#got7 fluff

Third week in a row. Same office, same chair, same tragically beige carpet that has seen more emotional breakdowns than his Instagram DMs.

Not because of the partying, or the sleep schedule, or the existential dread that hits at 3am and whispers, “hey king, what if this is all meaningless?”.

But because every man he meets is in a relationship except him.

His therapist doesn’t even look up anymore. She just clicks her pen, like she’s starting a timer on how long it’ll take him to get dramatic.

“What happened this time, Jackson?” she asks, flipping to a fresh page in her notebook.

“Everyone is in love except me,” Jackson declares, collapsing into the couch like a Greek tragedy in designer sweatpants.

He sprawls out so aggressively the cushion wheezes. One arm draped over his eyes, he looks like the world’s most dramatic K-drama second lead who never gets the girl but always gets the soundtrack.

“I tried getting a girl’s number last night,” he groans.

The therapist underlines something. “And?”

He peeks at her from between his fingers. “And she asked if I could introduce her to Jungkook.”

Silence. The kind of silence that deserves its own Oscar.

His therapist hums sympathetically, which is therapist code for “again?”

Jackson isn’t done suffering.

“The week before that?” He sits up just to gesture more dramatically. “A girl asked for Taehyung.”

He throws his hands up, incredulous. “She didn’t even pretend to be subtle. I was mid–flirting. I had a whole compliment lined up about her earrings. And she just—” He imitates her voice in a high-pitched tone. “‘Omg, you know Kim Taehyung, right? Can you introduce us?’” He clutches his chest. “I didn’t even get to the part where I say I like her style. Do you know how hard it is for me to do soft boy?”

“And last month?” the therapist asks, her pen hovering. She’s learned with Jackson that it’s best to let the monologue run.

Jackson’s shoulders slump. He covers his face with both hands like the memory physically hurts. “Yeonjun,” he whispers through his fingers.

The therapist leans in slightly. “I’m sorry?”

He drops his hands and looks at her, eyes wide and traumatized. “Yeonjun,” he repeats, louder. “From 4th gen.”

There’s a pause where even the clock on the wall seems to hesitate.

The therapist finally looks up properly. This, apparently, has crossed some invisible line.

“That… must hurt,” she says, and for once, it sounds less clinical and more like, girl, I’d be crying too.

Jackson’s voice cracks. “Do you know what it feels like to be the ‘do you know so-and-so’ guy? I’m like a walking LinkedIn connection for people’s crushes.” He sits forward, eyebrows knitting together. “Am I old?”

“You’re twenty,” she replies, already knowing what’s coming next.

“THAT’S WHAT I’M SAYING,” Jackson cries, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m surrounded by men who look like Greek gods,” he continues, counting on his fingers. “Jimin winks at people for fun. He doesn’t even mean it half the time. His resting state is flirt.” He holds up another finger. “Wonho exists. That’s a hate crime against the rest of us.” Another finger. “Eunwoo breathes near a girl and suddenly she’s like, ‘Wow, fate is real.’” Jackson gestures to himself. “And I’m out here getting friend-zoned into being a party promoter for other men’s relationships. I’m basically Eventbrite with abs.”

The therapist presses her lips together, clearly fighting a smile. “You do host a lot of parties,” she notes.

“That’s branding,” Jackson says defensively. “It’s community building. It’s networking. It’s—”

“It’s you inviting women to environments where all your stupidly attractive friends are also present,” she finishes gently.

He narrows his eyes at her, betrayal in his gaze. “Are you… victim blaming me right now?”

“I’m just observing a pattern,” she replies. “Maybe,” she says slowly, “stop inviting people to parties.”

Jackson blinks.

Stares.

Tilts his head like a confused golden retriever who just heard the word no for the first time.

“Stop… partying?” he echoes, as if she’s suggested he stop breathing.

“Or,” she clarifies, folding her hands over her notebook, “stop using parties as a personality.”

Jackson gasps like he’s been stabbed. “That’s literally my brand, doctor.” He looks personally attacked. “What am I supposed to do? Read?”

“Yes,” she says immediately.

He blinks again, horrified. “Like… books?”

She nods.

He mutters, “I knew this was going to be a hard session,” under his breath.

The therapist leans back. “Jackson, you’re charismatic, you’re kind, you’re funny—”

He perks up. “And hot?”

She gives him a very professional look. “I’m not answering that.”

“I’ll put that down as a yes,” he says confidently. “Continue.”

She takes a breath. “You are more than the fun guy who knows everyone. But right now, that’s the role you keep throwing yourself into. If you only ever show up as the party guy, people will treat you like a doorway. Not a destination.”

He goes quiet at that.

A doorway.

To Jungkook. To Taehyung. To Yeonjun–from–4th–gen.

He slumps back into the couch, staring at the ceiling. “So what, I need a new personality?”

“Not new,” she says. “Just… expanded. You don’t have to stop hosting parties, but maybe stop measuring your worth in how many people show up, or who asks for whose number.”

He kicks his foot a little, sulking. “That’s like… half my hobbies gone.”

“Develop new ones,” she suggests. “Ones that are just about you.”

He squints. “Like… cooking?”

“That could work.”

Jackson pictures himself in an apron, holding a pan, accidentally setting something on fire while a girl falls in love with him over ramen. He decides he likes that visual.

“Or,” she continues, “you could try going places alone. No entourage. No back-up dancers of doom. Just you.”

“Alone?” he repeats, like she’s suggested exile.

“Yes.”

“Do I at least get a good outfit?”

“Absolutely,” she says. “But no parties.”

He groans, dragging his hands down his face dramatically. “This is oppression.”

The therapist smiles. “It’s character development.”

He stares at the ceiling again, processing. Somewhere in the distance, a future version of him flips his hair in slow motion and thanks her. Present him, however, is still grieving.

After a few moments of theatrical suffering, Jackson sits up, elbows on his knees, hands clasped. He looks oddly serious for once.

“So what do I do,” he asks, “when the next girl asks me if I know Jungkook?”

The therapist considers this. “You tell her yes.”

He looks offended. “Doctor.”

She holds up a hand. “You tell her yes… and then you say, ‘But you’re talking to me right now.’ And you keep talking. You give yourself a chance in your own conversation.”

He blinks. “That’s… kind of smooth.”

“You’re welcome,” she says.

He leans back again, thinking. For the first time, he imagines a scenario where the girl doesn’t pivot away from him like he’s the customer service line to someone else’s heart.

Jackson leaves the session with one new affirmation, typed aggressively into his Notes app with a little sparkle emoji next to it:

I am more than a gateway to Jungkook.

His new goal? Make a girl fall in love with him before the next semester. Not with the parties. Not with the guest list. Not with the ‘oh yeah, I know him.’

With him.

With the guy who accidentally cries at animated movies, makes terrible late-night sandwiches, cares too much, overthinks everything, and still shows up anyway.

Godspeed, Jackson Wang.

He schedules another therapy appointment on his way out. He knows he’ll need it.

──✶ main masterlist

Jackson patted Jaebeom’s head and the staffs that filled the room tried to continue with their duties, but also be mindful of 7 crying and sobbing men in the centre of that room. Your gaze shifted to sobbing Mark and the way teared up Youngjae and Bam tried to calm him down. At least this view wasn’t tearing your heart into pieces. As a figure approached you, though, you had to readjust your eyes and focus on the man in front of you. The very next moment Jinyoung’s very warm hand grabbed yours and pulled you behind him. He felt your resistance and turned around, reading your face expression perfectly.

"I think he really needs you to calm him down." Jinyoung pulled onto your arm once again and you followed. "Hey, Seunah" Jinyoung called out in an attempt to whisper, but making it more of a low growl. Jackson, raising his head and seeing Jinyoung pulling on to you took a step back. Giving you space to come closer and giving you two space for privacy. Jaebeom raised his head a little, as he felt the loss of contact and took a few blinks to focus his teary eyes on you. Both Jackson and Jinyoung respectfully took a few more steps back and as you approached Jaebeom a little more, you couldn’t hold back a pout. Jaebeom straightened his back properly and it seemed the tears streamed down his face at a much lower pace. You pursed your lips and took a little step closer, not forgetting precaution and turning around to read the room - everyone seemed busy with themselves and their duties. But in all honesty - you couldn’t just stand and watch him any longer, even if the people watched you two attentively - your heart ached the moment you saw that first tear fall down his face back on stage. 

“You did so well-.“ You still whispered, everyone acted busy, but peoples’ ears were always perked up. Jaebeom blinked more tears down his face. Shit, you only made it worse for him. “Everything went so perfectly. You worked so hard. I’m so proud. These should be happy tears, everything worked out amazing. Right?“ you tried to give Jaebeom a smile, your words only made the tears fall down harder, while Park Jinyoung expected you to do the opposite. “Ah-, love, don’t cry.“ You finally sighed and reached a hand to his face, cupping his cheek and making a lame attempt at catching the teardrops - it did seem impossible. The waterfall that streamed down his face was impossible to stop with a finger. Jaebeom leaned in into your touch and closed his eyes. You tried to caress the softness of his cheek, while not making it too inappropriate for a working environment. “Everyone’s so proud and everyone are so thankful for the things you do. You’ve put so much hard work into this, it’s okay to cry. I can’t even hold back my tears for you and ah-.“ Jaebeom suddenly draped his arms over your shoulders and lost his face in the crook of your neck. You patted his nape in a very weak attempt to calm him down. He seemed crashed, drained and exhausted. You really wished you could lift him up just like that and transfer to bed and let him get as much sleep as he needed - doesn’t matter if its 12 hours or a week. You watched him work so hard all these weeks to make the concerts possible, you watched him all those years make all those things possible while also being a sweet and loving husband to you. “I just hope it’s tears of relief. As long as they’re not tears of pain - it doesn’t matter. We could cry all night long, right?“ You tried to give him a little kiss, forgetting all the work space boundaries in your head, landing your lips on his jaw. You patted his nape a few more times, moving your arms lower - you gave his waist a squeeze and rubbed your face against his shoulder - the sobbing man in your arms seemed to calm down at least a little. 

“I love you.“ you breathed out, somehow in unison with Jaebeom and as shocked as you were at the silly little coincidence, Jaebeom moved back a little and looked at you properly, with no tears falling out of his eyes,  beautiful irises focusing on you. 

“That’s silly of us.“ You giggled, moving your fingers to dry out the tears on Jaebeom’s cheeks. 

“But I, definitely love you more.“ He even made a weak attempt to smile and made you feel more at ease yourself. The air suddenly felt lighter and the second time he tried to make that little smile - the smugness on his face, your chest burned with love. Jaebeom covered your palm with his and moved it closer to his mouth. “I wouldn’t be here without your support.“ You knew exactly what he meant by that, how hard it was for both him and you to get his mind to a better place. You weren’t about to shy away and act like you weren’t behind it all. In a great partnership with the man himself, of course. 

“I know.“ You accepted with a playful nod and watched his lips give your palm a kiss with a smile. You were glad you could refer to dark times with a joke and a smile now. Jaebeom let go of your arm and tried to dry his face with the shirt he wore. 

“Ah!“ Jinyoung materialised behind you, his firm palm on your shoulder making you jump in place. “Nothing like a wife’s touch that could calm a man down.“ He teased happily, wrinkles round his eyes as he smiled were the reason for a little upward motion on the corners of your lips. 

“Sh! Shut up, there are strangers in this room.“ you hissed at the man, feigning annoyance. Jinyoung ruffled your hair with a teasing face expression.

“Hey, show some respect.“ you played back, your unending battle of teasing continuing every time you opened your mouths.

“Right, show some respect to my wife!“ Jaebeom chimed in, regret on his face immediate, as the both of you knew the comeback would be explosive. Jaebeom wrapped an arm around your waist, you not being sure whether he was backing you up or wanted you to back him up in this.

Jinyoung, though, already moved on -  looking at the members and then at his leader and giving you nod. 

You barely remembered the train ride home. The lights felt harsher than usual, every hum and screech of the rails cutting through your skull. People stared, maybe they didn’t but humiliation burned through your skin. You could still hear Jaebeom’s words from the hallway. “You got played.” paired with Jinyoung’s smug laugh. It felt like someone was twisting a knife in your stomach. 

Your phone buzzed in your hand. 

Gyuri: Do you want me to come over?

Y/N: No. If you do, I'll breakdown even more. I just need to breathe. 

You sent your reply quickly. 

The next morning at the courthouse you walked in with your head down. Barely entertaining Jackson’s bubbly chatter. It didn’t matter how composed you looked in your blazer and skirt. Inside you felt raw. Your heels echoing as you sat down in your chair and you felt it. Jaebeom’s eyes across the room, a brief flicker before he looked away.

He still hadn’t tried to speak to you yet. Somehow that made it worse. Even as weeks went by and cases piled up nothing was said. The most you got was transcribing his arguments, fingers stiff every time his voice filled the room. He was sharp, ruthless and brilliant. Yet you still focused on the way his jaw flexed when he disagreed, and how his tie always matched his jacket. What you really hated the most was how you remembered the feeling of his hands on your hips. 

He still hasn’t spoken to you. Just soft glances without words after dropping that nuclear level bomb.  It unnerved you more than his words when he looked at you because that glance was familiar. It was full of regret. 

One afternoon, Judge Tuan dismissed the court early. You were gathering your things as you heard it. Jinyoung’s voice low but still seeping through the hallway. “You’re pathetic, Jaebeom. I thought you’d enjoy breaking her spirit. I never thought you’d fall for it.” 

You froze behind the doorframe. The words chilling you from the inside out. 

“Shut up.” Jaebeom muttered. His tone wasn’t cold this time. It was sharp but frayed at the edges. “It was supposed to be simple… but she’s different.” 

Jinyoung laughed. “Different?… She’s just another woman that’ll trip you up if you let her. Trust me, I know.” 

You couldn’t breathe. The hallway swarmed as the rest of the courtrooms got out. You realized as everyone else was buzzing Jaebeom didn’t deny it but he also didn’t play along with Jinyoung. 

That night your phone buzzed. 

Attn. Jaebeom: Please let me explain.

Attn. Jaebeom: I know you overheard.

You kept staring at the message, circling back to it for an hour before deciding to throw your phone on your bed. You didn’t reply. Not yet, because explanations weren’t enough. Not after what he’d done to you. 

That’s why you kept your focus where it was. Work, home and friends. Repeat. 

That’s why you didn’t mean to linger. The case was over, your files were tucked neatly under your arm and you were ready to vanish for the day. At least before Jaebeom or Jinyoung caught your eye. As you stepped into the hallway their voices filtered into the hallway from the half closed door of the conference room. You froze.

“…you should’ve seen her face.” Jinyoung’s laugh was low and cruel. “God, she’s still so easy to manipulate. She hasn’t changed one bit.” 

Your stomach dropped as you listened. 

“She’s not stupid.” Jaebeom muttered. His voice was strained, borderline defensive.

“Oh come on,” Jinyoung scoffed. “She’s a glorified secretary with a keyboard. Do you really think she understands half the shit we argue in there? She’s lucky she even gets a seat in the courtroom. And you—“ His time sharpened. “You’re wasting your time feeling guilty. She’s beneath us, Jaebeom. Always has been and always will be.”

Your body froze and insides twisted so fast you thought you were going to get sick. You’ve heard Jinyoung belittle you before but never with this much venom, never so smug with certainty that you were less. You pressed your back against the wall, finger nails digging into the heels of your palms. Then Jaebeom’s voice came again, quieter this time and certain. “Don’t talk about her like that.” 

Something twisted more inside of you. A small, desperate part of you wanting to cling to those words. But the rest of you, the larger and angrier part was still being seared with humiliation. 

You slipped away before they could see you. Your heels clicking down the stairs, each step steadier than the last. By the time you reached the lobby your hands were shaking. Not in anger but with determination. 

That night, you spread your textbooks across the table. LSAT books you ordered when you were with Jinyoung. Back when the thought of going to law school was a whisper of rebellion to you. They’d gathered dust in the corner of your apartment, unopened. Not anymore.

You took a deep breath as you began to focus. There was no holding back this time. The prep books became a ritual for you. One in your bag at all times. Taking notes in the courtroom cafeteria or scribbling down a case for yourself to write out on the subway. The exhaustion was heavy but different. This time it wasn’t from being diminished but from finally building yourself up. 

You kept it quiet. Gyuri knew. Jackson suspected but it never got out into the courthouse. You wouldn’t dare speak of it as Jinyoung’s shadow stalked the halls. 

One evening you finally decided to sit down in an empty office. A stack of flashcards in front of you and open notebooks scattered around the table. 

“Law school, huh?” 

You looked up, startled by the sudden voice. Jaebeom stood in the doorway, sleeves rolled up and jacket off. His usual sharp presence was softened by the paper cup in his hand and the tired look in his eyes. Your throat tightened at the sight of him. “Eavesdropping again?” You muttered, starting to collect your things. 

“I wasn’t trying to.” He spoke quickly, moving into the room more. “I just…overheard you talking to Jackson about signing up for the LSAT. Congratulations.” 

The words scraped against your chest. Congratulations. From him. You crossed your arms, closing yourself off from him. “Why do you care?” 

For the first time since you walked away from him, his expression cracked. Not smug or calculating. Just earnest. “Because I think you’d be good. Better than good. You already catch things in transcripts that half of these lawyers miss.” 

You blinked at his words, pulse growing unsteady. “I know I don’t have the right to encourage you,” he added, his voice softening more. “But Jinyoung was wrong about you. Completely wrong. I hate that I let myself be part of making you doubt that.” 

The silence stretched. You wanted to cut him down, remind him that apologies don’t erase betrayal. “Why are you telling me this?” Your own question slipped out.

He exhaled, slow and steady as he was readying to respond. “Because, you deserve someone in your corner. And I mean it.”

You hummed in response to his words. Not much else to be said. Jaebeom cleared his throat, watching the way you gathered yourself back up and continued like he was never there. He read the room with ease as he slipped out of the room, continuing his own schedule.

You stayed later than usual. The courthouse mostly emptied except for a few of the night staff. Your flashcards spread across the table as you tapped your pen on the pad of paper next to you. Your brain feeling like mush from the logic game you were trying to play.

“You’re circling the same one for the third time.” Jaebeom stood at the doorframe.

You stiffened at his sudden return. His jacket in one arm, tie loosened. He looked more like a man at the end of a long day than the shark he usually is in the courtroom. Still, your hand covered your flash cards, pulling them into your body. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” He retorted as he moved into the room more. He didn’t sit until you vaguely gestured at the offer. He lowered himself into the chair, careful to leave an ample amount of room. Silence hummed as you went back to jotting down notes. 

Your pulse uneven as he reached over you. Picking up a flashcard before you could stop him. “Logical reasoning.” He sounded amused before carefully placing the card in front of you. “You got this one wrong though.” 

Your jaw clenched at his words. “You don’t have to—“ 

“Relax.” He carefully slid the card back to you. “You’re overthinking conditional statements. Here—“ He picked up your pen, quickly drawing out a new diagram. His handwriting, quick and neat. “It’s just substitution. You already knew the answer. Just talked yourself out of it.” 

You stared at the paper, soaking in the diagram he carefully drew out. “You shouldn’t be helping me.” Your voice was soft.

“Why not?” His voice was low and calm.

“Because this—“ You vaguely gestured between the two of you. “Can’t be fixed with study tips.”

His jaw flexed. For once, he didn’t argue. He just nodded, setting down your pen. “You’re right. It can’t be. I just…don’t want you doubting yourself because of him. Or because of me.” 

The honesty behind his voice disarmed you more than his diagram. You shifted in your chair to face him, crossing your arms over your body. “You think one pep talk is going to erase what you did?”

“No.” His gaze didn’t waver. “I think if you let me, I can prove I’m not him. But that’s up to you and if you want to let me in.”

The air between you suddenly felt heavy. You wanted to snap at him, tell him to leave but instead you turned back to the card. Your cheeks hot as you stared at the lines. “Fine. One more question then you’re out of here.” 

A faint smirk tugged at his lips. Not smug or mocking but the ghost of relief dancing on his face. “Deal.” 

The courthouse buzzed louder the next morning. A high profile case was scheduled and half the legal district seemed to be involved. You tucked yourself into a corner near the clerk’s desk, laptop hugged to your chest. That’s when you heard the cut of Jinyoung’s laughter echoing through the crowded halls. It was sharper this time. You knew it was directed at you.

“Funny.” He taunted as he walked to the desk you found refuge at. “I heard you’re wasting your nights playing pretend lawyer.” 

The grip on your laptop tightened. “It’s called studying.” You held your ground.

He tilted his head, eyes glinting at the admission from you. “Studying for what? You’ll never make it. Do you have any idea of the kind of people who survive law school? They don’t crumble after one failed relationship. They don’t sit in the corner and type other people's words.” 

His words hit like strikes. Each one echoing an insecurity that you carried. Your chest burned as your brain tried to scramble together words to say back. Before you could respond another voice cut it.

“Enough.”

Jaebeom. His voice was sharp, protective, nothing like the usual cold detachment when he spoke with Jinyoung before. He stepped between your bodies, shoulders squared. 

“Look at you. Playing guard dog now?” Jinyoung scoffed.

“I’m not letting you talk to her like that.” Jaebeom shot back. 

You blinked, stunned at the sudden protection. The hallway had gone quiet around you, clerks and interns pretending to not listen in. 

Jinyoung's smile turned cruel. "So she really did get under your skin. Pathetic." His eyes flicked to you, dripping disdain. "You'll never be more than a distraction."

You swallowed hard, your voice shaking but steady enough to get the words out. “Watch me."

The words left your lips before you could think.

They rang louder in your ears than the buzzing fluorescent lights, louder than the thud of your heart. For the first time in months, Jinyoung looked caught off guard.

And Jaebeom... looked at you like you'd just proven his point. 

You thought that was the end. Both of them separating after a few scowls but leaving it at that. Nothing that would get in the way of the work presented to them.

The case went on like normal yet the second day felt oddly unsettling. The air was charged and intense, the kind of silence that prickled your skin before the judge could even enter. You sat at your stenotype, adjusting your laptop as you tried to hide your nerves. 

The door opened only making your heart rate spike. Jinyoung walked in. Impeccably dressed, smug as ever with his client trailing behind. He walked with the same confidence that used to undo you. As if he owned every set of eyes in the room. 

Jaebeom walked in moments later. His jaw was set, tie slightly askew. It wasn’t sloppy but unpolished in a way that made him look raw and ready. When he caught Jinyoung’s eye something passed between them. A dare. 

“Case of the people vs. Han.” Judge Tuan began once everyone was seated. “Defense and prosecution, please proceed.” 

Your fingers started to dance across the keys. Jinyoung rose first. His voice was smooth and deliberate. Painting the defendant as a menace. He worked the jury with ease. Laying out the evidence with his signature smug cadence. Every word was sharp and calculated. 

The Jaebeom stood. His tone cut differently. It was low, steady and cut out the theatrics. “The prosecution wants you to believe this is an open-and-shut case. But facts don’t bend to ego.” His gaze flicked to Jaebeom’s for just a second. Your chest tightened at the gesture.

Jaebeom continued. Pulling out evidence that Jinyoung glossed over. Cross-referencing time stamps, pointing out the inconsistencies. It wasn’t just smart. It was surgical and every time Jinyoung objected, Judge Tuan overruled. The flicker of irritation playing with Jinyoung’s patience.

“Your honor, the defense is deliberately wasting the court's time—“ Jinyoung’s composure cracked as he couldn’t hold back anymore. 

“No,” Jaebeom cut in, his voice ringing across the room. “What wastes this court’s time is twisting the truth for your own pride. My client deserves better than your shortcuts.” 

The silence that followed was thunderous. Even the jury was shifting, glancing between the two men. 

Your fingers were moving as fast as they could, recording every word, but your heart was pounding in your throat. You saw Jinyoung pushed back on his own turf. A sight that seemed unheard of and like a myth. And Jaebeom wasn’t just defending a client. He was drawing a line in the sand. 

By the time Judge Tuan called recess, Jinyoung’s jaw was clenched so tightly his cheek twitched. He swept past your desk without a word. A trace of his cologne following, leaving that sharp and sour scent in your nose for a moment. 

Jaebeom lingered. His eyes flicked toward you, just for a moment. They weren’t seeking forgiveness, not smug or searching. He was looking at you like he just said “this is who I really am.”

Break image here lololol

You only meant to grab your notes that were accidentally left behind in the clerk's office. The courthouse was winding down for the day, most of the staff already gone. The echo of your heels followed you through the corridor until you froze hearing those familiar voices. 

“…What the hell was that?!” Jinyoung’s voice was sharp and furious.

You froze hearing it. Body inches from the half opened door.

“That,” Jaebeom  began to answer, his tone low and tight. “Was me doing my job. Defending my client.”

“No,” Jinyoung snapped. “That was you undermining me. In front of the jury. In front of her.”

Your chest tightened as you listened in.

“She doesn’t have anything to do with this,” Jaebeom bit back. 

Jinyoung laughed, humorless. “Oh but she does. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the way you look at her. You’re pathetic. Letting some court reporter get into your head like that? She’s nothing, Jaebeom. Nothing.”

Your nails dug into your palms, trying to force yourself steady.

“She’s not nothing.” Jaebeom’s voice cracked with force, like he’s been holding those words back. “And you’re not going to talk about her that way again.”

A heavy silence followed. You could practically feel the weight of it pressing against the thin wood of the door. Then Jinyoung’s voice dropped, dark and venomous. “Careful. You’re choosing the wrong side. Don’t forget who gave you your first shot in this district. Who vouched for you when nobody else would.” 

“I don’t owe you my soul,” Jaebeom’s voice was firm. “Not anymore.”

Your breath caught, somewhere between terror and something dangerously like relief. You finally heard it now. Jaebeom wasn’t going to be Jinyoung’s shadow anymore. 

Jinyoung already knew it.

You didn’t make a sound. You carefully slipped away from the clerk’s office as quietly as you could. Your heels barely brushing the marble floors. The words you listened to clung to you, heavier than anything that had been pressed to your chest. 

She’s nothing. Jaebeom. Nothing.

She’s not nothing.

By the time you reached your apartment your body felt like it had been carrying a backpack full of lead. You tossed your bag onto your counter and sank into your couch. Pulling your knees in as if to protect yourself from the repeated words playing in your head. 

For the first time in weeks you didn’t open your LSAT prep books. You just sat there in the ringing silence. Hearing Jinyoung’s venom and Jaebeom’s defiance. You should’ve felt grateful that he defended you. That he pushed back but all you felt was raw. Confused. If he meant those words then that meant the same man that betrayed you was clawing upwards to his redemption. 

You weren’t sure what to do with that. 

Your phone buzzed on the cushion beside you. A temporary pause in the echoes. 

Attn. Jaebeom: I know I don’t deserve your trust. But I do need you to know I’m done with him. 

You stared at the message as your screen dimmed before the next one came in.

Attn. Jaebeom: If you’ll let me, I want to prove it. Not just with words but actions.

You pressed your lips together, thumbs hovering the keyboard. You wanted to demand answers, to lash out, to tell him everything you had heard. Instead, you set the phone down and curled back into the couch. Resting in the silence.

For now at least. 

You should’ve known he wouldn’t let it go. Jinyoung never did. 

The courthouse lobby was busy as usual. Attorneys crowding the marble steps, interns rushing with papers stacked in their arms. You just finished handing your transcripts over when his voice slithered under your skin.

“Still playing law student?”

Your shoulders locked, yet you didn’t turn not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Jinyoung stepped closer, his cologne sharp and his words low so only you could hear.

“I think it’s cute, you know. This little fantasy of yours. Sitting up at night with your highlighters and pretending you’re anything more than background noise.” He leaned in, his breath hot next to your ear. “Jaebeom might play along, but we both know you won’t survive in a courtroom. You’ll burn out before midterms.”

Your nails dug into the folder in your hands. Your breath shallow as his words burned like a hot iron. The crowd around you blurred, your stomach twisting with rage and humiliation. 

“Back off.” Another voice cut through. Strong and firm. 

Jaebeom.

He wedged himself between you and Jinyoung. His broad shoulder squaring, his glare sharp enough to cut through the marble. “You don’t get to talk to her like that.”

Jinyoung smirked, cocking his head to the side. “What’s this? Knight in shining armor routine? Careful, Jaebeom. She’ll drag you down with her.” 

“She’s not dragging anyone.” Jaebeom snapped. “You’re just pissed she doesn’t fold under you anymore.” 

The words landed like a slap. The crowd that had been buzzing nearby went quiet. Lawyers and clerks pretended like they weren’t listening in. Jinyoung’s jaw twitched, a flicker of anger breaking through the mask. You pressed your lips together, your heart pounding, heat crawling up your throat. For once, Jinyoung had no smug follow-up. He turned on his heel, muttering something sharp under his breath as he stormed toward the exit. Leaving you and Jaebeom in the sudden quiet.

You exhaled shakily. Realizing you’ve been gripping the folder so bad the corners were now bent. “You didn’t have to…” You started.

“I did.” His voice was lower, much softer now. Though his stance was still tense from the confrontation. He turned just enough to look at you, no smugness in his gaze. Only a steady, protective certainty. 

For a moment the words were stuck in your throat. “Thank you.” Finally slipped past your lips in a whisper.

His shoulders loosened, the faintest flicker of relief crossing his face. He gave you a soft nod, as if he was afraid anything more would scare you off. Yet you saw it. The way the edges of him softened at your gratitude. The way he seemed to breathe easier, just knowing you let those words out.

You weren’t sure what compelled you to stay in the courthouse that evening. The case had wrapped up early, your transcripts already finalized and handed in. The breakroom was nearly empty. Still, you found yourself sitting at the table with your LSAT book open and a pencil idly rolling between your fingers. 

The door creaked open as Jaebeom walked in. He froze for a second, like he was surprised you were actually still there. Then lifted the paper cup in his hand. “Decaf,” he said, setting it down in front of you.

“You…brought me coffee?” You blinked. 

“Figured you’d be here. You always are lately.” His mouth tugged at the corner, not quite a smile but more of an admission. You looked down at the cup, the warmth seeping through the cardboard and into your palms. 

“Thanks.” You spoke softly. 

He sat across from you. Jacket slinging over the chair. There was silence, just the faint scratch of your pencil on paper as you jotted down notes. You expected him to start lecturing you on how you were overthinking, but it never came. He just sat there next to you in silence. 

You sighed, tossing the pencil aside. “Alright. If you’re going to hover, the least you could do is make yourself useful.” You slid your book in front of him. “Quiz me.”

His brows rose as he looked at the page in front of him. He didn’t argue as he flipped through pages. “Okay… conditional reasoning. If all athletes are disciplined and some disciplined people are writers—“ 

“Then some writers could be athletes.” You cut in, finishing his words as you leaned back. 

“Correct.” His lips curved into the faintest smile. 

You tried not to notice the warmth in your chest, the way his approval made your skin tingle. Another question and another answer. Slowly, the tension between you softened. 

“See?” He said after a moment, his voice low and almost teasing. “You’re already better than half the first-years I knew.”

You rolled your eyes, lacking the usual annoyance. “Flattery still won’t erase everything.” 

“I know.” He set the book down. His gaze meeting yours. “I’m not trying to erase it. Just trying to prove I can be better than it.”

You didn’t look away from him as your chest tightened. Your guard wavering enough. “…You’re doing a decent job so far.” You let the words slip. The silence afterwards wasn’t awkward, it was tentative…warm.

You both sat in that comfort for a beat too long. You cleared your throat and looked over at him. "I should probably head home…" Your voice was quiet. Almost hesitant to say the words outloud.

Jaebeom watched as you collected your belongings, carefully putting them into your bag. You gave him a half smile as you got ready to leave.

"I'll text you, okay?" Jaebeom spoke up. His voice soft, the words like a promise. You couldn't bite back the smile as the door shut behind you.

You’d been staring at your phone for ten minutes. His message sat there waiting for a response, your phone buzzing again to remind you of his words waiting.

Attn. Jaebeom: Don’t stay up too late studying. You’ll burn yourself out before the test. 

Normally you’d lock the screen, shove your phone deep in your bag. Pretending like you didn’t see anything. That had been your pattern since everything had exploded. His words were now floating in the void, awaiting an answer that you wanted to send. 

It felt different tonight. Maybe it was because he’s been staying late to help quiz you. His demeanor always patient and steady, never pushing. Maybe it was the image of him standing between you and Jinyoung. His shoulders tense and voice sharp with protection. 

Your thumb hovered before they started to move almost against your own will. 

Y/N: You sound like Jackson. Always telling me to take breaks.

You froze, heart racing as it climbed up your throat. Your thumb trembling as you hit send. The three dots appeared almost instantly.

Attn. Jaebeom: I’ll take that as a compliment. He’s a good guy 

You bit your lip, fighting back a smile as you read his next message.

Attn. Jaebeom: But I’m serious. You’re allowed to breathe. You don’t have to prove yourself every second of the day. 

You stared at the screen, a warm feeling spreading through your chest. He didn’t mean it like Jinyoung said it in the past. It wasn’t condescension wrapped in sugar. He meant it. Plain and honest. 

Y/N: Easier said than done. But thanks.

There was a pause in messages. Those three dots appearing and disappearing over and over. 

Attn. Jaebeom: That’s all I want. A chance to show you I mean what I say. 

Your pulse quickened at his words. You knew he meant it, even behind the screen. It was the first time since the betrayal that you didn’t have the urge to shove him away. As you curled up under your blanket you let your mind wander. The idea of feeling like it might be worth giving him another chance looping around. 

It was past midnight before your phone buzzed again.

Attn. Jaebeom: Still awake?

You chewed your lip. Staring at the LSAT prep work notes scattered around your bed. 

Y/N: Yeah. Studying. What has you still awake?

Attn. Jaebeom: Case files. Though I’d rather be reading what you’re working on. 

Your brows arched from his slightly bold text.

Y/N: Careful. Sounds like you’re offering to tutor me.

Attn. Jaebeom: Only if you’ll let me. You’re stubborn as hell. 

You couldn’t help the laugh that slipped out. You pictured him in his apartment. Hair messy, tie undone and most likely scowling at case work between messages. 

Y/N: You’re not wrong. But you’re also not easy yourself.

Attn. Jaebeom: I know. I’ve been trying to change that for you.

The words felt heavy to read. You swallowed, fingers hovering as you sent your message without hesitation. 

Y/N: You’re doing better.

His response came slower than usual. 

Attn. Jaebeom: You have no idea what that means to me.

Your chest tightened as your thoughts began to spiral again. You locked your phone before you could get to lost in the “what if’s”. Yet the warmth of his words lingered until sleep finally pulled you under.

The courthouse was buzzing as usual the next morning. You shuffled through until your eyes landed on him, making your stomach flutter. Last nights words clinging to you like smoke from a fire. 

He caught your gaze almost immediately. Normally, he’d give you a polite half-smile and move on. Today his eyes lingered, just long enough to make your cheeks heat up. You looked away first.

Later, you were in the clerk’s lounge, books open in the empty space. You were flipping through note cards as you heard the door open.

“Did you sleep after texting me last night?” His voice was lower, almost teasing. Even a softness you hadn’t heard in weeks was mixed in. 

You rolled your eyes, even as your lips twitched into a smile. He slid into the chair next to you. Setting a coffee down in front of you like it was routine. His tie was loose, his sleeves rolled up and your mind betrayed you. You thought of his messages last night and the image of him in his apartment texting you.

“Thanks.” You mumbled softly. Your fingers brushed the cup as you pulled it closer. 

“You’re welcome.” His gaze was steady, unreadable yet warm. “I meant what I said last night.”

Your heart stuttered as you forced yourself to keep eye contact. “I know.”

The silence grew over the two of you. Thick but not heavy. Suddenly, since everything had shattered it didn’t feel like war. It felt like the beginning of something fragile, unspoken but real.

The courthouse was closed now. Only the hum of the janitors vacuum echoing down the halls. You sat cross-legged at the break room table, LSAT book open and your eyes blurry from exhaustion.

“Still at it?”

You looked up quickly, startled by the sudden presence. Jaebeom leaned against the doorway. His jacket was gone, hair just slightly messy. He looked nothing like he does in the courtroom and more like …just Jaebeom.

“You’re one to talk.” You muttered, nodding at the stack of case notes in his arms. 

“Touché,” He smirked faintly as he placed them down on the table. 

“Quiz me. Before I pass out.” You sighed, pushing the flashcards towards him. 

He chuckled as he flipped through. His voice was gentle as he read you the questions, steady and patient. Even when you got tripped up he never was annoyed. You didn’t feel stupid under his gaze when you got something wrong. You just felt seen. After a while you leaned back, rubbing your temples. “I can’t listen to another sentence.” 

“Then don’t,” his tone was gentle as he put the cards on the table. “You’ve done enough for tonight.” 

The silence stretched, comfortable at first. Until you realized how close he was now. His elbows resting on the table as his eyes were on you. Not sharp, not guarded. Just steady. 

“What?” Your breath caught as you questioned him.

“Nothing.” His lips twitched as he was fighting back a smile. “You just…surprise me.”

“Is that a compliment?” Your cheeks flushed.

“It’s the truth.” He murmured. His gaze dipped to your lips before darting back up.  As if he hadn’t meant to let his eyes drop. 

Your heart stuttered. Neither of you moved, the air thick with all the words you didn’t say. You leaned forward slightly, body moving on its own. His breath brushing yours as his hand shifted on the table like he was going to close the distance. 

The squeak of the janitors cart squeaking past made both of you jump back. Your cheeks burning. Jaebeom cleared his throat, standing abruptly as he collected his notes. “You should get some sleep.” 

You nodded quickly, clutching onto your highlighter like it was the only thing to keep you grounded. “Yeah. You too.”

As you watched him leave you caught the ghost of a smile on his lips. The image never left your mind and when you got home, your fingers brushed past your lips. Wondering what it would’ve felt like if the moment hadn’t broken. 

You started to do what you always did when things got awkward. You avoided him. 

The next morning you buried yourself in transcripts. Refused to linger in the break room and left the courthouse without glancing towards his office. The memory of last night’s almost-kiss burned hot on your skin. The safest thing for you to do was pretend like it had never happened. Yet, pretending didn’t make the tension disappear.

By the third day, you were alone in the records room. Flipping through old, dingy boxes as the door opened. 

“Are you going to keep avoiding me?”

Your hand stilled on the folder in front of you. You didn’t need to turn to know the voice. Deep, steady and softer than you’ve ever heard it before. 

“I’m not avoiding you.” You mumbled as you pulled out another file. Needing something else to look at.

He stepped closer. His presence filling the small space. “Yes, you are. And I get it. But I’m not going to let what happened just sit there like it didn’t mean anything.” 

Your head turned to finally look at him. He looked tired. Tie loosened, hair falling into his eyes, shirt rolled up to his elbows. Yes his gaze was unwavering. 

“You can’t just—“ Your voice cracked and you swallowed, an attempt at regaining composure. “You can’t just act like one almost mistake makes up for everything else.” 

“I don’t think it does.” He quickly shook his head. “I don’t want to erase the past, Y/N. I just want to be better than it. For you.”

His words made yours lodge in your throat. Unable to escape and let them be heard by him. 

He stepped closer, leaving only a few inches between you. “You can hate me for what I did. You can keep your guard up. But don’t lie and say you didn’t feel it last night. Because I did.”

Heat spread to your cheeks as you held onto the folder tighter. “I—“ You broke off. His honesty was disarming, stripping you of every defense you thought you still had.

All you could do was stare at him for a moment. The air falling thick between you again. “I don’t know what to do with you.” You finally whispered. 

“Then let me show you.” His lips curved into a sincere, faint smile.

The week blurred by in long days and late nights. You buried yourself in LSAT prep and transcripts. Keeping your mind on anything to keep you busy. It didn’t matter too much because everytime you looked up there he was. Jaebeom watching you from across the courtroom, offering quiet encouragement in the break room, leaving coffee on your desk without a word. And everytime your walls cracked a bit more. 

By Friday evening, you were both the last ones left in the courthouse again. The break room light buzzed as you hunched over your prep books. Exhaustion fogging your brain.

“You’re doing it again.” Jaebeom’s voice was soft.

“Doing what?” You frowned.

“Pushing past the point where it helps.” He set his jacket down, rolling up his sleeves and slid into the seat across from you. “Let me quiz you. Just once more.” 

“Fine.” You sighed, pushing the books towards him. 

His voice was low as he read the questions. His eyes lifting every so often to meet yours. Every time they did something tightened in your chest. The air between you thickening in between answers. With each slip of a smile, until you could barely hear the words anymore. Finally, you dropped your pencil and rubbed your temples. “I can’t—my brain is fried.”

He closed the book gently, sliding it away from himself. “You’ve done enough.” 

The silence following stretched out. He leaned forward on his elbows. You felt his gaze on you, steady, warm and undoing every defense you spent weeks rebuilding. 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You mumbled.

“Like what?” 

“Like you—“ You swallowed, taking a moment. “Like you mean it.” 

His jaw tightened as he stood up. Moving slowly around the table until he was beside you, his hand gripping the back of your chair. “I do mean it.” He murmured. 

Your pulse thundered as you looked up at him. His face was so close now, eyes locked on yours waiting. Not pushing, or playing games just waiting. Something in you snapped. You lifted your body forwards, lips crashing into his. 

It was messy, desperate. Weeks of tension spilling over all at once. His hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer to him. His mouth hot and sure against yours. You clutched at his shirt. Your body trembling from the rush of finally giving in. You broke apart, breathless. His forehead resting on yours.

“Tell me this isn’t nothing,” he whispered, voice rough. 

“It’s not nothing…” Your chest heaved as you spoke. 

His lips curved into the faintest, trembling smile. Like your words have given him back air he didn’t realize he had lost. Before another word was said your lips crashed together again. The kiss burned into you, messy and urgent. Jaebeom’s hand slid from your neck to your waist and you stiffened. 

“Wait,” you whispered, breathless against his lips. 

His hands froze in place instantly. Pulling back from the kiss, just enough to look at your face. His chest rose up and fell hard. “Too fast?”

You nodded, swallowing hard. The urge to let him have you right there was strong. You had to force the words out of your mouth. “I don’t want to move too fast… Not again.”

He was silent for a moment. Making you brace yourself for disappointment and the sharpness that came with it. You were expecting the venom Jinyoung used to spit when you set boundaries. 

But Jaebeom just nodded. His hand slid away from your sides, leaving a ghost of warmth. “Okay,” he murmured. “We won’t.” 

Your chest tightened. His tone was still soft and he wasn’t disappointed. “You’re not…mad?” 

His brows furrowed, almost offended by the question. “Mad?” He shook his head. “I already told you. I want to be better than the past. That means moving at your pace. Not mine.” His voice was steady.

The sincerity in his eyes nearly unraveled you more than the kiss did. You let out a shaky laugh, pressing your palms into your face. “God. You make it really hard for me to stay mad at you.” 

“I can live with that.” He smiled softly. 

The silence that came over wasn’t heavy with tension this time. It was warm, fragile and something that felt alive. You stayed standing with him for a moment. Breaths brushing against one another’s. It took a while for you to finally collect your notes. “I should go. Before I change my mind.” 

He nodded, stepping back to give you the space to leave. “Text me when you get home?”

You hesitated—surprised by the question at first then nodded. “Yeah. I will.” 

The train ride home was a blur. Your lips still tingled, pulse still racing and every time you closed your eyes you felt the phantom of his lips on yours. By the time you slipped into your apartment your phone buzzed. 

Attn. Jaebeom: Did you make it home safe?

You bit back a smile as you dropped your bag on the floor. 

Y/N: Yeah. Just walked in.

Almost instantly you got his reply. 

Attn. Jaebeom: Good. I was trying not to imagine you falling asleep on the train again. 

You rolled your eyes, cheeks warming.

Y/N: That was one time.

Attn. Jaebeom: One time too many. Don’t think I’ve forgotten carrying your transcripts to the door because you nodded off. 

Your heart skipped a beat as you didn’t realize he remembered that night. Another buzz followed after a moment.

Attn. Jaebeom: I meant what I said earlier. I’ll wait. However long it takes. 

You stared at your screen. Your throat tight as you read the message. No push or pressure, just patience. 

Y/N: I don’t know what this is yet. But I don’t regret tonight. 

Attn. Jaebeom: Neither do I.

Attn. Jaebeom: Sleep well, Y/N. You deserve at least that much tonight. 

You smiled to yourself. The knot in your chest loosening as you pulled the covers up. Your fingers brushing your lips one last time before going to sleep.

The courthouse lobby was quieter than usual the next morning. You got there earlier than usual, hoping to find some time for prep time before the day started.

“Beat me to it.” 

You looked up to find Jaebeom walking in. A tray in one hand as his jacket was slung over his shoulder. He looked less sharp-edged than usual. The morning hour softening him. 

“You’re here early.” You muttered, tucking your LSAT book back into your bag. 

“So are you.” His lips quirked. He pulled one of the cardboard cups out of the carrier and slid it across the desk. “Thought you might want this.”

“You brought me coffee?” You blinked, then looked up at him surprised. 

“Don’t be so shocked.” He teased lightly. “I can be considerate.” 

The warmth of the cup seeped into your palms, chasing away the chillness of the morning. “Thanks,” You murmured, softer than intended. 

He leaned against the desk, watching you for a moment. “You look tired. Did you even sleep?” 

“Some.” You hesitated. “Better than I have in a while.” 

His gaze softened. As if he knew exactly why. You shifted a bit, fiddling with the top of your cup. “About last night…” 

“Y/N.” He cut in gently. “You don’t owe me anything. Not an explanation. Not an answer. Nothing.” His voice was gentle.

You nodded, soaking in his answer. “I just—“ You started, shaking your head with a smile small. “You’re really not making it easier for me to stay mad at you.”

Jaebeom smiled. A real one, small and almost shy. But real nonetheless. “I’ll take it.” He murmured.

You sipped your coffee, feeling the heat spread. Not just from the drink, but from the fragile thread of trust weaving its way back between you. 

He looked over at the notes you had spread out, observing them for just a moment. "Don't you have court?" You teased at him as he leered.

He snapped out of it, rolling his sleeve up just a little bit to check his watch. "I should go now."

"Good luck with your cases." You smiled at him.

"You too," his voice was soft as he walked out.

The day faded quick, cases you transcibed and ones you wanted to take note of for study later on. It felt like it went by in a blink of an eye, especially after not seeing Jaebeom again.

Your apartment was quiet, except for the faint hum of your desk lamp. Papers and flashcards were spread across the coffee table. A half-drunk cup of tea by your elbow. You’d been at it for hours, exhaustion making words blur again. You picked up your phone as the table buzzed from its notification. 

Attn. Jaebeom: Still awake?

Y/N: Barely. Why?

Attn. Jaebeom: Because I have case notes in front of me and can’t focus either. Want some company?

You hesitated for a moment. The late night and sudden invite felt intimate. It was personal and risky but you still responded. 

Y/N: Fine. But only if you promise to not laugh at my messy notes. 

You heard the knock about a half hour later and stood up. Carefully opening the door as Jaebeom stood there. A oversized hoodie and some sweatpants, his tote slung over his shoulder and a plastic bag in hand. He looked less like a lawyer and someone that looked like they belonged there. 

“I brought snacks.” He smiled, holding up the bag. 

You smiled softly, stepping aside to let him in. “How thoughtful.” 

He grinned softly, slipping in and placing the bag on your coffee table. Within moments he was sitting beside you, cross legged on the couch. He carefully flipped through your notecards like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

“Conditional reasoning again?” He raised a brow as he questioned. 

“Don’t start.” You reached for a chip, but he snatched the bag away. 

“Answer this one first.” He smirked. 

You groaned, tossing your pencil at him. “You’re insufferable.” But you answered anyway. His eyes softened with pride as you were right.

Hours slipped by like that. Questions, laughter and the occasional argument over who got the last chip. You leaned back against the couch cushions, too tired to sit upright. Your eyelids felt heavy, the words on your flashcards smearing together. 

You meant to keep going, meant to fight the fog in your brain. But the warmth of the light and the steady hum of Jaebeom’s voice was lulling you into a sleep you’ve yearned for.

“Y/N?” His tone was soft. 

You cracked one open to see him watching you. The corners of his mouth tugged up. “You’re nodding off.”

“M’not.” You mumbled, letting your head lean into the cushion more. 

He shook his head, chuckling under his breath. He shifted closer, plucking the pencil from your hands. “Yeah, you are.” 

You let out a sleepy laugh, titling your head towards him. He was so close to you now, the outline of his jaw catching in the lamplight. His cologne warm and familiar. You flushed as you realized how natural this felt. Him sitting next to you as you fight back sleep. 

“Jaebeom…” You whispered, voice rough from exhaustion. 

“Mm?”

Your eyes searched his face. Even half-asleep the question slipped out. “What if… I wanted you to stay the night?” 

His breath caught, hand pausing midair from where he was brushing chip crumbs off of your couch. 

“You’re tired. I don’t think you know what you’re trying to ask.” He spoke quietly, voice low and gentle. “You’re half-asleep.”

“I do,” you murmured. “I want you…” Your sentence trailed off in a yawn. Head tipping to the side until it nearly brushed his shoulder. He exhaled slowly, eyes softening at the sight. His hand hovered over yours, his thumb almost brushing your knuckles. Almost. 

Instead he reached for the throw blanket and laid it across you carefully. “Sleep.” He whispered. 

Your body sank into the cushions. The warmth of the blanket and his presence making it impossible to fight off. Your last flicker of awareness was the sound of him moving quietly around the room. Setting your notes in neat stacks, finishing your mug in the sink. It was sickeningly domestic.

When you drifted off you felt the faintest press of lips on your hair line. Yet when you woke the only trace of him was the note carefully folded on top of your phone. 

Didn’t want to leave without saying goodnight. I’ll see you tomorrow.

You sat up slowly, pressing your lips together as you tried to surprise the smile. Your LSAT books stacked in perfect piles, your mug upside down on the counter to dry out. Something in your chest loosened at the sight. He could’ve stayed. He could’ve pushed. He could’ve taken advantage of your tired confession. But he didn’t. Instead he covered you with a blanket, straightened your mess and left you a note.

You brushed your finger over the words “See you tomorrow” a few times. Admiring his gentle, neat handwriting as your chest tightened. You caught yourself smiling. 

The week was busy. Trial after trial crowding your schedule. Yet the weight didn’t feel like it was pressing down quite as hard. Jaebeom’s quiet consistency, stitching something fragile back into place.

“You’ve been looking…different lately.” Jinyoung’s voice hit like ice water to your lungs.

You stopped in the middle of the hallways. The folder of transcripts suddenly feeling so heavy in your hands. He was leaning against the wall outside the courtroom, arms folded. That sinisterly smug smirk on his face. 

“Stay out of my way, Jinyoung.” Your voice was flat but your chest was tightening.

He pushed himself off the wall, moving closer to you. His cologne sharp and suffocating. “Oh, don’t play ice queen. I know what this is. You’re glowing because of him.” 

You stiffened, unable to hold back a reaction as he smirked widened. 

“Jaebeom.” His voice dripped with disdain. “The loyal puppy who thinks he can save you. You really think he’s different? That he isn’t just another man that will get bored once the chase is over?” 

“You don’t know him.” Your nails dug into the folder.

“I know him better than you ever will.” Jinyoung hissed. “And I know you. You want to be seen. To be chosen. But let’s face it—you’re a distraction. You’re not cut out for law school, or the courtroom. You’ll burn out and when you do, he’ll realize you were never worth the time wasted.”

Your throat tightened. Fury pricking the corners of your eyes. 

“Enough.” Jaebeom’s voice cut in like clockwork.

Jaebeom’s shoulders were squared, features sharp. His presence was solid and protective. His glare fixed on the man he used to consider his mentor. 

“Pick on me all you want.” Jaebeom bit out. “But if I hear you talk to her like that again, I won’t just walk away. I’ll bury you in court.”

Jinyoung laughed, still sharp but brittle around the edges. “Look at you. Playing the hero.” His eyes flicked to you. “Just wait until he disappoints you like the rest of us.” Jinyoung turned in his heel, walking off. His shoes echoing on the marble. 

“You don’t have to keep saving me.” You whispered. 

“Yes, I do.” Jaebeom finally turned to look at you. “He doesn’t get to keep doing that to you. Not as I’m around.” His expression as softer now, but a fire still burning underneath. 

Your lips parted, words failing to come as quick as needed. You reached for him, the faintest brush of your fingers against his sleeve. “…Thank you.” You finally let it slip past your lips. 

His shoulders eased hearing the words. 

You didn't go straight back into the courtroom after Jinyoung stormed off. Your chest was still too tight, your hands trembling around the folder. Without a word, Jaebeom guided you away, down the quieter hall that led to the records room.

Once the door clicked shut behind you, the silence pressed in. You dropped the folder on the desk, pacing once, twice, before blurting out, "I hate him. I hate the way he talks to me, like l'm-" Your voice cracked. "Like I'm nothing."

"He's wrong," Jaebeom said immediately, voice steady, solid.

You shook your head, tears prickling hot at the corners of your eyes. "But what if he's not? What if I can't do this? What if I burn out, just like he said?"

Jaebeom stepped closer, his jaw tight, his eyes fierce. "Then you'll get back up. You're not weak, Y/N. You're the most stubborn, determined person I've ever met. You're already stronger than he'll ever give you credit for."

Your throat tightened. "You sound so sure."

"I am." His gaze didn't waver. "Because I see you. Every damn day. The way you work, the way you don't back down. You're already more than he'll ever be."

The words hit deeper than you expected, tearing through the doubt Jinyoung had left behind. Your shoulders sagged, your chest aching with relief and fear all at once. Slowly, you admitted, "It scared me. How much I wanted to believe you that night in my apartment.And it scares me now, because... I think I do."

Something in his expression cracked, softening into something raw. He lifted a hand - not touching yet, just hovering as if waiting for permission.

You swallowed, then nodded, ever so slightly.

His palm cupped your cheek, warm and steady, thumb brushing just under your eye. "Then believe me," he whispered.

For the first time, you let yourself lean into the touch. The tremor in your chest eased, replaced by something fragile but certain.

Your voice was barely audible. "...I do."

Weeks passed in a blur of study sessions, late-night texts, and quiet moments that had nothing to do with transcripts or trials. The sharp edges between you and Jaebeom had dulled, replaced with something tentative but real.

It wasn't fiery or reckless. It wasn't about stolen kisses in dark hallways. It was softer than that. A steady rhythm of patience, of him showing up, of you letting him.

He never pushed. When you leaned against his shoulder after too many hours of logic games, he just let you rest. When you nodded off mid-flashcard, he covered you with a blanket, never asking for more. When you needed space, he gave it.

And slowly, the fear you carried — the fear of being used, of being nothing, began to unravel.

You stood outside the testing center, your admission ticket crumpled slightly in your hand.

The air was cool, your stomach a knot of nerves that no amount of review could untangle.

"You'll do fine."

You turned at the sound of his voice. Jaebeom leaned against the railing, coffee in hand, his tie loose like he'd rushed straight from an early court filing.

"I didn't ask you to come," you said, though the words came out softer than you meant.

"I know." He handed you the coffee. "But I wanted to."

You wrapped your fingers around the cup, the warmth bleeding into your palms. "What if I screw this up?"

"You won't," he said simply.

"And if I do?"

"Then you'll take it again." He shrugged, lips tugging in a faint smile. "It doesn't change what you're capable of."

Your throat tightened. It was the certainty in his voice, the way he believed in you without hesitation, that almost undid you. The noise of the other students lining up around you faded. It was just him, steady and sure, standing where vou hadn't realized you needed him most.

You exhaled, tension easing from your shoulders.

"...Thank you."

He reached out, not bold, just brushing his knuckles against your hand where it clutched the cup. A small, quiet touch.

"You've got this," he murmured.

You smiled softly. His words made you have that fuzzy feeling he was good at making you feel and like maybe—just maybe, you could do this.

The email came late in the evening. You'd been refreshing your inbox for hours, heart stuttering every time a new notification buzzed on your phone. And then it was there.

LSAT Score Release.

Your hands trembled as you opened it, eyes scanning down the page - and when the number hit, your breath caught. Higher than you'd dared to hope. Not just passing. Solid. Strong.

For a long moment, you just stared at it, your chest rising and falling in quick, uneven bursts. And then your vision blurred.

Your phone buzzed.

Attn. Jaebeom: Still alive?

A laugh bubbled out of you, shaky and wet with tears. Your fingers flew before you could think.

Y/N: I passed.

The reply came instantly.

Attn. Jaebeom: Of course you did. Where are you?

You hadn't expected him to show up at your door, hair a little wind-tossed from the rush, still in his court clothes with the tie hanging loose around his neck.

The moment you opened the door, his eyes scanned your face. "Well?"

You held up your phone, the email still glowing on the screen, though your hand shook. "I did it."

The grin that broke across his face was the kind you'd never seen from him. Wide, unguarded, proud. He didn't even hesitate. He pulled you into his arms.

Your breath hitched against his chest, the tension in your body unraveling all at once. You clutched at his shirt, tears finally spilling, not just from relief but from everything you'd carried to get here. Every insult, every doubt, every scar Jinyoung had left.

Jaebeom's hand slid up your back, steady and warm, holding you tight. "I told you," he murmured into your hair. "I told you, you could do it."

You laughed through the tears, muffled against him. "God, you're insufferable when you're right."

"Get used to it." He chuckled, the sound low and soft.

You just stayed there for a moment, pressed against him, letting yourself lean into the warmth, the pride, the safety. And for the first time, you didn't feel like you had to prove yourself to anyone.

Because you already had.

The hug in the doorway stretched longer than you meant it to. When you finally pulled back, your cheeks were damp, your chest still tight, but the weight on your shoulders had lightened in a way you hadn't thought possible.

Jaebeom was still smiling, that wide, unguarded grin that made him look younger, softer. "We're celebrating," he said firmly.

"What, with court briefs and takeout menus?" You sniffled, laughing a little.

"Exactly." He reached into his pocket, holding up his phone. "Your choice. I'm buying."

You rolled your eyes, but the warmth in your chest only grew as you let him inside. Before long, the two of you were sitting on your couch with cartons of food spread between you, the coffee table cluttered with chopsticks and sauce packets.

It wasn't fancy. It wasn't loud. But it was perfect.

At one point, you leaned back against the cushions, belly full, laughter still clinging to your lips after Jaebeom's deadpan imitation of Judge Tuan's sigh. Your head tilted toward him without thinking, brushing his shoulder.

He went still for a beat, then let out a slow breath, shifting just enough so you were more comfortable. His arm rested along the back of the couch, not quite touching, but close enough you could feel the warmth radiating off him.

"Feels weird," you murmured, eyelids drooping.

"What does?"

"This." You gestured vaguely between you. "It's not rushed. It's not... complicated. It's just-" you exhaled, a smile tugging at your lips, "easy."

Jaebeom's voice was quiet, almost reverent.

"That's how it should've been from the start."

Silence settled, heavy but gentle. You shifted closer, letting your head rest against his chest. He stiffened for half a second before his arm slid around you, tentative but steady. Your fingers curled in the fabric of his shirt.

"Don't make this weird," you muttered, though your voice was already softer, sleepier.

He chuckled low in his throat. "Not weird. Just overdue."

The rhythm of his heartbeat filled your ears, grounding you. Your body relaxed fully for the first time in months, your breath syncing with his.

As sleep pulled at you, you felt him press a light, fleeting kiss to the top of your hair.

"Proud of you," he whispered, so quietly you almost thought you dreamed it.

And you fell asleep in his arms, safe, steady, and finally - finally - unafraid.

The first thing you felt when you stirred was warmth. Not just the blanket, but the solid weight beneath your cheek. You blinked your eyes open slowly, disoriented until you realized you'd fallen asleep on the couch. On him.

His chest rose and fell steadily under your ear, the soft rumble of his breath almost lulling you back under. He was still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled, tie discarded somewhere on the table. His head was tilted back against the cushion, eyes shut, lips parted just slightly in sleep.

You should've moved. Should've sat up before he woke and made things awkward. But instead, you stayed. Just for a moment longer.

When his arm shifted around you, tightening instinctively, your breath caught. His voice was low and rough from sleep. "You're awake?"

"Mm." You tilted your head up, finding his eyes blinking open. "Sorry. I didn't mean to..." You trailed off, gesturing vaguely at the fact that you'd used him as a pillow all night.

"Don't apologize. You were comfortable." He gave a small, drowsy smile.

The simplicity of it made your chest ache.

For a beat, the quiet lingered. Then he stretched, rubbing a hand over his jaw before glancing down at you again. "You know what we should do?"

"What?" you asked warily.

"Go out. After work today. For real." His lips quirked. "Drinks. To celebrate you passing."

Your stomach flipped. "Like... a date?"

His smile widened just slightly, though there was a softness in his eyes. "Like whatever you want to call it. Just you and me, no textbooks, no transcripts. Just... us."

Heat rose to your cheeks, but you didn't look away this time. "You're persistent, you know that?"

"Only when it matters," he said simply.

You let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head. "Fine. Drinks. After work."

His grin was unguarded, boyish, and it made something flutter deep in your chest.

For the first time, the idea of letting yourself fall for him again didn't feel terrifying. It felt inevitable.

You told yourself it wasn't a date. Just two coworkers celebrating a test score. But the second you walked into the dimly lit bar and saw Jaebeom waiting at a corner booth, sleeves rolled, drink already in hand, your stomach flipped.

He stood when he saw you, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. "You came."

"Of course I did," you said, sliding into the booth opposite him. "I passed, didn't I? This is my victory lap."

He chuckled, flagging the bartender with two fingers. "One lap, coming up."

The drinks flowed easier than you expected, nothing heavy. Just enough to blur the edges of your nerves. You found yourself laughing at his dry impressions of courtroom regulars, teasing him back, the banter bouncing comfortably between you like it always used to.

But then the conversation slowed, softened, as the bar around you dimmed with the hour.

"You know," he said quietly, swirling the last of his whiskey, "I wasn't lying when I told you l was proud of you."

Your throat tightened. You looked down at your glass, the warmth in your chest spreading faster than the alcohol. "You keep saying that like you think I don't believe you."

"Do you?" He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locked on yours, intense but steady.

The question lingered in the air, heavier than the music humming around you. You swallowed, nodding slowly.  "...Yeah. I do."

The corner of his mouth twitched, but he didn't look away. The silence between you thickened, charged, until you finally muttered, "Stop staring at me like that."

"Like what?"

"Like you want to kiss me."

His brows rose slightly, but instead of denying it, he murmured, "Because I do."

Your pulse spiked. You were already leaning in before you realized it, and then his lips brushed yours. Soft at first, testing, giving you every chance to pull back. When you didn't, the kiss deepened, slow and lingering, his hand ghosting along your jaw as if you might shatter under his touch.

The heat built fast, your body tilting closer, his fingers grazing the back of your neck. A quiet sound slipped from you before you could stop it, and he immediately pulled back just enough to whisper, "You okay?"

Breathless, you nodded. "Yeah. Don't stop."

Relief flickered across his face as he leaned in again, his lips pressing firmer now, your drinks forgotten on the table. The kiss was hungry but careful, each shift of his mouth asking permission, every brush of his thumb at your jaw steadying you.

When you finally broke apart, your cheeks were flushed, your chest heaving.

"I should take you home," he murmured, forehead resting against yours.

Your lips curved, shaky but certain. "Yeah. Before this turns into more than it should."

His chuckle was low, rough, but warm. "Your call. Always."

And as he walked you out of the bar, his hand brushing yours but never quite taking it, you realized the thing that terrified you most. You weren't just falling for him again. You already had.

The air outside the bar was cool, a welcome contrast to the warmth still humming in your cheeks. The city lights glowed against the pavement, headlights streaking by, laughter spilling faintly from open doorways.

Jaebeom walked beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed now and then. Neither of you spoke at first, the silence weighted with the kiss still fresh on your lips.

Finally, he glanced at you, his voice low. "You're quiet."

"So are you." You huffed a laugh.

"Trying not to scare you off," he admitted, and though his tone was light, there was something earnest beneath it.

You shook your head, looking down at the sidewalk. "You're not."

His hand brushed yours again. Not by accident this time. His pinky hooked around yours, just barely, tentative, waiting.

Your pulse jumped. Slowly, you turned your hand, letting your fingers slide into his.

He squeezed, just once, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. "Better."

You walked the rest of the way like that, hand in hand, the city noise fading into the background.

Every step felt steadier, the knot of doubt inside you loosening a little more.

When you reached your building, you paused at the door, reluctant to let go. "Thanks. For tonight."

"Anytime," he said softly. His thumb brushed over the back of your hand before he finally let it slip free. He leaned down just slightly, close enough that his breath ghosted your lips, but didn't close the gap. "Goodnight, Y/N."

Your chest ached with wanting, but you smiled.

"Goodnight, Jaebeom."

He lingered for a beat longer, like he hated to turn away, then finally stepped back, his smile warm and unguarded as he walked off into the night.

You stood there a moment, fingers still tingling where his had laced with yours, realizing that for the first time in a long time, you weren't afraid of what came next.

Jaebeom had asked, plainly this time: "Go out with me. A real date. No textbooks. No transcripts. Just US."

It wasn't rushed, wasn't decided in the haze of a late-night study session or after too many drinks. It was deliberate.

And for once, you didn't hesitate. You said yes.

He picked a small restaurant tucked away on a side street, dimly lit with warm lamps and soft jazz playing in the background. Nothing flashy, nothing that screamed lawyers in the city — just quiet, intimate, unassuming.

"You didn't strike me as the jazz type," you teased when the hostess led you to a table for two.

His lips quirked. "Don't let the courtroom suits fool you. I like quiet places."

"Explains the breakroom," you murmured, making him laugh — a real laugh, not the dry huff he usually gave.

The night unfolded easily. Dinner led to drinks, drinks led to lingering conversation. For the first time, you weren't talking about Jinyoung, or law school, or the cases that had tangled you together.

You talked about little things. Childhood memories, favorite music, the worst meals you'd ever had. He told you about the time he nearly burned his kitchen down trying to cook in college, and you laughed so hard your cheeks hurt.

There were quiet moments, too. The way his hand brushed yours on the table, tentative at first, then steady when you didn't pull away. The way his gaze softened when you spoke about your dreams, your plans, the things you wanted beyond just surviving the courthouse grind.

"You look happy," he said at one point, his voice low, almost reverent.

You blinked, cheeks warm. "I am."

And you realized it was true.

The city was quieter now, the streets glowing under soft yellow light. He walked beside you, his hand finding yours like it belonged there.

When you reached your door, the pause was inevitable — the air thick with the unspoken. He lifted a hand, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch feather-light.

"This feels different," you whispered.

"Because it is," he said simply. His thumb lingered against your cheek. "I don't want to rush it. Not this time. I just... want you to know I'm here. For as long as you'll let me be.”

Your throat tightened. You leaned forward, closing the space, your lips brushing his in a kiss that was slower than the ones before - not hungry, not rushed. Just steady, deep, sure.

When you finally pulled back, you didn't step away.

You stayed close, forehead against his, his breath mingling with yours.

"Feels like more than almost," you murmured, your lips curving.

His smile was small, but it reached his eyes.

"That's because it is."

It was late, the restaurant's warmth still lingering in your skin as you walked home hand in hand. But instead of heading straight to your door, you found yourselves on the small bench in the park across the street, the city hum fading into the background.

The silence stretched. Not uncomfortable, but charged, like he was weighing words he wasn't sure he should say.

Finally, Jaebeom exhaled, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. "You should know something. About me. About... why I ever listened to Jinyoung in the first place."

Your chest tightened, but you stayed quiet, letting him continue.

"When I first came into this district, he was untouchable. Everyone wanted his approval. He took me under his wing, gave me opportunities no one else would. And I..." His jaw clenched, his hand raking through his hair. "I let myself think loyalty meant doing whatever he asked. Even when it felt wrong."

The weight in his voice made your throat ache.

"I told myself it was just part of the job. That I was paying my dues." His voice dropped. "But then he made you part of it, and I-" He stopped, shaking his head. "I told myself I could keep it separate. That the nights with you didn't mean anything. That I was just doing what he wanted."

You swallowed hard, your heart twisting.

His gaze lifted to you, raw, unguarded. "But it wasn't nothing. It was never nothing. That's why it destroyed me when you walked out. Because you were the first thing l'd had in a long time that wasn't about him. And I threw it away."

Your breath hitched. The weight of his honesty pressed against you, heavy but real.

He leaned back, scrubbing a hand over his face. "I don't expect you to forgive me all at once. I just... I need you to know I regret it. Every damn day."

The vulnerability in his voice cut deeper than any smooth words ever could.

You reached out, hesitating only a moment before resting your hand over his. His knuckles twitched under your touch, but he didn't move.

"I believe you," you whispered.

His shoulders sagged, like your words had loosened a chain he'd been carrying. He turned his hand under yours, fingers curling carefully around your own.

The night stretched around you, quiet, fragile, but steady. For the first time, you felt like the distance between who he was and who he wanted to be wasn't insurmountable.

It was the first time, you let yourself believe this could be real.

Saturday afternoon sunlight spilled across your apartment, warm and golden. The smell of garlic and soy filled the kitchen as Jaebeom moved confidently at the stove, sleeves rolled, a dish towel thrown over his shoulder.

You leaned against the counter, watching him with an amused smile. "You're really trying to prove you can cook, huh?"

He shot you a mock glare over his shoulder.

"You're never going to let me live down the story about the college fire alarm, are you?"

"Not a chance."

He shook his head, but you caught the curve of a grin as he stirred the pan. The sight of him there. Casual, at ease in your space - made something inside you ache in a way you hadn't expected.

Dinner was simple but good, and after, the two of you ended up on the couch, side by side. He leaned back, one arm stretched lazily along the cushions behind you, while you tucked your legs up under yourself, wine glass balanced in hand.

The conversation drifted easily, laughter slipping in and out, silences that didn't need to be filled.

But as the evening settled deeper, you felt the question that had been clawing at you for weeks rising to the surface. The safety of the moment made it impossible to swallow back this time.

You set your glass down, turning slightly to face him. "Jaebeom."

He glanced at you, brows raised, eyes steady.

"Yeah?"

Your throat tightened, but you forced the words out.  "...What are we?"

The quiet that followed wasn't sharp. It was heavy, thick with meaning.

He sat up straighter, his expression sobering. There was no smirk, no hesitation. Just honesty.

"I've been waiting for you to ask," he admitted. His hand slid carefully down from the back of the couch, fingers brushing against yours. "I don't want to pretend anymore. Not about you. Not about us."

Your breath caught.

He held your gaze, voice steady. "I want to be with you. Not as some game, not as a mistake I have to fix. As your boyfriend. As the man who's here when you need him. If you'll let me."

Your heart hammered so loud you could barely hear the city beyond your window. Slowly, you turned your hand in his, letting your fingers thread together. “…l think I want that too."

His lips curved into the softest smile - small, but so genuine it made your chest ache. He squeezed your hand once, firm and certain, as if sealing the promise.

You weren't terrified of the answer.

The question lingered in the air between you, fragile and monumental.

"I think I want that too."

The words were barely out of your mouth before Jaebeom's expression softened, breaking into something raw, almost relieved. His thumb brushed over your knuckles once more, grounding you.

Then, in a voice low and careful, he asked, "Can I kiss you?"

Your pulse thudded in your throat. "...Please."

The kiss that followed wasn't hurried. His mouth pressed to yours like he'd been waiting for this exact moment - not desperate, but reverent, deepening only when you leaned into him. His hand cradled your jaw, thumb stroking gently along your cheekbone, steadying you even as your body trembled with want.

You clutched at his shirt, tugging him closer until his chest was flush against yours. His lips parted, tongue sliding slowly against yours, tasting, savoring. The low sound he made - half groan, half sigh - sent heat rushing to your core.

He shifted, guiding you gently into his lap. Your knees framed his thighs, his hands gripping your waist firmly but not possessively, holding you steady. You gasped at the contact, hips pressing down instinctively. The friction drew a guttural sound from him, his head dropping to your shoulder.

"Comfortable?" he rasped against your skin, his breath hot where his lips brushed your collarbone.

"Yes," you whispered, and when his mouth trailed down the curve of your throat, the word broke into a moan.

His hands slipped under your shirt, calloused palms dragging up the length of your torso with aching slowness. When he reached the edge of your bra, he paused, eyes searching yours.

"Tell me if you want me to stop."

Instead of answering, you grabbed his wrist and guided his hand higher. His breath caught, gaze darkening as his fingers curled around your breast, kneading gently. He bent to capture your nipple through the fabric, his tongue flicking over the sensitive peak until you arched into him, clutching at his shoulders.

"God, Y/N," he groaned, voice breaking, "you don't know what you do to me."

Your shirt was gone in the next breath, discarded somewhere on the floor. His eyes devoured you, not in hunger but in awe, like he couldn't believe you were really here, giving yourself to him.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, and the sincerity in his voice made your throat tighten.

Your fingers tugged at his shirt, impatient now.

"Off," you demanded, breathless. 

He chuckled, low and rough, but obeyed, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. His skin was warm under your palms, solid muscle shifting as you ran your hands over his chest, his back.

He kissed you again, harder this time, swallowing the small sounds spilling from you as his hands roamed your body, memorizing every curve. His mouth trailed lower, down your throat, across your chest, leaving hot, open-mouthed kisses that had your hips grinding against the hard length straining beneath his pants.

When he finally laid you back against the couch, hovering over you, his gaze locked on yours. His hair fell loose over his forehead, his breathing ragged. "Still okay?"

"Better than okay," you whispered, tugging him down to kiss you again.

The rest of your clothes disappeared slowly, deliberately, every piece shed with pauses for his hands and lips to explore, to savor, to worship. By the time he settled between your thighs, both of you were trembling from need, from anticipation, from the weight of what this moment meant.

He pressed into you slowly, inch by inch, his forehead resting against yours as he groaned your name. You gasped at the stretch, nails digging into his shoulders, but the burn melted into a fullness that made your toes curl.

"Tell me," he panted, voice tight, "do you want me to stop?"

"Don't you dare," you whispered, dragging him closer.

"Fuck, Jaebeom." You whined as he started to move carefully. He kept a pace with deep, steady thrusts as you moaned out. His hands gripped your hips tightly, restraint running through him as he tried to keep his thrusts slow.

"'s fucking tight." He grunted through gritted teeth.

"So good," You whimpered before his lips crashed onto yours. You kissed him back, matching his heat. "F-faster," you barely got out against his lips as he quickly met your request.

His hips hitting into yours as you cried out in pleasure. Your walls fluttering around his cock as he grunted. The pleasure built sharp and fast, every brush of his pelvis making you scream out his name.

"You feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this." He mumbled against your lips.

The living room filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin and the desperate whimpers that couldn't be contained by your lips on his. Your walls desperatly clenching down on his twitching cock.

"J-jaebeom." You stuttered. Nails digging into his shoulders, earning a groan from him.

You whimpered as his thrusts started to jackhammer into yours, desperately moving in ache of release. You cried out a gutteral moan as his fingers dug deeper into your hips.

"I'm gonna fucking cum," you cried out as your walls fluttered around him.

"That's it," he groaned, his pace turning sloppy. "Let go for me."

And you did. Crashing over the edge with a cry, your whole body trembling as heat consumed you.

He followed moments later, burying himself deep as he groaned your name into your shoulder, holding you tight like he never wanted to let go.

The world was quiet again, just the sound of your ragged breaths filling the room. Jaebeom lay half on top of you, his chest still heaving, but his arm was wrapped protectively around your waist, anchoring you.

"You okay?" he whispered against your hair, pressing the softest kiss to your temple.

"More than okay." You smiled weakly, exhaustion pulling at your limbs.

He sighed, his hand smoothing over your side in soothing strokes. "Good. Because I don't want this to be halfway, Y/N. Not with you."

You tilted your head, meeting his gaze. Your chest tightened at the raw honesty in his eyes. 

"Neither do I.”

He kissed you again, softer this time, unhurried. A promise sealed in the quiet.

Years passed in chapters of late nights, long classes, and endless briefs. Law school was brutal, but you pushed through every doubt, every echo of Jinyoung's voice in your head — and every time it got too loud, Jaebeom was there.

He was there with coffee at 2 a.m. study sessions.

He was there in the audience when you gave your first shaky moot court argument.

He was there when you broke down after exams, reminding you that exhaustion didn't mean failure.

And he was there every morning after, steady, patient, his presence the quiet anchor that made it all possible.

He hadn't been lying when he said he didn't want it halfway. He gave you all of himself.

He was there for every aspect you needed him to be. You knew that you also had to give him all of yourself and you did. No holding back.

The cheers in the auditorium roared in your ears as your name was called. You crossed the stage in your gown, your cap sliding slightly as you accepted your diploma, shaking the dean's hand.

You barely saw the cameras flashing. All you saw was him.

Jaebeom, standing in the crowd, clapping harder than anyone, eyes shining with pride that stole your breath.

When it was over, when families flooded the courtyard with flowers and pictures, he found you immediately. You didn't even get the chance to speak before his arms wrapped around you, lifting you just slightly off the ground.

"You did it," he whispered against your hair, voice thick.

Tears stung your eyes as you clutched at his shoulders. "We did it."

Later, when the noise quieted and the sun dipped lower, he tugged you aside, away from the crowd, into the courtyard where the old brick walls glowed golden in the fading light.

"Where are we going?" You giggled as his hand was wrapped around your wrist carefully.

He stopped in the middle of the courtyard, his gaze meeting yours. It was steady and sure, like the gaze you've seen from him a million times over. Yet, it felt different.

"Y/N," he said, his voice unsteady for the first time in years. He was already dropping to one knee, a small velvet box in his hand.

"I told you back then I didn't want to do this halfway," he said, his eyes locked on yours, raw and steady. "And I meant it. Every late night, every long day, every moment since. I've known I want all of it. With you. Always. You're my everything. I wouldn't trade you for the world."

Your breath caught, your hands trembling as tears blurred your vision.

He opened the box. The ring caught the last rays of sunlight, but it wasn't the diamond that made your chest ache — it was him, kneeling there, his voice breaking as he finally asked.

"Will you marry me?"

For a moment, you couldn't breathe. Then you laughed through your tears, nodding so hard your cap nearly slipped off. "Yes. God, yes."

Relief and joy broke across his face in one breath, and then he was on his feet, pulling you into his arms, kissing you like the world could end around you and it wouldn't matter.