rockwithyoon

You’re rarely ever shy around him, you’ve been confident from the start, and as much as Seungkwan loves you as you are, there’s also something to say about your current bashfulness. It makes him feel a bit bigger, a bit stronger, like he could tease you and get away with it for once, so he sinks his fingers back into your scalp and watches you with keen eyes. 

You arch into the scratching of his nails, face emerging from his shirt as your head tilts back into his touch, and Seungkwan can see the set of your jaw, knows you’re holding in the sounds you want to make. But Seungkwan wants to hear them, so he pulls your hair until you gasp, using your distraction to slide his thumb into your mouth. 

He watches your face with a heavy gaze, nibbling at the inside of his cheek, as your eyes clench shut and your spine twists in a shiver. You close your lips around his thumb to suck, but that’s not what he’s after so he slips it out, tugging your chin down to keep your mouth open. Your eyes blink open slowly, locking with his, and he knows you can see the want on his face, knows you can probably feel it under the leg that rests over his hips, but Seungkwan doesn’t care. 

No, he just wants to hear that sound again, glides his nails along your scalp, flattens his palm to dig his fingers in, brings them together so he can tug your hair at the roots. That really gets you, and your moan floats in the air, louder than usual with your mouth open like this, so he does it again, pulls your hair harder this time, before loosening his fingers to massage at your scalp. The purring starts, and Seungkwan drinks in the sound, gaze stuck on your lips, reveling in the sounds coming out of you. 

He wants you to make more, but he wants to feel them too, so he pushes you up with gentle hands and scooches to brace his back against the headboard of the bed. You look adorably rumpled, sleepshirt falling off your shoulder, lips pouting, eyes half lidded, and Seungkwan chuckles as he guides you into place between his legs. He pulls you close, your back resting on his chest, your head just under his chin, tilted up so you can look at him. Wrapping his arms around you and breathing in your scent, Seungkwan pushes his hips against you, and lays one hand on the waistband of your lace panties. 

“Can I touch you, honey?” Seungkwan asks, even though he knows you’ll say yes, because you’re already lifting your hips into his hand. He widens his legs to make more room for yours, pulls one to rest over his knee so you’re spread open for him, and slides his hand under the elastic. 

“Fuck,” Seungkwan breathes against your hair, “you’re soaking, sweetheart. Do you always get this wet when I play with your hair?”

“Nooo,” you whine, denying it just like you denied the purring, and you and Seungkwan both know you just told on yourself. You get shy again, your thighs trying to close around his hand even with one stuck, and Seungkwan loves it, free palm sliding down to push your leg over his other knee, keeping you splayed open for him. 

Seungkwan can see every movement of his hand under the fabric of your panties, see his fingers sliding along the seam of your pussy, dipping into your entrance to spread your wetness through your folds, gliding over your clit with the lightest touch he can manage. You try to buck your hips up but can’t get far with your legs hooked over his, and Seungkwan breathes a laugh into your shoulder. 

You whine at him, writhing between his thighs, and the pressure against his cock makes him gasp and press his teeth into the skin on your shoulder. Seungkwan doesn’t like biting you, doesn’t really feel the urge to leave marks on the skin he loves so much, but he just might tonight.

You’re bringing something out in him, a part of him that wants to tell you what to do, hold you down, spread you open, bite lick suck every part of you he can reach. He doesn’t normally tease you, not when you both just want to make the other feel as good as possible, and sex with you is usually more like a dance than fucking, but tonight, Seungkwan wants to fuck you. He wants to make you scream and cry and shake and push him away then beg him for more. 

“Honey,” Seungkwan exhales with a raspy voice, “can we try something a bit different tonight?”

“Like what, Kwannie?” you ask impatiently, hips still wiggling in an attempt to get him to touch you more. 

“I wanna,” Seungkwan takes in a deep, nervous breath, “I wanna be rougher with you, make you cum until you can’t anymore, until you tell me to stop. And I want you to keep your hands to yourself. Would that be okay with you?”

“Would that be okay with me?” you ask, somewhat disbelieving, and Seungkwan’s heart drops, until you breathe out, “fuck yes, Seungkwan, you can fuck me until I cry if you want,” and set your hands on the bed, bunching the sheets up tight in your fingers.

That makes him shiver, hips rolling against your back, dick pressing into your spine, and he pushes two fingers into you, pushes through the stretch, pushes them deep, spreading them when his knuckles bump up against your wet flesh. You sigh out a moan, kicking your hips up before opening your thighs wider for him, and he hooks the tips into the ridged spot inside of you, grinds them until he feels you get wetter. You’re drenched already, soaking your panties, and he moves his hand off your thigh to tug them down, wanting to see everything. You lift your hips up, trying to help, but that just sends his fingers into you harder, and your back arches against his chest, your moan flowing loudly into the bedroom. 

Your panties get caught midway, unable to slide down any further with your legs held open like this, but Seungkwan doesn’t want to stop long enough to unhook a leg and take them off. The waistband stretches, elastic snapping, and you whine, “just rip them!”

“What?” Seungkwan asks, because there’s no way you just told him to tear your panties off of you, but you force out, “babe, rip them. The waist is already done, just get them off.”

Seungkwan might want to be in charge tonight, but he’s not about to defy that order, so he slides his fingers under the waistband and pierces through the lace with his nails, then pulls to break the elastic holding the side of your panties together. They fall, and Seungkwan can just barely see his fingers in you through the remnants, free hand pushing at the fabric until it’s slid down your other leg to bare you completely. 

“Fuck me,” Seungkwan says under his breath, eyes locked on his fingers disappearing inside of you, on the wetness seeping out around them, on the way it glistens on your pussy in the moonlight. Your clit is starting to peek out from between your folds, swollen and probably throbbing, if he knows you at all, and Seungkwan needs to make you cum.

Now. 

He scissors his fingers in you, stretching you out, sliding a third in, and you clench down, crying out his name. He moves his other hand to spread you open, pointer and ring finger pulling your slick flesh apart so he can set his middle finger right on your clit and rub tight circles. Your eyes squeeze shut and your mouth falls open in a moan, pussy tightening rhythmically around the fingers inside of you, and Seungkwan grins, baring his teeth a little as you get closer and closer. 

Your body squirms against him, but you have nowhere to go, your legs trapped on either side of his, and his arms tensed to hold you tight against him. You have no choice but to take it, take the pressure on your clit, take the fingers fucking in and out of you, but you love it, your pussy clenching, gushing as you cum. 

Seungkwan rides the waves with you, hooking his fingers into you and rubbing them back and forth, finger pressing down on your pulsing center, and he feels heat rush through him, his aching cock jumping against your back. You’ve got at least one more in you though, Seungkwan knows from experience, and he’s going to draw it out with his fingers. If you want his dick after, great, if not, his hands work just fine, obviously. 

He was letting you come down a bit, but when you buck your hips into his touch, forcing his fingers deeper, Seungkwan just says, “Okay, honey, if that’s how you want it,” and fucks his hand into you harder, palm hitting against the finger resting on your clit. You’re whimpering, pussy contracting continuously, sucking his digits in deeper, and he thinks maybe he can fit-

“Fuck, Seungkwan, please,” you beg, as he works a fourth finger into you. You arch against him, and he can’t stop his hips from bucking into you, desperate for some friction on his cock. That just makes things worse for him though, the fabric of his boxers rubbing on the sensitive head of his dick, length pressed against his stomach, leaking precum onto his shirt. He’ll cum after you do though, Seungkwan reminds himself, wedging his fingers in deeper to curl and catch at your g-spot, fucking into you incessantly. He sandwiches your clit between two fingers, pressing hard and grinding up and down, and he can feel it pulsating, feel your pussy throbbing from the inside out. 

The sounds he’s pulling from you, from your mouth and your body alike, hypnotize him. Your gasps, your whines, the raspy cries of his name, your pussy squelching around his fingers, the slick noises of his hand moving on your clit, it’s all music to his ears, the most beautiful song Seungkwan’s ever heard. He’ll never get enough of you now that he’s heard you like this, but he knows he can’t get distracted now. 

You’d said he could fuck you unti you cried, and you’re not crying yet, just gasping for breath and shuddering in his arms, your hips bucking into and then away from his touch, over and over and over. You’re almost there, and Seungkwan knows it, so he grits his teeth and shoves his fingers in as deep as they can reach, angling his forearm out, getting more leverage to fuck into your g-spot, thrusting in and out so hard he can feel drops of your wetness splashing against his thighs. You try to curl up, your back bowing and your head dropping, chin tucked tight to your chest, and he feels your heart galloping against his as you break, slick spraying out on the next stroke, your shouts echoing in the room. Your clit is throbbing between his knuckles, beating in time with the clenching of your entrance, pussy stretched wide around the four fingers inside of you, and Seungkwan can feel your cunt swallow them deeper, your walls squeezing down tight. 

His hips jerk against you, cock dripping in his boxers, his mind fuzzy with desire and filled with your voice, and he thinks he could cum like this if he just gets the right ang-

“Seungkwan, please fuck me,” you sob, and he’s so shocked you can talk that he doesn’t register what you say, until you say it again. 

“Sweetheart,” he begins, “aren’t you tired? You just, like, squirted all over the bed, we’ll have to change the sheets.”

“Boo Seungkwan, you know we have more sheets! Please put your dick in me, I feel like I’ll die if you don’t,” you beg, chest rapidly rising and falling, pussy still pulsing around his fingers. 

“Okay, okay, honey, how do you want it?” Seungkwan feels like he might pass out; he honestly didn’t even think you’d be up for helping him cum after how you just did, and now here you are, begging him to fuck you. It’s too much and not enough, all at once. 

You whine out, “like this, Kwannie, like this, just take your fingers out and get your cock in me,” and Seungkwan rushes to follow your directions, tilting away from you enough to pull himself out.

The waistband of his boxers is soaked with his precum, but he can wash them with the linens later, and he tugs the elastic down to rest under his balls, his dick twitching when the open air hits it. He shifts you up into his lap, scooting down a bit more so you have a better seat, and slides his fingers out of you. Your pussy squeezes down, trying to keep them inside, but he replaces them with his dick before you can complain. 

There’s still a bit of a stretch, but you let out a keening sigh and wiggle your hips until they sit flush with his. You’re soaking wet around him, walls massaging the length of his cock, so hot and perfect for him, and he almost wants to just stay here, buried inside you, unmoving. 

But you told Seungkwan to fuck you, begged him to, and all he ever wants is to give you exactly what you want, so he braces his feet on the bed and snaps his hips up into you. You bounce in his lap and, remembering how wet you’d gotten when he held you down, he wraps his arms around your waist, pulls you tight against his chest, keeping you there as he starts fucking into you. He’s lean, but strong, holding you in place so his hips have room to thrust in and out, angling your body forward a bit so the head of his cock can drag against the sensitive spot inside you, shifting up onto his knees so he can get more leverage. 

You tip forward, and Seungkwan follows you, letting you brace yourself on your hands, your knees still spread apart by his. He can fuck you harder like this anyway, one hand squeezing your hip, the other pushing down on your lower back to make you arch. His hips slam against your ass with every thrust, dick practically gliding in you with how wet you’ve gotten, and Seungkwan can’t take his eyes off of the way your pussy is stretched around him. 

He’s moaning now, feeling your walls locking up tight around him, and he knows he won’t last. That’s fine though, because you’re getting close again, and Seungkwan’s favorite thing about sex is cumming with you.

You just need a little bit more, and he can see your hand move on the sheets, destination probably being between your thighs, but Seungkwan told you to keep your hands to yourself. He reminds you of that with his body stretched over yours and his fingers wrapped around your wrist, dragging it back up to rest next to the other above your head. 

Releasing you, Seungkwan braces his hand next to yours as a warning, smoothing the one on your hip around to press his fingers into your clit. He keeps them there, as he fucks in and out of you, as your pussy clenches down on his dick, as weak moans leave you with every slap of his hips against your ass. 

“Seungkwan, please- fuck, please make me cum, I’m so close,” you cry out, gasping into the bed before turning your head to rest on your arm, watery eyes catching his. 

You are close, and he is too, so he nods, groaning out, “Don’t worry, honey, I’ll make you cum.” 

It doesn’t take much for your lips to fall open in a feeble scream as you shatter on him, just his fingers circling and pinching and grinding on your clit, and his cock pumping in and out of you. Your cunt contracts into a vice grip around his dick and your wetness floods out to drip down his balls, and it’s enough to make him cum, your cries filling his ears as his dick jumps, cum starting to spill inside of you. His ears are ringing, your form blurry in his eyes, and he shifts the hand next to yours to entangle your fingers with his, pressing your hand down into the bed and whining your name between swears and groans.

Seungkwan cums so hard, for so long, that he’s dizzy by the time his cock stops twitching within your walls. He pulls out slowly, dick softening and coated in a white film, and sits back on his knees, exhausted. Your legs are still spread by his, and Seungkwan’s about to close them, climb off the bed to tug you with him to the bathroom, when his eyes fall to your pussy and suddenly, he has no will to move. 

Your entrance tightens in pulses, pushing out little bits of his cum with every squeeze, and with the way you’re lying on your stomach, it drips down to smear over your clit. This image of you, your legs spread and your teary, tired eyes gazing at him, his cum painted all over your still throbbing, still wet, still open pussy…

Seungkwan can’t stop staring, and he shifts down to lay on his stomach between your legs, his face close enough to your cunt for him to smell the combination of him and you. His fingers come up to your clit, rubbing over the swollen nub once, before they smooth up your folds, gathering his cum and guiding it back to your entrance. They sink in, pushing deep inside, fucking his cum back into you. 

You moan, clenching around his fingers, and his dick twitches, valiantly trying to harden again. Seungkwan is spent though, and so are you, judging by the strain in your thigh muscles and the way you shiver a bit, your eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. 

He’s never fucked you so hard before, and he switches into fussing mode immediately, withdrawing his fingers from you gently and slowly rolling you over onto your back. Your arms and legs stretch out, body starfishing on the bed, and Seungkwan lets you catch your breath for a minute while he clambers off. He can’t let you fall asleep though, not until he cleans up the mess he made of you, so he tugs you up off the bed and helps you hobble to the bathroom. You sit on the edge of the tub as he gets the shower going, eyes drooping shut and body listing to the side before he pulls you up again to join him under the water. 

Seungkwan props you up against his chest while he rinses you off with the handheld, settling you down on the bench before he washes away his cum with tender hands. He tilts you back to rest against the shower wall, lathering his palms up with your face wash and swirling it over your skin. He thinks you might be sleeping, your eyes closed softly and your breaths deep, and cups water into his hands to carefully rinse your face, figures you’re safe enough on the bench for him to finish showering. 

He moves through his routine quickly, cursing to himself when he realizes he hadn’t stripped the bed yet, and shuts the shower off. He towel dries his body roughly, shaking his hair out and scrunching it in your microfiber turbee twist, before wrapping you up tight in your giant fluffy towel. Setting you on the stool of your vanity, Seungkwan ensures you won’t fall over before rushing out of the steamy bathroom to change the sheets. 

It’s a bit hard with just one person, but Seungkwan’s not about to make you clean up his mess, so he makes do, only punching the bed once when the fitted sheet snaps off of one corner. He scurries back to the bathroom, exhaling in relief to find you still sitting upright. Your face looks glowy and he spots your essence out of place on the counter - you must have tried to do your skincare. It looks like you’d gotten through your first serum before you got tired, so Seungkwan picks up the second and pats it into your skin, follows it with your night cream, remembering to bring it down your neck like you always nag him to do on himself. He halfheartedly does his own skin regimen, feeling the fatigue clawing at his brain and dragging his body down, and wakes you enough for you to stumble back to bed with him. 

You climb under the sheets clumsily, cheek rubbing into your fresh silk pillowcase, and close your eyes. Breathing in the lavender spray Seungkwan had frantically spritzed throughout the room, you pucker your lips for a kiss (which he happily grants) and breathe out, “Love you, Kwannie.”

Seungkwan snuggles up close, pulls you into his arms and settles his face next to yours on your pillow, sighs out, “love you too, sweetheart,” and joins you in sleep. 

AN: i was nervous to write smut for Seungkwan but it was easy af i love him so much ! i am very sleepy now but i hope you enjoy this, i would like to know your every thought and feeling, please please please - tags, comments, inboxes, anons, all are welcome i love to read your feedback!

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Despite his words about shoving you through your door and fucking you against it, Seungcheol let you enter before him on your own time, walking in after you and shutting it behind him gently. He flipped the deadbolt then you watched as he let his back fall to the door and rested his weight there, banked heat in the brown eyes meeting yours. The sight of his tongue slipping out to wet his lips and him catching his lower lip between his teeth as he stood there and slowly looked you up and down, stoked the flames in your body, fire licking at you with the pass of his gaze over your body. 

His smirk said he knew damned well what he was doing. 

You tore your own gaze away from his mouth and waited for him to meet it, lifting both brows and tilting your head slightly in question. “I thought you were going to fuck me against the door, Cheol. Did you decide to just stare at me from the door instead?”

Seungcheol chuckled, pushing himself away from the door and walking toward you. “Trust me, my preference is to already be inside you, princess, but I’m trying to be at least a little bit of a gentleman here and give you the space to change your mind.”

Oh. 

Another two steps and he was close enough to touch. Your hands came up to rest against his abdomen and he sucked in a sharp breath, brushing the back of his fingers across your jaw while he gripped your hip with the other hand and drew your body into his. The action erased the rest of the distance between you and your fingers fisted in the fabric of his t-shirt at the feel of his body pressed to yours. 

“I can’t help staring, though. Since you can’t either, I’m guessing you don’t mind too much,” he murmured, the hand at your jaw shifting to your nape. Fingers slid into your hair and tightened around it. Tilted your head back. Leaning in until his lips were hovering above yours. “Tell me.”

Jesus Christ.

You were not proud of the sound you made then, the needy little whimper that spoke volumes, but it worked its way past your lips before you could stop it. That smirk of his was back and only Seungcheol could make you simultaneously want to kiss him and kick him. You needed to say something instead of just – just standing there and letting him have the upper hand.

“Tell you what? That I don’t mind you staring at me? Or that I didn’t change my mind and my preference is also for you to already be inside me? You’re gonna have to be more specific,” you finally managed, proud of yourself for the teasing lilt in your voice. For the way he cursed in response and his fingertips pressed harder into the skin at your hip.

When he spoke, his voice was a growl. “Careful, princess.”

Your smile was as sweet as pie, and you blinked guilelessly at him. “Why’s that, sir?”

Seungcheol groaned then his lips were on yours, fingers in your hair tightening their hold further and pulling – gently, just enough for you to feel it, just enough to make your knees go wobbly and you to breathe his name. Your lips parted for him and he took advantage, sliding his tongue into your mouth and against yours, suckling at your tongue before pulling back to bite at your bottom lip. To lave at it with his tongue. 

His own lips turned up in the corners at your attempt to follow his mouth as he drew back further and your pout when his grip in your hair stopped you.

“We’re gonna have a long talk later about exactly which of my videos you watched and why,” he said, words a low rumble against your neck from where he spoke them into the skin beneath your ear. You pressed your thighs together and squeezed your eyes shut at the way the rumble worked its way down your spine to settle in your center. “About kinks and limits, aren’t we?”

“Hmm?” 

He nipped at the skin of your neck and your body jerked. “That was a question, sweetheart. I expect an answer.”

You had been wet since the car, but your reaction to the authoritative tone and words should not be to flood your fucking panties. It shouldn’t. Should it? It should. Whatever. Seungcheol – first, as S.Coups and now, as himself – had clearly taught you some things about yourself and obviously would continue to do so. 

Given his fingers were still fisted in your hair and his hold was solid, you nodded as best you could. “Y-Yes. We’ll talk about it. That. All of that.” Lashes fluttering open, you settled your gaze on his and your knees would in all honesty have buckled at the way his eyes burned, if his hand at your hip didn’t slide around your waist to hold you up. Well. They did buckle, but you didn’t fall on your ass because he had you. 

He had you. 

He had you and you knew you were safe with him, even if you from a month ago – hell, even a week ago – would’ve called you crazy for even thinking it. Your breath left you in a soft sigh.

“I didn’t change my mind, Cheol. Are you done being a gentleman yet or did you change your mind?”

“No, princess,” Seungcheol said with a shake of his head, although his gaze remained locked on yours and his mouth pulled into a knowing smirk. “I didn’t change my mind. Told you last night that you could have anything you wanted and I meant it. Including me. If you want me, you’ve got me.”

Your fingers dug into his upper arms, your stomach doing somersaults. At face value, his words could be taken to mean physically. Could be confirming that he’d take you to bed and give your body what it was aching for. Yesterday, you would’ve taken it that way. Tonight, his strong arm still wrapped securely around your waist and holding you up, the warmth in his eyes that was far more than sexual, his confession from earlier still reverberating in the back of your mind, you knew better. 

Yes, of course, he also meant he was going to fuck you. That’s why he was in your apartment at that moment. But it wasn’t just about that. You might have been oblivious for…far longer than you perhaps should have been but you were no longer. What happened next – how you chose to interpret those words – was up to you. He would honor your choice. 

Sexual release between two people who were no longer enemies? 

Accepting his feelings and yours, and starting something more?

You’d joked about you not hating him earlier and wanting to be his, about him wanting to be yours. The gentle squeeze at your waist was a reassurance that he wouldn’t hold you to that. As was the soft kiss he pressed to the bridge of your nose while he waited for your response. Waited for you.

Again.

It was still wild to be on the receiving end of his understanding and affection, but that’s where you were.

What did you want this to be?

“I get to keep you, huh?” you finally settled on, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of his t-shirt.

Seungcheol’s chest expanded with the deep breath he drew in and when he smiled, it was wide, bright, both of those devastating dimples in full effect. “Yeah, princess. You get to keep me.”

“Oh good! In that case, I take my coffee with –”

“I know how you take your coffee,” he interrupted with a puff of laughter. 

Your eyes widened. “You do?”

Another soft laugh before his lips brushed over yours. “Yes. It might shock you to hear this, but I’m a pretty observant man. I pay attention even when I’m pretending I don’t.” 

“That does shock me, actually.”

“It’s like you want me to put you over my knee.”

You hadn’t really given it much thought, but the way you throbbed in response indicated maybe you should start. Instead of telling him that, though, you lifted your chin and taunted. “As if you could.”

His answering smile was lupine and you felt a shiver work its way through you, a delicious apprehension (anticipation) in the face of his change in demeanor. 

“Where’s your bedroom? Unless you really do want me to fuck you against the front door or bend your bratty ass over the back of the sofa, I suggest you tell me now.” Seungcheol’s tone left no room for arguments, voice deep and rough in the way that you’d had fucking dreams about since the first time you heard him use it on a stream. In the way that never failed to leave you wet and wanting. Now, wanting and soaked as you already were, it was near to painful. 

Releasing your hold on one of his arms, you gestured toward your bedroom door. You let out a choked gasp when he stepped forward and you had to step backwards, the movement of his body guiding yours toward the room. 

“Are you really going to– ?” What? Put you over his knee? Spank you? 

The very idea of Seungcheol’s hand on your ass made warmth bloom in your cheeks, made your insides twist in the most enticing, tempting ways. Because he had been right when he said you liked to get a reaction out of him. The part of you that got a thrill out of him being all authoritative and in control and wanted to be naughty as much as you wanted to be praised was desperately attentive right in that moment.

Your back met the closed door to your bedroom and you inhaled sharply as you found yourself pinned between the hard wood and Seungcheol. He hummed softly, nuzzling the crook of your neck, setting the gentlest of kisses there and you felt yourself relax into it, tilting your head to the side to bare more of your neck for him. His lips curved into a smile, fingers slipping into your hair, gripping it and holding your head there as he sucked hard at the skin you’d so-helpfully exposed to him, pulling a breathy whine from you as he marked you.

He groaned and the hand at your waist squeezed.

“Cheol,” you breathed, sliding your arms around his shoulders and a hand into the hair at his nape. Pressing closer. Pulling him closer. 

“I’m not gonna do anything you don’t want me to do, princess,” he said as he brought his head up and caught your gaze briefly. Reassuring even as it challenged. The arm around you dragged your body away from the door and he spun you to face it, pressing your breasts into the wood and his lower body against your bottom. He let out a soft chuckle when you pushed back against him, a low growl when you ground your ass into his cock. “Want that, don’t you?”

You nodded, tilting your head back to rest on his shoulder as you continued to grind back against him. “Uh– Uh huh.”

“I know you do,” he cooed then before pulling his hips back. You opened your mouth to complain but his palm landed against your ass and you couldn’t bite back a gasp, the swat a sharp sting that went straight to your cunt and you shuddered, squirming in response. 

He squeezed the cheek, soothing and somehow magnifying the heat, causing it to further spread through your body, your veins.

“Thought you said you weren’t going to spank me,” you commented breathlessly, even as you pressed into his touch. The sting having faded, shifted, morphed into just more…want. 

“Said I wasn’t going to do anything you didn’t want, princess.” His hand slid up your ass and to your hip, fingers digging into you, a silent reminder of his strength. Jesus, his strength that you’d never given a second of thought to until you didn’t know who you were looking at. Until you knew who he was in ways you shouldn’t. Until he’d picked you up and carried you to bed the night before. 

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if you could block out the force of your need for the man. “You’re so,” you started, having to suck in another shallow breath when his teeth grazed along the line of your neck, “presumptuous.”

Seungcheol chuckled. “Attentive. That’s the word you’re looking for there.” 

You scoffed but you further settled back against him as he twisted the doorknob and pushed the door open, body a gentle pressure against the back of yours as he continued to guide you into the room. 

When you both stood by the foot of your bed, he slid his arm from around your waist, hand catching yours. “Turn around for me,” he directed you softly.

Turning around because you wanted to – definitely not because he told you to – you found his eyes with yours. His, determined and still burning so hot that it was a wonder it didn’t scald you. Yours, questioning, likely also heated and conveying exactly how much you wanted him. No more hiding and, in fact, reveling in the openness between you. 

Seungcheol’s gaze lowered, deliberately slow as he took in the sight of you, from head to toe: breath coming in shallow pulls, shifting restlessly from foot to foot, doing your very best not to fidget further under his scrutiny. Doing your very best not to tug him into you, fall back onto the bed behind you, and drag him with you. 

“So many things I want to do to you, princess,” he said, palm pressed to your belly and sliding up your torso to trace along your clavicle. His hand found your neck, encircling it, using the gentle hold to tip your head back. “Especially when you look at me like that, fuck.”

“How am I looking at you?” You swallowed thickly, the action rendering you even more achingly aware of the vulnerable position in which he had you. In which you allowed him to have you. The positions in which you wanted him to have you.

His lips curled at a corner and you knew he could tell, that he could see you. “Like you want me to ruin you. It’s beyond just letting me, isn’t it?” he purred. “My needy princess. If I were feeling mean, I’d make you beg for it.”

Jesus Christ. You almost wanted to hiss at him like a feral fucking cat. Or scratch him. For saying shit like that and looking at you with such a cocky expression, knowledge and self-satisfaction burning alongside the lust in his eyes. 

For being right. 

For teasing you. 

“I –” You started to tell him that you would beg when hell froze over, but you remembered him withholding permission to come more than once, with other viewers, with you, for doing so. The thought of him edging you right now – punishing you really – sounded excruciating. Next time, you told yourself. Next time, you would make him make you beg. Would prove to yourself that you could hold out. Right now, you just wanted him. 

“You need me to say it? Wanna hear me admit that I want you?” Your fingers caught hold of the bottom hem of his shirt and gathered the fabric into fists as you fought against instinct that urged you to keep at least some of your cards close to your chest. “I wanted you even when I wasn’t supposed to, Cheol. I dreamed about you the first time I saw your stream. Didn’t even know it was you, but I think you called me princess in that one.” 

The sound he made may as well have been a growl. It could have been a warning, but you sucked in a breath and continued, determined to give as good as you got and to rile him up as much as he was doing you. 

Keeping your gaze locked on his, you let your hands slide to his shoulders, over his chest. Down, down, a barely-there touch on his abdomen, until you could feel the belt he was wearing through the cotton of his shirt. Until you pushed the hem of his shirt up and brought your fingers to the fastening of the belt. “I’ve been wet since the car and all I can think about is what it felt like to be full of you.”

It was definitely a growl Seungcheol let out then, the hand in your hair tightening its grip and his other hand coming to cover yours on his belt. “I swear to fucking God.” Dark eyes bore into yours. “You wanna be full of me, princess?”

You nodded, literally throbbing at the idea of him inside you again. Finally. 

“Then you’re gonna need to take my cock out, aren’t you?” The hand covering yours moved to the neck at the back of his shirt, pulling it up and off of him, and he arched an eyebrow at you as he let it fall to the floor at his feet. “First time taking off a belt?”

Actually, you’d been distracted as hell by the sight of his naked torso – something you were never going to get used to seeing up close. To touching, Jesus. But also floored at his casual delivery of the first question and wrapping your head around why you liked it so much. 

Mentally shaking yourself, you ignored the heat you felt spreading across your cheeks, instead opening said belt deliberately roughly. Purposefully tugging hard on one end to slip the belt through the loops on his pants, smiling serenely up at him once it was out and you dropped it next to you. “Like that?” 

He narrowed his eyes, but the twitch of his lips belied his humor. “You are such a fucking brat.”

You grinned, popping the button of his jeans open, then sliding the zipper down. “I know, but you like me anyway, soooo. What does that say about you?” 

“Two things.” Seungcheol leaned in to brush his lips against yours, then captured your lower lip between his teeth and gave it a slight tug before releasing it, smiling at the breathy whimper you let out. “One, I’m never gonna know a moment’s peace. Two, I must really like you.”

There went the butterflies in your belly again. Damn the man. Except not really because you liked that swoopy feeling. 

“Yeah?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Maybe you just have a thing for brats,” you teased. “Have you seen someone about that? Because it seems like that could maybe be not great.”

He chuckled and nipped at the skin beneath your jaw. “Fishing for compliments or trying to ask about my dating history without actually asking?”

“I wasn’t – I didn’t – no?” Liar, liar, pants on fire.

You felt him smile against you and saw the quirk at the corner of his mouth still there when he lifted his head. “I have a thing exclusively for you, princess,” Seungcheol said then, forehead pressed to yours. “Whatever mood you’re in.”

“That’s really good because I am seriously terrible at sharing.”

“I know,” he acknowledged, voice low and rough. “Likewise. Now, you gonna kneel and let me fill that pretty mouth of yours with my cock or are you gonna lie back, so I can get my mouth on your cunt? I bet you’re aching for some relief by now.”

Your knees made the decision for you, going gelatinous before he’d even finished speaking, the free fall only stopped by his quick reflexes, hands catching your upper arms and slowing your descent. He cursed and cupped the back of your head once you settled in front of him, fingers finding purchase in your hair. “Wanna suck me off that bad, huh?”

“Yeah,” you admitted, biting at your bottom lip, and keeping your eyes on his. Reaching into his jeans, you carefully took him out, slipping his cock through the opening in his boxers and tracing your fingertips along the length of him. You’d barely had the chance to touch him the night prior, too desperate to have him buried as deep inside you as he could get, for him to drive his cock into you until you forgot why you weren’t supposed to want it. 

Now, though, you could touch and tease and taste to your heart’s content. 

He hissed, fingers in your hair fisting, tightening his grip just enough for you to feel the pull and gasp. You wrapped your hand around him, giving the shaft a slow stroke, and brought your other hand up to brace yourself on his thigh. Another slow stroke. Another and you leaned in, nuzzling against him where his other thigh met his pelvis, quite honestly glorying in the tension you could feel in his leg, could hear in the hitch of his breath. 

Dragging your lips across his lower abdomen, peppering him with soft kisses, you continued to lazily pump him in your hand, intentionally letting your breath spill out against the tip of his cock as you deliberately passed over it with your mouth. Instead, you pressed your lips against the skin on the other side of his abdomen, your tongue slipping out to lick that same skin before you sucked at it, a sharp pull into your mouth that left the beginnings of a bruise. 

The hand in your hair drew your head away from your ministrations and tilted it back so you were forced to look up into his stormy gaze. “Having fun?” 

Your answering grin would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. “I really am.”

Seungcheol’s soft laugh only made you smile wider and he shook his head. “I bet. Since you seem to be having such a hard time remembering how to suck dick, I’m gonna help you out.”

God, that condescending tone should not turn you on. It shouldn’t. But fuck, it did. You rubbed your thighs together, swallowing hard and nodding. 

“Open,” he prompted you, voice dropping an octave. He cooed when your lips parted, hand in your hair guiding your face forward. His other hand covered yours over his cock, pumping it slowly as he brushed the tip against your lower lip. “That’s it. This is what you wanted, right?”

The needy sound that bubbled up and out of you in that moment would be embarrassing at any other time or in any other situation, but the twinge of shame at just how much power this man whom you used to hate had over you was not enough to stop you from darting your tongue out to taste him. In fact, the shame was washed away by his moan and the fierce fire in his gaze as he stared down at you. 

Took in the sight of you on your knees for him. A sight which you knew hid absolutely nothing of your desire. A sight which, in all actuality, screamed out your want of him: pupils blown, breath coming in sharp, shallow pulls, thighs pressed together in search of friction, arousal spilling from you, dripping down said thighs, and your mouth open and waiting. 

Inviting. Beseeching. 

Seungcheol’s curse was a growl. “Fuck. Gonna kill me, princess.” That strong hand was deceptively gentle when he drew your face further forward, cock slipping into your mouth, sliding across your tongue. When you closed your lips around him and sucked, tongue laving against the underside – teasing at the sensitive spot just under the tip – his head dropped back and you hummed around him. 

You were on your knees and his fingers were still fisted in your hair, gently guiding your mouth over his length – the picture of being in a position of power, but he wasn’t. How could he be when you could feel the way his thigh muscles spasmed beneath your fingertips, the way he had to use every ounce of control he possessed to not just thrust into your mouth, to bury his cock all the way into your throat, the way your name left his lips on a breathy groan as you started to move your mouth on him faster?

As you started to take him deeper, your hand under his pumping what you couldn’t fit inside your mouth, as you continued to suck and lick. Until you pulled your mouth off of him and traced a line down his dick to tease at him beneath the base, gently suckling at the sensitive skin while you let your thumb brush over his tip, teasing at the slit and spreading the precome over the head. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he rasped, hand slipping from beneath yours to cup your jaw, thumb grazing across your lower lip while his dark, hungry eyes met yours as you took him back in between your lips. “Such a good girl for me when you’ve got your mouth full, hm?” 

Letting him slip out of your mouth, you countered, “So nice when you’re getting your dick sucked, hm?” You tried desperately to ignore the full-body shiver that went through you at his words. 

His wolfish smile should have been a warning, but you were too proud of yourself for managing that Grade A comeback in the middle of going down on the hottest dude you’d ever actually known, who was also the biggest pain in your ass ever, to notice. And fine, the larger part of you who just honestly liked the man and got off on getting him off after having to just watch him get himself off for so long, was too into the moment, fully relishing being able to indulge without guilt – without questioning yourself constantly like the night before – to consider how he might take said comeback. 

At least until he was jerking your head away from his cock and stepping back. 

That, you noticed. You frowned. “What –?”

“I can be very nice, princess. Or very mean. Depends on you,” he said with another one of those exasperating smirks, as if that explained anything. 

You watched as he slowly stroked his cock with one hand, the other hand brushing his hair back, and you were fucking jealous of his hands. Which was just ridiculous but it was true. 

Tearing your gaze from the sight of his fingers wrapped around himself, you lifted it to his. “Depends on me…how?” 

Seungcheol brought the hand in his hair to cup your chin and his thumb traced across your lower lip. “It depends on whether you want me to be nice or to be mean,” he said softly, eyes warm, attentive, and charged. 

“What if I want you to be both?” you asked, resting your hands on his thighs and pressing yours together. Challenging him and confessing to him, all at once.

He groaned and the hand at your chin slid to your neck, encircling it with a gentle pressure and forcing your head back. “Then it depends on whether you behave or act up, doesn’t it?”

Jesus Christ. You had literally never wanted anyone more. Nodding, you swallowed hard, the press of his palm against your throat only adding kindling to the lustful fire burning in your core.

“Words, princess.”

“Y–Yes.”

His dark eyes locked on yours. “Stand up,” he instructed. 

You complied, pushing yourself to your feet and standing on unsteady legs in front of him. 

Seungcheol purred, “Good girl,” then ran the back of his fingers over your cheek, a touch you instinctively leaned into. “I need you to do something else for me now, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you sighed, nuzzling into the hand that was now cupping your jaw. “Of course.”

“Strip for me,” he said and you sucked in a breath. “Then lie back on the bed, part those pretty thighs, and show me just how wet that pussy is for me.”

Heat. Scalding heat. It rushed over you like an inferno and you gaped at him. 

His tongue darted out and wetted his lips before they pulled into a smirk. “I bet it’s nice and messy already, isn’t it?”

Oh fuck him. 

Fuck him for being so cocky and bossy and hot and attractive and knowing you well enough to know that you would (at that it was). And fuck you because you were already pulling your shirt up and off, your bra following closely behind. There went your pants. You hesitated with your thumbs in the waistband of your panties, glancing up at him, noting he’d taken a step closer and inhaling sharply at his proximity. 

“Those too, princess. Unless you need my help,” he challenged and all the air left your lungs when he stepped even closer, his hands settling onto yours at either side. “I might not be as gentle with them, though. You want to keep these or should I rip them off of you?” 

Whatever word came out of your mouth in that moment was not an actual word in any language known to man. 

Except apparently Seungcheol because the look he gave you was wicked, right before you felt the fabric snap and fall, panties only held up then by your thighs, still tightly held together. God. You rocked forward on your feet until your front pressed against his chest and his arms came up around you, one hand resting against your lower back and the other caressing its way up your spine. “You,” you said on a gasp, “do not play fair. And you owe me two pairs now.” 

He nuzzled your neck and his breath was warm when he let out a soft chuckle. “If I played fair, I wouldn’t be here with you. I wouldn’t have you trembling in my arms or know that you want me as badly as I want you. Why would I play fair when you like it so much that I don’t?” 

Your fingers dug into his triceps, grounding yourself and stabilizing yourself with the grip on his upper arms. “You…may have a point.” 

You felt him smile against your jaw and the hand at your lower back pulled your hips into his, a low whimper passing your lips as the move had his still bare cock pressed to your naked belly. He groaned and then both hands were at your hips, lifting you, tossing you away from him and onto the bed behind you. Fucking tossing you. As you landed, you bade good riddance to the last vestiges of denial about liking to be manhandled. 

At least by him. 

“I’ll buy you a dozen pairs of panties, princess. Buy you a new pair every day if it means I get to tear them off of you and have you clinging to me.” That damned eyebrow arched at you again when you went to argue the ‘clinging’ point, his hands moving to the waistband of his jeans and boxers, pushing both articles of clothing down his hips. 

The sight of which promptly stopped the denial before it could make it anywhere close to being spoken. Instead, you scooted further back on the bed, settling yourself against the pillows as you watched him. You tangled your hands in the comforter at your sides, lust-stricken gaze focused entirely on the man in front of you. Your breath caught in your throat once the last of his clothing was kicked away and Seungcheol knelt on the foot of the bed. 

God, you wanted him and part of you was still floored at that and at the knowledge that you could have him. That you had him already.

His eyes were dark as his gaze swept up your legs, as it lingered on your bared breasts and the sharp rise and fall of your chest with each shallow breath, as it found yours. “Legs,” he reminded you and you had to squeeze your eyes shut at the force of the need that crashed into you at the pitch of his voice. 

You let your legs fall open, a soft moan spilling from you when Seungcheol’s palms landed on your shins and slid up to your knees, to your thighs. Your eyes flew open when his hands parted your legs further and you felt him slip between them, his knees against the bed on either side of your hips, while he pressed a hand to the pillow next to you. His other hand continued to slide up your body, fingertips tracing up your torso to tease circles over the skin of your breasts, never quite circling close enough to the center to graze against your nipples. 

“Ch-Cheol,” you panted in protest, arching your spine and pushing your chest into his touch. 

“Hm?”

“Stop teasing.” 

Seungcheol cooed. “My poor princess. Tell me what you need.”

Jerk. You glared. “Need you to touch me.”

“I am touching you,” he said. “See?” Seungcheol punctuated the question with a pinch of your nipple, earning a choked gasp from you before he released the swollen bud and palmed your breast, thumb then softly brushing over your nipple. 

Pushing your head back into the pillow, you leaned into his hold, hands clutched at the bedding beside your hips. “Please.”

He smiled and ducked his head to kiss along the line of your throat as he shifted over you. “There’s my polite girl,” he murmured and you felt his breath against your collarbone as his kisses fell still further down your body, “asking so nicely.” You brought a hand up to the back of his head, fisting your fingers in his hair at the first sweep of his tongue against the swell of your breast, and earning a low groan from Seungcheol. 

His tongue flicked over your nipple and he caught the peaked flesh between his teeth, wrapping his lips around it and pulling it into his mouth with a sharp suck that you felt in your cunt. You squirmed, the hand in his hair tightening, a whine pouring out from between your lips as the hand that had been on your breast dropped to your thigh and squeezed, thumb pressing into the line where your thigh met your pelvis, sliding against skin slick with your desire. 

He hummed around your breast, releasing your nipple to lave at it with his tongue before sucking a mark into the flesh of your breast. Seungcheol shifted his hand and drew his thumb through your folds, a slippery slide from your entrance to your swollen clit and then back down. “Love how wet you get for me, princess.”

You shuddered and whimpered. “Cheol, please.”

“So fucking needy,” he growled, pushing his thumb into your cunt and drawing it back out again to circle around the opening in a tease. “Just for me, right?” 

“You’re– You’re kidding, right?” you managed to gasp out, tilting your hips in silent entreaty. 

An entreaty which he ignored. Instead, he tutted, pulling his hand away entirely and you had to bite down hard on your lower lip to keep in a whine of protest, while he shifted further down on the mattress. “Answer the question.” Bracing his weight on palms on the bed at either side of your waist, he pressed his lips to your belly button as his eyes – so dark they may as well be black – bore into yours. 

“God, you’re so –” Annoying. He was annoying, but his shoulders were between your thighs, then, holding them open while he trailed kisses down your lower abdomen. One hand fell to your knee and he pushed your leg up, pushed it out, then his mouth was pressing into the sensitive skin of your inner thigh, teeth grazing it and tongue slipping out to trace up the inside of your thigh. “Oh, fuck,” you said on a soft moan. “Y-Yes, Cheol. Only – Just for you.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” His words were a low rumble against your skin and then he was groaning. Seungcheol’s lips covered your cunt, his tongue parting your folds and tasting you, licking at your entrance and drawing your arousal into his mouth, pushing into you and tearing a mewl from you. “Taste so fucking good, princess,” he rasped as he drew back to shift his weight and slid his tongue up your slit to flick at your clit before wrapping his lips around it and sucking. 

Your body jerked and both of your hands clawed at his hair, his shoulders, his name falling from your lips in a choked gasp. 

He hummed and the vibrations against your clit while he continued to lap and suck at the sensitive flesh, made your head spin. Made you shiver and whimper, body restless beneath his ministrations, forcing him to hold your hips down with a palm on your belly. And Jesus, you loved that even more. Loved that he held you down and just made you take the pleasure he was giving you. 

You whimpered and felt him smile against you. 

The hand not holding your hips to the bed had a vise grip on your thigh and you wanted to feel the imprint of his fingers tomorrow. The next day and the next. So you told him as much, which earned you a breathy curse, choked as it was in a mirthless laugh against your cunt. 

“Yeah? You want me to mark you up, princess?” he murmured, sliding his hand up your thigh and waiting until your gaze met his – until you felt dizzy with the heat you found in his and shuddered, your nails digging into his nape – to slowly drag his tongue through your swollen, slick folds while his hand released your thigh to press a finger into your cunt. His own breath catching at the way your body sucked him in and the needy whine you let out. “Fuck, yeah, you do. Wanna know I’ve been here. Touching you like you’re mine because you are. Want this, too, don’t you?”

Fuck. Fuck fuck fucking fuck fuck. You wanted – what you wanted was – 

“More.” That much you knew and could articulate. “Want more, Cheol.”

“I’ll give you more, sweetheart,” he promised, doing just that as he gave you another finger and started pumping them both into and out of you, curving them until they dragged against the spot that left you hissing and bucking with each pass. “Give you anything.” Seungcheol flattened his tongue and circled your clit with it, groaning at the way you writhed. “Everything.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly and covering the hand on your abdomen with one of yours, lacing your fingers through his and squeezing as you fought to keep your gaze on him, on the hungry, scalding, possessive, fucking tender look in his while his mouth and fingers drove you closer to the edge. “Want t-that. Want all of y-you,” you admitted before throwing your head back, unable to keep your eyes open anymore. Your brows pinched together and you bit your lower lip, struggling to swallow back the desperate sounds threatening to spill from your mouth. 

“Nuh uh,” he said in a growl. “Let me hear you fall apart for me, princess. Gonna see and hear and fucking taste it.” The fingers thrusting into you then were three and he fucked you with them harder while he sucked at your clit and his tongue pressed more firmly against it as he moved it on you faster. 

Driving you up the goddamned wall. 

In a straight shot into a climax that you couldn’t fight any more than you could bite back the moans of his name or curses or pleas or even – Fuck your mouth, honestly, the damned betrayer – a choked “thank you” as the orgasm slammed into you. The only thing keeping you from floating away was his strong palm, still pressed to your body and holding you in place. 

Vaguely, you were aware of the rush of arousal that left you, coating his face with you, spilling over your bedding and soaking the fucking fabric in a way that you were going to bemoan later when you needed to sleep. 

His tone was pleased – so pleased and proud of himself – and as rough as you’d ever heard it when he spoke your name then. Muttered about what “a good girl you are for me,” and cooed, “that’s it.” Told you how “fucking hot you are, shit, princess,” as he drew back to cover your torso with soft kisses and gentle nips while he made his way back up your body.

You would be mortified that he was able to work your body like that if you weren’t so thunderstruck by that he was able to. If you weren’t still boneless and breathless, arms automatically coming up to encircle his shoulders, instinctively curving your neck to bare it to him for more of those delicious, addicting brushes of his lips and swipes of his tongue. 

“Cheol, Jesus,” you breathed. 

“Mm. I’ve got you,” he said quietly, the hand not holding his weight petting your side, from your thigh to your ribcage. Soothing touches while you waited for your brain to come back online and for your body to stop shaking with aftershocks. 

Eventually, your brain did even if your body hadn’t quite, and you carded your fingers through his hair, bringing his head up and drawing his lips to yours. You let out a happy little hum at the taste of yourself on him and the way he hissed when your lower bodies brushed against each other. The hard jut of his cock against your pelvis and the harsh grip he took of your hip as he rested his forehead on yours reminded you that you weren’t done and that he wanted – needed – you as much as you wanted and needed him. 

You lifted your legs to wrap around his waist and your eyes rolled back as the action brought his bare cock to your cunt and he ground into you, the slide made easy, so easy, by the wetness that still coated you and slipped from you. He cursed and buried his face in the crook of your neck, teeth catching your skin and biting down gently when you moaned his name. 

“Ch-Cheol, God, I want – please. Need you inside me. Wanna be full of you.”

“I know you do. Fuck, I need that, too.” Seungcheol pushed himself up enough that he could look down at you, gaze meeting yours as he rolled his hips again, both of you gasping at the drag of his cock through your folds. “Let me go get a condom,” he gritted out even as he rocked against you once more. 

You mewled, arching into him. Clawing at his shoulders. “Do you want – Are you clean?” 

Eyes so dark they were nearly black bore into you at that and his voice was a rasp. “Yeah, princess. I’m clean. You? You on something?” 

Your next breath was sharp and you couldn’t look away, trapped by the force of his gaze. “Uh, yeah, I have an IUD and obviously, I got checked out after I found out James cheated. I’m goo–” His mouth on yours swallowed the rest of your words, tongue sliding along yours, lips crushed to yours, stealing the remainder of your breath before pulling back to let you both gasp for air. 

“James is such a fucking idiot. His loss,” Seungcheol murmured, brushing his nose against yours, his hold shifting from your hip to the back of your thigh, fingers digging into the muscle there while he hitched your leg higher up his torso. “My gain. You gonna let me fuck you raw, princess? Fill you all the way up with me?” he practically growled before biting at your lower lip. “That what you want?”

Every nerve in your body lit up at his words and the way he was circling his hips, grinding the underside of his dick against your clit in a way that left you clinging to his shoulder blades and doing your best to rock up into him. “Jesus Christ, Cheol. You can’t – can’t say shit like that!” 

He grinned and let out a puff of breathy laughter, tilting his hips to nudge at your entrance with his cock. Short, shallow rocks of his hips teased you with what you both wanted and you pouted up at him. You fucking pouted. “Like it too much, huh?”

“I hate you,” you grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut and pressing your head back into the pillow, legs tightening around his body in an effort to silently encourage him to stop teasing you and just fuck you already. 

The roughness in his voice when he swatted at your ass was dizzying. “That’s not very nice, princess. Why don’t you answer the question instead of trying to lie to me?”

The question. Questions. There had been several of them, hadn’t there? Each one purposefully uttered to devastate you, the stupid, annoying, attractive, smart, endearing  (endearing???), intoxicating man who knew exactly which buttons to push. “Yes, yes, yes, and yes, okay,” you said finally, reluctantly, impatiently. “Yes to all of the questions, Seungcheol.”

His response in turn was to let out a shaky breath and press his hips forward, cock at your entrance pushing into you, filling you up exactly as you’d wanted. He didn’t stop until his pelvis was flush to yours and a roll of his hips had him grinding against your clit, tearing a soft gasp of his name from you. 

You shuddered, clenching around him, and tangled a hand in his hair to tether yourself, the sharpest of pleasure sparking through you at the sensation of him buried deep inside you without any barriers between the two of you. His breath fanned out over your face, warm and unsteady, and another wave of want rolled over you at the way his features were pinched – his brows pulled together, lips pursed, jaw tight – while he held himself over and inside you. The moment felt intimate, so intimate, and you wanted to drown in it. 

In him.

In the sexual heat and the tenderness that made your heart flutter in your chest when his eyes opened and met yours, all walls fallen away, lying in metaphorical pieces at your feet. Naked need was there, yes, but also the affection that he’d kept hidden from you all this time. You bit at your bottom lip, sucking it into your mouth as you let yourself take it in. Forced yourself not to hide from it or question it. 

Then he drew his hips back and slid out of you, only to reach down and guide the tip of his cock to your clit, circling it, teasing and tempting and excruciating. “Ch-Cheol,” you warned — whined? 

Forehead pressed to yours, he placed a kiss on your mouth, then was sliding into you again, giving you every inch. Every bit of him until he bottomed out, pulled back, then rocked forward, filling your aching, needy, greedy cunt with his cock. His words were low and warm, rough, spoken against your lips. “There you go. S’what you needed, right? Fuck, you feel so goddamned good, taking me so well.” 

You nodded, fingers fisting in his hair and your other hand clawing at his sweat-slicked back, and bucking your hips up to meet him.

“Such a good girl for me, get so wet and always ready to take my cock, hm?” he said, grunting as he snapped his hips on his next thrust, pleasure punching into you with the sharp movement and the wet slap that sounded at the impact of his skin against yours. “Listen to that. You hear it?” He punctuated the question with another, then another harsh snap of his hips into yours and you felt heat flaming in your cheeks, radiating through you at the lewd sounds echoing in the room with each one.

Seungcheol started to find a rhythm, driving himself into you, leaving your head spinning and you couldn’t. stay. still. Your legs squeezed his waist and your pussy clenched around him, a desperate contraction to keep him in you and feel every inch, every drag and pull against your inner walls. You couldn’t bite back a moan – you tried to swallow it and the way your lips wrapped around his name, the way both spilled from your mouth reedy, breathlessly, a plea and a question and a demand. 

In response, he groaned your name into the curve of your neck, a hand cupping your ass, slipping to the back of your thigh, fingers digging into the soft flesh as he hitched your hips against him and dragged you up onto his thighs as he knelt between yours, lifting you into his thrusts. Stars bursting behind your eyelids as the actions had his cock hitting you just right, you gasped. Writhed. Arched your neck and held his face to your neck, sucking in a sharp breath when his teeth caught your skin. 

You wanted to drown in him and for him to drown in you. You were drowning in him. “Please, please, please. Cheol, please.”

“Beg so prettily,” he growled and you heard the hitch in his own breath, felt him shudder above you as he rutted into you, as he gave you more of him. “I’ve got you, princess.” 

“I know you d-do. Just – I just –” 

Words got tangled up in the back of your throat – or maybe they didn’t even make it that far, maybe they were stuck in your brain, twisting and twining around each other until you couldn’t tease out what you wanted to say. What you needed to say. You just knew that you needed. Needed this, needed more, needed him. 

Needed Seungcheol. 

Which was ridiculous because he was literally inside of you. His broad body was covering yours, surrounding you and filling you. His harsh breaths spilled out against your neck and lips pressed to the hollow of your throat. At least until he lifted his head so he could look down into your eyes, hand releasing your thigh to gently encircle your neck, his thumb catching your jaw and tilting your face toward his. Irises swallowed by his pupils, Seungcheol’s eyes were nearly black as they studied you. 

As they watched the way your lashes fluttered and you bit at your bottom lip, breath coming in gasps while each thrust, each drive of his cock into your cunt had you spiraling. Drove you closer and closer to the sharp edge of bliss. Your fingers in his hair clutched at it as if the grip could keep you from falling beneath the rapidly rising waters of…what? Of your want for him and your feelings for him? 

That steady, searching, scalding gaze seemed to miss nothing. Of all people in the world, it was Seungcheol who saw you and somehow knew you on the most terrifyingly, liberating, and comfortingly intimate level. This whole time. The whole time you’d been with his best friend, he’d been watching you, seeing you, wanting you. His eyes flared with understanding and fucking tenderness, and it was your heart that felt caught in a vise in that moment.

“I’m here,” he spoke softly then. “I’ve got you and m’not goin’ anywhere.” He pressed his lips to yours, hissed against them, and slid the hand at your throat down your torso, drew those dangerous fingers of his along the front of you until they slipped between your legs to your clit. 

You sucked in a breath, nodding, brushing a kiss against his lips. “Good, because – ‘cause I’m not gonna l-let you. Keeping – keeping you.” You pressed another kiss against his cheek where that devastating dimple would be if he smiled and oh, he did. He did and you were so fucking smitten with the man. Smitten and whining because he also chose to start rubbing at your clit in that moment, while his hips snapped and he pounded into you. “Oh fuck. Cheol.”

Seungcheol groaned and you thrilled at the sound, at the sight of his oh-so-pleased, self-satisfied, knowing smile. “My possessive princess. You’ve – shit – you’ve got me, too.” 

Your body twisted itself into the best sort of knots at the words and with each breath he took, each drive into you, every swirl of his fingers against your clit. Tension built and built and built, and you were right there at the edge of everything. 

“Let go for me, sweetheart. Show me I’m yours by coming on my cock, hm? Make me nice and messy. Let me feel it.” His words were a rasp and you were going to die. You were. 

Let the goddamned tidal wave overtake you because you couldn’t – couldn’t take it, couldn’t hold it back, couldn’t do anything except own the fact that yeah, he fucking was yours. (You might actually have said that then, the words a soft exhalation against his lips while your gaze was locked on his and you drowned in the force of the emotion there, the challenge and the pride and the lust and the possessiveness of his own, the warm affection underlying it all). 

“That’s it,” he purred, and you let yourself be swept away by the full force of that wave of want and need that coalesced into overwhelming bliss as your climax hit. Let yourself tremble and cling to him, cunt pulsing around his cock, earning you a curse, a growl of your name, and a harsh kiss. A bruising kiss broken only by the need to breathe. 

Desperate pulls of air into your lungs as your body shook beneath him and you felt him holding himself tense above you while he watched you ride out your orgasm, while he slowed the motions of his fingers and instead ground his pelvis into yours, slow rolls to draw out your pleasure. Sensitive. You were so sensitive. Whimpering, you gave him a questioning look as you tried to make your brain – your ability to words – come back online. 

Seungcheol’s forehead pressed to yours and his brows pinched together, his teeth gritted as he held himself back. “Until all you know is me, right?”

What – he was saying. It took several moments for you to put it together and when you did, his name left you in a whoosh. “Y-Yeah.”

“Not gonna run away this time, though, are you? Gonna let me keep my promise?” 

Fuck. 

A flash of guilt swept through you and you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him even closer, until his chest was pressed flush to yours and you could feel each others’ chests rising and falling with breaths, the beat of one another’s hearts. That was on you. A lot of the messiness between you had been on him, but that – running away – had been on you, despite the fact that he said he understood. You cradled the back of his head, fingernails gently grazing his scalp. 

“I’m not going anywhere, either, Cheol. I was serious when I said I’m keeping you, so you’re, you know, stuck with me.” 

He hummed, dark eyes boring into yours. “Good,” he said lowly, echoing your earlier words. His hips, that had been doing that slow, teasing grind into you, drew back and then he pushed them forward, a deep thrust that you could swear you felt in your throat. He repeated the action and you bit back a gasp. 

“Also, I mean, we’re at my apartment, so running away would be kind of pointless, wouldn’t it?” 

His eyes flashed with a familiar challenge and you couldn’t help the soft, shameless laugh that bubbled up and out of you. “Smartass.” 

Your laugh turned into a choked whimper when his next thrust and the next and the next were hard, fast, and stealing the breath from you. “Drive me fucking crazy,” he growled as he found his rhythm, a hand fisting in your hair and tilting your head back to bare your neck to his mouth, to his teeth. 

“L-Likewise,” you admitted, arching up into him. Inviting him to take and take. Demanding he do it, honestly. Needing him to lose himself as you had before. You were game to only know him but fair was fair and you wanted to be all he knew.

Seungcheol nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin of your throat while his hips snapped into yours. Again and again and again.

Until you were clawing at his shoulders, digging your nails into his skin, letting out breathy whines and whimpers and gasps of his name, of, “Please” and, “Don’t stop, God, don’t ever stop.”

His fingers gripped your hips tightly enough to bruise then he was sitting up, dragging you up with him and into his lap. Lips crashing into yours, covering yours, sucking them into his mouth and dragging his teeth over them, each pull on them sending a pulse of heat to your core. Seungcheol drove his cock up into you, the hold at your sides guiding you up and down over his length, cooing at you when you tore your mouth from his to catch a breath and buried your face in his neck. 

He released one of your hips to wrap an arm around your torso, hand finding the back of your head and petting you – fucking petting you, which you actually really, really liked, goddamn it – as you clung to his shoulders and felt yourself spiraling. Rushing toward another crest, each upward drive of him into your cunt ratcheting up the tension within you. This time, it was even better, though, because you could hear the way his breathing was unsteady and feel the way his rhythm faltered. 

You could hear the desperate need in the roughness of his voice as he promised not to stop, never to stop, and told you how much he had wanted this, wanted you, that could never get enough. That you were his and he was yours and he’d show you “every fucking day,” so you “never forget how goddamned beautiful, how fucking precious” you were. You felt the tightness of the muscles in his back while he sped toward that inevitable bliss point with you. 

“Cheol, Cheol, Cheol.” His name fell from your lips again and again. “Close.” You were panting at that point, your own teeth catching the skin where his shoulder met his neck as you bit back another whine. “Need to – need to feel you. Want you to – want you to feel good, too.”

“Fuck,” he hissed when you clenched around him. “Already do, fuck, I already do. Feel so fuckin’ good squeezing my cock like that, princess.” His fingers fisted your hair as he bucked up into you, hand at your hip shifting to again find your clit and give you the friction you needed. “Tell you what,” he said in a groan. 

“A-Anything,” you agreed, nodding, knowing your answer would be the same no matter what his next words were. You swallowed hard and writhed, nails digging into his back, as you fought to maintain focus, to hear what he needed to say. 

“Be the good girl I know you can be – my good girl – and come.” 

You would. You really would. But you wanted him to –

“You do that and I’ll fill you up with my come. Until it’s dripping from you and you never doubt again that you’re mine.”

Jesus. Christ. 

You could no more stop yourself from doing exactly as instructed than you could stop your heart from its next beat. Filthy. The mental image was filthy and sexy and you wanted it to be reality, wanted it deep in your bones. It was your turn to growl, then: his name into his neck while you shattered into delicious, floaty, blissed out pieces. 

His voice was a rasp in your ear when he felt you falling apart around him, every muscle in your body spasming and you were shaking, shuddering, the only thing holding you in place was him. His strong arms around you. The force in his grip at your shoulders as he held you down while he fucked into you once, twice, three times, and then he was done. It was him shuddering and shaking, clutching you to his body while spilled himself inside of you and moaned your name into the air, into your ear, against your lips as his mouth covered yours. 

You both held tightly to each other in that moment. In the next and the next. Another rush of pleasure lapped at you at the feeling of him being buried deep inside and further still while his come did, indeed, drip from you when he pulled out. Your come, his come – the both of you were a mess and you definitely were going to need to change the sheets before you went to bed, but you didn’t care. (Actually, that was a lie. You cared, but did so in the sense that you loved it, loved the way it was tangible evidence of what had happened, of what it signified. And yes, okay, a purely primal part of you thrilled at knowing Seungcheol was drenched in you. And fine, that same part of you thrilled at knowing you were – not drenched in him, exactly, but that you were full of him.)

Your forehead dropped to his shoulder and his hands tenderly brushed over your back, softly rubbing up and down along the line of your spine. A quiet, contented sigh left you then, a gentle rush of air against his skin. One of his hands came to cradle the back of your head and you felt his lips press to your temple, heard as well as felt him speak your name in that deep voice that was so filled with warmth and affection it made your breath catch and your arms around him tighten. 

“Thank you,” he said with another brush of his lips to your temple.

“For what?” you asked, trying to work out whether the man was actually thanking you for having sex with him or there was something else you’d missed. 

He smiled – you could hear it in his voice as much as you could feel the curl of his lips against your skin. God, you were smitten. “You want a list?”

Pulling back so you could look at him, your own mouth pulled into an answering smile. “There’s enough for a list?”

“Oh, definitely.” 

“Really? Well hell. Yeah, I want the list!”

“Mm, you want it in alphabetical or chronological order?”

“Cheol.”

“Hm?”

You just looked at him.

He grinned, letting out a breath of laughter. “For finding my stream and watching. For not being able to stay away even once you figured out who I was. For turning on the audio on our private stream. For giving me the chance to explain. For listening. For forgiving me.” The last, he said while he pressed his forehead to yours. His dark, now so serious eyes locked on yours, trapping your gaze so you couldn’t look away, couldn’t hide or miss the sincerity in his. 

It was a lot, being so close to him, being so bare for him and having him be so emotionally laid bare for you in turn. Those butterflies in your belly were out of control. “For the sex?”

“Princess.” 

“What?”

He lifted a brow.

You squirmed.

“It feels really weird to say ‘You’re welcome’ for masturbating while watching you get yourself off on camera.”

The noise he made was choked. 

“It does!” you said in a laugh, inordinately proud of yourself for causing him to make that sound. 

“Maybe, but I would’ve been very sad if you didn’t touch yourself while watching me.” 

“So needy!” 

Seungcheol’s gaze dropped to take in the sight of you, still wrapped around him where you sat, basically in his lap. Still a fucking mess. He looked oh-so-pleased at the sight once his eyes found yours again, and you felt the heat bloom in your cheeks under his knowing perusal. “What’s that saying about the pot and kettle?”

“...no comment.” 

“Now, you have no comment? That’s convenient,” he teased, chuckling when you swatted the back of his shoulder in response. 

Pursing your lips, you narrowed your eyes at him. “You. Hush.”

Seungcheol shifted on the bed, moving toward the edge and bringing you with him, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he did so. “Yes, your highness.” 

You sputtered, yelping and clinging to Seungcheol when he stood from the bed, lifting you up as he did so. Briefly – for half a second – your life flashed before your eyes until you remembered the man had carried you to bed just like that the night prior and hadn’t dropped you. Still… “What are you doing?” 

“I’m taking you with me to clean up this time,” he replied breezily. Which, given that he was carrying you as he walked toward the door to your bedroom, was impressive. Not one grunt of exertion. Jesus. “Where’s your bathroom?”

—-------------------------

You were going to have dreams of Seungcheol with water from the showerhead raining down on him, streams of water rolling down his body, highlighting every muscle and the long stretch of his torso, sliding down, down, down. Down that toned abdomen, dripping into his belly button before droplets escaped to fall further, tracing paths along those thick thighs and strong calves. The complete lack of any fucks from him when your gaze caught on his cock, hard again, sharply jutting up into the space between the two of you. Rather, your dreams were going to be filled with the flash of daring in his gaze when you forced yourself to stop ogling him. 

Or Jesus, the tenderness in his touch as his hands drew the soap over your body and worked the shampoo into your hair. The graze of his fingernails against your scalp when he conditioned your hair and rinsed it. The open adoration in his eyes when you returned the favor and the soft squeezes of his hand at your hips while you did so. The memory of steam rising up to surround the both of you and cocoon you in a world of your own all the while.

Either or both (definitely both) were going to linger in your conscious and unconscious and you couldn’t even be mad because you were so bowled over by the experience. You wanted to do it all over again and lose yourself in it before he even finished turning the water off.

It was a miracle you managed to only get sidetracked once. Seriously, you dared anyone to be able to make it through a shared shower with Seungcheol without finding themselves with their back pressed to the slippery wall, leg hitched around Seungcheol’s hip, Seungcheol’s low grunts and soft, dizzying praise and titillating taunts breathed into their ear, while he fucked them into a state of bliss. It was not possible. It wasn’t. 

Eventually, though, the two of you were clean and dry. You had changed into comfy pajama shorts and a tank top, and you’d offered Seungcheol an old t-shirt and pair of sweats that James had left at some point. Seungcheol had grimaced when he realized what you were holding out to him, staring at the items of clothing as if they’d personally affronted him then looking up at you questioningly. 

“Just how much of his stuff did he ‘accidentally’ leave here?” 

“A…normal amount of stuff?”

He scowled then, scoffing, and muttering something about, “A normal amount of stuff is no stuff.” Looking around your bedroom as if your ex’s things would be scattered out in the open, as if trying to decipher what of the clutter might belong to his best friend. Former best friend? Were they still best friends? That could be awkward but it was not your problem. “When I leave, I’ll take it with me. I will personally return all of James’ things to him.”  

“Oh, will you?” 

“Yes.” The look he gave you as he tossed the sweats and t-shirt to the floor in favor of sliding his own jeans back up his legs and his own shirt over his head – well, if he were anyone else, you would call it a pout. 

It took everything in you to keep a straight face. To not coo at the man. He was adorable. 

“Are you actually jealous right now?” you asked.

“Jealous? No.” Seungcheol’s fingers encircled your wrist and he tugged you into him, a cocky slant to his mouth when you allowed yourself to be drawn toward him and wrapped your arms around his waist, resting against him. “Fighting the sudden urge to buy fucking couple’s shirts, of all things, and parade around town with you in them, yes. That, or hire one of those planes that pulls a banner behind it.”

Okay, that was just – the giggle that bubbled up and out of you was irrepressible, as was the warmth that bloomed in your chest. “Okay, so you’re not jealous; you’re just feeling super possessive. Totally different things,” you teased, pressing a kiss to his chin. 

He shrugged but you saw his lips twitch. “Exactly.” Those same lips brushed against yours. You felt them twitch this time, as he continued. “Although, honestly, if you wear anything other than turtle necks for the next week, I don’t think the couple’s shirts are necessary.”

Your hands flew up to your neck and you gaped at him. You’d known he was leaving some marks, but – “Exactly how many hickies did you give me, you damned vampire?” 

His face transformed, devastating dimples both on display, and his laugh was warm as he wound his arms around you. “No more than you gave me, Akasha.”

“I – Wait, was that a Queen of the Damned reference?”

Another laugh, an even broader grin, then you found yourself being guided to the living room and settling with him on the couch. He tucked you into his side and you snuggled closer. Oddly enough, the two of you agreed on what to watch with minimal fuss. It was easy – so easy – the way you found yourselves curled up with each other, Seungcheol grabbing the throw off the back of the couch and wrapping it around you. 

The hours flew by with shared commentary on the drama: the two leads were dripping in sexual tension and at some point, someone was going to plant a kiss on the other in the middle of an argument. You were sure it would happen sooner rather than later, but Seungcheol suggested they were stubborn enough and oblivious enough to drag it out as long as possible. Not two episodes later, one main character dragged the other into an embrace, crashing their lips together, and you cackled – Seungcheol looked so betrayed; you were just giddy for being right. 

Seungcheol stayed the night (of course he did). 

You, who normally had trouble sharing your space and bed with a new person, slept like a baby. For the first time in a long time, you weren’t kept up with spinning thoughts about the man lying behind you, thoughts and worries of what to do about him, about your feelings, about the unmitigated disaster that was looming. The truth was out and instead of everything falling apart around you, it was okay. It was more than. Seungcheol’s presence, the warmth of him pressed to your back, and the soft sounds of his breathing – the soft exhalation of air against the back of your neck – was soothing and you drifted off in no time.

—--------------------

The morning after brought with it sleepy smiles and groggy teasing that lead to breathless giggles as you squirmed beneath him, his fingers seeking (and finding unerringly fast) your most ticklish spots. In revenge, you wrapped your legs around his waist and drew him down into you, sending a coquettish smile up at him when he cursed at the unexpected action, at the intimate way you cradled his hips between your thighs. Said smile didn’t last long because what you started, Seungcheol finished. Play sexy games, win sexy prizes apparently.

By the time you dragged yourselves out of bed, the sun had been up for hours. Which meant that the two of you were rushing around to get out the door. You were supposed to be meeting Nari in half an hour and Seungcheol was twenty minutes late for meeting up with the friend he’d started helping move the day prior. 

His hissed, “Shit!” when he noticed the time had startled you at first, breaking your attention away from where you’d been looking through your closet for what to wear and drawing it right to him. The half-dressed, pull his pants on dance he did around your bedroom, all while he muttered apologies to you and swore up and down that what he wanted to do was stay and spend the day with you, was entirely too endearing. 

“Cheol, please don’t trip over your pants and give yourself a concussion. Here,” you said, picking up his shirt from the floor and tossing it over at him. “And it’s okay,” you offered reassurance while you grabbed the first top your hands touched, your glance at the time and his urgency igniting your own. If you could get out of the apartment in ten minutes, you would only be a little late. Nari would forgive you. Probably. No, definitely. She loved you, so she would totally forgive you. “We can do the whole ‘wake up and spend the day together thing’ another time.”

“We’ll do it more than once, princess,” he promised, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. He groaned and set another there. “Fuck, I really wanna stay.” Sighing, Seungcheol stepped back. “Okay. I’m going. I’ll talk to you tonight, though.”

“Yes, you will, now go.”

You didn’t even have time to process the way your heart fluttered at the smile that bloomed on his face before he was rushing out and you were turning back to your closet to pull out the nearest pair of jeans. Five minutes. You had five minutes to get out the door.

Totally doable.

Now, if only you could make it through the next couple of hours with Nari without it being blatantly obvious you were down deep and had spent the night with Seungcheol. Goddamn it, you cursed when you caught sight of yourself in the mirror on your way out. You had a fucking sex glow. 

—----------------------------

It turned out that – to no one’s surprise, least of all yours – Nari knew something was up in the first thirty seconds. Eyebrows knitted in curiosity quickly rose to her forehead, her eyes widened, and a sly smile curved her lips when you couldn’t meet her gaze as you took your seat. 

“Oh-ho! What happened?” she cajoled before making eye contact with the waiter who walked up to the table and asking him to bring another mimosa. He glanced at you for confirmation and, at your nod, moved to do just that. You were more of a bellini woman, but thinking about peach anything right now only made the fire in your cheeks burn hotter. 

While you waited for the waiter to come back with your drink and tried to ignore Nari’s patient, knowing gaze, you did the mental math: the odds of her letting you get away with blowing the question off were slim-to-none. It wasn’t that you didn’t want your friends to know! It was just…new. And God, they were going to give you so much (affectionate) shit. Seriously, the number of times you were going to hear “I told you so” in the near future was astronomical. 

You forced yourself to look at your friend then oh-so-casually spoke while pretending to be very interested in the brunch menu as if you hadn’t been to this exact place and ordered from this exact menu at least a hundred times. “Seungcheol and I talked it out.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her lean forward. “...And?”

“...And we maybe slept together? And he might have stayed over.” 

Her shriek made you wince and look around apologetically at the other diners, but the happy laugh as she scooted her chair around the table to sit next to you pulled a smile from you. “Oh my God, finally.” 

“Finally?”

“Mhm,” she hummed. “Seriously, you two are not subtle.” 

Jaw dropping, you scoffed. “We hated each –” you paused because that wasn’t true, was it? I don’t hate you. I never have. Seungcheol’s words echoed in your head. I’m crazy about you. Have been all along, even when I was acting like a jackass. There was that warmth in your chest again and there were those fucking butterflies in your belly. 

It must have shown on your face because Nari took the menu out of your hand and set it on the table, waiting until she had your full attention before she spoke again, softly. “You really like him,” she stated as fact. As if there were no question. “And I know he likes you. Tell me everything.”

You did, leaving no detail out. 

When Lily got back into town later that day and showed up at your door unannounced, with a wide, eager smile on her face as she pushed past you into your apartment and plopped down on your couch, you laughed. “Hi, Lily! Please, come in. Make yourself at home!”

She just grinned and settled further into her favorite spot on the couch. “Always do,” she said – well, sang, really. “Do you have any idea how hard it was not to text you ten thousand times yesterday? Because it was very hard. I had to make Jeonghan hide my phone from me at one point.“

“Your self control is admirable, really.”

“I know, right?”

“Uh huh. What brings you here again?”

“Nuh uh. Don’t you dare hold out on me! You didn’t kill each other, so you totally banged, right? And since you said there was some talking, you guys admitted you’re both super into each other?”

“Oh my God, Lily.”

Lily patted the cushion next to her. “Sit. Start talking.”

Resigned, you sat down beside her and grabbed your phone off the coffee table. “I’m calling Jess first. I can’t have this conversation two more times.”

She gasped. “You told Nari already, didn’t you?”

You laughed and dodged the pillow she tossed at you. “I had no choice! We had brunch earlier and my face hides nothing; you know this.”

“...Yeah, okay, that’s true. Ugh, fine,” she agreed reluctantly. “Call Jess and tell her to hurry! I need to know what I missed in the last thirty-six hours.”

Twenty minutes after calling her, Jess was there and you were caged between both of your friends as you told them what you’d told Nari earlier in the day. As you admitted that yes, you had feelings for Seungcheol – not just for the version of him that you’d known in the anonymous “phone calls” and messages, but for the man you’d been able to see and know, finally, in person. That they were one and the same and you knew that. You shared with them that Seungcheol confessed to never having hated you, that he’d been trying to look out for you with James since the beginning even if he were intentionally acting like a jackass out of some bizarre logic that only made sense to him in order to hide the fact that he had feelings for his best friend’s girlfriend. 

Lily’s snort in response to that particular piece of information earned her a questioning head tilt from you, to which she shrugged and said Jeonghan had told her as much. At your outraged protest, Jess joined you in staring expectantly at your other friend. Waiting for an explanation or elaboration or both. “You knew?” she directed at Lily.

Lily winced, waving her hands in front of herself. “I would’ve told you if you guys hadn’t talked it out this weekend. Arranging for you to run into each other at Jeonghan’s was sort of the last resort before the actual last resort, which would have been telling you. I wanted you to hear it from him instead of third-hand, from me, but I would have if he didn’t confess, I swear.” 

“I get it,” you said with a sigh and gave her a reassuring nudge with your elbow. “And I’m glad I heard it from him. For one thing, I would’ve found it harder to believe if it was coming from someone else, but also I think I would’ve been more mad if he didn’t just own up to it and apologize before I was, like, confronting him with the truth I’d already been told.”

Jess made a humming sound and when you glanced at her, she smiled wryly. “I barely know the man and I’m not thrilled he chose to be an ass rather than just act like an adult or admit that he was sweet on you so he, you know, was going to try to keep his distance…but it sounds like he at least realizes it was the wrong play and he’s willing to take responsibility for it.”

“I just want you to be happy. If Seungcheol makes you happy, then I’m happy,” Lily said, linking her arm through yours and leaning into your side. 

Jess mirrored the action on your other side and your lips curved into a soft smile as she spoke. “If he makes you unhappy, though, I’m more than happy to kick his ass.”

“Oh God, yeah. That goes without saying.”

You let out a laugh and squeezed the arms of your friends with yours. “I love you.”

“Love you, too,” they said against either shoulder. 

“I’m pretty confident it won’t come to that, though. He’s…not who I thought he was.”

“So what’s the plan, then? Are you guys together?” Lily asked from your left.

“The plan,” you started, brows pinching together, “is to uh – I mean, he did say he was crazy about me and that I could keep him? And he may have mentioned wanting to personally return all of James’ leftover things to him. And, um, said something about parading me around while we’re wearing couple’s shirts.”

Jess cackled before she caught herself and you saw her biting back a grin. “Definitely together, then. I would pay actual money to see the look on James’ face when Seungcheol shows up at his door with a box of his shit from your apartment.”

“I’d pay double if I got to watch him react to you and Seungcheol wearing matching shirts.” Lily didn’t even bother trying to hide her wicked smile. “What if we planned a…friendly dinner and forgot to mention to him when we invited him that –”

You cut her off. “No. We are not doing that.” 

“But think of the satisfaction when he realizes–” 

“No.”

“Fine, but if we ever naturally find ourselves in that situation, I’m totally recording it on my phone,” Lily promised and Jess held her hand up in front of you for a high five, which Lily happily gave her. 

“...” 

Not long after that, Nari came over, too. Surrounded by your best friends, you spent the rest of the evening together. Good-natured trolling and teasing was interspersed with food delivery and an impromptu living room dance party, which only ended when the last of you (Jess) finally had to flop onto the floor, lying on her back and staring up at the ceiling and trying to catch her breath while everyone else literally applauded her stamina. 

By the time everyone went home, it was too late for Seungcheol and you to get together, but you did manage to sneak in a couple of texts throughout the evening – much to your friends’ amusement – and a bedtime phone call. His sleepy voice over the line was just as devastating last thing at night as it had been when you’d called him at that ungodly hour the day prior. Warm and husky, it was equal parts tempting and soothing, of all things. 

“Don’t use your sex voice on me,” you demanded at some point, lips pursed into a pout at his chuckle in reply. 

“My sex voice? This is my normal voice.” He didn’t even try to hide the humor in his tone. “You sure you don’t just have a voice kink, princess?”

The warmth blooming in your cheeks – and between your legs, goddamn it – spoke volumes, but at least he could neither see nor feel either of those things. “I do not – I don’t have a voice kink!” 

“Mm,” he hummed lowly, and when he spoke again it was an octave lower, for fuck’s sake. “I kinda think you do. Kinda think you also have a kink for being talked through touching yourself and how pretty you sound when you get all breathless and whimpery for me.”

As if to prove his point, you gasped and had to fight the urge to squirm. “That is cheating, sir. You can’t use things you learned as S.Coups against me.”

Seungcheol’s laugh was rough. “Says the woman who just called me ‘sir.’”

Pressing your lips together, biting at the lower, heat pooled in your abdomen. “Oh? Is that what does it for you?” you asked. It was meant to be a taunt and probably could have been, if not for the way air ate up the words, leaving them softer, breathy. 

“You do it for me, highness.”

His easy confession had your heart squeezing in your chest. “Cheol.”

“Yeah?”

“You do it for me, too. Even if you’re still a pain in the ass.” 

You could hear his smile on the other end of the line. “I do it for you in part because I’m a pain in the ass.”

“Seungcheol.”

“Yes, dear?”

“Are you going to talk me through touching myself or continue trying to drive me up the wall?” 

“Fuck,” he hissed, just barely audible enough for your ears. “That’s what you want – for me to get you off like this?”

God, you wanted so many things. More than anything, you wanted him to be there with you right then, wrapped around you, low whispers in your ear while he touched and didn’t just tell you how to. Wanted to fall asleep in his arms again. Whipped. You were so whipped. Glancing at the clock, you let out a soft whine when you saw how late it was. 

Phone sex, it was. Good thing your, uh, whatever Seungcheol was to you, was an expert. 

“Yeah,” you admitted. 

“Say please,” he purred and you found yourself doing exactly that. 

Later, lying in bed while your heart tried to slow itself to a normal rhythm, you forced yourself to ask, “Cheol, are you– are you still–”

A curious, encouraging hum came across the line. “Am I what, princess?”

Despite the fact that your heart was suddenly racing for more reasons that recent orgasms and a big part of you wanted to avoid the subject for fear of no good coming from it, you took a deep breath and made yourself ask the question that had been niggling at the back of your mind since you’d been in bed with him the first time. No, that wasn’t right. Since you’d been on that private stream and he’d called you out for being possessive. 

“Are you still doing, um, streams?”

It was quiet on the other end of the line for several moments and every bit of you that had been relaxed was tense, on-edge. You just had to ask, didn’t you? Of course he was. It was his job! Well, one of them. He had a full-time, daytime job, but that didn’t mean – just because he was sleeping with you and said he had feelings for you, didn’t mean he had or was going to stop. Just because you had feelings for him didn’t mean he was going to rearrange his life.

The two of you were just…sleeping together, after all.

“No,” he finally said after clearing his throat. “I’m not.”

Oh.

Oh.

“You’re not?” 

He was quiet when he answered, but there was no hesitation in his tone. “I’m not. If I’m being honest, it hasn’t been as…fun, I guess? in a while. The stream with you being the exception, obviously. That, I enjoyed immensely.”

“I’d hope so, otherwise I’d have some questions about what just happened,” you said drolly.

A soft laugh came in reply. “I enjoyed this, too. I always enjoy you. And I’m not comfortable sharing myself the way streaming requires when I’m with you. Unless you wanna play pretend; in which case, I’m happy to bring out S.Coups and play the camboy for you. Just say the word.”

Your lips curled up at the corners and you tucked yourself more securely under the covers, slipped an arm under your pillow, as you let relief wash over you. “I’m pretty partial to Cheol, but S.Coups has his charms, so I’ll keep that in mind for someday, maybe.”

“Mm, good because I’m pretty partial to you, too. You sound sleepy. Gonna pass out on me?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay, princess. Sleep well, hm?”

“You, too, Cheol.”

—-------------------------------

The following week was busy. You stayed late at work every day as several projects were coming due and your boss figured the surprise project that the company was given at the last minute was perfect for you. (It was, but still.) Too tired to do anything once you got home except eat whatever junk you could find in your cabinets and fridge, shower, then crawl into your bed, your contact with Seungcheol was limited to texting and sporadic voice notes during the days, and brief, half-asleep conversations over the phone once you did said crawling into bed. 

Despite the fact that you were exhausted, it was nice to hear his voice at the end of the day. His voice that was all full of concern for you and consternation at your boss, followed by reassurances that the week would be over soon and he would take care of you then. Actually, he tried to talk you into letting him come over to cook for you on Thursday. You agreed until you realized you were stuck at work until nine o’clock and wanted to cry with frustration but instead spent far too long drafting a text to cancel at the last minute, apologizing for bailing and promising to make it up to him. On top of being tired, you felt like a flake, which only made you feel worse. 

When the delivery guy dropped by your workplace with dinner, courtesy of Seungcheol, you were pretty sure you were in love. With Cheol, not the delivery driver. 

Obviously.

After leaving the office on Friday, you refused to even think about work for the next two days.

—--------------------------

You were early to the restaurant because you were just so ready to do something that wasn’t work or zombie around your apartment. Deciding to wait at the bar and get a drink rather than grab a table and sit there alone (because it was different, sitting at the bar and chatting with the bartender or munching on bar snacks versus sitting alone at a table – you didn’t make the rules; it just was), you found a free stool and slid up onto it. 

Catching sight of you, the bartender made his way over to you and set a napkin down on the countertop in front of you. “What can I get for you?”

“Can you make a peach daiquiri?” you asked hopefully. The only time you’d ever had a peach daiquiri was that night in the club when Seungcheol ordered one for you, but you had only managed to take one sip. A sip that you’d barely tasted in the midst of your panic, of course, but better late than never.

“Yeah, of course,” he said with a nod. “Give me a sec.”

Someone slid onto the stool next to you, drawing your gaze from where it had been focused on the bartender making your drink. The man was undeniably handsome and smiled at you when your eyes met his. He was also vaguely familiar, but you couldn’t quite place his face. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you answered, lips twitching in an answering smile. 

He gestured to the drink the bartender set down in front of you just then. “So, I know you just got your drink, but can I get the next one?”

“You again,” came a drawl from behind you right before you felt a chest press up against your back and strong arms you knew very well sliding around your waist, a chin dropping to rest on your shoulder. “I thought I told you last time that she’s spoken for.”

Your initial startle at finding yourself draped in Seungcheol, for all intents and purposes, faded into confusion and then realization as you looked at the stranger again. “Oh!” Tall, dark, and dreamy. “You’re the guy from that night.” The night Seungcheol had said you’d always be James’ girl and you’d suggested he ask his friend just why the two of you broke up. 

Mister Tall, Dark, and Dreamy looked between you and the man wrapped around you. “You did, but I remember her saying she wasn’t. Figured I would shoot my shot again, but I guess she is now?” The last, he directed at you, eyebrows lifted in question. 

“Uh, yeah. I am. I wasn’t then, but I am now.” You were babbling. Christ, this was somehow embarrassing and deeply satisfying. You squirmed, but Seungcheol only gave your waist a squeeze and shot the man a cocky smile. 

The other man let out a soft laugh and held his arms up in front of him as he slid off the stool. He gestured at the bartender, motioning toward the other end of the bar, and received a nod. “Message received. I’ll leave you two to it then.”

“Oh my God,” you said once the mystery man walked away, turning your head as best you could to look at Seungcheol, exasperated and endeared. “You’re so – What are you doing?”

He let his hands fall away only to shift to your side and slide one of those arms around your waist, leaning his head in toward yours and locking his gaze on yours as he spoke. “Looking out for my girl, obviously.” 

“Publicly claiming your girl, you mean?”

Seungcheol’s grin was lupine. “Same thing.”

“You guys are seriously so cute. Seriously. I’d be jealous if I weren’t so happy for you both.”

“It’s about time!”

Both you and Seungcheol looked toward the voices only to find Lily and Jeonghan standing there. Lily looked giddy and Jeonghan looked amused. 

“No, but really. I think they’re gonna kick us out if you don’t give your girlfriend some personal space, Cheol,” Jeonghan said, sticking his arm out and slipping it between you and Seungcheol, who cursed and arched an eyebrow at his friend. 

“If they kick me out for holding my girlfriend, then we’ll just have to go someplace else, won’t we? I’ve got months of PDA to make up for,” Seungcheol countered and you would kiss him if you weren’t in public and didn’t actually want to test the place’s PDA tolerance. 

Jeonghan laughed and removed his arm, moving to take Lily’s hand instead. “Fine, fine. But can we get a table already? I’m starving.”

“So. Cute,” Lily cooed.

“Turnabout is fair play, best friend of mine,” you reminded her. 

She pressed her lips together and made a motion as if to zip them, which earned a laugh from you and Seungcheol, and a kiss on the cheek from Jeonghan. 

Seungcheol drew back, sliding his hand into yours, lacing your fingers together and looking at you expectantly as your friends headed toward an empty table. “C’mon, princess. I figure we’ve gotta stick around for like an hour, maybe two, then I can take you home and help you…relax. I know you’ve had a long week.”

And just like that you melted. Well, melted and the little spark of desire that always seemed to be burning in the background when it came to Seungcheol lit. “What are you gonna do if I let you take me home and then just demand cuddles and to go to sleep?”

His smile was soft, twin dimples at either side of his mouth. “Then I will give you cuddles and we’ll go to sleep.” He pulled your body into his with his hand in yours, voice a low rumble against your ear. “But I really don’t think that’s gonna happen.”

“No?” you breathed. 

You could feel his grin as he pressed a kiss to the skin beneath your ear. “I mean, I think it’s gonna happen eventually. I’m just gonna have you naked and writhing, clinging to me, and begging me to come – begging for me to come inside you again – before the cuddling and sleeping.”

Jesus Christ.

“You’re a menace.”

“You love it.”

“God help me, I really do.”

Seungcheol drew back, hand cradling your chin, and sought out your eyes. His dark and warm and not even pretending to hide the affection there. “I love you, princess.”

All the air left you in a whoosh. “I…”

He gave you that dimpled smile again, squeezing your hand, and taking a step backwards, only pausing because your grip on him was tight and you stopped him from moving further. Attentive, curious gaze searched your face as he let himself be held back and waited for you. 

“I love you, too. I just – I wanted to say that. Back. I wanted you to know.”

You watched his chest rise sharply and the next thing you knew, you were back in his arms, his lips brushing against your temple. Vaguely, you heard your friends cheering from across the room, but your focus – every real bit of awareness you had was on the man holding you. “You realize this means you really are my girl from here on out, right? Because you just said you love me and I’m keeping you.”

Heart fluttering, you let your arms go around his torso and rested your palms against his shoulder blades. “I mean, I did sort of figure that when you chased away the random guy earlier. And it really started to get clear when called me your girlfriend earlier,” you teased and he chuckled. 

“Keep it up, brat. See what happens when we get home.”

“Is that supposed to encourage me or discourage me?”

“Princess.”

“Yes, boyfriend?”

“You think calling me your boyfriend is going to get you out of trouble?”

“Yeah?”

“...Goddamn it. You’re right,” he grumbled, but you could see the effort it cost him not to smile. You saw the moment he gave up and let the urge overtake him. Let yourself take it in and receive the love written in his gaze as he let out a soft laugh. “So fucking soft for you, I swear.”

He was, but you were just as soft for him. You pressed a kiss to his cheekbone and turned, walking towards the table your friends sat at, his hand held tightly in yours. As he pulled out your chair and took a seat in the chair next to you, his arm over the back of yours, you looked at him, looked at your friends, and for a moment you were thunderstruck. There was no way you could have predicted this – predicted the two of you – but it felt right. So right. 

Seungcheol calling your name brought you out of your head and you turned your attention to him. “Hm?”

“You okay?” 

“That’s why I don’t drive,” Hansol said. “Yes,” you agreed, grinning and nudging your shoulder against his. “Totally not because you can’t pass the test.”

“That too.”

“That too.”

You looked back out to the street, wetting your lips as the wind ate away at them. Autumn and winter were your favorite seasons; you loved cardigans and sweaters and all the other fashion trends that came with cold weather. You didn’t, however, have any love for how the cold air would dry out your lips and skin. 

You dug out your chapstick -- vanilla flavored -- and applied it. You paused on the sidewalk, putting the chapstick away. “You’re lucky you have me. You can’t survive on Uber for the rest of your life.”

“I’ll just make it so you can’t ever move out and have to be my roommate forever.” Hansol shrugged out of his jacket. He had layered -- like you, Hansol was a fan of cold weather because of the fashion opportunities it offered. More often than not you would see him layering jackets and hoodies or blazers and hoodies. He had long abandoned the tye-dye hoodie he had worn religiously when the two of you first became roommates but you still had a soft spot for it. It reminded you of the first few months of your relationship, when Hansol was quiet and kept his thoughts to himself. 

“Yeah?” “Yeah.” He held out the jacket to you, sliding his phone out of his other pocket. Hansol didn’t look at you. “Take it.”

You blinked. “Sol, it’s your jacket. I should’ve known better than going out in a t-shirt and this is my punishment.”

Hansol lifted his eyebrow and pressed his lips together. “Dramatic.” He shook the jacket at you, unmoving even as a family pushed past the two of you. 

Sighing for the theatrics of it, you reached out and quickly pulled the jacket on. It was warm from his body heat and smelled like him. When the two of you first became roommates Hansol had worn exclusively Axe body spray; he still refused any of the fancier stuff that his friend Seungcheol wore, but would tag along with you into Bath and Body Works and grab the body mists that caught your eye. 

(Your eye. Hansol would stay at your side and let you roam around the store, picking out scents and sniffing them. The first few times you did that he didn’t even make any move to smell them himself, just dropping them in the basket after you complimented the fragrance. You began protesting whenever he did this, so he would put on a show of smelling the fragrance before putting it in the basket. 

You chose not to analyze this too much.)

Hansol stepped into your space once you shrugged the jacket on, his hands going to the zipper. You tilted your chin up and out of the way as he zipped it, ignoring how your heart fluttered at how close he was. You could see every single one of his dark lashes; the soft curve of his eyes. Content, you mapped out his face and let your heart run rampant in your chest, ignoring the sirens going off in your head in favor of just looking at Hansol. 

You knew him. You knew how he sniffed his socks before throwing them at the foot of the hamper; knew how he preferred using three-in-one shampoo, conditioner and body soap; knew his bedsheets and blankets were only washed regularly because you had set up a calendar of chores. You knew how he played his music too loudly and sang off-key and without care; but you also knew how sweet he could sound when he sang. You knew how large and warm his hands were; how it felt to fit your body against his and sway as you waited for your meals to cook; how it felt to belt out music at two in the morning with him, heart beating just as loudly as the music played. 

You knew all of this about Hansol and still your heart decided to pack up and make its home in his hands. (But what a good place for it to be.)

Hansol glanced up as he fixed the collar, eyes catching yours. Immediately he contorted his face, sucking his lip in underneath his teeth and angling his head so he peered at you from underneath his brow. 

You laughed, an obnoxiously loud thing, and pushed him away. “You fucking weirdo,” you giggled, stuffing your hands into the pocket of his jacket. 

Hansol laughed along with you, joining you as you began walking again. He moved closer, and you startled when you felt his hand slip in with yours in the jacket pocket. His fingers brushed against yours for a second, the cold of them being out in the autumn air shocking you momentarily. Hansol’s fingers then clasped yours, and your hands joined together as naturally as the sun rose in the morning and set in the evening. 

“What’s left for us to do, Mr. Chwe?”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The warmth of your apartment seeped into your bones, heating you up from the outside and making its way in. You moaned, kicking off your shoes and collapsing onto the sofa. You didn’t move out of Hansol’s jacket, instead burrowing into it further and wrapping it around you. 

“I’m going to become one with the couch,” you mumbled, your words muffled by the sofa. 

There was the sound of keys hitting the counter and shoes being kicked off and hitting the wall. You half-listened to Hansol as he moved about, nearing you. Until he was at the couch, dropping on top of you and molding his body into yours. 

You groaned at the sudden addition of his weight. Hansol wiggled against you until he settled, his socked feet nudging yours and hands making their way into the space between your chest and the couch. 

“Thank God for boobs,” he murmured, fingers wiggling against you. “So warm.”

“Fucking weirdo,” you returned, though you didn’t move. He burrowed his face into your hair. 

“You smell good.” He took a deep breath. You were glad you were facing the couch; you didn’t know how you would explain your smile to him if Hansol saw. “Like a grandma.”

“What.”

He didn’t elaborate. Instead Hansol’s breathing evened out, fingers and feet shifting. You were content like this. Something pulled at your mind, warmth leaking into it and covering it in fog. 

It means something, you thought. At the beginning of your crush on Hansol you were unable to relax around him at all, too nervous to laugh too hard around him in case you snorted (which happened far too often around him), too anxious to touch him. Now his very touch relaxed you; you searched for it in a crowd, and it was as easy and natural as breathing.

It meant something, you knew. It meant something that you were now so comfortable around Hansol that you were able to show every side of you and that you no longer felt the need to hide your undesirable parts. 

Your phone chimed somewhere in the room. You didn’t move to get it, and Hansol didn’t move to release you. The two of you continued to lay there, his body on yours. If possible he moved even closer against you, and you faintly wondered if he was trying to combine your bodies into one. 

Your phone chimed twice more in quick succession. Groaning, you shifted. “Solie. Need up.”

“You don’t,” he mumbled, though ultimately moving off of you. The both of you yawned as you stumbled off of the couch and towards your purse. “Who is it?”

You hummed, eyes reading over the texts. “Just Seungkwan raging about something Soonyoung did. Apparently Jihoon kicked him out of the apartment for the night so Soonyoung is staying with Kwannie and Seokmin.”

“Amazing.”

You stuffed your phone into the pocket of the jacket, turning back to your crush-roommate. He was slouched against the couch, bangs nearly obscuring his eyes. Hansol licked his lips. 

Sighing, you dug into your purse and brought out your chapstick. You moved back to the couch, handing it to Hansol as you plopped next to him. “I feel like in a month we’re going to be testifying on whether we think Seungkwan is capable of murdering Soonyoung and Seokmin.”

Hansol shrugged. “I think Seungkwan secretly loves the chaos Soonyoung and Seokmin bring. He pretends he doesn’t, but he does.”

You watched, half amazed and half bewildered, as Hansol applied the chapstick. He wrapped his entire hand around the wand, like you would a microphone. He then pressed the entire surface of the chapstick flat against his mouth, turning his head to apply it.

“What the fuck are you doing.”

He paused. “Uh. Chapstick.”

“No you’re not,” you snatched the chapstick out of his hand. “If you’re going to misapply chapstick you can use your own. Bert’s Bees deserves better than this.”

Hansol threw you a look, his brows somehow both furrowed and raised. “Really.”

“Yes really.” You demonstrated how chapstick was supposed to be applied, your hand wrapped around the end and using only the sides of the surface, moving your hand instead of your head. “You don’t need to press so hard when applying it either. It’s not like you’re trying to use it all at once.”

Hansol was watching with rapt attention. His eyes were narrowed in on your mouth and fingers, watching as you ran the chapstick over your lips. He licked his lips. 

“Your turn,” you said, handing off the chapstick again. 

He glanced down at the yellow capsule before looking back at you. Hansol took it and brought it up to his mouth, applying it the same exact way he did before. 

“You absolute monster!” You shrieked, moving to hover over him and wrestle the chapstick from his grasp. He laughed, a quick thing that always left you wishing for more. “If you’re not going to do it right, I’ll do it for you.”

You awkwardly angled yourself over him, one arm going to rest on the couch behind him and the other moving to his face. You pressed the tip of the chapstick against his lips right as one of his hands settled against your waist, startling you into dabbing his chin instead of his mouth. 

He laughed again and you felt heat rush to your cheeks. Hansol’s other hand went to the other side of your waist and he guided you to instead straddle his thighs, your knees digging into the couch on either side of him. He coaxed you to sit your entire weight on him, one of his hands staying on your waist while the other traveled to the small of your back. 

“There,” he said. “Perfect.”

Suddenly you were hyper aware of the world around you. You were all too aware of how close his face was to yours, how his breath hit your face and how close his hand was to your ass. How both his hands felt against you, how he seemed wrapped all around you. 

This was ridiculous. You were sitting in your roommate-crush’s lap, getting ready to apply chapstick to his lips as if he was a toddler. 

If Seungkwan saw this he would have a meltdown. Forget whatever Soonyoung and Seokmin were doing; this was enough to launch Seungkwan into a week-long rant about your feelings and pining and how disgusting the two of you were.

(You didn’t want to think about what Jeonghan would say.)

(You could hear Junhui cheering from across the city while Minghao rolled his eyes.)

You moved your arms to embrace Hansol fully. One arm wrapped around his shoulders and rested on his jaw, holding his face still. You could feel little pricks of his facial hair against your hand. With your other hand you raised the chapstick to his lips, the tip of your pinkie pressing against his cheek to steady your own hand. 

“Pay attention,” you murmured. Speaking any louder would surely break whatever spell had settled over the two of you. 

“I am,” he said. “Always.”

Slowly, gently, you applied the chapstick to his mouth. Swiping it back and forth, you watched as it brushed against the flesh of his lips. It was red. His mouth was so red and warm, and you could feel every breath he took against your fingers. 

Quickly, far too swiftly for you to fully realize what you were doing, your lips descended and pressed against his. Just as briskly you pulled away, loudly gasping at your audacity. 

“What the fuck,” you said. What the fuck what the fuck. “I’m sorry --”

“I’m not,” he said, and then his mouth was on yours again. 

His hands moved against you, pulling you flat against him. One of his hands moved to sink into your hair, keeping your head close. Your own hands moved to either side of his face, your mouth dropping open in shock. 

This wasn't what you had imagined for your first shared kiss. It was supposed to be soft and sweet, shy and gently bridging the gap between friends and lovers. 

This was hot and seemed to light your blood and heart aflame. He was devouring you, mouth quick and biting. Hansol was kissing you as if this was all he had thought of for the years you’ve known each other. As if he was intent on eating you whole. 

Then his tongue entered your mouth and pressed against your teeth and you let out the highest moan you’ve ever heard let alone uttered. 

Chuckling against your mouth, Hansol pulled away just enough for your lips to brush. You followed against your will, his mouth a magnet, eager to reconnect. He obliged for a moment, teeth biting your lower lip before molding his mouth against it. 

“Hansol,” you sighed, “Hansol, Hansol, Hansol.”

He breathed your name back, like it was a secret confession. Maybe it was. 

Finally Hansol separated from you fully. When you went to follow he moved his hand to grip your jaw, holding you still. His other hand had slid down to where your shirt had ridden up, fingers swiping against your bare skin. “Okay. So what --”

“I love you,” you whispered. “I love you,” you repeated, louder. “I love you, Hansol. I’m sorry, I should’ve done this better but -- I love you.”

He blinked once. Then twice. And then his face broke into a wide smile. Fuck. It was the sun after rain; rain after drought. It was bright and devastating and you wouldn’t mind going blind if it meant going blind from staring at the brightness of Hansol’s smile.