the subtle tone hidden within your words. he needed concrete proof before he was crossing any lines and he felt his chances were extremely low.

by the end of the week, even ordinary conversations felt different. one morning you spotted him across campus while you were walking toward the dining hall with jungwon. the two of you had been hanging out a lot more since you dominated trivia night, he was actually a lot of fun to be around. the both of you saw life the same and it was nice to talk to someone that you knew was on the same wave length as you. your books are tucked against jungwon's chest, his bag hanging off of his shoulder as you babble on about the physics lecture you just left. and then, without thinking you're lifting your hand to wave riki over.

he had been walking the other way, a hand shoved in his pocket while the other scrolled through the phone. but when his eyes are landing on you, he's changing direction instantly. he falls into step with you naturally as if he'd always been part of the conversation, hip bumping against yours at the three of you walk and you fill him in easily. at first it all seemed so normal and regular, until jungwon started explaining the upcoming project, soft launching his want to work together.

jungwon is in the middle of explaining his idea for it but you're only able to listen with half of your attention, way more focused on the way riki interjects, mostly to correct the older boy an arrogant smirk on his lips. it was like the poor guy couldn't get a sentence out without riki feeling the sudden urge to prove him wrong. to prove that he was the smartest one between you three. eventually jungwon is letting out a laugh, “dude what is your problem?” you notice the frown that immediately takes over riki's features.

“i don't have a problem,” he says but it's so obvious that he does.

jungwon isn't afraid to point it out either, “you've been arguing with everything i've said for the past ten minutes,” the accusation seemed to catch riki genuinely off guard, so annoyed by the idea of you pairing up with someone else he hadn't even realize that he was actually reacting to it. and for the first time since he walked up to you, he's falling silent with a lame shrug of his shoulders.

a few minutes later jungwon is handing you your books and waving goodbye, spotting some friends once you reach the dining hall and wanting to meet up with them instead. you wave reluctantly, watching as he turns to walk away and almost instantly riki is relaxing beside you. the tension vanished from his shoulders, his mood lifting and he was sparking conversation up with you as if he wasn't just being a dick.

at the time you didn't think too much of it. summed up his behavior with his ridiculous need to feel like he was smarter than everyone without having to try. but later that night when your mind was replaying the memory again and again, details stood out to you that hadn't before. the glare he'd send jungwon's way as he spoke, but the way his gaze would soften when he looked at you. how he seemed almost annoyed at the idea of you working together with someone that wasn't him and he looked almost ready to reject the offer before jungwon even had the chance to extend it.

he was acting extremely out of character for someone who claimed not to care about anything. even though you had waved him over, invited him into the conversation – riki still seemed strangely invested in who you spent your mornings talking to and about what. and sadly that wasn't the sort of observation you could easily forget.

unpopular opinion, you hated the weekend. they dragged for you, not really interested in partying or forced socialization. if you were doing anything it was most likely a sleepover at one of the girls' dorms where you'd binge episodes of vampire diaries. if not, you'd be holed up in your room, perfecting your essays and notes and waiting for monday to roll around again.

this weekend was different, though. clover was dragging you out of your room with the notion that you needed to photosynthesize. leaving your room had been a last minute decision, so you hadn't put much thought into what you were wearing. a short white skirt that stopped a few inches below you behind, a white tube top and riki's over sized hoodie.

choosing it had nothing to do with the fact that it still smelt like him or that it felt close enough to actually having his arms around you. those weren't deciding factors at all, it simply was the first one you could grab when you were rushing out. clover raises her brows when she sees you but doesn't say anything, it had already taken enough effort to get you outside on the weekend – she wasn't going to push her luck. the two of you make your way toward the student union for frozen yogurt, chatting happily as you bounce down the walkway arms linked together.

you're spotting him before he notices you. riki is sitting beneath a tree near the center of the courtyard, one knee drawn toward his chest, laptop resting against his lap as he types quickly – not sparing a second to look down as his fingers fly across the keyboard. students drift around him in scattered groups, but he's entirely unaware of anybody else's existence, completely locked in on whatever assignment he was trying to finish before the due date.

you break away from clover before you can even register why your body is moving, the sleeves of his hoodie falling over your hands as you cross the grass toward him. you had intended on just going over to say hi, see what he's working on before turning around to rejoin your friend. but his sketchbook catches your attention, immediately changing your plans. specifically, the fact that it's sitting unattended by his knee while he's distracted by homework.

terrible idea on his part actually. you don't even hesitate, stride picking up as you rush toward him and by the time he looks up, you've already snatched the book from the ground. wide eyes snap up at you, his laptop being ditched somewhere in the grass as he moves to stand, “yn.” he says carefully, holding his hand out like he's trying to tame you.

a sly grin spreads across your features before you're turning and running from him. the sound that leaves his lips is somewhere between a groan and a laugh. “are you fucking...” he's quick to begin chasing behind you and you're shocked to see how fast he is when you're glancing over your shoulder. “catch me!” you call, urging yourself to run faster ahead of him.

your mistake becomes apparent almost immediately. because riki was incredibly fast. much faster than you'd assume a person that couldn't give two shits about his lungs would be. you barely make it halfway across the courtyard before you hear footsteps thundering behind you. students turn their heads as you weave through them, careful not to ram into anyone. jake laughs from somewhere in the distance. you nearly knock over a freshman and just as you're turning into the garden, a hand catches your wrist.

his movements are swift, tugging your body toward him before easily backing you against the nearest tree. for a second neither of you moves, your hand clutched beneath his big palm and pinned above your head. the sketchbook is trapped awkwardly between your chest and his and you feel the way his hips shift to trap you in place. his eyes are narrowed, a mean expression on his face as he fights to catch his breath.

you can only imagine how you look to him, flushed cheeks and messy hair caught all in your lip gloss. your breath hitches as he shifts closer to you, half-hard cock grazing your thighs and your eyes go wide. riki's movements are slow, keeping a firm grip above your head as his free hand moves to cup the side of your face. he's gentle despite how irritated he looks, thumb reaching up to swipe the hair from your lips. “you done?” he asks, brows knitted in completely concentration as he watches the way your mouth moves under his thumb. unfortunately, irritation looked very good on him.

like embarrassingly good.

his thumb stays on your lip despite the fact he's already pushed all of your hair back in place, threatening to dip into your mouth. it's only then that you realize he had asked you a question. your eyes lift to look up at him, peeking at him through your lashes as your head bobs in a nod. “fine, you caught me.” your words come out muffled against his finger and his lips are stretching into the prettiest of smiles.

riki is taking another step forward, eliminating any remaining space between your bodies and pressing you firmly against the tree. you feel the rumble of his voice in your core as he speaks, “no shit,” he's saying with a laugh, grip loosening around your wrist to let your arm lamely fall at your side. he's holding his hand out in between you, brow raised and thumb still pressed to your lips.

“here,” you sigh, wiggling the book from between your bodies to hand it out to him. he takes the sketchbook immediately, tucking it beneath one arm quickly. but he doesn't move, his body remains pressed against yours, dark eyes dropping down the length of your body and for the first time he's taking in the fact that you're wearing his hoodie. his fingers glide down the length of your neck, catching the fabric of the hood before reaching lower to trace the design at the collarbones and you literally see the way his mind wanders.

his mind drifts to his countless drawings of you in this very sketchbook, his hoodie swallowing your frame while your hand reveals parts of your body to his greedy eyes. and the fact that you're standing in front of him now, wearing it has a violent heat pulsing through his veins. his jaw tightens and you watch the movement closely, the purse of his lips intriguing you. he looks especially handsome today, standing this close to him makes it very hard to ignore.

he's still breathing heavily, chest rising and falling beneath the thin black shirt and you make note to tease him about his failing lungs later. the shirt cuts off at his shoulders, arms on full display and you don't miss the way the muscles flex and jump with each movement of his hands; which are covered in his same silver rings, bracelets stacked on his wrists. a few strands of his sandy blond hair has fallen into his eyes, sticking up in every direction from having to chase after you.

you hate how standing this close forces you to notice things that you never have before, the tiny mole on his lash line, how obnoxiously high his cheekbones were, there's a pretty glow to his skin that gives away to the existence of his skincare routine, interrupted only by the light flush on his cheeks, the tip his ears an unmistakable red. you almost sum it up to the chase, until you're feeling his cock jump against your thigh.

your eyes snap up to his face, “riki...” you start but he doesn't hear you, he's too busy curling his fingers around the large zipper resting against your chest. his lip is caught between his teeth and his eyes are glued to his fingers as they slowly drag the zipper of his hoodie down. you're afraid he'd feel the pounding in your chest as his knuckles drag over it, just slightly brushing against the fabric of your shirt – right between your breasts. you're letting out a breathless sound that you don't really understand, but it has a smirk lifting the corners of his lips the dimple on his right cheek making an appearance.

“you're such a brat,” he's mumbling and you're only just now realizing how deep his voice truly is. it leaves you speechless, like literally you feel like your brain is fried. your lips part to speak but no words come out, all you can do is stare at him. and try desperately to ignore the heat that rises in your chest, the familiar throb between your legs as his hand reaches back up toward the collar of the hoodie. he's easily knocking it off of your shoulders before reaching over to do the same on the other side. the fabric pools at your elbows and he's easily sliding it off of you, tucking the garment beneath his arm with his sketchbook. “brats don't deserve expensive gifts,”

he's stepping back fully after that and despite the sun beating down on your bodies, you feel freezing. your arms fold over your chest immediately, a pout forming on your lips. “riki, i'll be cold.” he's letting out a short laugh, shoulders lifting in a lazy shrug, already taking steps backward to return to his spot under the tree before you had decided to bother him. “that's your punishment,” he says through a grin, amusement lacing his tone.

you're not sure how long you stand there watching his back after he turned to walk away, you just know it takes that long for you to regain your composure. your heart can't seem to stop pounding, blush flushing your cheeks and the back of your neck and an uncomfortable wetness between your legs. what the hell was that? when you had stolen his book, which you had no intention to go through really, you had assumed that he'd ignore you or get annoyed, demand for you to give it back.

not trap you against a tree where everyone could see and undress you. yes, he was just taking his hoodie back, but he still undressed you! “oh my god,” your hands lift to cover your cheeks, head shaking from side to side. after all the evaluating and analyzing, over analyzing. you couldn't believe you missed one possible factor. whether or not riki was in love with you aside, you forgot to account for the other potential aspect. the messier side of the hypothesis that required much more digging.

your feelings for riki.

[ i'm obsessed with these two lwk, what did you think? + if u asked to be tagged & aren't turn my notifs on! tumblr didn't let me tag a lot of u :/ ]

Some deeper parts within him would care to disagree, however, he had perfected this art of burying them six feet under layers of easy smiles. At twenty-three, Jake was the hot Physics student pursuing Masters with a killer arm (or leg in this case) on the football field. 

He had always been good at drowning out uneasiness with a bright grin, a well-timed joke that he somehow laughed at harder than the others, the easy way his hand would find the small of someone’s back as he guided them through a crowded party. It worked, it always worked.

Hardworking to a fault, he balanced brutal training sessions, demanding coursework, and still found time to be the social glue of every group he touched. Clumsy in the most endearing ways—tripping over his own feet during victory celebrations or spilling his coffee down his jersey—he’d just laugh it off, turning mishaps into stories. 

So, in a word, Jake Sim was considered to be carefree by any living creature that had the slightest pleasure of meeting him.

And to put it simply, he enjoyed it. He basked in the attention thrown his way, not in a way that would label him as arrogant, it just came to him as easy as, well, breathing. All that effortless energy around him kept him sane, coming from a loving family, to having friends he could call his second family, he truly cherished it to the core. 

Tonight the spring kickoff party in the quad thrummed under strings of warm fairy lights, the bass from the speakers mixing with the scent of grilled corn (to Jay’s absolute delight), spilled beer, and early cherry blossoms. Jake stood right at the center of it all, lean athletic build relaxed as he leaned against the brick pillar, red solo cup in hand, black hair falling in soft tousled waves. He ran his fingers through it absentmindedly while Heeseung gestured wildly mid-story, the group around him already cracking up at the enthusiasm of it all. 

“—and then she just looks at me after the game, all flushed and smiling, and says you looked really good out there tonight. Next thing I know we’re back at her place and I’m thinking, damn, maybe I should score more goals if this is the reward,” Heeseung said, smile wide as he took a swig from his cup.

Jay laughed at that, “you’re too fucking easy,” he mumbled, taking a bite of corn, pairing it up with vodka right after. 

Sunghoon leaned back against the pillar, smirking as he shook his head, “you two are hopeless, now let me tell you guys about what real pleasure is—”

“Spare us the details,” Jeno mumbled, a tad bit tipsy with the amount of booze he’d been consuming, Jaemin holding him up, but his mind was elsewhere, planning something rather crazy to wash out the usual mundane conversation. 

Jake’s laugh rolled out bright, head tilting back and shoulders shaking with genuine amusement, “you guys are practically whores,” he clicked his tongue, “but yeah—nothing beats that post-game high when someone’s waiting for you looking like that. Makes all the bruises worth it.” He bit his lower lip lightly, still grinning as he scanned the lively surroundings, eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. 

Across the grass, you stood with Jungwon and Karina near the low stone wall, Jungwon had dragged the two of you here earlier, insisting it would be lowkey fun because his Jay hyung had invited him and “it’s not like we have to stay forever.” The music played in the background, but your attention stayed on them—sharp little remarks about random campus drama, Karina’s latest story about a disastrous blind date, the usual easy flow that made the noise somewhat bearable. 

Jungwon glanced toward the center of the party, a small, reluctant smile tugging at his lips as he watched Jake’s group, “Jake’s in full golden-boy mode tonight. Look at him— Jay says he’s the same off the field, always cracking jokes even when everyone’s half-dead from practice.”

Karina nodded, swirling the last of her drink slowly, “It’s almost unfair how he does that, wish i could’ve been that extroverted honestly.”

You followed their gaze without meaning to. Jake was mid-laugh again, black hair falling messily into his eyes as he ran a hand through it. The light catching the sharp line of his jaw, the way his whole body seemed to lean into the moment. Everyone around him was leaning in too, feeding off that bright, effortless warmth. 

It made something tight and irritated coil low in your stomach. Not jealousy, no, just exhaustion at the performance of it all. The way the entire party seemed wired to orbit one guy who never seemed to run out of smiles or energy.

You shrugged, “he’s too loud. Must get exhausting pretending the world’s that fun all the time.”

Jungwon bumped your shoulder lightly, his laugh soft and familiar, “c’mon, he’s not that bad. Jay swears he’s actually decent when you get him one-on-one. But yeah, he looks a wee bit too jolly tonight.”

Karina smirked, eyes glinting with teasing as she glanced at you, “you’d probably shut him down in two seconds flat if he ever tried talking to you. I’d pay to see that.”

You pressed your lips together for half a second, the thought of Jake Sim turning that sunshine smile on you—of him thinking he could just waltz into your carefully guarded space—sent a flicker of pure distaste through you. You weren’t interested in being another notch, another story he told his friends the next day. 

Your life revolved around the quiet satisfaction of getting things right, majorly focusing on, well, studies. Romance, especially the loud, golden-boy kind, had no place in it.

“Exactly,” you said, tone edged with dry sarcasm, “not interested. Let’s grab something from the food trucks and dip before it gets worse. I’ve hit my limit on forced fun for one night.”

You didn’t mind being in the crowd as long as your friends were with you, however, you did mind the exhaustion creeping upon your body. No one but you were to be blamed for it. Going to the gym in the morning, catching up on lectures later, getting groceries, and now being at a party—you’d tired yourself out with the simple mindset of being busy is a blessing. It was true to some extent, albeit not in a way that your friends would agree. The conversation didn’t dull as you started making your way out to eat with your best friends. 

On the other side of the quad, Jake was only half-listening to the guys now, he felt himself getting comfortable in his smaller circle, it was exactly the kind of night Jake usually loved.

But his eyes kept drifting. 

It wasn’t as if it was his first time seeing you, especially when Jungwon was always around too, it was merely the fact that you kept your distance, always. Jake wasn’t blind, he appreciated beauty which you carried around effortlessly. The lack of general courtesy to acknowledge strangers? Not so much. 

You looked like you wished to be anywhere but here (which was true), making him wonder why. He ran his hand through his hair, messing the soft waves before smoothing them back down, a habit he barely noticed anymore.

Jaemin, who had been unusually quiet for the last minute, suddenly leaned in closer, voice dropping low enough that only their small circle could hear over the music, “wanna make things interesting?” 

Jay groaned, knowing his proposal would cause damage in the name of merriment, because that’s how Jaemin thrived. Sunghoon was rather interested in knowing what was gonna be the deal here, and so, he continued. 

“See her? Jungwon’s friend?” The group turned and looked your way, Jay already opening his mouth to stop him, but of course, Jaemin was quicker, “make her fall in love with you in a month.”

“Wait—me?” Jake echoed, the word half-laugh, half-disbelief, but the smile didn’t quite reach his eyes the way it usually did.

Jaemin leaned in closer. His grin was sharp, almost scary, “yeah, you, in one month. Make Jungwon’s friend fall for you, hard. Like, actually in love with you to the point it gets public.”

Jay’s head snapped up so fast the corn on his plate nearly toppled, “Jaemin, no. She’s not—fuck, she’s not gonna be interested, at all. I literally know her, she keeps everyone at arm’s length, especially guys like Jake, no offence.”

Sunghoon’s smirk didn’t falter, but his eyes narrowed, interested now in a way that made Jake’s stomach twist, “stakes?”

Jaemin didn’t hesitate, “If Jake wins—makes her say it out loud, in front of us—he gets the M4. Keys, papers, the whole matte-black beast. Mine for a month, and if he wants to keep it after that, it’s his. No take-backs.”

The circle went quiet for half a second before Heeseung let out a low whistle, cup frozen halfway to his mouth, “your car? The one you won’t even let me sit in without a fucking background check?”

“Yep.”

Jay dragged a hand down his face, shoulders tight, “Jake, this is messed up. You’ll hurt her, and then you’ll feel like shit, and she’ll hate you, and the whole group’s gonna be stuck in the middle because Jungwon’s her best friend. This isn’t a game, It’s gonna blow up in both your faces.”

Jake’s fingers found the back of his neck, then slid up into his hair without thinking. He messed them further, his eyes drifting across the quad again to where you were still walking away with Jungwon and Karina, posture straight, silver ring catching the light as you twisted it mindlessly. 

He should say no. He should clap Jaemin on the shoulder, laugh it off, steer the conversation back to the upcoming football match or the thermodynamics midterm that was currently trying to murder all of them. 

But something stubborn flickered in his chest. The same part that hated the idea of failing at the one thing he was supposedly best at, making people feel seen. You hadn’t even looked at him twice. 

One month, one girl who looked like she probably just needed someone nice to talk to and share her worries—right? 

Jake bit his lower lip for half a second, the way he did when he was locking in on a tricky play. Then the grin came back as bright and effortless, the one that always worked.

“Deal,” he said, not confident at all, though great at hiding it.

The group exploded, clearly not okay with the idea itself. Jay groaned louder, already shaking his head, “you’re both idiots. This is gonna end badly.”

Sunghoon just laughed under his breath, leaning back against the pillar, “I’ll take that bet too. Odds on Jake cracking first?”

Heeseung was already pulling out his phone, demanding proof in the form of media. Jaemin slapped Jake’s shoulder hard enough to make his red solo cup slosh over the rim.

“Day one starts tomorrow, Jakey. Better bring everything you’ve got.”

Jake laughed again, but when it settled, it left something quieter behind. Something that tasted a little (a lot) like doubt.

Later that night, when the place had emptied and the only sound left was the low hum of crickets, Jake lay on his back in his room. The mellow playlist he always played when the noise finally stopped drifted from his phone. His small notebook—the one no one ever saw—was open on his chest, a half-finished football formation doodled in the margin. He wrote one line.

She doesn’t like loud spaces, or crowds. 

He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and exhaled into the dark.

“What the fuck am I doing?” He whispered.

Across campus, you were already in your room, bullet journal open on your desk, silver ring still on your finger. You didn’t know about the bet yet. All you knew was that Jake Sim had never looked your way before last night, and something about the way his eyes had followed you across the grass fell off.

You pressed your lips together, biting the inside of your cheek once, then wrote in the tiniest handwriting in the margin of tomorrow’s schedule.

Keep your distance from Jake Sim.

CHAPTER TWO: Bet inverse?

Jake’s alarm went off at 6:47 in the morning like it always did, but this morning he didn’t bother hitting snooze. He stayed there for a few seconds, staring at the ceiling, the bet from last night practically sitting on his chest. Jaemin’s evil smile and Jay’s warning kept on repeating in his mind.

He should have let it go, instead, he rolled out of the bed, pulled on his black hoodie and shorts, laced up his running shoes after freshening up. He knew where Jungwon lived, the dorms near the science buildings where there was always an influx of food carts nearby. 

The distance wasn’t long per se, but his breathlessness certainly made it seem like it was, and the little hope he had to spot you in the cold of this morning.

The sky was soft gray before the sun decided to show up, and Jake’s lungs were burning in a way that made him feel good, hair sticking to his forehead by the time he slowed to jog near the coffee cart. 

To his absolute luck, he spotted you right there as you thought what you should order from the coffee cart, looking too proper in your jeans that fit you just right as if it wasn’t so early in the morning, and he took a moment to observe you, breathing hard, wiping his face on the sleeve of his hoodie. He stepped up beside you, the scent of your perfume overtaking his senses. 

His friends called him weird for this rather peculiar habit of his where he leaned in too much to get a sniff of, well, practically everything. So, it was hard fir him to control himself at the moment.

“Y/N,” he said, voice low so it wouldn’t startle you, “uh—hey.”

You turned, eyes meeting him before you granted him the smallest nod of acknowledgement, “Jake.”

The barista waited and Jake kept his hands in his hoodie pocket so he wouldn’t fidget, “one Americano for me, and whatever she’s having—I’ll cover it.”

You frowned at this because Jake truly had no reason to be talking to you here, much less paying for your drink, “you really don’t have to.”

“I know.” He offered a half-smile, the real one, “but I want to. We’ve been around each other enough—Jungwon’s parties, that study hall last semester. Felt kinda stupid that we’ve never actually talked.”

You studied him a second longer, like you were trying to decide if this was a line or just politeness. Then you told the barista your usual—vanilla latte, extra shot, and stepped aside while the machine hissed to life.

The silence between you wasn’t awkward exactly, Jake could feel the bet sitting heavy in his throat, but right now it was better—the way your perfume kept drifting over every time the breeze picked up. He wanted to lean in again, but he didn’t.

When both cups came out he handed yours over carefully, no fingers touching, just the warm cardboard passing from his palm to yours.

“Uh—thanks,” you said simply before you started walking.

He fell in beside you, matching your stride without crowding your personal space. The path was empty enough to give you both privacy which you didn’t need as his heartbeat felt a little too loud in his ears, and for the first time, he found himself being nervous to talk to someone. 

After half a minute you spoke again, “so how do you always act all nice for people you barely know?”

His lips curved, “I don’t do that, not really. Usually I’m the one everyone expects to keep things light,” he mumbled, “I saw you last night, you looked—bothered? Made me wonder what it’d be like to actually talk to you instead of just watching.”

You took a sip, wondering how he so casually admitted to staring at you, “and what’s the verdict so far?”

He glanced sideways, the early light was starting to hit the side of your face, “still figuring it out. But the coffee seems like a decent start.”

You didn’t smile, not really. But something in your expression eased, and it made him feel a little accomplished, as if he’d won something small and fragile that could disappear any moment.

The path split ahead, biotech building looming on the left. You slowed, turning to face him fully. For a second the guarded look cracked open, and he caught something underneath it—irritation, maybe, or the faintest flicker of curiosity you didn’t want to admit to.

“I’ve got lab,” you said. 

Jake nodded, the easy warmth still on his face even though his stomach twisted with how badly he wanted to ask one more question, “yeah, of course. See you around, Y/N.”

You gave one small nod then turned and walked toward the doors. He stood there until you disappeared inside, the taste of black coffee bitter on his tongue and the ghost of your perfume still clinging to the air around him. He breathed it in once, almost guilty, then let it go.

Back in his dorm he dropped onto the bed still in his hoodie, the room quiet. The small notebook he never let anyone see was already open on his lap. He stared at the blank page for a long moment, before writing: Vanilla latte with an extra shot, morning lectures in lab 291.

He closed the notebook, pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, and stayed like that until the pressure behind them eased.

Meanwhile, you were beyond confused narrating it to Karina later, who gave you a dry chuckle, “yeah, don’t entertain him,” she said, and you scoffed—as if you’d ever do that. 

But three days had passed since the party, and it was as if Jake had made it his personal mission to accidentally run into you whenever you least expected him to. Somehow, he had managed to get your schedule, which is why he was standing outside your lecture on the very next day. 

Jake was a poor actor and highly unaware of the same, so his exclaimed Oh, Y/N, felt rather comical to you, granted he had two coffees in his veiny hands. You chose to ignored him, face pulling into a natural smile for a second, and he stood there shocked, only to realize you were waving at Jungwon who stood behind him.

Jake stood there for a few minutes, not moving even when you had left while Heeseung and Sunghoon stood right there, judging him. Your smile—as brief as it was, had been pretty, too fucking pretty, and doubt crept up Jake. He wondered if he’ll ever be able to coax that smile out of you himself.

The thought followed him through the rest of the day, sharp enough to make him reroute his afternoon lecture so he happened to be near the vending machines right as you stepped out of lab. He was there again the morning after that, leaning against the wall outside the biotech building with a single vanilla latte in hand, the extra shot already marked on the side in the barista’s neat handwriting. Each time he appeared, he kept his voice low, never demanding more, though it felt like a blow to his ego how you actively tried to avoid him. He genuinely wished to talk to you (for the bet, of course).

By the third afternoon the rain had started, insistent against the library windows. You had slipped into the far back study nook, the one buried behind the tallest reference shelves, you needed it—needed to bury yourself in studies and forget how Jake’s persistence was beginning to thread through your days like a melody you couldn’t quite shake.

You pulled out your bullet journal and started annotating protocols for the upcoming lab, pen moving with sharp precision, and you felt a presence behind you. You were most ready to snap at Jake, but it was Jaemin who found you instead.

He dropped into the chair across from you, smirking, like he had been waiting for this exact moment, “Jake’s been hanging around you a lot lately,” he said, voice light but knowing, “you might fall for him.”

You set your pen down slowly, “what makes you think I’ll fall for him?”

Jaemin’s smirk deepened, “well, chances are less but certainly never zero.”

You frowned, irritation rising, “what do you want, Jaemin?”

“I was getting to it.” He leaned forward, eyes glinting, “I wanna propose another bet since I’m bored and I clearly care for you.”

“Another bet?” You asked, brain finally working. Jake was following you around for a fucking bet, you should’ve known. 

Jaemin watched your face change and his grin widened, “I give you thirty days to make him fall for you. And I mean truly head-over-heels kind of fall, then reject him, then you win, since you clearly don’t care about him.”

You stared at him, the words tasting bitter on your tongue, “I don’t want to be involved playing with feelings.”

“If he didn’t care for your feelings, why are you holding back?”

“Cause I’m not like him?” 

“Fair, but here’s the deal—” Jaemin leaned in closer, voice dropping.

“Isn’t he your friend?”

“Yeah.”

“So?”

“It’s fun.”

“You’re insane.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“What is he getting out of this?”

“My car.”

Another scoff left your mouth at this, and Jaemin said he’d give you anything you wanted if you’d win. Nothing was in your mind honestly, but you were too pissed to let it go.

“And what will I get?”

“A chance to absolutely shatter Jake’s ego, and that trip to Paris with your friends, you’ve been eyeing it for a while now.”

“How the fuck did you—”

“I have my ways,” he shrugged, but his eyes, oh his eyes were glimmering with joy. He almost seemed like a Cheshire cat. 

So you agreed. Jaemin only smiled, walking away from you now, leaving you rather disturbed. 

As if the universe itself had been listening, Jake walked past the end of the aisle at that exact moment, eyes scanning the shelves until they landed on you. You met his gaze head-on and gave him the smallest smile you owned, and he paused mid-step, lips parting like he might say something, then you looked away, not bothering with him anymore than you had today.

The game had just begun. And this time, you were the one holding the cards.

CHAPTER THREE: Ignorance isn’t bliss 

You ignored Jake. 

It was rather easy to do so despite all the plans you had brainstormed to make him fall in love with you hopelessly. The day had been too hectic, and to say you were exhausted would be an understatement—even the slightest voice would absolutely make you scream out in frustration given the state of your mind. Which is why you found yourself sitting in the bleachers, all silent and calm. 

Truth be told, you didn’t wish to get into this mess by any means, however, Jake wasn’t one to give up. You scoffed at how he’d trade any stranger’s feelings for a stupid car, and even then he’d be celebrated for winning a bet. 

Jake didn’t know why but the past few days had been weird for him. He couldn’t understand why you smiled at him in the library only to abruptly disappear from the face of the earth next—and yes, it bothered him because the time was ticking by. Maybe Jake was a lucky guy, cause right then, he found you at the bleachers, sitting up there as if trying to hide from the world. 

It was clear you didn’t wish to be disturbed, by Jake of all people, but his feet carried him before his mind could keep up, and that’s how he found himself sitting three seats away from you, prepping to show his absolute best flirt game, but the only thing that came out of his mouth was, “are you okay?”

“Why are you everywhere?” You exasperated, finally turning to look at him despite knowing he’d found you before. 

For once he didn’t jump in with some easy line. He just sat there a second, elbows on his knees, watching you like he was actually trying to read the mood instead of skating past it.

“I saw you from the path,” he said, “you were up here alone, I figured I’d check if you were okay. That’s it.”

You let out a sharp breath, the exhaustion from your day mixing with the frustration that had been building since Jaemin dropped his little bomb about the bet. This is all fake, you reminded yourself. He’s only here because he wants that stupid car, that bet. 

“Checking in, right. You’ve been turning up at the coffee cart, outside my lectures, the vending machines, now here. I’m not in the mood for whatever this is.”

He shifted one seat closer, jacket creaking a little, but still left space between you, “I’m not trying to push. I know it probably comes off like I’m in your face every day. It’s just—you always seem like you’re carrying a lot and you’re doing it alone. I guess I wanted to see if you were actually alright or if you were just pushing through.”

You turned to face him, eyes narrowing, “pushing through is what students do, Jake. I don’t need an audience for it.”

“Yeah, I see that,” he said, gulping as he stared at your side profile, “you’re pretty resilient about it. Most people would’ve already vented to someone by now—and maybe you did to your friends but yeah.”

“Resilient?” You let out a short laugh, “or just tired of everyone expecting me to perform. Unlike the quintessential golden boy who’s always got a smile ready.”

Jake winced, looked out at the empty field for a second, then back at you, “golden boy—ouch, fair though. That’s the label I got stuck with.”

You crossed your arms tighter, “so, why are you up here trying to talk to me instead of being there with your friends? It doesn’t add up.”

He rubbed his palm over his knee, “uh—with them it’s nonstop noise, like I love my friends but it’s all just football practice, jokes, keeping the energy up no matter what. With you—it doesn’t feel like I have to be that version of me.”

You scoffed, how cliché, “right. So now the guy who’s always the center of everything suddenly wants to sit in silence on the bleachers?”

Jake leaned forward a fraction, elbows on his knees, “there’s this whole dichotomy between what everyone sees and what’s actually going on inside. Talking to you, it’s not like that.”

“Not like that,” you repeated, the words coming out flat, “how convenient, Jake.”

He swallowed again, eyes flicking to your face as you said his name, “It’s not convenient, It’s just true. You don’t expect me to keep the vibe going, y’know? You just say what you think.”

You felt your chest tighten. He sounded so damn eloquent even when he was lying, “you’re really good at this, you know? Making it sound like you actually get it.”

“I’m not trying to be good at anything,” Jake said, voice dropping, “I just keep showing up because every time I do, I see more of the real you. Not the version you show everyone else.”

You let out a breath, he could definitely get a few points for acting, “okay, so listen then—my lab did suck today. Equipment kept failing, I’m behind on three lectures, and I came up here to be alone, that’s it. Nothing exciting.”

“Hey—i didn’t ask for exciting,” he said, staring at the way your fingers still twisted the ring, “my day was shit too—coach rode us hard about tomorrow’s game and I barely studied for my midterm. Sometimes I just want to sit somewhere and not pretend everything’s perfect.”

You stared at him, “so you picked me to sit with? Out of everyone on campus?”

“Yeah,” Jake said simply, meeting your eyes, “because you don’t expect anything from me. You call me on my shit. It’s nice, I guess.”

“Whatever, I’m fine keeping my distance and acting like you care won’t change that, okay?” 

“I do care,” Jake let out too quickly, surprised at his own words, “that’s the part you don’t believe, but it’s true.”

The conversation was getting too real, too fast, and the knowledge of the bet made every word feel like a trap, “It’s exhausting trying to figure out if any of this is real or if you’re just—”

Mid-sentence, just as your voice rose, Jake closed the gap by embracing you into a hug. His arms wrapping around you without hesitation, one hand settling at your back, the other across your shoulders. The dark jacket was soft against your cheek, still warm from the afternoon sun, carrying that clean, steady scent that was just him.

You practically froze as his heartbeat thudded against your ear—fast, as if the move had surprised him too. It was warm, really warm, making everything feel a little less heavy for a second. Even though you knew this was all part of the cursed bet, the gesture was still something, making your eyes sting. You couldn’t remember the last time someone had held you like they actually meant it.

Jake’s own breath caught as he held you. His pulse wouldn’t slow down, guilt and something else he couldn’t pinpoint made his heart seem heavier. For those few seconds he just held on, chin resting lightly against the top of your head, breathing you in like he could somehow make the whole stupid situation disappear.

It was awkward, because you in fact did not reciprocate the hug that well, proceeding to pull back with your cheeks burning. Jake’s hands stayed on your shoulders for half a second longer than they should have before he let go, looking just as thrown as you felt. He closed his eyes, biting on his bottom lip too hard, panicking cause for once, he didn’t know how to handle the situation. 

The anxiety only rose as you grabbed your bag, planning on getting up, however, his slender fingers wrapped around your wrist, “I’ve got a game tomorrow—It would mean a lot if you came, no pressure. You don’t have to stay the whole time or cheer or anything. Just come—if you want to for a break.”

You didn’t answer right away, watching him mutter it out all breathless, hair messy and cheeks seemingly red now. You barely caught on to his words, still processing the warmth, but a part of you did wish to reject him on the spot and walk away before the things got more complicated. 

Another part wondered what would happen if you actually showed up, since you did have your own bet to take care of. 

CHAPTER FOUR: Like a rom-com actor 

The next afternoon the stadium was already packed and buzzing when Jake stepped onto the field for warm-ups. He was supposed to be loosening up his legs, listening to the coach bark instructions, getting his head in the game. Instead his eyes kept flicking up to the stands every few seconds. The wind was blowing hard across the pitch, constantly shoving his black hair into his eyes no matter how many times he tried to push it back.

Jay jogged over and bumped his shoulder, “dude, earth to Jake? You’ve been staring up there like you’re waiting for the love of your life to appear. You good?”

Sunghoon, who was retying his cleats a few feet away, let out a low laugh, “he’s been doing it nonstop. Head snapping up every ten seconds. What’s got you so distracted today? You never get like this before a home game.”

Jake rubbed the back of his neck, forcing a casual laugh even though his stomach was doing flips,  “I’m fine, just looking for someone.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, exchanging a quick glance with Sunghoon, “someone? As in a specific someone who’s basically a bet? Damn, this must be serious if it’s got you this antsy within a week.”

Jake didn’t get the chance to answer, because he finally spotted you.

You were sitting a few rows up with Jungwon and Karina, the wind tugging at your hair the same way it was messing with his. The second your eyes met his across the field, Jake’s breath caught hard in his throat. His heart slammed against his ribs because—you actually came? For a second he forgot how to move, just standing there staring like an idiot while the wind kept pushing his hair everywhere.

You gave him a small smile and lifted your hand, waving at him softly.

Jake’s whole face lit up before he could stop it. Without thinking, he waved back enthusiastically, arm swinging high and wide as if he was trying to reach you from the middle of the pitch. His hair flew wildly in the wind as he did it, the motion so eager and over-the-top that Jay choked on his water and Sunghoon doubled over laughing so hard he had to grab onto Jay’s arm to stay upright.

“What the fuck—” Sunghoon wheezed, “you just waved like a little kid who spotted his mom after school. I’ve never seen you do that in my life.”

Jay was cracking up too, wiping water off his chin, “yeah he’s absolutely finished. Down horrendously bad and it’s not even been a few days.”

“Guess we know who’s gonna lose the bet,” added Hoon in a singsong voice. 

“He never stood a chance honestly.”

Meanwhile, around you, a bunch of girls in the stands noticed Jake’s dramatic wave and immediately started squealing, waving back excitedly and calling out his name like he’d waved at all of them. A few even stood up, cheering for him loudly.

You raised an eyebrow, watching the chaos unfold with a mix of amusement and slight disbelief, “damn,” you muttered, glancing at the crowd, “he sure is famous.”

“And a player,” added Jungwon. 

“And an asshole,” quipped Karina, arms crossed over her chest. 

You had told them, of course you did, and watching them get so enraged on behalf of you did make you feel tons better, which shouldn’t have been the case since they did threaten to chop Jake’s dick off, but hey, the way Karina said it was quite comical. 

Down on the field Jay spotted Jungwon in the stands and lifted his hand in a casual wave with a clueless grin on his face like nothing in the world was wrong. Jungwon just stared back with his jaw tight, not waving back as he was convinced Jay already knew about the bet and was somehow backing Jake up, and the thought made his expression go hard.

You nudged Jungwon’s side with your elbow, keeping your voice low, “c’mon, be normal, wave back or he’s gonna think something’s weird.”

Jungwon let out a reluctant huff, but he finally lifted his hand and gave a small, stiff wave. Jay’s grin widened like nothing had happened at all, and he turned back to the field, completely oblivious.

Karina groaned beside you, pulling her knees up to her chest against the wind, “I still can’t believe we’re freezing our asses off here when we could be on your couch watching Harry Potter for the nth time.”

You let out a small laugh despite everything, the sound almost swallowed by the growing roar of the crowd as the teams lined up, “you said you’d come for moral support.”

“Yeah, well, moral support is currently questioning every life choice that led me here,” she muttered, but there was a reluctant smile tugging at her lips anyway, “at least the view isn’t completely terrible.”

The whistle blew and the game kicked off in a whirlwind of motion. You tried to follow the ball, the quick passes, the way the players cut across the pitch, but your eyes kept drifting back to Jake. He moved with this radiant energy that pulled focus without even trying, hair whipping in the wind, legs eating up the grass, every sprint full of that effortless, captivating drive. The crowd’s cheers rose and fell in effervescent waves, but you didn’t feel any better, still suffering with that familiar push-pull of suspicion and something warmer you really didn’t wish to name.

The first half was all back-and-forth tension, both teams trading chances without anyone breaking through. Jungwon kept up a quiet running commentary under his breath, trying to keep things light, while Karina complained about the cold seeping through her jacket and how much better butterbeer would taste than the lukewarm soda they were selling. You nodded along, but your attention stayed glued to Jake, much to your friends’ dismay. Every time he glanced toward the stands, even mid-run, your chest did this annoying little flip, which pissed you off. 

Then the second half heated up. The score stayed locked until the final minutes, the air thick with anticipation. Jake got the ball near the edge of the box, dodged one defender, then another as he cut inside. The crowd held its breath as he struck it clean, a powerful curving shot that sailed straight into the top corner, past the keeper’s desperate reach.

The stadium lit up into celebration but Jake didn’t celebrate with the team right away. He turned straight toward the stands, eyes scanning until they found you. Then he pointed, right at you, his whole face breaking into this bright, almost whimsical smile as he jogged backward, arm still extended like he was making sure the entire world knew exactly who that goal was for. His jersey had ridden up in the sprint, revealing the sharp, glistening lines of his abs under the stadium lights, every defined ridge catching the late afternoon sun for a fleeting second before the fabric fell back down.

Your heart raced, oh that traitorous little thing, thudding hard enough that you could feel it in your throat. Heat rushed to your cheeks even as the knowledge of the bet sat heavy in your stomach, whispering that none of this was real. Still, for that split second, with the roar of the crowd and his hair messy in the wind and that radiant look aimed straight at you, it felt too much. Too real perhaps? Too dangerous regardless. The enigmatic pull of him was getting harder to ignore, and you hated how easily your body responded anyway.

Karina snorted beside you, rolling her eyes so hard it was almost theatrical, “oh my god, could he be any more performative? Pointing like he’s the hero in some cheesy romance movie, puh-lease.”

Jungwon chuckled quietly, but his eyes flicked to you with that same protective glint from earlier. You didn’t say anything, just stared down at the field as Jake got swarmed by his teammates, the final whistle blowing and the win sinking in. The crowd was still cheering wildly, but all you could feel was the lingering echo of that pointed finger and the confusing satiation it left within your chest.

Jungwon turned to you, voice low so only you could hear, “so, you’re actually going through with the plan?”

You let out a long sigh, shoulders dropping as you pushed yourself up from the bleacher. The metal was cold under your palms, “yeah, I kinda have to now. It’s the only way to beat him at his own game.” 

Karina stood too, brushing off her jeans with a dramatic huff, “let’s get out of here before I turn into an icicle, you better make him drop down on his knees, babe.”

You nodded, hugging them both, but instead of heading toward the exit, your feet carried you toward the locker room area. You hated this part already, leaning against the brick wall, arms wrapped around yourself against the biting wind, you waited, every second dragging like you were standing there on purpose just to prove a point to yourself.

The door eventually did swing open and you watched Jake stepping out, hair still damp from the shower and curling softly at the ends, a fresh black hoodie hanging loose over his frame. He was laughing at something one of the guys said behind him when his eyes landed on you, causing him to stop mid-step.

For a second he just stared, surprise flickering across his face before it melted into this softer, brighter, almost disbelieving expression. His lips parted, and then he broke into the biggest, most genuine smile you had seen on him yet. It was radiant, boyish in how uncontained it was, his eyes lighting up like you were the best part of his entire day, and it made your throat go dry.

“Hey—you’re still here,” he said, voice warm and a little breathless as he walked straight over to you. 

You pushed off the wall, trying to keep your expression casual even as your heart picked up speed, “you played really well out there. That last goal was incredible, it was the first time I experienced the whole stadium going crazy,” you said, completely ignoring the part where he dedicated that goal to you.

Jake’s smile grew even wider, the kind that made the corners of his eyes crinkle. He ran a hand through his damp hair, still looking at you like he couldn’t quite believe you were standing there, “you really stayed for the whole thing. God, that means a lot. I kept looking up into the stands and there you were. I—it motivated me, I can’t even explain it.”

He looked so happy, so openly thrilled, his eyes bright and captivating under the fading stadium lights. The way he was looking at you, like your presence genuinely made his day, made something dangerous flutter in your chest despite the reality of it all. You stepped a little closer, heart hammering, and did what you had to do.

You rose onto your toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, letting it linger for a second, “Uhm—I’ll see you around,” you murmured against his skin, starting to pull back.

But Jake’s hand gently caught your wrist, stopping you. His touch was light, almost careful, like he was afraid you’d vanish if he held on too tight, since this did seem like a dream to him. Behind him, Heeseung had paused in the doorway, watching the whole exchange with an amused little smirk he wasn’t even trying to hide.

“Wait,” Jake said softly, still processing the kiss, his thumb brushing once over your skin, “you’re leaving already?”

You swallowed, “yeah. I have an assignment I need to finish tonight.”

He nodded, but didn’t let go right away, “right, of course.” Then, a little shyly, he added, “there’s a party at the house tonight—but if that doesn’t work, we’re having a smaller one at the dorm in a few days. Just the guys and whoever shows up. You should come, I promise I’ll make it worthwhile for you.”

You hesitated, the warmth of his fingers and the hope in his eyes making it harder than it should have been, “I’m not really a party person, Jake.”

“I know,” he said quickly, voice gentle, “that’s why I’m telling you it’ll be chill. No pressure at all, just come hang out for a bit. I’ll even make sure there’s something better than cheap beer. Please?”

The way he looked at you, so earnest and a little nervous, made you feel guilty just a smidge. You could feel Heeseung’s amused gaze on the both of you, but you kept your focus on Jake.

“I’ll think about it,” you said finally, offering a small smile.

Jake’s eyes lit up like you’d already said yes. “That’s all I’m asking for.”

You gave him one last nod before gently pulling your wrist back and turning to leave, but Jake’s hand caught your wrist again, gentle in his action, like he couldn’t let the moment slip away just yet. He gave a light tug, drawing you back toward him until your back pressed against his chest. For a heartbeat you felt the solid warmth of him behind you, the faint dampness of his hoodie, the steady rhythm of his breathing. Then he leaned down, one arm slipping loosely around your waist as he pressed a kiss to your cheek.

His lips were plump and soft, warm from the shower, staying there for a second longer than necessary. The touch was rather unhurried, sending a quiet shiver through you that had absolutely nothing to do with the wind.

“Jake—”

When he pulled back, he bit his lower lip, eyes bright and a little shy as they met yours, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, voice hopeful, like the words were a promise he was already holding onto.

You managed a small nod, heart still stumbling over itself, and finally stepped away. The spot on your cheek stayed warm long after you turned the corner, and you wondered how this game was gonna end. 

CHAPTER FIVE: Soaked and blue balled. 

She gets cold so fast, shoulders hunch up the second wind hits.

She keeps twisting the rings on her index and ring finger.

She has a faint dimple on her right cheek.

She fits perfectly in my ar—

Now, Jake had not the faintest clue where he was going with this, yet he kept on writing under the pretence of keeping all the minute observations in a precise manner for his advantage. He stared at the page for another moment, then shut the notebook and tossed it onto his desk. 

The ever so unforeseeable rain had started hammering against his window, and he watched one single raindrop cascading down the surface before he sat right up, grabbing an umbrella to head out without any destination in his mind. Well, he did have to bring Jay back from Jungwon’s dorm (who was facing this taxing challenge of acting normal around his hyung). It didn’t go beyond that really.

He wasn’t used to this silence and peace, he never really went out in the rain, calling it the perfect time to just play games with his friends. However, it was truly hard to pinpoint what made him rush out like this, only coming back to reality once he reached the lecture hall area. He was about to keep walking when he saw you pushing through the doors with Haechan beside you. Jake knew him, he was Jeno’s friend and also one of the dude who fucked around a lot.

Jake wasn’t any better by any means, but he hadn’t even thought of such a thing in the past eleven days. He simply stopped, watching how your umbrella showed no signs of cooperating in this windy weather, and your shoulders were starting to hunch in the same way Jake had noticed during his half time game yesterday. 

He jogged to you, dismissing any other thought, especially the one that sounded a lot like Jay’s voice laughing at him for being too involved, “hey—wait up!”

You turned around, rain evident on your lashes already, and in that fleeting second, your mind was quick to admit his beauty under the dimness of the evening. 

He lifted his umbrella higher, covering you completely as you lowered yours, the wide canopy shutting out the worst of the storm and pulling the two of you into a small, private bubble.

“Jay’s over at your dorm with Jungwon right now,” he said, a little out of breath, water dripping from the ends of his hair. “He needed some notes or something. I was heading there anyway to pick him up. Come on, my umbrella’s bigger.”

You glanced at your own umbrella, which was flapping uselessly, “I have one.”

“Yeah, but it’s not doing you much good,” Jake replied, stepping closer so the shelter stayed perfectly over you. His shoulder brushed yours as you started walking, “seriously—you’ll be soaked before you even get halfway. Let me walk you.”

Haechan gave you a quick, amused look and muttered something about seeing you in lab tomorrow before disappearing down another path with a wave, making you roll your eyes as he made missy faces, which Jake noticed.

The two of you fell into step under the umbrella. Jake kept it tilted toward you even when it meant his own left side kept getting wet. The closeness was apparent, his arm warm against yours, the faint clean scent of his shampoo mixing with the wet earth and rain. Every time you stepped around a puddle, his sleeve brushed your wrist, sending a small spark up your arm.

For a minute the only sound was the rain. Then Jake spoke, voice low and a little playful, “you know, I was halfway convinced you’d avoid me today after yesterday.”

You let out a small breath of laughter, “I thought about it, then I remembered I don’t own a boat and the campus flooded.”

He grinned, glancing down at you. The way the rain made your lashes look darker, the little droplets clinging to your skin, made his stomach flip, “lucky for me then. I would’ve been stuck walking alone, getting soaked, feeling so sorry for myself.”

“You’re still getting soaked,” you pointed out, noticing how his left shoulder was dark with water. Without thinking you shifted a little closer under the umbrella, your arm pressing more firmly against his.

Jake bit down his smile, “worth it. Besides, you’re warm and It’s nice.” His voice dropped a fraction, “are you always freezing or is it just me that brings the chill?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips curved despite yourself, “It’s the rain, genius. Though you do have a habit of making normal things seem complicated.”

“Complicated in a good way, I hope,” he said, the words light but his eyes searching yours for a second longer than necessary. His free hand brushed yours again as you both avoided another puddle, and this time his fingers lingered for half a second before he managed to pull himself back.

The rain kept falling, steady and heavy, but under the umbrella everything felt smaller, rather warmer, you noticed how steady his breathing was, how the warmth of him seemed to chase away the chill seeping into your bones. He bit the inside of his cheek because in that moment, he wasn’t really acting, the wanton ease you provided him with was too real.

“You’re weird,” you muttered, clearly not meaning any bit of it, and he knew the implication behind it, or maybe it was his maladaptive daydreaming.

The dorm building appeared through the silver curtain of rain. Jake slowed deliberately, drawing the last few steps out as if the walk could stretch forever. When you reached the small covered overhang by the entrance, he lowered the umbrella but didn’t step away. Instead he moved in closer, guiding you gently until your back met the cool brick wall. The overhang sheltered you both from the downpour, but the world narrowed to the narrow space between your bodies and the solid wall behind you.

He was close now, so close you could see the tiny freckles across his cheek, the way his damp hair curled softly at the temples yet again, the faint flush across the bridge of his nose from the cold. His gaze moved over your face with quiet hunger, taking in every detail—the way rain glistened on your skin, the soft flush on your cheeks, the faint dimple that appeared when your lips parted slightly. You looked so pretty like this, natural and glowing in the dim light, and the sight made his throat tighten.

You raised your eyebrow, heart hammering against your ribs, “Jake?”

He only smiled, slow and unsteady, biting down on his bottom lip as he leaned in closer, closer, until the space between you was almost gone. His eyes dropped to your mouth, dark and wanting, then lifted again to meet yours. In that suspended second neither of you were thinking about the bet, about the car, about the game you were both playing. There was only the rain, the warmth of his breath against your skin, and the dizzying pull that made everything else disappear.

Right then the dorm door swung open with a loud metallic scrape.

Jay stepped out, nearly walking straight into the moment. He stopped short, eyes widening as he took in how close you and Jake were standing against the wall.

“Whoa, Y/N?” Jay said, a smirk already spreading across his face, “am I interrupting something?”

Your eyes widened in realization and you slipped sideways, ducking under Jake’s arm without a word. You pushed through the door and disappeared inside, cheeks burning, the echo of the almost-kiss still buzzing hot in your mind.

Jake stayed frozen, then groaned hard. He turned and leaned back against the same brick wall, eyes falling shut as the rain continued to fall around him, umbrella now lowered. His heart was still racing, loud and unsteady, the ghost of your warmth lingering against his chest. 

He let out a slow breath, jaw tight. I’m going to kill Jay.

CHAPTER SIX: Jaemin the instigator. 

Jake had only read a few books in his life, only one of which had a plot that truly stuck with him as someone who was never an avid enjoyer of reading literature. There was a line that kept replaying in his mind lately, more often than he cared to admit.

As soon as I saw you, I knew an adventure was going to happen.

Funny enough, it was from Winnie the pooh. 

It isn’t a romantic line, not even remotely, but he manages to fit it into his narrative perfectly, especially during the quiet. Mind drifting back to when the rain had been dripping from the eaves and your back had been against the brick and he’d leaned in close enough to feel the warmth of your breath. The bet had started as a stupid game. Now it felt like the kind of quiet adventure he hadn’t seen coming.

Unfortunately, the distraction followed him to the practice field. 

During a simple change-of-direction drill, his mind slipped again. The ball came low across the turf and Jake planted his left foot to cut inside, making his ankle roll with an ugly twist. It wasnt anything dramatic, just a sharp flare of pain that shot up his calf and dropped him to one knee, breath hissing between his teeth.

Jay reached him first, crouching down fast, “shit, Jake, what the hell? You good?”

Heeseung slowed beside them, still breathing hard, “dude, you’ve been completely zoned out all week, like—really zoned out. This bet is fucking with your head too much, just call it off, man. For real.”

Sunghoon hung back a step, arms crossed, watching quietly, “coach is gonna notice, y’know? It’s not worth it.”

Jake sat back on the grass, testing the ankle with a careful flex, the place already swelling under the sock. Minor, probably, but it hurt enough to make his eyes sting for a second,“It’s fine,” he muttered, forcing the usual half-smile, “just a tweak—I’m good.”

From the edge of the drill Jaemin let out a soft, pleased laugh, “or this is actually perfect timing. Wounded-puppy Jake? She’s gonna eat it up.” He clapped Jake on the back once, “I’ll handle it. You just stay looking all soft and grateful.”

Jay shot him a sharp look, “Jaemin, I swear to God—”

But Jaemin was already jogging off to find you. 

You were stepping out of your last lecture when Jaemin fell into step beside you, which was kind of scary. 

“Jake’s in the medical room,” Jaemin said casually, making your eyes go wide at the sudden voice, “twisted his ankle pretty bad at practice. Trainer’s got him taped up with ice, might even sit out the next game if it swells.”

A flicker of worry did pass through your head, but then you shrugged, “hm, kinda sounds minor.”

Jaemin’s smirk was small, “c’mon, this is perfect for the bet. He’s all vulnerable right now, best time for you to go and play nurse, make him fall a little harder. You’re already halfway there anyway.” He bumped your shoulder lightly. 

You sighed, the worry sitting heavier than you wanted to admit. Pretty bad, he’d said, “fine—I’ll check on him.”

Jaemin grinned, satisfied, “atta girl.” He peeled off toward the dorms.

You told yourself you weren’t going to bring anything. But the cafeteria line was short, and the smell of warm rice and simple broth pulled you in anyway. You ended up with a container of congee, a cold can of the original red bull, and two slightly squished steamed buns. Your hands stayed steady, but your pulse? Yeah, it didn’t.

The medical room door was halfway open. You knocked once with your elbow and stepped inside.

Jake was on the padded table, left leg propped up, ice pack soggy at the edges. His practice jersey hung open, undershirt damp against his chest, dark curls still messy and sticking to his temples. He looked tired—shoulders a little slumped, the usual bright energy dialed way down. For a second you just stood there in the doorway, and Jake’s eyes lifted to meet yours.

He gulped at the sight of you, the way a few strands of hair had slipped loose after class, the small crease between your brows that you probably didn’t even realize was there. You looked pretty like this.

Jay and Heeseung were hovering nearby. The second they saw you with the bag, they exchanged a quick glance.

Jay cleared his throat, lips twitching, “well, look who showed up.”

Heeseung pushed off the wall with a low chuckle, “we were just leaving anyway. Coach wants us back on the field.” He gave Jake’s shoulder a gentle clap. “Don’t be an idiot, yeah?” The two of them slipped out, the door clicking shut behind them and leaving the room suddenly quieter. 

Jake cleared his throat, bottom lip bitten as he observed you walking closer, “I—you didn’t have to come,” he mumbled, flustered all of a sudden. 

“You’re really being shy at me visiting you? Aren’t you the flirt of the campus?” You chuckled, “but yeah, heard you fucked up your ankle pretty bad, figured you’d be hungry.” 

His ears flushed red, “yeah, well—I wasn’t expecting anyone here, least of all you showing up here with food,” he shifted on the padded table, wincing a little, “thanks, genuinely. I was mentally preparing myself to order takeout today.”

You set the bag on the counter, pulling out the container and a spoon, handing them over. Your fingers brushed his, absorbing the warmth of his skin, and he took the food with a grateful smile. 

He peeled the lid back and took the first bite. His eyes fluttered shut for half a second. “God, this is actually really good,” he murmured, “way better than anything I would’ve scavenged later.” He ate quietly after that, the spoon scraping softly against the plastic, but every few bites his gaze lifted to you. 

You dragged the plastic stool closer and sat down beside the table, elbow resting on the edge near his good leg, watching the way his throat moved when he swallowed, the small crease between his brows when he shifted his ankle, the way his damp hair fell across his forehead. He looked softer like this, stripped of the usual energy—which you had grown accustomed to.

“Does it hurt too much?” You asked.

Jake shrugged one shoulder, “throbs like a bitch when I put any weight on it. Nurse said it’s just a swelling, I’ll survive.” He took another bite, then glanced at you again, heart warm at the sight of you going out of your way to be here—even though it stemmed from Jaem’s instigations. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. I know you had a full day.”

“It wasn’t that far out of the way,” you lied, because admitting you’d gone to the cafeteria on purpose felt too revealing, “besides, someone had to make sure you didn’t try to be a hero and walk on it.”

He let out a low chuckle, “guilty, I probably would’ve.” He set the container down for a moment, fingers brushing the edge of the table near your arm. The contact was light, accidental, but it stayed there a second too long, “you’re really something else, you know that?”

You felt the heat creep up your neck but didn’t pull away, instead, you leaned in a little closer, resting your chin on your folded arms on the edge of the table, “eat the rest before it gets cold, idiot. I’m not carrying you anywhere.”

Jake grinned, small and crooked, but his eyes stayed soft on your face. He kept eating, slower now, like he was dragging the moment out. Your eyelids grew heavy. The day pressed down on you all at once—the lectures, the walking, the quiet ache of pretending this was still just part of the game. You let your head rest fully on your arms, cheek against the cool edge of the table, close enough that your breath stirred the fabric of his shirt. Just for a minute, you told yourself.

You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but the warmth of the room, the steady sound of his breathing, the faint scent of ginger and him all mixed together, and your eyes slipped shut completely.

Jake went completely still.

He set the spoon down without a sound and lowered himself back onto the table until he was lying flat, turning his head so he could look at you properly. You were right there—head pillowed on your arms on the edge of the table, breathing slow and even, lashes dark against your skin, lips slightly parted. A strand of hair had fallen across your face. He reached out without thinking, fingertips barely grazing it before he caught himself and pulled back.

Would it make any sense for Jake to feel this unexpected emotion he still couldn’t quite pinpoint? Maybe his friends were right, he didn’t really need to follow through with whatever the bet was about. It really wasn’t worth hurting you, or himself—but then, did you even think of him as someone close to you? Perhaps as a friend at least? 

He let out a slow, shaky breath, and resorted to watching you—the way your shoulder rose and fell, the way your fingers formed a cute fist, how you let your guard down enough for your body to trust itself to fall asleep right next to him. Perhaps it was something small, yet to him, it was grand. 

So, he just lay there, inches away from you, letting the silence settle as his mind spun in circles he couldn’t stop.

CHAPTER SEVEN: Holy stalker

“So, you spent hours sleeping with him?” 

“You’re literally wording it wrong Jungwon.”

“And you almost kissed right outside the dorm—”

“Can you guys stop?” You groaned, but Karina was far from done, she was just getting started actually.

“—you can’t fucking lie to us, like genuinely you were smiling when you came in yesterday and today. What’s next? Fucking him at a party?”

“Oh god—nothing is happening, what is wrong with you both?” You stand up from the couch, turning to stare at both your friends, who sat rather comfortably with their arms crossed.

“This is not nothing, I’m just asking you, what’s the end point? Where would you draw the line, hm? If it requires physicality for him to actually fall in love with you, would you do it?”

Well, Karina did have a point. 

“We’re grown adults with active sex life so, why would that change anything?” You finish, almost defensive. 

Karina’s eyebrows shot up so fast it was almost comical. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, that wicked grin spreading slow across her face, “oh my god, listen to you. Active sex life, babe, you haven’t had dick in months and now you’re out here acting like it’s no big deal if Jake Sim rails you for the sake of the bet? Be so fucking for real right now.”

Jungwon nearly spit out his coffee, “Rina—”

“No, no, let me speak,” Karina cut him off, waving a hand without breaking eye contact with you, “I’m not judging, I’m just saying—if he’s already got you smiling like an idiot and almost-kissing you against a wall in the rain, what’s stopping you from seeing how far it goes? You gonna let him fuck you on the kitchen counter just to watch his ego implode when you ghost him after? Because honestly? I’d pay to see that. But don’t lie to yourself and say it’s all strategy when you’re feeling that way for him.”

You felt your face burn hot, “It’s not like that. I’m not—god, I’m not planning on sleeping with him, okay? I’m still in control.”

Karina barked out a laugh, “look, I love you, but if you’re gonna play this game, at least own it, and you’re allowed to enjoy the ride before you drop him and collect our Paris trip. Just don’t catch feelings and cry to us when the car means more to him than you do.”

Jungwon rubbed the back of his neck, looking equal parts amused and concerned, “she’s got a point, even if she’s saying it like a psycho. Just be careful, I still don’t trust him around you, but you’re always welcome to cry to us.”

You threw a pillow at Karina’s head. It bounced off her shoulder and she just cackled harder, “you two are the worst. Go to class before I actually kick you out.”

They finally dragged themselves up—Jungwon pulling you into a quick, tight hug and muttering, “text me if it gets weird,” before heading out, Karina pausing in the doorway to shoot you one last teasing smirk, “If you do end up letting him hit, at least make him beg first. Love you, bitch.” The door clicked shut behind them, leaving the dorm suddenly, blissfully quiet.

You let out a long breath and flopped back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling. Your lab had been cancelled last minute—the TA had blown up the group chat at 8:47 with some excuse about electrophoresis set up not working—and now the whole morning stretched out empty in front of you. 

Too much time to think about yesterday, or the day before that, or—

Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, thankfully breaking the train of your thoughts. You grabbed it lazily, expecting another spam message from the group chat. Instead it was an Instagram DM.

jake.sim: hey

didn’t have your number so i figured i’d slide in here like a normal person instead of showing up at your door like a creep 

Your lip twitched, just a smidge, because of course Jake would find your instagram and text out of nowhere. 

you: hi and you still managed to sound like a creep anyway

The three dots popped up instantly, like he’d been waiting with his phone in his hand.

jake.sim: fair actually  listen, random question is your oven working? mine’s been dead for two days and i’m craving something sweet

You stared at the screen, thumb hovering. Of course he had friends with working ovens. Half the football house probably had better kitchens than you did. But he was asking you, specifically.

you: yeah it works why

jake.sim: can i come bake a cake at your place? i’ll bring everything just wanna spend time with you, if that’s cool

Your stomach did a stupid little flip, and you groaned. What have you even come to?

you: sure door’s unlocked if you’re fast enough

Twenty minutes later there was a soft knock. You opened it to find Jake standing there in his black hoodie and grey sweats, hair still a little damp from a shower, maybe. Arms full of grocery bags, and he looked unfairly good, but when he shifted the bags higher on his arm you caught the tiniest wince in his leg. He hid it fast with that easy grin.

“Hey,” he breathed out, staring at just how comfortable you looked in shorts, “thanks for letting me invade, i come bearing burgers to show my gratitude.”

You leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, trying to ignore the way his eyes dragged down your bare legs for half a second before snapping back up, “didn’t you say you wanted a cake?” You raised your eyebrow. 

His grin turned a little sheepish, “cake’s the whole point, yes. Burgers are just—extra, i saw you eating this with Jungwon two days back so—”

“So you are a stalker—”

“Just observant,” he finished quickly, stepping inside as you moved out of the way. The door clicked shut behind him and he realized that your flatmates were not home, leaving the place to you and him, “not in a creepy way though.”

You just nodded, as if humouring him, eyes fixed on his hands—which were veiny as hell somehow—unpacking the stuff including flour, sugar, eggs, and well, every ingredient needed for a good cake, before giving you a burger (he got two extras, just in case).

Hopping on the edge of the counter, you unwrapped the burger as he took all the bowls out with you pointing around the cabinets. The room itself was silent but his eyes? Pretty shameless, you’d admit, because his focus was more on your ridden shorts than the flour.

Jake caught himself after a second, lips twitching like he knew exactly what he was doing, “you really gonna sit there and not help me?”

You took a bite of the burger, chewing slowly while holding his gaze, “you’re the one who begged to come over and use my oven. Eyes on the bowl, Jake.”

He laughed under his breath, and went back to the flour, but the glance he stole at your legs was anything but subtle, “easier said than done when you’re sitting right there looking like that,” he mumbled to himself as he started scooping ingredients, movements smooth despite the way he kept most of his weight on his left leg, “pass me the sugar?”

You did so without getting down. He reached past you anyway, arm brushing the side of your thigh, and didn’t pull back right away. When you finally slid off the counter to actually help, he didn’t give you much space, he handed you the whisk and stepped right behind you, chest brushing your back as he reached around to adjust your grip on the handle.

“Easy circles,” he murmured, voice dropping close to your ear, “you can be gentle with it, y’know?”

Be gentle with me—is what he wished to say, but he’d be lying if he didn’t admit how much he enjoyed your grumpiness as well, and he was almost eager to find what more you had to offer. 

His hand stayed over yours, so warm and steady, the other settled lightly on your waist, thumb slipping under the hem of your tank top to brush bare skin. You could feel every small shift of his body against yours, the clean scent of his hoodie mixing with the butter and vanilla already in the air.

“You’re crowding me,” you said, dry but not moving away.

“Am I?” His thumb traced one slow line along your hip, “didn’t hear you telling me to back up.”

You elbowed him lightly, feeling lightheaded, because it was odd how he actually achieved to bring out your playful side in what? Fourteen days since his bet started. But it wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be, “focus on the cake, not my legs.”

He leaned in, “trying and failing pretty badly.” His thumb traced one slow circle on your hip, right where your tank top had ridden up, and your pulse jumped harder. The touch was light, but it felt deliberate, like he was testing how long you’d let him stay this close.

The banter stayed easy after that, but every word felt—crazy. He teased you about not knowing how to bake (you actually didn’t). You told him he was being annoyingly precise for a guy who claimed he just wanted to hang out. Finally the batter came together, perfectly thick, smooth, and chocolatey. You scraped it into the pan he’d already greased, and Jake slid it into the oven without a word. He set the timer, then turned to you, leaning against the counter with that crooked grin.

“Twenty-five minutes,” he said, eyes flicking over you again, “think we can behave ourselves till then?”

You raised an eyebrow, still catching your breath from how close he’d been, “you’re the one who can’t keep his hands to himself.”

Before he could answer, you flicked a leftover pinch of cocoa at his cheek—light, almost absentminded, but enough to leave a small dark smudge, shocking yourself at the easiness of it all. 

Jake blinked, then his grin turned wild, “oh, it’s like that?”

He scooped a small handful of leftover flour from the counter and flicked it right back at you. It exploded in a soft white cloud across your tank top and collarbone. You gasped, eyes widening, and retaliated instantly—grabbing more flour and tossing it at his chest. Another puff burst between you, dusting the front of his black hoodie and catching in his hair.

“Seriously?” He laughed, already scooping more, “you started it, babe.”

You tried to duck behind the island, but the kitchen was tiny and he was faster, even with the slight limp. He caught you around the waist mid-step, pulling you back as he flung another handful. Flour went everywhere—exploding in soft bursts across your arms, your hair, the counter. You twisted in his hold, laughing despite yourself, and managed to smear a streak of cocoa down his cheek before he spun you again.

He couldn’t explain it, but having you laugh so freely in his presence—him making you laugh, yeah, it felt pretty damn good, and this smile was way better than you had given Jungwon in the earlier days of Jake chasing you—not that he was comparing (he was).

Your back hit the edge of the counter, both of you breathing harder now, covered in white powder and cocoa streaks. His hands stayed locked on your waist, thumbs pressing in, meanwhile yours ended up fisted in the front of his hoodie, pulling without thinking. Flour clung to his lashes, dusted his hair, streaked across his jaw. Your heart was hammering, butterflies rioting in your stomach, every inch of you hyper-aware of how close he was, how warm his body felt through the thin layers between you.

“Fuck,” he breathed, eyes dropping straight to your mouth, “you’ve got flour on your lip.”

“So do you,” you whispered.

Jake didn’t wipe it away. He leaned in slow, giving you every chance to stop him. Your breath caught again, but you closed the last inch anyway.

His lips were just as soft as they appeared to be, but more hungry than you could fathom, or manage. It felt consuming, the way his mouth moved against yours with this urgency but also a silent battle of him holding back. A low sound rumbled in his chest when your lips parted, granting his tongue the excess it so desperately craved. 

It slid in slow, tasting faintly of the bitter cocoa and flour, your heart slammed against your ribs so hard you were sure he could feel it. Butterflies erupted low in your stomach, fluttering all around hard enough, it made your thighs press instinctively around his hips. 

Bet. Bet. Bet.  

The words flashed sharp in the back of your mind, but it dissolved rather quickly when Jake’s hand slid higher under your tank top, palm hot and rough against the bare skin of your back, fingers spreading wide as if he was trying to cover the expanse of your skin. His other hand stayed locked at your waist, thumb digging in just enough to anchor you against him while he kissed you deeper—slower, learning the shape of your mouth. 

Everything else was forgotten for both him and you. All that existed was the warmth of his body pressed flush to yours, the faint scratch of his hoodie against your arms, the way his breath hitched when you tugged harder at the front of it.

“Yeah—fuck, like that,” he murmured against your lips, “kiss me back harder, c’mon, pretty.”

And so you did, tongue sliding against his in a messy push-pull that made his breath hitch, “you came over here to bake a cake,” you managed between kisses, sarcastic even as your hips rolled forward to meet his, “not to end up grinding on me in my kitchen.”

Jake laughed low against your mouth, the sound wrecked, and pressed his hips forward harder, letting you feel exactly how hard he was getting through his sweats, “pretty sure you started the flour fight, sweetheart. Don’t act like you weren’t waiting for this.” He kissed you deeper, tongue stroking yours in a filthy rhythm while he ground against you slow and deliberate, the friction pulling a sharp breath from you, “there, yeah. Feel that? That’s what you do to me every time you look at me like that, so fucking pretty.”

“Shut up,” you shot back, nipping his bottom lip hard enough to make him groan, then soothing it with your tongue. You rocked your hips right back into his, matching his pace, “you talk too much.”

He grinned against your mouth, that cocky little curve you could feel more than see, and rolled his hips again, slower this time, dragging right where it made your breath catch, “and you fucking love it.” His hand tightened on your waist, holding you steady as he kept that steady, grinding rhythm, “but keep doing that with your hips—yeah, baby, just like that—fuck.”

The oven timer went off, making you realize exactly how much time you’d devoted to this unholy activity.

You both froze, foreheads pressed together, chests heaving. His lips were swollen, eyes dark and glassy, breath hot against your mouth. Jake let out a rough, breathless chuckle, still holding you close, thumb stroking slow circles on your waist like he couldn’t stop touching you, “cake’s done.”

You dropped your head to his shoulder, a quiet laugh escaping you too, “this is insane.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, lips brushing your temple before he kissed the corner of your mouth once, lingering for a few seconds, then helped you slide down off the counter, hands steady on your hips the whole way, like he wasn’t quite ready to let the moment slip away.

It felt too—intimate, not that the act of making out wasn’t on par, it clearly was, but this? It carried more emotion than just your everyday lust. 

While the cake cooled on the rack, he prepared the frosting, letting everything take place before he reached into one of the bags and pulled out a small box of candles, trying to focus on regulating his breathing, and you started with your eyebrows lifted.

“Candles? For a random cake?”

He shrugged, cheeks going a little pink under the flour, “It’s for you, actually. Kinda a thank you? You sat with me after the practice when my leg was fucked, nobody else would’ve stuck around like that. Figured I owed you something sweet.”

You stared at him for a second, because this felt too genuine again, “Jake, that’s—”

“Crazy?” He laughed softly, lighting the candles anyway. They flickered golden in the morning light, “yeah, maybe. But you make me want to do crazy shit.”

You shook your head, the word “dork” slipping out quiet and fond before you could stop it. He just grinned, making you blow the candles, and yet again, you indulged in his theatrics before he managed to cut two big slices, sliding one over to you.

The cake was actually perfect, and it was clear that there wasn’t anything Jake Sim couldn’t do, maybe he couldn’t make you fall for him, but even you weren’t too sure, granted that you’d been smiling, and it wasn’t fake by any means. You took a bite and hummed in surprise, Jake watched you the whole time with a satisfied look on his face.

Then he scooped a bit of frosting onto his finger and held it out, eyes locked on yours, “here—try it this way.”

You leaned in and took it off his finger with your lips, slow. His breath hitched hard, and when you pulled back, he brought the same finger to his own mouth and licked the rest off, shameless and unhurried, tongue dragging over the pad like he was tasting you instead of frosting.

“Fuck,” he murmured, stepping close again, hands finding your waist like they belonged there, “you’re gonna kill me, YN.”

If domesticity with you felt like this, then Jake swears he can give up his parties just to spend an extra minute holding you close to his heart—which never lied. Jake was never dumb, not even now. He had always been quick to acknowledge his feelings, which screamed at him that nothing else mattered in this moment, just him and you. When you started to look in his eyes again, you gulped.

Because all that existed was him looking at you like this was exactly where he wanted to be.

CHAPTER EIGHT: Redbull gives you wings 

“The fuck?” 

Jay frowned, staring at his best friend. 

The sight was diabolical to say the least, the smile on Jake’s face despite it all—idiotic. There was no way to describe it, at least for Jay, who couldn’t fathom what absurd war Jake had gotten into to return back home with flour on his hair and body, and wait was that a Tupperware full of chocolate cake in his hands?

Jake didn’t bother with explanations, simply dropping the box on Jay’s lap, courtesy of you packing some up saying how he’d managed to make way too much for a single person. 

With how loud Jay’s voice had been, Sunghoon and Heeseung managed out come out of their rooms, equally as confused.

“Explain,” Sunghoon muttered, sitting next to Jay and grabbing a piece of cake.

“Nothing really, i just went to bake a cake with Y/N,” he managed to let out, still dazed. 

“And she decided to maul you with flour?” Heeseung winced, brushing some power off of Jake’s hair, “seems like you lost the fight.”

“C’mon, she started it, so of course I didn’t stop at that—and things, uhm, escalated.”

Right then, Hoon took a big bite of the sweet, regret clear on his face, nose wrinkling, “what the fuck, dude—there’s a whole patch of raw flour in the middle.”

Well, that batch was put in after the flour fight, which would explain the quality difference. 

Heeseung, who had already taken a forkful, shrugged and kept eating happily, “tastes fine to me. A bit lumpy, but the chocolate fixes it.”

Jay refused to touch it, not being polite in the way he pushed the whole container towards Heeseung, “yeah, I’m not eating that. And why do you look like you just got laid?”

Jake rubbed a hand over his jaw, the corners of his mouth still curved up, “we may have gotten a little distracted after the cake went in the oven.”

Heeseung choked, “distracted, how?”

Jake shrugged, not even trying to hide how pleased he was, “by kissing—a lot, oh god it felt good.” 

Jay dragged both hands down his face, “you went over there to make her fall for you and ended up making out with her in the kitchen? Jake, what the hell is going on with you? You’ve barely looked at any other girl in weeks.”

Jake didn’t answer right away. He just picked up a piece of the slightly floury cake and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully even though it really wasn’t that great.

“I’m thankful though, I can finally sleep without having to hear moans each fucking night,” Heeseung shudders, mind drifting back to how loud Jake and his night partners used to be. 

Sunghoon barked out a laugh, “yeah, we went from daily noise complaints to peaceful silence. Did you catch feelings or did she put her tear drop into the cake batter?”

“Shut up, it’s not like that,” Jake mumbled, though the tips of his ears turning red said otherwise, “and we’re not in Descendants.”

They all just stared at him, till he managed to huff, sitting down on the couch which offered no space to him, dirtying it in the process, “it’s just—it’s nice, okay? I don’t have to be loud or use up all my energy around her, it feels calm to be there even in silence.”

Jay almost gagged, “calm? Did you just change your whole personality cause you’re in love now?”

Sunghoon was grinning, “next thing you know he’ll be holding her hand on campus and calling her baby in public, and trust, I’ll be documenting every bit of it.”

Jake threw a small piece of cake at him, missing on purpose, “you guys are annoying as hell. Can we talk about something else?”

The boys kept teasing him for a few more minutes—throwing in dramatic predictions about Jake turning into a full boyfriend and suggestions to get him a I’m in my soft era shirt before finally letting it go and arguing about tomorrow’s practice instead. Jake just leaned back on the couch, half-listening, the small smile never quite leaving his face.

Because he knew things had changed, and so did you. It was a gradual shift, from you tolerating Jake’s presence to enjoying it (well, some part of you did at least). The idea of seeing him often didn’t make you groan in agony, it felt like a routine granted Jake had your schedule memorized to his bones, and he made it his mission to randomly appear and fall in step with you without making it awkward. 

“Hey, got you some coffee,” he’d naturally say, always bringing the latte, but he did make you try out an overly sweet drink which he fancied, and somehow, you didn’t hate it. 

It was concerning to say the least, your friends being more concerned than you, but of course no one was blind to the fact that maybe Jake was more deep in this than you were, and that bit was not an act, not anymore at least. 

It only escalated when one afternoon, you showed up at his practice session without him having you ask, a cold can of coconut berry red bull tucked in your bag. When you tossed it his way, his whole face lit up and he stared at you with such warmth, it seemed like his eyes were shining. It wasn’t a big deal, right? 

Wrong. Jake knew it didn’t take a lot to do something for others, but you’d noticed his favourite flavour—you’d managed to remember it despite him having not mentioned it. 

He was glad it was break time, cause he immediately cracked it open, “you remembered?”

You wanted to slap yourself for how hard it was to not smile at him, so you managed a shrug, “yeah, not a big deal.”

He stepped closer, still in his practice jersey, hair slightly damp from running drills, and you noticed how they’d grown longer, the afternoon sun catching on the sharp line of his collarbone. For a second he just looked at you, “it’s a big deal when you do it.”

The way he said it was enough to send a warm flutter through your chest that you quickly tried to ignore. You crossed your arms, pretending to watch the team stretching behind him, “don’t make it weird, Sim.”

“I’m not,” he replied, but the small grin tugging at his lips said otherwise. He took another sip, eyes never really leaving your face, and he swore, it was the best drink he’d ever had.

It almost felt like you were flying in the moment, as cheesy as it might be, maybe you’d blame redbull for giving you wings or whatever. 

There were other small things too. He started saving you the quiet corner seat in the library because he knew you liked your back to the wall. You’d gotten him a hair tie when you noticed the length of his hair again, and the second he tied his hair, even you were rendered speechless for a moment. 

The way it exposed the clean line of his jaw and the sharp cut of his cheekbones made something in your stomach tighten unexpectedly. You quickly looked back down at your notes, pretending you hadn’t noticed, oh but he noticed, and leaned in till his nose brushed against yours, “how do i look?” he’d asked.

“Good,” you remember breathing out, making him smile and lean in further, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before jogging back to the field, where three of his friends stood with their mouths hung open. It was a rather comical sight for anyone who watched from a distance. 

At least to Jaemin, it was. He was always lurking around, and no one knew what he was trying to achieve. Jeno could only shake his head standing beside him, but well. 

Anyway, as if that wasn’t enough, Jake would send you random memes at 2 a.m. when he knew you were still up studying, and you’d reply with a dry “go to sleep” that always made him smile at his phone like an idiot. 

Jake had truly forgotten about the bet.

The whole stupid game barely crossed his mind anymore. He wasn’t playing anymore. He just wanted to be around you.

You were trying to bury the memory of the bet deep inside too. Every time it tried to creep up, you shoved it back down. You told yourself you were still in control, that this was all part of the plan. But the truth was simpler and scarier—you liked having him around. You liked the easy quiet when you studied together. You liked the way he looked at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. 

And that terrified you more than anything.

CHAPTER NINE: Jealousy allegations?

“Are you like a hundred percent sure?”

You sighed, plopping on your bed with ease as you stared at Karina, who’d asked you this question at least, give or take, a million times. 

“Yes, I am sure—gosh, you gotta stop,” you mumbled, running a hand over your skirt, while Karina shook her head. 

“Trust me I have a feeling that something will happen tonight,” she exasperated for the nth time. 

Jake was finally throwing that party he’d mentioned after his game a few days back, and to Heeseung courtesy, it wasn’t a small gathering anymore, but a full blown party at their dormitory which won’t even fit the amount of people he’d invited. 

“What would happen? C’mon, I’m really okay,” you tried to reason. 

“Okay? Girl, you’re practically beaming, and you got ready before I did, is that not proof enough?” She went on, doing her eyeliner by side, “you look hot as hell in that skirt by the way, I’ll be praying for Jake.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight the small smile tugging at your lips. The black skirt sat high on your waist, paired with a simple fitted top that showed just enough skin, and most importantly—you felt confident about yourself, which just completed the look altogether. 

“Whatever. Let’s just go before I change my mind.”

Jungwon was already ready and waiting outside, and so you three went on as they both kept mumbling warnings in your ear, as if a child going outside alone for the first time. 

“Seriously, if he gets weird just text me,” Jungwon said, half-joking.

Karina bumped your shoulder. “Or I’ll drag you out myself. I’m still not convinced this is a good idea.”

You just shook your head and kept walking.

The dorm was loud when you stepped inside, music playing from the living room and voices overlapping in every corner. The place smelled like pizza and cheap beer (of course), the usual Saturday night mess. People were everywhere—some chilling on the couches, others crowding the kitchen for drinks.

You hadn’t even taken three steps before Jake spotted you.

He was mid-conversation with Jay near the counter, cup halfway to his mouth, when he froze. His eyes locked on you and stayed there, dragging slowly from your face down to the skirt and back up again. For a second he looked completely thrown, like someone (you) had knocked the air out of him. Then he was moving, crossing the room in a straight line without saying a word to anyone, and Jay only shook his head with a small smile. 

The second he reached you he pulled you into a hug.

His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand splaying across your lower back, the other sliding up to cradle the back of your head. He buried his face in your hair for a long moment, breathing you in like he needed it. You felt his chest rise and fall against yours, warm and solid, completely forgetting your friends who tried to process the situation from a respectful distance. 

“Fuck,” he muttered into your hair, voice low and rough, “you look—I don’t even know what to say right now.”

You laughed softly against his shoulder, letting yourself relax into the hug, “hi, Jake.”

He didn’t let go right away. His thumb rubbed a slow circle on your back, almost absentminded, and when he finally pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes were darker than usual, a little dazed, “you’re actually trying to kill me tonight, huh?”

You raised an eyebrow, fighting a smile, “It’s just a skirt.”

“It’s not just a skirt,” he said, voice quieter. His hand stayed on your waist, thumb brushing the edge of the fabric like he couldn’t help it.

You were about to tease him some more when he finally loosened his hold, stepping half a step back so he could actually look at you properly. His eyes flicked down again, then back up, and he let out a small breath like he was trying to collect himself.

That was when Sunoo wandered over from the kitchen, two cups in hand, spotting you both.

“Hey, Y/N,” Sunoo said, voice bright and easy like it always was in lab, “you actually came. I was starting to think you’d bail after that nightmare protocol we had last night.”

You turned toward him with a small laugh, “yeah, I almost did, Karina basically dragged me here,” you lied easily. 

Sunoo grinned, holding out one of the cups, “here, sprite with lime. I know you hate the sweet crap they make in the kitchen.”

Jake raised his brow, almost ready to scoff because you did like sweet drinks, and whoever this man was clearly didn’t know you enough. 

“Thanks,” you said, taking it, “needed that, the last lab almost killed me too.”

“Tell me about it,” Sunoo replied, leaning casually against the wall, “I spent twenty minutes trying to fix my gel after it kept tearing. Thought the TA was gonna cry with me.” He glanced at your outfit and nodded appreciatively. “By the way, that skirt looks really good on you. Way better than the lab coat.”

You let out a soft laugh, “appreciate it. Lab coat does no one any favors.”

Sunoo chuckled, “right? Anyway, how’s your presentation prep going? You were stressing about the lack of research papers ast class—”

From the corner of your eye, you saw Jake’s hand tighten slightly on your waist. He hadn’t moved away completely, still standing close enough that his shoulder brushed yours.

Across the room, Karina caught your eye from where she was standing with Jungwon near the couch. She raised her brows in a clear what the hell look, while Jungwon just shook his head slowly, arms crossed like he was already bracing himself. Jay, leaning against the kitchen counter with Heeseung and Sunghoon, muttered something that made all three of them glance over. Heeseung smirked, while Sunghoon shook his head again, amused. Jaemin, kicked back on the armchair nursing a drink, was outright grinning like he’d hit the jackpot.

Sunoo kept talking, completely unaware, asking a casual question about the upcoming quiz. You answered easily, laughing at the right moments because talking to Sunoo was just—simple? He was the same bubbly guy from lab who always offered to share notes honestly. 

Jake’s jaw ticked though, he wasn’t happy with this situation at all.

After another minute of the easy back-and-forth, Jake’s hand slid firmly from your waist to your lower back.

“Hey,” he said to Sunoo, voice calm but edged, “mind if I steal her for a second?”

Sunoo blinked, then gave an easy, unbothered smile, “yeah, of course. Nice catching up, Y/N.”

Jake didn’t bother waiting really. His hand stayed steady on your lower back as he guided you through the living room, weaving between people chatting and laughing. You could feel the tension in his fingers, the way they pressed a little harder than necessary against the fabric of your top. He didn’t say a word the whole way down the hallway. The party noise faded behind you, turning into a muffled hum.

The second his bedroom door clicked shut, Jake turned to face you, eyes dark, stepping in close, backing you up until your shoulders hit the door. His hand came up, fingers brushing your jaw, tilting your head just slightly to the side.

“Ignoring me the second he came in to talk, hm?” He asked, voice low as his breath ghosted over your neck as he leaned in, lips barely brushing the skin just below your ear, “looking this good while doing so?”

You swallowed, “Jake, he was just—”

He cut you off by pressing a slow, open-mouthed kiss right under your jaw. You felt his teeth graze lightly, then the warm drag of his tongue.

“Answer me,” he murmured against your skin, voice smug, “what was so funny?”

Your breath hitched, “It—it wasn’t anything, just talking about the lab—”

He simply granted you another kiss, slower this time, right by your pulse. His hand slid down to grip your waist, holding you in place as he sucked lightly on the same spot.

“You stuttered,” he said, the words warm against your neck, you could hear the smirk in his voice, “so fucking cute.”

You let out a shaky laugh, even as heat pooled low in your stomach, “you’re actually jealous right now, aren’t you?”

Jake pulled back just enough to look at you, not waiting as he leaned in and kissed you on the mouth—soft at first, almost sweet, like he was trying to shut you up gently. It didn’t last, the kiss deepening fast, his tongue sliding against yours until you were gripping his shirt tighter.

When he broke it, he was breathing harder, “yeah, I am. I don’t like watching you smile at someone else when I’m standing right there.”

You opened your mouth to tease him again, but he kissed you once more, firm, before you could get the words out.

“See?” He muttered against your lips, smirking, “try and be bratty if you want me to kiss you stupid.”

“Jake—” you started, voice already breathy.

He cut you off with another kiss, this one deeper, his hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck. When he pulled away, his forehead rested against yours for a second.

“Keep going,” he chuckled, “tell me how ridiculous I’m being.”

You tried, you did, “you’re being ridiculous. Sunoo was just—”

Jake’s mouth was on your neck again, sucking a slow, wet mark right below your ear. You gasped, fingernails digging in his skin now. 

“Wrong name coming out of your pretty lips, baby, try again,” he murmured, kissing the fresh mark.

“You’re fucking jealous,” you managed to say despite his previous confirmation of the same. Maybe you wanted to hear it again, maybe you wanted to feel the conviction of truth behind those words, the reality of it all. 

He kissed your lips hard, swallowing the rest of your sentence, then moved back down to your neck, sucking another mark lower this time.

“Yeah,” he admitted yet again against your skin, “I hate it—hate how easy it was for him to make you laugh like that when it took me days.”

Your head tipped back against the door with a soft thud. He kept going—kissing, sucking, marking you up like he needed to claim every inch Sunoo had made you smile at. Every bratty little comment you tried to throw at him earned you another kiss on the mouth or a deeper suck on your neck until your legs were actually trembling.

Finally Jake straightened up, eyes hungry. Without a word he bent down, hooked his arms under your thighs, and lifted you. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he carried you the few steps to his bed and laid you down.

To have you so close to him was a maddening experience, words leaving his lips with ease, “you’re beautiful, you know that?” 

Somewhere between the bet and the reality, you started getting used to his blatant sincerity he put into words. But this praise? It made you sigh blissfully, eyelids fluttering close despite not wanting to be separated from the sight of Jake getting closer to where you needed him the most. 

He crawled over you, settling between your legs, and kissed you again—slow and deep this time.

“Still think I’m ridiculous?” He asked against your mouth, hand sliding up your thigh, pushing your skirt higher.

You nodded, breathless, “very.”

Jake grinned, that same smug, jealous little smile, and kissed you once more before moving lower. He took his time with your neck again, sucking fresh marks while his hands worked your skirt up around your hips. When he reached the lace edge of your panties he paused, thumb brushing over the delicate fabric.

“These are pretty,” he murmured, hooking his fingers in them and slowly dragging them down your legs, tossing them aside somewhere, taking a note to pick it up later. 

Then he settled between your thighs properly, spreading them wider. He looked up at you, hair falling messily around his face from the small ponytail, eyes gleaming as he mumbled the praises of your beauty as if he was here to worship your being instead of what seemed to be a punishment for making him jealous. 

“Still got something smart to say?” He asked.

You opened your mouth, but the second his tongue dragged over you, slow and so perfectly warm—the words turned into a broken moan.

Jake groaned at the taste of you, the sound vibrating right against your clit. You reached down without thinking, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head. You pulled it out, letting his dark hair fall loose, then slid your hand into it and tugged hard.

Jake moaned louder against you, the vibration making your hips jerk.

“Fuck—do that again,” he breathed, voice wrecked. 

You did, tugging on his hair as he ate you out like he had all the time in the world—long, deep licks followed by quick flicks of his tongue that had your thighs shaking around his shoulders. Every pull on his hair earned you another low groan that went straight through you. 

“C’mon, tell me how it feels,” he spoke against you, and you groaned merrily. 

It’s not that you didn’t have any experience before, because you did. But never once a guy made you feel like they actually cared about getting you off rather than them chasing their own pleasure. Their flick of tongues did nothing, but Jake? He seemed like even having his whole face pressed against you wasn’t enough, as if nothing could satiate how desperate he was to have not a molecule of space between you two. 

A lot of things were in your mind, but you could only manage to choke out a few words, “so good—baby, it feels so good.”

If Jake hadn’t already lost his damn mind, your nickname certainly made him lose the last few of his working brain cells. The moan he let out was downright pornographic, and you could swear there wasn’t a sound prettier than that. 

You were completely gone, back arching off the bed, fingers tight in his hair, lost in the wet heat of his mouth and the smug little sounds he kept making against you. 

While you were wrapped up in this little bubble of unadulterated pleasure, outside the things were a bit different as Jay, Heeseung, and Sunghoon stood together, shaking their heads. 

“He really just dragged her straight to his room,” Jay muttered.

Heeseung sighed, “not even trying to be subtle anymore.”

Sunghoon smirked, “a hundred fucking pounds says they don’t come out for a while.”

Karina, standing with Jungwon near the couch, crossed her arms and muttered, “I knew something was gonna happen tonight.”

Jungwon just sighed, looking resigned, “this is exactly what I was worried about.”

Jaemin, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair with the biggest grin on his face, looking far too pleased with himself.

“This is even better than I planned.”

CHAPTER TEN: Bet versus feelings. 

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

The voice seemed to have echoed, because the same sentence was being uttered at the exact same second inside two different dorms, by two different people. 

First being Jungwon, clearly directed towards you once you were done giving your side of the story to him. 

Jake was undergoing the exact same procedure of questioning, causing Jay to scream in agony. 

Things were clearly going perfectly, Jake was in too deep, you were in too deep, all for the bet, right? Right? 

Because as far as acting was concerned, even it had limits, which certainly didn’t include getting eaten out and fingered all night. Cherry on the top was when you both fell asleep in each other’s arms with Jake caressing your back so gently, you learned the meaning of comfort in its truest scene. 

So, why did it feel so easy when Jake kissed you in the morning, when he walked you back home with ease, talking normally as if everything was fine. Your heart broke a little at the thought of him just using you, and trust was a delicate topic for you. How could you even let yourself think that he actually wanted you when the whole relationship of yours was built on a pathetic bet. Which is why, you let yourself fall in deeper, to feel more of his warmth before it ends.  

Before he could ask what was bothering you, a gentle kiss was placed on his lips, “bye, Jakey.” 

The simple fact that you initiated the kiss had Jake smiling like an idiot before you walked inside your dorm, and he left for his own, heart thumping fast, almost in a way that it was synchronized. 

And now you were here, eyes watering in front of your friends who could only pull you in a deep hug. 

“Y/N, just tell him, just end this I swear,” Jungwon mumbled, and you didn’t know what to say, so you resorted to hugging them both till you fell asleep again. 

Jake on the other hand—he couldn’t stop pacing around as the three watched him like a hawk, eyes moving in sync with every step he took across the living room.

Jay leaned back on the couch, arms crossed, looking way too smug, “I told you you’d fall for her.”

Jake stopped dead in his tracks, spinning around so fast he nearly tripped, “I didn’t fall. I’m not—fuck, okay maybe I did, but shut up.”

Sunghoon let out a loud laugh, slapping his knees “you dragged her into your room in front of everyone. You’re on your knees for her at this point.”

Heeseung was already cracking up, head thrown back, “the way you looked at Sunoo? Pure murder like, he didn’t even do shit.”

Jake groaned, running his fingers through his hair, “you guys are the worst. I was standing right there and she was laughing with him like it was the easiest thing in the world. I hate it.”

Jay raised an eyebrow, “you hate it? Or you’re jealous as hell?”

“Both,” Jake muttered, then dramatically dropped to his knees right in the middle of the living room, forehead hitting the floor with a thud, “I’m so fucked. What the hell is wrong with me?”

Jay let out a loud laugh, leaning forward on the couch, “wrong? It’s literally called love, Jake.”

“On your knees in the living room because a girl, you’re not yours by the way, smiled at someone else? Yeah, you’re fucked.” Sunghoon added helpfully. 

Heeseung clapped slowly, “soft boy Jake is real. We’re witnessing history.”

Jake stayed on the floor for a second, breathing hard, face pressed against the carpet. His mind wouldn’t stop replaying last night—the way you’d gasped his name when he had his mouth on you, the way your thighs had shaken around his shoulders. How he couldn’t stop staring at you even after you came down, all soft and sleepy in his bed, lashes resting against your cheeks, lips slightly parted. You looked so beautiful like that, relaxed and trusting, nothing guarded in your expression for once. He’d kissed your forehead then, slow and careful, while you dozed off against his chest. Later, when he still couldn’t sleep, he’d grabbed his diary and sketched you—just the curve of your cheek, the way your hair fell across the pillow, the small peaceful smile you had even in sleep. It wasn’t weird. It was just—you. He needed to remember exactly how it felt.

He groaned again, louder this time, “I’m so fucked.”

“So you’ve said.”

The boys kept teasing, but Jake was already thinking ahead.

He pushed himself up, hair a mess, cheeks still flushed, “whatever. Laugh all you want, I’m gonna ask her on a proper date.”

The room went quiet for half a second, observing him closely to find out any signs of humour or a joke. 

Jay blinked, “you’re serious?”

“Yeah,” Jake said, grabbing his glasses, “I’m serious.”

Sunghoon raised an eyebrow, still amused but skeptical, “you sure that’s a good idea right now? Things are already messy as hell.”

Heeseung nodded slowly, “moving kinda fast, don’t you think?”

Jake just shrugged, the stupid smile creeping back onto his face, “I don’t care, I want to do it right.”

The problem now was that Jake had never planned a date before, heck he’d never even dated before. He knew that something grand wouldn’t work, not right now at least, so when he woke up the next day, he had a few errands to run. Thankfully, he had only one lecture, after which he found himself running around the campus with a list, more motivated thann he’d ever been. 

By late afternoon he found himself standing outside the biotech building, leaning against the wall near the main exit with his hands in his pockets. He knew your schedule by heart now. When you finally stepped out, backpack slung over one shoulder, he pushed off the wall and walked straight up to you.

You stopped, surprised, but the second he pulled you into a hug your expression softened. His arms wrapped around you tight, one hand rubbing your back like he needed the contact more than air, “hey,” he mumbled into your hair.

You smiled despite everything, pressing your face into his chest for a second, “Jake? What are you doing here? Don’t you have practice right now?”

He pulled back just enough to look at you, hands still on your waist, “I skipped.”

“You skipped?” you asked, eyes widening a little.

“Yeah.” He rubbed the back of his neck, looking a bit awkward but determined. “I want to take you out right now, just us, if you’ll let me.”

Your heart skipped. He was being so boldly awkward about it, standing there in the middle of the hallway like skipping practice for you was the most normal decision in the world. 

You teased, trying to keep your voice light, “what if I say no?”

Jake’s face fell instantly, that hurt-puppy look laughed at you right in the heart—big eyes, slight pout, shoulders slumping just a little like you’d actually kicked his favorite ball into traffic. It was funny how you could compare him to puppies so often and he didn’t seem to mind. 

“Then—I guess I’ll go back to practice,” he said quietly, voice cracking at the end, “but you’re really gonna say no?”

You didn’t know what to say, skipping classes wasn’t really something you did, unless you were sick beyond your ability to stand, however, a small voice within you screamed, skipping once wouldn’t hurt, right? 

You reached out and took his hand, lacing your fingers through his, sending a shiver up his arm, “lead the way, Sim.”

Jake’s whole face lit up like you’d just handed him the world, and maybe you did. He squeezed your hand once, tight, and started walking, pulling you gently along with him.

You walked side by side across the quad, the late afternoon sun warm on your skin. His thumb kept brushing slow circles over your knuckles, and the simple touch felt so grounding, so comfortable. 

“Where are we going?” You asked after a minute, glancing up at him.

Jake grinned, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “It’s a secret.”

You raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips, “you’re really not gonna tell me anything?”

“Nope,” he said, voice light and playful, “just trust me, okay?”

From a distance near the science building, Heeseung stood watching the two of you with a small smile, “they’re already acting like a couple,” he murmured to himself, shaking his head fondly.

When you reached the parking lot, Jake stopped in front of a sleek black car you didn’t recognize.

You looked back at Jake, “wait—you drive?”

Jake grinned, a little cocky as he opened the passenger door for you, “yeah, borrowed it from Jay. Figured walking you around campus wasn’t gonna cut it today.”

You slid in, the leather seat cool against the back of your thighs. Jake got in on the driver’s side, started the engine, then turned to you, looking a little nervous but hopeful.

“So, uh, what’s your favourite flower?” He asked, voice casual but his fingers tapped lightly on the steering wheel.

You raised your brow, surprised by the question, “Tulip, why?”

Jake let out a small, relieved breath. He reached into the backseat and pulled out three bouquets—a bright bunch of fresh tulips, a classic dozen roses, and a smaller mixed one with daisies and soft white flowers.

He handed them to you carefully, almost shy, “I wasn’t sure which ones you liked, so I got a few options. Just in case, thank god you chose one of those—”

You stared at the flowers in your lap, heart squeezing so hard it almost hurt. He had gone out and bought three different bouquets because he didn’t want to get it wrong, for you.

Before you could stop yourself, you leaned across the console and kissed him midway through his nervous ramble. 

It was soft and grateful at first, but Jake melted instantly, one hand coming up to cup your cheek like he needed to hold onto the moment. When you pulled back, his eyes were a little dazed, lips parted, that stupid, lovestruck smile back on his face.

“God,” he whispered, thumb brushing your cheek, “you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You laughed softly, cheeks warm, and settled back into your seat with the bouquets still cradled in your lap. Jake grabbed your hand again, lacing your fingers together on the center console like he couldn’t stand not touching you.

He started driving, thumb still tracing slow circles over your knuckles, stealing little glances at you every few seconds like he still couldn’t believe you were here with him.

You were so fucked, and now, you didn’t even care. 

The drive was short, just ten minutes out of campus to a quiet spot by the river. You’d passed it a few times before, always packed with students on weekends, but on a weekday afternoon it was practically empty—just the soft rush of water, a few birds, and the warm sun filtering through the trees.

Jake parked and killed the engine, then turned to you with that soft smile you’d grown to love, “wait here.”

He got out, popped the trunk, and came around to your side with a big picnic basket and a folded blanket. You watched him spread the blanket on a sunny patch of grass near the water, setting everything out with careful hands. There were little sandwiches you liked, fresh fruit, the coconut berry Red Bull he knew you’d steal from him, and even a small box of those chocolate cookies you’d mentioned once in passing.

You stepped out of the car, flowers still in your arms, feeling suddenly shy that was very out of your character, “Jake—you did all this?”

He looked up at you from where he was kneeling on the blanket, eyes bright, “yeah. Figured we deserved something nice, just us.”

You sat down beside him, cheeks warm, and he basked in it—the way you ducked your head a little, fiddling with the edge of the blanket, the small smile you couldn’t hide. He loved seeing you like this, unguarded and a little flustered because of him.

The sun got brighter as the afternoon stretched on. After you’d eaten and talked about nothing and everything, Jake stretched out and laid his head in your lap, looking up at you with those pretty eyes. No big smile this time—just quiet, almost reverent.

You reached down, fingers finding the hair tie at the back of his head, and gently pulled it out. His dark hair fell loose around his face. You slid your hand into it, playing with the strands, slow and gentle.

Jake let out a contented sigh, eyes never leaving your face.

“You know I have a dog named Layla?” He said quietly after a while, voice warm.

You smiled down at him, still running your fingers through his hair, “yeah? Tell me about her.”

“She’s a Border Collie. Super hyper, loves chasing balls, but she’s the biggest cuddler when she’s tired. She always knows when I’m having a bad day and just—sits next to me until I feel better.”

You laughed softly, “she sounds perfect.”

He hummed, eyes soft, “she is.”

Time passed easily between you. The river flowed steadily nearby, birds chirped overhead, and the sun warmed your skin. Jake told you how he loved singing but almost never did it in front of people because it felt too embarrassing. You told him how you were terrified of roller coasters and how you liked cats because they were quiet and independent. He almost gasped when you admitted you loved horror movies, cause they scared Jake half to death.

“You ever scream at the screen?” He asked, grinning up at you.

“Never,” you admitted, “do you?”

“A lot,” he mumbled, and you chuckled—that sound becoming Jake’s favourite each passing second. 

Jake’s eyes stayed on your face the whole time, soft and full of something deep. He felt surreal having you like this—so close, so willing, so in love with the version of you that no one else really got to see. The way your fingers moved through his hair, the gentle way you looked down at him, it made his chest ache in the best way. It made no sense how you looked so fucking pretty even from that angle, so perfect. 

At one point he reached up, hand gentle on the back of your neck, and pulled you down for a soft kiss. It was slow, sweet, full of everything you both weren’t saying yet. You got goosebumps all over, your body reacting so perfectly to him, to the quiet love blooming between you.

When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours, he whispered, “I’m really glad you said yes.”

You kissed him again, softer this time, heart so full it almost hurt.

You could feel how down bad he was—the way his hand rested on your thigh like he needed the contact, the quiet reverence in his gaze every time he looked up at you, the small, content sighs he let out whenever your nails scratched lightly against his scalp. He didn’t say any of it out loud, he didn’t need to, really. It was all there in the way he looked at you.

After a while he sat up slowly, hair messy from your fingers, eyes soft and dark. Without a word he reached for you, hands gentle on your waist as he pulled you into his lap. You settled against him easily, knees on either side of his thighs, and he grabbed your chin with careful fingers, tilting your face down to his.

The kiss was soft at first, full of everything that had been building between you all afternoon. His lips moved against yours like he had all the time in the world, thumb brushing your jaw in the gentlest way.

When he pulled back he wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight against his chest. You held him just as tightly, arms looped around his neck, face buried in the crook of his shoulder. You didn’t want this to end, not the warmth of him, not the steady beat of his heart against yours, not the way he made the rest of the world feel so far away.

Jake pressed a kiss to the side of your neck, slow and lingering. You whispered his name, soft and breathless, “Jake—”

He smiled against your skin, the curve of his lips warm and pleased. Then he licked over the same spot, and your breath hitched.

You pulled back just enough to look at him, cheeks warm, “you’re terrible,” you complained, but there was no real heat in it.

Jake’s eyes sparkled with that smug little glint. Before you could say anything else he pulled you back down into a deeper kiss, filled with everything he felt—the want, the softness, the quiet desperation of someone who was completely, utterly, helplessly in love with you. His hand slid into your hair, the other pressed against your lower back, holding you close as the kiss turned slow and emotional, tongues brushing, breaths mingling, hearts beating in the same unsteady rhythm.

You melted into it, fingers curling into his shirt, losing yourself in the way he kissed you like you were the only thing that mattered.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: Foggy façade.

It was the third time Jake had rerouted the car to go away from the campus, and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his antics, a pout on his plump lips as you pointed out that he was, in fact, not willing to take you home. 

“I just don’t want the day to end, is that so bad?” He spoke so freely and you wondered how he got the confidence to say things like that without sounding ridiculous, his hand stayed laced with yours on the console. 

“You’re literally driving in circles,” you said, squeezing his fingers, “we’ve passed that same coffee shop twice now.”

Jake glanced over at you, eyes bright even in the fading light, “worth it. Every single time I look at you I forget where I’m supposed to be going.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave you away completely, “smooth talker. Take me home, Sim, I have an assignment due tomorrow.”

He made a dramatic whining sound, slowing the car at a red light, “one more hour. Please? I’ll be good. I’ll even let you pick the music.”

You laughed, leaning your head back against the seat, even though you couldn’t deny it yourself, you didn’t wish to go back, “you’re impossible.”

The light turned green and instead of turning toward campus he took another random right, the river still sparkling in the distance behind you. You narrowed your eyes at him, “Jake.”

“What?” He asked innocently, but the grin tugging at his mouth was anything but, “I’m just—taking the scenic route.”

You were still bickering lightly when he suddenly pulled off the main road into a quiet, tree-lined side street and parked under the shade of an old oak. The engine cut off. For a second the only sound was the soft tick of the cooling car and your own heartbeat.

“Jake,” you said again, softer this time.

He turned to you fully, eyes dark and a little desperate, “I can’t stand not kissing you for one more second.”

Before you could even tease him about it, he was leaning across the console, one hand sliding into your hair as his mouth crashed into yours. The kiss was messy and urgent, like he’d been holding back the whole drive. You kissed him back just as hard, fingers curling into his shirt, the taste of the picnic strawberries still lingering on his tongue.

“Backseat,” he mumbled against your lips, already fumbling with both your seatbelts, “c’mon, baby.”

You laughed breathlessly into the kiss, “Jay’s gonna actually murder you if he finds out what we’re doing in his car.”

“Let him,” Jake grinned, nipping at your bottom lip before climbing over the console in that surprisingly smooth way he had. He tugged you with him and you tumbled into the backseat together, legs tangling, laughter bubbling up between more kisses, “totally worth getting murdered for.”

You ended up straddling his lap, your jeans rubbing against the front of his as his hands gripped your waist tight. The humping started almost immediately—slow rolls of your hips that had you both groaning at the friction. Denim on denim felt stupidly good, the thick seam of your jeans pressing right against your core every time you rocked forward.

“Fuck,” Jake breathed, head falling back against the seat as you ground down harder, “even through the jeans you feel incredible.”

You leaned down, kissing him again while you kept moving, slow and teasing,  “you’re so impatient, Jakey,” you murmured against his mouth, smiling when he chased your lips.

“Can you blame me?” He bucked up to meet you, hands sliding under your top to grip your bare waist, “been hard since the river. Watching you play with my hair, looking so fucking pretty, I couldn’t help it.”

The laughter died down into heavier breaths and soft moans, and you fucking loved how vocal Jake was. You kept rolling your hips in lazy circles, feeling how hard and thick he was beneath you. Jake’s hands roamed higher, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts, and every little sound he made went straight to your core.

Eventually you slid lower, kissing down his neck, then his chest, until you were kneeling between his legs in the cramped backseat. Your hands worked open his belt and jeans, and when you pulled him out, his cock was so big and thick it made your mouth water.

Jake let out a shaky breath, fingers gently threading into your hair, “baby, you really don’t have to—”

“I want to,” you said, looking up at him. You nuzzled your cheek against the heavy length first, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along it, feeling it twitch against your skin.

“Fuck,” he groaned, low and wrecked. “Look at you—nuzzling my cock like that. So pretty.”

You licked a slow stripe from base to tip, then took the head into your mouth, sucking gently. Jake’s groan was loud, head tipping back against the seat.

“Shit—yeah, just like that,” he panted, fingers tightening in your hair but never pushing, “you look so fucking good with your lips around me.”

You took him deeper, tongue swirling every time you pulled back. He was so thick it stretched your mouth perfectly, and you loved the way he filled you.

“Jaeyun,” you moaned around him, the name slipping out soft and needy.

Jake’s whole body jerked hard, “fuck—say it again,” he groaned, voice breaking, “god, I love when you call me that. Say it again, baby, please.”

“Jaeyun,” you whispered, taking him even deeper, eyes watering a little as you looked up at him through your lashes.

He let out a wrecked sound, hips twitching up just slightly before he caught himself. His fingers tightened in your hair, not pulling, just holding on like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. You could feel him throbbing against your tongue, the way his thighs tensed every time you hollowed your cheeks.

But then his hand slid down to your shoulder, gentle but urgent, “come here,” he breathed, voice rough, “I need you closer.”

You pulled off with a soft pop, lips shiny, and he didn’t waste a secon—he tugged you up into his lap again, hands already working your jeans open. You shoved his jeans down further, wrapping your hand around his cock, stroking him slow and tight while he pushed two fingers into you without warning. The stretch made you gasp, forehead dropping to his shoulder.

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he muttered against your neck, curling his fingers just right, “all this for me?”

You nodded, breath hitching as you kept stroking him, thumb swiping over the head on every upstroke. The car was getting warmer, windows starting to fog, the cramped backseat making everything feel even more intense—elbows bumping seats, knees knocking, but neither of you cared. You rocked into his hand while he fucked you with his fingers, messy and uncoordinated and perfect.

Jake’s mouth found your neck, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. You moaned, head tilting to give him more space, and he took it, kissing, licking, biting down gently before soothing the spot with his tongue. Another mark right below your ear, then one on your collarbone. He was claiming you in the quietest way possible, and it made your stomach flip.

His fingers sped up, thumb pressing against your clit, and you squeezed him tighter in response, stroking faster.

“You feel so good,” he panted, voice low and broken against your skin, “I—I can’t even think straight when you’re like this. I think I lo—”

You cut him off with a kiss, hard and desperate, swallowing whatever he was about to say. Your heart was hammering too loud, the guilt and the want twisting together until it hurt. You weren’t ready, not yet. Not when everything still felt like it was built on something you couldn’t admit out loud.

Jake groaned into your mouth, kissing you back like he understood anyway, fingers still moving inside you, thumb circling faster. You kept stroking him, messy and slick, both of you breathing hard between kisses, bodies pressed so close you could feel his heartbeat against yours.

He pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, eyes dark and glassy, “you’re everything,” he whispered instead, the words thick, “don’t stop, baby.”

You didn’t, kissing him again, slower this time, the act so devastatingly soft, your bodies couldn’t help but react by reaching the peak of unadulterated pleasure you both provided each other with, messy and desperate, but none of you cared in the moment, enjoying the bliss of it all. 

Letting the mess of feelings stay buried under the heat of his mouth.

CHAPTER TWELVE: The forgotten bet

You didn’t know what to do with yourself anymore, and somehow hiding in the library was the best you could do to get away from everything you wanted to be close to. Choosing a seat which you normally didn’t opt for was even worse, and the notes in front of you seemed to be in an entirely different language when your mind was elsewhere. 

But someone had this weird idea about the whereabouts of practically everyone in the campus, which is why Jaemin found you sulking in a corner, his smile as bright as ever as invited himself to sit next to you. 

“Bet not going too well, I presume,” he started, breaking your train of thoughts. 

That shit eating grin on his face infuriated more, and there was nothing more you wished to do than punch him at the given moment. 

“What the fuck do you want?” You snapped, not even bothering to look up from the notes that might as well have been written in ancient Greek.

“Relax,” he said, leaning back like he had all day, “I come in peace. Just checking in on my favorite partner in crime.”

You finally glanced at him, jaw tight, “there’s no bet anymore. So, you can leave.”

Jaemin laughed under his breath, spinning one of your pens between his fingers, “sure looks like there is to me. I saw you two at the party,  the way he dragged you into his room right in front of everyone. Then yesterday? Jay’s car parked on that quiet street for almost an hour, windows completely fogged up. Jake came back to the dorm looking like he’d just won the lottery. He’s been skipping practice, smiling at nothing, telling the guys he’s taking you on a date again very soon. He’s in deep, Y/N. Like, actually gone.”

Your stomach twisted. Of course he knew. Jaemin always knew everything that happened on campus.

He leaned in a little, voice dropping but still smug, “you’ve got him right where you want him. One more good date, a couple more nights like yesterday, and he’s gonna say it. The whole i’m in love with you speech. Then you reject him, take the Paris trip, and we both win. Easy.”

You stared at him, chest tight, “you’re actually serious right now.”

“Dead serious,” he said, grin still firmly in place. “This was your plan too, remember? Make him fall hard, then crush him. Don’t go soft on me just because he bought you three bouquets and looked at you with those puppy eyes. You’re winning. Don’t fuck it up now.”

He stood up slowly, tapping the table once with his knuckle, “think about it. He’s already forgetting the car even exists. Finish the job before it gets too messy.”

Jaemin walked off without another word, even though you did scream your answer, garnering the attention of students who weren’t pleased about it.  But yes, he did leave you alone with the heavy knot in your chest and the notes you still couldn’t read.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Too good to be true 

This wasn’t the plan. 

Sitting in the bleachers, supporting Jake, clad in this jacket as if you were his girlfriend. To make things worse, Jake absolutely preened in showing you off, not one care about embarrassment, not when he was the one who had insisted you wear it before the game even started. 

“Looks better on you than it does on me,” he’d said with that easy grin, tugging the collar straight and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead right there on the sidelines where half the team could see. You’d rolled your eyes at the time, but now, with his name printed across the back in bold white letters, you felt the weight of every curious glance from the crowd.

The game was loud to say the least, Jungwon and Karina agreed, but they also silently agreed that your happiness came first, and at the moment, you looked really happy. Jake was everywhere—stealing the ball with sharp precision, setting up plays that made the stands roar, running like the field belonged to him alone. Every few minutes his eyes would flick up to the bleachers, searching until they landed on you. The second they did, his whole face would change. That bright, boyish smile would break through the concentration, and he’d give you this tiny, secret nod like you two were the only ones who understood what it meant.

“I’m not doing it,” you whispered to yourself. 

Jungwon only smiled, “we know—we’ve always known.”

You turned to look at him, “how?” Somehow the question itself made you seem small, especially the possibility of Jake finding out and losing trust in you—seemed way worse. 

“You try to act all tough, but we know how soft you are,” Karina spoke softly. 

“And with Jake? There was no way we didn’t see this coming, you really can’t fool us,” Jungwon added with a dimpled smile, making you chuckle despite the breakdown you were going to have. 

You didn’t realize how heavy the bet felt till you got it off of your chest, eyes watery as you turned to look at Jake in his element yet again, watching how he moved with ease under the burden of the timer ticking. But Jake was really good at what he did, kicking the ball straight into the net as it curled around in the corner left just as the whistle blew in the background. 

You didn’t even realize you were screaming until your own voice hit your ears. You shot up fully, hands in the air, cheering so loud your throat hurt. “Yes, Jake! Go!” The words just flew out of you, completely unfiltered. Jungwon and Karina were jumping beside you, all three of you yelling like idiots. 

Jake didn’t celebrate with his teammates. He broke away from the pile and ran straight for the stands, jumping the barrier in one smooth motion, and before you could even catch your breath he was right there in front of you, chest heaving, that huge, bright grin on his face.

He grabbed your waist with both hands and spun you around once, fast. Your feet left the ground, the roar of the crowd blurring into one big cheer.

“Jake!” You squeaked, laughing but instantly embarrassed as people around you whistled and shouted, “put me down—everyone’s watching—”

He didn’t listen. He spun you one more time, slower this time, eyes locked on yours like the rest of the stadium had disappeared. “Let them watch,” he said, still grinning like an idiot, “I scored that goal thinking about you, I want them to know it.”

When he finally set you back on your feet he didn’t step back. He cupped your face with both hands and kissed you right there in front of everyone—deep, a little messy, his jersey was damp with sweat, his heart still hammering against yours, but the kiss felt steady. 

Your face burned hot the second his lips touched yours. You could feel hundreds of eyes on you, phones probably out, people cheering and laughing, but Jake didn’t care at all. He kissed you like the crowd wasn’t even there, like this was the only thing that mattered.

When he finally pulled back just enough to rest his forehead on yours, he was breathing hard, eyes shining, “I—I, uh,” he tried to find words, but with you looking at him so sweetly, he just melted, “you’re my good luck charm.”

And gosh, you smiled, pecking him softly, reciprocating the exact feelings he’d been harbouring towards you. His teammates were yelling his name from the field, and so he left with a promise to be back soon. 

It’s normal for any sane person to get scared when things feel too good to be true, exactly how they felt for you and Jake, so the flicker of worry didn’t go unnoticed by Jake after the whole team came out. When they came out of the locker rooms, hair damp and smelling like fresh soap, Jake made a face at the idea of the big victory party happening across campus.

He glanced at you, really looked at you for a second, and caught the tiny flicker of worry that crossed your face, clearing his throat, “guys, I’m tired, let’s just go to the dorm and get some food and drinks ordered in.” 

Jake looked down at you again, voice softer just for you, “that cool? We can keep it small.”

You managed a small smile and nodded, “yeah. That sounds perfect, actually.”

He smiled back, the kind of relieved, soft smile that made your chest feel a little lighter, and pressed a quick kiss to the side of your head, “good, let’s go home then.”

Jaemin, who had wandered over to join the group at some point, grinned wide. Jeno, standing a step behind him, shot Jaemin a sharp look and shook his head once, trying to warn him without saying anything out loud. Jaemin just smirked and ignored him completely.

Jake didn’t notice. He was too busy lacing his fingers with yours again, already tugging you gently toward the dorms. It was new to you, the feeling of being held in someone’s arms—in front of everyone, as if the concept of personal space was foreign to Jake, but did you actually want him to let go of you? Absolutely not, even if you won’t admit it out loud. 

Jake hadn’t let go of you once. He kept you tucked right against his side on the couch, one arm looped around your shoulders, fingers tracing lazy little patterns on your arm like he couldn’t stop touching you. Every few minutes he’d lean in and press a soft kiss to your temple or the top of your head or the corner of your mouth, completely unbothered by the others being right there.

Was it really that easy to fall in so deep for someone within a month? Take yourself for example, wrapped up in Jake’s embrace, it certainly did seem true to some extent. 

“You okay? You’ve been quiet since we got back, was I too much?” He asked, thumb brushing the side of your neck, a worried pout on his face. 

You shook your head just a bit, “I’m just happy, you did so well out there, Jakey.”

He sighed with happiness, all worries gone in a second, “couldn’t have done it without you.”

Sunghoon groaned loudly, “dude, you’re so gone it’s painful to watch.”

Jake laughed, pressing another kiss to the top of your head, “leave me alone, man. I earned this.”

You were about to tease him back when the door swung open.

Jaemin strolled in with Jeno beside him, grabbing a slice of pizza from the nearest box and dropping onto the arm of the couch across from you, taking a big bite. His eyes flicked over the scene—Jake’s arm still wrapped around you, the way Jake was still leaning into you like he couldn’t get close enough. Jaemin’s grin sharpened.

“Damn, look at you two,” he said casually, chewing, “still going strong, huh? So Jake, did you finally drop the L-word on her yet? Cause you have two days left till the bet ends.”

You stilled, staring at Jaemin with wide eyes, just like everyone else in the room. Jeno groaned at the back cause he did try to stop Jaem, but to no avail. But it was almost as if he couldn’t pick up context cues, and so he continued, “you told her about it right? Since you’re smitten now, that’s why you’re together, right?” 

“Jaemin,” Jake warned him, his hold tightening on you, “shut the fuck up.”

Jungwon and Karina were ready to take you back, almost jumping to their feet, but that’s not where Jaem stopped. Jungwon was already shifting closer on the couch until his knee pressed against yours, one hand resting lightly on your arm like he was ready to pull you out of there the second you needed it.

“What? You didn’t tell her?” He smirked, now staring right at you, “well, too fucking bad cause she already fucking knows you’re playing her for a car,” he smirked, leaning back against the couch, finally letting the drama unfold. 

Your chest tightened so hard it hurt to breathe. You felt the heat rush to your face, then drain away just as fast, leaving you cold. Jay was staring at the floor like it had answers. Heeseung’s hand froze around his beer. Sunghoon looked like he wanted to sink into the cushions. Karina’s eyes were wide, looking at you knowing exactly how you felt right now—especially after the nights you cried with her. Jungwon’s fingers tightened on your arm because of the same. 

Of course his friends had known the whole time.

You pulled away from Jake’s arm slowly, like your body was moving through water. The walls you’d been trying so hard to keep down slammed back up, higher than before. You felt small, exposed, stupid even. Like every soft kiss, every my girl, every time he looked at you like you mattered had been watched and laughed at behind your back.

You stood up, “I knew it the whole time,” you confessed, observing just how panicked he seemed at the moment, “Jaemin told me everything at the very beginning—how you just bet on my feelings for his car,” you tried to stop yourself from getting emotional, letting a shaky breath out as Jake’s shaking hand held on to yours, “so he asked me to do the same, to show you how it hurts to play with someone’s emotions.” 

His face went pale, and even though he opened his mouth, no words came out, just throbbing pain in his heart, and eyes wide as if he’d gotten punched in the gut. 

Maybe him accepting it would’ve made it better, but for Jake, there wasn’t an option between fight or flight, only freezing on the spot. Everyone stayed silent, watching it unfold and Jay tried to shake Jake’s shoulders, but all he could see was your trust crumpling, and his heart breaking. 

“You—you don’t actually like me?” He asked, voice breaking. 

“I do—I fucking do,” your voice cracked as well, “going through with the bet was not my intention, but what about you, Jake?”

Jake’s hand, still reaching for yours, started to tremble. His mouth opened again, but nothing came out. The guilt on his face was so raw it made your stomach turn. He looked hurt—really hurt, and you weren’t sure how to feel anymore, the hypocrisy of it all sinking in deeper, making everything worse. You’d planned to use him too, you were no better. The walls around you shot up even higher at the absence of words, of reassurance. 

So you asked again, “Jake, was any of it real?” 

Jake finally spoke, voice barely above a whisper, broken, “you—you knew the whole time?”

You nodded, a tear cascaded down the curve of your cheek freely, “yeah. I knew.”

He let out a shaky breath, like the words physically hurt him, “and you still—you let me fall for you anyway? You let me get this deep even though you knew I started it for a stupid bet? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

The rise in his voice almost made you laugh, “so now you’re hurt cause I knew? After you started the whole thing for a car? That’s rich, Jake.”

Jungwon stood up right beside you, shoulder brushing yours, protective, “Y/N, you don’t have to explain anything else to him, not right now.”

“No, no—Jake just fucking tell me, is it real?” You waited for an answer, to get absolute silence in return, “Jake?” 

You tried for the last time, just to find tears streaming down his flushed face, but nothing came out of his mouth. He was too in his head, cursing himself, cursing Jaeming for letting it happen, but you? How could he ever hate you? 

Wiping your tears roughly, you let Karina embrace you, who kept glaring at all the boys. It wasn’t awkward for them, they felt guilty too, but knew better than to speak up in between them. 

You stepped back, “fine then—I’m done, we’re done. Don’t follow me, don’t text me. Just stay the hell away from me.”

You turned toward the door. Jake shot up after you, voice cracking, “Y/N, wait—please, just let me explain—”

“Don’t,” you snapped, not turning around.

Karina was already grabbing your jacket, “c’mon, let’s get out of here.”

Jungwon stayed right at your side until you reached the door, then spun around, glaring at Jay, “you should’ve stopped him, you knew what he was doing from the start. You let him play with her feelings like it was nothing. What the fuck, Jay?”

Jay looked wrecked, never expecting Jungwon to get angry, “I tried, man. I told him it was fucked up—”

“You all knew!” Jungwon’s voice rose, “every single one of you sat there and watched her fall and didn’t say a word. That’s fucked up—you couldn’t reassure her after she told you everything, huh, Jake?”

You didn’t wait to hear more, stepping into the hallway, Karina right behind you, her hand gentle on your back,“I’ve got you,” she whispered, “just breathe, okay?”

Behind the closed door, it only got worse, Jungwon’s voice only got louder as Jay tried to explain himself.

As the boys gathered to calm down Jungwon, they completely missed the way Jake got up and headed towards Jaemin. Only the sound of a loud crash got their attention—Jake’s fist connecting with Jaemin’s jaw. 

“You fucking asshole,” Jake snarled, his voice raw and broken. Another punch landed, his knuckles splitting open against Jaemin’s cheekbone. Blood smeared across his hand and dripped onto the floor. Heeseung and Sunghoon tried to pull him back, but Jake was swinging again, tears streaming down his face as he cried freely, angry and devastated all at once.

“Fucking get off me!” He shouted, his voice cracking between sobs, "this is your fault—all of it! You ruined everything!”

Furniture scraped against the floor. Someone yelled for them to stop, but it fell deaf to Jake’s ears. He kept swinging, his knuckles bleeding worse with every punch, tears falling fast down his cheeks, until Heeseung and Sunghoon finally managed to drag him back, both of them breathing hard.

Jaemin didn’t care much, he looked rather amused at the situation as Jeno tried to pull him up in furious whispers of urging him to stop being messy. 

Jake stood there in the middle of the mess, shoulders shaking, blood on his hands and tears still streaming from his bloodshot eyes. He looked completely destroyed.

And you? You didn’t look back.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: Salvation

So maybe you did jinx yourself for thinking everything was perfect. However, it made no sense to you, or to anyone for that matter. You weren’t an expert about feelings by any means, yet it was clear to anyone with working eyes that whatever you and Jake had was far from fake. 

Why couldn’t he say it? 

You knew the stakes, you came clean to him, and god knows you couldn’t be mad at him for telling you that it, in fact, started off because of a bit. But the silence hurt. 

“I love him,” you whispered, and Karina hugged you tighter at how raw the confession sounded. 

“I know,” she mumbled, “it’s okay, it’ll be okay.”

You stayed quiet for a while, letting her hold you. The numbness had settled deep, leaving you strangely serene even as your heart ached. There were no more tears left. Just this heavy, enthralling ache that refused to let go.

Karina eventually pulled back and brushed a strand of hair from your face, “I’m gonna make you some tea, okay? I’ll be right back, yeah?”

You nodded mutely and watched her head to the small kitchenette. The soft clink of the kettle and mugs filled the room as you sat there on the edge of the bed, staring at nothing. 

Karina was busy with the kettle as a knock came at the door, making her pause her ministrations. She walked over and opened the door just a crack, hoping it’d be Jungwon.

It was Jake.

He looked utterly destroyed. His eyes were bloodshot and had started to swell from crying, cheeks still damp with fresh tears. His knuckles were split open and bleeding, dark red smeared across his hand and the sleeve of his hoodie. He was breathing hard, like he’d run the entire way here without stopping.

Karina’s eyes widened in horror, “Jake—what the hell happened to your hands?”

He didn’t even look at her. His gaze was fixed past her shoulder, desperately searching for you, “please,” he said, his voice hoarse and broken. Without waiting, he slowly lowered himself to his knees right there in the hallway, bloody hands clasped in front of him, “please, Karina, just let me talk to her. I need her to know it was real, I’m begging you.”

Karina stood frozen for a long moment, clearly torn. She glanced back at you, then down at Jake kneeling on the floor, tears still slipping down his face, knuckles dripping blood onto the tiles.

She let out a heavy, reluctant sigh.

“I—come in,” she said quietly, stepping aside, “but if you make this any worse, I swear to God, Jake—”

Jake didn’t even stand up right away. He stayed on his knees for another heartbeat, bloody hands still clasped like he was praying, before he pushed himself up on shaky legs. God, his eyes—they were red-rimmed and glassy, the golden-boy sparkle completely shattered. He looked like he’d been run over by a truck and then backed over again for good measure.

Karina shot you one last warning glance before she slipped into the kitchenette, muttering something about giving you two five minutes and that she’d be right there with a knife if needed. The door to your room clicked shut behind her, leaving nothing but the sound of Jake’s ragged breathing and the faint drip of blood onto your floor.

You stayed rooted on the edge of the bed, arms wrapped tight around your middle like you could physically hold yourself together. Your heart was hammering so hard it hurt. A part of you wanted to scream at him to get the fuck out. The other part—the stupid, traitorous part that had fallen anyway—ached at the sight of him like this.

You swallowed hard, voice coming out sharper than you meant, “what the hell are you doing here, Jake? What now?”

Jake ran a shaky hand through his hair, smearing a thin streak of blood across his forehead, “I don’t know,” he groaned, “I really fucking don’t. You said all that shit after the game and I just—I just froze, okay? I punched Jaemin so hard I think I broke something, and it still didn’t make me feel better. Nothing did.”

You looked away, “so you came here?” 

“Yeah, I came here,” his voice was rough, frustrated. He took another step closer, boots scuffing the floor, “what else was I supposed to do? You just walked off, were my actions not enough for you, huh? I sat in my room staring at the wall like an idiot for an hour.”

You let out a sharp laugh, finally looking at him again, “oh, poor you. Must’ve been real hard.”

“Don’t,” he warned, “don’t do that. You told me you knew everything and you fell anyway. And then you just—left. What the fuck was I supposed to do with that?”

You stood up fast, arms dropping to your sides, “what did you expect? A hug? You started this whole thing. You came after me for a bet. I only played along to fuck you over and now look at us. I’m the dumbass who actually caught feelings, while you couldn’t even admit it in front of your friends.”

Jake’s jaw clenched so hard you saw the muscle jump, “I broke the bet off before the date, Y/N. Before I even took you out. That morning I told Jaemin I was done with the whole thing. He was just stirring shit tonight to fuck with both of us.”

You stared at him, the words hitting like a slap, “you—you what?”

“Yeah,” he whispered, “I ended it days ago. Because it wasn’t a game anymore, not for me. But you still think I was using you the whole time, don’t you?”

Your hands started shaking, “then why the fuck didn’t you tell me? You let me keep thinking it was all fake while I was falling for you like an idiot? While I was lying to my friends and to myself?”

“Because I was terrified!” His voice cracked, louder now, “I knew the second I said it out loud you’d look at me like this—like I’m the enemy. I didn’t want to lose you and I still fucking don’t. I’m in love with you, okay? Not for the bet or the stupid car.”

You shoved at his chest, hard, but your fingers stayed twisted in his hoodie at the confession. He loves you, and he was never once hesitant to show it till now, “you’re such a fucking coward, Jake.”

“I know,” he breathed, eyes glassy as he pressed closer, forehead almost touching yours, “I’m the biggest coward on campus. But I’m yours if you still want me.”

You yanked him down by the hoodie and pulled him into a deep kiss as Jake groaned into your mouth, hands sliding under your shirt, bloody knuckles rough against your skin, and you could taste the saltiness of his tears on his lips. 

“I love you,” he gasped right against your lips, the words spilling out shaky between kisses, “fuck, I love you—”

You whined into his mouth at how freely he said it now. Jake had always been truthful to his feelings, while you’d been insecure, which is why you couldn’t do much but kiss him back, hoping that it’ll show how you reciprocate the feelings. 

The sharp tang of blood hit your tongue when his injured knuckle brushed your jaw. You pulled back, breathing hard, eyes dropping to his right hand. Only that one knuckle was split open, still seeping a thin line of red.

“Jake,” you muttered, fingers wrapping around his wrist gently and turning it over, “you’re still bleeding.”

He tried to pull you back in, eyes dark and hazy, “don’t care—”

“I do.” You slid off his lap before he could argue, legs a little unsteady as you crossed to the shelf by your desk. Your hands shook slightly when you grabbed the antiseptic wipes, a small tube of ointment, and a strip of gauze. When you turned back he was still sitting on the edge of the bed exactly where you’d left him, watching you with this raw, open look that made your stomach twist in the deepest way—cause gosh, he looked beautiful.

You knelt between his thighs again and took his injured hand. The wipe stung when you pressed it to the cut. Jake hissed softly through his teeth but didn’t pull away. He just stared at your face like the sight of you taking care of him was something he couldn’t quite believe was real.

“You’re really doing this right now,” he said quietly. 

“Someone has to,” you whispered, dabbing the blood away carefully, then smoothing ointment over the split skin. Every small touch felt heavier than it should—the faint tremble in his fingers, the way your own heartbeat was slamming so hard against your ribs it felt like it was echoing in your throat. You wrapped the gauze around his knuckle slowly, and the quiet intimacy of it settled somewhere deep in your chest, warm and aching and terrifying all at once.

When you finished he caught your face with both hands and pulled you up into another kiss as if pouring every ounce of emotions he’d ever felt towards you, his lips slotting perfectly against yours, a bit messy with how reverent he was. He even wish to breathe anymore, just accepting the warmth of your mouth as a way to live. 

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he breathed against your mouth again, the words vibrating through you, “god, I love you so much it feels like it’s in my bones. Like every time I touch you I remember how close I came to losing this.”

You climbed back into his lap, straddling him, and kissed him harder, hips rolling once against the obvious hardness straining in his sweatpants. The friction made you both moan softly. His bandaged hand slid up your back under your shirt, palm warm against your spine, while the other cupped the back of your neck like he was scared you’d pull away.

He broke the kiss just enough to rest his forehead against yours, breathing ragged. His eyes were glassy, voice cracking when he spoke.

“Do you actually want me?” He whispered, lips brushing yours with every word, “not because we’re both fucked up right now. Just—tell me, if not i’ll just stop. Say it against my mouth, pleasw, I need to hear it.”

Your heart felt too big for your chest, a heavy, aching throb that matched the pulse between your legs. You leaned in until your lips touched his with every syllable.

“I want you,” you breathed right against him, “I want you so fucking bad, Jake. Just you—all of you.”

The second the words left your mouth you grabbed his bandaged right hand and pressed his palm flat to the center of your chest, right over your racing heart. His fingers spread wide, the gauze rough and warm against your skin, and Jake let out this low, broken groan that vibrated straight through you.

“Fuck—baby,” he rasped, eyes fluttering like he was barely holding it together, “for me?”

You’d seen how Jake got during intimate moments, but the way he was acting right now—breathing hard against your skin, you weren’t sure how much longer you’d be able to handle without confessing all your feelings for the pretty boy in front of you. The fact that he came running so soon, that he wished to clear things up, it was enough. Staying mad at him wasn’t ever a choice when every single cell within you yearned for him. 

“For you,” you whispered gently, eyes never leaving his face. 

He looked stunning to say the least, perhaps the prettiest crier you’ve ever laid your eyes upon. His face was flushed, this beautiful shade of red gracing it, and you couldn’t help but trace your thumb over his swollen lip, “you’re so pretty,” you whispered without thinking twice.   

In one smooth motion he flipped you both, laying you down on the bed and settling between your thighs, his body pressing you into the mattress. The sudden weight of him, the heat rolling off his skin, the way his pendant swung forward and rested cool against your clavicle—it made you shiver. You looked down and saw it, your initials, small and delicate on the silver chain around his neck, nestled right there against your skin.

A soft, involuntary moan slipped out of you.

Jake’s breath hitched hard against your neck, “you see it, baby?” He whispered, his lips—so fucking soft and plush, brushed your throat as he spoke, “got it the next day after our date, been wearing it since.”

“You’re crazy,” you managed to say, but your eyes were shining just as bright as his own, his usual smile stretching, making your heart race faster than usual. 

The proximity was maddening. His chest pressed flush to yours, heart hammering so hard you could feel it through his ribs. The heat of his body soaked into every inch of you, his breath hot and ragged on your neck. He took his time to take your scent in, shamelessly so, doing exactly what he couldn’t when he first talked to you, and swore he was rather drunk on it. 

He buried his face deeper into the curve of your neck and inhaled again, slow and shaky, like he was trying to memorize you, “fuck—wanted to do this when I first met you,” he mumbled, lips dragging along your pulse point, open-mouthed and wet.

You shivered hard, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging lightly, “then stop holding back now, Jake. Touch me.”

He groaned, “yeah? You want that?” His bandaged hand slipped under your shirt, palm hot and trembling as it cupped your breast, thumb brushing over your nipple until it tightened, “like this? Tell me if it’s good, baby. I need to hear you.”

“Feels so good,” you breathed, arching into his touch, “don’t be gentle. I want to feel how bad you want me.”

“Fuck,” he rasped, voice cracking, “I’m gonna show you how sorry I am. Gonna make you feel it with every fucking inch of me until you know I’m yours.” He pushed your shirt higher, mouth following right behind, kissing and sucking down your chest like he was starving, “god, look at you—so fucking pretty under me. Can I take this off? I need to see all of you, baby. Please?”

You nodded fast, lifting your arms. He peeled your shirt off and tossed it aside, then just stared, chest rising fast, “fuck—these tits. Been thinking about them every night.” His mouth latched onto one nipple, plush lips sucking slow and deep while his hand palmed the other one, thumb teasing the peak until you were squirming.

“Jaeyun—shit, that feels so good,” you moaned, back arching.

“Yeah? You like my mouth here?” he asked, switching sides, tongue swirling lazy circles. “Tell me, baby. I need to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“So good,” you whimpered, fingers tightening in his hair, “don’t stop.”

“Won’t stop,” he sighed in pleasure, sucking harder as his teeth grazed just enough to make you gasp, the pendant dragging cool over your skin with every move of his head. 

You couldn’t take it anymore. You pushed at his shoulders and flipped you both again, straddling his hips, grinding down slow and filthy against the hard line of his cock through his pants.

Jake’s eyes rolled back, a wrecked groan tearing out of him, “Jesus Christ—yeah, keep going, pretty.”

You leaned down, hair falling around both of you, and kissed him deep, tongue sliding against his, his fingers digging into the flesh of your waist, as if no amount of kissing could satiate his hunger. 

You pulled back just enough to look at him, lips still brushing and his eyes were blown wide, chest heaving under you. Holding his gaze, you gathered spit in your mouth, and let it drip slowly right onto his waiting tongue.

Jake’s whole body jerked hard beneath you. A wrecked, filthy moan tore out of his throat as the warm spit landed on his tongue. He didn’t even hesitate before swallowing it down with a shaky groan, then leaned right up and licked into your mouth like he was chasing the taste of you, tongue sliding against yours again, ever so messy and eager.

The absolute joy of being here, so free and filthy with Jake despite everything, had you getting freakier by second knowing damn well how Jake would be thrilled, and he did. He wasn’t sure what he’d do with himself if you didn’t accept his apology, or if you’d admit that it was a game to you. But seeing neither was the case, he had to take the next step—to show exactly how much he wanted you. 

“So dirty for me, huh?” He smirked, sucking on your tongue, “fucking perfect, you’re mine, yeah? Made for me.”

“Getting possessive already?” You chuckled deeply, licking up his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, confidence boosting by second at the sight of him shivering with your ministrations, “you like it when I spit in that pretty mouth of yours, Jake? 

He tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, gentle but playful, giving it a light pull before letting it go with a soft pop, “like it?” He murmured, eyes sparkling with that familiar mischief even now, “darling, I fucking love it. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted you to be this comfortable with me—this filthy.”

You grinned, rolling your hips down against the hard line of his cock, “then stop talking and do something about it.”

Jake clicked his tongue, rolling over so you were under him again, pinning you to the mattress with his weight, eyebrow cocked up, “bossy tonight, aren’t you?” He teased, lips brushing yours as he spoke.

You traced your finger up his spine, grabbing the hair on his nape with a tug that had him groaning, “why wouldn’t I be? You’re mine now, aren’t you?” You challenged. 

“Claiming me now, hm? Not mad anymore?” He caught your wrist, pinning it beside your head with his bandaged hand while his other slid down to grip your thigh, spreading you wider under him. 

The weight of him was heavenly, you could feel the faint ridges of his abs through his hoodie, the way his heart was slamming against your ribs like it was trying to reach you. His pendant swung forward, cool metal kissing your skin right between your breasts, and the sight of your own initials resting there made you whine yet again. 

“Want me to be mad?” You pecked his neck, “want me to go ask someone else to please me—”

Jake’s head snapped up so fast it was almost comical, “you fucking dare say that again,” he almost groaned, his grip on your thigh tightening, fingers digging in like he needed to remind himself you were really here, “don’t even joke about that shit, the thought of someone else even looking at you the way I do makes me want to lose my fucking mind.”

You blinked up at him, surprised by how quickly the jealousy hit, “Jake—”

“No,” He he you off, voice rough as he shoved your shorts and panties down your legs in one impatient yank, the fabric tearing slightly at the seam. He didn’t care. He tossed them off the bed and settled between your thighs like he belonged there, his big nose brushing the sensitive skin of your inner thigh as he inhaled deep, shameless.

“Fuck,” he muttered, eyes locked on how wet you were, “you’re actually dripping. All this for me, just for me, hm?”

You tried to answer, but the words died in your throat when he dragged two fingers through your folds, spreading the wetness before pushing them inside you in one smooth thrust. The stretch made your back arch off the bed with a sharp gasp.

“Jake—”

“Yeah?” He curled his fingers deep right away, thumb brushing your clit in slow circles. His nose rubbed against your inner thigh as he leaned in closer, breath hot against your pussy, “keep talking. I wanna hear what you wanna say while my fingers are buried in you like this.”

You clenched around him, hips rolling up to chase the feeling, absolutely enamoured with how possessive he was—maybe that’s what you wanted, him claiming you so freely, “you’re so fucking jealous,” you managed, half-laugh, half-moan, “god—I fucking love you.”

It didn’t take much for you to say it, but to Jake, it was everything. 

His fingers froze deep inside you for a split second. Then he yanked them out so fast you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, but before you could even protest he was surging up your body, cupping your face with both hands, thumbs pressing into your cheeks as he stared down at you like you’d just knocked the air out of his lungs.

“Say it again,” he demanded, chest heaving and eyes wild.

“I love you, Jaeyun,” you whispered, looking straight in his eyes. 

“Fuck—I love you too,” he managed to say desperately, he crushed his mouth to yours, kissing you like he was trying to crawl inside your skin, “i needed to hear that.”

He pressed open mouthed kisses all over your torso, only stopping to take his hoodie off in a go, revealing the faint lines of his abs and the light scatter of freckles across his shoulders. The sight of him all flushed, made heat flood between your legs even more.

He slid back down your body fast, shoving your thighs apart wider. He hooked one of your legs over his shoulder, opening you up even more, his big nose brushed your inner thigh as he inhaled deep and shameless. “Fuck, you smell so good when you’re this turned on,” he groaned, then dragged his tongue in one long, filthy stripe up your pussy, moaning loud when he tasted you, “mine, hm.”

His nose rubbed firm and perfect against your clit as he licked, the pressure making your hips jerk.

“Jake—godd,” you gasped, fingers twisting in his hair.

He looked up at you, lips shiny, eyes dark, “yeah? You like my mouth on you?” He sucked your clit into his mouth, fingers pushing back inside you, curling just right, “tell me, baby, I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel while I eat this pretty pussy.”

“So good,” you moaned, thighs shaking around his head, “your nose—right there, it feels so fucking good rubbing my clit like that.”

He caressed the soft flesh of your inner thighs with his veiny hand, thumb stroking back and forth.

Placing open mouthed kisses on it made it worse (better), and you twitched hard.

Jake’s eyes flicked up to yours, lips curving into a filthy little smirk, “oh? Sensitive here?” He dragged his teeth along the inside of your thigh, then sucked hard, leaving a dark mark right where his thumb had been stroking, “fuck, I love that. Gonna mark every spot that makes you shake for me, yeah? My good fucking girl.”

He didn’t give you time to recover. He buried his face between your legs again, eyes never leaving your face, and just how perfect you looked shaking for him, memorizing every bit of it. 

He sucked harder, fingers pumping faster, nose pressing firm and relentless. “Mhm, cum for me, baby. Let me taste how much you want me right now.”

You came hard, thighs clamping around his head as you cried out his name, pulsing around his fingers while he kept licking and sucking you through it, moaning like your orgasm was the best thing he’d ever tasted.

He didn’t stop until you were whimpering and pushing weakly at his shoulders, over-sensitive and trembling.

Only then did he crawl back up your body, kissing you deep so you could taste yourself on his tongue. His cock was straining hard against his pants, the front completely soaked with pre-cum.

You reached down and palmed him through the fabric. “Take these off,” you said, voice hoarse, “I want to see you. All of you.”

Jake sat back on his heels, eyes locked on yours the whole time as he shoved his pants and boxers down his hips, keeping it on the side. His cock sprang free, thick, flushed dark, and leaking at the tip. He wrapped his veiny hand around it and gave himself one slow stroke, watching your reaction.

“Better?” He asked, a smirk tugging at his swollen lips even as his chest still heaved, “this what you wanted?”

You bit your lip, heat flooding through you at the sight of him so flushed and bare, freckles standing out across his nose and shoulders, faint abs flexing with every breath, cock heavy in his hand.

“Better,” you breathed, sitting up just a little, reaching out to wrap your fingers around his thick length. 

He let out a shaky laugh that turned into a groan when you stroked him slowly from base to tip, thumb swiping over the leaking head, “love your hand, so fucking pretty,” he mumbled, hips twitching forward into your fist, “been hard for you for so long it hurts. C’mon, get on your back, baby, I need to be inside you.”

You lay back, spreading your legs for him. Jake settled between them, rubbing the thick head of his cock up and down your soaked folds, coating himself in your wetness, being thick enough that the first push made your breath catch.

“Easy,” he murmured, voice strained as he pressed in slowly, making you feel every inch he gave you, “you’re so tight—fuck, just breathe for me. I’ve got you.”

It took time. He worked himself in with shallow thrusts, letting you adjust to the stretch, his jaw clenched tight, sweat already beading on his flushed chest. When he finally bottomed out, buried to the hilt, the fullness made your eyes flutter shut and a broken moan slip out of you.

“Shit, Jaeyun you’re so deep,” you gasped, nails digging into his shoulders.

He stayed still for a moment, forehead pressed to yours, breathing hard, “you feel so fucking good,” he groaned, “like you were made for me. Tell me when you’re ready.”

You rolled your hips experimentally and moaned, “yeah, yeah—please.”

He started slow, deep rolls of his hips that dragged against every sensitive spot inside you, building the pace slowly with steadier strokes that made your back arch and your moans louder. Every thrust pushed the air out of your lungs, the wet slap of skin on skin filling the room.

“God, look at you taking me,” he panted, eyes locked on where you were stretched around him, “so pretty and full of my cock.”

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, “harder, Jake. I can take it.”

He groaned and gave you exactly what you asked for, hips snapping faster, the pendant with your initials swinging between your breasts with every thrust. His veiny hand slid down to rub your clit, drawing eights on them. 

You were moaning his name, right on the edge, when you suddenly pushed at his chest, “wait—I want to ride you.”

Jake didn’t hesitate, in fact, he was already drooling at the image of your pretty tits jiggling right in front of him. He flipped onto his back, pulling you on top of him in one smooth motion. You straddled his lap and sank down onto his cock in one go, both of you moaning loudly at the new angle.

“Fuck—ride me, baby,” he groaned, hands gripping your hips as you started moving. His thumbs brushed your nipples, pinching and rolling them while you bounced on his thick length, “so fucking pretty riding my cock like you own it.”

You leaned forward, pressing your chest to his, and started sucking dark hickeys into the side of his neck, right below his jaw, “I do own it, baby.”

Jake’s head fell back, a low moan escaping him as you marked him up.

“You do, just you” he panted, one hand sliding up to cup the back of your neck, holding you against him while the other kept playing with your nipple, “want everyone to see I’m yours.”

He reached blindly to the side, grabbing his discarded pants. From the pocket he pulled out a delicate silver pendant—his initials engraved on it. He had planned on asking you out properly before Jaemin fucked it up, but he didn’t plan on waiting anymore, caressing your neck as he clasped it around you, letting it sit beautifully on your clavicle. 

“Wear this for me,” he said, voice rough as he watched it bounce  lightly with every roll of your hips. The cool metal rested against your overheated skin, a constant little shock that made you shiver, “now say it. Say you’re mine while you’re riding my cock.”

You sat up straighter, rolling your hips deep, warmth blooming inside you at how beautiful the small accessory was, “I’m yours, Jake,” you moaned, looking down at him, “all yours.”

His eyes rolled back for a second, hands tightening on your hips as he helped you ride him harder. “That’s my girl,” he groaned, thumb still playing with your nipple, “keep saying it. I wanna hear it every time you sink down on me, baby.”

You pressed your face into his neck again, sucking another mark there as you rode him faster, both of you lost in each other, sweaty and desperate and finally, completely real.

Jake’s grip on your hips turned bruising, fingers digging in as he thrust up to meet every roll of your body.

“Fuck—baby, I’m so close,” he panted, voice ragged, eyes half-lidded and wild, “I should pull out, shit, I didn’t even ask—”

You shook your head fast, nails digging into his shoulders as you kept riding him, “It’s a safe day,” you gasped, lips brushing his, “I want you inside. Don’t pull out, please.”

Jake’s breath hitched hard, like the words alone almost broke him, “I can’t ever deny you anything, my love,” he groaned, “not when you ask me like that.”

He slammed up into you twice, burying himself deep as he came with a wrecked moan of your name, loud enough to reverberate, hips jerking as he spilled hot and thick inside you. The feeling of him pulsing, filling you, pushed you over right after—you clenched around him hard, thighs shaking, a broken cry of his name leaving your lips.

For a long moment you both just stayed there, trembling. Jake didn’t pull out, wrapping both arms around you and flipping you gently onto your back so he could hover over you, still buried deep, bodies pressed together with no space left. His chest heaved against yours, sweat-slick skin sticking, heartbeat slamming so hard you could feel it through your ribs.

He didn’t speak at first. He just looked at you, eyes glassy and a little wide like he still couldn’t believe this was real. Then he started kissing every mark he’d left on you tonight—the dark bruise on your inner thigh, the ones on your neck, the one just above your breast. Each kiss was slow, open-mouthed, his nose caressing your skin, warm breath fanning over the fresh hickeys like he was memorizing them with his mouth.

You carded your fingers through his damp hair, letting him take his time.

“I was so ready to beg on my knees tonight if that’s what it took,” he finally whispered against your collarbone, “don’t ever make me do that again.”

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, still a little dazed, “I wouldn’t mind seeing you on your knees, actually.”

Jake lifted his head, eyes meeting yours, he leaned in and pecked your lips once, letting it linger before he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed like he needed the contact more than air.

“Brat,” he murmured, the word warm and fond against your mouth, but the way he said it was so full of quiet, desperate attachment it made your chest tighten. He stayed like that, still inside you, arms wrapped around you, one hand gently stroking up and down your back while the other traced lazy circles over the pendant now warm against your skin. 

“I love you,” he finally said, cupping your cheek. 

“I love you,” you smiled, letting him be as clingy as he wanted to be. 

“Wanna make a bet?” Jake asked, eyes gleaming as you raised your brow. 

You laughed under your breath, thumb brushing his bottom lip. “Depends. What are we betting on this time?”

He grinned, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, “that I’ll spend the rest of my life proving this was the best bad idea we ever had.”

You smiled against his lips, pretending to think which only made him whine further. But maybe, this one was worth spending time over. 

“Bet.”

MEANWHILE: 

Jay was repenting for Jake’s sins, staring up at Jungwon, who still appeared to be dissatisfied, half pressed against the man who kept on mumbling, “sorry, Wonie. I’m sorry Jungwonie, please?”

Jungwon only huffed, arms crossed tight even as Jay clung to him like an oversized koala, “you knew about the whole stupid bet and didn’t say a word. I had to watch my best friend get emotionally waterboarded for weeks.”

“I tried to stop it!” Jay whined, nuzzling his face into Jungwon’s shoulder, “I told Jake it was a terrible idea at least thirteen times—”

“Fourteen,” Sunghoon and Heeseung deadpanned from the couch.

Jaemin, already sprawled in the armchair rocking a fresh black eye and split lip, let out a smug little snort, “relax, you babies. I was trying to get them together.”

Jeno, sitting on the floor looking two seconds from committing murder, dragged a hand down his face, “they didn’t even fucking know each other, Jaemin.”

Jaemin shrugged, completely unfazed, “but I saw the bigger picture.”

Heeseung threw a pillow at his head, “there were better ways, you absolute menace.”

Jaemin dodged it with a grin, “yeah, but none as entertaining.” He popped a chip in his mouth and asked casually, “now who do I do next?”

The entire room exploded at once.

“No.”

“Fuck no.”

“Touch another person and I’m punching you this time.”

“I swear to God, Jaemin—”

Jaemin just laughed, raising his hands like he was innocent, “fine. Jay’s next.”

The poor guy looked up in horror. 

“Absolutely the fuck not,” Jungwon snapped, yanking Jay behind him like a human shield who only blushed at the display of power, “you stay the hell away from him, Jaemin. End of discussion.”

Safe to say, everything was going to be okay. 

THANK YOU FOR READING

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my roommate just left

you read the text on your phone. you thought about all your possible options. you considered completely abandoning the errands you had on your to-do list. but if you didn’t get them done now, you never would. you knew that each time you saw sungchan it was an all day affair. so you didn’t send a text back until you threw your laundry in the dryer and cleaned the rest of the dishes.

be there in twenty minutes.

okay baby i’ll leave the door unlocked.

you would have to chide him later for calling you baby. sungchan liked to play with you in that way. he’d purposely ignore the rules you both set from the beginning of your arrangement. sometimes you think he liked it when you got frustrated with him, when you’d be a little mean and tell him what to do and what not to do. that’s how most guys his height were. the size and muscle was just for show, he liked being bossed around. 

sungchan also had the habit of calling you pet names in efforts to get you attached. he wanted you to be caught in the middle of being his girlfriend and friend, all the benefits but none of the work. you didn’t know much about sungchan’s life outside your arrangement with him, but you could tell he hasn’t been told no very much. you enjoyed the fact that he couldn’t get you hung up on him. once you realized it wasn’t so much about being your boyfriend but more-so you being his, denying him the right to call you pet names outside of the bedroom became satisfying. you showed up ten minutes later than when you said you would. setting up false expectations made you feel powerful, especially when he answers the door with his signature pouty face. 

seeing him lean against the doorframe trying to be casual about you showing up late made you smile.

“what’s so funny?” sungchan said, crossing him arms.

“nothing,” you say. you cross your arms too. “you gonna let me in?”

you don’t have to say anything else for sungchan to move out of the way. you walk into his apartment like you own the place, you seem to be there more than his elusive roommate. you think you’ve heard his name once but you haven’t seen his face at all. that didn’t bother you too much. the less people that knew about you and sungchan the better. 

“want some water? i made food too if you want some.” sungchan says. 

you can see the dishes piled in the sink. you shake your head, taking off your coat. sungchan is behind you in an instant, taking the jacket from you.

you and sungchan eventually end up on his couch. every time you come over you guys do this. it’s a routine; one you both are very dedicated to. you sit on the couch and he sits next to you on the other end. sungchan always extends his arm out along the back of the couch and you move over to this side. he puts his arm around you, and pulls you in closer. he picks a show, one that you both have had to restart a million times. eventually sungchan’s other arm finds its way on your body. he uses his hand to tilt your face towards his. he looks at with his big brown puppy eyes, mainly looking at your lips. you shamelessly look at his. when you move his hand to your hips he knows you’re ready.

sungchan moves you to straddle his lap with ease. you don’t mind the routine you have with sungchan. he’s tall, strong, handsome, and the perfect amount of ruinous. the amount where he’s a perfect person to have no strings attached hookups with while not having to worry about him violating the rules you set with him. except for the pet names. but you let it slide when you feel his hot tongue on your neck and when he whispers in your ear.

“i want you so bad, baby.” he says. 

you pull away and he gives you a big grin. the sarcastic toothy one, the one that tells you he knows he’s being defiant. 

you puts your hands on his knees and lean your body to one side. he still has your hands on your hips. another thing you liked about sungchan was that he didn’t know his own strength. he was so desperate with his grip on you that you could feel his fingers close to prodding your hip bones. you looked at sungchan, smiling that same toothy grin back at him.

“i’m your baby?” you ask innocently. 

sungchan nods immediately, his vice grip moving to your ass.

“can we go to your room?” you ask.

sungchan moves and you get ready to hop off the couch to follow him. instead, sungchan lifts your body over his shoulder and stands up from the couch. it happens so fast you let out a yelp when you’re hoisted into the air like you weigh nothing. you slap his back for picking you up so suddenly and in response he smacks your ass.

sungchan opens the door to his room and doesn’t waste a beat to throw you on his bed. it was moments like these that made you wonder why sungchan wanted you to be so bossy to him. he demonstrated his strength often but each time it surprised you. it took almost nothing for him to to toss and throw you, yet he was always hanging on your every word, every command.

“wasn’t that fun?” sungchan giggles at your shocked state.

you straighten your hair and clothes, trying to not look so jostled. when you move to the edge of the bed to take off your pants, sungchan joins you. he sits on the edge of the bed with you and starts kissing your neck. with a hand on his shoulder you brings him closer into your neck. his hand is over your center, cupping over the fabric that covers it. sungchan nips at your neck and then laughs when you let out a sigh.

“so jumpy babe.” sungchan sucks on your collarbone, moving your shirt down. 

“take it off for me.” you say, lifting your arms up. 

sungchan breaks away from your neck to help you out of your top. when the shirt is covering your head you can hear something outside, sounding like a lock clicking. as fast as the sound happens it’s out of your mind. sungchan doesn’t seem to notice either, too focused on getting you undressed. the shirt is halfway over your head when you see sungchan’s door swing open. through the fabric of the shirt you can see a tall figure stand in the doorway.

“sungchan you just can’t leave the dish—“ 

you knew who the voice belonged to without seeing him, you just couldn’t believe it. but when your shirt came all the way off, you couldn’t stop the confusion and shock from taking over your voice.

“eunseok?” you said.

you could hear a pen drop in the room. the silence was deafening. no one spoke until eunseok pointed a finger to you.

“this is the girl you were talking about?” eunseok looks over your body once before looking at sungchan.

you couldn’t stop looking at eunseok. you assumed sungchan was looking between the two of you trying to figure out the connection.

“you know eachother?” sungchan said. he looked at your shocked face, surprised that this is what renders you speechless. 

eunseok looks at you, checking to see if you will say anything. he looks at sungchan and lets out a tense breath.

“remember the girl from last summer?” eunseok says with his eyes closed. 

it was like a lightbulb went off over sungchan’s head. his eyes widen and you can feel his eyes burning in the side of your face.

“this is your ex?” sungchan puts his hand over his mouth. at the mentioning of ex you snap out of your shock.

“we were never together.” you say quickly. 

it’s true and not true at the same time. a situationship would be a better word to call it. you met eunseok through a mutual friend. quickly it became something you’d describe as physical but somewhere along the way it became romantic. eventually you were calling him your boyfriend despite him never asking or deserving that title. you gave yourself grace, you were young and horny and somewhat in love. you were able to break it off with eunseok before you got too hurt or too attached. ironically, your situation with eunseok was used as an example when you came up with the rules for your arrangement with sungchan.

“you called me your man all the time.” eunseok says back to you. “does she call you her man?” eunseok asks, pointing to sungchan now. you can feel your face getting hot. you are suddenly very aware of how you are barely clothed in front of your ex situationship and current hookup.

“she barely calls me sungchan.” he says, looking at you. eunseok laughs and leans against the doorframe.

“oh so you’re not good in bed?” eunseok asks sungchan. eunseok has a slight pout, like he’s pondering something. eunseok asked the question innocently, but you can feel the tension in the air go up ten notches. before you can tell eunseok it’s none of his business, sungchan speaks.

“she hasn’t ghosted me, so i know i’m better than you.” sungchan says nonchalantly. 

he leans back on the bed, tracing a hand on the opposite side of your body before he slightly pulls you into him. eunseok laughs, and walks towards you on the bed. you look up to him with wide eyes and he looks down at you. his hand goes to your cheek and you think about how you’ve been in this position with eunseok before, waiting for his next move.

“she ghosted me because it was too good right baby?” eunseok taps his index finger on your cheek. you can feel sungchan pull you into him more. “after the first time your were clinging to me like a little lost puppy.”

you wish you could deny the man that stands before you. but you recall the first time you had sex with him, the nonchalant guy who you had to make the first move on. you had no control over your actions anymore as you thought about the night he drew orgasm after orgasm out of you. just with eunseok’s hand on your cheek you remember all the fun you had with him, how he made you the most submissive you’ve ever been for a man. he was right that you ended things because it was too good, afraid that he would end up doing you worse than if you were alone. leaving him was the hardest decision you ever made, having to block him for your own sanity. when you nod your head yes to eunseok you can feel sungchan next to you stiffen.

“so mean baby. in front of your new fuck buddy too?” eunseok says. you turn to sungchan and see that he’s staring at eunseok now.

“she’s here for me eunseok. not you.” sungchan has his hand over your shoulder.

“you’re gonna be thinking about me the whole time aren’t you sweetheart?” eunseok still has his hand on your face. he looks like a dream in front of you. you try to gain your bearings, trying to sound confident.

“n-no. i’m with sungchan.” your accept that in your current situation a stutter can’t be controlled. 

eunseok uses his finger to tap on your chin, and you feel yourself instinctually wanting to open your mouth. usually in this position eunseok would press his the pad of his thumb on your tongue, or to stick his index finger into your mouth. you figured he liked seeing you gag on him.

“who’s bigger?” eunseok says. 

he talks to you in the voice he had when he wanted you to obey him, the one that made you always squirm when you had flashbacks to it. you can feel sungchan’s solid body next to you and you shake your head.

“i don’t know.” you say with wide eyes.

“who made you feel the best?” sungchan says.

sungchan speaking made you snap his head towards him. his angry expression towards eunseok is replaced with that smile, the one that made you know it was going to be a long day. you look to eunseok and then sungchan again. sungchan moves his hand to your head to tilt it, giving him access to your exposed neck.

“i-i don’t remember.” you stutter.

eunseok gets on his knees in front of you. you draw in a breath as he comes closer and closer to you. he uses his hands on the inside of your knees to push them apart. sungchan starts kissing your neck.

“what about i remind you?” eunseok says, slowly lowering his head. 

he looks you in your eyes one last time, waiting for your permission to continue. you nod your head as sungchan starts sucking harshly on your neck to leave a mark. eunseok ducks his head down to your heat and you don’t know what to do feeling two pairs of hands on you. sungchan moves behind you and brings your back to his chest. his hands feel you up, tweaking your nipples and caressing your hair while eunseok pushes your thighs apart.

“oh my god.” you moan feeling eunseoks familiar tongue on you. eunseok laughs and looks up past you, to make eye contact with sungchan.

“you remember now?” eunseok says “because she hasn’t forgotten.” eunseok says into your heat. 

your head lulls back against sungchan shoulder. he uses the opportunity to kiss your cheek. sungchan makes a show of playing with your boobs, like he is mocking eunseok for not having this type of access to you. eunseok responds by sucking on your clit. he brings a finger into your heat, pumping in and out quickly. you whimper pitifully, trying to hold onto anything to ground yourself.

“eunseok.” you say.

“i know,” he mockingly coos into your heat. “hold her tight.” he says to sungchan. 

eunseok picks up the pace and sungchan uses one arm to wrap around your body, caging your arms at your side. the inability to move heightens the sensation. you are aware that you’re now at the mercy of two large men and it makes you feel lightheaded. eunseok pulls you forward causing you to slip from a little from sungchan’s grip. sungchan gathers you up again and eunseok shoots him a look because he’s pulling you away from him. eunseok leans forward onto the bed to keep in contact with your clitoris.

“you gonna cum on his face?” sungchan asks into your hair. 

you nod and turn your head to face sungchan. he looks at you with hooded eyes and you can feel him twitch against your back. you must’ve been too focused on sungchan because eunseok loses his patience and pulls away to quickly slap your vagina. you yell in sungchan’s face but his expression doesn’t change. if anything his eyes become even more hooded at your unregulated action. sungchan starts to creep his hand down but before he can your releasing yourself over eunseok’s face. eunseok keeps you clean, licking up every drop of evidence that you came. he stands up from the floor and wipes his face with the back of his hand.

“you remember now?” eunseok says smirking.

before you can nod, you feel sungchan flip you over so you’re on all fours. you look at eunseok from the new angle, upside down as you look at him from under your body. eunseok is replaced with sungchan as he bumps the other to the side. sungchan pushes you forward on the bed and you crawl trying to make room for him. sungchan is behind you, covering his digits in spit.

“watch this.” sungchan says to eunseok. 

sungchan gathers saliva in his mouth before spitting on your pussy. the impact has your stretching your arms out on the bed and going more into an arch. when sungchan lightly smacks your pussy you bring covers to your face to muffle your whine. when you peer down between your legs you see sungchan look to eunseok as they bask in your reaction. you can’t help but moan at the sight, seeing your two men try so hard to outperform the other. they hide their desperation under the guise of competition, but you know them. whoever you choose to be the ‘loser’ of tonight will think about it for the rest of their life, sulking around their shared apartment. it doesn’t matter to you who you pick, it will probably be determined purely on chance. it doesn’t matter because you are absolutely winning when sungchan puts his index finger inside of you.

“she likes it messy.” sungchan says matter-of-factly. 

eunseok scoffs at sungchan attempting to know you but works with sungchan to feel you up. both of their big hands roam the expanse of your body, eunseok spreadsingyour folds while sungchan fingers you. you put your hand behind you, grasping at nothing. eunseok gives you his hand and you hold it tight.

sungchan increases his speed as he places a sloppy kiss to your ass cheek. you squeeze eunseok’s hand when sungchan slaps the same place he kissed. you lurch forward but sungchan uses his arm to hold you place while he ravages you. it’s a mess to say the least, you can feel slick and spit roll down the back of your thighs. even though sungchan was messy, it usually wasn’t to this extent. he was determined to be the complete opposite of eunseok. you feel his hand pinch your clit and you let out a cry into the blanket.

“you’re gonna let him do that to you?” eunseok says. 

“mhm.” you whine into the blanket.

“he always talks about how you boss him around, but look at you now.” eunseok coos. 

at some point eunseok moved from beside sungchan to sit next to you on the bed. eunseok’s clothes were gone now too, but he didn’t touch himself. he used his hands to push hair out of your face and to rub your cheek. 

“so fucking docile.” sungchan murmurs before going back to your pussy. 

sungchan competes with you to drown out your moans with slurping sounds as he sloppily eats you out. the sound drives you crazy, and when sungchan slaps your ass again you come undone. eunseok holds your hands as you come in sungchan’s mouth, thighs twitching and you bucking backwards to grind on his tongue.

you let your body slide forward on the bed, two orgasms sucked out of you. the most you’ve ever done in one sitting was three, but you already feel spent from the never ending energy of the two competing men. you have a fleeting moment where you want to tell them to stop and decide the winner then and there but you want to see this through. you can already feel the anticipation building up again when eunseok guides you to to lay your back on the bed.

eunseok slots himself in between your legs and sungchan gets off the bed. you can hear clothes being removed and being thrown somewhere in the room. eungchan sits by your side, rubbing your arm. eunseok puts both your ankles behind his head. he uses an arm to straighten your legs, and brings his dick to your heat. you can feel the tip prodding at your entrance. you look at eunseok, waiting for him to fuck you and make up for lost time.

“what’s the safe word?” eunseok asks.

you look at sungchan and then eunseok. he givese you a withholding look, one that tells you that you won’t be getting anything until you answer him. you close your eyes.

“hibiscus” you say quietly.

“same word, huh?” eunseok laughs looking at sungchan’s expression. you hide your face in embarrassment but they are pulled away by sungchan.

“don’t hide, need to see you.” sungchan says and for the first time the two can agree on something. eunseok stares at you as he slides in, previous orgasms letting him bottom out with ease. you struggle to take it. your mouth opens with a silent whine.

“oh i know.” eunseok says. 

eunseok slowly drags out and the way your thighs are pushed together makes you feel every ridge. you dig your nails into sungchan’s hand, feeling like your getting split open. eunseok puts his spare hand on your tummy, pressing hard as he pushes back in.

“you feel me?” eunseok asks, laughing at your fucked out expression.

“so big.” you whimper.

“told you.” eunseok says to sungchan.

eunseok grabs your hand from sungchan’s grasp and puts it on your stomach where it was previously. he keeps his hand over yours and pulls you closer to the edge of the bed and you move without resistance. the palm of his hand overlaps the back of yours while he intertwines your fingers.

“missed your pussy.” eunseok says. you moan in response.

the gentle deep strokes turns to something faster. the pace causes your thighs to press together and slap against eunseok’s skin. your boobs move in tandem with his thrusts, you slowly begin losing your mind all over again. eunseok’s hand squeezes yours and you feel sungchan’s pair of hands return to your body. his touches are light as a feather, grazing over every part of your body. you can feel his fingertips run over your chest, your stomach, nose, everything. you feel sungchan all over you and you feel eunseok inside of you. 

“i missed your dick.” you say.

“oh i know sweetheart. i know.” eunseok says. he’s having trouble understanding what you say to him at this point. he’s getting lost in you, thinking about how sungchan has been fucking you this whole time. eunseok debates on giving you a baby, one that looks like him so you’ll never forget him. 

he opts to finish on your stomach, pulling out after he rubs your clit until your thighs close around his hand. high pitched squeaks fall from your mouth and eunseok can see slick glisten as it comes from you. you shake and then it subsides. eunseok swipes his finger down your slit and sucks on the digit, trying to remember until he can taste you again

you see sungchan looking over you when you come down from your high. a smile plays on his lips when he pinches your cheek. you are too exhausted to stop him, shaky hands still holding onto eunseok’s.

“you got one more in you? for me?” sungchan asks. 

his hand drifts down to your clit. instead of pinching it like he did before, he does a soft revolution. you’re guessing he does it to gauge your reaction, how sensitive you truly are. you squirm underneath his touch, and you hear eunseok gasp when you clench around his sensitive dick. eunseok pulls out and you look up to sungchan with pleading eyes. you don’t know what you’re begging for, but you still feel insatiable despite being three orgasms in. 

“i think you got one more in ya.” sungchan says.

he flips you over, putting you back in a doggy position. you hear eunseok scoff behind you, but you’re so focused on what sungchan is going to do to you that you don’t spare eunseok a glance. you think it’s about the position, eunseok asking sungchan if he’s a one trick pony. you almost object when you hear sungchan tell eunseok he can ask you later about all his other tricks.

sungchan’s hand splays across your lower back, helping your sweaty body go into a deeper arch. sungchan wastes no time putting a finger inside of you. a moan rips through you and you lean backwards, trying to grind on his digits.

just as quick as his fingers are inside of you, he pulls them out. sungchan uses his two hands on your ass to spread you and push you forward. you let yourself glide down on the bed, your lower half getting closer and closer to the sheets.

“lay across eunseok, baby.” sungchan says behind you. 

you have nothing left in you to tell him you aren’t his baby. maybe you are at this point. regardless, you listen to his request and immediately let your lower half drape across eunseok’s thighs. this angle helps you keep your ass elevated than the rest of your body and eunseok has a hand on your body to help maintain that arch. you look up at eunseok, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. he looks at you, then looks at your pussy. his eyes are dark as he looks at your womanhood, puffy and sensitive.

“such a good girl.” eunseok purrs. you nod your head, happy at to get the approval.

“don’t forget to say my name, okay?” sungchan says. you can hear the smirk behind his snide comment.

sungchan gets close to your body, so close that you can feel his shirt slightly touching your back. you think he has taken it off when you no longer feel it grazing your skin but you just see he has taken the bottom of his shirt and put it in his mouth. something about it is so hot, he want to fuck you so bad and has been so caught up in his stupid little competition he hasn’t even thought to get himself undressed. you think it’s a shame, you love seeing his chiseled body he hides with baggy clothes. but something is equally as intoxicating as only being able to get a peak of his body through the tiny portion of his shirt he has lifted up. you can see only a little bit of his abs, sleek from sweat. you think about how badly you want to touch his body when he uses his hand to guide himself into you. you’re no longer making sounds you recognize, letting out something between a moan and a cry when you feel how deep sungchan is reaching inside of you. 

he’s relentless, clapping his front against your ass. each time he bottoms out he grinds inside of you. you’re seeing white when he picks up the speed, moving his hips languidly into you. sungchan comes close pressing his body to you. you can feel how solid he is against you beneath the shirt. he comes all the way to your ear, taking your earlobe into his mouth and laving his hot tongue around the area.

“you like it don’t you, sweetheart?” he whispers into your ear. 

nothing comes out of your mouth except for drool. it gets on eunseok’s legs as he watches sungchan fuck you.

“you usually have so much to say, honey.” sungchan says. 

he kisses your cheek and you strain your neck so he can kiss more of you.

“such a cutie.” sungchan giggles as he pulls back his hips. “can you say my name?”

“s-sungchan.” you pull together the last of your bearing to say his name. 

sungcahn picks up the speed, fucking you into the mattress. you hold onto the sheets and you manage to perk your ass up even more. you’re so close and sungchan knows it, bringing a hand to your neck. he doesn’t squeeze, only placing it there as a reminder. it drives you crazy, knowing he has the power to close his hand around your neck. sungchan looks over to eunseok, watching you two like a hawk.

“say my name again.”

“sungchan.” you moan. you say his name a thousand more times as you cum around him, fourth orgasm making you see stars and leaves you shaking like a leaf. you are in space as your orgasm washes over you. sungchan’s thrust get sloppy quickly as he finishes too. he says your name mixed in with the petnames you chastise him for and his sweat seeps through his shirt, making your back even more sweaty.

sungchan is still inside of you when you relax on eunseok’s legs. you try to fight sleep, but the decreasing rate of his heart and steady breaths slowly tells you to close your eyes. you are spent in every sense of the word, going to sleep with sungchan still inside of you.

“eunseok,” sungchan whispers, trying not to wake you up. eunseok looks from his spot on the bed to your sleeping face “is she asleep?”

eunseok nods his head. 

sungchan sighs contently, slightly lifting you so he can pull out. sungchan watches eunseok slip out from under you and leave the room. sungchan carefully moves your body to lay on the bed next to him. he looks at your serene face and moves hair out of the frame of your face, kissing your forehead. sungchan tries to catch his breath, mind still reeling from the last couple hours. he’s enjoying his alone time with you when eunseok comes back into the room with a warm rag. the two work together to wipe you down, you wake up in a daze when they reach your core.

“it’s sensitive.” you sleepily whine.

“shhh go back to sleep.” the two men say in unison. they look at each other and the air becomes competitive again. sungchan gets the urge to draw you a bath and eunseok suddenly wants to cook you a three course meal for when you inevitably wake up hungry.

they continue wiping you down and they sungchan tucks you in. they close sungchan’s door behind them and they sit on the couch in the living room while you rest. eunseok and sungchan falls into their usual roommate routine. sungchan presses play on another show and eunseok grabs a drink from the fridge. the two sit in silence for a moment, then eunseok turns towards sungchan.

Knowing that you wouldn’t have been in this position if you had acted differently a few months ago makes scrolling through her Instagram feed hurt even more.

You shouldn’t be so obsessed. The obsession started the next day when you posted the photos Giselle took of you on the fire escape. She came out with the smokers after everyone sang Anton happy birthday and took a picture of you on her digital camera. The tears were gone by then, only leaving you embarrassed and trying to hide from Giselle before she asked what was wrong. You cried some more, the smokers offered you a Lucky Strike to help you feel better.

Giselle took the cigarette on your behalf and clicked through her recent pictures on her camera. She said you were giving indie sleaze and Spring Breakers, all of that. You wouldn’t have preferred to post pictures of yourself after a cry. But your eyes didn’t look too bloodshot and you wanted to post proof that you were there, waiting for Anton on the fire escape even after he went inside. So you posted it and Anton liked it. But he didn’t comment and he didn’t ask if you privately if you had taken that photo on his fire escape. You were still clinging to the railing from when he had a hand around your waist but he didn’t comment. 

He commented on his own post, though. The girl who told him it was time to cut the cake and who planned the after party commented and Anton responded almost immediately. 

A simple reply from Anton started the obsession. You spent every night alternating between her Instagram feed, Anton’s Instagram feed, and your message history with Anton. You were stuck in a loop, late into every single night thinking about what you should’ve done. 

You were stuck on your chat history with Anton a little longer than usual. After his birthday there was there was radio silence from you both. You scrolled up through the history of you telling Anton that you were outside, him asking when and where to meet you. 

You didn’t know you had it so good then, that it was so easy. Anton was always there for you, early in the morning and late into the night. After classes and before, during parties, and after exams. You didn’t think that the conversation on the fire escape would’ve been the last. 

You kept scrolling. The implication of seeing the other around wasn’t a farewell. It didn’t feel like a farewell then, you don’t know if you could handle it being one now. 

Your thumb pressed on the chat absentmindedly. You were pulled all the way down to the recent message, a month ago when you told Anton in the middle of his party that you were coming. The bright light of your screen was burning your eyes as you typed something out before deleting it. You did that a million times, turning to your side trying to figure out what to do. Your blanket rested gently over your body as you pressed your face into the pillow, typing each word carefully.

you: are you mad at me?

you: i’m sorry if i did something wrong

Regret instantly bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut like you’re trying to will away the message. But you see the speech bubble at the bottom of your chat history.

anton: i’m not mad at you

anton: is everything okay?

Anton told you himself that he’s not mad. He’s told you before that he’s never been mad at you. He’s told you he’s been confused by you, and now it seemed like he was worried for you. He texted back immediately just like he used to. It wasn’t too late into the night. You could be at his place in ten minutes.

You think Anton might’ve texted again while you were getting ready. You were just thinking that he’s never been mad at you, just confused or upset. He wasn’t mad on the fire escape when you told him that you probably wouldn’t go to the afters, he wasn’t upset that you said nothing in response to him to suddenly ask if he was mad at you. He didn’t tell you he was mad so he wasn’t, just worried. You didn’t need to read his text because you were already convinced, fully dressed and ready to go to his side of campus.

You got dressed in the dark, spritzing a perfume you bought with Anton in mind while you wore a shirt of his. You zipped up a hoodie of his that he gave to you and put sweats over your sleeping shorts. You got dressed quick, filling in the gaps of Anton asking you to come over.

You had figured he had given up to some extent to get you to be his. You were devising a plan in the midsts of getting dressed to let him know that you wanted more from him. Once you made it inside of his room you’d tell him that you missed him. During sex he’d ask you—like he always has—if it was all for him and you think you’d actually nod your head this time. Instead of teasing him you’d be brutally honest, or you’d say yes so sincerely he’d hear all the regret in your voice. You know that you’re the most vulnerable with him in the middle of the act. Maybe you’d let a declaration slip out in the middle of it, telling him that you could never handle a month of silence from him ever again. Maybe you’d say you were sorry while he laid you down and you would beg for another chance. He was more receptive to your emotionally stunted ways in that state, too. You know he’d coo at you and accept your apology. You know he’d tease you but there’d be sincerity, some gratitude for you being upfront. He might tell you he’d take you on a date and hold your hand in public. You’d react and tell him yes, because you’re positive that’s what you want now. 

The possibilities of the night made you move in a haste. You cleared campus to his dorm in eight minutes, phone tucked in the pocket of your hoodie. You were going through the outcomes when you entered his building, asking the resident assistant proudly if you could be scanned in to go to Anton’s floor. You bounced in front of the doors of the elevator, watching the number climb until you got to Anton’s floor.

You got out of the elevator quickly, turning the corner and going to his room so fast your feet dragged across the carpet. You went over your plan in your mind: tell him that you missed him, have sex, start an actual relationship. You were so preoccupied telling yourself this plan you didn’t notice your phone vibrating in your pocket. Only when you were in front of Anton’s door were you still enough to hear the sound of a phone vibrating and feel the slight sensation.

You fished your phone out before you knocked on his door. His contact picture took up your entire screen, and your heart seized in your chest at your routine being fulfilled. He was probably calling to ask if you could bring a condom. You had a few in your bag, but if this night went how you wanted maybe you wouldn’t need them at all. A teary love confession right before you both finished together sounded like something straight from a movie. You declined the call but instead reached forward to knock on his door.

Your phone started vibrating again as you stood in front of the door. Almost immediately the call dropped, and your phone revealed a series of texts you didn’t know you were ignoring on your journey here.

anton: hey is everything alright?

anton: i’m not mad, just confused.

anton: even more confused now.

anton: call me

anton: are you outside my door?

You could hear him on the other side of his door. Shuffling, moving things around, turning the lock. Your eyes were trained on the door where you thought he was on the other side. The more shuffling you heard the more nervous you became, thinking about the tone of his texts. 

Regret seizes in your chest and you think that Anton would’ve told you to go home if you were on your way. The longer it takes for him to open the door the more your mind wanders. The urge to leave takes up everything. You grip your phone tight and take a step away from the door.

Before you could turn and head back towards the emergency staircase, the door opens.

You have been here a million times before with Anton. Usually you’d be clad in black with a hat on like you concealing your identity. Regardless, he’d always pull the door open then pull you through it, kissing the top of your head to welcome you in. 

This time he only opened it enough for half his body to fit through. He doesn’t come into the hallway to greet you. He stayed in his entryway, caught between the door and the frame. He doesn’t greet you. He just stands there in his sweats. His hair had just finished drying, the length fluffy and curling around the frame of his face. There’s not the shy smile or smirk on his face either. His features are pulled together in worry and confusion, looking at you like you’re not real. He can look you right in the face without having you take off a hat or sunglasses. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks. 

He leans closer, just enough for his head to peer into the hallway. He looks left and right and you do the same, looking at an empty hallway on both sides. You teeter from side to side, hearing your sneakers drag across the low pile carpet. The slight scraping is grating, more than the fact that Anton hasn’t invited you in yet. He has also never scoped out the scene before. You usually did that because you were afraid of being caught.

He’s not mad at you; he could never be mad at you. You tell yourself he asks the question out of worry. You always gave a warning that you’d be coming over. But you also remember the sentiment that you were always welcome. Anton told you that you could come by any time when you asked if you could crash at his one night. He said that he wished he could give you a key so you could drop in whenever you liked.

But you also remember that he said those things post sex. His lovey-dovey pillow walk could’ve been all for show, or it could’ve been recanted when you said nothing to him for a month. When you had sex in your dorm it was pretty devoid of feelings then. You don’t think you looked at Anton’s face too much when you offered that he could spend the night. You try to find the same look on his face now.

“Sorry,” you say.

Anton shakes his head.

“Don’t apologize,” he says. 

He shuffles on his feet. You can barely see into his room but you’re thinking about why you haven’t been invited in yet. You can barely see into his room, only the part over his shoulder that shows the ceiling and the light embedded in the middle. 

He doesn’t smile at you in the moment of silence. He just keeps looking, one hand holding the door open and the other behind him. You can’t even reach out to him.

“What are you doing here?” he asks again.

You thought you were always welcome. It feels like you knocked on the wrong door, a stranger opened up instead of your Anton. 

“I’m sorry, I just thought…” you say, words trail off at the end.

“Is everything alright?” he asked.

The question was sincere. He leaned a little closer when he asked it. He wasn’t sure if he was trying to keep his voice down or if he was trying to come closer to you so you’d take a step forward. 

“Are you okay?” he repeated.

His concern is palpable. You take a step forward and he doesn’t flinch away. You nod, trying to string together enough of an apology to find your way in.

The arm he extended and the step you took forward made more of the room visible. In the smallest space that was open, you saw a shadow dancing on the ceiling. Your eyes darted from the space above Anton to the small gap that opened between his body and the door. 

You saw her sitting on the couch and she was looking towards you. You recognized her face from endless scrolling on Instagram. You recognized the shock because it was the same look she gave you and Anton when she came on the terrace. You couldn’t mistake her because you had seen her a million times. She was pretty in person too, even when she was shocked.

You pulled back almost immediately. Anton’s eyes got wide and yours did too. He couldn’t block your view in time. He blocked the small gap between his arm and the door, but it was too late. Suddenly the tone of his texts made sense. His urgency to get you to respond. You’re sure he would’ve told you stay home and that he had someone else over. But you ended up here, not trying to hide yourself. The girl knows who you are, she has seen you before.

Your face heats up as the second of eye-contact plays in your mind again and again. Everything comes down at once and so quickly you feel lightheaded. There’s an intent to get out. Your feet are planted, frozen in the doorway. Like you’ve been caught you hold your breath. You grip your phone so tight and finally take a step back. Anton comes forward, leaving his doorway and closing his door behind him so quick you jump.

He’s against his door and he’s looking at you like he’s waiting for something. He’s wearing the sweater with the swim team on it and a pair of jeans. He probably walked from practice with her. You thought you saw textbooks on the coffee table. Maybe he went and picked her up from class. Or maybe that Instagram story you couldn’t click on was a date. She was sitting in the same space you always used to occupy with a bewildered look on her face. You were supposed to be on that couch, or at the very least inside. Now you were trapped outside, Anton and the door and the girl in the way. 

“I should go,” you said finally.

You think Anton said something. You didn’t hear because you had turned on your heel and made your way for the staircase that led you down to the courtyard. 

You were a flight down when you heard the door open on Anton’s floor. You heard him making his way down the steps too, hurried like yours were. You kept going, the steps blurring together as you felt the sting at your waterline. You were closer and closer to the courtyard, then you could make the speed walk towards your dorm. You think you could hold your tears by then. Anton would see you disappearing down the path and give up to go back to his girlfriend that he was waiting for him in his room.

You pushed the door open and a gust of air hit you. The fresh air provided no relief, instead just stinging your already sensitive eyes. You immediately cut through the courtyard, speed-walking across the bricked path to your dorm. You heard the staircase door closing again, and the sound of footsteps following after you. A moment later you heard heavy footsteps coming closer. You kept moving forward. Anton called after you, but you didn’t stop moving.

He caught up to you eventually. With a hand on your forearm he stopped you from walking any further. Tears break past your waterline, forcing you to look down at the ground instead of looking at him.

You can feel Anton looming over you. You stare at his feet, his slides quickly thrown on in a haste to catch you. His hand is still around your arm, holding it gently. You can feel each finger pressed into your skin, burning from his body heat and your embarrassment.

“Why’d you run?” Anton asked. 

You shake your head. You bring your other hand to your eyes to wipe away forming tears.

“Didn’t you want to talk?” he asks. 

“I didn’t know you had someone over,” you say, still looking at his feet.

Anton lets go of your arm and you immediately try stepping backwards. He covers the distance you try to make. The wind settles, you see Anton’s other hand go to push his hair back.

“I didn’t even know you were coming over,” he says. 

When you still say nothing, Anton brings a hesitant hand to your shoulder. You feel the weariness when he massages you gently.

“I’m not mad.” He continues to massage your shoulder. You nod pathetically, wiping away more tears. “I just wish you would tell me what you were thinking,” he says.

“I just wanted to see you,” you say.

You’re surprised that the sentiment came out so quickly. You were supposed to hold it in until you got him alone in his room. You weren’t supposed to be completely vulnerable until you could blame it on the heat of a moment.

When you finally look Anton in the eyes you immediately see his expression drop. The confusion melts. Almost immediately the entirety of him softens, his hand is sure as it rubs your shoulder gently.

“Why are you crying?” he asks. When you try to look away his other hand goes to your other shoulder, angling your body towards him. “What’s wrong?”

Anton’s reflex to worry about you makes you even more teary. You hadn’t spoken in so long but he still cares. You think about that night on the terrace and how Anton was giving you the opportunity to stay. But then you think about the same girl that was at the party telling him to blow out the candles was the same girl that was in his dorm. You were in her place at one point, and knowing that you’ve been replaced but he’s still considerate of your feelings makes your vision watery.

“I just thought for some reason that if I came here like this it’d fix the problem between us.”

There’s a silence between the two of you. You hear shoes tapping on the paved walkway and there’s a gentle breeze. It pushes Anton’s hair back slightly.

“What’s the problem?” he asks.

You know he knows. Anton always seems to know everything, he only tries to coax answers out of you for sake of conversation. There’s something holding you back still. You know he knows that too.

The breeze wisping through the courtyard provides little relief to your stinging eyes. 

“Your birthday party,” you start.

“What about it?” he asks.

You turn your head to look at the side of his building. You think his room is facing the courtyard. You wonder if that girl is up there in the window looking down at the two of you.

“I know I said I’d see you around, but it sucks leaving it to chance,” you say.

“You don’t have to leave it up to chance,” Anton clarifies.

“That’s why I came here.” 

Your words trail off at the end as you vaguely look up to the floor Anton lives on. You don’t know which window is his exactly. Still, you scan the face of the building looking for someone standing in the window. 

You only look back to him when you hear him move. When his eyes catch a circular metal table he walks towards it, pulling at your shoulder slightly. You drag your feet to follow him. He sits down first and motions to the spot next to him. 

There’s no distance when you sit down. You look at the spot where your knees touch his. Anton is looking down too, before he looks up and catches your eye.

He’s silent for a long time. The light breeze pushes his hair before he flicks his head back. 

“We don’t have to leave it to chance, but knowing would be nice.” You watch Anton bring his hands together, messing with each individual finger. You can tell he’s thinking carefully about what to say next. He’s acting like you’re liable to burst into tears without telling him why. The thought of how gentle he is makes a bigger lump materialize in your throat. “I think what we had before—“

“Was better?” you finished.

Anton shakes his head. His hands go to the top of the table. His thumbs tap slightly on the grated top on the table. The small metallic sound is barely audible over the sound of people talking around the courtyard.

“What we had before was more consistent,” he says carefully, head turning towards you. “I knew what you wanted when you texted me late asking if I was up. I don’t know what you want when you pop up on me at a reasonable hour wearing my clothes.”

You look down at his hoodie. You’ve been sweating nonstop since he opened his door. You want to take it off, but underneath this you’re wearing one of his shirts.

“I just really wanted to see you,” you say.

“My friend also really wanted to see me.”

Anton emphasizing friend has your heart dropping to your stomach. You don’t think during your previous involvement you’ve ever referred to him as your friend. You think maybe he makes the girls he hooks up with call him that. Or you two were never anything to begin with. What he could’ve meant only hurts, and you’re forced to take it in stride.

“I’m your friend too,” you say after a moment of silence.

Your tone makes it sound like a question. The way Anton raises his eyebrows makes you even more confused. 

“My friend?” he asks.

You nod. His knee is so warm it bleeds through your clothes. It feels like there’s direct skin contact, or bone clashing into bone.

“I’m glad we are friends,” he emphasizes.

You nod again. Anton’s eyes are burning holes into the side of your face, but you focus on where your knees touch. The parts of his body that are in view flex, and with a quick peak upwards you see that he’s leaning against the table. His elbow is pressed into the grated metal and the side of his face is resting on the bottom of his palm. He taps his fingers on his face in a wave, looking at you with an expression you have trouble reading. The lamps in the  courtyard turned on automatically, lighting the parts of his face that the setting Sun missed. You think you see a smile before you focus somewhere else.

“Well,” he says, hands clapping together. “I’m glad we are friends.”

You hear the playful lift to his voice. Anton leans forward, until his elbow moves to rest on the edge of the table. He leans in, the same time he puts a hand on your knee that touches his.

“How was your day, friend?” he asks.

You can’t look down at your knee because you can feel the warmth of him through the fabric. The hand on your knee makes you believe you’re more than friends. The taunting tone in his voice makes you think he already knows what you’ve been doing all day. Cyberstalking him and the girl that was in his room. Ruminating on the past. Wallowing in self pity while trying to do coursework. Letting all your emotions boil over until they forced you come over to his dorm unprompted.

“I went to class,” you look towards a lamp post, squinting your eyes trying to think of what else you could say that wouldn’t be so pathetic. “did some homework.”

Anton hummed and nodded. Your hands were balled into fists, joints stiff as you motioned vaguely towards him.

“How was your day?” you asked.

Anton tilted his head towards the dark sky like he was thinking. His hand was pulsing a grip on your thigh.

“I also went to class. Then I went to practice and tore a hole in my swim cap by accident,” he answers.

You see the first break in Anton’s demeanor as he remembers his torn swim cap. He frowns slightly, fingers rubbing at his forehead.

“Gotta buy a new one, but I have to go to the other side of town to get the caps I like.”

“You’re in classes all day tomorrow too, right?” you ask.

Anton’s face changes again. He tilts his head and smiles at you, instead of a taunt you can tell he’s pleasantly surprised. You’ve had to pick up a thing or two about his schedule in the midst of your previous entanglement. He knew about yours, and he told you everything so it was only natural to remember it.

“Yeah, I’m in class all day.” Anton says, running his hand through his hair. “I gotta get the cap before my hair gets all messed up from the pool.”

You nod your head like you understand. You understand chlorine enough, the concept of chemicals and how they’d react to hair. You imagine being submerged in water in any capacity for hours on end would be Hell on hair. On Anton Instagram and the girls Instagram everyone is always wearing their headgear. Anton always ends up having a few strands of his hair peaking out from the bottom. 

Anton runs his hands through that part of his hair, staying at the ends and carding it through his fingers. You want to do the same, you get lost in the motion of Anton’s large hand grooming himself. His hand on your thigh just remained in a gentle squeeze. 

“You know,” he begins. You instantly perk up and stop looking at his hand. “I think friends also go to their friend’s swim practices.”

You nod. Anton smiles and nods back. It’s silent between the two of you. People pass by the both of you in the courtyard, coming home from night classes or a last minute cram at the library. You don’t withdraw from him at all. You let people walk by and look, you watch Anton watch them walk by. His gaze would flicker to you, like he was gauging for a reaction. To not pull away and to not react you had to freeze completely. But you felt Anton apply a little more force behind the hold on your thigh. 

Anton’s’ gaze flickers as one more person walks by. You hear a small sound of them saying hi and Anton is waving back and responding to them. You peer over your shoulder. You’ve seen that person before, you’re sure of it. Maybe it was at Anton’s party, or one of the functions at the abandoned warehouse. But you’re sure they know Anton because they make small talk, and he looks like he’s about to take a seat before he sees the hand on your thigh. Without missing a beat he bids Anton a farewell, and he continues making his way through the courtyard.

The two of you wait in the heavy silence. Someone saw you and Anton having a moment, where you were like a deer in the headlights and he was calm and collected. This must mean the hand on your thigh means more than just friends. 

But before you can read any more into it, Anton retracts his hand. He gets up from his seat fast, making you tilt your head up to look at him. This angle is awful. Too reminiscent. For a moment the reason you came by flashes through your mind. You were supposed to be spilling your guts in the middle of sex with Anton, not partially spilling your guts and groveling just to be in his life again. You didn’t think this is how the night would go. Now you’re his friend and he’s touching your chin playfully, making it tilt up even further to look at him.

“You gotta get home though, right?” he asks.

You swallow and nod your head to recenter yourself. You get up too, slowly but almost shaky on your legs.

Anton’s hands clap your shoulders. This is something he’s never done with you. He shakes you slightly, and you think he’s going to pull you in for a hug before he pulls away completely.

“Text me when you get home,” he says.

You want to ask him to walk you home. But you know that if you ask, he will say he has company over, and you will get that pang in your chest and the tense feeling in your jaw. 

“I will,” you said.

You turned the other direction and started walking back towards your building. You felt Anton still watching, and when you took a quick look over your shoulder he was there. Like a shadow he stayed by the table, lit up partially by a lamp post. You took a glance over him, where you think the light in his room was still on.

You texted Anton that you made it home and he responded. You went to sleep thinking about his indirect invitation slash order to come to his swim practice, and the girl that was waiting for him in his room. You woke up that morning thinking about how you were his friend now. You asked yourself what do friends do for eachother. Anton would be going to practice today with a torn swim cap, exposing his hair to the harsh chemicals of the pool. Friends wouldn’t let friends go through that.

All of your stalking came in handy. You found the brand of swim cap by zooming in on a picture Anton posted two weeks ago. The sports goods store wasn’t too far, and you had no classes to get in the way. You got his cap and you went back to campus.

You circled the entrance of the practice hall for twenty minutes. The nerves continued to prevail, each time you reached towards the door you thought about all of the possibilities. He had found enjoyment in labeling you as a friend last night. Maybe this was a trick to get you here, so he could laugh and joke with his friends about the desperate girl who wanted a second chance. You knew that girl would be here too, you’re sure you would be seen by his entire team. 

But you lost the right to choose. You were just his friend now, a friend who was on thin ice. If you wanted to get back to a semblance of anything you had before, this was the only way. If you turned around and left, you’d fill every room you entered with regret. Anton was waiting for you the same way he waiting for you to come to his game. You weren’t sure you’d be able to look at Anton ever again if you didn’t do this. So you took a deep breath, gripped the swim cap tight and pulled the door open.

Instantly when you passed the door you smelled the pool. The hallway had fluorescent lights embed into the ceiling and had warm lights in the display case. You saw trophies and banners and pictures of different athletic teams. You saw the accolades for the swimming team as you continued following the sound of water splashing.

The other parts of the gymnasium were relatively unoccupied. Some people were in the weight room, others were lying on cots getting massages or being inspected. You kept walking down the hallway, trying to seem like you belonged while gripping the swim cap like it was proof.

The pool was behind another set of double doors. You stay near the entrance, making the door close gently to avoid the sound echoing. The white walls are a stark difference to the vibrant green of spring outside. The tiled floor is different from the dirt, or the concrete that you nervously paced over for ten minutes. The weather in here is different too, the almost exact opposite of the clear spring outside. In here you’re drowning in the humidity, instantly feeling hot and damp in your clothes. Your heart is beating fast too, because you’ve never been here and you can already hear Anton’s voice echoing off the walls of the pool. You hear splashing and the sound of people jumping off the boards. Timers, clocks, instructors yelling about strokes. You squeeze the swim cap in your hand, feeling like you should turn around. You’re behind the coverage of the stands, you could turn around and no one would know. 

The air is so thick in here you could chew on it, and you can already feel sweat beading at your forehead. You walk forward, matching breaths with your steps trying to figure out why your heart is hammering in your chest.

Although you could hear Anton you had no idea where he was. His voice bounced off the water and the white walls, the sounds of people swimming threw you off. You thought that he would be on the other end of the pool, giving you a chance to see him before he saw you. Anton didn’t miss a beat instructing his team but he must’ve heard the door open, because the moment you passed the coverage of the bleachers and you saw him in your peripheral, he was already looking in your direction. 

You froze under his stare, staying still in the spot by the bleachers. You saw Anton freeze too, his hands that clapped for his teammates stayed fused together.

You wanted to turn on your heel and leave. The humid air was choking you and the warmth was making you sweat. You felt like every unpleasant smell from the day was attached to you, amplified by the muggy atmosphere. You felt sticky, your dirty hands were rubbing off on Anton’s brand new swim cap.

You saw Anton turn to his coach. Against it all you forced yourself to face him, even if you felt like your clothes were rubbing against your clammy skin. You felt soggy here, and it felt like Anton knew it. He walked towards you casually, looking like he belonged here. The blue reflecting off the pool complimented his tan skin, the water droplets on his shoulders from his hair looked perfect. 

In moments like this you remember that this could’ve been yours the whole time. Anton is careful navigating from the bleachers but doesn’t take his eyes off of you. You’re standing still and watching him, just waiting for him to come to you. 

You’re messing with the swim cap so much you think you’re wearing it down, already rubbing a portion of it thin from nerves. The repeated motion provides no relief, only making the palms of your hands sweaty. 

By the time Anton is in front of you, you’re sure you’ve rubbed a hole in the latex. Regardless, you present it to him, holding it out between the two of you so he couldn’t come any closer. 

“I got you a new swim cap,” you said.

You felt your voice get overtaken by the echo of water splashing. 

Anton looked down at the swim cap and you heard the coach blow the whistle. More splashing and water moving in the pool bounced off the walls. 

He took the cap from your hands, fingers brushing against yours. 

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

The genuine surprise in his voice cut through everything. The way he made eye contact made you look at his bare shoulder instead. Without even looking down you knew that his shorts were hanging low, only meant to cover the jammers he was swimming in. You could see his chiseled stomach, and you were thinking about the last time you had seen him like this. You also felt a flash of jealousy at the thought of everyone who has seen him like this since his birthday in March.

This could’ve been your life all this time. Bringing him things, crashing his practices, having him look at you with a grateful smile on his face. You like seeing him surprised, you like seeing him look at you and having other people see it too.

“It’s the brand I like too,” he says. 

You can’t stop yourself from smiling. You know that you did good, and that Anton likes it. He looks to the people swimming in the pool, then his coach behind him. The whistle blows again and you think that it’s time for you to leave.

“I just wanted to stop by—”

“Practice is almost over,” he says. “you don’t have any classes today, right?”

“You still remember my schedule?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says simply.

The coach blows the whistle and you hear the sounds of relief. The sound of water splashing decreases almost immediately, you hear wet footsteps splash in puddles surrounding the pool before Anton turns around. He’s holding the cap the same way you had it clutched before.

“Practice is almost over,” he repeats. He points past the double doors. “there are some chairs right past the doors. Wait for me?” 

You nod, and Anton immediately smiles. Before he turns around to join his team he comes close. You’re too slow to react, and he moves quick. He pecks your forehead when the creases from nerves finally smoothed out. You were in a state to react slow, because his reaction to the swim cap was already disarming. You can only let out a quick chirp, a delayed tensing of your entire body before Anton was already turning around to walk towards the rest of his team. You were there in the same spot for a solid six seconds, frozen until you heard Anton’s coach speak. Only then did you turn around and head back towards the double doors.

You waited patiently on the seats. You could hear the muffled sounds of everyone cheering and clapping, what you assumed to be the official end of practice. You heard the quiet chatter and the sound of people gathering their things. You were waiting to hear for something, then suddenly the doors swung open and everyone was leaving in a large crowd. You instinctually kept your head down as everyone walked by. You just stayed focused on their feet or pretended to look at your phone as they passed by. You didn’t look up, afraid you’d catch the eye of someone who would somehow know you.

Only when the final pair of feet stopped in front of you did you look up. Everyone else kept moving past Anton but he stayed there, one hand holding the strap of his duffle bag that was slung over his shoulder. He looked down at you with a smile on his face. You looked towards his teammates, who weren’t concerned with anything else besides making their way to the dining hall or finally going homw. He looked down at you like he didn’t kiss your forehead like he’s your boyfriend. He only motioned towards the exit.

“This way,” he said gently.

You can’t say much after you leave the gym. Your mouth is dry from Anton following your lead to get out of the building. You almost lead him to the locker room on accident, too afraid to ask him where the exit was. You couldn’t even manage looking behind you helplessly for Anton to point in the right direction. You just stumbled through, hearing his footsteps close behind you. 

When you were finally out you breathed the fresh air. April was always crisp, the cold weather from winter making the transition to spring. The setting Sun made the warmer weather become even more cool. The sweats Anton threw on after practice was perfect for this weather. His gray set looked comfortable, even in the sparse sections where the gray was dark from getting slightly wet. The neck, the bottom hem. Part of his sleeve and the hood. 

You’re still looking at the damp part on his chest when he’s suddenly coming too close again. You brace yourself for another kiss on the forehead, but he goes even further. He caves into you, one arm wrapping around your waist while the other cupped your face. You could feel the prune in his hands from being in the pool. He smelled like chlorine and a warm room, filling your nose as he kissed you. 

You instantly put your hands on the base of his neck to keep him there. The fabric of his hoodie was damp underneath your fingers from where the bottom of his hair was still shedding water droplets. You felt a few droplets fall on your hand, cold and slipping between the cracks of your fingers. You held him a little tighter because you thought he was pulling back, but he was only tilting his head to get a better angle. You mirrored him, leaning further into his body just to feel his arm wrap around your waist tighter.

He breathed hot air into your mouth and you did it back. Each time you pulled your lips back Anton chased after you, and when he pulled back you did the same thing. You were panting into him, too afraid to break him out of whatever mood he found himself in. Your chest was heaving from lack of air and excitement but you were focused on giving Anton back everything he gave you. 

You couldn’t stop yourself from whimpering when you felt his tongue push into your mouth. You touched your tongue to his, remembering the last time you were both like this. You fisted his hoodie to keep him in place and you felt his hand shift to palm the back of your head. You found yourself desperate to reach through the fabric and touch him. You were greedy, hand trailing up from his neck to grab a handful of his damp hair. You were careful to not grip, to not add too much pressure. Despite being lost in him you felt like you were only one misstep away from Anton remembering how awful you were and that he was supposed to be indifferent to you. You felt water droplets fall from his strands to transfer to your hands, traveling down your tilted arms before wetting the fabric of your shirt.

Anton’s arm wrapped around your waist to pull you even closer. You felt yourself shift to your tiptoes to accommodate, and then his hand that palmed your head moved to your chin. He tilted your head up until it broke the kiss. 

Before you could react to the loss of contact you felt his soft lips close around your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth. 

He’s never done this with you. The idea that he’s tried this on someone else almost makes you want to pull away, but you feel the lightest pressure from his teeth and his arm around your waist refuses to loosen. It felt like he was trying to take a piece of you with him, you felt the pressure and the suction from his closed lips around yours. 

Both of his hands shifted to holding your face. You felt him press your cheeks together with gentle pressure, causing your lips to push into a pout. You narrowed your eyebrows from the inability to kiss him like you wanted. He was just eating you alive just a few moments ago but now he was hindering you. You let out a defiant sound, something that was pitiful because you wanted to keep kissing him and whiny because you wanted to show him that you were good at it.

Anton stopped kissing you deeply, pulling his tongue and face away to start kissing your squeezed lips. They were chaste and obnoxiously loud, replacing the sultry quiet with obvious smacking. 

You felt a breeze and opened your eyes to the orange sky and remembered that you were in public, and the loud sounds your lips were making could draw attention. You still didn’t pull at Anton’s hair, even if your cheeks were flamed from embarrassment. The side of his face caught the Sun, making his skin turn to a beautiful gold. The Sun came through the black hair you still refused to grip, blocking some of it from blinding you. You knew that behind you on the building for the indoor pool you and Anton formed one shadow. You could see Anton instead of just feeling him, the gentle swiping motion on your cheek with his thumb and the way his lips started curling into a smile with each loud kiss. You gripped his sweatshirt tighter, puckering your lips even further trying to do something on your own volition. 

The moment you started adding to the loud sounds of kissing, he pulled away. Anton ended it with a big final kiss, pressing your wet lips together before he pulled away with a mwah! Even if this was some form of torture you still whined from loss of contact, because Anton’s hands went back to being at his side. He smiled like his lips weren’t covered in your spit and like your bottom lip wasn’t thrumming from the pressure. 

Your chest was rising and falling quickly. When Anton pulled away. the Sun was fully on you now, the light slightly blinding you. Your pupils weren’t prepared for the light, you were disoriented from lack of oxygen but Anton was smiling at you like you weren’t about to burst into flames. You were so consumed that when he came close you leaned in again, preemptively parting your lips.

He passes your lips completely, mouth going to your ear instead.

“Thanks for the swim cap by the way,” he whispers.

His voice is surprisingly even. Your fingers were cramped from holding his sweatshirt so tight. He bent over to grab his duffle bag. You were trying to figure out when he dropped it as you cleared your throat.

“No problem,” you replied.

Your voice was scratchy and raspy. You straightened your clothes and didn’t know what to do with yourself.

“You gonna come see me at practice tomorrow, too?” he asked.

You nodded, licking your lips to taste him.

“At the end of the week there’s a few teams coming from surrounding colleges and we are going to have a little mock swim meet.” 

You were still nodding your head. Your chest was heaving, you breathed through your nose like you just climbed a flight of stairs. You were still clutching desperately at his hoodie when he smiled and touched your chin.

“Tomorrow you can just go up to the press box and watch from up there,” he said. 

Each order was received with a nod. You were still trying to ground yourself when Anton started walking away from the gymnasium.

“You gotta get back to your dorm right?” he asked, tilting his head in the general direction of your place.

You trailed behind him, fixing the part of your jacket that slipped off your shoulder. You were rushing behind him, trying to figure out if whatever had happened to you actually happened. Your chest was still hammering looking at Anton push his hands into his pockets. Those same hands were pushing your jacket off your shoulder and pulling you closer. He was everywhere just a few moments ago, you couldn’t fake nonchalance like he was. He slowed down and you closed the distance. The moment you were next to him he pointed his thumb in a different direction.

“I have to go somewhere though,” he said. 

“That’s fine,” you said.

“I’m meeting somebody,” he added.

There was a falter in your steps. A break in the steady breeze. You shook your head slightly before looking down to your feet.

“I understand,” you said.

“See you tomorrow,” Anton bumped playfully into your side. “friend.”

This was the fourth day you were trapped in the press box during Anton’s swimming practices. The broadcasting microphones for announcers and the rigid seats were your only company. You were scared at first being here, afraid to even settle in the seats worried that you’d mess something up. Anton had to assure you over text that he was using his captain privilege so you had endless access to the empty space. The room was unused in the off-season and wasn’t stuffy like the pool, a perfect place just for you.

You had the best view of the swimming pool below. You stopped telling yourself that you were here to do homework on the first day. You made sure to get everything done before coming, because the books you brought would always end up closed, your head balanced on top as you looked down at him. Now, you shamelessly watched Anton from above. You felt like a creep, keeping a close eye on him and never bothering to look anywhere else. You had to cover your face with your hand whenever he would take his shirt off and bashfully look away when he’d occasionally lift his head towards you. 

Anton was talented. Even by knowing only the bare minimum about swim you knew that he was gifted. There was always kept a gap between him and whoever he was next to in the water. He watched his teammates alongside the coach and helped whoever needed it. He even had his own whistle, leading reps whenever the coach was out doing something else. 

You were subjected to seeing him shirtless while leading a team everyday. You have been forced to think about your relationship up here in the solitude of the press box. Atleast you weren’t in the muggy atmosphere of the pool. Here the air was clearer and didn’t smell like chlorine. 

Still, it would get a little harder to breathe seeing Anton from up here all day. You had grown accustomed to hearing your own labored breathing at the sight of him pulling himself up out of the pool. He always wore the swim cap you got him, water shedding from his body as his muscles tensed. Seeing him hold his breath and get serious as he sliced his hands through the water. 

You found an inexplicable joy in watching him from up here. You knew what he was doing, who he was talking to. Because you had limited access to Anton now, there was plenty left to your imagination. When you were up in the press box looking down at him, there was no room for confusion. 

But today was different. Anton told you that colleges surrounding the area were coming for a mock swim meet. When you came into the press box today and sat in your chair you saw that the usual number of people had tripled. You were lost in the sheer amount of swimmers, your elevated view of the gym didn’t help. You couldn’t find Anton by his swim cap because everyone was wearing the cap of their designated school. 

Your elbows are propped on the small desk as you search for him. He’s not poolside, he’s not chatting with his coach who is chatting with the other coaches. He wasn’t in the pool getting practice laps in. You kept searching, you looked for people wearing your school colors one by one. You even scooted to the edge of your seat, trying to get the best vantage point possible.

You found Anton sitting on the bleachers. On the outskirts of what you could see, he was at the edge, leaning against the safety curtains. A towel was slung over his shoulders. He wasn’t wearing the swim cap you got him either. What was the most jarring was seeing the amount of people surrounding him. He was not talking to anyone from his team, you saw they were mingling with people from other campuses or helping organize the space as stand-in managers. 

Anton was fully entertaining a group of girls. He was in the middle of it, too. Two girls sat on the row behind him, leaning forward to hear every word he was saying. One of the girls feet was propped on the row Anton sat on. Her foot was so close the side of his leg, each time she moved she grazed his body. A girl on the row in front of him had her back fully resting against the safety curtains, looking at him and anyone who was talking. When she spoke she only looked towards him. She was sitting next to a girl whose head was on a swivel, the closest to Anton and the only one you couldn’t get a good look at. Anton had one foot propped right next to her. Sometimes the conversation only seemed to revolve around them, with everyone else listening in. Two girls sat at the row below them, side by side. They fully had their backs facing you, but you could see them occasionally bump shoulders whenever Anton wasn’t looking at them. There were three more girls on his side that wasn’t against the safety curtain, one on each row their group occupied. They all leaned in, facing towards Anton. The girl on his row was only separated from him by his duffel bag.

They all had the same body language, caught up in Anton and every move he was making. You watched each of them take turns looking at his shoulders and what his towel was covering. Occasionally  they’d catch eachother taking peaks, to which they’d make small expressions they thought Anton didn’t catch. Or maybe they wanted him to see. 

You never thought a view of him from up here could end up like this. You liked seeing him from up here because you liked thinking about him having an audience up here. You wondered if he behaved differently with you watching as opposed to you not. You told him you would come a little bit before the mock swim meet because you had class. You took your phone out of your pocket, placing it flat on the table. You continued watching him as you pressed your passcode from muscle memory. You went to your messages, only taking a peak at your phone to make sure you were in the chat you had with him. 

There was anger in choosing what to look at. You couldn’t bring yourself to miss Anton getting closer to a girl to repeat something but watching all of them lean in. You watched one fold her arms closer to her chest and make the smallest movement to get closer to him. When he stopped holding his towel over his shoulders they all peeked, looking at his hands go down to rub down his legs quickly. They smiled when he smiled, they laughed when it seemed like he said nothing. You rolled your eyes and fully went to your phone. You picked it up from the surface of the table, hearing each defining click as your fingers jabbed your keyboard.

you: i’m here.

Heat fanned your face as you watched his phone light up on the bleachers. You saw three of the girls lean in at the same time, trying to see what was happening before Anton grabbed his phone. He was calm. You gripped your phone tight in your hands, fingers pressing into the keys so hard alternative options for the letters popped up. 

You didn’t even get the satisfaction of seeing the read receipt. No text bubbles to show he was typing, no glance upwards to the press box. You just watched Anton turn off his phone and set it face down on the bleachers, continuing the conversation like nothing happened. 

You didn’t know what he was saying, just watching his lips move before he sat up a little straighter. You watched his towel slide off his shoulders, falling down completely to the aisle behind him. Part of the towel ended up on the foot of the girl sitting behind him. She moved and you watched her hand push into his bare shoulder. All the other girls followed suit, pushing at some part of his body. One pushed his bare knee, the other pushed his thigh. Someone pushed at his other shoulder, and another pushed his chest. Each of their hands touched his body in a terrible sequence, to which he held up his arms like he was sorry. You saw his arms flex, to which all the girls pinched the muscle and made shrill sounds you swore you could hear.

Anton was bashfully putting his head down too. You saw that he had the same knowing smirk when he’d wind you up. He shook his head while all the girls chatted amongst themselves. The second they weren’t looking at him he was looking at you up in the press box. Your tongue was poking the inside of your cheek, you pulled your hands across your chest so tightly it almost hurt. His smile is so innocent. You think your phone is going to crack in your hand. 

You go to your phone and start typing again.

nice to see you with your other frien|

this is why i never|

you need to stop talking to the|

Nothing seems right. You know that you can’t stop him, but it’s egregious. The way he lets the girls touch all over him, how he doesn’t try to stop it. He knows you’re up here. He knows you’ve been watching him and usually around this time of day he would be kissing you like he was yours again.

When you heard the voice of the coach saying it was time to start the meet all of them turned around. The girls whose face you couldn’t see turned around, and you let out a quick sigh of defeat. The girl that was caged in by Anton’s foot and looking at him intently the entire time was the same girl in his dorm that night. She made sure to wait for him to gather his things so she could follow him down the bleachers too, holding out a cautionary hand towards his back like she was going to fall.

you: it’s nice to see you with your other friends.

You sent the text in a blind rage. You saw his hand holding his phone, and felt the quick satisfaction of seeing him receive the notification. You saw him look at his phone and felt sick pride bubble in your chest as his steps faltered on his way down the steps. You saw him type, and in real time you saw the text bubble appear at the bottom of your message history.

anton: you haven’t even seen all of them yet :)

The mock swim meet continued with the same energy. You didn’t know that Anton was such a celebrity. People from colleges who weren’t outwardly cheering him on watched from the bleachers. Even those who were next up weren’t concerned with getting their head in the game; they were concerned with watching Anton get into position on the starting block. The low chatter ceased and there was bated breath. Anton went into each different pose with the countdown, then when the whistle blew he dived in. 

There was a different intensity compared to his practices. Where he was more focused in helping his teammates or talking to his coach, this was different. He launched himself into the pool, he was bringing his arms so quickly into the pool you almost missed it. He pushed off the other side of the pool with ease. That playful attitude was gone, replaced with a need to win at a competition that meant nothing. 

He beat a record, you were sure because everyone was amazed when the final time appeared on the board. The easygoing way he approached practice was replaced with speed and technique. You understood why he was beside the coach during practice and the captain of the team. 

Seeing him win only fueled that anger rolling in your stomach. The sensation became even worse because he was a good swimmer, and he knew that he was playing you. You were also mad because you should’ve been uninterested, but the way he went through the water had you on the edge of your seat watching intently.

The meet went by fast. You were up in your tower, watching as Anton and everyone else made their way out of the pool and put their clothes back on. 

Everyone gathered around the edge with their towels draped over their shoulders, listening to whatever the coaches was saying. You watched Anton meander off to the edge of the group, and then you saw him look up to you. Almost immediately you sat up a little straighter, and when he waved slightly you just clutched your hand at your side.

You don’t think anyone noticed you up there. But a moment after Anton looked up to wave at you, the girl standing beside him looked up next.

You and Anton haven’t talked about her since you came to his dorm that night. You figured that you don’t really have the right to ask because you two weren’t together. The conversation in the courtyard was about being friends. You think the making out was meant as a form of torture, and the fact that you two only kissed in public instead of in private was punishment as well. The girl that was in Anton’s room must’ve known about you, you’re sure of it. She was looking at you like you were familiar, and you saw her take the smallest side-step away from him.

But you’re taken out of your rumination. Anton watched everyone else clear out of the gymnasium and stayed behind like the good captain he was. You were sure he was also fishing for more attention, because almost everyone on their way out congratulated him on his performance. They patted his back and you were rolling your eyes. You noticed that the girl stayed behind too. While Anton was saying goodbye to his teammates, the girl talked to the coach. When everyone had finally left it was the two of them talking to the coach for a while. You were fidgeting in your seat, wondering what their coach was saying to them that had them listening closely and nodding their heads. 

You felt your chin dig into the top of your hand. You knew that it was past the time for thing to be over, and that this meeting was cutting into your after-practice time with him. You two were supposed to be spending a good five minutes kissing like you’d never get the chance to again. 

The first day it was outside the building. The second day it was on the bleachers, when Anton beckoned up to you in the press box and you rushed down. Yesterday, he sent you a text to go come into the locker rooms and you had to pretend to have better judgement just for him to tell you it was clear and you wouldn’t get caught.

Without fail, each time was intense. Anton using one hand to cradle your neck and the other pulling you closer. You were always holding onto him so roughly your fingers would cramp and you’d work through depleted lungs and a tense jaw. You knew you were taking it more serious than him, when his kisses would turn playful you were just as desperate, pulling him closer and tilting your head in an effort to push into him. You were so enveloped you never even commented on how he’d smile into your lips, obviously finding humor in the way you were so clearly obsessed.

You couldn’t tell him to not make fun of you because you were too entranced. You were completely engulfed, completely submerged in everything about him. The way he smelled like chlorine and a warm room, the way he held you even if he found it amusing. He kissed you like he meant it, even if you were sure this was another way of him torturing you for previously torturing him. 

Regardless of how he treated you, the post-practice makeout was the only time that it felt like you two weren’t at odds. Even if he laughed into your kisses and he was always the one to break away from you, that was the tiny sliver of life with Anton where his intent of remaining friends faltered. 

You took your kissing time very seriously. So you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a sigh while watching Anton and the girl and their coach talk. You’re sure it was important. But they were talking for two minutes already and that was two minutes less you’d have of Anton kissing you and pulling you closer. He already spent so much of the meet with her. You wondered what else they could be talking about while you clutched your phone tighter to your chest.

When the coach walks off you let out another breath. This one is relief, you turn the chair next to you to start putting all your things together in your backpack. You waste no time slinging the bag over your shoulder to get ready to meet him poolside. You look down one more time just to get the signal from Anton on where to meet. Instead of him looking up at you with a knowing smile on his face he is looking down at the girl and talking to her.

You can’t stop yourself from plopping yourself down in the chair and letting out an annoyed breath. You tilt back in the chair as much as it will allow, until it creaks and you have to dig your feet into the ground to keep going. The chair rocks back and forth, letting you see Anton and the girl before you go back too far and they disappear from your view. You repeat the motion over and over, tilting back and forth to watch their conversation continue to go on. One minute of Anton kissing is replaced with him talking to the girl. You can’t stop yourself from rocking back and forth, each time they disappear from your view you pray that they won’t still be talking. 

When you rock forward, convincing yourself that you’ll get up and leave this time, you see both of them looking up at you. 

Instantly you straighten. The chair creaks behind you again but you remain upright, not giving to the momentum. You look down at them, hands gripping the armrest as you push yourself further upright. Anton motions to you and the girl reaches a hand up to wave at you. You wave back after a moment, and then Anton is looking at her again. You see her nod, then he puts a hand on her shoulder and she starts walking towards the exit. 

You continued to watch her walk away, leaning forward as far as you could go. You leaned so far you almost slid out of the seat. Only when you saw the exit open do your shoulders relax. You quickly look back where Anton was walking, just to see that he’s standing on the outskirts of your line of sight. He’s smiling up at you, just to exaggerate turning his body towards the exit that the girl walked to. You try to change the subject by getting up from your seat, but Anton puts both of his hands up and mouths stay there. So you stay. You sit back down in the creaky chair and wait for Anton to make his way through the gymnasium to get to you.

Anton knocks and peaks through the door like you wouldn’t be there. You can tell he’s being playful before opening the door fully to come in.

He changed back into the clothes he was wearing before the swim meet. Light wash jeans hugged his thighs and he was wearing something that looked like a band tee. He had a zip-up hoodie slung over his duffle bag.

“You were watching me like a hawk,” he says playfully.

You go to take your backpack out of the chair so Anton can sit but he just comes closer to you instead. He throws his duffel over your bag. Instantly you reach forward and pull his bag off of yours, putting it on the floor.

“I don’t want my bag smelling like chlorine,” you say.

There’s an edge to your voice. Anton picks up on it immediately, raising an eyebrow. He’s slow draping the strap of his back on the back of the chair so it’s not touching the ground.

“Fair enough,” he says casually. 

The refusal to give a reaction makes you even more upset. The fact that he gets on his knees in front of you and parts your legs with his own hands to accommodate his body makes you even more upset. Like he wasn’t whoring himself out for everyone, he puts his head against your knee and cages himself between your legs.

“I wasn’t watching you like a hawk either,” you add.

Anton guides your hand to his head but scoffs. You refuse to touch him, a motionless hand just resting on top of his soft hair.

“I could feel your eyes on me the whole time,” he says

You grip his hair slightly. He only leans into your hand, rubbing gently on your thigh.

Anton moves to fully rest his body against your leg. His other arm wraps around your calf to bring it closer.

“I’m so drained,” he says.

“I’m sure you are,” you scoff.

Your hands in his scalp become a little tighter. You purposefully pull at his hair rough, gripping rather than massaging. He only moves to balance his chin on your knee to look up at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“You just looked busy is all,” you answered.

“Well I was swimming a ton,” he says.

The faux innocence is palpable. His eyes are wide like he’s genuinely confused, but there’s that same haughty smirk he wears after kissing you. You didn’t know he was such a player. You pull at his hair again, he doesn’t wince like you wish he would. He just sighs, leaning into your grip.

“Feels good,” he sighs.

Just for that, you pull a little harder. Finally he winces, eye closing on the side you pulled.

“You like the swim cap I got you?” you ask.

Anton hums a yes. You feel more of his weight lean into your leg, to the point that you have to flex so you can support him. 

“Why didn’t you wear it?” you ask.

You know why. He had to wear the school-issued hat because it was a swim meet. He has to follow your hand to alleviate the pressure. You move a piece of hair from the side of his face to see his reaction. 

“Had to wear the schools,” his arm wraps tighter around your leg. “gotta represent.”

You watch him part his lips to say something else.

“Did you know everyone here?” you ask.

He moves his head so his chin is balanced on your thigh. He looks you right in the eyes and his hands drum a pensive beat on your thigh.

“I went to highschool with some of them. Met some of them through competitions over the years. Friends with a few of the girls—“

At that you pull Anton’s hair too hard. He reaches up to grab your wrist quickly, rounding around it with ease.

“Too rough,” he breathes out. 

“Sorry,” you apologize.

Anton’s hand around your wrist makes you have terrible flashbacks. There are thoughts of him being in this same position with him, playing with his hair after everything. The sound he made when you pulled at his hair made you remember how easily he folded to pain and liked being marked. Despite your apprehension Anton would reveal his neck and chest to you. You’ve compromised with him by leaving a few marks on his waist before his meets, something that would be covered up by his compression shorts. As you look down at his face now you wished you would’ve left an angry mark on his neck. If there was a purplish bruise forming on his chest those girls wouldn’t have been all over him. 

Anton fully lifts his head from your leg to smile. Your cheeks are burning that you were caught being jealous. He just clasps over both of your hands easily, moving them back and forth before he kisses the side of your fist.

“Come with me to the bar tonight,” he says.

Anton was completely indifferent to your confession. He kisses your hand again when you take too long to answer, and you remember that you haven’t kissed his lips in more than twenty-four hours. 

“Who’s going?” you asked.

Anton’s lips are still pressed into your hand before he pulls away slightly. His bottom lip catches on your thumb before he pulls away fully.

“My teammates,” he answers. “the girls from the other colleges are going, too.”

You clench your fists in his hold, your tongue runs over your top row of teeth.

“Why are you inviting me?” you ask.

“I like inviting my friends to functions.” Anton says. 

Your jaw tenses at his answer. The quick answer causes almost a knee-jerk reaction. Your eyes that were always darting around him threatened to roll to the back of your skull. Anton keeps his eyes on you, and you pull your hands from his grasp to reach for your backpack in the seat beside you.

“Yeah. I’ll go,” you say.

Anton perks up immediately, standing to his feet in an instant to clap his hands together.

“That’s great to hear,” he says.

He already is turning around and adjusting his duffel on his shoulder to head for the door.

“As friends,” you add.

“As friends,” Anton repeats.

He opens the door for you, using his foot as a stopper and stretching his arm towards the dark hallway. You’re trying to keep your face neutral, it’s harder to hide when you don’t know how to feel. You just know you’re tired of seeing the smirk on Anton’s face everytime he gets a good look at you. You force yourself to smile as you clutch your strap closer to your body.

“As friends,” you say one last time.

Anton doesn’t repeat it, he just nods as you pass by him, reaching his body forward to nudge you as you tried to make your way through the doorway.

The gymnasium has been completely cleared out by the time you leave. Anton leads the way because most of the buildings lights have been turned off. You have to go a different way than usual, going through the weight room instead of past it like you had before. As he led the way you were thinking about all the possibilities of going to the bar. There’d be girls drinking. The thought of drunk girls surrounding Anton made you upset, and being upset made you cringe inwardly and even more angry. You couldn’t stop thinking about girls becoming more bold and properly touching him, or feeling him up in some dark corner of the bar. Anton was single, he only had friends. You couldn’t stop him but you didn’t want him to go.

He pulls out his phone while he’s walking in front of you. It’s the only source of light in the emptied building. You can see Anton hunched over to look at his screen. You watch his duffle sway back and forth on his shoulder, bumping into his leg while he’s engrossed in whatever is on his screen. 

Your journey is mostly quiet, just the sounds of your feet moving against the linoleum floors. You hear the occasional squeak. The blues from the pool reflect through the hallways. You follow the light of Anton, who is so engrossed in it he doesn’t look up even when opening the door. You’re sure he only holds it open for you from muscle memory, still looking at his phone while he his foot acts as a doorstopper. He only leaves the door when you walk past him. 

You take the quickest peak to the side. You don’t know who you were expecting Anton to text. You hoped it was one of the men on his team, maybe even the coach. But when you took the quickest peak while Anton was enveloped in the conversation it was with the girl. Something about where she parked her car. She was asking about his estimated time of arrival because you saw Anton take a look at the time on the top of his phone before his eyes darted to you.

You were already looking forward by that time. You were sure he saw you inspecting the chat history between him and the girl. Maybe if he slipped up enough you could see him sending the same teasing texts he was sending you. You eye his phone again, trying to focus between looking and taking steps towards your doom. You can’t imagine what a car ride would be like with her. You couldn’t imagine sitting through the journey of Anton sitting in the passenger seat, just to go to a bar where a million girls would hit on him.

You make it to the parking lot. To the left is Anton’s dorm and to the right is yours. Straight ahead there’s the car. You watch Anton wave and the headlights blink twice.

“I call shotgun,” he says casually.

You stop in your tracks. You see the same smirk he’d have whenever he’d pull away after kissing you like his life depended on it. You know he’s not joking, and you imagine how happy he’d be to have you and the girl in the same small confined space together.

Anton turns around after you didn’t follow behind him. His smile doesn’t falter. He only tilts his head casually towards the car and holds out a hand.

You go past the offer to his wrist. You grab it fast, hand wrapping around the bone and you press your fingers into his skin. His arm falters from the sudden force, his body gives when you pull him towards you. The shock on his face is palpable, his eyes are wide and looking at you. The car lights blink again and you go left, pulling Anton after you. 

When you feel the hesitation in his steps you only pull harder. When he staggers because he’s off-balance and confused you only keep going. You deviate from the path to walk on the grass. The car lights fade away and you hear the notifications coming through on Anton’s phone. You only look behind you to make sure Anton is following every single step. He does take a peak at his phone, walking confidently before falling in place behind you.

“Her car is this way,” Anton says, pointing in the opposite direction. 

You barely grunt in response.

“She texted me saying she saw you pull me away,” he continues.

“I don’t care,” you reply.

Despite the unnecessary words, Anton doesn’t stop you from pulling at him. You know the grip you have on his wrist must be painful, but he says nothing. You dig your nails into his wrist just to prove it, you even change where you grip his forearm to get a better hold on him.

“She asked me if everything is okay,” he says.

You can hear his feet dragging across the grassy field. 

“Stop talking about her,” you say quietly.

His dorm is in viewing distance. For the first time since you started moving you feel the slightest resistance in his steps. 

“Where are we going?” he asks.

He talks too much. He has to know where you’re taking him. He knows what his dorm building looks like, he’s walked this path hundreds of times. 

He has been on a mission to push your buttons, prying and asking questions he already has the answers to. Insisting you two are friends but kissing you, showing off his body to anyone who will look, making you come to his practices like you’re a fan. He has had you watching him from a distance entertaining everything that would’ve gotten a rise out of you. You came to him and even apologized. You watched the girl in his dorm room staring at you while you were wallowing in regret and gettin ready to apologize and beg for another chance. You have been working off the regret and shame that came with turning him down you’ve accepted the shit he’s thrown at you. You’ve taken all of that but he won’t even shut up and follow you back to his place. 

After you don’t respond to him you get your moments of silence. You continue to cut across the large grassy quad, breathing through the bursts of liquid anger that bubble in your stomach. The dragging steps calm you, and you think you might be able to vocalize calmly to Anton about where you’re taking him to.

“My friend is waiting up so we gotta go to her car—”

Instantly you turn around. Anton almost bumps into you from the sudden stop.

“We aren’t fucking going to her car, we aren’t going anywhere with her,” you say.

You are still holding onto Anton’s forearm tightly. You can see the dimples in his skin around your fingers from the force. 

Despite this, despite everything, he still has that coy look on his face. 

“Why not?” he asks tilting his head.

You smile, letting out a sigh and closing your eyes. For the first time you let go of Anton’s forearm and your fingers cramp for a second from the rough hold you had on him. 

You take a step forward. Your hand presses to his solid chest and like a lightning strike everything comes down at once. You laugh dryly and take another step forward.

“You think I’m going to go to the fucking bar,” you tilt your own head slightly. “so I can watch a bunch of drunk girls throw themselves at you?” 

Anton keeps the same coy look. There’s a twitch upwards at the corner of his lips. You drag your hand from his chest to his forearm, where your fingers fit right where they were before. You don’t even have to tug on him again. He follows behind you silently. You can feel his arm tensing in your hold.

The first few steps are silent. You make it to the crosswalk.

“Then where are we going?” he asks.

Anton’s question floats in the air right as you two end up in front of his building. 

You’re calmer now though. Instead of having an outburst like you did on the grassy quad. People walk by you two, going in and out of the building. Your hand moves down from Anton’s forearm, interlacing your fingers. He reciprocates the hold, and you guide him to walk at your side.

“We are going to your room,” you say sweetly. “is that not fucking obvious?”

The sudden change of light going into the lobby of the building makes you blink. The harsh fluorescent lights are different from the warm glow of the street lamps. You can see Anton clearly now, and he looks at you like he knows something that you do not.

But he’s obedient. You both make a straight path for the elevators. He presses the button and by a stroke of luck there’s an elevator already waiting for you both. You step in forth, and you pull at his hand to bring him in.

There’s barely any commotion in the lobby. Many people opt to take the stairs, others sit in chairs scattered throughout the space. Some boring movie plays in common area. A residence assistant sits at a brown reception desk, scrolling away on his phone. No one notices you impatiently spamming the button to get the doors to close.

You two both watch the doors come to a close at the same time. In the gray metal reflection you see Anton standing behind you, leaning against the brown speckled wall. There’s a moment before you feel the upwards lurch of ascension. You turn to face him. 

Anton is fully smiling now, and you press both hand to his chest to fully back him into the corner. In the stumble you bring your lips to his.

The clash of teeth causes you both to stumble. You have both of your hands fisted in his shirt, wrapping them in your hold as you bring him closer. He wraps his arms around your waist quick. Like you’re going to lose him you pull even harder, working down to try and find the right place. You kiss him deeper and Anton reciprocates. You push against him harder, until you hear the dull thud of his head hitting the walls of the elevator. You finally find satisfaction in tucking your fingers under the waistband of his jeans where you can feel the bare skin of his waist.

“So warm,” you murmured against his lips. 

Anton was breathing heavy against your face. His lips were already pink and plump, there was a flush across his cheeks. His chest pressed against yours.

Anton mumbled something back and you felt his hands collect around your wrists. With the smallest amount of force you used all of your strength to keep your fingers tucked in his waistband. Anton didn’t pull your hands away but he moved his head backwards. You carelessly chased after him. 

“All mine,” you breathed out.

You don’t know if you said that on purpose. You were feeling heady, because Anton followed after you and showed no intent on disobeying. The more you press your fingers against his waist the more you think about Anton looking to you while talking to the girl. He was trying to make you jealous. The conversation in the press box, the intense makeout sessions. All of it was a ploy to get you here, pressing desperately against him and trying to swap more spit with him.

“All yours?” Anton asked.

“You’re mine,” you answer. “tired of pretending you’re not.”

He leaned fully in the corner of the elevator, standing straight to look down at you. You nodded without missing a beat and Anton shivered against your body.

His hands were still wrapped around your wrists. The elevator continued to dinged as it climbed up the floors. You thought that you had been in here for a century because something grand was waiting for you at the end of the journey. You didn’t even bother looking towards the door, busy trying to push past the threshold of Anton’s strength to go deeper into his jeans. The denim was already causing enough resistance. After you maintain eye contact there’s not only a lack of force from Anton’s hands, but guidance. He pushes your hands further into his pants, and you go even deeper. You can feel his dick hardening in his boxers, you can feel his taut skin against your fingertips.

You hear the ding of the elevator and it opens up to Anton’s floor. The hallway to his room seems so far but you have to take the trek. You pull your hands out of Anton’s pants to tug at his belt loop. He gets the hint and walks out of the elevator past you. Under the bright light of the elevator you can see him trying to catch his breath. 

Anton makes his way down the hallway leisurely. You’re walking behind him, dragging your feet because he’s doing the same. You take this time to be all over him: running your hand up and down his back, shifting your hands into his pockets, touching his hair. Every part of Anton you can touch you do. 

You’re still pawing at him when you get to his door. You feel the hard planes while you hear the sound of a key bumping into metal, a door handle failing to turn fully and the small sounds of Anton’s exasperated sounds. You’re pushing a little harder into him, wrapping your arms around his body. You feel up his arms and his hands, failing to put the key in and failing to properly open the door.

“Anton,” you whine. “hurry up.”

“I’m sorry baby,” he says gently.

You keep leaning against his body, until your ear is pressed to his back. When you’re flush against him you feel the light vibration of laughter, and you pull away instantly.

“Are you messing up on purpose?” you ask.

This is the loudest you’ve ever been in this hallway. The words bounce off the wall and has Anton looking over his shoulder to properly laugh at you.

You snatch the keys from his hand and bump into his body to push him out of the way. He purposefully puts his hand on your shoulder, trying to cage you in. You don’t falter, shrugging your shoulder to get his hand off of you. When you actually miss the keyhole Anton laughs even louder. 

Then, a second later the door opens. It’s a sound that comes with relief from you, and you step through the threshold first. You pull him in after you because he’s standing not moving an inch. By both hands on his arms you pull him and Anton lets himself be pulled, all the way until your back is against the door and he’s caging you against it. You bring him down by a hand on his neck until he bends into you. 

You’re purposefully sloppy with your kisses. You figure it’s giving him a taste of his own medicine, sticking your tongue inside until it touches his. Your hands are spanning down his chest, unzipping his hoodie and pushing it off his shoulders and revealing his undershirt. You run your hands over the ribbed fabric, going over his chest and even kneading his solid body. When he tries to touch your waist you reach down and smack his wrist away.

You’ve wanted his touches. You gave him the chance to reciprocate. You need time to reclaim everything before he tries to do the same. 

On the third smack of his wrist he finally understands. He presses his forearms to the door on either side of your body when your tongue runs over his lips.

“I don’t know why I let you convince yourself that you’re hard to read,” Anton says.

His chest pushes into yours each time he breathes. You think it’s your spit peaking past his lips. Your hand tucks underneath his waistband again and you reach your hands deep, until you’re hand is pressed between denim and muscular thighs. You like the perverted gropes you’re taking of his body and how he lets you. You keep feeling him, working your way to his soft inner-thigh. You can feel his dick twitching against your hand, but you refuse to touch him just yet. Reclaiming what’s yours, that’s all you’re doing.

“Touch me already,” you order against his lips.

“Yes ma’am,” he says.

You know that he’s taunting you but he slides his hand to the base of your neck to grip it. He bends his head to the crook of your neck and you press your head against the door, elongating it to give him more space. 

“You think I don’t know when you’re jealous?” he asks.

His lips are on the column of your neck, each word is ghosted over your clammy skin and you can feel the warmth of his breath.

You nod your head. Then you shake it. Then you start pulling at Anton’s leg while the other presses against his back to bring him closer.

He gets so close that he’s almost pressing into the door too. You hear it move in the frame, and you can feel Anton’s thigh come between your legs.

Anton’s hand briefly leaves your neck to go to your shoulder. He presses his hand down, pushing you down. He keeps pushing you, until you finally feel his solid leg pressed between yours. You immediately grind against him, and a pathetic sound slips through your lips when his hand goes back to your neck. 

Anton pulls away. He looks you in the face and your eyes are already watery, and you grind your hips in the smallest motion against him again. He kisses the tip of your nose, then your hot cheeks. He ends with placing a kiss on your forehead, smiling when he looks down at you.

“You’re so pent up you think you’d cum like this?” he asks. 

Before you can answer Anton pushes his own leg up. The random pressure makes you jolt, causing the door to move in its frame again. 

“Not jealous,” you push the words from the back of your throat as you apply more weight against his leg. “I don’t get jealous.”

He presses a kiss to the sensitive part of your neck. You tilt it to the side and try to bring him closer while your hips move slowly again.

“Not even when those girls were touching on me?” he asks.

You grind even harder against his thigh. You can’t tell if there’s something going on outside of your immediate senses. You think you feel yourself sliding down the door, you can feel your feet firmly planted into the ground. Anton is lower too, when he had to bend to kiss you it’s now you having to bend down to him. He kisses your neck hungrily, and a hand goes to your hips to keep guiding you back and forth. He forces your movements to be bigger. Tiny grinds that were just winding you up turns into something more languid. It feels too much like the real thing, especially after not having it for so long. 

“I was getting so jealous, you know.” Anton’s fingers slip underneath your shirt, fingertips pressing into your soft stomach. He makes you grind harder into his thigh. The feeling almost makes you forget what he was saying to you. You have to nod dumbly before moving your hands to his shoulders to focus. “I had to let you know how I was feeling,” he says.

“Jealous of what?” you ask.

“Everything,” he says casually.

Anton shrugs his shoulders like it’s nothing. You have to fight moving against the feeling of his leg between yours to refocus.

“Like what?” you ask.

Anton sighs and looks off to the side. He still guides your hips with his hand like it’s a mindless task he’s tending to. He looks back up at you with a smile on his face.

“The people you talked to in public,” his hand dips underneath your jeans to press fingers into your ass. He guides your hips by pushing on your soft skin. You can feel the force a little more while he thinks about it. “The people you were dancing with before you’d come see me.”

Anton laughs for a moment. You grip his shoulders and drop your head to his neck. You twist his undershirt in your hold when you feel that churn building in the pit of your stomach. 

“When it was really bad I was jealous of the food you’d eat and the music you’d listen to,” Anton’s voice is heavy and labored as he talks. “I was getting jealous thinking about what you were watching instead of watching me swim.”

You can’t bring yourself to say anything. You’e just letting out desperate whines into his neck and clawing lightly on his back.

“I just hide it better than you,” he says.

Only that brings you from your concupiscent stupor. You pull your head up from his neck, hands trailing up his body to grip at his hair harshly.

“Well I’m not throwing myself at a group of guys like a fucking whore,” you seethe.

“I had to do a little extra to make you feel the way I was feeling,” he says.

Suddenly you find yourself pushing at Anton’s broad shoulders. You engage your legs, working through the sore feeling to stand up fully. Anton looks up at you from the ground. On one knee it looks like he’s about to propose to you. Despite your lack of response he shows no remorse in his honesty, he almost seems happy as he looks up at you. 

“Go,” you point weakly to the couch behind him, swallowing the spit that gathered in your mouth and the shaky tone in your voice from grinding against his leg. “go to the couch,” you order.

Anton obeys immediately. He gets up from one knee but still faces you, watching you breathing heavy by his door. You follow him by mirroring each step. You’re slow, stalking him like prey while he’s walking like he’s baiting you in. 

His legs hit the back of the couch but you don’t stop. You get close until you’re chest to chest. One hand goes to your waist and the other goes to your chin, tilting your head up until you look at him. 

“I got you jealous, didn’t I?” he asks. 

Anton leaves the place on your hips to point at your face. That word sticks out in the most annoying way, nagging and constantly mentioned. When his finger stays in your face you smack it away. 

He only laughs. You push him until he’s sitting down on the couch.

“I knew it,” he says.

“Don’t make fun of me,” you chide.

“You deserve it,” he says.

Anton widens his legs. He’s splayed out for you, dick jumping in his pants. He’s inviting, despite what he may think he’s all yours. 

“I’ve suffered enough,” you say honestly.

You motion towards his undershirt. His hands that were resting on his thighs went to the bottom, grabbing the fabric. He only flicked the fabric up, making a part of his lower stomach bare. You can see his navel, you know where that vein on his stomach leads to. It disappears underneath the start of his pants.

“Take it off,” you say.

Anton leans slides from the back of the couch until he’s partially lying down on the cushions. He scoots a little closer to the end, until he can partially rest his head on the armrest. More of his shirt rides up from the movement. You can see the outline of his abs, flexing each time he moves.

“Make me,” he says.

You’re rough when you close the distance. Anton is lifting his hands preemptively, shirt riding up even higher. You pull the shirt up and over his head, tossing it somewhere. You have a knee on the couch beside his leg but you refuse to come closer. You create the distance so Anton has to look up at you. His hair is jostled from you taking off his shirt, brown strands layering across his forehead. Through his bangs he looks up at you, a playful glint in his brown eyes. You reach for his waistband next. You purposefully leave his boxers on but pull his pants off angrily. Anton is little to no help, only lifting his hips off the couch so you can pull at him again. The muscles underneath his skin tense and flex from all the movement.

He’s too beautiful. He’s Adonis on the couch, his legs are over the edge of the couch so you can sit next to him. You’re able to sit next to him and admire all of it. His hand goes behind his head on the couch and he settles in. Your hands run up and down his body, light as a feather. You go over his chest like a cross, going over the thin chain that hangs from his neck. You go across his nipples, pebbled from the attention and the cold air in his room. You go over the side of his body, strong and chiseled from swim before going right back to the vein on his lower stomach. You repeat it over and over again. Anton is still relaxed but he lets out a shaky breath. 

You don’t look up at him. Just seeing his body and remembering that other people were able to see it today makes heat flare in your chest. If you saw the face attached you’d vocalize it. You’d probably tell him he’s never allowed to go to a swim meet again or force him to delete and block that girls number. You’re determined to find a medium between what you’ve given Anton thus far and how you plan on carrying the relationship in the future.

“How’d you feel when you saw me talking to her?” Anton whispers. 

You can’t stop the tick. It’s a twitch in your jaw and the slight pause of your hand. The moment only lasts a second but Anton sees it, a smile on his face as he runs light fingers up and down your arms. You lean back on your haunches, feeling his hands go up to your shoulders before going back down. 

You refuse to answer. You just run your fingers over the thin red lines you left on his chest. 

“You know she’s not interested in me, right?” Anton’s hands are gentle going up and down your arms. He tilts his head to the side before his hands go to your head, patting your hair affectionately. “I’m not sure about the other girls but I can say for a fact she’s not into me.”

“She was in your apartment,” you say.

Anton’s eyes get wide. You were a little too harsh when you spoke. Instead of being breathy your words were firm. This was also your first time bringing up seeing the girl in his dorm. She had been so close to him during the meet and she saw you come to his dorm to confess.

Anton’s hands go down your arms to rest over your hands. He clasps your hands with his, and leans forward so he’s in your line of sight.

“She was coming over to talk about a leadership role on the team,” he says gently.

Anton sits up on the couch, fully propped up on his elbows to look at you. When he sees the pout you can’t stop he smiles.

“She thinks you’re nice by the way,” he says while leaning back. He settles against the armrest of the couch. “if only she knew.”

“That doesn’t matter,” you say.

You see Anton tilt his head to the side. He narrows his eyes. His hands go from your hands up to your forearms. He pulls you a little closer.

“What doesn’t matter?” he asks.

You come a little closer to him and run your hands over his stomach. The light red marks are still there, you touch him lighter. You tilt your head to match his, leaning into him a little more.  

“Doesn’t matter how bad someone else wants you if it belongs to me.”

Your confession was purposefully saccharine. You laid it on thick and worked through the cringe you felt prickling across your body. You felt sexy enough. You saw Anton twitch in his pants and he held your forearms a little tighter.

“What’s it?” he asks.

“You know,” you answer. 

Anton shakes his head.

“No,” he says, tapping on your forearms. “you gotta be a little more specific than that.”

“You know,” you said.

“I really don’t,” he says, laughing.

You said nothing, only focusing on unbuttoning the top of Anton’s jeans. You didn’t bother pushing the jeans further down than his mid-thigh. When you saw the bulge you stopped pushing the denim down, instead reaching your hand underneath his waistband to grab his dick. Anton wastes no time to buck into your hand, and you watch his muscles contract as he sits up on the couch. 

He props himself up on his elbow, with his other arm pressed between your body and the back of the couch just to keep a hand on the small of your back. When he moved his chain caught the light perfectly, reflecting slightly on his skin and yours. He was able to go underneath the bottom of your shirt to press into your back. When you pulsed your grip around his dick he pressed into your skin deeper.

“If I had known having girls as my friends would make you act like this,” he started.

The thought of Anton with other girls makes you squeeze your fist around him a little tighter. He tilts his head back, revealing his neck and underside of his chin. You can see the patch of light stubble he missed and his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. You repeat the motion just to see it again. His lips part and his head leans to the side, balanced against his elbow before he turns to look at you.

His euphoria is undeniable. His lip between his bottom teeth, his eyelids dropping low as he looks at you.

“I would’ve done all that sooner,” he finishes.

You have a firm grip on his dick, moving against the restriction of his underwear. You see his hands flex from the sensation, arms tensing where they’re propped to keep his body up.

“I would’ve danced with a girl at that warehouse,” he says.

You tease him where he’s most sensitive, rubbing precum with your thumb on the underside of his tip. You watch his hands tense as he tries to center himself. You increase the speed. His hips jerk the tiniest way into your hand. You like watching the pathetic movement and seeing his face mix with the pain of being teased and the euphoria of being touched.

You continue moving your hand, causing a protrusion in his boxers. You lean in close to Anton when you hear the wet sound of your rough handjob. Now it’s you tracing your nose along his sharp jawline. You go to his neck, tracing upwards and he thrusts into your fist.

“I wouldn’t let that happen,” you say. 

You suck on his earlobe and you follow after his head before he tilts it back to look at you. 

“You wouldn’t let that happen?” he asks.

You shake your head, going back to the teasing your thumb on his tip. He reacts instantly, a weak thrust as he pulls his bottom lip between his teeth.

Your hand that wasn’t fisting his dick scratched down his abs. You reveled in his reaction, feeling him adjust his hand on your back to push into you deeper.

“We wasted so much time,” you said quietly.

“You wasted so much time,” Anton clarified.

He hissed when you pressed your nails deeper on the drag down, leaving red streaks in their tracks. You sped up your hand too. Anton scooted down the mattress to get closer to you.

“So much time was wasted,” you rephrased.

The marks you left faded to a blush pink as your fingers moved further down. You kept going, focusing on your hands on his body instead of his face.

You made it to Anton’s boxers. You tucked your fingers underneath the cotton feeling them lock into place against his skin. His skin was hot from all the layers of clothes and the touching. You couldn’t stop yourself from taking one hand away to feel the rest of his body. He was so sculpted, every part of him showed discipline. You didn’t stop, tracing over the same pattern again and again. He was so soft too, you changed your touch from your fingernails to the pads of your fingers just to really feel him. 

You purposefully went lighter, the prodding turning to featherlight brushes. Anton was big but he was sensitive, skin jumping as he suppressed the urge to flinch away from the tickling. 

You were driven by his reactions. Anton was dedicated to the nonchalant demeanor as of late. He made out with you everyday until you were breathless but kept the same even tone, he let girls flirt with him while you were watching. He’s been so cool that seeing his body twitch away from you made you keep going. Your touches went even lighter, until you started to feel the tickle on the pads of your finger. The tiniest whimper had you looking to his face, and the same time your eyes widened he collected your hand with his wrist. 

You were held in place before you could trace your way back up his side. He was settled further into the couch, shoulders leaned against the armrest. 

“You were just talking about wasting time right?” he asked.

You nodded. You watched Anton’s hands go to his jeans that were still caught on his mid-thigh.

“Right,” you agreed.

You took your hand out of his boxers and began pulling them down. Anton was pulling his jeans down and you followed with his underwear. He also moved away from the couch, and you moved your legs to straddle his waist. You leaned your body forward to rest your head on his chest as you started taking your own pants off. The angle was awkward, both you and Anton were in the pursuit of wasting no more time that you both became clumsy. Your pants were caught on your ankles, you had to fully rest your body on his to get it off. Anton struggled against his jeans too, you heard the quick thrashing of him getting them fully off as you went back to straddling him.

You were desperate to waste no more time. You didn’t ask Anton to finger you, you even shook your head and smacked his hand away when he tried it. You were very serious about your foreplay. You saw the shocked look on Anton’s face when he moved his hand away from your pussy to instead hold your hips. You watched him get comfortable only for a second. You were sure his long legs were over the edge of the couch to accommodate his height.

“You sure?” he asked.

He looked so pretty underneath you. His dark was splayed against the dark cushion of his couch. He looked up to you with his eyes already blown out, but still so concerned with your pleasure. You were very serious about your foreplay. Anton was serious about yours too.

“I’m sure,” you said, nodding your head.

One hand balanced on his chest, right above his heart. Your other hand went between your two body’s. When you grabbed his dick in your hand you both gasped. There was something prickling in the air. Something felt new. Like it was the first time. You held his dick up straight and pulled in a breath, feeling the excitement tingle over your entire body. When you felt the tip prod you, your entire body tensed.

Anton’s thumbs started rubbing your waist gently. You felt each individual finger dimple your skin.

“Just relax,” he says carefully.

You nod again, bending your head so it’s facing away from him completely. You bite your lip and focus on the inside of your elbow. 

You let your hips sink. Anton’s body underneath your hand also stills. You can feel the intrusion, then the pressure when you get him inside. 

It’s like the first time again. You’re taken back to that first time you met him at the warehouse party and took him home. You two were in the same position then, after an hour of making out and messy foreplay. You didn’t know you’d be in this same position with him, with so much history behind it. Your walls close around him and it’s impossible to move further down. You pitifully pulse around just his tip and a little bit of his shaft, feeling like you’re already getting fucked.

“You got it baby,” he encourages. You hear the falter in his voice, when he has to pull in a sharp breath before the words crack. “you said it’s yours, right?”

“Yeah,” you answer.

You feel another inch inside of you. He presses against every part of you, and you can feel it deep. Anton’s fingers massage your hips, but you can feel quick moments of him holding you extremely tight.

“It’s all yours,” he repeats. “just gotta take it.”

You nod, still focusing on that part in your elbow. You press your teeth into your bottom lip, trying to take it.

“Look at me baby,” Anton says.

You put both hands on Anton’s chest and listen to what he said. You pull away from yourself to look down at him. 

He became wrecked in the small amount of time, cheeks fully flushed. You can tell his face is warm to the touch, and his own lip is red and swollen from being bit. You feel yourself loosen around him, all the want you’ve felt since Anton’s birthday helps your hips go further down.

Your hips can finally grind against his and Anton’s breathy words turn into a whimper. His fingers hold onto your hips rough. He guides your hips in the smallest motion back and forth. You grind against his waist, getting used to feeling him inside of you again. His lips are parted in ecstasy, you bring a hand to touch his cheek.

“I missed you,” you said quickly.

“I missed you too,” he says back immediately.

He feels so good inside of you. He fits inside like a puzzle piece. You already feel tears prickling your vision. You know Anton sees it, because his grip switches back to soothing circles. You can’t bring yourself to stop. He feels so good, even if you’re only moving your hips in the smallest motion. You need to feel him deep, you don’t think you find any pleasure in the speed or the roughness or the size. You just need to feel him pulse and press against your walls. The small moves you take is only supposed to prove that he’s inside.

“You know I’m not usually like this, right?” you ask.

You’re pleading with him to see your side of things. You should’ve been riding him for doing so good at his swim meet, or fucking him with a vengeance to get back at him for flirting with those girls. Whatever you were feeling fizzled into this, pathetic little whimpers and holding him for stability. 

You may have been immature before and you didn’t tell him how you felt but it’s not fair what he’s been doing to you. He’s been inconsiderate of your feelings, not understanding how it would make you feel to see him with all those girls. The attention he receives from people who aren’t you is unfair. 

You keep moving despite the burn in your legs. You were alternating between grinding and small little bounces, trying to get more. You don’t know what it is, but it’s not enough. Your hands go to Anton’s chest, your nails digging into his flesh.

“I’m not usually like this,” you repeat.

You’ve been desperate for Anton before, you’re sure of it. Times you’ve held him tight, times you’ve whimpered and said you needed more. There were times you begged Anton just for a touch, you’ve texted him before that you’ve needed to come over immediately. 

But this was unlike you to be grinding against him and refusing to even lift your hips because you just needed him to be inside. Your voice is so close to breaking you think if you lifted your hips you wouldn’t be able to stop the tears. You don’t know what you were close to crying about, you didn’t know why you were feeling everything so intensely. His body sways with yours from how much strength you put behind your hips.

“I know, I know,” Anton says honestly.

Before he brings a hand down on your ass you’re already pouting from him making fun of you. 

“I’m serious,” you lament.

Your hips move against Anton’s, you can feel his dick hitting deep. Each time you rotate your hips it’s like he touches something else. You can’t stop yourself from doing the motions, even if you need more to orgasm. 

You bite your lip and press a hand to Anton’s lower stomach to stabilize yourself. One of his hands leaves your ass to go over your hand, carding his fingers through the gaps.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks.

His voice is even, making you feel even more desperate. You rotate your hips the other way and a moan falls from your lips.

“I need it,” you moan.

“You’ve got it,” he says lowly. “you’re taking it.”

You shake your head and bend forward, until you’re chest to chest and your grinds against him barely do anything. 

“Need it in that way we did it one time,” you whimper.

Anton stills underneath you. His hand that was holding yours freezes. Everything about him is still and you get ready to explain in detail what you need.

“That time you said it was too much?” he asks.

You nod into the crook of Anton’s neck. Your moans are quiet just by knowing Anton remembers what you’re talking about.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Please,” you beg.

In the middle of another pathetic grind Anton stops your hips. You didn’t realize how weak you had become because he exerts almost nothing to stop you. 

He pushes his body up from the couch and your chests are touching. Then he moves you quick, where his feet are touching the ground and you’re still straddling him. 

“Not enough room,” he says simply.

There’s no teasing in his voice, only analytic. His arm wraps around your body and cages you closer to him. You’re almost satisfied with the closeness, you flick your hips again.

But you try to grind your hips again and he lifts you off the couch entirely. He’s still inside of you but the lack of stability forces an impatient whine. He presses a kiss to the side of your head over your hair, letting out a labored breath. You go to his neck and suck on the skin underneath his ear, you even press your teeth into him.

When he takes a step towards his room you shake your head. You know his soft springy mattress is too forgiving and would mitigate the strength you need to feel. You pull away from his neck, looking at the spit bead around the angry red mark. You look Anton right in the eyes, the brown almost lost to his blown out pupils. There’s no trace of playfulness. You feel like he is finally understanding the weight of your situation.

“Do it here, on the floor,” you say.

Anton readjusts you in his hold. You feel his dick pulse inside of you.

When you first started seeing Anton, he fucked like he had something to prove. Maybe it was your nonchalant attitude towards him or that you two only got together after a party. You thought he was determined to make you a part of his revolving list of hookups so he pulled out all of the stops. His energy was endless, endurance and strength lapped yours a hundred times over. He was pulling out positions you had never done before, prefacing everything with a shy this will feel good. 

You had seen him after a swim competition and you could tell he was trying to get something out of his system. He asked you to try something new in that innocent voice and you complied. Before you knew it your knees were bent to your chest while Anton pressed his weight into you. His arm was possessively wrapped around your ankle and your calves were pressed to his shoulder. The stretch, the strength, the way you couldn’t look away from him was too much. Everything about it was too intimate, and when Anton told you it was the best he’s ever felt you had to tap on his mattress to get him to stop. 

You need that right now. You need to be forced to look him in the eyes and have him unbelievably close, burning your legs from the stretch and hitting deep. Your body won’t settle for anything less. 

Anton finally understands. He lays you down on the ground and gets on top of you immediately. You relax your legs just to see Anton put you the way he wants. Just like the first time he grabs your ankles and settles between your legs. You feel his muscular legs cage you in, and the beginning of the stretch starts when he guides your legs to rest on his shoulders. Anton scoots closer and you know that this was what you needed. This wasn’t a want anymore but a necessity, you started clawing at Anton’s legs when he was taking too long.

“I need you, Anton.”

“You got me.” His hand reaches where you can’t see it, but you can feel the brush of his knuckles on your inner thigh. You can hear the wet sound of precum, you can feel some of it smearing across your skin. “I’m right here,” he whispers.

With each movement his chain dangles above you. The silver is almost mocking you, dangling above you like a taunt. You want to reach up and take it into your mouth. 

You feel him lining up again. You try to move further down but the position makes it pointless. Anton comes even closer, you feel your ass lift off the ground as he tilts your body up.

“Can’t you see how responsible I am?” he asks.

You’re lost in the throes of anticipation that your mind is hazy. Anton asked you a question. You blink and nod your head, thinking about responsibility.

Anton teases you, his dick pushing between your folds. You both twitch at the same time from the sensation, you let out a groan and Anton lets out a tiny whimper.

“We are so in tune with eachother,” he says. His tip nudges your clit again, then catches slightly on your hole. He’s so close to where you need him the most. “I know you can read me like a book too.”

“I try my best,” you say.

Tears are threatening to spill past your water line from being teased. You’re in this position, your body being curved unnaturally from Anton’s weight. He brings his body closer to you, making the stretch in your legs feel even more severe. You whine underneath the stretch, you know your walls are fluttering around nothing.

Anton doesn’t push into you any further. There’s a lack of air from the amount of want and the position you’re in. He looks down between the two of you, just watching how his dick nudges and catches on you.

“Give me another chance after all of this,” you whimper. “I just need you to help me get this out of my system.”

“All that jealousy?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding. “all of it.”

“What about after this?” he asks.

“I’ll tell you how I’m feeling all the time,” you answer.

As if that was what Anton needed to hear, he slid inside instantly. The position and your wetness made it easy. He was sheathed, hips kissing your ass and your face instantly contorted from the pleasure. Anton closed his eyes tight, letting his head hand low before he looked at down at you again.

He pulls out all the way. You know he’s covered in you, and he leans even more into you. You see his hair fall slightly to look down at you. You mirror his expression, eyebrows knitting together in anticipation.

“Don’t hold back from me anymore.” Before you can reply he pushes all the way into you again. It’s the deepest you’ve ever felt him, like your body is trying to expel him but suck him in even deeper. He pulls out a little to push right back in and a gasp is punched out of your gut. “Hurts my feelings,” he says.

“I won’t,” you whimper. Your hands are pulling at his muscular arms in an attempt to get him closer. “please don’t stop.”

Anton nods and keeps going. The wet sound fills the room, bouncing off the couch right next to you both. The hard ground doesn’t yield, giving Anton the proper stability to plant his body to go deeper. His hand holds your shoulder to keep you from sliding.

The ground doesn’t even hurt. Your body is thrumming with every movement, feeling him consume you and give you what you need. Anton is consistent. He’s fucking you like he wants you to be here forever. You don’t want it to end, impatiently pulling at him and whimpering each time his pace falters.

You see the seat accumulating at his brow line. Your body’s are starting to stick together from all the sweat, you can feel your body leaving a sweaty imprint on his rug. Anton doesn’t stop, despite the burn he may feel and it makes your body reach that high again. Your hand goes to his cheek, pinching his soft skin.

“I love you,” you say.

The declaration hangs in the air. Anton stops, partially sheathed inside of you. His eyes focus blinking rapidly down at you. You don’t regret it. You nod when he says nothing in response, still rubbing his cheek gently.

“I really do,” you lament.

The moment of silence ends abruptly. Your legs fall from his shoulders to his waist, Anton comes all the way down until your pressed chest to chest. Your ass goes from being partially suspended in the air to pressed fully into the carpet. Anton wraps his arms around your body, pulling you impossibly closer to him. You feel the cold sweat on his chest and his hammering heartbeat.

Anton looks you right in the face. The tip of his nose touches yours, deep exhales fan across your face.

“I love you too,” he says.

Anton immediately resumes the brutal pace. You’re sliding across the covers now, held in Anton’s arms and feeling it all. Not only dos he pulse inside of you but his entire body ripples against you, muscles contracting as he gives you everything. You hear his legs moving against the carpet. He changes between fucking you forward, pulling you back, and pulling you up into him. 

You’re just as lost. The sounds you make are pathetic and feral. Whimpers that are cut off from a fast thrust, a moan that’s loud and prolonged when it’s deep. You can’t control anything, only digging your nails into your back to keep him there.

“Feels so good,” Anton whimpers. His voice has changed. It’s weak but firm, like everything in him has to get the words out no matter what. You nod against his head, finally feeling the warm tears slide down your face. You feel something wet against your cheek too, and when Anton sniffles between another moan you know what it is.

You pull Anton away from your neck by a gentle handful of his hair. Although it’s awful to not have every part of him pressed into you, you need to see his face. He’s reluctant only for a second, but then he presses his forehead into yours. You look into his teary eyes and he does it back. You both sniffle at the same time before Anton presses his lips to yours. The chaste kisses become carnal quick. Your tongues touch after you both push them past your lips. It’s messy, the wet muscle going over teeth and overlining lips before they find their way back. You’re tilting your head and Anton does the same. You are already running out of breath, feeding off of the euphoria of being so close. 

Anton’s devolve to rutting. Your moans are cut off abruptly, and you can feel your walls spasming around him. 

“I’m so close,” you whimper between kisses.

Anton nods and breaks apart.

“Me too,” he wedges a hand between your two body’s and instantly goes to your clit. Your body twitches against his. immediately, and you know you’re leaving terrible marks on his back. “cum with me baby, please,” he begs.

There’s nothing you can do after he asks. His fingers were moving perfect circles between his thrusts, and he was pressing against your walls more intensely. Everything was magnified, his body against yours, the sweat, the movement, the kissing, his cold chain against your skin. You couldn’t have resisted even if you wanted to. You brought him closer just to feel the weight of his body against yours, and your entire body was releasing at once. You felt the climax, mouth opening to let out loud moans. Anton did the same, pulling apart slightly to drive into you the last few times before stilling. His breathy moans were louder than yours, and he was holding tight to any part of your body he could touch. You let it happen, the coil that snapped seemed to twist even tighter before snapping again.

Your sounds eventually subsided. Anton was still letting out breathy whimpers, almost sounding pained from how good it felt.

Even after he finishes he stays in. Each twitch of his dick is twinned by your walls pulsing around him. You feel another spurt and can feel yourself gush around him again. Even with him inside it leaks. You can feel the mess web between your thighs and his balls. The stickiness doesn’t deter either of you. Anton lets your legs fall in a more comfortable way, sliding from the hold of his weight. There’s a shudder through your body, and you can feel more of you and Anton seep from you.

He kisses you with the same fervor as before. The orgasm was spent with you too moaning in eachothers mouths, whining loudly and swapping spit. Anton’s whiny moans got quieter, but were still prominent each time you pulsed around him.

“That’s what you needed, right?” he asked.

Anton looks at you sincerely. You can see the  skepticism. He has the same somber look that you used to ignore before shutting him out. You know it was the heat of the moment, you know that Anton knows you have the habit of getting sentimental when you’re close.

The flighty feeling is gone. You’re grounded, despite Anton partially lifting his weight off of you and instead using a forearm beside your head to hold himself up. 

“You know after this if you pretend like I don’t exist after, I’ll actually move on this time,” he says.

You hold his face with both of your hands.

“I meant everything I said,” you say, not breaking eye contact. “I really won’t hold back anymore. I’ll tell you how I’m feeling all the time.”

“You really want me around?” he asks. He holds your cheek gently, rubbing a thumb over your skin. “Not just for this?”

“I want it all,” you say. “I’m sorry I wasn’t upfront about that before.”

“I want it too,” he says. “I always have.”

There’s a moment of silence. Anton plays with your hand before putting it to his chest. His heart is beating like a drum.

“So I guess I’ll be seeing you around then?” you ask.

You chuckle against his chest. You don’t know why hearing him say it like that is so funny.

a/n: we are so close to half way through and i'm deciding on which way i want to go with this. you are more than welcome to comment what you think will happen tho.

a/n: we are so close to half way through and i'm deciding on which way i want to go with this. you are more than welcome to comment what you think will happen tho.