#kconnet

When your boss moved you to the graveyard shift, you were certain it was nothing short of a curse. The lack of sunlight you witnessed, the subsequent cost of vitamin D supplements, the inherent loneliness of living your whole life while the majority of your city slept.

There were certain benefits, however, once you gave yourself the time to adjust. Laundry, for example. On your days off, you were perfectly free to saunter down to the completely empty laundry room in your apartment building, which was a rare sight. In days long past, you’d had to fight tooth and nail for an opportunity to run a load of laundry, although you had found that the room was mostly empty come 3 in the morning. Key word: mostly.

There was a certain gentleman, who apparently lived in your apartment building, although you hadn’t ever seen him before your late-night laundry escapades. Now, however, he seemed to be a regular fixture in your life. You hadn’t yet figured out whether this was a benefit or drawback. In fact, you were having trouble figuring him out in general.

Soft brown hair, a little overgrown but he wore it well. Warm eyes, dark and shining, the kind you’d expect to see on a puppy. An air of confidence, the sense that he knew exactly who he was and what he was worth. Something about him… you just had to know more. He was a particularly interesting synopsis on the back of a novel, and you wanted to stay up all night reading him, cover to cover. You’d begun sharing smiles with the man, glances across the laundry room. Not that night, though.

That night, his rosy lips were pointed decidedly downwards in a frustrated pout, his eyebrows furrowed in a worried knot. There was something on his mind, that much was clear, and your mind ran wild, creating stories about what might be troubling him. He’d missed his stop on the bus home and ended up in a strange neighbourhood, and he was attempting to comprehend the oddities he’d witnessed. He was an undefeated chess master, and an upcoming champion was threatening his spot on the throne. His pet turtle hadn’t been eating her greens and he just couldn’t figure out why. None of those things, or perhaps all of those things.

“Fuck! For the love of god!”

The man’s cursing startled you from your daydreams, the impact of his shout causing you to drop the shirt you were holding. Even through your alarm, you found yourself thinking that he had a nice voice - even when he was yelling obscenities. You wondered how it would sound when he paid compliments, when he rambled about something he cared about, when poetry tumbled from his lips.

“Hey,” you called to him across the room, with all the bravery you could muster. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he confirmed, although this clearly wasn’t the case. “I just can’t get this damn stain out.”

“Hm. What’s the stain?”

He lifted the shirt higher so that you could see it. A white t-shirt - well, you assumed it was once white. The condition of the fabric, when he pulled it from the washing machine, was a little less than ideal. A rusty stain covered the expanse of the material, red and brown. The man was far from happy - you could tell this wasn’t his first time battling this particular stain.

“Would you believe me if I said it’s ketchup?” he asked with a wry smirk. You couldn’t help but smile back at him - his sarcastic amusement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but feel that this was a frequent exchange for him. Not so much the laundry situation, but the smirk, making warmth blossom in the heart of a complete stranger.

You nodded. “Got it, no questions asked. Have you tried running a cold cycle? And do you wanna borrow some stain remover?”

“You’re a lifesaver,” he praised you. “Or at the very least, a shirt-saver.” You laughed at this; you wouldn’t have expected him to be so dorky. Or, upon reconsideration, maybe it was obvious. From the way his eyes glinted in the light. You swiftly closed your own machine, setting off the cycle, before gathering your equipment, your clothes-washing tools, and taking them over to the man.

“Here,” you said, taking the shirt from him and squirting the remover onto it. You walked him through the steps, rubbing the substance into the material before tossing it back into the machine and running a cold cycle.

“I’m Jungwoo, by the way. Apartment 127.” He held his hand out, and you shook it. Jungwoo, you thought, running his name through your mind. You wondered how it might taste, through laughter or in the dark.

“[Name]. Apartment 129.”

“No way,” he remarked. “We’re so close together - how haven’t we bumped into each other? Before recently, I mean.” It made you feel strangely special, the way he acknowledged your recent encounters with each other. Though you’d never spoken, he recognised you. He’d noticed you.

You shrugged nonchalantly. “I don’t know. Well, actually - I just moved to the night shift.”

“That’ll be it,” he confirmed. “I’m a creature of the night, mainly.”

“Well, I’m gonna go. I have… stuff to do.” His pause intrigued you, but you let it slip. Jungwoo tapped the sign on the wall beside him, reading DO NOT LEAVE LAUNDRY UNATTENDED. “I won’t tell if you won’t. See you around, [Name].” With a wink, and a smile, he was gone.

*

Now that you had a name to the face, a voice to the man, a sliver of personality to the otherwise unknown figure, Jungwoo seemed to occupy your thoughts a lot more in the coming week. Hard as you tried to curb these thoughts - you barely knew the man, after all - but whenever you left your apartment, particularly when it was any later than 11pm, you found yourself looking for him. You scanned the hallways, crossed your fingers when the elevator doors opened, kept an eye on the door of apartment 127. It was all to no avail, however. You didn’t see Jungwoo once in the week following.

You’d almost given up hope entirely, or perhaps you were so weary and exhausted from your shift that even Jungwoo was far from your thoughts, which were solely focused on your warm, comfortable bed that you couldn’t wait to fall into. Birds were chattering away to one another, and you sincerely believed you’d never get used to falling asleep at seven in the morning. As you were scanning your way into the building, passing your key fob over the sensor, you noticed a figure behind you, in your reflection. The person was tall, though their identity was hidden by their hood, and fear flashed through you.

You really hoped this wasn't one of those horror stories - where a strange man gains entry to an apartment building where he doesn't belong, only to murder its inhabitants. You glanced backwards before you pulled the door open, only for your fear to lessen and your concern-slash-confusion to raise.

"Jungwoo?" you asked, peering at him. He was clearly trying to hide himself, but you knew it was him. You unrecognised his lips, and hoped that wasn't creepy, but what deterred you was the swelling around the left side of his jaw. "Are you okay?"

"Hey, [Name]. I'm fine." He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but winced as the action twinged his swollen features.

"You don't seem too fine," you commented, trying to peer at the rest of his face, under his hood.

"I've had worse," he shrugged, wincing again. "Look, can we go inside?"

You frowned, pulling open your apartment door before ushering him inside and pulling down his hood, acting fast and catching him unaware, only to gasp at the state of his face. Along with his swollen jaw was a black eye, and a gash across his forehead that had recently ceased its bleeding, judging by the dark, dried blood around the site of injury

"Oh my god, Jungwoo, what happened?"

"Listen, I said it's fine-"

"Come on, let me patch you up." You grasped his arm, marching him towards the elevator, and he got the message that his protesting was worthless and you wouldn't be taking no for an answer. Once in your apartment, you pulled a chair out from your kitchen table and pushed Jungwoo firmly down onto it, before digging the first aid kit out of your cupboard.

Jungwoo was silent through the whole affair, and you sensed that some of this was surprise. It didn't seem like he was used to this - being taken charge of, that was. He seemed like the type of guy who took charge of everything and everyone he encountered. Well, you supposed, he had met his match.

He was a good patient, and only flinched once, when you brushed his wounds with an antibacterial wipe. Finished your cleaning and bandaging, you leaned back against your kitchen counter, eyeing the man up. He said nothing, simply looking back at you with an undetectable look on his face. His lips were set in a straight line, though his eyes were soft.

“Do you want a drink?” you asked him eventually, breaking the silence. “I have decaf coffee, tea, hot cocoa-”

“Hot cocoa, please!” Jungwoo interrupted, looking excited all of a sudden, despite his injuries. You nodded, and went to prepare two hot cocoas. Silence fell again, and it was a strangely comfortable silence considering you were near-strangers.

“So,” you spoke after a few moments, “I know I said I wouldn't ask questions. But I did just fix your face, so I think you kinda owe me a little explanation.”

“Hey, hey. This face? Could never need fixing. You can’t fix perfection.”

You gave him a look. “You’re avoiding the subject, Jungwoo.”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I’m a street racer.”

You paused for a few beats, looking at him. Searching his face for any sign of amusement, waiting for a gotcha!

It didn’t come. “A street racer?”

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. He sounded genuine. You were left wondering whether he was, in fact, a street racer… or a pathological liar.

“You don’t look like a street racer,” was all you said, as you handed him his cocoa. He took a sip.

“Then, what do I look like?” he questioned. A model, you thought. Outwardly, however, you simply shrugged, and tried to hide your blush by taking a sip of your drink. “You can come see me in action if you want, baby. I’m racing again tomorrow night, midnight.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Follow a mysterious man, who I’ve found covered in blood on two separate occasions? Come on. Even to you, that must sound a little shifty.”

Jungwoo shrugged. “You’re the one who invited me into your home, baby.”

You sighed -  you couldn’t really fight him on that one. You wrapped your hands around your mug tightly. “I don’t know anything about you, Jungwoo. I don’t even know your last name-”

“Kim,” he interrupted. “Kim Jungwoo.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. Well I know your last name, now. But still. How do I know you’re even telling the truth?”

Jungwoo smiled, his lips twisting upwards in the corners in the most endearing way possible. He looked into your eyes. “[Name]. Darling. Why would I lie?”

You give him a cynical look. “Really, Jungwoo? There are some serious creeps out there. Creeps who tell many different lies for many different reasons. And none of them are good reasons.”

“Just trust me, okay? Take a leap of faith.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Most creeps weren’t this pretty. “A leap right into my arms,” he continued, stretching his arms wide as an invitation.

Snorting out a laugh, you delivered a shove to his shoulder. Gently - you didn’t know the extent of his injuries. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Midnight, right?”

“Midnight,” he confirmed. He smiled at you, in a way that you couldn’t help but smile back. “See you then.”

With that, he was gone, leaving you alone in your kitchen once more. Jungwoo always seemed to come and go, much like a tornado, leaving you shell-shocked and windswept in his wake. Street racing, hm? You shook your head to yourself. Just what were you getting yourself into?

*

As you didn't have a car, you didn't tend to visit your building's underground parking lot often. If you did, you were sure you would've noticed Jungwoo's car before. Cars didn't typically stand out to you - you weren't a car person. But even you had to admit, there was something impressive about the vehicle.

It sat low to the ground, vintage-looking, stark black with two contrasting white stripes running across the middle. You didn't know they still made cars like that; maybe they didn't, you considered. You found yourself wondering how it sounded when the engine ran, how it looked when Jungwoo sped down city streets inside it. You noted the sizable dent on the front bumper, and wondered just how bad his crash had been the previous night. Apparently not big enough to deter him, seeing that he got right back into the game, but perhaps that said more about Jungwoo than the size of the crash.

"What do you think?" Jungwoo asked, his smirk audible in his voice. This thing was clearly his pride and joy.

"I like it," you admitted honestly. It's cute, you tacked on, mentally. Though it was an honest compliment, you weren't sure it would go down well if you voiced it.

You smiled when Jungwoo opened the passenger-side door for you. It was nice learning things about him - he was a gentleman, you noted, someone who believed in chivalry.

"You aren't gonna speed with me in the car, right?" you asked as he settled into the driver's seat, only half joking.

He shook his head. "I put myself at risk when I drive. I wouldn't do the same to you, [Name]." You said nothing, but felt your heart swell.

“It’s just a twenty-minute drive, baby. This kinda stuff has to take place on the outskirts of the city.”

“Hey,” you remarked, your tone surprised, curious, but not hostile. “Why do you keep calling me baby?”

Jungwoo paused for a moment. He didn’t seem to have the answer any more than you did. “I don’t call everyone ‘baby’ y’know. I’m not one of those guys,” he noted your sceptical look, “Really.” He trained his gaze back towards the road, eyes pointed forwards. “Something about you… I don’t know, [Name]. I just have to call you baby.”

You’d be lying if you said your heart didn’t flutter wildly at that. You pulled your scarf up to hide the blush that flooded your cheeks. You'd spent far longer than you'd like to admit picking out your outfit. You weren't entirely sure what type of person he was yet, nor the crowd he raced with. Not that you were trying to impress anybody - that wasn't you, that wasn't what you did. You just didn't want to stand out too much.

The weather was warming but the nights were still cool. You'd gone for a light jacket, paired with your favourite scarf. Enough to keep you warm, but not so much that you were completely bundled up.

"This isn't a big race, by the way," Jungwoo shared. "I'm sorry I can't show you something more impressive."

"That's okay," you told him, and it was the truth. You were happy to be invited here regardless. "I've never seen street racing before, so I guess I'll be impressed by anything."

Jungwoo snickered. "You're cute."

The city lights passed by in red and white streaks, and you felt dazzled. Before long, Jungwoo was pulling into a parking lot on the outskirts of the city. It had a strange feel to it; you knew that, by day, this place was probably rather abandoned, seeing activity levels of zero, most days. But now, just after midnight, there was a thrum of energy, small as it were.

Streetlights shone onto the lot, revealing one other car, its door open. One figure stood beside the car, another sitting in the passenger's seat.

Jungwoo put the car in park, but paused and turned to you before getting out. "Hey, if you wanna go home at any point, just let me know. I'm your ride 'n stuff, so…"

You nodded. "Thanks."

"And, by the way, if you get scared, you can always hold your hand."

You scoffed. "Sure. You wish."

Jungwoo winked at you, and opened his door to climb out. "Maybe I do wish that," he murmured before swiftly moving on, not giving you enough time to react. "The door sticks, I'll come open it for you."

Jungwoo was flirty. But you didn't know what he was after. You didn't know how genuine he was. Sure, he'd invited you out here to watch him race with his friends, but how did you know he wasn't just doing it to get laid? Were you the first person he'd brought here? The second? The tenth?

You found yourself flustered as you looked up at him, climbing out of the car. You really had to stop overthinking every interaction between you two. You left the car and approached the other, sticking close to Jungwoo's side.

"Jungwoo," greeted the standing man with an inclination of his head, a happy grin on his face.

"Hey guys," Jungwoo grinned at the boys. "This is [Name], like I said."

"Hi," you waved politely.

"This is Yukhei and Sicheng," he indicated to his friends. You found yourself wondering, Are all street racers this beautiful?

Yukhei was tall, an overgrown golden retriever of a man, with kind eyes and tousled hair. His beauty was a warm and welcoming one, and you couldn't help but feel favourably towards him right away. Sicheng, sitting in the car, had a more elegant, delicate beauty, a slight smile and a curious gaze; something about him intrigued you. You weren't sure what you'd expected of a group of street racers, but this wasn't it.

"Let's get into it," Jungwoo declared, sounding fired up. His excitement was electric, you felt it in the air.

"Move it, babe," Yukhei instructed Sicheng, who left the car with a roll of his eyes.

"Look after [Name] for me, Sicheng," Jungwoo called out before getting back in his car.

"I'm sure [Name] can look after themselves," Sicheng responded, before turning to you. "You might want to step back for this, though."

You complied wordlessly, taking a few steps backwards. Jungwoo and Yukhei lined up their respective cars, revving their engines a little more ferocity than necessary. Sicheng stood in front of them, a piece of fabric in his hand that looked like a bandana. He raised it in the air. The tension was thick, anticipation weighing on your shoulders. Sicheng lowered the bandana, and in an instant the cars were gone, leaving behind a cloud of dust which you braced yourself against.

And then… silence. It felt a little anticlimactic, but it made sense when you thought about it; the boys were racing through a concrete jungle, obviously you couldn't observe the whole course. Sicheng let out a huge breath, a cathartic sigh. You realised that your own adrenaline was running high, and imagined that Sicheng's must be even higher, since the cars had rushed right past him, impossibly close.

"That's that," he commented, smiling at you. He came to stand beside you, and you watched as he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, pulling out a flask. "Cocoa," he said, before taking a swig. "Want some?"

You took it happily, enjoying the warmth that the sip instilled deep inside you. The night was a bit colder than you expected.

"So, you're Yukhei's-" the word boyfriend was on the tip of your tongue, but Sicheng interrupted before it could come out.

"No, no. We're just friends - he's my best friend. He's like a brother to me."

You nodded in understanding. "And you don't race?"

"Only idiots race," he said sagely, and you trusted his judgement; if the people he was closest to races, he would surely be an expert.

"I'll keep that in mind." You accepted the cocoa flask, when he offered it to you again.

"So, how do you know Jungwoo? He was very vague when he said he was bringing someone."

Your initial response, mentally, was I don't know him, not really. Although, you waved it away. It didn't feel true. "He's my neighbour. We haven't known each other long."

"He must like you," Sicheng remarked offhandedly.

"Well, I don't know about that," you denied, skeptical.

"He wouldn't have brought you here if you weren't special. This whole thing, the racing, it's all underground. You can get into a lot of trouble when you're caught."

You thought this over. Special. Of course, this was Sicheng's word, not Jungwoo's, but you wanted it to be true. It seemed more and more likely, the longer you dwelled on it; and you certainly had spent some time dwelling on it. He must've seen something in you, to invite you here. Maybe more than just bed-material. Maybe.

Minutes later, the two cars returned to the parking lot, almost side by side.

“I won that, for sure!” Yukhei yelled out of his open window.

“Yeah, for once,” Jungwoo contended. “C’mon, you’re showing me up in front of [Name]. They’re gonna think I’m a bad racer.”

“You’ll get it next time, Jungwoo,” you cheered him on with a smile.

Jungwoo and Yukhei raced a few more times, while you and Sicheng drank hot cocoa and cheered them on. You couldn’t explain why, but you felt more and more enthusiastic each time Jungwoo returned; you really got into the spirit of things. Jungwoo seemed to be the clear victor; he had won four races while Yukhei had only won one.

"Should we call it a night?" Jungwoo asked. "I'm starving." You had to admit, you were getting pretty hungry too. Upon checking your phone, you realised that a few hours had passed. You were so consumed in the excitement, in keeping score for Jungwoo, that you'd barely realised time was passing.

"I was thinking the same thing," Yukhei agreed. "We going to Aeja's?"

Jungwoo turned to you. "Are you up for that, [Name]?"

"Aeja's?"

"Aeja's diner," he elaborated. "The best apple pie you've ever tasted. Are you hungry? I can take you home, if you want."

Your stomach rumbled, as if answering the question for you, and you chuckled. "I'm famished."

You found yourself smiling when you got back into the car with Jungwoo. His presence was warm, and it felt good to be sitting next to him again.

“Are you having fun tonight?” Jungwoo asked you as he pulled out of the parking lot, following Yukhei’s car. “Sorry we haven’t really got to hang out yet. It can be kinda boring, watching people race.”

“No, I’m having fun,” you told him honestly. “This is exciting, and Sicheng’s been keeping me company; he seems nice.”

“I hope we can spend some more time together, [Name],” Jungwoo said, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to look at you. “We should hang out again.”

“I’d like that,” you replied honestly.

The tinkle of the bell above the door was a light, welcoming sound when you stepped into the diner. It was a nice place, and though you'd never been there before, it somehow instilled a sense of warm nostalgia within you. Hardwood floors, neon lights, cracked red leather booths. It was like something out of a movie. It was empty, save for a bored-looking waiter behind the counter.

"You guys again? Really?" he drawled, but there was a teasing expression on his face. He had an angular jaw, chocolate-brown hair in a low ponytail, and a nametag reading Yuta.

"Hush. We keep you in business," shot back Sicheng, as the four of you found your seats in a booth.

"You're right," the waiter - Yuta - conceded. "Manager's talking about shutting this place up at 10 every night." He came around the counter, joining you at your table.

"Don't you dare," threatened Yukhei, sounding deeply devastated at the prospect of new opening hours.

"It's not up to me, bro," Yuta raised his hands in surrender, seeming amused.

"I need this place," Yukhei iterated.

"Yeah, yeah. What do you want?" Yuta pulled a notebook and pencil from the pocket in his apron, ready to take your orders.

Jungwoo, Yukhei and Sicheng all knew what they wanted immediately, being regulars at the diner, so you just followed Jungwoo’s lead and ordered a burger and fries, with a milkshake.

Yukhei folded his arms onto the table, leaning towards you. “So. Did Jungwoo tell you about the big race?”

You looked to Jungwoo in question. “Big race?”

Jungwoo nodded in confirmation. “In a few weeks. That’s what we’re practicing for right now.”

“Million won prize,” Yukhei interjected.

Your eyes widened in surprise. “A million? Where does the money even come from?”

“Gambling, mostly,” Jungwoo explained. “A lot of people bet on the organised races.”

“Your Jungwoo’s the favourite for this upcoming race - three to one.”

You dismissed Yukhei’s remark of your Jungwoo, instead focusing on his claim of Jungwoo’s capability. “Woah, really?” He looked bashful when he met your gaze, and you had to admire the fact that he hadn’t bragged about this to you; you’d met far too many boys who boasted and gloated about their many triumphs, talking themselves up in a completely unnecessary and unlikable way. Jungwoo wasn’t one of these boys, it seemed.

“It’s not like this is a huge race,” he explained. “I only stand out locally. Plus, I have some pretty strong competition in this guy Jaehyun.”

“This is so crazy,” you expressed. “This whole street racing thing, I mean. It’s all been happening right under my nose and I had no idea. I didn’t even know it existed, really. I kind of thought it was just a movie thing.”

“It’s very real, baby,” Jungwoo assured you. You had to admit, you weren’t at all mad about the pet name he’d assigned to you; your heart fluttered each time the word passed his lips.

Yuta returned with your food, and you all tucked in. The boys hadn’t been exaggerating about the quality of this place - the fries were heavenly, the burger not too greasy.

“You know what they say about street racing, right?” Sicheng asked you, and you looked at him inquisitively. “Street racing started when they made the second car.” You smiled at the charming proverb.

“Drive fast and leave a sexy corpse, that’s my motto,” Yukhei said, around a mouthful of burger. Jungwoo snorted out a laugh, and Sicheng rolled his eyes though he was clearly amused. You caught Jungwoo’s gaze, and your own laughter doubled. There was a certain happiness that erupted within you, whenever you made eye contact with the boy.

You had to admit, this night was the most fun you’d had in a long time. You hadn’t met up with any friends in a while, now that you were a night owl, and you appreciated the way these three boys accepted you into their circle.

*

It was almost instantaneous, the switch in your life from loner to social butterfly. You began spending your nights with Jungwoo, Yukhei, and Sicheng, either racing, hanging in the diner, or otherwise exploring the city. You and Jungwoo had grown close, faster than you would’ve expected. He set off fireworks in your heart, stars erupting whenever you closed your eyes.

“What did you do before I came along?” you asked Sicheng as he poured you a cup of hot cocoa, in the parking lot that had grown incredibly familiar. “This must be so boring on your own.”

“I didn’t come to watch them race often,” Sicheng said. “I come to the big races, and we hang out a lot anyways - it’s not easy to find other people who are pretty much nocturnal. But Jungwoo asked me to come along to keep you company that first night.”

You hummed in acknowledgement. You supposed this was a new routine for more than just you.

“Oh, shit,” Sicheng muttered suddenly, looking past you. You turned to see red flashing lights, a police car cruising by silently.

“That’s bad, right?” you asked Sicheng, your heart spiking with nerves.

“It’s not good,” he confirmed, grimacing.

“What’ll happen if they’re caught?”

“They’ll probably get taken down to the station,” he explained. “After that, who knows.” Sicheng seemed worried, going by the tense look on his face, and his agitation was contagious. A sense of panic began to set in, and you chewed your lip anxiously.

“If they realise cops are patrolling before they’re caught, they should manage to get away okay,” he said, and you nodded in understanding.

After a few minutes, a few tense and painful minutes, a car rolled into a parking lot - Yukhei’s. He drove to you and Sicheng, parking up and climbing out.

“Where’s Jungwoo?” were the first words that passed your lips, urgent and hurried.

“Hiding out, I hope,” Yukhei responded, running a hand through his hair. “Fucking cop car, patrolling. We split when we saw it.”

Your worries weren’t eased in the slightest. “I’ll try texting him.” When you pulled your phone out of your pocket, you realised your hands were shaking.

Are you okay??? you tapped out, as quickly as you could. Moments passed. “He’s not replying,” you exhaled.

“Don’t worry, okay? It could mean he’s on the road, driving back here,” Yukhei said.

“It could also mean he’s been caught,” Sicheng mentioned. You saw Yukhei shoot him a look that said not helping.

Yukhei patted you on the shoulder. “Jungwoo’s survived much closer calls than this, alright? He’s tough. He’ll be fine.”

Though it felt like hours had passed, it had only been eight minutes, and you knew this precisely as you’d been checking your phone for messages the whole time. When the hum of Jungwoo’s engine neared, and he arrived at the parking lot, you audibly gasped. He jumped out of his car, and the sight of him, unscathed, brought relief that was almost overwhelming. You ran to him, hugging him tightly.

“Hey, hey, I’m alright. It’s okay,” Jungwoo reassured you with a surprised laugh, wrapping his arms around you. You pulled away, feeling shy all of a sudden, though Jungwoo kept a hold on you, arm wrapped around your waist.

“You think there was a leak?” Jungwoo asked.

“Maybe,” Yukhei responded with a shrug.

“A leak?” you asked. “What do you mean?”

“The police may have gotten word that there’s a race planned here. They don’t usually patrol this area,” Jungwoo explained, still holding you close.

“That’s what makes it a perfect racing spot,” Yukhei added. “No speed cameras, no police.”

Jungwoo sighed. “Let’s just call it quits for tonight, yeah? I’ll talk to Johnny tomorrow, see what he knows.”

“Sounds like a good idea,” Yukhei agreed. “Let me know if you hear anything.”

“C’mon, baby,” Jungwoo said, ushering you to his car.

The ride home was strangely silent. You didn’t think it had ever been this quiet between the two of you, not since your laundry room days. When Jungwoo parked up in the garage, he paused before getting out of the car, turning to you.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing a comforting hand on your knee. “You okay?” You simply nodded, eyes trained on your lap. “Look at me,” he said, and you did. His eyes were wide, genuine concern evident in his expression.

“I was really worried about you tonight,” you explained, and he smiled.

“I know,” he said gently. “That’s not something I’m used to, y’know? There usually isn’t anyone to worry about me like this.” His voice didn’t call for pity. If anything, he sounded amused by your outburst.

“I don’t know what came over me. I was terrified for you, Jungwoo.”

His smile turned into more of a smirk. “Maybe you just care about me, baby.”

“I do. I really do.” Your heart was racing, pounding at an alarming rate. Looking at Jungwoo, this hurricane of a man who had stormed his way into your life, you felt something you couldn’t explain. You wanted to be close to him, to stay close to him forever. When he slowly leaned in, you closed your eyes and waited for his lips to find yours.

They were soft - softer than you would’ve expected. His touch was light as a feather when he cupped your cheek. Your hands went to him automatically, settling on his body as though they were always supposed to be there; your left landing on his shoulder, your right flat on his chest. Jungwoo deepened the kiss without hesitation, sliding his tongue past your lips and using it expertly. A small moan emerged from within you, and Jungwoo pulled away before things got any more intense. You were left panting slightly, adrenaline coursing through you.

“I care about you too, for the record,” Jungwoo stated, and you smiled, shaking your head in amusement.

“Do you want to come to my apartment?” you invited him.

“I’d love to.”

*

You awoke as the sun was setting, golden rays filtering through your curtains. You blinked yourself awake, eyes adjusting to the room. Jungwoo was sitting at the edge of your bed, scrolling through his phone. You smiled to yourself, admiring his frame, the wide expanse of his shoulders. You noticed his eyebrows tied together, frustration etched into his features, and wondered just what he was looking at.

“Morning,” you greeted him sleepily, before amending, “Evening.”

“Hey, baby,” he replied, expression softening into a kind smile once he saw that you were awake. “You sleep well?”

You nodded. “Everything okay?”

Jungwoo laughed, a stressed chuckle, as he ran his hand through his hair. “One of our message boards was infiltrated - everything’s coded, but we can’t take any risks, especially not after last night. We’re gonna have to change the location of the race.”

“Oh no,” you said with a frown, moving to sit beside him. He lifted his arm, and you cuddled into his side, savoring his warmth. You tried hard not to smile to yourself, given Jungwoo’s unfortunate situation. You hadn’t realised just how much you’d craved his touch until you got it, and now you’d gotten a taste, you never wanted to let go.

Jungwoo groaned. “This is gonna throw me off, big-time.”

“But it’ll throw everyone else off, too. That could be a bonus,” you pointed out.

“You’re right,” he agreed, planting a kiss on the top of your head. “Plus, I have you now. My good luck charm.”

You smiled into the warm skin of his bare chest. This was a big obstacle, very close to the race. But, even with your very limited knowledge on the subject, Jungwoo seemed like a very competent racer. You knew he’d push through this.

*

The boys hadn't been exaggerating about the sheer energy these big races brought. There was an electricity in the air, and you felt inexplicably giddy, as though all your hairs were standing on end.

Floodlights shone down on the parking lot - not the one you'd been visiting, unfortunately, but a revised location on the other side of the city. The place was swarming, a whole crowd of people packed into the lot. Around fifty, if you had to estimate. Drinking, laughing, preparing. You didn't know what you'd expected, in terms of demographics, but you were surprised. People from all walks of life were here; punks with brightly coloured mohawks, men who wouldn't look out of place as lawyers or accountants, some of the most beautiful women you'd ever seen. It seemed that the art of street racing was seductive to all types of people.

You clutched Jungwoo's hand as you looked out at everyone, standing beside his trusty car. You knew he was nervous, but he didn't show it. He smiled down at you, giving your hand a squeeze.

"You're gonna do amazing," you reassured him, planting a kiss on his cheek.

"I know," he said, hints of a smirk on his lips. He looked past you suddenly, scowling. "Who let you in here?"

You turned to see a man approaching, a smug look plastered on his face. He was tall, as tall as Jungwoo, and handsome. Though his charm was different to Jungwoo’s; where Jungwoo was pretty, puppy-dog eyes and a bright smile, Jaehyun was angular, cocky grin and dark eyes.

“Could ask the same about you,” he shot back. “You ready to get your ass kicked?”

Jungwoo sighed, shaking his head with a smile. “Don’t try to trash talk me, Jaehyun. It’s embarrassing.”

“I’m not gonna be the one who’s embarrassed, Kim,” Jaehyun denied. “See you out there.”

“You won’t see me, man,” Jungwoo called out to him as he walked away. “You’ll be left behind in my dust.” Jaehyun failed to reply, only shooting Jungwoo the middle finger behind his back. Jungwoo snorted in laughter.

“So, that’s Jaehyun?” you asked. You’d heard about him, from Jungwoo and the others. He was one of the only racers who was on Jungwoo’s level, his biggest competitor. He’d won the last race, and Jungwoo was determined to take back the crown.

“Yeah, that’s him,” Jungwoo nodded. “Nasty piece of work, right?”

“Yeah, awful,” you agreed with a laugh - it wasn’t serious. The two of them were rivals, that much was evident, but you sensed a great deal of respect between them, without a doubt. They challenged each other, pushed each other to be better, and it seemed that they appreciated each other for that.

An air horn sounded suddenly, and you grasped Jungwoo’s hand a little tighter in surprise. He grinned at you, and you laughed as your cheeks heated. You were just so excited, so worked up, that it made you jumpy. “That’s the signal, babe,” Jungwoo explained. “Kiss for good luck?” You complied, giving him one last lingering kiss.

You reconvened with Sicheng, watching as Jungwoo and Yukhei got in their cars and drove towards the starting line. There were six cars, in total, with Jungwoo, Yukhei, and Jaehyun accounting for three of them. Yukhei’s nimble red car stood out among the bunch; Jaehyun’s was a deep blue, bigger than Yukhei or Jungwoo’s; however Jungwoo’s was certainly the most impressive of the bunch, with her stark white stripes. You could have been biased, though.

Your heart was pounding. With nerves, with excitement, possibly even a bit of fear. This was racing - real racing. You knew how dangerous it could get. After all, you’d fixed up Jungwoo’s injuries yourself. And, really, he was lucky to get away that lightly.

The parking lot was near silent as the cars lined up. You and Sicheng stood, a few metres away from the line of cars. You looked at Jungwoo, through his windshield. There was a look on his face, determined and excited, that made your heart flutter.

You’d never felt a silence so heavy, never heard a silence so loud. It was as though every single person was holding their breath. The tension sunk its sharp, jagged teeth into your skin, and you dug your nails into your palm.

“On your marks,” boomed a voice, amplified by a megaphone.

“Get set.” Engines revved.

“Go!”

Almost the instant the word had been uttered, the cars had sped off, leaving no trace behind. The crowd erupted, whooping and cheering. Sicheng pulled you into a hug, and you laughed as you held him close. There was a certain high that came from this, an adrenaline rush. You could barely even imagine how Jungwoo must be feeling, flying down the streets at lightning speed.

“You look nervous,” Sicheng commented, the corner of his mouth lifting. You gave him a small smile in response. “Jungwoo knows what he’s doing,” he reassured you, and you nodded. This felt so reminiscent of the times you’d spent with Sicheng, waiting for Jungwoo and Yukhei to finish racing, drinking hot cocoa and laughing together. Though it also felt wildly different. There was something riding on this race; Jungwoo’s pride and a lot of money. Your heart was pounding. A month ago you’d never spared a thought for street racing, and now? You’d give anything for one man to win this race.

The race was a little longer than what Jungwoo and Yukhei had been practicing - or maybe it only felt that way because you were sitting on the edge of your metaphorical seat. You could hear them, in the distance. An unmistakable low rumbling, thrumming through the asphalt. It grew louder, the cars drew nearer. You reached for Sicheng’s hand, clutching it tightly as butterflies raged in your stomach. You stepped forwards, peering down the street. You saw the headlights in the distance, as they turned onto the stretch of road. Sicheng gripped your shoulder, pulling you back gently from harm’s way, and you chuckled, a little embarrassed at your anxious enthusiasm.

You didn’t think you’d ever seen cars move that fast - in fact, you didn’t think you’d ever seen anything move that fast. You barely had time to blink, as Jungwoo and Jaehyun’s vehicles, a blur of black and navy, raced ahead of the others, appearing in front of you within an instant.

A screech, a deafening crashing sound, and a hoard of gasps met your ears all at once. If it weren’t for Sicheng’s grasp on your hand, you would’ve ran directly into the line of oncoming cars. “Jungwoo!” you heard yourself cry out, and although it was your voice, it sounded distant, far away.

“Hey, hey, [Name],” Sicheng said, pulling you closer to him. “He’s okay, Jungwoo’s okay.” His words were meant to soothe you, but his voice was still tinged with worry. You blinked, looking out at the scene in front of you.

The other cars whizzed by, driving past the wreck that Jaehyun’s car had become. Jungwoo had been the clear winner, as Jaehyun’s car had skidded off-course just a short distance from the finish line. The bumper had been dented, the metal crumpling as though it were paper. You watched as Jaehyun stumbled out of the driver’s side, mostly unscathed. A group of people ran to him, now that the cars had stopped flying by, carrying first aid kits, but you paid them no attention. You shrugged free of Sicheng’s grasp, running to where Jungwoo had stopped.

You caught sight of his car, dented along one side, and tears sprang to your eyes. Jungwoo climbed out when he saw you coming, and you held him at arm's length, looking over him frantically. “Are you okay?” you asked, your voice barely rising above a whisper.

“Baby, baby, I’m fine,” Jungwoo breathed, pulling you into a hug.

“Jaehyun,” you uttered. “He-”

Jungwoo pulled back, kissing your forehead. “He’s okay,” he assured you. You followed his gaze to Jaehyun, whose forehead was being wiped by a makeshift medic. He gave the two of you a thumbs up, and Jungwoo waved back.

“You won,” you stated, looking back to Jungwoo.

“Yeah,” Jungwoo laughed. “I guess I did.”

“You don’t sound very happy,” you pointed out, caressing his cheek lightly.

“It doesn’t feel right - I feel like I’ve won unlawfully, y’know? I only won cause Jaehyun crashed-”

“Maybe, but you don’t know that for sure,” you told him. “You won, and that’s that.” Jungwoo sighed, and you kissed him.

An air horn sounded, and you jumped yet again. Jungwoo laughed. “That’s for me, babe.”

“And the winner is Kim Jungwoo,” called out the voice, crackly through the megaphone. Jungwoo raised his hands in victory, as a scatter of applause rang out for him.

“A million won, huh?” you said. “What you gonna spend it on?”

“Fixing up my car, probably,” he sighed, looking back at the dent in his vehicle. “And I might take my baby on vacation.”

"Jungwoo?" you asked, peering at him. He was clearly trying to hide himself, but you knew it was him. You unrecognised his lips, and hoped that wasn't creepy, but what deterred you was the swelling around the left side of his jaw. "Are you okay?"

"Hey, Y/N. I'm fine." He tried to give you a reassuring smile, but winced as the action twinged his swollen features. 

"You don't seem too fine," you commented, trying to peer at the rest of his face, under his hood. 

"I've had worse," he shrugged, wincing again. "Look, can we go inside?"

You frowned, pulling open your apartment door before ushering him inside and pulling down his hood, acting fast and catching him unaware, only to gasp at the state of his face. Along with his swollen jaw was a black eye, and a gash across his forehead that had recently ceased its bleeding, judging by the dark, dried blood around the site of injury 

"Oh my god, Jungwoo, what happened?"

"Listen, I said it's fine-"

"Come on, let me patch you up." You grasped his arm, marching him towards the elevator, and he got the message that his protesting was worthless and you wouldn't be taking no for an answer. Once in your apartment, you pulled a chair out from your kitchen table and pushed Jungwoo firmly down onto it, before digging the first aid kit out of your cupboard. 

Jungwoo was silent through the whole affair, and you sensed that some of this was surprise. It didn't seem like he was used to this - being taken charge of, that was. He seemed like the type of guy who took charge of everything and everyone he encountered. Well, you supposed, he had met his match.

He was a good patient, and only flinched once, when you brushed his wounds with an antibacterial wipe. Finished your cleaning and bandaging, you leaned back against your kitchen counter, eyeing the man up. He said nothing, simply looking back at you with an undetectable look on his face. His lips were set in a straight line, though his eyes were soft.

“Do you want a drink?” you asked him eventually, breaking the silence. “I have decaf coffee, tea, hot cocoa-”

“Hot cocoa, please!” Jungwoo interrupted, looking excited all of a sudden, despite his injuries. You nodded, and went to prepare two hot cocoas. Silence fell again, and it was a strangely comfortable silence considering you were near-strangers.

“So,” you spoke after a few moments, “I know I said I wouldn't ask questions. But I did just fix your face, so I think you kinda owe me a little explanation.”

“Hey, hey. This face? Could never need fixing. You can’t fix perfection.”

You gave him a look. “You’re avoiding the subject, Jungwoo.”

“Alright, alright,” he raised his hands in surrender. “I’m a street racer.”

You paused for a few beats, looking at him. Searching his face for any sign of amusement, waiting for a gotcha! 

It didn’t come. “A street racer?”

“You don’t believe me?” he asked. He sounded genuine enough. You were left wondering whether he was, in fact, a street racer… or a pathological liar.

“You don’t look like a street racer,” was all you said, as you handed him his cocoa. He took a sip.

“Then, what do I look like?” he questioned. A model, you thought. Outwardly, however, you simply shrugged, and tried to hide your blush by taking a sip of your drink, which was far too hot. “You can come see me in action if you want, baby. I’m racing again tomorrow night, midnight.”

You raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Follow a mysterious man, who I’ve found covered in blood on two separate occasions? Come on. Even to you, that must sound a little shifty.”

Jungwoo shrugged. “You’re the one who invited me into your home, babe."

You sighed -  you couldn’t really fight him on that one. You wrapped your hands around your mug tightly. “I don’t know anything about you, Jungwoo. I don’t even know your last name-”

“Kim,” he interrupted. “Kim Jungwoo.”

You roll your eyes. “Fine. Well I know your last name, now. But still. How do I know you’re even telling the truth?”

Jungwoo smiled, his lips twisting upwards in the corners in the most endearing way possible. He looked into your eyes. “Y/N. Darling. Why would I lie?”

You give him a cynical look. “Really, Jungwoo? There are some serious creeps out there. Creeps who tell many different lies for many different reasons. And none of them are good reasons.”

“Just trust me, okay? Take a leap of faith.” You raised an eyebrow at him. Most creeps weren’t this pretty. “A leap right into my arms,” he continued, stretching his arms wide as an invitation.

Snorting out a laugh, you delivered a shove to his shoulder. Gently - you didn’t know the extent of his injuries. “I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt. Midnight, right?”

“Midnight,” he confirmed. He smiled at you, in a way that you couldn’t help but smile back. “See you then.” 

“Is it raining where you are?” you asked Sungchan, through the phone. You were sitting by your windowsill, watching the rain pour from the skies. It was a grey day, in all aspects of the word, and it matched your mood perfectly.

“No,” he said, and the response hit you harder than it probably should’ve. You sighed, and it would’ve been impossible for Sungchan to miss it, but he didn’t say anything.

You were proud of Sungchan - that went without saying. Though it wasn’t long since he debuted, he was receiving praise from left and right, and he was soaring just as high as you knew he would. It wasn’t easy for him, though; he had to work hard. He get much free time, which meant he didn’t have much time for you. And the distance didn’t help.

“I miss you,” you told him, chewing on your lip.

“I miss you, too,” he returned, although you rolled your eyes at his statement. He didn’t have time to miss you; he hardly had time to think about you, even.

Silence, again, on the phone line. This treasured time, of which you had very little these days, wasting away while the two of you sat separately, in separate quiets. 

“I hope you’re taking care of yourself,” you spoke, after a while. “Eating well, drinking plenty.”

“I am,” was all he said. You heard voices in the background, loud and boisterous. His life was so much more eventful than yours now. Why would he want to waste his time sitting in a silent phone call with some boring figure from his past? You smiled at that thought, a smile of cynical amusement that didn’t reach your eyes. Though you were Sungchan’s significant other in the present, you supposed you’d caught yourself thinking of yourself as a figure from his past. 

“I’ll let you go,” you spoke, thankful that your voice didn’t disclose the tears in your eyes.

“Okay,” Sungchan agreed. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

Johnny Suh didn’t fit your usual dating criteria. With his black leather jacket, heavy lace-up boots, and hulking motorcycle, he was a bit of a bad boy. And there was something exciting in that. You’d met him late one night, in the bar where you worked. You’d served him all night - rum and coke, his drink of choice. He certainly caught your eye, at first. He was handsome, with his brown eyes twinkling and his long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. But it wasn’t until the two of you started talking that you became interested. It was a quiet night, and Johnny insisted on sitting at the bar in front of you. He was teasing, charming. And when he gave you his number at closing time, you actually tapped the digits into your phone, rather than just discarding it like you usually do. Unlike the rest of your patrons who thrust their contact details upon you, when it came to Johnny the interest was mutual.

So, while it was true that Johnny wasn’t quite the typical man you went after, the relationship had been going well. He’d been nothing short of a gentleman in the duration of your relationship, though he still thrilled you with his affinity for the more reckless things in life; late-night motorcycle rides, drinking just a little too much and partying all night. He took the mundaneness out of your life - he made your life an adventure.

Towards the end of your shift that Friday evening, you found yourself getting jittery; you checked the time every five minutes, and a swarm of butterflies was building in your stomach. Johnny was picking you up after work on his bike, and it was all you could think about. You almost ran out of the establishment, when the clock struck ten, marking the end of your shift. Your heart swelled at the sight of Johnny in the bar’s parking lot, leaning against his motorcycle with his hands in his pockets.

“Hey, angel,” he greeted you, affection glowing in his eyes and his smile.

“Hi,” you beamed, wrapping your arms around his waist and taking in his warmth. He picked you up immediately, holding you tight and spinning you. “Johnny!” you giggled, fingers grasping the cotton of his white t-shirt. 

“You ready to meet my boys?” he asked you, punctuating his question with a kiss on your nose. He was referring to the friends he considered family; he lived with them, in a rather large house on the outskirts of town, from what you’d heard. They were special to him, and you knew it was important to him that you got along with them. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t completely terrified. You knew it’d be okay, though. If they had Johnny’s approval you were sure they’d be good people. Plus, you could never be too scared with Johnny’s hand in your own.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you responded with a smile.

“Hop on,” he instructed you, tossing you a helmet and putting on his own. At the beginning of your relationship, he’d given you his own helmet, forgoing his protection for the sake of yours. You hadn’t liked this - this display of his reckless attitude that surpassed thrilling and sat nicely in the territory of dangerous - and so you’d pestered him until he bought a second helmet.

You secured your rucksack on your back, prepacked with all the clothes and toiletries you required for the weekend you’d be spending with your boyfriend, before climbing onto the large black bike behind him. Johnny had been driving you around on his bike for a number of weeks now, but you still weren’t quite used to it. The mix of fear and exhilaration, both from the wind whipping past your ears and from the sensation of your chest pressed flush against Johnny’s back, your arms tight around his waist. It made your heart race. The feeling you got from riding a motorcycle embodied everything that Johnny was: dark, exciting, intoxicating, addictive.

Johnny hadn’t been lying when he said he lived on the outskirts. The bright lights of the town centre were far behind you, and even the streetlights had begun to die out. You were alone with the moon and starlight now. The neatly paved roads gave way to rough muddy lanes. The built-up urban surroundings gave way to empty fields, then to a dense and seemingly endless forest. The bike’s headlamp shone a path through the trees, guiding Johnny to his home. Though your partner clearly felt familiar here, the environment sent chills down your spine - you could’ve sworn you felt eyes on you, peering out from the darkness. When your journey ended, at a solitary house looming tall against the dark backdrop of the forest, you were thankful.

“Here we are,” Johnny welcomed you, helping you off the bike. The house was bigger than you could’ve expected. The term mansion wouldn’t be amiss.

“So,” you commented, looking up at the structure, illustrated by the silver moonlight. “This is where you and your biker gang live?” You looked along the line of bikes, queued up around the house. They were of different styles and sizes, though (with your limited knowledge on motorcycles) they all looked rather impressive.

“I keep telling you, we’re not a biker gang,” Johnny corrected you, with a lighthearted roll of his eyes. “We’re just a group of friends who live together, and just so happen to ride together too.”

“And if that’s not a biker gang, what is?” you teased.

“Zip it,” Johnny said gently, and you complied. “Here, I’ll take your bag.”

“Ever the gentleman,” you commented, passing it to him. You braced yourself, as he led you into his home.

It was warm inside, much warmer than out in the chilly woodland. From what you could tell by looking at the entranceway, the place was tidy and well-lit. Your boyfriend led you down the hall, into an open-plan kitchen and living area, where Johnny's friends were sitting around the television. 

"We're home, guys," Johnny announced, drawing their attention towards you.

"Hey, look what Johnny brought home!" one of them called out, bringing a blush to your cheeks.

"Watch it," Johnny warned, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you close to him. "Y/N is all mine. You can look, but you can't touch. In fact, you can only look for five seconds at a time."

“These are the boys” Johnny introduced you to them. “This is Jaehyun, Ten, Mark. And that’s Donghyuck. My protege, right kid?” 

“That’s right, John” the boy grinned up at Johnny from where he was sitting.

You gave a shy wave as you looked around at Johnny's friends. Though he had named them all, introducing them, it was a redundant act. You'd asked to see pictures of everybody prior to that night, not wanting to get lost amid a sea of unfamiliar faces. You saw Jaehyun, with his dimples and broad shoulders; Mark, with pronounced cheekbones and a delicate nose; Ten, with a feline-like beauty; and Donghyuck, full cheeks and long eyelashes. 

"I think we're just gonna turn in for the night, right Y/N?" Johnny spoke, looking down at you. "See you boys tomorrow."

You waved at Johnny's friends, with a polite, "Bye." The boys chorused their goodbyes back at you, and Johnny led you away.

You couldn't help but admire the house as Johnny guided you to his bedroom, your hand in his. The place was huge, grand. You weren't sure under what circumstances Johnny and his friends acquired this house, but it can't have been cheap. 

"And this," he led you inside, "Is my room."

The room was a fair size, with several tall windows and a four-poster double bed. The matching furniture looked sturdy and high-quality, a dark antique wood.

"This is impressive," you told him honestly. Johnny beamed in pride; he was always looking for praise, and you were happy to feed his ego.

Johnny lounged on his bed, laying back propped up on his elbows. "Come feel how comfy my bed is," he invited you with a smirk.

"Johnny Suh, you are not smooth. I know that's just an excuse to get me into bed," you said, falling beside him.

"If you knew it was just an excuse," Johnny asked, pausing to plant a kiss on your jawline, "Then why'd you join me?"

"Because," you tell him, "Maybe I want to be in bed with you."

Johnny gave a low chuckle, before kissing you again; a line beginning at your jaw, trailing down to your neck, and ending at your collarbone, making you gasp and lean into his touch.

"Johnny," you purred, your voice full of want.

"Let Johnny take care of you, baby," Johnny hummed. You obliged, submitting to his touch and surrendering to the pleasure.

Coming down from your high, you collapsed against Johnny’s bed, smiling as you looked up at your boyfriend who lay beside you.

“You’re perfect,” Johnny told you, his dark brown eyes gazing deeply into your own. You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, and you looked away, only for Johnny to tilt your chin back up towards him. “It’s true,” he reiterated.

“I’m not perfect,” you denied, wrinkling your nose.

Johnny pecked your lips. “You are. My angel.”

You looked at him, lying beside you in his bed. His sex hair was immaculate, perfectly tousled from rolling around and from your fingers tugging on it. His lips were plump and pink from your kisses, and his collarbones were decorated in pink splotches. He looked beautiful, he was glowing, and you couldn’t help but grin at him.

“Hey,” Johnny says suddenly, sitting up and untangling himself from the blankets. “Let me give you a massage.”

“It’s okay, babe, you don’t have to,” you waved away his offer. He seemed deadset, however, cracking his knuckles in preparation.

“I insist. Roll over.” You obeyed, lying on your front and allowing your boyfriend to straddle your waist. His hands pressed into your skin, rubbing deeply into your muscles. The sensation was pleasant, you had to admit. Mostly, you just enjoyed the proximity between you and Johnny, and the feeling of being taken care of by someone you loved. You closed your eyes, allowing yourself to slip away and ease into the feeling.

You weren’t allowed to slip away for long, however, as your phone began to buzz, startling you. The vibrations against the hardwood of Johnny’s bedside table conjured a harsh screeching noise. You lifted your head, peering at the screen.

You lifted your torso, as much as you could with Johnny’s weight on you. “Oh, it’s my mom. I should-”

“You can call her back later, angel,” Johnny said, pushing you back down onto the bed. The action was gentle, but Johnny didn’t need to use much force to manipulate your body; your boyfriend worked out, and bordered on freakishly strong - at least, in comparison to you. His buff arms held your shoulders down, preventing any movement. "This is my time to pamper you," he explained, resuming the massage.

"Okay," you tentatively agreed. "I'll call her back later." You got the sense that this massage was much more for Johnny's benefit than for yours, but if it kept him happy, then so be it.

“Good morning, angel,” Johnny greeted you. Your eyelids fluttered open, adjusting to the light in his bedroom. With a groan, you stretched your muscles, stiff from sleeping. “I brought you a cup of coffee.”

You looked to your boyfriend, smiling at you as he entered the room, a mug in each hand. You couldn’t be sure how long he’d been awake, or what time it was, but he was dressed already, beige cable-knit sweater and loose jeans, with his hair pulled back in a low ponytail. It was a contrast to his usual greaser bad-boy image, and the sight warmed your heart. He looked cozy, soft. You smiled back at him, sitting up and letting the covers pool around your waist. 

“Morning, Johnny,” you beamed at him, accepting the cup of coffee he handed to you. You took a sip and moaned in delight. Your boyfriend made a mean cup of coffee, perfectly sweet without being overbearing. He sat beside you on the bed, caressing your cheek lightly.

“I was thinking we could go out for a walk,” he suggested, before taking a swig of his own coffee. “It’s a nice morning.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

A while later, fully dressed and hand-in-hand with Johnny, you found yourself venturing through the forest that surrounded the house. There were a few man-made footpaths winding between the trees, but for the most part, you were truly in the middle of nature, an environment completely untouched by humans. Birds flapped their wings, rustling in the trees, and creatures whose species were unknown to you scrambled to run away in your wake, paws pounding on the forest floor. Johnny had been right; it was a nice morning. The sun filtered through branches and leaves, casting light and warmth down upon you, and the air was clean and fresh.

“It’s so nice out here,” you commented, looking around at the greens and browns that encompassed you.

“Yeah,” Johnny agreed. “I’m lucky to live here.”

“You really are. I’d walk through here every morning if I were you.”

“You’re lucky, too,” Johnny acknowledged, squeezing your hand. “You’re dating me. You can walk here whenever you want as well.” You smiled, your heart swelling at his words.

“It really is isolated, huh? Your house?” you remarked, peering around at your surroundings. The nearest road was so far away that you couldn’t even hear the rush of cars from where you stood.

“Yeah,” Johnny confirmed. “It’s not easy to get out of the house.” Why anyone would wish to escape this peaceful surroundings, you had no idea. It felt so far removed from the hustle and bustle of everyday life; your usual troubles felt so distant.

The sun had risen higher in the sky by the time you returned to Johnny’s house, and you realised you hadn’t even brought your phone with you. You hadn’t even thought to check the time once since you woke up. This was so out of the ordinary for you, particularly on a Saturday morning, when you’d usually be lounging in your apartment scrolling through social media.

The house had woken up by the time you stepped through the front door. It had been silent when you left, though now it seemed that the entire household was up and about.

“Where have you been, John?” Ten called out, as the two of you entered the kitchen.

“Just out for a walk,” he explained, taking a seat at the kitchen island, where you joined him.

“By the way, Y/N, it’s nice to meet you,” Ten greeted you, smiling sweetly.

“It’s nice to meet you, too,” you returned, smiling back politely.

Johnny leaned in close, stage-whispering. “It’s really not all that nice to meet him. He’s a pretty lousy guy. Into some real weird stuff. Has probably killed a guy.” Ten gave Johnny a pointed glare as he departed the kitchen, and you giggled at your boyfriend’s antics.

“So,” Donghyuck asked, his voice somewhat muffled as he peered into the open fridge. “What do you guys have planned today?”

“Hmm. Not much,” Johnny answered. “Have some lunch, take it easy.”

“I want to shower first,” you announced, stretching your arms above your head. The physical exertion of your outdoor walk, along with your heated activities the night before, had left you feeling a little less than squeaky clean.

“We should do that together,” Johnny suggested, pressing a lingering kiss to your cheek, which flamed at his proposition. 

“Okay,” you giggled in spite of yourself. Johnny was the only man, since you’d been twelve years of age, who was capable of reducing you to such a blushing, giggling mess.

“Let’s go,” Johnny invited you, smirking as he stood up and held out his hand. You took it, and laughed when Donghyuck fake gagged and Johnny stared at him with daggers in his eyes. You allowed Johnny to lead you, your hand in his, all the way upstairs. After retrieving your toiletries and change of clothes, you joined him in the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

“The lock is funny,” he told you, leaning over you to fiddle with it. “You really have to twist it-” he grunted, “There we go.”

You smiled, bunching up his shirt in your hands and pulling him closer towards you. He looked smug as he leaned in to kiss you, his lips sweet and commanding. Your hands went under his shirt, ghosting over his chiseled abdomen, which tensed delightfully under your touch.

Johnny pulled away, his eyes scanning up and down your body, setting you alight with his gaze. “Why don’t you doll yourself up for lunch, huh? I want to show everyone how beautiful you are.”

“Okay,” you nodded, agreeing to his suggestion. He captured your lips again, and you smiled against his lips. “We need to shower, baby. And no funny business.”

“No promises,” Johnny grinned, his eyes twinkling. When he took his shirt off, however, your request of no funny business went completely out the window.

Sunday morning came all too fast, as your weekend with Johnny came to a close. It had been peaceful, relaxing, a greatly needed recharge, and you weren’t quite ready to return to your regular life. Walks through the city rather than through the woodland, and shifts in the bar all week long.

"I wish you didn't have to leave today," Johnny said, pouting as his fingertip traced shapes along your forearm as you lounged on his bed together.

"I know, babe, me too," you agreed. His eyelashes looked long, fanned across his cheeks as he gazed downwards.

"You should stay," Johnny suggested, a hopeful lilt to his voice. "Just another day or two?"

You shook your head at him. "I'm working all week babe, it's easier if I just go home. I can stay again next weekend." 

Johnny sighs, an irritated huff, retracting his hand from your arm. "You don't wanna stay with me?" he asked, looking up at you with hurt in his eyes.

"It's not that I don't want to, John, it'll just be complicated. You'll have to give me a lift to work, and it's so far that I'll have to wake up a lot earlier."

"You don't even sound like you're going to miss me," he pointed out. His voice had a tinge of anger and it frustrated you in turn. He was acting so petty - you hadn't seen this immature side of him before.

"Of course I'll miss you, Johnny," you assured him with a roll of your eyes. "But we can see each other next weekend, okay?"

"Whatever," Johnny scoffed.

"Whatever?" you asked incredulously. "Johnny, you're acting like a child."

"Sorry. Sorry I'm going to miss my partner because they insist on leaving me." 

You shifted away from Johnny, swinging your legs off the bed and facing away from him. "This is stupid," you muttered.

"I'm stupid?" Johnny exclaimed.

You rubbed your eyes in frustration. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't need to." Johnny jumped up from the bed, swiftly storming past you and exiting the room, complete with exaggerated stomps and a hefty slam of the door.

“God!” you cussed, in irritation and disbelief. You couldn’t believe he was acting like this. This side of Johnny, bitter and bad-tempered - you couldn’t say you enjoyed it. If anything, his outburst had only made you want to leave more. You cursed the complete and utter isolation of the place. You could hardly leave and catch a bus - you’d get lost if you even tried venturing out into the woods. Johnny was your ride home, and you didn’t want to face him. You weren’t even sure if he’d oblige, if you asked him to take you home.

You stood, scanning through your options, and your feet led you out of Johnny’s room. Down the hall, to the room you were sure belonged to Donghyuck. You knocked on the door, two uncertain taps. 

“Yeah?” Donghyuck’s voice called out from within - bingo. You pushed the door open apprehensively. The room was smaller than Johnny’s, though still a decent size. He had a large television mounted on the wall, hooked up to a gaming system that looked rather impressive, to your amateur perspective. 

“Oh, Y/N,” he remarked, sounding surprised and pausing his video game. “What’s up?”

“I’m sorry to bother you,” you prefaced, stepping into his room and closing the door behind you. “Johnny and I… had a bit of an argument. I was wondering if you could give me a ride home?”

“You fought?” Donghyuck asked. “What about?”

You sighed “It’s nothing. Something silly.” You didn’t particularly want to divulge the details to Donghyuck - you didn’t want to end up badmouthing Johnny to his friends. 

“Hey, sit down,” he invites you, patting the space beside him, on the end of his bed. “Come play video games with me. Take a minute to calm down.” You hesitantly joined him, taking a seat on the end of his bed. “Think this through, Y/N, it’s probably not a good idea to storm out.”

You picked up the controller Donghyuck gave you, holding it loosely. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Johnny wouldn’t be happy if I left without saying anything.”

“That guy has a temper,” Donghyuck commented under his voice. You felt inclined to agree, after the way he’d acted that morning.

“How do I play?” you asked, examining the controller in your hands. Donghyuck leaned over, running you through the controls and rules of the game. The other boy pressed play, and you were flung into the game headfirst, forced to learn and adapt to the fast-paced course of the game. You didn’t know how much time passed, but by your fourth round of the game, you were laughing and shouting along with Donghyuck, all thoughts of smothering boyfriends erased from your mind.

“Feeling better, huh?” Donghyuck asked, beaming at you. 

“Yeah,” you confirmed, nodding. “Thanks.”

“One more round?”

“I should probably go talk to Johnny,” you denied apologetically. “But thank you.”

“Any time,” he smiled, holding out his fist for a bump, which you obliged. 

“Bye,” you bid him, before departing his bedroom and moving down the hall. You stood for a moment, outside Johnny’s bedroom door, taking a deep breath and bracing yourself.

When you pushed open the door, you found Johnny already standing in his room. You approached him slowly and with apprehension, speaking in a calm and gentle tone. “Hey, Johnny? I’m sorry for blowing up earlier.”

“It’s okay,” he assured you. His composure surprised you, after the volume of his outburst earlier. He didn’t look at you, nor did he turn around to face you. He stood before his dresser, apparently very focused on something inside it. “Why were you in Donghyuck’s room?”

Your eyes widened a little. He didn’t sound mad, nor did he have the right to be. But something about the situation, or perhaps about his demeanor, made you feel a little jittery. You didn’t know he’d been watching you. “Oh. Um. He was just convincing me to stay.” You cleared your throat, feeling the need to change the subject. “What are you doing?”

“Come look,” he beckoned you. You joined him, peering down into the dresser which he seemed so enthralled by.

You gulped. The open drawer was like something you’d find in a museum; it was lined with crimson velvet, and several vintage-looking pistols were laid out in it. They ranged in size and style, the smallest being the size of your palm and the largest stretching to the length of your forearm. “I… I didn’t know you had guns.” The sight of them made your heart race. If you were being honest, you’d led a rather sheltered life, and had never been in the presence of so many weapons. It made you feel uneasy.

“I don’t use them. They’re only collectibles.” Johnny picked up the smallest gun, and you flinched. He glanced at you, and the look in his eyes was undetectable to you - it wasn’t offence, nor regret, but his eyes definitely glinted with something. The way he handled the gun, you weren’t sure if you bought the ‘collectibles’ line. He handled it with such ease and grace, that it almost seemed like he was born with a gun in his hand. Though it was small, compact, barely the size of your hand - and it appeared even smaller in Johnny’s palm, which dwarfed it - you found yourself stunned and shivery, thinking about the damage it was capable of. Did Johnny collect bullets, too? you found yourself wondering.

You averted your gaze, discomfort taking over, and noticed that your phone lay atop the dresser. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You weren’t sure where, exactly, you had left your phone, but you were certain you hadn’t laid it there. “Hey - my phone-”

“Oh, right,” Johnny said, placing his gun back in the drawer and closing it sharply, twisting a key which sat in the keyhole, locking it away. “Your boss called. He said you don’t have to work tomorrow. That’s great, right? You can stay the night - you don’t have to leave.”

You nodded, feeling a little sick but faking a smile anyways. “Great.” You were tired, physically and emotionally. You felt bad for even thinking it, but you wanted a break from your boyfriend. You wanted some space. He was making you feel uncomfortable, bordering on unsafe, and you found yourself craving the security you felt in Donghyuck’s room.

“Um, I’m gonna take a shower,” you conjured the excuse for an escape. 

“Okay,” Johnny accepted it easily, smiling widely. He wrapped his arms around your waist, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t be gone too long, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when he released you. You would stay another night; it wasn’t worth upsetting Johnny over.

You had to admit that you felt a lot better after showering. The warm water had relaxed you, along with the familiar and comforting scent of your shampoo grounding you and bringing your emotions to a calmer, neutral level. You were standing before the bathroom mirror, applying moisturiser to your face, when you heard a click. A turn.

The broken lock.

Before you could act, Donghyuck was before you, staring at you with wide eyes. You let out a yelp, turning around, though most of your skin was hidden beneath your towel.

“Fuck, sorry! I’m so sorry! Don’t tell Johnny about this!” he blurted.

“It’s okay,” you responded, cheeks flushed. You weren’t sure Donghyuck had heard your forgiveness, however; you’d heard him dash away while your back was turned. You laugh awkwardly to yourself at the mishap, before closing the door again and making certain to twist the lock properly. It had only been a silly mistake, you reassured yourself. And he hadn’t seen anything, besides your bare shoulders, which was hardly a great reveal.

You shook your head, before drying and dressing yourself. The poor boy had been so flustered, and you had to admit it was sort of endearing.

“Nice shower?” Johnny asked when you returned to his room, lying on his bed atop the covers.

You nodded, joining him on the bed. “I feel so relaxed now.”

He pulled you close to him, kissing your lips gently. “Jaehyun’s making dinner for everyone, it’ll be ready before long.”

“That’s nice of him,” you murmured, laying your head on Johnny’s shoulder. “Poor Donghyuck, though. We had a really awkward moment in the bathroom, I don’t know if he’ll be ready to face me.”

You felt Johnny tense, his muscles going hard beneath you. “What do you mean?”

“He walked in on me showering. I don’t think he saw much, but-”

Johnny sat up abruptly, causing your head to fall back on the bed. “He fucking what?” Johnny hissed.

“Johnny, it’s fine,” you insisted. “I was wrapped in a towel-”

“I’m going to fucking kill him,” Johnny cursed, standing.

“Johnny,” you spoke firmly, grabbing his arm in a tight grip. “Stop. I said he didn’t see anything.”

“I fucking hope not,” Johnny growled, sitting down once more. He tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, stroking your face lightly. His hand was trembling. “You’re my angel,” he said. “I don’t want anybody else seeing you like that.”

“It won’t happen again, okay? I’m all yours, I promise.” You placed your hand on top of Johnny’s, soothing him with your touch. His temper, flaring again. This wasn’t something you liked much about Johnny, and you hadn’t been all that glad to meet this side of him. But, you bargained, nobody was perfect - you certainly weren’t. Besides, you had been ready this time; your firm tone and gentle touch had helped to calm him.

Johnny stood up, rubbing his face with both of his hands. You heard him release a shaky breath.

“Please calm down, Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine,” he said, nodding certainly. “I’m calm.”

“Let’s go get dinner, yeah?” You stood, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Yeah,” he agreed, squeezing your hand a little too tightly.

Johnny’s rather sour mood remained all throughout dinner, as evidenced by his clenched jaw and the protective hand he laid on your thigh. His sullen demeanor made him somewhat of a bore to be around, and you found yourself laughing and joking with his friends; you’d be happy to consider Donghyuck a friend, and Mark was hilarious too. Johnny didn’t seem to like this, however. You spent the last portion of the meal in silence, quietly eating and staying close to Johnny’s side.

Even afterwards, as you watched a movie with the group, Johnny refused to relax and let go of his needless worries. Everybody was laughing at the movie, but you couldn’t help but notice that Johnny hadn’t even cracked a smile the whole time. In fact, you didn’t even think he’d been watching the movie; his eyes hardly left you, flitting between your face and your body. As though if he stopped watching you, something horrible would happen. As though he were keeping guard.

He pulled you closer towards him, though there was very little space between the two of you on the couch beforehand. His lips connected with your cheek, before straying down towards your neck. You felt your skin heat up in embarrassment, although all eyes in the room were still trained on the television. Johnny wrapped his arm around your waist, using his strength to lift you onto his lap. You squeaked at the sudden action, earning inquisitive glances from Johnny’s friends, which only fuelled how flustered you were. He held your body close to his, squeezing you. His breath tickled your neck, sending shivers down your spine, before he sunk his teeth into your skin. You hoped your muffled moan went unnoticed, but your eyes were shut tightly so it was unknown to you. You squirmed in Johnny’s lap, thighs clenching together tightly.

In another show of Johnny’s strength, or perhaps just his relative power in comparison to your apparent weakness, he lifted you swiftly. The abrupt movement surprised you, and you gasped sharply.

“Y/N and I are going upstairs,” Johnny announced to the group, and you silently allowed him to guide you away.

“Because,” he continued as you two left the room, “I can take Y/N any time I want.”

“Johnny!” you scolded him, mouth agape with humiliation as his boys hollered in your wake. He ignored your cries of reprimand, scooping you up off your feet with a grin on his face. 

“C’mon, baby,” he whispered, carrying you away to his bedroom. You sighed in fond exasperation, laying your head against his chest. You condemned his announcement of “I can take Y/N any time I want,” but the fact remained true that he could certainly take you then.

Monday morning. You were growing terribly bored of this big, old house in the middle of nowhere. Spending time with Johnny was nice, when he wasn’t baring his angry possessive side. Although you really liked him, you found yourself wanting some space. And so, when you woke up before Johnny, you left his sleeping form behind, pulled one of his oversized sweaters over your head, and set out to explore the enormous house that had become your confinement.

Nobody else was awake, or so it seemed when you ventured downstairs and poured yourself a glass of juice. You felt itchy, agitated. Even when you settled on the couch, the sense of calm you desired simply refused to fall over you. With an agitated sigh, you advanced throughout the house, exploring the ground floor. You had learned that all the bedrooms were on the first floor, and so you’d been wondering where one specific door led. Off the left of the hallway, aside from the kitchen and living area, and the ground floor bathroom.

The door creaked as you pushed it open, as did the floorboards when you stepped through the threshold. The room was dark, though you identified the furnishings of a study when you squinted your eyes. You moved to the far side of the room, drawing open the heavy red curtains thereby illuminating the space and releasing a cloud of dust at the same time. You waved the cloud away, choking.

There was a sturdy desk, littered with boxes full of clutter, accompanied by a rickety chair that looked like it would fall apart if you put any weight on it. You gasped a silent “wow” as you took in the wall opposite the door, lined with shelves that stretched from floor to ceiling, crammed to the brim with books of every size. You approached the extensive library, examining the titles. You didn’t recognise anything, apart from a few classics, but it was still an impressive collection. You began to wonder whether one of the boys had inherited the property from an older relative - none of them seemed particularly studious or academic, at least not enough to warrant an assortment of books this great. You trailed a finger along the spines, accumulating yet more dust. The books, much like the room in its entirety, had sat untouched for a long time.

“Boo!”

You shrieked, spinning around with your arms raised in defence, only to sigh in relief and clutch your heart. “Donghyuck! You scared me!”

The boy bent in half, in stitches at the fear he’d instilled in you. “I’m sorry! I couldn’t resist!” You couldn’t help but join in with his laughter; it was just so infectious. Even minutes later, you were cackling while wiping tears away from your eyes.

“So,” Donghyuck spoke, as his laughter died down. “What are you doing in here?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, still smiling. “Just exploring, I guess.”

“I don’t think there’s anything interesting in here,” Donghyuck claimed, looking around at the books.

“Really? It seems like hidden treasure to me.” You peered upwards, at the higher shelves, before standing on your tiptoes and stretching upwards, reaching for an eye-catching book with a golden spine.

“Careful,” Donghyuck murmured, placing a hand on the small of your back to steady you as you strained.

You heard Johnny’s growl, a split second before he entered your field of vision, entering the study and shoving Donghyuck away from you.

“Johnny!” you cried, feeling helpless and out of control as he squared up to the younger man.

Donghyuck had his hands raised in surrender, looking at his friend with concern tainting his expression. “Hey, man, calm down,” he attempted to pacify Johnny.

“Stay away from Y/N,” Johnny yelled, right in Donghyuck’s face

You leapt into action, maneuvering your way in between the pair, palm flat on Johnny’s chest. “Johnny, look at me,” you commanded him firmly. There was a fire in his eyes that you didn’t recognise. It flamed, bright and angry, threatening to burn anything and everything in its path. It scared you, and you resisted strongly against the urge to cower before him.

“Come on, Y/N,” he bit, gripping your forearm tightly. Potentially tight enough to bruise.

“Come on where?” you asked, stumbling as you struggled to keep up. He tugged you out of the room and down the hall, as you tried not to trip over your own feet.

“We’re going for a walk. Put your shoes on,” he demanded, arms crossed, waiting for you to obey.

“I- Johnny- What?” you sputtered. “Can I at least go upstairs and get my coat?”

“No,” he denied flatly. You rolled your eyes, slipping into your shoes. Wasting no time, Johnny pulled you out of the house, slamming the door behind you. You followed after him, your heart pounding with a mixture of uncertainty, anxiety, and speechless anger, as he marched you out into the woods, only stopping when you reached a clearing a good distance away from the house.

“Something’s going on between you and Donghyuck,” Johnny stated with hard certainty, as though it were fact. His face was flushed red, veins prominent along his forehead. He looked at you expectantly, but you had no idea what he wanted in response.

You sighed, rubbing your eyes tiredly. You couldn’t help but yell at him. “Johnny, what are you talking about? You’re my boyfriend. I like you. But not when you act like this, Jesus Christ!”

Johnny advanced, closing the gap between you, and you flinched when he regained his grip on your arm. “You need to stay the fuck away from Donghyuck, okay?”

“This is such a huge overreaction!” You tried to struggle away from his grip, but he was far too strong, his will iron.

Johnny leaned in, impossibly even closer to your face. “I brought you here, as my baby, to show you off to all my friends,” he hissed. “And you let them get their grubby little hands on you? I thought better of you, Y/N. I thought you were fucking faithful.”

Your heart raced, pounding wildly with how badly you wanted to get away from him. You didn’t think you could forgive him for this outburst. You just wanted to leave. “You’re fucking insane,” you shouted at him.

Johnny looked disgusted at your words. “Don’t talk to me like that.”

“Me?” you asked incredulously, finally shrugging out of his grasp. “Me, don’t talk to you like that? Listen, Johnny, I’m not your shiny little toy you can show off to your friends. I’m a human being. And you have no right telling me who I can and can’t talk to.”

“Come here.” Johnny was looking at you, his mouth a straight line, his eyes cold.

“Why?”

“Come here,” he repeated, and you hesitantly took a step forward, afraid to disobey him when he spoke in such an angry, demanding voice. Johnny reached out, gripping you by the arm before spinning you round quickly, pulling you close to him. Your chest was pressed tightly against his back, his arm across your chest, locking you in place. You could feel his heavy, ragged breathing.

“I’m not happy, Y/N,” he jeered, whispering into your ear harshly. “You’re my angel, and you’ve upset me. Maybe you aren’t such an angel after all.” You thrashed, but his grasp on you only tightened. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“Johnny, please,” you begged, your voice nothing but a hoarse whimper.

“Let me talk,” he hissed at you. “You’ve hurt me. And I need to show you - I need to hurt you back.”

“What are you- let me go!” You continued to flail in his hold, kicking out your feet but failing to do any real damage to him.

“Shh, it’ll only last a second,” he hushed you, his lips touching your ear and sending shivers down your spine. You felt him fumble behind you, and found an opportunity for escape, but it was no use. His grip on you was iron-tight, unrelenting. Johnny jabbed you in the chest, slightly to the left of your sternum, directly over your banging heart. You looked down, choking on a sob. 

One of Johnny’s pistols, the so-called collectible item, was pressing into your skin.

“Right in the heart, Y/N. That’s where you hurt me.” 

“Johnny, please!” you cried, struggling in vain. Tears blurred your vision, and spit flew from your mouth as you pleaded with him. “Let me go, Johnny, I’m sorry!”

“Goodnight, angel.”

The air in the apartment was stifling; it was humid, filled with the scent of too many sweaty bodies. You’d been drinking and dancing all night, but the dehydration had gotten to you, and the situation was getting to be too much. You were growing tired of the party, and you wished for escape. Unnoticed, you snuck away from the mass of people, who were far too busy celebrating nothing other than their youth to realise the absence of just one person. You spied a door at the end of the hallway, leading to a fire escape that provided you with the perfect place to get some fresh air.

The cool night air hit you like a bus, although it was welcomed. You felt better immediately, closing your eyes and relishing the feeling.

“Hey,” a voice called out, and your breath hitched in surprise.

“Hi,” you replied, opening your eyes to find another person standing on the fire escape, who’d managed to escape your attention in the last few moments.

“Jeno,” he introduced himself.

“Y/N,” you returned. The other man seemed mostly sober, which worried you a little because you certainly weren’t. However, it didn’t worry you all that much, given the sheer amount of alcohol in your system.

“You at Jaemin’s party?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Me too. Want one?” You looked down, to see that he holding out a box of cigarettes in his hand.

“Sure,” you obliged, taking one. You placed it between your lips, where Jeno lit it. The two of you smoked in silence for a while, and there was an inexplicable feeling of peace to the situation. Maybe it was the calmness of the outdoors compared to the suffocating party, or maybe it was the man standing before you. You couldn’t be sure what to attribute the feeling to, but you were enjoying it.

“What’s your story, Y/N?” Jeno asked, after a while.

“My story?” you asked.

“Yeah. Who are you, what do you want out of life?” he elaborated.

You were quiet for a moment, thinking this over. “At the end of the day, all I want is a fairytale ending.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “A prince charming, a nice castle, a crown on your head?”

You shrugged. “Maybe just the prince charming.”

Jeno stubbed his cigarette out on the railing, letting it fall to the floor. “Well, I hope you find him.”

“Me too,” you agreed.

“Wanna go back inside?” he asked, holding out his arm for you to take.

You gasped. “Jeno - you aren’t my prince charming, are you?”

He grinned, his eyes forming happy crescents. “I can be, for tonight.”

“Here we are,” Johnny welcomed you, helping you off the bike. The house was bigger than you could’ve expected. The term mansion wouldn’t be amiss.

“So,” you commented, looking up at the structure, illustrated by the silver moonlight. “This is where you and your biker gang live?” You looked along the line of bikes, queued up around the house. They were of different styles and sizes, though (with your limited knowledge on motorcycles) they all looked rather impressive.

“I keep telling you, we’re not a biker gang,” Johnny corrected you, with a light-hearted roll of his eyes. “We’re just a group of friends who live together, and just so happen to ride together too.”

“And if that’s not a biker gang, what is?” you teased.

“Zip it,” Johnny said gently, and you complied. “Here, I’ll take your bag.”

“Ever the gentleman,” you commented, passing it to him. You braced yourself, as he led you into his home.

"I wish you didn't have to leave today," Johnny said, pouting as his fingertip traced shapes along your forearm as you lounged on his bed together.

"I know, babe, me too," you agreed. His eyelashes looked beautifully long, fanned across his cheeks as he gazed downwards.

"You should stay," Johnny suggested, a hopeful lilt to his voice. "Just another day or two?"

You shook your head at him. "I'm working all week babe, it's easier if I just go home. I can stay again next weekend." 

Johnny sighs, an irritated huff, retracting his hand from your arm. "You don't wanna stay with me?" he asked, looking up at you with hurt in his eyes.

"It's not that I don't want to, John, it'll just be complicated. You'll have to give me a ride to work, and it's so far that I'll have to wake up a lot earlier."

"You don't even sound like you're going to miss me," he pointed out. His voice had a tinge of anger and it frustrated you in turn. He was acting so petty - you hadn't seen this immature side of him before.

"Of course I'll miss you, Johnny," you assured him with a roll of your eyes. "But we can see each other next weekend, okay?"

"Whatever," Johnny scoffed.

"Whatever?" you asked incredulously. "Johnny, you're acting like a child."

"Sorry. Sorry I'm going to miss my partner because they insist on leaving me." 

You shifted away from Johnny, swinging your legs off the bed and facing away from him. "This is stupid," you muttered.

"I'm stupid?" Johnny exclaimed.

You rubbed your eyes in frustration. "I didn't say that."

"You didn't need to." Johnny jumped up from the bed, swiftly storming past you and exiting the room, complete with exaggerated stomps and a hefty slam of the door.

“God!” you cussed, in irritation and disbelief. You couldn’t believe he was acting like this. This side of Johnny, bitter and bad-tempered - you couldn’t say you enjoyed it. If anything, his outburst had only made you want to leave more.

You noticed that your phone lay atop Johnny’s dresser. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You weren’t sure where, exactly, you had left your phone, but you were certain you hadn’t laid it there. “Hey - my phone-”

“Oh, right. Your boss called. He said you don’t have to work tomorrow. That’s great, right? You can stay the night - you don’t have to leave.”

You nodded, feeling a little sick but faking a smile anyways. “Great.” You were tired, physically and emotionally. You felt bad for even thinking it, but you wanted a break from your boyfriend. You wanted some space. He was making you feel uncomfortable, bordering on unsafe, and you found yourself craving the security you felt in Donghyuck’s room.

“Um, I’m gonna take a shower,” you conjured the excuse for an escape. 

“Okay,” Johnny accepted it easily, smiling widely. He wrapped his arms around your waist, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Don’t be gone too long, alright?”

“Alright,” you nodded, breathing a sigh of relief when he released you. You would stay another night; it wasn’t worth upsetting Johnny over.

You peered upwards, at the higher shelves, before standing on your tiptoes and stretching upwards, reaching for an eye-catching book with a golden spine.

“Careful,” Donghyuck murmured, placing a hand on the small of your back to steady you as you strained.

You heard Johnny’s growl, a split second before he entered your field of vision, entering the study and shoving Donghyuck away from you.

“Johnny!” you cried, feeling helpless and out of control as he squared up to the younger man.

Donghyuck had his hands raised in surrender, looking at his friend with concern tainting his expression. “Hey, man, calm down,” he attempted to pacify Johnny.

“Stay away from Y/N,” Johnny yelled, right in Donghyuck’s face

You leapt into action, manoeuvring your way in between the pair, palm flat on Johnny’s chest. “Johnny, look at me,” you commanded him firmly. There was a fire in his eyes that you didn’t recognise. It flamed, bright and angry, threatening to burn anything and everything in its path. It scared you, and you resisted strongly against the urge to cower before him.

your nails drummed against the rounded surface of your wine glass, clicking like stilettos as you waited for your boyfriend to return.

"i’ve been waiting,” you told him, after hearing his key click in the lock

“y/n, i’m so sorry, i know i said i’d be home early-”

“shh,” you cut him off.

“i’ll make it up to you,” he promised, continuing despite your hushing.

you approached him slowly, and he could only watch as you got closer. “i know you will.” your fingers grasped his collar in a tight grip, pulling him in towards you. when you spoke again your voice was barely above a whisper but you knew your words would meet his ears with echoing thunder. “do you know the safe word?”

“peaches,” he breathed, his eyes focused in on your lips.

You had the biggest crush on Younghyun but you were too scared to say something, not wanting to lose the friendship you had with him.

Still the both of you regularly met for drinks. Sometimes late at night in bars, sometimes early in the morning for some coffee, orange juice and breakfast, and this time in a café for a hot beverage or two - and maybe a slice of cake.

When the doorbell rang suddenly, your eyes widened in surprise, quickly glancing at the clock on the wall.

Younghyun had arrived earlier than usual. He stood in front of your door, stepping from one foot to the other, and nervously played with his fingers. 

“Hey”, you smiled upon opening the door.

“Hey.”

Your eyes quickly roamed over his outfit, noticing the open trench coat over a blue turtleneck pullover and simple jeans. Your mind immediately wandered to scenarios, where you would snuggle up to him or sit on a couch, cuddling with him. You quickly shook your head to get rid of those thoughts before you smiled again. “I’ll just get my shoes and jacket and then I’m ready to go.”

Younghyun nodded. He watched you grabbing your stuff and stepped aside once you came back to the front door. “Ready?” He asked and held a hand out for you.

“Yes”, you whispered and took his hand, your heartbeat speeding up while your breathing almost stilled.

He didn’t let go of your hand during the whole walk, telling you about his day and other things. He made you laugh more than once and grinned even wider whenever he heard it.

Even when you reached the little café at the corner of a small street you held hands. You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks when Younghyun pulled you along to the counter. You tried to distract yourself and looked around. 

The café was called ‘Café Time’ and you could see how the interior design had picked up the name as a theme. Everywhere hung different kinds of clocks, each one showcasing a different time. Even the pollsters and pillows had clock designs on them.

“Do you know what you would like to drink?” Younghyun asked you while leaning closer to your ear.

Your attention snapped to the huge blackboard hanging on the wall behind the counter. Between some drawings of clocks and hourglasses someone had neatly written the menu by hand. You scanned over the listed items until your eyes stopped at one offer. A small smile spread over your face and you nodded, glancing back to Younghyun.

“Yeah, me too.”

“Hello and welcome! What can I get you two?”

“A hot chocolate, please.” Both Younghyun and you said at the same time, smiling shyly when you realised.

“With whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles.” You added and averted your eyes to the ground, feeling the heat crawling up your neck and face.

“For me too.”

“Alright, coming right up! Do you want anything else?” The barista asked, already typing in what you ordered.

You shook your head silently and Younghyun declined as well.

The barista told you how much you both had to pay but before you could pull your wallet out of your purse, Younghyun stopped your movement and paid for both of you.

After that he guided you to a more secluded table, even pulling out the chair for you to sit on. 

“Now this really feels like a date”, you mumbled under your breath, trying to hold your hopes at bay.

You didn’t intend for Younghyun to hear it, but he did and immediately piped up, looking towards you with wide eyes. “You call our little meeting dates as well?”

“What?”

Younghyun stuttered a little, a blush creeping up his cheeks, while he searched for an excuse why he had said something like that.

“You too?” You whispered, staring expectantly at him. Your heartbeat sped up and almost knocked the air out of your lungs. Your muscles clenched and unclenched, anticipating something you couldn’t exactly name.

Before he could answer you, the barista appeared with your two hot chocolates and placed them on the table in front of you.

“So, uh”, Younghyun looked hesitantly up to you, once the barista had left again. “Would it be okay to call this an official date now?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and nodded slowly. As soon as you saw Younghyun sigh in relief and grin brightly, you could feel the excitement rushing through your body.

This was now an official date. You were on a date with your long-time crush.

You smiled as well, taking your hot chocolate and nipping at it absentmindedly. Your head was still in the clouds and you felt as light as never before. Enough to not notice how hot the drink in your hand was, burning the tip of your tongue.

“Mhhm.” You quickly placed the cup back on the table and held your hand in front of your mouth while you pushed the tip of your tongue out between your lips.

“Are you alright?” Younghyun scooted closer to you with a concerned expression.

“Just burnt my tongue”, you told him, sounding quite funny with the muscle stuck out of your mouth. “It’s fine.”

Younghyun’s expression morphed from concerned to cheeky, a smirk adorning his lips. “I could kiss it better.”

“What?”

You saw the mirth twinkling in his eyes and swallowed, trying to wet your dry mouth. “I, uh, you, huh?”

Younghyun chuckled lowly and gently grabbed your wrist, pulling it lower. Another chuckle escaped his lips when he saw the tip of your tongue still between your lips. “You’re too adorable, you know that right?”

You could only blink at his question, still stunned at the prospect of kissing him.

“Can I kiss you?”

You swallowed once more before you nodded slowly, feeling your heart beating in your throat. You focused on his eyes and held your breath when Younghyun leaned closer. Your eyes fluttered shut and you could feel his hot breath fanning over your skin.

His lips barely brushed over yours and your heart stopped for a second. The electricity kept you on edge and flowed through your whole body, hitting every nerve.

You melted into the kiss as soon as he pressed his lips against yours. With trembling hands you grabbed his turtleneck and pulled him even closer. You forgot your surroundings, every thought resolving around Younghyun and nothing else.

He broke the kiss and laughed breathlessly, leaning his forehead against yours. “You taste like the hot chocolate you just tried”, Younghyun whispered with a smile. “Now I like the taste of it even more.”

Without meaning to you giggled and pecked his lips again. “How fortunate I love drinking hot chocolate at any given time.”