𝒦𝒪𝑅𝒜

Your ex-boyfriend’s voice made any strength you had in your arms leave as you attempted to push the boxes into the large blue bin. He didn’t live in your complex. In fact, you had moved out of your shared apartment with him, which was at least a 20 minute drive away. It should surprise you that he would show up uninvited and unannounced, but after a five year relationship with him, you knew he was persistent. 

Wiping your hands off on your jeans, you clear your throat and turn to meet the man’s eyes before looking for how you were going to get out of the situation. You weren’t afraid of your ex; it was more that he didn’t know when to stop. You had told him time and time again, after a very messy breakup where you had caught him cheating, that you wouldn’t take him back. It didn’t make it any easier that you had the same profession as him and when things had been great, the two of you had applied at the same place. 

“Alex… wild seeing you here. You don’t even live here.” 

He knew you were being evasive. You did the same thing at work, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t still try. Persistence was key. There had been something there between the two of you that made a relationship last for as long as it did, and if he worked hard enough, he could get it back. At least that’s what he thought. 

Sighing, Alex watches you turn away from him, heading back towards the building. Following behind you, he groans when you shoot him a dirty look. 

“Babe, seriously? I’m looking at the apartments in the area. I thought I’d just stop by and say hi.” 

Rolling your eyes, you use your body to shield the keypad so you can type in the code to unlock the complex’s door, hearing the code get denied, once and then twice. You were flustered and hitting the wrong buttons. 

“Sure, whatever. You have a perfectly fine apartment, and don’t call me babe. I’m not your babe.” 

When you can’t seem to get into the building, Alex sighs again, reaching out to try to comfort you, but he only manages to make you uncomfortable as he grabs your arm, telling you to calm down. You look to the door surprised to see it opening, a larger man furrowing his brows at the sight in front of him before you give him a relieved and pleading look. 

"Oh, thank God, hi honey. Alex, have you met my boyfriend?” 

Tilting his head in confusion, Seungcheol looks between you and the man holding your arm before he sees the desperation on your face. You were in some sort of distress. He knew you lived in the building; in fact, you were his neighbor, though he hadn’t had much of a chance to speak to you yet. Seungcheol knew he could say he didn’t know you, go on his way, staying out of your business, but something about you and what was happening told him he needed to play along. Extending his hand towards the one around your arm, Seungcheol gives the man a tight warning smile. 

“Hey man, I’m Seungcheol.” 

You feel Alex’s hand slide from your arm, his brows furrowing at the new information. Watching the two men, you feel your heart in your throat as they shake hands and the man named Seungcheol moves closer to you with a smile, looking at you expectantly.

“It was great to meet you Alex, but uh...” Clearing his throat, Seungcheol tries to think about how to get you out of this without making you uncomfortable. Shrugging, he sighs and just goes for it. “I was just coming to see why you had been gone for so long. Dinner is ready.” 

Your cheeks burn as Alex stares at you, his eyes narrowing. You can tell he is almost looking for holes in your and Seungcheol’s story, but when you smile and Seungcheol puts his arm around your shoulders, Alex rolls his eyes. You weren’t sure if he actually bought the entire story on the spot, but it had been enough to get him to put his hands in his pockets and for him to back up, muttering. 

“I’ll see you at work, Y/N.” 

Offering your ex a strained smile, you lean into Seungcheol until Alex is out of sight. Taking a deep breath, you feel the pressure of being around him lift off of you before you glance up at Seungcheol and give him an apologetic look. Moving his arm, Seungcheol chuckles and shakes his head, turning back towards the door and using his keyfob to open it for you, letting you slip by him. 

“Uh…thank you. Seriously. I’m so fucking sorry to drag you into that.” 

Leaning against the metal doorframe, Seungcheol just smiles and shrugs. His eyes stay on yours as you walk backwards for a few steps towards the elevator. 

“My pleasure, honey. Have a good evening.” 

You can’t help the smile that spreads across your lips when the handsome man teases you. Backing into the elevator door, you laugh and shake your head, turning to press the button before glancing back to look at Seungcheol, still watching you for a moment before he waves and lets the door shut, leaving you alone. 

Finally, in the elevator, you can take a breath as you lean against the wall. With each soft ding of the elevator as it climbs the floors, you chew at your lips and laugh under your breath at how the exchange between you and Seungcheol has ended. It was silly for you to feel so smitten by someone who had just helped you out of a hard situation, but god had he been attractive. 

Walking towards your apartment, you sigh, taking your key out of your pocket as you glance to the door next to yours. Your brows furrow as you remember the first few days when you had moved into the apartment complex and you had met your neighbor in passing. He had been nice, asked you if you needed any help, but most of all, he had been attractive. Feeling your heart sink into your stomach, you picture the face of the man who had asked if you needed help moving boxes and it’s the same face that had pretended to be your boyfriend. 

“Sara!” 

Jutting your hip to the side, you barely manage to let one of your students run by you as he heads straight for a friend. Smiling at the interaction, you don’t notice the boy's father trailing behind him, a small backpack in his hands. 

“Matthew… You need to apologize to your teacher. I know you are excited, but still watch where you are going.” 

Shaking your head, you start to turn around towards the somewhat familiar voice when the small boy pouts up at you. He is so cute that you can’t stop yourself from squatting down to his level to smile at him and adjust his small tie on his uniform. 

“‘M sorry, teacher. I haven’t seen Sara all summer. Daddy wouldn’t let me stay at her house because I’m a boy.” 

You find yourself nodding along with his words, sympathizing with him until you can’t help the small laugh that slips from your lips. 

“It’s okay, Matthew. There will be plenty of time to play with Sara at school. Cut your daddy some slack, okay?” 

Ushering him along, you watch him for a moment longer, half turning towards the boy's father but still not quite looking at him. You have a habit of watching your students more than you do their parents, it would only take a second for a five year old to find trouble. 

“Don’t worry about Matthew. No harm done.” 

Seungcheol grins at you as you watch the kids so diligently. He had no idea that you were his son’s teacher; this was a happy surprise, or perhaps an awkward one. He hadn’t really made up his mind yet. It isn’t until you finally glance at him and your mouth falls open in confusion that Seungcheol presses his lips together and winces at your reaction. 

“Didn’t know your boyfriend had a kid, huh? Is that a deal breaker?” 

You can feel your cheeks burning at Seungcheol’s joke, but your eyes quickly move over him before you give yourself something else to do by reaching for Matthew’s bag. It was better if you kept yourself busy and just did your job. Laughing a bit awkwardly, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes and bite at your lip out of nerves as he lets you take the bag and you move to the small wooden cubbies to find Matthew’s name. 

“Uh… I will be honest, I didn’t. I’m sorry again, by the way. Even more so now. I swear to you, I’m not a complete mess; I’m a good teacher.” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol finds himself frowning when you seem to find the need to explain yourself and defend your position. He hadn’t meant to cause that reaction. 

“I—no… I’m sure you are. I’ve heard nothing but great things about you leading up to today. I apologize… that was rude of me. I was just trying to make a joke. Break the tension.” 

Feeling a pang of guilt at your reaction as Seungcheol frowns, you take a deep breath and shake your head. You didn’t want him to feel bad. It just wasn’t the most ideal situation to find yourself in with a parent. Running your fingers over your hair, you press your lips together and scrunch up your nose, drawing Seungcheol’s attention to it. He smiles, finding the expression on your face cute. You were cute. 

“No, no, I know. I’m sorry. I’ve only been here a couple years and this is my first year without working in someone else's classroom. I just don’t wanna mess up.” 

Seungcheol nodded, understanding the feeling—perhaps not in the same profession, but he had been there in his own way. Gesturing towards the kids, Matthew in particular, as your eyes once again move over the kids, more of them making their way in, he shrugs as he speaks. 

“With how you have been watching them... I don’t think we have a single thing to worry about.” 

He finds himself wanting to stay, if not just to talk to you but also to Matthew. It was his first day of big boy school, and even if Matthew looked like he was doing just fine with the adjustment, Seungcheol couldn’t say the same for himself. One glance at his wrist, seeing how much time he had spent standing in the classroom, however, makes Seungcheol sigh and run his fingers through his brown hair. 

“I gotta go. I should get out of the way anyway. Matthew…” 

Hearing his name, the small boy perks up and looks towards his dad with a grin before making his way over. Ruffling his hair, Seungcheol practically pouts, making your heart feel heavy. This part was hard, even for you. You didn’t have children of your own, but the sentiment was still there when you watched loving parents leave their children for the day. 

“I love you. Please be good. Learn somethin’?” 

Giggling, Matthew leans into his dad’s touch and rocks on the balls of his feet as you take a step away to give them a moment to themselves. 

“Love you too. I’m so smart, Daddy. Teacher will be suppised!” 

Rolling his eyes at how cocky his son sounds, Seungcheol groans under his breath and looks at his watch again. 

“Yeah, alright, it's 'surprised’ and stay away from Uncle Jeonghan. Learn some humility.” 

“I don’t know what that means, Daddy.” 

Your small laugh draws Seungcheol’s attention and makes him grin as he ushers Matthew towards you. 

“I bet Miss Y/N knows and she will let me know if you’ve put it into practice when I pick you up after school.” 

Winking at you, Seungcheol turns to head out the door, glancing over his shoulder to wave at you as he goes. Looking down at the small boy with an expectant look in his eye, you bite at your lip and try to think about how you are going to explain humility and modesty to a five year old on a Monday morning. 

“That’s so good!” 

You clap as you watch a few of your kids preen with pride after counting to ten. They had been working hard after recess and a snack. It had been a good first day and you were proud of each and every one of them, even if you couldn’t help how your eye kept going to Matthew. He was so cute—not that all the kids in your class weren’t; there was just something about his gummy smile that reminded you so much of his dad. 

Looking up at the clock as the bell rings, you quickly look back at the kids, who mostly look confused until the door opens and parents start to file in. 

“Hey! Everybody… I know you want to see your parents, but let’s remember to grab our bags. Cubbies first, please!” 

You watch as most of the kids listen to you, moving in small lines to the wooden cubbies to grab their jackets and bags before finding their parents and heading out the door. Bending to pick up a few toys, you furrow your brows when you hear your name. It’s said by a small, familiar voice—Matthew, who pouts at you when you finally meet his eyes. He looks around, seeing most of the room clearing out, but his dad is nowhere to be found. 

“Hey, what’s up? Maybe your daddy is running late. Maybe mommy is coming?” 

Shaking his head, Matthew gives you a confused look as he tugs at the bag on his shoulder. 

“I don’t have a mommy. Can you call my daddy?” 

Feeling a pang of guilt at mentioning his mother, you squat down to Matthew’s level so he doesn’t have to tilt his head back to look up at you anymore. You knew you could call Seungcheol if you needed to, but school had just ended. Maybe you could give him a few more minutes. Reaching for Matthew’s bag, you sigh and offer the boy a smile, watching him match it with that cute gummy grin. 

“How about we give him a few more minutes and if he doesn’t come, we can call him? You can pick any book you want and I’ll read it to you.” 

The idea of choosing any book in the room is enough to make Matthew okay with your terms. Wiggling out of his bag, he goes to the shelf, looking over the book covers as you stand and put his bag on the table with your purse. Checking the clock, your brows furrow with a sigh. It wasn’t that late and you were sure this wouldn’t be the last child you would be waiting for. 

Cursing under his breath, Seungcheol looks at his watch as he speed walks through the school halls towards your classroom. He was over 30 minutes late and he was sure you were upset with him. He should have called but he was more concerned with trying to get to the school in one piece. 

Reaching the door, he starts to speak when he hears your soft voice and for some reason, it makes him stop in his tracks. He sees Matthew sitting in your lap as he rests back against your chest, a book in your hands. You smile as you read the book, trying to come up with a voice for each character, making his son laugh. Seungcheol almost feels bad for interrupting the moment, but then he feels bad again for leaving you here at work with Matthew for so long. 

“Y/N…”

Lifting your head, hearing your name, you smile at Seungcheol, feeling Matthew slip off your lap and run towards the door. You were definitely second best, but that was completely fair. Seungcheol holds the back of Matthew’s head as the boy wraps his arms around his legs and pouts up at him, asking him where he’s been. 

“I got caught up at work; I’m so so sorry. It won’t happen again.” 

Moving towards the table, you pick up Matthew’s bag as you shake your head. 

“It’s no problem. It happens. Maybe you could just text me to let me know if you are gonna be late?” 

Nodding, Seungcheol lets out a breath, lifting his hand to rub at the back of his neck. You were right. 

“No… yeah, absolutely. I’ll make it up—” 

“Oh! Hey… Seungcheol, right?” 

Your smile fades hearing Alex’s voice as you watch Seungcheol’s brows furrow in confusion. Moving quicker towards the door, to hand Seungcheol Matthew’s bag and get his attention, but his eyes move to your ex. 

“I—yeah… I gotta get Matthew home.” 

Looking towards you as if asking for an explanation, Seungcheol takes the bag from your hand while ushering his son out the door. You try to let him go, gesturing towards the hall, when Alex scoffs and gives him a once over muttering under his breath. 

“Seriously, Y/N? A parent...” 

Swallowing hard, you feel your chest tighten when Seungcheol stops in his tracks. You wouldn’t blame him if he told Alex it was all bullshit right there. It would be smart of you to do it, he wasn’t going to let it go either way. Starting to speak, you stop when Seungcheol is quicker, keeping his voice low as he smirks at Alex. 

“Is there a policy against that, Alex?” Glancing at you, Seungcheol reaches out to grab your hand, squeezing it lightly, winking at you before dropping it. “See you later, Y/N.” 

Your cheeks burn as you watch Seungcheol walk down the hall with Matthew. The young boy glancing back to smile at you curiously before looking up at his dad and saying something you can’t make out. Beside you, Alex’s jaw tightens as he watches you keep your eyes on the man leaving. What he wouldn’t give for you to look at him like that again. 

“There should be a policy against it…” 

Shooting him a look, you turn towards your classroom, your hand on the doorframe as you speak. 

"Well, there isn’t, Alex, but there is one about harassment. Leave me alone.” 

You watch his mouth open and close a couple of times as you close the door in his face, leaving you in peaceful silence to wrap your mind around what had just happened.

Wiping sweat from your brow, you glance around your living room at the boxes that had once been piled up in a corner. It had been difficult to tell if you were moving in or out, but as you broke down, one last box signified that you had officially settled in. It had only taken you months to do it, and for some reason this Saturday felt like the right moment; everything was feeling like home in this apartment for once. 

Grabbing as many of the boxes as you can, you let out a groan at how many trips you are going to have to take as you make your way to your front door and push it open with your shoulder. Cursing under your breath to the sound of your keys hitting the floor at your feet, you try to lean down without putting down the boxes when a hand brushes over your fingers, taking your keys from you. Before you are able to say anything, your eyes meet Seungcheol's, and your lips pull up into a shy smile. 

“Your hands seemed full.” 

Nodding as you take the keys and slip them into your back pocket, you don’t notice Seungcheol glancing into your apartment, seeing the pile of boxes. It isn’t until he clears his throat, gesturing inside, that you tilt your head curiously.

“Want me to help with the rest? I think we can get them all down to the bin in one go.” 

Your first instinct is to tell him no, that you don’t want to bother him, but there is a look in his eye that you don’t want to turn him away. So you step out into the hall and smile at Seungcheol instead. 

“I mean, if you are really offering.” 

Laughing, Seungcheol nods and slides past you, glancing around your apartment with a grin before he leans down to pick up the larger pile of boxes, heading back towards you. 

“It’s not a big deal, Y/N. I was hoping to talk to you today anyway.” 

Moving through the hall with Seungcheol at your side, you use your elbow to press the elevator button, your head once again tilting to the side, almost like a puppy hearing a new word as you listen to him speak. He wanted to talk to you. You try to think of the reason, but only one comes to mind.  

“Is it about Matthew?” 

Pursing his lips briefly, Seungcheol quickly smiles at your assumption and nods to cover up any doubt. You weren’t wrong in thinking he would want to talk about his son. You were his teacher, it was only fair that he would be the topic of normal conversation. 

“Mmm, he loves school. I think you are the main reason.” 

Shaking your head, you step off the elevator and head for the main doors out of the apartment building with Seungcheol in tow. When you stop to lean your boxes against the wall, opening the door for him, Seungcheol smiles at you as he moves through the door, only to stop and hold it open for you with his foot. 

“Thanks, but no... I think it’s his friends. He loves hanging out with Sara.” 

Seungcheol lets the door close behind you before trailing along at your side as he shakes his head. He knew how much his son liked his friends, but there was something different about Matthew since he had started school. 

“It’s more than that. He’s eager to get there. He can see Sara anytime, and that doesn't have to be at school. He wants to get to Miss Y/N’s class.” 

Feeling your cheeks heat up, your lips pull up into a smile that you are unable to hide even as you look down. It was one thing to be told you were good at your job; it was another to hear that a student wanted to go to school because of your class. It was everything a teacher wanted to hear. 

Watching Seungcheol push his boxes into the bin, you run your fingers along the underside of one of the boxes still in your hands. You weren’t sure if he even understood the gift he had given you while helping you with a mundane task that you had been dreading. Glancing down, you take a deep breath, hoping the butterflies in your stomach will calm down when Seungcheol’s voice brings you back to reality. 

“Here, let me put these in there too.” 

Meeting his eyes, you swallow hard, feeling his fingers glide over yours as Seungcheol takes the boxes from your hands. When you glance away with a small smile on your lips, he takes notice. Pushing the rest of the boxes into the bin, Seungcheol bites at his lip, trying to choose his words carefully, before he turns back to you and scratches at his brow. 

“Anything else to throw away? Is what’s his name lingering around? I can toss him in too.” 

Feeling your cheeks burn, you scoff into a laugh as Seungcheol moves back to your side. Walking in tandem towards the building, you glance up at him, shaking your head as he laughs, along with you leaning to knock your arm with his to let you know he is joking. 

“Alex… and thankfully he isn’t. God, I am so sorry about all of that. I shouldn’t have gotten you involved to begin with.” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol purses his lips, watching you take your keys out to tap your fob against the reader, letting him open the door for you. 

“It’s not a big deal. You seemed really uncomfortable. I was happy to help… I mean, I still am. He strikes me as the type to not give up easily.” 

Scoffing once again, you follow Seungcheol to the elevator, leaning against the wall as you meet his eyes. That was an understatement. If he was able to tell from just a couple of meetings with your ex, that should say plenty about Alex’s character. You find yourself allowing your eyes to move over Seungcheol’s face, his handsome eyes, and his plump lips before you sigh and look down at your hands as the elevator steadily climbs the floors. 

“He’s not. He thinks that’s a redeeming quality.” Sighing into your words, you push off the wall as the doors open, stepping out into the hall as Seungcheol follows you. “But he’d be wrong. I couldn’t ask you to help me anymore. You’ve done so much.” 

Offering Seungcheol a smile, you walk backwards for a moment as he tilts his head, his own smile lifting at one side as his eyes move over you. You were so cute; he knew it was dangerous this game he was playing. He wanted to get close to you and he knew there were better ways, this had just been the one that had been presented to him. 

“You didn’t ask. I’m offering… Speaking of, you busy this evening?” 

Shaking your head, you slide your keys from your pocket as you watch Seungcheol lean against his door. You can’t help but notice the way your eyes once again move over him. He was possibly the most handsome man you had ever seen and also the most unattainable. You needed to remember who he was and the boundary that was set, even if it was blurred. 

“Mm, no. Why? Need some help with Matthew?” 

Seungcheol sighs into a laugh. It wasn’t unfair that you’d assume he wanted to ask you something involving his kid, but he just smiles as you look at him curiously, as if realizing for the first time that Matthew isn’t around. 

“Oh… no. He’s with my parents this weekend. I was gonna ask if you wanted to come over for dinner?” 

Your brows furrow at Seungcheol’s question. That boundary was getting even more blurred as you considered his question and he seemed to see you struggle before he laughed and bit his lips before speaking up again. 

“We can talk about how to pretend to be a good fake couple. You know, for appearances sake. Maybe get Alex to get a life.” 

While Seungcheol’s explanation wasn’t entirely convincing, you smiled and nodded. In truth, you didn’t want to turn down the dinner invitation. You didn’t want to tell Seungcheol no and that you didn’t want to spend more time with him, even if Matthew wasn’t involved. It was a dangerous line you were walking. 

“Great! Uh… around 6?” 

At 5:55 you were considering texting Seungcheol to tell him that you had suddenly come down with the flu. Your anxiety was causing your heart to rise into your throat as you tugged at your shirt, trying to make sure you looked decent. 

With your hand hovering over the door, you whine to yourself before knocking lightly at Seungcheol’s door and waiting. Maybe he would make it easier on you and just not answer the door, but then the idea of that makes you frown. You hate the idea of not being able to spend the evening with Seungcheol. Even the idea of something disrupting it causes disappointment to bubble in your stomach until the door opens and you are met with his handsome face and a gummy smile that matches your favorite one of Matthew’s. 

“Hey, you look—uh… I mean, you look pretty. Come in.” 

Seungcheol stumbles over his words, the flush of his cheeks evident as he shakes his head, trying to keep his head and not overstep with you. He knew where he stood and where he wanted this to go, but you had made yourself pretty clear the first day in your classroom. You were his son’s teacher and now this situation... It was odd. Seungcheol was just happy to at least have you in his life as a friend, if not more. 

Swallowing hard, you look down to hide your smile as Seungcheol compliments you. You weren’t sure how to react, so instead you pressed your lips together and gestured outward to his apartment. 

“Your place is so nice.” 

Shrugging, Seungcheol leads you towards the open kitchen and living room area where, the dinner, he has been working on bubbles quietly on the stove. You watch him adjust the temperature and stir a sauce as he sighs, tilting his head. 

“It’s a mess. I should have cleaned up more. I don’t usually have company besides a few friends, but they are used to Matthew’s shit laying around. Here, do you like this?” 

Holding the wooden spoon out towards you over the bar, Seungcheol watches as you blink at him a couple times before leaning forward to take a bit of the sauce off the spoon. It is savory and delicious as it hits your tongue and the back of your throat. Closing your eyes, you nod and lift your fingers to brush them over your lips as he watches you with a smile on his face at your reaction. 

“It’s delicious, Seungcheol.” 

Turning down the heat even more, Seungcheol moves to the sink to strain another larger pot as you watch him closely. His voice is calm and soothing. Everything about him makes you feel almost instantly comfortable in a space where you thought you’d want to hide under the table without a reason to truly be there. 

“I don’t know if it’s all that great. You are being nice, but this is my go to for dinner. Matthew likes pasta and I’m halfway decent at it. So I hope you actually like it.” 

Licking your lips, you lift your hand to cover your smile as you watch Seungcheol putting the finishing touches on dinner. He moves with ease, his eyes catching yours every once in a while, making your skin erupt in chillbumps as you glance away shyly. You could feel yourself getting too comfortable around him if you were to let your guard down, and that was all your body was telling you to do. 

“Mind to grab a couple of those wine glasses?” 

Glancing to your right, you shake your head gently before collecting two of the fragile glasses as Seungcheol moves past you towards the table. You hear your stomach growl as the smell of the pasta and garlic bread greets your nose when you get close enough to set the glasses down. Smiling, Seungcheol sneaks a look in your direction, watching your brows furrow and your lips turn down in embarrassment as he hears the grumble coming from your stomach. 

“I—sorry. I didn’t eat lunch.” 

Shaking his head, he picks up the bottle of wine, twisting the opener into the cork as he takes a breath to cover a small laugh. Seungcheol swore he could feel the effects of the alcohol before even taking a sip, with you standing so close to him and with how sweet you were. He knew this was a dangerous arrangement. Not that either of you would be doing anything wrong, but as the moments ticked by, it was getting difficult not to give into lingering glances. 

“You have nothing to apologize for. Except perhaps to yourself. You need to eat regularly, Y/N.” 

Groaning playfully, you hold the glasses steady, allowing Seungcheol to easily pour wine into each before he moves your chair, letting you sit down first. You can feel your cheeks flush up into your ears. The sound of blood rushing to your head has your hand reaching for your wine, bringing the glass to your lips to take a sip of the liquid courage as Seungcheol lifts your plate, putting pasta on it with an appreciative hum. 

“Thank you. I promise, I’m usually better about eating... and I always make sure the kids eat their lunch and snacks at school. So don’t think my own behavior somehow reflects—” 

Moving his hand from the serving fork, Seungcheol slides it over yours, meeting your eyes as you start to ramble. You were spiraling and there was no reason for it. 

“Hey… I know you are a good teacher. I don’t worry a single moment in the day about Matthew’s wellbeing when I know he’s with you. Don’t worry about that.” 

Taking a deep breath, you flex your fingers under Seungcheol’s palm, feeling his hands wrap around yours as his brows furrow. You can see the look in his eye and how he’s searching to make sure you understand what he’s told you, so you nod. Even if you didn’t completely feel adequate, you needed Seungcheol to let go of your hand before you fainted into his floor or made a run for the door. 

“Mmkay… I–mm…” Smiling, trying to compose yourself, you watch Seungcheol’s hand move from yours to his wine, making you feel like you can take a breath. “The wine is very good. Thank you for inviting me to eat.” 

Letting the wine glide over his tongue, Seungcheol smiles against the glass. He had noticed that you were starting to panic, but so was he. It hadn’t been his intention, but the alternative was you feeling like you weren’t good enough and that just wouldn’t work for him. Gesturing towards your plate, Seungcheol clears his throat and tilts his head before picking up his own fork. 

“Thank you for eating with me. I’m a sad, lonely sap when Matthew is gone on weekends. You saved me from boredom.” 

You weren’t sure how truthful Seungcheol was being but his words made you feel warm and they made you settle into your chair. They gave you a purpose to be there and not rush. You didn’t want him to be lonely. You suddenly realized how quiet it was in the apartment. You were used to that in yours but you could also sometimes hear Seungcheol and Matthew through the walls and they always sounded happy together. Of course, a weekend alone might be lonely for him. 

Two glasses of wine down and after refusing another helping of pasta, you felt even more relaxed around Seungcheol. He was funny and warm. You understood even more about Matthew after spending time with his dad. They were like a mirror image of one another and as much as you adored Matthew, you could see yourself feeling that way about Seungcheol as the night carried on. 

Soon you found yourself on his couch, another glass of wine in your hand as you pulled your legs up under you. Seungcheol grinned at you as you told him about going through your first year of assistant teaching. He could tell that you had a passion for your career and it was just one of the many things he was starting to love about you. This was becoming one of the easiest and equally difficult evenings of his night. While he loved talking to you and being close to you, he couldn’t help as his eyes moved over your pretty face and along your neck as he pictured getting closer to you and seeing if you’d let him touch you. Instead, he kept his respectful distance and admired you. 

Watching Seungcheol stand up to grab another bottle of wine, you tilt your head, letting your eyes move along his fit frame. You weren’t blind. You were a woman, you had needs, and god, if your body wasn’t screaming at you that you were an idiot for not trying to get closer to the man who had been smiling at you for the past few hours. You were simultaneously enraptured by him and terrified of him. You could see yourself falling for him and it would be hard and messy. It couldn’t end well, because the first person you saw in your mind was Matthew. 

Looking back around the room to pull your mind back to the present, despite the euphoric cloud of alcohol, you smile seeing the pictures of the boy on the wall. There were so many, from the time he was an infant to now. You could see pictures of Seungcheol and Matthew with others as well. A woman who you assumed was Matthew’s mother and some men who looked to be around Seungcheol’s age, perhaps brothers. A wave of longing hits you and you rest your head on your arm, a frown on your face as you keep looking around, finally noticing the degrees on the furthest wall. 

Narrowing your eyes, you struggle to make out the words, finally sitting up and leaning forward to read as Seungcheol moves back to the couch with a sigh. Reaching for your glass, the man says something you don’t pay attention to as he tries to hand you the glass. 

“Y/N? Is white wine okay?” 

Blinking a couple of times, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes and look at the glass in his hand with a clueless look on your face. A smile spreads over his face. He tilts his head and lets you take the glass from him as you gesture towards the wall with your other hand. 

“You—wait… You’re a doctor?” 

You weren’t sure what you had assumed Seungcheol did for a living, but a doctor hadn’t been on your bingo card. Looking around the room as you feel reality setting in, you can see that things make a bit more sense. The furniture was really nice. The wine was delicious and tasted expensive. Seungcheol, even in lounge wear, looked expensive. 

Shrugging, Seungcheol purses his lips as he takes a sip of the wine from the glass in his hand as he looks at his medical degree on the wall. He hadn’t really considered that you didn’t know or that it would matter. Meeting your eyes once again, he sighs and leans back against the back of the couch, getting comfortable. 

“Mmhm, family medicine. I have a small private practice in the city and a couple days a week I work out of the hospital in the emergency room. Are you that surprised? Do I not look smart enough to be a doctor or something?” 

Sitting up, you shake your head so fast Seungcheol is afraid you might get whiplash. Reaching forward as he laughs, he runs his fingers over your arm as you lift your glass to your lips, finally taking another sip to calm your nerves before explaining your apparent shock. 

“No…No—of course you are smart. You just don’t look like a doctor. I didn’t expect you to be... you know.” 

When you don’t elaborate, Seungcheol laughs as he leans to put his glass on a coaster on the end table. You take another larger sip of your wine as your eyes fall to the fingers of his other hand as they rest against your forearm and the couch. It isn’t lost on you, no matter how tipsy you might be or how much you enjoy his fingers on your skin. 

“I don’t know. Tell me. You can tell me anything.” 

That was a very dangerous thing to say to you and Seungcheol seemed to know it as he watched you snort into a laugh. Giving you the smile that you had grown to love so much, he bites at his lip and leans forward slightly, listening to the laugh fade as your eyes focus on him. 

“Seriously, tell me what you mean.” 

There was a lump in your throat and wine wasn’t going to get it to go down. You weren’t sure anything could. No matter how much you swallowed or cleared your throat, it was only when you glanced down at your wine that you were able to feel the pressure subside enough that you could talk. 

“I—you know what I mean, Seungcheol. The whole package, I guess.” 

Shaking his head again, Seungcheol sighs out a laugh, wishing he could just get you to say what you mean instead of this game where you beat around the bush. 

“Package? Like from Amazon? What are we talking about here, Y/N? Help me out.” 

He was frustrating in the most adorably clueless and teasing way. You had a feeling he knew what you were hinting at, even if he was trying to play dumb; he was a doctor after all. You had already insulted his intelligence once. Glancing up long enough to meet Seungcheol’s eyes, you take a deep breath and let it out with a sigh that sounds more like a laugh as you speak. 

“You’re incredibly attractive, a doctor, obviously successful, and a good dad. The whole package. I don’t think you can order that on Amazon.” 

Seungcheol bites at his lip after hearing you explain your words. It was better than he had anticipated. He felt bad for making you say it, he knew it had to be somewhat embarrassing, but he had to hear it. He might never hear it again, because at the end of the day, this wasn’t a real relationship. 

“Mm, well, that’s good for your boyfriend to know.”

Opening your mouth, you look confused but Seungcheol grins and picks up his wine, letting you off the hook as he takes a sip and continues. 

“You know, fake boyfriend.” 

A small, confused laugh slips from between your lips as you nod, trying to act like it is easy to understand and it all makes sense. You try to pretend like this is going to be easy and that him “helping” you keep up this ruse is a good idea, but who was it actually helping? 

“Right, my fake boyfriend. My fake doctor boyfriend.” 

Smirking, Seungcheol rolls his eyes and watches you finish off your glass of wine. He hated the word fake. Was it horrible of him to hope for a time when he could remove the word fake from his and your vocabulary? Yes, he knew it was. So he just takes a deep breath and points at your wine glass. 

“More wine, fake girlfriend?” 

Your laugh is so pretty, it almost breaks Seungcheol’s heart. He watches your head tilt back and his eyes move along your neck and back up to your face as you sigh. It’s when you glance at the clock on the wall and pout that he matches the pout, knowing what you are going to say. 

“It’s so late. I should go home.” 

Two in the morning. That was much later than you had intended on staying, but the look on Seungcheol’s face made you almost reluctant to get up. You were tired, the wine was doing a great job at aiding that fact, but it didn’t lessen that pout on his handsome face. You watch as he nods, a soft sigh escaping between his lips before he takes your empty glass and stands up. 

“Thank you again for coming over. I really did enjoy it. Maybe we can do this again sometime.” 

Your eyes follow Seungcheol into the kitchen as he puts the wine glasses into the sink. When he glances over his shoulder at you, giving you a hopeful look you can’t disappoint him even if your brain is screaming about how much this is going to hurt you. 

“Absolutely.” 

“That’s all you did?” 

Groaning at Jeonghan’s tone in his question, Seungcheol pushes a plate of leftover pasta across the kitchen island towards him and Jihoon. Lifting his hands, he gives his best friend an incredulous look before stabbing at his own food with a pout on his face. 

“What did you expect him to do, Jeonghan? Jump her the first chance he gets.” 

Jihoon rolls his eyes as he shoves a fork full of pasta into his mouth, talking between bites. Out of the two men, in his own opinion, he had the most level head in this situation. He understood why Seungcheol had let you go home and why he hadn’t made a move. Jeonghan, on the other hand, stared at his friend as if he had two heads and was growing another. 

“I expect him to grow some fucking balls. You deserve some happiness, Cheol. You have this hot little teacher next door that you won’t shut up about; she comes over, and that’s—that’s it!” 

Jeonghan made it seem like he had committed a crime by respecting you and your position as his teacher. Not that the two of you had exclusively said you didn’t want to actually explore things, but it was an unspoken thing. Seungcheol wasn’t an idiot. He didn’t get through medical school on a wish and a prayer. 

“I’m helping her with her stupid douche of an ex. It would be wrong of me to actually make a move. Plus, it would be weird for Matthew.” 

Finally swallowing a bite of his food, Jeonghan scoffs around the pasta at Seungcheol’s half ass attempt at an excuse. In his mind, it didn’t make any sense and he was grasping at straws. He had seen his best friend fall for someone before and he didn’t want to see him lose that chance because he was scared. 

“Bullshit, it would be weird for Matthew. He already talks about Miss Y/N all the damn time. He likes her more than he likes me at this point. It’s offensive…” 

Chuckling, Jihoon gets a harsh side eye from Jeonghan that he matches with one of his own. 

“I think it’s hilarious and I think that you need to stop riding Cheol’s ass. If he wants to ask her out, he’ll do it. If not—” 

“He’ll die alone and pouting.” 

Dropping his fork into his plate, Seungcheol lifts his hand to push at his temples as his friends continue to talk about him as if he isn’t even in the room. Both of them had good points and as much as he didn’t want to admit it, Jeonghan had some of the better ones. He knew he was being a wimp when it came to you, but he wasn’t ready to bet and lose. 

Noticing that Seungcheol had gone quiet, Jeonghan turned his attention back to him, letting out a sigh as Jihoon did the same. Neither of them liked the look on his face. They had been friends with him for over a decade and been through a majority of the highs and the lows. They had been there for the best of his life so far and the day that he thought his own had ended because hers had. 

Rubbing his thumb into his palm as he thinks about what to say next, Jihoon furrows his brows deeply. For a moment, he looks annoyed, but that’s because he is. He’s annoyed that he’s going to agree with Yoon Jeonghan for the first time in a long time. Sighing in a groan, the man leans forward and taps his fingers on the island as he tries to make his point. 

“Listen, I’m not saying I completely agree with Jeonghan—”

“But clearly, he agrees—” 

Shooting a look at the man, Jihoon watches a smirk pull up at Jeonghan’s lips as he stops talking, letting him continue. 

“But... even I can admit that something is going on in your head, Cheol. I’m not going to push you as hard as him, but don’t let it slip through your fingers because of the unknown.” 

That was what terrified him. The unknown. You could reject him completely. He could look like a fool. You could accept him and fall in love with him. Then he might lose you. There was so much unknown. The unknown had ruined his life before and only the people closest to him and his son had kept him from drowning. 

“What if it doesn’t work out?” 

Nodding, Jeonghan lifts his hands off the island and takes a deep breath, letting it out as he meets Seungcheol’s eyes to answer his question. 

“And what if it does?” 

Forcing a smile on your face after a long day, you stand up as the bell rings and parents start to move into the room to collect their children. Taking your time, you note each one, telling them to have a good evening and that you will see them in the morning. 

It wasn’t that you hadn’t enjoyed your day, but you could feel a headache behind your eyes and fifteen screaming five year olds was a lot for anyone. So as the numbers started to dwindle, you could feel the anxiety starting to fade from you. 

“Hey, buddy!” 

Glancing up as Matthew squeals happily, you watch him run towards a slender but fit man that you vaguely recognize. Perhaps he had been on Seungcheol’s walls in one of the pictures, but you didn’t have a name to put—

“Uncle Jeonghan!”

Ah, so this was Uncle Jeonghan that Matthew talked about so much. Picking up your clipboard, you furrow your brows, moving over to him and the man as you quickly make sure the man’s name is listed as someone authorized to pick up. 

“Have a good day? This must be Miss Y/N that your daddy talks about all the time.” 

Lifting your head from the clipboard, you meet the man’s eyes as your cheeks start to burn. Opening your mouth, you close it quickly as he smirks at you and ruffles the boy's head as he clings close to him. 

“I—Yoon Jeonghan? If you could just sign for Matthew, since you're not his legal guardian and only listed as an authorized person, it’s policy.” 

Taking the clipboard from you, Jeonghan grins as you seem to shy away at his words. He could see the appeal. You were beautiful and seemed responsible. You were exactly Seungcheol’s type. 

“No problem; Y/N. Cheol had to work in the ER today so here I am to save the day. I honestly don’t know why he didn’t just ask you to bring him home.” 

Scoffing in surprise, you watch as Matthew gasps and looks up at you like a new toy. 

“That’d be so cool! Miss Y/N, can you one day? I can show you my toys.” 

Not wanting to disappoint the boy, you give him a strained smile and meet Jeonghan’s eyes, realizing he was an enabler. Seungcheol should have warned you about him, but maybe he didn’t even realize how your first meeting with him would go. 

“Maybe… I’m your teacher, Matthew. We play at school—” 

“Well and his neighbor and his daddy’s girl—” 

Shaking your head, you watch as Jeonghan bites his lip to stifle a laugh before nodding and holding up his free hand as a way of surrendering. Apparently Seungcheol had shared some details of your “relationship” with his friend. You wanted to crawl into a hole and never come out, but you had a feeling this man was the type to pull you out and back into the spotlight. 

“Maybe one day, Matthew... but let’s not get our hopes up.” 

Pouting up at you, Matthew just nods and moves away from you both to go get his things. Letting out a breath, you take back your clipboard and put it down on a shelf behind you as you and Jeonghan glance towards the small boy as he pulls on his jacket. 

“He’d let you take him home.” 

Furrowing your brows, you glance over at Jeonghan and shift on your feet at his words and the implication behind them. Noticing how you seem to nervously shift from foot to foot, Jeonghan smirks and glances down at his phone in his hand, answering a text from Seungcheol as he speaks to you. 

“One day he’ll man up and ask you out for real. This fake dating shit—” 

“Don’t curse in my classroom, please.” 

A laugh slips from between his lips as he glances up from his phone to offer you an apologetic smile before nodding and continuing. 

“Sure, sorry. As I was saying, this fake dating nonsense you two have going on right now isn't going to work. I can already tell you like him.” 

Insufferable. That's how you’d describe Yoon Jeonghan. You had known him for less than ten minutes and already you knew he was going to be an issue in your life. Crossing your arms, you start to sigh into your words, a dramatic big breath, when Alex’s voice once again ruins your moment. 

“Matt, buddy, let me help.” 

Jeonghan watches as your head moves like prey sensing a predator towards the other teacher, who was now helping Matthew with his bag. His eyes move to his godson’s face as he grimaces as the man tugs on the straps, keeping them tight on his arms. 

“He’s fine, Mr. Alex. Thank you.” 

You still sounded like yourself, with that sweet tone to your voice, but even Jeonghan could hear the hint of malice behind it. So this was Alex, and now Alex thought it was okay to mess with Seungcheol’s son. The “fake” dating made sense. This man did not understand boundaries and used everything in front of him as an open door. 

Stepping in front of Alex, you smile at Matthew and the smile transfers to the boy’s face. Jeonghan feels relief wash over him at the sight as you kneel down, adjust the straps back to where they were and then tie his shoe properly. 

“I was just helping out a student, Miss Y/N.” 

Oof… There was so much tension in this room that even Jeonghan felt like he was going to drown in it. Stepping forward, he clears his throat and offers his hand towards Matthew, letting him take his fingers. 

“And while I’m sure she appreciates that, and the parents do... I don’t know you, Mr. Alex, was it? From where I was standing, some strange man was touching my godson, which honestly made me nervous for a moment. I’d be more careful; this isn’t your classroom.” 

Standing up, you feel your cheeks burn under Alex’s eyes as he looks to you to defend him, but you don’t. Jeonghan had a point. Not every parent or guardian knew who all the teachers were, not even the students knew the other teachers. Simple acts could be misunderstood and while he was doing something to “be nice” and it was innocent, you knew there was another reason he was inserting himself into your and Matthew’s lives. 

“Well, I do apologize for the misunderstanding. My classroom is right down the hall. I was just coming to see Miss Y/N. We are very close.” 

Jeonghan just smirks at the man and shoots you a glance before looking at his phone and seeing a reply from Seungcheol. 

“I’m sure you are.” Dismissing the man, he looks at you and smiles brightly. “Y/N, dear… Cheol asked me if you wouldn’t mind helping me with Matthew once you get home? I’m an awful cook.” 

Opening his mouth to say something, Alex stops when Matthew squeals with delight and grabs at your shirt, begging you to come over. 

Another point to you and Seungcheol. 

Staring at Seungcheol’s apartment door, you listen to the sound of Matthew’s laughter. While you knew why you had agreed to Jeonghan’s ridiculous plan, you weren’t sure why you were attempting to follow through with it. You could so easily just text Seungcheol and tell him that your evening got far too busy, and you wouldn’t be able to help Jeonghan out with Matthew, but suddenly it felt important to you. 

Jeonghan had been doing a good job, for the most part, at keeping Matthew distracted from asking when you were going to come over, but every few minutes the question kept coming up. He knew there was a slight chance you might bail on them, but he had a good feeling you wouldn’t, so he simply told Matthew, “she’ll be here soon,” each time he asked. So when you knocked on the door, a little after 6:30, Matthew squealed in delight and beat Jeonghan to it by a mile. 

“Miss Y/N! I’m so excited. I have coloring pages and my trucks to show you. Can we paint?” 

Shaking your head, you run your fingers over Matthew’s head with a sigh as you listen to Jeonghan chuckle under his breath a few feet away. It was clear to see that the little boy had you wrapped around his little finger. You weren’t supposed to have a favorite student, and maybe that wasn’t even what was happening here, but you adored Matthew. Him and his gummy smile. 

“Maybe? I’m supposed to help with dinner. What did your Uncle Jeonghan have in mind?” 

Giving you a once over in your more casual clothes, Jeonghan nods in approval before gesturing towards the kitchen as if you didn’t already know where it was. 

“Luckily for me, Cheol is a great father. He left a note that says, 'stuff for pizza in the fridge’, so it looks like it’s pizza, Teach.” 

Rolling your eyes, you let Matthew hold on to your waist as you make your way into the kitchen and glance at the note in question. 

“And you can’t make pizza on your own?” 

“Uncle Jeonghan burneded my chicken nuggets last week. Can you make me pizza, Miss Y/N?” 

Letting out a breath, you meet Matthew’s eyes before looking back up at Jeonghan, who grimaces at the mention of the chicken nuggets. Maybe it was a good thing that you were here if this man couldn’t even be trusted with the most simple of foods. 

It didn’t take long for the three of you to get into a comfortable rhythm. You quickly took over things in the kitchen, leaving Jeonghan to entertain Matthew, which in turn kept him from being under your feet. It wasn’t until you were putting the homemade pizza into the oven that the evening started to calm down and you were able to really look around you and feel your heart tightening. You wanted this. Not with Jeonghan, though he was starting to grow on you as a friend, but you wanted to be around Matthew more and to help with him. 

Feeling your cell phone vibrate in your back pocket, you wipe your hands off on a dish towel and slip it from your pocket only for a smile to pull at the corner of your lips. 

Seungcheol: I owe you big time 

Glancing towards the living room, you press your lips together watching Matthew and Jeonghan sitting at the coffee table with crayons covering most of the surface. Now that feeling of wanting this more often was even stronger as you thought about Seungcheol, wishing he was here… even though that felt wrong on some level. You shouldn’t want something with a parent of one of your students… there had to be something wrong about that, or at least Alex was good at making you feel like there was. 

Y/N: Don’t say that yet. Pizza isn’t out of the oven yet. I might burn it just as bad as Jeonghan.

Grinning as he leans against the wall of the break room, Seungcheol allows himself a moment to just enjoy the idea of you in his apartment. He knew he would be there in a few more hours, but picturing you with Matthew seemed so domestic. Jeonghan was right, as much as Seungcheol hated to admit it… he wanted more with you than some fake relationship. 

“What are you smiling at like that? It’s creepy…” 

Scoffing at Joshua Hong’s teasing words, Seungcheol quickly replies to you before clearing his throat and sliding his phone back into his coat pocket. He had never been good at “acting casual,” and most of his friends knew that, so this time was no different. 

“Nothing, why are you? You know, being nosy? Don’t you have a patient in Five?” 

Joshua smirks as he watches Seungcheol scratch his neck. He could see that his friend was nervous and that, paired with the stupid, love-sick smile he had been wearing, could only mean one thing. 

“I just discharged that patient. Are you simping that hard over some girl? Choi Seungcheol, are you fucking someon–” 

Lifting his hands, Seungcheol is quick to let out a panicked sound in order to stop Joshua from continuing. It was bad enough that he had to deal with Jeonghan on almost a daily basis. Dealing with both Jeonghan and Joshua, now that was a nightmare. 

“Shut up. I—no. No, I’m not fuck—I’m not sleeping with anyone. You spend too much time with Jeonghan if you are talking like that.” 

Joshua had never known Seungcheol to be so proper and flustered before, and honestly, it was pretty amusing to see him sweat over something as simple as a girl. 

“Hannie and I enjoy our quality time; thank you very much. Get the stick out of your ass and tell me what’s going on, or I’ll just have to ask him. I’m sure he knows.” 

The idea of Jeonghan being able to explain his love life, or the lack thereof, to anyone but especially to Joshua was a terrifying and humiliating thought. Shaking his head, Seungcheol groans and reaches for Joshua’s arm, stopping him from leaving the break room as he glances towards the clock to see how much time he has left on his break before he explains from the beginning. 

Seungcheol: Well burnt or not, can’t wait to get home and have a slice. See you in about an hour?

You had stared at your phone and Seungcheol’s text for a bit longer than you had meant to. When Jeonghan pursed his lips and glanced over your shoulder to see what had your attention so enraptured, you gasped, pulling the phone to your chest. 

“Sorry, I said your name a couple times, but you were staring at your phone like it was a bomb. I had to make sure you didn’t need help with it.” 

Furrowing your brows, you clear your throat and put your phone face down on the counter, turning towards the oven and leaning to glance at the pizza through the window. You were avoiding the topic, but Jeonghan wasn’t the one to just give up. 

“You set a timer, didn’t you? Should come out right in time for us to eat. You know, Matthew, me, you, and Cheol.” 

Glancing over your shoulder, you narrow your eyes at Jeonghan and straighten to your full height so that you feel a bit less small in front of him. 

“I wasn’t going to stay for dinner.” 

Tilting his head, Jeonghan starts to speak when Matthew whines and the sound of his little feet hitting the wood floor draws your attention. You get ready to explain to him that you need to go, that you have so much you have to do before bedtime, but one look down at him and the pout on his face... all excuses die on your tongue. 

“Please don’t go! Eat pizza with me. You said maybe to playing with trucks.” 

You watch as tears start to gather in Matthew’s eyes and it almost breaks your heart. Even Jeonghan feels a pang of guilt knowing he had pushed a little too hard, and he finds himself hoping you’ll stay as he looks at Matthew, his small shoulders lifting to take a breath, trying to keep himself from crying. 

Squatting in front of Matthew, you run your fingers over his cheeks and offer him a smile, happy to see his lips pull up even slightly in return. It was easier to say no at school. You knew you had authority and there was more to say no to. Children would get into trouble more often if you gave in, but here, what would you lose if you said yes? What harm could it really cause? 

“I—I’ll stay for dinner. I made really good pizza. I would hate to miss out on it or your trucks.” 

Wrapping his arms around your neck, Matthew grins as he giggles. He had known a lot of sadness in his short life, but his father and those around him had worked hard to show him even more joy. This was more joy. There was something special about you, and it wasn’t just that you were his teacher or that he liked you so much; it was more that you felt so warm and made him wonder what his mommy would have been like. Not that he would tell you that, at least not tonight. 

Patting Matthew’s back, you glance up at Jeonghan as he purses his lips, the look on his face a mixture of apologetic and appreciative. It takes a moment before you are finally able to pull away from the boy and meet his eyes, seeing a bit of wetness on his cheeks, but that big smile on his face remains even as you wipe the tears away. 

“The pizza has to cook for a bit longer. Wanna show me what you and Uncle Jeonghan were working on?” 

Letting out a deep breath as he walks through the door, Seungcheol finds the stress of his day quickly replaced by fondness. He knew you had decided to stay for dinner, but seeing you in his living room with Matthew for himself was a different story. Now he couldn’t help the smile that played on his lips even as Jeonghan watched him carefully, studying him for what seemed like a full minute before Seungcheol finally moved further into the house. 

“Thought you were going to stand in the hall all damn night.” 

Scoffing at Jeonghan’s words, Seungcheol shakes his head before meeting your eyes trying not to lose himself in your soft smile. You are so beautiful and it was becoming impossible for him to pretend like he didn’t like you, and that he didn’t want to see what this could be without some silly stipulations to your relationship. 

“How’s the evening been so far? Don’t I get a hug?” 

While his words were meant for Matthew, you still pressed your lips together feeling a slight urge to stand up and move into Seungcheol’s arms too. He looked incredible, even as tired as he was. You were having a hard time not staring at him, and Jeonghan was taking notes. 

“I think the uh—the pizza is cool enough to eat. So you have good timing.” 

Nodding to your words, Seungcheol squats down to hug Matthew. You watch fondly as he rocks the small boy back and forth a few times, causing him to let out a delighted sound before Seungcheol stands and runs his fingers through his hair. 

“Awesome, thank you again for helping, Y/N. I’ll… uh get changed and meet you guys at the table.” 

Swallowing hard, you nod as your eyes follow Seungcheol through the room until he is out of your line of sight. A small chuckle to your right pulls your attention back to the present and to Jeonghan, who simply lifts his brows and pats Matthew’s back, ushering him towards the dining room. 

“Pizza time, buddy. Too much ogling is going on in this room for my stomach to handle.”

Looking up at Jeonghan, Matthew tilts his head as he walks beside him, a look of confusion on his cute face. 

“What’s ohgling?” 

With a groan, you drop your head into your hands for a split second before moving to your feet and following along with the two just in time to hear Jeonghan explain how to say the word properly and that it means to look at someone for a long time because you like them. At least he had kept it PG.

“Can Miss Y/N tuck me in tonight?”

Matthew’s words make you stop what you are doing mid-bite. Jeonghan’s smirk only grows as Seungcheol tilts his head, looking at his son and over to you as you give both of them a deer stuck in headlights look. The evening had gotten exponentially more interesting since Seungcheol had gotten home. You two weren’t fooling anyone, at least as far as Jeonghan was concerned, and this was the cherry on top. 

“I–well… That’s up to Miss Y/N.” 

Meeting your eyes, Seungcheol looks a bit worried that you might say no. He wouldn’t fault you if you did, but he hated the idea of his son being disappointed. You could see the look and it was so very similar to the look in Matthew’s eye that your stomach was in your throat. Why were these two so impossible for you to refuse? 

“I don’t mind.” 

Clapping his hands together, Jeonghan gives you both a wide smile before pushing his chair back from the table and wiping at his lips. 

“Great, now that’s settled, means I can get headed home. Thank you for the lovely dinner, Y/N. Please invite me again.” 

Following Jeonghan, Seungcheol gives you an apologetic look as you start to speak but can’t seem to find the right words to defend yourself. While you had grown used to his teasing over the past few hours, it didn’t make it any easier to handle in front of Seungcheol and Matthew. You could feel heat rising in your neck and face as you turned your attention back towards Matthew as he grabbed your hand and tried to tug you out of your seat. 

“Come on! I gotta show you my room and my trucks. Daddy says they are the most coolest.” 

You were lucky to have such a sweet distraction, just two of your fingers in his small hand as Matthew led you down the hall and away from the embarrassment of Yoon Jeonghan’s words. After watching you and Matthew for a moment, Seungcheol then glances back at his best friend as he slips his shoes on and offers him a triumphant smile. In his mind, clearly, he had managed to play matchmaker well if you were staying longer than he was. He could almost hear the wedding bells in the back of his mind, but the look on Seungcheol’s face was one of doubt, which always leads to delays. 

“You’re welcome. Get that stupid look off your face and seal the deal.” 

Scoffing, Seungcheol double checks that you can’t hear either of them before he meets Jeonghan’s eyes once more. 

“Would you shut the hell up? I–we don’t know what’s going to happen. She was doing me a favor because you trapped her in a moment—” 

“No, she came over because she wanted to. She could have canceled and she could have left hours ago, Cheol. She wants to be here and she wants to be here with you. You weren’t here to see her schoolgirl crush smiling at her phone every time you sent a message.” 

Pressing his lips together while learning about the couple of hours before he had gotten home, Seungcheol couldn't stop how the corners of his lips started to turn up. He wanted to see that smile. He loved your smile. He loved how you made Matthew smile. God, he was falling for you and it was that hard sort of falling that people warned you about. 

“Really?” 

Shaking his head, Jeonghan reaches over to pat Seungcheol’s bicep as he rolls his eyes at his friend’s reaction. You were the school girl and here was your school boy. It was a match made in heaven, and it was nauseating to be around. 

“Really, Casanova. Don’t let her slip through your fingers because you’re a pussy.” 

Seungcheol groans, his smile falling at Jeonghan’s wording. Why did he have to be so crass? No, he wasn’t some church going perfect angel himself, but at least he didn’t go around calling people a pussy. 

“Get out, seriously. If Matthew starts saying shit like that, I’m personally making you pay for his therapy sessions.” 

Getting one last cheeky grin from Jeonghan, Seungcheol closes the door and makes his way back towards your soft voice. It was getting late and being a school night, it was around the time he would normally get Matthew ready for bed. He almost hated the idea of that tonight. He knew that Matthew wanted you to tuck him in, but what would that mean afterwards? Would you have leave right way? Could he talk you into staying for a glass of wine? It was a school night for you too…

“No, that truck was my favorite too. Get your teeth in the back too.” 

Surprised to hear you and Matthew in the bathroom, Seungcheol tilts his head and leans against the wall, watching you smile at his son. It was surreal to see something like this. He had always wanted this for Matthew—and, if he could be selfish, for himself. 

This wasn’t something he had gotten much of from his wife before her accident. She didn’t get to help him put Matthew to bed once he was old enough to remember her. While Seungcheol would always regret that, he found himself allowing himself a bit of time to relish Matthew’s little piece of normality with you. 

“Good! Big smile.” 

You laugh, your heart full and warm, as Matthew shows you his clean teeth. This was dangerous. You were so in love with this family. You could see yourself doing this every single night and never getting tired of it. There was something about Matthew and Seungcheol that made your life feel complete and that was terrifying in ways that you couldn’t even explain to yourself. 

“One of my favorite smiles. Time to change? Then I can come tuck you in.” 

Turning to follow Matthew, you stop short, seeing Seungcheol watching you from the hall. You get hit with a sudden rush of anxiety, wondering if you have overstepped, but the smile and look on his face tell you that you haven’t. You watch his fingers glide through Matthew’s hair before he glances back at him, telling him not to bring trucks into his bed, before he looks at you and takes your breath away with a smile. 

“You’re a natural.” 

Shyly, you shake your head and move towards him and Matthew’s bedroom, stopping just outside to give the boy time to change. 

“Just teacher things, I guess.” 

Seungcheol shakes his head and fights his urge to reach out and pull you towards him. You were standing too far away from him and with how he was feeling, all he wanted to do was pull you into his arms and do exactly what Jeonghan had told him to do. Why was he dancing around this? You were everything he had been wanting and not even the fear of the unknown was enough to keep him from taking that leap. 

Starting to speak, Seungcheol watches you take a deep breath when Matthew’s small voice makes him stop before he even gets started. You instead watch as he smiles and rubs the back of his neck, gesturing for you to go ahead. Biting at your lip, you nod and give him a small glance as you pass by, only for your breath to get caught in your throat when Seungcheol’s fingers trail over your fingers just before you cross over the threshold into the bedroom. 

“Go ahead; I’ll say goodnight once he’s tucked in. Something tells me he might get upset if I try to interrupt.” 

One last look towards Seungcheol, and you move into Matthew’s room and sit on the side of his bed as he grins up at you. Your stomach was doing flips as butterflies held a rave inside of you, but with a deep breath, you managed to keep your cool and tuck the covers around Matthew. 

“How’s that? Too tight?” 

Shaking his head, Matthew wiggles under the covers to show you that he can still move easily as you run your fingers over the top of his head, feeling his eyes move over your face. 

“Okay, good. Sleep well and I’ll see you at school in the morning.” 

“Mmkay, Miss Y/N.” 

You smile at his tired words, starting to stand when Matthew whines and you stay right where you are, giving him a concerned look at the sudden change. 

“Can I have a hug for bedtime?” 

You knew you would say no. Sure, it would make Matthew sad and, in turn, make you sad, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt as much as what you chose to do. Instead of saying no, you nodded and leaned down to let him wrap his arms around your neck and hold you close to him as he whispered his thanks for the day and told you goodnight. You could feel the tears rising in your eyes even as you willed them to stay back. 

“It’s my pleasure, Matthew. Tha–thank you for hanging out with me. Sleep tight…” 

Seungcheol had to take a deep breath while watching his son cling to you like a safety net. It almost broke his heart to watch you sit up, but then you ran your fingers over Matthew’s face and whispered goodnight and Seungcheol could have sworn he saw tears in your eyes. Was that a good sign or a bad one? 

Sliding past Seungcheol, you sniff softly but smile at him as you let him move into the room. You find yourself wanting to watch as he finishes up the bedtime routine, but your heart won’t let you. The tears on your cheeks tell you that you need to run out of this apartment as fast as you can, but you wait, feeling the need to say your goodbyes to Seungcheol. 

The soft click of the door shutting draws your attention back towards Matthew’s room and Seungcheol as you wipe your cheeks quickly and put your smile back on your face. You didn’t hate what you were feeling; it just terrified you to no end. You had never pictured a family with Alex; no matter how many times he had brought up what a fantastic mother you were going to be to his children, it wasn’t something that you could see. Looking at Seungcheol, you could picture that future and you weren’t even in a real relationship with him. What did that say about you?

“Hey, thanks for doing that. He’s already out like a light. I never get him down that easy.”

You only manage to hum into a small smile at Seungcheol’s words as he moves closer to you,  his presence making it harder for you to choose if you want to stay or run. 

“It’s no biggie. He’s a great kid.” 

Nodding, Seungcheol opens and closes his hand a few times before taking the leap and reaching out to wrap his fingers around yours, feeling your hand shake in his. Maybe you were just as nervous as he was? Maybe you could already see where this was going? Maybe, just maybe, you wanted it too. 

“He is… But, um, could I say something? Not about Matthew and you hear me out?” 

Those butterflies had taken something strong at their rave and you felt like you were going to be sick with nerves. Your head was woozy even as you nodded to answer Seungcheol, unable to find the right words. Swallowing hard, he sighs into a small laugh before reaching up to scratch at his brow with his free hand, keeping yours in his other. 

“I–okay, I’m just gonna say it, alright? I love having you around. I really like this, you know? Us. So I was thinkin’ if you aren’t busy, maybe we could get dinner this weekend? Just the two of us?” 

Letting out a breath, you pull your fingers back and smile at Seungcheol, trying to think straight, but nothing in your head makes sense. You were panicking. The look on Seungcheol’s face told you that he could see you were panicking as you took a step back from him and literally looked for your escape route. 

“It is so late. I have work in the morning, but you know that. Thank you so much for dinner. I mean, you know what I mean.”

Following you, Seungcheol runs his fingers through his hair, feeling panic start to roll through him as you pretend that he hadn’t just confessed to you and asked you out. Was he that bad of a choice? Or was this about something else? Were you afraid too?

“Y/N? What? Wait, no, I know you have work. Shit… wait. I didn’t mean to—” 

Turning to face him as you reach the door, you can’t stop the tears that run down your cheeks. The same tears seem to resonate with Seungcheol and stop him from giving you his reasoning. All he finds himself wanting to do is hold you and make it better, but that fear of pushing you away is stronger than ever as you wipe at your cheeks and apologize under your breath, pulling your shoes on. 

“I will talk to you later, okay? Just… I can’t do this right now.” 

Seungcheol knew he should say something else, do something to stop you from leaving until more was said and understood, but all he could do was watch as his door shut and leave him in silence. His heart beating hard in his chest, the pang of rejection and confusion rips through Seungcheol as he turns away from where you had been standing and moves to the couch to sit down and rest his head in his hands. 

Inside your apartment, you let your tears fall freely. You didn’t want to disappoint Seungcheol, but the first thing you saw when he said those words to you was Matthew’s disappointed face. That’s the face you would have to see if the relationship didn’t work out. That's who you’d be hurting. It wouldn’t just be your heart or even Seungcheol’s heart on the line; it would be that child’s heart. 

So now you sat on your kitchen floor, your heart feeling shattered as you forced yourself to stick to what you had decided instead of running back over to Seungcheol’s apartment and telling him that you felt the same way. Sometimes people don’t get what they want just because they want it. Sometimes they have to give up what they want for the benefit of others.

Seungcheol was nervous as he stood in the doorway to your classroom. He knew he was early and that Matthew wasn’t particularly happy with him because he would be the first student at school, but he needed to talk to you. The way things had ended the night before was eating at him. 

Ushering Matthew into the room, Seungcheol watches as his son runs over to you. He feels his heart tighten as small arms wrap around your waist and he wants to do the same thing. The confusion and surprise on your face are enough to make the thoughts move from Seungcheol’s mind as he smiles at you and lifts Matthew’s bag, walking towards the cubbies. 

“You—you’re early. The others won’t be here for probably half an hour.” 

Wincing at your words as he hangs Matthew’s bag up, Seungcheol considers lying. He thinks about telling you that he just has to get to work early—that’s the only reason he’s bringing Matthew in so early—but the look in your eye tells him that he should just tell you the truth. 

"I—yeah, I know. I just… Could I talk to you for a second?” 

Glancing towards Matthew, you sigh as he moves away from you both towards the building block area to play. Crossing your arms, you gesture back towards the door and the cubbies to give even more space between yourself and Seungcheol from the boy so he can’t hear. 

“I’m not sure there’s a lot to talk—”

“I know… I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt you, Y/N. But please? Can I just say this? I didn’t really get to finish what I wanted to say.” 

You furrow your brow, glancing down at your fingers on your forearm as you nod. This conversation was already too difficult. Seungcheol felt too close, but glancing off to the side towards Matthew as he stacks up blocks, counting them quietly under his breath, makes you take in a deep breath as you listen to what he has to say. 

“Okay, can’t we just try it? This seems to work great. I mean, at least it does to me. All I asked for was dinner. I like you, Y/N. Like, really, really like you.” 

Tilting his head as he stops walking in the hallway, Alex narrows his eyes, listening to the conversation in your classroom. He had wanted to see you before school started, before your students arrived, but clearly someone had beat him. As he listened closer to the voice of the man, he recognized it, Seungcheol, your boyfriend. Why would he need to tell you how much he liked you? 

Shaking your head, you lift your fingers to quickly wipe at your cheeks, feeling moisture under your eyes as you take a deep breath. This isn't about what you wanted or what Seungcheol wanted. That had become obvious to you last night. You couldn’t and wouldn’t risk breaking Matthew’s heart and ruining something good in his life. You couldn’t be more than his teacher. Even being his friend was putting too much pressure on him. Everything could come crashing down and it wouldn’t be you or Seungcheol who would suffer the most; it would be Matthew. 

“I shouldn’t have asked you to do this. I should have had more guts to just—” Stopping to let out an unamused laugh, you meet Seungcheol’s eyes as he gives you a confused, sad look. “I’m so sorry, Seungcheol. We need to stop this. No more pretending. It’s not good for us and it’s worse for Matthew.” 

Pretending. The word causes Seungcheol’s heart to feel like it’s breaking and it causes Alex to scoff. You had been pretending to date Seungcheol. Shaking his head, Alex smirks as he turns back towards his own classroom, running his fingers through his hair, leaving you to finish your breakup with your fake boyfriend. He could always talk to you later. 

“I—Y/N…please. Why do you think that this is going to hurt anyone? I don’t ever want to hurt you and I certainly wouldn’t hurt my son.” 

Biting at your lips, you furrow your brows and take a step back from Seungcheol as his voice cracks. You could hear other people in the halls now; this conversation had to end. 

“Have a good day, Dr. Choi.” 

With his mouth falling open in confusion and hurt, Seungcheol closes his eyes at your words before nodding. He could hear the sound of the other children in the halls too. He knew he couldn’t force you to talk about this or to come out of your shell, even if he could obviously see you were holding back something. 

You turn from him as Seungcheol moves back into the classroom to lean over Matthew, kissing him on top of the head and whispering his goodbye before glancing at you once more. Without another word, he leaves the room and you feel like you are standing in the ocean as a wave of pain washes over you. 

The day is longer than any other that you can remember. You avoid Seungcheol’s eyes as he picks up Matthew, even as the little boy grabs at your hand, asking you to come back over for dinner. When Seungcheol tells him that tonight isn’t a good night, you hold back your tears as you listen to Matthew’s small, sad voice asking why. 

That was why this wasn’t going to work. You were so good at disappointing people. That was what your degree hanging on the wall should be in. A PhD in Disappointment. 

Walking through your now empty room, you let the silence wash over you as you picked up books and toys, not hearing the door open. You don’t hear footsteps approaching you until Alex’s voice pulls you out of your haze and brings you back to reality. 

“You didn’t have to be so pathetic and pretend to have a boyfriend, babe. Seriously? I don’t need to be jealous to want you back in my life. I’ll take you back, Y/N. You don’t have to put on a brave face.” 

Alex’s words bite at your self esteem and your confidence. Keeping your back to him for a moment longer, you fight back your tears, realizing he had to have heard your conversation with Seungcheol at the beginning of the day. You want to be angry and embarrassed, but instead you are relieved. There is no longer a secret hanging over your head, no need to pretend or worry about some big reveal as the panic slowly fades from your body. 

All you are left with, once the anxiety is gone, is disgust. You try to quickly picture a time when you were in love with Alex. You try to imagine wanting a full and long life with him after hearing him say such hateful and degrading things to you, but you can’t. All you can feel is hate and pity. The pity isn’t even for yourself; instead, you feel an overwhelming pity for the man who once made you laugh before he made you cry. 

Turning to face Alex, you meet his eyes as he smirks at you, the smug look on his face looking more like a mask than something real. He wants to play the villain so badly and you could play the victim and let him have it, but instead you just sigh and nod. 

“Thank you, Alex.” 

Starting to speak, Alex looks surprised and hopeful before you lift your hand and stop him as you continue to speak. 

“Thank you for reminding me why I will never allow you in my life again. I never want to see you again. Someone who would say something like that to me... well, it should be obvious if you ever loved me why I couldn’t and wouldn’t want you near me. Please get the fuck out of my classroom and my life.” 

Your voice is even, a bit of emotion laced in it, but you aren’t hysterical like Alex had imagined or perhaps wanted. You are instead mostly calm and collected and your words stab him in the gut like the final nail in the coffin of any chance at a relationship that he had imagined. 

Taking a step backwards, Alex tries to speak—to come up with some excuse for his actions, but you were right. As he thinks back on the person that he had been and the person that he has become, guilt bites at him, making it harder to defend himself. 

You watch as he shakes his head, muttering something so low that you can’t hear it before he moves out of the room and your door shuts, leaving you once again in that empty silence. 

Closing your eyes, you are back in that ocean as waves crash over you. Tears stream down your face and you recognize the pain as heartbreak. Heartbreak from the final mourning period of a relationship and the impossibility of another. Another wave knocks you back and you let out a sob, your hand on your stomach. More loss, but mixed with relief. 

You feel the loss of a possibility for your own family. You had seen yourself with Seungcheol and Matthew, but that was possible. The relief was from letting go, or attempting to. It was also a loss of the weight that had been on your shoulders from the very moment that you had lied to Alex. 

You just wish that it had never been a lie.

Despite many pep talks from Jeonghan, Seungcheol couldn’t make himself knock on your door. He had seen you around the apartment complex during spring break, but you were avoiding him. Worst of all, you seem to be avoiding Matthew. 

He didn’t really blame you. After what you had told him, it made sense. You were scared, but so was he. He had been terrified from the moment he realized his feelings for you, but he had taken the leap and ended up falling short. 

Any other time, Seungcheol would have given up. He would have stopped looking for that person and tried to push them out of his life, so why couldn’t he do that with you? Why would he lay in bed every single night and picture you in yours, just an apartment over? Why would he look at his phone and pray that you would text him? Why couldn’t he just get some guts and text you himself? 

He had decided that after spring break, the first day of school, he would try his best. At school, it wasn’t like you couldn’t talk to him. You had to talk to parents, and you had to talk to your students. Matthew was excited about seeing you again; this would be the perfect time. It would have been perfect if, when Seungcheol had come through the door, there wasn’t a completely different person standing at the front of the classroom. 

 “Daddy…” 

The whine in Matthew’s voice almost broke Seungcheol’s heart. Running his hand over Matthew’s hair, Seungcheol offers the woman a smile and tilts his head as he walks towards her as she looks down at her clipboard. 

“Hi. Uh, Matthew Choi… I’m Seungcheol, his father.” 

Smiling at the boy and at Seungcheol, the woman finds Matthew’s name and places a check next to it before sighing. 

“So prompt, I value responsibility. Hello, I’m Mrs. Lim.” 

Shaking the woman’s hand, Seungcheol tries to keep his smile, but he knows it’s strained as he glances around the room, realizing how much of the room has changed. The posters were different. The books were in a different place. This wasn’t your classroom anymore. 

“It’s really nice to meet you. I’m so sorry, but where is Miss Y/N?”

Swallowing hard, Mrs. Lim nods at the question before putting her clipboard to her chest and taking a deep breath, knowing she would be handling this question many times today. 

“The school was supposed to send out a letter, but perhaps not everyone got them in time. Miss Y/N accepted a job in another district. I hope that I can fill her shoes here…” 

Feeling like a truck had run him over, Seungcheol just nodded as Matthew looked up at him, confused. A small hand tugs at his jacket and Seungcheol nods once again before glancing down at his son, trying to smile at him even as Matthew frowns. 

“Uh, Miss Y/N is teaching other kids, buddy.” 

“No! Daddy!” 

Hearing his son cry was one of the most painful things that Seungcheol could experience. He knew it wouldn’t be the last time, and it hadn’t been the first by a long shot, but there was so much heartbreak in his sobs. Moving to his knees in front of Matthew, Seungcheol controls his own emotions as he wipes tears away and shushes the little boy to calm him down. 

“It’s okay. Mrs. Lim seems so nice and I’m sure you two will get along.” 

Pulling back from Seungcheol, Matthew sniffs hard, talking between sobs as big tears roll down his cheeks, meeting his dad’s fingers.

“Did I make Miss Y/N mad at me?”

Shaking his head quickly, Seungcheol pulls Matthew into his arms and closes his eyes, having an even harder time keeping himself in check. He was upset with you for not telling him, but he was even more upset with the fact that you felt like you had to leave. 

“Absolutely not. Miss Y/N adores you.” 

It takes a few more minutes before Matthew is calm enough that Seungcheol feels comfortable leaving. After apologizing to Mrs. Lim for the small outburst on behalf of his son, Seungcheol moves out into the hall and leans against the wall to catch his breath. 

Running his fingers through his hair, he shakes his head and sniffs back his own tears that had threatened to fall when he hears a familiar voice. Glancing to his left, all Seungcheol sees is red. His feet moving quicker than his brain, Seungcheol pushes his forearm against Alex’s chest as the man’s back hits the wall with a dull thud. Only the sound of a gasp from another teacher is heard over Alex’s grunt before he tells the woman it’s fine. 

“It’s not fine... what the fuck did you do? What did you do that made her leave?”

Scoffing through a bit of pain, Alex meets Seungcheol’s eyes and there is pain and hurt in both. The hurt in Alex’s eyes only serves to piss off Seungcheol more as he pushes harder against the man’s body, feeling his hand grasp at his wrist. 

“I—get off me. I don’t have to tell the fake boyfriend anything.”

Leaning back only to push against Alex harder so that his head hits the wall, Seungcheol watches the man’s mouth fall open in pain as he hears the sound of the security guard moving towards them. Taking a step back, he holds up his hands, showing them he’s done before he grabs him. 

“You don’t know anything about Y/N and you don’t know a damn thing about me and her.” Pointing towards Alex as the guard puts his hand around his forearm, Seungcheol scoffs, keeping his ground. “Stay away from Y/N and if you ever touch Matthew again, I won’t need to file a report with the school. You got it?” 

Rubbing the back of his head, Alex winces and narrows his eyes at Seungcheol. It had all been grounds for him to let them drag Seungcheol out of the school until his kid was mentioned. Now Alex needed to save face. No, nothing had happened, but he had crossed the line multiple times with you and by approaching a student that wasn’t his, he had already been warned by the administration. 

“Let him go. Everything is fine. Just a misunderstanding. We are fine… We understand one another, I can promise you that.” 

Feeling the hand on his arm relax, Seungcheol scoffs at how quick Alex’s mood shifts. He was pathetic and he could understand why you wanted nothing to do with him. Giving the man one more look of contempt, Seungcheol shakes his head and moves for the main doors, letting them slam behind him. 

Rolling your head from side to side, you rub your neck as you let out a soft sigh. You were tired after a long day and a longer commute than you were used to at your new school. The students were great but they weren’t the same. The entire day, you found yourself missing your students, as you had to check name tags to remember who you were speaking to. 

It would just take some getting used to. This was the best decision. It was easier for everyone to do it this way. It didn’t matter that you looked for Matthew in the circle of children on the reading rug only to be disappointed when you couldn’t find his sweet gummy smile and his kind eyes looking back up at you. Your heart would heal. 

Taking your keys out of your purse as the elevator stops on your floor, you keep your eyes down until you are almost at your door. Seeing shoes on your welcome mat facing you makes you stop in your tracks and causes your eyes to slowly lift to meet Seungcheol’s as he rests against your door with a frown on his face. 

You had done such a good job of avoiding him and Matthew. Sure, there had been a few times you had found yourself turning on your toes and heading in the other direction, but you had done that to make things easier for everyone. Looking at Seungcheol now, making eye contact with him, you knew there was no running away. 

“Um… Hey.” 

Seungcheol had hoped for more after not talking to you for so long, but he would take what he could get. He knew he was putting you on the spot; clearly, there was no other way to get you to talk to him. 

“Hey. So, I, uh, I took Matthew to school this morning and needless to say, we were both a little shocked and—fuck, I won’t even lie, we were heartbroken when you weren’t there. You quit?” 

Taking a deep breath, you look at your keys in your hand as Seungcheol speaks. Learning that he and Matthew were hurt by your absence makes your stomach feel queasy, but you try to stand your ground and keep yourself somewhat stoic as you nod. 

“Sorry, I got an offer about an hour away and I felt that I should take it. Ya know, it’s better—”

“For who?” 

Being interrupted by Seungcheol, you meet his eyes once again and let out a breath through your nose before looking off to the side. You didn’t want to look him in the eye and try to explain—or lie about this. It was hard enough trying to convince yourself every day in the mirror. 

“For everyone, Seungcheol. I can’t work there anymore. I didn’t want to ruin things for Matthew or you. I couldn’t be around Alex anymore.” 

Stepping away from the door, taking a step towards you, Seungcheol reaches out to take your wrist into his hand, trying to get you to actually look at him. When you don’t instantly pull away, he lowers his head and leans to the right to make you meet his eyes as he speaks. The wet glaze over his eyes makes you feel like your heart is breaking all over again as your bottom lip quivers until you bite at it to force it to stop, once again forcing back any emotions that threaten to bubble to the surface. 

“Matthew isn’t happy without you, Y/N. Why in the hell would you think that he would be? He’s depressed without you at school and without you in his life. I don’t understand why you think he’d be better off without you around.” 

Sighing loudly, Seungcheol’s eyes drop to your bitten lip as you try to keep your tears back. He can see them on the rims of your eyes and he knows that you understand, even if you won’t say it. 

“My son loves you. Don’t you get that? I lov—fuck… I need you in my life, Y/N. When I found out about you quitting I saw Alex and I confronted him. I told him to stay the fuck away from you, away from us.” 

Shaking your head, you pull your arm from Seungcheol’s, feeling his fingers chase after yours as he whines your name under his breath. You can hear and feel the desperation behind his voice and it makes you want to make it better, but you don’t think he even understands what he’s saying to you or what he’s done. 

“You shouldn’t have done that, Seungcheol. There’s no point. It was wrong of me to put myself into your life and into Matthew’s life. This is what I do. Don’t you get that? I disappoint people. Please let me—let me go. You don’t get it.” 

Frustration rises in Seungcheol as you speak and as he watches your tears run down your cheeks. You were the one who didn’t get it. You thought this was just pretty words and a dream but to him, it was so much more. You were so much more. 

Sliding his hand along your cheek to push away your tears, Seungcheol whispers your name as you let out a soft sob. Wanting to make you see what he feels, he cups your face in his palm and brushes his lips against yours, feeling you stiffen in his grasp for only a second before you relax. His kiss not only stuns you but it also takes your breath away. Your tears flow even more freely as Seungcheol’s fingers brush at your skin and his lips move over yours until he finally pulls away and rests his forehead against yours. 

“Do you understand now?” 

Wrapping your fingers around Seungcheol’s wrist, you sniff back tears as you lean your head back from his and shake your head. 

“It won’t work, Seungcheol.” 

Walking you towards the wall, Seungcheol shakes his head in return before leaning to kiss your cheek and tasting your tears on his lips. 

"Yes, it will. It has to. I want it to… so fucking bad, baby. You feel like my missing piece. Y/N, you’re my somebody. Let me prove it to you.”

Seungcheol cups your face with both of his hands as you push your front door closed, letting him once again walk you backwards until your back is flush against the wall. The only difference this time is that it’s your lips that meet his first. You feel his fingers slide along the side of your head as he deepens the kiss, his tongue gliding into your mouth to mesh with your tongue before he groans, feeling your fingers grasp at his sides over his t-shirt. 

This was everything Seungcheol had pictured for days, if not weeks, after being around you. He had wanted to kiss you that night when the two of you had shared wine on his couch. He had wanted to ask you to stay the night after dinner so that he could make love to you, and now he had you in his hands. 

Sliding one hand along your neck, Seungcheol breaks the kiss long enough to meet your eyes, checking for any hesitation as his other hand moves to your hips and tugs them flush with his own. The only look in your eyes is one of desperation and desire. He wasn’t the only one who had wanted this, he had just been better at admitting it to himself than you had. Now that it was real and in front of you, your brain was in a frenzy. 

“You’re so beautiful—so fucking beautiful. Wanted this… God, I’ve wanted it since I laid eyes on you. Wanna make you mine.” 

Seungcheol’s hand moves back to your face, resting on your jaw so that his thumb can brush over your bottom lip, tugging it down as you whimper. There truly was nothing better than this. No art in any museum could compare to you. No artist would ever capture that look in your eyes, the bitten look of your lips, or the desire that was burning in you for Seungcheol. 

“Please? Please, Cheol…” 

Nodding, Seungcheol groans under his breath as you beg him to do what he wants. Glancing away from you, he gestures towards the hall in hopes that his guess of the layout of your apartment wasn’t too far off. 

“Yeah, second door.” 

Smiling at your pretty voice, Seungcheol leans down to capture your lips once again as his hands move from your face and hips to wrap around your thighs right under your ass. Feeling your arms wrap around his neck in surprise, he grins on your lips and lifts you with little effort, even as you gasp. 

“Seungcheol, oh my god, I can walk.” 

Clinging to Seungcheol, you watch as he shakes his head, walking you towards your bedroom. His strong hands are under you, holding you close to his body with each step. 

“What’s the fun in that, baby? Let me have this, okay?” 

Stepping into your room, Seungcheol only glances around for a second before his lips are back on yours and he takes another step towards your bed, only to sit down, allowing you to rest on his lap. Your cheeks were hot with how flustered you felt, not only about being carried to your room but about how you could already feel Seungcheol’s cock between your legs. Letting out a shaky breath on his lips, you hold onto Seungcheol’s shoulders as you give into your desire and rest your knees on either side of his legs. Rolling your hips over the bulge in his jeans and earning you a deep groan from his throat, Seungcheol leans his head back and presses his fingers into the swell of your ass through your pants. 

“Shit… that—that feels so good. It’s been a long time for me, Y/N.” 

Nodding, you slide your fingers from Seungcheol’s shoulder along his neck and up to his face to tilt it back towards you so you can meet his eyes as you roll your hips over him once again. You feel your own arousal beginning to soak through your panties, causing them to stick to your folds, a soft whine slipping from between your lips as your brows furrow. 

“That’s okay. It’s been a while for me too, Cheol.” 

It might be selfish of him, but Seungcheol thinks at that moment that if he had his way, he might be your last. He would be all you’d ever need. You’d never want to look for anyone else. All he needed to do was prove that to you. 

Smiling into a soft groan, he groans as his brows furrow, feeling your fingernails press into his shoulders over his shirt. Seungcheol leans his head back and your lips against his throat has his eyes closing and his fingers tightening on your hips, pulling you down over his lap. Sliding his hands upwards, Seungcheol whispers your name as your lips move along his jaw and his head almost becomes cloudy with thoughts of putting your back on the bed and having his way with you. 

“Y/N… fuck. I need to see you. Can I? Can I see you?” 

Nodding, you lean back from him, letting his fingers work up your sides, pushing your shirt up as he goes. Brown eyes take in every new inch of skin exposed to him as Seungcheol furrows his brows and whispers out soft praises for you. He tells you how beautiful you are, how perfect you are, and how much he cares about you, all before pulling your shirt up and over your head and tossing it behind you into the floor. 

Your cheeks burn at his attention as Seungcheol smiles at you, his fingers once again on your body. You can’t help the way that you gasp and shift in his lap as his fingers walk along your flesh, leaving goosebumps behind his path. 

Shifting your shoulders forward, you feel your bra straps fall down your arms when Seungcheol’s fingers work the clasps open at the middle of your back. The garment gives way and you feel warm breath fanning across your skin before soft plush kisses move from your shoulder to the center of your chest. 

Letting your bra fall into your lap, you slide your fingers into Seungcheol’s hair as his name slips from between your lips like a prayer or a hymn. You didn’t have much doubt that he would have been good at this, but it was still surprising at how much attention he was giving you and how he was taking his time—even if you wanted more and more quickly. 

Tugging at his hair, you whine almost in frustration as you feel his lips brush over your nipple, only for Seungcheol to pull away and place a kiss in the same place on your other breast. You were so aroused—so wet—that you felt like you could cum untouched on his lap, but every single teasing touch kept you right on the edge. 

“Cheol… please? I need more… Give me more.” 

He wanted to give you more. He wanted to see more, but tasting your skin was like tasting sugar for the first time. The salt in your skin was addictive. The smell of your body wash, the perfume that you used... even the laundry detergent that you chose was like the perfect mix to keep him dazed. It’s only your voice that brings him back to the present and reminds him what he’s supposed to do. 

Standing with you secure in his arms, Seungcheol quickly turns to lay you on your bed so he can hover over you. The feeling is instantly different. You had known that he was a large man and that he worked hard in the gym, but having him on top of you like this made it even more obvious how small you were compared to him. 

Letting his eyes move over your face for a moment as your eyes widen, Seungcheol smirks slightly, trailing his fingers along your stomach to the clasp of your jeans. Working them open, he watches you bite your bottom lip and all he can think is how he wants to do that for you, how he’d do anything for you if you asked him to. It could be in this bed or the most simple domestic task and he would make it happen. 

When Seungcheol’s palm presses to your abdomen and his fingers work their way into your jeans past your panties, you can’t help the small, surprised gasp that escapes from behind your lips. Your hips lift and Seungcheol’s middle finger barely presses between your folds, brushing over your clit, and it’s almost enough to make you want to scream his name. 

You didn’t remember being this easy to please, but perhaps it wasn’t even that… no, perhaps it was Seungcheol touching you. Maybe it was his fingers sliding against your wet folds and parting them so that he can circle your entrance with that same middle finger. It was because this time you were with the man you had spent hours trying to avoid picturing spending your life with and now he was groaning your name, feeling your slick arousal coating his fingers for the first time. 

“Baby, oh my god, Y/N.” Seungcheol feels his mouth water as he feels his fingers slipping through your soft, wet folds. He just shakes his head as he tries to angle his hand in your tight jeans to press his finger into you, only to whine in frustration when he can’t. “Gotta get these off. Wanna taste you… gotta open you up, baby girl.” 

Smiling as you run your fingers through Seungcheol’s hair, hearing him whine, you lower your eyes to his hands as he tugs at your jeans, working them down your legs. There was this amazing juxtaposition when it came to him. You had just felt so small under him and now you were listening to him whine and talk with a pout on his lips as he tried to pull your pants off while still talking to you with such a dirty mouth. 

Grinning to himself as he drops your jeans on the floor next to the bed, Seungcheol glances up at you before he wraps his arms under your thighs and scoots you up in the bed suddenly. Gasping his name, you grab at his shirt out of surprise, feeling it pull up his body as he meets your eyes again with a raised brow. 

“Can’t have you falling off the bed. Do you want my shirt? You can have it, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes follow Seungcheol’s hand as he reaches over his shoulder to tug at his shirt, pulling it up over his head with one swift movement. There were many ways to remove a shirt but that had to be the sexiest way you had ever seen. Trying to push your thighs together, you find you can’t as Seungcheol’s knee rests between them, drawing his eyes down to your legs as he hands you his shirt. 

“Fuck… look at you.” 

Hissing out a moan, you clench your fingers around Seungcheol’s shirt and lift your hips when he pushes his thumb against the center of your panties, where the cloth was sticking to your skin. This wasn’t what you meant by giving you more, but any complaints can’t make it out of your mouth as Seungcheol smirks at you, one hand resting on the bed next to your hip and the other staying between your legs. 

Brushing his knuckles over your wet panties, he lets out a breath before pulling them to the side and letting out a deep groan at the sight. He knew you were wet. He had felt it on his fingers and it was easy to see even through your panties, but seeing your glistening skin was another thing entirely. 

“So pretty… you’re so wet, baby girl. Is it uncomfortable?” 

Nodding, you close your eyes tightly, feeling tears threatening to spill over the rims of your eyes from just anticipation. 

“Yes, Cheol…” 

A soft, sweet, faux cooing sound slips from his lips before Seungcheol lowers himself down between your legs to run his tongue over your soft folds. Grunting to the taste, he furrows his brows and wraps his fingers around your panties tighter, keeping them to the side as he wraps his free arm around your hip, tugging you closer to his mouth. One simple taste wasn’t nearly enough, it was only enough to make him feel feral with desire for you and for him to want to bury his face between your legs for the rest of his life. 

Bringing Seungcheol’s shirt up to your mouth, you bite down on the cotton to muffle your moans. Your eyes close tightly, tears running from your eyes and towards your hairline as Seungcheol’s lips wrap around your clit, and he sucks hard and groans, sending a vibration through your body. You feel yourself clench around nothing until he runs his tongue along your folds, massaging them, pulling them into his mouth and finally pressing his tongue into your needy hole. 

“Seungcheol!” 

The shirt falls from your lips as you scream his name, feeling the pressure that has been building in your abdomen and threatening to overflow. Seungcheol’s lips pull up ever so slightly, even as he nudges his nose against your clit and fucks you with his tongue, feeling you clench around the muscle. 

He wanted you to cum for him. He needed it more than he needed water to survive the desert. You were all that made sense right now, and getting you to bliss was the answer to everything. 

Sliding his hand from around your hip, Seungcheol grunts under his breath as he leans back, face wet with your slick. Spitting on your entrance, he works two of his fingers into your velvet walls, watching you arch your back off the bed. 

“There you go, baby.” 

He could feel you clamping down around his fingers as you became impossible wetter, your cum seeping around his fingers with each deep thrust. 

“Oh my god, Cheol...”

Smiling against your inner thigh, Seungcheol glances up at you to meet your eyes as he carefully slides his fingers out of you, feeling your walls pulse around them. He wanted more, but even if you decided that you couldn’t handle more or that you didn’t want more, seeing you like that would be enough. 

Reaching out for him, you wrap your legs around his waist, feeling instantly frustrated at the feeling of his jeans against your skin. The only thing that makes it better is his soft, plush lips on yours. You try to think quickly of anything better than Choi Seungcheol’s kiss—the way he would smile against your mouth before licking into it with a groan—and nothing comes to mind. Muttering into the kiss, you drag your fingers along his sides, feeling him shiver under your hands before he leans back to look down at you with want in his eyes. 

“Off, take them off. Want—I want you. Please?” 

At first, when you say off, Seungcheol’s heart almost drops into his stomach. He thinks that you really have had enough of him for the night, but then your nails tug at the top of his jeans and a smile pulls at his pretty lips. 

“Anything you want... fuck, Y/N. I’d give you the world.” 

Sucking on your bottom lip, you feel heat rising in your cheeks and along your chest and neck at Seungcheol’s words. You had fallen deep and hard for this man and he was a romantic. You weren’t going to get out of this without a few scars or in one piece, but now you weren’t sure if you wanted to. 

Watching him closely, your eyes follow Seungcheol as he slides off the bed to push his jeans down along with his boxers, leaving him naked in front of you. Bringing your fingers up to your already bitten lips, you turn on your side and press your cheek against your arm, trying to hide your reaction, but the look on Seungcheol’s face tells you that you haven’t gotten off that easily. 

Moving back to you, he runs his hand up the length of your leg, stopping at your hip as he tilts his head to meet your eyes, his other hand pulling your fingers from your lips. Seungcheol watches as your lips fall open on a soft, breathy gasp of his name when he guides your hand to his cock. With your hand in his, he guides your palm over the head of his length before wrapping your fingers around his shaft and dragging your hand from tip to base. 

“This okay?”

Nodding quickly, you whine, feeling Seungcheol thrust his hips gently towards your hand as he lets go of yours in place of running his fingers over your head, a groan slipping from his lips. He didn’t want to get off like this, and he wouldn’t, but with how you had been looking at him—a mixture of lust and surprise—Seungcheol wanted to make sure you knew what was going inside of you. 

Your eyes stay on his face for a moment longer before they drop to your hand and Seungcheol’s cock in your hand. It wasn’t as if you couldn’t tell he was big, but feeling and seeing were different stories. It wasn’t length but girth. He was thick enough that you could already imagine the stretch and found yourself thanking him in your mind for making you cum first. 

“Sh—shit baby… I gotta stop you.” 

Putting his hand back over yours, Seungcheol licks his lips and moves your hand from his leaking cock as it twitches, almost begging you for more. He already felt so close. Just looking at you, fucking you with his tongue, and feeling you on his fingers had been enough to make him feel like he was going to cum, but now your hand on him? He was lucky he didn’t cum the second he put your fingers around his cock. 

“Fuck me, Cheol.” 

Your voice is timid and almost a whisper but Seungcheol can hear it. Furrowing his brows, he licks his lips once more before shaking his head and this time your heart sinks before he speaks and slides his hand between your legs, parting them so he can once again run his fingers through your already swollen, wet folds. 

“No… I’m not going to fuck you, baby girl.” Grinning as you start to pout and whine in protest, Seungcheol leans to kiss your lips as he pushes two fingers into you, feeling you arch off the bed. “I’m gonna make love to you. There’s a difference.” 

Gasping on his lips, you hold on to his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin as Seungcheol rocks his fingers back against your spot, feeling you clench down over them once again. When you throw your head back, cum once again coating his fingers, Seungcheol groans, leaning to press his lips to the column of your throat, feeling your swallow hard under his kiss. 

“That’s it, such a good girl. You feel good?”

Out of breath, you nod weakly as Seungcheol looks down at you, sliding his fingers out of you. 

“That’s all I want, baby…” 

Glancing around the room, Seungcheol leans his head on his arm before taking a breath and wincing a bit before asking you what he had been mildly dreading from the moment this had begun. He knew it could make or break the moment, but it was important. 

“I didn’t bring anything with me with the assumption that something like this was happening. 

Fuck, I mean, I don’t even think I have condoms at my place. Do you have anything?” 

Smiling as you bite your lips, you run your fingers over Seungcheol’s cheek before tracing his lips, feeling him press a kiss to your fingers. 

“I’m on birth control, Cheol. It’s fine.” 

Taking a deep breath against your fingers, Seungcheol nods, feeling the pressure melt away as you run your knee along his outer thigh up to his hip. He hated the idea of disappointing you after making a big promise like he had, but now the pressure was taken over by desire. It was an honor to be in your bed in the first place, but like this? His head was spinning.

Sliding his fingers along your bent leg, Seungcheol leans into your hand as you cup his cheek before he turns to kiss your palm and nods, letting you know without words what he was doing. Gasping softly at the feeling of the tip of his cock running through your folds, you close your eyes and drop your hand to his shoulder as you push your head back into the pillow. Not even imagining the stretch could actually prepare you for the real thing as Seungcheol slowly eased inside of you bit by bit. 

“Oh my god.” The words fall from your lips like a prayer, tears finding your eyes again as the painful stretch is quickly replaced with pleasure. “Seungcheol… fuck. You’re…” 

The words get caught in your throat and Seungcheol looks up at you in concern, seeing tears running from your eyes. Running his fingers over your face, he stops moving and presses his lips to yours, only to feel you shake your head and lift your hips, trying to get more of him inside of you. 

“Ah—fuck, Y/N… I just—I wanted to make sure you were okay.” 

Nodding, you capture Seungcheol’s lips, kissing him between words. 

“I’m okay. Feels so good, baby. Please give me more.” 

Hearing you call him baby left Seungcheol stunned and love struck. He pauses before feeling you once again lift your hips before you wrap your legs around his waist and whine his name on his lips. 

“Okay…okay. It’s just... call me that again? Please?” 

You hadn’t even realized what you had said until he asked for you to call him the pet name again. Opening your eyes as you press your head back into the pillow, you feel Seungcheol bottom out in you, the stretch so intense that you clench around him, earning yourself a well deserved groan from his chest. 

“Baby?” 

You watch as Seungcheol nods, another groan dripping from his lips like candy for you to collect. Smiling, you can’t hold back a soft moan as Seungcheol makes a shallow thrust and you feel full and complete. You find yourself wanting to always feel like this. Warm, full, and safe. 

“I—lo—” You struggle with your words as Seungcheol thrusts deep and harder, sending your head towards the headboard. Reaching back over your head, you hold on to the side of it and hum out another moan before nodding. “Just like that, baby. I’m so close. You’re right, there’s a difference.” 

Seungcheol smiles at your words as he leans down to press a kiss on your shoulder. He was hoping you hadn’t been upset with him for telling you he was going to make love to you. There would be plenty of time for him to fuck you later—at least he hoped so. If he got his way, this would be forever. He could already picture himself buying a ring and getting down on one knee. 

Shaking his head to push that thought from his head, not wanting to scare you away, Seungcheol nips at your neck and groans, feeling himself about to burst. He had already made you cum twice, but it was important to him that you were satisfied. He would do everything he could not to cum before you. 

Tugging one of your legs loose from his waist, Seungcheol meets your eyes as he slides his hand between your bodies and finds your folds. He watches as your mouth falls open as his fingertips rub in tight circles over your clit, all while his cock is buried deep inside of you until that cord that was winding in your abdomen snaps once again. 

“Yes…yes—oh fuck!” 

Your voice was like music and had to be what angels sound like. That was all Seungcheol could think of as you came on his cock. You were so tight before, but now, as you orgasmed for the third time with him inside of you, he had seen heaven, and he wasn’t sure how he survived you. 

“Please… now you. Cheol, baby… please?” 

You begging him to cum only solidified that he had to have died and gone to heaven because there was no way for him to resist you. There was no way for him to hold back. Groaning loudly against the crook of your neck, Seungcheol cums as he feels your thighs start to shake around him. 

Running your fingers through his sweaty, damp hair, you close your eyes and focus on catching your breath as Seungcheol rests over your body. He was afraid he was too heavy, but the moment he tried to move away from you, a small whine of protest had him staying right where he was. Placing small kisses on the top of your breasts, Seungcheol then glances up at you, seeing the bliss on your face and he can’t help but smile. 

“You are so beautiful.” 

Laughing softly, you open your eyes and look down at Seungcheol before lifting your hand to hide your face. There was no way you looked remotely beautiful at the moment. You knew you were sweaty and in desperate need of a shower and yet here was the most attractive man you had ever seen in your life, telling you that you were beautiful. 

Wrapping his hand gently around your wrist, Seungcheol pulls your hand from your face and kisses the back of it before bringing your palm to his chest. You feel his heart beating hard as he too works to catch his breath. 

“I’m serious, Y/N. I am so—shit I don’t want to scare you away, but I’m afraid if I don’t, I’ll lose you again. I’m in love with you.” 

Taking a sharp breath at Seungcheol’s confession, you glance up at the ceiling to avoid having to look at his eyes. A small frown replaces his smile as he hears your heart beat quicken in panic. He hadn’t wanted you to panic, but he knew it was a risk. Carefully sliding out of you and to your side, Seungcheol lifts your hand from his chest to his lips and kisses the back of your knuckles as you bite at your lips. 

“Y/N, baby, please look at me? I wanna talk about this. I know you feel something for me or else we wouldn’t be in this bed.” 

Pushing your thighs together, feeling even more sticky and sweaty, you feel yourself becoming even more self conscious until you meet Seungcheol’s eyes and see the concerned look on his face. You didn’t want to hurt him again. You had spent so much of your life running and once you had a good thing, it bit you in the ass. So now that you had walls that he had taken a sledgehammer to, it was terrifying. 

“I—you’re right. I do feel something for you. I feel a lot of things. I’m just so fucking scared, Seungcheol. What if we mess this up? I don’t—” 

Closing your eyes, your words end on a sob as your emotions get the better of you. Moving to pull you into his arms, Seungcheol shakes his head and shushes you before kissing the side of your head, letting you continue.

“I can’t hurt Matthew. I love him so much. I know I shouldn’t. It’s not proper for a teacher to have a favorite like that.” 

Smiling against your head, Seungcheol takes a deep breath and places another kiss before shaking his head. 

“I don’t think it has anything to do with being his teacher or a teacher in general. I think—and you can tell me to shove it up my ass if I’m out of line, but I think it has to do with just love in general. You are maternal, Y/N.” 

Swallowing hard, you hold onto Seungcheol’s forearm as you think through what he has said. 

There was a part of you that did want to tell him to shove it, but a larger part that knew he wasn’t wrong. You had pictured far too often a life with them that wasn’t just being Matthew’s teacher. 

“I feel like I should apologize for that or something.” 

Leaning back to look down at you, Seungcheol moves his hand to tilt your chin up so you will look at him. Furrowing his brow, he shakes his head and the look in his eyes is the most serious you have seen in the entire night. 

“Never apologize for loving my son. He loves you too.” 

The words go straight to your heart and tears stream down your face. You picture Matthew’s sweet smile as you close your eyes and you know you have to ask about him. 

“I—okay. Can I—can I ask how he’s doing?” 

Pulling you back to his chest, Seungcheol leans against your headboard and leans his head back against it with a soft sigh. 

“He’s sad, baby. He misses you. He doesn’t like school as much, even if Mrs. Lim is a decent teacher. He asked if you didn’t like him anymore and that was why you had to teach other little kids.” 

Seungcheol knew the truth of what Matthew had been dealing with would hurt you, but it was something that you needed to know. He could have sugar coated it, but when it came to his son and how he was feeling, that was something Seungcheol would never do. He isn’t surprised when he feels your body shake against his. It breaks his heart to feel your tears against his chest as you turn in his arms to be held tighter. 

“I can’t go back to that—to that school, Cheol. I didn't…  I’m the fucking worst.” 

Shushing you, Seungcheol kisses the top of your head as tears sit on the rims of his eyes, feeling your heartbreak and his own for his son. 

“I know it wasn’t just about us. That wasn’t why you left. What’s done is done. You aren’t the worst; don’t talk about yourself like that. All we need to do is talk to Matthew about it. He will understand.” 

"Alright, listen, if your dad asks about the weekend, what are you gonna say?” 

Jeonghan lifts a brow as he looks down at Matthew on his right. The little boy’s hand in his as he smiles up at him. It had taken a lot to get that smile on his face and he was proud to see it. Between him and Joshua, a weekend of trash tv, and all the worst foods you could feed a child, he was finally seeing the Matthew he knew. 

“That Uncle Jeonghan and Uncle Shua let me watch edgeucational things only on TV.” 

Clicking his tongue as he winks at his godson, Jeonghan fishes his key for Seungcheol’s apartment out of his pocket and pushes the door open. Shifting the overnight bag on his shoulder, he doesn’t glance up until he hears Matthew gasp in surprise. The sound scares him, his eyes widening as the boy takes off, running towards the living room and drawing his eyes in that direction. 

“What! What’s wrong?” 

It’s when he sees you sitting on the couch with Seungcheol that it makes sense. He watches as Matthew wraps his arms around your neck, the sad expression on your face and tears in your eyes as you wrap your arms around the child, pulling him into your lap. 

Meeting Seungcheol’s eyes, Jeonghan lifts his brows and gets a grin back as an answer. Shaking his head, Jeonghan drops the bag from his shoulder onto the couch and lets out a low, deep sigh. It had taken long enough, but clearly things had worked out the way they were supposed to. He just wished it had happened sooner and not at the expense of Matthew’s happiness. At least he could relish in the happy look on his face now, that was making up for almost all of it. 

“Well then, I was going to see if you needed me to stay for a bit today, but clearly...” 

Rolling his eyes, Seungcheol stands up to hug Jeonghan, whispering that he will explain everything later. Glancing back to you and Matthew, he presses his lips together as you nod along with Matthew’s story about his weekend with Uncle Jeonghan and Joshua, letting him have a moment to walk Jeonghan to the door. 

“Yeah, I wanna know all the juicy details. Jihoon owes me 100 bucks.” 

Grinning as Seungcheol makes a face of disgust, Jeonghan waves at you and Matthew before walking out the door, leaving the three of you to yourself. Leaning against the wall, Seungcheol watches for a moment longer, his lip caught between his teeth as you run your fingers through Matthew’s hair lovingly while you explain the new job. 

“But, I’ll still see you all the time. I promise, okay? I just have to help other kids for the rest of the year.” 

Pouting a bit, Matthew wraps his hand around yours, pulling it into his lap before nodding. 

“Mmkay… as long as you come over all the time.” 

Smiling a bit sheepishly as he looks from you to his dad and back, Matthew kicks his legs and giggles, making you tilt your head as Seungcheol moves to the couch to sit next to you. 

“Daddy, does this mean that Miss Y/N can be my mommy now?” 

Blanching slightly, Seungcheol’s mouth falls open as he looks at you, watching your lips press together. Meeting his son’s eyes, he tries to speak before laughing and rubbing the back of his neck. 

“Uh, that’s adult business, son. I don’t know. Maybe one day. You know if Y/N will have your daddy as a husband.” 

Looking away to hide your embarrassed smile, you clear your throat as Matthew giggles once again and slides from your arms to his dad’s. 

“I think that’s a yes. All the boys on the TV show Uncle Shua liked got down on their knees and just asked. Most of the girls said yes, even though they were behind a wall!” 

His eyes widening, Seungcheol looks at you as you laugh and brings your fingers to your lips before speaking. 

“I thought you said you guys watched educational videos?” 

Looking down at his hands, realizing he had said too much, Matthew grins and shrugs. 

“I didn’t say nothing.” 

Eyes narrowing, Seungcheol presses his fingers into his son’s side, tickling him as he shakes his head. 

“I need to have a talk with your uncles about teaching you how to lie and letting you watch garbage.” 

Smiling, you watch the two people you love the most as they laugh and end up hugging when Seungcheol kisses Matthew’s cheek. You could get used to seeing this every day. 

You had thought that after you had helped Seugcheol get Matthew to bed, you might sneak back to your apartment, but then he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and pouted. That was how you ended up on his bed, his lips on your neck as you whined softly, doing your best to keep your voice down, feeling him smile against your skin. 

“Seung–Seungcheol, please. I’m trying to be quiet. I’m not sure I can do this. What if we wake up, Matthew? How do we even explain—” 

Leaning back, Seungcheol meets your eyes and purses his lips before sliding off the bed and offering you his hand. Taking a breath to calm down, you put your fingers on his and let him guide you off the bed and towards the connected ensuite. 

“We don’t have to explain anything, baby. He’s a heavy sleeper, but if you are worried.” 

Leaning against the counter of the double sink, you watch as Seungcheol leans into the glass shower to turn it on. The sound of water fills your ears and you smile as the man you had grown to adore beyond words looks back at you for praise as if he had just moved the earth for you. 

“Smart…” 

Nodding along with your words, Seungcheol moves back over to you, sliding the skirt of your sundress up your legs to your hips. 

“I mean, I am a doctor. It’s a requirement.” 

Smacking his chest, you listen to Seungcheol’s laugh and it makes you feel warm and safe. Lifting your arms, you let him quickly undress you, dropping your dress on the counter before he takes a knee and hooks his fingers into your panties, shimmying them down your legs. 

“You don’t look half bad on your knee, Dr. Choi.” 

Seungcheol lifts his brow, a smirk pulling at one side, before he leans to press a kiss to your leg, discarding your panties to the side. You run your fingers through his hair, enjoying the feeling of his soft lips on your skin, chill bumps spreading under his kisses. 

“You like me on my knee? Wanna see me like this again?” 

Your cheeks burning, you bite at your lips and hide your smile as you look away from his eyes as Seungcheol looks up at you before rising to his feet once again. Turning your head back towards him, Seungcheol brushes his lips over yours as steam starts to fill the room. He could feel the warmth on your cheeks under his fingers as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone towards your hairline. 

“Hm? I asked you something, baby girl.” 

Whining his name, you take a breath as Seungcheol takes a step back to tug off his shirt and quickly get rid of his pants and boxers before offering you his hand once again. 

“You can’t ask me things like that. It’s too soon.” 

Shaking his head, Seungcheol leads you towards the shower, opening the door for you and following you inside. His eyes move along your body as the water hits your skin and you lean your head back into the stream of water with a smile on your face. Lifting his free hand, Seungcheol runs it between your breasts and down your stomach as the smile on his lips grows. 

“Too soon for what? For me to already be thinking about wanting to marry you? Shit, I was thinking about that the night we drank wine until 2 in the morning on my couch.” 

Licking water from your lips, you lift your head to look at Seungcheol as he speaks to you. His words make you feel hot and almost speechless. He had wanted you for that long? He had wanted you that way for that long. 

Meeting your eyes for a second, Seungcheol lets out a soft hum of appreciation at the dazed look on your face before his middle finger drags between your folds and your knees buckle. Quickly wrapping his arm around your waist, he groans as he turns your back towards the shower wall and lets you rest against it. 

“I’m in it for the long haul, baby. I think you know that. Is that something you’d want? Hm? What was Matthew asking earlier? To be his mommy?” 

Your lips fall open in a moan of Seungcheol’s name as you feel two of his fingers hook into you and his palm rests against your clit. Lifting your leg, you wrap one around his waist, letting him keep you upright as you try to think straight, only managing to babble incoherently. You weren’t sure how he wanted you to think clearly and come up with logical words when his fingers were so deep in you. 

“Tell me… I really wanna know. Doesn’t mean it’s gonna happen tonight, but... I won’t lie, thinking about you like that—as my wife…” You feel Seungcheol shiver as a grin pulls at his lips against your jaw. “It turns me on.” 

You knew Seungcheol was romantic and now you knew he had particular kinks. God you were in trouble. You were in trouble of being in constant pleasure if you did end up being this man's wife. Holding onto Seungcheol’s biceps, you whisper his name as his lips brush against yours before nodding and feeling him nod in return. 

“You do? Yeah? Can you say it for me? I wanna hear it. Indulge me, sweetheart.” 

Whining, you lean your head back against the shower wall as you feel yourself starting to fall over the edge. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes from pleasure as you whimper and your mouth falls open, cum slipping down Seungcheol’s fingers as you moan out the words he wants to hear. 

“I would; I would wanna be your wife, Cheol. I love you.” 

Bracing himself against the wall, palm flat against it, Seungcheol groans, feeling himself unable to hold back. It’s not everything he has to give you, but you are surprised to feel warm cum on your stomach, drawing your eyes downward. 

“Oh, my god...”

Sighing, Seungcheol laughs, a bit embarrassed, before pushing off the wall and sliding his fingers out of you. Wiping his mouth clean of water, he uses his other hand to hold your leg to his hip as before, stroking his still hard cock a couple times and lining himself up with your eager pussy. 

“I told you I liked the idea of it. I love you, too. Fuck…” 

The last word out of Seungcheol’s mouth is drawn out as he slips himself inside of you with some effort. In this position, you were even tighter than he was used to. He had taken you to bed a few times over the weekend, but never like this and you had never sucked his cock in like you were trying to milk him dry. 

Holding your hip tightly, Seungcheol meets your eyes as you let out a soft gasp, feeling his hips meet yours. At this angle, you felt like he was going to tear you apart, but you weren’t complaining. There was bad pain, and then there was this. This was that sweet, satisfying pain that led to so much pleasure that you saw stars, and you were starting to see them. 

Lips meeting yours, Seungcheol groans into the kiss as he grinds his hips against yours, finding it harder to move after a few deep thrusts when you clamp down over him and cum once again. Scratching at his wet skin, you bite down into his bottom lip before leaning back from his kiss to pant out his name when Seungcheol groans so deep it sounds like a growl. 

He had made love to you before; there had truly been a difference between that and now. The way his fingers were bruising your hips and the way his hips were slapping against yours—now he was fucking you. You knew you wouldn’t be able to tell him which way you preferred, even as you watched his mouth fall open as he cums once again, this time filling you and pushing it out with each deep thrust. 

“Holy shit, baby.” 

Furrowing your brows, you let out a soft gasp as Seungcheol slips from you and lowers your leg safely back to the floor. Keeping your back to the wall, you take a few deep breaths, feeling his fingers running along your sides as his lips press to your throat, up your jaw, and finally to your lips before you smile. 

“That was…” 

Nodding to agree with you, Seungcheol laughs against your lips before taking a step back to step under the showerhead, feeling the warm water run over his body. Opening your eyes, you can’t help the way you shyly look at him before laughing and looking away, making him grin as he reaches for his shampoo with a tilt of his head. 

“What? Are you shy now? Is this about being in the shower with me or, uh, wife talk?” 

Wrinkling your nose, you knock your head back against the shower wall before pushing off of it and towards Seungcheol. Watching him follow you with curious eyes, you sigh and lift your arms to run your fingers through his hair, spreading around the shampoo as you speak, feeling his hands running over your hips. 

“The last part. It is a little fast. but I—is it bad that I like it too? Maybe I want that? Not now!” You are quick to add on the last to your sentence, making Seungcheol laugh before he leans his head back into the water, washing out the shampoo from his hair. “Just in the future, with you?” 

Taking a breath, Seungcheol runs his fingers through his hair and then holds on to your waist, switching positions under the shower head to let you stand there as he grabs body wash to start spreading it over your body slowly. 

“Not at all. I want it... in the future.” 

Smiling brightly, Seungcheol meets your eyes as you whine, feeling overwhelmed. Leaning to kiss your nose, he sighs and spreads the soapy water along your body as he nods. 

“Did I ever tell you that if I got married again, I’d love to have my honeymoon in Barcelona?” 

He was great at breaking the tension. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled up at your lips or the laugh that spilled from between them as you shook your head, turning in his arms to let him wash your back. 

“No? Well, that’s my dream destination. I’ve never been, and what better place to go with my bride?” 

READ THE BONUS ON PATREON

You, Jisung, Felix and Minho hung out together all the time. Since your engagement with Jisung, it's like a ritual the four of you followed. It helped you escape the awkward alone time with Jisung. And also have your best friend Felix with you all the time.

When the engagement was announced, you were afraid what kind of a man Jisung would be. But he turned out to be the sweetest soul. You two hit off almost immediately, and you were grateful for the friendship you both were able to build.

This in turn gave you the courage to admit to Jisung that you didn't really want to marry him, because you were secretly in love with Felix. What you didn't expect was Jisung to be this happy about it. Turns out, he wasn't into this wedding as well.

Jisung blushed so hard, he looked like a tomato confessing to you that he was gay, and in love with Minho. You stared at him for a second too long and he panicked. But you just hugged him and said it's ok.

You couldn't go to your parents about this because they would just find you another guy to marry, so you both decide to play along for a while - to buy some time to figure how to get out of this wedding.

Right then, Minho was in the kitchen, bringing out some snacks and Jisung had just stepped away to help him. You and Felix sat huddled together, looking at something on his phone. Felix had one arm around you, the other holding the phone.

Jisung calls out from the kitchen, asking if you wanted cake and you yell back saying yes, and when you turn back, Felix is watching you, a soft smile playing on his face.

'What?' You asked, feeling the heat creep up your neck.

Felix just shakes his head and then something shifts. You just know it, and feel that familiar ache you feel deep within you when you look at Felix. The feelings that you've tried so hard to bury. And then, Felix just leans forward and kissed you.

And you kiss him back.

You both pull back just as you hear Jisung's voice again, looking aghast. Minho and Jisung came with trays of food, and settled on the couch opposite to you and Felix. Jisung noticed your sudden stiffness, and raised his eyebrows at you, a silent question if everything was ok.

You smile and nod quickly, and dig into the cake just so you wouldn't cry. The chance to actually talk about what the fuck had happened didn't come that day, and you were a bit sad that you had to let Jisung drive you home as Felix stood watching, his hands in his pockets. His usual pleasant face was now expressionless, and he was nodding at something Minho said, and you just sigh.

Jisung stopped in front of your house and looked at you, as if waiting for you to say something. His eyes drifted from your face to your house, and he said, 'Your mother's at the window.'

You nod and say, 'You know what to do.'

Jisung leans forward and you close your eyes, just to avoid the awkwardness. His lips don't feel that weird on yours now and you give your mother a good show by placing a hand on his arm as he moved closer.

'Is everything ok? You and Felix looked... I don't know... off?' He said against your lips, casually moving a strand of hair off your forehead.

'No. I don't know.' You mumble and he just gives you a knowing smile.

'What?' You asked and he brushed his lips against yours again.

'Just say it. I know you like him. And he likes you. Just put him off his misery already. It's cruel.' Jisung said, bumping your forehead with his.

'I think I will. Did you and Minho talk, then?' You ask, reaching out to touch his cheek. 'Is she still watching?'

'Still watching.' Jisung said, his eyes darting to your living room window, and you both kiss again. 'And yeah. We kinda did. It was so weird. He didn't talk to me for days, because he thinks it's fucked up to just play along till we... you know.'

'He's right in a way.' You say with a shrug. 'This is fucked up.'

Jisung chuckled.

'Go now. I can't kiss you anymore. Just go talk to Felix. And I'll see you tomorrow.' Jisung said, getting your seat belt off.

'Love you Jisungie.' You said loudly (for your mother) and he laughed again.

'Love you more, jagiya.' He said, and you wave him off and turn around to see your mother fumbling with the curtains and you sigh again.

You ignore her as you go to your room, and change. Once settled in bed for the night, you text Felix.

Y/N: Lixie, where are you

Y/N: can we talk please

Lixie: about?

Y/N: lixie baby, what's wrong?

Lixie: I'm not your baby. Jisung is.

Y/N: no, don't think so

Lixie: don't do that, y/n

Lixie: just don't

Y/N: talk to me bub, can you do that? And give me a chance to explain?

Y/N: come over? My window will be open

Lixie: why would I do that?

Lixie: pretty sure jisung wouldn't appreciate that

Y/N: baby, come over

Lixie: don't baby me

Y/N: Come over, Yongbok. Don't make me say that again or I'll be climbing in through your window.

Y/N: you know I'll do it

Lixie: what's with you rn

Y/N: you have 15 min to get here. I'll break down your window if it's not open after that.

Lixie: FINE.

You try not to laugh as you watch Felix climbing in through your bedroom window. He's so smooth with it, he could be spiderman for all you know.

He stood in front of you looking annoyed and said, 'So? What's this thing that couldn't wait?'

'Lixie, come here.' You whisper, holding your hand out to him.

He takes his shoes off and throws his jacket to the floor before climbing into bed with you. He is beside you, his chest flush against your back and his face in the crook of your neck.

'Why are you doing this to me?' He whispers. 'I'm sorry I kissed you, ok? I don't know what happened.'

'Baby, please don't apologize.' You whisper back and he just makes a little strangled sound. You shiver as it literally went straight to your core.

'Lixie... Jisung and I, we're not really... You know... We're just doing this for our parents. Um, we don't like each other like that. And we are definitely not getting married.'

Felix froze behind you and then there's a flash of movement as he grabs you and turns you around to face him.

'Excuse me, what?' He asked, his eyes wild and that beautiful face had the most beautiful frown on it.

'Yeah. I'm sorry I didn't say anything. I was afraid... And when you kissed me today, I was so happy, Lixie. I was so happy that you actually felt the same way about me. I mean, when Jisung and I would break up, he would have Minho, and I was always afraid of what would happen to me... Another arranged marriage?'

'Wait wait wait!' Felix was sitting up now, looking scandalized. 'What did you mean by that?!'

'Lixie! Jisung and I are just going about with this charade only to buy time and think about how to break it to our parents. He and Minho, they're together. And have been for a while. His dad rushed to get him married because he thinks if Jisung kissed a girl a few times he would magically just like girls. Anyway, I wasn't sure if you liked me like that. I mean, we've never really had any boundaries, so I wasn't sure... '

Felix was just staring at you before covering his mouth with his hands.

'Jisung and Minho?! Are you serious right now, Y/N?!' Felix's eyes were so wide. 'Oh my God!'

'Yah, shut up.' You laugh. 'Are you ignoring everything I say about us?'

'No no never. I assumed we were a thing... You know... Like you said, this whole no boundaries thing...i don't think half the things we've done are on the normal best friends catalog.' Felix said, falling back on your bed. And he smiles. 'So, we're good then?'

'Of course we are. And you don't have to worry, 'coz Jisung knows and it's all good.' You smile.

'Oh my God, Minho and Jisung?!' Felix was laughing so hard, you hit him with a pillow. 'Those dogs!'

'Shut up!'

'Cm'ere'

He grabs your arm, pulling you against him. You kiss him and your lips move together softly at first, and then more urgently.

'I love you, baby.' You mumble against his wet plump lips and your heart swells as he gives you the most radiant smile ever.

'I love you too, baby.' He whispered and his deep voice sent shivers down your spine.

'Mum, what the hell is this?!' You whine as your mother adjusted your dress at the neckline. 'I look...bad.'

That neckline was definitely way too low for you and no matter how many times she pulled at it, it wasn't helping.

'I will just wear the other one, please.' You beg. 'Jisung likes me enough even if I wear a potato sack at this point. All this is for him right? This is not really necessary.'

'Sweetheart, stop right there. This is a really good dress. A little bit of style never killed anyone.' Your mum said, rolling her eyes and leaving the room.

Your father just looked so embarrassed as he saw you and he glared at you.

'Oh please, ask your wife.' You snap at him before going down the stairs. You waited on the couch for Jisung and you could hear your parents fighting upstairs.

'I'm leaving!' You yell as you slammed the front door shut and stalked over to Jisung's car.

'Oooo, sexy!' Jisung said as you got into his car and you give him such a glare, he just laughs, looking away.

'I've never seen you like this before.' Jisung said as he drove. 'Looks good though.'

'Well, my mother will be glad. This is to seduce you, so.' You bite out and he laughs more.

'Well, consider me seduced.' Jisung said, tickling your bare shoulder and you slap his hand away.

'Then I'll give it to Minho, so it'll be of some use.' You growl and he just laughs more.

'Whats wrong, babe? Are you uncomfortable? Why did you even wear it?' He asked softly. 'You know you don't have to do these things for me.'

'My mother thinks otherwise.' You mumble sadly. 'I don't feel like myself. But since I'm in it already, you better let her know that you like it. Or hate it. Whatever.'

'Don't worry about that.' Jisung said, taking your hand in his, and squeezing gently. 'I know this is my mum's doing. I'm sorry you have to do all this, Y/N. You look beautiful, I swear you do.'

'Thank you.' You said, giving him a smile. 'At least, Felix will be there, so...'

Jisung gives you a naughty smile and you just blush. You both walk into the venue for the charity event and spot Minho and Felix immediately, both in a conversation. You approach them, holding hands and seeing you, both of them stare with open mouths.

You just give them both a stiff smile and nod, completely, embarrassed.

'Y/N, what the -' Minho was at a loss of words.

And Felix took more time to recover.

'You look beautiful, babe.' He whispered, his eyes glinting with desire.

'Thank you.' You said, blushing.

And you all get talking have some dinner together. Just as you and Felix were talking, your mother appears by your side.

'Sweetheart, a word?'

You step aside with her and she says, 'Why are you and Jisung with these two all the time? Go spend some time together!'

You had a lot to say to her, and you put all that into one huge glare and she just pushed you away. You stalk towards your table and tap Jisung on the shoulder.

'A word?' You mutter and he follows you.

'What's wrong?' He asked.

'Don't you know? It's time to put in a show, it seems.' You say and Jisung just wraps an arm around your waist.

Away from the crowd, but still somewhere at least your mums can see, you both stop and you just want to cry.

'Jisung, this is not fair. I don't want to-' you start and he just puts his arms around you, and your little sobs are muffled against his warm chest.

'I'm so sorry, Y/N. This is all my fault.' He says, just as sad. 'Let's get it over with.'

You nod, and he helps you wipe your tears away with a handkerchief, without ruining your makeup. And then you kiss. You just try to close your eyes and let him lead. You've never kissed a man this platonically in your life. It didn't evoke any feelings whatsoever in either of you. He tilted his head, deepening the kiss.

And just when you pull back, Minho and Felix come, wondering what had happened. And they freeze.

Minho drops the dessert he was holding, his mouth hanging open, and Felix took a step back, looking stung.

Without a word, Minho just walked away and out of the hall. Felix just stood looking at you, as you pushed Jisung to go after Minho. Felix watched Jisung go and turned to you, his eyes moist.

'You said... you promised...' Felix began but he just looked down at the glass in his hand and fell silent.

'Lixie, will you hear me out? Or are you just gonna run too?' You ask, holding his hand in yours tightly.

He looks at you, and a tear escapes his eye.

'We do this just to show our mums. It's sick, I know, but that's just how my life is right now. I feel absolutely nothing for him, or he for me. This is all just an act, so we can keep our mums off our backs. If they see that it's not working, they'll just find someone else for us. Lixie, I love only you I'm sorry you had to see that, but it's the truth.'

You wipe away your own tears and Felix nods.

'I don't think I'll get used to it.' Felix said sadly. 'Warn me next time.'

'I'll make sure you'll never have to see this again.' You say with a sigh. 'Lixie... You are free to leave me... You know that right? You don't deserve this.'

He just looks shocked that you said that.

'I'm not going anywhere!' He snapped at you. 'I know this is hard for you. I'm not leaving you to suffer alone! I know we're safe. And I'm not threatened by Jisung.'

You nod.

'I'm sorry I made you feel that way.' He whispered softly.

You just shake your head, wiping away some fresh tears.

You sit across from Minho at the cat cafe Jisung suggested. A nice black and white cat rested on Minho's lap, purring contently as Minho rubbed under it's ear. You had apologized to him before, but you and Jisung thought it would be a good idea for you to spend some time with Minho and Jisung with Felix, just to clear any misunderstandings.

'Minho, come on, how long are you gonna be mad at me?' You ask, looking at a cat having fun with your skirt.

'I'm not mad.' Minho said, his eyes fixed on the cat.

'I'm really sorry! I swear to God I don't love Jisung like that. I want Felix. He's the only one I have ever loved, Minho. He means the world to me. Jisung is a great guy, and you should never doubt his love for you.'

'I don't doubt him.'

'Ok good. So it's me you don't trust. Ok.'

'I didn't say that.'

'Do you think I enjoy having to kiss a man I don't even like? It's gross, Minho.'

'Kissing Jisung isn't gross.'

'It is for me.'

'Y/N. I'm not mad at you, I promise. I just...he's everything to me. I can't imagine what I'll do without him.'

'I know. I promise he's yours.' You said, and Minho looks at you with a little smile. And you smile back.

'Forgive me?' You ask.

'No. You forgive me for being an idiot.' Minho said, reaching across the table to take your hand. 'We'll not do this again. I hate fighting with Ji, or you. It's so stressful. I mean, there's no one who understands us like you do, and I always want us all to be together, happy.'

'Me too, Minho.'

And Jisung and Felix sat at the park with coffees and pastries, eating in silence. Before Jisung finally cleared his throat and said, 'I'm really sorry, Felix. We should've been clear about everything. This is not great for us either... But it's something we have to do. My parents know that I love Minho and they really believe that Y/N can seduce it out of me. I swear I don't know what they really think is wrong with me. It's embarrassing.'

'You don't have to apologize, Jisung. She told me everything.' Felix said, shaking his head. 'I'm sorry you have to go through all that.'

'It's horrible.' Jisung said, his voice thick. 'They always made me feel like I'm abnormal. And Y/N is the only one who ever understood. And I love her for it.'

Felix nods with a smile.

'She's like that... Always there, even if it's harder on her.' He said.

'You're really lucky to have her.' Jisung said with a grin.

'I am.' Felix said, grinning back.

As if things weren't hard enough, your mother announced your wedding date, which was less than six months away. You were scared and angry and just pushed past her and out of the house without a word. You called Jisung with tears in your eyes and he came to get you.

You sat with him at your regular cafe, where even now, the silly waitress made hearts over your coffee and gave you a little wink. Jisung just cringed, as he thanked her and looked back at you.

'What can I do, Y/N. Tell me, I'll do whatever you want. I don't even care anymore.' He said, holding your hand.

'Can we run away? You and me, Felix and Minho, all of us. Can't we just run away?' You ask, your voice trembling.

'Sweetheart, let's just go and tell them everything.' Jisung said, his voice heavy with resignation.

'Let's run away.' You say again, and Jisung just drops his head on the table.

'Ji, please. Let's just go somewhere... My parents are suffocating me and it's just so hard to be home right now.' You say in a small voice that you know Jisung can't say no to.

And that's how you two end up in a little cabin in the mountains with Felix and Minho. You love this. This is your dream life - the four of you, happy and together. Obviously, way too far fetched, but still a good dream.

Felix smiled as he joined you in the little back porch, shoulders brushing.

'This is nice.' He says, giving you a soft look.

'It is.' You whisper before pressing your lips to his. Your lips move together, slow and warm, and just as you lean closer, the door opens and Minho steps out. You hear a groan and giggle, letting Felix pull you into his arms.

'What do you want Minho?' You ask, giving him a playful glare.

'You were begging for the shower, so just wanted to let you know that it's free now.' Minho said, grinning at you.

'Oh thank you thank you!' You sing, rushing into the cabin, leaving Minho and Felix chuckling.

You have a nice long bath, feeling so relaxed and safe, knowing the boys are around and you don't have to worry about anything while you were here with them. Once done, you wrap a fluffy towel around your body and walk out of the bathroom. Three pairs of eyes follow you as you walk and you turn around slowly. Minho whistles, and you sigh.

'What the fuck is wrong with you all?' You mutter, and Jisung snaps out of it first, blushing.

Minho laughs, getting a glare from Jisung and your eyes meet Felix, who follows you into your room like a puppy.

'You naughty girl, why would you do that to us?!' Felix asks, pulling you into his arms.

You just laugh and put your arms around his neck and press a kiss to his lips. He walks you back to the bed and pulls the towel off your body slowly, before he watches you get on the bed.

His lips are soft as he places open mouthed kisses down your neck and chest and you hold him close as he makes love to you. You are so happy here, with him.

Later as you pull on some clothes, you realize that you had left your engagement ring in the bathroom. It's so weird, not having it on your finger and you try not to look as flustered as you feel. Felix is just lying on the bed giving you a lazy look, not bothering to get dressed.

'Come on, Lix, let's go help with dinner ok?' You say, as you leave the room and you hear him sigh before mumbling an ok.

Jisung steps into the bathroom, and his eyes immediately fall on the ring sitting on the sink. He feels a pang of hurt as he picks it up. Of course, you didn't love each other like that, but months of being together all the time, pretending to be lovers had him feeling a lot protective over you. He liked Felix, he was a good guy. But still seeing his ring sitting here, neglected, had him feeling things.

Suddenly you rush in and look at the sink and say, 'Shit, did you see my ring? I kept it here before-'

Jisung holds it out and you see that he's just... sad? You take the ring and slip it onto your finger and ask, 'What's wrong, Ji?'

'I don't know.' Jisung says, not looking at you. 'I'll miss you...when we break off the engagement... I will miss you a lot.'

'Hey, it's not goodbye or anything. You're not just my fiance, you're my best friend.' You say, taking his hand in yours.

'Isn't Felix your best friend?' Jisung asked teasingly.

'He is my boyfriend, now. So you're promoted to best friend, Jisungie. You can't get rid of me.' You said, hugging him and he laughs.

Minho comes around at the exact time and groans.

'Why am I catching you both like this all the time?' He asked, leaning against the door frame. 'Maybe you shouldn't call off the engagement.'

'Minho!' Jisung says, giving him a look.

'Or, I could just marry both of you.' Minho adds, making you laugh.

'Minho, I think you're just making excuses now. You're obsessed with me. Admit it.' You say, brushing past him, making sure to press him against the door frame, and he just sighs, placing a hand against his heart.

'Am I that obvious?' He asks, and Jisung slaps his back as he follows you to the kitchen.

'Stop flirting with my girl, Minho.' Felix calls out.

'Tell your girl to stop flirting with my boy, then.' Minho says and you just laugh.

'Jisungie was mine first. Sorry, Min.' You stick your tongue out at him and hold your hand up to show your ring.

'See?' Minho points out to Felix.

Felix laughs, wrapping his arms around you from the back and resting his chin on your shoulder.

'Ok, we can make a deal, I'll just marry all of you. So I can still have Jisungie, and Minho can us both and I'll be with Lixie.' You say, and Minho laughs, joined by Jisung.

'That's a lot. Do you think you can satisfy all your customers equally, hm?' Minho asked, placing his elbow on the table and putting his chin on his hand.

'Mhm, wouldn't you like to know.' You just shake your head and Minho gives you a smug look.

You feel Felix's lips on your neck and you smile.

'I'm so happy to be here, with you guys. I feel more at home here with you than anywhere else.' You say softly, eyes stinging with tears. 'I never want this to end.'

'Hey, no crying here.' Jisung says watching Felix wipe your tears away, and kissing your cheek.

Minho gives you a loving smile and you know you've made a family of your own out of this mess.

'So, what's gonna happen when we get back? Six months isn't much.' He says, sighing.

'I don't think we should wait anymore. Our parents are gonna freak out no matter when we tell them.' Jisung says, taking a seat next to Minho.

'You're right. No point dragging this on.' You agree, and your arms cover Felix's on your waist. 'I just hope they don't put me on house arrest or something.'

'I don't think you should stay after we reveal our intentions. Of course they're gonna imprison you! You should move in with Felix, or you can come stay with me until you have a plan.' Minho says and you look at Felix.

'I live with my parents, so, I guess you'll have to take me in too.' Felix tells Minho with a shrug.

'What's with you rich people?' Minho grumbles. 'Fine you can all come and stay with me then.'

'I hope you're good with speeches, Y/N, because I suck.' Jisung says, wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

Jisung looked terrified as you both sat in front of your parents. You each had a bag packed and ready in Jisung's car. Jisung was sweating profusely and he hand your hand in a tight grip.

'What's going on, Y/N?' Your father asked and you and Jisung exchanged a glance before you told them that you didn't want to get married.

All four of the elders looked furious.

'Dad! You can't be asking me to marry a man who can never love me or even give me a family! Come on!' You snap as your father gives you a threatening look.

'My son is perfectly capable of giving you a family!' Jisung's mother snapped at you.

'I am aware, thank you. He doesn't want to do it though.' You said, poking Jisung on his rib to make him talk.

'Yeah, um, no, I don't want to.' He spits out, his voice trembling.

'Why not?!' Your mother questions him.

'Because I don't like her like that. Um, I don't like girls...like that?' Jisung just holds on to you tighter.

'Look at yourself, saying you don't want her and then clinging on to her!' Your mother says, her words sharp.

'Mom, we're friends. We still love each other as friends. We just don't want to get married.' You say, trying not to shout. 'Jisung is a good man-'

'If this is for Felix, you won't get that wish granted you spoiled brat!' Your mother snaps again.

'Unfortunately for you, this IS for Felix. I love him and he's the only man I want. So there.' You shout back and Jisung pulls you back as you take a step towards your mother.

'How dare you?!'

You feel the sting of her hand on your cheek as she slaps you and Jisung is so shocked, he puts his arms around you, looking at your red cheek.

'I love Felix.' You say again. 'And I'm going to him after this. I'm sorry I'm a disappointment to you. But you should know that you're a disappointment to me too, because you guys just tried to get me married to a gay man just for the sake of your business.'

Your father looked stricken. And Jisung's parents looked guilty.

'Jisung is an amazing man and I truly love him as my friend. I will always be there for him, but he doesn't want a wife. He loves a man, a great one at that. And you all can't just barge in and make our lives all about your business deals.' You say, and you take Jisung's hand. You see that he's crying and you wipe his tears off.

'Don't let anyone tell you that you're not good enough. You are more than just good. So is Minho.' You tell him and the two of you leave, not looking back.

'You really said all that?' Felix asked, his eyes huge.

'She did.' Jisung confirmed as he placed an ice pack against your cheek.

You push it away as it stung and say, 'It was just a slap, Ji. I don't need an ice pack.'

'I can't believe she put her hand on you.' Felix says, and you could see that he was furious.

'You guys, it's alright. I've seen worse. Besides, I'm just glad that it's all over.'

Felix just stroked your hair gently, kissing you slightly reddened cheek.

You look at Jisung and smile at him, then just as you were about to take off your ring, he stops you.

'Y/N. Please don't.' He said shaking his head.

You gave him a confused look, so does Felix.

'I bought that ring for you. It's not like Minho is gonna wear it even if you give it back.' Jisung said, looking at Minho for support.

Minho nodded with a smile and said, 'Yeah, keep it.'

You look at Felix who nods too.

'If that's what you want.' He says softly and you nod.

'Thank you, Ji.' You say and he steps forward to hug you.

'There you go.' Minho said with a grin and you push Jisung away and hug Minho next.

'You're obsessed, Minho. This is so unhealthy.' You state and this makes Felix and Jisung snigger.

'You're choking me, sweetheart, is that your thing?' Minho teased and you laugh. 'Choking?'

Only Jisung’s big boba eyes blinked repeatedly as he sniffed, not because he was crying, but because the poor little thing couldn’t even smell anything. He kept the half down of his face under the blankets of his bed, as he surely knew he was blushing due to you being in his room.

He hadn’t been expecting you, and he wanted to groan and put on a tantrum —or however you use that word in a sentence— because you had to be there at that moment.

“Aw, Sunggie,” you melted at the sight of him, holding back the need to coo and pet him and treat him the small and cute hamster he so was. “Lix called,” you clarified with a toothy grin. “He said you were sick, and buzzed me in before he left.”

Jisung made a note to himself to remember to tickle Felix to death for that.

There was one thing he wanted, and while it was you the one who could give it to him, he felt quite shy from asking, as far as refraining from doing so just yet.

Because it was not like you two were dating officially. Yes, the big, fat crush he had on you was as obvious as shit, to put it in elegant words, but he hadn’t asked you yet.

He was going to ask you, but he got sick.

And that one thing he wanted from you was your sweet pouty lips peppering kisses all over his face.

You sat next to him, and sheepishly shook your head. “Let me tidy up this place for you and bring you some medicine and more tissues, yeah?”

Your voice felt soothing, he wanted to use it as a blanket and stay wrapped in it for the rest of the week.

His heart sent more blood to his cheeks. As if there wasn’t enough, he thought with a huff, big eyes watching your movements as you picked a plate that had been left there since the night before and started picking up the used tissues from the floor.

“…hi…” Jisung mumbled, his voice hoarse and his throat dry.

Was he sick? Sure. I mean, his head hurt, his eyelids felt heavy, his nose was runny and he had surely filled the floor of his room and a decent part of his bed with used tissues.

But despite all that, the thing he wanted the most was to cuddle you to his hearts content.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you snickered softly, and he couldn’t help but smile with you. “Want some water too?”

He coughed in response, and you giggled. He cracked his knuckles underneath the bed sheet, his hands tingling, wanting to take you by your shoulders and hug you like a boa constrictor.

“Guess we have to cancel for tonight,” you mumbled with a small smile, your hand tenderly stroking his hair away from his forehead. “I’ll go leave my coat and bag in the living room and I’ll come back, yeah?”

He pouted without realizing. “Mmhhh…” he hummed with a small frown, almost like a whine.

You were about to mumble a soft ‘what’s wrong?’ before he shoved the covers away from his face as he gingerly raised his hand to grab your wrist and settled your palm back on his forehead. He sighed in small relief, melting into the coldness that lingered in you from being outside.

“Headache?” You said almost in a whisper, hearing the butterflies’ wings going crazy in your stomach.

He nodded. If he had been a cat, he would be purring, even if your hand had already turned warm against his skin.

“C’mon, Jisung-a,” your voice felt even softer than before. “I’ll come back before you know it.”

He sniffed. “…you will…?”

Your heart crushed, unable to handle how cute Han looked. It was too much, so much that even the butterflies in your stomach started to have their own butterflies in their stomachs.

And with a smile, you moved your hand to his cheek and planted a shy tender kiss on his forehead.

“I will. Pinky promise.” You chuckled softly, a blush slowly creeping up to your cheeks.

His eyes widened, and his heart skipped a beat.

Oh, no. Now he knew what one of your small kisses felt like.

Now you couldn’t leave. Not before… oh.

He grinned slyly, making you raise your eyebrows, wondering what could he be thinking in that cute little head of his.

“…we’ll… make a deal…” he stated as firmly as he could.

You shrugged lightly, secretly enjoying the faint pink hue of your lipstick that had stained his forehead.

“Sure, Hannie.” Your smile only made the fact that you’d leave for, like, ten minutes —or God, maybe even more— feel a lot worse.

“I… want… more of those…” he blushed deeply.

“More of those?”

He took your hand and covered his eyes with it.

“I want more kisses.” He sniffed again.

Your mouth quickly formed the shape of an ‘o’, as your blush quickly turned a deeper shade of red, as if to compete against his.

You giggled, moving your hand from his face.

“You want my kisses, jagi?” You teased with a smirk.

He felt his heart going crazy in him, a tight feeling in his chest that turned his ears red.

“Aww, but aren’t you too sick for that?”

Oh, no.

You weren’t just going to give him a small kiss and then not continue all morning and all evening… right?

That couldn’t be allowed. Was it? He tsked at the thought. He had to make sure it wasn’t.

He coughed, pouting.

“No.” He coughed again. “Me. Kisses.” He sniffed. “Now.”

You laughed loudly, a sort of laugh that went right in Han’s little heart and filled it up with energy. He didn’t feel that gloomy sensation that being sick could cast over someone.

Instead, he squinted at you playfully.

“You have ten minutes, missy.” He said, already looking much better, emotionally wise at least. “Or else.”

You giggled, sheepishly pecking the corner of his lips.

"You can set up a timer, you cheeky idiot."

He moved his hand to his heart in an overly dramatic gesture that made you cackle, as he chuckled too, trying to ignore how fast his heartbeat felt under his hand.

Nine minutes and forty three seconds later —forty four, forty five...— you had settled a plastic bag next to his nightstand, had stolen a tissue box from the living room, and right now, you were smiling, walking one step in front of the other, carefully so to not spill over the soup you had made for him.

"It's amazing. You have to try it, I've outdone myself." You chuckled as he sat up on his bed, gingerly waiting. You left the tray on his crossed legs, moving his desk chair and nonchalantly taking a seat close to him.

"C'mon." You snickered. "Eat up." He finished it without a single complaint.

"Good boy." You teased, cackling loudly when you saw him blush.

"That's not fair," he mumbled with a pout.

"Scooch aside, Mr fairness."

You moved the pillows and laid next to him, shyly putting your arm below his neck, and then passed the other over his chest.

His face was practically in front of you.

"Hi." You grinned cheekily.

"...oh, h-hi." You giggled at his shyness. You hid the fact that you had reapplied your lipstick in the kitchen before bringing the soup, and started peppering soft kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his nose, the corner of his mouth...

Oh, you were surely going to catch whatever he had.

[☆★🧣★☆]

No, he couldn’t say that, because then Chan would ask why that’s a problem and Changbin would have to tell him that he’s been in love with his best friend ever since the day you walked out of JYP Entertainment with your head held high to pursue your own, independent music career at a company that actually valued you – and how he never stopped being in stupid, pathetic puppy love with you. He would have to tell Chan that it was because of that stupid, pathetic puppy love that he sometimes dropped everything and abandoned Chan to his own devices. Because he couldn’t resist sinking into the couch in your warm, cozy apartment, far away from the rest of the world, your cute little socked feet pressing into his thighs, and sometimes when he's lucky, your bare, cold feet digging into his thighs seeking warmth, the TV on some random drama, sipping ciders and snacking on things and talking about everything and nothing until the early hours of the night.

If Changbin was lucky, that would be all that was needed to explain it to Chan, but Chan had always known him too well. He would be his usual, annoyingly perceptive self, and ask what else it was, force Changbin to spill his fucking guts until there was nothing left. And then, boy then he would have to look his leader in the face and admit that for all these years, every single time he flirted with Hyunjin ‘for the camera’, it wasn’t for the camera at all. It was actually a chance for him to be really selfish, to vent some of his very much not platonic, probably gay (bisexual?) feelings for his member, feelings that have been haunting him for the better part of two years.

And then, if Chan wasn’t distracted by the fact that Changbin just basically came out to him, would probably ask “both?” and Changbin would nod and Chan would ask something along the lines of “but what if one of them likes you back? Then what about your feelings for the others?” and Changbin would probably either run out or just start crying. Because he doesn’t know.

But ironically, it seems that neither will be an issue because he’s here, sitting across from you in your company’s cafeteria, willing his heart to start beating again.

“You … what?” he asks, dumbly.

“Hyunjin and I have been texting,” you repeat, seemingly nonchalant, but you’re not looking at him. He knows you well enough to know that this is you being nervous.

“Okay …” Changbin hears himself say, but even he can hear the trepidation in his voice.

“At first it was just about that portable watercolour set he talked about, and then we just kinda … kept talking. It’s nothing crazy, I just … thought I’d tell you, you know. Since he’s your friend.”

“Best friend,” Changbin mumbles, and you lift your head from the straw of your Americano that you’ve been jiggling around the ice in the cup with for the last five minutes. If it had been anyone else, Changbin would’ve told you to cut it out within 20 seconds. But you’re you.

You blink at him, laugh awkwardly.

“I thought that was me,” you joke. Changbin doesn’t laugh. You stare back at your coffee. Swirl the straw around the ice.

“He asked me to go to this art exhibit with him this weekend.”

Oh, good. You have common interests.

Changbin tries to will the bitterness away, but it only settles deeper into his chest with every one of your words.

“Apparently it’s this design exhibition, he said it would really match my vibe.”

Stupid fucking suave, charming, fucking PERFECT Hwang Hyunjin.

“Ha, that sounds fun.”

Changbin cringes. The bitterness in his voice is really fucking obvious.

“Does it?” you ask, eyeing him across the table, something unreadable in your face. He feels like you’re staring right into his soul.

“Didn’t think that was your kinda thing.”

Anything would be my thing if I was with you. Or if he asked me to go. Goddammit.

He shrugs.

“Maybe not, but it sounds like something you two would enjoy.”

Why the fuck would you say that, Seo Changbin.

You eye him suspiciously before you pick up your iced coffee again.

“I think so, too. And to be honest, I’d love to spend some more time with him, we really hit it off the other day.”

Changbin forces a smile onto his face.

“You did.”

It’s not a question, just a … confirmation? Changbin has long lost any idea of what he’s trying to do.

You swirl the ice around in your cup in silence for so long, Changbin nearly reaches out and rips the cup out of your hand, but then you say something that pulls the floor right out from under his feet.

“And I mean he’s obviously stupidly attractive …”

Changbin swears his eye twitches.

“He’s alright.”

Your head snaps up, eyebrows shooting up to your hairline. There’s an obnoxiously smug grin on your face.

“Sorry? You’re literally always gushing about him. Flirting with him for the fans. You’re like his biggest fan. President of the Hwang Hyunjin fan club. Ready to drop to your knees to ask for his hand in–“

“Alright, I get it!” Changbin interrupts you, too fast, too loud. Some people in the cafeteria turn to look his way, disapproval written all over their faces.

You don’t care about them. You’re just sitting opposite him, giggling. “So, do you think that’s what this is? That he’s asking you on a date?” Changbin asks, tries his best to keep his voice down.

You shrug, seemingly nonchalantly, but there is a dusting of a blush on your cheeks. It suits you so well. The fact that it’s for Hwang Hyunjin makes Changbin want to do something drastic.

“I don’t know. I’ll just see how it goes. Go in with no expectations. But if it ends up being one … I wouldn’t complain.”

Changbin swallows down a hysterical scream.

A few beats of awkward silence stretch between you before you get up, and nearly knock your coffee over in the process. Changbin’s hand shoots out on instinct, but you manage to catch it just in time, your hands meeting on the cold, wet plastic. You stay suspended, in that moment, for a second before you shake it off.

“I gotta go back to work, they’re probably waiting for me in the studio.”

Changbin rises. His body feels two sizes too large, his brain a foggy mess.

“We still on for tonight?” he asks. Movie night. At his dorm. He doesn’t know if he wants you to say yes, so he can see you again because, god, it’s the highlight of his fucking week, or no, because he doesn’t know how he can sit next two you for several hours while Hyunjin’s contact is in your phone, and you’re probably flirting with him and sending him winky faces and hearts and those witty little innuendos you’re so good at and–

“Yeah, for sure. I really wanna see that movie, and I really wanna see if it works, to point your projector at the ceiling. It sounds magical.”

Changbin smiles, somehow. Walks with you to the exit of the cafeteria. Folds you into a hug that makes his heart sing in his chest, breathing in your smell from your hair, feeling your fingers dig into the meat of his shoulders. The phantom of it accompanies him past the front desk, all the way out into the street and down the few blocks he has to walk back to JYPE.

When he walks into the studio, Jisung is asleep on the couch, wrapped in his big puffer jacket, snoring quietly. Chan swivels around to him, takes one look at him and furrows his brows.

“How’s Y/N? Is everything okay?”

I love her, Chan. I love her, and she’s going on a date with Hyunjin.

“She’s fine. Going to the museum with Hyunjin this weekend.”

Chan freezes, blinks at him once, twice.

“Uhh … she is?”

Changbin drops into the chair next to Chan, busies himself studying the waveforms of the song Chan has pulled up. He makes a casual sound.

“Like … like a date?”

Changbin wants to scream. He swallows it. Shrugs. Pretends he doesn’t care.

But Chan’s confused, concerned gaze keeps returning to him, boring into the side of Changbin’s head until Changbin can’t stand it any more.

“So, did you figure out the pre-chorus?” he asks, a little more forcefully than he has to, but Chan gets the memo. He only sighs before he turns to the computer and shows him what he worked on. But his brain doesn’t allow him any such mercy. Every time he gets distracted for a few minutes, gets lost in figuring out how to make a line of his rap flow better, or finds the perfect little percussion to add to a track, it only takes a few minutes, like clockwork, before the thoughts come back.

Falling in love with you had been as easy as breathing.

He didn’t plan on it, god no, if anything, he didn’t want to fall in love with you. Or anyone for that matter. He just joined the company, too young, ripped from anything and anyone he’s ever known on a mad chase for some bigger dream that he didn’t know if he would ever achieve. He met you a week in, and you immediately clicked. Not in a way that made sparks fly or his heart race, no, quite the opposite. You just slotted yourself into his life like you were always meant to be there. Like there had always been a hole where you belonged until you filled it.

He didn’t know anyone, and you weren’t the most outgoing, so it was easy for you to seek each other out during breaks, during mixed dance practice, after gruelling days of evaluations to eat chicken in secret and cry about how fucking cruel everything was until you somehow managed to laugh again.

And even as the months went on and you both settled in, found your footing in this new world you were dropped into, and found more friends among the other trainees, nobody ever could come between you. Like you found each other and mutually decided to never let go again.

He didn’t fall in love with you right then, neither could he blame anything on the hormones because the two of you never went there. And it’s not like you were the only girl around, far from it. And trainees were hooking up left and right. Even he got roped into a one-night stand here and there and one very messy love triangle situation at some point, but you never went there with each other. When you hooked up with Chan at the company party one year, right after the latter joined, Changbin chalked up his discomfort to the fact that he and Chan and Jisung were starting to make music together, and he didn’t want any potential drama between you and Chan to get in the way of that.

As things for Changbin started going better and better, as him, Chan and Jisung really found their footing as 3Racha, making music and gaining so much respect from the other trainees and from all the managers and teachers, everything started falling apart for you. You were overlooked for several groups, dismissed for your talents. And Changbin tried to be there for you, but you must’ve felt it, too. The distance between where you were and where he was, where you wanted to be, grew too big. So before long, you stopped confiding in him. Stopped letting him see your tears, only the remnants of them in your bloodshot eyes the next morning. And he felt awful about it.

But then you did the unthinkable. Something he’d never seen anyone do. You walked out.

And it wasn’t just that you quit, no, you went out with a bang. A screaming match in a meeting room right down the hall from the dance practice room where everyone was gathered for evaluations, then a slam of the door and you, stalking down the hallway, with your head held high.

Changbin followed you, watched stupidly as you raged, emptied your locker, stuffed everything into a big plastic bag. He didn’t even say goodbye, frozen in place, suddenly hyper aware of two things.

One, his best friend was leaving, leaving him behind in the lion’s den, and he had no idea how he would manage it all on his own. The thought of not being with you made him sick to his stomach. He wanted to be with you, always, in every single way.

Because, and that was the second thing he realised as he watched you walk away from him, he was in love with you.

He didn’t hear from you for three weeks, three weeks he spent distracted and irritable and so, so sad and experiencing what Chan had to tell him was a broken heart. How should he have known?! He had never been in love before.

He was still reeling when he met Hyunjin. Gorgeous, tall, ethereal Hyunjin, who danced like his body was made for it, who had the cutest, dimpled smile that lit up Changbin’s whole body with fireworks when he aimed it at him.

And Changbin suddenly had to deal with the knowledge that he might be bisexual.

You texted him for the first time a month and a half after you walked out. You apologised for disappearing on him, citing your own bitterness, how you couldn’t face him while his life was so clearly headed for the stars and yours was so uncertain. But there was something else in your voice, too. You told him you were with a new company now, and if he wanted to hang out. Like old times. You phrased it like a question.

You met at your favourite sushi restaurant, not far from JYPE. You told him about your new company, about their plans for your solo career. And Changbin told you about Hyunjin. He didn’t say that he was in love with him in so many words, but in retrospect, he always knew that you knew. And, of course, you accepted him. And just like that, you were friends again.

Changbin figured he would grow out of his crush on Hyunjin, out of his unrequited love for his best friend, but that day never came. And slowly, Changbin accepted that this was just how things were going to be. At least until his worlds collided, and he introduced you to each other.

He carries his bitter thoughts around with him, hiding them, as best as he can, all day. Through work, dinner with Chan and Jisung in the studio. Through a quick gym session and into the shower, where he stays for way too long, letting the boiling water scorch his skin until it’s red.

Maybe it’s not a date! With the way you were stealing glances at Hyunjin? The way Hyunjin always served you first? Asked you so many questions about your career? Got excited when you said you liked art?? Two beautiful, single people with common interests don’t meet and stay friends. Not when they’re Y/N Y/L/N and Hwang Hyunjin.

Maybe it’s not so bad! But it is. What is he going to do? Will he have to go to your wedding? Organise your stag do? Can he be trusted not to turn into the worst kind of person and get horrendously drunk and try to kiss you before it’s too late? Will he even be friends with you still when your wedding day comes? Maybe he manages to fuck it all up way before then.

Maybe it won’t work out between them! That’s not any better. The thought of his two best friends heartbroken about each other, avoiding each other when they inevitably have to meet again … Having a lapful of either of them, upset about someone else? God, no. And it’s not like it changes anything about the fact that Changbin is hopelessly in love with you both. Though the status quo, him, pining secretly, quietly, seems likely to be the best thing he’s ever going to get.

No, it won’t do. He’s stuck. He’s stuck and doomed to sit here, with his hands tied, to watch whatever it is that’s happening between you and Hyunjin unfold, from the sidelines. It makes his skin itch.

By the time you text him that you’re outside, asking him to buzz you in, he actually considers making something up about not feeling well, about being held back at the company, anything … But he’s always been weak for you. So he lets you in.

The moment you turn the corner of the hall and see him, a wide smile lights up your face and Changbin can’t help it, his whole body relaxes a little, the warmth of your presence melting some of the pressure of his shoulders. And then you skip the last few steps to make it to him and fling yourself into his hug, and he holds you tight and thinks that maybe this is enough. Maybe he’ll be alright as long as he can have this.

It’s casual, familiar, the way he invites you in without a word, the way you know where to put your shoes, where to pull out the guest house slippers, and immediately pick the pink ones you always use. For a brief moment, Changbin wonders if a few months down the line you will be doing all of this when you visit Hyunjin. If it will be him, then, watching you go through these motions, before he gets to lead you to his room and kiss you and touch you however he wants to and know he can have you for the rest of his life.

“Where is everyone?” you ask as you walk into the kitchen, set down the convenience store bag Changbin hadn’t even noticed was dangling off your wrist.

Changbin shrugs.

“Chan and Jisung are still at the studio, and probably will be for a while. They looked like they were getting into one of their zones when I left.”

You give him an adorable, playful smile.

“Aw, you skipped out on one of your intense 3racha studio nights for me? Why do I actually feel flattered?”

Changbin forces a smile. Silly you, I would do anything for you. He shrugs.

“Wasn’t feeling it today. Plus, I wanted to hit the gym.”

You nod absentmindedly, stare at the convenience store bag for a second, before you speak again.

“… and Hyunjin?” you ask without looking at him. Daggers. A hundred daggers to his chest. He clears his throat, tries to sound as casual as he possibly can.

“Honestly, no idea where he is, I haven’t seen him since I got home, so I guess he’s out somewhere.”

You hum, nod, then busy yourself with rooting around the bag.

“So I got us a bunch of savoury snacks, since I know you like those better,” you say, your voice back to being upbeat. Changbin does his best to catch up with his heart still aching. “But I also got some sweet ones.”

You lift up some Chocosongi with a smile and Changbin forces a smile back.

It hurts, how simple it all is. How easily you slip into habit. How normal it feels for him to hand you a pair of his sweatpants to change into in the bathroom, to unpack the snacks while you’re changing, dig up the projector from the bottom of his backpack, pile up the pillows on his bed until they are at the perfect fluffiness. How sweet you look when you skip back into the room and collapse on his bed, on your dedicated side, curling up on your side, pretending to go to sleep, with a devastating little fake snore, because “your bed is way too cozy, Bin.”

It hurts, but he smiles, because how could he not. He plays along, exclaims a soft “Yah! you wanted to see this movie!” and turns off some of the lights until the whole room is bathed only in the soft warm glow of the lamp on his bedside table, ignores the ache and settles in next to you.

He remains on his back as he fiddles with the projector, and once he’s got it on and connected to his phone, he sets it on the sheets between you, and you squeal with pure delight. It looks great, even he has to admit, the size of the movie just right, the colours vivid but soft against the white of his ceiling, the warm glow of light in his room making it look nothing short of magical.

Changbin wishes he could turn and see it reflected in your face, your eyes probably sparkling with it, but he doesn’t trust himself not to break down crying or say something he might regret. So instead, he just clicks up the volume another notch, takes the opened bag of chips you offer him, and settles back.

He hadn’t realised just how exhausted he was, but lying here, the pillows, the duvet, so soft and inviting underneath him, your warm body next to him, calmly rising and falling with every breath, not really touching much, but still comfortingly there, your socked foot pressed against his calf, the back of your hand resting against his shoulder where it’s curled under your cheek, brushing against him every time you reach for one of the little chocolate mushrooms … the exhaustion sinks into his bones and makes him melt into it. The movie, its music and dialogue coming through the speaker of his phone between you, the taste of the salty snacks on his tongue, your soft voice when you give your commentary on something that’s happening. How the sheets rustle when you move to reach for another little chocolate mushroom. He can smell you, your perfume like a soothing balm on his nerves, and he wishes he could freeze time and just stay here, with you, like this, forever.

He’s almost dozing off when you mumble something and Changbin turns his head to you without thinking and suddenly, you’re face to face on his pillow, your nose only a bare few centimetres from his. Changbin is suddenly wide awake and he holds his breath.

And you … do, too. You suck in a breath, eyes wide, blinking rapidly, gaze dipping down to his lips. There’s so much softness in it, softness that Changbin never thought he would get to see directed at him. That and … fear?

“Bin,” you mumble, absentminded, like you’re just saying his name to see what it will taste like. Your warm breath, sweet and chocolatey, fans against his lips, and he watches, frozen, entirely helpless, as you carefully tip your face forwards and press your lips to his.

Any thought he could’ve had evaporates the moment you kiss him. His eyes flutter shut readily, and he gasps into your lips in a way he’s sure he would be embarrassed by, if he had his wits about him. It’s a soft kiss, just a touch of your lips to his, then another even lighter one. Only when you hesitate, make as if to pull back, he realises he didn’t kiss you back. His hand shoots out, cradles around the soft expanse of your cheek, your jaw, and he pulls you back in because if this is all he’s ever allowed to have, he needs you to at least feel how much he wants you.

And he kisses you now. Properly. Presses his lips against yours firmly, but gently, tasting every ridge of them, greedily breathing in the dizzying scent of your skin where his nose is pressed into the soft skin of your cheek.

It’s like every single one of his daydreams, but better. Because when your lips open up for him, you taste real, the chocolate on yours mixing with the salt on his own tongue to create an intoxicating balance and underneath it all, he can taste something he knows, is undeniably the taste of you.

This time, neither of you pull back. It’s like the floodgates have opened and Changbin’s desire has finally been unleashed and there’s no stopping it now. Pandora’s box is open, and it’s all right there. Halfheartedly, he tries to keep his hope locked away, but his desire is free, trembles through him with every swipe of your tongue until you’re panting, gasping into each other’s lips with every wet slide of your mouths.

Changbin’s tongue is hungry, but his shaking hands hover helplessly, one still cradled around the side of your face, the other resting on his own stomach, itching to reach out but … he’s not sure how much he’s allowed. He doesn’t want to overstep, to make you uncomfortable, but then, as if you can read his mind, you scoot closer, so eagerly you knock over the projectors, fist your hand into the material of his t-shirt at his waist to pull him closer and Changbin’s entire brain short-circuits. He needs more.

Parting his lips from yours is a superhuman feat, but he does so, only enough to be able to blearily reach between you and get the damn projector and his phone out of the way, locking his phone, shutting off the movie in the process, and blindly shoving both it and the projector onto his nightstand. His phone thuds onto the carpet, but he doesn’t care, because you’re pouncing on him again as soon he turns back, pulling him against you with greedy hands until he can feel every inch of your warm body pressed against his, every arch of your back, slide of your foot against his calf.

In the silence of the room, without the movie playing in the background, Changbin can hear the slick slide of your tongues, every single hitch of your breath and all of it is so much, entirely too much almost in a way that is addicting.

And he doesn’t know if he’s crazy, but somehow, you’re still here, kissing him, trying to press even closer, as if it was possible, making the prettiest sound into Changbin’s mouth, until you throw your leg over his hips and grind forward and Changbin moans, pathetically. He’s hard. Embarrassingly so. Pulsing and aching, probably leaking into his underwear, and you seem to like it, because you grind (what Changbin can hardly think about without losing his damn mind) your clothed pussy down harder and moan right back.

You want this.

The thought drowns him, and he finally stops resisting, flips himself until he’s almost on top of you, dragging his palm down until he can grab your ass and grind you over his cock and oh, fuck.

You whimper, your mouth momentarily going slack against his, allowing him to suck your bottom lip between his own, drawing another perfect little mewl from you. Your hips twitch, make an aborted little move, chasing the friction of Changbin’s body, and he doesn’t have to be told twice. He ruts forward, uses his strength to grind you to meet him over and over again, and it feels so good, makes pleasure pool in Changbin’s abdomen at an alarming rate, his mind going fuzzy with the chase of his orgasm.

But before he loses himself, in a moment of lucidity, that he has no idea where it came from, he pulls back.

Which he almost immediately regrets, because you’re staring up at him, chest heaving, face flushed and dewy, lips shiny and swollen, your gaze so glassy and filled with so much trust, it makes reality crash over him.

“Y/Nie … baby …” he mumbles, and you must’ve heard something in his voice because panic flashes over your face, and you shake your head.

“N-no, Binnie, please,” you whisper, shaky hands reaching out, trying to pull him in again, “I need you.”

Changbin doesn’t know how he resists the gentle demands of your fingertips, how he pulls away another few inches before you make a sound that is so heartbreaking it keeps him frozen in place.

“Y/Nie I can’t …” he starts, but words fail him. What was he going to say? Tell you not to go out with Hyunjin? Tell you he loved him? That he loved you? Tell you, right here, right now? You deserved better than that.

You blink, blink again, and suddenly water is gathering at your lash line.

“It’s okay, Binnie, it doesn’t have to mean anything,” you beg, and the words feel like a slap in the face. “Just … just please, kiss me, touch me, fuck me. I need you. Please. Just … just this once, we can never talk about it again.”

Changbin should walk away. He knows it. He should get up, put some distance between you, save himself a lot of heartache and you the embarrassment of having to break your best friend’s heart.

But …

But this might be your last chance a selfish, petty part of him pipes up.

He doesn’t know how he is going to live with just this one time. How he’ll go for the rest of his days knowing what your body tastes like without ever getting to have it again, but he’ll learn. It can’t be worse than the heartache of never knowing.

When he dips back down, presses his lips against yours, you sigh in relief.

Your hands are everywhere – buried in his hair, running down his arms, tugging at the waistband of his sweats, slipping under his hoodie, colder fingers against heated skin, eagerly trying to feel more and more of him until you seemingly have enough. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and you pull, and the sting of it sends a shiver down his spine.

With a surprising amount of strength (though not enough to move him, was he not so ridiculously down bad and pliant for you) you push at him until his back hits the mattress. You swing your leg over his hips and, with a single-minded determination in your eyes, sit yourself right on his cock, making him gasp out your name, before you shove your fingers back under his shirt, rucking it up until he half sits up and lets you pull it off him.

And yeah, he feels exposed like this. Shirtless, underneath you, at your mercy, pressed against the sheets, his belly probably a little softer than usual because he’s been bulking.

But the way you stare at him, rake your eyes over his torso, the way your fingertips trace his skin, the way you bite your lip when goosebumps follow in their wake – he forgets to be self-conscious. Because, yes, you want him, and you’re not holding back an ounce of your admiration, but also, it’s you. He’s never felt as safe with anyone as he has felt with you.

You lean down and kiss him, a lot sweeter now, though still demanding, your palms smoothing over his pecs, up to his shoulder, over his bare arms, like you’re trying to feel every inch of his exposed skin. It makes him feel dizzy.

You pull back and stare at him, breathing heavily, your sparkling eyes so close to his that the barely contained I love you nearly slips past his lips.

“C-can I suck you off?” you whisper, and Changbin briefly wonders if he’s going to survive this.

He lets a tentative hand travel up your arm until he can smooth your hair out of your face. You blink, lean into his touch, and your breath hitches. He burns.

You’re still staring at him, waiting for the answer to your question, and he breathes out a shaky laugh. Instead of answering, he, as carefully as he can, flips you back underneath him. But now the way you’re staring up at him is even worse for his heart.

“I’m going to bust so fast if you do that,” he confesses and watches you giggle, “maybe next time.”

Next time?

He wants to slap himself.

You blink at him, something unreadable in your eyes, and then you nod.

“Next time,” you whisper, sadly, wrap your hand around his neck and pull him down. It’s the sweetest kiss yet, something in it that Changbin can’t place, that makes his heart thud heavily in his chest.

One of your legs wraps around his waist and pulls him down, his cock grinding down right where you need it, and it makes a heavy moan rumble out from deep in your chest. The kiss turns heavier and wetter until Changbin has to come up for air. He keeps his eyes closed, presses wet kisses down your cheek, your jaw, until he hits the neckline of your shirt.

He pulls back, forces himself to breathe, to slow down, to look into your eyes even though it hurts.

“Do you want this? We can stop …” he mumbles. He’s ready — ready to accept this is all he gets, ready to ignore his heart burning a hole in his chest with the inhuman need to slip you out of these clothes and worship every inch of your body. But one word from you, a single shred of doubt in your eyes, and he would stop.

But you shake your head, your face so vulnerable it makes him want to wrap you up in his arms and keep you safe, here, for the rest of your life.

“I want this, I really do,” you whisper, and then, brokenly, you make Changbin’s world spin out of control. “I’ve wanted you for a long time.”

The words hurt like a knife, because he knows you don’t mean them the way he does.

He doesn’t respond, instead kisses you again, tries to drown everything he can’t say in the rapture that is your lips. He lets his hand wander over the legs he’s been dreaming about, legs wrapped in his sweatpants, wrapped around his hips. He slides his palms up, until he can slip it underneath your shirt and ruck it up and off and tries his best not to lose his head when you’re bared to him and then again when he unclips your bra, mercifully with little to no fumbling, and your nipples and soft skin of your tits and your belly are pressed against his own.

You sigh into him, fingernails digging into his bicep so hard he shudders. He hopes it will leave a mark.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” he whispers. He keeps his eyes closed, unable to face the effect his words may have.

“Touch me, Binnie,” you whisper back, and he shudders again. The way you say his name makes his body thrum with need.

“I will,” he finds himself mumbling, pressing a wet kiss to your jaw, “I will, angel, I’ll make you feel good.”

And with no further hesitation he sits up, places his shaking hands on your hips, thumbs smoothing over the skin right over your waistband.

He’s thought about this a lot, he’s ashamed to admit, but nothing comes close to you right in front of him because — you’re perfect. More perfect than he could have ever imagined, because now he can see all the little birthmarks, all the tiny scars and the light lines of stretch marks, and he tries to drink it all in, tries to catalogue every single thing so he can conjure them up in all his worst fantasies for the rest of his life.

But maybe he took a little bit too long because you’re saying his name again, in that small, vulnerable voice and every single inch of his body is consumed with the need to please you.

So he pulls at your waistband, slowly pulls it down, leaning in until he can press his lips against the skin of your tits, swirl his tongue over your gorgeous, hard nipples, before he goes down, down, over the softness of your belly, your hips, then down your thighs as he tries not to lose his goddamn mind.

Because he can smell you now. You, the smell of your skin, remnants of your shower gel and the lotion you rub in after, but also your arousal, the sweet tang of it coating his tastebuds already before he has even gotten the chance to get his mouth on you.

He slides one leg, then the other out of his sweats, and you let him, one arm slung over your face in overwhelm, making a pretty little noise when they’re all the way off, and you’re naked in front of him.

Changbin can’t resist it. He lets his eyes roam over you as he tentatively palms his rock-hard cock over his own sweats, and pleasure rolls heavy through his whole body.

“Oh, pretty,” he sighs. It just slips out. You whimper, breathe out his name. One of his palms slides up your calf.

“Can I, pretty? Can I touch you?”

You breathe out an airy chuckle that Changbin thinks for a moment feels almost a little sad, before you nod.

“Of course, Binnie, of course you can. Please touch me.”

It’s all he needs.

He lets his palm slide further up your leg, up to your thigh, you part your legs for him effortlessly, offer yourself to him. He lowers himself onto the mattress slowly, eyes glued to where you’re glistening and quivering and smelling so divine his mouth is watering, before he leans in and laves his tongue gently over your clit a couple times, easing you into it.

Your taste sears itself into his taste buds, sweet, tangy, intoxicating, and he wants more, wants to fucking drown in it, in you, and he leans in and attaches his lips to your core, darts his tongue out, laves at your pretty little hole, dips into the wet heat of it, before travelling back up, slick smearing all over his chin as he sucks your clit between his lips.

He’s being messy, and he knows it, his fingers digging into your skin probably a little too deep for comfort, but you’re not complaining, no, of course not, you’re perfect, one of your hands cards through his hair, the other arm thrown over your face as you make the sexiest breathless little noises that almost sound like sobs, and you take it all, every single thing Changbin has to give you.

Your thighs tremble in his hands, your hips stuttering upwards in aborted little movements, your little moans growing in volume, one of your ankles digging into his back and, nonetheless, when you come, whole body shivering, chanting his name, spurting the sweetest sweetness he has ever tasted right into his mouth, it takes him by surprise. He didn’t expect you to come for him so easily, so effortlessly, but you don’t seem to be holding back.

Changbin laps at your release, licks it up and swallows it down while he can before you gently push him away, trembling with the oversensitivity. Your eyes are lidded, your hair a mess and there’s a wet stain on his sheets right underneath your hips, and Changbin can’t believe he gets to see you like this, let alone the fact that he did this to you.

You sit up, gloriously naked and unbelievably beautiful, and reach for him, soft fingers curling around the back of his neck, pulling him forwards until your lips are on his again, and it feels like coming home, sends warm shivers down his spine. He sighs into your lips, and you sigh back, dragging him back down to the mattress with you, skin against skin again, his chest moulding against yours like they were made for each other. He could stay here forever just kissing you, but there’s a fire in his abdomen, a hard, insistent pressure against your body, and your fingers slip under his waistband.

You tuck his sweats and underwear down quickly, one hand still curled around his neck and slipping into his hair, the other shoving at the offending fabric until you can’t reach any more and use your feet to shuck them the rest of the way off — something Changbin shouldn’t find as hot as he does, though he is mightily distracted by the way your tongue is licking against his, the way you’re tugging at his hair, dragging him this way and that into the kiss, making his brain go fuzzy.

When your hand curls around his cock, he physically jolts, his body more sensitive than it’s ever been. He wants to say something, anything, self-consciousness curling in his belly, something about how he knows he isn’t too big, but you don’t give him the chance.

Your hand tightens on him, and he keens, and you whisper a breathless, appreciative fuck into the tight space between you. Wordlessly, with your heels digging into his lower back, you pull him closer, until his lips are back on yours and his cock is pressed against your entrance, and it doesn’t take any convincing for him to follow where you’re leading him and press inside. His moan collides with yours when he bottoms out, your back arching into his arms, and he holds you closer, noses against your jaw, trying to ground himself.

It’s unreal, the feeling of you. Hot, tight, velvety, wet, you. He’s inside of you. His cock throbs and his breath stutters out of him, and somehow you’re right there with him, your fingers shaking as one of your hands anchors itself back into his hair and drags him close.

He doesn’t know how he manages to start moving but when he does, it’s unlike anything he’s ever felt. He grinds forward, buries himself as far as he will go, and you follow him, open your mouth into a gasp, and when he pulls back you chase him, smear your lips against his. Your bodies moving together, sweat slick skin sliding against sweat slick skin, hot breath mingling until he forgets where he ends and you begin. It’s so intimate it makes him feel insane, utterly out of his mind with how overwhelmingly good it is.

He fucks forward harder, and he is rewarded with a gorgeous moan, punched out of you at the same time as his headboard smacks against the wall, and he says a quiet thanks to whoever’s listening that they’re alone in the dorm, because he can do it again, draw another moan out of you.

“B-binnie,” you mewl, and his arms nearly give out. He vaguely registers himself making a shaky, helpless little noise in response. “So … fuck … good … harder.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice, his body responding as if it’s an entity entirely separate from his reason, only focused on giving you what you need. He plants his palm against the headboard for leverage and fucks you harder, lets himself go, his own moans colliding with yours between your heated lips, deafeningly loud in the previously quiet room, now resounding with the sound of his hips slamming into yours, the wet slide of your pussy as it swallows his cock, the headboard thunking against the wall – it’s filthy, but it’s like music to him. You’re the best he’s ever had.

You whimper into his lips, drag him in for another kiss, scrape your fingernails over his bicep and heat curls dangerously, deep in his guts, a kind of barbed wire pleasure, building and building. And no matter how much he wishes this could last forever, he knows he won’t last much longer.

He drags his hand from the headboard, down your body, shoves it between your bodies, unwilling to part more than he has to. When he reaches between your legs, where his cock is pumping in and out of you, it’s soaked, and he moans out pathetically. With the first touch of his fingers against your clit, you throw your head back, eyebrows knitted together, lips parted in a beautiful little o and Changbin dives down, peppers kisses all over your jaw and down your neck. He can taste your skin, salty from the sweat, bitter from your perfume, sweet in all the other ways.

Your legs wind around his waist, and it changes the angle, makes his cock drag against your walls just right to make him shudder, and you gush around him, and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, trying to hold on.

“P-please,” you sob out, “d-don’t stop … ‘m so close …”

As if he would, Changbin thinks. His fingers are sliding over your clit, and he pumps his hips forward, lets himself chase his own pleasure, just a little bit, and you’re clenching tighter and tighter and then …

You come with a choked moan of his name, walls locking around him, pulsing and fluttering, and it’s almost too much, the knowledge of it, of you underneath him, letting him take you apart like this, trusting him with your body, your pleasure.

With the last, tattered remnant of his reason, he pulls out, wraps his hand around his slick cock and pumps furiously only for a second before pleasure explodes through his body, and he comes in ropes and ropes, all over your belly, the pleasure zinging through his veins so strong it almost knocks him out, if it weren’t for your grounding fingers carding through his hair.

It’s everything he’s ever wanted. It’s entirely wrong.

He shudders through the last dregs of his orgasm, a bead of sweat rolling down the slope of his nose before it drops onto the pillow next to your head. If he breathes in, he knows he’ll smell the combined smell of you and him in your hair.

He pulls back quickly, but is stopped by the opposing force of your hand on his neck, and he realises a beat too late that you were trying to pull him closer. But the damage is done. Your face falls, your hands dropping to the mattress on either side of you. You turn your head as you wait for Changbin to pull out, to climb off you. And in his stupor, in the turmoil of heartache and confusion in his heart, he does.

You look fragile like that, head pillowed on his sheets, knees knocking together as you try to hide, his cum beaded all over your pretty belly.

“I’ll get you a towel, okay?” he mumbles, trying to be as gentle as he can, but it can’t contend with the awkwardness that’s hanging thickly in the air.

He somehow manages to pull on his boxers, stumbles from the room, into the bathroom; he catches a glance of himself in the mirror, his face pale, his eyes wide and scared, and nearly loses his head. In and out, he tells himself. You can’t lose it now, you’ve got to take care of her. No matter what, you’ve got to take care of her.

Eyes glued to his hands, to the sink, he fishes out one of the hand towels under the sink, wrenches the tap to the hottest setting it will go, willing it to heat up faster. He needs to get back to you. He needs to fix this.

As soon as the water is lukewarm, he drenches the towel, squeezes it out and just about resists the urge to run back to his room. But as soon as he steps in and meets your eyes and dread almost overwhelms him. Everything is so wrong.

He approaches the bed, and he can see his own hesitation mirrored in your face, mirrored in the cold hard hurt shivering across your face. He’s frozen with helplessness, unable to figure out what to do, how to fix this thing he’s broken.

You pull the towel out of his numb fingers where he’s standing next to you without moving and start cleaning yourself up, wiping at the sticky residue of his cum, until you’re clean, hurriedly dropping the towel onto the bed next to you and swinging your legs over the side.

“Uh … I should get going,” you mumble, as you awkwardly step around him where he’s still rooted to the spot next to the bed. Only when you’re dressed, does he dare to turn around.

When your eyes meet, it punches the rest of his confidence out of him. You blink and make to turn around, but Changbin takes a step forward, catches your wrist in his hands, holds you back with a desperation that he’s unable to mask.

“Y/N …” he mumbles, his voice hoarse with emotion. You stop easily, let yourself get pulled back to him, just like that. His heart throbs.

“We’re okay, right?” There’s a beat of silence, then you soften, just a little. You nod, and he lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Yeah,” you breathe, “of course we’re okay.”

What washes through him isn’t relief, but it’s something. Maybe hope that he hasn’t irrevocably fucked everything up. He needs you, needs you with him, in his life, however he is allowed to have you. He can’t do this without you. He never could.

He gives your wrist the smallest, gentlest tug – just a suggestion. You step forward and right into his waiting arms.

He folds you against his bare chest, breathes out a shaky breath. He can feel your breath against his collarbone, the softness of your cheek against his shoulders. The comforting weight of you against him. You’re okay. You’ll be okay. He doesn’t know if it’s true. He has to believe it.

It’s only a few moments before you pull back, barely looking at him.

“I still … I’m gonna go …” you mumble, and he nods.

He follows you to the door, uselessly. Watches as you pull on your shoes, carelessly leave the house slippers out, something you never do. You always put them back.

With one last shaky smile, you pull the door shut behind you and Changbin is left behind in the dead silence of the empty dorm to deal with the aftermath.

He manages to make it back to his room before the first sob racks through him, his chest constricting painfully until he can barely breathe. Through his blurry eyes, he rips the sheets off his bed, a button pinging off the pillow case, but he can’t care. He doesn’t bother putting new sheets on, only crawls into bed. And he cries.

And because he really does seem to be the punchline of some cosmic joke, the first person he sees when he stumbles into the kitchen the next morning, is Hyunjin.

He looks up when Changbin walks in, and he freezes, before he turns sharply.

Changbin didn’t even bother looking in the mirror before stumbling out of his room on a desperate hunt for a cup of coffee that would cure his pounding head. He knows he probably doesn’t look dewy fresh and his eyes are probably swollen, but Hyunjin’s reaction nonetheless makes him falter. He hesitates in the doorway.

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, only keeps his back to him, hands aimlessly fiddling with the coffee machine, pulling out the drip tray, emptying it into the sink even though it’s barely half full, then shoving it back into the machine. It catches on something and there’s a sickening crunching sound that startles him. He pulls it back out and shoves it back in, a little softer this time, though Changbin can see it now. His hands are shaking.

Hyunjin turns abruptly, makes for the door, but then realises Changbin is right there, blocking it, and stops.

A beat passes where Changbin can finally see Hyunjin’s eyes, and he can’t read them at all. He looks … vaguely annoyed. Confused. Upset? Why?

Chan’s door opens and his voice travels down the hallway.

“Yo, is the coffee machine still on?”

Hyunjin opens his mouth, though his answering yes takes a long moment to come out. It only makes its way past his lips when Chan is already pushing past Changbin and into the kitchen.

When Chan’s eyes fall on Changbin, he hesitates, eyebrows knitting together in worry.

“Woah, Bin, you alright? You look rough.”

Changbin drags his eyes away from Hyunjin’s, forces a smile onto his face.

“Yeah, just didn’t sleep well,” he croaks out, and Chan nods understandingly, gives him a pat on the shoulder.

“Did you and Y/N watch something scary again even though neither of you like horror?” he chuckles, as he makes his way to the coffee machine, past Hyunjin who’s now fiddling with his phone, leaning against the counter next to the sink.

Changbin murmurs something to the negative, his heart aching somewhere deep in his chest at the mention of you. Ah, remember when things were normal, he thinks. How they could’ve remained normal, if he hadn’t been so fucking stupid and ruined everything …

“By the way, Jinnie,” Chan asks, slides his stupidly large to go cup under the spout, and presses the button, “did my package arrive last night?”

The coffee machine screams to life, and it makes Changbin’s ears ring.

“W-what? Package?” Hyunjin asks, when the noise stops, shifting his weight from one foot to the other uneasily.

Chan nods.

“It was meant to come yesterday and I figured, since you and Bin were both home, but he was watching a movie with Y/N, maybe you would hear the door? You were home last night, weren’t you?”

Changbin prays. He prays to whatever deity is out there that Hyunjin doesn’t say yes, tells Chan no, he was out, at the other dorm, hanging out with Jeongin or Seungmin or …

“I was,” Hyunjin says quietly, “but I didn’t … hear the door. I was painting.”

Chan nods and pulls out his phone.

Changbin is frozen in place, staring at Hyunjin, who avoids his eyes. If he was home, then he heard. He must have, right? There was no way …

“Ah, typical,” Chan exclaims, makes both Changbin and Hyunjin jump, “it got delayed. It’ll be delivered this afternoon when we have dance practice. Oh well, I’ll let the doorman know. Thanks though!”

He slides the lid onto his to go cup and makes for the door.

“You ready to go, Bin? We have a meeting with the mixing agent in 40.”

Changbin has never been more grateful for an excuse to get the fuck away from Hyunjin for a few hours.

“Y-yeah, just … need a quick shower,” he mumbles, and Chan nods, already walking down the hallway.

"Make it a quick one, I’ll wake Jisung."

Changbin flees from the kitchen without looking back. He thinks he doesn’t breathe until the bathroom lock clicks shut behind him.

Hyunjin heard. Hyunjin heard. It’s … bad. It’s confusing. Most of all, it’s humiliating.

He strips as quickly as he can, faster still when he drags his shirt over his head, and he catches a whiff of your perfume, and it nearly makes him nauseous. He steps in the shower and turns it all the way to cold.

What’s humiliating is not the sex, no, god, it couldn’t have been the sex. That, itself, was earth-shattering, life-changing, nothing short of magical. But the thought of him hearing you like that? Exposing you, exposing Changbin himself, when you trusted him that you were alone? It makes him feel sick.

Worse, what if he heard the awkwardness after. What if he heard Changbin crying. Fuck.

He scrubs shampoo into his hair, body wash down his body. When he rinses away the suds, they expose faint red lines along his shoulder, down his biceps. They ache with the memory of your nails. Changbin shudders.

There’s a knock on the door.

“We’ve got twenty minutes, Bin, we really need to go.”

“Coming,” Changbin shouts back and turns off the water.

He gets out, towels off and finally takes a glance in the mirror. He looks normal, except for the faint red lines … well, those and the giant bags under his eyes. As he stares himself down, he sees his phone light up, and he picks it up at lightning speed. But it’s just Jeongin. Asking if he was going to hit the gym today.

Changbin sighs, puts his phone back down.

It was going to be a long fucking day.

You don’t text him that day. Or the next.

Changbin’s a fucking mess.

He’s distracted. Takes 20 takes to get one part of his rap right. Snaps at Jisung so hard he actually makes him cry. Forgets a meeting. Steps on Felix’s foot during dance practice.

Not that anyone noticed. They all treat him the same, nobody looking at him twice. He doesn’t know what’s pissing him off more, their ignorance, or his own petty, way too emotional reaction to it.

Between that, and Hyunjin’s severe mood swings, Changbin feels like he’s at sea, being tossed back and forth by the whims of anyone but him. And that pisses him off, too.

Hyunjin … he doesn’t know how Hyunjin feels. Because one second, he’s meeting his eyes staring daggers at him through the mirror in the dance practice rooms, muttering something to Felix that Changbin can’t shake the feeling is about him. The next, he bumps Jisung aside when they get into the car to go home and forces himself into the seat next to Changbin, his thigh falling against his – all while stubbornly refusing to look at him. Changbin doesn’t even dare say his name. What was he going to say anyway? “Hey, Hyune, did you hear me and Y/N fuck? Is that why you’re insert-whatever-adjective-here” because it’s not like Changbin can figure it out.

Because Hyunjin drags his palm over his knee before he gets out, but the next morning he slams the bathroom door into his face so hard it nearly breaks Changbin’s nose. But then he fucking stares again, in the dressing room, big, dark eyes burning into Changbin’s back as he is shooed around by the make-up noonas.

But all of it, it doesn’t make any damn sense. Hyunjin’s upset, clearly, but Changbin can’t figure out what he’s upset about – or what he plans to do about it. Is he upset because Changbin fucked you the week before he was meant to take you out? Is that it? Does he think it was some petty move to keep his best friend to himself? Except that logic doesn’t hold up very well, now, does it, since Changbin’s pretty sure he fucked up your friendship entirely.

Sometime on Thursday afternoon, he has convinced himself that Hyunjin’s mad because you cancelled on him. It took a while to allow himself to think that way, because the delusions – well, he would love to tell himself you probably just cancelled because you hooked up with anyone, and it didn’t feel fair to Hyunjin, but then again he knows you’re not like that, and then his brain starts to feed him hope, hope that you cancelled because you can’t stop fucking thinking about him the way he can’t stop thinking about you, replaying every single moment, both the good and the bad, until he’s sure he will never forget a single one of your noises, a single one of your unbelievably sexy moans of his fucking name …

But Felix skips and jumps over and makes his whole world turn upside down again.

He bounds over to where Hyunjin is sitting on the floor next to where Changbin is lounging on the sofas, Hyunjin’s hand resting on Changbin’s shoes. He’s still refusing to look Changbin in the eye – but his pinky finger is tracing the line of Changbin’s ankle through his sock.

Changbin wonders if this is what the first symptoms of insanity feel like.

“Hyunjinniiiiieee,” Felix sing-songs, plops himself down on the floor next to Hyunjin and slings one arm over his shoulder. “Do you have plans on Saturday and do you want to go shopping with me?”

Hyunjin hums, leans into Felix’s touch, his hand leaving Changbin’s foot in favour of patting Felix’s hand.

“Sorry, Yongbok-ah, I’m busy,” he hums, his voice calm and honeyed, though Changbin doesn’t miss how he starts fidgeting with his ring.

“Ah, right, you’re going out with Y/nie right?” Felix exclaims and gives Changbin a wide smile, before his attention is back on Hyunjin.

From where he’s sitting, Changbin can’t see Hyunjin’s face, only sees him turn to Felix and nod slightly.

“Forgot about that, sorry, Jinnie,” Felix mumbles, brings his hand to Hyunjin’s back and starts kneading the muscles there. Hyunjin’s head falls forward with a little moan that, on any normal day, would send Changbin’s thoughts straight into the gutter. “What are you gonna do? Or where are you taking her? Wait … is this a … you know?”

Hyunjin bumps Felix with his leg, so hard, Felix lets out a little yelp. He blinks at Hyunjin, then Changbin, before he blushes.

“We’re going to see that exhibition I told you about. The one none of you wanted to go to with me,” Hyunjin states, bluntly, both of his hands now busy twirling his ring around his finger in his lap.

“What?! You didn’t ask me! I would’ve said yes!” Felix exclaims, indignant and wide-eyed.

Changbin doesn’t need to see Hyunjin to know he’s glaring at Felix. There’s nothing Hyunjin hates more than when someone forgets something he said to them.

“Yes, I did. Three weeks ago. When we got chicken. I asked everyone, even manager-hyung. And you said you didn’t care for modern art.” Felix falters, freckled face falling into an expression of embarrassment.

“Oh,” he mumbles, “well, I would’ve gone with you if I’d known nobody else wanted to go.”

Hyunjin scoffs, tosses his hair out of his eyes. He brings his hands up to his face, as if he’s inspecting his cuticles.

“Well, she wanted to go. Really wanted to, actually. She asked me to take her.” He says it nonchalantly, his voice the picture of calm confidence, but Changbin can see the muscles tick in his neck.

‘He asked me to go to this art exhibit with him this weekend’ the memory of your voice says. Changbin tries not to let it get to him. He fails spectacularly.

Hyunjin tosses his head again and gets up, his arm brushing sparks against Changbin’s leg as he gets up.

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna go shower.”

He’s out the door before Changbin or Felix can say another word.

Then Felix looks at Changbin and Changbin is out of his seat at lightning speed.

“Hyung …” Felix sighs, his eyes big and round and full of pity. Changbin shakes his head.

“You don’t like that Hyunjin and Y/N are going on a date?”

Changbin doesn’t answer, focuses instead on shoving his towel, his bottle, his phone’s portable battery, all of it into his backpack.

“It’s okay if you don’t, you know?” Felix tries again, “but then I think you should tell them, instead of keeping it inside.”

“Yongbok-ah …” Changbin says, warningly, and it comes out a lot meaner than he intends to. He watches Felix flinch and sighs.

“Please, drop it.”

Felix deflates and Changbin feels even worse.

“Fine,” he mumbles, “but if you do end up wanting to talk about it, I’m here, okay?”

Changbin nods, pats Felix’s shoulder and gets up.

Changbin knows that he won’t. He can’t even begin to think of confessing all of this to Chan, how could he unload it onto Felix, his most precious dongsaeng. But he knows Felix will feel better if he agrees. So he lies.

“I will, thank you, Yongbok-ah.”

When Changbin’s phone buzzes on the mixing desk next to Chan at 1am on Friday night, 12 hours out from when he presumes your date with Hyunjin is, Changbin doesn’t even bother to check it.

But Chan glances over and picks it up.

“Y/N’s texting,” he says, casually, and hands Changbin his phone, like Changbin’s heart didn’t just fall into his ass.

If he was alone, Changbin doesn’t know if he would’ve checked it. But Chan is right there, and he doesn’t have the strength to make up an excuse for why he would be ignoring a text from his best friend. So he unlocks his phone.

from: Y/Nie hey hey Y/Nie is typing….

“Do you think we should keep Seungmin’s first or second take?” Chan asks. Changbin blinks at him and Chan presses play, brows furrowed, eyes glued to the screen.

They sound identical.

“I think the first one’s better, right?” Chan muses, and Changbin’s phone buzzes in his hands.

“Yeah, totally,” he mumbles, and whips his head back down. You texted again. His heartbeat picks up.

from: Y/Nie sorry for the radio silence 😅 kinda had to convince myself you didn’t hate me because you didn’t text me either but then I realised that that is hypocritical of me so here I am … please don’t hate me

Butterflies. A swarm of them. Something warm, dripping down Changbin’s spine. Regret, still, too much of it to put into words, but mostly … relief.

As quickly as he can, he replies.

from: me of course, I don’t hate you I could never

He tries to calm down, tells himself not to be too honest. Not when the situation is so fragile. Not over text.

from: Y/Nie THANK GOD

The message makes him huff out a laugh, and Chan looks over and gives him a little smile. Changbin blushes.

The dots, the little Y/Nie is typing…. text blinks in and out of existence for a solid minute before your next message pops up.

from: Y/Nie because I kinda really missed you

Changbin takes a deep, steadying breath.

I missed you, too is what he wants to say. I missed you, too, I always do. I wish it hadn’t ended the way it did. I wish I could stop loving you, but I can’t. But I want you in my life in whatever form I can.

from: me I missed you, too I think chan is sick of me actually being at the studio instead of disappearing at some point and leaving him to do his work

Changbin looks up. Chan is humming under his breath, completely relaxed, editing a midi track, his knee bouncing under the table. Sorry, Chan

from: Y/Nie well, we can’t have that! chan needs to write the next big stray kids hit, we can’t have you distract him like that!

from: me yah! you say you missed me and the first thing you do is bully me

from: Y/Nie gotta keep you humble ;)

Changbin sighs. He knows this probably isn’t a solution, pretending like it never happened, just going back to how things were before. But it feels so good. And everything … it’s too big, it’s too much. And if this is the only way your friendship will survive, then he’ll take it. He’ll take whatever you give him.

It’s silent for a few seconds and Changbin wonders if that’s it, but then you text one last time.

from: Y/Nie I gotta sleep now but let’s get lunch next week?

from: me I’d love that night, y/nie

from: Y/Nie night, bin <3

It’s the heart that sustains him, makes him breathe easier for the next half hour and all the way home and into bed. He falls asleep easily for the first time in days, sleeps a dreamless, restful sleep until he wakes up to the sun peeking in through the blinds, the warm sheets – and Hyunjin yelling at Jisung to get out of the bathroom.

The realisation crashes over him without mercy.

Hyunjin is getting ready. To go out. With you.

Dread collects and settles thickly into his bones, makes him bury himself further under the sheets as he fishes for his phone and opens his chat with Chan.

from: me yo what are you doing today? wanna hit the gym and write some music?

He places his phone down on the mattress, and he waits. Listens to the sounds of the traffic outside, of the dorm slowly waking up; hears Jisung screech, then Hyunjin yell something, before a door slams.

His phone buzzes.

from: cb97 sorry, man, already at the gym now having lunch with young-hyun later probably won’t make it to the studio at all today

Changbin buries his face in his pillow and sighs. Hyunjin’s cackle sifts through the cracks in the door.

He can’t stay here. He can’t witness Hyunjin getting all dolled up, wearing some cute outfit, bouncing out of the front door on his merry way to a date that might as well seal Changbin’s fate. No, he needs to figure something out, he needs to go.

So he texts the only other person he knows would willingly spend a Saturday buried in a dark, lightless studio.

from: me yah jisung-ah what are you doing today

If he mentally says a prayer as he waits for his answer, that’s between him and his pillow.

Jisung, predictably, texts back almost immediately.

from: j.one morning hyung~~ probably gonna to the company work on some songs why?

from: me need any help? or want some company? I need to get out of the house today

There’s silence for a minute, and even Jisung’s and Hyunjin’s bickering has gone silent. Changbin tries not to let his paranoia get the best of him. Hyunjin’s getting ready. Jisung is probably just on his phone on his bed. Or texting Minho.

It takes a few minutes before Jisung finally responds.

from: j.one sure! I actually got this rap I would love to get your input on

from: me cool leave in an hour?

from: j.one 👍

And it’s so quiet that Changbin really, really thought he could get away with it. That he could leave the dorm, with Jisung, without bumping into Hyunjin but, of course, he couldn’t.

He opens his door, takes one step, and collides with Hyunjin’s shoulder.

The impact isn’t strong, only enough to send Changbin reeling back a few steps, his backpack dropping from his hand and onto the floor, but that’s not what slams the breath out of his chest.

It’s Hyunjin’s perfume, the one he only wears for special occasions, thick and floral and, at the same time, somehow manly, laced with the smell of his shampoo and his hair, curling into Changbin’s nose and making his mouth water. And it only gets worse when he looks up and meets Hyunjin’s eyes. He’s always been a master at dramatising himself. Unlike Changbin, who’s always just the same, just … Changbin, Hyunjin knows exactly how to dress himself to look the perfect level of casual, yet fuckable. His long black hair is a little wavy, casual and he’s wearing make-up. Not a lot, for their standards, but just a bit. Just enough. Foundation, a light shade of brown around his eyes that renders them big and soft, soft pink lip balm on his full lips that makes them look obscenely kissable. If Changbin wasn’t already terminally, irrevocably in love with him, he’s sure he would fall in love with him then. He swallows bitterly when he realises that that’s probably actually exactly what Hyunjin is going for. With you.

Hyunjin’s dressed simply, but clearly with intent. Blue jeans, a white t-shirt, that’s just tight enough to sit snugly over his shoulders and his biceps and his … Changbin swallows … his pecs, and …

“Are those Jisung’s shoes?”

The words tumble from his mouth before he can stop them. The first words he and Hyunjin have exchanged in three days, and he’s asking about Jisung’s shoes?!

Hyunjin falters for a second, clearly stupefied by Changbin’s question. He nods slowly.

Changbin just nods back, barely manages to look Hyunjin in the eyes.

They didn’t get dressed together. Jisung knows nothing. I’m being paranoid. I’m being paranoid. Changbin, you’re being paranoid!!!!!!

Changbin must really be losing it because Hyunjin’s brows pull together in a grimace of concern that somehow makes him look even more like an angel.

“Hyung, are you okay?”

He sounds like he cares so much. Changbin wants to laugh. Or cry. Or both at the same time.

“I’m fine, Hyunjin-ah,” he forces out, forces a smile as he bends down and picks up his backpack.

“Are you sure?” Hyunjin adds, almost too fast. He sucks his bottom lip, starts gnawing at it. He looks like wants to say something else, but Changbin doesn’t let him. He can’t. Who knows what this conversation could turn into. Hyunjin needs to go meet you and Changbin needs to go to the studio with Jisung. It’s better this way.

“Don’t worry about me,” he chirps, so fake it makes his teeth ache with it, and pushes past Hyunjin as fast as he possibly can. He ignores the new wave of Hyunjin’s perfume that slams into him as he makes his way to the kitchen, where, thankfully, he finds Jisung already waiting.

Jisung’s head whips up when Changbin barges in, and they only widen more when Changbin beams at him and waves him towards the door.

“Let’s go, Jisung-ah!” he exclaims, much too loudly, and turns around before he can see Jisung throw a glance towards the hallway he just came from or look at him with any more of the surprise or the concern that makes Changbin’s stomach turn.

Thankfully, Jisung follows him, doesn’t ask any questions. Only falls into step with Changbin and when Changbin asks, talks about the song he wanted help with. Jisung had always been his favourite dongsaeng.

Changbin manages not to think about you and Hyunjin for most of the day. But what he does think about, a lot, is the moment he would have to face Hyunjin. By the time he drifts off to sleep he’s sure he’s imagined all the worst possible outcomes, Hyunjin stumbling in late at night only half dressed, Hyunjin walking into the kitchen the next morning with hickeys on his neck, Hyunjin with literal hearts floating around his head for all Changbin knows – but none of that happens.

He meets Hyunjin the next day in the kitchen when he goes to get a snack. Hyunjin, dressed in his ratty old sweatpants and his hair tied up haphazardly, is filling the little transparent cup Changbin knows he uses for painting with water by the sink, looks just like he always does. He turns around, sees Changbin, and smiles. A little sheepish, a little awkward, maybe, but he smiles. And Changbin does what he does best. He takes the excuse to delude himself, and he runs with it.

On Monday, they have a schedule. Hyunjin picks the make-up chair next to him. They don’t talk much, but Hyunjin knocks his foot against his and shows him a meme of a little piglet and a bunny being friends about halfway through, a devastatingly pretty smile on his lips. Changbin smiles back.

On Tuesday, Changbin meets you for lunch at your company. You hug him hello, wrap your hand around his arm so you don’t lose him as you pull him through the packed cafeteria. You pick out his favourite melon soda from the refrigerator without him having to ask. You chatter about this album you’re working on, about your parents coming to visit in a couple weeks. You don’t talk about Hyunjin. When you smile at him and sneak half of your helping of chicken onto his plate in exchange for one of his mushrooms, he can’t bring himself to ask. He hugs you goodbye.

On Wednesday, he stays late at the studio with Chan and Jisung. They get into a flow, manage to finish the demos for two songs. Write another, late at night, delirious off sugar and lack of sleep, one that will probably never see the light of day. He loves them. He comes home smiling, waves them off down the hallway to their rooms before he gets himself a bottle of water from the fridge. He takes a little detour past Hyunjin’s room almost automatically. His door is ajar, the light on, but he can hear Hyunjin snore quietly. He creeps in, tiptoes over to the bedside table, where the light is still on, throwing a hazy warm glow over Hyunjin’s sleeping form. Glossy lips parted, eyebrows slightly drawn up, almost like he’s surprised, his hair messily fanned over the pillow half his face is smushed into, he’s the most beautiful thing Changbin has ever seen. He indulges himself, brushes a few of his strands out of his eyes, lets his fingertip drag over the curve of his cheek, before he switches off the lamp and leaves, closing the door behind him.

On Thursday, he catches Hyunjin giggling at his phone, but he’s already convinced himself that the date on Saturday was most likely a dud. Maybe not even bad, just … not as exciting as you’d hoped. Maybe you’d met and the spark you’d both felt wasn’t there. Maybe you said something about the art that gave Hyunjin the ick. Maybe his dreaminess was too much for your pragmatic nature.

Because if it had been any other way, Hyunjin wouldn’t have just gone back to normal, right? Back to leaning against Changbin in the elevator and giggling with him in the kitchen. And you, you would’ve brought it up, right? That first day at lunch, or the countless times you texted after that. Right?

If Hyunjin and you had had a good date, if you’d kissed (a notion Changbin can’t entertain for too long because the mere idea of it makes him dizzy with a lot of confusing feelings that he refuses to decode right now) or if you’d agreed on a second date, if you were still talking, he wouldn’t be here right now, two weeks later, sitting on your sofa at some ungodly hour, ripped from the studio, from Chan who watched him go with a knowing, unsurprised grin, the remnants of delivery tteokbokki and dumplings still on the table and some random drama on the TV.

Your body wouldn’t have been slowly drifting towards his over the last hour, you wouldn’t have slung your leg over his, you … you wouldn’t have fallen asleep snuggled into his shoulder the way you did. Breathing softly, fingers twitching where they were still holding on to him.

And when he carried your half awake form to your bedroom later, tucked you into bed, you wouldn’t have leaned up, murmured his name, wouldn’t have pulled him into the softest, gentlest, kiss, just the pressure of your soft lips against his …

Right?

Except you would, apparently.

Changbin wasn’t meant to go to the company the next day. He was meant to have a day off, and he didn’t mean to work, he just wanted to get his laptop because he forgot it the night before because he was so eager to get out of there to get to yours–

Changbin wasn’t meant to be here.

He wasn’t meant to round a corner and see Hyunjin, standing between your legs where you’re sitting on the shoe storage outside the dance practice room, one hand caressing the skin of your back under your shirt, the other pulling your hips closer against his, as if your legs aren’t wrapped around him. He’s not meant to see you, tonguing into Hyunjin’s open mouth, the lips that were pressed against his not even 12 hours before pulled into a delirious smile as you devour each other.

Nausea rises in Changbin’s throat when Hyunjin giggles, when you bring your hand to gently cup his face. It’s so intimate. It doesn’t take a genius to see that this isn’t the first time you’re kissing either. Changbin’s stomach turns.

He turns on his heels, makes sure not to make a sound until he rounds the corner again, and then he runs.

He makes it into one of the studios before the first tears fall.

Fuck, this hurts worse than he thought it would.

Oh, he’s so fucking stupid.

Fuck, it hurts.

Now that he’s thinking about it, really thinking about it, there had never been any indication that you stopped talking after your date. Hyunjin had gone back to normal, and so did you because … he slams his fist against the side of his head so hard that it aches. He’s so fucking stupid. Of course, you went back to normal – because that’s all you were. Friends. You and him. Hyunjin and him. Friends.

But now that he’s seen it, he can’t stop thinking about it. Your date went well. You met Hyunjin at the museum, probably looked at his stupid casual outfit that showed off his stupidly attractive body, and you had probably worn something equally casual but flattering because you, too, were good at that. And then the two of you had probably walked through the museum and talked about art and life and the human condition, with sparkling eyes, maybe your hands had brushed, maybe Hyunjin had booked the museum for after-hours so you could have it to yourself, and maybe he kissed you in front of some painting and …

His stomach feels like it’s filled with lead.

He wonders if Yongbok knows. If Hyunjin came back from his date and told Jisung and Chan.

Why hadn’t he told him?! A part of him knows, it’s because he heard you and Changbin and … maybe he felt it even before then, Changbin’s resistance to the idea of them dating. Of course, he would. Hyunjin probably knew how fucking pathetically in love Changbin was with you and probably knew that you weren’t and …

But then why did he even date you? What happened to bros before hoes? I mean he saw the sparks, he saw the glint in Hyunjin’s eyes, the smile on your face but … was it worth it to Hyunjin? Was the connection that strong?

Also … why did you kiss him last night? He knows you were sleepy, but not that sleepy, right? And you weren’t aiming for his cheek, there was no way …

Changbin’s head hurts. And so does his heart. He still doesn’t have his laptop, because he would have to walk back and past where he saw you to get it, but it’s not like it matters anyway. And he wonders how on earth he’s going to navigate this new reality.

The reality where you and Hyunjin are … well, whatever you are. His heart cracks a little in his chest when he thinks the words.

In love.

“Right,” the staff member who’s always in charge of their SKZ Code episodes says and claps her hands. She looks oddly excited. “For today, you are going to pretend to be doctors. Surgeons, nurses, whatever, get funny with it!”

She grins, takes a look at the eight boys all lined up in front of her in fake scrubs and white jeans and lab coats.

Changbin feels stupid.

He’s also in a bad mood, which doesn’t help, but the outfit makes him feel stupid. Where there was sadness, there is a slowly simmering, building rage now. Changbin’s been watching it build slowly, watching his resentment thicken, his mood sour, and he hasn’t even bothered to try to cool himself off, because what’s his other option? Going back to heartbreak? No, he’d rather be angry. At himself sometimes, but also at Hyunjin, at you, pretending everything is fine — at being forced to watch Hyunjin giggle, bite his lip at his phone at least once a day. Sometimes he even nudges Yongbok, tilts his screen, points at something and whispers and Yongbok wiggles his eyebrow. And it’s not like Changbin would’ve talked to Yongbok, even though he offered, but the idea that that option was taken from him? It also pisses him off. So Hyunjin doesn’t just get you, he also gets Felix, huh? What does Changbin get? He gets fucking nothing.

He’s still brooding as the staff sorts them into groups, chatters to them, about the games they’ll play.

“The first group is Changbin, Chan, Hyunjin and Jeongin, the other Jisung, Minho, Seungmin and Yongbok,” she announces, pointing to the two tables set-up between them, “go to your team and pick what kind of doctors you want to be. That’ll be your team name.”

Chan shimmies over to him with a blinding smile, throws an arm around him and coos his name, his usual affection, just a little bit ramped up for the cameras – and trying to lift Changbin’s mood, because of course Chan knows.

“Binniiiiie,” Chan coos with a giggle, “we’ll be in a team. What kind of doctors should we be? Brain surgeons?”

Jeongin scoffs as he makes his way to Changbin’s other side. “We’re so not smart enough for that.”

Hyunjin is the last to find his way to them and Changbin tries not to look, but of course, he does. Hyunjin looks between Changbin and Chan and Jeongin, and Changbin does his best to tell himself that what he sees in his eyes isn’t disappointment.

Hyunjin makes his way over to them, a too bright smile plastered on his face.

“We could be doctors for like muscles and stuff, because we dance so much,” Jeongin muses, half distracted by Seungmin making faces at him across the room.

Hyunjin chuckles, tips how head to the side, makes eye contact with Changbin.

“Or we could be heart doctors?” he singsongs, making Chan chuckle into Changbin’s ear.

Changbin blinks. He can’t be serious …

“Ooh, Hyunjinnie, you want to be a love doctor?” Chan coos.

Hyunjin just giggles, his eyes crinkling at the edges.

Changbin stays quiet. Usually, he would’ve taken the opportunity. Would have walked right over there with a dramatic sigh of Hyunjin’s name, mumbling something about him not needing a love doctor when Changbin was right there, to take care of his heart, or some bullshit. But he doesn’t. He stubbornly crosses his arms and stares at the wall.

Jeongin next to them is oblivious.

“I like it, very macho,” he chuckles, and so it’s decided.

Chan announces the team name once the staff asks, Seungmin does his usual MC duties and they play. Rock paper scissors to decide the order. A spelling game.

Changbin knows he’s quiet, but he hopes it’s not too noticeable. Or at least Stay can forgive him just this once when the episode comes out. Because he’s trying his best to stay as far away from Hyunjin as possible, and it’s equally difficult as it is heartbreaking. Because Changbin misses his best friend.

Hyunjin cackles about something Jeongin said, and throws his arm around him. And Changbin aches. He feels like he’ll never stop aching.

“Next,” Seungmin monotones, “we’re going to be diagnosing each other as — each other!”

Everyone dutifully makes confused noises. Seungmin continues.

“One member will put on a blindfold and sit in front of the cameras, and another member will be chosen to use this microphone, which distorts your voice, to give the member in front of the camera a compliment – but not as themselves, but a compliment that someone else would make.”

Oohs and aahs.

“So if it was my turn to sit there, and Jisung’s to do the compliment, and his task was to pretend to be Minho complimenting me, he would probably just go ‘good dog’.”

Jisung and everyone else laughs, and Seungmin smiles at Minho’s offended noise. And Changbin thinks this is a safe game.

Except it’s not. Of course, it isn’t.

It’s all fun and games. They have a good time, make some jokes that will surely have to be cut out, especially when it’s Jisung’s turn and Jeongin makes an obscene sound instead of a compliment Minho would make, but there’s also lots of squabbling that he knows Stay will love. But then it’s Hyunjin’s turn.

Changbin watches him sit, slide the blindfold over his silky hair, a motion that would make Changbin dizzy on a normal day. But then Felix gets shown which member he’s meant to imitate, and it’s Changbin.

“Yaaah, Hyunjin-aaah,” Yongbok scream-whispers into the microphone, to the great amusement of everyone else. “When will you finally stop playing hard to get and be my boyfriend, Hyunjin-ah? You’re so beautiful! You’re an angel! You’re the most exquisite being God has ever created …”

Jisung slaps Yongbok’s arm and Yongbok breaks out into a slew of giggles.

Everyone’s laughing. Hyunjin’s ears are bright red. Changbin feels like he’s about to cry.

He’s always been pathetic, huh, he realises. He never cared if he looked a little silly, especially because Hyunjin loved it. But now, hearing Yongbok make a joke of it, seeing everyone else cackle and throw him looks, Changbin realises he’s been making a fucking fool out of himself. His eyes burn hotter than his cheeks do. He wants to fucking die.

“Ah,” Hyunjin chuckles awkwardly. Oddly enough, he doesn’t sound like he finds it funny either. “Changbin-hyung.”

Not a question, no surprise when everyone cheers and tells him he’s right.

Hyunjin removes the blindfold with a crooked smile, and when he turns, his eyes immediately fall on Changbin. His smile falls slightly. He gets up and walks back over to them and this time, Changbin’s side is exposed, so he slots himself right in. He slings an arm around his shoulders and Changbin gets a whiff of his shampoo and Changbin …

Changbin shrugs Hyunjin’s arm off his shoulders and steps away from him in one quick motion, and everyone falls silent. Changbin can’t bear to look at Hyunjin, but based on Yongbok’s expression, Hyunjin must be upset. Changbin swallows the guilt, lets it get swallowed up by the pool of resentment bubbling inside of him. Serves him right.

Minho puts them back on track quickly, steps forward to take his place, and everyone starts babbling, recovering quickly, practised, bouncing back to their camera personas, but Changbin tunes out. Yongbok’s distorted voice keeps repeating the words over and over again in his head until Changbin feels like nothing but a cheap distortion of himself.

The last game, or rather, the last thing they film, because the segment where they have lunch mercifully was filmed when they were actually having lunch today instead of at 4pm, is a dance challenge, but with a twist. They have to spontaneously dance to whatever songs come on, their own choreographies from over the years, but with another member and a balloon lodged between the two of them. And Changbin prays, tries to catch Chan’s eyes, or Jeongin’s, but the way they’re standing, they already paired up, and the only other person left on their team is …

“Hyung, we’ll kill it,” Hyunjin chirps as he walks over to him, balloon in hand. “Remember when we did this last time, and you turned to me. Our height difference was actually helpful. I think we’ve got this one in the bag.”

Hyunjin is avoiding his eyes, chattering on, an anxious smile on his lips, and Changbin just hums. Any energy he might have had to fight the tightness in his chest is slowly draining out of him.

Hyunjin places the balloon against his own chest, steps forward and, once it’s securely held up between their bodies, drapes his arms over Changbin’s shoulders. From this position, Changbin doesn’t have a choice but look at Hyunjin.

His heart fucking aches when he does. He’s pretty, as always. No, gorgeous. Subtle make-up, hair purposely fluffy and messy, of course, but what really gets Changbin every time are his eyes. They’re big, warm, they feel like home. Especially when they’re pulling into little crescents when he smiles. Like he is right now. Smiling at him with more warmth than Changbin has felt in such a long time.

“Hi hyung,” he hums, a teasing lilt to his voice. Changbin swallows down the urge to glare at him. “Fancy seeing you here. Come here often?”

Changbin swears his eye nearly starts twitching. Hyunjin’s breath puffs against his face.

“Ha,” he huffs out, but it lacks all humour. “Very funny, Hyunjin-ah.”

Hyunjin doesn’t seem to get the memo. But then S-Class blasts through the shitty little speakers the staff brought and Changbin’s body automatically responds with the dance, and so does Hyunjin’s.

But he’s grateful that, as he goes through the motions, he has an excuse to stare at the stupid blue balloon between them. Though the song ends before long, Jisung and Seungmin unsurprisingly already eliminated.

“Hyung,” Hyunjin mumbles, and Changbin makes the mistake of looking up. Hyunjin’s face is so close, Changbin can make out each individual eyelash framing his eyes.

The notes of Silent Cry slice through the room and Changbin momentarily forgets to be mad as he tries to remember the choreography – and promptly all thoughts leave his mind when Hyunjin swivels his hips and brushes his thigh against Changbin’s and Changbin swears he did it on purpose. When he looks up and meets Hyunjin’s eyes, Hyunjin is already staring at him.

Their balloon nearly drops with how fast Changbin tries to put distance between them. He tries to think of something unsexy, grandmas and dogshit, you and Hyunjin making out and probably doing a lot more than just grinding on each other, but that does shockingly little. Quite the opposite.

Thankfully, the song ends, but because nobody was eliminated, staff plays the next one right after. Maniac, now, and if Changbin’s heart didn’t feel like it was about to shatter and his dick didn’t feel like it was about to chub up embarrassingly fast, he would’ve laughed at how stupid it looked, everyone trying to do a half-assed twirl with the balloon between them. Somehow, he and Hyunjin make it, though, a little twirl, then hand to forehead. Hyunjin’s intense stare catches on Changbin’s, and he winks, lets his tongue slide over his bottom lip. Changbin almost moans.

The song ends, the game is over, everyone else is slowly peeling apart, but Hyunjin isn’t going anywhere. His arms fall back over Changbin’s shoulders, he tips his head to the side and stares at Changbin, eyes dipping down to his lips so quickly, Changbin thinks he might have made it up. And then Changbin feels his fingers at the nape of his neck, scratching up his scalp, and something in Changbin’s stomach turns.

He steps back so abruptly, Hyunjin’s arms and the balloon fall to the ground. The balloon pops, making everyone jump and stare over at them, but Changbin is beyond caring.

“We’re done, right?” he asks the staff, and stares them down until they nod apprehensively. He doesn’t know how manic he looks, he needs to get the fuck out of here.

He makes it out of the main room, back into the hallway that leads to their haphazardly thrown together dressing room, but he doesn’t get far before he hears steps behind him.

“Changbin,” Hyunjin’s voice echoes through the room and Changbin stops as if rooted to the spot, for one second, before he turns around and stalks towards Hyunjin, who stares at him.

“What the fuck?!”

It’s the only thing Changbin manages to say, his mind a mess, the resentment threatening to bubble up and over.

“Why the fuck would you … what the fuck was that?!”

It’s barely more coherent, so it’s no wonder Hyunjin just stares at him, mouth agape, eyes wide. Not understanding.

“Why were you … I wasn’t flirting with you?!” Changbin yells, “why were you … that’s not … why the fuck would you do this now?!”

Hyunjin shakes his head, takes another few steps toward Changbin, his arms stretched in front of him in an expression of utter disbelief.

“What?! I … I don’t get! I thought you wanted everything to go back to the way it was!? I was just trying to do what seemed to make you most comfortable!” Hyunjin yells, and Changbin shudders with frustration.

“Now you’re just being fucking cruel, Hyunjin,” he hisses, and Hyunjin’s big eyes turn narrow.

In two steps, Hyunjin is right in front of him, staring at him from where he’s towering over Changbin.

“Cruel? I’m being cruel? You’ve been flirting with me for years, off camera, on camera, and you waved it off every single time, and now I’m asking you to stop with the games and put your money where your mouth is before it’s too late, and I’m being cruel?” Before it’s too late?

Hyunjin takes a step forward, invades Changbin’s space and Changbin stumbles backwards into the wall with a thud.

“Fuck you, Hyunjin. I don’t know what you’re doing, but it’s not cool,” he manages to hiss out, but Hyunjin just shakes his head. His eyes are glued to Changbin’s lips.

“If you would just let me explain …,” he mumbles, and then Hyunjin is kissing him.

Kissing Hwang Hyunjin is everything Changbin ever thought it would be and so much more. He’s overwhelming, crowding him against the wall, his hand strong where it’s resting against the nape of his neck. He also smells incredible, his pomegranate chapstick smearing against Changbin’s lips in a kiss that is equal parts elegance and raw, desperate want.

Hyunjin presses Changbin into the wall harder, towering over him, and Changbin moans, his hands back on Hyunjin’s waist, trying to pull him closer, kiss him deeper, get more, and Hyunjin sighs into the kiss, links his fingers with Changbin’s and presses it over his chest and …

Reality catches up to Changbin all at once and his eyes shoot open and he pushes Hyunjin away so hard, Hyunjin nearly slams into the wall opposite.

“Don’t … What?!” he gasps out, wipes his mouth with the back of his mind, staring at Hyunjin. He’s so fucking gorgeous like this, all flushed and wide-eyed and– 

Oh fuck.

“What the fuck, Hyunjin?!” Changbin yells, before he can think better of it. Hyunjin stumbles further back, but he opens his mouth. “Do you think I’m fucking stupid?! That I don’t know you and Y/N are seeing each other?!”

“No, Binnie, …” Hyunjin tries to say but Changbin can’t … He can’t believe Hyunjin would do this.

Hyunjin raises his hands, eyes big and entreating, and tries to take a step towards him, but Changbin stumbles backwards. It’s no longer resentment he feels, now it’s just … anger. Disgust.

“So what, are you cheating on her?! Are you trying to prove something? What the fuck?!”

“Changbin,” Hyunjin says again, but Changbin just shakes his head. Slowly, he starts walking backwards, away from Hyunjin, because he doesn’t trust himself right now.

“She deserves better than that, Hyunjin. And I deserve better, too, than to be used like this. You can find someone else to fuck with.”

“I swear, Binnie, please …”

“Don’t get fucking near me, Hyunjin. I don’t want to see your face any more,” Changbin spits, and the venom of his words feel like daggers in his own chest.

He turns, walks down the hallway as fast as he can. This time, there are no footsteps following him.

Somehow, he manages to make it through the process of undressing, of filing into the cars, without crying.

Changbin barely looks at Hyunjin, the handful of glances nearly enough to make him break down, right there, in the middle of some random shoot location. Hyunjin looks about three seconds away from crying, but he won’t stop staring at Changbin. Changbin can feel his eyes, boring into the back of his head, like he’s taunting him. He can’t get the taste of him, the feeling of him so close, out of his goddamn head.

He gets in the car first and when the others don’t join, he watches through the tinted windows as Chan mumbles something to Hyunjin and Jisung, who nod, throw weary glances at the car, before walking over to the other car.

Chan turns and makes for the car Changbin’s in, climbs in, and closes the door behind him.

“Just us today,” he says to the driver, who nods and pulls away.

Changbin doesn’t look at Chan during the drive. For an hour, he sits next to him, his chest burning with unshed tears, his fists balled at his side, his brain running amok, white noise and pain.

Somehow they make it to the dorm.

Chan says goodbye to the driver, follows Changbin into the elevator, up to their floor, down the hall. He waits patiently until Changbin has punched in the code, until the door has fallen shut behind them, and they’ve toed off their shoes. He drops his backpack by the door, follows Changbin into his room, where Changbin drops his own, shrugs his jacket off.

When he turns around, Chan folds him into a hug and Changbin breaks down.

White noise. Static. His chest like a balled fist.

“H-he kissed m-me,” he hiccups, a string of drool dripping onto Chan’s shirt. Chan hums, rubs his hands over Changbin’s back soothingly. “H-he f-fucking k-kissed me, after a-all this f-fucking time, Channie.”

Chan’s arms tighten around him, and more sobs tear out of Changbin.

“I’m sorry, hyung. I’m sorry. I love him.”

He sobs again, so hard his legs nearly give out.

Chan shushes him quietly. “I know, Binnie, I know.”

Changbin can’t even pull back, he only clings onto Chan tighter.

“H-how the fuck do y-you know,” he wails, “why are you s-so fine with th-this.”

It’s overwhelming. And it’s getting worse, the idea of Chan knowing makes Changbin wonder who else knows. Who else has been witnessing this whole train wreck knowing more than Changbin does.

His chest tightens until his sobs turn into gasps for air and Chan somehow drags him over to his bed, guides him to sit, all without ever taking his arms from where they’re protectively, soothingly wrapped around Changbin’s body.

“It’s okay, Binnie, it’s okay to love him,” he murmurs, trying to be calm, but Changbin only cries harder. He sobs, spit and tears and snot staining Chan’s shirt.

“It’s not o-okay,” Changbin somehow manages to whimper out, “b-because I l-love her, too. I love him and I love her. I love them both.” Chan’s hands freeze momentarily, before they resume their calm movements over Changbin’s shoulders and his back.

It’s like a dam has broken and Changbin can’t stop spilling his fucking guts.

“And neither of them love me,” he wails, forces the words out between sobs and hiccups. “They love each other. And they’re beautiful together, Channie, they’re so beautiful. And I thought I would be f-fine w-watching because how can I be with either of them when I love the o-other, too, b-but it’s s-so hard, hyung, it’s so f-fucking hard.”

Somewhere along the way he has started hyperventilating again, Changbin realises, because Chan is now rocking him back and forth.

“A-and n-now … he k-kissed me?! A-and sh-she kissed me the o-other … day and … we hooked up, too, Channie, right before her d-date with H-hyunjin and I don’t even know h-how that happened but afterwards it was a-awful and then I s-saw them and now Hyunjin k-kissed me?!”

Chan rocks him hard, tries to shush him, but Changbin is on a roll now.

“Like, how could he ch-cheat on her, right?! Hyunjin, of all … of all f-fucking people. And on h-her?! H-how?! How could he th-throw a chance with her away like that, when it’s a-all I’ve e-ever wanted. How f-fucking d-dare he?! And wh-why the fuck would he use m-me to do it?! There are other p-people, so many people, h-hotter people, probably lining up to kiss Hwang fucking Hyunjin. Why d-did he have to drag m-me into this?! It’s s-so c-cruel.”

“Binnie,” Chan mumbles, but Changbin shakes his head. “Binnie, don’t talk like that.”

Changbin scoffs. A wave of self-hatred washes over him, so strong it nearly blinds him.

“W-why?! Isn’t that what the problem is?! That I’m s-so f-fucking unlovable that w-who I thought were my b-best friends are just … u-using me to play some s-stupid games with each other?! Like I’m just some t-toy. B-because Changbin won’t complain.”

Chan pulls Changbin from his chest so fast Changbin can’t even cover his face, his stupid sweaty, red, face, but Chan doesn’t seem to care. He shakes him. Gently, but Chan shakes him.

“Not another word, Bin,” Chan warns, gives Changbin one of his dad looks, and it’s so intimidating that Changbin actually doesn’t dare say anything else. “I don’t know why they would do what they did, but I’m sure it wasn’t because of that.”

Changbin sniffles.

“Th-then, w-why?”

Chan sighs.

“I don’t know, but it’s not because you don’t mean anything to them. If anything, I think it might be the opposite.”

The thought of that hurts more than all the anger that came before it. Changbin starts sobbing again, and Chan pulls him back into his chest.

“It’s okay, Bin. We’ll figure it out, okay? You’ll figure it out.”

Changbin doesn’t believe him then.

But Chan stays, holds him until the worst of Changbin’s sobs have subsided, waves away his hoarse apology for crying and snotting all over his shirt. Chan brings him water and painkillers and tucks him into bed so gently it would’ve made Changbin start crying all over again, if his body hadn’t utterly exhausted itself. Chan leaves and exhaustion drags Changbin into a deep, dreamless sleep, even though it’s only 8pm.

He sleeps for 14 hours and when he stumbles out of his room the next day, Chan tells him that Hyunjin and Jeongin will be switching rooms for a while.

When Changbin asks what he told them, Chan shrugs, says he just told them Changbin and Hyunjin had a fight. Most of them knew, apparently, about you and Hyunjin dating, about Changbin and his unresolved feelings about the matter, but nobody had dared push the question. On account of “Changbin acting like a ticking time bomb”, according to Chan, which makes Changbin crumple in on himself with more self-loathing.

Nonetheless, Changbin is more grateful than he can even describe. He mumbles as much to Chan, gives Jeongin a half-mumbled thank you as well, but Chan just pats him on the back.

“Told you we’d figure it out, yeah?”

And Changbin nods; realises he should’ve talked to Chan a long, long time ago.

Chan arranges for Changbin to take a couple days off, days which Changbin spends … heartbroken. Wallowing. Crying and eating ice cream, the whole nine yards. Except it’s even worse, because he didn’t just get his heart broken by one person, but two. And along the way he also lost not one of his best friends, but both.

There’s a you-shaped hole in his soul. Every now and again, he picks up his phone, and he sees your chat pinned to the top of his KakaoTalk and the last sticker you sent, and he wishes he could message you. He wishes he could open your chat and go ‘today sucked, wyd?’ like he used to and see your little message bubble pop up immediately, always ready with some words that somehow always made him feel better, even if it was just the stupidest little joke.

And he wishes that in the mornings, he didn’t hear Jeongin’s laugh echoing through the dorm from Jisung and Hyunjin’s bathroom. He wishes Hyunjin were here and everything was normal. He wishes he could knock on Hyunjin’s door like he always did when he had a hard day. Hyunjin always knew, somehow, only had to take one look at Changbin to know. Because on those days, there was only softness, no edge to his pretend words of resistance when Changbin asked if he could come in. He would let Changbin come into the sanctuary that is Hyunjin’s room, like a parallel world, a calm refuge, always smelling slightly of the dried roses hanging from his bedpost, the paint that’s always drying on some canvas or another.

But he has nothing now. He’s in his room, alone, in the empty dorm, while everyone else goes on with their life. And he keeps wondering if somewhere along the way he went wrong.

He didn’t think he did. His love for you and Hyunjin? There was never a question of it ever stopping. And the existence of two loves, his two loves, because they were always going to be a part of him, stitched into the fabric of his heart by fate itself, meant he could never have either. Because both of you deserved more than that. It’s what he always came back to. That part he was sure of. This was always the way it was meant to play out. Right?

A few days, he has lost count in his desolation, Changbin wakes up from a nap to laughter and chatter in the kitchen. One glance at his phone tells him it’s 8pm. He must’ve slept for an hour and a half somehow, though he doesn’t remember even falling asleep.

Groggily, he peels himself out of bed, throws a look in the mirror and runs a hand through his hair before he makes his way out of his room.

Though what he sees when he rounds the corner to the kitchen, makes him freeze in his tracks.

Everyone’s here. Jeongin, Seungmin and Yongbok are unloading containers and containers of takeaway food from countless white bags, Minho and Jisung are bickering and giggling while setting the table, and Chan is talking to …

You and Hyunjin, next to each other, laughing at something Chan said, fiddling with something in a big plastic container, trying to get it out of a brown paper bag …

When your eyes meet Changbin’s, you freeze. Chan whirls around, and Hyunjin sees him last, his face immediately falling as his eyes race up and down Changbin’s sleep-mussed form with badly contained worry.

“Binnie!” Chan exclaims and everyone else turns around. Changbin wants to disappear.

“Wh-what are you all doing here?” he somehow manages to rasp out, and Chan walks up to him.

“What do you mean? It’s your birthday, Bin, do you think we would let you wallow alone on your birthday?”

Oh.

He didn’t realise … Was it really … Wait, did he forget his own birthday?!

Chan seems to see the turmoil in his eyes, because he throws an arm around Changbin’s shoulder and leads him back down the hallway, back to his room.

“Why don’t you take a quick shower, and we’ll be right here, with food on the table, when you’re done, yeah? When’s the last time you had a proper–”

“Why are they here?”

It breaks out of him, interrupts Chan mid-sentence, but Chan doesn’t let it phase him.

“It’s your birthday, they wanted to celebrate it with you. Plus, they wanted to talk to you …”

Changbin panics, opens his mouth to say something, anything, to tell Chan that he isn’t ready, that he can’t face them, especially not together, but Chan shushes him.

“I think you should hear them out. Promise me you’ll hear them out?”

Changbin stares at Chan. He doesn’t know what they could possibly say that wouldn’t end with Changbin’s heart shattered on the floor of his room all over again, but Chan looks so convinced, so optimistic, so determined, that Changbin nods.

“Okay, now off to the shower with you. I’ll tidy up in here a bit, okay? Change your sheets, let some air in.”

Changbin nods again, lets Chan steer him to his drawers to get him a change of clothes, and then into the bathroom. And when he stumbles out of the steam ten minutes later, Chan is sitting on his clean, freshly made bed, scrolling through his phone.

“There you go, much better!” Chan exclaims with one of his patented smiles, and jumps up. “Now let’s get some food before it gets cold, and they kill us because they have to wait any longer.”

Everyone’s already crowded around the big dinner table, cheers erupting when Changbin and Chan come back. Jeongin mumbles a “finally!” and Changbin has no time to think before he’s steered into one of the empty seats, Seungmin to his left, Chan sitting down to his right.

When he looks up, he meets Jisung’s eyes, who smiles brightly at him, playing with Minho’s hand in his lap.

“Happy birthday, hyung! We missed you in the studio today,” he chirps, easily, dripping with sincerity, and Changbin’s heart convulses almost painfully. He had barely thought of the group these last few days, too focused was he on his broken heart. He feels almost bad.

“None of that,” Minho chides, as if he read Changbin’s mind. Though Changbin assumes it was written all over his face anyway. Clearly, his pokerface is lacking these days. “You needed the rest.”

Jisung next to him nods, and Changbin gives them both what he hopes is a genuine smile. But it’s hard. As Chan loads up his plate, he finally dares to let his eyes stray down the table where you and Hyunjin are, sat next to each other.

To his relief, neither of you are looking at him. You’re talking to Jeongin about something, Hyunjin is busy trying to get a drink from the kitchen island without having to get up, before he gives up and does, grabbing two diet cokes, placing one in front of you automatically. The gesture is so domestic it makes Changbin feel sick with jealousy. He can’t do this. He can’t watch this. What the fuck was he thinking?!

But then Hyunjin’s eyes meet his and Hyunjin smiles. It’s small, sheepish, and impossibly soft, big eyes round, mouthing a quiet “hi” and Changbin’s chest erupts into barbed wire butterflies. He wonders how long it will take for him to get over this. He wonders if he ever will.

“Come on, Bin, eat up,” Chan exclaims, rips Changbin’s attention away from Hyunjin and to his plate, filled to the brim with all his favourite foods and when he looks up, Seungmin is smiling at him.

“Eat, hyung, we had to go to like five different places to get all of this, so you better enjoy it,” he teases, and Changbin huffs out a laugh, but digs in.

And really, he didn’t eat very well the last few days, his appetite having all but disappeared, swallowed up by the heartbreak until there was nothing left. So he lived on leftovers left by the others, off cup ramen and convenience store kimbap. And he didn’t care, but now, with all of this in front of him, he realises he’s starving.

So he eats. Lets himself be dragged into different conversations, lets Jisung whine about how fast his rap is in the song they were recording, listens to him and Seungmin discuss singing techniques, to Chan talk about this new machine his personal trainer made him use the other day.

Every now and again, he steals glances at you and Hyunjin, and he doesn’t know if you’re doing it to be kind to him, but there’s no lovey-dovey-ness between you; no whispering, no touching, no stolen glances. Changbin is grateful, but he’s also confused.

But before long, everyone’s done eating and you and Hyunjin disappear into the kitchen only to reappear side by side, holding a giant cake. Everyone starts singing the most disjointed rendition of happy birthday which should be criminal considered they’re all singers, but Changbin doesn’t care. Tears prick in his eyes before the song is even over.

The cake is pink. Impeccably frosted. And it’s dwaekki-themed. Ears, little pigtail and face and all. On the bottom it says, “Happy birthday, Changbin!” and there are at least 10 candles, burning, flickering precariously with every step you take.

You and Hyunjin carry it in together, smiling at him, placing the cake in front of him on the table just when the song ends and Changbin tries his best not to cry. Before you pull away, he can feel your hand on brush against his neck, rubbing your thumb over his skin, then Hyunjin’s stronger one, squeezing his shoulder. They’re small touches, barely anything, but his whole body erupts into goosebumps.

But he doesn’t have time to dwell. Someone hands him the knife, tells him to blow out the candles and make a wish, and he does, wishes that one day he will be able to have his friends back.

They wanted to talk to you.

Changbin tries not to freak out about the prospect of it, but when everyone’s had cake, when Minho and Jisung and Chan are done tidying up the kitchen, and everyone slowly starts to make to leave except for you and Hyunjin, it all becomes a little too real.

“Bin?”

You say his name so sweetly, so quietly.

He turns and is met with you and Hyunjin, who’s hovering behind you, gnawing at his lips nervously.

“C-can we talk?” you ask.

Changbin doesn’t respond. He has the urge to say yes, because you clearly want to. He can see the worry and the stress in your tired eyes, wants to do anything he can to alleviate it, but … he doesn’t know if he can do this. He feels like he’s made of glass and one wrong move will shatter him all over the floor.

“Please, hyung,” Hyunjin mumbles, opens his mouth like he wants to say something else, but Jisung screeching in the hallway, makes him falter. “Just, please?”

So Changbin nods. He tries to regulate his breathing as everyone files out with little waves and hugs and more “happy birthdays”, and even manages to hold it together when Chan hugs him and mumbles “you can call me if anything happens, okay?”, only when the door falls shut behind them, and he’s left alone with you, he starts panicking.

He turns around and finds you exactly where you were before, aimlessly fiddling with one of the containers of leftovers, Hyunjin leaning against the kitchen island, running his hand through his hair for the nth time, his foot tapping the floor nervously.

Changbin can’t stand it any longer.

“I … I can’t be your friend. I’m sorry. I really tried, but I-I can’t,” he forces out, “or maybe I can, one day, but not right now. It hurts too much. You hurt me a lot. I need time.”

You straighten up, a look on your face like you’ve been slapped.

Hyunjin winces, takes a step towards him.

“Hyung, I’m sorry,” he starts, and Changbin’s brows furrow, but Hyunjin just takes another step towards him, “I know, I fucked up, I shouldn’t have just kissed you.”

Changbin freezes, whips his head over to you, but you don’t seem surprised. Quite the opposite. Hyunjin is right in front of him now, his breath puffing against his face, just like it did a few days ago, right before …

“I shouldn’t have done it,” he says, his determined gaze racing all over Changbin’s face, “and I should’ve explained, but it was all so … I was so confused and so unsure because I couldn’t believe you’d really want me …”

“What?!”

His disbelief is genuine. Hyunjin blushes, and nods.

“Y/Nie kept telling me, but I just couldn’t believe it? I thought you were just teasing me all these years. Ironic, because the one person I wanted, didn’t want me back. Because it was always so obvious to me that you wanted her …”

Changbin’s head spins and for a second, he thinks he might pass out. You seem to be able to sense it. You mumble, Hyunjin’s name, who blinks, then takes a quick step back. Changbin feels like he can breathe again.

“Hey, why don’t we take this to your room, Bin?” you say gently, give Hyunjin a look. Hyunjin nods, steps back another few steps, and lets you take Changbin’s hand and drag him back to his room.

You lead him to his bed, make him sit down, Hyunjin immediately taking the spot next to him, just close enough, so his knee rests against the side of Changbin’s thigh when he crosses his long graceful legs underneath him. There’s more space between them now, which Changbin is grateful for, because even just that touch when it’s just the three of you here in his room, makes him a little dizzy.

You don’t sit down, instead you come to stand in front of him. Changbin blinks up at you. He feels like he’s staring straight at the sun.

“We’re sorry, Binnie,” you announce with a deep sigh, giving Changbin a look that melts his heart, “we’re sorry we didn’t talk to you sooner. Everything was so messy, and it took us ages to figure it out between ourselves and … and we didn’t know how much you were hurting, how much we were hurting you. We’re sorry.”

Hyunjin makes a soft sound of agreement next to him.

“The thing is …” you take a deep breath, ”both Hyune and I … we both went into our date with each other trying to get over you.”

Changbin’s whole world tilts on its axis.

“I kinda … I loved you for so long, and I figured you’d never want me back, I honestly always thought you were in love with Hyunjin, ever since you told me about him, but … I don’t know, it’s been like, what 7 years, and you never made a move and when Hyune and I met, there was so much chemistry and I thought maybe, just maybe, I should try, you know? And I didn’t know if it would last or anything, but I was kinda desperate because I really needed to get over you.”

You flush, fidget awkwardly where you stand.

“But then … I don’t know, I fucked up, I kissed you, and we had sex and afterwards it was so obvious how much you regretted it, and it hurt so fucking bad to see, so when Hyunjin kissed me in the museum and my heart nearly beat out of my chest, I, uh, I was so relieved. Like, maybe there was a chance, maybe I could get over you. But I couldn’t … of course not.”

Hyunjin’s hand splays over Changbin’s thigh, and Changbin shivers.

“And neither could I …” he murmurs, voice thick like honey in Changbin’s ears. “I really tried … and I was so confused that on Y/N and my second date, I just kind of … freaked out. Told her I heard you. Told her that I was sorry but also that I wasn’t, because it … it turned me on so bad.”

He breathes out the last words, and Changbin nearly chokes on his spit.

“But also that I was really jealous and that I was pretty sure I was in love with you but also liked her and … well, long story short, we realised in a, uhh, very explicit way, that we were both in the same boat, but also really liked each other … But it almost felt like … something was missing. You were missing.”

Hyunjin moves a little closer, lets his hand trace over Changbin’s arm, down to his wrist, before linking his hands in his.

“And we wanted to talk to you, but then you were so cold to me when we were filming that last SKZ code episode, and I kinda just … lost my head. I got so scared. And I followed you because I wanted to tell you all of this, but you were so angry, and it was so hot, and you kissed me back so hard it knocked any coherent thought out of me and I messed it all up. Chan told me as much, when he came to the other dorm. Yelled at me so loud in front of the others …”

Hyunjin shivers, and you take the break in his rant to sit down on Changbin’s other side.

“When Hyunjin told Chan we wanted to talk to you, he had this big, long dad talk with us, about our feelings and our intentions,” you mumble, and shiver. “He basically gave us the shovel talk, it was scary.”

Hyunjin giggles quietly.

“But the long and short of it is,” you take a deep breath, but it’s shaky. Hyunjin’s hand leaves Changbin’s only for long enough to reach over his lap and squeeze yours, before returning to lace into Changbin’s again. “We wanted to ask you … if there was any possible way you might have feelings for us. Because we do … have, like, a lot of feelings … for you.”

Changbin’s heart feels like it’s about to beat out of his chest. He wants to pinch himself, to make sure he isn’t dreaming, but Hyunjin’s warm presence, his thumb rubbing circles into the back of his hand, your leg jumping nervously, it all feels too real to be a dream.

“It’s okay if you don’t,” you breathe out with an awkward chuckle, “just … you just need to tell us. We didn’t really think that far because we’re both romantics and also both kinda delusional,” you laugh again, though Changbin can hear the sadness, “That’s something we learned about each other in the last weeks. But we’ll figure something out. If you just love Hyune, it’s okay, I … I’m not mad, I promise. At least I’ll know. I just can’t pine over you any longer.”

Changbin’s head whips up so fast he nearly pulls something.

“Is that what you think?”

You shrug, avoid his eyes.

“It seemed pretty obvious,” you mumble, “with how you talked about him from day one. How much you regretted sleeping with me, how you kissed him back …”

You look so devastated, it makes Changbin’s chest ache.

He shakes his head. He reaches for you, his hand as shaky as the day you kissed him, cupping your face. His whole body is thrumming with something he can’t name.

“I … wow, is this real?!” he huffs out, with a disbelieving laugh, “Angel, I’ve been in love with you for years …”

Hyunjin hums approvingly, and Changbin’s face snaps over. Hyunjin is right there, staring at him with wide eyes.

“You …” Changbin mumbles, and Hyunjin’s eyes suddenly widen, almost in fear, “Do you think I would flirt with you for so many years without meaning any of it?! Are you crazy?”

Hyunjin pouts, and Changbin wants to kiss it off him. The thought that he might have wanted him to all along, makes him feel insane.

“Well, you never shut up about her! It was always ‘Y/N this, Y/N that’ and ‘Ah, no, Changbin isn’t coming home until later, he’s at Y/N’s’. At some point, I figured the two of you were together and just didn’t tell anyone.”

Changbin blushes hard, but before he can overthink it, he decides to be brave. He frees his hand from Hyunjin’s reaches up, and pulls Hyunjin into a kiss. Hyunjin squeals into his lips, before he relaxes, presses himself closer, until half his leg is in Changbin’s lap and his hand is ghosting up his back. And then he pulls back, blinks his eyes open and looks past Changbin, and Changbin turns and meets your eyes. Your pupils are blown, and despite all of his words, there’s something so uncertain in your face.

“Come here,” Changbin whispers, and you do. Effortlessly, easily, shimmy forward until he can wrap his arm around your waist and press his lips to yours, and he wonders once more if he’s dreaming, but when Hyunjin’s lips find his neck, your fingers travel over his legs until they find Hyunjin’s …

When Changbin pulls back, he’s dizzy. Hyunjin is all but folded around him, nuzzling his face into Changbin’s neck, and you’re staring at him so intently and Changbin has a hard time figuring out what’s right and wrong.

Hyunjin shifts and Changbin feels him half hard in his pants, and he panics a little bit.

“C-can we … can we just … can we just hang out tonight? Watch something or cuddle, or I don’t know,” he asks, shakily, squeezes his eyes closed, “this is … this is a lot, I think I need a minute.”

Hyunjin pulls back, soothes his hand over Changbin’s back and you nod.

It’s only when the light is off later, the three of you tangled into each other in Changbin’s double bed, that’s just about big enough to hold you all, with you curled up against his chest and Hyunjin’s body plastered against his back, that Hyunjin dares bring it up again.

“This feels right, doesn’t it?” he whispers into the darkness, and Changbin’s heart skips a beat. You giggle and hum out a sleepy yes against his chest, and Changbin can’t even find the words. It does.

It’s scary, so, so scary and new, but it feels right in a way that only his soul can understand.

And his soul? Well, it seems that overnight, it found its way, back to where it belongs – in the spot right next to his beating, aching heart, beating and, maybe, just maybe, if last night wasn’t a dream, no longer aching for you.

And it wasn’t a dream, Changbin notes, with a relief that makes his toes curl. Because before he even opens his eyes he can feel Hyunjin’s hair tickling his nose, your soft arm thrown over his waist, your feet tangled with his, and the sun shining in through the crack in the curtains, and he feels like he’s finally come home.

You stir against his back, arch into him as you stretch, your fingers absentmindedly slipping under his shirt, brushing against the skin of his lower stomach. You nuzzle back against him, press a soft kiss to his back, and he sighs. Gently, he covers your hand and with his, gives it a squeeze that makes you hum softly.

Hyunjin wakes then, too, huffing out a breath, the little pout on his angelic face pulling into a yawn, before he detaches himself from Changbin’s side enough to roll onto his back. Changbin watches as he stretches his arms above his head, cursing Hyunjin because he clearly knows how good he looks like this, the lean muscles in his biceps bulging, his shirt riding up enough to expose his toned stomach, the little trail of dark hair leading into his pants where …

Jesus christ. Changbin had seen Hyunjin naked before, plenty of times, and distantly, he knew Hyunjin wasn’t exactly on the small side, but right here, right now, morning wood impressively hard in just his thin cotton boxers? His cock is fucking massive. The mere thought of getting his hands on him makes Changbin’s own half-hard cock twitch in interest.

And you seem to have felt it, because you chuckle deviously and the hand that was trailing over his stomach dips lower.

Hyunjin blinks his eyes open at the sound of your giggle, a pretty little smile on his face as he faces Changbin, his eyes falling down to where your fingers are tracing the waistband of Changbin’s briefs and he hums.

“Good morning,” he rasps, scoots closer, lets one of his hands trail up Changbin’s arm, up over his shoulder, until he can trace Changbin’s cheek. He’s gentle with it, his eyes constantly on Changbin, watching every single one of his reactions with a loving diligence. But below his gentleness, simmering somewhere deep in his eyes, is a hunger than Changbin has never seen before. His cock is rock hard now, your teasing fingertips keeping him teetering on the brink of insanity.

“Please tell me you haven’t changed your mind …” Hyunjin breathes out, and Changbin huffs out in disbelief. He shakes his head and that’s all Hyunjin needs before he leans in to kiss him, morning breath and all. But Changbin doesn’t care. He’s in his bed, with the sun on his face, your body pressed against him and Hyunjin kissing him. He has never been better.

Your fingers dip underneath his waistband like a question.

“Is this okay?” you ask, your voice a breathless thing against the nape of his neck.

Changbin nods, whines a yes into Hyunjin’s lips, and then your hand wraps around his cock and he moans. Hyunjin sighs happily, pulls back only enough to murmur a pleased little “so loud” against his lips, before he presses closer and kisses him even harder.

It’s mind-blowing how good your simple touches feel, nothing grand, only your bodies pressed together, your hand sliding up and down his cock, Hyunjin’s tongue licking against his.

When Changbin’s hips stutter, Hyunjin makes a noise into his mouth and pulls back. Changbin nearly comes just from the vision of him, eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, his sinfully plump lips bitten, chest rising and falling harshly. He looks like some kind of greek god of sex, even more so when he looks past him, over his shoulder, and then pushes Changbin until he’s all the way on his back.

When Hyunjin grabs you by the chin and pulls you in for a kiss right in front of Changbin, Changbin thinks he might actually still be dreaming because holy shit. You’re greedy, pull Hyunjin in with a hand in his hair and Hyunjin matches you effortlessly, parts his lips, lets you lick into his mouth before he returns the favour, kisses you so filthily, Changbin’s belly does a swoop and his cock twitches pathetically in your hand, that’s still pumping, albeit erratically, too distracted by Hyunjin’s assault on your mouth.

But before long, Hyunjin pulls back and turns his hungry eyes back on Changbin, keeps him pinned to the mattress with them as he shoves the covers aside and slithers down his body.

“Fuck, Hyune-aahhh.”

Changbin’s words are cut off when Hyunjin nudges his nose and open mouth against his clothed cock with a hum that travels all the way up Changbin’s spine. There’s an embarrassing wet spot where the head of his cock is leaking, and it’s only getting wetter by the minute.

"Let me make it up to you, hyungie," Hyunjin purrs.

“I’m not gonna … fuck me sideways,” he moans out when Hyunjin rips his briefs down and off his legs in one fell swoop.

“Some other time, gladly,” Hyunjin teases, and Changbin would’ve made a pathetic sound in the back of his throat if Hyunjin didn’t choose that exact moment to swallow his cock into his hot mouth.

He hollows his cheeks, hums, does a little flick with his tongue against the underside of Changbin’s cock and makes a whole show of rolling his eyes before he pulls off and grins up at Changbin.

“Your cock is so perfect, hyungie,” he teases, and Changbin tries to hide his burning, probably embarrassingly pink, face with a whine, only to awkwardly bump his nose into the side of your face. You giggle.

“What? Don’t like the dirty talk?” you hum, and Changbin gives you a mock glare, one that is horribly interrupted by his eyes rolling into the back of his head when Hyunjin sinks his cock back into his mouth.

“If I’d known … fuck, Hyunjin,” Changbin moans, his hand reaching down, tangling in Hyunjin’s hair, though feeling the bob of his head only makes him hurtle towards his orgasm faster, “if I’d known you had such a mouth on you …”

Hyunjin pulls off again, his eyes watery from the effort, and lets the head of Changbin’s cock rest against his plump bottom lip and smiles up at him. It’s an image that not even Changbin’s filthiest desires could’ve cooked up.

“Then what? You would’ve let me hit sooner?”

His tongue darts out and digs into Changbin’s slit, and Changbin curses. He’s going to come, and soon.

Your fingertips trail under his shirt, up the side of his chest, until they reach his nipple. Your touch makes electricity prickle through his veins, and then you turn his head towards you and your lips find his and Changbin loses any shred of sanity.

He comes with an arch of his back and a strangled moan that’s muffled by your lips, one hand buried in Hyunjin’s hair, the other holding on to your arm for dear life. Pleasure rushes through him so fast he thinks he might black out, his whole body shivering again and again, toes curling, until he has nothing left to give, and he collapses into the pillows, breathing heavily, one arm slung over his face.

Distantly, he feels Hyunjin pull off his cock, and he tries to slur out an apology, one Hyunjin promptly ignores.

“Did he just …” Hyunjin asks, fondness laced through every word.

“Did you just come from kissing me?” you ask with a giggle, but it’s so gentle, so fond, that the embarrassment burning Changbin’s ears can’t even harshen his post-orgasm glow.

Hyunjin giggles, then there’s shuffling. Hyunjin murmurs a quiet “come here, baby” and your warmth disappears from Changbin’s side with one more kiss to his forehead, and then the bed dips on his other. When Changbin lifts his arm and cracks one of his eyes open, he is greeted with the view of you and Hyunjin kissing again, though this time it’s different. A lot softer, more coordinated.

You’re straddling Hyunjin’s waist, one knee on each side of him, draped over his chest, one hand supporting yourself in the pillows next to Hyunjin’s head, the other cupping Hyunjin’s face like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever touched. Hyunjin’s hands on the other hand, are all over you – one smoothing under your shirt and over your belly and, if your gasp is anything to judge by, grabbing your tits, the other on the back of your legs, travelling up and under the boxer shorts you borrowed from Changbin. Changbin can’t see, but when you moan and arch into his hand, he assumes Hyunjin started playing with your pussy.

Changbin’s mouth waters just watching, but then you sit back enough to pull your shirt over your head and do the same to Hyunjin and suddenly, Changbin’s mouth is very, very dry. His cock twitches valiantly.

Skin. So much skin. Your plushness against Hyunjin’s lean, wiry muscles, his strong hands digging divots into your skin, one of them wrapped around your breast, playing with your nipples. Hyunjin is still hard, straining against his boxers, and when you grind forward, dragging your core against the base of his cock, Hyunjin moans, low and melodic and needy.

Changbin’s hard again. It must be some sort of record, but how could he not, with the two most perfect people he has ever seen, making out half naked after sucking soul of out him.

When you scramble off the bed to shuck off your (his, Changbin’s brain supplies unhelpfully) boxers and see him watching you, a smile so gorgeous yet so devious it gives him whiplash, pulls at your lips.

Hyunjin scrambles out of his boxers, too, and Changbin can’t help but stare when Hyunjin’s cock springs free and slaps heavily against his abdomen because fuck, that might be the most beautiful dick he’s ever seen in his life, long and straight, beading precum at the tip. And lord knows he has imagined having Hyunjin every which way, but the thought of him putting that inside him makes Changbin a little more than just dizzy.

Changbin gets distracted by Hyunjin reaching out, wrapping his fingers around his wrist and pulling him closer.

“Get over here,” Hyunjin rasps out, his eyes hooded, and Changbin doesn’t have to be told twice.

He leans in, captures Hyunjin’s lips in his, kisses him with everything he has because, oh god, he can just do this now. He can just kiss Hwang Hyunjin whenever he wants. And Hyunjin seems to like it, because he turns into putty underneath his hands, pliable and pretty, chasing Changbin’s touch until Changbin gives in, runs his palms over his stomach, down, wrapping his hand around his beautiful, heavy cock, and stroking him, swallowing his moans, until Changbin feels the bed dip and your leg against his again. Then he trails his hands up again, over his abs, until he can run his fingers over his pecs. When he brushes over his nipple, Hyunjin gasps, throws his head back.

“Binnie,” you murmur softly, and when he looks over, you sink down on Hyunjin’s cock, taking it all the way to the hilt with a choked moan, your fingernails digging into Hyunjin’s thighs and Changbin nearly comes on the spot. Hyunjin moans prettily, one of his hands finding your waist, eyebrows knitting together in an expression of pleasure-pain that is more gorgeous than anything Changbin has ever seen.

But when he looks over at you, you, with your hair wild, your back arched, goosebumps on your glistening skin as you throw your head back, circle your hips in a slow grind – Changbin is at a loss where to look because surely this cannot be real.

Hyunjin makes the decision for him, whines, demands his attention back by sinking his fingers into Changbin’s hair and yanking him down into his lips so hard pain zaps through Changbin’s scalp, only to be replaced by molten arousal when Hyunjin licks into his mouth like a man starved. And his moans only get louder when you start bouncing on him in earnest, getting up on your knees and letting yourself fall down on Hyunjin’s cock until your legs start shaking.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Hyunjin curses out, his hips bucking up to meet yours with every one of your bounces, and you mewl, falling forward and into Hyunjin’s chest weakly.

“C-can’t, legs h-hurt, p-please,” you whimper, voice so brittle and desperate it sends Changbin into a tailspin. He mashes his lips against yours and Hyunjin moans, plants his feet and starts fucking up into you, and the sound you make is outright obscene. Changbin’s patience snaps, and he reaches down, wraps one hand around himself. The relief of his touch makes him almost delirious.

You’re still kissing him, though it’s more teeth and spit than anything, and then you turn your head and Hyunjin catches you, cradles you against him and fucks up into you harder, until Changbin’s headboard is thudding against the wall in an erratic rhythm that Changbin knows all the neighbours can hear.

“C-close,” you mumble and Hyunjin whimpers into your mouth, turns, drags Changbin closer until his mouth is in the mix, too, and it’s filthy and messy and so entirely uncoordinated that it shouldn’t be hot, but, it is, because Changbin is swapping spit with the two loves of his life.

Somehow, he comes first, spills weakly over his fist as another desperate orgasm racks through him, renders him entirely boneless, watching as Hyunjin ruts into you until you come with a choked moan, muttering Hyunjin’s then Changbin’s name, and Hyunjin’s whole body arches when he follows you over the edge, burying himself in you to the hilt with a weak moan.

Then he collapses, and you along with him, cheek squished against his chest, fucked out and gorgeous, before you slowly let yourself slide off his chest, and into the space between them. You mewl weakly when Hyunjin’s cock slides out of you and his cum starts dripping out of you, a sight that makes stars dance in Changbin’s vision and his spent cock throb.

It’s a little gross. Sweat and cum and spit drying on skin, but neither you nor Hyunjin make any effort to move. And neither does Changbin. So the three of you just lie there, basking in the glory of it all, Hyunjin and your hands linked on his chest, Changbin wrapped around your back, drawing shapes onto Hyunjin’s abs.

“Are we … are we dating now?” you ask into the silence, sheepish, and Hyunjin cracks an eye open, before he turns on his side, presses a kiss to your nose that makes Changbin’s heart flutter.

“I’d be honoured to be your boyfriend,” he murmurs, and Changbin can see your smile mirrored in the one that takes over Hyunjin’s as he looks at you.

Then you turn around, enough to be able to stare up at Changbin.

“What about you? Wanna be my boyfriend, Binnie?”

“And mine!” Hyunjin chirps. You giggle.

“And Hyunjin’s?”

Changbin doesn’t even try to play coy. He smiles, big and uninhibited, so wide he knows his dimples are probably showing, but he doesn’t care.

“I’d love to be your boyfriend,” he says. He means it more than he has ever meant anything in his life. His heart threatens to leap out of his chest.

“And mine?” Hyunjin asks, fluttering his lashes at Changbin with a pretty little pout on his lips.

“And yours, silly,” Changbin laughs out and Hyunjin smiles, leans up to kiss Changbin, then you, watches as Changbin kisses you with a smile on his lips, before he settles back down, cuddles back up to you. Changbin yawns.

“We should shower …” he says, half-heartedly, but you huff, pull his arm closer around you.

“Just … a few more minutes,” you mumble, and Changbin can hear the sleep already tugging at your consciousness.

“Yeah, this is nice,” Hyunjin adds, scoots closer until his forehead is resting against yours on the pillow. His eyes are already closed.

And Changbin? Well, what is he going to do. He ignores the stickiness between his legs in favour of the soft body of his love in his arms, and when sleep tugs at his consciousness, beckoned by Hyunjin’s soft snores, he lets it overtake him. They can always shower later. They have all the time in the world now.

A year later, on his birthday, they’re all out together at a Korean BBQ place, one that Jisung and Minho go to so often that they’ve become friends with the owners, and always get a private room in the back where they can truly have privacy.

You and Hyunjin disappear after the meat is all eaten, and then you walk back in, moments later, side by side, holding a giant cake. Everyone sings happy birthday.

The cake has a picture of the three of you on it, because his birthday is now also partly your anniversary. You usually celebrate twice, though. Not like any of you need an excuse to be sappy and romantic on any given day. You may be the sappiest couple, or throuple, Changbin knows. He loves every second of it.

In the picture on the cake, Changbin is standing in between you two, Hyunjin’s arm slung around his shoulders, you folded into his side. You took it at Namsan Tower a couple of months ago, asked a stranger to take it in front of the famous hearts, giggling when you pulled down your masks and the stranger looked confused, like he was trying to figure out where he knew you from. It was a beautiful night. You ate ice cream and stole sticky sweet kisses in alleyways and behind trees and then went home and fucked each other’s brains out until Jisung was pounding on the wall separating his room from Hyunjin’s begging you to stop.

You place the cake down on the table in front of him as the song ends. Someone tells him to blow out the candles and make a wish. He blows them out and wishes this – you, Changbin and Hyunjin – will last forever.

Everyone cheers, you squeal, wrap your arms around his shoulders from behind. Hyunjin sits back down at his place to Changbin’s right and laces his fingers with his. He gives Changbin the biggest, fondest, smile, and leans in until he's cuddled into his side. Changbin’s heart melts.

You pepper sweet little kisses all over his cheek and over his neck.

“Happy birthday, Binnie,” you whisper, happiness evident in your voice. “I love you so much.”

skzms masterlist // ko-fi star dividers just for me by the lovely @lunarvue - thank you, my love!!

GENERAL TAGLIST OPEN 🔖 (please be 18+ and have your age in your bio, otherwise I won't add you)

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baby gorls | chan’s exclusive onlyfans

ONE ♡ new set

TWO ♡ tinder match

THREE ♡ dork ✎

FOUR ♡ PICNIC DATE?!?!

FIVE ♡ he’s just sarcastic

SIX ♡ hickeys

SEVEN ♡ two fav aussies

EIGHT ♡ it was a joke

NINE ♡ baby...

TEN ♡ make you mine✎

ELEVEN ♡ changbin approval

TWELVE ♡ so lucky

THIRTEEN ♡ chaotic with my girlfriend

FOURTEEN ♡ sugar daddy

FIFTEEN ♡ an idea

SIXTEEN♡ curiosity

SEVENTEEN ♡ date night

EIGHTEEN ♡ enjoy ourselves✎

NINETEEN ♡ bbq

TWENTY ♡ someones possessive

TWENTY ONE ♡ it’s up to you baby

FINI

And somehow, you're the one he's set his sights on. The competition is obvious, like the electricity in the air before a storm, and the entire college is buzzed with bets. It's impossible to ignore the excitement at the thought of the race tonight. It's been too long since you've felt this alive.

The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline is already in your nose, a scent that brings back a flood of memories. The first time you felt the wind rush past you on two wheels, the rush of adrenaline when you crossed the finish line ahead of the pack. 

The races had been your escape, your way to prove to the world that you were more than just another face in the crowd. 

And now, as you lace up your boots and slip into your worn-in leather jacket, you know that this race will be different. It's not just about the thrill anymore. It's about pride, about maintaining your title, about showing Mingyu that he's bitten off more than he can chew.

The stakes are higher than ever before. You can feel it in the way Mark's eyes darken every time he looks at you, in the way he clenches his fists when Mingyu's name is mentioned.

As you swing your leg over your bike and rev the engine, you push those thoughts aside. Tonight, there's only one thing that matters: the race, the roar of the engines, and the taste of victory.

Mingyu's eyes sparkle inside his helmet, the gleaming visor reflecting the neon lights of the college parking lot that's been transformed into a makeshift race track. He's young, fearless, and he's got something to prove. 

You've watched him from afar, studied his technique, his daring moves that have earned him the title of 'the rookie to watch'. He's good, really good, but he's never raced against someone like you. You're the old war-horse in this game, a veteran who's seen it all and done it all. 

And now, the moment has arrived.

The girl in the quadriculed flag raises it high, her arm muscles taut with excitement. You and Mingyu lock eyes for a brief second, a silent promise of a fierce battle to come. And then, with a nod from her, you both speed off into the night. Your bike responds to your touch like a well-trained steed, the engine purring as you lean into the first turn.

But this is your turf, and you're not about to let some newcomer take your crown without a fight.

As the race extends, the wind whips through your hair, and the roar of the engines fills your ears. The world around you is a blur of lights and shadows, the only thing clear being the track ahead and the figure of Mingyu on your tail. 

You push harder, feeling the bike protest under your command, but she holds steady. You're the lead, with Mingyu playing the role of the eager suitor, eager to overtake. You can't help but smile beneath your helmet. It's been so long since someone's made you feel this alive. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating, and you're going to enjoy every second of it.

As you cross the finish line, you pull a dramatic wheelie, the tires screeching and smoking against the asphalt. You circle around, revving the engine, feeling the power beneath you, and as you come to a stop, Mingyu pulls up beside you. 

You both remove your helmets, and the chilly night air kisses your sweat-drenched skin. His eyes are on you, focused and intense, drinking in the sight of you. Your hair is a wild mess around your face, the wind from the race playing with it like it's alive.

You swing your leg over the bike, the leather of your pants hugging your thighs tightly. You stand there, arms crossed over your chest, looking at him. He's tall, with a muscular build that's clear even through his bulky racing gear. His face is a mask of determination, and there's something about the way he carries himself that makes you want to knock him down a peg.

"So, what's your name, kid?" you ask, your voice carrying over the din of the engines.

Mingyu's face cracks into a smirk, and he extends his hand towards you. "Mingyu. Kim Mingyu," he says, his voice deep and sure. But you don't take the bait. You keep your arms crossed, your eyes locked on his.

His smirk falters a little when you ignore his outstretched hand, and he slowly lowers it. 

The crowd around you goes quiet, watching this silent exchange like it's a scene from a movie. They know the history, the tension, and the unspoken challenge that's just been laid down.

"Well, you must know me," you say, the leather jacket creaks as you tighten your grip. 

"I know of you," he says, his language tinged with a hint of an accent. "But I'm not here to bow down to reputations. I'm here to make my own." You can't help but respect that.

The crowd around you is hushed, waiting for the next move. Mark is there, his eyes on you, a silent question in his gaze. You give him a nod, reassuring him that you're okay, that you're in control.

 The rivalry between you and Mingyu has only just started, and it's going to be one hell of a race.

Mark storms over, eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell are you two talking about for so long?" His voice cuts through the cheers of the crowd, drawing their attention. You feel the tension between him and Mingyu, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap.

Mingyu just watches him with that sly grin, clearly enjoying the show. His gaze flickers over you, lingering on your leather pants, and you feel a shiver of annoyance and something else you can't quite name.

"Hey, Mark," you say, trying to keep your tone light, but there's an edge to it. "Calm down. We were just talking."

"Talking? That's what you're calling it?" Mark's voice is loud, drawing even more eyes to your little drama. He turns to Mingyu, his face red. "And what are you looking at?"

You roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Mark, walk."

He stares at you, eyes wide in disbelief. "What?"

"Yeah, walk," you repeat, your voice firm. "Just go cool off."

For a moment, it looks like he might argue, but then he glances at Mingyu, who’s still smirking, clearly enjoying the spectacle. With a huff, Mark turns on his heel and stalks off, the crowd parting to let him through.

Mingyu chuckles, a low sound that only you can hear. "What an obedient boyfriend you have."

You shoot him a look, half warning, half curiosity. "Don't push your luck, Mingyu."

He raises his hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. "Just calling it like I see it. But seriously," his tone shifts, becoming more sincere, "you were amazing out there."

"Thanks," you say, the word coming out more curt than you intended. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension from Mark's outburst. "So, why did you want to race me, really?"

Mingyu’s expression becomes thoughtful, the cocky façade slipping just a little. "Because I wanted to see if the rumors were true. And now, I know they are."

You can't help but smile at that, feeling a rush of pride. "Well, you gave me a good run for my money."

"Next time," he says, his voice low and filled with promise, "I'll be the one crossing the finish line first."

"We'll see about that," you reply, walking out with your motorcycle by your side, glancing at him over your shoulder. 

[...]

Mingyu, the new kid, had something different, something that pushed your limits in a way no other rival had before. It was exhilarating, but also stressful. And your boyfriend’s incessant comments about Mingyu didn’t help.

Every time he brought up how Mingyu looked at you, how rude he was, how he thought he was the most incredible thing, you rolled your eyes. Mark’s jealousy was nothing new, but you’d never seen him so uncomfortable around someone before.

For the past month, you’d heard from other students that Mingyu had been spreading rumors about how he was going to win this race, no matter what. It was irritating, but also a challenge you couldn’t ignore.

As you were heading to your P.E. class, you saw Mingyu and his friend walking down the hallway. He spotted you immediately, a grin spreading across his face.

"Look who's here, Y/N... without the leather jacket?" His eyes roved over your tight gymnastic clothing, clearly enjoying the sight.

You smiled around the scrunchie you held between your teeth as you tidied up your hair, then pulled it free to tie it up. "Look who’s here, Mingyu... still talking big?" you teased back, not missing a beat.

He laughed, a rich sound that echoed down the hall. "Only because I’ve got the skills to back it up."

"Oh, really?" you said, raising an eyebrow. "All I’ve seen so far is a lot of talk."

"Maybe you just haven’t been paying close enough attention," he replied, leaning casually against the lockers. "I’ll make sure to give you a front-row seat next time."

You finished tying your hair and gave him a mock look of concern. "I’d hate to see you disappoint all those fans you’ve been bragging to."

He smirked, undeterred. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered. You might want to start thinking about a new title because that crown is coming my way."

"Big words for someone who hasn't beaten me yet," you shot back, stepping closer, your confidence unwavering.

"We'll see about that," he said, his voice low and filled with promise. His eyes held yours for a moment longer, the air between you crackling with tension.

Mingyu doesn't look the least bit afraid of you, of your reputation, of what you can do on this track. He's bold, maybe even a little cocky, and you can't decide if you like it or if it just makes you want to wipe that smug look off his face. 

You've always been the one everyone looks up to, the one they whisper about in the halls. But now, there's someone new, someone who doesn't seem to know his place. And that's what makes him so intriguing.

You know Mingyu will be back, and he'll be better next time. And you can tell your boyfriend, Mark, is not happy about this new rivalry一about the way Mingyu makes you feel alive again.

"You've got to get your head out of the clouds, Y/N," Mark says as you look to the ceiling, "This isn't just a game anymore."

You pull back, looking up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Mingyu," he says, his voice tight with anger, "he's different. He's not like the others."

You roll your eyes, trying to play it off. "He's just a freshman with a fast bike," you say.

"He's been watching you," Mark says, his eyes searching yours, "studying you. He's got a vendetta, and I don't like it."

You swallow hard, pushing the thought away. You can't let Mingyu get under your skin like this. "I've got this," you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

But Mark's not convinced. He's noticed the way your mind has been elsewhere, the way you've been pushing him away. The way you've been turning down his advances, lost in thought about the new kid on the block. He's been frustrated for a few weeks, trying to get you to focus on anything other than the race. 

As the days pass, the tension between you and Mark grows thicker. He tries to initiate sex, but your mind is always elsewhere, replaying the race, thinking about Mingyu's next move. You know you're hurting him, but you can't seem to stop.

 The thought of Mingyu, of the way he looked at you, of the way he talked about winning, it's like a drug. And you're hooked.

The next day, you're in the garage, wrench in hand, making some final adjustments to your bike. You've always been meticulous, but with Mingyu on your mind, you're even more so. You can't have anything going wrong on your bike when you face him again.

The door to the garage opens, and you look up, expecting it to be Mark, but instead, it's Mingyu. He struts in, his leather jacket and bike helmet hanging casually from his hand.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I see you're still playing with your toy."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to hide your annoyance. "What do you want?" you ask, not looking up from your work.

"Just thought I'd come by and say congrats," he says, leaning against the workbench. "You put on a good show last night."

You raced a senior from your class last night. You won despite the slippery concrete caused by the rain. Again.

You slam the wrench down, the sound echoing in the empty garage. "Thanks, but I'm not looking for your approval," you reply, your voice icy.

Mingyu laughs, a sound that grates on your nerves. "You don't have to be so defensive," he says, his eyes scanning the garage, "I just wanted to talk shop, maybe pick up some tips from the queen herself."

You stand up, wiping your hands on your greasy rag. "What makes you think I'd share anything with you?"

He shrugs, his smile never wavering. "Call it a peace offering," he says, holding out his hand. "Truce?"

You stare at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. You know you need to keep your enemies closer, especially one as talented as Mingyu. You take his hand, giving it a firm shake. "Fine," you say, "but don't get any ideas."

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas," he says, his eyes glinting with mischief, "but I'll save them for the track."

You can't help but laugh, despite yourself. He's got nerve, you'll give him that. You spend the next hour talking bikes and racing strategies, and for the first time since the race, you feel like you're not just a competitor but a fellow enthusiast. It's strange.

As Mingyu leaves, you can't help but feel a blend of emotions. There's the excitement of the challenge he represents, the thrill of the rivalry that's been ignited. But there's also a nagging doubt, a fear that maybe Mark is right. 

Maybe Mingyu isn't just a racer looking to make a name for himself. Maybe he's got something more planned, something that could threaten not just your title but your relationship. 

You shake the thought off, telling yourself you're just being paranoid. After all, it's just a race, right?

[...]

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the makeshift circuit that’s been built for tonight's race. You take a long sip of your Gatorade, savoring the cool taste as you mentally prepare yourself for the competition. The grandstand is buzzing with energy, students excitedly chattering about the upcoming event.

As you sit there, focusing on your breathing, Mingyu appears and casually sits down next to you. You chuckle, unable to help yourself. "Are you following me, kid?"

He rolls his eyes, a familiar gesture by now. "I’m not a kid."

"But I’m your senior," you counter, grinning at the way his face sours. He’s always so easy to tease. "What did you plan?"

"Huh?" He seems genuinely confused, his attention now fully on you.

You smirk, leaning back a bit. "What do you have up your sleeve, Mingyu? Some oil on the floor, a pin in my tire...?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "I don’t need tricks to beat you."

"Good," you say, your voice dropping slightly, more serious now. "Because neither do I."

Before the conversation can go any further, your boyfriend, Mark, appears. "What’s he doing here?" he asks, his tone accusatory.

"Just talking," you reply, trying to keep your cool.

"Talking, huh?" Mark scoffs. "Seems like he’s always around, doesn’t it? You’d think he’s got nothing better to do."

"I think you’re overreacting." You breath tired. 

Mark's eyes narrow. "Just remember who’s waiting for you at the finish line."

Mingyu’s jaw tightens at this, his posture stiffening. He looks like he’s holding back something, a secret or a truth he’s not ready to share.

You glance at Mingyu, noticing the shift in his conduct. "What’s that look for?" you ask him, curious despite yourself.

He shakes his head, the tension in his body evident. "Nothing. Just focus on the race."

You button your jacket, feeling the familiar weight of the leather settle around your shoulders. Checking your shoelaces, you make sure they’re tight, ready for the race ahead. The buzz of your phone breaks the moment, a single notification lighting up the screen. You glance around, noticing other students doing the same, pulling their phones from their pockets.

It’s odd, almost synchronized.

The feeling in your gut is like a rock, weighing you down, making it harder to breathe. You glance around, noticing the smirks and knowing looks from the other racers, the whispers that seem to carry on the wind. 

You click on it, and your heart sinks like a stone. It's a picture of Mark, your Mark, kissing a girl. A girl with auburn hair and a laugh that's nothing like yours. And he's wearing the shirt you gave him just this week, the one with the funny racing pun on the back. The same shirt he wore to bed last night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

You stand there, frozen, as the world carries on around you. The cheers of the crowd, the roar of the bikes—it’s all just background noise now. You look up and see everyone watching you, their expressions a combination of pity and shock. They all know now. They've all seen it.

And as your eyes meet Mingyu's, you realize that he knows too. There's something in his gaze, a glint of satisfaction that makes your blood boil. Did he do this? Did he send this to you? The thought is like a knife twisting in your gut, but you can’t be sure.

With trembling hands, you slip the phone back into your pocket, trying to compose yourself. You don’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart. But as you button your jacket and tighten the laces of your boots, you can’t help but feel like you’re tying up the loose ends of your life. 

Everything’s changed in the span of a single message. Your heart is racing, but it’s not from the thrill of the chase anymore. It stems from the agony of disloyalty and the rage at being played for a fool.

And as you turn to face Mark, who’s pushing his way through the crowd, his eyes searching for yours, you know that the real race has only just begun.

Your breath comes in shudders as you hop on your bike, putting on your helmet. You’ve give all the signs that you are going to race tonight. The crowd is abuzz with anticipation, their eyes locked on you. 

You roll the bike's accelerator, the roar calling for attention so the race can start. The flag girl gulps, her nervousness evident, and you look over your shoulder to see Mingyu approaching.

The girl stretches the flag, and you brace yourself. The lights go out, and suddenly, you're off, the wind in your hair, the roar of the engines filling your ears. Mingyu is right beside you. You can feel the bike responding to your every move, the tires gripping the asphalt like a vice. 

Inside your helmet, your breathing is loud and ragged, a stark reminder of the adrenaline and anger coursing through you.

As you race, your thoughts race too. Mingyu planned everything. He sat by your side to watch you unravel from Mark's jealous crisis, and then those messages minutes before the race start—meant to destabilize you. It’s like a puzzle clicking into place, each piece revealing the depth of his strategy.

The bike protests but holds steady as you apply more pressure. The track is a blur, but your focus is razor-sharp. Mingyu is still there, matching your speed, but you’re not going to let him win.

You replay the moment when you first saw the message, the image of Mark kissing another girl. It stings, but it also sets you aflame. How dare he think he can break you? How dare he underestimate you? You’re not just racing against Mingyu; you’re racing against the doubts and whispers.

Mingyu pulls ahead slightly, his bike edging past yours. You grit your teeth, leaning forward to reduce drag, pushing your bike to its limits. The sound of the engines is loud, the wind whipping past you. 

You glance at Mingyu. He thinks he won, that his plan worked. But he doesn’t know you. 

You see the final stretch approaching, the finish line within sight. You dig deep, finding that last reserve of strength. You and Mingyu are neck and neck, the crowd’s cheers blending into a single roar. The world narrows to just this moment, just this race.

As you cross the finish line, you throw all your weight into one last burst of speed. You cross the line a split second before Mingyu, the crowd exploding into cheers.

You slow down, the realization of your win sinking in. You did it. Despite everything, you did it. But still, there is no taste of victory in your mouth.

The cheers fade as you lean forward, gripping the handlebars, and ride your bike away from the circuit, leaving a cloud of dust behind you. The streets blur past you, seeking an escape from everything. Your dorm or campus are the last place you want to be tonight.

After what feels like hours, you spot a cheap motel by the roadside. Its flickering neon sign is a welcome sight, a promise of anonymity, and a place to rest. You pull in, park your bike and walk to the reception. The clerk barely looks up as you hand over cash for the night. Key in hand, you head to your room.

The room is small and poorly illuminated, but it’s a refuge from the chaos of the night. You lay on the bed, the springs creaking under you, and pull out your phone. The screen is still lit with notifications, but you don’t want to see any of them. Whether it was Mingyu or someone else who shared those photos, you don’t care. Not tonight.

[...]

The weekend drags by, each minute feeling like an eternity. You don’t go to class, don’t leave your dorm except to grab food from the vending machine, because, you can’t face the pity in your friends’ eyes.

You clean obsessively, organizing your bookshelf, scrubbing the floors, folding clothes into neat piles. It’s a futile attempt to regain some semblance of order in your life. It feels like you’re erasing him from your life, one item at a time.

The notifications on your phone keep popping up, your friends and classmates checking in, asking if you’re okay. You manage to reply with short, curt responses. "Yeah," you type, "Just need some space." The lie feels heavy on your fingertips, but it’s easier than explaining the tornado of emotions inside you.

As the day stretches on, you start to feel a little more in control. You’re not going to let this beat you. You’re not going to let Mark or Mingyu ruin what you’ve built. 

So you sit there, in the quiet of your room, and you start to plan. You’re going to show up to class, to the next race, with your head held high. You’re going to leave the drama behind and focus on what you do best—race.

On Thursday, you walk into class, a box in your arms. The whispers start as soon as you enter the room, the eyes are on you like a spotlight. You find Mark’s usual seat and drop the box in front of it, the thud echoing in the stunned silence.

The box, with his things.

You don’t wait for his reaction. You don’t need to. You turn and walk out, leaving the whispers and the weight of his backstabbing behind.

At lunch, you sit with your friends, the same table you’ve shared since freshman year. They all look at you, their eyes filled with concern. "You okay?" one of them asks, tentatively.

You nod, trying to put on a brave face. "Yeah," you say, your voice stronger than you feel, "I just needed some time to sort things out."

They all nod, understanding without needing the details. They know the score, they know what happened at the race. They know about the picture, the rumors, the cheating.

"You've cried enough," your best friend says, her voice firm but gentle, "It's like that bruise on your knee from when you were seven. It hurt like hell, but it's healing now."

You manage a small smile at the memory. It’s true. You’ve shed enough tears over Mark to fill an ocean. But here you are, breathing, standing, moving forward.

"Let’s talk about something else," you say, changing the subject. "What's new with all of you?"

They exchange glances, clearly surprised by your sudden shift in tone, but they follow your lead. They talk about their classes, their weekends, their plans for spring break. You listen, really listen, letting their words wash over you like a balm to your soul.

"Oh, and apparently none of Mark’s friends want to talk to him," someone says, almost as an afterthought. "They had no idea."

"Good," you say. "He’s not worth their time either."

Your friends nod, respecting your wishes to not delve into the drama further. You don’t need their pity or their empathy. You just need them to be there, to be the rock that grounds you.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and you all stand up, collecting your trash. "Thanks, guys," you say, your voice genuine.

"For what?" one of them asks.

"For not treating me like I’m made of glass." you reply, smiling.

They laugh, you know they’re worried, but you also know they trust you to handle this. You’re the same person you were before the race. You’re strong.

The sadness has morphed into something else, anger simmers just under the surface, a slow burn that’s been building since that message. You’re not just mad at Mark, but at Mingyu too. You don’t know his role in this, but you can feel his influence, the way he’s been poking and prodding, trying to get under your skin.

And now, it’s like a game of chess, and you’re the pawn in the middle of the board. You can’t help but wonder if he’s been playing you from the start. If all those smirks and smug looks were just part of his plan to take you down.

The bell rings, and you grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you feel a hand wrap around your arm. You turn, ready to snap, and find yourself face-to-face with Mingyu. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, don’t be grumpy. Running away from me, princess?” he says, a sulky look on his face.

You remember avoiding both Mingyu and Mark all day, doing everything to keep your distance. You start to leave, but he holds onto your arm again, making you huff in frustration.

“You should thank me, don’t you think?” he says, his tone teasing.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Mingyu smirks. “First, I let you win last Saturday,” he says, lying through his teeth. You remember how he was right on your tail during the race, clearly giving it his all.

“And I got you rid of that asshole,” he adds.

You cross your arms, glaring at him. “So, you’re admitting you orchestrated this whole thing, huh?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, I warned him it would happen.”

“He knew?” you ask, your voice rising in disbelief.

Mingyu tilts his head slightly, like he’s stating the obvious. “Of course he knew. Y/N, he was cheating on you for a whole semester. At the first freshman party I went to, I saw him with Sayla. She’s from my class.”

“What?” you nearly shout, drawing the attention of nearby students. Mingyu gives you an exasperated look, like it’s common knowledge.

You grab his arm and drag him around campus, heading for the grandstand where you can talk in private. Once there, you turn to him, your eyes blazing with anger.

“I saw the photo, and I know it’s real. But Mingyu, if you’re lying about this, I swear I will fucking kill you.”

He shakes his head, his expression serious. “Why would I lie to you? If I need to tell you something, I’ll say it to your face.”

“Tell me from the beginning,” you demand, crossing your arms.

He rolls his eyes but starts talking. “Well, it was my first party here, a freshman party. I needed to go to the bathroom, and there they were, making out.”

You make a disgusted face, which seems to amuse him. “But in the photo, they weren’t in a bathroom,” you point out.

“Yeah, it happened plenty of times. When I found out he was your boyfriend, I went to a frat party and took that photo,” Mingyu explains.

“That one?” you ask, referring to the incriminating photo.

Mingyu nods. “Yeah, that one. He saw the photo and came to have it out with me. I might have told him that if he didn’t tell you, I would, and that I would love to take care of his girlfriend.”

You scoff. “So that’s why he was so sick-jealous of me?”

Mingyu closes his eyes and nods like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You curse under your breath, feeling the weight of betrayal all over again. “This motherf—”

You stop, looking at Mingyu, who’s watching you with a confused expression. “What do you mean by ‘take care of his girlfriend’?”

Mingyu smirks. “I was interested in you. But when I found out you were dating, I backed off. When I saw your boyfriend slacking, I needed to make it clear to Mark that I was going to reach out to you somehow.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the audacity of it all making your blood boil. “So, you’ve been planning this from the start?”

“Not exactly,” Mingyu says, shrugging. “But I saw an opportunity and took it. Your boyfriend was a dick, and you deserve better.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “And you think you’re better?”

Mingyu’s is smug. “I know I am.”

“And what makes you think I’d be interested in you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.

Mingyu steps closer, his gaze intense. “You’re fierce, competitive, and you don’t take shit from anyone. You’re exactly the kind of challenge I like.”

You roll your eyes, though a small part of you is flattered? “You’re still an asshole.”

He grins. “Maybe, but at least I’m honest about it. Can’t say the same for Mark.”

You take a deep breath, trying to process everything. "Mingyu, just stay out of my way. I don’t need any more complications.”

“What can I say? I know what I want.” He shrugs before leaving, again, with that stupid smirk on his face. 

[...]

You were dragged by your friends to every party on campus, parties you didn’t even know existed, every day a new one. According to them, you needed to enjoy your new ‘single’ life. And with all the guys on campus now aware that you were single, your DMs were flooded. 

Tonight was one of those nights. Everyone saw you parking your motorcycle in front of the frat house, the rumble announcing your arrival. You danced with your friends, met new people, but your happiness didn’t last long.

You caught a glimpse of Mark and Sayla. Sayla was wearing one of his baseball jackets, his arm draped over her shoulder. Everyone stared at them, the ‘new’ couple making a fool of themselves. 

You didn’t expect Mark to be so bald-faced about it. Your blood boiled, your head felt like it was on fire, and you wanted to leave the party. But if you did, you’d look weak. So you stayed, trying to enjoy the party with your friends, but it was impossible. When Mark kissed Sayla, one eye open in your direction to gauge your reaction, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed your helmet and stormed out of the party, your friends calling after you, warning you not to do anything stupid because you were hot-headed. 

And you were, for real. 

Arriving back on campus, you pulled out your phone, fingers fumbling as you dialed a number. Your steps echoed, the dress you’d chosen for the party riding up with each step, making you pull it down in frustration.

The phone rang, and rang, until finally, a voice answered, “You calling me? Y/N, what a—”

“Where are you?” you cut him off, voice trembling with rage.

“Damn, what happened to ‘hello, how are you?’” The voice was playful, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Where. Are. You.”

“Hell, I’m at my dorm, wassup?”

“Open the door,” you demanded.

“What?”

“Open the fucking door,” you said before hanging up.

Moments later, the dorm door opened, revealing Mingyu with the phone still in his hand, wearing only black shorts that showed a peek of his white underwear. He looked confused, but when he saw you—eyes almost black with rage, in your little dress—he swore it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe.

You pushed him inside, slamming the door shut behind you and tossing your cell phone on the table. You kissed him, rough and urgent, your fingers tangling in his hair. Mingyu moaned between kisses, the realization that you were kissing him sinking in. His hands found your waist, one hand sliding up to your neck, choking you slightly, making you gasp.

A smirk played on his lips, between breaths. “About time you admitted it.”

“Shut up,” you muttered before kissing him again, harder this time.

Mingyu's grip tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re so damn hot when you’re mad,” he murmured against your lips.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you demanded, your fingers tugging at his hair.

He obliged, kissing you with a fervor that matched your own. His hand slid down your back, gripping your ass and pulling you against him. You could feel his bulge pressing against you, a reminder of how much he wanted you. You broke the kiss, breathlessly, your eyes locking onto his.

“What’s your plan, Y/N?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

You smirked, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “To make sure I don’t think about Mark ever again.”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened with craving. “I can help with that.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him back into a kiss, your hands exploring his body, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, fingers fumbling from his big chest, to the defined lines of his abs.

Your hand slides from his lower belly to his cock, squeezing his clothed erection slightly. You feel him twitch in your hand, a broken sob leaving his lips.

“Fuck, you got hard so fast,” you murmur against his mouth.

He moans, his breath hot and heavy. “Can’t help it when it’s you.”

You grin wickedly, turning around to show him the long zipper at the back of your dress. “Help me,” you say, your voice low and inviting.

Mingyu nods, his eyes dark with desire. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as he catches the zipper and slides it down, his happiness akin to opening a Christmas gift. The dress falls away, and you hold your breasts in your hands, turning to face him, your fingers playing with your hardened nipples, watching his eyebrows furrow.

His hot hand covers yours, and you let him take over, feeling the heat of his touch. He pushes you toward the bed, his lips trailing kisses down your neck before biting gently, his notorious fangs grazing your sensitive skin. 

You moan, the sound going straight to his cock. His hands move desperately to your panties, fingers fumbling with the lace until they’re off your legs. He opens your legs with his hands, giving your wet folds a not-so-discreet look.

Mingyu licks his fingers, meeting your eyes before sliding them inside you. You scream at the sudden stretch, feeling his big fingers filling you. He looks at you, to see if it hurts, but then he feels you getting wetter and wetter, your pants filling the room. His hand stills, and you roll your clit against his palm.

His fingers start to slide in and out, the wet noises are sinful as he finds your g'spot. You gasp, your body arching from his bedsheets, your both hands finding his forearm, stilling his fingers curled in this position. 

Mingyu's eyes widen in surprise at your reaction, and he repeats the motion, pressing against your sweet spot again, making your eyes fill with tears. 

''R-right here! Please!" 

“Did your boyfriend never find this spot?” he asks, his voice serious.

You shake your head negatively, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. 

Mingyu's expression hardens, anger flashing in his eyes. “That asshole didn’t know how to please you,” he mutters, then his voice softens as he coos at you. 

You sob, his fingers curling repeatedly on the spongy spot. “Aw… don’t worry, my love. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

He continues to stimulate you, watching your every reaction, your pleasure nourishing his own. His fingers work you expertly, and you start to get embarrassed by how wet you are getting.

But you can't stop your hips from rubbing against his hands, you can't stop yourself from constantly moaning his name, and you can't help but wonder how you survived without feeling the pleasure Mingyu was giving you.  

Your body tenses so much, you're afraid of getting injured, and the pleasure builds, making your vision blurry, catching only Mingyu's silhouette. “Mingyu…,” you gasp, your voice shaking.

He's in love with your sensitive form. He slides his fingers out, brushing against your clit, making you moan, wanting the stimulation again, but then he munches on your pussy, making a throaty moan leave your mouth, tears wetting your cheeks. You don't even know if you're sobbing or moaning. You can only focus on his warm mouth sucking everything it can. 

Mingyu moans against you, like he's getting stimulated too, and when you manage to squeak out, “Gonna' cum,” he moans even more, the vibrations going to your clit as you arch your back, squeezing your tits. 

He opens your legs—quivering pathetically around his head—with the strength of his arms. He only stops when he feels your clit throbbing incessantly inside his mouth, all sensitive.

You don't know how long it took before you were in your mind again, but you can feel Mingyu kissing your whole body. For him, it was a maxim to calm you down, but mainly to appreciate every bit of your skin. When you open your eyes, he's kissing your hand, his thumb gently caressing it. You don't look much, or you will blush. For him, it could finish like this: you cummed, satisfied, and he gets satisfied. But then you mumble, eyes lidded, “Fuck me, please.”

His eyes almost fall from his skull. He watches your legs spread, and you slap weakly at your pussy, inviting him. Mingyu almost falls back with your tease. His hands, lowering his shorts and underwear in one go, desperate to go over you.

"Wait." 

He stills, and you smile at his obedience. You turn around, on all fours, wiggling your ass at him, and you hear a suffered moan behind you, making you scoff. 

He squeezes your ass between his hands tightly, then slaps your meat, making you hiss. Then another one, making you moan. Then another one, making you drip a line of your cum on the sheets.

Mingyu feels like a crazy creature. He pumps his veiny cock before sliding on your wet folds to spread your cum. And then slides inside. You were so tight, so tight that his blood pressure almost falls down. 

“I need to thank your boyfriend for keeping it tight.” He groans after bottoming out.

You widen your eyes at the comment, he sounded so sincere. And you laugh, your hand covering your face, and he chuckles too, seeing that he can't hold his tongue around you.

He can feel you clenching around him every time you laugh, making him moan synchronized with you. He starts to move and your laughs turn into moans, laughed-moans.

“Shit, you’re so tight, you are squeezing me,” he cries, his thrusts slow and deep.

“Didn’t think you’d be this talkative,” you manage between gasps, your body responding to every move he makes.

“Can’t help it,” he breathes, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. 

His pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. You grip the sheets, your back arching as he hits just the right spot. “Right there, Mingyu. Fuck, right there.”

He obeys, his thrusts becoming more precise, each one sending thrills through your body. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. “So fucking good.”

"Seriously, Mingyu," continue betwee moans, "you have no filter."

He grins, thrusting harder. "You're too much."

"Too much for you?" you tease, pushing back against him.

"Never," he mooans, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "I could do this forever."

You moan at his words, that feeling on your stomach tightening. "God, Mingyu..."

He leans over, his breath hot against your ear. "You like it when I talk, hm? When I say, how good you feel?"

You nod frantically, your mind a blur, you were cock-drunk, moaning his name like it was the only word you ever knew.

He chuckles darkly, thrusting deeper. "Good, because I’m not stopping until you can’t even say his name."

He stops his hips inside you, balls deep, and you can feel his tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips to make you feel it deep. Your arms quiver, making you fall with your chest on the bed, face on the sheets. You've never felt someone this deep before. Your hand reaches the bulge Mingyu makes on your belly, and you writhe.

He dirty talks, "You like to feel me here?"

You answer with a throaty moan. He closes his eyes to your rough moan and says, "Fuck, I need to see your pretty face moaning my name."

He turns you to lay on the bed again, one of your legs on his shoulder, and the other stretched by his hand. Since when were you this flexible? you think. When he slams inside you again, your messy cunt clings to him for dear life.

You moan all sly, and Mingyu is inches from your face now, and he teases you, "Look who's all sensitive right now. Where's that grumpy girl from the race? Hm? You just needed a good cock fucking you right to get you relaxed? Right, babe?"

You want to clap a hand on his mouth to keep his cocky talk out of it, but your pussy betrays you, clenching around him the moment his dirty words start to fall from his lips. Instead, you give some wet kisses on his lips. He reciprocates every one of them.

You ask him to touch you, and he looks in your eyes, asking, "Where?"

You guide one of his hands to your clit. He collects some of the lubrication that formed a ring at the base of his cock and starts to massage the swollen bud, circling it. Your nails scratch his back, and he hisses, eyes closing. He ruts desperately into you, your pussy casting a spell on him, all wet and good for him. 

You glance around the space, the warm illuminated lamp, the scent of his cologne everywhere, his tanned body sweating to give you pleasure, his muscles clenching as he holds you, his hand on your clit, his cock filling you, his eyes focused on every one of your expressions, his moans every time you clench.

You prepare for every detail when your eyes suddenly blur. You feel it coming... fuck. You're cumming, but something else is coming too. 

The realization hits you, and you say, "No, no, no, shit!"

You hold his bicep, your head thrown back, the veins on your neck popping. You try to stop, but you can't. You squirt all over him and his bed.

Mingyu stops inside you, mouth open. Now he gets desperate, taking his cock from you and cumming on your belly, so far that it hits your tits too. He lets your legs rest on the bed, and you cover your mouth.

"M-Mingyu, your bed! I'm sorry, let me put this to wash and—" You start to get up, feeling a rush of embarrassment and responsibility for the mess.

Mingyu, still catching his breath, quickly moves to stop you, his hand firm but gentle on your shoulder. He gives you a little push, making you lay back on the bed again. "Hey, relax," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's just a bed. We can clean it up later."

You look at him, your cheeks flushed. "But it's such a mess," you protest weakly.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I like it messy," he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "Besides, I think I like you better like this."

"But seriously, Mingyu, your bed—"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering embrace. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. "The bed can wait," he murmurs. "Right now, I want to focus on you."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your pulse quicken. "Mingyu," you whisper, feeling the heat rise in your body again.

He tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says softly. "Especially when you're all flustered and breathless like this."

Mingyu's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Then why don't we make a little more mess before we clean up?" he suggests, his voice a seductive whisper.

[...]

Your ex's message lights up your cellphone on the table beside the bed: "Where are you?" Mark asks. You can't help but scoff at the audacity. The nerve of him to ask after everything he's done. A surge of defiance washes over you, fueled by the memory of him flaunting Sayla around like some trophy.

Mingyu's rhythm doesn't falter as he thrusts into you from behind, his hand gripping your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the pain on your scalp, but loving the pleasure that comes with it too. You reach for your phone, you know exactly how to answer Mark's question.

With a quick swipe, you open the camera, positioning it just right. The screen captures the sinful scene—Mingyu's defined body behind you, your flushed shoulder peeking into view, and your hair being pulled by Mingyu. 

You snap the photo and attach it to the message as a single view photo. 

Letting the image speak for itself.

"Here's your answer," you mutter under your breath, hitting send.

Mingyu's grip tightens, his pace quickening as he senses the shift in your mood. "What did you just do?" he asks, laughing.

You turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, a wicked smile playing on your lips. "Just answered a question," you reply, your voice breathless.

Mingyu's eyes darken with approval. "Good girl," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Let's give him something to really be jealous about."

The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with the chorus of moans and gasps that fill the room. As Mingyu's hand slips down to tease your clit, your phone buzzes again, another message from Mark. 

Unlike any other toddlers, little Aster has a liking for vacuum cleaners. Instead of going to the toy store, he prefers going to the electronic store to look at vacuums, he doesn't play with them but likes hearing their sounds. You believe it's because it offers a similar sound to the white noise machine he has in his room.

"Vacuum!" He adorably shouts, jumping on his little feet while pointing at the vacuum on the display.

"Yes, vacuum!" You nod.

"Wanna play!" He cutely mumbles while tugging his index finger between his two front teeth.

Seeing that it is displayed on the top shelf, there's no way you can put it down yourself and risk knocking the other things on the display, you squat down to be on the same eye level with him.

"It's too heavy," you tell him, gently patting his small head.

You point at the one on the bottom shelf and offer it to him to play, "How about this one?"

He eagerly nods, watching you take the vacuum cleaner for a spin even though it's not turned on. You carefully hand it to him, letting him hold the handle with his small hand, and push it through the aisle of the electronic store.

"Do you like it, Aster?"

He's laughing as he keeps pushing and making vacuuming sounds through his little mouth. His laughter is so infectious that you can't help but laugh as well.

The journey in the electronic store continues to the lawnmowers. You let Aster walk on his own and observe the lawnmowers parked throughout the whole section.

"Car!" He says as he taps at the tire of the red lawnmower.

"It's not a car," you inform, lifting him by the waist and putting him on the lawnmower.

He turns his head at you with a questioning look on his face.

"It's a lawnmower," you tell him.

"Lamoomoowee," he incorrectly pronounces it, riding the lawnmower like a hobbyhorse.

"Lawnmower," you slowly enunciate it for him while steadily holding his back to prevent him from falling.

"Lammowah," he gets it even wrong this time and as if he knows he says it wrong, he breaks into a wide grin.

Oh, this is why you like children, they're pure and innocent, as opposed to adults who are oftentimes complicated and messy. With children, you get to be honest and open, you don't have to be afraid of being judged, and they see you for what you truly are.

"You're blessed with a beautiful boy," a lady says as she gently gives Aster a quick ruffle on his hair.

You feel flattered whenever someone thinks that Aster is your child but if his real parents caught anyone saying that to you, you're sure they'd be offended.

"Oh, thank you!" You mutter with a smile, "But I'm just the babysitter."

"Oh?" The lady gasps in surprise, then gives Aster another ruffle and a gentle pinch on his cheek before leaving you be.

Your phone dings in your jacket pocket and you pull it out to check if it's coming from Aster's dad. Indeed it is and he's almost finished getting his hair done.

"Aster baby, we have to go," You say to him, taking him by the hand and putting him back into the stroller, "Dada is waiting!"

You're told to meet him by the entrance of the supermarket so as you're pushing the stroller, you're craning your neck to find him.

"There's dada!" You exclaim once you spot him.

Aster is giggling as he is strapped into his seat as you push the stroller at full speed and start wriggling his body when he notices his father waving his hand at him.

"Hi, sweet boy," Felix says to his son, unbuckling the straps around his chest and lifting him.

"Are you having fun?" He asks the little one with a boop on his nose.

"Yes," Aster answers with a nod and presses his mouth onto Felix's cheek.

"We just got back from looking at vacuums," you share while holding onto the stroller.

"Must be fun. Dada is jealous," he jokingly says while hoisting Aster higher in his arms.

He then turns to look at you and shows his new hairstyle, it's still blonde but it looks like he trimmed it a little.

"What do you think?" He asks for your opinion while giving his hair a subtle flip.

You lowly chuckle, "You look stunning!"

"Thank you," he says, then turns at Aster to ask for his approval next, "Do you like it, Aster?"

"Yes," he shortly says, it's unsure whether he understands the question or not but it's enough to make Felix smile in response.

This is when you find the resemblance between Aster and his dad, they share the same warm genuine smile with their nose slightly scrunched.

The trip continues with a grocery shopping and Aster gets distracted by the plush toys on the shelf, pointing at the one that looks like the pet dog at home.

"Mandu!" He shouts in excitement.

You grab one and hand it to him, letting him play with it as he sits inside the trolley.

"It indeed looks like Mandu," Felix says as he puts a loaf of bread into the trolley.

"What a lovely couple!" An elderly says as she walks past the three of you.

Felix and you automatically exchange a look and then burst into laughter at the same time.

This is not the first time both of you have heard such a thing. Whenever the two of you are together, especially with Aster around, it seems to them that the two of you are married and Aster is your love child.

First of all, you wouldn't mind having Felix as a husband, he's beautiful and kind, he's a successful food blogger who has written dozens of cookbooks, and ultimately, a good dad to Aster.

Unfortunately, Felix is very well taken and is happily married to his husband, Hwang Hyunjin.

-

"Bubba!"

That's a nickname Aster likes to call you, you pick up his toy from under the sofa in case it's what he tries to say to you.

"Yes, sweet Aster?"

"Water, please?" He sweetly asks while rubbing his chest with his hand, a sign language that means 'please'.

"I'll get it for you," Felix says from the kitchen even though he's busy preparing dinner.

You stay with Aster, keeping him company as he's playing with his toys in front of the TV.

Felix comes with Aster's water bottle and offers it to his son himself, he watches as he sucks water through the straw.

"My sweet boy is thirsty, huh?"

Aster swallows his drinks and gasps in exaggeration, "Thank you, dada!!" He cutely mutters.

"You're very welcome, angel," he says back and kisses the top of his head.

Felix may seem tough with his lean, toned body and his deep voice but that's just what he appears to be. As opposed to tough exteriors, he has a very tender soul and is not afraid to show it.

"Do you mind turning on the news?" He politely asks.

"Yep, sure," you say, flicking the TV channels to the one you know he wanted to see.

Felix's husband, Hyunjin, works as a news anchor in a TV station and he usually works either the noon or the night news but at times, he does one in between those times.

"I texted him, telling him to wink if he wants Martinis served when he comes home," Felix says as he's chuckling while his hand constantly playing with Aster's hair.

"Oh? What?" You gasp and you must admit that an interesting way to flirt with one another, "You think he'll do it?"

Felix shrugs but he knows what he's doing because who doesn't like having drinks served when you come home after a long day of work? Not you, obviously and it's sad that no one does that for you.

A few minutes later, the breaking news intro flashes through the screen and you guess this must be it. Hyunjin's long and angular face fills the screen, his dark hair slicked back and he wears a tie in a color that compliments his skin tone well.

"Look, Aster! That's Daddy!" You say as you shake his hand in excitement.

Aster looks up from his toy and sees his dad's face on the screen, his face lights up like a Christmas tree once he sees him.

"Daddy!" He shouts.

"That's Daddy," Felix says, planting another kiss on Aster's head.

Mandu barks noticing the familiar face on TV and starts standing on his hind legs as if he's trying to reach Hyunjin through the screen.

"The meeting of the 49th Asia Audit Committee was held on 11 March at the Asia Hall to discuss matters related to audit, risk, and governance of the secretariat," Hyunjin eloquently reads the news then there it is, the wink. It's so subtle that it may seem like he was trying to blink but it's a wink.

Felix cracks a laugh, probably not expecting that he would actually do it on national broadcast and in the middle of him reading the news.

"Well, guess we'll be having Martini tonight," he says as he gets up from the carpeted floor, "You should stay for dinner because you don't want to miss it."

You feel bad for always turning down his offer and you reckon it's time to accept the invitation for dinner. Also because Martini sounds like a nice treat.

"Well, since I'm driving, I'll only have one Martini," you remind him.

"Wise choice!" He comments.

To be honest, it's always a treat to have dinner at this household. Despite his specialty in baking, Felix is a great cook and you'd love to have dinner here every day if you could but you don't want to be greedy and exploit their kindness. Boundaries exist for a reason and you respect those boundaries because at the end of the day, they're your employers and you are the employee.

Hearing the familiar sound of his dad's car pulling up the driveway, Aster runs to the door with Mandu trailing behind him, he's squealing with saliva dribbling down one corner of his mouth.

You abruptly stop setting the table to follow him and are ready to help if he accidentally trips or falls, you stop him from going further and make him wait in the foyer.

"Daddy will be here soon," you assure him, containing his excitement with one arm around his waist.

A moment later, the door opens and Hyunjin steps inside, he's still dressed in his work attire sans the suit jacket, he has his white shirt loosened around the neck and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Aster jumps as he squeals and you can't contain him anymore, you let him run at his dad. Hyunjin is quick enough to get on his knees and catches him in his arms.

"Is this Aster or monster Aster?" He likes to baby talk to the little one while pressing ticklish kisses onto his neck.

"This is monster Aster!" He playfully tickles Aster's stomach, making him squirm and giggle, more drool dribbling down his mouth.

"Give Daddy a kiss!" He demands, offering his cheek at him.

Aster opens his mouth wide and instead of kissing, it looks like he's going to take a bite out of Hyunjin's cheek.

"Ouch! That hurts!" He exclaims, rubbing his cheek which is wet with Aster's drool.

You gasp when you see the faint teeth mark on Hyunjin's cheek, "Oh, my God! You have the—" you point at his cheek.

"This is not the first time," Hyunjin calmly says to you while walking further into the house, he drops his briefcase on the sofa and comes up to his husband who's busy making sure the spaghetti sauce is flavorful.

Hyunjin places a hand on the small of Felix's back and leans in for a long, lingering kiss on the lips. Felix drops everything he's doing to properly welcome him home with a hu and not enough with one kiss, Felix pecks his lips and smiles when he pulls away.

"Aster bit me," Hyunjin immediately tells on his own son like a child, pointing at the teeth mark on his cheek.

Felix hurriedly checks it and gently rubs it with his thumb, "Aster, you bit daddy?"

"Monster Aster!" He mumbles in response to Felix.

"Oh? Monster Aster who bit daddy?"

"Uh-huh," he repeatedly nods.

"Monster Dada is coming to bite you then," Felix jokingly says.

Aster breaks into laughter and then hides in Hyunjin's neck as Felix attacks him with kisses on his stomach. It's just the three of them in their loving bubble.

"What are we having for dinner?" Hyunjin asks with his hand placing gentle rubs on Felix's back.

"Spaghetti with meatballs, Aster's favorite," He answers while stirring sauce in the pan.

"Smell good," Hyunjin comments, and then they exchange a look that is filled with so much love.

The whole interaction makes you feel like you're watching a movie scene that describes what a happy, loving family looks like. Your heart bursts thinking if the future holds something like this for you too.

"Can you stay with Bubba, darling?" Hyunjin says to his son, coming up to you to hand him over.

"Daddy will get back soon, okay?" He convinces him with a kiss on the cheek before leaving to go upstairs.

"And you, young gentleman, time to wash those dirty hands," you tell him.

Dinner is served on the table and just from the look of it, you can tell Felix's cooking is going to taste so good like always. Once in a while, you check Aster if he's eating his dinner well and from the way his mouth is slobbering with spaghetti sauce, you can tell he is.

"Isn't it like spring break for you?" Hyunjin suddenly asks.

You swallow your food before answering, "Yes."

"And you don't have any plans for spring break?"

"I do. The plan is playing with your 18-month-old son," you playfully answer while twirling pasta with your fork.

Hyunjin doesn't ask more about it, you guess he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable with those kinds of questions.

"She doesn't like going out much," Felix says then flashes a knowing smile at you, "Just like you."

Hyunjin pouts at him in response but Felix finds it cute that he grabs his hand on the table and squeezes it.

"Is that true?" Hyunjin asks for confirmation from you.

"Yeah. I just want to finish college as soon as possible and I can do all those things later," you explain.

You understand that this way of thinking is unlike most people but you like to keep your focus on one thing and that is finishing your education.

You didn't even plan to keep working as their babysitter, you needed the extra money to replace your crappy car but as time goes on, you learned that they're a nice family and Aster is such a sweetheart so you decide to continue working for them until you graduate.

"Look at me, baby!" You say as you wipe Aster's mouth with a wet wipe.

He keeps wanting to nestle his head in your neck but you can't let him do that with all the spaghetti sauce all over his mouth and cheeks.

"You're getting sleepy, mmh?" you sweetly mutter as you reach to clean his cheek but he keeps dodging away.

It's not even his bedtime yet and Aster usually plays for a bit after dinner, but it seems like he can barely keep his eyes open anymore.

Hyunjin checks on you and notices that Aster is getting drowsy, "I'll get him to bed," he softly mutters to you.

You carefully hand Aster to him and he immediately nuzzles his head into the crook of his neck, then rest his eyes closed.

Since Hyunjin is taking your task away, you decide to help Felix clean up in the kitchen, scraping the leftovers off the plate to load them into the dishwasher next.

"You don't have to do that," Felix says as he's busy gathering the ingredients for the Martini.

"But I already did," you say with a grin and close the dishwasher, "Can I help you with anything?"

He looks over his shoulder at you, "Yeah, can you take the cocktail glasses out of the fridge?"

"Got you," you open the fridge and have no problem finding the three chilled dainty cocktail glasses perched on the the middle shelf of the fridge.

Felix meticulously measures the liquor, one part dry vermouth, and 6 parts gin before pouring them into the mixing glass, then gives it a good shake.

Once he deems it's mixed well, he carefully pours them into the glasses and instead of olives, he uses the lemon peel as garnish.

You're impressed with his drink-mixing skill but more impressed with how elegant he looks doing all that stuff.

"I want to be you when I grow up," you say in awe.

That earns a nice chuckle out of him as he wipes the kitchen island with a napkin, "You will," he playfully says.

"Now, where's my hard-earned Martini?" Hyunjin says as he returns from putting Aster to sleep and comes back carrying Mandu in one arm.

Felix lifts the drink and shows it to him, "It's ready!"

After having a toast, you can't bring yourself to drink it because it looks so pretty but not drinking it would be rude to the one who made it. You take a small sip and try to reserve it as long as possible.

It's so refreshing and nice, you can taste a hint of citrus from the lemon. You believe it's the first time you have a drink that is skillfully made by some.

"This is so good," you genuinely compliment and can't stop yourself from getting another sip at it.

"Compliment to the chef!" Hyunjin says with a seductive smile and pulls Felix closer to his side, resting his arm around his waist.

There's the look of love again and you can tell what's coming after that, yep, Hyunjin kisses Felix on the lips with his smile lingers on his face.

Flustered, Felix hides his face in his neck exactly like Aster did earlier.

"You always smell good, babe," Felix whispers and he probably thinks that you don't see him planting kisses onto Hyunjin's neck.

Hyunjin tilts Felix's head to land a sweet kiss on his lips and they smile at each other after, "I like it whenever you do that," he mutters, pulling him even closer to his side.

All of a sudden, you feel like third wheeling, you abort your plan to savor every sip of your Martini and gulp it at once.

"It's getting late. I'd better go," you say, putting the glass down on the kitchen island.

Not waiting for their response, you gather your things and shove them into your bag. You're walking back to them to say bye.

"Be careful on the way home," Felix says as he gives you a quick hug.

You hoist the strap of your bag higher on your shoulder, "I will. Goodnight!"

"I'll send you off," Hyunjin offers, walking you out of the door, and as you take the car keys out of your bag, he snatches it.

"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" He asks.

"It's only one drink," you assure him.

"Sobriety test. Go!" He says, refusing to make a compromise.

You subtly roll your eyes at him and walk in a straight line to prove that you're not under the influence and sober enough to drive.

"See?" You tell him as you turn around to face him.

"Now, do a cartwheel!" He orders, leaning his side against the doorway.

"Seriously?" You groan.

Hyunjin bursts out laughing, "No. I'm joking."

He approaches you to hand your car keys back and puts them right in your hand, "Here. Drive safely."

"I will."

"Thank you for today," he says as he stands in the doorway.

You flash him a smile before getting into your car, "Goodnight, Mr. Hwang!" You poke fun, knowing how much he hates being called by his surname.

"It's Hyunjin," he insists while gritting his teeth.

You have the fun now and chuckle, "Goodnight, it's Hyunjin!" You shout as you pull the car out of the driveway.

That's pretty much how your day went in the Hwang-Lee household. You've been working for them for eight months and there's not a day where you don't feel jealous of their romantic and harmonious marriage life.

-

They don't make you babysit on the weekends but there's always an exception.

Tonight is a date night for Felix and Hyunjin, and you come a little after seven even though they'll leave at 8. You knock on the door and let yourself in, they probably know you'll be coming anyway.

"Bubba is here!" Felix says, knowing that it's you who came through the door.

Aster appears from behind the wall and grins when he looks at you, he's trudging his way to you and almost stumbles on his own little feet.

"It's Astalalala," you exclaim, calling him by the nickname you give him. You squat down to hug him and catch a whiff of that nice baby scent that clings to him.

"How are you, sweet Aster?" You ask.

"Good," he shortly answers.

"And where's my kiss?" You ask, tapping your cheek to show him where to kiss.

He rushes to kiss you on the cheek and instead of his lips, his nose bumps your cheek first.

"Thank you, Astalala," you sweetly say with a smile.

You carry him up as you walk inside and find Felix in the kitchen as you expected, he is already dressed in a dark silk shirt with a tie-neck collar and is making sandwiches.

"Hey, I made you a cold-cut sandwich," He says, shoving a piece of cheese into his mouth.

"Oh, no. I had dinner," you meekly say, feeling bad for refusing.

"Well, you can have it later," he simply resolves.

"With pleasure," you respond because it looks so good and you'll definitely eat it as soon as you get hungry.

"Aster had his dinner already," He informs you as he puts back everything into the fridge.

He suddenly lands a slap on his forehead as if he's just remembered something, "Oh, I forgot to change his pillow covers."

"Don't worry, I'll do it," you assure him.

He awkwardly stands in front of you and asks, "Is it too much?"

"Not at all. You look stunning," you convince him, turning your head at Aster to seek his approval, "Right, Aster?"

"Yesss," he hisses through his bunny teeth.

"Thank you, sweetheart," Felix says and presses a kiss on his round cheek.

As you take Aster to the living room to watch his favorite cartoon, Hyunjin appears from the top of the stairs and is dressed in a suit, he skips the tie tonight and keeps the top two buttons open.

"Are you ready to leave?" He asks his husband who's still busy in the kitchen.

Felix glances up to see Hyunjin descending the stairs, "Yeah. I just need to—"

"Oh, my God. Stop cleaning up," you scold him since he can't seem to relax without making sure his kitchen is clean and tidy.

Felix drops the cloth and washes his hands under the sink, "Yes, I'm ready," he replies to his husband.

Hyunjin and Felix take turns kissing Aster before leaving the house, you send them on their way out while carrying their son in your arms.

"Bye, baby," Felix throws an air kiss at Aster.

"Bye, bye, dada!" You make him say them to his dad and he follows suit, waving his small hand at him as he says it.

"Have a great night!" You shout at them before they get into the car.

There's not much left to do but play with Aster in the living room and at the first sign of him getting drowsy, you hurriedly run him a bath and prepare him for bed.

As he picks the storybook he wants you to read, you change his pillow covers per Felix's instruction, then you sit on the small sofa and have Aster sit on your lap to read the storybook together, he mostly looks at the pictures as you read it to him.

It doesn't take long until he drifts into sleep with his head resting on your chest, you cuddle him until he's deep in his slumber before putting him in his crib.

"Night, sweet Aster," you whisper and leave the door to his bedroom slightly ajar.

As a reward, you eat the sandwich Felix made and it's worth every bite of it, having it with a can of soda from the fridge. Finished with your second dinner, you take a tour around the house, looking at the photos hung on the walls.

One is of Aster when he was a baby along with his tiny footprints and then there's a picture of the three of them together on Aster's first birthday. On the biggest frame is Hyunjin and Felix's wedding photo, they're both wearing white suits but Hyunjin's is embroidered with a flower pattern while Felix has this lace tail on the back of his suit jacket. You've never seen a more beautiful couple than them and you believe they're what people call a match made in heaven.

Having nothing else to do, you curl up on the sofa and read a book you brought with you. The next thing you know, you wake up startled hearing someone entering the passcode to the house.

You scramble to get up and pick up the book falling off your lap, you check the time on your phone, it's a little after eleven so it must be them coming back from their date.

It's true, you can hear their laughs as they enter the house and their low chatter, you also catch them smooching through the reflection on the TV screen. You act like you're not seeing it and cover your face with the book, pretending to read.

When you hear their footsteps coming into the room, you slowly put down your book and smile, "Oh, you guys are back!"

"Oh, hey," Felix says, foolishly grinning with his cheeks flushed, looking like he's slightly drunk.

Hyunjin looks not that different, his cheeks red and he's all smiles when he places his hand on Felix's waist.

"I'll go check on Aster," he says with a soft smile.

You wait until Hyunjin leaves to ask something, "Hey, do you mind if I'm staying over? I'm so sleepy, I don't think I'll able to drive home—"

"Of course!" Felix hastily answers, then sits on the sofa next to you, "You know I don't feel good letting you drive at night."

"Oh, thank you," you sincerely say.

"Hey, since you're staying, why don't we have a glass of wine?"

It's a nice offer and you would love to accept it but you don't want to disturb their date night, it's better if you get yourself out of the scene as to not ruin it for them.

"I'd love to but I'm... I'm tired," you gently refuse with an apologetic smile.

He places his hand on your hand and squeezes it, "That's okay. You'd better rest then."

You smile at him and bring your book with you, "Goodnight."

"Night!" He says back.

Right before you enter the guest room, you see Hyunjin surprises Felix with a back hug and then he whispers something into his ear that makes him laugh, filling the space with his deep laughter.

Now you know that they're not drunk, they're just in love.

-

Sunday morning at the Hwang-Lee household consists of a hungry toddler and a cook who doubts his pancake souffle is fluffy enough. Then you enter the scene as a girl in search of her first intake of caffeine.

"Morning," you cheerily greet everyone, softly poking Aster's cheek as he chews on his mini pancakes.

"Morning!" Felix says back without looking up from the pan, "Coffee?"

"I'll get it myself," you say, getting yourself a cup from the cabinet and carefully pouring some hot coffee from the pot.

"How's your sleep?" He asks, serving you a delicious-looking pancake souffle, it jiggles as he pushes the plate across the kitchen island.

"I slept so well, thank you," you answer with a sleepy smile and start with a small sip of coffee, you can feel it rejuvenate you from the inside.

Felix anxiously watches as you eat the pancake, "Do you think it's fluffy enough?"

You take a moment to chew and swallow before answering, "I think it's perfect," you honestly answer, it tastes even better than the ones made in the pastry shop.

"More apple, please!" Aster cutely asks.

Felix rushes to slice the peeled apple for him and places them on his plate, "More apple for Aster," he cutely says, then kisses his head.

"Thank you, dada," Aster mumbles with his mouth full of food.

He then pulls the drawer open and takes something out, "Since you're here..."

He slides an envelope toward you and you reckon it's your pay, he insists on paying weekly because he knows you may need it for gas. One look at it and you know they put extra bills in there. They have always been so generous with the pay.

"Thank you," you say, accepting it with gratitude.

"Do you mind running some errands for me tomorrow?"

"No. I don't mind at all," you answer.

Felix comes up with a list of things to buy along with his credit card, handing it to you, "You can come late tomorrow."

"Consider it done," you assure him, putting the list and the credit card into the envelope.

"The last one is for you," he says, putting a gift card in front of you, "So you don't have any excuses to not spoil yourself."

As expected, he knows you so well. You're reluctant to spend money on such things when it can be used for more important things but Felix oftentimes reminds you that it's okay to spoil yourself once in a while.

You crack a laugh and put the gift card into the envelope, "I will. Thank you," you say.

Not only generous, they always come with extra something like this. Just last week, he bought you a new laptop bag and scented candles.

The sound of Mandu's barks only means that Hyunjin is back from walking him. He comes in panting and brushing his dark hair to the back, exposing a layer of sweat coating his forehead.

"Mandu almost fought someone's dog," Hyunjin shares as he's getting himself a glass of water to quench his thirst. You find it cute that he likes to rant to his husband like a little kid.

"It's a Rottweiler and it's like this big," Hyunjin continues, describing how big the dog Mandu almost picked a fight with. He then goes to sit on the stool next to his son and watches his ear.

"What do you have here, baby?" Hyunjin asks the little one with a gentle ruffle on his hair.

"Apple," he shortly answers, offering a slice to him.

Hyunjin takes it into his mouth even though it's slobbering with yogurt, "yum..." he hums in delight.

Felix joins in with them, sitting next to him, and intently watches as Hyunjin digs into the pancake souffle.

"I don't think it's fluffy enough," Felix sighs, taking his baking very seriously.

Hyunjin takes a second to thoroughly taste it and says, "No, it's perfect," he disagrees with him.

He then looks at you to convince him more, "It's perfect. Right?"

"I told him the exact same thing earlier," you respond, shoving a spoonful of it into your mouth.

"It is?" Felix doubtfully asks as he also digs into the pancake and takes a bite.

"It's perfect," Hyunjin reassures him with a peck on his lips.

When he pulls away from the kiss, he softly mutters, "You're perfect."

This is too early for this but you have accepted the fact that there'll be not a day where it doesn't feel like you're third wheeling when you're around them. You look away and quietly sip your cup of coffee.

"Hey, we're going to the aquarium today. Are you coming?" Hyunjin asks.

You look around to check if Hyunjin is really asking you, "oh that sounds fun but I have to drive my mom to her book club meeting," you explain.

They had a date night and now they're having a family day, and it's endearing that they invite you along but you can only say yes once in a while.

You gently pinch Aster's round cheek and say, "Maybe next time.

-

The next day, you come to their house with both hands carrying bags of groceries. Notices that you're struggling to carry them yourself, Felix comes to your aid, taking a few bags out of your hands.

"Sorry I made you do all this," Felix says as he puts the bags on the kitchen counter with loud thudding sounds.

"No, it's okay. It's not a big deal," you assure him, putting the last few bags onto the counter.

Since everything is all accounted for, you take out all the receipts along with his credit card and give them back to him.

"I hope I didn't miss anything," you say.

Felix doesn't even glance at the receipts, he puts them inside the drawer and slips the credit card back into his wallet.

"I guess Aster is napping?" You ask, sitting on the stool with a glass of water.

"Yes, he just went to nap," he answers, "Lunch?"

"I had lunch."

"I just baked some Madeleine. Do you want some?" He offers.

"With tea?" You ask with your eyebrow raised.

He brightly grins as if you read his mind, "Of course!"

After putting away a box of party supplies in the pantry, you join Felix on the back porch for some tea and Madeleine he baked. The sunny weather makes a perfect ambiance for tea time.

You find Felix scribbling something in his notebook, the one he uses to write down recipes or ideas for his next cooking videos. You grab a Madeleine once you sit on the chair next to him.

"So, I assume you'll film a cooking video soon?"

After having Aster, Felix decides to be a stay-at-home dad and film cooking videos for his food blog, he's still has a great following and plans on writing a cookbook.

"Yes, and it's not going to be an easy one," He says, hinting at something with his scrunched nose.

"Does it involve your 19-month-old son?" You guess, raising your eyebrow at him.

One of Felix's most popular cooking videos is one with Aster in it, you guess people like seeing them together even though it could get messy at some point.

"It wouldn't be the first time," you say since you had the experience of helping them film the previous one and it was messy.

"Will you help me?" Felix asks with hopeful eyes.

"Absolutely!"

It's not even about the money anymore. Helping them comes as a second nature to you. In fact, they feel like a family to you that there's nothing that you wouldn't do for them.

-

Aster can indeed be a handful but not the kind that you can't manage. He was only 13 months old when the previous video was filmed and he's older now, hopefully, he's better at understanding what and how things work.

Once he wakes up from his nap, you give him snacks, some fruits, and cheese slices while Felix is preparing ingredients in the kitchen and setting up the cameras.

Now that he's refreshed from the nap and full from the snacks, Aster gets in the right mood to film with Felix. He makes him stand on the chair next to him to start filming.

Your job is simple, make sure that the cameras are recording well and filming at the right angles, the rest will be edited by Felix.

"Today, Aster and I are making banana bread," Felix says to the camera.

It never ceases to amaze you how that deep voice belongs to him.

"What are we making, Aster?" He asks his little one.

"Banana bread!" He eloquently answers.

"That's right," Felix cheerful responds and briefly kisses his head.

Felix starts peeling the banana and handing it to Aster, telling him to break them into pieces. Aster follows the instructions well but instead of dumping them into the mixing bowl, he eats it.

"You just had your snack a while ago," Felix says while laughing and letting him have a piece for now.

He then hands him the next banana and watches him breaking it off again. As he's about to put it in his mouth, he looks at him and says, "Aster, into the bowl!"

Aster gives in and dumps the banana into the bowl. However, on the third banana, he caves in and thinks of eating it again. Felix quietly watches him, letting him decide whether he would follow the urge or be able to resist it.

Aster looks at Felix and grins, catching him off guard, he shoves the banana into his small mouth. You hold the urge to laugh out loud watching the whole thing behind the camera.

"Bubba, I think we need more bananas," Felix mutters at you.

You hurriedly pick a couple of bananas from the fruit bowl and hand it to him, no need to worry about getting filmed, Felix will edit you out later.

After smashing the bananas in the bowl, Felix shows Aster how to crack an egg and dumps it into the bowl. He fails on the first try, completely shatters the egg and it drops onto the table.

"We'll do it together, okay?" Felix patiently teaches him to properly crack the egg on the edge of the bowl and successfully puts it into the bowl this time.

"You know what it is, Aster?" He lifts a bowl of flour at him.

Aster looks at you to find the answer, you inaudibly mutter the answer to him.

"Foufou," he hesitantly mumbles his answer.

"Yes, flour," Felix exclaims, letting him dump the whole thing into the mixing bowl.

Aster accidentally pours it off the bowl and some of it spills onto the table, "Oh, no..." he sadly mutters.

"That's okay," Felix assures him, adding extra flour from the bag.

"Now, sugar," he says, making Aster do it again.

He shakes his head, probably afraid would spill it again, "No. Dada do it," he says.

"Dada knows Aster can do it," he encourages but you can tell that he tries not to intervene as Aster lifts the bowl of sugar.

Aster manages to put it in perfectly and Felix gasps in pride, "See? Dada knows you can do it!"

Aster grins in response to his dad's praise and watches as Felix mixes the whole thing with a whisk. He stops to switch turns with his son, letting him mix it as he pleases.

"There you go," Felix sweetly mutters.

It indeed gets very messy at the end of the filming but it's nothing compares to how heartwarming it is watching them baking together. Felix is so patient and gentle the whole time and Aster is smart for his age, precocious even.

As everyone waits for the banana bread out of the oven, you take Aster to the back porch and let Mandu out to play in the backyard. Together, you're watching the sunset and a flock of birds flying in between the burst of gold and orange in the sky.

"Do you see that, Aster?"

"Birdies!" Aster exclaims, tilting his head and looking mesmerized by what he's seeing.

"Yes. Birdies flying," you say.

Aster raises his hand in the air and waves it at the birds, "Bye, bye birdies!"

"Bye, bye birdies," you follow suit, also waving your hand high.

When you come back inside, you are greeted by the delicious smell of freshly baked banana bread. Despite the messy process, it turns out really well.

Felix takes a few pictures for the blog and slices it to have a taste at it, he hands you a slice on a plate. As for Aster, he breaks a piece, blowing on it before feeding it to him.

"Does it taste good?"

"Good," he answers even though he's still chewing.

Considering that it was made by a toddler, it tastes alright and probably tastes better than the one baked by an amateur at baking like you.

"Good job, Aster," you raise your hand at him for a high-five.

In the middle of dinner, Aster gets sleepy and you immediately take him upstairs. You don't even need to read him a storybook or rocking him in your arms, he must be tired that he's falling asleep while having his bottle of milk.

You come back downstairs and find Felix has done cleaning up in the kitchen.

"Hey, will you stay for a round of video games?" Felix asks, turning around from the counter as you arrive at the base of the stairs.

Since Hyunjin will be coming home late to do late-night news, you decide to stay a little longer with Felix even though you have zero ideas on how to play video games. He patiently guides you through it while also controlling his console in his hands.

In the third round, you finally get the hang of it but not good enough to beat Felix at it. You eventually give up and decide to watch him play on the side.

Felix takes a break from playing and grabs two cans of beer from the fridge, drinking it on the sofa together.

"Hey, can I ask you some personal questions?" He asks out of the blue.

Yes, you're working for him but you are comfortable enough with him to talk about personal things. You nod in answer, "Yes, sure."

Felix sips his beer first before coming up with the personal question he wanted to ask, "Are you seeing anyone?"

"No," you answer with a light head shake.

"May I know why?"

"I'm not looking for relationships at the moment," you shortly answer.

Finishing your college is your top priority now and as for everything else, you can always do it later once you graduate.

"Is it because you don't want to or...?"

"I think I've said it before that I'm focusing on graduating college first," you answer.

"But are you open to it?"

"I'm always open to it but not for now," you firmly answer.

"How about casual ones?"

"You mean... casual dating?"

"Why? You've done it, right? Sex?"

You shyly chuckle because you don't talk about such things with anyone, not even with your mom.

"Don't get shy with me. We're both grown up and Aster is asleep," he says with a soft laugh.

"Well, I've done it but... I don't know," you decide to leave it at that, deciding not to tell him in detail.

"Was it good? Bad? Average?"

"I don't have that many experiences to know for certain if it was good or bad," you honestly share and it surprises you that you don't find it awkward to tell him that. Maybe it's because you know he won't be judgmental about it.

Felix nods at your answer and he seems to need a moment to process it, "Are you open to experiment?"

"You make it sound like it's a chem class," you playfully respond to his question.

"Experimenting is what led me to meet Aster's dad," Felix remarks with a quick eyebrow raise.

You crack a laugh and finish your can of beer, "I don't know. I'm not that confident with myself."

"Nonsense!" He strongly disagrees.

"You're undeniably gorgeous," he genuinely compliments as he brushes your hair to the side, "and that says something coming from me."

You laugh again and put down your empty can on the table, "well, thank you!"

Felix shifts on his seat and turns his body to face you, "do you trust me?"

"I do," you answer without a beat and that tells him how much you trust him.

"Do you trust me enough to experiment with me?"

"With you?" You ask in confirmation.

"Yes."

"I don't know..." you doubtfully answer, "I don't want things to be awkward between us."

"It won't. Trust me," he convinces you.

There's nothing to lose here and it's just an experiment, not a real thing. It's more relieving to know that he initiates the idea and you can trust him on that.

"Who knows you have a thing for a dad of one?" He jokingly says.

"Okay," you say with a nervous laugh.

"Okay," he says, putting his hand on your shoulder and gently massaging it, "Now, relax."

Felix glides his hand up to the nape of your neck and continues massaging you there, his fingers softly scratching the back of your hair. It works to help you relax, your shoulders are no longer tense and your heart beats steadily.

"Now close your eyes," he speaks so low it's almost like a whisper.

You obey him without question and close your eyes, nothing happens until a moment later, you feel his lips against yours, soft meets soft, and together locked in a slow, sensuous kiss.

Felix skillfully pries your mouth open with his tongue and you willingly open it for him, letting him taste you more.

With the hand that stays on the nape of your neck, he can angle your head as he pleases, and that way he can deepen the kiss.

The quiet in the room only adds to the tension and you hold your breath, not wanting to change a thing about this moment, you want to keep it as long as you can and only let go when you start to feel faint from lack of oxygen in your lungs.

"And that's what a good kiss should be," he mutters.

Instead of feeling awkward, you feel funny and break into laughter, "Maybe I do have a thing for a dad of one," you joke back.

Hyunjin walks in on the two of you laughing on the sofa together and both of you immediately quiet down which gives the impression that he interrupted something.

"What's going on?" He asks, taking his suit jacket off and folding it neatly in his arm.

"Nothing," you shortly answer.

"I taught her how to kiss," Felix blurts out.

"Oh," Hyunjin says, but he doesn't seem as surprised as you think he would be, "Are you sure you taught her well?"

Hyunjin's unexpected reaction to it makes you wonder if he knows that it's true and he doesn't mind any of it. Or maybe you should feel relieved that he doesn't mind that his husband kissed the babysitter.

"Hey, why don't you stay over?" Felix suggests out of the blue.

The plan is to leave once Hyunjin is already home, you grab your phone and get up from the sofa, "Oh, no, I'll just—"

"You're staying over and I'm getting us drinks," Felix insists, pushing you to sit back down on the sofa.

"I'll help," you offer, getting the glasses from the cabinet while Felix is getting the liquor.

You return to the living room while clutching the glasses close to your chest, finding Hyunjin grabbing the knot of his tie and loosening it around the collar before pulling it hard, seamlessly taking it off at once.

"You don't know how to kiss, huh?" He says with a smirk, undoing the cuffs of his shirt before rolling the sleeves up to his elbows.

"I know how to kiss," you say with a dramatic eye roll.

Felix places a sealed bottle of liquor and a bowl of ice on the table along with a sealed bottle of liquor, "I showed her how a good kiss should be," he says.

Hyunjin sits on the sofa and grabs the bottle of liquor to uncap it, "Show it to me then."

You snort thinking that he's joking and Felix shifts the attention to the drinks, "Let's have some drinks first!"

Felix drops an ice cube into each glass while Hyunjin carefully pours the liquor to fill all three glasses without spilling a drop.

However, on the third round of drinks, Felix holds his hand out at you, "Come on!"

You glance up and look at him in confusion, "Huh?"

"Time to put it to practice," he says, holding his hand farther at you.

You awkwardly place your hand in his and let him help you get up from the sofa, he pulls you so hard that you bump into him.

Felix is quick enough to catch you with his arm around your waist, "do you trust me?"

"To do what?"

He dramatically rolls his eyes at you and asks you again, "Do you trust me?"

In a way that he has no intention to harm you mentally or physically and you feel safe enough to do almost anything then the answer is yes.

"Yes," you reply.

Felix nods as he takes your answer, he holds you close and puts his hand on your jaw, "Just follow my lead, okay?"

You don't know what he's going to do but you nod anyway, "Okay."

He leans in and kisses you, a little harder than the previous one. With the hand steadily holding your jaw, he can easily part your mouth open by pulling your chin down and that way, he can deepen the kiss.

One thing that you have to admit is that Felix is a good kisser, his kiss contains all sorts of things, it's hot and wet, gentle yet intense at times.

He has thing thing that he does with his tongue, he likes to twirl it around yours before tugging it between his teeth. The moment he lets go, you're running out of breath.

"Good, right?" Felix asks.

You innocently nod, "Yeah."

"Now, you do it to me," he says, asking you to practice it on him.

You take another moment to take a breath before leaning in and kissing him, doing exactly what he did to you earlier. It might not be perfect but you're trying your best to impress him.

As you're busy kissing him, Felix takes your hands and places them on him, one on his shoulder and the other on the back of his neck. He then puts his arms around you and pulls you closer until there's no inches of space left between your bodies.

Feeling left out, Hyunjin gets up from his seat and stands behind you. You're not aware of his presence until you feel his hot breath against your ear.

"Guys, let me in on the fun," he mutters, planting his mouth on your neck.

What in the world is this? This should only exist in your wild fantasies. You have to actively tell your brain that it's real and it's happening right now.

Felix breaks the kiss only for Hyunjin to take his turn, turning you the other way and pressing a ķiss on you. His lips are softer than you imagined, kissing him feels like you're kissing the clouds.

Felix's hands are making their way to the front of your blouse, undoing the buttons, and then taking it off you, exposing your upper half body to the cool night air.

As if Hyunjin kissing you isn't enough, Felix puts your hair to the side so he can place searing kisses on the nape of your neck and shoulders. He swiftly snaps your bra open with one hand then pulls the straps of your bra down your shoulders.

Aware that your breasts are freed from their confines, Hyunjin glides his mouth down to your neck while Felix is cupping them in his hands, fingers lightly rubbing on the blossoming buds.

"Oh, they're perfect..." Hyunjin sighs in awe, licking his already wet lips.

He slightly bends down to be able to put his mouth on your breast with Felix holding it up for him, you gulp air as you watch him using his tongue to play with your nipple.

A moan escapes your mouth as Felix pushes your breasts to the middle which allows Hyunjin to take them both in his greedy mouth at once.

After a while, Hyunjin helps himself by holding them up himself. Felix lets go of you to take off his sweater, he then takes your arm to drape it around his neck.

"You're so soft, bub," he whispers into your ear.

You can feel his warm skin against your back and the outline of his abs as your hand aimlessly groping around his body.

Hyunjin detaches his mouth off your breast and he reaches past your shoulder to kiss Felix, making you caught in between them.

This is the first time you don't mind third-wheeling them, you look at how their lips are locked in a passionate kiss and feel jealous of it.

"Come here, babe," Hyunjin says, pulling you in and making you a part of that kiss.

You get to the point that you can't tell whose lips are you kissing, it's one, endless kiss, soft on soft on soft.

Felix manages to take Hyunjin's shirt off and gets it out of the way, it's at a time like this that you feel the need to step out to understand the situation you're in.

They're different but beautiful at the same time, one offers different charms than the other but they're as attractive in your eyes. Your eyes are having a feast as you look at their sculpted bodies like looking at two Greek gods and it indeed feels a little unreal.

"Let's spice things up," Felix comes up with a wild idea and it involves pushing Hyunjin onto the sofa.

Unsure of what to do, you follow Felix's lead, sitting on the carpeted floor as he parts his legs open and Felix starts to unzip his fly open. He doesn't waste time pulling his erection of out its confine and lets it spring free.

They're maintaining eye contact as Felix pumps his length in his hand and then he turns to you, taking your hand and wrapping it around Hyunjin's cock.

Hyunjin's cock is all about the length but that doesn't mean the girth isn't impressive, the pink tip is as luscious as his full lips, making you want to have a lick at it.

As if he reads through your head, Felix asks, "Want to try and take it in your mouth?"

Not really wanting the whole thing in your mouth, mostly because you doubt you can take it well but since he offered, you nod in answer.

"Want me to show it how?" He offers again.

And you nod again.

Felix licks his lips before starting, slightly tilting his head down and then licking the tip until it's wet. He takes a couple of inches into his mouth, adjusting himself to the size to finally take more of Hyunjin's length, and the next thing you know, he takes all of him in his mouth.

You don't know how he does that with his small mouth and without gagging, you keep gulping your air as you're watching him.

On the other hand, Hyunjin softly scratches Felix's head and lowly mutters, "Just like that, baby."

Felix gasps when he pulls away, a string of saliva connected his lips with the tip of Hyunjin's cock.

"Want to go for it?" he asks, scooting to the back to make room for you.

You like how they do not pressure you to do anything you don't want to and it creates a safe space, making you feel comfortable enough to continue.

To begin, you take a deep breath and let it out. Then you follow what Felix has shown you, licking the tip just like you wanted to and then slowly, taking him into your mouth.

Felix observes from the back, he gathers your hair in his hands and makes a makeshift ponytail on the back of your head.

"Oh, you're taking me so well," Hyunjin coos, can't stop looking at how his cock slides in and out of your mouth.

When you deem you have adjusted yourself to his size, you dare yourself to take more only to have it hit on your uvula and you immediately pull back.

"Slowly, bub, slowly," Felix softly mutters to your ear.

You reorganize your breath and try again, taking it slow as Felix instructed, only taking it as far as you can.

"You can use your hand," Felix suggests, putting your hand on the base of Hyunjin's cock to compensate for the rest you can't take in your mouth.

You sync the movement of your mouth and you can hear Hyunjin lowly moaning in response to the stimulations.

"Like that, yes," Hyunjin sighs, throwing his head in back, completely overwhelmed by what you're doing to him.

Seeing that encourages you to keep going without forgetting to breathe and relax.

"Good girl," Felix praises with a sweet kiss on your shoulder.

He lets you have it for another moment before stopping you, he holds your shoulder and says, "Want to do it together?"

Unable to give a verbal answer, you nod in answer.

You and Felix, each take a side and then stick your tongue out to run it up and down Hyunjin's cock. At times, you both go in the same direction, your tongues twirled around his cock and alternating between sucking and licking.

Oh, to be Hyunjin and blessed with the view of you and Felix, both of your mouths lathering around his cock. He's truly enjoying it, he tangles his hands in your heads and gently tugging at it.

"Oh, so good, so fucking good..." Hyunjin breathlessly murmurs.

Eventually, both of your lips meet on the tip and Felix pulls you for a kiss, he holds you by the neck, smiling as he kisses you.

"You're a fast learner," he praises you.

You shyly smile and mutter, "Thank you!"

He brushes your hair to the side, also removing the hair stuck to your lips then tucks it behind your ear. He leans in to place kisses along your jaw and continues the trail to your lips.

Felix gets up from the floor to sit on the sofa, he looks at you and says, "Come sit on my lap!"

You do what he asked, sitting on his lap and slowly resting your back against his chest. Felix smiles as he wraps his arms around you, his hands caress your skin with so much gentleness. You take the initiative, tilting his head so you can kiss him as he touches you all over.

Another pair of hands join in, Hyunjin's long fingers tugging at the waistband of your jeans as he plans to take your jeans off. Once he pops the button open, he slowly pulls them down and you're shivering as his fingertips graze your skin.

You feel exposed as you're only wearing your plain white underwear and Hyunjin's head is between your legs, hanging not far from your heating core.

"Relax, bub," Felix coos as he glides his hand down until it lands on your clothed sex, his dainty finger skillfully finds your bundle of nerves through the fabric and circles on it.

You're squirming against him and can't hold yourself back from moaning as he applies just the right pressure on it, making you drenched down there.

Felix puts his hand to cup your sex and rubs his fingers in between your folds, "Let's take this off, mmh?"

Hyunjin volunteers to do it for you, grabbing the elastic band of your underwear and Felix makes you hold your legs up so he can easily take it off of you.

Even after the underwear is off, Felix steadily holds your legs by the back of your knees and then parts your legs open, making you feel more exposed than before.

Felix presses a haste kiss on your jaw and says, "Hyunjin will take good care of you now."

Your attention is shifted to the man kissing down your inner thigh, you're squirming as his mouth inches closer to your wetness and when it finally makes contact, you sharply gasp.

If it weren't for Felix's hands steadily keeping your legs open, you would have clamped Hyunjin's head in between. The sight of his red, plush lips on your cunt is enough to arouse you, but now he's using his tongue, running it up and down your slit. He teases your hole with his finger before replacing it with his tongue.

"Oh, fu—" You press your lips together to stop yourself from finishing your curse.

Felix lets go of your leg so he can put his hand in Hyunjin's hair and pushes his head deeper into your wetness while Hyunjin is intensely staring back at him.

"You're doing good, darling," he says to him.

Hyunjin smiles in response to his words, he draws back to take a breath and opens his mouth wider to take more of you.

"Touch yourself," Felix says, taking your hands in his and he makes you cup your own breasts in your hands, kneading them together with him.

"Feel so good, right?" He murmurs, his breath tickling your ear.

You're overwhelmed, your legs are spasming at how intense it gets and the knot inside you tightening, you feel like imploding. You've never experienced these feelings before until now and you don't know how to handle it.

Hyunjin retracts his mouth, showing his mouth and chin glistening wet with your essence. He lands a lick between your folds and slowly, inserts his finger into you.

"Oh..." you moan, gripping Felix's forearm so hard your nails dug into the flesh.

Hyunjin smirks as he stares up at you while pumping his finger in and out of you. A while later, he pulls it out only to add another digit and now two of his long, slim fingers are inside you.

"The way you're sucking my fingers in..." he sighs, planting his mouth on your clit to tease it with his tongue and suck on it.

As if that isn't enough for him, he curls his fingers and he touches you right on the spot that makes you loudly moan. You can tell that Felix is looking at the baby monitor to check on Aster which reminds you to keep yourself quiet. But it's so hard as Hyunjin incessantly sucking on your clit with his fingers repeatedly hitting on your spot.

When Hyunjin pulls away, you can finally breathe out and relax, far too relaxed that you feel weak on the legs. Felix has to move you like you were a rag doll, he's laying you down on the sofa and then he lays next to you.

"Are you okay, bub?" He asks you with a gentle caress on your cheek.

Other than can't feel your legs? You nod, "I'm okay."

Felix softly smiles and plants his lips on yours again, making you a little less conscious and less insecure with yourself. You allow yourself to do as you please, touching his body and boldly putting your hand in his pants. You pull his pants down just enough to let his cock spring free and put your hand around it, slowly stroking it.

"Fast learner," he murmurs against your lips.

You triumphantly smile in response, opening your mouth for him so he can deepen the kiss.

The sofa isn't big enough to fit three people and Hyunjin ends up hovering above you, placing kisses on your neck and chest.

Felix's hand parts your legs open and he doesn't waste time touching you there again, rubbing on your clit as he kisses you.

The second Felix breaks the kiss, Hyunjin takes his turn. He lowers his mouth on you, hastily kissing you on the lips and then on the skin under your ear.

"Want to be inside you," he whispers.

He cups your jaw and looks at you with a piercing gaze, "Can I?"

The first thing you do is look at Felix to seek his permission first. Instead of doing that, he asks the same thing to you.

"Will you let Hyunjin do it, bub?"

It's too late to back out now, isn't it? Honestly, you've been wondering what it feels like to have something beautiful like what they have and now, you get the chance to experience that.

You swallow air and nod, but you know they need the consent to be uttered verbally, "Yes."

Rather than going right into it, Hyunjin and Felix work together to place kisses all over you, you believe they're trying to make you relax and it works, you feel less nervous with every searing kiss they plant on your skin.

Felix puts your leg over his body, exposing your gushing hole to Hyunjin and he stares at it while stroking his cock in his hand, so hard and veiny, pulsating with so much desire.

"You're so wet, bub," Felix hums as he lightly caresses your inner thighs with his fingertips.

Getting impatient, Hyunjin rubs his length in between your folds, lubricating it with your arousal. Felix helps to smear it all over his length and gives it a few pumps.

"And you're so hard, my love," he says to Hyunjin which he immediately responds with a haste kiss on his lips.

"You have to wait for your turn," Hyunjin says, leaving another peck on his lips before shifting his attention back to you.

Hyunjin tenderly kisses your lips and holds your chin as he says, "I'm going in, yeah?"

With one hand resting on your abdomen, he aims his cock toward your entrance and slowly pushes it in. Felix props his elbow against the sofa to be able to see how Hyunjin's cock disappeared into you little by little.

Oh, he stretches you out and fills you in immediately, you look down and he's not fully in yet.

"Just a little bit more, bub," Felix mutters to you, placing soothing rubs on your inner thigh.

"So tight," Hyunjin says through his gritted teeth, also overwhelmed by being inside you.

Hyunjin pulls back to slowly push it back inside you deeper than before. The slightest of movement and you can feel his whole length inside you.

"Oh! Oh, my—" you muffle yourself by pressing your lips together.

"You take him so well, bub," Felix coos, removing the hair covering your face then kisses you.

Hyunjin gives it a moment to adjust to each other, he rubs your abdomen and places a tender kiss on your sternum, "You feel so good around me," He murmurs, his lips brushing your skin as he speaks.

Felix gives Hyunjin's hair a ruffle and pulls him for a kiss, then together they place kisses on each side of your face. He turns your head to the side and captures your lips in a kiss as Hyunjin starts moving.

He starts slow and keeps a steady pace, he maintains eye contact with you if he isn't looking down at the way his cock slips in and out of you.

"Do I feel good?" Hyunjin asks in a soft tone and a soft gaze.

"Uh-huh," you answer between your moans.

Hyunjin smiles and he remains steadily thrusting into you, but adding more intensity to it, the skin slapping sound grows louder and echoes in the living room.

Felix buries his mouth in your neck while his hand goes down south, giving you extra stimulation by playing with your clit.

"Please, please..." you beg.

"Please, what?" Hyunjin asks with a faint smirk on his face.

You don't know why you plead in the first place but it's getting so overwhelming, you don't know how you can take this much and your brain is still able to function.

"Please..." you pathetically plead again.

Hyunjin pauses for a second, he props his hands on each side of your waist to give him more leverage, and that way, he can add more depth and intensity to his thrust.

"You want to cum, mmh?"

You eagerly nod even though you're not sure if that's what you want but you know it's what you need.

"You hear the girl," Felix says, putting his hand on Hyunjin's shoulder, "Give it to her, babe."

Hyunjin feels encouraged, he doesn't even need it at all, he's been thrusting into you non-stop, taking you closer and closer to your release. He brushes his hair to the back and adds speed to his thrusting.

You don't know that you've been crying until you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, your moaning and crying, sometimes it's a mix of the two, feeling so overwhelmed that your brain is short-circuit.

"My goodness, oh," your voice is shaking from how hard Hyunjin thrusts into you.

"Don't hold your breath," Felix speaks right into your ear, his teeth faintly nibbling on your ear.

But you keep holding your breath because if you don't, you feel like you're about to completely lose it and combust.

"Please, please," you plead again because it's the only word your brain can compute.

Hyunjin thrusts even faster and harder, your body quakes along to his movements. Felix holds your hand as if he knows you need something to hold on to.

"Oh, oh..." your moans turn into broken cries.

"You're close, mmh?" Hyunjin manages to say as he puts all of him to get you to your release.

Your eyes are screwed shut and more tears rolling down your cheeks, you feel hot all over even though your body is covered with a thin layer of sweat.

"I can't– can't take it anymore," you stutter your words as you choke on air from constantly moaning and crying.

"Just let go, bub, let go," Felix murmurs.

You let out a choked sob and follow his words, letting yourself go even if it means you're going to explode into a million little pieces.

Two, three thrusts later, you hit your climax and everything suddenly turns white. You feel faint but at the same time, you feel this wave of electricity surging through you.

You're completely out of it until a moment later, you open your eyes to find Hyunjin rushing to pull out of you. He then holds his cock in his hand, pumping it as fast as he could until the white of his seed spurts out of him.

"Oh, yeah, baby," he sighs while keeps pumping his cock.

Felix gasps in awe watching Hyunjin make white streaks all over your chest and stomach with his seed, glistening and feeling hot on your skin.

"Oh, look at that!" He looks at Hyunjin and says, "You cum a lot, honey."

Hyunjin stops pumping his cock once he deems he's done releasing his load. He tilts his head to the back and lets out a broken yet satisfied moan.

"Gosh! That was so fucking good," he says, placing a haste kiss on your parted mouth.

Felix uses his finger to take a swab of Hyunjin's cum and have a taste of it, he smiles as if he's just tasted something as sweet as honey. Guessing that you're curious about it too, he takes another swab at it and shoves it into your mouth.

"Isn't Hyunjin taste so sweet?" He asks.

You're too fucked out to respond and Felix notices it too, he lands a sweet kiss on your lips and jaw, then says, "It's okay, we'll take care of you."

You want to stay awake but you can barely keep your eyes open anymore, you're in and out of it for quite some time. You open your eyes and see Felix licking Hyunjin's cum off of you. You close your eyes and when you open them later, you find Hyunjin and Felix, both naked and kissing each other. The next time you open your eyes, you find Felix hovering above you while Hyunjin is thrusting into him from the back.

The last thing you remember is someone putting clothes on you and after that, it's all black.

-

This is embarrassing. You wake up in the guest room wearing Felix's sweater and short pants which means someone must have put those clothes on you and then carried you to the guest room so you can comfortably sleep on the bed.

What's more embarrassing is you'll meet them whether you like it or not because it's their house.

You get off the bed and find your pile of clothes on the chair, even more embarrassing that you have to meet them wearing their clothes.

This why they called it a walk of shame and you're stupid to ever think that it would never happen to you.

Out of the guest room, you head straight to the kitchen because it's easier to face one of them first and Felix is always in the kitchen.

Felix is mysteriously looking glowing and radiant like usual, it's like he didn't drink the same amount of alcohol to you or got in a threesome last night.

He turns around and immediately notices you coming, "Good morning, bub!"

Unlike him, you're aware that you must have looked swollen and terrifying so you cup your face with both hands.

"Morning," you croak.

He turns around again to grab a glass and fills it with orange juice, then serves it to you, "How are you feeling?"

You shyly chuckle and say, "Tired."

"Reasonable," Felix comments. He gasps as if he gets reminded of something, he pulls open the kitchen drawer and takes out something.

"You might want to take this," he says, putting a Morning After pill for you.

It's endearing that he pays more attention to such things than yourself. You rip it open with your fingers and waste no time to take it.

"Thank you," you mutter as you wash it down with orange juice.

"It's not time for Aster to have a sibling yet," Felix jokingly says.

It's actually nice that he treats you like any other normal day, you were really afraid that what happened last night would make things awkward between you and him but turns out, it was all in your head.

But you don't know for sure since you've only met Felix and—

"I heard Aster is getting a sibling?" Hyunjin says from the top of the stairs, all dressed for work and carrying Aster on his shoulders.

"Haha you guys are so funny," you say with dry laughs.

How is it fair that you're the only one looking like shit this morning?

"Airplane!" Aster shouts while patting Hyunjin's head with his tiny hands.

Hyunjin grabs his hands and stretches them out, swaying them left to right like an airplane. Aster is giggling as Hyunjin jumps onto the base of the stairs.

"Time for breakfast, sweet boy," Felix says, ordering Aster to sit in his baby chair.

Hyunjin tilts his head to look at his little one, "Time's up, little buddy."

Aster giggles and plants his mouth on Hyunjin's head to place a kiss, "Oh, thank you, sweetheart."

He then carefully takes him down from his shoulders and sits him in his baby chair.

"Aster's favorites for breakfast," Felix says as he serves his plate in front of him.

"Blueberries," Aster mumbles with drooĺ dribbling down the corner of his mouth.

"And yogurt," Felix adds, putting the small spoon on his plate.

"Thank you, dada," he mumbles with his hair tousled and his cheeks flushed.

"For you, scrambled egg and toast and bacon," Felix says, putting your plate of breakfast.

"Thank you," you mutter.

"And for my breakfast?" Hyunjin asks as he walks over to him and pulls him into a hug.

Felix smiles as he puts his arms around him and affectionately kisses him on the lips. He pulls away but Hyunjin presses another kiss on him, longer and lingering.

Them making you feel like you're third-wheeling again means things are alright and it's a relief to know that what happened last night doesn't change anything about them or worse, ruin what they have. You know you can't forgive yourself if what you did would ruin this very beautiful, precious thing of theirs.

"I can't stay for breakfast," Hyunjin says.

Felix stops him from turning away, he tugs at the collar of his shirt and fixes his tie for him, "Are we still on for a date night?"

"I should take a raincheck on that," Hyunjin answers, tilting his head upward as Felix tightens the knot of his tie.

"That's okay. We can do it next week," Felix says, now flattening the lapels of Hyunjin's suit jacket.

"Invite Bubba on our next date night," Hyunjin suggests a wild idea, flashing his sly smirk at you.

"And we'd get a sibling for Aster," he jokingly adds.

You roll your eyes at him and fill your mouth with food.

Once he's done, Felix lets him go and hands him his cup of coffee, "well, I want a baby girl," he also piles in on the joke.

"We can arrange that," Hyunjin says, smirking as he sips his coffee.

Can't say you agree to get Aster a sibling but you feel good knowing that your presence doesn't feel like a threat to them, if anything, they make you feel like you're a part of them.

"I have to go," Hyunjin says, taking another sip of his coffee before putting it down on the kitchen counter. He runs to get his briefcase and walks back to the kitchen to kiss his husband.

"Have a great day at work," Felix says after placing a peck on Hyunjin's lips.

Hyunjin sweetly kisses him on the cheek and whispers, "Love you."

Felix hugs him with such love and says back, "I love you."

Oh, they're disgustingly in love with each other, you can't decide if you get the urge to vomit from watching them or you're merely filled with so much jealousy.

Hyunjin walks up to Aster and plants a long kiss on the top of his head, "Daddy has to go to work, okay?"

Aster reaches for him and adorably places a kiss on Hyunjin's cheek, "Buhbye," he says while waving his hand at him.

"Be good, my sweet angel," he says for the last time with an endearing pat on the head.

As for you, he places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes it, "Have a great day, bub," he says.

"You too, Mr. Hwang," you shorty respond while chewing your food.

"It's Hyunjin," he says with a fed-up tone.

"You too, it's Hyunjin," you say with a sly grin.

Hyunjin ignores you and takes another look at Felix, staring at him with wistful eyes as if he's reluctant to go to work, and then waves bye at him.

A moment after Hyunjin leaves, Felix notices that Hyunjin left his car keys on the kitchen island.

"Honey, you're forgetting something," Felix shouts as Hyunjin hasn't gone out of the house.

You can hear his rushed footsteps and he returns to the kitchen, unexpectedly kissing Felix on the cheek.

"I'm going now," he says with a smile, thinking that the thing he forgot is kissing him bye.

"Honey!" Felix groans while laughing and you also burst out laughing from witnessing it.

"What?" Hyunjin asks in utter confusion.

Felix lifts the car keys and shows it to him, "You forgot your car keys."

"Oh?" He gasps with his mouth forming a perfect O shape, he innocently takes the keys out of Felix's hand and uses it as an excuse to kiss him again.

It's hard to not get jealous of them because you see, if there's one thing that makes you believe in love, it's them.

-

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Yunho had been planning this night for weeks. With the help of resident hopeless romantic, his close friend Seonghwa, he was certain the preparations couldn't of gone any better.

A romantic dinner followed by a walk in the park to a decided upon clearing, where you two could watch the stars together. Then, while you were distracted by the constellations, he would get down on one knee and ask you the question that's been weighing on his mind and even heavier on his heart for as long as he's known you.

Truly, he's known all along. Blurted it out, too, before he could stop himself on what was just your very second date together. That he could imagine himself marrying you. He had turned red in the face from the blunder while you only giggled. He was relieved his declaration hadn't bothered you at all, and spurred on by the sound of your unabashed joy, he felt all the more assured of his feelings.

Seonghwa had suggested not doing anything too out of the ordinary from your regular date nights to not draw any suspicion. Yunho agreed with this, as difficult as it was not to pounce on you from sheer excitement after finally seeing you in the dress he had bought you just for this evening. You both occasionally coordinated the other for your respective planned date nights, so you'd had no qualms about wearing what he had picked out for you. You looked a dream in the dark red fabric, the color suiting you perfectly and the fit even better than Yunho could've imagined (women's sizing was a complete mystery to him, and so he felt once again grateful to have had Seonghwa's help).

He finds himself staring at the expanse of your bare shoulders when you call him on it, his gaze snapping to meet your's with what can only be a blinding smile. He can't hide his enthusiasm in the slightest, but given your past comparisons of him to that of a hyperactive puppy on just any regular day, he's hopeful that his demeanor comes as no surprise to you. The star gazing would be new for you both, but otherwise, you didn't seem the slightest bit privy to his actual plans. He feels positive that the night is already going so well.

Until it doesn't.

"Sunday?" Yunho asked, brows pulled together in confusion. "Are you sure? I'm positive I made the reservation for Saturday."

Yunho pats down his pants, the weight of the ring in his front pocket suddenly feeling so much heavier, and sighs when he can't find the familiar imprint of his phone. Of course, he'd left it in his car.

"I'm sorry, sir," the hostess says, tapping on the screen in front of her. "Your reservation was made for the 21st."

"Today's the 20th?" He mumbles to himself. He had prepared for everything so thoroughly, how could he have gotten the actual date wrong?

"It happens, love," you reassure from beside him. He glances over as you rub his arm, an unwavering smile still present on your face. "There's an Italian place across the street. I'm pretty sure they're reservation optional."

Yunho relaxes at your quick thinking. He had felt himself begin to spiral, already believing the whole night was ruined because he somehow messed up this one little thing. He realizes he shouldn't let a small mix up change the entire course of the night, so he nods, giving you an appreciative grin as he agrees.

The place you mentioned is, in fact, directly across from your usual date spot. Yunho never paid it much mind, as you two only ever came to this side of town for the same restaurant every time. But standing outside of it now, the building is just as inviting. Warm lighting shining through the iron windows and then the door when he holds it open for you. The blend of aromas from where you enter is pleasant, and he almost feels silly for nearly panicking over something so honestly small. It was a shame the same restaurant he'd officially asked you out in wouldn't be apart of your proposal story now, but while you appreciated those kinds of sentimental attachments as much as he did, he knew better than to think it would actually change anything for you.

(Yunho had asked you before about what your dream proposal might look like. He had imagined something like a ferris wheel ride, or watching the fireworks together on a warm summer night. A customary dish from your dream travel destination or maybe a home cooked picnic.

"You could propose to me with a paper ring and I'd still say yes," you told him so easily. As if your words didn't make his heart nearly leap entirely out of his chest and run home to you, it's true holder, from the deep affection that floods him.

The topic of marriage wasn't uncharted territories for you both. You talked about it before as something you would equally want whenever the timing is right. Yunho only ever held out for your sake, really. In his heart of hearts he'd always known it belonged with you.

Unable to contain the love he feels any longer, he pressed a firm kiss onto your cheek, "I just want it to be perfect for you. All you've ever dreamed of."

Yunho means it with his whole being. You could ask for the world and he'd find a way to give it to you, or at least run to the very ends of the Earth trying. Never giving up on his search unless you were the one to then tell him to.

You sit up suddenly, him pouting at the loss of warmth by his side while you turn to him seriously. Cupping either side of his face as your eyes pour into his, you make absolute sure that your words are heard loud and clear.

"You are everything I've ever dreamed of, Yunho.")

You're sat comfortably in a booth meant for two when the waiter brings your food, you both having settled for variations of the same pasta dish. The smell is just as inviting as when you first walked it.

As Yunho always does, he waits for you to begin eating first. It's only after you take a bite that he then picks up his own fork, and as he's bringing it to his mouth, he notices your gaze fixed on him.

"What?" He asks, nonchalant. He takes the bite off the fork while your shoulder shake with barley contained laughter. His chewing slows to a stop as the realization dawns on him. He looks down at his plate, a frown creasing between his brows. "Oh. This tastes horrible."

Your giggles break through at that, his head shooting up at the sound and a grin taking over his face on it's own accord.

"Yeah," you agree, smiling despite your words. "It does."

Yunho can't help but chuckle as well, and before long you're both unable to contain your equally loud laughter. Yunho can't find it in himself to be upset at yet another unexpected bump in the road when you just find it so funny.

It's a while before you two are able to look at each other again without laughing, and once you can, Yunho suggests taking your chances on the food vendors you had passed coming inside. Street skewers sound like fine dining compared to the over salted yet still bland pasta in front of you, so you agree.

The chicken skewers are in fact a lot tastier. You and Yunho share your respective two before your walking down the same street as before, interlaced hands swinging between you.

Dinner was unfortunate, but the second half at least was completely out of Yunho's control. He feels better because of that and your easy going reaction to it all. In the future, he imagines you too cracking up over it again, about how the night he proposed was so far from perfect but ended as happily as ever. He can't physically smile any wider at the thought of what's to come, so he squeezes your hand in barley contained excitement.

He can no longer deny the nerves twisting in his stomach once more. The actual proposal was the one thing that could absolutely not go wrong. He couldn't picture in any way that it could - you were a few minutes walk away from the park it was meant to happen, and he could still feel the weight of the ring that he had no way of forgetting in his pocket. Surely it would be smooth sailing from here.

Yunho's steps stutter as he recognizes what sounds suspiciously like thunder rumbling overhead. He huffs a laugh, because there's no way - he must be just so on edge that he's imagining things now. The weather was the one thing he had worried about the most and planned carefully around from the beginning, constantly checking the forecast all morning just to reassure himself. It'd read as a zero percent chance for rain the whole day. No signs of a drizzle at any point this week, even.

But then the first drop falls, and Yunho swears this must be a joke. He tilts his head up as the rain starts, picking up momentum a lot quicker with every passing second. You come to the realization just as he does, shoulders rising as a surprised gasp leaves your lips.

"Let's get you inside," he says, glancing around for any kind of overhang. The closest one he sees is just up ahead, a little further into your walk and closer to the parking lot his car is in.

Determined to at least get you out of the rain before deciding his next course of action, he tugs on your arm. The rain only falls harder with every hurried step you both take, and even if your positively soaked already, Yunho tries to pull you along quickly. Belatedly taking into account how damp the sidewalk has already gotten too, until you almost entirely slip out of his hold and onto your knees on the concrete.

He manages to stop you from completely face planting, but doesn't miss your slight wince as he helps you back to your feet. Yunho decides the overhang is a lost cause and you're better off going straight to the car instead. So, with hurried but more cautious steps, he takes you straight there.

You're both equally drenched by the time he helps you into the passenger seat, and rounds the car to his driver's side. He breathes a sigh of relief once he's finally out of the frigid rain, and quickly cranks up the car to get the heat started before you get sick. He flicks on the overhead lights as he turns to check on you.

"Are you-" Yunho starts to ask, but his gaze falls onto you knee that presumably had hit the ground after your fall. The other came out unscathed, luckily, but he doesn't feel the least bit better when your left knee is scrapped enough to have small droplets of blood forming. "Oh, love, you're bleeding..."

"I'm okay," you reassure, a smile on your lips despite the angry redness of your knee. "It's just a little scratch."

Yunho still feels terrible, even as your sat on the bathroom sink while he dabs at the scrapes with feather like touches. The cotton ball in his hand hardly makes any contact with the wounds, and you can't help but laugh softly at his overly careful antics.

"I don't know if that's doing much of anything," you tease lightheartedly, hoping to ease some of the crease between his brows.

It does no such thing, "I don't want to hurt you even more."

You sigh, "Yunho, baby..." His frown is still fixated on your wounded knee, so you gently cup his chin to encourage his attention back to you. "Look at me. I'm okay, I promise."

You bring your right hand to hold the other side of his jaw, holding firm eye contact to ensure your words stick. Presumably they do, but you don't anticipate Yunho's own filling with tears in matter of seconds.

"I ruined everything," he mumbles, attempting to blink away the wetness clouding his vision. It doesn't work, and the first tear makes a pitiful trail down cheek, tugging on your heart as it goes.

"What?" You register his words, mirroring his frown. "Baby, you did nothing wrong."

Yunho stands up straight, running a hand through his damp hair as he begins to ramble, "Tonight was supposed to be perfect for you. Hyung helped me plan everything and it all seemed so nice but then absolutely everything that could've went wrong did and then I made you trip and - and I just want marry you but now you're hurt because of me and I-"

"Yun," you cut him off with a careful hand on his shoulder. "You want to marry me?"

Yunho freezes, his brain catching up to his mouth and he groans, "I really did ruin everything."

You sigh, lifting your hands back up to hold Yunho's shoulders firmly in place.

"Ask me," you simply say.

Yunho sputters for a moment, searching your expression for any hint of upset or disappointment. He doesn't know how to feel that he finds none, only the slight quirk at the end of your lips, pushing an all knowing grin.

"What?" He asks, the fresh tear tracks on his cheeks causing a painful twist in your chest. You reach up to gently dab the wetness away, directing him a warm smile.

"Do you have the ring on you?" You ask instead.

Stunned, Yunho scrambles to pat down his pockets. The one thing that hadn't gone completely wrong all night - he didn't forget the ring. He pulls the velvet black box out of his back pocket. He holds it in his hand, staring blankly at you.

"Well?" You probe, crossing your arms over your chest. "Are you going to ask me?"

Yunho blinks dumbly as he comes to understand. He feels himself wanting to cry again for an entirely different reason. Biting back his own grin, he lowers himself to one knee - not an easy feat given your compact apartment bathroom. His back foot hits the wall and he's nearly in your lap by the end of it, but you're both too giddy to care.

"My love," he starts, feeling unsure. "Tonight did not go how I envisioned. At all. But it did reaffirm everything I already knew. I've always known, and right now I believe. In us and our future, more than anything. Will you-"

"Yes," you cut him off, unable to wait another second. "Yes, Yunho, God, yes."

You throw your arms around his neck, laughing and shaking and feeling the happiest you've ever felt. Yunho laughs as well, encircling his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss against your bare shoulder.

"Can you let me finish?" He teases easily, feeling a thousand times lighter and happier himself. You nod against his shoulder and huff a laugh of your own.

"Right, sorry," you pull back with a sniffle, wiping under your wet eyes. "Please continue."

Yunho laughs, his eyes filling with tears of joy as he opens the box back between you, "Will you marry me?"

A swarm of butterflies erupt inside of you, a feeling you haven't stopped experiencing since meeting Yunho all those years ago, and you nods hurriedly, "Yes. Yes, I'll marry you, Yunho."

His face nearly splits in two with the grin that takes over his features. He wastes no time pulling the ring from the box and slipping it onto your finger, heart warming at the perfect fit.

It's beautiful, practically glimmering under your overhead bathroom lighting, but all you want right now is to be in Yunho's arms once more.

So you toss yourself back into his embrace, holding on like your life and mind and heart depends on it. He clutches onto you just as tightly, pressing kiss after kiss into your still damp hair.

Yunho needs to finish cleaning your knee. He also wants to make you take a shower and strip of your wet clothes before a cold really sets in and so he can proper bandage the wound after. But for now, this is all he wants. To be holding the love of his life and now fiancée at the end of a long day that, despite everything, had turned out even more perfect than he could've ever imagined.

Yunho knew he could look forward to even more bad days, so long as he always had you to come home to at the end of it all.

the rattle of your truck must have alerted them to your arrival, because they come out with warm smiles and even warmer greetings. they exchange handshakes and hugs with your parents, then the attention falls to you. there’s a boy who peers out from behind his mother’s legs as she compliments your dress, his round eyes brimming with curiosity at the sight of a potential playmate other than his sister. you cling onto the side of your mother’s dress and the adults share a laugh.

the boy’s mother gently nudges him forward. “go on, sweetie. say hi.”

with another nod of encouragement, the boy shuffles closer to you with an impish grin. you realise he’s shorter than you are. “hi, i’m san. i’m six years old and i like the sea!”

the grip you have on your mother’s dress loosens a little as you mumble shyly in return, “i’m y/n. i’m six and i like the sea too.”

his smile grows impossibly wider, and his eyes and remaining reservations disappear at your words. reaching out, he grabs your hand in a physical declaration of friendship. your other hand falls away from your mother’s dress.

“we’re going to go play at the beach,” he announces, because you’re his friend now and friends play together.

on your first day of summer in namhae, you find that summer takes the form of a skinny, dimpled boy who loves the sea and holding hands.

“sannie!” you skid across the wooden floorboards of his living room in your sock-clad feet, startling his father who is sitting on the couch with a newspaper.

he peers at you from above his glasses with the smile that stays consistently warm, be it from him or his son. he chuckles, “hello, sweetheart, here to play with san again?”

you bow slightly in greeting and nod before you whiz off once more in the direction of san’s room. summer vacation has only just started and you and san have already spent seven summers together, but there are crabs to chase and waves to splash and sandcastles to build so there’s not a day to be wasted.

“choi san!” you holler again, thundering up to his door. you’re about to yank it open when san opens it from the opposite side, excitement already plastered across his face as he starts to yell your name too.

the moment he appears, you hurtle into his chest for a hug that ends up knocking you both off-balance. he stumbles backwards with you in his arms and rebounds off the edge of his bed, sending you both sprawling onto the floor in a fit of laughter. you’ve become familiar with the way his bedroom floor feels from these exact moments, and you’ve also become familiar with the way san’s arms feel around you from being wrapped up in his tight cuddles. you may love the sea, but you love being with san just a little more.

“do you have your bucket?” you ask, still tangled together on the floor in a mess of limbs and untamed hair.

san props himself up on an elbow and reaches behind you to reveal a large, plastic bucket. it’s purple with a white handle and it matches yours; blue with a white handle and still lying on its side from when you dropped it in favour of hugging san.

you sweep up your bucket with a cheeky grin, “race you to the beach!” using san’s chest as leverage to stand up, then pushing him onto his back again by his shoulders for good measure, you take off for the door.

“that’s cheating!” he yells after you.

you sprint with glee back through the living room, barely managing to brake in time to avoid running headfirst into his mother. you greet and farewell her in a single breath before you’re off again, forgoing your sandals when you hear the thundering of san’s footsteps and a warbled bye mum! bye dad! catching up behind you.

the pavement is hot under the bare soles of your feet but soon enough you leap off the sidewalk, bucket clattering in your hand, and the ground turns cool and soft as you run across the sinking sand. san jumps after you with a battlecry of his own and you scream when you feel him right on your tail. he catches up as you near the waves and with a final burst of energy, he grabs your hand and tugs you along with him.

your grip on your bucket is lost once more when you yelp and focus on keeping up instead– san’s only got an inch on you now but why is he so much faster than you? the wet sand starts to grow colder, salty water splashing everywhere the further you sprint. neither of you slow down– not that you could with san dragging you along right into the thick of the crashing waves as he whoops.

you dread the day san will actually be tall enough to pick you up and toss you into the water, but for now, you give him the satisfaction of pretending. you wait for him to bend down a little, then you kick the water right into his face. he splutters indignantly and blinks the sting away until he can see the wide smirk on your face. his tongue pokes his cheek as he gives you a scandalised smile, before he cocks his head and sniggers, “your turn.”

you take that as your cue to run. san dips his bucket into the water, scooping it up full to the brim, then starts chasing you with faux anger that makes you shriek in delight. you yell breathless apologies over your shoulder in between giggles but they all fall upon deaf ears as he continues streaking after you, bucket held high like a madman with an axe.

you end up slowing down because it’s hard to run through water, and you’re met with the icy downpour of water over your head. san laughs triumphantly when you look at him with the ferocity of a soaked kitten. you eye his bucket and weigh up the odds of snatching it out of his hands versus dunking him headfirst underwater through sheer force. realistically, you have no chances of doing either. plus, san knows you too well.

“use your own bucket, you loser,” he banters as he hides his. and yet, he walks back to retrieve your bucket for you before it’s swept out by the waves.

“are you cold?” san asks whilst passing it to you.

there’s vigour and liveliness thrumming through your every vein. “no,” you answer, “‘m not cold.” never with you.

he nods, “let me know if you do get cold, okay? i’ll grab you a jacket or something.”

“my house is literally next to yours. i can get one if i need to,” you chuckle.

“i know, but it’s the principle of it. just shut up and let me have my chivalrous moment.” san sits with the characteristic huffiness of a teenager who thinks he’s all grown up now that he’s in high school. but it’s not very convincing when he immediately starts to shovel sand into his bucket with the enthusiasm of a puppy.

“okay, thank you, sannie. i’ll let you know if i so much as shiver,” you dotingly appease him.

he nods diligently, then pats the sand next to him for you to sit down too. you join him in filling up the buckets with sand so that you two can make your thirty second attempt to build a five-tiered sandcastle pyramid. so far, you’ve only ever gotten to the third layer before it starts to crumble apart.

“what’s wrong?” you ask when san stops packing the sand into his bucket.

you realise he’s distracted by something in the distance and you follow his line of sight to find a lone surfer riding a wave in the horizon. san watches as the man’s body becomes an extension of the ocean– a dancing duet with the rolling waves as he stands steadily on his board with powerful elegance. when the board glides towards the shore, the man spreads his arms like an eagle’s wings and lets himself fall backwards into the sway of the water.

san is suddenly filled with yearning to learn of the sea’s choreography. he declares, “i want to become a surfer.”

“what happened to becoming a dancer?” you raise an eyebrow. because if there’s one thing that san loves just as much as the sea, then it’s dancing.

“becoming a dancer is still my dream. i meant surfing as an interest,” he breathes out. “just look at him. he looks so…free.”

you can see it in the way san’s eyes follow the surfer’s movements and sparkle with wonder– the moment he falls utterly and hopelessly in love. “then try it,” you encourage, “what’s stopping you?”

san tears his gaze away from the ocean to look at you instead. the same, loving gaze stays on his face. “nothing,” he proclaims with a growing smile. “absolutely nothing.”

san has all the summers in the world to surf. and you’ll be there with him for every single one.

you watch as san fixes his surfboard to the top of his black jeep– the last of his luggage to be loaded.

“i don’t get why you’re taking that with you. there’s probably nowhere to even surf in seoul.” you know you sound like a snobby six-year-old and not the eighteen-year-old that you are, but you don’t really care right now. not when san is leaving and you won’t be able to attend college together like you thought you would be.

tugging on the straps once more to check that they’re secure, he chuckles, “doesn’t hurt to take it just in case.” when he sees the forlorn look on your face he adds, “i’ll be back every summer, yeah?”

“it won’t be the same. who am i going to hang out with every day?” you grumble.

san laughs endearingly, “it’s only until i graduate.”

“or you find a job or a girlfriend and then you’ll stay in seoul forever.” you cross your arms defiantly as san steps closer and reaches out to ruffle your hair. where you had stopped growing at fifteen, san is still growing and he now towers almost half a head over you.

“just four years–no job, no girlfriend–and then i’ll be back. i promise.” he opens his arms a little, “now, do i get my goodbye hug or do i need to tickle it out of you instead?”

you huff before uncrossing your arms and sinking into his warm embrace. he folds you into his chest as your arms wrap around his waist. closing your eyes, you memorise the feeling of his back muscles flexing under your hands while he gently rocks you side to side. you soak in his body heat that swaddles your entire being in safety and home. you breathe him in one last time when you bury your face in the crook of his neck, nuzzling the steady pulse that beats there.

“i’ll miss you,” you whisper, because you don’t trust your voice not to crack if you speak any louder.

san presses a soft kiss against your hairline and admits, “i’ll miss you more.”

you bite back the urge to respond with ‘then stay’, cherishing the moment for a little longer instead, before you step away so that he can say his goodbyes to his family. he hugs them one by one; his father, his sister, haneul, and lastly, his mother. she’s discreetly wiping at her tears and you have to look away so that you don’t start crying too. because if you start crying, everything will become blurry, and you can’t afford that when this is the last time you’ll see san until next summer.

you all gather around the driver’s window that’s rolled down to the very bottom when san is finally seated. seeing him buckle his seatbelt ready to leave overwhelms you with a sense of finality and your eyes well up before you can blink the hotness away. san stretches a hand out to thumb away your tears and makes a sad noise, “don’t cry, please? we can call whenever you want.”

you sniffle, “call me when you arrive?”

he nods with that dimpled smile you are already starting to miss. and then just like that, your best friend is gone. you stand outside his house for a stretch of time, even after the outline of his jeep has long since disappeared into the distance. it may be the last week of summer, but it feels like it’s the middle of winter today.

san’s eyes flick upwards to look in the rearview mirror, even though he hasn’t been able to see your reflection the last three times he’s looked. he had tried to appear as collected as he could to avoid making it any harder for you, but now he regrets not holding your hand a little longer; a little tighter. and if san tears up a little as he starts the four-hour drive up to seoul, then that’s between him, the car, and the playlist you made just for him.

you absentmindedly tug on a crease in your bed sheets as you laze on your bed, phone on speaker so you don’t have to hold it. “what was that?” you pull your device closer to your ear. “are you going somewhere?”

there it is again– the beeping sound of a car in reverse. the warning signal stops as san answers vaguely, “home.”

you jolt up into a sitting position, a growing sense of excitement making its way across your face as you dare to ask, “home?”

“yeah, home,” san confirms, and you can hear the smile in his voice this time. “i told you i’d see you soon, didn’t i?”

“i didn’t think you meant in five literal minutes,” you almost trip over your own feet in your hurry to slip some shoes on. “oh my god, is that why you said you couldn’t facetime me?”

you can hear his answer this time– not the scratchy voice that comes from your speaker, no– the smooth deepness of san’s voice close by. and there he is. after almost a year of freezing days, absent dimples and longing calls, choi san is finally back in namhae for the summer.

in quick succession, you notice three things. one, san has returned from seoul with triple the number of surfboards that he left with, strapped to the top of his black jeep. two, said man is now almost a whole head taller than you as he watches you with a smirk and disconnects your call. and three, he’s not alone.

if you think that san is tall, then the two guys that hop out of the jeep after him are even taller. one of them runs a veiny hand through his dark brown locks, which fall back down to softly frame his face. the other turns in your direction after closing his door and you realise you’ve seen him before– both of them, actually.

on top of your spontaneous calls with san, you facetime him every friday afternoon after your own classes have finished. he’s usually in one of the university’s dance studios because, as a dance major at kq university, the studio is basically his second home. san mentions his friends every now and then and they’ll appear behind him to say hello to you or you’ll be able to hear them in the background of the call.

quite frankly, the crusty quality of san’s front camera hardly does them justice because wow. they’re hot. and tall. they’re not letting you forget that fact when the three of them step away from the jeep and closer to where you and san’s family are waiting to welcome them.

san greets his parents with a hug before he gestures to his friends one by one, “yunho, mingi. the friends i was telling you about.”

yunho and mingi thank san’s parents for letting them stay the summer and apologise in advance for the inconvenience. but from the way they’re immediately told that their extended stay is more than welcome and that hopefully the drive down from seoul wasn’t too tiring, you know san’s parents have already adopted the two well-mannered boys as their own sons.

“hey, pipsqueak,” san sidles up to your side whilst his parents fuss over his friends.

you look at him, appalled by the sudden nickname, and even more so as you swat his hand away when he playfully ruffles your hair to tease, “looks like you’ve been busy doing everything but growing.”

“on second thoughts, maybe i don’t really miss you.”

san laughs, the tinkle of the sound like the crisp smell of the ocean during sunrise. he pulls you into him and that’s all it takes for you to melt in his embrace. despite your earlier quip, you’ve missed san terribly. it finally feels like namhae now that his familiar arms are around you again.

the rumble of san’s chest is soothing as he says, “well, i miss you. it’s good to be back home.”

you pull back a little to look up at him and god, he’s gotten so much taller. “it’s good to have you back home, choi san.”

the sound of approaching footsteps breaks your hug apart and you give the two boys a friendly smile as san roughly introduces your names, “but you all already know that, considering you guys basically see each other every week.”

“on top of the fact that san doesn’t shut up about you,” mingi jokes.

san punches him in the arm and mingi amends himself with a laugh, “namhae! he doesn’t shut up about namhae!”

yunho snorts, then offers you a small hug as he properly introduces himself. he leaves enough space between your bodies for the holy spirit to boogie when his arms encircle you, and you honestly find his courtesy extremely endearing.

“are you two also dance majors?” you ask.

“yeah, so we share some classes together,” yunho explains. “mingi and san are in the department of dance performance though, whereas i’m in choreo, so they have all their classes together and i only share the core ones with them.”

“good thing, too,” mingi joins the conversation and rests an arm around the other’s shoulder. “i’ve known him since high school and i was honestly starting to get a little sick of his face.”

he earns himself a jab to the side and he keels over with a dramatic groan. both san and yunho ignore him in favour of stepping back towards the jeep to unload their surfboards. you eye the boards with curiosity, recognising the white deck with the yellow and blue tail to be san’s. the design is simple, but san had used his own money to purchase it as his first transition board after the beginner-level mini malibu his parents had gifted him, so it’s his baby.

“are these all yours?” you question as san rests the tail of his board on the ground.

he shakes his head with a flustered laugh, “the guys brought theirs along too.”

mingi reaches for his board after yunho takes his and your jaw drops to the ground. “you all surf? wait, so you can surf in seoul?!”

“no, you were right. you can’t,” san chortles in embarrassment. “but there are a couple of indoor surfing places that we can go to.”

mingi hikes his surfboard against his hip, “doesn’t beat the real thing, though.”

“nope, which is exactly why we’re crashing. sorry, by the way–we probably should’ve asked you whether we could come,” yunho scratches the back of his neck.

you frown, “of course you can. it’s not like i’m the town head of namhae or anything.”

“but they know we spend our summers together,” san lightly bumps you with the side of his hip.

“oh,” you can feel heat creeping across your cheeks, so you force it away by jumping on the opportunity to tease, “you know what? mingi was right. you don’t shut up about me, do you.”

mingi hollers at the ammunition you have just given him for future use and even yunho slaps his hand over his mouth to hide his smile. it’s amusing to see san flustering so easily now that there’s a new dynamic of friendship between you and the other two boys, and san resorts to giving both of his friends’ asses a good-natured kick in the direction of the beach.

as they lumber off with their boards sniggering, san effortlessly hoists his own board up and sideways and beckons, “let’s go.”

“you know i can’t surf, san.”

he flicks your nose fondly with his free hand, “not to surf, silly. let’s go get our buckets.”

your eyes widen and you stand on your tiptoes with excitement, “buckets?”

“of course,” san waggles his eyebrows up and down with his dual dimples. “we’ve got some serious sandcastle-building to show off.”

half an hour later, all three surfboards are tossed to one side in the wet sand as you share the buckets for an intense showdown between the ‘namhae ninjas’ and the ‘highschool homies’. san had shot down your suggestion to alliterate your team name with the word ‘neighbours’, claiming it was an insult to the bestfriendshipness between you two, but hadn’t been able to come up with a much better alternative himself.

san holds his breath as you upturn another moulded bucket of sand onto the third tier of your sandcastle pyramid. with little surprise, the foundation starts to crumble and triggers a chain reaction that topples it all over. as always, some things just don’t change, even over time.

mingi laughs at your sandy ruins with an awful lot of audacity for someone who had watched yunho build most of their sandcastle, only to then add a little stick at the very top as a finishing touch. he grabs his phone from where he had left it on the safety of his discarded towel and holds up the front camera to take a photo of you all.

where there used to be two sandcastles between two friends, there are now two sandcastles between four. mingi snaps the photo, eternalising the moment. some things do change over time, and sometimes, change is just the beginning of a new chapter.

“which one do you think looks better?”

your mother takes a step back to scrutinise yunho’s pick. “this one,” she points, “the other colour palette clashes too much.”

san nods solemnly in agreement and mingi squints at his own choice from beside. with the seriousness of their expressions, one would think that they’re discussing investment properties. in reality, you’re watching your trio of friends and your mother earnestly matching and colour-coordinating the floral prints of your father’s flowy farming pants to their button-up shirts.

noticing the dubious frown on mingi’s face, your mother nonchalantly skims her fingertips over the pants he’s holding. “this is one of my favourites because it has little leaves on it,” she remarks, before dropping her voice to a whisper so that only mingi can hear her next words. “it matches your shirt. i think you’ll look the best in it.”

he immediately perks up and you can’t help but compare him to a sunflower that thrives the most under a loving hand. it’s incredibly cute and you can also tell that your mother feels the same, if not obvious from the way she has been giving him extra hugs and compliments all summer.

you rejoin the boys after you have all changed into your pants. it takes a lot of self control not to laugh when you see how seriously they are taking their get-up; rubber boots hiked up to their knees over their floral pants, and their straw hats secured snugly with the chin straps. even as disinterested as your father originally was when the trio had first arrived at the beginning of summer, he now lingers behind the sliding glass doors to watch you and san attempt to teach the tall boys how to plant rice seedlings in the paddy field.

yunho grabs a small, prepared bed of seedlings and turns to look at you cheekily. “want to be a rice friend and show me how to plant these?”

you level him with a stare that makes him chuckle and apologise, “sorry, i won’t say that a-grain.”

he looks awfully pleased with himself, so you turn on your heels in pretence to ditch him for mingi instead. you let out an involuntary yelp when yunho prevents your escape by quite literally manhandling you back next to him. he dares to up his charm by using his wide, sparkling eyes on you as he thrusts the seedlings into your hands, like a child waiting for you to open a bag of snacks– how could anybody say no?

you talk him through your demonstration, separating a small cluster of seedlings from the seedbed before transplanting it into the field. once he seems confident, you let him take over. it’s mesmerising to watch yunho’s hands as he deftly carries out each step– the way his long and slender fingers move with coordination and grace. despite it being his first time, he works skillfully like someone with years of experience. you’ve come to realise that yunho’s good at doing things that involve physicality, like dancing, surfing, and now farming.

“how did you start surfing?” you wonder.

yunho stills momentarily, before he separates another cluster of seedlings and runs his fingers through its green shoots. “i actually started surfing because mingi wanted to try,” his voice is fond. “it’s been four or five years now.”

“that’s really sweet of you.”

he ducks his head bashfully, then asks, “what about you? how come you don’t surf?”

“san roped me into his first few lessons, but i never got the hang of it so i stopped,” you reveal. “i prefer watching, anyway.”

“maybe you just didn’t have a good teacher. i could teach you one day?”

you don’t doubt that he would make a good teacher, but you would most definitely be a terrible student. the shirt and board shorts that leave very little to imagination when he’s soaked, and the water that drips from the ends of his hair down his jawline and neck are distracting enough as they are from a distance.

you chuckle, “you’re going to need a lot longer than just a few days to turn me into a surfer. you guys leave this weekend, don’t you?”

“that’s true,” he hums. “but there’s always next summer…if you’d like that?”

at his words, you suddenly don’t know where to look. the rosiness that starts to colour your cheeks makes a small part of you hope that there is an underlying hint of flirting in his question. before you can answer though, you’re interrupted by san peering over your shoulder to look at yunho’s progress. “of course you’re good at this too.”

you crane your neck to look around san, where you find mingi squatting and planting seedlings in the rows that are within arm’s reach.

“how’s he going?”

san glances back, “he’s, uh–well. he’s trying.”

“my hardest!” mingi yells across the field.

with a laugh, you stand up and slowly make your way towards him, leaving san and yunho to lay down the rules to see who can plant the most seedlings in the next half an hour. because apparently, everything needs to be a competition between them.

the seedlings that mingi has planted don’t look that bad, honestly. they’re a little lopsided, the spacing and height of each seedling a little inconsistent, but for his first time it really isn’t all too bad. you tell him such and squat down beside him. “here, let me show you.”

you gently remove one of the seedlings from the watery mud whilst talking, “they may just be plants, but they’re like people, too. if you treat them with love and care, you can see the same reflected in them.” you neaten the sides of the hole as you add, “you know, it’s kind of like how yunho loves and cares for you.”

having spent all summer with the pair, you notice all the times yunho subtly perks his head up to locate where the other boy is. all the times yunho brings him into conversation or back into the little huddle you’re all standing in. all the times yunho will wait for mingi to say what he wants or thinks before saying the same thing himself.

your fingers ease the seedling into the hole, then you fill it with soil and pat it down firmly to give the shoot the support it needs. “yunho told me he started surfing because you wanted to.”

at your words, mingi nods with a wistful smile; completely different from his characteristic cheerfulness. even the brightest of stars have moments where their twinkle dulls. “i was going through a rough time at home and i wanted something to distract myself…give myself a reason to get out of the house, even if just for a few hours,” he reveals. “sometimes, yunho and i skipped our morning classes and he would take me on long trips to the beach just so that we could surf.”

“i’m glad you had him to help you through that.”

“yeah, he’s helped me a lot,” mingi agrees. “he still does. sannie too.” as he talks, mingi attempts to plant another seedling the way you have shown him, and this time, it stands tall and proud amongst the other shoots beside the one you have planted.

“how are things at home now?” you ask.

he shrugs aloofly, an indirect answer that tells you everything you need to know. his gaze settles on the other half of your little summer quartet, who are now in heated debate over the winner of the planting competition. “both of them knew that i didn’t want to go back to my hometown over summer. that’s why san asked if we wanted to come here with him. thanks for letting us stay this summer, y/n. it’s meant a lot to me.”

your heart breaks a little at his words and you nudge him playfully, “stop treating me like i’m the head of namhae. there’ll always be a place here for the both of you.”

he lets out a laugh, a glimpse of his usual self. “we just know how much summers mean to you and san.”

“and meanings can always change for the better,” you counter with a smile.

mingi feels warm from the very inside. for a moment, only you and him exist in this bubble of comfort as you simply gaze at each other. and it doesn’t go unnoticed. yunho stretches his back with a satisfied exhale at san’s admittance of defeat before glancing at the two of you looking nice and cosy in the exact same corner of the paddy field you were working on half an hour ago.

“have you two just been sitting there this whole time?” yunho narrows his eyes as his words draw san’s attention.

“no?” you flimsily say, at the same time mingi confidently declares, “yes.”

the man beside you is back to his usual antics as he giddily fans the fire by gloating, “what are you going to do about it?”

yunho and san glance at each other and you start rising to your feet at the foreboding of danger. they nod.

that’s all the warning you get before they lunge in your direction. as dorky and harmless as the two of them look in their styled outfit of farming pants and straw hats, they are anything but that as yunho and san take frighteningly large steps through the rice paddy with their long legs. and just as your luck would have it, yunho is the one who is closest to you out of the two predators. you hardly think that it’s a fair chase between the tallest and the shortest.

“yun, we can talk this out like adults,” you try to distract him.

whilst you’re struggling for your life to pull your boots out of the squelching mud as fast as you can, yunho easily moves towards you with a devilish grin. you see his outstretched hands, covered in mud, and you decide right there and then that you’re not above begging.

“don’t come any closer! please, i’m sorry! i’m–” your pleads are cut off when he grabs you by the waist and hauls you over his shoulder.

for a brief second, you almost slip right over him face-first into the mud from the momentum and your life flashes before your eyes. but then yunho’s arms flex as he steadily grips your thighs and readjusts your weight, and you resign your fate to his shoulder and his pretty– but grubby– hands.

you twist your head to the side when a husky screech alerts you to victim number two and you find mingi at the mercy of san’s headlock. he rapidly taps the latter’s forearm, yelling mercy as you all burst out into laughter. very soon, the field turns into a playground of childish liveliness as all intentions of farming are tossed to the wind.

mingi was right in saying that summers mean a lot to you and san. but as you all chase and run away from one another around the muddy field, smearing loving handprints of dirt over each other’s faces and clothes, sounds of happiness loud enough that your parents can hear it from back inside the house, summer takes on a new meaning in the shape of you four.

in hindsight, it makes a lot of sense now why san’s parents had knocked on your door earlier this morning, entrusting you with the spare key to their house and waving goodbye as they drove away in their rented campervan. they had let you know that they would be going on a road trip along the coast this summer so that san and his friends could have the house to themselves.

you hadn’t thought much of it– just excitedly counted down the hours until the reunion of your little quartet. yunho had been texting you updates as he, san and mingi finally made the four-hour trip down to namhae now that they were on summer vacation. one of the last texts you had received had been a picture of mingi in the backseat, head lolling and mouth open in deep slumber, with the caption, ‘gonna need to wake sleeping beauty up soon XD we’ll be there in about twenty’.

this time, you had opted to wait for their arrival by sitting on the embankment outside your houses. your legs had dangled off the ledge as you looked out towards the beach, and at the telltale noise of their arrival, you had excitedly hopped up to your feet, only to be met with a sight that had your steps halting in fluster. and oh, this is why san’s parents had decided to yield the house. because this time, not only have the number of surfboards doubled, but so have the number of cars and boys that are suddenly in front of you.

as san turns off the ignition to his jeep, you’re dazedly swept up into a sandwich of hugs between yunho and mingi as they greet you eagerly. it’s good to see them again in the flesh instead of their measly five-inch-tall selves over facetime, and you’d be a little overwhelmed by their height on either side of you– having forgotten just how tall they really are– if your attention isn’t distracted by the opening doors of the banged-up ute behind san’s jeep.

either seoul has water that’s doped with something, or birds of a feather flock together, because each of the three boys that step out are equally as good-looking. you’d be lying if your heart didn’t skip a beat at the sight of them. you’re a simple girl with hormones weak for eye candy, after all.

yunho slings an arm around you and walks you a little closer as the new faces turn to look at you with friendly smiles. “this is y/n,” yunho introduces. “and these are our friends, jongho and yeosang.”

you notice that he skips over one of the boys, who starts to open his mouth in complaint, but then yunho continues on, “and this short one is hongjoong. we keep him as our mascot.”

hongjoong gives the taller his middle finger with practised ease and counters, “and we keep you as our tall circus freak.”

the way everyone snickers, yunho and hongjoong included, tells you that this is just about as average an interaction can be. after the boys properly greet themselves and pleasantries are exchanged with you, they decide to unload all their luggage so that they can rest for the afternoon. you walk over to the open boot of the black jeep, reaching for the last duffel and hoisting it into your hands.

before you can so much as take two steps, there’s a hand carefully taking the bag from yours. when you tilt your head up, it’s san’s kind eyes that are gazing back at you. “here, let me do it,” he casually tells you and then he walks towards the open doors of his house.

left with the outline of his back, you have a clear view of his shoulders flexing under his white shirt and you wonder when he started to fill out his clothes with muscle. you become conscious of the way you’re subtly ogling at your best friend, so you shake your head and walk over to the back of the ute instead where there are still a few bags left in the open bed.

there’s a small duffel that looks relatively light. as you drag it closer, you quickly realise it’s heavier than it looks. “what the hell is in this? weights?” you mutter to yourself.

there’s a giggle beside you, “sorry, that’s probably yeosang’s bag. he brings his supplements with him everywhere.”

it’s jongho this time, with his gummy smile and crescent eyes, who takes the bag handles out of your hands. he extends a brown paper bag out to you instead. “we can trade. this is much lighter.”

he easily picks up the bag of supplements and then reaches for a second bag to sling over his shoulder. for the amount of adorableness he exudes from his smile and laugh, the strength that he seems to have is on the complete opposite end of the spectrum. as he walks away, there’s the crunch of approaching footsteps and you see that it’s the short boy, hongjoong. he’s only short relative to his friends, because when he comes to stand beside you he’s still easily taller than you.

“maybe you could help me hold this, too.” he’s holding his closed fist out, making it impossible to discern what’s in his hands.

“what is it?” you ask as you open your hand, palm upturned for him to drop whatever he is holding into yours.

except he simply uncurls his fingers and intertwines them with yours, shit-eating grin plastered all over his face. a laugh erupts from your throat, only growing in volume when yeosang appears and interrupts by stepping between the two of you, forcing his friend to let go of your hand.

as yeosang grabs the last suitcase and closes the tailgate, he deadpans to the other, “san’s going to chop your hand off when he sees,” then he slings his free arm around hongjoong and ushers the both of you back into the house.

“it’s okay, i wouldn’t let san do that to you,” you reassure.

hongjoong smirks triumphantly at yeosang, only for you to wipe the expression off his face when you finish, “because that’d be animal abuse.”

“it’s been five minutes and you’ve already picked your side,” he laments dramatically, before nodding. “i see how you play. i like you.”

“it’s a shame i don’t,” you quip back immediately.

“fuck, did i just get rejected?”

yeosang shoves his friend through the doorway, “stop digging yourself a deeper hole.”

you all laugh as you shut the front door behind you to stop the cold of the air conditioner that san has turned on from escaping. you’re definitely starting to see the appeal hongjoong’s friends have in teasing him.

you take the bag of snacks still in your hand to the kitchen and you set it on the counter where san is drinking a glass of water. he’s watching the rest of the boys play ‘scissors, paper, rock’ over room allocations now that all their luggage has been piled up in the living room. he raises an arm and you easily slot yourself into his side and slide an arm around his waist. relaxing into the touch of his hand slowly rubbing up and down your arm, you also watch as the boys grow increasingly rowdy with each emerging winner.

you’ve had the fleeting thought before, but now that you’re seeing all the boys together, you realise just how attractive they all well and truly are. even san, you’re slowly starting to notice, does not lack in the face or body department.

“do you guys have a rule where you have to be attractive to be friends or something?” you ask, only half-jokingly. even though you had directed the question at san, it’s not him who answers you.

“aww, stop. you think we’re attractive?” of course hongjoong would be the one to overhear.

immediately, the feistiness in you appears. “yeah, and i’m wondering why they made an exception for you.”

he takes on the jest easily, “god, you’re obsessed with me.”

“you’re right, i’m a little crazy for dogs,” you shoot back, and you can feel the shake of san’s chuckles from next to you.

“good thing i’d bark for you, then.”

“what the fuck, guys?” mingi interrupts, “get a room.”

at that, san steps forward protectively and shoos his friends away, “hurry up and put your bags in the rooms so we can go surfing.”

yunho and yeosang take their bags towards the small guest room down the hall, whilst the remaining three head for san’s room. you turn to san incredulously, “you’re fitting four people in your room?”

he shakes his head, “of course not. i’m going to sleep in haneul’s room. she’s on a trip with her friends for most of the summer.”

“she can stay at mine when she comes back. until you guys have to go back to seoul,” you suggest.

“oh, that’s right. your parents are in yeosu now, aren’t they?”

you nod. you had told san a couple of weeks ago that your parents had moved back to your grandparent’s house for the meantime. they’re not sure how long they will be staying in your hometown for, but considering the deteriorating health of your grandparents and the fact that you are independent enough to take care of yourself, it’ll likely be for a while.

san doesn’t tell you, but that’s part of the reason why he has brought so many of his friends back this summer. he knows that you’re silently struggling to adjust– even if his parents take care of you like their own daughter– so he hopes that he and his friends can fill in some of the silence, even if just for the summer. he wishes it didn’t just have to be summer.

“do you need to change into something else before we go?” he asks you.

you look down at the t-shirt and shorts that you’re wearing. you don’t mind getting them wet, but you can’t say the same about your underclothes. “yeah, i’ll quickly go and change first.”

he nods and watches as you head towards the door to toe on your sandals. when you pull the door open, he gently calls after you, “it’s good to see you again, pipsqueak. i’ve missed you.”

you smile, “i’ve missed you more.”

even after the door closes behind you, san’s smile stays on his face. “i’ve missed you the most.”

no matter how many times you experience the thrill of getting tossed into the ocean, you still cannot fathom the fact that the once short, skinny boy who used to pretend to pick you up is now tall and strong enough to actually do it.

“you cheater!” you screech when you feel san’s arms snake around your waist from behind, lifting you up off your feet. “you said you’d give me a ten-second head start!”

his gleeful laugh rings in your ears as he ignores your flailing limbs and teases, “i did! your little legs are just too slow.”

you start to feel the coolness of waves splashing your ankles and toes the further san carries you out away from shore and your grip on his forearm tightens in anticipation. with a slight swing, he lets go of your waist and tosses you into the water. the next thing you know when you regain your balance and wipe the water from your face is the sound of san’s yelp as he disappears underwater. jongho grins from above, having leapt onto the older’s back, who in turn has crumpled under the unsuspecting weight.

san emerges with a hulk-like roar absolutely soaked to the bone, his black t-shirt clinging to his torso. the clear outlines of his chest and broad shoulders set off an unfamiliar skip in your heart yet again, and san lifting the hem of his shirt to wipe his face– revealing his abs in all of their wonder– does the complete opposite of calming you down.

you're fucked. there's no way you're attracted to san like that. in the form of petty revenge, said man brings his hands down to slap the surface of the water, splashing it right in your face and jongho’s and…yeah, that flutter of butterflies is gone.

san is caught right in the middle of the crossfire as you and jongho splash him, drowning his figure in torrential rain. the sounds of his choked laughter draw the attention of everyone else too, who have no idea why san is the target but are more than willing to join in. but with the plethora of water being splashed and the chaos of hands coming from every possible direction, the three of you end up drowning under the attacks.

hongjoong quickly loses motivation when his arms grow tired from doggy-paddling the water and yunho and yeosang’s attempts also slow down. they snicker at the aftermath– your trio absolutely drenched– and then rapidly skitter away before any of you decide to retaliate in vengeance.

at their cowardice, san bites the bait and goes hollering after them, leaving you with the youngest of your group of friends. jongho beckons towards the shore with his head and you’re momentarily distracted by his wet bangs falling over his forehead and eyebrows.

“up for more surfing?” he grins at you. and if there’s one thing you’ve learnt over the summer, it’s that you would kill for jongho if he asked you with his gummy smile.

jongho is a surprisingly good surfer. as the only one in the group who grew up in seoul with limited exposure to the beach, you can hardly tell that he’s a relative beginner in comparison to the rest of the boys unless you were a surfer yourself.

once they had become their close-knit group and they realised that most of them had a shared love for surfing, they had colloquially formed their own little surfer’s club, knighting jongho as their honorary member. he learnt to surf in indoor centres, during the occasional beach road trips they would make and through the experienced guidance of his friends.

of all six surfboards they had brought to namhae, jongho’s softboard is the one that is the most ideal for you to learn with. true to his words, yunho had attempted to teach you how to surf but on his own board– a shortboard great for experienced surfers to catch steep and aggressive waves, but terribly hard for a beginner to control. jongho had offered his board and so under his and yunho’s careful hands, you had spent your summer practising on the beach before slowly transitioning into the water.

which is where you find yourself now, on your stomach as you slowly paddle out. jongho stands close by and waist-deep in the shallow waters of the spot that he has led you to where the waves are few and calm. just a couple of metres away, yeosang idly straddles his longboard as he watches in support.

“you remember how to push through the waves?” jongho checks and you nod, gripping the rails of the surfboard and straightening your arms to lift your torso upwards.

“yeah, hang on,” he says, moving closer. jongho rests his hand gently on the small of your back to steady your body and you have to focus on what he’s telling you instead of the feeling of his warm hand. he taps the sides of the board a few inches in front of where your grip currently is.

“hold it here, otherwise your centre of gravity is too far back,” he explains as you shift your hands forward. “the board might end up tipping backwards when you go through the wave.”

you retry the movement with the new positioning and jongho nods in satisfaction, removing his hand and stepping back again.

“there’s a wave coming in we could try,” yeosang suggests.

the slight swell of a forming wave starts to appear in the horizon. it doesn’t increase much in size the closer it gets, but as it reaches its peak height, the top breaks and turns into a whitewater wave. yeosang is out a little further and so he demonstrates how to push through first, lifting his torso above the break as his surfboard cuts through the wave.

“okay, ready? hold steady, steady,” jongho encourages, helping you time the movement, “and push up!”

you follow his call and straighten your arms to lift your upper body out of the wave’s trajectory, guiding the nose of your surfboard through at the same time that jongho dives under the wave. although your face still gets splashed with some water and your board trembles slightly in your grasp, you make it through the wave without tipping over.

“i did it!” you yell, shakily sliding yourself further up your board so that you can straddle it.

“you did it!” the boys respond excitedly.

jongho jumps up and down beside your board, prompting yeosang to slide into the water to join your side. you laugh brightly at the sense of achievement and at the sight of the two boys bobbing around you in a merry-go-round of exuberance.

“just a little more practice and you’ll be taking on the monster swells in no time,” yeosang declares. you know he’s exaggerating, but it makes pride bloom in your chest regardless.

somebody calls out your names and you all turn to look. it’s san standing near the waters, gesturing behind him as he yells, “we’re going to walk to the mart to get some ice cream. do you guys want to come?”

“yes!” you shout back, “wait for me!”

ungraciously tumbling off your surfboard in a hurry so that you can pull it back to shore, the boys chuckle at your eagerness. jongho grabs his board from out of your grasp so that he can carry it instead and the boys all trail behind you as you bound past san towards the pile of your belongings on the sand. while you sift through the heap for your sandals, your other hand subconsciously peels your clinging shirt away from your body. you feel the presence of someone coming up behind you and assuming it’s san, you straighten your back with a phone in your hand.

“san, you left your ph–” you start, except it’s yeosang, who bends down to pick up his towel and drapes it around you. it’s warm from the hours it’s spent in the sun and you can’t help the pleasant shiver that runs through your body. yeosang tugs it snugly over your shoulders and then takes the phone from your hand.

“here,” he tosses it to its owner, who falls into step behind you.

san nods his head in thanks and rummages under a towel where your sandals have been hiding before placing your shoes by your feet. “the ground’s pretty hot,” he says as he offers you his forearm to steady yourself with, patiently waiting for you to do up the buckles around your ankle.

“wait, i forgot my wallet,” you tell him once jongho and yeosang rejoin you after putting their surfboards away.

“don’t worry about it,” san reassures, “hongjoong’s buying.”

your ears perk up and he laughs because he knows exactly what you’re thinking. “yes, y/n. bleed him dry and order whatever you want."

"even a double–no, even a triple scoop?" you exclaim scandalously.

san's eyes drip adoration, "yes, even a triple scoop."

you run ahead with a cheer, blabbering jongho’s ear off about how if you get three different flavours and he also gets three different flavours, then you guys get to share six flavours, before yeosang joins in with excited chatter about how you guys can make it nine flavours if he does the same. you catch up with the rest of your friends and somehow, like a devilish cult, you all start to chant, “bleed hongjoong dry! bleed hongjoong dry!”

the oldest jokes that he only offered to pay for yours, not everybody’s, so mingi starts to tell you what he wants so that you can order in his stead, setting off a chain reaction as everyone else places their orders through you. they surround you, happy jostles and raucous snickers as you disappear in the middle of the group.

from behind, as san watches you grow closer and closer with his friends each summer, he can’t help but feel like he’s going to burst from affection and pride. he knows it will be a while until your parents move back to namhae, as is the same for himself until he graduates. but between his group of six– which will hopefully become the full eight next summer– and the group chat that you all made within hours of meeting each other, san is confident that you’ll never feel alone.