My library

You gasp out a moan as two of Yeosang's fingers easily slip past your entrance, your heat flaring open for him like the petals of a blooming flower. Yeosang watches your folds part, entranced, determined to commit this beautiful sight to memory before diving back in. He pumps his fingers slowly at first, learning the contour of your inner walls, while his mouth makes its way back to your clit. Wooyoung continues his teasing touches, his lips joining the fray, tracing the curve of your neck down to your shoulder. You feel his teeth scrape the skin between open mouthed kisses, and you whine in pleasure at this. Yeosang takes notice of the way you clench around his fingers, looking up to see what made you react.

"Yea, she likes it a little rough." Wooyoung chuckles, smirking down at Yeosang with a knowing stare, prompting him to be rougher himself.

"Does she?" A mischievous grin lifts Yeosang's lips, and he turns to you as he asks, "So, would you be into something like this?"

His gaze never leaves yours as he latches his lips onto your inner thigh, sucking on the sensitive skin, all while his fingertips press against your sweet spot. You gasp at this, arching up into the sensations, grabbing hold of his hair. The tingling titillation from his lips upon your sensitive flesh, coupled with the pulsing bursts of pleasure from his fingers, sets your entire body alight with bliss, making you squirm on Wooyoung's lap. Your breath quickens, heart racing so fast you can hear its quick tempo in your ears. Yeosang watches you come apart right in front of him, the way your thighs tremble as he sucks on different spots, the way your hips buck and undulate into his hand in response through his thrusting fingers. He's completely entranced by the sight of you losing yourself like this, by the act of giving you this much pleasure, has his cock throbbing in his pants.

But that's not enough for Wooyoung, you lets his tongue trail over the side of your neck before instructing you to, "You should use your words baby. How else is he gonna know how to make you feel good?"

"I like it." You nod emphatically between pathetic pants, arching against him, "Please, keep doing that."

"With pleasure." Yeosang smirks, keeping up his minstrations.

"If you keep this up, you're gonna make her cum." Wooyoung hums, fondling your breasts. He notices all the telltale signs of your impeding orgasm, the way your chest heaves, the way you writhe on his lap, the way your hips jump and jolt erratically to chase that mounting pleasure.

"Please Yeosang." You moan his name and Yeosang swears he almost cums right then and there. With a rough groan, he dives back in between your legs, lips latching onto your clit and tongue quickly roving over the sensitive bud. That pressure builds at a rapid pace, gathering tightly in the pit of your belly, before springing forth in the form of an all encompassing orgasm. You arch sharply, wanton moans spilling from your parted lips as you cum on Yeosang's fingers. You clutch his hair as Wooyoung clutches your boobs, adding to your pleasure with pinpricks of pain and biting down on your neck. Your eyes roll back at the added sensations, clenching tighter around Yeosang's fingers, your release spilling onto his thrusting digits.

Yeosang is quick to lick up your release, greedily taking in your taste. You shudder as his tongue roves over your sensitive, quivering folds, the overstimulation as overwhelming as it is enticing. A wicked smile lifts Wooyoung's lips at the sight of you being so spent, yet still so eager for more. His hands move down over your hips, his mouth continuing to trace kisses and bites over your neck and shoulder, carefully bringing you back down from your high.

With a series of deep breaths, Yeosang pulls back, licking his lips to lap up the last of your release, "Fuck she tastes amazing."

"Oh I know." Wooyoung chuckles, resting his chin on your shoulder, "Aren't you glad I invited you?"

"I sure am." Yeosang nods, one of his hands reaching down between his legs to ease some of the tension.

"Well, our little celebration doesn't have to be over yet." Wooyoung hums, turning his gaze to you, "What do you think baby? Do you think you're up for another round? Maybe bring San in for a turn, have him show Yeosang some of his tricks too?"

San, who had been watching from the front seat, perks up at this. He turns from the rear view mirror to face you directly, eyes dark with pure lust. There's no doubt he's just as worked up as the other two men, and you feel arousal flood your centre at the thought of all three of them pleasuring you.

"Let's do it." You nod, much to everyone's delight. San climbs into the backseat, shoving the makeshift partition curtain aside and stepping into the golden light. His lips are on yours instantly, kissing you passionately, his hands holding your face. Crooking his fingers, Wooyoung prompts Yeosang to sit up with a come hither motion, before licking the taste of your release from his tongue.

"Wanna taste you again." Yeosang murmurs right in your ear, making you shudder in excitement.

"You'll have to get in line." San is quick to sink to his knees, eyeing the other man, "You already had a turn, and I've been waiting all fucking day for this."

"Boys boys, there's enough of her to go around. Isn't that right baby?" You feel the curve of Wooyoung's sly smile against the corner of your lips, warmth blooming on your cheeks. San and Yeosang's intensely eager gazes win you over almost instantly, and you already feel arousal pooling between your legs again. So you nod, leaning back against Wooyoung's chest, spreading your legs even wider.

You gasp out a whine when you feel two fingers slip between your legs, and you instantly arch into Wooyoung's hand. He teases you with fleeting touches, both of them following the hypnotic motion of his fingertips rubbing circling your clit.

"You want more of her? Then you'll have to share." Wooyoung slyly instructs, his cheek pressed against the curve of your neck, "Think you can do that."

“Uh… sure,” you answer, looking apologetically at your surprised but not overly concerned friends and Doyoung as you slide off his lap. “I’ll be right back.”

Jeongguk waits until he sees you near him, and then you’re following someone outside for the second time that night. Your thoughts are all over the place. What does he want to talk about? What did Wendy say to him? 

You can’t deny that your heart skips a beat, being in his presence. Even more so when he holds the door open for you, and you very well could simply reach out and touch him. Maybe his chest, surely warm and firm even through his black t-shirt, or his strong and capable arms.

Ever since you first met him, you’ve felt an insane pull to him, and it’s not much better now. It’s like it’s twice as intense, like your longing for him only increases it, and you have to stop yourself from reaching for him. It would feel so nice, though, to warm your cold hands against his skin, run them up his chest and down his back underneath his shirt.

When outside, he keeps walking until you’re at the corner of the building where he turns to you but doesn’t immediately say anything. You’d almost forgotten how it feels to be in his presence, to have him look down at you in front of him. 

“So… what did you want to talk about?” you ask, your voice sounding more confused than you’ve started to feel. After all, how many topics could he choose between?

“How are you?”

You blink, unsure if that’s what he really wanted to ask but feeling like you don’t want to push it. “I’m… good. How are you?”

“I’m alright. Been missing you.”

You take on a slightly skeptical expression, feeling like his warm but slightly careful words don’t really belong between the two of you, at least not from his side.

“You didn’t want me there, Jeongguk,” you remind him, unable to keep the frustration from leaking through your words. “You didn’t even tell me you had feelings for someone before you made the decision.”

In turn, his voice turns frustrated too, although less angry. “Yeah, cause I overheard you, and it fucking broke my heart. I loved you, but I was nothing to you, just a porn star.”

“What?” Your mind halts, trying to understand what he’s trying to say. “Jeongguk, you were the only reason I stayed as long as I did; I already told you that.”

“Then why would you tell Wendy you’d never date someone like me? You don’t think I’m good enough for you.”

You’re transported back to the last day you spent on ‘good’ terms. 

You zip up your jacket, then meet Wendy’s eyes sadly. “I do like him, I think he’s… great and really sweet, but… he’s a porn star, Wendy.”

Wendy bites her lip looking at you like she understands. 

“I just… can’t. Not a porn star.”

“I get it, I just think it’s a shame,” she says, lifting her bag to reveal a small box on the floor.

“Oh, aren’t those Jeongguk’s?” you say, bending down to pick it up, “I’m pretty sure these are his earbuds.”

“You turned back for your earbuds, didn’t you?” you conclude after putting the pieces together.

Jeongguk looks sad and disappointed, his frustration turned low. “Yeah. I thought we had… something. But how could I continue to work with you when you not only didn’t feel remotely the same as I did, but I would never be good enough for you because of my profession?”

You’re not surprised he took what he heard the way he did; after all, not everything was said out loud and much of the conversation was contextual. It just wasn’t meant for him to hear, and you hadn’t thought he had.

“I didn’t look down on you…” you try to explain, finally realizing why he did what he did. Somewhere in the back of your mind is also the fact that he just confessed to liking you. Or at least back then.

”Forget about it. It’s fine. I get it, it’s not for everyone, I was just hurt–”

“–I’m a stubborn, insecure bitch, alright? That’s why I didn’t tell you I liked you. You’re practically perfect; you’re sweet and kind and funny, and insanely hot, and you fuck other hot people for a living. How would I handle that? I couldn’t, so I never said anything.”

It’s his turn to have a realization, and for a moment, he looks to be searching for words.

Finally, he regains his thoughts, and as he takes a step closer, you notice the change in atmosphere. The increasing intensity brewing in his eyes is slow and gradual but strong like a tidal wave. 

“That guy…? Are you with him?” he asks, and his voice is lower than mere moments ago.

It’s worse now, the heat of his body pulling you in like the strongest magnet. “No,” you breathe. “And you’re not with Joy?”

He shakes his head. “I lied.”

Slowly, he lifts his hand to run his fingers softly along your jaw, keeping them there as he steps so close you can smell his cologne. “If you don’t kiss me now, I–”

Of course, you want to. You want and you wish and you desire, and maybe you would’ve even if you were entirely sober, but the relatively small amount of alcohol in your system makes it an easier decision. Perhaps it’s not the best decision, but you physically can’t stop yourself, knowing that he wants you too.

Swiftly, you grab his cap, putting it on your own head but backward, and you can confidently say that nothing has felt as right or as natural as throwing your arms around Jeongguk’s neck, and from the tips of your toes, connecting your lips to his.

You close your eyes, and you enjoy the softness of his lips, the taste of him, and the feeling of his arms pulling you closer by your waist. You just can’t get enough of him, wanting more and more and more. You let one of your hands venture below his shirt and up his toned stomach, pulling at his hair with the other as you tilt your head to get a better angle. Jeongguk groans, moving you backward against the brick wall until your back hits it. It’s an urgent kiss, lips moving hastily like you’ve been waiting for something for far too long or like you’re running out of time. 

Biting his bottom lip, you pull back half an inch. His chest moves with every breath against you, and the audible breath he lets out is so desperate and horny you’re not sure what to do with yourself.

You let go, laughing giddily, both in relief and surprise, before going right back to kissing him. This time, he urges your lips apart with his tongue, licking into your mouth. Unsurprisingly, he tastes a little of beer and some other alcoholic beverage, or maybe that’s also from you. Moving his hand, he pulls you flush against him by your waist.

“My place?” he asks after pulling away breathless, his lips ghosting the corner of your mouth. “It’s not far, like a six minute walk. Four if we hurry.”

You smile wide, face flushed and lips surely already swollen. When you peer up at him, still with your arms around his neck, you really see what you missed so much since you quit. Dark, almost black eyes, honeyed skin, the dark and defined eyebrows, and the most attractive nose. 

“Yes, but I’m like a ten second power walk away from getting blisters from these shoes just so you know.”

“Okay, there are, like, three options you can choose from,” he informs cheekily, smiling down at you in a way that has goosebumps rising on your skin. “Either I carry you, you power through and have me bandage you up later, or I fuck you in the next alleyway over.”

Heat spreads through your body, and your heart is going haywire as you try to keep your cool.

“How romantic.”

“I don’t care, I only need you.”

“Do you?” you tease, running a hand down his chest and toward his pants. After leaning sideways to peer behind him and confirm you’re alone, you dip your hand beneath the waistband of both his jeans and underwear.

He breathes a shaky breath when you touch him. Like always, he’s warm, and he’s big, and although he’s not rock solid, he’s definitely… firm. You run your thumb over the head, watching with a smile as Jeongguk’s heavy-lidded eyes stare you down.

“Continue like that and I’ll have to bend you over something right here.”

You gaze up at him somewhat innocently, jerking even slower than you used to. “I’d like to see you try.”

“Fuck. Can we go?” he almost pleads, shutting his eyes in pleasure and leaning his forehead against the side of your head. “I’m about to go crazy.”

You let go of him, pulling your hand out of his pants and nodding eagerly. God knows you’re just as affected as he is. Sure, continuing to tease him outside a bar like this sounds fun, but it’s nothing compared to the thought of having all of him, sweating above you, underneath you, inside you…

“I need to grab my jacket and bag.”

“I… need my jacket as well.”

Wiping your mouth and running your fingers underneath your eyes in case of any makeup smudges, you step back. “How do I look? I gotta look believable when I lie about going home because I don’t feel too good or something.”

“Heart-breakingly gorgeous,” he grins, lifting his hand to reclaim the cap you’d forgotten was on your head. He puts it on himself, adjusting it slightly. “What about me?”

Licking your lips, you inspect him briefly. Sure, his face looks a little bit flushed but not abnormally so after a night out. Your heart is beating way too fast, and you feel… high. 

There just isn’t anyone as attractive to you, no one you want more. 

“Stupidly hot. Like someone I’d almost let bend me over something and fuck me in an alleyway.”

He laughs, and you continue, “Maybe it’s the cap. You know I love it when you wear caps.”

“I know,” he grins.

Jeongguk surprises you by pulling you into him by your waist quickly, tilting his head to not poke you with the cap, and noses at your ear. “Be quick.”

Goosebumps rise on your entire body again, and when he lets go, you nod. “Meet back here in a minute or two?”

“Yeah.”

Body on fire from the inside, you search your brain for the best excuse. It’s not that you’d be ashamed of sleeping with a porn star but you feel like a bad friend for ditching your company, even though hanging out is a common occurrence and you spent time together after work only a few days ago. 

The booth is chatting wildly about something when you return, and so you approach quietly, not wanting everyone’s eyes on you for your performance.

Lisa, who’s on the far end of one side, and Doyoung, who’s at the other side, of course notice your return, their eyes watching you curiously. 

Doing your best to appear serious, maybe even a little… sad, or maybe disappointed, you keep your voice low. “I’ve gotta go. It seems me and him have a lot to talk about.”

“Oh?” Lisa raises her eyebrows, “You sure? He’s a good guy, right?”

“Yeah,” you nod assuringly because Jeongguk is definitely one of the good guys. “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine, we just need to… sort out some stuff as to why I quit and such.”

“Just call if you need anything,” Doyoung informs earnestly.

Once again, you nod, thankful to have good friends, maybe even better friends than you deserve tonight. On your way back out, your denim jacket unbuttoned over your shirt and with your bag in hand, you feel bad. It’s mostly for lying at this point, but the feeling is soon forgotten when you spot Jeongguk leaning against the wall after you’ve stepped outside. He’s wearing a jacket of his own, a black, oversized bomber jacket.

“Hi,” you smile, feeling almost giddy.

“Hey,” he returns, quick to push off the wall and look around. “What did you tell them?”

“That I left with you to talk everything out. Think they bought it. You?”

“The same, basically.”

“Okay…”

Half a second later, he’s approaching you quickly, grabbing your hand in his, “Come on, we should hurry.”

You laugh, letting him pull you with him. It’s not like you want it any less than he does. “Or what?”

He looks both ways before pulling you behind him across the street.

“Well, if I don’t have you in, say, ten minutes or so…”

A good kind of thrilling chill runs down your spine, and you quicken your step. “We’ll have to hurry then. This way?”

He confirms with a nod, and you walk in front of him, soon reaching another, deserted crosswalk and traffic light.

Before you can press the button, Jeongguk pulls you back by your hand, and somehow and very smoothly, spins you around so that you’re once again facing the traffic light.

However, your arm is wrapped across your stomach, and your back is pressed against his front. You hear the sound of the button being pushed next to you, and you feel him press himself even further into you. 

With no one around, you close your eyes, reveling in the quiet breath that ghosts your ear. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this.”

The sound of a car nearing has him untwirling you to face him, still holding your hand. The black car passes, but your moment alone is over as voices approach from behind. Peering behind him, you spot a group of young people, a lot more inebriated than you, closing in. The light turns green, and you start to cross.

Despite the ‘hurry’ you’re in, the group consisting of around seven people are faster, and after crossing the street, Jeongguk pulls you to the side with him to let the unruly party-goers pass.

You stand beside him, innocently placing your palm on his stomach while you watch the people–who look like they’re celebrating someone’s birthday–walk past you along the main street. You can’t help yourself, moving your hand in under his shirt instead and feeling his warm skin and defined muscles. 

“And you don’t think I’ve wanted you, or what?”

“I can’t answer that,” he says, groaning when you pinch his left nipple slightly.

“What? You said it yourself, that you thought–knew–we had something. Of course, I wanted you.”

“Mhm,” is all he says when you look up at him, bewildered.

“What is it that you’re not telling me? I’ll pinch harder if you don’t tell me. I’ll make you suffer.”

Jeongguk laughs at your warning, “You know I’m highkey into that, though.”

You’re about to deliver a double handed attack on his chest when he grabs both of your hands. You’re forced to follow when he starts to back away into a side street. 

“Where are we going? I thought it was that way?”

“It is, I just..” he positions you with your back against the wall of a building whose corner you just rounded, and he steps closer, letting go of your hands in order to push his body even closer to you. “I have a question.”

You feel his hands rest on your hips, and he wedges one knee in between your legs. You drop your bag, and it ends up on the pavement beside your feet with a low thud.

“Okay.”

“The contract. Your preferences. Is that… what…”

It’s in the way he licks his lips but still looks down at you in earnest. You’ve made out, but otherwise, it’s really only been you touching him. 

You take a second to collect your words, smiling as you explain. “I wasn’t sure when I started, and I didn’t change anything because if you were to touch me, I think I would’ve gone insane.”

“I mean… I definitely suspect they would’ve had to physically pull me away from you if you would’ve let me touch you, so maybe it was for the best. I would’ve lived between your thighs.”

Another wave of heat spreads through your body as you image the vision of him between your legs, both fucking you and eating you out. You’ve seen him do both acts countless times, have heard the sounds of pleasure echoing through the different sets.

One of his hands inches down from your hip to where the front pocket of your jeans ends. “So my question, I guess, is… what about now?”

You can barely think, but you know from the way he still looks so genuinely patient that he’s not doing anything else if you’re not clear with him. 

Despite never having any problems with it before and making it pretty clear he wanted to sleep with you, you feel bad for not asking him before putting your hand down his pants earlier.  

“Disregard them. I don’t want to be choked or intentionally hurt, and I’m not into anal, but besides that, if it’s not too crazy, do it.”

“Of course. Tell me if you’re ever uncomfortable.”

You nod your head, and he turns his, looking around. The street is empty, and so he returns his attention to you, continuing to move his hand. Just like you expected, he runs it directly to your crotch, tracing the middle seam in your jeans. Your hands move by themselves to grip at his shirt, and when he puts pressure right on your clit, your knees nearly buckle and you gasp.

“Oh my God,” he breathes at your reaction, licking his lips hungrily. Instantly spreading your legs wider with his knee, he repeats the action but faster, seemingly drunk on your body’s response. The overwhelming pleasure has you leaning your head back against the wall, your eyes closing and your mouth opening as you breathe faster.

“Jeongguk…” you moan quietly. He’s everything you see, hear, feel. 

“Fuck. You’re so responsive,” he groans, “How are you real? We should stop, we need to stop. I’d love to make you come in your pants, but I think I’d come in my pants too.”

Slowly, he stops and moves his hand back to your hip, clearly very affected. “I just know you’re wet. So soaked and turned on that anything I’d line up would sink right in. I bet you could even take my cock without any sort of prep.”

“You’re kind of a monster, though,” you say, fisting his shirt in your hand.

He chuckles, “I’m not that big. Just slightly above average.”

“Slightly above average for male porn stars. Who, naturally, are already above average. I don’t think anyone could take anything that size without prep.”

He rolls his eyes, “I was trying to dirty talk; of course I’m not just gonna shove it in. We’ll do it at your pace.”

“In that case, I probably am wet enough that it’ll slide just in,” you say, continuing his dirty talk. “Warm and wet, just for you.”

Almost like he can’t control it, his hand starts inching back down slowly, “And I bet you taste divine, like absolute heaven, fuck–we need to hurry.”

Once again removing his hand, he now takes a step back, grabbing your hands and pulling you away from the wall. What you don’t quite expect him to do is let go of you and bend down to throw you over his shoulder, grabbing your bag too.

“Jeongguk?!”

“I don’t want you to get blisters, but don’t worry, we’re not too far away now.”

You have an inkling that maybe he was worried your legs wouldn’t carry you, which… they would, but you would’ve definitely needed a few seconds to collect yourself.

The rest of the journey takes a little more than a minute–at least according to your half-sober calculations. Jeongguk can’t keep his hands off of you, patting both your ass and your thighs and making you giggle.

Occasionally, you pass some people, but you assume the reason no one is stopping him to check on you is due to your regular laughter. You, however, don’t even notice most of them before you see legs somewhere in your peripherals.

When you’re finally let down, you’re already inside the dark hallway of Jeongguk’s apartment. You brush the hair out of your eyes, instantly coming face to face with the man himself, who cages you in against the wall. It’s either one of his favorite things to do or he just associates you with the position; after all, it’s how you spent a lot of time on set.

He throws away his cap and sheds his jacket into a pile on the floor before he helps you out of yours, which then meets a similar fate.

“You’ve seen me naked so many times,” he murmurs, tugging a little on the neckline of your shirt.

“Probably more naked than clothed.”

“Exactly. So I think it’s only fair…”

“Then undress me,” you quip, moving away to back into the rest of the apartment with his hand held loosely in yours. “Where’s your bedroom?”

“Second to the right. You know, I think this is the best day of my life.”

Grinning, you lead him into the room, tearing your eyes away from his to briefly take in your new surroundings. The room is large, and there’s a big bed against one of the white-painted walls. It’s clean, but you can tell Jeongguk isn’t a neat freak because the duvet is pulled up somewhat haphazardly with no bedspread in sight, there’s a few items of clothing hanging over a dark blue loveseat in the corner, and a gaming console and a few game cases lie on the floor underneath the huge wall-mounted TV. 

“Adult film business pays well, I see?”

When you turn your attention back to him, he’s still watching you, shrugging halfheartedly. “I’ve got what I need. Now, at least.”

“How romantic,” you repeat your words from earlier. 

Jeongguk chuckles, helping you out of your shirt and tossing it in the direction of the loveseat. Immediately, you tug on his black t-shirt as well, and he yanks it over his head in a swift motion, dropping it to the floor. 

“I’d consider myself a romantic guy, yeah.”

You roll your eyes, letting him reach behind you to unhook your black lace bra, something he does effortlessly and with one hand. The back of your knees then hit the edge of his bed, and you go down.

“You’re even better than how I imagined you,” he swears, his hungry eyes on the way your tits bounce.

“You’ve imagined me naked?” you tease, crawling higher up on the bed.

He follows you, climbing onto the bed to stand on all fours above you. When you reach a hand out, touching his sternum, he sits back, seemingly wanting to take in the sight of you properly.

“I think you should strip for me,” you propose cheekily, making Jeongguk raise his eyebrow.

“Strip? I’m a porn star, not a stripper.”

“If I remember correctly, you played a stripper like a year ago. I know you can dance.”

“I promise I’ll dance for you next time, but the more urgent stripping is yours to do.”

You roll your eyes jokingly again, to which Jeongguk smirks, leaning down to kiss you passionately. 

Wrapping your arms around him, you tangle your fingers in the silver chain he wears around his neck. He continues to kiss you, but moves from your mouth to your jaw and then your neck. 

It’s addictive, the warmth of him against your skin, and you’re so desperate to have him close, wanting to feel every little part of him. His warm mouth on your pulse point has goosebumps rising on your body.

Continuing his journey, he kisses his way down to your breasts, groaning before enveloping your right nipple in his mouth. You moan quietly, moving a hand to his hair and keeping the other on his back.

He’s gentle in the way he kisses, sucks and bites on your nipple, using his other hand to pinch your left one between his fingers.

Way too soon, he lets go, and you open your eyes to see him looking down at you, just an inch or two away.

“You can’t leave any marks on me,” he reminds softly, and you blink, realizing your hold on his back caused your nails to form those half-moon marks on his skin.

You’re quick to let go, “Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” he smiles reassuringly, lowering his head and his main focus to your other breast, placing small kisses around your left nipple. “You know, if it were up to me, I’d let you leave all the marks.”

“Yeah,” you agree quietly, saddened by the reminder that he’s not yours. Even if he might want to be, which you’re not entirely sure of, you can’t make him yours. You focus on the feeling of his soft hair between your fingers.

Jeongguk doesn’t seem to notice, and you don’t dwell on it too long as he unbuttons your jeans.

“Can I?” he stops to wonder, gazing up at you.

“Go ahead,” you nod, and he hooks his fingers into the belt loops, pulling them down your legs.

“To actually answer your question, of course, I’ve imagined you naked. I’ve imagined you on set, fucking you instead of them, I’ve imagined you at home, here in my bed, letting me do whatever I want to you.”

His smirk has you pulling a little on his hair. “Well, you obviously don’t know me very well if you think I’d just ‘let you do whatever you want to me.’”

“I know.”

With your jeans removed, you’re left in nothing but a matching, black lace thong. “In fact, I think I remember saying that someone should fuck the brat out of you, and it looks like it might have to be me.”

You let go of his hair and lift your feet as he then slides your panties down your legs. Looking hypnotized, Jeongguk traces his fingers across your knees and licks his lips. 

“I mean, you can try. But right now, I gotta taste you before I go insane,” he says, putting his hands on your raised knees, intending on spreading them for his eyes.

“Nuh uh,” you object, scooting higher up on his bed and keeping your legs closed. “Not with that attitude.”

Jeongguk’s eyes go big and round, and it almost makes you laugh. 

You definitely feel desired, holding so much power in your hands. “You want to?”

“In this moment? More than anything in the world,” he admits in what sounds like pure honesty.

The smile that spreads across your lips is almost wicked. “Then you’ll have to follow my orders.”

“You’re evil,” he lets out, sounding almost like a whine, “what do I have to do?”

You laugh at his misery, trying to think of a plan and settling on one with a smirk. “I need you to answer a question first.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“How close?”

He looks at you, bewildered. “As close as possible?” 

“Hm, okay. You might regret that. Stand.”

Obeying without much thought, Jeongguk stands up, watching you intently and waiting for his next instructions. You take a second to admire him in the low light, no shirt and his jeans hanging low on his hips. He looks so warm, and you feel like you definitely won’t have the patience to tease him too much because you need his body against yours or you’ll freeze.

Your eyes trail upward, over his muscular chest to his arms and the veins that run across them. His tattoos look much darker in the low light, but you know them like the back of your hand anyway.

The silver chain around his neck is on the shorter side, begging for you to pull him in by. There’s a confident smile on his face, as he watches you check him out. Maybe you’ll definitely also pull him in by his hair.

If only he knew exactly how goddamn unbelievably wet you are for him, and the kind of absolute need and desire you feel for him. It’s a thrill and a goddamn confidence boost to know that it’s you having him follow orders just for the chance to pleasure you. It’s you he wants to be with, at least physically and at least in this moment.

“I want you to kneel by the end of the bed.”

Wordlessly, he sinks to his knees, keeping eye contact with you where you sit higher up on the bed, your legs still closed for him.

“Before I say so, you can not touch.”

He doesn’t have time to say anything before you slowly open your legs, and you almost laugh at how quickly his attention is turned from your face to your wet pussy.

To taunt him, you hold your middle finger in the air and then lower it to slowly and lightly run it up your slit. It feels good, the touch of your finger is almost electric, and the anticipation of having him somewhere right there is fueling your heartbeat all by itself.

Miserable, Jeongguk rests his cheek defeatedly against the bed. “I want you,” he complains.

“You’re a brat, though,” you remind, making a show out of touching yourself oh so slowly.

“I’m not. I’m good. I’m so good for you.”

“In the moment, yeah. Do you remember what your answer was?”

His eyes flicker to yours, and seeing the smug smile on your lips, he groans in what sounds like pain.

You close your legs, and Jeongguk sits up straighter, watching as you crawl toward him, stopping to sit in front of him with your legs to the right of him and your weight supported by your left arm.

“Remember, no touching.”

And so you swing your left leg over his head, resting both legs on his shoulders.

Immediately, he grabs your thighs, seemingly holding on for dear life. Since you technically touched him first, you guess you’ll allow it. “You’re the devil,” he breathes, eyes fixated on your sex and how it’s dripping for him just inches away. “I can’t believe you’re doing this to a poor, desperate man.”

Testing the waters, he blows on your cunt, but you do your best to ignore the sensation that has goosebumps rising on your arms. Instead, you put your finger right back, showing him just how you like your pussy touched. A moan slips from your lips as you circle your clit, breaths growing heavy when you instead lower your finger to slowly push inside.

“Because I want you to surrender.”

Suddenly grabbing your hand, Jeongguk holds it in the air and watches the wetness glint on your finger. He licks his lips, using his hand to guide your finger into his mouth.

But you’re not letting him, pulling your hand back from his open and awaiting mouth. “Uh uh.”

“Do you not want me to eat you out until you come? Stuff you full of my fingers? My cock?” he questions, eyes lowering to practically devour what’s in front of his face. 

“Of course, I do,” you admit honestly, even the thought making your head spin, “but first you–”

Despite boasting about the amount of sub roles he’s done, Jeongguk is not the best sub, evident by the way he suddenly pulls you closer toward him and dives face first into your pussy. You shriek, caught by surprise and then immediately overwhelmed by pleasure as he eats the hell out of you.

“Oh fuck,” you moan shakily, your hips moving by their own accord as he flicks his tongue over your clit.

“I’ll make you come so hard for doing that to me,” he pauses for a brief second to warn, as if that’s a punishment for you.

You shut your eyes tightly, arching your back off the bed as he continues french kissing your cunt. 

“How many times am I going to make you come tonight?” he wonders, his words strained. While he talks, you feel him put an intense pressure on your clit with his finger and slowly sink another into you. “Five is too little, but eight seems like overkill, at least tonight. Maybe next time. So, somewhere in between? Should we start at six? I want you to wake up tomorrow, after all.”

For a few seconds, you let him go back to desperately eating you out, slowly pumping his middle finger in and out of you, but his cheeky words and attitude have you thinking. He seems to enjoy the prospect of making you come over and over again almost a little too much, and isn't he the one who should be punished for failing to follow orders?

Your breaths are shallow, shaky, as he practically overwhelms you with his tongue, holding your hips as still around his head as possible.

Your entire body feels like it’s on fire, and you really don’t want him to stop because you’ve never felt this good and honestly, this desired and in love, but it will be worth it, you tell yourself.

“Stop,” you muster up an order, your voice breathy as the tension in your lower belly grows a little too quickly. 

He does, removing both his face and hand from you and looking at you with wide, almost worried eyes. “Why? Are you alright?”

You try your best to catch your breath, rising to your elbows to get a proper look at him.

“You can’t make me come.”

His worry turns more into confusion, “What do you mean? Of course I can.”

“No, I meant you’re not allowed to,” you grin, watching him piece it together, “cause you chose not to follow orders.” 

Jeongguk wraps both arms around your thighs again, holding them tightly, “So it’s not that you don’t want to continue this, but you just feel like denying me that pleasure because I didn’t follow your stupid orders?”

Your grin widens in confirmation. He uses his arms to spread your thighs further in front of him, redirecting his eyes down to your cunt.

“Your rules, are they the same as before?”

“I don’t know, I just want you to follow my instructions.”

“No, not those. Your rules; no choking, hurting, anal, or anything too weird, are they the same?”

“Oh. Yeah,” you confirm with a nod.

“You’re familiar with the color system of safe words?”

You raise your eyebrow at him, watching him still staring intently at your pussy laid bare in front of him. It looks like it’s taking all his concentration and willpower not to attack it.

“You mean red for ‘stop,’ yellow for ‘hold on, something’s not right,’ and green for ‘keep going?’”

“Yeah,” he answers, looking up to give you such a heated gaze, you feel yourself throb. “Cause if you want to deny me, you’re gonna have to fight me. I’ll have your six orgasms, thank you very much.”

<previous | next>

His legs itched; the urge to sprint to the bedroom stronger than anything else he’s ever felt. But fuck. He needs to be responsible. He needs to be coordinated so he can help you thoroughly without any distractions.

He stumbles over his own shoes, quickly pulling the tie off of his neck. Shoes come off in much the same fashion– disregard in a heap along with his backpack.

The few minutes he spends sending emails to his supervisor as well as your own feel like they had to have taken years. Though any moment spent away from you feels like that. When he could be inside of you, breeding you nice and full of his pups like he knows you want– you need.

Fuck. No, no. He needs to focus. He needs to finish sending these emails, place an order for some food to be delivered, grab some towels, and fill up a few water bottles. He can’t think about that. Even if your body is screaming for him, even if the smell makes him feel like he might go insane.

His fingers tap faster at his phone, doing his utmost to check off the list one by one. Fuck. How are you always so composed during his heat? You move with such kindness, such grace while you attend to his every need and desire. Meanwhile here he is, fingers shaking as he fills up the waterbottles because he just can’t fucking take it anymore.

He would call it humiliating, meanwhile you would think it’s adorable.

His hands grip the countertop, doing their utmost to will his cock down with sheer determination alone. He can be with you. He’s almost there.

It’s not his fault that you do this to him. It’s only natural– two years into the relationship and you both know each other inside and out. Already spending multiple heats together, discussing it countless times as well means this should all be commonplace. He shouldn’t be having this much trouble. But your smell this time around… he doesn’t know if he can take it.

It’s different. Sweeter, maybe. Different… but good. He thinks he’s going to get drunk off of it. Drunk off of you.

He would love to.

A hand runs through his hair, sweat already dotting his skin. His button-down is tugged off of his shoulders. The entire apartment feels warmer. Or maybe it’s just him. He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care.

The second he finally enters the bedroom, the feeling is nothing less than ethereal. The short, sharp inhale he takes isn’t enough yet it's all too much at the same time. You consume him whole from the inside out. Robbing him of the ability to breathe, to think. To feel human when all he wants is to be inside of you. To take care of his precious girlfriend and make her feel fulfilled.

The groan that resonates from his throat doesn’t feel like his own, coming out against his own will. His face flushes in embarrassment, though his cock still strains against the material of his slacks, begging for release. Begging to be buried inside of you. Begging to make you feel complete.

Another breathless whimper leaves your lips– your senses must’ve finally kicked in. Noticed your boyfriend's presence against all of the other swirling emotions that you feel inside.

Your face pokes out from under the mound of blankets, your gaze telling him everything he needs to know. Eye’s half-lidded, pupils blown out so wide he could almost imagine there was no colour in them to begin with. Soft lips parted in a pant, taking in short, quick breaths of air. Hair a mess, thin sheen of sweat covering every inch of skin.

You would probably say you look disgusting and that you need a shower, Yoongi would say you’re the most beautiful girl alive.

But this is not the time for words like that to be exchanged. Not when you clammer out from under the blankets, trying your best to put them around you in a nest in what little time you have. Little chants of ‘hurry’ leave your lips as you try your best to fix everything to be right. Well, whatever “right” is in your heat-addled brain.

Yoongi watches it all. From the way your eyes got a little wider the second they found him, to the way you moved with such fierce haste even though your arms were trembling. Every cute little movement– every tiny expression that crosses your face as you get annoyed that you’re not moving fast enough.

A smile crosses his lips, watching you work. Watching how adorably you move to try and accommodate for him as fast as possible.

It drops the second you flinch in pain. The second you cry out and lay back against the bed. Returning to the safety of a ball as you clutch your stomach in pain.

He’s on the bed in a second, hands digging into the sheets as he starts to crawl towards you, encasing your frame with his own. His large hand comes up to cup your cheek, gentle and tender as he can manage.

The look on your face sends arousal straight to his cock. The fire in your eyes. Your lips greedily taking in his thumb to suck on it.

“Yoonie… Yoonie… you– it hurts so bad a-and–” You try to stutter out, though it is clear your heat makes it difficult to do any such thing, “I need you– w-want you so bad a-and it’s gonna feel so good I promise! Please!”

You whine, kicking your legs slightly in both annoyance and need. It sends a quiet chuckle through Yoongi. The desperation in your tone is nothing less than amusing.

The glare you send back has that gummy smile on his lips planted firm as he pulls away.

“I’m serious! It hurts so bad Yoongi!” You practically hiccup, tears brimming in your eyes from lack of contact. A million emotions at once running through you. Unsure of which you truly want to act on or feel. But you trust him. You know he’s going to take care of you.

“I know.” Is all he says. He kneels in front of you, taking in your form. Getting one last look before he finally gives in to the desires he’s had since first entering the home. Scanning you from head to toe.

When they move lower, finally glancing down between your legs he knows he can’t hold back anymore. You’re soaked through– underwear practically transparent as it clings to your needy heat.

How many times did you cum before he came home? How many times did you break down in a sob because it didn’t feel as good as when he was with you? How desperate did his poor thing get?

His gaze hardens, hands moving with sudden precision as he undoes his belt. Any embarrassment, any childish excitement has been squashed down. Entirely different beast taking over.

His slacks are quickly pushed down along with his briefs, cock finally springing free. A hiss leaves his lips, a small amount of relief taking over. A gasp leaves your own, face suddenly trained– not daring to look away as if he would disappear.

His hand wraps around the base, squeezing it slightly to try and find some peace. But he knows there will be none. Not until he’s inside of you. Not until he’s filling you with his knot. Until you’re satisfied and whining for him.

“Shit.” He grunts, though it’s clear it’s not directed at you.

“Yoongi…” You mumble. Eyes begging, pleading.

“I know honey… hurts so bad…” His hand gently grazes your ass, rubbing gentle circles into the skin. He likes you like this, a perfect view of the world just for him. Your back pressed against the mattress, hips turned to the side, legs together. You look so cute.

His fingers dip lower, gently threading themselves under the too-thin material of your underwear. Pushing it aside so the air of the room hits your core.

His breath pauses at the sight. Fuck.

He’s already addicted.

“Just let me take care of you.” He sighs, allowing his thumb to gently circle around your hole. Never dipping inside, never filling you like you cave so intricately. Instead, his cock presses against your cunt. Messy, red head so close to entering you. So close to filling you. To breeding you.

A chill runs down your spine, looking up at your boyfriend with all of the stars in your eyes. You’re going to die if he keeps standing there like he has the patience of a saint. Like he’s going to tease and torment you until you explode when really he knows that you just need him inside and everything in the world will be right again.

“Baby… focus on me…” His words are gentle, soothing. Somehow shining through your heat and allowing you to understand his words for the first time with perfect clarity. He is the only one in the world that matters.

“You’re gonna take all of me yeah? I don’t need to prep your pretty cunt at all do I? I mean look at it, so wet. So ready. You can take it right?” You practically growl in response, annoyed that he even paused fucking you to ask such a thing. When he could be fucking you. Could have made you cum 3 times already!

The wiggle of your hips leaves him smirking, “Okay, I just wanted to make sure you could take it. Since it’s hurting so bad and all.” The cocky grit to his voice lets annoyance coat your veins. Makes you want to pounce on him, sink down on his cock until–

He smiles, watching the gears turn in that little head of yours. Watching as you process everything with such confused need. Ah, he might as well give into what you truly want huh? Finally let the cord snap for himself as well.

He squeezes the base of his cock once more before sliding his hand over the entire length. Pre-cum practically drips from the tip as he slowly rubs the head of his cock over your swollen lips, dragging your messy arousal over himself.

Slowly, deliberately, he presses the tip against your cunt, less than a centimeter away from thrusting inside. Hand dragging up his length a final time as his cock twitches with desire. Thumb coming up to the tip, aiding his cock as he finally painstakingly thrusts the head inside.

His cock slowly forces its way into your hole, stretching you in a way you could have never before fathomed. Something between a moan and a cry breaks out of your throat, the pain, the burning finally ceasing once he's inside of you.

His thumb moves up to your clit, flicking gently over the bud in a way that has your back arching off of the bed. Soon, he’s pressing down harshly, almost painfully that has you coughing out a whine. One that you wouldn’t imagine hiding away from him. It finds its place, moving gentle circles around your clit to keep you going. Keep you complacent while he fills you with his cock.

He doesn’t allow himself a break to breath, knowing the second that he does he’s going to lose himself completely. Yoongi is a patient man, but you’re the straw that breaks the camel's back every single time. His end, his epiphany.

When his hips finally meet your own, when you’re finally filled to the brim with nothing but Yoongi you find yourself falling apart. You’ve been waiting too long to hold off any longer. The whole day you spent trying to find a satisfying release yet nothing could compare to this. To this feeling.

Walls flutter around him, pulling him close. Making him stay close to your eyes. Mouth cresting into a small moan as your nails dig into the sheets. Allowing waves of pleasure to run down your spine, all the way into your toes.

He stays completely still, allowing you to use him like you need. Allowing you to fall apart into nothing more than your base safe around his cock. The sight is one he wishes he had a picture of. One he could keep forever.

“Fuck.” The words come down in a harsh breath as his body moves down to cage your own. Your walls still flutter around him greedily, the effects of your orgasm not placating your heat in the slightest, “Did the pretty girl just really cum for nothing? Just used me as a fucking cocktoy, huh?”

His breath is hot in your ear, immediately extinguishing any relief you once had from your release. You need him more than ever. You don’t think you could ever live without him. You don't want to.

A harsh groan leaves his lips as he finally starts to move his hips. Long and painfully slow thrusts are all you get from him. All he’s willing to give you. If he gives you any more he knows he's going to fall apart.

“What? Couldn’t have just used a dildo for that huh?” His lips spit venom straight into your ear. Every single syllable sends arousal straight to your gut, pussy clenching around him. It’s rare he talks like this. Rare he’s vocal at all– it’s the only real sign you have of how much you’re affecting him. How much he’s revelling at your shrine.

A quick scoff leaves his lips, hips speeding up becoming harsher. “Poor thing. Doesn’t even know what she wants. Will just take what I give her. Isn’t that right?”

He leans backwards, hand gripping your ass cheek as he fucks his hips into your cunt faster. Harder. You swear you could feel him in your lungs. Feel him become a part of you entirely. Swear you could live with him inside of you just like this.

The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room, chorused by the sounds of pleasure that fall messily from your lips. Blunt nails dig into your hips as he flips you fully onto your back, thrusts his cock as deep into your tender walls as heaven will allow.

Another cuss leaves his lips as he feels somehow deeper than before. Fucking open your pussy on his cock as if it is his only purpose.

“When I came in here,” Your legs are pulled over his shoulders, cock pounding into you at a brutal pace, “I was going to make love to my sweet omega.”

He grunts, looks down at you with some concoction of lust and love drawn across his features. One hand caressing up your leg in such a sweet motion that it’s hard to fully comprehend when just a little lower he’s fucking into you like an animal. His pointer and middle finger lace under the chain around your ankle– the dainty anklet he gave to you with his initials. The one he always finds himself playing with. The one that reminds him that you belong to each other.

“But then I saw a messy little thing. One that couldn’t even wait for me to come home. Had to play with her pussy all on her own,” His other hand wraps around your hip, blunt nails digging into the tender skin, “And I knew she just needed to be fucked and bred.”

Your cunt clenches around him as a moan falls from your lips. Hips arching up, trying to meet his thrusts with everything you have left.

“You’d like that huh? To be fucked over and over again until you’re bred full of my pups?” He grunts, his cock twitching in response to his own words. You, on the other hand, are a complete mess. Heat completely takes over your brain. Dismissing any logic and reason you might’ve had. Replacing it with incessant need. Wanting Yoongi to do nothing more than fulfil those very words.

You nod your head frantically, hands twisting into the sheets as you try to ground yourself. Try to stay in whatever reality still exists. Deep down you know there isn’t one. Not when Yoongi is making promises like this to you.

The base of his cock starts to swell– he knows he won’t last much longer at all. He starts to catch at your opening, stretching you farther, causing a mewl to leave your lips at the sting. Try to adjust to it as he fucks into you as deep and as hard as he can. Forcing you to take it, take all of him.

“Fuck the poor thing over and over again until she’s dripping for weeks. Fuck her until we’re sure she’s gotta be full.” All of a sudden, you’re falling over the edge again. A heart stopping, head pounding orgasm taking over every square inch of skin, lighting it ablaze with a fire that could never be quelled.

“Please! Please Yoongi!” You beg wistfully, not sure of what you’re saying entirely as the rush of dopamine courses through your system. Dotting your vision and clouding your brain of any real ideas of visions. The waves or orgasm leave you clamping down around his cock once again, urging him to knot you.

“Please Alpha!” The nickname, one that is never meant for him sends him entirely over the edge. His hips stuttering, forcing himself as deep as he can inside of your wet heat as white begins to paint the inside of your walls. Knot finally swelling to full size, keeping him locked inside and he takes all of the pleasure you’re willing to give to him.

Soft breaths slowly fill the room, bodies slowly untensing as the pressure is finally relieved. Even if it’s only for a moment, the bliss is insurmountable. The feeling of being connected, of being cared for has you reaching out to him. Wanting attention, wanting love. Well, at least until the next round of your heat decides to come and his knot retracts in size.

A soft smile overtakes his face, fingers circling the bone of your ankle to soothe you. His other hand comes up, quickly pushing the hair out of his eyes.

He’s so gentle. A complete 180 from the man he was only minutes before. Ever so carefully moving your legs away from him, shifting you onto your side as he moves in front of you. Sliding his thigh in between your legs to keep you close. Going as slow and meticulous as he can as to not hurt you with his cock still nestled deep inside.

He pulls you close, tucking your head under his chin. Despite how sticky and gross you suddenly feel, you’re overcome with a sense of safety. Of belonging that only Yoongi ever seems to be able to provide.

A quiet “thank you” leaves your lips as you gently press a kiss against his chest. Smiling like an absolute idiot now that you’re held in your boyfriend's arms. Hunger satiated.

He hums quietly, running his fingers up and down the skin of your back. Gently scratching it in the way he knows you adore. Trying to not think too hard about the way you begged for him– begged for your alpha even though he knows he’s no such rank.

He almost wishes he never spilled the kink to you one drunken night. He was too careless, too oblivious about sharing the one thing he’s kept secret his entire life. An omega wanting to be called an alpha is taboo, something that could get him seriously hurt. But the way you say it so pretty has him wanting it to be the only thing he hears for the rest of his life.

It fills him with pride. With greed. With so many things at once it’s hard to hold himself back.

“Wasn’t too much right?” He asks softly, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You quickly shake your own in response looking up at him like he’s the only thing that matters.

“Perfect.” You confirm, nodding with determination.

He can’t help but smile at you. Nothing else he wants to do, really. He fully intends on spending the rest of his life with you, just like this.

You’ll never know what you do to him, he doesn’t think. Never know the way you make him feel so wanted. So needed as not only a partner but a person as well. Never fully comprehend the innate way that you complete him. Make him feel warm. Filled in every missing hole he had in his heart with your own.

He never thought another omega would be able to do that. Never thought he would find a mate of his own that he truly cares about– loves in the way that he does you. He has to be the luckiest man in the world. At least he’ll always believe so.

“I love you.”

You’ve taken the day off to quietly lounge around the apartment, giving your body some time to rest. It’s nice and relaxing, and your memories of last night are a soothing balm for the soreness of your thighs — a soreness not only caused by Wooyoung’s bites; you have a damn muscle ache from riding his face.

(You have always felt strongly that sex should be exempt from such nonsense but alas, it is a cruel world.)

San will probably be over later; he offered to check in after work, to see if you need anything. You suspect it’s also for his own peace of mind, so you did not try too hard to dissuade him.

But that won’t be for another few hours, so for now it’s just you and Hongjoong; your long-time friend who, ever since he moved away for his dream job at a fashion house, is also your long-distance friend.

Hongjoong rolls his eyes. “I don’t care about ‘nice’ with your onetime hookups, no,” he says, “but it’s been a while since you had something more involved going on.”

“It’s been two times; I’d hardly call that ‘involved’,” you point out, but you know you’re just being contrary for the sake of being contrary. It is getting a bit involved.

Hongjoong knows it too. “Right…” he drawls lazily, resting his chin on his hand, “so you don’t already have a date set for the third round?”

“…”

“That’s what I thought. So. Are they nice, or did you end up with more assholes?”

“I resent the implication that I have bad taste.”

“Not bad taste, just bad judgement. The other asshole was pretty hot.”

“Wow,” you say flatly. “That makes me feel much better, thank you, Joong. Also no, they’re not assholes.”

Last night gave you enough proof of that, if you needed any more. San and Wooyoung had patiently heard out your awkward little ramble. You don’t exactly consider yourself closeted, yet the simple truth is that ‘coming out’ stays an ongoing experience.

But San and Wooyoung took it without fuss; thankfully ‘aromanticism’ was not a new term to them, and they accepted your need for boundaries. If the guys were disappointed by the lack of a romantic prospect, or put off by the suggestion they might want one, they hid it well.

San just listened with an intent expression, brow furrowed. He thanked you for telling them, but also confirmed that yes, they absolutely are open to this becoming a regular thing.

Wooyoung had just asked a straightforward question; “We can still be friends, right?”

And when you answered with an emphatic yes, his follow-up was equally straightforward.

“Alright, so we’ll be friends who fuck. Works for me.”

You had agreed on a few points right after that, and put a pin in a few others. No sleepovers, no kissing outside of sex — yes, yes cuddles afterwards are fine, yes, hugs are always good! — and when you hesitated at Wooyoung’s offer to make you and San dinner sometime, he just told you to think it over.

(In hindsight, you feel silly about that last one. You make plenty of food for your other friends; you like sharing a meal together! It’s not like Wooyoung suggested a romantic candlelight dinner. You’ll have to get back to him on that one.)

“Hey? You still there?” Hongjoong says, waving his hand. “Is the screen frozen or is that you?”

His voice snaps you out of your thoughts, and you blink to shake it off. “Sorry, yeah, that was me,” you say. “But seriously, you don’t have to worry about it. We talked the thing through, I don’t think I’ll be accused of keeping anyone on the hook this time around.”

(You’d think that “I’m not looking for something romantic” would have covered it with the other guy; but some people don’t take a hint even when it hits them over the head with a baguette.)

“So… you’ll be okay?” Hongjoong asks, the scepticism in his voice poorly hidden.

“God, what’s with all the fussing today! I’ve lived next to San for almost a year, I know he’s a nice guy. So is Wooyoung! And you know me; there’s no strings attached. No feelings to get hurt here.”

Hongjoong makes a face of distaste. “No, don’t pull that crap, alright? Don’t blow this shit off,” he says, shaking his head. “Yeah, I know you. So I know that ‘no feelings’ is bullshit. Just because you don’t do romance, doesn’t mean you don’t do any feelings at all. Your strings just happen to look a little different. Sure, you don’t want a lovey dovey boyfriend or two out of this; doesn’t mean you can’t get hurt by them.”

His annoyance lilts over into awkward self-consciousness at the end; Hongjoong knows damn well that you took it hard when he moved to the other side of the country.

(You didn’t resent him for it — how could you, when he was literally chasing his dream? — but it did leave a sting, and you do miss him. Videocalls are nice, but it’s just not the same.)

You wonder how much Hongjoong senses of the things that are hiding between the pieces of what you told him; he is right, you are already getting attached to San and Wooyoung, to their easy companionship and the growing friendship between you. It’d do you good to remember that you don’t know how long this arrangement will last.

Still, you are warmed by how Hongjoong is scolding you; a cornerstone in your friendship. It’s how he shows he cares.

“Okay, okay, you win. I won’t blow it off. But really, it will be fine, Joong,” you say, totally blowing it off. “They’re great, they’re fun, I’m having fun. We’re friends who fuck!” you go on, echoing Wooyoung’s description.

“And you claim you’re not a romantic,” Hongjoong deadpans, but he leaves it be for now. “So. The dick is good, then?”

You snort; now that’s more like the Hongjoong you know. “No idea actually,” you admit (but you’re pretty damn sure it will be.) “The tongue is incredible though.”

“What do you mean, ‘no idea’?!” he says, with a face of incredulous disbelief. “What the hell have you been doing? No, no actually don’t tell me. Keep the specifics to yourself.”

“You’re the one who asked!” you laugh, unsurprised at the way he’s backtracking. Hongjoong always bites off more than he can chew when it comes to the details of your sex life; nosy as fuck, but also appalled whenever you indulge his curiosity a little too much.

“It’s called being a supportive friend. You’re supposed to answer ‘yes, Joong, the dick is fantastic’ and move on,” Hongjoong says, pinching the bridge of his nose; like he is painstakingly explaining advanced mathematics to a toddler, already knowing the futility of his efforts. “Except you’re not getting any, I guess.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Alright, mister. ‘Yes, Joong, the dick will be fantastic’,” you parrot back. “Thank you for asking, my dear supportive friend.”

“See? That’s all you needed to do.”

Just like that, the conversation passes on to other things. Your call doesn’t end until much later, once you and Hongjoong are fully caught up with another’s lives. You’ve even started to plan a long-overdue visit in person; it’s been a while since you had the opportunity to menace Hongjoong with hugs.

You mosey around your apartment, starting up a chore or two and giving up immediately when your body complains too loudly. So you lounge on the couch for the day, and try not to think too much about how Hongjoong had scolded you about disregarding your feelings.

You’re moderately successful at this.

In general, you are perfectly satisfied with the relationships in your life. There is no feeling of ‘missing out’, no hole in your heart that you can’t fill with platonic or familial affection. No craving for ‘more’ than friendship and sex — but you are painfully aware that without a romantic commitment, you usually fall to the wayside in your friends’ list of priorities.

No matter how much you invest on your end, it’s never a given that their long-term plans will include you.

And that? To know that the people most precious to you don’t prioritise you as highly as you do them?

That part does hurt sometimes.

But all these thoughts are completely irrelevant to the situation at hand, or so you firmly remind yourself. It’s like you told Hongjoong, right? This thing with San and Wooyoung is just about having fun together. As long as you keep your expectations in check, you won’t have lied to Hongjoong about whether he needs to worry about you.

Thankfully, your concerns are a fading memory by the time San comes over to check up on you. You really don’t need help with anything, but he stays over to chat anyway.

At the start of everything, you did have some worries about disrupting your neighbourly bond with San — but if anything, you have grown more comfortable with each other. You’ve always been friendly enough, but you never crossed the threshold into actual ‘friends’. A polite, shy distance always held you back.

But now? The shyness has been thoroughly scrubbed off of you both.

So you enthusiastically tell him about your plans to meet up with Hongjoong, and he proudly tells you about his students’ progress. There is always a glow about San when he talks about ‘his’ kids, and you listen and watch fondly as he gives an energetic demonstration of the new kicking drills he’s been teaching them.

(He is adamant to teach you too; which you try to refuse at first, considering the state of your muscles. But there is no force in the world that can withstand the strength of San’s pout — so you make a brave effort. It’s absolutely worth the spike in soreness when San laughs with crescent eyes at your disastrous attempt.)

“Hey, about next weekend,” San starts, just when he is about to leave. His hand rests on the doorframe, and his cheery demeanour fades. He raises his eyebrow just slightly — a quiet intensity taking over. “You said you’ve dabbled with bondage before, right? Just curious, how do you feel about getting tied up this time around, instead of Wooyoung?”

Your chest jolts at the mention of Wooyoung tied up, plunging you back into memories of last night.

The leather handcuffs made a return for his punishment, looped around the slats of the headboard. It exposed Wooyoung’s chest for San to give him a taste of his own toothy medicine. Wooyoung had shuddered and gasped at every hard bite, whimpering while San used his skin as a canvas to paint with red marks and bruises. Tears and sweat had streamed down Wooyoung’s face as San stretched him with deft, practised fingers, milking his prostate until Wooyoung was completely dry and trembling, his torso covered with his own cum.

You also remember the dopey smile on Wooyoung’s face after he came down from the onslaught of his ‘punishment’, grinning tiredly when San undid his cuffs.

(Because no matter how San punishes him, you doubt any lessons are ever learned. Taming Wooyoung seems to be a hopeless endeavour.)

“Did I do well?” he’d asked eagerly, still a little drunk on pain and overstimulation.

“You did so good,” San had assured him, wiping his forehead to press a kiss there.

“Hm. You too,” Wooyoung had mumbled, not letting his exhaustion stop him from lavishing San with praise.

Praising San is part of his aftercare, you know now. Like a soft cushion for him to land on after a rough session. Confirmation that every degrading word spoken, every flash of pain inflicted, had been for the pleasure of his partner.

The trust between them is truly something special — and by asking you about bondage, San has indirectly asked you a second question, hidden deeper underneath; do you trust him as well? Enough to leave yourself completely in his and Wooyoung’s hands?

You know that San would back down and drop the subject without another word if you said no, and that seals the deal for you.

“Yes. Good. I feel good about that,” you say, with warm confidence.

He grins, his lips carrying that dangerous cocky edge that you’re getting real familiar with. “Great. We’ll properly talk it through later, alright? Then maybe we can have some fun with that.”

Of that, you have no doubt.

-☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧☆✧-

San’s lips are pursed in concentration, drawing them into an adorable little pout. He is clearly practised with the linen rope in his hands, but still takes the utmost care as he ties your wrists together. He makes a point of checking your comfort, and tests whether the knots slip and if the doubled ropes are tensioned evenly. There is a pair of safety shears on the nightstand.

You are gathered in Wooyoung’s arms, who sits against the headboard of the bed. While you watch San intently, Wooyoung is more interested in plying your neck with impatient kisses, his hands running restlessly across your bare body.

Wooyoung is dressed casual in a simple dark grey shirt, the material soft against your skin, while his trousers do nothing to hide the first hints of a growing bulge. San also opted for the casual look, wearing a tight black t-shirt and fitted jeans. The contrast with your own nakedness makes you fidgety, itching to pull at their clothes; but your incapacitated hands leave you with no choice but to wait.

“There,” San says, finally satisfied with his knots. “Now, what did I tell you?”

“Any tingling, pain, numbness; anything feels wrong, and I say the word. ‘Red’,” you obediently repeat back to him, trying not to get distracted by Wooyoung’s hands squeezing at your thighs.

“Or?” San presses.

“Or if I just want them off. If they don’t feel good anymore.”

You find that hard to imagine; the linen rope is softer than you expected, and already a fuzzy smile plays on your lips. It’s not your first time getting tied up, but the fact that you’re with San and Wooyoung breathes fresh excitement into the situation.

“Exactly. Good girl,” San praises, cupping your chin with a soft brush of his fingers. You melt into his gentle touch with a content moan, nuzzling into his palm.

The ropework is not excessively restrictive; your hands are tied in front of you, giving you some freedom of movement and putting minimal pressure on your joints — but San wanted to ‘start off easy’.

You whine a little when San pulls away, but he raises an eyebrow at you.

Just a small, simple gesture, barely a warning; yet you instinctively quiet down at the sight, already sinking into hazy surrender. Satisfied, San takes your bound arms and hooks them behind Wooyoung’s head.

“Wooyoung?” San says, who glances up from kissing your neck. “Have fun.”

Wooyoung’s grin spreads against your skin. “Oh, we will, won’t we?” he coos at you, his voice alive with excitement. His hand trails further inward. “I’ll be so good to you, don’t you worry.”

You shudder when his fingers delve between your folds, and Wooyoung’s breath picks up as he slowly spreads the growing arousal around your clit. His teeth graze against your shoulder, red hair tickling your cheek, and you try to angle your hands to grasp at the strands. He moans eagerly when you find a grip, and his fingers pick up speed as they get soaked with your juices.

San has his hands on your knees to keep them apart, watching you with dark eyes. You burn under his gaze, your breath hitching when his eyes keep wandering from your face down to your cunt, his jaw clenching at the sight of Wooyoung toying with your clit.

“Gonna be so nice to you today,” Wooyoung groans against your neck. “Promised San that I’d behave with you tied up for us; get you all ready to take his cock. You’ll need it, Sannie is being sweet to you now but once he sinks into that tight pussy? Fuck, he’ll want to ruin you so bad, I just know it.”

He giggles when you whimper in response, dipping a finger inside your already slick entrance. San’s hold on your knees tightens.

“Yeah, you want San to ruin you, don’t you?” Wooyoung rasps, and laps up a bead of sweat on your neck with a thick swipe of his tongue. He is getting antsy, his voice tight with barely held back excitement.

“Then I’ll get you ready for him, baby. Stretch you out nice and proper so he can bury that thick cock inside you as hard and deep as he wants. Ahh, he will fuck you so well, you’ll be good to him too, won’t you? Gush all over him when you cum, just like you did on my face. I can still taste you when I close my eyes, fuck, aren’t I taking good care of you? Listen to that sound. Getting so wet…”

Wooyoung groans at the squelch of you, sliding in a second finger alongside the first. You pant at the intrusion, thighs flexing against’s San’s grip, your head spinning from the endless stream of filth spilling from Wooyoung’s lips.

“Don’t even need to put my mouth on you, just my fingers is enough to turn you into a mess,” Wooyoung babbles, leaving sharp nips on the places where your skin glistens with his saliva. “But you’d be dripping right now even without my fingers, wouldn’t you? Can’t wait to have this leaking pussy stuffed with cock, greedy thing that you are. So wound up at the thought of San fucking you dumb.”

“S-shit,” you stutter, clenching around Wooyoung’s fingers. San bites back a quiet groan and his eyes catch yours, full of sharp intent.

Wooyoung grins, his free hand squeezing at your breast. “Maybe I could take a turn after, hm? Fuck his cum deeper into your hole after he fills you up. Make sure you carry it around for days. You’d like that?”

A moan breaks on your tongue, your back arching into his touch. Wooyoung sighs happily, nibbling at your earlobe.

“Fuck, yeah I knew you’d like that,” he mumbles eagerly, curving his fingers inside you. You jolt when Wooyoung finds what he’s looking for; and he hones in immediately, massaging electricity into the spongy bundle of nerves. He groans as your hips cant into his touch, sparks flashing with every press of his fingertips.

“Can I, Sannie? Can I get a turn?” He almost stumbles over the words in excitement. “I’m being good, aren’t I?”

You whimper at how hungrily Wooyoung chases after praise rather than degradation, now that you are bound and left to his whims. So eager to know that he is taking proper care of you — and he is. Skilled fingers draw gaspy moans from you as he drives up the tight pressure in your abdomen, coiling rapidly.

(You had okay-ed it beforehand for Wooyoung to fuck you, of course, but your permission is not the only one he needs.)

San’s eyebrows quirk at Wooyoung’s question, teeth flashing as his lips pull into a crooked smile. He does not answer; instead he leans in closer. His presence is solid and imposing, and you bite down a swear when his hand joins Wooyoung’s between your thighs.

“In a sharing mood today, Woo?” San asks, grabbing Wooyoung’s chin in a firm hold. Down against your cunt, his index finger rubs slow circles around your swollen clit. “Let me have a feel this time?”

Wooyoung just whines, nodding his head. He is so pliant today — perhaps San’s punishment has done more to (temporarily) mellow Wooyoung out than you had given him credit for.

“Good boy,” San purrs, and pulls him into a kiss. His finger experimentally presses against Wooyoung’s two buried in your twitching hole, then slides in to find a home alongside them.

You let out a throttled moan as you clench around the added stretch, arms pulling against the rope. San makes a point of taking it slow, giving you time to adjust while Wooyoung continues to curl his fingers inside you, but he quickly picks up his pace as the slide gets easier. Your thighs are slick with arousal, their fingers drawing obscene noises from your cunt and your lips as they work in tandem to scissor you open. Your head falls against Wooyoung’s shoulder, gasping for breath and eyes starting to roll back.

Meanwhile San licks messily into Wooyoung’s mouth, jaws shifting as their tongues entangle. Wooyoung whimpers against San, rocking his hips into you; pushing his hard cock into your lower back. You try to match his rut, but Wooyoung and San’s finger-fucking makes any controlled movement on your part a near-impossibility. They never let up during all this; if anything, their fingers pick up speed, like the desperate urgency of their sloppy kiss floods over into you.

San detaches his lips from Wooyoung when he realises how close you are. He presses his free hand against your shaking knee to hold you open, his thumb drawing soothing circles into the skin as your vision starts to blur. Wooyoung nuzzles into the crook of your shoulder with a groan, his breath scorching. His free hand finds your clit, and the circles he draws are anything but soothing.

“Ahh, Woo is being good to you, isn’t he?” San murmurs, his lips ghosting across your jawline. You can only whine your agreement, trembling as you inch closer and closer to the brink. “Maybe he does deserve a turn,” San contemplates with a quiet moan, his mouth finding yours in a faded shadow of a kiss. “If you can still handle it, after I am done with you.”

San’s words spur Wooyoung on, his thumb pressing down harder.

“F-fuck,” you moan, toes curling as the world starts to tilt. “There, right there, W-Woo—”

His name ends in a strangled sob, your hips bucking into their hands as pleasure crashes down on you. Your legs try to clamp shut but San blocks one with his body, the other with his hand still on your knee. He slides his finger out of your twitching cunt while Wooyoung’s slow to a lazy crawl, easing you through your high.

San lifts his glistening finger up to get a taste, and groans lowly as he sucks indulgently at the slick. He releases it with a wet smack, licking his lips. “Hm, no wonder Wooyoung got so worked up over this pussy.”

“Told you,” Wooyoung mumbles between open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder, the pads of his fingers still slowly rubbing into that sensitive patch of nerves. He giggles when you start to squirm against him, and playfully bites at your incapacitated arm. His fingers pull out, leaving you unsatisfyingly empty.

“I think you’re ready, don’t you?” he grins, and reaches to carefully manoeuvre your hands back in front of you. His fingers leave a sticky patch of your own juices smeared on your forearm. “All stretched and sopping wet for Sannie’s cock. I’ll watch this time, let you have an audience for a change.”

You moan at the excited buzz in Wooyoung’s voice, but San gives him an unimpressed look.

“You’re not an audience, you’re a heckler,” he says, a pout on his lips that he seems unaware of. He pulls off his shirt in one smooth motion and throws it aside, muscles rippling.

Wooyoung laughs in surprise, his good mood inextinguishable. “Hey, don’t be like that!” he says, waving a hand at San. “It’s a special occasion today, I’m on my best behaviour!”

San just ignores him, continuing to take off his clothes. He shifts to sit back on his knees, legs spread — but instead of making quick work of his pants, San takes his time. Your breath hitches when he runs a slow hand up his inner thigh, the thick muscle wrapped snugly in his fitted jeans.

He oozes confidence, his face filled with complete focus. San bites his lip when he cups his bulge, squeezing it before moving on to undo the button and zipper. His hips tilt forward as he hooks his thumb under the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pulling them both down until he can wrap a hand around his leaking cock, giving it a few strokes just for good measure.

Entranced, you watch how San’s eyes flutter shut as he rocks into his palm. Your hips move on their own accord, pushing back into Wooyoung’s clothed cock.

He groans right beside your ear, gripping your waist tightly. “Careful there, baby,” Wooyoung says, breathy. “Or my best behaviour won’t last.”

San’s eyes flash open, and he grins at the needy look on your face, how you squirm in Wooyoung’s arms at the sight of him.

“You know, I was gonna take it easy on you tonight,” he says, releasing his cock to shuck off his pants and underwear. “Spoil you, take it nice and sweet…”

Your breath hitches as he grabs onto your hips, pulling you out of Wooyoung’s arms. San pushes down on your shoulder, guiding you to lay flat on your back. Heat envelops you as his body presses against yours, immediately giving a smooth roll of his hips, cock sliding through your wet folds. Your bound hands are trapped between your chest and his, and you can feel his heartbeat, pounding harder than his self-control would lead you to believe.

“But… Wooyoungie is right, isn’t he?” San takes your hands and raises them above your head. He leans in to brush his nose against yours, his breath falling hot on your lips. “You don’t want me to take it easy.”

You shake your head with a whine, trying to arch up into a kiss. Your arms strain against San’s iron hold on your wrist; there is no give at all.

San chuckles at your hungered response. “Yeah, I should have known better,” he says, his hips grinding a little firmer against yours. “That first night, I saw the way you watched me fuck Wooyoung. Three fingers inside you and it still wasn’t enough was it? Still needed more. Even then, you couldn’t wait for that greedy cunt to get split open on my cock.”

And yet he won’t push inside you, taunting with his slow thrusts. The underside of his cock drags against your clit in delicious friction, but you need more. “S-San, please—”

“See?” he says with a grin, and sucks a rough kiss into your neck. “So fucking hungry for it. Want me to fuck you just as hard as I fucked him, hm? Until you can’t do anything but lie there and take it. Stuffed so full with my cum there’s no room for even a single thought inside that pretty head of yours. Was Wooyoung right about that, too? Want to get fucked dumb?”

There is a teasing lilt to San’s voice; he asks it like you’re a little slow already — which you are. You moan shamelessly, wrapping a leg around his waist in an attempt to guide him inside. The effort is completely in vain.

“Gonna need you to tell me, baby,” San insists, nipping at your earlobe. “Do you want me to fuck you until you’re dumb on my cock?”

(You can’t tell whether he is taunting you again, or confirming that you are still on board with rougher treatment; even though it had come up in conversation. Either way, his question drives a spike of heat in your already throbbing cunt.)

“Hngh, yes, yes—! P-please,” you hiccup, “please, San. F-fuck me dumb. Stuff me until I can’t think, can’t think of anything but your cock filling me up, f-fuck—”

San grunts a strained curse, unable to hide how much your begging riles him up. Finally, finally, he grabs his cock, flushed dark and leaking, and guides it inside you. The stretch is manageable after his and Wooyoung’s extensive prep, but your jaw still falls slack at how he opens you up, tortuously slow.

“S-San, mmmh, n-need more, please—”

He hushes you with a soft, shallow kiss, though a tense vein bulges in his neck. “Shh, be our good girl a little longer, okay? We’ll get there, I promise. Wanna make this good for you.”

“It-it’s good, feels so good,” you whimper, uselessly straining your hands against the rope and San’s hold. “I just—”

His dick twitches inside you, and San presses his mouth against yours more solidly, teasing your lips apart to soak up every shaky moan as he bottoms out. “I got you, baby,” he pants. “Gonna give it all to you. Wooyoung?”

“Yeah,” Wooyoung says, his voice strained. You glance up, and realise that somehow he has taken off his shirt without you noticing. His trousers are undone just enough to stroke himself through his underwear; there is a damp spot in the crotch.

Wooyoung shifts closer at San’s call. He half sits, half lays down with his legs folded up beside him, and leans over you to plant one hand firmly into the mattress; right underneath your bound wrists, blocking your movement. Wooyoung’s dick strains against his underwear right at your eye-level, and his grin widens when that is exactly where your eyes go.

“One at the time, baby,” he teases, giving himself a firm squeeze. “At least for today.”

You suck in a breath at the suggestion, sparks ricocheting in your stomach. Fuck. You’re not even sure yet how you’ll handle San’s rather substantial girth, once he starts fucking you in earnest, yet the idea of taking them both at once has you clamping around him. San groans lowly, the sound ending in a hoarse chuckle. “Ohh, she likes that, Woo.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “Of course she does. Now, are you going to fuck her or not?”

(Thank god, someone is asking the important questions around here.)

“San…” you moan weakly. You are primed for him to use every ounce of his strength and fuck you until you see stars; the snug fit of his cock buried in your core is intoxicating, yet maddeningly frustrating without any friction. “Please, need you…”

His endless teasing and refusal to move is driving you up the wall; you’re aching to grab onto him, to claw at his back and twist your fingers in his hair to yank him into a kiss — but Wooyoung’s arm blocks your hands from touching San, and San has your hips pinned onto the bed. There is nothing you can do but surrender to his inclinations. He’ll fuck you when he decides to fuck you.

But Wooyoung’s lips curl up with mischief, a sharp glint in his eyes.

“Ah…” he says, like some deep, secret revelation has come to him. He looks down at you, using his free hand to brush along your jawline. “Unless maybe our Sannie is worried that his cock alone won’t be enough for you anymore, now you’ve gotten a scent of more. Nothing but a double stuffing will do for our sweet, greedy girl.”

You sob in desperation, squirming against San’s hold. Already your thoughts are getting lost in a hazy fog, too addled and tongue-tied to object to Wooyoung’s taunt; so you completely miss how San’s jaw ticks at his boyfriend’s mocking jab. You only whine when San pulls out until just the tip teases at your entrance, and are entirely unprepared when he slams back in — then immediately thrusts again, hitting deep inside your gut.

The force rips a loud cry from your throat, your fingers clawing at Wooyoung’s arm as sudden pleasure floods your system. Your eyes roll back at the drag of San’s cock against your pulsing walls, a thin trail of saliva escaping the corner of your parted lips.

San grins smugly at your response, bucking into you like it costs no effort at all to fuck you to pieces. He raises an eyebrow at Wooyoung. “Worried?” he scorns, his hands digging into the soft meat of your sides to yank you up to meet his pelvis. “No, Wooyoung, not worried at all. Maybe you should be, having to follow up on me wrecking this sweet pussy.”

But Wooyoung barely seems to hear him, entranced by the sight of your sopping cunt stretching around San’s cock, squelching obscenely every time you suck in his thick length.

San quickly proves his confidence earned. You gasp for pitched breaths, moaning helplessly as the bed rattles with every sharp snap of his hips.

Because that, you soon realise, is the thing about getting fucked by Choi San; you can happily report to Hongjoong that the dick is fantastic — but it’s the hips that are life-ruining.

And San is unrelenting as he drives into you over and over again; balls slapping against your ass, his own breath becoming ragged. You try to move with him, but the attempt is futile as San jostles you around, his grip on your sides like iron. He is in complete control. Sweat drips down his temple, across his jaw to his chin, until it falls into the valley between your breasts to blend with the beads of your own sweat gathered there.

“How are you doing, baby?” he asks, almost condescending in the certainty of his answer.

But you can only answer in a pathetic mewl, writhing underneath him as he fucks a white heat of pleasure into your core.

San chuckles darkly. “What’s this? I barely got started and you’re already dumb on my cock? Fuck, but you are taking me so well. So fucking wet for me… You wanted my cock so bad? Now take it.”

His thumb slides inward, pressing against the weeping mess that is your pussy. Sweat and slick soaks into the sheets but San pays it no mind, only caring about drawing more depraved sounds from your slack mouth. He does it so easily, the combination of his thumb on your clit and those brutal slams of his hips overwhelming your inhibitions. The building pressure in your cunt sharpens, honing in on the apex of release.

Another especially hard thrust causes a fresh spill of drool past your lips, and Wooyoung catches it on his fingers. He grins as he examines the glistening shine, and for a moment you think Wooyoung is going to suck his fingers into his mouth — but instead he offers them to San, who hungrily accepts.

Without letting up on his fanatical pace, San’s eyes flutter shut as he moans around Wooyoung’s fingers. He bits his lip when Wooyoung slides out again, and then cups San’s cheek to spread saliva across his face. “Brat,” San pants with heavy-lidded eyes, though he does not look in the least upset.

“Yeah,” Wooyoung says with a grin, and leans in to peck San on his glossy cheek. “Now make her cum so I can watch, alright?”

“Woo…” San sighs an exasperated warning at Wooyoung’s brazen order, his rhythm slowing — and the loss of force threatens to take you away from the edge you were rushing towards, your orgasm receding out of reach.

“N-no, San—” you whimper desperately. “So close, s-so fucking close, please, wanna cum, let me cum, please—”

Wooyoung’s expression goes wicked at your pleading, delighted to have caught San between the choice of punishing him or pleasing you… or so he thinks.

Instead of showing any conflicted feelings, San just rolls his eyes and tsks, then leans down to smother your mouth in an aggressive kiss. This way, his hand is trapped between your stomach and his; but he can still press against your clit, the nub shifting underneath his thumb as he picks up his pace again, pistoning into you with reckless abandon.

And in this position? Wooyoung’s view of your face and cunt are almost completely blocked off.

“Sa-aan,” Wooyoung complaints, trying to pull San back up — but it’s like San doesn’t even notice Wooyoung, his tongue hungry as he sloppily kisses you. His spit freely spills into your mouth, dribbling past your lips when you gurgle out a wet moan.

Their petty behaviour over you just works you up further, and the orgasm that was almost denies you comes surging back all at once, violent and overwhelming as it rips through you.

San swallows up your loud cry like he does not want Wooyoung to even hear it, pressing a firm hand down on your hips to keep you in place when you convulse and clamp around him. He stops his brutal pounding, instead circling his pelvis as he stays deep inside you through your release. Wooyoung is still blocking your arms from moving, but your legs lock around San’s waist and he groans as you clench with every ripple of electricity.

His breath comes in harsh inhales, and San releases your mouth with a whine to bite at your shoulder, all his muscles tensing to gather every ounce of willpower not to cum right with you.

Your moans grow weaker as the strength slips away from your body, the aftermath of your intense orgasm leaving you boneless and exhausted. Wooyoung stares down at you, and an agitated excitement burns behind his blown eyes.

San relaxes when your body sags underneath him, sweetly lapping at the bite he left on your shoulder. “Such a good girl,” he purrs, dragging his nose up your neck to press a kiss on your jaw. “Doing so well for me. Are you alright to keep going, hm? Want to make Wooyoung wait a little longer with me? Give me a colour.” San’s voice changes a little at those last words; not lavishing you with praise or teasing Wooyoung anymore, but giving you an honest command.

(You hear Wooyoung make a noise at San’s comment, but he quiets at the call for colour.)

You take a deep, shaky breath to steady yourself. “Green,” you answer, meeting San’s intense gaze. “W-want you to cum inside me. I’m okay, j-just… let me hold you?”

San’s eyes go soft, and he motions for Wooyoung to let you move your arms.

Despite his earlier mood, Wooyoung obediently pulls his hand away. (Because you asked for it, not San, or so you suspect. He does give your wrist a light squeeze first, like he is loath to let go.)

San takes a moment to check the ropes, and helps you sling your bound arms around his neck when he’s satisfied with what he sees. Your fingers grasp at the sweaty dark hair at the nape, and immediately you feel more secure, more anchored, sighing when San leans in for a light kiss.

“There you go,” San murmurs against your lips, giving an experimental slow roll of his hips. “Is that better?”

You whimper at the slide of his cock against your fluttering walls — but frantically nod your head, worried San might take your noise as a negative. “Y-yes, so good. Feels so good.”

He lets out a strained chuckle at your enthusiasm, biting his lip as the speed of his thrusts pick up again. His previously deep and smooth rolls soon degrade to nothing but a frantic rut, focused on his own release. To fill you up exactly like you’d asked.

And although you are too wired to get yourself back to that edge this time around, San’s increasingly desperate and pitchy moans get you high nonetheless. His rhythm crumbles down further every time he buries himself in your cunt, his head dropping down against your shoulder, rough grunts falling on your heated skin.

“Got one more for me?” he asks, whines, and reaches for your clit again.

It is tempting, so fucking tempting to let San push you in and through the needling high of overstimulation, but you hiss as he makes contact and shake your head. “No, n-no. Yellow, yellow,” you slur out, the colour system still fresh in your mind from San’s earlier check. “C-can’t, hmnh—”

As much as you usually revel in the thrill of seeking out the furthest edges of your limits; there is no way in hell that you’ll have the stamina to keep going with Wooyoung if San makes you cum again right now.

San immediately pulls his hand back, switching gears as he simply grabs onto your waist again. “Happy just to be used by me, hm?” San hums against your ear, nipping at your lobe. “Asking for nothing except to get stuffed full. How lucky am I to have such a sweet, pretty cumdump.”

(Your stomach jolts with surprised pleasure; San has been encouraging you to share whatever preferences and fantasies you feel comfortable sharing, but you did not expect him to dip into this side of your praise kink tonight, with all his initial talk of slow and sweet. But obviously he is becoming more comfortable to improvise with you, and pull from his growing knowledge of your pleasure points.

Already you’ve come a long way from the San who refused to let Wooyoung eat you out — and you are still getting to know one another. That in itself is a feverishly exciting thought.)

“Yes, yes Sannie, please,” you babble, his affectionate degradation flaring hotly inside you. “Give it to me, please, fill me up— I want it, want it, want it—”

“Fuck, fuck, hang on, baby, fuck,” San says, cracks fracturing his voice and composure when you squeeze encouragingly around him. It only takes a few more rough, frantic bucks of his hips before he cums with a broken moan, painting your fluttering walls with ropes of hot, sticky seed.

You groan in satisfaction as San stills inside you, your bound fingers running through his hair best you can. He rocks into you a little longer with small, whiny noises, milking himself with your plush cunt until his arms tremble and his breath comes in tight moans.

“That’s it,” you murmur to him, “being so good to me, giving me everything.” You play with the sweaty strands of hair as he slowly recovers; which gives you a moment to recover as well. Your walls still twitch around San, overly sensitive, but the sharpest edge is wearing down.

Wooyoung’s hand joins yours in San’s hair, but there is a quiver to his fingers as he gently strokes his boyfriend’s head.

You glance up to Wooyoung, and see he has pushed down his trousers and underwear enough to expose his veiny, rock-hard dick. There is an angry flush to the leaking tip, and Wooyoung’s entire body looks like it’s pulled taut, ready to snap.

“Wooyoung…”

He swallows thickly at the call of his name, teeth digging into his bottom lip. He squeezes your hand, sensing the concern in your voice.

“I’m good,” Wooyoung strains. “H-hurts, but it’s good. I’m fucking good, baby. I-is it my turn now?” he ends on a whine.

San pulls out with a grunt, and you moan at the sudden emptiness as he slides off of you, onto the bed on the opposite side of Wooyoung. He is still catching his breath, sweat beading in his hairline. You give San a questioning look, but he just grins back. “Your call,” he says. “Is it his turn?”

Wooyoung restlessly pats at your hair, desperation shining in his eyes from unshed tears. But his expression is feverish, borderline feral; all that holds him back from pouncing you is a razor-thin wire of restraint tied to your consent.

You give it to him.

“Yeah, your turn,” you say, breathy, and bring your bound hands down to your cunt, smearing your fingers through the mixture of arousal and the slow dribble of San’s leaking seed. “You promised me, right? Was gonna make me feel San’s cum for days. Wanna feel you too…”

Wooyoung chokes back a whimper, his hips stuttering; and for a moment you think he is going to cum without his cock ever touching your waiting cunt.

But he manages to regain himself and, with ragged breaths, he kicks off his pants and underwear. Once his clothes are discarded, Wooyoung scrambles to lay down next to you. His touch is roughened by impatience, and you squeak in surprise when Wooyoung turns you onto your side, facing San, and hooks your leg back around him.

Before you get a chance to worry about more of San’s cum spilling out, Wooyoung’s cock pushes into your wet hole. He whines as he plugs you up, holding you close against him and teething at your neck. “Fuck, but this pussy is so fucking sweet,” he groans, shaky as he grinds against your ass. “Feels just as good as it tastes. Wanna make such a mess of you.”

“D-do it,” you challenge him, turning your head in an attempt to find his lips. “Mess me up, fuck, Wooyoungie…”

Wooyoung’s cock might not be as thick as San’s, but his length hits deliciously inside you, a toe-curling slide that is just what your raw and tender cunt needs right now. “Gonna fuck Sannie’s cum so deep you can taste him, promise,” Wooyoung babbles, sucking hungrily at your skin. “Aren’t I so much nicer than him? I am letting him watch.”

San scoffs. “Like that’s not for your own benefit,” he says, through his eyes are hard while he does watch how his own seed slowly leaks from your pussy between thrusts, dislodged by Wooyoung’s sloppy thrusts. “We all know how much you get off on an audience.”

Wooyoung ignores him, too caught up in the thrill of finally having some relief for his painfully neglected cock.

“Look at San,” he tells you, his mouth wet against your ear. “Look how fucked out he is from pumping your cunt full. Wanted to stay buried in this warm pussy for as long as he could, didn’t he?”

You moan when San’s gaze snaps up to meet your eyes; ‘fucked out’ barely covers it. He looks as ruined as you feel, lips plump from the force of his kisses and every inch of skin glistening with sweat, his broad chest rising with every breathless pull for air, punctuated by soft moans. His eyes are slightly unfocused but still he watches with quiet intensity, like he already can’t wait to bury himself into you all over again.

San takes your bound hands and lifts them up to his puffy lips. You expect a kiss — but teeth nip your skin instead, San’s hazy eyes dangerous as he bites at your knuckles, one by one.

You squirm at the gentle stings of pain, and Wooyoung lets out another drawn-out whine as you clench tighter around him. His hand shakily inches downward, but he grunts and yanks it back when he remembers your earlier limit. Desperately, you shake your head, arching into his touch.

“No, n-no, I—” you moan, wiggling your ass into him. Heat is coiling in your abdomen again, dizzying your tongue into slurred speech. “I, hngh, I can go again, please, please, mmmhh fuck, want you to touch me, Wooyoung, ahh—”

And Wooyoung — fucking menace that he is — even when balancing on the very brink himself; Wooyoung can’t resist being a little shit about it. “Touch you where, baby?” he pants, like he isn’t about to bust his load in your aching cunt. “Tell me where you need my fingers, then I’ll give it to you. Tell me exactly.”

With San holding onto your wrists, you can hardly force Wooyoung’s hands where you want them, so you have no choice but to give voice to your feverish desperation aloud. “P-pussy. Need you to touch my pussy.”

“That it? Nothing more… specific?” he asks with a salacious grin, running a single finger through your messy folds, cruelly bypassing the swollen nub that is begging for attention.

“Clit,” you sob, twisting against him. “Put your fingers on my clit and make me cu-uuhmm—!”

Wooyoung sighs in bliss, obediently rolling your clit between thumb and forefinger. They’re soon coated in an obscene slick, a mixture of San’s seed and your own smeared arousal. Your choked up whimpers can’t quite cover the wet noises of Wooyoung’s efforts, his fingers and cock making an even bigger mess of you. San watches silently how fluids drip from your thighs onto his already soaked sheets, something primal cutting through the exhaustion in his eyes.

Predictably, Wooyoung does not last long; especially now that you are clamping around his dick, your cunt instinctively trying to keep him embedded deep inside you. He burrows his face into your shoulder, biting down on the exact same spot that San had earlier.

You hiss at how it smarts, but the sound morphs into a pleased moan when Wooyoung cums hard. His hips jerk as he empties with generous spurts of hot whiteness, leaving you feeling so floaty and full, satisfied and swollen — you wonder if you’d feel the protrusion of Wooyoung’s cock and their combined seed, if your hands were free to press against your stomach.

But Wooyoung quickly pulls out with a pained whine, too sensitive to even simply stay inside you. Immediately his cum starts to drip out; except San is right there to gather his and Wooyoung’s seed on two fingers. He shoves them back inside you without delay, keeping you beautifully stuffed while Wooyoung frantically works your clit.

Wooyoung covers your cheek, jaw and ear with hard kisses, and whispers filthy encouragements as you begin to shake and tremble uncontrollably. San curls his fingers inside you, Wooyoung pinches sharply at your clit — and he grins against your cheek when you shatter apart with a wretched sob.

“That’s it,” he coos smugly as sparks sear through you like a shockwave. “Took it all so well, milking us for all we got. Been keeping San’s cum so nice and warm for us, making room for me too. Want a taste of what we stuffed you full with?”

You’re still trembling in Wooyoung’s hold, whimpering through the persistent spikes of pleasure while he continues to rub stubborn circles on your clit. The surges slowly grow weaker but they linger, and you are unable to do anything but make a sniffling noise that you hope gets your needs across.

San seems to pick up on it, sliding his fingers out your weeping hole. But before he lets you have that taste, his fingers smear across your lips, leaving a glossy stain. Wooyoung groans at the sight and can’t resist, sucking at your bottom lip to steal the mixture of fluids away from you. You whine in protest, though you do miss his mouth when he pulls away with a playful bite.

You can’t miss him for long; San nudges his fingers past your lips, presses them down on your tongue, and your eyes roll back as you finally taste Wooyoung, San and yourself. Hungrily you suckle at his fingers, letting out a small whimper when Wooyoung dips into your cunt and takes another swipe for himself.

San’s breath shallows as your tongue swirls around him, a light flush creeping up his cheeks. You wonder if he’s thinking about how your mouth would feel on his cock. You certainly are.

…That is for another time though, when you are not exhausted to the bone, fighting the urge to curl up and fall asleep on the spot. (Right now, it’s very hard to remember why you insisted on a ‘no sleepovers’ rule.)

San slips his fingers out when you and Wooyoung both quiet down, and turns his attention to your wrists. “Let’s get these off of you,” he says gently, tapping the rope.

San and Wooyoung help you to sit upright against the headboard, and this time Wooyoung is the one to get you some water while San begins to expertly loosen the knots.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, glancing up at you. His gaze is still intense, though now also soft.

“No numbness, tingling feeling or pain,” you say in a tired sigh, reciting back the points he told you to be aware of. “Well… no pain there,” you chuckle. “Think I’ll be sore in some places tomorrow. But I don’t mind that. Not at all.”

“Hm, good,” San hums, and directs his focus back to your restraints. Silence falls between you, not even broken when Wooyoung returns by your side and carefully raises the glass of water to your lips, assisting you with taking slow sips. The ropes come undone — but San does not let you go just yet, taking his time to gently massage your wrists for circulation.

You look down on San’s thumbs rubbing into your skin, your thoughts winding back over the course of the evening. Suddenly you feel oddly vulnerable; even with San’s careful touch, and Wooyoung sidling up next to you after he set the glass away, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

Wooyoung grins and pinches at San’s cheek, praising him for taking such good care of you. San’s lips spread into that sweet shy smile, his eyes shining warmly when he quickly glances to you and Wooyoung. It’s safe and comfortable around them, a happy fuzz coating your memories; yet you can’t help a pinch of self-consciousness as you think back on one particular moment of the evening.

“Did I do okay?” you ask, feeling silly even as the question slips past your lips.

San’s eyes widen slightly, his hands stilling, while Wooyoung’s arm tightens around you and he immediately turns his praises on you. Of course you did well, he assures you. What a fucking champ, taking it all like that. Their good girl. How lucky they are with you.

You bite your lip in a small smile as Wooyoung’s words hum sweetly through your veins, but San frowns in concern.

“Did something happen?” he asks, still gentle but a firmness layered underneath. “Something worrying you?”

“Well—” you say, already feeling awkward. “I said ‘yellow’…”

“As you should have,” San says, even firmer this time. “Are you feeling guilty about that?”

“A little,” you admit; the people-pleaser inside you is a bit ruffled by bluntly asserting a boundary. “I know I shouldn’t, but— but I kinda feel like I should apologise.”

San shakes his head and squeezes your hands tightly. “Don’t you dare. If anything, I should say thank you. For helping me to keep you safe and feeling good. That makes it feel good for me too.” He breaks out another smile, his dimples joining in. “I felt good today. I hope you did too.”

“He really means all that, you know,” Wooyoung chimes in. “About thanking you. Never met anyone who cares more about this stuff than San here.” He leans in, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial hush. “I swear, he almost nutted on the spot the first time I yellow-ed him.”

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you?” San says, rolling his eyes with a flustered flush burning across his face, and you relax with a giggle at their familiar bickering and warm reassurances. “I mean,” San mumbles sheepishly, “ideally you’d never have to use a safe word at all; but as convenient as it’d be in a situation like this, I can’t exactly read your mind—”

“Hey, hey,” Wooyoung cuts off San’s ramble with a laugh. “C’mon, you know I’m just teasing!” He grabs San’s chin to smack an exaggeratedly wet kiss on his cheek. “You’re the fucking best. Who needs a mind reader when we’re doing this together. You got our back, we got yours.”

San sighs in resignation, trapped by Wooyoung’s firm grip on his chin as Wooyoung makes a show of lavishing his face with loud, dramatic kisses — but you don’t miss the way his shoulders release tension, and his hands relax around yours.

You feel a burst of warmth at the obvious affection on display in front of you, and your guilt fades.

Finally Wooyoung lets San go free and cuddles up a little closer against you, while San presses up on the other side. Sandwiched between them, you blissfully surrender yourself to their attentive aftercare. And once you feel solid enough to move again, they both insist on escorting you the whole thirty paces from San’s bedroom to yours.

you sit on the opposite bench from said man, coffee lukewarm as you grip the reusable plastic, desperately trying to look anywhere but directly in front of you. should you feel this way? he's always been the one man you can count on, the one man who never hesitated to help. kindness seemed to flow through his skin as if it was his own blood. he's the opposite of you, the person you've desired to be. your lips tremble as you take in another exaggerated amount of air, eyes glued to the way his pen glides along the paper, glasses resting on the tip of his nose. you can remember the day you joined him on his exam; his eyes wide in shock when the optometrist told him his sight was worse than yours. oh how you wish you can turn back time, forget everything after that moment. somehow change things.

there are often times that you wish that you did not feel the way you felt. that your friend of four years did not make your chest ache so painfully. you hated liking someone, hated the dread, the anxiety that filled your body in every little interaction. you cross your legs, pulling a stray strand from tickling your cheek. your heartbeat fills your ears, your mouth dry.

maybe if you were able to turn back the clock – never stumbling upon him in that bathroom with san, lips pressed together, arms in a tight embrace. maybe if you were not insistent on checking up on him, things would be different. you would still only look at him as your best friend.

"surprised you haven't run over to him," your other friend slides next to you, his own coffee up to his lips. his headphones are his scarf, pale cheeks coated with a light blush. he wiggles his brows, nudging your shoulder as he continues. "traumatized just like the rest of us?"

"how so?" your brow lifts, finally shifting to him. "something new happened?"

"much of the same. san fucks another coworker, it spreads. seonghwa seems to be the victim this time, though. a bit sad, you know. he really thought they had something."

another thing you've forgotten. seonghwa told you of his own crush. choi san. everyone knows how he is, the endless list of conquests not ending anytime soon. you've warned him that san never took things like this seriously, but he refused to listen to you. insisted that it would be different. that he himself is different from the rest. there was no jealousy behind your intentions until you saw it in action. san making eye contact with you. the smirk crossing his lips. it's just something you can't get out of your head.

"i haven't spoken about it with him yet," you admit, sighing. "i should have already, it's just been so busy and–"

"and he needs his best friend," hongjoong lifts his cup, gesturing to him. "he has been knee deep in that project, distracting himself. it's been days already."

you want to say you know, but it'll only make matters worse. you aren't sure what san said to seonghwa, if he ever told him of your presence just on the other side of the door. and it scares you that he might have. there was no hiding the look you gave the two of them no matter how much you tried to hide it. envy? jealously? bitterness? in the end they are all one in the same.

"i'll talk to him."

—

you didn't. hands folded in your head in the staff library, staring at the endless shelves, a pout on your lips. you are not short by any means, but the shelves are high enough to touch the ceilings. and the one book you need rests at the very top. your eyes shift to the ladder next to you, immediately tensing. climbing up over eight feet is not on your agenda (and in fact, never was), so here you stand. anger rising.

"you could have called me."

seonghwa stands there in all his glory – black turtleneck tucked into his pressed slacks, familiar black boots covering his feet, pretty round glasses resting on top of his head. how have you not noticed how effortlessly handsome he was before? he tilts his head at you, a small smile on his lips.

"we've been over this plenty of times. can't read into that big mind of yours. gotta say it out loud." he slides the ladder as you step back, slowly ascending to the shelf you need. you don't even tell him which book it is that you want, his long fingers delicately plucking it off the shelf.

"you’ve been so involved with the project i didn't want to interrupt because of my fear," you frown. "if hongjoong or mingi came around i would've asked them."

"mingi?" he snorts. "he's as afraid of heights as you, maybe more."

"you are too and yet here you are," you gesture to him as he makes his way down. "my knight in shining armor, always."

"it's my job when it comes to you, pretty," he laughs, finally back on the floor. he's always called you pretty, but with your growing feelings it only makes you sink further into regret.

just as he's about to pass the book back to you he stops, smile slowly fading. "you think i haven't noticed your lack of appearance, birdie? it's been over a week and you've barely texted me. your hourly knocks on my office door haven't happened, at all."

this isn't the way you wanted to do this. in all honesty you didn't even mean to avoid him, but your fear of how you feel is getting to you. especially as he stands here now, worry in his eyes as he waits for you to say something. anything.

"i’m sorry about san."

his hold on the book tightens, brows furrowed. "birdie–"

"i know you're going to say that i don't need to worry or that you'll be fine. and i know i messed up not speaking about it with you until now when i know how you felt about your relationship. i've been a horrible friend, hwa. and that feeling grew inside of me to the point where i was scared to speak to you."

seonghwa looks at you, eyes flicking between yours. he swallows slowly, tucking the book beneath his arm. without another word he takes your hand, pulling you through the stacks of books, weaving in and out the rows. you see plenty of people on your way with him. if they find it strange they don't say a word about it. he opens the balcony door, guiding you through. the wind blows past the two of you, bumps rising on your arm.

the two of you often ventured out here. away from prying eyes. away from lingering gazes. some nights you would stand next to each other and let your hearts speak untainted words. after this conversation surfaces, you're not too sure how this place would be comforting anymore. seonghwa stops pacing after a moment, eyes meeting yours.

"san told me."

"what did he say?" you ask softly. you know. it would be foolish for you not to.

"y/n," seonghwa sighs. "he told me."

no.

"i mean, i just thought it was nothing. i thought you were freaked out seeing us like that but–"

no. no.

"–maybe it's more than that? is it more than that, birdie?" he stops pacing, looking to you. "am i more than that to you?"

the hollowness of your chest grows as he stands there, putting the pieces together. it was fine, everything was fine. you were okay with feeling this way for him. everything was supposed to be okay. should you lie? will it make him stop?

"i know what you're thinking. and don't," he holds up his hand, shaking his head. "don't you dare lie to me."

"we've been best friends since we were kids, hwa."

"don't do that to me." His voice cracks at the end. "please."

"san is just talking, trying to mend things over between the two of you. there's nothing more to it."

he shakes his head, "we always tell each other the truth, so i can tell when you're lying."

"we can't do this, hwa." you're not sure if he can hear your words over the wind. "i don't want to do this with you."

"so we just pretend it's nothing? i pretend that you don't like me more than a friend and you pretend that you never saw san fucking me? is that it? your bright solution?"

you hate this. it's becoming more tainted.

"seonghwa, please–"

"no," his voice rises, and he stops, tongue dragging across his lips. his words are calmer this time. "no. i waited over a week for you to come to me and say something but you didn't say a word. and i thought that you were just embarrassed, you know? i thought that was it so i decided to come see you myself. but when you looked at me, you were afraid. you looked at me with fear, birdie." the cracks are forming. "and that's when i knew. i knew that despite how much of an asshole choi is, he was not lying when he said that you were probably in love with me. just, please. how long?"

"i don't know."

"y/n–"

"i don't fucking know, seonghwa! i'm not lying. i didn't know until i saw the two of you and..." you look away from him to the city landscape. though you've always felt small, it's never been this apparent. "and i felt it. i felt it, and i didn't know how to react or what to do so i stupidly thought it was best to ignore it. hoped that it would go away."

"love does not just go away, birdie. not like that."

you look back at him, your lips growing drier as the wind gusts hit the two of you. his hands are fists, eyes flicking between yours. love does not just go away. he said that and yet why is he looking at you with everything but?

"push me away," you say. his face finally gives you some sort of emotion. brows furrowed in confusion, lips parted. "you didn't ask for this and neither did i. so tell me to go away. tell me you don't want to be friends with me anymore. tell me to leave."

"birdie–"

"tell me to fucking leave, hwa, or ill do it myself."

"go, then. just, go."

you close your eyes. "okay." there's no reason for you to look back at him, let yourself fall into a deeper hole. so you move past him, ignoring what you believe is a sob escaping his lips. you ignore it despite everything you've been through. you ignore it because you're not sure how you will ever be able to fix this.

-

sliding back into your chair, you stare at the glass on the marble top. is it your third? fourth? you told the bartender to cut you off at some point, but it all feels like a blur now. you feel a bit of the buzz, but it's still not enough to pull you away from your thoughts.

"you look broken."

"is that the pickup line you're starting with? must be a rough night."

his chuckle is surprisingly low, seeping into your ears. "not quite a pick up line, no. but you look afraid, hurt. not uncommon at bars, but yours looks different."

you still have not turned to him. "how so?"

"it looks like your world was taken away from you."

your eyes flick to him. the soft light of the bar makes his skin glow, eyes on yours. they're a deeper brown, a marking on his temple, fading into his eye. if it is a scar or a birthmark you're not too sure, but it makes his face only more interesting to look at. handsome is an understatement, the curl of his lips, lift of his brow making you look away. devilishly handsome men just seem to never leave you alone. fortunate for him though, your heart is too broken to jump into the bed of another.

so you tell him as such.

"if you're trying to fuck me just give up now. this sad, broken woman isn't going to cry into your arms."

"if i wanted that i would have gone to someone else, miss," he takes a long sip of his drink, humming. "just conversation."

"why?"

"you looked like you needed someone to talk to. but if I'm being presumptuous, tell me, i'll go away."

quiet.

"you're not far off."

"hm?"

"about my world falling apart, being taken away from me. you're not far off. my best friend found out i was in love with him and i told him to get pissed at me and leave. he never did. i was the one who ran. i was the one who ran, and yet here i am. drowning my heartbreak in whatever the fuck this drink is," you eyeball the glass next to you. "a whiskey sour, maybe?"

"you're right."

you hold your face in your hands. "and now i'm confessing my fucking woes to a stranger because i have no one else. everyone i know knows him, so they'd probably tell him what i'm doing, and he'll come over and yell at me for being irresponsible and call a taxi home for me and i'll have to pretend that i don't want him–" you stop in the middle of your rant, glancing to the side.

"i'm sorry."

he waves you off, "never apologize for your feelings. you needed to let it out. who am i to stop you?"

"just a bit shocked you haven't run yet."

he snickers this time, rolling his eyes. "you are quite something. you're pissed that someone might come here and force you back home. and yet you're telling me what to do with my time? a bit ironic."

"i…" you trail off. "fuck, you're right."

"thank you for thinking so," he teases. "and if i can, i'd like to comment on your dilemma. though i doubt the words of a stranger will do much, i hope i can be of some help."

"take it away, stranger."

he gives you a brief smile, before looking at the glass in his hand, thinking. "in my long life, i've had many heartaches and regrets. i've hurt myself as well as others along the process. but what i have learned is that letting your thoughts linger on their own only hurts more. so your choice of telling him was the right thing to do despite how it may have ended. and from what you're saying, he still loves you just the same. he's kind."

"waiting for the advice to kick in," you note, and he only laughs.

"he loves you. he would be a fool not to. there are few men who would do as you say if they didn't. i know this is the opposite of what you want, but speak to him again. he may be at another bar crying over you as you are over him. actually, i’m sure he is."

"he wouldn't cry over–"

"he would," the stranger interrupts, taking another sip. "if you listen to none of my words then listen to this: you are giving yourself no credit. he loves you. if your relationship is as special as you say, he will be crying at the end of the bar, swallowing his sorrows, just as you are now."

you swallow slowly. your mouth feels dry now, the alcoholic drinks somehow making you feel utterly sober. you push the glass further away, taking the last sip of the bottle of water in front of you. the stranger watches as you think.

"i'm not sure i'm ready for that. the confrontation, that is. i'm scared."

"and admitting that is brave in itself," he glances at the drink near you, waving the bartender over. "may i request another bottled water for the lady, and a coke for myself?"

the woman disappears down the bar after hearing the order. "i'm not usually this bad at drinking."

"i can tell. you've tended a few glasses already, love," he thanks the bartender, passing you the water. "it's cold, perhaps it'll wake you up sooner."

"drowning my sorrows, uh…" you blank on his name. "wait, did i just go on a rant without even introducing myself?"

"that you did."

if you could shrivel away into nothingness you would. "y/n. yourself?"

"kang yeosang."

“nice to meet you, kang yeosang,” you smile.

“likewise, y/n.”

“and thank you for the drink. you shouldn’t have.” you take a sip of the water. “i owe you.”

“do you?” he raises his eyebrows, taking a sip of coke. “then i ask only this: take care of yourself, and don’t listen to other strangers’ advice. and,” his eyes glance at the open bottle in front of you, hand moving over the top of the glass as he slides it closer to him. “don’t leave your other drinks out in the open, please.” he takes it away from you, “i saw a man pour something into it while you were gone.”

the buzz washes away at his words, “what?”

“that’s why i came over. he’s been watching you for a while now. i’ve already alerted the bartender, and the police should be here any moment now,” he covers the contaminated drink with a napkin. "I couldn't find the right moment to tell you, so i decided to let you speak while i watched your drinks."

insults at yourself begin to swirl in your head. how could you be so oblivious to it happening right in front of you? yeosang just stumbled upon it on his night out. if he wasn't here… you could only guess what would happen.

"is he still here?" your voice is lower now. body rigged.

yeosang pauses for a moment, before nodding. "yes. but he hasn't approached you since i've been lingering around you."

is it wrong of you to ask for him to stay?

"i won't leave until i know you're safe," he acknowledges the worried look in your eyes, a small smile gracing his lips. "we don't know each other well, but i'll keep my distance. if you don't mind it, of course. this situation is uncomfortable enough. i can leave you–"

"no!" your voice comes out louder than you'd like, your face warming briefly. "no. i want you to stay. if that's okay with you."

he nods. "it is."

the police arrive quickly, yeosang helping them identify and apprehend the suspect. he never leaves your side throughout the whole process, piecing things together that you haven't noticed at all. he keeps the same calm demeanor as before, giving the officers as much information as he can. you're more than grateful for his presence, soothing the long night you've had. eventually though, the police leave with the man.

the quiet air surrounding the bar is a bit unsettling now, knowing what you could have suffered. the two words you've wished to say to him throughout this ordeal are stuck in your throat. is it nerves? maybe. you were just never good with things like this. but still, he saved you. he didn't need to, but he did.

the thought makes the words come easier.

"thank you."

"not necessary," he waves you off easily. "anyone would have done something if they saw."

"but no one saw except for you. so i’m more than grateful. i don't know how to repay you–"

he shakes his head again. "no repayment. nothing. i've settled my thoughts now knowing you're safe. i do want to say something though. it may be overstepping my position as a little more than a stranger, but i do hope you stray away from the alcohol tonight. you're drunk, and it… may bother me a bit, knowing you're here alone."

the words of a stranger shouldn't make your chest float.

"alright."

time passes by fast as yeosang stands with you outside, the two of you watching the perpetrator being placed in handcuffs. though the police asked if you would like to ride with them and you explicitly stated no, yeosang offered to help you to the police station. pressing charges against a stranger on a night like this is the last thing you want to do, but having him attempt to do this to another innocent person would riddle you with guilt. you’re quiet throughout the small diatribe that the officer gives you, that overwhelming feeling again settling within you.

“must she go?” yeosang asks the officer, glancing over at you. “i was the one who witnessed it. there isn’t much for her to say other than she ordered a drink.”

“is that so? then are you willing to come instead?”

“of course. i’ll follow after you.”

the police officer thanks him again before leaving, disappearing into the oddly quiet night. yeosang looks you over, concerned. “would you like me to walk you to the train station?”

“that’s not necessary,” you say quickly. “it’s only a block or so away.”

he nods again. “well, please stay safe. don't,” he pauses, looking away. “don't follow strangers around. you seem to be sober enough, but still.”

“worried?” you ask, a bit cheeky.

“i am.”

there is no teasing in his voice, jaw tightening as he looks at you. conflicting emotions cross his gaze. you're not sure what to think of it yourself.

“you’re a stranger you know.”

he sighs, “i am.”

“can i have your phone number?” you ask. “just to let you know when i'm home safe. so you don't have to worry. and you can give it to the police if they need it.”

his smile is cheeky, the plush of his cheeks lifting. it makes the hard angles of his face softer, eyes rounder. you aren’t one to call men adorable, but there’s no other description you could think of. he digs into his jacket pocket, a sleek black phone appearing in his hands. without a response, he holds it out to you. you quickly type in your number underneath his quiet gaze, texting yourself. once confirming, you hand it back to him.

he stares at it for a moment, then hums. “perfect. don't forget about messaging me, y/n.” he tilts his head slightly, bowing. you do the same back, giving him one last glance before heading to the station. the itch of not looking back irks you, but you do so anyway. unfortunately in those brief seconds, he had already left the front of the bar. hm.

he must walk pretty fast.

–

you don’t message him.

it’s not like you promised the man that you’d do it, it was merely a suggestion. and he has your contact information, he can reach out if he'd like. once you arrived home that night you came to your senses. one - speaking to strangers about your personal problems should be saved for therapy - and two - you should not give said strangers your personal information after trauma dumping. the thought of you crying your heart out to him is embarrassing enough, you’re only glad you were too intoxicated to realize how embarrassing it was. sobriety may be in your future.

you push the cart down the tight aisle, careful not to push it into one of the shelves. you’ve left your job since telling seonghwa. but books have always been a home for you, so it took a bit, but you were able to find another small library placement not too far from your apartment. it didn’t pay as well since your position was based on seniority, but it’s enough for you to be comfortable.

you stop in one aisle, glancing down at the book in your hand before looking ahead. it is just your luck that you see the man of the hour.

he holds an identical copy in his hands, sunglasses tucked in his hair, resting on the top of his head. prescription glasses - this is your assumption - on the brim of his nose as he reads. his blond hair is as alluring as that night, the redness of his birthmark seen behind a few strands. his clothing is lightweight aside from the open brown trench coat; collared cotton button up, pleated pants, white shoes. a simple outfit and yet he stands out amongst the rest. your mind wasn’t making things up - his beauty is beyond what you can comprehend, just like your old best friend’s. hands flip through the book, lips slightly curved as he skims the pages. his soft brown eyes look up from his reading, meeting yours. you hope that he does not remember you, but recognition flashes in his gaze, cheeks lifting as he smiles. he lifts the glasses off his face, slipping them into the lining of his coat.

“it seems that you have gotten home well,” is the first thing that leaves yeosang’s mouth, book shutting. he places it back in its spot.

“i did,” there is no use lying to him that you couldn’t remember. the stillness of your body alone is enough for him to see the guilt hanging around you. “i’m sorry i didn’t let you know.”

“you had no obligation to a stranger,” he shrugs. “it would have been nice, but i didn’t expect much.”

“still, i should have said something,” you step closer to him, placing the book on the shelf. how awful that he smells really good too. sickening, even. “i was too scared to. after that night.”

his brows furrow, “scared? did i do something to upset you? or did someone else bother you?”

“no no,” you say quickly. “scared was a bad word to choose. maybe, embarrassed? i mean, i can’t believe i spilled my guts to a man that sat next to me at a bar on a random night,” you can feel your face warming. “i don’t think i’ll ever live it down.”

he smiles, shaking his head. “i told you it didn’t bother me. and i was glad to be your comfort, stranger or not. are you alright?”

he is still caring, even after you’ve decided not to message him. you nod, holding the book between your sweaty palms, “i am.”

“then all is well,” he steps around you. the wool of his coat brushes against your arm, leaving goosebumps in its wake. his perfume stuns you for a brief moment, grip tightening on the book. he glances at the shelves, before stepping out the aisle. you cannot help but think this may be your last chance of running into him — you’re not sure what reason you have to keep him around you for a while longer. but you step out the aisle, mouth ready to call out to him.

instead, your body almost collides with his, his hands wrapping around your upper arms to steady you. the touch is brief, though your stomach twists at his touch. he’s a bit cold, letting go once he sees you adjust yourself. he tucks a stray hair away from his face, cheeks lifted in a smile.

“this may be presumptuous of me, and i didn’t want to make any suggestions that night because of the situation. and i know you’re in a bad spot right now and it may not be a good time, but…” he clears his throat. “would you like to hang out? not a bar, not drinking. but a cafe maybe?”

your smile matches his, “yes.”

his small smile is endearing as he nods, looking away from you. “great.”

“good.”

he laughs, “seems like we’re both not good at this.”

“not at all. but at least we’re not good together.”

though he does not blush, his lips tremble, eyes scattering across your face as you say the words. perhaps he does not blush at all, but you can tell your words flustered him. he licks his lips, “i’ll message you, i’m free tonight.”

“so am i.”

“then it’s a date.”

he holds out his hand, and you take it, ready to shake. instead he lifts yours, his lips lightly brushing against the back of it. “a date.”

—

the air is calming between the two of you. shy glances back and forth, your fingers playing with the lining of your shirt, his dragging along the thin layer of shirt he wears. he is not cold, he told you this several times. his laugh echoes around the small cafe, cheeks lifting when he notices how loud he is. neither of you say much but it is plenty enough. he makes you forget about your heartache, your hurt. he shines rather brightly in the low light. you haven’t the need to focus on him fully, his presence effortless in comforting your heart. it is equally enjoyable and terrifying all at once. who would have though that after several dates you’d still feel terribly shy in front of him.

“can i see you again?” you ask after a moment of quiet laughter. it is something silly you’ve asked each time you’ve met up. it’s become a routine now, his smile too hard to resist each time you utter the words.

he takes a sip of his coffee. black. not something you’d choose for yourself, but he seems to enjoy it. it’s his second already. “of course. i hoped you would ask,” he admits jokingly, fingers pushing his hair away from his face. “i do enjoy being around you.”

“flattery only gets you so far,” you frown, though it is anything but irritation.

“it is only the truth,” he shrugs.

  if your face could turn red it would at his words, it would. your lips enclose around the metal straw, its cool temperature soothing. “have you had any partners recently?”

he shakes his head, “not in a long time. relationships were never something i considered.”

oh.

you try not to show how that affects you, but it seems to be spelled out in the expression you make. he continues speaking.

“but i think i’ve changed my mind rather recently,” he adds, avoiding your gaze completely. “and if that person is still… mending themselves, i am willing to wait.”

“even if it is long? what if it’s years?” there is no teasing in your tone, now. you are undoubtedly serious. you enjoy yeosang, you enjoy him being around you. but you wouldn’t ever want to hold him back from something he wants. no matter how much it’d hurt you - that devastation you felt yourself was enough. having the kind man in front of you experience even a fraction of what you have felt is terrible to fathom.

“love,” his hand reaches out, covering yours. though he insists that he’s not cold, you can feel it on his skin. but the word that he’s just said, let slip from his lips. love.

he called you love.

“i will wait for you,” he does not look away from you. “i will wait years if i have to.”

“yeosang, we’ve known each other for only a few months,” you shake your head, “it’s ridiculous to hold yourself back from someone you barely know.”

his fingers wrap around yours, humming, “right? i, i’ve met so many people in my life. but relationships were something i just did not desire. but,” he laughs. “your presence might have changed it all for me.”

you could only giggle, placing your free hand against your face, holding in your embarrassment. you are not one to declare your feelings as forward as he could. after a couple of seconds of letting his words sink in, you look back at him. his gaze is so clearly unswayed, held tilted barely as it rests on his hand.

“okay.”

“okay?” his brow raises.

“okay, i’m okay with that.”

his smile only grows, “so am i.”

-

though the two of you have never uttered that you were partners, you are exclusively seeing one another in a sense. he often rested at your place – on the couch, never in your room. you never went inside his place, though you’ve seen the outside of it. a tall building, one in a district you’ve avoided your whole life. yeosang never bragged about how much money he earned, but he told you that he was wealthy. enough so that he only traveled once or twice a month for work. he said it was business but again, didn’t elaborate. at the time you should have questioned him more about it but he changed the subject before your mind could truly settle on it.

and one night, out of the blue, he invites you to his place. you decided to go to the convenience store just before, stepping inside the well-lit area, scanning the ramyeon shelves. a startled oh pulls your attention away from the assortment, looking to your side.

if it were possible for a heart to physically shatter, this moment would be it. choi san stands there, eyes wide, hands wrapped around a bag of chips. he looks nervous and worried, glancing back then looking at you. your smile is strained. you grab whatever is in reach, turning down the aisle and going to the register. the employee greets you but you can’t muster a response, hand gripping the curve of the counter. thoughts elsewhere.

you never thought you’d run into any of them ever again, especially since hongjoong told you yourself that no one really ventured in this neighborhood. you wish he were here now to distract you from your inner turmoil. you thank the employee with your eyes, not bothering to look around and exiting the store.

“y/n, please wait!”

you hear his voice behind you. running would be silly, and you’re an adult right? dealing with your issues in person, rather than running from them. that’s what you’re supposed to do. so despite the sorrow and hurt that is merely simmering at the surface, you look at san. he looks as handsome as he always does, though his eyes are moist now, hands wrapped around his bag. he stops once he sees you turned around.

“hi, san.” you say, “i have somewhere to be–”

“i didn’t think it through,” he starts promptly, not bothering to greet you properly. “i thought it was just another hookup, y/n. fuck, i mean, i didn't know he liked me like that. or had feelings that were more than just wanting to fuck. everyone around that place knows how i am, i just," san sighs loudly. his fingers trembled as he pushed them through his hair. "seonghwa is a good guy. one of the best i know. i'd never break his heart on purpose. i didn't know what to do anymore. i wanted to tell you what i felt so i was going to. and then you left the place entirely so i couldn't even talk to you about it and–"

"i don't blame you, san," you say softly, noticing his spiral. "i don't think he blames you either. he takes stuff like this hard, that's all. seonghwa doesn't hate you, he doesn't hate anyone. but i doubt you'd be the same if the person you like rejects you. it takes a while to get back to yourself. this is him taking that time."

he rubs his face, nodding at your words. "you think so?"

"we were best friends for longer than i can count. i know– knew, him better than i know myself. i'm more than sure."

“i didn’t know you had a thing for him, y/n. i said it at the time because i didn't know how to let him down easy. i really didn't know it was true.”

there it is. the conversation you’ve avoided for months now. the heartbreak that you’ve hidden so deeply inside of you. yeosang never mentioned it and neither did you. but seeing san, knowing that his hookup with seonghwa is what started it all. it’s not his fault, but seeing him again now, in front of you, makes it harder. you rub your face, closing your eyes.

“i didn’t know either, san. but it’s been a long time since it happened. we shouldn’t let something so long ago bother us now. i’m okay.”

relief seems to sink into him, “i’m sorry. and i’m sorry for telling him, it was shitty of me.”

“it’s okay, you don’t need to apologize. things happen. but i’m okay now. it’s okay.”

“right, you are,” his gaze flicks to how your hand trembles as you hold your bag. “there’s so much more to say, but i don’t want to hold you up any longer. you probably have somewhere to be.”

“i do, but thank you,” you pause. “thank you for stopping me too. i hope you’re well. i hope you and everyone else at the place are healthy. send them my greetings.”

“i will,” he smiles, dimples intending his cheeks. san has always been a kind man. you’ve never had any ill will towards him, he just ended up in the middle of it all. “i’m sure seonghwa would like to hear that.”

–

your hair sticks to your forehead. makeup trickles down your cheeks, staining your shirt. your plastic bag grew too heavy for you to hold, sitting on the side of you as you stare out into the streets. you haven’t moved from the front of the market.

your phone ran out of charge long ago, tucked inside your bag. you tried to grab it, knowing that yeosang probably called, but you couldn’t bring yourself to answer. the incident with seonghwa was months ago, it was so long ago. you shouldn’t be this upset.

you shouldn’t be this hurt.

hearing his name after such a long time, you thought you’d be okay. you thought that you would handle it easily. but his name, along with seeing san? it was all too much.

is there something wrong with you? he didn’t die, he’s probably living well without you. and yet you mourn. your tears hidden beneath the rain, body shivering. you should try to get to yeosang. let him know you’re okay.

you should do that.

you look down at the sidewalk beneath you. people walk past. some have glanced at you, but none have pulled you from this. what is this? why can’t you describe it?

you’re cold.

“hey.”

you barely look up from where you are. an older man stands there, vaguely familiar. you think back for a moment – ah, the employee in the store. mustering up words is just too much effort now. so you meekly nod, water splattering against your face. his hand touches your shoulder and you tense up.

“a pretty woman like you shouldn't be out here alone.”

your lips tremble, nudging his hand away. he only tightens his grip, your eyes widening. your chest tightens, body unwilling to move. you've never been in such a situation, filled with too much fear to force your mind out of its despair. just as he begins to lean down, a loud sound fills your ears. you close your eyes, the ringing harsh against your temple. enough so that it consumes your thoughts.

you should call him.

the hum of a car stops in front of you. the door slamming should have startled you, but you’ve grown too numb from the sound to react. you feel those familiar cold hands on your cheeks. it’s enough for you to look up. the mark looks darker in this low light, brown against his temple, fading into the curve of his eyes. his thumbs rub your cheeks, eyes flicking between yours. neither of you say a word, but you feel how he pulls you into his chest. you cannot remember when the sobs began. but they engulf you, hands finally able to move, arms wrapped around his body as he pulls you into him. you’re too overwhelmed to say anything, but you hear him. you hear his words.

i’m here for you.

i know, i know.

it hurts a lot, i know.

let’s get you somewhere warm.

–

you sit on his sofa. he’s given you his clothing to change into, an older pair of sweats and sweater. he hasn’t touched you since bringing you back to his place, careful to avoid your skin. a cup of steaming medicinal tea sits on the small coffee table, cookies you love next to it. your eyes flick to the screen, television playing your favorite cartoon.

yeosang does not say a word as he cooks in the kitchen, humming every once in a while. he has not broken the silence and neither have you. your heart has settled down a bit, enough for you to speak. are you scared to start? yes. yeosang has never been once to pry, always allowing you your own space to say what you wanted. it’s something you’ve admired since you’ve met him. there was never any pushing from him. he let you open up yourself.

“it was san,” your voice is low. you’re afraid that he has not heard you at all, but his humming stops.

“the hookup?”

you thank him silently for his good memory. “yes. he… we ran into each other inside that convenience store. he said sorry for everything. then he said his name, and i…”

you couldn’t breathe.

“it hurt.”

“it did,” you murmur. “i thought it’d be fine, speaking to him. since it’s been so long, i thought i’d be fine. but i wasn’t, yeosang. it felt like the first day that i told seonghwa to never speak to me again. it just felt like too much.”

“you have yet to mourn what you’ve lost, love,” yeosang enters the living room, sitting on the couch across from you. “it will hurt for a while even if you’ve accepted that he was no longer in your life. he’s your best friend.”

“was,” you correct. yeosang doesn’t comment on that, continuing.

“it will take time.”

you hide your face, sighing. “and i’ve only just opened myself up to you because i was afraid of my hurt. i cannot believe i let you see me that way.”

“you know that that doesn't bother me. we care for each other, y/n. i hope that we can see each other at our best and at our worst.”

“that’s the thing,” you look up. “you’ve been seeing me at my worst this whole time, you haven’t even seen me at my best and yet you’ve stayed.”

yeosang looks at you, hand resting on his knee. he closes his eyes for a moment, breathing slowly. “that is because i haven’t told you all of what i’ve been dealt, y/n.”

you can feel that ill feeling slowly come back. he seems to sense it, quickly speaking.

“it is nothing against you, that i assure you. but this might not be the best time to say anything more. you are still hurt. i’d rather you not be overwhelmed with it all.”

“are you a criminal or something?” you joke, though there is a bit of curiosity within the jab. yeosang has not shown you anything negative so you cannot quite guess what he’s hiding. you haven’t seen his family yet or friends, so maybe it’s that? letting your mind wander will only make it worse.

“no.”

“yeosang–”

"i’m a vampire."

"and i am a fairy," you snort, rolling your eyes. yeosang thinks for a moment, eyes flicking over yours.

"i'd believe it since your beauty matches one of the fae, but your personality does not. there's not a conniving cell in your body, love."

“you’re joking,” your brows furrow, staring at him. he does not give you the usual small smile, nor does he laugh at your confusion. no, all he does is stare at you, waiting for a response. you can only look at him, eyes flicking over his face. oh, you’ve fallen for a man who lost his mind, then?

your luck just seems to continuously run out.

“you look like you’re going to run,” he says, attempting to reach you. you move away, and he does not try to chase you. he observes you as you stand from your spot, body tensing the more you look at him.

his beauty has always been something you’ve noticed, something that’s occupied your mind more times than not. but you’ve seen him eating, seen him drink coffee and swallow slices of pizza with you. from what you’ve learned of vampires (via various forms of media), they cannot stomach human food.

“how?”

he shrugs, “it has been a millennia, y/n, and i still don’t have the answer to that.”

“i mean,” you wave your hands around. “you’ve eaten food with me, you’ve had drinks with me. you’ve done all of that, and not once have i seen you drink blood.” your stomach turns at the thought. “yeosang, you’re joking with me, right? this is just a weird test or something?”

“what would i be testing on you, love?”

“i don’t know–”

“y/n, listen to me carefully.” he still does not move from his spot, but his eyes meet yours, his lips trembling slightly. “i was born as a vampire. i was not turned into this creature. i have met several of my kind over the centuries. most of us avoid one another since we are not really friendly. we stay on our own most of our lives. there may be times where you see one or two together, but rarely more than that. i am alone,” he says slowly. “i have not told a human soul what i am since i was a child. you are the only one who knows, on this earth.”

“because people would think you’re out of your mind?”

“that,” he agrees. “and because i am rare, one of less than a hundred. and humans are fond of dissecting things they do not understand. though my life has been long, i have still a lot of it left. i’d rather not die early.”

his words are just unreal. no matter how he explains it to you, you just cannot accept them as true. he seems to know that as well, sighing softly. “you do not believe me?”

“i believe that you think that’s what you are. have you ever seen a doctor for your condition?”

“y/n, as i have told you–”

“right,” you nod slowly. “the whole i’m-the-only-human-who-knows thing.”

“would you like me to prove it to you?" he does not wait for an answer, standing up from his spot and walking off. you do not follow, eyes widening when you see him come back with a knife in his hand. he sits down at the coffee table, legs folded. “this is the only way you’d believe me.”

“yeosang, i believe you,” you watch as he lifts the knife. “yeosang!”

his eyes meet yours briefly, smiling, “don’t worry.” he drops it, the chopping sound echoing around you. you scream, hands rushing to cover your eyes. the sound is horrid, there is no description of how the slicing of flesh resonates. the metal clings as it hits the floor. there is no howl of pain, no sound of him falling to the floor with the knife. nothing at all. you’re terrified to open your hands and see what he’s done.

“you have to look quickly before it heals, y/n,” he says softly. “please, do this one thing for me.”

“i swear, yeosang,” you hesitantly look at him, flinching once you see what’s in front of you. there are no splatters of blood. his hand is not on his wrist at all. but what you do see, oh, it’s indescribable. his amputated hand slowly slides back to his wrist stump. the sound is like bones cracking as it attaches itself. the two of you watch, skin sinking into each other, smoothing over until it appears that nothing has happened at all.

you’re stunned.

“you are all i can trust,” he says, wiggling his fingers. “this might be a lot to take in but–”

you raise your hand, “hold on.”

as moronous his confession is, it makes sense, oddly. sure, there’s no possible explanation for how he could possibly chop off his wrist, especially without as much as a scream from him. but what is his purpose - has he planned this all to entrap you? you care for him dearly, possibly love him. is this his goal all along, have you involved enough so you’re unable to leave his side? unable to make rational decisions? you from months ago would have ran out the room from a confession like this, but you just cannot. you look at your yeosang sitting on the floor, waiting for you to speak. he has not moved ever since you have, has not attempted to stop you from going anywhere. you’ve even tested it, taking a slight step back. still, not a muscle twitches.

there are several conclusions you can come to, but one is certain - yeosang at least believes that he’s a vampire. and that should utterly terrify you. but he is still your yeosang, even if he indulges in blood once in a while. and he just chopped off his hand.

for fucks sake, are you that desperate for human connection that you'll hang around a blood drinker?

are you mad?

  “y/n?” he interrupts the quiet. “you can leave if you want to. i won’t stop you if this is too much.”

that’s your yeosang, ever so caring, ever so thoughtful.

“you’re not lying?” you ask again. “you’re a vampire?”

“yes.”

“a good one?”

his lip twitches, “that's subjective, but i try to be.”

“why are you telling me now?”

he looks away from you for the first time tonight, gaze out the windows. you haven’t had the chance to look around his place because you’ve been too stuck in your sorrow, but it is him. a penthouse, but him. the city looks into the apartment as he begins.

“after seeing you so destroyed tonight, i couldn’t let myself go another day without saying it. i should have told you so long ago, but i didn’t know how involved we’d be. i thought it would be a short time we’d see each other. but i enjoy being around you. there has not gone a day since we’ve met each other at that bar that i haven’t thought of you. and it is utterly terrifying. so hiding this secret from you… i could no longer do it. i needed to know that you were not scared of me before continuing to be around you.”

“how do you know i’m not afraid?”

his smile is small, not reaching his eyes. “i have seen true terror in my lifetime, y/n. i know it when i see it.”

“if i decided i didn’t want to be this with you? what then?”

“it would be hard, but i would let you go, y/n. you’re not trapped here, you’ll never be,” he rubs his face. “do you hear me, truly? you can leave now and never come back, and that would be the end of us.”

you don’t want this to end. in fact, the mere thought of never seeing yeosang again makes you ill. you care too much for him to just go, even with information like this. so, he’s a vampire. he drinks blood. there could be worse things, no?

you cannot even believe your own thoughts.

“this is fine,” you say aloud, nodding slowly. you think back to when you were outside of the store, when that older man began to bother you. you look at yeosang. he came within seconds of that happening, barely a minute passed. it wasn’t him who helped you, was it?

“did you hurt that old man?”

yeosang stares at you, eyes flicking between the two of yours. “no.”

“are you lying?”

“i did not hurt him, y/n. i grabbed him, yes, and pulled him away from you. i told him to never touch you again, to never touch anyone else again, or else i would hurt him,” he looks down at his hands. “i wanted to kill him, if you were going to ask that next. i wanted to very badly, but i didn’t. you needed me, and i couldn’t let anyone distract me from that.”

you believe him. despite the strange circumstances, you do. you take a step closer to him, his movements frozen. your hand reaches for his, the obvious cool temperature of his making more sense now. “thank you.”

he lifts your hand, lips pressing against the surface. “you’re welcome.”

-

things changed after that.

neither you nor yeosang bring up anything that occurred that night. he does not press you about san and you don’t bring it up at all. things have progressed slightly. his tenderness is never ending; hands caressing the soft skin of your hips, lips brushing against your neck and collarbone. there’s a bit of excitement when he does that as well – knowing his true nature. he hasn’t hinted that he wants to feed off of you. you know it is due to your fear, deep down. he drinks from blood bags stored in his freezer, heating them up in the microwave. he avoids you entirely as he does so, brushing his teeth and washing himself before settling in the same room with you again. you’ve told him he didn’t need to do anything like that, that you care for him as he is, but he confessed that it’s difficult for him to be around you after drinking, bloodlust at the surface. and he’d rather you not see him that way.

“alarmingly disturbing,” he notes, nose wrinkling at the movie poster. you merely roll your eyes, passing him his small cup of soda as you walk through the outdoor mall.

“i’m sure i saw you cry at the end.”

his eyes widen, “i cannot cry, you know that well.”

“yeah yeah.”

you insisted on him going with you after his confession that he’s never entered a theater. it is magical to be with someone when they’re doing something they’ve never done before. his soft eyes widening at the large screen, words mumbled into your ear at certain scenes. his hand still hasn’t left yours after it ended.

his fingers tighten around yours as he points at the decorations, “it’s the middle of january and yet the decor is still up from the holidays. i never celebrated much but,” he takes a sip of his soda. “it is heartwarming.”

“remind you of the movie?” you grin, and he only frowns. you laugh, nudging him slightly. “it was a pretty somber ending, i know.”

“they both followed different paths, but they met each other again. i…” he sighs. “i know it’s supposed to reflect a realistic path, but they could have been together. they both wanted it.”

“some things don’t work out even if they do want each other.”

his gaze slides to yours, and your smile slips slightly, already suspecting where his thoughts lie. you look away from him, “don’t give me that look.”

“what look?” his voice is smaller this time.

“you know what look i’m talking about.”

“y/n…”

“i can’t, not right now.”

“i’m not pushing you to say anything, you know that.”

“i know.”

“but i want you to settle your feelings. it’s not good to keep it all inside of you,” he stops walking, straw away from his mouth. his brows furrowed in concentration, thinking. “i cannot believe i’m about to say this.”

“yeosang…”

his fingers loosen slightly, but he does not let go. “i fear that my love for you is much more than what should be allowed,” his eyes are moist, unable to leave yours. “surrendering myself to you is a choice i have made, but it is quite mad, is it not? committing my heart to you without knowing what you feel about me. i know you like me, i know that. you wouldn’t let me be around you otherwise. i have now trusted you with my secret, with all of these things, and not once have i felt fearful of you telling someone. the only fear i've felt is losing you.” he shakes his head slowly. “you are a human. i have fallen for a human. a human who is heartbroken over a love that she has lost. i know this, and i stand here telling you that i love you. is it not stupid?”

it is not a question for you to answer, rhetorical even, but you decide to respond. “it’s a bit stupid.”

he laughs dryly. “it is.”

“but you have done it anyway. it’s stupid, but maybe even idiotic,” you go on, his expression worsening at your words. “you know what is even more stupid? me, watching you struggle to confess in front of me and not admitting that i feel the same way for you.” his eyes widened. you swallow slowly, blinking slowly. “we shouldn’t love each other this way, yeosang. not after that night, not after me breaking down from hearing seonghwa’s name.”

“we shouldn’t, love.”

“but we do anyway,” you smile. “stupid.”

“completely.”

his gaze settles on yours, before flicking down to your lips. your breath hitches at the glance, until he looks away. “i must warm up the car before you enter, i can be back quickly,” just as he is about to step away from you, you grab his arm. he does not move, even as you move closer.

“can we…”

his body trembles at your hand against the skin of his neck. “y/n…”

“it will be quick.”

his resolve is breaking the longer he looks down at you. his hand reaches up, pulling your face closer to his. "i would love to, y/n. but your heart still belongs to him, even if it’s small," he whispers, a breath away from your lips. he feels how your breath hitches, how your hold on him loosens. he would have pulled away but he knows you need this. knows you need to hear what he has to say. "i know you're still in love with him, y/n. pushing it deeper and deeper will only make it worse when you see him again. don't pretend in front of me, please."

you move your face away, eyes moving to his. you expected hurt, anger, sorrow. regret, even. but nothing like that meets your gaze. empathy. brows furrowed, lips parted. his thumb brushes against your cheek, wiping away a tear that falls.

oh, you're crying.

you touch your cheek, swallowing slowly. "i thought it would go away."

"if only that were so easy," his face relaxes. "you have to go see him again."

"i can't do that."

"he's your best friend."

"was," you correct once more. "he was my best friend. then i pushed him away because i was afraid. i let my phone ring until i blocked his number because he wouldn't stop calling. i let him move on, yeosang. i let him go."

he presses his forehead against yours. you welcome the cool temperature of his skin, shivering slightly. "that's not letting him go. that's removing him from your life with force. he never wanted to leave your side."

"you don't know anything."

"i've seen seonghwa, pretty."

you still. “what?”

"i saw him not too long after meeting you. he was broken," he admits. you've known him long enough to tell when he's choosing his words carefully. for your benefit. "he was with a friend crying at the bar. weeping. his body shook. i didn't know who he was at the time, but it looked as if he was struck by grief. i planned on walking over to confront him, perhaps take away some of his burden, but then i heard your name slip from his lips. i've lived long enough not to believe in coincidences. he was sobbing your name. a man sobbing another's name with such raw emotion could not be angry with you. he was mourning the relationship the two of you had. i know i may be overstepping, but please see him. just one time, speak to him. i need you to."

no.

san saying his name in front of you tonight was enough to stun you. seeing seonghwa again… you cannot.

you won’t.

“no.”

his hand leaves your face. he presses a light kiss to your temple, your eyelids fluttering at the contact. in typical yeosang fashion, he says, “okay, pretty.” he makes sure you’re looking at him when he smiles, squeezing your hand as he pulls you along with him. his humming fills the silence as you walk, as if nothing happened.

you cannot help yourself.

“yeosang, you’re not upset? about any of this?”

"why would i be?” his brow raises.

you’re not sure how to answer that.

he continues, “i am yours, y/n. that is why i am so persistent on you seeing him. i don't want you to live in regret being with me when the man you also love is not too far away."

"i don't want to leave you." and it's true. you've spent the last few months with him, by his side. having him ripped away would only make your mental condition worsen. yes, you shouldn't depend on another's presence for comfort so deeply and you're learning slowly not to, but leaving him now will only make it worse. you love him without ever uttering the words. you love him more than you can describe. "i can't leave you."

"listen to my words carefully, love," he stops moving, looking up at you. "i am not leaving you. i will never dream of it. i am in love with you, y/n. i've never said it before tonight i know, but i am. and i do not plan on ever leaving your side unless you want me to, understand? so i don't mind, if something happens between you and seonghwa, i don't mind it."

“nothing is going to happen.”

he nods slowly, “alright. shall we go?” he gestures to the guards in front of you, the sounds of stores dropping their gates and locking their doors. “we’ll discuss this more at a later time. i can make you something when we get back.”

-

that night is the last time he has ever pushed you, though slightly, into confessing your feelings to seonghwa, and your apology. hongjoong is elated when you tell him of your new relationship status, though you could see the slight worry dwelling as well. he knows as well as yeosang how badly your heart is hurt. you trust yeosang not to hurt you - he has never done anything remotely close to battering it. but that’s not what they’re both worried about.

his words linger. the two of you flourish in your relationship, though he has never once let his lips touch yours. you’re not sure if it’s his gentle nature or if he does not want to touch you that way until you’ve settled your feelings, but it does sting a bit. each time you initiate he turns his cheek for your touch to be placed there.

the intimacy avoidance just continues to grow.

after one of his after-feeding showers, you sit at his counter. head resting on your folded hands, watching the world just outside this apartment. too consumed in your own thoughts. you don’t bother leaning into his touch when his lips kiss the back of your neck. thumb rubbing the back of your arm. you don’t flinch at all, that in itself is concerning enough for yeosang to stop at the fridge.

“y/n? are you alright?”

“fine.”

he closes the fridge, moving around the counter to stand in front of you. he wears a loose graphic tee you’ve gifted him, his sweatpants that you wore that night covering his legs. his head tilts. you’ve always found that habit of his endearing, but right now you’re too annoyed and frustrated to have it affect you. his frown deepens when you don’t meet his eyes.

“pretty girl.”

those words almost get you. you close your eyes now, moving your head to rest on your hands instead, face hidden. “fine, yeo.”

the guilt of this situation begins to riddle within you. there is no obligation for him to do anything with you and you’d never force the situation, but your own desires are sitting at the surface. yeosang walks around the table, his hand brushing over your skin, draping himself over your hunched over body, it’s comforting, his sweet scent wrapping around you. you feel the brush of his nose against the back of your ear, breath tickling your skin. you tense.

yeosang stops, though he does not let you go. “you’re upset with me?”

“i’m not.”

“i can’t read your mind, but i can tell when something’s up, y/n. did i do something?”

“yeosang,” you sigh, body trembling when you feel the brush of his lips on your earlobe. unable to take the closeness without your mind wandering elsewhere, your chair slides harshly against the tiles. you stand up and move away from him, fists tucked to your sides. his brow furrows as he looks at you, head tilting. “i can’t concentrate when you’re that close.”

“okay, that's fine. but we can’t move forward if you don’t tell me what’s upsetting you,” he takes the spot you were once in, sitting on the edge of the stool. his legs are apart, fabric tight against his thighs. leaving nothing to the imagination.

oh how your suffering continues.

“are we moving too fast?” he asks after a moment. “should we take a moment to think this through?”

“no!” your voice is louder than you’d like, the teasing of a grin on his lips. “no, we don’t need to go slower than we already are.” you stop, sighing. “i don’t know how to say it.”

“you want me,” he says simply, taking a sip of your water. “since you said ‘slower than we already are’, you want us to take a larger step in our relationship. am i correct?”

flustered at his quickness, you nod. he hums, thumb rubbing the condensation of the small glass cup. your gaze follows his movements, room temperature increasing by the second. you only look away when yeosang speaks up again.

“it’s not like i don’t want you, pretty,” he places the glass on the countertop, looking at you. “do you know how difficult it is for me to not touch you? i am a predator, my smell is heightened. everytime i’m in a room with you all i smell is you, all i want is you,” he says simply, laughing at the expression forming on your face. “it’s not all i think about, but it’s very prominent in my mind.”

“then what’s wrong?”

his smile wavers, “you know what’s wrong, pretty girl. i said it when we confessed to each other. i need you to speak to him again.”

“yeosang, i told you how i felt.”

“i know, and i accepted your choice. but i just,” a long exhale escapes his lips. “i want you so badly, so desperately, but i cannot move forward until you settle your own feelings with seonghwa. i don’t want you to think i’m forcing you to do anything because that’s not my intention at all. i’m sorry if the thought crossed your mind about me not wanting you sexually because i truly do. but you’re not fully here with me, y/n. and i fear you never will be unless you see him again. i don't want you to live with the regret of what could have been.”

you hate it. you hate that you want to accuse him of manipulating you into a conversation with seonghwa, though he is not forcing it upon you. you thought you could hide your feelings, thought that with time, you would no longer think of him because you have the man in front of you. but you have. you haven’t stopped thinking of him since you ran into san. it is like he’s embedded himself in your brain. you thought you’d be okay enough to move forward with yeosang, love him with everything you have, but you can’t. he’s right. it wouldn’t be fair to him if you let this feeling continue.

yeosang lets his words settle within you.

“okay.”

“okay?” his brow raises.

“i think i’m ready to talk to him.”

he looks at your eyes, nodding slowly. “it will be good for you.”

the question still lingers, though; what’ll be the outcome? what if seonghwa breaks you - what if he repairs you? what if at that moment, you forget about yeosang, forget about all of this? you can’t do that to him. you love him more than you can describe, but feelings can change in a moment.

“y/n.”

you’re not sure when he stood up, coming closer to you. he holds your head in his hands, eyes flicking between yours. “i love you too dearly for me to be upset if you left me for him.”

“how did you…”

oh. you definitely said that all out loud.

“i don’t want anything to happen,” you whisper. “something could happen.”

“it may. but i myself, i am not…” he thinks for a moment. “i wouldn’t mind opening this relationship for you, if your feelings match one another's.”

now this is something the both of you have never discussed. he picks up on the alarm in your expression, continuing. “i never really desired anyone like this before. i’ve fucked, yes, but relationships didn’t really happen for me. that is something i’ve glossed over a bit in the past,” he looks away. “my relationships consisted of me only having sex with another, but not really a partnership. nothing that i would consider to be a full blown relationship. but with you, i wouldn’t mind sharing you. you are too wonderful for me to ever deny your desires for humans. there are some things that i’ll never be able to give you,” his hand brushes against your cheek. “like warmth. and someone to grow old with, a child. i will remain this age and you won't.”

that thought lingered in your mind as you've spent time with him. being a vampire isn't something you want for yourself, even if you love yeosang dearly. you're not even sure how that process works because you didn't desire it so you never asked. but opening your relationship? you never thought about being polyamorous.

“this is confusing,” you murmur. he presses a kiss to your forehead. “i don't know yeosang, this is a lot to take in.”

“it is,” he agrees. “i'm here for you if there are any questions.”

the conversation turns away from seonghwa a bit as you have an open conversation with one another. yeosang explains how he does not really have a label for himself, living his immortal life with eyes open. you yourself have attraction to all sorts of people, fitting for how yeosang views himself. it is odd that though you two haven't spoken about it, you're so similar. he also explains that he does not see himself seeing anyone but you in your lifetime, and insists that he tell you if something changed. you aren't quite sure how you'll handle the seonghwa feelings, if he even considered your own after all this time. yeosang only assures you that whatever you decide he will accept, whether it be a polyamorous relationship, monogamous with either him or yeosang, or nothing at all. his acceptance is astonishing, but he only explains that his long life has told him not to worry about small things like this.

if only you could say the same.

yeosang does not make any sort of move towards you, holding you close as you sleep in his bed. the long day brings exhaustion to settle on your shoulders. soon enough, in the cool embrace of yeosang, you fall asleep.

—

the cold chill seeps into your wool coat. yeosang insisted that you wear your thickened sweater while you were out and about, but you ignored his worried gaze and told him you'd be back soon enough. but now that you stand outside the café, hands tucked into your pockets as you wait for it to open, you regret ever not listening to his advice. you can imagine him now, soft lips protruding from their usual small smile, nose flared and brows tight with concern. the mental image only makes your own lips lift.

“he was right about the temperature,” hongjoong's eyes peer between the thickened cotton scarf wrapped around his neck and forehead. he's covered completely from head to toe in clothing his partner made for him, rosy nose the only sliver of skin shown. it's endearing to see him loved this dearly, knowing that he's sought out someone for much longer than you have. he digs into his pocket, handing you his spare mittens and a heat packet. you thank him, slipping your hands into the soft material.

“think it's an immortal thing to predict the temperature?” he asks, whining when you lightly hit his calf with his boot. “what!”

“i told you not to speak of it in public,” you discussed it with yeosang about telling your best friend. he was a bit hesitant at first, but agreed. hongjoong believed it much easier than you had, nodding in content and murmuring something about yeosang being a bit too beautiful and kind for a human. it was ridiculous reasoning at the time, but you were glad he believed you. hiding it from him would have weighted on your mind.

“I barely said anything,” he shoots you a glare. “but seriously, you should have grabbed a scarf.”

“i didn't think they'd be closed at 8am on a saturday!”

“you should have checked,” hongjoong whines, stepping closer to you. he pulls you into his side, arm wrapped around your shoulder. it’s not enough to subside the freezing temperatures, but you find it endearing nonetheless. “i used to hate it when customers waited outside just before opening. started off my day wrong.”

“we can walk around or something,” you murmur, and he laughs, nudging you slightly.

“it’ll be fine, we’re not staying long anyway.” he looks around, his laugh disappearing swiftly. you look over your shoulder to see what's caught his attention, but he turns your body away, forcing you to look the opposite direction.

“joong, what the hell?”

“it's seonghwa.”

your throat tightens up. seonghwa? he's here? fear begins to climb in you. you haven't readied yourself to approach him. it was going to happen soon, but not now. not early morning, body shivering from the brisk air. not when you're still afraid to speak to him. hongjoong moves you further away from the store. you would thank him if you could.

“hongjoong?”

seonghwa's sweet voice carries through the air. hongjoong hesitates, looking at you. he does not say a word, but his eyes tell it all. should i ignore him? should i let you go and i speak to him alone? they're still friends, that you know. you encouraged hongjoong to stay friends with him, your hurt was never his. but now, here you stand. you can either face it, deal with it, or run away again. no one would scold you for it, protecting your feelings. but how much longer can you run?

you shake your head at his questioning eyes. he settles on you for another moment, before turning around. you follow his lead.

seonghwa is as beautiful as he always is. beanie pulled over his head and covering his ears, black hair barely peeking from beneath. glasses likely tucked away in his bag. he matches the gloomy morning, long navy coat, black boots. the slight flush of his cheeks due to the low temperature. he smiles, and your heart races. his gaze moves from hongjoong’s, shifting to you.

his eyes widen, flicking over your face. eyes, nose, lips, hat, body, eyes again. his lips part, a sigh leaving them. his brows furrow, hand clenching, then relaxing. you've seen this happen before. that day on the roof, the last time you saw him. the look in his eyes is different though. it is not filled with hurt. confusion, worry.

you’re not sure what emotion has settled in his gaze.

“birdie…?” his voice cracks, looking at hongjoong briefly. how that nickname almost breaks you completely.

“hwa,” your lips tremble, but you force them to smile anyway. “hi.”

“hey,” he drags the word, blinking quickly. “hi.”

“the café is open, i'll grab a few coffees,” hongjoong looks around seonghwa. “be right back, alright?” be looks between the both of you, before leaving. the air only thickens as you two stand here alone. your rub your fingers on the hot pack in your gloves, gaze on the ground.

“i didn't think i'd ever see you again,” he admits. “it's been a long time.”

“it really has,” you agree. awkward. you were never this awkward with him. the two of you walk around the issue, the uneasiness only growing. “i–”

“i'm–”

you speak simultaneously. his cheeks darken. “you can go first.”

“no, you. i’ve said plenty since we last spoke, didn't i?”

a smile appears, though it doesn't reach his eyes. another cloud leaves his lips as he sighs, hand tugging on the loose strap of his bag. “did i fuck up back then? did i hurt you so badly that you didn't want to deal with me anymore, birdie? is that why you wanted to leave me alone?”

how easily he lets the nickname roll off his tongue. as if it hasn’t been over half a year since you’ve seen each other. as if you didn’t remove him from your life. but no. you didn’t want to leave him. you never did.

you shake your head, “never. i couldn't handle it all, i couldn't handle the way you were looking at me. it was a lot.”

“how did i look at you?”

“like you pitied me. like you were about to tell me how you felt, and i,” you weren't ready to hear his rejection. “i was scared. i didn't think that my feelings for you would be told that way. i wasn't ready for it.”

“so you then decided that it was best that you never deal with it at all?” he frowns, brows furrowing. “you didn't let us talk it out, and you ran from me. you didn't let me say anything else.”

“i messed up. i was too insecure to hear what you had to say.”

“want to go to the park for a bit?” he gestures behind the two of you. you take out your phone, sending hongjoong a quick message that you’ll be gone for a while. he sends a thumbs up back. likely aware that this was going to happen anyway.

you two walk next to each other, your hands tucked in your pockets, rubbing the heat pack. seonghwa glances at you, worry about his features. he does not say it, probably due to the situation, but you can tell it’s at the tip of his tongue.

“you look cold.”

oh, so he does say it.

“i thought we’d be out here for a few minutes,” you admit. seonghwa’s lips lift slightly.

“you are always underprepared.”

“i really am,” you shake your head. you should have grabbed that coat like yeosang asked. the two of you walk a bit further, finally arriving at the park. it’s a place the two of you have spent plenty of time at on breaks or excursions, from children to adults. seonghwa wipes off the seat of a swing, gesturing for you to sit. you do, thanking him as he takes the spot next to you. the sun is peeking above the clouds now, temperature rising slowly.

"i didn't know how i felt until you were gone, birdie," his hands are wrapped around the chains of the swing, eyes glued to the snow beneath your feet. seonghwa always radiated confidence, sureness. it was rare that you've ever seen him so vulnerable. so afraid. it makes your heart ache knowing that though it was not entirely your fault, you cause some of his anxiousness. "i was too forward when we spoke about it. overwhelmed, i think. i was so heartbroken over san that i didn't take your feelings into consideration. i let my thoughts get to me. i made you close up, i made you run. and i can tell you're about to interrupt me but just let me say this okay birdie? give me this one thing."

you nod, holding back your words.

"i fucked up when i confronted you. you were right when i didn't want you to be. i let myself get lost in the attention of the guy that i liked. but i think, no, i know that losing you made me see what i've really lost. i lost my best friend, and the one person in this world that has been by me my whole life. i was blind, i think. wait, is that right to say?" He curses himself, taking another breath. "for fucks sake, i thought id practiced this enough to say it right but it just doesn't make sense."

he peeks through his covered face, eyes softening when they meet yours. "i'm in love with you, birdie."

you shake your head, blinking quickly. "you're–"

"i'm not letting you do that," he interrupts with swiftness. "i'm not letting you say that my feelings aren't real when i know they are. it's been months of me thinking about it. this isn't some sudden epiphany. you're not a rebound to me. i wouldn't do that to you, i care too much to even consider that. not that you have to accept my feelings," he adds in. "you can tell me to fuck off and i’ll do it. a little teary-eyed, but i’d still do it."

“seonghwa.”

“i just,” he swallows, “if you don’t want anything like that with me, it’s okay. i just can’t lose you again. it’ll take time, but i’ll move on if you don’t want me that way. we can still be best friends. or at least something. i just… i can’t lose you again.”

yeosang's declaration repeats in your head over and over as you decide how to respond. your heart and head are fighting one another. there's no doubt in your love for yeosang, not even slightly. and he was right – you still love seonghwa no matter how many times you try to push the feelings away. him confessing this to you now, how does that make you feel? and how will he react once you tell him about your partner now? not taking the leap now when you're so deep into it all will only lead to regret later. and you've done enough of that the past few months to last a lifetime.

"i’m still in love with you, seonghwa," you whisper. "i thought i would get over it but i haven't. it scared me how attached i am to you, especially after a while. maybe the years have caught up to me, i’m not sure. but i still love you."

he opens his mouth to speak but you hold out your hand, stopping him. "i can't continue this conversation though, without telling you."

his brows furrow. "tell me what?"

"during our time apart i met someone, hwa," you look at him, his face crumbling immediately at the information. "i met him and i fell in love with him. and i know it hasn't been that long but it's serious. i can't imagine my life without him now."

he nods slowly, "it was presumptuous of me to think you just stayed stagnant this whole time. im sorry–"

"wait, seonghwa. yeosang and i, well, he told me to come to you. he knows how i feel about you and thought i should see you in person again to figure things out. and he is so considerate of me and my feelings, as well as your own. i don't know how to say this," you swallow, closing your eyes as you say the next words. "he knows i’m in love with you and encouraged me to pursue you while still being in a relationship with him. he doesn't mind me loving you and him at the same time. do you understand what i’m saying, hwa?"

he nods slowly, "...yes."

"and as you just said, i don't want to be presumptuous and think that you would be okay with it because it's a lot for someone to consider. it was a lot for me to even think about because i would never want to hurt either of you. if we were to decide that we would like to continue on in a romantic sense, i’ll still be dating yeosang while we're together. and vice versa. i want you to think about what i said to you and consider it before anything else is said, okay?"

"what i decide?" he repeats.

"yes. and then we will take it from there, whatever you decide seonghwa. but i just want to let you know that i love yeosang too much to leave him, if your thoughts start moving in that direction. i'll never break his heart."

“i understand,” he says simply. he digs into his pocket, glancing down at his phone. “your phone number? it’s still the same?”

you nod, and he mimics the movement. he stands up from the swing, tucking his hands back into his pockets. “okay. i, just give me a few days, y/n? just some time to figure this all out.”

“that’s fine,” you smile, and he smiles back. you stand up from the swing and without another word he pulls you into him, hands wrapping around your torso. his body is trembling as you hold him back, his face tucked into the curve of your shoulder. as quick as he holds you he lets go, giving you one last look before leaving the park.

-

seonghwa doesn’t call for over two weeks.

it worries you - he did tell you that he’d contact you soon. it hurt that there isn’t as much of a greeting sent to you, but it makes sense. you confessed to him that you were in love with someone else and said that your partner was okay with it. that could confuse anyone. so despite the circumstances you hold out hope. yeosang comforted you once you told him what happened - made you your favorite soup and desserts. it was a lot when you arrived at his apartment. not on the brink of a breakdown like before, but it took a lot out of you to suddenly have him in front of you. to confront those feelings head on without preparation.

you're resting your head on yeosang's thigh when he messages you. it's pretty simple, just a few words.

hwa: can we meet up? with your partner too.

you look up at yeosang and he's already looking down at you. his focus turns to your phone when you show it to him, brow lifting. “both of us? think he's considering it?”

“maybe,” you look at the message, hovering over the text box. “he could just be letting us know that he doesn't want anything like that.”

“he could do that without me,” yeosang points out. “there wouldn't be any reason for me to come.”

“right,” you sigh. “why am i scared to message him back? are you okay with this, yeosang? seriously okay with all of this?”

“my love,” his hand resting on the side of your face, tilting it ever so slightly. enough for your eyes to settle on his. his thumb slowly strokes your skin. “in what ways could i convince you that i am all for you? that there is next to nothing that would make me change my mind about this? you are my happiness. i have never been more okay.”

you lean into his touch, “you always know what to say.” you open the conversation, texting back.

you: i'm available and he is as well. lmk ♡

hwa: friday? joong told me you didn't work that day and either do i. if yeosang is available too.

you look up at him, and he nods.

you: yep yep, i'll see you. at the old café, right?

hwa: the only place birdie ♡

“done?” yeosang asks, finger still stroking your cheek. you nod, and he hums again, moving off the couch. he moves your head softly to the cushions where he just sat, walking over to the fridge. you never open it, watching as he grabs a blood bag.

yeosang is careful as he opens it. grabbing scissors specifically for this task, sliding it against the plastic. his hands move slow as he pours it into the small container. you never bother him as he does this, pupils dilated, locked in his own world. he never told you to not speak to him, but it felt like you couldn't interrupt the routine of his. he is already on edge whenever he does so.

you flick through the channels, until a loud splat pulls you from your surfing. you stand without thinking twice, running over to the kitchen. red covers the floor tiles, splattered against the fridge and covering the legs of the table. the harsh smell of blood fills your noise as you step back, running to the closet to grab his mop. yeosang grabs a paper towel when you come back with the device. just as you're about to help wipe it up he grabs the pole of it, stopping you in your spot.

“it's blood,” he whispers, eyes closed. “my pretty girl, would you mind going back into the living room?” his words are strained as he says it.

“yeosang-”

“now,” his eyes open, shifting to look at you. you’ve never seen his gaze look so odd. the wood cracks beneath his hold, his nose flared. you waste no time, grabbing your bag off the chair and running towards the exit. yeosang does not stop you, though you are sure he hears your frantic panting as you slip on your shoes, grabbing your coat before running out the apartment. leaving him alone to deal with the mess.

—

it's monday.

three days since you left yeosang alone.

you were petrified.

seeing yeosang that way, almost animalistic as he held himself from doing anything more – any reasonable person would be afraid, right? anyone would run from the situation entirely, not let it escalate further. this is not like a movie, you won't survive because of his adoration for you. you did not see his eyes because he hid them from you. but it wasn't a wild guess. he wasn't himself at that moment.

or, he was. it's just not something you've experienced yourself.

none of this is okay.

as you stare at your phone, his name appearing across the screen, a small heart next to his initials, your own aches. it isn't his fault, what happened. he did what he needed to do. you trusted him enough to control himself. to hold himself back from his own thoughts as the blood filled his nose. but right then, you weren't too sure. you were scared of yeosang.

admitting it only makes you feel worse.

you open his messages, several sent over the past few days.

i’m sorry.

i shouldn't feed when you're around, i made a mistake.

please answer my calls, dearest. please let me explain it to you.

i am afraid that you're afraid of me now.

i love you.

it hurts, reading them over and over. you haven't mustered the courage to listen to the voice-mails. you know yourself. you'd take off running to his apartment, not caring about your own feelings, soothing his own. it'll only lead to something like this happening again. and you're not sure you'll be able to accept the second time. or live, frankly.

“fuck you,” you murmur at yourself, holding your forehead in your hand. “call him, y/n. call him and let him speak to you.”

despite the words said aloud, despite the way your thumb hovers over the dial button, you close it completely. you grab your bag and bus card, locking the doors of your apartment.

you haven't told hongjoong what happened. he'd make sense, he'd tell you that if you're afraid now at something like blood spilling, it'd only get worse. you'll find yourself in a situation you wouldn't want. and he'd be right, partially. you will find yourself again, around him when an incident occurs. and you'll have to decide again, if you trust him enough to stay with him.

you step onto the bus, sending the driver a small smile as you scan your pass, sitting down.

yeosang explained to you simply at the time, to stay away from him when things like this happen. at that moment you weren't thinking, your over helpful nature taking over. it was your fuck up approaching him like that. but there will be times it will happen and he wouldn't be able to tell you to go away.

what then?

—

the door swings open before you get the chance to knock.

yeosang stands there. his clothing is barely on his figure, loosely thrown against his body haphazardly, barely leaving anything to throw imagination. blonde locks every which way, likely due to him running his fingers through it again and again. if it were possible for him to have eyebags you would have seen them, usually brown eyes slightly lighter in color. his eyes flick over you, his hand pulling the door open farther.

“my friend is over,” yeosang's voice is hoarse, blinking slowly. “i smelled you when you entered the building, but he didn't leave quickly enough. he'll be out of here soon.”

you hesitant to enter, already filled with anxiety from this encounter. yeosang's face breaks at the fear in your expression. there is nothing you can do to hide it – open book as always.

“his name is wooyoung, he's a vampire. he's a bit younger than i,” yeosang glances behind him. “but i trust him. he is one of few that i do.”

you trust yeosang. you do, aside from the fear. you nod simply, taking off your shoes and entering.

you spot the vampire packing up his things. he does not turn around as he does so, shoving items into his duffle bag. his appearance closely resembles yeosang's in stature, though he is a bit leaner, a black head of hair. he zips up the bag, throwing the strap on his shoulder as he turns. his beauty is not shocking from what you've experienced with yeosang. moles decorate his skin, slightly tan. his head tilts, eyes traveling over you.

it is not in appreciation.

“you are the human that frazzled yeosang,” his smile is bright and wide, though the warm greeting does not reach his eyes. “interesting that you are quite unremarkable.”

“another word of offense and i'll kill you myself,” yeosang murmurs, eyeing him from his spot near you. “leave, now.”

wooyoung rolls his eyes. “fine. but remember my words, hyung. i'll be around town for a while if you need me. goodbye, human girl. make sure to keep your window locked,” he steps past you, door slamming once he exits his apartment.

the air is solemn between the two of you. you don't blame his friend for insulting you, in fact, you'd probably do the same if places switched. but still, it did sting. quite painfully. you sit where his bag just was, looking down at your hands. it has never been awkward with him. you were able to solve simple arguments with ease this whole time. communication has never been your strong suit, but his ease of speaking helped you gain the confidence to speak up for yourself. though now, it seems as if all the progress has faltered.

“i should have warned you how i am when my mind shifts,” yeosang says softly. you watch as he sits at the kitchen island. he hasn’t looked away from you despite your hesitance to look at him in the eyes. “it was my fault that you ran away.”

“i should have left you alone. i slipped up.”

“you don’t have to blame yourself for this, y/n,” he shakes his head. “i haven’t been around humans this closely. i forget that you aren’t used to how i am when i’m hungry. i could have hurt you if you took my words for granted. i am thankful you listened when you did,” he admits, looking away. “i can control myself well, but i didn’t expect that scent to hit me so strongly. i messed up, you didn’t. you did the right thing.”

“i ignored you for days because i was scared. of you, of what you are,” you hate saying these words to him. you hate that you have to explain how you feel about it. but there’s no other way to continue if you don’t tell him. “it took me some time to let those feelings settle before i had the courage to even appear in front of you. your friend, wooyoung,” his eyes twitch at the name, but you continue. “i can tell he doesn’t like me. it makes sense, since i’ve ignored you for so long now. i’m sorry.”

“you don’t need to apologize, y/n.”

“but i want to. i want to because i can’t lose you, yeosang. i let myself dwell in my emotions again without telling you. i ran away from the problem instead of confronting it,” it is not something you’ve moved on from. “i did it again.”

“i would have went over to your home eventually,” he admits, a sly smile on his lips. “warning you beforehand, of course. but i was never going to let you slip away without an explanation. i know you care too much, and i know i care too much. neither of us would walk away from this without at least a few minutes of conversation exchanged. but,” he rubs the back of his neck. “are you still afraid of me? honesty, please.”

“i don’t know. right now, i’m okay with you being in the same room with me.”

“you haven’t looked at me since you’ve walked in, pretty girl.”

you look up from your hands. his brown eyes warm when they meet yours. you’re not afraid of this yeosang, of the sweet man in front of you. but you are somewhat scared of when he shifts into his feeding mindset. he stands, and you watch as he crouches in front of where you sit. yeosang brushes his fingers across your cheek, hands shaking, eyes flicking between yours rapidly. somewhere in your body is telling you that you should run away. But the look yeosang is giving you stops you from saying anything. he hesitates, touching the corner of your eyelid. Your eyes are moist, and you shiver under his grasp.

"how does it feel?" he asks softly.

"like I should push you away, like, like you're going to hurt me." you admit under your breath, eyes down. he leans, meeting your avoidance.

"i won't hurt you, pretty girl. i won't do anything to hurt you, please know that. do you trust me?"

you nod. he leans forward, eyes moving from yours to your lips. you clutch the chair underneath you, closing your eyes.

*are you scared of me?*

You're ripped from your thoughts, and you open your eyes. yeosang is centimeters away from your lips, his breath fanning your lips. you move one of your hands off from the chair, touching his chest. your fingers stretch out, feeling the smooth skin underneath them. you twist your fingers, trailing the curves of his muscle. your curiosity getting the best of you.

“y/n,” he breathes, chest rising and falling quickly. your mind is telling you to run, but you don't. not now. not after you're this close. you touch his adam's apple, and he gulps. he opens his eyes, their red gaze trained on yours. you stop, shocked at the change.

“i can't, i can't handle being this close to you without…” His words trail off, hands now on the back of your neck, playing with the small hairs. his hand seemed stuck in its place, not daring to move. “if you don't stop, i won't be able to stop myself from fucking you into the chair.”

you drop your hand from him, and he groans at the loss of contact, not moving. He lifts his free hand, touching your thigh. his hand travels up slowly, and you quiver, the warning signs gone within a moment. he stops at the zipper of your jeans. You close your thighs around his grasp, and his lips curve devilishly.

“do you want me to ?” he leans close, his lips brushing against the soft skin by your neck. he trails his tongue along the curve of your neck, biting lightly. “you taste so good.”

you lean into him, his lips moving up your neck, closer to yours. he smiles against your cheek, and you feel the corner of his lips touch yours. your grip on the chair tightens, almost impossibly so. he moves closer, their soft touch brushing against yours.

your eyes lock onto his, searching for any sign of doubt or hesitation. you know when he’s conflicted, the furrowed brows, the concerned gaze. often you could sense the conflict within him, the fear that something beyond his control might destroy the two of you. at that moment, none of it mattered.

“i want you to want me, y/n," his tone is desperate now, “please tell me you want me.”

his yearning hands in the air. your heart swells with a mix of emotions — desire, a bit of fear.

“i want you, yeosang.”

his lips smile against your skin, anticipation as his lips meet yours. his breaths are heavy, lip soft and cold. the chill sends a shiver down your body, but it is anything but discomfort. his tongue sliding against yours, cool temperature only making your body warm. his fingers hold the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss. soon enough. when your fingers reach up, tighten in his hair in response he grunts and deepens the kiss, spurred on by your initiative. the deeper, heavier kisses pull ragged breaths out of you, and he only stops when he senses your loss of breath.

"I need more," he confesses, his lips and breath flowing over the back of your neck. a hand slips from the back of your neck, his tongue pushes into your mouth, moving earnestly as his other hand unclasps your bra. you moan into his lips as it releases. his cool fingers move down your back slowly, tracing the curve of your spine. the shiver causes you to pull away from his kiss. “already sound so pretty,” he whispers. his other hand lets go of your neck, both sliding along the line of your body, soft grip settling at your hips. his lips are greedy against your skin, light licks and pecks left in his wake. your hands are wrapped around him, holding him close. your legs tremble as he presses you forward into the couch, hovering above you. you can feel as he leaves a mark just off your neck, your fingers flexing, nails gripping his skin as you try to keep yourself steady.

he lifts you easily off the couch, lips against your neck as he guides you into his room. though this is your first time inside, he does not give you a chance to look around, moving over to the futon and laying you down. yeosang barely breaks the kisses between you as he leans over you. his soft hands move over your exposed breasts, gasps escaping your lips. you cover your mouth with the back of your hand to repress the moan that rises up when he kisses your sensitive nipple. your body writhes beneath him as he speaks.

"hands on my shoulders," he says, trailing kisses from your lips to your ear. "keep them there please, pretty girl."

you nod, unable to hold his stare as his gaze stays on you, his hand slipping under the waistband of your sweatpants. your breaths are heavier as his fingers slip between your thighs. he’s hesitant at first, index finger dragging along the lining of your underwear. he watches you carefully as he pulls it to the side, a finger slipping over your clit. your hands tense and you let out a plea of surprise and pleasure, covering your mouth as your eyes go wide. his finger slowly rubs your clit, coaxing warm moans from your lips. his movements are erratic; slower, faster, one finger slipping inside, two.

you're shivering under him, "yeo…"

"let go, pretty," his voice is sweet, “look at me when you do.” your eyes focus on him as best they can. there's a pleased hum that comes from him, your fingers and toes flexing as the pleasure that's been building the last few minutes peaks.

"y/n," yeosang mumbles, his breath tickling your neck. his lips drag across your skin, your chest throbbing in anticipation. You place your hands on his chest, pushing slightly. Despite your heart whining at the loss of contact,

"i want more of you, y/n," he says softly, “and that is so terrifying.”

he sighs, and you stop talking. he pulls your hand, guiding you towards him and letting you fall on top of him. his back is against the bed, his blonde hair scattered across. you hold yourself up with both of your arms, hovering above him. he closes his eyes, his hands gripping your hips softly.

"this desire to please you, it consumes me. i want you to want me the same. But," his fingers slowly dances up your waist, tracing your skin, "you may not ever feel the same as I."

he rolls over, and this time, he cages you beneath him. his pupils dilate, and he looks down at his chest, "if you could only know how hard my heart would beat for you.”.

his shirt drops to the side, and you gasp, seeing the scars that cover his chest. against his skin, the ridges curve and meet each other at odd angles. many are faded over time, but you can see a small glimpse of them. yeosang doesn’t say anything, letting you take in his body. the hurt. you reach out, finger ever so lightly tracing a more prominent one. yeosang sucks in a breath but doesn’t move his eyes from yours. he lets you follow the path. your eyes swell with tears, and he brushes one that falls from your eye.

“please don’t cry,” he says softly, “all of it is from long ago, i’m okay now.” you shake your head, bringing your fingers away from him.

“it looks so painful, yeosang. i’m so sorry.”

yeosang leans down, brushing his lips against yours. he breathes in your gasps, stroking your cheek as your tears fall. your eyes flutter as his tongue slides along your lower lip. his lips move from yours, slowly dragging across your shoulder. despite just moments ago when his fingers were inside of you, you cannot help but let embarrassment sink in as he observes you.

“i cannot believe you’re here in front of me. staring at me, willingly letting me see you,” he’s holding his weight up on his knees to keep it from crushing you. “what have i done to deserve you? who knew that you would allow me to see you in such a vulnerable state?”

“i am just a human, yeosang.”

with that he smiles, hand trailing down the curve of your torso. “divinity would faint underneath your gaze.” he moves closer to you, and you feel his bulge straining against his sweats. if you look close enough, you can see a small wet stain coating the outside of the fabric. his lips continue their slow descent down your body, light pecks each time he lifts up slightly. his hands press firmly into your hips, his nails leaving small indents.

you hesitantly reach out, letting your fingers drag through his hair. he shivers at your touch, eyes darkening as he lets his tongue trail. you clench your thighs at his approach, and he whispers onto your skin. inaudible, you ask him to repeat himself once more.

“tell me if you want me to stop,” he says, finger dipping between your folds once before. It didn’t sound the same as before, but you couldn’t question him at the moment. your breath shakens, mind clouded with only him. he drags his middle finger slowly over your clit, enough to keep you on the edge, but not enough to arouse you further. you sigh in frustration.

you begin to stroke his cock, nails scraping against his skin lightly. he leans his head into the crook of your neck, sucking on your skin as your hand moves up and down his erection. yeosang stops your hand in place. he moves back away from you, kicking his slacks off his legs. you see the scars extend from his chest down his legs, and some disappearing onto his back. he sees the sadness in your eyes, and presses his lips between your brows.

“i’m okay,” he repeats, “i have you, pretty girl. i’m okay.” he wraps his arms around your torso, letting your heartbeat slow. he presses his lips to your forehead once more, before pushing you back down.

you look at him, the moonlight shining on his blonde hair, turning it into a more silver shade. he scared you before, an uneasy feeling each time you stood next to him. now, you couldn’t even remember how it felt.

yeosang looks down at his cock, his erection still prominent against his stomach. he looks back at you.

“you can still say no, and I will stop.”

he waits for your response patiently.

“i won’t say no,” you reply back, and he leans down. his cock presses against your cunt, slipping inside with a low pop. you moan, throwing your head to the side. the low moan that escapes his throat is otherworldly, his girth stretching you to your limits. every stroke to move further in has you gasping, his small whimpers barely heard over the sound of your wetness, his cool cock slipping through.

your hands reach out to touch his shoulders, and he leans closer to you, wrapping his arms around your torso. he holds you tight as his cock settles in you, his breaths shaky. you feel his hands wrap around your thighs and his body, forcing your cunt to pull him in deep. you widen your eyes as you feel his cock pulsate, almost shaking inside of you.

after you adjust to his size, he goes slow; long strokes moving in and out of your cunt at a leisurely pace.

yeosang pauses, “may i move faster?”

“please.”

he grins. he slams his cock into your cunt. you gasp, his strokes quick and deep. your muscles ache as he continues his relentless pace. fingers digging into his back, whimpers of pleasure falling from your lips.

“i love you.” you’re voice is barely above a whisper.

yeosang’s pace is already relentless, but when he hears those words fall from your lips, it’s like a switch flicked inside of him. he rears back, and slams. you squeeze tightly, and he rewards you with another slam, filling your whole completely. his pattern is erratic, moving quickly and dragging his cock along your cunt. it’s thick; you can feel every vein and lump that covers him.

the bed strains under his pace, forced away by the strength of his stroking. his lips press against your skin feverishly, his desperation to climax overwhelming. the quickness of his skin rubbing against yours, crotch smacking against you and grinding relentlessly will definitely have you sore in the morning.

yeosang pressing into you, your cunt pulsating as your nails tear the skin of his back. you yelp. the intense sensation of yeosang’s thrusts make you fall into your climax, your moans echoing around the room. your eyes flutter as he pulls you tight against him, and you feel his cock explode with cum strands hitting your walls.

you two sit there for a moment, until yeosang shifts, his body still hugging you but this time, laying on your side. his cock sits in you, slowly softening. he runs his fingers down your cheek, rubbing your skin softly. the temperature of his body pressing against yours is cool, your skin seeking his. he presses his lips to yours lightly.

"we should clean up before we sleep." you say into his skin, though unmoving.

"i'll take care of it." he says, covering you with a nearby blanket as he gets up.

-

he holds you closer to his body, breaths tickling the hairs on your neck. hours have passed, most filled with your combined sounds of pleasure. enough so that you’ve exhausted yourselves sheets in the washer, new ones beneath your freshly showered bodies. he didn’t leave you alone in there either - not that you wanted him to, of course. his stamina is endless, your flushed body against the wall as he pressed into you. the thought of it makes your body warm, legs wiggling slightly against his cool chest pressed against your back. his lips drag against your shoulder, soft kiss brushed against it.

“again?” he whispers. though you cannot see his face from this angle, you can hear the smile in his voice as he says the word.

your body aches at the thought. “yeosang, you’re insatiable.” you murmur, his arms wrapping around your center, pulling you closer into him.

“mm,” he agrees simply. “now that i’ve had you i’m not sure i can let you go that easily. and we have to christen my apartment.”

“that’s a bit blasphemous,” you snort, and he laughs. “what, i’m sure there’s at least a vampire afterlife of some sort.”

“unfortunately for me, pretty girl, if there is one, i doubt i will be experiencing it anytime soon.”

the conversation lulls after that, soft giggles and laughs filling the silence every few minutes or so. the anxiety of being around him before diminished into nothing. his chin rests on the top of your head, the rumbling of his throat as he hums vibrating against you.

“wooyoung wasn’t serious about what he said,” he says after a few minutes of silence. “he worries for me.”

“he should, he’s your friend.”

yeosang pauses for a moment, before continuing. “we were partners a long time ago.”

oh. a long time could mean so much more to him than to you, but you don’t dare interrupt, intrigued on what else he’s going to say.

“the last time it happened was about a little over a hundred years, give or take a few years. we’re well now, but in the beginning it was rough. we used each other for satisfaction every couple of decades. he came to my apartment today and mentioned our past,” yeosang’s fingers slightly tighten. “i told him i have you now. it didn’t upset him, but it did bewilder him. i’m not one to interact with humans the way that others do. i avoid your species completely, moreso out of fear of the unknown. i trust you, but i don’t trust any other human. i’ve only accepted you telling your friend because i have confidence in your decisions. if it were anyone else i’d vehemently deny it. but i digress - wooyoung will not bother you again. he may linger around my home every so often, but he’d never welcome himself into yours. we would need permission to enter, anyway.”

“do you still like him?” it is an awkward question to ask, but you’re curious. you don’t deny that yeosang has feelings for you, but you wonder if his feelings for wooyoung go beyond simply caring for a friend.

“not as you're thinking. i enjoy him being around as a friend. he brings out another side of me. but not as a partner or lover. i think we’ve grown past that part in our relationship. he seems to agree as well. and i do believe he has a partner of his own now.”

“so i have you to myself,” you grin. he cannot see it from the angle you’re resting, but he chuckles, body vibrating to the sound.

“was there ever any room for uncertainty?” he presses his lips against your hair, “are you reassuring yourself because of wooyoung, or our meeting with seonghwa coming up soon?”

how decipherable are your emotions?

“a bit of both. i want us to be okay before anything else is decided. bringing someone into a situation that isn’t stable would hurt us all. and seonghwa is my best friend,” you whisper, “i can’t hurt him again.”

“will you tell him about me?” he asks.

“i would have to if we’re all going to be in this. i can’t keep any secrets from him. and i’m sure he’ll figure it out almost immediately. he picks up on small things quickly.”

“you didn’t,” he teases.

“i just thought you were a freak,” you murmur, a gasp spilling from his lips. “nothing wrong with that!”

“and yet you stayed,” he points out.

you turn around, his hold loosening as you do so. your body faces him, hand reaching up, tracing the lining of his face. you cannot imagine yourself without him now, your identities too entwined for you to separate without hurting each other in the long run. there is little that would have made you leave him.

“yeosang,” your tone is softer, decorated with your complicated feelings. his name holds so much in your mouth each time you say it, a confession, maybe. there is little to separate the two of you — the space between your bodies unseen at first glance. his hand reaches to cup the shape of your face, thumb resting at the corner of your lips. how easy your heart picks up at the simplest touch.

“you torture me,” his lids are heavy, teeth digging into his lip. “i know you tease but my mind wanders.”

“to?”

“i cannot look at you, be with you, think about you, without love. i never really yearned or envied humans before. your lives cave out such a small amount of time it felt insignificant to desire such an existence. and yet i rest with you here, holding a breath that is neverending, afraid of leaving you. my love for you will cause me to crumble and i will never not be thankful.”