#freudian

to say that minji is cartoonishly evil would simply be a lie, no matter how much you feel that way, but even you can recognize that she’s nice to a lot of people. it’s just, for some reason, you’re not one of them. when you two were forced to hang out together with friends, she would always bring up embarrassing stories to try to get them to laugh at you, and she's so damn charming, it worked. and on the rare occasion in which you felt kind of confident in your looks, she’d wait until you all were in public to point out insecurities you didn't even know you had. and the one time in middle school when you finally tried to tell your parents how awful minji was to you after she lied to the boy you liked by telling him that you called him ugly—which somehow resulted in her “comforting” him and becoming his first girlfriend—minji bawled like a baby during the mediation. in the end, you had to apologize to her for hurting her feelings. 

even so, forced proximity is a breeding ground for understanding, and you understood minji from the start. in the same way, she understood you. honestly, regardless of your wishes, she probably understood you better than anyone else; but that is no longer the case. for as much as you two have always hated each other, there used to be fleeting moments of connection. her making a snide comment about an obnoxious neighbor when they compared you to her, and you taking care to make sure nobody ate the rest of her favorite dish when she was late to family dinner. you two may have disliked each other, but there was an undercurrent of… something. it was a twisted relationship, you won't deny that, but it was a relationship, nonetheless. however, all of that dissipated like smoke once you reached early adulthood. to this day, you're not sure why. 

yours and minji’s parents pretty much forced you to room together in college, both stating that it was the only way they’d feel comfortable with you two being on your own. regardless of how quickly the two of you would now dismiss such a ridiculous notion, you were both relieved at the idea. it was almost like having a built-in companion. however, very shortly after you two settled in, things went from mildly bad to absolutely abysmal. undeniable, but ultimately menial, feelings of derision from minji became outright disdain towards you. you won't lie and say you didn't become petty in return, and you’ve never cared enough to fix such a strange dynamic, though you sometimes wonder if you should. 

as it stands, minji could hear you getting slandered to pieces, and she’d probably join in. as for you, you’d indifferently watch someone gorge the rest of her favorite dish at family dinner rather than speak up for her. now, after both having graduated and joined the workforce, you no longer have to worry about threats to cut your livelihood off. realistically, you could stand up to your parents and say, “fuck minji, fuck her parents, and fuck you both for manhandling me into being her friend!” but that sounds awfully dramatic, so you won’t.

besides, minji, for all of her raging bitchiness, is actually the best roommate you could ever ask for. for example, she never leaves her stuff lying around, and she always rinses off her dishes before putting them in the dishwasher. the only consistent downside has been the men she’s brought home since freshman year of college, which you declare are none of your business, but the sounds of her… passionate encounters are a real drag. still, you could mostly tolerate them, but her current—and seemingly permanent—boyfriend seems determined to elicit the most perverse sounds he can out of her. at first, you prayed that it was just the honeymoon phase, but it’s been literal years at this point, and the screams reverberating through the walls of your apartment would be an inconvenience to anyone; but it’s especially troubling on nights like tonight, in which you have to be up extra early tomorrow morning for a meeting at work. 

as you clutch a pillow to the top of your head in a vain effort to muffle out the lascivious noise, you contemplate maybe sending a text message asking minji to try to keep it down. maybe you could knock on the wall, and maybe that'd remind her that you're also a sentient human being who happens to occupy the room right next to hers. but you know it'd be fruitless, know it’d do nothing to actually help your situation. in fact, on the rare occasions that you’ve politely requested that they be considerate of your poor, battered sleep schedule, or even just subtly hinted to having something important in the early morning you needed to be well-rested for, it's always seemed to come back around and bite you in the ass. it's almost like they become even more unhinged than usual when they know you need your sleep, so there's absolutely no point in trying to get them to quiet down. still, as the hour ticks by, you become more and more anxious that you'll be unable to wake up tomorrow morning, so with a sigh, you tentatively knock on the wall between your bedrooms. 

surprisingly, the noise ceases, and you really think standing up for yourself might have just worked out in your favor for once, but then you hear minji and her boyfriend snicker, and then there's the damning sound of their resumed activities. she was loud before, but now, it's like minji is being mauled or something. so much for being well-rested.

-

you wake up the next morning feeling like you got hit by a truck, and you just know you look like shit. you try your best to cover your dark circles, but at this point, who are you fooling? when you finally leave your bedroom, you run into minji’s boyfriend, the one she's been obsessed with since college. beomgyu. 

“good morning,” he says with a lazy smirk as he leans over the counter. “did you sleep alright?” god, he’s such a fucking asshole.

“yep,” you mumble as you push past his shirtless body and reach into the fridge for your lunch.

“really? doesn't seem like it. you look like shit,” he chuckles, and while you don't even spare him a glance, you can just feel the smug look on his face emanating off of him and boring into the back of your head.

“thanks,” you say flatly as you fill up your water bottle. you're unsure why he even talks to you, but if you had to put it into words, it'd probably be something akin to the phenomenon of a cat watching a mouse as it backs itself into a corner. even so, you don't know why he bothers with trying to get a reaction out of you. you've never reacted to his taunts very much, but he still seems hellbent on making life difficult for you.

“you know, maybe if you got some good action, you’d understand why minji's as loud as she is,” beomgyu continues, almost as if he doesn't sense your unwillingness to participate in this—or really any—conversation with him.

“i'll keep that in mind,” you say perfunctorily as you shuffle over to the doorway and slide on your shoes before shutting and locking the door behind you. you don't see the way beomgyu’s fists clench at your unrelentingly dismissive tone, and even if you did, you wouldn't understand it.

-

in retrospect, you didn't have a particularly strong impression of beomgyu when you first met him. you vaguely remember him hanging around minji, and you somewhat recall listening to her rave about him against your will. still, her treating him like he’d been molded by the hands of the muses probably killed any interest in getting to know him in its crib. honestly? you probably should have planted some seeds of doubt in her mind when you two were still somewhat cordial, because if you had, maybe he wouldn't be with her today. your penchant for apathy has cost you peace, it seems, because beomgyu is at every family function and in every family photo, and at this point, it’s only a matter of time before he’s your de facto brother-in-law. 

it looks as though his continuous onslaught of criticisms about your appearance, your demeanor, and your very presence have no discernible end in sight; and minji is more than happy to up the ante whenever he's around, which is fucking always. you almost think that you, in some strange way, make their bond grow even stronger. after all, you're pretty passive prey, and it must be somewhat fun to invent new ways in an effort to push your buttons. still, you're older and more jaded now, and you're pretty resigned to your fate. anyway, there's no way to make a completely clean break from them without your family causing an uproar; and for as much as you resent them, you don't want to do that. 

-

you've been staying out more and more these days. after all, you're not getting much sleep at home, so what's the point of being there? plus, you’re effectively harassed by minji and beomgyu every time you have the displeasure of seeing them, so why bother? at least, that's what one would think your reasoning is, but reality is much more complicated than that. and your reality involves soobin, a guy you met in college, who you happened to reconnect with when you went out drinking with some coworkers a few months ago. 

how do you know soobin in the first place? well, you initially met him through his best friend… beomgyu. so, complicated is putting it very generously. frankly, you’re surprised someone as sweet and mild-mannered as soobin is best friends with an asshole like beomgyu, but then, you’re “best friends” with someone you fucking hate, so you guess that’s just how things work out sometimes. 

even when you are home, you don’t speak to beomgyu, who’s at your apartment so much, you wonder why he and minji haven’t just bitten the bullet to officially move in together and leave you stranded; but you're thankful they haven't because the roommate market is in dire straits. realistically, you never did speak to either of them for any meaningful amount of time outside of deflecting their verbal jabs about how you're an undesirable loser, but now, it’s even less than ever. 

you spend the night at soobin’s pretty much constantly, so tonight, your elusive presence at your own apartment is particularly jarring. the kitchen is dimly lit by the moonlight and the fluorescent lighting above the stove, and the only sounds are from you quietly opening up the plastic of the post-midnight snack you’re making. that is, until you hear the door to minji's room opening as beomgyu creeps out and lightly shuts the door behind him. you immediately register his nearly-naked form, but you're so used to it by now, you don't even blink. 

“hey," he says tentatively, but you've never been particularly in tune with beomgyu's emotions, so you don't catch the hesitation in his greeting.

"mm," you hum as you furrow your eyebrows, focusing on preparing your snack. 

"you haven't, uh, been around much. everything okay?" he asks gently.

“yep,” you reply as you focus on setting the timer.

“have you been working a lot?” he probes.

“not really,” you mumble as you begin to pour yourself a glass of water. it's late, and you've been with soobin all night, only returning home because you didn't bring a change of clothes for work tomorrow, so your inhibitions are lowered. you're not as guarded as usual, and beomgyu is intent on capitalizing off of that.

“you should eat some real food,” he suggests, trying another tactic. “i could… i could make you something, if you want.” this is… weird. beomgyu has never offered to cook for you, and while he's made things before that you happen to like, it’s always been in service of minji; and he’s only ever offhandedly remarked that there were leftovers available to you. of course, you’ve always refused, so his present consideration is daunting, to say the very least. finally, you make eye contact with him.

“uh, thanks, but it's fine. i'm tired, so i want to eat something easy and quick before bed,” you say as you redirect your attention to your timer, willing it to move faster so you can eat and get the hell out of here. you push your hair back as you wait, and you unknowingly reveal a darker patch of skin where soobin had unintentionally sucked too hard on your neck. in the dim light of the kitchen, beomgyu’s eyes immediately zero in on the mark. he draws closer, his tall frame looming over yours as he holds your hair back to get a better look.

“what's this?” you balk at his question and his overly-familiar proximity. you try to pull away, but he just steps closer, essentially trapping you between himself and the counter.

“who were you with?” he asks between clenched teeth, his eyes narrowing with a darkness you’ve never seen from him, or from anyone, really. 

you wave his hand away in annoyance.

“why do you care? you're too close,” you defiantly reply. his jaw ticks as he leans down closer to your face, his intent eyes scanning your annoyed ones.

“who were you with?” he repeats, his voice even lower this time. thank god above that your timer goes off, and you push him off of you as you grab your food and scurry to your room, eager to put some distance between the two of you. you shut your door, as usual, but for some reason, you're compelled to lock it. 

-

you think of your bizarre encounter as a one-time thing, though you're still not sure what to make of it. yours and minji’s families have always tried to push the “family” narrative between you two, and beomgyu by extension, so you briefly entertain the thought that he might actually just be buying into the ludicrous idea, albeit belatedly; but that thought is snuffed out when his previous asshole behavior is dialed up to 100. the groceries you buy are always mysteriously gone before you can even finish eating them, your keys are never where you left them, and you swear minji and/or beomgyu are using your shampoo with the intent of draining it immediately every time you buy a new bottle. is this their way of “hinting” at you to kick rocks and find your own place? if so, how petty. getting a new place on your own would be expensive, and while you're not home much anymore, you feel it's far too early in your relationship with soobin to formally suggest moving in together. you'll just tough it out.

among all the preteen-level hazing tactics, though, there is one thing that genuinely unsettles you: things in your room are always slightly out of place. your mirror is slightly tilted a bit differently than usual, the clothes in your dresser are folded a bit more crisply than you remember, and you're trying not to overreact and fall off the deep-end when you can't find a few pairs of your favorite panties.

tonight, you're finally home from a long, long day of work, and all you want to do is relax. you realize that soobin's home is a lot more peaceful, but his parents are visiting from out of town until tomorrow evening, which means they’ll be staying at his apartment until then. soobin still kindly offered to have you spend the night, and while you'd be happy to meet his parents, you’d feel a bit awkward with going any further than a simple dinner for a first introduction. 

so you're home. while you thought you knew beomgyu’s schedule well enough to successfully avoid him, it seems that he's awake far later than usual, and he's lounging on the couch when you walk through the doorway. his eyes immediately dart up when he sees you. 

“damn it,” you mentally curse, and it's like he can hear your unsavory thoughts.

“home late from whoring around again?” he drawls. you roll your eyes while taking off your shoes, but he’s especially relentless tonight.

“that's all you're doing, you know,” he continues. “nobody will ever take you more seriously than that. what do you have to offer other than mediocre sex?” there's a sneer on his mouth, which is normal, but his eyes are burning with the same unsettling intensity you registered when you last saw him; and while you’ve usually considered beomgyu as a mildly annoying pest, you start to feel a real inkling of anger. you don’t care—well, you shouldn't care—but it’s like he's dealing even lower blows than usual. you're about to answer with something —anything—but he does not take kindly to your silence.

“see, even you don't know the answer to my question,” he says with a mean laugh. “that poor bastard must be desperate for pussy to settle for you. but easy is easy, i guess.” 

for the first time ever, you actually do respond, and of all the things you could conceivably say, you unintentionally utter a string of words that happen to be particularly soul-crushing to beomgyu: “you're fucking disgusting.” you don't stick around after that, because he clearly doesn't give a shit, so why should you? you could rub your relationship with beomgyu’s very own best friend in his face, but he's not worth it. you’ll go back to ignoring him like you usually do, and you genuinely consider scouring the web for roommates. you even consider just moving out and paying this city’s exorbitant amount of rent on your own. you'll see.

beomgyu, however, is reeling from what you said. for reasons he can't possibly begin to understand, those three seemingly innocuous words, probably uttered without much thought, seemed to dig at something inside of him he can't quite explain. the pain is there, but its source is buried deep down, down, down in his stomach. he tells himself it meant nothing, that you didn't even think about what you said before saying it; but for some reason, the notion that you didn't have to think about it, that you just said what you honestly felt for him, makes him feel even worse.

he's not sure what outcome he was expecting. after all, he wanted to push your buttons, so why did succeeding for the first time feel so… so strange? he feels a sense of unease unlike anything he’s ever felt before. he’d talk about his feelings, but he doesn't understand where they're coming from, and even if he did, who would he tell? minji? the thought alone is laughable. while she has absolutely no qualms about dumping all of her problems on him, he’s never reciprocated. besides, any mention of you quickly devolves into shit-talking. he could tell soobin, but his so-called best friend has been flaking on him for reasons unknown. 

between the two, the answer is clear: soobin. still, having a non-conversation with him sounds unappealing, so he'll simply make soobin come out with him and the rest of their friend group. even if he can't quite articulate his feelings, just getting wasted with his friends should be enough to tie him over. he texts his group chat naming a day, time, and bar. everyone eagerly agrees, even his recently dodgy best friend.

-

being fifteen minutes late is one thing—even thirty minutes would be acceptable—but when soobin still hasn’t shown up an hour after the agreed upon time, beomgyu is thoroughly irritated. he tries to text, but when they remain unanswered, he harshly pushes out his chair and heads to the bathroom to call his increasingly unreliable best friend. the phone rings… and rings… and rings. beomgyu’s jaw clenches as he begins to accept that soobin, in fact, will not answer. then, just when he’s about to hang up, a groggy voice echoes into his ear. 

“hello?”

beomgyu tries to rein in his temper as he snaps, “soobin, where the fuck are you?” 

“huh?” soobin mumbles.

“you were supposed to be here a fucking hour ago. why are you bailing again? are you hooking up with someone without telling me?” usually, beomgyu couldn't care less about who soobin’s latest fuck is, but he feels the barest amount of dread in his stomach for reasons he will soon understand. 

“uh, no,” soobin replies, his voice a little clearer this time in lieu of beomgyu’s edge. “i’m just… really tired. look, i’m sorry i bailed again. we’ll go out soon, okay?” beomgyu is temporarily placated until the following moment.

“come back to bed,” beomgyu hears someone whine in a sleepy voice. it’s too low for beomgyu to pinpoint whose it is, but the dread he feels makes a resurgence. 

“are you fucking serious right now?” beomgyu snarls. “you keep bailing on me because you're shacking up with someone, aren't you?” he's not sure why, but he's compelled to ask, “who is it?” 

“no! it’s… it’s just the tv, i swear. look, uh, i’ve gotta go. i’ll text you later, alright?” soobin thinks he hangs up the phone, but unfortunately for everyone involved, he does not. beomgyu knows he should end the call and grill soobin for some answers later, but something tells him to keep listening, so he does—which is a decision he will come to regret.

“you're such a baby,” soobin coos as he loudly plants kisses down somebody's body. fuck whatever decision beomgyu thought he was making, he’s hanging up now. but then, a voice he’d know anywhere cuts through the haze. your voice.

“mmm, soobin, i need more.” 

what the fuck? 

beomgyu gasps sharply as if he’s been kicked square in the chest, the breath leaving his lungs until they start to burn. he thinks it can't get any worse than this, but then the real noise starts. it’s all a blur, really, but between the breathy moans, the cries of pleasure, the unmistakable sound of flesh meeting flesh, and soobin’s filthy words of satisfaction, what really stuns beomgyu the most is your stomach-churning praise. he can barely comprehend where he is, can barely register anything outside of the noises that threaten to break a barrier within him that he never even knew existed. 

beomgyu’s eyes squeeze shut, and his voice is nothing more than a rasp as he says, “soobin, i’ll fucking kill you.” he’s surprised at how much he means it, because right now, he really could imagine stringing his dearest friend up like prized game; but soobin’s phone has long been forgotten, tangled up in his sheets as he continues to sloppily fuck you. 

“you feel so goddamn good,” soobin growls. “gonna fill you up, sweetheart.” 

you cry out wantonly, and finally, finally, beomgyu hangs up and rips his phone away from his ear as if it burns him. he’s panting now, and he’s unsure why, but his hands are shaking as he throws his poor phone at the bathroom wall, watching it shatter with reddened eyes.

he won’t let you and soobin do this to him.

-

you’re fast asleep after your passionate indulgence with soobin, snugly curled up in his sheets wearing nothing other than one of his t-shirts. soobin smiles down at you before pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead, murmuring something about loving you. his head whips up when he hears his front door unlocking, and he carefully extricates himself from your tangled limbs, but he’s not quite fast enough to intercept beomgyu before he enters the bedroom. 

beomgyu is shaking with rage in a way soobin has never seen him do, but if beomgyu had the capacity to comprehend it, he’d notice that soobin seems surprisingly calm in what should theoretically be an unsettling situation.

beomgyu, though, is too shaken to wrap his mind around anything except for the sight of you curled up in his best friend’s bed. it’s a brutal confirmation of what he already knew, but wanted to deny. beomgyu can't bring himself to leave the bedroom, but he keeps his voice as low as he can despite his rage. he does not understand why. 

“you fucking bastard. you’re supposed to be my best friend, how could you do this? you’ve been fucking my girl’s best friend for god knows how long now, and you didn’t think to tell me?” beomgyu snarls, his voice low and dripping with venom.

“this has nothing to do with you,” soobin says flatly.

“has nothing to do with me? she may be a fucking loser, but she’s family to me, and you turned around and fucked her without asking me first?” beomgyu is filled with righteous indignation, and soobin’s incomprehensible demeanor shifts from dismissive to awed.

soobin silently stares at beomgyu with wide eyes and a gaping mouth before he incredulously asks, “oh my god, you really don't get it, do you? even after all this time… jesus, you’re either stupid or in denial.”

“what the fuck are you talking about?” beomgyu says fiercely, but soobin only sighs in exasperation.

“beomgyu, i knew you were clueless, but i didn’t think you were this clueless. look, she’s your girlfriend’s ‘best friend’, and even that is debatable, and you’re just the guy who happens to be dating her friend. so what? you won’t marry minji, won’t even officially move in with her, even after all of her ‘hints’ for ages now, so what exactly makes you family?” beomgyu falters at soobin’s words, but he doesn't back down. not yet.

“because i’ve known her for years! i’m still a part of her life, and she… she’s basically like family to me. i mean, i see her every day, i’m at every fucking holiday with her, every family dinner, and i know her better than you do.” beomgyu feels a bit pathetic having to explain his place in your life like this, but the words are still asserted with conviction. his next words, though, are not. “and she’s… she’s not like all your other flings. she’s not supposed to deal with bastards like you who only want to use her.” 

soobin, again, sighs. 

“there’s only so much shit you can do behind your ‘protective brother figure’ bullshit, but if you want to go there, we can go there. what kind of brother figure jerks off to his sister figure after he gets done fucking his girlfriend? and don’t lie, because i used to live with you, and i’ve heard you whine her name in the bathroom a million times.” beomgyu turns beet red as his jaw drops in sheer shock at the brazen accusation, no matter how true it may be; but soobin is not near finished. 

“and what guy threatens every man who ever takes an interest in a girl that's 'basically his sister’ before they can even say anything to her? you’ve been doing that shit since college, beomgyu, and the real reason you’re so scared to see her with someone else is partly because you’re terrified that they’ll turn out to be exactly what you are: obsessed—not because you’re waiting for the right guy.” beomgyu opens his mouth to retort, but he finds any words he might say dying in his throat before they can quite make it through his lips. soobin continues matter-of-factly, no room for debate.

“the rest of it is because you want to be the right guy for her, but you know you can’t be, because to her, you’re just the asshole who’s shacking up with the girl she’s hated all her life. you won’t live with minji, because that means you two would probably have to live alone, so you wouldn't be able to see the person you really want. and you won’t marry minji, because then, things would really be over, and you’d have no chance.” 

beomgyu feels like he can’t breathe, let alone speak, at soobin’s merciless deconstruction of his repressed feelings. he desperately wants to deny it, but when he looks at your sleeping form, the only thing he wants even more desperately is to hold you. you look so devastatingly beautiful like this, and he would say he wants to see you like this forever, but that’s not true. what he really wants is for your eyes to flutter open just to look at him, and for him to be the only one you see, just like you’re the only one he sees. he wants you to sleepily smile up at him before letting him touch you, hold you, kiss you, just like he’s wanted from the day he first met you. his eyes turn red as they begin to ache with unshed tears.

beomgyu swallows thickly as he feebly chokes out his next words. 

“i know. i know i'm… i’m a coward. but i love her. what am i supposed to do?” despite soobin’s unforgiving speech, beomgyu has no one else to turn to with this. he momentarily forgets that the man he’s pleading for guidance from is the very man who’s taken you away from him. and that man is now irritated.

“you're not getting it,” soobin scoffs. “you already have no chance, and you never will. instead of just approaching her like a fucking normal person, you were too much of a coward to risk being rejected, and because of that, you’ll never be anything to her. i’m not going to sit here and help you win my girlfriend over. you don't deserve her, and even if you did, i still wouldn't help you.” 

… girlfriend? girlfriend? soobin is many things, a man-whore being one of them, so beomgyu had assumed soobin was just hooking up with you behind his back. truthfully, the thought of anyone in this world having you in that way, the way beomgyu never could, makes him feel like he’s going to vomit; but to know that you’re not just one of soobin’s flings, to know that soobin sees what beomgyu’s seen in you since the moment he first laid eyes on you… that’s what truly makes him feel like he’s going to be fucking sick. 

he's angry. of course, he's angry. but more than angry, he's distraught. he’s never felt so stripped bare—naked and vulnerable for anyone with eyes to see—his usual arrogance failing to cover the ugliness that's been the crux of his true nature for longer than he can remember. he’s been exposed, belly up, with his insides torn out and put on display like a fucking frog stuck under a microscope. and all the while, soobin has been sitting and watching beomgyu squirm as he futilely tries to free himself.

“so, you… you knew how i felt this entire time, and you still got with her?” beomgyu chokes out between strained breaths. this makes soobin pause, and for the first time, he looks like he feels somewhat guilty for what he’s done.

“... yeah. yeah, i did. i thought, well, if you're never going to do anything, why can’t i? i… i’m sorry.” beomgyu knows soobin is not a malicious person, and deep down, he knows he can't blame soobin for seizing the chance to be with you. if he were in soobin’s shoes, if he had a fraction of his bravery, he’d have done the exact fucking same. but still. still, how could soobin do this to him? he could have chosen anyone else in this world, just not you. anyone but you.

“sorry? you’re sorry? you just sat there and fucking ripped me apart, and now you're telling me you’re sorry?” beomgyu accuses with a bitter laugh, his voice unconsciously raising with every word. how could soobin make him confront his unrequited love for you only to rip it out from underneath him? soobin’s supposed to be his best friend, and now he's stealing the love of his life away. but then, he supposes you were never really his in the first place. he's panting now, flushed and angry and at the very precipice of snapping into something unrecognizable. 

soobin pauses before he placatingly says, “look, i know you're overwhelmed right now, and i know you're hurting. but you—”

“are you seriously trying to fucking level with me right now?” and he's pretty much shouting now. “you don't love her the way i love her. you don't even fucking know her. i know everything about her. i know what she loves, what she hates, what she eats, what her favorite words are, what kind of medicine she prefers to take when she's feeling sick. i know fucking everything about her. you don't love her like that, you can't love her like that. nobody can love her like that, besides me!” how dare soobin say beomgyu doesn't deserve you? beomgyu has hurt you, yes, but he still loves you the most. he loves you so much, it hurts.

beomgyu feels his restless fingers aching, and though he's never really been much of a fighter, he wants to wrap them around soobin’s neck to choke some sense into him. 

but then, he hears the bed creaking. you're awake.

you rub your eyes before you sit up with the sheet precariously clasped to your chest, looking disheveled and beautiful and like everything beomgyu’s ever wanted. you're tired from your activities with soobin, but you're also a little disoriented from the wine you two drank earlier. your voice is hoarse when you ask, “beomgyu? what are you doing here? what the fuck’s going on?”

beomgyu feels his heart clench in his chest at the sight of you. he wants to shush you and cradle you to his chest as he coaxes you back to sleep, but you're not in his bed, you're in soobin's. with a longing he's never acknowledged before, he gently pleads, “c'mon, get up and get dressed. i'm getting you out of here.”

the fog over your mind clears and your eyes widen as you finally grasp how potentially cataclysmic this situation is. beomgyu is probably pissed that you're dating his best friend, and who knows what kind of machinations minji will create to tear you two apart when she finds out. you already kind of resent your parents, so if she spreads lies to them about soobin, you wouldn't really mind cutting them off; but how would that make soobin feel? and if minji wants to destroy your reputation to soobin’s friends and family, you know she'll have no trouble doing it. soobin would try to defend you, of course, but you don't want to put him through that.

beomgyu’s deeper intentions fly over your head, and you warily hiss, “what do you want from us?” 

beomgyu’s breath grows even more ragged when soobin’s shirt slips off your shoulder and he sees the mark he left on your neck. god, he wants to scrub every trace of soobin off of you, wants to erase every memory of soobin's treacherous touch from your mind. he wants to occupy every cell of your body, wants to make you forget about every other man who's dared to touch you. he tries to force the thought of what you two and soobin were doing before he got here out of his mind, but his eyes are watery as he pleads, “i want you to come home with me, okay? please? we need to get out of here, we can’t—”

“i’m not going anywhere with you,” you snap. “you're not my fucking family, you're not even my friend. you don't get to tell me what to do.” 

“don't say that, and please… please don't look at me like that.” beomgyu is fully crying now, and the haze of shock finally makes you register how distraught he looks. you're about to ask what the fuck is happening yet again, but he says something you could never imagine he’d say. 

“i love you. all i want to do is love you. please, just let me show you how much i need you, okay? just come home with me—i'm begging you.”

… love? as a pseudo-sister-in-law? you want to believe that's the case, because no matter how far-fetched the notion is, it's still a million times more believable than a romantic explanation. but even so, you simply can't dismiss the way he's looking at you like he needs you to breathe, which is certainly not platonic, let alone familial. 

you're absolutely rendered speechless, and you look to soobin for silent confirmation; but he's not calm, cool, and collected like he’d usually be. he grabs the trembling beomgyu by the collar and drags him out of his apartment. after he pushes beomgyu out of the door, he yells, “i don't give a shit about your fucked up feelings, leave us the fuck alone!” 

beomgyu is far too stunned and distressed to comprehend what's happening until the door is slammed in his face, but when his mind finally catches up, he goes from distressed to hysterical. he's bawling now, tears streaming down his reddened cheeks as he hiccups pleas to you—and threats to soobin—from outside the door amidst his frantic knocks. 

but it's not enough. he can't hear if you two are shuffling around or talking about him, even when he presses his ear to the door and tries to shush his own cries before going back to pounding on the sturdy wood. before any progress can be made—if such progress were even possible—apartment security is dragging him out of the complex and warning him not to return unless he wants to be thrown in jail.

beomgyu trudges back to his apartment. it's quite a bit of a walk from soobin’s place, but he would rather stumble home than call for a ride and risk someone seeing him like this. he cries until he can't cry anymore, and he's still shattered about it all when he finally makes it home. all he wants to do is pass out in his bed so he can briefly forget any of tonight ever happened, but he knows he'll somehow end up producing a few more waves of tears before he can do that. he unlocks his front door and he can already feel his eyes preparing for more tears to fall. 

but, like always, minji has a nearly preternatural knack of appearing when he wants to see her even less than he already does.

“beomie, baby, what's wrong?” she asks concernedly as she walks up to him from her spot on his couch and fusses over him. he knows he looks utterly defeated, like he's just got done being steamrolled, and she seems eager to console him. in a way, he thinks she's probably a bit happy to see him so vulnerable, because he never is in front of her; but he doesn't have the time to dwell on that.

he's not really sure what to say, honestly. how does he verbalize tonight's events? how does he tell her soobin uprooted his most twisted feelings for the girl minji has an equally-twisted relationship with? he decides that the best thing to do is to let her go, and that he needs to tell her the truth for once. he sighs and pries her gentle hands off of him. 

“minji, i need to tell you something,” he says shakily. 

“what is it, babe?” she asks with furrowed brows. “what's got you so worked up?” 

he pauses and bites his lip as he tries to figure out how to word things delicately. he may not like her very much, but she still deserves better than what he's given her. he settles on telling her, “i think we should break up. i just don't… don't think i'm the right person for you. i'm sorry.” 

surprisingly, she laughs. “don’t be stupid, you are the right person for me, just like i'm the right person for you.” 

beomgyu blinks as he tries to process her reaction. he finds his voice and tries again. “no, i'm not. and no, you aren't. i—”

“why?” minji interrupts. “because of your weird obsession with my ‘best friend’?”

beomgyu is speechless for the millionth time tonight. all he can seem to squeeze out of his throat is, “w-what?” 

“you heard me,” she shoots back, disturbingly calmly. “what, did you finally tell her how you feel and get rejected?”

“... what the fuck?” beomgyu gasps, too taken aback to say anything else. 

“it's been a long time coming, i guess, but i could’ve saved you the suspense and told you what she'd say,” she snorts. “you didn't have to get all worked up over nothing.”

“you… you’ve known about it all these years, and you never said anything? what the fuck is wrong with you?!” he exclaims. did everyone in the world know besides you and him? he hates the very idea of it. he hates that he's been suffering in silence, and hates that you’ve never cared enough to notice.

minji has been incredibly tame during this bizarre discussion, but now, she’s hurt, and she’ll say anything at all to hurt him back. 

“oh, please, beomgyu,” she sneers with a grating, teary laugh. “you were so fucking obvious with everything you ever did. the way your eyes trail after her like a goddamn puppy, the way you never want to hang out at your place instead of mine, the way you always get so pissed off when she wears a skirt that’s a little too short. do you think i’m stupid? do you think i don't realize that touching me makes you fucking sick? come on, beomie, you make that pretty goddamn clear with the way you only ever fuck me with the lights off, and how you only really want to touch me when she can hear us.” 

beomgyu feels like he might throw up, or maybe even pass out, he’s not sure, but he thinks he’ll find out soon. he’s utterly humiliated and disgusted with himself to a level he previously couldn’t fathom, even more so than before, but he just can’t wrap his head around one last thing.

“then why did you stay with me if you’ve known how i feel this entire time?” he asks weakly, and she lets out a scoff at his cluelessness.

“because i love you. because you belong to me. we just make sense together. she doesn't deserve someone like you, i do.” she says it like it's the most natural thing in the world—like she's mulled over her ridiculous reasoning a million times over, and she has.

“you’re… you’re fucking crazy. you don't—” 

“beomgyu, be reasonable. look at her, then look at me. nobody else in the goddamn world would pick her over me!” her words falter a bit as she says that, a few pesky tears unconsciously escaping her beautiful eyes; but she composes herself enough to continue. “listen, i know you think i'm a crazy bitch, but don't you get that i'm the only one who really understands you? i know who you really are, and it doesn't bother me. as long as you take your feelings for her and put them towards me, i won't be disgusted by you like she is. i'll accept you, no matter what. don't you want that?” 

“why the fuck would i want someone like you?!” he snarls. “you're—”

“i’m what?” she asks as tears finally fall freely from her eyes. “insane? i hate to be the one who has to break it to you, but you're just as bad as me. that's why we suit each other. from the start, you’ve only ever seen her, not me. it’s not fucking fair that she gets to have you when she doesn't even have to try! she doesn't have to try to take you from me, she doesn't have to try to get people to like her, she doesn't have to try at all. i try so hard to be perfect for you, and here you are, telling me you don't want to be with me because of someone who doesn't even like you.” 

no, no, no. this isn't how it's supposed to be. his world has been thrown off its axis in the span of one night, and he’d rather fucking die than hear another word. minji latched onto him because she couldn't comprehend someone wanting you over her, and in her own way, she loves him. and you… you're with soobin because beomgyu is a coward above all else. he wants to go back in time and never call soobin tonight, he wants to live in the thinly-veiled ignorance he's been occupying for years now, he wants to be the person he thought he was mere hours ago. lastly, he wants to feel used by minji, but he doesn't even deserve the dignity to feel that way, because he was using her right back. 

“get out,” he murmurs.

“beomie, come the fuck on. you’re letting your emotions get to your head. think about what you're doing!” minji borderline shrieks.

“you're right, you know,” beomgyu replies after a pause, and minji is temporarily relieved. she steps closer to him and tries to reach for his face, but he snatches her hands and keeps them in his firm grip as he continues. “i'm just as crazy as you are, but that doesn't make me want you. i hate myself, but i hate you, too. all your life, you've been trying so hard to be better than her, but no matter what you do, you can't force me to want you. i love her, and i'd rather keep wanting and never having her than keep pretending that i can fucking stand being around you. now get out,” he growls as he forces her out of his apartment and slams the door in her lovely face.

-

if beomgyu really thinks about it, he's always teetered right on the brink of knowing the truth, but he's been successful in fooling himself just enough to keep his feelings tamped down. when minji made a mocking comment about you losing your virginity in college, he'd gone home and cried, but he told himself it was because of the stress of finals looming over him. when he consequently spread a rumor about you being a mediocre fuck around campus, he told himself it was because anyone who'd believe him simply didn't deserve you. and when he'd zoom into the background of photos taken with minji just to get a better look at you, he told himself he was simply scrutinizing your appearance.

every time he stole your panties, he'd blame it on the taboo principle of it all rather than it explicitly having to do with you in particular. every time he’d get turned on only when you were around, he'd blame it on some secret exhibitionist kink he didn't know he had. every time he’d pretend to come in his condom during yet another unsatisfying fuck with minji, he reasoned that he was only pounding into his fist in the bathroom while imagining it was you because… well, he didn't really read into his actions for fear of what he might find.

it's a miracle he was able to live in denial for so long, and he should be grateful that the truth didn't come out sooner. still, as the weeks since the night he pathetically confessed his feelings to you pass by, he doesn't feel grateful in the slightest. he could stalk you, probably. he could threaten soobin and make him pay for what he's done. there are a million twisted things he could do to get you back in his sight, but he doesn't want to do any of them. because you wouldn't like them. because you might hate him even more than you already do. and if he's learned anything from minji, it's that you can't force someone to love you in any meaningful way.

so, he rots. he wakes up alone, goes to work on autopilot, comes straight home and drinks until he's incoherent, then goes to sleep, well, alone. he should probably try to go back to how he was before he met you, but he feels like that was another life—like he was a different person. time seems to be split before and after he met you, as much as it pains him to admit it.

it's a lonely, rainy night like any other when he's home late from work. he’s been here more in the past month than he has since he began dating minji, but he's adjusting to his newly single life as well as he can. the apartment is devoid of many personal pieces, furnished sparsely and lacking any real character. he cracks open a bottle of whiskey and begins drinking directly from it, not bothering to even use a glass. he sits on his uncomfortable couch, like he always does, and thinks about all the things he's done wrong. he doesn't even get the chance to get tipsy when he hears a knock on his door.

it's probably minji again. she's come by a few times since he dumped her, and while he could probably get a restraining order or something, he kind of enjoys seeing her suffer the way he suffered. it's not healthy, he knows, but it's one of the few forms of pleasure he feels these days. something is different tonight, though. the knocking isn't frantic, it's almost hesitant, and it doesn't last for very long. he furrows his eyebrows, and for some reason, he shoots up from the couch and rushes towards the door. his breath catches when he looks through the peephole.

there you are, standing awkwardly—almost like you're not even sure why you're there. you're drenched from the rain, and one of your arms is wrapped protectively around yourself as the other reaches towards the door, perfectly poised to knock again. just before your fist can quite make it to the door, you pause and retract it—folding it on top of your other arm. you stand still for a moment, and beomgyu is simply too stunned to move. at least, he is until you turn and begin to walk away.

with a speed he didn't even know he possessed until now, he wrenches the door open and grabs your arm before you can even react. 

“wait,” he pants, not from exertion, but from adrenaline. “what… what are you doing here?”

he thinks he sees you gulp, but that could just be wishful thinking. your lips part and close again a few times before you manage to ask, “can we talk?” 

“y-yeah, of course. um, come in,” he stammers awkwardly as he reluctantly releases his hold on you.  

what is this? some kind of psychological torture? you’ve never sought beomgyu out until now, which should give him a spark of hope, but he knows better than to delude himself. 

he steps away from the doorway to let you in and lightly shuts the door behind you. he clears his throat and asks, “if you're—do you need anything? a towel, maybe, or clothes. and i have… i have water, if you want. i mean, if you're thirsty.” he hates how fucking stupid he sounds right now, but it's almost like he can't stop talking.

you're quiet for a moment before asking, “can i have some clothes and a towel?”

his eyes widen a bit before he eagerly nods. “o-oh, yeah. just give me a second.” he tries not to sprint to his room, and he prays to god that he has clean pajamas for you. luckily, he's able to find something suitable. he returns to the living room and offers the clothes and towel to you with trembling hands. “here,” he says. “you can change in the bathroom down the hall. i… i’ll put your clothes in the dryer, okay?” 

you purse your lips and nod. he watches you hesitantly make your way down the hallway until you're no longer visible. he lets out a deep breath he didn't realize he was holding and seats himself on his stone slab of a couch. fuck, he should’ve gotten a better one like minji nagged him to. also, he’s been meaning to wipe down his bathroom mirror for a while. most importantly, though, what the fuck are you doing here?

he doesn't have time to dwell on it before you're walking back into the living room. his eyes snap up, and he feels a lump in his throat when he sees his clothes on you. his clothes, not soobin’s this time. it feels like he's hallucinating, to be perfectly honest, but he's fine with that. he just hopes the illusion continues.

it’s all too real when you plop down on the couch beside him, maintaining a respectful distance. fortunately, the couch is not only hard as concrete, but small to boot, so you end up only being a few inches away. maybe it isn't so bad after all. his thoughts are halted when you clear your throat and speak.

“soobin, uh… well, he told me everything he knows, but i just… i mean, i wanted to hear it from you,” you stammer. he knows exactly what you’re talking about, but he wishes he didn't.

“what do you want to know?” he asks in resignation. 

“everything,” you tell him, and he purses his lips with a stiff nod. he's had plenty of time to think about the unfortunate circumstances that led him to his sorry state, so the words tumble out of his mouth before he can stop them.

“i’ve always thought that you were so… so pretty. i saw you laughing with your friends on the way to class one day, and i knew i wanted you to look at me like that. and when i listened to you talk to your friends, i thought you were so smart, funny, and… and nice.” his lips are turned up in a wistful smile, and his eyes are uncharacteristically gentle. “but you never saw me, not really. you just saw me as minji’s friend, and i thought—i don't know—that if i just hung around her more, you'd warm up to me. i don't even think you remember, but i tried to be nice to you, to include you in conversation, to stand up for you. i swear to god, i did. but… but i saw the way you looked at someone else one day in the library. i remember it so clearly—you actually smiled at him and laughed at his jokes, and he wasn't even trying like i was. i was so fucking angry, but i thought i could make you see me if i made you as jealous as you made me, and i thought that there was nobody better to do it with than the girl you hate the most.” 

oh, god. you actually feel… kind of guilty? is guilty even the word? you haven't done anything wrong, you know that, but you feel like you've unintentionally twisted the knife in his chest with your apathy. for as much as you've always wanted him to drop his antagonizing demeanor, you don't like how pitiful he looks right now. “beomgyu, i…”

“yeah, i know. i was wrong,” he continues, his soft smile twisting into a self-deprecating one. “i went from being nothing to less than nothing, and it just… it made me desperate. so, i kept trying, got mean; but you never cared, no matter what i did. i guess i thought that if i could never have you, maybe i should stay with minji, because then i could make you feel something for me. even if it was only hatred and disgust—anything was better than nothing.”

“beom—” you begin to say, but he's so lost in his feelings, so lost in the foreign sensation of talking to you and actually having you listen to him, he can't stop himself.

“i just wanted you to pay attention to me. and i could—you know—keep an eye on you. but you… you don't give a shit about me, you don't even consider me as a man,” he laughs. “if i think about it, maybe i was trying to make myself an option for you, at least, and that i could show you what you're missing if i tried hard enough. but you could never actually see me that way, and… and it's all my fault.” he lets out another harsh laugh, making you wince. 

“i… i didn't know,” you say awkwardly. he takes a shaky breath before continuing.

“i've been begging for you just to give me scraps of you, because i thought it'd be better than nothing. all i ever wanted was for you to at least consider me, but you don't, you never did, and because of what i've done, you never will. i know i was wrong, i know everything is my fault; but i just wanted to be important to you, can't you understand that?” his eyes are pleading like they were when you last saw him. he's not asking for much, not even really asking for anything, and for some reason, it hurts your heart a bit.

because beomgyu is right, of course. you’ve never really cared about him, but that's not all of it, is it? you were resolved to your indifference before he even uttered a word to you, and while the disgust you've always felt for him is his fault, can you truthfully say that you’d have given him the time of day if he were nice to you? probably not, because of his association with minji. in your mind, there was no reason he’d like you if he knew her first, so his intentions were rejected before he could ever even understand them.

“i really didn't know,” is all you can think to repeat.

“i know,” he says with a bitter smile. you lick your lips before continuing.

“but i do know that i wouldn't have liked you even if you were nice to me. i don't… i don't talk to guys who are involved with minji. there's just… no point, i guess. and she liked you, and i thought you liked her, so… so i didn’t bother to get to know you.” beomgyu’s eyes are watery, but he retains his smile. he was doomed from the start, it seems. 

“i should’ve just talked to you myself instead of using her to get close to you,” he whispers.

“yeah,” you reply, and his smile finally drops; but what else could you possibly say? if he hadn't gotten involved with minji, you'd have probably liked him. he's handsome, of course, and you can't deny that he's funny. and, well, you two do seem to have a lot in common based on what you know from small talk he'd make with your parents during family dinners.

“i'm sorry,” he murmurs. “i'm really, really sorry. even if you didn't like me, even if you never would've no matter what, i shouldn't have treated you the way i did. i don't blame you for hating me, and i should be grateful you haven't done anything other than ignore me.” he means what he says, but it doesn't sound like it, because he doesn't feel grateful at all. he feels utterly hopeless. in the end, your indifference was more painful than any intentional retaliation could’ve been. 

you are silent. he's not trying to make you feel sorry for him, and you know it, but that makes you feel even sorrier. you're still struggling to form an appropriate response when he breaks the silence.

“i like listening to you talk,” he blurts out, making your eyes widen. “well, you don't really talk to me, but i overhear you a lot. i like listening to everything you say, and i like the way you say it. i like how you look, how you dress, how you laugh. and i… i like how you see the world.”

“don't you think i'm a little pessimistic?” you ask, your lips subconsciously curling up in a small smile. of all the things beomgyu could tell you he likes about you, that is truly something you never anticipated.

“i think it makes you interesting,” he says quickly, his smile tentatively returning. 

you let out a soft laugh—the first one you've ever directed at him—and he can't help but straighten up with a bit of pride at having made you happy, even if just a little.

after your laughter, though, you think back on all the things you've wanted to ask beomgyu since that night at soobin’s. you know he'll tell you the truth, so you ask, “... were you the one who messed with my stuff?”

“yeah,” he replies with no hesitation. the sheer ecstasy of your attention makes him quite forthcoming, no matter how ugly the answers to your questions may be.

“even my panties?” well, that one is a bit more difficult to answer. 

“... yeah,” he sheepishly mumbles after a pause, but his next words are hurried. “and everything soobin said i did, i did. scaring guys away, being an asshole to you for attention, uh, jerking off to you in the bathroom… all of it. i know i'm fucked up, and i know i probably scare you, but i would never hurt you. i just want to love you. i just… i want you to care about me.” 

you take a breath and begin, “i—”

“wait! before you say anything, i just want you to know, it's… it's okay if you don't like me,” you can tell the words are like lead in his mouth, “but can't you just acknowledge me a little bit?” christ, he's so pathetic. you're not used to him being so… sweet? to you, but maybe you could be. 

for as much as beomgyu has been thinking about his failed confession, you can't lie and say you haven't been thinking about it, too. you really did love soobin, but there was always a bit of reservation on both of your parts—a quiet kind of affection that you were happy to let grow organically; but your love was never all-consuming, never desperate, never aching. but beomgyu… beomgyu looks like he'd prostrate himself at your feet if it meant you'd give him the time of day, and he would. 

“i can,” you say simply, and his eyes widen.

“you… you can? what do you—”

“i can pay attention to you. i can care about you.”

his face tenses and his adam’s apple bobs. his voice is strained when he asks, “what are you saying?”

“i'm saying, i’m willing to get to know you the way you know me. i just want to see how things go, because… i don't know, i kind of... like how weird you are.” 

elation, triumph, and sheer relief overwhelm him. he doesn't want to ask his next question, but he feels like he has to. “what about soobin?”

you purse your lips and answer, “we… we broke up. no hard feelings, we just kind of realized we wanted different things out of our relationship, i guess.”

“oh, thank god,” he murmurs as he releases a shaky breath. theoretically, he should at least offer perfunctory condolences, but you two are way past such insincerity. you both know he's over the moon right now, and he's spent more than enough time lying.

only now do you notice that he's somehow managed to scoot closer and closer to you until your legs are touching without your knowledge. the clothing between you doesn't do anything to tamp down the buzzing sensation at the tentative contact. you look back up at him to meet his gaze, and his eyes are trained on you like you're the only person in the world. now that you think about it, you’ve caught glimpses of this kind of focus before—the kind of focus in which he looks at you as if everything and everyone else besides you has faded away.

his gaze flicks from your eyes down to your lips before refocusing. he leans in so close, you can see every minute detail of his face. long lashes, round eyes, slightly-chapped lips he keeps on licking from sheer nervousness. 

his voice is barely above a whisper when he asks, “please, can i…” he doesn't dare to finish his question, so there it hangs, unspoken yet unfathomably heavy. 

it’s like there’s a strange sort of magnetic pull drawing you to him. before you can recount all of the reasons why this is a bad idea—at least, so soon—you tell him, “okay.” 

that's more than enough, it seems, because in a flash, beomgyu cups your cheeks in his big, warm hands and tenderly traces his thumb along your jaw before pulling you in. 

the first meeting is pure electricity. your lips immediately slot together as if they were always meant to be that way—as if everything else was simply an obstacle leading to this inevitability. the hums of energy you feel at your clothed legs touching is nothing compared to the way every nerve in your body is set ablaze right now. you feel him shudder before he reluctantly pulls away. his eyes never leave yours, and the look in his eyes is so intense—so hungry—you feel breathless under its weight.

“thank you, i've been wanting to do that for forever,” he mutters breathlessly, and he should be finished by now, but his hands remain on your face. he gently pushes your hair behind your ears before adding, “can i… can i show you what else i've been wanting to do? i swear, i'll be perfect, and i'll stop whenever you want. i know it's fast to you, but it's not to me. i just… i want you to feel how much you mean to me. but… but i won't push you.” he’s serious about that, you know, but he looks like he'll die if you don't let him prove himself to you. his cheeks are flushed, and if his squirming weren't enough, the obvious tent in his sweatpants tells you everything you need to know. 

for the second time tonight, you take a deep breath and say, “okay.”

“oh,” he groans as he pulls you back in for another kiss. this one is much more fierce, utterly insatiable. his tongue licks your bottom lip, begging for entry, and you eagerly oblige. he moans into your mouth as his tongue tangles with yours, trying to commit every centimeter to memory. he’s embarrassingly hard humiliatingly fast, but he’s fantasized about this for so long, who can blame him? 

when you two break for air, his eyes are darkened with lust as he gulps and asks, “can i—” 

before he can finish, you cut him off by palming him through his sweatpants. the groan he releases is utterly guttural and animalistic in nature, and you carefully add, “do whatever you want.”

his breath catches in his throat at the permission, and with shaky hands and unsteady steps, he leads you to his bedroom. you're on the bed in an instant, and in mere moments, he's stripped you of the clothes he gave you to wear. you feel a bit uncomfortable, honestly, knowing he’s probably comparing you to minji; but before you can dwell on it, he's gulping and reverently whispering, “you're the most beautiful thing i've ever seen.”

before you even have the time to feel shy or embarrassed, his hands are all over you—your chest, your hips, your ass—but he won't let himself get lost in clumsy touches and lose sight of his ultimate goal: making you feel better than you ever have. he kisses down your jaw and throat before planting a searing mark at the base of your neck. he soothes the sting with his tongue, outwardly apologizing for the slight pain, but internally, he's buzzing with excitement at the prospect of leaving something tangible on you—something that ties you to him.

his mouth purposefully trails down to your chest, sucking on one peak and teasing the other before switching over. he beams into your chest when he hears you moan. slowly, he pops his mouth off and briefly kisses you again before planting kisses down your stomach, and finally, finally, finally, to your core. you're not sure how much time has passed, but you do know you've never been so wet before in your life. he spreads your legs open and groans when he sees you glistening for him. then, he looks up at you with watery eyes. there's yet another question there, you can see it, so you spread your legs a bit wider in a silent invitation. 

suddenly, his lips are buried in your folds. he leaves kisses, but try as he might, he doesn't have the wherewithal to control his hunger. when he takes his first lick, you feel an infernal heat beginning to consume you completely. he moans in pure ecstasy when he tastes you, and you can feel the vibrations reverberating through your cunt, your legs, your entire body. 

“so fucking good,” he whispers, his breath warm against your naked lips, and that's all the warning you get before he begins to lick you and suck up your slick as if he were a starving man.

you can't help but writhe beneath him as his tongue circles over your clit, and he removes one of the hands he was using to keep you spread open for him and presses it on your lower stomach to keep you in place. his other arm remains firmly locked around your thigh, nearly bruising you with his desperate grip. men do not usually treat giving head to women as if women are showing them the greatest kindness of their lives by allowing them to, but he clings to you so hungrily, you know that in his mind, you are. 

you begin to reach your peak far too quickly, and you think you moan something about being close—you're not really sure—when he slides his tongue into your hole and begins to thrust it in and out. his nose remains buried in your cunt, and you let out a cry of his name as patches of white explode behind your eyelids. he looks up at you as you come, his eyes shining with amazement and, strangely, gratitude.

as you're coming down, he licks his upturned lips and dazedly whispers, “i made you feel good, right?”

you let out a soft laugh and breathlessly reply, “yes, that was… you made me feel really good. so… what else do you want to show me?” 

his eyes go from innocent to dark again as he processes your words. he anxiously bites his lip as he slowly pulls off his shirt, then his sweatpants and boxers. his cock is painfully hard, pathetically leaking with precum and even redder than usual—because of the way he was humping the bed mere moments ago as you were lost in the haze of getting the best oral of your life. 

it’s pretty, just like every other part of him, and you have no doubt that he'll stretch you out nearly beyond what you'll be able to handle. it twitches traitorously with need as he stares at you, still dripping into his previously-crisp sheets. he unsteadily grabs his base and looms over you as he begins to tease himself up and down your cunt. he shudders at the contact, but he keeps his eyes locked with yours. he wants to watch every minuscule movement in your face as he finally, finally makes you understand how much he can do for you.

he begins to push in, one hand braced beside your head as his fat tip breaches your entrance. you both let out strangled cries at the insertion, and it takes every ounce of willpower and luck he can muster to not come immediately. he's jerked his cock raw for countless nights wishing he were fucking you, and here you are, looking up at him like he's the only thing you see. just like he's always longed for. it's an intoxicating sensation. 

“you're so fucking tight,” he groans as he works himself in. “so perfect around me.”

he draws himself out before thrusting in a little further. then again. then again. each time, he gains a bit more of you, splitting you open further and further with every movement of his hips. his veiny cock drags against the most pleasurable spot in your cunt every time. he's whimpering now, and he'd be shy in any other context, but not right now. he's fucking a girl raw for the first time, and not just any girl, the girl. the girl he’s wanted since… well, always. he couldn't care less about the fact that he sounds like a whore.

when he pulls out and slams back in again, he's finally completely sheathed in you. his eyes roll back in absolute pleasure as he lets out a guttural moan. you, on the other hand, feel so full, feel so right, you're writhing beneath him. with a shuddering breath, beomgyu pulls out almost completely before drilling into you again and again. his pace is frantic—carnal, even. when you thread your fingers in his hair, he lets out a desperate whine. 

“you feel so—mm, fuck!—so perfect. squeezing me so fucking tight, i can't—oh, god!” he babbles as he pounds himself into you. he has just enough awareness to take his skilled fingers and roll your clit as he loses himself in you. he keeps up his brutal pace in an act of frenzy.

“never—nngh—never wanna stop,” he whines as tears begin to pool in his eyes. they fall completely when you wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in for a filthy kiss. he tastes like you, and you realize you like it that way. you realize you like how pathetic he is, how much he’s loved you all this time, how much he needs you. you break from him and sink your teeth into his neck like he did to you, marking him as your own, and he lets out an animalistic cry he did not know he was capable of making.

“fuck, yes, yes, yes!” he cries out as his aching balls slap against you with every thrust. “please, please come. need to feel you—ah!—feel you come on my cock.”

his gaze finally parts from yours to look at your stomach. how nice would it be to be one with you completely? as much as he wants to, he can't stay inside of you forever, can't enmesh his body with yours, but he can become a part of you in a different way. he can plant his seed in your stomach, can mix his dna with yours in a physical, living, breathing product of his love for you—if he's fortunate enough. that way, he’ll be tied to you the way he never wanted to be tied to minji, and you’ll be tied to him just the same. but you haven't even agreed to date him. you're just lost in lust, right?

“i’m… i’m gonna come,” he pants as he continues to work your clit and fuck you like a crazed man. “have to pull out.” the words are almost painful to say, but he grits his teeth and says them, anyway.

shockingly, you wrap your legs around his waist and say between labored breaths, “you don't have to.” 

the whine he lets out is laughably emasculating, but he doesn't care. he fucks you even more fiercely and rolls your clit with even more desperation, and you can feel the tension in your stomach about to snap. you let out a broken moan of his name as you come undone beneath him, your mind flooding with nothing but unmarred bliss, and your cunt clenching around him so suffocatingly, he can barely even thrust.

“oh, sh-shit!” he cries out as his orgasm throws his world off-kilter. his cum floods your insides then—thick and hot—and he can feel you squeezing him for every last drop. he gives a few more weak thrusts before collapsing on top of you. you both pant in exhaustion, but once he catches his breath, he buries his face into the crook of your sweaty neck.

“i love you so fucking much,” he whispers, his breath making your skin tingle. he pulls away and looks up at you. “and you… you’ll love me back. i'll make sure everything—i won't let anything go wrong. and if minji tries anything, i'll ruin her fucking life. i swear, i'll be perfect. i'll be the perfect boyfriend, husband, father of—”

“tone down the crazy,” you warn as you lightly pinch his cheek. 

“s-sorry, i just got excited,” he blushes. “but i mean it, you know? i won't waste this, i promise. i'll be good for you every day, and i’ll show you how much i love you until you feel the same way. and our family—i mean, your family, they might be mad, but we'll deal with whatever happens, okay? and if they can't accept us, then we always have my family. they won't treat you badly, i swear.” he means it. his family doesn't even really know minji, and when they did meet her, they didn't care for her. 

beomgyu is looking at you with his watery, pleading eyes, and you know he'd give you the entire world if you let him. if yours and minji’s families hate you after this, he’ll be your family, and you kind of hate your family, anyway. he loves you, and oddly enough, you can really see things working out just as he says they will. 

you can't help but let out a tired laugh. “okay, i believe you.”

he groans in relief as he kisses you again, deeply and tenderly and lovingly, and you can see yourself falling in love with him, too. 

notes pt. 2: i hope u all liked this one! it's been a while since i've written beomgyu this way and i kinda missed him. ik i'm not the best at writing him but pls dont be mean. and again if u enjoyed this please leave feedback!

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SWEAT DRIPS DOWN your face and neck as you run the ball down the court, fully confident in yourself as you glide into a beautiful open lay-up. cheers erupt throughout the stadium as iowa gets a two-point lead over uconn.

it was the final four round of this season's march madness tournament, and everything was on the line. your team had taken many hits and conquered many schools to get to this game, and you were well prepared to do the same to uconn tonight.

you as well as any of your teammates had no problem admitting how skilled uconn was, especially with two extremely talented comeback players: paige bueckers and aubrey griffin.

they were uconn's resident superstars, with their poise and energy being unmatched and unbeatable. as the pair of them were recovering from a torn acl, they were determined to make their last season at uconn their best.

"let's go, y/n!" your teammate, kate, cheers as she bumps her chest with yours. you smile widely as you make your way over to the iowa bench with uconn calling a timeout.

"alright, girls, this is the home stretch right here," coach bluder yells in the huddle, "take what you want, and take it with hawkeye pride!"

she nods to kate, your team's captain, as she steps aside to let her speak.

"okay, caitlin, great job dropping threes on them, just make sure you're still balancing your deep shots with drives to the basket," she advises the brunette. caitlin nods in response, dragging a towel over her face and adjusting her hair band.

"y/n? you're a beast tonight, keep that shit up, yeah?" she compliments, "coach, is it okay if she tries guarding griffin? i think she would be a better matchup for her in this final quarter."

"you got it, kate, i trust you. y/n, you okay with that?"

you freeze for a second at the mention of the name, but agree with a smirk nonetheless, "yeah, i got her."

"okay great," kate starts, eyeing you suspiciously, "everyone else: whatever you're doing just keep it up and push harder. our main priorities on the court are getting caitlin the ball and clearing paths for y/n to drive."

"alright!" coach bluder steps back in, "hawks on three! one, two, three-"

"HAWKS!"

the active lineup disperses from the group as they scatter back onto the court, you jog up to number forty-four, a player you were more than familiar with.

you nod to the taller girl, "griffin."

"l/n," she nods back as she tries to hold back a smile.

you smirk back in her direction before locking back into the game, immediately defending the girl with no intent of letting her score.

were you undeniably in love with this girl? yes, without a doubt. but were you going to let that stop you from winning the championship? hell no.

you see paige bueckers inbound the ball to kk arnold as she starts to dribble the ball to the hoop at a steady pace.

she fakes a pass to nika and tries to send it to aubrey, but you anticipated this move, easily intercepting the ball and taking it down the court.

aubrey lets out a quick "damn" as she watches you disrupt the play like it was nothing. she is quick on your heels, trailing you with set purpose. the rest of the uconn girls adjust smoothly, speeding across the floor to run defense.

you dribble the ball a little bit behind the three-point line with one arm stretched out toward aubrey, trying to create some space.

your hand hovers over her waist as you attempt to distract her, "c'mon griffin, let me breathe," you joke, still bouncing the ball steadily.

you make eye contact with hannah and hold up a fist to signal what play you should run. she immediately understands, running up to you and setting a screen.

you break away from aubrey and pass the ball to caitlin, who pretends to shoot a corner-three, but passes back to you as you run right under the net.

you leap into the air and send the ball into the net, but as you're mid-jump, you feel a hand pull at your arms in an attempt to block you. still, you power through and send the ball against the backboard in hopes of it falling through.

the sudden grasp surprises you, making you lose your balance as you feel your ankle roll underneath your weight at the landing.

the unsteadiness causes you to fall to the ground right behind the post, forcing you to brace yourself with your arms behind you.

you hear a whistle blow, presumably at the interaction you were just part of. you are entitled to one free throw and the opportunity to complete a three-point play.

you want to celebrate but are too busy clutching your ankle in pain on the floor. wincing, you try to stand up on your own but fail miserably.

you hear someone's sneakers hurriedly squeak against the wood floor and look up to surprisingly see aubrey holding her hands out to you with hints of concern on her face.

your eyebrows are furrowed as you glance at her but reach for her nonetheless. she pulls you up with ease and wraps an arm around your waist as you shift your weight onto your unaffected leg.

"you okay, superstar?" she asks you with a laugh.

"i'm good, griffin, thanks," you pant with a grin despite the aching pain coursing through the lower half of your body.

"you gotta cool it with these plays, man, people are gonna think you're good at basketball or somethin'," she jokes.

you laugh, glad that she was able to lighten the mood despite your potential injury. for a moment it's just you two, the way it had been only in private and behind the scenes.

you were so caught up with each other that both of you failed to notice your respective teams looking over with sly faces and knowing smirks.

eventually, kate and gabbie had rushed to your side, each holding one of your hands to escort you back to the bench for inspection.

"where does it hurt, y/n?" the on-court physical trainer asks.

"my ankle," you start, "i think i sprained it."

"sit here, i'll get you some ice. try to roll it around, massage it out."

"wait," you say before she leaves, "is it okay if i just make the free throw real quick? i swear i can handle it, i'll come right back here when i get it."

"if it's okay with bluder, then sure. i'll be right back," she states before disappearing to the locker rooms.

meanwhile, at the uconn bench, aubrey was getting very intensely teased by her teammates.

"you know there's like thousands of people and a bunch of cameras in here right?" paige asks with a smirk, "thought y'all were keeping it private?"

"yeah, well i couldn't think of anything else in the moment so..." aubrey confesses, rubbing a hand down her face.

"you're so whipped, bro, it's insane," ice comments laughing, "like one second you were standing behind me, the next you're sprinting to the baseline like you runnin' a marathon or somethin'."

"yeah, for real, i literally felt a gust of wind on my face when she ran past me," kk adds.

"alright, y'all can shut up now," aubrey rolls her eyes, "actin' as if y'all not down bad for your partners either."

"just sayin'," paige shrugs, "you not gonna hear the end of this."

"from us and from the media," ice says, "even the damn iowa girls prolly won't forget this."

------

"question for y/n," a young female reporter starts in the back of the room starts, "in the fourth quarter, you got tangled up with paige bueckers from uconn, resulting in a mild injury. viewers couldn't help but notice that the first person to your aid wasn't any of your teammates, but aubrey griffin, uconn's senior guard. any comments on that?"

"yeah, uh paige was a dog for that one," you laugh, rubbing your hand over your jaw as you recall the interaction, "we're cool, though, it wasn't anything too serious. we laughed about it after the game, i don't know if y'all saw that but yeah, it's all good.

and aubrey...man, that's my girl. we've been close friends for awhile and all i really gotta say is that i appreciate her helpin' me out and all that. it definitely surprised me, if that's what you're asking. i didn't expect her to beeline to me like that," you chuckle as you feel blood rush to your cheeks at the thought of her shamelessness.

"yeah, i don't think any of us expected that," kate teasingly mumbles into her mic from beside you, making you and the crowd of interviewers laugh.

------

"griffin!"

"hey, l/n."

the brunette turns around with a smile at the sound of your voice. she was just walking out of the gym with her teammate, nika, but tells her to go ahead. the girl in question simply smirks at her knowingly before jogging up to the team's bus.

you shamelessly check aubrey out - she's full in her uconn nike tech set and her hair done up in her signature high bun. her team just lost the game but she was still glowing gorgeously.

she's carrying her custom uconn backpack with one strap on her shoulder, long fingers curled around the fabric. god, she just got out of a game - a loss even - and still managed to look so damn fine.

"how's the ankle?" she asks, pointing one finger to your foot.

"feelin' a little better," you shrug, "it's still a little hard to walk on but i'm toughin' it out."

"yeah?" she smiles, "i think i know how to make it feel a little better..."

without hesitation, the taller guard dips down to place a kiss on your lips that have been pulled into a sweet grin since the start of the conversation.

you pause, placing a hand on her chest as you survey your surroundings to ensure complete privacy.

"y/n, i really don't care right now," she groans as she notices your hesitation, "if you don't want me to kiss you i can just dip-"

you cut her off with a laugh, pulling her back into you and finally getting a taste of your girlfriend.

her free hand drifts down to the nape of your neck, her thumb tracing your jawline as she eagerly kisses you back.

"you're cute," you giggle against her lips.

"man, shut up," she chuckles, jokingly pushing you away before wrapping a strong arm around your shoulders and walking you to your bus.