Ｋｅｅｈｏｖｅｒｓｅ

Keeho mumbled something, his voice a low rumble in the quiet room.

"Huh?" you asked, your voice slightly breathless as you blinked yourself out of the daze.

He chuckled, a rich, vibrating sound, and finally looked up from his screen. "I asked if you wanted to go out for dinner tonight, beautiful."

"Oh. Yeah, sure," you nodded, but almost instantly, your eyes slid right back down to the shadow of his hip bones dipping beneath the waistband of his pants.

This time, he caught you. An amused eyebrow arched up, and he slowly stepped closer, the heat radiating from his bare skin practically brushing against your shoulder.

"Hey," he murmured, a smug grin tugging at the corner of his lips. "My eyes are up here."

You spun around in your vanity chair, looking up at him directly. Tilting your head, you let out a soft laugh. "You can't honestly expect me to focus when you walk in here looking like an Abercrombie & Fitch model."

Keeho’s smirk widened, his dark eyes glinting with mischief. He stepped even closer, his thighs brushing against your knees. "Please don't objectify me," he mocked, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "I am more than just a pretty body."

You let out a low laugh, your own smirk mirroring his. Leaning forward, you slid to the edge of your seat until you were at perfect eye level with his stomach. The view from here was dangerous—the defined ridges of his abs shifting slightly as he breathed.

You looked up at him through your lashes, your voice dropping to a raspy, quiet tone. "You cannot tell me that you don't absolutely love it."

Slowly, you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss right against his warm skin, just above his navel. The contact made his breath hitch. You pressed another kiss a little lower, your lips parting slightly against him, tasting the warmth of his skin.

Keeho let out a low groan, his smirk melting into something much hungrier. His fingers tangled gently into your hair, holding you in place as his hand rested against the back of your head.

"Okay," he whispered, his voice thick as he bit his lip, looking down at you with dark, heavy eyes. "Maybe I don't mind it at all."

Theo

You slammed the front door behind you, the lingering frustration from your shift vibrating through your entire body. You tossed your keys onto the entryway table with a loud clatter and kicked off your tight work shoes.

"Theo!" you called out, your voice laced with irritation.

"In the shower!" his muffled voice echoed from the end of the hallway.

You didn't care that he couldn't fully hear you; you just needed to vent. You marched toward the bedroom, shedding your heavy jacket and immediately launching into a rant. "You will not believe what my boss did today. I swear, that man exists solely to make my life a living hell. He dumped a mountain of paperwork on my desk ten minutes before clock-out time, and then had the absolute audacity to ask why I looked annoyed!"

You paced around the bedroom, gesturing wildly as you continued to ramble about how incredibly shitty your day was. Just as you were about to start on his ridiculous micro-managing, the bathroom door clicked open. A wave of warm, eucalyptus-scented steam spilled into the room, followed closely by Theo.

He had a single white towel wrapped loosely around his hips, sitting dangerously low. Water droplets still clung to his smooth skin, glistening under the bedroom lights as they slowly tracked down his broad shoulders and the defined planes of his chest.

"...and then he told me that I needed to—"

The words died in your throat. You slowly stopped pacing, your mouth parting slightly as your train of thought completely derailed. Your eyes locked onto a stray drop of water sliding down his collarbone, tracing the dip of his chest before disappearing into the soft fabric of the towel.

Theo stopped in his tracks, running a hand through his damp, dark hair to push it away from his forehead. He looked at you, a soft, sympathetic expression on his face. "Did you have a bad day, sweetgirl?"

You stared at his wet, glistening torso, your throat suddenly feeling incredibly dry. You swallowed heavily, your mind a complete blank. "I... I don't remember," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

Theo chuckled, a low, resonant sound that sent a shiver straight down your spine. He stepped closer, the radiating warmth of his freshly showered body immediately enveloping you. He reached out and placed his hands on your hips, his thumbs gently rubbing soothing circles through the fabric of your work pants.

"Tell you what," he murmured, his dark eyes sparkling with amusement. "Let me put some clothes on first, and then you can tell me exactly what he did. Okay?"

You hummed in response, but your hands had already made up their mind. Abandoning all thoughts of your terrible boss, you let your fingertips rest against his chest. Slowly, deliberately, you let them wander downward, tracing the hard, warm contours of his abs until your hands reached the damp knot of the towel resting on his hip.

You looked up, locking eyes with him, a playful spark returning to your gaze. "Or...," you rasped, "We can do the talking afterwards."

A slow, wicked smirk spread across Theo's face. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you flush against his bare, warm skin.

"Well" he whispered, his voice dropping an octave as his eyes darkened with sudden heat. "I guess we can do that."

You smirked back, your fingers hooking into the damp knot of the towel and slowly starting to pull it loose.

Jiung

The heat inside the apartment was thick, oppressive, and heavy enough to make every breath feel like breathing in steam. Outside, a record-breaking heatwave had turned the city into an oven, and to make matters worse, your ancient air conditioning unit had chosen today to completely die.

Jiung was absolutely convinced he was the man for the job. He stood in front of the open wall unit, the heavy service manual propped up on a shelf nearby. He was frantically waving a screwdriver around in the air as he pointed at a diagram on the page.

"Jiung, babe, please just call a professional," you groaned from your spot on the couch, pulling the collar of your tank top to fan yourself. "You’re going to give yourself heatstroke."

"And pay them an insane amount of money for something I can easily do myself? I don't think so," Jiung protested, shaking his head stubbornly as he reached back into the wall unit. "I am very much capable of fixing a simple fan motor. Just watch."

You gave him a highly skeptical look but sighed, leaning back against the cushions to let him try. Predictably, it didn't take long for the frustration to set in. Within twenty minutes, his confident posture vanished. Jiung was huffing, running a hand through his damp hair, and letting out a string of creative curses at the wiring. You watched him from the couch, entirely amused by his stubborn battle against the machine.

Finally, he let out a loud groan, straightening his back with a sharp wince. He used the back of his forearm to wipe a thick bead of sweat from his forehead.

"You okay over there, Mr. Mechanic?" you asked, a teasing smirk on your lips.

Jiung nodded, exhaling a hot breath. "Yeah. Just... burning up." Without another word, he gripped the hem of his t-shirt and pulled it over his head, tossing it onto the floor.

The amusement in your chest instantly melted into pure heat. You swallowed hard, your eyes locking onto his bare torso. A glistening sheen of sweat covered his skin, making the defined muscles of his chest and abs catch the dim light. As he leaned forward again to look inside the unit, you watched a single droplet trace a slow line down his spine, cutting straight across the intricate ink of his back tattoo.

Suddenly, the broken AC didn't matter at all. A wave of desire crashed over you, heavy and demanding.

Slowly, you pushed yourself up from the couch. Your bare feet made no sound on the floor as you walked over to him, your eyes glued to the sharp flex of his shoulder blades as his arms moved while he tinkered with a wire. You bit your lip hard, the view making your core ache.

"Jiung," you rasped, your voice suddenly thick.

"Hmm?" he muttered, not looking away from the wall.

"Take a break. Come cool off for a minute."

He sighed, shaking his head. "I'm fine, jagi. If I stop now, I'll lose my spot."

"You're completely frustrated, and you're sweating through your clothes," you countered softly, stepping right up behind him. "You need to wind down a little."

Jiung paused, the screwdriver hovering in the air. He let out a long, defeated sigh and finally turned around to face you, leaning his lower back slightly against the wall. "Alright, fine. I might be a little stressed—"

He cut himself off when you stepped directly into his space. Reaching down, you softly grabbed the waistband of his shorts, your fingers brushing against his heated skin, and gently pulled him closer to you.

"Maybe I could help you with that," you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes.

Jiung’s eyes darkened instantly, his interest thoroughly piqued. An eyebrow slid up as his gaze dropped to your lips, his hands automatically coming up to grip your waist. "Oh yeah?"

You softly leaned in, your chest brushing against his bare torso as you pressed a lingering kiss right over his burning collarbone, inhaling the masculine, musk-scented heat of his skin.

"I might have a few ideas," you rasped against his skin, parting your lips to press another open-mouthed kiss just below his jaw.

A slow, wicked smirk spread across Jiung's face. Abandoning the screwdriver completely, his grip on your waist tightened, pulling you firmly against him. "In that case," he whispered, his voice dangerously low, "Let's hear'em."

Intak

The soft, ambient music of the high-end boutique hummed in the background, but your focus was entirely on the row of changing rooms. Intak was inside, stubbornly trying to find the perfect fit, while you wandered the nearby racks, picking out a few more button-down dressing shirts in shades of deep forest green and slate grey that you knew would look incredible on him.

Balancing the hangers on your arm, you made your way back to his stall. "Intak? I found a few more for you to try," you called out softly.

The heavy velvet curtain slid open. You expected to see him fully dressed, but instead, your breath hitched. He stood there in a crisp, white dressing shirt—completely unbuttoned. The stark white fabric parted wide, putting his entire chest and the sculpted, defined planes of his stomach on full display. A few stray droplets of sweat from the warm afternoon clung to his collarbone, catching the harsh light of the dressing room.

Your brain short-circuited. Your eyes drifted down his chest, tracing the sharp lines of his abs, utterly captivated.

Intak started talking, his lips moving as he gestured to the shirts in your hand, but his voice was just static in your ears. All you could focus on was the smooth expanse of his bare skin.

"Hey," he said, his voice dropping to a soft, amused murmur. He reached out, his warm fingers brushing against yours. "You can let go of the shirts now."

You blinked, suddenly realizing you were still clutching the hangers with a white-knuckled grip. A hot blush rushed to your cheeks as you quickly let go, handing them over.

Intak let out a low chuckle, his eyes twinkling with pure mischief. He gave you a slow, deliberate wink before pulling the curtain shut, leaving you staring at the heavy fabric.

For a few seconds, you stood frozen in the hallway. The image of his bare chest, framed by the white cotton, was branded into your mind, sending a sudden, heavy wave of heat straight to your core. Your heart hammered against your ribs. Hesitating for only a moment longer, you reached out, gripped the edge of the curtain, and stepped inside the cramped changing room.

Intak spun around, his eyes widening in surprise as the curtain fell shut behind you. He was in the middle of slipping off the white shirt. "Oh, hey. What's wrong?"

You didn't answer. You stepped directly into his space, your hands flying up to grab the stiff collar of his unbuttoned shirt. Before he could utter another word, you pulled him down and kissed him desperately.

Intak let out a muffled groan of surprise against your lips, but his hands instinctively found your waist, squeezing tightly. The kiss was messy, hot, and urgent, your tongue instantly tangling with his as you poured all of your sudden, intense desire into him.

He managed to pull back just a fraction of an inch, his chest heaving as he gasped for air. "Wait... we're in public," he mumbled against your lips, his voice thick and strained. "Someone's going to hear."

You didn't care. Your fingers gripped the fabric of his shirt even tighter, and with a sudden, aggressive tug, you yanked the shirt down and off his broad shoulders, pinning his arms slightly to his sides.

"Then we better be quiet," you rasped, looking up at him with dark, hooded eyes.

Intak stared down at you, his eyes blown wide, his breath hitching at your sudden dominance. A heavy, charged silence filled the small stall before a low, dark growl escaped his throat. He surrendered completely. Ducking his head, he kissed you again with a fierce, possessive hunger, his hands dropping from your waist to feel blindly behind him, securing the heavy curtain and pulling it tightly closed to shut out the rest of the world.

Soul

The bass from the studio speakers vibrated through the floorboards, a heavy, rhythmic pulse that filled the spacious room. Soul was in the middle of the floor, completely locked into the groove as he ran through the new choreography for the third time.

You sat on the plush leather couch at the back of the room, scrolling lazily through your phone but looking up every few minutes to watch him move. Even in practice, his movements were sharp, fluid, and mesmerizing. Every time he caught you looking, a faint, fleeting smile would tug at his lips before he quickly snapped back into his zone.

Feeling the chill of the air conditioning, you stood up and slipped out to the restroom. When you returned a few minutes later and pushed the heavy studio door open, you instantly froze.

The music was still playing, but Soul had discarded his soaked t-shirt onto the floor. He was simply vibing to the beat, his body swaying smoothly as he marked the steps. The harsh overhead studio lights caught the sweat glistening on his pale skin, accentuating the lean, surprisingly defined muscles of his back and shoulders as he rolled his hips to the rhythm.

You stopped right in your tracks, leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. "Is that part of the choreography now?"

Soul spun around, startled, but a bright laugh immediately broke across his face. He shook his head, running a hand through his damp hair. "Haven't you heard?" he teased, his voice raised over the music as he gave you a sarcastic look. "Ticket sales aren't doing that well. Management said we have to take some pretty drastic measures to sell out the next tour."

You burst out laughing, shaking your head at his ridiculousness as you walked back over and collapsed onto the couch. "Well, it's a bold strategy."

"I do my best," he grinned, turning back to the mirrors.

As he restarted the track, your phone remained entirely forgotten on the cushion beside you. Your eyes were locked onto his bare torso, tracing the sharp line of his collarbones and the way his abdominal muscles contracted with every sudden, powerful movement of the dance.

After a few minutes, Soul transitioned out of a spin, catching your intense gaze in the mirror. He slowly stopped dancing, a knowing smirk creeping onto his face as he turned around to face you.

"You aren't on your phone anymore," he pointed out, crossing his arms over his bare chest, which rose and fell with his heavy breathing.

You let out a soft chuckle, leaning back against the cushions. "I have a significantly better view now. Can you blame me?"

His smirk widened into something a little more mischievous. Slowly, he sauntered over to the couch, his feet padding softly over the wood. He stopped right in front of you, towering over your seated form, his body radiating a intoxicating, clean heat. He looked down at you, his dark eyes hooded. "So, do you like the new marketing strategy?"

Your breath hitched at his proximity. Biting your lip, you pushed yourself up, getting onto your knees on the couch cushions so you were almost at eye level with him. You reached out, your fingertips lightly brushing against his damp, warm ribs, sending a visible shiver through him.

"I think the strategy is incredible," you murmured, looking up at him through your lashes. "But... I really hope it's for my eyes only."

Soul’s grin softened into something deeply fond and fiercely possessive. He reached out, his warm, slightly damp hands cupping your face, his thumbs stroking over your cheekbones.

"It is," he whispered, his voice suddenly thick and low as he leaned down. "Only for you, always."

He kissed you then—a deep, urgent press of his lips that tasted like the warmth of the studio and pure desire. Before you could even catch your breath, his hands slid down to your shoulders, and he gently but firmly pushed you backward, sending you tumbling flat onto the leather couch as his heavy, bare body followed you down.

Jongseob

The quiet hum of the apartment was comforting as you went about your afternoon chores. You carried a heavy plastic basket of laundry balanced against your hip, softly humming a random melody under your breath to pass the time. With the apartment complex’s shared laundry room located on the lower level, you nudged the door open with your foot and began walking down the concrete steps into the cool, dimly lit basement.

When you reached the bottom and stepped into the washing machine area, you instantly stopped in your tracks.

Jongseob was standing right in front of one of the machines. He was completely shirtless, his broad shoulders and lean, defined torso catching the stark overhead light. In his hands, he held a crumpled button-down shirt, turning it over with a focused frown. You stayed frozen for a moment, your eyes greedily taking in the smooth expanse of his bare chest and the sharp, athletic lines of his abdomen.

You cleared your throat softly to announce your presence.

Jongseob’s head snapped up, and a warm, immediate smile broke across his face when he saw you. "Hey," he said, holding up the fabric. "I spilled some coffee on this earlier. I’m trying to figure out how to get the stain out before it sets, but I have no idea what settings to use."

A slow smirk played on your lips as you set your laundry basket down on a nearby table. You walked over to him, your eyes deliberately trailing down his torso once more. "Honestly? You can take your time. I really don’t mind you walking around the basement shirtless."

He let out a low chuckle, a soft blush creeping up his neck, though he shook his head with an amused smile. "I appreciate the compliment, but I really like this shirt. Help me out here."

You stepped closer into his space, taking the edge of the fabric from his hands to inspect the dark blemish near the collar. You tried to focus on the care label, but with him standing so close, the clean, warm scent of his skin completely clouded your thoughts. Your gaze helplessly drifted right back to his bare chest, watching the slight rise and fall of his breathing.

Jongseob noticed your wandering eyes almost instantly. An amused, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and he let go of the shirt entirely, crossing his bare arms. "Something tells me you aren’t really listening to a word I’m saying about the stain."

A sudden wave of heat rushed to your cheeks, but you didn't look away. You met his dark, hooded eyes directly. "Can you blame me?" you asked, your voice dropping a little lower.

His smirk widened, melting into something much more intense. He stepped even closer, completely trapping you between his heated body and the edge of the washing machine. The proximity was intoxicating. He reached out, his fingers lightly trailing down the side of your neck, sending a fierce shiver straight to your core.

"So," he murmured, his voice a low, raspy rumble that vibrated against your skin. "Are you going to help me with my shirt or not?"

You let out a soft, defeated sigh, completely abandoning the ruined fabric as it dropped onto the lid of the machine. You looked up at him through your lashes, your hands reaching up to grip his bare, warm shoulders.

"I’ll just buy you a new one," you whispered.

Before he could even reply, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, kissing him hungrily. Jongseob groaned into the kiss, his arms instantly wrapping securely around your waist to pull you flush against his bare skin, completely forgetting about the laundry as the basement around you vanished.

₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊₊˚⊹♡⊹˚₊₊˚⊹♡

@dreamerliya

@jiungs-wednesdaygirl

@alienslostinworld

@cheezeit-k

@halaziasupremacy

Suddenly, Keeho let out a wide, theatrical yawn that belonged in a silent comedy. He stretched his arms up high, his long fingers reaching toward the ceiling. You watched him out of the corner of your eye as he slowly lowered his right arm, aiming for your shoulder.

But mid-descent, he froze.

You could almost see the internal panic alarm blaring behind his eyes. What if she thinks I'm moving too fast? What if this is too cliché? At the last second, he chickened out. Instead of wrapping his arm around you, he let it drop onto the back of the sofa, hovering just behind your head. He stared straight ahead at the TV, his posture completely rigid, pretending his arm was just naturally resting there.

You turned your head to glance at his arm, then looked up at his profile. He was biting his lower lip, trying so hard to look nonchalant while practically sweating bullets.

A soft sigh escaped your lips—a mix of amusement and pure fondness. Deciding he had suffered through enough anticipation, you reached up, grabbed his large hand, and firmly pulled his arm down so it draped over your shoulders.

Keeho stiffened for a fraction of a second, his breath hitching in his throat. He slowly turned his head to look down at you, his eyes wide with surprise, as if he couldn't believe you had just made the move for him. You caught his gaze, gave him a playful wink, and let a knowing smirk play on your lips.

The tension instantly drained from his shoulders. A breathless, incredibly relieved laugh bubbled out of him, his signature dimpled smile finally breaking through the anxious facade.

"You're too much," he mumbled, his voice a low, warm rumble. He tightened his grip, pulling you securely against his side and burying his face slightly in your hair. You leaned your head against his chest, listening to the steady, comforting beat of his heart as the movie faded entirely into the background, both of you finally relaxed in each other's space.

Theo

The tiny, dimly lit bistro you had dragged Theo to was known for its "experimental fusion cuisine," which apparently translated to serving food that looked like modern art and tasted like a dare. Plates of bizarre, unrecognizable dishes sat between the two of you, mostly half-eaten. You both had spent the last hour having the absolute time of your lives, whispering and giggling like schoolkids as you mercilessly judged and criticized every single bite.

"I'm convinced this green foam is just soap," Theo whispered, poking a suspicious-looking culinary creation with his fork. His sharp eyes crinkled with amusement as he looked across the table at you. "And the purple puree tastes like dirt. Exquisite, expensive dirt."

You let out a quiet wheeze of laughter, wiping a tear from your eye. "Hey, the menu called it 'deconstructed earth.' They didn't lie!"

By the time the main courses were cleared, you were both still hungry but thoroughly entertained. To make up for the questionable meal, Theo ordered a massive, decadent chocolate milkshake that looked remarkably normal compared to everything else.

When the glass arrived, topped with a mountain of whipped cream and a cherry, Theo’s eyes lit up. He sat up straighter, cleared his throat, and immediately slipped into an over-the-top persona.

"Ah, yes," he murmured, swirling the glass slightly with a hand held delicately in the air. He adopted a pompous, highly exaggerated accent. "Observe the delicate structural integrity of the whipped cream. The chef has truly captured the essence of dairy. Let us analyze the olfactory profile..." He leaned down, sniffing the shake with extreme gravity.

You chuckled at his antics, resting your chin in your hands. "Well, Mr. Critic? Is it worthy of your palate?"

"It remains to be seen," Theo declared, holding back a grin.

Before he could actually take a sip, you decided to make your move. You swiftly reached across the table, grabbed a spare paper straw from the holder, and unwrapped it. Leaning far over the small table, you plunged your straw straight into his milkshake, right next to his.

Because the table was so small, leaning in brought your face mere inches from his. The sudden proximity caught him completely off guard. Theo's dramatic speech cut off mid-sentence, his eyes widening slightly as he stared at you. You kept your gaze locked onto his as you wrapped your lips around the straw and took a slow, deliberate sip.

A soft pink hue bloomed on Theo’s cheeks, a stark contrast to his usual cool, collected demeanor. His breath caught in his throat, his gaze dropping to your lips and then darting back up to your eyes, entirely captivated by how close your faces were.

You slowly leaned back into your seat, a satisfied hum vibrating in your throat. "Actually, that is pretty good. Much better than the deconstructed earth."

Theo blinked, slowly recovering his composure. The blush remained on his cheeks, but a slow, knowing smirk began to play on his lips. He leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on the table.

"Okay, wow," he said, his voice dropping a fraction of an octave. "Your rizz is a solid ten out of ten. I see what you did there."

You let out a soft chuckle, keeping your eyes locked onto his. Without breaking eye contact, you gave him a slow, playful wink, and then deliberately licked the chocolate sweetness off the tip of your straw.

Theo let out a breathy, defeated laugh, shaking his head as his blush deepened. He took his own straw, completely flustered but wearing the happiest smile, and finally took a sip of his shake.

Jiung

The dim, cavernous theater was filled with the low murmur of the crowd and the smell of warm butter as you and Jiung settled into your seats. He spent a solid minute meticulously arranging your drinks in the cup holders and balancing the massive, overflowing bucket of popcorn on the armrest between you. When he finally leaned back, he sighed with deep satisfaction, looking like he had just successfully completed a major engineering project.

The lights began to slowly fade, and the booming audio of the first movie trailer rumbled through the speakers.

Jiung immediately looked at the mountain of popcorn, then turned his head to you, his eyes sparkling with mischief in the dim light. "Okay, I'm going to be completely honest with you," he whispered, leaning in closer so you could hear him over the sound system. "The trailers have literally just started, and I am already having a massive internal struggle to stop myself from eating this entire bucket before the actual movie even begins."

You let out a quiet laugh, nodding in agreement. "Honestly, same. It’s a real problem."

"A bet, then," Jiung suggested, a playful challenge in his voice. He crossed his arms, looking incredibly determined. "Let's see who can hold out the longest. The first one to reach into the bucket loses."

"You're on," you whispered back, matching his competitive grin.

For the next few minutes, the battle of wills was intense. Both of you kept your eyes glued to the bright screen, pretending to be absolutely fascinated by the upcoming action blockbusters, but neither of you was actually paying attention. Your hands remained strictly in your laps, but every few seconds, your eyes would involuntarily dart down to the golden popcorn sitting tantalizingly between you. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Jiung twitching, his fingers drumming against his knee as he stared straight ahead, clearly suffering.

Finally, you couldn't take it anymore. The smell of the butter was too distracting. Deciding that pride was highly overrated, you broke.

You swiftly reached your hand out and plunged it deep into the warm bucket. But the moment your fingers sank into the kernels, they brushed directly against a hand that was already buried there.

You froze and turned your head. Jiung was already looking at you, his hand completely caught red-handed in the exact same spot.

His eyes went wide, and a bright, intense blush immediately painted his cheeks, illuminated by the flashing lights of the screen. He pulled his hand back as if he had been burned, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh my god, I am so sorry!" he stammered in a hushed, panicked whisper, his voice cracking slightly. "I was trying to sneak a piece while you weren't looking. I didn't mean to—"

You cut him off with a soft chuckle, highly amused by how flustered he had gotten over a handful of popcorn. "Jiung, relax," you said, your voice warm. "I really don't mind at all. Besides, we both lost at the exact same time."

The sheer panic in his expression melted away, replaced by a soft, incredibly relieved smile. He watched you with a huge, fond grin as you reached back into the bucket, grabbed a single piece, and popped it into your mouth.

"Good," he murmured, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched your satisfied expression. "Because I was about to lose my mind."

With the ice thoroughly broken, Jiung reached in and took a handful of his own. You both turned your attention back to the screen, sitting a little closer than before, the silly bet forgotten as you happily shared the bucket in the cozy dark of the theater.

Intak

Flour dusted the kitchen counter, and the sink was already piling up with dirty whisks and measuring cups. Intak stood beside you, looking adorable yet incredibly stressed in an oversized apron that kept slipping off his shoulder. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving a faint streak of white powder near his temple.

"I am honestly so, so sorry about this," Intak said, his voice laced with genuine guilt. He looked down at you, his expressive eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Our date was supposed to be a nice dinner out, not manual labor. I just completely forgot my mom’s birthday was tomorrow, and I really wanted to make her something myself."

You laughed softly, nudging his side with your elbow. "Intak, stop apologizing. Seriously. I actually love baking, and this is way more fun than sitting in a crowded restaurant anyway."

A relieved grin broke across his face, though it quickly faltered as you both leaned over the tablet screen on the counter. The recipe was laid out in front of you, but the instructions might as well have been written in ancient hieroglyphics. You both stared at the screen, brows furrowed in matching expressions of deep confusion.

"Does 'fold in the flour' mean we just... fold the bowl?" Intak muttered, gesturing vaguely with his hands.

"I think it means we mix it gently, but honestly, your guess is as good as mine," you replied, turning your attention back to the bowl of frosting you had been attempting to whip up. You stared at the lumpy, slightly graying mixture and let out a laugh, pointing a spatula at it. "Well, the frosting is definitely a work in progress. It looks a little sad, doesn't it?"

Intak chuckled, stepping closer to inspect your work. Before you could stop him, he reached over to the main mixing bowl, swiped a long finger through the thick chocolate cake batter, and held it up. "What about this? Is the batter actually supposed to look this chunky?"

"Probably not," you admitted cheerfully, giving him a playful shrug. "But hey, it doesn't have to look perfect. It only has to taste good."

Intak stared at his batter-coated finger, his nose crinkling in skepticism. "I don't know... I'm really not sure about this."

Deciding to prove your point, you reached out and grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand closer. Before he could register what you were doing, you leaned in and licked the chocolate batter right off his finger.

Intak instantly froze. His eyes went incredibly wide, and his breath hitched as he stared down at you, completely paralyzed by the sudden contact. The tips of his ears flushed a bright, burning pink.

You slowly let go of his wrist, wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. A knowing smirk played on your lips as you held his intense gaze. "See? Told you. It’s actually really good."

Intak stood rooted to the spot for a beat, his heart practically hammering against his ribs. He quickly cleared his throat, tearing his eyes away for a split second to regain his composure. A happy, albeit incredibly nervous, smile stretched across his face. He tried to act cool, shifting his weight and leaning against the counter, but the blush creeping up his cheeks gave him away entirely.

You let out a quiet chuckle, highly amused by his reaction, and turned back to your frosting bowl to get right back to work.

Soul (God I love him)

The scorching heat of the afternoon had finally dissolved, leaving behind a crisp, refreshing breeze that swept through the quiet streets. The sky overhead was a deep, velvet gradient of twilight, painted with soft brushstrokes of violet and orange. You and Soul walked side-by-side along the paved path of the quiet park, the gentle rustle of the leaves above keeping you company.

"It’s so much better out here now," you said, letting out a relaxed breath as you adjusted your light jacket. "During the day, the sun was practically melting me."

Soul nodded, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his baggy cargo pants. He looked up at the sky, his sharp features softened by the dimming light. "Feel that. I felt like a potato being baked in an oven. If I stayed out there any longer, you would have had to carry me home in a bucket."

You burst out laughing, the mental image of a melted Soul too funny to ignore. He looked over at you, a satisfied, mischievous grin playing on his lips. Encouraged by your reaction, he immediately launched into another bizarre, deadpan joke about the sun having a personal vendetta against him, gesturing dramatically with his shoulders. You laughed so hard your chest ached, the sound echoing softly in the quiet evening air. Soul’s unique, quirky humor never failed to brighten your mood, turning a simple evening stroll into your favorite part of the day.

As the laughter quieted down into a comfortable, easy silence, you looked over at his profile. He was looking ahead, a soft, content expression on his face.

"You know, I really like spending time with you, Soul," you said softly, the words slipping out naturally.

He paused for a brief second, his steps slowing slightly. He turned his head to look at you, his eyes wide with a gentle sort of surprise. Then, a genuinely warm, sweet smile stretched across his face, reaching all the way to his eyes. "I like spending time with you too. A lot. You're the only one who actually appreciates my top-tier comedy."

You both shared a quiet smile, the atmosphere between you shifting into something incredibly warm and intimate. You continued walking, but the space between you felt smaller now. Your shoulders brushed occasionally with every step you took.

Your heart did a nervous little flutter in your chest as you looked down at his arm swinging gently by his side. Gathering your courage, you slowly let your hand drift closer to his. Your fingers brushed lightly against the back of his hand first, testing the waters. When he didn't pull away, you slowly slid your fingers down, letting your hand slide fully into his until your fingers loosely, comfortably intertwined.

Soul stopped walking entirely.

He looked down at your joined hands, his gaze fixed on where your fingers were locked together. For a second, you wondered if you had moved too fast. You held your breath, your heart hammering against your ribs.

"Is this okay?" you asked softly, looking up at him.

Soul tore his eyes away from your hands and looked up into your face. The tips of his ears were dusted with a prominent pink blush, but his expression was incredibly soft. He squeezed your hand gently, a small, bright smile breaking through his initial shock.

"It is," he murmured, his voice quiet but filled with absolute certainty. He lifted your joined hands slightly, his smile widening. "More than okay."

He didn't let go. With his hand firmly holding yours, you both started walking again, the cool evening air suddenly feeling very warm.

Jongseob

The heavy wooden door of your apartment clicked shut behind you, sealing out the cool evening air. You and Jongseob kicked off your shoes at the entryway, both of you clutching the freshly scooped waffle cones you had grabbed from the parlor down the street.

As you walked into the kitchen, you took a happy bite of your ice cream, letting out a satisfied hum. Jongseob, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, watched you with a raised eyebrow and a highly dramatic, judgmental look on his face.

"I still can't believe you actually ordered butterscotch toffee," he said, a teasing smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. "It literally tastes like grandma’s candy bowl. Out of all the flavors in the world, you chose that?"

You let out a loud laugh, pointing your spoon at him defensively. "Hey! Do not judge my life choices, Jongseob. Especially not when you are standing there holding that." You gestured toward his cup. "You literally like flavors like salted caramel and Dubai chocolate. Talk about being incredibly extra."

"Excuse me? Those are sophisticated, elite flavors," he retorted, his eyes sparkling with amusement. He took a slow step closer, holding his cup out toward you with a daring grin. "And if you're going to hate on my superior taste, you should at least back it up. Go ahead, try some before you judge."

It was a playful challenge, and you weren't one to back down.

Instead of taking a polite spoonful like he probably expected, you locked your eyes directly onto his. You took a deliberate step forward, closing the distance between you. Without breaking eye contact for even a second, you leaned in and took a bold, slow lick right from his ice cream.

Jongseob’s smirk instantly vanished.

His eyes widened in genuine surprise, and a faint, sudden blush rushed to his cheeks. He stood completely frozen, his breath hitching slightly in his throat. He clearly hadn't expected you to be quite that bold, and the sudden proximity had caught him entirely off guard.

For a moment, the kitchen was quiet, save for the hum of the refrigerator.

You slowly leaned back, savoring the rich flavor, and flashed him a highly pleased grin.

Recovering his composure, Jongseob shook his head, a slow, incredibly charming smirk returning to his face. He looked down at your cone, his gaze flickering back up to your eyes with a playful, challenging glint. He took a half-step closer, tilting his head.

"Okay, fair play," he murmured, his voice dropping to a softer, teasing register. He nodded at your waffle cone. "So... are you going to let me try yours as well, or are you going to keep all the grandma candy to yourself?"

You let out a soft chuckle, stepping past him toward the living room. You paused just out of arm's reach, turning around to look at him over your shoulder. You shrugged your shoulders innocently, wearing a knowing smirk.

"Hmm, I don't know," you replied, your voice dripping with mock sweetness. "I'll think about it."

Jongseob let out a quiet, defeated laugh, shaking his head as he followed you, the easy, playful tension between you lingering in the air.

⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎ ⋆ ⚰︎⚰︎ ⋆

@dreamerliya

@jiungs-wednesdaygirl

@alienslostinworld

@cheezeit-k

@halaziasupremacy

The members instantly lit up. Keeho let out an appreciative "Oh, wow! Thank you!" while Jiung and Intak bowed slightly with grateful smiles. Right next to them, Soul caught your eye. He didn't say a word, but a soft, knowing smile spread across his face, his dark eyes sparkling with quiet amusement as he looked at you.

You chatted with the guys for another minute or two, exchanging light banter about their flight and how they were liking the venue. The initial awkwardness melted away, replaced by their surprisingly easygoing nature.

"Alright, everyone! We're rolling in thirty seconds!" the director called out, shattering the comfortable bubble.

Panic flashed through you for a split second. You quickly raised a hand to fix your hair, patting down a few stray flyaways and ensuring your microphone was perfectly clipped. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Jongseob and Soul exchange a quick, silent look. Jongseob nudged Soul’s shoulder, a subtle, amused smirk playing on his lips, while Soul simply tilted his head, his eyes lingering on you for a beat longer before they both turned their attention to the main camera.

"Three, two, one... and action!"

The interview went better than you could have ever anticipated. Your questions were sharp but engaging, moving away from the standard, repetitive prompts they usually faced. You brought up deep-cut B-sides, asked about their choreography creation process, and matched their chaotic energy with a charming, quick-witted attitude.

Theo laughed loudly at one of your jokes, and Keeho kept nodding in thorough appreciation of your research. Jongseob answered your questions with his characteristic eloquence, his eyes locked onto yours as he spoke, thoroughly engaged in the conversation. Every time you glanced at Soul, he gave you an enthusiastic nod or a funny little facial expression that kept you grounded and smiling. The chemistry between you and the group was palpable, the exact kind of magic a journalist always hoped to capture on screen.

"And cut! That was perfect, everyone," the director called out, breaking the spell. "We need to reset the cameras to get a few different coverage angles and B-roll shots. Give us about ten minutes. Everyone stay in your places if possible."

You let out a breath you felt like you’d been holding the entire time, your shoulders dropping in relief. You turned back to the boys, who were already relaxing back into the couch cushions.

"You guys did amazing," you said, genuinely impressed. "Thank you for being so easy to work with."

"No, thank you! Your questions were actually really cool," Jongseob replied warmly, leaning forward with his elbows resting on his knees.

Wanting to keep the conversation flowing during the downtime, you tilted your head. "So, how long are you guys going to be staying in the city?"

"We're here for a full week, actually," Jiung answered, stretching his arms out over the back of the sofa. "We have a few more promotions, but we actually have a little bit of downtime scheduled too."

You nodded understandingly, a playful spark igniting in your chest. "Oh, nice! Are you guys actually going to have some fun in the city then, or just stay in the hotel?"

The boys chuckled collectively. Keeho raised an eyebrow, a mischievous grin on his face. "We want to, but we don't really know where to go. Why, do you have some suggestions for us?"

You laughed, completely caught up in the relaxed, friendly atmosphere. Without thinking it through, the words tumbled out of your mouth with a playful shrug: "Oh, absolutely. Honestly, I'm up for anything."

The words hung in the air for a fraction of a second before the realization hit you like a freight train.

I'm up for anything.

In the context of suggesting tour locations, it was supposed to mean you were open to brainstorming any kind of activity. But spoken out loud to a group of handsome idols, in a dropped, casual tone? It sounded entirely, undeniably like an open-ended invitation. Or worse, a blatant flirtation.

Silence descended briefly over the couch.

Keeho’s eyes widened slightly in pure amusement. Intak smothered a laugh into his hand. You felt the heat instantly rush from the tips of your toes straight up to your face. Your cheeks flamed a bright, furious crimson, the intense warmth making your ears tingle.

"I—I mean!" you stammered, your professional composure completely evaporating. You waved your hands frantically in front of you, desperately trying to reel the words back in. "Activities! I meant activities! Like museums, or bowling, or—or restaurants! I am up for suggesting anything. Not—not the other thing!"

Jongseob burst into a bright, dazzling smile. He threw his head back for a brief second, his laugh ringing out clearly in the studio. He looked at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners with genuine delight at how thoroughly flustered you had become. He found your sudden loss of words incredibly endearing, a stark contrast to the incredibly poised journalist who had just run a flawless interview.

Beside him, Soul didn't laugh out loud. Instead, he leaned back into the cushions, crossing his arms over his chest. His dark eyes locked onto yours, slowly eyeing you up and down with a slow, deliberate smirk spreading across his lips. It wasn't mean; it was purely playful, a silent acknowledgment that he thoroughly enjoyed watching you squirm under his gaze.

You shook your head in sheer embarrassment, burying your face in your hands for a brief second to hide the blazing red color of your skin. You could hear the boys chuckling softly at your reaction, their teasing but gentle nature making the moment a hundred times more intense.

"Oh my god," you muttered under your breath, completely mortified.

Desperate for an escape route, you whipped your head around toward the camera crew, who were still adjusting a tripod a few feet away.

"Can we—can we please continue production?" you called out, your voice a little higher than usual as you pleaded with the crew. "Whenever you guys are ready! We are good to go over here!"

Jongseob’s bright smile didn't fade, and Soul’s smirk only deepened as they watched you try to regain your footing. You took another deep breath, fanning your face with your tablet, knowing that no matter how professional the rest of the shoot went, you were never going to live this down in their memories.

The quiet hum of the air conditioner was the only sound filling your hotel room as the evening stretched on. The desk lamp cast a warm, focused glow over your open notepad, where messy scribbles detailing the highlights of the day’s interview were scattered across the pages. By all professional accounts, the feature was going to be a massive success for your outlet. The chemistry had been perfect, the answers were fresh, and the raw footage looked incredible.

Yet, instead of focusing solely on your article outline, you found your fingers hovering over your laptop trackpad, clicking through YouTube. You told yourself it was for additional research—just ensuring your background context was entirely accurate. But as a video clip of P1Harmony from a recent variety show started playing, you knew you were lying to yourself.

Your eyes kept drifting to two specific members.

You watched the way Jongseob spoke, his quick wit and sharp intellect evident even in casual games, always carrying himself with an articulate, grounded grace that you had felt firsthand earlier that afternoon. Then the camera panned to Soul, who was doing something entirely unbothered and chaotic in the background, making the rest of the members burst into laughter.

The memory of the studio downtime flashed vividly in your mind. You remembered the exact shade of crimson your face had turned when those words—I'm up for anything—had slipped out of your mouth. More than that, you remembered the way Jongseob’s eyes had crinkled into a brilliant, breathless laugh, and how Soul had simply leaned back, tracking your flustered movements with that slow, amused smirk.

A sudden wave of heat rushed to your cheeks. You caught your reflection in the darkened window pane of your hotel room, realizing with a jolt that you were sitting alone in the dark, blushing at the mere thought of them.

"Get a grip," you muttered to yourself, snapping the laptop screen shut.

The walls of the room suddenly felt a little too close, the silence a little too loud for an overthinker's mind. You knew that if you stayed up here, you would spend the next three hours overanalyzing a five-minute interaction until you completely lost your mind. You needed a distraction. You needed background noise, moving bodies, and a change of scenery to ground you back into your professional reality.

Deciding that the hotel lobby would be the perfect sanctuary, you packed your laptop, charger, and notepad into your bag.

The elevator ride down was quick and quiet. When the doors slid open, the ambient atmosphere of the lobby instantly washed over you. It was a sophisticated, dimly lit space with high ceilings, plush velvet armchairs, and a low murmur of conversation coming from a few scattered guests and the hotel bar. It was exactly what you needed—enough life to keep your thoughts from drifting, but quiet enough to let you focus.

You scanned the room and settled on a small, secluded table tucked near a large architectural pillar, offering a bit of privacy while still keeping you in the middle of the ambient space. You set up your laptop, opened your notepad, and neatly laid out your pens.

A waiter approached a few minutes later, and you ordered a glass of white wine, hoping it would help soothe the lingering tightly wound energy from the afternoon.

For the next hour, your plan worked flawlessly. The ambient noise of clinking glasses and muted footsteps provided a steady rhythm for your thoughts. You fell into a productive flow, typing out paragraphs, structuring the flow of the social media post, and selecting the best quotes from Keeho and Jiung. You took occasional sips of your wine, barely noticing as the glass emptied while your word count grew.

You were right in the middle of a sentence when the waiter quietly reappeared at the edge of your table. Without a word, he reached down, picked up your empty glass, and smoothly replaced it with a fresh, full one.

You blinked, looking up from your screen in surprise. A amused chuckle escaped your lips. "Oh, thank you, but I haven't ordered another one yet. Did you already expect me to need a refill?"

The waiter offered a polite, knowing smile and shook his head. "Actually, this isn't from the house. It's from a gentleman."

Your brow furrowed slightly, a sudden prickle of curiosity making you sit up a little straighter. You glanced around the immediate area, but the nearby tables were mostly empty or occupied by couples. "A gentleman? From who?"

The waiter gave a small, non-committal shrug, keeping his professional demeanor. "He didn't leave a name or a message, miss. He simply paid for the premium pour and asked me to serve it to you."

"Oh. Well... thank you," you murmured, still entirely bewildered.

Once the waiter bowed and walked away, you stared at the pale golden liquid swirling in the glass. A part of you felt a momentary flash of caution, but looking around the upscale, highly secure hotel lobby, you figured it was likely just a harmless, old-school gesture from someone who had noticed a journalist working late.

You picked up the glass and took a cautious, slow sip.

Your eyes widened slightly. It was entirely different from the house wine you had ordered first. It was crisp, perfectly chilled, with complex notes of stone fruit and a subtle, refined sweetness that lingered elegantly on your palate. It was, without a doubt, incredibly good.

"Well, whoever he is, he has expensive taste," you whispered to yourself.

Shrugging off the mystery, you set the glass down and turned your attention back to your laptop. The deadline wasn't going to meet itself, and the high-quality wine provided an excellent fuel source for your writing.

Time slipped away. Outside the expansive glass windows of the lobby, the twilight hues of deep blue completely melted into a pitch-black night, illuminated only by the distant city streetlights. The lobby grew quieter, the crowd thinning out until only a few night owls remained.

Your eyes began to burn from the harsh glare of the monitor. Sensing that you were hitting a wall, you decided it was time for a proper break. You saved your document, leaned back heavily against the cushioned back of your chair, and interlocked your fingers to stretch your arms above your head. Rollings your shoulders, you carefully rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands, letting out a long, tired sigh.

"You look like you're working harder than a CEO."

The voice was low, smooth, and laced with a distinct, charming cadence that sent an immediate shockwave straight down your spine.

Your hands dropped from your face, and your eyes snapped open.

Standing right in front of your table, with his hands casually slipped into the pockets of an oversized black hoodie, was Soul. The warm lobby lighting caught the sharp angles of his face, and that familiar, quiet smirk was playing right on his lips.

A genuine, startled smile instantly broke across your face, your heart doing that familiar flutter all over again. "Well, well, well...What are you doing down here?"

He let out a soft huff of a laugh, tilting his head as he looked down at you. "We are staying in this hotel. The whole team."

You blinked, a laugh bubbling up from your chest as you realized how foolish you must have looked. "Oh, right. Of course. Wow, what a funny coincidence. I had no idea the agency booked us into the exact same place."

Soul’s eyes drifted from your face down to the table, specifically landing on the premium glass of wine sitting right next to your laptop. The corners of his mouth tugged upward a fraction more, a knowing glint appearing in his eyes. He nodded toward the glass. "You like it?"

The piece of the puzzle clicked into place so fast it practically made your head spin. Your jaw dropped slightly, your eyes widening in sheer surprise as you looked from the glass back up to him. "Wait... you got this for me?"

Soul shrugged, a uniquely casual gesture, but the playful spark in his expression gave him away. "I ordered it. But..." He paused, his smirk widening just a bit as he delivered the punchline. "...Jongseob picked it out for you. He said you looked like you needed something better than the house standard."

A breathless chuckle escaped you, a soft warmth blossoming in your chest that had absolutely nothing to do with the alcohol. The thought of the two of them noticing you down here, let alone discussing what kind of wine you would prefer, made that familiar blush threaten to creep back up your neck. You quickly took a sip to hide your reaction, clearing your throat lightly.

"Well, please tell him he has phenomenal taste. It’s amazing. Thank you both."

You hesitated for a fraction of a second. Your professional instinct told you to wrap up the conversation, wish him a good night, and go back to your room before you made a fool of yourself again. But looking at him standing there, completely relaxed and stripped of the intense idol persona, you found yourself entirely unwilling to let the moment go just yet.

You shifted slightly in your seat, gesturing with a tilt of your head toward the empty velvet armchair directly across from you.

"Do you... want to sit down for a second? Keep a lonely journalist company while she takes a break?" you asked, keeping your tone light, playful, and entirely clear this time, ensuring there was no room for misinterpretation.

Soul’s smile softened, losing a bit of its guarded edge. "Sure," he said simply.

Without a shred of hesitation, he pulled out the heavy chair and slid onto the smooth fabric, crossing his legs and resting his forearms on the edge of the table, entirely entering your space.

You tilted your head, resting your chin on the palm of your hand as you looked across the small table at him. The dim, warm lighting of the lobby caught the sharp lines of his jaw and the relaxed, almost sleepy look in his eyes.

"So," you began, your tone curious but casual. "How come you’re down here completely by yourself? Where are the others?"

Soul shrugged, leaning back and resting one ankle over his opposite knee. "I like having time to myself sometimes. It’s quiet."

"Are you guys together twenty-four-seven?" you asked, a faint smile playing on your lips.

He nodded, a slow, knowing smirk spreading across his face. "Pretty much. Always."

You let out a soft whistle, genuinely impressed. "Wow. I mean, I love my friends, but that has to get incredibly annoying from time to time."

Soul chuckled, nodding in agreement. The conversation flowed naturally from there, drifting into a surprisingly deep discussion about the absolute necessity of privacy, the concept of 'me time,' and how incredibly grounding it was to just be completely alone with your own thoughts after hours of being under flashing lights and surrounded by shouting crowds.

"Do you live alone?" Soul asked suddenly, his dark eyes locking onto yours with genuine interest.

"Yeah, I do," you nodded, taking a small sip of your wine. "I actually used to live with my ex, but we broke up because he turned out to be a complete asshole, so I moved out." You froze, the words hanging in the air. A wave of embarrassment hit you as you realized what you had just casually blurted out to a global pop idol. You cleared your throat quickly. "Uh, wow. I don't know why I just told you that."

Soul’s eyes sparked with pure amusement, a low laugh vibrating in his chest. "It’s okay. Are you dating again now?"

You shook your head quickly, wanting to steer the topic far away from your disastrous romantic past. "God no, definitely not. Honestly, my job is the most interesting part of my life right now."

Soul tilted his head, his smirk returning as he looked you over. "I doubt that. You seem pretty cool. And interesting."

The unexpected, direct compliment sent a sudden, dizzying rush of heat straight to your cheeks. You felt yourself blush under his steady gaze and looked down at your glass, clearing your throat. "Well... thank you. I appreciate that."

He leaned a little bit forward, resting his forearms on the dark wood of the table, bringing his face just a fraction closer to yours. "Can I ask you something? Earlier, before the cameras started rolling... did you really mean it when you said you were a fan? Or did you just say that to gain our sympathy?"

You looked at him, your eyes widening in mock offense as you playfully gasped. "Excuse me? I am absolutely a genuine fan! Killin' It was practically my entire personality for months."

Soul laughed, the sound rich and relaxed. "I figured. But you’d be surprised how many journalists claim they love our music, and then during the actual interview, they have absolutely no idea who we are or what we do."

"Well, I am definitely not like that," you assured him, a proud smile on your lips.

Soul wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, a teasing glint in his eyes. "Oh yeah? Then who is your bias?"

You burst out laughing, instantly shaking your head. You picked up your wine glass, taking a deliberate, slow sip to buy yourself time, entirely refusing to crack under the pressure. "Nice try. I am absolutely not answering that."

"Come on," he teased, his voice dropping into a low, playful whine. "You can tell me. I won't tell anyone."

"No way," you laughed, setting the glass down. "My lips are sealed."

Soul watched you for a moment, analyzing your expression before he leaned back with a knowing nod. "It’s probably Theo or Jiung anyway. It’s always them."

You raised an eyebrow. "Are they the fan favorites?"

He nodded simply. You shrugged, tapping your fingers against the stem of your wine glass. "I mean, they're great. They're pretty cool. But..." You paused, a sudden stroke of boldness taking over as you looked him straight in the eyes. "...they're not really my type."

Soul’s gaze sharpened, his smirk widening as he locked his dark eyes onto yours. "Oh? Then what is your type?"

You paused, the weight of his intense look making your heart skip a beat. You thought about it for a second, swirling the remaining wine in your glass. "I guess I like guys who aren't afraid to take risks. Someone who is exciting, unpredictable, and loves to try new things."

Soul nodded slowly, a dark, incredibly knowing smile curving his lips. The sudden shift in the atmosphere made you blush all over again, the heat intense against your skin. Needing to deflect, you cleared your throat quickly and leaned forward. "Alright, your turn. What’s your type?"

Soul let out a loud laugh, immediately shaking his head. "No. I’m not answering that."

"Hey! That's not fair!" you laughed, but before you could protest further, Soul raised a hand to signal the waiter. He ordered a drink for himself, and the brief interruption allowed the thick, sudden tension between you to settle back into a slow burn.

When the waiter returned and placed the amber liquid in front of him, you found yourself staring at Soul’s hands—strong, veins faintly visible against his skin as he wrapped his fingers around the glass. Soul lifted the drink, but before taking a sip, he looked up and met your gaze. He nodded at you, a knowing smirk on his face.

"You have a question burning on your tongue, don't you?" he noted dryly.

You smirked back, waiting patiently until he took a slow, deliberate sip of his drink. "I do, actually. Do you guys ever... go on dates? With girls?"

Soul paused, lowering his glass. He looked at you through his thick lashes. "Define 'date.'"

You shrugged, leaning your chin on your hand again. "You know. The usual. Going to a nice restaurant, or seeing a movie together."

Soul let out a soft sigh, his expression turning a bit more serious, though the playful edge never fully vanished. "It’s not that easy. At all."

"I get that," you murmured, your voice softening. "Do you have specific rules you have to follow?"

He nodded, a wry smile touching his lips. "A ton of rules. So many."

You leaned a little closer across the small table, your voice dropping to a playful whisper. "Are you drunk enough to tell me what they are?"

Soul smirked, his eyes dropping briefly to your lips before rising back to meet your gaze. He took another sip of his drink, the amber liquid glistening on his bottom lip. "Nice try. But I can tell you a few."

He spoke quietly, explaining the strict protocols, the carefully coordinated exits, the constant surveillance, and the absolute necessity of keeping their private lives entirely separate from the public eye. As you listened to him speak, your journalist brain completely shut off, replaced by a deep, visceral fascination. There was something undeniably magnetic about the world he lived in.

"Doesn't all that secrecy... make it even more exciting?" you asked softly, leaning in closer, your eyes locked onto his. "The thrill of not getting caught?"

Soul’s smirk deepened, a dangerous, dark glint flashing in his eyes as he nodded. "Yeah. It is kind of exciting."

The air between you grew heavy, thick with a sudden, charged current that made the rest of the lobby completely fade into the background. You felt a bold, reckless urge take over, driven by the wine and the intense pull of his presence.

"Have you ever had a secret affair?" you whispered, your voice thick with a sudden, quiet tension. "One that even your members didn't know about?"

Soul didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze dropped from your eyes, slowly tracking down the length of your neck, lingering on the exposed collarbone beneath your slightly loosened blazer, before rising back up to look deep into your eyes. The deliberate scrutiny sent a heavy, burning ache straight to your core.

"There is nothing my members don't know about me," he said, his voice dropping an octave, smooth and completely steady.

You raised an eyebrow, your breathing hitching slightly at the intensity in his tone. "Really? You must share absolutely everything with each other then."

Soul nodded, leaning forward just enough that you could catch the faint, expensive scent of his cologne. He looked deep into your eyes, his gaze heavy and unblinking. "We really do. We share everything."

A sudden, sharp wave of arousal hit you like a physical wave, making your core throb tightly. The implicit weight behind his words, combined with the raw, intense way he was looking at you, made your throat go completely dry. He wasn't just talking about secrets; the dark, possessive look in his eyes hinted at something much deeper, a shared boundary that felt entirely thrilling and incredibly dangerous.

You swallowed heavily, your fingers trembling slightly as you reached for your glass and took another sip of wine just to give yourself something to do. "That... must be difficult," you managed to say, your voice a little breathier than before. "To not have anything completely for yourself."

Soul tilted his head, his smirk turning into something much more predatory and confident. "I don't mind sharing," he murmured, his voice velvety soft. "But if I want something... I get it."

The sheer, unadulterated confidence in his words made your breath catch in your throat. Your heart was hammering against your ribs, a warm, heavy sensation settling deep in your lower stomach. Soul clearly noticed your visceral reaction; his eyes tracked the sharp intake of your breath, and a satisfied, devastatingly handsome smirk spread across his lips as he slowly leaned back into his seat, giving you space to breathe.

The silence that followed was thick, suffocatingly hot, and filled with an unspoken tension that felt entirely electric. You cleared your throat, desperately trying to regain a shred of your professional composure, though your hands were still warm.

"You... really are a complex man," you said, offering a weak, slightly breathless smile.

Soul let out a soft laugh, the sudden tension breaking just a fraction. "Sorry if I overshared."

"No!" you answered immediately, the word leaving your lips far too quickly, far too eagerly. You looked deep into his eyes, your gaze intense. "It's fine. Really."

Soul froze for a fraction of a second, visibly startled by how fast and intensely you had responded. Then, a slow, incredibly wicked smirk curved his lips, his eyes practically dancing with amusement at how thoroughly caught you were.

Realizing exactly how transparent you had just been, you instantly looked down at your hands, your face burning a furious, bright red as you cursed yourself internally for being so obvious.

Soul chuckled softly, the sound low and private. He lifted his glass and drank the remaining amber liquid in one smooth swallow. He set the empty glass down with a soft click and slid his hands back into the pockets of his hoodie as he stood up from the plush chair.

"I've wasted enough of your time," he said smoothly, looking down at you. "You should get back to your work."

"Right. Work," you murmured, looking up at him, your heart still racing.

"Good night," he said, offering a polite tilt of his head.

He turned and began to walk toward the elevators. But after only a few steps, he paused. He turned around one last time, his dark eyes locking onto yours across the dimly lit lobby, completely holding you captive.

"Room 704," he said, his tone dry, factual, and entirely deliberate.

Without waiting for a response, he turned back around and walked into the waiting elevator, the doors sliding shut behind him.

You sat frozen at the table, the ambient noise of the hotel lobby slowly rushing back into your ears. Your heart was beating incredibly fast, a wild, erratic rhythm thumping against your chest as you stared at the empty elevator bank. The text on your laptop screen was a complete blur. Your skin felt electric, the heavy, lingering ache between your thighs serving as a vivid reminder of the dangerous invitation he had just left hanging in the air.

Your rational brain desperately tried to kick in, screaming about professionalism, boundaries, and the absolute chaos that would ensue if anyone found out. But your body was entirely deaf to the warning. The raw, intense affect his words had on you had created a heavy, throbbing ache deep in your core that you couldn't ignore. Your thoughts began to malfunction, short-circuiting under the sheer weight of temptation.

Before you could consciously decide to stop yourself, you felt your legs moving. You were up from your seat, packing your laptop away in a daze, and walking toward the elevator bank.

Your palms felt slick and sweaty against your bag. Step by step, the reality of what you were doing pressed down on your chest. When the elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, you stepped inside. Your hand hovered over the glowing panel, your fingers trembling violently just inches away from the buttons. You pulled back for a split second, a sudden wave of panic hitting you. What am I doing?

But then you remembered the wicked, predatory smirk on his face when he told you he gets what he wants. You bit your bottom lip hard, leaned forward, and firmly pressed the button for the 7th floor.

The ride up was agonizingly fast. When the doors slid open, the quiet, carpeted hallway of the residential floor stretched out before you. You took a deep, shuddering breath, feeling your legs go completely shaky beneath you as you forced yourself to walk down the corridor.

701... 702... 703...

You stopped in front of Room 704. Your heart was hammering so loudly against your ribs you were certain he could hear it from the other side. Raising a trembling hand, you softly knocked against the heavy wood.

For a second, there was silence. Then, the latch clicked. Your breath hitched sharply in your throat as the door slowly swung inward.

Soul stood in the entryway. He had shed his oversized hoodie, now wearing only a tight black tank top that clung to the broad slope of his shoulders and exposed the lean, toned muscles of his arms. His dark eyes instantly locked onto yours, completely unreadable but intensely focused. He slowly eyed you up and down, taking in your flushed cheeks and shallow breathing, before a faint, knowing smirk touched his lips.

"Do you want to come in?" he asked, his voice a low, raspy murmur.

You hesitated, the final boundary of your professional life hanging in the balance. But looking at the sharp lines of his collarbone and the dark promise in his eyes, the answer was already decided. You gave a slow, tight nod and stepped past him into the dimly lit room.

The heavy door clicked shut behind you, the sound final and absolute. The only light came from the city skyline filtering through the sheer curtains of the window, casting long, dramatic shadows across the bed and the walls.

You turned around to face him, clutching your bag tightly against your front like a shield. The silence between you was suffocatingly thick, charged with an electric tension that made your skin tingle.

"This is probably a huge mistake," you admitted softly, your voice barely a whisper in the quiet room.

Soul raised a single eyebrow, his smirk widening just a fraction as he leaned back against the closed door, crossing his arms over his chest. "You can still leave."

You didn't answer. You couldn't. Your feet felt glued to the floor, your gaze locked onto his mouth.

Seeing your silence, Soul’s expression darkened into something incredibly intense. He lowered his arms and slowly, deliberately, began walking toward you. The sheer magnetism of his stride made your breath catch. Instinctively, you took a step back, then another, until your heels hit the baseboard and your back bumped softly against the wall.

Soul didn't stop until he was standing completely in your personal space, his heat radiating against your skin. He raised his arm, planting his palm firmly against the wall just over your head, effectively trapping you between his body and the hard surface. He leaned down, his face inches from yours, his dark eyes burning into your soul.

"Why did you follow me into my room?" he murmured, his breath brushing warm against your cheek.

You swallowed heavily, your hands dropping to your sides as you looked up at him. "I took your words down there as an invitation."

Soul nodded slowly, his gaze dropping to your mouth before rising back to your eyes. "It was."

A breathless, nervous laugh escaped your lips, your heart racing at his blunt honesty. "So... what are you going to do now?"

Soul’s eyes darkened completely, his focus shifting entirely to your lips. He tilted his head, a dangerous, heavy heat settling over his features. He nodded faintly toward your mouth, his voice dropping into a husky, commanding whisper.

"Take a guess."

The sheer, intoxicating confidence of his words shattered the last bit of your restraint. You bit your lip, let out a soft whimper, and leaned heavily against his chest, completely erasing the distance between you as you crashed your lips against his.

Soul let out a low, rough growl into the kiss, his restraint instantly snapping. His hand moved from the wall, gripping the back of your neck with a firm, possessive hold to tilt your head, deepening the kiss with a fierce, burning hunger. His tongue slid easily past your lips, claiming your mouth in a deep, bruising rhythm that left you entirely breathless.

You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, pulling yourself flush against him. The feeling of his hard chest pressing against your breasts sent a sharp, agonizing wave of arousal straight down to your thighs. You moaned softly into his mouth, your hips instinctively shifting forward, seeking the hard ridge of his desire through his clothes.

Soul groaned at the contact, his free hand sliding down your waist, his long fingers gripping your hip tightly, bruising your skin as he pulled you even tighter against him, grinding his hips firmly against yours. The friction was so intense, so perfect, that your knees went weak, your body completely melting under his touch as he thoroughly dominated the space between you.

Soul took advantage of your sudden breathless surrender, his strong fingers sliding up your wrists. With one smooth, deliberate motion, he raised your hands over your head and pinned them firmly against the wall.

You gasped into the kiss at the sudden loss of control, and he used the opportunity to deepen it, intensifying the friction of his lips and tongue against yours. He poured everything into the kiss, an aggressive, consuming rhythm that made your head spin and your vision blur in the darkened room. A violent shiver racked your body. You instinctively tried to free your wrists, twisting your hands, but his grip was iron clad. He easily kept them pinned, holding you entirely at his mercy.

A choked whimper escaped your throat. Soul finally pulled back a fraction, his chest heaving as he pressed his warm forehead against yours. His dark eyes were black with desire in the shadows, his breath hot against your face.

"Is this what you were talking about down there?" he rasped, his voice a deep, gravelly vibration.

Before you could form a word, his lips slid down your jawline, pressing a hard, searing kiss directly to the sensitive skin of your neck. You arched into his touch, your breath hitching as his teeth grazed your skin.

"The thrill of not getting caught," he reminded you, his voice a velvety whisper against your pulsing vein.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your hands twitching in his grasp as he slid lower, pressing an open-mouthed kiss right over your collarbone. He nipped at the skin there, making you gasp, before he murmured against your collarbone, "You knew exactly what you were doing when you came up here."

"I didn't—" you tried to protest, your voice weak and breathless, but he instantly cut you off.

He caught your lips in another devastating kiss, his hand shifting to cup your jaw. He captured your bottom lip between his teeth, softly biting down and pulling it with a slow, agonizingly hot tension, teasing you until your entire body felt like it was on fire. The sheer intensity of the sensation flooded you with a sudden burst of adrenaline. With one strong, desperate flick of your wrists, you wrenched your hands free from his grip.

Before he could react, you planted your palms firmly against his chest and pushed him backward.

Soul stumbled back a step, the back of his knees hitting the edge of the mattress. He dropped heavily onto the side of the bed, his hands resting on the sheets behind him. He looked up at you through his dark bangs, a thoroughly amused, wicked smile spreading across his face as he watched you breathe heavily, your hair beautifully disheveled.

You looked down at him, your chest heaving as the raw arousal throbbed heavily between your thighs. "I already completely fucked up," you stated, your voice thick with desire.

Soul tilted his head, his smirk deepening as he repeated your exact words back to you, throwing your own challenge right back into your face. "You already fucked up. So... what are you going to do now?"

The bold challenge was the final straw. You stepped forward, closing the distance between his parted knees. Slowly, deliberately, you lifted your leg and straddled his lap, sinking your hips down onto his thighs. Soul’s hands instantly gripped your waist to steady you, his thumbs digging into your skin. You leaned down, burying your fingers into his hair and gripping his face firmly.

"Take a guess," you rasped against his skin.

You crashed your mouth roughly against his again.

Soul let out a fierce growl, his grip on your waist tightening as he pulled you down hard against him. The kiss turned completely feral, a rough, aggressive clash of lips and teeth as you both fought for dominance. He shifted his hand from your waist, his long fingers sliding up your chest until his palm wrapped firmly around the front of your throat. He squeezed it lightly, just enough to restrict your breath for a split second.

You let out a sharp gasp into his mouth at the pressure, your core throbbing violently, while Soul let out a low, dark growl of satisfaction at your reaction.

He tore his mouth from yours, attacking your neck with fierce, bruising kisses. His free hand roamed heavily up and down your body, sliding under your blazer, tracing the curve of your waist and the flare of your hips, his touch growing entirely possessive and demanding. You tilted your head back, exposing your throat to him completely, your hands gripping his shoulders as you instinctively ground your hips down against his, feeling the thick, rigid length of his erection pressing hard against your center through your clothes.

Soul groaned loudly against your skin, his grip on your throat loosening into a heavy caress. "Do you remember..." he whispered roughly, his lips brushing the sensitive skin beneath your ear, "...me telling you that I don't mind sharing things?"

A broken whimper was the only answer you could manage, your mind completely consumed by the overwhelming friction of your bodies. Soul smirked against your skin, clearly loving the absolute mess he had made of you.

Knock. Knock.

The sharp, loud sound against the heavy wood of the hotel door shattered the silence.

You instantly froze on his lap, your heart stopping for a terrifying second before it began to hammer in pure, cold panic. Your eyes went wide as you looked down at him, your body rigid. But Soul didn't even flinch. He remained completely relaxed beneath you, his hands resting casually on your hips, his breathing steady.

You looked at him bewildered, your chest rising and falling rapidly. "Soul," you hissed in a panicked whisper. "Someone is at the door."

Soul simply licked his lips, his dark eyes sparkling with a terrifyingly calm amusement. He tilted his head toward the door, a slow, devastating smirk spreading across his face.

"Go open it," he murmured.

Your jaw dropped. "Are you crazy?" you whispered frantically, glancing toward the door and back to him. "If someone sees me in here—"

"Are you scared?" he challenged softly, his voice dripping with playfulness as his hands slid slowly up your thighs, his fingers brushing dangerously close to your burning core.

You let out a frustrated huff, your mind racing, still entirely skeptical and terrified of the professional ruin waiting on the other side of that wood. Soul noticed your hesitation. He leaned forward, pressing his hard chest back against yours, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He pressed a slow, wet kiss to your skin, his thumb tracing a slow circle on your hip.

"Open it," he whispered against your skin, his voice a low, seductive promise. "I'll reward you if you do."

A soft, helpless moan escaped your lips at the promise, the sheer thrill of the danger spiking your arousal to an unbearable pitch. Slowly, reluctantly, you untangled yourself from his lap. Your legs felt like jelly as you stood up, quickly smoothing down your rumpled clothes and running a frantic hand through your hair. You took one last, breathless look back at Soul. He was leaning back on his elbows on the bed, looking entirely unbothered as he winked at you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and walked toward the door, each step feeling like a walk toward a firing squad. Your hand shook as you reached out, unlocked the latch, and pulled the door open just a few inches.

Your breath hitched sharply, completely freezing in your throat.

Standing in the brightly lit hallway was Jongseob. He was leaning casually against the doorframe, a sleek, premium bottle of wine held loosely in one hand. The moment the door opened, his dark eyes locked onto yours. A slow, incredibly knowing smirk spread across his lips as his gaze deliberately raked up and down your disheveled appearance—taking in your flushed face, swollen lips, and the slightly wrinkled fabric of your blazer.

Your jaw went completely slack, your voice trapped in your throat as the realization of what Soul meant by sharing crashed over you in a devastating wave.

Jongseob tilted his head, his smirk widening into a handsome, wicked grin as he looked past you into the darkened room, then back to your stunned face.

"Am I late?" he asked smoothly.

He didn't look rushed or surprised; instead, he caught your gaze, holding it with a soft, entirely deliberate smirk that sent a fresh jolt of adrenaline straight to your toes. You watched him cross the small entryway and casually set the premium bottle of wine down on the sleek dresser.

Left alone at the open threshold, you looked out into the empty, dimly lit hallway of the hotel. The quiet corridor represented safety, your professional life, and an easy escape route. You could just walk out right now. But as you stood there, the thick, heavy heat pulsing inside your lower stomach completely took over, melting away the last shred of your hesitation.

Slowly, you let the door swing shut, the lock clicking into place with a definitive snap.

You walked back into the main room, crossing your arms as you looked between the two of them. Soul was still lounging back on the bed, looking like a pleased cat, while Jongseob was standing by the dresser.

"So," you began, trying to inject a bit of your journalistic sharpness back into your tone despite your racing pulse. "Is this your thing? One of you lures the victim into his room while the other one waits outside to join in?"

Jongseob and Soul immediately exchanged a quick, highly amused look. Jongseob reached for the wine bottle, effortlessly cracking the seal and opening it with a practiced ease. He tilted his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours as he poured a small amount into a glass.

"You don't exactly seem uninterested," he pointed out, his voice smooth and laced with a quiet confidence that made your skin tingle.

You eyed him up and down, taking in the sharp lines of his jaw and his effortless posture, before your gaze drifted to the bottle. "Is that the same wine you ordered for me downstairs?"

He nodded, a soft smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Soul texted me and told me that you liked it."

A sudden warmth bloomed in your chest. You tried to stop yourself from smiling—wanting to maintain at least a little bit of mystery—but you failed miserably. To hide it, you quickly looked down at your feet, biting the inside of your cheek.

When you looked back up, Jongseob was watching you, his expression softening into something incredibly intense. "You had my attention from the exact moment you walked into the interview today," he said softly.

You raised an eyebrow, a sarcastic, playful edge returning to your voice. "Oh, really? And how many girls have you told that already?"

Jongseob let out a rich, genuine chuckle, shaking his head. He stepped away from the dresser, slowly closing the distance between you. "See? This is exactly one of the reasons why we think you're so interesting."

From the bed, Soul leaned forward, his voice a low, raspy murmur. "She is bold."

"Sharp and clever, too," Jongseob added, stopping just inches away from you. The proximity was intoxicating. He raised a hand, his long, warm fingers brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face, his touch agonizingly gentle. "You're not an idiot. You know how things work."

A violent shiver racked your body under his light touch. Jongseob’s gaze dropped to your mouth, and he let his index finger slide slowly over your bottom lip, tracing the sensitive skin that Soul had just bitten minutes prior. The contrast of his cool finger against your burning skin made your breath hitch.

He leaned in just a fraction closer, his eyes dark. "You call the shots now," he murmured, his thumb lightly pressing against your jawline. He nodded slightly toward the closed door behind you. "You can leave. No one is stopping you."

You looked over at the door, the final boundary, and then looked right back up into Jongseob's intense stare. Instead of backing away, you reached past him, your hand wrapping around the neck of the open wine bottle. Keeping your eyes locked directly with his, you lifted the bottle and took a slow, deliberate sip straight from it. The rich, complex flavor flooded your senses, fueling the reckless fire in your veins.

You lowered the bottle, a bold smirk playing on your swollen lips as you nodded. "The wine really is incredibly good."

From behind you, Soul let out a low huff of a laugh. "I told you. Jongseob has amazing taste."

You turned your head slightly to look at Soul, who was now watching the two of you with a heavy, hooded gaze. "Jongseob might have good taste," you pointed out, your voice dropping into a teasing, sultry purr, "but apparently he has no manners. Because he completely interrupted us."

Soul’s smirk deepened into something wicked, his eyes flashing with delight as he glanced up at his member. "I agree."

Jongseob chuckled softly, not bothered by the callout at all. Step by step, he moved behind you, his large, warm hands settling firmly onto your waist. The heat of his palms burned through your blazer. With a slow, deliberate pressure, he gently turned your body around until you were facing the bed again, completely presenting you to Soul.

"Just act like I'm not even here," Jongseob whispered against the shell of your ear, his breath sending a wave of goosebumps down your neck.

When you opened your mouth to say something, to protest the sheer, overwhelming sensation of being caught between the two of them, Jongseob squeezed your waist tightly, his thumbs digging into your hips.

"Don't worry," he promised, his voice dropping into a dark, husky rasp that vibrated straight through your spine. "I will get my turn."

He gave you a gentle, firm push forward. Your shaky legs moved automatically, bringing you right to the edge of the bed. Soul smoothly stood up, his tall, lean frame towering over you as he stepped directly into your space, completely blocking out the rest of the room. His hands came up, his long fingers instantly tangling into your hair, tilting your face up to his.

Behind you, you could hear the soft rustle of Jongseob’s clothes as he watched, his heavy presence lingering just a few feet away. He leaned in one last time, his voice a gravelly, commanding whisper in your ear.

"For now... only focus on Soul."

You bit your bottom lip hard, a broken, needy whimper escaping your throat as the sheer, explicit thrill of the moment completely consumed you. Looking up into Soul’s dark, hungry eyes, you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck and slowly leaned in, crashing your lips against his once again.

The kiss shifted, the frantic, bruising urgency from before melting into something agonizingly slow, deep, and heavy with passion. Soul’s lips parted yours with a smooth, deliberate rhythm, his tongue sweeping inside to taste you fully, making your head swim.

Behind you, Jongseob watched the two of you with dark, unblinking eyes, his breathing turning shallow. His large hands slid up from your waist, his long fingers hooking into the lapels of your blazer. He dragged the fabric slowly down, sliding it off your shoulders. Your body reacted automatically to his touch; you let your arms slip free from the sleeves, letting the jacket drop carelessly to the floor. Underneath, you wore a thin, soft shirt, and Jongseob let his bare fingertips trace a slow, burning path up your exposed arms while Soul continued to thoroughly consume your mouth.

With a gentle but firm pressure, Jongseob gathered your wrists behind your back, holding them loosely in one of his hands. He leaned his forehead against the back of your shoulder, looking past you at Soul, his voice a low, rough exhale.

"You were right," Jongseob breathed, his dark eyes fixed on the flush of your skin. "She really is beautiful."

Soul pulled back from the kiss, a soft, breathless smile curving his wet lips as he looked up at you. "Did you hear that?" he murmured, his thumb lightly stroking your cheek.

You let out a soft, helpless chuckle, your heart hammering wildly against your ribs. Soul slowly sank down onto his knees on the carpet right in front of you. Your breath hitched as his hands moved to the waistband of your pants. His fingers were steady and deliberate as he popped the button and slowly slid the zipper down. He gripped the fabric, pulling your pants down your shaky legs, leaving you standing in just your shirt and panties.

You looked down at him, your chest heaving, when suddenly you felt Jongseob’s free hand wrap entirely around your front, pulling your back flush against his chest. His lips brushed the shell of your ear, his voice dropping to a wicked, gravelly whisper.

"Soul could barely wait to get you up here," Jongseob murmured, his grip on your waist tightening possessively. "He told me you made him so incredibly hard during the interview. Every time you smiled at him."

You let out a sharp gasp, a needy whine tearing from your throat as Soul’s hands suddenly gripped the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, squeezing them firmly. Soul leaned forward, burying his face against your lower stomach. His lips pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin, his tongue swirling out to softly lick over the warm flesh just below your navel.

A deep groan vibrated against your skin as Soul rasped out, "You smell incredible. So sweet."

Jongseob smiled against your skin, his lips tracing a path up your neck to the sensitive spot just beneath your jaw. He nipped at the pulsing vein there, whispering roughly, "I bet she tastes even better."

Soul’s dark eyes snapped up, locking directly with yours from his position on his knees. He bit his bottom lip, a predatory, intense glint in his gaze as his thumbs hooked into the elastic edges of your panties.

"I'm going to find out," he murmured.

Slowly, deliberately, he slid the lace down your hips, exposing your burning, aching core completely to the cool air of the room.

Soul peppered the soft skin of your inner thighs with open-mouthed, teasing kisses, his breath hot against your trembling flesh. The raw sensation sent a violent spike of heat straight to your core, and you instinctively flexed your arms, twisting your wrists within Jongseob’s firm grip behind your back.

Jongseob let out a low, vibrating chuckle against your ear, his chest rumbling against your shoulder blades as he tightened his hold. "Look at you," he purred, his voice dripping with smooth, wicked amusement. "You can't wait either, can you?"

Soul let out a low curse under his breath, his dark eyes locked on the space between your thighs. He reached out, his long, warm fingers sliding slowly through your soft folds. He swiped upward, coating his fingertips in your slickness.

"She is absolutely soaked," Soul stated, his voice dropping into a rough, gravelly register as he rubbed his damp thumb against your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Jongseob let out a soft hum, playfully teasing you as his lips grazed your jawline. "Is that true? Are you that turned on by us?" He gently cupped your chin with his free hand, turning your head toward him so you had to look into his dark, blown-out pupils. "Look at me. Soul is going to have a taste of your pretty pussy now. Are you ready for him?"

A desperate, broken whine tore from your throat. Instead of answering with words, you instinctively bent your hips forward, your core arching toward Soul’s face in a silent, needy plea for friction.

Jongseob’s smirk widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes as he looked down at his member. "That is definitely a yes."

Soul chuckles, the sound deep and completely satisfied. Moving with a swift, confident grace, he reached up and hooked his strong arm under your knee, lifting one of your legs and draping it firmly over his broad shoulder. The sudden shift in balance made your foot leave the floor, and your weight bumped heavily back against Jongseob's solid chest.

Jongseob immediately wrapped his arm securely around your waist, pulling you flush against him to steady you. "I've got you," he promised roughly against your neck. "Don't worry."

With your body completely open and vulnerable, Soul didn't hesitate for another second. He used his long fingers to spread your folds wide, exposing your glistening center completely. His eyes locked onto yours one last time before he leaned in and dived right in with his mouth, burying his face against your burning core.

Soul started to greedily eat you out, his tongue lapping at your slick folds in broad, wet strokes before he narrowed his focus, poking and swirling the sharp tip of his tongue directly against your swollen clit. The sudden, intense friction made your entire body jolt. You let out a loud, uninhibited moan that echoed through the quiet room, your hips jerking helplessly as you pressed yourself firmly back against Jongseob's solid frame.

Jongseob didn't hesitate. He leaned forward and swallowed your loud moans, capturing your mouth in a rough, sloppy kiss. It was entirely different from Soul’s precise, sensual style—Jongseob was demanding and breathless, his tongue tangling with yours aggressively, matching the frantic pulse of the room. You moaned loudly against his lips, completely overloaded by the dual sensations.

While keeping you pinned to his mouth, Jongseob’s free hand slid down your front, his fingers tangling into Soul’s hair. He gripped the back of Soul's head and firmly pressed his face even closer against your soaking core.

Jongseob pulled back just a fraction, his lips brushing yours as he mumbled, "Does that feel good? Tell me."

You could only let out a soft, fractured moan as an answer. Jongseob smiled, a dark, dangerous look crossing his features as his hand tightened in Soul's hair. "I'm not sure if that's enough for you yet," he murmured playfully.

Soul easily took the hint. His movements instantly got more intense. He increased the speed, applying more pressure on your sensitive bundle of nerves, his tongue flattening out to lap at you rhythmically while his fingers slid deep inside your tight, soaking heat.

The overwhelming sensation shattered your restraint. You let out a loud scream, your head tossing back against Jongseob’s shoulder.

"Good girl," Jongseob praised against your ear, his voice husky and rough. He felt your muscles contracting, your arms flexing wildly in his grip as you tried to free your wrists. "What's wrong? Do you want to move?"

You kept moaning and whining in pure pleasure, completely helpless as Soul grunted against your wet skin, literally fucking you with his tongue. He was relentless, his jaw working hard as he drank your sweetness, his fingers pumping inside you in a fast, wet rhythm that had you completely on the edge of a devastating climax.

Jongseob let out a heavy, ragged sigh against your ear, his breath burning hot. "Your moans are so pretty," he rasped, his eyes fixed on the sight of Soul’s wet mouth working between your thighs. "I cannot wait to see what kind of sounds you're going to make when it's finally my turn."

Your whole body tensed violently at his words, the thought of what was coming sending a shiver straight to your core. Soul looked up through his lashes, his eyes dark and completely blown out as he caught you looking down at him. He didn't stop, keeping his tongue glued to your clit as your walls began to ripple with the first waves of an impending orgasm.

You gasped for air, your chest heaving, your fingers twitching behind your back. Soul kept going, his pace punishing, driving you deeper into the pleasure.

Jongseob watched the two of you, his pupils completely swallowing the irises of his dark eyes. He tightened his grip on your waist, his own breathing incredibly heavy as he looked down at Soul.

"Soul," Jongseob choked out, his voice thick with a sudden, uncontrollable edge of impatience. "You might have to hurry up down there. I'm getting impatient."

When the words left Jongseob’s mouth, a sudden, fierce spike of desire and stubbornness flared within you. You gasped for air, your chest heaving, and loudly said, "No."

Both men froze. Soul stopped his wet, punishing movements against your core, looking up at you through his dark fringe with a look of pure, unadulterated confusion. Behind you, Jongseob’s grip on your wrists loosened just a fraction, his head tilting as he stared at the side of your flushed face.

You tried desperately to control your ragged breathing, blinking through the haze of pleasure. You turned your head slightly, catching Jongseob’s dark gaze. "You said... I call the shots now," you reminded him, your voice breathy but entirely firm.

Jongseob and Soul exchanged a long, silent look, a heavy tension hanging between them. You didn't give them time to debate. You lowered your gaze down to Soul, who was still kneeling between your thighs, his lips glistening and wet with your slickness.

"I want you to fuck me," you told him directly.

Soul’s eyes went completely pitch-black. A dangerous, thrilled expression washed over his features. He smoothly stood up from the floor, his tall frame looming over you as he brought his hands up to cup your face, his long fingers burying into your hair. His thumbs stroked your burning cheeks, tilting your head up.

"Repeat that," he rasped, his voice dropping into a demanding, gravelly whisper. "Say it again."

Instead of answering with words right away, you leaned forward, crashing your lips against his in a deep, bruising kiss that tasted heavily of yourself and the wine. When you finally pulled back, your eyes were locked onto his, entirely unblinking.

"Haku Shota," you called out, using his full name, the syllables heavy and deliberate on your tongue. "Fuck me."

Soul let out a low, feral growl that vibrated straight through your chest. He instantly let go of your face and reached down, grabbing the hem of his black tank top and ripping it over his head in one fluid, aggressive motion, tossing it blindly onto the floor. His bare chest was lean and beautifully defined, his muscles taut as he breathed heavily.

"I might regret sharing you," he rasped, his eyes raking over your body with a sudden, intense possessiveness. "Because with you talking like that... I want you all to myself."

Behind you, Jongseob let out a low, amused chuckle. He slowly, deliberately let go of your arms, his warm fingers sliding off your wrists. He stepped back a couple of inches, a relaxed but incredibly dark smirk on his face. "Get what you want," he murmured to you.

The very moment your arms were free, you practically lunged at Soul. Your hands dropped to his waist, your fingers trembling with a mix of adrenaline and needy desperation as you unbuckled his belt and tugged roughly at the button and zipper of his pants. Soul didn't just stand there; his lips clashed against yours again, his hands gripping your waist to steady you as you both greedily made out, tongue tangling with tongue in a frantic, messy rhythm.

"How do you want me?" Soul groaned into your mouth, his hands sliding down to grip the flesh of your ass.

"I want to ride you," you rasped against his lips, your core throbbing in agonizing synchronization with his breath.

Soul moaned loudly at the words. He reached down, quickly pushing his pants and his boxers down past his hips. He stepped out of his clothes and climbed back onto the mattress, moving with an effortless grace before he lay flat on his back, his hard, rigid length standing proudly against his stomach.

You immediately moved to climb onto the mattress, intending to straddle his lap, but Soul’s strong hands caught your waist, stopping you in your tracks.

"No," Soul murmured, his voice tight with restraint. "I want Jongseob to see exactly what you're doing to me."

With a firm, unyielding grip, he turned your body around, positioning you so your back was to his chest, forcing you to face Jongseob, who was still standing at the edge of the bed, his arms crossed and his pupils completely blown out as he watched the display.

"Sit down," Jongseob ordered softly, his voice a low, commanding rumble that made your core twitch with a fresh wave of wetness.

You slowly climbed onto Soul’s lap, your knees framing his hips. As you hovered over him, you could feel the blistering heat of his hard length pressing directly against your aching entrance from underneath.

Jongseob stepped closer, the fabric of his clothes brushing against your bare knees. He looked down at you, his gaze heavy. "Lift up your arms," he ordered.

You obeyed automatically, raising your hands over your head. Jongseob reached down, gripping the hem of your thin shirt and smoothly sliding it up and off your body, leaving you sitting there in nothing but your bra. His eyes lingered on your exposed skin, a low hum of appreciation escaping his throat. "Beautiful," he murmured, before his gaze snapped back to your eyes. "Take it off, too."

You reached behind your back, unhooking the clasp with practiced ease, and let the bra slip off your shoulders, baring your breasts to the cool air of the room.

The moment the lace fell away, Soul instantly sat up behind you. His bare, warm chest pressed flush against your sensitive back, his body heat completely enveloping you. He wrapped his long arms around your front, his large hands cupping your breasts firmly, his thumbs immediately finding your stiff nipples and rolling them. You let out a breathless gasp, your head falling back against his shoulder.

"I won't come inside you," Soul rasped in your ear, his voice tight and heavy as he nipped at your earlobe. "Remember the rules I told you about downstairs? We keep it safe."

You nodded frantically, your mind completely fried by the sheer sensory overload of Soul’s hands on your chest and Jongseob’s dark eyes tracking every single movement from the edge of the bed.

Soul let out a dark chuckle and lightly tapped your hip, a silent command. "Rise up a little."

You pushed up onto your knees, hovering inches above him. Soul reached down between your bodies, his warm fingers gripping his own length and positioning the broad, slick tip right at your tight, soaking entrance. You let out a sharp gasp before he even moved, the sheer heat of him threatening to push you over the edge.

Soul didn't wait. His hands flew up to your waist, his grip tightening until his knuckles turned white, and with one firm, unyielding downward pull, he made you sit completely down on him, burying his length deep inside your burning heat.

Your eyes went wide, the sudden, overwhelming stretch of him filling you completely making your breath catch in your throat. The sheer fullness was dizzying, and your body instinctively tried to cave forward under the weight of the pleasure. But before you could fall, Jongseob’s strong hands shot forward, catching you firmly by your forearms and keeping you upright.

Behind you, Soul let out a harsh, ragged curse that vibrated directly against your spine. He slapped your bare ass with a sharp, stinging crack, making you gasp into the quiet room. "Fuck," he hissed against your neck, his voice dangerously low. "You are so incredibly tight."

He buried his face between your shoulder blades, peppering the heated skin with bruising, open-mouthed kisses. "I know I should take my time with you," he rasped, his hips twitching beneath yours as your walls clenched tightly around him. "But the way you are squeezing me right now... I want to fuck you so hard you won't be able to walk tomorrow."

Jongseob let out a low, warning growl from the edge of the bed, his grip tightening on your arms. "Hey," he scolded, his eyes dark as he glared at Soul. "Don't ruin her. Remind yourself that I get to have her as well."

Soul chuckled darkly against your skin. He slowly drew his hips back, nearly pulling all the way out, before he pushed firmly back inside you, bottoming out against your core. The deep, heavy sensation made you release a fractured breath you didn't even know you were holding. Your knees shook on the mattress, and you desperately held onto Jongseob’s strong arms for dear life while Soul stayed buried inside you, letting your body stretch out and adjust to his size.

Jongseob’s gaze dropped to where your fingers were digging tightly into his skin. He licked his lips, a predatory smile spreading across his face. "You better be careful," he warned, his voice dropping into a husky purr. "Holding onto me like that is going to give me some very bad ideas."

Before you could answer, Soul started to move. He established a controlled, agonizingly deep pace, his hands gripping your hips to guide your body as you bounced rhythmically in his lap. Every upward and downward thrust hit your sweet spot perfectly, making your head roll back against Soul’s chest as continuous waves of friction flooded your senses.

Even through the haze of Soul’s punishing rhythm, your gaze flicked up to Jongseob. Driven by a sudden, shameless surge of greed, you let go of his arms and reached forward, your fingers hooking tightly into his belt loops. You pulled him firmly toward the edge of the bed, demanding his proximity.

Jongseob let out a rich, surprised chuckle as your trembling fingers went straight for his belt buckle. You let out a loud, broken moan as Soul thrust deeply into you, but you didn't stop, aggressively shoving down Jongseob's pants and revealing the thick, rigid shape of his length pulsing beneath his dark boxers.

"Look at you," Jongseob pointed out, his voice thick with arousal as he looked down at your frantic movements. "You really are greedy, aren't you?"

Behind you, Soul chuckled and slapped your ass again, the sound loud in the dark room. "I knew it already!" he called out, his pace picking up just a fraction, matching the sudden increase of chaotic energy. "She's trouble."

Jongseob reached forward, his long fingers tangling into your disheveled hair, gently tilting your head back so you had to look up at him. "Are you really that desperate for two cocks?" he mockingly asked, a wicked, beautiful smirk on his face.

As a direct answer, you leaned your head forward. Without a shred of hesitation, you swiped your tongue right along the fabric of his boxers, tracing the thick, burning outline of his length through the cloth.

Jongseob let out a loud, guttural groan, his hips twitching forward into your mouth at the sudden contact. Just as he did, Soul delivered a particularly hard, unforgiving upward thrust from behind, hitting your cervix. A high-pitched, desperate whimper tore from your throat, your core clenching violently around Soul’s length.

Jongseob cursed lowly, the visual and physical overload finally breaking his calm composure. He ripped his shirt over his head, tossing it to the floor, his chest heaving as his eyes turned entirely feral.

"Fine," he growled, his voice a dark, possessive promise as he reached for the waistband of his underwear. "If you want it that way, let's do it your way then"

The moment the fabric of Jongseob’s boxers dropped, Soul reacted with a sudden, possessive surge of dominance. He surged forward, flattening his bare chest completely against your back, pinning you securely against his frame. He wrapped his large hand firmly around the front of your throat, applying just enough commanding pressure to force a helpless, echoing moan from your lips.

With you securely trapped in his grip, Soul didn't slow down; he picked up the pace, pumping up into your soaking core with a heavy, wet friction that had your thighs trembling violently on the mattress.

Jongseob stepped onto the mattress, dropping onto his knees directly in front of your face. His thick, fully erect length was pulsing in the dim light, glistening with pre-cum. He locked eyes with Soul, giving him a tight, knowing nod of mutual understanding.

"Open your pretty mouth for him," Soul hissed in your ear, his voice a gravelly, demanding rasp against your skin as he delivered another deep, punishing thrust from behind.

Driven entirely by the explicit thrill of the moment, your lips parted instantly, your tongue rolling forward in anticipation.

Jongseob let out a low, ragged praise, his eyes darkening to a completely black void as he leaned over you. He gripped the base of his length and deliberately slapped the hot, sensitive tip across your tongue, coating it in his heat. He let out a breathless, disbelieving chuckle, his hips twitching. "Fuck," he muttered, looking between your blown-out pupils and his dick. "I could literally come just from the sight of this."

Without making you wait another second, Jongseob guided his rigid shaft forward, shoving it deep into your mouth. A low, guttural groan tore from his chest as your tight, wet heat enveloped him.

The intoxicating taste of him sent a shockwave straight to your lower stomach. You instantly closed your lips tightly around his thick girth, suctioning your cheeks as you rhythmically began to bob your head, taking him as deep down your throat as you could manage.

The double penetration was completely overwhelming. Behind you, Soul let out a fierce, breathless grunt. He attacked the side of your neck, pressing sloppy, open-mouthed kisses against your skin while his hands dug bruisingly into your hips, aggressively fucking up into you with a relentless, driving force that had you completely caught between them.

They kept using you like that, completely dominating your body in the shadows of the hotel room. By all accounts, you were an absolute mess—your hair was tangled, your skin was slick with a mixture of sweat and pre-cum, and your breath was hitching in frantic, broken gasps. But you loved every single second of it. The taboo thrill of being sandwiched between the two idols, completely at their mercy, had elevated your arousal to an almost painful pitch.

They continued to take turns with you, filling every available space. Jongseob kept a steady, deep rhythm in your mouth, his hands resting heavily on your shoulders to guide your head, while Soul ruthlessly rode you from behind, his hips slamming against your ass with a wet, heavy rhythm that shook your entire frame. They showered you in filthy, possessive praise, their low grunts and whispered compliments echoing in the quiet room as their hands roamed over your exposed, hypersensitive skin.

Suddenly, Soul let out a harsh, strangled gasp. He felt the internal muscles of your walls violently twitching, clamping down around his rigid length with an intense, involuntary suction.

"Jongseob," Soul choked out, his voice thick and strained as he gripped your hips with white-knuckled intensity. "She's-... she's clamping down on me so hard. I think she’s about to cum for us."

Jongseob, who was right in the middle of a deep push into your mouth, froze. He slowly pulled his slick, dripping length out of your lips with a soft pop. Instead of backing away, he shifted his weight on his knees, dropping lower until his face was perfectly on eye level with yours. His breathing was incredibly ragged, his chest heaving as he reached out and cupped your flushed, sweaty cheeks in his large palms.

"Look at me," Jongseob commanded softly, his dark eyes burning into yours. "Are you about to come for us? Right now?"

You could barely form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. Your mind was completely fried. You simply nodded your head eagerly against his hands, your eyes pleading and unfocused.

Seeing your confirmation, Soul didn't hesitate. He let out a feral growl and instantly fastened his thrusts, abandoning all restraint. He pounded up into you with a fast, merciless, and punishing speed, making your body bounce violently in his lap. The brutal, rapid friction against your G-spot was too much to bear.

Your eyes rolled back into your head as the intense pressure peaked. Right at that exact second, Jongseob leaned forward and caught your lips in a rough, bruising kiss, his tongue sliding inside to claim your mouth one last time.

You let out a muffled, desperate moan straight into his mouth as your orgasm finally snapped. Your internal walls clamped down on Soul in tight, violent waves, sending a blinding rush of pure ecstasy straight through your spine that left your entire body trembling helplessly in their hold.

Tears of pure, overwhelming pleasure leaked from the corners of your eyes, tracking warm paths down your flushed cheeks. Your head fell back against Jongseob's shoulder as a high-pitched, broken whine tore from your throat, your entire body shivering violently in the aftermath of the intense climax.

Soul reacted instantly. The clamping friction of your release had pushed him right to his absolute limit. He let out a harsh, guttural grunt as he gripped your hips and pulled his rigid length completely out of your soaking heat with a wet, heavy slide. Before you could even process the sudden loss of warmth, his strong hands caught your shoulders, and he threw you back onto the mattress, flipping you onto your back.

You collapsed into the plush sheets, your legs dangling weakly off the edge of the bed as you gasped for air, your chest heaving.

Soul didn't waste a single second. He straddled your leg, leaning over your body like a predator. His face was flushed, his jaw tight, and his dark hair was completely disheveled as he gripped his own thick, pulsing length. He began to roughly and aggressively jerk himself off right above you, his breath coming in heavy, ragged pants. His veins stood out sharply against his neck and arms as his stroke quickened, his gaze locked entirely on your exposed, messy body.

"Fuck," he hissed under his breath, his voice a deep, gravelly vibration that made your core twitch all over again. "You are so fucking hot."

He threw his head back, his eyes snapping shut as his body went completely rigid. With a loud, breathless groan, he came heavily all over your bare stomach and breasts, the thick, white heat splashing across your skin.

As his breathing slowed, Soul instantly leaned down, pinning your wrists to the mattress on either side of your head. He crashed his mouth against yours, kissing you passionately and deeply, his tongue tasting the lingering sweetness of the wine and yourself on your lips.

Your lips moved together in a slow, deep rhythm that felt entirely grounding after the absolute chaos of your release. Soul let out a soft sigh into your mouth, one of his hands leaving your wrist to gently brush his thumb beneath your eyes, wiping away the wet tracks of your tears with an unexpected, tender care.

When he finally pulled back, a thick strand of saliva connected your lips before breaking. Both of you were panting heavily, your chests rising and falling in sync. You could feel the sticky, cooling weight of his release resting heavily against your bare skin, a stark, visceral reminder of exactly what you had just done. Soul looked down at you, his previous predatory edge completely melting away as he flashed you a gentle, surprisingly sweet smile that made your heart skip a beat for an entirely different reason.

Before you could say a word, the heavy mattress dipped significantly behind him.

Jongseob’s shadow loomed over the two of you as he crawled closer. He clicked his tongue against his teeth, a low, teasing sound as his dark eyes locked onto your disheveled form.

"Sorry to ruin your little moment, Soul," Jongseob murmured, his voice a deep, gravelly rasp that immediately brought the heavy tension back into the air. He wrapped his hand around Soul’s shoulder, a firm, possessive squeeze. "But I have to remind you... we are not done yet."

The two men shifted with an effortless, synchronized coordination that made it clear they truly did share everything. Jongseob reached out, his strong hands sliding under your armpits to gently but firmly lift you up into a sitting position on the tangled sheets. Soul smoothly slid down the mattress, positioning himself directly behind you once again.

You found yourself nestled securely between Soul’s parted legs. He didn't waste a second, his bare chest flattening against your back while his long arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against his heat. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his lips softly kissing the bruised skin beneath your ear, his breath tickling your sensitive skin.

In front of you, Jongseob’s gaze darkened as he took in the sight. He reached forward, his large hands wrapping around your ankles. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled your legs apart, spreading them wide across the mattress so he could settle down entirely between them.

He leaned forward, hovering over your open lap. His eyes tracked the trail of Soul's release marking your skin, his lips curling into a wicked, devastatingly handsome smirk.

"Look at what a complete mess Soul made of you," Jongseob taunted softly, his voice dropping into a low, hypnotic purr that made your core throb tightly all over again.

He slid down further onto his stomach, propping his weight up on his elbows so his face was perfectly at eye level with your swollen, glistening core. The cool air of the room hit your soaking center, completely exposing you to his intense, heavy gaze.

Jongseob reached out, his thumb lightly stroking the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, making your muscles twitch. He looked up, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a terrifyingly confident promise.

"I'll be gentle," he whispered, his hot breath brushing directly against your folds. "At least... for the first few minutes."

You gasped loudly at the heavy promise in his voice, the sound bouncing off the walls of the quiet hotel room. Jongseob’s smirk only deepened, his dark eyes locking onto yours for a fraction of a second before he flicked his gaze up to Soul, giving a tight, commanding nod.

"Spread her open for me," Jongseob ordered, his voice a low, gravelly rumble.

Soul didn't hesitate. His large, warm hands slid down from your waist, wrapping firmly around the undersides of your thighs. With a smooth, unyielding pressure, he lifted and spread your legs even further apart, pinning your knees back so that your swollen, glistening core was completely bared to Jongseob.

Jongseob licked his lips, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of how thoroughly worked over you already were. He leaned in closer, the tip of his nose brushing against your damp skin before he began pressing featherlight, open-mouthed kisses against your sensitive outer folds. He gave you slow, teasing kitten licks, tasting the sweetness Soul had left behind, all while letting out low, vibrating hums of praise directly against your flesh.

"So wet for us," he murmured, his breath hot and heavy against your skin.

You let out a broken moan, your hips involuntarily twitching against the mattress the moment the flat of his tongue made direct contact with your clit. The sharp spike of pleasure made your toes curl. Behind you, Soul let out a low huff of a laugh, his bare chest vibrating against your back.

"Look at how sensitive she is," Soul chuckled, his fingers tightening slightly on your thighs to keep you perfectly still. "You barely touched her and she's already shaking."

Jongseob pulled back just a millimeter, his lips wet and a dark, wicked smile playing on his face. "She can take more," he told Soul confidently, his eyes locking onto yours to watch your reaction. "Can't you?"

Before you could even try to process a breath, Jongseob dived back in, officially starting to eat you out. His technique was entirely different from Soul’s aggressive, greedy style—Jongseob was agonizingly precise and much slower, using long, deliberate upward strokes of his tongue to map out your anatomy. He knew exactly what he was doing, applying just the right amount of pressure to your clit before swirling his tongue around your entrance, driving you absolutely insane with the controlled rhythm.

You whined desperately, a high-pitched, needy sound tearing from your throat. The slow torture was too much to handle; losing all control, you instinctively arched your hips forward, pressing your dripping core flat against Jongseob's face, practically begging for more speed.

Jongseob let out a fierce, muffled growl against your wet skin at your boldness, his hands shooting up to grip your hips tightly to lock you in place while Soul kept you spread completely open from behind.

He lapped at your swollen clit with broad, heavy strokes, occasionally pausing to press soft, open-mouthed kisses against your sensitive inner thighs, sucking gently on the skin until you were completely delirious.

Your entire body began to shake violently against the mattress. The desperate, building pressure in your lower stomach was turning into absolute torture.

"Please," you sobbed out, your voice cracking as you looked down at his head between your legs. "Please, Jongseob, give me more. Faster."

Jongseob let out a low, vibrating coo against your wet flesh, his lips brushing your folds as he spoke. "No way," he murmured, his voice thick with a dark, satisfied confidence. "Soul already had his fun with you. I’m in absolutely no rush to finish."

To prove his point, he applied just a little bit more direct pressure with the flat of his tongue, swirling it slowly over your most sensitive bundle of nerves. A high-pitched gasp tore from your throat, and you writhed helplessly underneath him, your hips jerking upward in a useless attempt to force a faster rhythm.

Soul, feeling the violent tremors racking your body, let out a soft, low growl into the shell of your ear. His hands tightened on your waist, and he began to slowly, rhythmically rut the thick, rigid length of his cock against the cleft of your ass. The dual friction—Soul’s hard heat sliding against you from behind and Jongseob’s wet, precise tongue working you from the front—shattered the last shred of your sanity.

Losing all sense of caution, your hand flew forward, your fingers burying deep into Jongseob’s soft, dark hair. You fisted the strands tightly, desperately trying to pull his head closer, trying to force more friction, more speed, anything to break the agonizing plateau he was keeping you on.

But Jongseob was unyielding. He let out a muffled grunt into your core at the tight grip on his hair, but he stuck firmly to his controlled, torturous pace, deliberately withholding the fast release you were begging for. He kept lapping, kept sucking, building the tension until the pleasure became blinding.

Suddenly, your vision began to spark with literal stars. The pressure exploded.

Your core violently clamped down as a devastating wave of ecstasy hit you. You sat abruptly up, your back tearing away from Soul’s chest as you let out a loud, uninhibited scream that echoed off the hotel walls. Your walls convulsed in tight, powerful ripples, and your climax crashed over you so intensely that you came fluidly and heavily all over his face.

Jongseob didn't back away. He stayed right there, his eyes closing as he took the full force of your release, letting out a low, deeply satisfied groan against your soaking skin.

Your head was completely blurry, your vision swimming with static as you slowly began to come down from the overwhelming high of your orgasm. Your muscles felt like liquid, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath.

Jongseob didn't give you a moment to recover. He slowly crawled forward, his lips pressing a trail of hot, wet kisses up the inside of your thigh, over your stomach, and up your chest until he was facing you again. His face was flushed, his jaw tight, and your release glistened on his cheeks and chin, making him look dangerously handsome. He reached down, hooking his large hands under your knees to softly wrap your legs around his waist, the broad, blazing hot tip of his length poking directly at your wet entrance.

"Look at me," he ordered, his voice a low, gravelly command.

You forced your heavy eyelids open, your unfocused gaze locking onto his dark, blown-out pupils.

"Open your mouth," he murmured. The moment your lips parted in a breathless gasp, he leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue sliding inside to claim your mouth in a slick, heavy rhythm. Simultaneously, he reached down between your bodies, guiding his rigid shaft forward, and smoothly slid himself all the way inside of you.

You flinched sharply at the sudden, deep fullness, a muted whine caught in the back of your throat as he stretched your walls out all over again. Your hands flew to his bare back, your fingers digging tightly into his shoulder blades to ground yourself.

Jongseob let out a low groan into the kiss, praising you against your lips. He began to move, establishing a slow, agonizingly soft rhythm, his hips rolling into yours in deep, heavy humps that made your core throb.

From behind you, Soul moved closer. He reached his long arms around your waist, his warm palms sliding up to firmly knead your bare breasts, his thumbs rolling your sensitive nipples. Soul leaned his chin on your shoulder, looking over at his member.

"How does she feel?" Soul asked, his voice a raspy, quiet rumble in the dark room.

Jongseob groaned loudly, his head dropping into the crook of your neck for a second as he delivered a deeper thrust. "Fuck... she really feels amazing. So tight."

You let out a long, trembling sigh of pure pleasure, your fingers clenching against Jongseob's back. Hearing your surrender, Jongseob’s eyes darkened completely. He sped up his movements, his thrusts losing their softness as he gripped your thighs, lifting your legs even higher up his waist to alter the angle and drive himself deeper. He leaned down and captured your lips in another bruising kiss, letting out low, vibration hums against your mouth with every heavy push.

He pulled back just an inch, his index finger reaching up to wipe over your bottom lip again, his touch possessive. His pace turned punishing. He began to fuck you harder, the sheer force of his upward thrusts driving your back firmly against Soul's solid chest behind you.

Soul let out a harsh curse as your bodies collided, his hands tightening on your breasts to keep you steady against the impact.

Jongseob’s breathing turned into ragged pants, his chest heaving against yours. He looked down into your dazed eyes, his jaw clenched. "Can you give me one more?" he rasped, his hips relentlessly pounding into you. "Can you come again for me?"

You could only let out a desperate, broken whine, your head shaking as the overwhelming tension began to coil tightly in your stomach all over again.

Jongseob let out a low, wicked chuckle, his grip on you tightening. "Don't whine now," he encouraged roughly, his voice a hot temptation. "Seconds ago you were begging me to go faster. Show me how much you want it."

He sat up a little straighter, shifting his weight. With a swift, powerful movement, he lifted your right leg and draped it firmly over his broad shoulder, completely opening you up. His hands locked onto your hips in a brutal, possessive grip, and he began pounding into you with unfiltered force, his rigid length hitting your sweet spot with a wet, echoing rhythm that completely shattered whatever was left of your thoughts.

With your leg slung high over Jongseob’s shoulder, your body was completely tilted, causing your ass to rub rhythmically against the thick, rigid length of Soul’s erection with every single downward movement. The wet, sliding friction between your skin and his heat made Soul let out a loud, breathless moan right against the back of your neck. He tightened his arms around your waist, pulling you back against his chest to maximize the contact while Jongseob relentlessly pounded into you from the front.

Your moans became louder, turning into frantic, uninhibited cries that filled the dark hotel room. Jongseob looked down at your undone expression, a wicked, triumphant smirk carving his lips.

"Like that?" he rasped, his chest heaving as he caught you looking up at him. "Is that what you want?"

He didn't wait for an answer. His pace turned entirely animalistic, losing all remnants of his previous restraint. He drove his hips forward in deep, heavy, and unforgiving thrusts that bottomed out completely against your core, making the mattress shake.

"Good girl," he growled out, his voice thick and rough with desire. "Look at you, taking all of me while Soul holds you. You’re so fucking greedy."

You completely lost the ability to speak. Helpless under the sheer weight of the pleasure, your hands moved frantically against his bare skin, your nails scratching desperate red tracks down his back as you tried to find any sort of leverage. You tilted your head back, burying it against Soul’s shoulder as your breathing fractured into shallow, desperate gasps.

Jongseob kept pistoning inside of you, his jaw clenched tightly, his eyes completely pitch-black in the shadows. "I'm not stopping," he growled, a dark, possessive promise sliding from his lips as he hit your sweet spot with a punishing precision. "I won't stop until you come again for me."

You let out a broken whine, a sob of pure ecstasy tearing from your throat. Behind you, Soul took advantage of your exposed, arched position. He reached down, his fingers aggressively pinching your stiff nipples, rolling them tightly between his thumbs, while he leaned his lips directly against your earlobe, whispering filthy, explicit things about how wet you were and how beautifully you were taking his member's cock.

The double stimulation was completely overwhelming. Your internal walls began to violently twitch and spasm, locking down around Jongseob’s shaft like an iron vice.

Jongseob felt the intense, suffocating contraction and let out a guttural roar, delivering three more brutal, deep, and punishing thrusts that hit you right in the center of your desire.

Your whole body instantly went rigid. Your toes curled, your fingers fisting tightly into his back as your consciousness completely shattered. You came for the third time, a loud, echoing cry tearing from your lips as your vision exploded into absolute white, your entire frame shivering violently as you completely dissolved under his touch.

The moment your walls stopped their violent, rhythmic clenching around him, Jongseob let out a harsh, ragged breath. He didn't let you rest for a single second. With an aggressive, sudden grip on your hips, he pulled your body abruptly down the bed, dragging you out of Soul's grasp until you were lying flat on your back on the rumpled sheets.

Before you could even blink through the haze of your third orgasm, Jongseob shifted, kneeling directly over your face. His chest was heaving, his skin slick with sweat as he looked down at you with a dark, completely consumed expression. He reached down, his long fingers firm against your jaw as he tilted your head back, and without a word, he shoved his thick, throbbing cock deep inside your mouth.

A muffled gasp was cut off in your throat. Your hands flew up to grip his thighs as he began to pace himself against your lips, driving his length down your throat with a desperate, heavy urgency. You opened wide, your tongue wrapping entirely around him, sucking on him as deeply and greedily as you could manage while his hips slid smoothly against your face.

The wet, frantic friction of your mouth was the final straw for him. Jongseob’s jaw clenched tightly, his eyes snapping shut as his movements turned fast and erratic. With a loud, guttural moan that echoed off the walls, he finally broke, his hips locking forward as he came intensely down your throat.

You gaged a little at the sudden, thick warmth filling your mouth, but you didn't pull away. You kept your lips sealed tightly around him, swallowing every single drop of everything he was giving you until he was completely spent. He thrust a few more slow, shallow times into your mouth, letting out a soft, breathy sigh, before he slowly pulled out, a thin string of saliva connecting his tip to your swollen lips.

"Good girl," he panted heavily, his voice a low, rough whisper as he looked down at your messy, undone state. "You took that so perfectly."

You collapsed back against the pillows, your whole body literally twitching and spasming in violent, uncontrollable aftershocks. Your muscles felt like absolute water, your breathing completely shallow and ragged as the residue of three intense orgasms kept your skin entirely hypersensitive.

As you lay there, a sudden, hot, and viscous sensation began to trail slowly down the bare skin of your back. You let out a weak whine, realizing that behind you, Soul had been watching the entire display from the mattress. The visual of you taking Jongseob had pushed him over the edge for a second time, and he had quietly, intensely come all over your back, the thick heat of his release sliding down your spine.

Jongseob slowly shifted his weight, collapsing onto his side next to you on the bed. Still breathing heavily, he leaned over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss against your flushed, sweaty cheek, his arm wrapping around your waist to hold you close. On your other side, Soul crawled forward, his bare chest warm against your side as he reached out with a surprisingly gentle hand, carefully brushing the damp, sweaty strands of hair out of your face so he could look down into your dazed eyes.

It took a few agonizingly sweet minutes before the room stopped spinning enough for you to find your voice again. You lay trapped between them, your chest still rising and falling in erratic, shallow gasps. Looking from Jongseob’s dark, hooded gaze to Soul’s quiet, self-satisfied smirk, you let out a breathless laugh that sounded more like a wheeze.

"You two... completely ruined me," you gasped out, your voice hoarse and raw from screaming.

Soul chuckled, the low sound vibrating pleasantly against your side as he leaned over you. He reached down, his long fingers idly tracing the sticky, cooling trail of his dried cum across the bare skin of your stomach. "We sure messed you up," he murmured, his dark eyes sparkling with a wicked, unbothered pride. "Look at you. You're still shaking."

"Hey, don't look at me like that," Jongseob interjected smoothly, a playful, lazy grin spreading across his face as he propped his head up on his hand. He nudged your hip gently. "I had the absolute decency to come inside your mouth. Soul's the one who turned you into an art project."

You let out a long, heavy sigh, a genuine smile breaking through your exhaustion even as your thighs violently twitched and shuddered against the tangled sheets. The reality of your situation—lying naked and covered in fluids between two global pop icons—finally settled in, bringing a sudden, lingering doubt to your mind.

You cleared your throat, looking between them. "So... do you want me to leave now? Back to my room?"

Soul and Jongseob instantly burst into a unified, rich laugh that echoed softly in the quiet room. They looked at each other, then back down at you, their expressions filled with genuine disbelief.

"Do you really think that low of us?" Jongseob asked, a teasing edge to his voice. He reached out, his strong arm sliding under your neck to pull you firmly against his bare chest, burying his face in your neck. He pressed a warm, lingering kiss directly into your shoulder blade, his voice a gravelly, dark whisper against your skin. "The night is still going on. We aren't sending you anywhere."

Soul slid closer as well, his long legs tangling with yours under the sheets, his warm chest pressing against your side as he hovered over your face. "We were just getting started," he assured you, his dark eyes holding a heavy, terrifyingly exciting promise of what was to come once you recovered.

Your lower stomach tightened with a sharp, familiar throb of arousal at his words. You bit your bottom lip hard, your hands moving automatically—one reaching up to fist into the soft hair at the back of Soul’s head, while your other hand slid down to rest flat against Jongseob's warm, defined chest.

"If that's the case," you rasped, your eyes shifting between them, "I think I really need to take a shower first. I am a complete mess."

Soul’s smirk widened into something thoroughly wicked. He gave a slight, knowing nod across your body toward Jongseob before looking back down into your eyes, his voice dropping into a low, smoky temptation.

"Go ahead," Soul murmured, his fingers gently tracing the curve of your jaw. "You can pick who gets to join you first."

You let out a soft, breathless laugh, completely captivated by the dangerous game they were playing with you. Instead of answering with words, you tightened your grip on the back of Soul’s neck and pulled him down into a deep, desperate kiss, your tongue sliding past his lips to taste him all over again, while beside you, Jongseob’s large hand began to possessively and gently stroke the soft curve of your waist, waiting patiently for his turn.

A few weeks had bled by since that unforgettable night, and the dizzying adrenaline of the hotel room had finally settled into a quiet, electric hum in the back of your mind. You sat at your office desk, the mundane glow of your dual monitors casting a sterile light over your face as you lazily scrolled through your upcoming schedule and digital calendar. It was a completely normal Tuesday morning—until a sudden shadow fell over your desk.

"Got a delivery for you," the office postman muttered, sliding a surprisingly heavy, sleek cardboard package onto your desk.

"Oh, thank you," you murmured, pulling the box closer.

You spun it around, your eyes scanning the cardboard for a return address or a corporate logo, but the sender section was completely blank. Raising an eyebrow in mild suspicion, you grabbed a pair of scissors and sliced through the packing tape, peeling the flaps back.

Your breath instantly caught in your throat.

Nestled securely in protective foam was a pristine glass bottle of premium white wine, a vibrant, silk red bow tied neatly around its neck. You didn't even need to read the label to know exactly what it was. It was the exact same rare vintage that Jongseob had ordered for you in the lobby—the same bottle he had carried into Soul’s bedroom. A sudden, helpless smirk played on your lips, and you let out a soft chuckle to yourself, your fingers idly tracing the silk of the red bow as a wave of phantom heat rushed across your skin.

"Hey, great work on that feature, by the way!"

The sudden voice made you jump slightly. You looked up to see your managing editor leaning over the partition of your cubicle, holding a mug of coffee and beaming at you with thorough appreciation.

"Oh, thanks," you said, quickly shifting your posture to look professional, though your heart was suddenly beating a little faster.

"No, seriously, the engagement metrics on the P1Harmony social media package are through the roof," your boss praised, shaking her head in press. "Management is thrilled. You really must have done something right during that shoot, because their agency just reached out to us this morning. The group explicitly requested you to host their next exclusive interview when they return to the city next month."

Your jaw went slightly slack, a mixture of genuine surprise and sudden, thrilling panic flaring in your chest. "They... requested me again?"

"Exclusively," your boss nodded with a smile, tapping her coffee mug against the desk. "Keep doing whatever it is you're doing. It’s working. I’ll send the calendar invite over later!"

With a final proud nod, she turned and walked back toward the executive offices. You sank back into your office chair, a breathless, stunned laugh escaping your lips. Keep doing whatever it is you're doing. If only she knew.

Once the coast was clear, you turned your attention back to the open box. You carefully lifted the heavy wine bottle out of its foam casing, and as you did, a small, matte-black card fluttered out from underneath, landing softly on your desk notepad.

Your fingers trembled slightly as you picked it up and flipped it over. Inside, written in a remarkably neat, elegant script, was a short message:

We heard you told Soul that we aren't really your type. We think it’s only fair that we get a chance to change your mind next month. See you soon. — T & J

Your cheeks instantly flamed a bright, furious crimson, the intense warmth making your ears tingle as you stared at the elegant ink. T and J. Theo and Jiung.

Soul and Jongseob hadn't just kept a secret from the rest of the group. True to their word, they really did share everything with each other.

You bit your bottom lip hard, a soft, helpless whine caught in your throat as you closed the card and hid it away in your desk drawer. Looking back at your digital calendar, which was now flashing with a brand-new confirmation notification for next month's interview, a shiver of pure, explicit anticipation racked your entire body. You buried your face in your hands, shaking your head in a mix of utter embarrassment and deep, visceral excitement as you finally realized exactly what kind of beautiful, chaotic trap you had just gotten yourself into.

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@jiungs-wednesdaygirl

@alienslostinworld

@cheezeit-k

@halaziasupremacy

Amused, you picked up a pretzel and tossed it right at his chest. It bounced off his hoodie, successfully breaking his trance. Keeho blinked, startled, and pulled out one earplug, letting it dangle against his shoulder. "Did you just throw food at me?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Can you hand me a can of Coke from the fridge, please?" you muttered, your face still completely fixed on the TV as Stefan Salvatore brooded on the screen.

Keeho let out a soft huff but turned around anyway. He grabbed a cold can from the fridge, walked over to the couch, and extended it toward you. You reached out and took it, your gaze firmly glued to the drama unfolding in Mystic Falls.

"Thank you, Stefan," you murmured automatically.

Keeho froze mid-motion. The hand he had just used to give you the drink stayed suspended in the air. His eyes narrowed into slits as he looked down at you. Slowly, he broke his posture and began looking around the room, peering behind the couch and checking the empty hallway.

Noticing his sudden movement, you finally tore your eyes away from the screen, raising an eyebrow in pure irritation. "What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for who the hell you're talking to," Keeho stated flatly, crossing his arms over his chest.

You blinked at him, genuinely confused. The sheer blankness of your expression made him realize that you actually had no idea what had just come out of your mouth.

"You just called me Stefan," he complained, his dramatic tone fully returning as he pouted.

You stopped for a second, processing his words. Then, the realization hit you, and a bubble of laughter escaped your lips. You started giggling, covering your mouth with your hand. "Did I really say that?"

"Yes, you did," Keeho said, tilting his head and holding his ground with a deeply offended expression.

Your laughter only grew louder at his reaction, but when you saw the stubborn pout forming on his lips, your heart melted a little. You tilted your head and reached your hand out toward him, gesturing for him to come closer.

"I've been watching this for hours," you explained softly, pointing at the TV. "The main character's name is Stefan. And since your English name is Stephen, my brain just kind of short-circuited. It’s similar!"

Keeho let out a dramatic huff. "Do I look like a Stefan to you?" He stepped closer to the television, pointing aggressively between the fictional vampire on the screen and his own face. "Look at him, and look at me. Do we look the same?"

You sighed, setting the soda down, and stood up from the couch. Stepping into his space, you wrapped your arms around his neck, looking up at him with a reassuring smile. "You are way more handsome," you assured him. You leaned in and softly kissed the tip of his nose. "I promise it won't happen again."

Keeho hesitated for a second, trying to maintain his tough exterior, but the warmth of your touch quickly melted his resolve. A soft smile broke through his pout. He leaned down, catching your lips in a sweet, lingering kiss. When he pulled away, he nodded toward the TV. "Fine. But we are definitely picking a different show for the rest of the day."

Theo

The bathroom mirror was slightly fogged from the warm water, but the lighting was perfect for your current mission. Theo sat on the closed toilet seat, his posture stiff, while you stood between his knees with a pair of tweezers in hand. Your face was covered in a thick, drying green clay mask, making it slightly difficult to move your mouth, but you were entirely focused on his left eyebrow.

"I still don't see why this is necessary," Theo muttered, staring up at you with wide, wary eyes. He flinched slightly before you even touched him. "And I'm warning you right now—do not mess my face up. I have a schedule tomorrow."

You chuckled, the dried mask tightening uncomfortably on your cheeks. "Relax, will you? Just trust me. I do this all the time."

Behind you on the counter, your phone was playing a upbeat playlist to pass the time. BOYNEXTDOOR’s latest track was softly echoing through the bathroom, and you absentmindedly hummed along to the catchy rhythm, swaying your hips slightly as you leaned back in to isolate a stray hair.

Snip.

Theo flinched hard, his hand instantly flying up to catch your wrist, though he didn't pull away completely. "Ow! Son of a—that actually hurts! Are you sure you're doing this right?"

You rolled your eyes, gently shaking your wrist free from his grip. "Oh, stop being such a pussy. It’s just one hair."

He frowned deeply, his lower lip putting on a slight pout. "It feels like you're ripping my skin off."

"If you just stay still, it will be over a lot faster," you countered, gently pushing his hand down. You focused your vision again, leaning in close. "Hold on, Taesan, let me just get this last one near the arch..."

The moment the name left your lips, the atmosphere in the bathroom shifted. Before you could even bring the tweezers back to his skin, Theo’s hand shot up again, his fingers locking firmly around your wrist. He didn't pull back this time. Instead, he just sat there, blinking at you a few times in utter bewilderment.

You blinked back, lowering your hand as much as his grip allowed. "What? What's the issue now?"

Slowly, Theo let go of your wrist and stood up, towering over you in the small space. His expression was a mix of disbelief and offense. "You just called me Taesan."

You frowned, your brow furrowing under the stiff face mask. "No, I didn't."

"Yes, you did," he insisted, pointing a finger directly at you. "You literally just called me Taesan. Who even is that?"

You stared at him for a second, your brain quickly tracing back your thoughts. Then, the music playing from the counter caught your attention. You let out a heavy sigh and nodded toward your phone. "We're listening to BOYNEXTDOOR right now. One of the members is named Taesan. My brain just mixed up the names because of the song, okay?"

Theo’s jaw dropped in a dramatic gasp. He placed a hand over his chest. "Wow. Is it because all Koreans look the same to you?"

You stared at him in pure confusion, completely thrown off by the accusation. "What? No! Absolutely not, what are you even talking about?" You sighed, softening your tone. "Look, I'm sorry. Do you want me to write your name down a hundred times on a piece of paper to prove it?"

Theo rubbed the spot between his eyebrows, looking away with a dramatic huff. "Forget it. You just lost the privilege of plucking my eyebrows."

You tilted your head, a small smile breaking through the edges of your clay mask. "You are being so dramatic right now." He didn't answer, just kept looking annoyed, so you stepped closer and wrapped your arms around his waist. "I really am sorry, though."

Going on your tiptoes, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, careful not to get any mask on him. "How about a shoulder massage to make up for it?"

Theo maintained his stoic, unbothered expression, looking everywhere but at you. But after a few seconds, his shoulders dropped just a fraction. "I guess... that is a good start," he muttered, finally letting a small smirk slip.

Jiung

The master bedroom looked like a whirlwind of clothes, toiletries, and half-zipped suitcases had taken over. Jiung stood in the center of the chaos, holding a clipboard in one hand and a pen in the other, his eyes scanning the room with the intense focus of a general preparing for war. He took this trip incredibly seriously, calculating every possible scenario, while you were entirely on the chill side of the spectrum.

"Did you remember to pack the extra chargers? The universal adapter? What about your raincoat?" Jiung asked rapidly, not even looking up as he ticked off a box on his checklist. Before you could even answer, he turned on his heel and began roaming around the apartment to inspect the rest of the rooms.

Exhausted from the hours of preparation, you let out a defeated sigh and dropped down onto the unmade bed, laying flat on your back. You stared blankly at the ceiling, taking a deep breath and begging the universe that this misery would be over quickly. From the kitchen, you could hear the faint sound of his voice murmuring about checking the stove dials and emptying the fridge before the morning.

The relentless checking made you groan in sheer frustration. Wanting nothing more than a moment of peace, you blurted out the first name that popped into your head to make him go quiet. "Jisung! Just come here and relax for a minute!"

The apartment went dead silent.

A few seconds later, you heard soft footsteps approaching. Soon enough, Jiung’s head peeked around the corner of the bedroom door frame. He wasn't looking angry, but his dark eyes were fixed on you with a look of pure, unadulterated bewilderment.

"What did you just call me?" he asked, stepping fully into the room but keeping his distance.

"I said Jiung," you mumbled into the mattress, too tired to lift your head.

Jiung shook his head firmly, tapping the top of his clipboard with his pen. "No. You called me Jisung."

You rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands, the fatigue finally catching up to you. "Did I?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes going wide as he stared at you. "Yes. And I am currently checking my master itinerary," he said, dramatically flipping through the papers on his clipboard. He pointed a finger at the page. "There is absolutely no 'Jisung' on this list. Am I missing something? Did we invite a third person on our vacation?"

You let out a weak laugh and rolled onto your side to face him. "Jiung, please don't make a big deal out of it. I'm sorry okay? My brain is just fried from all this packing."

"It kind of is a big deal when my girlfriend calls me by a completely different name," he countered, though the slight twitch at the corner of his lips betrayed his stubborn, playful attitude. He crossed his arms, waiting for a proper defense.

You held out both of your hands toward him, offering a sleepy, apologetic look. "I already said I’m sorry, babe. I’m way too tired to fight right now. Can you please just come here and cuddle me? I need to get some sleep before we have to leave in the morning."

Jiung let out a dramatic huff, turning right back toward the hallway. "No. You should go ask Jisung to cuddle you instead," he mumbled over his shoulder as he walked away to check the front door locks one last time.

You rolled your eyes at his pettiness and dropped your head back onto the mattress, burying your face in the pillow. Within minutes, the heavy weight of exhaustion won, and you drifted off to sleep.

Of course, Jiung didn't stay away for long. Not even twenty minutes later, the mattress dipped gently beside you. The clipboard was finally abandoned on the nightstand, and you felt a pair of warm arms wrap securely around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest. Jiung buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a soft, contented sigh as he held you tight for the rest of the night.

Intak

The early morning sun peeked softly through the blinds, casting warm lines of light across the tangled sheets. You were cozy, buried deep under the heavy duvet, but Intak had other plans. His chest was pressed firmly against your back, his strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against him. He leaned down, burying his face in the crook of your neck to leave a trail of lazy, teasing kisses that made your skin tingle.

You giggled, squirming slightly against his hold as his morning stubble tickled your skin. "Intak, stop," you murmured, though you made no real effort to push him away. "We actually have to leave this bed at one point today."

"No, we don't," he rasped, his voice thick and deep with sleep. A mischievous grin spread across his face against your shoulder. "I'm keeping you in this bed for the rest of the day."

To prove his point, his fingers dug lightly into your sides, finding your ultimate tickle spot. You yelped loudly, thrashing around in the sheets as a wave of helpless laughter overtook you. Trying to make him stop, you screamed out the first name that popped into your head. "Maki! Stop it, please!"

Intak froze instantly. The playful energy vanished from the room, replaced by a sudden, intense quiet. He frowned deeply and used his grip on your waist to turn you over onto your back so he could look you directly in the eyes. "Who the hell is Maki?"

You were still giggling a little, your chest heaving as you brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face. Seeing his dead-serious, slightly panicked expression, you blinked up at him. "What... did I just call you Maki?"

Intak nodded, his eyes locked onto yours, waiting for an explanation.

"Oh shit, I'm sorry!" you said, offering a sheepish smile. "I totally meant to say Taki. My brain just... glitched."

Intak stared at you for a long moment, processing the correction. He let out a slow nod, the tension leaving his shoulders as he finally dropped down onto his back next to you, staring at the ceiling. Taking the opportunity to smooth things over, you rolled onto your side, propping yourself up to press a sweet, lingering kiss to his cheek. "I'm really sorry, babe."

"It's fine," Intak murmured, reaching up to mindlessly stroke your arm.

Glad to hear he wasn't genuinely upset, you finally decided to drag yourself out of the warm covers. You stood up, stretching your limbs, and walked over to the vanity to grab your hairbrush. As you started running it through your messy morning hair, you heard the mattress creak. Intak propped himself up on his elbow, watching you intently.

"Hey," he called out, his brow furrowing again. "Do you actually know a Maki?"

You paused your brushing, thinking for a second before shrugging. "No, there's just an idol named Maki. I must have seen a video or something before bed."

"Did you mix me up with him?" Intak asked, his voice suddenly sounding incredibly small and vulnerable.

You burst out laughing, turning around to face him. "No! Absolutely not. You're the only one I'm thinking about."

Intak dropped back down onto his pillows, letting out a massive, dramatic sigh of relief. Satisfied, you set the brush down and disappeared into the adjacent bathroom to brush your teeth. You had just squeezed the toothpaste onto your brush when a shadow fell over the doorway. You looked up to see Intak peeking into the bathroom, his expression tight with lingering curiosity.

"Which group is Maki in?" he demanded.

You looked at him through the mirror in pure confusion, a toothbrush halfway to your mouth. You shrugged. "I don't know, honestly. I just know the name."

Intak huffed, clearly unsatisfied with the answer, and marched right back into the bedroom. By the time you finished rinsing your mouth and walked back out, you found him sitting straight up on the edge of the bed, his thumbs flying furiously across his phone screen. He was aggressively Googling 'Maki'.

"Oh my god," you sighed, walking over and immediately snatching the phone right out of his hands. Before he could protest, you cupped his cheeks and pressed a deep, firm kiss right onto his lips. You pulled back just enough to look at him, your hands still framing his face. "Stop this nonsense right now. There is literally no one else for me than you. Understood?"

Intak opened his mouth, clearly wanting to argue or ask another question, but you firmly cut him off. "Enough now!"

He blinked, startled by your finality, but then a handsome chuckle broke through his stubborn facade. "Okay, okay. Fine," he agreed softly. He wrapped his hands over yours, leaning back in to catch your lips in a much sweeter, reassuring kiss that finally put his mind at ease.

Soul

The soft scraping of your pencil against paper filled the quiet room as you sat at your desk, completely absorbed in your latest sketch. You were drawing Yuta Okkotsu, your absolute favorite Jujutsu Kaisen character, meticulously shading the dark rings under his eyes. A soft, mindless melody drifted from your lips as you worked, entirely trapped in your own little creative bubble.

Suddenly, a gentle warmth bloomed against your shoulder. Soul had quietly slipped into the room, carefully setting a freshly brewed cup of hot tea right next to your sketchbook. Before you could even look up, he leaned down and pressed a sweet, tender kiss against your cheek, his soft hair brushing against your skin.

You smiled brightly, your heart swelling at the sweet gesture. "Aww, thank you, Yuta," you murmured automatically, your eyes still half-glued to the pencil lines on the paper.

The room instantly went dead silent.

Sensing the sudden shift in temperature, you turned your head. Soul was frozen in place, his face completely startled, his large eyes blinking at you in utter disbelief. Realizing what had just slipped out of your mouth, you let out a nervous giggle and quickly held up your hands. "Oh my god, I mean Shota! I'm so sorry! I'm just so invested in this drawing right now that my brain completely glitched for a second."

Soul didn't laugh. Instead, his eyes narrowed into dangerous little slits. Without saying a word, his hand slowly reached back out toward the desk. His fingers wrapped around the handle of the mug, and he deliberately took back the cup of tea. He shot you one final, icy glare before turning on his heel and marching straight out of the room.

"Wait!" you called out, turning around in your chair. "Where are you going with my tea?"

When he didn't answer, you sighed, pushed your chair back, and followed him out into the kitchen. You found him standing strictly by the sink. The moment you walked into the room, he locked his gaze deep into your eyes, lifted the mug, and slowly began pouring the hot tea straight down the drain.

"Are you serious right now?" you asked, watching the liquid disappear.

Soul didn't break eye contact for even a fraction of a second until the very last drop emptied from the cup. He set the mug down in the sink with a dramatic clink.

"You are so dramatic," you complained, crossing your arms.

He made a sharp, deeply displeased noise in the back of his throat, crossing his arms right back at you. "Go back to your new boyfriend," he muttered, turning his face away with a stubborn pout.

You ruffled your hair in frustration, letting out a breathless laugh. "Shota, stop being weird! It's literally a fictional anime character. Look, he's on the paper!"

"There is an idol named Yuta, too," Soul countered sharply, snapping his head back toward you to correct you.

You shrugged, completely unbothered. "Well, I wasn't referring to him."

Soul’s eyes narrowed again, pointing an accusatory finger at you. "Ha! You do know him! You just said his name!"

"Because you literally just told me about him two seconds ago!" you protested, throwing your hands up in exasperation. You stepped closer into his space, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck to anchor him. "Listen to me, Haku Shota. I love only you. Just you. Okay?"

He maintained his rigid posture for a second, fighting the urge to soften, but your grip around his neck was too warm to resist. He pouted for one final moment, his lips melting into a tiny, reluctant shape before he finally gave a single, firm nod. "Good."

You smirks a little, glancing over his shoulder at the empty sink. "So... are you going to make me a new cup of tea now?"

Soul let out a soft huff, the tension fully leaving his shoulders as his arms finally wrapped around your waist. "Yes," he murmured, leaning down to bump his forehead gently against yours. "But this is only for you. Not for any Yuta."

Jongseob

The warm steam had completely filled the bathroom, turning the glass shower door entirely opaque. You were just rinsing the last of the body wash from your skin when a sudden realization hit you—you had completely forgotten to grab a fresh towel from the hallway closet before jumping in.

"Jongseob!" you called out, your voice echoing against the tiled walls. "Babe, can you come in for a second?"

A second later, the bathroom door clicked open, and the cool air from the hallway rushed in. "What's wrong?" his voice drifted through the steam.

"I forgot a towel," you admitted sheepishly, poking your head out from behind the shower curtain just enough to look at him. "Can you grab one for me, please?"

Jongseob let out a soft chuckle but nodded, disappearing for a moment before returning with a plush, dry towel. "I put it on the hook right next to the shower," he said, smoothing it over the chrome bar.

"Thanks, Jongho," you murmured automatically, turning back to turn off the water valves.

Jongseob paused mid-step. He raised a single eyebrow in quiet question, staring at the closed shower curtain for a few seconds. However, he didn't say a single word, simply turning on his heel and quietly shutting the bathroom door behind him.

After drying off and changing into a pair of comfortable sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, you walked out into the living room. You found Jongseob sitting on the couch, his eyes fixed on his phone. Flashing him a bright smile, you walked over and leaned against the back of the sofa. "What do you want to eat tonight, babe?"

Jongseob didn't look up from his screen right away. He casually slid his thumb across the display before speaking in a completely monotone voice. "You can pick, Jennifer."

You froze, your smile faltering into a deep look of confusion. "Who the hell is Jennifer?"

Finally, Jongseob looked up, a completely deadpan expression on his face as he tilted his head. "Oh, I don't know. I thought we were just calling each other by different names now, considering you called me Jongho in the bathroom."

You blinked at him, your brain quickly rewinding the tape of the last fifteen minutes. Then, a wave of realization washed over you, and you burst out laughing. "Oh my god, did I really? I'm so sorry! I've literally had that one Ateez song stuck in my head for the entire day, and my brain is just totally fried from work."

Jongseob just let out a petty little huff, shifting his attention back down to his phone screen.

You eyed him up and down, highly amused by his silent treatment, and walked around the couch to sit right beside him. Leaning your shoulder heavily against his, you poked his cheek. "Do you even know a Jennifer?"

"That is not the point," he reminded you sharply, though the tiny twitch at the corner of his lips threatened to ruin his tough exterior.

You bit your lower lip, having to forcefully suppress a laugh at his defense. "Okay, okay, you're right. That's not the point. I'm sorry for mixing up your name, Seob. It really didn't mean anything."

He raised an eyebrow at you again, testing your sincerity. "Really?"

You nodded eagerly, wrapping your arms around his arm. "Really. Your name is the only one I know."

Jongseob let out a soft snort, a handsome smirk finally breaking through his pout. "Okay, that is just a little unrealistic."

You parroted his exact tone back to him, flashing a mischievous grin. "Hey, that is not the point."

He chuckled, finally dropping his phone onto the cushions. Reaching out, he cupped the back of your neck and pulled you into a deep, lingering kiss that tasted like a sweet forgiveness. When he pulled away, he gave you a playful, stern look. "Never do that again."

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@jiungs-wednesdaygirl

@alienslostinworld

@cheezeit-k

@halaziasupremacy

You finally padded over to the bed and slid onto the mattress beside him. Instantly craving a distraction, you turned onto your side, reaching across the nightstand to grab your phone.

Taking immediate advantage of your positioning, Keeho scooted closer until the heat of his bare chest pressed firmly against your back. The sudden contact was electric despite the weather. He reached up, his fingers surprisingly gentle as he brushed the stray hairs away from your shoulder, exposing the sensitive skin of your neck.

"I hate seeing you suffer like this, baby," he sighed, his voice a low, rumbling rasp against your ear.

Before you could reply, his large hands slid down your hips and gave your thighs a sudden, firm squeeze.

"Ah! Keeho!" You yelped in surprise, jolting slightly.

He chuckled, a deep vibration that you felt straight through your spine. He pressed his front even tighter against your back, pinning you pleasantly beneath his weight. He leaned forward to plant a soft, lingering kiss on your cheek, but his hands didn't stay still. They traveled upward, cupping the full curve of your ass. With a sudden, playful flick of his wrist, he smacked your cheek, the sharp sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Fuck," he cursed under his breath, his fingers digging into your skin.

You gasped, your heart hammering against your ribs. You turned your head slightly, looking at him over your shoulder. "What do you think you're doing?"

A slow, wicked smirk spread across his lips. He leaned down, pressing his lips to the sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder, leaving a wet, biting kiss that made your toes curl. "I know how much you hate the summer," he rasped, his breath hot against your skin. His hands continued to stroke your ass, his thumbs teasingly tracing the hem of your shorts, occasionally slipping underneath the fabric to touch bare skin. "But these shorts, though? They're a gift from God."

A breathy laugh escaped your lips. Emboldened by his praise, you shifted your weight and playfully pressed your ass back, grinding it right against the growing hardness in his crotch.

Keeho let out a low, ragged moan, his grip tightening on your hips as he locked you in place. "Yeah? You want to play?" he murmured, his eyes darkening with sudden heat. "I promise I can make the summer a lot more enjoyable for you."

Before you could tease him back, he grabbed your chin, turning your head completely toward him. He leaned in and captured your lips in a sloppy, deep, and bruising kiss, devouring your mouth and completely erasing any thoughts you had about the weather.

Theo

The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the quiet bedroom as you snuggled beneath the covers, scrolling idly through your phone. The door clicked open, and Theo stepped in, looking completely drained from a long day of schedules. He kicked off his shoes and practically melted into the bed beside you, sliding under the sheets with a heavy, exhausted groan.

Instantly, he leaned over and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your lips. "I am so tired," he murmured against your mouth, his voice thick with fatigue. "My entire body aches."

Wanting to comfort him, you set your phone aside and pulled him closer. You shifted your weight, turning completely in his arms so you were facing him. You wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him gently, tasting the mint on his breath, pouring all your affection into the slow movement of your lips.

Theo hummed contentedly against your mouth, his tense shoulders finally relaxing as he closed his eyes, soaking in your warmth. He wrapped his large arms around your waist, pulling your lower body flush against his to anchor you close.

As his palms slid down your back, his fingers brushed against the fabric covering your lower half. He paused, his hands rubbing the soft, tight material of your pants. His eyes fluttered open, and he raised his head slightly, a sleepy but curious look on his face.

"Are those new?" he asked, his voice low and raspy.

You shook your head with a soft smile, shifting slightly so he could feel just how little fabric there actually was. "Nah, they're an old pair of booty shorts. I was just too lazy to pick out anything else tonight."

Theo’s gaze darkened instantly. His eyes dropped down to where his hands were resting, and he bit his lower lip, a sudden spark of hunger replacing the exhaustion in his face.

Amused by his sudden change in demeanor, you teased him lightly. "I should probably buy myself some actual, new pajamas soon, though. These are getting a bit old."

"No," Theo rasped instantly, his voice dropping an octave. Before you could react, he slid his hands down, gripping the fleshy curves of your ass. He flexed his fingers, digging into your skin through the thin fabric and pulling your hips sharply forward until your crotch was pressed tightly against his thigh. "Don't buy anything else. I really, really like these shorts."

A small, knowing smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. You looked up at him through your eyelashes, trailing a finger down his chest. "Oh, really? I thought you were completely exhausted, Theo. Weren't you just complaining about how much your body aches?"

An matching, wicked smirk spread across his lips. Theo didn't hesitate; he squeezed your ass tightly, his fingers sinking deep into the soft flesh, making you gasp softly against his chest. He leaned down, hovering just millimeters away from your mouth, his hot breath fanning over your skin.

"I was," he rasped, his lips brushing yours with every word. His grip tightened, lifting you slightly closer to him as his lower body twitched against yours. "But looking at you in these? You just filled me with a whole new energy right now, baby."

Without giving you a chance to reply, he captured your lips in a deep, bruising kiss. His tongue slid into your mouth, claiming you hungrily as his hands moved beneath the hem of the shorts, eager to feel your bare skin.

Jiung

The bedroom was quiet as you and Jiung wound down for the night, both of you moving around the space to get ready for bed. After brushing your teeth, you padded over to the dresser to change out of your daytime clothes. Digging through the drawers, you bypassed your usual oversized sweatpants and instead pulled on a pair of incredibly tight, black cotton booty shorts.

As you turned around, you caught Jiung watching you. He paused mid-motion, a soft t-shirt halfway over his head before he pulled it down completely. He raised a single, expressive eyebrow, his sharp eyes deliberately raking down your body, taking in the way the fabric hugged your hips and left the lower curve of your ass completely exposed.

"Since when do you wear those to bed?" he asked, a playful tilt to his voice as he crossed his arms over his chest.

You looked down at yourself, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, and shrugged casually. "They're comfortable," you claimed, trying to sound nonchalant.

Jiung didn't buy it for a second. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he stepped closer, closing the distance between you until you could feel the warmth radiating from his chest. He leaned down slightly, his fingers reaching out to grab the stretchy hem of the shorts. With a sudden, playful flick of his fingers, he pulled the fabric back and let it snap smartly against your thigh.

"Ah!" You yelped quietly, jumping a little at the sharp sting.

"Comfortable, huh?" Jiung chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. He leaned in a bit closer, his voice dropping into a teasing purr. "Did you forget to do the laundry today, by any chance?"

"No," you lied immediately, trying to keep a straight face, but your eyes darted away a fraction of a second too late.

Jiung caught it instantly. His smirk widened, full of fond arrogance. "Hey. Look at me," he murmured, his thumb gently catching your chin to tilt your face back up to his. "You know I always know when you're lying to me, right? Your eyes give you away every single time."

Defeated, you let out a soft sigh, a chuckle bubbling up in your throat as you wrapped your arms around his neck. "Fine, you caught me. I completely forgot to do the laundry. All my loose pajamas are in the hamper."

"You're so cute," Jiung cooed, his expression softening instantly. He slid his hands down to your waist, wrapping his arms around you securely and pulling your front flush against his. "Luckily for you, you have me around to take care of things."

You smiled up at him, leaning into his touch. "You really are the perfect houseman, Jiung. What would I even do without you?"

"Probably run out of clothes entirely," he teased. His eyes darkened slightly, the playful banter shifting into something much heavier as his hands began to wander slowly down the curve of your hips. His palms slid over the tight fabric of the shorts, tracing your shape until he firmly cupped the full underside of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh with a gentle, possessive pressure.

He tilted his head, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back down to your legs. "Though, to be honest... those pants actually look really good on you."

You raised an eyebrow, emboldened by the sudden heat in his gaze. You shifted your hips slightly against his hands. "Oh, really? Then maybe I should wait a little longer before I do the laundry next time."

"Mmh, I wouldn't mind that," Jiung murmured against your lips. But as he spoke, his fingers hooked into the elastic waistband of your shorts. Slowly, deliberately, he began to push the thin fabric down past your hips, his warm palms sliding underneath to cup your bare skin. He squeezed your naked cheeks, pulling you tightly against his thigh. "But even though I like the view in those shorts, baby... I definitely prefer you without them entirely."

Before you could reply, his mouth slammed down onto yours, his tongue instantly tangling with yours in a deep, bruising kiss that left you completely breathless.

Intak

Intak sat on the edge of the mattress, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched you move around the bedroom. It was late, and you were finally winding down after a long day, peeling off your stiff daytime clothes to change into something more comfortable. You reached into your drawer and pulled out a loose, oversized tank top and a pair of tight, black booty shorts.

As you slid the shorts up over your hips, the fabric stretched taut, hugging your curves perfectly and leaving the lower half of your ass exposed. Intak’s breath hitched. You started talking about your day, venting about a stressful situation at work, but the words quickly began to blur into background noise for him. His eyes were completely locked onto the rhythm of your hips as you paced around the room. He tilted his head, his gaze intensely tracking the smooth line of your thighs, completely captivated.

At one point, you noticed the glazed, heavy look in his eyes. You stopped walking and waved a hand in front of his face, a small pout on your lips. "Intak? Are you even listening to me?"

The sudden break in your voice snapped him out of his trance. A dark flush crept up his neck and colored his cheeks. He rubbed the back of his neck, offering a sheepish, apologetic smile, but his eyes didn't leave your body. "I'm sorry, babe," he admitted, his voice a little rougher than usual. "I tried, but... I honestly just can't take my eyes off of you right now."

You stepped a little closer, standing right between his parted knees. You looked down at him, trying to maintain a stern expression. "I really want to be mad at you for ignoring me, but I can't when you look at me like that."

A confident smirk replaced his boyish blush. Intak reached out, his large hands wrapping around the back of your thighs to pull you flush against his chest. He leaned forward, burying his face in the soft fabric of your shirt, pressing a row of warm, lingering kisses across your bare stomach. "Well, I am pretty cute," he rasped against your skin, his hands beginning a slow, deliberate descent down your body. "And you are indeed very, very hot."

Before you could laugh at his cockiness, his grip tightened. With a swift, powerful tug, he hoisted you up and pulled you directly into his lap, straddling his thighs. His palms immediately slid under the fabric of your shorts, cupping the full, bare underside of your ass. Intak let out a deep, shuddering sigh, his teeth sinking into his lower lip as he looked up at you. His eyes were dark, burning with a sudden, intense hunger.

"Fuck," he growled under his breath, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. "You are so fucking sexy."

A knowing smirk spread across your face. You placed your hands firmly on his broad shoulders to stabilize yourself, leaning into his touch. Sensing your compliance, Intak gripped your hips and firmly pressed you down, aligning your core directly against the thick, hard ridge growing inside his sweatpants.

A soft, ragged moan escaped his lips at the sudden friction. The sheer heat of him made you gasp, your fingers tightening on his shoulders as you instinctively began to softly grind your hips against him, seeking the same friction.

Intak closed his eyes, his head falling back as a breathless shudder ran through his entire frame. He squeezed your ass tightly, anchoring you against his crotch as you kept up the slow, torturous rhythm. "Baby... please," he begged, his voice a desperate, gravelly whisper against the quiet room. "You can tell me everything about your day when we're done. I promise. But right now... don't stop."

Soul

You were lying flat on your stomach in the middle of the bed, your legs kicked up behind you as you tapped away furiously on your phone. You were completely invested in an online clothing sale, scrolling through items and adding things to your cart with laser focus. Because of the summer heat, you were wearing nothing but a tiny pair of tight booty shorts, which rode up perfectly to display the full, soft curve of your ass.

When the bedroom door opened, Soul walked in, his expression relaxed—until his eyes instantly landed on the view waiting for him. He froze for a fraction of a second, his gaze dropping heavily to your exposed cheeks, and he bit his lower lip as a quiet breath escaped him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice casual but carrying a slight undertone of distraction.

"Shopping," you answered quickly, not even looking up from the screen as you compared two different shirts. "There's a huge flash sale right now."

Soul chuckled, a soft, low sound, and walked over to the mattress. He climbed onto the bed, crawling up beside you to peek over your shoulder at the bright screen. He waited for a moment to see if you would turn to him, but when he realized you were completely hyper-focused on the digital racks, he rolled his eyes playfully. Leaning in close, he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to your cheek.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation, shifting slightly, but your eyes remained locked on your phone. "Stop, let me finish this order really quick."

Soul didn't reply. Instead, he pulled back just enough to let his eyes slowly travel down the length of your spine, his gaze stopping once again at the tight fabric of your shorts. A wicked, quiet smirk spread across his face. He shifted his weight smoothly, straddling your thighs before crawling directly up on top of you, pinning you down with his body.

"Shota, what are you doing?" you asked, laughing a little as his weight pressed you into the mattress, though you still tried to hold your phone up.

"Just go on with your shopping," he murmured against your skin, his voice dropping into a teasing rasp. "Don't mind me. I'll just keep myself busy."

Before you could ask him what exactly that meant, he leaned down and pressed a soft, open-mouthed kiss to the back of your neck. A shiver ran down your spine as his lips wandered slowly over your shoulders, leaving a trail of warm, tingling heat. He slowly crawled down your body, shifting his weight until he was positioned right behind you, face-to-face with your ass.

His large, warm hands slid over your hips, his fingers digging in slightly as he gave your cheeks a soft, testing squeeze. Then, with a sudden, playful flick of his wrist, he spanked you. The sharp sound echoed in the quiet room, followed immediately by his fingers hooking into the waistband of your booty shorts. Slowly and deliberately, he began to peel the fabric down past your thighs.

You gasped, your breath catching in your throat as the cool air hit your bare skin. Soul just smirked, leaning down to press a row of worshipful, biting kisses to your exposed cheeks, his hands softly kneading your flesh.

The warmth of his hands and the friction of his lips made it impossible to concentrate. Giving up entirely, you tossed your phone onto the pillow and turned your head to look back at him. "You know, if you wanted attention, you could have just said so," you gasped out, your cheeks flushing.

Soul grinned up at you, his eyes dark with sudden, intense heat. His hands left your skin for just a moment as he fumbled with the drawstring of his sweatpants, pushing them down just enough to free himself. "Maybe," he rasped, his voice thick with desire as he aligned his heat against you. "But this is way more fun."

Jongseob

The bathroom door clicked open, and Jongseob stepped out into the bedroom, a cloud of warm, clean steam following him. Drops of water still glistened on his broad shoulders, and the only thing he was wearing was a white towel securely slung around his low hips.

As he walked into the room, he stopped in his tracks. You were standing directly in front of the full-length mirror, turning slightly to inspect the tiny, tight pair of black booty shorts you had just pulled on. The fabric hugged your hips like a second skin, lifting and emphasizing the soft curve of your ass.

Jongseob raised an eyebrow, a slow, appreciative grin spreading across his face as his eyes raked down your body. "Well," he murmured, his voice deep and slightly gravelly from the shower. "This is a very nice surprise to walk into."

You chuckled, looking at his reflection in the glass before turning your attention back to your clothes. "I found these shorts at the back of my drawer today. I honestly forgot I even have them, but I’m not sure if they're a bit too much. What do you think?"

Jongseob let out a dramatic, dry sigh. "Awful," he said sarcastically, his tone deadpan as he began walking slowly toward you. "Absolutely terrible. It’s an insult to my eyes, really. Take them off immediately."

You rolled your eyes at his antics, but before you could hit him with a sarcastic comeback, he closed the distance. He stepped up right behind you, the heat of his damp skin pressing against your back. He wrapped his strong arms around your waist, his large, warm palms sliding down to rest directly on your ass. His fingers flexed into the thin fabric, caressing your shape while his dark eyes locked onto yours through the mirror.

Leaning down, he pressed his lips against the sensitive skin just below your ear. "You should know by now how much I love your ass," he rasped, his breath hot against your neck, sending a shiver straight down your spine. "And these shorts? They are making things really, really hard for me right now."

A knowing smirk tugged at your lips. You tilted your head back against his shoulder, meeting his intense gaze in the glass. "Oh, really? And do you mean 'hard' in a purely physical way, Jongseob?"

Instead of answering verbally, his smirk widened into something wicked. He took your hand in his, guiding your fingers down past his stomach, right to the front of his towel. He pressed your palm firmly against the thick, heavy ridge of his cock.

You gasped softly at the sheer size and heat of his erection, your fingers instinctively curling around him through the terrycloth as you bit your lip in satisfaction.

Jongseob let out a low growl at your touch. His other hand stayed firmly on your rear, his fingers kneading the soft flesh through the tight shorts, mapping out every curve. "Look at yourself," he whispered roughly against your skin, his gaze burning into yours in the reflection. "You are so fucking beautiful."

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson at the intensity in his voice. Your breath was growing shallow, and the friction of his hand on your skin was making you ache. "Jongseob..." you rasped, your voice trembling slightly. "We should probably move to the bed."

"Not yet," he groaned. Suddenly, his grip on your waist tightened, turning rough and possessive. He yanked your hips back sharply, burying his hard length flush against the cleft of your ass, pinning you firmly between his solid frame and the mirror. He buried his face in your neck, letting out a ragged moan as the friction hit him. "I think I like the position we're in right now. Watch what you do to me."

Your smirk returned, fueled by the desperation in his voice. Reaching down, your fingers hooked into the knot of his towel, slowly beginning to loosen it.

♡ ⟢ ♡ ⟢ ♡♡ ⟢ ♡ ⟢ ♡♡ ⟢ ♡ ⟢ ♡♡ ⟢ ♡ ⟢ ♡♡ ⟢ ♡ ⟢ ♡♡ ⟢ ♡ ⟢ ♡♡ ⟢ ♡

@jiungs-wednesdaygirl

@alienslostinworld

@cheezeit-k

@halaziasupremacy

You lingered in the doorway for a beat, your heart thumping against your ribs. Slowly, quietly, you padded across the hardwood floor and slid into the bed next to him.

The mattress shifted under your weight. Keeho opened one eye, glancing at you for a split second before looking back up at the ceiling. He didn't move away, but he didn't welcome you either.

You stared at his sharp profile, missing his smile already. Feeling a sudden burst of courage, you leaned forward and pressed a quick, soft kiss to his cheek.

He blinked, another glance darting your way. You caught the unmistakable twitch at the corner of his lips, the faint dimple trying to break through his stoic facade. Still, he stubbornly held his ground, refusing to give in just yet.

Amused and desperate to bridge the remaining distance, you crawled forward and climbed right into his lap. Keeho’s hands automatically rose to rest tentatively on your hips, his instincts overcoming his pride. You reached up, gently sliding the headphones off his ears and letting them rest around his neck.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, leaning down until your foreheads touched. "I was way too harsh."

You didn't wait for him to reply before you pressed your lips to his. For a second, he remained still, but the moment you sighed into the kiss, he completely melted underneath you. His grip on your hips tightened, pulling you flush against his chest as he returned the kiss with a desperate, tender fervor.

When he finally pulled back just enough to breathe, his eyes were soft and filled with relief. "I'm sorry too," he murmured, his voice a little rough as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. "Let's not do that again."

Theo

The kitchen was still ringing with the echo of your voice, the sharp words you had thrown at him hanging like poison in the air. You had been furious, letting your frustration completely blind you until you were saying things you didn't even mean, aiming directly for where you knew it would hurt.

Theo didn’t yell back. He just stared at you, his eyes wide and dark with a mixture of shock and deep hurt. Recognizing that the conversation was no longer productive, he shook his head, turned on his heel, and walked straight out of the kitchen.

You stood rooted to the spot, arms crossed tightly over your chest, your face twisted into a harsh, angry scowl. But the moment you heard the heavy thud of the bathroom door slamming shut down the hall, the adrenaline drained from your veins. The anger vanished, replaced instantly by a cold, heavy weight in your stomach. You sighed deeply, closing your eyes as the reality of your unnecessary cruelty settled in.

Realizing you couldn't let him sit in that hurt, you walked out of the kitchen and followed him. You pushed the bathroom door open quietly and found him standing by the sink, preparing to take a shower. He had just pulled his shirt off, exposing the tense lines of his back.

You didn't say a word as you walked up behind him. Stepping close, you wrapped your arms tightly around his bare waist, burying your face against his shoulder blades.

Theo stiffened for a fraction of a second. Then, a long, weary sigh escaped him, and his shoulders slumped forward. He didn't pull away, but he didn't place his hands over yours either.

"Y/n," he murmured, his voice incredibly quiet and laced with exhaustion.

"I'm sorry, Theo," you whispered against his skin, your heart aching at how defeated he sounded. You pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his bare back, trying to convey all the regret you couldn't fully articulate. "I didn't mean any of it. I was just angry, and I was unfair to you."

Theo closed his eyes, his head dropping back slightly as he absorbed your words. You squeezed him tighter, repeating the apology like a mantra against his skin. "I'm so, so sorry."

Finally, the tension completely bled out of him. He slowly brought his hands up, placing them gently over yours. With a quiet shift of his weight, he turned around within your embrace to face you.

You loosened your arms just enough to look up at him, your eyes searching his face. "I love you," you said softly, wanting to make sure that was the loudest thing he heard after all the shouting.

Theo looked down at you, his gaze searching yours for a long moment until the last remnants of his hurt faded away. A soft expression took over his features. He reached up, gently cupping your face with both hands, his thumbs brushing over your cheeks before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours in a tender, forgiving kiss.

Jiung

The bickering had been petty, sharp, and entirely fueled by both of your stubborn streaks. You had both been incredibly bitchy, throwing passive-aggressive jabs until the tension became too much to bear. Needing space to cool your racing thoughts, you had stormed off into the living room, while Jiung retreated to the bedroom, slamming the door behind him.

After what felt like an eternity of tense silence, the bedroom door finally clicked open. You kept your eyes glued to your phone as Jiung marched out, walking straight past the living room and into the kitchen without giving you so much as a glance.

A moment later, the quiet apartment was filled with the aggressive clattering of mugs and the sharp rattle of plastic. Then came a frustrated, muffled curse.

You couldn't help but chuckle softly, the last bits of your anger evaporating. Jiung was brilliant at so many things, but navigating the overly complicated espresso machine was not one of them. He usually just relied on you to make it, or settled for iced Americanos delivered to the dorms.

Deciding the ice had been frozen long enough, you got up and padded into the kitchen. Sure enough, Jiung was glaring at the blinking digital screen of the machine as if he could intimidate it into working.

Without a word, you stepped up beside him, gently nudging his shoulder with yours as you reached for the portafilter. Jiung let out a soft huff, immediately stepping back and crossing his arms tightly over his chest, his lips pouted in a defiant line.

You expertly ground the beans, tamped them down, and started the brew, the rich aroma of coffee quickly filling the small space. Once the espresso was done, you poured it into his favorite mug and turned around to hand it to him.

Jiung reached out to take it, but right before his fingers could brush the ceramic, you quickly pulled the mug back out of his reach.

He frowned, his eyebrows knitting together as he opened his mouth to complain. But before he could utter a single word, you stepped into his space, tilted your chin up, and pressed a firm, sweet kiss right to his lips.

"I'm sorry," you murmured against his mouth, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. "And I love you."

Jiung looked at you skeptically, his gaze darting from your face down to the hostage coffee mug in your hand, and then back up to you.

"I made it with so much love," you pointed out with a teasing, hopeful smile, nudging the mug toward him again. "It makes a difference, I swear."

He stared at you for a beat longer, fighting the amusement tugging at the corners of his mouth. Finally, he gave in, slowly reaching out to take the cup from your hands. He took a cautious sip, let the warmth settle, and then gave a slow, reluctant nod. "Okay, fine. It actually tastes really good."

You beamed, stepping closer to wrap your arms around his waist. "So... do you love me again?"

Jiung let out a dramatic, exaggerated sigh, setting the mug down on the counter behind him. He looked down at you, his eyes softening into pure affection as he leaned in to kiss you sweetly, his hands resting on your hips.

"You are so lucky that I love you," he whispered against your lips, a beautiful smile finally breaking across his face.

Intak

Fights with Intak were a rarity. He was always such an absolute sweetheart, constantly overflowing with affection, bright energy, and a desperate desire to make you smile. But today, the heavy weight of a miserable, frustrating week had finally caught up to you. Overwhelmed by sheer irritation, you had let your bad mood boil over, snapping at him and letting all your pent-up frustration out on the one person who absolutely didn't deserve it.

The look on his face had instantly crushed you. He had looked so visibly hurt, his dark eyes wide and confused, before a rare flicker of irritation crossed his features. Unable to face the guilt of what you had just done, you had abruptly turned around and left the apartment, going on a long, brisk walk to force yourself to cool down.

By the time you unlocked the front door and stepped back inside, regret was already eating you alive. The quiet apartment smelled incredible, the rich aroma of a home-cooked meal drifting from the kitchen.

You walked in quietly and found Intak standing by the stove. He didn't say a single word when he heard you enter. Instead, with a quiet, stoic demeanor that felt entirely unnatural for him, he placed two steaming plates of food down on the table, pulled out a chair, and sat down to start eating.

You stood frozen, staring at the beautiful plate he had prepared for you even while he was upset. A massive wave of emotion swelled in your chest. Slowly, you crossed the kitchen and sank right down onto your knees on the hard floor next to his chair.

"Taki," you whispered, reaching up to place your hands gently on his forearm. "I am so incredibly sorry. I was frustrated about things that had nothing to do with you, and it was so unfair of me to take it out on you."

He didn't look at you, his eyes remaining fixed on his plate, though his fork stilled. He remained silent, his jaw slightly tight.

Desperate to show him how deeply sorry you were, you slid your hands down to wrap around his large, warm hand. You lifted it up, pressing a long, tender kiss to the back of his knuckles, holding it there as your eyes grew hot. "Please don't be mad. I really didn't mean any of it."

Finally, Intak let out a soft, defeated breath. He turned his head, his gaze meeting yours, and the lingering ice in his eyes immediately melted away when he saw the sheer remorse on your face.

You didn't waste a second. You stood up from the floor, and Intak instantly pushed his chair back to give you room, pulling you straight into his lap. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his shoulder. The moment your arms locked around him, he completely melted into your touch, his strong arms wrapping around your waist and squeezing you so tight you could barely breathe.

When you finally pulled back just enough to look at him, you gently cupped his face with both hands, your thumbs softly stroking his high cheekbones. Intak leaned into your palms, a sweet, familiar smile finally breaking across his handsome face. He gave you a gentle nod, silently assuring you that you were completely forgiven, before leaning up to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

Soul

The apartment had been entirely too loud, or at least, that was how it felt to your overwhelmed brain. You had been trapped in a terrible, dark mood all day, and Soul’s sudden burst of chaotic, hyper energy was sensory overload. He was bouncing around, making weird sound effects, and trying desperately to get you to laugh, completely missing the warning signs. Finally, you snapped. The words that tumbled out of your mouth were sharp, unnecessary, and genuinely mean, slicing right through his playful mood.

Soul didn't shrink back or yell. Instead, he just froze, slowly raising a single eyebrow at you. He let out a short, bitter laugh—a sound completely devoid of his usual humor—before turning on his heel. He walked straight off into the living room, slumped heavily onto the couch, and aggressively grabbed his gaming controller, booting up a match to block you out.

As the frantic sounds of the game filled the room, you took a deep, shaky breath. The anger evaporated instantly, leaving behind a sick feeling in your gut. You had gone way too far. Shaking your head at your own cruelty, you sighed deeply and walked into the living room to fix it.

Hoping to force him to listen, you stepped directly in front of the television screen. "Soul, look, I'm really—"

"You're blocking the TV," he cut you off, his voice flat and monotone as he leaned his head to the side, trying to peek around your torso to see his character on the screen.

You tilted your head, realizing a simple standoff wasn't going to work. Abandoning the defensive posture, you walked over to the couch and sat down right next to him, invading his personal space. "I'm sorry for being such a bitch just now. I didn't mean any of those things."

"Okay," he replied dryly. His eyes remained locked on the flashing screen, his thumbs hammering away at the buttons, completely giving you the cold shoulder.

You sighed, leaning closer until your shoulder brushed his. Deciding to use a different tactic, you leaned in and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his cheek. "You know I actually love how bubbly and exciting you are," you whispered against his skin. "You're the only one who always manages to make me laugh."

Soul didn't budge, keeping his lips pressed in a tight line. Refusing to give up, you began pepper-kissing his face—his temple, his jaw, the other cheek—while murmuring your assurances. "I'm serious. You could never actually annoy me. I was just projecting my bad mood."

Finally, his thumbs stilled on the controller. He gave you a slow, skeptical side-eye, his expression unreadable. "Really?" he asked, his voice dripping with feigned disbelief.

You nodded quickly, leaning in to press another firm kiss right to the corner of his lips.

That did it. A familiar, slightly mischievous smirk finally broke across his face. Before you could even blink, Soul tossed his controller onto the cushions and lunged at you. You let out a squeal as he easily pinned you down against the couch, his weight trapping you beneath him. He looked down at you, his eyes gleaming with his usual playful spark.

"Good," he muttered, a grin spreading wide across his face as he poked your cheek. "Because you won't get rid of me anyway."

Jongseob

The argument had been over something incredibly silly, a tiny spark that shouldn’t have caused a fire. But both of you were already completely drained and stressed out from a relentless week, turning what should have been a minor misunderstanding into a tense, bitchy back-and-forth. Jabs were thrown, eyes were rolled, and by the time it was over, a heavy, uncomfortable cloud hung between you.

As the afternoon bled into evening, the irritation faded, leaving you with the nagging realization that you had been the one to spark the whole fuse. Wanting nothing more than to make amends, you climbed into bed early, waiting anxiously for him to follow.

When Jongseob finally walked into the bedroom, the tension was still palpable. He didn't say a single word, nor did he look in your direction as he methodically went through his nighttime routine. He quietly pulled back the covers and slid into the mattress, immediately turning his back to you to stare at the opposite wall.

You gave him a few minutes of quiet before you carefully slid across the sheets, closing the distance between your bodies. Slowly, tentatively, you wiggled forward until you could place your chin right on his chest, forcing him to look down if he wanted to see your face.

Jongseob shifted, his dark eyes looking down at you. He didn't push you away, but he raised a single eyebrow in a sharp, questioning arc.

"I'm sorry," you whispered, looking up at him with total sincerity.

He let out a quiet, breathy scoff, his lips twisting into a familiar, defensive line. "Really?" he asked sarcastically, his tone dripping with doubt.

You sighed softly and pushed yourself up a bit, sitting cross-legged next to his torso so you could explain yourself properly. "Yes, really. I was just so pissed off about everything else today, and I let it all bottle up until I took it out on you. It wasn't fair, Seobie."

He didn't answer right away, but you watched the rigid defense mechanism in his eyes begin to crumble, his expression softening just a fraction at your vulnerability.

Reaching out, you grabbed his hand where it rested on the blanket, squeezing his fingers tightly. "You know I love you, right?"

A small, knowing smirk finally tugged at the corner of his lips, a stark contrast to his earlier icy demeanor. "Didn't really seem like it earlier," he murmured dryly.

You chuckled softly, the lingering weight in your chest fully lifting. Eager to erase the final bit of distance, you crawled forward and climbed right into his lap. You didn't give him a chance to protest, immediately leaning down to cup his jaw and press a firm, lingering kiss to his lips. "I do. I love you so much," you assured him against his skin.

The last of Jongseob's stubborn resolve melted. He let out a low rumble in his throat, his strong hands suddenly gripping your waist tightly to pull you flush against him. He tilted his head and returned the kiss roughly, molding his lips to yours with an intense, needy fervor that showed just how much he had missed you too.

When he finally let you breathe, his arms stayed securely locked around you. "I'm sorry too," he muttered softly, burying his face in your neck with a relieved sigh. "Let's just sleep."

༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻༺✧༻

@jiungs-wednesdaygirl

@alienslostinworld

@cheezeit-k

@halaziasupremacy

Your instinct screamed at you to look away, but you knew him too well—and more importantly, he knew you. Instead of snapping your head across the room like a deer in headlights, you smoothly let your gaze drift past him, blinking with casual indifference as if he were just another piece of furniture.

Across the room, Keeho’s lips twitched. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. He knew that exact look. He knew the precise level of calculated effort it took for you to pretend he didn't exist, and frankly, he found it hilarious.

"Omg, don't look now," your friend whispered, nudging your shoulder sharply. "But Keeho is literally staring a hole into the side of your head."

You shrugged, taking another slow sip of your drink, acting completely unbothered while your heart did a stupid, familiar flutter in your chest. "Let him stare. I couldn't care less."

"He looks like he wants to come over," another friend chimed in, glancing between the two of you.

You squared your shoulders, straightening your back as a wave of your signature stubbornness took over. You weren't going to let him think he had any power over you.

"I'm going to go find the birthday boy, wish him a good one, and completely ignore Keeho's arrogant ass," you announced, your tone dripping with confidence.

With a sharp nod to your friends, you set your drink down and stepped into the crowd, intentionally moving toward a group of people on the opposite side of the room. You put on your best, brightest smile, throwing yourself into a conversation with an acquaintance you barely knew.

From his spot by the kitchen, Keeho’s amusement faded into something a bit more intense. His chuckle died down, and his facial expression focused. He leaned his hip against the counter, his sharp eyes tracking your every move through the flashing party lights, watching the effortless way you commanded the room—and remembering exactly why it had been so hard to let you go.

The music seemed to grow louder as the night wore on, a heavy bassline pulsing through the floorboards and rattling the framed pictures on the walls. The initial rush of adrenaline from your grand entrance had faded, leaving behind a familiar, restless energy. You needed a distraction, or at the very least, a refill.

Stepping away from the group of acquaintances you had been politely nodding along with for the past twenty minutes, you made your way toward the kitchen. The hosts had set up a makeshift bar on the long dining table, complete with a massive ice bucket, an assortment of plastic cups, and a chaotic rows of mixers and liquor bottles.

You stood in front of the spread, scanning the bottles with a discerning eye. The typical cheap beers and generic vodkas were pushed to the front, but you were on a mission. You started shifting bottles around, looking for a familiar green glass shape. You were specifically hunting for your absolute favorite flavor of soju, already mapping out the exact ratio of the drink you wanted in your head.

"Fresh out of the grapefruit flavor, but there are two bottles of lemon tucked right behind the tonic water," a smooth, deeply familiar voice murmured right next to your ear.

You didn't even have to look up to know who it was. The sudden, distinct scent of expensive cologne mixed with the faint smell of mint laundry detergent gave him away instantly.

Keeho slid effortlessly into the space beside you, his shoulder brushing lightly against yours in a way that felt entirely too natural for two people who hadn't spoken in five months. He reached past you, his long fingers easily navigating the crowded table to pull out a chilled bottle of lemon soju.

"Lemon soju," Keeho said, his voice dripping with that characteristic, playful cadence as he grabbed a clean plastic cup. "With a heavy splash of Sprite. And exactly three ice cubes, because god forbid there is too much ice and the drink gets watered down before you can finish it."

You stopped your searching, slowly drawing yourself up to your full height. You turned your head, fixing him with a flat, unimpressed look. You crossed your arms over your chest, leaning back slightly against the edge of the table.

"What, is that supposed to impress me?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. Your voice was cool, a perfect shield against the sudden spike in your heart rate.

Keeho didn't look bothered by your icy reception at all. He just shrugged, a small, knowing smirk playing at the corners of his lips. He picked up a can of Sprite, cracking it open with a sharp snap that seemed loud despite the background music.

"Not trying to impress you. Just stating facts," he replied smoothly, pouring the soju into the cup with practiced precision before topping it off with the soda. He dropped exactly three ice cubes into the liquid, the ice clinking softly against the plastic. He looked up, his dark eyes meeting yours with a dangerous amount of confidence. "But you have to admit... no one in this room knows you like I do."

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt, letting out a loud, dramatic sigh to make sure he knew exactly how arrogant he was being. "You are unbelievable."

Keeho chuckled, entirely unfazed by the attitude. He picked up the cup and extended his hand, offering it to you like a peace offering. "Drink up. I know you're parched from pretending I'm invisible for the last two hours."

You glared at him, but your hand moved on instinct, taking the cup from his fingers. Your skin brushed against his for a fraction of a second, sending a stupid, unwanted jolt of electricity straight up your arm. You ignoring it, lifting the cup to your lips and taking a long, deliberate sip.

The sharp, sweet kick of the lemon soju combined with the crisp carbonation of the Sprite was perfect. It was exactly how you liked it, perfectly balanced, cold but not diluted. It was, unfortunately, amazing.

You lowered the cup, keeping your facial expression completely blank. Keeho was watching you like a hawk, leaning his hip against the table, his arms crossed as he waited for your verdict.

"Good?" he asked, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

You shrugged casually, swirling the liquid in your cup. "Meh. I’ve had better."

Keeho burst out laughing, a loud, uninhibited sound that momentarily cut through the thumping bass of the party. He shook his head, leaning in just a fraction closer. "Oh, come on. You are a terrible liar. I know that exact look on your face. That’s your 'holy shit, this is delicious but I'd rather die than give him credit' face."

You shook your head in sheer disbelief, staring at him as a reluctant, buried part of you wanted to smile. You fought it down with everything you had, refusing to say a word. Instead, you just took another sip of the drink, using the cup to block your expression.

Keeho smiled, seemingly satisfied with his small victory. He reached over and grabbed his own drink—a simple cup of cola and whiskey—and took a slow sip. The silence stretched between you for a moment, no longer tense and sharp, but heavy with the weight of five months of absolute nothingness.

He looked down at his cup, his posture relaxing slightly, losing a bit of that performing, cocky edge. He looked back up at you, his gaze softer this time. "So... how have you been doing? For real."

The sudden shift in his tone caught you off guard, but it also made a defense mechanism snap instantly into place. You turned your entire body toward him, setting your drink down on the table behind you with a sharp thud.

"Keeho, stop it," you said, your voice dropping into a serious, warning register.

He blinked, genuine confusion flickering across his features. "Stop what?"

"Stop this," you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. "I am really not in the mood for this little dance we always do. I know exactly how this script goes."

Keeho raised his eyebrows, a defensive edge creeping into his own voice. "What script?"

"The one where you ask me how I'm doing, and then you casually ask if I'm seeing anyone," you said, mocking his smooth cadence. "And then I tell you that I'm not seeing anyone, and then you get all cocky and arrogant about it, and then you start flirting with me again because your ego needs the boost." You took a step closer, your stubbornness flaring up, matching the exact energy that used to start our massive arguments. "We have been down this road, Keeho. We spent a whole year on this road. It didn't end well. We fought constantly, we broke up, and I am not doing this with you at a friend's birthday party."

Keeho stared at you, listening to your entire rant without interrupting. For a second, you expected him to fire back with something sharp and witty—because that was what he did, that was what both of you did. You braced yourself for the inevitable comeback.

But it didn't come.

Instead, Keeho just nodded quietly. The cocky smirk was completely gone, replaced by a expression that looked tired, and entirely sincere. He looked at you for a long moment before speaking, his voice quiet and steady beneath the noise of the crowded house.

"I was just interested in how you are doing," he said softly. "That's it. No hidden agenda. No ego trip."

You looked at him, your chest heaving slightly from the speech you had just delivered. You wanted to believe him, but the past was a loud, chaotic reminder of how easily the two of you could miscommunicate. You scoffed, looking away, crossing your arms tightly. "Right. Sure."

Keeho let out a breath that sounded like a half-sigh, half-laugh. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking down at his shoes before looking back at your face.

"Look, I get it," he said, his voice entirely devoid of malice. "I understand why you have your guard up. I know I can be a lot. And I know we had literal bitchfights every single day toward the end. It was exhausting, and it sucked." He paused, swallowing hard, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made it impossible to look away. "But just because we were terrible at being together doesn't mean everything was a lie. I really, truly cared about you. And... I still do. I just wanted to know if you're happy."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy and unexpected. You looked at him in complete confusion, your defenses suddenly crumbling, leaving you feeling exposed in the middle of the brightly lit kitchen. You hadn't expected him to be this vulnerable. You hadn't expected him to just lay it out like that, without a joke or a sarcastic shield.

Keeho watched your expression shift, seeing the confusion and the hesitation written all over your face. He gave a small, sad shrug, stepping back a full pace to give you space.

"Anyway," he said, clearing his throat as he tried to bring back a sliver of his usual casual demeanor. "I'm sorry for how things went down back then. And I'm sorry for bothering you tonight. I'll leave you alone now. Enjoy the party."

He gave you a final, polite nod, turning on his heel. He started to walk away, his broad shoulders moving through the crowd, heading toward the exit of the kitchen.

You stood frozen for a split second, the silence in your head suddenly louder than the music. You looked at his retreating back, and a wave of realization hit you. He was right. It wasn't just him who had made things difficult. It wasn't just his ego or his temper. You were just as stubborn, just as quick to snap, just as guilty of turning every conversation into a battlefield.

"Keeho, wait," you called out.

The music almost swallowed your voice, but he stopped instantly, as if he had been listening for it. He turned around slowly, looking at you through the crowd with a questioning glance.

You let out a long, heavy sigh, running a hand through your hair. You took a step toward him, closing the distance he had just created.

"You wasn't the only one who loved to pick a good fight," you said, your voice softer now, a quiet confession meant only for him. "I gave as good as I got, and I know I wasn't exactly easy to deal with either."

A slow, genuine smile began to spread across Keeho's face—not the arrogant smirk from before, but a real, warm smile that reached his eyes, making them crinkle at the corners. It was the smile you had fallen in love with in the first place.

You sighed again, though this time there was a faint, reluctant smile tugging at your own lips. You turned back to the table, picking up the plastic cup he had made for you. You held it up, looking at the lemon soju swirling against the three lone ice cubes.

You looked back at him, raising the cup slightly in a silent toast.

"And for the record," you said, your voice loud enough to carry over the music, "this drink is fucking amazing. You nailed it."

Keeho's smile widened, a familiar, playful spark returning to his eyes. He didn't walk away anymore. Instead, he took a step back toward the bar, his drink held firmly in his hand, ready to finally have a real conversation.

The noise of the party seemed to fade into a dull hum as the two of you managed to claim a pair of mismatched chairs in a relatively quiet corner of the dining room. Sitting down across from him felt both incredibly strange and entirely too natural, a bizarre echo of the hundreds of nights you had spent tucked away in booths or on living room couches just like this.

You took a small sip of your drink, the lemon soju taking off the edge of your initial defensiveness, and started talking. You told him what you had been up to over the last five months—the new projects you had taken on, the shift in your routine, and how you had finally gotten around to fixing up your space. Keeho listened intently, nodding along, before sharing his own updates. He talked about his hectic schedule, the chaotic trips he’d taken with the guys, and the new music he’d been throwing himself into. For a little while, it was just a normal, casual conversation between two people catching up.

But as the liquid in your cups drained and the refills were poured, the easy-going dynamic began to shift, steering right back into familiar territory. The conversation inevitably drifted toward the elephant in the room: your past relationship.

"Honestly, we were an absolute menace to society," you laughed, leaning back in your chair as you remembered the sheer intensity of your old arguments. "We couldn't even agree on what to watch on TV without it turning into a full-blown courtroom debate."

Keeho threw his head back, laughing loudly. "A debate? Please, you were ready to call character witnesses just to prove your point. We were constantly at each other's throats. Everything we did turned into a literal catfight."

"Because you always had to have the last word!" you countered, pointing a finger at him, though your tone was entirely lighthearted.

"Me? Having the last word?" Keeho gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest as if deeply offended. "You are the queen of the parting shot! Which reminds me..." A wicked, playful glint sparked in his eyes, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Speaking of things we never agreed on... we never actually settled who was right about the correct way to fold towels."

Your face dropped instantly. The phantom annoyance of a year-old argument flared up in your chest, and you glared at him, pointing a strict finger in his face. "Keeho, I swear to god—"

He just smirked, highly amused by how quickly he could still rile you up.

You stared at his smug face for a tense second before the absurdity of it caught up to you. A sharp laugh burst from your lips, and you shook your head, dropping your hand. "No. Absolutely not. I am not going there again. We are not doing the towel debate at a birthday party in the year 2026. I refuse."

"Smart choice," he chuckled, shrugging his shoulders casually as he leaned back in his seat. He took a slow sip of his drink, his eyes locked onto yours over the rim of his cup. He swallowed, a lazy, confident smile returning to his lips. "Well, thankfully... the sex between us was amazing. At least we never fought about that."

The sudden, unfiltered honesty of his words caught you completely off guard. You paused, the cup halfway to your mouth. A heat that had nothing to do with the alcohol crept up your neck, but you weren't about to back down or act flustered.

You slowly finished raising the cup to your lips, taking a deliberate sip of the sweet lemon soju to buy yourself a second. You lowered it, letting out a soft, thoughtful hum as you nodded your head in agreement.

"Yeah," you confessed, your voice dropping just a fraction. "It really was amazing."

Keeho let out a low chuckle, his dark eyes instantly darkening with a sudden wave of heat. The playful banter evaporated for a split second, replaced by a thick, heavy tension. You both exchanged a long, loaded glance, the unspoken memories of tangled sheets and breathless mid-argument make-outs hanging vividly in the air between you.

The silence stretched for a beat too long, charged with a familiar, dangerous friction. Breakup or no breakup, the chemistry hadn't faded a single bit.

Keeho was the first to break the heavy silence, clearing his throat with a faint smirk as he raised his cup. You matched his movement, lifting yours, and the two of you clinked your glasses together before taking another drink, both of you silently acknowledging that despite all the fighting, some things were just undeniable.

The midnight air was sharp and cool, a welcome relief from the stifling heat and loud music inside the house. After spending the last couple of hours catching up with your friends and properly celebrating the birthday boy, you had finally reached your limit for the night. You slipped your jacket over your shoulders, hugged everyone goodbye, and stepped out onto the quiet sidewalk.

The street was relatively empty, illuminated only by the amber glow of the streetlights. You pulled out your phone, preparing to call a ride, and looked down the block to see if any empty cabs were passing by.

Behind you, the heavy front door of the house clicked open, followed by the muffled sound of the bass spilling out into the night before shutting again. Heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel path. You turned your head, watching as Keeho stepped out into the cool air, adjusting the collar of his jacket.

He spotted you immediately. He offered a quiet, easy nod, the playful arrogance from earlier entirely replaced by a relaxed, late-night calm. He walked over, stopping a polite distance away from you on the sidewalk.

"Heading home now too?" he asked, his voice a low rumble in the quiet night.

"Yeah," you replied, shoving your hands into your jacket pockets. "Well, not home exactly. I'm crashing at a hotel tonight. It was just closer to the venue."

Keeho raised his eyebrows, a look of sudden realization crossing his face. "I'm staying at a hotel tonight, too."

You both exchanged a quick look, and within three seconds of comparing names, you figured out that you were actually booked at the exact same place. Of all the hotels in the city, you had somehow managed to pick the identical one. It was just a classic testament to how similarly your brains worked—even when you were entirely apart.

Just then, the bright yellow light of an empty cab appeared down the street. You stepped closer to the curb and waved your arm, signaling the driver. The car slowed down, its blinker clicking rhythmically as it pulled up to the curb right in front of you.

Your hand hovered over the door handle, and an intense internal battle immediately flared up in your mind.

Just get in, your pride told you. You said goodbye. Keep your boundaries. Don't be ridiculous, your practical side argued. You're going to the exact same building. Taking two separate cars is just petty and a waste of money.

You squeezed your eyes shut for a fraction of a second, letting out a breath that fogged up slightly in the cold air. You fought with yourself for one final moment before losing the battle to pure logic.

Swallowing your stubbornness, you turned your head back to look at him. "Do you... want to just share? Since we're literally going to the exact same place anyway."

Keeho looked a bit surprised, but a soft, appreciative smile quickly replaced it. He didn't make a smug comment, and he didn't tease you about breaking your own rule. He just nodded genuinely.

"Yeah," he said softly. "That sounds good. Let's share."

He stepped forward, opening the cab door for you. You slid across the vinyl seat, and he climbed in right after you, shutting the door behind him and cutting off the chill of the night air. As the driver pulled away from the curb and into the quiet streets, the sudden closeness of the car envelope you both, the familiar scent of his cologne filling the small space.

The steady hum of the cab's tires against the asphalt was the only sound filling the quiet, dimly lit vehicle. You leaned your head back against the headrest, staring fixedly out of the side window as the city lights blurred into long, neon streaks through the glass. Next to you, Keeho was doing the exact same thing, his profile quiet and contemplative as he looked out at the passing buildings.

In the heavy silence, your mind began to drift, and before you could stop yourself, the flashbacks started.

At first, your brain did what it always did when you thought about him—it went straight to the battlefields. Images of your worst arguments flashed behind your eyelids. You remembered the sharp, biting words thrown across your living room, the exhausting slamming of doors, and the toxic thrill of how effortlessly you two could rile each other up. It was a vicious cycle of stubbornness that had ultimately torn you apart.

But as the cab turned a corner, the neon lights casting a warm glow over the interior, the memories unexpectedly shifted.

Suddenly, you weren't remembering the shouting matches anymore. You were remembering the quiet Sunday mornings when he would make you laugh so hard you couldn't breathe, his loud, infectious giggle filling the apartment. You remembered the fierce, unwavering way he always stood up for you, acting as your biggest protector whenever the world got too loud. Most of all, you remembered the soft, rare moments when the walls came down—how he made you feel completely safe, entirely understood, and deeply seen in a way no one else ever had.

A sudden, tight ache formed in your throat. You swallowed heavily, trying to force the nostalgia back down where it belonged.

Needing a distraction from your own thoughts, you turned your head just a fraction of an inch. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched him. Keeho was still staring out of his window, his chin resting casually in his hand, looking completely lost in his own world. You wondered if he was replaying the exact same tape in his head.

Afraid he would catch you staring, you quickly averted your gaze, looking straight ahead at the driver's dashboard.

The moment your head turned away, Keeho slowly shifted his posture. He let his hand drop from his chin and turned his face toward you. His dark eyes, quiet and filled with an unreadable intensity, locked onto the side of your face, watching you in the dim light of the cab.

The ride from the cab to the hotel lobby passed in a haze of unspoken tension. The only sound was the synchronized click of your shoes against the polished marble floor as you both walked toward the elevators. Neither of you said a word.

When the metal doors slid open, you stepped inside, and Keeho followed right behind you. You reached out and pressed the button for the 11th floor; he leaned past you, his arm brushing yours, and pressed the 12th.

The elevator began its smooth, quiet ascent. The silence inside the small, enclosed space was deafening, thick with the weight of the memories from the cab and the heavy, undeniable friction that had been building all night. You kept your eyes glued to the digital floor indicator as the numbers ticked upward, but the mirrored walls of the elevator made avoidance impossible.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you. You shifted your gaze, your eyes locking onto his in the reflection. For a few seconds, neither of you blinked. The intensity in his dark eyes was fierce, matching the frantic rhythm of your pulse. You looked away first, staring at the floor, only for him to break his gaze a moment later. It was a silent, agonizing game of tag, exchanging loaded glances with every passing floor.

Ding.

The elevator chime broke the spell as the digital display lit up with the number 11. The doors slid open.

You took a shallow breath, gripping the strap of your bag. You stepped out onto the plush carpet of the hallway, then paused and turned around to face him. "Good night, Keeho."

Keeho stood in the center of the elevator, his hands shoved deep into his jacket pockets. His expression was completely unreadable, a storm of thoughts brewing behind his eyes. He gave you a slow, quiet nod. "Good night."

You turned on your heel and walked down the long, dimly lit corridor. You found your room number, pulling the keycard out of your pocket. As you stood in front of the door, your hand hovered over the electronic lock, and you found yourself looking back down the hallway toward the elevator bank.

A traitorous, deeply buried part of you wished the doors wouldn't close. You wished he would step out. You wished you didn't have to spend the rest of the night alone with the ghost of your relationship.

Down the hall, the heavy metal elevator doors slowly began to slide shut, sealing him away. You let out a long, shaky sigh, the disappointment settling heavy in your chest. You pressed your keycard against the lock, listening for the electronic beep, and began to push the door open.

Thump.

A sudden, sharp mechanical noise echoed through the quiet hallway.

Your head snapped back around. Down at the end of the corridor, Keeho's arm was thrust firmly between the closing elevator doors. The sensors triggered, and the metal doors instantly retracted, sliding open once more.

Your breath caught in your throat, trapping the air in your lungs as Keeho stepped out into the hallway.

He didn't hesitate. He let out a heavy, frustrated sigh—the sigh of a man who had tried to be logical, tried to follow the rules, and completely failed. His long strides ate up the distance between you, his eyes locked entirely onto yours, burning with a sudden, reckless determination.

Your heart hammered against your ribs as he closed the gap, your back pressing flat against your half-open hotel door.

"Keeho, wait—" you breathed out, but the words were completely stolen from your lips.

Before you could finish the sentence, he reached you. He didn't say a word. His hands came up, his long fingers instantly cupping your face, his palms warm and firm against your cheeks. He leaned down and crashed his lips against yours.

The impact was electric, a sudden explosion of all the pent-up frustration, longing, and fierce passion that had been simmering between you for five long months. It was a collision of familiarity and desperate need, and the moment his mouth moved against yours, your hands instantly flew to the lapels of his jacket, pulling him even closer as the hotel door clicked all the way open behind you.

You stumbled blindly through the threshold of the room, the heavy wood door swinging shut behind you with a loud, final click as Keeho kicked it locked without ever breaking the kiss. The moment the latch caught, the last shred of restraint evaporated. You pulled him back against you, your hands burying themselves into his hair, angling his head to deepen the kiss. It was hungry, messy, and entirely desperate—the frantic release of five months of forced indifference.

Keeho groaned into your mouth, his hands moving to your waist to lift you slightly before driving you back against the nearest wall. The impact jarred you, but the solid weight of his body pressing flush against yours only made you pull him closer. Your hands scrambled frantically at the fabric of his jacket, shoving it off his shoulders until it pooled on the carpet. Without a second of hesitation, your fingers tore at the top buttons of his shirt, popping two of them loose in your haste.

A low growl tore from the back of his throat. In one fluid, powerful motion, he grabbed your hips and spun you around, pressing your chest flat against the wall. His chest came down hard against your back, trapping you. Your breath hitched as his fingers found the zipper at the back of your summer dress. With one rough, impatient tug, he yanked it down to your waist.

The sudden rush of cool air against your bare skin made you gasp. The sheer intensity of how rough he was being sent a familiar, addictive thrill straight down your spine.

"This... this absolutely means nothing," you panted into the drywall, your head tilted back as his lips found the sensitive junction where your neck met your shoulder. "We are not getting back together, Keeho."

"Shut up," he muttered against your skin, his hands sliding inside the fabric of your dress to push it down past your hips.

You stepped completely out of the crumpled fabric, turning back around to face him in just your underwear. Keeho’s eyes darkened, a predatory look crossing his face as he scanned your body. Before you could utter another word of protest, his hands gripped your face again, his thumbs tilting your chin up.

"You talk too much," he rasped, his voice rough and completely wrecked.

A sharp, confident smirk played on your lips. "Then make me stop."

You pulled him down into another bruised kiss, your fingers working with feverish speed to rip open the rest of his shirt. He shrugged out of the sleeves, tossing it aside, leaving his broad, bare chest exposed. You pressed your palms flat against his warm skin, feeling the frantic, heavy thud of his heart, and began to push him backward.

Keeho let you guide him, taking heavy steps back until the edge of the mattress hit the back of his knees. He fell back onto the bed, propping himself up on his elbows, his dark eyes burning into yours as you stood tall at the bedside.

Slowly, deliberately keeping eye contact, your hands reached behind your back. You unclasped your bra and let it slide down your arms, dropping it carelessly to the floor. Keeho’s breath hitched, his jaw tightening as he watched you.

You didn't give him time to recover. You climbed onto the bed, straddling his lap, and bowed down to capture his lips again. The kiss was sloppy, wet, and heavy with heat. You shifted your weight, intentionally grinding your hips down against his covered cock.

Keeho let out a loud, guttural growl straight into your mouth, his hands locking onto your hips like iron vices, trying to force you still. But you knew exactly what he loved. You knew every single shortcut to breaking his control.

Abandoning his lips, you slid your mouth down to his neck. You trailed hot, biting kisses up his jawline until you reached the sensitive skin right under his ear. You nipped at it softly, capturing the flesh between your teeth before soothing it with your tongue.

A choked, helpless moan escaped his lips, his head snapping back against the pillows as his grip tightened on your hips, completely surrendered to the friction you were creating.

The friction between your bodies was entirely too much, a burning fuse that had finally run out. Sliding down his chest, you moved lower, your hands dropping to the leather of his belt. You unbuckled it with eager, impatient fingers, popping the button of his pants and greedily tugging the denim down past his hips, taking his boxers along with them.

Keeho kicked his legs free, his breath coming in ragged, shallow pants as he lay exposed beneath you. You took a lingering look at his rigid cock, fully aroused and pulsing in the dim light of the hotel room. A familiar thrill of power shot through you. Tosseling your hair back over your shoulders, you moved between his thighs, leaning over him.

You leaned down and pressed your tongue to the warm skin at the very base of his shaft, slowly licking a wet, deliberate stripe all the way up to his tip.

Keeho arched off the mattress, a loud, uncontrolled moan tearing from his throat. His fingers instantly dug into the bedsheets, his knuckles turning white.

Before he could even recover from the touch, you wrapped your lips around him, taking him deep into your mouth. You started sucking him off with a greedy, rhythmic hunger, your tongue swirling around the sensitive head.

A guttural groan echoed through the room. Keeho's hand flew to the back of your head, his long fingers tangling gently but firmly into your hair. He didn't push, but his grip guided the frantic pace of your movements, his hips twitching upward instinctively.

He missed this so much it was physically aching. He missed the heat of your mouth, the effortless way you knew exactly how much pressure to apply, and the intoxicating reality that even after five months apart, you still held his entire body completely at your mercy. It drove him absolutely insane, his head thrashing against the pillows as you dragged him closer and closer to the edge.

You didn't slow down, intentionally quickening the pace as your hands gripped the base of his thighs for leverage. Moving smoothly, you took him entirely into the back of your throat, deepthroating him with a confident, practiced ease.

Keeho let out a loud, completely undone groan that rattled in his chest. His fingers tightened in your hair, his voice dropping into a ragged, breathless whisper. "Fuck...fuck you're insane."

He watched you through half-lidded, dark eyes, his chest heaving as the friction brought him dangerously close to the point of no return. But Keeho was never one to stay passive for long. The sheer intensity of the pleasure crossed the line into torture, and his notorious impatience won the battle.

Before you could take him down again, his hand gripped the back of your neck and firmly pulled you up and off of him. He shifted up on the mattress, his fingers sliding forward to grip your jaw, tilting your head up to force you to look him dead in the eye. He was breathing rapidly, his nostrils flaring as he stared at your flushed face and wet lips.

"My turn," he breathed out, the words a low, heavy promise.

He leaned in and crashed his mouth back over yours, kissing you deeply and filthy, his tongue sliding inside to claim your mouth with a wild, possessive hunger. A soft gasp escaped you, but it was immediately swallowed by his lips.

Without breaking the kiss, Keeho hauled you further up onto the mattress, his powerful frame easily shifting your weight until he flipped you both over. You landed flat on your back against the rumpling sheets, your breath rushing out of you as he loomed over you like a shadow.

He didn't give you a second to catch your breath. He slid down your body, his large hands gripping your thighs and spreading your legs wide. His fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, slowly and deliberately pulling the damp lace down your legs before throwing them carelessly over his shoulder.

Getting down on his stomach between your thighs, Keeho hooked his arms under your knees, lifting your legs up and draping them over his broad shoulders. The position exposed you completely to his gaze, your core slick and aching for his touch.

Keeho leaned in, his hot breath fanning against your sensitive skin for a torturous second before he pressed a firm, open-mouthed kiss directly to your heat, making your hips instantly arch off the bed with a breathless cry.

The sensation of his hot tongue making direct contact with your wet skin sent an electric shock straight through your core. Keeho began to eat you out with a steady, relentless focus, and a wave of intense familiarity crashed over you. You remembered instantly how incredibly good he had always been at this—how he never rushed, how he treated it like a competitive sport he was determined to win.

He varied his rhythm with maddening precision, shifting from broad, wet licks that coated your thighs to concentrated, heavy suction right on your clit. Your hands flew to his head, your fingers burying themselves into his thick hair, sometimes pulling him closer, sometimes pushing him away as the pleasure grew too sharp to handle. Keeho let out a low, vibration-heavy hum against your wet skin, clearly pleased by your reaction, before continuing to absolutely devour you.

You arched your back completely off the mattress, your heels digging into his shoulders as a sudden gasp tore from your throat. He had reached down with his hand, using his fingers to gently but firmly spread your inner folds wide, exposing you completely. With his other hand gripping your hip, he flicked the flat of his tongue rapidly over your hypersensitive bundle of nerves before flattening his tongue into a sharp point and pushing the tip straight inside of your aching entrance.

The heat and pressure of him mimicking penetration with his tongue was too much to take lying down. Propelling yourself up on your elbows, you sat up a little and looked down your own body.

The sight of him made your breath completely hitch, your core clenching painfully with desire. Keeho was down on his stomach, his face entirely buried between your thighs, his jawline sharp and glistening with your own slick. His dark eyes suddenly shifted upward, catching you watching him through his messy bangs. A dark, wicked look crossed his features as he kept his tongue buried inside you, completely turned on by how desperately you were unravelling beneath him.

Seeing you watch him only fueled his drive. Keeho intensified his movements, his tongue striking your clit with a faster, harder rhythm while his fingers worked deep inside you. The friction was relentless, a perfectly targeted assault that sent you flying over the edge. Your vision blurred as your hips bucked off the mattress, a loud, undone cry tearing from your throat as your orgasm crashed over you in heavy, violent waves.

Keeho didn't pull away. He kept his mouth locked to you, licking you through the intense contractions, helping you ride out every single spasm of pleasure until your legs finally trembled against his shoulders.

Panting heavily, he crawled up your body and pushed himself up on his knees. He leaned down, catching your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss that tasted entirely of you. You groaned loudly into the kiss, your hands frantically grabbing at his waist, pulling him as close as physically possible until the last of your strength gave out and you dropped flat onto your back.

Keeho followed you down, his heavy frame landing flush on top of you. The heat radiating between your bodies was suffocating. He shifted his hips, his large hands anchoring your thighs wide apart as he guided his rigid length down, pressing his thick tip directly against your swollen, soaking entrance.

A loud, breathless moan escaped your lips at the sheer contrast of his hard length against your sensitive skin.

Keeho didn't make you wait. Holding your gaze, he let out a low grunt and pushed straight into you. Your walls gripped him tightly, slick and accommodating, stretching to take all of him. You let out a high, ragged moan, and Keeho echoed the sound with a deep, guttural groan of his own as he finally bottomed out, buried completely inside you.

Keeho didn't waste a single second. Reaching up, his large fingers securely tangled with yours, pinning your hands flat against the mattress above your head. With you completely locked beneath him, he shifted his weight and started to pump into you.

He didn't ease into it; he immediately began thrusting roughly, his heavy, relentless pace driving deep inside your aching core. A high, needy whine tore from your throat. He looked down, his dark eyes fixed entirely on your face, watching with a dark sense of satisfaction as your features grimaced in pure pleasure.

"Kiss me," he growled, the raw friction of your bodies driving him over the edge. "Come here, kiss me."

You pulled your head up, and your lips met in a frantic, bruising make-out session, your tongues colliding just as fiercely as your hips. The familiar taste of him, mixed with the desperate rhythm of the sex, made everything feel entirely too consuming.

Wanting a better angle, Keeho reached down without breaking the kiss, grabbing one of your thighs and lifting your leg significantly higher over his hip. The shift allowed him to penetrate you even deeper. His thrusts became harder, the slaps of your skin colliding echoing loudly through the quiet hotel room.

The overwhelming pleasure made you lose all sense of control. Pulling your hands free from his grip, you brought them down to his bare back, your fingernails clawing into his skin in sheer desperation as he drove you into the mattress. Keeho let out a sharp hiss as your nails scratched his shoulders, but the pain only made him smirk, his pace turning even more aggressive.

Before you could completely unravel, Keeho gripped your waist tight. In one powerful, seamless motion, he rolled both of you over.

Suddenly, you were the one sitting on top of him. You yelps loudly at the sudden shift in gravity, instantly bracing your palms against his solid, sweat-slicked chest for balance. Keeho didn't give you a moment to adjust; his hands locked onto your hips from below, pulling you down while he thrust fiercely upward into you.

You threw your head back, your hips moving in a wild, uncoordinated rhythm as he met you stroke for stroke. Keeho let out a dark growl, his head resting against the pillows as his eyes stayed glued to the breathless, beautiful sight of your bodies colliding in the dark.

Leaning down, you pressed your chest flush against his, the frantic, bruising speed of the moment naturally giving way to a sudden, heavy gravity. The furious pace slowed down just a little, the frantic edge melting into a deep, agonizingly passionate kiss. Every ounce of unsaid longing, every lingering feeling you had spent five months burying, and the raw love that had never truly faded flowed between your lips.

You began to shift your weight, moving your hips in slow, deliberate rolls against him, riding him with a smooth, torturous rhythm that had Keeho letting out a breathless groan. He reached up, his long fingers surprisingly gentle as he brushed a stray lock of hair out of your damp face. He looked up at you with an intensity that burned, before pulling you down to kiss you lovingly, his mouth soft and adoring against yours.

You moved in perfect sync, two pieces of a puzzle that still fit together flawlessly despite all the jagged edges. Unable to stay flat on his back any longer, Keeho used his core strength to sit up, wrapping his powerful arms tightly around your waist and burying his face in your neck.

With him holding you so close, the friction intensified. You started moving harder and faster against him, your breath hitching as he began to trail hot, open-mouthed kisses across your chest and along your collarbone.

A high, breathless moan escaped your lips, followed by a needy whine as the pressure built rapidly in your lower stomach. "Keeho... I'm close," you mumbled against his shoulder, your fingers digging into his hair. "I'm so close."

He let out a low, vibrating hum against your skin, his grip on your hips tightening. "Go ahead, baby," he rasped.

To push you over the edge, he started thrusting upward to meet your downward rhythm, his sharp movements making you yelp loudly. The dual friction was too much; your walls clamped around him tightly as you came again, your vision blurring as a violent wave of pleasure rippled through your entire body.

"Don't stop, don't stop," Keeho begged against your lips, his voice completely broken. Your orgasm was squeezing him so hard he could barely breathe.

Spurred on by your release, he took full control of the rhythm, thrusting into you aggressively from below. His pace was relentless, a desperate race to the finish line as your bodies collided heavily in the center of the bed. After a few more hard, deep strokes, Keeho stiffened completely beneath you. He let out a loud, guttural moan that echoed off the walls, throwing his head back as his own release tore through him, filling you completely while you both clung to each other in the dark.

The silence of the room returned, broken only by the sound of your ragged, synchronized breathing. Your strength completely gave out, and you slumped forward, landing heavily against his chest. Keeho's arms automatically wrapped around you, his large hands resting flat against your bare back, holding you flush against him as his chest heaved up and down beneath you.

For a long few minutes, neither of you moved. The air was thick and warm, the euphoria of the release slowly settling into a heavy, comfortable exhaustion.

Slowly, you braced your forearms against his chest and raised your head, looking down at his face. His hair was a messy, sweat-dampened disaster, his lips were swollen, and his eyes were soft and remarkably content.

You swallowed hard, trying to summon back at least a sliver of the stubborn pride you had started the night with. You narrowed your eyes slightly, fixing him with a serious look.

"This," you panted, your voice still a little breathless, "still doesn't mean we are getting back together. Don't get any ideas, Keeho."

Keeho stared up at you for a beat. Then, a low, breathlessly amused laugh rumbled right through his chest. The familiar, playful crinkle returned to the corners of his eyes, but there was no mockery in it this time—just pure warmth.

He reached up, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck to guide your head down. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss right to the center of your forehead.

"Whatever you say," he murmured against your skin, a lazy, captivated smile playing on his lips as his arms tightened around your waist, pulling you right back down to sleep against his chest. "I do whatever you say."

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