#nctnetwrite

You ate your pancakes, glancing over at your boyfriend from time to time. He had this soft aura around him, feeling like he came out straight from a dream. You started noticing every detail of his face, every little movement: his long fingers wrapped around the fork he was holding midair, ready to eat a small bite of food, the veins popping out on his forearm and hand while scrolling through his social media. His gaze fixed on the screen, wrinkling his nose from time to time, probably because of some crazy fans’ comments he read under one of his posts, promptly followed by a little grin. You came to think how lucky you were to be around him, to know all of his strange but cute habits, to see him at both his best and worst. 

And then it hit you: the reason why you always felt like you were living a dream whenever he was around. Why do you always feel like yourself and never had the need to fake it. The reason why he always managed to make you smile, no matter how shitty your day had been.

You were in love.

The sound of your fork falling onto your plate got Doyoung’s attention almost immediately, fixing his gaze with yours, a mixture of concern and confusion on his face.

There were a few seconds of silence that felt like hours, then he finally spoke “What’s the matter?”

You simply stood there for a little bit more, unsure of what to tell him.

“I love you, Doyoung. I really do.” You gulped loudly as anxiety took over your body. 

His expression changed: melancholy was plastered all over his face, a bitter smile growing on his lips. “I love you too, angel.” He sighed. “I just wish you had said it when I was still alive.”

You furrowed your eyebrows, unsure of his words’ meaning. Then you saw him changing: his skin getting paler by the second, dark circles forming under his now bloody eyes, his lips had now a dark blue tint. You tried to get up from your seat, willing to reach him but you were frozen in your spot. Then you saw him, his eyes closed, his lips slightly parted as if he was sleeping. Fully dressed, his lifeless body was resting inside an open coffin: and you were there, looking at him with bloodshed eyes, tears still running down your cheeks as you held his cold hand, the same hand with which your boyfriend took his life. 

You woke up, with your eyes wide open. Your bedroom was filled with darkness. You felt tears running down your cheeks, which you promptly whipped off. You turned over to the other side of the bed, hoping to see your boyfriend’s figure laying down peacefully next to you. But he wasn’t there. The strong aroma of coffee wasn’t filling the air. You walked into the bathroom, turning on the light: the image of yourself in the mirror almost startled you. You were a complete mess. Just like you have been for the past year. The dark circles under your eyes clearly tell that you have been sleep-deprived for quite a long time. You washed your face with cold water: a mare attempt to wipe away any trace of tiredness. 

You reached the kitchen downstairs, making yourself a cup of coffee: the only thing that apparently kept you going through the day. 

“Yes?” You answered your phone, your voice was quiet, similar to a murmur. “Hey darling, how are you doing?” Taeyong’s voice reached your ears from the other side of the phone. “I’m…doing okay.” You were everything but okay, and both you and your boyfriend’s best friend were well aware of that. “Did you at least get some sleep?” He was clearly worried, his tone got softer with the question. “I had another nightmare about him, Yong. Worst than any other I had so far.” Your voice cracked remembering the lifeless face of your boyfriend. “I am about to come to your place, do you wanna talk about it?” You sighed. “I would really appreciate that. Thank you, Yong, you’re an angel.” 

“I can only imagine what you’re going through.” Taeyong’s hand reached out to yours, caressing the back of it. “He was also your best friend, Yong, don’t pretend you are not hurting as much as I am.” You looked at him straight in the eyes. “Are you ready to go?” You sighed after a few seconds, your gaze lost in the emptiness of the room. “Yeah…let’s go.”

The car ride felt awfully long: you couldn’t actually tell if it was for the silence that none of you dared to break or because of the intrusive thoughts that have been accompanying you since Doyoung’s death. Both you and your friend got off the car and instinctively took the path that lead to your boyfriend grave: the fact that both of you did it so naturally made you realise how many times you took that same path every single day of the week. 

 You stopped in front of his tombstone: you promptly put some fresh gladiolus in the crystal vase in front of it, careful not to cover his photo. Once again, tears started filling your eyes and in a second they were already running down your cheeks. You saw Taeyong gently caressing his friend’s photo, whispering something that felt unintelligible for you. “I’ll wait for you in the car. Take all the time you need.” He cracked a broken smile and went back on the same trail the two of you came from.

“It’s been a year already, huh?” You were now sitting in front of the tomb, playing with a bunny plushie. It was the first gift he gave you. “You know, I often dream of you.” Then you chuckled. “Well, actually I always dream of you.” You let out a painful sigh. “I regret it every day, not telling you that I actually loved you.” You started sobbing. “What if I had told you, baby, I am sorry, Would you still be wearing my shirt every morning, or were the broken parts, waiting in the dark, I guess we'll never know it.” 

And then you felt it. You felt the warmth of a hand on your cheek. You immediately put yours on the same spot but felt nothing. But you could still feel it on your skin. You knew it was his hand. You could feel it. You could feel the loving touch of his on your face. You started crying even harder, unable to say a single word. You have been waiting for so long for a sign of his, and now you had it. He knew. He died knowing that you loved him with all your soul.

“I love you.” You whispered. A gentle breeze caressed your skin, giving you goosebumps.

First Realisation of Feelings

The 7th grade school dance, where the room is cramped and hot, full of hormonal preteens to early teenagers. Not exactly the place Jisung expected to see you. You had often expressed your dislike for the majority of the grade and you never liked being in overcrowded places, the perfect word to describe the gymnasium that was decorated for the occasion. Yet here you were, standing in the corner, hands behind your back, looking down at your shoes and playing with the hem of your dress. Jisung quickly ditched the conversation he was having with Sungchan and Chenle and made a b-line towards you. You were glad he saw you. You didn’t want to be here, only here by force from both your friends and your parents, your parents saying that you should socialise more outside of school hours and your friends saying it would be fun. However, your friends had made a b-line to the boys they liked from the grade, leaving you to stand there awkwardly until you could no longer stand watching your friend drooling over quite arguably the biggest jerk in the grade. As for your parents’ word, the only thing you could think to tell them is ‘why socialise when I’m most comfortable around the clumsiest boy in the class?’

“Hi,” Jisung said, the same awkward smile on his lips.

“Hi,” You replied. You didn’t need to be a psychic to know that Jisung wasn’t exactly here on his own terms, most likely only here for Chenle (who you had since reconciled with after the incident in first grade) 

“You told me you weren’t coming,” He pointed out, trying to get rid of the slight awkwardness in the air. Why was it so awkward? It wasn’t normally like this.

“I wasn’t until I was made to by my friends and my parents,” You explained, shooting a glance to your friends, who were practically at each of their respective male attention giver’s beck and call. Why were they your friends again? “Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” You brought attention to the sudden rise in the temperature, fanning your neck as you looked around for a possible air source, more so, a possible way out. Jisung nodded. He didn’t feel hot, but the gymnasium was cramped, and there were a lot of warm bodies inside of it, so he didn’t blame you. 

“Yeah, let’s go outside. The breeze is really nice out there.” 

After checking that the coast was clear of any members of faculty that might force you and Jisung to go back inside the gym, you ran to the gardens, a place that was quite pretty. Right next to the school flowed a river, which connected to the parent pick up area, accessible by bridge. You and Jisung stood side by side, watching your reflections ripple with the current of the water. The moonlight danced prettily with the water, creating a type of reflection that Jisung had only ever seen in movies. The cool summer breeze brushed against his skin, diminishing the sweat on his forehead. 

Then he looked at you. 

Your hair was lifted off your shoulders by the wind, the moon casting a silvery shadow across your face, fitting neatly across your facial features like a glove, but his breaking point was when you looked at him. It was as if someone had taken all of the stars in the galaxy and placed them one by one in your eyes. You looked so...beautiful. His heart rate increased dramatically and he was sure there was an intense blush that spread from his cheeks to his ears. Did he always feel like this when he saw you? Surely not. His heart had never raced like this before, and he definitely had never felt so speechless. What could this all mean? Could he...like you? “Hello? Earth to Park Jisung?” Your voice cleared the clouds of doubt from his mind as he finally closed his gaping mouth. “Are you okay? Do I need to tell a teacher?” You asked, a slight furrow in your brow appearing out of concern.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second.” He looked away in embarrassment, his eyes drifting over his reflection. Oh God, he was blushing. “The view was pretty and I guess started daydreaming.” 

“Were you daydreaming about someone?” You asked simply, before a smile broke across your face. “Were you daydreaming about me?” Jisung almost choked on his spit at your words.

“Was not!” Your laughter only picked up in volume, Jisung having to shush you and remind you that you were not supposed to leave the gym. 

“I’m only teasing you, I know you wouldn’t daydream about people. You just like to think about video games and food.”

“Hey, I do not! What’s with the Jisung slander?” You laughed. Something about your laugh was addicting, like a song he had just discovered and was unable to stop the lyrics from playing in your head. 

It’s been three weeks since the dance and you and Jisung were in the library, studying. Well, if you were to classify copying your science homework as homework because he had completely forgotten about it. You were currently working on your analysis for your Literature class, reading over the assessment outline to make sure you could get the best grade possible. You looked over and Jisung and he looked so relaxed. His round glasses perched comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his eyes scanning your answers before jotting them down onto his own page, his fingers wrapped firmly around his pen, and his lips pushed into a little pout as he concentrated. He looked so laid back, so relaxed despite the fact he had nearly had a heart attack when you told him that the homework was due by your next class, which didn’t give him enough time to do it at home. With your thoughts swimming through your head and so far into your daydream, you hadn’t noticed that his head had picked up and you were now staring (quite awkwardly) at each other.

“Is there something on my face?” Jisung asked, trying desperately to break the awkwardness between you two. You shook your head rapidly, assuring him that his appearance was fine and you had just spaced out. Well, you hadn’t completely lied. His appearance did look fine, and you had spaced out, you had just decided to leave out the reasoning as to why you had spaced out. 

Your cheeks burned harshly, like you were sitting in direct sunlight at the beach without any sunscreen. Is this what a developing crush felt like? Surely not. There’s no way you could have a crush on your best friend. That was weird, according to your friends, but then again, these were the same friends that said that you and Jisung were perfect for each other, so you don’t think they are a very credible source. 

Was this how crushes develop? Yes. Yes it was 

First Confession

Sophomore year of high school. People are calming down from exam week, finally getting the recommended hours of sleep after the countless number of all nighters that were pulled to cram, drinking water instead of the copious amounts of caffeine. The autumn air was starting to set in and the leaves were starting to fall, catching the wind and creating a train for oranges and browns. You and Jisung were walking home from school, your head pounding after the amount of brain power wasted on several test packages that weighed too heavily on your overall grade in your opinion. 

“How about we go get ice cream and go to the park? My treat to the both of us working so hard?” You suggested, turning to the equally emotionally drained best friend beside you. At the mention of a delicious sweet treat, his head perked up and he nodded.

“Yes! Anything to stop my head from hurting,” His lips formed the most relieved smile, your pulse increasing at the sight. In an attempt to calm your racing heartbeat, you watched the leaves, long fallen from the huge oak trees that towered over you, crunch underneath your feet, a little bit of stress releasing each time you stepped in them. Jisung seemed to pick up on this, his smile taking on a playfully mischievous role. He raced ahead of you and jumped, his feet landing firmly in a pile of leaves. The dead leaves flew up around him, creating a skirt of sorts around his waist. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, a stupidly large smile shared between the two of you. 

“Come on, let’s get this ice cream before the store closes. We’ll never get there if you keep acting like you’ve never seen leaves before,” You rolled your eyes, continuing down the path, your back now facing Jisung. He jogged to your side, bumping your hip with his when he did.

“You don’t know that.”

“We have literally been friends since we were 5, I think I would know,” Jisung cursed inwardly after taking a second to process what you had said. 

“T-That’s not fair and I- hey! Hey! Wait up!” 

Walking down a simple path in the park, the bumpy texture of the wafer cone in your hand, and the occasional playful cheers of children and dog passing by was simply relaxing. The simplicity of the noises of everyday life, the perfect natural remedy for an exam induced headache. 

You and Jisung came across a beautiful area that overlooked the huge lake in the middle of the park, a popular skating attraction during the winter. There were a few ducks waddling around the water’s edge, a few gliding gracefully along the water and few attempting to ruin a couple’s picnic by stealing their sandwiches. As you sat down on the ground, the crisp breeze whipped lightly across your face, you were relaxed, almost completely forgetting about the exams you had taken only hours earlier. 

Jisung was staring at you, he was sure of it. In fact, he’s pretty sure that the elderly couple sitting metres away from the both of you would see it. He followed your gaze when your eyes fell on the most adorable mother duck, being followed by her clumsy ducklings. You liked the one at the back the most, always the most clumsy. You turned to Jisung, a teasing smirk dripping from your lips.

“You see the one at the end?” You pointed to the duckling, whose little webbed foot had caught on a twig, sending it rolling onto its side. Jisung nodded. “That would be you as a duck. The overly clumsy baby of the family,” Jisung’s eyes widened in slight offense at your comment.

“What do you mean? I’m not clumsy!” He tried to defend himself, only gaining a snort from you.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” You said sarcastically, looking back towards the ducks. Between the time you had turned away to tease Jisung and right now, another duck had come back in search of it’s sibling. The duckling looked curiously at the fallen duck, before turning its head and let out high pitched quacks to its mother and signalling her to come back. Jisung watched as the mother duck picked the duckling up by the scruff of the neck and put it back on its feet. 

“And if you were a duck, that would be you. Always looking out for the clumsy one,” He commented, watching the family waddle off to a different area of the park. Taking another spoonful of his ice cream (you refused to let him get a cone. With how accident-prone he was, there was only fate for that poor ice cream cone, and it involved Jisung dropping ice cream down his crisp white shirt) before sighing. 

“Ducks are cute like you too,” He thought out loud, forgetting that the you in question was sitting right next to him. 

“Did you say something?” You asked.

“I-I said ducks are cute, and then I stopped talking!” Real smooth, Park. 

“Right…” You said, knowing damn well that isn’t what he said, but you didn’t wish to press further. “My legs are asleep, let’s walk a little more.” You suggested, almost leaping from your spot on the ground. Jisung scrambled to stand up too, his ice cream almost slipping through his fingers. 

You walked for what felt like miles, talking about everything under the sun. You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you were facing the street, with the name of your street written in printed letters on the sign. 

“Guess my legs knew it was getting late before I did. I should probably get home before my mom yells at me. See you at school tomorrow, right?” Before you could walk away, you felt a hand on your wrist. Jisung’s hand. 

“Wait, I need to tell you something,” Jisung’s voice sounded desperate, like if he didn;t say this now, it would kill him. 

“What? Did you leave your jacket at the park again?” You tried to joke, but Jisung’s eyes just pleaded with you.

“Please just listen,” Jisung said, his tone coming out a lot sterner than he had meant to. He exhaled deeply before placing both of his hands in yours, his head swimming with thoughts. 

“I like you.” His eyes, his tone, the slight smile on his lips. They all were dripping with sincerity. 

“What-” 

“I like you. I don’t expect you to accept my feelings but I just really needed to get this off my chest because I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while and-”

“I like you too,” You interjected with a smile, squeezing Jisung’s hand.

“Y-You do?” He repeated your words in his head like a broken record, watching as you gave him a confident nod. 

“Yes. Now, can I go home now?” Jisung flustered himself and nodded, letting go of your hand and waving as you disappeared down your street. His cheeks were glowing red, surely resembling a firefly. You liked him too? He felt like a giddy schoolboy, a smile plastered on his face. This was quite possibly the best day of his life.

First Date

“No, no. Absolutely not, I refuse,” Jisung screeched as you swung into an empty parking space in the car park of the ice skating rink. You giggled evilly to yourself. 

“You said I get to pick the location of our date, and I choose the ice rink,” You reminded him smugly, giving him a sickly sweet smile. You sunk down in his seat, grumbling unheard profanities as he knew you were right. He had given you the power to choose where you two would have a date together, a power he was now regretting giving you. 

“Lighten up, will you? One ice skating session isn’t going to kill you,” You rolled your eyes, making your way towards the entrance to the building. 

“I seriously doubt it,” He grumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

There weren’t many others on the rink, some small children with their parents, the odd couple or two, but it was quiet. Well, quiet customer wise.

“Don’t let go of me! I’m too young to die!” Jisung squeaked, your arm wrapped in a death grip from the boy.

“Jisung, you’re not gonna die, not on my watch,” You assured him, helping him up as his knees shook like a newborn giraffe. You were able to shake the grip he had on your arm and hold both of his hands before skating backwards very slowly. “You trust me, right?” “More than anything,” He affirmed. You smiled and tugged him along, giving him perfect momentum to stay on his two feet. You swung yourself around so you were now skating besides him, intertwining your fingers together like puzzle pieces. Gliding together, you felt like you were skating in the middle of a snowy escape, a winter wonderland. You felt as if you were skating with the Snow Kingdom’s prince (except if the Snow Prince didn’t know how to skate) and the snow was falling gently around you delicately. 

This fantasy ended when your hand was jerked backwards. Your skates hit an oddly slipping part of the ice, causing you to slip over and fall promptly on the ground, finding yourself face to face with the culprit, your clumsy boyfriend. 

“Heh, sorry,” He apologised, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any kind of unamused emotion towards the boy, only bursting into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re too darn cute,” you admitted, knees knocking as you got back onto your feet. You extended your hand, offering it to Jisung as assistance to get him back on his feet. 

“Do you wanna try again?” It was more of a suggestion than a question, but you still hesitated, afraid of him saying no.

“What are my chances of getting a concussion?” The boy joked, a bright and gummy smile breaking across his face. You stifled a laugh.

“Pretty high when you assess the situation,” You answered in an amused tone. Jisung suddenly pulled you closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. His slender fingers were freezing cold against the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to mind all that much. You could see him having an inner battle with himself before grinning in victory. He leaned closer to you, placing a peck to the numbed tip of your nose. Your heart fluttered like it had been caught up in a whirlwind of butterfly wings, delicately carrying them to a higher level than before. You swore you were giving Jisung really obvious heart eyes, but from the way he was looking at you, the exchange must’ve been mutual. 

Jisung finally pulled himself together, slow realisation sinking in of what he had just done. “S-Sorry,” he apologised softly, his fingers slipping away from your cheek. You caught it, bringing it down to the height of your shoulder and intertwining your fingers with his. 

“Don’t be,” you said cooly, cautiously skating towards the exit to the rink. “I’m starving. Let’s go find lunch. You can pick this time,” you smiled cheerily at him. He snuck a glance to you as he untied the laces of his ice skates. There was something about your smile that was so enchanting, sort of subtle, and perfect, and real. He couldn’t help but wonder if you even knew how wonderful your smile could make someone feel. Especially a someone like Jisung, someone who would find elegance and serenity in the tiniest things you do. He cursed his heart for fluttering stupidly fast, not that it heeded his thoughts, only beating harder the more he stared at you.

“Let’s go,” You announced, extending your hand to him. He grabbed it without a second thought. This felt like home to him, with someone who meant the world to him.

First Kiss

“Jisung, this is crazy! My parents will find out about this!” You whisper-yelled at Jisung, reluctantly throwing on your coat and shoes. Jisung smiled like a fool, feeling like a modern day Romeo as he waited on your front porch. You threw the front door open, seeing your boyfriend, absolutely drenched from head to toe with rain. The rain had been falling heavily for half an hour, so you couldn’t help but wonder what inside his mind decided that he would walk to your neighbourhood in the pouring rain just to see you?

“Jisung, it’s two in the morning. Why are you here?” You interrogated once you shut the door.

“I wanted to see you. Is that such a crime?” He countered, a sly smile resting on his pretty lips. You scoffed, playfully pushing him away. Jisung took a few paces back, extending his long fingers to you.

“Huh?” You vocalised your confusion.

“Come dance with me,” He said, waiting patiently. You hesitated for a moment. You feared the fact that your parents would definitely ground you if they found out that you were escapading at ridiculous hours of the night just to be with a boy, but on the other hand, this was Jisung you were talking about. The night, or morning if you were to be technical, wasn’t getting any younger and nor were you. In that moment, you didn’t care if your parents found out about your late night adventures. You grabbed Jisung’s hand and smiled.

“Show me to the dance floor,” You announced confidently.

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. Running and shoving each other in the rain, willingly. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only light to remind that the world was still there were the dim streetlights, illuminating only within its reach before fading back into darkness.

You danced under the streetlamp, your very own spotlight. You risked the chances of a cold, for the feeling of freedom, to be two dumb kids, fooling around at forsaken hours of the night. You had a smile to your ears and your laughter rang out loudly throughout the slumbering neighbourhood. You squealed when he pulled you closer to him by your hips. Your hands instinctively rested on his shoulders, eyes focusing on him, the water droplets that fell from his soaking wet hair and the goofy smile on his lips.

The laughter that the two of you died down, both of you completely infatuated by the other. How pretty they looked with raindrops kissing their skin, how their eyes sparkled when the light hit them at this angle. Jisung bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation. What if he was reading the signs wrong? What if you didn’t want to? He cautiously leaned forward, and you followed suit. Your lips met briefly before Jisung pulled away, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or disgust. Instead, he was met with your eyes sparkling brightly, a huge smile breaking across your face. 

“You kissed me,” You said, slightly astonished at Jisung’s bravery.

“Yeah, I did,” He mumbled, trying to come to terms with the event that just played out in front of him.

“Do it again,” You egged.

“Excuse me?” His eyes blew wide at your comment.

“Kiss me again.”

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only two people in your world. 

First Time Falling in Love

The stars twinkled brightly in the dark sky above, like silver glitter that had been thrown into the depths of space. You admired the stars, wishing you could fly up there for a second just to dance among them. It was your calming activity before bed, talking to the stars about your day, especially if it wasn’t particularly a good day. The best part about today however, was that you weren’t gazing up into space in your bedroom, instead lying in the grass with the cool breeze on top of a hill that overlooked the city lights, and you weren’t gazing up into space alone, instead in company of your boyfriend, Jisung.

The two of you had spent the last hour and a half stargazing, talking about everything and anything, the big things like school systems, and the little things like the ladybird that had crawled it’s way up a blade of grass before taking flight above you. You were sleepy and ready to go home. You and Jisung were standing, facing each other, giving the sky one more quick glance before you left. When your vision came back down, you met Jisung’s eyes. They were pretty, a dark chocolate brown, the type of brown that when light hits them at just the right angle, they turn into pools of honey. They were entrancing, glittering, beautiful. It seems like he was just as entranced by your gaze as you were his, as the both of you stood in silence. Finally, Jisung mustered up enough courage like the day he asked you out, and cupped your face. His hands pressed flush against your cheeks, feeling the warmth from your blush underneath them. His lips parted and closed again, like he was trying to tell you something but was second guessing himself.

“I think,” Jisung started, trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” You laughed softly, your eyes flickering from his eyes down to his lips, so full and kissable. Without a second to think, he pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, a kiss full of sweetness and amateur love, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two of you broke away and smiled. “Shall we go home now?” You asked with lovestruck eyes. He noticed. He smiled.

“Yes, we better,”

You were maybe just a little bit in love with Park Jisung.

First Argument

You can only recount one argument with Jisung. 

You sat there at the cafe, looking around nervously for him. The constant checks of your phone and the cafe door every time the bell rang to signify a new customer, you silently hoped it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t do this to you. You refused to believe it. There was no way, right? There was no way Park Jisung had forgotten your date, right?

Wrong.

“Jeno, has anyone ever told you, you suck at MarioKart?” Chenle asked teasingly, pillow colliding with his head, which caused Toad to fly off the edge of the course. Jisung laughed hysterically, tears forming in his eyes as he drove Yoshi to victory. Amongst the commotion going on inside, the doorbell rang. Renjun, who was not participating in his friends’ antics, decided to answer it. Upon seeing you, he was a bit shocked to see you there. You barely showed up there, so to see you standing outside the door, with your coat folded between your arms and a displeased look on your face, took him by surprise.

“Jisung, it’s for you,” Renjun called into the door, abandoning you at the threshold to take over Jisung’s controller. 

When your boyfriend saw you, he smiled with a twinkle of confusion in his eye.

“Hey, what are you doing here? We were just playing MarioKart if you-”

“You forgot, didn’t you?” You interrupted bitterly, boring holes in his soul from your gaze alone. Jisung looked at you for a second, trying to comprehend the words that had left your lips moments ago. 

“Is it your birthday?” Jisung asked stupidly. Anger flashed in your eyes before you grabbed him by the shoulder of his t-shirt and tugged him out of the dorm. With the door now acting as a barrier between the argument and the fun his friends were having, you could now speak freely.

“3pm, Culture Cafe. Does this mean anything to you?” You interrogated, your tone bitter and upset, a lethal combination. Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, wracking his brains to try and make connections between the two. 

“Our date, Jisung! Our fucking date!” You yelled at him, growing bored of watching him try and remember. “We planned this three days ago, how can you not remember?” Your voice softened in disbelief. “It was just this one thing, but instead I come here and find you playing video games with your friends.” The more you spoke, the more tears blurred your vision. 

Jisung swore he heard his heart break when he saw a fat tear roll down your cheek. He had caused those tears, over just how forgetful he really is.

“If there was a more sincere way of saying sorry, I would say it. I can’t think of the words to-” Jisung was cut off by your sobs. He immediately panicked, grasping your shoulders, feeling like a kicked puppy. “No, no, no, baby don’t cry. I promise I’ll-”

“I can’t be here any longer. Just give me a few days,” you used those words as your salutations of farewell, turning on your heel and walking away from him. You silently screamed at yourself for getting so upset over a stupid date, but this wasn’t like Jisung. He was so adamant about not forgetting the important things, so why would he forget this? 

It had been five days since the confrontation with Jisung, and you had not spoken to him since. You left him on read with every text message, and deleted every voicemail he left you. You acknowledged you may be acting a bit brashly, but you wanted him to feel the same forgotten feeling that sat in the bottom of your stomach when he left alone at that cafe. 

You wanted Jisung to apologise. You just didn’t expect him to apologise the way he did.

Your doorbell rang repetitively, clearly trying to divide your attention from your comfort show. You reluctantly stood up from your comfy spot on the couch, and walked towards the door. Upon opening it, you saw a boy with dark dishevelled hair with a cake in hand. The cake was messily decorated and seemed a bit squashed, but you could still tell it was supposed to be a heart shape. 

“Is this your way of apologising?” You asked him monotonously, your eyes still on the cake. Jisung nodded. His eyes seemed puffy.

“I don’t mean to ruin the apology, but why does the cake look a bit…”

“Squished?” Jisung finished, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Chenle, the stupid ass, sat on the box before I left. All my hard work, now flattened,” He gave a half hearted chuckle before silencing himself.

“Look, I am really, really sorry. I was stressing, and the boys thought it would be a good idea if I spent time out of my room and play some games with them to stop moping around, and I didn’t realise how fast the time went and I forgot about our date and then I felt horrible and I-” He rambled on, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He stopped when he heard you giggle, a soft, almost whimsical sound. You took the cake box from him and smiled. 

“You put all of this work in, just for an apology?” You asked, a soft smile subconsciously creeping across your face. 

“You weren’t answering your phone, so I got desperate,” Jisung admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck at your reaction. You stepped forward to kiss his cheek, his skin warm against your lips. 

“So, am I forgiven?” He asked nervously, feeling cold sweat dribble down the back of his neck. 

“Depends. Are you gonna share this cake with me?” You countered, stepping aside to invite him in. 

“Who did you bribe to allow you in the kitchen by yourself?”

“Hey!”

First Dance

“Hurry up, we’re going to miss the sunset,” Jisung tugged you up the hill, sunlight casting over his face the higher he hiked up the mountain. You let out a tired laugh as you allowed him to drag you up the mountain. Once you reached the top, you finally understood why he wanted to show you this place. The view was spectacular. The sunset gave the landscape an orange hue to it, even the ocean sparkled like magnificent glitter. The orange specks glowed like millions of fireflies, creating a picture perfect landscape, one that belonged within the walls of a world famous museum. 

“This is stunning,” You sighed in awe, the dusk lighting flicking its rays into your irises. Jisung nodded firmly, pride bubbling in his chest at knowing he picked the perfect place.

“Baby?” He asked, hiding his shyness as best he could.

“Yeah?” You answered, eyes breaking away from the beautiful atmosphere to him. He held his hand out, suggesting something.

“Dance with me?” He asked politely, a pink tint colouring the tips of his ears. You giggled lightly.

“Dancing is meaningless without music,” You informed, warm breeze whipping past the exposed parts of your skin. Jisung whipped out his phone, briefly tapped on the screen and waited before a soft and calming song played from the speakers. He slipped it into his back pocket, quickly taking your left hand in his right, his left hand coming down to rest on your waist and steadily rocking you to the melody. Your head rested against his chest, inhaling his warm scent. He smelt of fresh cotton sheets and something else that can only be described as the sweetest fruit of the summer. 

The moment felt like a scene out of a fairytale, a nonsensical world that only manifested in the creative young minds of children, however the way the gentle breeze kissed your cheek and ruffled your hair, the last of the sun’s rays pressed a warm glow to your skin, it felt too real to be make believe. 

Jisung twirled you around on the spot, a giggle escaping your lips as you fell gracefully against his chest. As you spun around to face him again, the look in his eyes could only be truly explained with one word; ‘Lovestruck’, like his whole world revolved around you. You were his moon, his stars, his world. You might as well have been his whole solar system, dammit. He pressed a soft chaste kiss your lips, pulling away and leaving only centimeters between the both of you.

“I love you,” Jisung’s face lit up like the fireflies that played in the valley beneath you. You cracked a giddy smile, lacing your fingers with him.

“I love you too,” You requited, realising that the song you were originally dancing to had faded out some time ago, only dancing along to the beat of each other’s heart. He laughed at this discovery, holding you closer and hearing the faint drum of your thumping heart. He hummed to himself as thoughts of you swam through his head, but only one stuck out to him. It was less of a thought and more like an idea, a wish, a dream, a promise.

It goes on like this for a couple of weeks. Whenever either of you can spare the time, you meet up for a meal or a drink, and, of course, a hookup. You’ve yet to invite him back to yours—and honestly, you can’t help but think it should stay that way, at least for now—and you’ve also yet to meet each other’s friends. But, whatever, right? It’s a fling, so it’s not a big deal.

Secretly, you want to. He mentions his buddies in passing—some names have become familiar to you: Mark, Jaehyun, Ten—and he knows a couple of your friends by name as well (“Sorry, I can’t tonight, I’m seeing a movie with Emily.” “Oh okay, tell her hi for me!”), but that’s about the extent of it.

So you’re not exactly sure what to think when Johnny sends you an ambiguous and slightly ominous text message.

hey please tell me you’re not busy this weekend

I’m not, you reply, a little concerned by his tone. Why?

I’m hosting a party, he replies, and you roll your eyes, relieved. Lots of my friends are coming. Bring yours too, if you can.

I thought it was an emergency or something lol, you type back. Sounds good tho. When?

It IS an emergency 🙄 Friday night, at mine. Come around 9.

What should I wear? you ask.

whatever makes you feel sexy, he responds, and you press your lips together. i trust your judgement.

You rope in a couple of your friends—Emily and Celine—and Friday evening finds the three of you getting ready at your place.

“I can’t wait to meet this guy,” Celine says. “Think he has any hot friends?”

Emily rolls her eyes. “I still don’t trust him,” she says. “He still sounds like a serial killer to me.”

“Well, he hasn’t serial-killed me yet, so I don’t really think he’s planning on it,” you point out, giggling.

“I’m just worried it’s going to be really fancy,” Celine says, rearranging her hair in the mirror. “He’s super rich.”

“He’s chill, though,” you say. “Stop worrying. I’m sure it’ll be more like a frat party, just cleaner and probably with better alcohol.” You spin in front of them, showing off the silk, thigh-length, champagne-colored slip dress you’ve picked out. It’s simple; sort of body-con, with a cowl neckline and an asymmetrical hem. You found strappy gold stilettos to match, though you’re grateful Johnny runs an Asian household—an excuse to take them off at the door before they start killing your feet. “You’re both dressed better than me. This is, like, one step up from a nightgown.”

“Well, you have an excuse,” Emily points out. “You’re staying over.” Celine giggles.

“Oh, come on.” You nudge them both. “You guys look great. And if Johnny does have any hot friends—which I have to assume he does—I’m sure they’ll fall all over themselves for you.”

You’re taking the bus so that all of you can drink, which poses a slight problem because Emily’s slow at putting on makeup. You miss the bus that would get you to Johnny’s a few minutes past nine, so now you’re taking the one that arrives at your stop at nine.

“Fashionably late?” Celine suggests helpfully as you finally make your way outside.

“Oh, sure.” Your teeth chatter as the cold hits you and you huddle against her. “Oh my god, Emily,” you add as she strides in front of both of you in her thin, unzipped coat, apparently unaffected by the cold. “How are you not freezing?”

“Hoes don’t get cold!” she replies, turning so you can see that she’s sticking her tongue out at you. Celine chuckles while you roll your eyes.

The bus ride is uneventful, but that’s the last bit of peace the three of you get for the night. Celine and Emily gasp over the lobby of Johnny’s building, murmuring to each other when the doorman just nods at you with a welcoming smile.

“Oh my god,” Emily hisses as all of you step into the elevator. “Can I rob him? We can totally rob him, right? Wanna do an Ocean’s, uh, Three?”

You laugh as you press the fob to the sensor on the elevator wall. “I told him I’d rob him if I didn’t already know him personally the first time I came here,” you say. “I don’t think there’s any way for us to do it without him tracing it back to me immediately.”

“A shame,” Celine says neutrally.

You can hear the faint booming of bass as soon as you exit the elevator, even though the doors between the mudroom and Johnny’s main apartment are closed. You all discard your coats and shoes, and then you knock loudly on the double doors in front of you and wait.

Johnny pulls them open, grinning when his eyes land on you. The music floods out into the little space, reverberating in your chest. “Hey,” he says. “Glad you could make it.” He turns his attention to your friends briefly. “I’m Johnny,” he says, offering his hand to shake.

Your friends introduce themselves while you peer past Johnny into his darkened apartment. Over the music, you hear the clamoring of voices. What catches your eye, though, is a table set up just a few feet behind Johnny. You squint. There are a couple of rows of full shot glasses, and a sign behind them that reads “ENTRY FEE: 1 SHOT”. You snort.

“Oh, yes,” Johnny says, following your gaze. “If you would. House rules.”

He steps aside so you can file in, and the three of you huddle around the table to grab your shots. “What is it?” you ask, not sure if you want to smell it to find out.

Johnny gives you a reassuring smile. “It’s a watermelon vodka,” he says. “Don’t worry, it’s good.”

Emily stretches her shot glass out for you and Celine to clink, and you down them together. Johnny’s right. It is good; it’s smooth and hardly stings.

“Well, with that out of the way,” Johnny says, gesturing you towards the hall, “please, follow me.”

You follow him, and see that he’s turned his dining room and kitchen areas into, just as you assumed, a fancy frat party. Music blares from his speakers, and his friends mill around with drinks in hand, laughing and shouting.

“C’mon, let me introduce you guys!” Johnny shouts over the music. He reaches out for the shoulder of a medium-height guy who’s talking to a taller guy with gentle, pretty features. “This is Mark!” Johnny says about the shorter one. “And that’s Jungwoo! Guys, this is Y/N. And these are her friends, Emily and Celine.”

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you!” you say, waving.

“Woah, dude, you are tall,” Mark says, sweeping his eyes from you to your friends. “All of you.”

“Really?” Emily teases drily. “We’ve never noticed. That’s crazy.” Mark stammers while Johnny and Jungwoo laugh.

“Okay, c’mon,” Johnny says, leading you away.

“Are we the last to arrive?” you ask him as you round the corner of his dining table.

“No, god, no,” Johnny says, laughing. “Plenty more people are still on their way.” You’re approaching a couple—a guy who looks to be around Johnny’s age, and a woman, who seems a bit older. “Hey Taeyong, Rin. Meet my friends.”

You say your hellos. The rest of the introductions go this way, though if you’re being honest, you can’t really remember any of their names. The music is loud, and it’s dark, and you’re not known for your memory. Still, it doesn’t really matter. You know you’ll have plenty of time tonight to relearn them.

Johnny finally takes you to the kitchen and offers you drinks. “I’ve been away from the door for too long,” he says as he slides some cups to the three of you. “And I have people texting me, I can feel my phone buzzing in my pocket. Make yourselves at home, okay?” He leans in and kisses you on the cheek quickly before disappearing into the hall.

“Well,” Emily says, reaching for the whiskey. “At the very least, he has good taste in alcohol.”

“True,” Celine agrees, holding her cup out for Emily to pour.

You go for the vodka—Grey Goose, which is a luxury to you but bottom shelf to Johnny, so you don’t feel too bad—and pour a healthy amount into your cup before turning to peruse the mixers.

“I kinda liked that first guy we met,” Emily is saying. “Mark. He seemed a little nerdy, but, like, nice.”

“You’re either saying that because he’s the only one you can remember, or because you made him blush,” Celine replies. You aren’t facing them, but you can picture her rolling her eyes, and you smile to yourself.

“Not true, I remember Taeil, too! He was the last one!” Emily protests through giggles.

It’s nice, finally having your friends in this space with you, filling what has up until this point felt like an elaborate daydream with their laughter and their company. It cements this whole fling with Johnny more solidly in your life.

“Shall we try to be sociable, then?” Emily asks when you turn around, swirling your drink in your cup to mix it.

“We shall,” Celine answers for the both of you, and you head back into the dining room.

Understandably, you end up getting separated almost immediately—you see Emily head in Mark’s direction, while Celine wanders over to a few of the guys who are gathered at the window.

“Hey, Y/N, right?” You turn, and see someone you were definitely introduced to not ten minutes ago smiling at you. You recognize his dimples. Pretty sure he was also a J name, you think, scrambling for the whole thing in your head. He seems to sense your panic, though. “I’m Jaehyun. Don’t worry, no one expects you to remember all of us at once,” he says.

“Jaehyun, yes,” you repeat, hoping it’ll help it stick. “How d’you and Johnny know each other?”

“We went to school together,” Jaehyun says. “Most of us did. Actually, Kun’s the only person Johnny met through work.”

“And—Ten, that’s Kun’s boyfriend, right?” you ask. Jaehyun nods. “Did he meet Johnny through Kun?”

“No, actually,” Jaehyun says, laughing. “Ten and Johnny are childhood best friends. Ten met Kun through Johnny.”

You nod, trying not to frown. The number of things you don’t know about Johnny still is a little upsetting. Granted, you’re not in an official relationship. And it’s not like Johnny tries to hide his life from you. But meeting his friends feels like meeting a new side of Johnny that you weren’t aware of. It’s not a bad side, it’s just unfamiliar.

The music quiets a little, and you look up to see Johnny following a few more guests into the dining room. “That’s everyone!” he says cheerfully.

“Beer pong!” One of his friends calls from the other corner of the room. “C’mon!”

Johnny’s smile is blinding; for a moment, it’s like catching a glimpse of him when he was younger—just another handsome frat boy with a trust fund. Somehow, it’s kind of endearing. You find yourself smiling too as you watch him and a couple friends set up, cups and beer appearing out of nowhere.

“You any good at pong?” Jaehyun asks, drawing your attention away from the commotion.

“Pretty good,” you reply. “Why?”

“Team up with me,” he requests. “Johnny kinda sucks, anyway.”

“I—I’d feel bad to leave him hanging,” you protest.

“It’s more fun to compete against your person than with them, though, right?” Jaehyun points out, and you have to admit he’s right.

“I’ll let him know.” You pad over to Johnny, who’s carefully measuring beer out into the Solo cups.

“Hey,” Johnny says. “Lemme guess: Jaehyun’s already told you I’m terrible at pong.”

“Ah, yes,” you reply. “And as someone who’s great at pong, I’m left with a horrible quandary. Do I do the smart thing, and team up with a guy who could help me win, or do I follow my heart and help you not lose?”

Johnny stands up, setting the empty beer bottle aside. “Team up with him,” he says, a genuine smile on his face. “I’ll take one of your friends. And maybe if I beat you, Jaehyun’ll stop telling everyone I can’t play.”

“Ask Celine,” you suggest. “She plays basketball.”

“Oh, you can’t take it back now,” Johnny says, wiggling his eyebrows, “but shouldn’t you, like, not be helping me? Because from here on out, anything goes.”

“Okay, you’re on, Seo,” you agree, standing a little taller as you turn to give Jaehyun a thumbs-up. He smiles, all dimples, giving you a thumbs-up in return.

Jungwoo draws up some brackets, and the first round begins. It’s one of the new arrivals, paired with Taeyong, against Emily and Mark. You see Taeyong’s partner, Rin, sidle up next to the girl that walked in with Taeyong’s teammate, and decide to join them.

“Hi,” Rin says warmly when she sees you approaching. “Simone, this is Y/N, Johnny’s, ah, friend.”

Simone offers you a sweet smile. “I started as, ‘Yuta’s, ah, friend,’ so don’t worry,” she says, mimicking Rin. 

“Sorry,” Rin says, grinning. “I’m usually a little removed from these gatherings. Taeyong wanted me here today, though, and I can never say no to him.”

“Rin is Taeyong’s sugar-mommy-turned-real-girlfriend,” Simone informs you with a sort of conspiratorial look in her eye. Rin splutters out laughter. “But I mean, thank god. Yuta and I have been dating for about a year now, and for the first six months I was the only girl at these parties.”

You hear shouts from the table, and turn back to watch the game. Emily isn’t very good at pong, and it seems Mark is worse. They’re getting absolutely destroyed by Yuta and Taeyong—somehow, they’re both incredible. You watch Yuta line up his shot. He cocks an eyebrow, squinting, his tongue poking at the inside of one of his cheeks, and shoots. It lands squarely in one of Emily and Mark’s cups, and Emily groans, picking it up and draining it while Mark rearranges their remaining cups.

“Poor Emily,” Rin says with a light smile. “She would’ve been better off pairing up with pretty much anybody else in this room. Well,” she adds. “Maybe anyone but me.”

“Mm, I dunno,” Simone says. “I think anybody could beat Mark.”

“Well,” you say, suppressing laughter as Emily misses her next shot. “Emily’s not much better, so I think it’s for the best. Consolidate the lack of skill.” You tilt your head. “You guys don’t play?”

“No,” Simone says, laughing. “I’m pretty bad. But at least I have the decency to admit it. Plus, I can get drunk on my own.”

“And I’m driving us home,” Rin supplies. “So I figured… best not.”

Soon, Taeyong and Yuta have secured a clean win, and you and Jaehyun are up against Johnny and Celine. Rin and Simone wish you luck before turning to shower their boys in congratulations.

“Let’s go,” Jaehyun mutters, offering you a high-five. And so, the game begins.

Johnny’s not as bad as Jaehyun led you to believe. He makes his first shot, which you drink for. But you make yours, too, and he misses his second one, so you’re not too worried about him. You’re worried about Celine’s impeccable aim instead.

Luckily, though you and Jaehyun are not quite as good as Celine, you’re both better than Johnny, and you keep up, even pulling ahead a few times. By the time you’re down to the last few cups, side conversations around the room have trailed off and everyone is watching intently.

Johnny sinks one off a bounce. You miss your next one, and Celine makes hers, and Johnny is crowing, his eyes never leaving yours. It’s just a game of beer pong, but you’re tense, and you watch as Jaehyun saves you both, making his shot easily.

Johnny misses his next one, amid jeering and boos from your spectators. You pick up a ping pong ball and blow on it for luck.

“C’mon, Y/N,” Jaehyun says. “You can do it, let’s go.”

“Yeah, c’mon, Y/N!” Emily calls from the sidelines. Celine shoots her a look of pure betrayal, but you hardly notice.

You take a deep breath, aiming carefully, and release the ball. It takes a perfect arc through the air and bounces off of the rim of one of their cups and plops happily into the other. The room releases a breath, and suddenly you’re surrounded by excited screaming, while Johnny and Celine stare, dumbfounded.

“What happens if both Celine and Jaehyun make their next shots?” one of the guys asks.

“We just keep going until someone misses,” Jungwoo replies, dry-erase marker poised, ready to document the winner.

Celine and Jaehyun both make their shots. So do you and Johnny. Again, Celine and Jaehyun make their shots. And finally, finally, Johnny misses. Before the room can descend into chaos, Jungwoo shouts, “Wait, wait! Not yet. Y/N has to make this shot, since she finishes the round. If she makes it, she and Jaehyun get the game. Y/N, go ahead.”

You’re an athlete. You’re also an accomplished adult. You’ve taken standardized tests, had countless interviews, played many games of volleyball. But in this moment, you swear this is the tensest you’ve ever been. You hear ringing in your ears, even though in the back of your head, you know it’s kind of stupid. But you’re competitive to a fault, and you kind of want to put Johnny in his place in front of all his friends. So you breathe in, long and deep, and give yourself a shake.

And you shoot. And you do not miss.

The room erupts into cheers. Celine drops her head into her hands, laughing, while Johnny staggers backwards in a comical performance of his grief. You take Jaehyun’s hand, jumping and laughing, before releasing him to tend to Johnny’s wounded ego.

Luckily, given his easygoing nature, Johnny’s a good sport. He grins, stretching his arms out for a hug when he sees you approaching, eyes light with mirth. “I’ll never live it down,” he laments, “but that’s okay.”

Admittedly, the night gets a little patchy from there. You watch the next games, and then play and lose against Yuta and Taeyong. You don’t really mind though, because they end up winning the entire tournament, and that means Johnny breaks out champagne—real champagne, not prosecco. He brings a bottle over to you and tilts your head back with a finger. You open your mouth, grinning, and let him pour it in.

You remember pressing yourself up against him, back flush with his chest. Johnny’s big hands are secure on your hips, and you lean into his warmth and watch the rest of the party through half-lidded eyes. Rin is watching in bemusement, shoulder to shoulder with Kun, while Taeyong and Ten all but grind on each other; Yuta has his lips pressed to Simone’s neck, and she’s grinning; across the room, Yukhei, Jungwoo, and Jaehyun are trying to convince Doyoung to take another shot. You even see Emily dancing with Mark, and smile to yourself as you watch her twirl him while they both laugh. Celine is chatting with Sicheng and Taeil; they’re both bent over laughing at something she’s just said.

“Reminds me of college,” you say to Johnny, and he laughs in your ear. “Better—less messy. But still.”

“Well, that’s kind of the goal.” He turns you around so that you’re facing him. “Keeps us young, hm?”

“We’re not old,” you protest, but you’re laughing. “So you guys have these get-togethers often?”

“Whenever we can spare the time. We’re actually missing a couple of people today,” Johnny says. “Maybe if you come to the next one, you can meet them.”

“If?” you ask.

“If you can make it,” Johnny clarifies, his eyes finding yours. “You’ll be invited.”

“Scared me for a second there,” you mutter, and Johnny apologizes with a kiss.

It starts out chaste, but you both have too much alcohol in your system for anything to stay that way for long. By the time you break away, you’re out of breath and flushed, and Johnny’s eyes are dark.

“Anytime you want, we can go upstairs,” he says quietly. “They all know the way out.”

“It’s okay,” you say. “I can wait. I don’t wanna make you a bad host.”

“No, they knew this might happen,” Johnny says with a light chuckle. “Besides, I want you to myself for a little while. You look so good, you know. And I’ve never been good at sharing.”

“What, you mean you wouldn’t consider a threesome with one of your oldest friends?” you tease. “God, I never thought you’d be so vanilla.” This has the both of you shaking with laughter for a good minute.

But even though you feel a little bad about the prospect of tearing Johnny away from his party, you do want to escape upstairs. You’re warm from the alcohol and more than ready to collapse on Johnny’s big, beautiful bed and get your brains fucked out. So you catch your friends’ eyes, and kinda wave goodbye. Celine nods, waving back, and Emily mouths HAVE FUN!

“Okay, c’mon,” you mumble to Johnny. His white teeth flash in the dark as he smiles, almost predatory.

You stumble a little on your journey up the stairs, but it’s less to do with your drunkenness and more to do with the way Johnny’s trying to kiss you as you walk. He’s got an open bottle of champagne in the hand that isn’t on your waist, and you recognize faintly that if you didn’t know him as well, this would probably be a very poor decision.

But you and Johnny have talked about it, and come to the conclusion that you both really enjoy drunk sex, so you wipe the concerns from your mind. You find yourself giggling as you sit on the edge of Johnny’s bed while Johnny makes sure the door is locked. He takes a swig of champagne and then offers the bottle to you. You tip your head back and open your mouth, and he hums in the back of his throat.

“You’re okay with this, yeah?” he asks softly as he pours the champagne into your mouth.

“Mm-hm,” you agree. “You?”

“Of course,” he replies, setting the bottle carefully on the nightstand. Even Johnny, a notorious heavyweight, is a little unsteady on his feet, but there’s something about it that makes you suck in a sharp breath. It could just be that you like it messy. Or it’s the affirmation that he wants you, no matter what.

If you had worse friends, or if Johnny was a worse person, maybe you would’ve gone into tonight worrying that Emily or Celine would catch his eye, and he’d cast you aside. But you’re happy to have been proven right. Your friends are good people, and Johnny only has eyes for you.

Although, you realize as you pull your dress up over your head and then lay back, watching Johnny get undressed, it’s not like he and I are technically exclusive. I’m not seeing anybody else, and I don’t think he is, either, but we never said anything about it. So maybe I’m just jumping the gun a little.

But Johnny had said he wasn’t good at sharing. So maybe…

You don’t really get the chance to complete the thought. Johnny climbs onto the bed, and his teeth are on your neck, which means your brain gets to shut off for the time being. You moan, running your hands down his back, admiring the firm planes of muscles underneath your fingertips. Johnny nudges your legs apart with his knees so he can get closer, hands snaking back behind you to undo your bra as he sucks dark purple hickeys into your skin.

“That dress looks really good on you,” he murmurs as he sits back to discard your bra. “Makes your legs look extra long.”

“My legs are already extra long,” you point out, and his laughter rumbles deep in his chest. “But thank you,” you add, giggling. “You looked good tonight, too,” you add. “I like it when you do your hair like this, all slicked back except for a couple of strands in front. You look like a 50s heartthrob. One of those all-American greaser boys.”

“Shit, really? I was going for mafia boss,” he complains, and you snort.

“Okay, then you look like a mafia boss,” you concede. “You look hot, that’s all I’m saying.”

“Thank you, baby,” he says, sincere, though his tone is still tinged with amusement.

One of the most marked differences between the beginning and now is that you and Johnny no longer seem to be performing in front of each other. Banter comes easy, just like everything else. Even when he’s in the middle of working your panties off, the both of you otherwise naked, there’s a natural camaraderie that you had kind of started thinking didn’t actually exist.

He sticks two fingers in his own mouth, and presses them against your entrance, pushing in slowly to make sure he doesn’t hurt you. You sigh and gasp, cupping his jaw with one hand, stroking your thumb across his cheekbone. He curls his fingers a little, and grins when you choke out a surprised moan.

“Does it feel good, babygirl?” he asks, and you nod fervently. “Hey.” He smacks your hip lightly. “Use your words.”

“Yes, yes, sir,” you stammer, and he rewards with a couple of hard thrusts, dipping his head to kiss your stomach. Through your pleasure, you find yourself a little softhearted. He shows how much he likes you and your body so casually sometimes. You know it’s subconscious—he kissed you because he wanted to, not because he wanted to tell you you were beautiful, or something. But you kind of love how he doesn’t hide his attraction to you, how he lets you see and hear and feel how much you turn him on. He might playfully objectify you because he knows you like it, but he never devalues you. Once again, you’re struck by how lucky you are.

He’s added a third finger while you were ruminating, and he’s working them in and out of you with ease. You can feel how wet you are, and your head swims both from the alcohol and from lust.

Johnny pulls his fingers away and licks a flat stripe over your pussy, complete with a kiss to your clit, before sitting back completely. You give him a look of hurt and confusion, and he laughs. “Hang on,” he says, clambering off the bed and making his way to his closet. “I bought a toy last week.”

You watch him, now curious, as he ducks into the closet, reappearing momentarily with a vibrator in hand. You grin. “Oh, very fun,” you say. “Hey, have you ever given any thought to pegging?”

Johnny laughs as he rejoins you on the bed. “Maybe,” he says. “Think I’d make a good power bottom, is that it?”

“Don’t know til we try it, right?” you reply, kissing him. “Sorry, just got me thinking. I am excited about this.”

“Good,” Johnny says. “I am too.”

It’s only now, as you wait for him to prep himself, that you remember there’s still a party going on below. If you listen, you can hear the thrum of the music. Faintly, you wonder if you should be concerned about Johnny’s various expensive pieces of furniture, but Johnny remains unbothered, so you shove it from your mind.

You feel Johnny’s thumb against your clit, and you jump a little in surprise. He grins when your eyes find his. “Ready?”

“Yeah, hurry up,” you say, and he swats the back of your thigh a few times in rapid succession. “Sorry, sir,” you add when he’s finished, though you’re not very sorry at all.

“Yeah.” He knows you’re not, but he doesn’t do anything else, focused instead on lining himself up with your entrance.

You’d think, after all this time, maybe you’d get used to how fucking big Johnny is, but it catches you off-guard every time. Your eyes fly wide open as he pushes in, stretching you and stuffing you full.

Once you’re adjusted, and Johnny’s movements are easy, he reaches back for the vibrator, clicking it on as he presses it against your clit. You gasp reflexively, shuddering a little before settling against the pleasant buzzing.

“Good?” Johnny asks.

“More,” you demand. “Higher.”

He gives you a dubious look, but flicks it up a notch. You moan, half for show, giving him a lazy smile. “Is this my reward for kicking your ass at beer pong?”

Johnny pinches the skin of your inner thigh. “Stop being terrible,” he says, but he’s smiling. “You were showing off for me, don’t rub it in.”

“How do you know?” you ask jokingly. “What if I was showing off for Jaehyun?”

“Then I’d beat your ass black and blue,” Johnny says, his voice lower now. “I told you, I’ve never been good at sharing.”

“I’m kidding,” you say sweetly. “He’s too short, anyway.”

Johnny laughs in spite of himself. “And threatening to spank you isn’t much of a threat,” he admits. “You’d probably like it.”

“Yeah, you gotta get better at that,” you reply. He pinches again, harder, until you give a little yelp of pain. “I’m sorry, you’re the best dom in the world.”

“That’s better,” he says, rolling his eyes as he picks up the pace.

The hum of the vibrator is almost soothing; it’s nice white noise that allows you to get lost in everything you’re feeling. The alcohol already had you dialed to ten, so you know it won’t be long until you come. You know Johnny’ll make sure you come again before the night is over though, so you’re not worried. For now, you drink in his beauty—his perfect body, muscles working under his skin as he moves; his pretty blonde hair, and how a few strands are falling in his face; his sharp cheekbones and perfect lips, now a bit kiss-bitten; the soft noises he makes on each thrust in, low and quiet and so hot. Your desire has gone from a low thrum to an insistent pulsing.

Johnny catches you looking and smiles. “It’s okay,” he says when you give him a faintly embarrassed look. “It’s not like I wasn’t looking at you.”

“You’re just so handsome,” you say, and you’re surprised how heavy your tongue has become in your mouth. “And you fuck so nice.”

“Well, only the best for the best, right?” he says. “I’m barely good enough for you as it is.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you reply, and he just shrugs.

“Not my fault you’re the most beautiful girl in the world,” he says matter-of-factly, and you hate to admit it, but it gives you butterflies.

Can I keep you? you think. It definitely just started as a hookup, but now—well. You don’t know anymore. You’d like to find out if it could be something more.

Your body doesn’t allow you to get distracted for long. The vibrator sends pleasure coursing through your body, and your find yourself begging, “Faster, ‘m close, please—”

“Already?” Johnny acts surprised, but you know he already knows your body well enough that he doesn’t need your warning. He speeds up, just like you requested, running a hand through your hair, settling against the base of your skull. “Go ahead and come, then,” he says. “You know how much I like it when you come on my cock.”

You choke out moans, almost shivering as your orgasm overtakes you. Johnny fucks you through it, holding the vibrator steady over your clit until you settle back against the pillows and your breathing slows.

Though Johnny turns the vibrator back down to a lower setting, he doesn’t move it or turn it off completely. You twist away instinctively, but he follows you, laughing lightly when you whine. “Can we try this?” he asks, and you know this is an opportunity to opt-out.

But as much as it’s uncomfortable, you’ve always wanted to try overstimulation. None of your past partners have ever really seemed into it, and you’re not disciplined enough to do it on your own, so you might as well now. And if you end up hating it, you can just say so, and Johnny will stop. So you nod, through your eyebrows are creased. “Hurts,” you complain, but you stop struggling.

“Thank you, babygirl,” Johnny murmurs, leaning in to give you a couple soothing kisses. “I’ll make you feel good, promise.”

It’s a little hard to get used to the unrelenting sensations, as nice as they are, when your body is screaming for a break. So you just content yourself to whimpering softly as Johnny starts to move again, hoping it’ll goad him into coddling you.

Instead, he just laughs at you. “You’re cute when you pout,” he says. You frown at him even though you’re a little pleased. “Am I being mean?” he teases, shifting his grip on the vibrator and kicking it up a level in the process.

“Oh, fuck , please,” you gasp, curling up a little as searing pleasure wracks your body. “It’s too much—I can’t—”

“Too much?” Johnny asks. “D’you wanna stop?”

“No,” you hiss out, curling your fingers around his wrist.

“Then stop complaining,” he says sharply, and you stiffen. “Or this will be the least of your worries.”

You nod, trying your best to keep quiet, but it’s not easy—Johnny feels so good inside you, and you can’t help but cry out when he gets the angle just right. “Daddy, I can’t,” you repeat, tears pricking at your eyes. “Please—“

Johnny cuts you off by wrapping a hand around your throat. He gives you a cold, impassive look, not slowing for a second. You squeeze your eyes shut, and a tear slips out, but you don’t move to brush it away. You don’t move at all, don’t try to fight him or squirm out of his grasp. Your head swims a little from the lack of blood flow, and you focus on your breath as any residual discomfort from the vibrator dissipates into pleasure.

“Only well-behaved when I force you to be, is that it?” Johnny asks. “You’ll only be good after you’ve fought me tooth and nail. A slut and a brat, as usual.” You just hum faintly. It’s true. You don’t like doing things you weren’t sort of forced into doing. “Is it really so hard for you to do as you’re told?”

You clench around him, and he lets out a low moan. “Yes,” you force out in belated reply.

Johnny keeps a grip on your throat while he bends down to suck one of your nipples into his mouth. It’s overwhelming, but you suppose that’s the point. Your heart is hammering in your chest, and even though all you’re doing is literally lying there, you’ve somehow worked up a sweat. You try to moan, but it comes out high-pitched and quietly. Johnny huffs out breathless laughter against your chest.

“Gonna come again, baby?” he asks.

“Mm-hm.” You reach down feebly for him, and luckily he seems to know what you want. He lets go of your neck so he can support himself, and comes up to give you a kiss. He only needs to give a couple more hard thrusts before you’re coming, Johnny’s tongue in your mouth. You shake and cry, spasming helplessly around his cock. Johnny groans quietly against your lips, switching the vibrator off with unsteady hands and casting it aside somewhere on the mattress.

“Fuck, you feel good,” he says. “So tight, baby, gonna make me come.”

You use the last of your strength to lift your head so you can press kisses into his neck, murmuring encouragement as you do. He stills in you a few moments later, panting and moaning your name as you run your fingers through his hair.

You’re silent for a moment; you can hear the party winding down. The music has stopped, and you hear snippets of chatter as people are making to leave. You’re pretty sure you hear Rin patiently coaxing Taeyong into putting his coat on amid loud protests, and you press your lips together to hide a smile. And then Johnny leans in and gives you a loud kiss on the cheek, and you both dissolve into giggles.

“You’re gonna have to carry me to the shower,” you inform him. “I can’t feel my legs.”

“Good thing I’m strong, then,” he says. He pulls out, rolling off the bed, grabbing the vibrator as he goes. “So I’m keeping this, yes?” he adds, holding it up.

“Oh, yeah,” you agree. “Next time, maybe we can try it on you.”

“It’s okay to just say you want revenge, you know,” he replies, grinning, and you laugh.

* * *

Johnny’s once again already in the kitchen when you wake up the next morning. You pull a sweatshirt over your head and tentatively descend to the first floor. The carnage from last night isn’t so bad, but it isn’t pretty, either. There are empty bottles everywhere; you carefully pick your way around a sticky spot of dried alcohol on your way down the hall.

Johnny’s cooking happily, like hangovers don’t exist or something, and he smiles when you enter the kitchen. “Hey. Advil’s in that cabinet if you need it. Help yourself to coffee.”

“Thanks,” you groan.

He slides a plate across the table to you a few minutes later—a fat omelette and a couple of pieces of plain toast. “It’ll help,” he says when you sigh.

“Do you need help cleaning up?” you ask as you dig in. He’s right; the first bite already has you feeling better.

“Nah,” he says, smiling. “I have a cleaning service.”

“Of course you do.”

You’re both quiet for a while, engrossed in your food.

“Hey, um,” Johnny says after a long stretch of silence. “Can we—can we have the what-are-we conversation?”

You look up, surprised. “I—sure,” you agree.

“I don’t want to introduce you as my friend, or as the girl I’m seeing,” Johnny says quietly. “Last night was nice, but it was a little awkward. I can’t imagine how awkward it must have been for you.”

“It was fine,” you say, even though it was a little strange at times.

“Either way,” he continues. “I’d much rather introduce you as my girlfriend. Is that—okay?”

You laugh. “You’re asking if we want to make it official,” you clarify. He nods, looking somewhat apprehensive. “You could’ve just said that. Yeah, Johnny. We can make this official.”

“Good, ‘cuz I really like you,” he says, brushing off your little jab. He stands, gathering your cups and plates, pausing to kiss your hair. “Do you have anywhere to be this weekend?” he asks as he goes to put your dishes in the sink to soak.

“I do not,” you reply, smiling as you turn to face him.

He strolls back over to you, reaching out to cup your jaw when he’s close enough. He pulls you in for a sweet kiss and you close your eyes, smiling against his lips. “Good,” he says softly. “Stay, then.”

you knew he said you’d watch a movie together but you didn’t expect to get yourself two tickets to go watch a movie at an actual theatre. “that was amazing mr.suh-“ johnny looks down at your tiny figure holding the popcorn, “-i mean johnny!” if you’re being honest now, it was really nice getting to know johnny, besides the age difference and the possible complications with your amazing friendship with his son, you liked him. making your way over to his car, you listen on as he rambles about how he hasn’t this much of an outing since mark was in high school. “now he’s clinging onto me like we’re dudes, like i’m his dad not his bro.” he laughed, starting the car. “that’s so sweet though!! my mom never gave an effort to trying to be my friend even when i tried,” although you kind of party pooped the mood, you can literally reverse uno it right there. “but whatever!! she still brings me shopping which is good enough,”

nearing midnight and you know god damn well your mom would’ve killed you if she knew you took a taxi home alone in the middle of the night. johnny picked up on this, and even if he saw you in a new light today, a light which could possibly ruin his relationship with his son and a possible one with you, he couldn’t have let you home alone. “you know what? marks sleeping over at haechan’s anyway. i’ll call your mom and tell her you should stay over.” nodding, you let yourself in and up into his (messy) bedroom.

“hope you enjoy peanut butter and jelly for dinner, i kind of forgot to buy groceries...” johnny said handing you a plate of mini sandwiches. you mutter a quick thanks before digging in. tonight you saw johnny not as mr.suh but as johnny, the hot ass mother fucking dilf of the neighbourhood. you thought you were just a regular teenager to him, but you thought wrong. feeling his gaze on your exposed neck, lips. how his breathing would quicken whenever you leaned in to grab another sandwich. “wanna watch america’s got talent?” you asked pointing towards the couch. he shrugs agreeing, “why not?”

you had insisted on cleaning the dishes, i mean it was the least you could do. “so what’s the point of this whole show? to humiliate people or actually scout out people?!” johnny questioned staring at the screen, not noticing how you went from being on opposite ends of the couch to being almost inches away. should you initiate something? no, that would be overstepping into something erasable.

“this is so wrong,” you tell yourself before abruptly standing up. johnny turns his attention to you, trying to foreshadow your next moves. however, he didn’t expect for you to turn back around and straddle on his lap, “whoa..” he said, gripping onto your hips. “i want you.” his mind goes blur momentarily, “i-i cant, your my son’s best friend...” god, you looked so hot with your shorts bunched up as far as they could as you slowly grinder down onto his (huge) clothed cock. “fu..fuck,” he moans aloud, pushing all thoughts aside except for the one that kept telling him to ruin you tonight. the night was going better than planned, since you were in straddled on a topless johnny with only your bra and shorts on... probably a good twenty five minutes into kiss play, but mark chose the best time to unintentionally cockblock you and his dad. “y/n!!”mark shouted through the phone loud enough for johnny to hear (and the speaker wasn’t even on!) “yes markie?” you cooed, using one hand to speak on the phone and the other to signal johnny to keep it quiet. your hands trailed overtop your breasts, cupping them through your bra and pinching your hardened nipples, soon bringing your cold fingers down to the waistband of your shorts. “it’s fine. we can always watch a movie next weekend, i literally see you everyday! go hang out with hyuck,” you encouraged. past the waistband and under the hello kitty panties your hand comes in contact with your sensitive (dripping) folds. “a-ah, m..mark i gotta go...” “are you getting laid or something? i’m out.” he quickly ends the phone and you made sure to turn on ‘do not disturb’ incase he calls again.

“go on, i’ll watch.” johnny said seductively observing you as you toyed with your sensitive clot. “i’m close johnny!” you quietly moan into his ear, rubbing faster. “cum on your fingers, now.” he ordered, feeling you twitch underneath him, grinding as you had an orgasm. “dirty girl...” he groans watching you pull your fingers up to suck dry. now, you were a filthy girl, tasting yourself without being told to, cumming in your panties which you knew damn might have to force you to go commando tonight in marks bed. it was like a slap in the face when johnny lifted you up to stand, “it’s late. i- we should head to bed... i can give you some new shorts... since you know,” he quickly stammered before swiping his shirt off the floor, heading upstairs.

it was almost nine in the morning when you woke up, you knew johnny woke up around seven to eight so the sizzling smell of bacon wasn’t just some evil mind games. after last night, you felt, intense shame and guilt. did you seriously just betray your best friend for a lousy orgasm you could’ve done alone in the bathroom. “your up! i made breakfast, go ahead and dig in, i’m just gonna be cleaning up my bedroom.” he sounded as if you didn’t cum all over his lap not even 12 hours ago, but i guess he shouldn’t dwell in the past especially this time.

“mr.suh! my mom’s here! thank you... goodbye!” you shout from the front door. “anytime! bye!” he replies before you jolt out the door.

it’s been a couple days and johnny hasn’t left your mind. you always think about what stopped him, was it the age? your friendship with mark? that fucking phone call? johnny and you that night was like no other, you saw him for johnny, not mr.suh and it made your panties soak at every thought. how his ink black hair is always combed and in the most attractive middle part, how his broad should could feel when you hold yourself while being railed by his enormous cock. it was big, would it even fit? you’ve been with men before but the bulge you felt poking you in then thigh was something else compared to the other men.

you roamed his mind freely too. spending his day drinking hours, pondering over you, will you just slap him in the face and let him know you want him and you don’t care? he hopes. but it’s wrong. “dad! y/n’s coming over to study today,” mark shouted running down the stairs to his father. “so don’t snatch her up and take her away for a movie date, we got an exam this monday.” he said nonchalantly, the mention of their little outing slipping oh too casually. “w-what?” he asked surprised. “yeah yeah, i know about your little date and hook up” “- we didn’t hook up.” johnny interrupted, “well whatever you were doing for her to end my phone call like that,” he goes to the fridge to grab some milk, “so...” johnny said, eager on his son’s say on this. “so..? do you want me to be mad, dad?” i was lying if i said johnny was chill now... “no!!!!” he shouted, which earns a couple laughs from mark. “hey, dad,” mark sits down infront of his father. “it’s okay, y/n probably likes you back so you can do whatever you want with her, except hurt her cause i’ll kill you.” he deadpans before letting him off with a laugh. “so she can be your new mom for all you care?” he asked, playfully of course, waiting for the “hell no” and “what the fuck dad?!” to come but... “i mean she bags and tells me what to do, she helps me with school, laundry and chicks so... i don’t see why not,”

ding ding ding ding ding ding now what? hopping off the bean bag you were binge watching the office on, you head over to the door, not caring what you look like, just shut up to whoever had the audacity to spam a doorbell. “hello?!” you look up, “hey y/n,” johnny said with a small daisy in his hand.

“let me be your boyfriend,”

“what about mark?” you asked, staring at your feet wiggle in anticipation. hoping he’d tell you he doesn’t care and we could do whatever we wanted to. “funny you asked, he said for all he cares you could be his step mom.” you threw your head back laughing “he what?! no he didn’t....” the laughter dies down soon enough to get back to seriously listening in on what he has to say but did mark really not care? “your girlfriend huh?” you asked, raising a brow. he nodded. johnny proceeds to take the daisy and place it behind your ear, “you look like shit, but that is sexy as fuck.” he said, caressing your cheek before leaning in to place a peck on your lips.

“i don’t get why you drove half an hour here to say that, when i was already coming over to study.” you tell your boyfriend, johnny, as your backs his mattress. it was seriously an eventful day, wasn’t it? “i thought i should be romantic,” he shrugged turning to his side to wrap his large arms around your waist pulling you in closer. “i like this...” he mumbled into your hair, slowly drifting off to sleep.

“are you falling asleep?! we need to leave in ten minutes!!” you shouted, attempting to free yourself from his hold but he was knocked out and not letting go any time soon. “i hate you.” “i think it’s the quiet opposite y/n dear,” he replied, burying himself in the blanket, bringing you with him. “now let’s take a quick nap, mark can wait,” you sigh in defeat, “okay fine... twenty minutes!”

five months later, and you couldn’t believe having a relationship with your best friends dad was oddly working out perfectly. “johnny! fuck! baby your so good!” you whine as he penetrates into you against the wall. your legs wrapped around his waist as his cock rubs around your g-spot stimulating you into your third orgasm of that night. mark had recently gone travelling with jeno for fun so that meant you and johnny could’ve have your own fun in the empty house. “you can cum for me one more time can’t you?” he begged, placing you on the kitchen counter, kissing down your stomach. “answer me...” he sucks harhly on your clit. “yes! i can!!” you whined, squirming feeling johnny licking up your juicie; which sure as hell was mixed with his own cum, lapping his tongue around until you were shaking under his mouth and curling your toes to his mouth’s magic. “i’m- i’m cumming!!” you scream, releasing your juices onto the man’s face. “my favourite meal of the day.” he playfully joked before pinching your nipple. “tired?” he asked, as if he hadn’t been using you as a cum dump for hours. “mhm,” you reply opening your arms for him to carry you up, because “no way in hell am i walking up the stairs today after being railed by a monster cock.” you said snorting with a laugh. nonetheless, johnny swoops you up and gracefully carried you up and into his bed, “we can clean up tomorrow, let’s sleep now.” he said, feeling you wrap around him like a koala. “mmm goodnight... i love you,” you said in the crock of his neck, right below his ear before drifting off, “love you too,”

hugging yourself closer, with the winter air nipping at the tip of your nose, you realise you’ve arrived home. your trembling hands inserting the key into the lock of your door, with a jingle, opening the front door. finally being welcomed home to darkness and the warmth of your small cozy apartment. but as your eyes adjusted to the low lights, you don’t fail noticing a pair of worn out converse placed on the side, near the rest of your shoes. your index finger hooks behind the ankle of your shoe to flick it off, panic and confusion settling between your eyebrows. after locking the door, you take cautious steps, silently tiptoeing towards your open living room. your grip tightening around the end of your shirt as you peep past the entry of your living room. the sound of cackling fire wood, and sparkling lights from a small christmas tree reflect on the ground as you see the back of someone’s head. warmth spreading across your face as you bite back a smile. 

“mark?” you whisper in disbelief. a quick wave of realisation also settles in the corners of your mind, when you remember: mark, is the only other person who has the key to your place. mark’s head swings to the sound of your voice, a smirk already plastering on his face. he’s fast on his feet, reaching you in a beat, arms out embracing you. as much as he didn’t want to admit, waiting around for you was agony. 

you sink your weight further into his broad chest, the feeling of his body warmth wrapping you whole; his scent familiar and his natural musk glazes your eyes. with small tears, you fist the material of his shirt, tightening your hold on him. “what are you doing here? why are you in the dark?” your voice is muffled against his chest as he chuckles. you feel the gentle weight of his hand stroke the back of your head, rocking you both side to side momentarily. you guess santa must have judged you nice, as your wish portrays as granted. mark being the best gift of all. 

“i know i’m always busy with schedules. but i made sure to be here for you, on our favourite day,” mark’s voice holds heavy with sadness and you feel it. understanding he’s stressed and busy, you offer him a reassuring smile. the darkness that drags below his under eyes don’t lessen the glint of sparkle found in his eyes as he listens to you. “you didn’t have to.” confessing with a tinge of falsehood, instantly grateful he’s really here. this made you hold onto him tighter, rubbing a big ‘no’ against the width of his chest. “i mean... how are you? how’d you get here? when?” you speed through questions, mumbling against his shirt. mark just chuckles at your words. 

“dude, why do you sound so sad?” he escapes away from your embrace, laughing, pulling at your ears gently. his fingers are warm, heating up the tips of your frost kissed ears. he takes time to look at you, taking your appearance whole and imprinting it in his tiny box of memories he holds for you. a small smile mirrors between you both as you sigh, rubbing your forehead against his chest, holding him close once again. “okay dude stop pouting! look what i got~” excitement tickling his toes as he guides you both, walking backwards blindly. you shadow his figure, your body draping along the wooden floor as you follow his steps. once he bends down backwards, you’re released;  watching him open his luggage. he must have just arrived from korea today. much to your curiosity and amusement (due to his bent figure) your eyes linger at the object he beholds in front of you. it’s a stocking. your name still barely stitched onto the heel at the foot of the stocking. you bite back the biggest grin, almost letting out a squeal, looking at his large toothy grin, and your heart swells. 

you finally absorb your surroundings. mark has put up a small christmas tree and he’s hung up lights. you close your eyes in disbelief, why did he have to go above and beyond with such little things. it made you almost feel guilty for not doing anything to the same degree for him. near the bottom of the tree was a small cardboard box filled with ornaments. he was so thoughtful. 

you gasp, remembering and rapid with your feet as you head towards your bedroom. leaving mark bewildered, alone in the living room. your eyes quickly scan under your bed. even though mark is busy promoting and working in korea, without fail, both of you always fill up a stocking for each other. either to send overseas or to give when you visit each other after christmas. finally grabbing hold of it, you tighten your grip onto the stocking. you bolt down the hallway with the same lightness in your steps as you float back to mark. 

you find him there standing with his back facing towards you as he holds the box of ornaments, in waiting. he’s already placed your stocking below the faux christmas tree. 

“i have yours.” you giggle, placing mark’s stocking rightfully by the stocking he’s given you under the tree. he laughs at your panting self, handing you the box of ornaments, to pat your head rather endearingly. 

you can’t help the way you wistfully watch the way mark carefully hangs some of the ornaments. he looks tired, but altogether happy. he radiates a soft glow, and it’s not just because the lights of the christmas tree that make him appear so. you look down at the box in hand and sigh, “you didn’t have to come all the way here you know?” it’s barely a whisper above the low christmas playlist he’s put on while you left him. mark stops what he does to look at your sunken figure. the side of his body nudges your shoulder out of trance. “don’t be silly.” he reassures you with one of the most happiest smiles you’ve seen all winter. you smile at his playful self, deciding not to push him further about it, and just be grateful he’s even there to begin with. 

you spent the rest of the night with ‘the grinch’ playing in the background as you laugh together. you caught up with each other, asking him stories about his promotions and work. he reciprocates the questions. when you exchange your stockings and open the small presents, you can’t help being reminded of why you love christmas as much as you do. seeing mark’s smiling face only shows how much he feels the same way. and by the end you’re both breathless and light headed from all the laughing and giddy feelings you were getting. he’s home. you even decorated a store bought gingerbread house together. finishing the movie, you sit back against the couch, still in disbelief mark’s made this journey all the way to you. 

“thank you for coming,” you finally confess, and he sits up at your words. mark strokes your ear in between his middle and index figure with a swift movement, a smile on his lips. the ambiance is light, and your feel like everything about christmas makes sense when you’re celebrating it with mark. 

“i’ve missed you.” 

mark’s words are frosted with truth and you fall into a daze as he continues to watch your bashful self. 

“and i’ve missed you.” 

“i know.” 

there’s silence as the movie dies out. the only sound filling the room was the small crackle of firewood heating the room and your heartbeat hammering in your chest. the atmosphere suddenly feels heavier. he knits his eyebrows together at your empty words which fail to pass through your parted lips. you’re lost for words as he shuffles closer to you. “i-“ 

he stops his movements, softening his expressions as you find words. somehow, from your earlier endless ramblings, you’re finally all out of words. mark raises his eyebrows. “i have one more surprise.” you finally manage to say. 

mark’s eyes widen at your statement, feeling excited at the mystery surprise. 

“what is it?” 

“follow me.” you bait, jogging slightly towards your bedroom. he follows you with an airy laugh as you reach the doorway of your bedroom. 

you show him a teasing finger, pointing up towards the mistletoe that hung at the top of your bedroom door. he shares a laugh with you, being reminded of the teenage years where you’d pretend to be so love-struck and mocking of the ‘mistletoe kiss’. you’re leaning towards his cheek, about to give him your traditional version of the mistletoe kiss. 

but mark thought he was going to give you the kiss. 

his lips press against the outer corner of your lips. the curves of your lips just barely touch one another before you step back in shock. 

his skin was warm, and you both stare at each other with wide eyes because of the sudden contact. mark’s cheeks turn rosy because of your reaction. the butterflies finding purpose in your tummy making you feel shy. you both try your hardest to fight back a laugh, feeling childish. mark loved the way you’d always find ways to make him feel happy, effortlessly giving him reasons to laugh. he’s really glad he decided to come home to you for christmas. he really missed you, despite his busy world. the fact that you’re really there in front of him after so long, gave him a push. 

with a surge of confidence, the pads of his fingertips linger at the base of your neck. effortlessly you feel magnetic to him, your body lures into his aura as a faint smile graces his cupids bow. without spoken words, you know what’s coming. the ghost of his top lip gently pulls in your bottom lip as mark’s mind screams. he just had to. he had to kiss you, there wasn’t anything else in that moment, only a kiss came to mind; finding himself able to show you how he’s been feeling. he connects your lips together like tape meeting the wrapping paper. stuck together and enclosed for a fleeting moment, before it rips open with the way you kiss back, opening his heart. he feels like he’s falling and your kiss is bringing him back to gravity to land in a deep pillow of snow. your hands cold, holding the frame of his face lightly as he brushes his lips against yours again.