Langit Apgujeong mendadak berubah menjadi abu-abu pekat, seolah tinta raksasa baru saja tumpah di atas Seoul. Tak lama kemudian, hujan turun deras tanpa peringatan, menghantam atap Seorin High School dengan suara yang memekakkan telinga.
Yohan berdiri di lobi gedung utama, menggenggam gagang payung kuning polosnya erat-erat. Ia menatap ke arah gerbang sekolah. Di sana, di bawah atap kecil penjaga gerbang, ia melihat Yura.
Gadis itu berdiri sendirian. Minji sudah pulang lebih awal karena ada urusan keluarga, meninggalkan Yura tanpa perlindungan dari badai sore ini. Yura menatap langit, mata cokelatnya terlihat sedikit redup di bawah bayang-bayang mendung. Ia merapatkan jaketnya, sesekali mengusap lengannya yang putih pucat untuk mengusir dingin.
Yohan menarik napas panjang. Kakinya terasa berat, terpaku di lantai marmer lobi.
“Ayo, melangkah saja,” batinnya memerintah. “Tawarkan saja. Hanya sampai halte bus atau sampai rumahnya di Daechi-dong.”
Namun, Yohan adalah pria yang hidup dalam sunyi. Baginya, melangkah masuk ke dalam ruang pribadi seseorang adalah hal yang besar. Ia ragu. Bagaimana jika Yura merasa tidak nyaman? Bagaimana jika teman-temannya yang masih berkeliaran di lobi mulai berbisik lagi?
Alis tebal Yohan bertaut. Ia melihat Yura mulai membuka tasnya, mengambil sebuah buku catatan tebal untuk menutupi kepalanya—sebuah usaha yang sia-sia melawan hujan sederas ini.
Yura tampak mengambil ancang-ancang. Ia menoleh sekilas ke arah lobi, seolah mencari seseorang, atau mungkin hanya sekadar memastikan tidak ada harapan lagi. Tatapannya sempat menyapu arah Yohan, namun Yohan refleks membuang muka, berpura-pura sibuk dengan ponselnya.
Saat Yohan kembali mendongak, Yura sudah mulai melangkah keluar dari perlindungan atap.
Sekarang.
Yohan bergerak. Ia membuka payungnya dengan bunyi klik yang tajam dan berlari kecil menuju gerbang. Ia ingin memanggilnya, ingin meneriakkan 'Selamat sore' atau 'Apa kabar' yang salah kaprah seperti kemarin hanya untuk menghentikan langkah gadis itu.
Namun, keputusannya datang terlambat setengah detik.
Tepat saat Yohan mencapai batas gerbang, sebuah taksi kuning berhenti tepat di depan Yura. Yura segera masuk, menutup pintunya dengan cepat sebelum air hujan membasahi seluruh tubuhnya. Melalui kaca jendela yang mulai berembun, Yohan sempat melihat profil samping wajah Yura yang pucat sebelum taksi itu melaju menembus tirai hujan.
Yohan berdiri mematung di pinggir jalan. Payung kuningnya terbuka lebar, melindunginya dari air, namun dadanya terasa basah oleh rasa kecewa yang aneh. Ia hanya berjarak tiga meter. Tiga meter dan setengah detik yang memisahkan keberaniannya dengan kenyataan.
Ia menatap aspal yang tergenang air. Di sana, ia menyadari bahwa hal yang paling menyakitkan bukanlah penolakan, melainkan sebuah kesempatan yang lewat begitu saja karena keraguan yang tidak perlu.
Yohan menghela napas, pipi chubby-nya mengempis saat ia mengeluarkan napas panjang yang terasa panas di tengah udara dingin. Ia berbalik, berjalan perlahan menuju rumahnya di Gangnam. Jalanan yang biasanya hanya memakan waktu 15 menit, hari ini terasa jauh lebih panjang.
“Ternyata, kesunyian yang kupilih hari ini rasanya terlalu berisik,” bisik hati Yohan.
Ia menutup payungnya saat sampai di depan gerbang rumahnya, namun bayangan mata cokelat Yura yang menatap hujan tadi tetap tertinggal, menjadi pengingat bahwa dalam hidup, setengah detik bisa berarti sebuah penyesalan yang membekas lama.
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Perpustakaan Seorin di sore hari adalah definisi dari kedamaian yang dicari Yohan. Sinar matahari senja menyelinap melalui jendela besar, menyiram deretan rak buku dengan warna emas. Di salah satu sudut terjauh, ia menemukan Yura. Senior itu sedang fokus menulis di sebuah buku catatan, dengan kamus saku kecil tergeletak di samping lengannya yang putih pucat.
Yohan menghampirinya dengan langkah yang sengaja dibuat tenang, meski di dalam saku celananya, tangannya berkeringat dingin. Ia sudah berlatih kalimat ini berkali-kali di rumah semalam, bahkan mencatatnya di pinggir buku fisikanya.
Yura mendongak saat merasakan bayangan seseorang mendekat. Sebelum ia sempat menyapa, Yohan sudah membungkuk kaku dan berucap dengan suara beratnya yang khas.
"Salamat... paki, Apa kabur?"
Yohan mengucapkannya dengan intonasi yang sangat datar—khas orang Korea yang mencoba melafalkan huruf 'p' dan 'b' yang sering tertukar, serta salah satu huruf vokal yang meleset jauh.
Yura tertegun sejenak. Matanya yang cokelat mengerjap lambat, mencoba mencerna apa yang baru saja ia dengar. Detik berikutnya, sesuatu yang langka terjadi. Bahu Yura bergetar, dan sebuah tawa kecil lolos dari bibirnya. Bukan tawa mengejek, melainkan tawa tulus yang membuat matanya membentuk bulan sabit yang indah.
"Yohan-ssi," ucap Yura di sela tawanya yang lembut. "Ini sudah sore, bukan pagi. Dan 'Apa kabur' berarti kau bertanya apakah aku melarikan diri."
Wajah Yohan seketika memerah hingga ke ujung telinga. Alis tebalnya bertaut karena malu. "Ah, benarkah? Aku membacanya di situs pencarian semalam. Harusnya Apa kabar, ya?"
"Iya, Apa kabar," koreksi Yura sembari menggeser kursinya, memberi ruang bagi Yohan untuk duduk. "Dan untuk sore, kau bisa bilang Selamat sore."
Yohan duduk di sampingnya, masih merasa sedikit konyol. Namun, saat ia menatap Yura, rasa malunya menguap.
Melihat Yura tertawa—kejadian yang sangat jarang terjadi di sekolah—terasa seperti sebuah pencapaian besar bagi Yohan. Tawa itu membuat wajah pucat Yura terlihat jauh lebih hidup.
"Mari kita coba lagi," ucap Yura dengan sabar. "Ikuti aku: Se-la-mat so-re."
Yohan memperhatikannya dengan intens. Bukan hanya memperhatikan gerak bibir Yura, tapi juga cara cahaya matahari membuat mata cokelat gadis itu terlihat semakin hangat.
"Se-la-mat... so-le," ucap Yohan. Ia masih kesulitan dengan huruf 'r', lidahnya masih terlalu kaku.
"Lumayan," puji Yura dengan binar teduh di matanya.
Tepat saat Yohan hendak menanyakan kata berikutnya, suara langkah kaki cepat dan ceria mendekat.
"Eonnie! Akhirnya aku menemukanmu!" Minji muncul dari balik rak buku dengan wajah berseri-seri. Sakit giginya sepertinya sudah sembuh total. "Eh? Ada Yohan-ssi juga di sini?"
Minji langsung menarik kursi dan duduk di antara mereka, mulai bercerita panjang lebar tentang drama yang ia tonton semalam. Yohan seketika terdiam. Ia kembali memasang wajah datarnya. Kesunyian yang tadi ia bangun bersama Yura—ruang khusus di mana hanya ada suara mereka yang saling mengeja kata—kini pecah berantakan.
Yohan merasa terusik. Ia menyukai Minji karena Minji baik pada Yura, tapi saat ini, ia hanya ingin Minji menghilang sebentar saja agar ia bisa mendengar suara Yura mengoreksi logatnya lagi.
Ia memperhatikan Yura yang kini tersenyum melayani celotehan Minji. Yohan menyadari satu hal: ia adalah orang yang membenci kebisingan dan kerumitan. Namun, mempelajari bahasa asing yang susunan katanya terbalik-balik dan pengucapannya sangat sulit bagi lidah orang Korea, ternyata tidak seburuk itu.
Yohan kembali menatap catatan kecilnya di saku. Ia memikirkan bagaimana cara mengucapkan Sampai jumpa untuk nanti.
— Ternyata, aku tidak keberatan belajar bahasa baru… selama itu bahasa miliknya.
batin Yohan sembari menarik napas panjang, menekan rasa kesalnya pada Minji dan menggantinya dengan tekad untuk belajar lebih banyak kata besok.
Sepuluh menit sebelum bel masuk berbunyi, Kelas 2-3 Seorin High School adalah sebuah simulasi kekacauan yang teratur. Di tengah hiruk-pikuk itu, Park Yohan duduk dengan punggung tegak di barisan belakang. Rambut hitamnya yang dipotong rapi tanpa model macam-macam membingkai wajahnya yang memberikan kesan "anak baik". Meski tangannya sibuk membolak-balik halaman buku teks, telinganya adalah radar yang menangkap setiap frekuensi gosip di ruangan itu.
"Kau sudah lihat siswi pertukaran dari Indonesia itu? Di kelas 3-1?" suara bisikan itu terdengar di antara tawa beberapa siswa.
"Namanya Yura. Dia... tidak seperti yang kubayangkan. Kulitnya putih. Kudengar ayahnya keturunan Rusia."
"Benar! Dan matanya cokelat madu. Tapi dia sangat pendiam, seperti ada tembok kaca yang mengelilinginya. Benar-benar sulit didekati."
Yohan tidak mendongak, namun sudut bibirnya terangkat tipis. Yura. Nama itu terdengar seperti sebuah bisikan yang asing namun entah kenapa terasa pas di telinganya. Ia menyentuh pipinya yang sedikit berisi—kebiasaan saat ia sedang berpikir strategis—sambil bertanya-tanya dalam hati: Seperti apa mata cokelat yang bisa membuat seluruh koridor membicarakannya?
Sore harinya, Seoul diselimuti cahaya jingga yang pekat. Yohan memutuskan untuk tidak langsung pulang ke rumahnya di Gangnam yang luas namun selalu terasa terlalu sunyi. Kakinya membawanya menuju atap gedung lama sekolah, tempat di mana ia biasanya bisa menjadi dirinya sendiri tanpa perlu menjadi "Park Yohan yang bisa diandalkan".
Saat pintu besi itu berderit terbuka, napas Yohan tertahan.
Seorang gadis berdiri di dekat pagar pembatas. Angin musim semi menyapu lembut poni lurus yang membingkai wajahnya, membuat rambut hitam bergelombangnya menari kecil di bahu. Ketika gadis itu menoleh, matahari sore seolah-olah hanya bersinar untuknya.
Yohan terpaku. Kulit gadis itu memang seputih porselen dengan rona cool tone yang kontras dengan cahaya hangat. Namun, adalah matanya—bulat, teduh, dan berwarna cokelat terang—yang membuat Yohan kehilangan kata-kata. Gadis itu tampak seperti lukisan yang belum selesai, indah namun membawa sisa kesedihan yang tak terucap.
"Oh," suara itu lembut, memecah kesunyian. "Maaf, aku tidak tahu tempat ini ada penghuninya."
Yohan tersentak dari lamunannya. Rasa canggung sempat melintas, namun sifat ramah alaminya segera mengambil alih. Ia tersenyum lebar—jenis senyuman yang membuat matanya menyipit dan bibirnya melengkung sempurna membentuk siluet love yang manis.
"Tempat ini tidak punya pemilik," sahut Yohan, suaranya kini terdengar hangat dan ringan. Ia melangkah mendekat, aura kepemimpinannya melunak menjadi keramahan seorang junior. "Aku Yohan. Kelas 2-3."
"Aku Yura," jawabnya singkat. Ia tidak langsung membuang muka, melainkan menatap Yohan dengan rasa ingin tahu yang tenang.
Yura kembali mengalihkan pandangan ke arah langit Apgujeong yang mulai menggelap. Ia merasa kehadiran laki-laki berpipi chubby ini tidak mengganggunya. Sebaliknya, ada energi stabil dan hangat yang memancar dari Yohan.
"Kenapa kau di sini? Bukannya anak-anak populer biasanya berkumpul di kafe setelah sekolah?" tanya Yura tanpa nada menghakimi.
Yohan terkekeh, berdiri di samping Yura dengan jarak yang sopan. "Populer itu hanya pekerjaan sampingan. Di sini... setidaknya kebisingannya tidak terdengar. Seoul terkadang terlalu menuntut untuk terus bersuara."
Yura menoleh, poni lucunya sedikit berantakan tertiup angin. Ia tersenyum tipis, sebuah ekspresi langka yang membuat jantung Yohan berdegup di luar ritme biasanya.
"Kau benar, Yohan-ssi," bisik Yura. "Kadang, diam itu lebih berisik daripada bicara."
Di atas atap Seorin High School, Yohan menyadari satu hal. Ia yang selalu menyukai keteraturan dan rencana, baru saja menemukan satu variabel yang tidak akan pernah bisa ia prediksi: Yura Putri. Dan untuk pertama kalinya, ia tidak keberatan jika rencananya berantakan.
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Summary: (Y/N) cooking dinner sparks something within Dean he never knew he needed.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Warnings: Fluff/Smut
Word Count: 1717
A/N: I really don’t know what inspired this other than I was cooking dinner tonight and wishing Dean was there to entertain me. The way my dirty mind works… *shrugs* As always this is unbeta so all mistakes are mine. Likes, comments and reblogs are splendid and I will love you doubly for them! Enjoy!
Dean Winchester moved about the house uneasily looking for his vinyl records that were still in a box. His girlfriend, (Y/N), had lived with him and Sam in the Bunker for five years. The first two as a friend and hunting partner, but then everything changed one night after a grueling hunt. Dean and (Y/N) sat in the library trying to wash away the gruesome sight they left behind after killing a pack of werewolves. They drank through a bottle of whiskey together then one thing led to another and they ended up in bed together. From that night, they were never apart. For three years they lived together with Sam in the Bunker until (Y/N) brought up getting a house for just them after Sam had walked in the shower room when she was in there one too any times. Dean hesitantly agreed as she found a house only a couple of miles away from the Bunker.
They had moved in a couple of weeks ago and were slowly getting things unpacked. (Y/N) was working hard to get it all set up to make it feel homier knowing he was uncomfortable being away from Sam. He was a little peeved that Sam was adjusting so well to being in the Bunker alone. As Dean looked through boxes in their spare bedroom he called out, “Hey babe, where are my records?” He could smell a delicious aroma coming from the kitchen meaning she was cooking dinner and started making his way towards there. He walked in the kitchen and stopped suddenly seeing (Y/N) bent over resting her arms on the counter. She had music playing from her phone and was subtly swinging her hips side to side. One of the benefits of them living in their own home was (Y/N) hardly wore multiple layers of clothing. She was always in shorts or yoga pants along with a t-shirt or tank top. Dean leaned up against the wall admiring her barely there running shorts as they hitched up enough for her ass cheeks to be visible. He bit his lip deciding if distracting her from cooking with what he had in mind was worth ruining dinner for.
(Y/N) was looking down at her cookbook going over the next few steps in what she was making. She thought she had heard Dean call out for her but when she did not hear him again she shrugged focusing on dinner. She was trying everything in her power to make Dean comfortable in their new house. Where she loved the Bunker and Sam, she was never truly comfortable there. She could not wear her hoochie shorts and tank top over there because Sam could see her and the Bunker was always cold. She could not have friends over and there were no windows which did not help with her depression. Since moving in their house she felt happier and livelier than ever. She was cooking more, singing more and smiling more. She only wished Dean would relax enough to enjoy their new place like she was. Sam reassured her that eventually he would be alright but change did not come easy for Dean.
As she was reading the next few steps she felt two large hands grip her hips firmly. “Hey there handsome, did you call out to me earlier?” He hummed his answer as she was about to turn around he pressed his hand against her lower back keeping her in the position she was in. He pressed himself against her ass his bulge right in between her cheeks. Now she knew what he was wanting and she quickly switched off the burners on the stove. She braced herself on the counter as she moved her ass up and down slowly. His hands slid up her shirt his calloused fingers moving up her sides and around to her breasts. Dean groaned feeling she was not wearing a bra which she hardly did anymore unless she went out. He took one foot spreading her legs and grinded against her causing her to moan.
She lifted herself quickly discarding her shirt to the floor as his hands massaged her breasts gently pinching her nipples which he knew drove her crazy. (Y/N) could already feel herself soaking through her panties and shorts as he tortuously rubbed himself against her ass. “Dean…” she whimpered as her forehead rested against the counter. “Yeah sweetheart?” His deep raspy voice went straight to her core as her muscles tensed up. “I need you.” She whispered looking over her shoulder into his dark green eyes. He licked his bottom lip and brought it in between his teeth. “Stay like that.” He demanded as he stepped away looking at her. She could feel her arousal slipping down her legs as he stared at her a low growl coming deep from within him. Suddenly he scooped her up twirling her towards the kitchen table as he sat her on top of it. She let out of huff as her ass smacked against the hard wood and she laid back as he took off her shorts and panties.
(Y/N) watched as he stepped between her legs and ran his hand up her stomach all the way behind her neck bring her up against his chest. His soft full lips crashed to hers as his tongue pushed through them. He had the slightest taste of whiskey on his tongue as she ran her hands over his shoulders pulling down his flannel. He broke free for a moment tossing his flannel and then lifting his t-shirt off joining the other on the floor. She hurriedly unbuckled his belt as his lips sloppily kissed down her cheek and neck. She pushed down his pants and boxers as far as she could his cock standing firm resting against her stomach. Dean kicked off his pants and boxers as (Y/N) slowly pumped his cock earning her a deep groan. He stepped out of her grasp kneeling in front of her and running his long tongue over her slick lips. “Oh… god,” She mumbled leaning back on her elbows. He licked her three more times gently sucking her clit on the last swipe as she tangled her fingers in his short hair. “Dean… fuck…” She was almost there when he stood up leaving her panting for more. She looked up seeing her juiced all over his mouth and chin.
She sat up kissing him and licking herself off his face. He chuckled as she licked his chin and then sucked on his bottom lip. “I do taste pretty good.” She whispered against his lips as his hands spread her legs a little further. “Damn right you do babe!” He said as he aligned his tip to her entrance. “Watch (Y/N), watch as you take all of me.” She looked down in between them as Dean slowly pushed his length inside her aching sex. “Oh… fuck me,” she groaned rolling her head back relishing in feeling complete with him nestled inside of her. “That’s the plan.” He pulled himself out taking grasping himself and rubbing the tip along her slit causing her hips to raise. He grabbed her hips and snapped back inside her as she cried out, “Dean!” His firm hold on her hips kept her steady as his pace picked up pounding into her. She wrapped her legs around his waist and sat up wrapping her arms around his neck. She held onto him as he held her up sitting down on a kitchen chair. She rolled her hips grinding her clit against his pelvic bone.
“Fuck (Y/N),” He said as he leaned down taking one of her nipples into his mouth. One of her hands went up into his hair pulling it. She was getting impatient as he leisurely sucked on her breast. He sat back letting her take control as she started bouncing on his lap. “Fuck baby… you feel so good.” He guided her hips as he began to thrust up into her. She brought one hand down over her clit rubbing circles over it bringing her closer to her release. She could feel him close to his own as she buried her face into the crook of his neck. “Fuck… Dean, right there.” He repeated curse words over and over as he frantically snapped up in her. “Dean, come now.” She whispered nipping at his neck as she felt him twitch inside her triggering her own release. “Fuck!” They both cried out as she rolled her hips over him a few more times riding out the blissful sensations surging through her.
“I officially deem this room christened.” He said as she nodded against his shoulder. He stood up with her wrapped around him carrying her to their room and laying her down on the bed. He quickly cleaned himself and her off then lying next to her. “Not that I didn’t enjoy our sexcapades in the kitchen, but what brought that on?” He chuckled moving a strand of her hair behind her ear. “I was coming in to see what you were cooking and to ask where my records were. I saw you bent over the counter in those damn shorts with your ass hanging out. I stood there watching you sway it from side to side and took a moment to think if having sex was worth ruining dinner over.” She started giggling as she traced the anti-possession tattoo on his chest.
“And, was it worth it?” Dean gave her his cheesiest smiled while nodding, “Hell yeah it was. If I knew something so ordinary as domestic life was going to be this sexy I would have moved out with you three years ago.” (Y/N) started laughing as she got up feeling she could stand properly now. “Well this housewife is going to finish dinner. You’re welcome to watch me if you like.” He looked at her questioningly, “Don’t you need clothes?” She shook her head as she leaned against the doorway. “Nope, haven’t you heard of the show Naked Chef.” She winked at him as he quickly got out of bed and scooped her up as she giggled. “I think I’m going to love domestic life with you.” He said as they walked through the house buck naked and without a care in the world.
