honeybee !

you loved sungchan in a way you’d never felt before. he wasn’t just someone you liked, or someone you wanted—he was someone you wanted to give your whole self to, piece by piece, no matter how long it took. but lately it felt like you were pressing yourself up against a wall he kept quietly building, higher and higher, every time he turned away from you.

you thought maybe tonight would finally change that. it was his birthday, and you’d spent the whole day wrapped up in him—waking up early just to surprise him with coffee and his favorite pastries, dragging him around the city to all the little places that reminded you of him.

he was all smiles and laughter, brushing your knuckles with his whenever your hands got too close on the table, leaning into your shoulder when you teased him for losing a round at the claw machine. you caught him glancing at you when he thought you weren’t looking, and when you kissed his cheek between subway stops, his ears turned pink. for the first time in weeks, you felt a glimmer of hope that maybe you weren’t losing him after all.

dinner was the last stop—warm light, good food, the quiet way he kept staring at you across the table like he couldn’t believe you were real. and as you walked back together, his arm loose around your shoulders, you kept replaying the thought in your head: tonight. tonight, maybe things would finally be different.

back in the room, he sat on the edge of the bed, long legs sprawled out, his hair falling slightly into his eyes as he glanced at you with that boyish half-smile.

“that’s it? birthday’s over?” he teased.

you shook your head, heart pounding. “i have one last surprise for you,” you murmured, slipping into the bathroom before he could question you further.

your hands trembled a little as you changed. the fabric was delicate, soft against your skin, cut just high enough that when you shifted, you wondered if he’d even be able to tell if you wore anything underneath. the neckline dipped to show the swell of your chest, the lace framing you in a way that felt both daring and achingly romantic. when you glanced at yourself in the mirror, your cheeks were already flushed. you hoped he’d see what you wanted him to see: that you belonged to him, completely.

you opened the door slowly, every step measured, the hem swishing around the tops of your thighs as you walked toward him.

sungchan’s breath hitched audibly.

his eyes widened, locked on you, tracing over every inch of skin revealed to him. they lingered at the line of your legs, the dangerous cut of the fabric, and you knew he was wondering what was—or wasn’t—beneath it. they dragged up to your chest, the way the dress framed you, the swell of your breasts practically offered to his hands.

“yn…” his voice was hoarse, almost reverent.

you felt the burn of your blush deepen under his gaze, your wide eyes searching his for some sign, some confirmation that he wanted you as much as you wanted him.

for a moment, his hand lifted, fingers brushing through the air until they cupped your chest gently, just the faintest touch that made your heart race. hope surged in your veins—you thought maybe he was finally letting himself give in.

but then his fingers slipped away, hand falling as though your skin had scalded him. his eyes squeezed shut, brows furrowing, a quiet sigh leaving his lips.

“yn…” and that was when something inside you began to unravel.

his hand falling away felt heavier than a thousand words. heavier than silence, heavier than rejection. he closed his eyes, and it was like he couldn’t even bear to look at you.

your chest tightened painfully, the fragile hope you’d been cradling all day slipping through your fingers. you turned, body stiff, facing the wall so he couldn’t see your face. your shoulders trembled, and before you could stop yourself, tears were spilling freely down your cheeks.

the sound of your muffled sobs made him jolt.

“yn?” sungchan’s voice cracked, sharp with panic. the mattress dipped as he stood quickly, his footsteps hesitant as though he was afraid to get too close.

you felt his hand land carefully on your shoulder, warm but unsure.

it only made the tears fall harder.

he tried again, his voice softer, pleading this time. “hey… look at me. please.”

but you couldn’t. you couldn’t stand the thought of facing him when you were dressed like this, trembling with humiliation.

he guided you gently, carefully, turning you back toward him, his big hands firm yet trembling at the same time. the mattress creaked under you as he eased you to sit, but every part of you resisted, your body tense beneath his touch.

"that's the first time you've touched me in weeks, you know," you choked out, your throat tight. his heart broke, falling to his knees in front of you to match your height a little better.

"this bed..." you whispered. "we share this bed every night, and i wait for you to hold me. but it never happens. i don't mind being the one to hold you, channie, but every time my arms wrap around you it's to make sure that you're still here with me."

his lips parted, but no words came. your shoulders shook harder. "you don’t like me anymore, do you, sungchan? is it over?"

he immediately dropped to his knees in front of you, desperate to close the distance, his height folding in on itself so he could be small enough, close enough, to catch your tears.

“no,” he rasped, shaking his head, eyes blown wide. “no, yn—”

but you pressed on, the ache too heavy, your words spilling out with every sob.

“you think i haven’t noticed? you never want to go past kissing with me, and even then, i’m always the one who has to kiss you first. it feels like i’m the only one who wants this. i feel lonelier now than when i was by myself.”

his breath stuttered, his eyes shimmering like he was about to fall apart right there at your knees.

“there’s someone else, isn’t there?” the question slipped out, a whisper, broken and sharp.

his head shook instantly, violently, his eyes filling until a tear finally slid down his cheek. his lips trembled, like the thought alone gutted him.

but you couldn’t stop. you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

“i saw you looking at this dress at the store the other week, so i bought it,” your voice wavered, each word tasting like salt. “but i guess you were wanting to see someone else wearing it. i’ll just… i’ll just return it—”

his lips crashed into yours with a sudden, desperate force, swallowing the words whole, his kiss frantic and trembling. his hands framed your face like you were something he couldn’t bear to lose, like if he didn’t hold you here, right now, you’d disappear.

your breath caught, shocked, before your hands instinctively clutched at his shirt, dragging him closer. the kiss was messy, wet with tears—his and yours both—but there was no mistaking the truth in it.

when he finally pulled back, breath ragged, his forehead pressed to yours.

“don’t you ever say that again,” he whispered, voice wrecked. “there’s no one else. there could never be anyone else. it’s always been you.”

your chest heaved, the ache still raw, your voice a whisper. “then why? why do you keep pulling away from me?”

his eyes squeezed shut again, another tear escaping, his thumb brushing your cheek as he opened them slowly.

“because i’m scared,” he admitted, the words tumbling out, fragile and fierce all at once. “i’m so scared of messing this up. you don’t understand how much you mean to me, yn. i don’t ever want you to think i only want you for your body. i don’t ever want you to doubt how much i love you. i’ve been holding back because i want to respect you, because i want to do this right. i’ve been so focused on restraining myself that i didn’t realize i was hurting you instead.”

his voice cracked at the last word, and his tears wet your skin where his forehead leaned into yours.

“i thought you didn’t want me anymore,” you whispered, broken and bare.

he shook his head, fierce, eyes burning into yours. “god, no. i want you. i love you. more than anything. i was just… too busy protecting something that didn’t need protecting to see i was breaking your heart.”

his lips found yours again, slower this time, tender and reverent, his tears mixing with yours.

and when he pulled back, he took your hand, pressing it hard against his chest. his heart thundered beneath your palm, steady and alive.

“do you feel that?” he asked softly, voice rough. “it only beats like this for you.”

your throat tightened, your pulse wild beneath your skin as you felt the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm. his words echoed inside you, unraveling the heavy knot of doubt that had been choking you for weeks.

he kissed you again—slower this time, deliberate, his lips lingering as though he wanted to prove to you with every press that you belonged to him and he belonged to you. his hands trembled at first, framing your face, brushing along your jaw, before sliding down carefully to cradle your waist.

“i love you,” he whispered into your mouth, like the words were the only thing keeping him alive.

you nodded, tears slipping down your cheeks, your hands clutching at his shirt, tugging until he shifted closer, his knees pressing against the edge of the bed between your thighs. you felt the warmth of him seeping into you, felt the way his body was drawn taut with restraint and longing.

when you kissed him again, you poured everything into it—all your fear, your hurt, your desperate love. your lips moved against his until he groaned softly, the sound muffled, raw.

his hand hesitated at the hem of your nightdress, fingers grazing the fabric. he pulled back slightly, breath ragged, eyes wide and searching yours for permission.

“are you sure?” his voice was hoarse, low. “tell me you want this. tell me i’m not pushing you.”

your chest ached at the way he looked at you, like you were breakable and holy all at once.

“i want you,” you whispered, firm even through the tremor in your voice. “i’ve only ever wanted you, sungchan.”

his lips parted, a shaky exhale leaving him, and then his mouth was on yours again, deeper this time, his tongue brushing yours with slow, reverent strokes.

his hands slid down, lifting the fabric of your nightdress just enough for his palms to curve around your thighs. the dress pooled against your hips as his fingers traced the bare skin there, and he let out a shaky, audible breath when he realized you weren’t wearing anything beneath.

“fuck,” he whispered, breaking the kiss, his forehead pressed to yours. his cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark with something you’d never seen fully in him before—a hunger barely tethered by love.

you gasped softly when his hand slid higher, brushing over the curve of your hip, his thumb stroking against your skin as if memorizing the shape of you.

“so beautiful,” he murmured, almost to himself, his gaze falling down to your chest again. the lace framed you perfectly, the swell of your breasts rising and falling with each shallow breath. he reached up slowly, reverently, cupping you through the fabric, his thumb brushing softly over your hardened peak.

you whined into his mouth, your back arching instinctively, and his hand flexed, holding you more firmly.

“yn,” he groaned, your name breaking apart in his throat, his lips trailing down your jaw, pressing hot kisses against your neck.

your hands slipped under his shirt, palms gliding over his stomach, the heat of his skin making you ache for more.

he shuddered under your touch, pulling back just long enough to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it aside carelessly. his chest rose and fell quickly, the lines of his muscles shifting under your gaze.

you reached out, fingertips tracing over the dip of his collarbone, down the firm plane of his chest, and he hissed softly, catching your wrist before you could slip lower.

his hand shook as he held yours against his skin. “if i start… i won’t want to stop,” he admitted, eyes searching yours, desperate and pleading.

“then don’t stop,” you whispered.

for a moment, the air between you crackled, thick with everything unsaid. then he surged forward, kissing you again, hungrier this time, his hands sliding under your thighs and lifting you effortlessly.

you gasped into his mouth as he laid you back against the sheets, his body covering yours, his weight both grounding and electrifying.

his kisses trailed down your throat, along your collarbone, before pausing at the neckline of your nightdress. he glanced up, his lips swollen, eyes asking once more.

you nodded, chest heaving. “please.”

he carefully slid the straps down your shoulders, the fabric falling to reveal your breasts to him fully. his breath hitched, his eyes darkening as he took you in.

“god, yn…” his voice cracked. “you’re perfect.”

he leaned down, lips wrapping around your nipple, tongue flicking gently as his hand caressed the other. the sensation shot through you, and you moaned, your fingers tangling in his hair.

he groaned at the sound, his hand squeezing your breast before slipping lower, down your stomach, past the hem of your nightdress until his fingers brushed between your thighs.

you trembled, legs parting instinctively for him, and he exhaled sharply when he felt how wet you were already.

“all for me?” he whispered against your skin, his fingers teasing lightly at your entrance.

“always for you,” you gasped, arching into his touch.

his mouth returned to yours, swallowing your whimpers as his fingers slid inside, slow and careful at first, stretching you. his thumb brushed your clit in gentle circles, and you broke the kiss, crying out his name.

“that’s it,” he murmured, his lips pressed to your temple, his voice thick with emotion. “let me take care of you.”

your body arched into his hand, your breath catching on every slow, deliberate stroke of his fingers. the room felt hazy with warmth, the world narrowed down to his mouth, his touch, the way he whispered your name.

but then, through the haze, you remembered.

“sungchan,” you gasped, catching his wrist gently, stilling his hand. his wide eyes flew up to yours instantly, panic flashing in them, but you shook your head quickly. “it’s your birthday. let me take care of you.”

your words made him freeze, his chest heaving as though you’d just pulled the ground out from under him.

“yn…” his voice cracked, rough and trembling. “no. not tonight.”

you frowned, confused, your hand tightening around his. “but—”

he leaned down, pressing his lips softly against yours, cutting off your protest. when he pulled back, his gaze was fierce, unwavering, wet at the corners with unshed tears.

“will you let me take care of you?” he whispered. “please. let me show you how much i love you. let me show you what you mean to me.”

your breath hitched, your heart thudding painfully against your ribs.

“but it’s your birthday,” you said weakly, the protest falling apart in your throat.

“you’re my gift,” he said simply, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “you. being here with me. loving me. that’s everything i could ever want.”

the sincerity in his eyes shattered you.

you nodded, tears brimming again, but this time they weren’t from hurt—they were from the overwhelming weight of his love. “okay,” you whispered. “take care of me.”

relief washed over his features, his lips curving in a trembling smile before he kissed you again, deeper, slower, pouring everything into it.

he slid the nightdress the rest of the way off your body, his hands reverent as they traced the bare skin revealed to him. his gaze roamed over you like he was memorizing every inch, every curve, every breath.

“you’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing over your collarbone, down your chest, over the soft swell of your stomach. “i don’t deserve you, but i’m going to spend the rest of my life proving i do.”

your hands threaded through his hair, your back arching when his mouth trailed lower, lower still, until his breath ghosted over the most sensitive part of you.

“channie—” your voice broke, your thighs trembling.

he looked up at you, his lips glistening, eyes burning with devotion. “trust me,” he whispered. “let me love you.”

and then his mouth was on you, soft and warm, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes that had you gasping his name. his hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he worshipped you with a desperation that bordered on holy.

your fingers tugged at his hair, your hips lifting against his mouth as waves of pleasure rolled through you. he groaned into you, the sound vibrating against your skin, making you shudder.

“sungchan, i—” your warning came out broken, strangled.

he only pressed closer, his tongue and lips relentless, his eyes locked on yours even as you fell apart.

the climax ripped through you, sudden and overwhelming, your body trembling as you cried out his name. he held you through it, his hands firm and steady, his mouth refusing to leave you until your whimpers turned to gasps, until you were tugging weakly at his hair.

he finally lifted his head, his lips swollen, his chin glistening, his eyes blown wide and tender all at once. he pressed a kiss to the inside of your thigh, then another higher up, before crawling back over you, settling his weight carefully so you felt caged and protected at once.

“you see?” he whispered, brushing your damp hair back from your forehead. “you’re everything. you’re all i want. i’ll spend every day proving it if i have to.”

you cupped his face, kissing him deeply, your lips moving against his with urgency, with gratitude, with every ounce of love you’d been aching to give. his body pressed against yours, warm and solid, his weight grounding you while his kiss made you feel like you were floating.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead resting on yours, you could feel his ragged breath on your lips.

“yn…” his voice trembled, breaking on your name. “can i—do you want—” he cut himself off, closing his eyes like the words were too heavy.

your hand slid down his chest, feeling the way his heart thundered beneath your palm. you nodded, voice soft but certain. “i want you, sungchan. i want you to make love to me.”

his eyes opened, wide and shimmering, and for a moment he looked almost disbelieving, like he couldn’t comprehend that this was real. then he kissed you again, softer this time, reverent, as though sealing a promise.

his hands moved slowly, trembling as they skimmed down your sides, settling at your hips. his lips trailed down your throat, across your collarbone, back to your breasts where he worshipped you with gentle kisses and teasing flicks of his tongue until you were gasping beneath him.

you tugged at the waistband of his pants, your fingers shaking with need. he hesitated, pulling back slightly, searching your eyes once more.

“are you sure?” his voice was hoarse, almost pleading.

you nodded firmly, pulling at his pants again. “i’m sure. i’ve never been more sure of anything.”

his chest rose and fell sharply, and then he moved, shoving his pants down along with his boxers, his face flushing pink. when he freed himself, you gasped softly, eyes widening at just how big he was. long, thick, heavy in his hand, his tip flushed and glistening.

he noticed your reaction immediately, embarrassment flashing across his face. “i know,” he muttered, voice low, nervous. “i don’t want to hurt you.”

you swallowed hard, your thighs pressing together instinctively, heat pooling low in your stomach just from the sight of him. “you won’t,” you whispered, reaching out to wrap your fingers around him. even with both hands, he felt thick and heavy, hot against your skin. “i want all of you.”

he groaned at your touch, his head falling forward, a broken sound leaving his lips. “fuck… yn…” he gasped, his hand closing around your wrist gently, steadying you. his eyes fluttered open, glazed with heat but still tender. “if you keep doing that, i won’t last.”

you smiled faintly, pulling him closer. “then don’t make me wait.”

he swallowed hard, leaning down to kiss you again, his body sliding over yours. he reached between you, guiding himself slowly, carefully, until the tip pressed against your entrance. already, the blunt head felt impossibly large, stretching you before he’d even pushed in.

“tell me if it hurts,” he whispered against your lips. “i’ll stop. i’ll always stop if you need me to.”

you nodded, clinging to him, bracing yourself—and then he pushed forward.

the stretch was overwhelming, your breath hitching sharply, your nails digging into his shoulders. inch by inch, he filled you, the girth of him forcing your walls to accommodate in a way that bordered on unbearable—yet addictive.

“shhh,” he murmured, kissing your cheek, your temple, anywhere his lips could reach. his voice shook as he tried to soothe you, even though his whole body trembled with restraint. “i’ve got you. just breathe. you’re so tight around me.”

you whimpered softly, adjusting, your body trying to open up to him. he stilled, not daring to move, every muscle taut as he let you take your time.

“you’re… so big,” you whispered shakily, your thighs quivering around his waist.

he groaned at your words, forehead falling to your shoulder, his jaw clenched. “don’t say that,” he muttered, his voice breaking. “i won’t last if you say that. you’re perfect, yn. so perfect for me.”

the sting gave way to fullness, to heat, to pleasure blooming slow and steady inside you.

“move, channie. please,” you begged, pulling him closer.

he groaned softly at your plea, then began to move—slow, shallow thrusts at first, his hips rocking into yours with the gentleness of a man afraid to break the most precious thing he’d ever held. each push made you gasp, your body stretching around his thickness, the sensation toeing the line between too much and not enough.

the more he moved, the more the pleasure built, the friction of his size against your sensitive walls driving you toward something intense, overwhelming. your legs wrapped tighter around his waist, pulling him deeper, desperate for all of him even as the stretch left you dizzy.

“you’re taking me so well,” he groaned, voice strained, sweat beading at his temple. “so fucking good, yn. i don’t deserve you.”

his lips never strayed far from yours, his hands caressing your body as though to remind you that you were his, wholly, completely.

“i love you,” he whispered over and over, the words spilling out between kisses, between gasps. “i love you so much, yn.”

your heart ached with the weight of it, your body trembling beneath him. “i love you too,” you whispered back, tears slipping down your cheeks as you clung to him.

his pace deepened, each thrust filling you to the hilt, the stretch delicious and unbearable all at once. you cried out, your nails scratching down his back, pleasure coiling tight in your stomach.

“that’s it,” he whispered, kissing the tears off your cheeks. “let go for me, love. i’ve got you.”

your climax hit suddenly, a wave crashing through you, your whole body tightening around him, squeezing his length so tightly he groaned, his rhythm faltering.

“yn, i—fuck—” his voice cracked, and with a final, deep thrust that made you see stars, he came undone, spilling into you with a shudder, his arms tightening around you like he never wanted to let go.

the room fell silent except for your mingled breaths, your hearts pounding in tandem. he collapsed against you, careful not to crush you, pressing soft, trembling kisses into your damp skin.

“happy birthday,” you whispered weakly, brushing his hair back from his forehead.

he laughed softly, a sound broken with emotion, kissing you one last time. “best birthday of my life,” he murmured against your lips. “because of you.”

he stayed inside you, still thick and overwhelming, his body pressed to yours as though he couldn’t bear to pull away, whispering how much he loved you until your eyelids grew heavy, his warmth anchoring you to the moment.

and as you drifted, the last thing you felt was his hand in yours, his chest still heaving, his size still stretching you in the most intimate way, reminding you that you were his—and he was yours.