⋆.˚⋆kei

everything in your gut told you no.

your phone buzzed on the couch next to you, the sound dampened by the cushions but still loud enough for you to hear. the screen lit up obnoxiously with a green and red button over his contact photo, zoomed in to fill the whole space.

jiung ✴︎ is calling...

the scoff that left your lips was involuntary but not unsound. the nerve of this guy, you thought, flipping your phone over in the dark room if only to dim the light. your friday evening had began with the stuff of dreams: a face mask, comfy pants, and seven unwatched seasons of a show you started watching three or four years ago and had forgotten all about. you couldnt even remember what had happened last and had to pull up the plot summary on the series wiki. after a few episodes, you started to put the pieces back together yourself. and you even remembered why you stopped watching it.

it only barely cramped your mood to have to find something else to watch. there were hundreds of classic films you'd yet to see, reboots of series you'd loved as a preteen, and a whole playlist of video essays on your youtube. surely, you could have found something. maybe your evening would have ended with wizard of oz nostalgia or been consumed by documentaries on cruises.

instead, you sat on the couch watching your phone screen light up with text after text, incessant notifications.

[12:47 am] jiung ✴︎: r u sleepign

[12:47 am] jiung ✴︎: am drunk

[12:48 am] jiung ✴︎: one hundrd beers

[12:50 am] jiung ✴︎: can u pikc me up

again, everything in your gut told you no.

everything in your heart told you yes.

your face mask was peeling up on the edges, long dried and honestly doing nothing for you, so you discarded it and every fiber of your being that told you to stay put and dragged yourself to your car.

of course, you still have his location. deleting it would have been too logical. it would have only made sense. for future reference, you note: you should delete your ex's location and photos. and their contact, too. and probably block them while youre at it. otherwise, you'll end up parking in the street outside of their favorite bar and waiting in your pajama pants.

it started raining while you drove in circles around the building, looking for an open parking spot. small drops sprinkled on your windshield, not even enough to need the wipers until you finally put the car in park. the drops, now, fall in heavy clusters. they splatter on the glass and divide into two thick streams, flowing out of view. the street lights are the only source of light besides your phone, which you pull out after a brief minute of deep contemplation.

[1:11 am] you: im outside

a year ago, youd have been in there with him. hed have bought you a drink, and the two of you would have split an order of cold fries. this particular bar has a pool table in the back, and jiung would corral all the balls in their triangle and break them. he would do only that, over and over. you would laugh, and he'd set it up for you and hand you the stick, freshly chalked.

"try it, babe," he would prompt you, adjusting your posture with the stick like you were going to actually play. the two of you would waste an hour minimum like that, one of his hands on your elbow and the other on your waist.

now, you tap your fingers anxiously on the steering wheel. this is the worst idea you've had in a while, even worse than starting that awful show again. you watch the door through the passenger window, obscured by the raindrops sliding down the glass. the light from inside the bar slips through the cracks every time it opens, this time illuminating a familiar figure, washing him in a dark purple light for just a second.

jiung stumbles across the sidewalk, shielding his eyes from the rain with his hand. you feel your heart sink into your stomach, mouth dry. like youve just eaten a spoonful of sand while you waited. he floats to the passenger door, wiping the window with his sleeve and peering in to make sure its really you. you swallow a smile as he pulls the handle and slips into your car, settling in a way thats simply too familiar.

jiung drops his head forward, letting the water run off the tips of his hair and into his lap. the cuff of his sleeve is darker from cleaning your window, his slender fingers just peeking out from beneath the fabric. he takes his glasses off and wipes them with his driest section of his shirt.

"youre gonna catch a cold, dumbass." you mutter as you turn the knob on your console to turn the heat up.

he just tilts his head, looking to you with a blank expression. you can see his cheeks are flushed, the skin beneath his eyes slightly darker. then, he smiles, and it travels all the way to his eyes as he slips his glasses back onto his face. jiung breathes a dry laugh, "hi to you, too."

you hold your hand in front of the vent, angling it toward him. the warm blast glides through his hair, rustling the bits in the front and barely disturbing the ones that are damp. a bead of water trails down the side of his face, over his cheekbone and settling on his chin. he wipes it with the back of his hand.

you finally meet his eyes, furrowing your brows at the sincerity of his smile, now fading at your expression. "do you think this is funny?"

"i meannn," he dips his head down to look at the sky through the windshield, "it wasn't raining when i got here. how was i supposed to know to bring a coat?"

"jiung," you say, and his smile falters, "you know what i meant."

he sighs, leaning his head back on the seat. he smells like beer and laundry. his throat bobs as he gulps, "sorry."

you start the car, and as you begin your drive to his apartment, you can feel his eyes burning into the side of your face. suddenly, youre aware of how tense your jaw is, how every nerve in your body feels like its on fire. you glance at him once by accident as youre checking the side mirror.

"youre pretty when youre mad," jiung mumbles, head still leaned against the seat. his glasses have migrated down the bridge of his nose but he hasnt noticed. "i guess thats why i thought you were always pretty. always mad at me."

"im not mad at you, ji," you admit. you flip your turn signal on, the steady click filling the silence. you cant fight the heat that crawls its way onto your face, only hope that the car is dark enough that jiung cant see it. or that he wont remember it in the morning.

"mad at somethin'," his voice isnt accusatory or sharp, just observant. he lifts his hand, sleeve still damp, and ghosts his finger over your jaw. jiung lingers on the space just in front of your ear, where you can feel the tension accumulate by the second. his touch is gentle. "see it here."

the way you lean into him surprises you, and you pull away slightly to compensate. you sigh, "just worried is all."

jiung drops his hand onto the center console between you, his fingers idly circling the lid of an old water bottle in your cupholder. the rain outside is slowing, the beads of water shrinking. he shrinks, too, into himself. "i like your pants," he says.

you glance down as if youre not painfully aware how casually youre dressed. you might as well still be in your slippers, carrying a candle down the hallway to investigate a bump in the night. instead, youre brought back to board game nights, you and jiung in the same matching pjs writing your guesses for clue on spare napkins. you'd be sitting in the floor, playing spin the bottle- just the two of you in an endless fit of giggles and kisses, his finger slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. now, you clear your throat. you nod to the water bottle in the cupholder, "you can have that if you're thirsty."

"ew," jiung pulls his arm back, holding it close to him. you furrow your brows, casting him a concerned glance as you slow the car. you flip your turn signal again, seeing his apartment complex tower into view. jiung looks at you with a completely serious expression, like he cant believe you're confused. like its obvious. he shakes his head, "its got your germs all on it."

"oh, fuck off," you laugh, picking up the bottle and tossing it into his lap. you let yourself smile, albeit in disbelief. the bottle rolls into the floorboard and jiung's inebriated reflexes leave him scrambling to find it. you hear him giggle as he hunches over to grab the bottle at his feet. you continue over his laughter, "a little late to be worried about my 'germs,' ji."

the car falls silent as you put it in park. jiung's still laughing, now to himself, but hes looking at you. his brown eyes are glazed and barely held open, shielded behind the thin black rims of his glasses. his body is angled in the seat so his shoulders and knees and face are all toward you, and he looks like he wants to say something but doesnt. or wont. you turn yourself the same way, even though everything in your head tells you no. you press your lips into a thin smile, "ready to go?"

jiung lives on the fourth floor, which is fine in almost every circumstance but this one. he could barely walk across the sidewalk to the car when he left the bar, how is he going to make it up three flights of stairs?

with your help, of course.

you open his door for him, hovering your hand around in case he needs (or wants) to hold onto you. the rain has stopped, but the puddles provide another obstacle. between the craters of water and jiungs arm draped deperately over your shoulders, there are so, so many ways this can go wrong. you kick the car door closed behind him as the two of you take synchronized steps to his building.

jiung stumbles a bit, and you snake your arm under his for more support. no other reason. the whole way, hes mumbling things like, "oops! watch your step," as if he's not the one who needs to be watching, and "you know what they say. slippery when wet!"

youve walked like this before, so close that you fit like a puzzle. every date night, every morning coffee run- his arm draped over you, squeezing your shoulder, and his lips pressing a kiss to the top of your head. now his lips are doing a lot less kissing and a lot more mumbling nonsense, to both your dismay and amusement. but his body still fits yours. you slot naturally into the curve of his waist, neck tucked into the gentle bend of his elbow. every step pushes you closer, so much that you cant help but feel disappointed when you reach his floor.

the door to jiungs apartment clicks closed behind you, but he has already abandoned your side to crash, dramatically, onto the couch. jiung lets his knees hit the cushions and flops forward, burying his face in the pillows. you take this time to look around a bit, see how things have changed. and it doesnt take you long to realize that nothing really has.

everything is exactly as you remember. there's not a speck of dust anywhere. a paper box of pastries sits precisely on the counter, picked through until they're too dry to stomach. jiung would put your favorites in the refrigerator to keep them fresh for longer. even the sight of him, sprawled out obliviously on the couch, plucks at a certain, familiar part of your mind. or maybe your heart.

"c'mon," you lightly shake his shoulder, damp fabric growing warm from being pulled taut across his skin. his body temperature always skyrocketed when he would drink, and he got clingy after one sip. you would always end up sweating, too, just from being trapped in his arms for hours at a time. his body barely moves beneath your hand, but he groans reluctantly. he mumbles something into the cushion of his couch. you continue rocking his shoulder, gently, "ji, lets get you to bed, okay?"

the distance from the couch to his bed was much shorter in your head, in your memories. you'd traveled it with your eyes closed, fistfuls of his shirt and hair keeping you steady around corners and down halls. back then, however, jiung was always awake and capable of putting one foot in front of the other. now, hes jelly in your arms, slouching into you and grunting with every heave of your body weight.

"hate me all you want," you mutter between grunts of your own as you push open his bedroom door, "you hate sleeping on the couch."

"can't," is all jiung can muster as you slump him off your side and onto his mattress. his glasses are crooked on his nose. his hair, curled slightly from the rain, splits down the middle to reveal a sliver of his forehead. you resist the urge to push it all back.

he shifts around, eyelids heavy and threatening sleep but doing very little to hide the way he's staring right into you. you hesitantly reach your hand forward, pinching the arm of his glasses between your fingers and folding them up. jiung's gaze follows your face as you lean over and place them on his nightstand, right in front of a framed photograph of the two of you. its a candid, taken on a disposable camera at a party one of his friends threw a couple years ago.

it was a friday night, not too different from the one you were currently spending tucking jiung's drunk ass in. you had been an anxious mess the whole week leading up to the party, stress buying outfits in colors you didn't even like but that the internet told you would make your eyes pop. you'd only been talking to jiung for a couple weeks at that point. he made you laugh, made your heart race, made you feel safe. most notably, he made you nervous. so nervous that you spilled your liquid courage down the front of your new shirt in the middle of the party. and instead of drawing attention to you or laughing it off, he slipped his own t-shirt off and pulled it over your head. the candid photo captured jiung zipping up his coat over his bare chest while you adjusted his loose shirt over your frame. both of you were smiling, only your grin was directed at the camera's sudden flash and jiungs was aimed undeniably toward you.

he notices your throat bob, the way you hesitate to meet his stare. he should have changed the photo a long time ago, or at least just put the frame and all away. you had. your apartment bares no trace of him aside from the stack of $5 bin movies and halves of matching pajama sets. and the homemade clay magnets on the fridge.

it would be so easy to fall back in love with him. you know this, clear as ever, as you place some painkillers and a bottle of water on his nightstand, and jiung grabs your wrist with a soft, warm hand. "i cant hate you," he says, his thumb grazing your skin, "i tried."

you slipped his hand into yours, just like before. a year ago, you would have slid into bed next to him, limbs tangled. you wouldve pressed a kiss to his temple. you wouldve been at the bar with him, hogging the pool table and breaking over and over. instead, all you can do is pull his knuckles to your lips, ghosting a kiss over them.

"i tried, too," you mumble.

within the next half hour, you're back home on your couch. the hem of your pants is still damp, but you dont care, tucking your legs under a blanket. you had set out a clean set of clothes for jiung to put on in the morning, and you wonder if he'll remember any of it after his "hundred beers."

your phone lights up beside you, casting a halo of light onto the ceiling.

The place is empty, save for Jiung who sits at the edge of the ring holding an ice bag to his face and wallowing in his defeat. 

You frown to yourself at the sight of him. You knew this was an important match for him—he’d been training and preparing for it tirelessly. The defeat wouldn’t be easy for him to handle, so the least you can do is be there for him. 

You make your way to the ring, your boots scuffing loud enough against the wooden floors for him to hear but he stays staring at the centre of the ring, as if he was replaying the fight in his mind and wondering just where he went wrong. 

You stop at the edge of the ring. “Tough fight,” you say softly. 

He only gives you a bare thing of a nod as a response. 

Sighing, you pull yourself up and slip inside through the ropes. “Let me,” you say, lowering yourself in front of him and reaching for the ice pack. 

He doesn’t meet your eye, but he relinquishes the pack to you and lets you press it to the bruise on his cheekbone. His hands find your waist instead as you settle yourself to straddle his thighs. 

There’s a cut against his forehead that’s scabbed over and red, his lower lip a little busted, a few bruises here and there along his bare torso. The thin sheen of sweat makes his skin glisten under the dim lights. Like always, your eyes snag on his tattoos as they make their way back up to his face.

He’s already looking at you, expression devoid of any emotion. 

You give him a small smile, brushing back his damp hair with your free hand before curling your fingers into the dark locks and lightly scratching into his scalp. 

“You did good tonight, Ji.”

“I lost.”

You raise your brow at him. “And?”

He tries to look away but you catch him by the chin, turning his gaze back to you. His impassive mirage has given away to frustration. 

“I lost,” he repeats icily. You know the sharp edges of his words aren’t pointed at you. They’re for himself. “I trained for months and I still lost.”

“And that guy has been training for years,” you point out. If anything, logic will reach him better than baseless consolation would. “You’re still new to this Ji. What matters is that you’re still here. Are you going to cry and run away after one loss?”

His jaw ticks, eyes sharpening at you before he lowers his gaze again. 

You shuffle closer, lowering the ice pack to the floor before cradling his jaw in both hands and tilting his gaze back up. 

He leans his head back, dark eyes blinking slowly up at you. You brush your thumb under his eye, leaning in to press a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. 

“You were real impressive up here,” you tell him, changing tactics.

It seems to get to him. He blinks, lips twitching as he tries to hold in his reaction. “You think so?”

“Mhm,” you agree, pecking the uninjured side of his lips. “You looked like a seasoned fighter. All intimidating and… hot.”

You grin when the corner of his lips tick up. His thumbs slip up under your shirt, digging lightly into your skin. 

“Of course you’d get off on me being all beat up and bruised,” he chides lightly, though you can see the growing mischief in his eyes as they trail down to your lips. 

“Can you blame me?” You giggle, letting your palms slide down the warm skin of his body before settling at the waistband of his shorts. “It just makes me wanna take care of you.”

His tongue flicks out to wet his lower lip before he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing with the movement. You follow each shift on him as your hand travels lower, palm pressing down against the growing bulge under his shorts. 

He takes a sharp breath, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before they snap back open. 

“Yeah?” He asks, voice already gruff and affected. His hands tighten on your hips, starry eyes locked like a trance on your lips. 

You tease your thumb over the length of his clothed cock, smiling when you feel it twitching under the minimal sensation. 

“Mhm.” You let your hand settle at his waistband again, fingers brushing lightly over the inked skin. “It’s the least I can do after you worked so hard, no?”

He swallows again, brows furrowing as his hips buck up lightly at the brush over his sensitive skin. 

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Just—Please don’t tease.” He looks up at you with those big brown eyes, desperate for your touch. 

It’s enough to break your resolve. You didn’t plan on teasing in the first place, but there’s no way you could deny those pretty eyes. 

So you slip your hand in and wrap your palm around the heavy, pulsing length of his cock. 

The reaction is immediate. He lets out a groan, head pushing back against the ropes as his eyes squeeze shut. 

“So sensitive, Ji,” you coo, dragging your fist up to collect the moisture at his tip before slicking it down to his base. 

Even just that first drag has his breaths stuttering, jaw clenching tight as his fingers dig harder into your hips. 

“Mm—“ He lets out a broken moan as you start fisting him at a slow pace. His eyes flutter open again to look up at you, eyes bleary with pleasure. “Feels good,” he whispers. 

“Yeah?” You bring your free hand up to card into his hair again, and his eyes flutter as your nails scratch down. “You deserve to feel good,” you tell him. He whimpers softly, gasping when you twist your hand at his tip before picking up the pace. “Especially after how well you did. You did good, didn’t you, Ji?”

His breaths shake, his hips bucking up to meet your fist with a mind of their own. “Y-Yeah,” he whispers hoarsely.

“Yes what?” You ask him and he whines, his cock pulsing under your palm with the threat of release. He won’t last much longer. 

“Yes,” he whimpers, eyes blinking through the tears that gather along his lash line. “I-I did good.”

“That’s right, Ji.” You smile, tightening your fist around him. 

He’s already leaking so much, the steady stream of precum making it easier for you to fist him quicker to completion. 

“So good,” you whisper, drinking in the way his body starts to tense up, the way his eyes roll back, the way his lips part to give way to gasping breaths. “So good, baby. So good for me.”

He comes with a broken moan, body jerking under you as ropes of warm release spill over your moving fist. 

You slow your hand, riding him through his high as you lean forward to press a kiss to his parted lips, giggling at the fucked out look on his face. 

“You did so good, Ji.”

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jeongin darted to the bathroom so quick you were worried he might have shit himself. 

granted, you did just… impose on the man’s personal time. as soon as he opened the door for you, you could tell he’d been in the middle of something, and hadn’t expected for you to show up so soon after he texted that he was free to hang. 

you probably should’ve given the message more than just a few minutes before heading over to his place, but you’ve been bored out of your mind and jeongin was the very first person to text you back. 

jeongin is a good friend. you first met him through your shared class as the quiet, smiley boy who sits at the back of the lecture hall. he even tutored you briefly before you figured out you had the same friends and started spending time with each other more casually. 

you’re no stranger to one-on-one time with jeongin — as your friendship started with him literally tutoring you in the library corner — and you’ve been inside his house briefly when dropping by with other friends before, but you haven’t just… invited yourself over like this.

you’re not offended that he was a bundle of nerves after letting you in, and less so about the fact he suddenly excused himself once you were situated in his room. if he won’t judge you for being so desperate to hang out with anyone, you certainly won’t judge him for being unprepared. 

in the quiet, your gaze sweeps over his bedroom: his band posters, some stray dumbbells, a pile of clothes that were kicked to the corner in a hurry. you drift over to his desk and plop down into his gaming chair. you shake the mouse, surprised when his computer turns on and opens up to his browser, in… incognito mode. riiight. 

jeongin’s one of those people who have a habit of forgetting to close their tabs, so you mindlessly read through the stack. it’s mostly just school stuff with some random youtube videos thrown in there, which is why the interestingly titled google doc goes unnoticed until you read through the tabs a second time. 

girl, you’re my hallucination. 

well alright. call you a bad person but you’re curious. 

you click on it without thinking too much, and you….um, instantly read your own fucking name? 

you’re too shellshocked to read the massive wall of text thoroughly, but you’ve skimmed enough as your eyes frantically dart over the screen to know exactly what this is. 

it’s jeongin’s most sacred thoughts in words, his filthiest desires confessed in a little google doc. and it’s all. about. you.

you’re like the wind: stirring me up and then vanishing without a trace. i beg for you to appear before my eyes, even if it’s just a dream. hurry, hurry. come in and show me. kiss me until i’m breathless. take my lips between your teeth, your tongue into my throat. leave my neck with bruises — from your mouth, or from your hands. hurt me with a smile and i’ll know it’s real. touch me like ... 

“shit!”

you were too engrossed in his homemade erotica novel to hear the door creak open when he stepped in. jeongin’s fussing about behind you, having recognised what you’re knee-deep in reading. he crosses the room hurriedly, intending to shut his pc off by the power button, but he stops just short of the chair in case you might get up and slap him for it. 

you swivel the chair to face the nervous wreck of a boy. “woah. didn’t know you were a freak like that, jeongin.” 

“please, i—” he covers his beet-red face in his hands, sounding like he’s on the verge of tears. “i’m so sorry. i’m disgusting. please, just let me delete it—”

“what? i didn’t say any of that.” you tell him matter-of-factly. that gets him to spread his fingers and peak at you through the gap. “i’m flattered, actually. you have a way with words.” 

jeongin lets out a pained groan, and your lip twitches into a smirk. 

“but, y’know, you could’ve just asked me.” 

“….ask what?” 

you narrow your eyes at him like he’s not understanding the most obvious answer in the world. 

you nod to the computer, the doc still open and bright on the screen. “to give you the real thing? duh.” 

✦⠀

“so, are you gonna do this hands free or..” 

“be quiet.” jeongin murmurs through the hand half-shielding his blushing face. “this is embarrassing.”

his cock seems indifferent: standing upright, pre beading at the tip, skin flushed even redder than his face. 

his other hand grips his thigh, too shy to reach for himself under your heavy stare. this is what he asked for, though. 

after he realised you weren’t playing a cruel trick on him, and that you actually were attracted to him and willing to grant his dirty wishes true… jeongin had insisted he just touch himself in front of you.

it’s what he was doing anyways before you turned up on his doorstep, like, five minutes after he said he was free. 

jeongin’s got chronic boner syndrome whenever he finds himself alone with you. at least back in the library when he’d tutor you, the table could shield everything his body was screaming that it wanted. unfortunately, now he must tug one out before seeing you, or else he’ll pop a rager mid-hangout. 

and that’s what was in fact happening when he lead you into his room and watched you sit on his bed, like he wasn’t picturing bending you over said bed five minutes ago. he then made a quick break for the bathroom, and literally talked his boner down before returning to you. 

after the most humiliating and humbling moment of his life, that brings him to now: pants down and cock up, sitting across from a very beautiful and impatient audience on his bed. 

jeongin knew he’d bust the second your fingers even grazed him. so, instead of making an even bigger fool of himself with his years-long hallway crush turned close friend, this will have to do. 

jeongin watches you sit up a little straighter when his hand moves to grip himself. he winces slightly — he’s already so goddamn hard, even after all his prior efforts in the bathroom to force his boner down. 

he gathers all the slick on his head before sliding his fist down his length, biting his lower lip to muffle the noises threatening to spill. it feels embarrassingly too good with you watching him like this. 

he strokes himself almost lazily before you speak up: “jeongin, stop acting coy with me. show me how you actually like it.” 

damn, busted. 

his hand stills at the base, and he looks like he’s spacing out before you realise he’s actually just staring at your tits. 

you arch a brow. “do you still think i’m going to judge you? now? i won’t.” 

he nods, meek. “…okay.” 

twisting his wrist, jeongin brings his fist back up; coughing on a moan from just how much better it feels with you here. he starts to jerk himself off properly, like how he usually does with your face behind his eyelids. except they’re wide open and your face is right there — your eyes fixed on how he cranks his fist and grips himself like a vice. 

it looks like it must hurt, and it probably would if he was dry, but he’s spilling so much pre over his knuckles that each stroke is punctuated with a loud squelch. not to mention his steady stream of whimpers and whines, the teeth biting a chunk out of his lip doing nothing to deter his body’s urge to let you hear how good he feels. 

a little too good, you realise when his hips start jolting. he’s going to cum. you don’t want this to end so soon. 

“wait,” you say, just speaking out loud without thinking, and jeongin does. his hand completely halts just before his tip, cock throbbing violently between his fingers as he just keeps squeezing. you’re taken aback at how he just sits there, humming needily while waiting for your next word; cock bright red with how he’s strangling it to not cum just yet. 

your lip curls, and you’re curious just how far you can take this. he basically spelled out his kinks for you in that little google doc after all, so you know he’s not about to start complaining. 

“how close?” 

“right there.” he grits out breathlessly. 

you nod, pleased. “good. not yet.” 

his mouth turns to a little pout, and your smile grows even wider. 

“pretty sure i read in writing that you liked this kind of thing.” 

he groans, half from how fucking close he is and half from the embarrassment chipping away at his last shred of dignity. “please stop reminding me.” 

you watch the effect of your words in real time as a fresh drop of pre spills from the tip and catches on his lithe fingers. you lick your lips subconsciously, wanting so badly to taste him — and his cock pulses at your tongue darting over your lips. 

“keep going.” you tell him, and he does. 

his eyes fix on your mouth as he jerks himself off: how your lips part ever so slightly as you watch, your tongue just behind your teeth in a grin. 

his freehand comes down as his eyes flutter shut, using his pointer and middle finger to rub at his tip while imagining it’s your tongue instead — his other hand fucking himself so fast he can’t feel his wrist. 

jeongin’s eyes fly open when he feels the soft pads of your fingers pressed to his tip. his hands stutter, and he can only watch as you replace the fingers on his tip with your own. 

“keep going.” you tell him, and he tries. 

instead of just his two fingers, it’s all of yours rubbing his tip as he jerks the rest of his length off. you even close your hand to rub him with your palm, and that’s nearly his undoing. 

he lets out a loud, helpless noise and you remind him to hold it. if he thought he was going to cry when you confronted him for his stupid ass fanfiction, then he’s sure he might just sob now. 

yet still, he gets out a nod, and every nerve end is on fire as he forces his orgasm down at your command. you even hold your thumb to his frenulum for extra measure, and god fucking damn does it hurt so good. 

the little pleading noises leaving his mouth just spur you on and on. you really are a bad person, because you could do this for hours — getting him on the verge of toppling off the ledge just to pull him back again. 

you gently pry off the hand he’s got wrapped around his length, before replacing it with your own again. you clench your hand to imitate just how tight he was gripping himself, and jeongin keels over with a moan. 

you don’t give him enough time to recover before you bring your fist up, just to slam it back down and repeat the action. you’re moving only half as fast as he was, but it’s got him double fucked up just because it’s you. 

his shaky hands find your legs as your fist fucks him; just gently kneading to keep himself grounded, maybe also to check that you’re real. 

his stomach starts to flex as the hot coil inside him threatens to snap. deliriously, he bucks his hips in time with your hand — moaning out at the softness, the unfamiliar ridges of a hand that isn’t his own. 

you’re just as quick to pull away. jeongin lets out something like a sob, cock bobbing and veins pulsing desperately. 

he’s horny out of his fucking body and brain right now. you’ve really got no idea how deep his attraction for you runs, because all it takes is one glance at your satisfied smirk and his hands are pressing down on your thighs; hips bucking up into thin air, seeking the friction of absolutely anything. and just because you’re right there, it’s enough to have his orgasm slam into him. 

you’re taken aback when the first spurt of cum hits the skin of your legs, just by the fact he came untouched. you catch his cock to jerk him off through it, and jeongin has so much to give. he just keeps on cumming. his head drops to your shoulder as he moans through it, the sheen of sweat from his forehead dampening your shirt. 

he rocks his hips to meet each messy drag of your wrist. he’s heaving at your ear, and you almost think it’s over until the hot liquid shoots out for a second time. your arm burns, but you refuse to stop until he does. 

his cum reduces to just dribbling over your knuckles by the time he’s spent. just to be sure, you rub your thumb over his tip, and jeongin lets out the sexiest sound you’ve ever heard. he weakly tries to pull away from your hand, sensitive beyond belief, and you grant him some mercy when you let go. 

when he finally catches his breath and raises his head from your shoulder, he wipes at his mouth — and you realise it wasn’t just sweat but drool making your shirt wet. 

you giggle. jeongin looks like his eyes are blinking out of sync from just how hard he came. 

“erh, sorry. that was so not sexy.” he grimaces. 

“i beg to differ.” you press a kiss to his nose, and he cracks that dimpled smile you’ve grown to adore. “i’m insanely wet.” 

he huffs out a laugh. “ah, you’re evil. trying to kill me.” 

“that good?” 

“i’ve never came twice in a row like that.” oh, wow. so that’s what that was. “just, uh, give me a minute. i won’t leave you hanging, i promise. i just need to recover before number three…”

you smirk, pouncing on jeongin. he falls back on the bed while you hover on top of him. “what makes you think you’ll cum again?” 

“well… if i touch you i won’t be able to last—”

“—no, i mean what makes you think i’ll let you?” 

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chan’s house is warm with late-summer heat and half-unpacked boxes, the kind of domestic chaos that smells like home but feels a little too staged—like a memory you walked into rather than made. your suitcase is bleeding open by the doorway, and chan is already halfway through trying to haul several boxes upstairs himself, despite your protests and his limp— a pulled hamstring from a gym injury he swears has healed enough for lifting.

“you’re gonna make your leg worse,“ you scold, trailing him with a grimace, still jetlagged but alert enough to clock the way his leg seizes. “don’t hurt yourself more, my god, just give it here—“

“i’m your big brother, not a cardboard cutout. i can lift things.“

“you can be both.”

he huffs a laugh, turns to grin over his shoulder like the last four years were just a blink, not a few continents away. it’s warm, open, a grin you haven’t seen in person since he visited for your third year showcase, his face blurred in memory by tears and fluorescent studio lights. and then—

“don’t let her fool you, hyung. she’s been this annoying forever.”

—that voice. behind you. smug, slick, deeper than you remember it being the last time he made your eye twitch in the living room.

a chill of revulsion rolled down your spine as you turn to the source.

jeongin. of course. but not quite the one you left.

the boy who once tripped over his own feet rushing into your house to catch a gaming tournament with chan is long gone, apparently replaced by… someone taller. broader. unfairly sharp-jawed for a guy who used to have churros stuck in his braces. the hoodie sleeves rolled to his elbows are not helping, nor is the thick glasses that compliment his face shape far too well, or the fact that he has the audacity to wink at you when your eyes drop.

“hello jeongin. always a pleasure,” your voice flat, and making no effort to hide just how much his existence is not always a pleasure.

he mirrors the tone, slow, and infuriating: “hello yourself.”

chan, the poor bastard, is oblivious to the burning glares. “innie called off work to help set you up. because of my hammie, i can’t get be of as much help like i’d like to be.”

“right,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “so generous. must be hard jeongin, crawling out of the sewer to grace us with your presence.”

jeongin smirks, and you feel nauseous. “funny. thought you’d still be halfway across the globe pretending to be a designer.”

“and i thought you’d still have a neck that could hold your head up properly, but here we are.”

chan groans like he’s used to this—which he is. “i’m gonna… go get a drink of water...”

you and jeongin don’t look away from each other. your mouths twitch like you’re both on the edge of a generational crash out. the air thickens with something that wasn’t there when you were both seventeen before you left. something tighter. hotter. matured.

he breaks first, with a glance that drops—and lingers—at your neckline before he stretches his arms behind his head and walks toward the kitchen to chan like he owns the place—which, to be fair, he partially does, “welcome home, princess. try not to trip over your ego on the way to your room.”

you want to throw your shoe at him.

you want to wipe that fucking smile off his face.

you want—

you need to sit down.

later, when the sun is low and chan’s asleep on the couch, you pass the hallway to your room and catch him in the mirror—jeongin, standing in the doorway of his room, arms crossed as he leans on the frame, watching you like he’s been waiting all day for the chance.

“you look… different,” he says lowly.

“so do you,” you shoot back, not slowing. “shame. i liked the version of you that knew how to shut up.”

his laugh is gravel now, cocked behind his teeth. “you liked me?”

“it was pity. don’t get excited.”

you disappear into your room and slam the door shut before he can respond. but something is left to linger.

it starts with doing the dishes.

or rather—what should’ve been doing the dishes.

“i’m not washing something you ate off of with your mouth open.”

“right, because your delicate sensibilities can’t handle a bit of backwash?”

you jab a soapy finger toward his face. “because it’s disgusting, you human garbage disposal.”

jeongin leans back against the sink, drying tea towel in hand, and has the gall to look amused. he’s wearing a threadbare tee, one that sticks too well to his chest and rides too high on his arms—and you hate how much you notice it now that there’s sweat on his neck and water dripping down the grooves of his hands.

“this is exactly why we never got along,” you mutter, trying not to let your gaze catch on the slope of his bicep.

he hums, too casual. “no, we never got along because you’re a brat.”

you turn your head slowly. “you wanna say that again?”

he grins. crooked. wicked. “brat.”

you flick water at him. soap, too. it splatters on his chest. you try not to look at the size. try.

he gasps like you’ve shot him point-blank. “i knew you had violent tendencies.”

“and i knew you were insufferable.”

“yeah?” he steps closer, dish towel slung over his shoulder like this is a war zone and he's thriving in it. his voice drops, goading. “admit it.”

“what, that you’re the most annoying person i’ve ever met?”

he tilts his head. smirks wider. “that you missed me.”

you blink only once. your stare is a mix of shocked, confused, and a little… you won’t admit what.

and then, because you’re composed and level-headed and absolutely not affected by the sudden press of heat behind your ribcage, you take the plate in your hand and put it down into the sink a little too hard.

“you’re delusional.”

he licks his bottom lip slowly. like he’s tasting the way you said it.

you definitely do not stare.

it continues with the couch.

you’re curled up in the corner after dinner, knees hugged to your chest, flipping through chan’s old lyric notebooks for a project that won’t see the light of day. his scrawl is familiar, comforting, and the only reason your heart hasn’t leapt clean out of your throat since that kitchen incident. chan’s sat beside you, playing something mellow on the speakers. your brother, sweet, oblivious idiot that he is, ruffles your hair like you’re twelve again and mutters, “missed this.”

“me too,” you reply.

and then jeongin walks in. his hair is still wet from a shower, his skin pink at the collar of his band shirt. wearing grey sweatpants and an expression that says what, this? i’m just existing.

you immediately sit straighter, as if the feeling of repulsion snatched any relaxation out from your posture. chan doesn’t notice.

“there she is,” jeongin drawls. “learning to read words longer than two syllables, are we?”

you slam the notebook shut. “careful. i know where you sleep.”

“so do i,” he fires back, and your face burns, because the way he says it is loaded, is laced, is—

chan groans. “can you two not flirt while i’m here?”

“we’re not flirting!” you and jeongin exclaim at the same time—though yours sounds horrified, and his sounds far too pleased.

chan sighs like he’s aged fifty years. “you fight like an old married couple.”

“if i were married to him i’d throw myself into traffic,” you say sweetly.

jeongin only laughs. laughs. and then has the nerve to add, “that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”

you hurl a pillow at his head.

he catches it one-handed, and smirks down at you.

your stomach does something unpleasant. you choose not to say a word.

later that night, you brush past each other in the same hallway as earlier.

you, in your sleep shirt, shorts, and socks.

him, with a toothbrush hanging from his mouth, hair damp again, towel around his neck, sweats hung low on his hips. did he shower twice in a few hours?

it should be silent. it should be awkward.

instead—

“you talk too much,” you murmur, going to brush his shoulder as you pass.

he doesn’t move away, doesn’t blink, and doesn’t break eye contact.

“you look too good for someone who ‘hates’ me,” he says, low.

you swallow. “i do hate you.”

one hand still braced on the hallway wall like this is just another battle. like this—like you—don’t set something sharp behind his gaze. he’s too close. too tall. too steady for someone who used to trip over his own feet. the towel slung around his neck still smells faintly of soap and cologne, and his shirt clings just slightly where it’s damp, like your attention was meant to be dragged across his collarbones. like he knew you’d look.

you shouldn’t look.

you do.

he tilts his head, eyes flicking down, and suddenly the air goes tight again, sharp with something not-quite-spoken.

“yeah?” he murmurs, voice just above a whisper, but it sinks its teeth into you. he leans down slightly. “say it like you mean it.”

you blink, slow. stubborn. your heartbeat is in your mouth, your ears, your wrists.

“i hate you,” you say.

and it sounds nothing like hate.

his gaze dips to your mouth.

you don’t move.

you can’t.

not when his hand is brushing down your waist now, not when the heat of his palm settles against the curve of your hip like it’s been there before, in a dream or a memory or something more dangerous. not when you let him. not when you lean in, helplessly, like it’s the most natural thing you’ve ever done.

his nose brushes yours.

“you sure?” he whispers, lips ghosting just shy of yours. “because you’re looking at me like you want to ruin me.”

your fingers curl into his shirt.

“you’ve been ruining everything since i walked through the door,” you breathe.

and then—

then he kisses you.

and it’s awful.

horrible.

searing, breath-stealing, catastrophic.

but so good simultaneously.

you gasp into his mouth and he drinks it down like water, like you’re the thing he’s been parched for, missing deeply, clawing at for four long years and two hundred thousand wanted arguments while you were away. his other hand finds your jaw, thumb tipping your chin up just slightly, guiding you like he already knows what kind of kiss you need. it’s not slow. not sweet. not when his teeth scrape yours, not when his grip tightens, not when your hands snake up to his nape to pull him closer like you’re trying to rewrite every memory of him with this moment alone.

your back hits the wall. he follows.

he groans, soft and low, when your mouth opens for him—and you’re dizzy with it, drunk off his breath, his body, the way he mutters your name like it’s been caught between his teeth for years.

you shouldn’t.

but god—you do.

his hands are on your waist, under your shirt, his knee between your thighs, your breath caught and spilling between kisses that blur into each other like a secret you never meant to say out loud.

you only break for air when he starts laughing—quiet, rasping, full of disbelief.

“still hate me?” he whispers, lips brushing yours.

you try to speak, but the words are caught in your throat behind confliction.

instead of saying something, you grip his shirt collar, pulling him into your bedroom, and closing the door behind you. moonlight carves the floor in silver stripes, cool against the sheets you haven’t slept in yet. his silhouette is in front of you, chest rising like he’s just run a mile—like you’re the finish line.

he exhales, slow.

his voice is rough when he says, “this is… insane.”

you nod.

he takes a step forward anyway, your shins find the edge of your mattress.

his hand finds your waist again, and you don’t stop him.

not when he leans in again, not when his mouth finds yours for the second time tonight—slower this time, deeper, dragging heat from your chest to your knees. your hands curl onto his biceps, fingers aching to grip, to pull, to keep. you kiss like you’ve both waited years for it.

because maybe you have.

once you pull away to breathe, jeongin kisses down your jaw, and tucks his head into your neck. he sucks in a breath through his teeth, as if to savour the moment. to savour what he’s craved for years.

“you drive me crazy,” he breathes, lips suckling the skin next to your throat gently. “you always have.”

you laugh—quiet, disbelieving, a mix of that and a sigh pulled from somewhere in your throat. “you’re such an asshole.”

“yeah.” he kisses your collarbone, hands sliding further up your waist under your shirt, now brushing the band of your bra. “i know.”

“i mean it.”

“i know that too.”

his hands slide all over you, not rushed, not groping—deliberate. like he’s finally gotten permission and he’s memorising the way you feel, every breath and curve and edge of skin. he maps you out like he’ll only get to do this once. if you have your way, it will most certainly not be the only time this happens. your hands feel up his upper back muscles over his thin shirt.

you’re both still mostly clothed. it almost makes it worse. the restraint. the tension still curled beneath your skin like it’s watching. like any moment, one of you might step back and laugh, like it’s still just a joke. like the bickering and insults and i hate yous were anything but armour.

but you don’t laugh.

you just let him touch you as he pleases.

let him press kisses down your neck, over your shoulder, teeth grazing. soft, then sharp. your breath catches when his hands lift the hem of your shirt, fingertips dragging against bare skin. slow, reverent. like this is not just a thing to do—but a thing he wants to do right.

he pulls back only when he has to. only to look at you. and you hate him a little for it—hate the way he looks like he’s seeing you for the first time, even though you’ve been in his life since before he had his second growth spurt.

“you still hate me?” he murmurs.

you nod, lazy and flushed and out of breath. “with my whole heart.”

he smiles like you’ve just said i want you.

and then he kisses you again.

chan can’t know.

not yet at least. you both agree. you have too much to figure out for now.

and if he heard the soft thud of your body falling back onto your mattress between gasps, he doesn’t ask.

and if he noticed jeongin’s not in his own bed by morning—

well.

he doesn’t say a word.

jeongin nods, hoping that he really was wrong. even if a small part of his brain pangs with disappointment. he’s had such a sickeningly strong crush on you, he must be hallucinating you speaking to him in such a way. especially in the middle of this crowded party where any of your friends can overhear. 

“oh. thank you.” he smiles shyly, dimple popping out of his cheek. 

you bite your lip, wishing you could just sink your teeth into the divot instead. 

“you’ve done ginger before, but not like this.” you reach out, twirling a strand of his soft hair between your fingers. jeongin can only stiffen under your featherlight touch. “it’s cute.” 

his adam’s apple bobs in a gulp, and he manages to nod, words beyond him now. maybe seungmin lied when he said that punch had no alcohol, because there’s no way you’re actually looking at him like this right now. like maybe…you want him. he has to be seeing things. 

“you didn’t answer my question though.” you faux pout. 

“er— sorry. what was it?” 

you stifle the wicked grin threatening to split across your face. you’re so sure he already heard you the first time too, now he’s just playing dumb. 

“i asked if the carpet matches the drapes?” you drawl. fluttering your lashes sweetly, shifting on your weight like you’re nervous to be talking to him. like you’re not the one making an absolute mess of his composure right now. 

jeongin just blinks at you. blinks until he’s sure he’s sober. blinks without saying anything for long enough that you damn nearly just repeat yourself, and louder this time. 

“i asked if—”

jeongin shushes you, crowding you in as he closes the distance. close enough that he only has to speak in a whisper, but not too close that he looks like he’s bothering you. 

“what do you want from me?” he asks you straight up, brows pinched with a frown. 

he’s starting to think maybe one of his friends dobbed him in and filled you in on his little crush. maybe you’re just fucking with him, knowing you can turn him to putty with just your tongue. 

you muster the sweetest smile you can, hand falling from his hair to cradle his cheek. 

“just an answer.” 

✦⠀

“fuck fuck, ah—” jeongin whimpers from above, shaky fingers finding solace in your hair. 

for all of one minute your mouth has been relentless on him, ever since he dropped his zipper and answered your burning question. 

at first, he only peeled back the elastic of his boxers to show you a tuft of hair and nothing more. it did not match the drapes, in fact. but that’s not what you were even asking for — you’re actually surprised he still believed it. even now, as he’s alone with a girl in a locked bathroom, who’s moving like she’s ready to pounce on him. 

you had to pretend to still care when he presented the hair, like he thinks it’s actually what you’re after. you tilted your head, hummed in thought, pondered whether you still wanted to fuck someone so clueless. 

(the answer’s yes obviously.)

“looks like it doesn’t.” you shrug.

sensing your disappointment, he doesn’t say anything in reply; about to just zip his pants back up without another word until you physically stop his wrist. 

“i can literally see that you’re hard, jeongin. just take them off.” 

that brings you to now: cheeks hollowed out, tongue dragging along the underside of his cock, throat hugging his tip. 

jeongin’s never felt anything quite like your mouth. he lets another pretty noise slip from his lips, a spotlight on how his length pulses in your mouth. he’s leaking far too much cum to be considered pre, and he winces each time he feels your throat swallowing it down. 

you decide to give him some mercy, sucking him all the way up to the tip before popping your lips off with a wet smack. he shudders as the cool air hits him, missing your heat swallowing him. 

the thought doesn’t linger for long since you can’t help but keep your hands on him — revelling in how responsive he’s been. 

he moans when you wrap a fist around the base of him, thumb pressing at his tip and watching as precum beads under your touch. 

“i can’t believe you thought i just wanted to see your pubes.” you scoff out a laugh, fist slowly dragging up his cock, feeling every pulsing vein under the ridges of your palm. 

jeongin slouches against the wall you pushed him onto, little shaky breaths leaving him as your fist reaches his tip with a squeeze. 

“you—mmh, asked..” 

“yeah, only so i could get in your pants.” you roll your eyes, lazily jerking off just the tip. 

you also feel a strange sense of endearment, that he just went along with what you asked without questioning it… when a bad bitch tells you what to do and all. 

“you don’t actually like my hair?” he hisses when you take your hand off, chasing the circle of your fist until you’re sliding it back down on him again. 

“innie, i put your whole dick in my mouth. it’s safe to assume i probably like you.” 

jeongin hums appreciatively when your hand grips tighter, adding a flick of your wrist as you start to jerk him off with a rhythm. 

to your surprise, the hand in your hair slides down to pinch your chin, tipping your head up to look him in the eye. 

“think i need more convincing.” he breathes out; eyes half-lidded, a smile that you can only describe as foxlike playing at his lips. 

this motherfucker. the same boy who was just whimpering above you, now teasing you — provoking you to get your mouth back on him. 

you’ve seen the way his friends baby him. so you weren’t surprised at all when he so readily just.. let you take care of him. but of course he knows exactly how to use it to get what he wants, too. 

“alright.” you say, intent on sucking the brat out of him. 

and when your mouth parts for him again, swallowing his length until it hits your throat — you can feel his hand slyly pushing your head down the whole way. 

A/N: i hate him

M.LIST ⋮ TAGLIST ⋮ ASK

“hey im just testing the waters,” he said playfully, letting out a soft chuckle. “ i just wanted to see what you need to work on.”

after working through a few of the topics you actually needed help with, you stretched your arms above your head and sighed, your shirt riding up just slightly. you caught jeongin’s eyes flick down for a split second before he looked away.

a smug smile curved onto your lips. you’d definitely noticed. 

“yeah, i need a break. if i see another number, my brain will melt–then i'll start blaming you for my mistakes.” 

jeongin laughed, moving a little closer. “is that so? i thought you liked the attention.”

you tilted your head, strengthening your gaze as you held eye contact with him. “ maybe i do. but you're clearly enjoying it.”

jeongin swallowed, clearly flustered, and ran his hand through his hair. “i–uh, maybe i should get us something to drink.” he says while getting up.

“or,” you gently pushed him back down while sitting onto his lap, “i can give you a little reward for tutoring me.” 

his breath hitched as you shifted against him, the subtle grind drawing a quiet whimper from his lips. his cock throbbed beneath you–already fully hard, and heat pooling deep inside the both of you, aching for more contact. you began to move with more haste–your hips rolling in rougher circles while your mouth pressed against his.

jeongin trembled under your touch, completely powerless to suppress the way his body responded–his length twitching eagerly every time friction built between you two–he was losing control fast.

his breath came in ragged pants as your lips parted. he looked at you with a pleading gaze, his eyes dark with desperation and desire. his voice was filled with need as he uttered one word:

“please.”

you looked at him with lust in your eyes as you slightly grinned. “please what?”

the way you looked at him–lips curled in a teasing smile, eyes heavy with hunger–couldve made him cum right then and there. his chest rose and fell rapidly, heart pounding against his ribs as he watched your expression shift from playful to something far more dangerous.

“please touch me.” he whined, trying to chase any hint of friction.

taking his words into consideration, you slid off his lap and started unzipping his pants. “...shit,” you muttered under your breath– stripping him and yourself of your clothes, “if you look at me like that i just might have to.” 

you slid back onto his lap and grinded your clit into his erection– creating a bigger reaction out of him. he moaned out loud and threw his head back–chanting your name. 

“fuck, if you keep doing this– im gonna cum without me ever getting to be inside you.” 

you lifted yourself up and aligned his dick with your hole–slowly sinking into him. He sunk his head into your shoulder and you let out a whimper as you felt his length inside you–embracing his lips while he moaned into your mouth–thrusting slowly into you.

he was coming undone–and so were you. you both knew you weren't going to last much longer. 

the way his cock stretched you inside? perfect. Every inch sank in like it was meant to be there, and the quiet whimpers that escaped his throat only tightened your core more.

you felt it when he got close– the way his body locked up beneath you–his hands, trembling, gripping your thigh.

and all of the sudden.

a sharp cry escaped from jeongin’s chest.

his back arched violently when release struck him– his cum leaking out of you as you continued to ride him, until you came too– holding him tightly while panting.

“wow.” jeongin says, staying in the same position.

you chuckle softly. “wow indeed.”

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ────

You were staring at your laptop in disbelief. An email from a hotel in Jeju, telling you all about how excited they are to have you stay with them in a week's time. The vacation that you had booked with your boyfriend of two years about a year ago. The trip had left your minds when you broke up about eight months ago.

You scanned their website for their cancellation policy, no luck. Maybe if you emailed and explained your situation they would help because they felt bad? You doubt it. You sent calls round every friend you had, asking if they would be available to go with you. Every single one of them is busy, or can’t call out of work with such a short time frame, there was no one that could go with you.

So you use your last resource, reluctantly pulling up his untouched contact on your phone, to call Hyunjin. He’s nice-ish on the phone, you ask him if he would want to take someone instead since it’s nonrefundable and no one can go with you. ‘I’ll see what I can do,’ is mumbled from his lips before the line goes dead.

It's only one day later that you get a call as you're settling into bed.

“No one can go with me on such short notice,” he told you, a sigh coming from both of your lips. “Don’t kill me for asking this,” he continued, taking in a deep breath for courage, “I’m probably the dumbest man on the planet right now, so I’m sorry in advance. But, why don’t we just go together?” He talks a mile a minute until he finishes, and all that's left is stunned silence.

You begin to stutter over some words, trying to find a thought to even say coherently before you’re interrupted. “Yes, yes. I know. We’re broken up. We haven’t seen each other in eight months. We haven’t spoken in eight months. Blah blah blah.” he says in his usual soft tones, ones that you hadn’t heard in so long. “We spent so much money on this vacation, I don’t want to miss it. Do you?”

Your brain finally caught up with what was happening, “Well, I suppose not.” You finally answered, trying hard to not think about the potential repercussions of going on a week long trip with your ex boyfriend.

“Cool. So we go together. As friends.”

“Friends.”

~

You’re checking your phone again, for the third time since you arrived, trying to look nonchalant as you check for any sign of a message from Hyunjin. That is until you see him out of the corner of your eye getting out of a taxi, walking over to you casually, as if he wasn’t 45 minutes late.

“I’m sorry I’m a little late,” he spoke as he got close to you, pulling his suitcase behind him as you walked into the airport.

“A little? You’re 45 minutes late Hyunjin!” you speak firmly, struggling to hide your annoyance already.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry, let's go!” he called behind him, power walking to the check in desk. He’s as charming as you remember, lifting your bag onto the scale for you, being extra nice to the check in agent, lifting everything for you, including the plane tickets.

Glancing over them, he looks up at you with his mouth open slightly, “Hey! I’m not late!” he says, pushing the ticket into your hand, the check-in deadline in 1 hour rather than 15 minutes like you had first stated in your text.

Taking your belongings back you scoff, “You’re late for the time I told you, which is why I told you that time because you’re always late.” you grumble, making your way to security.

Sitting on the inner seat, you’ve unpacked your headphones and are beginning to look through movies when they announce that you’re going to take off now. Beginning to get nervous, your leg starts to bounce subconsciously, your fingers tapping on the arm rest beneath you, your teeth finding home in your soft bottom lip.

Glancing at you from his seat he put his hand gently on your bouncing thigh, getting it to still before turning his hand over for you to hold it. You shake your head and let out a less than confident, “No, I’m fine. I can do this.” But your face is beginning to lose colour as you look out the window.

“Fine? You’re shaking like a leaf.” He replies, scrunching his fingers to tell you to hold them.

You take a breath before looking at him, “But, it’s weird. We’re not together anymore…” you trailed off, looking down at his hand on your thigh.

You heard him let out an uncharacteristic laugh, “It’s holding my hand because you’re nervous on the plane, not bouncing on my cock. I think you’ll live through it.” You choke at his words, eyes widening at his brazenness. “Last chance before I put my earphones in and let you panic for the rest of the flight.”

Overcoming your weirdness about it all you quickly put your hand in his, intertwinging your fingers like you always used to. His thumb quickly brushing over the back of your hand. “There. Was that so hard?” he mumbles quietly, squeezing your hand once as he felt your anxiety begin to lessen.

As the flight continued on you felt confident enough to let go of his hand, watching the movie on the screen in front of you as he reads his book beside you. You jumped slightly when you saw a drink being set down in front of you, taking your headphones off to thank the flight attendant before looking at Hyunjin beside you.

“Thank you, you didn’t have to.” you started, mumbling the last sentence, “I’m surprised you remember what I drink.”

His eyes met yours, his eyebrows raising in his own surprise. “We were dating for two years, my muse. I know we broke up but I wasn’t that terrible of a boyfriend to not know you.”

The purposeful nickname made the hairs at the back of your neck stand up, not having heard it in so long, despite the teasing nature to which it was said. You whisper another thank you before going back to your movie.

~

The hotel was cute. Cozy, bright and breezy. Something you can imagine in a rom-com. You both cringe as the receptionist confirms that you’ve booked the lovers package as they hand you both the keys, wishing you a relaxing and romantic trip.

You walk towards your room together, Hyunjin wheeling both of your suitcases, waving off your protests about being able to do it yourself. Opening the door, he stands back, allowing you to take in the room first. It’s a beautiful suite with a gigantic king sized bed, covered in rose petals in the shape of a heart. Your eyes panned over to the desk, seeing a large ice bucket with a bottle of champagne, a plate of chocolate covered strawberries, and a handwritten note beside it.

Here at The Tides of Jeju, we are honoured when couples choose to spend their time here. Jeju Island is known for love, and we are delighted when we get to enhance that experience with our hotel. We hope you have a fantastic time, and that your stay strengthens the everlasting love between you.

You wince as you read the letter, handing it to Hyunjin as you made your way out to the patio, looking at the hot tub and over the small fence out to the sea view. You feel his presence come to stand beside you, his arms resting over the fence.

“It is beautiful here, the view is just incredible,” he murmurs, relaxing slightly when you hum in reply, both of you watching the sun set behind the clouds.

When you feel a light breeze begin to nip at your bare legs you both make your way back into your room, eyes moving around to try and think of the best way to go about this.

“I, uh, will take the couch,” you say, going to open your bag to grab some pyjamas, “You’re way too tall to be comfortable on it. I’ll call down to reception and see if they can give us an extra blanket.”

You hear a small amused laugh come from the man on the other side of the room, “We practically used to live together, are you saying us staying in the same bed for a week is too much?”

“Well no, but I want to make sure we’re both comfortable on this trip.”

“I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself, muse, as long as you do,” he replies with a smirk that slowly turns into a serious expression when he meets your worried glances. “But seriously, I’m okay with it if you are. Neither of us can sleep on that for a full week.” he reassures you, giving the couch a dirty look.

You let out a short sigh, the thin leather couch did look like it would give you back issues for at least a month after you get home. Letting him get ready for bed in the bathroom first, you began to unpack some of your bag in the closet.

You turned your head when you heard the bathroom door open, seeing him come out in a soft cotton shirt and shorts. Knowing he would much rather sleep in just his underwear, you appreciate that he’s respecting boundaries despite your familiarity with each other. “All yours,” he calls over his shoulder as he flops down on the bed.

Finally feeling the flight wash off you in a hot shower, you change into your sleep shirt and shorts, brushing your teeth before taking a deep breath and stepping into the bedroom. You couldn’t help yourself when a laugh bubbled out of your throat at the sight in front of you, Hyunjin cuddled up on the side he’s clearly claimed, phone in hand, lights already dimmed.

“I don’t even get a say in where I sleep?”

He barely looks up from his phone and replies, “You’re more than welcome to swap, I’ve made this side warm. But I know you prefer the side away from the door, and away from the aircon. Apologies for being considerate.” He starts to move to the other side of the bed when you stop him, a blush beginning to creep up your cheeks.

You thank him quietly for thinking of you before sliding underneath the crisp hotel duvet and sinking into the cloud like pillows beneath you. You feel him shift behind you, then the lights go out. A barely audible ‘goodnight’ whispered between you. There’s a nervous energy circling the room, an unknown tension pushing unbelievably hard between your backs, making you feel like this ridiculously massive hotel room was 2 feet big, suffocating you.

After what feels like hours, but really was only thirty minutes, you turn onto your back to look up at the ceiling, shifting as quietly as you could to not wake Hyunjin.

It didn’t take long before you felt him move beside you, pulling the duvet under his arms and letting out a loud sigh. “Fuck dude, this is weird.” he breaths out.

You can’t help but let out a small chuckle at his straightforwardness. “Yeah it is.”

There’s a prolonged silence now, but not as awkward as it was now that you had addressed it. Your eyes danced over the perfectly white ceiling, trying hard to find an imperfection to focus on when Hyunjin turns his head to look at you better.

“I like your shirt,” he smirks, tone riddled with his earlier teasing. You had claimed this t-shirt early on in your relationship, it being your go to when you slept over at his apartment. And you were unwilling to part with it when you packed up your things after breaking up.

You let out a slightly frustrated sigh, not in the mood for his recent teasing. “Listen,” you turned to see him properly now, “I tried really hard to wear something else, but they were too rough, or had a tag that was itchy, or it didn’t fit right. I couldn’t sleep until I changed back to this one.”

You saw his smirk soften into a smile, “It looks cute on you. Definitely better than me.” There’s a silence again, but this time it feels normal, both of you looking up at the ceiling again.

After a while that you were almost certain he had fallen asleep you heard an almost inaudible whisper, “I’m glad you kept it.”

“You’re going to think I’m insane,” you laughed back just as quietly, seeing him tilt towards you properly now. “I haven’t been able to get rid of anything yet.” you admitted, holding your breath a little. It had been eight months since you had called it quits and yet you still couldn’t come around to throwing out anything in the box you keep on the top of your closet.

“Anything?” he asks in disbelief, both of you turned to face each other now.

Shaking your head you answer him, “Photos, teddies, jewellery, notes, drawings… they’re all in a box in my room.” You pause for a beat, trying to read his face. “Sorry if that’s weird, I just couldn-.”

“I still have everything too,” he cuts you off with a hushed voice, “There was too much effort put in for me to just throw them away. And in a fucked up way it gave me a bit of comfort, knowing it wasn’t a complete waste of our time.” 

You let out a shaky sigh and a noise of agreement, feeling him shift slightly closer to you subconsciously. Closer, but still far away enough that you don’t touch. A gentle silence fell over you now. A different one in the light of shared confessions, and you both began to drift into sleep.

~

You feel yourself attempt to shift in your sleep but unable to move. Coming to a little more, you can feel the weight of something sitting around your waist, cosy warmth against your back. You were ready to melt into it when your brain decided to catch up, your situation now dawning on you.

You freeze, turning your head to look at Hyunjin, who was cuddled up behind you, arm resting tightly around your waist, his front pressed to your back like it always used to.

You shift and try to get out of his hold, waking him up be damned, but his arm around you tightens and he pulls you back into him more, sleepily protesting, “Where are you going?”

It only takes a beat before his arm rips off you and he’s scrambling backwards, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry,” his brain obviously awake now too. You reassure him that it’s okay, accidents happen, but he was silently panicking. Because yes, it is weird because you’re broken up, but it's weird because it felt nice. And it had been so long since something had felt nice. And he is not awake enough at all yet to know what to do with that information.

Jumping up from bed, you decided to get ready for breakfast, today being your only true free day, you were spending it separately. And after the way you woke up, that doesn’t feel like a bad decision.

After breakfast you went for a short walk around the hotel before deciding on going to the pool. Changing into a tiny red bikini with a dress over the top, you walked through the hotel and down to the pool, not having seen Hyunjin since the morning.

You find an empty sun lounger by the glittering pool and set up your bag, ordering a drink and putting sun lotion on what you could reach before lying down on your back. People watching was one of the best parts about being at a hotel, never knowing who you could see.

There was a young couple who looked to be newly weds in the pool, clinging onto each other, a couple with a small baby who was in floaties learning how to swim, a few other couples sunbathing together, and a group of around six men in their mid twenties messing about with a ball, taking up one corner of the pool.

Grabbing your book, you start to pick up where you had left off last when you felt a short spray of water and the bounce of a ball beside your sunbed. Looking up, you see one of the men from the group looking back at you sheepishly, wading through the water to you while the others tried to muffle their laughter behind him.

He pulled himself out of the water as you lean down to pick up the ball. “I’m sorry about that, it slipped out of my hand.” he explained, smiling down at you, pushing his wet hair out of his face.

“It’s okay,” you couldn’t help but let out a giggle, eyes wandering over his face, down his water-glistened broad shoulders, over the defined lines of his abs before you snapped your eyes back to his glinting eyes.

“Are you here by yourself?” he asked, his own eyes roaming your bikini clad body.

But before you could answer, you hear a confident, “No she’s not.”

Your eyes shifted to where the voice came from, seeing Hyunjin walking around your sunbed and plop himself down on the edge, swim short and button up shirt open, sunglasses propped on his nose.

“Right. Of course not. Sorry man,” he stutters, looking back to you, “Nice to meet you.” And he walks back to his friends, shaking his head and jumps back into the pool.

You round on Hyunjin, “What the fuck was that?”

“I was only answering him. You’re not here by yourself,” he answered, shrugging and pushing his sunglasses further up his nose.

“You can’t be shooing off men like that. You don’t have that right anymore.”

He holds his hands up in surrender, “Okay, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you.” He mutters and stands up.

He comes back three minutes later with a refill of your drink and a popsicle. “A peace offering.”

You raise your eyebrows but accept his gift anyway, appreciating the fruity ice in the heat of the sun. You turn back to your book as Hyunjin takes up his place on the sunlounger beside you.

And while your attention is all on your book, you don’t notice the way Hyunjin’s gaze barely leaves your face. Deeply regretting his gift choice as your lips wrap around the popsicle. Waking up to you pressed against him this morning was difficult enough to move past, never mind the memories that this was dragging out of the depths of his brain.

After you finish it, you put your book mark into the next page and set it down, grabbing your sun lotion and turning onto your front. Holding the bottle out to Hyunjin who just raises his eyebrows in return.

“At least be helpful this one time, and I’ll forgive you for frightening off the cute boy.”

He sighs but moves towards you, sitting down on one side and taking the bottle from your hand. He starts on your shoulders, moving down gently, stopping briefly to undo the strings of your bikini top.

“Hey!” you protested, your hands flying up to cover yourself.

“So you want tan lines now?” he replied back, “You never used to.”

You let out a sigh, because he’s right. And leaned back down, letting your hands go loose. He untied the strings and continued to lotion your back, his finger tips running ever so slightly underneath the hem of your bottoms.

He leaned back, making sure he didn’t miss a spot when he mumbles, “Knew this one would suit you.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow, not understanding what he meant.

“Your bikini. I bought it for you right after we booked this trip as a present for you. You look good. It compliments your skin tone.” He explained, eyes roaming you a little more freely now.

“Oh, uh, thank you.” you stuttered in surprise, lying down and closing your eyes to try and shield you from your awkwardness.

After 30 minutes of sun bathing, you decided to take a dip in the pool while Hyunjin lay out for longer. You waded around for a while before the guy who spoke to you earlier invited you to play some volleyball with them.

Making your way over, one of the other men ask if your boyfriend will mind if you play with them. Letting out a small laugh you reply, “Oh, he’s not my boyfriend.” And you miss the eye contact that they gave each other over your head.

They take 10 minutes to teach you how to play, which apparently meant standing pressed close behind you to show you the correct techniques, their hips pressing firmly against yours under the water, which get a few ingenuine muttered apologies. It’s not hard to catch the sight of Hyunjin out of the corner of your eye, not hiding his staring, brooding and glaring through his sunglasses.

You make easy chit-chat with the group of men, finding out that they’re leaving in a couple of days, which they all pout about, asking if you’d meet them at the outdoor hotel bar after dinner, around nine. In hopes that they can see you more before they have to go.

You make your way back to your sunlounger as they pack up to leave, smiling at them all and the cute one from earlier sends you a quick wink and says, “See you at nine.”

You can already feel the laser beams cutting through your back when you hear him ask what he means by that, scoffing once you explain.

“And you’re really going?” he asks, unable to let his mouth shut.

“Why not? I’m single, they’re cute.” you try to make a point that although you’re here together, he doesn’t get to be possessive of you anymore. That ship sailed eight months ago.

He let out a strained sigh, “Fine. But I’ve heard enough stories about this before. I’m going too.” But before even one protest left your mouth, he reassures you that he won’t be sitting with you, just at the bar having a drink so he can still keep an eye on everything. “I know we’re broken up, but I can’t have you getting kidnapped or worse. I care about you too much.”

~

Wearing a cute dress and some light makeup, you and Hyunjin make your way down to the bar. After the group of men from earlier catch your attention, Hyunjin makes a beeline for the bar, still in your eyeline but out of the way. The guys are excited to see you as they move to make room in their corner booth, away from most people, letting you sit squished in between them. As you order your drink, you can feel Hyunjin’s eyes on you periodically, but not over-baring, and you can feel yourself relax a little.

Dohyun was pressed beside you, making sure your glass never went empty. His hand eventually came to rest on your thigh, a friendly gesture, he didn’t even look in your direction when he did it.

Finishing your third drink, you glance over to the bar to see Hyunjin chatting with a pretty blonde, his back now to you. You feel Dohyun’s hand squeeze your thigh to get your attention back on him, his head moving closer to yours.

“How about we get out of here?” he smirks into your ear, pressing a kiss to the junction of your neck that makes shivers go up your spine. But they were not good shivers. They weren’t the ones that made you feel excited like they had with Hyunjin. These were ones that felt like alarm bells.

Feeling the eyes of his friends bore holes into your body, you shake your head and open your mouth to reply when you feel his grip tighten on your thigh. His friend on the other side of you pressing closer to your body.

“Come on now, we promise to make sure you have a good time. All the others have.” His last sentence sends a wave of nausea through you, his hand moving your hair from your shoulder so his lips could make contact with your neck properly. As you try to stand up and pull away, their hands on you made it impossible to move. Your eyes desperately search for Hyunjin, finding him mid laugh with his back still to you, chatting to the girl at the bar.

“What’s wrong baby? Why else would you come to the bar with six guys if not to let us have a little fun with you.” The nickname he used made your stomach lurch, wishing only to hear that from Hyunjin, now more than ever as Dohyun’s hand is almost bruising your thigh.

You let out a yelp, and suddenly you’re no longer trapped between them, your eyeline now only has a broad back in your sights, your wrist tightly caught in a strong and familiar grip. Hyunjin.

He glares at the men who are now grumbling with complaints, before pulling you back with him to your room, but not without hearing a “You’re welcome for warming her up for you.” calling from the table behind you.

You feel his muscles tense at the sentence, his feet faltering as if he wants to stop, but continues to pull you through the hotel lobby and back to the safety of your room. He lets you go once you’re there, and you can feel the tension in him ready to snap at any given moment.

You can’t stop shaking. “T-thank y-you.” He turns his head when he hears how soft your voice is, seeing your arms wrapped around your body protectively, the colour drained from your face.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe.” he replies quickly, moving to you, watching his brain argue with itself whether it’s okay for him to pull you into a hug or not.

You take a shaky breath, and not wanting to burden him more than you already had, you thank him again before going to the bathroom to try and scrub the icky feeling off your body.

~

“What’s wrong baby? Why else would you come to the bar with six guys if not to let us have a little fun with you.” The nickname he used made your stomach lurch, wishing only to hear that from Hyunjin, now more than ever as Dohyun’s hand is almost bruising your thigh.

You let out a yelp and try to look again to where Hyunjin was sitting. At the bar with the same pretty girl. You call his name, gently at first to not cause a scene. But he can’t hear you. You call his name louder and louder, practically screaming his name as you sob. But it’s like he can’t hear you. He grabs the girl’s hand and starts walking with her into the main part of the hotel, not once looking back to see if you were okay.

You can feel Dohyun’s hand begin to push your skirt up, his fingers grazing the edge of your panties-.

“Y/N!” you wake up to Hyunjin shouting your name, his hands on your shoulder shaking you awake.

You can’t help but flinch and move into the corner of the bed, feeling the unstoppable tears streaming down your face, your body unable to stop itself from trembling.

Hyunjin reaches a hand towards you, but before he could even get close you pull your legs into yourself, forming a small ball, letting out a heart wrenching sob. He retracts his hand, moving to turn on the lamp from his bedside table, quickly going to the bar area and grabbing a cold bottle of water from the fridge for you. He sat on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance, not wanting to panic you further.

After a couple of sips of water, you set the bottle on your bedside table, staring into the wall in front of you.

“Hey,” he says softly, your eyes flicking up to his, seeing so much emotion and worry in them. “What happened baby?”

You feel yourself flinch at the nickname, unable to get any words out you shake your head. He nods in reply, understanding, it wasn’t his first rodeo with your nightmares. He gets himself back into bed, asking if you wanted to watch something to get your mind off it, not waiting for your answer before searching for something repetitive and comforting.

You try to get comfy under the covers again but you struggle, trying to concentrate on the old show you used to watch together when you were dating. Tossing and turning, moving the blanket a million different ways, none of them giving you any sort of relief.

He notices how uncomfortable you were and raises his arm up for you, not even looking at you, zero expectations. But he lets out a sigh when you tentatively push yourself under his arm, your head resting against his shoulder, legs still pushed away from his body.

He wraps his arm around you, his hand landing safely on your back. It’s very stiff at first, both of you unsure if this is pushing the boundaries too much.

You inhale his bodywash from his shower earlier, the familiarity making you relax into him. Your legs slowly moved closer to him, your upper body feeling significantly less rigid. Your arm comes up to rest on his mid section, but you hesitate at the last second, pulling it back to rest by your side.

You can feel the small smile that quirks up on his lips as he pulls your unsure arm with one hand and pushes at your back with the other, draping yourself over the top of him. Just like you used to. Despite the squeak of surprise you let out at his sudden actions, you couldn’t help but feel more at ease since before you broke up.

He squeezes your hand and then lets it go, his other hand drawing gentle patterns on your back, lulling you back to sleep in his arms.

~

After a successful sleep without any further nightmares, you spent your morning and afternoon relaxing, far away from the pool and the bar. Tonight’s plan was to go to a club, and despite Hyunjin asking you a million and one times if you still feel up for it, you think it would be a good distraction from the night before.

Perfecting your hair and makeup, you move back to the bedroom to let Hyunjin get ready in the bathroom. Walking in, his back is to you, only in his sweats, gathering things for his shower. You can’t help but stop in your tracks and admire the toned muscles of his back and arms, significantly more than what they were when you were dating.

He turns around and smirks at your expression, a little bit of his teasing self coming back. He flexes his arms like he would at the gym, “Like them?”

You hum noncommittedly in reply, trying your best not to stare too much.

His voice is not as confident as he explains that he couldn’t step food into his studio after the break up because it reminded him so much of you, that Chan and Changbin dragged him to the gym just to get him to leave the house. He’s over not being able to be in the studio now, but loved the release he feels when working out so kept going.

When he moves to the bathroom to shower, you shimmy into your dress and do your final touch ups, spraying your perfume as he walks back into the room. You catch a small groan leaving his lips as his eyes roamed your body. But you couldn’t be mad, looking back at him with an equal amount of hunger, his half buttoned shirt showing off his necklaces that lay against his tanned skin, his cologne swirling into your senses when he opened the door.

Turning, you gestured to the open zip on the back of your dress. “Could you do me up?”

He doesn’t speak, crossing the room in silence as you turn your back to him properly. His gentle hands reach up to push your hair to one side and begins to zip up the back of your dress, his hot breath hitting your now exposed neck.

He lets out a strained breath when his fingers get close to your bra strap, recognising it well, a firm favourite of his from when you were dating. He finishes zipping you, and pushes his hands back into your hair, fingers grazing the back of your neck to put your hair back into place.

You thank him as you turn around, seeing a fleeting moment of lust dark in his eyes before he looks away, “Ready to go?”

You make your way to the side of the bed, “Just need to get my shoes on,” you explained, sitting down and attempting to lace up your heels, quickly failing due to your dress restricting your movements. You try again, aware that Hyunjin is watching you.

A quiet ‘fuck’ leaves your mouth as you fail a third time, seeing him move closer to you. He kneels down on one knee in front of you, grabbing the shoe from your hand before putting it on you. 

Your breath hitches at the kind gesture, your smile faltering as you see a flirtatious smirk on his lips as he takes the second shoe from your hands. “Still enjoy the sight of me on my knees for you, muse?”

“Shut up.” you punctuated with a gentle hit to the back of his head as he secures your second shoe, standing up and offering his hand to help you up. Grabbing your bag, you make your way to where Hyunjin is holding the door open for you. Stopping in front of him, leaning in slightly as you fix his hair, like you always used to when you were dating, not able to stop yourself.

~

You both move swiftly over to the bar to grab a drink, turning to look out at the busy dance floor.

“We should probably go our separate ways now that we’re here right? So people don’t think we’re a couple?” you mention, looking at Hyunjin out of the corner of your eye. He lets out a sigh before nodding, about to speak when a very familiar song comes on over the speakers. Turning to each other, your eyes flash in excitement, smiles gracing both your faces.

“Okay, maybe after this song,” you laugh as you both make your way to the dance floor. Grabbing your hand, he spins you around eliciting a squeal and giggles erupting from your lips. Facing each other, his hands rest on your hips guiding your movements in time with his. Your hands make their way to his broad shoulders, squeezing the new muscles there that you still weren’t quite used to. He makes a sound of approval, one of his hands now resting at your lower back, pulling you closer to him.

Barely an inch of space between your bodies, you move your hands into his hair, tugging lightly at the hairs at the nape of his neck. A low groan leaves his plush lips as he moves his face closer to yours, his breath causing goose bumps to rise on your skin. His eyes flicker down to your lips and then back to your eyes, a look that was all too familiar to you.

You’re pulled out of your own bubble as the song comes to an end, both of you pulling back and coming to your senses. Moving away from him, you mumble about getting some fresh air before turning and walking quickly to the entrance.

You close your eyes and inhale the breezy air when you make it outside, you knew it was a bad idea to go to the club together, always a weak spot for the both of you. Just as you open your eyes, you feel a presence behind you. Thinking that it’s Hyunjin coming to talk to you, you let out a breathy laugh, “Maybe let's not talk about it.”

A familiar voice replies, “No problem sweetcheeks,” sending a shiver down your spine as a hand much harsher than Hyunjin’s smacks your ass.

You shriek in surprise as you jump, turning around to yell at him. But before you could, Hyunjin had Dohyun pinned to the wall, his fist meeting his face. A significant crack as blood gushed from his clearly broken nose.

Before words could even be exchanged, you pulled him back by his shoulder, telling him that you need to go. He pulls away quickly, wrapping his arm around your shaking form and pulling you into his side, throwing a glare back at the man trying to nurse his nose.

~

Finally back in the hotel room, you throw off your shoes with a lot less care than you were trying to put them on with, Hyunjin unclipping his necklaces.

“You should have let me have a few more hits before you pulled me off him,” he mumbled to you, finally having courage after the very silent taxi ride.

You let out an annoyed sigh, “This is one thing I hated about being together. You’re always so impulsive, you act before you think.” Turning to face him properly now.

His jaw dropped as he looked at you in shock, because wasn’t it you who just got her ass slapped by that guy? He was just defending you, and trying to make it clear to him that it wasn’t acceptable.

“Yes, thank you so much,” you reply, sarcasm in your tone, “Although you got your message across, I felt unsafe with you acting like that. You knew there was a group of them. What if they ganged up on you, what if someone had a knife? What would I have been able to do to help?” you don’t realise how much you needed to get this out until you felt the hot tears well up in your eyes. “You have zero impulse control, this was why we couldn’t work.” you finish in a hushed tone, mostly to yourself.

“Woah woah woah. That is not why we broke up.” he moved closer to you, hands running through his hair like they always did when he was thinking. “This was not a one sided break up. You checked out a long time before we broke up! You stopped asking how I was, started standing me up on date nights, you were always late to things, and started ignoring me for your friends!” his voice was raised now, bringing back a familiarity that you wish you didn’t have to endure again.

He was right, your break up was mutual. You had done all of those things. But he was also staying late at work on purpose, which you found out from Jisung, taking overtime to avoid spending time with you, saying he’ll be home soon but finding videos of him stumbling out of clubs with his coworkers on snapchat.

It wasn’t long after that that you packed a bag with as much stuff from his apartment that you could, and left before he came back home. The next afternoon you came back with a box of his belongings from your apartment, telling him you couldn’t do it anymore.

Despite knowing you were also in the wrong, you had blamed it all on him. That since he was trying so hard to avoid coming home to you at all cost, and you didn’t want to sit at home and wait for him. You wanted to go out. You wanted to have fun. Why didn’t you deserve to do that too?

“Why didn’t I deserve the Hyunjin you are now?” you ask in a small voice, “Why did I get the version of you that seemingly didn’t give a shit about me?”

But he couldn’t let his voice change to a gentler tone like you had, “I always gave a shit about you! You were all I could think about!”

You let out a gentle scoff at his last sentence, “While we’re on the topic, did you finally sleep with Areum? She was practically begging to be with you even while we were together.”

His expression falters at your accusation, “I - what? Of course not!” He shouts, but his voice is losing its bravado. “I haven’t been with anyone other than you since before we got together.” he quietly admits, both of you barely a step away from each other now.

Your eyebrows raise in surprise, you had convinced yourself he had moved on quickly after your break up. Eyes flicking over his, trying to read his expression, almost inaudibly you whisper, “I couldn’t either, I couldn’t think about anyone else.”

At your confession he breaks the short distance between you, his lips finally on yours. One of his hands embeds itself in your hair, pulling you firmly against his lips. The other rests on your lower back, tugging you into his embrace.

The kiss is needy, desperate, his tongue quickly swiping across your bottom lip, his hand moving from your back to your ass, squeezing tightly to give himself access to your mouth when your mouth falls open.

His lips move to press a kiss to your cheek, then down your jaw, sucking at that small spot just under your ear that makes your knees wobble. Remembering your body like it was the back of his hand. He continued to kiss down your neck, nipping at your collarbone as your hands dig into his shoulders.

“I hate that you still know exactly how to get under my skin,” you admit, but both of you know you don’t mean it. Especially when his hand removes itself from your hair to squeeze your breast, smirking into your neck when you let out a breathy moan.

“Please,” is all that comes from your mouth. His smirk remains steady as he asks you to repeat yourself, feigning inability to hear you.

Letting out a whimper when he presses you closer to him you repeat yourself, “Please.”

“Please what, muse?” he asks, pulling back to look in your lust ridden eyes.

“Please touch me,” you whine, thankfully he doesn’t ask for more clarification as he’s spinning you both around and walking you backwards towards the bed. The backs of your knees hitting the mattress before you’re being pushed down onto it, bouncing lightly before he’s down on top of you.

He kisses down your neck, over your clavicle and to your chest, pushing down the top of your dress. He moans into your skin when he reveals your bra, tugging it down, his mouth immediately came to suck on the skin surrounding your nipple, leaving bruises in his wake. He finally finished teasing you with his tongue when he takes your nipple into his mouth, sucking on it in a way that makes your back arch and your fingers dig into his upper back.

Smirking into your skin, his hands move up your back, pulling harshly at the zip on your dress until he can pull it over your head. He expertly unclips your bra, leaving you in only black lace panties. His favourite.

“Fuck, you’re as beautiful as I remembered.” he mumbled as he kisses down your stomach, parting your thighs with his hands. He presses a kiss that was gentler than the others on the inside of your right thigh, so close to the thin hem of your underwear.

His nose barely brushes over your throbbing clit, his breath hot on the wet spot on your panties when you rock your hips up, desperate for any sort of friction that wasn’t your own doing.

He let out a breathy chuckle, “It’s okay baby, I got you.” His fingers hook onto either side of your panties, pulling them down your legs, revealing your soaking core to him after what felt like centuries. “Fuck.”

He can’t help but move his hand up to your centre, parting your folds with his long fingers, watching your wetness drip down onto your ass. He cheekily strokes a barely there finger over your slit just to feel you twitch beneath him.

“Stop teasing Jinnie, please,” your voice was almost unrecognisable with want.

He doesn’t respond with words, but his mouth attached itself to your clit immediately, flicking his tongue over it like he knows you go crazy for.

Your breath hitches at the feeling of his tongue finally on you after so long, your hand coming to grip his hair at the back of his head, pressing him into you further. His tongue roamed further down, groaning into you as he lapped at your drenched cunt.

You couldn’t help but shudder as you got used to this feeling again, his plump lips sucking, tongue flicking, knowing exactly how to bring you to the edge.

“Did you miss this? Miss feeling me between your thighs?” he asked, moving back up to your clit. One hand still firm on your thigh to hold you open, the other now moving closer to your core, the pad of his long finger teasing around your entrance.

“If you haven’t been with anyone since we broke up, can you even take two of my fingers?” he mumbled into your cunt, the vibrations making your thighs try to close around his head at the stimulation. “Or maybe you’re wet enough to take them?” he mused, two of his fingers now pressing at your folds but not entering. 

“I’m sure you remember how big I am baby, two fingers is barely enough to prep you, never mind one.” he smirked into your clit, sucking relentlessly as you let out a broken moan at his words. “What do you think baby?” The tips of his fingers pressed almost in before they pulled away, a whine ripping from your lips at the loss of contact. You could barely think with how fucked out your brain already was, taking a moment to even realise he was asking you a question.

“Two,” you answered dazedly, your hips pushing up into his mouth, “Please,” you whispered.

That was all he needed before he was pushing two of his long fingers into your core, lapping at your swollen bud to ease any discomfort from the intrusion. He couldn’t help but press his hips hard into the mattress below him when he hears your pleas for more.

Settled in, he teasingly pushed his finger tips up, pressing hard on that spongy spot inside you that made you begin to see stars at the edge of your vision. “Fuckkkk,” you moaned out, you had forgotten how good he was at this.

His lips reattached to your clit, flicking over it quickly as he pulled his fingers out, and thrusted them back in at a steady pace, not giving you much time to adjust to the feeling of his fingers in you once again.

Your grip on the back of his head intensified, consistent pleads of ‘Please,”, “More,”, and “I’m so close,” leaving your lips in abandon. He can feel your muscles tightening, your walls clenching harder around his fingers when he moans “Come for me baby,” into your clit before continuing to suck, his fingers hitting your spot with every thrust, throwing you over the edge with a choked out moan.

Your legs clenched hard around his head, your fingers tightening in his hair, keeping him pulled perfectly to you as you rode out your high. Once he was sure you were done, he pulled his fingers from you tentatively. Although he still lapped at your wetness that was dripping from you until you pushed his head away in oversensitivity, knowing your ex boyfriend would keep going forever from past experiences.

He pressed one last kiss to your inner thigh before using the back of his hand to wipe off the mixture of his salvia and your come from his chin. Moving up your body, he smirked down at your blissed out expression before leaning down and pressing a hungry kiss to your lips.

His tongue quickly darts between your lips, letting you taste yourself. His still clothed hips coming to settle between your legs, his hard cock pressing against your still sensitive core. You couldn’t help the needy whine that left your lips as you realise how much you missed this.

Sex with Hyunjin was always so good. He was so attentive to your needs, always willing to try new things, and no matter what, always happy to fuck you through a mattress.

Your hips rocked up into his, causing his hands to tighten around your hips before breaking your kiss to look into your eyes. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked, the fire was still in his eyes, but softened as he comes to realise the situation that you both are in. He desperately doesn’t want you to say no, having missed you every single day since you left, but he would never convince you to if you decided you were done.

“I’m sure,” you reply, “I’m so sure, Jinnie please fuck me,” you whimper out, fucked out eyes staring into his darkening ones.

He had never moved faster, standing up to kick off his clothes before making his way back between your thighs. He presses one last kiss to your lips before you feel his harder than ever cock run over your folds, moistening his head before settling at your entrance.

“Are you still on birth control?” he whispered into your lips, his breath hot against your face, his grip on your hip otherworldly.

A slight nod of your head was all it took before he began to push into you, kissing up your whines as he slowly but steadily bottomed out. Groaning into your mouth at the feeling of being squeezed so tightly, letting out a breathy whine of his own when he feels your walls clamp ever harder around him, trying to get used to his size again.

“I’m not going to last long if you tighten up like that sweetheart,” he moaned, his eyes now bright with fire as his hands move up and down your thighs.

“Move, please,” you manage to whine out, your hands coming down to rest on his strong thighs. Your nails digging in lightly as you feel the stretch of his thick sock as he pulled himself out to the tip before snapping his hips back into you, unable to hold himself back.

His head pushed itself into the dip of your neck, sucking a bruise there as he pounded into you, knowing he wasn’t going to last long after eight months of only his hand.

The familiar throb in your lower stomach had you moaning loudly as he hits your spot with an easy familiarity, pushing his hand under the back of your thigh, pulling your leg up onto his shoulder.

The new angle made you scratch down his thighs, tears pooling on your lower lash line. “I can’t, it-it’s too much. Baby please.” you whine out, not noticing the way his hips stutter at the nickname he hasn’t heard in over a year.

But he moved on quickly, bringing his thumb to your swollen clit, “I know you have one more for me, just one more,” his thumb pressed harder, his thrusts getting more desperate now.

“Come on my cock. I can feel you getting close, so damn tight around me like a vice,” he moaned out. A well timed thrust to your g-spot, a harsh circle around your clit had you coming around his cock, hard. He followed soon after, prolonging your orgasm as you felt his hot come paint your walls. His grip on your hips pinched, and you knew there was going to be marks in the morning.

He was panting now, your own breath shaky as he pulled out. He sneaked a glance at the sight of his come pouring out of you before he went to the bathroom to grab a cloth for you. Cleaning you up, he threw it to the side, morning Hyunjin’s problem.

Falling into bed beside you, he pulled you into his chest. Just the way he always would. One hand stroking your back, the other running through your hair. Just as he was about to ask you what just happened, do you regret it, please can we think about trying again? He heard your breathing calm, and you getting heavier against him. He pulled the blankets around you both, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead before falling asleep himself.

~

You wake up surrounded by his familiar smell. Cracking one eye open, all you can see is his chest rising slowly. His arms were wrapped tightly around you, your legs entangled, both of you still bare.

Knowing there was no way you would be able to go back to sleep, too many thoughts plaguing your mind, too many worries about what happened last night. What it meant, why you had both allowed it to happen. But also how nice it had felt waking up to him, how you felt like you had some unanswered questions finally brought to rest, how much you really missed him.

Getting up gently, trying your hardest not to wake him, you made your way to the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was going to be an easy going one, a planned out day by the hotel. A nice walk around Jeju this afternoon, with a private table booked at the nicest BBQ place on the island for dinner.

But you couldn’t just sit in the hotel room and wait around for Hyunjin to wake up. Neither of you needed to go anywhere for a few hours, you decided that you would grab coffee for the both of you.

As you walked out of the hotel and down the street, you couldn’t help but let your mind wander to the night before. The flirting, the dancing, the almost kiss. The punch, the argument, the sex. It was a lot of emotions swirling around at once.

The club had made you reminiscent of what it was like when you were dating, the punch had made you panic, the sex made you feel dazed. Did you want to get back together with him? Was he having even remotely similar feelings about this whole situation?

There were so many things that happened between you that made you leave, and you couldn’t let yourself go through that again. But it seemed like he had changed. But was he just putting up a good front for you since you’d been apart so long? Trying to make himself look better than he was just to show off what you were missing?

You had been so lost in your thoughts you didn’t remember grabbing the coffees that were now in your hands, standing back in front of your hotel room door, wondering what the day will bring.

~

You were trying. You really were. Trying to forget the night before. But you blushed every time you looked at him.

The whole morning had been awkward. You still hadn’t talked to each other besides the usual pleasantries, awkward thank yous, and mumbled ‘wow it’s so pretty’ small talk.

Every time you glanced in his direction you couldn’t help but melt a little bit more. During your break up, you had hoped that you were imagining how defined his jawline was, how glittery his eyes were, how much of a sucker you were for his arms. And that was not helped when he helped an older lady up some steps towards the hill.

You were now both sitting opposite each other as he waited for the grill in front of you to heat up. You had searched your bag for the last three minutes looking for a hair tie, hating the smell that clung to it when it was left down.

Fuck. Remembering that the last one broke and you hadn’t got around to replacing it yet, you put your bag down in defeat, feeling awkward when you felt Hyunjin’s eyes still on you.

“What is it?” he asked, tilting his head in confusion.

Shaking your head you let out a sigh, “I forgot a hair tie, it’s okay, I’ll make do.”

Without a second thought, he lifts his wrist to reveal one sitting snug around it, pulling it off and holding it out to you.

Your brain short circuits as you take it from him, “T-thank you?” He had always carried one when you were dating, you just didn’t realise that he was still doing it.

Seeing your confusion he replies, “Habit,” he shrugs, “Plus, my hair is getting longer again, it’s handy to have.”

Trying your hardest to get over the awkwardness, you asked about his friends. Although they were once all your shared friends, they all chose their sides in the breakup. “How are the boys?”

“They’re good. Chan and Bin have just opened a gym together, Jeongin is backpacking through Europe and having way too much fun if you catch my drift,” he replies, “And Seungmin is going to pop the big question any day now.” He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. “How are the girls?”

You smiled as you thought about them, “Chaeryeong is pretty much wifed up, Lia has opened a cafe with a little bookstore, and Yeji has just left to go on tour as a dancer.” You were so excited for your friends' lives, definitely living through their exciting escapades.

“I miss them,” he admitted, “It was always fun when we were all together.”

You and Hyunjin had first met through your friends at a small dinner party that Lia and Yuna had hosted. They had put your place cards beside each other at the dinner table, surrounded only by what you now know were enablers. “I know love when I see it. And I see it. All over your stupid faces.”

You had got to talking easily about art, poetry, and books, hitting it off so quickly you wondered if soulmates were real. He talked about his own works, how much he loved to paint. At the end of the night he asked if you would like to see his artwork, which had left you both slightly inebriated fucking against his studio floor. It didn’t take long after that for the two of you to start dating.

You also missed hanging out all together. You missed his studio too. Curled up on the couch as he did his thing, mostly commissions thanks to his social media blowing up, as you half read your book as you fell asleep into the plush cushions. It was your comfort place. Until it wasn’t.

When he started coming home later and later, too much work to do that took priority over you. Making dinner for the two of you, but he didn’t make it home to even look at it. Leaving it in the fridge with a text that slowly started being left on read, a post it note left on the door that got thrown out instead of his usual heart drawn on it in recognition. 

“They’re still mad at you, you know,” you say softly, nervously glancing up to see his reaction.

He winces and nods, “I’m still mad at me too,” he answered, “I wish I could make it up to them.”

“To you,” he whispered.

“Hyunjin-” but he cut you off before he could continue.

“You know, I didn’t actually ask anyone else if they could come with me on this trip.” Your breath hitched as his words sank into your brain. “I just wanted to see you, even if just for a short time. See if you were okay.”

He looked everywhere but at you, unsure how you were going to react to his sudden confession.

“I’m glad everyone that I asked said no,” you admitted softly, your eyes finally meeting as he lifted his head at your words. You held his eye contact for shorter than you wanted, breaking it when the server came over to deliver your side dishes, the moment you were having now clearly over.

~

Arriving back at the hotel room, neither of you were feeling overly tired. Flopping down onto the bed you close your eyes to try to relax. When you feel the bed shift beside you, you crack an eye open to see Hyunjin staring out onto the patio, silent thoughts swirling behind his eyes. “What is it?”

He looks down at you briefly, “Want to get into the hot tub?”

His answer throws you off now, not sure what you were expecting but it wasn’t that. “Huh?”

“We’ve been here for four days and we haven’t used it yet. It would be a waste no?” he finished, getting out of bed to look for trunks in his suitcase.

Your overthinking brain went into overdrive. Is it too intimate? The two of you in the hot tub together? But you also slept together last night so what is too intimate at this point? Will there be awkward silences? What do you even talk about?

You were drawn out of your daze by the patio door opening, Hyunjin’s back flexing as he muttered, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.” And he closed the door behind him again.

Deciding that you can’t really mess up whatever is going on here more than you already did last night, you hopped into the bathroom with the first bikini you could find in your bag.

Opening the door to the patio, you had to stop yourself from overthinking more than you already had that night. Stepping out onto the stone and up the short steps to climb in beside an awestruck Hyunjin with a slightly lowered jaw.

“What?” you ask, adjusting yourself in the water.

He lets out a cough and looking out into the sea view, “Nothing, uh-, just, you look good. I mean! Nice! You look nice.” he stutters out, avoiding all eye contact, a stark difference to the cocky version of him you had met several times on this trip.

Looking down at yourself, you realised what bikini you had on. Hyunjin’s favourite. A tiny little black number that he insisted accompany you any time you went somewhere with a swimming pool, hot tub, or ocean. And every single time you wore it you ended up in the same situation after. His hands tightly holding your waist, his mouth on your neck, and his cock deep inside you.

“I just lifted the first one I found,” you answered a question that wasn’t asked. “I can go change…”

He turned his head quickly towards you, “NO!” coughing at the force his word came out, “No. You don’t have to change. I promise. All good.”

You both relaxed more into the bubbles, silently enjoying the view.

“This would have been a fun couple trip,” he said quietly, so quietly you almost didn’t hear him over the sounds of the hot tub.

“Has it not been a fun exes-in-Jeju, whatever this is, trip?” you teased, knee nudging his under the water.

His eyes meet yours and a small smile graces his lips. “It could have been better, no? No spooky men, no punch, no argument.”

“Ah, but then other things last night wouldn’t have happened,” you blurted out, closing your eyes and covering your mouth. Wanting to die on the spot for bringing it up first.

After a too quiet minute, you felt a comforting hand on your thigh, giving it a small squeeze. “Hey, Y/N, look at me.” His other hand brought yours away from your eyes as they gently unclenched themselves, timidly meeting his gaze.

“I know last night was not really anything that was planned,” he breathed out a chuckle, “Anything after going to the club wasn’t in the plan. But I don’t regret any of it. Not almost kissing you, not protecting you, not being with you again.” He explained, his hand on your thigh moving up just a fraction. His eyes were endearingly honest, searching yours for any hint of shame on your end.

Your eyes closed again briefly before meeting his, “I don’t regret any of it either,” you admitted, your hand coming to rest on top of his on your thigh. He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. “I didn’t think I realised how much I missed you,” you continued, “How good you are to me.” You blushed, looking away from his intense gaze.

You felt his strong hand come under your chin, tilting your head up to him again. He was much closer than before. His eyes darted from yours down to your lips, “Can I?” he whispered, almost so quiet that you barely heard him.

“Please,” you whispered back. Moving a fraction of an inch closer to him, feeling his breath on your lips now, you waited for him to close the final stretch of distance between you.

After what felt like forever of watching his eyes gaze into yours, he finally presses his lips to yours. It was oh so familiar and yet new at the same time. He kissed you like he used to , cuddled up on his couch in his studio, in the kitchen at 3am, after he promised you the whole world and not a thing less. It was unlike the kisses from the night before, that were desperate and needy. It was yearning, it was like finally getting air after drowning.

Your hands pressed into the glistening skin of his shoulders, pushing him to sit back properly while you hooked your leg over his lap, getting yourself comfortable, never once breaking the kiss.

His tongue darted along your bottom lip, a short moan leaving his bottom lip when yours parted without hesitation, tongues meeting in familiar exploration. His hands sat heavy on your waist, roaming the small expanse of your skin, squeezing but not wanting to gravitate too far out of enjoyment.

You felt his hands dig into your skin and his hips thrust up into yours when you bit into his bottom lip, pulling back to look into his lust ridden eyes. You rolled your hips over him, feeling how hard he was from only having your thin swimwear between you. His eyes rolled back at the sensation, his hands pulling you down onto him more. 

His lips met your neck as he guided you over him, kissing so gently around the marks he had made the night before, nipping them slightly to feel your thighs close around him. Your hand made its way down his chest, pressing lightly down onto his throbbing cock, feeling the vibrations of him moaning into your neck at the sensation.

Feeling arousal pooling in your lower stomach and not wanting to wait, you pulled his shorts down to reveal his cock. Wrapping your hand around it, you stroked it firmly, hearing how much he needed you by the whines he let out into your neck.

Reaching down, you pulled your bikini bottoms to the side and lined him up with your already dripping entrance. His hands gripped your hips harder, nails cutting into you ever so slightly, only adding to the sensation of him bottoming out inside of you.

“Ah fuck,” he whimpered, his head hitting the side of the hot tub behind him. You have your hips a few experimental rolls, getting used to how deep he was inside you again. “You feel so good,” he whined, unable to keep himself from complimenting you.

If he was told before this trip that you were going to be riding him in the hot tub on your balcony, he would have cracked a rib from how much he would have laughed.

He cannot stop admiring you, his hands guiding your hips at an increasingly faster speed now. Catching your moans with his lips when he feels you clench hard around him when he nudges that spot inside you that he never seems to miss.

“I missed you. I missed you on top of me,” he groaned out, “You have no idea how many times I thought about you like this when I was fucking my hand. How many times I had to stop myself calling you to see if you would come help me.”

He couldn’t stop rambling, the feeling of you around him way too much to take. “Baby, fuck, please baby.” He didn’t even know what he was asking for. He could feel himself getting close already, always a sucker for you on top.

Knowing you were not quite there yet but now far off, he pushed himself up to pull your bikini top to the side, bringing your nipple to his mouth. He felt you clamp down on him, your hips stuttering as your head threw back at the sensation. “There we go, just like that pretty girl.”

His thumb came down to rub quick circles onto your clit, feeling how close you were just from him taking your breast in his plush lips. Letting his hips meet yours in sharp thrusts he whimpered, “Come for me baby, please.”

He moved to your other nipple, biting down gently was what sent you hurtling over the edge. His movements never stopping on your clit, his hips still meeting yours as he feels you come undone around him.

He followed moments later, spilling himself into your quivering heat, your thighs trembling either side of his at the slight overstimulation from his thumb.

You collapse forward onto his chest, both of you needing a moment to catch your breath. Turning to look at his blissed out face, you pressed a light kiss to his jawline before relaxing into his hold.

The tiny black bikini never fails to work.

~

It was your last day of your weird but wonderful vacation with Hyunjin.

You had saved the best activity for last when you had planned this trip a year ago. The waterfall. There were several beautiful ones in Jeju, but this one was out of a magical fairytale.

You had arrived about ten minutes ago with a group of people from your tour, not having actually moved from your spot beside the water, trying to comprehend the sight in front of you.

Finally taking a glance over at Hyunjin beside you, his jaw was slack, his eyes unable to stop exploring the natural beauty in front of him. Silently, you grabbed his hand in yours, squeezing reassuringly.

Coming out of his daze, he finally meets your eyes. “It’s so beautiful,” he whispers to you, ever the romantic artist.

“Let’s take photos to remember it then,” you squeeze his hand one last time before letting go to take some.

You end up swapping out to take each others, the water as your background. On your final photo of Hyunjin, a lovely older lady comes to your side and asks if you would like her to take one of you together.

You stutter over your words, eyes darting to Hyunjin, not wanting to overstep. You still were unsure where you both stood with your situation. You let out a small breath when you saw him smile and nod to you.

Reaching over to hand her your phone, you thank her before moving to stand beside your ex boyfriend. Leaving a healthy gap between you that you seemed to have been forgetting about for the last two days of your trip.

“Tsk. No. Move closer,” the lady called, sweeping her hand at you, “This is the island of love. Put your arm around her.”

You can feel the blush blaze deep on your cheeks as you lean in closer to him, feeling his strong arm around your waist as he pulls you into a very familiar photo position.

“Yeah baby, lean closer,” he whispers into your ear with a smirk very evident in his tone.

“Okay, now kiss!” you hear a shout from the lady holding your phone, and a growing ‘oooh’ from the unfortunately steady crowd of her friends watching you get your photos taken.

You for one do not have the heart to disappoint this old lady and her friends to tell her that you are in fact, exes. So you turn to look into his surprised eyes, giving him a gentle nod in reply when he tilts his head, silently asking if it’s okay.

He leans down and presses a soft kiss against your lips, blushing as you hear the whistles from the older women, feeling Hyunjin smirk against your lips. His hands steadied your frame, pulling you tight to him before dipping you back, kissing you harder at the impressed noises around you.

After righting you, you fixed your clothes the best you could, trying not to look too embarrassed at the public affection. You went to fetch your phone back from the kind lady.

But before you could walk away after thanking her, you felt a gentle grip at your wrist, pulling you back to her. “You’re very lucky to have a man that looks at you like you’re the light of the earth.” she whispers, glancing at Hyunjin over your shoulder. “You remind me of my late husband and myself. Look after him dear.”

You felt your heart stuttering as you thanked her again before walking back to Hyunjin, shaking your head when he asked you what she had said. But he let it go quickly, both of you wandering up to a higher point, stopping to sit at a relatively private bench with a stunning view of the waterfall and the forest that surrounded it.

You were both quiet for a while. Contemplative. Relishing in the once in a lifetime place that you found yourselves in.

His pinky finger rests on yours on the bench between you as he lets out a breath.

“Can I tell you something?” he asks quietly, not breaking his gaze from the view in front of you.

“Of course you can,” you answered just a softly, not sure what he could be wanting to say, turning to watch his side view.

“When we originally booked this trip, I was planning on proposing to you at this waterfall.” Your breath hitched as your eyes searched his face, seeing the small yet slightly sad smile on his face. “I know, I know. We weren’t ready for that. And I think I knew it then too. I think I just hoped that a grand gesture would fix everything that was already falling apart.” He admitted sadly, finally meeting your tearful eyes at his confession.

Taking in a large breath, he stood, holding his hand out to you, both of you walking in reflective silence back to the bus to go back to your hotel.

~

It was 2:30am. Neither of you could sleep. You had tossed and turned in the bed beside each other in quiet for almost two hours before you finally cracked.

Throwing back the sheets, you got out of your comfy bed, throwing on a hoodie and shoes before looking at Hyunjin who had just been watching you this whole time.

“I’m going on a walk, you coming?” you asked, throwing his own hoodie to him when he nods quickly in reply.

You walked together in a similar silence to that in the bedroom, occasionally knocking into each other's sides as you walked, quiet apologies accompanied the whoosh of waves in the early hours of the morning.

You finally stopped beside an empty field, moving out of the path of your walk to flop down on the plush grass. You looked up at the clear night sky, something you can only really appreciate away from the big cities.

You saw Hyunjin move out of the corner of your eye, an amused look on his face as he made his way into your eyeline.

“What are you doing?” he laughed out, eyes roaming your sprawled out body.

“Lying down,” you shrugged, looking back at him incredulously.

“And why are you lying down?” he asked, looking around him to see if there was anything else around.

Without a verbal response, you pointed past his head to the sky above you, watching the stars twinkle back at you. His amused expression shifted into one that was ten times softer, his eyes crinkling as he silently mused over how cute you were. He easily plopped down on his back beside you, watching the stars alongside you.

After a couple of minutes he broke the soft silence, “Do you remember when we used to go on walks at 3am to the river to go stargazing? We used to try to figure out which constellations were which.”

You hum in fondness, “Of course I remember, it was one of my favourite things we did together.”

Your statement now made him want to ask a question, “What was your favourite thing we did together?”

You stared up at the sky as you thought about your answer, “I liked when we went on that walk together and found all those flowers that we pressed. We were so giggly and innocent back then, those flowers were beautiful.” you answered, a content smile on your face as you remembered the memory from early on in your relationship. “What’s yours?”

“I think it was the first trip we took.” He answered, turning to look at you now instead of the sky, “The roadtrip, we had our playlist going, the breeze in our hair. I still think those were the most beautiful photos I’ve ever taken.” he trailed off, remembering the way the sunlight hit your face as he drove, the slight shadow on you as he pulled over and pulled you into the back seat, the way the light made you look like an angel in the photos he took of you, bare and beneath him.

Your heart fluttered as you remembered that trip, full of so many firsts for you both, young kids in love. Your hands grazed each other, unintentionally at first, then linked together loosely as you chatted about things you missed from being together, things you both missed about each other’s lives while you were apart.

Hyunjin had propped himself up on his elbow to face you now. Still unable to meet his gaze, you stare up at the stars to give you confidence before you ask quietly, “Do you sometimes wish that we could have gotten to this point in our lives together rather than individually?”

You finally gathered the courage to turn your head to meet his softening gaze before you continued, “We finally seem like adults rather than selfish kids trying to play house.” You finished, looking away from him nervously.

You felt his hand under your chin, gently pulling you back to look at him.

Before the ring, before the coat,

there were a thousand little things.

Limited edition sneakers that vanished from shelves in seconds — but somehow landed at her door, no receipt, no note, only the faintest scent of his cologne lingering on the box.

A first edition poetry book she’d once brushed her fingers over in a dusty Paris stall — slipped onto her desk like a secret, bound in velvet, her name handwritten inside the cover.

Fresh flowers every Friday — never the forced perfection of roses, but wild, tangled stems like the ones she always lingered over at the street markets, chaotic and soft and alive.

A signed vinyl from her favorite band — though she’d never mentioned it aloud, only ever hummed a few verses under her breath while working.

Tiny velvet boxes tucked into the lining of her suitcase when she traveled — each cradling delicate jewelry that whispered against her skin like a private kiss.

Cashmere sweaters in muted colors, the kind that seemed to melt against her body, always fitting her too perfectly to be coincidence.

Matching mugs after a single offhand comment — because “coffee tastes better when we drink from the same cup.”

And the notes.

The notes tucked everywhere.

In her sketchbook.

In the pages of her planner.

In the back pocket of her jeans.

Eat well. Rest. You are loved.

He never asked for thanks.

Never expected anything back.

He just gave.

And gave.

And gave.

Until loving her was no longer something Seungmin did, it was something he was.

───── ୨ৎ ─────

The ring came first.

A delicate band of white gold, cold and precise, sliding onto her finger with the effortless certainty of something that had always belonged there.

No grand confession.

No speeches.

No fireworks.

Just Seungmin, sprawled lazily on the sofa in a worn gray hoodie, tapping idly at his phone, voice low and distracted:

“Come here.”

She did — barefoot, sleep-heavy, the hem of his old T-shirt brushing her thighs.

He caught her wrist, pulled her closer, thumbed the ring onto her finger with a slow, almost absent-minded care.

“Needed everyone to know you’re mine,” he murmured, not even looking up.

She stared at the band — thin, heavy with diamonds, an unmistakable signature of wealth and intimacy — and something in her chest cracked open.

She hadn’t asked.

Hadn’t needed to.

He simply knew.

“Thank you, Minnie,” she whispered, dazed.

He smiled — lazy, dangerous — and tugged her down onto his lap like it was nothing.

“Good girl.”

───── ୨ৎ ─────

The Burberry came next.

Not just any trench coat.

Custom-tailored in London.

Soft tan suede that caught the light like honey, stitched inside with a muted plaid, a luxury secret meant for no one else to see but him.

It arrived at her studio sealed in a heavy garment bag, a handwritten note folded into the pocket:

“Don’t forget to take care of yourself too, my pretty artist. Love, your biggest fan.”

She wore it for him — and only the coat.

Bare beneath the suede, skin kissed pink by the evening light filtering through the windows.

When Seungmin walked in, he didn’t speak.

Didn’t blink.

Just set the coffee he brought onto the table with mechanical precision and stalked toward her.

His fingers — deceptively gentle — found the belt first.

Loosened it with one slow pull.

Pushed the fabric open, revealing her inch by inch, like he was unwrapping something breakable.

His voice came low, nearly unrecognizable.

“You’re not allowed to tease if you can’t handle the consequences, princess.”

She tried to answer.

Tried to be coy.

But he had her caged against the table before a word left her mouth, the coat puddling around her hips, his hand sliding under to cup the soft heat of her, bare and wet and already trembling.

“Messy little thing,” he muttered against the delicate shell of her ear, fingers slipping between her folds, cruelly light.

“All worked up just from wearing what I bought you?”

She whimpered — helpless, desperate.

Seungmin only smiled, slow and sharp and certain.

───── ୨ৎ ─────

The salon was a dream in gold and velvet.

Quiet, cloistered, hidden high above the noise of Paris.

A room only a handful of names would ever see.

Bathed in the soft shimmer of chandelier light, surrounded by display cases that held entire kingdoms in a single velvet box.

She stood in her new Heels on the thick carpet, wearing in the Burberry dress she got a few days ago, Seungmin’s jacket — oversized, drowning her, his scent clinging to every thread.

And behind her, Seungmin.

Solid. Warm.

His hands already roaming under the fabric, tracing the bare curve of her waist.

“You deserve all of it,” he murmured against her ear, voice a low, reverent rasp.

“Pick anything, baby. Everything.”

She opened her mouth to protest — to say it was too much, too outrageous —

But he was bunching up her dress, already sliding inside her with a slow, claiming thrust, stealing the breath from her lungs.

“Point,” he said, voice rough with control.

She whimpered, balancing herself against the cool glass of the nearest case, knees shaking.

The stretch of him was almost too much, slow and deliberate, designed to make her mind unravel.

“I c-can’t,” she gasped.

Another roll of his hips — patient, devastating.

“You can,” Seungmin growled, nipping at the shell of her ear.

“You will. That’s an order.”

Trembling, she lifted a hand — barely able to focus through the haze of him — and pointed to a delicate tiara nestled in silk.

Diamonds like crushed stars, curling into the shape of laurel leaves.

Seungmin hummed approvingly, hips grinding deep into hers.

“Good girl.”

He signaled with a glance — no words needed — and somewhere behind them, the silent, discreet attendant slipped away to prepare the piece.

The rhythm of his thrusts was mercilessly slow — dragging every heartbeat out into an eternity —

but he never stopped.

Never let her escape the feeling of being filled, owned, adored.

“More,” he whispered.

She shuddered, gasping as he thrust deeper.

“More, baby. I want you spoiled until you forget how to say no.”

Her hand shook as she pointed again —

A necklace of pink sapphires, delicate as a vine.

A ring with a solitary emerald the color of spring rain.

A pair of earrings so intricate they looked spun by spiders from silver moonlight.

Each time, a reward — a deeper push, a ragged praise against her skin.

“That’s it,” Seungmin breathed, voice cracked open with emotion.

“That’s my girl. My spoiled, perfect thing.”

Her moans tangled with the hush of the salon, the shimmering quiet of obscene wealth around them.

She could barely stay upright, slick and trembling against the glass, but he held her there — one hand splayed over her stomach, the other sliding between her thighs, coaxing her higher.

“You deserve it,” he whispered, almost desperate now.

“Deserve everything in this room. Deserve the fucking world.”

When she finally broke — gasping his name, stars bursting behind her eyelids — Seungmin caught her in his arms, steady and unshakable.

He stayed buried deep inside her, rocking her through every aftershock, pressing kisses into her hair.

Only when she could breathe again did he lift her chin with a gentle finger, forcing her dazed eyes to meet his.

“You get everything you pointed at,” he said simply.

“And next time —”

He kissed her, slow and devastating.

“— you’ll ask for more.”

And she knew, with a dizzy, aching certainty —

It had never been about the jewelry.

Never about the price tags or the diamonds.

It was about him.

The way he worshiped her with his hands, his body, his soul.

The way he made her believe she was worth all the treasures of the earth.

The way, in a gilded room full of untouchable riches,

she would always be the most priceless thing in his world.

───── ୨ৎ ─────

Studio nights became different after that.

She’d curl up in the corner, sketching, pretending not to watch him —

but always, always feeling the weight of his gaze settle over her, heavy and possessive.

Later, he would press her into the couch, mouth hot and unhurried against her skin, stripping her down to nothing but gasps and trembling hands.

He never rushed.

Seungmin never rushed.

He licked into her slowly, like he had all the time in the world, teasing the sensitive places with maddening flicks of his tongue, dragging sweet, broken sounds from her lips.

“You taste even sweeter when you’re spoiled rotten,” he breathed against her, lapping at her until her thighs shook around his shoulders.

“Bet you don’t even realize how wet you get when you know you’re mine.”

She sobbed, writhing helplessly, and he only chuckled low in his throat — wicked, adoring — before pushing her over the edge with a single rough swipe of his tongue.

───── ୨ৎ ─────

Later still, when she tried to ride him — all messy kisses and trembling thighs — Seungmin caught her hips with brutal tenderness.

“Slow,” he ordered against her mouth, dragging her down on him inch by devastating inch.

“You’re gonna feel every second of it, princess.”

Tears blurred her vision, overwhelmed —

and Seungmin just smiled, soft and cruel, brushing them away with the pad of his thumb.

“That’s it.

Let me ruin you properly.”

When she broke apart, clutching at him, he held her right there, buried deep inside, cradling her through every aftershock, whispering against her hair:

“My pretty little artist.

Made just for me to love.”

───── ୨ৎ ─────

And when she fell asleep on his chest —

her fingers tangled in the Burberry coat thrown over them like a second skin —

Seungmin only kissed the top of her head and closed his eyes.

Because she gave him what no money could buy.

No brand could match.

No amount of luxury could counterfeit.

She gave him loyalty.

She gave him tenderness.

She gave him a home.

And that?

That was enough.

More than enough.

It was why he spoiled her.

Why he would keep spoiling her.

Why he would tear down the whole world if it ever dared to touch her.

Because she was his girl.

Because she was his peace.

Because in a life full of noise and endless want

she was the only thing he ever truly needed.