#anton lee

your boyfriend is the kind of guy who loves to use your boobs as a pillow, nearly making them spill out of your shirt with how much he snuggles his face to them because he needs the skin to skin contact. anton's a goner when you bring one of your hands to the back of his head to play with his hair while the other caresses his bare back, needy whines coming from his mouth as he shifts on top of you. you can feel something pressing against the soft insides of your right thigh and it doesn't take long until anton starts humping his semi hard cock on you, his breath coming out shallow—which leads to his open mouth getting drool all over your shirt and breasts while his grip on your hip tightens to hold you in place.

"oh, fuck– oh, baby... mhm, you feel so fucking good," he barely manages to let the words out with how much he's moaning, the friction on his sensitive dick, the soft skin of your boobs under his cheek and the way your nails scratch his scalp just right, pulling his hair every so often when he grinds too hard onto you... it's all too much. anton feels like he could cum from just this, but he can't. he won't.

though his right arm stays under you to keep you place, his left hand hastily moves to your shirt, his actions nearly aggressive as he pulls it down and guides your nipple to his mouth. you giggle at how eager anton always gets when he wants to have you in his mouth, but it's quickly suppressed by a heavy sigh when you feel anton's tongue licking the underside of your boob before sucking on your nipple as if expecting something to come out, already feeling yourself getting wet from his ministrations. he keeps his hand on your right breast to angle it towards his mouth as he refuses to lift his head from your left one, all while he still humps your thigh, albeit more clumsily now.

you hiss when he pulls back from your boob after a particularly hard suck, and the cold air hitting your spit slicked nipple makes it even harder, much to anton's delight. "need you in my mouth all the time, fuck," he moans, this time lifting his head so he can lick the entirety of your breast before starting to suck on your nipple again. he moves so he's sitting back on his haunches, placing your legs on either side of his waist before pulling the other side of your shirt so both your tits are out.

the first few times anton fucked you, he always went straight to your boobs first, which led you to try and take off your shirt to make things easier for him. depending on the day, he either would either whine or groan, but anton never let you take if off during foreplay—in his sick, perverted mind, he gets off so bad on seeing you all fucked out under him, the wetness oozing out of your pussy staining your panties and your tits pressed together, all bitten and slick with his spit, spilling out of your shirt in a tight fit. anton groans at the sight, "my baby looks so fucking good for me... i love you so much, you're so fucking pretty."

you grab anton by his hair again, a loud moan coming out of his mouth as you pull him towards you. anton barely has time to place his forearm next to your head to brace himself before your lips are on his, kissing him sloppily just the way he likes. in this position, he can hump your pussy instead of your thigh, and that's exactly what he does. anton angles his hips so his hard cock can grind on your neglected clit, all while you're kissing the air out of him and his free hand plays with your boob, lightly squeezing it and pulling on your pebbled nipple. when you pull back, you can feel anton's dick twitch against your pussy and inside his pajama shorts as he watches the string of saliva that still connects your mouths, licking it before pressing another wet, fat kiss on your lips.

anton doesn't waste time getting back to your tits, though, pressing both of them together before alternating between licking and sucking each of them. you let out whiny moans, needing some stimulation on your slick, empty cunt again, so you use your legs that are still wrapped around his waist to pull anton closer to where you need, making his dick perfectly grind against your clit. you keep using your legs to basically get him to fuck you through your clothes, making the two of you whiny messes, letting out loud moans you're sure your neighbors are hearing.

you can feel anton lose his focus on your tits due to how good you're making his dick feel. he stopped sucking on your nipples to just having his open mouth around one of them as he moans uncontrollably, his spit leaking out of his mouth and making its way under your shirt. when anton feels like he's getting too close to cumming, he grips your hips so fucking tight to stop you it makes you whine. he moves to kiss you messily again, your tongues sliding against each other in a way that makes your pussy clench around nothing. he's breathless as he says against your lips "baby, please, let me fuck this pussy. god, fuck. wanna fuck you so bad, i love your fucking pussy." anton can feel his sanity slipping even further when you let out an airy laugh and say "yeah? you wanna put your big cock inside me? you need it, baby?"

anton nods eagerly, his hold on your hips getting impossibly tighter as he tries to stop himself from grinding down on you, knowing he's too close to cumming inside his shorts. "i need it so much, baby, your pussy feels so fucking good on my cock. best pussy i've ever fucked, please!" as much as you love having a man like anton—big, hot, insanely handsome—nearly crying as he begs to fuck you, you feel like you're two seconds away from absolutely losing it if you don't impale yourself on his dick. you push his shoulder slightly to get him off of you, telling him "sit up, baby" when he whines, thinking you're gonna leave him like this. when he sees you pulling your panties down, his eyes glint with a newfound desperation as he quickly discards his pajama shorts, moaning when the cool air hits his cock that's been drooling with precum from the moment you put your hands on his hair.

it takes all your might to focus on just telling anton to rest his back against the headboard and not lean down to put that perfect, twitching fat dick of his inside your mouth. you lick your lips as if you could already feel the taste of his skin and precum on your tongue, but you unfortunately have more pressing matters at the moment. as you lift one leg to straddle anton's lap, his left hand immediately finds your waist, finally tugging on the hem of your shirt to take it off of you. anton then pulls you flush against his chest as his other hand holds the base of his dick to slide his slick head against your folds, making you both sigh needily. before you can cuss him out for taking too long, he pushes your hips down in one swift motion, forcing a loud whine out of your throat as you feel your pussy get completely stuffed from his big cock.

"fuck, toni, that's it" you moan you set a quick pace on his dick, exerting yourself to the max as you need to almost stand completely on your knees so you can ride the entirety of anton's length before sliding back down. even if riding your boyfriend is tiring, you keep letting out high pitched whines every time you bottom out, feeling high off the way he makes you feel so fucking full. anton, on the other hand, feels his dick get even harder from how warm and tight your walls feel sliding against him, the wet sound of your ass hitting his thigh making you both delirious. what really gets him going, though, is hearing you whimper when his hands on your hips slightly shift your position so his fat tip nudges the deepest parts of your pussy. one of anton's moves from your hip to curl around the hair at the back of your head, tugging on it just enough for it to sting a little as he pulls your face closer to his. his tongue wastes no time diving into your mouth as soon as your lips touch, sliding against yours in a rapid but sensual rhythm that had you both moaning into each other's mouths. when anton pulls back, he leans away only enough for him to be able to whisper against your lips "i swear to god this pussy was made to take my dick. i love it so much," making you whine as you felt yourself gushing and clenching even more around him.

anton feels like he could seriously detach himself from how good you're making his dick feel and cum solely from watching you rolling your eyes back due to the almost painful pleasure you're feeling. the way your boobs move up and down, in tandem with your movements on his cock, feel downright hypnotic—he only realizes he had been staring at them with an open mouth like a freak when your hand slides up from his shoulder towards his face, using your index finger on his chin to make him look you in the eyes while your thumb cleaned the saliva that had drooled from his mouth as he was gawking at you. you then slowly move your thumb from the corner of his lips and into his awaiting mouth, feeling yourself smirk as anton closes his eyes and moans around your finger, feeling you slow down your pace until you're grinding down on him instead.

when anton opens his eyes again, he barely looks into your eyes before his gaze drops to your boobs again, squeezing your waist tightly. he mumbles something around your thumb and you pull it out of his mouth to let him speak. anton lets out a raspy and hushed "need them in my mouth so damn bad," before he plants both his feet on the mattress and slides down on it so he's now lying on his back. you position your hand flat beside his face to support yourself as you playfully roll your eyes, letting out a breathy laugh while you caress his soft cheek with your free hand, saying "you're such a perv." anton laughs too, but he quickly masks it with an exaggerated pout. he pushes the side of his face further against your palm like a needy cat as he blinks up at you before he brings his hand to yours, holding it so he can press a kiss to your palm without breaking eye contact. when anton brings his hand back to your waist, he says "i just love you too much, baby. could worship you all day..."

that seals the deal for you. you can't spend another second feeling him twitching impatiently inside you, so you just decide to give the man what he wants—you lean down so you're supporting yourself on your forearm instead of your palm and use your free hand to guide one of your breasts towards anton's parted lips, the corner of his eyes already lift up with happiness. the moment he latches onto your nipple, anton's hands slide down to your hips to hold you firmly as he starts to quickly thrust into you from below. you whine loudly from how hard and fast he's fucking you, just the way you like, and you use the hand from the arm supporting you to tug at his hair, trying not to let your body give up and fall on top of his. "toni," you whimper, pulling his hair harder to alleviate some of the immense pleasure you were feeling. "your dick feels too good– oh my god, it's too fucking good!"

anton moans around your tit when he feels you pulling on his hair, feeling himself getting close from all the stimulation—your filthy words ringing in his head, the pain on his scalp, your wet pussy clenching tightly around him and your nipple getting harder and harder against his tongue—so he moves one hand to find your clit, his fingers almost slipping past it from how wet you are. in the back of your mind, you think it's all too much much for him to be sucking your tit, fucking you that fast and now he's trying to stimulate your clit too, but the thought quickly slips from your mind when his fingers start rubbing it in fast up and down movements.

"fuck, fuck, fuck, toni, i'm cumming, plase don't stop!" you manage to say between loud moans, and anton lets your breast fall out of his mouth to groan "fuck, yeah. cum on my cock, baby, i wanna feel it." hearing those words is all that was left for you to finally reach your breaking point, opening your mouth in a silent moan as you feel yourself spasming on anton's dick.

when it's finally over, you're gasping for air as you let your body slump over anton's, feeling too weak to keep holding yourself up. you let out quiet little cries as anton keeps fucking you fast and steady, laughing deliriously between groans with how good he felt "you're amazing, baby, fuck. i'm gonna cum so fucking much inside you," he says as he uses the hand that was previously on your clit to hold your hair and keep it away from your neck so he could kiss it. you feel tears sliding down your face as anton's thrusts get impossibly faster, and he groans against your neck "oh, pretty girl, i love using your pussy so much– i'm gonna cum! i'm gonna cum so much inside you, okay? take it– fuck, take it all, please!"

you're not even registering his words anymore from how overstimulated you feel, just nodding along to whatever anton is saying and begging him to finish already—both because you're so tired and because you absolutely love when he cums inside, "please, toni! give me your cum, please, baby!" anton groans loudly, latching his mouth onto your neck before wrapping his arms around your waist to hold you flush against him, fucking a few more hard thrusts into you before he stalled, lifting his hips from the mattress with how hard he pushed into you. all you can do is sigh and sniff tiredly against anton's hair as you stop crying, your entire body trembling as you feel your pussy get even more stuffed, both from anton's big cock and his cum—which, as he promised, was a lot.

anton keeps holding you on top of him as you both calm down, waiting for your breaths and hearts to slow down and pressing reassuring kisses to your shoulder. when he feels like he can move again, anton gently pushes you away from him to lay you down on the mattress, chuckling when you groan in complaint as you feel his dick slide out of you and his load start to drip down your thighs. he gets on his haunches between your legs again, being careful to keep some distance between both your crotches are you're still sensitive.

you're still kind of out of it, your eyes closed, when your boyfriend leans down to press a chaste kiss against your lips, barely having the energy to kiss him back. anton proceeds to press kisses all over your cheeks, forehead, jaw and neck, mumbling against your skin "that was so good. you're so good to me, my love," making you smile and sigh happily. when you don't say anything back, anton pulls back to get a better look at you and says teasingly "what? i fucked you too good and now you can't speak, baby, is that it?"

you finally open your eyes to give a deadpan look to your boyfriend, saying begrudgingly "you're so annoying..." anton laughs, lightly pinching your side and making you flinch, "oh, so now you can speak?" you just roll eyes, barely stopping yourself from laughing too. he moves to lay beside you, pulling you close to him so your head is resting on his chest and his fingers are tracing shapes on your back.

anton has half a mind to grab tissues from his bedside table to clean you up when you distract him by asking "are we really gonna stay in bed?" you slightly lift your head from anton's chest to look at the time on anton's clock at said bedside table, letting your head fall back down as you comment "it's, like, way past noon. aren't you hungry?" you don't have to see it when you're able to hear the cheeky smile on anton's face as he says "babe, my mouth was full ten minutes ago. i'm doing great." you playfully push his body away from yours in mock exasperation, which gives anton the opening he needs to quickly lean down and give a quick suck to one of your nipples. you push him away again, laughing, "oh, my god! you're worse than a baby!"

anton just smiles up at you, moving up to kiss your lips before a smirk takes over his face. you feel one of his hand sneaking its way on the side of your body as he says "besides, even if i start feeling hungry, i have a full course meal waiting for me right here." before you can ask him what he means, anton's fingers find your pussy again, making your body twitch from sensitivity as they slide through your folds to gather the remnants of your slick and his cum. anton brings his now wet fingers to his mouth, groaning in delight at your combined taste.

he pulls his fingers out of his mouth with a pop, smiling deviously as he says "delicious." as you stare at him, you swear you feel yourself start getting wet again, so you pull anton towards you to kiss him hard, feeling his spit slicked hand hold your hip tightly as anton moves his body from his side to fit between your legs again. you speak against his lips "you're a freak."

"just for you," anton smiles before leaning down to kiss you again.

all you wanted to do was quietly use the bathroom and you decided to leave the light off to like… save energy. only to end up being scared out of your skin by one of anton’s late night companions.

“god, what the hell!” the girl jumped backwards, almost hitting her head on the doorframe as you reached to cover yourself. “who are you??”

you raised a brow. you knew who she could have been, but—

“girl, who are you?” you countered.

you knew damn well you should have kept your mouth shut, because you got called the fuck out. ‘well, anton didn’t say he had a girlfriend, are you his girlfriend? did i just wreck a home?’ uh.. no. ‘how come you weren’t here when we got back but you’re here now?’ uhh… ‘if you’re not his girl, and he has no roommates, why are you here in the middle of the night?’ … — deep down you knew you were the problem here.

unlike anton, you weren’t lucky enough to have parents who would pay for you to live in a nice little apartment for the entirety of college, so you lived with your two roommates; one of which was at the height of a lover’s quarrel with her partner. things had gotten so bad between them that the morning of this incident — or rather the morning before — seeing as it happened at around 2am, anton kindly agreed to let you come back to his place after you finished work, and spend the weekend there. and so, you weren’t there when anton and this poor girl got back to his apartment, because your shift ended about an hour after they had knocked each other out. you poor soul.

“why would you say that?” anton laughed at you, “you don’t live here.”

like you didn’t know that… asshole. you flopped down in one of the dining chairs, attempting to flip your half drank water bottle, at his kitchen table. and failing. “i just couldn’t stop myself from giving attitude. because, why are you trying to talk to me and i’m on the toilet… i needed her gone out the room.”

“well. she’s never gonna text me now.”

“no?” you rose a brow at him, “well, would you have responded?”

anton was notorious (within your two person friendship) for losing the numbers of girls that he slept with. that or somehow indirectly manifesting for them to lose his number, so he had no choice but to move on to the next. he didn’t see this as sleazy, fuckboy activity, however. he was simply just moving forwards through life. so in response to your question? anton just smiled back at you from where he was stood in the kitchenette. he didn’t know the answer. not for sure at least.

“you know she thought we were dating. she was so mad at you.”

his eyebrows shot up, “well, did you defend me?”

“i said i would never date you, and that i was visiting because of the thing with my roommate.” in a display of nonchalance, you pressed down on your baby hairs and just looked on at him.

“wow,” anton pushed up off the counter and took his bowl to the sink. “that’s sweet of you.”

“y’know.” you waited for him to turn back and face you. “if i was one of these girls, i would hate the both of us.”

“why?”

you looked towards the ceiling, as if to try and find the words to say. “well, i feel like i’m always here— like at your place. and we know almost everything about each other, i got a key to your house; we’re just, like, a little too close.”

“first of all, you’re not here enough—”

you shot him a glare and he threw his hands up in defence. “anton, do you not see the problem with that statement?”

anton pursed his lips in supposedly deep thought. “damn. i think you’ve been cockblocking me.”

the way your brain short-circuited hearing him say that— usually it was you cursing. never him. “you’ve been cockblocking yourself, toni.”

“no, but i’m being serious. the girl i brought home was not the first girl i talked to that night. that usually doesn’t happen.” anton came to sit by you at the table, putting a chair right next to yours but turning it the opposite direction so he could be facing you. subconsciously, you rest your feet on his thighs causing him to catch your ankles in his hands as you tried not to roll your eyes at possibly the most sleazy, frat boy coded statement you had ever heard.

“do you actually hear yourself sometimes? this is not the sweet toni i grew up with. you’re something else.”

“god, you’re right.” he laughed out. “i think all the attention is getting to my head.”

you leaned forward towards him, “oh, you think so?”

anton pushed your shoulder gently, “leave me alone, i’m coming to terms with it, i’m—” he struggled to find the word, “i’m self-reflecting.”

and then he paused. “does our friendship get you any less romantic attention?”

“hmm.” you had to think about it. though anton claims not to be a fuckboy intentionally — or what you liked to call a ‘self-proclaimed pussy magnet’ — you knew yourself that you weren’t as… sexually outgoing (?) as anton. “no less than i had before, i guess. people that know you, know about our weird little friendship and then; you poor thing, you have to talk to two girls before you can get laid. but the people that know just me don’t necessarily know about our weird little friendship.”

“huh.”

“‘cause i’m not trying to be like one of those girls that tells everyone about, ‘my homeboy this, my homeboy that’ and then everyone assumes we’re fucking and i cant even defend myself.”

anton tried to ignore his face warming up, “no, yeah. hah, is that really a thing?” a thought was definitely being formed.

“yes, bro, even i cringe at it. i don’t wanna be that girl.”

“wait so, some of these guys, these friends, are actually like, sleeping with each other?” anton scratched the back of his neck, that was prickling with nerves.

“i mean, yeah, probably. the way they act.” you just laughed obliviously while anton’s mind started to fill up with ideas. like, say, if you were the kind of person who talked to others about your friendship with anton. would people think you’re so close that you might as well just.. be with each other? would people accuse you of sleeping together or dating even if you weren’t?

“yo, imagine if that was us…”

your head jolted in his direction and pure confusion painted your features in an incredulous expression, “anton, can you not… oh my god.”

his head dropped in laughter. as well as defeat.

but you missed that, so you continued. “no, that would be horrible. why would you even put that in my head?”

“so, i’m actually right here.” anton waved his hand at you and you laughed.

“no, no,” rushing to defend yourself, “not in a mean way, i just. i wouldn’t like the attention from people and, yeah, no. i don’t know.”

“yeah, okay. i get that.”

“why do you ask anyway? what would you think if it was us?” you prodded back. you would never let him ask such a stressful question without getting him back. you needed to get even.

“oh.” anton was starting to think he should have never tried it with you. however. you getting that nervous from his initial asking the question gave him a slither of confidence. “i mean. i think that it would be interesting. it’d be kinda cool to see if we could get to know each other any more than we already do.”

“in what sense?”

“like sex stuff.” anton’s voice was soft and quiet. “like what you’re into, stuff like that.”

“wouldn’t you like to know, chanyoung.”

he smiled at you, squinting in acknowledgement of your teasing “i would. tell me something.”

you gave it some thought before replying, “are you serious?”

he replied, “are you?”

you weren’t entirely sure what that meant, but you took at as a case of ‘i am if you are, and if you’re not, neither am i.’

“okay, anton. it’s 9 in the morning, but sure uh.. i like a submissive man.”

the tips of anton’s ears grew hot. “oh, wow. tell me more.”

you laughed in his face. because no way these are the lines he uses when he’s picking up girls every other night. this was going to be the most embarrassing conversation you had ever had. like, ever. you crossed your legs over each other, still over anton’s thighs.

“there’s nothing more to that statement really. your turn.”

“i like… kissing. but not just normal kissing like.. kissing.” he dragged the word out a little, really putting umph on it like you were gonna know exactly what he was talking about. you were so annoyed.

“be so for real for a second.”

“what?!”

you sighed. “no, cause i really got a lot from that, thank you. now, i wish i’d kept quiet.”

“what, no! i’m just bad at explaining things.” you tried to retract your legs from anton’s and he grabbed your calf in attempts to stop you from curling in on yourself out of pure embarrassment.

you covered your face. “yeah, really bad.”

“listen, i could show you better than i can tell you.”

“i bet you could, toni, but that’s not gonna turn back time.” you immediately shot him down. before you realised. “wait okay, you can show me.”

“oh, i didn’t think you’d agree. i thought the idea of getting intimate with me was horrible?”

“i mean that’s if people are aware of it and like… try to talk to me about it at school. right now, nobody knows. so i guess it’s less horrible.”

“alright, c’mere.” anton held out his hand for you to lean into, taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours. gently pecking your lips a couple times before ghosting the tip of his tongue along your bottom lip, asking for permission. he ran the pad of his thumb over your bottom lip before pulling away just slightly to whisper, “can you open up a little?”

you furrowed your brows up at him and he took that as confusion, laughing a little “i wanna put my tongue there.”

you parted your lips a little and he kissed you with tongue, making the both of you sigh quietly. with each movement of his jaw and of his lips against yours, his tongue made contact with yours and it triggered a build of warmth in your lower abdomen. each time his tongue licked into your mouth, it pulled a whine out of the back of your throat. your hands rose up into his hair and your breathing started to quicken. at this point, even though you were feeling significantly warmer than you did a few seconds ago, you still didn’t realise what made this any different from ‘regular’ kissing. you figured anton was just being dramatic. that was until he sucked your tongue into his mouth along with your bottom lip. this made you straight up moan — you had to pull away.

“holy shit, anton.”

anton wiped the saliva off of his plush lips with his thumb. “see it’s like kissing but it’s kissing.”

“what the hell.” you huffed out in a deep exhale, twisting a curl around one of your fingers. you didn’t even know what to do with yourself after that.

anton tried to stop his eyes from dropping down to your heaving chest in the tight baby tee you were wearing as pajamas. he wanted to remain composed after putting the moves on you; maintain his shy, yet simultaneously confident demeanour. and then he remembered what you mentioned earlier. anton softened his voice ever so slightly. —if that was even possible.

“you know, you’re a really good kisser.” he held eye contact with you and the delivery of his sentence immediately made you wet.

“um, thank you.”

anton leaned closer to you, keeping his voice hushed despite the fact that you were the only two people in the apartment. “i didn’t expect it to, but kissing you made me really hard.”

“shit, really?” you were overwhelmed. you had just been kissed breathless by your best friend and now he was laying his truths all out on the table.

“i know you feel a type of way about it, but… i wanna fuck you."

“anton…”

“please,” you felt his thumbs rub you from both sides of your hips that he was now holding in his hands. he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth that made your eyes flutter closed. “i know it would feel so good.”

“toni, when you ask me like that—“

“you like that?” anton practically purred before attaching his soft lips to the curve of your neck. his hand slid down the front of your pajama pants to start rubbing you over your panties at a torturingly slow pace. “when i beg you like that? i know you do, you’re soaked.”

“fuck, toni…” you grabbed onto his shoulder for balance, lifting one of your knees higher to grant him a better angle at rubbing those tight circles over your bundle of nerves.

“hey, look at me.” he rubbed your clit faster, “can i make you cum before i fuck this pussy? huh? please?”

you could only lean back and moan in response.

“come on you gotta tell me. can i please?”

“mm-hm. yes, yes, baby.”

you dug your nails into his bicep and he groaned. “can i get i kiss, too?”

in a low whine, you pressed your lips to his, moaning into his mouth as you started getting closer to orgasm.

“yeah, moan for me just like that, baby. that’s so fucking hot. you gonna cum for me?”

you nodded at him and he continued with the same relentless pace of his fingers against your clothed clit until your hips started to shake with your orgasm.

“fuck, you’re so sexy when you cum for me. you gonna let me fuck you, mama?”

you were breathless in shock. in all your years of being friends with this anton, he had never talked so nasty.

anton swiftly lifted you onto the table and yanked your pajama pants down with your panties. with big, soft hands, he kneaded your thighs, “you’re dripping in front of me.”

“well, i just came.”

this made anton laugh, “well, i’m gonna make you cum again. ‘kay?”

you nodded as he pulled his dick out of his basketball shorts and started to jerk himself off, rubbing his tip against your slit. you went to hold onto his back with one hand and he took this as a sign that you were ready for him. pushing into you slowly, he muffled his own moan against your lips.

somehow, after only just put his dick in you, he was already a mess. “mmh, fuck you feel good. you feel so good around me.”

anton’s arms wrapped under your thighs, and started bringing your hips to meet his faster.

“fuck, toni, right there!”

he moaned into a sloppy kiss to your lips, “mm, right there? ‘m i hitting it right?”

“yes, keep going. you’re doing so good..”

anton didn’t change his position, only moving one of his hands to start rubbing your clit again. “fuck, keep talking to me like that.”

you held his neck to pull him closer to you, “you’re so good. and you look so pretty when you’re fucking me.”

all of your praise was going straight to anton’s dick. he was visibly finding it increasingly harder to keep himself together. he leaned forward to get closer to you, grinding his hips into yours. peppering kisses all over your bare chest.

“ah- uhm, i wanna cum. wanna cum for you.” anton’s voice was barely above a whisper as he rambled against your chest, sucking one of your nipples into his mouth to mumble his pathetic sounds. although, to no avail, he was still mumbling to you, teeth grazing the skin.

“you can cum toni, i’m close too.”

“you gotta cum first, baby,” what a gentleman. “if you cum first that’s gonna make me c-cum.” anton whined flicking his tongue against one of your nipples as if to punctuate, “ugh, please.”

maybe about 30 more seconds of anton’s desperate whimpering pushed you over the edge. and you didn’t want to dwell to much on why this was, but it was surely one of the most pleasurable orgasms you had ever had. and the irregular clenching of your pussy around his dick was completely it for him. he pulled out of you cautiously and instead of jerking himself to completion all over your naked body, he was reduced to grinding against your wet pussy, panting and sighing until his own orgasm washed over him.

“shit, anton are you crying?” you cradled his face, wiping away a stray tear with your thumb. he couldn’t even reply — he was inside of you, but you fucked the shit out of him.

“i’m a fuckin’ mess. i think we might have some built up tension or something.” anton got up from where he was leant against your chest. he pulled his shorts up and flopped down into a dining chair, dropping his head down onto one of your thighs where your legs were hanging off the table.

you shifted from your position of sitting up on your elbows to laying your back flat on the kitchen table. “don’t even say that.”

“okay.”

the two of you sat in your silence. it was comfortable silence for you, you hoped it was for him too.

without moving from where he was laid on your thigh, anton’s hand tapped against your leg to grab your attention. “so was that horrible for you, or?”

you could only laugh. “shut the fuck up, anton.”

The harsh fluorescent lights of the concrete parking garage buzzed overhead, cars were packed bumper to bumper on every level, trunks popped open, music bleeding from portable speakers. The air was thick with the smell of exhaust, alcohol, and the distant, muffled thud of bass vibrating from the stadium a few blocks away.

“Hold still, you’re going to mess up the gems,” Yunjin scolded lightly. She pressed a final iridescent rhinestone near the corner of your eye, using the rearview mirror of Shotaro’s SUV as a makeshift vanity. Stepping back, she admired her handiwork. “Okay. You look devastating. If you don’t ruin at least one man’s life tonight, I’m revoking your rave privileges.”

She pulled out her silver digi cam, the flash blinding you for a second as she snapped a picture of your makeup. Then she squeezed in next to you, pressing her cheek against yours, and held the camera out at arm’s length. The flash went off twice—one normal, one with both of you mid-laugh because Sunoo yelled something stupid from across the trunk.

You laughed, adjusting the straps of your top. You’d gone all out tonight: a black mesh set that hugged every curve, layered under a harness. Your arms were stacked with kandi bracelets, the plastic beads clinking together as you reached for the plastic cup resting on the bumper.

“She’s not ruining anyone’s life, she’s going to be too busy trying not to pass out before the opener finishes,” Sunoo chimed in, appearing at your side. He passed a joint to Yunjin before handing you a plastic cup filled with a mix of peach soju and Yakult. His own face was dusted in silver glitter. “Pace yourself. You just took a shot and hit that twice.”

You rolled your eyes, taking a sip. The alcohol burned pleasantly down your throat, mixing with the warm, heavy buzz of the weed already settling in your limbs.

It wasn’t your first rave, but you were definitely the more casual raver of the group. While Shotaro and Sohee hit festivals almost every other weekend, you usually only tagged along here and there when you had time. Tonight was the final stop of the Illenium and Dabin tour, and it was your first time seeing either of them live. The group chat has been hyped for months.

“Are we moving or what?” Sohee yelled, bouncing on his heels near the concrete stairwell. He and Shotaro were already halfway to the exit, looking back at you three with impatient grins. “We’re going to miss Dabin’s intro!”

“We’re coming!” you shouted back, downing the rest of your drink. You tossed the cup into a nearby trash can, linking arms with Yunjin and Sunoo as you hurried to catch up.

The walk to the festival grounds was a blur of neon outfits, pulsing lasers bleeding into the night sky, and thousands of people vibrating with the same collective anticipation. The alcohol was definitely hitting you now. The edges of your vision were soft, your limbs felt light, and the heavy dubstep echoing from the main stage made your heart race.

You followed Shotaro as he navigated your group through the dense crowd. He was a seasoned raver, weaving through the sea of bodies with practiced ease, his hand firmly gripping Sohee’s backpack so they wouldn’t get separated. You kept one hand on Sunoo’s shoulder as you pushed deeper into the crowd, aiming for a spot just behind the VIP rail.

“We’re meeting a friend of mine here!” Shotaro yelled over his shoulder, his voice barely cutting through the music. “He saved us a spot!”

You finally broke through a particularly dense wall of people, stumbling slightly as the alcohol made your platform boots feel a little heavier than usual. You bumped into a solid wall of a chest, letting out a small gasp.

Large hands immediately caught your shoulders, steadying you before you could fall.

“Careful,” a deep, yet soft voice rumbled above you.

You looked up, and your breath hitched.

Standing there, towering over the rest of the crowd, was a guy who looked like he had been carved out of marble specifically to ruin your life. He was ridiculously tall, with broad shoulders showcased perfectly by a black, sleeveless muscle tank. A silver chain rested against his collarbone, catching the strobe lights. His dark hair was slightly messy, falling into his eyes in a way that looked effortlessly perfect.

Shotaro crashed into him with a massive hug, clapping him on the back. “You actually held the spot! You’re a legend.”

The guy laughed. His voice was a rich, warm rumble that you could feel in your chest even over the heavy bass. He hadn’t let go of your shoulders yet.

Shotaro pulled back and gestured to your group. “Guys, this is Anton. We play soccer together. Anton, this is Sohee, Sunoo, Yunjin, and…” Shotaro’s eyes landed on you, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “…and this is my favorite person, but don’t tell the others.”

Anton’s gaze shifted down to you. The moment his dark eyes locked onto yours, the rest of the festival seemed to fade into background noise. He looked you up and down, a slow, deliberate sweep that took in the platform boots, the mesh, the harness, and the few gems around your eyes. When his eyes finally met yours again, a slow smile spread across his face.

“Hi,” he said, his hands finally dropping from your shoulders. Up close, he smelled like expensive cologne and clean laundry, a sharp contrast to the sweat and smoke of the crowd.

“Hi,” you breathed back, suddenly hyper-aware of how much skin you were showing, and how warm your cheeks felt from the vodka.

“Okay, group photo before we lose each other!” Yunjin interrupted, pulling out her silver digi cam. She shoved it into Anton’s hands since he was the tallest. “Take one of us?”

Anton chuckled, taking the small camera. He took a step back, crouching slightly to frame you and Yunjin as she threw an arm around your waist. Right before he pressed the button, his eyes flicked up from the screen, catching yours over the top of the camera for a beat too long. The flash went off, blinding you for a second, but you could still feel the weight of his stare. He handed the camera back to Yunjin before turning his attention fully back to you.

“First time seeing Illenium?” he asked, leaning down slightly so you could hear him over the music.

“First time seeing him, yeah,” you admitted, having to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. The size difference between you was staggering. He was a wall of solid muscle, his presence completely enveloping you. “Not my first rave, but… I don’t go as often as the other guys.”

“I can tell,” Anton murmured, his eyes dropping to your lips for a fraction of a second before flicking back up. He tilted his head, studying your flushed face. “You pregamed a little hard, didn’t you?”

You blinked, feeling caught. “Is it that obvious?”

“Just a little,” he chuckled, the sound low and incredibly attractive. “Stick close to me. The crowd gets rough when the headliners come on, we don’t want you getting trampled.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. As Dabin took the stage and the crowd surged forward, Anton naturally positioned himself just behind you. He didn’t touch you, but you could feel the heat radiating off his chest, a solid, protective barrier between you and the crushing weight of the thousands of people pushing from behind.

The set was incredible, but about thirty minutes in, the combination of the heavy bass, the flashing strobe lights, and the alcohol you had downed in the parking garage started to catch up with you. The air in the middle of the crowd was stiflingly hot. You swayed slightly, pressing a hand to your forehead as a wave of dizziness washed over you.

Instantly, Anton’s hands were on your waist. “Hey. You okay?”

You leaned back against his chest instinctively, closing your eyes. “Just… a little dizzy. It’s really hot.”

“Alright, come here,” Anton said smoothly. He didn’t ask Shotaro or the others. He just wrapped an arm securely around your waist and gently but firmly guided you out of the thickest part of the crowd, moving toward the slightly more open space near the back rail.

He found a spot where the air was cooler and the bodies weren’t pressed so tightly together. He turned you around to face him, his hands resting on your hips. “Better?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled, opening your eyes. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Anton said softly. He reached into his small crossbody bag and pulled out an unopened bottle of water, twisting the cap off before handing it to you. “Drink this. Slowly.”

You took it, sipping the cool water gratefully. Anton stood in front of you, blocking you from the chaotic flow of people walking by. He reached up, using his large hand to gently fan your face, the cool breeze feeling heavenly against your flushed skin. He was so attentive, his dark eyes watching you carefully to make sure the color was returning to your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you murmured, looking up at him.

“Anytime,” he replied, his thumb brushing lightly against your waist. “You feeling sober enough to go back in, or do you want to stay back here for a bit?”

“I’m okay now,” you smiled, the dizziness fading into a pleasant, manageable buzz.

When you moved back to your group, the dynamic had shifted. Anton kept one hand resting lightly on the small of your back the entire time, instead of just standing behind you. Every time the crowd shoved forward, his grip would tighten, pulling you flush against his chest to protect you from the impact. The touch was respectful, but it sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core every single time.

Halfway through Illenium’s set, the music slowed, the heavy bass fading into a soft, melodic acoustic intro. The crowd roared in recognition as the opening chords of “Hearts on Fire” echoed through the stadium.

“You want to see better?” Anton’s voice rumbled right next to your ear, his breath hot against your neck.

You turned your head, your face inches from his. “What?”

“Get on my shoulders,” he offered, a playful glint in his eyes. “You can’t see the visuals from down here.”

Before you could protest, Anton crouched down slightly, tapping his broad shoulders. “Come on. I got you.”

You hesitated for a second, then grabbed his hands to steady yourself. You swung one leg over his shoulder, then the other, and the first thing you noticed was how wide he was. Your thighs barely fit around the span of his shoulders. Then he stood up, lifting you with effortless strength like you weighed nothing. You could feel the muscles in his shoulders and neck shift and tighten beneath your thighs as he adjusted you, his traps solid and warm under the thin fabric of his tank top.

The view was breathtaking. The entire festival grounds stretched out before you, a massive ocean of people swaying in unison under a canopy of lasers. But as incredible as the view was, all you could focus on was the feeling of Anton beneath you.

Your thighs were pressed flush against his neck, his large hands gripping the backs of your thighs to keep you steady. His fingers dug slightly into your skin, a firm, possessive grip that made your breath catch. You could feel every shift of his broad shoulders between your legs—the way they rolled when he adjusted his stance, the hard muscle flexing under your weight like it was nothing.

The beat dropped, a massive, euphoric explosion of sound and light. Confetti cannons erupted, raining colorful paper down on the crowd. You threw your hands up, completely consumed by the music and the adrenaline. Anton’s hands tightened on your thighs, his thumbs stroking the sensitive skin just below your skirt, and a sharp spike of heat coiled low in your belly.

When the song ended, he slowly lowered you back down to the ground. You slid down his chest, your body pressing flush against his for a long second before your boots hit the grass.

You were breathless as you looked up at him “Thank you.”

Anton didn’t step back. He stayed exactly where he was, so close you could feel the rise and fall of his chest. His eyes dropped to your lips again, and this time, they stayed there.

The tension between you was thick, pulling you toward him like a magnet. You wanted him to kiss you. You wanted it so badly your skin ached with it.

“Hey!” Sohee’s voice shattered the moment, and you both jumped slightly as he threw an arm around Anton’s shoulders. “We’re going to grab water before the finale. You guys want anything?”

Anton cleared his throat, taking a small step back, though his eyes never left yours. “We’re good. We’ll hold the spot.”

The rest of the night was a blur of heavy bass, blinding lights, and the suffocating tension between you and Anton. You traded kandi with him during a quiet moment, teaching him the PLUR handshake. When your fingers interlocked with his, he held on for a second too long, his thumb tracing the back of your hand. He gave you a bracelet that said RAVE HEAD, and you gave him one that said YOURS. You had made it as a joke, but when he read the beads, his eyes darkened, and he slipped it onto his wrist without a word.

By the time the final fireworks went off and the festival lights came up, you were exhausted. Your ears were ringing, your feet ached, and the adrenaline crash was hitting you hard.

The walk out of the venue was a chaotic mass of thousands of people trying to leave at once. The crisp night air felt amazing against your sweat-slicked skin, but you couldn’t stop a shiver from running down your spine.

Without a word, Anton pulled his black zip-up hoodie out of his backpack and draped it over your shoulders. It was massive on you, swallowing you completely, and it smelled exactly like him.

“Okay,” Shotaro announced as your group huddled near the rideshare pickup zone. “There’s an afterparty at this warehouse downtown. Sohee knows the DJ. We’re all going.”

You groaned internally, leaning your head against Yunjin’s shoulder. “Taro, I love you, but if I hear one more bass drop tonight, my brain is going to liquefy. I’m so tired.”

“You can’t tap out now!” Sunoo protested, though he looked sympathetically at your exhausted expression.

Anton looked down at you, his eyes assessing. He could see the fatigue pulling at your features, the way you were practically holding yourself up with Yunjin’s help.

“My hotel is three blocks from here,” Anton said quietly, addressing Shotaro but looking at you. “I’m not really feeling the afterparty either. I can take her back with me. Let her crash there, and you guys can go.”

Shotaro looked between the two of you, that same knowing smirk returning to his face. “You sure, man? We don’t want to impose.”

“It’s fine,” Anton said, his voice steady. He looked down at you, his dark eyes intense. “If she wants to.”

You pulled the oversized hoodie tighter around yourself, your heart hammering against your ribs. You weren’t drunk anymore, but you were definitely not feeling like going to the after party.

“Yeah,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I want to.”

Yunjin gave you a look that screamed we are talking about this tomorrow in excruciating detail, before hugging you goodbye. You waved to the rest of the group as they piled into a rideshare, leaving you and Anton standing alone on the crowded sidewalk.

“Come on,” Anton said softly, his large hand wrapping around yours. His fingers intertwined with yours perfectly, his grip warm and solid. “Let’s get out of here.”

—

The walk to his hotel was quiet, the ringing in your ears making the city sounds feel muffled. He kept you tucked close to his side, his thumb tracing slow, rhythmic circles over the back of your hand.

His hotel was upscale, the lobby quiet and dimly lit. You rode the elevator up to the fifteenth floor in silence, watching the numbers tick up.

Anton unlocked the door to his room and pushed it open, stepping aside to let you in first. The room was dark, illuminated only by the city lights filtering in through the large window.

The heavy door clicked shut behind him, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet room.

You turned around to face him, but before you could even open your mouth, Anton was there.

He didn’t hesitate. He backed you up against the door, his large hands coming up to cup your face, and crashed his mouth down onto yours.

It was everything that had been building up since the moment you locked eyes in the crowd. You gasped into his mouth, your hands flying up to grip the front of his tank top as his tongue slid past your lips, tasting you like he had been starving for it all night.

“God,” he groaned against your mouth, his hands sliding down from your face to grip your waist, pulling you flush against his massive frame. “I’ve been wanting to do that since the second I saw you.”

You breathed, tilting your head back as his lips trailed down your jaw to the sensitive skin of your neck. “Don’t stop.”

Anton let out a low, ragged sound. He grabbed the hem of his tank top, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. The sight of him made your breath hitch. He was huge. Broad, thick, and carved with heavy, defined muscle, his skin glowing in the dim light of the city.

He reached for the zipper of your skirt, his large hands making quick work of your rave outfit. The mesh, the harness, the boots—everything was discarded until you were completely bare, standing against the door.

He dropped to his knees right there in the entryway.

Your breath caught in your throat as his large hands gripped the backs of your thighs, pulling your legs slightly apart. He looked up at you, his dark eyes blown wide with lust, the city light catching the sharp angles of his face.

“Anton—” you gasped, your fingers tangling in his dark hair.

“Shh,” he murmured, his breath hot against your center. “Let me taste you.”

He didn’t wait for an answer. He pressed his mouth against you, his tongue swiping in a broad stroke that made your knees buckle. You cried out, head falling back against the door. He was relentless, his large hands gripping your thighs tight enough to bruise, holding you in place as he devoured you.

“So fucking sweet,” he hummed against your slick folds, the vibration sending a jolt straight to your clit. He sucked hard, his tongue flicking with a precision that had you sobbing his name.

“Anton—please—” you babbled, fingers gripping his hair as your hips jerked forward.

He pulled away right before you tipped over the edge, leaving you whining. He stood up, massive frame towering over you, lips slick with your wetness.

Anton led you toward the bed, shedding the rest of his clothes in seconds. He didn’t lay you down. He sat back on his heels, grabbed your hips, and pulled you forward until you straddled his lap.

The size difference was staggering. Sitting on him, you felt incredibly small, his broad chest and thick thighs dwarfing you.

“Ride me,” he whispered, eyes dark and hungry.

You guided his thick, heavy length to your entrance and slowly sank down. The stretch was overwhelming. He was so big you had to stop halfway, a broken whimper tearing from your throat.

“Fuck,” Anton groaned, jaw clenched tight. His hands steadied your hips. “Take your time. You’re so tight.”

You took a shaky breath and forced yourself down the rest of the way. When you finally bottomed out, a loud, shameless moan ripped from your lips. You were completely full, the pressure making your vision blur.

Anton’s hands moved from your hips to rest flat against your lower stomach. His eyes widened.

“Look,” he commanded softly.

You opened your eyes. His large hand was pressed right over the faint, visible press of him against your lower bellythe subtle outline of how deep he was inside you.

“Hmm,” he breathed, thumb tracing the slight bulge. “You take me so well.”

You started to move, lifting and sinking at a slow, agonizing pace. The angle was incredibly deep, every downward thrust making you gasp. Anton watched with hunger, his hand staying firmly pressed against your stomach to feel every inch of himself filling you up.

After a few minutes, Anton let out a frustrated growl. He grabbed your hips and flipped you over in one fluid motion, pinning you face-down against the mattress.

Before you could process the change, he settled between your thighs, lifted your ass slightly, and drove into you from behind with a single, brutal thrust.

You screamed into the pillows. The angle was even deeper now, his broad chest pressing your back, his large hands gripping your hips like a vice.

“You feel so good,” he panted, pace turning frantic. He was relentless, hips snapping forward with bruising force, the wet slap of skin echoing loudly in the quiet room.

He reached around, his large hand sliding down your stomach to find your swollen clit. The moment his thumb pressed against it, your brain short-circuited.

“Anton—ah—wait—” Your voice cracked on a high, broken moan as he bottomed out inside you, thumb circling your clit simultaneously. “It’s too much—”

“You can take it,” he breathed against your ear, his voice thin, strained, almost whiny. “Fuck—you’re squeezing me so tight—” He let out a shaky, desperate sound against your neck. “Don’t stop.”

Your protests dissolved into loud, broken moans. He kept his pace hard and deep, each thrust dragging against oversensitive walls, pulling high, desperate sounds out of you.

“Oh my god—Anton—fuck—” You babbled, words slurring, fingers clawing the pillows. “I’m gonna—”

“Come for me,” he panted, voice breaking. His thumb pressed harder, hips stuttering as his breath came in ragged gasps. “Let me feel it. Come for me.”

You couldn’t hold back. The orgasm crashed into you—sharp, intense, ripping through you. You screamed his name, walls clamping down hard around him as your body convulsed.

The force dragged him over the edge. Anton let out a broken, wrecked cry against your shoulder, his whole body shuddering as he spilled deep inside you, hips jerking in shallow, desperate thrusts. He collapsed against your back, heavy, sweat-slicked body pinning you to the mattress, chest heaving.

Neither of you moved for a long time. Just the sound of ragged, uneven breathing filling the room, your bodies tangled together, both of you trembling.

He slowly pulled out of you, and before you could even process the emptiness, he was flipping you over onto your back. Your body was limp, boneless, and he moved you like you weighed nothing.

The sight of him above you knocked the air out of your lungs. His chest was flushed, his dark hair falling into his eyes, his lips swollen and parted. His broad shoulders blocked out the dim hotel light behind him, caging you in completely.

“Anton,” you whimpered, your thighs trembling around his waist. You were so sensitive it almost hurt. “I can’t—not yet—”

“Please,” he murmured, lowering himself until his forehead pressed against yours. Sliding his tip up and down your wet slit, and you felt him push back inside you—slow, agonizing. The stretch on your oversensitive walls made your eyes roll back, a broken moan dragging out of your throat.

“Oh—fuck—” Anton’s voice cracked the second he bottomed out, his whole body shuddering above you. His arms were trembling where they braced on either side of your head. “You feel so—god—” The words came out thin and strained, like he was barely holding himself together.

You gasped, your nails digging into his shoulders. Your hips bucked up against him involuntarily, and the friction made both of you moan.

He let out a shaky exhale that sounded more like a whimper. “Ngh—I’m not gonna last—”

He started to move anyway, slow and deep, his hips rolling into yours with a deliberate rhythm that had your back arching off the mattress. Every thrust dragged against your swollen walls, punching out sounds from your chest with every roll of his hips.

Your legs wrapped around his waist on instinct, pulling him deeper. A high, broken groan vibrated against your collarbone. “Fuck—baby—don’t do that—” His hips stuttered, his composure slipping. His voice pitched up at the end, needy and wrecked.

“Feels so good,” you whined, your head pressing back into the pillows. “So deep—Anton—ah” Your words dissolved into a trembling moan as he hit a spot inside you that made your vision blur.

You clenched around him on purpose. His forehead dropped to your shoulder, a choked whine spilling out of him as his hips jerked forward. “Please—” he gasped. “I’m trying to make this good for you and you’re—”

“It’s good,” you breathed, pulling his face up to yours. His eyes were glassy, his bottom lip bitten raw. “It’s so good.”

Something in him snapped. He hooked one hand under your knee, pressing your thigh up toward your chest, and the new angle made you scream. Your free hand flew to his back, nails raking down his spine. “Anton—I can’t— too much—” A sob cut off whatever you were going to say, your body arching off the bed.

His free hand found yours, lacing your fingers together and pinning your hand beside your head. He buried his face in your neck, broken moans muffled against your skin, your name slipping out of him over and over.

“Look at me,” he breathed, pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.

You forced your eyes open. His face was inches from yours, his pupils blown wide, his jaw tight, his lashes wet. He looked completely undone.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Stay with me.”

“I’m gonna—” you whimpered, your walls fluttering around him. “Anton—I’m so close—”

Every time he bottomed out, a small, helpless sound punched out of his chest. His breathing was ragged, punctuated by quiet, whiny gasps every time you clenched around him.

“I’m close,” he choked out, his hips losing their rhythm. His hand squeezed yours tight. “Baby—please—”

“I’m coming—” you cried, your voice shattering into a broken moan as your body seized around him.

He came with a sound you’d never forget. A raw, wrecked cry that cracked in the middle, his body shaking as his hips pressed flush against yours and stayed there. The feeling of him pulsing inside you, the desperate way he clung to you, his broken whimpers against your neck—it dragged you over the edge with him, your second orgasm ripping through you in slow, devastating waves.

Neither of you moved for a long time after. Just the sound of ragged, uneven breathing, his body still covering yours completely. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, and you could feel the wetness of his breath against your skin.

When it finally subsided, you were boneless. Completely spent.

Anton slowly rolled off you, pulling you flush against his side. He wrapped his strong arms around you, tucking your head under his chin. He pressed a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead, his hand tracing soothing circles over your bare arm.

“You’re staying the night,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep and satisfaction. It wasn’t a question.

You smiled against his chest, closing your eyes as the last of the adrenaline faded away. “Yeah.”

—

The next morning, sunlight was streaming through the sheer hotel curtains when you finally woke up. Anton was still asleep, his heavy arm draped securely over your waist, his face buried in your neck.

You carefully reached for your phone on the nightstand, wincing at the brightness of the screen. Your group chat was blowing up.

Shotaro: [Voice note: 0:25]

Yunjin: ????????????????

Yunjin: HELLO????

Sohee: lol

You smiled, typing out a quick I’m alive, tell you later before tossing the phone back down. You noticed Yunjin’s silver digi cam sitting on the nightstand. She must have slipped it into your bag before you left the venue.

Curious, you turned it on and clicked through the photos from last night. There was the one of you in the parking garage, the group photo Anton took, a blurry one of the stage, and then the one Yunjin had secretly taken of you on Anton’s shoulders.

“What are you looking at?” a rough, sleep-heavy voice mumbled against your skin.

You turned the camera off, sliding back down under the covers and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Nothing. Just pictures from yesterday.”

anton, the moment he grew fond of you, swore to himself that he would work harder than destiny. than the universe. than the whims of any god.

that man has been helplessly in love with you since day one. no one can change his mind.

anton is the most patient man to ever walk this earth.

he patiently waits for you when classes are finally over. you pace slower than him when walking together.

when you asked him to teach you some bass basics, and you were struggling, you never heard him hiss or groan in annoyance. it was new to you because you were used to hearing people complain when you were asking for nothing more than help.

anton is the gentlest soul. he was your classmate in high school, the quiet boy who was into music and sports. often carrying his cello and training bag, he would sometimes intentionally bump his things against your desk every morning just so you would notice him and greet him "good morning."

eventually, you became friends and bonded through silly conversations, trips to convenience stores, or random weekend study "dates."

by senior year, it was safe to say he was a close friend who obviously liked you. he wasn't even subtle, yet he remained remarkably nonchalant about it. (he didn't confess, but his actions were telling.)

anton never made you feel pressured to return his feelings. still, both of you stuck together like constant companions.

he was simply charming back then. he always accompanied you to the bus stop, a ten-minute walk from school.

being in love with you meant becoming a total loser for you. imagine him riding the bus, pretending to get off at a stop after yours just so he could linger with you a bit longer. in truth, he didn't even need transportation...he lived within walking distance of the school.

he noticed that you sometimes skipped lunch (to save money or sleep). so, he’d bring far too much food to share with you. he reasoned it as "bulking" for training whenever you asked why his meals were so proportionately large.

anton was always ecstatic whenever you asked him about music. whether it was an inquiry about instruments or what songs were trending, he’d geek out, genuinely pleased that you were interested in his world.

thus, he created a playlist of all his recommendations and shared it only with you. even his friends weren't allowed to listen to it; you were the only one with the link.

besides, he had a folder full of draft compositions, all inspired by you.

one time you mentioned liking a certain drink from the store, and the next thing you knew, it was a consistent sight on your desk every other day.

anton never stares directly at you for too long because he’s afraid his eyes will give him away.

instead, he became a master at watching you out of the corner of his eye. anton memorized the way you tie your hair or the specific sound your shoes make in the hallway.

but he's also incredibly attentive when you speak in class or tell him something you've discovered. you would become self-conscious because he would never break eye contact while you spoke.

anton swore he loved the idea of memorizing your features, yet he mastered the skill of grasping every word you yapped about despite being drowned in the beauty right in front of him.

often, he would look away instantly when he felt his nose burning with a pink flush.

you had to admit that your first love was memorable because it was anton.

...and you for anton.

as you grew older, it was a slow realization that you were just like anton—reserved and quiet. you shared so many interests and opinions, but the contrast was that you were too scared of love.

he was full of it, deserving and willing to give it all.

maybe he didn't deserve you. or rather, any part of your life that felt insecure when you let him in. his upbringing felt worlds apart from yours.

so, as romantic as it seemed, when anton confessed to you while the rain was pouring, you respectfully rejected him and bid him a final goodbye.

your world crushed as you saw his eyes, and how his expression showed he was trying so hard not to beg for answers.

"tell me you don't want me to leave, and i won't." it was hard to hear him, his soft voice clashing with the heavy rain. even if you tell him you don't want him to go, he is still fated to leave for his dreams.

of course, you didn't want anton to leave. he's the only person who sees through you, who genuinely cares for you, and totally understands you.

he was the only person you had.

but then again, your worlds were apart.

anton saw how you looked at him as if he were a stranger. you were the first to break eye contact, running away from him that night.

he stayed frozen there, standing in the middle of the park, drenched. all he could think about was you. he spent another thirty minutes alone in the rain, just in case you changed your mind and ran back.

when anton moved overseas to pursue his dream, you accepted the fact that your shared chapter had ended.

even though the only way you knew how to move forward with life was with him.

during college, you decided to distance yourself from everyone and start a new life. part of that meant leaving someone behind who wasn't there anymore.

anton, on the other side of the world, never stopped thinking about you. he tried asking your mutual friends how you were, but no information ever came back to him.

on your birthday, anton flew recklessly back home (without his parents' knowledge) just to gamble on the chance of seeing you after a year apart.

every year, he typed a "happy birthday" to your old number. he would stare at the blinking cursor, never moving past the drafted text.

anton usually celebrated your birthday in total silence, perhaps just by buying your favorite snack and eating it alone.

he wanted to respect your peace. he knew you so well. you had many reasons to be distant and alter your life, and he wished he could help you lessen the burden. so, showing up suddenly didn't feel right.

but a plane has already brought him back home.

instead, he waited at a cafe near your university, hidden in a hoodie and mask.

he had no idea whether you would even walk by or go to that cafe.

finally, after three hours of hoping and inhaling iced americanos, the bell chimed. there you were—the person he loved so much, despite the painful silence between you.

you had changed, and it was physically visible. he couldn't pinpoint if it was for better or worse, but he wouldn't dare bother you.

you ordered an iced latte and the cheapest cake the cafe had. for a student on a budget, it was enough.

anton devised a simple plan: buy a whole cake of your favorite flavor, ask the server to hand it to you with some made-up excuse, and hurry back to the airport.

you were surprised that day by a "lucky birthday promo." you went back to your dorm happily with a box of strawberry shortcake you had been eyeing for weeks.

the universe had finally favored you. from then on, you promised yourself you'd be a frequent customer there until you graduate.

little did you know...

all thanks to the guy who flew back overseas that night, uncaring of the consequences. at least he knew you were well.

you stopped listening to his playlists. you didn't want to be reminded. but the moment you found out he was still consistently adding new songs, you found yourself saving them again.

anton never stopped adding music to that old playlist he exclusively shared with you. he wasn't sure if you were listening, but the chances were never zero. for years, he added songs he wanted you to hear—songs that resonated with his longing.

it was still you. it was always you for anton.

for his junior recital, titled "Saudade," anton performed pieces by his assigned composer. he also finally completed the drafts he started in high school—the ones you saw only in the hidden music room. the ones you gave suggestions for, despite knowing nothing about the musical notes. the ones you teased him about dedicating to you.

on a random day, you decided to check how he was doing. you jumped from site to site, glad to see him thriving.

you stumbled upon his soundcloud. a three-minute song titled "saudade" was there. you tried to stay composed until you heard a familiar giggle fading softly after the bridge.

anton had sampled your giggle from that silly high school video of the two of you doing dinosaur impressions.

oh.

anton remembers you more than he ever truly knew you.

guess who flew back just to stop by your university on graduation day?

anton was also graduating in two days. he thought, time zones be damned.

he didn't ask if outsiders were allowed. he just roamed outside the venue until the ceremony ended. he spotted you from afar, taking photos with friends.

he wanted to give you flowers, but he didn't know how. so, he settled for the contentment of seeing you happy.

he wore a white long-sleeve shirt that fit his figure perfectly. he blended into the crowd, though people whispered about how handsome he was as they passed.

coincidentally, you saw a familiar face in the sea of robes. your gut told you it was him, but by the time you pushed through the crowd, he was gone.

maybe you were daydreaming.

you swore it was anton. but there was no way he’d fly back just for this. he probably forgot about you already.

anton focused on his career during those years, becoming successful immediately after graduating. he thought that if he ever ran into you again, he wanted to be "worthy" of standing beside you.

months later, when a friend invited you to a reunion at a new family restaurant, you never expected anton to be there.

and god. locking eyes with anton again—it was a struggle to convince yourself that this was reality.

you were mesmerized by how well he had aged. he looked intimidating, secure, and grown.

there was no way a man like this was still single.

there was no way anton would ever care about you like he used to.

when you finally crossed paths, anton’s reserved nature acted as a shield for the fact that he was actually shaking inside. his teenage self was screaming internally. it brought him back to the memory of you looking so dangerously pretty during the senior ball.

you had a way of making him feel incredibly uneasy, almost as if a million butterflies were fluttering in his stomach whenever you were around.

he was more nervous than he’d been at any recital.

anton wanted to see if you remembered him. you didn't react when he arrived at the table. it was awkward; you were sitting right across from him. people started to ask why you weren't close anymore.

"anton, here's the menu," you spoke quietly, handing it to him. the unexpected exchange went completely unnoticed by the rest of the table, oblivious to the tension building in the air.

as he looked across the room, he felt as if time had come to a standstill in that fleeting moment. everyone's chatter faded into a distant murmur, replaced by the pounding of his heart in his ears.

it was as if the world outside had dissolved, leaving only him and the source of his sudden, eager focus, enveloping him in a bead of heightened awareness.

when the group laughed at a story, anton still had the habit of not looking at the one telling the story. instead, he looked at you.

he just wanted to see if you were laughing, or if you felt left out. your reaction was the only one that mattered.

to lighten the mood after the heavy meals everyone had shared, a game started at the table. it was simple: there were random icebreaker questions on cards that anyone could answer freely. although it was somewhat boring, it helped spark conversations and allowed everyone to catch up.

yuha shuffled a card and read it aloud: “when was the last time you traveled alone?” everyone groaned, collectively agreeing that the card was boring. you didn’t have an answer, so you silently agreed with them.

as you picked a new card, anton coldly spoke up. “2023. 2026.” you looked up at him, and he was already sipping his drink. 

“aigooo, no need to brag, nyc boy,” one of your classmates next to him cooed. 

the years he mentioned were significant to you, so you watched him intently, wondering where someone as busy as him traveled alone during those times. 

anton took another sip of his drink before glancing at you, as you were already conversing with yuha.

2023. your birthday.

2026. your graduation day.

later, he volunteered to drive friends home, and you were assigned to his car along with two classmates.

you discovered that he was residing in your building, sharing an apartment with your best friend's brother. they were living together temporarily while he searched for a place of his own, creating an unexpected connection just down the hall.

a true coincidence. destiny had favored him this time.

"unlucky" for you, you had to sit in the passenger seat.

anton was quick to notice you shivering and adjusted the temperature without a word.

when he overheard you were sick, he dropped a bag of supplies at your door. he texted, "i had extras, thought you might need them," even though the receipt showed he bought them five minutes prior.

"it's been five years. i'm sure he has moved on," you told your best friend.

moved on?

anton is immovable when it comes to you.

even now, he drinks the tea you liked and reads the niche authors you mentioned once in passing.

in the years apart, anton found ways to keep you in his life without you being there.

it wasn't obsession; it was just that those things were the only physical tethers he had left.

with his gentle nature, his yearning was physically painful to witness—if only you could see it. he was constantly fighting the urge to reach out.

once, he was already in the elevator when the doors reopened to find you aggressively pressing the buttons, panting. you hurried inside, desperate for the doors to close.

you leaned heavily against the cool, glass wall, your heart racing as the weight of your emotions felt almost tangible as you tried to gather yourself.

when you finally lifted your gaze, there stood anton beside you, his presence steady and reassuring in the midst of your turmoil.

you fixed your posture and sniffed, looking at him with the same eyes that had cried in the rain years ago.

the air felt tight. anton was so surprised that he couldn't find the words to ask what happened.

in a millisecond, you found yourself buried in his chest, arms latched around his back as if anchoring yourself to him. a wave of emotion surged through you, and soft sobs escaped your lips, muffled against the fabric of his shirt.

the world around you faded as you lost yourself in the comfort of his embrace, finding solace in the rhythm of his heartbeat echoing against you.

anton wanted to hug you back so badly it hurt, but he was terrified of overstepping. he let you clutch his shirt, his hands clenched at his sides, fighting the urge to hold you.

anton used to be the calmest person to hold you.

the elevator doors slid open with a soft ding, jarring you from your thoughts and pulling you back to the present moment.

“i’m so sorry,” you stammered, your breath still quickened by the adrenaline. “a drunk man was... chasing me. i got so scared.”

with a deep, apologetic bow, you rushed out of the elevator, eager to put distance between yourself and the unsettling encounter.

you enjoyed reconnecting during hangouts at anton and sungchan's place with your best friend, yuha, and you occasionally bumped into him around the building, sharing small talk.

yuha, the typical best friend that she is, always insists you come to his brother's place so you can see anton.

after one busy week, you finally decided to go for a grocery run. you normally went with sungchan, but out of courtesy, you had to ask anton as well.

"oh. sungchan decided to just sleep and let me come with you," he awkwardly hissed.

when in fact, he actually pushed sungchan before leaving their unit.

the idea of shopping together felt casual yet friendly, an opportunity to bond over shared experiences as neighbors.

while strolling the aisles, your shoulders brushed as you reached for the same item. he went completely still. he didn't pull away. for a loser like him, he savored that half-second of contact like it was oxygen.

you tried to hide a smile when your hands grazed while grabbing a pastry. "hey. look, it's your favorite," he remarked.

he still had the same effect on you.

and he still had the same foolish heart for you.

just as anton memorized your features, he could recognize the sound of your heart the moment you entered a room.

when he spotted you talking to the same mean relative who had mistreated you since high school, he saw the tension in your jaw and the way your eyes lost their spark.

he approached the apartment security with firmness, requesting their assistance in drawing away the intruders from the premises.

after a tense wait at his car, he felt a wave of relief wash over him when the security personnel finally took matters into their hands.

you were so thankful and pleased to hear the admin's mention of the possibility of blacklisting your relative, ensuring they wouldn’t trouble you on the premises again.

anton doesn't just like you—he studies you well.

he leaves for work at the same time as you, so you often meet in the lobby. through those shared encounters, anton was content with the simple "good mornings" you exchanged.

eventually, he found the courage to ask if you needed a ride.

anton was a liar. he would drive thirty minutes out of his way just to spend more time with you in the quiet of his car, where the world felt small, and it was just the two of you and the hum of the engine.

still a loser in love. you never knew he was lying about his workplace location.

shared rides became a space for catching up, until the atmosphere no longer felt thick or uncomfortable.

anton is usually composed, but after a few drinks at a classmate's engagement dinner, his walls thinned.

he was honest.

anton leaned his head back, eyes half-closed, watching you across the table with a look of such raw longing it made your breath hitch. he whispered, "i miss you," and then immediately looked away, blushing.

that didn't exactly help you sleep that night.

just like several years ago, anton became a constant in your life again.

he had a hectic day on your birthday, but rushed to your unit an hour before the day ended. luckily, you were awake.

you were surprised to see him holding the same cake brand you received "for free" back in college.

you both stood there for a moment, the air thick with unspoken words and lingering tension. a soft smile crept across your face, slowly thawing the uneasiness between you. "i... i wanted to give you this," he said, breathless, his eyes flickering with a mix of excitement and worry.

you felt a rush of warmth as you stepped aside, inviting him into your space.

soon, you found yourself cozily settled on the couch next to him, the lights spread around a warm glow in the room. anton began to sing the softest version of "happy birthday," his voice still a gentle caress that wrapped around you like a comforting blanket.

as you swayed the cake back and forth, the flickering candle casting playful shadows on your face, a sense of bliss surged through you.

with a deep breath, you closed your eyes to make a wish, then you blew out the candle in one breath.

anton, captivated by the scene unfolding before him. the view in front of him felt surreal.

all the waiting, all the years. it was clear that you were truly worth every single moment.

"what did you wish for?" anton asked as he sliced a piece for you.

"hmm. it's a secret."

he handed you the plate and smiled. "how can i make that wish happen if you won't tell me?"

one evening after his jog, he saw you with someone else in the lobby.

you were grinning, holding a box of chicken tenders from that guy (who held the elevator open for two minutes, uncaring of the sensor).

anton became incredibly polite, but his eyes went cold.

it was funny; you realized you knew him too well. the way he gripped his phone and how his voice dropped an octave.

"not the best chicken tenders," he broke the silence. you looked at him, amused. "very, very overcooked."

"too salty. if you got the yangnyeom flavor, it tastes like shi—"

you laughed. "actually, these are for sungchan. he asked me to pick them up for him. you can take them home."

right. wait, what? sungchan? my roommate? anton thought. stupid jealousy.

you handed him the bag. he was embarrassed, but his nonchalant facade held up.

before stepping off at your floor, you chuckled. "jealous over a delivery guy? tsk." the doors closed on his flustered face.

anton will mention tiny details—a specific keychain or a song you hummed once. you realized he was always paying attention, even when he seemed indifferent.

anton resigned himself to the idea that you might not choose him, so he settled for being the person you can always fall back on.

just like the old days. he remembered using family connections to get you scholarships, helping you confront your deadbeat parents, or gathering sign-ups for your part-time job. he even secretly paid classmates to buy the baked goods you sold. he even had revenge on those guys from the other class who made fun of you once.

even now, you don't know the half of his hidden efforts.

anton was the only person who truly treated you well.

once, you mentioned your laptop was dying, and you panicked over work files.

days later, he brought a giant box to your door. "you can use this for now. it's my extra."

before you could refuse: "it's not brand new." (it was.) "i didn't buy it." (he did.) you accepted it out of necessity, promising to pay him back.

"no need. use it however you want."

he can provide for you more than just the problems that need fixing, more than the convenience you wanted. definitely, he will provide for you however he wishes.

you also had a fair share of moments that you 'yearned' for him.

you find out through sungchan that anton also goes to your building's gym. therefore, that motivated you to become a 'gym person'.

suddenly, you're there every morning at 6:00 am or every saturday night at 9:00 pm.

you definitely had no idea how to use the specific machines near you.

"sungchan's the one who invited me," you boasted to anton, who was only wearing a tank top with his snapback backwards. damn it.

"i don't see a sungchan here every time i come, yet you’re here," anton smirked, almost walking past you. he paused and added, "sungchan trains on a different day. you might want to check on that."

one time, in all this pretentiousness, you were "cooling down" on a mat, but really, you’re just watching him do pull-ups in the mirror.

you started to admire the way the view of his broad shoulders and arms move when suddenly, his eyes met yours through the mirror.

instead of looking away, he holds the gaze while doing one more slow, effortless rep.

you were so flustered that you had to break eye contact right away and move somewhere you can't see him. when did he even get so hot?

sungchan had invited you over for a group dinner, excited to host after yuha had unexpectedly dropped by their place earlier that day.

to the siblings’ surprise, anton dedicated three hours to deep-cleaning the apartment.

once he finished tidying up, he rushed to take a shower, but not before he was left with the crucial part of picking the perfect outfit and perfume.

"anton, come out of the bathroom when i say, uhm… just a heads-up, the floor isn’t dry yet. i had to mop it again!" sungchan called out with a lie.

"okay!" anton’s cheerfully replied, unaware of the scheme that sungchan had. he invited you earlier than the actual dinner time, eager for a little fun at both of you and anton’s expense.

"you can come out now!" sungchan announced, barely able to contain his excitement.

when you stepped into the apartment, you were greeted by the sight of a shirtless anton, clad only in his denim shorts, who had just come out of the bathroom.

water droplets glistened on his skin, and he looked momentarily startled at your sudden appearance.

“i’m sorry! i wasn’t looking!” you covered your eyes in an instant. the shirtless guy was already tomato red.

“yes, you were~” sungchan sung while moving across the kitchen. his laughter threatened to erupt as he watched the scene unfold, a devious grin spreading across his face with the scenario he had orchestrated.

one quiet night, you stopped in your tracks while walking back from the convenience store. "why are you so nice to me?"

this stirred something in him. he finally found the courage to tuck a stray hair behind your ear. his fingertips trembled—as if his existence was a ticking bomb.

anton felt defeated by the sudden question. he looked at his shoes, then back into your eyes with an intense, careful gaze. "i've longed for you for all the years i had you, and all the years i could only remember you. i'm clinging to the hope that you'd eventually look at me and see someone you could love."

he sighed. "guess i was so nice to you."

anton doesn't look away anymore. he looks at you with a heavy, grounded stare, full of yearning that he no longer tries to mask.

as you looked back at him, you realized your own feelings had never truly faded. you were certain this time: you were finally ready to let him in.

the following night, a heavy, hesitant knock sounds at your door.

it was anton, he’s leaning against the doorframe, looking exhausted. the memory of his confession from the previous night never stopped replaying in your head. it's worse now that he's actually in front of you.

his crisp black button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows didn't help your current state.

"i left my keys on the kitchen when i rushed this morning. sungchan is out. sooooo, can i stay here for a bit?"

your pulse thrumming in your ears. "sure, chanyo- anton. come in."

the atmosphere in your apartment shifts instantly. "i'll get you a blanket." you said, in attempt of escaping his presence.

"let's talk about last night." he walks toward you, stopping just inches away.

you try to back away, but you almost hit the wall next to you.

he places a hand on either side of you, effectively trapping you in his personal space. "please?" he pleaded.

anton was so close to your level. you can feel your chest ripping out any moment, you avoid his gaze as you can feel his eyes memorizing your face.

"i don't have anything to say to you," you murmured. in response, anton’s jaw tenses.

he looks down at your lips, "you sure?" you looked away and nodded.

you gazed at him once more, a wave of longing washing over you. anton leaned in closer, his warm breath grazing your skin as his nose delicately brushed against yours.

he felt a shiver run through him, every nerve ending alive with anticipation and desire. "you're a loser, anton." you murmured while his lips were just inches away from yours.

"i know." he says, a faint smirk appearing before he finally loses his composure. your thoughts surrendered to the following actions you made.

you don't say a word. you just reach up and clutch his sleeves. when you finally kissed him, it started gentle and innocent, a reminder of how your love started.

finally, he was able to relax his clenched fists at your side. he pulls back just an inch, looks at you, and kisses you again with ferocity. you pulled him closer as the kiss started getting desperate.

just moments after, you were both back on the couch. his hands, which usually stay strictly at his sides to avoid 'overstepping', are suddenly everywhere.

anton tilted your head back to deepen the angle of the kiss. he backs toward the couch, and you follow down instantly to straddle his lap. "now i understand why you didn't want to talk." anton mutters against your jaw, his breath hitching. you can feel his smirk form.

you lean down to kiss the sensitive hollow near his temple that smells like his perfume that you like. you pull away as you notice something. "you have a tattoo here?"

he pecks your lips before responding, "mhm." he fixed a strand of your hair and pulled your face down softly again for a longer, passionate kiss.

a low, jagged moan vibrates in his throat when you wrap your arms around his neck. you decided to move your lips again somewhere.

you softly sucked on the same spot again, teasing him.

anton quietly whimpered.

he actually did whimper.

"stop," he hissed. you were barely holding your grin from the response you got. "i swear."

just a mess for each other. years of pining and yearning had led to this moment.

you pulled away to breathe. he instantly helped you adjust your weight on his lap, both hands were on your sides.

"tell me this isn't your first kiss, anton." you bit your smile. you are a hundred percent convinced he kissed other people back in new york.

anton's head found your shoulder, his shyness evident in the way he hid his face to you. "it is." his voice was barely above a whisper.

a skeptical smile spread across your face as you squeezed your eyes shut, unable to fully process the moment. no way.

"so, you're saying that-"

"yes. i waited years for this exact moment. so please, baby, let's continue where we left off." he rubbed the sides of your waist softly, in motions fueled by familiarity and desperation.

you chuckle. it was also your first, but for a guy who's hot and out of anyone's league like him, you still can't believe he waited years for a kiss, as if he was so sure this would happen soon.

every time your hips move against his thighs, anton's breath hitches, and your fingers dig into the muscles of his shoulders.

his hands slide up from your waist, a low growl escapes his throat, coming from a sound of pure, agonizing relief.

anton started to internally suffer the moment he felt you grind your hips down into his in a slow, torturous rhythm. you can feel the hardness of him through his jeans. you smirk during the kiss, as you thought to yourself that he had been holding back far too much. "you're hard."

"kiss my tattoo again and it'll grow bigger." he snickered.

"shut up."

he then started planting desperate kisses on your neck, resulting in him learning your weakest spot. then, he gasps against the sensitive skin of your shoulder, his teeth grazing your collarbone.

this time, you were the one physically trembling now at the contact. you gasp his name, while tossing your head back.

anton's lips were back on yours upon the gasp of his name. the friction beneath both of you became a blur of heat and denim.

he hooks his hands under your thighs, pulling you even tighter and closer on his crotch, ensuring you can feel him. when you grind down on him in the perfectly aligned position, he lets out a jagged breath, "baby, please."

his self-restraint snapped. your shirt bunches up, and his hands slide underneath, his palms hot against your skin as his thumbs start to trace the underside of your chest. you moan at the sudden contact you felt next, and you were sure he smirked in between the ongoing kiss.

the friction was tortorous. your fingers moved to tangle in his hair, pulling his head to keep his mouth on yours.

then, it was time again to breathe. you needed something beyond this. when he finally met your eyes again, you sheepishly buried your face in the crook of his neck, while his breathing came in ragged. "i waited for you," you mumbled.

"i love you. so very much." anton gently tilted your chin up with his finger, his gaze filled with warmth. 

"should i say it back now, or should i wait for a more appropriate moment?" you teased playfully, giving his cute, big nose a gentle boop. 

"appropriate can wait, i suppose," he replied with a mischievous smile, and in a swift motion, he unbuttoned his shirt.

the man who swore to work harder than destiny has finally won.

when anton moved into his new apartment, the extra room caught your attention. it looked more than just a typical guest room. it was a room that had soft lighting from the window, with a view of the city, and a thought that reminded you of the type of bedroom you once mentioned wanting.

“this place looks like a jackpot for you,” you said.

"you like it here?" anton asked in confidence, making you look at him in confusion. "i mean, yes. it is a jackpot. i think i made the right choice."

more than the plans he had for himself that included you, he also has curated a life that had a permanent, person-shaped hole in it, trusting that eventually, you’d find your way back to fill it.

you definitely liked it there, and anton was certain of that. so, he has yet to figure out how to tell you that it was actually your room in his own place.

finally, spring came.

“happy birthday, chanyoung,” you murmured, the soft glow of the candle illuminating his face, and suddenly his new apartment was enveloped in a tranquil stillness because of this moment.

the dim lights created a cozy atmosphere that wrapped around both of you like a comforting embrace. you watched your boyfriend close his eyes and take his time before blowing out the flame.

"what did you wish for?"

he looked at you for a solid minute. "my wish already came true."

both of you beamed. he finally leaned in to hold you. "i'm not going anywhere this time." he kissed the top of your head. anton made a quiet pledge to himself at that moment that he would continue loving you like it was breathing.

it had been ten years. through high school, college, and adulthood, anton had waited. he didn't just believe in luck or coincidence. he believed more in the stubborn force of his own devotion.

and he would gladly do it all again in the next life, if it meant finding you over and over.

a love that once ended in the quiet passing of autumn had finally bloomed again in the spring.

because love endures.