JUICE BOXES, iPODS, AND UNWANTED LOVE pt. one — pt. two
𓏸⠀ 𓈒 paring: cortis’ james x reader (mika)
𓏸⠀ 𓈒 warnings/tags:stupid teenagers and there avoidant problems half of them never gets brought up. lowercase writing, teenage angst, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining, emotional tension, mentions of sex (non-explicit), slight jealousy, hurt/comfort, soft humor, bus stop scenes, nostalgia
𓏸⠀ 𓈒 word count: ~3.6k
𓈒 ׄ summary: choi mika met him by chance and definitely didn’t love him by choice — because when he’s the sun, and they’re both afraid to melt, what else can you do but look away? a story about two kids who never learned how to say “i love you” without laughing first.
₊ ୧ m.list!
𓂃 ۪ ׄ a/n: i hope this is actually good i worked so hard tumblr deleted it like three times i’ve been up since 10 and it’s 6 am i have problems!!! so many things i could address but im just lazy i hope this is good im going to crash out but yea!
junior year
no, i didn’t kiss james.
okay— maybe i did…
okay maybe i did more than kiss james.
sue me!
and maybe it wasn’t that bad.
mika was sitting on the edge of her bed, hair messy from sleep, phone glowing in her hands when beomgyu walked in like he owned the place. her chips in his hands.
mika raised her eyebrow, her face dripping in disbelief, looking around for what it seemed like hidden cameras. shocked he’d even dare enter her room. at this time.
“get out?”
“admit it.”
“whatever happened to ‘good mornings’? i’m seriously tired of this generation, just rude and—”
“you kissed him! that’s why you avoided him in the beginning of the year.”
mika froze, jaw dropping. voice cracking. “i. did. not.” she snapped a little too quickly. beomgyu raised his eyebrows, unimpressed.
after a long silence and the chomping of mika’s chips he was eating, she snapped.
“okay— maybe i did. once. but that was like—” she waved her hand around like she was summoning something, “ages ago. and it was a mistake.”
he smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “uh huh. sure. just like how you ‘accidentally’ held his hand to school, or how about—”
mika groaned, practically yelled, throwing a pillow at him. “i will actually kill you and your stupid parrot, get out of my room!”
⸻
she remembers the first time she met him.
mika’s birthday was on thanksgiving. which meant her house was chaos—people, decorations, and her mom insisting everyone play nice.
that year, a new family had just moved in next door. the son, james, had the kind of quiet smile that looked polite at first… until it wasn’t. until it turned into that mischievous smirk she would grow to know too well.
and her mom, being the sweet person she was, invited the family over—not knowing the hell she was about to bestow upon her daughter.
mika and beomgyu were territorial. if they had to pee on their house, they would. and so they did—or at least their version of peeing. they hoarded all the games, ignored him anytime he tried to talk, and stuck their tongues out anytime he tripped on a decoration they purposely planted. every day till thanksgiving, james endured their stupid pranks. so he snapped back.
by the time her birthday rolled around, they’d already been in a silent prank war for weeks—rubber snakes, fake notes, glitter explosions.
and then came the argument.
“you’re such a sore loser,” mika had snapped, arms crossed, cheeks pink with frustration.
“me? you literally threw cake at me!” james shot back, icing still in his hair.
“you deserved it!”
“you said truce!”
“you broke it first!”
their voices bounced around the living room until beomgyu yelled from the kitchen, “can you two just kiss~~” a young beomgyu teased.
they both went quiet. too quiet. and a clueless beomgyu walked away to his mom, only to ask for seconds.
for a second, neither of them knew what to do with that silence—the kind that hangs between two people who don’t actually hate each other as much as they pretend to. they were just kids and they did not want to kiss.
mika broke it first. “you’re annoying.”
“you’re mean.”
“i don’t care.”
“cool, me neither.”
and that was it. they didn’t speak again for two whole days.
that was too long for james though.
⸻
three nights later, she was grounded (again) for throwing glitter in the sink and “making it explode.” she was lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling, when she heard a knock on her window—soft, hesitant.
it was james. hoodie crooked, hair messy, holding a juice box and headphones in one hand, and her ipod she had been trying to find for a week in the other.
“you’re not supposed to be here,” she whispered, sliding the window open.
“i know,” he said, smiling a little. “but i felt bad. also… bad prank.” he held up the ipod.
she blinked at him. “you stole my ipod, you dummy?”
“borrowed,” he corrected. “it was a prank, you see? pranked ya~” he poked at her dimple.
she stared, trying not to laugh. “you’re such a loser.”
“you are like the same level of loser.”
he handed her the juice box next. “peace offering. tropical punch.”
her lips twitched, the smallest ghost of a smile. “you remembered that’s my favorite.”
“yes, now let me in!”
“hm. no, you can sit there though. let’s listen to music.”
he smiled and nodded.
for a moment, they just looked at each other—two kids standing under the porch light glow, pretending not to care, sharing headphones and sipping their juice boxes.
and maybe that was the first time she realized that james was the only person she would want to be with, like this at least—no matter how annoying he got.
⸻
sophomore year
they ended up in the same friend group again. both a little taller, a little different, but still the same dynamic: mika pretending not to laugh at his stupid jokes, james pretending not to stare too long when she talked. they had their moments when they’d connect and, in the same breath, their moments when they’d disconnect.
he was still full of energy—loud, goofy, and overly expressive. and mika was still chill, weird but chill. she definitely grew into her looks—the kind of pretty that made people stare without knowing why. and so did he, though to her, even with his annoying presence, he was always charming.
“and yeah, i’m just like really—” james was cut off by a sarcastic mika, “oh really? oh reallyyy?? no, no, yeah, keep talking… really?”
he deadpanned and snuck his hand behind her, pulling her hair lightly but enough to tilt her head back.
“james!” she hissed, swatting his arm as they walked through the hallway.
“what? there was something in it,” he said, grinning.
“die.”
james mocked her, leaning in and making that stupid face he always made—and she made it right back, somehow making it ten times more stupid.
their friends laughed, and all she could do was mumble, “yeah yeah, joke’s over.”
⸻
it was your thing—you and james always bonded with music, dance. that’s what you did for a living. you guys always went to the same performing arts school, both in the same classes—you understood each other artistically.
and he could read you—and well, he had his moments, at least.
every now and then, when you were quieter than usual, distant, he’d show up to your front door. you always got like that, when you were doubting, when you weren’t happy with your technique, when you thought you were only good, not great.
so wordlessly he’d show up at your window, ipod and headphones in one hand and juice box in the other, with a smile that you would drool over if you were in the mood. he’d just sit next to you, playing your favorite songs.
you two would secretly hold hands like it was a crime.
sometimes you’d just stare at each other. like you could communicate solely through eye contact. like if he’d look away he’d die, like your eyes were his lifeline. his hands would come up to your face sometimes too, rubbing your cheek with his thumb ever so slightly, handling you like you were a delicate piece of glass, like you’d break at any sudden movement. he’d look at you almost as if he was in love with you—but when your thoughts wandered too far, you’d instantly snap back into reality. that’s not something you wanted to even entertain.
but at the end of the day, he understood the language your soul spoke. in fact, his soul spoke the same one. and that’s really why you could never leave each other alone.
your friendship was like this since the day he came to your window—confusing, cyclical, unbreakable.
and maybe that’s what scared you both.
⸻
the library
now, james and mika always fought. it was practically their thing. they’d argue over homework, choreography for the school’s dance team, cafeteria seats—anything, really. they’d go weeks without talking, both of them pretending not to care, until james found a way back in with some dumb face or stupid joke that made her laugh even when she swore she wouldn’t.
he always made her laugh. even at jokes she’d roll her eyes at from anyone else.
but today was different.
she liked when he joked—just not about girls. never about girls.
they were sitting across from each other, textbooks open but untouched. the table between them was covered in notes, scribbles, and empty snack wrappers. james had that glint in his eye, the one he got when he was bored and teasing was the only thing keeping him alive.
“you know hana from chem?” he said, smirking. “she told me i looked good in uniform today.”
mika didn’t even look up. “okay?”
“i mean—maybe she has a point.” he ran a hand through his hair, that dumb playful grin spreading.
her pencil snapped. literally snapped.
“oh really, i don’t remember asking?” she muttered, voice tight. and then she looked up. “no, yeah, i really don’t remember asking.” she shot up from her seat, rolling her eyes.
“what? i’m kidding,” he said quickly, but she was already shoving her notes into her bag.
“sure you are.”
“mika, come on. don’t be mad—”
“mad? i’m not mad.” she laughed and stood up, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “i just didn’t know you needed constant female validation to survive.”
his smile faltered. and his eyebrow raised, his heart fluttering a bit just thinking about her being jealous, but he knew she was serious. “hey, so, that’s not fair.”
“neither is this.” she motioned between the two of them.
that stung. because he knew whatever they had going on was indeed not fair—advances always being made just to crumble in seconds, by both parties.
he opened his mouth, then closed it again, watching her walk away before he could say anything else.
⸻
the next few days were quiet. too quiet. no teasing in class, no messages, no sideways glances in the hallway. mika told herself she didn’t care—that she was done with him—but every time her phone buzzed, her heart still jumped a little.
that was until the last day of school.
she found him waiting by her locker. the bell had rung over 15 minutes ago but she stayed back a while, lost in her thoughts. slow to take off her pointe shoes and her ballerina uniform, coming out of the restroom in sweats and a hoodie, she sighed when she saw him.
he looked nervous—hair messy, hands fidgeting with his hoodie strings. “hey.”
she didn’t look at him, just focused on putting her stuff away. “what do you want?”
“to talk.”
“about hana?” she said sharply. “yeah go ahead, maybe this time say her name three times and she’ll mysteriously pop up.”
“no,” he groaned, choosing to ignore the shady comment she threw. “about you, actually.”
she knew that already.
“i was being an idiot,” he said, words tumbling out fast. “i just… i joke when i don’t know what else to say. i didn’t mean it the way it sounded.”
“then why say it at all?” she asked quietly, still not meeting his eyes.
he hesitated, then took a step closer. “because i get weird around you, mika. i say stupid things. i just—i don’t know. i like seeing you smile. and i’m dumb for thinking you’d find a joke in that.”
she finally looked up—and his expression almost undid her. there was no teasing grin, no smugness. just honesty. and that look. the look he’d give her when they were alone, listening to music, holding hands. like she was the only girl in the world.
the look that made her chest ache.
but she had to keep the act. she threw her head back dramatically and groaned, like she got punched in the gut, almost making him chuckle if it weren’t for the situation they were in.
“you don’t get to just make me mad and then show up looking like that,” she shot her head back up, trying to look annoyed, but her voice was already softening.
“like what?”
“like you mean it.” she raised her brows, looking away, hand gripping her locker door.
he exhaled, relief flickering in his eyes. “i do mean it.”
and for a second, neither of them said anything. the noise of the hallway faded—just the sound of their breathing, close and unsure.
then she shut the locker door, making him jump a little.
“really?”
he sighed, running a hand through his hair, grabbing her bag and setting it next to his. “every time i’ve ever apologized, mika, i promise i meant it. i don’t know, i’m bad at whatever this is, but i really—i want to make it up to you. you’re right, this is unfair and i don’t want it to be.”
his eyes burned through hers. his words came out fast, but it was like he was in slow motion. she could trace every crevice of his face—like she already had it memorized.
he reached out first, fingertips brushing hers, hesitating—and she didn’t pull away this time. no, this time she let him step closer, let him cradle her face and say i love you with just his eyes.
and now, his lips.
it wasn’t some movie-perfect moment. it was messy, quiet, and a little awkward—like them. but when he leaned in, just enough that their foreheads touched, their noses brushed, everything else fell away.
the kiss wasn’t planned. it just… happened. like it was inevitable. like all those months of tension and fighting and laughter had been leading right here.
when they finally pulled back, both of them breathless, mika laughed under her breath.
“you’re still annoying,” she whispered.
“yeah,” he said, smiling, “but you like it.” he giggled. “oohh that was good, wasn’t it?”
she rolled her eyes, face straight yet her cheeks were warm. “air baall,” she whispered sarcastically, leaning back in, filling the gap of tension between them.
soft and slow—almost like their relationship.
“oh! i almost forgot!” he pulled away abruptly and went digging in his bag, just to pull out a juice box—and his ipod.
“let’s go home, yeah?” he smiled, making a stupid face and dragging her along.
but when they got home, it wasn’t like all the other times he apologized or came over to let her know he was there for her. it was different. he showed her he was for her in a different way—or at least that’s what he would tell her. but now? she’d just say he was there to take something from her.
⸻
that was the last day of school before summer break—and eventually, like every other summer, they were off to visit their families in their hometowns. james off to china and mika off to her grandma’s strawberry farm far from seoul. both of them were too big-headed, too proud, too scared to ever actually text each other. after that night spent entangled in mika’s sheets, ipod playing their favorite songs.
⸻
i thought you knew this wasn’t fair why would you leave
she spent that summer lost in thought barely speaking only ever getting notified about his wear bouts through her nosy mom. she knew they’d come back together but the way they left things it wasn’t weird it was comfortable. but the fond feeling growing her chest unsettled her and the anger of him never texting her unsettled her even more.
what is he doing.
⸻
the first day back
mika was pacing her room, talking to beomgyu, who was still half-asleep under his blanket, one arm hanging off the side of the bed.
“so you’re seriously planning to avoid him?” he mumbled into his pillow.
“not avoid—just, like, delay our inevitable awkward bus stop reunion,” she said, tugging at the sleeves of her hoodie.
“you realize that’s literally the same thing, right?”
she ignored him, chewing at her freshly done nails, catching a glint of her silver ring before tugging her sleeve over it. her newly dyed blonde hair kept falling in her face, and she kept tucking it behind her ear in frustration.
“what if he’s waiting there?” she asked quietly.
“i don’t know, shut up,” beomgyu said, yawning. “you two are just dramatic.”
mika rolled her eyes. “we’re not dramatic. we just—” she paused, biting her lip. “we just. well, he—”
“yeah,” he muttered, eyes still closed. “you got nothing. just admit it, you’re a smitten little boy~ you’re in love, mika!”
then suddenly, just as she was about to snap, his stupid parrot did it before her—squawking and screeching like it had no sense.
she threw a sock at beomgyu, then pointed at the parrot. “i’m seriously going to kill you—”
mika left the house ten minutes later than usual, hoodie zipped up over her uniform, wired headphone in, hoping the bus would already be gone. the air was sharp and cold, biting at her fingers, and she tucked them deeper into her sleeves — her ring pressing against her skin like a secret she didn’t want to remember.
when she turned the corner — of course, he was there.
james. hands in his pockets. same wired headphones swaying around his neck. hair still messy from sleep.
“you’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered under her breath.
he looked up, surprised — and then immediately tried to play it cool. “oh. hey.”
“hey.” she glanced away, pretending to check her phone.
“thought you weren’t coming today.”
“you know i wasn’t but then i thought he wouldn’t dare show his face again so let me just go,” she looked him up and down “yet here you are”
he laughed softly, rubbing the back of his neck. “yeah. uh. i was… running late.”
“same.”
the silence stretched out, filled only by the sound of the wind and the occasional car passing by. mika rocked on her heels, trying not to look at him, but she could feel his gaze — that same warm, stupid, nervous energy he always carried around her.
“your hair’s different,” he finally said.
she blinked, caught off guard. “oh. yeah. dyed it.”
“blonde suits you,” he said softly.
she looked up then, just for a second. “shut up.”
another beat. and he smiled.
how could he smile, does he not take you seriously, no you know he takes you seriously so why on earth is he smiling and what on earth is he going to do next and what on earth is she feeling in her chest right now.
“remember when we’d throw snowballs at buses?” he said suddenly, grinning.
“remember when we had sex?” she deadpanned, i mean how could someone forget a night like that, their first night like that.
the air shifted — it turned cold — and james froze a bit, heart dropping. “yeah… because i remember it? why’d you leave?” instead of a question it was more of a threat.
“because i had to? why didn’t you text?” he almost scoffed, hurt that she even thought for a second he’d just tap and dip. it wasn’t like that, and she knew that.
she narrowed her eyes. “why didn’t you text? you’re never not on your dumb phone.”
that’s when they both realized — as they looked into each other’s eyes — that they’re dumb. dumb teenage idiots who haven’t even told each other i love you yet, but had sex. they don’t even know how to pay bills. they were immature. they didn’t know better. how could they blame one another? how could they expect something so heavy to work perfectly with zero experience? they had to just trust each other, and it hurt them both knowing the outcome of their mess — but nevertheless, they smiled.
and a familiar look flickered in his eyes.
“i missed you.”
“ what did you say?” she asked, playing dumb, obviously. but before he could comply like he usually did, the bus pulled up — brakes squealing.
mika exhaled, almost disappointed by the timing, enjoying their moment.
“guess that’s us,” she said, stepping forward.
“guess so,” he echoed.
they climbed on, going to the very back — both pretending to scroll through their phones, both pretending not to keep glancing at each other’s reflections in the window.
as the bus pulled away, mika’s phone buzzed.
james 🧃: i said i missed you.
mika 🎧: ughhh ur so chopped shut up.
james 🧃: ur blushing ho.
she didn’t reply — instead, she pulled her head back, closing her eyes and pursing her lips, trying not to bust out laughing, making james silently laugh. instead of the ache that subsided in her heart summer, it was replaced brought back to life just merely by his presence alone.
and maybe, just maybe, she didn’t really mind missing the earlier bus after all.
