Bigbang & Super Junior are my kings

___

They were sitting on Jiyong-oppa’s bed, with Taeyeon’s back to but not quite touching the headboard, and the entire apartment was silent. Even outside they could hear no sound, like the city of Seoul had been uncharacteristically considerate and decided to quiet down to give them some peace. Maybe it was beyond egotistical of Taeyeon to even imagine the idea of an entire city doing anything for just the two of them, but that was the thought that came to her mind, and she couldn’t help it. Besides, it wasn’t like she’d ever been the humblest person in the world.

“…Hey.”

Jiyong-oppa looked up from his notebook, cradled in his lap as he was doodling what was presumably potential designs for Peaceminusone. Taeyeon was glancing up from her laptop, too, having been jotting down some lyrics. Their eyes met.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“You ever wonder what it’s like to be dead?”

Jiyong-oppa paused, considering her inquiry. An onlooker might have balked from the conversation that was going between them – just a moment before, they’d been working separately for hours on end, not saying a single word and not even glancing at the other despite the fact that they were facing each other on the bed, and close enough for their outstretched legs, resting limply on the mattress, to be intertwined – and now they were finally acknowledging each other’s presence, the first words exchanged between them being about what it would be like to be dead.

But Taeyeon wasn’t sure that either of them even had the capacity to understand how weird this could seem any longer. It was so perfectly ingrained in her – talking to Jiyong-oppa about the thoughts that went through her head – that she’d long since forgotten the feeling of fear that he would judge her. Regardless of if those thoughts were about death, or books, or parenthood, or human selfishness, or relationships, or anything else.

“More than once,” he admitted, even though the word admitted implied some kind of shame or embarrassment, any reservation about telling her the fact, and that couldn’t be further from what was in his voice or demeanor at the moment. He sounded casual – no, he was casual – just as casual as she was, asking him the question. Actually, stated was a much more accurate way to describe the action that saying those three words had been.

Taeyeon arched her eyebrows slightly, a wordless beckon for him to continue. Jiyong-oppa shrugged.

“I don’t know. Mostly I think it’ll be like sleeping, I guess. Nothing. No memories, or feelings. Or consciousness.” His tone was matter-of-fact. That answer hadn’t changed since the last time she had asked him this question. Taeyeon strained to remember when that might have been. Six years ago? Seven? Five? She was losing track.

Just like back then, he had the same thoughts she did on the matter.

“My father said he found that idea scary,” she said absentmindedly, the childhood memory tickling at the back of her skull. She didn’t recall the context of his words, or why her forever-distant father would tell her something so personal. Maybe he hadn’t even been telling her directly – maybe she’d overheard it, or found it written somewhere. That was probably it – no way her father would have opened up to her about something like that.

“Understandable, I guess. Do you?” Jiyong-oppa’s tone was mild. There was curiosity in his eyes, but a mundane kind of curiosity that reminded Taeyeon that this was far from their first time talking about this.

“A little?” She wasn’t sure. She supposed it was a scary idea, and one that had the potential to make her panic – because really, the idea of being conscious of absolutely nothing for the rest of forever was an unnerving one. But quicker than the fear of that was the logical fact that she didn’t have any reason to be afraid, because she wouldn’t even have a mind left to do that with. If death erased all of her, it would erase her ability to feel anything right along with the rest of her, too.

And even barring that, there was the fact that…

“But on the other hand, I think having no consciousness for the rest of eternity would be weirdly comfortable. Maybe even comforting. Don’t you think?” That was true, too. It’d be peaceful, just like sleeping, only there was no chance or need to ever wake from it. Life was pretty exhausting, after all.

“Yeah.” Even though Jiyong-oppa sounded more or less flat, Taeyeon could hear the sincerity in that single word. She wondered why he didn’t bring up the fact that she’d already asked him this before, and that he’d already asked her this in the past, too – that they both already knew what their answers were, and somehow even knew that those answers wouldn’t be changing anytime in the near future.

Well, she didn’t really wonder. She already knew the answer, after all: there was an odd comfort in it, just like the odd comfort of death that she’d mentioned. Even though the topic could be considered macabre, talking about it with each other had a comfortable lull settling over both of them. That was probably so because, in a way, she thought, they were just talking about another of the many similarities shared between them. The fact that they would inevitably die soon – and it really was so soon, in the grand scheme of Earth’s history, the universe’s history – the same as everyone else on the planet. More than that, the fact that they thought similarly even about dying and its unavoidability.

Jiyong-oppa tossed the notebook onto the stand next to the upper part of the bed, the motion somehow lazy despite the quick movements involved. His aim was precise, and the notebook landed with a sharp slapping sound against the hard marble. Taeyeon blinked.

“…Hey, Taeyeon?”

“Yeah?”

“You think living until we have to die is even worth it?”

Taeyeon arched her eyebrow, glancing down at her computer screen to make sure the progress she’d made was saved before she closed the laptop and set it aside on the same stand Jiyong-oppa had put his notebook, albeit with considerable more care than it had received. That was a question they’d never asked each other. Somehow, they both knew it wasn’t a matter that was entirely foreign between them, but it had never been verbalized. She could feel Jiyong-oppa’s gaze on her, steady. Expressionless, but not closed off – on the contrary, it was genuine, in fact, because his sincere feelings about the question really were that bland. She knew that from experience, and she understood what that felt like because it was the same for her. Maybe it wasn’t healthy, but it was what it was.

“Who knows?” She placed her elbows on the thighs of her outstretched legs and settled her chin into her palms, ignoring the pain of the bones digging into flesh. “I doubt there’s even a right answer to that.”

His lips quirked, but he said nothing as she elaborated.

“I mean, it’s tiring to live. You and I know that both of us have more than our fair share of moments where we wonder why we bother.” Where did she – where did they – even start with those? The thought was enough to make her lips curve upward very slightly. Taeyeon liked to remind herself to keep her privileges in mind, no matter how strong the occasional urge to start purposefully dropping plates on the ground and watch them shatter got; she was successful, she was fairly rich, she was cisgender, she was considered attractive, she had dear friends, she and her group had a fanbase that she was unspeakably grateful to. She knew Jiyong-oppa kept that all in mind, too, and neither of them would ever presume to compare their plights to those of the truly, legitimately unfortunate. That didn’t mean that life wasn’t a pain in the ass for both of them, though.

“Yeah. It fucking sucks.” Jiyong-oppa’s statement was bland despite the profanity, like he was talking about the weather. Then again, they both sounded like this a lot, especially when it was just the two of them, especially when it was at night, when the rest of the world was asleep, and all the pretenses and all the need to have the pretenses began slipping away. They would all be back eventually, firm and steady and without a crack – they had to be, after all – if the public saw them like this then the consequence could be their careers at the worst. If that happened, they were really fucked.

“Sad to say that you’re right. But there are nice, beautiful things about life too, you know?” A strand of hair fell over Taeyeon’s eyes as she let her body slump against the headboard fully. Folding his legs and closing the distance between them somewhat so she was within his armlength, Jiyong-oppa reached over and tucked the lock away, secure behind her ear. His fingers brushed against her cheek – they were warm, just like his eyes. Taeyeon stared back at him, neither of them blinking, but the contact wasn’t awkward in any way.

“Such as?” he asked, cocking his head slightly to the side.

Taeyeon didn’t answer immediately, didn’t really feel like either of them felt the need for her to. Driven by impulse more than anything, she opened her arms. Without a beat of hesitation, Jiyong-oppa wriggled forward into her embrace until his head was resting on her chest, tucked under her chin, and his slim upper body settled between her spread legs. Taeyeon inhaled deeply, the weight of his body on hers bringing her its usual steadfast comfort. Adjusting himself a little, Jiyong-oppa wrapped his arms around her waist, blowing contentedly against the flesh of her throat.

“Soojin, for one,” she said. “Yuna. Sunbin. Minhee-eonni. You.”

“How flattering,” Jiyong-oppa mumbled into her neck. “You think I’m nice and beautiful?”

“Only because you think the same about me.” He let out a quiet hum of agreement that vibrated against her. Taeyeon paused for a moment, putting one hand on the back of his head and stroking. His hair was soft, the strands sifting between her fingers. “Books I like. Music I like. My career’s a blessing when it’s not shitty. People are pretty lovable when they don’t suck ass.”

“Wow, this is shocking progress,” he commented, with that slight air of cheekiness that only she seemed to ever be able to detect. “Here I remember fourteen-year-old you ranting to me about how much you hate people.”

“I’m an introvert. I still do. But I love them sometimes, too,” Taeyeon replied. “Besides, don’t pretend like you don’t know exactly what I mean.”

“Yeah… I agree with you.”

Taeyeon snorted. “About you knowing exactly what I mean, or…”

“About your answer. Life is a shithead sometimes and I don’t always feel the urge to waste all the effort it takes, but it’s enjoyable too. Or can be, at least.” He raised his head, and their noses nearly touched. Taeyeon’s eyes flitted to his lips, a fact that she didn’t bother to hide. Especially when she could clearly see his eyes going to the same place on her anatomy.

His breath fluttered against her cheek. Removing her other hand from the small of his back, Taeyeon placed it instead on his face, her thumb settling under his eye. Wordlessly, she pressed their foreheads together, and Jiyong-oppa’s hand came to curl around hers. Even though his hands weren’t particularly large, they were still larger than hers. Taeyeon liked how his fingers fit snugly over hers when they compared hand sizes for fun, knowing all the while what exactly the difference would be.

“You think we’d be together after we die?” he asked softly, like the question itself was a secret.

Taeyeon found that her voice came out hushed, too. “Probably not.” The answer was honest, but laced with reluctance. It might be hypocritical of her to be reluctant to admit something that she thought was true – after all, she had never liked fantasies, had promised herself that she’d do her best never to allow herself to be fooled by them – but she couldn’t help it. Death and the lack of consciousness that it brought might sound comforting, but that most definitely didn’t appeal to her.

Jiyong-oppa made a soft noise of agreement, somewhere between dejected and noncommittal. “You’re right that death might be relaxing in a way, but since we won’t be together, I guess it would be better to put up with life.” As he spoke, he inched upward, and Taeyeon made no move to stop it. She only had time to dip her head once to show her agreement before slowly, languidly, their lips came together, melding into one. Even as her eyes slid closed, Taeyeon could feel the gentle brush of his fingers against the skin of her throat and pulse point.

His kisses, the touch of his hands – well, just him – was different. She’d been in romantic relationships with other people before, but she’d never felt so secure with anyone else. Jiyong-oppa had an uncanny way of making her feel stable, grounded; it had always been that way since they were young and bumbling and green. Taeyeon wasn’t sure she was recognizable from the little child she’d been back then, but she knew she did share a similarity with her: that Jiyong-oppa was her constant, unspoken as that fact went, just like she was his.

Even now, when they were older and talking about dying. Even now, when neither of them could really place their relationship. They weren’t even officially together, Jiyong-oppa wasn’t her boyfriend and Taeyeon wasn’t his girlfriend, but they definitely weren’t just friends, either. Friends didn’t moan softly as their lips slotted against each other’s, soft and reassuring and so, so warm, like Jiyong-oppa moaned just now, breaking away just for a second to suck in air before diving in again. Friends didn’t cling to each other’s bodies with desperation and fervor, like Taeyeon’s hands groping at Jiyong-oppa’s face and nape. Friends didn’t spend nights curled up together like Taeyeon and Jiyong-oppa had spent the previous week and would undoubtedly spend tonight, sometimes with his face buried in her neck and their fingers intertwined together and sometimes with his arms around her waist and his body pressed flush against her back, strong and safe.

They separated just slightly, shoulders heaving, noses brushing. Taeyeon’s temperature felt distinctly higher than it had been before their kiss.

“I won’t die yet,” Jiyong-oppa said, his voice soft, throaty. “The world’s worth it for me, if you’re in it.”

Taeyeon closed her eyes and leaned into him, removing her hands from his face in favor of wrapping her arms around him and squeezing. Even though he didn’t say it, she heard the plea in his words, in his tone. She had to admit, the thought of leaving him alone – it did scare her. It terrified her, in fact.

Jiyong-oppa returned the embrace just as fiercely, his breathing steady against the shell of her ear. The only thing just as terrifying as the thought of leaving him alone, Taeyeon realized, was the thought that he might do so to her.

You nudged Heechul’s hand away under the table with your thigh, smiling pleasantly all the while as you pretended to listen to the account Siwon was telling. Glancing around discreetly to make sure no one would notice, you sent a sharp glare in Heechul’s direction. His only response was eyes flicking toward you for a brief second before he looked away innocently. Mentally reminding yourself to pay him back later, you pressed your legs together, ignoring the urge to grimace at the wetness between them, courtesy of Heechul’s sneaky hands. You’d known him for long enough to not be too shocked when he started touching you under the table – cliché as that was – but part of your brain still couldn’t believe anyone would dare. But then again, it was Kim Heechul.

You were one of Super Junior’s stylists and had been with them since their debut – which was impressive, considering that young back then, the same age as Leeteuk and Heechul (a few months back, that was). Still, Lee Sooman had trusted that you’d be able to deal with the thirteen men. You were very close with all of them, but Heechul… he was a little special to you.

Because, the thing was, you were a bit famous around SM for being able to control the self-proclaimed Universe Superstar. The other stylists, even Super Junior and other artists, looked at you with wonder in their eyes when you put your leash, figuratively speaking, around Heechul’s neck. You knew just how to get him to listen, and had saved other employees from many a headache because of it.

Maybe that was why you often found yourself looking after Heechul, a little bit more than you looked after the other members. You could handle his cheeky, sometimes boisterous personality. You weren’t sensitive and you were just as quick to fire back sarcastic comments as Heechul was, so it was never guaranteed who’d suffer a verbal K.O. during your bantering – you or Heechul.

You’d never considered Super Junior’s second oldest member as anything more than a close friend, though. He wasn’t your type; too loud and too prone to goofing around. That didn’t mean you didn’t love him – you just didn’t think of him that way. You were sure of it, too; the idea of you having feelings for Heechul, in fact, wasn’t even a thought that ever crossed your mind, because you were too confident that that would never be the case.

But apparently, one kiss was all it took for your mind to change. It hadn’t even taken until after the kiss, considering the fact that when Heechul, three months ago, had wrapped one hand around the nape of your neck and pressed his lips to yours, you’d kissed back. Eagerly.

Since that day, well… you weren’t quite sure what Heechul was to you anymore. You did have feelings for him, but if you were willing to pursue a relationship – that was another matter entirely. You firmly believed that dating in the workplace could only lead to trouble; part of the reason why all your previous partners had absolutely no relation to your career. Dating Heechul would completely ruin that.

It didn’t help that Heechul straight-up admitted that he had feelings for you. You were probably the first person who hadn’t accepted his confession right away, if the look of “I’m-not-sure-what-I’m-supposed-to-do-with-this-situation” on his face when you turned him down was anything to go by.

You still couldn’t accept a full relationship with the Universe Superstar, but friends with benefits… that was another matter. Part of you still knew it was wrong and could still complicate things, but selfishly, you threw those cautions to the wind because deep inside you, you wanted to be with Heechul. You still weren’t confident on his romantic prowess, since you could confirm that his longest relationship had lasted about six months, but you were definitely, from firsthand experience, confident in his prowess in other areas.

Back to the present, you could feel Heechul’s thin fingers dancing along your jeans again. Reaching down under the table and pinching his hand, watching with satisfaction as he winced, you stood up in your seat. “I’ll be right back, I’m going to the bathroom,” you announced. You could feel Heechul’s eyes on you the entire way.

Once you reached the empty bathroom, you locked yourself in a stall and leaned against the wall, trying to catch your breath. Thanks to Heechul, the area between your legs was slick and throbbing mercilessly, and worse was the fact that you could hardly even be mad at him when you enjoyed his intimate touches. Your skin was flushed, your chest was heaving, and your thoughts had become very inappropriate for an occasion like this.

When you were confident that the lust rushing through your veins had abated a little, you unlocked the stall door and stepped outside, heading for the sink to wash your hands before you went back to the table. You were just trying them and throwing the paper towel in the trash when the bathroom door opened and Heechul came in.

“What the hell?” you hissed. “This is the women’s bathroom, Heechul!”

He shrugged, closing the bathroom door behind him and locking it. Your eyes narrowed, but you could tell that the heady rush that made your head spin wasn’t because you didn’t want him to be here. “I’ve been mistaken for a woman plenty of times.”

There was a look in his eyes that you understood all too well – and really, it wasn’t like you were unwilling either. You didn’t resist as Heechul backed you against the wall, closing the gap between the two of you, and pressed his forehead to yours. You could feel the warm puffs of air of his breath against your face.

He kissed you. No sign, no warning – he just pressed his lips fiercely to yours, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek. It would have been sweet, if not for his other hand going much lower to cup your ass and squeeze lightly. As he did, he broke from you and groaned. It was quiet, but, to your surprise, you could tell he was desperate. His hardness poked against your thigh through the layers of clothes, and you shook your head.

“We’re in public, you know,” you whispered.

“I know.” There was a devious glint in his eye. Seeing it, your competitive nature flared and you gripped the material of his shirt, flipping the two of you so he was the one pressed against the wall.

“You have no decency, you know that?” you asked hotly, fisting your hands in the fabric you were holding. You didn’t give a chance to respond before you yanked him toward you and kissed him, hard enough to bruise. Heechul moaned shamelessly, giving way to you as you plundered his mouth, exploring every inch of its searing dampness. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy letting you take the lead – body relaxed under your hands, malleable and obedient.

“Neither do you,” he breathed as you pulled away. His lips looked swollen.

“Shut up,” you hissed, even though there was no real force behind it. Unconsciously, you found yourself grinding your hips against him, searching for friction to relieve the persistent ache at your core.

Heechul flashed you an impish grin, placing his hands on your hips and kneeling at your feet before guiding you around so your back was pressed against the wall again. Your eyes widened as he settled between your still-clothed legs, looking up at you. Fuck, why was he so hot?

“May I?” he asked softly, wrapping his fingers around the waistband of your jeans. You could hardly believe you were willing to do this in a public bathroom, but you were certain that you’d go crazy before the dinner was over if you didn’t say yes. You nodded, unable to suppress an impatient moan.

Heechul usually had a thing for teasing, but he seemed just as rushed as you today – probably the fact that the two of you were in public contributed to that. Without hesitating, he yanked your jeans and underwear down, his large brown eyes fixed blatantly on the wetness between your legs. You flushed.

“Don’t just stare,” you demanded, and Heechul complied eagerly to your order. Peeling your jeans and underwear off completely before flinging them onto the ground next to him, he leaned in, his head dipping in between your lower limbs. Your body jerked as his lips came in contact with your core, tongue delving between your folds and lapping at your clit without preamble. You moaned, high pitched and desperate, and it seemed to spur him on. That tongue of his was dexterous – circling around your core, teasing it with darting flicks, flattening against it from time to time.

Caught up in sensation, your head thrown back against the wall, you were taken by surprise when Heechul pulled away, licking his lips. Opening your eyes, you let out a strangled gasp as you took in the sight of him kneeling at your feet, his mouth glistening with your wetness.

“What are you doing?” you asked, voice strained with unintentional frustration. God, you didn’t want him to stop. You needed him to keep going.

Heechul didn’t reply – not with words, at least. Instead, he placed a hand behind your left knee and hooked your leg over his shoulder. Without explaining himself, he dove back in, and you shrieked softly. The new angle provided him absolute access to probe his mouth against your core as he pushed his tongue into you. Your eyes closed as your hands flew down to tangle in his hair, yanking hard against his scalp, but he hardly seemed to take notice.

Heechul was totally relentless after that, never stopping or even slowing down his assault on your core and rapidly-stiffening nub. He worshipped you with single-minded attentiveness, until you couldn’t take it anymore and your entire body tensed for the oncoming orgasm. From then it was just a well-placed flick of his tongue against the length of your clit that sent you spiraling over the edge, clamping a hand over your own mouth to stifle your desperate moans.

As you came down from your high, panting, Heechul nuzzled your waist affectionately. He carefully removed your leg from his shoulder so you could stand on your own two feet again and picked up your jeans and underwear before standing and holding them out to you. Breathless, you took them from his hands.

“Better?” he asked teasingly. Too blissed out from the orgasm to give a snappy response, you nodded. With a soft smile, he kissed the side of your head, fingers brushing against your cheek.

“What about you?” you asked him hoarsely, glancing down at the bulge in his pants.

___

oppa: a term used by a female to refer to a male, older than her, that she is close to

___

He should be here soon, Taeyeon thought, glancing at the time. She took a deep breath. It wasn’t nervousness, exactly, that was making her shift on her couch – no, it was more like unease.

She and Jiyong-oppa hadn’t parted on the best of terms, when he finally enlisted in the military. Ever since that argument mid-2017… they had made up about a month afterwards, finding it too jarring, too hollow, to not see each other for so long, but still, both of them could tell that there was a rift growing again, the kind that hadn’t gotten between them since after they broke up all those years ago. The entire twenty months of Jiyong-oppa’s time in the military, thinking of him had made her feel like there was a gaping hole widening inside of her. It was bad enough that she missed him – his warmth, his kindness, his intelligence, his humor, his understanding.

But on top of that, she had been so worried that when he came back, things would no longer be the same. Almost two years… their relationship had already been dangling on a tenuous thread, and almost two years apart could be more than enough to completely sever that. She would do all that she could to ease the tension between them, but there was only so much that she could do. If Jiyong-oppa didn’t reciprocate, their relationship… it might go down the drain.

The thought of that was – well, it was horrifying. For better or worse, Taeyeon wasn’t the kind of person who liked to dwell on things that were over and done. She tried to push away thoughts of her father when he came up in her mind. She tried to ignore her mind’s incessant speculating about her mother. When she broke up with someone she buried the sadness where it couldn’t threaten her daily life and her work. But this was Jiyong-oppa. The person who called her half of his soul, the person that she called half of her soul. The person who understood her so intimately, so entirely, more than anyone else did. He was someone whose simple presence next to her brought her a sense of unspeakable comfort and contentment. Others might call in monotony – and maybe it was – but it was stable. Sure. Unchanging. And if she lost that…

With a long sigh, Taeyeon raked her hands through her hair. She was leaning back in the couch when she heard the sound of her apartment code being inputted. Her eyes widening, she leaped to her feet on autopilot, line of sight glued to the door.

Jiyong-oppa stepped in, shutting the door behind him. Their eyes met.

Taeyeon was walking towards him before she even consciously realized it. And she didn’t even have to make it halfway before Jiyong-oppa, reading her mind, opened his arms. Her hurried stride lengthened to a dead run, and she practically launched herself into his embrace, wrapping her hands around his waist tightly and burying her face in the crook of his neck. She felt him close his arms around her, his face pressed to the side of her head. All of it felt so natural. Nothing mattered. Her previous worries, they all evaporated to nothing. Meaningless. Hugging him, Taeyeon couldn’t even remember why she’d been so uneasy before.

“I missed you.” Jiyong-oppa’s voice was quiet, but choked with emotion. It was a rare thing for him to openly sound like this, and Taeyeon felt her throat closing up in response.

“I missed you too,” she whispered, holding him tighter, basking in the sudden contentment that had come over her as soon as their bodies collided. This. This was what had been out of her reach for the past two years without him – this feeling of security, of complete wholeness. She could only feel this when she was with him.

“You don’t get it,” Jiyong-oppa murmured, even though they both knew that she did get it – she got it perfectly. “I didn’t feel complete without you.” His arms around her tightened, but Taeyeon wasn’t complaining in the least. Reaching up, she threaded her fingers through his hair, still shorter than she was used to from his time in the military. Something about the motion seemed to please Jiyong-oppa – she could have sworn that if he were a cat, he would have purred as she did that.

“Neither did I.” And she was being honest.

They refused to let each other go for another minute. And when they finally pulled back, Jiyong-oppa cradled her face, his fingers brushing over her cheeks, and studied her desperately, like he was trying to make sure it was really her. His eyes were teary.

Overcome with emotion, Taeyeon traced the skin under his lower lip with her index and middle finger, needing to feel his warmth to confirm that this was a reality. That he really was back. She didn’t even notice that a tear slipped down her cheek until Jiyong-oppa smeared it gently with his thumb, his gaze fixating briefly on the droplet of water. He was really back, wasn’t he?

He is.

“We should sit,” Taeyeon said, even though her voice came out hoarse and broken from crying and she didn’t really want to let go of him. There was a beat and Jiyong-oppa nodded, reluctantly releasing her to take off his boots. He was still dressed in military gear – only the hat was missing, probably left in the car. Taeyeon led him into her apartment and to the couch, and they both sat.

She couldn’t take her eyes off of him. A part of her was still afraid that if she did, he would disappear.

He wasn’t looking away from her either. Their gazes met several times, but somehow, it wasn’t at all awkward, not in the least.

No, Taeyeon thought. It wasn’t somehow. She was a fool to have worried that it would ever be awkward between them after they hadn’t seen each other in so long.

“I’m sorry,” Jiyong-oppa said. “For everything I said to hurt you before.” He shook his head, the intensity in his eyes communicating all the things that just words couldn’t. “I was a fucking idiot for thinking I could bear to still be angry after two years without you.”

Taeyeon had to swallow hard before she could speak. “You went off to the army thinking that you would still be angry at me when you came back?” she asked. She wasn’t upset. She had had similar thoughts. Maybe not intentionally, but… it had always been there at the back of both of their minds, the idea of I’m angry at you now, and when we see each other again I’ll still be angry at you.

Jiyong-oppa nodded. “We were awkward when I left. I remember that a part of me was still pissed. I thought that it would last through all my time in the military, but it…” He shook his head. “…it all disappeared as soon as I walked away from you after we said goodbye.” Taeyeon had to avert her eyes at his admission to stop herself from tearing up again.

“I know I already apologized before I left for the military, but I need to do it again. Properly this time.” Jiyong-oppa’s voice was soft, but the sincerity in it could have shaken anyone to their core.

“I’m sorry, Taeyeon,” he said. “For everything I said to hurt you before. I didn’t mean any of it. Will you forgive me?”

I’ve already forgiven you, Taeyeon thought. I think I forgave you the moment you turned around after saying goodbye to me. She understood exactly what Jiyong-oppa was saying. She had thought some of the resentment left from their argument would last throughout all his time in the military, but she had been an idiot to think that. It hadn’t lasted, not even a single day.

“I forgive you.” Her response was simple, but she’d never been surer of anything she said. She did forgive him. Completely.

“And I need to apologize, too,” she said, because it was true and she did and it hadn’t been just Jiyong-oppa who’d let his words fly like bullets when they’d fought years ago. Apologies didn’t come naturally to her, but this one she had to do.

“Everything I said that hurt you that night,” she started, echoing his words because they applied to her completely too, “it was all a lie. Not a single word was true, and I should never have said any of it. I’m sorry. Will you forgive me?”

“I forgive you.” Jiyong-oppa didn’t hesitate, not even a single second.

That was it. That was all it took to resolve the tension that had been between them – or had it been resolved even before that? It was ridiculous to think that Taeyeon had worried so much about it for the past two years while Jiyong-oppa had been in the military, when it was just this… simple for them to figure it all out. It hadn’t even taken five minutes.

And now, looking at him, all of her problems felt distant, at least for the time being. She felt grounded, calm, even serene. After all the time she’d spent feeling like there was a gaping hole inside her, it was impossible to express in words how reassuring it was.

But if Taeyeon had had any doubts that their nickname for each other – my soulmate – was correct, she had none left now. Jiyong-oppa’s time in the military had been the undeniable confirmation, because she had just missed him so much. She wasn’t sure if it was normal to want to see anyone so badly. Without him, she’d felt like a huge chunk – no, half – of herself was just gone.

I didn’t feel complete without you, Jiyong-oppa had said. And that was it. That was exactly it.

Jiyong-oppa laughed. It was a short, breathless laugh, but it conveyed everything. Relief. Happiness. Disbelief. “You’re really here, aren’t you?” he asked, a smile spread over his face, crinkling his eyes and exposing his gums. God, that smile – Taeyeon hadn’t seen it in so long. It made her heart swell with pleasure.

“I really am,” she assured him softly. And you’re really here, too.

Without warning, Jiyong-oppa pounced on her, wrapping his arms around her again and sending her backwards so she was flat on her back on the couch with him on top of her. The surprise, though, lasted only a moment. She put one hand on the small of his back and the other on the back of his head, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. His familiar scent flooded her nose – it was exactly the same as she remembered, twenty months ago when he left for the military. She’d hugged him then, too, but it had been brief, stuffy, nowhere near as tightly as she was now.

For a few more minutes they were really content to just lay there, basking in each other. Jiyong-oppa relaxed completely on top of her, but he wasn’t heavy and Taeyeon didn’t mind. She adjusted her legs on either side of his waist to make them more comfortable, and let all the tension drain out of her body. It had been too long since she had felt so at ease.

“Hey,” she said softly. Jiyong-oppa stirred.

“Stay the night.”

He lifted his head and looked at her, their noses nearly touching. “If it’s okay with you then I’d be happy to.”

“It’s more than okay, I’m asking you to do it,” Taeyeon replied honestly. She knew Jiyong-oppa would become busy again soon. She knew that she was busy. But just for today, she wanted to have him by her side while she worked. Everything, even the things that stressed her out, always felt better when he was with her.

“Then let me just go to my apartment and get changed,” Jiyong-oppa said. Taeyeon nodded. His place was only one floor below hers anyway, so it would be quick.

For the rest of the day, she was happier than she had been in a long time. She still worked – sat on the couch and sketched out some design ideas for D’apchier, looked over the script for The World of the Married, an upcoming drama that she’d gotten a role for, read over some rough drafts for possible tracks in the future. They were things she did for the majority of every day, but it was completely different in that Jiyong-oppa was next to her. Sometimes he was laying with his head in her lap, other times he was leaning against her with his chin propped on her shoulder, and still other times they were just sitting, legs tangled together. It was tranquil.

“It figures that the first shower I take outside of the military is at your place,” Jiyong-oppa commented with a grin as he came out of the bathroom, rubbing a towel over his wet hair. He had switched to the pajamas he’d also brought over from his apartment, the thin material clinging to his moist skin. It made Taeyeon happy to see him look so relaxed.

“Complaining?” she asked, a smile involuntarily spreading over her face.

“Not at all.”

After he’d dried his hair completely, he flopped down on the bed next to her, making the mattress bounce with the impact. Her bed wasn’t satisfactorily big enough for two people, but they could both fit, their bodies pressed together and their legs in a careless tangle. They were both facing each other; even in the darkness of the room, Taeyeon could mentally map out every centimeter of his face. And as her vision adjusted slightly to the lack of light, she could make out his eyes, glinting lowly in the weak rays of moonlight making their way through her curtains.

“Let’s never do it again,” Jiyong-oppa whispered.

Taeyeon blinked. “What do you mean?”

He took one of her hands in his, his skin warm as it enveloped hers. “Let’s never let anything split us apart like that again.”

Feeling her heart swell, Taeyeon squeezed his hand and, reaching forward, placed her other hand on his chest. “Let’s not,” she agreed, her voice soft with emotion. “I’ve put too much into here,” she said, pressing her fingers gently against the spot that she could feel his heart beating, “to let that happen.”

It was true. There never was, and there never would be, anyone who knew her as much as Jiyong-oppa did. Over their nearly sixteen years together she had entrusted a lot of herself to him. She had told him, showed him, some of her deepest secrets, her most terrifying worries, her weakest moments – and he had done the same for her. He was someone she could relate to, someone who she could always look to for comfort just by him being there and someone who was comforted just by her being there, someone who invigorated her mind and calmed her heart and someone whose mind she invigorated and whose heart she calmed, in a way that no one else did to either of them. She would never let anything threaten what was between them again.

“Half of me is yours,” she murmured. “It’ll always be that way.”

Jiyong-oppa closed his fingers around her hand, placed on his chest. “Half of me is yours,” he replied. “Forever.”

Neither of them were people who believed in or spoke much about forever. Neither of them were people who even liked talking openly about their emotions. But this one thing, Taeyeon knew, they could be honest about.

“So these are all the children you’ve managed to find this month?” Hyunsuk asked, all the while not even bothering to look at the man at whom the question was directed. Instead, his sharp gaze swept over the children. The building wasn’t terribly fancy, nor was it something that would be considered fit for children, but after feeding, clothing, and letting them bathe, the children that they had brought in didn’t seen too unhappy. Still, the smarter, more experienced ones – the majority of the children, as most of the others had likely died already – continued to glance around warily. The ones that wouldn’t have survived if they’d been left out there much longer were already starting to loosen up, looking around with expressions of curiosity.

“For the most part, sir. There’s one more,” the man explained, and it was only then that Hyunsuk bothered to fix his eyes on him.

“Where?”

“She’s upstairs, sir. Room farthest down the hall.”

“Didn’t come down with the others?” These types of children tended to do what other children around them did. Safety in numbers, and it was difficult for them to trust adults.

“No, sir. She stayed completely still while the other children were being brought downstairs. One of our staff asked her if she wanted to come down. She said no.”

Without another word, Hyunsuk left the children to climb the stairs to the second floor. As he had expected, they would all be fairly useful in being trained as low or middle-ranking members of YG. The vast majority of the children brought in were.

He reached the second floor and walked down the long corridor to the room at the end. The door was slightly ajar, and through the crack he could see the back view of a young girl. She was sitting on a stool near the back of the room, swinging her legs.

Hyunsuk almost walked away. Swinging her legs – there was no way she could even have any type of common sense if she was relaxed enough to be swinging her legs in a situation like this. But, reminding himself that there was more to this girl than met the eye – there was more to every human than met the eye, after all – he opened the door further.

The girl looked up at him as he approached. She had straight black hair that reached her shoulders and pale skin. As her eyes, large and pale hazel with a hint of grey, settled on him, Hyunsuk almost paused in his tracks. Almost.

Even for a child who had grown up on the streets, her stare was different. It was observant – calculating. Sizing him up, gauging his intentions, estimating the danger that he posed.

It was a very excellent foundation for a member of YG, one that usually didn’t come around until about age thirteen or fourteen.

“Hi.” Hyunsuk kept his voice friendly.

“Hi.” Now that he was closer, he could see that the girl was working on a puzzle. The box lying next to it revealed that it was a thousand pieces in total, all of which were complete solid black. The puzzle itself was a little over two-thirds complete. Hyunsuk was surprised.

“Did you do this?” he asked. The girl nodded.

Hyunsuk examined her carefully for a few more seconds, his conviction growing stronger by the minute.

“What’s your name?”

She gave him another brief evaluation, clearly deciding if she should tell him or not. If he intended to hurt her in any way. He didn’t.

“I don’t have one.” The reply was matter-of-fact. Hyunsuk couldn’t tell if she was being honest or not, but he could tell if the fact mattered to her. And it didn’t. She wasn’t trying to fool him out of any attachment to a name she might have, if she did have a name. She might really not have one, or she might have one, but if she did it was one that she didn’t care about.

“How old are you?”

“Seven.”

Seven years old and this. Hyunsuk had no more doubts. He nodded, pulling out the seat next to her and settling in it. The girl turned back to her puzzle, and it took her only a few seconds to determine the location of another piece. She slid it in, and it clacked into place.

“I’m going to adopt you,” he said, deciding that it was best to tell her as soon as possible. He wasn’t sure what kind of response he’d been expecting, but this wasn’t it. The girl gave no reaction whatsoever. She didn’t even look at him; her gaze stayed firmly fixated on the puzzle pieces. Gingerly, she picked up another one and set it into its spot.

“Don’t you care?”

“I do, a little bit.” It was almost alien that she was so sincerely telling the truth. “But I’m not really surprised. I can’t imagine what else you would want with kids.”

Interesting. Her assessment had some flaws, but for her age, her unruffled demeanor alone was remarkable. Hyunsuk decided to test her further. “I could want to carve open their bodies and use them in the organ trafficking market,” he said. The girl looked away from the puzzle, only two pieces left until it was finished, and focused on him.

“Unless you were especially an asshat, I don’t see why you would feed them, give them clothes, and wash them.”

“You’re right,” Hyunsuk conceded. “Unless I was a particularly gleeful sadist, I probably wouldn’t.”

“What’s a sa-dist?” A gleam of interest appeared in her hazel eyes. It was the most passionate reaction that he’d seen out of her so far.

“Someone who really enjoys hurting others.” Hyunsuk leaned back in his chair, watching her carefully. She seemed intensely pleased to have learned the word, mouthing it to herself a few times over.

“You know,” he said, “I could have been a pedophile. Washing and feeding and clothing these children because I want to doll them up for myself.”

As opposed to her curious reaction to the word ‘sadist’, it was clear that the girl understood exactly what a pedophile was. Her eyes narrowed, her lips pressed together in a grim line, and her brows dipped in an expression of revulsion. “That’s disgusting.”

“It is,” Hyunsuk agreed. “But don’t worry; you’re right, I’m not gathering children for that. You were correct, actually. Even though you didn’t think of the possibility that I might be fattening the kids up for myself, did you?”

“How do I know you’re not lying now?” Her tone was guarded; suspicious. It looked like the thought of pedophiles had stirred some warning in her. Hyunsuk wondered if, at her level of repulsed disdain, she’d had firsthand experience with them. The thought, while not impossible or even unlikely – she was a child growing up on the streets, after all – was unsettling. He had been in the underground and the illegal scope long enough to know that there were plenty of pedophiles about in the world, but he wanted nothing to do with them, nor would he want her or any child to have anything to do with them, either.

“Do you think I’m lying?” Hyunsuk asked sincerely, meeting her eyes. She stared at him for a long while, brows furrowed together in concentration. It must have been at least one minute until she leaned back slightly, her observations done.

“No.” She still looked uneasy, but her answer was confident. “You’re not.”

She was healthily wary but still seemed to believe in her instincts, which was a good sign. Hyunsuk was certain now in his decision of adopting her. He’d be damned if he let this untapped well of potential go.

“My name’s Hyunsuk. Yang Hyunsuk.”

She didn’t say anything, but she looked thoughtful. Finally, her mouth opened. “Hi.”

It seemed pointless, but it was endearing in some vague way. He returned the greeting.

“If you’re going to adopt me, are you going to name me?” the girl asked. She had returned to swinging her legs. “You can’t refer to me as ‘you’ forever.”

“You’re right.” It didn’t surprise Hyunsuk that she’d taken that initiative. “Let’s give you a name first. Is there something you’d prefer?”

“Not really. Do what you want. Just don’t make it something weird.”

Amused at her childish stipulation, Hyunsuk sat back, thoughtful. He wasn’t going for something deep or meaningful; he just wanted to give her a name that was fitting for her.

“Taeyeon? How is that?”

“That’s pretty.” There was a note of satisfaction in the girl’s voice. Her eyes seemed to brighten, despite her honest claim that she didn’t really care about not having a name – it seemed that now that she had experienced having one, she liked it. “I like it.”

“Then that’s what we’ll call you.” Hyunsuk stood. “I’ll go speak to Jaehyuk about adopting you. It won’t take long.”

“Okay.” Taeyeon turned back to her puzzle, her focus shifting entirely from him to entirely on it. She seemed to have a good attention span on top of everything he had noticed about her; an untapped well of potential indeed. He didn’t know what luck brought him to Taeyeon out of all the children in the world, or if it was just pure dumb luck, but in any case he intended to do as much as he could with her.

After a ten-minute talk with Jaehyuk, for all intents and cares, Hyunsuk had adopted Taeyeon. He took her hand and led her from the building.

“You’ve adopted me,” Taeyeon spoke from her perch in the backseat, the seatbelt pulled snugly across her waist and chest, “but I don’t think I’m your daughter.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t know. It’s just not the impression I’m getting.”

Hyunsuk looked back at her and smiled. “Your instincts are correct, Taeyeon.” He had suspected she was sharp, and she just kept proving it to him. “I have adopted you, but you’re not my daughter. You can still call me ‘Father’, though, if you want.”

“Okay then.” The smile she sent his way was surprisingly innocent. “Father.”

~

The kid was waking up, his lanky limbs moving feebly and his head groggily turning to the side. Sooman watched intently as his subject of interest struggled to open his eyes. The boy couldn’t have been more than fifteen years old, with a youthful face and a thin, gangly body. Despite all that, the dark brown eyes that fixed on Sooman in alarm held an unusual amount of pessimism. Not the childish pessimism of a budding adolescent thinking the world was unfair for not going exactly his way, but the grown, jaded pessimism of an adult who had experienced too much hardship in too little time and knew exactly how cruel and without mercy the world was. The impression was only heightened by the ugly purple bruise decorating his neck, splayed across the pale, wet skin, dark and painful. There were thin, elongated blotches in the structure of the bruise that resembled finger marks. Sooman’s eyes narrowed, just the slightest bit.

The boy scrambled into a sitting position, the mud and grime of the garbage dumpster he was leaning against staining his face, hands, and clothes. Sooman didn’t move; any sort of movement could startle the kid, make him bolt. And while it wouldn’t be too difficult to catch him, it was also inconvenient.

“Who are you?” The kid was trying to sound tough, but it was obvious how spooked he was. His voice – on the higher, lighter pitch of the spectrum, but then again he didn’t seem to have gone through puberty yet – trembled, and he pulled his knees up to his chest in an instinctual defensive mechanism. Now that he was awake he seemed even younger; Sooman revised his opinion. No older than thirteen.

“My name’s Sooman. What’s yours?” He kept his tone open, casual, but not too friendly. If the kid felt that he was trying to butter him up, it would be harder to approach him.

A searching stare. Hesitation. Resolution of the dilemma. “J-Jungsoo.”

“And why are you sleeping out here, Jungsoo? It’s wet and cold, and I’m sure you’d prefer a variety of other places before this one.” He didn’t expect Jungsoo to answer him honestly, whatever the boy’s honesty consisted of. If he did, he would be an idiot.

Jungsoo didn’t disappoint him. “I… I come here often. I just fell asleep this time.” While the lack of honesty was all-too-plain, Sooman still approved. The child had hit good points – made sure not to give an answer that would imply he was vulnerable or not used to this place, because anyone with harmful intentions would exploit uncertainty. It was clear that Jungsoo had had that in mind in his answer, even though his delivery was less than stellar.

“So you’re homeless? No one with a home would come here often.” There was nothing to come here for. It was just a dumpster in a dark alleyway. Maybe there were some very peculiar people who liked the grime and the stench, but Jungsoo didn’t strike him as someone like that. Besides, he already knew that the kid was lying.

Jungsoo hesitated, something like conflict in his eyes. “I’m not.” That was his answer, but it seemed to lack the resolve of an honest, sincere one. Sooman arched an eyebrow, curious.

“And yet you’re here. And come here often, apparently.”

Jungsoo nodded feebly. It was clear that the boy knew he was walking right into a verbal trap, and he could say nothing that was plausible and convincing without contradicting what he’d said earlier. Still, Sooman had to admit that there was a lot of potential here. He had run into plenty of troubled adolescents during his time in the underworld, but not many were as sharp in gauging the safety of the situation as this Jungsoo was. He’d make a good asset.

“Are you sure you don’t have anything unpleasant going on at home?”

Jungsoo gasped – well, it was more like he sucked in a breath between his teeth too fast for his lungs to handle. “No. No. Nothing like that.”

The lie was obvious. Not only because the boy’s voice was rushed and slightly panicked, but because of that bruise that splotched over his otherwise pale neck, protrusions that resembled finger marks once again catching Sooman’s eye. It looked exactly like a grown man had grabbed Jungsoo by the neck in some kind of anger.

And Sooman had been watching the boy for some time now. Well, not directly, but ever since that day a few months ago that he’d accidentally come across Jungsoo kneeling in an alleyway and sobbing, his arms wrapped around himself as he rocked back and forth without even paying attention to all the trash and muck surrounding him, he’d ordered a man to gather what information he could about him and bring it back. Nothing too invasive, like breaking into his home; just when he left his house, which was a tiny, rather run-down apartment complex towards the outskirts of the area.

And according to what information he’d gotten, Jungsoo was nowhere near as carefree as a kid his age should be. Apparently, it was rather often that he came running out of the apartment as if he’d rather be anywhere else in the world. Apparently, it was rather often that he skulked in alleyways and streets for hours at an end. Apparently, it was rather often that when he dashed down the street away from his home, a man would lumber out of the apartment and shout threats and abuse in his direction, waving his fists angrily.

It was obvious the kinds of conditions he lived in. And while Sooman didn’t consider himself anyone’s benefactor or SM a charity, he had good reason for wanting Jungsoo to join the ranks. And Jungsoo had pretty good reason for agreeing to.

“Your father?” Sooman asked calmly. He made sure to keep any emotion at all from his tone, to avoid setting off any reaction from the kid.

It seemed to work at least a little. Jungsoo’s body curled, his legs pulling inward towards his chest and his arms wrapping themselves around his shoulders, but otherwise, there was no particular flaring up. “W-what did you say? Have you – have you been watching me?”

“I have,” Sooman admitted. No use denying it. “Your father is disgusting; that’s undeniable. No one should have to live like that.” It wasn’t like his words were entirely untrue, because he did feel genuinely sympathetic for anyone who was faced with abusive parents, but they weren’t words he’d be saying to just anybody. He was saying them to Jungsoo, sympathizing with him, because he wanted to kid to join SM, and playing on his unfortunate situation was probably the best way to convince him to do so.

Jungsoo’s eyes wavered.

“If you want,” continued Sooman, seeing plainly that what he was saying was having the intended effect, “then I can help you.”

The kid wiped at his eyes frantically, as if he could tell he was about to tear up and cry but didn’t want to in front of anyone. It didn’t seem like the immature ego of a teenager wanting to appear touch, but the desperation of an adult who knew any sign of weakness could be preyed on by strangers. “Why should I trust you?” he asked quietly.

“It’s an opportunity.” Jungsoo stared at him in confusion, so Sooman elaborated.

“It’s an opportunity to escape from your father. Do you think you’ll find a better chance than this? Someone offering to help you? If you can’t take this opportunity, do you think you’ll ever find it in yourself to get away from him?”

“But for all I know you’re not even giving me that opportunity,” Jungsoo challenged. He sounded a bit shaky, like he wasn’t used to tiptoeing his way around logic games – which made sense, considering his physically violent father. “You could be planning to just sell me. Or to––” He shuddered, and Sooman didn’t need words to know what possibility the boy was thinking of. It irritated him to even be looked at with the possibility of being trash like that, but it was only expected for a kid in Jungsoo’s situation.

“Do you think that’s what I’m planning to do?” he asked, meeting Jungsoo’s eyes. The adolescent flinched, but held his gaze.

“I – I… don’t know.” Well. If Jungsoo was openly admitting to not knowing something, admitting to an uncertainty, an insecurity, to him, then it was a sign that he was opening up. It was faster than Sooman had expected it to take, but then again, when your father hit you and beat you, maybe you were quick to cling on to other people, even unconsciously.

“Of course you don’t. You’d never know for sure.” Sooman made sure to keep his voice quiet and soothing. “But what do you think?”

Jungsoo hesitated, his gaze flicking over him warily. It must have been a good fifteen seconds before the boy spoke again. “I don’t think that’s what you’re planning to do.”

“If that’s what you think, then trust your instincts,” Sooman advised – sincerely, because that was almost all that he’d been doing for the past decade and a half. Trusting his instincts not to fail him. He wasn’t dead yet, so he must have been doing something right. He knew it was a gigantic leap for Jungsoo to even begin to consciously put any trust in him, but if he wasn’t willing to take risks like this then he would never be able to advance – and that meant he was pretty much worthless.

Jungsoo hesitated again. His eyes wavered as he stared at Sooman, as if he was trying to look into his mind and puzzle out if he was truly being honest, or if he had harmful intentions. He breathed in shakily. His lower lip trembled. His hand reached up to rub subconsciously at the angry purple bruise on his neck – the one that his father had left.

“…How will you help me?”

Pleased, Sooman leaned back a little, the tension of Jungsoo’s imminent decision dissipating. “For starters,” he said, “I’m going to get you away from your father.”

Jungsoo was silent as a statue and even stiller. There was a mix of hope, eagerness, terror, sadness, and resentment in his dark eyes that was, admittedly, heartbreaking. No teenager should have to feel like this about leaving his only remaining family.

“How?” he finally asked. “Who are you, anyway?”

“My name’s Lee Sooman,” Sooman introduced himself. “And for starters, you need to come with me. Don’t worry about your father anymore; I’ll take you to a place where he can never get you.” He offered Jungsoo his hand to help him get to his feet, and, just as he’d expected, the teenager didn’t immediately take it. Instead, he stared at the outstretched limb, uncertainty once again coloring his gaze. Sooman didn’t blame him, but he also didn’t have all the time in the world.

“Trust your instincts, Jungsoo.”

jagi: a Korean word that can be used to refer to one’s significant other

___   

The name Leeteuk wasn’t really associated with mischief in the idol world. Leeteuk was supposed to be the responsible leader of Super Junior, the tired mother who did his very best to keep a merry gang of crazy men sufficiently under control. And in some ways, Jungsoo knew, that was who Leeteuk was. But Leeteuk could also be mischievous, and right now Jungsoo was up to some mischief.

Well. If someone asked him, he would insist that it wasn’t mischief. It was for science, and his girlfriend was the subject.

Taeyeon was notorious for being good at, well… everything. Not only musically – though certainly that too – but athletically, linguistically, academically, practically, socially – he didn’t have the time on his hands to name it all. Not once had he seen her fail, or even so much as rattled.

And Jungsoo loved how capable she was. He did. But she had to have some weakness, right? It just wasn’t plausible that a human being could be such a natural in every field. There had to be something, and he was determined to find out what it was.

~

“Come on, jagi,” he whined into the cell phone, throwing in the jagi, a word he rarely used, to let her know how desperate he was. “I have to go soon, and Shimkoong is absolutely refusing to go where I usually leave her when I’m away. I don’t know who else to count on. Please?”

“Okay, okay. You always know how to get what you want.” On the other end of the line, there was amusement in Taeyeon’s voice as she accepted his request. Jungsoo gave a mental shout of triumph. “Thanks, Taeyeon. I’ll have her over soon. I love you.”

“I love you too.” The sincerity that rang when she said those words warmed his heart, distracting him from his plotting, even for just that second.

Once she’d hung up, he scooped his dog into his arms and gotten into his manager’s car, asking him to head quickly to Taeyeon’s apartment before they arrived at the filming location. Usually they stayed together in his place, but with both of their schedules packed for most of the days of the current month, they’d decided it might be more convenient to stay apart from some time so the all the chaos didn’t clash in one apartment.

At his girlfriend’s place, Jungsoo watched Shimkoong intently as he handed her over to Taeyeon, who stroked the dog’s head and cooed. Shimkoong tended to get rather cranky in unfamiliar places, especially when he wasn’t around, and when she got cranky she could keep it up for several days at time, running around and barking and refusing to listen – which was what he was counting on. He thanked Taeyeon one more time with a kiss on the forehead, to which she laughed and swatted him away playfully. Before he left for the broadcast he was filming that day, though, she still sent him off with a kiss on the lips (since he insisted) and a “good luck”.

The filming took the better part of the day, and they paused in between only for a thirty-minute lunch break and forty-five-minute dinner break. By the time he was finished, Jungsoo was exhausted, but there was one thought that kept energy coursing through his body. He headed over to Taeyeon’s apartment, fully expecting to arrive to a relentless Shimkoong scampering around, barking up a storm, and an annoyed girlfriend. But when he walked in through the door, he saw his dog running up to him happily, wagging her tail. Trailing behind her came Taeyeon, looking calm and collected as ever. She shot him a smile, almost like she knew what his scheme was.

Jungsoo pouted.

~

Jungsoo stared at the instruction booklet in his hand and then back at the scattered parts of the new computer he had bought and was trying to assemble. He’d made some progress, but the pieces were still far from a working device, and he couldn’t help feeling that this was his limit; he had had yet another filming for another variety show earlier that day, he was tired and hungry, and the fact that the instruction manual’s font size was probably about five wasn’t helping matters. Huffing through his nose in frustration, he set the booklet down, glaring at the parts in front of him. And then an idea came.

“Taeyeon?” he called. He heard footsteps, and then she appeared from the hallway, her hair tied back messily in a ponytail.

“What is it?” she asked, kneeling next to him and rubbing his back soothingly. Jungsoo was silent for a second, melting into the sensation of her slim fingers against his skin through the thin T-shirt he wore.

Gathering himself, he turned to her with puppy eyes that he reserved only for her sight, probably because they wouldn’t have the slightest millimeter of an effect on the other members. “Do you think you could help me with this?”

Taeyeon glanced down at the mechanical parts strewn across the floor, then at the instruction manual that Jungsoo was still holding. To his surprise, she flashed him a small smile.

“Of course.”

A little restless with anticipation, Jungsoo handed her the manual. She squinted at its text, read one of the lines, stared down at the pieces for a moment, and then got to work.

About an hour later, the computer was put together nicely, its polished black plastic and metal practically glinting under the lights. Jungsoo held down on the power button, and the newly-assembled device turned on without a hitch.

He huffed.

~

When he’d suggested a walk to his girlfriend, this was not what he’d had in mind. He had just wanted a peaceful stroll in the moonlight with Taeyeon and Shimkoong, a chance to unwind after all the hecticness of the past two months. It didn’t seem like much of a request, but apparently the universe had deemed that it was.

Because they’d run into three of the many juvenile delinquents that often roamed the streets of Seoul at night while under the impression that they were grown and could do whatever they wanted. (It was a phase everyone went through in their late teens, though thankfully the majority didn’t let it get so out of hand that they began committing borderline illegal acts.) The kids couldn’t have been more than eighteen or nineteen, maybe twenty tops, but they sure had strutted right up to Jungsoo and Taeyeon like they were professional criminals.

Jungsoo calculated in his head the risks. He didn’t really want to run; it would feel silly fleeing from practically children, but getting in a fight didn’t seem very appealing either. Both of them were wearing caps to partially conceal their faces, and the dark was helping, too, but still, the consequences of a celebrity getting in a fight… no, they weren’t worth it.

On her leash, Shimkoong was snarling and barking.

“Cute dog, mister,” the kid in the front, a tall but thin boy with ripped jeans and a black jacket, smirked as he eyed Shimkoong blatantly. Nerves flaring, Jungsoo fought the urge to glare. His eyes flicked sideways toward Taeyeon who had just been standing next to him a second ago, but now she wasn’t there anymore. She’d stepped forward in the path of the delinquents, posture unnervingly relaxed. If Jungsoo was just a passerby he would have thought she was someone who often picked fights on the street, too.

“We’re trying to take a walk, so it would be nice of you to go on your merry way,” she said calmly.

The atmosphere was full of uneasiness; Jungsoo’s muscles were tense, Shimkoong’s fur stood on end, and there was visible aggression in the delinquent’s stare as he looked down at Taeyeon.

Eventually, though, he spat sideways in an attempted show of dominance, saliva flying from his mouth and landing with a splat on the street. Jungsoo fought the urge to wrinkle his nose, and Shimkoong gave a very soft growl. Taeyeon didn’t move.

“Tsk. Whatever, slut.” The delinquent’s voice was somewhere between sullen and purposefully dismissive, like he was trying overly hard to sound though. “Come on, guys. Let’s not waste time on this cuck and his bitch.”

Without another word, the three kids stalked off, glancing back occasionally at Jungsoo and Taeyeon with slight unease as if they were afraid they were going to attack them from behind. Jungsoo couldn’t help feeling the slightest bit of pity; he knew that brash hotheadedness mixed with crippling insecurity and nearly animalistic desire to prove yourself of early adulthood, and it was a no pleasant feeling. But he couldn’t feel any kindlier towards them than that, on account of the slurs their leader had used to refer to Taeyeon. Only once the three of them had vanished from sight from several seconds did he relax.

The entire time, though, Taeyeon hadn’t blinked an eye once (figuratively speaking). Slightly awed at his girlfriend’s composure, Jungsoo threaded his fingers through hers, squeezing. She glanced at him, and it somehow wasn’t a surprise to see her instantly smiling again.

“Doesn’t anything scare you?” He was half-chiding, because he would feel better if she was more cautious, but half-asking, because she legitimately had not seemed fazed.

Taeyeon squeezed his hand back with a shrug. “Plenty of things do, but not a few delinquent kids.”

~

Hyukjae, Donghae, and Ryeowook were fighting. About what, Jungsoo didn’t know. All he knew, or cared to know, was that he, eyelids practically drooping from filming since seven A.M. that morning, was just trying to sleep early for once when he’d been interrupted in his preparations to crash by the sound of the three members’ raised voices.

All of them had moved temporarily back into the dorm recently because they had several group schedules coming up that required long hours of driving and decided it would be more convenient to just go at the same time, rather than every member setting off and arriving at different hours depending on the traffic in their area. On one hand, it was nice because it was nostalgic; it took him back to the time when they were young and vigorous and the burden of their fame hadn’t quite caught up to them yet. On the other hand, Jungsoo felt like he was fucking dying. He’d forgotten how uncontrollable it could get with all of them living in the same space.

A few hours ago, Taeyeon had come over and spent the night at the dorm, eating dinner with them while rolling her eyes several times at the teasing from the other members to keep things private in the bedroom. They did not, in fact, have any intention of doing anything that night, for the sake of being courteous of everyone else, and it would be more than nice enough to fall asleep next to her.

Jungsoo just wished he’d get to lay down in peace.

“What do you mean, me? You’re the one who’s at fault here!” Ryeowook’s shrill voice rang through the dorm. Jungsoo groaned, suppressing the urge to shriek into the pillow. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with this.

Taeyeon must have seen the will to live fading from his eyes, because she sympathetically patted his shoulder. “You okay?”

Jungsoo took another calming breath. “Yeah. I’m just tired.” That was one way to put it. A more accurate way would be “I’m just done with this bullshit” or something along those lines, but he restrained himself.

“That’s understandable. Go and sleep, I’ll sort everything out,” Taeyeon suggested, giving him a light push toward the bed. Jungsoo sat down on the mattress, pointedly ignoring another bout of loud arguing from outside. “Are you sure?” She should know better than anyone how difficult his members were to deal with.

“It’s not like I’m unfamiliar with how Super Junior works,” she reassured him, amusement in her voice. “I’m still hanging around you people, which means I’m picking up some of your insanity – since that’s the only way to survive around this group.” She wasn’t exactly wrong. Maybe none of them had been exactly normal since the beginning, but being around each other had only amplified the chaos over the years.

“Okay, I’m counting on you then,” Jungsoo said, laying down with a sigh of bliss. She patted his head and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before leaving the room, flicking the light switch off as she did and closing the door tightly. Jungsoo stared after her, wondering how well she would fare.

Miraculously, he drifted off, but the concern over what had become of the argument must have been eating at him more than he realized, because only two hours later, he found himself blinking up into the darkness. It was quiet outside, but a quick glance at the door showed him that the lights of the living room were still on, which meant at least some of the other members were still awake. Taeyeon wasn’t back, either.

Rubbing his eyes, he got up out of the bed and peeked out into the hallway. The way his door was positioned, he had a fairly good view of Hyukjae, Donghae, and Ryeowook sitting together on the sofa, talking quietly but cheerfully. Clearly, they had made up. Perched just a little distance away, watching the three with the expression of a satisfied mother, was Taeyeon.

She was even good at mediating arguments.

~

I give up. Jungsoo was about to admit that he’d lost. Apparently, his girlfriend was just perfect – good at everything on top of being funny and intelligent and beautiful. He was ready to just accept that he’d been lucky enough to somehow snag a superhuman for a partner.

He couldn’t even find anything bad to say about her cleaning, he noted, as he glanced over his shoulder at her, kneeling in a corner and wiping away dust. They had decided they’d spend the day today tidying up his apartment; something that Jungsoo was used to and liked doing, but there was a new kind of enjoyment in it when his girlfriend was there doing it with him.

He was engrossed in wiping down some of the drawers when Taeyeon shrieked – a terrified, shocked, shrill, and entirely alien noise. Alarmed, Jungsoo spun around in her direction to find her staring underneath one of the windowsills with horror in her eyes before she distanced herself from it at the speed of light. Bewildered, he abandoned what he was doing hurried over, wondering what it possibly could be that she’d seen. He had never heard her sound so frightened; she’d hardly even flinched when they were watching The Wailing together, so what could have scared her so badly now, especially in his apartment?

“What is it? Is there something there?”

Taeyeon looked over at him, disgust marring her greyish-hazel eyes. “There’s a spider!”

Jungsoo stopped in his tracks, dumfounded. A spider?

Approaching the windowsill and looking under it, he saw that she was right – there indeed was a tiny, light brown spider there, settled among its webs.

He glanced back at Taeyeon, whose gaze was still fixed under the windowsill like residing there the most monstrous abomination that had ever existed. “Jagi, it’s just a spider.”

“Just a spider?” She sounded practically furious that he’d dared use the word just in reference to a spider; in fact, this might be the most rattled he had ever seen her. “Kill it already!”

Jungsoo chuckled. He couldn’t help it. After all the ridiculous antics he’d done to try and pinpoint anything that might faze his girlfriend, this was it? A tiny spider? Sure, he might not be fond of arachnids, but her visceral reaction was on another level.

“Not funny,” Taeyeon muttered from behind him, flicking him on the back of the head as punishment for his amusement. Jungsoo turned around to face her, unable to stop smiling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Just… I didn’t think a spider would be the thing to crack your composure.”

“Oh, shut up and get rid of it,” she hissed, furrowing her brows at him in displeasure. Obediently, Jungsoo knelt in front of the windowsill and disposed of the spider with a piece of toilet paper. As he stood, he noticed Taeyeon backing up, eyeing the crumpled paper in his hand warily.

“You know a tiny spider can’t hurt you. Especially if it’s dead,” he pointed out.

“It’s not about hurting me,” Taeyeon admitted, her nose wrinkled. “I just hate spiders. They’re… disgusting. Now will you please throw that away?” She had inched further away from him. Well, not him specifically; it was the toilet paper with the squashed spider that held all her animosity.

Ever the dutiful boyfriend, Jungsoo obeyed and made his way to the bathroom, where he flushed the arachnid. As he washed his hands, he glanced at Taeyeon, who had been peeking in to confirm with her own eyes that the spider was long gone. “Better?” he asked, amused.

“Better,” she huffed. “You think this is real amusing, don’t you?” The words were an accusation, but, now that the spider was completely gone, she seemed to have relaxed. There was playfulness in her tone, and she was smiling faintly.

Washing his hands as he formulated a response, Jungsoo decided there was no point in hiding it – she’d already caught on. “It’s just… you always seem to be a natural at everything. For a spider of all things to freak you out so much is funny.”

“Well. I never thought you’d have such a cleaning obsession when I first met you, either,” Taeyeon retorted, but her voice was mild.

“Ouch, low blow. What did you think I’d be like?” Jungsoo challenged as he wiped his hands with the towel. He was genuinely curious; by her own admission she’d been a Super Junior fan since their debut, which meant that she must have known something about him even before they met for the first time during a broadcast. He forgot which one – they’d seen each other several times for business over the years, although it was only in 2014 when she worked with Super Junior for their MAMACITA album that they’d become closer than just acquaintances.

“Well,” she said thoughtfully, “I thought you’d be more naturally witty. I thought you wouldn’t complain and nag as much as you actually do. I thought you wouldn’t be so awkward when you flirt. I thought you’d give me less cheesy pickup lines.”

“Jagi…” Jungsoo complained.

Smiling, Taeyeon closed the gap between them with a light hop and reached up to take his face in her hands, pressing her lips to his in a chaste kiss. When she pulled away, Jungsoo flushed, not having expected the sudden display of affection. There were times when his girlfriend could seem slightly detached, but other times, she was touchy-feely like this.

“I love you, Jungsoo,” Taeyeon said simply, dropping all honorifics from his real name in the way that made him shudder a little under her hands. “I love everything that you are. Cheesy pickup lines and all.”

She went to move away, but Jungsoo grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him so their foreheads were touching. She was significantly shorter than him, but the height difference was just suited so that he could look directly into her eyes like this. God, she was beautiful. Almost unconsciously, he brushed his thumb over the soft skin of her face.

“I love you too.” The words were barely a whisper.

With a smile, Taeyeon cupped his face in her hands. “I don’t say this often, but I want to right now,” she said. “I love you, and I’m going to protect you from anything.”

The rush that flooded him made Jungsoo heady and breathless, his veins burning like he was being scorched from the inside out with the heat of his emotion. “For how long?” he murmured, stroking his fingers across her cheek.

___

eonni: a term used by a female to refer to another female, older than her, that she is close to

___

True love.

It was never something you had really believed in, until you met Donghae. Maybe it was because your idea of true love was just too lofty. You wanted everything you read about in the books. Unshakable devotion. Absolute trust. Untouchable intimacy. Your idea of true love was the kind of love where no real work was needed between the two parties, because they belonged together. The kind of love where both parties were willing to move heaven and earth for the other. The kind of love where there was nothing else in the world that both partners valued over each other. The kind of love where both parties would sacrifice anything necessary for the other person. The kind of love that always burned high and never died down under the test of time like so many people around you told you relationships worked. The kind of love that a person never got over, no matter how many long, trying years passed. No matter how many of your partners left you, no matter how badly your relationships turned out, you seemed incapable of letting go of that ambition. It didn’t matter that you heard countless accounts of how love was nothing but tricks that hormones played, that all romantic love eventually became platonic love or just died, or even the many pessimists who claimed that love wasn’t real. You believed in your idea of true love, you believed it was possible to achieve that, and you wanted to achieve it. To find the one person that was meant for you.

You found that true love with Lee Donghae. God, how could you describe him? He was everything to you. You loved everything about him. There wasn’t a single thing in the world that you wouldn’t give up for his sake. If Hell existed, you knew you’d even willingly go there if he needed you to. You happened to run into him, by pure chance, when you went on a vacation to Korea. He walked into you, quite literally, and when you’d recognized the man apologizing profusely and offering you a hand to help you stand, you, as an avid Super Junior fan, had practically exploded.

But even that was nothing compared to how you felt when he asked you to be his girlfriend. You’d never felt such an intense, consuming high in your life before. It was more than you expected was possible for one human body to accommodate. How could you possibly have said no? You’d do anything for him. You gave up your close proximity with your family and moved to Korea, to his place. Now, normally, you weren’t one to rush relationships so much. You preferred to take it slow, and you had no interest in winding up in some man’s house only to go through the trouble of moving back barely three months later. But with Donghae, you knew it would be different. You’d never loved anyone before as much as you loved Donghae. His kindness, his humor, his liveliness, his charm, his smile, him – you were head over heels, you knew you were head over heels, and you were unapologetic and unashamed of acknowledging and admitting it. He was your entire world, and it was easy for you to tell that if you had to be in a long-distance relationship with him, you wouldn’t be able to take it. You usually wouldn’t be too keen to be dependent on a guy – after all, your Korean might be fluent since your parents had taught it to you since a young age, but you had no job, no way to make money. But Donghae, you trusted him completely.

You even gave him your first time. Even though he wasn’t your first relationship, and you leaned toward the preference of physical intimacy after marriage, he was the first person to make you feel like you could really find a home in him forever. He was the first person whom you trusted enough to give something so important to.

For nearly three years, the relationship felt flawless. The two of you would do everything together. Donghae would take you on walks outside and watch the sunset, holding your hand, smiling at you and telling you how beautiful, how perfect, you were. He’d happily help you with the laundry when he wasn’t busy with schedules, and often it’d end up in a childish fight of throwing clothes at each other until you’d made a mess and both of you were breathless and flushed with laughter. He’d lay in bed, holding you in his arms and telling you every little piece of himself. Often, he’d switch the topic to you then, making you flush with embarrassment as he described all the sweet things he’d thought about you and as he expressed how he couldn’t seem to breathe when you weren’t there with him.

Sure, you two had arguments here and there, but they ended rather quickly when you apologized. You couldn’t bear seeing Donghae angry, and neither did he enjoy it – he almost instantly accepted your apologies. He was loving, caring, and attentive, paid attention to your every detail and took the time to learn every single one of your likes and dislikes, so he could surprise you and please you on the appropriate occasions. When he was away, he always made sure to call every day, to ask how you were and to assure you that he’d be home soon. Even when he was exhausted with schedules there would be times when you walked out into the kitchen to see that he had made you a meal. He wasn’t the greatest cook in the world, but the thought and the love that had gone into the food made everything he made for you absolutely scrumptious.  

Donghae was so impossibly good to you. He made you feel secure, full, loved, and protected, always, and your love for him burned. Sometimes, you thought it might just swallow you whole with its searing intensity. You couldn’t possibly ask for a happier relationship in every way possible, except…

Except the fact that you were jealous of his best friend.

You knew it was irrational – every empirical fact told you that it was, and you considered yourself a logical person. Yet for some unknowable reason, you were just unable to shake that feeling of envy that enveloped you whenever you saw Donghae with Hyukjae. You knew that their fans were fond of their relationship, you even knew they had a ship name, Eunhae, but you never thought you would pay it much attention. You trusted Donghae completely, after all, and even beyond that, you just weren’t a jealous person in general. In fact, you hated clinginess. But here you were, desperately trying to hide the fact that you turned green with envy whenever you saw Hyukjae with Donghae. You couldn’t place your finger on why.

Maybe it was just everything about Hyukjae’s relationship with Donghae made you draw unintentional comparisons with your relationship with him, and with every comparison yours seemed to be inferior. Hyukjae had known Donghae far, far longer than you had, which meant, at least in your mind, that he knew him much better. They had been best friends since practically adolescence, after all. How could you compete with that, with your measly three years of knowing your boyfriend? And it was always Hyukjae who made Donghae laugh, Hyukjae who Donghae had a visible soft spot for, Hyukjae who Donghae was clearly partial to. Meanwhile, it was always Donghae who made you laugh – your sense of humor just couldn’t seem to keep up with his. Not to mention, both Donghae and Hyukjae were absolutely gorgeous. You weren’t so bad yourself, but compared to them, you felt plain and unremarkable.

It was Hyukjae who had this undeniable, flawless chemistry, this sense of balance in every aspect, with Donghae, a kind that you just couldn’t seem to achieve. A kind that, you knew, you’d make a fool of yourself just trying to achieve.

And you didn’t mean to, but sometimes you’d catch yourself being snappish around Hyukjae. He was charming and nice and had never been unkind to you a day in his life, but you found yourself being curt, borderline rude, towards him. It was the only issue that had ever caused a significant rift between you and Donghae. The one thing that he raised his voice to you over.

Of course, you apologized because it was you who was in the wrong, and Donghae accepted your apology like he always did. But still, you never forgot that the one thing that made him truly shout at you was your unpleasantness towards his best friend. Out of all the things, that was what ticked him off the most? Combined with your insecurity regarding Donghae and Hyukjae’s relationship, you felt even more distressed.

Regardless, you kept your mouth shut about the issue. It had to be just you being illogically jealous, and there was no need to drag other people into that personal problem. Besides, if you spoke up about it you were pretty sure no one would take it seriously. Hell, even you couldn’t take it seriously most of the time. Why would you be jealous? There was no need to be – or so you kept telling yourself.

Then, late in the third year of your relationship with Donghae – almost the fourth – you realized your jealousy had been justified.

Donghae started acting differently around you, especially when he was around Hyukjae. Before, he would cling to you like a baby koala, peppering your face and neck with kisses, running his hands over your fingers, resting his chin on your shoulder. He was always absolutely overflowing with physical affection, as he considered it one of the best ways to express his feelings. But now… most of the exchanges that the two of you shared were comprised of short, quick greetings and farewells, and maybe the occasional kiss on the cheek from Donghae. When you tried to initiate anything beyond that he shied away, made excuses, apologized. He would leave early in the morning, even on days when Super Junior had no schedules, and came back late at night when you were already asleep. You barely even saw him around the shared apartment anymore, and when you did he always seemed nervous. Guilty, even. You weren’t an idiot – you didn’t need someone to spell out what was going on.

It honestly might have been better if he’d just cheated on you with a random someone, but no – like you said, your jealousy was justified. Because around Hyukjae, Donghae bloomed in a way he never did anymore when he was with you. He had practically become one with the other man, following him everywhere, smiling whenever he smiled, laughing whenever he laughed, sitting with him in corners and conversing intently with him like they were the only two people in the world. He would cling to Hyukjae, whisper playfully in his ear so the two of them would break into laughter at whatever secret joke they’d just shared. He’d complain when they had to be apart for even a second, forgetting completely about you as you walked silently next to him. When Hyukjae was there, Donghae all but ignored you. It wasn’t even like it was borne out of malice; he was simply so taken by Hyukjae’s presence that he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to anything you.

As if the world was mocking you, as if that wasn’t enough evidence, you had opened your eyes late one night while dozing off on the couch to see Donghae coming back home after a meeting with Hyukjae, his lips swollen and his unbuttoned collar failing miserably to cover the hickeys on his neck, which most definitely weren’t from you. Anyone with half a brain would be able to figure out who exactly Donghae’s little fling was.

You were even certain that you knew the exact day that it had first started, which was an amazing testament to just how atrocious at covering themselves up Donghae and Hyukjae were. It was four months ago – a stressful day for you. You’d received a call from your older brother, Mingyu, that your father had collapsed from sudden cardiac arrest. Thrown into an absolute panic, and utterly, utterly afraid for your father’s life, you’d anxiously waited for an update on his condition, pacing the empty apartment you shared with your boyfriend for hours, breaking down and sobbing hysterically more than once or twice. Every ten minutes, you found yourself calling Donghae, who’d left about twenty minutes ago, because you were terrified. All the possibilities that might become reality were making you dizzy, sick, nauseous, and faint, and you needed him there to comfort you. You needed him to hold you to his chest and assure you that everything was going to be alright.

But he never picked up.

It was only after everything was over, four hours after you’d received the news, that your father was stable. You could have collapsed from relief right then and there.

Donghae had called you an hour after the situation was resolved, worried at the sheer volume of your calls. You’d been snappish and frazzled – rightfully so – demanding to know where he’d been for so long that he couldn’t pick up your calls. He’d apologized, telling you that he was out with his members, discussing the direction of Super Junior’s next album, and he’d left his phone off. You had forced yourself to calm down and told him you got it. And when Donghae got home, he was quick to embrace you and comfort you. The last thought that flitted through your mind as he wrapped his arms around you and you forgot everything in his warmth was the curiosity of why he seemed slightly sweaty. It wasn’t a hot day.

Of course, after that he’d gotten progressively easier to see through, until you’d pieced it all together, as anyone with half a brain would be able to. For a few months after it all clicked in your head, you didn’t say anything. You weren’t really sure what to say, honestly. Your heart had been shattered to pieces – that much was undeniable, and yet this wasn’t just any normal heartbreak. You couldn’t figure out how you were supposed to react. Sometimes you cursed Donghae’s name, other times you raged on your own at Hyukjae, other times you hated yourself for maybe not being good enough that Donghae would look at other people, and still other times you found yourself hoping that he would just stop it eventually. But he didn’t.

That particular day, you had shown up at Super Junior’s music video set, having bought some food for all of them. The boys all expressed their gratitude enthusiastically; Leeteuk called you their savior, Heechul gave you a dramatic hug, Kyuhyun profusely declared his thanks while practically devouring the food with his eyes, and even Eunhyuk approached to say thank you. (He had been trying to avoid you since roughly the time his relationship with Donghae started, although when you did have to interact he was nothing but pleasant, if a little distant.) You nodded stiffly, torn between glaring at him and not looking at him. Donghae gave you a hug, another peck on the cheek, and took some food to the far corner, standing with Hyukjae. You could make out the two men talking, completely absorbed in each other, while they ate. A lump grew in your throat. You were about to leave, but Heechul stopped you, invited you to eat with them as thanks. You really didn’t want to, but you also weren’t about to refuse his kindness. Even so, noticing the disappointed look in Donghae’s eyes when he heard you weren’t leaving yet was almost enough to make you break down in front of the entire group and their staff.

Somehow, you managed to weather the ordeal without letting your distress show. You said your goodbyes to the boys, and just when you were about to leave Donghae approached you, Hyukjae at his heels. The sight almost made you turn and haul ass away from the set, but you held your ground and miraculously kept your expression under control.

“Thanks again for the food,” Donghae said, smiling at you. He looked like he was excited but trying not to let it show. You knew why.

“Yeah.” Your voice was toneless. “I’ll see you at home.”

“Bye.” This time it was Hyukjae from behind your boyfriend. Or, you supposed bitterly, his boyfriend. There was such potent guilt in his voice that you wanted to slap him. If he was going to feel so bad about cheating with Donghae, he could at least have the indecency to be shameless about it. But no – he was doing it when he knew full well how wrong it was, and felt sorry because of it. Somehow, that made you angrier than the alternative.

You nodded once. Not wishing to hear anything more from them, you quickly left the set, your jaw clenched.

When you got home, you laid down and cried. There was nothing you could do except cry, thinking of all the times that you and Donghae had spent together, completely absorbed in and enamored with no one else but each other. You should have known better than to trust anyone, least of all him. You had given him everything, you had made him your entire world, you had left your home country and surrendered your independence, which you cherished so much, for him. You had given him your first time, going against your previously firm conviction that physical relations were for after marriage, believing in your heart that he wouldn’t betray you and disappoint you. And now everything – everything – was ruined. He’d taken all that you’d offered freely to him and then flung it callously to the wolves. And Hyukjae – he had taken Donghae, knowing how hopelessly in love with him you were. And what was more, he had the audacity to feel bad about what he did. If he was going to take Donghae from you he might as well do it like he meant it. But no – he had to be sorry for what he did. You hated them both – for doing this to you, for going behind your back like this, for letting whatever was between them go this far when you were in the picture, and most of all, for not being fucking honest. If they decided they were going to fuck then they could at least have had some goddamned human decency and told you about it so you didn’t have to find yourself involved in their bullshit.

You must have spent hours crying like that, curled up on your bed with your face buried in your pillow. No, this was your fault. It was you who had never done anything to deserve someone as amazing as Donghae. If only you’d been a better girlfriend. If only you weren’t so clingy. If only you weren’t so insensitive. If only you were prettier. If only you were more charming. If only you were more remarkable, Donghae wouldn’t have cheated on you. But you weren’t – you were just you. I’m plain, I’m boring, I’m dull, I’m just not worth it. Who cared if they hurt your feelings? Hell, who cared about your feelings? You should have been better. Swamped by similar negative thoughts, you began crying harder, just when you thought you were beginning to calm down.

When you finally raised your head from the pillow, your eyes blurry and raw and your throat hoarse, you saw that it was almost dinnertime. You weren’t hungry. You didn’t think food could ever be appetizing again.

Numb and weak, you sat up in bed. Your heart still felt like it was splintering in your chest, and the anguish of Donghae’s actions were as stark and potent as ever. You still wanted to cry, you still wanted to sob your heart out like you’d been doing for the past few hours, but your body wouldn’t produce any more tears.

Who cares about me? I’ve never deserved Donghae. Of course he’s tired of me and together with Hyukjae now. He should have someone better than me, anyway. Someone who isn’t as selfish. Someone who’s more fun. Someone who matches him. I’m not that person. It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.

Except. You sighed heavily, reaching up and rubbing your swollen, tear-streaked eyes. Except you knew that wasn’t true. You weren’t about to let such stupid negative thoughts get to you. It was never a woman’s fault that her boyfriend cheated on her. It was all on him. You knew that – you’d known it since you were young. It wasn’t your fault, none of this was. It was solely, completely, Donghae and Hyukjae’s for fooling you the way they had.

Or trying to, you thought bitterly. They were awful, awful liars. The worst you’d seen in your life, probably.  

Whatever else was true, it was clear that you weren’t going to let Donghae slide tonight. You were still helplessly in love with him – of course you were, otherwise this wouldn’t hurt as much – but even your feelings seemed like a child’s joke now. You’d given your heart to him willingly and he’d just spat back in your face. And you were angry.

It took another four hours for Donghae to get back. You sat on the couch the entire time with your elbows on the table in front of you, staring at the wall ahead and playing the words you wanted to say to him in your head. But when you heard the apartment code being put in, all your plans flew out the window. Nothing calculated was going to work here. You were just going to be upfront and say what came to mind, you decided, as you sat up and watched the door.

It swung open, revealing your cheating boyfriend, whose eyes immediately met yours. He froze slightly, probably not expecting you to be awake at this time. Usually you were in bed and dead to the world by now.

For your part, you had to fight back a scoff to see that Donghae’s hair was mussed and his lips were swollen. Once again, his collar was unbuttoned, barely halfway closed. Oh, he and Hyukjae had fucked recently? Right before Donghae was about to go home? For the love of fucking God, they were terrible at having a relationship in secret.

“What’s the matter?” The voice spoke from behind Donghae, and you very much recognized it; even before Donghae’s eyes widened, you knew who it was. This time, you had to bite the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from bursting into laughter. What the fuck was this? He’d even brought Hyukjae all the way to your shared apartment now? Just how incompetent of a cheater could Donghae be?

“I – I brought Hyukjae over, Y/N,” Donghae stammered. “We need… we’re going to talk about the… a scene in the MV.”

You stared at him, silent with disbelief at the flimsiness of his excuse. Not to mention, even a toddler would be able to tell that he was lying.

Looking slightly frazzled at the unexpected fact that you weren’t asleep yet, Hyukjae came into your line of sight behind Donghae. “Hey, Y/N,” he greeted. It would have been casual if not for the nervous tremble in his voice. “Sorry – this idiot told me you’d be asleep by now.” His eyes flickered uneasily to Donghae before focusing on you again. For his part, your boyfriend looked like he was trying to gather his composure.

“Should I go?” Hyukjae asked. “We can talk about the scene another time, Donghae.”

“Yeah, that would probably––”

“No,” you interrupted, lacing your fingers together in front of you on the stand. Both men’s gazes snapped to you – they were being so visibly jumpy that it was painful to watch. “I’m actually glad you’re here, Hyukjae. Come in.”

A little uncertain, they did as you said. No sooner had they taken off their shoes and come half a meter into the apartment did you speak, too disgusted at the sight of them to hold your tongue any longer.

“I heard you two are together.”

Donghae and Hyukjae froze. Their eyes widened, almost in unison. Even that was an infuriating sight, seeing evidence that apparently they were just so in sync that they did everything simultaneously, unintentional or not. Maybe this was what people called soulmates. It made you want to pick up the stand and hurl it at their faces.

They tried their excuses at the same time, stumbling over their words, even though they really needn’t have bothered; both of them had gone so pale that any further confirmation would be pointless.

Donghae stammered. “Wh-what are you––”

Hyukjae avoided your eyes like he’d get the Black Death if he met them. “Who said something like––”

“It’s up to your answer.” You were in no mood to listen to their pathetic attempts at feinting their way around you. “You can be honest – or you can lie to me. If you’re honest––” your voice strained as you went on from the effort of trying to choke back the ugly, venomous bitterness that was overflowing up from the very bottom of your heart, “––I’ll resent you both for the rest of my life.”

They were silent – the kind of cowed silence that was usually seen on irresponsible children being scolded by their parents.

“But if you lie,” you continued steadily, only the faintest tremble of your voice giving away any hint of your fury, “I’ll never forgive you.” If they lied to you, that would be the worst betrayal. The two of them – your precious boyfriend, whom you were hopelessly in love with, and his dear best friend, who’d always been so friendly and welcoming to you – had disregarded you, trampled over your feelings, humiliated you, deceived you, for long enough. Enough for an entire lifetime. The least, the very fucking minimum, that they could do now, was not lie.

“You decide what’s better for you two. That’s all you’ve been doing when it comes to me, anyway.” Making decisions for yourselves, for the sake of this relationship between you two, not bothering to think about me. Not bothering to even be honest. Your words hung in the air, unchallenged, undisputed, as the two of them stared hard down at the ground. They seemed unable to even turn their faces in your direction.

“I heard it started that day four months ago,” you said when they refused to speak, with calmness that was eerie to even yourself. Donghae and Hyukjae looked at you, their eyes wide with shock. You just wanted to laugh; there was, quite literally, nothing for them to be shocked about, not with their lying capabilities. Your voice shuddered with disgust as you went on. “The day I was alone in the apartment crying over what would happen to my father. The day you lied that you were with your members!” The last sentence ended as a scream. “I called you, Donghae, so many times because I was so scared, and you two were off fucking each other?” There was a scoff in your tone. You realized that your eyes had teared up, and that you were smiling – smiling at the utter hopelessness of the situation that had started four months ago. Smiling at the utter wreck that had become of your relationship with the man you’d been willing to give your everything for.

Donghae and Hyukjae looked away. They were looking at anything but you – at the wall, at the floor, at their feet, at the windows – anywhere but at you. You faintly wondered what exactly it was they saw when they did look in your direction.

It was like they’d gone temporarily mute. Donghae opened his mouth, still avoiding your gaze, and then closed it again. Hyukjae’s lower lip trembled, like he was about to start crying. If he did, you might just shove him – them both, in fact – off the balcony with your own two hands.

“Who told you this?” Donghae said finally, though it was so quiet that it might as well have been a whimper. Anyone could tell he really wasn’t curious. It was just an attempt to forget his guilt, to block out the accusation in your stare and the venom you were practically spitting at him and Hyukjae. You weren’t having it. He deserved every bit of that venom and then so much more.

“Answer.” Your voice was a whisper. “Am I right?”

They didn’t. They were frozen, staring at you with crippling guilt in their eyes.

“Am I?!” you shrieked.

Donghae shuddered. Took a breath. You could see the rise and fall of his shoulders as he sucked in the oxygen. His answer was practically just an exhale – short, strained, stricken, choked.

“Yes.”

Behind him, Hyukjae sagged.

For a long second, you just stared at them both, and they stared back, fear stark in their eyes. You took in the sight before you – your boyfriend and his best friend, who had fucked behind your back four months prior and had continued fucking behind your back since. Your boyfriend and his best friend, who had made the touching decision that they were going to get together and it didn’t matter that you were still involved with Donghae. Your boyfriend and his best friend, two pathetic cowards who didn’t even have the courage to let an uninvolved bystander extricate herself from their business. The fans had always thought they’d suited each other, you’d always thought they’d suited each other – and that was right. They did suit each other – very, very well.

You laughed. At first it was just two quiet, breathless heaves, escaping you as you looked away from them. A tear slipped down your cheek. You brought your folded hands in front of your face, your head slumping against them as you stared despondently at the table. Then the laughter came harder, evolving into quiet chuckling, and you hid your face in your hands as your shoulders shook with each tired chortle that slipped from your mouth.

It took you a few seconds to regain your composure. You raised your head and rubbed your hands together to dispel the wetness from your tears before you let them fall back on the table in front of you, facing Donghae and Hyukjae once again with a small, bitter smile. It wasn’t fake at all.

Sucking in a ragged breath, you studied the men in front of with perverse fascination, intrigued despite how viscerally repulsive you found the sight of them. “Just what the hell are you two?” you choked out disbelievingly, unable to keep the scorn from your tone.

“I’m so sorry,” Donghae whispered. You were silent. It was impossible to express in words how meaningless his apology was. Next to Donghae, Hyukjae’s head hung. You noticed that his fingers were entwined with your boyfriend’s, the two of them instinctively holding hands for comfort against the force of your rage.

“It must have been such a beautiful moment for the two of you,” you said quietly. You could practically picture it. One of them confessing, the other accepting it, both of them deciding that they were together now and declaring their love for each other. How sweet.

They both flinched.

“So? How did it go?” The smile you gave them was weak and mirthless. “Did Donghae confess first? Hyukjae? Did you hold hands and cry with joy that you both returned each other’s feelings?”

It was only then that Hyukjae finally seemed to regain his voice. The words came out feeble and shriveled, but they came out nonetheless. “It was me. I confessed first. It was backstage of a concert, right before we performed… the one we had the day before your father collapsed. I told him…” He trembled, his voice cracking for a second. “I told him I’d loved him since we first met.”

You stared wordlessly at the table.

“Then I knew,” Donghae burst out, like he’d been burning to say this forever but had kept hesitating until now. It must be satisfying for him, you thought. Finally being forthright with you after four months of lying. “I knew that I – I loved him too. It was like all my feelings came crashing down on me.”

So then, the next day, you left me in the apartment and was off fucking him when my father collapsed. Bitterly, wearily, you put it all together in your head. That’s what happened.

“Please… Please believe me, Y/N,” Donghae’s voice shook. “I did love you. I really did. You were everything I thought about when I thought about happiness. But then Hyukjae confessed to me, and I realized… it won’t work out between us. We aren’t meant to be.”

“I’m sorry.” Hyukjae sounded near tears. “This is my fault, Y/N. I shouldn’t have told him how I felt, but I couldn’t help it. Please… hate me. Don’t hate him. It’s me that got between the two of you.”

Your teeth clenched as white-hot heat flared up inside you. Really? That’s what they were apologizing about? No. No, they were talking like they’d wronged you, yes, but they just couldn’t help it because they were just so in love. And maybe that was true. And it hurt that you and Donghae’s relationship had crumbled so laughably – but that wasn’t why you were so revolted by them. It was because there was something they should be infinitely sorrier about.

“Who said anything about me and him?” you hissed, glaring at Donghae. He looked shocked at your callous words. It made you angrier. “You fucking idiots. You disgusting, pathetic, cowards – do you really think the problem is that you two are together?” You stood, knocking the stand in front of you over with the force of the movement. “No. You two are sobbing about how sorry you are for ruining my relationship – how about being sorry for, I don’t know, not telling me earlier? All you had to do – really, all you had to do was come to me four months ago and say, ‘I’m sorry Y/N, but we’re together now. There’s no place for you here anymore.’ That was it.” You wanted to smash a bowl against their faces and hear, feel, the glass shattering at the force of its impact with their skulls underneath the skin.

“You couldn’t do that? You couldn’t extend me that basic courtesy? You couldn’t just say it to my face so I could get out of your business? So I wouldn’t have to spend four fucking months wallowing because of your bullshit?!”

“I…” Donghae looked stricken at your words, like he’d never even considered that the worst thing he and Hyukjae had done to you was simply not having the very rudimental decency to tell you upfront. “I didn’t want to hurt you. But it looks like I – I hurt you anyway. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Y/N.”

You laughed again. It was still a short spurt, but this time, it came out shrill and incredulous, even as your body felt like sagging from weariness at just how ridiculous this was. Had you just heard him right? He didn’t want to hurt you? What a joke.

“No, this is because of me.” This time it was Hyukjae who spoke. “You can… you can hate me, Y/N. Shout at me, hit me, slander me. Tell the public that I’m a lying scumbag, if you want. Just… just leave Donghae out of it. Please.”

“No,” Donghae cut in, shaking his head desperately. “Don’t hurt Hyukjae, Y/N. This is all my fault. I should have stopped myself from doing this to you. You can do anything you want to me, so please… please don’t touch him.”

You clenched your fists, their pleas for you to leave the other alone filling you with ugly resentment. They really were so in love – even your eyes, you who didn’t want to see it, could pick it up easily. For a moment, you were tempted. You thought of all the things you could do to both of them. Screaming at them, punching them, kicking them – that was the least of it. If you wanted you could even spread information that might leave an inerasable stain on their images. You could ruin their careers if you got lucky, leave them humiliated and waist-high in scandal and unable to appear in public again.

But…

You weren’t going to do it.

You were smart enough to know that it would bring you no kind of satisfaction. You didn’t think anything you did to the two men in front of you would satisfy you. Even if they got on their knees in front of you and begged you to forgive them, even if Donghae ended it with Hyukjae to have you back, even if you somehow got some sort of sick revenge on the both of them, you wouldn’t feel better. You’d never feel better again. Exhaustion washed over you.

“Just leave me alone while I pack my things,” you said tiredly. “That’s the only thing you two can do for me.”

“P-pack your things?” Donghae stared at you. “Y/N, are you…?”

“I’m leaving.” There was no point in you being here any longer. You were returning to your home country, to the family you’d left behind, putting this rotten mess in the past for good. You would have laughed if you had the energy. You recalled arriving at this apartment three years ago, Donghae’s hand in yours as he smiled at you, your chest filled to the brim with anticipation and hope for the future. You thought you had countless long years with him by your side stretching ahead of you. You’d been so sure that he was the one; you’d been so sure that there was no one who could ever be better to you. And now here you were, about to pack up and leave because he’d cheated on you, kept you in the dark for fourth months, taken the adoration and love you’d offered him and thrown it back in your face. And yet, a traitorous part of your heart hoped that he would try to stop you. To convince you to stay with him. Something to show that he still, deep down in there somewhere, in any way possible, loved you.

But he didn’t.

Of course not, you thought, even as you could feel your heart splintering to pieces in your chest. Why would he? He has Hyukjae. They’re probably rejoicing. This is probably the perfect opportunity to get rid of me without feeling bad themselves.

Wordlessly, you walked past them and to the bedroom that you and Donghae shared. Refusing to look at the bed that you two had lain in together, the framed pictures that you two had taken together, the scattered sheets of music that you two had written together, the books on the shelf that you two had read together, you packed your things. The movement were almost mechanical; your clothes, your toothbrush, your hairbrush, your makeup, your phone – the essentials. You had no desire to take anything else. You wanted to leave this chapter of your life completely behind you. You wanted to forget that Lee Donghae had ever meant anything to you. And yet, the crushing, agonizing pressure in your chest told you that that would be impossible.

You loved him. The true love that you had wanted so fiercely since you were young. As you shoved the last of your items into your suitcase, everything settled around you. This was it. You were leaving him. He’d fallen in love with somebody else. They were happy together. And you – you were doomed to spend your entire life without him – crying over him, longing for him, hating him, resenting him, and yet still so irrevocably in love with him. That was your future.

And that entire time you were miserable, he’d be happy with Hyukjae. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It was cruel – and yet it was your reality that you had to live the rest of your life with. You wanted to cry, but your body would produce no more tears. You were entirely drained.

“Y/N, you can’t just go charging out there,” Hyukjae said as you emerged from the bedroom, your suitcase packed. “How will you get home?” Next to his friend – his boyfriend, Donghae nodded, worry and shame in his eyes. “Hyukjae’s right. At least make plans. I’ll pay for everything.” His offer rang hollowly in your ears. It would have been preferable if both of them just ignored you.

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied flatly. “You two have ever worried about me anyway.”

That shut them up. Not sparing them another glance, you left the apartment and made your way down the hallway and down the stairs. Once outside, you called a friend.

“Hello? Y/N-eonni?” The calm voice of Pandora’s leader on the other end of the line somehow seemed to ground you.

“Taeyeon,” you greeted her.

“Are you okay?”

Well, shit. You weren’t planning on sounding so obviously despondent, but clearly your feelings were harder to hide than you thought they’d be. Your chest ached as you thought of the entire life, the entire world, that you’d just left behind. A lump formed in your throat, and you had to choke past it painfully to speak. “…No.”

You and Taeyeon weren’t exactly the closest of companions, but she did like you and you did like her, and she was the kind of person you could see yourself hitting it off with extremely well were you not headed back home. You were close enough to be called friends, even though a few years ago you never thought you’d be able to label your relationship with Pandora’s leader as anything remotely similar to that. Since you had dated Donghae for a considerable amount of time, and she was a good friend of Super Junior’s, you’d met her and gotten closer to her.

“Why’s that?” That was part of what you liked about Taeyeon. Despite her obviously being able to tell that you were down in the dumps, she didn’t treat you differently like you had become some wounded animal that needed careful handling. She sounded sympathetic, but not cautious or afraid of poking somewhere too painful.

“I broke up with Donghae.”

Without giving her the details, you explained that you’d parted with your boyfriend and needed a place to stay until you could make your plans to leave Korea. She accepted and invited you to live in her apartment for the time you needed.

You remained at Taeyeon’s place for about a week, getting everything together in preparation for your flight back home. You had no money, since you’d given up your financial independence like a goddamn fool when you’d fallen for Donghae, but Taeyeon had you covered. She insisted that you didn’t have to pay her back, but you insisted even harder, not being the type of person to like being in any kind of debt, even potential. So you two agreed that you’d pay her back within a month of your flight back home.

It was only until you were on the plane and sailing over the ocean that it all crashed down on you once again. Your head pounding and your throat tightening, you tried to muffle your intense sobbing as to not disturb the passengers near you, although the bewildered, annoyed, and worried stares that bored into your skin the entire way was more than enough to let you know that you hadn’t exactly succeeded in that regard.

When you got back home, your family gave you a warm welcome back. Having them with you again made you smile genuinely, but the pain was far worse than any joy you could feel.

You got a place back at your old job and threw yourself into work. It did feel good to be in control of your own income again, even if you had to start from the bottom after three years of absence, but that satisfaction was completely engulfed by how heartsick you felt. When you had time you found yourself staring listlessly at the ceiling or the wall, sometimes bursting into tears as you curled up in your bed or on the sofa, your chest feeling like it was going to split right down the middle one day soon. You couldn’t stop thinking of Donghae constantly – in fact, he was probably the one topic that occupied your mind the most. How was he? Did he miss you, like you missed him? No – of course he didn’t. He had Hyukjae, and evidently Hyukjae had mattered more to him than you ever had. Did he even bother to think of you, even occasionally? Even just once since you’d left?

You couldn’t even find any respite in your dreams. You’d often struggle your way to consciousness before the sun was up, your eyes wet with tears and the blunt, crushing pain in your chest pressing down on you, making it hard to breathe. You’d have dreams about the days that you and Donghae had spent together when the two of you were each other’s world, dreams of him lifting you in his arms and spinning you around, dreams of him embracing you and holding you to his chest, dreams of him kissing you. You’d even have dreams as mundane as walking through a bustling street with his hand in yours, your steps perfectly synchronized. Sometimes, if the universe was feeling particularly cruel, you’d have dreams of him and Hyukjae, happily, contentedly, in love.

And you tried. You really tried to smile through it all, but deep down inside, you could feel the sense of desperation choking you. This was how you would live from now on, for the rest of your life. Longing for a man who’d discarded you like trash. You’d spend your days wallowing in your misery, unable to forget Lee Donghae.

Sitting on the couch of your apartment, you found the tears overwhelming you again. You tried to swallow them, to push them back, to bury them and tell yourself that crying was no use, that you were fine, that you’d be fine – but it was all pointless. A tear slipped down your cheek, and your fragile defenses completely broke. You sobbed, burying your fingers in your hair as your cries shook your entire body, drowning out all other thoughts. This was it. This was the life you’d have to live. In constant pain, crying your soul out for a man who’d betrayed you and found happiness with someone else after it. He might have cheated on you, but you’d truly loved him. You’d truly loved him, and true love didn’t go away. It never faded, it never got better, no matter how much time passed.

You were doomed to this until you died.

But then something changed. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but you could tell something was different. Your thoughts were still constantly occupied with Donghae, but there was a little bit less agony that seized your body when you thought of him, a little less resentment and a little less bitterness. He still made you cry, and you still hated how he was undoubtedly happy without you, but the pain and betrayal you felt towards him – towards both him and Hyukjae – was just slightly less. You brushed it off, because surely, you thought – surely, it’d come back soon, stronger than ever.

But it didn’t.

It only got lesser and lesser as time passed. That lump of ferocious, acrid emotion that had lodged itself in your chest since you’d found out about Donghae’s infidelity and had only been growing for all those months began to shrivel inside you. At first it was just subtle things; your tears took a little less time to come when you thought about him, or there’d be tiny little increments of the day when you forgot he’d ever been anything more than just a celebrity to you. The changes were so small that you didn’t even notice them.

But then kept getting more and more drastic. Once, you came across a Super Junior D&E video on your YouTube recommended, and the thumbnail was Donghae and Eunhyuk. As your gaze settled on them and recognition flared inside you, you braced yourself for the rush of anger and sadness that was sure to come. But it never did. Another time, you found yourself mindlessly thinking back to the time you’d broken up with Donghae, when you’d confronted him and Hyukjae about their relationship. It took you a good few minutes to realize that you could hardly feel anything in you when you pictured that day again. You should be feeling all kinds of negative emotions, you should be starting to tear up again, but you weren’t. Your dreams dwindled, too. You slept better, fuller, longer, and no longer woke up feeling like you were about to start crying. You woke up feeling rested and content and ready for the day ahead of you.

Often, you had to consciously remind yourself to think about Donghae. You had to remind yourself to feel sadness when he came up in your mind. The love of your life, the man who gave everything you offered him and spat it back in your face, you reminded yourself, and yet the overflowing misery and resentment and pain you thought you’d feel forever when you thought of him just wouldn’t well up inside of you. That’s when you began to wonder. It crept into your mind, gradually, surreptitiously, like some snake sneaking up on a mouse.

What if I didn’t…

No. No, you told yourself.

So you actively began clinging to misery, to resentment. I’m sad and I’m angry at what Donghae and Hyukjae did to me, you told yourself. I am. I have to be. You deliberately thought about the two men, you deliberately made yourself relive what they’d put you through, in an attempt to make that same awful pain of betrayal and heartbreak stick with you. You tried to tell yourself that you loved Donghae, that you truly loved him, and that you were never getting over this. Over him. You were bitter, you were angry, you were heartbroken. You were.

The alternative was… too sad.

But by the sixth month of your parting with Donghae, you couldn’t try any longer.

You sat on your couch, on the same spot that you’d spent so many hours curled up and crying thinking about him. You weren’t crying now, you weren’t even close to crying now, but there was a certain heaviness to your heart.

In one last-ditch attempt, you took yourself back in time. “Yes,” Donghae said, in response to your question. Yes, he and Hyukjae were together. Yes, he and Hyukjae were in love. Yes, he no longer loved you. Yes, this was the man you’d given up your entire world for, telling you to your face – yes, he had betrayed everything you freely offered to him: your trust, your belief, your love, your heart––

Cry, you told yourself. Cry, Y/N.

But you didn’t. You couldn’t.

Resigned to your reality, you stared at the stand in front of your couch. I’m sorry, Donghae, you thought. This was the undeniable truth, the ridiculous, dejecting outcome of it all. You thought of how Donghae had betrayed you, you thought of how Donghae had lied to you, you thought of how Donghae had tossed you aside for someone else, you thought about how Donghae was happy with Hyukjae. And you just…

You didn’t care.

You’d tried, but it was impossible. You couldn’t make yourself care.

There was nothing for you to do but accept the truth you’d come to realize about yourself. You’d gotten bored of being heartbroken over Donghae. You’d gotten bored of Donghae.

For months you’d tried to deny it – you’d tried to deny what was only becoming clearer to you. You were recovering from what he’d done to you, you were getting over him – forgetting him. The thought of him did nothing to you anymore.

You’d thought – no, you’d sincerely believed – that you loved him. That it was your true love that you’d felt towards him, whatever it had been that he felt towards you. That true love that a person never recovered from, that true love that never died down no matter how many long, trying years passed.

But it had. It had died down. Whatever you’d felt for Donghae, it was gone. And it hadn’t even taken years. It hadn’t even taken a single year.

Did I even really love you?

Silent, you folded your hands on your lap. Your apartment seemed to have wilted with your admittance of the truth.

No. You hadn’t.

You once thought there was nothing that could be sadder than what happened to you six months ago. Nothing could be sadder than parting from the love of your life in the way you had. But you knew better now. This was it. There was nothing that could possibly be sadder than this.

You’d believed, without a shadow of a doubt, that you loved Donghae. You’d definitely loved him so much, so fervently, so fiercely, that you were willing to give him your world, you were willing to give him your everything. You called him your everything – your sky, your stars, your sun, your moon, your blood, and your oxygen. But in the end, it was nothing but the passing of time that saw it all crumbling to pieces. You no longer cared about Donghae, you no longer cared about what he and Hyukjae had done to you – simply because you’d gotten bored of caring. This was the man you thought you could have died for, and in the end, you walked away because you were bored of him.

There was nothing else to it. It wasn’t because of some self-enlightened realization that you were better off without him, it wasn’t because you’d found someone else who was so much better than he was, it wasn’t because you’d decided that he wasn’t worth your sadness after he’d cheated on you, it wasn’t because of some life-changing epiphany that you’d experienced. No, it was solely, completely, and only because you were bored of him. It was just that easy for Donghae to lose all meaning to you.

That was sadder than anything else in the world.

You opened the gallery on your phone. It was still full of pictures that you and Donghae had taken together. Numbly, almost mechanically, you went through and deleted every single one until just one more remained. At it, you paused. It was a selfie that you and him had taken together within the first year of your relationship. You studied Donghae’s handsome face, tracing your eyes over every contour of his skin – but nothing stirred inside you. You remembered how you felt taking this photo. You had been on cloud nine, giddy and ecstatic that you were dating Lee Donghae, and completely convinced that you were in love with him, totally and undeniably.

And yet, here you were, faced with the undeniable reality that all it had taken was time for him to become nothing to you. You hadn’t even had to try.

“I’m sorry, Donghae,” you said quietly. And you were. Sorry that you and he had wasted three years of your lives, mistaking whatever you’d felt towards each other as love. Sorry that you and he had ever bothered with each other when the both of you could have spent that time doing something so much more meaningful. Sorry that those three years that the two of you had spent together now meant nothing to anyone – not to him, and not to you.

“We were a pretty good couple,” you told the photo, toneless. Apathetic. “That’s reason enough.”

It would have to be reason enough; otherwise, the three years you and Donghae had been together would really and truly be meaningless.

The words hung in the air, tragic and dull but undeniably true. It was sad. You thought you’d loved him with every ounce, every atom, of your entire being, so much that you felt like you would burn up with the force of it, but in the end, all you could sincerely say was that the two of you had been pretty alright. That was all the two of you together and all the times you’d spent by each other’s sides amounted to. Pretty alright.

You deleted the photo.

~

“And you, Y/N, and your team are assigned to Super Junior.”

Well, fuck.

Four years after you returned to your country, your company had risen and grown until it encompassed a significant portion of the world’s fashion business – and you had risen and grown right alongside it. You were the leader of a team of stylists and designers whose entire focus was to delve into and become involved with the kpop industry. You weren’t exactly famous, but you’d become quite well-known around your area of business in your own right, which was a weird thought that you tried your best not to dwell on.

And now your team was assigned to work with Super Junior. You weren’t against it – you recognized what a big opportunity this was for you, your team, and your company, and you knew how to remain professional. But the odds of the situation were certainly worth a little amusement.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Mingyu, your older brother, asked you when he heard the news. “I don’t know how that bastard hurt you, but you were a wreck after you came back, Y/N.”

“Stop it,” you chided, hitting him lightly on the head. “Don’t call Donghae that. You shouldn’t be holding grudges when even I already forgot what happened between us. I’ll be fine.”

A few weeks later, you walked into the meeting room with your team behind you to be introduced to Super Junior. Rin looked calm and collected as she always was, her black hair tied neatly behind her and her gaze steady. Joohyun had been alternating between nervous silence and nervous jitters, but she seemed to have gotten a grip of herself, her head held high and her eyes sharp. Sejin was taking a deep breath, but otherwise, she was composed. Kaito looked faintly terrified – he was the youngest, newest, and least experienced on the team, after all – but otherwise, he looked like he knew what he was doing.

“I’m L/N Y/N,” you greeted Super Junior, ignoring the recognition and then the shock on their faces as you bowed deeply. “I hope we’ll get along well. Please don’t hesitate to approach me or anyone in my team if you think there’s something about your styling and outfits that could be better.” As you talked, your gaze swept each one of them, seeing pretty much the same expressions of complete surprise – at least until you came to Donghae and Hyukjae, sitting next to each other at the meeting table.

They were absolutely paralyzed. There was no other way to describe it – it was like they’d been told the entire reality they lived in was a fabrication or something. You couldn’t really fault them for their reaction, but for everyone’s sake you hoped they got it together fast. There was a time and place for that shock, and now was not it.

Irritation flickered in you as you realized you’d probably have to speak to them separately if you wanted to avoid any unnecessary tension that would interfere with business. Keeping your face neutral, you let the other members of your team introduce themselves.

After introductions were finished, you and your team spent an hour discussing things with Super Junior. As you’d expected, they were all experienced enough to know not to bring up the many questions they undoubtedly had about your new position working with them, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t clearly see their curiosity.

Following the meeting, you decided that the sooner, the better.

“You guys go on ahead,” you told your team, “I have something to discuss with these gentlemen.”

Once you and Super Junior were alone, absolute awkwardness settled over all of the people in the room. You wondered if it was their first time being faced with one of their members’ exes. Finally, tired of the stuffy silence and annoyed with their apparent inability to say anything, you spoke first.

“I know this isn’t what any of us expected, but I’m sure all of you are aware that we’re here for business. It’ll be hard to stay professional if you guys keep remembering that I’m the ex of one of the members here––” You could have sworn Donghae and Hyukjae both flinched a little, and wondered if they’d told the others what exactly had happened four years ago, why you’d left so suddenly. “––so don’t think about that. You’re all my clients, nothing more. Let’s all get along and do our best. Okay?”

They all agreed, almost a little too eagerly. Looks like they’d been worried about how they were going to manage this situation. You were a little concerned, too, and you knew it’d be an experience, but you were confident that it wasn’t going to affect your professional performance. Whatever had happened between you and the members – especially a certain two – ended four years ago. It already felt like another lifetime. You were so different back then, naïve and full of ridiculous, idealistic dreams. You knew better now.

About a month later, Super Junior was preparing for their comeback, and it was the day of their costume fitting. Each team member had been assigned a certain few members to design clothes for and style, and it was just your luck that you got Donghae and Eunhyuk. You’d groaned a little when you saw that you got them, but there was nothing to be done about it, and you supposed it would give you an opportunity to talk with them. All the other members had become more natural around you except for those two, and you were pretty sure that the rest of Super Junior, as well as your team members, had noticed something was amiss. Not good.

You arrived at the SM building, the clothes you’d hand-designed for them and three cups of coffee at the ready. You remembered what flavors both of them liked, and hoped that they hadn’t changed.

When Donghae and Eunhyuk saw you waiting for them, they went the smallest bit pale. You waved them over, too impatient to let them gather themselves.

“Here,” you said briskly as you put each respective coffee in front of them on the table. “I hope you both still like the same flavors that you did four years ago.”

Donghae’s eyes flicked from the coffee, to Hyukjae, to you. “Y-yeah. We still do.” He sounded like a little kid, uncertain and shy, not knowing what to do. His boyfriend – were they still together? – didn’t seem to be faring much better.

“You two need to relax,” you scolded, but you knew just the words weren’t going to do much. If you wanted them to feel comfortable around you – and you did, an appropriately comfortable relationship was important for good professional partnerships – you’d have to ease them into it. Talk to them. You weren’t going to get rid of the tension between the three of you any other way.

“How are you guys?” you asked. “Are you still together?”

Both men looked up at you, wariness in their eyes. You wanted to sigh, but instead you took a sip of your coffee before looking at them again. “It’s not a trick question, you know. I’m curious.” And you kind of were; the sort of fairly apathetic curiosity that motivated you to ask, but most of the time it wasn’t something that you really gave any thought to.

“We are.” Hyukjae’s reply was cautious. There was a hint of shame in his voice that you thought was unnecessary.

“That’s good,” you said, genuinely. They, at the very least, seemed to have really, sincerely, loved each other, if your memory served you right – which was more than what could be said about you and Donghae. It would be sad to hear that a couple that cared so much about each other ended up breaking up eventually, too.

Both of them flinched again, as if they’d somehow wronged you by staying together. You rolled your eyes.

“You don’t need to feel sorry,” you told them, ignoring the surprise on their faces that their feelings had been picked up. You had been in your business long enough to be pretty good at reading people.

“How can we not be?” Hyukjae asked softly. “You probably still hate us. It feels wrong to flaunt it in front of you.”

Pursing your lips in surprise at his belief that you still hated them, you eyed the two of them with mild amusement. “Don’t worry about that.”

Confusion filled Hyukjae’s eyes. “But… don’t you hate that we’re together? Don’t you hate us? After what…” he faltered, hesitant to bring the past up. “… after what we did to you?”

You glanced down at your coffee briefly, wondering how to articulate how exactly you felt about Donghae and Hyukjae being a thing and how exactly you felt about Donghae and Hyukjae. Mild congratulations for their relationship and mild fondness for them, maybe, but other than that, nothing.

“No, I don’t really have any thoughts about it,” you replied truthfully, looking back up at them. It had been over three years, nearly four, since you’d cared about or given much consideration to Donghae and Hyukjae. You knew they were together, but it was never something that had held your consideration for more than a few seconds. In fact, you hadn’t given it enough thought to even realize before now that it wasn’t something you particularly cared about.

“How have you been, Y/N?” This time it was Donghae – the first time he’d asked you a question. He looked somewhat afraid to hear your answer, like you were going to tell him something harsh. Well, you thought idly, Donghae always did worry a lot.

“I’ve been fine, I guess,” you said. “Actually, I’ve been good.” And you had. You’d changed a lot in the four years it had been since you saw Donghae and Hyukjae, but it was all for the better. You were more self-assured, more level-headed, more willing to take the initiative, and you’d abandoned your fanciful notions of romance and love. For that last part, you had the two men sitting in front of you to thank.

“That’s… that’s good.” He seemed to be grappling with something before he added uncertainly, “But it’s not exactly what I meant.”

Taking another sip of your coffee, you raised your eyebrow at him.

Seeing your beckoning look, he continued. “I might be overstepping my boundaries, but… after you left. What did you do?” Next to Donghae, Hyukjae was watching you with a twin expression of guilty curiosity as his boyfriend.

“Well, I went back home and got a place at my old job,” you began. Donghae had worded his question like he would be satisfied with just that answer – after all, that was pretty much the only significant thing you’d done when you arrived back home after breaking up with him – but you could tell that he was asking about more than that. Not just what you’d done after you got back home, but how you’d felt. You wondered briefly if it should make you angry that he and Hyukjae wanted to know how you’d felt – after all, they were the reason you’d been so miserable and had spent so much of your time just crying during the first few months of your arrival in your home country. But you weren’t angry at them. There wasn’t much that you felt towards the two men sitting across from you, except maybe still apologetic towards Donghae.

Speaking of which…

“Oh, there’s something I need to apologize to you for, Donghae.”

The two of them stared at you; you could practically see the question in their eyes. Something that you need to apologize to Donghae for?

But you did need to apologize to him for this. It was something you felt sincerely sorry about.

“When I first got back home,” you said, “I was torn up. I felt like I couldn’t breathe. I thought I wouldn’t be able to live the rest of my life without you.”

There was a flicker of something in Donghae’s eyes. If you put a name to it, you’d almost say it looked like hope, but what place did that have here? You must have been mistaken, even though your intuition was usually accurate. Hyukjae glanced furtively over at Donghae; you wondered if he’d seen that emotion, whatever it was, in his boyfriend’s gaze. It wasn’t really of concern, though, so you went on after another sip from your cup.

“But it didn’t take a long time until that all faded away. I was surprised, at first. I was so convinced that I’d never be able to get over you and what you did to me, but all it took was a few months before I didn’t care.” You didn’t know why you were being so candid with the two of them. You hadn’t been intending to tell them all this, but, now that you were here, you felt like you had to. You felt like it would be the last step in completely and ultimately leaving behind that chapter of your life. You had found your closure four years ago; now you needed to give Donghae and Hyukjae closure, too.

“I tried to be sad, you know,” you told them. “I tried to convince myself that I was angry, and heartbroken, and that I was never going to get over you, Donghae. But I guess I should have known better – just trying is never enough for anything, after all.”

You met their eyes, one at a time, slightly confused by what you saw there. Donghae looked a little shocked and dejected, and Hyukjae looked worried. Wondering if you were missing something, you went silent briefly, studying them. Before you could draw any conclusions, though, Donghae spoke.

“Then what happened?” he asked, his voice faint. “Why did you want to apologize to me, Y/N?”

“Nothing really happened,” you admitted. “It’s just… strange, Donghae. I was sure I loved you with all my heart. I was willing to give you my entire world – but all it took was a few months for me to become bored of missing you. To become bored of you. Accepting that I never really loved you was jarring.” Reminded of the quiet despondency that had surrounded that realization four years ago, you took one last sip of your coffee, finishing it off.

“I guess I want to say… I’m sorry that we wasted so much time on each other, Donghae. We could have both been doing more useful things while we were busy playing at being in love.” You smiled grimly at him. “I thought nothing could be more heartbreaking to me than the way we parted, but realizing that all it takes is a few months for the person I was confident that I was completely in love with to lose all meaning to me… there’s nothing more depressing than that.”

Donghae and Hyukjae were silent as you reminisced. It had been years since you thought of that despondency that had come over you when you realized you could no longer deny that what you’d felt for Donghae had never been love, but it was just as sad to feel now as it was back then.

“I… I see.” Donghae sounded strained. “It’s okay, Y/N. I was – I was happy with you for a long time.”

“If you think of it that way, I’m grateful.” You were sincerely glad that he was able to take the optimistic version of it. Standing, you gave both men a genuine smile.

“We were a pretty good couple, Donghae,” you said. “That was a good enough reason for our relationship. And I have a feeling that you two will make it through anything.”

“Thank you, Y/N,” Hyukjae murmured.

“I’m just being honest,” you assured him, satisfied that you’d been able to resolve the issue by clarifying to them that you didn’t care anymore about what had happened in the past between the three of you. “I’ll be waiting in the fitting room with your clothes. Take your time.”

As you walked off, Hyukjae put a hand on Donghae’s shoulder. “Are you… are you okay?” he asked his boyfriend worriedly.

Donghae shook his head, staring down at the table. “I’m not sure.” He really didn’t know how to feel, how to take this information. We were a pretty good couple, Donghae. For the nearly three years that he and you had spent together, thinking of each other as your entire worlds, to amount to nothing but we were a pretty good couple to you… he could tell you were being truthful, if your apathy as you talked about how you’d first felt after breaking up with him wasn’t indication enough.

Accepting that I never really loved you was jarring.

Donghae had always wondered if one day, you’d show up to get revenge for what he’d done to you. You weren’t that kind of person and he knew it, but after the way he’d hurt you, he wouldn’t have been surprised if you changed – if you’d become bitter and spiteful and wanted to see him ruined. He couldn’t have blamed you for that – for wanting to hurt him.

But this… it hurt more than anything he could have imagined. Your admission that it had taken you only months to stop caring about him – when he still wasn’t completely over you, even now. Your admission that you’d never really loved him – when, four years later, he was still in love with you and he still regretted that he couldn’t have convinced you to stay with him.

He supposed this was your revenge. The fact that it was unintentional, innocuous, that you weren’t even aware how much your words had burned, made it all the more painful.

I’m sorry we wasted so much time on each other, Donghae.

___

oppa: a term used by a female to refer to a male, older than her, that she is close to

sshi: a Korean honorific used when the speaker is relatively unfamiliar with the object of their words, usually regardless of age

sunbaenim: a term used by a junior to refer to a senior in the industry

___

She waved goodbye to Yesung-oppa as he got into the van. He responded in kind, a smile flashing across his handsome face before the door slid shut and his manager stepped on the gas. The car pulled away from the driveway, and Taeyeon watched it become smaller and smaller as the distance between it and the building grew.

Minus Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa, the rest of the present members of Super Junior had all left. Taeyeon had a habit of leaving shooting locations late; fitting for her admittedly control freak tendencies, she wanted to make sure everything was in order and the staff were comfortable as they wrapped up the set. It was common for her to leave at least an hour after everyone else, almost to the point that she felt uncomfortable when anyone was left after her.

Now, where were Heechul-oppa and Leeteuk-oppa? The former wasn’t the type to stay later like this, and the latter, though often taking a bit more time to leave, didn’t usually stick around so long, either. The last time Taeyeon had seen them, they’d been getting their makeup cleaned off by their stylists, as Taeyeon had earlier. Maybe they’d already left?

As Taeyeon trudged through the halls, she took advantage of the quiet and time alone to reflect on the filming that had gone on today. It was definitely something she would look back on fondly in the near future – awkward, yes, having to play the titular devil of Super Junior’s song and pinning Yesung-oppa against the hood of a car while whispering in his ear, but she’d become closer to her senior for it. She liked Yesung-oppa; he was patient, funny, professional, and good-natured – the type of person that fit right into the chaotic mess that was Super Junior.

She passed by some of the staff, starting to pack up their equipment, and smiled at them, wishing them a good night. Retracing her steps back to her now-empty dressing room, as she’d earlier told her own stylist Sohee that she could get off early (since her sister, Dakyung, who lived in Japan, was getting married and she had to catch a flight), Taeyeon opened the door and froze. Blinked. Not quite surprised at what she saw, per se, but definitely surprised that it was happening here of all places.

Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa were sprawled on the couch of the dressing room in a messy, uncoordinated tangle of limbs. Their bodies were pressed almost unnaturally close to each other, as if trying to meld into one being with all the desperation of burning lovers.

Because that was what they were. Lovers. Their clothes were strewn without rhyme and reason on the ground, expensive costumes scattered about the cold floor like they couldn’t possibly be of less consequence. Jungsoo-oppa was splayed on top of Heechul-oppa, the latter’s legs spread wide for the former, his head thrown back on the pillow in ecstasy and a cock drilling inside him, even as the two men’s gazes found her, still standing frozen at the doorway.

It took less than a second for a countless number of somethings to flash in Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa’s gazes – shock, mortification, shame, defiance, panic, and others that Taeyeon couldn’t identify or flickered too fast for her to comprehend. But glazed over it all, making their eyes glassy and their pupils dilate, was bliss, shining like a beacon in the two men’s eyes.

Bliss.

Bliss.

Heechul-oppa’s eyes slammed shut as he cried out, turning away from Taeyeon to bury his face in the crook between Jungsoo-oppa’s sweaty neck and shoulder. His entire body twitched and spasmed, and she didn’t need to see for herself to know that his insides were clenching around his lover’s cock. Riled by the other man’s orgasm, Jungsoo-oppa let out a sharp, choked moan, shuddering and seizing as the muscles of his pelvis visibly tensed to drive himself into the deepest point of his fellow member. Taeyeon didn’t need anyone to tell her what had happened then, either.

And she would be lying if she said she didn’t feel the area between her legs tingle slightly at the sight.

As Jungsoo-oppa collapsed on top of Heechul-oppa, both men heaving as they caught their breath and turned identical stares full of an odd mixture of chagrin and hazy desire at her, she inhaled deeply, not quite certain what she was supposed to do in this situation.

“Taeyeon-sshi?” The voice of the director rang from around the corner. Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa tensed considerably, and Taeyeon practically saw their instinct to jump apart from each other and hide, but that would expose both of them to her eyes completely, and that, well – she could see why it was embarrassing and made them slow to act.

Fortunately for them, she wasn’t. She slipped into the room and closed the door behind her, grimacing at the awkward realization that she was about to be alone with two naked men who happened to be two of her closest friends. It wasn’t like she was completely averse to it, because, if she was being honest with herself, she had become attracted to both of them, and she was almost certain that they had both become attracted to her, too. The little glances that flitted between them, the sparks that seemed to fly when their fingers accidentally brushed or their shoulders unintentionally bumped, the sudden and subtle awkwardness with which Jungsoo-oppa acted around her since last month, and the abrupt realization that Heechul-oppa had at some point two months ago begun staring at her with eyes a little too dark to be proper when looking at a friend – they all made words unnecessary.

But did she ever think she’d end up in this situation? No. Taeyeon wasn’t surprised at the fact in itself that Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa were also a little more than friends. It was just a little bit less than obvious to her, really, and it surprised her sometimes, how not many other people seemed to see it. The air between them was absolutely charged with tension. The way that they looked at each other – like they were looking at a person whom they were confident as being completely, utterly on their side – that said much more than just simple friends.

No, she wasn’t surprised that they were having sex.

But she was surprised that the first time she’d received visual confirmation of her suspicion, it was taking place in her dressing room, the possibility of being walked in on far too likely for anyone’s taste. Maybe that was part of what got them off, but were they stupid? Didn’t they get the risk of doing this here?

She glared at them as she flicked the lock of the door dismissively with her pinky finger. They met her gaze defiantly, although the shame flashing in their eyes told her that they thought she was glaring at the fact that they were having sex in itself, rather than the utter idiocy of the circumstances behind it.

“Taeyeon-sshi?” The voice was outside the door now. “Taeyeon-sshi, are you in there?”

Taeyeon pressed her index finger to her lips, looking pointedly at Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa. Maybe it was unnecessary, maybe it was only common sense to be quiet in a situation like this, but Taeyeon wasn’t sure how much trust she had left in their intelligence after they decided that fucking in her dressing room was a good idea. She pointedly ignored the vaguely offended expressions floating over their faces at her reminding them something that should be obvious.

But then again, so should the thought that maybe, just maybe, having sex with one of your members in a place where you could be seen was not – just might not be – a good idea.

The three of them remained completely silent until they heard footsteps walking away from the door and down the hall. Taeyeon pressed her ear carefully against the wood, listening to the sound of the producer moving further and further away until she could no longer hear him at all. Then she turned back to the two men, her eyes saying everything she needed to say.

Jungsoo-oppa spoke first. He seemed unsure of what to do; not willing to get off Heechul and flash her with their completely naked bodies, but also not exactly pleased in this compromising situation. The awkward tense of both their muscles let her know that they were both trying hard to prevent certain fluids from staining the furniture.  

“Thanks,” he muttered, his voice raw from all the moaning and groaning that he and Heechul had no doubt been up to. “For that save.”

Heechul-oppa, by far the more shameless of the two, was staring patronizingly right back at Taeyeon, refusing to look away. Still, she knew him well enough by now to know he was embarrassed, just much better at hiding it than Jungsoo-oppa, whose expression was growing more awkward and conflicted by the second.

“I wouldn’t have had to save you if you two weren’t stupider than I can express in words,” Taeyeon said bluntly, deliberately refusing to let her eyes trail down their naked bodies. Those muscled arms, those chiseled backs, those toned legs – she wouldn’t look at them, not without permission. But she wasn’t going to look away from their faces either; the two men were far from off the hook. Their fucking, as passionate and enjoyable as it had seemed from that glimpse she’d gotten, had not impressed her in the slightest with its utter absence of discretion.

After a music video shoot, no less! How could they be so careless?

“You aren’t wrong…” Jungsoo-oppa muttered. At least he had the decency to admit it – Heechul-oppa just stared. Taeyeon met his dark brown eyes, not challengingly, but confidently, letting him know that she wasn’t going to cave until he gave some sign of the shame that she knew he was feeling.

She blinked as the sudden observation that it wasn’t with brazenness that Heechul-oppa was looking at her, not anymore, sunk in. But it wasn’t the first time she’d seen that glint in his gaze before. The opaqueness of his eyes, the hunger in them, as they slid down her body appreciatively, was something she was very familiar with.

She was still in the snug red dress she had been assigned to wear for the last scene they shot today.

A pleasant prickling sensation traveling up her spine at the realization of how little her attire left to the imagination, Taeyeon’s eyes flitted to Jungsoo-oppa. He was staring, too. The desire with which he looked at her wasn’t as overt and shamelessly blatant as the desire with which Heechul-oppa did, but it was definitely there. Just better hidden because Jungsoo-oppa was actually bothering to try to conceal it. But the way his teeth sank almost thoughtfully into his lower lip, the uncharacteristically heated gleam in his eyes, the rise and fall of his chest as he inhaled deeply told her more than words could say.

“We’re going now,” Heechul-oppa declared huskily. He was not looking at her eyes as he made his statement, deliberately, for her viewing pleasure, letting his gaze fall… lower. “Get off me, Jungsoo.”

Jungsoo-oppa glanced at his lover, then back at Taeyeon, then back at his lover, uncertainty merging with the lust in his eyes to form a very odd mixture. Still, Taeyeon couldn’t deny how absolutely hot he looked – how absolutely hot they both looked. She shifted, pressing her thighs together to relieve the pressure gathering between them. Heechul-oppa’s eyes glinted; he had noticed, and she was not complaining that he had.

The self-proclaimed Universe Superstar turned his gaze to Jungsoo. “Come on, get off,” he said. “I’m sure Taeyeon didn’t appreciate the sight of us fucking in her dressing room. Let’s go.” His eyes darted toward her again, as if to ask, Did you?

“Hold on.”

Her order had both men diverting their full attention to her. Heechul-oppa looked like a cat that had gotten the cream; Jungsoo-oppa looked shocked. “Pardon?” His voice was soft.

“I appreciated the sight very much,” Taeyeon admitted quietly, but not shyly. “Enough to want to keep watching, actually.”

The chuckle that left Heechul-oppa’s mouth was dark with promise. “I always knew you were a freak, Taeyeon.”

She shrugged. “Between the two of us, you’re the bigger freak, I bet.” Only then did she realize, concerned, that the other member of Super Junior was not responding. Heechul-oppa seemed more than willing, not that she was surprised, but this wasn’t going to happen if any one of the three of them had any objections. “Jungsoo-oppa…”

Her voice calling his name seemed to startle Super Junior’s leader, because he blinked, expression morphing into faint disbelief as he met her gaze, almost in a daze. “You want to watch us… have sex?” he asked, tentatively, as if speaking the very words was a risk that might send her running. It was cute, honestly. Jungsoo-oppa was cute, even though he was ten years older than her. It might not have been appropriate for the situation, but Taeyeon felt her heart swell slightly with a feeling of affection for the man.

Below his lover, Heechul-oppa rolled his eyes so hard that she was afraid briefly they would get stuck at the back of his skull.

“Yeah,” she answered, “I do. I want to watch you two have sex, and maybe… a little more than that.”

“So you’re proposing voyeurism and now a threesome?” Heechul-oppa summed up for her, his voice lilting with sensual approval. “You really are deep into that stuff, aren’t you?”

Taeyeon didn’t bother replying. He already knew the answer. She kept her eyes on Jungsoo-oppa, who had been silent during the entire exchange, his face growing increasingly surprised by the direction their conversation was going.

“Jungsoo-oppa, is that okay with you?” She addressed Super Junior’s leader carefully, studying his expression. So far, all she could detect was faint bewilderment of the entire situation. Maybe he hadn’t expected her to be so unsurprised by his liaison with Heechul-oppa, much less her willingness to watch and participate rather than trying to dissuade their relationship.

Well, Taeyeon had no interest in doing that. Whatever was between Super Junior’s eldest members was between them, and she really didn’t care what it was. They could be in love or they could be fuck buddies, it was no matter to her. All she knew was that they were both attracted to her, she was attracted to both of them, so if all of them were willing, why not give it a shot?

“Is your place open, Taeyeon?”

Jungsoo-oppa’s forward question caught Taeyeon off guard. Not bothering to hide her surprise, she arched her eyebrows and met the leader’s eyes pointedly. To her delight, there was no sign of unwillingness in Jungsoo-oppa’s gaze. In fact, she noted darkly, it wasn’t that he wasn’t unwilling, it was that he was eager. His pupils had darkened over, his tongue absentmindedly darting out to swipe over his lower lip as he blatantly eyed her body.  

Smirking triumphantly, Taeyeon snapped her fingers in front of her face. “Eyes up here,” she ordered, and Jungsoo-oppa complied immediately, their gazes locking. His obedience sent a shiver of delight up Taeyeon’s spine, imagining all the possibilities of what she could do with it later. But he’d also seemed to enjoy being assertive, if the way he’d been thrusting into Heechul-oppa just minutes prior was any indication. She could make good use of that, too…

“It’s open,” she confirmed, and she didn’t miss the anticipation flashing in his gaze, the deepening of his breath at the things that the three of them could get up to in the privacy of her apartment. Heechul-oppa saw it, too. He laughed breathlessly, running a sultry hand down his fellow member’s bare arm and eliciting a subtle shiver from him. “God, you’re such a slut, Jungsoo.”

“So are you,” came the leader’s soft, throaty reply. “The way you moan when I fuck you says everything that’s needed.”

Heechul-oppa glared, but there was no heat behind it. Taeyeon smiled, amused despite herself; their dynamic hadn’t changed, even with their sexual relationship, and frankly, she wasn’t surprised. She didn’t know of the two men were aware of it, but it was blatant just how much more than physical partners they were to each other. They were still up to the same senseless shenanigans that they always were, the senseless shenanigans that she found charming in both of them.

“Just so you know,” she piped up, changing the subject in favor of giving them a brief scolding – because really, they deserved it. “If you two ever decide that fucking on a music video set location is a good idea again, I won’t bother with saving you twice.”

“We get it, we get it,” Heechul-oppa grumbled, rolling his eyes. He pushed against Jungsoo-oppa’s shoulder impatiently, demanding that the other man get off him.

To Taeyeon’s surprise, the leader didn’t hesitate. If he had had qualms about being naked in front of her before, he didn’t now. He slowly shifted off of Heechul-oppa’s body and stood, leaving them both completely bare before her eyes. Taeyeon’s breath hitched as she drank in the sight of them unashamedly; their long, toned limbs, their graceful, pale throats, their sturdily muscled abdominals, and of course – the deep v shapes that tapered down into their cocks. She licked her lips absentmindedly at the sight, not bothering to hide the surge of desire that arched through her veins.

They were absolutely gorgeous, she thought appreciatively. Watching them fuck each other – it would be a sight to behold, she was sure.

But for now, they had to get off the set location and to the privacy of her apartment. The two men were clearly thinking the same, for they began picking up their clothes from off the ground where they had been so carelessly discarded. Taeyeon helped silently, although on the inside she was still a little bit annoyed at the carelessness they had displayed.

About the pulsing between her legs that was refusing to abate, she said nothing. But from the half-lidded, furtive glances that she, Jungsoo-oppa, and Heechul-oppa shared between each other, it was no secret to any of them.

~

After the two men had gotten dressed and they’d all undergone the long process of makeup removal, impatiently trying to suppress the tingling in their bodies in the climbing of their heart rates, the three of them had bid the remaining staff goodbye and made their way to Taeyeon’s apartment. The car ride had been full of whispered, salacious comments, mischievous touches, lips brushing against skin and fingers seeking sensitive places.

But they were finally in the privacy of her home, and all restraints were torn apart. Heechul-oppa had barely closed the door behind them when Jungsoo-oppa grabbed her wrist and spun her around to face him, molding their mouths together with an aggressiveness that she hadn’t expected from such a sweet man. His tongue swept along the seam of her lips, barely giving her time to part them before sliding into her mouth and making contact with hers. Taeyeon moaned, clasping her hands against the nape of his neck and pulling him closer to her. Her entire body was on fire, her nerves thrumming, her skin prickling, her heartbeat thudding. And when she felt Heechul-oppa press against her from behind, grinding his hardening cock against her backside through the suddenly too-stuffy fabric of their clothes, electricity arced through her entire body. She shuddered.

Jungsoo-oppa broke their frenzied mash of lips to trail lower, kissing and sucking his way down her jaw and to the arch of her throat, while Heechul-oppa nipped her earlobe, one of his hands snaking up to her breast and pressing at the nipple through the layers of fabric. Taeyeon gasped, her head falling back against Heechul-oppa’s shoulder as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Stop,” she panted out, taking Jungsoo-oppa’s face in her hands and pulling him back up to his full height. Behind her, Heechul-oppa released her earlobe and brought his hand back to himself. “What’s the matter?” he asked, a thrill traveling up her spine at the sound of his hoarse voice so close against the sensitive flesh of her ear. He sounded incredibly sexy, but it was tampered with a tint of concern. “Do you want to stop?”

“No,” she replied quickly. Why would she want to stop? Never. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is?” This time it was Jungsoo-oppa who spoke, gazing at her attentively. It warmed Taeyeon’s heart to see the sincerity in his eyes, the worry in Heechul-oppa’s voice. In that moment, she trusted them completely to take care of her.

Reaching back, she gently palmed Heechul-oppa’s cock. He hissed sharply, probably not expecting the bold move after she’d made them halt their own ministrations on her. Giving Jungsoo-oppa one more quick but heated kiss and then pulling away, Taeyeon turned to face the other man, younger by nine days, and tugged demandingly at the hem of the T-shirt he wore.

Understanding dawned in his eyes, and he pulled the article of clothing off to reveal his pale, well-muscled upper body. Not wasting a second, Taeyeon ran her arms over the newly revealed flesh, her hands sweeping over his chest and abdominals and eliciting a shaky breath from him. It would have been fun, watching him unravel further beneath her touch, but she was too impatient to wait.

“Lay down on the sofa, oppa,” Taeyeon ordered breathlessly, and was met with a raised eyebrow and a gaze full of curious anticipation. Behind her, Jungsoo-oppa softly laughed. “Listen to the lady, Heechul,” Super Junior’s leader commanded.

Shrugging, Heechul-oppa did, shuffling over to the sofa and laying down on the piece of furniture. He looked delectable, spread out before her like that, his bare chest heaving with his heavy breaths and his thick locks mussed and tousled.

Taking Jungsoo-oppa’s hand, Taeyeon led him to the sofa too. “You can watch if you want, Jungsoo-oppa,” she said. “Or join in. It doesn’t matter.”

“Alright.” The leader’s gaze was somehow both dark and burning at the same time, shifting between Taeyeon herself and Heechul, sprawled shirtless on the couch. He was enjoying this much more than she’d thought he would.

Smiling to herself, Taeyeon climbed onto the sofa, undid the button of Heechul-oppa’s jeans, and slid them off down his legs. A faint, almost indiscernible groan left the man as his cock received some freedom from the confines of his pants, although it was still buried under the fabric of the undergarments that he wore, forming a visible and growing tent. Taeyeon pressed the heel of her palm gently against the tip of the rising lump, and Heechul-oppa twisted, gasping. Beneath her hand, she could feel him hardening further.

It would have been lovely to tease him some more, but Taeyeon wanted to get right to it. She had been patient long enough, and there would be plenty of opportunities later to wear down both Heechul-oppa and Leeteuk-oppa until they were begging her to stop goading.

That sounded a like a wonderful night all on its own. But for another time.

Taeyeon wrapped her fingers around the waistband of Heechul-oppa’s boxers and pulled them down, flinging the undergarments somewhere behind her. She glanced over at Jungsoo-oppa to make sure he was having his fill as well, and those eyes, so saturated with blazing lust as they alternated between herself and his fellow member, assured her that he definitely was.

“Like I said, Jungsoo-oppa,” Taeyeon called, “you can join anytime you want.”

“Wow, I’m getting kind of scared,” Heechul-oppa commented sarcastically. His words were light, even mocking, but everything else was a blatant testament to just how turned on he was. His voice was breathless and strained, his pupils were wide and blown, his normally pale cheeks were flushed with a ruddy hue, his fingers digging into the material of her sofa as he tried to control himself. And of course, the most telling sign – his cock was hardening and glistening with pre-cum under the dim light.

“Don’t be,” was Taeyeon’s simple reply before she maneuvered her body so that she was facing that swelling member. Off to the side, Jungsoo-oppa inhaled sharply. Heechul-oppa propped himself onto his elbows to look at her, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Are you really––”

She took the head of his cock into her mouth, enclosing her lips around it and wasting no time in swiping the searing-hot skin gently with her tongue. Without waiting, she went lower, taking more and more of the blood-swollen organ into her hot cavern, meticulously swiping over its length and girth with her tongue until she her lips were closed almost around the base of Heechul-oppa’s cock.

Heechul-oppa was squirming, panting, moaning, and Taeyeon had to plant a firm hand on his inner thigh to stop his legs from closing around her head. The noises he was making were absolutely delectable – something that Taeyeon knew she’d never forget the sound of. Smug pride surged through her as Heechul-oppa pushed his hips toward her, his fingers tangling in her hair and harshly tugging.

“Holy shit – how – where did you – oh fuck – learn to do – fuck!”

It was a beautiful sight, seeing the self-proclaimed Universe Superstar lose his composure so… utterly. As Taeyeon continued her ministrations, he writhed, mewled, gasped and whimpered, his fingers twisting in her hair with each calculated suck and each mischievous lick. More than pleased at Heechul-oppa’s response, Taeyeon tightened her lips around the base of his cock and hummed softly. The man she was giving her attentions to moaned, loud and unabashed and wanton.

At that moment, Jungsoo-oppa shifted forward to the other end of the couch, where Heechul-oppa’s head lay on the arm of the piece of furniture, long, smooth neck twisting every-which-way in response to Taeyeon’s mouth. Leaning down, the leader captured his fellow member’s lips hotly, cupping Heechul-oppa’s face in his hands to guide their mouths against each other. The sight made Taeyeon’s hands on Heechul-oppa’s thighs tighten, her legs instinctually pressing against each other to alleviate the heat stirring to life between them. Breathing deeply through her nose, she kept her eyes firmly fixed on the erotic image before her, letting it spur her on as she worked Heechul-oppa diligently with her lips and tongue. It didn’t take much more to bring him to his end. His cock twitched a few times, his hands in her hair tightened, yanking desperately at her scalp, and he broke his kiss with Jungsoo-oppa to throw his head back on the pillow, his eyes screwed shut and those plump lips parted in an absolutely filthy moan. Inside her mouth, hot, viscous liquid spurted everywhere as he reached his high.

Taeyeon pulled back and wiped her mouth, careful not to let any of Heechul-oppa’s seed slip from her mouth. She had something particular that she wanted to show him – and Jungsoo-oppa, too.

Crawling up Heechul-oppa’s body, she straddled him, the fabric of her clothes just barely brushing against his softening member. Jungsoo-oppa glanced at her, and Heechul-oppa looked up too, his chest heaving as he recovered from his high. He studied her blearily, mind clearly still clouded and blurred with endorphins, but he’d always been a perceptive person. The slight narrowing of his eyes told her that he, even in his partially blissed-out state, sensed she was up to something playful.

But they widened again when she parted her lips to allow her own index finger into her mouth before drawing it out, revealing the digit smeared with Heechul-oppa’s fluids. Only then did she let her throat flex as she swallowed what was in her mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” Heechul-oppa gasped, closing his eyes again briefly as he processed what she had just done. His hands came up to grip her hips, fingers digging into her flesh through her clothes as he tried to regain his composure. No sooner had he managed to catch his breath that Taeyeon kissed him. She roughly melded her mouth against his lips, already swollen from his earlier kiss with Jungsoo-oppa, wrapping a hand softly around his throat and stroking the pulse point with her thumb.

Not wanting the other participant of their frolicking to feel left out, Taeyeon glanced at Jungsoo-oppa, who was watching them with intense interest, his eyes drinking in every detail of her kiss with Heechul-oppa, and raised her hand to beckon him closer. When he approached, she broke apart from Heechul-oppa and slotted her mouth against Jungsoo-oppa’s instead. He was very responsive – probably highly turned on since she’d suggested that the three of them share a night together – and enthusiastically returned her kiss, cupping her face in his hands to maximize the contact between their lips.

Underneath her, Heechul-oppa sat up, sweeping the neckline of her shirt and the strap of her bra to the side to reveal the flesh of her shoulder. He grazed his lips lightly over the exposed area, making Taeyeon shiver pleasurably at the sensation. And when his mouth trailed higher, placing hot, wet kisses along her skin as he went, she gasped, breaking her kiss with Jungsoo-oppa.

Heechul-oppa arrived at her ear, gently nipping at the lobe before running his tongue over the shell. It was almost ticklish, a feeling that Taeyeon normally despised, but right now, she would have been absolutely loathe to lose it.

The second-oldest member of Super Junior paused, his lips just barely brushing against her ear. “Your turn,” he whispered, and Taeyeon shuddered at the sound of his voice, so breathy and so hoarse, sounding right next to her.

“Jungsoo,” Heechul-oppa called, turning to look at the leader, who was observing the two of them intently with hunger in his gaze. “You think we should focus on Taeyeon now?”

The other man’s only response was a singular dip of his head, and somehow, that one gesture sent a thrill down Taeyeon’s spine. It was so… predatory, almost, so full of promise and intent that she could practically feel the excitement thrumming through her veins.

“This would be better to do on the bed,” Heechul-oppa said, tapping pointedly at Taeyeon’s thigh. Getting the hint, she got off of him, and he stood from the couch, completely naked and without the slightest hint of shame, his cock still glistening from minutes earlier. Jungsoo-oppa, too, rose to his feet from where he had been kneeling in front of the sofa. The tent pressing against his pants was obvious, and Taeyeon eyed it unashamedly.

She hurriedly led them to her bedroom, not in the mood to tease for the throbbing slickness between her legs. No sooner had she ushered the two men in and closed the door, Jungsoo-oppa was on Heechul-oppa, roughly pulling the other man against him into an ungentle, heated kiss. His mouth dominated his friend’s, forcing their lips against each other in a sloppy, wet tangle of tongue and teeth. It was a beautiful sight, one that Taeyeon wasn’t willing to miss a second of, even if it meant she kept her eyes open and didn’t blink for the entirety of it.

When they at last broke apart, both men were flushed and panting, their pretty eyes half-lidded and their long lashes fluttering. Taeyeon left them to it for a few seconds, despite the desire to be touched burning stronger every second – when else would she get to watch two attractive men, so obviously intimate on a level that was more than physical, do this?

Two men that were both her close friends. She knew this was conventionally wrong, she knew that society would frown upon it. And the unspoken stigma against the whole act was what made it even more thrilling.

Jungsoo-oppa turned his gaze, clouded over with desire, to her. “Sorry,” he said, his voice hoarse. “We’re being a little too selfish.” He held out his hand in her direction – a silent invitation – and Heechul-oppa looked at her too, the lustful haze in his eyes mirroring that of Jungsoo-oppa’s. And probably hers as well.

And as much as Taeyeon didn’t mind watching the two men make out for longer, the throbbing between her legs was almost painful at this point, and certainly not something she felt that she could ignore any longer. So she smiled and took Jungsoo-oppa’s offered hand, letting him lead her to her bed.

“Heechul,” Super Junior’s leader called to his friend. “Sit. With your back against the headboard.”

Heechul-oppa complied without protest, maneuvering himself onto the mattress and moving the pillow out of the way so he was comfortably seated with his back parallel to and pressing against the bed’s headboard, looking at Jungsoo-oppa quizzically all the while. He looked beautiful, his lean, pale body spread completely bare across her bed. It was a sight that Taeyeon was unashamed to brazenly savor, her eyes trailing intently over his flesh.

“Sit between his legs, Taeyeon,” Jungsoo-oppa murmured. “Facing away from him.”

A general idea of what the leader’s plan was materializing in Taeyeon’s mind, she had to stop herself from pinching Jungsoo-oppa’s cheek fondly to signal her approval. Instead, she did as he said, moving over Heechul-oppa. The self-proclaimed Universe Superstar spread his legs so she could settle between them, careful not to press against his exposed member in any way that could be potentially uncomfortable.

“I’m the only one naked here.” There was a fake pout in Heechul-oppa’s voice that made Taeyeon smile. “You two are so inconsiderate.”

“Don’t be so uptight.” Taeyeon rolled her eyes. “If I have any say in it – which I do – we’ll all be naked before this night ends.” That shut him up. Maybe Heechul-oppa… well, both Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa, really, hadn’t expected her to be so openminded about this. South Korea was firmly on the conservative end of the spectrum, and she doubted that many people would be looking upon their actions with too much kindness if they knew about them. (Not that that mattered. This was never going to get out.) But Taeyeon didn’t care for conventions; they were all willing, it felt good, she had contraceptives at the ready, and she was going to make strictly sure that both men wrapped their cocks before putting anything inside her.

“I’m looking forward to that,” Jungsoo-oppa commented, the roguish grin spread across his handsome face and the suggestive glint in his eyes giving his entire face an almost dark edge that Taeyeon was willing to bet the general public couldn’t imagine on such a kind and polite man. Unexpectedly, he pulled his shirt off, revealing a firm, toned upper body that had Taeyeon squirming against Heechul-oppa. Seeing his chest, his flat stomach, his long, muscled arms, only strengthened her desire to see the rest of him.

As if he was reading her mind – though really, all it required was some basic common sense – Jungsoo-oppa peeled off his jeans and underclothes in one quick movement, like he had been eagerly looking forward to doing just that. Taeyeon saw why; his cock sprung free from his clothes, still fairly limp but beginning to rapidly stand at attention.

The leader settled on the edge of the mattress, eyeing the two of them, and that was all Taeyeon had time to notice before Heechul-oppa’s hand snaked around to cup her left breast gently, his thumb brushing over her nipple and making her shiver and close her eyes, even through her clothes.

Without waiting, the second-oldest member of Super Junior gave her the same treatment she had given him earlier, pulling insistently at her sweater and the thin T-shirt she had on underneath. Wordlessly, Taeyeon gave in to him, raising her arms so he could pull the articles of clothing off and over her head, leaving her in only a bra and jeans. In front of them, she could feel Jungsoo-oppa’s searing gaze, taking in every detail.

Throwing her shirt and sweater somewhere to the side, Heechul-oppa wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him, placing his chin gently on her shoulder so their heated skin pressed against each other. The surprisingly intimate and non-sexual action made Taeyeon’s heart squirm unexpectedly in her chest. She let her head fall back against him, hearing Jungsoo-oppa shift forward until he was directly in front of her and pressing a sweet, open-mouthed kiss against her collarbone, the searing warmth of his body washing over her front. Shivering, Taeyeon reached up and carded her fingers through his hair, the tips of her digits brushing against his scalp. Jungsoo-oppa’s sigh of pleasure did not go unheard by her ears.

The leader of Super Junior moved gradually lower, kissing his way down her body, briefly stopping at her breasts to graze his lips over them, reaching behind to undo the hook of her bra and let it fall away. He continued his descent until he was low enough to hook his fingers around the strap of her jeans and pull, the denim slipping down her legs and baring her skin to both men’s gazes. When the jeans had come completely off, Jungsoo-oppa dropped them on the floor next to the bed. He positioned himself so he could push her legs apart with his hands and gently nip her inner thigh, making Taeyeon flinch from something other than discomfort. Instinct was telling her to press her legs together, to abate the insistent pulsing between them, but Jungsoo-oppa’s firm grip was in the way, leaving her wriggling her hips in an attempt to find some sort of friction.

The sharp smack against her thigh prompted her to stop her movement, understanding Jungsoo-oppa’s unspoken words. That didn’t mean she didn’t gasp, though, when Super Junior’s leader grasped the material of her panties in his hands and pulled down, exposing her throbbing core to his hungry gaze. Taeyeon shuddered as the cool air washed over her womanhood, and even more so when she saw that Jungsoo-oppa’s gaze was shamelessly drinking in every detail of her center, his eyes seeming almost black in the dim light. Or had they actually darkened?

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, and he didn’t give her the chance to respond before he dove in.

Taeyeon’s entire body jerked and a high-pitched moan tore from her lips as she felt Jungsoo-oppa’s mouth make contact with her core. Without preamble, he teased her folds apart and closed his lips around her throbbing, dampening clit, flicking his tongue expertly over its tip. Almost of their own free will, Taeyeon’s hands flew to his head, tangling in his hair and pulling as she instinctively tried to flinch away from the delicate assault. But Jungsoo-oppa wrapped his arms firmly around her legs, keeping her planted in place, and Heechul-oppa was behind her, preventing her from moving back – brushing his lips against the curve of her neck, she was vaguely aware. Groaning and whimpering, Taeyeon could only sit there and take the sparks originating at her core, where Jungsoo-oppa was deftly working, and spreading outward to roll over the rest of her nerves.

At her back, she felt something pressing against her rear, hot and hardening by the moment. If she weren’t so foggy-brained from Jungsoo-oppa’s ministrations, Taeyeon would have had the presence of mind to explicitly label it in her head as Heechul-oppa’s cock.

Instinct was telling her to close her legs, but the person in between them made that rather impossible, and Taeyeon couldn’t muster enough strength in her muscles to fight against Jungsoo-oppa’s hold on her lower limbs. She moaned and cried as Super Junior’s leader expertly slowed his pace and then sped it up again, playing with sensations to keep her on the edge and prevent his caresses from falling into any predictable sequence. A particularly well-placed flick of his tongue along the length of her clit made her twitch, her chest heaving as she fought for breath. Her dampness had soaked between her legs, only enhancing the pleasure that shot through her body with every contact of Jungsoo-oppa’s lips and tongue against her womanhood.

“Fuck,” she panted, twisting her fingers desperately in Jungsoo-oppa’s hair. “Jungsoo – holy shit – right there.”

He obeyed her dazed command, lapping again at that spot that had had her legs flexing and her chest heaving and her eyes rolling to the back of her head. Taeyeon keened, yanking sharply on his hair in the midst of her blissed stupor, but Jungsoo-oppa didn’t even falter. He continued his ministrations with devastating persistence and unfailing consistency, gently licking and sucking as Taeyeon writhed above him, her head thrown back on Heechul-oppa’s shoulder. Heechul-oppa, for his part, wrapped a hand lightly around her throat, his thumb deftly stroking her pulse point, a pleasurable sensation that made her nerves shudder. His manhood, still propped against her back end, was even harder, and she could feel it throbbing.

Jungsoo-oppa stopped, pulling his tongue back, although she could still feel his hot, heavy breath against her core. Whining in protest at the sudden and jarring lack of stimulation, Taeyeon opened her eyes and glanced down, only to come grinding to a halt with a hard swallow. Jungsoo-oppa, still between her legs, was looking up at her, and their eyes locked. His mouth and chin were smeared with glistening wetness. Her wetness, she realized, just as his tongue flicked over his lips, licking her essence from the smooth skin.

Holy fuck. Taeyeon had to rip her gaze away, or she might have ended right then and there. She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to piece her composure back together – but Jungsoo-oppa didn’t give her the chance. From the corner of her eye, she could have sworn he flashed a grin – that pure, dimpled grin that so many people associated with Super Junior’s angelic leader – and buried his face between her legs again. His mouth latched onto her core, and the sensation, amplified by her slickness, made Taeyeon yelp. The high-pitched shriek of surprise and pleasure quickly dwindled down to low, helpless mewls as Jungsoo-oppa’s efforts redoubled. His hands wrapped tighter around her thighs as they strained on instinct to close, keeping her pinned firmly on place. Between Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa, Taeyeon was completely powerless to do anything but take what was being given to her, to wriggle and moan as Jungsoo-oppa ravished her core expertly with his tongue. Lap – lap – lap – liiiiiick…

And then he kissed the tip of her clit.

It was a small action, really – one that should have been tame in comparison to flattening his tongue against her core, teasing at her entrance with the tip of his tongue, sweeping the hot, wet muscle over her nub with painful slowness – but somehow, that simple thing sent electric sparks from her clit throughout her entire body, thrumming with palpable intensity over her nerves. Her back arched as she gasped, and maybe Heechul-oppa had been studying her responses, waiting for the right timing. Because, just at that moment, he teased her relatively untouched nipples with his thumbs, circling around them, pressing against them, making them harden instantly.

“Fuck,” Taeyeon hissed. Everything stilled.

Somehow, the reaction was starker than anything the two men had gotten out of her before, and it must have encouraged them. After that slightest fraction of a moment’s hesitation, they resumed their caresses with single-minded determination – Heechul-oppa cupped her breasts in his hands, gently pinching her nipples, rolling them between his fingers, while his mouth swept along the curve of her neck, ghosting kisses and licks over her skin. And Jungsoo-oppa – Jungsoo-oppa adjusted himself, hooking her legs over his shoulders so she could hide absolutely nothing from him – and he pushed his tongue into her, his nose pressing against her clit.

Taeyeon moaned as they worked in flawless tandem, their teamwork so perfect that nothing could have denied them. Heechul-oppa’s hands on her nipples, making them hard and aching, and Jungsoo-oppa’s mouth against her core, his tongue thrusting steadily in and out of her, his nose constantly rubbing against her nub with every slightest movement, was more than she could handle. She was whimpering and trembling, pushing her hips this way and that in a frenzied attempt to find some sort of friction to relieve the throbbing need between her legs, both abated and inflamed by the two men working on her body. Her breaths grew shorter and shorter, her movements more and more desperate, as she continued to be pushed closer to the edge.

“Don’t stop,” she mewled, low and needy, and even in her state of near-euphoria she could sense the effect that her words had on both of them. “Fuck – you – you’re gonna make me come––!”

Heechul-oppa’s chuckle was right against her ear, low and hoarse and absolutely dirty. His hands on her nipples never stopped, pinching and rolling, caressing and palming, and she could feel him grinding his hard cock into her backside.

“Then what’s stopping you?” he asked breathlessly. “Come for us. Now.”

“Please,” Jungsoo-oppa whispered. He brought his right hand away from its previous position of pinning her thigh down and to the space between her legs. “We want to see you.” His thumb pressed into her clit.

Taeyeon shattered. Her pleasure peaked, and her entire body tensed as her orgasm washed over her, beginning as a tremble in her core and rapidly intensifying until the contractions of her walls had her entire body shuddering. Her eyes slammed shut on their own, her lips gasping for air and her hands squeezing tightly to Heechul-oppa’s thighs in a desperate attempt to stay grounded. Her back arched, exposing the entirety of her neck and throat to the two men, and her legs flexed instinctively, trying to close, to abate the clenching at her center – but Jungsoo-oppa held her firmly open, his gaze fixated with single-minded intensity on that spot between her legs. God, he was watching her come.

It must have taken at least ten seconds for her body to relax, and she went limp against Heechul-oppa, gasping as she tried to catch her breath. Her core was still throbbing, still reeling from the aftershocks of her orgasm, and she could feel stickiness seeping out of her lower lips.

Heechul-oppa soothed her gently, brushing her cheek with his thumb and murmuring quiet words of comfort. Jungsoo-oppa stroked her ankle and then lowered his head to press a tender kiss against her lower leg. The soft sensations helped bring her back to earth, and Taeyeon opened her eyes to flash them both a small smile, reassuring them that she was okay.

Even so, they had to ask. “Are you okay?” Heechul-oppa asked, his voice husky, but his tone warm, Jungsoo-oppa listening for her answer intently. It made Taeyeon feel soft, comfortable – even loved, although she knew that they didn’t really love her, and she didn’t really love them either. This was a one-time thing, or maybe a two-time thing… an x-time thing, because she had no idea how many times they’d be willing to do it again – but it had no strings attached.

“Yeah,” she whispered, her voice not coming out properly for a second. She cleared her throat, and even though there was nothing really to be cleared, that seemed to get her vocal cords back in properly working order. “I’m good.”

She shifted and was suddenly acutely aware of some warm stickiness against her back and rear. And, she realized, Heechul-oppa’s manhood was no longer turgid. She turned, and, just as she’d expected, a glistening stain decorated the sheets just around his cock. Seeing her pointed stare, he flashed a shameless grin, but she didn’t not notice the very faint pink blush of his cheeks. Behind her, Jungsoo-oppa chuckled.

“Hey,” Heechul-oppa shrugged. “You can’t blame me for coming. A sight like that – and you were pushing against me right there.”

Right there – against his cock. That was true. If Taeyeon had been in Heechul-oppa’s situation, she was positive she would have come, too. She laughed, breathless and still a little amazed after her high from just a minute ago. “Point taken.”

Heechul-oppa looked happy at her concession, and then his gaze flickered behind her. “Jungsoo…”

Oh, shit. For a second there, Taeyeon had forgotten – Jungsoo-oppa hadn’t gotten a single orgasm yet. After watching her suck Heechul-oppa off and then helping her come herself, he’d received absolutely nothing. She could see that his cock was still stiff and aroused, and its tip was damp.

“I’m okay.” Jungsoo-oppa clearly wasn’t, his breaths short and strained, his eyes wild with desire, but he was, as always, thinking of others far before he spared a thought for himself. “You two must be tired. Don’t worry about it.”

“Taeyeon might be,” Heechul-oppa cut in, “but I’m not. And you’re clearly not okay.” He smiled impishly. “Don’t worry, I can help you with that.” As the words came out of his mouth, he moved onto all fours, crawling toward the leader on the mattress.

“I’m fine, really.” But Jungsoo-oppa’s voice was thick. Hoarse and raw, like he was trying to control himself, and his breathing had deepened, his eyes darkening. “Heechul, you don’t have to – ah!”

Heechul-oppa settled between Jungsoo-oppa’s legs, ignoring his half-hearted insistence that he didn’t need to be looked after – even though he so clearly did – and wrapped his lips around the head of the other man’s cock. Her breathing deepening, Taeyeon shifted, adjusting her position so she could sidle up next to Heechul-oppa and get a good, proper look as he took more and more of his friend into his mouth.

“Shit,” Jungsoo-oppa breathed, burying his hands in Heechul-oppa’s bleached, white-blonde locks, his eyes sliding closed in surrender as the fellow member worked his cock. The stressed tension in his body lines, softening bit by bit as the night had gone further, melted away completely, replaced by loose tightness that was much more natural, much laxer. He let his head fall back, obviously just basking in the sensation of Heechul-oppa’s mouth on him.

They’ve done this before. Taeyeon knew it without question, from the easy rhythm into which they fell. Plenty of times before. Today in her dressing room, that most certainly wasn’t the first time. She wondered how long this had been going on.

It was sweet, the scene before her eyes. Yes, blowjobs weren’t normally considered sweet, but that’s exactly what this one was. Heechul-oppa went slowly; not torturously, teasingly, not slow in a way that was meant to encourage begging, but slowly in a way that was meant to be comfortable and enjoyable for Jungsoo-oppa. And it was clearly working, from the leader’s little sighs of pleasure, his quiet whimpers, the way his fingers tightened in Heechul-oppa’s hair but never yanked, the relaxed set of his entire body as he just melted into the sensations. Jungsoo-oppa was too often stressed and too often troubled, and if Heechul-oppa could help him with that – was trying to help him with that – like he was now, then it was sweet.

With a soft, wet pop, Heechul-oppa pulled his mouth from Jungsoo-oppa’s cock, spurring a whimper of protest from the leader as his eyes cracked open, bleary with pleasure. Heechul-oppa responded by giving a reassuring stroke on Jungsoo-oppa’s thigh before he glanced at Taeyeon and glanced down. An offer.

Gladly taking it, she reached between Jungsoo-oppa’s legs, and gently, delicately, ran the flat of her palm over his balls. The leader of Super Junior’s eyes snapped open in surprise as she cupped them lightly in her hands, adding just the slightest amount of pressure. She didn’t miss Heechul-oppa’s approving smirk before he once again engulfed the head of Jungsoo-oppa’s cock in his mouth, squeezing another gasp from the leader.

The two of them fell into a surprisingly natural tandem, coordinating their efforts to maximize the experience for Jungsoo-oppa. It was fascinating, Taeyeon thought, watching for the telltale signs of beginning to fall apart – the desperate flex of his throat as he swallowed wildly, the heaving of his chest as his whimpers grew increasingly in volume, the curling of his toes as his peak crept closer and closer. Something about the utter lack of control that he seemed to have over his own reactions was mesmerizing, pleasing even in itself, and it spurred her to try new tricks. She alternated the pressure of her hands against his balls, at times using the flat of her palms and at times using the very tips of her fingers, kneading here and stroking there.

The effect of her touches, combined with Heechul-oppa’s skillful mouth, proved to be too much for Jungsoo-oppa to handle for long. Taeyeon caught the hint that he was about to orgasm and, in a snap decision, left her spot. Pressing forward, she ran her hands along Jungsoo-oppa’s toned chest, flicking his nipples with her fingers, before slotting her mouth against his. He was caught off-guard, too hazy with pleasure to notice what she had been doing, and too drunk on sensations to put up much of a fight back. It was an easy and quick battle, teasing his mouth open with her own and greedily plundering, dipping the hot, wet muscle of his tongue against hers.

That was the final straw. With a long, soft moan, Jungsoo-oppa came, clenching his fists in his fellow member’s hair, back arching and pelvic muscles tensing. His mouth stilled, giving Taeyeon the possibility to explore more of the searing, damp cavern – but instead, she pulled back enough so she could watch him falling apart completely, his long neck and throat flexing. It was a mesmerizing sight, to watch his body contorting as he surrendered, if only for these brief seconds, any control over it.

Gradually, he relaxed once again, his fingers loosening in Heechul-oppa’s hair. Chest heaving, he opened his eyes, clouded over with the remnants of his earlier high. Taeyeon flashed him a wry grin as Heechul-oppa sat him, wiping his mouth with his hand. The muscles of his throat flexed as he swallowed – presumably taking Jungsoo-oppa’s seed down his throat. The leader’s breathing deepened once again when he saw his friend’s actions, his body stiffening as he tried to control himself. “Heechul,” he rasped out, voice raw and tinged with wild desperation. “Do you have to?”

“Of course I do,” Heechul-oppa’s voice was impish. “Only the best is allowed for you, Jungsoo.”

At his words, Jungsoo-oppa opened his eyes. There was a certain softness in them that seemed to turn the whole situation from dirty to sweet. “Thanks,” he whispered hoarsely. “Both of you.”

He was just so kind, Taeyeon thought fondly. Leaning in, she placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, smiling at the bemused blink he gave her in response.

“Hard to believe that you two didn’t like each other when you first met,” Heechul-oppa commented as the three of them began settling into the mattress, tired but satisfied. They needed a break. Jungsoo-oppa maneuvered himself to the left of the bed, Heechul-oppa to the right, and Taeyeon – she was sandwiched between them, the warmth of their sweaty bodies mingling with hers. She turned herself onto her stomach, pulling up the blanket to partially cover their naked bodies.

Jungsoo-oppa smiled sheepishly. “I’m more convinced that I just disliked her for no reason.”

“He did,” Taeyeon confirmed, giving him a dirty look. “He thought I was standoffish, which lead him to think I was stuck up.”

“You mean because of those little rumors that went around about her, don’t you.” It was a rhetorical question that Heechul-oppa asked, but Taeyeon nodded anyway. The second oldest member of Super Junior made a face at that. “That’s mostly all bullshit, anyway. You know how usually female celebrities get hate and rumors for the most ridiculous things. I can’t believe you ever believed any of it.”

“I can’t, either,” Jungsoo-oppa admitted, turning over onto his side. “That was a mistake.” His eyes met Taeyeon’s. “You were nothing like what I thought you were.”

“I’m not sure if anyone is,” Taeyeon snorted. “There are probably a lot of spoiled, arrogant people in this world – well, there are, definitely – but I doubt all of them know they’re being spoiled and arrogant and do it on purpose.” But despite it all, she was still grateful that she’d become close to Jungsoo-oppa at all. He was such a good friend, someone whom she couldn’t imagine her life without.

“You’re probably right.” Jungsoo-oppa sounded thoughtful. Contrary to the image he presented to he public, he was someone who had a lot of thoughts going on in that head of his. “I thought you might be acting snobbish just to be acting snobbish. What really happened was that you weren’t really acting snobbish at all…” An awkward smile turned his lips upward, and Taeyeon felt the arbitrary desire to trace her fingers over the seam of his mouth.

“I was biased,” Super Junior’s leader commented. “Especially about letting the rumors get to my head. You did snap me out of it, though.”

“What did she say?” Heechul-oppa asked, looking intrigued. Taeyeon reached over and tucked a strand of bleached-blonde hair away from his eyes as he spoke, but when she went to pull away, he, surprisingly, caught her hand in his and interlocked their fingers. Casually, not even looking while he did so, but that somehow suited Heechul-oppa far more.

“Basically that I don’t know shit,” Jungsoo-oppa summarized. Taeyeon laughed. That was accurate, although what she’d actually said had been Who are you to judge me?

Heechul-oppa snorted, too, amusement lacing his features. “That sounds exactly like you, Taeyeon.”

She eyed him. “Is that a compliment or…?”

Maybe as expected for Heechul-oppa, the answer he gave her was mischievous. There were no words, only an arch of his eyebrows that seemed to be saying What do you think?

“You two met hosting Inkigayo together, right?” Jungsoo-oppa questioned. “2000… 2009, was it? How did you get along?” He looked curious, his brown eyes opened slightly wider than usual, his eyebrows arched faintly, the very picture of inquisitiveness.

He really was cute.

“Great, actually,” she answered, truthfully. “Mostly thanks to Heechul-oppa.” He made blatant advances to become friendly with other people – she didn’t really bother. She could be friendly and was when talked to, but she rarely initiated conversations without a reason. Heechul-oppa, on the other hand…

“He said hi to me, said he was a fan, and then that he wanted to be friends. And he held out his hand, just like this,” Taeyeon continued, holding out her hand in the same way Heechul-oppa had when they first met. “I thought he was weird, honestly, but I did like him. So I just said yes. You know, like the sane person that one of us has to be.”  

“Bullshit, you said ‘That sounds good to me, sunbaenim. By the way, you’re even prettier up close.’ Sane,” Heechul-oppa scoffed. Taeyeon shrugged innocently.

“You’re both ridiculous,” Jungsoo-oppa snorted, but his eyes were twinkling merrily. Taeyeon smiled, while Heechul-oppa rolled his eyes. “Us?” He laughed. “You’re the craziest one here, Jungsoo.”

It was nice, Taeyeon thought lazily, reminiscing with two of her closest friends like this. Of course the situation was a little bit less than commonplace, but that wasn’t something she thought of frequently, not when the three of them continued to talk and laugh and joke so naturally. It didn’t, at all, feel like they were doing something strange, not even if it was true that they were all completely naked in bed together and had been giving and receiving orally between each other.

“When did this start happening between the two of you?” she asked. “Your… relations?” She wasn’t sure what else to call it. They didn’t strike her as considering themselves to be in a relationship, but she didn’t think it was just about having sex and feeling good. There was too much raw intimacy between them for that to be the case.

Heechul-oppa looked thoughtful, presumably trying to remember. “The first time was… a few months after our Incheon fight, wasn’t it?” he asked, glancing at Jungsoo-oppa, who nodded in confirmation. “It was when we were in America, and Jungsoo wanted to make up after our fight.” He snorted, but there was no true scorn behind it. “After rejecting every attempt that I made to talk to him.”

“He is a lot more obnoxious than most people would think,” Taeyeon commented playfully, both she and Heechul-oppa laughing at Jungsoo-oppa’s mock cry of protest. Then Heechul-oppa continued with his story, the other two listening with rapt attention – Taeyeon because she was curious of how the two of them had happened, and Jungsoo-oppa, it seemed, because he was curious of how Heechul-oppa would tell his account of what had happened.

“Anyway, we were talking about this and that, explaining why we made each other angry enough to fight. Then Jungsoo––”

“Hold on,” Taeyeon interrupted, not wanting to infringe upon Jungsoo-oppa’s personal matters. They were friends, and it wasn’t like she was against hearing this, but there were certain lines that she had to respect if Jungsoo-oppa was uncomfortable. She knew that night had been an emotional one – it didn’t take a genius to figure that out, and she didn’t want to intrude on it. “Is it okay for me to be hearing this?”

Heechul-oppa blinked. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Isn’t it too personal? Jungsoo-oppa?” She glanced at him to find him looking as puzzled as Heechul-oppa. “Are you alright with me knowing what happened that night?” She understood if it was a private matter between the two men, something that she had no part in. She might have partaken in their sessions this time, but she didn’t think she was in the position to –

“Taeyeon,” Heechul-oppa’s voice was uncharacteristically serious. “As weird as it sounds, you’re as much a part of this threesome as Jungsoo and I are. And you’re our friend. We don’t need to keep this a secret from you; I think we’re all past that stage with each other.”

“He’s right.” Jungsoo-oppa sounded firm – that tone that always reminded Taeyeon that, no matter how dorky or ridiculous he seemed (or more accurately, was), he was still Leeteuk, the respected leader of one of the world’s most successful groups, always at the forefront of Hallyu. “We’re not any less friends with you than we’re friends with each other. I trust you, Taeyeon. You can – and should – hear this.”

Taeyeon inhaled slowly. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel very slightly emotional. They were willing to divulge something so personal and close to home – to her, a third party. It wasn’t because of any feeling of being undeserving or inadequate on her part; if they wanted to tell her, they were welcome to. But the fact that they wanted to was a little bit touching. She nodded.

Seeing her understanding, Heechul-oppa continued. “And Jungsoo started telling me about how he was feeling lonely sometimes, how he was exhausted and stressed as the leader, how he felt like he couldn’t properly express his worries to the others without dragging the entire team down. He… cried that night.”

Taeyeon’s heart clenched. She glanced over at Jungsoo-oppa, who was staring at the ceiling with a distant look in his eyes. “I let Heechul know everything,” he said. “I hid it for years, and I intended to keep hiding it, but I told him.” Taeyeon and Heechul-oppa listened carefully. “I think… I couldn’t bear to tell anyone but him. The others would help me, of course, but they wouldn’t understand completely, and I don’t want to be a burden to them. But Heechul… I thought he’d understand. And he does.” Jungsoo-oppa’s gaze was warm as he looked at his friend.

Heechul-oppa scoffed, but Taeyeon could instantly tell it was a scoff borne of embarrassment. He wasn’t good at warm and fluffy settings like this, after all. “Hey,” he grumbled, but his voice was bashful. “Don’t be so cringy.”

His prickliness and his awkwardness when faced with heartwarming situations made Taeyeon laugh as she reached forward to place an affectionate palm on Jungsoo-oppa’s cheek. To her slight surprise, he closed his eyes as her hand made contact with his skin, leaning into her touch like a satisfied cat.

It was cute. She knew she’d already said this before, but Jungsoo-oppa was seriously cute.

“Then what happened?”

“We were a little bit drunk,” Heechul-oppa picked up. “Jungsoo was hugging me, and he was crying. And, this is embarrassing, but I started crying too.”

The image in Taeyeon’s mind was nothing short of heartwrenching. She knew, on some level, the difficulties that Jungsoo-oppa went through, because for some reason he seemed to be able to confide in her – and she was a leader, too. She sadly couldn’t comprehend the depths of the burden he felt, but that didn’t mean she didn’t understand how difficult things had been for him. It was such a relief, sincerely, that Heechul-oppa was there with him. She remembered hearing Donghae-oppa talking about how, after the night that Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa made up from their Incheon fight, Heechul-oppa was always on Jungsoo-oppa’s side. It must have been because he had realized how much the leader needed someone to lean on.

“Then?” She was curious. How did they become what they were now?

Heechul-oppa hesitated, looking embarrassed. Taeyeon could just tell he’d done something extremely sweet that he didn’t want to say he’d done. She glanced at Jungsoo-oppa, who had a mischievous glint in his eye, clearly about the spill the beans on his friend.

“He held my hand,” the leader supplied, and Taeyeon’s eyes widened as she turned a teasing gaze on Heechul-oppa, who was abashedly grumbling to himself, looking away. Then Jungsoo-oppa turned sentimentally serious again, the mirth leaving his eyes as he recalled the night that he and his friend had become, it seemed to Taeyeon, something more intimate, and not just physically, or even just romantically. “I was crying into his shoulder. And then he…”

“Kissed you?” Taeyeon guessed.

“It was kind of mutual.” Jungsoo-oppa specified, “He tried to wipe away my tears – while crying himself – and then we were kissing.” The leader shrugged. “Somehow. It escalated from there.”

Taeyeon fell silent, trying to imagine the kind of headspace they had both been in that night. Both men emotional and crying, Jungsoo-oppa confessing how alone he felt and unable to express his worries he was, Heechul-oppa listening and shedding tears, too, for his friend and for their group and for what they’d all gone through over the years. And, in the end, their kiss leading to their first time together. What had they been thinking? What did they think about each other? Friends, of course, the most intimate kind, but what else?

What were they?

“What are you two?” Taeyeon asked. The question made both men sit up, so she followed, flipping back onto her back and pulling herself upright, holding the blanket to her chest. Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa looked thoughtful, as if they were also fishing for a proper answer to her question. It didn’t seem like they’d never thought about to Taeyeon, though, and she really couldn’t blame them. If she was in their situation – if she was them – she’d be wondering about it all the time.

“I don’t think this is a relationship, to be honest. I don’t think either of us do.” It was Heechul-oppa who spoke first, glancing at his friend, who nodded in agreement. “We’re not looking for longtime commitment, and neither of us will protest or feel upset if the other dates. And of course, this stops if one of us is ever in a legitimate relationship.” Jungsoo-oppa nodded, once again.

“So I guess we’re just screwing,” Heechul-oppa finished with a wry smile. But Taeyeon wasn’t convinced, and not only because of her own observations about the relationship between the two men. It was also because Heechul-oppa did not sound or look convinced with his own words, and neither did Jungsoo-oppa looked satisfied with the description of their relationship.

“That’s it?” she asked, not bothering to filter the doubt from her voice. The blunt question seemed to snap both Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa out of a trance. They looked at her simultaneously, visible surprise in their dark eyes. Taeyeon arched her eyebrows, somehow not confused by the stark reaction.

“I mean,” she said, “you two seem like a lot more than just fuck buddies to me.”

“Of course we’re more than that. We’re friends.” Jungsoo-oppa’s reply was slightly feeble. Not his voice, but the conviction behind it was slightly, and quite noticeably, lacking.

Taeyeon rolled her eyes. “That too, naturally. But I mean you’re both more to each other than just fuck buddies, and more to each other than just friends.”

“We’re not in love,” Heechul-oppa said firmly, clearly thinking she was implying that. And while that wasn’t exactly what she had been intending to say, she found that she had to wonder about that. Still. If they wanted to consider themselves not in love, she supposed that was beyond the scope she was willing to dig into. But they were not going to sit there and tell her that they were just two close friends happily screwing each other and nothing else, not when everything about them, together and here in her house contradicted that.

“I don’t mean that,” she chided, earning questioning glances from the two men. “Honestly, I don’t think there’s a single word in the dictionary to describe what you two seem to be to me.”

Heechul-oppa cocked his head, the fringe of his bleached-blonde locks falling slightly to the side with the movement. “Then describe it in words.”

Taeyeon’s eyes flicked over to Jungsoo-oppa. He seemed curious, too. She paused. It wasn’t difficult to describe what she saw their relationship as; several phrases came easily enough to accurately give them a picture of how they appeared to her eyes. But she had to wonder how they would react to her assessments.

Even so, she was going to be honest with them. Beating around the bush had never been in her nature.

“To keep it simple, I think you two are just always going to be there for each other,” she admitted. “There’s some kind of connection between you that no one else has.”

Heechul-oppa made a face. “Connection? What trash romance novels have you been reading?”

“I’m serious,” Taeyeon scolded, although she was amused; this reaction was just like the Heechul-oppa that she knew. “You two understand each other on a deeper level than anyone else. It comes from psychological closeness, if you ask me. You’ve both seen and know the worst of each other – that can make for a seriously strong bond.” She hesitated and studied the men in her bed, curious to know what they thought of her opinion on the matter. They were both looking at her with twin expressions of rapt interest, confirming Taeyeon’s suspicion that neither of them had ever really believed they were just screwing. Both of them knew they were more (they’d have to be stupid to believe otherwise, really), they just hadn’t known what to call that more.

In all honesty, she didn’t know what to call it, either. She was only describing it as best as she could. “You’re just… intimate.”

“Intimate?” Jungsoo-oppa’s voice was thoughtful. “That’s kind of accurate… I think that’s the best way of expressing it, actually.”

Heechul-oppa didn’t say anything. Generally, if he was wordless in these kinds of conversations, it meant he was in agreement – but then, he did speak, leaning over to Taeyeon and nuzzling her bare shoulder.

“You’re smart,” he murmured sincerely between kisses against her skin, “Jungsoo’s right, that’s accurate.”

Taeyeon opened her mouth to speak, but Heechul-oppa silenced her with a brief and light kiss. When he pulled back, she laughed breathlessly, surprised. “Why does it seem like that turns you on?”

“It does,” was the husky reply. His gaze was intense, almost fixated on her, as he shook the fringe of his bleached-blonde hair out of his eyes.

Damn. Whatever else might be true, Heechul-oppa was sexy. That much was an irrefutable truth of the world.

“That so?” Taeyeon clasped her hands around the nape of his neck and kissed him, fully on the mouth this time. Their lips melded together naturally, tongues brushing, and Heechul-oppa ran one hand down the length of her spine, making her shiver. The other he reached out to Jungsoo-oppa, who – Taeyeon cracked open one eye even while kissing Heechul-oppa to see this – entwined their fingers and pressed his lips tenderly to Heechul-oppa’s palm in a gesture of affection.

Taeyeon and Heechul-oppa broke apart, and Heechul-oppa turned his head towards Jungsoo-oppa. Taeyeon watched with fascination as it was them two who kissed this time, with so much emotion and sheer vulnerability that it could almost have made her tear up.

Love was an elusive concept, but she thought if she had ever come close to seeing it, now was the closest.

Jungsoo-oppa pulled backwards barely a centimeter, as if reluctant to part from his friend for even that little bit. Both men were flushed, eyes heavy-lidded and naked chests heaving as they caught their breath.

“Heechul,” the leader gasped, his voice hoarse with desire. “And you too, Taeyeon.” Reaching out, he caught her hand in his much larger one and brought it to his cheek with a kind of fierce, burning affection. “Thank you.”

Somehow, she knew exactly what he was thanking them for, even if it wasn’t explicitly stated. Her heart squeezing at his raw sincerity, Taeyeon stretched forward and pressed her face into the crook of Jungsoo-oppa’s neck, placing a kiss on his collarbone and feeling the shudder that ran through his body at the contact. “Jungsoo,” she murmured, trailing her lips up his neck, calling his given name freely without any honorifics. “You’re such a beautiful person, do you know that?”

Jungsoo-oppa let out a guttural moan that was far too visceral to be just a reaction to her mouth pressing against his pulse point. He curled his fingers in Taeyeon’s hair, pulling lightly and pleasurably at her scalp. She breathed out lightly in approval at the sensation, but in the next instant, the sigh turned into a strangled whimper. Heechul-oppa had reached underneath the blanket, his hand dipping between her legs. His index finger traced a continuous figure 8 on her clit, dragging mercilessly across the sensitive nub and ignoring Taeyeon’s soft mewls. He didn’t stop until her core was trembling slightly and there was fresh, new wetness between her thighs.

When Heechul-oppa pulled his hand away, Taeyeon hissed in protest, the denial sending a deliciously hollow pang roiling throughout her entire body. He just flashed an impish smile, coupled with a mischievous cock of his head that made strands of his white-blonde hair fall prettily across his eyes. She scowled at him, but there was no true annoyance behind it.

“What now?” Heechul-oppa asked mischievously, his dark brown eyes glinting in the low light. Jungsoo-oppa was looking at intently, too. They’re leaving the decision up to me, Taeyeon thought. She could ask them to do anything that she wanted, and as long as they were comfortable with it, it was all hers. The thought made her head spin with ideas.

“Why don’t you tell me?” she asked.

Heechul-oppa blinked. “What?”

“You tell me. I’m sure you have great ideas too, oppa. Jungsoo-oppa, too. What do you think we could get up to?” She was genuinely curious. The fact that they were willing to have a threesome already meant that they were probably more open to experimenting than the majority of people, but Taeyeon wanted to know just how far that went.

Jungsoo-oppa liked her suggestion. The dark glint in his usually gentle eyes was more than enough confirmation of that. Heechul-oppa looked more than willing, too, his face thoughtful as he considered her words.

“Then,” Jungsoo-oppa spoke up, “do you want to watch while I fuck Heechul?”

Taeyeon pressed her legs together, biting her lip as Heechul-oppa glared at his friend. “She’s already seen enough of that, you spoilsport,” he retorted. “How about you watch me fuck Jungsoo? Doesn’t that sound good?”

It did sound good. Both of their suggestions sounded good, and if they were willing then Taeyeon was also willing to save that for another occasion. But right now, what was starting to tentatively come to her mind – although it would have been much nicer if it had come to her mind before she decided to ask the two men what they thought – involved all three of them. “Both of those are good ideas,” she said, “but I’m starting to have something else in mind.”

The two men pinned her with twin curious gazes, and Taeyeon had to look away briefly to hide the small smile that crept onto her face at the sight. She resisted the urge to reach up and card her fingers through their hair, and instead clarified her intentions. “I want both.”

“Both?” They repeated her at almost the same time. Taeyeon nodded. “Both. Of you. At the same time.”

There was a pause. Heechul-oppa’s teeth sank into his lower lip, and Jungsoo-oppa’s breathing deepened.

“Woah, woah, woah. Will you be okay?” Heechul-oppa asked. His eyes were wide at her idea – the picture of surprise, it might seem, but Taeyeon knew him well enough to notice the subtle signs of arousal making themselves known. His pale cheeks were flushing over, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed gingerly. Jungsoo-oppa, she could see, was no less unaffected. His chest was heaving with his deepening breaths, and his eyes seemed to have darkened over from deep brown to black.

“If I’m not okay at any point, I’ll let you know,” Taeyeon assured him.

Heechul-oppa eyed her, still holding on to his reservations. She didn’t blame him – this was a big thing to be suggesting, and it wasn’t like he seemed to be against it. Just concerned for her. “You’re suggesting you take one of us in the ass. Have you ever…?”

“Had anal sex?”

“Yeah.” Heechul-oppa looked a tad bit awkward to be talking about these things, and Jungsoo-oppa’s expression was mildly scandalized at how straightforward they were being. As for Taeyeon, it felt peculiar, too, but she pushed past the strangeness of it. Candidacy was important when it came to these matters.

“I have, yeah.” Her confirmation clearly abating their concerns a little, both men relaxed, moving away from the realm of worries and fully easing themselves into the realm of lust. Her libido bouncing off and mirroring theirs, Taeyeon could feel herself becoming more hot and bothered, too. Images flitted in her mind, and she wasn’t ashamed to admit that they were some of the dirtiest thoughts that had ever gone through her head. Jungsoo-oppa pressed a hot, reassuring kiss against her mouth, their tongues brushing as Taeyeon clasped a hand around the nape of his neck. The temperature in the room seemed to be rising rapidly as all three bodies shifted, drawing closer together and relishing in the sensation of each other’s skin. Shifting his position so he was behind her, Heechul-oppa wrapped his arms around her waist, his teeth grazing her shoulder lightly. Taeyeon could feel his member hardening against her ass. She moaned softly as he palmed her rear, teasing the skin in slow, smooth strokes.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” he murmured into her ear, making Taeyeon shudder. She nodded, flashing him a smile over her shoulder before pulling Jungsoo-oppa toward her for another kiss.

Brushing his lips against the nape of her neck, Heechul-oppa declared, “I’ll take the back. Is that okay with both of you?”

Pulling back from the kiss, but only slightly, Jungsoo-oppa nodded as Taeyeon did too. “The lube and condoms are in that nightstand drawer,” she supplied, gesturing towards the nightstand sitting next to her bed.

In hurried, impatient movements, Heechul-oppa opened the drawer, pulled out the bottle and two packets. He threw one of the packets and Jungsoo-oppa, who caught it deftly. Giving Taeyeon another quick kiss, Super Junior’s leader ripped the material open, gingerly bringing out the condom. Stroking himself quickly a few times, he rolled the latex down his length, and maybe it was Taeyeon’s miscalculation, but she thought she saw his fingers trembling ever-so-slightly in anticipation. Heechul-oppa did the same as his friend, sighing lightly as the material settled over his hardening manhood.

Taeyeon’s heartbeat quickened until she could feel it thumping in her ears. She might have had sex both ways, but never before had she had both at the same time. The anticipation she felt was undeniably powerful, but despite the fact that she was the one who’d suggested this, she couldn’t argue that she was one-hundred percent confident and nothing else. Would it hurt? What would it feel like, even if it didn’t? Was it even possible for her? What if––

Heechul-oppa nuzzled the back of her neck, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses to the skin, while Jungsoo-oppa took her hand and intertwined their fingers. “Relax, Taeyeon.” His voice was soft. “We’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Taeyeon felt Heechul-oppa nod his head behind her in agreement. “We’re going to make you feel so good,” he murmured gently, rubbing her spine with his thumb. “And if you want to, we will stop anytime.” He placed a hand on her thigh and stroked it, not as a sexual gesture but as a gesture of reassurance. Coupled with Jungsoo-oppa’s fingers interlaced with hers, it was enough to calm Taeyeon’s pulse a little. She took a deep breath, nodding in thanks at his comfort, and decided that she didn’t want to wait for the two men to make their moves. Taking the initiative, she put her hands on Jungsoo-oppa’s shoulders and gently pushed him down onto the mattress. He gave without protest or resistance, letting her settle him down, head on the pillow and body comfortably prone on the bed.

Straddling Super Junior’s leader, leaning over him, Taeyeon lowered her face to his. She briefly considered kissing him, but instead, the action of pressing their foreheads together and nuzzling against his face felt righter. Better. She closed her eyes and sighed softly as their noses touched and their cheeks brushed, feeling the small puffs of air against her mouth as Jungsoo-oppa breathed. For a moment, they just enjoyed the quiet peace, the pleasure of skin against skin.

Then Taeyeon reached between them and pressed the heel of her palm gently into the base of his cock. Jungsoo-oppa jerked, a groan escaping him. His hands flew up to grip her waist, fingers digging into her skin. His hips rolled, and his lower head brushed against her clit. Taeyeon gasped. She could feel her core beginning to pulse again, desperate for contact and friction. As if sensing her arousal, Heechul-oppa shifted, bringing his hand over and around her leg to touch her clit. Another moan fell from Taeyeon’s lips. Her legs felt weak, and it was difficult to hold herself up over Jungsoo-oppa’s body. And when Heechul-oppa used his entire hand, rolling the throbbing nub with his palm, she felt herself beginning to tremble. Unable to help herself, she reached between her own legs, her fingers brushing against Heechul-oppa’s at her center.

“Naughty,” Heechul-oppa whispered, making Taeyeon flush. He took her hand in his larger one and guided her fingers to caress her clit. Taeyeon didn’t try to stop it, the surrender of letting him use her hand to do his work turning her on just as much as the actual touching.

The entire time, Jungsoo-oppa had been relaxing and watching the show, the picture of leisure if not for his heaving chest, flushed cheeks, and turgid manhood. It was only then that he moved, reaching up to cup one of Taeyeon’s breasts in his hand. His thumb traced its supple curve before brushing the nipple, and Taeyeon keened. She wanted to press her legs together, to calm the pounding and throbbing at her center, but the lower limbs were spread with Jungsoo-oppa’s waist and Heechul-oppa’s hand working hers between them. She was so wet, she realized – so wet – that she could feel it seeping from her folds, smeared all about her core and inner thighs thanks to Heechul-oppa’s efforts.

“Oh God,” she moaned. “I can’t take it anymore. Jungsoo-oppa, Heechul-oppa, I want… I want…” The sentence wouldn’t come out. But the two men didn’t need words.

“Are you sure you’ll be able to take us both?” Jungsoo-oppa asked one more time. Behind her, Heechul-oppa stilled, waiting to hear her response. Not even when Taeyeon wriggled her hips, trying to create more friction between his fingers and her core, did he move. Swallowing a frustrated cry, Taeyeon nodded. She knew that they just wanted to make sure she was completely ready – and she was.

At her affirmation, Heechul-oppa took his hand away from between her legs, freeing her hand in turn. A glance over her shoulder made Taeyeon aware that he was opening the bottle of lube, holding it carefully at an angle as to not spill any on the bed. Her heart pounding, she turned her attention back to Jungsoo-oppa and lowered her body, feeling every inch as he entered her. She felt the moment the head of his cock slipped inside her wet folds, she felt every centimeter as he sunk deeper and deeper into her core, and she felt the moment he bottomed out inside her, the tip pressing against that one spot. The stretch of her inner muscles felt so good that it almost hurt – almost – making her head spin. She closed her eyes and let her head loll back, taking deep breaths in an attempt to control herself.

Beneath her, Jungsoo-oppa moaned, going to roll his hips, but Taeyeon stopped him by wrapping a gentle hand around his throat. Not yet. She wanted desperately for him to move, too, because the feeling of him inside her was torturous, and her pulsing, trembling channel was demanding for more, but she was sure she’d come all too soon if she let him move.

Taeyeon took another deep breath when she felt Heechul-oppa’s hand hovering near her asshole. It wasn’t her first time in the back end, but it was her first time in both, and stark cold of the lube against her heated skin was always difficult to adjust to. She struggled not to tense when Heechul-oppa slipped a lubed finger inside her, murmuring reassuringly. It felt a little bit odd, as it always did, but Jungsoo-oppa’s hand, slipping through hers and squeezing, helped her relax as Heechul-oppa worked her with his finger, getting her used to the sensation. It didn’t take long until she was gasping and just a finger wasn’t nearly enough. Sensing her want for more, Heechul-oppa slipped another digit in, slowly, carefully scissoring his fingers.

Taeyeon’s toes curled at the sensation that swept over her. She had to fight to keep herself upright, not expecting the pleasure to be so potent. There was a heat stirring in her core that she’d never felt before, and all she knew was that she wanted it – no, needed it – to expand, to engulf her entire body until it was all she could think about.

“More.” The word was broken and hoarse, and sounded even more wrecked than Taeyeon had expected. Her own voice sounded so deliciously helpless… Taeyeon moaned, the thrill going straight to her core.

Heechul-oppa didn’t tease. Obediently, he removed his fingers from her, eliciting an unexpected murmur of complaint from Taeyeon, and squirted more lube onto his hand, making sure to thoroughly smear her tight ring of muscle in preparation for him. Hazily, through the cloud of lust, Taeyeon realized how well the two men were taking care of her, despite how dirty what they were doing was. Jungsoo-oppa’s fingers were still threaded through hers, comforting, and Heechul-oppa must have been dying to feel something against his cock, but his movements were unhurried and meticulous as he got her ready. It touched her, and, more appropriately for this situation – their sweetness was also a turn-on. Involuntarily, her walls squeezed once around Jungsoo-oppa, making him gasp.

Heechul-oppa placed his hands on her waist, and Taeyeon felt the head of his lubricated cock against her asshole. Kissing her spine reassuringly, he pushed ever-so-slightly forward, his tip sinking inside. Taeyeon swallowed thickly as he continued, entering her inch by inch and pausing at little increments to give her time. She could feel his hands on her hips, fingers tight and clenched as he tried to control himself. A strangled groan escaped him.

Little by little, Heechul-oppa advanced until he was fully sheathed inside her and she could feel the heat of his body against her back. His chest was heaving, breath hot against the back of her neck as he panted at the feeling of her clenching around him.

“Fuck,” Taeyeon breathed as her body fully adjusted to the two men inside her. Her head spun – she couldn’t believe it felt this good, just by having them both. They weren’t even moving, and she––oh God. Heechul-oppa thrusted incrementally, gingerly, and Taeyeon’s mind blanked. She couldn’t describe the feeling in words, other than that she had never felt so full, so hot, before. Her entire body was trembling, and it felt like her muscles would no longer obey her if she tried to move them. That ball of pleasure inside her was already pulsing, already on the brink of an imminent explosion, and she needed it to. She needed it to burst.

Jungsoo-oppa was studying her intently for any sign of discomfort, and seemed to be unsure of what to think of her reaction. “Taeyeon?” he asked softly, and she just barely heard him through the haze.

“You okay?” Heechul-oppa’s voice, behind her, was strained and hoarse. “Taeyeon? Can we…”

“Move,” Taeyeon hissed, barely able to get even that word out. “Both of you, just… fuck me already. Please, I need––”

Without bothering to hear the rest of her plea, Jungsoo-oppa canted his hips upward, making all three of them jerk and pulling a gasp from Taeyeon. Following suit with his friend, Heechul-oppa thrust – not as hard as Taeyeon would have liked, but hard enough to have her seeing stars, for her toes to curl and her clit to throb and her eyes to roll to the back of her head. Her moan caught in her throat as the two men repeated the motions, again and again until they had established a steady rhythm, thrusting in tandem with the other so that she was always filled. Her body rocked with each movement, and it was all Taeyeon could do to hold onto her sanity under their coordinated efforts.

Oh my God. How was she supposed to find the words? That pooling heat in her core that was always part of sex was at least twice as searing as it usually was, driving her right to the edge and making her hungry, desperate, for more. Taeyeon’s mouth opened, but no sound except for frantic gasps came out. She clung to Jungsoo-oppa’s shoulders to prevent herself from collapsing entirely, unable to do anything else as that knot inside her became hotter and hotter and tighter and tighter, preparing to give.

“How is it?” She barely understood Heechul-oppa’s strained, breathy whisper in her ear as he rocked into her in coordination with his friend. “To have both of us inside you?”  

It’s – it’s… “So – so full…” Taeyeon gasped, her power of speech nearly robbed. “So… good… ah…”

She sounded so needy, so wanton, more than she’d ever heard herself sound before. It fully dawned on her blank, overwhelmed mind how entirely helpless she was in that moment, how she was letting these two men see her at her most vulnerable. Normally she was so uncomfortable with opening up like this, but because it was Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa, two men that she loved and trusted with her life, it only made her feel hotter. A whimper left her at the thought that she could willingly, happily let them see her like this, her inner walls spasming once and clamping down hard on the two men. Below her, Jungsoo-oppa grunted, and behind her, Heechul-oppa gasped.

Together, with that same unyielding partnership that kept Super Junior going for so long, they worked her higher and higher, with low moans and strained gasps and gentle, reassuring hands on her stomach, sides, thighs, arms, all the while plowing into her, ruthless and without mercy. That coil inside her was still growing, still tightening, still burning hotter and hotter, until Taeyeon was convinced it was surely going to give – but somehow, it didn’t, it wouldn’t reach that peak that she desperately craved. Her eyes filled with tears at Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa’s brutal, punishing thrusts, and the dazed thought that there was no chance she was going to be walking properly in the morning flitted through Taeyeon’s head – but then another harsh snap of Jungsoo-oppa’s hips wiped any coherency from her mind completely.

Then it was just physical, her brain putting a stop to anything else in favor of just focusing on the sensations that were crashing over her body with overwhelming force – climbing, climbing, climbing, climbing, yearning for that release that she knew was imminent but seemed to be hovering just out of her reach. The ruthless precision and cooperation of the two men inside her were making her nearly delirious, barely able to remember who she was and how this was happening, and the lewd sounds that were falling from all three of them – the moans, gasps, mewls, the whimpers and the cries – did nothing but enhance that need to be able to get to that peak. Just a little more – just a little hotter, a little harder––

Jungsoo-oppa cupped her soaked, swollen clit in his palm and rolled, the heated skin of his hand rubbing against the nub from all angles. Taeyeon’s back arched as that twisting, burning, writhing coil inside her snapped, without warning and with the force of a train wreck. She came hard, inner muscles clenching wildly, the knot that she’d wanted so much to erupt sending a violent explosion of hot, liquid pleasure throughout her entire body. Her body convulsed in synchronization with the spasming of her walls around Heechul-oppa and Jungsoo-oppa, and the latter, orgasm triggered by hers, threw his head back, his strangled cry ripping through the pants and gasps to echo throughout the apartment. And that sight, that sound – that must have done it for Heechul-oppa, too, because with two more sloppy, frantic thrusts into her, his body went rigid, his cock twitching, and she felt his seed inside her even through the material of the condom. The feeling of two men coming inside her at the same time made Taeyeon tremble, her own orgasm prolonged as her walls clamped down a few more times around them, gradually getting slower and weaker until they stopped altogether.

Taeyeon raised herself gingerly up from Jungsoo-oppa as Heechul-oppa slipped out of her. Breathless, her body feeling unbelievably light and tingly, she collapsed onto Jungsoo-oppa’s prone, sweaty body in a boneless heap, her chest heaving and her thighs still trembling. Heechul-oppa didn’t bother moving much either, opting to relax right on top of her, squishing her between the two men. For a moment, all she processed was the sound of their panting, the warmth of their shared body heat, and the unreal weightlessness of her body. Her mind was completely blank, any care spared for thought completely depleted.

It must have been for at least two minutes that they just lay there, catching their breath, not saying anything and not really wanting to say anything. The silence was broken by Heechul-oppa’s voice, husky and raw from what had happened just minutes prior.

“That was… something.”

It was one of the few times Taeyeon had ever heard him sound at such a loss for words. An amused huff escaped her. “You could say that.” She glanced down at Jungsoo-oppa, whose eyes were cracked lazily open and staring at her. “Sorry. I should probably get off you.”

“You’re fine,” Jungsoo-oppa murmured, his gaze switching to his friend, sharpening to a playful glare, “It’s him that’s the problem.”

“What’s the matter? You love it when I lay on top of you after a good fuck.” Heechul-oppa’s words were taunting, as per usual, but there was an unexpected softness in his voice. Without another sound of protest, he extricated himself, flopping down on the mattress a little bit away from Jungsoo-oppa. Sensing that he’d left space for her, Taeyeon gave Super Junior’s leader a brief kiss on the nose and followed, pulling herself to the side and wriggling until all three of them were comfortably lying in the bed, her in between the two men.

Heechul-oppa peeled the condom gingerly off his softened member, discarding it in the trash can. After a moment, Jungsoo-oppa did the same, careful not to let any of his seed spill out and get on the floor. “Are you okay?” he asked her softly as she sat up, wincing a little at the soreness between her legs.

Okay definitely wasn’t the right word to be describing her right now (she was much more than okay), but Taeyeon understood his intentions. She nodded, playfully palming his cheek.

“We should clean you up,” Heechul-oppa commented, and Jungsoo-oppa dipped his head to gesture his agreement.

“That’s okay.” Taeyeon didn’t want them to feel obligated. “I can do it myself.”

“Yeah, but I want to do it for you. And I’m sure Jungsoo does, too.” Heechul-oppa’s reply caught her off guard. She blinked, staying silent this time as the two men left the bedroom. They had both already been to her apartment plenty of times, so there was no need to worry that they wouldn’t know where to find the bathroom, or the towels.

They’re walking around my apartment naked right now. The realization, while it should be obvious, only just hit her now, and she had to fight to stop a giggle from bursting through. Not that it was funny, really, it was just altogether odd. But not in a bad way. There was something pleasing about the situation; two of her close friends taking such considerate care of her after their threesome. It made Taeyeon realize, again, what good people Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa were. She was glad to be friends with them.

Waiting for the two, Taeyeon wriggled over the mattress and sheets so she could reach over to her nightstand and take out the bottle of birth control pills that she kept in one of the drawers. She knew that Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa had done their part in putting on condoms, but she generally didn’t feel secure after sex without minimizing the chance of any accidents as much as possible, which meant that, on top of her partner – or partners, in this case – having a condom on, she had to make sure she had contraceptives, as well. She took one, screwed the cap of the bottle back on, dropped it into its original spot, and shut the drawer.

Not ten seconds after, the two men returned, Heechul-oppa also with his clothes that had been discarded earlier in the living room. Both of them were holding wet towels. Wondering if they were really, genuinely going to do it for her, Taeyeon stretched out her hands expectantly. Part of her was ready for them to hand her the towels and let her do the somewhat complicated part, but Jungsoo-oppa shook his head. “Let us do it.”

“Yeah. You have to be exhausted after that,” Heechul-oppa agreed. “We’ll take care of it. Please?”

Please. Did they really want to do that for her that badly? It was surprisingly touching. She nodded. “Okay.”

Pleased at her response, Heechul-oppa bent down and gave her a brief but gentle kiss on her forehead, brushing strands of hair away from her face before he pulled away and giving her a mischievous, shit-eating grin. Rolling her eyes, muttering that this was why his nickname was “nutcase”, Taeyeon swiped him away playfully, adjusting herself on the bed to make room for the two Super Junior members. They settled themselves comfortably around her, gently probing between her legs and wiping her wet folds down with the water-soaked towels. The material was warm, presumably from the temperature of the water, and Taeyeon let out a little sigh of pleasure. It felt surprisingly, completely natural, what they were doing. The three of them had always done so many things together, and this wasn’t much different.

Jungsoo-oppa seemed happy at her expression of contentment. That bright smile spread across his mouth, lighting his entire face up and brightening those beautiful eyes. “Does that feel good?” he asked gently, tenderly grazing his lips across her kneecap. Going the tiniest bit breathless at his affectionate display, Taeyeon nodded wordlessly, reaching forward and petting his head. The action seemed to be satisfying to him, if the way he closed his eyes like a satisfied lap cat was any indication.

The two men worked diligently and quietly, carefully, until most of the wetness between Taeyeon’s thighs was cleaned off. “What about you two?” she asked as they confirmed that she didn’t need any more hands. They seemed relatively clean for their part, and her observation was confirmed when Heechul-oppa replied that they’d already washed themselves off.

“Then I’m going to take a shower,” Taeyeon decided out loud. As enjoyable as their threesome had been – and it was enjoyable – she was covered in sweat, unsurprisingly, and she wasn’t going to go to bed like this. Besides, the sheets of her bed needed changing after all that had happened on top of them, and she wasn’t in the mood to do so when she was so unkempt. To put it mildly.

“Want to join?” She was surprised at how simple it felt to ask them if they wanted to shower with her, but then again – it was hard to feel unsure about it when she saw the way their eyes glinted at her question. Taeyeon knew the answer before it was even out of their mouths.

Or rather, they never gave their answers through their mouths, instead opting to let their actions speak for themselves. Heechul-oppa leaned forward and kissed her, a soft and surprisingly chaste melding of lips after what the three of them had just done. On her other side, she felt Jungsoo-oppa place his chin on her shoulder, watching her exchange with his friend as he looped his hand through hers, intertwining their fingers and squeezing affectionately.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Taeyeon said a tad bit breathlessly as Heechul-oppa broke the kiss. Both men smiled.

She usually enjoyed showers regardless, but tonight, with Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa in the tub with her, it felt even more pleasant. It was the first time she’d ever been washed by someone else. Heechul-oppa insisted on lathering her scalp and hair with shampoo, his hands thorough and careful, and then helping her rinse it off with the hot running water. Jungsoo-oppa did the conditioner, gently smoothing through the locks of her hair with the creamy material and then also rinsing it off for her. Taeyeon had always wondered what it would feel like to let someone do such mundane things for her; although she’d not been sure that it would be pleasant for her, seeing as she was cripplingly frightened of ever being dependent on anyone, it was startlingly and wholly comforting.

It was also the first time that she had helped wash someone. She and Heechul-oppa teamed up to shampoo Jungsoo-oppa’s hair, meticulously wiping at his scalp through the soapy locks, and then washing it off with the hot shower water. Not that the effort wasn’t worth it to help him, but Jungsoo-oppa’s soft smile made everything even more worthwhile.

Next, she and Jungsoo-oppa worked together on Heechul-oppa, doing the same with him. After they’d finished that, the two men went back to work on her, lathering her body gently with body wash. Their warm, steady hands on her skin brought a whole different type of satisfaction than the kind they’d given her earlier in the bedroom, and Taeyeon found herself practically melting into their touch, letting them do their work. They were thorough; before she might have thought doing this would be totally awkward, but somehow, it wasn’t.

She sighed in pleasure as Jungsoo-oppa’s hands brushed over the curve of her hips. He smiled at her, that dimple flashing with the upward curl of his lips.

Once the men had finished with the body wash, Heechul-oppa turned on the water again, and they again worked in tandem to rinse her off. They might always say their personalities didn’t match, but their actual actions were perfectly coordinated together, getting the job done efficiently.

After she was cleaned, she helped Jungsoo-oppa do the same to Heechul-oppa, then helped Heechul-oppa do the same to Jungsoo-oppa. And following all that, the three of them took turns with their final rinsing to get rid of any traces of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that might be left.

They stepped out of the shower and dried themselves, patting excess water droplets away with towels. Taeyeon wrung her dripping hair over the bathtub, squeezing firmly until drops were no longer falling down her back, legs, and arms. Next to her, Heechul-oppa was rubbing Jungsoo-oppa’s hair firmly with his own towel, leaving it a chaotic mess but getting it sufficiently dry. Jungsoo-oppa returned the favor, and the result was a white-blonde mop of hair on Heechul-oppa’s head, ridiculously ruffled thanks to its length and the rather voluminous amount of hair that the self-proclaimed Universe Superstar had.

“We’d better get dressed,” Taeyeon commented as they left the bathroom, her making sure to leave the door open to let the condensation of their shower escape. The three of them shuffled down to the bedroom, and Taeyeon slid her underwear on and left the two men to put on their clothes in favor of dipping into her closet in search of something comfortable to put on at home. She found a long-sleeved grey cotton shirt that reached her upper thighs hanging a little bit from the entrance of the closet. Satisfied with the discovery, she slipped it on, pleased when the material settled loosely, not molding against the shape of her body. She didn’t bother to put on a bra or pants – Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa had already done much more than see her naked, so what was the point?

She came out of the closet to see the two men looking around a tad bit awkwardly, wearing nothing but their boxers and showing no signs of trying to put on their other clothes. Taeyeon’s brow furrowed. “Aren’t you going to get dressed?” It wasn’t like they could go back home dressed in nothing but their underwear. She stifled the brief surge of amusement at the thought of what a scandal that would cause. The media would absolutely explode.

“Well,” Heechul-oppa said, a hint of uncharacteristic uncertainty in his voice. “I was actually wondering if we could spend the night. I’m pretty sure he was, too,” he added, glancing at Jungsoo-oppa, who nodded a sheepish yes, looking the smallest bit embarrassed to be admitting that he had, in fact, been thinking the same thing.

Taeyeon blinked. Spend the night? She hadn’t expected that. She’d expected them to be on their way as soon as they were cleaned up, their business with each other done.

But it wasn’t like she didn’t want them to stay, either. In fact, it might be nice. If there was anything this night was proving to her it was that many things that she’d thought might be a hassle to do together were actually proving to be rather pleasant with other people. Or maybe not all other people, but they certainly were pleasant with the two men in front of her.

“That’s fine,” Taeyeon decided out loud. “As long as you both brush your teeth. I’ve got some spare toothbrushes – I’ll get them for you. And wait,” she paused, looking over the two of them, “are you really going to sleep in just your boxers?”

“Looks like we’ll have to,” Jungsoo-oppa replied, looking happy that she had said yes. “It’s not like we can sleep in the clothes we wore on the way here.”

“Won’t you be cold?”

“Not if it’s us three,” said Super Junior’s leader cheekily. Taeyeon rolled her eyes as Heechul-oppa wrinkled his nose, cringing at his friend’s comment.

Like she’d said, she got out the spare toothbrushes and informed the two men – but not before brushing her teeth herself, as she wasn’t willing to wait until they got around to it. After that, as Jungsoo-oppa and Heechul-oppa were brushing their teeth, she brought out two spare pillows from the closet and arranged them on the mattress, getting ready for a night spent huddled up with two of her closest male friends.

A brief thought flashed through her mind – she could only imagine how furiously scandalized her father would have been if he’d been alive to hear about this. Not that she would have told him, even if he had been – she doubted she would have told much of anything to that man. He was never a good person to go to for comfort, and she could only imagine he’d be a much worse person to go to with the news that she’d just had a threesome. He’d considered sex before marriage an atrocious fault enough; how much more appalled would he be to hear that she had sex with two men at the same time without even being romantically involved with them?

Still, Taeyeon reflected at she flopped down in the bed, maybe he wouldn’t have let his fury and disgust show. He’d never been someone who let her know his feelings ever since her mother had passed away. For all she could imagine he would probably just have made a single flippant comment about her being out of her mind before hanging up, walking away – disengaging himself with her, whatever that entailed doing.

She was so busy wondering how her father would have reacted – or if he would have reacted at all, that was the real question, she thought with grim amusement – that she didn’t notice Heechul-oppa until he flopped down on the bedside to her left. “You were thinking about something depressing,” he commented as he settled.

“What gave it away?” Taeyeon didn’t bother trying to deny it.

“Not sure. Just something about the way you were looking at the ceiling.” He rolled over onto his stomach and propped himself up by the elbows, staring at her blatantly. “What were you thinking of?”

The bedroom door, cracked open slightly, opened fully at that moment, and Jungsoo-oppa walked in, closing it behind him. “Yeah, what were you thinking of?” he asked, clearly having overheard the conversation.

Taeyeon hesitated, weighing her words. It was only until after Jungsoo-oppa settled on the bed at her right side that she spoke. “My dad.”

They fell silent. Both men knew about her father – the little she’d told them of him, anyway. She hadn’t had much to say about him because he’d never really revealed himself to her in a way that she could have understood back then. And now, even though she had a better grasp on the person that he had been, it was too late to pin down the full picture. Her father would always remain as he was in her head – someone who was so unbelievably clear after so many years, but simultaneously someone who didn’t even feel like a real person because of how murky and enigmatic he seemed. Taeyeon wondered if that had been his intention when he distanced himself from his children. Had he wanted them to remember him as only half of a full person?

Jungsoo-oppa reached under the covers and took her hand, squeezing it affectionately and bringing Taeyeon out of her thoughts. She was about to look over at him, slightly caught off-guard by the sudden action, but Heechul-oppa leaned over and kissed her forehead with surprising tenderness, letting his warm lips linger over her skin before he pulled back. Taeyeon moved her head from right to left, giving both men confused looks.

“What was that about?” she asked.

“We’re here now,” Jungsoo-oppa said simply. Heechul-oppa nodded.

Taeyeon’s lips curved upward into a small but genuine smile. “Thanks.” Her word was nothing more than a whisper, but there was no way they didn’t hear it, laying right next to her in the bed.

Her sleep that night was unusually deep. And in the morning, when Taeyeon sent the two of them off – but not before kissing both of them on the lips (starting with Heechul-oppa, since he’d greasily been sticking out his lips at her insisting on a goodbye kiss) – she found herself smiling. Small, but genuine.