#suho fluff

from then on, it was you and su-ho. always in the same frame. your classmates joked about it constantly — if they saw one, they expected the other. he became your person, the one who waited outside your labs, the one who shared earphones on the train back, the one who’d text ‘yo dummy u eat yet’ at ungodly hours like it was part of your daily survival.

you were different, but you got each other. he’d distract you during exams, you’d calm him down before presentations. it just.. worked. and maybe that’s why no one ever suspected anything deeper. not even you.

you were used to being mistaken for the girl who liked si-eun — he was the calm one, the smart one, the one people admired from a distance. and truthfully? you did admire him.

it was hard not to. but it never made your stomach flip. not like the way su-ho looked at you sometimes. not like the way he’d lean back on his arms, grin at you sideways, and say things like “what, you thinking dirty thoughts or something?” just because you zoned out for two seconds.

you laughed it off like always. he joked about everything. teased like it was his default language. but lately — lately, it’s been harder to ignore how warm your face gets. how your chest does that annoying twisty thing when he slings an arm over your shoulder. how you catch yourself wondering if he actually knows more than he lets on.

because the thing is — you don’t know anything. not really. not when it comes to sex. not beyond vague textbook definitions and secondhand stories from friends. you never bothered asking before. it always felt far away, not something meant for you.

until you realized you didn’t want to be left behind.

until you realized you wanted to understand.

and more than that — more than anything — you wanted to ask him.

you weren’t sure why at first. maybe it was because su-ho always made you feel safe, even when you were dumb or confused or too flustered to speak. maybe it was because he never made you feel stupid for not knowing.

maybe it was because part of you, deep down, knew he’d be honest. or maybe it was just the way he said your name sometimes. like he was waiting for you to ask something — anything.

you don’t know when exactly it started. the way your eyes would linger on his lips when he laughed. the way your heart did that unexplainable flutter when he licked honey off his thumb one morning during breakfast. it wasn’t about romance. it wasn’t about being in love. it was about wanting to know. about needing to understand.

and su-ho.. su-ho was the first person that came to mind.

it’s little things, really. the things you used to ignore. like how su-ho always sprawls himself out across your bed when he visits, like it’s his own. he’ll toss his phone aside, prop himself up on one elbow, shirt riding a little too high, and say, “you’re not gonna fail your midterms if you lie down for five minutes. c’mon.” and you’ll cave. you always do. you’ll end up beside him, shoulder to shoulder, his knee brushing yours.

he never moves away. there’s no reason to panic, you tell yourself. you’re friends. he’s like this with everyone. maybe he just doesn’t care about personal space.

maybe the way his voice dips a little when he calls you “baby” is just a joke. he says that to strangers too, doesn’t he?

but then there are the nights he talks quieter. like when you’re both half-asleep after cramming for exams, the light from your desk still casting a soft gold against the room.

he’ll mutter something like, “you’re too cute when you’re sleepy, y’know that?” and you’ll freeze. because it doesn’t feel like a joke. not then.

and maybe he doesn’t realize the effect he has on you. maybe he doesn’t see the way your breath catches when he leans over your shoulder to check your notes, the warmth of his chest ghosting your back.

maybe he doesn’t notice the way your thighs press together when he lounges back and pats the space between his legs with a casual, “you can sit here, dummy. I don’t bite.”

but you notice.

you notice everything now.

you notice how he smells — like warm fabric softener and that faint trace of cologne he probably thinks you don’t recognize. you notice the way his hands look when he’s typing or fiddling with his rings.

you notice how low his voice can drop when he’s serious — or when he’s annoyed, like that time someone tried to flirt with you at a party. he got quiet. didn’t say anything for ten minutes after.

just passed you your drink and stared across the room like he was trying to set something on fire. and yet, even with all of that — with how aware you’ve become of him — you still don’t know how to bring it up. not the way you want to.

not the way it’s started echoing in your head at night, in the quiet moments between being awake and asleep.

you’ve had dreams. not always clear, not always intense — but enough. enough to wake up and feel heat between your thighs, confusion in your chest. enough to leave you sitting there, alone in your sheets, wondering what it would feel like.

to be touched.

to be wanted.

to be taught.

and for some reason, you can’t imagine anyone else doing it but su-ho.

not si-eun, not a stranger, not someone from a checklist. just him. the boy who knows your favorite drink and the password to your phone. the one who holds your wrist when you’re walking through crowded streets. the one who grins like he’s never met someone funnier than you, even when you’re not trying.

you’re not in love, you don’t think. but you do think about how it would feel to be touched by someone who already knows all your soft parts.

who’s already seen you at your most unguarded. who calls you “trouble” in the same breath he offers you his last bite of food.

you wonder — if he touched you, would it still feel like friendship? or would it finally feel like the answer to everything you’ve been too scared to ask?

it happens on a thursday. nothing particularly special about it — your classes ended early, your hair’s still a little damp from a rushed shower, and su-ho’s on your bed again, hoodie sleeves pushed up, legs stretched long like always.

he’s scrolling through something aimlessly on your phone, and you’re sitting at your desk, pretending to be preoccupied with your laptop, but mostly just staring at nothing.

there’s something different in the air today. maybe it’s just you. maybe you’ve been holding it in too long. you’ve gone through every possible version of this in your head: how to say it, how he might react, what it would mean.

maybe he’d laugh. maybe he’d tease you for the rest of your life. or maybe — just maybe — he’d say yes. and it’s that maybe that makes your stomach twist.

that makes your fingers tighten around your mug and your tongue feel too big for your mouth. you don’t look at him when you finally say it.

“can I ask you something?”

your voice comes out smaller than expected. like you’re already regretting the thought. he hums lazily, doesn’t look up. “you just did.”

“no, like—seriously.”

that gets his attention. he shifts, sits up a bit straighter, and turns to you, brows raised. “you good?”

you nod, too fast. “yeah. yeah, just—”

the words feel heavier in your mouth than they did in your head. this felt easier when it was 1am and you were half-asleep and desperate. now, with him actually looking at you, it feels like you’re about to step off a cliff with your eyes wide open.

“can you teach me?”

he blinks. “teach you what?”

you don’t really know how long you sit there, legs tucked under you on the edge of your chair, while su-ho stays crouched in front of you like he’s not even thinking about how awkward that must feel for his knees.

there’s something in his eyes that you haven’t seen before — not even when he’s being overly gentle, not even when he’s drunk and slurring jokes and leaning his weight on you like he trusts you to carry it..

“so,” he starts again, voice low, a little careful. “when you say ‘teach,’ what exactly do you mean?”

you hesitate, then — in the quietest voice you’ve ever used — you say, “about sex.”

the silence that follows is unreal. like the air thins, like time stalls for a second too long. you want to hide. maybe crawl under your desk. maybe vanish entirely. but then you hear him shift again, a soft rustle of fabric, and when you finally glance at him —

his expression isn’t mocking, it isn’t judgmental, it’s just still. quiet, a little wide-eyed, like he’s trying to make sure he heard you right.

“wait,” he says, voice low. “you’re serious?”

you nodded, your throat is dry. his brows furrow slightly, but there’s no laughter, no teasing. just something unreadable flickering across his face. he leans forward, elbows on his knees, eyes searching yours.

you swallow. “I mean—like, I know what sex is, obviously. I just…” you trail off, scrunching your face. “I don’t know what it’s actually like. or how to do it. or what’s supposed to feel good. i’ve never done anything. not even with myself.”

his brows lift, surprised — but not in a mocking way. if anything, he looks more thoughtful. his voice stays quiet, almost too gentle.

“you’ve never?”

you shake your head. “no.”

“not even kissing?”

“not really. maybe like… dumb little pecks in high school. never something serious.”

su-ho exhales slowly through his nose and leans back a little, settling cross-legged on your rug now, chin tilted up to still meet your gaze. “okay. wow. okay.”

“is that bad?”

“no,” he says quickly, firmly. “not bad. not at all. it’s just—” he runs a hand through his hair, a little stunned. “i didn’t know. you never seemed like someone who’d be shy about stuff like this.”

you shrug, suddenly very interested in your desk lamp. “I guess I just never trusted anyone enough. or cared enough. until…”

you don’t finish the sentence. you don’t have to. he looks at you for a long moment. and then his expression softens.

“okay,” he says again, slower this time. “so you’re not asking me for a hookup. you’re asking me to… guide you?”

you nod.

“and this is what you want?”

you glance at him, then down at your hands. “I think so. but I don’t want to regret anything. I don’t want it to feel like… just a lesson. like you’re doing me a favor or something.”

he shakes his head, almost laughing under his breath. “believe me,” he mutters, “if I didn’t want it, we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

you look up. “you’d want to? with me?”

he rolls his eyes a little, teasing now. “you’re cute, you know that?”

your heart jumps stupidly.

but he’s already reaching for your hand, holding it between both of his like it’s nothing — like it’s something he’s always wanted to do but never got around to.

“look,” he says, thumbs brushing slow circles into your skin. “if we do anything, I want it to be because you feel safe. because you’re curious and I get to help you understand your body. not because you think you’re behind or missing out.”

you nod again, slower this time. “I just want to feel close to someone. and I… I guess I trust you the most.”

his smile turns soft, so soft it feels like a hug.

“then we’ll take it slow,” he murmurs. “you set the pace. we talk through everything. and we stop whenever you feel weird, no questions asked.”

your chest tightens in the best kind of way. not scared. not shy. just warm. like you’re really being held, even without his arms around you.

“can I ask things?” you say. “like, stupid things?”

“you can ask me anything,” he says. “even if it’s what that little flap on condoms is for.”

you laugh, a little too loud. “you know I almost asked you that once.”

“I know. I saw you hovering over the search bar in incognito mode.”

you groan, tossing your head back, but su-ho’s grinning now, bright and proud like he lives to make you flustered.

“so, okay,” he says. “i’ll answer stuff. we’ll go slow. and we’ll make it, y’know… a learning experience. a good one. no pressure. no tests at the end. just…” he pauses. “just me and you. figuring it out together.”

you squeeze his hand back, and when you finally look up again — his eyes are still soft. still watching you like you’re something rare and good. and for once, you believe it.

the first time his mouth finds its way between your legs, it’s nothing like what your imagination tried to prepare you for.

there’s no rush, no hunger, no mess of fingers fumbling to strip you bare all at once. just su-ho, kneeling at the edge of your bed, coaxing you to lie back while his hands trail slow up your thighs, his eyes never leaving yours.

“i’m gonna teach you how to enjoy this,” he murmurs, thumbs pressing softly at the inside of your knees to spread them apart. “and how to tell me what feels good. okay?”

your voice comes out small. “okay.”

he leans down, kisses your knee. then a little higher. then a little higher than that.

you’re already wet — he makes some low, surprised noise when he slides your underwear down and sees it for himself — but he doesn’t tease. doesn’t smirk or comment or make you feel like this is some joke.

instead, his hands keep you open, warm and steady, while his mouth lowers between your legs like it belongs there. the first press of his tongue to your slit makes you twitch.

“oh—”

“it’s okay,” he says, voice muffled but soothing. “just relax. tell me if anything feels too much.”

and then he starts again.

soft, slow licks at first, more about getting you used to the feeling than chasing anything. you feel like you’re floating — like your whole body’s pulling taut, breath catching every time he flattens his tongue against your cunt and draws a long stripe up through your folds. when he finds your clit, you nearly jolt again, gasping.

“there?” he murmurs. “that sensitive?”

you nod quickly. “yeah—y-yeah.” he hums, and the vibration makes you arch slightly.

“good,” he says. “it’ll get more sensitive the more turned on you are. it’s not about pressure—it’s about rhythm. like this.”

he circles it gently with the tip of his tongue, again and again, unhurried, careful not to overwhelm you too quickly. his hands stroke over your thighs, calming you as your body stutters and writhes. the sounds coming from you are soft, unsure, breathy little moans that escape before you can stop them.

he lifts his head only briefly. “you’re doing so good, baby. i’m proud of you.”

that single sentence makes your heart squeeze, makes your hips lift up for more. he smiles, then goes back in — and this time he’s firmer, more purposeful. you can tell he’s been holding back, and now that he knows you’re okay, he gives in a little more.

suckling your clit between his lips, tracing his tongue in slick circles, pausing every few seconds to hear how your breath catches, to listen to what makes you moan.

you’re not even thinking when you whisper, “I feel something—i think—”

“let it happen,” he whispers against you. “don’t be scared. let it build.”

and when it does — when the knot inside you snaps and everything floods hot and sharp and overwhelming — you feel his hands hold you down, grounding you, his mouth never leaving you until it all ebbs and your legs are shaking.

you don’t even realize there are tears in your eyes until he’s crawling up your body, wiping them away gently.

“too much?”

you shake your head. “no. that was… that was so good.”

he kisses your forehead. then your lips. “told you.”

you laugh breathlessly. “you’re actually a really good teacher.” he smirks at that, but it fades into something softer. more thoughtful.

“wanna try something now?” he asks, settling beside you. “you don’t have to, but if you want, I can show you what I like too.”

you nod. “yeah.. I want to. teach me, I asked for this, remember?”

he breathes out slowly, like he wasn’t expecting you to say yes so quickly.

“okay,” he says. “c’mere.”

he guides your hand down first — shows you how to unbutton his jeans, how to ease them down. his cock is already hard, flushed, leaking at the tip, and when your eyes widen, he grins.

“it looks big,” you mumble.

“it won’t hurt,” he promises. “not if we go slow. and besides, i’m not asking you to take it all. not yet.”

you swallow. “so… what do I do?”

he leans back slightly against the pillows, voice a low rumble now.

“start with your hand,” he says. “wrap your fingers around it, gentle. just like that—yeah. perfect.”

you’re fascinated. it’s hot and heavy in your grip, pulsing a little when you stroke up. su-ho groans, a quiet sound that sends a jolt straight between your legs again.

“use your thumb,” he pants. “over the tip. fuck—that’s it. damn, you’re a fast learner.”

you watch his face as he reacts to every little thing you try, how his jaw clenches when you squeeze a little, how his chest rises when you lick a tentative stripe up the length of his cock.

he guides you without pressure, encouraging you softly, telling you what feels good, what he likes.

“use your mouth,” he breathes. “just the tip. go slow, baby. just like that—fuck.”

his hand settles lightly at the back of your head but doesn’t push, just rests there, as you wrap your lips around him. it’s warm, salty, a little overwhelming — but the way he moans your name makes you want to keep going.

he’s so vocal, breathy and praising between gasps. “you’re doing so good,” he whispers. “so pretty like this. your mouth feels so fucking nice—shit.”

you hollow your cheeks, experiment with your tongue, and when you glance up at him, when your eyes meet his while you suck slowly, he curses under his breath and pulls you off with a shaky hand.

“if you keep going,” he says, voice wrecked, “i’ll come. and I don’t wanna come yet.”

you smile, dazed, lips slick with spit. “was i good?” he laughs, short, breathless, affectionate.

“you’re perfect.” and then he leans in to kiss you again, deeper this time.

“you okay?” su-ho asks again, quieter now, brushing your hair away from your face. his thumb strokes your cheek while his other hand rests over your waist, the heat of his palm grounding you, still holding onto the last of your breathless high from before.

you nod. “mm-hmm.” then softer, “more than okay.”

he smiles, then leans in and kisses you gently — slow, like he’s giving you time to change your mind, even now.

but when you kiss him back with that same neediness you’ve been carrying since you first asked him to teach you, his hand slides lower, resting on your hip.

“you wanna keep going?”

you nod again. “yeah. I… I think I want to try.”

his gaze scans your face. you know he’s checking for nerves, doubt, fear — but all he finds is a quiet kind of trust. something that makes his voice go softer when he speaks again.

“okay,” he says, “but we talk first. that’s part of it too.”

you blink. “talk?”

he nods. “before sex. especially your first time. communication makes everything better. safer. and honestly?” he grins a little, “hotter too.”

you bite your lip. “what do we talk about?”

“a few things,” he murmurs, kissing down your jaw. “protection first.”

he shifts away for a moment, reaching for his backpack on the floor. he pulls something out — silver foil, crinkly — and raises his brows at you like he’s been waiting to use it for this exact moment.

“su-ho,” you say slowly, “why do you have a condom in your backpack.”

he snorts. “remember the frat party? si-eun and I saw it in the cr, he didn't want it so I picked it up.”

you roll your eyes. “you guys are idiots.”

“probably,” he shrugs. “but at least i’m a responsible idiot.” you watch as he sets the condom gently on the nightstand, not rushing to open it.

“we use this,” he says, “every time. unless we both get tested and talk about it first. cool?” you nod. “cool.”

he smiles. “good. next topic: positions.” you blinked, “there’s more than one?”

his laugh is soft, affectionate. “there are a lot. but for your first time, we should pick one that feels safest and lets me see your face. missionary’s the classic. I can also be on my knees with your legs over my thighs. or we can spoon. slow and close.”

you flush, trying to picture any of them. “you choose. I trust you.”

his gaze warms at that, softening again in that way you’ve only ever seen in rare moments.

“then we’ll go slow. missionary. but we can adjust anything if it gets uncomfortable. just tell me, alright?”

you hum a quiet okay, and then he leans in closer. “next,” he says, voice lower now, “I wanna know what turns you on.”

your eyes widen. “I—I don’t know yet?” he nods, unbothered. “that’s fine. that’s what this is for. we’ll find out together.”

his fingers trail up your bare thigh again, light and thoughtful. “some people like rough. some like being praised. some like being told what to do. or doing the touching. or slow teasing. you reacted to my voice earlier, when I praised you.”

you flush, remembering.

“I think you like being talked to,” he murmurs, his voice dipping, lips brushing your ear. “you like feeling good and hearing how good you’re doing. am I right?”

you breathe out shakily. “yeah…”

he smiles, kisses your neck. “good. that’s a start. anything you don’t want to try?”

you think. then shake your head. “i’ll tell you if something feels off.”

“perfect,” he says, then kisses you again. this time, his body presses more firmly into yours, and you can feel him — his cock heavy against your thigh through his boxers, thick and pulsing with restraint.

“last question,” he murmurs. “do you want me now?”

you meet his eyes. “yes.”

he nods once, slowly, and then everything moves like a softened blur: his fingers easing between your legs, gently checking, making sure you’re still wet, still relaxed. then him rolling the condom on with practiced care, breath hitching when your hand lingers on his hip.

when he kneels between your legs, you shift beneath him, legs opening, heart thudding in your chest.

“you sure?”

“yes,” you whisper again, this time steadier. “please.”

he exhales slowly — then reaches to guide himself to your entrance. “deep breath,” he says softly. “just relax.”

you did, and the first push is slow, barely there, until your body stretches around him. it’s strange, at first — tight, full, unfamiliar — but he holds still, whispering praise, letting you adjust.

“you feel amazing,” he breathes. “so warm, so tight. doing so good, baby.”

he kisses you through the sting, rubs your clit gently to distract you, and only when you nod again — wordless, aching — does he move. slow. so slow.

you feel him first, hovering over you, his body heat settling around you like a blanket, his fingers brushing your cheek so gently it almost makes you shiver.

the moment feels quiet, almost suspended in time, as if the air around you recognizes the shift — how the weight of what you’re doing finally lands between your ribs and expands there, soft and all-consuming.

su-ho’s gaze, as always, is steady and sure, but there’s a kind of reverence in his expression now, something new that makes your heart skip.

his hands are careful, so careful, as he rolls the condom down the length of his cock, fingers trembling slightly despite how composed he always seems. he aligns himself to your entrance, his eyes not leaving yours even once.

“tell me the second you feel uncomfortable,” he whispers, voice already low and thick. “and if you want to stop—”

“I won’t,” you murmur, fingers curling around his wrist where he steadies himself beside your head. “I just… want to know what it feels like. with you.”

he breathes out through his nose. closes his eyes for a second. and when they open again, they’ve darkened, not with lust alone, but something deeper. a kind of hunger laced with restraint. a kind of want that you know he’s held back for a while.

his hips move slowly, guiding the tip of his cock to your entrance, where you’re already soaked for him, eager and warm and open. he pushes in slowly, inch by inch, stretching you gently, pausing when he feels your breath hitch.

“okay?” he asks again, jaw clenched tight, the muscles in his forearm straining as he holds himself still.

you nod, voice barely a whisper. “keep going.”

so he does. gradually. so slow that every bit of him feels distinct as he slides into you — the stretch, the burn, the fullness of it. you gasp softly, head tipping back into the pillow, one hand flying to grip the sheets while the other stays pressed against his chest, feeling the thrum of his heart.

he doesn’t move for a long second once he’s fully inside, buried in you to the hilt. you can feel him shaking slightly, his breath warm against your shoulder, a soft groan vibrating in his throat as he tries to stay still.

“you’re so tight,” he finally breathes, and it sounds like a confession. “feels like you’re made for me.”

you feel yourself clench at his words, and he groans again, deeper this time. you nod, giving him permission, and that’s all it takes — he starts to move, slow and steady, each thrust a gentle press of his hips against yours, a roll rather than a sharp snap. the drag of him inside you is like nothing you’ve ever felt, so overwhelming and yet addictively good, like it lights something up inside you you didn’t know was there.

your legs wrap around him without thinking, pulling him closer, and the new angle has him hitting a spot that makes your mouth fall open. he notices immediately, adjusting again to make sure every thrust brushes right there.

“right there?” he asks, voice strained, lips brushing your ear.

“yeah,” you gasp, arms wrapping around his back now, clinging. “feels so—su-ho, please—”

“fuck,” he breathes, hips pushing deeper now, grinding down just enough to make your entire body tremble under him. “you’re so warm. you’re doing so well, baby.”

the endearment makes your stomach twist in the best way, and when his thumb drifts between your legs again, circling your clit in slow, practiced movements, it pushes you closer to the edge so fast your vision blurs.

he watches your face the entire time. every expression, every sound. he’s studying you with the same intensity he brings to everything else, but this time, it’s just for you.

“look at you,” he murmurs, watching the way your face twists with every grind of his hips. “taking all of me. like you were made for it.”

you moan, and he groans in return — like he’s feeling how much you want this. his pace picks up a little. not rushed, just deeper. more deliberate. your walls pulse around him and he curses again, biting back the urge to just let go.

“you don’t even know what you do to me,” he grits out, pressing his forehead to yours. “every sound you make—every little gasp—it’s fucking perfect.”

you can barely answer him, too focused on the slow roll of his hips and the weight of him inside you. but your hands move on their own, clutching his back, your nails dragging lightly across his skin.

he gasps. “shit—do that again.” you did, and he thrusts deeper. you whimper his name, and his rhythm stutters.

“you close?” he asks, thumb still moving, his cock grinding into that perfect spot over and over again.

“so close,” you manage, hips bucking up against his. “su-ho, i’m—”

“cum for me,” he whispers, his thrusts picking up, still deep but just a little faster now. “let me feel you.”

and you do. everything tightens, your legs locking around his waist, your walls clenching down on him so hard he groans your name like it’s a prayer, his forehead falling to your shoulder.

you tremble under him, your climax washing over you in waves, and it’s only a few thrusts later that he follows, hips jerking forward as he cums deep inside the condom with a low, desperate sound.

for a moment, the only sound in the room is your breathing, tangled and uneven, in sync. he stays there, bodies still connected, his weight resting gently over you, careful not to crush you but unwilling to pull away just yet.

he presses a kiss to your temple. then your cheek. then your shoulder. “you okay?” he asks again, softer this time. almost reverent.

you nod slowly, arms still holding him close. “yeah. better than okay.”

he exhales, and you feel the tension drain from him all at once. “you were… incredible.”

“you too,” you murmur, smiling into his neck. “best lesson ever.”

he laughs softly, and you feel it echo in his chest. “we’ll have to review next week, then.” you roll your eyes but kiss his jaw anyway.

you’re both still wrapped up in each other, limbs tangled and breathing gradually slowing down, the quiet hum of the night pressing in around you like a gentle lullaby. you didn’t move for a while, just letting his body settle over yours, the weight of him heavy and warm and safe.

his chest rises and falls in slow, even breaths right against your back, and you can’t help but feel a kind of calm you didn’t expect — like all the noise inside your head has finally quieted down. it’s strange how something so simple as just being held could feel like the most important thing in the world.

his fingers begin to roam gently, tracing soft, aimless patterns on your arm. the touch is featherlight, like a whisper, but it grounds you in a way nothing else can. you let your hand find his, fingers curling around his palm instinctively, and he squeezes back, the pressure steady and reassuring. no words are needed right now — the silence between you is comfortable, filled with understanding and something close to reverence.

“you did really well,” his voice is low, thick with a tenderness you haven’t heard from him before. “better than I expected.” there’s a pause, and you can hear him swallow the hint of vulnerability in his own admission. “i’m proud of you.”

you smile softly, your breath catching when he presses a gentle kiss just below your ear, the warmth of his lips lingering there like a promise. “you made it easy,” you say, voice barely more than a breath, but you mean it. it’s not just his skill — it’s how careful he is, how present, how much he respects you.

he shifts slightly, pressing another kiss against your temple, then your cheek, slow and deliberate like he’s memorizing every inch of your face. “we’ll go at whatever pace you want,” he murmurs, fingers weaving through your hair, the touch light and soothing. “there’s no rush here. this is your time. your experience.”

you close your eyes and lean into him, letting the softness of his words and the warmth of his skin wash over you. there’s no pressure, no expectations — just this quiet bubble of safety and trust you never knew you needed but always wanted.

your fingers trace lazy circles on his forearm, feeling the taut muscle beneath his skin and the steady beat of his pulse. “thank you,” you whisper, meaning more than just the moment. for the patience, for the care, for being the first person who made you feel like you could explore this without fear or shame.

he hums softly, lips brushing the nape of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “I want you to feel comfortable. to know that with me, it’s always okay to ask, to say no, to take a break—whatever you need.”

you nod against him, the trust between you deepening with every word. “i’m glad it’s you,” you say quietly. “I don’t think I could’ve done this with anyone else.”

he smiles against your skin, the movement gentle and full of warmth. “and i’m glad it’s you.”

time stretches around you both, slow and easy. you talk in hushed tones about everything and nothing —

about your favorite music, the dumb jokes he made that morning, su-ho’s surprising seriousness when it comes to protecting the people he cares about. your voices blend together like a quiet symphony, filling the room with something real and alive.

eventually, he shifts, pulling you closer into a warm embrace, your faces mere inches apart. “class tomorrow together, yeah?” he asks softly, thumb stroking along your collarbone. “i’ll walk you to every lecture. maybe we can grab something after.”

you smile, heart fluttering in a way that feels new but right. “i’d like that.”

it felt easy, honest. like something real could start from this, not because you were rushing into anything, but because there was trust here. because with him, it didn’t feel scary. it just felt right.

I stepped into the apartment, kicking off my shoes and dropping my bag by the door. My shoulders were killing me from the long day, and all I could think about was a hot shower and crashing into bed.

Suho was already home, I could hear the TV on low in the living room.

"Babe?" I called out, peeling off my jacket.

"In here," he answered. His voice was relaxed, a little tired too. I walked in and saw him on the couch in just sweatpants, no shirt, hair still messy from work. He looked up and smiled that soft smile that always made my stomach flip. "You look wiped."

"I am. Gonna shower real quick." I headed toward the bathroom, already pulling my shirt over my head.

The door clicked behind me, but before I could turn the water on, Suho pushed it open and slipped inside. "Mind if I join? I could use one too."

My heart picked up. We'd showered together before, but something about the way he was looking at me tonight felt different. Hungrier. I nodded, trying to play it cool even though my cheeks were already warm. "Yeah, sure."

He stepped closer while I finished undressing, his hands sliding around my waist from behind. His chest pressed against my back, warm skin on warm skin.

I could feel him already getting hard through his sweatpants. "Missed you all day," he murmured against my neck, kissing it lightly.

I turned around and kissed him properly, our mouths fitting together easy and familiar. His tongue slipped in, slow at first, then deeper. My hands ran up his chest, feeling the lean muscle for all that hard work he does.

Suho groaned quietly into my mouth when I tugged at his waistband. He helped me push his pants down, kicking them aside. We were both naked now, standing in the middle of the bathroom with the shower running hot, steam starting to fill the air.

"Get in," he said, voice a little rough.

I stepped under the spray first. The hot water felt so good on my sore muscles. Suho followed right after, closing the glass door behind him. Water cascaded over both of us, making his hair stick to his forehead. He looked ridiculously hot like this, wet, eyes dark, lips parted.

He grabbed the body wash and squeezed some into his hands, rubbing them together. "Turn around."

I did, facing the tile wall. His soapy hands started on my shoulders, massaging the tension away in firm circles. It felt amazing. He worked down my back, thumbs pressing along my spine. Then lower, cupping my ass, squeezing gently. I bit my lip when his fingers slipped between my cheeks, teasing.

"Suho..." I breathed.

"Relax," he whispered, kissing my shoulder blade. His hands moved around to my front, soaping up my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers until they were hard and sensitive. I leaned back against him, feeling his cock press against my lower back, fully hard now. He was thick and warm, twitching every time I moved.

I reached behind me and wrapped my hand around him, stroking slowly. The water made everything slick. Suho groaned, hips pushing forward into my grip. "Fuck, that feels good."

He rinsed the soap off me and spun me around, kissing me harder this time. Water poured over our faces but we didn't care. His hand slid down between my legs, fingers finding my clit right away. He rubbed in slow circles, then dipped lower, pushing one finger inside me. I was already wet, and not just from the shower.

"Always so ready for me," he muttered against my lips. He added a second finger, curling them just right. My knees felt weak. I held onto his shoulders, moaning into his mouth while he fingered me deep and steady.

I wanted more. I dropped down to my knees on the shower floor, the water beating on my back. Suho's cock was right in front of my face, flushed and leaking a little at the tip. I looked up at him as I took him in my mouth, sucking on the head first. He tasted clean from the water, skin hot. I bobbed my head, taking more of him each time, using my hand on what I couldn't fit.

"Shit, baby..." His hand went to my wet hair, not pushing, just holding. His thighs tensed every time I swirled my tongue around him. I loved how he sounded, breathy moans and quiet curses. I sucked harder, hollowing my cheeks, until he gently pulled me off.

"Stand up. I need to be inside you."

He turned me toward the wall again, hands on my hips. I braced myself, arching my back. Suho rubbed his cock against my pussy from behind, sliding it up and down, teasing my clit. Then he pushed in, slow at first, stretching me open. We both moaned at the same time. He felt so big like this, filling me completely.

"Fuck, you're tight," he groaned, bottoming out. He stayed still for a second, letting me adjust, kissing the back of my neck. Then he started moving, long, deep thrusts that made my tits bounce with each one. The sound of wet skin slapping mixed with the shower spray.

I pushed back against him, meeting every thrust. One of his hands reached around to play with my clit again, rubbing fast circles while he fucked me harder. My moans got louder, echoing off the tiles. "Suho... agh... right there..."

"Yeah? Like that?" He angled his hips and hit that perfect spot inside me. My legs started shaking. He wrapped an arm around my waist to hold me up, pounding into me steadily. Water ran down our bodies, making everything hotter and slipperier.

I came first, clenching around him hard, crying out his name. It hit me in waves, pussy pulsing. Suho kept going, fucking me through it, his breath ragged against my ear. "Good girl... so good."

He pulled out after a minute, turning me around to face him. "Leg up," he said, lifting my thigh. I hooked it around his hip. He slid back inside in one smooth thrust, deeper this way.

We were pressed chest to chest, kissing messily while he fucked me against the wall. My back kept hitting the tiles but it didn't hurt, it just grounded me while pleasure built again.

His pace got faster, more desperate. I could tell he was close. I clenched around him on purpose and he cursed, burying his face in my neck. "I'm gonna cum... where do you want it?"

"Inside," I gasped. "Please."

A few more hard thrusts and he groaned loud, hips stuttering as he came deep inside me. I felt every pulse, warm and full. He kept moving slowly through it, milking it out, until we were both breathing heavy.

We stayed like that for a bit, water still running, his cock softening inside me. Suho kissed me softly now, gentle and sweet. "You okay?"

"Mm-hmm. Really okay." I smiled, legs still shaky.

He pulled out carefully and grabbed the showerhead to rinse us both off. His hands were soft again, cleaning between my legs where his cum was starting to drip out mixed with the water. We laughed a little when I almost slipped, him catching me around the waist.

After we dried off, he carried me to the bed even though I said I could walk. We collapsed under the covers, naked and warm, my head on his chest. His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back.

"Shower was a good idea," I mumbled, already sleepy.

Also the type to flirt with you if you are arguing or lecturing him, he would leave you flustered and the topic would change. His love language is quality time, so expect some long night drives as he drives to nowhere in particular and you both talk about anything and everything.

He is a guardian angel, truly. To your surprise he always shows up everytime you need him. He always knows when to give you some space and when to cheer you up. When he is not working, he is laying in your lap and dozing off. Dinner and gaming dates are the most common with him, he would also take you to the arcade to play air hockey and kiss you every time he gets a point against you.

After he wakes up from a coma, he will try his best to recover and diligently do his rehab so he can make up for the time you couldn’t be together. He waits for you to visit him everyday. He is also the type to peel and feed you the fruits you brought for him. He just loves to spend time with you, doesn’t matter what you’re both upto, sharing a room while you both do your own thing is enough for him.

You’re pacing back and forth in front of your sister’s room, debating in your head. This feels insanely stupid and childish. You were close to Stephanie. This shouldn’t be hard to ask.  

“I can hear you drag your feet out there.” She finally calls out to you, tired of the incessant noise you were making.  

“Sorry.” You open her door and carefully shut it behind you. “I need a favor.” 

“What kind of favor?” She continues to type on her laptop. Her nails are freshly done in her classic pink shade. Her hair is curled so effortlessly. Her lash extensions look so natural on her. She’s beautiful. She’s always been so beautiful. 

“Um,” You find a spot on her freshly made bed and find a plushie to hug to ease your nerves. “There’s this guy...” 

The typing is put to a halt and Stephanie slowly turns around to face you, jaw dropped. You have never been interested in boys before. You asked your parents to enroll you in an all-girls high school, that’s how uninterested you were in them. Stephanie cannot believe her own ears. “Say that again.” 

“Steph... Please, it’s so embarrassing.” You hide your face in the plushie. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry! You’ve just never been into guys like that before.” She sits next to you on her bed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders comfortingly. “What’s wrong? What happened?” 

“I told a guy I liked him and...” You can’t even say it. It’s too humiliating. “He said I was too... ‘sweet’.” You groan, wishing that the memory of your crush rejecting you dissipates from your mind. 

“And what’s wrong with that?” She rubs your back gently. She’s so comforting and warm, sometimes you wonder if all sisters come built like this.  

You finally sit up straight and pout in her direction. She tilts her head with a consoling smile.  

“Nothing’s wrong with being sweet. Kindness is a strength and anyone would be lucky to have someone as kind as you are.” She gently places a hand on your cheek. “He doesn’t know what he passed on.” 

You feel like crying. She is one of the sweetest people you have ever met. She is the definition of perfection. You don’t know what you did in your previous life to deserve a sister like her. 

“It’s just...” You think for a second, biting your lips nervously. “I realize I don’t think I even know how to approach guys. Can you teach me?” 

Your sister’s brows rise in surprise.  

“You’ve had boyfriends before and you have guy friends.” You try to explain the logic behind the thought. You watch her think for a bit, examining your pitiful state (you imagine but you know she’s too sweet to think that of you).  

Then, like the fairy godmother that she is, she perks up and agrees.  

You have no idea what you just signed up for. 

-------- 

Stephanie, or as her friends call her: Tiffany, invited you to come study with her and her friends at the library. You hadn’t put too much thought into it. So, really, you should have expected this. 

You were met with a room of four men and your sister. Sorry, you forgot to add a bit more context. You were met with four extremely attractive men. How your sister met all these guys. You have no clue.  

“You found it!” Your sister stands up excitedly, hands settling on your shoulders. “Guys, this is my sister, Y/N. Please take care of her as if she was your own.” 

She introduces you to them individually.  

There was Minseok: the sports science major with fox-like eyes you wonder how many people have fallen in love with him just by staring into them, Yixing: the fine arts major who smiled sweetly at you before he went back to work, typing away on his laptop, Chanyeol: the music major with the loud voice and who was by far the friendliest and welcoming, and finally Junmyeon: the poli-sci major who immediately caught your eye – you couldn’t tear your eyes off him. 

You gulp nervously when Junmyeon smiles at you, his eyes look like they're shining. You weren’t aware how beautifully handsome someone could be. You wonder if he and your sister have ever dated. You feel like they would be the picture-perfect couple. 

“Sit here.” Your sister sits you beside Chanyeol who is already beaming at you. It’s kind of freaking you out. You cautiously take out your laptop and shoot him a nervous smile. Were all guys this friendly? 

"You look terrified.” Chanyeol grins at you. He’s right. You are. You have never been in the same room as these many guys before. “Don’t worry, we don’t bite.” He says before shooting you a comforting smile and putting his headphones back on.  

Curiously, you peek a glance at his screen. Your mouth opens in amazement when you see a complex looking screen with a bunch of colourful bubbles that you don’t think you’ll ever quite understand. Chanyeol feels your stare and pauses his work. “Do you want to hear?”  

You nod timidly. He smiles and puts the headphones over your ears. He presses play for you, biting on his lip in anticipation. Your eyes immediately widen in amazement. His voice was the perfect mix of smooth and raspy. Your ears couldn’t believe what you were hearing.  

“You made that?” You can’t tell if you’re yelling but Chanyeol is laughing at you and you can’t help but smile back. Interacting with a man seems easy. He nods, shoulders shaking from laughing. “It’s really good!” 

Chanyeol loses his shit and throws his head back before taking the headphones off. 

“Sure, Chanyeol, destroy my sister’s hearing.” Tiffany says sarcastically before she turns back to Junmyeon who laughs subtly through his nose. She listens intently to him as he gets serious again and explains a concept to her. You watch as his lips purse as he talks – pink and glossy, likely from the constant licking he was doing from talking so much. Your sister doesn’t even look at him when he explains. It’s blowing your mind. This is the first time you are seeing your sister do something wrong. Because Junmyeon looks absolutely stunning. You don’t think you would even be able to concentrate if he was your tutor. You don’t even notice that Chanyeol is asking you a question.  

“He’s handsome, huh?” Chanyeol leans in closer so only you could hear him. You jump in your seat and almost fall off when you see how close he is to you. He catches you before you fall. 

“What did you think of my song? It’s my final project.” He asks as if he didn’t just catch you ogling his friend. 

"I-It was really good!” You stutter like an idiot. You make the mistake of glancing at Junmyeon and your sister who are both staring at you with concern. Of course they are. They’re perfect people. Perfect people who check on the condition of others.  

You avert your attention back to the comforting presence that is Chanyeol.  

“Ohh! Thank you! I’m so glad you like it.” He cheers and grabs something from his pocket. “Here, have a candy.”  

“Are you Pavlov-ing her to like your music?” Junmyeon finally talks loud enough for you to hear and your ears melt. His voice is soft but not in the way that makes him look weak, more in the way that makes people want to listen to what he has to say. But most importantly, you melt because he’s funny too. 

“No! She genuinely likes it. Right, Y/N? You’re not lying to be polite?” Chanyeol looks at you expectantly, head tilted playfully with big eyes staring into you. 

“N-No! I would never!” You shake your head quickly and turn to Junmyeon to show him that you do enjoy Chanyeol’s music.  

When you do, your hearts races.  

He’s fully smiling at you, eyes crinkled into crescent moons, wrinkling the corners of his eyes beautifully. You don’t think you’ve ever seen someone smile so brightly like that before. 

“I’m just teasing, Y/N.” He laughs it off before returning his attention to your sister. 

The heavy feeling in your chest returns as you spend the entire study session sneaking glances at your sister and Junmyeon. 

-------- 

Stephanie’s first step in her guidebook to getting familiar with men is a success. She’s happy to see that Chanyeol has made an impression on you.  

“Oh, hey Chanyeol. What’re you doing in my kitchen?” She asks in her pink silk set and matching fluffy pink slippers. She just woke up, yet she looks so put together. 

“Chanyeol and I are going to go for a run!” You exclaim, blender in hand.  

“That explains the headband.” She taps Chanyeol’s head teasingly before she clicks on the kettle to start boiling her water. Stephanie has a glass of warm water every morning, says it’s good for her metabolism and gut health.  

Your sister takes care of her body with a fragility and femininity touch, focusing on what feels right for her body. You take care of your body by putting it through heavy lifting and tracking your macros. 

Stephanie does pilates and spin while you powerlift and jog.  

“That’s good. You finally found a jogging buddy.” She scrunches her nose at you, booping it affectionately. “Chanyeol, I didn’t know you ran.” 

"Not as fast as Y/N.” He smiles in your direction as you pour your magic smoothie that boosts your energy before a run. He has a taste of the green coloured mix, still skeptical. You watch the light in his eyes return and his ears perk up realizing that you haven’t poisoned him. “This is delicious!”  

Chanyeol chugs the rest of the drink while you giggle, pouring yourself a glass. 

Stephanie stops the kettle midway as not to get to a boil and eyes you both as she drinks her warm water. 

“Hm...” She hums, small smile appearing on her lips.  

“What’s so funny?” You raise an eyebrow in confusion. 

“Nothing.” Her grin doesn’t get any smaller. 

Weird. 

-------- 

Stephanie had texted you that the group would be meeting at the same study room you’ve all grown accustomed to. You arrive a lot earlier than the others, opting to study a bit more before you had to be in the same room as Junmyeon. You were in for another distracted session for sure. 

You find a spot on the couch near the room that’s still being used by other students. You check the time and pull the tiny coffee table closer to you and get settled. There’s still lots of time to get some work done. You manage to get a head start on your final essay at the end of the semester, drafting the structure and topics you want to highlight. Maybe you should do a bit more of the reading too.  

A hand waves in your face, disturbing the current flow state you were in. 

You raise your gaze at the culprit in annoyance, brows furrowed. 

They quickly raise in surprise instead when you see Junmyeon’s bright smile directed at you. Your mouth is slightly agape. Your hand shakily moves your headphones from your ears, wrapping your neck instead. It’s a bit hard to breathe when he’s looking at you so prettily.  

“Can I sit with you?” Junmyeon gestures the empty spot next to you and you scooch a bit to make space. 

“O-Of course! Come sit!” You feel like hitting yourself on the head. If Stephanie was here, she would 100% be giggling to herself with how ridiculous you’re acting around him. But how can you act normally when he smells like a fresh basket of laundry and his smile is bright enough to light the city?  

“Looks like there’s still people in there.” He makes small talk as he situates himself beside you. He gets comfortable in his seat. He’s wearing the university’s hoodie paired with baggy denim jeans. It’s a simple outfit most people throw on lazily but on him, it looks curated and intentional like he was going for the college boyfriend look. You must be going crazy. Junmyeon’s chuckle breaks you from your reverie. 

“Sorry? I wasn’t listening.” 

“I figured. I was asking what you were working on.” He’s amused by you. You would too if someone acted a fool around you.  

“Oh.” You say, as if you couldn’t believe he would be interested in what you were doing. “My final essay for intro to psych. I was just drafting it. I figured I’d start early so I don’t rush it later.” 

“Psych?” He tilts his head. “I thought you were a Kinesiology major.”  

You’re surprised he knows this. He’s never asked you this before. Stephanie probably told him when introducing you to the group. 

“It’s just an elective my advisor suggested.” You shrug. It wasn’t your first choice but you were growing to like it. It’s just a course to get through the first semester.  

“I took it my first semester too. Let me see.” He scoots closer to you and turns your laptop slightly to see your notes. The whole library probably heard the sharp breath you just took the second he got close to you. “Relax, I’m not going to judge.” 

He scoffs at your reaction; the edge of his lip rising in amusement. You wonder if the library also hears how loud your heart is racing right now.  

“Colour-coded notes... Cute.”  

Your hand flies to your mouth to cover the ridiculous smile growing on your face. Your cheeks were burning and hurting. You look around the library, anything other than Junmyeon’s unnecessarily perfect and smooth face and pursing lips as he concentrated to read your notes. Your eyes set sight on Chanyeol and you can’t help but feel relief, letting go of the breath you were holding. 

“Chanyeol!” You exclaim, jumping up to greet him. He raises an arm for you and you give him a side hug. 

“Hey Y/N.” His smile eases the tension built in your chest. “Hey Junmyeon. Were you guys studying together?” 

Junmyeon slowly leans away from your laptop and gives Chanyeol a small nod. “I was just looking at her notes.” 

“Ah.” Chanyeol says, shifting his eyes between you two. “The study room’s empty if you guys want to move in there.” 

Junmyeon nods politely, closing your laptop. He grabs it and your backpack too.  

“Oh, you don’t have to do that!” You reach to take your stuff from him but he pulls it slightly away, insisting. 

“It’s right there, Y/N. I got it.” He reassures you with that warm smile of his. 

If the library didn’t hear your heart before, you’re sure they’ve heard it now. 

-------- 

“I don’t know about this, Steph...” You pull down on Stephanie’s skirt she lent you for this party. 

“It’ll be fun! Chanyeol will be there.” Your sister hooks an arm around yours excitedly. She’s like a puppy the way she yaps and jumps around you.  

“Okay?” You raise an eyebrow at the mention of Chanyeol. You didn’t want him to see you like this either. 

“All I’m saying is this could be the perfect opportunity to practice how you flirt with guys.” She explains, dragging you to the front entrance where a line has already been formed to get in. 

“It’s a frat house.” You say, scanning the crowd of beautiful women and attractive men. She is throwing you into the ocean and you can’t even swim.  

“They’re normal guys too, you know.” She senses your judgement. 

“No, they’re not! They drink and party, probably do keg stands too!” You try to say it as lowly as possible as not to offend literally everyone here tonight.  

“Not all of them.” 

“Name one.” 

“Junmyeon.” 

“Oh.” 

“Tiffany! Y/N! Come inside!” Minseok’s voice disrupts the moment, waving for you both to come in. You hear a bunch of groans and complaints behind you that you will choose to ignore. Of course your sister had an in to this party. You just didn’t know it would be because of the same boys you formed a study group with. 

“Just try to have fun. If you feel uncomfortable, find me or Chanyeol.” It’s the last thing she says before she’s being dragged in all sorts of directions by different people. You don’t even get the chance to respond. This is her second time mentioning Chanyeol. Did she like him or something? 

The reminder sets off something in your head and you’re met with the realization that you really don’t want to be here. Your skirt was way too short. There were too many people screaming, drinking and dancing. You just don’t fit in.  

You try scanning the crowd for Chanyeol but you don’t find that giant head of his anywhere. Feeling hopeless, you go up the stairs. It might be a bit quieter there. Without thinking, you open the first door you see. 

“Oh, sorry!” You say when you see a pair of legs on a bed. 

“Y/N?” 

You freeze at the door then come to your senses when Junmyeon leans forward, guitar on his lap. He waves you in with a smile on his face. He removes his headphones and puts his guitar back on the stand. You enter, closing the door behind you. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were in here.” You apologize and sit at the edge of his bed, pulling on your skirt before it rides any further. His room is a bit messy which was not what you expected of him. He just seems like such a clean guy – he does smell like one after all.  

There was a chair with a bunch of clothes on it. There were also a bunch of rock posters plastered on his walls: The Beatles and Coldplay for instance. You thought he’d be more into classical music or maybe musicals. Something classy. He is full of happy surprises. 

“Don’t worry about it.” He waves you off. He gets up from his bed and grabs a hoodie and sweatpants from the pile of clothes. “You look uncomfortable. Do you want to borrow these?” 

Your heart races once again. 

You nod and Junmyeon hands you his clothes before turning around to let you change. You wear the sweats over your crop top and skirt. It smells so ridiculously like him. You take one last sniff before sitting criss-cross on his bed, a lot more comfortable now.  

“You play guitar?” You try to avert your attention from the overwhelming feeling in your chest. 

He turns around, hearing you get on his bed. He’s staring at you with a glint in his eyes. His cheekbones pop out when he grabs the guitar again.  

“Yeah! Do you want to hear?” He sounds so excited to show you, grabbing the headphones and handing them to you. You smile and let him put them over your ears instead - his fingers brushing over your red ears. You’re glad your hair is covering them. 

“Tell me if it’s too loud.” 

You nod, biting on your lip unconsciously. The more you got to know him, the more your attraction for him grew. He was different from your expectations in the best way possible. 

He starts playing a beautiful riff. There is something about the electric guitar that makes it sound as sensual as it is romantic. You stop yourself from leaving your mouth agape, biting on your cheek nervously. There’s a pit growing in your stomach that you’ve only ever felt once in your life when you read a explicit book for the first time. You avoid eye contact with him when he stops. 

“Was that bad? You didn’t seem to like it.” Junmyeon’s smile is present, but his brows show you that he seems a bit embarrassed.  

"No!!” You shake your head vigorously and finally meet his eyes. It’s taking a lot in you not to cry, finding it frustrating that you don’t know how to be comfortable around him. “It was genuinely beautiful. I’ve never heard that song before.” 

“Oh, thank you. I wrote it.” He tells you casually. 

This man can’t be real.  

“You wrote that? You’re so talented! Why aren’t you in music with Chanyeol?” You ask in disbelief. He shrugs, leaning forward to help you take off the headphones. 

“It’s just a hobby. I want to be a lawyer.” He places the blue strat back on the stand next to his bed and leans against the headboard. The image is a bit too much for you. Seeing him in an oversized t-shirt and pyjama pants feels too intimate. You stare into his eyes, distracting yourself from how good he looks sprawled out on his bed. 

“Ohh, well I think you’re really gifted.” You compliment him one more time. “What other hidden talents do you have?” 

He laughs, his eyes smiling at you brightly once again. “You’re cute.”  

You swoon. You’re shocked you haven’t fallen off his bed over that comment. 

Maybe it’s because making him laugh feels like one of your greatest accomplishments. You hope you can make him laugh over and over again so you can hear that beautiful sound nonstop. 

“Just the one. What about you? Can you play?”  

“No, no. I only listen to music. I can’t make it.” You wave your hands embarrassingly. You don’t really have hobbies, unless you count the gym as one. 

“Sure you can. Here, I’ll show you.” He moves off the bed and nudges you to turn your body to the left. You follow, letting your legs fall off the bed. He places the guitar on your lap and crouches in front of you. His fingers wrap around your wrist and places them on the neck.  

“Relax your fingers.” He taps twice on your knuckles and for the first time tonight, he eases your tension even with the next thing he says. “Good girl.” 

He does all the work, placing your three fingers on three strings in a row. There’s something so calming with the way he touches you. He’s being so gentle with you. 

“Strum.”  

You listen to him, strumming the guitar with your thumb like you see musicians do all the time. You’re shocked to hear a cohesive sound.  

“Woah.” 

“Not bad, right?” He beams as he looks up at you with those dark and glossy eyes. You’ll probably dream of them tonight. 

“No. It was really fun-” 

“Junmyeon, have you seen-” 

Your head turns to see Chanyeol at the door, holding onto the doorknob. He blinks once, twice, before saying something. 

“... Y/N.” He finishes his sentence with a blank stare. You’ve never seen him like this before. Chanyeol was always so perky and happy to see you. 

“Hey Chanyeol! Junmyeon was just teaching me a chord.” You say innocently, not putting too much thought into it. Junmyeon stands up from the ground and that’s when you see Chanyeol’s eyes widen ever so slightly.  

“You’re wearing his clothes.” He says, completely ignoring what you just said. 

“She looked uncomfortable, so I lent her some clothes. I hope that’s okay.” Junmyeon clears up any misunderstanding for you. 

“Of course it’s okay.” Chanyeol’s usual tone and facial expression returns. “Your sister is looking for you.” 

“Ah.” You try to put the strat back on the stand but Junmyeon grabs it for you. “Thank you for spending time with me, Junmyeon.”  

“No, thank you. Good night, Y/N.”  

You shoot him one last smile before disappearing behind the door and back into the loud party with Chanyeol. Your heart is still in disbelief of what just happened. 

Chanyeol escorts you to the kitchen where Stephanie is talking to some other friends. She finally sees you by Chanyeol’s side and tilts her head curiously with a sly smile. You wonder what she’s up to with that mischievous grin on her face. 

“Hi Y/N~” She says with a little playful tone. She must be tipsy. She suddenly looks up at Chanyeol with the brightest smile. “Thanks, Chanyeol, for bringing my sister to me~”  

“It’s no problem.” He replies, tone still a bit different than you’re used to. 

Stephanie hooks her arm around yours with the same cheeky grin she’s been sporting since you got here. 

“I’m so happy for you!” She randomly squeals in your ear, making you laugh at how silly she’s being.  

“Happy for what?” You indulge her, just happy that she’s happy. 

“Come on, you’re wearing Chan-” 

“SHOTS!!” Yixing comes out of nowhere with a tray full of tiny cups and shoves them in our faces. Your sister grabs two: one for her and another for presumably you. She doesn’t say much, only winking at you and downing the drink. 

You follow her lead and immediately gag at the awful taste and burn in your throat. 

You wish you could sneak back into Junmyeon’s room and learn the guitar just a bit longer. 

-------- 

You can’t stop thinking about Junmyeon. Even as you’re highlighting notes in your textbook, you don’t halt your thoughts for a second. The way his fingers were delicately touching yours. The way he smiled when you complimented his song. And the way he noticed immediately how uncomfortable you were in Stephanie’s clothes. Junmyeon was making it insanely hard to get over this silly crush on him. 

“Y/N.” Chanyeol calls your name and your bubble bursts. He smiles when he sees you come back down to Earth. “I wanted to talk to you about something.” 

“Sure.” You say, adding the cap back on the highlighter and put all your attention onto him. 

“It’s a bit out there. And I hope this doesn’t affect our friendship.” Chanyeol looks really nervous. He’s rubbing his pen with his thumb and you can feel his leg shaking under the table. 

“It won’t. I can’t afford to lose a jogging buddy.” You joke, taking a sip from your bottle. 

“I just want to make sure I’m not reading this wrong. But do you like Junmyeon?” 

Caught off guard, you choke on your drink. You tap your chest to clear the liquid from your throat. Chanyeol also helps, patting your back. 

“W-What- How did you?” 

“You’ve liked him since the day we all met, right?” Chanyeol cuts you off. He’s looking at you expectantly like he’s being a good cop and you’re the criminal he’s interrogating. “I can tell by the way you look at him. And I’m saying this to you as a friend who wants to give you advice - which you can take or not of course.” 

You didn’t know you were being that obvious around Junmyeon. 

“You should tell him how you feel.” Chanyeol’s eyes soften and he looks... sad? He isn’t - hasn’t been his usual jolly self since the party and you’re unsure why. 

“But what if he rejects me? Like the other guy? I’m so scared, Chanyeol.” Your gaze lowers to your hands on your lap. This is embarrassing. Chanyeol was able to read you at first glance and you were still stuck in square one, unable to talk to your crush without dysfunctioning and having your heart jump out of your chest. 

“You won’t know how he feels until you tell him. You have to tell people how you feel when you feel them, Y/N.” He stops and thinks for a second before resuming. “Otherwise... You might miss out on other opportunities.”  

“I can’t even be myself with him. I get so nervous and jittery. I’m not ready.” Your head falls onto your textbook in embarrassment. “I just want to be as calm with him as I am with you.” 

Chanyeol scoffs and makes you turn your head so your cheek was on a page and you were facing him instead.  

“I promise you you’ll get there with time. That’s just what having a crush feels like.” He pats your head gently and smiles at you comfortingly. You could always count on him to cheer you up.  

You straighten yourself and go for a hug. “Thank you so much Chanyeol.”  

It takes him a second before wrapping his arms around you tightly. His head rests at the top of your head while his hand rubs your back.  

“Don’t mention it.” 

The hug is cut short when you hear the door to the study room open. 

“Oh, sorry we didn’t mean to interrupt.” Stephanie comes in with the same twinkle in her eye as that time at the party. Junmyeon is right behind her. He shoots you a faint smile before shifting his eyes to the floor, not even greeting you or Chanyeol with enthusiasm like he usually does. 

Did you offend him somehow? 

Maybe you accidentally said something at the party. You think hard to that night. But nothing comes to mind. You thought Junmyeon and you had a really good time for the short time you were together. 

You purse your lips, trying not to let it get to you. What if you missed the window of opportunity like Chanyeol warned you? 

“Oh shoot. I forgot my textbook in my locker. I’ll be right back.” Stephanie says as she rummages through her purse. “It’s so far though…” 

“I’ll walk with you.” Chanyeol stands up and follows your sister out the door, passing you with a comforting pat on your back. You exhale as you realize what he’s doing. 

Your eyes follow Junmyeon as he sits in his usual spot across from you. He’s still quiet, refusing to look at you. 

A thought crosses your mind. 

“Um, Junmyeon…”  

He lifts his head instinctively, finally meeting your eyes. You can tell he’s silently regretting it. There’s a gloomy look in his gaze and you really want to make him feel better. 

“I just wanted to thank you for lending me your clothes on Friday. It was really nice of you.” You clear your throat to calm the nerves. Somehow you’ve convinced yourself that the reason he won’t reply and probably hates you is because you haven’t returned his clothes yet. “I promise I’ll get them back to you. I just wanted to wash them first.” 

“There’s no need for that.” Junmyeon’s smile returns but it’s too polite… too nice. It doesn’t feel like him. His genuine smile is contagious and warm, not cold and foreign. His gaze goes back to his laptop as yours don’t leave his form. 

You’re pouting now. This somehow feels worse than the first time you got rejected. Probably because you actually know the guy this time. 

You have to tell people how you feel when you feel them. 

“Junmyeon!”  

His eyes widen and he’s staring at you all freaked out. You don’t think you’ve ever raised your voice at anyone before. 

“I- I-” The confidence is quick to fade away but you have to keep going. “I like you. And I’m sorry if I’ve offended you somehow but I thought we got along really well on Friday and- and whatever it is you have a problem with, please tell me now because I’m going crazy here.” 

Junmyeon stares at you in what you think is a look of disbelief.  

“Or don’t. Please ignore what I said.” You sit back down and focus on your laptop, moving your cursor all over your screen, not necessarily clicking on anything. 

“You like me?” He breaks the silence, lips curving into a smile. 

But it’s quick to leave his face. And there’s a pit growing in your stomach. 

“Yes.” You say nervously, biting on your lip. It feels like an eternity waiting for him to say anything else. He’s thinking really hard, you can tell by the way he purses his lips. The face is all too familiar. It’s the same face your first crush had when he was rejecting you. You want to bury yourself under a bunch of sand and let the ocean take you out with a big wave. “I-It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. I won’t take it personally-” 

“Wait, no.” Junmyeon’s eyes shift to you then to the door. “Um, come.” 

Before you knew it, Junmyeon grabs your wrist and pulls you up and out of the study room, leaving all your belongings behind. 

“My laptop...” You pout as he brings you to one of the empty aisles of the library. 

“They’ll be back soon. Don’t worry.” Junmyeon comforts you but it’s not enough to ease the anxiety that’s blown out of proportion inside of you. You just want to shake out the rejection from his mouth. He brought you here so you wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of your friends. That must be it. You’re Stephanie’s inexperienced younger sister, of course he wouldn’t want you- 

“Listen,” He starts and you hold your breath. “You’re really nice and sweet.” 

Here it comes. 

“I just... want you to think about this a little bit more. We’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks. You’re just getting over a different guy. I don’t want to rush into things so quickly...” He says a bit too fast, like he’s trying to get rid of the words and get this over with. He’s looking at you with a softened gaze like he’s handling a dried bouquet of flowers and trying not to make a mess before he throws it into the trash.  

“Oh, no worries. I get it.” You wave him off like it’s no big deal; the sting in your eyes burning extra hard. The shake in your voice isn’t hard to ignore either. “I’m sorry for making things weird.” 

“Y/N... Wait, that’s not-” He tries to reach for you but you retreat first.  

“No, really, it’s okay.” You force a smile before turning back and rushing to the study room. The tears come out a lot easier than it is to stop them. 

You open the door and are met with four pairs of eyes staring at you. 

Stephanie is the first to get up and check on you. You dodge her and grab your things, slinging your bag onto your shoulder before you head to the door. 

“Y/N? What’s wrong? Where’s Junmyeon?” You hear Chanyeol’s voice behind you and his chair screech to check on you too. Overwhelmed, you leave the room and head anywhere else. 

“Y/N, slow down.” Your sister is quick to follow you. She’s always been fast to be by your side. You don’t slow your pace though, walking even faster so she doesn’t see the tears running down your face. 

So she follows. She’s with you the only way you’re letting her. 

She trails behind you when you finally walk out the doors of the university and stop, unsure where to go next. She places a hand on your back and pulls you in for a side hug. 

“Come, my car’s this way.” She says, pulling you in the direction of her parking spot. It’s not a far walk but it’s enough to calm you down from the heightened emotions. 

“Tell me what’s wrong, Y/N. So I can help you.” She asks when you finally get inside her car, giving you a moment to settle your breath before speaking. 

Stephanie’s voice is filled with warmth and comfort. She feels like the sun and you can’t help but look her way. 

“I confessed to my crush.” You tell her shyly. “And he rejected me. Again.” 

You can’t believe you let this happen again. 

She frowns. 

“But you came in crying and Chanyeol was in the room.” 

It’s your turn to raise your eyebrow at her.  

“What do you mean by that?” You ask, unsure what she’s hinting at. 

“Your crush? Isn’t it Chanyeol?” She asks like you’re the one who is lost. 

You blink at her, once, twice. 

“… Junmyeon. I told Junmyeon I like him and he rejected me.” 

You can see the horror flash in Stephanie’s eyes and she covers her mouth. 

“What?” You ask, mirroring her reaction. “Why’s this so hard to believe?” 

“I’ve… I’ve been telling Junmyeon how you’ve been crushing on Chanyeol…” She says quietly, voice low and ashamed of what she’s done. You frown. When have you ever told her you were into Chanyeol?  

You’re just getting over a different guy. Suho’s voice rings in the back of your mind. And that sentence finally starts to make sense to you. You thought he was talking about the first guy who you were definitely over. 

“Y/N… I am so sorry. I can fix this!” Stephanie immediately goes on her phone and starts typing on her phone. 

“Steph, what are you doing?” You watch as she nervously types, erases, types and erases. 

“I’m texting Junmyeon right now.” She says frantically. You’ve never seen your sister so stressed out before. 

“What? Why?” You take her phone and delete the message. “He doesn’t like me! That's not going to change.” 

She steals her phone back and puts it away on her lap. 

“No, Y/N, I think he does.” She deadpans. 

“I was so fixated on you and Chanyeol. I didn’t put two and two together that you would be interested in Junmyeon. Oh god, I think I made a mess.” She continues. Her face is mixed with embarrassment and an eagerness to share her new-found revelation. “But Junmyeon definitely likes you.” 

You don’t even know how to respond to her. She must have lost her mind. As if she sees the confusion on your face, she persists. 

“He’s always asking about you.” She insists. 

“Stop lying. He’s just being nice.” 

“No, before I introduced you to the guys, he’s never once asked how my sister was, what your major was, what your schedule was or if we were meeting with you and the study group - even though I’m pretty sure you’re very comfortable talking to the opposite sex now and the study group is very much not needed anymore.” Stephanie looks very serious and… convincing. You can’t tell if this is just Stephanie’s communications bachelor’s talking.  

“Y/N, how exactly did he reject you?” 

You fold your lips into your mouth nervously. 

Now that you think of it… You can’t remember the exact words.  

It felt like a rejection. 

Stephanie sees the hesitation in your face and for the first time, you see your sister get annoyed with you. 

“We’re fixing this.” 

-------- 

Stephanie has you pacing back and forth in front of Junmyeon’s fraternity house. She had dropped you off under the premise that you were going to a cute coffee shop to study for the upcoming midterms.  

It’s been 15 minutes and she still hasn’t returned. She really did abandon you at the front steps like some stray cat. You feel your stomach turn as you approach the door. With a big gulp, you ring the doorbell. 

You release the tension from your shoulder when Minseok opens the door with a bright smile. 

“Y/N! Tiffany said you’d be stopping by.”  

Your shoulders tense up again. You hope she didn’t tell them anything. Although, they did see you walk into the room with tears in your eyes. It would be weird if they hadn’t figured it out on their own. 

“Junmyeon’s the first to the right.” He invites you in and throws a hand in the direction of the familiar room. So he does know. Great. 

“He hasn’t really talked to any of us about what happened. Just been cooped up in his room playing the guitar.” Minseok pats you on the back and lead you to the stairs. “Just talk to him.” 

You nod and find your way up the stairs that brought you to him the first time. You open the door to find him in the same position, legs straight on the bed, his cute feet covered in socks and moving to the rhythm of his music. You peek your head through to let yourself be seen but find his eyes closed and headphones on. Unsure how to approach this, you shut the door a little harder than you would usually.  

He doesn’t budge, still strumming along the blue strat.  

You bite your bottom lip and do the unthinkable. 

You tickle his foot. 

Junmyeon almost kicks you, eyes wide in surprise. Once it registers that it’s you, his body relaxes and he rushes to take off his headphones.  

“I’m so sorry! Did I hurt you?” He comes to your side and inspects you for any damage he might have done.  

“You didn’t even touch me.” You reassure him, offering him a small smile. You don’t let him say another word before you let yourself ramble. 

“Junmyeon, I came to say I’m sorry for the way I reacted. I rushed out of there and didn’t let you finish. I really do enjoy spending time with you and I hope that we can still stay friends. And maybe you can still teach me the guitar?” You finally say the words you had been practicing in your head this whole week. The heavy weight on your chest has finally been lifted and your conscience is now cleared. It’s now up to Junmyeon to accept being your friend. You wait for him to smile and say no worries, let’s just forget alllll about it. And you can try to move on from his beautiful brown eyes that disappear when he smiles. 

“But I don’t want to be friends.” He frowns. 

And the heavy feeling returns.  

“Oh.” 

“No, no.” He approaches you, hands reaching your sides awkwardly as if he didn’t want you to run off in tears again. “Please don’t misunderstand. I like you. Like, really really like you.” 

“Oh.” You were so ready for him to reject you kindly that this didn’t feel like an actual option. You didn’t think Stephanie would be right, but of course she was. It’s Stephanie. 

“Please stop saying oh.” He bites onto his lip nervously, almost looking like he’ll cry right then and there. 

“I’m sorry. I’m just having such a hard time believing any of this is real. But that’s my problem not yours.” You say, backing away from his hold. 

Junmyeon pulls you in for the hug, wrapping his arms around you and refusing to let you run away again. It takes you a couple seconds to react but you snake your arms around once you’ve come to your senses that Kim Junmyeon is hugging you. You rest your cheek against his chest and you smell the familiar scent of his laundry you’ve grown addicted to. You feel his every tense muscle soften around your body. 

“I’ve liked you ever since you walked into that study room looking all nervous to meet a bunch of guys. To be honest, when Stephanie first approached me, I thought it was a bit weird. We had only been study partners, and suddenly, she wants me to help her with her inexperienced sister.” He pulls away a bit so he can look at you as he confesses to you how he feels. Your heart stops when his lips curve into a smile and he laughs at the memory of Stephanie being Stephanie and doing the most to help you. 

“But when you were yelling at Chanyeol with those headphones on, I was hooked. You looked so cute. I couldn’t wait to talk to you. I wanted to know more. I’ve never felt so curious about a person before.” He admits, resting a gentle hand on your cheek. “I couldn’t understand how someone so cute could ever get rejected.” 

You gulp when his eyes flicker to your lips.  

“Cute.” He mutters to himself before kissing your cheek and making your face unintentionally burn up. “So no, I don’t want to be just friends with you, but I would love nothing more than to take you out on a date and take our time getting to know one another.” 

Your heart races at an impossible speed. 

“And maybe guitar lessons?” You manage to mutter out like an idiot. 

Junmyeon’s smile quickly morphs into the one you love so much, brightening the room and warming your heart. 

“Maybe.” 

Unable to contain your happiness, you return the smile and give him a quick peck on his lips. 

“Well, it’s a definitely, now.”

✰ bonus ova here ✰

chananyeol bong: y/n is sucha big fluff ball omfg shes so oblivious that two men are fighting for her affection. if only that was meeeeee </3 (not really i would hate that) i hope you guys enjoy!!!! this was supposed to be 2k words MAXXXX but idk i let the writing gods take the wheel on this one. 🙏🏼😊 there's going to be a part 2 but the story is basically done!! part 2 is just a bonus for us!! 💓💘

and of course a happy early birthday to kim junmyeon!!! ilysm ty for being the rock of the family you sweet sweet boy!!! 🥹😭💖💗💌💘

this is y/n btw:

the impact comes fast and hard. suho squeezes his eyes shut when he loses balance. his body twists in an attempt to keep itself safe, adrenaline momentarily taking over. 

his leg hits the ground first. the weight of his motorcycle presses into his calf, sending a searing pain through his body. and then it’s his shoulder. the road is unforgiving as he slides across it, finally coming to a stop in a nearby crosswalk. 

it takes a few seconds before he comes back to reality. suho blinks, squinting up at the light from the streetlight above. a man hovers over him, hands on his shoulders and eyebrows knitted into a worried expression. “are you okay?”

suho coughs. the air has been knocked out of his lungs all at once. his muscles burn when he moves to sit up, but he can’t feel any blood. that’s good, he thinks. 

the man’s hands are on his shoulders once again, gently pushing him back down. suho wants to protest but he can’t seem to force the words out. “relax, kid,” the man says. “an ambulance is on its way.” 

an ambulance. suho curls his hands into fists. that’s not what i want.

he turns back towards the man, swiping his tongue over the fresh cut in his bottom lip. “phone,” he croaks. his voice breaks but he swallows and tries again. “a phone.” 

the man nods, frantically reaching into his pocket. his fingers fly across the screen as he opens the dial pad, holding it out towards suho. suho types in your number almost unconsciously. the numbers feel like they’ve been engraved into his mind. suddenly, the painstaking days he had spent memorizing them seem worth it. with trembling hands and teary eyes, he holds it up to his ear. 

the phone rings twice before you answer with a quiet click! your voice is soft, maybe a little unsure when it plays through the speakers. “hello?”

“y/n,” suho’s voice shakes. “i need help.” 

the world tilts.

police lights show the way when you arrive. hues of red and blue flicker in the now-empty street. caution tape stretches across the road. in the middle, suho’s motorcycle lays forgotten on its side. there’s a patch of exposed metal on the side, the paint left on the asphalt below. a small crowd of onlookers has gathered. their idle chatter fills the otherwise quiet night. 

you push through their bodies; your shoulders knock against your own and their elbows feel sharp when they meet your ribs. your chest burns as your lungs beg for air. your heart has refused to stop hammering in your ears. it’s too loud, blocking out the rest of the world like the soundtrack of a bad movie. it feels like there’s not enough air in the atmosphere. 

“hey!” two hands grip onto your shoulders, dragging you backwards. the man’s voice is gruff - loud and commanding. his nails dig into the fabric of your school blazer. “this is a restricted area! you can’t be here!” 

“i need to see him.” you’re panting now. air fills and leaves your lungs in short gasps. your teary eyes scan the area to no avail. despite your best efforts, suho is nowhere to be seen among the sea of bodies. “please - is he okay?” 

the officer scoffs. his grip tightens when you squirm in his grasp, attempting to hold you steady. “who?” 

“y/n!” your breath catches in your throat. suho raises his arm over his head, waving behind another officer. you watch as he flags a different officer down, saying something before he points in your direction. her gaze is cold when it lands on you, but you ignore it. your eyes refuse to leave suho. 

she approaches quietly, leaning in near the officer still-holding you. she stares at you for a second - suspicious and calculated. then, she says, “it’s alright.” 

you can almost feel the officer holding you flinch in surprise. he glances at her for a moment before relenting with a quiet nod. his hands slip away before he takes a step back, releasing you from his grasp. 

you scramble to push your body beneath the caution tape in a hurried, jumbled mess of limbs. suho follows your lead, rushing to your side. the police lights just barely illuminate his features. his eyebrows are furrowed, lips curled into a soft frown. thick, white bandages are wrapped around his hands. the sleeve of his windbreaker has been rolled up to his elbow, exposing a patch of raw skin on his forearm. 

suho raises a hand, resting it against your cheek. his skin feels warm on the cold night. your hands tremble. you reach up, hesitantly wrapping your own hand around his wrist. you’re not sure if you’re seeking comfort or refuge. 

you squeeze your eyes shut, leaning into the comforting feeling of his hand. “i’m okay,” suho says quietly. he brushes his thumb against your cheek. his fingertips just barely wipe away the tears that roll down your face. “it’s only road rash. i’m okay.” 

“i thought…” you sniffle. the world blurs through your teary eyes. your lips part for a second, but no words come out. you don’t say it out loud. you don’t need to. i thought you were dead. “i was so worried.” 

suho smiles - soft and sad and in a way only he could. his fingers dance along your skin as he reaches up, pushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. you move without thinking. your hands grip onto the front of suho’s jacket, curling your hands into fists. a silent plea passes between you: don’t go. 

“come here,” he murmurs. 

the dam breaks. 

a sob rips itself from your throat. tears roll down your cheeks in waves. your already shaky legs falter. suho reaches out almost immediately, wrapping his arms around your waist. he pulls you in until your bodies are pressed together. your hearts beat in tandem. 

suho leans in, burying his face into the crook of your neck. soft strands of his bangs tickle against your bare skin. you just barely register the feeling of his own tears falling before the dissipate into the fabric of your uniform. 

“i’m okay,” suho whispers. his breath ghosts against your ear. he twists his head to the side just enough to press a chaste kiss against your cheek despite the salty taste of your tears. his hands rub against your lower back, fingertips tracing miscellaneous shapes wherever they can reach. “everything’s okay.” 

notes: thank you so much for requesting!! i hope you like it :)) didn't want it to be too angsty so i decided on more of a hurt comfort fic, as someone who rides motorcycles i'd like to get on my soapbox for a minute to say please wear proper gear when you ride, not proofread!! forgive any mistakes, title from bts - serendipity, weak hero reqs are greatly appreciated!!

the snowdrops began to drift down, catching in his hair. you tried to summon the anger from the night before—he’d been glued to his phone, completely ignoring you, making you feel mad enough to lock yourself in the guest room. but the sight of him shivering with that ridiculous bouquet made you involuntarily smile.

you couldn’t find the words to explain to her why he was standing there. flustered, you pushed through the heavy glass doors and stepped outside. the moment junmyeon’s eyes landed on you, he scrambled toward you, moving stiffly from the cold, and he looked like he was about to cry.

junmyeon offered you a massive bucket of flowers. “babe, i’m sorry.” his voice cracked slightly. “i’ve been an idiot.”

you stayed frozen, your hands buried deep in your pockets. the flowers were beautiful, but the anger hadn’t fully evaporated. when you didn’t reach for the bouquet, junmyeon’s eyes widened with a flash of genuine panic, dropping to his knees right there on the salted pavement.

“junmyeon, get up!” you hissed, heating up despite the snow. you could feel your coworker’s gaze, and a few passersby slowed their pace to watch the scene unfold.

“i’m not moving until you forgive me,” he declared, though his teeth were chattering so hard the words barely came out.

“you’re making a scene!” you glanced around frantically. “everyone’s looking at us!”

“let’em look.” he held the bucket up. “i-i’m sorry. i’ll put the phone away. i’ll throw it in the river if you want. just… forgive me, please.”

you grabbed his arm, tugging upward with all your strength, but junmyeon anchored himself to the sidewalk.

“stand up!” you pleaded. “the sidewalk is wet, you’re going to ruin your coat!”

junmyeon clutched the base of the flower bucket like it was his only lifeline. “i’ll stay here until my knees freeze to the ground if that’s what it takes for you to believe me. i was wrong. i-i’m a terrible listener, and i’m a fool...”

“i believe you! just get up!” you gave another desperate yank on his sleeve, but he stayed put, looking up at you with those wide bunny eyes that were starting to water from the freezing wind.

his breath hitched. “i hate myself for making you feel like that… god, i’m so idiot…”

junmyeon looked so pathetic—kneeling in the slush, snowflakes melting on his eyelashes. you looked back at the office windows, seeing your coworkers watching the show, and realized there was only one way to end the spectacle.

“fine! i forgive you! just get up before you catch a cold!”

his face lit up as he scrambled to his feet. he lunged forward, dropping the heavy bucket to the side and burying his frozen face into the crook of your neck. he squeezed you so hard that the flowers were nearly flattened between your coats.

“what were you thinking, junmyeon? you’ve been out here for who knows how long in a thin coat, acting like a madman! you’re shaking, you—”

you stopped abruptly. against your skin, you felt a sharp, shaky intake of breath, followed by a muffled sob. you pulled back and cupped his face with your warm hands, forcing him to look at you. his eyes were filled with tears, carving paths through the frost on his cheeks.

“are you crying?” your heart ached at the sight. “jun... i said i forgave you.”

“i know.” he leaned into your palms, closing his eyes as if he were finally finding safety. “i’m just... i’m a mess because i love you so much. when you walked away last night and locked that door, i-i was so scared that i’d finally pushed you too far, and the thought of losing you—i couldn’t breathe… sleeping without you is torture.”

junmyeon took a jagged breath, his bottom lip trembling. “i don’t ever wanna be the reason you feel alone again. i’m so sorry.”

you didn’t wait for him to finish. you leaned in and pressed your lips to his, a firm, warm kiss that effectively cut off his rambling. it was a gesture meant to ground him—to prove that despite everything, you were still right there.

his icy hands came up to rest tentatively on your waist. when you finally pulled back just an inch, his eyes fluttered shut in relief. but the reality of the situation came rushing back to you. glancing over his shoulder, you could recognize the ones who were watching.

“you’re forgiven,” you whispered, embarrassed. “but i’m gonna kill you for this.”

he blinked, looking confused. “for... for the flowers?”

“for the theatrics!” you gestured wildly toward the building. “my entire department just watched you beg on your knees in a puddle! you have any idea what the breakroom talk is gonna be like tomorrow? ‘oh, look, it’s that whose boyfriend turned into a human popsicle for forgiveness!’”

junmyeon looked at the window, then back at your flushed face. “well, at least they know i’m committed?”

“you’re impossible!” you groaned, slowly pulling your hands away from his face. “let’s go home. if we stay here any longer, someone’s gonna start filming.”

junmyeon laughed and scooped up the heavy bucket. he hooked his free hand firmly into yours, squeezing your fingers tight. he didn’t let go for the entire walk to the car, seemingly proud of the scene he’d caused, while you kept your head down, already planning your speech for work the next day.

“i love you, babe.” now junmyeon was the one who initiated the kiss as a last scene.