#destinyversenet

eric turns to look at you with a palm outstretched, and his eyes dart up to yours quietly as he locks his phone. "what makes you think i have the key?"

"you're the inventory head," you turn your head when he stands up straight, now facing you, and the lewd sight before you makes you uncomfortable beyond any verbal expression. "who else would have the key?"

the windows from behind eric darkens his silhouette as he steps nearer and nearer to you, the distant sound of water in the showers and talking by the others a good distance away.

his shadow covers yours, and he blocks the light in your eyes by craning his head so he's staring straight into yours.

"key's in my locker. you can go get it if you like."

gritting your teeth, you turn your head to the opposite way and slide past him to his open locker, finding bottles of protein shakes and sweaty rugby equipment - but no key.

your lips part in immediate complaint, so you turn with a harsh frown, only to find eric holding the keys up before your nose and smiling childishly at you. "gotcha."

the annoyance is about to burst out of you when you swipe it from between his fingers, and you were just short of stabbing him in the eye with the key when he chuckles with that stupid smirk on his face.

"you know, the last person i'd expected to become the cheer captain was you."

"why?" you cross your arms and shake your head. "i highly doubt that's any of your business anyway, right?"

"no, i just- didn't take you for the type to cheer for me. it'd take me so much for me to imagine you holding pompoms with that high ponytail of yours and possibly yelling my name if i make that goal, but now it's... it's reality."

"shut the fuck up," you hiss and shove him backwards, holding your forearm against his collarbone as he raises his palms in fake surrender. "i will cheer for your team because it is also my team. but you will never catch me cheering for you. not this week, not next week, not ever. your name in my mouth?" you scoff and give him another harsh shove into the locker before stepping back, the sound of his weight against the locker echoing softly throughout the space. "in your dreams."

eric grins widely, looking down at the floor as you turn around and deliberately slam his locker door shut, this time, the slam ringing loudly.

"we'll see about that," he says with triumph. "i will make that goal!"

anyway, you're probably thinking - why do i hate eric sohn so much?

we've known each other since we were kids. lived on the same street. our parents invited each other's families to christmas dinners and new year's day celebrations for years.

not knowing that the two of us hated each other at school. both of us were on the track and field team. i was the fastest girl and eric was... well, average.

it ruined his pride.

i won, in case you were wondering. so he decided not to go back to running, and chose sports instead. he was in the baseball team and i stayed.

the story changed in university though. i got sick of running and joined the cheer team instead, and he seemed to miss it, so he joined the rugby team.

it fit his personality though, bunch of rowdy boys who didn't know better than sticking their dicks into girls from your team and other groups. ironically, eric hadn't curated such an image.

unlike sunwoo, who had his busy hand down a well of pussies before he met one of your teammates, eric was focused on his team. maybe he wanted to redeem himself, maybe he wanted to feel proud of himself for once.

but i couldn't care less. not really.

sometimes when i'm out on the field and he's running with the ball though, it kills me on the inside when it hits me that he's the one i'm cheering for.

yeah, i get it. 'isn't that the whole point of being part of the cheer team?' i know it is. i know it was my choice. but why did he have to choose the rugby team, the main sports team that our cheer squad jumps and stunts and yells for? why not the baseball team? why not the volleyball team?

maybe i could have a word with the principal about this.

the night of the game falls on your school like an impending doom - only because you've heard enough tales about how the new line-up for the rival's team was. good number of youngsters, fit and tall and also apparently very kind to everyone around them.

maybe the grass is simply greener on the other side, and you can't see past that. at least not with eric being on your side.

the teams grace the entrance path in their own stride, and while you cheered your school's team on according to your obligation, you couldn't help but notice the flawless features of what seemed to be your team's rivals.

they were right about them being tall and fit, but who left out the detail about them looking absolutely gorgeous?

99.

"y/n!"

your eyes immediately dart away from the entrance path and up behind you, watching your coach frantically flail her arms and nearly throw her clipboard at you.

"eyes on our boys!"

"'kay!" you lift an 'ok' sign and grumble under your breath, rolling your eyes as your teammates remain hooting and cheering by your side.

"you're looking at 99, huh?" your vice captain leans over and says, just loud enough for you to hear. "well, i would too, but he seems pretty occupied with you."

by instinct, you look up and witness him dart his attention back to the field, lined up and facing the team you were meant to be supporting. yet, out from the corner of your eye, you notice eric, the shortest member of your team, glare at you like you were his property. like you were his.

maybe now you were wondering if this is some ridiculous enemies to lovers thing that was going to happen between the two of you, but then the mere thought of him thinking he had the right to control who you looked at irked you more.

so all you did was to stare at 99 a little harder.

but before you could even catch his eye again, the game begins, and you're instinctively thrown into your routines. counting and yelling so your team knew what to do, making sure your teammates spotted for each other as they did their stunts.

not really paying attention to the game, but you were sure that 99 ran past and he could not take his eyes off you.

in your head, it could've been played out like a poetic, romantic beginning, wouldn't it? fleeting eyes and shy smiles under his helmet, maybe a quiet 'hello' or a timid touch on the hand.

you'd melt just by the very thought of that.

and yet that train of though is abruptly murdered by eric running straight up to you and slamming his palm down on your shoulder. your teammates are slightly taken aback, given that they know you hate each other, but eric leans into your ear, and even with his helmet on, you could smell the shitty body spray he used.

"ogle at 99 one more time and i make sure he gets off the field."

"what?" you shove him off yourself with your pompoms, frowning keenly at him. "that's playing dirty."

"and he's playing dirty by flirting with the cheer captain, no? i'm sure you wouldn't like it if one of your girls fucked one of them, would you?"

"sohn! what the hell are you doing there?!" the coach yells from some tens of metres away, throwing his hands up into the air and on the verge of hurling a whistle at him. "get your ass back here!"

eric grimaces, offering an embarrassed smile as he bows and lifts a hand in acknowledgement. when he turns back to you though, his smile disappears.

"i'll take 99 down if it means you stop being distracted."

"you'll get a yellow card."

"watch me," he steps back and adjusts his helmet.

and as the crowd dies down into the starting position, your team quietens as well.

eric is meant to be looking ahead, directly at the player in front of him, but you swear he was glaring straight at-

BEEP

the crowd erupts, a good amount of the audience standing up and clapping their inflatables against each other. random hoots and yells of the players' numbers swarm all around you. your teammates have been taught to continue cheering, though not in a routine, if they are playing on the field but for some reason, your heart is doing all the yelling instead.

luckily, 99's team seemed to be alot more agile (not to mention the fact that they had longer legs) and they make the score instead.

guest audiences erupt into loud hoots and claps and you can hear the coach yelling at your school's team.

99 turns to look at you, as if you were his girlfriend and he did nothing but conjure up all the butterflies in your stomach. out in the corner of your eye, you catch eric throwing a tiny tantrum by kicking into the grass, and you can't help the little scoff that escapes your nose.

throughout the entire game, the scores bounce back and forth. coaches and teammates were yelling at each other as if they were on opposing teams. the stench of body odour and sweat stark to stink up the atmosphere of the field.

the audience was getting restless.

the moon was high in the sky and had the area not been polluted with light, you would've been able to spot the stars.

but no, not when everyone was cheering on 99 as he dashed across the field with eric on his tail. you could hear the opposing team's benchies scream out a name.

jay.

and yours scream out eric to run faster. he might've been small, but he kept up the pace with 99 easily - the gap between them doesn't enlarge.

but suddenly, something clicks in eric. his feet speeds up in an instant and for a moment, it reminded you of the days he beat you on the track.

and that was in a once-in-a-blue-moon event.

if 99 made this goal, they'd win.

"jay! come on! don't let the fucking shorty get you!"

"come on, eric! run that ass! run it like your life depended on it!"

BEEP

and the crowd erupts into enormous cheering, some audience members and even your own teammates scream as they push past you onto the field. your vision and attention blacks out for a moment as eric rolls off 99 and throw his hands up into the air with triumph.

a sigh of relief heaves your chest unknowingly, and you can't help but break out into a smile when your teammates (the ones that aren't on the field making out with the rugby team, of course) throw their arms around you. their squeals automatically make you feel better, even if the winning goal was made by eric.

in the midst of all the celebration, however, you witness the stark contrast in your teammates' demeanour halfway through your group hug. before you could even say anything, one of them grabs your arm and turns you around.

99.

"hi."

you blink at his quiet greeting. his hair is wet from the sweat and it's stuck to his forehead, but he had such a gorgeous smile, you knew it was hard to resist.

someone rests a palm on your shoulder, only to shove you out of the stands and you stumble onto the grass, shooting a glare behind you at your teammate.

"i'm jay," he runs a hand through his hair and grins. he even holds out a hand, offering a handshake. but you're much too stunned to take it, so he clears his throat instead and keeps it under his helmet as he hugs it to his side. "i feel like i shouldn't be asking you this but do you have a boyfriend? i... the entire game- you were so hard to ignore."

he gulps, and you can see his adam's apple shift.

"you make it sound like that's my fault," you blurt.

"oh, my god," someone groans behind you.

"no! no, i didn't mean it that way. it's just... since you're not snogging someone out there, i just assumed you weren't... you know... taken. i just wanted to ask you if you were interested to go out on a date with me sometime."

"i-"

"she is!"

cockblock.

your eyes drift behind jay as he turns around, and to your dismay, eric's strutting up to the two of you with his helment shoved into sunwoo's arm as if he wasn't busy snogging with one of your girls.

"she's mine," eric smiles as he reaches over, resting an arm over your shoulder. with a deep frown in your forehead, you try to shrug him off, even attempting to shove him off you, but to no avail.

he keeps his palm tight on your shoulder, keeping you from shifting.

"ah," jay smiles with disappointment, and your heart drops at the thought of being taken away by this douche instead.

but jay is a professional and plays with sportsmanship, so he offers eric a hand instead. "great play, bud. sick catch up on the end."

"you bet it was," eric gleefully takes his hand and almost throws him away after 2 firm shakes. "anyway, a word?"

he turns to look at you, fringe stuck to his temples and brows.

"what?"

"a word. now."

you turn sharply to jay.

"i don't know who he is."

"she's joking. you know how girlfriends are," eric snickers as he pulls you away and in the direction of the field's exit.

"jay, i don't know who he is!" you turn and shout, but he could probably make out just about 1 word from your line with all the cheering at the back. it's disappointment all over when one of your girls seem to tell jay that you obviously do know eric, and by the time jay's lost interest, eric already had you at the exit near the shower room.

"what the fuck are you doing?" nearly screeching into his face, eric refuses to release your wrist. "eric! let go!"

with a sharp yank, you tear yourself away from him, and eric does not look happy when you do.

"what the fuck's wrong with you? you've won quarterfinals, so congratulations. why can't i win something?"

"what else is there for you to win? you've won every single time back when we raced."

"excuse me?!" you squint at him, disbelief drowning out your thoughts or any slither of logic in your nervous system. "you're doing this because you're pissed about something that happened 10 years ago?! my god!"

"you don't get it, do you?"

"what, are you gonna confess? because if you are, do me a favour and fuck off!"

with a restrained scream, you turn with your fists balled, your right foot stomping into the grass and headed back into the field.

eric though, had other plans.

his fingers wrap around your wrist first, warmth bursting up your warm in the midst of all that cold sweat from the temperature. then, he pulls you back into a harsh, and abrupt kiss as if he had planned it.

you resists first, fists balled against his chest and your eyes wide open. and yet, your body involuntarily relaxes when his palms drop to your waist where your bare skin was exposed, hot fingers tracing the lines where your cheerleading suit met your ribs and lower back.

instinct kills your pride and identity first - so you close your eyes.

then the feminine urge to reach up around his shoulders and neck and arch backwards overwhelms your thought process - and suddenly, eric isn't eric anymore.

he's just the hot jock on the school team.

his hold on your waist tightens as he starts to grip the flesh in your sides, your fingers digging up into his sweaty hair on the tips of your fingers. he smells like body spray and deodorant but it's the heat in the moment that ruins all your senses.

your hands grip into his uniform, pushing him backwards and into the shower room where the leftover plethora of body spray and deodorant was still hanging in the humid air.

he was already sweaty and your skin was sticky too, so it really didn't matter when the realisation of your writhing, hot bodies moved against each other against the tiles on the walls.

everybody was outside celebrating anyway, so who was going to hear eric's low grunts into your shoulder blades as he rails himself into you.

the thoughts swarm your head before it even happens.

you're not proud of it, but this is just a sip of a drug that you promise yourself you'll never have again.

eric lifts you onto the dressing table, hands already riding up your skirt and obviously completely forgetting that it had an attached pair of safety shorts. so your hands drag his hands up to your chest, resting his palms on your curves while you struggle to remove your shorts (or skirt).

his breath is heavy on your lips, and you're starting to smell the body odor off him under the uniform you're trying to strip off him. breaking the kiss only to remove your bodycon top, his fingers curl around the rim of your shorts and yank them from under your rear.

something tears, and your first instinct is to glare at him first.

but he grabs your face and messily slots his lips between yours, groaning into your tongue as if he wasn't the one shoving you backwards into the wall.

your arms calm on his shoulders where he finally removes his uniform, his palms haphazardly travelling down his own torso to pull his shirt off and undo his sports belt.

it's a shameful instinct when you part your legs, letting him press himself into you where your nerves explode all through your body upon the pressure.

your fingers begin to crawl up into his hair behind his head, gently tugging onto his sweaty locks as he dives into your neck with a hand beginning to play with you.

"fuck," you hiss into his ear, brows and jaw tilting upwards as he nips into your skin. your palms find his chest, hot and sweaty and your fingers dragging all over the curves of his skin. the bone where his shoulders are, his collarbones below his neck that was beginning to sweat, and the set of abs he had below his pecs.

but before you could go any lower, he grips your wrist and pulls back, the abrupt lack of physical contact tears you out of your lustful dream.

yet, he doesn't give you enough time to respond before he's pulled you off the table and runs his lips into yours again. blindly stumbling backwards, your knees hit the edge of the bench and he topples onto you, awkwardly trying to find a position where he wouldn't completely load his weight onto you. but he hoists you up with an arm and flips you off the bench instead, using a finger to push away your lingerie where your jaw slacks upon his finger plunging into you.

your fingers dig into the gaps between the wooden planks in the bench, and your head hangs low enough to watch him get on his knees.

for a moment, your eyes widen, surprised. but they flutter shut almost immediately when you feel the friction from his tongue on you, pushing the air out of your lungs as you jerk forward.

his arms hook your hips backwards into his face though, and your teeth sink into your tongue in a bid to silence yourself.

but you had expected eric to be experienced, and he probably knows girls love it when things come unexpected.

because his tongue disappears, and is soon replaced with himself prodding at you.

"if only you could see the way you look right now," he bends over and whispers into your ear, pressing a kiss into your shoulder as he slowly sinks in. his lowly groan runs chills down your spine, and your fingers curl around the edge of the bench for the umpteenth time.

your mind goes into static haywire as you feel your weight start to be pushed and pulled back with his fingers digging into your hips, eyes blurred and hearing muffled from the overwhelming sensation from within.

"that's it," he whispers into your shoulder blade, letting you whine and mewl under your breath. "what a good girl."

"shut- the fuck up- would you?" the thrusts cut you off between your words, and you've barely strung it together, honestly.

"when you're bent over for me like this?" he scoffs, panting through his sentence too. "don't think so."

and as he finishes his line, he goes harder, pushing you past the edge of the bench and pressing your chest into the wood instead. gentle yelps escape your mouth first before you choose to bite your own finger, and eric's in too much of his own daze and pleasure to do anything except slide his hand down your hip to rub you in circles.

your eyes are tightly shut when the friction pushes you into an alien zone of bliss, and your grip on the legs of the bench tighten. your legs turn uncomfortable, holding your weight up, so eric makes sure to hug your hips with one of his arms while still working his hands.

"good girl, are you gonna come for me?"

"fuck, i-"

"i know," his husky voice groans into your spine. your lips part and your eyes seal shut once more when he goes slower but harder.

he knows he's found it.

your fingers curl into the wood. your head is thrown forwards and the structure of your ponytail is long gone. your legs begin to give out under you as the shudders spread through your body, and eric releases you only because he knew he couldn't afford getting you pregnant, so he pulls you back up and turns you around.

shameful instinct.

you drop to your knees and let him slide himself into your mouth, abdomen still shuddering from the finish as he jerks himself off.

his load hits the back of your throat, and he groans so loud, it almost sounds like someone had taken a shit.

the embarrassment fills you like his load dripping down your throat, and he pulls himself out with half-hooded lids. you swallow whatever's left of your pride on your tongue, but eric finds the need to thumb a dab of his own cum in the corner of your mouth back between your lips.

Kim Hongjoong | 김홍중

It happens so fast; he’s stressed about not finishing the melody he was working on and oh darling he didn’t mean to throw his hands back. He’s frozen in place and oh god you flinched because of him… his voice is nothing but a whisper, the air clinging to his words as he apologises over and over and over again. He wasn’t going to hurt you, he would never hurt you, oh god he’d never think about hurting you—

The moment you let him hold you it’s like he’d lose you forever if he let go; whispering hushed comforts as he soothes your trembling figure. You were only in there to check on him because there was radio silence the entire day. You just missed him – and oh god his heart drops.

Jeong Yunho | 정윤호

He’s a gentle giant but after hours of futile perfecting of a routine he just can’t get right, Yunho is intimidating. He can’t help how he towers over you, ranting about how he’s fine and he just needs a few more minutes to get this right, and that’s when it happens. His voice raises and you take a step back, eyes quivering in the wake of his outburst. He breaks, somehow seeming half his size as he takes in the gravity of what he had just done.

His hands reach out for you, freezing as he pleads with the universe that you’ll accept his chance to make up for his mistake. A breath he didn’t know he was holding finally leaves him when you take his hand, Yunho cradling your head in his chest and apologising for scaring you. He’s stressed, and that’s no reason for him to treat you the way he did.

Kang Yeosang | 강여상

As much as Yeosang loves the back and forth he has with you, he also has his bad days. Bad days where he wants nothing more than for someone to look past the aloof front and tell him that everything’s going to be okay. But tonight, somehow even you’re oblivious and it just bubbles over. He snaps, going off over how you should have seen it and did you even care?

And he feels so guilty when he realises you’ve been flinching away with every step. The anger leaves his system near immediately and the apologies tumble out. But he doesn’t have long to wait before you’re pulling him into your arms, comforting your exhausted boyfriend, sorry for not realising how bad he was feeling. Everything was going to be okay.

Choi San | 최산

San’s a passionate man and bless him he gets invested in whatever the topic of discussion (or argument) happens to be. He gets lost in it sometimes. Tonight was just one of those nights, and a simple comment led to an intense argument that neither on you were intent on losing. Even if there was nothing to lose. And so he slams his hand down on the table as he tries to physically show you what he was describing, but the words die in his throat when he realises you’ve flinched, shuffling away from him

“Baby, I—…” tears start collecting in his own eyes, pulling you into his arms and putting the conversation to bed. Whether he was right or not no longer mattered, not when he’s startled you so badly.

Song Mingi | 송민기

Mingi doesn’t get angry often, and he tries not to. As tall as you may be, he towers over you and it doesn’t play into his favour when he isn’t trying to be the dominant force in the room. He’s just had a long day and his voice has an edge to it and he doesn’t mean for it to sound so aggressive, but it does. What he intends to be a simple request comes out harsher than it sounded in his head and the volume makes you flinch.

Several deep breaths later and he’s brought you beside him, apologising for his outburst and admitting he was at his wits end. You were just trying to help and he knows that.

Jung Wooyoung | 정우영

You know Wooyoung has a tendency to be loud, a rarely tamed excitement that charmed you the first time you met the man. But sometimes it gets a bit much. He knows this too, and he can usually see the signs that you’d prefer a quieter day, but it slipped by him today. You’d both had a fast-paced, exciting day and in the midst of it all, it suddenly dawns that you need space to process everything and breathe. Enter Wooyoung in all his excited glory and—

His voice shrinks when he sees you flinch, the entire way he holds himself coated in concern. He whispers, holding you close and making sure you know he didn’t mean to startle you. He’ll get some blankets, switch on your favourite film and the pair of you can unwind from the day you had.

Choi Jongho | 최종호

Jongho never intends on shutting you out when he doesn’t feel emotionally present, he just needs time for himself to process and understand how he’s feeling in the moment so he can deal with it. And he loves you so much for being so open and willing to discuss your emotions, but today just wasn’t his day. As much as he loves listening to your voice, it’s just too overwhelming and he just wants quiet for one moment—

And you flinched. So he kicks himself (mentally) and pulls you into his arms. It wasn’t your fault; you were just trying to help, and he knows that. But all he wants you to know is that sometimes he needs those moments to bring himself back down to reality. With a kiss to your forehead, he makes sure you know he’s only in his room if you need something as well.

© copyright work of armysantiny 2022-2023

Networks: @kwritersworld , @kdiarynet , @ultkpopnetwork , @whipped-kpop-creators , @prism-nw , @k-library , @knet-bakery , @kpclub , @ateezlovenet , @8makes1teamnet , @destinyverse , @k-mysticsnet , @aandmlibrary

If you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading! Consider reblogging, leaving some feedback or donating to my kofi!

You wondered what it was like to have a soulmate.

At least how you would have imagined it in the past. 

From the moment that you turned sixteen with your childhood best friend, you knew what your bond was supposed to be. It was meant and designed to be something special that you treasured longingly, because there were not a lot of people that acquired the specific piece that you would have to find your other half in the future. 

It wasn’t a grand or generic bond that you technically had with your soulmate, but rather a beautifully shaped key that was meant to unlock your soulmate’s equally unique shaped lock. It was said that you were supposed to meet them when the time was right, but somehow you couldn’t help but think that the one person that was meant to be your soulmate had been in front of you the entire time. 

Or that was what you used to think back then. 

Your childhood best friend, Song Mingi, was the one person that you used to find yourself loving more and more each day. He was your first in everything, up to the very point where him being your first also became your lasts for a while. You remember the night very clearly, because it was the only time that you had ever been so vulnerable with someone else that wasn’t even your family, despite the fact that you had known him since you were in diapers. 

The night that the two of you broke up after being in a relationship for at least two years, it was a night to remember considering you cried over it for weeks on end. Your breakup had only been about one revolving topic; soulmates. Of course you knew of the possibility that came when you thought about how you weren’t his, in which it was the same way that you had even considered thinking that maybe the universe was nice enough to have him actually be your soulmate; but yet somehow it also became your downfall. 

A year later after the breakup, it was by then that you were finally pieced back together once again. You were better, not once denying that you had a soulmate because you knew that whoever it was would eventually come to you when the time was right. You had forgotten all about Mingi from the moment that he walked out the door and cried all the nights on your own. 

However, it seemed as though today was too good to be true, even if your friend Yunho told you that it was all in your head. You had been over at his apartment for a movie night with him and some of your other friends from college, the sound of a knock at the front door indicating that someone was here had you going up from your seat on the couch to get it since you had volunteered to. To be fair, it had also been your second home too, along with your friends. 

Yet when you realize who had been at the door, you could feel your heart clenching in your chest tightly. You were in the same position as that one night, wondering as to why Mingi even had the audacity to show up once again into your life when you were doing just fine without him. Something felt off as you were unsure of what to do, but it could’ve also been from the other instances that the two of you had run into each other with just glances from a far. 

Mingi. himself, thinks that maybe he shouldn't have taken on Yunho’s invitation for a movie night if he had known that you were now better without him. A year too long that he spent without you anymore in his life and seeing how happy you were without him made his stomach churn, more specifically the jealousy and guilt that had been eating him alive as he watched you from afar befriend his own closest friends. 

“Are you stalking me?”

Your words had taken him off guard, him not realizing what you had said until it had processed in his head and he shakes his head in response. The words that were once on the tip of his tongue were now lodged in his throat, the sight of your soulmate key was now mocking him in front of his very eyes as he knew that you had always worn it around your neck as a necklace. 

“No, I- Yunho invited me,” He breathed out quietly and with those exact words, your head turned to where your friends were all seated on the couch previously only to be greeted with the sight of an empty couch. 

You had been set up.

“Y/N, I-”

“If you’re here to apologize, I don’t want you to.” You curtly say, crossing your arms in front of your chest protectively as your hand instinctively went to cover up the key that was still dangling on your neck, until you realized that there was something that was in his hand. 

The moment that your eye catches sight of it, you felt your breath hitch in your chest as the designs of it had almost perfectly matched the small decals that were engraved on your key. By the time that he notices, he holds up the lock closer to your line of sight and the tears that were threatening to spill from the corners of your eyes were more evident than ever, because who were you to even make assumptions in this moment. 

“I’m not saying that we have to get back together… I just want to know that if the reason that I lost you in the first place was because of me and my worries,” He starts out quietly, and you could see the pain that was in his eyes that were avoiding your very own, and you wonder if this was meant to even happen in the first place. 

Fate had a knack for timing it seems like.

“If it was you, I think I could live without you if you were to reject me anyways. It was my fault that we were apart in the first place.”

The moment that he finishes his words was when he holds out the lock for you to take, and there’s a step of hesitance in your mind as you ponder whether or not you should even try. But you do it anyway, for the clarity that you could possibly gain from this internal fight with your feelings and for the fact that if it was Mingi, then you had been right the entire time from the start. 

The key that was once around your neck now sits heavily in your palm, the weight of it felt more intense now that you had both your key and his lock in your hands, and suddenly you feel guilty; guilty that you were doing this for your own selfish emotions and thoughts. The sound of a click, however, as you had come to realize that your hands had subconsciously done what you couldn’t even comprehend to do brings you back to the reality of it all.

Tears were now finally streaming down your face as his lock had finally become undone. Completed. This entire time that you had been apart must’ve been fate’s way of letting you both grow as individuals without each other, but even then it felt like you had been a part of a cruel game. What you didn’t fail to notice this time around was Mingi’s hand now wrapping around his lock once again, but this time the tears that were now streaming down his face reflected your own face. 

Shock and surprise were one of the words that you could describe this situation, but there was also not enough words at the same time to even elaborate on how you felt. You were too overwhelmed by the feeling of it all; were you relieved that he was your soulmate? Was it bad that you wanted him to be yours so badly back then that now it even feels wrong to have him come back into your life? 

One thing was for sure, and that was the fact that the timing of it all was meant to be, you concluded, before he finally spoke up in the tension filled environment.

“I found you.”

The gentle song of the shower running accompanied by your roommate’s mindless hums filled the bathroom with a nostalgic melody you wished to permanently etch into your eardrums. You couldn’t see him, no, his form was obstructed from your view by the rubber ducky curtains the both of you had picked out at IKEA. To be honest, you weren’t quite a fan of the bright little duckies, but the genuine smile that painted its grace across Hongjoong’s lips that day changed your mind far too quickly for your liking.

A translucent white mist of steam seeped from the shower and crawled through the rest of the enclosed space. Heat immediately blossomed against your skin, kissing your exposed flesh with warm moisture. You were glad you wore nothing but a thin shirt and shorts before coming in.

“This couldn’t wait until after I finished?” Hongjoong called out past the steady stream of the showerhead.

Rocking back and forth on your heels, you shook your head and whistled out, “Nope!” You made sure to pop the p for emphasis. “I just needed to let you know that I won’t be sleeping here tonight. I‘m staying over at San’s.”

“Oh,” he said, barely audible over the water pelting his head. “Why?”

“He just broke up with his boyfriend,” came your reply. Hongjoong turned the taps off at the speed of lightning, grappling for his towel just past the curtains and wrapping it loosely around his waist. The duckie curtains parted way to reveal your roommate sopping wet, with still the tiniest bit of soap dotting his peach-hued locks. “I don’t want him to be alone, you know?”

The reply he supplied you with came out a little more grittier than intended. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s San. He’ll bounce back.”

There was little else to say to that, so you observed him with a pointed gaze (which he far-too-obviously avoided), before turning on your heel and striding out of the bathroom with not even a goodbye on your tongue.

The second time you came into the bathroom while he was showering, there were tears in your eyes. Of course, Hongjoong didn’t know that. To be fair, there were tears in his eyes, too. Damned shampoo got into his lashes again.

You, however, were crying for a different reason.

“Hongjoong,” you said, all fragmented and hollow. It just about shattered him, hearing you on the opposite side of the duck curtain, so close but so far.

“Y/N?” Hongjoong queried, shock lacing his tone. The two of you haven’t really been speaking much since the last time you barged in on him showering. “Is something wrong?”

It took you a moment to properly respond. When you did, you still somehow messed it up by sputtering out a meek, “No.” After two more beats of silence, you added on quietly, “Yes.”

The shower slowed down to a pattering drip. Hongjoong’s nail-polished hands stuck out to grab his towel once again, just like last time. When he pushed past the curtains and stepped out, however, there was no soap clinging to his soaked clementine hair. There was no frigid stiffness to the atmosphere, nor were you running off to another man’s home.

You were here, in the flesh, in front of him.

And you were crying.

Hongjoong wasn’t quite sure what to do.

“What’s wrong?” His tone couldn’t possibly get any softer. For you, only for you, he saved this voice.

“I got laid off.”

Something inside him crumbled. You loved your job; he’s never seen anybody love doing something more than you did. “I’m so sorry.”

“If,” you paused to hiccup, “you need me to pack up, I’ll be out of the way by tomorrow.”

Terror clutched at his ribs, a sickly molasses churning at his insides. “No, no, what? What’s going on? Why would I need you to pack up?”

The way you blinked at him startled his entire being, confused, saltified emotions lacing your lower lids like snow a winter tree branch. Hongjoong sucked in a breath, stepping forward to press his palms into your shoulders, hoping it would come off as a somewhat comforting gesture.

“Well, you know my money situation.” Your roommate’s gaze grew hard. “Now that I’m out of a job, I just thought… you know… you’d want to find someone else who could actually pay rent.”

No, why would he want that? He wanted you, only you.

“I can take care of the money for now.” The fabric of your shirt creased beneath his grip. You frowned at him, but he continued on, “I’m not heartless enough to kick you out onto the curb, alright? Stay here. We’ll figure it out together.”

You sniffled a pathetically quiet sound. It was then Hongjoong realized he’d pull at stars for you, rope the moon down for you, anything, just to keep you from crying again. It was a heavy cognizance to suddenly land on his still-damp shoulders.

Falling in love was something Hongjoong imagined would happen slowly. Sweet and delicate, unraveling slow and gentle, nimble fingers tugging at the ribbons encasing his heart.

No, this was something entirely different.

It felt like the entire floor was shaking (come to think of it, those might’ve just been his legs), the walls were crashing down, and the glass of the mirror shattered into a million glinting shards. None of that happened, of course, but it felt like it. Everything was so sudden, so unsure, so terrifyingly unfamiliar.

He didn’t know love could feel like everything was caving in.

“I’m…” Your pretty eyes searched through his. He averted his gaze. This was his roommate, for fucks sake! “I’m gonna go put some clothes on. We can watch a movie or something, yeah? How does Chinese takeout sound?”

The moment a smile curled the corner of your lips upwards, Hongjoong knew he was a goner. Totally and utterly fucked.

How the turn tables, Hongjoong mused as he slid into the bathroom. This is it. He was going to tell you. No turning back now.

God damn it, Hongjoong really wanted to turn back, though. The nerves were singing away his insides. Was he really going to do this? Jeopardize the perfectly safe relationship he had with you now? What if he ruins things between the two of you forever?

No, no, you deserved to know. He never liked keeping secrets from you. Now, don’t get him wrong, Hongjoong was wicked good at lying; blessed by the hands of the devil himself. But, no, he could never even think about lying to you. Why would he lie to you, after all? You made it so he never really had to.

But, oh, did Hongjoong want to back out of this. This is a bad idea, he mentally lamented, pulling a palm over his weary face.

Before he could think to turn around and march straight out, your voice had him freezing on the spot.

“Who’s there?” you asked, slightly muffled by the duck curtains.

“If we were in a horror movie, you’d be so dead,” Hongjoong chuckled. “You really think a serial killer would tell you who they were right before murdering you in the shower?”

A snort escaped you as you lathered soap onto your skin, working away at the tensed muscles. “Well, some people are considerate, unlike you.”

“Flattering that you think a serial killer would be nicer than me. Truly, I’m honored,” came his dry reply. The saccharine tinkling of your laughter echoed about the bathroom, and Hongjoong could feel his heart shatter into fine powder, dripping through his ribcage and spilling all over the pristine white tiles.

He was so utterly in love with you that he was making a mess of himself. Pathetic, right?

“What’s up, Joong?” Your query snapped him out of his reverie, and he had to physically shake his head to get his mind screwed on properly. “Did you lose your job, too?”

A dry chuckle tumbled past his lips at your joke.

“I, uh, I need to tell you something.”

“Sounds juicy,” you hummed, “go on.”

There was a lump in his throat that just couldn’t seem to go away. It was as if the universe was telling him to stop, run away, never tell his roommate that he was in love with them.

Feelings were a curse, and he was the ogre princess. Yes, his brain just made a Shrek reference. He’s stressed, alright? Love was like onions, you had to peel一oh damn it, he couldn’t stall anymore!

“I think I’m in love with you.”

The silence was deafening. His heart thundered in his chest, a mantra of regret, regret, regret. It was slow, oh so mortifyingly slow, how you twisted the warm metal handles and the water gradually slackened down to a mere drizzle. Every drip felt like a slap to the face, because each water droplet indicated another second that you were pondering over his confession; most likely stewing through a way to gently let him down.

Maybe Hongjoong should just pack his stuff up and leave; that would probably save him from further embarrassment.

“Could you…” As you spoke, all delicate and… was that amusement threading your words? Your roommate prepared himself to pick up the pieces of his dusty old heart off the bathroom floor. “Could you maybe tell me that while I’m not showering?”

Oh.

Mentally kicking himself, he managed to choke out a meek, “Yeah, of course.” Your roommate shuffled out of the bathroom with a metaphorical tail tucked between his legs, shutting the door behind him as quietly as humanly possible.

Piteous was the best word to describe Hongjoong right about now. He sank into the couch just down the hall from the bathroom, sinking his face into a cushion to muffle his groans. God, he was such a fucking idiot. He shouldn’t have said anything. Keeping his mouth shut never hurt anybody.

If he had the will to cry, he would. That was rejection, right? Was he just rejected? Hongjoong really couldn’t tell and it was driving him insane.

It felt like hours later that you pattered out of the bathroom, hair damp and a loose grin tugging at your lips. You were wearing nothing but a baggy t-shirt that sunk all the way down to your knees. He couldn’t quite tell if it was his or yours; your laundry always ended up crossing paths eventually. Much to his dismay, he found himself wondering if you smelled like your coconut body wash, or if you had stolen his shampoo like you always did, a scent of mint and berries wafting from your still-drenched hair.

Even after being discarded like yesterday’s dinner, Hongjoong still found you beautiful.

Wait… why were you smiling?

“Hi,” you whispered while taking a seat beside him, a small thing that had a chill spidering through his veins. A gulp forced its way down his throat when you lifted your hands and walked your fingers along his arm, setting a lighthearted tone for a very serious conversation. “You okay?”

With lids blown apart, Hongjoong could only nod silently. He was afraid that if he cracked his lips open, another Shrek reference would come spilling past his lips.

“You wanna,” you gestured vaguely with your free hand, feather-mirth painting itself golden across your visage, “tell me what you said in the bathroom again?”

It felt as if his heart was attempting to break out of its confines, pounding at his chest at an alarming rate. “Uhm, no.”

An eyebrow arched into the air at his response. “No?”

“It’s embarrassing.” Rouge colorized your roommate’s cheeks, a vivid color that you often found admiring in the sunset.

“How could it be, when I feel the exact same way and I’m as easy as a daisy?”

Hongjoong could swear, right then and there, that all the dusty remnants of the organ behind his ribcage were doused in gasoline and lit on fire.

“What?” he spluttered, blinking at you as if you were a hallucination and he was a mad man.

The faintest of grazes of your fingers against the side of his face conjured crackles of electricity beneath his skin, a certain fondness lurking beneath the depths of your searching irises. Hongjoong was… confused, to say the least. “Well, if you’re not going to say it again, I guess I’ll have to. I know I’m in love with you.”

His voice broke, but he couldn’t quite find it in himself to care. “You are?”

If you smiled that damned smile of yours one more time, Hongjoong was ninety-nine percent sure he was going to combust into flames. A laugh rumbled from his stomach, a deep, hearty one that only you could make him emit.

“I am.”

He was so in love with you, it wasn’t even funny anymore.

“So am I.”

“I know, Hongjoong,” you scoffed, voice lacking any bite.

With that, your knuckles slid from his cheekbone to his chin, tugging him slow, but firm. The closer he grew to you, the stronger your scent grew, fresh and so addictive, Hongjoong wished that he could bottle the aroma and keep it as his own. You made the first move, dipping forward boldly. The two of you kissed the smiles off of each other’s faces, albeit awkward at first, diving back for more every time you broke away for much-needed air, foolish grins permanently etched into both of your lips. You were intoxicating, like a taste of poison in promise of immunity, like iced water for the parched, like… like the swamp and Shrek. Oh, god damn it, not the Shrek references again!

“You’re shaking,” you mumbled against his lips.

“‘M nervous.”

“Because I love you?” The way you tilted your head and brushed your nose against his made him completely forget where he was, what day of the week it was, what he was going to order for dinner. All of that, straight out the window, because the only thing that mattered right now was you.

During the lip-to-lip exchange, Hongjoong hadn’t even realized that his hands found purchase on your waist, the fabric of your (his) slightly damp shirt smooth beneath his palm. “Because I wasn’t expecting this to happen so quickly.”

“We can take it slow. Baby steps, yeah?” you murmured in a honey-tone, running your fingers through his tangerine strands, marveling at how the color’s still as vibrant as it was the first day, despite you helping him dye it over a week ago. The memory brought a nostalgic beam to your face; Hongjoong just couldn’t stop squirming and ended up getting orange stains all over the both of you. “How about we start by changing those duck curtains, hm?”

Your roommate reared away from you, a gasp of mock-offense bubbling in his throat. “What does this have anything to do with the duck curtains?”

“They’re really ugly,” you said, holding back a smile.

“They are not!” He protested, but was quick to backtrack at your narrowed stare. “Okay, fine, they are. But we’re keeping the curtains.”

You made a strange, challenging noise, placing a hand on his chest to propel yourself forwards and land an affectionate kiss to his cheek. “We’ll see about that, roomie. Love you.” You got up immediately after, meandering towards the kitchen. “Gonna whip us up some lunch.”

Never had Hongjoong thought that he could fall in love with someone a million times over. In his head, he always perceived it to be a slow-occuring, one time event. No, love happened when sparked, whether gently blown into a baby flame or born into a chaotic ensemble of explosions, nobody could decide. Love was unchooseable like that. He was glad love found its home in him as quickly as it did, though terrifying in the moment (and still somewhat petrifying now).