#jhf

For as long as you could remember, you held top grades all throughout school. You were the ideal student; studious, diligent, responsible. Never did you miss a deadline, fail to complete a project, bomb a test, or even get a grade below a B. You likened it to your meticulous study habits that you’d perfected over time, something you were quite proud of. After all, things like this didn’t just come to anyone with no hard work.

Unless ‘anyone’ is Choi Jongho.

His very existence drove you insane, because he was everything you were not. Lazy, irresponsible, carefree. You’d never seen him open a textbook, or even jot down a single note. Writing down due dates? Forget it. You didn’t think he had ever put a modicum of effort into anything in his life.

And yet…

“Oh–Y/N! Did you see?”

That voice stopped you in your tracks in the library and you closed your eyes, fists clenching as you let out a slow breath to the count of three in your head. You turned around to find Jongho behind you, the department’s rankings in his hand. Playing it cool you raised a brow, tilting your head. 

“Top again, like last month. I was sure it would be you this time,” he said with what seemed like a genuine frown for you on his features. Then the smirk you knew to follow curled the corners of his lips upward. 

Jackass.

He knew how hard you had worked and shoved it in your face–almost quite literally–as he held the rankings out toward you.

You tried to hide your irritation, jaw clenched as you scanned the document. 

Half a point.

He beat you by half a point.

Again.

Anger rose within you and it must have been obvious the way Jongho’s smile spread wide and he chuckled, lowering the page. “Better luck next month, I guess. What was it you said to me? ‘Hard work pays off, you’ll see’?” He tilted his head at you, brows knit while he stroked his chin.

“Knock it off, Jongho. Before I knock that grin off your stupid face,” you warned, shoving past him with your shoulder.

His laughter followed you as did he as you stalked off into the stacks. “Aw, come on, Y/N. Loosen up, maybe you’d finally beat me if you relaxed a little, huh?” He was pushing your buttons now and he knew it. Giving him any kind of reaction would just mean that he won. But it was getting harder and harder to keep walking and ignore him. You had been so sure that you had him beat this time around, so to see evidence to the contrary–you weren’t thinking straight.

So you stopped walking abruptly, which caused Jongho to bump into your back before stumbling backwards a step. You whirled tightly towards him, your brow set in a firm frown. “I don’t get it, Jongho. You sit on your ass and do nothing, you never study, never stress, couldn’t plan your way out of a cardboard box, and yet no matter how hard I try, I keep coming in second to you. What’s your secret, huh? Are you cheating? Paying someone to do your work for you?”

You were on a roll, chest rising with adrenaline-fueled breaths. Jongho noticed how serious you were about this, his smile dying into a frown before turning into a cold irritation. “Really? Y’know, I ignore your nagging when it comes to studying and working hard because honestly, the results speak for themselves. Despite how incredibly annoying you can be. But you’re really going to accuse me of cheating? Not only that but paying someone to do my work for me?”

You turned and stalked off deeper into the stacks as he spoke, rage burning beneath the surface. He followed you, still going, his anger growing with each step you took away from him.

“Are you really so full of yourself you think the only way someone could be smarter than you is by paying someone else?”

That hurt and it made you stop in your tracks, white-knuckling your fists at your sides. 

“Answer me, Y/N,” Jongho barked as his hand grabbed your upper arm, whirling you to face him.

“Full of myself!?” you retorted loudly, library be damned. 

Jongho’s eyes flared as if to tell you to quiet down. You continued, your voice a harsh whisper.

“If anyone here is full of themselves it’s you, Choi Jongho. You know how hard I work, and yet you just rub it in my face when all my time and effort is proven wasted when you score higher than me. You even go out of your way to flaunt how you spend all the time I use to study.

“And you have the nerve to call me annoying? When all you do is goof off in class, interrupt the professor, and generally give no fucks about the class when others are trying to pay attention? Give me a break.”

You spat your words like they were poison in your mouth, breathing harder with each sentence as you finally let out all of the things you’d been thinking for weeks. Something in Jongho’s face had changed, but you couldn’t quite tell what it was. He looked angry, which pissed you off.

He had no right to be angry with you.

You opened your mouth to continue ranting but before you could, Jongho’s hands were on your shoulders pushing your back into the nearest bookshelf. He was looking down at you, his own chest rising and falling. Some emotion akin to anger seemed set in his features as he looked down at you. You were both angry it seemed, staring at each other like they were the most hated person in your world.

Time seemed to freeze.

There you both were, arguing in the stacks and now Jongho had your back to the shelves. Jongho wasn’t sure what he had done either. He had been listening to you, getting more irritated with each word and then he had moved. He stared daggers at you beneath him, breathing hard. Then his eyes seemed to change. Anger turned to something like hunger.

You were no stranger to this change, either. With him this close, you could smell his cologne and it wrapped around your senses, dulling the sharp edges of your anger into a smoldering heat. You were keenly aware of how your heart hammered in your chest, how you could feel his breath against your cheek.

Then, the tension snapped.

Jongho’s lips were on yours in an instant, the kiss crushing and stealing every ounce of breath from your lungs. His body pressed yours into the shelves, one arm planted beside your head as his other hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you in. Anger transformed into passion in an instant, your arms lifting to wrap around the back of his neck as your lips returned his fervent touch.

The fire was burning you both from the inside out, the silence around the two of you filling with escaped breaths and the sounds of desperate kisses. His grip tightened in your hair at the nape of your neck and pulled your head back making you gasp, his lips trailing down your jaw and to your neck. A groan rolled from his chest, the arm beside your head sliding down to grip your waist with bruising force. Your hips rolled into his in response to the possessive touch.

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” he breathed against your neck, marking the spot he spoke with a flick of his tongue.

Those words snapped you out of whatever lustful haze you had been under and you suddenly realized what you were doing.

You shoved Jongho away so quickly it took him by surprise. 

What you saw when you got space between you–his blown wide gaze, red lips from how hard he had been kissing you, hair disheveled from your fingers having just been locked in his strands–confused you as you stood there with panting breaths.

“Y/N, wh–”

“Don’t. Jongho, don’t.”

You stopped him abruptly, holding up a hand as your eyes closed and your other pinched the bridge of your nose. What had just happened? What did he mean he’d always wanted to do this? He hated you as much as you hated him, didn’t he?

So what had you two just done?

Jongho stared at you in confusion, it taking a bit more time for him to snap out of whatever spell you’d both just been under. But as he did, he took a step back, dragging a hand down his face. Shit. He should have kept his mouth shut. He’d always enjoyed teasing you, seeing the way your nose scrunched when you were angry or how you’d purse your lips when you were irritated. At first, he had just been bullying you. There had been nothing more or less behind it.

But over time, he’d grown to like you.

And the more you nagged him, the more his feelings grew.

Seeing you so upset this time, and hearing what you’d said. It had hit a nerve in him.

He was upset at himself, for going too far this time. If it were only teasing, he didn’t think anything of it. But you seemed really hurt. He didn’t think you truly hated him, but when you’d spoken your mind, he began to realize he may have been wrong.

Pinning you against the stacks wasn’t a conscious decision he’d made. His body moved on its own. Seeing that hurt look on your face, he wanted to make you feel better and hurt whoever had caused it until he realized it was himself.

And then he kissed you.

He’d really fucked up.

Now wasn’t the time to apologize. He’d caught you off guard and while it felt like the feeling was mutual, he didn’t want to push you. You were still hurt, after all.

“I’ve got to go,” you said curtly, adjusting your backpack on your shoulder as you pushed past him like earlier.

“Y/N, wait–”

But you had already walked out of the stacks with quick steps, disappearing around the corner.