𝗟𝗲𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄—𝗛𝗼𝘁 𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝗿
𝘔𝘋𝘕𝘐🔞
@niku0704
𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥 𝗝𝗢𝗕
I had lost count of how many times I’d heard about him.
Every visit to my friend’s apartment came with the same ritual, a fresh update on Lee Know, the neighbor from 4B.
“He was taking out the trash in just a tank top yesterday, Y/N. I nearly passed out.”
Or: “I heard him singing in the shower through the wall. His voice is literally angelic.”
Or the classic: “If I don’t get a chance with him soon, I’m going to spontaneously combust.”
I would nod, laugh, and remind her that she’d been saying this for six months without ever actually making a move. But secretly, I understood. The few glimpses I’d caught of Lee Know in the hallway, his sharp jawline, almond eyes that crinkled when he smiled, that effortless good looks, were enough to make anyone’s brain short-circuit.
So when she called me on a lazy Saturday afternoon, claiming she needed company while she waited for Lee Know to come fix her kitchen sink, I didn’t hesitate.
“You’re actually going to talk to him this time, right?” I asked, settling onto the couch with a bag of chips.
“Absolutely,” she declared, pacing the living room. “I’ve prepared an entire conversation. I’m going to ask him about his cats. Girls love guys who love cats, right?”
“Genius strategy.”
Except the universe had other plans.
Twenty minutes before Lee Know was supposed to arrive, her phone buzzed with a frantic text from work. An emergency. A client crisis. She had to go in, just for an hour, maybe two.
“No,” she wailed, clutching her phone like it had personally betrayed her. “This is my moment. My chance. I can’t leave now.”
“Go,” I said, already reaching for the remote. “I’ll babysit the apartment. Tell him you got called in, and he can still fix the sink. I’ll let him in.”
“Really? You’d do that?”
“Of course. It’s just fixing a sink, not rocket science.”
She threw her arms around me in a grateful hug, then scrambled to grab her bag. “Okay, okay. Do NOT flirt with him. He’s mine.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
The door slammed shut, and I was alone.
I spent the next thirty minutes half-watching a drama and half-anticipating the knock that would eventually come. When it finally did, a sharp, confident rap against the wood, I felt a jolt of something I refused to name.
I opened the door.
And there he was.
Lee Know stood in the hallway, tools tucked under one arm, wearing a simple black t-shirt that clung to his shoulders and loose sweatpants that hung low on his hips. His hair was swept back, a few strands falling forward, and his smile was easy, casual.
“Hey,” he said, his voice lower than I expected. “Your friend texted me. Said I’d be fixing the sink for a pretty audience instead.”
I laughed, stepping aside to let him in. “Something like that. She got called into work. I’m just the stand-in.”
“Stand-in audience.” He walked past me, close enough that I caught a hint of something clean and faintly musky. “I can work with that.”
The next hour was… interesting.
Lee Know worked methodically, crouched under the sink, his hands moving with practiced ease. I sat on the counter nearby, watching, making small talk. I asked about his job, his dancing, his cats. He answered with dry humor and the occasional pointed look that made my stomach flip.
“So your friend,” he said, not looking up from where he was tightening a pipe. “She talks about me a lot?”
“You have no idea.”
“Good things, I hope.”
“Very good things.” I paused. “She might have a little crush on you.”
Lee Know emerged from under the sink, wiping his hands on a rag. His eyes met mine, and there was something knowing in them. “And what about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah. Do you have a little crush on me too?”
The question hung in the air, bold and unexpected. Heat crept up my neck.
“I think I’m just the messenger,” I said, deflecting.
He smirked. “Messengers are allowed to have opinions.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Because the truth was complicated, tangled up in loyalty to my friend and the undeniable pull I felt toward him.
He finished the sink in silence after that, but the tension didn’t disappear. It thickened, wrapping around us like smoke.
“It’s all done,” he announced finally, packing up his tools. “Sink’s fixed. No more dripping.”
“Thanks. I’ll let her know.”
He didn’t move toward the door.
Instead, he leaned against the counter, arms crossed, head tilted. “Your friend’s not coming back for a while, is she?”
“Probably not. Another hour. Maybe two.”
“Good.”
The word landed heavy.
“Why is that good?” I asked quietly.
He pushed off the counter and walked toward me, slow and deliberate. Each step felt calculated. He stopped close enough that I could see the faint mole under his eye.
“Because I’ve been watching you watch me all afternoon,” he said. “And I want to know what you’re thinking.”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“I think,” I said slowly, “that you’re dangerous.”
“Dangerous how?”
“Dangerous like… I shouldn’t be standing this close to you.”
His hand came up, brushing a strand of hair from my face. The touch was light, but it sent a spark down my spine.
“And yet here you are,” he murmured.
“Tell me to stop,” he said softly. “Tell me this is a bad idea, and I’ll leave.”
Every rational thought screamed at me to do exactly that.
But I didn’t.
“I don’t want you to stop.”
That was all it took.
His mouth met mine, warm and insistent, and my hands found their way to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt. He kissed me like he’d been waiting for permission, like the restraint he’d been showing had been barely holding together.
His hands slid down my sides, gripping my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel the heat of his body through my clothes, the hard lines of muscle under the soft cotton.
“I’ve noticed you too,” he breathed against my lips. “Every time you visit. Every time you walk past my door. I’ve noticed.”
My brain was a haze of want. I tugged at his shirt, pulling it up, needing to feel his skin. He helped me, yanking it over his head and tossing it aside without breaking the kiss.
My fingers traced his chest, smooth and warm, the faint outline of his abs making my breath hitch. He shuddered under my touch.
“You’re killing me,” he muttered.
“Good.”
He laughed, low and rough, then lifted me onto the kitchen counter. His hands slid up my thighs, pushing my skirt higher. My breath caught as his fingers brushed the damp fabric of my underwear.
“Already?” he asked, his voice teasing but darker now.
“Shut up.”
He didn’t. He just smiled against my neck, pressing a kiss there, then another, then another, working his way down to my collarbone. My head fell back, my fingers tangling in his hair.
His fingers hooked into the waistband of my underwear, pulling them down slowly. The anticipation was maddening. I bucked my hips, trying to rush him, but he held me steady.
“Patience,” he said.
“Forget patience.”
Lee Know’s laugh vibrated against my skin. “I like you.”
Then he knelt between my legs.
The first touch of his mouth made me gasp. He was precise, deliberate, his movements controlled in a way that made everything feel more intense. My hand fisted in his hair, my breathing uneven. He took his time, building the tension until I was trembling, until I was begging, until I finally broke with a cry I couldn’t hold back.
He stood again, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
I pulled him up for another kiss, tasting myself on his lips. My hands fumbled with his jeans, undoing the button, pulling down the zipper. He pressed closer, and I wrapped my hand around him, moving once, twice.
His groan was rough. “You’re going to make me lose control.”
“Good.”
I guided him closer, feeling the tension coil again between us. He paused for a second, meeting my eyes.
“Last chance to back out.”
I didn’t answer with words. I just pulled him closer.
We both let out a breath at the same time, the moment hitting all at once. He stilled briefly, his forehead resting against mine.
“Fuck,” he breathed.
“Yeah,” I whispered.
Then he moved.
Slow at first, controlled, like he was trying not to rush it. My legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer. His hands braced on either side of me, muscles tightening as his pace picked up.
The rhythm built steadily, tension climbing again, sharper this time. My breath caught, my grip tightening on him as everything blurred into sensation.
I felt it building again, low and intense. His breathing turned uneven, his control slipping.
“Come with me,” he said, his voice strained.
I couldn’t have stopped even if I tried.
The release hit hard, pulling everything out of me at once. He followed right after, his head dropping to my shoulder as he exhaled sharply against my skin.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then he pulled back slightly, his expression softer now, a faint smile tugging at his lips. He pressed a light kiss to my forehead.
“Your friend’s going to kill me,” he said.
I let out a quiet laugh. “She’s going to kill both of us.”
“Worth it.”
He helped me down from the counter and handed me a towel. We got dressed in silence, but everything felt different now, heavier, like we were both aware of what had just happened.
When my friend finally came back, Lee Know was already gone. The sink was fixed. The apartment looked untouched.
“Is it done?” she asked, dropping onto the couch.
“Yeah. All fixed.”
“And Lee Know? Was he cute?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. “Extremely.”
“I knew it,” she sighed. “One day. One day I’m going to make my move.”
I just smiled, the memory still lingering.
One day.
𝐏.𝐒. 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰, 𝐈 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰—𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝'𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡" 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐲. 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫, 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐢𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬!
𝐇𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐮 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲𝐞𝐝
𝐁𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐞 𝐱𝐨𝐱𝐨❤
