#heesung

Synopsis: Riki has been by your side for as long as you can remember. Every childhood memory, every milestone, every stupid decision—you've never had to face it without him lingering somewhere nearby. So when junior year rolls around and dorm life comes to an end, moving into an apartment together feels less like a choice and more like the obvious next step.

But sharing four walls leaves little room for the distance friendship once provided. As routines intertwine and boundaries blur, the line between comfort and longing becomes harder to ignore.

Warnings: MINORS DNI. kissing, fluff, mentions of anxiety, strong depictions of depression, masturbation, pressure, angst, fluff, god idek what the fuck im writing

WC: 8266

Now playing: softcore by the Neighborhood

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VI. Breathless ♱

Click. 

…

The door shut behind you as Jungwon stood on the other side.

New bouquet of Peonies in hand. 

He really did remember. 

It had been a week since the night he accidentally stayed over. One week had turned into seven consecutive days of Jungwon.

Each day came with a different excuse—a new matcha spot he wanted to try, a record store he insisted you'd love, a viewpoint at the top of Seoul he swore had the best sunsets, even convincing you to study beside him in the library you once swore you'd never step foot in with him.

Yet, you said yes every time.

Because you hadn’t expected the real Jungwon to be so much better than the fantasies you had created in your head for six years. 

Plus, Rei was over almost every day and as much as you loved them both, you didn’t want to intrude any longer.

“So,” you grabbed Jungwon’s hand as he led you down the hallway of your apartment. “What’s the excuse today?”

His lips tugged upward into a smile as his fingers intertwined with yours. 

“Just thought we could take a walk?” he rubbed his neck. 

“Is that okay?”

You nodded.

…

You reminisced on every interaction you guys have had over the span of six years.

From first impressions, to first times, to secrets you’ve only ever shared to Riki, somehow, you two had made it along the Han River. 

The wind whistled against your ears as it fanned your hair softly against your face. The sun cast strong hues of rays, threatening to blind you as you walked alongside Jungwon. 

Before you knew it, you had found comfort in the man that stood beside you.

“When did you start liking me?” you questioned as you looked up to Jungwon. 

“Honestly,” his thumb rubbed soft circles along your knuckles. “I always have.”

His eyes met yours, shimmering from the reflection of the water.

“You were intimidating at first, don’t get me wrong. But—”

“You were always so driven. Confident. Like nothing could stop you from getting what you wanted.”

You smiled.

“And I always admired that.”

You swept your hair over one shoulder.

“Keep going.”

He rolled his eyes at your antics. 

“And because you’re so funny,” he deadpanned. 

You shoved his shoulder slightly, forcing a chuckle out of him

“What about you?”

He stopped walking entirely, before turning to face you. 

“When did you start liking me?”

Heat crept up your cheeks.

"Hm."

You looked away, pretending to think.

"The real question is…"

Your eyes found his again.

"When did I not?"

His ears turned red. 

…

Before his hands left yours only to find the sharpness of your jaw as he tilted it, forcing you to look up at him. 

He took a step forward, closing in on you. 

His eyes darted from your eyes, to your parted lips.

“I don’t know.”

His breath fanned against your face—minty and warm—the same one from the library. 

“You gave me the impression that you hated me.”

Your heart thudded against your chest, the steady rhythm being the only sound you could hear.

You inhaled, only to find Jungwon’s breath circling into you. 

“I could never hate you.”

His soft pink lips filled your vision.

…

And you couldn’t wait anymore. 

You closed the remaining space between you, capturing his lips with yours. 

And Jungwon didn’t hesitate to kiss you back.

Your hands climbed up his chest, before finding the column of his neck, and traveling higher into the strands of his hair, pulling him closer. 

His lips met yours with the same urgency, his hand settling at your waist as he pulled you flush against him.

As if it had been waiting for this very moment. All week. All six years.

He parted your lips with his tongue as he deepened the kiss, erupting your senses only with Jungwon’s warm lips.

His lips were so soft against yours, moving in a way that left your legs feeling numb from underneath you. Only being steadied by his hands on your waist.

For the first time you had nothing to say as you let him engulf you in all of him. 

Not even caring that you were still in public. 

The only thing you could feel were his lips on yours, asking for permission to ruin the gravity holding you together.

And so your lips continued their rhythm against his until breathing became impossible, forcing the two of you apart.

Your lips tingled, still savoring his touch, as Jungwon looked down at you. 

“Good thing Riki’s not here to interrupt this time.”

Your lips tugged upward into a full smile, before finding the column of his shirt, as you kissed him again.

♱

You hung up.

Your mom’s words echoed in your head, as the overwhelming feeling of being buried under the expectations, the reality, and everything else that came with being their daughter came crashing down on you. 

All at once.

“Stop disappointing me.”

“You’re not doing enough.”

“Stop playing around with your future. You know better than that.”

“You’re not like Riki. You don’t have the same privileges waiting for you on the other side.”

“Be real with yourself.”

“You need to be better.”

The crash of reality came so fast, forcing the air out of your lungs. 

You had just made it home from your walk with Jungwon.

You were happy. Blissful even. 

Your steps were light when you opened the door, lips still tingling after the kiss you two had shared that left you completely breathless.

Then, reality came knocking.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Mom.

You could’ve ignored it.

Let it ring until it stopped.

Stayed tucked inside the bubble Jungwon had wrapped around you for the afternoon.

Pretended, for another minute, that the world waiting outside your apartment didn’t exist.

But you answered.

Because you knew better.

Knew better than to keep spiraling into the envelope of happiness that was your fantasy.

Because you had things to tend to in the real world.

And before you knew it, you were once again, following orders. 

Following the path already written for you before you could even decide what you liked and disliked.

Trying to immerse yourself in the process of it all.

Applications for externships.

Mapping out your studying schedule for the next semester.

Creating your excel, filling it with your clocked in hours already.

Trying to step back into it all.

But instead, your brain found itself in the rhythm of self destruction.

You tried to be busy. Tried to drown out the noise that continued to thump against your brain, swallowing you whole.

You tried to organize.

To clean the mess of your reality.

But—

You just couldn’t.

The darkness welcomed you back like it had been waiting.

Overwhelmed by the water that filled your lungs.

Until you couldn’t breathe and the tears crawled out of your eyes before you could stop it. 

You tried to inhale, tried to fill your lungs with air.

Only to be met with needles poking holes into you. 

With every breath you took, came the sharpness of your reality.

Inhale. 

Exhale.

Four.

Seven.

Eight.

You repeated the mantra your therapist once told you that would let water subside from your lungs.

But nothing.

You were met with the same reality.

The same one forcing you down a path that was never your choice to begin with.

Inhale for four seconds.

Hold for seven.

Exhale for eight.

The expectations of your parents to uphold their wishes. 

Inhale.

Exhale.

Your inability to find footing against the workload that never seemed to wait for you.

Inhale.

Exhale.

You tried to find the same hands that once reached out to you, pulling you out from being submerged deeper.

You only found darkness answering you.

♱

When Manon had suggested that space might be good for you and Riki, you had wanted it to be your choice. 

You hadn’t expected darkness to fill its space instead.

By the time you had resurfaced, the apartment had grown quiet.

Only broken by Rei’s laugh that echoed against the walls. 

By Riki’s voice that seemed to only come out whenever she was over.

So, you tried to pick back up the pieces of yourself that were lost in it, in the way you had always done before. 

Rebuilding your routine. 

Going to the gym. 

Cleaning your room. 

Organizing your study time for the semester that was right around the corner. 

Seeing the sun outside your apartment. 

Only this time, Riki wasn’t beside you. 

You found the hollowness slowly being filled with Jungwon’s consistency. 

You hadn’t expected so early on to open up to him. To let him see you in the aftermath of the darkness that consumed you.

But he had noticed. 

Noticed the slight slump on your shoulders while he took you on another late night walk. 

Noticed the heaviness of your step as you strode in the same library corridor while studying with him.

He had never pushed for you to explain, and in his silence, you found the ability to be vulnerable. 

So when you eventually did tell him about the pressure of being who you were born to be while you two sat on your bed trying to fill the gap in your chest with whatever movie was playing, he nodded in understanding.

Before he opened his arms, enveloping you with his warmth.

“You are more than whatever expectations life has set for you,” he tightened his brace as he caressed your back soothingly.

“You don’t have to carry all of that alone. If what you need is distraction, I’m here,” he cupped your cheeks forcing you to look up at him.

You could barely see him through the tears that filled your vision.

You could only see the dimples that sunk so deep in his cheeks flashing hope amidst the hollowness that had found you.

“You are worth more than whatever negative thoughts seem to scream at you alone,” he wiped a tear that cascaded down your cheeks. “And if you can’t seem to find your way out, call me.” 

“I’m here.”

And you were grateful. 

So eternally grateful for his hands that pulled you back in. 

…

But at the same time.

…

You were also so fucking angry. 

Angry because that had always been Riki. 

Angry, because it wasn’t his hands that reached for you. 

Angry because your own best friend who had always noticed before anyone else, had been a ghost looming in the corner of your apartment. Only coming out when Rei was over.

So fucking angry because those were his exact words he said to you before.

Only now it was Jungwon who muttered it.

…

So when the door clicked shut behind you after walking Jungwon back out to his car, only to find Riki alone, slumped against the couch, without a care in the world. 

Your entire skin burned. 

“What the fuck.”

Riki looked up to meet your eyes, a confused expression displayed on his face. 

“Y/N,” he saw your fisted hands. “What’s wrong?”

"What's wrong?"

You laughed.

Not because anything was funny.

Because somehow he still had the audacity to ask after barely existing in your orbit for God knows how long. 

“That’s what you fucking say to me?” your voice rose as it echoed against the wall.

You didn’t know what took over you. You could only feel the betrayal that clung stubborn against your skin, refusing to calm down.

Riki got up to his feet. 

“What the fuck are you on about?”

…

That should have been you. 

You promised me.

…

You stomped in his direction until you stood right in front of him.

He hadn’t checked in on you. 

He hadn’t noticed the pattern of your behaviors he always did before even moving in with you.

He hadn’t noticed the way the walls were closing you in. 

He hadn’t noticed you were drowning from right beside him.

“Are you fucking serious Riki?”

Your head buzzed from the anger that crawled up your skin with every word spat by the man. 

You were sure, he would've noticed by now.

Noticed the way your door remained closed. 

Noticed the way you were walking around the apartment like a puppet under control. 

Especially, because you now shared the same four walls. 

So when did your existence disappear from right under his nose? 

When did your suffering become something invisible to the man that was supposed to know every part of you?

The Riki you knew, would’ve filled the gap growing between the two of you with another joke, another insult. Anything to pull you out of your own mind. Like he always did before.

But now.

He fucking didn’t. 

“What Y/N,” he took a step forward, hands pulling at the strands of his hair. “You’ve been out with Jungwon everyday.”

“What the fuck did I do?”

His voice reached an unknown octave causing you to flinch.

“I’m sorry—”

His voice softened. 

“Just…” his hand found your arm as he pulled you towards him. “Talk to me.”

He wrapped his arms around you.

“Tell me what I did.”

You felt his heart thudding against his chest while your cheeks were pressed up against it.

The closeness of him overwhelmed you. 

Because you were so fucking hurt.

Hurt from all the moments with Jungwon that subsided the water from your lungs that should’ve been with Riki’s laughter instead.

Hurt because with each step you took towards Jungwon, was mirrored by Riki taking a step back away from your relationship.

Now, only anger filled its place.

“You don’t get to ask me that anymore.”

You pulled away, only to find the restraints of his hands on your arms, tugging you even closer. 

His hand settled on your waist, pulling you flush against him as if refusing the space that you tried to force between you. 

You burned under his touch. 

Angry at his audacity to think he could bury your feelings beneath whatever the fuck this was.

“Riki, stop.” 

Heat fueled by anger, consumed by Riki’s scent, and the air threatening to close in on your lungs, you wriggled in his grasp. 

Only to find his arms caging you in even more.

“No.”

He looked down, only to meet your eyes that cut straight through him.

“Tell me what the fuck I did that’s causing you to act like this,” he spat out. 

Breath so close against yours, you couldn’t think straight. 

You needed to breathe. 

You needed to pull away from him. 

“Don’t.”

Your hand settled on his chest.

His grip on your waist tightened. 

“Don’t what.”

You shoved at his chest finally finding the strength to push him away.

“Don’t pretend like you fucking care.”

You broke free.

… 

Because you had grown comfortable with the truth of his actions that spoke louder than any words can.

That he was at ease not knowing if you were being buried under through the thin walls of your apartment.

…

You turned away, as you walked towards your room.

Before he could even mutter another word, the door slammed shut behind you. 

Click.

The sound echoed through the empty apartment. 

♱

The following days were agonizing. 

You had nothing left in you to fight. 

Nothing left in you to try to talk it out with him, to repair your friendship. 

Every ounce of your energy that was left, was burnt into ashes after that last conversation you had with him.  

Every day you had spent every second listening to Riki’s presence that hovered around your apartment, rather than facing him to confront whatever it was that was happening between the two of you.

The walls echoed its sheepish desire to close the two of you into one, but you were relentless.

You’d hear the tapping of his keyboards through the thin walls separating you and you’d text Jungwon to study with you in the library instead. 

You’d hear the shower running as you were making breakfast, and you’d go on a walk with Jungwon instead. 

Each day was spent living in the same apartment, yet moving through it as though you were carefully orbiting around his existence. 

You were still burying yourself under your workload. 

Under your expectations, because you had no other choice but to keep moving forward.

Despite the ache in your chest that grew with every passing day, the numbness of your soul that carried your feet aimlessly, the exhaustion of everything weighing on you forcing you to work like a zombie - living, breathing, existing, - but not really there. 

Floating through life with hazed muted glasses, not really feeling, or breathing anything else, but utter numbness.

Only this time, Jungwon was right beside you. 

And Riki was a ghost separated by a thin wall. 

You’d still see Rei from time to time.

Still keeping her updated with your life, but when Riki loomed in the corner, you’d walk away before he got too close. 

And with each passing moment, the ache in your heart grew heavier. 

Not from missing him. 

But from missing what he was. 

And especially missing what the two of you used to be.

You didn’t understand when it’d change. 

You couldn’t find the moment your friendship flickered into nothingness. 

You could only remember who he used to be.

♱

It was the following Sunday afternoon — a week after your fight with Riki — when the walls you’ve built came crumbling down.

You had just come back from an interview for a volunteer program you desperately needed to get in to. The weight of the day clawed its way on your back, filling your entire body with exhaustion.

And your brain had somehow gone on autopilot again. 

So when you walked in, only to find Riki already sitting up right on the couch. 

You had no energy left in you to walk away. 

So, instead, you pretended he wasn’t there at all. 

You needed something to wake you up. You still had to fill up the remaining applications left open in your laptop, awaiting for you inside your bedroom.

You walked towards the kitchen to make yourself coffee. Not even glancing at his direction. 

That’s when he moved. 

You stretched onto the balls of your feet, reaching for your favorite coffee mug on top of the cabinet. 

Riki’s fingers found it instead.

His breath tickled your neck sending an involuntary shiver down your spine. 

You froze.

Riki was right behind you.

His other arm propped against the counter, caging you against him and the wall on the other side. 

You turned around. 

Only making the situation worse because you found his eyes boring into yours.

Expression unreadable.

He set the mug down on the counter beside you not breaking away from your gaze.

You needed to move. You needed to walk away.

But your legs were frozen from under you. 

Heavy from Riki’s presence that had now captured you.

Caged in his arms. Yet again.

His hand on the counter moved. Before finding the small of your back, as Chromeheart littered fingers burned you with every touch. 

Your eyes trailed down to his lips before you could control it.

So red.

Like he’d been biting it for hours.

Down to his chest that rose up and down from right in front of you. Reminding you, that he too, was still living, and breathing.

Back up, to the intensity of his stare.

The memories of the first night found you once again. 

Before being replaced by the awareness of the stranger that stood right in front of you. 

You had intended to move.

To drive space in between the two of you that you had found comfort in amidst all the lines that blurred in the walls you two shared.

…

Only to find your hand fisting his shirt instead.

Like it remembered him before your mind could.

…

His hand traveled from your back, before settling on your waist. Digging, as if he couldn’t bear another second without touching you again.

Your shirt lifted from his touch.

Your breath hitched.

Heat grew in your lower stomach before you could protest, making your legs feel heavier from underneath you. 

His breath fanned against your face as his other hand found the softness of your cheeks. Thumbs gracing it so softly before holding it firm.

Exhaustion, frustration, and anger mingled into one as you found yourself dissolving from his touch, before leaning closer to his hand.

Dazed from the closeness of the two of you that you had missed for so long, you closed your eyes before releasing a breath.

“Talk to me,” he leaned his forehead against yours. 

Eyes pleading.

“Please.” 

His voice cut through, shaking you awake.

You opened your eyes.

The realization struck, like a wildfire spreading through your chest, until the warmth of his hands on your face was replaced by a burning exhaustion threatening to turn you into ashes from beneath it.

You steadied yourself from under him, before shoving him away. 

“I-“ 

Your voice echoed. 

Without another thought, you walked away. 

Leaving him in the kitchen alone.

Coffee forgotten.

♱

The anger burned along your skin, before slowly blooming into heat that pressed so firmly against your lower stomach.

You were so angry.

Angry at yourself for allowing him to get that close to you. 

Angry at the way your body couldn’t seem to shake him out.

So, after leaving Riki in the kitchen. 

You tried to bury yourself under the volunteer applications waiting for you on the other side of your closed bedroom door.

But you just couldn’t focus.

You stared at the blank page. 

Eyes sharp. Exhaustion from before completely whisked away. 

The cursor blinked back at you.

Waiting.

Softcore by the Neighborhood hummed through your headphones. 

Frustration gnawing at every bone in your body, as it sat rigid against your desk. 

Waiting, until your brain could fill it with anything else.

Anything else except the vision of Riki constantly playing in your brain. 

You've been my muse for a long time

You get me through every dark night

I'm always gone, out on the go

I'm on the run and you're home alone

I'm too consumed with my own life

Fuck. 

Even the song whispered your thoughts back at you.

And every time I kiss you, baby

You remembered the softness of his lips as it danced along with yours. 

The way Riki’s breath fanned behind you as he closed you in.

The way his chest rose, up and down. 

The heat of his body as he pressed so closely to you, stealing your breath along with his.

Only suffocating you, with all of him.

And his stupid fucking rings that dug into your waist, pressing you closer to him.

I can hear the sound of breaking down

I've been confused as of late (yeah)

Watching my youth slip away (yeah)

Your throat tightened. 

As you remembered your parents expectations.

You're like the sun, you wake me up

But you drain me out if I get too much

You remembered reaching out to Riki amidst the darkness that submerged you.

Remembered the way you leaned into his touch.

I might need you or I'll break

Only to find he wasn’t there.

Only to find the same lingering feeling of still wanting to reach out to him.

…

You closed your laptop, frustrated.

Before ripping your headphones away from your ears, as you tried to get a grip of reality. 

You had missed him.

Missed the way you two had been before whatever the fuck happened in between it all. 

…

Missed the way the apartment used to feel.

Missed laughing over his horrible cooking.

Missed him barging into your room without knocking.

Missed the way he always seemed to know when something was wrong before you ever opened your mouth.

Missed the version of him before the lines blurred.

Your thoughts strayed further.

Missed his touch that burned along your skin. 

Missed the way his cedar musk filled your nose every time he got too close. 

Missed the way his Chromeheart littered fingers felt behind your back. 

Missed the way his lips felt against yours before you even realized you were thinking about them.

…

You rubbed your hands against your face.

“Fuck.”

Your voice echoed back to you.

…

Silence.

…

You finally realized the apartment was empty. 

Riki had left somewhere along the way.

… 

And the silence only made your skin burn even harder, before blooming into frustration that caused heat to grow in between your legs. 

You needed a release. 

Something, anything.

To remove the thoughts constantly thumping against your head.

And before you could intervene, your hand traveled down in between your legs. 

Only to meet the wetness that coaxed your folds, leaving you shuttering under your own touch.

The heat under your fingers as it dragged along your skin forced a breathless sigh out of your mouth.

Your eyes closed as you found your clit, darkness closing in on you.

“Fuck.”

You moaned.

You pressed harder.

Before circling your clit even more, finding the familiar pressure that caused shivers to run through your entire body. 

Your head tilted back against your chair. 

As your finger kissed along your bud, lost in the rhythm of your fingers, Riki’s plump lips found its way into the darkness before you could stop it.

You were so confused, but you were also drunk in frustration.

And the image only caused a deeper need for release. 

Before you knew it, you were hungry for more.

Images of Riki were replaced by the fantasies that swirled your vision.

A needy expression overtaking his face as you rode him.

Your finger pressed deeper against your clit causing a streak of white to overtake you. 

“Mmh…”

You moaned as an image of Riki, pupils blown wide looking up at you in between your legs, tongue lapsing your throbbing cunt in the same motion your own fingers writhed against you.

Your back arched, chasing the feeling of your hand as the knot in your stomach tightened. 

You slid your finger down your folds to find your throbbing hole, before sinking into it. 

You imagined the way his fingers would feel inside you.

You thrusted another finger, mimicking the way his large hands would disappear between your legs.

The way his rings would continue to kiss against it. 

You thrusted in and out. 

The sound of your moans, and the wet sound of your fingers meeting you with each rut, filled the room.

Until you couldn’t take it anymore, moving your hips against your own hand as you let the feeling of it all overwhelm you.

“Just like that,” you said as you imagined him holding you firm against your hips, thrusting into you with so much force.

“Fuck.”

The knot tightened. 

As the climax began reeling in.

Only causing you to lose yourself further in your imaginations.

The way the thickness of him would fill your walls in the same way your fingers curled against it. 

The same way the sheer force of him thrusting into you so hard leaving you breathless and moaning, only being filled with him.

You were losing air as your mouth opened, drooling, chasing the feeling of him from underneath you.

Your fingers kept up the relentless rhythm.

Until eventually.

The fast pace of your fingers dug into you so hard, forcing white to streak your vision as you cummed against your palm. 

“Ki-“ your voice came out breathless, reverberating through every wall in the apartment. 

The only sound filling it.

You opened your eyes to the mess that you created. 

Reality crashed all at once. 

At the mess you just made, at the lustful thoughts that consumed you, at the name you just moaned out loud.

Guilt swallowed you up whole.

… 

Too lost in the fantasies that played in your head just minutes ago, you didn’t hear the creaking of the door. 

You didn’t hear the thudding of his footsteps as he made his way down the hallway.

You didn’t hear his breathing that stilled on the other side of your closed door.

But he heard you. 

He heard you call out to him, breathless, in the emptiness of your apartment. 

…

♱

The shower should’ve washed off your sins.

It didn’t. 

If anything, the warmth of steam made your guilt stick, stubborn, against your entire body.

There was no way in hell you just did that. No sane version of you would’ve let lust win.

You searched for an explanation.

For any reason why you’d just masturbated to the thought of your best friend.

To your roommate.

To the one person you swore to never cross that line.

Yes. You’ve had some questionable ideations ever since moving in with him.

Like the way his cedar musk filled your senses whenever he stood too close.

The way he seemed to always find his bottom lip when he was anxious.

The way he rubbed his stomach as he cooked, lifting his shirt as his kiss tattoo peeked from beneath his low, super low, sweatpants.

But, you’ve always just controlled it.

You’ve always maneuvered through your thoughts whenever it strayed too far. 

Because he is, was your best friend.

If you could even call it that anymore. 

You tried to guess maybe you had just missed him so much… that this was the only version of him you could accept. 

His absence had to have made you create unnecessary scenarios in your head that lead your fingers to imagine his- 

Nope.

You were still so angry at him. 

You needed him most. 

And he wasn’t there.

You rubbed your hands through your face, frustrated, as the water continued to cascade down your hair

Every thought screaming inside your head led to nowhere.

Because inevitably, there was no explanation to doing what you did.

You were, are, happy with Jungwon. 

You’ve let your thoughts stray far at the thought of him too. 

But never like this.

You were being ridiculous. 

Maybe, it really was because you had missed Riki so much. 

Missed how the two of you were, before everything went to shit.

Missed him being there for you. 

Maybe this was just a fucked up way your body subconsciously could fill the gaps in between? 

But, at the thought of that alone, a sheer hot streak pulled through your lower stomach, reminding you that it wasn’t.

Because the aftermath should’ve been the relief that you were searching for.

Instead, it was a want that burned hotter.

“Fuck,” you groaned out loud.

And now you were terrified the last ounce of control you had left would snap.

The shower was definitely not helping quiet your thoughts.

You turned the handle off, as the steam enveloped your entire body. 

You grabbed the towel hanging on the other side as you stepped out.

Your phone buzzed against the counter.

Mom.

You laughed.

Because of course, life had a way of resetting you back into reality with just one ring.

You picked it up while you dried your hair. 

Looking at a misty mirror that threw your reflection back at you. 

You really were a mess. 

“Hey,” your voice echoed. 

“You need to come home.” 

Not even a hello. 

A, how are you?

You rolled your eyes.

But what could you really expect?

The only called you for two reasons: your progress, or -

“I can try, maybe next week?” you sighed.

You really hoped it wasn’t what you were thinking about.

“No. Tomorrow.” 

“But-“

“No. The Nishimura’s want to have dinner with us. Riki’s already informed.” 

“I wasn’t asking you.” 

Right. 

The only other reason your mom would ever ring. 

You weren’t disappointed. Just exhausted by how reality never let you forget itself.

You’ve never had a choice to begin with. 

And so you gulped in every ounce of protest that nudged at you, at the thought of spending a whole dinner sat at the table with the stranger that now infiltrated your fantasies.

God, you were helpless.

♱

Click.

You opened the bathroom door at the same time as Riki’s bedroom door swung open.

You froze.

Of course. 

One needed escape, turned to hell.

At the mere sight of him, a heaviness threatened to collapse the gravity holding you upright.

Images of what you had just done flashed into your brain.

Your entire body burned from beneath.

The hallway suddenly felt too small.

You straightened trying to shake out the remnants of your sins.

He cleared his throat, before rubbing his neck as he met your eyes. 

“I don’t know if you’ve heard about the -“ 

“Uh…yeah, my mom just called me,” you interrupted before looking down at anything but the man that you just fantasized so carelessly about.

You mentally slapped yourself.

Riki nodded.

“Okay…”

You looked up before noticing the towel and the fresh set of clothes he carried.

“I was going to shower-“

He fidgeted with the silver stack of bracelets around his forearms.

You looked up, only to find his eyes boring so harshly against yours you swore he could see what you had just done. 

What you had just crossed.

He bit his bottom lip. 

The hallway closed in on you before your eyes found it before you could control it.

“I was done anyway,” you cleared your throat before averting your gaze. 

Shameful as fuck.

You closed the bathroom door behind you before forcing your legs to move, forcing yourself to breathe, manually.

To escape the thick air of the hallway that was beginning to strangle you as you walked into your bedroom.

…

Click.

The door shut behind you.

Air finally filled your lungs.

♱

The next day was spent trying to find the courage in your bones to get yourself ready for dinner.

You had it all mapped out. 

Your dress, your makeup, your hair, the conversations that were going to play during dinner about the silent progress reports your parents would probably try to inquire without making it sound like probing in front of the Nishimuras.

Yet, your entire body was still shaking. 

Because this wasn’t just dinner.

It was two long hours of pretending that you were doing great. 

That you weren’t hollow beneath the glimmering sparkles of your dress.

Two long hours of pretending that you and Riki were still best friends.

That despite the emptiness you felt, that you weren’t burning with anger at his absence, and scorching with a want that you couldn’t seem to shake out of you at the thought of him being too close.

You could only hope that your makeup could hide you from beneath it.

You pounded the brush aggressively at your cheekbones as you tried to get your blush to sit perfectly on the apples of your cheeks.

An attempt to hide the anxiety that crawled at every crevice of your skin.

You dropped it frustrated.

That would have to do, you had to move onto the next step. 

Because God so help, you would shove that brush somewhere it didn’t belong if you didn’t occupy yourself with anything else.

You looked up at your reflection in the vanity mirror, barely satisfied. 

You were glowing, ethereal regardless. Still, you were hollow from beneath.

But you continued. 

You needed to do your hair.

You found your crimper, only to be met with the realization of every fucking outlet in your room occupied already.

Great.

So fucking great.

You sighed before getting up and walking towards the bathroom.

Hoping he wasn’t occupying it. 

You didn’t hear the shower running, so maybe you were in luck for once.

…

But when you opened the door, Riki was already there, leaning against the counter.

You froze.

A white button up sprawled against his broad shoulders, leaving a few unbuttoned, inviting you to imagine what it led toward.

Your eyes trailed upward.

And oxygen left your lungs entirely.

…

You caught sight of his hair.

Now dyed, Jet black.

It was pushed upwards, styled with precision giving you the perfect canvas of every feature on his face. 

The sharpness of his cheekbones, the fullness of his lips that seemed to just pop out at you from the contrast of his new hair, to the same brows, now dyed the same fucking color.

Fuck. He looked too good.

You couldn’t mention it or else you’d crumble.

You needed to breathe. 

His eyes found yours, locking your legs down from beneath you, crimper still in your hand.

“I need the outlet,” you forced out loud.

Your words came out breathless, before averting your gaze away from his. 

Jesus, get a fucking grip. it’s just hair.

He cleared his throat before stepping away from the sink.

“Yeah…” he made space for you beside him, “Use it. I’m just finishing up my hair. I just need the mirror.” 

FUCK. FUCK. FUCK.

“I can wait.” 

“It’s okay, we need to leave soon anyway. I won’t be here long.”

Stupid fucking outlet. You were never going to be in luck.

You forced a nod as you stepped in before plugging in the crimper at the outlet right beside him.

Riki continued on styling his hair.

The air thickened inside the small crampy bathroom. 

The only sound filling out it was the clamping of your crimper against your hair as you tried to focus on anything but the man beside you. 

Clamp. Clamp. Clamp.

You looked at your reflection, trying to focus, before your eyes trailed to the side only to find his eyes already staring back at you. 

Riki held his stare, watching you, heavy-lidded.

You caught something flash into his eyes, before he averted his gaze from yours entirely. 

He cleared his throat.

Before he stepped out of the bathroom entirely.

Leaving you alone with the heat from the crimper that now mingled with the burn from your skin, and the smell of his cedar musk cologne that filled the air.

You took a deep breath.

This was going to be a long night.

…

Once you were done with your hair, you needed to get dressed.

You walked back to your room, stripping yourself bare, before forcing the tight shimmering champagne dress on you. 

Once you got it on, you made your way into your mirror to zip your dress shut, only to find it wouldn’t budge.

You twisted your entire body to nudge at the zipper, it wouldn’t move.

You tried inhaling, sucking in, before trying to force the zipper up, it didn’t move. 

You grabbed at the hem of your dress, pulling it up, before trying again.

Nothing.

You tried again. 

Nothing.

Three more times.

You nearly ripped the zipper.

“Fuck.”

You let out a frustrated groan. 

“Um…” 

You tried again. 

Nothing.

Fuck.

…

“Riki?” 

You called out.

…

“Can you help me?” 

You hated this dress, hated this damn dinner, hated this damn apartment. 

You sighed as you heard his footsteps making his way to you before knocking on your door.

Knock..

…

“Come in.”

He twisted the knob before making his way inside.

You looked at your reflection, refusing to look at him. 

Before gathering your hair over one shoulder.

“Can you zip me up?” 

You caught a glimpse of him nodding before he strode towards behind you. 

Your eyes met his through the reflection, trapping you from in front of him.

You grip on your hair tightened as his teeth sunk onto his bottom lips.

You felt his breath fanning against your back causing shivers to run down your spine, now overly exposed to him.

He cleared his throat, before his knuckles grazed the small column of your back as he grabbed the zipper. 

“Ready?”

His voice tickled your neck at how close he was.

You forced a nod.

His fingers trailed your spine as he forced the zipper up, before being caught half way.

“Hold still.”

You sucked in a breath.

His fingers brushed along the empty skin as he tried to work the fabric free from the stubborn zipper. 

Goosebumps rose along your entire body before your shoulders stiffened from beneath him. 

He noticed.

He looked up at you through the mirror as he struggled with the zipper.

You met his eyes, heavy, laced with something you couldn’t name.

A breath escaped your lips.

You averted your gaze too quickly as he finally wriggled it free before pulling it up to the top.

For a second you didn’t move.

You met his eyes again through the mirror, neither one of you daring to break, his hand lingering at the top for a second longer than necessary.

Before he cleared his throat, stepping back.

“Thanks.” 

He nodded. 

“No worries.” 

He turned away. 

“I’ll see you in the car.” 

He walked out before you could even reply. 

♱

Every time the cedar musk of his cologne drifted towards you, your stomach turned.

Because what filled the space between you was sheer utter silence, only broken by the rhythm of the slow R&B song that hummed in the background.

The city blurred past you into streaks of amber and white.

It wasn’t just because of whatever distance had grown between the two of you. 

It was simply because you couldn’t remember the last time you sat this close to him without feeling like your lungs were threatening to crawl out of your mouth.

And now, you sat with your legs clenched tight against you, as you held the ends of the fabric of your dress.

Trying.

Failing.

Every conversation you rehearsed for dinner dissolved the second you looked at him.

Every part of your brain tried to control itself from spiraling. 

But the way his long fingers gripped around the steering wheel as he maneuvered through the streets of Seoul, wasn’t helping.

He filled the small space of the car—and every crevice of your mind.

Your control was withering every second. And you had a whole hour and half left to go.

…

Damn, your mother.

Damn, yourself for never having the courage to protest.

…

You leaned your head back against the seat as you sighed out loud, closing your eyes.

Before forcing them open to look out the window, searching for anything to fill the thoughts mingling in your brain.

The air grew thicker with every passing second.

You rolled the window down, before letting the wind whistle against your ears, and fanning your hair.

Fuck. 

The wind offered relief.

Before Riki's presence swallowed it whole.

You were still angry at him for not being there for you, but being confined inside his car was making you drowsy with thoughts you seemed to not be able to contain. 

Fuck.

Riki glanced at you from the side, still gripping the wheel so tightly you were afraid it’d break from the pressure.

He cleared his throat.

“Y/N.”

The sound of his voice reverberated through the entire car, mimicking the engine as it roared.

God you couldn’t look at him. 

You couldn’t listen to the sound of his voice.

Couldn’t hear the low register, and the way his voice seemed to purr against your eardrums as if he was just a breath away.

You just. 

Couldn’t.

“Don’t.”

Riki’s grip on the wheel tightened as his eyes dragged down your form.

You were so tense.

“We need to talk.” 

Anything but that. 

Please, for Godsake.

…

Silence.

…

You pretended you didn’t hear him.

Tried to pretend his presence alone beside you wasn’t threatening to whisk away any left of decency and control you had left over your own body.

“Y/N,” Riki’s voice cut through the air.

Stealing the last of your breath.

You couldn’t take it anymore. 

You couldn’t sit a foot away from the man that you were supposed to be angry at.

You still were so angry.

But now for some fucked up reason, you wanted to release that pent-up frustration in a way that would only make the situation so much worse. 

You needed to get away.

You needed air.

You needed anything that wasn’t overwhelming your senses only with Riki.

You sat up. 

Drowning in guilt, anger, and a burn you couldn’t shake any longer. 

“Stop the car.” 

Riki turned to you, shock drawn on his features. 

“What?”

You couldn’t listen to his voice anymore. 

“Stop the fucking car.”

Riki clenched his jaw.

“We’re in the middle—”

“I don’t give a fuck. If you don’t stop this fucking car. I’m jumping out.” 

You grabbed the handle.

Because you really were.

The silence in the car constricted against your lungs, threatening to swallow you whole.

Another second would’ve had you already breathless in a way that whisked away any restraints, any control that you still had over your own body. 

“No.” 

Riki’s voice boomed against the whole car. 

You froze.

His grip on the wheel tightened as he flexed his jaw, annoyed.

“I’ve tried to be patient with you.” 

You turned your head towards him, finally glancing at his direction.

“I’ve tried to have a civil conversation, because we’re fucking adults.” 

He looked at you—his brows furrowed, eyes tightened so hard as his pupils —fully blown out and dilated— cut through yours.

"What the fuck is going on with you?"

He shook his head.

"Because you're acting like such a fucking brat."

You laughed. 

“I don’t owe you an explanation.”

His jaw clenched so hard you heard his teeth grind against each other.

“Really? Because the last time I remembered, we were friends.”

You sat up fully facing him as you leaned towards him.

His audacity caused a flash of anger to surge through your entire body. 

He had been a ghost. 

Barely there, and he had the audacity to call you a useless fucking label?

“Friends? Is that what you call that?”

“What does that even fucking mean?” 

His face contorted to a full scowl.

“Friends don’t disappear the moment you need them.” 

Riki dropped his expression.

His grip on the wheel tightened even more.

… 

“What?”

His voice cut through the air so sharply.

…

“Are you serious? I have been here with you through everything. I’ve held your hand through every bullshit your parents have put you through?”

He turned to you, expression drawn right back on.

“Do you really call that disappearing?”

You met his gaze, unwavering. 

“Yeah?”

Your laugh came out hollow.

“Where have you been then the past few fucking weeks then?”

His expression fell.

The car fell silent. 

His jaw stopped moving. 

Even the music suddenly boomed too loud, thumping against the stereo causing the entire car to vibrate from under you.

“You had—”

“No. I’m fucking done talking about this.”

“Y/N.”

“STOP.”

He slammed his hand against the wheel. 

“STOP THE FUCKING CAR, RIGHT NOW.”

He pulled up on the side of the road so fast, your entire body jerked towards the side.

You got out of the car the second it stopped. 

Not even waiting. Not even glancing at his direction as you stomped out.

“Y/N!”

Riki slammed his door shut from behind him as he followed you. 

“Where are you going?” 

The cold night air rippled against your thin dress causing your entire body to shiver.

But you were relentless. 

You needed to get away.

Far away from him.

“Leave me the fuck alone. I’ll find a ride to dinner.”

You kept walking.

You heard his footsteps cut through the silence. 

Before, he closed the distance between you.

Fingers wrapped around your wrist.

"No."

Before you could wrench yourself free, he yanked you back toward him.

The sudden force knocked your balance sideways.

Your free hand instinctively shot out, flattening against his chest to keep yourself upright.

Neither of you moved.

Your skin burned beneath his hand.

Anger—and something you refused to name—twisted together until you couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

Because he wasn't wrong.

And somehow, that only made you angrier.

But how could you tell him that your anger had dissolved into something more dangerous.

“Let me go Riki.”

You wriggled in his grasp, his grip cutting your circulation.

“No. Be fucking reasonable for once.”

His grip on your wrist tightened as he forced you flushed against him.

“Just get in the car.”

“No.”

His eyes dropped to where his hand still circled your wrist.

He let go immediately.

"I’m sorry—”

He rubbed his face with his hands, frustrated.

“Fuck.”

His voice lowered, cutting through the thin night air causing shivers to run through your spine.

“You don’t have to talk to me. But just pretend for one fucking night.”

“You know exactly what's waiting for you if you don't show up. And I know that it’s bullshit. But for Godsake.”

"Get in the car."

His voice was quieter now.

"Pretend we're okay for two hours, get our parents off our asses—"

His eyes met yours.

"...and then you can go right back to ignoring your problems.”

You froze.

His words lodged somewhere deep in your chest.

Your vision blurred.

Almost.

Then the mask slipped back into place.

“If I get in that car, you don’t speak to me.”

“You don’t say shit to our parents. and you promise to leave me the fuck alone for the rest of the night.”

Your voice came out stern.

“It's two hours,” he muttered.

…

"Fuck you."

You turned away before he could answer.

You climbed back into the passenger seat, slammed the door shut, and stared out the window.

A second later, the driver's door opened.

Riki didn't say another word.

Neither did you.

The rest of the drive passed in silence.

prev > masterlist < next

jm corner 𑁤 : sorry this took a while. been overwhelmed by everything recently but honestly this kinda helped j a bit. enha was so fucking good in person btw. i love them sm. just kinda got carried away. i also don't rlly know if u guys are enjoying it so please lmk, any feedback would help lmk if u wanna be added on that taglist tho fs

Synopsis: Riki has been by your side for as long as you can remember. Every childhood memory, every milestone, every stupid decision—you've never had to face it without him lingering somewhere nearby. So when junior year rolls around and dorm life comes to an end, moving into an apartment together feels less like a choice and more like the obvious next step.

But sharing four walls leaves little room for the distance friendship once provided. As routines intertwine and boundaries blur, the line between comfort and longing becomes harder to ignore.

Warnings: NSFW, mentions of alcohol, tension, almost-kiss, really fluff, slight angst ;)))), lmk if i miss any marks

WC: 6168

prev > masterlist < next

V. Half Truths ♱

“Y/N… if you coat your mascara one more time, your lashes are deadass gonna fall off.”

Riki snickered, swiping one of your makeup brushes off the counter before dusting invisible blush across his own cheekbones.

You dropped the empty tube on the counter.

“Bitch, please.”

You slapped at his hand before grabbing the brush.

“I need to make sure Jungwon can’t take his eyes off of them.”

You grabbed another brush, dusting blush across your cheeks until the color sat perfectly over the apples of them.

“I mean, you are giving him something to look at for sure.”

You rolled your eyes.

You had been cycling through the same palette for almost two hours now. 

Nervous was an understatement. 

Your stomach was practically at your ass at this point. 

Riki, who was supposed to help you, was definitely not alleviating your nerves. If anything he was making it worse with the constant teasing as you caked your face. 

You had invited Jungwon over briefly after resolving things with Riki. But he insisted on taking you around Downtown before coming over.

Something about a new bookstore that opened up?

You weren’t really sure. The thought of being alone with him overwhelmed any rationality you had about where you were going. 

Riki insisted on being your assistant through it all.

Clearly, he wasn't doing a very good job.

“Man and all.”

…

“Mascara’s good,” he exhaled, grabbing another makeup brush. “You look scary enough.”

You threw the empty mascara tube straight at him.

He caught it effortlessly, already expectant of your violent tendencies.

You sighed.

“You’re supposed to be helping, Ki.”

He raised both hands in surrender before gently spinning your chair to face him.

Riki's eyes wandered over you.

From the neatly pinned updo that let the rest of your hair cascade down your back, a few curled strands framing your face and softening the sharper angles of your features—

His jaw flexed.

To the fitted gray tank that hugged your frame, ending just above your waist and exposing the silver belly button piercing that caught the light against your olive skin.

His gaze lingered for a second longer than it should’ve—

Then lower.

To the ash-black baggy jeans that sat low on your hips, loose enough to be comfortable, yet fitted enough to accentuate your figure.

He let out a quiet sigh.

“You look good.”

His eyes found yours.

For a brief second, your stomach flipped.

You quickly turned your chair back toward the small vanity mirror perched on your desk, as you fiddled with the brush in your hand.

“Jungwon wouldn't even know what to do with you.”

You dropped the brush.

Heat blooming throughout your chest. 

You weren’t sure if you were nervous about Jungwon.

Or the fact that Riki’s eyes seem to draw out thoughts in your brain you refused to say out loud.

God, Y/N. 

Get a fucking grip.

“I don't even know why you're stressing, to be honest.” He shrugged. “It's just a bookstore.”

A beat passed before he added,

“And you're coming back here with him anyway.”

A lump in your throat formed.

…

And reality came crashing down as your phone vibrated against your desk. 

Mom.

Your stomach sank.

A reminder of what was waiting for you beyond every distraction you'd thrown yourself into.

Riki turned it off without another glance. 

“Finish up. Jungwon’s probably almost here.”

♱

Jungwon leaned against the passenger door as you made your way toward him.

A white V-neck button-up clung to his broad shoulders before cinching at his waist, paired with loose, dirty-washed denim that sat low on his hips beneath a thin black belt.

Simple.

Effortless.

Unfair.

He looked way too good.

Your throat tightened. 

Goosebumps rippled across your skin.

Riki was a big fat liar. 

You were not good. 

This was God beneath the afternoon sun. 

In human flesh. 

You swore you saw the aura radiating off him the moment you met his eyes. 

You wanted to strangle Riki. 

No.

You wanted to strangle yourself. 

For fucking agreeing with this shit in the first place.

Maybe.

You could always just back out. 

Keep Jungwon tucked away, arm’s length. 

Always there. 

Never too close.

But your legs moved before you could intervene.

“Hey,” he steadied himself on his feet.

“Hi.”

Your voice came out higher than you intended.

Your arms wrapped around your stomach, all of a sudden anxious. 

The wind whistled against your face, whisking away your confidence along with it. 

Not that you had any in the first place.

“Ready?” 

Fuck no.

Jungwon opened his passenger door before stepping to the side. 

Heat crept up your neck.

You swore he saw because his lips twitched slightly. 

You nodded before settling into the seat as Jungwon closed the door before walking to the driver’s side and cracking the door open.

He crouched beside the open door.

 “I almost forgot.” He stood again, walked to the trunk, and pulled something out before returning.

“These are for you.” 

Pink Peonies. 

Wrapped in a brown kraft paper, softened by sprigs of baby breath. 

Your favorite. 

Your fingers hovered over the bouquet afraid it’d disappear if you touched it too quickly.

“How—,” you looked up to meet his eyes as he settled in his seat. 

“How did you know?”

He rubbed the back of his neck with a sheepish laugh.

“I asked Riki.” 

Your skin burned from your neck all the way up to your cheeks at the thought. 

“You’re too sweet.”

Jungwon flashed a gummy smile as his dimples sunk on his cheeks. 

“Anything for you.” 

You were going to die.

♱

And death came knocking at your door, nearly sending your lungs out through your mouth.

Jungwon opened your door. 

And behind him, tucked in the corner of the street, illuminated by fairy lights that hung against its cracked window sills,

Greenhouse.

You were enamored. 

The bookstore overflowed with every species of plant imaginable.

Some you could name.

Most, you couldn't.

Every shelf looked like its own little ecosystem.

Your jaw dropped. 

You clutched the bouquet tighter against your chest as you stepped out into the afternoon sun.

“So…” Jungwon glanced down at his shoes with a sheepish grin. “You like it?”

“Are you fucking kidding—”

Before he could apologize for asking, you reached over and grabbed his arm.

“I love it.”

Your stomach flipped. 

“How did you even find this?” You muttered as you headed towards the entrance. Steps light.

“Oh, you know…” Jungwon fell into a step beside you. “Research.”

The second you stepped inside, whatever composure you'd managed to scrape together disappeared.

Books lined every corner. 

Fairy lights strung across every surface. 

The air smelled faintly of coffee and old paper.

“Jungwon—”

Oh.

You were a kid in a candy store. 

You didn’t even wait for a response as your footsteps led you down the corridor, hands gracing the spines as you browsed the sections already in a trance. 

Autobiographies. 

Botanicals. 

Non-fiction. 

Mystery/Thriller. 

You stopped. 

Perfect.

Your eyes skimmed every shelf, not missing a single beat before stumbling across The Silent Patient. 

“Oh my god! I’ve been looking for this everywhere!”

You turned around. 

Jungwon a few steps behind, already watching you with his dimpled smile. 

“Have you heard about this one?”

He closed the space in a few strides.

“OH!—” his fingers brushed the spine. "No."

His breath fanned against your face— minty and warm— as he towered over you, suddenly making you realize just how close he was.

There was no alcohol filling your bloodstream at this point, so. 

You cleared your throat. 

“How’s life as a CS major treating you nowadays, anyway?” 

You grabbed the book as you began strolling down the corridor again. Heart thudding against your chest, heat crawling up your entire body at this point.

He laughed.

“Do you mean how much sunlight I’ve been getting recently?”

His eyes followed yours. 

Shelf after shelf.

“Because the answer is none.”

You crouched down to look at another book, before answering.

“That bad?” you looked up at him from the side. 

He nodded.

“Graduation at the end of the year doesn’t help either.”

He crouched down beside you before pulling at one of the spines.

“How are you managing?”

“Barely.”

He stood back up as he grabbed the book, eyes scanning the back. 

“But, making the most of it I guess,” he raised his brows as his eyes met yours. “Before the real world comes after anyway.”

“Still, going to your parent’s Tech company afterwards?”

He nodded. 

Jungwon had always been like this. 

Disciplined. Relentless. Focused.

Maybe that's why you'd always admired him.

Even if the lives you'd been handed looked different.

They'd both spent years chasing futures that already had their names written on them.

“And, you?”

A knot in your throat formed.

You forced a nod. 

His smile softened.

His gaze dipped to your slumped shoulders before quietly finding your eyes again.

“So…” you started as you faced him fully, opening the book in your hand to a random page. “Why’d you decide to ask me out?”

You weren’t really reading as you skimmed through the words.

“Why now anyway?”

You looked up.

Because you had been curious.

You’ve known him for six years now. 

Of course you’ve seen the eyes that always found yours amidst the zoo of your friends. 

The lingering glances. The small touches. 

And it’s not like you were super discrete either. 

You know that he knew. 

You were just waiting for him to stop pretending. 

Jungwon chuckled at your bluntness.

“Of course.”

“Couldn’t wait till we hit the seven year mark?” your lips tugged up into a smirk as you looked up at him through the book in your hand.

“Couldn’t live without you for another day.”

He leaned against the bookshelf  as he mirrored your posture, looking through the opened book in his hand. 

Not reading. 

You giggled, cheeks warm.

“Seriously though. Why now?” 

You closed the book. 

Clap. 

“I guess…” he closed his book. “I just never felt like you had room for me anyway.”

Oh.

“And now?” 

You met his eyes fully as you leaned your body closer.

He closed the remaining space between you, bracing one arm against the bookshelf above you.

“Guess you’ll have to make room for me now.”

Your heart stopped.

Oh, you were burning.

…

“Shut up,” you mumbled, shoving his shoulder as you slipped beneath his arm.

His laugh followed after you.

“Didn't say anything.”

“You didn't have to.”

You wandered farther down the aisle, pretending to be far more interested in the shelves than the way your heartbeat had yet to settle.

Classic Literature.

Poetry.

Philosophy.

Japanese Literature.

Your fingertips skimmed absentmindedly across faded spines, the rough edges catching against the tips of your fingers.

Until—

You stopped.

Your brows knit together.

Slowly, you reached forward, carefully pulling the worn paperback from its place.

No Longer Human.

Your thumb brushed over the smooth surface of the cover.

"You've read Dazai?"

Jungwon's voice came from just behind your shoulder.

You glanced back.

"Yeah."

He stepped beside you, tilting his head to look at the cover.

"I've heard about it."

"It's..." You let out a quiet laugh through your nose. "A heavy read."

"So it's good?"

"Depends."

You turned the book over in your hands, absentmindedly tracing the creased corners.

"I think people either love it—"

You stretched onto the balls of your feet, reaching toward the shelf above for another edition.

Your tank lifted—

Just enough.

"... or they hate it."

Silence.

...

You frowned.

"Jungwon?"

No answer.

You looked over.

He wasn't looking at the shelf anymore.

His eyes had settled just above your hip, to the side of your ribs.

You instinctively lowered your arm.

"What?"

His expression shifted almost imperceptibly before he met your eyes.

"Nothing." He glanced at space that your arm now occupied, "I just—"

His brows pinched together.

"When did you get that?"

You tugged at the hem of your tank before averting your gaze as you continued your stride along the corridor. 

“A while ago.”

He noticed the crack in your composure. 

The same one from earlier. 

“Mmh.”

He didn’t try to fill the silence as he continued to follow you through the aisle as you made your way to the checkout. 

He pulled his card out without another word as the cashier rang you up.

"Thank you," you murmured.

He smiled.

"Of course."

You weren't sure which you appreciated more.

The books.

Or the fact that he hadn't asked again.

♱

The hours slipped by easier than you'd expected.

You and Jungwon talked about everything.

First impressions.

First dates.

First kisses.

Favorite childhood memories.

He complained about the endless hours he poured into projects that stole the sun from his days. You admitted nursing exams had stolen more nights of sleep than you cared to count.

You had learned he broke his arm the first time he tried to learn to skateboard. He had learned about that one guy you casually dated in freshman year that was so obsessed with serial killers, he wanted to roleplay you as the victim. (He was mortified). 

You recalled your guys’ first college party, him ending the night by throwing up on a random guy’s bed. Him laughing ridiculously at your story of almost getting in a fight at a club over this girl that had tried to throw a drink at Manon.

He told you about how he couldn’t go a day without matcha. You called him performative. He argued it hit harder than any coffee could. You argued that it didn’t.

Somewhere along the way, the pedestal you'd placed Jungwon on for years was left behind in that bookstore.

Along with the silence that had settled between the two of you after he'd looked at your ribs.

By the time the sun dipped against the horizon, and your apartment garage came into view, the nerves you'd carried all morning had long since settled into something softer, at the reality of who Jungwon was. 

Not the fantasy you created in your head.

And that was much more admirable. 

You clutched the bouquet and the set of books he had bought you against your chest.

Jungwon reached across the center console, fingers intertwining with yours. 

You let them.

…

By the time you reached the front door of your apartment, your fingers had naturally found his.

Your free hand absentmindedly rested around his bicep.

Every now and then, your thumb traced lazy circles against his arm.

His muscles flexed beneath the fabric.

He insisted on carrying your bouquet and your books as you walked which you only answered with a slight shove against his shoulder. 

You had invited him over to finally fulfill his promise of receiving that “grand tour”.

…

You knocked. 

“Why are you knocking?” Jungwon asked, his lips tugging into a full smile.

“Because—”

You looked at the door.

“You never know what they’re doing in there.”

“You’re exaggerating.”

You snorted.

“Don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

You unlocked the door.

…

Silence.

…

Jungwon blinked.

You stilled.

"Oh."

There stood Riki, casually leaned against the kitchen counter as if this were any other Tuesday. Rei perched on the countertop in front of him, her legs wrapped lazily around his waist.

Riki glanced over his shoulders.

At your hands, still intertwined, to the one lazily tracing Jungwon’s bicep, and to the bouquet that he was holding.

“You’re back.”

Your eyes traced the arms that were still wrapped around Rei’s waist before forcing your legs to move.

“See?”

You slipped your shoes off, still holding onto Jungwon’s hand as he did the same.

“I literally told you.”

“Never doubting you again.”

Riki stepped back.

“Shut up,” Riki muttered, rubbing the back of his neck before turning toward the couch.

“Hey, Y/N!” Rei hopped off the counter as she engulfed you into a friendly hug. 

“Hey!” you pulled away. “It’s been a while!”

“It has.” Rei glanced at your still intertwined hands before throwing you a teasing smirk. 

You rolled your eyes playfully.

“You must be Jungwon,” she turned to him.

“And you must be Rei,” Jungwon reached his hand out, “I’ve heard a lot about you from Riki.”

Rei took his hand before shaking it. 

“Is that so?” Her brows raised as she turned to where Riki was with a teasing smirk.

He nodded his head before pulling his hands back to find yours. 

“You just finished up a showcase right?” 

“Yeah,” Rei walked towards where Riki sat on the couch before dropping down beside him. “I’ve been so busy with it all. Photoshoots, preparation, directing.”

“Don’t even get me started with the amount of time it actually took to make the clothes,” she rubbed her hands along Riki’s forearms.

“That reminds me—” you took Jungwon’s hand as you made your way towards your living room, his eyes scanning every corner. “You have to show me all of the pictures, Rei!” 

You sat beside Rei, Jungwon on the other side as you squished into the tiny couch.

The couch sank under your weight before your eyes briefly looked up to meet Riki’s.

The memory of the morning flashed in between your gaze.

…

You cleared your throat. 

Rei began showing you the pictures of the showcase, leaving you stunned at the talent that was the girl beside you.

“You’re so talented, Rei.”

“I can see you in every outfit. Your passion speaks for itself.”

Rei’s lips tugged into a genuine smile.

“I really appreciate that,” she muttered. “I poured my all into this showcase. I really didn’t expect all of the positivity that was going to come out of it.”

Your smile lingered.

You believed every word you had said.

Ever since you met Rei, she’d lived and breathed fashion.

It wasn’t just something that she was good at.

You saw the way it was stitched into every crevice of her identity. From the way she dressed, to the way her eyes lit up whenever she had talked to you about it. 

She had found the thing that made her feel alive. 

You wondered what that felt like.

…

Jungwon watched the smile linger more than it should.

He didn’t say anything. 

“So,”

“When are you going to make something for me?” Riki nudged at her elbow.

“Riki. Be so fucking for real.” 

“What?”

“You wear one brand.”

“Chromehearts.”

“I know what I like,” he shrugged.

“Then don’t ask.”

He rolled his eyes.

You and Jungwon giggled. 

“Right—” you got up to your feet before dragging Jungwon up along with you, “Where are my manners?

“Let me show you around.”

Riki noticed the way your eyes creased into crescent moons as you glanced at Jungwon. 

Then glanced down to your hands that rested against his forearms.

He noticed how naturally your attention drifted toward Jungwon now, as though looking for him had already become second nature.

His eyes followed it for a beat before he glanced down to his arm that Rei was rubbing against. 

She noticed.

…

You intertwined your fingers with Jungwon’s as you led him around the apartment.

“Welcome to our humble abode,” you grinned.

“Humble?” Riki snorted from the couch. “You’ve bought like seventeen candles this month.”

“They were on sale.”

“They absolutely were not.”

Ignoring him, you motioned toward the shelving unit tucked beside the television.

“This is where all my money goes.”

Jungwon’s eyes wandered over the neat row of perfume bottles.

“So much vanilla.”

“There are different kinds of vanilla,” you defended.

“They all smell the same.”

“They literally don’t.”

Riki pointed toward the darker bottles lined up beside yours.

“Mine are better.”

“You smell like a lumberjack.”

“I smell expensive.”

“You smell like you’re a year closer to getting divorced.”

“It’s called having taste.”

Jungwon laughed softly, watching the two of you bicker as naturally as breathing.

You continued through the living room, stopping in front of the shelves beneath the television.

Picture frames covered nearly every empty space.

School pictures.

Beach trips.

Birthdays.

Random selfies taken years apart.

Jungwon reached for one near the corner.

You couldn’t have been older than nine.

Your smile was so wide your eyes disappeared beneath the softness of your cheeks, while beside you stood Riki, his entire face buried beneath whipped cream.

“My ninth birthday,” Riki sighed dramatically.

“I pushed his face into the cake.”

“You assaulted me.”

“You deserved it.”

“I don’t even remember what I did.”

“I don’t either,” you admitted with a laugh. “But I’m sure it was something.”

His lips tugged upward despite himself.

You wandered farther into the apartment, pointing toward the fake plants scattered throughout nearly every corner.

“I wanted the place to feel alive.”

“So you bought fake plants?” Jungwon asked.

“I kill real ones.”

“She named one once,” Riki added.

You groaned.

“Don’t tell him about Fern.”

“Fern didn’t even make it back to your dorm.”

“She had a weak immune system.”

“She’s talking about a plant,” Riki clarified.

“I’m mourning, actually.”

Jungwon laughed again, the sound warm enough that your own smile only grew.

Without realizing it, your eyes drifted toward him after every joke.

As if making sure he’d laughed, too.

“I guess it’s a good thing I kept a peony stem, then.” Jungwon gave your hand a gentle squeeze.

“For future refills.”

You blinked up at him.

“You kept it?”

“Of course I did.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks as your gaze dropped to the floor, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself.

“Oh my God,” Riki groaned. “Can you two flirt somewhere else?”

“Thanks for the suggestion, Ki.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before tugging Jungwon toward the hallway.

“C’mon.”

“Where are we going?” Jungwon laughed, letting himself be pulled along.

“My room.”

Riki watched the two of you disappear around the corner before leaning back into the couch with an exaggerated sigh.

“They’re insufferable.”

“They’re cute,” Rei corrected, nudging his shoulder.

His eyes wandered to the empty hallway.

He nodded.

“They are.”

…

Click.

You opened your bedroom door, leading Jungwon inside your room. 

The one you made sure to deep clean so hard Riki had grown tired of hearing you complain through the thin wall, he ended up helping.

…

The air thickened the moment both of you stepped in.

Engulfing your noses with the smell of vanilla, and freshly washed cotton.

Jungwon’s eyes skimmed around the room.

It was you in every corner.

The books perched neatly on the shelves right besides your desk. 

To the polaroids hung on top of your desks, right next to the color blocked time tables of your schedule.

He laughed.

His eyes wandered around again before finding the growing collection of vinyls that found home at the bottom of the shelves.

“Wow—” he crouched down to grab your copy of The Bends. “I didn’t know you listened to Radiohead.” 

You let out a silent giggle before grabbing it out of his hands, and shoving the vinyl back in its place.

“From time to time.” 

He pulled the next one out. 

PARTYNEXTDOOR 4 (P4).

His brows raised, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. 

“And this one?” 

He took a step towards you, before flipping the vinyl to show you the cover.

“What’s this one for?”

Your heart thudded against your chest. 

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip before you looked up to meet his eyes.

“That’s-“ you grabbed the vinyl, fingers grazing his.

A shiver ran down your spine.

“For the next date you take me out on.”

His hand settled carefully at your waist, almost hesitant, like he was waiting to see if you’d pull away.

You didn’t.

If anything, you stepped closer.

“I see you’re already making plans without even asking me,” he leaned down, face barely an inch from yours. 

Your hand crawled up his arm, before settling on his chest.

“Stop pretending, Won.”

You tilted your head up. 

“I know you already got the next one planned.”

His breath fanned against your face at the mere space between you two. 

His eyes darted from your eyes, to your lips. To the way your teeth sunk into them.

Your hand climbed up to meet his neck, warm beneath your touch, as you felt his heart beating from under. 

The space disappearing with every passing second. 

…

Riki cleared his throat.

“If you guys are done with the tour,” he leaned against your doorframe. “Food’s on the way.” 

He walked out before you could even answer.

You took a step back.

Your eyes skimmed the room as the realization of what would’ve happened if Riki hadn’t interrupted settled in your chest.

You weren’t sure if you were grateful. 

Or if you were already secretly planning Riki’s murder.

Jungwon let out a quiet laugh through his nose, rubbing the back of his neck.

“He sure has incredible timing.”

Jungwon crouched back down to place your vinyl back to where it belonged.

You nodded, a smile creeping up your lips, as the tension eased.

“You hungry?” you found his hands as you pulled him towards the hallway.

“I could eat.” 

♱

“Just large and in charge,” you muttered.

Jungwon spat out the water he was drinking. 

Here the four of you were, sat around your kitchen island, as the food Riki ordered, covered every crevice of the surface.

Fried rice. 

Chow mein.

Orange chicken.

Mongolian beef.

Pecking duck.

Dongpo pork.

Soup dumplings.

Regular Dumplings.

Gyozas.

Siu Mai.

…

“Did you order the entire restaurant?” 

“I was hungry when I placed it!” Riki protested, shoveling another mouthful of chow mein into his mouth.

Rei laughed beside him.

Your face turned in disgust before continuing to douse your plate with hot sauce. 

“Is that even edible?” Jungwon pointed at your plate as he grabbed a spoonful of his fried rice.

“What?” you raised your brow. “Can’t handle a little spice?”

“Y/N, your plate is red.”

“I like the pain.” 

“Concerning.”

He chuckled before he continued to eat.

Riki glanced at the two of you for a second before looking at Rei beside him. 

“Why aren’t you eating?” 

Her face contorted to a playful scowl.

“I lost my appetite by just looking at you eat like a pig.” 

He set his chopsticks down on the counter.

“What does everybody have against me today?” 

You giggled as you pointed your chopsticks at him.

“Riki, close your mouth.”

“The noodle looks like it’s going to climb out of your nostrils any second now.”

Jungwon heaved out a laugh from beside you. 

“You’re all going to pay for that.”

He pointed toward the cases of soju stacked on the other side of the island.

“We’re playing Truth or Drink.”

Rei groaned. 

“Already?”

“Especially now.” Riki grinned.

You gulped.

Because the escape alcohol once provided you in, was now contorted with every memory of what it caused between the two boys sitting around you. 

…

Not like that ever stopped you anyway.

♱

So you found yourself in the orange tufted couch. 

Yet again. 

With yet another soju, spinning on the carpet that now occupied the space.

You’ve had a few shots. 

The dinner sat low in your stomach as the alcohol slowly wrapped your body in its blanket.

But you weren’t drunk. 

You needed to underestimate how much you could handle to not repeat the previous nights you’ve had. Plus, Jungwon was sat beside you, again. 

You really didn’t want a repeat of last time considering how great the day had been going between the two of you. 

Add the fact that Rei now occupied the space right next to Riki. 

So, tonight was going to be a regret-free night. 

You’d hoped.

…

The questions started off easy. 

Who was your childhood crush? 

“Leonardo Dicaprio. I had Titanic on repeat when I was a kid.” Rei answered. 

“Riki used to force me to hit the pose,” you pointed at him. “As Jack.”

Riki lost his composure as he toppled over the couch, clutching his stomach at the memory.

Rei glanced at him before giggling herself.

Jungwon watched the way your eyes disappeared behind your cheeks, the same expression from the picture before, only now seeing it first hand.

The bottle spun towards Jungwon.

What’s the dumbest thing you’ve spent your money on?

“Lord of the Rings: Lego set. I was trying to impress this girl, it turns out she hated anything to do with fantasy.”

You found his arm as you looked at him with a raised brow.

Cats or dogs?

“Easy. Cats. Dogs are messy.” Rei quipped.

What’s your biggest fear?

“My projects.” Jungwon deadpanned.

Rei snickered a laugh. 

You hit Jungwon’s arms.

Riki tried to hide the smile that crept up his face, but failed miserably. 

What’s your type? 

“Tall, broad shoulders, tiny waist,” you turned to Jungwon. “Dimples.”

“Sounds like someone I know,” Rei snickered as she glanced at the two of you before sipping her soju.

Jungwon looked up at you, before giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

What’s one thing you’ll never tolerate in a relationship?

“I don’t do relationships.” Rei took a sip of her soju. 

Makes sense. 

She seemed to always keep Riki at arm's length. 

Have you ever sent a text to the wrong person?

“I texted Rei ‘daddy’ once. It was meant for Jake.” Riki let out a laugh. 

“Why would you even—” Jungwon muttered before taking a swig of his own drink.

“I was feeling spicy.”

Biggest Red flag you have? 

Jungwon didn’t miss a beat.

“Waiting six years to make a move,”

Your cheeks burned.

You gulped down your bottle.

Rei nodded solemnly.

"Fair."

Favorite sex position?

You didn’t even hesitate.

“Cowgirl.”

…

Silence.

…

“I like seeing their expressions.”

Riki snorted the soju he was drinking out of his nose.

He doubled over, clutching his chest, coughing into his drink.

“Jesus Christ,” he wheezed.

Rei bursted into tears, laughing, as she reached over to smack his back.

“You good?”

“No.”

Meanwhile, Jungwon took a slow sip of his soju.

“Noted.”

Hm.

Worst place you’ve had sex. 

The bottle pointed at Jungwon. 

“The library.” 

He glanced at you.

Your stomach flipped.

Rei blinked.

“Our school’s library?”

Jungwon nodded before he found the back of his neck, rubbing.

“Yeah,” he grabbed his drink. “It was finals week. The stress got to me to be honest.”

He met your eyes. 

“And next thing you know, it was midnight…” 

“I was frustrated to say the least.”

He let out an awkward laugh.

“Safe to say,” you muttered, holding his eyes. “I’m never going there with you. Ever.”

Jungwon nodded, his dimples flashing against his cheeks.

Riki's eyes lingered on your intertwined hands for a beat before he reached for another bottle.

Everyone followed.

Then, your plan went out the window as the bottle kept spinning and the stacks of alcohol disappeared with it.

The bottle landed on Riki, who was now leaning against the couch as if he was sinking into them.

Have you ever been jealous of someone your crush was talking to?

He immediately reached for the soju.

Tilted his head up, before taking a long swig.

With no hesitation.

“That bad?” Rei questioned from beside him.

Riki shrugged.

The three of you glanced at each other. 

You didn’t know about that story.

The bottle spun again.

Rank everyone’s first impression. Best to worst.

“Riki, Rei,” Jungwon turned to you. “Then, Y/N.”

“Elaborate,” you raised your brows.

“Riki was super nice. He got me into the soccer team freshman year.”

“Rei, just because she seems nice. Plus, I don’t really know her that well.”

“Y/N because,” he bit his lip, a smirk tugging in the corner. “You used to not utter a single word or glance in my direction when I first met you.”

You froze.

“Not my fault you’re hot as fuck.”

You drank as you glanced at him from the side.

Jungwon choked mid sip.

Rei laughed.

Riki found comfort in his empty bottle.

Have you ever regretted kissing someone?

The bottle pointed at you accusingly.

Memories of the first night came flashing back, uninvited.

…

The way his legs sprawled, asking for you to settle in between.

His soft pink, plump lips luring you to have just a taste.

And the way his Chromeheart littered fingers held your hips so tightly as if afraid you’d disappear from on top of him.

…

You reached for your drink.

Forcing the memory down your throat along with the alcohol that burned through you.

Your eyes subconsciously found Riki’s — only to find it already looking back at you.

Jungwon noticed. 

The bottle spun again.

What’s the most attractive thing someone can do without touching you?

“Being genuine.” 

Jungwon bumped his shoulders against yours, as he took another sip.

Reality washed over you.

Then, as if the world had to remind you of your tremendous bad luck. 

The bottle spun again, finding its way back to you.

When was the last time you had a wet dream? 

You froze.

The memories of the morning came rushing back as heat crawled up your neck, burning all the way down your throat.

Your ears went red.

The room stilled.

Silence.

You and Riki reached for the same bottle. 

…

His eyes heavy-lidded, met yours, before you grabbed the bottle next to his. 

Fingers gracing his knuckles as he did the same.

You both drank.

No one said anything.

No one had to.

Rei and Jungwon exchanged a glance.

♱

The air had shifted somewhere between the jokes and the confessions.

Somewhere between the empty bottles collecting on the coffee table and the questions no one expected to answer.

None of you could remember whose turn it was anymore.

Or how many shots you'd had.

“I think that’s enough for tonight,” Rei suggested as she looked at Riki. “You look like you're being swallowed by the couch.

“Fuck off,” he leaned forward. “How are you not even drunk?”

“I am,” she leaned her head against his shoulder. “Just not as much as you guys.”

He rolled his eyes before wrapping his arms around her. 

“I’m honest.”

“I think we’re done too,” you muttered. 

Your vision, hazy and warm.

You somehow found your way on the floor, sprawled against Jungwon’s chest. 

Beside the empty bottles of soju.

He giggled from under you causing your head to shake along with it.

“Wait,” Jungwon all of sudden got up, forcing you along with him as his hands settled on your waist, steadying you. “What time is it?”

“Late enough,” you slurred as you forced your eyes to focus. 

“Shit.”

“What?” 

You forced one eye open.

Riki glanced at the empty bottles beside the two of you.

“Yeah, you’re not driving.”

Jungwon rubbed his hands along his face.

Fuck. 

It didn’t even occur to you. Great fucking host you were.

“I know.”

You bit your lip, guilt eating you up whole, as you forced yourself to sit up straight.

The room spun.

…

“I mean,” Rei glanced at Jungwon. “I was already staying the night.”

Your eyes glimmered as you glanced at Jungwon.

“I mean…” you looked up at him sheepishly. “I do have a queen bed you know.” 

Your head flopped against his chest.

You sighed.

The warmth of both Jungwon from underneath you and the alcohol that coursed through your bloodstream, had now enveloped you in a blanket, your lids growing heavier with every passing second.

Your fingers lazily curled against the fabric of his shirt.

Jungwon looked down at you, before a smile appeared on his face. 

He could get used to this.

“Yeah…” he retorts. “You’re drunk.”

He slipped a strand of your hair behind your ear, watching the way you breathing slowly evened out against him.

“Crash on the couch.” Riki suggested as he got up to his feet. 

You stirred.

…

“Not the couch.”

…

“Anywhere but there.”

…

Riki’s entire body froze.

Before finding your slumped form against Jungwon’s chest. 

Jungwon's hand still rested lightly against your waist.

His jaw tightened.

He forced himself to look away.

Forced his feet to move.

Forced himself toward his bedroom before he could think too hard about the way your voice still sounded half asleep.

…

Jungwon watched Riki walk into his room before coming back with a blanket and a pillow. 

Riki set it down on the couch, before his eyes settled on you now deep asleep against Jungwon. 

He strode towards you but stopped. 

…

Rei glanced at him from the side.

…

Jungwon was quicker. 

He was already on his feet, picking you up in one swift motion, as he curdled you against him. 

“I got her.”

Riki's hands hung uselessly at his sides.

For a second.

Just a second.

He almost reached for you anyway.

Then he let them fall.

“Night.”

Before forcing himself to walk back to his room, tucking away the slow tug of his heart at the sight of you in Jungwon’s arms.

Before the room closed him in with Rei right beside him. 

prev > masterlist < next

jm corner 𑁤 : this is probably one of the hardest chapters i've had to write so bare w me if you get lost in there.

the writer's block hitting me hard asf rn. i have the rest of the chapters mapped out but writing it genuinely feels like im being clawed out from the insides.

also sad af i'm not seeing my men in a week. stuck at work. hating life. but wtv. (i'm spitting in everybody's drink)

Synopsis: Riki has been by your side for as long as you can remember. Every childhood memory, every milestone, every stupid decision—you've never had to face it without him lingering somewhere nearby. So when junior year rolls around and dorm life comes to an end, moving into an apartment together feels less like a choice and more like the obvious next step.

But sharing four walls leaves little room for the distance friendship once provided. As routines intertwine and boundaries blur, the line between comfort and longing becomes harder to ignore.

Warnings: NSFW, kissing, making out, clothed, friction, tension, slight angst. minords DNI

WC: 3812

prev > masterlist < next

IV. Ghosts ♱

Lesson 4: Never sleep with Riki.

Or more like, never accidentally fall asleep with your best friend on a tiny ass couch because you just never know what you’re going to wake up to. 

Because apparently, you liked to whimper in your sleep, with your breath panning against his neck, hips constricting and unconsciously grinding, while your arms wrapped around his stomach. 

Because just like Riki, you too had the same unconscious desire to engulf yourself in warmth— Riki, now under you completely.

And because, apparently, the images you tried to keep tucked away while you were conscious, had now found their way into your subconscious. 

Riki sat as you straddled him on the couch, completely lost in your neck as you gave him space to devour it. Leaning against his Chrome-hearts littered hands that ripped away at your back. Engulfed in the warmth of his tongue and wet, slippery kisses as it continued to dance along your throat, before climbing up again to reclaim yours. You whimpered in his mouth only to have him answer you with a deeper feverish desire to mold the two of you into one.

Your hands found the nook of his neck before climbing up to comb your finger through his warm golden locks, pulling and tugging as his tongue continued to twirl around yours. 

“Fuck…” His teeth found your lower lip, as he grinded into you. 

You felt the warm weight of his cock as he drove into you between your damped thin pajamas and his gray sweatpants. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so fucking long,” he whispered in between assaulting your tongue and baring his teeth into your bottom lip. His hand traveled from the warmth of your back before finding your throat, gripping, holding you firm against him as his lips left yours, before sliding against your cheek to find the warmth of your ears. 

He dragged his tongue along your lobe, circling, before driving his mouth against yours once again. His hand tightened against your throat as his other hand slid down to hold your hips firm against him as he continuously rocked his weight against you. Lips never leaving yours. 

His hands left your throat before finding your cupped breast, engulfing it with his warm hands. He twirled your erected nipples that threatened to rip the tight spaghetti strap shirt that clung against you. 

The new invasion causing you to moan and wriggle against his mouth.

The heat of his desires from under you only reignited the burn you felt between your clothed cunt, causing you to roll your hips against his.

And in your subconscious desires, the thin line between dreams and reality blurred the lines along with your consciousness.

Your hips grinded against his as you straddled him on the couch, still half-asleep. 

Riki's eyes opened, dazed from sleep as you continued to grind your hips slowly against his. 

His breath stilled. 

Your uneven breath panned against his neck as the heat of your cunt met him continuously. 

His arms that were wrapped around you stilled behind your back as you unconsciously continued the rhythm of your hips against his. 

To make matters worse, his morning wood continued to meet the friction in between you. Leaving no room for an escape, as your body wrapped around his own. 

The reality set in. 

The warmth of the morning sun fanned against his face, only engulfing his senses with you even more.

He was losing air. 

And your sleep induced desires had found itself in your waking life. 

Your hand clutched the shirt stretched against his chest, as your breathing filled his ears. 

Eyes heavy from sleep, the heat of you strangled him even more.

He needed to move. 

He lifted his hips,

Only to meet yours already moving on their own. 

That just made it worse. 

You opened your mouth slightly against his neck, causing the air to thicken in the room.

You whimpered.

Riki bit his lip, his last thread of control whisking away. Fuck.

His hips rose again, at the same time as yours grinded against him. Before finding a rhythm that continued to ignite a burn in between the thin clothes separating you. 

Half awake, vision still blurred from the fantasies confined in your dreams, your hips drove into him deeper. Meeting the hardness of his cock in between your folds as you continued to the set rhythm. 

Your tongue slipped from your mouth before meeting his neck as you slid it along the vast space. 

His hands traveled from your back to your hips as you slowly let the warmth engulf all of your senses. 

The movement caused the couch to sink Riki deeper from under you. 

When your open mouth traveled along his neck to meet his collarbone, before coming up to meet the warmth of lips.

…

His hands stilled. 

Your eyes shot wide open.

Your hips stopped.

Reality crashed over you all at once.

The refrigerator hummed in the silence of the apartment.

Morning light spilled across the living room.

Your legs were still wrapped around his waist.

His hands rested uncertainly at your hips.

And your lips...

Your lips were on his.

“I—”

You shot up.

“Dont—”

Riki’s voice croaked. 

Because you just made matters worse. 

The weight of you, now completely on him.

“Please.”

Riki's eyes shut, strained, before biting his lips. 

You scrambled onto your feet, untangling from him.

“Fuck—” 

“I’m sorry… I was—” 

Your mind searched for an explanation.

“Just—”

“I thought— I was dreaming.”

You searched his eyes.

“Fuck, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry—”

“Please. Don’t explain it right now.”

Riki got up, before propping his elbows on his knees, dropping his head against his palms, not meeting your eyes. 

“I was half awake! I didn’t know what I was doing!”

You tried to explain. The heat of what just happened was replaced by the embarrassment that crept up your neck up to your cheeks, turning it bright and crimson. 

“I said. Don’t!” 

Riki raised his voice for the first time. 

“I’m sorry.” 

His tone softened.

“Just—”

“... Just forget it.”

He got up, before turning around and walking towards his room. 

…

Click. 

The door shut behind him.

For the first time. 

…

And for the first time, you had nothing left to say. 

No insults. 

No comebacks.

No explanation.

Because now, you crossed a line you didn’t know if you could return from. 

♱

The days that followed consisted of doing everything in your power to avoid the weight of that morning.

And, as always, Riki mirrored you.

Gone before you woke for your morning coffee. Only returning long after you'd found somewhere else to be.

The few times your schedules overlapped were reduced to quiet exchanges.

"Heading out?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"See you."

That was all.

The apartment had grown impossibly quiet.

Not because it was empty.

But because the two of you had somehow learned to exist inside it without existing with each other.

You'd hear the faint click of his bedroom door closing as you stepped into the kitchen. The muffled sound of a shower through the wall. Cabinets opening. Footsteps pacing down the hallway. The soft thud of music leaking beneath his door.

Proof that he was there.

Yet, somehow, he felt farther away than when he'd lived in an entirely different building.

It was like sharing an apartment with a ghost.

Two ghosts, really.

Each haunting opposite ends of the same lease, waiting for the other to disappear before daring to step into the hallway.

Because the space that used to be filled with Riki was now empty. 

…

So, here you were, sitting in a booth in a new coffee shop that Manon insisted she had to try, with Chaewon and Sophia grambling about something… you didn’t really know.

Your mouth chewed at your straw as you watched people flash by through the window, half listening to the conversation. 

“Earth to Y/N.” 

Chaewon waved her hand in front of your face.

“We were asking you which one you think Manon should wear for her date?” Sophia asked as she lifted Manon’s phone showing you two very contradicting options.

“That one literally screams rip it open daddy,” you said as you pointed at the dress with only enough fabric to hide the important parts.

“And that one looks like something you’d wear for a christening." 

“Ok so the first one?” Manon tucked her phone away.

You rolled your eyes but nodded anyways.

Sophia chuckled.

“Enough talk. Are you ever gonna tell us what’s going on with you?” Manon said as she grabbed her straw before sipping at the invisible matcha.

“Actually, yeah,” Chaewon started. “I mean. I love hanging out with you girl, but we went from seeing you once a month to everyday.”

“Add the fact that Riki’s not clinging to your side wherever you go.” Sophia added.

At the mention of Riki, you straightened before clearing your throat, and averting your gaze away from your friends back to the passerbys.

You had been going out practically everyday. 

Not because you had nothing to do.

You had a lot to tend to. 

You always did.

You hadn’t even answered the piling calls your mom was leaving in your messages. Nor tended to the lists of studying materials you were continuing to be buried under with every passing day.

But you desperately needed to occupy the space Riki left along with him when he walked out of you in the living room.

Because being alone only left you with thoughts of him that lingered in the aftermath.

Manon noticed the tension in your chest. 

“Ok so that’s it. Now, spill.”

“Nothing happened.” Your fingers found your nails before digging into them.

Sophia and Chaewon looked down.

“Look,” Chaewon started. “I know that we’re always on your ass about him. But, genuinely… We know something happened. You don’t have to talk about it now, but we’re always here when you're ready.”

Maybe, this was what you needed. 

To talk. 

Because your apartment seemed to be doing none of that these days.

“I don’t know.”

You said looking down at your hands.

“If I tell you guys… promise this stays between us.”

Your fingers dug into your skin turning it crimson.

“Of course,” Sophia grabbed your hands.

“We’ve just been so weird ever since moving in together.” You lifted your elbows onto the table before propping your head against your hands.

“Like…” 

“We were fine even after the kiss…”

They looked at each other before nodding, motioning for you to continue.

You looked up.

“But, I can’t get him out of my head. Like actually.”

“At first, it was easy to pretend like nothing even happened. And then that night at the club happened. With Jungwon and all. He took us home…”

“And I basically told him to sleep with me.”

Chaewon’s eyes shot wide open.

Manon’s jaw struck.

Sophia stopped drinking her coffee entirely.

You scrunched your face.

“Not like that. Just like sleeping. Literally.” 

They eased. 

“Then the next day, we went to the gym together and I basically assaulted this man with my eyes.”

“Like when did he actually get so fucking fine bro?”

You rubbed your hands against your face.

“He’s always been fine girl,” Sophia interjected, earning a slap on her arm from Chaewon.

“Ok, continue.” Manon said as she waved her hand.

“Then bro… I was just trying to get that kiss tattoo out of my head so I decided. Right… maybe I should shower.”

“But then… he walked in on me naked as fuck.”

“WHAT—”

“NO FUCKING WAY—”

“ACTUALLY—”

They all yelled at the same time.

But you needed to get it out of you.

“It was obviously awkward as fuck. But again, we moved on. Because what are you supposed to do in that situation?”

“Obviously I knew what I was signing up for when I moved in with him.”

“I just..."

You stared down into your coffee.

"I didn't think I'd start looking at him differently."

“He’s always just been Riki.”

Your laugh came out hollow.

"Now I can't stop thinking about him. His cologne. His tattoo. His stupid smirk”

“Everywhere I go, he’s there.”

You swallowed.

"And then..."

You sighed, before looking up, bracing for the impact of the words that were about to come out of your mouth. 

“I fucking grinded on him in my sleep… because I was dreaming about him basically fucking me.”

You closed your eyes and hid behind your palms letting it dig into your forehead.

They froze.

“Nothing actually happened. But after that…”

You shook your head.

“He won’t even look at me anymore.”

“We haven’t had a proper conversation in days. And I keep thinking… maybe I should just talk to him about it…”

“Explain…”

“But nothing would come out of my stupid mouth every time I tried…”

“Plus… I thought he would reach out by now y’know…”

“But nothing.”

“He’s always gone by the time up. And every time I go home, his door is already closed.”

“He’s never done that before with me dude. Obviously he’s avoiding me. And I really don’t know what to do. I’m like internally freaking out.”

You sighed before dropping your head against the table with a thud.

“Y/N…” Sophia wrapped her arms around your shoulders. “I don’t think you’re freaking out because it was awkward.”

“I think you’re freaking out because you wanted it to be everyone but Riki…” Chaewon grabbed your hands. “... But it wasn’t.”

“Or…” Manon said, now forcing you to meet her eyes.

“Because you wanted it to be him.”

“Manon…”

“No, look Y/N you know I’m always going to keep it real with you,” her voice softened as she grabbed your other hand. “But clearly, that kiss did something to you guys. And if we’re being pretty fucking honest, you wanted it.”

“You chose to kiss him. Not the other way around.”

“Drunk or not, you did that.”

“And then you tell the man that it didn’t mean anything? Of course he’d be deluded. Wouldn’t you be?”

“And you guys just moved in too.” 

“That’s so intimate. Of course you’re going to see him differently.”

“You guys just need to genuinely talk it out.”

“The real question though, is what do you want to happen after? Because that we can help with.”

“Naming how you feel about him isn’t something we can do. That’s something only you can.”

You lowered your head against your arm because she was right. 

She was always right. 

“Did you want it to be Riki?” Manon questioned as she squeezed your hand as you looked up.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t know.”

“I just want my friend back.”

Manon nodded.

“Are you just horny then?” Sophia muttered.

“Clearly.” You exasperated.

“Then… I think, you need to talk to Riki. Figure it out between the two of you.”

“Then, get you some good old Jungwon dick.” Sophia said as she sipped her drink again.

Right.

Jungwon.

The one person who wasn't tangled up in every memory you had of that apartment.

Maybe Sophia was right.

Maybe you just needed distance.

Someone uncomplicated.

Someone who wasn't Riki.

“She’s right,” Chaewon said as she straightened out from across you. “You’re clearly just frustrated with everything else. With your nursing stuff and all, plus moving in and out. Like, that’s exhausting.”

She leaned towards you.

“And Riki being so close is probably just making you a little delulu.”

“Dicklulu is the solulu,” Sophia muttered.

You barked out a laugh, finally easing the tension in your chest.

“Ok,” Manon started. “In all seriousness, if it’s only friendship that you want from Riki, then talk to him about it. You guys were always good at that.”

“Some space might be good too.”

“That’s,” she pointed at your phone. 

“When you bring in Jungwon. Don’t bring him into this mess.”

You nodded.

Because for the first time in days, the ache in your chest eased. 

♱

Silence answered you when you walked into your apartment.

The refrigerator hummed in the background, broken only by the rhythmic tapping of Riki's keyboard behind his bedroom door.

Darkness swallowed the apartment, interrupted by the faint purple glow spilling through the crack beneath his door.

Closed.

Again.

You had decided to muster up all your courage from the walk home from the cafe after bidding farewell from your friends. Manon insisted on roleplaying the conversation with them, which in all honestly, didn’t really help because they’d always manage to crack jokes in between.

Not that you minded. 

It eased the tension in your chest anyway.

But, after replaying the supposed dialogue that was supposed to take place in between you, you were met again with the reality of the space that filled your now empty apartment. 

You would have hope…

Riki would be cooking.

Or showering. 

Or doing anything beside being behind yet another closed door. 

The water filled your lungs again.

Every ounce of courage you'd borrowed from the cafe dissolved before you could take another step.

Forcing you to realize that you were once again the one that needed to reach out to him. 

To break the silence that was really beginning to raise the bile sitting on your stomach and the heat that was burning through your skin causing the fabric of your tight shirt to constrict against your neck. 

Your legs felt heavy with each thud as you made your way through the dim hallway.

Heart thudding so loudly against your chest that it filled the sounds in the room, only making the space even smaller. 

Thud. Thud. Thud.

The tapping of his keyboard stopped on the other side.

…

Knock. 

For the first time. 

You took a deep breath. 

You heard the chair screech against the hardwood floor. 

Tap. Tap. Tap. 

His footsteps made their way towards the other side. 

A moment. 

… 

Swish. 

The door swung open.

You looked up to meet Riki.

Headphones hung loosely around his neck. Loose oversized hoodie shoved carelessly against the length of his forearms, the same gray sweatpants from the gym hanging dangerously low against his hips. Hair pulled in all directions as if he’d been running through it all evening. Purple LED lights spilled past him, outlining him in violet.

You gulped. 

Palms growing clammy every second, heart continuing the set rhythm of thudding against your chest threatening to break out open.

Your voice rang in your ears. 

“Can we talk?”

Riki’s hand rubbed against his neck. 

“Yeah.”

The hallway constricted against your already tight shirt. 

Your legs, heavy, immovable. 

He cleared his throat before his eyes narrowed to the living room.

Towards the couch. 

Nope. Not there. Anywhere, but there.

“Kitchen?”

He nodded. 

You turned and began making your way to the shared kitchen. Already feeling the tension in your chest grow heavier with each step.

You found the empty space between the kitchen island and the refrigerator from behind you.

Riki leaned on the kitchen stool on the opposite side.

“If this is about the morning, Y/N,” His hand combed through his hair. “Forget about it.”

Your hands stilled from picking at your nails.

Not exactly the dialogue that you replayed in your head. 

“But, I can’t—”

“Not…”

You scrambled for words that could explain the weight that was gnawing at your throat. 

“Not when you can’t even have a proper conversation with me, Ki.”

His fingers found the envelope of his rings as he looked down, twirling them. 

“Not when you’re avoiding me like a plague.”

You leaned against the fridge, eyes searching for his. 

“I’m not avoiding you.”

He looked up, eyes heavy with an expression you couldn’t name. 

“Yes.”

“Yes. You are.”

“You’re gone by the time I’m up. And when I come home, you’re already in your room. Doing God knows what.”

Riki rubbed his hands on his face as he leaned against the counter. 

“I’ve just—”

“I’m just trying to control myself.”

Huh.

“Control yourself?”

That caught you off guard. 

Because if anything, you were doing that.

“To stop replaying everything.”

A broken laugh came out of him.

“Ever since that kiss—”

The memory of the drunken night played in your brain.

“The shower—”

He looked down.

“That morning.”

He looked up to meet your eyes.

“Every time I looked at you... it was all I could think about.”

The lump in your throat grew heavier. 

Your skin burned.

Fuck. 

“I’ve missed you so much. You don’t even understand.”

And that was your undoing. 

Your legs felt like jello, threatening to lose the balance that you worked so hard on building. 

And the facade of everything you’ve carefully constructed. 

The perfect daughter. 

The perfect sister.

The perfect student.

The one who always had everything together.

Came crashing all at once, as the tears that burned pressure into your skull, clawed its way out of your eyes before you could even blink it away.

Like you always did.

“I’ve missed you too.”

You looked down as a tear cascaded down your cheeks.

Your eyes, blurry, grazed the crescent moons that dug into your palms. 

Riki searched for your face as his heart thumped against his chest at the realization.

“But—”

“I just want us to be normal again.”

He froze.

…

He wanted to tell you that normal had slipped through their fingers the moment you kissed him.

The moment you moved in.

Maybe even years before that.

But the words never came.

“Me too.”

…

Your heart slowed.

Not from relief that you were okay again. 

But from a realization that you could never lose the man sitting in front of you in any lifetime. 

Because a week of his absence already felt like being submerged under the darkness of water once again.

…

Your eyes glazed at the couch past his shoulders. 

He followed your gaze.

A beat.

“I think this apartment is haunted.”

He snorted.

Like actually snorted—

The first genuine laugh you’ve heard from him in days.

“We’re buying a bigger couch.”

He shook his head.

“I’m burning that fucking couch,” you deadpanned.

He clutched his stomach as he roared.

“Mmh—”

“Never sleeping on that thing again.”

He met your eyes.

“Agreed.”

You both looked away as the memory passed quietly between you.

The apartment didn't feel haunted anymore.

Just different.

You just didn’t know if you were ready for that. 

…

“Some space might be good too.”

Manon’s voice echoed in your head.

…

You cleared your throat.

“Actually—”

Riki met your eyes again.

“I’ve been meaning to invite Jungwon.”

He raised his brows.

“Right—”

“The invite.”“

He scratched the back of his neck. 

“Rei’s been wanting to hang out too.”

You let out an awkward laugh. 

Heat crawled up your neck, tugging the corners of your lips into a hesitant smile.

“Maybe we should stop haunting the apartment.”

Riki looked around. 

“Probably.”

prev > masterlist < next

jm corner 𑁤 : hey so when did writing become so freeing? i was literally pouring myself through these characters. can't even imagine. also, should i open a tag list?

Synopsis: Riki has been by your side for as long as you can remember. Every childhood memory, every milestone, every stupid decision—you've never had to face it without him lingering somewhere nearby. So when junior year rolls around and dorm life comes to an end, moving into an apartment together feels less like a choice and more like the obvious next step.

But sharing four walls leaves little room for the distance friendship once provided. As routines intertwine and boundaries blur, the line between comfort and longing becomes harder to ignore.

Warnings: minors DNI. mutual pining. descriptions of physiques, makeout flashbacks. tension.

WC: 4746

prev > masterlist < next

III. Thin walls ♱

When you opened your eyes the next morning, it felt as though time itself had been waiting for you to finally face all the bullshit you'd put your body through the night before.

Your head throbbed relentlessly as you forced yourself upright, every movement threatening to split your skull in two.

Your throat burned—raw and dry from everything that had come back up only a few hours earlier.

God.

You were never touching another drink again.

As sunlight filtered through your blinds, you squinted against it, blindly reaching across your desk until your fingers found a bottle of water and ibuprofen already waiting for you.

...

So you weren't going to die today after all.

Bummer.

You downed the pills without a second thought. 

You didn't even bother counting how many you'd taken. You just needed the pain gone.

Your liver could survive another day.

Right now, temporary relief was all you cared about.

As the water traveled down your throat, you could practically feel life returning to your body.

Your gaze drifted around the room—to the pile of dirty clothes still abandoned on the floor from last night, then to the fresh pajamas you'd somehow woken up wearing.

When did I even—

...

Doesn't matter.

The thought alone threatened to split your head open.

Not right now.

One problem at a time.

You pushed yourself to your feet, one hand clutching your temple as you shuffled toward the kitchen.

Riki was already there.

He cracked an egg against the edge of the pan before dropping it into the sizzling butter, an iced coffee waiting on the counter beside him.

Exactly how you liked it.

He glanced over his shoulder, a smirk tugging at his lips.

"So you meet another day."

You grabbed the coffee first, taking a grateful sip before answering.

"Literally die."

You flipped him off with your free hand.

"I'm guessing you feel like you got shat out?"

"I'm gonna shit in your mouth if you keep talking."

"Please do." He didn't even look up from the pan. "It's been number one on my bucket list ever since we moved in."

You stared at him for a beat.

"...You're such a freak."

You sat on the kitchen stool, leaning against your elbow before propping your head against your palm. 

Riki looked up to finally look at you. 

“Wow, you really do look horrible.”

“Yeah?” you said, meeting his eyes “Well, you look like you got drawn by my left hand but you don’t see me saying that in this ungodly hour, are you?”

“Wow, you’re probably feeling death knocking at your door but you still made the effort to insult me,” he touched his chest. “I really am special.”

This fuckass dude.

“Anyway,” he turned the stove off as the eggs threatened to burn under him. 

Never let this man near a fucking kitchen. 

“Get ready because I’ve been itching to try that gym in our lovely apartment,” He said with a full smile as he looked at you before dropping the eggs on a plate before slidding it towards you. 

“Riki.” You grabbed the plate before reaching for a fork, but he was already grabbing one for you. 

“Have you ever heard of the term resting?”

“Nope.” He popped his lips as he grabbed a protein bar from the cabinet behind him.

"Well, dumbass," you muttered, shoveling a forkful into your mouth.

...

You immediately regretted it.

Burnt.

Somehow both rubbery and dry.

Never let this man cook unsupervised.

“It’s what you do when you’ve spent the last few weeks of your life being threatened with a noose around your neck because of the amount of shit you have to do.”

He rolled his eyes before leaning on his elbows, looking at you.

“Nah. That’s just the hangover from last night because you seem to like pushing your limits.”

He smiled teasingly.

“What the fuck even happened last night?”

His hand dropped from his elbows.

“Damn. Did you really black out?” He said as he got up and walked towards the couch in the living room behind you.

You turned around, grabbed your plate and your coffee before following him into the couch, taking the seat beside him. 

He grabbed the remote, turning the console on, controller already in his hand, Fortnite on the screen. 

What a kid.

“The only thing I remembered is dancing with the girls—”

You paused. 

Flashes of the drunken conversation replayed in your head about the kiss. 

The images that followed recall back to that same couch.

“Then, Jungwon.”

The invite.

And, 

The way Riki’s eyes met yours as you reached for him under the darkness in your room and the cloud that alcohol engulfed you in. Asking him to stay with you. 

His hesitance.

 “Nothing else.”

You said as you took a bite, before looking down at the plate.

You felt the contents of last night threaten to raise the bile sitting in your stomach. 

You were definitely going to have to pay for talking to the girls about it. You mentally slapped yourself for refusing to let the images go.

You really were never drinking again. 

Also, fuck your friends.

“That’s… all you remember?” he said as looked at you with an unreadable expression.

“Yep.”

This was definitely not the time to recall his warmth from under you. 

Ignorance was bliss after all.

You set the plate down on the coffee table before propping your knees up against your chest as you settled more on the couch. 

The ibuprofen was definitely helping because the headache eased before you even realized. 

Maybe it was the coffee though, caffeine addict and all.

Riki briefly glanced at your bare legs before forcing his eyes back into the screen.

“What about how Jungwon finally asked for a grand tour—” he lifted his free hand, quoting, “‘Just the two of you’”. 

Your stomach twisted.

Right. 

You did remember that. 

You also remembered how you told him to be your chair before basically assaulting the man with your dead weight. 

God, you really had to stop meeting Jungwon while you were drunk because you really were just embarrassing. 

But the images that overtook the embarrassment over Jungwon, was your hand reaching for Riki. 

You gulped.

“I’m definitely following up on that,” you grabbed the hem of your—Riki’s—shirt.“Just obviously, not right now. I do look like I just got spat out.”

He huffed out a laugh.

You couldn't help smiling as you shoved the thoughts that lingered.

“Tomorrow?” he said before setting the controller down. “Maybe, I can even ask Rei to come over?” 

He glanced at you. 

His tone stayed light.

Casual.

Almost too casual.

Oh.

Rei—

That’s been a while. 

You hadn’t heard him mention her in a while. 

Beneath the packed schedules, the finals, packing and unpacking, and whatever last night was, you almost forgot. Riki and Rei had been doing... whatever it was they did... since the beginning of last semester.

Not dating.

Not not dating.

Just existing in that weird gray area neither of them ever seemed interested in defining.

You paused. 

“That would actually be nice.”

You sat up.

Rei was nice. Lovely even. 

You got along with her. Unlike the handful of girls before her, Rei had never treated you like competition.

She'd just...

Treated you like Riki's best friend.

And you clearly needed a distraction. 

Honestly, the thought of being alone with Jungwon petrified you to your core because of the way you found yourself time and time again reaching for someone that wasn’t him.

It was selfish really, but you just needed to remind yourself of who was supposed to fill that space in your brain.

“Give them a tour and all… together?”

“Is that even a question,” he said as he got up, A bright blue Victory Royale flashed across the television. “Now, come on. The gym is waiting.”

“Ugh.” You rolled your eyes. 

“Fine.”

You got up.

Maybe sweating it out would finally quiet everything buzzing around in your head.

♱

When you agreed to go to the gym together, you were expecting Riki to do his own thing. 

Not become your own personal trainer. 

Especially considering you were still hungover. 

And because, for some godforsaken reason, Riki insisted on working out…

Fucking shirtless. 

So, yes. You were distracted. 

The red kiss mark tattoo that peaked through, just on top of his sweatpants, seemingly staring back at you was definitely not fucking helping. 

And because, his sweats just kept riding lower and lower. As if moving on its own.

Teasing you. 

This had to be God reminding you of your sins from last night.

“Make sure your back is neutral,” he said as he corrected your form, hands pushing against the bare spot on your back, at the empty space of your sports bra. 

This fucking guy.

You tried again.

One more rep. 

He corrected again, this time pushing the bar of the lateral pull machine, down towards you, before looking down to meet your eyes. 

You let go of the bar.

Almost hitting him straight in the face. 

Oops.

“If you don’t back the fuck up and shut the fuck up, that bar isn’t the only thing barreling towards your head,” you said before finally standing up. “Jackass.”

“Just trying to help.” He said before crouching down, grabbing his water bottle and taking a sip.

You watched as the water trickled down his jaw—so fucking sharp— down his throat, traveling down his chest onto his abs that seemed to tighten just for you. 

You gulped. Throat dry.

Fuck. 

That kiss mark drank it up before you did. 

Your mind betrayed you before you could control it. 

His soft lips puckered around the lid as his throat bobbed. The same ones pressed firm against yours, as it rippled at you with need and want.

His jaw clenched flexed so sharply it looked as if it would crack. The same ones you felt firm against your touch, and remembered the warmth of his hand on your hips as he pulled you closer to him.

His slender fingers married with cold silver rings wrapped around the bottle. The same ones that dug into your back, burning, begging for the space to engulf you two. 

…

He glanced at you from the side as your eyes traveled down his torso, eyes glazed with something he couldn’t name.

“Done checking me out?” 

Your eyes met his as the memories cleared from your mind.

You straightened.

“Not yet, keep going.”

He rolled his eyes as he sat his water bottle down.

“You have another set.”

“Weren’t we supposed to take turns?”

“Not until you get your form correct.” He nudged his head towards the machine, causing you to roll your eyes. 

“Ugh. Why did I even come.”

You sat down again, disappointed at being interrupted but grateful… before raising your arms as you reached for the bar, but falling a little too short. 

Riki grabbed the bar before pushing down, allowing you to claim it.

You pulled the bar toward your chest, keeping your spine neutral this time before slowly letting it rise again.

Focused. 

Again and again.

...

Nothing.

No correction.

You glanced over.

Riki was already reaching for his water bottle.

He took a sip without looking at you.

"...That was eight reps." You let the bar pull you up to your feet. "It's your turn."

He didn't move.

Instead, he looked around the room for a second before nodding toward another machine.

"...Let's try something else."

He turned and walked towards the smith machine.

This was attempted murder. 

In plain sight. 

“Riki.” You deadpanned. Annoyed.

“We’ve tried the seated rows, the leg AND bicep curls, the chest press, and fuck even the free bar.” 

You stood right in front of him, finger pointed at his bare chest.

You had been doing every single exercise as he instructed. 

Complaining, maybe.

Exhausted, definitely.

“And you’ve only done one set.” 

He grabbed your hand.

“All you’ve been doing is correcting my form.” 

You nudged at his hand with yours, but he refused to release his grip. 

“And I thought—” you pushed at his chest, before finally releasing your hand. “This was back day, prick.”

He looked down at you. 

Because it was true. 

But he was distracted. 

Every time you got under the machine, and he tried to correct your form, his eyes always betrayed him. 

Traveling down, watching your back, your legs, your chest that flexed from beneath him, eyes mirroring the water that trickled down from your forehead before disappearing in between your chest that clung so tightly against your ribs.

So he kept switching machines. Blaming it on the way you were stubborn against it. 

Hoping that it would work out in his favor. 

But it didn’t.

Because the sweatier you got, the sweatier his hands did too. 

And he just couldn’t control the urge to correct it.

“Let’s just go home…” He stepped back, gathering his stuff and putting on the loose shirt he discarded.

You were disappointed, nonetheless.

“But you didn’t even work out!”

“Yes, I did!” 

“Technically.”

“How are you even sweating!”

“It’s hot in here!”

“The AC is on!”

“Not enough.”

“Fine.” You gathered your items, “I’m never coming with you again.”

“Yes, you are.” He deadpanned because this was something he could do any time of the day. 

But yeah.

You felt the same way.

And you were already mentally preparing yourself for next time.

♱

Exhausted couldn’t even fully describe the way your body slumped as you and Riki walked into your apartment. 

You were running on empty fumes.

With Riki right beside you looking as if he worked out just the same. 

He didn’t even move a fucking muscle though? What right does he have?

The past hour of stretching your muscles was your body’s final straw at you. Screaming, gnawing at you to finally take a shower and to put the strain of what the last hour was—a definite torture guises as “released frustration”— and the hangover from last night to be scrubbed away clean, with hot water, and a fresh set of new clothes. 

Without a thought, you took your shoes off, and headed for the bathroom as Riki descended down the hall to his room. 

You were running on autopilot. 

Surviving. 

You nudged your foot against the door, not even bothering to lock.

You played your favorite playlist. 

You ran the shower, perfectly warm. 

Not too hot, 

Not cold at all. 

You stripped your gym clothes out of you, onto the bathroom floor. Then went in head first, and let the warm water cascade through your hair down your back. 

You were in heaven.

You needed this so much. 

So, you tried to scrub away the remaining of what clung to you. 

Of every event of the past twenty-four hours. 

But as if your brain had a mind of its own. 

The vision of Riki’s sweat dancing around his endless length of muscle that was subdued by his low ass sweatpants, clinging by sheer will, encrypted itself in your brain yet again. 

The same warm bare chest that was under your head just the night before as it moved up and down, staring at you, breathing at you. 

The same one under your fingers as his mouth engulfed you on the couch, lazed with alcohol and feverish kisses from his cold silver rings that dug at your back. 

The same ones that seemed to find the empty space behind you, time and time again, in the club.

You were drunk-…dazed from his touch. 

And you really needed to get it out of your system.

So, you scrubbed harder and harder.

Hoping and praying the burn and the ghost of his touch, would leave alongside the sweat that clung to your skin.

Your hand found the shower handle before another image displayed in your mind.

Cold, freezing water replaced the envelope of steam.

You yelped.

God. Those endless chapters of the same enigma that you fantasized about, playing the same movies in your mind were definitely coming back to hunt you.

Had to be anyway.

As the cold water cleared your thoughts, your breathing evened out. 

Until turning the handle yet again, to feel the same warmth engulfing you in comfort. 

Better.

…

As the stream of your shower engulfed you as you finished, after turning the handle, you stepped out, and grabbed the towel that hung on the other side of the wall.

… 

Only to be met with Riki’s eyes on you. 

Eyes dragging along the wet strands of your hair as water trickled down onto your chest, down your stomach, onto the hallowed space between your legs.

His jaw came, struck wide open.

Stuck.

“WHAT THE FUCK.”

You scrambled.

Riki fell against the door with a thud.

The door that was cracked open by the way.

“NISHIMURA RIKI GET THE FUCK OUT RIGHT NOW.”

His head turned, scrambled, trying to look at anything but you, only to circle its way back.

“WHY ARE YOU NAKED?”

“I WAS FUCKING SHOWERING! YOU IDIOT!” 

You grabbed the towel and tried to cover yourself. 

Or tried to. 

Because your towel was gone.

This…

This was the one for your face…

“WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU EVEN IN HERE?”

“I WAS GOING TO SHOWER.”

You noticed the clothes in his hands. 

“How did you not hear me?”

“My earbuds were in—”

You saw the white pieces that fell out on the floor beside him. 

Right next to your gym clothes on the floor.

Right next to your underwear. 

In plain view.

Riki’s eyes mirrored yours.

You’d hope you’d slip on soap and bash your head against the ceramic tile.

“OH MY GOD.” Riki screamed.

“YOU HAVE FIVE SECONDS BEFORE I CASTRATE YOUR BALLS WITH MY TEETH.” 

Riki scrambled out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.

Life really enjoyed watching you suffer. 

Because right after, you realized. 

You brought nothing into the bathroom.

Not your robe.

Not new clothes.

Not new underwear. 

Definitely not your towel apparently.

Where was that soap when you needed it? 

Fuck. 

You really needed to remember where and who you lived with, from now on.

“Ki…”

You heard him shuffling in the hallway.

“…Mm… Yeah?” 

“This is really embarrassing…”

“Yeah…”

“Can you please do me a favor?” 

You muttered as you tried to wrap the shower curtain around yourself.

Except it was fucking clear.

You needed to start making better decisions.

“Um…” you hesitated, still trying to find other ways to die. “Can you grab me some new clothes?” 

“I didn’t bring any with me.” 

Silence. 

“… Yeah… Of course.” 

You really needed that soap right about now.

“And underwear too.” 

…

“Right.”

You heard him stumble in the hallway as he got up to his feet. Then heard the creak of your bedroom door right before you heard him shuffling through your drawers. 

His footsteps thudded towards you a moment later before creaking the bathroom door slightly as he reached just his hands in with your clothes. 

And life really liked to see you losing because as you tried for your clothes in his hands, it was too far. 

…

“It’s too far…” you tried reaching for it one last time. 

…

“Can you throw them?”

“I am not throwing your underwear.”

“…”

You sighed. 

“Okay… just…”

You took a deep breath.

Please, soap. Appear.

“… Take one step.”

He took one cautious step inside.

Eyes closed, towards the ceiling.

You reached for your clothes.

And fucking missed.

Just fuck me with chainsaw.

He reached further.

Too close. 

You grabbed his wrist.

You froze.

Instinctively, he looked down.

… 

Regret.

Immediate, irreversible regret.

…

Silence.

…

You snatched your clothes.

“Get out.”

“Right.”

Click.

The door clicked shut.

Inhale.

…

Exhale.

On the other side, Riki leaned on the frame, chanting the same mantra.

His heart thudded against his chest, threatening to break out open. 

His head, scrambling for anything else except the thought of you on the other side.

But the vision of you replayed in his head, over and over again. 

Chirping away at the invisible thread of control that seemed to continuously disappear day by day ever since moving in with you.

Because in the same breath that you seemed to take in his space in the small crampy gym, came the ones you took away when you chose to straddle him on that couch, leaving him bare. Shuttered by the contact of your lips with his. 

So when he finally stepped inside your apartment, with the same weight you carried with you, he too, was barely keeping his head above the water.

His feet carried him to his room. 

Dragging along the floor as his hands reached for a clean slate.

Shirt. 

Sweats. 

Boxers. 

Towel. 

He needed to shower. 

Needed the water to splash him awake from the dream that kept replacing the reality that should be occupying it. 

He put his earbuds in, hoping to remove any senses from reaching out to you. 

He wasn’t drunk, but he was for sure, dazed.

He didn’t hear the soft tones of your playlist on the other side of the thin wall that separated you.

He didn’t see the steam rolling against the cracked door as he stepped foot in the bathroom.

He didn’t see you scrubbing away at the same slate. 

Until it was too late. 

And now he was utterly fucked. 

Because his last sanctuary was ripped away from his arms yet again, by you. 

And he only had himself to blame.

♱

Lesson 1: Lock the bathroom door. 

Lesson 2: Never wear headphones at home to avoid your best friend.

It had been hours since your last embarrassing encounter with Riki. 

Hours spent cycling through the same pathetic excuses in your head, desperately trying to explain why you refused to acknowledge the very thing turning the air inside your apartment unbearably thick.

You, if you were you, normally…

Would’ve reminded him of the importance of keeping his eyes open before stepping into a cracked bathroom door. 

Would’ve teased him about the screech that he yelped out that sounded like a high school girl.

Would’ve insulted him for the small dent on the door that he left behind from his fall.

And by now, the two of you would've already buried it—resolved it, left it behind, and silently agreed never to mention it again.

But you were feeling abnormal. 

Because nothing about the situation was. 

You knew while signing that lease that you were opening the door for Riki to see you at your most vulnerable. 

In distress. Unmasked. Stripped of the version of yourself that only existed outside the four walls you called home.

You weren’t signing papers that allowed him to see you fully fucking nude. Straight out of a shower. A shower you took by the way to erase him from your own wicked brain.

And that was fucking humiliating. 

And guilty.

And, the sudden awareness of that was making you wish your eyes could be scratched out while you were conscious.

You couldn’t face him. 

Because what the fuck would you even say?

“Oh, hey! Let’s just forget everything happened!” 

“I’ve had so many people walk in on me so many times!”

“You’re not the first person to see me nude, chill.”

“If you wanted to shower with me you could’ve just said that.”

“I was already gonna invite you anyway…haha!”

You were fucking helpless.

And the fact that the thin wall separating the two of you seemed to tighten against your throat as you kept on being reminded of Riki on the other side of it was really beginning to choke you. 

You grabbed your headphones.

Lesson 3: Never trust shuffle.

The opening guitar riff of Everybody Talks echoed through your earbuds.

You had never wanted to fistfight your own playlist more.

…

God.

You needed a new playlist. A new lock. A new set of headphones. Thicker walls.

A new fucking shirt.

Because when you looked down—

You were wearing Riki's.

"FUCK!"

You yelled.

Add a new apartment to that list.

The apartment suddenly felt a little too small. Everywhere you looked, there was another reminder of him.

The shirt hanging off your shoulders. The wall separating your rooms. The playlist still mocking you through your headphones.

You couldn't seem to outrun him.

Even when he wasn't there.

...

Before your thoughts could torture you any further, another scent slipped beneath your bedroom door.

Warm broth. Charred onion. Star anise. Ginger.

It filled every corner of your room with embarrassing ease, washing away the scent of shampoo and borrowed cotton.

...

Pho.

Your stomach betrayed you immediately.

"Traitor," you muttered.

Maybe your old roommate wasn't that bad after all.

Your stomach growled again, cutting cleanly through the silence. It made the decision for you.

Your legs carried you toward the kitchen before your pride could object.

Riki stood by the stove, a fitted black shirt stretched across his shoulders, gray sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he stirred the pot with slow, absentminded motions.

The rich aroma wrapped itself around you the moment you stepped into the kitchen.

Your heart gave one hard thud. Acid crept up your throat.

Yep.

You had to be tachycardic or something. You were definitely sick.

Riki glanced over.

His eyes caught yours for only a second, carrying an apology neither of you knew how to say out loud.

You looked away first.

The pot suddenly became the most interesting thing in the apartment.

He cleared his throat.

“I made pho…”

“...Mmh. I can see that.” 

You nodded. 

Your cheeks began to turn crimson as the events of the previous hours clung to your brain, refusing to taint away, just like your pride. 

"Look..." He grabbed two bowls from the cabinet behind him. "About earlier..."

He hesitated.

"You don't have to avoid me, y'know."

Fuck. 

You weren't trying to avoid him. You just didn't know how to exist around him anymore. Not after the bathroom. Not after realizing you couldn't stop thinking about him every time he stepped into your space.

“We can get a lock. A new door even.”

"Just..."

He looked down instead, quietly ladling the broth into two bowls.

Steam curled between the two of you.

"Eat."

You finally looked up to meet his eyes. 

“Okay.”

…

“But you’re definitely fixing that dent you left behind.”

The corner of his mouth finally twitched upward.

“And you need to make sure you lock from now on.”

You nodded. 

The knot in your chest loosened as you took the bowl from his hands and wandered toward the couch. Riki followed a beat later, settling onto the opposite end.

“Surprised you didn’t burn the kitchen,” you muttered as you found the remote before putting on Entergalatic.

“This is the only dish it can survive.”

Yeah, this was really the only thing he was good for. 

The pho became the stepping stool to resolve the blurring lines of the thin walls that separated you and Riki.

It was never loud.

Just enough to slowly let the warmth of your supposed friendship to fill the gaps in between the cracks.

And just like that, the bathroom incident simmered past your shoulders.

You glanced at the empty stretch of couch between the two of you.

...

Whatever.

You stretched your legs out anyway, letting your calves bump lightly against his arm as you settled into the cushions. Riki adjusts the bowl on his right hand giving your legs some more space to breathe. 

You both immersed yourself into the warmth of the broth and the movie that casted blue hues.

♱

As the credits hummed through the quiet apartment, you found yourself sinking deeper into the couch.

The empty bowls sat forgotten on the coffee table.

…

And somehow—

Big. 

Long. 

Heavy.

Riki had found you in his sleep.

One arm was draped securely around your waist, his face tucked somewhere near your shoulder as he held onto you with the same unconscious insistence he'd clung to that worn-out body pillow since he was a kid.

...

You stared at the ceiling.

Of course.

Even asleep, this idiot couldn't stop stealing things to hug.

You wriggled. 

Nothing. 

Stubborn as always.

If anything his grip tightened even more, refusing to let you go. His warm breath fanned softly against your neck slow and steady, making the air in the room constrict around your lungs. 

Hazy from the exhaustion of everything the day had thrown at you, you found your breathing unconsciously matching his.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

Somewhere beneath blankets, tangled limbs, and shared warmth, the space between you blurred until you couldn't quite tell where one of you ended and the other began.

Sleep didn't seem to care.

prev > masterlist < next

Synopsis: Riki has been by your side for as long as you can remember. Every childhood memory, every milestone, every stupid decision—you've never had to face it without him lingering somewhere nearby. So when junior year rolls around and dorm life comes to an end, moving into an apartment together feels less like a choice and more like the obvious next step.

But sharing four walls leaves little room for the distance friendship once provided. As routines intertwine and boundaries blur, the line between comfort and longing becomes harder to ignore.

Warnings: NSFW, fluff, slight angst, minors DNI.

WC: 7298

jm corner 𑁤 : live, laugh, love Ki.

prev > masterlist < next

II. Almost ⠀♱

The apartment door clicked shut behind Jungwon.

Click.

Silence.

Your head buzzed from the alcohol that lingered in your system. Now circling around the chaos left behind by the storm of your friends. 

Which included the six-foot-one bean stalk still slumped against the couch in the same spot you left him in.

“So,” you cracked.

“So…” he hesitated.

You didn’t. If the alcohol lingered, the embarrassment that frayed you just a moment ago, whisked away right behind Jungwon.

“That happened.”

“Right, … um” he said as he fiddled with the rings on his fingers. 

The same metal ones you could still feel on your back.

“Yeah.”

“You regret it?” he asked as he finally met your eyes.

You paused. 

The alcohol consumed you, it really did.

And so did he.

But this was your best friend you were talking about. 

“No.”

“No?”

You thought about it.

You thought about the insecurity you felt of being forced to face Jungwon in a state you should never have been seen in. 

In a sweaty tank top, stressed out from all the changes overtaking your life right now. 

From the week before with the finals that stole countless sleep preparing for a grade that was going to define what the next year would look like for you.

To the countless calls and messages left unseen, untouched from your mother demanding the progress you should be making in your career. 

To the list in your notes app of the pick up times for each furniture, both you and Riki curated together after spending what little time you had in between it all, preparing for your apartment. Carefully curated, carefully planned.

And the god awful amount of boxes that now cluttered you and Riki’s new space.

On top of that, the zoo that was your friends, with their secrets and their lies.

It all caught up with you.

And somewhere beneath it at all, you settled on the explanation that made sense.

It wasn’t him.

It was familiarity.

The kind only Riki had ever given you. 

“I regret that everyone watched.” You answered as you got up to your feet.

“I don’t regret kissing you.”

He froze, searched your face for a joke.

There wasn’t one:

“I was overwhelmed.” You shrugged. “You were there. But again, I’m not going to have an existential crisis over it.”

“Y/N…”

“Don’t make it bigger than it is.”

You bent down and picked up an empty soju bottle.

Riki looked at you.

Really looked at you.

The hollows beneath your eyes.

The crescent marks that dug into your fingertips from another week of picking at your skin.

The bruises blooming along your elbows from sixteen-hour study sessions curled over his old dorm desk.

Whatever this had been…

It hadn’t started tonight.

So, he didn’t say anything. 

Instead, he got up to his feet and began picking up the empty bottles on the floor.

“Right,” he coughed. “We’ve got an apartment to unpack anyway.” 

And so…

Both of you buried it.

Beneath cardboard boxes that still needed emptying. Furniture pickups scheduled for the next morning. Grocery lists meant to fill the hollow shelves of your shared kitchen. Bed frames and dressers that needed assembling—with Riki insisting he didn’t need the instruction manual. (He absolutely did.) Paintings that still needed hanging. Cabinets that needed organizing. Towels that needed folding.

Whatever god-awful task came with turning four empty walls into something that finally felt like home.

You never mentioned the kiss again.

Somehow…

It slipped beneath everything else.

Buried beneath routines. Beneath responsibilities. Beneath the life the two of you were building together.

And before you knew it…

The kiss became less like a memory you revisited— And more like the foundation hidden beneath everything that came after.

Because the day you signed that lease together, you knew you and Riki would grow closer.

You just hadn’t expected how close.

♱

When the final cabinet settled into the corner of your room, it hit you all at once.

Home.

The word settled into your chest before you could stop it.

The queen bed tucked beneath the window, dressed in the tan pleated comforter you’d been eyeing since sophomore year.

The desk beside it was already cluttered with planners, color-coded schedules, and sticky notes mapping out the next few months of your life before you’d even lived them.

Polaroids stolen from Riki’s old dorm covered the wall above it, memories taped beside the warm orange glow of the IKEA lamp you’d argued over buying.

The bookshelf stood proudly beside it.

Every novel. Every textbook. Every dog-eared paperback.

Color-coded. Alphabetized. Exactly where they belonged.

Across the room, your thrifted wardrobe finally had a home inside the walk-in closet instead of hanging off the back of random chairs.

The dresser sat beneath the television, SZA’s Good Days humming softly through the speakers while the last of the evening sun poured through the window, turning the burnt-orange rug beneath your feet into something almost golden.

…

You smiled.

For the first time in months…

You could breathe.

Finals were over. The boxes were gone. Your mother’s unanswered texts could wait until tomorrow.

This…

This was yours.

It was warm.

It was quiet.

It was peaceful.

…

Thud.

You closed your eyes.

Right.

You lived with Riki now.

Your bedroom door swung open without so much as a courtesy knock.

Of course.

Solitude, as always, lasted exactly as long as it took Riki to remember you existed.

“We are finally celebrating tonight!” he announced, immediately catching his foot on absolutely nothing and stumbling into your room anyway.

He righted himself like it had been intentional.

“We built this place from the ground up.” He threw his arms into the air. “Now we’re getting fucking plastered.”

“Bitch, next time knock,” you yelled as you threw a pillow at him.

He caught it.

“Don’t know what that is,” he shrugged. Then climbed onto your bed right beside you. 

“You know, the thing people do to ASK if they could come in,” you propped yourself on your elbows as you looked at him beside you, “you don’t know what you can walk in on you fucktard.” 

“Right.” He nodded seriously. “The thing people do when they haven’t known each other for seventeen years.”

“Exactly.”

“Y/N, I’ve seen you ugly cry over Grey’s Anatomy. I watched you cut your own bangs. I’ve literally held your hair while you threw up behind a McDonald’s.”

“That was one time.”

“You’ve got zero mystery left.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Just because I’ve seen you go through your cross-dressing phase doesn’t mean you get unlimited bedroom privileges. Boundaries exist, you know.”

“Not between us.”

You literally slap yourself. 

“I’ll just buy a fucking a lock. Jesus Christ”

“Whatever,” he propped himself on to his side, now fully facing you, “We’re going to White Fox tonight. Everyone’s already getting ready now, so you should probably too.”

“Everyone including…?” you started.

“Yes,” he rolled his eyes, as he laid back down on your mattress. “Including Jungwon.”

Fuck. 

Last time you saw him was…

Right.

“Maybe, I’ll skip out tonight.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But…”

“No buts,” he murmured before looking at you. “We’re going. End of discussion.” 

“I don’t know, dude.”

“You seriously can’t be skipping out on celebrating OUR new place over your shit with Jungwon,” he said as he got up, folding his knees and propped himself on them. “I thought you got over that shit anyway.”

“Bitch please,” you got up. “The only way to get over that, is by getting under that.” You emphasized as you rolled your hips. 

Riki blinked.

Once.

Twice.

“…Jesus Christ.”

“Oops, forgot you weren’t Sophia,” you sighed. “Okay, maybe you’re right. I’ve been surrounded by your testosterone filth for the past few weeks anyway.”

Because maybe he was right.

The apartment was finally finished.

Your grades had been posted.

Straight As.

Dean’s List.

Rent had been paid.

The boxes were gone.

For the first time in what felt like months… There wasn’t anything left demanding your attention.

Just one night.

One night to celebrate. One night to stop thinking.

You pushed yourself off the bed with a sigh.

“Fine.”

Riki grinned like he’d already won before he even asked.

“That’s my girl.”

“Don’t make me change my mind.”

“You’ve got…” He checked his phone. “…forty-five minutes.”

“Forty-five?”

“Sophia said—and I quote—‘If Y/N isn’t hot enough to make Jungwon forget how to speak, I’m leaving.’”

You stared at him.

“…She actually said that?”

“Word for word. Bar for bar.”

“…”

“Well…” You stood, already walking toward your closet. “Guess I’d better not embarrass her.”

♱

So, the chaos unraveled.

First came the everything shower.

Then came the real battle.

The outfit.

Because tonight wasn’t just about celebrating. It was about forgetting.

And somehow… Being unforgettable.

Your closet had never looked more intimidating.

Hangers scraped against one another as you shoved piece after piece aside, every outfit somehow managing to be either too much or not enough.

Then—

There it was.

Your vintage cheetah-print skirt.

A low-rise piece you’d spent almost three hours digging through a thrift store for.

You smiled.

Perfect.

It hugged your hips just right before falling into sheer panels that skimmed the tops of your knees, teasing more than they revealed.

You paired it with your olive halter top—the one that barely qualified as a shirt.

Two strips of fabric covered your chest, tied behind your back, leaving your shoulders bare and a deep plunge down the center of your torso.

Simple.

But enough to make people look twice.

Maroon kitten heels.

Gold jewelry.

A stack of rings.

The little vintage watch you’d refused to replace for years.

Done.

You crimped your hair until it framed your face exactly how you liked it before finishing off your makeup with glowing skin, soft contour, a smoked-out eye, and the kind of nude pink lip that somehow survived an entire night of drinking.

You stepped back.

The olive green made your skin glow.

The gold warmed everything up.

Every piece sat exactly where it was supposed to.

…

God.

You looked good.

“I’d fuck myself,” you muttered to your reflection.

Honestly?

Fair.

You spun once in front of the mirror anyway. Just because you could.

The bedroom door swung open before you could even admire yourself for another second.

Riki stopped dead in the doorway.

He looked at you.

Really looked at you.

Eyes trailing down your form, drinking you in literally. Not a shame in his body really. Fucking prick.

“You’ve been hiding this outfit from me?”

You scoffed.

“You’re my roommate.”

“Exactly.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning if you walked out into the living room looking like that every day, I’d never get anything done.”

You laughed.

“Didn’t know I had that much power over you.”

“You don’t.”

“Mm.”

“I’m just saying you’re objectively hot.”

“Objectively?”

“Yeah.”

He grabbed his keys from the kitchen island.

“Now hurry up.”

“Why?”

“Because if Jungwon sees you looking like that and still doesn’t make a move…”

He shook his head.

“I’m revoking his man card.”

♱

So, here you were.

In the passenger seat of Riki’s car, on the way to your favorite bar. Anticipation gnawing at your throat.

Seoul blurred by outside, city lights melting into streaks of white, red, and amber as he drove with one hand resting lazily against the steering wheel.

Your floral perfume tangled with the cedar and musk of his cologne, filling the quiet between you while some old R&B song hummed through the speakers.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Your fingers drummed against your bare thigh. Across from you, his kept the same rhythm against the steering wheel.

Funny.

Seventeen years later and you still managed to mirror each other without trying.

Every so often, you caught his eyes drifting your way. Never for long. Just enough to make you notice.

Pause.

You turned your head.

He was already looking.

The second your eyes met, he cleared his throat and looked back at the road.

He looked at you again, continuing the rhythm of his fingers against the steering wheel as he maneuvered through the empty streets of Seoul.

This time, keeping his eyes only on your face.

“So…”

“Hm?”

“Jungwon.”

You hummed for him to continue.

“Why him?”

He shrugged.

“I mean, I love the guy. We’ve been friends forever.”

A pause.

“But…”

His fingers tapped the steering wheel again.

“You’ve never really been the type to stay interested in one person for very long.”

He wasn’t wrong.

You’d never really done relationships.

Not properly.

They demanded time. Time you didn’t have. 

Nursing school. Clinicals. Exams. Parents who somehow managed to turn every phone call into a progress report.

Somewhere along the way, people became easier to enjoy than to keep.

Flings. Hookups. Situationships.

Whatever stupid label people had come up with that week.

None of them lasted.

None of them were supposed to.

Riki knew that.

Which was exactly why he’d assumed Jungwon would end up like everyone else.

Just another crush you’d eventually shelve and move on from.

Neatly filed away… Like the color-coded books lining your bedroom.

But…

You never did.

It was especially surprising considering you’d first brought him up during freshman year of high school.

Now, junior year of college was already on its way.

Six years.

Six years of dancing around whatever it was between you and Jungwon.

“So…” Riki broke the silence. “Why him?”

You looked out the window.

The city blurred into streaks of amber and white.

“I don’t know…” you admitted quietly. “He’s always just been… a constant in my life, I guess.”

“A constant?”

You nodded.

“Like, obviously I like him.” You laughed under your breath. “I want him. Over me, under me, folded, taking turns, in all ways more than one.”

Riki snorted.

“There she is.”

“What?”

“I was wondering how long it’d take before you made it sexual.”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m serious.”

He gestured for you to continue.

You rested your head against the window.

“I’ve just…” You searched for the words. “I’ve never really had to question how I felt about him.”

He stayed quiet.

“Everything else in my life changes. My schedule. My grades. My rotations.”

“My mom deciding every other week that I’m somehow behind on becoming the daughter she already planned out for herself.”

You sighed.

“But Jungwon…”

You smiled to yourself.

“He’s easy.”

“Easy?” Riki asked.

“Not like that.”

You laughed.

“I mean… he’s familiar.”

“Comfortable.”

“I know what I’m getting with him. I don’t have to overthink every interaction or wonder where I stand.”

Your fingers absentmindedly traced circles against your thigh.

“He’s always just… there.”

A comfortable silence settled between the two of you.

“…”

“So that’s why.”

You shrugged.

“I think after everything that’s happened these past few weeks…”

“Finals. The apartment. My parents. The move. The party. The kiss.”

You swallowed.

Riki blinked.

“I just wanted something that already felt safe.”

He nodded slowly.

“I get that.”

You smiled before immediately ruining the moment.

“Plus…”

“Oh, here we go.”

“You have no fucking idea how badly I want to fuck that man.”

Riki barked out a laugh.

“There she is.”

“What?”

“I knew the sincerity wouldn’t last.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m just saying, you almost had me emotional. Then I remembered who I was talking to.”

“And?”

“And apparently you’ve spent six years writing emotional poetry in your head just to end it with wanting to fold the poor guy in half.”

“Shut up. You love this brain,” you rolled your eyes. 

The conversation ended as the tires of his car screeched against the pavement. Riki parked alongside the road right in front of White Fox.

♱

The first thing that filled your senses was the aroma.

Sweat and alcohol, tangled together in the thick air.

The club buzzed with excitement as Seoul’s starry night disappeared behind flashing crimson lights that swallowed the room whole, casting every body in shades of red.

Fuck yes.

You needed a drink.

Bad.

Riki grabbed your hand, keeping you tucked behind him as he pushed through the crowd, weaving toward the bar where the rest of your friends had already gathered.

Manon noticed you first.

“Y/N! Fucking finally. Took you guys long enough.”

She immediately shoved a shot glass into your hand the moment you reached the counter.

“I thought we said forty-five minutes, Riki.” She shot him a glare.

Riki, now beside you, let go of your hand only for it to settle against the bare skin of your back.

Alright?

Also…

Forty-five minutes was not enough time.

Two hours barely got the job done.

“There’s no time limit when you’re making a statement,” you said, motioning to your outfit with a grin.

“Oh, you look so fucking good. I promise you that.”

“Bitch, you too. Those low-waisted jeans are doing your ass so much justice. I’d tap, honestly.”

Sunghoon, standing beside her, smirked as his eyes briefly flickered to where Riki’s hand rested against your back.

Don’t even.

“Girl, I would’ve waited all night if this is who I was met with.”

Sophia practically launched herself at you from your right, Jay following close behind. His hands settled around her waist while the two of you pulled away from the hug.

“Sophia…” You looked her up and down. “This dress was built for you. My God.”

“Jay, watch out.”

“Not even one drink in and you’re already trying to steal my girl?” he scoffed before taking another sip of what you assumed was whiskey.

Next came Chaewon, drink already in hand as she squeezed through the circle to wrap you in a hug.

“Chae! I’ve missed you so much.”

“Girl, Riki’s got you tied up against your will or something because I haven’t seen you in weeks.”

She sent him an accusing glare.

He scoffed.

“She literally buried me under furniture manuals. If anyone’s being held against their will, it’s me. So… pass me a drink. Please.”

You smacked his chest.

Boo hoo.

“So, are you guys finally all settled?” Heeseung asked, raising a brow as he passed Riki a shot glass.

Vodka.

“Pretending I didn’t hear you.”

You turned toward the bartender.

“Seven more shots, please.”

Sure, everyone already had drinks in their hands.

But tonight was a celebration.

Those sugar-filled cocktails weren’t going to cut it.

“And the party has finally arrived.”

Sunoo.

Followed closely by Jake.

“Don’t even start, Sunoo.”

“Is that how you greet your friends now? Big-girl apartment’s got your ego skyrocketing, I see.”

You rolled your eyes before pulling both of them into quick hugs, unable to hide the smile spreading across your face.

“Now we’re really getting started,” Jake said as the bartender lined up fresh shot glasses across the counter, each one paired with a wedge of lime.

“Don’t forget about me.”

Jungwon’s voice came from behind Heeseung as he squeezed into the circle.

You paused.

Your eyes met his.

And everything stopped.

God, he looked good.

A fitted black shirt hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, paired with loose baggy jeans held together by the tiniest belt. His glasses rested on top of his head, leaving nothing to hide the rest of his face.

Dimples and all.

Oh, you were so fucked.

But, so was he. 

Jungwon was stunned at the sight that met him to say the least. The faint shadow of the club lights drinking you, making everything else disappear for him. His throat dried out at the sight. Beautiful, was an understatement.

“I could never,” you laughed softly before stepping forward to wrap him in a hug.

Behind you, Riki stilled.

He’d greeted everyone else without a second thought.

But when Jungwon appeared…

The conversation from the car came rushing back.

He froze.

Only for a second.

Then he greeted Jungwon too.

“Hi,” you said once you pulled away, looking up at him.

Riki had already drifted back into conversation with Heeseung.

“Hey.”

Jungwon smiled, biting his lip just enough for those dimples to deepen.

“Are we taking these shots or what?” Riki suddenly called from behind you as he started passing the glasses around.

You rolled your eyes as he naturally slipped back into the empty space at your side, his hand finding the small of your back once again.

“Noticing,” Sunoo muttered under his breath.

“To Riki and Y/N!”

Everyone except the two of you raised their glasses.

You exchanged amused looks before lifting yours as well.

You were here to celebrate, after all.

The vodka burned all the way down your throat.

And just like that…

The night finally began.

♱

You’d long since lost count of how many shots you’d taken as you barreled onto the dance floor with Chae, Sophia, and Manon right beside you.

Hips swaying.

Bodies grinding.

The boys had claimed a booth at the edge of the dance floor, already wrapped up in whatever conversation they’d found themselves in.

Probably something stupid.

Not that you actually knew.

You just needed a break from them.

Honestly.

“So…”

Manon leaned closer, shouting over the music.

“Are we ever gonna talk about the fact that you made out with Riki on the first day of getting your apartment, or what?”

“Nope.”

You didn’t even hesitate.

“Never happened. Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

All you could feel was the alcohol coursing through your bloodstream and your favorite songs vibrating through your chest one after another. Your vision had gone pleasantly hazy, warmth settling over you as weeks of stress finally loosened their grip.

For once…

You could breathe.

“Girl,” Sophia laughed, “I’ll drag Sunoo over here right now with photographic evidence.”

Not now.

Please.

You’d moved past it.

Pretended it never happened.

The two of you were fine.

So why did it always come back whenever alcohol got involved?

Fuck.

You felt it again.

Riki’s Chrome Hearts-covered hands spread across your back.

Nope.

You weren’t that drunk.

So you shoved the thought away.

Ignored it.

Unfortunately…

Your friends had never been known for letting things go.

“So…” Chae grinned before bumping her hip against yours.

“Did you guys finally fuck it out after we left?”

“Ew.”

You immediately stopped dancing.

“What the fuck?”

The three of them had stopped too, all staring at you expectantly.

You needed another drink.

Immediately.

Without another word, you slipped through the crowd, determined to outrun every cracked, half-forgotten image replaying in your head.

Your sanity had abandoned you hours ago anyway.

You were here to celebrate.

Not throw up the happiness you’d spent weeks waiting for because your brain decided tonight was the perfect time to relive one stupid kiss.

So…

You did what you always did.

Shoved it down. Locked it away somewhere your alcohol-soaked brain couldn’t reach.

The bartender slid another shot into your hand.

You threw it back without thinking.

The girls weren’t far behind.

You ordered another before the first had even settled.

Your balance was already beginning to betray you.

Honestly…

You had forgotten about the kiss.

Or at least tried to.

Between moving, unpacking, and everything else life had dumped on your plate, you’d been too busy to think about it.

Now, with nothing but alcohol and temporary freedom filling your head…

Life decided to remind you anyway.

“Okayyy…”

You slumped onto a barstool, the seat becoming the only thing keeping you upright.

“If I tell you…” You hiccupped.

“…will you guys finally let this dead news stay dead?”

The three of them nodded.

At least…

You thought they did.

Your vision wasn’t exactly operating in high definition anymore.

“I told him…”

You paused to hiccup again.

“Exactly what happened.”

“We kissed…”

“…because I wanted to.”

“I was s-so…”

“…stressed.”

“As hell.”

“And…”

You frowned, trying to organize your thoughts.

“It was him…”

“…I guess.”

The bartender quietly placed another shot in front of you.

You accepted it without question.

“And that’s…”

“…that’s it.”

“Nothing…”

“…more.”

“Back to normal.”

The girls exchanged looks.

“Now I know you’re lying,” Manon said.

Whatever.

You didn’t really care what they thought. You knew where you and Riki stood. No amount of explaining was going to change that.

“It’s fine,” Chae sighed. “I guess we’ll have this conversation later.”

Your brains were completely obliterated anyway.

“Fuckkk…”

You grabbed onto someone’s arm. You had no idea whose.

“I need…”

“…to find Jungwon.”

You grinned to yourself.

“God…”

“…he looked…”

“…so…”

“…fine tonight.”

Whenever you drank, you always had a mission.

Tonight’s?

Finding the dimpled freak who’d been edging you with every glance he threw your way.

The four of you stumbled back toward the booth, abandoning whatever conversation you’d been having at the bar.

Arms linked. Bodies swaying. At this point, the alcohol had completely taken over your sense of balance.

By the time you finally reached them—

After accidentally bulldozing three strangers along the way.

Collateral damage.

“Girls…” Jay blinked. “It’s only been an hour. What the fuck?”

He caught Sophia before she could topple over, pulling her onto his lap with an exasperated laugh.

“Plenty of time,” you replied matter-of-factly. “Sounds like you guys are the ones who need to catch up.”

Looking around, you watched everyone naturally gravitate toward each other.

Sophia settled against Jay.

Sunoo right next to Jake.

Chaewon squeezed beside Heeseung.

Manon slid in next to Sunghoon.

Huh.

You frowned.

The booth suddenly looked… full.

Your eyes wandered. Riki sat beside Jake. And right next to him…

Jungwon.

My dimples.

“Take my seat,” Jungwon offered, already starting to stand. 

You smiled as you walked over.

“Nah.”

You gently pushed him back down.

“Just be my chair for now.”

Without another thought, you settled onto his lap, facing the rest of the booth.

You felt him freeze beneath you. His hands instinctively found your waist—one resting against the bare skin of your back, the other carefully settling over your thigh to steady you.

Across from you, Riki didn’t say a word.

Instead, he quietly slid a glass of water across the table.

It stopped right in front of you. Without thinking, you grabbed it and drained the whole thing in one go.

God… That tasted amazing. Silence settled over the booth.

Everyone stared.

Again.

You really did have a talent for turning every night into a spectacle. 

…

As everyone settled back into their own conversations, another round of shots made its way around the booth.

The boys resumed whatever story they’d been trying to finish before the girls stumbled back over.

You, meanwhile, found yourself slowly melting into Jungwon.

Your head came to rest against the crook of his neck as you watched his throat bob every time he laughed.

“You’re really comfortable, y’know,” you mumbled, nuzzling into him.

A quiet chuckle vibrated beneath your cheek.

“Mmhm.”

You shifted again, trying to get comfortable.

In the process, your knee bumped against Riki’s.

His eyes immediately lifted to you.

“Baby…”

Jungwon’s hand tightened around your waist.

“Please…”

He let out a small laugh.

“…quit moving.”

There was a strain to his voice that made you pause.

Oh.

Right.

Definitely accidental.

You went still almost instantly, cheeks warming as Jungwon gently adjusted you against him so you wouldn’t slide off his lap again.

When you looked up, he was already looking back.

“How’s the new apartment treating you?” he asked casually.

The warmth between the two of you somehow lingered anyway.

You smiled.

“Honestly?”

“Today was the first day it actually felt like home.”

His expression softened.

“You’ve had a lot on your plate.”

You nodded.

“I know.”

He reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“So…” he smiled.

“When do I get the grand tour?”

You laughed quietly.

“You want to see it?”

“I do.”

“Just us?”

His smile widened.

“Just us.”

Before you could answer, your foot brushed against Riki’s leg beneath the table.

You instinctively glanced over.

He was already looking at you.

For a split second…

Neither of you looked away.

Then Jungwon spoke again, pulling your attention back.

“So?”

You blinked.

A smile tugged at your lips.

“Sounds like a plan.”

As another round of drinks circled the booth, the room began spinning.

You felt the vodka surge through your stomach before you could control it. 

“Bathroom,” you muttered to Jungwon before getting up to your feet, clutching your mouth instinctively. 

Fuck. This didn’t feel like a celebration anymore. 

You surged through the crowd, hopelessly failing as you tried to find the bathroom stalls. 

Behind you, Jungwon followed instinctively, holding your waist. 

“Easy.”

You giggled, but the burn in your throat roared even more. 

“The floor moved.”

“It definitely didn’t.”

He smiled.

“I’m walking you.”

Before anyone could say anything, the two of you disappeared into the crowd. 

Riki watched. 

Jake nudged at him.

“You good?”

Before Riki could even answer, he was already on his feet, following close behind the two of you.

♱

Sometimes you wished you weren’t a woman because looking at the other side of the hall, where the men’s bathroom were, and a non-existent line sat at the corner, you were so utterly destroyed to be born with XX chromosomes. 

Because of course.

The line for the girl’s bathroom seemed immovable.

Jungwon held your waist, as your back pressed against him. 

“You okay?”

“Trying to be,” you said as you tried to gulp down the remains of the night. 

Temporary relief you guessed. 

You squinted at his hand that was on your waist before turning to him. 

Noticing the dimples that flashed at you. 

“You’ve got…” You poked at his dimples. “Two.”

He laughed. 

“I do.”

“I like them.”

“I noticed.”

Riki arrived in time to hear that. 

Maybe he should’ve drank more tonight. 

You noticed him immediately. 

"Rikiiiii!"

Without a second thought, you stumbled toward him.

Riki caught you with practiced ease, one hand finding the small of your back before you could trip over your own feet.

Jungwon's hand, which had been steadying your waist moments before, lingered in the air for half a second before dropping back to his side.

“You’re extra clingy tonight,” you giggled. 

Not that you noticed him anyway. You were too drunk. Too focused on Jungwon, definitely.

He breathed through his nose. 

“You’re drunk.”

“So?”

“So who’s supposed to watch you if I don’t?”

You frowned. 

Huh.

“No drinking… driving, Ki.”

“I had one drink.”

You blinked. 

“What happened to the celebration?”

He answered without thinking.

“I have to drive you home.”

Right.

He drove the both of you here.

From your apartment. He'd barely touched his drink all night.

You couldn't remember either of you talking about a designated driver. 

He'd just...done it. 

Planned for it. 

Planned around you.

The thought settled strangely in your stomach, somewhere between comforting and suffocating.

It sounded so...married.

Your stomach lurched.

No.

That was definitely the vodka.

You waved the thought away before it could root itself. Riki was just being Riki.

And because your stomach had officially decided it'd had enough.

“Fuck decency,” you grabbed your mouth as your throat threatened to leak. 

You ran towards the other end of the hall where the men’s bathroom stood empty.

Riki and Jungwon followed instinctively. 

You were thankful. Because, god. Could you imagine the sight of that?

You surged through the empty bathroom clutching your mouth as you found an empty stall, crouching down and letting the alcohol relieve itself from your insides. 

Riki held your hair, tugging the strands of your hair behind your ears before they fell. 

This wasn’t a first for him. 

You had a habit of overestimating yourself when alcohol was involved 

Jungwon stood there for a second before stepping back away. 

“I’ll let the others know you’re okay.”

“Thanks, bro,” Riki looked at Jungwon, before his Chrome-heart fingers found the empty space on your back, rubbing, soothing. 

When your stomach was finally empty, and the burn in your throat was slightly relieved, you looked up at Riki who was still holding your hair. 

“What a great way to end the night,” you said embarrassed really.

You felt better to say the least. Still drunk, hazy and warm. Just not burning in the way you did moments ago. 

Riki helped you up your feet, leading you towards the sink, before forcing you to rinse your mouth.

You looked up to meet his eyes.

He wiped away the lipstick smeared across the corner of your mouth.

Then tucked the loose strands of hair behind your ear

Too close.

The musk of his cologne cut through the stale bathroom air, drowning out the scent that had lingered moments before. 

The cold kiss of his rings lingered against your lower back as his hand continued its absent-minded circles.

An involuntary shiver climbed your spine. Uninvited, the first night flashed through your mind.

Those same hands on your back.

Your knees pressed against either side of his hips.

His lips—

“You good?” 

Right. 

Not the time. 

And definitely not the thoughts that should be consuming you considering you literally just threw up in front of this man. 

“Better than ever.” 

You took a tiny step back, forcing a bit of space between you. 

Or at least tried to but this bathroom was small as fuck. 

You were still hazy, nonetheless. Just, a little bit more in touch with your motor controls.

“Let’s go.” He said as he found the side of your hips, leading you out of the bathroom. 

Calm down.

He guided you through the crowd, holding you close to his chest, steading you against him. 

Once you were acquainted with the cold night air, and the music hummed behind you, oxygen filled your lungs, you took a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

You saw your friends on the side of the streets, already waiting for you. 

“Everything okay?” Manon asked as she walked towards you. 

Everyone looked up at you.

“Splendid,” you attempted to stand on your own. 

Riki didn't give you the chance.

The second you wobbled, he was already behind you, steadying you with a hand at your waist.

“Time to go,” Riki said as he shook his head with a smile, biding farewell to everybody. 

“Thanks for tonight,” you said as he led you to the passenger side of his car luckily sat in the same spot, in front of the bar. 

If it was any further, you’d kill yourself.

“Most fun I’ve had in a while!” you yelled at everyone as Riki opened the passenger door. 

He settled you into the seat before leaning over to pull the seatbelt across your chest.

The click echoed between you.

He was only a breath away.

Before Riki could close the door, Jungwon stepped between the two of you.

"Thanks for taking her home."

Riki nodded.

"We're going to the same place anyway."

“Right.”

Jungwon leaned down to you.

Riki watched as Jungwon smiled at you one last time.

"Don't forget about my invite."

"Never that," you giggled.

Jungwon closed the door with a gentle push.

Riki lingered for half a second before walking around to the driver's side.

You'd settled deeper in your seat before he even started the engine.

♱

The city lights blurred past the passenger window as Riki pulled away from the curb.

You let out a long sigh, sinking further into the passenger seat.

"This seatbelt hates me."

Riki snorted.

"It's a seatbelt."

"It's judgmental."

"It literally can't judge you."

"It is."

You frowned down at the strap digging into your chest as if it had personally offended you.

"It thinks I threw up on purpose."

"You did throw up."

"I know," you sighed dramatically. "But it didn't have to witness it."

A quiet laugh escaped him.

When the car stopped at a red light, one hand stayed on the steering wheel while the other reached over.

Without saying a word, he slipped two fingers beneath the belt where it dug into your collarbone, tugging it forward just enough to loosen the tension before letting it settle back against you.

"Better?"

You shifted in your seat.

"...Yeah."

The light turned green.

The car rolled forward once more.

You watched the city melt into streaks of color before another turn sent you leaning toward him.

You straightened yourself.

The next turn came.

Again.

By the third one, you gave up.

Your shoulder rested against his arm, the warmth seeping through the sleeve of his hoodie.

Comfortable.

Without thinking, your fingers wandered to the strings hanging from his hood.

You rolled one between your fingers.

Then both.

Twisting them around your index finger before letting them unravel again.

Riki glanced down for half a second.

"What're you doing?"

You blinked at the hoodie strings pinched between your fingers.

"...I don't know."

"You've been playing with those for like... thirty seconds."

"Oh."

You looked at them as if they belonged to someone else.

"My bad."

"You can keep going."

"...Really?"

He hummed, eyes never leaving the road.

"Makes no difference to me."

"...Okay."

You resumed absentmindedly, rubbing the soft fabric between your fingertips.

Another quiet turn.

This time, instead of correcting yourself, you leaned in just a little more.

Your cheek brushed against his shoulder before settling there, nuzzling into the worn fabric of his hoodie with a content little sigh.

Warm.

His hoodie always smelled like him.

Clean laundry.

A little cedar.

The faintest trace of his cologne.

"Mhm," you mumbled to yourself, burying your face a little further into his shoulder.

Riki let out a quiet breath through his nose.

"Comfortable?"

"So comfy."

"You gonna steal this hoodie too?"

"It already smells like me."

He laughed.

"...Fair."

You smiled to yourself, still playing with the strings dangling from his hood. Your fingers slowed, the loops becoming lazier with every passing minute. 

The city outside blurred into streaks of orange and white.

Your eyelids grew heavier. The conversation died somewhere between one stoplight and the next. The hoodie strings slipped from your fingers. Your breathing evened out against his shoulder.

Riki glanced over for a split second before looking back at the road.

"...Knew it."

He carefully shifted his arm just enough to support your weight as the car rounded another corner, making sure your head stayed resting comfortably against him.

The rest of the drive home was quiet. Just the low hum of the engine. The occasional flicker of streetlights across your sleeping face.

And Riki driving with one hand, unwilling to move an inch if it meant waking you.

♱

When you finally reached the garage of your shared apartment, with you still deep in your sleep, Riki didn’t second guess himself as he got out, opened the passenger door, carrying you bridal style out of the car. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck, holding onto him instinctively as if your body knew him even while you were sleeping. 

When he made it to your apartment, he walked into your bedroom before gently lowering you on the bed. Still asleep.

He watched you for a second before gently nudging at you. 

“Y/N?” he whispered as he got up to his feet, walking to your dresser before grabbing a set of pajamas.

“You need to change,” he said, nudging you again. This time, you forced your eyes open, grabbing the clothes out of his hands before swaying on your feet.

You fumbled with the ties holding your top together, fingers clumsy from sleep.

They refused to come undone.

"...Riki?"

He was already facing the opposite wall.

"Can you help me?"

There was a beat before he nodded.

"Yeah."

He stepped behind you, careful not to look any lower than the knots at the small of your back. His fingertips brushed your skin as he loosened them one by one.

"Done."

Before the fabric could even slip from your shoulders, he'd turned away again.

First the top, then the skirt.

Riki was still turned around, when you faced him fully dressed. 

You dragged him with you as you leaned back towards your bed. 

He let himself get dragged for a second, as you flopped on your back, before getting up on his feet going to the bathroom and coming back a moment later. 

You were still out of it. 

The warmth of alcohol still lingered in your limbs. You barely registered him returning until something cool brushed across your cheek.

"Mmh..."

The makeup wipe swept gently over your skin.

Riki paused at the sound before quietly finishing the rest of your face.

Once he was done, he got up to his feet, throwing the sheet away, then grabbing a cup of water from the kitchen and bringing the ibuprofen from the emergency kit you made specifically for moments like these, before making it back to where you were. 

He sat down beside your laying form, before settling the water and the ibuprofen on your desk, right by your side. 

He grabbed the blanket, and threw it over you.

He looked at you once more, before he got up to his feet. 

But, you reached out to him.

Holding him.

“Riki…”

“Hm?”

“Stay.”

He smiled.

“You’re sleeping.”

Instead of answering, you scooted making space for him beside you as you blindly reached for him.

He hesitated.

“... Seriously?”

“Mmh.”

“C’mere.”

He sighed.

“You’re impossible.”

Very carefully, he laid down beside you, leaving enough space for you to breathe.

You closed it without a thought.

Your head found the nook of his neck, your arms draped over his stomach, your legs tangled with his.

Your head fit beneath his chin like it had been there a hundred times before.

It hadn’t.

That was the problem.

His heart thudded uncontrollably beneath your cheek.

He wished you wouldn’t notice.

The rhythm soon became a lullaby in your ears as your breathing evened out against him, finally finding the comfort of darkness beneath your eyelids.

He should move.

He didn’t.

Your breathing had settled into an easy rhythm against his neck, each quiet exhale warm against his skin. Every now and then your fingers flexed against the strings of his hoodie before relaxing again, as if even asleep you were making sure he was still there.

He couldn’t bring himself to disturb you.

He let out a slow breath.

Like there had always been room for you here.

Like he’d been waiting for the weight of your head against his shoulder without ever admitting it to himself.

He looked down at you.

A small smile found its way onto his face as he gently tucked another loose strand of hair behind your ear.

You looked peaceful.

Like you weren’t carrying the weight of your world on your back.

There had been a time when he’d fallen asleep terrified you wouldn’t wake up.

Back then, tomorrow had never felt guaranteed.

So having you here now—

Warm.

Breathing.

Mumbling incoherently into the collar of his hoodie…

It felt dangerously close to everything he’d once convinced himself he would never have.

He could’ve stayed.

You would’ve never known.

You’d wake up tomorrow thinking nothing of it.

He couldn’t let himself start expecting this.

Slowly, he untangled himself from your touch, making sure you stayed asleep before quietly slipping out of bed and walking toward his room.

...

Click.

The soft click of his bedroom door echoed through the apartment.

He took a slow breath before sinking onto the edge of his bed.

The warmth you’d left behind still clung to his shoulder.

Your perfume lingered there too.

He stared at the faint indentation you’d left in the fabric of his hoodie before dragging a hand down his face.

“Get it together,” he muttered to the empty room.

The words sounded ridiculous.

Because for a few minutes, with you asleep against him, he’d let himself pretend that this was normal.

That you were his.

Then he’d walked away before he started believing it.

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Synopsis: Riki has been by your side for as long as you can remember. Every childhood memory, every milestone, every stupid decision—you've never had to face it without him lingering somewhere nearby. So when junior year rolls around and dorm life comes to an end, moving into an apartment together feels less like a choice and more like the obvious next step.

But sharing four walls leaves little room for the distance friendship once provided. As routines intertwine and boundaries blur, the line between comfort and longing becomes harder to ignore.

Warnings: NSFW, kissing, making out, clothed, friction. minors DNI.

WC: 4640

jm corner 𑁤 : first time writing a fic. kinda nervous ;)

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I. Overflow⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀

“RIKI! IF YOU STUFF ANY MORE SHIT IN THAT BOX I WILL PERSONALLY BURN EVERY SINGLE CHROMEHEART ITEM YOU HAVE”, you yelled at the lanky boy as you helped him pack away his stuff. 

Yeah, maybe signing away into an apartment 3 days before your guy’s official move out of date of the dorms, or that being finals week right before wasn’t the brightest idea you’ve come up with, but it was that or having to face living with your families again. So, here you were, dealing with the consequences.

“Y/N, were you or were you not the one screaming at me earlier for not having anything packed for our apartment?” he said as he pointed at the boxes accumulating at the corner of the room with each passing hour. “I’m just simply responding to your request,” he said with a smirk. 

You sighed, “First of all, all those boxes are my blood, sweat and tears of hard work. Second of all, that did not mean pack everything you fucking own into that tiny ass box. We need order, we need organization because I know your ass isn’t going to actually unpack that shit correctly when we get there!” 

You loved the dude, really. He was your best friend, but moments like these made it feel like you were raising a fully grown son.

You grabbed the Sharpie sitting on the edge of his desk and started labeling the growing mountain of boxes.

Shoes. Hangers. CDs. Clothes. PC. Chrome Hearts. Miscellaneous. Chrome Hearts. Shower items. Chrome Hearts. Snacks. And somehow, even more fucking Chrome Hearts.

"God, how many boxes of the same shit do you have?" you groaned. "How are you even able to afford all of this? I thought we came from the same tax bracket."

"Sugar daddies," he replied with a grin, finally sorting everything into the boxes you'd labeled. "I promise you they love my feet."

You rolled your eyes, already fed up with his bullshit.

"Honestly, I wouldn't even be surprised if that's where you get your money, considering employment applications never seem to be one of your interests."

"Nah." He continued stuffing more Chrome Hearts into what had to be his eighth box by now. "Employment just isn't ready for someone of my caliber."

You stared at him, one brow raised, before holding up six fingers.

"Remind me how many times you've been rejected by the campus café?"

He blinked.

"Oh, right." You wiggled your fingers in his face. "Six."

"Rejection is redirection."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

The two of you settled into a comfortable rhythm.

You labeled the boxes. Riki shoved pieces of the past year into them without a second thought, seemingly unconcerned with the fact that he'd have to unpack every single one later. Then you came behind him, folding the flaps shut and sealing them with the duct tape you'd brought.

If someone asked you to materialize your friendship into a single action, it would be this.

You, organizing the chaos he created.

When the room was finally bare, stripped of every trace of Riki from the past year, the two of you stared at the boxes littering the floor.

Your eyes wandered around the room, and so did his.

"Well, would you look at that?" he said, checking an imaginary watch. "The most petrifying years of my life packed into those neat little boxes of yours in... three hours."

You looked at the empty walls where your Polaroids used to hang, at his bare desk where you'd spent countless hours studying instead of using your own. Then your gaze landed on the tiny single bed in the corner—the one you'd collapsed onto whenever the drinks hit too hard and walking back to your own room felt impossible.

Now it was stripped of the black mattress Riki had sworn was the scratchiest thing he'd ever laid on.

"You know," you said quietly, "I thought I'd feel weird about leaving."

"And?"

Your eyes drifted over the empty room one last time.

"Turns out all the stuff I'm actually gonna miss is leaving with me."

He looked at you for a moment before smiling.

"That's disgustingly sentimental."

"Literally go fuck yourself with a chainsaw."

He laughed. "Wow. I mean, if I had a roommate like yours, I wouldn't be missing much either." He let out an exaggerated sigh before dropping onto the bare bed frame. "But honestly? Me neither. I'm just gonna miss not having to be a full adult."

"We're victims, honestly. I thought we had more time," you said, sitting down near his legs.

"Tell me about it." He threw an arm over his face.

"We have rent due in two weeks," you reminded him, resting your cheek against your palm.

"Always the one with a reminder, aren't you?" He peeked at you through his fingers.

"Duh." You stood and pulled the two sets of keys from your jacket pocket, dangling them in front of his face. "Now let's get going. We don't have all day, and I want to start unpacking our new place."

"Whatever." He snatched the keys from your hand and stood. "I'm just glad it's you. Honest to God, I love Jay, but if I have to hear him talk about Max Verstappen one more fucking time, I'm putting a bullet between my eyes, and I'm making you watch."

You laughed before bending down to grab a box.

Together, the two of you made a few more trips back and forth, arms aching a little more with every flight of stairs. By the time only one box remained, the room looked unfamiliar—bare walls, empty shelves, not even a stray hoodie forgotten in the corner.

Riki picked up the last box while you took one final look around.

"Ready?" he asked.

You nodded.

Together, the two of you carried the last box out of the room.

Riki nudged the door shut with his foot before giving the handle one absent-minded jiggle to make sure it'd locked.

Click.

The sound echoed down the empty hallway.

Just like that, sophomore year was behind you.

The apartment waiting across town suddenly made junior year feel a lot closer than either of you were ready for.

You adjusted the box in your arms before falling into step beside him.

Neither of you looked back.

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀♱ ⠀

So, you knew living with Riki was a choice.

A choice that you definitely made sober.

What you hadn't accounted for was the reality of actually living with him.

You would've thought that after seventeen years together, at least a fraction of your common sense would've rubbed off on him.

It hadn't.

Not even a little.

If anything, living together had only confirmed one thing:

Riki was, and always would be, an absolute fucking menace.

Which was exactly why, instead of unpacking the mountain of boxes currently occupying your apartment, you found yourself sitting on the only piece of furniture in the living room—an orange tufted couch the two of you had rescued from the side of the road.

A hidden gem, you'd insisted.

A biohazard, Riki had argued.

You'd won.

Unfortunately.

Because after hauling every last box inside and mentally preparing to spend the rest of the afternoon unpacking...

...you opened the front door to find nine very familiar faces staring back at you.

"Oh my God! I thought we'd never get the party started!" Chaewon squealed, launching herself at you with absolutely no regard for the box still balanced in your arms.

Then came Manon.

Then Sophia.

"How in the fuck did you guys even get in here?" you managed to mumble, your voice thoroughly smothered by a wall of limbs.

Riki walked in a second later, setting his box down as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

"Hyungs! Finally."

...

Oh, he was going to die.

Right after you escaped whatever the fuck this hug prison was.

The smell hit you first.

Fruity soju.

Sweat.

More soju.

"Jesus Christ," you grimaced. "Did you guys bathe in Chamisul?"

“Y/N!” Jungwon yelled as he lunged at you full force. Congratulations. You'd escaped one hug prison and been immediately transferred to another.

...

Okay.

This one wasn't exactly unwelcome.

You laughed, wrapping your arms around him before the realization hit all at once.

Oh.

Oh, no.

You were wearing black sweatpants.

Your ugly-ass UGG boots.

A sweat-soaked black Skims tank.

Finals-week hair.

And you probably smelled like cardboard, dust, and three flights of stairs.

Fantastic.

Of course Jungwon had to see you looking like this.

“Hey,” you muffled in his arms before pulling away.

You combed your fingers through your hair, or tried to at least.