#jadenlix

“I can't see,” you groan out, your eyes heavy from the night before. A night of heavy drinking and questionable acts with your friends seems good at first. The morning after always becoming a chore. But it was worth it- in the grand scheme of things. 

“What the fuck do you mean you can’t see,” Your best friend groaned from the floor. You grunt as you pull yourself over slightly to look down from the sofa. 

“What are you doing on the floor Jisung.” You meant it as a question, but ended up coming out more as a statement. 

Jisung looked as rough as you felt, you were sure he’d say the same. “You shoved me off the couch, so I just stayed here,” he said, sitting up as he recuperates himself. Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

“Why didn't I sleep in my bed,” you ask, swinging your legs over Jisung. His arms automatically latch onto them. 

“Because, my dear friend,” he said, resting his chin on your knee as he looked up at you, “you wanted to cuddle”

You roll your eyes, “Liar” you stand up, pushing Jisung off you, reaching your arms out, letting out a loud groan as you stretch. 

Almost as if it was planned, a crash was heard from the hallway. You look back down at Jisung, both your eyes wide with shock. 

Of course noises weren’t scarce here. You lived in an apartment complex in the upper east side of New York. You could hear all sorts from up here, loud tenants from below you, or the occasional noises from your neighbor from the other penthouse suite. 

“Maybe Andrea left a few things?” Jisung guessed, now standing up from his makeshift bed on the floor. 

Andrea was a model who lived in the other penthouse. She had moved out around a week ago, and there were a few noises from her then, so it was a completely reasonable thought that it could be her. 

“Go have a look!” You say, shoving Jisung towards the door, much to his distaste, there was no way in hell you were going to open up the door and have a look. So Jisung was the next best option.

“What the hell do you want me to do?” He looks back at you, he looks just as nervous as you. You were both way too hungover for anything remotely this anxiety-inducing.

“Go, and have a look!!” You repeat, pushing him closer to the door.

“And then what?! Want me to fight them?” 

“No just…JUST LOOK!!”

“But I don’t want to!”

“Just open the door Jisung!”

He huffs in response, begrudgingly walking towards the door. Pausing to pick up the dustpan brush from the side table. “Just in case,” he tells you.

“What’s the brush going to do?” You whisper, lurking behind him as he opens the door.

“Chris??” 

“No way-”

Jisung’s posture relaxed, so you slowly peered over his shoulder to look also.

There he was, Chris. You weren’t too sure if it was the same Chris you assumed him to be. You knew Jisung had a cousin called Chris. You had met him on many occasions. But when you all were kids. Making him play with your Bratz dolls or pretending you were interested in his bop-it. But the memory of Chris was a skinny short kid with glasses with a horrible sense of style and an addiction to collecting match attacks. But this Chris, standing at your door, was not skinny. With no glasses to be seen, his compression top concealed little to none of his muscles. Barrel chested with abs showing just enough for you to stare a little too long. Grey sweats hanging loosely at his hips. 

“Wait, cousin Chris?” You whisper, staring at the man at your front door alongside Jisung.

“What the hell are you doing here man?” Jisung walked over to him, bringing Chris into a hug. You stay standing in the doorway as you watch them. Squinting your eyes slightly as you watch them, trying to analyze Chris to see if there was anything about him you thought was familiar. But if he was the same cousin, Chris, he seriously grew up. 

Chris opens his eyes and glues them to yours as he pulls away from the hug with Jisung. 

“Cousin Chris?” You repeat, still standing behind them.

“Yes!” He replied, pulling your arm around so you were standing beside him. “Do you remember each other?” 

Chris stood there for a short while, frowning as he analyzed you. His eyes ran down your body, and then finally your face. And you made eye contact again. His lips turned into a playful smile. He knew you. “No way that’s her” There was something about him. Something about the way he looked at you. You couldn’t put your finger on it.

“Yep, I know, she grew up” Jisung chuckles, ruffling your hair. Causing you to glare at him, you were only a month younger than him. He was doing this to be funny in front of his cousin.

“And you fucking didn’t” you glare up at him. You enjoyed banter of course, but you were in front of someone you hadn’t seen in over a decade, so Christ was basically a whole new person you were meeting.

“Nothing new then” he smirked, keeping his eyes on you, his playfulness was telling. He was charismatic, that’s for sure.

Jisung frowned at Chris, not looking to please with the side he chose to back, “So what are you doing here exactly?” 

“We just bought this bad boy,” Chris replies, motioning to the penthouse across from you.

We. 

“which means we’re neighbors, little cousin” Chris adds, looking away from you finally.

You shake your head “Oh no Ji doesn’t live with me” 

Though you did sometimes wish he did live with you, to help you with groceries, rent and well, all the bills really, but in the grand scheme of things, having a roommate would be a terrible idea.

“Yeah no, I’m still living with Jeongin, have been since college” Jisung added, looking up and down the hallway, “where’s Vanessa?”

You felt your heart sink a little. You weren’t sure why. You didn’t like Chris or anything. You wouldn’t lie and say he wasn’t attractive. The man was practically built by some higher power. But you had just guessed it was the shameless hope that Chris living right next to you would mean you could spend some time catching up, without worrying about a jealous girlfriend. 

“She’s at the babysitter's house for tonight, I thought it would be easier than making her tag along whilst I set up the apartment”

“You have a child?!” You gasp, probably looking way more shocked than you wanted to. But you were shocked. Painfully so. That means Chris has a long-term partner, even worse for jealousy.

“Yeah, with my wife, she just turned five” he beamed, beginning to tell you all about how she’s getting on at nursery, it seemed she was a budding artist by the sounds of things. A lover of music, more so when Chris played for her. He told you that most nights she requests a song on the guitar instead of a book. And- “she still hasn’t processed Olivia’s death” 

Your face saddened, your eyes watching his, but he was just focused on Jisung. Which made sense, he was his cousin, after all, you have been a stranger until now. He wasn’t confiding in you. But he had a wife, he was a widow. You couldn’t remotely imagine his pain. 

“Is it that she hasn’t processed it, or she doesn’t understand” Jisung spoke gently now, but you clear your throat, interrupting the heavy conversation. 

“Look, why don’t you come in Chris” you suggest, opening your front door wider, “saves people listening and you two can talk whilst I shower” 

Chris nods, following you and Jisung back into your apartment. “Make yourself at home” you smile, “I’ll be in the shower if you need me, Ji” 

You walk towards your bedroom, then into your adjacent bathroom. You were still processing everything, not entirely sure you could process it all. 

You groan, reaching over to turn the shower on to let it run hot.  You were still extremely hungover. The fact that Chris was moving in across from you. That Chris had a wife, has a child?! Was borderline insanity for you. 

-

“Jisung!!” You scream out for him, no answer.

Frustrated, you walk towards your bedroom door, water dripping from your bare body onto the floor. “Jisung! Please, there’s no towel in my bathroom!” You call out again. It was impossible for him to not hear you. The walls weren’t that thick. 

“Where are they?” 

That wasn’t Jisung.

“y/n, where are the towels?” You could hear in his voice he was holding back a laugh.

“Chris?” You ask, of course, your luck landed you right where you didn’t want to be. “Where’s Ji?” 

“He went down to get the drinks from the Uber Eats person” he replies, sounding closer to the door than you’d like. 

“Fuck sake” you mutter to yourself, “would you mind going into the laundry room to grab me a towel please?” You ask, looking down at the small wet patch on the floor your dripping body had formed. Your head pressed against your door in embarrassment.

“Yeah, sure thing” You hear his steps gradually getting further, but soon enough they are coming back, “where is that by the way?” 

“The room right at the end of the hallway”

“On it”

After a few minutes you hear a knock at your door, “Thank You! Just leave it on the floor!” 

You hear a chuckle, “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Chris im sure” you scoff, waiting to hear his footsteps draw away from the door once more. When you're sure he’s gone, you quickly open your bedroom door, grabbing the towel from the floor. “Thanks!” You call down to him, seeing a thumbs-up pop around the corner of the hallway. Being too quick to shut the door after yourself.

You return to the lounge once you have dried and dressed. Sweats and a tank top.. Jisung had also returned whilst you were busy dressing. Your americano sat on the coffee table. 

“Thanks, Ji” you smile, sitting cross-legged on your couch. Despite the warm shower, you still felt gross. You hoped you’d feel more alive after the caffeine. 

You stay in silence as the cousins catch up. It was nice seeing them like this, chatting away, even though it was in your apartment.

You knew Jisung had missed Chris, he brought him up now and again. Moments like when you and Jisung were 9 years old, forcing 12-year-old Chris to play with your toys. When all he wanted to do was hang out with his friends. Or Chris pushing Jisung into his pool, forgetting he couldn’t swim. All the while, you admired this older kid from a short distance. As you were growing up, you had a huge crush on Chris. He was older, had an accent (still does) and was the kind of guy you crush on because he’s so out of your reach. 

You flinch, feeling an elbow in your side, “dude, stop staring into space”

“I feel gross, let me do what I want” You stare at Jisung, scrunching your face up. 

You receive a scowl from him. He looked rough too. He probably, No definitely, needed a shower also. His brown locks had curled up at the ends. Now that you had seen Chris, you were pretty sure curls ran in the family. Though Jisung’s only ever showed when he hadn’t washed his hair in a few days. 

“I should probably get back to moving my stuff in from the van” Chris announced after a few more minutes of catching up with Jisung, slapping his hands against his thighs before he stood up, “care to help me?” His eyes scrolled over you despite his question being directed to Jisung.

“Not really” 

You had the sudden urge to offer instead. You wanted to spend time with Chris, to get to know him all over again. It was obvious he wanted that too, right? You clear your throat, standing up. “I’ll help” you decide, looking at Jisung, “because you need to shower”

You exit your apartment with Chris, leaving Jisung to shower in peace. You were sure to remind him to bring a towel with him. Despite him not needing to worry about anyone seeing his ass. 

The van was parked pretty close to the entrance, though now that you were down here, looking inside the van at the large couch, bed and kitchen appliances. You regretted the decision to help. The furniture was bland and white, with no colour palette at all. The only colour is the huge pink dollhouse right at the back of the van. It was positively depressing. He probably didn't have any plans to paint his walls either. He and his daughter were living in a paper world.  

“See, there's not a lot” his voice breaks the silence, patting you on your shoulder before holding the side of the van and jumping up into it. 

“Of colour?” you stare up at him, still shocked at the boring load, “Are you allergic to colour Chris?”

He laughs. 

His laugh is gorgeous. His eyes curve into the most beautiful eye smile and his dimples. His fucking dimples. You want to kiss him as he smiles, you want to make him laugh more. Be the only reason he smiles. 

No. You mentally shake your head at yourself. This was just the residue of a childhood crush. He was a widow, with a child, probably just trying to start afresh. He didn't need you fantasizing over him.

“Get up here” he offers you his right hand. You clear your throat before taking his hand. Jumping up into the van with him. Almost sending you flying into the mattress. He places his hands on your shoulders to steady you, so you don't go flying. He had a lot of arm strength. More than you thought he had anyway. You weren't exactly short, you and Chris were around the same height, he was maybe one inch or so taller than you. Standing right in front of him now, just confirmed it. Physically you were almost equal heights, but you felt incredibly small next to him. He carried himself as though he was 6’5.

“You’re alright” he cooed. 

“Yeah, well” you shrug his hands off your shoulders, planning to attempt to move the couch, “don’t try and javelin me in the future”

After a very drawn-out 45 minutes, the remaining furniture had been placed into the apartment. Granted it wasn’t neat, but you didn’t sign up for a move around. You lean against the couch, watching Chris as he grabbed you both some bottled water from the cooler. And thank god for his offering because you felt as though you were on the brink of dehydration 

“Catch” 

You barely manage to reach far enough to clasp onto the bottle. Nodding your head as a Thankyou before taking a large gulp. 

“Do you mind if I quickly change my top before we get the last bits?”

You almost choke on the mouthful of water, “there’s more?!” 

You offered to help with that load because you believed that was the last load. But now there was another load, and what if there was another load after that, and another, you’d be loaded out. 

“Just a few little bits, I promise not that much, mostly light stuff!” He says, lifting a box onto the white kitchen island, in his white open-plan kitchen. Too much white.

“If it’s all light stuff, why do you need me?” You didn’t mean to be rude, but it was a valid question. Why did he need you to help him with the remaining light weighted stuff? And why the hell was he taking off his shirt-

You watch him in awe. He had turned to the side, you guessed in an attempt to conceal his body, but it wasn’t doing anything. You could very clearly, very easily see every single cut and groove. Almost certain that he was crafted with a Greek god in mind.  The muscles on his back moved with such grace as he fully removed the shirt. He had completely stolen your eye contact and you wanted it back before you started drooling. 

“Don’t be such a perv” 

“Oh, I wasn’t-”

“Really?” He asked, making his way towards you as he pulled on a white vest. “ ‘cause it looked like you were”

You hold your hand up, standing to face him “Did you want my help or not?” 

“Since you offered” he smirks, knowing full well he trapped you into sounding like you had offered to help. He still had remnants of his 12-year-old self, and you liked that.

-

It had been a week since Chris had moved in. 

You hadn’t seen him in a while either, sometimes you’d cross paths on the way in or out of the complex. But he never stopped to talk to you. The first few times it had you stumped, thinking you had done something. Replaying the time you spent with him but you couldn’t pinpoint anything. So you whittled it down to him being in a rush. 

So here you were, curled up on the couch, wrapped up in a blanket with criminal minds playing on the tv. Half eaten pizza sitting in its box on the side. 

Your eyes are heavy, you should really get to bed before you fall asleep on the couch for the second time this week. But you body just doesn’t want to move. 

Knock Knock

You jolt up, checking the time on your phone. 

10:35pm.

“What the fuck, who the fuck, why the fuck” you mutter as you stand, wrapping your blanket around you. Planning on peeping through the hole first. 

“It’s Chris” you hear him outside the door before you get a chance to look, announcing himself, knocking twice more. 

You pause, even questioning if you should open the door to him. Wanting to desperately be rude, just like he had been. Though lucky for him, you weren’t a jerk. 

You swing the door open, “what do you want” you snap immediately. Causing Chris to look taken aback. You figured he deserved a bit of jerkiness.

“Sorry, I know it’s late” he starts, peering inside your apartment slightly, relaxing shortly after. “I just, I needed your help” he asked with a sigh, his eyebrows softening as he looked at you. 

You weren’t sure whether to laugh or cry. He ignores you for a week. Then shows up at your door asking for your help? It was positively laughable. 

“Are you a freeloader Chris?” You ask bluntly.

“What? No, I just, please, just” he pauses to look back at his apartment, “please just get dressed and come to mine”

You blink at him, what earth does this man live on? What happened to the Chris you helped last Wednesday? You couldn’t even believe what he was actually doing. He really made his way to your apartment, knocked on your door at 10:30pm and instructed you to get dressed and go over to his. How the hell did he think that all through and still think it was acceptable? 

“I wouldn’t ask if I seriously didn’t need your help”

You still stay quiet, just watching him.

“Fine” you roll your eyes, pulling the blanket off and throwing it over to your couch. If he needed your help this bad, you refused to change out of the comfort of your pyjama shorts and sweatshirt. 

You grab your keys and walk out with him. Locking your door behind you. 

He leads you into his apartment, other than dead silence, you could hear the distant sound of cries. 

“It’s Vanessa, she’s upset about her mother” he tells you, continuing to lead you through the apartment. Stopping outside the door that had pink letters stuck over it spelling out ‘Nessie’

You don’t say anything at first, just looking up at him, his eyes spoke a million more words then his mouth ever could. He was scared, clueless maybe, Lost definitely, he’s grieving and was struggling to help his daughter grieve also.

“Okay” you agree, without really needing him to ask you. 

His eyes softened, becoming teary eyed. Relief. 

“Get us a drink, let me try and talk to her, she doesn’t know me so it might help having a woman come and speak to her” you sigh, placing a hand on his upper arm, attempting to reassure him. 

“Thankyou, I’m sorry for-”

“Don’t, just get drinks ready, come in after, yeah?” 

He nods and heads toward the kitchen. 

You turn to the door, reaching for the handle, taking a deep breath before entering. 

“Vanessa?” You whisper, looking into her room, being sure to leave the door open so Chris could hear and see everything going on. 

You couldn’t see her at first, the room being filled with pink made it tricky, everything blended in together. But a small head poked out from behind the dolls house, small dark eyes staring back at you. In any other situation, this would be the kinda thing you see and run from. But given the situation, your heart ached. 

“Hey sweetie” you slowly take a few steps forward, being careful not to make her feel scared. “I’m your daddy’s friend, y/n” 

“Hi…” she whispers back, staying in her safe place. Still watching you. 

“He’s told me a lot about you!” Kneeling down in front of the dolls house, she had dark brown hair, it was messy. Strands of hair falling in front of her face, sticking to her cheeks from the tears. You didn’t know the first thing about children really. But surely it wasn’t hard. Right? 

“Are you my daddy’s new girlfriend?” She whispered.

The question staggered you. The obvious answer was, ‘no’ but you didn’t want to say that in case that was something she wanted to hear. 

“Well, I’m his friend, and a girl..” you start, slowly moving the doll's house towards you. Allowing space for Vanessa to move if she wanted. “So I guess you could say that. Do you have a friend that’s a girl?” 

She looks at you, her sniffling had stopped, “I don’t like boy-friends, they smell” 

You laugh softly, she had chirped up a bit from just simply distracting her. “I’m sure your daddy would be pleased to hear that” once she had moved from behind the dolls house, she sat in front of you. 

“I had a best friend, who was a girl,” she continued, her small fingers pulling at a loose thread in her sock. “Maisie, she was the bestest friend ever. But she lives in Australia..” she whispers, lowering her head once more, you could just about see her bottom lip quivering. 

“I’m sure you’ll find new friends here!” You start, now properly sitting down opposite her, crossing your legs to match her position. “I can be your first friend if you’d like?” You suggest, watching as she looks back up at you. Her expression was puzzling, she was unsure of what to make of you. Granted you were a strange woman who just asked a five year old to be her friend. You were unsure of what to make of yourself at this moment in time. 

“Really? But won’t daddy be angry?” 

You frown, curious as to why she’d ask that. “Why would he be angry?”

“Because he always tries to, to make sure he doesn’t see you” 

“Ahem”

The both of you turn around at the sound of Chris announcing himself at the bedroom door. “You met y/n? What do you think Nessie?” He asked, sitting on the edge of her bed, patting his knee so she could climb up. 

“I love her, she said she will be my friend!” 

He chuckled, looking down at you, “I guess we’ll be seeing her a lot more then hmm?” 

As if it were planned, Vanessa looks down at you too, both of them smiling at you. “I mean, I’m busy on weekdays but I can make time for my new best friend!” You smile at her, ignore Chris’ stare, desperate to ask him what Vanessa meant. 

After a few moments of you pacing around chris’ living room. Debating on ditching and running back to jump into your own bed. Chris came back from putting Vanessa to sleep. The closing of her bedroom door caught your attention rather abruptly. 

You looked over to him, “Chris..” 

“You haven’t touched your drink”

You glance at the full mug of coffee on the counter top. You honestly had forgotten about it, but you also just really wanted to leave. 

“I just thought it was best to leave” you motion to the door.

It felt awkward, you had questions, but it wasn’t the right time. Only now you have processed what a mess Chris looked. Not a dirty mess, an emotional mess. His hair curlier and messier than usual, a black tank top with what looked like baked beans spilt down it. Perhaps from trying to get Vanessa to eat her dinner. You glance over at the sink and see piled up dishes. He’d only been living here a week. How did things seem so out of place already? How long ago did he lose his wife? How long had he been feeling like this? Pity began to brew inside you.

“But I can stay for a bit if you want?” You suggest, coming to the decision to clean his dishes and sit with him, perhaps he just needed another adult to talk too. 

“That would mean a lot, Thankyou” he smiles. He has a nice smile. “I’ll make you a fresh cup if you want?” 

“I’d prefer something cold” you say, walking with him into the kitchen. He nods, opening the fridge.

“I have orange juice, apple juice, Fanta and Pepsi” he offers, “oh and obviously water” 

“Surprise me” you say leaning on the counter opposite the sink. The dishes staring right back at you. “I’ll do your dishes as a Thankyou”

You catch him glance at you from the fridge, most likely to say no, but hopefully he realised it wasn’t worth his time.

“So Vanessa mentioned you didn’t want to see me” you blurted out, placing a bowl onto the drying rack. You hear his breath hitch slightly. But you don’t say anything. 

“She’s not a good secret keeper my Nessie.” He sighed, screwing the lid on the drink, returning it to the fridge. “I’ve been on edge since we quote on quote, reunited” 

You pause mid cleaning of a plate. Biting your bottom lip nervously. “What do you have to be on edge about?” You reply after a few seconds, continuing your washing up. You turn slightly to watch him out of the corner of your eye. Spotting that he had pooped you both some apple juice. Your favourite. He couldn’t have possibly remembered that it was your favourite, but the thought of him remembering gave you a warm feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“It’s been over a decade since the last time I had seen you, I think it’s fair to assume we’d both be a bit nervous,” he says, reaching his hands towards yours, wrapping his fingers around your wrists. Pulling them out of the sink.

“Chris what are you-”

“You’ve done plenty for me, come sit in the other room” he holds both your wrists together with one hand over the sink, reaching below you to grab the tea towel hanging from the cupboard. Wrapping it around your hands. You felt as though you couldn’t breathe whilst he did this. He was being so gentle, so kind. The bare minimum and you were practically swooning already. Mentally telling yourself off as you pull your hands away gently, drying them. 

“Okay, sure, we can do that” 

You sat cross legged on his couch, facing him, taking a sip glass of apple juice whilst he laughed.

“You know I never found that Pokémon card, I was distraught for weeks once we moved”

You swallow your drink before you spit it out by laughing. “I was distraught when you left!” You laugh, he laughs with you but it was a funny laugh, more of a sad laugh. 

“I wanted to say goodbye, you were one of my favourite friends” he sighs, placing his hand against your ankle. “But my mum and dad wanted to be gone as soon as possible, I didn’t even have time to say goodbye to jisung” 

“I mean, 9 year old me was going through the five stages of grief, my crush had moved away” you laugh, noticing how his eyes glazed over when you had mentioned the crush. “What is it?”

“You had a crush on me?” He pulled a smile.

“Yeah, I did, could you blame me? You were a cute kid” 

“I had glasses and early acne” 

“Whilst acne still doesn’t bother me” you start, admiring the way he looked whilst listening to you, “glasses still do it for me”

He cocks his eyebrow, leaning over the arm of the couch, returning back with glasses in his hands, “I still wear them, see”

“Looking good Christopher” you laugh as he places them on. “So you have contacts too?” 

He shakes his head, “nah, my eyesight isn’t terribly bad, I only really need glasses for reading, my mum just made me wear them all the time just incase” 

You watch as he removes them, his hand falling back onto your ankle, but slightly higher up this time. You look up to him. The static of attraction was so unbearable. For you anyway, you were unsure if he was feeling the same. Thought the hand on your lower leg said enough. 

He sucks his teeth. Thumb rubbing gently against your leg, his eyes watching his own movement. You shift slightly, making sure to keep your thighs squeezed together. The light touch of his fingers pressed against your leg produced a tingling sensation in between your legs. You should probably leave right? You're definitely just sexually frustrated. 

“So this crush you had” he finally says. Eyes piercing into you as he leaned back, leaning his head on the back of the sofa, eyes hungry. 

“What about it?” You question, eyes darting down once you feel his hand start to ride up towards your knee. 

“Don’t look at my hand, look at me” 

You immediately snap your eyes up to him. His hand continues to move upwards, but at a painfully slow pace. Clearly the attraction was mutual. 

“Does it still apply?” He asked, his voice hoarse. Hand now on your thigh, teasing the rim of your shorts. You look down to his hand for a brief second. Noticing your thighs had separated again somewhere between now and a few moments ago. 

Your brain was starting to get fuzzy, all your focus on him. You felt as though you were surrounded by him on all sides, his touch lit you on fire. You were about to answer him but your words died on your tongue. Only able to provide a nod. 

Within seconds he had pulled you onto his lap, his hands finding his way up your sweatshirt, running up your back, You looked down at him with curious eyes. Your fingers brushing against his shoulders. His arms link up together behind your back, pulling you closer. Your hands making their way to his hair. 

Your faces are inches away from each other, breath heavy and hot.

“Chris”

“y/n”

As if you were almost in sync, your lips met hungrily. Sloppy, desperate, needy. It wasn’t beautiful, it was fucking disgraceful. The way your hands were fumbling to remove his shirt. The way his lips didn’t want to part when his top and your sweatshirt were removed. Leaving him shirtless in sweats and you bare chested in shorts. 

“You’re okay with this?” He asked between sloppy kisses against your neck, his hands careful not to touch your breasts until he heard you say something.

“Mhm” a moan as a response, hands tugging lightly at his hair.

“Words please” 

“Yes, Chris, yes” you mumble. 

Gently, his fingers of his right hand caress down your back, tips finding their way under your waist band before the pads dig into your flesh. A low groan leaves him as his hands squeeze your hips. The left hand pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. The feeling burned a small smile of excitement into your face. Continuing his movements, Chris stroked your skin before returning to a squeeze, but not releasing his hold this time. Instead, using it to rock your hips backward, the sudden pressure against your clit sends a rush through your body. A whimper slipping past your lips without your control. 

“Quiet, no sound” he whispers, Pressing a kiss to your neck, you shudder at the warmth of his breath and although you couldn't see it, Chris was definitely smirking. Ignoring it and him, you rocked your hips again, rougher this time. Biting back a moan as the rush returned. Your face fell into the crook of his neck, sucking and biting at his skin to stop yourself from moaning.

He grunts lowly as he continues to move your hips back and forth against his thigh. The layers between your skin and his thigh quickly built friction. Your clothed clit twitching with desperation to feel his thigh fully. You bite down harder against his skin, earning a groan from him, his fingers digging into your skin deeper. Your fingers found their way into his hair pulling and tugging at his scalp. His lips and tongue find their way to your shoulder. His mouth is immediate, sucking and biting your skin. Wanting more than just the mess between your legs and wobble of your walk to be proof of his work. 

It was desperation. Both quiet as anything. Biting at each other's skin. You, desperate for a release. Chris, desperate to make you cum. Still unsure how you both ended up in the situation. 

"Nggh-Chris” You whispered into his neck, shaking as your orgasm approached.

"Already?" He questioned you with a low rasp to his voice. "Gunna cum on my thigh?”

Heat rose to your cheeks, you were. You were about cum on his thigh and you were going to enjoy the fuck out of it. 

His grip tightened, nails digging into your skin as he assisted your hips to speed up. His lips met yours, silencing the beautiful noises you were making. In an instant, all the friction you'd built-up came tumbling down as your orgasm took over your body. You took your time, overindulging it. Tightly closing your eyes, moving to bite down onto his shoulder again. 

By now, he could feel the wet patch on his thigh getting bigger and he couldn't help but lick his lips with a smile. His hand moved up your back and to your hair, pulling your head back, so he could watch your face as you came down from your highs, his cock tight against his own clothes. You could barely hear the coo of praises he gave you as your heart pumped in your ears and your body relaxed into his chest. "Good girl,” he hummed and you shivered as Chris carefully laid you back on the couch.

You rest your arm over your eyes as the realisation of what just happened washes over you. Jolting up to a sitting position to stare at Chris. Eyes looking down to his leg, the obvious outline of his boner added to the large wet patch on his thigh. You then feel between your legs and feel the wet patch. That was the first ever time you had squirted. And it happened from riding a fucking thigh. You jumped up front the couch, grabbing your sweatshirt from the floor, pulling it on.

“I uh, I need to get back, have a shower or something”

“Shower or something?”

“This was fun!”

Before Chris could object you practically ran out of his apartment and straight into yours. Heart racing ten to a dozen. Slamming the door shut and leaning against it. 

This was going to be an interesting.

------------------------------------------------------------------

“I worship you”

Chris’ hands left a lustrous trail behind them as they glided down your bare skin. Fingertips leaving his mark along your waist. A mark that would be Unseen to the naked eye. Because it was his mark, his personal touch upon your bare body, you were his. Not as an object. No. But you belonged to him, in every way possible, and he made sure you knew just how much he truly adored you at every chance he got.

Earlier, A quiet dinner out with some of chris’ friends. A gentle touch upon your thigh, not to be suggestive, just possessive. Making sure you knew who you belonged to. The burgundy bodycon dress hugged your desirable figure perfectly, almost too perfect. Any double glance someone made to you, you found Chris’ hand against the small of your back, sometimes lower. Ghost kisses beneath your ear, followed by a whisper of compliments.

So irresistible, so beautiful, breathtaking. Your boyfriend is rushing you back home, no words spoken in the car. Words were not needed. The way his eyes danced around your neck, your shoulders. The way his breath caught in his throat when he noticed the rise of your chest when the cold air hit your body once you had exited the restaurant. The way your lips curved up into a pleasant smile when saying your farewells to jisung, Minho and Seungmin. The smile he knew meant nothing but happiness and sweetness. The way you glanced back at Chris when the three others had gone their separate ways home. Your eyes communicating just as much as his were. No words needed. You wanted him, he wanted you. And you had each other.

“Mmm, show me” you whisper, looking down at your boyfriend. His eyes looking up at you with such love and adoration. Chris was in no way the submissive in the relationship. Though, him being on his knees in front of you wasn’t a rare occurrence. He took every chance he could to show you how easily you could make him switch up.

His crisp white button up laid somewhere between the front door and the staircase. The blazer he had given you to cover your shoulders? In the kitchen. Your dress was half way off your body once you entered the bedroom. Now looking like a spilt glass of merlot at the foot of your bed. And to finish it off. Your exceptional black laced bra had been discarded beside Chris.

His hands stilled at your hips. Kneeling up to rest his forehead gently against your sternum. Delicate kisses peppering down your stomach. His palms running down with his lips. Stopping once more at your thighs. A final kiss being left just above your panty line. A small bow holding the tightness of the clothing. Like a perfectly packaged gift, just begging Chris to open it.

Your hand moved to his hair, playing with the loose curls. “Do something” you whisper. Begging him almost. The romantic foreplay drives you insane. He knew this.

Chris smiles up at you, taking a deep breath as he lets his fingers dance up toward the perfectly tied bow. “Then let me show you, just how much I love you”

And he did. He really did.