s w e e t m i s e r y .

Another shout from downstairs snapped you back to reality.

“Now, Y/N!”

You sighed, pushing yourself out of bed. There was no time to linger, no time to argue with the life you didn’t want. You grabbed the first pair of jeans you could find and pulled on a hoodie, ignoring the reflection staring back at you from the mirror.

As you rushed toward the door, you cast one last glance at the guitar.

One day, you promised silently. You just didn’t know how - or when.

The staircase creaked lightly under your feet as you hurried down. The mansion’s grand foyer stretched wide around you - polished floors, tall white pillars, a chandelier that sparkled like it wanted to shame you for looking so… normal. Your sister Elena was already waiting near the front hall, perfectly styled, as always. Her pastel skirt and fitted jacket made her look like she was posing for a photoshoot instead of going to school. When she turned and saw you, her expression twisted instantly.

“Seriously?” she said, her eyes dragging slowly from your hoodie to your sneakers. “You look like you just crawled out of a dumpster. People will think we’re poor.”

You exhaled through your nose, not in the mood. Before you could respond, your brother Ashton appeared behind her, adjusting the cuffs of his suit jacket - because of course he paired it with jeans in a way that somehow made him look expensive. He rolled his eyes at Elena.

“Leave her alone,” he muttered.

But then he looked at you properly. His gaze traveled from your messy hair to your mismatched socks, and his jaw tightened with that familiar mix of brotherly concern and judgment. “…But yeah,” he added quietly, “you should really get a grip of yourself.”

You swallowed the sting, looking away.

Footsteps clicked sharply across the marble before your mother appeared, her posture straight as a blade, her voice clipped.

“Enough.” She glanced between the three of you, though her disapproval settled mostly on you. “We’re not doing this today.” She smoothed her blazer and gestured toward the door. “This will be the last morning I have to drive you,” she said. “The new chauffeur is supposed to arrive today and introduce himself. Until then, let’s at least try to look like a presentable family.” Her eyes lingered on your hoodie.

You nodded without saying a word, feeling the weight of the house around you - luxurious, pristine, cold. You told yourself it was just morning. Just another day.

The car ride to school blurred past the windows, but your thoughts were louder than the engine. They usually were. Mornings like this always pulled you back through the years, reminding you of how everything in your life had been shaped long before you ever had a say. You had been born into a world most people only saw on magazine covers - a mansion, prestige, money, influence. Your father had built an empire from the ground up, becoming one of the most distinguished businessmen in the country. Because of that, he traveled constantly. Meetings in Dubai, conferences in New York, negotiations in Singapore. Your childhood memories of him were stitched together out of airport pickups, rushed dinners, and the rare soft smiles he saved only for you.

Those small moments were why you always felt closer to him than to your mother. He listened. He encouraged. He asked you about your dreams without immediately dismissing them. But he was also the parent who was almost never home. And the older you grew, the more that absence hollowed out a space inside you.

Your mother filled that space - strictly, precisely, and on her own terms. She had always known exactly what she wanted her children to become. Ashton, the eldest, was her pride. Her perfect success story. Harvard and Stanford had both offered him scholarships, and she never missed a chance to remind the world of it. He was her darling - brilliant, polished, reliable. Elena, the youngest, was her treasure. The baby of the family, pampered, adored, granted every little luxury she demanded. Your mother practically glowed whenever Elena entered a room.

And then there was you. The middle child. The one who didn’t quite fit into the picture-perfect family portrait your mother tried so hard to display. The one who wore hoodies instead of blazers. The one who scribbled lyrics on napkins instead of studying case law. The one who dreamed of music in a house where music was considered a “waste of time.”

You could still hear your mother’s voice echoing in your head.

“You will study law. You will become respectable. Music is not a career - it’s a hobby for people who don’t understand responsibility.”

Every time she said it, a small part of you dimmed. Because music wasn’t a hobby to you. It was the only thing that ever felt like home, more than the mansion ever had.

You stared out the window as the mansion faded into the distance behind the car. Your life was polished on the outside, gleaming, enviable. But inside, you always felt like an outsider in your own family. Like you were living someone else’s dream instead of your own. You wondered, not for the first time, if there would ever be a day when you truly belonged somewhere. Or with someone.

By the time you reached school, the hallways buzzed with noise, doors slamming, conversations overlapping, footsteps echoing against lockers. But none of it touched you. You drifted through it like a ghost, your mind still tangled in the heaviness of the morning.

You sat down at your desk by the window, your cheek resting against your hand as you stared outside. The sky was pale, almost washed-out, and the trees swayed lazily in the breeze. You watched a few students cross the courtyard, their laughter faint and distant. Everything felt far away, like you were observing your life from behind glass. Your thoughts looped back to your father. He would be home soon. Which meant your mother’s carefully constructed plans would move forward again. University tours. Law brochures. Meetings with professors your mother already admired. You felt a tightness coil in your chest.

“Earth to you,” a familiar voice chirped beside you.

You blinked and turned. Luna plopped into the chair next to yours, leaning forward with concern pulling at her features. Her curly hair bounced as she tilted her head.

“You okay?” she asked quietly. “You look… not okay.”

You sighed, fingers idly tracing patterns on your notebook. “My dad’s coming home soon. Which means we’ll start visiting unis for the law program.” The words came out flat, like they belonged to someone else.

Luna’s frown deepened. “You haven’t talked to them again? About studying music?”

A dry laugh slipped out of you. “Talked to them? Luna, they think music is a waste of time. My mom says I’m being unrealistic. My dad… I don’t even know what he thinks anymore.”

She didn’t say anything at first. She just looked at you with that mixture of sympathy and stubborn optimism she seemed to always carry. Then her expression suddenly brightened. “Okay, I didn’t want to do this yet,” she whispered dramatically, “but I come bearing gifts.”

She reached behind her back like a magician revealing her final trick and pulled out two tickets, waving them in the air with both hands.

“Ta-daaa!” she squealed, nearly bouncing out of her seat. “Concert tickets! My brother got them for us. His band is opening for this rising boy group. It’s in a few weeks!”

Your eyes widened despite yourself. “What? Luna- That’s amazing.”

“I know, right?” She shoved the tickets into your hands. “So? You’re coming with me, yes?”

Your excitement faltered. Reality snapped it in half before it could grow. “I… Luna, I’d love to. Really. But my mom would never let me go to a concert.”

Luna groaned and threw her head back dramatically. “Ugh, your mom needs to chill. Just sneak out!”

You blinked at her, startled. “What? Luna, that’s-”

“-the only way you’re going to live your own life,” she cut in, poking your arm. “Come on. Just once. You deserve a night that’s actually yours.”

You stared at the tickets in your hands, the glossy paper catching the light. For a moment, you imagined yourself there - music blasting, lights sweeping across the crowd, the energy pulsing through you. A world where your heart was allowed to breathe.

Luna smiled softly. “Think about it, okay?”

You nodded, folding the tickets carefully. You were already thinking about it more than you should.

School ended with the usual rush of bodies pushing toward the exit, chatter filling the air as everyone scattered toward cars, bikes, and the bus stop. Ashton had texted that he was staying late for a meeting, and Elena had already left with her friends. You didn’t want to call your mother. You didn’t want to walk home either. So you chose the bus.

You should’ve known better.

You found an empty seat near the middle and sank into it, pulling your hoodie over your hands as you stared out the window. The bus doors hissed shut. And then you heard it.

A laugh. Sharp. Fake. Cruel.

“Well, well, well… look who we have here.”

Your stomach dropped. Ava. Flanked by her two loyal shadows, Madison and Chloe. They strutted down the aisle like they owned it, and the moment Ava spotted you, her smirk widened. “Oh my God,” she said loudly, making sure the entire bus heard. “You’re taking the bus? That’s adorable. What happened? Did your rich mummy finally throw you out?”

Her friends giggled on cue.

She looked you up and down, eyes lingering on your hoodie and jeans. “And the outfit? Yikes. At least brush your hair if you’re gonna cosplay as poor.”

You clenched your jaw, refusing to shrink. “What do you want, Ava?”

She leaned closer, her perfume sharp and suffocating. “You know exactly what I want.” Her eyes gleamed with something ugly. “I want you to set me up with your brother.”

You laughed - you couldn’t help it. “Yeah. As if Ashton would ever go for a nasty, greedy girl like you.”

Her smile vanished instantly. The bus fell silent. Ava grabbed the bubble tea from Chloe’s hand, ripped the lid off, and before you could even flinch - SPLASH. Cold, sticky sweetness poured over your hand, soaking into your sleeve. Gasps filled the bus. Someone whispered, “Oh my God…”. You stared at your dripping hand, stunned.

Ava leaned down, her voice low and venomous. “Don’t ever mess with me again.” She straightened, tossed her hair, and added, “You have until prom to make your brother ask me. You don’t even want to know what’ll happen if you fail.”

She snapped her fingers, and her girls followed her off the bus, laughing as if they’d just performed a magic trick instead of humiliating you. The doors hissed shut again. And you sat there, sticky and shaking, your misery soaking deeper than the bubble tea.

Outside, the world kept moving. Inside, you wished you could disappear.

By the time you stepped through the front door of the mansion, the bubble tea had dried into a sticky film across your sleeve, your hair clumped together, and your makeup smudged in uneven streaks. You hoped that maybe you could sneak upstairs before anyone saw you. You barely took two steps inside when your mother’s voice sliced through the foyer.

“What on earth happened to you?!”

She stared at you as if you were something dragged in from the street, not her child. Her eyes flicked from your tangled hair to your stained hoodie, pure mortification settling in. “Never mind,” she said sharply, waving a hand. “The new chauffeur is already here. You don’t have time for a shower. Go to the living room. Now. And keep your head down.”

Your stomach twisted. Perfect. Exactly what you needed - to meet staff looking like you’d lost a fight with a smoothie.

You walked toward the living room, wiping your hand uselessly against your jeans. The moment you stepped inside, you felt your siblings’ eyes on you. Ashton sat on one end of the couch, Elena on the other - both clean, put-together, glowing in that effortlessly polished way they had. Elena’s lip curled immediately. “Oh my God,” she muttered. “You look disgusting.” Ashton didn’t say anything, but the crease in his brow said enough.

You kept your gaze low as you sat between them, heat creeping up your neck. You didn’t want the chauffeur thinking you were some kind of disaster. You didn’t want anyone seeing you like this - especially not someone new.

Footsteps approached. You looked at the floor, too embarrassed to lift your head as the family’s new chauffeur cleared his throat politely. You could see the tips of polished black shoes through your lashes - but then you noticed another pair beside them. Smaller. Younger. You frowned slightly and finally raised your head. And everything inside you stopped.

Standing beside the chauffeur was a boy - probably around your age, maybe a little older. His hair was pitch black, styled into a slightly messy mullet with strands falling effortlessly across his forehead. His eyes were deep brown, warm but unreadable, framed by long lashes. And his lips… soft, delicate, naturally pink as if painted by some patient artist. He was beautiful - not in an obvious, polished way, but in a quiet, breathtaking way that made you stare longer than you meant to.

Your mother stepped forward, greeting the man.

“Welcome. We’re glad you could make it.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Y/L/N,” the man said with a small bow of his head. “This is my son, Nicholas. He will be assisting me with the job.”

Nicholas.

The name fit him somehow - gentle but strong, simple but striking.

His father placed a proud hand on his shoulder. “He’s very diligent and reliable. We promise to take our work here seriously.”

Nicholas lowered his gaze politely, hands clasped behind his back. He looked disciplined, respectful… almost too composed for someone so young. And then, as if drawn by something he couldn’t resist, he looked up.

Straight at you.

Your breath caught instantly - a tiny, involuntary sound trapped in your throat. For a heartbeat, it felt like the entire foyer fell silent. His eyes held yours, dark and steady, something searching flickering in them. Then, just as quickly - almost as though he hadn’t meant to look at you at all - he looked away, his jaw tightening slightly. You felt the echo of the moment still buzzing quietly through your chest.

You didn’t know him. He didn’t know you. But something had shifted the second his gaze met yours.

You felt it. And you were almost certain he had too.

Your mother’s smile was tight and practiced as she clasped her hands together.

“Thank you both for coming,” she said to the chauffeur and his son. “Our family expects professionalism, and I trust you’ll provide it.” Then, as if the words were a cue, her attention snapped toward you. “And you,” she added sharply. “Go take a shower. Immediately. You look unacceptable.”

You felt your face heat with shame. Before you could move, you heard something - a soft, low chuckle. Your eyes flicked up.

Nicholas.

He had looked down, shoulders shaking ever so slightly, trying to hide his laughter. But his father noticed instantly. You watched his dad nudge Nicholas’s shoe with his own, sending him a warning glare. Nicholas straightened so fast you almost laughed yourself. Then both of them bowed politely to your family.

“We will do our best,” the chauffeur said. Nicholas bowed again, more formally this time, avoiding your eyes completely. And just like that, they were gone.

You didn’t waste a second getting to your room. You dropped your backpack on the floor, grabbed clean clothes, and jumped into the shower. The warm water washed away the sticky tea, the humiliation, the exhaustion… at least a little.

When you finally returned to your room, hair damp and skin warm, you crawled into your bed and sank into the blankets. The world felt far away up here. You reached into your backpack and pulled out the concert ticket Luna had given you. The glossy paper reflected the dim lamp light. It looked like freedom. Like a breath you hadn’t taken yet. You wanted to go so badly it almost hurt. But sneaking out? Your mother would kill you. And your father… you didn’t even know.

You rolled onto your back and held the ticket above your face, biting your lip. “How am I even supposed to do this…?” you whispered into the quiet.

Then, out of nowhere, Nicholas’s face flashed through your mind.

Pitch-black hair. Dark brown eyes. That quick, unexpected glance you shared. And that tiny, stupid laugh he let slip when he looked at you.

Your heart kicked in your chest. Heat climbed up your cheeks.

“Stop,” you muttered to yourself, dropping the ticket onto your blanket. “Oh my god! Stop!” You covered your face with your hands.

How are you supposed to act normal in front of him now? After he saw you looking like a mess? After you caught him looking at you like… like that? You grabbed your pillow, pressed it over your face, and let out a muffled scream. You had absolutely no idea what this boy had done to you.

The next morning came far too quickly. You stood in front of your mirror longer than usual, brushing your hair, fixing your clothes, making sure everything looked… acceptable. More than acceptable, actually. You didn’t want a repeat of yesterday - and you definitely didn’t want Nicholas seeing you like that ever again.

When you finally headed downstairs, the house was already awake. The scent of breakfast drifted from the kitchen, and soft footsteps echoed along the marble floors. As you reached the bottom of the stairs, one of the housekeepers gave you a warm smile.

“Good morning, dear,” she said gently as she helped you into your jacket. “Have a good day at school.”

You thanked her, trying your best to smile back. She opened the front door for you and your stomach dropped so fast it almost hurt. Outside, parked neatly in the driveway, were two sleek black cars. Their engines hummed softly, doors already open. And beside each car stood the chauffeur and - Nicholas. Your breath caught before you could stop it. Nicholas was dressed in a black suit, paired with a crisp white shirt and a thin black tie. The morning light brushed against his features, highlighting how sharp yet soft he looked at the same time. His hair had been styled more neatly today, straighter, the strands falling slightly into his face so that his dark eyes were half-hidden. It made him look even more mysterious. Even more handsome. Even more… impossible to look away from.

He glanced up just as you stepped outside, and for a split second you felt your heart stop. You quickly dropped your gaze, pretending to fuss with your jacket. Behind you, Elena strutted out, perfectly styled as always, Ashton trailing after her. Their eyes swept past Nicholas like he was nothing more than part of the scenery - but you… you couldn’t help noticing everything.

Nicholas' father stepped forward, opening the door of his car. “Miss Elena, Mister Ashton - your vehicle is ready.” Your siblings climbed in without hesitation. And that meant-

Your stomach twisted painfully. Crap.

You were going to have to ride alone. With Nicholas.

You looked toward the second car. Nicholas stood beside the open door, waiting politely, his eyes briefly flicking up to meet yours again before he looked away. Your cheeks warmed instantly. This was going to be the longest car ride of your life.

Nicholas greeted you with a soft bow as you approached the car. “Good morning, miss,” he said, his voice calm and low.

You returned a small nod and slipped into the backseat, your hands smoothing over your skirt even though nothing felt smooth inside you. Nicholas closed the door gently and walked around to the driver’s side. Your pulse thudded in your ears. The car dipped slightly as he got in. He buckled his seatbelt with practiced movements, started the engine, and pulled away from the mansion. Silence filled the space immediately.

Heavy. Awkward. Loud in its own quiet way.

You wanted to say something, anything, to make it less uncomfortable. A simple “good morning” again, or even a harmless comment about the weather. But your mother’s rule squeezed around your throat like a cold hand: “No relationship with staff. No unnecessary conversation.” So you swallowed the words and stared out the window instead.

After a few minutes, curiosity tugged at you. Your eyes drifted to him, carefully, quietly, so he wouldn’t notice. Nicholas drove with his right hand resting at the top of the steering wheel, his left tapping a faint rhythm against the leather. Almost musical. His jaw tightened lightly every time he shifted lanes, the movement subtle but impossible not to notice once you saw it. He looked composed. Controlled. But small details betrayed something else - a hint of distraction, a quiet restlessness. Your gaze lifted a bit more. And in the rear-view mirror, you caught his eyes. Brown. Deep. Sharp. They were already on you. Your breath hitched.

For a heartbeat, neither of you looked away. The car seemed to fall into a slow, suspended moment - too intense for how new this all was. Then Nicholas’s eyes widened slightly, as if he’d been caught. He turned his attention back to the road so quickly you almost wondered if you imagined the entire thing. Your face grew warm, a heat spreading across your cheeks and down your neck. You pressed your nails lightly into your thighs to calm the sudden jolt of nerves.

What the hell was that?

You sank back into the seat, the silence even heavier now, not empty, but charged. Whatever had just passed between you… You felt it. And you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

The rest of the drive pressed down on you like a weight. You kept your gaze glued to the window, watching buildings and trees blur together beneath the overcast sky. Anything to avoid another accidental moment with Nicholas in the mirror. Your heart still hadn’t fully recovered from the first one. Nicholas didn’t speak either. The only sounds were the hum of the engine and the soft, rhythmic tapping of rain beginning to hit the windshield. The silence wasn’t empty anymore. It was tense, humming with something you couldn’t name.

By the time the car rolled into the school parking lot, the sky had opened up completely. Rain poured down in shimmering sheets, blurring the world outside into shifting silver. The car stopped. Before you could even reach for the handle, Nicholas was already out of the driver’s seat. You saw him move through the rain, circling the car with an umbrella in hand. Your chest tightened.

He opened your door smoothly, and cool air rushed in. “You may get out, miss,” he said softly.

You stepped out, the pavement wet beneath your shoes and he immediately lifted the umbrella higher to cover both of you.

And then it happened.

Your eyes met.

His were shadowed by the umbrella, dark and warm, framed by strands of rain-dampened black hair falling across his forehead. Something about him looked softer in the rain. More real. More impossible. The world seemed to slow, the sound of rain fading as if someone had turned the volume down. Your heart hammered. He didn’t look away. Not immediately. Not like he did in the car. And you couldn’t look away either.

The moment stretched - too long, too deep, too dangerous. Your breath stuttered. Panic struck you out of nowhere, instinct snapping you back into yourself. Before either of you could say a word, you shot your hand out, snapped the umbrella right out of his fingers, and practically bolted away from the car. You didn’t even care how rude it looked. You just needed distance. Air. Sanity. But then-

“Wait.”

His voice cut through the rain, low but clear. You froze mid-step. You didn’t turn around. Couldn’t. The rain tapped against the umbrella above your head as your whole body tensed, heat prickling at the back of your neck. Why was he calling you? Your fingers squeezed the umbrella handle so tightly your knuckles almost ached. Before you could turn around, Nicholas spoke again.

“You dropped something.”

You turned slowly, nerves buzzing beneath your skin. And your heart stopped.

In Nicholas’s hand - held delicately between two fingers so the rain wouldn’t touch it - was your concert ticket. The one Luna had given you. The one you had sworn to hide from your mother at all costs. Your stomach plummeted. You walked back toward him in stiff, quick steps and practically snatched the ticket out of his hand. Your fingers trembled as you shoved it into your pocket. Nicholas watched you. He didn’t look offended, just… curious. His head tilted slightly, strands of black hair falling into his eyes.

“Do you like this group?” he asked, voice low but gentle.

Your throat tightened. You looked away, gripping the umbrella harder.

“It’s not my ticket,” you muttered.

“Oh?” Nicholas’s eyebrows lifted slightly, his eyes widening just a fraction. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Well… you should go see them. They’re pretty good.”

Your head snapped back up.

“What?” You raised an eyebrow, your voice sharper than you intended as the words tumbled out: “And what does someone like you know about music?”

The moment the sentence escaped, regret twisted inside you. It sounded rude - harsher than you meant it. You opened your mouth to backtrack, to apologize - but Nicholas didn’t mind. Not even a little. Instead, he smirked. A small, confident, almost playful curve of his lips that hit you like a punch to the chest.

Rain pattered softly around you as he stepped back, his expression still softened by that quiet amusement. “I wish you a good day at school, Miss Y/N.”

He gave a small bow - polite, but that smirk never faded - before turning away and slipping back into the driver’s seat. The car pulled off smoothly, tires hissing against the wet pavement. You stood there alone, umbrella trembling slightly in your grip, rain misting the edges of your shoes. Nicholas’s words replayed in your head. His smirk. The way he’d looked at your ticket. The strange familiarity in his voice when he talked about the band. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something more behind what he said. Something he wasn’t telling you.

And you were left standing in the rain, wondering what on earth any of this meant - and why your heart wouldn’t calm down.

You stared at him for a moment longer, unsure of what to do, unsure of what this meant. But despite the thoughts racing through your head, you just laid there, watching him. Because for once, Jiung wasn’t teasing, wasn’t smirking - he was just peaceful. And you weren’t sure when you’d get to see him like this again.

Just as you were lost in your thoughts, Jiung suddenly mumbled, his voice husky from sleep, "Good morning."

Your heart nearly stopped.

You panicked, whispering back quickly, "G-good morning."

Jiung’s eyes slowly blinked open, still heavy with sleep, but the second they focused on you, a smirk tugged at his lips. "Were you watching me just now?" he asked, his voice still low, teasing.

Your face burned, and you immediately hissed, "I wasn’t!"

Jiung chuckled, his smirk deepening. "Whatever you say."

And before you could react, he suddenly draped his arm over you and pulled you closer, your body colliding against his chest. You sucked in a breath, taken aback by the sudden warmth, the way he fit so perfectly against you. Jiung rested his chin on top of your head, completely unbothered, while you were still trying to process what was happening.

Then, of course, he started teasing you again.

"So…" he mused, voice still heavy with sleep but dangerously smug, "you never told me what your favorite part of last night was."

Your entire body tensed. Jiung felt it. And he grinned.

"Oh?" His hand slowly traced light circles on your back, pretending to be innocent. "Was it when I had you on the sofa? Or maybe in the shower?"

You whimpered in embarrassment, burying your face in his chest. "Jiung, stop."

He laughed, clearly having way too much fun with this.

"But I’m curious," he teased, his voice silky smooth, his fingers now toying with the edge of the sheets. "You sounded like you were really enjoying yourself."

Your breath hitched, and you smacked his chest, making him chuckle.

"Can you just shut up?" you muttered, still hiding your face.

Jiung tilted his head, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You didn’t seem to want me to shut up last night," he murmured.

Your stomach flipped. And you knew, at that moment, that Jiung wasn’t going to let you live this down. Not now. Not ever.

"Hmm," he hummed, tapping his fingers against your hip. "I think my favorite part of last night was probably when you were on top of me."

Your stomach dropped.

He grinned. "It was such a great view."

You whimpered in embarrassment, covering your face with your hands. "Jiung, oh my god."

He chuckled, clearly loving how flustered you were. But then, something inside you clicked. You had spent all of last night being teased, tested, pushed to the edge. Maybe it was time to finally fight back.

Lowering your hands, you took a deep breath before tilting your head at him, feigning innocence as you said, "Well… I liked that part too."

Jiung blinked, looking pleasantly surprised.

You smirked slightly. "Because you finally let me take control for once."

Jiung’s eyes narrowed slightly, amusement flickering behind them as he let out a slow exhale, like he couldn’t believe you had just said that - but he loved it.

"Oh really?" he mused, his lips curling into a challenging smile. He shifted slightly, his fingers trailing slowly, deliberately down your thighs, the touch so light yet so intentional that it sent a fresh wave of heat through you. "Do you like being in control?" he murmured, his voice dropping into something even smoother, even more dangerous.

Your breath hitched.

Jiung leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, "Or do you enjoy it more when I take control of you?"

Your entire body tensed, heat flaring in your chest as Jiung’s fingers pressed just slightly into your skin, his touch both teasing and possessive. He was doing it again. The way he could effortlessly flip the dynamic back into his hands - teasing you, watching you react, waiting to see how much you could handle. And then, as if he hadn’t already pushed you far enough, he smirked and whispered,

"I think I’m ready for round four… or was it five? I lost count."

A giggle bubbled out of you, breaking the tension as you playfully smacked his chest.

"You’re unreal," you muttered, shaking your head.

Jiung grinned. "What? You tired already?"

You rolled your eyes before poking your index finger against his chest, smirking. "I just can’t believe how much stamina is hiding in such an innocent-looking guy."

Jiung’s smirk widened.

"Innocent?" he repeated, tilting his head slightly as if he couldn’t believe you had just called him that. Then, with zero hesitation, he leaned in again, his voice dropping into a low whisper right against your lips. "I think after last night, you know I’m anything but innocent."

You giggled again, unable to stop yourself, your cheeks warming at his words. Jiung chuckled softly, his fingers trailing back up your waist, his grip lazy yet firm, like he was still debating if he should pull you back under him all over again. And honestly? You weren’t sure you’d stop him if he tried.

Jiung’s fingers traced lazy, featherlight circles on your hip, his touch both teasing and deliberate, making your skin tingle beneath his fingertips. His eyes dropped lower, his gaze searching yours, something mischievous and unreadable flickering behind them.

Then, in a voice smooth and low, he whispered, "I’m suddenly craving breakfast."

Your mind was still hazy from sleep, so you didn’t think much of it at first.

"Breakfast?" you murmured sleepily, stretching slightly. "Sure, what do you want to-"

Before you could finish, Jiung’s lips captured yours in a deep, hungry kiss, his arms tightening around you as he pulled you flush against his body. You barely had a second to process before you felt it - the way his body pressed into yours, his morning glory against your thigh. And in this moment you realized what kind of breakfast he meant.

Your breath hitched as Jiung’s lips left yours, trailing soft, lingering kisses along your jaw, down to your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut, a breathless giggle slipping past your lips as you tilted your head back, giving him more space.

"Wait-" you managed between laughs, "what kind of breakfast were you talking about?"

Jiung’s lips paused against your skin, and then his head snapped up. A slow, mischievous smile spread across his lips, his eyes glinting with pure trouble.

And then, boldly, effortlessly, he said,

"You, of course."

Your breath hitched, your entire body heating up at the weight of his words. Jiung grinned at your reaction, clearly loving how easy it was to fluster you. Before you could even think of a response, his lips were back on your skin, trailing lower, his hands exploring the curves of your body, his fingers sliding dangerously close to your thighs.

"You’re getting shy again," he murmured against your collarbone, his voice silky smooth, his smirk pressing into your skin.

You whimpered, pressing your hands against his chest in a weak attempt to push him away - but he barely moved, his grip firm yet gentle, like he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.

"You were so bold last night," Jiung teased, tilting his head to watch you squirm beneath him. "Where did that confidence go, hmm?"

You groaned in embarrassment, hiding your face in his shoulder. "Jiung, you’re impossible."

He laughed, the sound low and full of amusement, before nipping lightly at your skin just to hear you gasp again.

"Maybe," he mused, running his fingers slowly down your spine, his touch so excruciatingly slow it made you shiver. His lips hovered near your ear, and with a smirk you could practically hear, he whispered, "But you like me this way."

And honestly? You did.

Jiung’s lips were everywhere, pressing slow, lingering kisses along your skin, each one leaving a trail of warmth in its wake. His touch wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t teasing anymore. It was deliberate, like he wanted you to feel everything. His lips brushed down your collarbone, each kiss slow, reverent, like he was memorizing every inch of you. Your breath came out uneven, your fingers tangling into his hair, and Jiung hummed softly, clearly enjoying the way your body reacted to him so easily.

"You’re so easy to please," he murmured against your skin, his voice smooth, velvety, like he wasn’t in a hurry to do anything but take his time with you.

Your stomach flipped, heat pooling in your chest as Jiung’s lips trailed even lower, his hands following, his touch both firm and incredibly gentle.

"You’re so beautiful," he whispered, his fingers skimming over your skin like he was afraid he might wake up from this moment.

You felt it then. This wasn’t just teasing anymore. This was Jiung taking care of you, showing you how much he wanted you in ways that words couldn’t.

Your breath hitched as his hands slowly slid between your thighs, his lips pressing soft, lingering kisses against your skin. Jiung glanced up at you, his dark eyes filled with something deeper now, something that made your chest feel tight, breathless, completely lost in him.

"You good?" he murmured, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah."

Jiung smiled, really smiled, before leaning down again, pressing another slow, devoted kiss against your skin.

"I want to make sure you don’t forget this morning," he murmured, his voice smooth and low, laced with something dangerous yet irresistible.

Your swallowed, your fingers sliding up his bare shoulders. "As if I could ever forget."

Jiung smirked, clearly pleased with your answer.

The air between you was suddenly thick with desire, the scent of your combined excitement intoxicating. Jiung leaned down and kissed your skin again, his hands roaming over your body, capturing every curve and contour.

Your breath hitched as Jiung's touch grew bolder. He slowly slid his hands under the blanket, peeling it away to expose your bare skin. The cool air hit against you, sending goosebumps across your body. Jiung's eyes darkened with want, his gaze lingering on you before moving lower.

Jiung’s mouth trailed a hot path down your neck, across your collarbone, and down to your chest. Your breath grew shallow as you felt the first brush of his tongue against your breast. Jiung took his time, exploring every inch of you with a gentle yet insistent hunger.

His kisses grew more urgent as he moved down your body, his hands skimming your hips before settling between your thighs. Your legs instinctively parted, giving Jiung access to the warmth and wetness that awaited.

Jiung paused for a moment, looking up at you, his eyes filled with a fiery passion that set your heart ablaze. "Is this okay?" He whispered, as his right hand gently wrapped around your thigh.

You nodded, unable to find the words to express the depth of your need. With a tender smile, Jiung lowered his head, and his mouth found its destination.

He took his time, savoring the moment, as his tongue slowly glided along your wet folds. You gasped, your body jolting with pleasure as he began to explore you, his licks tender yet insistent.

As he gently sucked on your sensitive spot, his fingers found your opening, sliding in easily with the wetness that had pooled there. He curled them inside you, his movements matching the rhythm of his mouth, and you could feel the tension building, your legs trembling.

You gripped his hair, trying to pull him closer, your hips bucking slightly as his tongue and fingers worked their magic. "Oh fuck, y-yes," you moaned, your voice thick with need.

Jiung chuckled softly, his touch growing more insistent as he began to pump his fingers just a little faster. "Someone's eager," he teased.

You gasped, your body responding to his touch with an intensity that surprised your. "You have no idea," you breathed, your eyes fluttering closed.

The room grew hotter, his mouth felt like heaven, and you couldn't hold back the sweet moans that escaped your lips as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

Each stroke of his tongue, each thrust of his fingers sent waves of pleasure through you. You grabbed onto Jiung‘s hair, your nails digging softly into his scalp as you tried to hold on to reality. But the sensation was too intense, and you could feel yourself slipping away into pure bliss.

As he began to move his fingers faster, Jiung pulled his mouth away, watching your reaction as he pushed another digit inside. The sensation was exquisite, your body tightening around him. "Does that feel good, hm?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Y-yes," you gasped, arching your back, "So good."

Jiung didn't stop. If anything, he intensified his efforts, his tongue flicking faster, his fingers moving deeper. Your breath grew ragged, your eyes squeezed shut as the intensity grew.

And then it hit you, your walls tightening around Jiung’s fingers, soft moans filling the room. The orgasm took you by surprise, like a sudden wave that crashed over you, leaving you trembling and gasping for air. Jiung held you through it, his touch gentle and soothing.

When you finally opened your eyes, the room bathed in a warm, golden glow. Jiung looked up at you, his hand still resting on your leg, gently stroking your sentive skin. "Good?" he asked, his voice a low purr.

You managed a nod, a soft smile playing on your lips. "More than good," you whispered, your cheeks burning.

He grinned, his grip on your thigh tightening just enough to make you shiver. "Good," he said.

You lay curled up against Jiung’s chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, feeling the warmth of his arm draped lazily around your waist. The morning had slowed, the urgency from before fading into something softer, quieter, almost peaceful.

"So…" Jiung mumbled, his fingers tracing absentminded shapes against your back. "I think I should head home now."

Your heart ached. You didn’t want him to leave. But you knew it was about time. You hesitated before nodding, trying to ignore the disappointment settling in your chest.

Jiung exhaled, stretching slightly beneath you. "Keeho and Intak are probably already wondering where I am."

Crap. Keeho and Intak.

Your body tensed as you suddenly remembered - they knew Jiung had driven you home… and he never went back. You sat up quickly, wide-eyed, turning to look at him. "Do you think they know…?"

Jiung chuckled, clearly amused by your panic. "Oh, they definitely know," he said, stretching his arms behind his head. "I mean, I drove you home and haven’t come back ever since."

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Oh my god."

Jiung sat up too, his laughter filling the room, before reaching out to gently pry your hands away from your face.

"What?" he teased, tilting his head. "Are you embarrassed?"

You sighed, avoiding his gaze. "No… I mean… maybe a little."

Jiung raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained.

"They’re my best friends, Jiung," you continued, huffing. "And now they know that…"

Jiung smirked, already knowing where you were going with this.

"That we did dirty things?" he finished for you.

Your entire face burned. "Jiung!" you groaned, smacking his arm, making him laugh again.

"So what?" he mused, completely unbothered. "They already knew you wanted me, so it doesn’t have to be awkward for you."

You gave him a deadpan look. "Not really helpful."

Jiung shrugged, grinning. "Well, I’m definitely not embarrassed."

You narrowed your eyes at him. "Of course, you’re not."

Jiung leaned in, lowering his voice just slightly, his lips curling into something wickedly smug. "Everyone can know that we had such good sex last night," he murmured.

Your cheeks burned. Before you could react, you buried your face back in your hands, completely mortified. Jiung laughed, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to your feet.

"Come on," he said, grinning as he guided you toward the living room, where his clothes were still scattered from the night before. And as he started pulling his shirt back over his head, you couldn’t help but wonder - what were Keeho and Intak going to say when they saw him again?

You and Jiung stood by the door, the air between you lighter now, yet still humming with the aftermath of everything that had happened. Jiung, now fully dressed, ran a hand through his messy hair, his signature smirk still tugging at his lips as he looked at you.

"Well," he said, his voice smooth and teasing, "thanks for a great night."

You nodded, still feeling a little dazed. "Of course… anytime." The moment the words left your mouth, you immediately regretted them.

Jiung’s smirk deepened. "Oh really?" He tilted his head slightly, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Anytime?"

Your cheeks burned, but before you could take it back, Jiung slipped his phone out of his pocket and held it out toward you.

"Well then," he mused, "how about you give me your number?"

Your stomach flipped.

"My… number?" you mumbled, not expecting that at all.

Jiung chuckled, clearly entertained by how flustered you were. "Yeah," he said casually, "so I can text you whenever I need some good company."

Your heart pounded, but you forced yourself to keep your cool, reaching for his phone and quickly typing in your number before you could overthink it. When you handed it back to him, Jiung grinned down at the screen.

"Awesome!" He slipped his phone back into his pocket. "I’ll text you later."

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Then, before you could react, Jiung leaned in, pressing one last, slow kiss against your lips - soft, but undeniably teasing, like he wanted to leave you thinking about it long after he was gone. By the time you could even process it, he was already pulling away, flashing you a grin, before stepping out the door. You stood there frozen for a second, the warmth of his lips still lingering on yours. As the door clicked shut, your fingers brushed against your lips, replaying the moment over and over again.

What just happened?

Even now, it still didn’t feel real. But then, you shook your head, exhaling slowly. This wasn’t supposed to be anything serious. You and Jiung had somehow agreed - without even saying it out loud - on something casual, no strings attached. That was the deal.

So, with that thought in mind, you pushed away the strange, lingering feeling in your chest and walked back into your apartment, pretending - at least for now - that you weren’t already waiting for his text.

The moment Jiung stepped back into the apartment, Keeho and Intak shot up from the couch, their eyes immediately locking onto him. Jiung barely had time to take off his shoes before they rushed over, standing in front of him with matching expressions of pure curiosity.

"So," Keeho started, arms crossed, eyebrows raised, "you’re finally back."

Jiung smirked, knowing exactly where this was going. "Miss me that much?"

"Shut up," Intak groaned. "You know what we’re about to ask you."

Jiung chuckled, walking past them and flopping onto the couch, completely unfazed. "Do I?"

Keeho and Intak immediately followed, sitting on either side of him.

Keeho leaned forward. "Come on, man," he grinned. "We know where you were. You drove y/n home and never came back. We’re not stupid."

Intak nodded eagerly. "Yeah, and now we need details."

Jiung laughed, shaking his head. "Nosy much?"

"Yes." They said in unison.

Jiung ran a hand through his hair, amused but not giving in easily. "There’s nothing to say."

Keeho scoffed. "Oh, please. You look way too pleased with yourself right now for there to be ‘nothing to say.’"

Jiung shrugged, fighting back a smirk. "Maybe I just had a really good sleep."

"Yeah, right," Intak snorted. "You’re glowing, dude. Spill it."

Jiung exhaled, leaning back against the couch, his smirk still intact. "Fine," he admitted. "I had a great night."

Keeho and Intak exchanged a knowing look, then both turned back to Jiung with the biggest grins.

"I KNEW IT." Keeho clapped his hands together, while Intak shook his head in disbelief.

Jiung just chuckled, still keeping his cool.

Intak narrowed his eyes. "Okay, but what does this mean? Like… for you and her?"

Jiung paused, resting his arm on the back of the couch.

"Nothing serious," he answered simply. "We agreed on keeping it casual."

Keeho and Intak blinked.

"Casual?" Keeho repeated, raising an eyebrow.

Jiung nodded, completely unfazed. "Yeah. No strings attached."

Intak hummed, watching Jiung carefully, as if trying to read him. "And you’re cool with that?"

Jiung shrugged, his smirk never fading. "Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?"

Keeho exhaled dramatically, shaking his head. "Man… this is either going to be the best idea ever or the dumbest thing you’ve ever done."

Jiung laughed, stretching his arms behind his head. "Guess we’ll find out."

But as much as he acted like this was all just fun and games, a small part of him lingered on your expression from this morning. The way you hesitated. The way your voice was just a little softer when you agreed to keep it casual. But Jiung shoved the thought away just as quickly as it came. This was simple, he reminded himself.

And besides - what’s the worst that could happen?

You were lounging on your bed, scrolling aimlessly through your phone, when it buzzed with a new message.

Jiung: Hope you’re not too sore from last night ;)

Your face burned instantly. You sat up, your heart racing as you stared at the message, already hearing his smug voice in your head. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips.

You: Whatever happened to 'hi, hello, how are you'?

Almost immediately, your phone buzzed again.

Jiung: Hi, hello, how are you?

You groaned, biting back a laugh, but before you could reply, another text popped up.

Jiung: Keeho and Intak were really curious when I got home, by the way.

Your stomach dropped.

You: Oh god… what did you say to them?

Jiung: Relax, baby.

Jiung: Didn’t mention any details.

Jiung: Just told them we’re both cool with keeping it casual.

You stared at the screen, feeling a small pang in your chest. There it was. The proof. Jiung had no hesitation in telling them that this was just something simple. No strings attached. You shouldn’t be surprised - after all, that’s exactly what you had agreed on. Still, the words sat a little heavier than you expected.

You took a deep breath, shaking your head and pushing the feeling away. This is what you wanted, you reminded yourself. Before you could dwell on it any longer, your phone buzzed again.

Jiung: Actually…

You frowned, staring at the message.

You: Actually…?

Jiung: I gotta be honest with you about something.

Your heart skipped a beat.

You: Okay… what is it?

There was a short pause, and then-

Jiung: No girl has ever driven me as crazy as you did.

Your breath caught, your lips parting slightly as you reread his words. A slow smile formed on your lips, your earlier worries fading for a moment.

You: Oh? Is that so?

Jiung’s reply came almost immediately.

Jiung: Absolutely.

Jiung: I love how open you are… letting me do all these things with you. It’s rare to find.

Your face burned, a small giggle slipping past your lips as you kicked your feet against the mattress. Was he always this smooth?

You: Careful, Jiung. I might start thinking you actually like me.

Jiung: Oh, I do. I just like you in all the best ways.

Your stomach flipped, warmth pooling in your chest as your fingers hovered over the keyboard.

You: Oh really?

You stared at Jiung’s last text, heart pounding, a teasing smile creeping onto your lips . You should’ve been worried about how easily he got under your skin. But instead, you found yourself smiling at your screen, already waiting for his next message. And Jiung’s response came almost immediately.

Jiung: Mhm.

Jiung: Especially the way you completely lose yourself when I touch you.

Your breath hitched. Your fingers tensed around your phone as you reread his words, your entire body heating up.

You: Jiung…

Jiung: What? Getting shy again?

Your face burned, but you refused to let him win this time.

You: Not at all.

Jiung: Oh?

Jiung: So if I were there right now, you wouldn’t be all flustered under me?

Your stomach flipped violently. You hesitated for half a second, then decided to push back.

You: Why don’t you come over and find out?

Jiung’s reply came almost instantly.

Jiung: Don’t tempt me, baby.

Your breath caught.

You: Who said I was tempting you?

Jiung’s typing bubble appeared - then disappeared - then appeared again. And then-

Jiung: You have no idea what you do to me.

You swallowed hard, gripping your phone tighter, your mind racing at his words. Before you could respond, another message popped up.

Jiung: You’re lucky I’m not there right now.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat.

You: Oh? And why’s that?

Jiung: Because if I was… you wouldn’t be texting me right now.

Your breath hitched. You stared at his words, your fingers hovering over your keyboard, your pulse quickening. You had definitely let things get a little too heated. But the real question was - Did you actually want to stop? A slow smirk tugged at your lips. Jiung had spent all night, all morning, teasing you, making you flustered, pushing you to your limits. Maybe it was finally time to turn the tables.

You: What would I be doing instead?

Jiung’s typing bubble appeared instantly.

Jiung: Don’t start something you can’t handle, baby.

Your stomach flipped, but you refused to back down.

You: Oh? So you think I can’t handle you?

Jiung took longer to reply this time, and you could almost imagine him sitting there, running his tongue over his teeth, trying to decide how to respond. Then-

Jiung: I know you can.

Your breath hitched.

Jiung: The real question is… can I handle you?

Your face burned, but your confidence didn’t waver.

You: I don’t know, Jiung… you seemed pretty weak under me last night.

Jiung’s response was instant.

Jiung: Oh, you’re really playing dangerous now.

You giggled, kicking your feet against the bed.

You: What’s wrong? Can’t take what you dish out?

Jiung’s typing bubble popped up. Then disappeared. Then popped up again.

Jiung: Keep talking like that and I’ll show you exactly what I can take.

Your stomach flipped violently. But you weren’t done yet.

You: I’m just saying… I liked seeing you like that.

Jiung: Like what?

You: Breathless. Needy. Completely at my mercy.

There was a short pause.

Jiung: Baby, you have exactly five seconds to stop before I drive back over there.

Your breath caught. Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your heartbeat pounding in your ears. You had him. Jiung, the king of teasing, the one who always had control, was now the one struggling to keep it together. A victorious smirk played on your lips.

You: What happened to me not starting something I can’t handle?

Jiung’s response came so fast it made you jump.

Jiung: That’s it. I’m coming over.

Your eyes widened.

You: Wait, WHAT-

Jiung: Too late, baby. You started this.

Your eyes widened in pure panic, heart racing, as realization sank in. You had won. But at what cost? Because now Jiung was on his way to make you pay for it. You had been so confident, so sure you had won this round - until now. Until he actually called your bluff. Your fingers flew over your keyboard.

You: WAIT!!

You: I was just messing with you!

Jiung’s typing bubble appeared immediately.

Jiung: Oh, NOW you’re nervous?

Your face burned.

You: I’m not nervous!!

Jiung: Then why are you trying to stop me?

You groaned, gripping your phone like it might somehow save you.

You: Because I wasn’t serious!

Jiung: Mm. Too bad.

Your stomach dropped.

You: Jiung.

Jiung: That’s my name, baby. What else do you wanna moan- I mean, say?

Your entire body heated up.

You: OH MY GOD STOP.

Jiung was relentless.

Jiung: I bet you’re all flustered right now, aren’t you?

Jiung: Sitting there, probably kicking your feet like a shy little thing.

Your face was on fire because - damn it, he was right.

You: I HATE YOU.

Jiung: No, you don’t.

You bit your lip, screaming internally, before aggressively typing back.

You: Okay, FINE. If you’re so confident, come over. I dare you.

Jiung’s response came immediately.

Jiung: Damn. You really want me that bad?

Your soul left your body. This was a battle you were never going to win. And Jiung knew it. Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, your mind racing for an escape plan. Jiung was winning, and you couldn’t let that happen.

You: ANYWAY. What are you up to today?

There. A safe, casual topic. Something to completely derail the conversation. For a moment, Jiung’s typing bubble didn’t appear. You exhaled in relief, thinking - just maybe - you had managed to escape his teasing. But then…

Jiung: Oh, so now you’re changing the subject?

Damn it.

You: I’m just asking a normal question!!

Jiung: Mhm. Sure. Not avoiding me at all.

You groaned, rolling onto your stomach, gripping your phone like it might somehow save you from this humiliation.

You: I’m not avoiding you!!

Jiung: Oh, baby… you can run, but you can’t hide.

Your entire body heated up at that.

You: STOP SAYING THINGS LIKE THAT.

Jiung: Why? Because it makes you think about last night?

Your breath caught.

You: I swear to god.

Jiung’s typing bubble appeared immediately.

Jiung: Swearing already? You must be really flustered.

You: I AM NOT FLUSTERED.

Jiung: You know, for someone who claims not to be flustered, you sure are typing fast.

You let out a silent scream into your pillow. There was no winning against him. Jiung was having way too much fun with this, and you were never going to hear the end of it. But before you could reply, your phone suddenly buzzed with a new notification.

It wasn’t Jiung this time. It was… Keeho. Your stomach dropped.

Keeho: Sooo… how was your night with Jiung? ;)

Your eyes widened in horror. Your fingers nearly dropped your phone. Oh. My. God. Before you could even react, another text came through.

Keeho: You seemed pretty eager to go home last night… and Jiung never came back… sooo…

Keeho: Should we start calling you Mrs. Choi now, or…?

Your soul left your body. This was a nightmare. And the worst part? Jiung was still waiting for your reply. Your heart pounded in pure panic as you stared at Keeho’s texts. There was no way Keeho didn’t already suspect the truth. But still, you had to try.

You: What?? Nothing happened!

Keeho: Oh really?

Keeho: Then why did Jiung never come back?

Damn it.

You: I don’t know?? Maybe he just needed some alone time??

Keeho: Mmm. Alone time.

Keeho: With you.

You groaned, gripping your phone so hard you thought it might crack.

You: YES. I mean NO. I mean- SHUT UP.

Keeho: You’re such a bad liar.

You whimpered in defeat, dropping your phone onto your bed and screaming into your pillow. There was no escaping this. Taking a deep breath, you finally gave in.

You: FINE. You win. Jiung spent the night. Are you happy now???

Keeho’s response came instantly.

Keeho: LMAOOOOOO I KNEW IT

Keeho: I CAN’T WAIT TO TEASE JIUNG

Your eyes widened in horror.

You: KEEHO DON’T YOU DARE

But before you could even panic further-

Keeho: Relax, Jiung already told us everything.

Your breath caught.

You: WAIT. WHAT???

Keeho: Yeah, he told us the second he got home. Said you two agreed to keep it casual. Blah blah blah.

Keeho: But I KNEW you were secretly losing your mind over him, so I had to hear it from YOU.

Your jaw dropped.

You: YOU WERE JUST MESSING WITH ME THIS WHOLE TIME???

Keeho: Absolutely.

Keeho: And it was SO worth it.

You screamed into your pillow again, absolutely mortified. And just when you thought this couldn’t get any worse - your phone buzzed. A new message. From Jiung. Your stomach dropped.

Jiung: Are you thinking about a good comeback for my text or why are you so silent all of a sudden?

Your entire body burned. Because now, Jiung knew you had been sitting here, blushing, flustered, and getting completely wrecked by Keeho. This was a nightmare. But after recovering from Keeho’s relentless teasing, you finally picked up your phone again. A smirk tugged at your lips. Two could play this game.

You: Oh, sorry. I got distracted thinking about something.

Jiung’s typing bubble popped up instantly.

Jiung: Yeah? Thinking about me, maybe?

Your stomach flipped, but you didn’t let yourself get flustered this time.

You: Maybe. Thinking about how weak you looked under me last night.

There was a pause.

Jiung: …You just don’t know when to quit, do you?

You giggled, rolling onto your stomach, fully enjoying yourself now.

You: Not when I’m winning.

Jiung’s reply came almost immediately.

Jiung: Oh, baby. You think you’ve won?

Your fingers hesitated over the keyboard, your pulse quickening.

Jiung: I’ll let you enjoy your little victory for now.

Jiung: But remember this - whenever you need me, I’m only one call or text away.

Your heart skipped a beat. For once, there was no teasing in his words. Just pure confidence. A promise. And as you stared at your screen, feeling the weight of his message settle over you, you realized - maybe this thing between you and Jiung wasn’t as simple as you thought.

The past few days had been a whirlwind of teasing texts between you and Jiung. It was all fun, playful, effortless. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. But his last message still lingered in your mind, no matter how much you tried to brush it off.

Jiung: Whenever you need me, I’m only one call or text away.

It was so confident, so assured, like he already knew you’d come back to him. And maybe the worst part? He wasn’t wrong. But today was different. Tonight would be the first time you’d see Jiung again in person. Keeho had invited you to a party at his friend’s place, and you had agreed without hesitation - even though you knew that seeing Jiung again, with Keeho and Intak watching your every reaction, was going to be super awkward. Still, you played it cool.

You got dressed in a tight black dress, something that hugged you in all the right places. Not for Jiung. Of course not. (At least, that’s what you told yourself.)

The moment you stepped into the house, the party already in full swing, Keeho found you immediately. He gave you a once-over before grinning like he knew something you didn’t.

"Damn," he said, tilting his head. "You look amazing."

You smiled. "Thanks, Keeho."

Then, his grin widened. "Did you wear that for Jiung?"

Your face burned instantly.

"Oh my god, shut up," you muttered, smacking his arm, making him laugh hysterically.

"Alright, alright," he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. "Come on, let’s go play beer pong. We’re destroying Intak’s team."

You nodded, following him deeper into the house. But your mind was somewhere else. Your eyes scanned the room, searching for one person. Jiung. But for now, he was nowhere to be found. Still, you had a feeling it wouldn’t be long before he made his presence very, very known.

The party was loud, the energy high, and for a while, you let yourself get lost in the game.

You and Keeho were unstoppable at beer pong, winning round after round, the drinks only making you feel lighter, more carefree. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

"I’m gonna grab a drink," you told Keeho, brushing your hair back. "You want anything?"

Keeho grinned, tossing a ping pong ball in the air. "Yeah, get me whatever. I trust your taste."

You nodded, weaving through the crowd toward the kitchen, scanning the counter until you found exactly what you were looking for. But the moment you turned around - you froze. You finally spotted Jiung. But… he wasn’t alone. He was sitting on the sofa in the living room, his arm draped casually over another girl’s shoulder. Your heart stopped.

She was laughing at something he said, her body leaning into him slightly, and he was close enough to whisper in her ear - probably because of the loud music. The girl responded by tucking her hair behind her ear, her gaze soft, her movements flirtatious. And Jiung? He didn’t move away. Your chest tightened, a dull ache settling somewhere deep inside you. But then, you remembered, this is what you agreed on. Something casual. No strings attached. He was free to do anything he wanted - with anyone he wanted. Just like you were.

You forced yourself to breathe, gripping the bottles in your hands a little too tightly before quickly turning away. You didn’t wait for him to see you. You didn’t give yourself a chance to overthink it. You just made your way back to Keeho, pushing down the feeling in your chest as best as you could. Because it didn’t matter. It wasn’t supposed to matter. So why did it feel like it did?

You faked a bright smile as you returned to Keeho, handing him his drink like nothing was wrong. Like you hadn’t just seen Jiung with another girl. Like your stomach wasn’t still twisting uncomfortably. Keeho, however, saw right through you.

He blinked at you, tilting his head. “You okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

You laughed immediately, waving him off. “What? No, I’m fine!”

Keeho didn’t look convinced. And then, he leaned slightly over your shoulder, his gaze flickering toward the living room. The moment he spotted Jiung with the girl, his lips curled into a knowing smirk. “Ahhh,” he hummed, leaning back and looking straight at you. "Now I understand."

You blinked, playing dumb. “Understand what?”

Keeho gave you a look. “You saw Jiung flirting with another girl, right?”

Your heart jumped into your throat.

“What?!” you burst out, laughing a little too loudly. “What are you even talking about?”

Keeho shrugged dramatically, taking a sip of his drink. “I get it. I’d be jealous too.”

You hissed, smacking his arm. “I’m not jealous!”

Keeho grinned knowingly.

“Uh-huh,” he mused. “I mean, he was all buddy-buddy with you last time, and now he’s already onto another girl? Ouch.”

You smacked him again, huffing. “Keeho!”

But then, something shifted in Keeho’s eyes. The teasing faded slightly, replaced by something softer. Something worried. “Hey,” he said, his voice quieter now, more serious. “I was just messing with you.”

You looked away, not wanting to meet his gaze.

Keeho’s brows furrowed. “Look, Jiung is a good guy. He wouldn’t just sleep around with random girls.”

You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. But before you could even think of a response, Keeho placed his hands on your shoulders, demanding your attention.

“Still,” he continued, his voice gentler now, “be careful, okay? If anything ever makes you uncomfortable, you can stop it anytime.”

Your chest tightened. Something about the way he said it - so sincerely, so genuinely concerned for you - made you feel like you couldn’t breathe properly. Like maybe… maybe this thing with Jiung wasn’t as casual as you wanted it to be. You bit your lip, searching for something to say. But instead, you laughed, pushing Keeho’s hands away playfully.

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, forcing a grin. “I can handle myself.”

Keeho didn’t look fully convinced. But he didn’t push it. He just sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. But if you need me, I’m here.”

You smiled, trying not to let your thoughts spiral. Because tonight was just a party. Jiung was just a casual thing. And your feelings? You could handle them. Right?

After another victorious round of beer pong, you set your cup down, brushing your hands together. “I need to use the bathroom,” you told Keeho, stepping away from the table.

Keeho, still gloating over your win, barely looked up. “Don’t get lost!”

Rolling your eyes, you weaved through the crowded house, heading toward the stairs in search of a bathroom. The noise from the party faded slightly as you reached the hallway upstairs, scanning the doors. But just as you were about to open one - a hand wrapped around your wrist. Your breath hitched. You turned quickly, only to come face to face with Jiung. His eyes gleamed with something dangerous, playful, his grip firm but not forceful.

“Weren’t you gonna say hello to me tonight?” he teased, tilting his head.

You laughed nervously, trying to play it cool. “I figured you were busy, so I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Jiung hummed. "Mhm."

The way he was looking at you - sharp, knowing, unreadable - made your stomach twist. You started to step away, but before you could Jiung’s grip tightened. And in one swift motion, he pulled you toward a nearby door, opening it and slipping inside, dragging you along with him. The door clicked shut, and before you could even catch your breath - he locked it.

Your heart pounded.

"Jiung," you hissed. "What are you doing?"

He turned slowly, his back against the door, that infuriating smirk still playing on his lips.

"I wanted some time alone with you."

Your stomach flipped, but you crossed your arms, forcing yourself to stay composed.

"Why didn’t you bring that girl with you?" you quipped, raising an eyebrow.

Jiung took a slow, deliberate step closer - and then another - until he was standing just inches away. His fingers reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Your breath hitched. He smirked. "Jealous?"

You chuckled, trying to keep control. "Is there a reason to be jealous?"

Jiung shrugged. "I don’t know. Do you think there is?"

You held his gaze, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to you.

"Absolutely not," you said smoothly. "You’re a free man."

Jiung chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You’re impossible, you know that?"

He leaned in closer, the space between you disappearing.

"The girl wouldn’t stop talking to me," he murmured. "I was just being nice." His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up. "But honestly?" His hand pressed against the wall beside you, caging you in, as his lips brushed dangerously close to your ear. "I don’t think she could ever make me feel the way you do."

Your heart stopped. The air in the room shifted completely - from playful to something else entirely. Something heavy. Charged. Dangerous. Jiung was back to teasing you. And yet again you were falling for it.

You exhaled shakily, trying to ignore the way Jiung’s breath fanned against your skin, the way his voice had dropped just enough to make your stomach twist. But you refused to give in so easily.

"That almost sounded sincere," you mused, tilting your head slightly, trying to maintain some sense of control over the moment.

Jiung’s lips curled into a smirk, his dark eyes glinting with amusement.

"Almost?" he echoed, his voice smooth, calculated - like he was enjoying this a little too much. "So you still don’t believe me?"

You crossed your arms, raising an eyebrow. "You do have a habit of saying things just to fluster me."

Jiung let out a soft chuckle, stepping closer - slow, deliberate, like he had all the time in the world. "That’s true," he admitted. "But I don’t say things I don’t mean."

Your stomach flipped. Something about the way he said it - so casually, so confident - made your pulse quicken. You swallowed, holding his gaze, and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped out.

"Then prove it."

Jiung raised an eyebrow, intrigued.

"Prove it?" he repeated, stepping closer, so close that your back pressed fully against the wall now.

You refused to let yourself look away. You refused to let him win. Jiung studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he lifted his hand, his fingers grazing over your jaw, down your neck, as he leaned in even closer. His lips were just barely hovering above yours when he whispered-

"Are you sure you’re ready for that?"

Your breath caught. Because suddenly, you weren’t so sure of anything anymore. His lips pressed against your neck, slow, deliberate, teasing, making your breath hitch involuntarily. You hated how effortlessly he could make you react. You hated how your body betrayed you the moment he got this close. But more than anything , you hated that you weren’t sure you wanted him to stop. So instead of pulling away, you tilted your head slightly, giving him more access, feeling the way his breath hitched ever so slightly at your reaction.

You smiled.

"You talk a lot, Jiung," you murmured, your voice steady despite the fire burning in your chest.

Jiung froze for half a second. Then, he let out a low chuckle, his lips barely ghosting over your skin. "Oh?" he mused, amusement dripping from his voice. "And what exactly do you want me to do instead?" His hands gripped your hips a little tighter, his body pressing closer, the warmth of him seeping through the thin fabric of your dress.

You swallowed, your own heartbeat betraying you.

"I don’t know," you whispered, letting your fingers skim up his chest, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your touch. "Prove something to me."

Jiung let out a low hum, like he was considering it. "You’re such a tease," he murmured, his hand slowly trailing down your waist, sliding dangerously close to your thigh.

Jiung’s hand slid under your dress and you shivered as his fingers brushed over your exposed skin, slow, lazy, completely intentional. Jiung felt it. And that only encouraged him further. He leaned in, his lips grazing your ear, his voice dropping into something even lower, even more dangerous.

"You really wore this short little dress tonight and expected me to behave?" His fingers inched higher, his grip firm but teasing. "That doesn’t seem fair, baby."

Your stomach flipped violently. Damn it. For someone you had been trying to fluster, Jiung had somehow turned the tables entirely. And now? Now you were the one struggling to keep control.

His lips trailed slow, deliberate kisses along your neck, taking his time - too much time - until he was sure you felt every second of it. Then, his voice, smooth and taunting against your skin. "I know you’ve been waiting for this."

Your stomach flipped, and you hated how effortlessly he could undo you.

"I hate you," you whispered, breathless, trying to fight back.

Jiung chuckled, his grip tightening just enough to remind you who had the upper hand now.

"No, you don’t," he murmured. "You love when I do this."

You should’ve pushed back, should’ve tried to regain control. But instead, your body moved on instinct. You wrapped your leg around him, pulling him closer, your hands fisting his shirt. Jiung let out a low hum of approval, his smirk pressing against your skin.

"Look who’s all needy," he whispered, amused but clearly enjoying himself.

You groaned, but before you could snap back Jiung pushed you further against the wall, his body pressing fully against yours now. A small sound escaped your lips before you could stop it, and Jiung’s grin deepened.

"Damn," he murmured. "Didn’t know you could sound so pretty."

Your face burned, your pulse racing as he trailed his fingers lazily along your thigh again.

"Jiung-" you breathed out. "What if someone catches us?"

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping into something even lower, even more dangerous.

"That’s the fun part."

Your stomach twisted, heat rising to your cheeks as you realized Jiung wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. And worse? You weren’t sure you wanted him to.

Jiung’s fingers slid along your back, his touch slow and deliberate, tracing the zipper of your dress. He held it there for a moment, as if waiting for you to stop him. You didn’t. With one smooth motion, he pulled it down. The fabric slipped from your shoulders, pooling at your feet, leaving you standing there - vulnerable, exposed, completely at his mercy. Jiung took a slow step back, his dark eyes scanning you from head to toe, his tongue running briefly over his lower lip.

"Damn," he murmured, shaking his head slightly. He let out a low chuckle, tilting his head as he took his time admiring you. "I loved that dress on you," he continued, voice low and teasing. Then, his gaze flickered back to yours, his smirk deepening. "But I think I like you looking this way even better."

Your cheeks burned, heat rushing through you at his words, at the way his eyes lingered like he was memorizing every detail. Before you could react, Jiung moved. In one fluid motion, he turned you around, his hands firm yet careful, guiding you until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed. And then he pushed you down.

You barely had time to gasp before you were flat against the mattress, Jiung hovering over you, hands braced on either side of your body. His gaze was intense, filled with something unreadable, something dangerous, something consuming.

He leaned down, lips brushing against your ear as he murmured. "You really don’t care if someone catches us, do you?"

His tone was taunting, yet filled with something deeper. Something that told you Jiung knew exactly what he was doing to you. And worse? He was going to keep pushing you further. Your stomach flipped, your breath uneven as his hands traveled down your sides, slow, deliberate, like he was taking his time to memorize you. You couldn’t fight it anymore. Didn’t want to fight it anymore. You gave in. Completely. Jiung felt it immediately.

His smirk deepened, amusement flickering in his dark eyes as he whispered, "That’s what I thought." He pushed himself up, standing at the edge of the bed, his gaze locked on yours the entire time.

His fingers hooked into the waistband of his pants, pushing them down, leaving him standing there in nothing but his shirt - messy, slightly unbuttoned from the party, making him look infuriatingly good. Your breath caught, but before you could process it, Jiung was back over you, pressing you firmly into the mattress, his weight sending shivers down your spine. His fingers traced along your jaw, down your neck, over your collarbone, his touch featherlight - teasing, testing, in complete control.

"You’re so easy to read," he murmured, his voice thick with amusement as his lips hovered just above yours. Your body reacted to him before your mind could catch up. Jiung noticed. And he loved it. "You always act so shy," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "But look at you now." His fingers trailed lower, his lips grazing your jaw. "So eager."

Your face burned, your entire body betraying you. Jiung’s smirk never faded, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your skin, his touch light enough to drive you insane.

"You like this, don’t you?" he murmured, his voice low and taunting, his lips hovering just above your jaw.

Your stomach flipped, your breath catching, but you refused to answer.

"Still pretending you can fight me?" he mused, tilting his head as his fingers trailed even lower, his touch still agonizingly slow.

Your body tensed, resisting the way he was completely unraveling you.

Jiung chuckled, shaking his head. "You’re so stubborn." He pinned your wrists above your head, pressing his weight against you, his breath brushing against your ear.

Your breath hitched, your resolve cracking just slightly. Jiung smirked.

"See?" he murmured, his lips barely grazing your skin. "You don’t actually want to fight me on this."

Your body betrayed you in every way possible. Jiung felt it. And that was all the confirmation he needed.

"You’re already mine," he murmured, his voice dropping even lower, filled with something dangerous, possessive, intoxicating.

The bed dipped as Jiung shifted closer, and the familiar warmth of his body stirred something deep in you - the ache of missing this, missing him. Your chest tightened. His touch wasn’t demanding, just steady and grounding, and the simple slide of his thumb over your thigh made you shiver. Jiung shifted above you, his hips pressing yours deeper into the mattress. The scent of his skin - clean sweat and faded cologne - filled the space between the both of you. Your hands slid up his back, feeling his muscle slightly tense beneath the fabric of his shirt.

A low groan escaped him when you arched against him as he slowly pushed his length inside of you. The weight of him shifted, knees nudging yours wider, and his mouth found that spot beneath your ear that made your thoughts scatter. "Still worried someone‘s gonna catch us?" he breathed teasingly. You shook your head, fingers twisting in his hair as he kissed down your throat. Every drag of his lips felt deliberate, like he was mapping territory.

The first thrusts stole your breath - slow, deep, relentless. His lips met yours and the world seemed to hush, leaving only the rhythm of your breaths blending together. Your hands moved almost on their own, sliding up into his hair, the strands warm and silk-like between your fingers. When you gripped gently, he let out the faintest sound against your mouth, and the closeness between you deepened. The kiss grew hungrier, not rushed but heavy with everything you’d both been holding back.

Every tug of his hair pulled him nearer, until there was no space left between you, his heartbeat pressing into yours. Your chest tightened with the realization of how much you had missed this - not just the kiss, but the way Jiung seemed to unravel in your hands, and how you did too in his.

His pace quickened, slowly losing its control. Every thrust pushed you higher, friction sparking heat in your belly. "Look at me," Jiung demanded, his voice raw. You obeyed, forcing your eyes open, watching his composure fracture - jaw tight, breath catching. Your hips snapped up, meeting each of his thrusts.

Jiung’s breathing had grown uneven, every exhale hot against your skin as the tension between you both built higher. You felt your body tightening, every nerve drawn tight, your grip on him desperate for more. His hands held you firmly, grounding you even as the rush inside you became almost unbearable.

"Let go, baby." Jiung's voice was smooth, confident, filled with something that made your entire body burn.

And just like that - you did. A soft sound escaped your lips, a wave of warmth washing over you, leaving you feeling weightless, breathless, completely undone. Jiung smirked, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his dark eyes scanning you like he was trying to memorize every expression you made.

At the same time, you felt him give in too. His body tensed against yours, a low sound leaving his throat as he buried himself in the moment. The weight of his climax rippled through him, every movement pressed against you, every shiver shared.

When it finally ebbed, the two of you stayed locked together, chests heaving, skin damp, hearts still racing from the force of it. Jiung rested his forehead against yours, his breath shaky, and all you could do was hold on - feeling the aftershocks still humming quietly through you both. Then, softly - almost too softly - "Was that good?"

Your cheeks burned, your breath still uneven as you bit your lip and gave a shy nod. Jiung chuckled, clearly pleased with himself, his fingers trailing lazily down your arm before he suddenly pulled back.

"Great," he murmured, still grinning.

Then, just as effortlessly as he had unraveled you, he grabbed your hand and pulled you up from the bed. Your stomach dropped. Wait-

The party.

You had been so lost in Jiung’s teasing, in the way he made you feel, that you completely forgot where you were. Your heartbeat picked up again, but this time, for a completely different reason. Jiung noticed the way you suddenly tensed, the way your eyes flickered toward the door like you had just been thrown back into reality. His smirk deepened.

"Nervous?" he teased.

You swallowed, smoothing your dress as best as you could, trying not to look as wrecked as you felt. "What if Keeho notices?" you muttered, glancing toward the door like it was your only escape.

Jiung chuckled, shoving his hands into his pockets.

"Oh, he’ll definitely notice," he mused, way too entertained by your panic.

You glared at him. "Not helping."

Jiung leaned in just slightly, his voice dropping into something tauntingly low. "Relax," he murmured, smirking. "Just act normal."

You let out a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. But as Jiung reached for the door, a single thought kept racing through your mind. Could you really walk back into that party like nothing happened? And more importantly - would Keeho even let you?

As soon as you approached Keeho, his eyes widened, and he immediately blurted out - "Are you okay?! You’ve been gone for almost an hour."

Your stomach dropped. An hour? You hadn’t even realized how much time had passed.

You quickly nodded, trying to play it cool. "Yeah, I was just feeling a bit dizzy. Needed to sit down for a bit."

Keeho’s expression softened slightly, his brows furrowing in concern. "Okay, let me know if-" But then he stopped mid-sentence. His eyes flickered over your shoulder, his face twisting into something between realization and pure annoyance. And then, in a low whisper, "Uh-huh… now I know why you felt ‘dizzy.’"

You frowned, confused, before instinctively turning around. And that’s when you saw him. Jiung. Casually walking down the stairs, hands in his pockets, looking completely unbothered. Your heart skipped a beat. Jiung strolled right up to you and Keeho, his usual teasing smirk in place, his posture too relaxed for someone who had just spent the last hour ruining your ability to think straight.

Keeho’s judgmental gaze snapped back to you. "What did you guys do up there?"

Your mouth opened to protest, but Keeho cut you off immediately.

"Don’t! I don’t wanna know." He made a dramatic gagging noise, his face twisting in exaggerated disgust. "Disgusting."

Your face burned. "Keeho-"

But before you could even attempt to defend yourself, he had already moved on, flashing an easy grin as Jiung finally reached you both.

Jiung stretched lazily, completely ignoring Keeho’s pointed stares as he said, "So who’s ready to get destroyed in beer pong?"

Before you could respond, Jiung’s hand casually ran across your waist.

It was a light touch, nothing overtly suggestive, but the moment his fingers brushed against your skin, your entire body shivered involuntarily. And of course Jiung noticed. You swallowed hard, trying to tell yourself that it was just a friendly gesture. But after everything that had just happened upstairs, the simple touch felt way too intimate.

Your heart pounded as Keeho rolled his eyes, muttering, "You two are so obvious, it’s embarrassing."

Jiung only chuckled, leaning down slightly and whispering in your ear, "You okay there, baby? You look a little flustered."

Keeho groaned dramatically, rubbing his temples.

"Can you two not?" he muttered. "Some of us are trying to drink in peace without wanting to die from secondhand embarrassment."

Jiung ignored him completely. His eyes stayed locked on you, waiting. And damn it - you couldn’t think straight. The moment was too overwhelming - Jiung’s teasing, Keeho’s side-eyeing, the way your body was still on high alert after what had happened upstairs. So you did the only thing you could think of. You grabbed the nearest bottle and downed it.

Jiung laughed, amused. "Whoa, slow down, baby. Can’t have you passing out on me."

You pulled back, wiping your lips, already feeling the alcohol kick in.

"Shut up," you muttered, chugging another drink.

Big mistake. Because the next thing you knew, you were sitting in the back of a taxi, half-asleep, your body swaying as someone sat beside you. Your vision blurred. Your head felt heavy. Then - black.

The next morning, you woke up to pure hell. Your head was pounding, your mouth dry, your entire body refusing to move.

"What the hell happened last night?"

You tried to remember.

Beer pong.

Jiung.

The intimate moment upstairs.

Then more beer pong.

Then… nothing.

Your stomach sank. You groaned, reaching for your phone, your eyes barely able to focus as you checked the time. And there - a new message from Jiung.

Jiung: Hey drunkhead. I bet you’re punching yourself right now for missing out on a steamy night with me ;)

Your breath caught. Your face burned. Oh god. What did you do? And more importantly-

What the hell did you miss?

Later that afternoon, you found yourself curled up on the couch with a plate of spaghetti, enjoying the quietness of the apartment. The soft fabric of Intak’s hoodie enveloped you in warmth as you twirled the noodles around your fork, eyes glued to the TV screen.

And then, it happened.

A slight miscalculation. A slip of your hand. A sickening plop.

Your stomach dropped as you looked down. A splotch of red sauce had landed directly on the front of Intak’s hoodie. Your mind immediately replayed his words from earlier: this one’s my favorite… expensive… be careful with it…

Panic surged through you. Without thinking, you bolted to the bathroom, yanking the hoodie over your head as fast as possible. You scrubbed at the stain frantically, then threw it into the washing machine, hoping for a miracle.

But when you pulled it out later, your heart sank. The stain was still there - faint, but unmistakable. No matter how much you rubbed at it, it wouldn’t come out.

You spent the next hour sitting stiffly on the couch, the hoodie balled up beside you, heart pounding every time you heard a noise outside. When the front door finally opened that evening, you swallowed hard, gripping the fabric in your hands.

“I’m home!” Intak’s voice rang out warmly. You heard the rustling of his jacket as he kicked off his shoes. A moment later, he was in front of you, grinning like he always did. “I missed you,” he murmured, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your lips before plopping onto the couch beside you.

You hesitated, fingers tightening around the hoodie. “So… funny story,” you started, forcing out a small laugh.

Intak turned to you, brow raised in curiosity. “Yeah?”

Slowly, you lifted the hoodie from behind you and held it out to him. His gaze dropped to the fabric, his smile fading the moment he spotted the faint red marks.

His expression darkened. “Are you serious?!”

The sudden sharpness in his voice made you flinch. You had expected him to be annoyed, maybe let out a frustrated sigh or tease you about being clumsy, but not this. Never this.

A tense silence stretched between you as he stared at the ruined hoodie, his jaw clenched tight. You had never seen him this angry before.

The room was filled with tension so thick it was suffocating. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to speak, voice shaky but earnest.

“I’m sorry, Intak, I-”

“I can’t believe it!” he cut you off, voice sharp with frustration. “I specifically told you to take care of it!”

You flinched at his words, your fingers tightening around the ruined hoodie in your lap. You weren’t trying to make excuses, you knew you messed up, but the way he was reacting caught you completely off guard.

“I-It was an accident,” you stammered, trying to explain. “I can take it to the laundry shop, they’ll-”

“That’s not the point!” Intak snapped, his voice rising. “It’s about you not respecting my stuff!”

Your chest tightened. “That’s not true…” you murmured, barely above a whisper.

Intak let out a harsh, sarcastic laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, really? Then what about last time when you broke my favorite mug?!”

Your breath hitched. He was still mad about that? It had been weeks ago, and you had apologized over and over, even offering to replace it.

Anger started bubbling up inside you now, pushing past the initial guilt and hurt. “Why do you even care so much?” you snapped back. “It’s just material things!”

Intak’s eyes flashed with something almost like disbelief. “Because they are my things!” he shot back, his voice laced with frustration. “Things I paid for with my own money!”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “Fine,” you spat, folding your arms. “Then I’ll just buy you a new hoodie, problem solved.”

But that only seemed to push him further. His face twisted with something unreadable before he suddenly yelled-

“And maybe I should get a new girlfriend that’s not so irresponsible!”

Silence.

Your lips parted as if to argue back, but no words came out.

For a moment, it was like neither of you could move. Intak’s chest rose and fell sharply, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. His expression flickered - anger, regret, something else -but he didn’t take it back.

You felt your throat tighten, heat stinging at your eyes. Your fists clenched at your sides as you forced yourself to swallow the lump in your throat.

“Fine,” you finally said, voice barely above a whisper. Then, louder, “Good luck on that!”

Before he could say anything else, you turned on your heel and rushed to the bedroom, tears finally spilling over as you slammed the door behind you.

You sat curled up against the headboard, hugging your knees to your chest, your face still damp with dried tears. Your heart ached from the argument, from the words that had been thrown back and forth like weapons.

The door creaked open, and you stiffened.

Intak stepped inside, his expression softer now, his usual warmth creeping back into his eyes. You snapped your head up, voice laced with bitterness as you muttered, “What are you still doing here? Aren’t you busy finding a new girlfriend?”

He let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair before stepping closer. “Stop saying such silly things,” he murmured.

A bitter chuckle escaped your lips. “Silly? Those were your words, Intak.*”

He exhaled heavily before sitting down on the bed beside you. “I know… and it was so stupid.” His voice was quieter now, tinged with regret. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

You wanted to stay mad, you really did. But deep down, you knew he had a point. You had been a little careless with his things, and if the roles were reversed, you’d be upset too. You let out a shaky breath, looking down at your hands. “I’m sorry too,” you murmured. “I didn’t mean to ruin your hoodie… I’ll do anything to fix it.”

Intak reached for your hand, his thumb gently brushing over your knuckles. “You were right,” he admitted. “It’s just material things. I shouldn’t have gotten that worked up. The last thing I ever want is to make you feel this way.”

Your eyes met his, searching for any lingering frustration, but all you found was sincerity. You squeezed his hand lightly. “I get it though… I shouldn’t mess with your stuff, especially when you ask me to be careful.”

For a moment, the tension melted away, replaced by something softer.

Then, you pouted, tilting your head at him. “So… did you really want a new girlfriend?”

He let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head. “Are you crazy?” He gave your hand a playful squeeze. “I already have the most perfect girlfriend.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you looked at him.

He reached up, his fingers gently wiping away the traces of tears on your cheeks. “She’s just a bit clumsy,” he teased. “So I hope she’s more careful in the future.”

You giggled, nudging him lightly. “I’ll try… no promises, though.”

Intak hovered closer, his gaze locked onto yours as he tilted his head. “Are we good now?” he asked softly.

You nodded, your heart swelling as he leaned in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your lips.

SOUL

The living room was quiet except for the soft rustling of pages as you turned them. You were curled upon the couch, your book resting comfortably in your hands.

You had been waiting for Soul to come home, listening for the familiar sound of the front door unlocking. When it finally did, you glanced up, watching as he stepped inside. His blonde hair was slightly tousled, his jacket slung over one shoulder. He looked exhausted, but when his eyes met yours, they softened.

“Hey,” he murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss on the top of your head. The scent of his cologne mixed with the crisp chill of the night air.

“Hey,” you replied, offering him a small smile before turning back to your book.

“I’ll be right back,” he murmured, his voice low and gentle. “Just gonna grab one of my mangas from the office. Then we can read together.”

You hummed in acknowledgment, already feeling the warmth of your quiet routine. This was your thing - spending nights together, side by side, lost in your stories.

Five minutes passed. Then more. You were reaching the end of your chapter when Soul finally came back, his brows furrowed.

“Hey,” he started, crossing his arms, “have you seen my manga?”

You lowered your book, blinking up at him. “No? You know I don’t go into your office.”

He let out a small sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I swear I left it right there. Are you sure you didn’t move it?”

There was an edge to his voice that immediately put you on guard. You straightened a little, closing your book but keeping a firm grip on it.

“Well, I don’t know what to tell you,” you replied, keeping your tone even. “I haven’t touched it.”

He exhaled sharply, frustration creeping into his voice. “It was right there. It didn’t just vanish.”

“Oh, like last time,” you said, tilting your head, “when you couldn’t find your headphones and blamed me? But then found them exactly where you left them?”

Soul’s jaw tightened. “Yeah? Well, last time I found my sunglasses in your purse.”

You let out a scoff, your grip on your book tightening. “Yeah, because you put them in there.”

“That’s not true.”

“Oh, come on, Soul! You always do this!” Frustration spilled over, heating your voice. “Whenever you lose something, you immediately assume I took it. Do you even hear yourself?”

His jaw tightened, his hands balling into fists at his sides. “Maybe if it didn’t keep happening, I wouldn’t think that!”

The tension between you thickened, the warmth of your home replaced by the chill of an argument neither of you had meant to start.

You sat stiffly on the couch, gripping your book, though you were no longer reading. Soul stood a few feet away, his arms crossed, his brows furrowed. The lost manga no longer felt like the real issue, it had become something bigger, something tangled in frustration and unresolved feelings.

“Maybe you should be more responsible with your stuff instead of always blaming me,” you snapped, your voice sharp with irritation.

Soul let out a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Oh, so now it’s my fault? Every single time I can’t find something, it’s automatically on me?”

“Yeah, because it is on you!” You gestured toward him, your frustration boiling over. “You lose things all the time, and instead of just looking for them like a normal person, you jump to blaming me. It’s exhausting, Soul!”

His expression darkened, and then, in a low but firm voice, he said something that made your blood run cold.

“Well, maybe we shouldn’t have moved in together. Because then my stuff wouldn’t strangely get lost.”

The words hit you like a knife, sharp and unforgiving. You felt your breath hitch, your heart pounding in your chest. For a moment, you just stared at him, trying to process what he had just said.

Your lips parted, your voice low and laced with disbelief. “Are you serious right now?!”

Soul didn’t hesitate. His expression remained firm as he shot back, “I’m just saying… when I was still living at the dorm, my stuff never got lost.”

A stunned silence settled between you. Your heart pounded, the weight of his words pressing heavily on your chest.

Then, a bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Well, maybe you should move back to your members then.”

Soul’s jaw tensed, his hands curling into fists at his sides. You pushed yourself up from the couch, your movements rigid with emotion.

“I can’t believe you said that, just because you’re too stupid to take care of your own stuff!” The words were out before you could stop them, but you didn’t regret them. You were furious.

Before he could respond, you turned on your heel and stormed toward the bedroom, your vision blurred with frustration. The moment you stepped inside, you grabbed the door and slammed it shut behind you, the sound echoing through the apartment like a final statement.

And just like that, silence followed.

Soul was alone in the living room. And you were alone in the bedroom, your heart still pounding.

You sat on the edge of the bed, your arms wrapped around your legs, your mind replaying every sharp word from the argument. The weight of Soul’s voice still echoed in your head.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have moved in together.”

Did he really mean that?

Your chest tightened as the thought sank deeper, twisting into something heavier, something painful. The anger you had felt before hadn’t faded, but now, it was tangled with something worse - hurt.

You sniffled, tilting your head back to stop the sting in your eyes, but it was useless. The tears came anyway, slipping down your cheeks before you could stop them. You hated that his words had this much power over you, but they did.

A few moments later, a soft knock broke through the silence.

You stiffened, your heart beating faster.

“Leave me alone!” you yelled, your voice coming out harsher than you intended.

For a second, there was silence. You thought he would listen and walk away. But then, the door creaked open.

You looked up sharply, ready to snap at him, but the moment your eyes landed on what he was holding, your blood boiled all over again.

There, in Soul’s hands, was the manga.

The exact one he had accused you of misplacing.

He smiled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck as he lifted the book slightly. “Hey… look what I found.”

Your jaw clenched. Heat flared up in your chest again.

“Well, congrats,” you hissed sarcastically.

Soul flinched slightly at your tone but still stepped inside, shutting the door behind him. His movements were careful, like he was approaching a wounded animal.

“I’m… really sorry,” he said, his voice softer now. “For what I said earlier.”

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head. “I can’t believe you said that. Over some stupid manga.”

Soul frowned and sat down next to you on the bed, keeping a bit of distance between you. “It’s not stupid… it’s Jujutsu Kaisen.”

For a second, the tension cracked.

A quiet giggle slipped from your lips before you could stop it. Soul was such a baby when it came to his manga, and even in the middle of a fight, he somehow managed to make you laugh.

His lips twitched slightly, like he wanted to smile too. But then, your expression shifted, and the anger returned.

“I’m still mad at you,” you muttered, your voice quieter now, but still firm.

Soul nodded immediately. “I know. You should be.” He looked down at his hands, exhaling. “What I said was so stupid. I didn’t mean it. Not even a little.” His voice was filled with regret as he glanced back at you. “I was just frustrated, but that’s no excuse.”

You didn’t respond right away, just staring at him. You could still feel the sting of his words from earlier, still feel the weight of them in your chest. But looking at him now, at the way his shoulders were slightly slumped, at the way his brows were furrowed like he hated himself for what he had said… it was hard to stay completely furious.

You sighed, wiping at your damp cheeks. “You really hurt my feelings, Soul.”

His gaze softened, and without hesitation, he reached out, taking your hand gently in his. His fingers were warm, his grip careful, like he was afraid you might pull away.

“I know,” he whispered. “And I hate that I did. I don’t want to hurt you. Ever.” He squeezed your hand. “I’m sorry.”

You swallowed, staring down at your joined hands.

After a long pause, you exhaled slowly and nodded. “I forgive you… but you really need to take better care of your stuff.”

Soul let out a breath, relief washing over his face. “I will. I promise.”

A small silence settled between you, this one no longer heavy with tension but something softer, something mending.

Then, Soul gave your hand another squeeze and tilted his head. “Wanna watch some anime instead of reading?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, but a small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah… okay.”

His eyes brightened at that, and without hesitation, he pulled you up from the bed, leading you back into the living room.

Just like that, the warmth returned.

JONGSEOB

You had only meant to tidy up a little. The apartment was already clean for the most part, but you knew how easily dust settled on Jongseob’s desk, and since he had left to pick up your food, you thought - why not? Just a quick wipe. Nothing more.

But then, somehow, in the process of brushing off his desk and running the cloth lightly over his still-running laptop, your finger must have grazed a key. A window popped up.

“File deleted.”

Your heart stopped.

You froze, staring at the screen, a silent horror creeping up your spine. You hadn’t meant to open anything, let alone delete something. What did you even erase? Was it important? A work assignment? A document? Something irreplaceable?

Panic tightened in your chest, but before you could think of a way to fix it, you heard the front door open. Jongseob was back.

You stepped away from his desk like it had burned you, hurrying to the living room, willing yourself to act normal. You didn’t do anything. Nothing happened. If you just stayed calm, maybe, just maybe, he wouldn’t even notice.

Jongseob walked in carrying the takeout bags, his face relaxed. “Hey,” he greeted, kicking off his shoes. “I just need to finish something real quick, then we can eat, okay?”

You nodded, your stomach twisting with nerves. “Okay.”

He smiled at you before disappearing into his workspace. The moment he left your sight, your heart pounded in your ears. You clutched your hands together, fingers trembling slightly. Maybe it wasn’t anything major. Maybe it was just a temporary file, something he wouldn’t even notice was gone-

“What the hell?!”

His voice rang out from the office, sharp, alarmed.

Your stomach dropped.

You stood frozen in the doorway of his office, your fingers gripping the hem of your shirt as you watched the frustration on Jongseob’s face deepen.

“It’s just… gone,” he muttered under his breath, his hands running through his hair. “I was almost done.”

Guilt gnawed at you. You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You could’ve kept pretending, could’ve just stood there in silence and let him believe it was some kind of system error. But as you looked at him, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning the screen as if hoping the file would somehow reappear, you couldn’t hold it in any longer.

“I… it was me,” you admitted, your voice small. “I was just cleaning your desk, and I think I accidentally-”

Jongseob’s head snapped toward you, his eyes narrowing. “You did what?!”

His voice was louder than you expected, sharp and filled with disbelief. You flinched.

“I-I didn’t mean to,” you stammered, stepping closer. “I was just wiping your desk, and I must have hit something on the laptop. I didn’t know-”

“How many times have I told you not to touch my work stuff?!” he snapped, cutting you off.

Your head dropped, shame washing over you like a wave.

“You don’t even know what you just did,” he went on, his voice tense. He let out a short, bitter laugh before turning back to the laptop, shaking his head. “I was supposed to present this song to my team tomorrow. And now? Now I have nothing. I have to start all over again!”

Tears burned at the corners of your eyes. You had never seen him like this before - frustrated, angry… disappointed. The weight of your mistake pressed down on you like a stone in your chest.

“I…” Your voice cracked as you forced out the words. “I’m so sorry…”

But he didn’t respond. He was staring at the screen, jaw tight, fingers clenched into fists.

The silence felt unbearable.

So you turned and walked away.

You made your way to the bedroom, the lump in your throat growing heavier with each step. The moment you closed the door behind you, the first tear slipped down your cheek.

The room was quiet except for your muffled sobs. You lay curled up on the bed, your face buried in the pillow, your heart heavy with guilt. You barely registered the soft creak of the door opening until you felt the mattress dip beside you.

Jongseob had come in.

You didn’t lift your head, but you could sense him there, sitting close. He didn’t say anything at first. The silence between you was thick, but it didn’t feel as tense as before.

Through shaky breaths, you whispered, “I’m so sorry, Jongseob… If you came to scream at me, just do it. I deserve it.”

But instead of yelling, his hand found yours, gripping it gently. His touch was warm, steady, different from the anger you’d seen earlier. You hesitated before finally looking up at him, your vision blurred with tears.

His face was softer now, more worried than mad.

“I-I had no idea how important that file was to you. I shouldn’t have-”

“It’s okay,” he interrupted, shaking his head.

“No, it’s not,” you insisted. “You worked so hard on it, and now you have to do everything all over again because of me.”

Jongseob let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. “I mean… yeah, it was an important song. And yeah, I was really frustrated. But I can just do it again. It’ll take me a little while, but… it’s fine, I guess.”

Regret washed over you all over again. You squeezed his hand, your fingers lacing with his. “I really am sorry, Jongseob.”

He squeezed back, his thumb brushing over your skin. “I know.”

Then he sighed again, a little softer this time. “And… I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I was upset, and I took it out on you. That wasn’t fair.”

You shook your head. “I get why you reacted that way. I’d be mad too. But I promise, I’ll never touch your stuff again.”

At that, Jongseob let out a small laugh. “Yeah, please don’t do that.”

A tiny smile formed on your lips, and the weight in your chest lifted just a little.

He reached up and gently wiped a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “Are we good now?” he asked, his voice soft.

You nodded. “Yeah. We’re good.”

His shoulders relaxed at your answer, and he smiled. “Good. Now, let’s go eat before our food gets cold.”

You let out a small laugh and sat up, your fingers still loosely wrapped around his.

Even after everything, he was still here. And that was all that mattered.

“So,” you teased, propping yourself up on one elbow, “how was the day in the glamorous life of Keeho?”

He groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “Brutal. Dance practice for hours, then interviews, then photoshoots… I think my soul left my body at some point.”

“Did you find it again, or is this just your ghost calling me?”

“Not sure. Wanna exorcise me just in case?”

You laughed, shaking your head. This was how it always was between you two - easy, effortless. No matter how busy he got, no matter how exhausted he felt, Keeho always made time to call. It was a small thing, but it meant everything.

“Hold on, let me get comfortable,” he muttered, and the screen blurred as he moved. He shifted until he was lying down, his head resting against a pillow. “There. Now we can suffer together.”

You scoffed. “I’m not suffering.”

“Liar.”

You opened your mouth to protest but stopped. He wasn’t entirely wrong. Lately, things had felt… different. It wasn’t just the same old playful friendship anymore. Not for you.

It started subtly. The way your heart raced when you saw him perform on stage in videos, the way your stomach flipped whenever he sent you a random selfie looking stupidly handsome, the way you found yourself replaying old voice messages just to hear his voice.

And now, lying there, watching him through the screen as he lazily blinked at you, you felt it again - that soft ache in your chest. The one that whispered, this is more than just friendship.

But that was the problem, wasn’t it? Because if you were wrong, if this was one-sided, it could ruin everything.

You took a quiet breath, pushing those thoughts away. “Anyway, are you at least eating properly?”

Keeho smirked. “Look at you, being all caring.”

“Shut up. Just answer.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t worry, I’m not about to starve to death.” He shifted slightly, looking at you with an unreadable expression. “Hey… you good, though?”

The question caught you off guard. “Huh?”

“I don’t know. You seem kinda… off lately.”

Your heart skipped. Were you that obvious?

You forced a laugh. “I could say the same about you, Mr. ‘My Soul Left My Body.’”

Keeho narrowed his eyes like he wasn’t buying it, but he didn’t push. “Fine. I’ll let you off the hook. For now.”

“How generous of you.”

You stayed on the call for a while longer, talking about nothing and everything, until eventually, his breathing evened out. He had fallen asleep.

You watched him for a moment, a small smile tugging at your lips. He’d probably scold you for not hanging up, but you didn’t care.

You whispered, just to yourself, “Good night, Kyo.”

And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself wonder - what if?

You weren’t even planning to watch the interview.

It had been a busy day, and you were just about to unwind when a notification popped up: P1Harmony’s latest interview was out. Normally, you caught up on these things eventually, but this time, something told you to watch it right away.

So you did.

The interview started off as expected: questions about their latest comeback, funny stories from the practice room, and the usual chaotic energy from the group. You smiled absentmindedly as Keeho joked around, his personality effortlessly shining through the screen.

Then came a question that made you sit up a little straighter.

“Do you guys even have friends outside the group? Or is it just you six, 24/7?”

The members laughed, exchanging knowing glances. Keeho was the first to answer.

“Of course, we have friends! But honestly, we barely get to see them because of our schedule.”

That much was true. He was always busy, always moving, always working. You had long accepted that your friendship existed mostly through late-night FaceTime calls and stolen moments when he was in town.

But then, Keeho continued.

“I actually have a best friend from childhood.”

Your lips curled into a small smile. That’s me.

“He understands my situation really well. He’s always there for me, especially in tough times, and I’m really grateful for that.”

The smile froze on your face.

…He?

Did you mishear that?

You quickly grabbed the remote and rewound the video, listening again.

“He understands my situation really well. He’s always there for me, especially in tough times, and I’m really grateful for that.”

Nope. You heard correctly.

Keeho just called you “he.”

A mix of emotions bubbled up inside you - confusion, annoyance, disbelief. Why would he say that? It’s not like the interviewer asked for your name. He could’ve just said “my best friend” and left it at that. But no. He specifically chose to refer to you as a guy.

You tried to brush it off, but it stuck with you for the rest of the day. So when Keeho called you that night, you were still fuming.

The second you picked up, you didn’t say a word. You just stared at him through the screen, arms crossed, lips pressed into a tight line.

Keeho, fresh from whatever long day he had, blinked at you in confusion. “Uh… what’s with the face?”

You narrowed your eyes. “So your best friend… who is he? And why have I never met him?”

Keeho paused, processing your words. Then, realization dawned on his face, and just like that, he burst out laughing.

“Oh my god,” he cackled, burying his face in his hands for a moment. “You’re mad about that?”

“You called me he on national television!” you snapped, though the irritation was quickly dissolving into something more playful.

Keeho wiped a fake tear from the corner of his eye, still grinning. “I had no choice! If I said she, people would start digging and freaking out.”

“Wow. So I’m just some mysterious guy to the world now?” You crossed your arms. “I feel so special.”

Keeho smirked. “Hey, technically, I still called you my best friend. You should be honored.”

“Oh, yeah. So honored.”

He rolled onto his side, resting his head on his hand. “You’re really pressed about this, huh?”

“I just think it’s funny,” you said, even though your face was still stuck in an unimpressed expression. “Do I look like a ‘he’ to you?”

“Hmm.” Keeho squinted at the screen like he was deep in thought. “Now that you mention it… maybe a little.”

Your jaw dropped. “You are so dead.”

Keeho cracked up again, his laughter filling the screen. “Relax, relax! You know I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Sure you didn’t,” you muttered.

The call naturally shifted into your usual banter after that, bouncing between playful teasing and casual conversation. Even after years of friendship, talking to Keeho always felt the same - comfortable, familiar, easy.

Then, near the end of the call, Keeho let out a content sigh. “Man, I can’t wait to go home next week.”

Your ears perked up. “Wait- You’re coming back?!”

“Yeah. Finally. It’s been way too long since I saw you in person.” He gave you a lazy smile. “I mean, technically, I see you every day, but you know what I mean.”

You rolled your eyes, but warmth spread in your chest anyway. “Took you long enough.”

“Missed me that much?” he teased.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said sarcastically, but the truth lingered behind the words.

Keeho grinned. “Good. ‘Cause I missed you too.”

And just like that, your heart did that stupid thing again - the little flutter, the quiet ache, the feeling you were still too scared to name.

You exhaled, shaking your head. “Whatever. Just hurry up and get back.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a lazy salute.

The call ended a few minutes later, and you fell back against your pillow, staring at the ceiling.

Next week.

You were finally going to see Keeho next week.

And somehow, that thought made it impossible to sleep.

The anticipation had been building all day.

Keeho was finally back.

You had offered to pick him up from the airport, but he had immediately shut that idea down.

“Too risky,” he had said over text. “If anyone sees us together, it could cause problems.”

You understood, but that didn’t mean you liked it. The thought of Keeho stepping out of the terminal, exhausted from his flight, and having to go home alone instead of being greeted by a familiar face didn’t sit right with you.

Still, you waited.

And then, finally, the doorbell rang.

You practically ran to the door, throwing it open with an excited grin. The second you saw Keeho standing there, his suitcase by his side and a playful smile on his lips, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug.

“Whoa-!” Keeho laughed, stumbling back slightly before regaining his balance. Then, in true Keeho fashion, he took things a step further.

Before you could react, he lifted you off the ground and spun you in a full circle.

A surprised giggle escaped your lips as you clung to him, the familiar warmth of his embrace sending a rush of happiness through you. His presence, his scent, even his stupid antics - it all made your heart skip a beat.

When he finally set you down, you beamed up at him. “I’m so happy to finally see you again.”

Keeho smirked. “I don’t even know how you survived without me.”

You rolled your eyes, shoving his shoulder. “Shut up.”

He chuckled and reached out to tousle your hair, messing it up on purpose. “I’m just kidding. I missed you too.”

You wanted to be annoyed, but you couldn’t stop smiling. It had been way too long since you had moments like this.

As you finally took a proper look at him, something about him felt… different. Of course, he was still the same Keeho, the same ridiculous goofball you grew up with, but there was something new in the way he carried himself.

“You look so different,” you said, tilting your head as you took him in.

Keeho smirked and ran a hand through his dark hair. “Glad you noticed that I got super handsome.”

You let out a sharp hiss of disapproval. “Cocky much?”

Keeho burst out laughing, nudging your arm. “I’m kidding! Without my team of stylists, I’d still be that ugly guy from a few years ago.”

“Okay, okay,” you sighed dramatically. “I get it. You are suuuper handsome now.”

You both laughed, the playful teasing feeling just as natural as ever. But there was more to it than just his looks.

“It’s not just that,” you added, suddenly more thoughtful. “It’s your whole presence. You’re more confident now.”

Keeho raised an eyebrow, watching you carefully. “Is that a good or a bad thing?”

You met his gaze and smiled. “It’s good, of course. As long as you can still be your old self around me.”

Keeho’s expression softened slightly. “You don’t have to worry about that.”

The moment lingered just for a second before he smirked again. “Now, can we go inside? I need to destroy you in Mario Kart.”

With that, the conversation shifted back to its usual energy, but your words stayed with you. Keeho had changed. And as much as you liked teasing him about it, part of you wondered: was it only his confidence that had changed? Or were his feelings changing, too?

Once Keeho settled in, the two of you ended up on the sofa, falling into your usual routine - lazy, comfortable, and filled with endless teasing. Mario Kart became the game of the afternoon, and soon, the living room was filled with dramatic reactions and exaggerated insults.

“You are so bad at this game,” Keeho groaned as you crossed the finish line before him.

“You’re just mad because I’m winning,” you teased, flashing a smug grin.

“I’m mad because you got lucky,” he shot back.

“Excuses, excuses.”

Keeho dramatically collapsed against the couch, pretending to be gravely wounded by his loss. “How did I ever let you get this good? I trained you! I made you!”

“You did not train me,” you laughed. “You just sucked at the game from the start.”

He gasped, clutching his chest. “Betrayal.”

It was stupid, it was childish, it was perfect. Just the kind of moments you had been missing ever since Keeho moved to Korea and his life became a whirlwind of schedules and stages.

After a few more rounds, you finally asked, “By the way, why wouldn’t you let me pick you up from the airport?”

Keeho groaned, stretching his arms above his head. “Because there could’ve been fans there. If someone saw us together, it could start rumors.”

You frowned. “What kind of rumors?”

He glanced at you, as if the answer should have been obvious. “A dating scandal.”

You blinked. “Dating scandal?”

Keeho laughed. “Yeah. If I get spotted with a girl, people will definitely assume something.”

The thought hadn’t even crossed your mind before, but now that he said it, it made sense. To fans, Keeho wasn’t just a normal guy hanging out with a friend. He was an idol, and any interaction with a woman could spiral into endless speculation.

Still, a teasing glint appeared in your eyes. “Would that be so bad?”

Keeho let out an exaggerated “Uh-huh.”

But then, with a mischievous smirk, he added, “Also… just imagine people thinking you and me were dating. Wouldn’t that be so weird?”

Your stomach twisted.

It was just a joke. Just Keeho being Keeho. But for some reason, it stung.

You forced a laugh, shrugging off the strange feeling in your chest. “Yeah, yeah. That’d be hilarious,” you muttered, quickly focusing back on the game.

Keeho didn’t seem to notice the slight shift in your tone. He simply stretched his arms behind his head, completely at ease. “Exactly. So yeah, no airport meet-ups for us. Gotta keep you hidden.”

You hummed in response, but your mind was elsewhere. Because for the first time, it wasn’t just about hiding you from fans. It was about hiding your feelings from yourself.

The evening passed in a blur of laughter, teasing, and playful competition.

After multiple rounds of Mario Kart battles, way too many accusations of cheating, and an excessive amount of dramatic groaning from Keeho whenever he lost, the two of you finally called it quits.

You stretched, feeling the exhaustion from the day start to settle in. “Alright, I’m heading to bed.”

Keeho let out a deep sigh and leaned back against the couch. “Actually…”

You turned to look at him, raising an eyebrow. “Actually… what?”

“Can I just crash here tonight?” He gestured lazily around the room. “I’m too lazy to go anywhere else.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help smiling. “Of course, dumbass. You don’t even have to ask. Make yourself at home.”

Keeho grinned. “Knew I could count on you.”

With that, you turned toward your bedroom, already thinking about how nice it would feel to finally collapse into bed. But just as you reached the doorway, Keeho’s voice stopped you.

“Hey.”

You turned back around, finding him sitting up now, his expression softer than before.

“Thank you.”

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “For what?”

Keeho hesitated for a moment, then gave you a small, genuine smile. “For everything.”

Your heart skipped. “Be more specific, dummy.”

He chuckled but then exhaled, his gaze turning more serious. “For being my best friend. And mostly… for treating me the same way you always did.”

You frowned slightly. “Why would I treat you any differently?”

Something in Keeho’s expression shifted. He glanced down for a second, as if choosing his words carefully.

“You know… once you become famous, people start treating you differently,” he said quietly. “Or worse, they use you for your fame to get something out of it. It’s hard to tell who’s really there for you and who just wants the advantages that come with knowing you.”

You stayed silent, letting him continue.

“But with you, it’s different,” he said, looking back up at you. “I know I can always be myself around you. I can rely on you without wondering if there’s a catch. So… thank you for that.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart beat just a little faster.

You gave him a soft smile. “Of course, Kyo.”

Keeho’s eyes flickered at the nickname, the corner of his lips twitching like he wanted to smile again.

“I’ll always be here whenever you need me,” you added.

Keeho’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer before he gave a small nod. “Good night, then.”

“Good night,” you said, offering him one last smile before finally heading into your room.

You shut the door behind you, but sleep didn’t come easily.

Instead, you lay in bed, staring at the ceiling, Keeho’s words replaying in your mind.

You had always known he trusted you. You had always known your friendship was special. But hearing him say it like that, hearing the vulnerability in his voice, the way he relied on you so completely, it made your emotions feel even more complicated.

The boy you had been friends with since forever, the one who had been there through every stage of your life, the one who made you laugh without even trying, the one who had somehow become more attractive every time you saw him, was only a few meters away from you.

But somehow, it still felt like he was far out of your reach.

The room was dark, and the warmth of your blankets wrapped around you like a cocoon. You were lost in the depths of sleep when suddenly, a hand gripped your waist.

A soft breath ghosted against your skin as you shifted in bed, feeling an unfamiliar presence beside you. Your body tensed.

Your eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the dim light filtering through the window. Keeho.

He was next to you.

Your heart skipped a beat as your mind scrambled to process what was happening. “Keeho? What are you-”

“Shhh.”

Keeho’s index finger gently pressed against your lips, silencing you before you could say anything else.

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t normal. This wasn’t your usual playful Keeho.

Before you could react, he leaned in.

And then - he kissed you.

Your eyes widened in shock at first, the feeling of his lips against yours sending a wave of disbelief through your body. This was real. This was happening.

But as the initial surprise faded, something inside you gave in. Something that had been buried for too long.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and without thinking, you melted into the kiss.

Keeho pulled you closer, his grip on your waist tightening as the kiss deepened. His warmth, his touch, everything about him felt so intoxicatingly familiar yet completely new at the same time.

You had no idea what this meant. Why was Keeho doing this? What did it mean for your friendship?

But in that moment, you didn’t care.

Until-

You woke up.

Your eyes snapped open, heart pounding. Staring up at the ceiling, you tried to breathe, to process, to make sense of what had just happened. Until it hit you.

It was just a dream.

Sitting up abruptly, you ran a hand through your hair, trying to steady yourself. Your lips tingled as if the sensation had been real, and without thinking, your fingers traced over them.

“What the hell was that?” you whispered to yourself.

As if to ground yourself, you glanced around the room. Everything was exactly as it had been when you went to bed. The blanket was still wrapped around you. The door to your bedroom was still closed.

Just then, the faint sound of running water reached your ears. You turned toward the door, realizing Keeho was still here. He must’ve woken up before you and was now taking a shower.

You exhaled sharply, pressing your hands against your face. How the hell were you supposed to look him in the eye after having such a wild dream?

You sat at the edge of your bed, rubbing your temples. Get a grip. It was just a dream. A very realistic, very intense dream, but still, just a dream.

Shaking off the lingering sensation of Keeho's lips on yours, you got up and made your way to the living room, hoping some fresh air would help clear your head.

The first thing you noticed were Keeho's clothes scattered across the sofa. His hoodie, his sweatpants, his socks, his boxers - all of them just thrown there like he had stripped on the spot.

Your brain was still half-asleep, so it took a second to register why they were there.

And then, before you could process it, you turned around and slammed straight into something solid. No. Someone.

Large hands instinctively wrapped around your arms to steady you, keeping you from stumbling back. The warmth of his skin against yours sent a shock through your body, and when you looked up, you froze.

Keeho was standing right in front of you.

Dripping wet.

His damp, dark hair clung to his forehead, strands falling into his deep brown eyes.

His bare chest was still glistening from the shower, water droplets running down the sharp lines of his toned torso.

And that's when you realized.

He was wearing nothing but a towel.

Keeho was basically naked.

A strangled noise left your throat as you jumped back, throwing your hands over your eyes like it would somehow erase what you just saw.

"Oh my god! Keeho!"

Keeho burst out laughing, completely unbothered. "What? Can't handle the sight in front of you?"

Your face burned. "Put on some clothes, you idiot!"

He smirked. "Why are you acting so weird? You've seen me shirtless countless times before."

Yeah. But this time was different.

This time, your mind was still stuck in that dream. This time, he wasn't just your best friend. This time, you couldn't ignore how attractive he was.

You kept your hands firmly over your eyes, refusing to let yourself look at him again.

"That was before you became a full-on gym rat!"

Keeho grinned. "Oh? So you're saying I look better now?"

You groaned. "Shut up and put some damn clothes on!"

Still chuckling, Keeho ruffled his damp hair and finally turned to grab his clothes from the couch.

Meanwhile, you stood there, refusing to open your eyes, trying to will your heart to stop racing.

After what felt like an eternity of keeping your eyes shut, you finally heard Keeho shuffling around behind you. A moment later, his voice rang out, still way too amused for your liking.

“Alright, alright. I’m dressed. You can relax now.”

Cautiously, you peeked through your fingers, just to be safe. Keeho stood in front of you, now fully clothed in his hoodie and sweatpants, hair still slightly damp but no longer dripping.

You exhaled in relief, pretending like your heart wasn’t still racing. Pretending like you weren’t replaying the image of him half-naked in your mind. Pretending like last night’s dream wasn’t messing with your head.

Keeho smirked, watching you carefully. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you said way too fast.

Keeho’s smirk deepened. “Are you sure? You seem kinda… tense.”

“I’m fine,” you said, waving him off. “Let’s just- let’s eat or something. I’m starving.”

“Uh-huh,” Keeho said, clearly not buying it, but thankfully, he didn’t push. Instead, he stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “Alright, food sounds good. What do you have?”

You made your way to the kitchen, glad for the distraction. “Not much. I need to go grocery shopping. But I think I have eggs, maybe some toast.”

Keeho gasped dramatically, cutting you off. “Excuse me? You invited an international K-pop sensation into your home and didn’t prepare a five-star meal for him?”

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “First of all, you invited yourself. Second of all, you’re getting whatever I have, Mr. International K-pop Sensation.”

Keeho grinned. “Fair enough. I’ll make us something.”

“You can cook?” you asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“I lived alone for years. What do you think I ate? Air?”

“Honestly? Wouldn’t be surprised.”

Keeho rolled his eyes but started gathering ingredients anyway. Soon, the kitchen was filled with the sizzling sound of eggs frying in a pan and the familiar comfort of easy conversation. For a moment, everything felt normal again.

Until Keeho suddenly turned to you and asked, “Hey, are you seeing anyone?”

You nearly dropped your glass of water.

Your brain short-circuited for a second before you managed to choke out, “W-what?”

Keeho shrugged, flipping the eggs like he hadn’t just sent your entire nervous system into overdrive. “I dunno. I was just thinking… I’ve been gone for a while. Maybe you met someone.”

Why was he asking this? Why now?

Your heart was pounding, but you forced yourself to play it cool. “No. Not seeing anyone.”

Keeho smirked. “Interesting.”

You frowned. “Why is that interesting?”

Keeho gave you a pointed look. “Because you’re awesome. Anyone would be lucky to date you.”

For a second, you forgot how to breathe. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. What were you even supposed to say to that?

Keeho seemed completely unaware of the chaos he had just unleashed inside your brain. He just went back to cooking like he hadn’t just casually thrown you into an emotional crisis.

You took a deep breath, trying desperately to regain your composure. It was just Keeho being Keeho. Playful, teasing, completely unaware of the fact that you had been hopelessly falling for him.

“Well,” you said, forcing a smirk, “what about you? You seeing anyone?”

Keeho paused. It was subtle, but you caught it. The tiniest hesitation. The smallest flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. Then, just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Nah,” he said easily, plating the eggs like the question meant nothing. “Too busy for that.”

Something about his tone didn’t sit right with you. Too busy? Sure, Keeho was busy, but that never stopped him from making time for you. From calling you at 3AM after a long day. From flying home whenever he had a break, even if it was just for a few days. If he really wanted to be with someone, he’d find a way. Right?

Before you could overthink it, Keeho slid a plate in front of you and grinned. “Eat up, loser.”

You rolled your eyes, but your mind was still stuck on that tiny pause. That unreadable look. And for the first time, you wondered - was Keeho really not seeing anyone? Or was he hiding something?

The two of you were laying on the couch, watching some random movie, when Keeho’s phone buzzed. At first, you didn’t pay attention. But then, he ignored the call.

No glance at the screen. No “I’ll call them later.” He just reached over and flipped his phone over, screen-down. Your eyebrows furrowed.

“Who was that?” you asked.

Keeho stretched his arms over his head and yawned. “No one important.”

Another buzz. A text this time. And again - Keeho ignored it. Your curiosity piqued.

Now, normally, you weren’t the nosy type. Normally, you respected privacy. But something about the way Keeho was deliberately ignoring his phone had your stomach twisting with suspicion.

So when Keeho got up to grab a drink from the kitchen, leaving his phone unattended, you glanced at the screen. Just one quick look. One tiny peek. But what you saw made your breath catch.

Unknown Number: Hey… I miss you.

Your heart stopped.

What. The. Hell.

Before you could process it, Keeho returned, plopping back onto the couch like nothing had happened.

“You want anything?” he asked, sipping his drink.

But you barely heard him. Because your brain was now screaming with questions. Who the hell was that? Why were they saying they missed him? Why did Keeho act like it was nothing?

You opened your mouth, about to say something - confront him, ask him, anything - but Keeho suddenly threw an arm over the back of the couch, stretching out lazily. And then, as if sensing the tension in your body, he smirked.

“Why do you look like you’re plotting my murder?”

You stiffened. “I do not.”

“You do.”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “You’re imagining things.”

Keeho raised an eyebrow. “Uh-huh. Sure.”

He was completely unaware of what you had just seen. And maybe it was the paranoia creeping in. Maybe it was the exhaustion of constantly pushing your feelings down.

But suddenly, for the first time since he came home, you didn’t feel like you knew Keeho as well as you thought. And that thought terrified you.

The breaking point came later that night.

Keeho had gone to the bathroom, and you were curled up on the couch, pretending to scroll through your phone. But your thoughts were elsewhere.

Who was texting him?

Why didn’t he answer?

Was he hiding something from you?

And before you could stop yourself, you found yourself reaching for Keeho’s phone. It was sitting on the coffee table, completely unlocked. He trusted you. And you weren’t the type to snoop.

But something deep inside you, something desperate, something insecure, something you didn’t want to name, was itching for answers. So, before you could second-guess yourself, you grabbed his phone and opened his messages.

Your heart pounded as you scrolled, searching for the unknown number. And then - you found it.

Unknown Number: Hey… I miss you.

Unknown Number: Keeho? Are you ignoring me?

Unknown Number: I know things got messy, but can we please just talk?

Messy?

Your breath caught in your throat. This wasn’t just some friend. Something happened between Keeho and this person. And he hadn’t told you.

Your fingers hovered over the screen, temptation gnawing at you. Do you click the number? Do you look through their conversation? But before you could decide-

“What are you doing?”

Your whole body froze.

Slowly, dread creeping up your spine, you turned around. Keeho was standing there, dripping wet from the shower, a towel slung around his neck.

His expression? Not amused. Not confused. Just… disappointed.

You opened your mouth, scrambling for an excuse, a joke, anything. But Keeho’s voice came low, serious.

“I trusted you.”

Your stomach dropped. For the first time in your life, you had nothing to say. And for the first time in your life, Keeho wasn’t smiling at you. Your breath caught in your throat. The air between you and Keeho was thick with tension, heavier than it had ever been before.

“I-” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “Keeho, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

Keeho let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “Didn’t mean to what? Go through my phone?”

Your stomach twisted. “I wasn’t- I just-”

“You just what?” His tone wasn’t angry, but it wasn’t Keeho’s usual teasing either. It was calm. Controlled. But that was almost worse.

You felt the urge to explain, to tell him that you weren’t trying to snoop, that you had just seen the text and couldn’t get it out of your head. But how were you supposed to say that without making it sound even worse?

Keeho exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. “You know, I don’t think you realize how messed up this is.”

Your chest tightened. “I know. I know it was wrong. But Keeho- why are you acting like I just betrayed you?”

Keeho scoffed. “Because you did.”

You flinched.

He sighed, gripping the back of his neck like he was trying to stay calm. “Do you have any idea how many people already invade my privacy? How many people already think they’re entitled to know every little detail about my life?” His voice grew tighter, more frustrated. “I never thought you’d be one of them.”

Guilt clawed at your chest. “That’s not what this was-”

“Then what was it?” Keeho pressed. “You don’t trust me?”

Your heart pounded. “Of course I trust you.”

“Yeah?” Keeho let out a dry laugh, shaking his head. “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it.”

Your fingers curled into fists. “Keeho, I saw the text. Someone said they missed you, and you just ignored it. What was I supposed to think?”

“You were supposed to ask me, not sneak around behind my back!”

That made you snap.

“Oh, like you would’ve just told me the truth?” The words left your mouth before you could stop them.

Keeho’s expression shifted, something unreadable flickering through his eyes.

The silence that followed was loud.

He let out a slow breath, shaking his head. “You know what? Maybe I should just go.”

Your heart dropped.

“Wait- what?”

Keeho grabbed his hoodie from the couch, not looking at you. “I think it’s best if I head home now.”

Panic flared in your chest. “Keeho, don’t do that. Can we just-”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” he said, finally looking at you. But his eyes weren’t filled with the usual warmth. They were tired. Guarded. Distant.

And that hurt more than anything.

Your throat felt tight. “So what? You’re just gonna leave?”

Keeho hesitated, like maybe, just maybe, he was reconsidering.

But then, he exhaled sharply and turned away. “Yeah.”

And just like that, he was gone.

The door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the apartment. You stood there, frozen, staring at the empty space he had just left behind. And for the first time since Keeho came home, you weren’t sure if he was coming back.

One day.

It had only been one day since Keeho left your apartment, but it felt like an eternity.

His absence clung to every corner of the space. The empty spot on the couch where he had been sitting, the unfinished game of Mario Kart on the Switch, the faint scent of his cologne still lingering in the air.

And worst of all? The silence.

Keeho hadn’t called. He hadn’t texted. Nothing.

Which meant all you had left was your own mind, replaying the fight over and over again, twisting it around in every possible way, wondering if you had just ruined the most important relationship in your life.

Maybe it was best to just let him go. Maybe you had messed up too badly this time.

But suddenly your phone buzzed.

Your heart jumped into your throat as you scrambled to grab it, nearly dropping it in your rush. And there it was. A message from Keeho.

Keeho: Can we talk?

For a moment, all you could do was stare at the screen, heartbeat pounding. Then, without hesitating, you typed back:

You: Yeah. Come over.

Keeho arrived later that evening.

The second you opened the door, you searched his face, trying to read him. But his expression was… blank. Not cold. Not angry. Just carefully unreadable. That alone made your stomach twist.

You stepped aside, letting him in. Keeho walked past you into the apartment, heading toward the couch like he had done a hundred times before. Only this time, it wasn’t the same.

You quickly grabbed two glasses of water from the kitchen before sitting beside him, but not too close. There was still a strange weight in the air, a careful distance between you. For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence was unbearable.

Until finally, you broke it. “Keeho, I am so sorry for-”

“Stop.” Keeho’s voice was firm, cutting you off immediately.

You looked at him, confused.

His jaw tensed slightly before he exhaled and shook his head. “There’s nothing for you to apologize for.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Keeho-”

“Seriously.” He glanced down at his hands, voice quieter now. “If anything… I should be the one apologizing.”

You blinked. “What?”

Keeho let out a deep sigh, running a hand through his hair before finally meeting your eyes.

“There’s something I have to tell you.”

Your breath hitched.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.”

Your pulse spiked.

Suddenly, the room felt too small, too quiet. The air crackled with tension, thick with something unspoken, something Keeho had been holding back. And as you looked at him, as you saw the hesitation, the conflict in his eyes, you realized - whatever Keeho was about to say, it was going to change everything.

And the question wasn’t whether you wanted to hear it. It was whether you were ready.

Keeho remained silent at first, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie. The air between you was thick, every second of silence dragging on painfully.

Your heart pounded as you whispered, “What is it, Keeho?”

He took a deep breath, as if gathering courage.

“When I asked you if you were seeing anyone…” Keeho started, hesitating before his eyes finally met yours. “I asked because… I am seeing someone.”

Your breath caught in your throat. A painful sting spread through your stomach, sharp and unexpected. Did Keeho just- Did he just confess that he has a girlfriend?

You forced yourself to stay still, composed, but the sudden weight in your chest made it hard to breathe.

Still, all you could manage to say was, “What- what do you mean?”

Keeho sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I thought that maybe if you were seeing someone, I wouldn’t have to feel so bad for not telling you about this earlier.”

He looked down, ashamed.

“But I was wrong… I feel guilty. I feel like I betrayed you because I was lying to you.”

Even though jealousy gnawed at your insides, you tried to pull yourself together.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and said, “You didn’t lie to me, Keeho. You just kept it a secret, and that’s totally reasonable. Not every single detail of your life is my business.”

Keeho’s head snapped up, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your pulse race. “But you’re my best friend… and there shouldn’t be anything that makes me feel the need to not tell you.”

You forced a fake, shaky. “It’s okay, Keeho.”

Keeho searched your face for something, maybe reassurance, maybe understanding, but his expression only tightened. “But it’s not what you think.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Keeho hesitated again, like he was searching for the right words. Then, his voice dropped lower. “I think I didn’t tell you because I was scared of how you would react to it. Of how it would change things between us.”

Your stomach twisted.

“What are you saying?” you murmured. “Keeho, if you’re happy, I’m happy.”

Keeho shook his head.

“But I’m not happy.”

Your heart skipped.

“I tried- I really tried to open up to her,” Keeho admitted, voice strained. “But I failed. I didn’t want to hurt her, but…” His fingers clenched into fists. “I figured that there’s already someone else my heart belongs to.”

Your lips parted in shock.

Someone else.

Someone else.

What… What did he mean?

Was there another person, someone he hadn’t told you about? Your mind raced, trying to make sense of his words.

Your mouth felt dry as you whispered, “Who…?”

Keeho looked at you, his gaze unreadable.

And suddenly, everything felt like it was hanging on his next words.

Keeho’s eyes darted down to his hands, his fingers fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie as he struggled to find the right words. His hesitation made your stomach twist. He was nervous. But why?

“I’m not sure how things will change after this,” Keeho admitted with a sigh.

Your nails dug into your thighs nervously. Your heart pounded against your ribs, fear creeping up your spine. You were scared of his answer. Scared of hearing something that would break you into pieces.

But when he finally spoke, his words shattered you in an entirely different way.

“It’s you.”

Your breath hitched. Your lips parted, but no words came out. Did you hear him right? You stared at Keeho, eyes wide in shock.

He gave you a small, nervous smile, but his fingers were clenched together like he was holding his breath, waiting, terrified of your reaction.

“Please say something,” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper. “Or else this is super awkward for me.”

Your mind was still spinning.

“Keeho… I- I don’t know what to say.”

Keeho let out a short, nervous laugh. “Just say something. Anything. Even if you’re gonna break my heart, I won’t be mad at you.”

You quickly shook your head. “No, Keeho. I just- I had no idea you were feeling this way.”

Keeho exhaled sharply, his lips curling into a self-deprecating smile. “Well, that’s because I never told you.”

You could feel the weight of his words hanging in the air. This wasn’t a joke. This wasn’t Keeho teasing you like he always did. This was real. Keeho was serious.

And you needed to say something - anything - to make him understand that you felt the same way. But before you could even form the words, Keeho rubbed the back of his neck, looking away.

“Well… this is embarrassing,” he muttered. “Maybe I should’ve just kept my mouth shut.”

“No!” The word burst out of you before you could stop it.

Without thinking, you reached out and placed a hand on his thigh, your grip firm, desperate. Keeho’s eyes widened, completely taken aback by your sudden reaction.

Your voice softened as you mumbled, “It’s not embarrassing.”

Keeho stared at you, his lips parting slightly, stunned. You took a deep breath, gathering your courage.

“Keeho, I…” You hesitated, then pushed through. “I’ve been feeling the same way.”

Keeho’s body tensed.

You could feel your face heating up, but you didn’t stop.

“I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t even know if I should tell you-” You swallowed hard. “Because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

Keeho blinked at you, his expression unreadable.

The silence was heavy, deafening.

Then, after what felt like forever, Keeho let out a breathless laugh. “Are you serious?”

You gave him a small, nervous nod.

Keeho exhaled, running a hand down his face. “Holy shit.”

You bit your lip. “Yeah. Holy shit.”

Keeho stared at you for a moment longer, like he was trying to process everything.

And then, suddenly, Keeho grinned.

A real, genuine, Keeho-style grin.

“You’re telling me we’ve both been idiots this whole time?”

A laugh escaped your lips, relieved, overwhelmed, completely breathless. “Yeah. I guess we have.”

Keeho shook his head in disbelief before grinning like an idiot. “I can’t believe you kept it a secret that you’re in love with me.”

You hissed, narrowing your eyes. “Who says I’m in love? It’s just a little, tiny crush.”

Keeho let out a deep chuckle, running a hand through his hair playfully. “Oh, come on. Stop lying. I know it’s hard not to fall in love with someone like me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I can’t even believe I like someone as cocky as you.”

Keeho raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”

Before you could react, Keeho lunged forward and started tickling you.

“K-Keeho!” you shrieked, laughing so hard you could barely breathe.

“Admit it!” Keeho said between teasing attacks.

“N-No! Stop!” you gasped, thrashing against him, but he didn’t let up.

You kicked, you squirmed, tears forming at the corners of your eyes from laughing so hard.

“Keeho, please!” you screamed.

But he didn’t stop. Instead, in the middle of his merciless assault, Keeho lost his balance and suddenly he slipped and fell on top of you.

The room went completely silent.

Your breath hitched as you froze beneath him. Keeho’s hands were on either side of your head, his body hovering over yours, his face only inches away. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the weight of his presence pressing against you.

Your stomach flipped.

Keeho had never been this close before.

You could see every detail - the way his dark eyes flickered with something unreadable, the way his lips were just slightly parted, the way his chest rose and fell a little faster than usual.

“Hey…” Keeho murmured.

Just one word.

Soft. Barely a whisper.

Your lips parted, breath catching in your throat. “What-”

But before you managed to finish your sentence, Keeho leaned in. And then, his lips intertwined with yours.

Your eyes widened in shock.

For a split second, your brain refused to believe this was real.

Was this happening?

Was Keeho really kissing you?

But you quickly realized that this time, it wasn’t a dream. This time, it was real. A million butterflies erupted in your stomach, your whole body tingling at the feeling of Keeho’s lips against yours.

Soft. Warm. Perfect.

And suddenly - you weren’t thinking anymore.

You let yourself melt into the kiss.

Your body relaxed, your hands gripping the fabric of his hoodie, pulling him in just the slightest bit closer.

Keeho responded immediately, tilting his head, deepened the kiss, one of his hands moving to gently cup your cheek. It was slow, sweet, teasing. Just like him.

Your heart felt like it was about to explode.

Every suppressed feeling, every stolen glance, every unspoken word between you - all of it was pouring into this moment.

When Keeho finally pulled away, his forehead rested against yours, his breath shaky. For a moment, neither of you spoke.

Then, he let out a soft chuckle.

“You okay down there?” he teased, like he hadn’t just turned your entire world upside down.

“No, I am not okay.” You buried your face in your hands. “You can’t just kiss me out of nowhere and then act all casual about it!”

Keeho chuckled. “Would you rather I have given you a warning?”

You glared at him. “Yes!”

“Alright,” Keeho grinned. Then, he suddenly cupped your face with his hand, leaning in way too close again.

“Hey,” he whispered.

Your breath hitched. “W-What?”

“I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Your brain malfunctioned.

And then, before you could even process what was happening - Keeho kissed you again.

This time, it was shorter, but just as dizzying.

And when he pulled away, he was grinning even wider.

“There. Warning included.”

Your soul left your body.

“Keeho, I swear to God-!”

Keeho cackled, dodging the pillow you threw at him.

“Told you,” he murmured.

You blinked up at him, breathless. “Told me what?”

“That you were in love with me.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Shut up, Keeho.”

He just laughed, stealing another quick kiss before finally letting you breathe again.

And in that moment - you realized.

This wasn’t just a crush anymore.

It was so much more.

And it always had been.

The room was still charged with electricity from the kiss, the warmth of Keeho’s lips lingering on yours. Neither of you had moved. Neither of you had spoken. But the question hung in the air between you, heavy and impossible to ignore.

“So… what happens now?” you finally asked, your voice softer than you expected.

Keeho exhaled, running a hand through his hair as he leaned back against the couch, deep in thought.

“I guess that depends on us,” he murmured.

Your stomach twisted. “Us.” That word felt so foreign - so new.

Keeho looked over at you, studying your expression carefully. “You’re overthinking, aren’t you?”

You bit your lip. “It’s just… you’re leaving soon. You’re going back to Korea, back to your crazy schedule, back to a life where we barely see each other.”

Keeho was quiet for a moment before he shifted closer, reaching for your hand. His fingers curled around yours, warm and familiar.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said simply.

You let out a breath. “How can you be so sure?”

Keeho squeezed your hand gently. “Because it’s us.”

Your heart fluttered.

“Yeah, but long-distance relationships are hard. You’ll be busy, traveling, constantly surrounded by people. What if-”

Keeho cut you off. “What if we make it work?”

You blinked at him.

“What if we don’t let the distance change anything?” he continued, his voice steady. “I know it won’t be easy, but I don’t want to pretend this didn’t happen. I don’t want to go back to how things were before.”

Your chest tightened. “Neither do I.”

Keeho smiled, his thumb grazing over your knuckles. “Then we’ll find a way.”

You stared at him, searching for any hesitation, any doubt. But Keeho looked at you like this was the easiest decision in the world.

Like he had already chosen you.

You let out a shaky laugh. “I still can’t believe this is happening.”

Keeho smirked. “If you need another kiss to remind you, I’m happy to help.”

You rolled your eyes, but your smile didn’t fade. Maybe this wouldn’t be easy. Maybe there were challenges ahead. But right now, sitting here with Keeho, his fingers laced with yours -

You were willing to try.

───── ♡ ─────

Silence stretched between the three of you, the club’s pounding music suddenly background noise compared to the sheer weight of your drunken confession. You watched as Keeho and Intak turned to each other, their confusion melting into matching smirks.

“Ohhh,” Intak said, grinning from ear to ear.

Keeho leaned in, eyebrows raised. "Interesting."

Your stomach dropped. "What?"

Intak nudged Keeho. "She wants to go to our place because Jiung is there."

Keeho gasped dramatically. "Wait- could it be? Our dear friend has a crush?"

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. "Can we just go?"

Keeho and Intak exchanged another knowing look, their grins widening. They didn’t say anything as they grabbed their coats, but you just knew this wasn't over. Not by a long shot.

“So, since when have you had the hots for Jiung?” Keeho asked, his voice dripping with amusement.

You rolled your eyes, stumbling slightly as you walked. "I don't have the hots for him."

Intak snickered. "Uh-huh. Sure. That’s why you immediately asked to go to our place when you found out he was there?"

The alcohol had you feeling bold or reckless, maybe both, so you huffed and threw your hands up. “Fine! I think he’s hot! Like, stupidly, unfairly hot! I mean, have you seen him? His jawline? His voice? His hands?”

Keeho and Intak bursted into laughter, but you were on a roll now.

“And he’s so… I don’t know, cool. Like, effortlessly cool. It’s annoying! And don’t even get me started on when he wears those sleeveless shirts because oh my god. I want him so bad-”

You stopped. The realization hit like a truck. Your eyes went wide as your drunken brain catched up with what your mouth had been spewing for the past minute and a half.

Slowly, you turned to look at Keeho and Intak, who were now wheezing, practically crying from laughter. Keeho was bent over, gripping his stomach, while Intak was clutching onto his shoulder for support.

"Oh no," you whispered, horrified. "I talked too much."

Keeho wiped a tear from his eye. "Oh, you sure did."

Intak grinned. "I think my favorite part was when you said you wanted him."

You choked. "I said what?"

Keeho smirked. "You said, and I quote - 'I want him so bad.'"

You stared at them in absolute horror as the words replayed in your head. You did say that. Out loud.

"Take me home," you mumbled, covering your face. "Bury me in the ground. I don't exist anymore."

But Keeho just threws an arm around your shoulder, shaking his head with a devilish grin. "Oh no, we're definitely going to our place now."

"And you're definitely facing Jiung," Intak added.

You were doomed.

The ride to Keeho and Intak’s apartment was torture. They wouldn’t shut up about Jiung, throwing your own words back at you every chance they got. You threatened to jump out of the car, but that only made them laugh harder.

By the time you arrived, you were fully expecting to die of embarrassment the moment you stepped inside. But then - relief.

Jiung wasn’t there.

“Thank god,” you mumbled under your breath, slumping against the doorway.

Keeho glanced at his phone. “He must be working late,” he muttered before tossing his keys onto the counter. “Lucky you.”

You let out a huge sigh and stumbled toward the couch, throwing yourself onto it dramatically. The cushions were soft, and your body finally relaxed now that the immediate threat of Jiung witnessing your humiliation had passed.

But Keeho and Intak? They weren’t about to let you off the hook so easily.

“So…” Keeho dragged out the word as he flopped onto the couch beside you.

Intak plopped down on the armrest, grinning. “Are we just gonna ignore the fact that you said you want Jiung?”

You groaned, burying your face in a pillow. “Can we please forget that happened?”

Keeho scoffed. “Absolutely not.”

"You said you want him," Intak reminded you, smirking. “So, maybe you should try to get him.”

You lifted your head just enough to glare at him. “Yeah? And how do you suggest I do that?”

Keeho shrugged. “I mean, Jiung is still single. He’d definitely be down for a little fun.”

Intak hummed in agreement. “He hasn’t been with a girl in a while, so honestly? He’s probably just as desperate as you are.”

You choked. “Excuse me?”

Intak grinned. “I’m just saying…”

“Stop,” you groaned, dragging your hands down your face. The heat creeping up your neck was unbearable, and it only got worse when Intak and Keeho exchanged that look, like they were already planning ways to make this worse for you.

But thankfully, after a few more minutes of teasing, they seemed to get bored of torturing you. Keeho stretched with a yawn. “Alright, I’m heading to bed. Don’t stay up all night thinking about Jiung, okay?”

Intak smirked as he stood up. “Or do. Might help you manifest something.”

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. He dodged effortlessly, laughing as he disappeared into his room. Keeho followed, leaving you alone in the living room.

You exhaled deeply and sank further into the couch, exhausted. The apartment was quiet now, the only sound being the distant hum of the city outside. The warmth of the alcohol still lingered in your body, making your eyelids heavy. You didn’t even bother grabbing a blanket. The couch was comfortable enough, and after the chaos of the night, sleep took you instantly.

The first thing you felt when you woke up was a pounding headache. The second was the realization that you weren’t in your own bed. Your eyes fluttered open, and as you stared at the ceiling, it took you a moment to remember - Keeho and Intak’s apartment. The place they shared with Jiung.

Panic set in.

You groaned softly, rubbing your face as memories from last night started flooding back. The club. The drinks. The things you had told the boys about Jiung.

Oh god.

You squeezed your eyes shut in embarrassment, silently praying that Jiung hadn’t seen you passed out on the couch. Maybe he still wasn’t home. Maybe you could sneak out before anyone noticed. Slowly, you sat up, scanning the apartment. The place was quiet, and there was no sign of Keeho or Intak. That was a good sign, right? You quickly gathered your things, trying to be as quiet as possible. If you could just slip out the door without making a sound-

"Leaving already?"

You froze.

That voice was too familiar. Your breath caught in your throat as you turned around, heart pounding.

There he was.

Jiung stood a few feet away, looking effortlessly attractive despite being dressed casually in sweatpants and a hoodie. His bleached hair was slightly messy, and the soft morning light from the window made him look even more unreal.

You let out an awkward laugh, trying to mask your nervousness. “Uh- yeah. I need to shower and everything.”

Jiung tilted his head slightly, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “You can shower here.”

You blinked. What?

Before you could respond, he walked past you toward the kitchen. “I was about to make breakfast,” he added casually. “It’d be a shame if you couldn’t try the best pancakes in the world.”

Your brain short-circuited. Jiung was… inviting you to stay? Why was he being so nice to you all of a sudden? You had never really talked much before, and now he was offering you a shower and pancakes?

You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat rising to your cheeks. “O-okay. I’ll just ask Keeho if I can borrow some clothes.”

Jiung nodded before disappearing into the kitchen, leaving you standing there, completely dazed.

As you made your way to the bathroom, your mind raced. Was Jiung just being polite? Or did he- no, stop. Don’t overthink this. Still, as you closed the bathroom door behind you, you couldn’t help but let out a deep sigh.

This man was going to make you suffer.

After a quick shower and changing into the clothes Keeho lent you, you took a deep breath and stepped out of the bathroom. The scent of fresh pancakes and syrup filled the air, making your stomach grumble. As you entered the kitchen, Keeho, Intak, and Jiung were already sitting at the table, plates of food in front of them.

The moment Intak spotted you, he grinned and, with a mouth full of food, yelled, "Good morning, drunkard!"

You froze.

Keeho burst out laughing, and even Jiung let out a small chuckle as your entire face heated up. You groaned, rubbing your temples as you sat down at the table, avoiding their amused gazes. "Can you not?"

"Sorry, sorry," Intak said, clearly not sorry at all. "You just had a lot to say last night. Very entertaining stuff."

You shot him a glare before quickly turning your attention to the plate in front of you. The food looked incredible, but more than anything, you found yourself staring at the stack of pancakes Jiung had made. They were golden brown, drizzled with syrup, and smelled heavenly.

You picked up your fork and took a bite, your eyes widening slightly. "Oh my god."

Jiung glanced at you, raising an eyebrow. "Good?"

"So good," you admitted, immediately taking another bite.

He smirked slightly before focusing back on his own food. Keeho, however, wasn’t about to let the moment slide.

"So, what’s the plan for today?" Keeho asked, stretching lazily.

Jiung leaned back in his chair. "We could just stay in. Play some video games, watch some movies."

Intak nodded. "Sounds good to me."

You swallowed the last of your pancake and wiped your hands on a napkin. "I should probably head home after breakfast."

You expected them to just nod, but instead, Jiung looked up from his plate. "You can chill with us if you want."

Your heart stopped for a second.

Keeho and Intak both turned to look at you, and you could practically feel their knowing smirks burning into your skin. Why was Jiung asking you to stay? You weren’t even that close. You’d barely talked before.

You hesitated, still processing his words, but then… you realized something. This was your chance. Your chance to get closer to him, even if it was going to be awkward as hell now that Keeho and Intak knew just how down bad you were for Jiung.

You cleared your throat, keeping your expression as neutral as possible. "Uh… yeah. I guess I could stay a little longer."

Intak smirked. Keeho wiggled his eyebrows. Jiung just nodded and continued eating like he hadn’t just thrown your entire world into chaos.

You were so doomed.

The day had gone by in a blur of video games, silly movies, and way too much teasing from Keeho and Intak. You had done your best to act normal around Jiung, but every time you glanced in his direction, you felt the heat rise to your cheeks.

Now, as the evening settled in, you stretched your arms and let out a small sigh. “Alright, I should really head home now.” You glanced at the others, expecting someone to offer to drive you. “Anyone down to take me?”

Keeho suddenly let out an exaggerated yawn, stretching his arms. “Ahh, I’m so tired. I think I need to go to bed right now.”

You narrowed your eyes. Liar.

Intak smirked. “Yeah, same. I have to prep some things for work.”

Before you could argue, Keeho turned to Jiung, grinning way too much. “Jiung can drive you home.”

Your stomach dropped.

Jiung barely hesitated before nodding. “Sure, I can do that.”

You swore you heard Intak snicker under his breath. Keeho gave you a pointed look, and before you could even react, both of them were already heading toward their rooms, leaving you alone with Jiung.

You glared at the hallway where they disappeared, knowing full well they did that on purpose.

Jiung grabbed his jacket and car keys before turning to you. “Got everything?”

You nodded quickly, still trying to process that this was actually happening. “Yeah.”

The two of you headed outside, the air crisp against your skin as you climbed into Jiung’s car. The moment he started the engine, a thick awkward silence settled between you. You stared straight ahead, your hands resting in your lap, too aware of his presence beside you. Jiung, in his usual effortless way, didn’t seem fazed at all. But you? Your thoughts were racing.

Then, after a beat, Jiung reached for the console and turned on some music, filling the quiet with a soft melody. You exhaled, relaxing a little. But then, as you subtly glanced at him from the corner of your eye, a new problem presented itself.

Jiung looked… insanely attractive when driving.

The way his hands gripped the steering wheel, the faint glow of the dashboard lights reflecting off his skin, the relaxed expression on his face as he focused on the road - it was almost too much.

You swallowed, quickly looking away. This is fine. Just act normal.

But no matter how hard you tried, the thought wouldn’t leave your head.

The rest of the drive to your apartment had been quiet, aside from the soft hum of the music playing through the speakers. You spent most of the time overthinking, stealing glances at Jiung while trying to act normal.

But somehow, you had survived.

As Jiung pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex, he slowed to a stop. You exhaled, feeling a mix of relief and disappointment. Relief because you finally made it home without embarrassing yourself, but disappointment because you didn’t want the night to end just yet.

You turned to Jiung with a small smile. “Thanks for the ride.”

He nodded, lips quirking up slightly. “Anytime.”

You reached for the car door handle, ready to step out - but then, a thought hit you.

This was it. Your chance.

You had spent so long admiring Jiung from a distance, always feeling like there was some invisible barrier between you two. But now, after everything that had happened today, the breakfast, the movies, the car ride, you felt closer to him than ever. If you didn’t take this opportunity now… would you ever get another one?

Your heart pounded. Before you could talk yourself out of it, the words left your mouth.

"Do you maybe… wanna come up?"

The second you said it, regret hit you like a truck.

Why did you say that?!

Jiung was probably going to turn you down, politely decline, and you’d have to live with the embarrassment for the rest of your life. You braced yourself, already planning how you’d laugh it off and pretend you weren’t dying inside. But then-

“I’d love to.”

Your breath caught. You turned to him, eyes wide, expecting him to be joking. But Jiung just looked at you, completely serious. He wanted to come up.

You quickly nodded, trying to ignore the way your pulse was racing. “O-okay. Cool. Yeah. Let’s go.”

Jiung smirked slightly, unbuckling his seatbelt.

As you both stepped out of the car and walked toward your building, one thought consumed your mind. What the hell did you just get yourself into?

The moment you stepped inside your apartment, a strange, heavy tension filled the air. Jiung followed behind you, his presence impossible to ignore. You set your things down, pretending to be busy while trying to calm your racing heart.

Jiung leaned casually against the wall, watching you with a small smirk, as if he could tell just how nervous you were. Then, his voice cut through the silence. "So… why did you invite me up?"

You froze.

Your breath hitched as you turned to look at him, caught completely off guard. "I- uh- I just thought maybe you wanted to, you know… chill a bit more before heading home."

Jiung raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Oh?" He tilted his head slightly, taking a slow step closer. "And why do you think I agreed to come up?"

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the way he was looking at you. There was a small pause, the tension between you both thick enough to drown in.

Then, finally, Jiung spoke again. "Well… if I'm being honest… I wanted to spend some time alone with you."

Your mind went blank.

What.

Did he just-?

You stared at him, trying to process his words, but your brain refused to function. Jiung could sense your nervousness, and instead of backing off, he only made it worse. He took another step forward, closing the space between you. His voice dropped slightly, teasing yet soft. "Isn’t that what you wanted too?"

Your head snapped up, eyes locking with his. Your throat went dry. Your heart was pounding. You tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat before you finally stammered out, “Y-y-yes.”

Jiung’s lips curved into a soft smile, and before you could even react, he reached out and gently took your hand in his. "You don’t need to be nervous," he murmured. His thumb brushed lightly over the back of your hand, sending shivers down your spine.

But how could you not be nervous? Jiung was this close, his touch was this gentle, his gaze was this intense. How were you supposed to survive this moment without completely falling apart?

Jiung’s thumb brushed over the back of your hand again, his grip gentle but so distracting. You felt like you were standing on the edge of a cliff, the air thick with something undeniable.

“I have to admit something,” Jiung said, his voice smooth yet laced with amusement.

You blinked, still trying to get your heart rate under control. “W-what?”

He leaned in slightly, the teasing glint in his eyes unmistakable. “Keeho and Intak told me about what you said at the club.”

The world stopped.

Your entire body went stiff. Your face felt like it had been set on fire. The ground beneath you? Gone. The last shred of your dignity? Disintegrated.

Jiung knew.

He knew what you had said about him. That you found him hot. That you wanted him.

Your brain screamed at you to run, to somehow escape this nightmare, but your body betrayed you, completely frozen in place.

Jiung tilted his head, watching your reaction with pure amusement. “You’re really quiet all of a sudden.”

You snapped out of your panic just long enough to stumble over an apology. “I- I’m so sorry, I was just really drunk, and I didn’t know what I was saying, and I-”

Jiung’s expression shifted slightly. His eyebrows furrowed, and his grip on your hand tightened just a little. “So you didn’t actually mean what you said?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

Crap.

You had meant it. Every. Single. Word. But how were you supposed to admit that to his face? You could barely even breathe properly around him, and now he was expecting you to just… say it? You scrambled for an answer, but before you could even attempt to dig yourself out of the hole you were in, Jiung let out a small sigh.

“Well, too bad.”

Your breath hitched.

Jiung’s gaze locked onto yours, and with the most casual expression in the world, he added, “Because I was just about to tell you that I feel the same way about you.”

What. The. Hell.

Your brain short-circuited. Your mouth fell open, but nothing - absolutely nothing - came out.

He felt the same way? Since when?! You couldn’t process it. Couldn’t even react properly. All you could do was stare at him in complete shock, your heart threatening to explode. Jiung, on the other hand? He looked so smug. So completely amused by your flustered reaction. And you? You were absolutely doomed.

Jiung chuckled softly, his smug expression only making your flustered state worse. "You should say something," he teased, tilting his head slightly.

But you couldn’t. Your brain had completely shut down, your words tangled up somewhere between your rapidly beating heart and the overwhelming realization that Jiung liked you back. "I-" you swallowed, struggling to find the right words. "I don’t know what to say."

Jiung let out a small hum, his amusement only growing. "That’s cute."

Your face burned even hotter, and Jiung, clearly enjoying how easy it was to tease you, decided to push a little further.

"So?" He leaned in just a fraction closer. "Are you going to admit it?"

You bit your lip, your fingers curling into your palms. He wasn’t going to let this go. He was waiting - waiting for you to say it out loud. And god, you wanted to deny it, to keep holding onto whatever tiny bit of composure you had left, but the way he was looking at you, the way your heart was racing just being near him.

You inhaled sharply before finally muttering, “I- I like you.”

Jiung’s smirk widened. "See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?"

You glared at him, your face still burning, but before you could come up with a response, Jiung's tone suddenly shifted, just slightly. "Since we’re being honest…" He let his fingers brush against your wrist, his touch light but deliberate. "I’d be down so bad to have a little fun with you."

Your breath hitched.

Jiung watched you carefully, his expression playful but also sincere. "But only if you wanted to of course," he added. "I don’t want to push you."

You knew what he meant. And the thought alone sent your entire nervous system into overdrive.

"I-" You opened your mouth, then immediately closed it, panic creeping in. "I don’t… I don’t know how to do that."

Jiung’s eyebrows furrowed slightly. "Do what?"

You hesitated before forcing yourself to say it.

"Get intimate with someone?"

His lips parted in surprise, and for a second, you thought he had misunderstood what you meant. But then you quickly shook your head. "No! I mean- that’s not what I meant."

Jiung tilted his head, now genuinely curious. “Then what do you mean?”

You exhaled, forcing yourself to meet his gaze. "I mean… intimacy without commitment."

Jiung’s expression shifted slightly, his usual playful smirk replaced by something more serious. He studied you for a moment, his gaze searching, as if trying to figure out exactly what you meant by that.

The silence between you felt heavier now. Not awkward, but weighted, like you had just opened a door neither of you had ever stepped through before. And for the first time all night, Jiung didn’t immediately have a teasing remark ready. Instead, he simply watched you, waiting for you to say more. Waiting to see where this was going to go.

Jiung was silent for a moment, his gaze locked onto yours, as if carefully considering what you had just said.

"Intimacy without commitment."

His fingers, still lightly brushing against your wrist, suddenly traced a little higher, barely grazing your forearm. The touch was subtle, almost innocent but not quite.

"You don’t know how to do that?" he murmured, voice low and laced with something undeniably teasing.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Jiung tilted his head slightly, studying your reaction. "So… does that mean you’ve never done it? Or just that you don’t know if you could?"

Your throat went dry. He was testing you, pushing just a little to see how much you could take. "I just-" You swallowed, trying to keep your thoughts straight. "I don’t know how to… separate it. How to be close to someone without getting-"

Jiung took another step forward, closing the space between you inch by inch. "Attached?" he finished for you.

You nodded slowly, pulse hammering in your ears.

He hummed softly, his fingers trailing down your wrist before finally pulling away. The loss of contact made you exhale, only to realize that now his entire focus was on you.

"So if I were to touch you like this…" Jiung reached up, his knuckles barely grazing your jawline as he tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His touch was gentle, featherlight, but your entire body reacted to it like a live wire. "Would it be too much?"

Your breath hitched. Was it?

You didn’t move away. You didn’t even flinch. But the way his fingertips lingered near your skin, the way his voice dripped with curiosity and amusement, it made it so much harder to think straight.

Jiung let his fingers trail down, brushing the side of your neck so deliberately that it sent a shiver down your spine. "Too much?" he asked again, his voice barely above a whisper.

You should say yes.

You really should. But instead, you just whispered, "No."

Jiung’s lips quirked up into a small, knowing smirk. "Interesting."

His hand dropped back to his side, but the electricity of his touch still lingered on your skin. You barely had a second to process what just happened before Jiung leaned in just enough for his breath to tickle your ear. "So, if there were no feelings involved," he murmured, voice dangerously soft, "you think you could handle this?"

Your heart nearly gave out. Jiung was testing you, pushing just enough to see how far you were willing to go. And the worst part? You weren’t sure if you even wanted him to stop.

The air felt thick, every breath you took weighed down by the lingering touch of Jiung’s fingers against your skin. You barely had a second to react before he suddenly reached for your hand. His grip was firm yet unbelievably gentle, and without a word, he guided you across the room toward the couch in your living room. Your pulse skyrocketed.

Jiung didn’t hesitate. He led you to sit down, his movements slow, deliberate, like he was savoring the way your body tensed under his touch. Then, without warning, he knelt down in front of you. Your heart stopped.

Jiung was right there, at your feet, his hands resting casually on his knees as he looked up at you with that same infuriatingly smug expression. The sight alone was almost too much. Too intimate. Too dangerous.

"You’re nervous," he mused, tilting his head. His voice was soft, but the teasing lilt in it was impossible to ignore.

You swallowed hard, gripping the fabric of your borrowed clothes. "I- I’m not."

Jiung’s lips curved into a smirk. "Liar."

Your face burned.

Then, slowly, he lifted his hand and rested it lightly on your knee. Not firm, not insistent, just enough for you to feel it. "Tell me," he murmured, his fingers tracing slow, lazy circles against your leg. "How far do you think you could go without catching feelings?"

Your entire brain shut down. The way he was looking at you - his dark eyes filled with pure amusement, like he was enjoying every second of watching you unravel - was enough to completely wreck you.

"I-" You swallowed again, your thoughts barely stringing together. "I don’t know."

Jiung hummed, pretending to think. Then, with excruciating slowness, he leaned in closer, his face inches from yours now, his breath warm against your skin. "Should we find out?"

Your stomach flipped.

Jiung’s hand, still resting on your knee, squeezed ever so slightly, just enough to send a spark of heat straight through you. He was testing you again. And you were seconds away from breaking. The air between you was thick, suffocating in the best and worst ways. Jiung’s presence, his touch, his words, had you balanced on a razor’s edge, and you had no idea how much longer you could hold yourself together.

Then, he dropped the bomb.

"How about we start off by getting rid of Keeho’s clothes?" Jiung murmured, his voice smooth yet playful. "It’s kinda distracting me."

You froze.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Your brain struggled to process what he had just said. "W-what?" you finally managed, looking at him in pure shock.

Jiung let out a soft laugh, clearly amused by your reaction. "Okay, okay. I’ll start first."

And then, before you could even fully react, he reached for the hem of his hoodie and pulled it over his head in one smooth motion

You stopped breathing.

The fabric landed somewhere across the room, but you couldn’t care less. Because now, Jiung was kneeling in front of you, shirtless, his toned chest and sculpted shoulders fully on display. His hands - warm, gentle, deliberate - rested lightly on your thighs again, his fingers barely brushing against the fabric of Keeho’s sweatpants.

That was it. The breaking point.

Your pulse skyrocketed, your entire body burning under his touch.

Jiung tilted his head slightly, his expression a mix of amusement and something deeper. His gaze never left yours, watching every tiny reaction you gave him. He was still teasing you, but carefully.

"You good?" he murmured, his fingers tracing small circles against your leg.

You swallowed hard, nodding way too quickly. "Y-yeah."

Jiung smirked. "If you don’t want something, stop me, alright?"

You barely had the chance to process his words before your body reacted on its own.

"Don’t stop."

The words left your mouth before you could even think about them, barely above a whisper, but Jiung heard them loud and clear. His smirk deepened.

"You like when I tease you like this?" he asked, his voice lower, smoother, almost testing you again.

Your body betrayed you, a tiny, involuntary shiver running down your spine. Jiung’s hands squeezed just slightly against your thighs, his touch light but firm enough to send another wave of heat through you. Your lips parted, your breath shaky, as you stared at him, completely spellbound.

Jiung chuckled, leaning in just a little closer, his bare skin impossibly warm. "Very interesting," he murmured.

And just like that, he had you completely in the palm of his hand. He knew exactly what he was doing. The way he watched you, his gaze intense yet playful, made it impossible to think straight.

You barely had time to process the next wave of teasing before Jiung’s hands slid up just slightly, his thumbs grazing the sensitive skin where your thighs met your hips. His touch was featherlight, but it sent a shiver straight through you. Your breath hitched. Jiung noticed.

And that was when his teasing stopped - just for a second. His smirk softened, his grip on you easing as he looked up at you through his lashes. Then, his voice dropped into something quieter, something almost hesitant.

"Can I…?"

You barely had time to process the question before Jiung slowly, so achingly slowly, leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. Your entire body froze. Then melted.

His lips were warm, soft, and so deliberate, like he was giving you time to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. You couldn’t. Jiung took your lack of resistance as an answer, his hands shifting slightly, still firm, still keeping you grounded, but now… closer.

The kiss was slow, teasing in the way he barely applied pressure at first, like he wanted to see just how much you wanted him before giving you more. And god, you wanted more.

When he finally pulled back just an inch, his breath still lingering against your lips, he tilted his head and smirked. "You’re shaking," he murmured.

You were. And you had absolutely no idea how you were supposed to recover from this. And you couldn’t take it anymore. Before he could pull away completely, you closed the distance, crashing your lips back onto his. Jiung let out a small sound of surprise, but it quickly melted into something deeper, something more certain. His hands gripped your thighs a little tighter, his body tensing slightly as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

You needed more.

Jiung felt it too.

Because without warning, he stood up from the floor, his hands never leaving you, and slowly pushed you down onto the sofa. Your back met the cushions, and before you could even process what was happening, Jiung was hovering over you, his body perfectly aligned with yours.

This time, the kiss was different. It wasn’t teasing anymore. It was hungry. Intense. Like neither of you wanted to hold back any longer. Jiung’s lips moved against yours with purpose, his hand sliding up to rest at the side of your face, his thumb brushing lightly against your jaw.

You let out a small, shaky breath as his weight pressed slightly into you, grounding you beneath him. It was overwhelming - his warmth, his touch, the way his fingers gripped the fabric of Keeho’s borrowed shirt like he was seconds away from pulling it off of you. Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging slightly, and that was when Jiung let out a low, satisfied hum against your lips.

"Eager, huh?" he murmured against your mouth, his tone dripping with amusement.

You barely had time to feel embarrassed because the next thing you knew, Jiung’s lips left yours only to trail lower, pressing soft, lingering kisses along your jawline, down to the side of your neck. Your breath hitched, your fingers tightening against his shoulders.

Jiung chuckled at your reaction, his voice low and warm. "I knew you liked it when I teased you."

And honestly? You couldn’t even deny it anymore.

Jiung’s lips moved against your skin with a deliberate slowness, as if he wanted to memorize every reaction you gave him. The warmth of his breath against your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the way he smiled against you, completely aware of how much he was affecting you.

Then, his fingers grazed the hem of your borrowed shirt. He pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his dark eyes filled with something intense yet undeniably gentle. His hands rested at the edge of the fabric, waiting. "Can I?" he asked softly, his voice lower now, more serious.

Your chest tightened, not from nerves, but from the weight of the moment. Jiung, for all his teasing and confidence, was still giving you control. He wanted this, but only if you did too. You nodded. That was all he needed. With excruciating slowness, he lifted the fabric, his fingers grazing your skin as he pulled it over your head and tossed it somewhere behind him. The way his gaze darkened as he took you in made your heart skip a beat.

His hands traced a slow path down your sides, his fingers barely pressing into your skin, just enough to leave a trail of heat in their wake. "You look so good," Jiung murmured, his voice laced with something deeper, something real.

Your breath hitched as he leaned back down, his lips brushing over your collarbone, lingering, before he kissed lower. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t hurried. It was slow, deliberate, like he wanted to take his time with you. Like he wanted you to feel everything.

Your fingers instinctively threaded through his hair, holding onto him as his lips pressed soft, mellow kisses along your skin, his hands mapping out every inch of you with an unbearable gentleness. It was intoxicating - the way he touched you, the way he worshipped every reaction you gave him, like he was savoring it.

"Still doing okay?" he murmured between kisses, his voice breathless but completely focused on you.

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for him.

Jiung pulled back just enough to study your face, his fingertips trailing lightly over your waist, his expression softer now. "I mean it," he murmured. "I need you to tell me."

Your heart squeezed at his words, at the way he made you feel like you were the only thing that mattered in this moment. You exhaled, your fingers tightening slightly against his shoulders. "I’m okay," you whispered.

Jiung smiled, really smiled, before pressing another kiss to your lips. "Good," he murmured against your mouth. And just like that, he pulled you right back under with him.

Jiung's lips were everywhere - soft, warm, deliberate as they trailed across your skin, leaving a path of heat and electricity in their wake. His fingers followed, tracing along your waist, your ribs, mapping out every inch of exposed skin like he was trying to memorize you. The slow drag of his touch sent shivers down your spine, and you knew - he was doing this on purpose.

Jiung pulled back just slightly, his breath warm against your skin. His dark eyes flickered up to yours, and the way he looked at you, like he was taking his time, like he was savoring this moment, made your stomach flip.

"You’re so easy to tease," he murmured, his lips curling into a small, knowing smirk.

Your face burned, and you let out a shaky breath. "Jiung-"

He shushed you, pressing a soft kiss to the edge of your jaw before whispering, "I like hearing the way you say my name."

Your fingers curled into the fabric of the couch, your entire body reacting to him in ways you couldn’t control. Jiung chuckled, obviously pleased with himself, his hands slowly traced down your belly, his eyes never leaving yours. You could feel your heart racing as he reached for the hem of your borrowed pants, his fingers brushing against your soft skin as he began to pull them down. You lifted your hips off the couch, helping him as he slid them down your legs and tossed them aside.

You were left laying there in just your panties, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps as you carefully watched Jiung. He ran his hands over your thighs gently, his hands exploring further, taking in every inch of you. His teasing sent your mind into overdrive and you could feel yourself growing more and more aroused by the second, throbbing with need.

"You’re really not stopping me," he murmured, his voice quieter now, less playful, more real.

You swallowed hard, your hands moving instinctively to pull him closer.

"I don’t want you to stop," you whispered.

Jiung could see the anticipation in your eyes, the way your breath hitched every time his hand moved lower. With a smirk, he slipped his hand between your thighs, his fingers finding the damp fabric of your panties.

"You're so tense," he teased, tilting his head. His fingers danced over your panties, barely touching yet setting your nerves on fire. "Relax for me."

Relax? How were you supposed to relax when he was doing this?

Jiung’s hands continued their slow descent, his lips hovering dangerously close to yours but never quite closing the distance. You could feel his smirk against your skin.

"You can still stop me anytime," he reminded you, voice softer now, gentler, as if he wanted you to know that you were still in control.

But stopping was the last thing on your mind. You weren’t sure when it had happened, when your hesitation had started to fade, when the tension had become something you actually wanted to lean into instead of shy away from. Jiung saw it. Felt it.

And that was why, without warning, he tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"Tell me how much you want this," he murmured, his lips barely an inch from yours.

It was a challenge. A test. And god, the way he looked at you, like he was daring you to admit it, made your whole body heat up. Your lips parted, your breath shaky.

Jiung waited.

And then, finally, you gave in.

"I want this… so fucking bad." Your voice came out softer than you expected, but it was honest.

Jiung smirked at your response, his eyes glinting with mischief. ''Oh, I know you do,'' he said, his voice dripping with confidence. ''But I'm going to make you wait for it.''

You bit your bottom lip, feeling another rush of arousal flood your panties at his words. You couldn't help but squirm as Jiung's body hovered just above yours, the heat radiating off of him, and you wanted nothing more than to feel his skin against yours.

Jiung leaned forward, his breath hot against your skin as he placed a gentle kiss on your bare chest. You shivered, hips bucking up towards him as you let out a low moan. You could feel his smile against your skin as he began to tease you once more, his fingers tracing lazy circles over the fabric of your panties.

''Please Jiung,'' you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. ''I need more.''

Jiung chuckled, his fingers continuing to tease you as he looked up at you. ''Patience y/n,'' he said, his voice low and husky. ''I'm going to make this so good for you.''

Before you could respond, he slipped his fingers under the edge of your panties, teasing you with the barest of touch. You let out another low moan, as you felt his fingers brush against your wet folds.

You gasped, your back arching as Jiung's fingers began to explore. He teased you under the fabric, his touch light and taunting, as his thumb began to draw small circles over your sensitive spot. The heat between your legs grew more intense with each passing second. His fingers danced over your skin, before he finally - finally - pushed two of them inside you slowly.

You barely had time to breathe before he started pumping them gently inside of you, making you feel a desire you had never experienced before. Jiung continued pressing soft, lingering kisses along your collarbone, down your shoulder, each one making your pulse race even faster.

That's when he paused, glancing up at you, making you whine at the sudden stop of his movement.

"You’re really letting me do whatever I want, huh?" Jiung murmured, his smirk deepening.

You bit your lip, your breath shaky. "Maybe."

"Dangerous answer," Jiung chuckled, shifting just a little closer, his fingers curling up just a little inside of you. "Still no complaints?"

You couldn’t complain. Not when he was looking at you like that. Not when his hand made you feel like your entire body was on fire. His lips found your neck again, his fingers moving just a little faster inside of you now and just like that, you were completely lost in him. You felt yourself growing more and more desperate, letting out sharp gasps as your body shivered slightly.

"Sensitive, huh?" He smirked against your skin, pressing a kiss just below your jawline before whispering, "I like that."

You swallowed hard, gripping the fabric of the couch beneath you. "Jiung-"

He hummed, acting completely unbothered, even as his hands explored new territory - testing, pushing, waiting to see how much you’d let him get away with.

''Please,' you whimpered, your voice full of need. ''I need to cum.''

For a moment it seemed like he finally gave in to your begging, his fingers diving deep inside of you as he moved them with a fierce urgency. You let out a load moan, as you felt yourself spiraling out of control.

Just as you felt an orgasm building up inside of you, Jiung pulled his fingers away, leaving you panting and desperate for more. You frowned, your body aching for release.

Jiung simply chuckled, his eyes filled with mischief. ''I'm not gonna let you have all the fun to yourself,'' he said, his voice low. His lips hovered over yours, so close yet still refusing to fully close the distance. "You said you wanted this," he murmured, his voice smooth and knowing.

You swallowed hard. "I do."

Jiung tilted his head, his hands slowly dragging lower. "Then how much do you trust me?"

The question sent another wave of heat through you. Your body reacted first, shifting instinctively closer to him. Your fingers tightened around his bare shoulders, the warmth of his skin under your touch making your head spin.

Jiung chuckled at your silence. "That much, huh?"

Then, with deliberate ease, he reached for the waistband of his sweatpants, tugging them down along with his boxers, kicking them off completely.

You gasped at the sight of Jiung being fully exposed to you now.

Jiung noticed.

"You’re staring," he teased, smirking as he settled back between your legs, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your panties.

Your stomach flipped as he toyed with the waistband, giving you plenty of time to stop him. You should’ve been embarrassed. Maybe even hesitant. But the truth was, you had already let him push you this far, and stopping now… stopping now felt impossible. So, instead of answering, you lifted your hips slightly, wordlessly giving him permission.

Jiung’s gaze darkened. And with excruciating slowness, he hooked his fingers into the waistband and slid your panties down, leaving you completely vulnerable beneath him. He took his time, his eyes dragging over you, admiring every inch of skin he uncovered. Then, finally, he exhaled.

"God," he muttered, shaking his head slightly, his fingers pressing into your hips. "You have no idea how good you look right now."

Your face burned. Before you could response, Jiung reached for his sweatpants again and pulled a silver wrapper out of its pocket. Once he wrapped it over his length he hovered over you, steadying himself between your legs. His hands remained firm on your waist, grounding you, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.

But just when you were about to completely melt into him, he pulled back slightly, his gaze meeting yours, his smirk softening just a little. "Still doing okay?"

You smiled, nodding. "Yeah."

Jiung studied you for a moment, as if making sure, before leaning down and pressing another kiss to your lips - slow, deep, filled with something more than just teasing. Something undeniable.

"Tell me what you want," he whispered against your ear.

Your stomach flipped at his words, heat pooling in your chest as Jiung’s hands resumed their slow exploration. His fingertips skimmed over your skin in featherlight touches, never lingering too long in one place - just enough to drive you insane.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your fingers tightening in his hair as you exhaled shakily. "Jiung… please, just-"

That was all he needed.

His grip on you tightened, his body pressing closer, his breath mixing with yours as he finally let himself fully sink into you. You moaned softly, your body stretching to accommodate him. Jiung moved slowly at first, his thrusts gentle and controlled and you could feel every inch of him, the sensation overwhelming. Instinctively, you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him deeper.

Jiung groaned, feeling his control slipping. He began to thrust harder, his movements becoming more frantic. You met him thrust for thrust, your nails digging into his back. You could feel yourself getting closer, the heat between the both of you building. Jiung's thrusts became erratic, his body shaking with effort. Your bodies intertwined, the tension grew as you moved together, your rhythm syncing perfectly.

This had started as a game - slow, teasing, meant to test you, to push you just far enough without completely unraveling you.

But now… now it was different.

Jiung had finally given in and now, neither of you wanted to stop.

His lips moved against yours with a new kind of urgency, a quiet hunger that wasn’t just about teasing anymore - it was about you. About this moment. About finally letting himself want you the way he had been holding back from all night.

Jiung, who had spent the entire night pushing you to the edge, was now fully lost in you too. You felt it. In the way his fingers curled into your waist, in the way his body pressed against yours, in the way his breath hitched slightly when your nails digged into his back, pulling him closer.

The playful remarks - they were gone now, replaced by something deeper, more raw. Because this wasn’t just about testing boundaries anymore. This was about crossing them together.

His forehead rested against yours for a moment as he caught his breath, his fingers still tracing slow, absentminded patterns against your skin, like he needed to memorize the feeling of you beneath him.

When he finally pulled back enough to look at you, his expression had changed.

"You’re really letting me have you like this," he murmured, his voice lower now, softer, almost as if he was still processing it himself.

You moaned softly, nodding. "I am."

Jiung exhaled, his fingers tightening slightly against your skin before he leaned down again, this time, pressing a kiss that was slow, deep, meaningful.

Not just teasing.

Not just desire.

But something more.

And neither of you ever wanted it to end.

Jiung could feel you getting closer, how your body tightening around him. He knew you were on the edge, and he was determined to send you over. With a final, deep thrust, he whispered your name against your ear. Your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm crashed over you like a wave, your body arching off the couch. A soft moan escaped your lips, barely audible, yet electrifying. The sensation was like nothing you had ever felt before.

Jiung watched you carefully, his own release following quickly, as his thrusts slowed down and became more sloppy. With a raspy, whimpered moan, his orgasm finally washed over him. His body trembled above you, as he buried his face in your neck.

The room was quiet now, the only sounds filling the space were the soft, uneven breaths you and Jiung shared. The tension that had been so thick between you all night had finally unraveled, leaving nothing but the warmth of him against you.

Jiung collapsed on top of you, his body heavy yet comforting, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. His head rested against your chest, his damp hair tickling your skin, his warmth completely surrounding you.

You exhaled slowly, your fingers gliding gently down his back, tracing the lines of his shoulder blades, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under your touch. His skin was warm, slightly damp from the heat between you, and you could feel the way his heartbeat slowly began to steady against yours.

Neither of you spoke.

There was no need to.

Jiung let out a soft sigh against your skin, his fingers tracing absentminded patterns along your waist. You wondered what he was thinking, if he was feeling the same overwhelming mix of emotions crashing into you all at once.

You stayed like that for a little while, wrapped up in the warmth of each other, neither of you in a hurry to move, to break the fragile moment that had settled between you.

But eventually, Jiung stirred.

He lifted his head, his dark eyes meeting yours, something soft, unreadable flickering behind them.

His arms tensed slightly as he pulled himself up, his hands resting beside your body, caging you in without feeling overpowering. He studied your face for a moment, his lips slightly parted, like he wanted to say something but wasn’t sure how.

And for the first time tonight, he looked hesitant.

You weren’t used to seeing Jiung like this - the ever-confident, ever-teasing Jiung now looking at you with something uncertain, almost vulnerable in his gaze. As he hovered over you, his arms still bracing him on either side of your body, his dark eyes locked onto yours. There was something different in his gaze now - softer, yet just as intense as before.

Then, after a beat of silence, his lips curled into a slow smirk.

"That was amazing," he murmured, his voice low and slightly breathless. His eyes scanned your face, taking in every little detail - your flushed cheeks, your dazed expression, the way you were still trying to catch your breath.

His smirk deepened.

"You looked really good just now," he added, his tone so effortlessly teasing that it made heat rise to your face all over again.

Your stomach flipped, and you immediately covered your face with your hands, groaning. "Jiung, stop."

He laughed, the sound soft yet filled with amusement. "What? It’s true," he said, nudging your hands away so he could see you again. His fingers lightly traced your wrist, his touch still gentle, still lingering. "You should’ve seen yourself."

You could barely handle the way he was looking at you. Smug, teasing, but still incredibly fond.

"Jiung-" you tried to protest, but he was relentless.

He leaned down, his bare chest pressing against yours, his lips ghosting over your ear.

"Shy now?" he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "You weren’t so shy a few minutes ago."

Your entire body burned at his words.

"You’re insufferable," you muttered, attempting to turn your head away. But Jiung only grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek before pulling back just enough to see your reaction.

"Maybe," he mused, tilting his head, his fingers now tracing lazy circles on your waist. "But you like that about me, don’t you?"

Your heart skipped a beat.

And the worst part?

You did.

But there was no way you were going to admit that out loud.

So instead, you huffed, looking away. "I liked you better when you weren’t talking."

Jiung chuckled. "Liar."

His hands skimmed up your sides, slow and deliberate, sending another shiver through you. Your breath hitched - a small reaction, but one Jiung caught immediately.

His smirk widened.

"Oh?" he teased, watching you closely. "Do you want me to stop talking then? Or do you want me to-"

"Jiung!" you cut him off, your voice higher than you intended.

He laughed again, the warmth in his expression making it impossible to be mad at him.

Jiung leaned down one more time, pressing a soft, lingering kiss against your forehead before pulling back.

"Relax," he murmured, his tone finally softening. "I’m just messing with you."

You exhaled slowly, your heart still pounding, your emotions still all over the place. Jiung was back to teasing you like nothing had changed - but something had. His gaze flickered over your face, thoughtful, before he spoke again.

"So…" he murmured, voice low, teasing but curious. "How do you like the idea of intimacy without commitment?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in conversation. Jiung didn’t look away, his fingers lazily tracing over your waist, waiting for your answer. You took a moment to think.

After everything that had happened tonight - the teasing, the tension, the way he had pushed your boundaries yet still made you feel completely safe - you realized… You liked this. You liked him. And maybe, just maybe, you could get used to this.

A small smile tugged at your lips as you exhaled slowly. "I think… I could do this more often."

Jiung’s smirk widened.

"Really?" he mused, tilting his head slightly. His fingers pressed into your waist just a little more, his touch still slow and deliberate.

You nodded, watching his reaction carefully.

Jiung let out a low chuckle, his gaze darkening slightly. "Good," he murmured. "Because I’d be down for it too."

You giggled, unable to help the warmth that spread through you at his words. He smirked, clearly enjoying how flustered you were, before grabbing your wrists and pinning them down for a second, just to tease you more.

"Am I making you shy again?" he grinned, hovering closer.

"Maybe," you muttered, biting back a smile.

Jiung just chuckled, releasing your hands, his fingers lightly brushing over your wrist before finally pulling away. Then, after a moment of silence, he spoke again, this time, his voice softer, more curious.

"What do you think about me staying over tonight?"

Your breath hitched.

"You want to?" you asked, searching his face for any hint of hesitation.

Jiung’s lips curled into a lazy, knowing smile as he leaned back down, his mouth barely an inch from yours.

"I mean… the night’s still young," he murmured, his voice sending a shiver down your spine. Then, with pure confidence, he added, "and we were just getting started."

Jiung’s words hung in the air between you, thick with meaning, his smirk never faltering as he watched your reaction. Your stomach flipped, your fingers still curled slightly against his arms, your body responding before your mind could even catch up.

You should have hesitated. Should have questioned what this meant, what you were getting yourself into. But the way Jiung was looking at you, his dark eyes filled with amusement, his bare chest still lightly pressed against yours, his breath warm against your lips, it was impossible to think about anything else.

So instead, you exhaled, a small smile pulling at your lips.

"Then stay," you whispered.

Jiung’s smirk widened.

"Yeah?" he teased, watching you carefully. "You sure?"

You nodded, your voice more certain this time. "I want you to."

His gaze flickered, something unreadable flashing behind his eyes before he leaned down again, kissing you slowly, deeply, like he had been waiting for you to say that. His hands slid down your sides again, reclaiming the space between you, his touch both teasing and deliberate.

"You’re gonna have to keep up with me, then," he murmured between kisses, his tone light but challenging, his smirk pressing against your lips.

You giggled softly, your fingers tracing over his shoulders. "Oh? Think I can’t handle you?"

Jiung chuckled, shaking his head. "I just know how easy it is to make you fall apart beneath me."

Your face burned, and Jiung grinned when he noticed.

"You’re doing it again," he teased, tapping your chin lightly, his expression smug.

"Doing what?" you muttered, looking away.

Jiung tilted your chin back toward him, his thumb brushing over your jawline.

"Looking at me like you want me to ruin you."

You gasped, shoving at his chest, but he just laughed, his head tilting back slightly in amusement.

"You’re impossible," you mumbled, biting back a smile.

"And yet, you’re still letting me stay," Jiung mused, trailing soft, lazy kisses along your jaw, his touch slow, unhurried, like he wanted to take his time with you all over again.

Your fingers curled into his hair, pulling him closer, your heartbeat pounding against his.

And in that moment, with Jiung hovering over you, his hands exploring your skin like he had all the time in the world, you realized…

The night really was just getting started.