Toil and Trouble

You should immediately move away before he wakes up, but you can’t. You watch him in fascination, the faint flutter of his lashes, his slightly parted lips, and the one rebellious strand of hair falling over his forehead and into his face. That strand annoys you unbelievably, because it’s ruining your view of his perfect face. Carefully, you pull one hand out from under the blanket and slowly reach toward it. You hold your breath when your fingers touch the strand, brushing it away from his face with the utmost caution. Dragon doesn’t move at all. Not even the slightest sign that he might wake up. He keeps breathing peacefully, and that gives you space to keep watching him in fascination.

You’ve carried out your own introspection and discovered that with every passing day, Dragon doesn’t only attract you more and more, but also makes you more and more nervous. At first, you were nervous because of the whole situation you’d found yourself in, because of your brother, but now you’re realizing that Dragon is a much greater reason for your unease.

“Do you still want to claim that I don’t fascinate you?” Dragon murmurs without his expression changing in the slightest. You freeze, unable to move, let alone say anything. He opens his eyes and looks straight at you. You blink several times when you realize how little distance there is between your faces, and quickly move away.

“You don’t fascinate me,” you mumble, but your voice doesn’t sound nearly as certain as you’d like.

“You’ve been staring at me… for a while,” he replies calmly, turning onto his back and stretching as if you weren’t next to him at all. The blanket slips a little lower as he moves, revealing his perfect chest. Actually, everything about him is perfect… how the hell can someone look like this right after waking up?

He props himself up on his elbows and watches you with an amused smirk. “I don’t want to embarrass you, but you’re really not very good at lying.”

“You’re an idiot,” you mutter, feeling not only your cheeks but also your ears turn red, and you decide that you need to leave his bedroom as soon as possible and lock yourself in your own room. When you try to free yourself from under the blanket, you feel Dragon’s hand on your forearm and let out a surprised squeak as you suddenly find yourself on your back again. Dragon towers over you, holding your hands pressed to the mattress on either side of your head.

“What did you say?”

“That… that you’re an idiot,” you say quietly, trying to keep your uneven breathing under control.

“Then why are you still here?” he asks, bringing his face closer to yours. “You could’ve left a long time ago… to the kitchen, to your room… but you’re staying in my bed.”

“Maybe because… because I’m trying to figure out what’s underneath the surface,” you say without looking away, even though it takes quite a lot of effort. Dragon leans down even closer. He doesn’t kiss you, only brushes his lips lightly against yours, and you catch yourself trying to move closer and kiss him, which your current position and his hands on your wrists make impossible.

“What do you think you’ll find underneath my surface?” he asks after a moment.

“I think… I think you’re… lonely,” you breathe after a while, when you realize all your attempts to kiss Dragon are pointless.

“Lonely?” Dragon’s eyebrows draw together, as if he doesn’t understand your words.

“Yeah… I think you’re lonely. It seems to me like you don’t deal with anything except your business. At least that’s what it looks like from who you call, what you do when you’re here…”

“Loneliness is a luxury,” Dragon murmurs after a moment, but the change in his expression makes it somehow clear to you that he doesn’t really believe his own answer. “Ordinary people usually can’t afford it, because they always need something from others…”

“That sounds pretty sad.”

“That’s reality. Feelings and relationships tie a person down unnecessarily. They demand your time, your compromises, your… complete surrender. They make you more vulnerable…”

“That doesn’t change the fact that it’s still sad…” you say, and it feels like you’ve been in this intimate position and conversation for far too long to bear it any longer.

“You always have to have the last word, and you always think you’re the only one who’s right, don’t you?” Dragon smiles, but it isn’t his typical smirk, so you know you may have hit the right spot, the one that could force him to take off his usual mask at least a little.

You hold your breath when he slowly starts to lean down and come closer, his eyes now fixed on your lips. You wait for the moment when your lips will finally meet, for an endlessly long time, or at least it feels that way… But Chairman Meow, whom you didn’t feed last night, very quickly interrupts this fragile moment between you and Dragon with loud meowing.

It isn’t the kind of ordinary meowing with which your brother’s cat would politely remind you of his presence and make it known that he lives here now too. No, it’s persistent, dramatic meowing that announces to the entire penthouse that he has been neglected, betrayed, and probably sentenced to a slow death by starvation, even though a little diet would do him a lot of good.

The sound is so dramatic, so exaggerated, and so terribly timed that for a few seconds, you freeze underneath Dragon’s body and your brain refuses to accept the fact that Chairman Meow has just interrupted this, so far, most fragile moment between you and Dragon.

Dragon looks just as stunned as you while he still holds your wrists pressed against the mattress beside your head. He’s still leaning over you so closely that you can feel the warmth of his breath on your lips. Slowly, he closes his eyes, and his jaw visibly tightens as Chairman Meow continues meowing. The sight almost makes you laugh, even though it annoyed you at first.

“Your bodyguard probably wants his breakfast,” he eventually mutters and finally opens his eyes. For a moment, you don’t know whether to laugh or cry.

“He’s not my bodyguard,” you say quietly, and then realize that maybe it would’ve been better to stay silent than to say something so stupid. Dragon’s body remains above yours, his hands still holding your wrists, and even though Chairman Meow has very insensitively interrupted this moment, you believe he hasn’t managed to destroy it completely…

“He’s very persistent,” Dragon says when another series of grumpy meows echoes through the room. Maybe you’re only naively and desperately imagining it, but you can see something softer in Dragon’s expression, something that wasn’t there yesterday morning. You search in vain for proof that you aren’t confusing his exhaustion with tenderness and a weak moment with trust. The way he said your name last night, your real name, should’ve become something that lasted into the morning. But mornings are always crueler than nights… At night, things, emotions, and feelings can be hidden in the darkness, in quickened breathing, in a nod instead of an answer… But in the morning, everything is sharp, and the light shows you exactly what you’d rather not see… that Dragon is Dragon again.

He finally lets go of your wrists and moves away from you, sitting on the edge of the bed with his back to you. Your skin immediately notices the absence of his touch, even though your wrists are still warm in the places where he held them.

“I’ll go feed him,” you say after a moment, watching his back, and it seems like Dragon has once again hidden behind his solid mask and has no intention of wasting any more words or time on you.

You quickly get out of bed, pick up his shirt from the floor, the one you came here in last night, and put it on before you dare to look at him again. The fabric of the shirt is wrinkled and still soaked with his scent. Your stomach tightens because of it… as if it weren’t enough that you’re in his bedroom and far too tangled in his web.

Chairman Meow is sitting outside his bedroom door, angrily flicking his tail. You grimace at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re not completely innocent in this either,” you hiss as you pass him in the hallway on your way to the kitchen.

The kitchen is flooded with morning light and feels far too peaceful compared to what’s happening inside you. Everything here still feels so sterile, as if no one even lives here. Marble, glass, the view of waking Seoul, fresh expensive coffee… Everything is so luxurious, so quiet, cold, so… Dragon-like.

You pour Chairman some kibble into his bowl, and he throws himself at it with such enthusiasm that it looks like he hasn’t eaten for at least a week. You lean against the counter and watch him for a while, because the simplicity of his life is comforting. When he’s hungry, he eats. When he’s offended, he meows. When he wants attention, he gets in your way… He doesn’t hide anything behind a calm voice, expensive clothes, or a philosophy about how feelings unnecessarily tie a person down and make them vulnerable… Maybe you should learn from him. And Dragon too.

When you return to your room and start picking your clothes up from the floor, you realize something is missing. At first, you aren’t able to say what it is, but then your hand automatically flies to your collarbone and your fingers find only bare skin instead of the thin chain.

“No… No, no,” you breathe quietly and immediately start searching your bed, then your nightstand, your bathroom, every corner of your room. It isn’t an expensive piece of jewelry, not one that would have any real value to anyone else. It’s just a thin silver chain with a small pendant, with a clasp that broke recently, and you never got around to having it repaired. Siwoo gave it to you years ago, back when everything was still okay, when he was still a responsible brother who remembered your birthday, not someone who dragged you into his messes. You can’t lose that necklace. You can’t lose that memory of those carefree times…

You search your room again. Then you head into the living room, lifting every cushion on the couch, crawling around on your knees and looking into every little place where the chain could be. Chairman Meow watches you from the coffee table, and for a moment you have the feeling he might know where the damn necklace is. In the end, there’s only Dragon’s bedroom left.

For a while, you stand in the hallway and stare at the door you came out of this morning. You can hear water from his bathroom, that soft sound of the shower, and you tell yourself you can search his bedroom before he gets out. He won’t even notice you were there again…

You step into his bedroom and search the blankets and pillows to see whether you can find the necklace. When you don’t succeed, you kneel by his bed and lift the edge of the bedspread. Light from the windows falls across the floor in long pale stripes, and you bend lower so you can see properly under the bed. In that unpleasant position, the bathroom door opens, and you freeze.

“Are you looking for something?” Dragon’s voice sounds above you.

You straighten up and get to your feet so quickly that you nearly lose your balance. Dragon is standing a short distance away from you with damp hair and a towel sitting dangerously low around his hips. He’s merciful enough not to comment on the fact that you’re sprawled on the floor, disheveled.

“My necklace,” you mumble, trying to avoid looking at his half-naked body. “I’m looking for my necklace. I can’t find it.”

Dragon walks right past you and heads to the nightstand on his side of the huge bed. He opens the drawer and pulls out the thin silver chain, your chain. He holds it gently in the air at eye level.

“I couldn’t sleep last night and found it in the bed,” he says simply, handing you the necklace. When you take it from him, his fingers lightly brush against yours. It’s only a fraction of a second, but it sends that unwanted shiver through you again, the one you can’t quite put into words.

“You should get it fixed… or buy a new one,” he says once the necklace is safely back in your palm. His sentence sounds so cold, as if he doesn’t realize that some things aren’t just about being replaced with something new when they break. As if he doesn’t expect that the value of something sometimes can’t be expressed with all the money in the world.

“Not everything can just be replaced with a newer version…”

“That’s not what I said, but—”

“But that’s what it sounded like… Thanks,” you interrupt him, and before he can speak again, you leave his bedroom. Only once you’re behind the closed door of your own room do you open your palm and look at your necklace more closely. The clasp is almost completely useless now, and you really will have to get it fixed. You can’t wear it if you don’t want to lose it, so for now, you hide it in your nightstand beside the bed.

The rest of the day passes in strange, suffocating silence. The penthouse becomes a space full of unfinished movements and unspoken questions. You sit on the couch with a book again, but you’re more focused on Dragon anyway, who’s sitting at the kitchen table and working on his laptop.

Even though you don’t want to, you think about Silver. You feel miserable and ridiculous again. You have no right to feel jealous, because you have no claim on Dragon… You have no right to ask who the woman with the silver mask was and why his behavior and posture changed when he saw her. You have no right to wonder whether he ever held her the same way he held you last night, and whether he ever said her name as quietly as he said yours yesterday…

That thought hurts, because maybe you aren’t as special as you thought. Maybe you saw something Dragon had long before you, and maybe you aren’t the first person he allowed to peek beneath his surface, and maybe that’s why his behavior toward you changed so terribly this morning. Maybe he already knew once where things like this lead, because maybe Silver wasn’t just a name from the past, but maybe she was the reason and consequence of why Dragon now talks about feelings as bonds, compromises, vulnerability, and weakness…

The fact that Dragon hasn’t left the penthouse today would normally please you, but not today. Because the afternoon in the penthouse falls apart into awkward situations. When you pass him in the kitchen, he moves out of your way with such precision that it’s as if there’s some physical obstacle between you, as if he’s trying to avoid you as much as possible. When Chairman Meow jumps onto the kitchen counter and knocks an empty glass over with his tail, both of you automatically reach for it at the same time, but stop before your hands can touch… and the glass falls to the floor with a shattering sound. The worst thing about all of this is that it isn’t unpleasant. It’s actually a thousand times worse… Is this person really incapable of feelings, empathy, anything that resembles human behavior?

In the evening, you almost feel relieved when his phone rings and the quiet evening takes a very different turn. At first, you don’t pay much attention, because you’ve learned to filter his “work” calls as background noise, but this time, his expression when he looks at the display is different than usual. It’s nothing obvious, because Dragon isn’t the kind of person who’d let any nervousness or uncertainty show, even though you notice those small, silent changes now. Like the way his pupils narrow, or the line of his jaw tightens…

He picks up his phone and answers without greeting. You remain sitting with the open book in your lap, your fingers gripping the edges of the page, but your eyes are fixed on Dragon. Slowly, he gets up from the table and moves closer to the windows, as if those few steps could offer some kind of privacy. He doesn’t go into his office as usual, but turns his back to you so you can only watch his silhouette against the slowly darkening city.

“Where?” he asks after a while. His voice is quiet and emotionless. “Today?” he continues, and you think you hear a hint of surprise in his voice. “Fine. I’ll send you the address.” And then he ends the call.

For several seconds, nothing happens, and Dragon remains standing by the window with his phone in his hand.

“I have to leave,” he turns to you and finally speaks to you. He doesn’t wait for your reaction and goes into the bedroom for his jacket. He moves with a strange urgency, and you can feel slight tension not only in his voice but also in his movements.

“Where?” You put the book down and finally get up from the couch. Dragon adjusts the sleeve of his jacket and takes his time answering.

“I have to take care of something.”

Dragon takes his car keys and heads toward the elevator. Before stepping inside, he turns back to you. “I won’t be gone long,” he adds, and his words, or rather the tone of his voice, don’t calm you down at all. As soon as the elevator doors close behind him, the penthouse sinks into even more devastating silence than before.

You walk around the penthouse like you’ve lost your mind, because the hours keep passing. They pass so quickly that your initial anger starts turning into something you don’t want to name, into simple, ordinary fear. Around eleven, you stand by the windows and look out over nighttime Seoul. You can’t see the details of the street, only streams of lights and illuminated buildings. You’ve been holding your phone in your hand for a while now, open to his number.

At 11:26 p.m., you call him for the first time, because he’s never come back this late before and the whole thing is starting to feel very suspicious to you. The ringing lasts far too long, until his voicemail finally answers, and you immediately hang up. For a while, you stare at the screen, hoping he might call you back, but he doesn’t…

At 11:58 p.m., you call for the second time, and the scenario is basically exactly the same as your previous attempt. For the first time since Dragon left, that terrifying thought appears in your head. What would happen if Dragon didn’t come back? You don’t just mean today. You mean if he never came back at all. No one knows where you are. No one except him. You’d have no way to get out of here…

After midnight, you sit down on the floor beside the couch so you can see the elevator doors. After a while, Chairman Meow curls up next to you and places one paw on your thigh. It’s definitely just a coincidence, but it calms you down at least a little, and you’re grateful to have him with you. You stroke his back and try to breathe slowly.

At 12:41 a.m., you call for the third time, and even this time, Dragon doesn’t answer your call, even though his phone is still on. “Idiot…” you mutter in frustration, and you’re not entirely sure whether your insult was meant for Dragon or for yourself.

When, shortly after two in the morning, you hear the beep of a card against the reader, you jump up from the floor so suddenly that your head almost spins. Your heart is beating so fast that it feels like it might leap out of your chest at any second. The first thing you do when Dragon steps into the penthouse is check him with your eyes. You don’t see him limping, you don’t see him bleeding, there are no signs of injury on his face either, and his shirt is still perfectly clean and pressed.

“You self-centered, arrogant idiot!” you hiss, walking straight toward him. “This is your I won’t be gone long?! It’s almost three in the morning and I’ve been dying of fear that I’d die here and no one would ever find me, and you can’t even fucking answer one of my calls or send one fucking message?”

Dragon stops and lets you come almost all the way to him. “Fox—”

“No!” you cut him off immediately, because in this moment, you absolutely hate him. You hate him for that calm of his, for his ability not to show any emotion, if he has any, and for acting as if nothing happened at all. “Don’t call me that. Not after you just take off, disappear, and leave me here without anyone even knowing about me!”

Dragon’s gaze slides to the phone in your hand, which you’re gripping so tightly that your knuckles are turning white. You don’t even have to throw out your next accusation, because Dragon starts with his own form of explanation.

“I couldn’t take your calls.”

“You couldn’t… Sure. And that settles it for you, while I was here losing my mind thinking I’d be locked up here forever until you maybe happened to notice that one item was missing from your inventory.”

Dragon’s jaw tightens, but he stays silent and doesn’t react to your words, which pisses you off even more, because this bastard apparently can’t even come up with a reasonable excuse. And something like an apology probably never existed in his vocabulary.

“I was scared…” you say, almost desperately now, because in this moment, you realize just how incredibly happy and grateful you are to see him alive. “But that’s something you probably can’t understand. I forgot that your only concern is going to parties and ruining other people’s lives… how could you possibly know what it means to be afraid?” you hiss with a heavy dose of poison in your voice.

“Stop,” he says quietly and slowly starts moving toward you. You don’t have the strength to step back, because you’re far too paralyzed by his gaze.

“I won’t stop. You have no right—”

You don’t finish your sentence, because Dragon crosses the distance between you in one quick step and kisses you. You feel his palms on your cheeks, hot and firm, and his mouth on yours with such force that it knocks the air out of your lungs. You wanted to say so many more things, but all you can do is place your hands on his chest and start returning his kisses with the same intensity.

You pull him closer to you more sharply than you intended, and Dragon responds with a quiet exhale right against your mouth. That sound is like music from heaven to your ears, and you immediately forget everything that happened, where you are, and who you’re now kissing so desperately and wanting so badly, even though you know it isn’t right and it isn’t a solution…

“I was scared…” you breathe between kisses when Dragon allows you a broken fraction of a second to inhale. Dragon doesn’t respond with words, only lets his hands slide from your face to your neck, to your shoulders, and then down to your hips. You let your phone fall to the floor beside your bare feet, and your hands move to his jacket, which you begin thoughtlessly pulling from his shoulders. Dragon doesn’t resist. On the contrary, he bends lower toward you and his mouth returns to yours as his jacket slips down from his shoulders and falls to the floor beside your phone.

“I was scared you wouldn’t come back…” you say more quietly this time, because saying this confession out loud requires a great amount of courage. The grip of his hands on your hips tightens at your words, and he kisses you again, pushing you back until your back hits the elevator doors. The kisses become more and more desperate and chaotic, and you don’t know whether you’re punishing each other or saving each other…

Your hands find the buttons of his shirt, and you start undoing them one by one, quickly, even though your hands are trembling. “I hate you,” you say more in the hope that it might hide your confession that you were truly afraid for him.

“I know… I’m sorry,” Dragon murmurs when he breaks your kiss and rests his forehead against yours for a moment. Your hands finally find his bare skin beneath his shirt, and he grips your hips tighter. When you try to take his shirt off, Dragon catches both your wrists, stopping you halfway through the movement.

“Not now,” he says and pulls away from you, only one step, but he pulls away… You stand there with your lips swollen from his kisses, and you feel the unpleasant sting of rejection and humiliation the moment the confusion fades. “Not like this…” he adds when he probably notices your confused and desperate expression. Maybe you really are desperate. Actually, you definitely are. And maybe he only pities you, seeing how desperate and naive you are…

Not like this… You don’t know what exactly he means by that, and maybe you don’t even want to know. All possible meanings immediately start forming in your head, each worse than the last. Not like this because he doesn’t want you. Not like this because he got carried away and now regrets it. Not like this because you seemed too easy, too frightened, too willing to give him anything…

Maybe you really are desperate. Actually, you definitely are, and maybe he sees it far too clearly. Maybe he only pities you. Maybe he has just realized how naive and stupid you look, almost trembling under his hands after an entire night of fear.

“I need you to go pack your things right now,” he says without looking away from you. The sentence falls into the space between you so out of place that it takes you a moment to understand it at all. You can still feel his kiss, still feel his hands on your hips and the pressure of his fingers around your wrists. Your body is still stuck in that interrupted movement, in his unbuttoned shirt, in the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers. And suddenly, he’s talking about packing things, as if nothing just happened.

“What?”

It doesn’t make sense. None of what he’s saying makes any sense to you. Dragon bends down for his jacket on the floor, but he doesn’t put it on, only clenches it in his hand.

“Go pack your things,” he repeats. “We leave in an hour.”

For a while, you only stare at him. You hear his words, but your brain refuses to put them together into anything logical. We leave in an hour. Those are not the words that should come after that kiss, after the way he held you as if, for a few seconds, he needed you just as desperately as you needed him…

“In an hour? We’re leaving? It’s three in the morning…”

Your voice sounds more confused than you want it to, as if you’re still trying to find some normal part of this situation to hold on to. Dragon stands in front of you with his wrinkled jacket in his hand, his shirt still unbuttoned more than when he arrived, and yet he seems as if, in his mind, he has already moved somewhere completely different. Toward something urgent, something that passes you by, even though it clearly concerns you…

“I know.”

That answer doesn’t calm you down. Quite the opposite. It’s so calm that it awakens another wave of unease inside you.

“Where are we going and for how long?”

You try to make the question sound steady, but the confusion is still audible in it. You’re still too close to that kiss, too close to that humiliation, and too close to the thought that within one minute, everything you hadn’t even managed to admit you wanted has collapsed.

“To Busan. I don’t know for how long. I need to take care of something there.”

A few minutes ago, you were sitting on the floor, afraid he wouldn’t come back, and now he’s informing you that he’s taking you out of Seoul in an hour.

“Why?”

Dragon looks at you but doesn’t answer right away. That short pause is enough to make your stomach tighten even more. You can see that an answer exists, just not for you. Somewhere inside him, that answer is there. He just doesn’t want to give it to you. Or he can’t.

“I need you not to complicate this with your questions this time and just go pack.”

That sentence hits exactly the place that’s still open after the previous minutes. It carries his usual hardness, his need to decide, close things off, and give orders.

“And I need you to treat me like an adult for once…”

You say it more quietly than you intended. Maybe because you no longer have the strength to yell. Maybe because his kiss and rejection have exhausted you more than the entire wait did. Dragon’s expression changes a little at your words, but he doesn’t say anything else that you could use against him. He only keeps his eyes on you for a second longer than is comfortable, and in that second, you feel everything that can’t fit into any explanation.

“Fox,” he exhales, a little impatiently now. “Go pack your things. We leave in an hour,” he says, and this time he turns and walks toward his bedroom.

You remain standing in place, as if his last sentence has nailed you there. For a little while, you can still hear his footsteps, then the sound of a closet opening and the muffled rustling of fabric. He’s starting to pack. Really. It isn’t a threat, it isn’t another attempt to silence you, it isn’t a sentence spoken in the heat of the moment after an interrupted kiss… he’s really leaving, and he’s taking you with him.

You stare toward his bedroom, but you see nothing. Only the open door, shadows, a strip of light, and movement that you hear more than see. You’re still standing barefoot in the space where he kissed you a moment ago so intensely that, for a few seconds, the entire world stopped existing, and now you’re supposed to go to your room, pull out a bag, and pack your things as if this were a normal night. As if people normally interrupted desperate kisses at three in the morning by announcing that they were leaving the city in an hour.

You don’t have a good feeling about this situation. Something is wrong…

You stand in the middle of the living room of your weekend suite and slowly turn around in place, taking in every detail. Decorative ceiling moldings, a marble fireplace and that view. The late afternoon sun pours in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and stretches across the wooden floor in long warm stripes.

You slowly walk over to the window and stare at the view you had wanted to see your entire life because visiting Paris had always been your dream and Jiyong remembered that perfectly, even though you had probably only mentioned it once years ago shortly after your wedding.

You drink champagne by the window while the sun slowly sets. Its rays are no longer as strong. The rooftops take on that typical amber shade that gradually turns pink and finally, once the sun disappears, shifts into purple and gray. Standing there by the window with a view of this city of lovers, a glass in your hand and your husband’s arm wrapped around your waist, you feel like you’re inside a dream you never want to wake up from.

The Eiffel Tower from your suite view looks like a tiny toy against the darkening sky and when its lights finally come on, both of you hold your breath for a moment.

“This was always my dream…” you say quietly after a while.

“I know. That’s why we’re here now,” Jiyong replies, still stroking your side gently. He rests his chin on your shoulder and watches the evening Paris slowly come alive with the same sense of wonder as you, even though he’s been here countless times before. But this is your first time here together and maybe that’s what gives everything its special kind of magic.

The restaurant Jiyong picked is just as perfect as everything else about your Paris weekend. Jiyong simply has an incredible talent for turning even an ordinary dinner into an unforgettable experience. Even after all these years together, he still manages to surprise you and make you flustered and he didn’t stop even after becoming your husband.

“So you planned this entire weekend down to the last detail, huh?” you ask after the waiter walks away from your table, having just brought over a bottle of expensive red wine, your favorite.

“I planned most of it,” Jiyong smiles before almost his entire face disappears behind the menu he’s carefully studying. In reality, you can tell his gaze is still fixed on you just as much as yours is fixed on him. “Some things I left open though. Like sex,” he adds after a moment.

You blush and glance around the restaurant. The surrounding tables are empty except for an older married couple seated at the far end of the room who apparently decided on a late dinner just like you.

“Kwon Jiyong, we’re in a restaurant. We should probably discuss things like that in private,” you say and lightly kick his leg under the table. Jiyong has always found your embarrassment adorable, so he simply reaches his hand across the table and places it over yours.

“I can’t help it. I keep thinking about how beautiful you are, how lucky I am that you said yes to me… and also about finally taking that dress off you once we get back to the suite.”

You lower your eyes and stare at the table in front of you. You were always afraid that the magic between you would fade with time, but lately you’ve only become more and more convinced that it’s actually getting stronger.

Jiyong keeps his hand over yours almost the entire evening except when the waiter brings another course and the two of you enjoy the meal Jiyong chose.

After dinner, you walk slowly through the quiet darkened streets of Paris back toward your suite. You laugh about random memories and all you can hear is Jiyong’s voice and the sound of your heels clicking against the pavement. It’s gotten colder, giving you another excuse to press yourself closer against him and let his warm arm wrap around you.

On the way, you stop by a chocolate shop that’s somehow still lit up at half past ten at night. The owner clearly wants to close already, but he takes pity on the lovestruck married couple and serves you both with a warm wish for a good night.

Chocolate wrappers crinkle softly in the dark as Jiyong steals the last salted caramel bonbon from you and you inform him with a completely serious face that you’re starting to consider divorce. Instead of replying, he pushes you lightly against the nearest pillar and kisses you. You can taste wine, chocolate and salted caramel on his tongue and suddenly you feel like you’re fifteen years old again and falling in love for the very first time.

The two of you spontaneously decide on a late-night walk along the Seine and for a while it feels like time itself has stopped. You only hear occasional laughter from people sitting somewhere near the water while the city lights reflect across the river and Jiyong’s warm arm stays wrapped around you. Your dress was the perfect choice for dinner but an absolutely tragic choice for a cold night walk.

You stop on one of the bridges overlooking the slowly flowing river. You lean against the railing and stare into the distance. Jiyong steps right behind you and wraps his arms around your waist. His chin automatically settles on your shoulder.

“I love you,” he murmurs quietly.

“I love you more,” you reply, taking hold of the hand resting against your belly. You tilt your head back slightly so you can kiss him.

The rest of the walk continues like that, interrupted only by small pauses to steal kisses and whisper warm words to each other.

“You must be freezing,” Jiyong says after a while and drapes his jacket over your shoulders. It’s still warm from his body heat and you close your eyes briefly when the scent of his cologne surrounds you. “We should head back to the suite, it’s seriously cold,” he says, rubbing his palms over your arms to warm you up a little. You agree without arguing because you really are cold by now, especially standing here near the river.

Once you return to the suite, you immediately kick off your shoes and rub your arms. The warmth of the hotel hallway helped a little, but after such a long walk through Paris at night you still feel frozen to the bone and Jiyong notices it immediately.

“Go change. I’ll run a bath in the meantime,” he says, guiding you toward the bedroom with one hand while he heads toward the bathroom.

You nod and slowly walk into the bedroom. You slip off his jacket and start unzipping your dress. From the bathroom you can hear the muffled sound of running water while your dress and underwear fall onto the floor. You throw a fluffy hotel robe over your bare body and head toward the bathroom.

The room is lightly fogged with steam and the bathtub is almost full already. Jiyong stands beside it with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up, one hand checking the water temperature before he turns toward you.

“Better?” he asks as he walks closer and slides his palms gently over your arms.

“A little,” you admit because you can already picture yourself lying in that bathtub full of perfectly warm water.

Jiyong steps back and starts unbuttoning his shirt before letting it slide onto the floor. You watch his bare chest that still attracts and excites you unbelievably even after all these years. His shoulders and the lines of muscles across his stomach that you love touching so much and his nipples, which are his sensitive weakness and almost the most erogenous part of his body.

When he stands completely naked in front of you, you feel a slight shiver run through your whole body and it definitely isn’t caused by the cold anymore. You bite your bottom lip as Jiyong steps into the bathtub and the water ripples softly around him. He leans comfortably against the back of the tub and reaches his hand out toward you.

“Come here…”

Your hands slide to the belt of your robe and with slightly trembling fingers you untie it and let it fall onto the floor. You can feel Jiyong’s gaze on you, which still makes you slightly nervous even after all these years together and after seeing each other like this a million times. Finally, you lift your eyes to his and take his hand so you can climb into the bathtub with him.

At first the water feels a little too hot, but as your body slowly warms up, the temperature becomes perfect after a while, exactly what you need. You sit down between Jiyong’s legs and lean your back against his chest and Jiyong immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer.

“Better?”

“Much better…” you mumble, wriggling contentedly before closing your eyes and leaning more heavily against his chest. With one hand Jiyong brushes your wet hair away from your shoulder and then slowly lets his palm slide down your arm. At first he’s only trying to warm you up, stroking your arms, your hips… then your stomach and thighs beneath the water. Gradually you hear his breathing quicken beside your ear and his hands stop feeling quite so innocent.

“Jiyong…” you breathe out when you feel his lips against your shoulder and his hand sliding along your thigh toward the space between your legs.

“Still cold?” he murmurs teasingly against your neck.

“I’m not…” you mumble and turn your head toward him so you can kiss him. After a moment though, you tilt your head back and rest it on his shoulder when his fingertips start brushing over your clit.

Jiyong kisses the skin beneath your ear and his fingers continue circling your clit until two of them slowly push inside you. The water around you ripples softly with every movement and you’re incapable of focusing on anything except his closeness and his fingers inside you.

You lean your full weight against Jiyong and your breathing speeds up almost at the same pace as the movement of his fingers inside you. You feel his lips breathing warm air against your ear and occasionally brushing against your neck.

“Jiyong…” you moan and brace one hand against his knee. When you feel your orgasm getting closer, you move your hand onto his forearm and tilt your head back more so you can kiss him. The kiss doesn’t last long though because you have to pull away to gasp when a wave of orgasm crashes through you and you squeeze your eyes shut as you exhale shakily.

Jiyong’s arms continue holding you tightly, his hands sliding down to your hips while his lips stay pressed against your temple. “You’re my princess, my everything…”

♡‧₊˚₊‧♡‧₊˚₊‧♡

The Sunday morning sunlight feels unusually gentle toward the two of you, almost as if it knows that by this time tomorrow you’ll already be leaving the hotel and this magical city with the hope of returning again soon. Even though you’re already awake, you keep your eyes closed and take in every detail. The weight of the blanket, Jiyong’s arm around your waist, his scent and the distant sounds from the street as the city slowly wakes up.

After a while you slowly open your eyes and realize Jiyong has apparently been awake for quite some time judging by the alert expression on his face. He’s lying on his side watching you. You can’t help smiling at his content expression. He watches you with the exact same lovestruck look he’s had for years and he clearly doesn’t care whether your hair is messy, your face makeup-free or whether you have pillow marks pressed into your skin.

“Good morning,” you mumble.

“The most beautiful one, I’d say. I put breakfast out on the terrace,” Jiyong replies before leaning closer to kiss you.

The two of you move out to the terrace where Jiyong has already brought coffee, pastries, fruit and your favorite blueberry jam to a small metal table. You eat breakfast while Jiyong frowns down at his phone where messages have already started coming in, reminding both of you that tomorrow you’ll be heading home and Jiyong back into his overloaded schedule.

“What if I told you I don’t want to go home?” you ask after a while, breaking the pleasant silence of the morning. Jiyong places his phone down at the edge of the table.

“Then I’ll cancel the return flights and call reception to extend our reservation,” Jiyong answers completely calmly and with absolute seriousness in his voice.

You get up from your chair and walk over to him so you can sit down on his lap. His arms automatically wrap around your waist. You kiss his forehead and run your fingers through his already messy hair.

“I’m guessing your manager wouldn’t survive that…”

“He would. Next time we’ll fly away for a whole week… or two.”

♡‧₊˚₊‧♡‧₊˚₊‧♡

During the day you deliberately avoid tourist spots because some tabloid article is the last thing Jiyong needs before BigBang’s upcoming tour. You wander through small streets without any real destination in mind. With Jiyong’s work schedule and how long you’ve been together, this is the most precious kind of time the two of you can spend together. You buy coffee in a tiny café and spend most of your time inside a small shop full of old vinyl records.

Jiyong holds your hand the entire time, something he normally can’t allow himself to do. Sometimes he brushes his thumb across the back of your hand or pulls you closer whenever some reckless cyclist speeds past you.

The entire day passes far too quickly and by evening, when you’re deciding what to do, you both unanimously settle on visiting only the hotel bar so you can go to bed early and be ready for your flight home in the morning.

You’re doing your makeup in the bathroom when Jiyong appears in the doorway. You notice him in the reflection of the mirror and turn toward him. “Give me a few more minutes,” you mumble while carefully applying mascara with complete concentration.

He walks closer, wraps his arms around your waist and presses a small kiss into your hair. “I’ll wait for you downstairs in the bar,” he says before leaving the bathroom.

It takes you another ten minutes or so before you finally leave the hotel suite and take the elevator down to the hotel bar. The bar is fairly empty on a Sunday evening like this, although a few guests are still spending their time there. You walk over to Jiyong and automatically sit down beside him.

“I never said the seat next to me was free,” he turns his head toward you and looks at you with a serious expression. For a moment you freeze and wonder if you did something wrong, if your makeup really took that long and now he’s annoyed. “Do we know each other?” he asks after a moment, running his finger along the rim of the wine glass sitting in front of him.

Is he drunk or has he completely lost his mind? You stare at him almost like you’re scanning him with an X-ray until you notice the tiny twitch at the corner of his lips. Okay, your husband is an absolute maniac who likes making every free moment more interesting. His brilliant idea probably came to him while he was waiting for you. Fine, we’re playing then…

“No,” you say after a moment before waving over the bartender and ordering the same wine Jiyong is drinking. “We don’t know each other.”

“Are you here alone?” Jiyong asks after a moment and you hesitate briefly over which direction you want to take this little game of yours. Eventually, you choose the option that sounds far more interesting to you.

“No, I’m here with my husband,” you answer calmly before taking a sip of wine. Jiyong furrows his brows slightly and you catch the spark in his eyes when he glances around far too obviously as if he’s genuinely searching for “your husband.”

“I don’t see him anywhere…”

“He promised he’d come meet me in a minute. He’s very busy with work.”

“That’s a pretty terrible sense of priorities, leaving a woman like you alone in a bar…”

“He trusts me,” you shrug and order yourself another glass of wine. “Despite the kind of person he is, he trusts me completely,” you add after a moment because after all these years you know exactly how to spark his interest and make him hungry for answers.

“What kind of person is he?”

“Well…” you hum quietly. “I’d say he’s pretty possessive. Specific in a way that’s hard to describe.”

“Really? He can’t be that possessive if he left you sitting alone in a bar, can he?”

“He didn’t leave me alone… he’s just… running late.”

“Word games.” Jiyong glances around the bar which has filled up with several hotel guests during your little theatrical performance. “Still, it’s getting rather crowded in here. Maybe we could continue our conversation somewhere quieter before your husband arrives…”

“I think there’s a private lounge at the end of the hallway and it looked empty,” you answer a little too quickly because it’s the nearest private space you noticed on your way to the bar. “We’d have more privacy there for our conversation.”

Jiyong gets up from the barstool before you even finish your sentence. “Lead the way.”

Thankfully the lounge really is empty. The lighting is pleasantly dim and there’s plenty of room for… conversation. You slowly walk almost to the middle of the room before turning back toward Jiyong. He closes the door behind the two of you and the noise from the hotel bar becomes nothing more than a muffled background sound. Jiyong remains standing by the closed door for a moment before finally walking toward you. He stops only once he’s right in front of you, forcing you to tilt your head slightly to meet his gaze.

“My husband could walk in at any moment,” you whisper because you can barely wait for Jiyong to finally kiss you.

“Really? Then I guess we shouldn’t waste time,” he says before his hand slides into your hair and tugs hard enough to make you gasp and part your lips. Jiyong leans down and finally kisses you…and it’s definitely not the kind of kiss a husband gives his wife before bed.

He lightly pushes you backward until your back hits the wall behind you. Jiyong pulls away for a second. “What do you think your husband would say if he knew what you were doing right now?” He doesn’t wait for your answer because he drops to his knees in front of you. Both of his hands slide along your thighs, from your knees all the way to the edge of your panties. He pushes your dress upward and motions for you to hold it around your waist. You clutch the fabric of your dress tightly as you watch him slowly pull your soaked panties down.

You hold your breath as your panties end up pooled around your ankles while Jiyong lifts one of your thighs onto his shoulder and finally leans closer to you. The first touch of his tongue makes you moan quietly, grip your dress tighter and press yourself harder against the wall behind you.

He licks your pussy carefully, from your entrance over your folds all the way to your clit. He stays there longer, brushing over it with the tip of his tongue and sometimes with the full flat of it until your moans grow louder.

“Does your husband make you feel this good too?” he murmurs against you and the vibration of his voice runs straight through your spine. Your breathing is too fast for you to answer properly.

“Shut up,” you manage to say after several attempts before sliding one hand into his hair, trying to pull him closer to you. You feel Jiyong smile against you before he starts licking and sucking your clit more desperately. He pushes two fingers inside you and keeps going with the same intensity. Your hips move against him instinctively until a wave of orgasm crashes through you and you have absolutely no chance of stopping it.

You squeeze your eyes shut and try to calm your racing breathing and heartbeat. Your knees tremble and your gaze finally drops down to Jiyong. He’s looking up at you while his palms slowly glide over your thighs again before he finally rises back to his feet and kisses you.

“Turn around, face the wall and spread your legs for me,” he says after a moment and you obey immediately. Your breathing hasn’t even returned to normal yet and it’s already speeding up again when you hear the sound of Jiyong unbuckling his belt, then his zipper, and finally his pants dropping around his ankles.

He grabs your hips and gently pushes you forward so your back arches slightly. One hand guides his cock as he drags it slowly through your still wet folds. You can’t stop a louder moan from escaping you which immediately makes Jiyong slide his hand back into your hair and force your head backward.

“If you don’t want your husband hearing you moan like some desperate little whore for another man’s cock, you should stay quiet,” he hisses as he slowly starts pushing inside you. You gasp sharply and try to muffle your moans by biting down on your bottom lip while resting your forehead against the wall in front of you.

Jiyong starts thrusting slowly and even he lets out a louder groan. You can feel his quickened breathing against your ear. “Such a wet, desperate pussy… so fucking tight… no wonder your husband is possessive…” he pants before his thrusts start getting faster and you tilt your head back until it rests against his shoulder.

“That’s it,” he groans when the rhythm of his thrusts becomes messy and chaotic and you can already feel yourself getting dangerously close to another orgasm. Jiyong’s hand slides down between your legs again and his fingers return to your clit. “I want to fill you up with my cum,” he whispers into your ear.

You moan more desperately and your pussy tightens around him even more in response to his words. “Then do it…” you pant breathlessly, already feeling your orgasm getting impossibly close. It takes only a few more thrusts before the two of you come almost at the same time.

Jiyong stays inside you afterward. He rests his forehead against your shoulder while breathing wildly. After a moment you finally turn toward him and with an exhausted but satisfied smile brush a strand of hair away from his face.

“God, you’re insane,” you mumble before kissing him. Jiyong laughs, tilts his head back and suddenly his expression freezes in pure horror. You follow his gaze and realize there’s a security camera only a few feet away from the two of you.

“No, no, no…” you shake your head and quickly bend down for your dress so you can put it back on as fast as possible even though… honestly, it’s already far too late for that.

Jiyong is probably still riding the high of his orgasm because he just laughs and drags a hand over the back of his neck. “Well, if I went to talk to security, maybe for a reasonable price we could get our first homemade sex tape…”

“Stop!” you smack his shoulder but you can’t stop yourself from laughing either because honestly, what else are you supposed to do in this situation? “I don’t think that homemade video would even be good,” you gesture around the room. “These surroundings look like some low-budget porno,” you wave toward the pile of chairs against the wall and the dusty tables.

Jiyong finally buttons his pants and raises an eyebrow. “So if I get better scenery, we can film something higher quality?”

“No!” you laugh while Jiyong wraps an arm around your shoulders and the two of you slowly sneak out of the lounge hoping nobody sees you. As you walk toward the elevator and pass reception, the receptionist smiles at both of you and gives a polite nod.

“Okay… we can never come back to this hotel again…” you mumble, completely red in the face once the elevator doors finally close behind you.

Jiyong leans casually against the mirrored wall of the elevator while looking at you in amusement. “Why? I think the staff is going to remember us for a very long time.”

“Exactly!” you cover your face with your hands. “That camera… God.”

“Look on the bright side. The night receptionist definitely had a very hard shift tonight…” Jiyong laughs before pulling you closer and kissing your hair.

Okay, after everything that happened tonight, you have to admit that your husband is not only an unbeatable romantic, but also an absolute maniac…and unfortunately that’s exactly one of the reasons why you love him so desperately.

You’d been nervous all week, worried that maybe the magic would wear off when he got to spend more than just a few hours with you. It was already arranged that you’d be taking the three weeks off training the future Olympians and staying at the AirBnB with him. Your time would be spent showing Jiyong and Daesung around when they weren’t rehearsing and spending all of weekend one at the festival. You’d never be to Coachella before and getting to experience it for the first time together would be special. 

You were at the airport, a bunch of daisies in hand, sunglasses piled atop your messy ponytail and you could feel the butterflies in your stomach - so big it felt like moths flying around. You were seated in his car, the driver and you had been making polite conversation since he’d picked you up from your house an hour ago.  And then you saw him - well, his security detail pushing people out of the way before he appeared. You couldn’t help the grin spread across your face. Suddenly the butterflies were gone. 

Jiyong slid into the car a few minutes later, Jaeho standing in just the right spot so that nobody could see inside the car. He looked at you, your heart skipped a beat and then he leaned in, his lips covering yours in a soft kiss. 

“Hi.” He smiled, forehead resting against yours, his hands still cradling your face. 

“Hi.” You went in for another kiss, but Jaeho had slid into the car, the trunk slamming shut and the driver took off.  “For you.” You pushed the daisies into his hand as he scooted back into his seat and he let out a laugh. 

“They’re perfect, thank you.” He placed them next to him, his hand reaching for yours. 

The drive to the house was met with comfortable silence, you sneaking glances at Jiyong every few minutes. His eyes were closed, head leaned back on the seat and you could only imagine how exhausted he was. Jaeho was alert though, upfront eyes looking in every direction. You’d gotten to know him a little bit in Milan and thought about talking to him. Something told you he was on the clock until Jiyong was safely where he should be and you shouldn’t bother him. 

“What were you doing?” Jiyong’s eyes were closed but he had a smirk on his lips, as if he could feel your eyes on him. 

“Nothing.” You shrugged, suddenly feeing embarrassed. Jiyong popped open an eye, his brow raised. 

“I promise I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Mostly just making sure you’re real.” You teased, causing Jiyong to bark out a laugh. 

“I’ll show you just how real I am.” Jaeho cleared his throat and you both held back a laugh at the reminder that you weren’t alone. 

You fell back into a comfortable silence, your eyes peeled to the window now as you tried to quiet your mind. You hadn’t remembered being so nervous then first time he’d ever face timed you, or when you finally met in person. Maybe that was because there was no label attached, you were friends who felt something more but hadn’t acted in anything. Now you knew what it was really like to be with him and you worried that maybe now that you were an average everyday nobody he wouldn’t be interested anymore. Maybe your comeback and determination had been what had drawn him in and without the Olympics you wouldn’t be interesting. 

You didn’t know that Jiyong thought about you nonstop since you’d gone your separate ways. That the thought of seeing you at Coachella had kept him going during late night rehearsals and the sleepless nights. You had completely turned his world upside down in the best possible way. He just wished there was a world in which you lived closer and he could see you all the time. But he would never ask you to uproot your life, not for him. 

You pulled up to the place you’d call home for the next couple weeks, it was gorgeous, not that you were shocked by that. Jiyong had exquisite taste, of course he stayed at only the best of the best. The home was big enough for all his security and for the rest of BigBang to stay without being on top of each other. 

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t nervous about meeting Daesung and Youngbae, but Jiyong had reassured you they were the nicest guys on the planet. Daesung had arrived first and ran outside to greet his leader like they hadn’t just seen each other hours before. 

Jiyong returned the younger man’s hug with a laugh before turning his attention to you. Daesung followed Jiyong’s movements, his eyes widening when he saw you, a smile on his face.

“Y/N it’s so nice to meet you!” You bowed in response and Daesung shook his head. “No, no, none of that!” The next thing you knew he was pulling you in for a hug.

“It’s nice to meet you too.” You smiled as Daesung released you. Jiyong’s arm wrapped around you loosely, pulling you gently to his side.

It was a small gesture, but one that silenced the doubt in your mind for a minute. You relaxed against him, listening as Daeung babbled on about the house and his flight and how bummed he was that his girlfriend wasn’t able to come until next week. He assured you that you’d love her though and he was fine fifth wheeling for the week. 

Jiyong finally pulled you away from Daesung with a promise of dinner together later that evening. He was tired, he needed a nap and he needed some long overdo alone time with you. He led you into the master suite, which sat on the opposite end of the upstairs from all the other rooms. He closed the door behind you, locking it. He wished for a do not disturb sign to hang on the door but he knew it would just be ignored anyway. 

His arms wrapped around your smaller frame, pulling you into him as his face angled down to yours. You angled your neck, reaching for him and your lips met in a soft kiss. It didn’t take long for him to deepen it. He wanted you to know how much he missed you, how much he needed you. His tongue darted out, licking your lower lip, begging for access. You obliged, your mouth parting and your tongues met, massaging together. 

He walked you backwards toward the bed, lowered you gently and hovered over you, his lips staying on yours the entire  time. He broke the kiss as you moved back on the bed, a whine escaping your lips. He chuckled as his lips moved to your neck, up to your earlobe. He bit down gently and you gasped, a shudder running through you. 

“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere.” He whispered before his lips continued their way down your body. 

He gently lifted your shirt up and you helped him remove it completely. You felt a little nervous, you’d only ever been this intimate once before. But the way Jiyong was looking at you? You had nothing to be nervous about. 

“You’re so beautiful.” He whispered, his eyes locked on yours.

 He removed your bra in one swift movement before his lips made their way down your breasts. His eyes stayed on yours as his tongue darted out, swirling around your nipple. Your breathing hitched as your back arched. He smirked, his mouth moving to your other breast and repeated the motions before he continued his way down your body. 

He moved to your shorts and pulled them and your panties down, you kicked out of them the rest of the way and Jiyong positioned himself between your thighs.  He lowered his head, his tongue darting out, moving between your slick folds. He moaned at how wet you already were as he licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. His tongue swirled around your clit slowly and you let out a moan. Your back arching even more. 

Your fingers moved to curl into his hair, moving him to just the right spot. His tongue was relentless as your hips rocked back and forth. You came embarrassing quick, but you blamed it on the fact that I’d had been a few months and it was just the nature of the game. 

Jiyong moved to hover over you again, your lips connecting in a hungry kiss. You helped him remove his clothes, and he pushed into you slowly. 

“God, Jagi.” He groaned as he began to move inside of you. “You feel so good.” 

His movements were quick, but gentle. You both were just excited to finally be back together. Phone sex only did so much. You wished it could always be this way, you just didn’t know how. Not when you both lived in such different worlds. You tried to turn your brain off, focus on the moment with Jiyong. Your hips moved to meet each thrust. 

Your nails digging into his back, holding him close as he moved in and out of you. Everything about this moment was perfect, you didn’t want to leave it. Your legs locked around his back, the heels of your feet pushing into his back, urging him to move deeper inside you. He obliged, his movements quicker as he hit your sweet spot. 

Your head fell back on the bed and Jiyong reached out, his hand on your chin so that you’d look at him. You got the silent message he was trying to tell you and you locked eyes with him. He wanted to see you come undone, and you’d give him the best you had. 

You could feel yourself getting closer, your body tensing with each movement before you finally came. Your nails dug into his back as he worked you through your orgasm. He came with you, his release filling you up. He kissed you slowly before pulling out of you. You laid there for a minute before a giggle escaped your lips. Jiyong raised a brow and turned on his side to look at you. 

“What?” You giggled again and shook your head. 

“We wasted no time.” You managed between giggles. Jiyong gave you a lopsided grin as he laid back down on the bed. 

“Can you blame me? I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

You both stayed like that for a while, your brain thinking of all the ways this would hurt when he left in a couple weeks. You tried not to think about it, but you knew it was a losing battle. You loved him and you knew how much it sucked to wake up and not see him, to not get to go on dates. Your relationship was phone calls and text messages and trying to find times that overlapped. Sometimes it almost didn’t feel real, not as real as your feelings for him anyway. 

“What are you thinking about?”

“I’m not.” 

“You have a worry dimple.” 

“I don’t have a worry dimple. That’s not a thing.” You turned to face him. 

“You do and it’s right there.” He poked the spot in between your eyebrows and you rolled your eyes. “I got very familiar with it before the Olympics but I’ve never seen it in person before. It’s fascinating.” 

“Shut up.” You laughed. You moved ever so slightly to bury your face in his chest. His arms wrapped around you and you could feel him relax against you. “I just don’t want you to go.” 

“I just got here! I’m not going anywhere.” His chin rested on the top of your head. 

“Yet.” 

“Let’s not think about it, not until we have to. Let’s just enjoy the time we have.” 

And you did. You spent every possible moment you could together, tagging along to rehearsals and outings with him and Daesung. You became fluent in pretending to just be friends. Fans already knew he’d watched you skate, it was easy to assume you’d become supportive friends over the months. They didn’t know you were dating. 

You spent the first two days of Coachella blending in with the crowd, dancing together to songs you loved, kissing in private vip lounges. Weekend one was for the influencers and celebrities and nobody cared about your relationship with Jiyong. It was a perfect weekend.

On Sunday, you hung out in his trailer, hiding when cameras came into view. You watched his pre show interview - the only one he’d done for Coachella, with his friend Kwanghee. It was amazing to see how many people had flown in from Korea to see and support the boys. Your heart swelled with pride as you watched from the sidelines. 

Bigbang had always been that group for you - the one that had saved you when you were younger, the ones that had always been there. It was surreal now that you were friends with them all and dating Jiyong. Somehow you’d managed to get the rights to skate to Bigbang and Ji’s songs and win gold because of them. No matter what happened after this trip, they would still remain the group that saved you. He would still remain the guy who inspired your comeback. Who cheered the loudest as you skated into retirement. Someone you would love and cherish for the rest of your life. 

You watched their set in awe. They didn’t miss a beat. Even if they didn’t look the same as they had pre hiatus, they found a way to make it work with three and the crowd was eating up every minute of it. You could tell Jiyong was nervous, this wasn’t the same show you’d seen in LA all those months ago. 

You watched closely as the show came to an end, saw the tears in his eyes, and knew how much this moment meant to him. How much he wished for one other person to be on that stage with them. The way he was coming to terms with the new era of his group. You met him off stage as soon as the show was over, your arms wrapping around him. He held you close for what felt like hours. 

“I’m so incredibly proud of you, Ji.” You whispered. “You were amazing.” 

“I could’ve been better. I’ll make sure it’s better next week.” He loosened his grip on you, his hand finding yours as he led you backstage. 

Everyone cheered for the guys, champagne flowing freely between everyone. The atmosphere was party mode and after everyone got the social media pictures they needed you were finally able to cuddle up with Jiyong and enjoy the night together. 

The next week went by in a blur and before you knew it, you were back at Coachella. Watching exactly what Jiyong had promised. You knew the comments of his performance, the lighting, the songs had bothered him, even when he tried not to let it get to him. 

He’d spent the last week between public appearances perfecting everything that had gone wrong, picked out new outfits, arranged songs differently and it was paying off. You were left standing there amazed and in awe of his talent, yet again. 

He found you the second the show was over and he greedily took you away from the crowd. He’d celebrated last week and tonight was his last night before he had to go home. He wanted to spend it with you. Of course he was proud of what he’d accomplished during his stay, but none of that mattered right now. The woman he loved wouldn’t be within arms reach for much longer and he needed you. 

You spent most of the night tangled in the sheets, trying to convey how much you meant to each other, how much you’d miss each other. How much you loved each other and when morning came you had a teary goodbye. 

“I hate this.” You sniffled as you angrily wiped at your eyes. 

“Me too.” Jiyong’s hands cupped your face, and his forehead rested against yours. “We’ll find away to make this work.” It was a promise. 

He couldn’t picture a world without you in it, but he wasn’t selfish enough to ask you to uproot your life for him. You sniffled and leaned up, your lips meeting his in a kiss. He held you there for a while, not wanting to let go but knowing he had to. 

You waved goodbye to him as he got out of the car. He didn’t look back again after that, keeping his eyes fixed in front of him. His sunglasses hiding the tears in his own eyes as he made his way to his gate and further away from you. 

You settled back into your routine, Jiyong called as soon as he landed and everything was as it was before he’d arrived in Los Angeles. Except that your heart ached in a different way. 

It took exactly a week before you started making calls. You didn’t mention any of your plan to Jiyong in case it didn’t work. It was late on a Friday when you got the call. You could coach in Korea. 

You broke the news to your boss and the girls you were training the following Monday. The rest of the week was spent packing. Just essentials for now, the rest of your stuff could move later, once you found a place to live. 

It was a normal Sunday evening in Seoul, as normal as it got for Jiyong. He’d just finished feeding the cats and had settled down for the night, his phone in his hand about to call you when he heard a knock at the door. He didn’t remember making plans for the night and decided to ignore it. Calling you was a nightly tradition and sacred and he wouldn’t miss it. You picked up on ring two. 

“Hi.” 

“You sound tired, Jagi. Are you ok?” 

“I’ve been up for what feels like days. Why don’t you open the door and let me in?”

“What?”  

He was on his feet and running to the door. You could hear him echoing both through the phone and his apartment as he made his way closer to you. The door opened and you ended the call, your phone falling into your bag as Jiyong wrapped his arms around you. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“I got a new job. I’m moving here.” 

“Wait. What?” He leaned back to take you in, his eyes wide, hopefully. 

“I don’t want to be away from you anymore.” Jiyong grinned before releasing you were still in the hallway and moved to let you into the apartment. 

“I love you.” He mumbled before his lips connected with yours. 

“I love you too.” 

For the first time in a long time, you finally felt hopeful. Everything had aligned perfectly, giving you the dream ending you’d always wanted for your career, and now you could have the dream life with the man you loved.

You’d been staring at his text message for a half hour now, you blinked when another message from him came in and sighed. One year of no contact down the drain. 

Hey. 

It was simple, something with  no strings attached to the reply. You could’ve responded to that. But then the second message came through and you weren’t so sure now. 

I miss you…

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard. Your boyfriend was a good guy. Saying hey back to Jiyong was innocent, right? But you knew there was nothing innocent in the way you still felt about him. 

Hi. Sorry for not coming up to you today. I just thought it might be awkward. 

You look good, Ji. 

You sent it before you could really think about it. 

How’ve you been? 

Good! I’ve started seeing someone. 

Oh, yeah. Me too. 

You told him about your boyfriend, and he in return talked about his girlfriend. She was a model because of course she was and you were dating an accountant at your office. You spent the rest of the evening catching up, trying to outdo each other on who has “won” the breakup. Not that it mattered. Neither of you had really won anything if you were up until two AM texting each other. 

This went on for a week. A solid week of innocent texting, catching up, nothing more. That’s what you told yourself anyway. But the butterflies you got every time you phone buzzed, hoping it was him was a different story. One night, his private instagram followed you and started going through your posts.

That’s him? 

Yes.

lol. 

He’s very nice, Ji. 

I’m sure he is. 

Mina is gorgeous. 

Not as gorgeous as you. 

And there it was, the one thing you’d been trying to avoid. It was out there now. You thanked him and sat your phone down. Minjun was sitting next to you on the couch, engaged in the movie you’d picked out. 

“Everything ok?” He asked, eyes not leaving the screen. 

“Yeah, just mom. She’ll be fine.” 

You felt bad lying, this wasn’t who you were. Your phone buzzed again but you didn’t check it. You knew it was Jiyong and there was no point in looking at what he had to say right now. 

Once Minjun was gone and you were crawling into bed for the night, you decided it was time to see what Jiyong had to say. 

He’s not good enough for you. 

And how would you know? 

Can just tell. 

Ji, this isn’t fair to either of them. 

I can’t stop thinking about you, Jagiya. Tell me you don’t think about me. Don’t wish it was me fucking you. Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll leave you alone. 

Ji…

That’s what I thought. 

You put your phone down, vowing that you wouldn’t talk to him again. You were happy, so was he. You could live in this lie. You had to. You weren’t a cheater, neither was he. You took the day off to try and clear your head.  Your phone buzzed and you sighed. You hoped it was Minjun checking on you, it wasn’t. 

Lunch? 

When?

Today?

Like, right now? 

I’m outside your apartment.

What? 

You ran to your window, pulling the curtains aside and sure enough, there was his car. You sighed as you reached for your bag, sending a text to let him know you were on the way down. A few minutes later, you slid into his car like it was the easiest thing in the world. And maybe it was. 

“Hi.” You nodded as you put your seatbelt on. 

“Hi.” He smirked as he took off. 

You sat in a comfortable silence for a minute, your eyes scanning every inch of him you could see. He looked older, more mature than the last time you’d seen him. His hair was bleached, which was a color you’d really grown to enjoy on him before. He was all sharp edges and the sides of his head had been shaved. He really did look great. 

“What?” He never took his eyes off the road but the smirk was still present. 

“Nothing.” You turned your head, facing out the window. “Where are we going?”  He shrugged. 

“I didn’t really have anything in mind.” He pulled off the road a few minutes later. 

You recognized the spot immediately. It was an overlook that he used to take you to whenever you needed to have a serious conversation. You couldn’t help but laugh when you realized where you were. The views were gorgeous, especially at night. The city lighting up below you, it always made everything seem a little better even if the conversation was heavy. It still held the same beauty during the day, just in a different way. 

“Why here?” He shrugged. “How did you know I wasn’t at work?”

“I took a gamble, and I was right.” 

“You said lunch, so why here?” Jiyong smirked and turned to the backseat, pulling out a bag of takeout. 

“Got your favorites.” 

You took the bag from him, pulling out your bulgogi burger and smiled before taking a bite. Being here with him like this brought up so many emotions. You wished you could just  wish these feelings away. You didn't want to want him anymore. You’d broken up for a reason, there was no reality in which you two worked anymore. 

“What’s wrong? The burger not good?” 

You hadn’t realized you’d stopped eating and you shrugged, setting the burger down. 

“This is weird, isn’t it? We’re just out here acting as if everything is normal and it’s not.” Jiyong sighed, setting his own burger down and turned to face you. 

“It’s not normal, but I hoped it wouldn’t be weird.” He reached his hand out, cupping your cheek. “Stop being so in your head.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing. Jiyong took that opportunity to close the remaining distance between you, his lips covering yours in a gentle kiss. Your eyes opens, wide with shock before you fully gave him. Your hands tangling in his shirt, pulling him closer. 

You knew this was wrong but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. The kiss was anything but sweet, it was rough, desperate, full of months of yearning, all the hurt you’d both felt. He bit down on your bottom lip and you moaned as you carefully moved over the center console, straddling his lap. He reached down, pushing his seat as far away from the steering wheel as possible as he broke the kiss. 

“God, I missed you.” You smiled, your lips finding his again as your hips rocked against his. 

He let out a groan, his hand moving to your shorts. You lifted off him slightly, just enough for him to get them pulled off you enough. His fingers toyed at your folds and his teeth sunk into the exposed skin at your shoulder. 

“This wet for me, Jagi? Already?”  He slid his fingers past your folds, moving them quickly in and out of you. 

“Yes.” You breathed, your hips rocking against his hand. “Always for you.” 

“You think of me when you fuck him, don’t you?” His movements quicker, more rough as he spoke. His thumb found your clit, circling it quickly and you moaned.

“Yes.” 

You rocked back and forth, letting his fingers curl inside you just right. Your lips connecting with his again. You didn’t know if it was the thrill of being with someone who wasn’t Minjun, or the fact that you were in such a public spot, or maybe the fact that you really did think about Jiyong to get off most nights. Maybe it was combination of all three, but you were the most turned on you’d ever been in your life. 

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” Jiyong whispered. 

You could feel his erection through his jeans which sent a shockwave of pleasure through you. Your moans louder as his fingers curled inside you. 

“Cum for me, Jagi. I know you want to.”

 And you did, your hips moving quicker as you lost control, your walls tightening around his fingers. You buried your head in his chest as you shook against him. 

“Fuck me, Ji.” You moved your head to look at him and he raised a brow. “Please.” 

He kissed you roughly, always liking when you’d begged for it in the past. How could he say no to you when you were looking at him like that? Your hand moved to undo his zipper, reaching for his cock and sliding it through the opening. He removed his fingers from your slick, bringing them up to his mouth. 

His eyes stayed locked on yours as he sucked your slick off his fingers. You were wet just watching him. Minjun was never this bold in bed and you couldn't help but wonder if he was satisfied with Mina. Maybe not since he was here with you. 

His hands moved to your hips, helping guide you into him and you lowered yourself quickly. You both moaned at the contact. He bottomed out, and you rocked once, adjusting to him. 

“I forgot how tight you were, Jagi. How good it feels to be inside you.” 

You responded by sliding off him and slamming back down. Your hand tangled in his shirt so tightly to keep you balanced. His hands dug into your hips. 

His hips came up, matching your movements and you both set a steady pace. You could feel yourself getting closer and Jiyong held you tight as you shook with ecstasy. He kissed you again, never slowing his pace as he fucked you through your second orgasm. 

He carefully laid the car seat down all the way and flipped you so you were on your back, your feet over his shoulders. Thank god for big cars. His movements were quick, deliberate and you were angled just right for him to hit your sweet spot each time. 

“Your mine.” He grunted his thrusts rougher. 

“All yours, Oppa.” You moaned, your back arching further. 

“Do I fuck you better than him?”

“God, yes.” 

“I fucking love you, Jagiya. Only you.” His lips connected with yours 

A few thrusts later and you were both coming together. He released inside of you, feeling you up completely. You didn’t care that you’d just had unprotected sex with your ex, that you’d both just cheated on your partner. Not when that had felt so good. 

You crawled off him, pulled your shorts back up and sat down in your seat. You didn’t say anything as he drove you back home. There was no need for words, you’d already said everything that needed to be said. He pulled up in front of your apartment a few minutes later, kissed you softly and you slipped out of the car and back to your life. 

It didn’t have to mean anything, except it had meant everything. You tried not to think about him, didn’t text him didn’t follow him back on instagram. He didn’t reach out either. You both knew where you stood with each other, but the break up had happened for a reason. 

It wasn’t until a month went by, and a test had been taken when you showed up outside his apartment late one night. By the grace of god he was there alone and when he invited you in you shook your head. 

“What’s going on Jagi?” 

“I’m pregnant.”

You realized it during the first game you played together with the other children, a game about conquering a castle that practically meant splitting into two groups and turning the whole thing into chaotic tag. You stood slightly off to the side beneath the trees of the castle garden with your arms crossed over your chest when you noticed that you’d become the target of little lord Jiyong, who was charging toward you at terrifying speed. Before you even had time to react, you were lying flat on your back while he knelt on top of you and laughed happily with that wide grin of his.

“We won!” Jiyong shouted excitedly while still holding your wrists above your head. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the other children immediately stop the game and stare at you in horror as you rolled around in the wet grass in your princess dress. Nobody’d ever dared to do something like this to you before…

“You didn’t win, I wasn’t even paying attention,” you protested and tried to free yourself from Jiyong’s grip. Even as a child you had to admit that you liked the fact that someone wasn’t avoiding you simply because you were a princess.

“That’s your own fault. When you defend a kingdom, you always have to stay alert because the enemy never sleeps,” Jiyong replied back then after finally letting you go and climbing off you. Despite being only eight years old, just like you, he was incredibly clever and learned very quickly. He was also very temperamental and struggled to sit still during lessons for too long and would’ve much rather run around outside or practice sword fighting instead.

You could say with certainty that from that moment on lord Jiyong became your greatest partner in crime and the entire kingdom had been talking about the two of you. Especially during moments when the two of you ran through the castle halls without restraint and knocked over everything standing in your way, causing the servants more than a few unpleasant moments while cleaning up after you.

Jiyong’s behavior toward you never changed even as the two of you grew older and slowly became more aware of your true positions. One day a terrible storm caught the two of you while returning to the castle from a horseback ride. You were both sixteen at the time but that didn’t change the fact that storms still frightened you. Jiyong tried to act like he had the entire situation under control and that it wouldn’t take long to reach the castle.

But then a deafening crack of thunder echoed through the sky and your horse bolted and threw you from the saddle. It wasn’t anything serious but you were completely shocked in that moment. Jiyong immediately climbed down from his horse and knelt beside you while you sat up and hissed in pain from your ankle. He began examining it carefully and after a moment stood back up and returned to his horse to climb back into the saddle while you remained sitting in the wet dirt in disbelief.

“Get up. We’ve to go before the storm gets worse,” he said calmly.

“But my ankle—”

“It’s not broken or sprained, so stop acting like a princess and get up.”

“But—”

“I’ve fallen like this a million times. Now get up already, the storm’s getting worse… And you should stop whining like this because nobody’s going to want a queen like that,” he said simply and without emotion while watching you climb back onto your horse covered in mud.

Jiyong treated you like any other girl in his life and never cared about your high status, which honestly taught you far more about life than all the lessons and lectures you’d been forced to attend as a royal daughter.

From the moment both of you turned sixteen, the people around you started paying more attention to the two of you as well. At first, you barely noticed because to you lord Jiyong was still simply Jiyong. Still the same boy who’d tackled you into the wet grass without warning and laughed while you got angry that he’d beaten you at chess again and the same boy who constantly convinced you to ride horses that were far too wild because, according to him, it was fun…even though the queen would’ve probably lost her mind if she’d known what her daughter was doing in her free time and how recklessly she behaved... Jiyong simply loved dragging the two of you into every possible problem that appeared. To you, nothing had changed at all, but the court slowly became more and more observant…

It started subtly. The looks from the court ladies who immediately fell silent whenever you entered a room with Jiyong, the whispers from the servants whenever he automatically took your hand while helping you out of a carriage, or lightly adjusted your dress while you sat down at the table. To Jiyong these were ordinary things he’d been doing practically his entire life. To everyone else, they weren’t anymore…

“You should be more careful,” your mother told you once during lunch while reaching for her glass of wine and taking a sip from it. “People like to talk.”

“About what?” you asked in complete confusion and the queen exchanged a meaningful look with your father, who only smiled faintly and lowered his gaze back to his plate. Unlike your mother, he seemed more amused by your innocence and cluelessness than offended by it.

“About you… and lord Jiyong.”

You stopped chewing for a moment and rolled your eyes in annoyance even though you knew that was completely improper behavior for a princess and future queen. “Jiyong—” you began, but your mother interrupted you immediately.

“Lord Jiyong.”

“I apologize, yes, lord Jiyong has been with me since childhood,” you answered simply and continued poking at your food because you weren’t hungry at all. Jiyong had promised to take you horseback riding near the kingdom’s borders later that day, somewhere you’d never been before, and you’d been looking forward to it all morning.

“Exactly,” your mother snapped and ended her moralizing lecture there.

But conversations like these started happening more and more often. During etiquette lessons, your mother constantly reminded you of your position and your role, repeating over and over that one day you wouldn’t only represent yourself but the entire kingdom and that every glance, every smile, and especially every decision you made would carry weight and be carefully watched.

“You’ll be queen soon,” she repeated again and again while servants rushed around you, adjusting the layers of expensive fabric on your dress. “And a queen must never allow any feelings to outweigh her duties and the wellbeing of her kingdom.”

“What if I don’t have any feelings?” you muttered once in annoyance because her lectures exhausted you endlessly. That day she looked at you with an unsettlingly searching expression and answered, “Then you’re on the right path.”

The king, your father, was far calmer than your mother, but even he gradually had to show you the reality of the future waiting ahead of you. He often brought you with him to long meetings with envoys from neighboring kingdoms and noblemen and you were bored to death during every single one of them. While your father and the other men around the table discussed possible alliances, armies, trade and the wellbeing of ordinary people, you usually found yourself watching Jiyong, who sat nearby together with his father, the duke who still held enormous respect at court long after the war had ended.

Jiyong’s father was one of the very few men your father truly trusted. During the war, he’d stood beside him during nearly every important decision and without his army, your kingdom would’ve most likely suffered far greater losses. Maybe that’s why Jiyong never felt like an outsider at court. But his father wasn’t blind either…

“Remember your position,” you overheard the duke telling Jiyong one evening while walking past the library on your way back to your chambers. You stopped beside the slightly open door and listened quietly for a moment.

“I’ve never forgotten my position…” Jiyong muttered calmly. His voice sounded muffled through the door.

“Then start acting like it,” his father replied harshly and the moment you heard footsteps approaching, you hurried away before either of them could see you. At the time, you had no idea what any of it truly meant…

♔ ♚ ♔ ♚♔ ♚ ♔ ♚

Several months later, the castle is hosting a grand winter ball. Noblemen from neighboring kingdoms, envoys, princes and sons of powerful families have all gathered there and the entire castle has spent months preparing for the celebration. Including you, because among other things, this evening is supposed to serve as your presentation as the future queen.

You hate every second of the evening from the moment the servants start forcing you into several layers of a heavy emerald green dress embroidered with gold. The corset squeezes you painfully and the expensive jewelry being added around your neck and hair is so heavy that your head starts aching.

“I can’t breathe,” you groan in annoyance and one of the servants nervously lifts her gaze from the laces of your dress.

“You’ll get used to it. Every future queen says that, Your Highness.”

“Then I don’t want to be queen,” you say firmly and a sudden silence fills the room. The only thing you hear is one of the servants dropping a golden hairpin onto the floor with a quiet clink.

“You shouldn’t say things like that out loud, Your Highness…” the servant behind you mutters and continues tightening your dress.

“Too late. I already said it.”

“As always… you speak before you think.”

You recognize the voice immediately and turn your head toward the doorway. Jiyong’s leaning against the frame while watching you. He’s wearing a black formal coat embroidered with silver thread, tall riding boots, and a sword hanging from his waist. He looks like even during a ball, he’s prepared to refuse the idea of staying inside for too long and leave at any moment to climb onto a horse and disappear somewhere for an aimless ride.

He looks far more elegant than most men in the castle and for some reason that irritates and unsettles you slightly.

“So you actually know how to dress properly?” you ask and turn toward him because you’re finally trapped beneath every layer of your dress, which probably weighs at least ten kilos altogether. The crown and jewelry likely add another two kilos…

“Yes and for once you actually look like someone the kingdom could listen to one day,” he says and slowly looks you over from head to toe.

“That almost sounds like a compliment.”

“Don’t get used to it. Your ego’s already unbearable enough,” Jiyong smirks before turning around and walking away from your chambers. You notice the servants exchanging glances again. They’re most likely shocked and slightly offended by the way you speak to Lord Jiyong and by the fact that he speaks to you the same way in return. To hell with etiquette anyway…

The grand ballroom’s overflowing with music, laughter and loud conversations, and your head hurts from all of it even more than from the heavy jewelry hanging from your neck and woven into your hair. One dance follows another, and soon every prince and nobleman asking you to dance starts blending together into one identical person. Their faces, names, and kingdoms blur together completely...

One prince behaves far too theatrically while dancing, another smiles so stiffly at you that you feel like you might need to revive him soon, and a third spends the entire dance staring at your chest instead of your eyes…

Every time you return to the royal table, you find Jiyong sitting only a few steps away from you. He watches the ballroom with the same observant expression he always wears during hunts or sword training. Beside him sits his father together with yours and the two of them continue yet another exhausting conversation about politics, armies, and the future of the kingdom.

“That prince from the south is unbearable. If he asks me to dance one more time, I’m going to step on his feet on purpose,” you mutter quietly when Jiyong approaches to refill your wine.

“He’s intelligent,” Jiyong says calmly, as if he’s actually trying to defend the prince.

“He’s horribly arrogant,” you answer immediately.

“That describes most men at court. But his family has a strong army,” Jiyong says after a moment and finally lifting his gaze toward you.

“You’re talking about them as if I’m actually supposed to choose one of them…” you reply in disbelief while staring at him.

“You’ll have to choose eventually. One day you’ll be queen...”

“That doesn’t mean I have to be miserable,” you say almost desperately, because only now does the seriousness of the situation truly hit you…the realization that you’re actually expected to choose your future husband and future king from this entire parade of men. Jiyong doesn’t answer and simply lowers his gaze toward his wine glass instead.

The music starts again and several couples immediately return to the center of the ballroom. You rub your temples tiredly and sigh. You’re not capable of surviving another dance with another incompetent fool and so you reach your hand out toward Jiyong.

“Dance with me.”

Jiyong lifts his gaze toward you in surprise. “I thought you were already tired of dancing tonight.”

“I am, which is why this will be the last one, and I want at least one normal dance.”

Silence settles between the two of you for a brief moment and then Jiyong finally sets down his wine glass and takes your hand without another word.

Dancing with Jiyong feels strangely easy and maybe that’s because around him you don’t have to think about every movement, every step, or every word. The two of you have known each other for far too long not to recognize the rhythm of each other’s breathing, moods, and glances before either of you even speaks.

His hand rests firmly against your waist and you suddenly realize how different the way he touches you feels compared to every other man who’s danced with you tonight. Most of them held you as if you were made of fragile glass and you could practically feel how terrified they were and how desperately they wanted to impress you. Jiyong isn’t like that. Jiyong’s never been afraid of you… never.

“Everyone’s staring at us…” you murmur quietly.

“Let them stare,” Jiyong replies calmly, but you can hear the faintest trace of nervousness in his voice. He’s definitely noticed the looks from everyone around you as well.

“My mother’s probably going to have you executed soon,” you mutter quietly with a grin.

“Your father had never allow that… I’m his favorite lord after all,” Jiyong grins back proudly and lifts his chin slightly and for the first time the entire evening you genuinely laugh.

When the dance ends, Jiyong keeps his hand resting against your waist for slightly longer than what’s considered appropriate at court, or at least, it feels that way to you. You carefully glance around and notice several court ladies whispering among themselves. The moment they realize you’ve caught them staring, they immediately lower their eyes.

“Strange…” you murmur in amusement. “People really do love gossiping…”

“People at court usually have nothing better to do,” Jiyong replies calmly.

“That coming from the man who spends half his life listening to political debates with my father.”

“I don’t do that voluntarily...”

Before you can answer him, another prince approaches the two of you with a perfectly practiced smile and an unnecessarily deep bow. Just looking at him exhausts you, let alone the thought of surviving another dance with him.

“Your Highness, I was hoping I could ask you for another dance.”

Internally you nearly groan and mentally run through every terrible curse word Jiyong once carefully taught you during one particularly long evening together, words that absolutely don’t belong in a princess’s vocabulary.

“The princess has danced enough for tonight,” Jiyong answers for you with complete calmness and doesn’t even bother trying to sound apologetic. The prince’s smile stiffens slightly as he straightens up and turns toward Jiyong.

“Do you make decisions regarding the princess’s schedule now, lord Jiyong?”

The prince says Jiyong’s title with such obvious disdain that it nearly makes your head spin. Beside you you feel Jiyong tense slightly as he straightens his posture and lifts his chin. There’s no doubt he noticed the mocking tone as well.

“Sometimes,” Jiyong replies calmly and firmly.

“Jiyong,” you hiss quietly in an attempt to ease the growing tension, because you know that only a few more words would be enough for Jiyong to throw the prince onto the floor and land at least a few well-deserved punches. “Please excuse us,” you say with a smile toward the prince and don’t even wait for an answer. You simply grab Jiyong’s hand and pull him out of the ballroom.

The deeper into the castle the two of you walk, the more the music and laughter behind you begin to fade. You can only hope nobody noticed the two of you leaving together and that the prince keeps quiet about this little…misunderstanding.

“One day someone’s actually going to do something to you because of the way you behave…” you mutter, but you can’t stop yourself from laughing while the two of you hurry through the empty castle hallways. “You almost insulted a prince.”

“Only almost?”

You shake your head in disbelief. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet you still drag me everywhere with you,” Jiyong says with a satisfied grin and you have no answer for that because he’s right.

By the time you reach your chambers, you’re exhausted and desperate to get rid of everything you’re wearing. You immediately pull the crown from your hair and practically throw it onto the small table beside the door in disgust.

“I hate balls.”

“That’s obvious,” Jiyong replies calmly.

“I hate dresses.”

“That’s also obvious.”

“And I hate every arrogant and fake prince in that ballroom.”

“That became obvious during the first hour.”

You turn toward Jiyong with an exhausted expression while he casually walks toward the fireplace as if these chambers belong to him just as much as they belong to you. In a way, they almost do. He’s spent half his life here with you…

Without even thinking about it, you turn your back toward him again and begin trying to loosen the heavy bodice of your dress. Your fingers ache from the ridiculous number of rings on your hands and from all the jewelry the servants spent hours placing onto your body.

“Help me?” you mutter in annoyance after repeatedly failing to free yourself from the dress. Jiyong lets out a quiet sigh, shakes his head and walks over to you. His fingers touch the laces at your back without the slightest hesitation. It feels just as natural as when he helped you climb onto a horse for the first time or treated your scraped palms after your first fall while you panicked about whether your mother would notice.

“I think my ladies-in-waiting would faint if they saw you right now…”

“The servants nearly faint every time I get within ten meters of you anyway,” Jiyong replies while continuing to focus on loosening your corset. You can’t help laughing quietly at his comment. After a moment, the corset finally loosens, and you let out a deep sigh of relief before letting the rest of the heavy dress fall to the floor around your ankles. You’re left standing only in the thin underlayers beneath it and rub your aching neck gently. Not even for a second does it occur to you to hide yourself from Jiyong. You’ve never even thought about things like that before.

“That prince from the south was truly the worst,” you say while walking toward the table to pour yourself a glass of water. “He probably thought that smiling at me and complimenting my dress would immediately make me want to marry him.”

“He’s very educated and well positioned—”

“Jiyong—”

“And his kingdom’s extremely wealthy. He could—”

“Please stop…” you mutter because you don’t want to hear any of this. You don’t even want to imagine marrying any of the men you danced with tonight and making one of them your future king…

Silence settles between the two of you and suddenly feels heavy and almost unbearable. You slowly walk toward the mirror and begin pulling one golden ornament after another from your hair.

“You read a lot…” you say quietly after a moment and meet Jiyong’s gaze through the reflection without actually turning around to face him. “Is it possible for a princess to marry a lord?”

Jiyong lifts his gaze toward your reflection in the mirror and studies your expression for several seconds as if he's trying to make sure he heard the question correctly. Meanwhile, you continue removing the jewelry from your hair as casually as if you’d just asked whether the two of you were going horseback riding tomorrow.

“I’ve… I’ve read about a few situations like that,” he finally answers and his voice sounds far too uncertain, carrying the same nervous tone you’ve heard from him several times during discussions with your father. “But it’s not something people usually accept easily. For a kingdom it can become… complicated.”

“How complicated?”

Jiyong looks away from your reflection for a moment and stares into the fire. “Princesses are married for alliances, for trade, for stability between kingdoms…”

“But even so, a marriage like that’s possible…isn’t it?”

“A princess marrying a lord could be seen as weakening the crown because it would—”

“I’m asking whether it’s possible,” you interrupt calmly and finally turn around to face him after removing the last unnecessary decoration from your hair. Silence settles between you again and the only things breaking it are the crackling fire and the distant music drifting up from the ballroom below.

“Yes,” Jiyong answers quietly after a moment. “I think… probably yes.”

His answer fills you with a strange sense of relief and the smallest spark of hope. You lean your hands against the table behind you and watch Jiyong, who’s still standing only a few steps away from you while the firelight flickers in his eyes. He’s unbelievably intelligent and well-read and unlike all those polished princes, he never pretends to be someone else.

“And would you like the idea of being king?” you ask after a moment with a faint smile.

Your question pulls a quiet laugh from Jiyong and he shakes his head in disbelief. “Technically I wouldn’t actually be king—”

“Jiyong—” you interrupt warningly because you’re not interested in another lecture. You slowly begin walking toward him but he continues speaking anyway.

“I would only stand beside the ruling queen. The crown and the right to rule would belong to the queen. Historically speaking my role would be more—”

He never finishes the sentence because you kiss him. For a brief moment he freezes completely and visibly tries to understand what’s happening. Your fingers curl against the fabric of his coat and only now do you realize how fast your heart’s beating. After a few seconds Jiyong’s hand slowly moves to your waist, to the exact same place where he held you during the dance earlier, and he finally kisses you back.

When the two of you finally pull apart again, your heart’s beating so loudly that Jiyong must be able to hear it. He stares at you silently for several seconds, taking in your loose hair, your flushed cheeks and the thin fabric of the underdress falling softly against your body. After a moment he smiles again and shakes his head in disbelief.

“You’re insane.”

“Me?” you ask innocently. “I’m not the one who almost started a fight with a prince in front of the entire kingdom.”

“I wouldn’t have fought him…”

“If I hadn’t interrupted, you probably would have,” you reply because you always need to have the last word. Jiyong lets out a quiet breath through his nose and his hand slides up to your neck, his thumb brushing gently over the sensitive skin beneath your jaw.

“The queen would hate me even more than she already does…” Jiyong says quietly and despite the faint smile on his lips, there’s something sad and resigned hidden in his voice.

“My mother’s always going to suspect you of being a bad influence on me.”

“And am I?”

“The worst possible influence...”

Jiyong finally laughs properly at that and gently rests his forehead against yours. If you couldn’t still hear the distant music from the ballroom, you’d almost believe time had stopped for a moment… but it hasn’t. Time keeps moving and the entire castle’s still celebrating the future of its princess and future queen…

“I’ll speak to my father,” you say quietly after a moment and immediately feel Jiyong tense slightly beneath your hands.

“You actually mean that?” he whispers while lightly brushing his nose against yours.

“My father likes you... You said it yourself, you’re his favorite lord.”

“That doesn’t mean he’ll agree to me standing beside you…”

Silence settles between you once again. You honestly don’t know how your father will react or what he’ll say, but you’re relying on the fact that Jiyong’s father is a respected duke who helped your kingdom survive its darkest years.

You lift your hand to Jiyong’s face and slowly brush your fingers along his jaw. “Then I suppose I should hope I paid attention during all those lessons about negotiation and diplomacy so I can convince him…” you whisper before kissing Jiyong once again.

As the two of you grew older, your friendship only became stronger. It was one of those bonds that survives hardships, joys and every fall in between while still remaining steady as a rock. You always supported Jiyong and stood by his side, as if you were giving him strength in his weakest moments and fighting for him the same way he used to fight for you when you couldn’t defend yourself.

But as you grew up and responsibilities piled up, your time together slowly started disappearing. His packed schedule, your job… adult life simply isn’t easy. Gradually, you saw each other less and less. Fewer random visits, fewer of those small things that once felt natural.

The change became most noticeable when Jiyong started dating Hana. Hana was… complicated. Far too much for your liking. Harsh, possessive, selfish and sometimes painfully cold. For someone like Jiyong, she felt like the wrong note in an otherwise perfectly composed song. She didn’t fit him and you thought that every single time you saw them together…

Maybe you were just biased, because hand on heart, none of the girls Jiyong ever dated felt good enough for him in your eyes…

Hana was unbelievably jealous and every woman around Jiyong was a problem and a threat to her. Especially you... And Jiyong had always been the kind of person who would sacrifice anything for the person he loved, because he was just that deeply caring and romantic. He saw her jealousy as proof of endless love and because of that, he slowly started distancing himself from you. Maybe not for himself, but for Hana... And you accepted it, because what else could you do? You always wanted what was best for him and if this was what he chose as his happiness, you weren’t going to stand in the way of it.

***

You’re folding freshly ironed laundry into your closet when a quiet knock echoes through your apartment. At first you think it’s just noise from the hallway, but a few moments later it comes again and louder this time. You place the folded shirt down on the bed and slowly walk toward the door. You’re not expecting anyone, almost never and definitely not at this hour of the night.

You open the door and your heart suddenly starts pounding faster, because Jiyong is standing there and for a second neither of you moves or says anything. He looks exhausted. His face is paler than you’ve ever seen it, his cheeks hollow and his entire body alarmingly thin. You notice it immediately because his clothes hang looser than they should. His hair is longer, messy, disheveled… probably from constantly running his hands through it without realizing. Even if you hadn’t noticed any of that, one look into his eyes would’ve been enough. They’re unnaturally red, like he’s been crying nonstop. The dark circles under them look deep enough that not even the best makeup artist in Korea could hide them.

Neither of you has spoken yet and Jiyong doesn’t seem capable of explaining what happened or why he came here, but judging by the state he’s in, you already know this isn’t something that can be solved standing in a doorway.

“Come in,” you say softly, stepping aside while Jiyong slowly drags himself inside with slumped shoulders, and you try to understand what the hell happened. How did the man who always overflowed with energy become this?

You close the door behind him and stay leaning against it for a moment, like you need a second to process everything happening in front of you. Meanwhile Jiyong walks over to your couch and stops there. He looks like a body without a soul, glancing around your living room slowly and uncertainly, like an animal released back into the wild after years in captivity, expected to suddenly know how to exist naturally again.

Only now do you notice his hoodie is soaked through from the heavy rain outside. You walk toward him because he must be freezing.

“You’re completely soaked,” you murmur quietly and more to yourself than to him. You point at his hoodie. “Take this off…”

Jiyong doesn’t protest, but he still can’t bring himself to look you in the eyes. His gaze stays lowered somewhere toward the pattern on your carpet. He slowly lifts his arms and you help him pull the hoodie over his head. The fabric is heavy, drenched with water and ice cold. When your fingers brush the bare skin of his back while taking it off, a wave of despair runs through you. He’s freezing and… so thin. Your hands pause against his hips for a second before you finally remove the hoodie completely.

His body is different from how you remember it. Frailer and more vulnerable.

“God, Jiyong…” you whisper before you can stop yourself, before you can remind yourself that your shock over how ruined he looks is something you should probably keep to yourself because saying it out loud won’t help him at all… but Jiyong doesn’t even seem to register your words.

He lets you help him out of the rest of his clothes without offering much assistance and just standing there silently until he’s left only in his boxers.

You grab the blanket from the couch and drape it over his shoulders so he’ll at least warm up a little.

“Wait here,” you say gently and nudging him toward the couch before heading into the bathroom. You turn on the water and let it run until the room fills with steam. The water is warm, not hot, just exactly what Jiyong’s freezing body needs right now. You pour in some bubble bath before returning to the living room.

Jiyong is exactly where you left him. Sitting hunched over on the couch and looking like he barely even registers what’s happening around him. Maybe he doesn’t even realize he’s here, like his feet simply carried him here automatically while his mind never caught up.

“Come on,” you say quietly and reaching your hand out to him. Jiyong stares at your hand like he’s not entirely sure what you want from him. Then his gaze slowly lifts from your hand to your eyes. It hurts to see him like this, and honestly, you’ve never seen him look this miserable before.

He slowly places his freezing hand into yours and stands and you lead him into the bathroom without another word. You bite your tongue because you desperately want to ask what happened, why he looks like this, and… why he waited so long before coming to you. But you know Jiyong too well. Pushing him will only make him shut down even more, so instead, you let silence settle between you. Safe and understanding…

The bathtub slowly fills with warm water and foam while Jiyong stands beside it staring blankly at the surface, like he doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do. Then he looks at you again and you realize it would probably be better to give him some privacy, at least until he gets in.

“I’ll… make tea,” you mumble and nodding toward the tub. “The bath’s ready.”

You head into the kitchen automatically and putting water on to boil before reaching for your box of tea. Leaning against the counter, you try to think about what you’ll do if you go back into the bathroom and Jiyong is still silent. There’s even the possibility that he’s still standing beside the tub without moving at all and that thought terrifies you even more. You’ve never been in a situation like this before. Jiyong has never been this destroyed, never so broken that he stayed silent no matter how much you spoke to him and you have no idea what to do with that, no idea how to help someone you love stop hurting.

You leave the hot tea on the counter and head back to the bathroom. Jiyong is already sitting stiffly in the tub full of foam, like his body still can’t fully relax. You kneel behind him beside the bathtub, dip a sponge into the water for a moment and then gently begin moving it across his back. Slow, soothing circles over his protruding spine and shoulder blades. You’ve never seen them this sharp before, he’s never been this frighteningly thin.

“You should eat more…” you murmur while continuing the slow movements across his back.

“I’m not hungry,” he replies quietly and firmly, like he doesn’t want any further discussion and you realize his body isn’t the only thing that’s broken. His voice is soft, uncertain… nothing like the Jiyong you’ve always known. It’s the first thing he’s said since coming here.

“Will you tell me what happened, Ji?”

“We broke up,” he mutters and pulling his knees closer to his chest. “Well… Hana broke up with me…”

Your hand keeps moving slowly over his back, no longer using the sponge now, just trying to warm his cold skin with your palm and the hot water. You stay silent, because saying things like: She wasn’t the right one, someone better is waiting for you, she didn’t deserve you… none of that means anything right now.

“Tilt your head back a little,” you tell him softly and he obeys immediately. You wash his messy hair with the kind of care you’d use while handling something impossibly fragile, something that could break with one wrong movement. And honestly, that’s exactly what this feels like. You watch his exhausted expression soften just slightly and some faint trace of relief appearing even if it’s still far from peaceful.

You don’t force him to keep talking, because it’s obvious his head is full of chaos he needs to process first. When you finally rinse him off and let him step out of the tub, his movements are even slower than before, like even that short moment of warmth exhausted him more than it should have. You hand him a towel and let him wrap himself in it, though even that seems mechanical rather than conscious. Eventually you guide him toward your bedroom without saying anything and your hand resting lightly against his back while he follows you without resistance.

He sits down on the bed and just stays there for a while. After a moment he picks up the tea you brought him, takes one small sip like it’s pure habit and then places it on the nightstand again. After that, he lets you ease him down onto the bed as if he no longer has the energy to make even simple decisions for himself. You pull the blanket over him, adjusting it around his shoulders before pausing for a second and watching him lying there with his eyes still open but distant.

“Try to get some sleep,” you say quietly.

He doesn’t answer. He simply turns onto his side with his back facing you and within minutes he’s asleep. You watch him longer than you’d ever admit. His breathing gradually slows, becoming steady and calmer than before. The tension slowly leaves his face, his jaw unclenches and the crease between his brows disappears. It’s like sleep briefly carried away everything weighing him down.

You sit on the edge of the bed and carefully brush your fingers through his hair, then over his cheek, lightly, barely there, just enough not to wake him. He’s warmer than before, but still not warm enough. You stay there a little longer before finally standing and turning off the lights.

***

You find Jiyong in the kitchen the next morning. He’s sitting at the table holding a mug of tea in both hands, staring ahead at nothing in particular. Relief washes over you at the realization that he at least managed to sleep a little. The healthy color still hasn’t fully returned to his face, but the emptiness in his eyes from last night isn’t quite as deep anymore. And the fact that he got up and made tea for himself makes warmth spread through your chest. He’s always acted at home around you, and you’ve always been the same around him.

You stay standing in the doorway for a moment and simply watching him. He’s wearing your old shirt and sweatpants you lent him last night and… suddenly he looks like that neighborhood boy again. If you had the power to go back in time, you know exactly where you’d return to. Right to those afternoons after school when you rode your bikes together and your rides usually ended near the edge of the forest neither of you ever dared to enter. You played tag, hide and seek, or sometimes just lay beneath the tall trees hiding from the hot summer sun.

You don’t bother making anything complicated for breakfast. Your only goal is to get Jiyong to eat something, so you reheat the leftovers from yesterday’s dinner. Just rice, vegetables, eggs and some meat.

“You need to eat something, Ji,” you sigh after his plate has been sitting untouched for several minutes, slowly getting cold again. “Don’t make me feed you myself…”

Jiyong finally starts eating and you watch with growing relief as the first bite disappears slowly, like he’s testing whether he can even swallow it. The second bite goes down easier and by the third he’s eating fast enough that the bowl is empty within minutes.

You carry your own empty bowl away before returning for his. Jiyong still sits there staring at the empty dish in front of him. You take it, but stay standing beside him for a moment. Your eyes drift to his hair, now too long and completely lacking shape. Without hesitation you run your fingers through it. This used to be completely normal between you. You’d always touched each other casually, even if you probably felt those moments more intensely than Jiyong ever did.

“Your hair…” you murmur softly while holding one messy strand between your fingers. Jiyong looks up at you. “It’s gotten too long,” you explain quietly. “Wait here...”

You don’t wait for his approval before heading into the bathroom to grab scissors and a comb.

Jiyong watches you without saying anything and without protesting. His gaze follows you until you stand behind him and drape a towel over his shoulders before slowly combing through his hair. It’s softer than you remember, or maybe you’d simply forgotten what it felt like before. You’d done this plenty of times in the past. You used to trim his hair whenever he complained his bangs were getting too long and blocking his vision. It was never a big deal. At least not to him.

To you, it always was…

You’d always had the urge to take care of Jiyong somehow. It never mattered what that care looked like as long as it meant he was close to you.

You work slowly, carefully and trimming only what’s necessary. No dramatic transformation, just enough to stop him from looking like someone who’s completely given up on himself. When you move around in front of him to fix the front strands, you have to stand much closer. You lean in slightly, holding his hair above his forehead with your fingers and for a second your eyes meet. It’s brief and quiet, but somehow it feels like the most comforting look the two of you could possibly share. Cutting his hair is such an ordinary thing, something so natural between you, that it restores at least a little normalcy to the situation.

You keep cutting carefully, slowly, like you’re afraid of disturbing the fragile peace that formed between you overnight. Strands of hair fall onto the towel and the floor while Jiyong sits perfectly still and only occasionally closing his eyes whenever the comb brushes against his temple.

When you’re done, you set the scissors aside. Standing in front of him you absentmindedly brush your hand along his jaw, over the short stubble there.

“Keep the stubble,” you say softly and your fingers still resting against his face while Jiyong finally looks up at you properly. You notice the tension in his shoulders ease just slightly. “It suits you better like this…”

***

The day passes slowly. Jiyong barely speaks and you don’t ask anything from him. You turn on the TV just so the apartment won’t feel completely silent, though neither of you actually watches whatever nonsense is playing. He sits on the couch staring blankly ahead for a while before leaning back more comfortably and sometime around noon he falls asleep with his head tilted back and lips slightly parted.

You drape a blanket over him carefully, trying not to touch him more than necessary, then remain sitting beside him for a while and watching the steady rise and fall of his chest. He looks calmer than he did last night. Not okay, just… calmer. Eventually you pull away and quietly continue with your own things, like you’re trying to protect the fragile peace surrounding him, like you know you might end up doing something you’ve wanted to do for far too long but have always been terrified of.

Outside it starts raining again sometime around four in the afternoon. Raindrops drum against the windows, the sound spreading throughout the apartment. Steady and comforting. You sit by the window with a book you aren’t actually reading, only holding it open while absentmindedly turning pages without knowing why. You listen to the rain and to Jiyong’s breathing from the couch behind you. The rhythm slowly sinks beneath your skin and calming you more than it should. Eventually you close your eyes for a moment.

Jiyong wakes up shortly before sunset. He lies there staring at the ceiling for a while like he’s trying to remember where he is, then slowly sits up and runs a hand through his hair before pausing and realizing it feels different. He turns toward you.

“How long was I asleep?”

“A few hours.”

He nods slowly, like he’s calculating it in his head. Silence settles between you again, though this time it isn’t as heavy as yesterday. Just… present. Then he looks back at you.

“Do you have beer?”

You smile faintly and nod toward the fridge. “Grab one for me too.”

Jiyong gets up without another word and walks toward the fridge with steadier steps than before. You watch him from where you’re sitting, noticing how much more he’s starting to resemble the Jiyong you’ve always known and loved most in this world. You’ve always loved him, always admired him.

Meanwhile Jiyong grabs two cans of beer from the fridge and walks back to the couch. Before sitting down, he pauses for a moment and staring at the floor. For a second, you think he wants to say something but can’t quite find the courage. Eventually he looks at you, hands you one of the cans and sits beside you again. Closer this time. The distance between you suddenly feels smaller in every possible way.

You open your beer first and take a sip. Jiyong rotates the can nervously in his hands for a while before opening his too. You watch his profile, his shoulders no longer as tense as they were yesterday and his fingers tapping restlessly against the cold aluminum.

“I’m sorry,” he says quietly after a while. He still isn’t looking at you. His eyes remain fixed on his fingers playing with the tab of the can.

“For what?”

“For… disappearing.” He pauses like he’s searching for the right words.

“You don’t have to apologize, Ji. In the short time I got to know Hana, I understood you probably didn’t have many other choices,” you say softly and trying to smile even though it still hurts. It hurts that Jiyong stood between choosing his childhood best friend and Hana, a woman he’d only known for a short time, and chose her…

“We’d been fighting for a while already…” he admits quietly. “I kept telling myself that if I just tried harder, things would get better. That if I gave her more time and attention, there wouldn’t be any reason to fight anymore... But after a while I realized I was the only one making compromises.” He takes a sip of beer. “And eventually I stopped knowing what she even wanted from me. Then I stopped knowing what I wanted too…”

His voice grows quieter with every word.

“Toward the end, I felt like I was just a problem for everyone…”

“You were never a problem, Jiyong,” you say immediately. “At least not to me. And you can’t talk about yourself like that. That fucking Hana completely destroyed your self-esteem.”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” he mutters before draining the rest of his beer. “I feel like the most pathetic loser in the world. I ignored every single one of your messages while I was dating Hana, and the second my life falls apart, I come running here because I don’t have anywhere else to go.” He lets out a bitter laugh and crushes the empty beer can in his hand hard enough to deform it. “I’m such a fucking asshole…”

If someone stabbed you in the chest right now, it would hurt less than hearing those words come out of his mouth. You notice the shift in his body language immediately, how restless he suddenly becomes before standing abruptly. Without another word he grabs the hoodie that had dried by now and heads quickly toward the hallway like he’s about to leave.

“Jiyong!” you call out almost desperately.

He stops and turns his head toward you. You stand up from the couch and walk toward him. When you’re only a few steps away, you finally gather the courage to continue.

“Do you remember what you told me when we were eight and that girl from our class kept bullying me?”

You give him only a second to let the memory return.

“You were so angry at me for not telling you sooner so you could do something about it…” You take another step closer until you’re standing directly in front of him and forcing yourself to tilt your head slightly to look him in the eyes. “You told me I should never be afraid to say the truth out loud. That I should always say things honestly…”

His eyes shine again, like all the care and comfort you gave him meant nothing against the damage already living inside him. Like his confidence and soul are too broken for one night of warmth to fix.

Your lips tremble slightly when your eyes drop to his mouth completely involuntarily before quickly returning to his gaze.

“I… I don’t know if I can say everything honestly,” you whisper and your cheeks burning. “But if I don’t say it now, I probably never will…”

You lower your eyes for a moment and suddenly questioning whether this is really the right moment for a confession like this. Maybe you already regret starting at all.

“I—”

Before you can finish, Jiyong drops the hoodie from his hands onto the floor, cups your face in both palms and kisses you.

Your eyes widen in shock as you stare at his tightly shut eyelids and trembling lashes. His lips are unbelievably soft and the warmth of his hands against your face feels so safe and overwhelming that you instinctively close your eyes and part your lips for him. Jiyong exhales softly the moment your tongues meet in the most intense kiss you’ve ever experienced in your life.

After a few moments Jiyong slowly pulls away and opens his eyes again and immediately searching for yours.

“Would it be easier for you to say it now?” he asks quietly.

“Does this mean…?” You can’t bring yourself to finish the question because you’re too distracted by Jiyong’s hand slowly brushing against your cheek while the other gently runs through your hair.

Jiyong simply nods without taking his eyes off you.

“Why… why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I’m a coward,” Jiyong answers simply with a small shrug.

“You were never a coward, Jiyong.”

“I always was around you,” he says quietly, but there’s certainty in his voice. “I spent years looking for the perfect girl while she was standing right in front of me the whole time…” His thumb brushes slowly across your parted lips before he rests his forehead against yours.

For a moment you can only stand there trying to process everything he just said before finally gripping the fabric of his shirt and kissing him again.

The kissing gradually turns messier, more desperate and you slowly start backing toward the couch without ever breaking the kiss.

A few moments later you’re sitting beside each other again, kissing nonstop while slowly pulling each other’s clothes off until both of you are left in only your underwear. Jiyong’s kisses trail down your jaw and across your neck, making your head fall back. One of his hands moves across your back and his fingers circling the clasp of your bra like he’s waiting for permission to finally take it off.

“Then take it off already,” you mumble impatiently when the waiting becomes unbearable.

“You’re so impatient,” he laughs softly against your neck, but he obeys anyway and unclasping your bra with practiced ease before sliding it off your shoulders.

He leans back slightly afterward, openly admiring you and the intensity of his gaze makes heat rush into your cheeks.

Then he kisses you again while his hand gently glides across the sensitive skin of your breast. He presses lightly against you until you’re lying down beneath him on the couch.

Kneeling over you, he slowly drags his palm along your side.

“You’re beautiful…” he murmurs before lowering himself almost completely on top of you. He leaves only enough space between your bodies to slide his hand down your stomach toward the waistband of your panties. Your faces are only inches apart when you gasp and tilt your head back because his fingers slip beneath the fabric without warning and find you already wet and waiting for him.

At the same time you can feel his hard cock pressed against your thigh and you don’t know which sensation overwhelms you more.

“Do you want me?” he whispers against your lips while slowly pushing two fingers inside you, preparing you for him. “Do you want me as much as I want you?”

“Yeah… God, I want you so much,” you breathe out shakily while your hips instinctively move against his hand. “I’ve always wanted you…”

After a few moments Jiyong slowly pulls his fingers out of you before bringing them to his mouth and slipping them between his lips. You stare at him completely fascinated while your heartbeat nearly spirals out of control.

“You taste so sweet,” he murmurs before kissing you again. “I think I need more.”

His kisses trail down from your mouth across your chest and stomach until he finally reaches between your thighs. He pulls your panties off slowly before looking up at you one last time and burying his mouth between your legs.

Your head falls back immediately and a sharp moan leaves your lips the second his tongue touches your clit for the first time.

“Fuck…” you gasp while tangling your fingers in his hair.

“You’re so sweet, sweetheart,” he murmurs against your skin while his tongue moves slowly through your folds, making it almost impossible to breathe. “So fucking perfect… all mine…”

Your hips lift instinctively toward his mouth while your fingers tug lightly at his hair.

The moment your moans grow more desperate, Jiyong pulls away just long enough to kneel up and shove his boxers down his legs. Then he’s back between your thighs again and hovering above you.

He braces himself on his elbows beside your head and kisses you deeply once more. His lips are warm and wet and taste like you. One of his hands guides his cock toward your entrance, teasing you with it for a moment before he slowly pushes inside. Both of you exhale at the same time when he finally bottoms out completely inside you.

“Y/N…” he breathes shakily against your mouth, and hearing your name like that almost sounds heavenly coming from him.

You wrap your legs around his waist and lift your head enough to kiss him again. Jiyong begins moving slowly inside you and you can’t stop staring at his face. His eyes stay locked on yours, lips slightly parted while every expression crosses openly over his features. You notice the crease forming between his brows as he focuses on every movement and every reaction you give him.

Your head falls back when his rhythm starts becoming uneven and the pressure building inside you quickly turns into something overwhelming.

“Jiyong…” you gasp while your nails dig into his sides and your hips move desperately against his.

Jiyong’s breathing grows shorter and shorter, soft moans slipping from his lips as he gets closer too.

“Look at me, Y/N,” he whispers almost desperately and his dark eyes are fixed completely on you. Honestly just looking at him like this could probably make you come on its own.

A loud moan leaves your lips as the orgasm crashes through you. Your muscles tighten around him and Jiyong thrusts into you a few more times with a low groan before finally coming too.

He lowers his head afterward, clearly using every bit of strength he has left to keep himself propped above you before eventually collapsing beside you on the couch.

He reaches for the blanket draped over the backrest and pulls it over both of you while your breathing slowly starts settling again.

After a while you turn onto your side and Jiyong mirrors you immediately. The two of you lie facing each other in silence until Jiyong finally breaks it.

“Promise me you’ll always tell me everything honestly from now on,” he murmurs softly while reaching out from beneath the blanket to rest his hand against your cheek.

You look at him quietly for a moment before answering.

“I promise… but you have to promise me something too.” You place your hand over his and press it more firmly against your face. “Promise me you’ll never doubt yourself again or call yourself the things you said earlier.”

Jiyong lifts your hand to his lips and kisses it gently.

“I promise,” he whispers.

Then he shifts closer beneath the blanket and his clumsy movements making you laugh softly.

“You know you’re charming under literally any circumstances, right?” you mumble while hiding the lower half of your face beneath the blanket so only your eyes remain visible.

Jiyong smiles faintly at you.

“I think you’re the one with the magic power here…” he says quietly. “You somehow managed to turn the worst day of my life into the best one…” He presses a kiss against your forehead before pulling you into his arms. “Thank you for that…”

Jiyong was supposed to have your daughter for another three hours, but work came up, or more specifically, his manager called him about the tour that had already been announced. Even though you and Jiyong are no longer together, you are still tied to each other through your daughter Saerom. Your amazing daughter who reminds you of Jiyong in every possible way whenever you look at her. She is your princess and the most beautiful thing that came out of your relationship, even if the relationship itself didn’t survive.

You only found out you were pregnant after the two of you had already broken up. The breakup itself wasn’t dramatic at all. You both acted reasonably and maturely, and you saw the pregnancy as the symbolic end of one chapter of your lives together while simultaneously opening another one.

Jiyong was truly amazing throughout your pregnancy and helped you with everything you needed while you were carrying Saerom. He supported you emotionally, financially and simply by being there for you and your unborn daughter. Sometimes you catch yourself wondering what things would have been like if you hadn’t broken up… Your breakup was the result of his endlessly packed schedule and exhaustion. Other than that, the two of you understood each other in every way possible. Ironically, it still ended the way it did…

“I wanted to… I wanted to ask you if I could take Saerom for the weekend this time,” Jiyong says just as you are about to hang up. “One of my performances got moved, so I actually have this weekend free. I’d like to take her to Jeju. I promised her a while ago.”

Weekends were always yours. Always. Unlike Jiyong’s schedule, your work schedule was stable and predictable and weekends were almost always free for you.

At the mention of Jeju, your chest tightens as memories of all the beautiful and loving moments you shared there with Jiyong come rushing back. The two of you used to fly there often whenever he managed to clear a little space in his schedule. Since your breakup, you haven’t been back to Jeju even once…

“Of course,” you answer simply before the two of you finally hang up.

For a moment you sit down on the edge of your bed and stare blankly ahead. Everything that happened keeps replaying inside your head, accompanied by a faint wave of nostalgia. Jiyong will be here soon and you suddenly remember all the times you used to wait for him inside his penthouse while he came home after another exhausting day. As draining and difficult as those days were for both of you, sometimes you still miss that stress and tension.

“Y/N?”

You lift your head from the folded shirt resting in your lap and look toward Jim, who has apparently been standing in the bedroom doorway for a while now. You’ve only been dating for a short time and today the two of you were supposed to spend the afternoon together, but something came up for Jim too and now he has to leave. Sometimes it feels like this pattern keeps repeating itself in your life. Nobody ever seems to have as much time for you as you want them to. Or maybe you’re just selfish and when you love someone, your expectations become too big. It’s hard to tell. Maybe the problem is you…

“What?” you ask distractedly.

“I asked if you needed help with anything,” Jim repeats patiently as he walks over to you.

“No… no, it’s okay. Jiyong called and said he’s bringing Saerom back already.”

A moment later, the silence is interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. You walk over and open the door.

“Hi, eomma!” Saerom squeals excitedly, not even waiting for your response before slipping past your legs and running into the apartment like a hurricane.

“Hi, Y/N,” Jiyong smiles softly as he hands you the backpack Saerom brought with her, the same backpack you always pack whenever she stays with him for more than a day.

“Hi, Jiyong,” you answer quietly and you still feeling lost in the memories and thoughts that overwhelmed you back in the bedroom. You take the backpack from his hand and place it beside the shoe cabinet before your eyes drift toward his hoodie, or more specifically, toward the very visible stain splattered across the front of it.

“What’s that?” you ask and pointing at the mark with your finger.

“Oh…Saerom wanted ice cream and… well…” Jiyong shrugs and not needing to finish the sentence because his expression says enough on its own.

“I see. So the ice cream ended up on your hoodie instead of in her mouth,” you shake your head in disbelief before stepping aside. “Come inside. I’ll clean it.”

“No, it’s fine, really. You don’t have to, because—”

“Y/N?”

Jim’s voice suddenly comes from behind you and after a second his gaze shifts toward Jiyong. The two of them have never actually met before. There was never a reason or even an opportunity for it. Out of the corner of your eye, you notice Jiyong straighten slightly, his shoulders pulling back almost instinctively.

“Oh…ehm…hi,” Jim says awkwardly while looking at Jiyong before nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I just wanted to say I really have to go now, Y/N. I’ll call you tonight.”

Then he leans down and kisses your hair gently. You only nod and step aside so he can slip past you and leave the apartment.

“That was…?” Jiyong asks without finishing the sentence.

“Jim,” you answer simply, offering no further explanation and probably sounding a little too firm in an attempt to remind Jiyong that it’s none of his business anymore. Not now.

“R-right, okay,” Jiyong mutters quietly, and neither of you move or speak for a few painfully long seconds until you finally decide to break the silence yourself.

“So what about the hoodie? Come inside and let me clean it. You can’t go anywhere looking like that. It’ll only take a minute…” you add softly with a faint smile because no matter how hard you try, you’ve never been able to stay angry or cold toward him for very long. Not with that expression you know so well.

After hesitating for a moment, Jiyong finally agrees and walks into your apartment. You lead him into the living room and tell him to take off his hoodie and sit down on the couch. Without another word, Jiyong listens.

“So… that Jim guy... Have you been together long?” Jiyong asks casually while pulling his hoodie over his head. Even though your tone earlier made it more than obvious that you didn’t want him asking about Jim, you know Jiyong far too well to believe he would actually let it go.

“Not really. We’ve only been seeing each other for a little while…” you answer vaguely without looking at him.

“Are you happy?” Jiyong suddenly asks.

Your eyes immediately lift toward him in surprise because honestly, that wasn’t the question you expected from him. You notice his expression isn’t nearly as relaxed or cheerful as it was before Jim appeared in the doorway.

“What?”

“Are you happy?”

“I… I think so… maybe…” you answer uncertainly before lowering your gaze again. You don’t really have an answer to that question because yes, you are happy. You have Saerom, your beautiful little princess, the best thing that ever happened to you... But at the same time, it still feels like something is missing from your life… something you used to have and somehow lost along the way.

Part of you wants to ask if Jiyong is happy too, but you can’t bring yourself to do it. You’re too afraid of whatever answer he might give you. So instead, you head into the bathroom to grab something that might help remove the stain from his hoodie before returning to the living room.

“Do you want anything? Coffee, tea, water? Or are you hungry?” you ask automatically.

“No, don’t worry about it. I’m fine,” Jiyong replies calmly and shifting slightly where he sits.

“Appa hasn’t eaten anything since this morning,” Saerom suddenly announces from beside him and immediately confirming the suspicion you already had.

Jiyong really does look more exhausted than usual, maybe even thinner. This had always been one of his biggest problems whenever he got too deeply invested in work. Back then, though, he had you beside him, and somehow you always managed to make sure he at least ate properly, slept enough, and remembered to take care of himself instead of dedicating every second of his life to work.

Jiyong doesn’t react to Saerom’s comment at all. He simply stretches one arm toward her and Saerom immediately climbs onto the couch beside him without a second of hesitation. She’s holding the giant teddy bear Jiyong gave her for her birthday last month, the same teddy bear that has become her favorite companion ever since. If she could, she would probably take it to kindergarten with her every single day.

“That’s what I thought,” you mumble with a knowing smile toward Saerom before draping Jiyong’s cleaned hoodie over the back of a chair. “It should dry soon,” you add before heading into the kitchen to warm up the rice and meat left over from lunch earlier that day.

When you return to the living room with the plate, you place it down in front of Jiyong.

“Appa promised we’re flying to Jeju on Friday!” Saerom blurts out excitedly as she climbs off the couch and moves over to your armchair before curling up in your lap.

“I know,” you smile softly while brushing your fingers through her hair before your gaze drifts toward Jiyong again. He’s watching the two of you carefully. “Eat,” you nod toward the plate in front of him. “I’m not reheating it twice.”

Jiyong hesitates for a second before finally nodding because he knows there’s no point arguing with you when you use that tone.

“You’re really going to like Jeju. It’s beautiful there,” you tell Saerom while gently flicking her nose.

“You’ve been there?” Saerom asks with wide eyes. “What’s it like?”

“It’s beautiful… There are huge waterfalls, beaches… it feels like something out of a fairytale,” you answer dreamily. “There are so many beautiful places there. Appa is definitely going to take you to some of them.”

Saerom stares at you with that sparkle in her eyes, the kind of vivid imagination she clearly inherited from Jiyong because you never had that ability yourself. You could never truly picture places you’d never seen before. After a moment, her gaze shifts toward him instead.

“Appa, eomma should come with us too if she likes it there that much!” she says excitedly and already imagining the perfect little family trip in her head.

You’re about to respond, but Jiyong speaks first.

“She could… but I’m guessing she probably already has better plans for the weekend...”

Your eyes immediately lift from Saerom to Jiyong. The shift in his tone is impossible to miss and it echoes unpleasantly in your ears. You know that tone. Most of your arguments used to start exactly like this. The two of you didn’t fight often, but when you did, it never ended well.

“Saerom,” you lean down closer to her ear. “Why don’t you go unpack your backpack in your room, okay?”

Saerom nods innocently and runs off toward her room completely unaware of the conversation that’s about to unfold in the living room.

You wait until her bedroom door closes before walking toward the window and turning your back to Jiyong.

“What is this really about, Jiyong?”

“Nothing important, really. I just thought maybe we could finally be a normal family again someday,” he replies quietly. “But apparently that’s not something you want if you’re already bringing random guys into your apartment.”

You immediately turn toward him in disbelief. Those words hurt, they hurt far more than they should.

“What? Jiyong, I’ve been alone for five years. I’ve dedicated all my attention to our daughter, just like you have. And now, after five years, you’re seriously saying this to me? Do you understand that I don’t want to be alone forever? That I want to be happy again?”

“When I asked if you are happy earlier, you didn’t sound very convincing,” Jiyong says as he slowly rises from the couch and walks closer to you. “And then there’s your Jim or whatever his name is. Do you seriously think he’s going to bring happiness into your life?”

“What exactly do you want from me, Jiyong? Everything was working until now. All these years, everything was working, and the moment I try to be happy again, you suddenly start acting jealous?”

“Yeah, yeah, I am jealous,” Jiyong snaps before taking another step closer to you. “Because I love our daughter and I love you, and I’m not going to sit there and pretend I’m okay with some idiot helping raise my family when he—”

“Stop talking about him like he’s an idiot, Jiyong. It’s beneath you,” you interrupt quietly while watching him move even closer.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry, I got carried away, but…” He exhales shakily before running a hand through his hair. “Can we start over?”

“What?” You stare at him in complete disbelief. “You’re saying this now? After all this time?”

“Yeah…” Jiyong lets out a humorless laugh and briefly looks away from you like he needs a second to gather his thoughts. “I know I’m an idiot, but… we’re still in each other’s lives every single day. We understand each other, we communicate well, and today… when I saw him standing next to you, I realized I don’t want this anymore.”

He pauses for a second before continuing more quietly.

“My biggest dream was always a family. A real family... A family full of love, a family that stays together. Family means everything to me and I don’t want anyone else becoming part of ours.”

His eyes finally lift back to yours.

“And yes, I’m jealous. I’m insanely jealous because the two of you have always been the people I loved most in this world and you always will be.”

“Jiyong, do you realize how absurd this sounds?” you ask softly, and this time there’s no anger left in your voice, only exhaustion. Exhaustion from the horrible timing that has followed the two of you your entire lives. “If you hadn’t brought Saerom home early today and if you hadn’t seen Jim here, you never would’ve said any of this to me.”

Jiyong stays quiet for a moment and simply looking at you with that gaze you know better than your own reflection. The same gaze that used to make your knees weak years ago and somehow still does.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admits quietly. “Maybe I needed to actually feel terrified for once, terrified that I could really lose you.”

You close your eyes briefly and let out a quiet laugh under your breath because this is exactly who Jiyong is. Honest only when things are already dangerously close to falling apart. Or maybe not too late yet.

“That’s not exactly a romantic confession,” you mutter once the silence between you stretches too long.

A small smile appears on Jiyong’s face as he shakes his head. “You know I was never good at normal things.”

“That’s definitely true.”

Silence settles between you again and your eyes drift back to his. They’re still the same... Deep, honest, carrying that strange spark that used to keep you afloat during the worst moments of your life.

“I don’t want to spend my nights alone in an empty penthouse again, waiting to see whether your schedule might magically change and whether you’ll somehow find time for me… for us,” you admit quietly after a while. “I don’t want to fall asleep with my phone in my hand hoping you’ll call and tell me you’re finally on your way home.”

You see Jiyong’s body tense slightly, almost the same way it tensed earlier when he saw Jim kiss your hair.

“I know.”

“And I definitely don’t want to be the person you suddenly remember only after seeing another man standing next to me,” you add firmly.

For a few seconds, the two of you simply stand there facing each other before Jiyong does something you never expected him to do. At least not now, not after all these years. He doesn’t try to kiss you, he doesn’t pull you into his arms, he simply reaches for your hand and carefully intertwines his fingers with yours.

“Let me try again,” he says softly. “This time properly. Give me a chance… give us a chance.”

Your throat tightens painfully at his words and suddenly you become hyperaware of his fingers intertwined with yours, of the way he gently squeezes your hand like he’s trying to reassure himself that this is real, that neither of you is imagining this moment.

“Eomma! Appa! Look what I found!”

Saerom’s voice echoes through the apartment as she runs out of her room and into the living room holding an old polaroid in her hand. She comes to an abrupt stop halfway across the room the second she notices your intertwined hands.

“You’re holding hands!”

You immediately let go of Jiyong’s hand and take a small step away from him while Jiyong lowers his head slightly. Honestly, the two of you probably look like teenagers who just got caught doing something they shouldn’t have been doing, which only makes Saerom giggle even more.

“Let me see what you found,” you say after a moment and trying to redirect her attention as you take the polaroid from her hand.

The edges are slightly bent, but that doesn’t change the fact that the polaroid shows you and Jiyong together in Jeju. Your memory is far too good not to recognize it immediately. The polaroid was taken during your last trip to Jeju together, shortly before the breakup. Maybe you were already pregnant when that moment was captured…

“So you do love each other…” Saerom says quietly while you continue staring down at the polaroid in your hands.

You can feel Jiyong’s breath against the side of your neck as he leans over your shoulder to look at it too and you can’t help wondering if he’s thinking about the exact same thing you are right now.

“Does that mean we’re all flying to Jeju together?” Saerom asks again, this time more seriously and without the teasing laughter from before. Her cheeks puff out slightly in annoyance because neither of you answered her properly.

You slowly lift your gaze toward Jiyong and search his eyes like they might somehow hold the answers to every question currently running through your head. His eyes glisten faintly and you have a feeling that seeing the polaroid brought back the exact same flood of memories for him that it did for you.

“We’ll see,” you finally whisper after a long moment and giving Jiyong a hopeful smile through tear-filled eyes. “Maybe we will…”

When COVID happened and their dreams got crushed, you’d been there for him. You moved into his apartment right at the height of lockdown. While this had seemed to break most couples, it only made you stronger.

He’d started writing songs again, inspired by BigBang’s almost comeback and you went with him while he recorded his parts of the Still Life video, watching him work for the first time. He got a bit of his spark back, that however changed when Seunghyun called him. Told him that he was viewing the song and video as his goodbye. He needed more time and realistically couldn’t work under their current label anymore. 

Jiyong had understood, but you could tell he was sad. Mostly in the fact that his best friend's talent was being locked away because of a mistake. You had grown to care for Seunghyun over the last few years of knowing him, and you too, felt the heartbreak of that goodbye. 

That hadn’t stopped him from creating, suddenly years of shared memories together - his most recently scandal that has led him to turning himself in and being found innocent, had all inspired him. He’d written so many songs, recorded a handful of them and you couldn’t be more proud. 

You were laying in bed, finally getting around to reading the newest Hunger Games book when Jiyong finally came home from another late night studio session. He looked exhausted as he crawled into bed next to you. 

“Whatcha reading?” He asked as his chin rested on your shoulder. 

“Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes.” He kissed your cheek, his eyes scanning the page you were reading. 

“About time, Jagi. It’s only been sitting there for three years” 

“I was scared they were going to make Snow likeble.” You grinned, closing the page to fully face him. “How did it go today?” 

“I finished.” 

“The album?!” Your eyes widened, you were so excited for him. 

“Yeah.” He didn’t seem to match your excitement. 

“Ji, Oppa, what’s wrong?”  He leaned back against the headboard with a sigh. 

“I’m scared, I guess.” 

“Oh I’m sure the album is great and the fans are going to love it.” 

“No, not about that.” You tilted your head, eyebrow raised in confusion. 

“Then what?”

“I don’t want to lose this. Us. I don’t want to stop being Jiyong. I like this quiet little life we’ve built together. The one where you read questionable books and I watch the news while we sip coffee in the mornings. Lunch dates because we can, surprising you at work when your shift ends on a Friday to take you away for the wedding. Family events, all of it.” He slung back in defeat and you scooted closer to him. 

“Why would you ever think you’d lose that? Us? This?” He looked at you, a sad smile on his face. 

“You’ve never had to date G-Dragon. You don’t know what releasing this album is going to do. My contract with Galaxy requires a lot of performances. A word tour. And I’ve been talking with the guys they really want to get BigBang back together, at least for our twentieth.” 

“Jiyong, hey. Look at me.” He refused to look up, so you crawled into his lap, your hands cradling his face. “I’m not scared of G-Dragon, or his schedule or his fans. I love you and I’m so incredibly proud of you. For both making an album that I know your proud of and for taking the time to heal yourself. We’re going to find a way to make it work when the time is right, ok? I’ll go to as many stops along the tour as I can. I’ll be by your side through the whole thing. Don’t give up on this because you’re afraid of what’s going to happen to us. Have some faith in the relationship we’ve built.” 

Jiyong looked at you, his eyes filled with unshed tears as he leaned in, kissing you softly. How he’d gotten so lucky to find someone like you, he didn’t know. But god was he thankful.

“What if I don’t know how to be G-Dragon anymore?” You shrugged as you crawled off him. 

“He’ll come back. You just have to get out there and try.”  

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

Even though Jiyong had said the album was finished you quickly came to realize he meant he had the final track list of songs he wanted to include done. Every day he spent hours in the home studio listening and cutting, making changes to each song. You knew Jiyong was a perfectionist, you just had never seen it up close before. 

It had been a few months of late night edits when you finally decided you’d had enough. You sat your newest read down on the coffee table and made your way to his editing studio, the cats following like you were their leader. 

“Ji, come on. That’s enough for today.” He took his headphones off just as Zoa jumped onto the desk. 

“Okay.” He rubbed his eyes, picked up Zoa and followed you back down the hallway. 

You sat in a comfortable silence for a bit before you picked up your phone to order food. A little while later you laid the takeout in front of you, it was all mostly for Jiyong. If he was going to be working like this he needed to eat. He raised a brow at you before picking up one of the containers and started eating. 

You curled up against him, turned on his newest obsession movie and before too long you were both relaxed. So much so that you both fell asleep on the couch. You awoke in the middle of the night to Iye pawing at you and you yawned. 

“Ji, come on. Let’s go to bed.”

 He blinked as he adjusted to the darkness and carefully got off the couch. You both crawled into bed and you made a metal note to make sure you kept him fed and rested. Especially if once the album dropped he wasn’t going to use much time for anything else. You could at least control it for now. 

The next several weeks flew by and before you knew it, Jiyong was having his first stage appearance in years. He hadn’t been sure he was going to do it when Youngbae had asked. He excused himself to use the restroom but you knew.

You watched the fans explode into cheers and applause when he took the stage, you were beaming with pride. For someone who was afraid to get G-Dragon back, he hadn’t missed a beat on stage. 

“You were amazing!” You beamed. 

“Thanks, Jagiya.” He gave you a soft smile before turning his attention to the group. 

His hand found yours under the table and he gave it a tight squeeze. You were currently at Youngbae’s after party and everyone was having animated conversations about the performance. It was nice to see Jiyong light up again. You knew he missed performing. You also knew what many at the table didn’t - the first single would be out in a month. You were so proud of him. 

The rest of the night was spent celebrating the end of a successful tour for Youngbae and an optimistic welcome back for Jiyong. You’d never been to one of these events before, not really but you enjoyed it. You knew Jiyong was scared that you wouldn’t like dating G-Dragon but you loved him, all of him. Even if that meant in a few short months you’d be sharing him with the world fully. 

You both crawled into bed at an ungodly hour and curled up next to each other. The tv light the only thing shining in the room. Jiyong held you close, his eyes focused on you and you cradled his face. 

“You really were amazing tonight.” You leaned in pecking his lips. 

He held you close to him for a while, kissing you slowly, his hand cradling the back of your head. He was still scared, scared you wouldn’t want this, scared of who he’d become this time around. He didn’t want you to know the bad parts of him, he didn’t want you to see him the way he was before. Maybe this time with you by his side he’d been different. 

The tour dates had already been mapped out. Carefully picked around your work schedule so you could go to all the shows. The festivals would be tricky but he knew you’d find a way to make it work. 

“I love you.” He whispered as he pulled you into his chest. 

“I love you too.” 

A month later when Power dropped, you were right by his side. You watched the numbers rise on the video, sat next to him as he watched it for the first time. A grin on your face. You’d been with him at the video shoot, and even though you knew what to expect the video has still passed your wildest imagination. 

One thing was for sure after this day, G-Dragon was back and everything was about to change. Jiyong looked pleased with the result, with the fan comments rolling in. The work was far from over but you knew you both could handle whatever came your way. 

“Mind if I join you?” You froze, wine glass at your lips. You’d recognize that voice anywhere. 

“Go ahead.” You waved to the spot next to you, not looking at him. 

You’d spent the entire evening a safe distance from Kwon Jiyong. He was your bias, always had been. You chanced a glance at him to see him spark up a cigarette and licked your lips. He looked even better up close, his typical off day stubble present on his face. He took a drag of the cigarette, eyes darting to you and you looked down quickly, face hot with embarrassment for getting caught. 

“How do you know Daesung?” 

“Old friend.” You shrugged. Jiyong nodded and took a step closer to you. 

“I’ve never seen you at his parties before.” His eyes were full of wonder, as if he was trying to figure you out.

“Work usually gets in the way.” 

“What do you do?” 

“I write books.” Jiyong raised a brow. 

“Anything I’d know?” 

“Doubtful.” He smirked, put out his cigarette and turned to you fully. 

“I’m Jiyong.” 

“I know who you are.” 

“Really?” You nodded and he sighed. “That’s too bad.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“I have this rule about fans.” He shrugged. “And I came out here to flirt with you.” He pushed himself off the railing. 

“And who said I’m a fan?” He turned back to you, eyes wide. “Everyone in Korea knows who you are.” He rolled his eyes, a surprised laugh bubbling out of him. 

“So you’re not a fan?” 

“Oh, I’m definitely a fan. But I don’t have a shrine to you in my room or anything.” You shrugged. “You were going to flirt with me?” It was Jiyong’s turn to blush and he nodded. 

“You caught my eye when you walked in. Been wanting to talk to you all night.” 

“Yeah?”

“I like beautiful things.” You snorted. 

“Is that the best you got?” 

“It usually works.” He smirked, moving closer to you. “Do you want to go back to my place? Get to know each other better?” 

You pretended to think it over. In reality, you were trying to find a way to sneak past Daesung unnoticed. He’d never let you leave with Jiyong, or anyone from his group for that matter. This was Jiyong though, and it would be stupid to not take him up on his offer. After a few seconds, you nodded. 

“Meet me out front in five.” Jiyong smirked and headed back inside. 

You didn’t say anything on the ride to his apartment. The occasional glances at each other said more than words ever good. The second you were alone his lips were on yours. You welcomed it hungrily, had dreamed of moments like this for a long time. Jiyong walked you backwards through his penthouse, clothes discarded quickly as you went. 

Before you knew it, you were both naked, bodies pressed together inches from his bed. He worked quickly, you had to give him that. He pushed you backwards onto the bed and climbed on top of you, you shook your head and he backed off. 

“What? Did I do something?” 

“No. I just thought we were getting to know each other first.” He raised a brow. “Lay down.” 

Jiyong obliged, laying on his back and you smirked at him. You turned your body, and positioned yourself so that you were hovering over his face. You dared one quick glance at him before you leaned down, your face mere inches from his hard cock. 

“God damn.” He groaned, reaching for your hips.

You lowered your hips, your slick folds rubbing across his lips as your mouth wrapped around his cock. You both moaned as you took him in your mouth inch by inch, his tongue darting out to lick through your slick. 

You knew Jiyong had this reputation to be good at everything but you hadn’t expected his tongue to be this skilled. Your bodies moved quickly against each other as if you were trying to outdo each other. An unspoken challenge to see who could get the other one off first. 

Your work was sloppy, the feel of his tongue on your clit too good for you to be anything other than putty in his hands. Your tongue circled the head of his cock before you took him as far as you could, the tip hitting the back of your throat as you let out a moan. He moaned in respond, his tongue moving quicker. 

You came undone, your legs clenching around him as your body shook with wave after wave of pleasure. You head bobbing up and down on his cock until you tasted his release on your tongue. You swallowed every last drop and moved your body, wiping at your mouth as you turned to face Jiyong. 

You flipped around to straddle his lap, a devilish smirk on your face as you leaned in to kiss him. You could taste yourself on his tongue and moaned in his mouth. This was by far one of the best nights of your life. You had to take full advantage of this opportunity that was given to you, you knew it wouldn’t happen again. 

Your hips grinded into his and you could feel him getting hard beneath you. He had one hand tangled in your hair, keeping your head in place as he broke the kiss, his lips biting and licking down your neck. He was careful not to leave marks as he made trail down to your breasts. 

He took his time, exploring each one as you positioned yourself over him. His eyes locked on yours, encouraging you to continue and you lowered yourself slowly. Your walls tightened around him as you adjusted to the feel of his cock inside you. 

You began moving your hips slowly and Jiyong tightened his grip on you as he bit down gently on your nipple. You let out a soft gasp and arched, pushing your breast further into his mouth as you set a steady pace.  Jiyong moved his head, biting down on your shoulder as he let out a groan. 

“Just like that, Jagi.” He whispered in your ear before biting down on your earlobe. 

It didn’t take long before you both came undone again. A loud moan escaping your lips that Jiyong silenced with a kiss. You crawled off him, laying back on the bed, trying to catch your breath. He turned slightly to face you. 

“We should have sex in every inch of this hotel room.” You smirked. It was meant to be a joke but when your eyes locked with Jiyong’s you could see the determination in them. 

Without another word, he reached for you, picked you up off the bed and practically slammed you into the sliding glass door leading to the balcony. Neither of you slept that night, you were too busy having sex in every room. You couldn’t keep your hands off each other. 

When the sun rose, you slid your clothes back on, kissed him goodbye and slid out of the apartment. You were sore, exhausted, and maybe a little sad that your time together was over. At 26 you’d finally had the best sex of your life and go figure you’d never be able to see him again. 

A week went by and you attempted to get back to normal life. You still thought about Jiyong, you hadn’t been lying when you said you were a fan of his but it was different now. You knew what it felt like to have him inside of you, to be so  intimate with someone and then go back to pretending like you didn’t know them was an extremely hard game to play. 

When Daesung invited you to go to their last rehearsal before they left for Coachella you knew it was a bad idea. But he had your wristband for the last weekend of Coachella and you needed to get it anyway. You figured the night you shared with Jiyong was the norm for him and he wouldn’t remember you anyway. 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

Jiyong, as it turns out, hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you. Or talking about you. Youngbae and Daesung has repeatedly reminded him that the point of one night stands was exactly that. And if he liked you so much he should’ve gotten your number. 

The guys, busy in rehearsal mode had stopped for a break, Jiyong and Youngbae were sitting at the production table while Daesung spoke to a couple of dancers. The door opened and a couple of people walked in. Jiyong did a double take, his eyes widened when he saw you. 

“That’s her.” He whispered to Youngbae. 

“The girl standing next to Daesung’s cousin?” 

“Wait, that blonde girl is Daesung’s cousin?” Youngbae laughed. 

“No. That’s Daesung’s cousin’s best friend.” He paused. “Did you hook up with Daesung’s cousin?”

“I didn’t know that she was his cousin! She said she was an old friend of his.” Jiyong hadn’t realized Daesung had made his way to the table until he heard the younger man’s voice. 

“What do you mean you hooked up with Y/N?!” You paused in the doorway, eyes wide. He’d remembered you? 

“I didn’t know, Daesung, I swear.” Daesung glared at Jiyong before snatching the wristbands off the table. 

“I can’t believe you’d do this.” He pushed the wristband into your hand and you opened your mouth, trying to think of something to say. 

“You don’t get to decide who I meet, who I sleep with.” His eye slanted and you realized that had been the wrong thing to say. 

“I do when I’m trying to protect you from this world. People find out we’re related or that you hooked up with one of my members and there goes all that anonymity you’ve worked so hard to create.” 

“Dae, I’m sorry. It just happened.” He shook his head.

“I’ll see you in LA.” Jiyong was on his feet, heading over to the both of you. Daesung held an arm out, turning to his friend. “Stay away from her.” 

“Daesung.” You both looked at each other. You could still feel that electric spark you’d felt in the hotel room. “I just need a couple minutes.” 

Daesung threw his arms up in the air before storming off. Jiyong gave you a pointed look before leading you out into the hallway. Your poor friend stayed frozen in place. You hadn’t even told her about that night.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“Because I knew you never would’ve talked to me had you known.” 

“I deserved to know.” He sighed. “I’ve been talking to him all week about this girl I met and how I had the best fucking sex of my life. And it turns out it was with his cousin.” His hand moved to scratch his head out of frustration. 

“Best sex of your life, huh?” You smirked and he looked up at you with a glare. “I’m sorry, Jiyong. Truly. But I really do like you and it was the only way I could be alone with you, to lie about my relationship with him. Everything else I told you was true. What we had was real and special and I can’t stop thinking about you.” 

“It’s too late for that now. Maybe if I’d known you were his cousin beforehand and could make that decision on my own it would’ve been different. This is why I don’t sleep with fans.” He moved back to the door. “I guess I’ll see you next week.” He pointed to the wristband before disappearing. 

You stood frozen in the hallway before your friend came over to you. She wrapped an arm around your shoulder and you leaned into her, thankful she was here despite the embarrassment. You let her lead you out of the building and to your car. The wristband held tightly between your fingers suddenly felt like it weighed over a hundred pounds and you weren’t sure what to do with it. 

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

The first week in Los Angeles has started off rocky. The plan from the start had been for Daesung and Jiyong went to LA first while Youngbae finished work back in Asia. He’d meet them there the following Wednesday. That left almost a week for the two men to be in the same space, at the same events, trying to make an awkward situation pleasant. 

The first night in LA, they’d gone to dinner, laughed over soju, posted pictures on instagram. Tried to be a united front for the fans who were hype about Bangchella. Jiyong tried really hard to get Daesung to forgive him. He took Daesung to a soccer game and finally, the night before Youngbae got there they talked, sorted out their issues and Jiyong promised he’d never talk to you again. 

You’d spent the last week DMing him on socials, apologizing, begging him to talk to you. Every message was left unread and finally gave up. Deciding that maybe some things were better left exactly as they were. Your perfect night together was now ruined, but maybe you could pretend it wasn’t. 

You watched the live stream of their first Coachella performance, tears in your eyes at how proud of them you were. You knew how much this moment meant. You remembered how upset Daesung had been when their original Coachella got canceled, seeing the crowd that night though - maybe this had been the perfect outcome for them. 

With a nervous sigh, you stepped off the plane in LA. Daesung had a car waiting for you that took you and your friend directly to your hotel. It was Friday and the official start of weekend two had begun. You’d seen the pictures of Jiyong and Daesung at the baseball game, and you knew that Jiyong had an event the night before. You hoped this meant you wouldn’t run into him much that weekend. 

Saturday, after some much needed rest, Daesung took you out to dinner. The tension wasn’t as bad as you’d expected, but judging from the baseball outing it seemed him and Jiyong had made up. 

“I’m sorry I was so harsh to you.” He finally said as he sipped his water. 

“I overstepped, took advantage, and I’m sorry too.” He sighed, his eyes fixed on your face. 

“You really like him, don’t you?” You shrugged. 

“I don’t think that matters, Dae. He’s not returned a single message of mine. He doesn’t feel the same way.” Daesung frowned, feeling guilty for getting in the way.

“He may have made a promise to me that he’d leave you alone for my sake.” Your eyes widened. You wanted to be annoyed but you knew in some twisted way, this was his way of protecting you. 

“Daesung!” You whined. 

“I have to let you grow up and make your own mistakes, I know. But you have to understand, I’ve watched fans send death threats to every girl he’s ever dated and I don’t want that for you.” He paused, “And Jiyong has been through a lot. I don’t want to watch either of you get hurt.” 

“I’m not scared of parasocial fan girls, Dae. And I promise, I’ll be real careful with his heart.” Daesung nodded. 

“I won’t get in the way, then.” You stood up, moved across the table and gave Daesung a big hug. 

“Thank you.” You whispered. 

He hugged you back, face tight. There was no point in stopping this anymore. He knew how sad Jiyong was to not have you, he’d seen it first hand all week. Even if he didn’t agree with it, he would find a way to be okay with it eventually. 

Sunday went by in a blur and before you knew it, you were standing front row for Bigbang’s show. It was electric, somehow even better of a show than the week before. Your eyes stayed focused on Jiyong and you could tell he was trying hard not to look out into the crowd. As if he was avoiding you. 

That all changed when it was time for his solo stage. His eyes instantly connected with yours during Power and you knew you both felt it. The rest of the night seemed to continue on that way. His eyes always finding you in the crowd. 

Once the show was over, you were escorted backstage. You ran over to Daesung giving him a big hug and he laughed as he pulled out of your arm. 

“That was incredible! How did it feel to be back together? To announce the tour?!” 

“Amazing.” He reached for your hand and you took his. “Come on, I want you to meet someone.” 

You didn’t know what he had in store for you until he led you directly to Jiyong. He had his back to you both, the sparkly jacket he’d been wearing hanging next to him on the clothes rack, his tank top and jeans the only thing left on him. Daesung tapped him on the shoulder and he turned around, looking between you both. 

“Jiyong, this is my cousin, Y/N. Y/N, this is my best friend, the leader of Bigbang, the best guy I know-“

“Hey!” Youngbae yelled from across the field causing everyone to laugh. 

“One of the best guys I know, Jiyong.” Daesung corrected. 

Jiyong reached his hand out and you grabbed it, giving him a polite shake.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N.” You nodded. 

“You too.” 

“Great. I’m leaving now.” Daesung waved, leaving you both alone. 

“We have his blessing.” Jiyong nodded, his hand still holding yours and he pulled you into the trailer. 

Apparently that was all the permission Jiyong needed. He kissed you slowly, his tongue massaging yours as he backed you up against the wall of the trailer. His hands trailed to your thighs, squeezing them gently and you jumped into his arms. Your hand moved to palm him through his pants and you moaned as you felt how hard he was. 

“Fuck me, Ji.” You whispered as you rolled your hips against him. 

“But there’s people out there.” You shrugged. 

“We’ll just have to be quiet then.” He smirked his hands moving up your thigh, you’d been wearing a skirt, with no panties as if you’d planned this moment and maybe you had, he hissed when his fingers came into contact with your slick folds. 

“God. You’re going to be the death of me.” He brought his fingers up to his mouth, sucking the taste of you off him. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. How you feel, how you taste.” Your hips rocked again. “I’m never letting you go.” 

His lips connected with yours, more rough this time as you unzipped his jeans, pushing them and his boxers down. He lined himself up to your entrance and pushed inside of you, deep and slow. You moaned into his mouth, your fingers sinking into his skin. 

His thrusts were fast and deep, hitting you just right every time and you fought to keep your moans in. His hand slid between you, his thumb circling your clit and you lost all control. 

“Fuck, Ji.” You moaned. 

“Come for me, Jagi. Show me that you’re all mine.” He groaned, his movements getting quicker. 

It didn’t take much longer before you were coming undone. Your body rocking against Jiyong as wave after wave of pleasure tore through your body. Jiyong held you tight, his thrusts never easing before he released inside of you. Your lips stayed connected as you swallowed each others moans. 

He sat you down gently, you fixed your skirt as he zipped his pants back up. He kissed you gently, slowly, his hand cupping your face. 

“I meant what I said, I’m never going to let you go, not again.” You nodded, kissing him softly. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I’m all yours.”

 He smirked, grabbed your hand and peaked his head out the trailer door. Everyone but his security was long gone. Jiyong let out a sigh of relief as he led you to his car. 

You spent the rest of the night together, wrapped in each other's arms. Gone was the frantic need to prove to each other that you were the best and in its place was soft, tender touches. Jiyong holding you close after as you dozed off in each other's arms. 

So maybe neither of you were meant for one night stands. That was okay with you, for you’d both found something so much better. You didn’t know what the future would hold for either of you, or if Daesung would ever really be okay with this, but for tonight it didn’t matter. Tonight you had Jiyong all to yourself - again, and you weren’t letting him go.

“How did it go today?” He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” He snapped, his hand moving to grab his phone. 

You nodded, sitting back in your spot, trying to figure out exactly how you were supposed to help someone who didn’t want it, be there for somebody who didn’t care. He started firing away text messages, you assumed were to the guys. Any normal woman in this situation would think the worst.

The way he had pulled away from you, the showers as soon as he came home, the texting. Any sane person would instantly go to cheating. You hadn’t, you knew what tour rehearsals were like. You l trusted him. But then, you caught it. A smirk at his phone and you sighed. It was nothing, it had to be nothing. 

“What?” His voice was anything but carrying.

“Nothing, Ji.” You picked up your now empty mug and stood up. “I’m going to bed.” 

He didn’t even so much as nod as you walked out of the room. You rinsed your mug, suddenly missing the days where he’d walk up behind you, wrap his arms around you and tell you the dishes could wait before dragging you to the bedroom. You tried not to think about it too much as you headed to the bedroom - alone. 

It was lonely in that large bed without him, night after night. Every night you’d fall asleep alone hoping that at the very least you’d wake up in his arms. Every morning you’d find him passed out on the couch. You didn’t know how much more of this you were supposed to take. 

It was a restless sleep and when you woke, you weren’t surprised to find yourself alone again. You stepped into the living room finding Jiyong asleep on the couch and sighed. You had a client meeting today and usually would just tiptoe out of the apartment, but not today. The meeting was at a time that allowed you to get ready without rushing. 

Jiyong woke to you cooking and grumpled as he sat up, rubbing his eyes. A quick check on his phone told him he’d only gotten a couple hours of sleep. He needed more if he was going to be worth a damn at rehearsal later.

“What are you doing?” He walked into the kitchen, a frown on his face. 

“Cooking.”

“You woke me up.” 

“Sorry.” You shrugged, turning back to the stove. 

“It’s like you don’t care at all.” He folded his arms, moving to stand beside you and you laughed. 

“I don’t care? That’s rich, coming from you.” You flipped your eggs not bothering to look at him. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I hardly see you anymore and when I do you act like I’m this big inconvenience.” You turned to face him. “Imagine how that feels.” 

“You’re inconveniencing me right now.” He mumbled. “I need sleep. I have work in a few hours and you keeping me awake is going to mess with how late we have to work tonight.” 

“I have to work, too. You’re not the only one out here with a job. Yours isn’t more important than mine.” 

“No, mine just provides for us at the expense of me.” He snapped. 

“I never asked you to provide for me. I have my own money.” You folded your arms. “And my own place.” 

“Sure could’ve fooled me. You’ve not been to your place in months. And you spend my money all the same, don’t you?” 

“Fine. If that’s what you think, then I’ll go.” You turned off the stove and headed to the bedroom. 

You got ready for work quickly before storming out of the apartment. You had no plans on coming back that night. If this is how Jiyong wanted to act, you wanted no part of it. 

What was the point in staying at his place night after night just for it to end in angry words that neither of you could take back? You’d made up your mind, tonight you wanted peace. Maybe it would do you both some good. 

Being back in your apartment was almost like being in a foreign country, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d been here. Judging by the dead plants, it had been awhile. Maybe Jiyong had been right about that. You frowned and busied yourself with throwing out the dead plants, carefully saving what could be saved off the soil. After a click rinse of the pots, you stacked them and placed them on the balcony to collect dust. 

You didn’t remember falling asleep, it must’ve happened after you’d turned on your favorite movie. But you were startled awake by the sound of knocking at your door. 

“I know you’re in there, I can hear the TV.” Jiyong’s voice rang out. 

You reached for your phone, 10 missed calls, 30 texts, and it was two in the morning. You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes and made your way to the door, opening it. Jiyong rushed past you, into the apartment and turned to face you. 

“Come on in.” You sighed. He scoffed, arms crossed as he looked at you. 

“Why are you ignoring my calls?” 

“I was asleep.” 

“Why didn’t you come home?” 

“I did. I came to my home.” You sighed, moving away from your door and leaning against the counter in your kitchen. 

“But why?” 

“You can’t seriously be asking me that’s Ji. You’re the one who basically accused me of you using you.” 

In that moment Jiyong didn’t look like the angry man you’d been seeing for the last few weeks. He seemed small, and tired, and scared. You’d come over here to avoid the drama that your relationship had become and instead it had followed you here. 

“I’m sorry, I’m just really stressed with the tour. It’s the last time we’re all going to be together as one one unit before military leave and I’ve been trying to make it perfect. I didn’t mean to take my frustrations out on you.” He moved to sit down and you could see the exhaustion evident in his face.

“I just needed some space. You’ve seemed so mad at me lately, I couldn’t take it anymore.” Jiyong hung his head, he was clearly ashamed of his actions. 

“Is there anything I can do to make you come home?” He looked up at you, eyes hopeful. 

“You can start by not being a prick.” He snorted and nodded his head. 

“I promise, I’ll try to be better.” 

“Trying isn’t good enough, Jiyong. I’m not some emotional punching back that you can take all your frustrations out on.” You finally sat down next to him, deciding 2 AM was far too late to have this conversation standing up. 

“I know you’re not.” He reached a hand out for you but dropped it down in his lap instead. “You’re not any of the things I said this morning, either. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

“I know you’re sorry, but I need you to be better. I can’t keep walking on eggshells. Or feeling unwanted when you’re around. This is the longest conversation we’ve had in weeks.” 

Jiyong’s head snapped up, like he hadn’t realized it had been this bad for awhile. Maybe he hadn’t. Maybe he’d been so wrapped up in the Bigbang bubble that he hadn’t realized how much time had passed. 

“I’m going to do better.” He nodded, finally finding the courage to reach out to touch you, you didn’t pull away. 

“You have to.” He relaxed against the couch, the weight of the last few weeks finally catching up to him. 

“I will.” 

“It’s late. Let’s just sleep here.” You sighed, finally giving in. 

Jiyong offered up a small smile before standing, his hand wrapping around yours as you made the short walk to your bedroom. You crawled into bed, him next to you and he pulled you close. 

“Your place looks different.” He murmured after a few minutes of silence. You hummed and then let out a small laugh. 

“My plants died.” He chuckled, his body rocking with laughter, causing your head to bounce off his chest. 

“You should just sell this place, move in with me - officially.” 

“Is that a good idea?” 

You hated that this was your response. You wanted to say yes, jump out of bed and start packing. But this was the reality now. You just hoped the fear of your relationship ending would go away soon. 

“I promise you, I’m never coming home and taking my frustrations out on you. You being there helps more than you know. I just don’t want to dwell on the bad of the day. When you ask it brings it all right back to the surface and I take it out on you when I should be taking it out on YG.” You looked up at him, a frown on your face. “He’s the one who’s not happy with any of the changes I make. He hates the entire arrangement everyday. And now he’s settled on some bullshit where everyone else gets a needed break but I don’t. Not for a long time. It’s exhausting. I’m exhausted. And I’m afraid I won’t be able to pull it off the entire tour.” 

“Have you talked to him about it?” You moved to sit up slightly so you could get a better look at his face and he nodded. 

“He doesn’t care. This arrangement will be cool for the fans. That’s all that matters to him.” 

“I’ll move in with you. But I don’t want you helping, so I’ll move stuff over once you're on tour.” He raised a brow. “You’re overworked as it is. And it’ll give me something to do while you’re away. I’ll work on listing it next week.”

“I love you, and I’m sorry.” 

“I love you too.” You moved back down, curling back into him. “It’s late, we should sleep.” 

You weren’t really sure how you were meant to sleep now that you knew you’d be worried about him until this tour was over. At least now you knew why he’d been so exhausted and snappy. You were still hurt, but you could work on that, together. And when the tour was over? You’d be giving someone else a little piece of your mind. For now though, you settled for holding Jiyong close, wishing to take all his problems away and watched him sleep.

When a drawing leaked online that mapped every mole on his body, every detail of his tattoos and even the size of his underwear, you cried. You really cried that night, staring at the article and in a fit of anger you threw your favorite coffee mug against the wall, because you knew exactly how much his sensitive soul must have been suffering and how much humiliation he had to endure during that time. The stain from the spilled coffee stayed there, mocking you every single day after and reminding you of how helpless the whole situation had been.

The first few days after he finished his service, you didn’t reach out to him and he didn’t reach out to you either. You knew he needed time, that he had to reunite with his family and the people closest to him, and the only thing that warmed your chest was the fact that you could watch the photos he shared on his private account, proof that he was finally safe, back home and  surrounded by people who loved him.

You had known Jiyong long enough to recognize that behind his smile in those pictures there was exhaustion, weariness and the reflection of everything he had gone through. You knew he was marked by it…

Today you stayed at work longer than usual, trying to keep your chaotic thoughts busy. It had already been a week since Jiyong came back home and he still hadn’t shown up or contacted you. You had to admit you were hurting, because you missed him so much it almost felt unbearable, even though you knew he needed time.

It was almost one in the morning when you started packing your things to finally go home, your phone still lying on the desk when it suddenly vibrated. You assumed it was some kind of notification, because at one in the morning in the middle of a work week, normal people were already asleep. Your breath caught and you had to steady yourself against the desk when you saw the message. A message from Jiyong…

J: You really don’t know how to rest, do you? Your office is the only one with the lights on again…

A moment later, another message came.

J: Give it up and come downstairs. I’m waiting in the car in the parking lot.

You lift your head sharply from your phone and instead of finally throwing your things into your bag and going to him, you move toward the window, as if you needed to make sure this was real, that you weren’t hallucinating from lack of sleep and too many nights spent crying. His car is really there. You can’t see much from this height in the dark, but the faint glow of his phone is enough before it disappears again.

You forget about everything you left in your office and rush out into the hallway, almost running to the elevator, trying to get outside as fast as possible, closer to Jiyong. You step out of the building, but your pace slows down until you stop a few meters away from his car.

You’re finally seeing him in person after such an impossibly long time and your eyes fill with tears. You stand frozen in place, your shoulders slumped and you are unable to move. You had wanted to be strong so badly when this moment came. You knew Jiyong was the one who had suffered, that you were supposed to be the strong one for him... But all those articles, all those rumors you had been forced to read while he was gone flood your mind, and you just can’t hold back the tears anymore.

After a moment Jiyong steps out of the car and walks toward you without hesitation. Without a word, he pulls you into his arms and holds you against him.

“Jiyong…” you sob and clutching his coat tighter. You hold onto him like you never want to let go, because you don’t. “Jiyong, Jiyong…” you whisper into the fabric of his coat, completely undone.

His hands move over your back, trying to calm you, grounding you and reminding you that he’s real, that this isn’t just something you imagined.

“It’s okay… I’m back, I’m here…” he murmurs into your hair and you can hear the slight tremble in his voice. It sounds rougher than when you last saw him, like too much had happened for anything to remain the same. Not even the tone of his voice…

“Look at me, Y/N,” he whispers softly, pulling back just enough to take your face into his hands and find your eyes.

You know you look terrible. You notice the smudges of your mascara on his coat and you’re almost certain it’s smeared all over your face too, but you don’t care. You sniff softly and focus on his gaze. It’s so grounding, so calming, that you finally begin to come back to reality.

“I’m back, just like I promised,” he says as he leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead. You’re still struggling to find words, your body trembling and you’re not sure if it’s from the cold November air or from the overwhelming weight of worry finally lifting off your chest. “We should go before someone sees us,” he adds as he pulls away again and his eyes moving over your face with a soft smile, studying every detail like he’s trying to remember something familiar. Something he couldn’t get out of his head the entire time, just like you…

He walks you to the passenger door and waits until you get in before gently closing it behind you, then walks around the car and takes his seat behind the wheel. You glance at yourself in the mirror and your suspicion that you look awful is confirmed. You reach for the dashboard and pull out some tissues, trying to at least wipe away some of your smeared makeup.

“Where to, lady?” Jiyong turns his head toward you and raises one eyebrow.

For the first time in a long time, you burst out laughing. The whole situation feels so absurd and at the same time so incredibly sweet, the way he’s trying to make you laugh, that you can’t help it.

“Well, sir, since I ran after you so fast that I left everything in my office, including my keys, phone, and wallet, I honestly have no idea where…”

“Alright, in that case it’s going to be very expensive,” he smiles and gently brushes his fingers over your cheek before starting the engine and pulling out into the night streets of Seoul.

You don’t even register where you’re going and right now it doesn’t matter. You turn your head and watch Jiyong’s profile. Even if he seems thinner than before, he’s still unbelievably beautiful. He’s exactly the same Jiyong you argued with countless times, the one who threatened to fire you, the one who cried in front of you before he left for the military, the one who stole your heart…

Jiyong senses your gaze and when you stop at a traffic light, he turns his head toward you. When he sees you watching him, he smiles and reaches his hand out. He finds yours and pulls it into his lap, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand.

The entire drive passes in silence, the two of you exchanging nothing but glances and small smiles that make your heart race and spread a warm, almost overwhelming feeling through your body.

When you finally arrive at his penthouse, you throw yourself into his arms again the moment the door closes behind you.

“You’re never allowed to leave again, never. Promise me that, Ji,” you whisper.

“I promise,” Jiyong says as you move together toward the couch in the living room. “Did you miss me?” he asks after a moment, and you look at him in disbelief.

“Of course I missed you. How can you even ask something like that? Wasn’t my reaction enough?”

Jiyong moves closer to you and runs his thumb over your cheek. “Then why haven’t you properly kissed me yet?” he murmurs. “I’ve wanted it so badly… the thought of you, of your lips, it’s what kept me going the whole time. It was the only thing I could think about so I wouldn’t completely lose my mind.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Please…” he whispers, almost desperately.

You hold your breath, painfully aware of how long you’ve been waiting for this moment too. Slowly, you tilt your head and move closer to him.

When your lips finally meet after all that time, it feels like an electric shock. You slide your hands to his face and pull him closer, deepening the kiss. When you part your lips further and your tongue brushes against his, he exhales softly and pulls you even closer, until you’re almost sitting in his lap.

“I missed you so much… I’ve been waiting for this moment for so long, Ji, you can’t even imagine,” you say when you pull back just enough to breathe. “I’ll show you how much I missed you,” you add before crashing back into his lips, kissing him like the world is about to end.

Your hands find the hem of his shirt and you pull it over his head in one quick motion. Your own shirt follows right after. You push against his shoulder and he lets himself fall back beneath you. The feeling of his bare chest against yours is intoxicating.

Jiyong unhooks your bra and lets it fall away, and for a long moment you just keep kissing, until he suddenly flips you beneath him and now he’s hovering over you. For a moment you just look at each other again, and you take a shaky breath.

“Don’t look at me like that…” you murmur and lowering your gaze to avoid his intense eyes.

“I had that look in my head the entire time I was gone… let me enjoy seeing it for real,” he says softly before leaning down to kiss you again.

Your pants are on the floor before you even realize it and his fingers brushing over the fabric of your soaked underwear. You let out a soft, satisfied sound and instinctively lift your hips into his touch.

“Ji…” you breathe. “Please, I need you… I don’t want to rush it, but I need you so much…” you whisper desperate, as Jiyong quickly gets rid of his pants and boxers before pulling your underwear off as well.

“I need you too… so fucking much,” he murmurs as his fingers circle over your clit before sliding two fingers inside you. “You’re so ready for me… I can barely hold myself back…” he exhales, his voice low and strained as his fingers move inside you at a slow, almost torturous pace.

“Ji, please…” you moan and arching into his touch.

He doesn’t hesitate for even a second. He moves over you, guiding himself with one hand and brushing against your wet folds before finally pushing inside you. He settles over you almost with his full weight, bracing himself on his elbows on either side of your head, and you feel his hot breath and hear his soft groan as he fills you completely.

Your hands move into his hair and your fingers tangling in the short strands before drifting to his face. You trace every detail of his features, every line that wasn’t there before, until your fingers stop at his lips. They’re soft, slightly parted and impossibly familiar… Jiyong doesn’t move at first. He stays buried deep inside you and just watching your expression.

“I love you…” you whisper without hesitation. “I love you so much, Ji,” you add, pulling his face down to yours and kissing him again.

He exhales softly into your lips, like he needs to let the words settle somewhere inside him before he can answer. “I love you too…” he murmurs, his voice is rough, almost unsteady as your lips part again. “I’d do anything for you… anything, do you understand?”

You nod and your eyes closing as a soft moan escapes you, overwhelmed by the feeling of him filling you completely. It’s so intimate it almost hurts.

“Only with you I don’t have to pretend… I don’t have to be anything other than who I really am…” he whispers as he slowly begins to move inside you. “I never had to pretend with you… and you always accepted me exactly as I am…” he groans and one his hand sliding to your thigh, lifting it higher and pressing himself closer as his thrusts grow deeper.

“I’m so close, Ji…” you gasp, pulling him into another kiss. “Please don’t stop…”

He doesn’t. If anything, his movements grow more uneven and more urgent. Your breathing quickens, your nails digging into his back, but just as you’re about to fall apart, he slows down, almost stopping completely and his forehead resting against your cheek. You feel his breath, warm and uneven, against your skin and your hand finds his hair again.

“I want this to be forever…” he murmurs and moving inside you slowly, barely there, but somehow more intense than before.

“It will be…” you whisper softly, your hand brushing over his face. “It’ll be okay…”

He closes his eyes, leaning into your touch like he needs it.

“Promise?”

“I promise…” you lift your head slightly and kiss him again.

He deepens the kiss immediately, his movements picking up again, faster now and more desperate. Your head falls back against the pillow as a soft sound leaves your lips. His mouth finds the sensitive spot below your ear and he gives it his full attention. His rhythm becomes more uneven and more urgent again.

“Come with me… I’m close…” he whispers against your skin and his breath hot against your ear. One of his hands slips between your bodies and his thumb circling your clit. Your legs fall further apart instinctively, letting him move deeper and closer. You gasp as he hits that spot inside you. The combination of his movements and his touch pushing you closer and closer.

Your hands slide down to his ass and pulling him closer like you’re trying to fuse your bodies together, even though you already feel completely full of him.

You can tell he’s close too. You hear it in his breathing, in the way his voice breaks into quiet, uneven sounds that make your entire body react. It doesn’t take long before your body tightens around him, your orgasm hitting hard, and almost at the same moment he follows, his body tensing as he comes inside you. He collapses against you, breathing heavily and resting his head against your chest as you both try to catch your breath and slowly returning to reality.

“Tomorrow we’re flying to Jeju,” he says after a moment and his fingers tracing slow patterns over your bare hip.

“Who’s we?” you ask quietly.

“We are,” he answers simply, lifting his head to look at you. “You and me.”

“That’s not possible, Jiyong. I’d love to go with you, but I have so much work, I can’t just take time off like that and—”

He cuts you off with a kiss. “I already said. You’re part of my PR team, and as your boss I’m officially ordering you to take time off…” he says calmly.

You stare at him for a moment before you can’t help but laugh. “Wow, that’s the most romantic thing any man has ever said to me,” you reply and your tone is laced with irony, but your smile doesn’t fade. “You’re so bossy. Got any more pickup lines like that?”

“With your workaholic tendencies I don’t really have a choice. Otherwise you’d rather work than be with me, and I can’t allow that… not after everything that happened before I left,” he says quietly as he turns to face you.

You’re lying opposite each other now, just taking in the closeness, the way it feels to simply look at one another again.

“So you think I’m going to go easier on you now? Give you special treatment at work?”

“No and I don’t want that,” he says without hesitation. “You’ve always been honest with me. You never sugarcoated anything, and that’s exactly what I’m going to need now, after being away for so long… not comforting lies, but the truth.” He leans in to kiss you again. “And I hope you won’t go easy on me outside of work either…” His hand slides under the blanket and slowly moving from your thigh toward your core.

“Jiyong!” you laugh and pushing his hand away.

He’s on top of you again, smiling as his hands move to your sides and tickling you. You try to escape his grip and your cheeks burning as laughter spills out of you without restraint.

After a moment he stops and gently brushes his hand over your face again. Silence settles between you for a second before he speaks. “I missed your laugh… I missed all of you. Thinking about you was what got me through all of it…”

You hesitate for a moment before speaking again, your fingers intertwining with his. “Do you want…do you want to talk about it… what you went through?”

His hand stills for a second against your skin, a subtle tension passing through his body. “I do… but not right now. I need some time… And I don’t want to ruin this moment. I’ve been waiting for this for so long…”

“You know I’ve always been here for you. And I always will be. Whenever you want to talk about anything,” you say softly and running your fingers through his short hair again.

“I know… and I appreciate that. I always did, even if it didn’t seem like it,” he murmurs, taking your hand and pressing a soft kiss to the back of it. “Right now I just need you to stay… just stay here with me,” he adds quietly, pulling closer to you and settling into the safety of your arms.

“Wow. G-Dragon. My hero.” Apparently that had been enough to intrigue him. 

He’d invited you for coffee, to help sober up and admitted he was a little tipsy himself. Neither of you wanted to admit you were more than that. You spent an hour at a coffee shop, mostly talking about you. He didn’t want to talk about himself, claiming everyone knew too much about him anyway. 

When you went to leave he’d given you his number, asked to meet up again. You saw him two more times after that. He started opening up more, telling you the joys of being unknown now. You told him how inspiring Bigbang had been to your life. How you missed him but understood if he never came back. 

He kissed you for the first time underneath the stars outside his favorite restaurant. You hadn’t expected it and as a result it was probably the sloppiest and worst kiss of your life. You’d asked for a do over and he’d agreed, kissing you slowly, like he had all the time in the world. 

“I don’t usually date fans.” He’d said after. 

“Is that what this is, a date?” You challenged. He’d responded by kissing you again. 

You didn’t hear from him for awhile after that and you were starting to wonder if maybe you’d dreamed the whole thing up. You’d definitely had stranger things happen. Dreaming up a few dates with Kwon Ji-Yong wouldn’t be the craziest thing you’d done. 

You were getting ready for a night out with friends when your phone buzzed. Assuming it was Mina canceling, you put your brush down and picked up your phone. 

Hey. 

Well hello, stranger.

Sorry for disappearing, life got busy again. 

No worries. Glad to hear you’re keeping busy. Was starting to think you were a figment of my imagination. 

100% real, baby.

You busy tomorrow? 

I should say yes, so I don’t seem like a pathetic fangirl, jumping at the chance to see you. But I’m free. 

Come over? I want to show you something. 

I hope it’s those tattoos in person. 

If you play your cards right. 

See you tomorrow then. 

My driver will pick you up at 7. 

Okay. 

You should’ve done anything but go out with your friends that night, because all you could think about was Jiyong. Worst of all, you couldn’t tell anyone you even knew him. You’d promised when you started seeing him that nobody would ever know. 

The night seemed to go on slowly, too slowly for your liking. All you wanted to do was curl up in a ball and sleep until 7pm the next day. Unfortunately, you had work in the morning. 

When your alarm went off you contemplated on calling in sick but you decided against it. Work dragged on, thankfully from the comfort of your home office and somehow, against the odds it was finally 7. You rushed outside and into the waiting car. It might’ve been pathetic for you to be this excited to see Jiyong but you didn’t care.  He met you in the garage and you grinned as you got out of the car. 

“Hi.” He pulled you in for a hug, a matching smile on his face. 

“Hi.” Your arms wrapped around him tightly. You were still in shock that this was your reality. 

He nodded at his driver before grabbing your hand. You wondered when he stopped driving himself around. You remembered how excited he always seemed to be behind the wheel of his newest car in the past. Something must’ve changed between his last tour, military service, and now. You wanted to ask but you didn’t want to ruin whatever this was. 

Jiyong was silent as he led you to the elevator. You recognized it from the selfie pictures he posted on occasion. It felt surreal to be standing here. When you walked inside his penthouse, you took a minute, your eyes going over every piece of furniture and art. 

You’d seen a glimpse before when he’d shared his house in pictures on instagram. If had been at the height of the pandemic and boredom had led him to show off where he was staying during lockdown. You again, couldn’t believe you were here. 

“What are you doing?” You hadn’t even realized Jiyong was halfway to his living room while you stood inside the doorway. 

“Oh you know, trying not to fangirl.” You shrugged, sliding out of your shoes. 

Jiyong smirked and sat down on his couch, patting the spot next to him. You walked further into the place, moved a few of the ridiculous amount of pillows decking the couch and sat down next to him. His hand went to rest on your leg and you scooted closer to him. He was never this touchy feely in public, for obvious reasons and it was nice to be here now, having confirmation that he at least found you attractive enough to want to keep a hand on you. 

“What did you want to show me?” He gestured to himself and you laughed. “You could just say you miss me, you know?” 

“I thought this way would be more fun.” He leaned in, kissing you softly. “I did miss you.” His lips hoovering over yours as he spoke. 

“I missed you too.” 

He smirked as he kissed you again. His hand cupped your cheek as he deepened the kiss. His tongue sliding against yours slowly. You were always so amazed by how he kissed you. Like it was the most important thing in the world. His free arm wrapped around you tightly, pulling you on top of him as he moved to lay back on the couch. 

You positioned yourself so that you were straddling his waist. You don’t know how long you stayed that way, your mouths in a dance of dominance, his hands running up and down your back. When he finally did slide his hand under your top, you shuddered at the touch. His fingers worked quickly, undoing your bra and you wondered how many times he’d done this. How many girls he’d made out with on this very couch. 

“Show me your room.” You whispered as you broke the kiss. Jiyong looked at you, brow raised. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah.”

He shifted, sitting up and you moved with him. His hands wrapped around you as he stood up, thankfully he’d been working out a lot lately. Pre-military he probably would’ve made you walk yourself to his room, this was more fun. Your legs wrapped around him tightly as he headed towards his bedroom. He carefully laid you back on the bed, his lips connecting with yours again. His knee resting in between your legs. 

He broke the kiss, leaving a trail of kisses down your neck.

His hand moved to the end of your shirt and he began to lift it slowly. You sat up just enough for him to slide it over your head and he leaned back, taking in the sight of you. 

“Beautiful.” He murmured. 

He kisses a trail down your neck, towards your breast. He paused for a second to finish what he’d started on the couch and removed your bra. He took his time, his mouth worshiping each of your breasts before he kissed down your stomach. His hands gripped your shorts, pulling them and your panties down in one swift movement. 

“This feels extremely unbalanced.” You reached for him, helping him out of shirt and pants. “Better.”

It was more than better, Jiyong was gorgeous and clearly sculpted by the gods. How was it even possible for someone to look this good? You suddenly felt insecure, as if you weren’t enough for him and moved to hide your body. Jiyong moved, hovering over you, his cock lined up to your entrance. 

“You sure you want to do this?” 

You responded by grinding your hips against him. He groaned at the contact. Your wet folds teasing the head of his cock. His eyes stayed on yours as he pushed inside of you slowly, allowing you to get used to him before he entered you completely. You pulled him back to you. Your lips connected in a slow, deep kiss. 

Jiyong’s tongue massaged against yours as he pushed in and out of you slowly. He was taking his time with you, he didn’t know if he’d have another chance or if you’d run for the hills after tonight and he wanted to remember what it felt like to be inside of you. Meeting you had been a shot of luck, you had awoken him from a funk. Inspired him. He’d only disappeared because he’d been in the studio, working on a song inspired by you. 

His movements were slow, steady, sure as he continued to set the pace. His cock hitting you just right every time. Your fingers dug into his back as you willed him to move faster, deeper. He obliged but only a little. His hand moved to grab your thigh, moving it higher up his body, your ankle resting on his shoulder.  Your walls clenched around him as he continued his movements, the new angle allowing him to go deeper. 

“God, Ji.” You moaned, your nails digging deeper. “Just like that.” 

He kissed you again before he moved faster, each thrust getting harder, quicker. He could feel you getting close and he wasn’t far behind. 

“Cum for me, Jagiya.” He grunted, holding off his own orgasm. 

It only took a few more movements before you were coming undone, his name falling from your lips. He followed right behind you, saying your name as if you’d answered all his prayers. He stayed inside you, his lips finding yours once again. 

“It’s important to me that you know I don’t do this often.” His eyes met yours. He was still inside of you and you wiggled against him.

“What? Sleep with fans or have sex in general.” He paused, looking at you wide eyed and then shrugged. 

“I guess both.” He laughed, his hand moving to push back a stray piece of your hair. “You just caught me off guard and I’m forever grateful.” 

“Well, I don’t make it a habit to do this, either.” He finally pulled out of you and rolled onto his back, pulling you with him. 

“What? Sleep with hot Korean men or have sex in general?” You snorted. 

“Both, I guess.” Jiyong rolled sideways a bit to look at you. “I really like you, Y/N.”

“I really like you too.” Jiyong smiled, his hand stayed on your cheek. 

“Do you want to make this official?” 

“You sure you want to date your biggest fan?” Jiyong snorted and rolled his eyes.

“A thousand percent.” 

“Then yeah, I want to be your official girlfriend.” 

Jiyong leaned in, kissing you again. All those worries and thoughts of other women left your mind the instant his lips were on yours. You no longer worried about how many people he’d done this with. Right now his focus was you, and you alone and you needed to learn to enjoy the moment. You held him closer, both of you wrapped in each other's arms. A movie had been turned on at one point but you were too focused on each other to notice it. You didn’t know how you’d gotten so lucky to drunkenly stumble into him all those months ago, but you were grateful for it.

Confirmed only by the fact that you were currently getting ready to go to his apartment. He’d been trying to get you to come over since the first time he’d seen your place. He claimed he had the better views, the better neighborhood, the better floor plan. You’d give him the last one, you hadn’t been there yet but you knew he had at least two guest rooms and you were in a one bedroom.  Hongdae was the better neighborhood and had the best views, you’d die on that hill. 

You didn’t know if this was a sleepover or not, but considering the time - well after ten at night and he’d asked you to meet him when his shoot was done, you could only assume. So you had been busy packing a little overnight bag to take to his place. 

He’d sent you a text with his elevator code, so at least you didn’t look super out of place at his fancy high rise. Especially since someone else was in the elevator already. You nodded politely, entered your code and took off. Once you reached Jiyong’s floor, you stepped out and sighed. It was basically a maze once you got off. Luckily, Jiyong and all his cotton candy hair glory was waiting for you just outside his door. 

He grinned at you once you made eye contact and you all but sprinted into his open arms. He laughed as he held you close, your legs wrapping around him. It was as if you hadn’t seen him three days ago and it had been months since you’d see him. 

“I missed you too.” He whispered into your hair as he pulled you into his apartment. 

Iye being the curious cat he was, slinked over to the two of you as Jiyong sat you down on the ground. He sniffed you once before deciding you were worthy and rubbed against your leg. You bent down to scratch behind his ears. You’d only ever seen Iye in pictures and had been looking forward to meeting him. 

“Hi cutie!” You grinned before standing back up. “Hi other cutie.” Jiyong smirked and reached for your hand. 

“Come on, let me show you around.” 

You slid out of your shoes and placed your bag down before following him further into the apartment. You hated to admit that he really did have the better apartment and the better view. You weren’t willing to slide on the neighborhood and you wouldn’t. He took his time showing you around the open concept living and kitchen area. It was all very him. Loud colors, furniture you’d expect from a fashion magazine, art that perfectly summed him up. You loved it. 

He showed you his office next, the place you knew he spent a lot of time writing up songs, working on random art work and items for his fashion brand. It was almost like a museum in there and you didn’t want to touch anything. That was until you spotted something hanging on a clothes rack and walked further into the space. It was a custom peaceminusone leather jacket, somehow managing to cast the perfect mix of rock and roll and a soft feminine vibe. 

“You like it?” He’d been watching you from the doorway and you looked up at him, nodding. 

“It’s gorgeous, Ji. You continuously blow me away with your talent.” He smirked and entered the room. His arms wrapping around you. You leaned into his touch, your back flush against his chest. 

“It’s for you.” He murmured his lips moving to kiss your shoulder. 

“What?” 

“I didn’t realize it at first when I started creating the piece, but as I continued with it I realized the only person I wanted to see in it was you.” You turned around in his arms, a grin on your face as you planted a soft kiss to his lips. 

“It’s perfect, you're perfect. Thank you.” He smirked again, his eyes staying fixed on yours. 

“Try it on?” 

You stepped out of the warmth of his arms and stripped off the hoodie you’d had on. Carefully, you took the jacket off the hanger and slid your arm into it. It fit perfectly, so not only was Jiyong great at everything but he could perfectly guess your size, too. 

“I love it so much!” You grinned as you spun in a circle, showing off the design. Jiyong laughed and reached for you, pulling him back to you. 

“I’m so glad.” 

He picked up your hoodie and let you from the office. The tour included him pointing out the guest bath and guest room, claiming he never stepped foot in them before ending the tour at his bedroom. It was exactly how you’d pictured it. Large king sized bed smack dab in the middle of the room. A TV sat on the opposite end, larger than the one in the living room. Various statues and art work sat or hung around the TV somehow making the room feel cozy despite its size. A cat tree sat by the window in the room, thick curtains hung on either side, you imagined they were black out curtains so he could sleep well past the sun. To the left of the bed was the en-suite and walk in closet. 

“You have a really lovely home, Ji.” You finally said once you were both situated on his bed, feet sprawled out in front of you. 

“Nice enough for you to live here?” He teased and you rolled your eyes. 

“Nice try.” 

He’d mentioned it once before, how nice it would be to come home to you every night. It was the first time he’d shown up at your place unannounced after a particularly hard day. He just needed to see you, you always made everything better. You’d thought maybe it was just the emotions of the hard day talking when he’d said it but now maybe there was more to it. 

“Worth a shot.” He laughed, his arm moving to wrap around you. 

It was always like this with you two since you’d started dating. Personal space wasn’t a thing anymore, you two were constantly touching, it drove everyone else insane. Almost so that your best friends almost regretted setting you up. At the end of the day they were just glad you two had worked out even if your happiness was slowly driving them all crazy. 

Soohyuk and Youngbae had a support chat with the rest of BigBang with a running tally of how often the two of you brought each other up in conversation. Daesung constantly asked why YB and Soohyuk had thought this was such a good idea, but he was secretly just as happy as the rest of the guys for you both. 

You curled into Jiyong’s side as he turned on a movie, your fingers tracing the fake tattoo on his arm. His real tattoos were some of your favorite things about him, but you were starting to enjoy the colorful fake ones he had at the moment. It went well with his current hair color. Anything was better than that ridiculous side bang. 

“What are you thinking?” You’d been so lost in thought you hadn’t realized he’d been watching you. 

“I was thinking about how much I hated that side bang.” You smirked and he let out a laugh. 

“You’ll never let me live that down, will you?” 

“Not for as long as you’ll have me.” His hand moved to cup your cheek and he gave you the softest smile you’d ever seen. 

“Forever then.” 

Your stomach flipped, like it always did when he got serious about you. You leaned up, closing the distance between you and planted a soft kiss against his lips. His hand moved your face ever so slightly, allowing a better angle to deepen the kiss. 

You moved to straddle his lap, his hand moving from your face to the small of your back as he held you close. His lips moved from yours to your neck, your shoulder. The softness that had been there before was replaced with urgency and need.

You had both tried to wait, you really had. But after a couple of back to back dates, it just kind of happened. There was no self control when it came to either of you, and ever since then sex had become a normal part of your relationship. The love and care you had for each other - even if you hadn’t said the L word out loud yet had made for this to be the best sex of your life. 

Jiyong’s hand moved to pull your shirt up and you discarded it quickly, his shirt following close behind yours. His teeth nipped at your skin as your body moved against him. You could feel him getting hard beneath you and your hips rolled, teasing him. He bit down harder, his eyes on yours, a devilish smirk on his lips. 

You pulled down his pajama pants, palming him through his boxers and he groaned as his lips reconnected with yours. You took quick work of removing the rest of your clothes and you leaned back, positioning yourself above him. You were practically dripping with want and Jiyong licked his lips. 

“You are perfect.” 

You smiled as you moved, lowering yourself on top of him. His hands steady on your hips, guiding your movements as you took him inch by inch. Your eyes rolling closed as he bottomed out. 

“Not as perfect as you.” You managed to get out, a moan following.

You rolled your hips before you rose, pulling off him so only the head of his cock was still inside you before you lowered yourself again. His hands steady on your hips as you moved up and down. Your head fell backwards as you began moving quicker. Jiyong rose, his chest meeting yours and he kissed the exposed skin of your neck. One hand moving to cradle the back of your head. 

“Ji” You moaned, eyes locking with his. “I’m so close.” 

“I know, baby.” He moved his hand from your hip, sliding in between you two. His thumb circled your clit and you moaned so loud you would’ve been embarrassed if this was anyone else. 

“Cum for me baby, cum on my cock.” He whispered in your ear before his lips were back on yours.

Your movements became quicker as his thumb continued to rub your clit just right. It didn’t take much longer before your walls clenched against him and you came undone, his name falling from your lips. He held you close as he rolled his hips a few more times, his own release followed yours. 

“I love you.” 

Your eyes widened, you hadn’t meant to say it out loud. Jiyong looked at you for a second, a smile spreading across his lips as he leaned in to kiss you softly. He pulled back, his eyes staying locked on yours. 

“I love you. I’m in love with you. You’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” 

You grinned, your forehead resting on his. It was irrelevant that you were still on top of him, that he was still inside you. Your hips moved against him slowly and you could feel his cock getting hard again inside you. Your eyes rolled back at the feeling before you opened them again. 

“I don’t know how I got so lucky, but I’m so thankful.” You kissed him again, slow and deep. 

Jiyong flipped you on your back, his hips pushing his cock further into you. He took his time this time, his movements slow, sure, steady. Driving you to the edge with each thrust. His lips stayed connected with yours as he brought you to the edge again, and again. 

You weren’t sure how many rounds you ended up doing that night but when he finally pulled out of you, you felt warm and exhausted in the best way. He carried you to the bathroom and you caught a glimpse of the time on the way, well after 3 AM. You were definitely calling off work in the morning. 

He started the shower, and you both took turns cleaning each other's hair before you carefully cleaned each others bodies. He wrapped you in a towel after and you pecked his lips. Once you were back in bed, he put on another movie and you grabbed your phone. Sending a quick text that you were sick and would need the rest of the week off. Jiyong raised a brow and you shrugged. 

“Now I’m all yours for the rest of the week.” He smiled. 

“You’re gonna stay here all week?”

“Yeah, sure. Your bed is more comfortable than mine.” He laughed as he pulled you closer. Your head resting on his chest. 

“I want to show you something.” 

He grabbed his phone, unlocked it, making sure you saw his passcode, he didn’t have anything to hide. You noticed it was your birthday and you couldn’t help but smile. He opened up instagram, to something he’d posted the last time you were on a date. It was just a simple picture of you, smiling at him across the table. Your arm outstretched and you knew you were holding his hand across the table. The caption was simple. “Can’t help falling in love with her.” With a simple red heart emoji. 

“I just wanted you to know, I’ve thought it for awhile and it wasn’t because of the sex. Why I said it.” 

“Oh, Ji. I would never think that.” You took the phone from him, studying the picture for a minute before handing it back to him. “Is there anything you’re not good at?” 

“Hm?” He chuckled, putting his phone back on the nightstand. 

“Rapper, singer, dancer, producer, clothing designer, and photographer.” You paused. “And the most gorgeous human in the world. It’s unfair.”  He laughed, placing a kiss to the top of your nose. 

“The most gorgeous around goes to you. But I guess you’re right, I am insanely talented.” 

“And modest too.” You laughed, swatting at his chest.

“You know, you should really get instagram so you can see my posts.” 

“Hm. Maybe. I’ve never really wanted one. I don’t even know what I’d post.” Jiyong gestures to himself and you rolled your eyes. 

The rest of the night was spent with you two wrapped up in each other's arms, joking and talking about everything. It was well into the morning when you both dozed off to sleep and you’d never been so happy for black out curtains in your life. You spent the next five days at his place, takin a brief pause for him to run you home to get some clothes. 

You’d decided after this week together that maybe it wouldn’t be a bad idea for you to both leave things at each other's houses. Your backup toothbrush now held permanent residency next to his toothbrush on the counter. The PMO jacket hung in the closet, it was too pretty to travel across Seoul, and you’d left a pair of pajamas behind as well. 

When you left Sunday night to get some much needed rest in your own bed, he’d sent you with a travel toothbrush for him, some of his can’t live without comfy clothes, and a kiss that made you weak in the knees. After work, you curled up on the couch, wearing his sweatpants and downloaded instagram. After creating an account you scrolled through your photos, finding one of him with the side bang and posted it. A simple caption reading “him. ❤️” You then followed both his public and private accounts, not that you could see anything on the private account. 

It didn’t take long for him to see the follow request, approve it, follow you on his private account, like the photos, or leave a comment. You had just started your deep dive into his account when your phon buzzed, a new text. 

Love you too. 

Yeah, I know. How’s work? 

Youngbae just discovered your instagram and is upset you haven’t followed him yet. 

Tell him I’m busy and he can wait. 

Now he’s pouting in the corner and refuses to practice. 

I just followed him. 

❤️❤️❤️❤️ want me to swing by when we’re done? 

Obviously. 

See you in a few. 

Love you ❤️

You held your phone tightly to your chest for a minute. How was it possible to be this in love with someone? You sent a text to Soohyuk thanking him again before putting your phone down for the night. You spent the rest of your alone time thinking over the idea of living together. It was soon, it had only been a couple of months, but when you knew you knew, right? Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to live in the same space, to be able to see each other before and after work each night. In fact, it sounded really nice. You were so far gone for that man, it almost scared you a little. But you knew with him, there was nothing to fear and falling in love with him was the easiest thing you’d ever done.

It’s been two days since Dragon told you that, for one evening, you’d become a real part of his world, but he hasn’t said anything else since then. You had no idea what that actually meant or what was waiting for you, and that uncertainty and not knowing made you a little uneasy.

What scares you even more is the worry and fear for your brother. Siwoo has always been hot-headed, never able to deal with problems calmly, and maybe that’s why that confrontation between him and Dragon even happened. Maybe Siwoo should be grateful that Dragon hasn’t chosen a more drastic solution. At least for now.

Junho.

That name has been echoing in your head ever since you heard it from Dragon, and even though you don’t know that man, your imagination works well enough to fill in what kind of person he might be. Dragon was absolutely right that during your time here you’ve slowly been collecting little pieces of who he is and what he does, but none of your “investigation” has given you a real answer about what kind of person is actually hiding behind that mask.

“Fox, hey, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a few times when you realize Dragon is standing next to you, probably for a while already, while you’ve been staring off into the distance and the book in your hands has really just been a prop for Instagram pictures…

“Don’t call me like that,” you snap, trying to act like he didn’t just interrupt your thoughts about him and everything that’s happened over the past few days.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not my name.”

“That’s how you introduced yourself the first night.”

“That was sarcasm, in case you didn’t get it.”

“I got it, I’m fairly intelligent… and I like calling you like that.”

Even though the sun is shining straight into your eyes and you can’t see his face clearly, you catch the unmistakable smirk.

“I don’t care what you like,” you snap again, closing the book because there’s no point pretending you’re reading when your mind is somewhere else anyway.

“Fox,” he continues as if he hadn’t said anything wrong and as if your protests mean nothing. They don’t, you just keep trying to have the last word. “There’s a… party tonight. A private event, a few of my… acquaintances… You’re coming with me.”

“What? Tonight?” you immediately stand up, now facing him. “What kind of event is it? I… what am I supposed to do there? Who’s going to be there? I don’t have anything to wear and—”

“You’re asking too many questions even though you already know I won’t tell you more. Your job is not to embarrass me and not to do anything stupid. If you manage that, maybe we can do this again sometime and you’ll get another chance to leave the penthouse, at least for a while.”

“But—”

“There’s a dress waiting for you in the guest room. Try it on sometime today… it should fit you.” His voice stays calm as he walks back from the sky terrace into the living room and you follow him. “I’ll be back at seven. Be ready, because we’re leaving at eight.”

He leaves and you’re left standing in the middle of the living room, trying to process what just happened. Then you go to the guest room and find the dress. It’s wrapped in silk paper, and as you really look at it, it crosses your mind that it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve seen in years. A deep burnt orange color, like late afternoon light, long silk fabric almost reaching the floor, one shoulder exposed, the back open down to your lower back…

You put the dress on and stand in front of the mirror. You have a hard time recognizing yourself. He guessed your size perfectly, every detail without even asking. You study every part of yourself in the reflection, your face, your messy hair that you’ll need to fix, your neckline, everything… You think about what kind of event is waiting for you tonight, who will be there, what your role will be… but you don’t get any real answers anyway…

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

You’ve been in the bathroom for almost an hour when you hear Dragon returning to the penthouse. You recognize the soft beep of the key card instantly, and it hits you that, over the past few days, that sound has started to feel like relief, something you actually look forward to, even if you don’t want to admit it. You hear his footsteps getting closer to your room, to your bathroom, while you finish your makeup. You can’t even remember the last time you put this much effort into getting ready to go out…

“I’m almost done,” you mumble as you apply mascara, catching Dragon’s reflection in the mirror as he leans against the doorframe and watching you. He’s wearing a black suit, and you notice he’s holding something in his hands. You finish your mascara and finally turn to face him.

“Are we going to a masquerade?” you ask a little too sarcastically, when you realize what he’s holding are two masks. One of them is gold, almost regal, while the other must be yours, though you haven’t had much chance to look at it properly yet.

“In your excitement about getting to leave the penthouse for one evening, you’re forgetting that you’re stepping into my world, which is very different from yours,” he replies calmly, ignoring your comment, and hands you the mask that will be yours tonight.

You look down at your mask, carefully turning it between your fingers and taking in every detail. It’s a mix of colors, mostly white with orange and black accents. A fox drawn in painted lines, with dark orange to red tassels that match your dress perfectly, and small silver bells that softly chime with every movement as you keep turning it in your hand.

“Fox?” you ask, even though you already know the answer, and Dragon just nods.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The same driver who took you to Dragon’s penthouse a few days ago is now driving both of you to an unassuming building in Gangnam. At least you think it’s Gangnam, because you’re carefully trying to follow the route, but at times it feels like you’re going in circles, as if you’re not supposed to know where you’re actually going, like the whole point is to confuse you or at least make sure you could never describe the way to anyone…

The car stops in front of an inconspicuous entrance on a quiet street. You glance at Dragon, who nods toward the mask resting in your lap. “Put it on,” he says simply, while he slips on his own gold mask.

The mask fits tightly against your face as you step out of the car. You adjust to the limited vision and to the soft chiming of the little bells with every movement you make. It almost feels like you’re wearing some kind of tracking device, something Dragon could use to find you anytime. You don’t know if it’s intentional or just a coincidence, but there’s probably no point overthinking it.

You stay where you are, waiting until Dragon walks around the car and comes closer to you. His hand slides to the lower part of your bare back as he guides you down a dim staircase. As you walk, he leans closer to your ear.

“Stay close to me,” he says quietly. “Don’t do anything stupid, don’t answer personal questions, don’t go anywhere on your own, if you’re unsure about anything, look at me… and don’t embarrass me. Do we understand each other?”

Your heart starts beating faster. The stairs are steep, and it feels like you’re descending somewhere deep, almost like into hell itself. You try to focus on everything he’s telling you, but his closeness and the warmth of his hand on your lower back keep distracting you.

“We do,” you reply, trying to keep your voice from shaking.

When you step inside, it’s completely different from anything you could have imagined. The space is large, luxurious, and private. The lighting is dim, expensive surfaces reflect the light in dark tones, and everywhere you look… masks. Everyone in the room is wearing one, and it creates something beautiful, but also slightly unsettling, almost surreal.

You’re still very aware of Dragon’s hand on your back as he leads you toward the bar. You notice the way people in the room look at you, or nod at Dragon as you pass. If someone had ever told you that parties like this exist, you probably would’ve told them they have way too vivid an imagination.

By the time you reach the bar, you barely register what Dragon says to the bartender, too busy looking around. In a strange way, it feels both exciting and unsettling at the same time. Your attention is caught by a wolf mask worn by an older man, you assume he’s older only because of his thick white hair, surrounded by several people. Clearly, he’s someone worth noticing.

“Dragon, it’s been a while since we last saw each other…” You turn toward a woman wearing a beautifully decorated green mask, paired with even more stunning dress.

“Orchid, it’s good to see you. I’ve been busy, not much time,” Dragon dips his head slightly, while you’re not quite sure where to look. You’re grateful for the mask, because Orchid is watching you with unmistakable interest.

“I can see that…” she replies, her gaze never leaving you. Even without seeing her eyes properly, you can feel it, like it burns somewhere deep along your spine. “Call me,” she adds before moving away toward a group dominated by a man in a red tiger mask, where everyone seems to be having a good time.

You think of your brother, because you can’t help it. You’re standing in this room full of hidden faces, thinking about Siwoo, wondering if any of these people know his name, if some of his debts belong to someone behind one of these masks, if they all have real faces just like Dragon…

You gladly accept the glass of champagne Dragon slides toward you across the bar and drink almost all of it in one go. You have to admit, this is not at all how you imagined your “night out” from the penthouse.

“Careful,” Dragon smirks. “You wouldn’t want to embarrass me or yourself by ending up drunk on the floor.” He takes a sip from his own glass.

“I can control myself,” you snap, nodding at the bartender for another drink, already knowing you won’t survive this evening sober.

“Oh, really? I’ve already had the pleasure of witnessing your control… quite impressive,” he remarks, and even with the mask, you can tell exactly what kind of amused expression he’s wearing.

“If I didn’t have control, I’d probably pass out from this whole circus by now…” you say dryly, taking another sip from your fresh glass.

“I’ll make a note of another thing that makes your knees weak. I already know the first one quite well,” he taps his fingers lightly against the bar, his lips curling into a satisfied smirk. Heat rises to your cheeks and you look away. Still, you can’t help the faint smile, because this slightly flirtatious side of Dragon… you like it. It feels like being around people, even like this, has somehow loosened both of you.

After a moment, you look back at him, only to realize his attention is already somewhere else. A woman is approaching you, wearing a simple silver mask and a shimmering silver dress that must have caught the attention of every man she passed. She’s stunning… and she’s walking straight toward you.

You watch Dragon straighten up and adjusting his jacket. You can almost feel the tension building in him with every step she takes closer.

“Silver…” Dragon says, far too quietly, far too gently and in a tone you’ve never heard from him before.

“Dragon, I thought you wouldn’t show up tonight. You’ve been neglecting us lately,” Silver says, tilting her head slightly. Even without seeing their faces, you can feel the tension between them. You’re a woman, and your instincts are sharp enough to tell that whatever is between Silver and Dragon is very different from what you just witnessed between him and Orchid.

“I… I’m sorry. I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again…” Dragon says, and your chest tightens. The tone, the words, the intimacy in his voice send an undeniable wave of jealousy through you. You shift your weight nervously, and if you could, you would leave right now. You have no right to feel this way. You’re just a stupid piece in this whole situation, someone who ended up here by accident. But you can’t help it…

Before Silver can respond, a man in a jackal mask appears behind her. His hand settles firmly on her back before his gaze briefly flicks to you and then to Dragon.

“Dragon, you’re bringing your toys to parties now? That’s a bit beneath you, don’t you think?”

You feel Dragon straighten even more and his posture going rigid. “Jackal,” he acknowledges, and you notice he’s the first person Dragon has bowed to since you arrived. He doesn’t react to the comment just letting it hang in the air. “This is Fox, my companion for tonight.”

“Cute,” Jackal clicks his tongue, pulling Silver closer to him. “My offer still stands, Dragon. Changed your mind?”

“No, thanks,” Dragon snaps through clenched teeth. You’re more confused than ever. You don’t know whether his sudden shift in mood is because of Jackal’s offer, or the way Jackal is openly claiming Silver. Neither of those things are any of your business… but you desperately hope it’s the first.

“Shame…” Jackal says, turning his gaze back to you, and it burns enough to make you lower your head. “Very cute, this Fox… Enjoy the rest of your night...” Before Dragon can react, Jackal is already walking away with Silver through the center of the room.

As she leaves, Silver glances back at Dragon once more, and from the corner of your eye, you see that his gaze is still fixed on her.

“Who were they?” you clear your throat nervously, trying to pull his attention back to you.

“That’s not important,” Dragon says once he finally looks at you again. “We should go, it’s late. I think I’ve already kept my promise to you,” he adds, as if your opinion even mattered in whether you leave or not. You can feel the shift in him, in the way he carries himself. He seems colder now, like that one conversation was enough to make him put his armor back on, shutting out anything human, as if just moments ago you hadn’t been sharing that light, almost playful conversation that felt like a quiet kind of comfort…

You stay a little longer, waiting for the driver Dragon called. You can tell his gaze is still searching the room, looking for Silver, for Jackal, and it makes you feel sick. You feel even more helpless, more desperate, and you start regretting that you ever asked to leave the penthouse. All of this might have happened without you anyway, but at least you wouldn’t have had to witness it firsthand…

The ride home is quiet. You hold the fox mask in your lap, watching Seoul blur past the windows and trying to sort through everything you’re taking away from tonight. The woman in the silver mask and everything that was left unsaid. Jackal’s offer and the way he hinted at something he had offered Dragon before. The way Dragon’s hand slipped from your back the moment Silver crossed the room… And, of course, your brother, his plan, the promise he made to Dragon, the one-month deadline. It’s all too much at once, too many things to process, and your mind is too dulled by champagne to make sense of it all right now.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

The penthouse is dark when you return, and Dragon turns on a standing lamp in the living room, which suddenly fills with soft and warm light.

“Go to sleep, it’s late,” he says without even looking at you. You watch as he tosses the gold mask he’s been holding onto the coffee table and reaches into the minibar for a bottle of whiskey. He pours himself a glass and walks over to the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the night view of Seoul with his back turned to you.

You stand there for a moment, unsure what to do. You wish, desperately, that you could read minds right now, see inside Dragon’s head… What is he thinking about? Silver? Jackal?

Without hesitating, you walk straight toward him. You shouldn’t, but you feel this overwhelming need to touch him. You stop just behind him, only a few centimeters away, and hesitantly raise your hands and wrapping them around his waist. It might be too bold, maybe even too desperate, but you can’t stop yourself. “Thank you for letting me leave the penthouse tonight…” you mumble and resting your forehead against his back. His scent is already so familiar, so safe, that you can’t help pressing your face slightly into his shirt.

You feel his body tense for a moment, and you brace yourself for any kind of reaction. He might push you away, tell you again to go to sleep, anything… Instead, his free hand, the one not holding the glass, reaches for your forearm where your hands are clasped around him and gently squeezes it.

“You don’t have to thank me. I promised you, and I keep my promises. I know it’s hard for you here…” Goosebumps rise on your skin as his hand slowly moves along your forearm. His touch is so gentle, his body so solid, that you close your eyes without thinking and exhale softly into his shirt.

“What does Silver mean to you?” The question slips out before you can fully think it through. His body stiffens, and only then do you realize how bold and how inappropriate that question was.

Dragon removes your hands from his waist and turns to face you. “What?” he asks, his brows drawing together slightly, as if he didn’t quite hear you right.

You lower your gaze, but you don’t step back. “I mean… ever since you talked to her, you’ve been… different. I saw the way you looked at her…”

Silence settles between you, and you force yourself to lift your head again so you can see his face. For a moment it looks like his eyes are glistening, but you can’t tell if it’s emotion, the lighting, or just the alcohol.

“Your observation skills never cease to amaze me, Fox…” he says quietly. You expected an answer, but instead, his hand moves to your face, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers lingering in your hair for a moment. “Don’t burden that clever head of yours with other people’s problems… I think you already do that far too often, and it only brings you unnecessary trouble…”

You’re not entirely sure whether he means your brother or something else, because you don’t really know how much Dragon knows about you. You only know that he knows enough. And suddenly, your question feels far too personal.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, lowering your head again. “Sometimes I’m just too curious.”

“You’re curious… and always trying to stay one step ahead, aren’t you?” he says softly, his fingers sliding from your hair to your chin and gently lifting it so you’re forced to look at him again. His gaze lingers on your face, studying every detail.

“I guess… I guess I do,” you breathe out, swallowing hard. His gaze is intense, and that overwhelming urge to kiss him comes back again. Your eyes drop to his lips. Dragon finishes the rest of his whiskey and sets the empty glass down on the table beside the window.

“But you shouldn’t forget that I’m always three steps ahead of you, Fox… always,” he whispers, brushing his thumb over your lips. “You’re adorably bold, daring to ask questions like that… Even after tonight, you still don’t fully realize what kind of world you’ve stepped into, do you?”

“I realize it very well… it’s just… this world of yours fascinates me more than it probably should…” you whisper just as quietly and your breath hitching when his fingers slide from your lips to your jaw.

“Is it my world that fascinates you… or is it me, Fox?”

You decide words are pointless in this moment. Your gaze drops to his lips at the same time your hands move to the back of his neck and pulling him closer so you can finally kiss him.

Dragon immediately kisses you back, and you can taste the whiskey on his tongue. His hands move to your hips, pulling you closer. You turn, and for a moment you break the kiss and letting out a surprised breath when your bare back hits the cold glass of the floor-to-ceiling window. Dragon pins you against it, pressing you firmly in place, and you tilt your head slightly. Maybe it’s the champagne, or maybe you’re drunk on him, but the position isn’t entirely comfortable. You trust the glass, but not enough to feel calm. You lift your gaze back to him.

“You didn’t answer my question, Fox,” he says calmly, tightening his grip on your hips as he presses you harder against the glass.

“And you didn’t answer mine…”

Dragon lets out a low chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief as both his hands squeeze your ass firmly. His right hand slides up your back and finding the zipper of your dress. “You still have a lot to learn about negotiation. With that kind of approach, you’ll never get an answer…” he murmurs and leaning down to kiss you again. The strap of your dress slips off your shoulder, and before you even realize it, the dress drops to your ankles and leaving you standing in front of him in nothing but your panties, while he’s still fully dressed.

Any embarrassment that would normally take over is drowned out by the champagne still running through your body and by the way he’s looking at you. You press yourself against him and reach for the belt of his pants and starting to undo it while kissing him again. His hands move to his shirt, unbuttoning it with practiced ease, one button after another, until both of you are left in your underwear.

He grabs both your hands, lacing his fingers with yours as he walks backward toward the couch. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap, so you’re straddling him. You lean down and kiss him, your fingers sliding into his hair, tugging gently. Dragon’s left hand runs along your thigh, while his right hand moves to your panties and pushing them aside. His fingers circle over your wet folds, and his lips curl into a satisfied smile.

“I think I already have my answer…”

“Shut up,” you breathe out and your hips arching against his hand as you desperately search for friction, for him.

“You should work on your vocabulary as well,” he hisses as he pushes two fingers inside you. “Fuck… you’re always so wet, so fucking needy,” his fingers move inside you in slow and deep thrusts, and you throw your head back, digging your nails into his shoulders. “Ride me… show me how badly you want to fuck me, Fox…”

You lift yourself just enough for him to pull off his boxers and your panties. He drags the tip of his cock through your wet folds and letting out a low, satisfied groan as you slowly lower yourself onto him.

“That’s it…” he murmurs and watching where your bodies meet. He gives you only a brief moment to adjust to the way he fills you before his hands slide from your thighs under your ass. You start to lift yourself slowly and sink back down onto him again.

You look into his dark eyes that have locked onto yours. His gaze is slightly clouded with alcohol, just like yours, but still fully present in this moment.

“Oh, God…” you moan, throwing your head back as you roll your hips, finding the exact angle you need, the one that hits that spot inside you and makes you see stars. You pick up your pace until your legs start to tremble slightly. Dragon keeps his hands under your ass and guiding your movements. The tension builds with every thrust, and you dig your nails deeper into his shoulders.

“Look at me, Fox…” Dragon whispers, and you open your eyes to meet his. In this dim light, he’s unbelievably beautiful and intoxicating. You take in his parted lips, his quickened breathing, the way his expression changes every time you slam down on him harder. You feel like you could come just from looking at him…

You hold his gaze until the wave rising inside you becomes too much. You throw your head back again and your movements turning uncontrolled and desperate.

“I’m so close…” you whimper, leaning back and bracing your hands against his knees. You don’t care how desperate you look right now, you just need to come. “God, yes…”

The orgasm crashes over you, and if Dragon didn’t catch you, you’d probably collapse to the floor at his feet. You’re breathing hard, barely aware of him pulling you back against him. His hands grip the underside of your thighs as he starts thrusting up into you.

“Give me one more, come with me, Fox…” he rasps as he keeps driving up into you from below. You whimper, overly sensitive now. The obscene, wet sounds of him fucking you echo against the windows, and you feel another wave building inside you.

You feel your muscles tightening around him again and making him groan under his breath. His moan is the most addictive sound you’ve ever heard, and you follow him willingly, your second orgasm hitting even harder than the first. Dragon comes at the same time you do.

You collapse onto his chest, resting your forehead in the space between his neck and shoulder, trying to steady your breathing, your body still shaking from the aftershocks. You’re painfully aware of the way one of his hands moves gently along your lower back, while the other slips into your hair and softly stroking it.

His chest is still rising and falling heavily beneath you, and you’re overwhelmed by the deep sense of satisfaction from everything you’re feeling right now.

The silence stretches for too long, and you know you should move, should say something, but you still can’t find the courage to lift your head or look in his eyes.

Luckily Dragon solves it for you. He runs his hand over your bare shoulder and presses lightly and making you sit up again. Suddenly, you feel far too exposed, not knowing where to look.

“We should go to sleep,” he says, but he doesn’t move yet. “It’s late,” he adds and reaching for his shirt, the one he had taken off just moments ago. He drapes it over your shoulders, and his hands slide from your shoulders to your cheeks for a moment. His gaze burns, slipping through every part of you and making you feel exposed all over again. For a second it almost feels like he might pull you back in and kiss you again, but it’s probably just your own wishful thinking.

You get off his lap and pull his shirt closer around your body, trying not to feel completely exposed. Dragon stands up right after you and pulls on only his boxers. You walk down the hallway toward your room and your legs still trembling. This was so much more intense than before. You keep replaying it in your head, the way he looked at you, the way his expression shifted as he got closer, the way he touched you, the way he smelled, the way…

“Y/N…”

You stop mid-step and your whole body going still. For a moment, you wonder if you’re just that drunk, or if you’re imagining things, lost in the haze of him. Your chest tightens as the sound of his voice saying your name, your real name, echoes in your ears. You stand there in the middle of the hallway before forcing yourself to turn around. Dragon is standing a few steps away from the door to his bedroom.

“I don’t want to fall asleep alone tonight…” he says quietly. You notice the way his shoulders are slightly slumped. Standing there like that, just in his boxers, hair messy, he looks almost… vulnerable, almost normal. Your heart flips in your chest, and you find yourself unable to say anything, which he probably takes the wrong way. “Sorry, that’s stupid, I just thought—”

“Okay,” you cut him off before he can finish his words, and you slowly walk back down the hallway toward him and his bedroom.

You don’t know what will happen in the morning, you don’t know if anything has changed, you don’t know if this moment of vulnerability is because of you, or Silver, or anyone else from tonight, but there’s one thing you do know. You don’t want to fall asleep alone tonight either….