#fluff.fic

since then, it’s been a slow march forward in your relationship with him. for a long few months, it was one-sided yearning glances and little keurig meetings in the break room, chatting about your weekends and the office birthday parties coming up, mundane things that really don’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.

but then he’d started peeking his head into your cubicle, asking if you wanted the rest of his lunch because he was full, passing you his half-empty bento box and a clean pair of chopsticks. on days you were sick, you’d come back to work with vitamin c packets on your desk; other days, a mug of coffee would be waiting on a coaster in your cubicle, made just the way you like it. sometimes, heeseung even waits for you on late nights, slowing down his own pace so you can leave together.

what neither of you know is that the office has a betting pool on when you’re going to realize you’re in love with each other and make it official; beomgyu, resident office gambler, has a hundred won placed on another year of suffering through your “disgusting” beating around the bush (turns out, he’s a few days short and wins close to four hundred won).

PARK JONGSEONG changes your ideology on love at first sight. he’s a regular at your favorite study place: the cafe just down the block from your apartment building. you’re five semesters deep into your bachelors in psychology, so you’re in the coffee shop often (give or take every single day of the week). there’s a table you love that’s close to the front, but not so close that you’ll be blinded by the sun when it cuts into the gaps between buildings as it sets.

he waltzes in on a random stormy saturday morning, dripping wet and protected only by the leather jacket he wears. your eyes trail him from the entrance to the register, meeting his gaze once as he passes by you. he even grants you a tiny shimmer of a smile, one side of his mouth quirking up as he ghosts by your table. it’s enough to have you bristling under your sweater and you have to drag your attention from his black leather-clad figure to your laptop, word document cursor blinking at you from an unfinished sentence in a paper for your criminal psychology class. 

no matter how much you try to refocus and make progress on this paper, you just can’t (thank god it’s not due for another three weeks). your mind is just far too preoccupied with the pretty boy you made eye contact with, mind whirling with questions about him: what’s his name? is he a student like you? what are his hobbies? lost in your thoughts, you almost jump out of your fucking skin when the chair across from you screeches against the tile floor and the very boy sits down at your table, an iced americano cradled in his hands. when you finally meet his eyes again, your granted a deeper smile and a name: jongseong, or jay, if you’re lucky (which you seem to be because you sit and talk for so long that your laptop dies… and you don’t care).

SIM JAEYUN is the brother of your best friend, so he’s always been distinctly off limits. she’d sworn you to that one night in the darkness of her bedroom after getting buzzed off of some wine she’d skimmed from her mom’s collection; or rather, she’d sworn you to be off limits from him. “i met you first, which means you’re my person, not his. you’re off limits, ‘kay? don’t let him get to you.” and you’d giggled and told her that you wouldn’t even look in his direction if it was that important to her.

but that was a couple years ago and you’re not high schoolers anymore. in fact, while she moved cities for university, you stayed home and ended up going to the same school as her brother, living in the same dorm and sharing a couple of gen ed classes with him during that first semester. with so much distance between you and your best friend, jake was the next best thing and you were spending an increasing amount of time with him. so how important was that promise you’d made when you were half-gone on dry wine?

you go on study dates at the library, he shows up at your dorm room with your favorite coffee order in hand when you’re having a rough day, he saves you a spot next to him in every class you share together. there are other little things he does that having you falling for him in a way that your friend forbid all those years ago, but you can’t stop yourself, not when you’re watching him run across the quad, an umbrella in hand, because it started pouring down rain during class and you’d forgotten to bring yours. if this is how he loves, then surely it’ll be worth it to break that promise.

PARK SUNGHOON was the one who got away. you were the star figure skating duo at your hometown rink, perfectly in sync and a beautiful couple on the ice. out of everyone you’d ever trained with, sunghoon was always the one you felt most comfortable with; your chemistry was undeniable, but it was the way he supported you on and off the ice that made him your favorite partner by far.

so of course you’d gone and fallen in love with him, just a naive teenager who was itching to have your first taste of romance. how fitting would it be to have sunghoon as your first love, seeing as so many of your performances were romantic in nature anyways? but then he’d told you one night after practice, sitting on the bleachers and taking your skates off, that he was quitting and moving away to chase a new dream and you’d sat there, staring at him, waiting for him to say that he was just kidding. when he leveled that icily serious stare of his at you, the gravity of it settled in deep and fast, and you’d stood up abruptly without a word and walked away stiffly, willing away tears, even as he called after you.

it was the last time you’d seen him.

you’re older now, more mature than you were a handful of years ago. you’re not a figure skater anymore, at least not professionally, but you coach young skaters five nights a week at a rink in the city, your new home, while you shoot for your bachelors in sports medicine.

it’s tuesday evening and you just waved goodbye to the last of your students a few minutes ago. as you’re cleaning up a few things from practice, you hear the door open and slam closed, echoing loudly. you start to make a joke about one of your students who always forgets something of theirs on the bleachers, but when you turn to face them, a much taller, much older park sunghoon stands before you, a pair of skates in hand. his shoulders are broad, waist just as slim as you remember, but he’s so much more handsome.

his hand stays in yours until he shifts gears from park to drive and back again, his hand finding yours each time there’s a lull in the drive through line. he orders your food for you, hand resting on your thigh instead, curling into the skin just above your knee, pays for your late night meal, even though you insist it isn’t necessary. he smiles bashfully at you and tells you to not worry about it; he wants to do it.

and then you end up sitting by the university lake, watching the fountains in the middle light up with the university colors. he’s spread a spare blanket he had in the backseat of his car on the ground and you sit shoulder to shoulder, sharing a large soda and a party pack of supreme soft tacos, you with your lone order of fiesta potatoes and his cinnamon twists. you eat mostly in silence, only broken up with the rustle of wax paper and the rush of the fountains, until he finally turns his head to look at you. when you look at him yourself, he’s haloed again, backlit by the orange streetlamps in the parking lot.

“so,” he starts, resting his elbow on his tented knees and nestling his head in his hand. “the big stuff.”

you’d almost forgotten about that, the big stuff, and now you’re having to fight back a cough because you almost choked after he reminded you. but he’s right. you kissed and then slept together (there was no second round in the shower, save for some kissing, but it was nice either way, heeseung there to work you over and ease the tension with deft hands and nice smelling body wash) and now here you are, sitting at the university lake and sharing far too many tacos. you need to sort things out.

“right,” you say finally, swallowing back the last bite of your fourth taco. “the big stuff.”

you fall silent again, neither one of you quite sure how to go about this. so you’re both sitting at the lakeside, clueless and blinking at each other and somehow it becomes one of the funniest situations ever and you just start giggling. heeseung stares at you bewildered for a few seconds before he joins in too, his face cracking open with a bright smile as he leans towards you, shoulders shaking with laughter.

“we’re ridiculous,” he says between chuckles, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth under the bronze lamplight.

“losers, more like,” you respond, meeting him halfway and letting your shoulder press tight against his. “wanted to talk about the big stuff and couldn’t even do that without being awkward. liv and yeonjun would have a field day with this if they knew.”

you sit there for a couple long minutes, passing quiet giggles between the two of you, heads bowed together. anybody walking by would think you were conspiring rather than sharing a laugh. eventually, your laughter does fizzle out and you’re left looking at the lake again, shoulder to shoulder, knees almost touching now. heeseung’s arm tentatively drapes over your opposite shoulder and you lean into him.

“i want you to know i don’t do this very often,” he starts, his voice quiet and almost lost to the three am air. “i’m not really one for hookups and all of that; i know you’ve hooked up with a couple of others — which is not a problem, of course. i just… want you to know that this was serious to me. you’re serious to me.”

you nod, but don’t offer anything in response because it sounds like he wants to keep speaking, like he has something else to add. while he fishes for what he wants to say next, you turn his words over in your head. he’s right, you have hooked up a few times since starting school here, but none of them have been as cute or as sweet as heeseung is; you’ve never wanted them to stay with you in your too small twin sized bed the way you want heeseung to. it’s not that you’re a player; maybe you were just waiting for him to waltz into your life.

“the kiss at the party… you said you were tired of waiting for me to make a move and i guess in the moment, i thought that meant you liked me back too, but i never really considered whether you just wanted to sleep with me or—”

you can’t take it anymore, heeseung’s second guessing. you’ve never been so serious about anyone or anything in your life. maybe you did something to make him think otherwise or maybe you didn’t and this is just him being that shy, nervous boy you’ve come to adore over the last month, but either way, you’ll do what it takes to prove to him that this was always more than a one night stand to you.

so you pull him to you, kiss him slow and soft and gentle. there’s no tongue involved, no clashing of teeth. it’s just your lips molded perfectly to his, your hand pressed featherlight to his cheek, his sharp inhale of surprise before he melts into your touch. it’s three am and you’re sitting at the university lake kissing the only boy you think you’ll ever fall in love with, his leg pressed to yours from hip to knee, his fingers curling into your sweater sleeve tight, unyielding. nothing could be more perfect than this.

you pull away, but don’t move far, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. “it was serious for me too, heeseung. i promise.”

he breathes a sigh of relief, his eyes fluttering closed as his forehead tilts to rest against yours. there’s more silence for a few long moments, just your breaths mingling between you, his fingers as they brush over the soft cotton of the sweater wear now, one you borrowed from him and never returned all those weeks ago after you got caught in a downpour.

“good 'cause i really don’t know what i would have done if you said you wanted to keep it casual,” he says at last, laughing a breathy little laugh at the end. “honestly. i really might have died on the spot because i like you so much.”

you let out a loud laugh, one that resonates from deep in your chest, and you push at his shoulders, leaning away from him. “you’re such a dork.”

he recovers from the shove and leans back in, wrapping both of his arms around you now, his chin on your shoulder. “maybe so, but you like me anyways.”

you look at him and smile, still laughing. “yes, i like you anyways.”

he smiles, all starlight and sunbeams, and he nudges your nose with his, smiles impossibly brighter when you giggle. “so much you’ll let me take you on a date later?”

you pretend to think about it before you nod resolutely. “i’ll like you even more if we go on a date.”

heeseung mirrors your nod and then presses one, two, three short pecks to your lips before he pulls away fully, smiling still. he nudges at the cardboard box between you, the bottom still full of soft tacos. he says that you really need to finish the party pack because if he has to take the leftovers to lambda rho, there will be a fight over who gets them and he doesn't want to get caught up in the crossfire.

you go back to heeseung’s dorm, closer than yours this time, with a tiny stomachache, but it’s worth it when he lays you down in bed and holds you to him. he promises your date will not involve tacos or meddling friends; you tell him you don’t care what the date is or involves as long as he’s with you.