MistlitMoonlight

“Your task for this morning is easy. Just open the box without destroying it.” Your professor’s instructions are simple and easy as he said, yet it makes no sense. Upon seeing the box, it was pretty obvious it was solid. How could you open something solid without breaking it apart?

Mr. Choi creates confusion in the whole class by casting his stupid activity early in the morning. You thank Fuck that homeroom classes don’t bear any standing to your actual grades.

You’re afraid if they did, Kim Seungmin would’ve sabotaged you a long time ago.

Because of the class’ lack of importance to your marks, no one really takes the activity seriously, and it seems that Mr. Choi doesn’t even mind. Maybe he had already anticipated this response. So, he just sits on the table in front waiting for the hour to go by and your classmates proceed to gossip among each other.

Surprisingly, Seungmin seems to be interested in the cube, running his fingers along the sides before placing it back on the table. “Isn’t the easiest way to just tear it apart wood by wood?”

“That’d take too long, and we only have about half an hour left before this class ends.”

Seungmin doesn’t say anything else after that, choosing to pull out his phone and play some mobile games to pass the time. And soon enough, Mr. Choi dismisses the class and tells you to try the activity again next Monday. For now, just leave the cubes on your desk.

The rest of the day, you’re powered by 40% coffee and 60% the thought of running home to sleep.

There’s nothing more beautiful than being comforted by your own sheets and pillows while they lull you to sleep. However, dreams are easily shattered by the reminder that you still have hours before you can make it back home.

This is hours of homework, quizzes, dealing with Seungmin, the obnoxious cackling of students around you, and your sadistic teachers who assign you more and more assignments despite the deadline just passing.

The peak of your satirical life? Being struck with Hanahaki disease.

Fate truly is a bitch.

The petals usually came in waves, twisting at your throat as the flower forced itself down your throat. It comes and goes seldomly, and it’d never been anything more than a throbbing pain in the form of a cough every now and then. Assuming it’d pass quickly, you told yourself to just get used to the feeling. Besides, it was harmless.

You couldn’t be any more wrong.

Time doesn’t even give you a month before you’re hunching over toilet seats with choked gasps and salty eyes. All of a sudden, the waves are no longer stuck in your throat. The flower doesn’t shy away now. Instead, they rise and rise until you’re puking blood and petals.

And it’s horrible. Who knew unrequited love could be so horrible? If you’d known this would happen, maybe you could’ve tried actively avoiding falling in love with Lee Felix. Not that you even planned on falling in love anyway.

Lee Felix was a classmate—a beautiful, genius form of sunlight that you could only wish to be around. When you saw him, you immediately recognized his brilliance. Felix has always reached for the stars, and you were a fool to think you could compare with his greatness. Lee Felix flies, and all you can do is fall.

But even in your fall, Felix swoops downwards to catch you, asking if you’re alright, patting your back in encouragement. And he smiles.

Lee Felix always smiles.

He smiles as he acknowledges every single person in his classes. He smiles at his friends when they’re together in the hallways. He smiles at teachers and strangers alike. He smiles and you curse yourself for hoping to be able to fly with him someday.

Sighing, you push your thoughts away in favor of focusing on the loud ringing of your school bells, signifying the end of your classes for the day.

Walking through the hallways of your school after class should’ve been an easy task. Yet, it seems that fate is not done laughing at you when you feel the familiar, suffocating lump in your lungs. Almost instantly, you’re scrambling through the crowd of people in sheer panic of causing a scene in front of so many students.

You head towards the nearest bathroom, fumbling with the door and staggering into a stall. With your shaking hands on the toilet and knuckles paling from your harsh grip, you allow yourself to vomit the petals that had been tickling at your throat.

Your eyes feel like they're burning and you hate the sight of blood and petals pooling in the water. But after seeing it for so long, you start to get used to your satirical life.

You think you finally catch a break, seated on the bathroom floor with staggering breaths and trying to steady your constricted chest. However, fate doesn’t seem to be done with her silly joke.

“(Name)?” You’d recognize that voice anywhere.

You refuse to turn around.

Kim Seungmin was not about to see you in such a pitiful state.

“What are you doing in the men’s bathroom?” He’s about to make some stupid joke, anything to annoy you when he spots the drops of blood beside you.

His instant thought is to call the school nurse.

“Are you okay? Is it… the time of month?”

Something in you cringes at his question, squeezing your eyes shut as you shake your head. He remains standing there, staring at you and wondering why you’re retching in front of a toilet if not for the reason of your monthly cycle.

You don’t even have to turn around to know he was just… looking at you, trying to decide on what he should do.

You wave him off, trying to get up from the floor as quickly as you could. There was no way in hell you’d stay there any longer after finding out you had accidentally entered the wrong restroom with Seungmin of all people. However, as you get up, a nauseating rush of pain floods your body, and you’re tumbling over.

Seungmin is quick to catch you before you can fall, gripping onto your arms and staring at you with wide eyes. He blinks in surprise, taking a few steps backwards with you as he settles you near the sink.

“I’ll go flush–”

“No, wait!”

“Oh.”

He sees the yellow petals before you can stop him. He doesn’t know what to say. He’d assumed you were sick, but Hanahaki never crossed his mind. But before he could say anything else, he hears you mutter a quick apology before you’re running out of the bathroom.

Seungmin is glued to his feet, staring down at the toilet before gazing over the spot where you had stood just a few seconds ago.

Kim Seungmin makes it a point to look for you again the next day.

Against your wordless wishes, Seungmin seems to find you easily. He makes a valiant effort to make an appearance at every possible place he’d usually chance you in – the cafeteria, the library, your club room. He doesn’t expect to find you by the school’s back gate leading directly towards a nearby park.

The few steps towards your direction takes a lot more than Seungmin anticipated. He’s starting to question why he was even looking for you in the first place. He double takes, part of him telling him to just flee. This was none of his business, and it wasn’t like you were a friend.

The two of you have been tiptoeing between the term enemy and acquaintance—if there was even anything in between. You’d both been a nuisance to each other and have done nothing more than purposely annoying each other (him more to you). He’d shut your locker closed after you had just opened it, you’d refuse to let him copy your homework answers, and there was nothing really more than those little, annoying interactions.

Still, even though you two weren’t exactly the best of friends, it wasn’t like he wanted you to die.

From the little he knew about the disease, being deadly was one of them. Surgical procedure to get it removed was costly and offered a low success rate. Really, the only option was to let your feelings be reciprocated or get over it.

Seungmin thinks you’re far from getting over it.

Continuing right, maybe he could just catch up to his friends who are by the field. But would he risk being a possible accomplice to your death? Absolutely the fuck not. The only place to go is forward, and after thrice the time it would usually take, he finally walks towards you.

The first thing he discerns is your pathetic attempt at wiping over your lips with the sleeves of your jacket. And then he averts his eyes to the scowl on your face.

“Look, Kim.” You spit his name out with venom laced in your tone. “I’m not really in the mood for your jokes so just leave me alone.” He wants to scoff at you, partially regretting his decision to show a little bit of human decency towards you.

“I know you have Hanahaki.”

You stare at him in silence for a minute, unsure if he was enjoying your misery and wanting to rub in your face that you were sick and possibly dying. He breaches your silence when he notices you weren’t making a response any time soon.

“I wanted to help.” This time you’re the one who scoffs. “You want to help me? Do you seriously expect me to believe that?”

Seungmin lets out a sigh of mild aggravation. “Who else knows?”

“Do you really think I’m going around parading the fact that I have Hanahaki?”

“Then let me help you.” There’s a tone of resignation in his voice as he crosses his arms, staring down at you as you look at him with such an incredulous expression on your face.

“What makes you think I’d let you help me?”

Your voice rings steadily in his ears, and while he wants to compare it to the annoying chime of his alarm, Seungmin is reminded of the reason why he went up to you in the first place. If he knew you were going to be this annoying about it, maybe he shouldn’t have offered to help in the first place.

“So, you’re just going to die then?” His tone is dry and blunt, and he doesn’t look you in your eyes when he speaks. Your defensiveness wavers at the brutal honesty of his words.

Seungmin is the slightest bit shocked at your falter, but he chooses not to say anything. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew the reality was settling deep and turning cogs in your brain right now. Your expression falls completely after a second of a heartbeat.

He doesn’t find any pleasure in seeing your face drop so quickly. While he was used to you looking upset or annoyed with him, he’d put your frowning face on the list of things he didn’t like. He thinks it’s because he wasn’t expecting you to react that way.

“Just let me help you.”

You think, is this really a good idea?

Kim Seungmin was far from being a friend, and you don’t understand his sudden determination to help you. Maybe it stemmed from the pathetic sight of you puking out yellow petals in the restroom a day ago, but you doubt that’s enough reason for his sudden want to help.

However, the reality of his words sinks in—so deep until it’s enough to drown you. You’ve resigned long ago that getting Felix to like you back would be near impossible so in exchange, you’ve tried getting over him.

The task proves difficult to accomplish.

And were you really going to allow yourself to just… go like that? It wasn’t like your sickness was getting any better. In fact, it was getting much, much worse. Cue the quiver of your knees as you retch out leaves and petals, serene smiling as you pretend everything’s okay and that you’re used to the fuckery of this disease.

After weighing down your options, it’s clear there’s an obvious answer. So, with disdain in your voice, you respond to the boy in front of you.

“Fine.”

Your response to your longtime rival’s preposition surprised even Seungmin himself. While he knew you needed the help, he was still slightly appalled by the fact that you had agreed to get help from him of all people. You could’ve easily rejected his offer, could’ve told someone else of your predicament and get their help.

Instead, you sigh in defeat and accept Seungmin’s help.

“Meet me here tomorrow after class.” With a blank expression on his face and the demand rolling off his tongue, he excuses himself.

Something tells you this isn’t one of your smartest decisions.

You meet Seungmin where he tells you the next day.

It’s a little hard to believe you’re taking instruction from the boy who had been nothing more than an irritation in your school social life. However, here you are, leaning against the gate and waiting for that same boy to meet you.

You’re starting to regret your decision before you can even milk any assistance out of him.

“Sorry, I’m late.” He really had a knack for being late – not just during homeroom period. He’s panting, hand outstretched to lean against a post with his cheeks flushed. “When are you never?”

Seungmin fights the urge to roll his eyes at your comment. “Last period held me up, but I’m here now.”

You hum, crossing your arms before peering at the boy. “Well, then. What do you suggest I do?” You cringe at the way you ask him. Earlier on your way to the back gate, you had told yourself to try and be more civil. He was offering to help you. It wasn’t like he needed to do something upon witnessing you the other day, but he still decided to help you.

“Don’t you think you should tell me who it is you’re so in love with first?”

Somehow, that never really clicked in your head. You had thought you could go through this whole arrangement without so much as uttering Lee Felix’s name. Only now do you think it’s stupid you’d even thought that in the first place.

“Oh.” Of course, Seungmin doesn’t miss the conflicted look etched on your face, and soon enough you’re looking around to see if anyone’s possibly listening in on your conversation. He sighs, tapping your wrist before motioning for you to follow him as he exits the gates. “I didn’t really think about that.”

He leads you to the park, and he allows you the silence to think on the short walk there. When he finds a bench, he sits down and pats the seat next to him to tell you to sit down. “You ready to tell me?”

You stab the air, refusing to beat around the bush this time around. Might as well get this over with. With a deep breath, and a rather constipated look on your face, you blurt it out.

“Lee Felix.”

You never thought you’d ever tell anyone about your feelings, but desperate times call for desperate measures. Seungmin blinks in surprise.

He takes a moment to process the information.

Lee Felix, one of Seungmin’s best friends, is the reason why you’re puking flowers.

“Okay. Okay, that’s good then.”

“How is any of this good?” There’s an incredulous expression etched on your face as you hear Seungmin utter the word ‘good’ in the midst of your situation. You hardly thought it was a word to even come to mind after telling him who it was.

“Don’t be stupid. Think about it. You like Felix. He’s one of my closest friends, I’m in such a good position to help you.” Something in the way he says this with a glint of hope tells you that there is a silver lining to this whole situation—even if it’s ever just a little line.

“I’m having a hard time believing any of this to be good. Wouldn’t your being close to him make my feelings all the more obvious?”

“But we want it to be obvious, though. We want him to take the interest as bait.”

You close your eyes for a second, trying to come to terms with the decision you had made to let Kim Seungmin (of all people) to help you with the stupid disease itching at your throat. Somehow, you had failed to consider how hard it would be to actually hold a conversation with the boy first and foremost.

By the end of your day, Seungmin concludes that a good first step is for him to plant the idea of you in Felix’s head—to which you contort by asking him how you could trust him to not sabotage you instead and say horrible things about you.

He looks at you with the blankest expression on his face as his response.

You give in.

It wasn’t a horrible first idea. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to remind Felix of your existence—even if you were just a mere fish in the sea for him.

When the sun starts to show hint of resting, Seungmin walks you home as his house isn’t that far from your own. Before he says goodbye, he tells you to meet him again the next day.

And so it began.

When Seungmin was with Felix, he’d discreetly mention your name, every now and then, mixed with a combination of some of Felix’s interests. Felix is taken aback, wondering why his friend is suddenly uttering the name of his sworn enemy.

Seungmin makes an effort to tell him you were friends now, that he just didn’t know you enough to conclude that you were actually kind of fun to hang out with and that Felix should probably try to know you too. His statement isn’t entirely a lie if you consider the latter part.

So, he continues his plan.

He mentions you just enough to make your presence and interests known to Lee Felix in a better light – not one that just paints you as the girl Seungmin loves to annoy. And he walks with you to the cafeteria sometimes so you can greet Felix when you drop Seungmin off their table.

You start to meet up more frequently, new ideas coming up every time you do, and something brewing after each conversation.

Of course, this did not come without suspicion from your friends. Immediately, Karina and Yeji come running to sit by each of your side after you yet again walk in the cafeteria with Kim Seungmin. “Don’t you hate him or something?” Yeji asked, and Karina added, “Yeah. He’s like the bane of your existence. What chapter did we miss?”

Seungmin also faces some backlash from Jisung, as well as Hyunjin and Jeongin. “I thought she wasn’t your type” and “Didn’t she annoy you?” being the popular phrase they’d use to criticize his blooming friendship with you – if he could even call it that.

Still, both of you agreed to reply to each prying question about each other with "It’s top secret; none of your business" with the additional grimace when they’d imply something romantic between the pair of you.

Felix is starting to take notice of you which stretches a victorious grin on Seungmin’s face. It had been a good few days since he had initiated his plan, and it was nice to see some progress. Especially when Felix asks about you during recess one afternoon.

“Is blue (name)’s favorite color?” Seungmin perks up at Felix’s sudden question, taking the sandwich out of his mouth before following Felix’s line of sight.

“What makes you ask that?” There’s a hint of a smirk on his face as he leans to nudge Felix teasingly.

“Nothing! She just wears a lot of blue.” Felix’s mumbling now, and it’s a clear sign that he’s taken interest in you. He better have.

The forceful manner in which Seungmin has to compliment you subtly around Felix is taking a toll on him. He didn’t think he could ever say so many nice things about you in the span of four days, but here he was.

Seungmin thinks it's worth it. Felix might’ve tried to seem nonchalant, but Seungmin knows him better than that. He can’t wait to tell you the good news as he walks you home again.

This is the first time you’re meeting with Kim Seungmin on a weekend.

Before this, there had never been any reason to see him outside of school. Now, you’re seated by a table in the park where couples usually frequent to have picnics together.

He’s late again, but you’re appreciative of the time you have to yourself before you have to even think about the next steps to your demise.

You don’t really have long when Seungmin’s lanky legs show up in front of you again, panting like he did when he was late to Mr. Choi’s class a few days ago. You offer a small wave to acknowledge his presence and he merely nods his head, unscrewing the cap of the water bottle he has in hand before taking a huge gulp.

Seungmin’s hands collided with the table, rattling the transparent bottle that held his water, with some of the drink spilling to the wooden surface. “Okay. Everyone knows the first step to someone’s heart is to be friends with their friends.”

Wow. Straight to the point. Not even an exchange of pleasantries.

“Does being enemies with one of them count?” You lean away from the table a little, careful as to not let any of the spilt water drip on you.

“Haha. Very funny.”

“Thanks.” You roll your eyes, crossing your arms as you wait for him to continue the brilliant plan he had conjured on the way to you today.

“Whatever. Anyways, I guess you can start with Hyunjin and Jisung. I’ll tell them to come hang out with us this afternoon.”

“This afternoon already?”

It’s clear you’re in disbelief from the way your voice raises in volume and your eyes widen at the sudden proposition to hang out with his friends in a few hours. You were never the best at socializing in general, so you could only imagine the horrors that flashed in your mind at even just the thought of making new friends and hanging out with them for hours all in the same afternoon.

“Well, yeah. We’re quite literally racing against time in case you forgot.”

And he did just that.

It seems that his friends have nothing to do when you spot two tall boys animatedly talking to each other while navigating through the park. The moment they see Seungmin, they’re sending huge waves and pushing each other to get to you first.

“Hyunjin hyung, Jisung hyung. This is (name).”

The pushing doesn’t stop – it’s just that now, it’s directed at Seungmin. He breaks free from the spot in between them in timid annoyance, choosing to stand next to you instead.

Your confidence falters, and you find yourself unconsciously crawling back in your shell, smiling at them politely before staring at the ground. Seungmin’s never seen this side of you, and he doesn’t understand why it’s making him flustered.

The brunette boy with the rosy cheeks and the brightest smile, Jisung, shakes your hand, telling you that it was nice to meet you before Hyunjin follows. An unfamiliar smile remains on your lips, shaking their hands back, albeit a little wobbly.

“Seungmin has told us a lot about you.”

You don’t really know how to respond to that, so you just laugh nervously.

“All the bad, most horrible things.” Seungmin has a comforting hand resting on the small of your back, rubbing gently. “Nothing to worry about.”

Your first genuine laugh leaves your lips. It’s such a Seungmin thing to say, and you find yourself being pulled back on Earth by the simplest of statements. Seungmin smiles victoriously to himself at being able to help ease your nerves a little.

With introductions out of the way, you’re relieved to admit that falling into casual conversation with Hyunjin and Jisung actually came easy. And as time passes, you find it more and more comfortable to start inputting your own thoughts into the conversation.

You had decided to eat out together, and the boys kindly offered to pay for you.

That’s how you find yourself seated beside Seungmin, and across from Hyunjin and Jisung who were, once again, talking about anything and everything – but you didn’t mind. It was nice to have someone lead the conversation.

“Okay, so I have a poop story.” Jisung starts.

“Oh god.” Seungmin’s quick to lean back in his seat in protest, arm brushing against yours in the process.

“It’s not that bad, it’s not that bad!”

“Is this about last night?” Hyunjin asks suspiciously, and with the mention of the night’s events, Jisung just starts laughing to himself, slapping his knees before nodding his head in response.

“So, I really had to go… poop! At a gas station. But, there was a guy in the stall next to mine, so I was feeling shy. So I pretend I was just fixing my pants or whatever – so I was unbuttoning my pants and buttoning them and unbuttoning… and washing my hands. And then I left.”

Although it isn’t the funniest story, something about the way Jisung narrates has you, Hyunjin, and Seungmin laughing in your seats. You don’t understand why seeing Seungmin laugh and talk to his friends genuinely makes you hold him in a slightly better light. At least for the day.

You hate to admit you don’t actually know anything about Seungmin, except that he was an absolute menace. But, while he was still that same Seungmin, you could see there was much more to him, especially seeing the way he interacted with his friends – and the way he would ask for your input at certain moments in the conversation in genuine attempts to involve you in the group.

You never knew he was that observant, and considerate of your feelings.

Considerate.

It’s a word you never thought you’d ever put in the same sentence as Seungmin, but here you were, thinking he was being the most considerate from the way he glanced in your direction occasionally and observed your body language before joining you in the conversation if you looked a little more comfortable to pitch in.

In no time, the two boys warmed up to you. The sky is a mix of colors by the time you finish your little hangout, spreading like a pastel oil slick over the infinite sky. Seungmin’s walking you home, like he always did since the start of your plan.

“See? It wasn’t all that bad.” The words he tells you mirrors the same ones he texts his friends at the end of the day.

seungmo (6:21pm): i told u she can be a good person !!! i’m way over our enemies arc. we’re friends now

hyunjinnie (6:23pm): i guess she isn’t that bad afterall

hanji (6:24pm): LMAO she’s actually kinda cute n shy i think she’d get along w felix a lot I esp like the part when she would argue w u like 😭

hyunjinnie (6:25pm): they tell the same jokes and r so so good at roasting seungmin <3 my favorite genre of jokes. aaaah it’s like felix was there with us in spirit

Seungmin feels proud of the success of his own plan and reflects on his friends’ words. You really… weren’t all that bad to spend time with.

The plan stretches for a few more days.

Because Felix was rather social, you made it a point to become mere acquaintances with nearly everybody (despite your earlier protests), which made your friends question your actions yet again. “When did you become so friendly?”, asked Karina.

“I’m trying not to die. Let me be.”

They take it as a joke.

"Step two!"

“Already, Kim?”

It had just been three days since you had executed his first step of getting along with Felix’s friends, and now he was yet again bugging you over the next step of his foolproof plan.

“You have to get into his interests.” Seungmin ponders for a moment, before he lifts a finger in the air. “Dancing.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Absolutely yes! Lucky for you, I’m a really good dancer.”

You sigh. “Are you just trying to get me to embarrass myself?”

“I’m not! But now that you mention it…” He laughs, bouncing back a little when you go to punch his arm. “Come on, show me some moves. Just so I know what I’m working with.”

You flail your arms with the most uninterested look on your face, staring directly at the boy to tell him you were, in fact, not having it.

“Now that’s just sad. Who’s gonna fall in love with you if you dance like that?”

Later that day, Seungmin takes you to the dance team’s club room. When you walk in, there are already some students there – no doubt practicing for a project or an upcoming practical exam. He walks you to a less crowded area located in the corner of a room where it’s a little more isolated.

“This is where I usually practice.” He drops his bag on a chair, motioning for you to stand with him in front of the big mirror. Still dejected, you walk grumpily towards where he’s waiting for you.

Silently, he rests his hands on your shoulders and pulls back a little to fix your form before dropping his arms.

“I still don’t get how this is supposed to help me.” You try to keep your posture fixed after Seungmin had taken it upon himself to point it out, staring at the both of you through the mirror with a slight tilt in your head.

“When Felix finds out you dance too, he’ll be head over heels for you.”

You glare at the boy. “That’s subjective.”

“I’ll just teach you the basics today. Oh, and I hope you’re free after classes cause I’ll be dragging you here whenever Felix practices as well.”

With wide eyes, you finally turn to face him properly, shaking your head repeatedly as you inch closer and closer to the boy. “I am not letting him see me dance!”

“That’s why we’re here today, so you don’t embarrass yourself completely.”

You grumble, slouching your figure as you cross your arms before straightening your back again. You tell him to show you what he’s teaching you first, dropping to sit on the ground as you motion for him to start dancing. If he was going to let you learn to move with your two left feet, he might as well show you first.

You’re embarrassed to say your jaw drops the moment Seungmin starts dancing, eyes being unable to move elsewhere but on him. You knew he could dance, but you didn’t know the extent to his talents. He was effortless, with his hands and his feet, and the way he moves synchronously to the rhythm of the music he’s playing on his phone.

His movements are so clean, and he has a certain fluidity to his movements. It hurts your pride to see how great he is without even trying. He’s simply showing you what he’s going to teach you with minimal effort, and yet he’s still able to make it look picture perfect.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” There’s a smirk on his face you want to wipe off so bad. Smiling wickedly, you chuck a water bottle in his general direction which he catches with ease.

“Haha, very creative. Definitely haven’t heard of that one before.”

He tosses the water bottle back at you so you can put it safely on the ground before motioning for you to get up yet again. “If you think I can do all that, you’re extremely wrong.”

There’s amusement that’s clear as day on Seungmin’s face, but he chooses to just roll his eyes in response, reassuring you he’ll simplify the steps to your liking. His statement is half true as he maneuvers your arms and legs through a few sets of moves.

You never knew Seungmin was as patient as he was, not at all visibly upset when you don’t get it right away, or you need a little time to really understand a small step. Instead, he watches attentively and makes sure you don’t hurt yourself in the process.

“Wait, you’re doing that wrong. Don’t… don’t twist your arm like that, you’ll end up hurting yourself.”

You don’t even notice he’s behind you, body inches away from being pressed against yours as he grabs hold of you to set your hand back down to your side. Then, he lifts it back up as if a puppet, directing you in a move that feels much more comfortable now than the way you were doing it earlier.

“Oh, uh… thanks.” He simply nods his head, moving back from behind you and telling you to try it again as he sits in front of you. When you do the first few steps seamlessly, a smile forms on Seungmin’s face as he claps his hands.

“You aren’t so bad afterall. Just a little.” Your lips form a pout, walking forward to sit beside where he’s at on the floor, wiping at your sweat as you gratefully accept the water bottle he offers in your direction.

“Let’s take a break.”

He laughs again when you roll your head back and make a noise of relief, moving to comfortably lie down on the smooth wooden floor of the dance room.

“My body aches everywhere.”

“You’ll get used to it.” An extra towel is thrown on your face and you take it off to see Seungmin not even looking at you anymore. You just mumble a quick ‘thank you’ before using it to wipe at the sweat on your face and neck.

A silence falls in between the two of you—one that’s filled with your jagged and heavy breathing. It’s the first comfortable silence you experience with the boy. You used to think it was impossible. He always had something to say, and you never backed down from retorting. When you weren’t arguing, there was always some sort of tension lingering in the air from your dislike towards one another.

It feels different at the moment. You find that you don’t quite mind this.

“What if you drown it by drinking too much water?”

That’s definitely a way to get you out of your head.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m pretty sure plants aren’t supposed to have too much water. Besides, how can it even get sunlight when it’s inside you?”

Even from a distance, Seungmin could tell you were trying to bite back a grin, shaking your head at his sudden question. “Yeah, I don’t think that’s how Hanahaki works.”

“How are you so sure?” You’re holding back a laugh now at his absurd suggestions, especially when he’s holding onto an unopened water bottle to accompany his advice.

“Plants die from too much water, do they not?”

“Kim, I am not drinking a shit ton of water to drown the plant. If anything, that’s just gonna give me multiple visits to the bathroom.”

“Suit yourself.” Seungmin doesn’t dwell much on how you flat out made fun of his suggestion, instead, he clings onto how strange his family name sounds coming from your mouth. He thinks you’ve known each other long enough to solicit his first name from you, but it seems you refuse to hand it to him.

He doesn’t understand why.

‘Seungmin’ would be so much more comfortable to say, instead of a flat one-syllable last name that feels clumsy to fit in a sentence. With the time he’s spending with you, he sometimes forgets he’s just a last name to you.

He can’t help but wonder if he’ll always just be a last name to you.

When he notices he’s been quiet for too long, he sits up a little straighter and finally tunes back into the conversation. “Well, I’m out of other ideas. Unless… pesticide?”

“You are so stupid.”

The tone in your voice is significantly changed from one of annoyance to a more endearing, joking manner. You don’t exactly know when this shift started, but you like the slip of normal conversations with the boy. It was way easier than arguing.

“I was kidding! Come on. Let’s run through the choreography again.”

You whine out a couple complaints, kicking your feet in the air like a child before getting back up from where you were lying down. He simply laughs, dragging you back in the middle of the room. It’s funny to Seungmin, how the more you peeled back the walls you had built around you, the more he sees himself getting along with you.

Seeing a friend in you didn’t seem as far-fetched as it used to be.

It was like you were slowly proving his initial impressions of you wrong. That, hidden behind that harsh exterior was someone who had the capability to joke around without being so uptight about it. Someone who was more genuine with a heart that felt… comfortable.

In moments like these, when you’re laughing and dancing together, he sometimes forgets the circumstances you’re under. It doesn’t feel like he’s hanging out with you just to help you with Hanahaki anymore.

It feels like hanging out with a friend now.

"So, what’s step three?" You ask Seungmin, mid-body roll, still working on your dancing. "Nothing too major, please. I’m busy with dance lessons."

Seungmin’s mouth falls in disbelief, rolling his head back in laughter. He knows you’re joking around, mocking him even, but he doesn’t feel the need to defend himself like he usually did when you argue with him.

"Alright, damn, I’m sorry for disturbing you.” His hands are lifted in the air, as if in trouble. You slap them back down.

“So, is it something major or not?”

“If you’re a good chef, it should be simple," is his answer. "Cook his favorite meal. You know, food is the key to a man’s heart and all that. Plus, that boy loves to bake."

That afternoon, Seungmin is invited to your home for the first time. He’s respectful, greeting your older sibling who simply eyes you as a signal to tell them all about the boy you had invited over later. You’ve never mentioned him before.

You shoo them away before guiding yourself and the boy towards your kitchen.

Seungmin takes the time to admire your small, comfortable home. There are beautiful pieces of furniture decorating your living room, and a few paintings hung on the walls. A tall plant stands by the corner of the room. His eyes are ripped away when you make it to the kitchen.

With the ingredients of tteokbokki planted on your counter (thank God Seungmin knows a little bit about Felix’s specific preferences), you stare at him as if waiting for him to do something. “What are you looking at me for?”

“Don’t just stand there and watch me cook. Go sit in the living room or something!”

“Geez, I’m sorry. Didn’t know looking at you was a punishable sin.”

“I just get pressured easily.” You push him away, leading him towards your living room and sitting him down. And then it’s radio silence from you for a good fifteen minutes – that is until wafts of smoke flows its way towards where Seungmin’s seated.

Having a hard time controlling his laughter, he shakes his head and marches up next to you. “Remind me again what I told you to do.”

“Cook.”

“And what did you end up doing? He asks, cocking an eyebrow at the smell of smoke in the air.

“I cooked!”

Seungmin rolls his eyes, crossing his arms while shaking his head lightly at your desperate attempt at cooking. “Right, of course you did.”

“I almost burnt my whole house down, but I did it, see?” You raise the platter to his face. Sure enough, Felix’s favorite meal is there, cooked decently enough to be considered edible. Seungmin forces you to bring it in a container to school the next day despite your protests.

It comes as a surprise to most of your classmates when they spot you talking to Seungmin so early in the morning, and so decently. When they saw you marching up to his direction with a container in hand, they were already assuming an argument would ensue. However, they’re hit with the sight of you talking to him like a normal human being.

“What am I supposed to do now?”

“Just tell Felix how you feel while you offer the food you cooked.”

“I am not about to confess to Felix while giving him something that’s barely edible.” You deadpan, shoving the container around.

“Just do it! He’ll appreciate your efforts.”

“Oh, wow. What do you expect me to do?” You laugh, and Seungmin rolls his eyes before taking the box from you. Jokingly holding out the container in front of you, Seungmin says, “It’s so simple, just do this. Hey, I’ve liked you for a long time now, and here, I cooked your favorite food for you. Hope you like them!”

Right on time, Wonyoung and Yujin walk past you, catching your conversation and immediately halting in their tracks.

In chorus, the pair of hostile girls yell, “You like her?”

Upon realizing the connotation of their question, Seungmin couldn’t help but walk backwards in disgust. “As if! She’d be lucky to be with me.”

“Excuse me? You’d be the lucky one!”

You simply stared at him, and how much more bearable he’s gotten since you started to talk more. Suddenly, it occurred to you that maybe you’d started to develop feelings for Seungmin… but then the thought of you together comes to mind, and when you felt an indefinable feeling in your chest, you concluded that was simply not the case. Right?

“I can’t believe you said I’d be lucky to be with you. Can you imagine?” You exclaimed incredulously, your arms wailing around to prove a point. “You’ve been blessed because we made a deal. If we didn’t, I would’ve kicked your ass a long time ago.” Like the child you are, you stick your tongue out, crossing your arms.

Seungmin’s bone marrow feels cold at the thought of dating you. He doesn’t want a label for this feeling, and forces it down his throat, tuning into whatever you’re saying instead as you throw the container by the nearest trash can.

The next time Seungmin sees you isn’t in the best circumstances.

When he doesn’t find you by the back exit of the school where he usually met up with you to walk you home, an unsettling feeling creeps at the back of his throat. It’s enough to have him looking for you around the campus.

It wasn’t easy to find you, but the moment he does, he’s quick to kneel down next to your slouched figure, slipping his bag off and gathering your hair up in his arms so it doesn’t get in the way of your face as you puked up dried flowers and blood.

Seungmin’s reminded again of your circumstances.

Rubbing a hand down your back, he helps you spit out the remains of flowers itching at your throat. “Hey, it’s okay. Just puke it out.”

There are tears welling in your eyes from puking too much, hands planted on the ground as he shields your body from anyone passing by the fields. He thanks the heavens that your classes had ended earlier than others so there weren't many students littering the fields.

When you fall back to sit on the ground, you’re nothing but a figure of ragged breathing.

“Do you have a hair tie?” You shake your head, eyes fixed on the ground as embarrassment boils in your stomach. “Just go home, Kim. I’m fine.”

He dismisses you, hand rummaging through his bag so he can hand you a handkerchief to wipe at your mouth. “You must be thirsty.” He’s mumbling to himself, looking around for the nearest vending machine.

“I said it’s fine.” You don’t know why you’re angry, but you are. The tone in your voice sends the worst kind of shivers in Seungmin’s skin, especially when you’re stubbornly trying to get up and get away from him.

Maybe you’re angry because despite your attempts, you were still struck by this god-awful disease. Maybe you’re angry because you’re being punished for liking someone. Maybe you’re angry because Seungmin had to catch you while you were puking.

The overwhelming feeling of anger and pain feels so heavy, weighing down your shoulders, and you realize belatedly that the tears have started dripping down your cheeks until one of Seungmin’s thumbs goes to brush over them.

“I don’t want you to pity me.” The initial harshness in your voice has morphed into something that sounds more pained… a more broken anger. It makes him feel uneasy. Seungmin finds he prefers the unabashed anger.

He still has an arm around you so you don’t fall on the ground completely from the exhaustion of retching your throat out, still smoothing down your hair. “Hey, this is just a little crack in your step, okay?”

Seungmin sighs when you refuse to look at him, but it doesn’t stop him from wiping at your tears. He doesn’t need to be asked to comfort you, he just does. And in all honesty, he isn’t even sure why he went looking for you when you didn’t meet up with him. It wasn’t like he needed to walk you home.

Still, he finds himself crouched down next to you at this moment, and he doesn’t regret his decision one bit. He prefers being there for you over the comfort of his home.

“Are you done being angry?” You laugh stupidly, hitting the hand that’s ghosting over your cheek. You feel ashamed for throwing up in front of him, but even more for taking your anger out on the boy who had been helping you for the past few weeks.

“I’m sorry. I was being stupid.” You rub at your bloodshot eyes, looking up at Seungmin who simply shakes his head. “It’s alright. Are you thirsty?”

“It’s okay, I’ll probably just buy a bottle of water in the cafeteria. You can go home ahead.”

Seungmin goes over your offer. If he goes home now, he’d be playing video games and lounging in his house without a care in the world. And he has homework. He stands up, guiding you to your feet as well.

Then, he moves a hand on the small of your back and starts walking the opposite direction of the school’s exit, shoulders touching as he walks next to you.

“I’ll pay for your water.”

The next day, you pretend as if you hadn’t choked your lungs out the day before. You simply ask Seungmin what the next step in his plan was.

He doesn’t ask you any more questions.

“There’s this plushie Felix really wants from the arcade. We went there a few days ago, and he was going crazy, losing all his pennies for it.”

You nod your head, looking up at the boy. “So… arcade?”

On your way there, you find yourselves talking about anything and everything that comes to mind. There’s conversations about dancing… your horrible cooking… your friends… homeroom class and that cube.

“I don’t get how he wants us to open it. It’s solid.” He talks animatedly, hands flailing around at the thought of the stupid cube Mr. Choi keeps bringing up every homeroom class.

Are you supposed to smash it to the ground until it opens? Bring a hammer to school to get the job done right away? Why did he explicitly not allow you to break the cube if he wanted it open? None of it makes sense in Seungmin’s head.

“Maybe he wants us to think outside the box.”

He simply stares at you. “Think outside the box, my ass. I really don’t think there’s any other way. It has to be a trick question.”

“Maybe there’s a hidden button? I don’t know… but there has to be a way to look into it without breaking it, right? Why else would Mr. Choi bring it up?”

Seungmin finds himself intrigued with your train of thought. “So, you really think there’s a way to open it without smashing it? That… this whole thing isn’t some sort of trick question from Mr. Choi?”

You hum, nodding your head. “There must’ve been a lot of hard work into building that cube. I’m sure there’s a way to peek inside without shattering it completely.”

The conversation drifts after that, moving elsewhere—but Seungmin finds himself still thinking about your response. He supposes he still has the next homeroom class to figure it out.

When you get to the arcade, it takes you forever to win the chick plushie in the claw machine. You’re starting to wonder why you let Seungmin talk you into this – when you could’ve spent much less just buying the plushie instead of trying to win it.

You’re well aware of the scam that is a claw machine. They always bounce off the moment you grab a stuffed toy inside so it falls back down before it has the chance to make its way to you. And yet, you don’t want to leave anytime yet. Especially not when Seungmin’s on the machine next to yours, making it a competition on who gets a plushie first.

It’s more fun like this, when you’re joking around and teasing each other on being losers despite none of you winning a single plushie. Who knew you were capable of joking around with Kim Seungmin in a lighthearted manner?

You find the time spent with Seungmin at the arcade more enjoyable than anything else. It doesn’t matter that it’s been approximately 60 minutes and you have long abandoned the claw machine to play the other games in the area.

“Wanna race me?”

“You’re paying.”

Seungmin grumbles, but still hands you a few tokens to insert in the machine. And then you’re playing again. Of course, he wins and feels the need to rub it in your face in which you reply with a very mature stick out of your tongue.

He’s very persistent in winning the games, but you don’t really mind when he’s paying for your machines and making sure you’re having a fun time as well. He reasons it’s because you need to maximize the time you have there instead of dwelling on the disappointment of not being able to get the plushie you came here for – the very reason you went here in the first place.

He’s been pretty successful so far.

By the end, you win much more than a single fox plushie. You have your own Pochacco stuffed toy that he had won and given to you, saying something about how he was too old to have a plushie and that you better keep it instead, and some cotton candy as a prize from the tickets you had acquired at the numerous games you played.

Seungmin has a proud grin on his face as you hug onto the stuffed toy, munching on your cotton candy before looking at the boy curiously. “Wait… should I just give this to him instead?” You nudge the plushie in your arms, in which Seungmin is quick to say a firm no.

“He doesn’t like Pochacco anyway.”

You gasp. “How could he not like Pochacco? Don’t worry, I’ll keep you safe buddy.”

He laughs at the way you speak to the stuffed toy, guiding you outside the arcade and towards the path to your house. The rest of the time is spent in silence. Much to Seungmin’s disappointment, your house is pretty near the arcade so it doesn’t take long before you’re parting ways again.

“Thanks for walking me home again, Kim.”

He brushes off your remark, smiling at you and sending you a thumbs up. He stands there for a moment, waiting for you to get in safely before he’s off to start walking towards his own home.

On the way home, he wonders in horror – since when did he start feeling disappointment when dropping you off?

It’s been a few weeks since Seungmin has started to help you. You’ve grown a little closer to Felix, holding a few conversations here and there in school, and you have to admit – it’s pretty nice.

Felix seems like such a great friend.

Friend.

You stare at nothing in particular as you ponder over your newfound realization. Since when did you start referring to your longtime crush as “friend”? Since when did you stop thinking too much about him at all?

You’re unsure if you’re feeling better because you’re moving on or if it’s because you’re growing closer to Lee Felix. You don’t think about it too much – you’re just happy to be feeling better at all.

Today, there’s no plan to commence. You’re simply walking home with Seungmin.

You don’t know when it’s become part of your routine. For quite a while, you’d only walk together to discuss your plan on getting Felix to like you back, but the habit of waiting for you after class has stuck around and you find yourselves walking home together despite having nothing to talk about.

“So…”

“So…?” You look at him with a questioning expression, gripping onto the straps of your backpack.

“Mr. Choi’s cube.”

You simply laugh, shaking your head before looking at the round ahead of you again. “You’re seriously not over that?”

“I don’t even know why I’m so curious about it myself.” Seungmin shudders, and amusement falls on your face at his own declaration.

Still, you allow him to talk about it. You hate to admit but the cube has also left you quite perplexed. Seungmin’s been adamant about the fact that it really is just some sort of trick question, but your persistence on a way to do it has him grasping on straws.

He doesn’t know when he started valuing your opinion so much, and why honey drips in everything you say, and why colors seem to brighten when you smile. Like right now, as you’re looking at him with wide eyes and a small smile playing at your lips as you tease him on his obsession for Mr. Choi’s cube.

And then, without warning, rain pours.

“Oh shit!” A hand meets yours almost immediately as he’s running to find some shelter. He doesn’t even think twice about it – he doesn’t ponder much on that either.

“Wait… I have an umbrella.”

“Is it enough for the both of us?”

He pulls out the umbrella from his bag, opening it up and holding it above both of your heads. And then, you’re back out in the rain, shoulders touching so you both fit under his small umbrella. The closed proximity forces you to hear both of your drumming hearts and feel the warmth from his arm as it brushes against yours every moment you walk.

When you arrive home, a second and a half passes before he’s able to recollect himself. Something in the way you shyly say goodbye at your front porch with a small “thank you” has him looking at you like something’s changed.

Something in the way you smile at him, a smile he doesn’t recognize, a smile that’s never been aimed at him before has him looking at you stupid. And you make it so much worse when you wrinkle your nose at his staring.

“Is there something on my face?”

He’s wordless, doesn’t know what to say — not with your eyes crinkling like that and your cheeks flushed from the cold of the rain, and your hair a little messy from initially getting wet from the rain, and your stupid smile.

How did you manage to get a grip on him without his consent? How dare you take advantage of his sensibility to steal into his affections just like that? He never used to care, comfortable with his place outside of your walls. He’d gone as far as playfully drawing graffiti on them, keeping a comfortable distance. Now, he finds himself wanting to break them.

“Seungmin?”

His tongue feels like it’s tying itself over and over again, and he doesn’t understand why his heart is beating extremely fast or why he feels so hot and wordless, or why he keeps staring at your lips? No one’s ever taught him about this before.

Still, being silent for too long, Seungmin fights with himself and finally opens his mouth.

“You look stupid.”

And then he’s off to run home.

His grandmother greets him when he gets home, and she chuckles to herself at seeing the wet patch on her grandson’s shoulder. “I see you cared for someone today.”

“What do you mean, grandma?” Seungmin looks at her confused, and she laughs quietly.

“I’m guessing you don’t remember. When you were younger, you wore that wet patch on your shoulder with pride. You told us it was the mark of a professional umbrella sharer, and that now, we didn’t have to get sick.”

She smiles to herself, patting Seungmin’s shoulder and giving him a sweet kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you at dinner. Go get changed so you don’t get sick.”

Seungmin nods his head, mouth agape at the story his grandmother just shared. He doesn’t even remember angling the umbrella in a way that you wouldn’t get wet in the rain. It just… came to him naturally, instinctually.

Her words repeat in his head.

He cared for someone today.

Apparently, Seungmin’s grandma was the perfect catalyst for him to realize his own feelings.

He doesn’t realize at first — brushing off the butterflies, the squeeze in his heart, the staring. He doesn’t even realize it when he looks forward to walking you home on most days.

No, his grandmother had realized before him, and like a domino, he fell over at her realization.

What was any of this supposed to mean? Sure, Seungmin knows what having a crush feels like. He’s had crushes before, but what he feels for you is different. Because in the past, Seungmin has never felt the need to pull up Google and search:

what is the feeling more than a crush but less than love

is it normal to like someone who ure trying to help get with ur friend who is her crush becuz she has hanahaki disease

hanahaki disease quizlet

how to know if u have a crush

Seungmin has never known having a crush on someone would be this complicated and this… crazy. But he has also never known the excitement of talking to you and wishing you goodnight when he drops you off at your house.

Disliking you was much easier than whatever the hell he’s feeling right now. He used to last days without looking at you, and now he’s looking for you in every room he walks in. Teasing you was something out of mere fun to get in your skin, now he does it to solicit a smile from you.

Maybe he doesn’t need google after all. The answer was simple, and it was right there.

He likes you.

He might be falling in love with you.

Hyunjin and Jisung notice the shift in his behavior and in your dynamic in general. They choose not to meddle, even though Jisung really really wants to. Especially when they catch Seungmin staring at you from across the room with the most lovesick smile plastered on his face.

But what was he supposed to do with these feelings? He’s still helping you get with Lee Felix.

The thought leaves a feeling similar to frustration at the back of his throat. How could he have allowed this in the first place? Sometimes he wishes he never offered to help you, but could he really? Now that he knows how it feels to truly be with you?

You’d always had this wall around you, but you’ve allowed him to peel the bricks back one by one with every interaction with him. And fuck, it feels so good to be able to peek at who you really are. It’s a drug to be able to know you like this, especially when he’d received nothing but glares from you in the past. He’s drunker on you than he’d expected, and he’s amused that now he’s trying to hide the fact that he’s enamored by you instead of simply expressing his interest in annoying you.

He wonders what’s changed, and when did the shift in your dynamic widen so much? He doesn’t know when he started to associate the word “fond” to you. Was it when your smile started to look genuine? Was it when you felt free to joke around him now? Was it when you held happily onto the stuffed toy he had won you?

He remembers every single moment spent with you, and he feels scared.

So he does what he should’ve let you do weeks ago, a step he’s delayed for too long now. Kim Seungmin would rather have you confess so he can stop thinking about you in this light anymore. He doesn’t like this. He’s starting to feel very afraid.

If he knows you even more than he does now, there would be no point of return. He wouldn’t be able to go back even if he tried.

“Anyway, right, the final step. Do it. It’s not that hard.” Seungmin insists, out of the blue, trying to get things over with. “We’ve already drawn too much attention to us, I’m unlucky enough to be seen with you every day, and now people think we’re together. That’s much worse!”

“Hey, stop hurting my feelings!” You knew it was a joke, like he always does around you, but it was still fun to fight with your former enemy. “Also, I’m not doing it. Are you insane?”

“We’ve trained for this! Just say you like him, if you really can’t then just ask him out or something.”

“I can’t do it!”

“What can’t you do?” The two of you jump at the new voice that joins the conversation – one you know too well.

“She can’t confe-“

“I can’t deal with his bullshit anymore!” You’re quick to cut Seungmin off before he can out you. Felix seems a bit taken back by this.

“Step one, dumbass!”

“I mean...” You take a deep breath. “Would you like to grab dinner at… that diner near here?... with us?”

Seungmin facepalms.

“Yeah, sure!” There he goes again, with that stupid pretty smile.

“Actually, I can’t come along. I’ve suddenly been hit with some sort of disease,” Seungmin dramatically informs you two, already walking away paired with very dramatic and very obviously fake coughing.

“Well, we could bring along your other friends instead!” You suggest nervously, throwing Seungmin death glares that make his smile dim for a quick second.

“I’ll tell our friends for you.” Seungmin chimes in before running out to harass your shared friends and tell them not to come. Almost immediately, you and Felix receive texts from his friends telling them they can’t come.

“I guess it’s just you and me.” Felix shrugs, offering you a grin.

Keeping up the cool facade, or at least trying to, you smile back, giving a thumbs up to Seungmin for embarrassing himself in front of all of your friends for you to get some time alone with Felix. As you walk away with the boy, sharing small chatter, it’s hard to miss the way Felix smiles at you, the way his eyes crinkle when you speak.

Maybe Felix really has gained genuine interest in you over the shared dance practices in Seungmin’s club room, over the small mentions of your name, over the positive feedback from your shared friends.

Seungmin thought this moment would feel victorious. He wouldn’t have to hangout with you anymore, and you wouldn’t have to die after the responsibility suddenly fell on his lap upon walking in on you in the men’s bathroom that one fateful day.

Seungmin doesn’t expect the bitter taste of regret that sits in his mouth instead – he was the one who’s been there all this time through everything.

And yet, Lee Felix gets the privilege to be with you. He gets the privilege to be called his first name.

“Wait a second.” You mumble to Felix, running quickly to where Seungmin is standing with his back turned to the pair of you. He feels your arms around him first, and before he can realize that you’re actually hugging him, you’ve already pulled away.

“Thanks Seungmin.” You smile, bowing slightly before running back to Felix who’s waiting for you.

He stands there, stunned. Seungmin. It’s funny how the casual mention of his first name has him crumbling all over again.

Seungmin wishes you had just called him Kim, like you always did. Maybe he wouldn’t feel so addicted with the way his name rolls out of your mouth so prettily. Something he might never hear from you ever again in a long time. There wasn’t a need for you to see each other again.

Kim Seungmin walks home alone for the first time in a long time.

No one stands in the back gate to greet him anymore.

He hates to admit how lonely it feels. He doesn’t realize how impactful the sound of your laughter was, or the sound of matching footsteps beside him. On the way home, he focuses on the music playing in his earbuds, focuses on the pavement, on anything but the thought of what you and Felix could be doing right now.

Kim Seungmin finds himself in contemplation over a matter that’s never been a concern in his life before—love. It’s a foreign concept to him. In truth, he doesn’t think he’s ever been in love before. Sure, he’s had a fair share of crushes, but they’ve never held him captive like this before. No, this is different. You’re different.

He’s never been eager for it either, not until lately. He is usually dull-eyed, disinterested, and does not have time for romance unless he wants it. He lets life pass as it does, without much contradictions. It’s much easier to live life this way, it’s much easier not to meddle in people’s business, and it’s much easier to leave the unknown unknown.

You are the first introduction of what wanting feels like to the boy. Because, as much as the boy enjoyed helping you out, there are times when he just wanted to hold you, or hold your hand while he was walking you home, or brush away that stupid stray strand of hair that always falls from your ponytail. Except he can’t. He knows he can’t. Because he’ll only receive the kind of stare that’s asking him why he’s acting so nice to you all of a sudden.

For the first time in a while, Seungmin is left with the bare truth of the way that he feels; something he hadn’t asked for, but needed to find out.

When he arrives home, he doesn’t text you – he doesn’t think it’s what you’d want, he doesn’t think it’s necessary anymore.

He’s also afraid that if he spends more time with you and your fond eyes and soft smiles, he’ll ruin everything even further. So, he does what he thinks is best for the both of you—revert back to mere glances and a time before he felt the need to enter your life so intimately like the way he did.

He will deprive himself of you, and wish you the best despite the bitterness that crosses his mind every now and then, that he was there first, that he’s also deserving of the love he wants.

Groaning, Seungmin rubs his eyes with the palm of his hands, and spends the next few hours staring aimlessly at his ceiling before drifting to sleep.

You find yourself missing Seungmin.

It’s funny how a few weeks spent with him has you clinging onto his presence, and his teasing, and his stupid jokes. Everything about him feels so much more warm, and you don’t know how to feel about the fact that it’s so suddenly ripped away from you.

You don’t realize you ask about him unconsciously, to Felix, to your shared friends. You just wonder how he’s doing most of the time. He barely bothers you during homeroom anymore—and you’re back to square one. You’re back to small greetings.

You’re not even granted the teases you used to hate so much.

He’s more reserved now, keeps to himself most of the time and only really speaks when the teacher asks him to. When you open your locker, you find no one closing it right away. Instead, Felix is there to accompany you.

You’re conflicted with your own feelings, but you know whatever is happening right now is good, because you’ve puked way less than you have over the past few months and the sitting weight on your chest doesn’t feel so constricting anymore.

You think it started to disappear a few days after that day in the arcade with Seungmin.

It hurts like a bitch to be ignored. Especially by him.

It seems that every time the boy sees you, he bolts towards the opposite direction. You’d thought it was just coincidences, that he hadn’t been deliberately avoiding you. Just reserved, just not in the mood.

“Seungmin!” You would wave at him when you see him in the hallway, just like you always do. But instead of the usual smile that you get, he would turn away. And you’re left to wonder why the hell he was avoiding you.

His cold shoulder is unappreciated by you, and you try to confront him best you can. You recruit the help of Hyunjin and Han, for the love of God. And even they are confused why their friend is suddenly ignoring you.

So, when they’re able to corner him where you want him, you waste no time to confront his sudden shift in behavior.

“You wanna tell me why you’re ignoring me?”

He has the audacity to avoid your gaze. “I’m not.”

“You are. All week, in fact.” You send him a sharp look, to which he responds with a frustrated breath.

“Well, what do you want from me? You got what you wanted. I didn’t think we’d need to keep talking.”

You stare at him, open-mouth and furrowed eyebrows. “I thought… I thought we were friends.”

“Well, you thought wrong.”

You blink at the impact of his response.

Well, that was a cause for instant heartbreak.

Even a few days later, you can’t hide your dejection at being refused of a friendship with a boy you’d grown comfortable with. Had the times he helped you not meant anything to him? Were his laughs not genuine in the way you thought they were?

“Is there something that’s bothering you?” Yeji’s hand squeezes your shoulder when she finds you spaced out after your last class. “You look like you’re deep in thought.”

“Just conflicted.”

You would consider yourself smart, more than average even. You know there’s a reason why you miss Seungmin on a day to day basis, why you feel the need to mention him every chance that you get, why you feel a little excited to see him in the hallway only to feel disappointment when he doesn’t share the same enthusiasm, why your heart breaks at the stranger treatment.

That squeezing pain in your sternum, similar to a stab, whenever he brushes you off is not just because you miss his taunting. No, you know better than that. And you definitely know enough when you don’t feel that same excitement for Lee Felix.

And then there’s silence for a moment while you try to navigate through the maze of your own thoughts. It’s akin to the pause after a lightning bolt strikes, those very few seconds before the thunder. In those few seconds, you unexpectedly draft back to the past few weeks. Now in the absence of his presence, you find yourself yearning for him—any fragment you can get of him. His smile, his gaze, his fucking laugh. The kind of laugh that’s whole, and full of heart, and so free. The one you thought you’d never be subjected to.

These few heartbeats hold an anticipation, one, two, three… and then the thunder rolls in and you finally understand.

You like Kim Seungmin—a testament to your sudden unpredictable turn of the heart, the reason why that tight feeling in your chest had lessened until you barely remember you had that disease in the first place. It wasn’t because Felix was reciprocating your feelings, the sole reason lies in Seungmin’s hands, along with your heart.

It doesn’t matter the sting of his words that day he’d demoted you back to an acquaintance, neither when he would act icy to you now. You weren’t going to give up so easily.

You cancel plans with Felix that day, and he doesn’t seem to mind all that much. It seems he’s realized it himself, known for quite a while. And while you feel guilty, he’s simply unfazed, even reassures you that it’s never in your choice who you end up falling for.

“You won’t be able to forgive yourself for all the things you don’t say until it’s too late.”

It’s a sentence enough to push you to find the one boy responsible for single-handingly ridding you of a disease that had burdened you for so long.

Sighing out, you clutch onto your backpack, hugging it to yourself as you kick at some pebbles on the ground. It’s been a while since you’ve left through the back exit of your school, and it feels a little nice to be waiting there again.

You hope Seungmin still takes the same path home.

Unbeknownst to you, Seungmin stays behind to look for Mr. Choi. There were two things that have been clouding his mind, and if he can’t gather the courage to talk to you, he might as well solve that stupid cube.

He doesn’t know why he’s so attached to a homeroom activity that probably meant nothing, but he thinks that if he solves one thing, he’d feel more at ease. He wouldn’t feel as messy as he did right now.

He just needed this one thing.

“Mr. Choi?”

“Seungmin? What can I do for you?” He’s confused to find the boy who’s always late to his class standing outside his office, but he still welcomes the kid.

“Can I ask you about that cube activity?”

Mr. Choi laughs, motioning for the boy to come in and telling him to sit. Then, he’s rummaging through his office and pulling out that same cube he’d placed on your tables weeks ago. “What do you wanna know about it?”

“How…? How were we supposed to open it without destroying it?”

“By simply asking me.”

“What?”

Your homeroom teacher laughs again, grabbing the cube from the boy and taking out a small pin. “There’s a little hole here, that if you push with a pin, you can open it.”

“Then why let us try to open it if only you could?”

“The point in the lesson was to ask permission. It was to take into consideration the hard work placed into making this cube and how only the owner understands how to open it with their permission.”

Seungmin’s mouth is agape as he tries to grasp whatever Mr. Choi was saying, but there was interest in his gaze. He was clearly trying to follow along.

“This cube is like a person.” Mr. Choi gives him a small smile. “You can only be let into someone’s heart if you simply ask to be let into the walls they’ve carefully built for themselves.”

There’s a moment of silence before Seungmin abruptly stands from his seat. “Thank you, Mr. Choi.” And then he’s off running from the office, phone in hand to dial in your number. He couldn’t take it anymore – he needed to speak to you.

Fuck whatever plan he had of ignoring you. That was stupid. He was being stupid, and his heart still aches at the way your face had dropped when he’d refused you of something as simple as a friendship when he’d seen you as someone entirely more than that.

Seungmin’s heart pounds in his chest as he dashes through the classroom, phone clutched tightly in his trembling hand. He needed to find you, tell you the things that’d been in his heart. The catalyst of Mr. Choi’s conversation provides him a clarity he didn’t know he needed, so he runs. He runs, and runs, and runs like he’s never before.

His breath comes in ragged gasps, but his mind is singularly focused on one destination, the only direction he needed to go, and that was wherever you were. He knew now, with a certainty that eclipsed any doubt, that he couldn't let fear or uncertainty hold him back any longer. He doesn’t want to keep the unknown unknown anymore.

He finds you where he used to, just about to grab your buzzing phone in your pocket. When you turn to the sound of heavy steps, you can only look in concern when you notice Seungmin’s disheveled appearance, sweat glistening on his forehead like it did when he was late to homeroom weeks ago.

“Seungmin?” You asked, voice riddled with worry. “What’s wrong? Why are you panti—”

“You’re Mr. Choi’s cube.” He blurts out amidst his heaving chest and uneven breathing. There is an intensity in his gaze you’d never seen before, and it looks like there are words itching at his throat that he’s struggling to say.

You tilt your head, eyebrows furrowed as you try to follow along to whatever the hell Seungmin was saying right now. “What?”

“You’re… you’re Mr. Choi’s cube. And for so long, I thought the solution was to shatter you. I thought the only way to get your attention was to destroy the walls you’ve built around you, but you made me realize differently.”

“What are you saying?”

For a moment he stays silent, staring at the ground beneath you before lifting his gaze back at you. It’s unmistakable the look on Seungmin’s face. Like he wanted to go slow, but he was too far into his feelings that he’s kicking everything up a notch by the second.

Knowing someone, and loving someone who has put so much effort into building the wall around them should be done with their permission. No one has the right to break it down, and shatter it, and leave them with the scraps of something they had worked so hard on building to protect themselves.

You used to always be so guarded, angry with your feelings, never letting anyone in.

Seungmin’s words are quiet, slipping out in vulnerability. “I’m asking to be let in. I’m asking… if you could let me in.”

You blink in surprise, and there’s a pause as you look at him with parted lips. And then you smile.

“I already let you in a long time ago.” There’s a contented flutter in his heart when you push yourself to hug him. He stands a lot inches taller than you, head buried in your hair as he pulls you impossibly closer.

In the way he’s in front of you, he looks like someone you’ve never met. Soft, blinking eyes that arrow straight down to your lips.

“I’m sorry it took me such a long time to figure it out.” He whispers, and it looks like he’s thinking, but you don’t know of what.

“You were such an ass for ignoring me.”

“I’m sorry. I thought, it’d go away if I did. That I wouldn’t feel so guilty if I did.”

“You’re so stupid.”

“Can I kiss you?” His voice softens when he asks you.

Against the wall of the school’s back exit is where Seungmin kisses you for the first time, like he’d been waiting for this for a stretch of time. Your heart tightens at the action, and he lets his huge hands linger just around your waist, fingers toying with the ends of your top. It makes you tremble. He kisses you so feverishly, so genuinely.

You’d like to stay here forever, and if not forever, then a few moments more with his arms around you and your head buried deep in his chest.

He liked his routine; it ensured him that his world would continue to go round as he woke up to fresh scratches on his back, and sore muscles that were worked out in the fields and in his bed with you. So, if he wasn't in the town hall right now, he could be hearing that little whine you make when he sinks into you nice and deep, your pretty nails clawing for mercy while you take all of him like he knew you could.

But instead, here he was, the dirt on his cowboy boots scuffing the old wood floor as he sat in the uncomfortable folding chair provided by the assistant to the mayor. His jeans covered the expanse of his thick thighs, his flannel stretching across his chest as he folded his arms with a furrowed brow. He watched as the mayor tried to placate the postman and the grocery store manager, the two grown men fighting over the location of the mailbox in front of 'Gyu's Grocery Store', and Woozi could feel his jaw tense.

This was a stupid meeting. It was the same meeting they always had once a month, and it had nothing to do with him or the farm.

And it's just as he begins to grind his teeth in annoyance that he feels you nonchalantly place your thigh against his.

The town meeting required everyone in Silver Springs to attend, and because the town wasn't big at all, everyone who wasn't a child attended the small town meeting. Nothing really exciting happened in Silver Springs; everyone pretty much knew everyone else since birth, and therefore, the only new bit of drama that could unfold was at these types of events.

Hence why Jeonghan had an amused grin playing on his lips as he shared a thing of popcorn with Joshua, the owner of the only candy shop in the town center.

Jihoon was a quiet man; he wasn't a man for displays of affection in these types of situations where anyone could see him, so when you touch him - his breath stills. He knew he loved you; it was a feeling etched in his bones, the same type of knowing he got when he could look at the clouds for a minute or two and know there would be a storm later in the evening. It's ultimately how his entire body hums alive when you give him the simplest touch. Your knee knocks into his knee, and it feels like electricity shoots through his veins.

You're sitting right next to him in the same type of folding chair, wearing your pretty little summer dress, which you made from scratch, and you had paired it with some little heels to match. You're a complete contrast to him. He's got dirt and grass stains smudged onto his jeans and boots, a simple flannel for a shirt, and his old black cowboy hat resting on his lap. If anyone walked in and didn't know who Woozi was or you, they'd never guess you were his wife.

I mean, you don't even spare Jihoon a glance when your thigh presses into his, your bare skin rubbing against the rough material of his jeans while the mayor demands the postman to sit down. You simply fold your hands in your lap, head raised tall, an aura of elegance coming from you. You looked perfect, but maybe Woozi was just biased.

The town meeting goes by quickly after that; Jihoon doesn't focus on the same monologue everyone gives once a month. Instead, he chooses to focus on the way your bare thigh feels against his. That your pretty little heels are next to his dirty cowboy boots, and if he moves, your perfect put-together look would be ruined.

His mind wanders.

His fingers twitch.

And when the meeting comes to a close, he doesn't hesitate to grab your hand in his. He holds you firmly, guiding you through the thick crowd as you two make your way to his red truck. Again, the contrast screams in his head. His eyes were watching you as he helped you inside his truck after opening the door for you, noticing how you stood out compared to him, and he made it halfway home before he finally couldn't take it anymore.

The truck pulls over onto the gravel road, bouncing you a little in your seat before he turns the truck completely off. When you realize you are somewhere on Woozi's farm, you try to figure out how far the Big House is. There's so much land he owns, and it's dark out, so you're not entirely sure where on the farm you both are, but it doesn't matter when he's calling to you softly.

Jihoon coaxes you closer with an outstretched hand, his fingers curling to beckon you near as he says, "c'mere." He's not asking, and you don't hesitate. You easily slide across the bench seat of the truck until Jihoon pulls you himself, his patience running thin as he brings you onto his lap directly.

You can feel the buckle of his belt against your pelvis, his jeans rubbing against your inner thighs as his fingers dig into your waist. It's cramped, but you've never felt more comfortable than right here as he looks up at you. His hat is tilted back, his hair almost falling into his eyes, as you rest your hands on his chest.

The air is charged with tension, your breath stuck in your lungs before Woozi breaks the silence. "I fucking hate those meetings."

It's unexpected, and it jolts you into laughter, your lips pulling up in an amused grin as he deadpans you. He meant every word, and you know he did.

"I'm serious. They wasted my time, and they wasted yours." He grumbles, and your shoulders shake as he leans back in his seat, the movement making you grind against his lap, and it quietens your giggles. "Could spend my time doing better things."

You know what he's hinting at, and you know you're not in public, but your eyes still flicker from window to window of the truck before you meet his eyes again. You notice the way his eyes have darkened, his lips parting as a soft pink dusts his cheeks with color. "Is that so?" You muse, your heart rate picking up pace as warmth pools between your thighs. "And what would that be?"

Your husband doesn't answer you; he pulls you into a kiss to show you. His warm hands are holding your lower back to keep you close, and he kisses you like summer rain, slow and steady, like he's got nowhere else to be. His hands move up your back and up to your face, tilting your head back so he can begin his trail of kisses down your neck, stopping in spots where you moan sweeter than before. And you're unsure how you end up on your back, splayed out on the bench seat of the 1970s boxed truck he drove, but Jihoon is fitting his hips between your legs like the last piece of a jigsaw puzzle.

His denim jeans rub deliciously between your plush thighs, and your dress gets flipped up high enough for him to pull your panties down. You're just thankful that the windows are cracked because otherwise, you were pretty sure the windows would be fogged up by now with the way he's got you gasping for air.

When Jihoon's calloused fingers find your pretty pussy soaking wet and needy, he's got the top of your dress already bunched at your waist, his tongue laving over one of your nipples as you moan in pleasure. "This is what I ought to be doin'," he mumbles against the curve of your breast, his teeth nipping the supple skin as he swirls his thumb around your puffy clit. You make a keen whine, jutting your hips with a jolt that makes his smile grow. "Should be pleasing my wife, taking care of her. Isn't that right, my love?"

He doesn't expect an answer from you. Not when he's filling your sweet pussy with two of his fingers, stretching your gummy walls open as he sinks his digits to the knuckle.

You take him easy, already soaking wet for him, like always, and Woozi goes back to sucking your nipple into his mouth. He thrusts his fingers into your drooling cunt like he wasn't pulled over by one of the fields he owned, curling them just right, and your head swims with desire. He takes in the hitch in your breath, the way your legs fall open wider, your knee knocking into the dashboard of his truck as you take another one of his fingers, and the heart in his chest grows warmer.

"You take me so well, Peach." Woozi praises, and he looks between you two to see how glistening wet you make his fingers. "Should just have you like this all the time, wrapped around me, and making those sweet noises just for me." The sound of your pussy becoming wetter fills the small space, and your nails dig into his biceps, your cheeks flushed as he curls his fingers again and again.

He grazes the spongy spot that makes you see white, and your entire body tenses as you moan loudly for him. "Right there, oh! Right there!" You babble, and Woozi thinks about the contrast again. How pretty and put-together you were at the town meeting, and how ruined you are now.

Your dress is bunched up around your waist. Your pretty tits are exposed to his hungry eyes, and your sweet pussy is slurping on his fingers, begging for more, while he is still fully dressed. The power imbalance is unable to be hidden in Woozi's eyes, and his cock was hard and heavy in his jeans, wishing to be buried deep inside your drooling cunt as he got you rolling your eyes to the back of your head. His cowboy boots leave dusty footprints on the inside of his driver's side door as he brings your orgasm close, but he couldn't care less because after a few more strokes to your g-spot, he gets to see you like this: disheveled, holding onto him like a lifeline, and a complete mess as you cum with a cry of his name.

You tremble underneath him, your pussy spasming around his fingers while you gush hot and sweet, bucking your hips like you can't control them yourself. And Woozi's chest warms with pride, his fingers working between your thighs to fuck you through it, prolonging your high as your eyes glaze over in ecstasy.

When your tremors subside to little twitches in your thighs, he leans back, slipping his fingers from your sopping cunt with a satisfied grin. He keeps eye contact with you as he licks his digits clean, groaning at the taste of you, and murmuring, "sweet as a peach," while you try to blink away your bleary vision. "I think this was better than any town meeting."

And you can't disagree when he's unbuckling his belt, moving to shove his jeans down so he can get his cock free.

The weather is perfect today on the farm. It's clear skies and a sweet breeze that make the rows and rows of trees sway in the wind gently; the green leaves do a little shimmy before settling back in place, and you stand in your kitchen barefoot.

Normally, you'd always be dressed down to the kitten heels at the very least. Your wardrobe is usually picked out the night before, matching the perfectly fixed hair that you take your time to do every morning, but today is different. You are off today, not needed in town after your assistant threatened to lock the doors to your shop if you tried to come in. Minghao was like that, a sharp eye that meant well, and you were the kind of boss who didn't know what an off day meant until it hit you. So, after some whining from you that your assistant easily blocked, you were hung up on and left to your own devices.

But now what?

You're still in your pajamas, which consisted of a shirt of your husband's and little ruffled shorts you hand-made yourself, and your hands rested on your hips as you tried to figure out what to do for the rest of the day.

Your husband was long gone by now, somewhere on the farm working hard; he always got up before the sun did, and you would wake up to a pot of coffee waiting for you, still hot on the kitchen counter when you eventually made it downstairs.

That's what you gravitate to first.

You see the new mug set out on your kitchen counter; today it's shaped like a cowboy boot, and you fill it up with coffee Woozi left on. This was your routine. Woozi made coffee, something he desperately needed to start his day, and he made enough for both of you as he picked out the mug he wanted you to use for the day.

The first sip warms you entirely, making your lips curve into a soft smile as the taste of coffee and creamer swirls along your tongue. You're feeling more awake as you lean your hip against the old counter, your eyes flickering to the window above your kitchen sink.

You look out the window, ready to enjoy the view, when you spot your husband a little bit in the distance. He's on top of one of the big tractors he owns, tinkering on it as one of the dogs you two own zooms around it, making your husband shake his head. You don't have to be close to know he's smiling, and you can't tear your eyes off of him.

He's in his normal uniform: denim jeans, a plaid flannel, and a black cowboy hat. He's got the sleeves of his flannel rolled up to his elbows, and you know that even with his hat, he's got to be sweating. The summer hadn't turned unbearable yet, but it was still hot to be out there for long periods of time without any shade.

And you're just thinking about making him some lemonade or a snack when he's suddenly coming through the kitchen door, making you blink in surprise. You hadn't realized you were so lost in thought, but it seems you surprise Woozi just as much as he does you. He falters in step for a second, taking you in slowly, seeing your bare legs and feet as you hug the cowboy mug to your chest. You would normally be gone by now, halfway to work, but with your day off, you aren't.

You twist your body to face your husband, leaning back into the corner of the kitchen counter as he keeps eye contact with you. His eyes flicker, and it's too fast for you to try and read the emotions, but you watch as he silently opens the door of the fridge, grabbing a cold water bottle before he copies your stance - leaning back on the kitchen table, facing you, as he crosses his feet by his ankles.

His eyes stay on yours as he takes a moment to speak up, choosing to instead open the water bottle with an easy twist before bringing it to his mouth. Your eyelashes flutter as he takes a drink, a brief memory of last night flashing through your mind, and you're feeling more than envisioning his mouth sucking on something else that makes your thighs clench together in need. You watch his throat work, drinking in the water while your eyes wander down his body.

His flannel hugs his torso, stretching over muscles built by long days of hard labor, and you can't help but appreciate it. His thighs fill his jeans, and his forearms flex as they cross at his chest - and you're all but salivating at the mouth for your husband.

"You doin' work from home today?" He asks, breaking the silence and pulling you from your wandering thoughts. You shift from one foot to the other, not knowing that you were driving him insane by being in just your pajamas and a little messy hair. He wanted to bend you over the counter, spread your thighs, and tell you how much he needed to relieve some stress. How one of the tractors started acting up, getting on his nerves, and only your pretty pussy could help him get through the rest of his day - but instead, he does his best to restrain himself. He quirks a brow in your direction and watches you lick your lips before answering.

"No, I uh, took the day off." His eyebrows raise more at that, and he taps the empty water bottle against his bicep in thought. He doesn't know if he really could be productive today when he knows his wife will be inside all day, wearing his shirt, and hardly anything else. "But it could give me time to catch up on some personal work," you add, and Woozi stays quiet.

In the Big House, your home, Woozi had made sure you had your own office. A place where you could bring work home, or create on your own when you had the time. But you were always busy with something, especially since you were the main seamstress in town, and therefore, you hardly ever had time to create your own work.

Another beat of silence stretches between you two, and eventually Woozi nods his head to himself, standing straighter as he clears his throat with a little grunt. "Well, maybe I can join you for lunch if I can fix the tractor in time."

You knew your husband well enough to know that he wasn't a man of many words; he showed his affection through actions, and you knew that he'd do his best to find time to see you, and it made your heart flutter as he pushed off from the table. He seemed to hesitate again, just briefly, before he took two big steps toward you. When he was close enough for you to feel the heat radiating from his body, his hand reached for your face, pulling you half-way until his lips barely brushed yours.

It made you gasp, your eyes widening as your cheeks flushed, and you felt more than you saw, his lips curving into a knowing smirk. He hummed softly, and your lips tingled before he finally gave you a kiss that made your head spin. But as soon as he kissed you, he was pulling back, his tongue licking over his bottom lip as he cleared his throat like he was restraining himself. "Good morning, by the way."

And then he was gone, back outside with your two dogs at his heels while you slumped into the kitchen counter.

How were you supposed to be productive today after that?

Three hours later, you give up trying to work from home entirely when you're too distracted by your husband working outside. Your office faces the East, filling the small room full of fabrics in a warm glow, and giving you the perfect view of your husband riding the tractor he fixed. He's going up and down in the field to your left, and you're going insane alone with your unfinished projects.

Even from where you stood in the Big House, you could see that more buttons had come undone on his flannel, exposing his skin to the sunlight, and leaving you in a trance that makes you shake your head literally. You only got like this, dazed, with your husband; you were usually more composed, focused, and a little cold out in public. You owned and ran your own business, all from money you had earned through hard work, and it had taken years to get where you were now.

You had finally started becoming a recognized brand that was highly respected, and it was because you could remain composed, level, and meticulous in everything you did.

That's why no one would ever believe you if you told them you were in the kitchen making homemade lemonade as an excuse to see your husband instead of working.

You were still in your pajamas, your ruffled shorts hidden under your husband's old t-shirt as you added water to the pretty pitcher you had been gifted for your wedding. All the lemons you had stored on the kitchen counter had been juiced, and your cheeks were flushed from the silliness you felt by doing this. You could just go outside and call him over. You knew he'd drop everything, but you had no reason to interrupt his work. So, you didn't stop your lame excuse and grabbed the sugar from your pantry to stir in with your water until the lemonade was as sweet as the lemonade you could get from the state fair.

Once you were satisfied, you poured a tall glass with ice full of your lemonade before you ventured out the sliding glass door in your kitchen. Your stomach flipped as you realized you had no shoes to wear that wouldn't get ruined by mud, and you decided to carefully shake out your husband's extra pair of cowboy boots before you stepped in them.

The boots were old, worn, and dusty, but it was all you had, even if they didn't go with your outfit and they felt a little big to be walking in. Nevertheless, you were determined, and with the glass of lemonade in one hand, you stepped off the porch in search of your husband.

Luckily, it was not too hard to find him; you only had to glance at the field you last saw him in before you saw the barn door open in the distance. He must be getting ready to saddle one of the horses, and the thought alone made you walk faster so you wouldn't miss him.

The red barn was one of the bigger ones on the farm. Jihoon had four in total, not including the Big House, and they had been on this land long before he was even born. They had withstood rainstorms, snow, and a flood back in the eighties, and the goal was that they would be here long after him. Some paint peeled now and then, and Woozi would have to hire contractors to come look at a leak in the roof soon, but most of the time, it was the sanctuary he gave himself in between tasks for the day.

Amongst the stalls for the horses, and the extra bales of hay in the corner, the barn also housed all the gear he needed to saddle his horse or brush them after a long day, and a little workbench he was currently leaning against to give himself a small break. He was hoping to finish early to see you back home sooner, and he had been so lost daydreaming about you from this morning that he hadn't noticed you hesitantly walking in until you were calling for him softly.

"I made lemonade."

Woozi blinks; his flannel is fully open now, and he catches the way your eyes flicker down to the lines and ridges of his abs as you come to a halt a couple of feet away from him. His lips twitch, an amused grin almost showing on his face as his dark eyes move from you standing there like his greatest temptation and the cup of lemonade in your left hand.

"You made lemonade?" He mused, and he leaned further back against the workbench, allowing his flannel to fall from his sides. He can see you shift from one foot to the other like you were unsure of yourself, out of your element, and it's then that he realizes you're wearing more of his stuff than before, and the sight of it makes his cock twitch in delight.

"Yeah, I uh," you lick your lips and trail off because your mind is wandering south just like your eyes. You briefly wonder what it'd feel like being bent over the desk he's leaning on, and your thighs squeeze together pathetically in response. "I uh, thought maybe you'd be thirsty."

Thirsty. Jihoon nods to himself, agreeing he's thirsty, but not for your lemonade.

He stands up, slow and confident, loving that you made this excuse to see him, and he walks closer with deliberate, languid steps. His pretty wife, it seems, had been thinking about him as much as he has been thinking about you all day today. And when he finally takes your cup from your hand, he's all but backed you into one of the haystacks with a knowing smirk that makes your breath hitch in your throat.

"You're right," He hums and keeps eye contact with you as he sets the cup to the side on an adjacent haystack. His hands find their way to your waist, slipping under his shirt to touch your hips without anything in the way, and the feel of his calloused fingertips against your smooth skin makes your eyelashes flutter. "I am thirsty," he says it low and deep, and you're clutching onto his biceps as he lifts you to sit on the haystack with ease.

From this height, your hips are the height of his chest, and your gasp echoes as your husband pulls your ass to the edge, his eyes sparkling while heat pools in your stomach.

"You gonna let me fix that, my love? Let me have a taste after working so hard in the sun today." His words make your heart pick up the pace, stuttering in your chest, and you find yourself nodding dumbly as his fingers hook into your ruffled shorts and panties.

He drags the two pieces of clothing down until they are balled up next to the useless cup of lemonade, and then he's pushing you back gently, forcing you onto your back as he manhandles your knees to your chest, exposing your pretty pussy to the open air.

It should be embarrassing how wet you already are, and how much more of your slick seeps from your puffy folds when Jihoon moans. He hasn't even done anything but stare, watching how your sensitive clit glitters with your juices as he stands over you. "Always so good for me," he praises, and you're unable to speak when he dives right in.

His hot tongue is thick, and the wet muscle laps up your slit like you're his favorite meal. And maybe, it's because you are. His fingers dig into the fat of your thighs, keep you spread open, and his nose buries itself against your clit as he slurps obscenely, letting the noises echo in the big barn. It's dirty how he has you, with your ass hanging on the edge of the haystack as he messily makes out with your cunt, but you've also never been more turned on.

Your hands scramble to hold onto something, anything, before you bring his face closer to your pretty pussy, your hips rocking up to match the filthy thrusts of his tongue plunging into your sopping cunt.

The familiar heat in your stomach swirls tighter with each sloppy shake of Jihoon's head between your plush thighs, and your cries resonate in the tall barn louder, mixing with his lovesick groans. "This is just - hah - what I needed-" He confesses, and you feel his hand leave your thigh before two of his fingers stuff your cunt with a sticky squelch. Your eyes swirl, and your jaw drops, and Jihoon dives back in, sucking your clit into his mouth with a precise curl of his fingers that makes your ears ring.

Stars burst behind your eyelids, bringing your orgasm closer, and your whimpers turn more wrecked as he focuses on the soft spots inside you that have you thrashing underneath him.

"You don't even know how much I wanted to fuck you when I saw you this morning." His words come out between his tongue lapping on your pulsing clit, and the deep plunges of his thick fingers inside your pussy. His lips and jaw are dripping with your arousal, and he's only more determined to make a mess out of you as he keeps talking you through it. "Just - ngh - wanted to bend ya' over our kitchen table, see if your pretty pussy was still molded to m'cock from last night."

Your gasp comes out choked, and your gummy walls tighten around his three digits, squeezing him in pulses as your orgasm crashes through you suddenly. You cry out his name when you cum, and Jihoon replaces his fingers with his tongue, slurping your slick while his thumb rubs sloppy hearts into your clit, fucking you through it with a happy groan. He rides out every wave of your orgasm until your noises come out silent and you're oversensitive, weakly pushing on his head to let you go.

When Woozi finally listens, he places a sweet kiss on your trembling thighs before he stands back up from his hunched position. Your arousal coats his nose, lips, and jaw with a glittering shine that has your cheeks blushing a darker shade, and the pleased smirk he gives you when you lie there boneless has your pussy fluttering with new tremors.

You watch him lick his lips before grabbing your forgotten lemonade. He makes sure you're watching as he takes a sip, sighing in contentment before he gives you a teasing wink. "Sweet, but you're sweeter."

When the leaves change colors in the fall, the farm changes with it. It'd been an annual event for the pumpkin patch to be held on your husband's farm. It'd been the designated place for generations, so as the spooky holiday neared, your work balanced between running your business in town and creating side projects to decorate your land for the town to enjoy with their family and friends.

The usual staples would be provided, like bobbing for apples, hay rides, pumpkin picking, and a corn maze that you were determined to make spooky enough for the teenagers when they came during the evening. It was always like that: kids and families came during the day for wholesome fun, and then teenagers and young adults came in the evening for date night and scares. You were proud to be a part of this tradition, and the whole town helped, so it wasn't just on you and your husband's shoulders.

Mingyu, Seungcheol, and Dino came early to help your husband set up tables, guide food trucks to a clear field, and put up structures that you had painted the week before. Seungkwan supervised not only the kids' activities because he was everyone's favorite school teacher, but also the rest of the town on what their job was and how to do it properly. He had muttered to you that otherwise no one would do it right, and it made you hide your grin behind your hand as he sauntered off to find Vernon, who was supposed to have the raffle tickets for the prizes that would be won later.

You had felt like you had been pulled in every other direction putting this whole thing together, and it also felt like you had hardly seen your husband unless it was across the way, and he was busy with another task with one of the boys. You'd catch him lifting hay bales, muscles flexing under the autumn sun, before someone would come to talk to you about an activity, distracting you from your view of your man, and when you looked back moments later, he'd be gone. The moments seemed to build as time went on, and before you had realized it, hours had passed, and the kids and families were gone, while the evening rolled in with the next wave of people.

Eventually, you'd find yourself back inside the Big House, which was off-limits to others but your husband and you, and it was your solace as you leaned on the kitchen sink with a heavy sigh. The kitchen window gave you a view of adults mingling around, laughing and talking, and you felt satisfied with how the event turned out, even if you were tired and missing your husband more than usual. The last time you had seen him, it was just before four in the afternoon, and Seungkwan was hosting the last kids' bobbing for apples activity with you right next to him.

Your eyes had wandered from Seungkwan's dramatic flair on how to actually bob for apples to the tractor dragging the hitched trailer full of families, your husband being the person behind the wheel as he drove it around for everyone.

Jihoon had his black cowboy hat tipped back, his posture relaxed and confident, and the urge to kiss him consumed you so suddenly you felt frozen. You couldn't keep your eyes off of him, watching as he drove nearer, and as if he could feel you staring, his head turned, and his dark eyes caught yours like two magnets snapping together.

With one look, your breath caught, your cheeks flushed, and Jihoon's lips curved up in amusement. When he was close enough, he tipped his hat to you nice and slow, a teasing smile dancing on his face as he murmured, "My love," before driving by. It was just two words, but it was enough to make your tummy flip and your neediness grow as Seungkwan redirected your attention to the kids who were clamoring to bite one apple from one of the five barrels in front of them.

You had spent the rest of the day in a daze, your eyes glossed over with very little attention span, and you hadn't even realized you were no longer alone in your kitchen until your husband spoke up.

"My love," those two little words snap you from your wandering thoughts, and your head turned to look over your shoulder towards your husband, who was wearing the same teasing smile as before.

When you realize you're finally alone with him, your body moves faster than your mind, and you're not hesitating as you pull him into a kiss that makes his warm hands squeeze your hips with a groan. You take charge of the kiss easily, nipping on his bottom lip with your teeth as your hand snakes down his chest to the waistband of his jeans. You make quick work of his belt, sliding his zipper down and unbuttoning his jeans until they bunch at his knees with an eagerness that makes his head spin.

He lets out a strangled noise when you pull back from his kiss just enough to see his eyes swirl, and his cheeks darken with a blush. His hat is tilted back, his eyebrows are furrowed, and his cock is growing a tent in his boxers as your palm rubs against it, squeezing him through the thin material that separates him from you.

Precum oozes from his tip, staining the fabric enough for you to see, and your smile is all seduction as he holds onto the kitchen counter tightly. "Were you missing me, too?" You asked Jihoon with a flutter of your eyelashes. You've taken to stroking him through his boxers, circling your thumb around the tip until heat ached down to his lower stomach. His abdomen tensed, his knuckles whitened, and your husband looked too good being this wrecked over a few tugs of your hand.

"Baby-" His moan came out desperate, his hooded eyes never leaving yours as his hips twitched under your hand. "Fuck, yeah- ngh - missed you s'much." Your touch became firmer as he stuttered through his words, and your hand moved underneath the waistband of his boxers to feel him hot and pulsing under your palm.

The mere touch of your hand made a whine slip from his lips, and his head tilted backwards as you used his precum as lubricant to tug on his cock. Obscene "schlick!" noises resonated in the kitchen as the event happened just twenty feet away outside your kitchen window, and your husband's head began to fill with nothing but the way your hand felt around his cock, and the pretty smile you gave as the wet repetitive sound of your hand pumping deliberate strokes grew more frequent with each squeeze you gave to his tip.

His hips moved in tandem with your hand, thrusting his cock into your tight grip, and just when he thought you couldn't get any hotter, you're sinking onto your knees between his spread legs.

His cock is heavy, weighing down from the amount of blood that rushed south to it, and his tip is cherry red with need. The sight of him, hard, pulsing, and leaking gooey precum profusely, has your mouth watering, and you're only able to give him a cheeky wink before his vision swims, and your warm mouth swallows his tip with a satisfied moan.

"Oh fuck," his curse comes out choked off, and his muscles flex as the coil of pressure in his abdomen tightens to an overwhelming tremor. His breath leaves his lungs, and your mouth slides further down his cock until his hand comes to twist in your hair. He doesn't pull you off or guide your movements; he just uses it as a hold to keep himself grounded as your mouth slurps his cock all the way down to the base.

Your nose brushes the trimmed hair on his pelvis, and his balls tighten with each wet, slobbery bob of your head. The slippery friction of your warm mouth leaves him gasping for air as you take him all the way down your throat before going back up to swirl your tongue around his tip. The sloppy sucks of your lips wrapped around his shaft increase, your pace picking up, and his hand on the back of your head gets heavier with each filthy "gulk!" your throat makes when his cock stuffs it to the brim.

After a few more bobs from you, he can't take it anymore, and he holds your head still, his hips rolling forward on their own accord as he takes over. The pleasure became too much, and your eyes watered as he fucked your mouth, your name coming out as a thankful chant. When he looked down at you, his eyes were blown wide, glossy like your lips, and the sight of you blinking up at him as you let him use you was enough to make the pressure building inside him burst.

His hips jutted forward, his thrusts stuttering into an erratic rhythm as his eyes squeezed shut so tightly that colors exploded behind his eyelids. Your name tore through his throat, raw and undone, echoing in the room as a mix between a broken sob and a gasp. All of his muscles locked up, his hand keeping your head down on his cock, forcing your throat to swallow around his thick length as his tip twitched with the first wave of his release.

His thighs trembled, and he fought to stay upright as you sucked on his sensitive tip until you had swallowed every last drop of his cum. Your tongue massaged the pulsing veins down his length, and when the waves of pleasure began to subside, you finally let him go with a wet "pop!"

Your tongue licked your lips clean as he slumped into the kitchen counter, out of breath, and you stood up slowly, getting onto your tiptoes as you gave him another slow kiss, letting him taste himself on your tongue. "I missed you." You murmured against his lips, and his fingers curled into your dress tighter, bringing you closer.

The coldness that creeps in, foreboding the coming of winter, brings slower work for Woozi; by this point, he's moved his cattle from one area to the next, and he's prepping the old land they were on for better growth for next spring as he manages the shorter days with less sun.

He's still busy almost the entire day, but with it being the colder season, he's able to finish up earlier with fewer tasks needing his attention, which allows him to have dinner with you on a four-day regular basis, an upgrade to your normal two- to three-day dinner dates.

You two work in tandem to cook a home-cooked meal, provided by his hard work, whenever you can, and while you insist on cooking, he insists on setting the table once he's finished with work for the day. The routine is simple: you arrive at the Big House around five-thirty like usual, and immediately get to cooking, and once Jihoon comes in for the day, you're usually half-way done with dinner to allow him to wash up and set the table in the meantime. You two don't really talk as much during this time; you know your husband isn't much for talking unless necessary, so you're not prepared when he comes in a little later than usual and sets his black cowboy hat down on the kitchen counter without so much of a glance.

His walk is heavier than usual, his eyes set on you as you stir the pasta you had made in the pot, and a shiver runs up your spine when you meet his dark eyes. "I just need to make the salad, and dinner should be ready," you say, and you mistake the hunger in his eyes for food. You don't know he's had a rough day, that every little thing seemed to go wrong, and he had pent his frustration in a slow swirl that tightened up like a rattlesnake's tail that jittered in warning before striking.

The silence hangs heavily between you both, and you could feel the air shift, electrifying the tension, and you had made the fortunate move of flipping the stove top burner off before you spoke up again.

"I just need you to set the table-" you are unable to finish your sentence before your husband reaches for you. The rattlesnake struck, gripping you with strength that made you gasp as you were whirled around the kitchen until your chest met your kitchen table. The wood table was cold against the little slip dress you had worn to work. The thin material hugged your body, stretching tight when Jihoon manhandled you to bend over the table, and your arms were behind your back before you could say his name in alarm.

His one hand holds both of your wrists in a taut grasp, and another gasp leaves your glossy lips when his cowboy boot kicks your legs open wider. You can feel his hips against your ass, his buckle digging into the end of your dress, and your cheeks flush as you feel his cock is already hard under his fitted jeans. "I'm going to fuck you." His words come out confident, a sureness that makes your pussy clench in anticipation, and you're rewarded with a roll of his hips as he continues to talk. "And you're gonna cum on my cock twice before we have the dinner you've made, okay?"

You're pinned to the kitchen table, his jeans rubbing against the back of your thighs, and your panties are soaked, sticking to your folds as you nod your head quietly. You can hear him huff a little laugh, smug, and his hands tighten around your wrists as he flips your dress up, dragging your panties down just enough to give him access to your pretty cunt.

You expect him to be rough, to take you right then and there, but instead, he's much worse. He's a tease.

His thick fingers find your clit with ease, and your arousal drips down his digits as he strokes your nub with light touches. His denim jeans are tight over his wide thighs, and they are keeping you in place as he teases your cunt with slow caresses. He winds you up with knowing accuracy, rubbing sloppy hearts into your clit until your cunt is all but weeping slick down your trembling thighs.

The room fills with the wet sounds of your cunt, and your breathy moans, and Jihoon lets out a sigh like this was exactly what he needed. His eyes can't stop staring at your quivering pussy, the way your hole flutters as he plays with you, dragging his fingers through your dripping folds, teasing your entrance before going back to your pulsing clit like he knows you could cum from just this.

And you could; he's had you do it before, stroking your clit until you were throbbing around nothing, begging for his cock before you orgasmed with a cry of his name.

Tonight, he's too tense to have that happen again, and just as your hips are tilting back, pressing back onto his fingers with a wiggle that says you're about to cum - he stops. With one hand, he unbuckles his belt, shoving his jeans sloppily down to his thighs, before he grabs your ass with a heavy hand. His cock aligns with your entrance perfectly, and the fat, blunt head of his cock is dark and leaking with his precum, coating your pussy and making your head spin with lust. You're just about ready to beg for him to move when he pushes his hips forward, sheathing his cock inside you in one full thrust.

Normally, your husband has you cumming on his fingers and mouth a few times before he gives you his cock, but tonight, he takes you like you're his personal cock sleeve. He holds your wrists in one hand behind your back and your hip in the other as he drags his heavy cock through your gummy walls, pushing out loud moans from your glossy lips each time he fills you to the hilt.

The table digs into your hips as his balls smack into your clit with little 'plap, plap, plaps', adding to your pleasure as he uses you hard and fast. You can only tilt your hips up to take each thrust with a whimper, your pussy slurping his cock deeper with each clap of his hips meeting your ass. The orgasm that builds in your stomach develops hotter with each stroke he gives, and you're rendered to a babbling mess as your pussy slobbers his cock with another wave of your slick. "Oh! Yes, yes, just like that!"

You barely hear your husband scoff, a smug smirk dawning on his face as he hooks your knee up onto the table. The new angle has him plugging his cock deeper into you, and your tongue lolls lewdly in response. "Just like that?" He croons condescendingly. "Yeah, you like it when I fuck my frustration out on you? Hah, look at you - you're soaking me."

Your legs tremble, and his thrusts pick up pace, bringing drool to the corner of your mouth as he reaches under you to find your puffy clit. He rubs the pretty nub with quick and mean circles, and you're unable to warn him fast enough before something snaps inside you. Your orgasm bursts like the wail you let out, and your cunt spasms into a vice grip around his cock, pulsing in tremors that make Jihoon's hips stutter.

"That's it, let it all out for me, Baby." He praises, and your pussy quivers as he keeps rubbing your clit, his thrusts growing harder as he changes his pace to fuck you deep and slow. He makes you feel every inch plunge through your gushing channel, until you're realizing just how much of a mess you've made. You can feel your cum drip down your thighs, and your cheeks flush as your second orgasm builds quicker than the first.

"Ji-Jihoon! It's too - ngh - too much! M'gonna - oh fuck, fuck," Your moan turns into a squeal as your body locks up; you've barely stopped the trembling in your thighs before you're gushing for the second time. Your stomach tightens, your pussy clamps down on his thick cock, and your vision darkens as he smacks your clit with his wet fingers.

You think you forget how to breathe, because one moment your vision blackens, and the next you're gasping for air as Jihoon curses behind you. "Fuck, you're perfect." You can hear his teeth grinding together, and your pussy is still milking his cock through your orgasm when you feel his cock swelling as he cums. Every inch of his shaft rubs your sensitive walls deliciously, and you can feel every spurt of his cock filling your cunt with his cum as he groans loudly behind you.

His hips grind into your ass, his cock painting your pussy white, and it's then that he finally lets go of your wrists. You feel your arms drop to your sides while he rubs his hands down your back, keeping you stuffed with his cock and cum as he praises you. "You did so good for me, my love; you made such a mess- even squirted for me." He sighs blissfully, and your cunt squeezes his cock instinctively at his words.

You're pretty sure your pasta was cold now, but you couldn't care less; you felt warm and satisfied as your husband rubbed your hips and back with deep circles, praising you with more compliments as you lay boneless over the kitchen table.

There are only a few days Jihoon takes off from working his farm. If he had it his way, he'd work even on his birthday, but you'd never allow that. You always claimed that the ranch could handle one day without him, and one small finger from you pointed at his chest with a determined glint in your eye had him shutting up any protest as he hung up his hat for the night, following you to bed as you slowly led the way with an enticing sway of your hips.

But old habits die hard, and Woozi wakes before the sun does. His eyes flutter open, and the first thing he notices is that your soft body is tucked into his as your leg drapes over his hip. It's quiet, the stillness before the dawn, and your little sleepy noises that you huff into his neck make his heart warm all over. It was always hard to leave you in the mornings, even when his body moved on autopilot.

Mornings were definitely not in his favor; his eyes could barely stay open as his hair jutted out every which way, and the only balm he gave himself was by making a strong cup of coffee to start his day. As the coffee dripped into the pot, he grabbed two mugs out of habit, one for himself and the other chosen specifically for you. Today, he chooses a pink one dotted with tiny red hearts all over it just for you.

When the coffee is done, the sky has barely changed color; it's still dark, but the first glimpses of it lightening up are seen just behind the mountains to the East, and he takes his cup of coffee onto the back porch.

Your porch wraps around the entirety of the Big House, but Woozi likes to stay on the back half, looking over all the land he worked hard to maintain. Two of the red barns are back here, and the chicken coop is around the corner, so as everyone sleeps, he sighs and leans his hip into the porch railing as he finally takes his first sip of coffee for the day.

He drinks his coffee mostly black; the bitterness shoots through his veins, waking him up faster, and his brows pinch as it warms his body over the cold morning air. Usually, if he were working, he'd drink his first cup of coffee just like this. He'd take the brief moment of quiet before grabbing his second cup to go as he headed out to check up on all the animals. He only allowed himself two cups of coffee; otherwise, his body would get too jittery, his brain would drift, and the urge to "fuck all" and find his wife would be too unbearable to resist. Essentially, nothing would get done but you, so he had to have some restraint as he would call your two dogs to follow him on his heels.

But none of that matters today, though; it's his birthday, his wife was naked in his bed upstairs, and when he finished his first cup of coffee, he planned to celebrate with his head between your thighs, waking you up with the warmth of his tongue to start your day off right.

The thought alone makes him smirk to himself, his cock growing in his jeans as he daydreams, and he's so lost in his own world he doesn't hear you until you're setting your pink mug of coffee right next to his on the porch railing.

"I woke up alone."

Your statement comes out quietly, calmly, and his dark eyes shift to the right, widening when he sees you standing there still as naked as he had left you. "Baby, it's cold out here-" His body fully twists in your direction now, and his eyes can't help but dip and follow the curves and lines of his pretty wife as you give him a knowing grin.

"-then warm me up, cowboy. Make up for the fact you weren't in my bed this morning." Your little nickname was always an inside joke between you two, something you called him just to rile him up, and his plans to take you on the bed fly out the window entirely. A grin tugged onto the edge of his lips, matching your own, and his hands grabbed your waist so fast that you let out an involuntary yelp as he pulled you into him.

Your cold skin hummed with renewed heat as his hands rubbed down your back, and your moan got swallowed by his lips when he kissed you like there wasn't enough time in the world. He could feel your perky nipples against his chest, the goosebumps that ran down your arms, and the smile you two shared as he licked over your bottom lip before pulling back. "What are the magical words?" He teased low and deep, the morning raspiness in his tone making your thighs squeeze together in anticipation as his hardening cock pressed against your hip.

It was unfair how easily he could make your head clouded with lust, and your nails lightly scratched down his sides to provoke a little inhale from him as you watched his pupils blow wide with hunger. You leaned up, brushing your lips over his, and smiled at the tingling you felt all the way down to your toes. "Happy birthday, my love."

Jihoon groaned, and you laughed as you two were brought down onto the floor by him. He didn't bother even making it inside with you as his body covered yours, right there on the back porch, and his hips slotted between your legs as he squeezed your ass playfully. His head dipped down, and his teeth nipped the curve of your neck, bringing another round of giggles from you as he spoke into your ear with an affectionate scoff. "I was looking for, please, Darling, not some cheesy happy birthday." He huffed, and an adoring pinch to your side made your hips buck up into his.

Your pussy slid up his jean-covered bulge, and both of you groaned as his own body reacted to yours instinctively. Every time your hips rolled, his hips responded, grinding into your exposed cunt, dragging the seam of his jeans over your pretty clit until your arousal seeped onto the front of his jeans with a darkening wet patch.

You were so pretty, lying underneath him, dry humping him out in the open, and he knew he was going to take you right here in the cold early morning, but before Woozi could pin you down, your knees pressed into his hips, and your body used his weight to roll you two around until you were on top.

Your weight settled back onto his lap as he found himself lying on the creaky wooden floor in surprise, and your hands rested on his chest as your hips swiveled again, grinding over his lap as he held onto your waist with a moan. "Birthday boys don't need a please; they just need to be good and take what they're given." Your husband's head fell back, exposing his neck, and your smile turned a little condescending as you looked down on him. "Now, are you going to let me ride my cowboy, or what?"

Jihoon gave a short, jerky nod in consent, his vision blurring a little as his cock pulsed in need from your words. He barely made out the two coffee mugs still steaming on the railing before you made quick work of his jeans, unbuckling his belt, and sliding his zipper down. He helped you shove his jeans down to the middle of his thighs with his boxers, and you were already soaking wet as you leaned up on your knees to reach back for his hefty cock.

There is no prep, no teasing, just your hand guiding his cock to your entrance, and then your pretty pussy engulfing his shaft inch by mouth-watering inch with such warmth that his tongue slaps the roof of his mouth as his eyes roll back in pleasure.

Your pussy creates a filthy and sticky squelch from the breach of his cock stretching you open, and you can feel every thumping inch of his cock rub deliciously along your gummy walls as his weeping tip reaches places you didn't even know existed as your ass finally meets his hips in one swift swoop. Fuck, this was Jihoon's favorite position for a reason, and it shows when your head falls back and your eyes cross lewdly from the feeling of him stuffing you full.

Each time your hips slam down, driving his cock deeper into your wet heat, dirty "plap, plap, plaps!" resonate in the open air as your skin smacks into his. Your gyrations only got nastier with each twist of your hips, and the feel of his plump cock swiveling around inside you so deliciously had his jaw gritting, his muscles straining, as you rode him like he was a prized bull.

This was heaven, and he says as much as his eyes fixate on your bouncing tits, your face showing him the fucked-out expression he loved seeing you wear when you got cock drunk. One of his hands displays his fingers over your ass, squeezing the soft flesh as his other hand snakes up your curved back, bringing you lower until his lips could wrap around one of your perky nipples.

He sucks with a hard pull, and the new angle has his cock drilling into your sweet spot like a bullseye, making your entire body jolt as he bucks his hips upwards to meet your movements. An adorable "ah!" shrills from your gaping mouth, and your legs burn as every inch of your velvety walls gets massaged by his thickening shaft.

You were being fucked, and your brain lags the information that you weren't in control anymore, even if you were on top. Woozi's hand slips between your two sweaty bodies, his fingers spreading your puffy folds open even more, and you're babbling in desperation as his teeth graze your nipple with a grin. "Wait! Wait- I'm-" Your words slur, and Jihoon can't help but place a mean smack on your clit, splashing your juices across his fingertips as his other hand held your hips in place.

"So gorgeous," Your husband praises, and your cunt drools at the feeling of his cold wedding band on his left hand rubbing against your hot, pulsing clit in beckoning swirls, smoothing the harsh sting he gave your little nub seconds before.

You're not sure if it was the way he used his wedding band against your quivering cunt or the way his cock continued to bruise your g-spot with a mean accuracy, or if it was because he was looking at you like you were the greatest gift on this earth, but your orgasm slams through you suddenly, knocking every last thought from your brain as his lips crash into yours.

You feel your cunt gush all around him, splattering your juices, and his fingers make quick, swift smacks onto your pulsing clit until you're squirting hard, crying into his mouth as his tongue licks over yours with a deep groan.

When you finally pull away, Jihoon is chasing after your lips, and your pussy is still spasming through your orgasm as your slick spreads across his lap every time you fucked yourself down on his hard cock. You can barely see Jihoon's lovesick grin on his face behind your teary eyes, and his voice sounds as wrecked as you feel when he rasps, "Such a messy wife I got, huh? Squirting all over me."

Your pussy clenches wantonly, milking his weeping cock pitifully, and Jihoon's balls tense, his pupils dilating into hearts as you look at him with glossy eyes. You don't have to speak for him to know what you're wanting, and the two of you roll around again until your husband is pushing your knees to your chest, forcing you into a nasty mating press.

Maybe taking the day off for his birthday wasn't that bad after all.

The sun provides a welcoming warmth across your face as you lean back on the peach tree in April. Your chin tilts up, and your eyes close, basking in the sun's rays of spring while the green leaves cover you with partial shade. All the peaches look ripe and juicy, and a few of them are piled to your left on the blanket you're sitting on, and you can't help but think about how the past year has flown by so quickly.

You'd gotten married, built your business up even more, and had fallen for your husband more and more each day that passed. Your lips pull up into a sweet grin as you think about it, and you open your eyes just enough to glance down at your lap.

Jihoon's wearing the same type of flannel he wears almost every day, along with his worn jeans and dusty cowboy boots. The only thing missing is the black cowboy hat that he took off so he could lay his head across your lap. He had placed it by your foot, your legs stretched out over the picnic blanket, and your fingers scratch his scalp in soothing swirls, making his lips part as he exhaled a long, happy sigh.

You two had been sitting here for over an hour now, taking in the cool breeze, the green leaves surrounding the beautiful peaches, and the warmth of the sun. You're pretty sure your husband could fall asleep like this, and the thought brings a giggle that makes him barely crack his eyes open with curiosity. "What's so funny?"

Your head shakes, and his eyebrow quirks as your fingers swirl through his dark hair, combing through the long strands that now reach his shoulders. "Nothing, m'just thinking." Your left hand rests on his chest, and your wedding ring shines as you move your right hand from his head to grab one of the peaches you two picked together earlier.

Jihoon doesn't try to pry any further; instead, he watches as you take a bite of the plump fruit, the juices coating your tongue with sweetness that makes your smile grow until he can't take it any longer and he reaches for you. You've barely swallowed your bite before your husband's leaning up and bringing you down for a slow kiss, curling his tongue over yours to taste the same sweetness you just experienced.

He cups the back of your head as his tongue licks over your mouth, kissing you with a softness he only reserved for you, and your head slowly begins to fill with cotton.

When he pulls back, his forehead leans against yours as you two catch your breath, and his nose nudges yours softly. He's smiling, pulling you into another kiss that makes you melt into him, and the both of you sink onto the blanket under the big peach tree as he mumbles across your lips, "I love you."

He repeats the three words like a mantra, kissing down your neck as his hands worship your body, taking his time to show you how much he means it.

And while your husband makes his way south, sliding your dress up your soft thighs, your smile feels permanent - your love overflowing your heart as you say it back, taking over his chants as he places the first kiss on your inner knee.

"I love you, I love you, I love you."

대박 - you made it to the end!

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Avid liked the idea of dancing, but had no experience with the kind of dancing that Scott had been talking about. To Avid, dancing was about feeling the music, letting your body react to the beats and emotions however it wished. Scott had talked about dancing like it was a language, a form of communication. He had insisted that it was something that Avid could learn, something Scott could teach him, and Avid trusted him enough to at least give it a go.

He hadn't expected it to be so much fun. He was terrible at it, he knew he was, but Scott was a surprisingly kind and patient teacher, and it meant he got to spend more time in Scott's arms, and more time hanging out with Elle, so he really couldn't complain.

Things had been… off, with Scott. It had started when Elle had arrived, and Avid had thought for a moment that might have been jealous or something. But Elle had spoken to him, and they got on well, but Scott was still on edge. There was plenty to stress about, of course. Drift and Shelby being far away from them, Cleo and Pearl too. The lingering presence of the Eternal Darkness that still hummed in the shadows of Avid's mind. Abolish.

Avid felt sick with guilt every time he looked at Abolish. It didn't matter how many times people assured him that it wasn't his fault, that it wasn't really him who had clawed open Abolish's back and left him on the edge of death. And it seemed that Scott was deeply worried about him too. So when Abolish appeared in the room at the end of Avid's latest dance lesson, and Elle goaded Scott into dancing with him, Avid had felt a touch of relief. Because as far as Avid could tell, Scott had been avoiding Abolish, and from what Shelby and Drift had told him of Scott over the last two hundred years, nothing good tended to come from Scott avoiding his problems.

He had averted his eyes, on instinct, when Abolish had slowly unbuckled the brace around his torso. It was too much of a reminder, of what had been done to him. What Avid had done. By the time he had dragged his gaze back, Abolish and Scott were in the centre of the room, Scott's hand on Abolish's hip. Elle lowered the needle on the gramophone beside them, and Avid found himself utterly entranced as they began to dance.

Abolish had said he knew how to dance. He had not been lying. He and Scott moved in perfect synchronicity, eyes locked together, floating through the movements that Avid had only just begun to get the hang of. It was like they were a single entity, two halves of a whole, linked by their joined hands and staring eyes.

Avid felt tears welling in his own eyes. At the beauty of it. And in agony. Because he could see Scott's face with perfect clarity, and it was like he could feel the swelling emotions in his chest. (It would still be some time before he would realise that he could feel them, before they would understand the depth of their bond). Scott had been avoiding Abolish. Avid had thought it might have been out of guilt, or fear, or something like that. But as Avid watched Scott leading Abolish about the room, watched the way his crimson eyes glimmered with something deep and aching, he knew it was out of shame.

Avid had very few memories, from his time possessed. But he sometimes found small images, brief moments, would flicker in the back of his mind, half remembered. Drift's voice, reading aloud from a book. Shelby anxiously twisting her hair between her fingers as she looked at him. Scott, collapsed against Abolish's shoulder, weeping.

How long had Scott been falling for Abolish?

It hadn't been that long, since Scott had finally held Avid's face and told him that he loved him, had put words to the feelings they had shared with each other. And now Avid was going to lose him. Because Scott was looking at Abolish like there was no one else in the room. And Avid knew there was no world where he could compete with a man like Abolish. He was everything Avid wasn't. Competent, in control, an incredibly skilled fighter. Why wouldn't Scott fall for him?

He felt a hand twist into his own and squeeze, hard. His eyes flicked to Elle, who was looking back at him with a soft, caring expression.

"It's going to be okay, Avid," she whispered, barely audible over the music. "Trust me."

He trusted Elle more than anyone. Trusted her more than he trusted himself. She had been smiling, when she had told Scott to dance with Abolish. He knew that expression. That was the way she smiled when she had a plan, when she knew exactly what needed to be done to fix something. She would never do something to hurt him, he knew that. That's why it had hurt so much, when she had lunged at him, Darkness in her eyes. So why was she doing this? Coaxing Scott into Abolish's arms, when she knew how much he meant to Avid?

Trust me, she had said, when she had shown up in the middle of the night after his parents had locked him in the shed without food for days in an attempt to control his episodes. They'd run away together, and she had kept him safe.

Trust me, she had said, when she'd pressed a dagger into his hand and promised to teach him how to use it, so he could fight back the next time someone tried to rob him. He'd never needed to use it, because she had always been there to protect him.

Trust me, she said now, as the man who had told Avid that he loved him danced with the man Avid had nearly killed.

The music swelled, and Scott pulled Abolish close then draped him gracefully into the dip Avid still couldn't master. The room was silent, save for the crackle of the gramophone, and the steady sounds of Abolish’s breathing. Until Elle cleared her throat.

“Notice how Abolish didn’t swoon like a maiden, Avid?” she said pointedly, and the moment shattered.

Despite himself, Avid felt a giggle bubble out of his chest.

“Scott loves my swooning!” Avid said, and tried not to make it sound like he was pleading, begging for it to be true. Scott turned to him with a soft smile, and for a split second, every possible anxiety fell away. How could Avid doubt that smile?

“I love everything you do, darling,” Scott said, and it was so achingly sweet that Avid nearly wept. Scott wouldn't lie to him, he tried to remind himself.

“Really?” Avid prodded, hiding his fear behind another manic giggle.

“Hmm, most things you do, then,” Scott corrected, and Elle laughed.

The others were bantering back and forth, but Avid couldn't quite follow the thread of conversation, until Scott stepped over and wrapped an arm around his waist. Avid melted into the embrace. He said something light and teasing to Avid, and he heard Elle respond.

"You can keep him!" she said, flashing Avid a knowing grin.

"I intend to," Scott said, and Avid grasped onto the words with all the strength he could muster. Scott loved him. He had to believe it.

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"There you are — can you go look in the back for me and see if we have any more Rumi wigs?"

Your coworker doesn't reply, his back turned as he continues to stock the shelves with black paper plates that say BOO! on them. You stare at the back of his head, wondering why he's ignoring you, when you spot that he has his AirPods in. You grab a pack of pumpkin-patterned napkins and chuck it at his head. He jumps as it whacks him with a light thunk. Joshua spins around, eyes wide like a deer in the headlights — when he sees it's just you, he relaxes.

"Oh, it's you," he sighs in relief as he takes the AirPods off and shoves them in his pocket, loose. "I thought I was gonna have to fight some kids again."

"'Fight some kids'?" you ask, raising your brow at him.

"Yesterday there were some teenagers having a full-on duel with the lightsabers in the accessories aisle," he explains, placing the remainder of the plate sets on the shelf. "I asked them to stop — nicely, mind you — but then they just started hitting me."

"And then you fought them?"

"Not physically, obviously. But I did yell at them and I told them their 'drip' was 'chopped, no cap'."

You burst out laughing.

"And what did they have to say to that?" you ask, grinning.

"They called me cringe and then left."

"Sounds about right," you nod. "Anyway, I need Rumi wigs, we ran out again. Can you grab some from the back?"

"I'll check, but I'm pretty sure we're sold out."

"Oh boy," you groan. "That'll go over well with the 400 girls who come in here every hour looking for K-Pop Demon Hunters stuff, I'm sure."

"Godspeed, soldier," he bids you with a salute. You smile; while you were glad to pick up the seasonal job to make some extra cash, working at Spirit Halloween is certainly not your dream career. The whiny children are annoying, their demanding parents are even worse, and everyone else who shops here is apparently hell-bent on making your life difficult by trashing the place every single day. But working with Joshua always makes the shift at least tolerable. He never fails to make you laugh — and you'd be lying if you said you didn't have at least a little bit of a work crush on him.

"You in tomorrow?" you ask as he grabs the supply cart to take back to storage.

"Yup. Picked up Soonyoung's shift so I'm working a double, because I hate myself apparently," he tells you lightheartedly.

"Oh nice," you reply casually, despite feeling excited at the prospect of seeing him all day. "I'm also working extra hours tomorrow."

"Well it's the last Saturday before Halloween, I'm sure it'll be a super chill and uneventful day of work," he remarks with heavy sarcasm.

"Oh, no doubt," you play along. "Suuuper chill and fun."

"See you tomorrow, then," he tells you with a wave as he makes his way to the back of the store. "Have a good night."

"You too!" you reply cheerfully. You don't realize you're staring at him walking away until he looks back over his shoulder. You quickly start shuffling things aimlessly on the shelf, pretending to be busy.

Maybe you have more than a little crush on Joshua Hong after all.

You're nearly falling asleep eating your sandwich when the door to the break room opens abruptly, slamming into the wall behind it. Startled, you lift your head up to see a frazzled Joshua entering the room.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, concerned.

"Do you think they'll fire me if I punch a customer in the face?" he wonders out loud as he marches to the fridge, grabbing his lunch and joining you at the circular table in the middle of the room.

"Yeah probably," you reply. He pulls a plastic container filled with colorful cereal out of his lunchbox, followed by a small glass bottle of milk and a spoon.

"Might be worth it at this point, honestly."

He notices you staring as he pours the milk into his bowl.

"What, a guy can't have cereal for lunch?"

"I mean, sure," you tell him, your mouth twitching into a smile as you try not to giggle. "I've just never seen somebody bring diy Lucky Charms into a workplace before."

"It's Cap'n Crunch, thank you very much," he replies, putting a large spoonful of it in his mouth.

"My mistake," you grin at him.

You sit there in silence for a minute as you both eat, the room quiet and still in a moment of peace from the hectic scene out in the store. The only sounds in the room are the fridge whirring and the chorus of Spooky Scary Skeletons playing over the tinny speaker system.

"I hate this fucking song," you grumble under your breath. Joshua laughs, the sound of his voice hearty and bright in your ears.

"You sure picked a great store to work at, then," he teases.

"I like Halloween!" you insist. "I'm just tired of hearing the same fuckass song over and over again."

"Fair enough," he smiles. "But only one more week of this shit and then we're free."

"Thank god," you sigh with relief, but your heart sinks a little at the realization that you won't be seeing Joshua anymore come November. You realize you don't even have any idea what he does outside of spooky season — you've never asked.

"So, what will you be up to after this horrible place closes for the year?" you ask casually.

"Looking for another job," he says rolling his eyes. "Hopefully not for long. You would think having a degree would make it easier to find employment but alas."

"What's your degree in?"

"Environmental engineering."

You freeze mid-bite of sandwich.

"You're an engineer?!"

"Allegedly." He waves his hand in the air dismissively.

"Joshua that's literally so cool," you tell him, looking at him with bewilderment. "What the hell is an environmental engineer doing working at Spirit Halloween?"

"Job market sucks shit."

"Tell me about it," you agree dully. "I've been trying to get a permanent position for ages but apparently that's impossible."

"What do you do?" He looks at you with genuine interest — his focus on you is nothing more than friendly, but it's still making you feel a bit giddy inside.

"Oh, I'm a set designer. I work freelance for different television production studios. Also a pretty bleak job market these days," you relate with a glum smile. His eyes widen with intrigue.

"Whoa, that's awesome! I had no idea," he responds enthusiastically. He chuckles, letting out a huff of air. "Look at us — two intelligent adults with interesting careers and yet here we are, selling shitty Halloween decorations to get by."

You blush a little. The attention he's paying you is unexpected, but you're not complaining. And you know he didn't mean it like that, but the way he referred to the two of you as "us" makes you want to skip down the sidewalk whilst singing.

"Living the dream," you reply with a smile. "It's nice to have somebody to commiserate with in this hellhole of a store."

"Me too," he says, the corners of his crinkling softly as he smiles back at you. The flush in your cheeks starts to grow warmer; you pack up your things in your lunchbox and quickly rise from your chair.

"Well, guess I'd better get back out there before I get yelled at," you say, excusing yourself.

"What are you doing after work?"

You pause, turning back around to look at Joshua.

"Like, today?"

"Yeah," he nods.

"Nothing, why?"

"Wanna grab a drink?"

"Oh!" you reply, your face lighting up. "Yeah, um, that sounds great actually," you smile at him. "Though I might need more than one drink by the end of this shift."

"Oh, definitely," he agrees. "Awesome, well, good luck out there."

"You too. Try not to punch anyone."

He grins at you. "No guarantees, but I'll try."

You exit the break room, in such a good mood now that your manager gives you a confused look as you pass by, unused to seeing you so chipper. She nearly is about to question you, but instead she shrugs and returns to her task.

"Excuse me," a voice from behind you calls. You turn to see a customer approaching.

"Hi! How can I help you?"

"I'm looking for the 12-foot tall skeleton, do you have any in stock?"

"We don't sell those, unfortunately — that's Home Depot," you inform them cheerfully. "But here, let me show you some of our skeleton animatronics…"

"Do you have any weird talents?"

"Hm?" you ask as you take a sip of your drink. "Like what?"

Joshua sits across from you at the small bar table for two, the neon signs in the window making him glow a bit in the dim lighting. You're only slightly tipsy at this point, but when you get drunk you get flirty — and Joshua looks good as hell right now. It's taking everything in you not to be full-out swooning at him right now.

"I don't know, anything. Like how some people can wiggle their ears, or juggle."

"Oh, hmm… I don't think so," you reply. "Well maybe — I can solve a Rubik's cube, does that count?"

"Yeah! Stuff like that."

"I can also cry on command."

"Oh! That seems useful," he remarks sincerely.

You nod. "I used it to get out of a speeding ticket once."

"I didn't realize I was in the presence of a criminal mastermind," he grins at you.

"Yeah, I'm actually robbing a bank next weekend," you tell him with a straight face. "Wanna join?"

"Absolutely," he nods, playing along.

"Excellent. Well, how about you? What are your weird talents?"

"Let's see," he thinks. "I can walk in a handstand, do the worm, play the harmonica, I know a few card tricks… Oh! And I can do this."

He clasps his hands, squeezing his palms together repeatedly to make a fart noise.

You stare at him, giving him a confused look.

"Um, I don't know if I'd call that a talent…"

"Sure it is," he says matter-of-factly, looking at you excitedly as he continues to make the sound with his hands.

"Okay, okay, you're very talented," you concede with a hesitant laugh, grabbing his hands and shoving them back down onto the table. "But maybe don't do that in public."

He gives you a cheeky grin. "What, am I embarrassing you?" he teases.

"Only a little," you tease back.

He gazes at you for a moment, eyes filled with adoration and lips curved into a soft smile. Your stomach does a backflip as it hits you: he's definitely into you.

"Another drink might help with that," he tells you. "If you'd like."

"I would like," you nod eagerly.

"Another Dirty Shirley?" he asks as he hops off the tall chair.

"Surprise me."

Joshua returns a few minutes later with two Long Island iced teas.

"Oh my god," you groan. With a laugh you bury your face in your hand. "Immediately regretting that decision."

"I can get you something else-"

"No, this is good. I just think you might be crazy."

Joshua gasps dramatically, pretending to clutch his non-existent pearls.

"Crazy?? What nonsense!" he says in a British accent, for some reason.

"What, no one's ever told you that?" you jest playfully.

"Never. This is the first I'm hearing of this."

Your head falls back as you let out a hearty laugh.

"Well, you're definitely crazy," you tell him as you pick up your drink. "But I like it."

He grabs his drink as well, clinking the glass against yours.

"Cheers, I'll drink to that."

It is a moonless night. The trees around you dance in the brisk October wind, the remainder of their leaves rustling about; it isn't a particularly heavy wind, but it is biting — without the warmth of the midday sun, it chills you to your bones. You cross your arms as you stroll down the sidewalk, side by side with Joshua. You assured him he didn't need to walk you home, but he insisted. What if I want to walk you home?, he proposed with a goofy grin, eyelids hanging slightly in his tipsy state. Okay then, you answered giddily. You weren't terribly drunk, but inebriated enough that you couldn't help being so overtly smitten with him.

You've mostly sobered up now, as has he — the frigid air sharpening your senses as clearer thoughts return to your head. As soon as he notices you bracing yourself against the wind, he starts taking off his jacket.

"Here."

"No, it's okay-" you try to tell him, but he's already slinging the thick denim over your shoulders. It's warm — protecting you from the wind, but also from Joshua's body heat. Your heart flutters at the idea of being cocooned in his essence.

"Better?" he asks.

"Much better," you respond as you wrap yourself snugly with the garment. "Thank you."

"Of course," he smiles at you.

You chat with Joshua for the final few minutes of your walk, talking about nothing in particular but anything that comes to mind. It's comfortable, easy — you wish the night didn't have to end.

"This is it," you announce as you reach your building. You stop outside the entrance, turning to face Joshua; you find him standing much closer to you than you expected.

"Thank you," you tell him as you shrug the jacket off and hand it back to him. "For the jacket and for walking me home."

"Anytime," he says warmly, putting his coat back on. "Thanks for coming out with me tonight, I had a great time."

"Me too," you beam at him.

"This might be a little forward, and you can say no, but…" Your gaze meets his, waiting with anticipation to hear the words fall from his lips. He brushes your cold cheek with his warm hand. "Can I kiss you?"

A huge grin washes over your face.

"Absolutely."

Your heart pounds as he gently takes your chin, tilting your face to greet his as he leans in. Your eyes drift closed as your lips collide with his — they're plush, soft; he savors the taste of you as he kisses you unhurriedly. He rests his hand on your arm, holding your bicep in his grasp as his mouth presses tenderly against yours. When your lips finally part, you open your eyes again; they meet his, finding softness in his dark irises as he gazes sweetly at you.

"Let me give you my phone number," he says to you.

"Oh yeah," you smile. You pull out your phone and swapping devices with him, adding yourself to his contacts as he does the same for you. He hands you your phone back and you tuck it into your pocket.

"See you again soon?" he asks.

You giggle. "I mean yeah, we do work together, after all."

"Outside of work, I mean," he smiles, stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets.

"Definitely," you agree with a nod.

"Good."

He leans in and gives you a quick peck on your cheek.

"Goodnight," he tells you softly. He walks off with a few backwards steps, so he can look at you for just a bit longer.

You open the door to your building, a rush of warm air hitting your grateful freezing body. You give him a wave.

"Goodnight," you say back. He smiles at you, then disappears into the dark night.

You wake up slowly the next morning, laying in bed half asleep for a few minutes, until you suddenly recall the events of last night. You bolt upright and immediately reach for your phone, anxiously hoping you find a text from Joshua, to make sure it wasn't all a dream. Sure enough, at the top of your notifications: Joshua Hong, 1 Unread Message.

Joshua: good morning :)

You send him a message back right away.

you: hi! good morning!

The typing bubble pops up moments after you send the text — he replies right away.

Joshua: what are you up to today? you: working, unfortunately 🙄 but at least i don't have to close tonight. hbu? Joshua: visiting my parents today! i hope your shift doesn't suck too much 🥲 you: i'm sure it will haha. it's always much better when you're around. Joshua: don't worry, i'll be there in SPIRIT 😏 you: bye 💀💀💀 Joshua: nooo don't go, i promise all of my jokes aren't that bad Joshua: just most of them you: you're a dork Joshua: thank you Joshua: i gotta head out now, but have a good day! tell everyone i don't miss them you: lmaooo u got it 🫡 enjoy your day! Joshua: oh and btw, just wanted to share one of my favorite songs. it reminds me of you :)

You click the Spotify link he sent. The app opens, playing a familiar tune.

"Sunday Morning rain is falling…"

You let the song play as you start to get ready for the day. Every time you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror, you notice the smile that seems to be permanently etched into your face today.

Finally, the day is here: Friday, October 31. You're so close to the end of this terrible no-good job — you just have to make it through your last shift.

Joshua is also scheduled to work — it's all hands on deck for the last-minute rush before trick-or-treat time. Unfortunately the chaos means you barely get to speak a word to him that isn't about candy buckets or Ghostface masks. You've been talking non-stop all week — you worked together a few times, but otherwise your schedules didn't really line up, so you haven't gotten to really hang out with him since the bar on Saturday. But you're determined to fix that as soon as possible.

You manage to catch him in the break room for approximately one minute. You were only running in to grab some ibuprofen from your bag, to remedy the headache you have due to working retail on a holiday. Joshua is on his lunch break, eating a bowl of oatmeal.

"What, no Cap'n Crunch today?" you tease as you breeze past him toward the staff lockers.

"It's too cold out for cold cereal," he tells you pragmatically.

"So you brought hot cereal."

"Exactly."

There is an additional employee lingering in the break room; you pretend to rummage through your bag, hoping they leave so you can actually talk to Joshua. By some miracle they make their exit right away — you seize the opportunity before someone else walks in.

"What are you doing tonight?"

"Absolutely nothing," he says happily. "I've had enough of Halloween this year."

"Come over."

He looks up from his oatmeal, turning around to look at you.

"Really?" he asks eagerly.

"Yes, really. Come hang out at my place and we can celebrate this fucking holiday being over."

His eyes brighten, a grin spreading across his face. "Okay!" he responds enthusiastically. "That sounds great."

The door squeaks as it suddenly swings open. One of the managers walks in; you quickly put your bag away and head back into the store. You turn your head as you walk out the door. The manager's back is turned, so you mouth see you later to Joshua. He winks back at you, making your heart flutter. Immediately upon your return to the floor you are swamped with customers asking you stupid questions. Sighing to yourself, you plaster on a smile and answer in your best customer service voice.

The end of the shift simply can't come fast enough.

As soon as Spirit Halloween closes for the night and season, you book it the fuck out of there. You head home, flopping on the couch first thing, laying there silently in the dark for a good 30 minutes as you recover. Once you've recharged, you get up and start tidying up your place. It's not dirty by any means, but you want it to look extra nice. You shoot Joshua a text, telling him to come over whenever. He replies right away: be there at 8 :)

At 7:59pm, you hear a knock at your door. You flit over, looking through the peephole to make sure it's Joshua and not a serial killer — or worse, trick-or-treaters. You see Joshua, but he's dressed strangely. You open the door to see him standing there in a vampire cape — one of the cheap black and red ones you sold at the store. He smiles, revealing a pair of glow-in-the-dark fangs on his teeth.

"What on earth are you wearing??" you ask incredulously.

"What are you thalking about?" he asks, the plastic fangs causing him speak with a lisp. "This is jutht my outfith."

"Oh my god," you groan, rolling your eyes. You turn around and head back inside, but you don't hear him following you. You look back to see him still standing in the doorway.

"Are you gonna stand there all night?"

"I'm a fampire. You have tho invite me in."

You stare at him. "Joshua I am not doing that."

"Ith's the rules."

"Jesus fucking Christ," you laugh, but he sets down a slim brown paper bag he was apparently holding under his arm onto the floor. He then swoops the cape dramatically and runs off. You stand there, baffled. The door to the stairwell down the hallway opens with a creak, then shuts. You peek out into the hall, but Joshua is gone.

"What the fuck," you mutter to yourself. Assuming he's just pranking you, you wait for him to turn around and come right back, but he doesn't. Confused, you pick up the brown wine bag and bring it inside, setting it on the counter as you locate your phone and text Joshua.

you: ????

About a minute passes, no reply. You start to wonder if you just got stood up in the weirdest way possible when you hear a rap at the door again. You open it to see Joshua, again, this time dressed in a low-budget pirate costume — complete with hat, eyepatch, and scraggly fake beard.

"Arrr!" he shouts, waving a flimsy foam sword in your face. "I've come for yer booty!"

"Oh my GOD will you just get inside??" you beg, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him through the doorway before somebody sees him acting a fool.

"You're insane," you tell him as you shut your front door. He gives you a big shit-eating grin, clearly pleased with himself.

"I thought you said you liked that I was crazy?"

"I do, but you're clearly just trying to embarrass me on purpose," you reply, also grinning. He may be an idiot, but you can't actually be mad at him.

"It's because I like you," he says, following you into the kitchen. He backs you into the counter, spinning you around as he rests his palms on the granite surface. He towers over you as he leans in, the sudden closeness makes you flustered. He puckers his lips, going in to give you a kiss, but you stop him, grabbing the foam sword out of his hand and bopping him on the head with it.

"Hey!"

"You can kiss me, but for the love of god please get rid of the beard first."

"Okay, okay, fair enough," he concedes, tossing the pirate hat aside and pulling the eyepatch and beard off his face. You take the opportunity to reach for the brown bag, finding a bottle of red wine inside.

"Wow, this looks nice," you remark as you open a drawer, retrieving your bottle opener.

"I didn't know what you liked, so I asked the guy at the wine shop to give me the finest wine he had, as long as it was under $30."

You laugh, popping the cork out and pouring each of you a glass. "What, you mean working at Spirit didn't leave you rolling in cash?"

"Shockingly, no," he replies. You hand him a glass, raising yours to his with a clink as they touch.

"Well luckily for us I am able to afford Netflix, thanks to my friend forgetting to log out of her account on my tv and me using it secretly for free," you tell him. "Care for a scary movie?"

"Sounds perfect," he beams at you. You take his free hand and head into the living room together. He takes a seat on your couch, you joining him, squeezing in close right next to him; you lean your head against his shoulder as you turn on the tv and start scrolling through Netflix.

"Anything in particular you wanna watch?" you ask.

"Whatever you'd like," he answers. He rests his spare hand atop your thigh, rubbing you gently with his thumb. You're a little too distracted right now to think of a movie, so you click on the first one you see. It's one you've never heard of, but you're not terribly interested in actually watching a movie right now anyway — not when you have Joshua so very close to you.

You make it about four minutes into the movie when he takes your wine glass, setting both his and yours down on the coffee table. He wraps his arms around you, drawing you in close, leaning his face into yours so your noses touch.

"Now can I kiss you?" he asks softly. The way that he gazes at you tells you he is interested in doing much more than just kissing — but it's a great place to start.

"Please," you whisper back.

His lips press into yours, bringing you back to the sensation you've been dreaming about since you did it once a week ago. Your hand rests on his chest; you can feel his heartbeat thumping, its pace accelerating the longer he kisses you — and he doesn't have any plans to stop anytime soon. Your hands glide around to his back, clinging to him as you squeeze his torso. One of his hands strays, traversing slowly down your side — it rests on the side of your thigh for a few moments, caressing it through your leggings, the intimacy making your skin tingle under his touch. Suddenly he slips his arm underneath your legs, lifting them up and over his own, pulling you onto his lap. You toss your arms around his neck, putting yourself in a position to draw your body in even closer, pressing your chest into his. You feel his mouth twitch into a smile; he reaches for your breast, lightly resting his hand atop it.

"Is this okay?" he asks softly as he ceases kissing you momentarily. His eyes are locked onto yours, gazing at you longingly. You answer by grabbing his hand and squishing it into your boob. A grin spreads across his face — he kisses you again, squeezing your breast eagerly as his mouth grasps hungrily at your lips. Your core starts to ache, heating swelling between your legs at his touch; you press your thighs together in an attempt to quell the sensation — but with Joshua feeling you up relentlessly, it only makes it worse.

You subtly start to grind against his lap as you make out with him, heat rising in the air as your bodies intertwine. Eventually Joshua's lips relocate to your neck, kissing the tender skin delicately as he holds you tight in his arms. You let out a soft, involuntary gasp; it feels incredible — and you desperately want more.

"Joshua…" you plead. He plants a final kiss under your jaw, then raises his face to greet yours again. His expression is drunk with lust — and you can only imagine you look the same.

"Yes?" he asks, staring at you with anticipation.

"I want you."

His pupils dilate, eyes widening excitedly.

"I want you too," he whispers, cupping your cheek in his hand. You give him another kiss, then slide your legs off his lap, hopping to your feet as you take his hands in yours and pull at him excitedly. He rises; you intertwine your fingers with his as you lead him into your bedroom. You fall onto your bed together, rolling around and kissing each other with aching desperation. He rolls on top of you, delightfully crushing you with his body weight as he peppers a series of smooches all over your face, making you giggle. Your thighs instinctively spread, allowing him to lay into you. You hum as he presses against your core, cunt pulsating at his touch; wrapping your arms around him you pull him in even closer, causing him to let out a low groan.

"You're so beautiful," he mutters, pressing more kisses into your cheek. You bask in the delicate attention he's giving you, soft touches causing sharp pangs of desire in your gut.

"Can I go down on you?" he quietly asks in your ear, making the hair on the back of your neck stand up.

"Oh my god, please," you beg. He slips a large hand beneath your sweater, feeling the softness of your stomach, before pushing the garment up in request for its removal. You quickly pull it off and toss it aside, leaving you in your bra. Joshua plants a kiss between your breasts, then starts kissing his way down your body. You feel his fingers slip underneath your waistband, tugging down gently; you lift your hips, allowing him to remove your leggings. He slides them down to your ankles, pulling them off with a snap as the elastic slips over your feet. He drops them to the floor and hurriedly pulls your underwear off, yanking them with such vigor that they practically go flying across the room. He then grabs the underside of your thighs, folding you in half as he situates himself between your legs.

"Are you comfy?" he asks gently, sending a chill up your spine as he slowly drags one finger over your slit. You nod eagerly. "Good," he replies, smiling as he lowers his lips onto your clit, giving it the most gentle of kisses. He circles the tip of his tongue delicately around the excited bud a few times, making you hum with pleasure. It drifts down to your hole, finding slick wetness as he presses his tongue into your entrance. You gasp softly, your body reacting to the sensation; he pushes down on the backs of your thighs, holding you in place as he gets to work. His nose bumps into your clit as he works his tongue inside you, making you moan as he dives in. He drags his tongue lazily up and down your folds, tasting every last bit of you.

"God, your pussy is incredible," he groans into your cunt. Making his way back to your clit he suddenly latches on — crying out, you run your fingers through his hair, holding on as he starts to suck on it, the light and quick pulses of his mouth making your head spin. You look down to watch him, his face and nose glistening with your juices as he works at your clit.

"Want your fingers in me," you tell him breathily. He grins, continuing sucking as he glides his middle finger inside you, working it in and out of your hole. It feels incredible, but you instantly crave more.

"One more," you plead. He adds his index finger, stretching you as he flicks his tongue over your throbbing bud. You feel your body tense, breathing heavily as you feel your orgasm coming on.

"I'm really close," you tell him as your eyes begin to flicker back. "Don't stop."

And he doesn't. Sucking on you relentlessly as he fucks you with his fingers, the heat swelling in your core suddenly explodes. You cum, grinding your hips into his mouth as you tighten your grasp on his hair. Despite you practically shoving his face into your cunt, he keeps his pace; you ride the waves of your high, savoring every moment of it before you eventually start to come down. He slows, releasing his hold on your clit in favor of kissing it softly.

"That was fucking incredible," you mumble, winded. You let go of his hair, arms flopping to your sides as you relax into the mattress. He gives your cunt a final kiss before lifting himself up, crawling back on top of you. He's hard now — his erection glaringly obvious in his jeans. You reach for the bulge, kneading it gently in your hand, making him groan.

"Please fuck me," you beg immediately — no time to waste when you're both this horny. He smiles, eyelids heavy as he gazes hungrily at you.

"Say less," he replies. In a flash he stands up, retrieving a small shiny packet from his pocket.

"I see you came prepared," you giggle breathily, still recovering from your orgasm. Joshua smiles.

"I wasn't sure, but... I had a feeling."

He holds it with his teeth while he disrobes, his stiffened dick standing tall in the air as he shimmies out of his clothes. You grin, excitement tingling in your core at the sight of the thick and veiny cock — and the prospect of it being inside you. Ripping the packet open he quickly wraps the condom over his length, jerking himself a few times once it's in place. He crawls back on top of you, slipping his hand underneath your back, lifting you up so he can undo the clasp of your bra. You remove it, both of you now fully nude. He presses his body into yours, his heat radiating to your skin; his tip bumps against your entrance, making his cock twitch. He grabs ahold of it, guiding the head up and down over your pussy a few times.

"Ready?" he asks, his voice gravelly.

"Yeah," you exhale. The way you're laying there beneath him, legs spread and hips bucking softly in anticipation, staring up at him in desperation to be fucked — it is the hottest thing he's ever seen.

"Okay," he whispers. As his large hand wraps around his base he slowly pushes the head inside you; it slips readily into your hole, your walls wavering as he gradually fills you with his length, gripping around his cock so intensely it makes his head spin. With a gentle thrust his entire cock is now inside you, making you gasp.

"Fuck that's a lot of cock," you blurt out. He laughs, face turning pink in slight embarrassment.

"If it's too much I can-"

"Nonono," you cut him off, your hands clinging to his waist as you adjust to his size. "It's perfect."

He grins, the ego boost making his dick throb inside you. He slowly starts to pull his length back out, stopping just before his tip pops out of your entrance, then slowly pushes it all back in. You let out a moan as he reaches deep, stuffing you completely full with his thickness.

"Does that feel good?" he asks, just to be sure he's not overwhelming you — but judging by your soft eyes, furrowed brow, and slightly-parted lips, he's pretty sure he knows the answer.

"Yeah," you moan. He starts fucking you, falling into a steady, rhythmic pace — not taking his eyes off you as he watches you eagerly take his cock.

"Oh my god your pussy is amazing," he groans, increasing his pace. Your eyelids flutter back, whines escaping your lips as Joshua thrusts into you insatiably. He pushes your arms above your head, resting them on the pillow as he pins each of your wrists to the bed with a large, strong hand. You gaze up at him, pathetic and fucked-out, whimpering with each pounding stroke.

"Feels so fucking good, baby," he cries out with abandon, euphoria overtaking him as he reaches orgasm. "Ohhhhh fuck I'm cumming…"

He releases, moans flowing from his open mouth, eyes rolling back into his head as his cock pulsates against your throbbing walls. He cums hard, grunting and groaning as if it's the best orgasm he's ever hard — which quite frankly, it is.

"Oh my goddd," he moans as the tension in his body melts away, thrusts slowing as he gradually comes back to earth. He collapses onto you, releasing his grip on your wrists, his hands sliding up to intertwine his fingers with yours. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, his labored breaths hot on your skin as he recovers.

"That was incredible," he mutters, his low voice in your air giving you an enticing chill. He lifts his head up, gazing down at you lovingly. "You're incredible." Smiling shyly, you kiss him, locking your lips together as you breathe deeply. When your mouths part again, you see a big, goofy grin spread across his face — the same one you saw the night he first kissed you, except now even more enamored.

"What?" you giggle at him.

"Nothing," he replies. "You're just unbelievably beautiful."

"Don't tell me that, I'll fall in love with you," you tell him with a soft laugh. His eyes crinkle as he smiles.

"What if I want you to fall in love with me?"

"Well," you answer, gushing like an idiot. "Then I have good news for you."

His eyes light up. He plants a big kiss on your lips, gently pulling his cock out of you as he does so.

"Wait here," he tells you softly as he gets up. You shiver at the sudden lack of body heat, but he returns quickly with a towel, getting you cleaned up before tucking you under the covers. You grab his hand, tugging at him.

"Get in here."

He joins you under the blankets, wrapping you in his arms as he takes you in as his little spoon. He nestles his face next to yours as he snuggles into you.

"I thought Halloween was going to be ruined for me after this year," you tell him, wrapping your arms around his. "But maybe it's okay after all."

"Well, this is definitely the best Halloween I've ever had," he says contentedly as he kisses your cheek. "All thanks to my sexy pirate costume."

"Despite your stupid pirate costume," you correct. He lets out a laugh.

"What are you doing for Christmas?"

"Hm?" you respond, confused. "You're already thinking about Christmas?"

"I'm thinking about how I'd like to spend it with you."

"Oh," you say softly, smiling excitedly. "I'd like that."

"Me too," he replies. "Maybe if I get lucky you'll let me call you my girlfriend to get my parents off my ass about how single I've been."

"I mean, you can just call me your girlfriend in general."

"Oh! Even better," he responds with a grin, squeezing you in his arms. "I didn't want to move too fast or anything-"

"Eh, who cares," you interject. "I like you. Fuck it."

"You're right," he agrees. "Fuck it!"

"What'd'ya say we go finish that wine and pretend to watch the rest of that movie?" you propose.

"Oh yeah, the movie. What were we watching again?"

"No idea."

"Great," he chuckles. "Fine with me, I don't want to leave yet."

"Don't leave."

You turn around, rolling on top of a surprised-looking Joshua.

"Stay the night. Stay with me."

He beams at you. He didn't want to impose, but he was hoping and praying you would ask.

"I'd love to," he smiles. His soft eyes rest on yours; they are filled with fondness, adoration — much more than you would expect from someone you haven't known very long, but it just feels right. And that's something you very much look forward to getting used to.

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