#sunoo fics

that part snuck up on you slowly, then all at once. first it was admiration—the way he planned everything three steps ahead, the way he never seemed rattled even when things went wrong. then it was fascination—the contrast between his delicate features and the absolute brutality he was capable of, the way he hummed cheerfully while cleaning blood off his knives. and then somewhere along the way it became this. this aching, desperate, all-consuming thing that lived in your chest and made it hard to breathe when he looked at you for too long.

you memorised his coffee order (iced americano, extra shot, barely any water because he was a psychopath apparently), the way he liked his knives arranged (smallest to largest, always within arm's reach), the exact angle his mouth curved when he was genuinely amused versus when he was pretending. you knew he tapped his fingers against his thigh when he was thinking, that he rolled his shoulders back exactly twice before a fight, that he had a tiny scar behind his left ear that you only saw once when his hair was wet.

it was embarrassing how much you noticed. how much you cared.

and the worst part? he absolutely knew. had to know. because you weren't subtle, not even a little bit. you volunteered for every job he mentioned, stayed up late sharpening his weapons even though your hands cramped, laughed too loud at things that weren't that funny just because he was the one saying them. you were obvious and desperate and so fucking transparent it hurt.

he never said anything about it though. never acknowledged the way you looked at him, never called you out on the fact that you basically reorganised your entire existence around him. he just let you orbit him like some pathetic satellite, close enough to be useful but never close enough to actually touch.

tonight started like any other night. you got back from a job—something small, just roughing up some hero-wannabe who was getting too close to one of sunoo's operations—and you were still riding the adrenaline high. your knuckles were scraped, your shirt had someone else's blood on it, and you felt alive in a way you never did doing anything else. sunoo had that effect. he made even the violent things feel like they mattered, like you were part of something bigger.

you found him in the main area of the warehouse, surrounded by his collection. that's what you called it in your head—his collection. knives of every size and style, some plain and practical, others ornate and clearly expensive. he was meticulous about maintaining them, spending hours with whetstones and oil, handling each blade like it was precious. like it was loved.

you wondered sometimes what it would feel like to be handled like that. with care. with attention. with those elegant fingers tracing over every detail like it mattered.

god, you needed help.

"you're back early," he said without looking up from the blade he was cleaning. the silk cloth in his hand was already stained red—whether from today or yesterday or last week, you couldn't tell. "did he give you trouble?"

"no. he folded pretty quick." you dropped your jacket on the back of a chair, trying not to wince at the bruise forming on your ribs. it was nothing serious. you had worse. "threatened to call in backup though. might want to move up the timeline on the next phase."

"mm. predictable." he set down the knife he was working on, finally glancing up at you. his gaze swept over you quickly, cataloguing injuries with the efficiency of someone who did this a thousand times. "you're hurt."

"it's nothing."

"i didn't ask if it was nothing. i said you're hurt." he stood then, moving toward you with that fluid grace that made your mouth go dry. "sit."

you sat. because you always did what he told you to do, because you were completely gone for him and had zero self-respect apparently.

he pulled out the first aid kit—the actual one, not the piece of shit drugstore version you kept in your bag—and started cleaning the scrapes on your knuckles. his touch was gentle, almost tender, and it made your chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with the bruised ribs. this was the worst part. when he acted like he cared, like you were more than just a useful tool. it made you hope for things you had no business hoping for.

"you need to stop leading with your right," he murmured, wrapping gauze around your knuckles with practiced ease. "you're too obvious. anyone paying attention would see it coming."

"noted." your voice came out rougher than intended. he was so close, close enough that you could smell his cologne, could count his eyelashes if you wanted to. could see the way his lips parted slightly when he concentrated. "i'll work on it."

"you better. i don't need my best enforcer getting sloppy." he finished with your hands and moved on to checking your ribs, fingers pressing carefully against the bruised area. you hissed at the contact and he made this sympathetic sound that absolutely destroyed you. "not broken. you'll be fine in a few days."

"i'm always fine."

"because i take care of you." he looked up then, meeting your eyes, and there was something in his expression you couldn't read. something that made your stomach flip. "someone has to."

you wanted to ask what he meant by that. wanted to ask if he felt even a fraction of what you felt, if he ever thought about you the way you thought about him, if he ever lay awake at night replaying conversations and analysing every word for hidden meaning. but you couldn't. because if he said no, if he confirmed what you already knew—that this was one-sided and pathetic and you were just setting yourself up for heartbreak—you'd shatter into so many pieces you'd never find them all.

so instead you just said, "thanks."

he smiled at that. small and private, like you said something amusing. "you're welcome, sweetheart."

and there it was. that stupid pet name that made your entire nervous system short-circuit every single time. he used it so casually, like it didn't mean anything, like he didn't know it made you want to do something insane like grab him and kiss him until neither of you could breathe.

he packed up the first aid kit and went back to his knives, settling into his chair like nothing happened. like he didn't just touch you with those careful hands and call you sweetheart and make you fall even more impossibly in love with him.

you moved to the other side of the table, pulling out the whetstone and selecting one of his knives to sharpen. it was something to do with your hands, something to focus on that wasn't the way your heart was still racing or the phantom feeling of his fingers against your skin. you fell into the familiar rhythm—the slide of the blade against stone, the steady pressure, the high-pitched ring of metal being honed to a perfect edge.

this was safe. this was manageable. you could handle sitting across from him, sharing space, existing in his orbit as long as you had something to concentrate on. as long as you didn't think too hard about how domestic this felt, how right, like you were two halves of something that fit together perfectly.

you were at it for maybe twenty minutes when you felt his eyes on you. that prickling awareness that came from being watched, the weight of his attention making your hands want to shake even though you kept them steady through sheer force of will.

"you're staring again," he said without looking up, and there was this amused lilt to his voice that made your stomach flip. he knew. he always knew when you were looking, when your thoughts went somewhere they shouldn't, when your breath caught because he moved too close or smiled that specific way that made you want to do something stupid.

"sorry," you mumbled, forcing your eyes away, focusing instead on the knife in your hands. you were sharpening them for the past hour, hands steady even though your pulse wasn't. even though being this close to him made your skin feel too tight, made every nerve ending hyperaware of the space between your bodies.

he laughed. it was soft, almost fond, which was worse somehow. "no you're not."

and he was right. you weren't sorry. you'd never be sorry for looking at him, for memorising the curve of his smile, the way his eyes crinkled when he was genuinely amused versus when he was about to kill someone. you catalogued every detail of him like your life depended on it. maybe it did.

the sound of his footsteps made you tense before you felt his presence behind you, close enough that you could smell his cologne—something expensive and sharp that made your head spin. his hand came down on the table beside yours, fingers splayed, and you could see the old scars across his knuckles, the elegant length of his fingers. he was so close. too close. not close enough.

"we have a job tomorrow," he said, voice low and right by your ear. your hands stilled on the whetstone, breath catching. "the heroes are sending their best. should be fun."

fun. he called it fun. you called it watching him dance through combat like he was untouchable, like nothing in the world could hurt him, while your heart tried to claw its way out of your chest because what if this was the time something went wrong? what if—

"you're thinking too loud," sunoo murmured, and then his fingers were under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his eyes. they were so dark, pupils blown wide in the dim light, and there was something in his expression you couldn't read. something that made your stomach drop and soar at the same time. "i'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. i've told you this."

the pet name made heat crawl up your neck. he used it sometimes, always with this teasing edge that made you want to combust on the spot. you knew he didn't mean it the way you wanted him to mean it. knew he saw you as useful, as entertaining maybe, but not—

his thumb brushed across your bottom lip and your brain short-circuited.

"you know what i like about you?" he asked, conversational, like he wasn't currently making your entire nervous system malfunction. like his touch wasn't burning itself into your skin in a way you'd never recover from. "you're so easy to read. every thought shows on your face."

oh god. if he could read your thoughts then he knew—he knew about the embarrassing dreams, the way you watched him constantly, the fact that you'd burn the entire world down if he asked you to. the fact that you were so stupidly, desperately, pathetically in love with him it physically hurt sometimes.

you tried to pull away but his grip tightened, not painful but firm, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. "i didn't say you could move."

your heart was hammering so hard you were sure he could hear it. "sunoo—"

"shh." his thumb pressed against your lips, silencing you, and his smile was sharp enough to cut. "you're always so obedient. it's almost boring."

that stung. you knew you were boring compared to him, knew you were just—just there, useful for sharpening his knives and handling the boring logistics and worshipping the ground he walked on like some kind of devoted dog. but hearing him say it made something crack in your chest.

you bit down on his thumb. not hard enough to break skin but enough to surprise him, to show some kind of spine even though your hands were shaking. his eyes widened fractionally before something dangerous slid across his features, something that made every survival instinct scream at you to run.

you didn't run. you never ran from him.

"there she is," he breathed, and he sounded almost delighted. his hand moved from your chin to your throat, not squeezing, just resting there, and you could feel your pulse jumping against his palm. "i was wondering when you'd stop being so scared of me."

"i'm not scared of you," you managed, voice rough. it was true. you weren't scared of him. you were scared of how much you wanted him, how you'd let him ruin you completely and thank him for it, how there wasn't a version of your future that didn't have him in it.

"liar," he said, but he was smiling now, really smiling, and it made him look younger. softer. like maybe underneath the villain there was still some part of the boy he must have been before. "you're terrified. but not of me hurting you."

his fingers flexed against your throat and you stopped breathing.

"you're scared i don't want you back."

the world tilted. your ears were ringing. had he just—did he mean—

"i—" you couldn't form words. your brain had completely shut down, every thought scattering like startled birds. "what?"

sunoo leaned in closer, so close his breath ghosted across your lips, and his eyes were so dark, so intense it felt like falling. "you think i don't notice? the way you watch me, the way your breathing changes when i get close, the way you'd do anything i asked without question?" 

his voice dropped lower, almost a purr. "you think i don't know you're completely obsessed with me?"

you wanted to deny it. wanted to salvage some scrap of dignity. but what was the point? he was right. he was always right about you.

"and what if i am?" you whispered, because fuck it. fuck pride, fuck self-preservation. you were already his in every way that mattered.

his smile turned wicked. "then you should know something." his thumb traced your jawline, gentle in a way that made your chest ache. "tomorrow, during the fight. one of them is going to get lucky. you're going to see something that might scare you."

your blood went cold. "what do you mean?"

"you'll see." he pulled back slightly, expression unreadable. "just remember—i told you i'm not going anywhere."

"sunoo, if you're in danger—"

"i'm not the one in danger, sweetheart. i never am." there was something strange in his voice now, something almost vulnerable. "the heroes are. they just don't know it yet."

he pressed a kiss to your forehead and pulled away completely, leaving you frozen at the table, heart in pieces, mind racing.

tomorrow. something was going to happen tomorrow. something that would scare you. but you'd be there anyway, because where else would you be except at his side, watching him tear through heroes like they were nothing, bleeding devotion from every pore?

you were so fucked.

the abandoned district was perfect for what sunoo had planned. empty warehouses stretched out in every direction, windows shattered and walls tagged with graffiti, the typical place heroes loved to use for their dramatic confrontations. you perched on a rusted fire escape three stories up, exactly where sunoo told you to wait, and tried to keep your breathing steady.

you hated this part. the waiting. the watching. being stuck on the sidelines when you were perfectly capable of fighting alongside him.

it was always like this. sunoo never let you join the actual fights, not the important ones anyway. he'd let you handle the small stuff—roughing up informants, dealing with low-level heroes, the grunt work that kept his operations running. and you were good at it. you'd proven yourself over and over, taken down targets efficiently and without complications. but the moment things got serious, the moment real danger showed up, he stuck you somewhere safe and told you to watch.

it drove you insane. made you feel useless, like some helpless thing that needed protecting instead of the competent fighter you'd worked so hard to become. you'd asked him about it once and he'd just given you this soft and unreadable look and said, "humour me."

so here you were again, benched, watching him stand in the centre of the street below with his hands in his pockets, looking like he was waiting for a bus instead of an ambush.

"relax," sunoo called up to you, and you could hear the smile in his voice even from this distance. "you're so tense i can feel it from here."

"maybe because there's supposed to be five of them," you shot back, fingers gripping the railing hard enough to hurt. "and you won't let me help."

"you are helping. you're watching." he pulled out one of his knives—the small one, the one he used for warmups—and examined it in the dim streetlight. "making sure no one tries to run. very important job."

"sunoo—"

"we've talked about this, sweetheart." his voice was still light but there was an edge to it now, that tone that meant the discussion was over. "you stay up there where it's safe. this is non-negotiable."

you wanted to argue. wanted to climb down there and prove you could handle yourself, that you didn't need to be protected like some fragile thing. but you knew that tone. knew it meant he'd already made up his mind and nothing you said would change it.

it didn't make sense anyway. sunoo was invincible—literally, actually invincible. you'd watched heroes land hits that should have shattered bone and he just shrugged them off like they were nothing. watched him take knife wounds and gunshots and falls that would kill anyone else, and he'd just stand back up without a scratch. he'd never even bled in front of you, not once in two years. his superpower made him untouchable in a way that should have meant he worried about himself, not you.

but he did worry. kept you away from danger with an almost obsessive focus, like the thought of you getting hurt was worse than anything the heroes could do to him.

you were about to tell him exactly how annoying that was when you felt it—the shift in the air that meant they were here. heroes. you'd gotten good at sensing them over the past two years, the way they moved with that self-righteous confidence, like the world owed them something for existing.

they came from three directions at once. the one in front was taehyun, some rising star with enhanced strength who'd been making headlines for taking down minor villains. flanking him were two others you didn't recognise—a girl with electricity crackling between her fingers and a guy who looked like he could bench press a car. the last two dropped down from the rooftops behind sunoo, cutting off his escape routes.

classic hero formation. surround and overwhelm.

sunoo just laughed.

"taehyun, right?" he said, spinning the knife between his fingers in that casual way that made your stomach flip even now, even in the middle of this. "i've heard about you. something about justice and protecting the innocent?" he tilted his head, fox-like eyes glinting with amusement. "boring."

"kim sunoo," taehyun said, and his voice had that hero quality—all noble and dramatic. "you're under arrest for—"

"yeah, yeah, crimes against humanity, murder, blah blah." sunoo waved his free hand dismissively. "can we skip the speech? i have plans later."

the electricity girl didn't wait for permission. she lunged forward, hands crackling with power, and you stopped breathing because she was fast, faster than you expected, and her fingers were reaching for sunoo's throat and—

he moved.

it wasn't even a dodge, really. more like he just wasn't there anymore, sliding to the side with that liquid grace that made violence look like dancing. his knife flashed once, twice, and suddenly electricity girl was stumbling back with shallow cuts across her arms, blood blooming bright against her costume.

"first blood," sunoo said cheerfully. "anyone else want to try?"

they all moved at once.

you'd seen sunoo fight before. watched him take down heroes and villains and anyone stupid enough to get in his way. but it never stopped being mesmerising, the way he moved through combat like he was performing, like every strike was choreographed for maximum effect. his knives caught the streetlight as they spun, as he ducked under the strongman's punch and came up slashing, as he used taehyun's own momentum against him to send him crashing into a wall.

he was playing with them. you could tell by the smile on his face, the way he hummed under his breath between strikes. this wasn't a fight to him, more likev entertainment.

one of the heroes from the rooftop—a speedster with silver hair who moved almost too fast to track—managed to get behind sunoo and land a solid kick to his spine. you heard the impact from three stories up, heard the way it should have done damage, but sunoo just turned around slowly, rolling his shoulders back twice—that pre-fight tell you'd memorised—and smiled. "nice hit."

not a scratch, not even a bruise forming all thanks to his invincibility. it was like the hit never happened.

the speedster went for another strike and sunoo met him halfway, knife finding the gap in his defences like he'd known exactly where it would be. like he'd planned for it. blood sprayed and the speedster went down hard, clutching his leg.

taehyun roared something about protecting his team and charged again, enhanced strength making the ground crack under his feet. his fist connected with sunoo's jaw in a hit that should have broken bones, should have knocked him unconscious, should have mattered.

sunoo's head snapped to the side from the impact.

and then he straightened up and grinned, completely unharmed, looking absolutely delighted.

"my turn," he said.

what happened next was terrifying in how easy he made it look. sunoo moved through them like they were nothing, knives finding soft spots and weak points with surgical precision. the strongman went down with a knife in his shoulder. electricity girl tried to taser him and he let the electricity hit him full force, let it crawl across his skin in a way that should have stopped his heart, and just caught her wrist mid-attack, twisted, sent her crashing into the speedster who was trying to get back up.

taehyun lasted the longest, his enhanced strength letting him trade blows with sunoo in a way that would have been impressive if it made any difference. but even he couldn't do anything that stuck. every hit that connected—and there were several, hard enough that you felt them in your own bones—sunoo just absorbed like they were gentle taps.

you watched taehyun land a hit to sunoo's ribs that cracked the concrete behind him. watched him get thrown into a wall hard enough to leave an impact crater. watched electricity crawl across his entire body in a sustained attack that made the streetlights flicker.

and sunoo just kept going.

he fought the way he did everything else—with casual, terrifying ease, like the concept of being hurt didn't apply to him.

because it didn't. nothing could hurt him. that was his power, his gift, the thing that made him untouchable and terrifying and invincible.

"impossible," taehyun gasped, on his knees now, one arm hanging useless. "nothing works. nothing even slows you down."

"mm. perceptive." sunoo crouched in front of him, knife spinning lazily between his fingers. "you know what your problem is? you keep trying to hurt me. but you can't." he leaned in closer, voice dropping to something almost intimate. "no one can. i'm invincible, hero. completely and utterly untouchable."

"everyone has a weakness," electricity girl spat from where she was slumped against the wall. "everyone can be hurt by something."

sunoo's expression shifted. something flickered across his face—dangerous and possessive and real in a way that made your breath catch. "mm. true."

he stood, brushing imaginary dust off his jacket. there wasn't a mark on him. not a scratch, not a bruise, nothing to indicate he'd just fought five enhanced heroes. "but my weakness isn't here. and even if it was, you'd never reach it."

he stepped over taehyun's prone form and walked away, hands in his pockets, humming that same melody from earlier. like he'd just finished a light workout instead of taking down five enhanced heroes.

you were down the fire escape before you consciously decided to move, feet hitting the ground and carrying you toward him. he caught you easily when you crashed into his chest, arms coming around you, and you hated how good it felt. how safe.

"told you," he murmured into your hair. "nothing to worry about."

you pulled back just enough to look at him, hands fisting in his jacket. "you let him hit you in the ribs. you let the electricity girl taser you for like ten straight seconds."

"had to make it interesting." his fingers came up to cup your face, thumb brushing across your cheekbone. "can't just dodge everything. that would be boring."

"you're insane."

"and you're beautiful when you're worried about me." his smile was softer now, private, meant just for you. "even though you know nothing can hurt me. isn't that interesting?"

you didn't know what to say to that. didn't know how to explain that knowing he was invincible and watching him take hits were two different things. that your heart still stopped every time even though your brain knew he was fine.

"come on," he said, taking your hand. "let's go home."

the walk back to the warehouse was quiet. sunoo kept his fingers laced with yours, thumb stroking absent patterns against your skin, and you tried not to think about how natural it felt. how right.

"you know why i don't let you fight with me," he said eventually, and it wasn't a question.

"because you're overprotective and slightly unhinged?"

he laughed, soft and genuine. "well, yes. but also because you can get hurt. you don't have invincibility. you're human and fragile and one lucky hit could—" his fingers tightened around yours. "i can't risk that."

"i can handle myself."

"i know you can." he pulled you closer as you walked, until your shoulders brushed. "i've seen you fight. you're good. really good. but good doesn't matter when you're going up against enhanced heroes who could kill you by accident. and i—" he stopped walking, turned to face you fully. "i can't watch you get hurt. i won't."

there was something raw in his voice. something that made your chest ache.

"nothing can hurt me," he continued, quieter now. "i've tested it. knives, bullets, fire, electricity, falls from buildings, poison, everything. i'm completely invincible. but that doesn't mean i don't understand pain." his hand came up to cup your face, thumb tracing your bottom lip. "i just experience it differently now. through you."

your breath caught. "sunoo—"

"so humuor me," he murmured. "stay safe. stay where i put you. let me keep you away from things that could hurt you. because that's the only thing that actually scares me anymore."

you didn't know what to say. didn't know how to process the fact that he'd just admitted you were his weakness, his only weakness, the one thing that could touch him in a world where nothing else could.

"okay," you whispered, and his smile was devastating.

"good girl."

***

the warehouse was exactly as you'd left it—knives still spread across the table, first aid kit still out from earlier even though you both knew he'd never need it. sunoo headed straight for his chair and started pulling out his weapons, laying them on the silk cloth with careful precision. they were all dirty. blood and god knows what else staining the metal.

you grabbed the cleaning supplies without being asked and settled into the chair across from him, reaching for the first knife. it was automatic now, this routine. he fought, you cleaned. he destroyed, you maintained. two halves of something that worked.

"not that one," sunoo said, plucking the blade from your fingers. "start with the small ones. work your way up."

you rolled your eyes but switched knives, selecting one of his favorites—a thin stiletto with a pearl handle. your hands were steadier than they should be as you wiped away the blood, as you checked the edge for damage. muscle memory from hundreds of nights just like this one.

except tonight was different. tonight felt charged somehow, the air between you thick with something unspoken. maybe it was what he'd said during the walk back. maybe it was the way he kept looking at you, dark eyes tracking every movement.

maybe it was the fact that you were aware now. aware of every breath, every small shift. the way his knee was almost touching yours under the table. the way his fingers moved over his knives with the same careful attention he'd touched you with earlier.

"you're holding it wrong," he said after a few minutes, and then he was standing, moving around the table, and your mouth went dry because he was right there, pressed against your back, his hand covering yours on the knife.

"i'm holding it the same way i always do," you managed, but your voice came out breathless and you wanted to die.

"mm. and you've always done it wrong." his fingers adjusted your grip, tilting the blade at a different angle. his hand was cold against your wrist, long fingers wrapping around easily, and you could feel his breath against your neck. "like this. see the difference?"

you didn't see anything. couldn't see anything past the fact that he was touching you, that his chest was pressed against your shoulders, that if you tilted your head back even slightly it would rest against his collarbone.

"better," he murmured, and his thumb stroked once across your pulse point before he let go and stepped back. 

you forced yourself to focus on the knife, on cleaning the blood from the blade with hands that shook slightly. he settled back into his chair and picked up another weapon, and you tried not to notice the way he watched you. the weight of his attention making your skin feel too tight.

the silence stretched between you like a living thing. 

"you're being quiet," he said eventually.

"just thinking."

"about?"

about how you just told five heroes i'm your weakness. about how you keep me away from danger like i'm something precious. about how you said you experience pain through me now. about how i want to touch you so badly it physically hurts. about how i'd let you ruin me and thank you for it.

"stuff," you said instead.

he laughed, soft and low, and it slid down your spine like honey. "liar."

you looked up and found him already watching you, and there was something in his expression that made your breath catch. something hungry and knowing. like he could see straight through you to all the desperate, pathetic thoughts you were trying so hard to hide.

"i'm going to kiss you," he said, casual as discussing the weather. "eventually. when you're ready."

your brain short-circuited. the knife clattered against the table and you barely noticed. "what?"

"you heard me." he leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, looking absolutely delighted by your reaction. "but not yet. you're not ready yet."

"i'm not—" you couldn't even finish the sentence. couldn't form coherent thoughts past the sudden, overwhelming certainty that you were extremely ready. had been ready for approximately two years.

"you think you are," he said, reading your mind again somehow. "but i want you to understand what it means first."

"understand what?"

"that if i kiss you, i'm keeping you." his eyes were so dark, pinning you in place. "that you're mine. that i don't share and i don't let go." he tilted his head, studying you. "that the only person in the world who matters to me is the same person i'd burn the world down for."

the air felt too thick. you couldn't breathe. couldn't think past the absolute certainty in his voice, the way he said it like it was fact, like there was no other possible outcome.

"so take your time," he continued, picking up another knife. "figure out if that's what you want. because once we start this, sweetheart, there's no going back."

you stared at him. at this beautiful, terrifying, impossible man who'd just offered you everything you'd ever wanted and told you to think about it. like you hadn't already decided. like you weren't already his in every way that mattered.

but you didn't say that. instead you picked up your knife and went back to cleaning, hands somehow steady despite the way your heart was trying to punch through your ribs.

you could feel him smiling without looking up.

the rest of the night passed in that same charged silence, every small movement loaded with meaning. his fingers brushing yours when he handed you a new blade. the way his knee pressed against yours under the table. the absolute suffocating awareness of his presence, his attention, his want.

by the time you finished cleaning the last knife, you were wound so tight you thought you might shatter. sunoo stood and stretched, shirt riding up just enough to show a sliver of skin, and you looked away before you did something stupid like stare.

"go home," he said softly. "get some sleep. we'll talk more tomorrow."

you wanted to argue. wanted to stay. wanted to grab him and kiss him and tell him you didn't need time to think, that you'd already chosen him the moment he offered you something that mattered.

but you just nodded and gathered your things, because he was right. you needed to think. needed to process what he'd said, what it all meant.

the next morning, sunoo acted like nothing happened.

you showed up at the warehouse around noon, earlier than usual because you'd barely slept, mind racing with everything he'd said the night before, everything he'd implied with those careful touches and devastating words. 

you found him at the table organising his knife collection like it was just another day, and he looked up when you walked in with that same casual smile he always wore, the one that gave nothing away. "coffee's on the counter. still hot."

he didn’t mention the fight, or the charged silence while cleaning knives, to the way he'd touched you like you were precious, to the fact that he'd basically told you he was in love with you and then sent you home to think about it. he was just normal. perfectly, maddeningly normal, like the night before had never happened at all.

"thanks," you said slowly, watching his face for any sign of something, anything that would indicate he remembered what he'd said, but his expression was perfectly neutral. friendly in that distant way that made your chest ache with something sharp and painful.

he went back to his knives without another word and you grabbed the coffee, made exactly how you liked it because of course he knew, because he paid attention to every single detail about you even when he pretended not to care. 

you settled into your usual chair and the silence felt different now, heavier somehow, weighted with all the things he'd said and apparently didn't mean. you kept waiting for him to say something, to reference what had happened, to look at you the way he had last night like you were the only thing in the world that mattered. but he didn't. he just hummed under his breath while he polished his blades and acted like you were exactly what you'd always been. his sidekick. his weapon cleaner. his nothing.

it made you want to scream.

"we have a job tonight," he said eventually, still not looking at you, still focused on the knife in his hands like it was more interesting than you could ever be. "information gathering. should be simple."

"okay."

"you'll handle the south entrance. i'll take north. in and out, no engagement."

"sure."

he finally glanced up and for just a second, barely a heartbeat, you thought you saw something flicker in his expression. something soft and vulnerable that made hope bloom stupidly in your chest. but then it was gone and he was back to business, back to treating you like an employee instead of someone he'd held close and whispered promises to. 

"good. be ready by eight."

you wanted to ask what the fuck last night was about. wanted to demand he explain why he could say things like i've been yours since the moment i found you and then act like you were just another person on his payroll. wanted to grab him by the shoulders and make him look at you properly, make him acknowledge what had happened between you. but you didn't. because maybe you'd imagined it all. maybe you'd read too much into his words, into the tension that had felt so real, into everything. maybe this was just how he was and you were pathetic for thinking it meant something more.

so you just nodded and drank your coffee and pretended your heart wasn't cracking into smaller and smaller pieces with every second of his indifference.

it became a pattern after that, this torture of back and forth that made you feel like you were losing your mind. sunoo would have these moments, these brief and devastating instances where he'd touch you like you were precious, where he'd say things that made your entire world tilt sideways, where he'd look at you like you were the answer to every question he'd never asked. and then the next day he'd be distant and professional again. like the intimacy had never happened at all, like you'd dreamt the whole thing.

three days after the knife-cleaning incident, you were inventorying supplies in the back room, trying to focus on the mundane task and not think about him, when you felt eyes on you. you knew without looking that it was sunoo, could feel the weight of his attention like a physical touch, and you let him watch for a full minute before you finally turned around.

"can i help you?" you asked, trying to sound normal and failing miserably.

he pushed off the doorframe where he'd been leaning and walked toward you, slow and deliberate, each step measured like he was stalking prey. you backed up instinctively until you hit the shelves and then he was right there, close enough that you could smell his cologne and feel the heat radiating off his body. 

"you've been quiet lately."

"i'm always quiet," you managed, even though your heart was trying to punch through your ribs.

"no. you're always thinking. there's a difference." his hand came up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers lingered against your neck, thumb pressing gently against your pulse point like he was counting your heartbeats. "what's going on in that head of yours?"

you. always you. the way you touch me like this and then don't talk to me for days. the way i can't tell if i'm losing my mind or if you actually feel something for me. the way you're driving me insane with this hot and cold routine and i don't know how much more i can take.

"nothing important," you said instead, because you were a coward who couldn't handle the possibility of rejection.

his eyes searched yours for a long moment, dark and intense and unreadable in a way that made you want to scream with frustration. then he leaned in close enough that his lips brushed against your ear and his breath was hot on your skin. "liar."

and then he walked away like he hadn't just touched you in a way that made your knees weak, like he hadn't just proven once again that he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

the next two days he communicated exclusively through text messages about jobs, brief and professional, like you were just another contact in his phone instead of someone he'd had pressed against a shelf with his hand on your throat.

a week later you made the mistake of wearing a new shirt, nothing special really, just something that actually fit properly instead of the oversized hoodies you usually hid in. sunoo took one look at you when you walked into the warehouse and went completely still, his entire body tensing in a way that made your breath catch.

"what?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious under the weight of his stare, resisting the urge to cross your arms over your chest.

"nothing." but his eyes were tracking over you slowly, taking in every detail in a way that made heat crawl up your neck and spread across your cheeks. "you look nice."

"it's just a shirt," you said, aiming for dismissive and landing somewhere closer to flustered.

"mm." he crossed the room and then his hand was settling on your waist like it belonged there. just resting there with his thumb stroking against your hip bone through the fabric in a way that made it impossible to think. "suits you."

your breath caught in your throat and his hand was so warm, his touch burning through the thin material of the shirt, and he was close, so close that you could see the exact shade of his eyes and count his eyelashes and smell the mint from whatever he'd been drinking. your brain went completely offline, every thought scattering like startled birds, and all you could focus on was the point of contact where his hand met your body.

"wear it more often," he murmured, voice low and intimate, and then he let go and walked away like he hadn't just set your entire body on fire with a single touch.

that night he sent you on a solo job and didn't speak to you until you returned hours later, and by then he was back to being distant and professional like the moment in the warehouse had never happened.

it was torture, actual psychological torture, this constant back and forth that left you reeling. you didn't know which version was real anymore, the sunoo who touched you like you were precious and looked at you like you hung the stars, or the sunoo who acted like you were just another piece on his chessboard, useful but ultimately replaceable.

you were starting to think maybe they were both real, that maybe he did care about you but didn't know how to show it consistently, or maybe his feelings were just as fucked up and complicated as yours and he was struggling with them the same way you were. 

or maybe, and this was the thought that kept you up at night staring at your ceiling, maybe he just liked having power over you. liked knowing you were obsessed with him, liked watching you orbit around him desperately waiting for scraps of affection, liked the control he had over your emotions.

you didn't know which option was worse.

it was three weeks of this torture when everything fell apart.

you were supposed to be gathering intel on a hero safehouse, simple reconnaissance that should have been easy. in and out, no engagement as always (sunoo had been very clear about that part). but when you got to the location you found him already in the middle of a fight with three heroes instead of the one target you'd been expecting.

one of them was heeseung, some hotshot hero with energy manipulation who'd been climbing the ranks fast and making a name for himself taking down villains. he was good, really good, moving with a precision that spoke of serious training, and he'd brought backup that was equally competent.

sunoo was handling them fine because of course he was, nothing could hurt him after all, but they were coordinated enough to be annoying. they were keeping him busy, working together to contain him, and you could see what they were doing even from your hidden vantage point. they were stalling, buying time, waiting for more backup to arrive and overwhelm him with numbers.

you should have stayed hidden like sunoo had told you to, should have trusted that he had everything under control, that he could handle three heroes without breaking a sweat. but then you saw heeseung pull out some kind of device, something that glowed with concentrated energy that looked dangerous even from a distance, and he was pointing it at sunoo's back while sunoo was occupied with the other two heroes. 

your body moved before your brain could fully process what you were doing, before you could think about consequences or strategy or the fact that sunoo specifically told you to stay out of it.

you dropped from your hiding spot and tackled heeseung, momentum and surprise on your side, sending the device skittering across the pavement. his eyes widened in surprise before narrowing with recognition as he recovered quickly.

"the sidekick," he said, already shifting into a fighting stance. "sunoo's little pet."

"fuck you," you snarled, already moving because you'd committed now and there was no backing out, no retreat.

heeseung was faster than you'd expected, stronger too, his energy manipulation letting him create shields and weapons simultaneously in ways that made him incredibly difficult to pin down. but you were good too, sunoo had been right about that even if he never let you prove it in any way that mattered. you'd trained for this, spent hours preparing for exactly this kind of fight, and you held your own against him.

at least until one of the other heroes broke away from sunoo and joined heeseung against you. then you were outnumbered and outmatched, fighting two enhanced heroes at once, and you felt the exact moment things shifted from manageable to genuinely dangerous. you heard the crackle of energy building, felt the heat of heeseung's power gathering in the air around you, and you knew with sudden terrible certainty that you were about to take a hit you might not recover from.

your eyes found sunoo across the chaos without meaning to, some instinct making you seek him out. he was closer now, had taken down one of the other heroes and was moving in your direction, and his eyes met yours across the space between you. they were dark and unreadable and intense in a way that made your breath catch even now, even in the middle of this disaster.

then heeseung's partner appeared next to sunoo, the hero with enhanced speed that you'd forgotten about in the chaos. 

"got something you want?" he called out, gesturing at you with one hand while holding up the device you'd knocked away from heeseung with the other. "then come get it!"

sunoo's eyes moved between you and the device and you could see the calculation happening in real time, could see him weighing options and running through scenarios, could see the exact moment he made his choice.

he went for the device.

turned away from you, from the fact that you were surrounded and outmatched and about to get seriously hurt, and went for the fucking weapon instead like it mattered more than you did.

the smirk he threw over his shoulder as he moved, that tiny curve of his lips that usually meant trust me i have a plan, felt like a knife sliding between your ribs and twisting.

heeseung's energy blast caught you in the ribs before you could process what had just happened, before your brain could make sense of sunoo's choice. the pain was blinding, white-hot and all-consuming, spreading through your entire body like fire. you went down hard and your head cracked against the concrete with enough force to make your vision blur at the edges, everything going fuzzy and wrong.

you heard heeseung saying something but the words were muffled, distant, like you were underwater. you felt hands grabbing your arms and hauling you up and you tried to fight, tried to make your body respond, but everything hurt and nothing was working right.

"hey, hey—stop." that was heeseung's voice, much closer now, and he sounded concerned in a way that didn't make sense. "she's actually hurt. we need to—"

"she's a villain," his partner said from somewhere to your left. "we should call it in, get her processed—"

"she's a person," heeseung interrupted, and suddenly his hands were on your face, tilting it up gently, and his expression was genuinely worried in a way that made something crack open in your chest. a hero was worried about you. a hero was checking your injuries with careful hands and looking at you with concern while sunoo, while your partner, the person you would have died for, had just walked away like you didn't matter.

"where's your backup?" heeseung asked, and he sounded almost sorry, like he felt bad for you. "your partner. he should be here, he should be helping you—"

"he left," you said, and your voice came out broken and shattered, barely recognisable. "he left me."

heeseung's expression shifted to something like anger mixed with disbelief. "what?"

"got what he wanted." you tried to laugh but it turned into a cough that brought the taste of blood to your mouth. "the device was more important than me."

"that's—" heeseung looked genuinely furious now, more angry on your behalf than you'd seen him during the entire fight. "you jumped in to save him. i saw you. you protected him from the device and he just left you here?"

"yeah," you said, and the word felt hollow and empty, like it was coming from someone else. "he did."

the pity in heeseung's eyes was somehow worse than the physical pain, worse than the cracked ribs and the head injury and the fact that you could barely stand. this hero who was supposed to be your enemy understood that you'd just been abandoned by the person you loved, the person you would have died for, the person who apparently didn't think you were worth choosing.

"i'm sorry," heeseung said quietly, and you could tell he meant it, could hear the genuine sympathy in his voice. "that's not—you deserve better than that."

the laugh that escaped you was bitter and sharp and tasted like blood. "apparently not."

you managed to create an opening then, throwing a smoke bomb you'd been saving for emergencies and using the confusion and heeseung's momentary distraction to run. your ribs screamed with every breath and your head was pounding and your vision kept going fuzzy, but you didn't stop or look back. just ran until your legs finally gave out three blocks away in some abandoned alley.

you'd cracked at least two ribs, maybe three. there was blood in your mouth and dripping down your face from somewhere and your vision kept threatening to go dark at the edges. but you were alive. you'd saved yourself because apparently no one else was going to do it.

the worst part, the absolute worst part that made you want to curl up and sob, was that a hero had shown you more concern in five minutes than sunoo had during that entire fight. he had looked at you like you were a calculated risk he'd decided not to take.

you pulled out your phone with shaking hands that you couldn't quite control and called the one person who might help you. not sunoo though, never him again.

"yeonjun," you gasped when he picked up, barely able to get the words out. "i need a favour."

yeonjun was a former villain who'd gone straight, someone you'd worked with before you met sunoo. he didn't ask questions, didn't demand explanations, just gave you an address and told you to get there however you could manage.

you abandoned your phone in the alley after you hung up because sunoo could track it and you weren't stupid enough to think he wouldn't try to find you eventually. you took only what you could carry in your current state and disappeared into the night, every step agony but necessary.

if sunoo thought a device was more important than you, then he could have it. he could have everything—his knives and his plans and his fucking invincibility and his empty warehouse. you were done.

the safehouse yeonjun set you up in was small and dingy, but it was off the grid and that was all that mattered. he helped you patch up your ribs without asking what happened, just gave you supplies and space and resources and promised not to tell anyone where you were.

you were there for three days when the nightmares started, vivid and terrible and relentless. dreams where you watched sunoo turn away over and over, where you felt heeseung's energy blast hit you again and again, where you died alone in that alley because you weren't important enough to save.

but worse than those were the dreams where heeseung's pitying expression played on repeat, the way he'd looked at you like you were pathetic, like he felt sorry for you. a hero feeling sorry for you because even he could see that sunoo had abandoned you, that you'd been left behind.

you woke up gasping every time, ribs aching with the movement, and you'd remind yourself that you'd made the right choice. that leaving was self-preservation, that staying would have killed you eventually if not physically then emotionally, that you deserved better than someone who would leave you to die.

but it hurt. god, it hurt so much it felt like dying anyway. because despite everything, despite him choosing a weapon over you, despite the mind games and the hot-and-cold behaviour and the way he'd played with your feelings for weeks, you still loved him. you still wanted him. you still missed him with an intensity that felt like it was tearing you apart from the inside.

you were so pathetic. heeseung had been absolutely right to pity you.

but at least you'd had enough self-respect left to leave. at least you could say that. at least you'd chosen yourself when sunoo had made it clear he wouldn't.

you stayed in the safehouse and tried to figure out how to rebuild a life that didn't revolve around kim sunoo, that didn't orbit around him like he was the sun and you were just a planet caught in his gravitational pull.

it felt impossible.

sunoo stared at the empty alley where your phone lay abandoned, screen cracked and battery dying. the tracker he'd embedded in it blinked weakly before going dark and something in his chest went cold in a way he didn't recognise. you were gone. he'd come back for you, of course he'd come back for you, it had been a few minutes, the device was fake anyway, just a test from the heroes to see if he actually cared about his sidekick, and you were just. gone.

the heroes had scattered. you'd disappeared. and sunoo felt something he hadn't felt in years, not since he'd discovered his invincibility and realised nothing in the world could touch him. fear. actual bone-deep terror that made his hands shake and his breath come short because you were his and you were gone and he didn't know if someone had taken you or if you'd left on your own and he wasn't sure which option made him want to burn the world down more.

he tore through the area with increasing desperation, checking every shadow, every hiding spot, every possible place you could have gone. his knives were out and his hands wouldn't stop shaking and the fear was morphing into something darker now, something that tasted like rage and felt like madness

he found the smoke bomb residue first. then the blood, your blood, spattered on the concrete in a pattern that spoke of injury and pain. there were signs of a struggle, of you fighting your way out, of you getting hurt while he was dealing with a fake fucking device that didn't matter, because the only thing that mattered was you and he'd left you and now you were gone.

something in sunoo's chest cracked wide open and what poured out was violence.

the first building went down at dawn. sunoo walked into the heroes' main headquarters and started killing people. anyone who got in his way, anyone who might know where you were, anyone who existed in his path became a target. he was calm about it, almost detached, asking each person the same question before his knives found their throats.

"where is she? where did you take her?" 

none of them knew. they were all surprised, confused, trying to fight back against someone they couldn't hurt. it didn't matter. sunoo killed them anyway because maybe the next one would know, maybe the next one would tell him where you were, maybe the next body would bring him closer to finding you.

heeseung found him three buildings later, surrounded by corpses, covered in blood that wasn't his own because blood was never his own, nothing could make him bleed, nothing could hurt him except apparently the gaping absence of you.

"sunoo, what the fuck—" heeseung stopped in the doorway, eyes wide as he took in the destruction.

"where is she?" sunoo's voice was deadly calm. he turned to face heeseung with his knives still dripping. "my sidekick. where did you take her?"

"we didn't take anyone—" heeseung's expression shifted as he processed the scene. "holy shit, what did you do?"

"where. is. she." sunoo started walking toward him and there must have been something in his face, something terrifying, because heeseung actually backed up a step. "i won't ask again."

"i don't know! we let her go after—" heeseung stopped and his expression changed to something like understanding mixed with disgust. "after you left her."

the words hung in the air between them, sharp and accusatory. after you left her. like it was sunoo's fault. like sunoo had abandoned you instead of making a tactical choice that should have taken forty-five seconds and somehow cost him everything.

"i came back," sunoo said quietly, and his voice was empty in a way that made heeseung tense. "i came back and she was gone."

"yeah, well." heeseung's hands crackled with energy, preparing for a fight he had to know he couldn't win. "can you blame her? you chose a device over your own partner. she was hurt, sunoo. cracked ribs, possible concussion, bleeding, and you just walked away like she was nothing."

sunoo moved. he was across the room before heeseung could blink, knife pressed against the hero's throat, and his hands were shaking again but his voice was steady. "don't. don't you dare act like you know anything about what she means to me."

"i know you left her to die," heeseung spat, and there was genuine anger in his voice, genuine disgust. "i know i showed more concern for her in five minutes than you did in that entire fight. she was devastated. she actually thought—she believed you didn't care about her."

something in sunoo's chest twisted violently and the knife bit into heeseung's skin, drawing blood. "the device was a fake. a test. i knew it was a fake. i was calling your bluff, proving it was empty so you couldn't use it as leverage. i was going to come right back for her."

"but you didn't," heeseung said, and his eyes were hard. "you didn't come back in time and she ran. and honestly? she deserves better than someone who would leave her surrounded by enemies just to prove a point."

sunoo's knife sliced deeper and heeseung choked, hands coming up to try and push him away, but sunoo was invincible and furious and utterly past caring about consequences. "she's mine. she's mine and i'm going to find her and i'm going to fix this."

"you really think she's going to take you back after—" heeseung's words cut off as sunoo's blade found his throat properly this time, cutting deep, and blood poured hot over sunoo's hands.

"i'll make her understand," sunoo said to heeseung's dying face. "i'll make her see. she belongs with me. she'll forgive me because she has to, because we're meant to be together, because i'll burn this entire city down before i let her go."

he left heeseung bleeding out on the floor and continued his search, and over the next two weeks sunoo tore apart half the city looking for you. he destroyed three more hero headquarters, killed anyone who got in his way, followed every lead no matter how slim. he didn't sleep, didn't eat, could barely breathe properly because you were out there somewhere thinking he'd abandoned you. thinking he didn't want you. thinking you didn't matter when you were literally the only thing that had ever mattered in his entire life.

he finally found you through yeonjun. he had tracked down the former villain, cornered him in some shitty apartment, and the look on sunoo's face must have been terrifying because yeonjun gave up the address immediately, hands raised in surrender.

"she doesn't want to see you," yeonjun warned, but he was already backing away from whatever he saw in sunoo's expression. "she thinks you abandoned her. she's hurt and angry and she told me if you came looking to tell you to fuck off."

"i don't care," sunoo said, and his voice was hollow. empty. "i'm getting her back."

"sunoo, maybe you should give her space—"

"i've given her two weeks." sunoo was already moving toward the door, toward the address yeonjun had given him, toward you. "i'm not giving her another second."

the safehouse door didn't stand a chance against him. sunoo kicked it open hard enough that the wood splintered and there you were, on your feet immediately with wide eyes and an expression that was half shock, half something else he couldn't read. 

you were alive. real and solid and in front of him after two weeks of losing his mind, and sunoo couldn't help it, couldn't stop himself from crossing the room in three strides and pulling you into his arms.

he held you so tight it probably hurt but he couldn't make himself loosen his grip because you were here, you were okay, you were safe and alive and he'd found you. his hands shook where they fisted in your shirt and his face was buried in your hair and he couldn't breathe properly, couldn't think past the overwhelming relief that was making his chest ache.

"you're okay," he breathed against your hair, and his voice cracked on the words. "you're okay, you're here, you're safe, i found you, you're—"

you shoved him away hard enough that he actually stumbled back a step, too surprised to resist, and when he looked at your face you were crying. angry tears were streaming down your cheeks and your expression was furious and hurt and devastating.

"don't fucking touch me," you snarled, and your voice was shaking with rage. "you don't get to touch me. you don't get to just show up here after two weeks and act like everything's fine—"

"i'm sorry," sunoo said, and he could hear the desperation in his own voice. "i'm so sorry, i looked everywhere for you, i tore apart the city trying to find you—"

"sorry?" you laughed and it sounded broken, jagged around the edges. "you're sorry? you left me, sunoo. you looked right at me, you saw that i was surrounded and outmatched and about to get hurt, and you turned around and left."

"it was a test," he said desperately, taking a step toward you even as you backed away. "the device was fake, heeseung was testing to see if i cared about you more than the mission. i knew it was fake so i called the bluff. i was going to come right back for you, it was only going to take a minute—"

"but you didn't come back!" your voice cracked and more tears fell. "you didn't come back and i was hurt and bleeding and a hero showed me more concern than you did. heeseung looked at me with pity, sunoo. actual pity. because even he could see that you'd abandoned me, that you didn't give a shit about me, that i was just—just—"

your voice broke completely and sunoo felt something in his chest shatter because you believed it. you actually believed that you didn't matter to him, that you were disposable, that he could just walk away from you.

"that's not true," he said, and his voice came out rough and desperate. "that's not true, i came back, i swear i came back. a few minutes, that's all it took to dismantle the device and prove it was fake and i turned around and you were gone. i've been losing my mind for two weeks thinking someone took you, thinking you were hurt somewhere and i couldn't find you—"

"so what?" you backed further away from him and your hands were shaking. "you want credit for that? you want me to be grateful that you went on a murder spree after you abandoned me? that doesn't change what happened. that doesn't change the fact that when it mattered, when i actually needed you, you chose wrong."

"i chose strategically!" his voice rose to match yours and he was moving toward you again, unable to stop himself. "i made the smart call, the one that would get us both out safely. how was i supposed to know you'd run before i could come back for you?"

"maybe because you've spent weeks playing mind games with me!" you were yelling now and your face was flushed with anger and hurt. 

"you touch me like i matter and then ignore me for days. you tell me i'm yours and then treat me like i'm nothing. you say you'd burn the world down for me and then you literally turned your back on me when i needed you. you've given me nothing consistent except the absolute certainty that i'm not your priority, so yeah, when you walked away, i believed it. i believed that the device mattered more than me. i believed that i was expendable."

sunoo felt like he'd been stabbed, like something vital had been punctured and was bleeding out inside his chest. "you're not expendable. you're everything—"

"liar!" you grabbed something off the table, a glass, and threw it at him. he didn't dodge, didn't even try to, and it shattered against his chest and fell harmlessly to the floor. "you're a liar and i hate you and i want you to leave."

"no." sunoo shook his head and took another step forward. "no, i'm not leaving. not again. never again."

"i don't want you here!" you grabbed something else, a plate this time, and threw it harder. it hit his shoulder and shattered. "i don't want to see you, i don't want to hear your excuses, i don't want—"

you were grabbing things faster now, throwing anything you could reach, and sunoo just stood there and took it. took the mug that hit his chest, the book that caught his jaw, the vase that shattered against his ribs. he didn't dodge or defend himself, just let you express your rage in the only way you could because he deserved it. he deserved all of it and more.

your hand found a knife on the counter and you threw it with actual intent to harm, put real force behind it, and it hit him square in the shoulder and stuck there.

and he bled.

you froze immediately, eyes going wide as blood started soaking through his shirt, as the knife stayed embedded in his shoulder, as actual visible injury appeared on his body for the first time in the two years you'd known him.

"what—" your voice came out shaky and confused. "how did i—you're invincible, you can't—nothing can hurt you—"

sunoo looked down at the knife in his shoulder and the smile that spread across his face was delighted, absolutely manic, his eyes bright with something unhinged and adoring. he pulled the knife out slowly, watching blood drip from the blade, and then he was crossing the room in two strides and grabbing your waist, pulling you flush against him.

"no," he said, and his voice was soft and reverent and slightly crazed. "i'm not invincible, sweetheart. i'm immune to harm from everyone and everything in the world. except one person."

his hand came up to cup your face and his thumb stroked across your cheekbone, smearing a bit of his own blood on your skin, and his smile was soft now, tender in a way that made your breath catch.

"my true soulmate," he murmured, and his eyes were so dark, so intense as they stared into yours. "the other half of my soul. my perfect match. the only person in the entire world who can actually hurt me." his other hand tightened on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. "you. it's you. it's always been you."

your brain couldn't process this, couldn't make sense of what he was saying. "that's not—no. that's not possible. you've been fighting for years, you've never been hurt, you're completely invincible—"

"to everyone else," he interrupted, and his voice was patient like he was explaining something simple. "to everyone else i'm untouchable. but to my soulmate? to the person i'm meant to be with? i'm completely vulnerable. and i've known since the day i met you. i've known you were my mate since that jewelry store because you bumped into me while running and i felt it. this little spark of sensation that i'd never felt before. you could have hurt me then and you can hurt me now and you're the only one."

"stop," you whispered, but you didn't pull away from him, couldn't make yourself move out of his arms even though you were still so angry. "stop saying things like that."

"it's the truth." his forehead pressed against yours and his eyes slid closed like he was savouring this, savouring your proximity. "i'm obsessed with you. i've been obsessed with you for two years. i think about you constantly. the way you bite your lip when you're nervous, the way you try so hard to hide how you feel about me, the way you look at me like i hung the stars even when i know i don't deserve it. i kept you away from fights because i knew if you got seriously hurt i'd lose my mind. i pushed you away emotionally because i was terrified of what it meant that you could hurt me, that i had this weakness after years of being untouchable."

"you have a really fucked up way of showing you care about someone," you managed, but your voice was weak and your hands had somehow ended up fisted in his bloody shirt.

"i know." his eyes opened and the vulnerability in them made your chest ache. "i know i fucked up. i should have told you from the start. should have explained what you are to me instead of playing games and keeping you at a distance. but i was scared. i've never been vulnerable before. never had someone who could actually hurt me. and then you showed up and suddenly i had this thing in my chest that ached when you weren't around and i didn't know how to handle it."

"so you decided to give me whiplash instead?" you couldn't keep the bitterness out of your voice. "hot and cold, back and forth, never letting me know where i stood?"

"i was trying to protect myself," he admitted quietly. "if i kept you at a distance emotionally then maybe it wouldn't hurt so much that you could hurt me physically. if i didn't let myself care too much then maybe i'd survive it when you eventually figured out you could do better than me and left. but it didn't work. i just made you think i didn't want you when you're all i've ever wanted."

"you left me," you said again, and your voice cracked on the words because that was the core of it, the thing you couldn't get past. "you looked at me and you turned away and you left me there."

"i made a mistake." his hands were shaking where they held you and his voice was wrecked. 

"the worst mistake of my life. i thought—i was so sure i'd be right back, so certain i could handle it quickly and come back for you. i didn't think about how it would look from your perspective. didn't consider how it would feel to watch me walk away. i just saw the tactical solution and took it because that's what i always do, but i should have—" his voice broke. "i should have chosen you. fuck the strategy, fuck the heroes, fuck the optics. i should have gone to you first. always you first."

you wanted to stay angry, wanted to hold onto the hurt and use it as armour against the hope trying to bloom in your chest. "this doesn't fix everything."

"i know," he said immediately.

"i'm still furious with you."

"i know."

"you're going to have to work for this. no more games. no more pushing me away. no more making me guess how you feel."

"anything." his voice was fervent, desperate. "anything you want. i'll be so honest it's uncomfortable. i'll tell you every single thought i have about you. i'll stop protecting myself and just—i'll give you everything. i'll prove that you matter more than anything else in my life."

you opened your mouth to respond, to say something about how words were easy and actions were what counted, but he kissed you before you could get the words out. it was rough and desperate and consuming, his hands fisting in your hair and pulling you closer, angling your head exactly how he wanted it. you made a sound, half protest and half something else entirely, and he swallowed it, deepened the kiss, licked into your mouth like he was trying to devour you whole.

you bit his lip hard. hard enough to break skin and taste blood, and he moaned into your mouth like it was the best thing he'd ever felt.

"still mad at me?" he murmured against your lips when you finally broke apart to breathe, and you could feel his smile even though your eyes were still closed.

"furious," you gasped, but your hands were tangled in his shirt and pulling him closer instead of pushing him away, completely betraying your words.

"good." he walked you backward until your back hit the wall and his body pressed fully against yours. "stay mad. yell at me. hurt me. i don't care as long as you're here. as long as i can touch you. anything is better than the last two weeks thinking i'd lost you forever."

"you're insane," you managed, but it came out breathy and weak because his mouth was on your neck now, teeth scraping against your pulse point in a way that made your knees weak.

"for you, yes." his hand slid under your shirt and his fingers splayed across your ribs, right over the bruises that were still fading from heeseung's attack. "i've been going insane for two weeks. tore apart half the city. killed anyone who got in my way. couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't think about anything except finding you and getting you back and making you understand that you're mine."

your breath caught as his fingers traced over the bruises with devastating gentleness, like he was memorising the exact shape of them. "he hurt you," sunoo said, and his voice had gone cold and dangerous. "heeseung hurt you."

"you killed him already, remember?"

"not slowly enough." his fingers pressed just slightly harder against the bruised ribs and you hissed at the spike of pain. "i should have made it last days. should have made him suffer for every mark he left on your skin. should have made him understand what it means to hurt something that belongs to me."

"sunoo—" you didn't know if you were protesting or encouraging him, didn't know what you wanted except more.

"i'm going to make this up to you," he promised, and when he pulled back to look at you his eyes were dark with intent, pupils blown wide. "i'm going to make you feel so good you forget about the last two weeks. i'm going to touch you until the only thing you can think about is me. i'm going to prove that you're mine and i'm yours and nothing else matters."

"that's not how apologies work," you tried to say, but it came out shaky because his hand was sliding higher under your shirt and his thumb was brushing against the underside of your breast and you couldn't think.

"then tell me to stop." he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes properly, and despite the heat in his gaze there was genuine question there too. "tell me you don't want this and i'll stop. i'll leave. i'll give you space. i'll do whatever you need, even if it kills me."

you looked at him and saw the desperation in his expression, the way his hands trembled slightly where they touched you, the blood still soaking through his shirt from where you'd stabbed him. you thought about the last two weeks of nightmares and pain and missing him so much it physically hurt. thought about how even after everything, even after he'd left you and broken your heart, you still loved him. still wanted him. still felt like a piece of you was missing when he wasn't around.

"i don't want you to stop," you whispered, and your voice came out broken and honest. "i hate you and i want you and i'm so tired of fighting it."

something in his expression shifted, softened and sharpened at the same time, and then he was kissing you again. properly this time, slow and deep and thorough, like he had all the time in the world to learn the taste of you. you kissed back with everything you had, two years of want and frustration and love pouring out.

your hands tugged at his blood-stained shirt until he had to break the kiss to pull it off, and then you could see the wound on his shoulder properly. it was still bleeding sluggishly, the skin around it red and irritated, and you pressed your fingers against it without thinking.

he made a sound low in his throat and his eyes fluttered closed. "does it hurt?" you asked, fascinated despite yourself.

"yes," he breathed, and when his eyes opened again they were glazed with something that looked almost like pleasure. "do it again."

so you pressed harder and watched his face as he reacted. watched his breath catch and his pupils dilate and his hands tighten on your waist hard enough to bruise. there was something intoxicating about it, something that made heat pool low in your stomach. having this kind of power over someone who was otherwise completely invincible. being the only person who could hurt him, the only one who mattered enough to break through his immunity.

"you want to hurt me?" he asked, and his voice dropped to something dangerous and inviting, something that made heat pool low in your stomach. "go ahead, sweetheart. take one of my knives and make me bleed. i know you want to."

your breath caught because he was right. you did want to. wanted to see him bleed for you, wanted proof that you had this power over him, that you could affect him the way he'd been affecting you for two years. wanted to make him feel even a fraction of the pain you'd been carrying around.

"you're still angry," he continued, reading you like he always did, like you were his favourite book and he'd memorised every page. "still hurt. so take it out on me. i can handle it. i want you to."

he pulled a knife from his pocket, one of his favourites, the one with the black handle that he always kept razor sharp, and pressed it into your palm. his fingers closed around yours, warm and steady, holding your hand around the weapon. "go on."

you looked at the blade, then at him, at the absolute certainty in his expression. the trust. he was giving you the power to hurt him, offering himself up to the only person in the world who could actually damage him, and telling you to use it. encouraging it even.

your hand was shaking as you brought the knife up to his chest, pressing the tip against his skin just above his heart hard enough to dimple the flesh. "you really want this?"

"i want everything with you." his hand covered yours on the handle, applying gentle pressure until the blade bit into his skin and blood welled up around it, bright red against pale skin. "even the pain. especially the pain, because it means you're touching me. means you're here and real and mine."

you dragged the knife across his chest, not deep but enough to hurt, enough to part skin and draw a thin line of blood, and watched his eyes flutter closed like he was savouring it. watched his lips part on a sharp intake of breath that might have been pleasure. 

"fuck," he breathed, and when his eyes opened again they were glazed with something that looked almost euphoric. "again."

something dark and possessive unfurled in your chest at his reaction, something that liked having this power over him. you made another cut, parallel to the first, and he groaned low in his throat, a sound that went straight between your legs. his hands tightened on your waist hard enough to bruise and you were mesmerised by the blood running down his chest in thin rivulets, by the proof that you could do this to him.

"you like this," you said, and it wasn't quite a question because you could see it in his face, in the way his breathing had gone ragged.

"i love it," he admitted without shame, without hesitation. "love that you're the one doing it. love that you have this power over me. love that i can bleed for you when i can't bleed for anyone else."

you pressed the knife harder against his chest, dragging it down toward his ribs in a longer line this time, watching blood well up in the blade's wake like you were painting him. his stomach muscles tensed under your touch and his breathing was getting heavier, more erratic, more desperate.

"fuck," he hissed when you pressed the tip of the blade just above his hip bone, twisting it slightly to make it hurt more. his hand shot out to grab your wrist, not to stop you, just to steady himself, fingers digging in hard enough that you'd have marks later. "you have no idea what you're doing to me."

"i think i have some idea." you could see it in the way his pupils were blown wide, black almost completely swallowing the brown. could see it in the way he was already getting hard, the bulge in his jeans obvious and growing. "you're getting off on this. on me hurting you."

"of course i am." his free hand fisted in your hair, pulling you closer until your faces were inches apart and you could feel his breath on your lips. "you're the only person in the world who can make me feel pain. do you understand how fucking intoxicating that is?"

you dragged the knife across his collarbone, following the line of bone, and he groaned again. the sound was rough and desperate and so clearly pleasure that it made your own breathing pick up. blood was everywhere now, painting his chest in abstract patterns, dripping down his stomach to soak into the waistband of his jeans. he looked absolutely ruined and it was all because of you.

"that's enough playing around," he said suddenly, and his hand wrapped around your throat, not squeezing but possessive. his other hand plucked the knife from your grip easily. "my turn now."

he tossed the knife aside and before you could protest, before you could even process the loss of the weapon, he was on you. his mouth crashed against yours and the kiss was immediately desperate and consuming, his tongue sliding against yours while his hand tightened slightly on your throat. you could taste something metallic and realised with a start that it was his blood from where you'd apparently cut his lip at some point.

"been so patient with you," he muttered against your lips, walking you backward until your back hit the wall hard enough to knock the breath from your lungs. "letting you have your little tantrum. letting you cut me up like i'm your personal canvas. but i think that's enough attitude for one night, don't you?"

"i'm still mad at you," you said, even as your hands fisted in his bloody shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing away like you should.

"oh, i know." his smile was sharp and mean as he pulled back just enough to look at you properly. "and i'm going to fuck that right out of you."

"you think it's going to be that easy?" you challenged, lifting your chin defiantly even though your heart was racing and you could feel how wet you already were.

"easy? no." his hand left your throat to work at your top, yanking it over your head roughly enough that you heard fabric tear. "but it'll be fun watching you try to stay bratty when you're falling apart on my cock."

"big talk from someone who—" your words cut off in a gasp as he shoved his hand down your pants without warning, fingers immediately finding how wet you were.

"from someone who what?" he asked, voice dripping with condescension as his fingers slid through your folds, spreading the evidence of your arousal. "go on, finish that sentence. oh wait, you can't, can you? not when you're this fucking wet for me already."

"fuck you," you managed, but it came out breathless and weak.

"you will be soon." he pulled his hand out and brought his fingers to his mouth, maintaining eye contact as he sucked them clean with obvious enjoyment. "mm. tastes like you're not as mad as you're pretending to be."

"i am mad—"

"then why are you dripping down your thighs, sweetheart?" he popped the button on your jeans and shoved them down along with your underwear in one rough movement. "why are you trembling? why can't you stop looking at me like you want me to ruin you?"

you opened your mouth to snap back with something cutting but he chose that exact moment to push two fingers inside you and the words dissolved into a moan that echoed embarrassingly in the small space. "

there we go," he said, and he sounded so pleased with himself it should have been annoying. "that's much better than all that talking back."

his fingers worked you with devastating efficiency, like he'd studied your body and knew exactly what you needed. they curled to hit that spot inside you that made your knees weak while his thumb circled your clit with perfect pressure. you were already embarrassingly close, wound tight from weeks of missing him and the adrenaline of the knifeplay and having him this close after thinking you'd never see him again.

"look at you," he murmured, his free hand coming up to grip your jaw firmly, forcing you to meet his eyes. "getting so close already. want to come on my fingers, baby?"

"yes," you gasped, past the point of playing hard to get or pretending you didn't want this desperately.

"ask me nicely."

"what?"

his fingers slowed to an agonising pace that had you wanting to cry from frustration. "i said ask me nicely. where are your manners?"

"please," you gritted out, hating how desperate you sounded but needing the release too badly to care about pride.

"please what?"

"please let me come."

"hmm." his fingers stopped moving entirely and you actually whimpered, a pathetic needy sound. "i don't know if you deserve it yet. you've been pretty bratty. throwing things at me, stabbing me, running away for two weeks and making me think you were dead..."

"sunoo, please—"

"tell me you're sorry," he demanded, and his eyes were dark and intense and utterly serious. "tell me you're sorry for leaving and i'll let you come."

your pride warred with need and need won decisively. "i'm sorry," you gasped out. "i'm sorry for leaving, please, i need—"

"good girl." his fingers resumed their movement immediately, faster now, harder, and you were right back on that edge within seconds. "see how easy things are when you behave?"

you came with a cry that was probably too loud, clenching around his fingers rhythmically, and he worked you through it with a satisfied smile on his face. but before you could catch your breath, before you could even start to come down, he was pulling his fingers out and spinning you around, pressing your front against the wall.

"now here's what's going to happen," he said against your ear, his body a solid line of heat against your back. "i'm going to fuck you against this wall until you forget why you were mad at me. and you're going to take it and thank me for it. understand?"

"you're so full of yourself—" you started, but cut off with a gasp as you felt him line himself up, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance.

"and you're about to be full of me," he said, and thrust in with one brutal movement that punched the air from your lungs.

you cried out at the stretch, at the way he filled you so completely you could barely breathe. he was big, bigger than you'd expected, and the angle had him hitting so deep it bordered on too much, on the edge of pain.

"fuck, you're tight," he groaned against your neck, and his voice was wrecked in a way that sent another wave of heat through you. "squeezing my cock like you don't want to let me go. thought you were mad at me?"

"i am," you managed, but it came out weak and breathless and completely unconvincing.

"sure you are." he pulled almost all the way out and slammed back in, setting a punishing pace that had you seeing stars. "that's why you're taking my cock so well. that's why you're already getting wet again. because you're so mad at me."

"shut up," you gasped, but you were already pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts, chasing the pleasure.

"make me." his hand came up to wrap around your throat from behind, not squeezing but possessive, claiming, owning. "oh wait, you can't. you're too busy moaning for me."

he was right and you hated it. every thrust hit perfectly, the angle letting him go so deep you could feel him everywhere, feel him splitting you open. your legs were shaking, barely holding you up, and if it wasn't for his grip on your hip and throat you would have collapsed.

"this is what you needed, isn't it?" he panted against your ear, and each word was punctuated by a thrust. "needed me to fuck some sense into you. needed to be reminded who you belong to."

"i don't belong to anyone," you tried to argue, but it came out more like a moan than actual words.

"liar." his hand slid from your hip to between your legs, fingers finding your clit and circling it with maddening pressure. "you're mine. have been since that jewelry store. you just needed a reminder."

"sunoo," you gasped, feeling yourself getting close again impossibly fast, your body responding to him like it was made for this.

"that's right. say my name. let everyone know who's fucking you this good." his pace got harder, more erratic, and his fingers worked your clit in tight circles. "come on my cock, sweetheart. show me who you belong to."

your second orgasm hit even harder than the first, your whole body seizing up as pleasure crashed over you in waves. you heard yourself crying out his name, felt yourself clenching around him rhythmically, and it was so intense you actually saw stars, your vision whiting out at the edges.

"fuck, that's it," sunoo groaned, and his rhythm was faltering now, getting sloppy. "feel so good when you come. so perfect. gonna fill you up. gonna make sure you remember this."

he thrust into you one final time, grinding deep, and you felt him pulse inside you, filling you with heat. for a long moment neither of you moved, both gasping for air, bodies slick with sweat and blood and completely wrung out.

then he was pulling out carefully, gently, and turning you around. he caught you when your legs threatened to give out, his arms coming around you to hold you steady. his expression had shifted, the mean dominant edge smoothed away into something softer, more vulnerable.

"can you walk?" he asked, and there was genuine concern in his voice now.

"maybe," you managed, still trying to catch your breath and make your brain work again.

"good enough." he scooped you up easily like you weighed nothing, carrying you toward the bed. "we're not done yet."

"sunoo, i can't—" you started, genuinely not sure your body could handle more.

"yes you can," he said simply, and there was that commanding tone again that made your stomach flip. 

"you're insane," you said, but you didn't push him away when he laid you down on the mattress and settled between your legs.

"we've established that." he looked up at you through his lashes, and even covered in blood and sweat he was beautiful. "now be a good girl and let me taste you."

before you could respond, his mouth was on you and his tongue was licking through your folds, tasting the mixture of both of you. you nearly came off the bed from the sensitivity, it was almost too much.

"too much," you gasped, hands flying to his hair, trying to push him away.

he just grabbed your wrists and pinned them to your sides, not even pausing in his ministrations. "i don't remember asking," he said against you, the vibration of his words making you whimper. 

"sunoo—"

"what did i say about talking back?" he looked up at you and his eyes were dark and stern. "every time you argue, i'm adding another orgasm. want to keep going?"

you shut your mouth immediately, and he smiled. "that's what i thought. now stay still."

he went back to work with renewed focus, his tongue circling your clit while keeping your wrists pinned to the bed. you were so sensitive that every touch felt electric, overwhelming, bordering on painful but in a way that still felt good.

"that's better," he murmured between licks, his breath hot against your oversensitized flesh. "no more attitude. just taking what i give you like a good girl."

despite the oversensitivity, despite thinking it was impossible, you felt it building again. he was making it happen with that devastating tongue, working you with the kind of precision that came from paying attention, from caring.

"sunoo, i'm—" you gasped, your hips trying to move but he held you down effortlessly.

"i know." his tongue moved faster and you could feel him smiling against you. "give it to me. one more, baby. you can do it."

when you came this time it was almost painful, the pleasure so intense it felt like electricity shooting through your entire nervous system. you were vaguely aware of crying, of making sounds that didn't sound human, but you couldn't stop it, couldn't control your body's response.

sunoo worked you through it gently this time, his tongue softening as you came down, pressing soft kisses to your inner thighs while you shook and gasped and tried to remember how to breathe. when he finally pulled back, you were completely wrecked, trembling and boneless and utterly spent.

"look at you," he said softly, crawling up your body to gather you into his arms. "so pretty when you let go."

you couldn't even form words, just buried your face in his chest and breathed in the scent of him. blood and sweat and something uniquely sunoo that made your chest ache with how much you'd missed it.

"come on," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "let's get you cleaned up."

he carried you to the bathroom and this time you didn't protest, too exhausted and wrung out to do anything but let him take care of you. he started the shower and helped you under the spray, his hands impossibly gentle now as he washed you with careful attention.

"did i hurt you?" he asked quietly, his fingers tracing over the marks he'd left on your body. the bruises blooming on your hips and wrists, the fingerprints on your throat. "too rough?"

"no," you said honestly, leaning into his touch. "just... intense."

"good intense or bad intense?"

"good," you admitted, feeling heat rise to your cheeks despite everything you'd just done. "really good."

he smiled softly at that, genuine and so beautiful it made your chest tight. "good. i never want to actually hurt you. even when i'm being mean."

"you were pretty mean," you said, but there was no heat in it, just fond observation.

"you liked it," he countered, and when you didn't argue, his smile widened into something more smug. "knew you would. knew underneath all that attitude you just needed someone to put you in your place."

"don't get cocky."

"too late." but then his expression softened again as he washed your hair with careful fingers, working through the tangles with patience. "but i'll try to be humble. for you."

"you're bleeding," you pointed out, looking at the cuts on his chest that were still seeping blood sluggishly into the water running down the drain.

"i know." he sounded almost pleased about it, like the wounds were a gift. "they'll scar. i'll have marks from you forever. i like that idea."

when you were both clean, when the water had finally run clear and all the blood was washed away, he dried you off with a towel and found one of your shirts. he helped you into it despite your weak protest that you could dress yourself, then carried you back to bed and settled you against his chest with your head tucked under his chin.

"i love you," he said quietly into the darkness, his hand stroking through your damp hair in soothing motions. "i know i'm fucked up about showing it. i know i hurt you. but i love you more than anything. you're my everything."

"i love you too," you whispered. "even when you're an asshole."

"especially when i'm an asshole," he corrected with a soft laugh. "that's when you get the most worked up."

"shut up."

"see? bratty even now." but his tone was fond, affectionate, full of something warm. "get some sleep, sweetheart. i'll be here when you wake up."

"promise?"

"i promise," he said seriously, and you could hear the weight of it in his voice. "i'm never leaving you again. never making you doubt how important you are to me. you're stuck with me now. for better or worse."

"mostly worse," you mumbled, already drifting off, exhaustion pulling you under.

you fell asleep wrapped in his arms, feeling safer and more content than you had in weeks, and for the first time since everything fell apart you felt like you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

note 2: the whole soulmate thing was inspired by this!

if you liked this please comment or reblog to give me your feedback! <3

The night was young, your date with Sunoo was going to plan so far — you got ready, wore the outfit Sunoo helped you picked out, prior.

It was all perfect, then he showed up in those fucking glasses.

The glasses he knew you adored. A small sly smirk gracing his lips as you clearly try to comprehend the glasses framing his fox like eyes.

The whole night you were quiet — not because you were mad at him, not at all. You couldn't meet his eyes, every time you did your mind flooded with thoughts you were scared the people around you could hear.

Sunoo knew, of course he did — he knew you like the back of his hand, he anticipated this reaction that's why he wore them in the first place.

The dinner was nice, food was good, so was the in-house entertainment — not that you were focusing on that. You were walking hand in hand out of the restaurant, Sunoo talking about his day, how practice was, what the guys were up to. When you got to the car he opened the passenger door for you, slipping around to the drivers seat.

As he drives back to your shared apartment you cant focus on the gossip hes sharing — roughly understanding what hes going on about. You're not focused on it at all, or the way his hand settles a bit higher on your thigh then it usually does — No, your focused on his profile, his gaze focused on the road, eyebrows quirked as he dramatically recalls whatever pisses him off lately, the way his nose slopes so perfectly, the way his lips are slightly pink from your kisses earlier — your makeup transferring on his lips. The way the frames are shifted on the bridge of his nose, unbothered to fix them.

The clear frames perfectly framing his eyes — its all overtaking you, unable to focus on anything but those stupid glasses and how they accentuate his already pretty features.

How they reflect the light making him even prettier somehow, how they fogged up slightly from the changing temperatures — and now all you can imagine is them fogging up as he fucks into you.

"Are you even listening, angel?" He gasps in feign annoyance, smiling slightly glancing at you, squeezing your thigh to regain your attention.

"Not really." You don't even deny it, your brain working overtime trying to focus on anything.

"I'm more than a pretty face for you to look at." He teases, pouting slightly turning into another street — the motion sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose as you take a shakey breath.

"Pull over." You say with no debate, your need overtaking every ounce of logic.

"Excuse me?" He giggles slightly glancing at you — seeing your serious expression. The way your eyes are dark with want, the way you have unintentionally been squeezing your thighs together the whole drive.

"You know what you're doing, Sun." you say flatly, not even bothering to act shy.

Sunoo suppresses a sly grin and he taps against your thigh, looking around the area. The energy in the car shifting from a one-sided conversation to a charged one. The car suddenly feeling warm.

Sunoo pulls into a spot on the side of a dead road, turning the engine off.

"Couldn't wait till we even got home? Unbelievable —" His teasing is interrupted by you unbuckling your seatbelt and climbing over the center console, barely even making it into his lap as you pull him into a heated kiss.

Your lips attacking each others, gasping into the kiss, your hands finding any part of him to hold onto — settling in his hair, his rest on your waist. Teeth clashing as you fight for dominance — Sunoo groaning into the kiss his hands slipping under your shirt thumbing at your stomach making you moan into the kiss.

The kiss breaks and you both are panting, you swallow the lump in your throat as you look at him, his glasses, on the tip of his nose — foggy from the heated make out.

"Backseat, now" He breathes out, catching his own breath.

You don't even nod — just shifting as you climb over the console, falling into the backseat with a thud, your head resting on the seat, thighs pressed together.

Sunoo joins shortly after climbing over a bit more gracefully, settling in between your thighs hovering over you, his lips press on yours, his fingers lacing through yours next to your head, caging you in.

The kiss breaks when you push up, your hand on his chest pushing him back on the seat, affectively swapping positions. Your sitting on his lap hands splayed on his chest.

He looks ethereal, hair a mess, lips swollen, glasses barely on and foggy.

"Sit on my face" he says bluntly, you swallow the lump in your throat, your breathing uneven. as you whimper at his bold words.

"Cant just say that, Sun." You stammer, your previous confidence gone.

"Please?" He whispers, looking up at you — begging.

You let out a ragged breath as you slide your panties off, keeping your skirt on. Trying to squeeze your legs together, stopped by Sunoo as his hands pulls you forward onto his face.

Still hovering, one hand rests on the back seat the other on the headrest of the front seat, looking down at the boy beneath you you let out a whimper the sight making you wet.

Sunoos hands trace your thighs, almost salivating at your bare, dripping pussy above him. He moves to take off his glasses when you immediately stop him, getting flustered doing so.

He holds back a grin, keeping them on as his arms wrap around your thighs, pulling you onto his face. His tongue immediately diving into you, licking up all the slick from your folds, his tongue prodding your hole, sliding up sucking on your clit as you shift on him.

You let out a series of cries and moans, hands holding onto his hair and the headrest, trying to ground yourself, ending in you grinding down on his face.

Sunoos actions don't stop, eating you out like he was starved, moaning into your pussy, arms tight around your thighs keeping you on his face.

Every so often his nose nudges your swollen clit as he licks through your folds, licking up all the slick your making. His tongue prods your hole making you whimper and grind down onto his face. His movements fast but precise, trying to bring you over the edge.

The tip of his tongue teasing you, poking into your weeping hole then licking through your folds and drawing soft moans from you.

At this point the car is fogged up, unable to see through the windows, people passing by most definitely able to guess correctly whats happening in the car.

After he gets impatient, wanting to taste all of you his tongue breaches your tight hole. earning a relieved whimper from you your hips humping against his tongue.

You're more riding his face, him letting you seek your own pleasure using him to to do, every so often, his fogged glasses bump against your clit making you let out a pathetic sound. Its all too much, your orgasm comes crashing over you, riding through your high.

When your orgasm slows, he doesn't — instantly licking up all your cum, moaning against your heating — eating you like its lifeline. Sucking up all of your wetness sending you into overdrive. He only stops when you physically have to push him off your pussy.

When you pull back off his face its a sight. the bottom of his face slicked up, a proud grin on his lips, his eyes peaking out from the glasses hanging low on his noses.

Catching his breath, he sits up, pulling you into his lap kissing you.

You moan into the kiss, tasting your cum on his tongue sending you insane. When you pull back you raise your hips, tugging down his pants, palming him brought his boxers earning a whine from his as he tilts his head back on the headrest.

"You're insane — all this over glasses" he says breathlessly his thumbs rubbing circles on your waist.

"Not just the glasses, its you in the glasses" you whisper softly looking into his eyes.

He makes an unrecognizable sound as he breathes heavily, his hands fumbling his boxers as he pulls himself out, pumping himself before lining himself up with your entrance.

Your hands rest on his shoulders as you sink down onto him, the car filling with the sounds of your combined moans

"I'm not gonna last." He whimpers leaning his head back, eyes scrunching, already dangerously close from you riding his face.

You mumble something incoherent, your walls pulsating against him cock, whimpering trying to adjust to the position, you look at him and instantly moan closing your eyes, its too much — hes too much.

You rise from him, only the tip still in as you sink down, the pace slow and steady but perfect, Sunoo's hands guiding you, helping you ride him.

His lips attach to yours quickly, moaning into his mouth as you clench around him, grinding your hips against his desperate for release.

He notices your legs shaking, quickly taking over — his hands holding onto your hips, fucking you down onto him sharply, he fills you perfectly — feeling him everywhere, his tip kissing your cervix with every deep thrust.

Sunoo can feel his orgasm coming embarrassingly soon — he cant have that. Despite his hand snaking down, his thumb rubbing fast finger 8s on your clit making you scream in pleasure.

The duel stimulation pushes your orgasm on you like a train, no warning, your legs shake as you pretty much let him take over fully, riding out your orgasm as he fucks you down onto his cock.

Sunoos orgasm is triggered by yours, your walls clenching, sucking him in, milking him dry — a whimper leaves his lips as his movements halt — his orgasm washing over him.

His movements on your clit stop when you wince slight, pressing a kiss on your neck as an apology, then on your lips as another one.

Staying inside you as his cock softens, both of your orgasms fading out as you droop your head onto his shoulder, your body spent.

Sunoos arms wrap around your waist, his cheek leaning against your hair pressing soft kisses to the side of your head rubbing soft shapes on your exposed skin.

His free hand finally removes his glasses, setting the on the seat beside you both, his fingers threading through your hair admiring your post sex haze.

Your fuzzy, the intense heat from the sex fading, the air from outside coming in cooling your hot skin. One of your fingers draw shapes in the fog in the window — earning a laugh from Sunoo who just kisses your hair.

"So i should wear the glasses more, hm?"

you huff, trying to amp yourself up for a tough mental fight coming ahead. there's no saying on how much he'll talk, so you might end up in there for a long time. nothing rousing in this line of work, you suppose.

checking all your files are present, everything in place, you walk towards the door and get interrupted right before that knob tweaks open. "detective, you know he might be just the one we're looking for." you glance back at your colleague. "be careful, y/n. he's not gentle as you think he is."

_

"kim sunoo. do you know why you're here today?"

the blank face finally turns to you, perhaps getting some interest in you and your words. those eyes, they bore into you relentlessly and glisten with intrigue.

and he slumps back into the chair.

seriously, is he going to play the silent game?

you had to get something out of this beauty today, no matter what it took. so you continued, "sunoo-ssi. this isn't a laughing matter. you've been accused as a suspect for multiple connected murders. you could end up behind bars for decades."

he immediately shoots his arrow: "the only place i'll like to end up is in someone's bed, preferably yours."

"e-excuse me?" saving yourself from choking from his bold words, you would've never expected this pretty boy's first words to be like this.

what are you thinking, he isn't pretty! he's a suspect for god's sake, get your head in the game...

well, his outfit doesn't help his case. he's in an all black ensemble: a tight fitting turtle neck, a black skirt and fish nets. his earlobes, neck, fingers all adorned with various silver accessories. who dresses like this anymore? it's 2pm for heaven's sake, you think it's more likely to see someone like this at 2am.

sunoo hums, inching closer and closer to you. even if he looks slightly cute with his chubby cheeks and pale skin, you can't shake off the constant uneasiness that he gives you. this man is dangerous - you conclude, why does one singular person give you such the creeps that gnaws at you consistently?

"you can stop trying to read me sugar, it won't work."

"i wasn't—"

"shhh. honey, sometimes beautiful people look the prettiest when they don't open their mouth, hm?"

immediately, your body betrays itself as you feel your cheeks heating up to a crimson red. you hesitate at the finger pressed on your lips right now, mouth sealed shut. is it even normal to feel this flustered when you get complimented by a criminal?

he doesn't even care. he doesn't care that he's sitting in an investigation room, with possibly heaps of crimes stacked up against him. that he may very well end up in jail, with a criminal record, guilty of all the most heinous crimes. he doesn't care — and that annoys you to no end.

all kim sunoo cares about is getting into your pants?

this sly, seductive son of a bitc—

"tell me, y/n. what makes you think i came here to confess a crime?"

...he knows your name.

creepy, you admit. most people who sit in that chair usually want nothing to deal with you, and yet sunoo himself has defied all expectations in the first 10 minutes of meeting him.

"y-you... you think you're innocent? don't lie, sunoo-ssi. it's not a good track record."

"oh but i have a clear one. you have nothing on me, don't you? don't fool me with those thick files. i know the laws inside out, y/n." he spits.

"you've clearly been looking everywhere for your suspect, and suddenly one shows up at your doorstep? come on sweetheart, i know you're smarter than this. i've only appeared because i wanted to." he scoffs, gazing into the one way glass behind you. "it's just amusing watching your team run around in circles before you closed this case cold."

this man's domineering aura is glowing brighter and brighter every second, even though you thought he was already intimidating when you first walked in. it feels like a prey getting trapped in their own trap. you've made one for kim sunoo, so why does it feel like you're the one losing and drowning?

you drop speechless on your seat, unable to find an answer for his little monologue.

Sunoo knows his life was filled with unimaginable sectors of problems that seemed to make their way out of the woodworks. Whether it was coming quickly or hurdling towards him slowly, Sunoo knows the impact he had to brace for: its suddenness, and without warning.

Any other time stuff like this occurs, It was a ripping of a band-aid and a rush to the bathroom in tears, only on the good days could he hide it behind his puffy cheeks and darling smile. This time, of course, it was the former, but sitting in the same space with other idols didn't leave much room for running and crying.

So Sunoo didn't think of it as a bad thing, he didn't think of it as a reason to make the others worry or to bring about the constant chaos he feels like he always carries. So he plays it out in his mind like seeing a beautiful night sky but only through a picture on your phone and wishing so badly you were there, but it was still nice to see it; he still appreciates that he got the opportunity to bask in its beauty.

Sunghoon was unreachable for the longest time. Sure, he was fun and charismatic and a big ball of clumsy, but behind closed doors, out of the way of cameras, he seemed distant, a bit too quiet, and like he'd rather be anywhere than where he was at that moment. But Sunoo pulled him out of his funk. And it wasn't easy. Sunoo came up with the idea that Sunghoon didn't like to smile unless he had to, He also punctured on the thought that he was too serious for the demeanor and the look that their group was going for.

So Sunoo stepped in and did the best he could. And it worked. Months went by, and soon it was a year later. That same Sunghoon that cooped up in his room was now out and about, taking walks and loved to talk someone's ear off. Sunoo taught him to be patient, to live in the moment, to not take things for granted; and Sunghoon took that to heart.

Sunoo only ever saw Sunghoon as his project to fix, to make him operational enough to become an actual human being and not just some smooth-talking robot. He never thought he would achieve his goal of getting that stoic man to open up and see life as he did, but it worked, it really did.

And now Sunghoon was the best Sunghoon that could've ever lived. He washed away his thought of how life had to be in front of the camera and how he thought he had to act out in public and in front of fans. And with just that short amount of change, Sunghoon saw the way life was like and he loved it and never wanted to go back.

And by then Sunoo thought his mission was complete, there was no need for further night walks and trauma bonding, but by the time he tried to stop, he realized it was the thing he looked forward to the most. And then more months went by and so did his growing admiration for Sunghoon. He didn't ponder much on it cause he didn't believe he had to. He stayed fixed on the notion that Sunghoon was the best big brother that he never had.

And then things appeared to change drastically. The night walks that were only for a few minutes turned to hours. Their conversations seemed to reach a deeper level than Sunoo was willing to admit. He caught himself smiling when the thoughts of Sunghoon drifted through his mind. He realized how badly he wanted to constantly be where Sunghoon was, like a puppy to its owner. And you could've called him crazy, but he felt that Sunghoon wanted to be just as close as he did. Even after their hours spent alone, Sunghoon would suggest they spend the night together in their rooms, waking up the next morning to find the both of them tangled into one another.

And then with no warning, like Sunoo was used to receiving, Sunghoon admitted something to him that came out in a whisper but Sunoo knew he heard correctly. "I like you," and all he could do was blink profusely. And while he was scared to admit it too, he did. Since then, their time together grew increasingly longer than it had already been, Sunoo found it harder not to blush when Sunghoon spoke in interviews or lives, and each morning they found themselves tangled into one another again and again.

Although it seemed picture-perfect, it couldn't be much more than that anywhere they went. Then Sunghoon got the opportunity to be a host, and it was like Sunoo's small flame was being to lose fuel, even growing mad at himself when allegations of Sunghoon and his MC partner were rumored to be dating and he couldn't stop himself from feeling jealous. Even when he knew it was just a rumor, it still struck a chord where it hurt the most.

And that's where his problem lies now.

Bright rays of sunlight escape through the slits that the grand curtains didn't cover. It seems to cascade over Sunghoon like it was written in the stars or something, illuminating the brown highlights in his blonde dyed hair that's swept away from his dark eyes. And he stood on the stage, presenting the different awards with his rumored girlfriend by his side, The light hitting her as well.

Sunoo didn't want to admit it, but she was beautiful, and everything he wasn't. For one, she was a girl, not something that Sunoo ever pondered to be, but he did wish it in his moments with Sunghoon that he'd wake up and magically be one so that the world wouldn't see their love as cruel. She was also tall and slim, her eyes were the perfect almond, her smile was addicting, and her long hair added something to her that Sunoo couldn't put his tongue on, but he knew whatever it was, it caused the adoration for her to reach its pique, and he realized he was correct with how the audience, full of other idols, react when she giggles or makes a mistake. It was like she hypnotized them to laugh with her, to fall for her silly errors and think of it as adorable.

Sunoo fights the urge to gag when the audience cooes at their routine performance, full of touches and hugs and being close in proximity. And it hurt. He watched the person he realized was more than an admiration dance in his perfect outfit with the perfect hair singing with his perfect voice and his perfect smile. The same perfect that Sunoo took credit for making happen, the one thing nobody could take away from him. And yet it didn't matter, cause watching the perfect couple dancing away on the stage took away any contentment that Sunoo felt he had. The only thing he took as a win that day was when it was all over.

He didn't think he was pouting or being distant when they all got back to the dorm. The others hung out in the living room and celebrated, Sunoo found himself fighting the urge to jump in his bed and use his pillow as a tissue and instead felt that sitting at the table as for away as possible would just have to do.

But Ni-Ki is the first one to call him on his bullshit. "We won Sunoo, why are you being mopey?" And the others follow along too, wondering what was with his mood that was usually full of bubbles and laughter. He washes off any sadness that brims to the surface and facades his emotions for the rest of the night.

What good would it do to continue being sad over something so frivolous, Sunoo thought. Sunghoon liked him. That's what he kept repeating in his head. No use being sad over what wasn't or what couldn't be, Sunoo was just happy to continue on his secret rendezvous, he wanted to care less about what others would think.

But it keeps him up all night. What if Sunghoon had said that in the heat of the moment? What if eventually, he'd take back his words? He couldn't help getting sad when he realizes this is one of the very many first nights without Sunghoon. He can't remember his bed being so spacious, since he always complained to Sunghoon that it was too small. The pillow that he left for him was still indented as if waiting for his head to touch it again.

The buzz of his phone shakes him out of his trance only to see the caller ID.

Sunghoon.

He didn't want to answer, he swore in his head he didn't. But he ponders on what Sunghoon could possibly want to talk about at this time of night. Probably nothing different from what they usually talked about at night, but it still made him curious.

So he answers.

Sunoo didn't even get the chance to say hello as Sunghoon speaks first. "You're not sleeping are you?"

"No, I'm not."

"Okay, meet me at our spot." And hung up.

Even if Sunoo is too lazy to get out of bed or too tired to put on clothes, he still does. And he hates that he -- without thinking -- sprays on the perfume that Sunghoon loved, but he has no time to think on it.

With a quick walk down the street, Sunoo arrives at his destination. A quaint little cafe they found hidden behind a larger building. They went every Friday where lattes were fifty percent off, but they usually just shared one, too scared that drinking one alone would cause them to never go to sleep.

When he walks in, his eyes advert to the spot they always sat at, and there he was, as beautiful as ever. Even in only a large jacket and sweatpants, it still caused Sunoo's heart to melt into a gooey mess.

This time, Sunghoon didn't bother getting just one for the both of them, instead, he sips on his drink and has Sunoo's sitting directly across.

When he settled into the booth, they start having their usual conversation.

It's impressive to Sunoo, as someone who usually overthinks, to be with someone like Sunghoon that rarely worried about anything. And when they sit and talk about whatever they could, it occurs to Sunoo that he, once again, worried for no reason. And he tells himself that day and night, not to worry, not to stress, and although it seems easy now, he knows by the next award show when he has to see Sunghoon appear so close to that mesmerizing beauty, the cycle would start all over again.

They talk each other's ears off, having no problem telling one another about anything. After a while, Their drinks are gone, but their mouths are still moving. They're still in conversation when the barista suggests they take it elsewhere as the cafe began to close.

Where they end up taking it, is back to Sunghoon's room, settling on his couch he had begged his manager to get, with waters from his mini-fridge and a throw tucked away on their lower halves to help manage the chills they both got from walking through the cold.

"Ahh, it's so cold," Sunoo's the first to speak, sliding his hands between his legs to warm them up. "Oh, how could it be so cold in the middle of summer?" He fights off the urge to shiver.

"Let me see," Sunghoon's hands reach for Sunoo's and pulls them into his own, using friction from his hot skin to warm the others. He offers a shy smile, the first time tonight that they've touched, not something new, but it still causes the both of their hearts to pound.

Sunoo couldn't hold back the blush that creeps up his cheeks, and he tries his best not to do that giddy smile he always does. It didn't matter how many times Sunghoon touched his hands or arms or legs, it was always like the first time to Sunoo's fragile heart. Even now, he wants to scream in bashfulness and run away until his heart stopped acting weird.

"Can I tell you something?" Sunoo didn't know whether to brace for the worst or the best. Either way, he gives Sunghoon a questioning look and nods slowly.

Sunghoon was hesitant at first, but he opens his mouth to speak. "I wish we would've shared one latte today." His cheeks begin to redden as Sunoo's jaw drops open in surprise.

He can't help but chuckle. "It's okay hyung, we can stay up tonight and watch something!"

"No, it's not that," Sunghoon pulls his hands away out of defeat, but Sunoo catches them in time to slip his fingers into the spaces of the others.

He had no clue what he was doing. If any physical touching was involved between the two of them, it was Sunghoon who initiated. But at that moment, his warm hands had left his and he couldn't bear it.

Now stuck in this act that he can't take back, he thinks of something to say, and quickly. "You can tell me, don't be scared," Sunoo went with the teasing tactic, and oh, how he hopes it works.

Sunghoon gave a lazy huff but speaks. "I always want to share a drink with you, Sunoo,"

And there went that giddy smile Sunoo couldn't hold back, at least he knew his strategy didn't crumble to failure. "Me too."

Sunghoon raised his head to meet Sunoo's gaze and at that moment, he was sure his heart could be heard from underneath his chest.

"Do you really understand what I'm saying?"

"I think I do," the giggle that rises from his throat was unstoppable. In any given situation, Sunoo could count on his shy demeanor spawning out and causing an unwanted laugh.

But Sunghoon laughs too, and it made him feel better.

There was a long pause in the air, Sunghoon lifts himself higher on the couch and turns forward to really meet with Sunoo. "I searched for you in the crowd today," Sunoo couldn't help his eyes going wide at the other's words.

"And when I found you I smiled, only to realize you were looking down, and you were sad. Why?"

Again with a nervous giggle, Sunoo tries to find the right words to say. He didn't mean for Sunghoon to see that. Out of the crowds of idols there, of course, Sunghoon would find him, way in the back. He cursed at Jake in his head for holding up a "We love Sunghoon" poster, the one the member made the night before to tease him.

For one, he was upset, he didn't want Sunghoon worrying while presenting in front of so many people, but on the other hand, he feels adored, reminded that once again, he was so ridiculous for thinking Sunghoon didn't care.

"Oh, it was nothing, I was just hungry." The last thing Sunoo wants to do was to speak about his stupid jealousy of Sunghoon's work partner.

"That's what I thought, but then we ate and you were still upset."

Sunoo didn't realize that the other watched him just as closely as he did. He was lost for words, thinking of anything to come up with.

"Were you upset because of her?" He didn't want to answer, but he thought no answer was still answering.

"No, of course not!" His voice was too high pitch, it came out too rushed. and Sunghoon knows him too well.

"Sunoo, be honest with me."

He takes a long sigh and answers back with half-honesty, still not wanting to worry him, and a bit embarrassed that he even let it get this far.

Sunghoon didn't say anything immediately after and instead sits back in admiration, "So you like me that much that you're jealous?"

Sunoo releases his hands to hit playfully on the other's leg. "Ah, don't say it like that!"

"But is it not true?"

"It is, just don't say it like it's a good thing!" And then they're both caught up in a fit of giggles.

"What I'm trying to say is," Sunghoon manages to contain his composure and sits up to be at Sunoo's height again. "I don't want you to feel like that again. And I think there's a way to get you to never feel like that again,"

And as if on cue, there went Sunoo's heart again, but now it was in his stomach. Anything that could've been anything races through his mind. When Sunghoon inches closer, he thinks of his breath and if his lips were dry or too wet. If Sunghoon was going to kiss him, which he had no problem with, he wants it to be as perfect as ever, like in the movies, like the way he hears stories of other people's first kiss' going.

"My feelings for you are so strong Sunoo, and it'll only grow stronger. I have no idea how to stop them," He reaches for the other's hands and gently glides them into place like they were a second ago.

"Will you let me be yours?"

Sunoo could've screamed, he could've run a marathon, been the fastest to climb mount Everest; that's how much adrenaline was running through his body.

He wonders if he's too pumped he'd wake up and realize it was just a dream. Part of him wishes it was, cause stuff like this was too good to be true.

He knows what he wants to say, but he stays silent and in shock, still surprised that Sunghoon just asked to be his boyfriend. And yes, it was against every policy in the book to date, and part of Sunoo wants to object with that piece of knowledge in his brain but he couldn't.

Instead of words, he lungs toward Sunghoon in an embrace. He wrapped his arms around the other's broad shoulders and he feels hands squeeze around his waist. He didn't mean to cry, but he feels the warm liquids spill down his cheeks.

"So is that a yes?"

"Yes, you punk!" Even in a moment like this, his sarcasm had to have some play in this.

They hug for a long time, longer than Sunoo had intended, but now that Sunghoon was his boyfriend, this was probably the new norm.

After a while, they release from one another and Sunoo wipes at his tears, surprised to see Sunghoon doing the same.

They laugh at each other. "God, I thought you were going to kiss me." Sunoo's tongue slipped, he hadn't meant to be so blunt.

"Oh? You did? I didn't know if you were interested in that or not."

"Oh, I'm interested." Again, his tongue speaks before his brain is ready to.

He's scared when Sunghoon doesn't say anything back, anticipating that the other was interested too. Sunghoon meets Sunoo's and something is different in this stare, like he was analyzing. He feels the way his gaze moved from his eyes to his face, making contact with his cheeks that had to be a deep crimson at this point, to his temples to his nose, and then to his lips, which he didn't mean to suck into his mouth.

He wants Sunghoon to be his first kiss, and he can remember the moment when he realized he did. And now that they were dating, it was pretty much written in the stars.

"Okay." It was too straightforward, too relaxed. Sunoo was freaking out and of course, Sunghoon has to be as easygoing as possible.

"But not right now."

"Ah," Sunoo slumps back on the couch, wanting to crawl into a ball at how badly he wants to kiss the other in this moment.

"Hey," Sunghoon reaches out to pull him back up by the shoulder. "You big crybaby. I want to kiss you right now, you have no idea. But this will be your first, so I don't want it to be locked up in my room."

His boyfriend, Sunoo's boyfriend, just said he wants to kiss him. This is no new information, but it ran through Sunoo's head at an alarming rate. He had no problem gushing out his stupid ear-to-ear smile.

"How about this," Sunghoon starts. Sunoo watches his thought process until the other begin to speak them, "Let me take you on our first date so that I can give you the best experience possible."

Sunoo feels his blush not only on his cheek but on his back and flowing throughout his body. Their first date as boyfriends, he couldn't even contain himself at this point.

"Okay," He speaks back.

Sunghoon beams down at his new partner. "Okay."

********

Sunghoon arranges their date a few evenings later since their week had been full of press conferences and fan-meets. Sunghoon's manager didn't even look twice when Sunghoon had suggested that only he and Sunoo go out to eat. Now they were on their way to a high-end restaurant with both of them trying not to laugh in the back.

It was hard to contain his excitement for the evening knowing what he and Sunoo would do that night in the back of his head. And while it might've seemed silly to be so giddy about an ordinary kiss, it kept him up at nights thinking about the way the other's lips would feel on his. He could only compare the younger's lips to light pink marshmallows. The kind you'd like to play with cause they're so soft and mushy. He wanted to skip the dinner and head straight for his next plan, but he knows he has to be patient, for Sunoo's sake.

His manager escorts them inside and sits away in another location of the restaurant at Sunghoon's request. Sunoo chooses a booth the furthest away from the small collections of other families there. He wants to be able to have a relaxed conversation with the older one without others peeping into their discussions.

Just like Sunghoon, Sunoo was a mix of nerves and giggles. He couldn't stop his brain from wavering into the thoughts of kissing his new boyfriend, and it drives him crazy throughout the week. If you asked him now what they've been doing for the past few days, he'd have no answer. it was like he was living in a daze until he could finally be alone with his boyfriend.

Boyfriend.

Sunoo still couldn't believe it. He was Sunghoon's and Sunghoon was his. Of course, after a moment like this, his giddy smile almost never seemed to leave his face. Now the others were curious as to why he was so god damn happy all the time. But he knew why, and so did the other when he realizes his smile has changed too. Into something he'd never think he'd smile for, but in front of him sits his adorable boyfriend, his Sunoonie, whom he'd get to kiss, and it still causes a train-wreck through his brain.

"Mmm, we were right to order the bibimbap." Sunoo beams.

"Mm-hm, it's amazing. But it's not too spicy for you is it?"

Sunoo shakes his head and takes a large bite of the rice dish causing a bit of a spill from his mouth. With embarrassment, he covers it with one hand and gives the other a thumbs up. "It's delicious," he muffled.

He reaches for a napkin but the older one already has it in hand. He has no problem removing Sunoo's hand and wiping it himself. He feels a blush creeping up his neck at the sight of the younger's shocked expression. Seconds later, they're giggling at one another.

"So, do you mind if I shift our conversation into something more intimate? You don't have to answer if you're not comfortable yet."

Both their blushes are indeed there.

Sunoo goes to sip his water to cool his heated face. "Okay."

"And feel free to ask me anything too. I want us to have open conversations." He lets Sunoo finish sipping his water and taking another small bite of food before leaning forwards and asking, "Have you ever been in a relationship?"

Sunoo continues to chew his food even as his eyes go wide. He looks around, scared that Sunghoon's manager would walk up to them at any moment. He knows Sunghoon said intimate but he thought it was work-related or something else. He still forgets that there is something deeper than that when it comes to Sunghoon even if he can't stop the word "boyfriend" from playing like an addicting song.

"Don't answer if it's not comfortable-"

"No! It's okay," Sunoo interrupts. He watches down at his hands that were fiddling with one another in his lap. "I've never been in a relationship before. Unless you count kindergarten, but I can't remember back that far." And they both laugh.

Sunghoon sees that very second of shame that crosses Sunoo's face. He usually plays it off with something teasing or silly to say, but Sunghoon wants Sunoo to know there was nothing wrong with it, In fact, he was overcome with joy at the thought of being Sunoo's first real relationship. But he didn't like to think of it as his first, as if there would be another, so he thought of it as Sunoo's first (and crossing his fingers, last) real relationship.

"And have you kissed anyone before?"

"Ah, Hyung, you know I haven't," Sunoo whines, ending in a pout. The older laughs at his adorable droopy mouth.

"Sorry, just teasing," But the real reason he asked is that even though he couldn't stop the thoughts of kissing him, he worries that maybe Sunoo would backtrack, and he wants to make sure the younger one was as comfortable as possible.

"But you still want to --" his voice drops low, "kiss me, right?"

Sunoo nods firmly, almost accidentally choking on his food and coughing.

"I just wanted to make sure. I don't want you to be uncomfortable with anything, okay? We'll go at your pace, as fast or as slow as we need."

"Ah, hyung, stop it or I'll never stop blushing!" and Sunoo wasn't wrong. The older one loves looking at his tinted ears and his lips that grow a deeper red, the same lips he'd get to feel with his own tonight.

"Okay, okay I'll stop." and they went back to normal conversation until Sunoo himself got a bit curious. With a large gulp of his water, he began to ask, "So, how many people have you kissed? Or, um, been in a relationship with?"

Sunghoon wonders if his answer would be just as embarrassing as the younger's. Sure, this wasn't his first rodeo, but it wasn't necessarily his second or third either. But he didn't want to scare Sunoo with his numbers, and he didn't want to feel guilty either that he let someone else besides the love of his life take all of his firsts.

Sunghoon responds with a kind smile before speaking, "I'd say it was a few people I've kissed. Nothing significant, just when I was a crazy and irresponsible teenager before this life. So maybe nine or ten? There was only one real relationship I've been in and the other one wasn't as serious. But if you add them, that would be about twelve-ish people I've kissed."

He watches Sunoo's expressional face change from panic to calm as he speaks. Panic at the number of people he had kissed, calm when it was only one serious relationship.

And as best he tried not to be, Sunoo was a bit panicked. Twelve-ish people versus his zero? How could this ever be a good experience for Sunghoon? He finds it embarrassing at first, but now he was praising himself that he stayed up an extra three hours after their dance practice to watch "how to kiss" videos. He thought he might wing it, but he knew he just wasn't that type of person. He did what almost all the videos had suggested; practice on your hand. But until the real thing comes, he was still lost in the woods.

Sunghoon watches Sunoo's demeanor and waits for it to calm before asking the next question. "Have you labeled yourself sexuality-wise?"

Sunoo thought for a moment. He has thought of labels, but the whole debacle of labeling gave his mind whiplash, so he didn't like to ponder on it for too long. If anything, and as he had come to find out, he wasn't straight, and he knew that for a while, even if he didn't want to admit it. But he thought back to past crushes and realized he's never really had one. He thought girls were pretty and guys were handsome, that's just how his brain saw it. Sunghoon was literally his first in everything, even crushes.

"I'm not sure. I don't like thinking about it, but I know I'm not straight." and they both can't hold back explosive laughter. They look around to see if anyone was watching, but others were carrying on their own conversations. Sunoo continues, "You were my -- first crush and so, until then, I haven't given it much thought. For now, I think I could fall in love with anyone if I thought we had a connection. How about you? Have you thought about it?"

There's a pause from Sunghoon as he considers the question, then he locks eyes with his younger boyfriend and says with no hesitation, "I'm almost positive I'm bi, but like you, I guess I haven't given it much thought. But my first kiss was with a guy, by accident, but I still remember blushing like crazy and that's when I knew I at least wanted to kiss a guy again. After that, I experimented with both genders. Half those number of kisses were with guys from my school."

Sunoo cocks his head in curiosity, and Sunghoon couldn't help how happy he was at how comfortable the two of them were together. Like peas in a pod.

"I'm interested in hearing your first kiss story."

"Ah, no, no it's so embarrassing."

"Oh come on, it can't be that bad!"

"No, it was honestly the worst." And they carry on into a truly relaxing conversation, still answering questions about one another that leads to even more interesting talks. Eventually, Sunghoon's manager comes around, exhausted that they had sat an extra hour after finishing their food, and begs to leave.

They got in the car and ride with comfortable silence and jaunty music from the radio. Sunoo wasn't paying much attention since he was still on cloud 9 from their previous convos, but he did grow curious when twenty minutes later, they were still riding in the car.

"Hyung, shouldn't we be home by now?"

"Just wait," and he did. A few minutes later, their manager pulls up to a small little condo-style house.

Sunghoon loves watching the confused expression on his boyfriend's face. He couldn't wait to show him what else he has to offer inside.

They walk in, with Sunoo behind like a scared kid, into an alluring modern decorated condo, with greeting cards that awaited their arrival.

"Surprise!" Sunghoon shouts, spooking Sunoo a bit.

"I told you I didn't want your first to be locked in my room! So I rented out a condo for two hours."

And it happens again, Sunoo's awfully repetitive ear-to-ear smile. He looks around at the small interior of the house, very beautifully decorated with a large couch and bar stools that sat along with the kitchen island.

Ecstatic was an understatement for the way he feels with Sunghoon's big surprise. He did wonder in the car how they could possibly be alone even for a short amount of time before the members came to bother them on where they were. He thought they would both huddle in a bathroom for about thirty seconds, kiss, and call it a night, or maybe Sunghoon would wait until way later in the morning to kiss him while they laid and cuddled each other awake, like usual.

And while his excitement brewed to the surface, he did cling to Sunghoon's last few words.

He blinked a few times before speaking, "Two hours? Why do we need two hours?"

Sunghoon watches that familiar blush creep up Sunoo's face, and for a minute he wants to tease that they wouldn't just kiss once, even if that's what he wanted, but he didn't know if his boyfriend was ready for that, no matter how frivolous it seemed.

"It's not just for that, it's to also talk and stuff, but I guess we did most of that at the restaurant." His initial idea was that they'd eat for about an hour and head straight to the condo, but their conversations were getting too good for Sunghoon to just stop it in the middle. Now he couldn't even stop his blush when he realize that they did have another two hours to be alone, and he didn't have many more questions to ask.

"Ah," Sunoo replies.

The older leads them both to the couch where the owners had left small goodies and snacks. Sunoo slips right beside Sunghoon, their entire sides basically touching one another.

Sunghoon's the first to grab at the small pastry, his heart beginning to pound even when he knows what this was all for.

Sunoo can't manage to reach for anything, scared that he'll get a crumb or something stuck in his teeth, or his breath would smell bad. He remembers quietly sliding two mints and a piece of gum into his mouth during the drive, he didn't want to ruin this.

"Do you want one?" Sunghoon says with a full mouth. The other shakes his head.

"I'm okay, still full from earlier."

And Sunghoon nods with understanding. The same silence that had overcome them in the car happened now, but it was different, still comfortable, but a little tense.

And Sunghoon was the first to break the deafening silence after a minute passed by. "Are you nervous?" He asks hesitantly. He watches Sunoo process his question before replying, "No, not really. But it is a little too quiet in here isn't it?" and they both give half-hearted laughs.

He finishes his snack and turned towards Sunoo. "Well, I'm a little nervous."

"Why? I thought you've said you've already done this before."

Sunghoon huffs at Sunoo while the younger one giggles.

"You're so funny, aren't you?"

"I'd like to think I am." and there went back their relaxing environment. They had a few more exchanges before Sunghoon decides to stop beating around the bush. "So kissing." He says, and Sunoo giggles with nerves. He doesn't finish his sentence because the two of them can't stop their nervous laughter.

"Yes, kissing," Sunoo replied back, jokingly.

Their silliness starts to dial down as Sunghoon twists to face Sunoo more properly, His heart had faltered to his feet, but he didn't want his confidence to lack, so he pushes through the blush.

But it wasn't like Sunoo was able to hold on any better. His heart spikes when he realizes how close they were in proximity. He tries not to look down too often at Sunghoon's glossy lips, but it was hard.

"And you're still okay with this right?" He felt he asked too many times, but he never wanted to be wrong about where they both were.

Sunoo does his enthusiastic nod again, the same one he gave Sunghoon in the restaurant.

"Yes Hyung, I still want to kiss you. Really badly." and there went the older's heart, ready to rip from his chest if Sunoo were to say one more endearing comment.

Sunoo didn't mean to sound so impatient, especially when Sunghoon was trying to do the exact opposite, but he was ready. He couldn't even care anymore about his entire body plastered with heat, he just wants to kiss his boyfriend, and kiss him now.

"Should I lead or do you want to?"

"There's such a thing as that?" He didn't remember that in the videos he watched.

"Well, kind of. It's just who's going to lean in first."

Sunoo nods understandingly but just wavered for Sunghoon to do it.

And so he does.

Remember those times in life when Sunoo was given no warning? Well, this was one of those times -- again. Even when he knows that kissing would take place, his eyes grow wider than they were supposed to when the older's lips touch his. He finds it incredibly hard to close his eyes, instead, he was so focused on looking down at their lips that were touching, that he almost forgot to kiss back, the most important part of it all.

The first encounter of their glossy lips was gentle and warm. Sunghoon was worried when the other didn't kiss back. He was ready to pull back until he felt the younger one moving against his. And it was tiny movements, but enough to know that he didn't do something wrong.

Sunoo knows his lips were shaking, and he couldn't stop it. He feels them shake even more violently when the older one gently grabs his chin and tilts it into the correct position. They kiss like this for a while until it's not only his lips that are shaking but his entire body.

"Sorry," Sunoo says, taking a deep breath as they unlock their lips.

Sunghoon looked down at him, worried. "Are you okay? Was that okay?"

"Yes, yes, that was great. I just can't stop shaking." They both give nervous chuckles. Sunghoon's only suggestion was to grab his boyfriend's hands and squeeze them tightly.

"I don't want you to be nervous. I mean I was, but now, since I've got to kiss you, I feel better."

All Sunoo can do is smile. He has been wanting to kiss the older one for he couldn't even know how long now. It was finally that time, and he didn't want to let nerves get in the way.

"Can we try again?" Sunghoon's smile was the only thing Sunoo needed for approval.

Again, their lips met, and this time, Sunoo basked in their softness and how slippery they were. He moved more confidently, he felt the older one respond with even more force and Sunoo sighed out in pleasure.

Sunghoon loved the way the younger boy's lips felt, exactly how he thought they would. He remembers back during a night with the other members when his boyfriend had complained that his lips were too small, but Sunghoon begged to differ.

Their kiss was warm and gentle. Eventually, their hands un-laced so that Sunghoon could replace one back on Sunoo's chin. Seconds later, the only thing that could be heard was the smacking of their lips, and their breathing that grew increasingly heavier.

Sunghoon manages to call the other's name in between the space of their kisses. The other responds in a hum. He had no idea what he was doing, but the only thing he knew is that he wanted the kiss to go further, deeper, so he slipped his tongue along the seam of Sunoo's lips, causing a slight pitchy squeal out of him.

He pulled back and watched Sunoo's expression and his fiery cheeks. "Is that okay? We don't have to, I was just suggesting it."

Sunoo nods and takes no time to place his lips back on Sunghoon's again.

He had no idea what he was really doing, he only ever watched, "how to kiss" videos, not, "how to make-out" videos which he now wished he would've done. He didn't think they'd be in a position like this where it grew to more than just a kiss, but when Sunghoon had pulled away, Sunoo couldn't stand it, he needed the older one back on him. So he initiated whatever this tongue thing Sunghoon had tried and was shocked when the older one slipped his mouth open at his request, the request he didn't even know he was making.

But it's good. No, better yet, amazing.

Sunghoon feels the slickness of the other's tongue, and it drives him wild. He strokes against it and at one point sucks on it, causing a slight groan out of the other.

He can't contain his grin.

He deepens the kiss to its furthest depth, opening his mouth fully and pushing softly on the back of the younger's head to urge him in. Soon their twisting and turning tongues with one another, creating a mix of their saliva that Sunghoon feels could spill at any moment from how dire it was.

Sunoo was so caught in this moment, still not a hundred percent on what he was doing or even if it felt good to Sunghoon, but his excitement had reached its climax, and now there was no going back. He sucked in the older's tongue and couldn't stop the here and there groans from escaping. He left his hands to himself since he didn't know where else to put them, but they flung on their own to hyung's neck, gripping and pulling at his skin. He could tell he was running out of breath but he fights that heated urge, not wanting to let go.

Sunghoon feels it too, that growing desire to breathe, but breathing meant that he wouldn't be kissing Sunoo, and he didn't want that. But he was getting lost in the kiss, he was getting nervous that this was turning into something more than what it was initially supposed to be, and he definitely knows it was when Sunoo grabs his hand and places them on his waist, his intoxicating small waist that Sunghoon was driven crazy about.

So he did what he feels he needs to do, and cups Sunoo's cheek before pulling back with a gasp for air. Sunghoon watches as the younger tries chasing his mouth, causing a stir of emotions to rise in his belly, and as much as he wanted to let him, he wonders if things would've gone too far with no return.

He wasn't ready for that. Yet.

And as much as Sunoo wants more, he knew he was definitely not ready for that, not yet, at least.

"Wow, that was a lot."

"Yeah," Sunoo's voice slurs as if he was drunk. Sunghoon likes the way his eyes glossed over with desire, begging for more, and if Sunghoon wasn't in his right mind, he'd do exactly that, give him more. But he knows better than to let temptation take over, he knows in another moment, when they both plan for it, that more could come and be ten times as exuberating.

Sunoo's heart leaps at the look on Sunghoon's face, something he couldn't pinpoint and a look he's never seen before. He worried he came on too strong or that he stepped out of the boundary that Sunghoon had so carefully sewn.

"Was it too much?"

Sunghoon gives a precious grin, hurling himself into Sunoo's arms, squeezing tightly, "No, it was perfect."

Sunoo's locked in the older's grasp and all he can do is his usual mechanism; giggle.

"Is it over now? Was that all?"

"I think that's where we should stop for now."

Sunghoon saw the younger's pout and knew whatever he was about to ask, he'd say yes.

"One more." He stated boldly and Sunghoon, of course, answered yes, only this time instead of meeting his lips he tilts the younger's head to the side and places fluttery kisses on his pearly skin.

Sunoo gasps in surprise. He tries pushing the older away, complaining that it tickled, but once Sunghoon finds his neck, his giggles turn to soft groans. It felt better than he expected.

He saw neck kisses as something he'd be rather annoyed by, but at this moment, he wants nothing more than for Sunghoon lips to never stop sucking and kissing on his skin.

Eventually, they went into a cycle of kissing each other's necks and finding other places where it feels good; their ears, forehead, hands.

Sunoo likes that they had two very different sides. One intimate and the other playful. He wonders how they went from kissing one another to him swatting off Sunghoon's tickling hands on his sides. An hour later, they're tangled into one another like usual. They play footies while going over their busy schedules and eventually they trace each other's hands like a child to a drawing.

"I wish we could stay like this forever." Sunghoon didn't mean to break their lively mood, but it was what he had wished for the most, that work and everything would just stop so he could spend it with his boyfriend forever.

Sunoo placed his boyfriend's hand on his cheek, marinating in its warmth. "Gosh, I didn't know I had that effect on you,"

And there went Sunghoon's hands tickling Sunoo's sides for his sly remark. "Yah! I was trying to have a moment!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I never want this to end either." And this time he looks up and the other above him and smiles.

Sunghoon looks down at his incredible boyfriend and smiles for the umpteenth time that day. He took in his perfect brown eyes and his perfect hair. His perfect smile, and the way he never wanted it to stop. He did a once over of the younger and noticed a small but dark bruise forming on the nape of his neck. Maybe he was a little over-enthusiastic. He reaches for it to see how it feels, and Sunoo winced.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to be so rough."

"It's okay, I liked it -- a lot." Sunghoon's stomach swirls with butterflies. He had to break eye contact or else that desire he was pushing down might travel its way back up.

This was new territory for Sunoo. After all, that was his first kiss, but he liked seeing Sunghoon panicked, he knew he wanted to do it more if this was the reaction he'd get.

"Noted." This time, Sunoo's nerves were the ones that spiked. If Sunghoon's manager hadn't called him to let them know their time was up, He was sure they'd be in another heated make-out.

They untangle from one another and fix themselves. Sunoo always carries around a small bag of makeup, and good thing he had as he pats on the hickey that Sunghoon had spotted. Sure, he was a bit worried that Sunghoon's manager would see it, or worst, the other members, but Sunoo, deep down, couldn't wait for the next one, or even for when he got to do it to his boyfriend.

"Sunoo?" Sunghoon called out, seconds before he opened the door.

"Yes?"

"Maybe --" he hesitates before speaking again. "When we kiss again --"

Sunoo watches as Sunghoon lowers his head, anticipating all that he would say.

"We can do it shirtless next time." The words feel rushed escaping his mouth, but there was no need to repeat himself when he received the blank expression from the younger.

Sunoo didn't know what he'd say, but definitely not that. Sure he wouldn't mind seeing the older's chiseled chest, but the thought made his heart ache, in a good way.

Sunghoon smirks and walks out, leaving the door open for the shocked Sunoo.

──•°.-ˏˋyoungerˊˎ-.°•──

𐂂 Heeseung ≕ I can't see Heeseung dating someone older than him. It's like one of his required traits when talking about his type. And not just a few months younger, he wants a youngin', someone who he can feel like he needs to protect with his entire life. It's more of just a "him" thing, he wouldn't be able to come up with a good reason why he wouldn't date someone older than him, but he just straight up doesn't. It might be because he compares age to maturity, and he doesn't want to seem immature if his significant other is older. He would love someone younger so that he can show them new things, explore the world with them, and pat them on the head any time they do something cute.

𓄂 Ni-Ki ≕ Ni-Ki wouldn't date someone older than him cause he feels like he would get bossed around all the time (lol). It's more of an immature thing when it comes to Ni-Ki, just cause he is so young, but if someone were to ask him, he would probably say something similar to this. He already gets bossed around at the dorm by the other members, he doesn't need that with his significant other too. He's always the young one wherever he is and wherever he goes. He wants to be the older one in the relationship so he doesn't have to constantly feel like he's the maknae in everything.

𖠪 Sunghoon ≕ I have a feeling that Sunghoon would prefer his significant other to be younger than him, and if they were older then they would have to be the one. Sunghoon has this dominant attribute about him, one that we see him appreciating almost all the time (why do you think they're so many dom!hoon fics..?), he doesn't want that taken away from in for the liking of an older partner. However, if his partner was to be older, then it's someone that means a lot to him for him to give up that dominance that he craves.

𓃠 Jungwon ≕ Jungwon would want someone around the same age as him so that they could have things in common with one another. They could be a few years older or a few years younger, he doesn't mind, but he'd rather have someone about the same age as him in order for him to feel like they have things to do and discuss just because they are so similar in age. That's one of Jungwon's big preferences is that his partner is similar to him, and by doing so, having a similarity in age would help him to feel more comfortable quicker.

𓊿 Jay ≕ The last thing Jay is worried about in a relationship is the person's age. He just wants someone that will love him unconditionally. He actually makes fun of the other members at the fact that they sit around and think about such things as age when talking about what they want in a relationship. Jay sees the benefits in an older or a younger partner, and he would never take time out of his day to make it a do or don't factor. He just wants the one he'll love for the rest of his life and that's it.

𓅱Sunoo ≕ Sunoo doesn't really have a preference, but if he were doing an interview, and they asked, he would probably say someone older. He might pretend that he hates being part of the maknae line, but he absolutely loves being one of the youngest cause to him that equals the cutest and the one to get away with more. He doesn't mind having a more dominant partner while he stays the young one, learning from them and appreciating the things they teach him. He also likes the thought of being younger just cause -- why not?

ꈊ Jake ≕ Jake would love to be with someone with more experience than he has. He has no problem with them leading the relationship, and them showing him the ropes. Someone younger wouldn't hurt, but he just finds women older than him to be more attractive. He would have no idea why he does, he would think it's because they have a maturity that he doesn't, which he finds sexy as hell, and because of that, he'd think he would have a lot more fun with an older partner. He just wants someone the stroke his hair as he lays in their lap as they talk sweet nothings into his ear 🥺.