#svt comedy

Local law enforcement has been trying to get their mitts on him since before he even started the gang, but Seungcheol is smart, he's always made sure to keep his hands squeaky clean.

Which is why, when you heard the news come through on your police scanner that he's been spotted with some real nasty fuckers and this is the chance to get him cuffed, you wanted to get there asap to witness and join the scene.

Who wouldn't want to have the pleasure of slapping some cuffs on Choi Seungcheol and shoving him around a little, after all?

“What did you get him for?” you ask as you approach the scene with nothing but confidence, thumbs hooked into your belt casually.

Seungcheol glances over at you, and his jaw tightens with how hard he clenches his teeth as he takes you in from head to toe, dressed in uniform so crisp it's like you've just pulled it on. You have. He doesn't look impressed.

“Probable cause,” the young, over-eager cop who is getting ready to handcuff Seungcheol informs, sounding almost proud, while his partner keeps his gun pointed firmly at Seungcheol's head.

Seungcheol isn't stupid, reckless at times, yeah, but not stupid. He's been known to get pretty injured, and take some big risks with his own body in order to get what he wants, but even he wouldn't risk making a move in front of a trigger-happy rookie-cop.

“Oh, you fucking idiots,” you laugh, walking over to snatch the cuffs into your own hold.

“What the fuck?” the younger cop baulks, dumbstruck. “Who the fuck are you to just–”

“You really think you're going to get brownie points with the captain by bringing him Choi Seungcheol with no solid fucking cause? You think you can just put the guy in cuffs and the rest will follow? You're fucking stupid, kid.”

“But we caught him.”

“Yeah, and you know what his legal team is like? You're fucking lucky I turned up.”

“Why?”

“Because I'm willing to take him off your hands and deal with it myself. I've had my eye on Choi for fucking years, boys; I've got quite the file on him. What have you got?”

Admittedly, you take a hell of a lot of joy in grabbing Seungcheol's right forearm to force it down and around to his lower back, where you can secure the cuff around his wrist. He grunts at the unexpected force yet doesn't fight you, just clenches his jaw tighter.

“That's a good boy,” you whisper into his ear, while the two cops exchange lost, almost torn expressions as they attempt to silently communicate with one another about what to do.

Clearly, they don't want to just hand the man over to you, but you're right; they don't have shit on Seungcheol, and it would only cause them a lot of hassle to arrest him. He's too smart to talk, even in holding, and would just stare darkly at them, not moving a muscle until he's released. It’s happened before, once, over a year ago, and his legal team tore apart the station so thoroughly that the cops who arrested him had to resign and get minimum wage jobs, despite being the best the precinct had to offer.

Once you've got Seungcheol securely in the cuffs, you grab his bicep and appreciatively squeeze it as you tug on him to signal him to get up. You have to bite back your pleased grin as the powerful man silently obeys your order and gets to his feet. Though he does glare at you over his shoulder. It just makes it all that much sweeter.

“You boys better get back to your patrol before you get demoted,” you warn, shoving Seungcheol towards your car. He stumbles a little and glares at you again, but you ignore it to reach past him and open the back door.

Seungcheol swears and mutters under his breath when you roughly push his head down to urge him into the back of the car. He almost falls flat on his face onto the cheap imitation-leather seats. You shut the door before his colourful language cussing you out spills out any further to reach the cops and they can try to drag this out further. That’s the last thing you need right now.

“What?” you ask the two young men upon facing them again once you’ve closed the door and turned away from the car; they’re still watching you dumbly. “I know; my ass looks great in these.” You smirk smugly to yourself and smack your own ass, making both men jump at the loud, sudden sound.

“Yeah,” the younger agrees mindlessly, eyes now glued to your ass as you open the driver's door.

“Idiot,” his partner hisses, backhanding him. “Don't fucking agree, now she's gonna report you for sexual harassment!”

“She started it!”

While the pair are arguing, you take the chance to climb into your car and drive off with a pleased little cackle at causing the most chaos you can with so little to work with. It’s a point of pride for you.

At the end of the street, Seungcheol kicks the back of your seat. You don't need to look at him to know he's glaring at you; you can feel the burn of his gaze on the side of your face. You love it.

“Now, now, Mr. Choi, please respect my car.” He kicks the seat again, making you snicker. “So ungrateful; I just saved you from being locked in an interrogation room for 24 hours. You'd think you'd be at least a little appreciative.”

“Like fuck am I,” he grunts and shuffles closer to the crisscross of bars separating the two halves of the car. “Didn't have to be so fucking rough, you bitch.” You lift your eyes to the rearview mirror to meet his gaze and grin smugly at him, before returning your gaze to the road in front of you. “Sick fuck; you get off on it, don't you?”

“Damn right,” you confirm shamelessly, with an almost twisted smirk. “Big boss man on his knees for ickle ol' me. Gets me all warm and tingly, Cheolie.”

“How many times have I got to tell you not to fucking call me that?” He's too close to the front seats to kick them again, but he does knee the back of yours where his legs are spread as wide as possible in his pale, ripped jeans to allow him so close.

Fuck, you wish you can see his thighs right now. You quickly look over at him to test your range of sight, but the fucking seats are in the way. Dammit.

You sigh and turn back to the road forlornly. “Well, maybe if you ever punish me like you claim you will, yet never stick to, I might learn my lesson.”

“You'd fucking like it,” he grumbles. You just grin. Yeah, you definitely would. “Pull over and uncuff me.”

“Nope.”

“I'm warning you, little one.”

“Pretty sure I'm the one in charge here,” you chirp, unaffected by his low, warning tone. Though a second later, you're choking on a laugh when his body jerks forward due to you suddenly breaking to join the queue of traffic at a red light. Seungcheol's forehead slams into the grate, making him swear harshly. “Oops,” you offer with false innocence and a big grin.

“You fucking–” he starts harshly, only to cut off when you pull away rapidly at the green light, sending him toppling back in the seats and cutting off with a surprised sound. You don't stop yourself from laughing this time.

“Now, here's what's gonna happen, Cheolie,” you declare when you turn around in your seat to look at where the big gang boss is sitting quietly in the back seat, hands still cuffed behind him between his thick body and the backrest. His thick legs spread with his slouched position.

Man, he's so fucking thick; you know it's true all over his body. You've conveniently walked in on him fucking enough people to know that the man's blessed with a diabolically thick cock too.

Not forgetting the memorable time that he didn't notice your very obvious spy camera in his bedroom for a full two months. For two glorious months you got to watch him wrap a hand around his cock and cum over his chest in live action; automatically recorded for your rewatch pleasure.

You've never been gladder that he has a strict policy of not taking anyone to his home to fuck; you quite enjoyed his solo sessions and still watch them regularly.

In fact, you had been watching one while spread over your own bed when the scanner had caught your attention. You didn't even have the chance to clean up; your thighs are still sticky. But that could also just be from having Seungcheol in handcuffs. It really does a lot for your endless arousal where Choi Seungcheol is involved.

“You happened to interrupt my favourite hobby by almost getting arrested and making me come to your rescue.”

“If you say you were watching those fucking videos again–” he starts.

“I wouldn't have to if you didn't increase your security and make it harder for me to put up new cameras.” You can’t help but pout a little; disappointed and heartbroken at your inability to get new spank-bank material. At least currently. You’re determined where stalking Seungcheol is involved and have already been devising plans.

“I did that so that I don't have your perverted ass watching me in my private spaces!” he barks. “I swear, one day, I'm going to actually choke you.”

“Do it.” The sparkle in your eyes makes Seungcheol groan in frustration and tip his head back, eyes closing as he prays to a god that he doesn't believe in for the strength to handle you and your endless depravities. “Question.”

“What?” He sighs and lifts his head to look at you resignedly. After knowing you for so many years, he knows it's just easier to play along, unless he wants to deal with you badgering him for the rest of the day.

“Would you use your hands to choke me?”

“What else?”

“Your thighs–”

“Shut up,” he groans and pushes himself further upright. “Can you go a single day without making a remark about my thighs?”

You don’t hesitate to respond shamelessly “No. Can you crush my head between them like you did that watermelon?”

“I should've never done that. I thought playing along would make you shut the fuck up asking, but no, you're even worse.”

“I appreciate art, and those thighs, Choi Seungcheol, are pure fucking art.”

“We have very different definitions of art,” he deadpans.

“Yes, I know.” You roll your eyes. “You like silicone and spray tan.”

“Do I?” He raises an amused eyebrow at you when you look at him suspiciously.

“Every woman I've seen you fuck are more silicone than my dildo collection.”

“Not gonna comment on the collection,” he mutters, looking more like he's convincing himself that his curiosity about how extensive your collection may be is not worth actually engaging you in a discussion about your sex life. Which, he knows, heavily involves you masturbating to those videos of him masturbating.

“Do you want to see?” you offer brightly. “I have one that I think could compare to your cock.” Your gaze drops down to his crotch where there's an obvious bulge, which you know is him flaccid. “Maybe...” You suck on your bottom lip thoughtfully as your mind runs wild with memories of the sight of his cock peeking through his fist as he chased his high. Or wrapped in rubber as he bent another woman with fake tits over his desk, or face first against a too-rough wall, to take what he wants.

You really don't know how he can claim to not have a type when you truly have only seen him actually having sex with one type of woman. You've seen him seduce and hit on a wide range of people— not even just women—, but that's always to get his way, and he doesn't fuck them, even if he does sometimes make out with them just to win them over.

“Stop thinking about my cock,” Seungcheol deadpans, snapping you back to reality, and causing you to look up at him, though your gaze darts back down upon realising there's a change in the bulge in your periphery vision. “Don't–”

“Are you getting hard?!” you gasp, shuffling onto your knees excitedly and gripping the grate.

“No.”

“Liar.” You grin, eyes sparkling.

Seungcheol knows he's done for now. For years you've been trying to fuck him, and now, now he's actually lost his usual firm grip on his own libido and let you see that he's not actually turned off by you in any way.

“So, what's going to happen, Cheolie–” He swears at you, head tipping back to stare up at the ceiling. Of course, you ignore the interruption. “Seeing as you ruined my me-time, I'm going to come back there–”

“And uncuff me.”

“No, silly boy,” you giggle. “And ride your giant cock.”

Seungcheol curses under his breath and swallows before lifting his head to look at you.

For a few moments, you both just stare at each other. You, in wait for permission— because although you do a lot of questionable shit, you'd never physically force yourself on anyone—; and Seungcheol clearly in thought.

“Get back here,” he decides in a low, rough tone that makes your lower stomach twist and squeeze with genuine aroused excitement.

“Fuck yeah,” you exhale, climbing out of the car, where minutes ago you parked in one of the many empty warehouses belonging to Seungcheol’s gang.

Seungcheol watches through the window as you make short work of kicking off your shoes and removing your trousers and panties. He tries to look at you properly, but that stupid fucking police uniform shirt you're wearing hangs to the top of your thighs and makes it so that he can't see shit. Not even once you've got the back door open and crawl into the backseat.

“You got a condom?” he asks. He lets out a harsh exhale when you start to palm at his cock without warning.

“Nope.” You shrug carelessly and use your free hand to open his belt, before working on the button and zipper of his jeans. “Got a problem with that?”

“Fucking you raw?” You hum in confirmation and reluctantly let go of his cock so that you can yank down his jeans and boxers. Seungcheol helpfully lifts his hips off the seat, leaning back onto his shoulders against the backrest for balance to let you get the clothing down to his knees and reveal his rapidly hardening cock to your greedy gaze. “You may be fucking psychotic at the best of the times, and weirdly fucking obsessed with me–”

“Hey,” you complain, pouting at him offendedly.

“Are you really pouting at me for calling you psychotic?” he deadpans in disbelief. He's called you worse before, much worse, and you usually just giggle and act like he's given you a giant compliment.

“What? No,” you scoff and move over to straddle his thighs. “It's you saying weirdly obsessed as if you're not the single hottest person I've ever met. How dare you?”

Seungcheol licks his lips and looks down to watch what he thought was you making a move to ride his cock like you said you would. But no, you adjust your position at the last second and sit directly on his left thigh.

“You're so fucking wet,” he comments, voice thick with arousal and awe. His mouth drops open a little when you drag your slick pussy over his thigh and smear wetness over bare skin. “Fuck.”

“This is what you do to me, Cheolie,” you complain, and wrap your hand around his cock roughly. He groans and tips his head forward, thunking his forehead on your shoulder as you jerk him in time with the drag of your pussy up and down his thigh; he tenses it to make his muscles bulge and give you something firmer to grind your clit down on. It feels better than you could’ve imagined, and you’ve fantasised about riding Seungcheol’s beefy thighs more times than you can count.

“You're so fucking shameless,” he grunts after a moment of just watching your movements. You're torturing him with the too-rough, slow pull of your palm against his cock, never close enough to the top to catch any of the precum that's starting to dribble down the side.

“For you, not anyone else.”

“You're going to give me a giant head.”

“It'll match your cock.”

Seungcheol huffs a laugh and lifts his head to look at you. “You gonna sit on it then?”

“I'd love to, but you didn't actually say you're okay with not using a condom. I know you always do with those women.”

“You're not them,” it's perhaps the softest fucking thing Seungcheol has ever said to you. Your movements slow to a stop as you stare at him in surprise. “I trust you with every fucking aspect of the gang; trust you to back me up more than I do anyone else. You think I'd put my life in your hands and not the health of my dick?” He scoffs. “I trust you to not do this if you have anything you could pass on, and I know I sure as fuck don't.”

“And what if you knock me up?” Seungcheol raises his eyebrows at you bewilderedly, barely even noticing that you've stopped grinding on his thigh and have moved over to hover over his cock. “What?”

Seungcheol opens his mouth to respond but you decide to drop down onto his cock, letting his thick length split you open harshly as you both moan at the sudden friction. “Fuck!” he exclaims, head tipped back and eyes screwed shut. “You–you fucking idiot!” He lifts his head to look at you. “You didn't even take it slow! You could get fucking hurt!”

“Good, I like it.” You smirk, proud of yourself for getting the usually so put-together man so worked up. There's something beautifully wild in his dark eyes, and a pretty pink smeared over his cheeks.

You really wish you hadn’t left your phone in your trousers; you’d love to take a photo of him right now. You’d put it as your lock screen, and he’d probably threaten to beat your ass if you don’t remove it, yet he never follows through with his threats to you. A bit of spanking surely wouldn’t be undesirable, not if it’s Seungcheol’s firm hand landing on your ass.

“You're fucking crazy.”

“Yep.” You grin, and grind down against him, breath catching as his cock presses against multiple sensitive spots inside you that has you repeating the swirl of your hips again, and again, and again.

“Fu–fuck, just ride me, shit,” he groans, trying to urge you to bounce by thrusting his hips up against you.

“Don't you like this?” You pout at him, faux-offended, and keep at your grinding. You know he likes it, it's obvious by the tightness of his expression. The pleasure is clear in his furrowed brows and tense jaw, in his shoulders pressed back against the seat, and biceps bulging as he tries to free himself from the cuffs.

You really hope he doesn't break them; you really fucking like him like this. Then again, the thought of Seungcheol using his stupidly beefy arms to break free from his binds so that he can grab your hips and force you to take the pummelling of his giant dick against your pussy walls, well, that's a real fucking nice thought.

It makes you clench down on him, and he moans, head tipping back and showing you the unblemished expanse of his throat. You wonder if he'd let you bite him.

“Can I bite you?” you ask, falling still.

“What the fuck?” He looks at you as if you're insane. Which, not exactly a new expression on the man when he's faced with you. But this time he looks utterly offended too.

“Is that a no?” You pout.

“I don't give a fuck, just keep going!” he demands, looking crazed.

“Can I kiss you too?”

Seungcheol rolls his eyes and instead of verbally responding, he tilts forward to crash his lips to yours, desperation urging him to kiss you in such a filthy way that your pussy throbs. “Bounce,” he growls against your lips, before letting out a string of almost whispered praise when you obey and start to lift and drop yourself, finally riding his cock like both of you have been wanting for, admittedly, longer than he's been in cuffs.

To your surprise, Seungcheol keeps kissing you and chases your lips every time you lean back or turn your head for breath, or just because you think he probably wants to stop and focus on your pussy dragging up and down his cock, soaking him with every wet smack of your thighs against his.

“Che–Cheol,” you pant out, knotting your fingers in his hair to force him back and allow you to actually breathe. He moans deeply, and his eyes roll back.

Very interesting reaction indeed.

You never took Seungcheol to like having his hair pulled; but the filthy moans he lets out every time you experimentally tighten or yank on the strands now you've got the idea in your head, tells you that the man really fucking likes it. Not even mentioning how he fucks up into you harder every time too.

“Good boy,” you compliment breathlessly, looking down at his cock sliding into you as you pretty much just hover over him now; more interested in finding out what makes him tick and turns him on than actually riding him. Not that you need to when he's doing a good enough job fucking you, even with his arms restrained.

You just know he'd ruin you if he had full use of his body. He'd ruin you, and you'd thank him for it and ask to repeat it every fucking day. He could break your hips and you'd thank him.

“Oh, fuck, I–I'm gonna cum,” he warns, making your eyes widen in alarm.

“No!”

Seungcheol opens his eyes to look at you with equally as wide eyes yet doesn't stop fucking into you. “The fuck you mean no?”

“You can't cum yet! I'm not done!”

“I'm gonna–”

“No!”

“Fuck.” His eyes roll back, and he lets out a string of porn-worthy moans as he jerks up into you a few times harshly while filling you with cum.

You can only gawp at him in disbelief, one hand still in his hair and the other braced on his heaving chest. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” you exclaim, slapping his chest as he slouches against the seat while trying to catch his breath back. “You useless man!” You pinch his nipple where it's pressing against his t-shirt, making him yelp and shoot his eyes open to look at you.

“What the fuck?!”

“What kind of a gang boss are you, huh?” you berate, climbing off him, and wincing at the feeling of his softening cock slipping out of you, trailing cum with it. You don't even care that it's getting all over him and the seats as you move. “To bust in minutes; you that pussy whipped, Choi Seungcheol?” you tut and shove him down on the seats.

“Ow, you fucking–” he cuts off, awkwardly wriggling to get on his back instead of laying painfully on his right shoulder. “I'm gonna beat your ass as soon as these cuffs are off, bitch,” he warns, watching you with dark eyes, half warning, half aroused, as you clamber over his body.

“Ooh, call me more names, my likey.” You wiggle your eyebrows at him as you plant your knees either side of his face.

It visibly takes everything in Seungcheol to keep his eyes on your face and not look at your pussy where it’s inches from his face and dripping cum down your slick inner thighs. “You're clinically fucking insane, aren't you?”

“I work for you; comes with the job,” you coo, leaning over to plant your left hand on the door above his head to get your balance while your right hand knots into his hair, making him let out a groan that travels through your body as your pussy meets his parted lips. “Now, make me cum like a good boy, Cheolie.”

To your utter delight, the words are barely out of your mouth before Seungcheol's tongue is dragging through your folds, uncaring that he's swallowing down his own cum as he enthusiastically starts to eat you out like a man starved.

Honestly, you've never seen Seungcheol do this. You've never known if he's the type of man to eat pussy and if so, if he does it as a means to get his dick wet or because he actually enjoys it. But now? Now you fucking know.

Seungcheol is making more noise than you are as he greedily laps and sucks at your pussy, alternating between thrusting his tongue into your hole and suckling on your clit. You swear, the man is determined to suck your soul out through your clit. He's not gentle about it at all; but you can't lie, you really fucking enjoy the rough, messy actions.

“T–that's it,” you encourage when his tongue is back inside of you as deep as he can get it to lick at your inner walls greedily, nose grinding against your clit with every movement of his head, and his eyes closed, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

His face is buried so deep between your thighs that you're positive he can't breathe, but even when you loosen your hold on his hair and stop moving your hips against his face to let him have space, he dives in even deeper somehow.

The pure unfiltered enthusiasm he devours your pussy with sends you hurtling to a powerful orgasm that takes you a bit by surprise when he gets a little too into it and his teeth drag over your skin. You didn't know you like that, but now you certainly do as you shudder and gasp over him. Your fingers tighten in his hair, and you let the vibrations of his groans and moans help ride you through your climax as you smother him in your pussy.

Your legs feel like jelly when you shakily clamber off his face and drop to sit on his still exposed thighs. His cock is making a valiant effort to get hard again. It's very distracting, but you're both breathing too hard and trying to remember how to get air into your lungs to even consider going for round two. Well, mostly.

“Please tell me you have a key for these,” Seungcheol says once he's caught his breath a few minutes later, still laid on his back across the seats with his eyes closed.

“No.” You snigger at the pissed off look he gives you once he lifts his head enough to look at you. “Since when have I needed keys to open locks?”

“Good point.” He drops back down, though immediately lifts his head again when you dance your fingers teasingly over his semi-erect dick. “Don't.”

“Why not?” You pout and wrap your hand around his cock, thumbing at the head a little harshly, but he clearly likes it, judging by the way he gets harder in your hold and hisses, hips pushing up automatically to encourage you.

“Because I'll fucking dislocate my shoulders,” he points out, trying to roll his shoulders but not really doing a good job thanks to his forced position. “And I can't hold you down and fuck you if my arms don't fucking work, can I?”

“You actually want to do that?”

“Always have.” He shrugs, then slumps in relief when you let go of him and shuffle back.

“No, you've never wanted to fuck me.” You frown confusedly at him as he sits up with a few little grunts from the effort and release of pressure against his arms from being laid on them.

“I've always wanted to fuck your insane ass, which I guess makes me insane too. I know you're into some fucked up shit; I've seen the porn you watch.”

“Don't kink shame me.”

“Don't fucking use my computer to watch porn then!”

“But your office chair is big enough that I can spread my legs comfortably on to touch myself.”

“You've masturbated in my office chair?” he deadpans, looking unimpressed. Yet, when you nod in confirmation, you notice the flicker of arousal in his gaze. “Great, now I'm going to be thinking about that when I'm supposed to be working.”

“You can always call me, and I'll happily sit under your desk with your cock in my mouth; keep it warm and ready to sit on when you're done working.”

“This is why I never fucking let you know.” He shuffles towards the still open door, making you back out until you're standing on still slightly trembling legs. “Knew I'd never be able to stop once I had you.” Seungcheol gets out of the car and turns his back to you. “Get these off me so I can bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk.”

“Don't need to tell me twice.” You quickly grab your lock-picking set from your trouser pocket before kneeling down behind Seungcheol to unpick the cuffs.

It takes you longer than it should to pick the lock, purely because you're very distracted by his bare, plump ass right in front of your face. As soon as he moves his just freed hands to roll his shoulders and rub his red-raw wrists, you lean forward and bite his asscheek.

“What the fuck?!” he shrieks, jolting away and turning to face you with wide eyes and red cheeks. “Did you just bite my ass?”

“Yes,” your confirmation is utterly shameless, as you stare up at him from where you’re still on your knees.

Seungcheol stares back at you for a moment, before sliding his hand into your hair and tugging you forward, smirking as your mouth opens wide to accept his cock without question or complaint.

“Good girl,” he breathes out as you immediately start to suck and lick at him, humming and making appreciative noises at finally having his cock in your mouth. It's only taken five years.

Though Seungcheol doesn't let you enjoy him as thoroughly as you'd like. As soon as his tip touches your throat from your attempt to start deepthroating him, he pulls you off and yanks you up to your feet.

You're not given time to even complain or whine or beg for his cock back before he's got you with your hands on the roof of the car, and chest bowing into the open doorway so that he can grind his cock against your still sopping wet pussy.

“You never explained the knocked-up comment,” he informs as he crowds up against your back, one big hand holding your wrists by the edge of the roof and the other gripping your hip tight.

“What?”

“You said about me getting you knocked up.”

“And?”

“We both got done, on the same fucking day, remember? We’re medically infertile.” He nips at your earlobe a little harshly, and grins smugly when your breath catches and you press back against his cock.

“Never heard of a breeding kink, Cheolie?”

“Huh, you're into that?”

“I'm into anything if it's you.”

He pauses his movements, lips parted against your ear for a few seconds, before he suddenly lets go of your hip and pulls his own backwards so that he can grab his cock and lead it to your entrance. He feeds it into you just far enough that he can let go and take your hip back into his hold before he thrusts forward, burying his cock into you in one quick, hard thrust. It jolts you forward and makes you moan loudly.

“Gonna fill you up every fucking day, baby,” he promises, sounding far more affected than he did moments ago. “Gonna fill you with my cum until it sticks. Gonna breed you so fucking good, yeah?”

“Fuck, yeah, yeah, fuck me full, Cheolie,” you agree, nodding madly, and arching your back to push back against him, while widening your stance to get him deeper— even if it means you have to push up onto your tiptoes to account for the height difference.

“That's my good fucking girl,” he approves, pushing your shirt up and holding it at your waist to give him full view of your ass as he begins to fuck into you harshly.

Honestly, you have no idea if you're truly alone in the warehouse; you know that various gang members use the warehouses for meets and their own trysts, but you do not give a single flying fuck.

You moan loud and shameless as Seungcheol fucks all thoughts from your head. He clearly doesn't care if anyone hears either; he moans and grunts without care, growling dirty words at you— which you can barely babble a response to due to the quickly growing pleasure in your body.

“Never letting anyone touch this pussy again,” he declares in amongst his moans and panting, not slowing down once in his determination to ruin you. “You’re mine, understand?”

You nod rapidly but can’t answer as that ball of pleasure in your belly clenches so tightly at his possessive words. As soon as his palm comes down on your ass with the intention of prompting you to verbally respond, that ball bursts; sending pleasure through your whole body, and making your consistent moans turn higher in pitch, babbling his name repeatedly as your pussy convulses around his still-pistoning cock.

“Fuck, baby,” he groans, fucking into you a few more times before he slows to a gradual stop. You can feel that he’s still hard within you and it makes you whine a little, pushing your hips back against him to try and get him back to work. “You’re shaking,” he points out, pulling out and carefully helping you down onto flat feet, taking some pressure off of your thighs. You melt back against him when he winds his arms around your waist supportively and kisses your head.

The two of you remain like that for a few minutes as you catch your breath back, and your body stops shaking like a fucking leaf.

“You okay?” he asks softly, lips trailing over your cheek and temple. It’s much too tender. You like it, yeah, but you hadn’t been prepared for the care he’s giving you.

He’s always cussed at you and called you names while looking at you with disturbed expressions. You’ve never cared about that; the names and harsh words have truly never bothered you, they amuse you more than anything. Seungcheol has never actually hurt you; even when he’s slapped you away from him or thrown items at you, he’s always purposely near-missed you. His aim is too good to unintentionally miss you all the time.

But this; the fingers trailing over you mindlessly, the lips brushing against your skin, and the words spoken in a fond voice you’ve never even fucking heard the man use, well, that’s a lot to take in.

“No,” you reply.

“Oh, what can I do? Did I hurt–”

“You can go back to fucking me.”

“You’re still shaking.”

“That’s because you were doing a good job! Gold star, Seungcheol!”

“What happened to Cheolie?”

“You don’t even fucking like it!” You groan and wriggle out of his arms with every intention of pushing him away and getting your clothes back on, but he pulls you right back in, chest to chest, and looks at you so devastatingly fucking adoringly that your breath catches in your throat in a giant ball of what the fuck Choi Seungcheol.

“I like it,” he murmurs. “I like it because it’s you. I just…couldn’t let you know that.”

“And now you can? You fucked me and now suddenly everything changes?”

“You wanted things to be the same?” He frowns, hurt trickling onto his expression as his arms fall away from you.

“I thought it was just sex,” you admit.

“Right,” he scoffs, yanking his boxers and jeans up as he steps away from you, dick sadly deflated despite being hard and pressed against your ass a minute ago. “See, this is why I never fucking wanted this!” he exclaims, turning angry now as he reaches down to grab your panties and trousers to toss at you harshly. You wince when the police-issue gun and holster smack into your ribs.

Seungcheol pauses for a split-second, noticing that he hurt you, but then he carries on, throwing your boots at you next. You don’t even bother trying to catch them and let them collide painfully with your thighs then topple down, the hard edges of the soles sending pain through the tops of your feet.

“Why are you just fucking standing there?!” he barks, stalking over to yank the items from your hands and get to his knees to roughly force your feet into the trousers and panties at once.

“Seungcheol–”

“Shut the fuck up,” he snaps. For the first time, you listen to him.

A few minutes later, you’re in the passenger seat of the car as Seungcheol drives recklessly through the back streets. You don’t even have it in you to tell him to slow down because you both would get arrested, and you don’t think even his lawyers could talk him out of getting locked up for driving a fake police car— with fake licence plates, and a fake cop in the passenger seat— over the speed limits, without either of you wearing seat belts.

He drives to a side street behind his apartment building, and doesn’t even put the car in park, just stops it and gets out, slamming the door behind him before storming off. You take it for the harsh dismissal it is and climb over the centre console to get into the driver’s seat to head off.

For the first time in years, you don’t see Seungcheol for days. You don’t think it’s wise to test him right now. You still don’t think he’d hurt you, but you think your presence would hurt him, and you don’t want that.

Despite what Seungcheol obviously thinks— and with good reason too because you didn’t say anything otherwise—, you do care about the man. A hell of a fucking lot.

It wasn’t instant; there wasn’t a moment where your eyes fatefully locked across the table on that set-up blind date between you and you just knew you were destined to live happily ever after together, that stuff is all bullshit anyway. You met like any other pair on a blind date with nothing spectacularly big and romantic about it. Really, the date was really both of your little groups of criminals and deviants trying to get information on the other group. You had both easily clocked one another, and although it could’ve gone badly, Seungcheol had asked you to team up on a job, and his gang was born shortly after.

Your connection was about work from day one; but spending time with the man— even when he told you to fuck off when you would jokingly hit on him—, it kind of really gave you a giant fucking weak spot in the shape of his stupid, charming face.

The relentless flirting and sexual remarks, although they are all genuine, became your way to hide the truth of your feelings. Lean into lust to hide the love. It just seems that it worked too fucking well.

You had honestly forgotten that the flutter in your stomach when your eyes meet Seungcheol’s isn’t all lust; that it isn’t just horny little demons running rampant and trying to tell you to get his cock in you, but butterflies too. Excited, pretty little butterflies flapping their wings and trying to lift you up into the clouds to where you and Seungcheol can skip merrily through the meadows together hand in hand like that scene in Shrek before the villagers chased the ogres down with pitchforks.

But that isn’t realistic. You can’t skip hand in hand through a meadow, mostly because Seungcheol has damaged his knees from throwing himself around too much to skip anywhere— though it would be funny to watch his hobbling attempt.

Well, at least up until a few days ago you thought it wasn’t realistic. You didn’t think Seungcheol has anything but a respect for you as one of his gang members, and a fucking good one too. He often turns to you to get shit done when others have failed. Or if it’s too risky, too important to send others in, you’re the one he goes to. You thought that’s all your relationship equates to.

But it seems, you haven’t paid enough attention to Seungcheol to have missed the man apparently having feelings for you.

It’s now obvious to you that he holds some kind of candle for you, but you’re not naive or hopeless enough to assume his tender touches— which had turned to hurt then anger— to be love. Choi Seungcheol likes you. Romantically.

Sexually too. That part was great, top marks. Gold star indeed. If that’s all it had been, you’re pretty sure you’d have been spread over his desk every day since; or tucked under it to cockwarm him with your mouth just like you offered. That would’ve been great.

But nope, feelings. And not the touching each other up kind of ones.

All in all, it’s a giant fucking shitshow, and not in the way you purposely orchestrate for your own twisted amusement. You hope things will fix themselves shortly, because you don’t know how much more of this you can handle.

But honestly, you really don’t think they will.

“So,” Minghao starts as he invites himself to join you in the car you’ve borrowed for the fun of it. You look at him with noodles hanging out of your mouth, and wide eyes. “What the fuck did you do to piss Seungcheol off so much?”

“Me?” you garble around the food still hanging out of your mouth and point at your own chest. The look the man gives you is utterly disgusted, and it makes you snigger before you actually chew and swallow your food. “Why do you assume I did something to piss him off?”

“Maybe the fact you haven’t been around in a week and every time I’ve suggested he asks for your help like we need, he pretends to have never heard of you while breaking yet another fucking pen in his fist.”

“Sounds like you need to stop getting cheap pens,” you mutter, reaching for your drink in the cup holder, but he takes it.

You watch as Minghao noisily slurps up the liquid through the straw, defiantly holding eye contact with you. But then he gags and quickly puts the cup in your awaiting hand so that he can turn, open the car door, and spit the drink out onto the parking lot of the restaurant you’ve parked in to enjoy your lunch.

“What the fuck is in that?!” he shrieks when he’s done sputtering, turning to look at you with wide eyes behind his wire-framed glasses.

“Coke.”

“That is not coke.”

“Both kinds. And mint schnapps.”

“I fucking hate you.”

“Valid.” You nod and slurp at your unholy concoction.

It wasn’t even your choice; you accidentally dropped a badly sealed baggie of the white powder into your cup when you tipped the contents of the hip flask from the glovebox— where you also found the baggie of illegal drugs— into the cup. You had assumed it was whiskey or vodka or something normal, not fucking mint schnapps of all things. That’s what you get for tipping out the contents of a stolen hip flask from a stolen car into your drink without at least giving it a cursory sniff-test first.

Minghao watches you with something like fear on his features when you don’t even flinch at the truly disgusting flavour that coats your tongue. You’ve had worse things in your mouth, you can say that much.

Mostly thanks to Soonyoung’s own habit of shoving any food and drink into his mouth to consume like some kind of tastebud-less heathen. There’s probably a reason you’ve been friends for so long. One that doesn’t involve a blood pact you made as idiot children that you’re both too stubborn to turn your back on first.

“So, what did you do? Ask to put something questionable in his ass?” Minghao soldiers on as he steals the unopened chocolate bar from the dashboard to open and bite into, looking very relieved to have the haunting taste of your drink covered by the sweet on his tongue. “Ask him to put something questionable in your ass?”

“No,” you scoff, poking at your noodles with your chopsticks.

Minghao pauses in his rapid chewing to watch you consideringly. He’s never seen you like this; like you have actual human emotions beside lust and maniacal joy at making others suffer in various ways borne of your chaotic ideas.

“It’s serious,” he realises in a mutter. You shrug and give up with your lunch, suddenly not hungry for it, and pass it over to him so that you can start the car up. “What happened?”

“What’s the job?” you ask as you drive out of the lot in a way that closes the car door he hadn’t fully closed. The slam of the door makes Minghao jolt, he had forgotten it was even open, and then he rolls his eyes a little at you not asking him to shut it before driving off.

“He’s dealing with it.”

“That’s stupid if you think I should be doing it.”

“Yeah, well, according to him, you don’t exist, so he’s the best chance.”

“If you wanted to send me in, that means it requires a delicate touch–”

“You set a warehouse on fire last month; that’s not a delicate touch,” he reminds in a deadpan tone. You’d think that after these years of knowing you, he’d be used to your habits and hobbies by now, but nope. Minghao never fails to look at you like he has no idea what kind of demonic entity you truly are under your meatsuit. It’s kind of a compliment, really.

“That wasn’t for a job, that was for fun, leave me alone.”

“You…whatever.” He waves a dismissive hand, batting the subject aside before you can divulge further information about your less than moral interests. Which says a lot coming from the second-in-command of such a notorious gang. “He can handle the job; it’s just a different direction than you’d take.”

“Has he gone in fists swinging?”

“No. He’s seducing someone for information.”

“Ah, dick swinging,” you mutter, feeling a sourness growing in your chest and rising up your throat. You’ve not felt this before when you’ve heard of Seungcheol seducing someone to get the job done.

You haven’t even felt it when you’ve literally walked in on him balls-deep in some woman bent over his desk. You always just stand there until he notices you, then annoy him by dragging out whatever it is you’ve turned up for. It’s all fun and games. This burning tickling your throat isn’t.

Jealousy is not something you’re personally familiar with, and you immediately decide you hate it.

“You know he doesn’t…” he trails off, expression twisting as he recalls something, based on his expression. “Well, usually he doesn’t fuck his marks, but–”

“What?!” you exclaim, slamming on the breaks, and looking at Minghao with crazed eyes.

Minghao yells, which only grows when a car audibly swerves behind to not rear-end you. “Fucking drive, you idiot!”

“He’s fucked the mark?” you ask, voice eerily level in a way that makes Minghao look at you and swallow thickly.

For the first time, Minghao is genuinely scared of you. He knows you’re an unhinged, unrelenting mess at the best of times; and in a way, you do always scare him, because he never knows what you’re going to do. You could easily hurt him or anyone, but you haven’t; you’re usually too busy making sexual remarks to Seungcheol. Or to someone about Seungcheol, loudly enough that the man himself can clearly hear.

And Minghao knows you’re a competent fighter, he’s seen proof of it, but he’s never seen you fight yourself. He’s never seen you look so serious and pissed before either.

The carnage he’s seen the aftereffects of; the destruction you’ve caused, yet you’ve always had a grin on your face afterwards as if you’ve just been to an amusement park and had the time of your life splattered with blood. He knows how much damage you can cause in a good mood. So Minghao is genuinely terrified of what hell you can create when you’re in a foul mood, and right now? He thinks you would burn the world down along with anyone who gets in your way.

“He–he hasn’t, but he said he will if he needs to.”

“Where is he?”

The apartment you let yourself into is familiar, and really not where you expected to end up when Minghao had given you his phone to let you use the app he and Seungcheol use to track each other. You hadn’t known about this app, and you can only assume Seungcheol had made sure you didn’t know so that you couldn’t use it to stalk him. Which…valid worry. You definitely would’ve stalked him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you demand as you step into the living room and find Seungcheol slouched on the couch with a glass of whiskey in one hand, the bottle in the other and balanced on his thick thigh.

“This is my home,” he points out. “The fuck are you doing here?”

“Where is she?” you ask, peering around before inviting yourself to walk through the apartment, slamming open doors to rooms as you go in search of the woman Seungcheol was seducing for information.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he retorts, following after you once he’s put the glass and bottle down on the coffee table. “Who?”

“The mark; Hao said you were planning to fuck her for information.”

“And you thought I’d bring her here?”

“Well how the fuck should I know?!” You turn to face him. “You don’t fuck your marks, Seungcheol! But you were going to, or have…” You eye him over; a black shirt unbuttoned to his chest and tucked into black trousers that show off his thick thighs and plump ass. Trousers you’ve told him you hope he never stops wearing, and then he promptly did stop, to your disappointment. At least you thought he had.

“I didn’t,” he replies, shoving his hands into his pockets after they twitch at his sides.

“No?” You lift your gaze up to meet his eyes, or at least try to, but he’s pointedly looking at the wall beside your left shoulder. “Did you get what you needed without fucking her?”

“No,” he admits, and tenses his jaw a few times.

“Then what?”

“I don’t want to fuck her! I thought I could do it, but I can’t.” He huffs and turns to storm back to the living room. Of course, you follow, and watch as he downs the contents of his glass before pouring out more.

“Why did you suddenly think you could when you’ve never wanted to fuck for a job? You said that to me before; that you don’t ever want to fuck for work.”

“Because…it doesn’t fucking matter.”

“Obviously it does.” You walk over and take the glass from him after he’s swallowed down the contents again. “This isn’t you, Seungcheol. I’m the one who drinks at 1pm, not you.”

“Well, maybe I should be allowed to be the fucked-up asshole for once, huh?” He stares down at you darkly. “Why are you allowed to be a fuck up and I can’t?”

“Because you’re better than me, you always have been.” You pick up the bottle and turn to take it to the kitchen.

“I’m sorry,” he apologises as he follows you. “I don’t mean that. You’re not a fuck up.”

“I am. You know it, I know it, everyone knows it, Seungcheol, so–”

“Please stop calling me that,” he breathes out.

You finish putting the lid on the bottle and put it in the liquor cabinet before putting the dirty glass in the dishwasher, and then you turn to look at him while leaning back against the counter behind you with your arms crossed loosely over your chest.

He looks…sad. You hate it.

“That’s your name, that’s what everyone calls you. That’s what you’ve been trying to get me to call you for years.”

“And you never fucking listened. Can’t…can’t we go back to that?”

“I don’t know, can we?”

Seungcheol does nothing but look at you for what feels like more than enough time for him to come to a definite answer hours ago. But he just keeps looking at you with those giant sad fucking eyes, and his fingers gripping the edge of the island counter in front of him as if he needs to hold on to something and what he wants to hold isn’t in reach.

“I can try,” he offers. “Can you?”

“I’m not the one who has been denying the other’s existence.”

“You’re not the one who got their heart broken,” he retorts sharply before taking a deep breath as he closes his eyes. A clear sign of trying to calm himself. “No, I can’t; I can’t do this,” he decides, opening his eyes to land them back on you. “You need to leave.”

“For how long?”

“This is my apartment–”

“That’s not what I meant,” you uncross your arms and walk the few steps to the island in front of you, on Seungcheol’s adjacent right and close enough that either of you could easily reach out and touch. Neither of you do. “I’ll leave your apartment; I won’t argue about leaving now. But I need to know if this is the end of everything, Seungcheol. The past five years of working together; does it end now?”

“Is that all you care about? The fucking gang? Not our relationship? But the fucking gang?”

“That is our relationship.” You give him a bewildered look. “Before last week there’s never been anything but the gang.”

“You’re serious,” he mutters in disbelief.

“Well, yeah.”

“Get out.”

“That doesn’t answer–”

“Are you seriously that fucking stupid?!” he snaps, poking his own head. “You got nothing going on up here past work, huh?”

You just stare at him, not sure how to respond, because admittedly, the things he’s been saying to you today have been hurting. Five years of insults and degrading names hasn’t once bothered you. But he’s never said hurtful things like this before.

“How Soonyoung has put up with you for so fucking long is beyond me.” He scoffs, and steps backwards away from you with a nasty expression on his face, eyes dark and cold in a way he has never looked at you. “He must be as fucking stupid as you.”

“Don’t you dare talk about him like that,” you warn, your own expression turning hard in defence of your best friend. “Say whatever you want about me but do not say a bad word against him.”

“Why not? Hurt your feelings?” he taunts. “Didn’t know you have those. Sure fucking fooled me.”

“Of course I have feelings, you dick, some of us just know how to keep them to ourselves and not let them rule our mouths.”

“Well you’ve kept yours really fucking close, great fucking job there. Gold fucking star. You’ve kept to yourself so much nobody knows shit about how you feel. I thought I did, but obviously, I was fucking wrong.” He turns to walk off yet turns back around and stalks right back to lean his palms on the counter and stare intently at you. “Just tell me this, did I ever mean fucking anything to you? Did you ever even think of me as a friend? I thought you did, but you’ve dismissed this so fucking easily. You’re so fucking willing to walk away and only ask about the gang that I’m pretty sure I’ve been a naive fucking idiot this whole time.”

“Friends?” you mumble in surprise, because honestly, you’ve never thought of Seungcheol as your friend. You’ve never tried to name what he is to you, but you’re not sure you could if you tried.

Soonyoung is your friend, even Minghao you’d consider a friend. But Seungcheol? Perhaps, at one point, you could’ve thought of him in such a way, but now you’ve been pushing down your true feelings for him for so long that you don’t even know how to classify him. Friend doesn’t feel right.

“Yes, friends, you know, people you like being around, people you can talk to about stuff other than work, get a drink with and have fun with.”

“Have we ever done any of that?” you genuinely wonder quietly.

You watch as the realisation dawns on Seungcheol, and his anger melts into something pained. “No,” he admits quietly. “We haven’t.”

“Well, I guess there’s the answer,” you mumble, chest aching at what you know this means. That you and Seungcheol have never truly had a relationship of any kind outside of work. You’ve never realised that before; never before had to consider what that means. You wish you had, maybe then things now would be different.

“Right,” he huffs a humourless laugh as he backs up, eyes looking anywhere but you even as he turns. “Show yourself out and don’t…don’t come back.”

You can’t be certain, he talks too quietly and moves out of the kitchen and down the hall too quickly, but you think you catch the glint of tears on his cheeks.

Weeks pass as you go about your life. As you try to make a new life without Seungcheol or his gang playing such a pivotal part in it.

You listened to his wishes; you left and didn’t return. You deleted his number and told Minghao it’s probably wise if he tells everyone that you’ve left the gang and won’t return; and then you deleted and blocked all of their numbers too, once they started calling and texting to ask what the fuck happened.

Soonyoung didn’t know what happened at first, but he loyally left the gang too, and then you both decided to just get new numbers to avoid the hassle of blocking everyone you’ve ever known in relation to the gang. And then they started to turn up at your apartments, so you packed up and left the city, and Soonyoung still didn’t ask what happened.

Of course, you did tell him though. You told him everything that happened with you and Seungcheol and had to talk Soonyoung down from driving back to the city to try and beat up Seungcheol for the things he said to you in his apartment. Try being the keyword, because although Soonyoung is more than a competent fighter and plenty strong enough, one of Seungcheol’s biceps is likely bigger than Soonyoung’s head.

But Soonyoung did calm enough to slap you around the head and call you an idiot for not telling Seungcheol the truth about your feelings when the man was clearly trying to start a relationship with you after fucking you dumb. You argue that the man had just fucked you dumb, so your brain wasn’t working. Soonyoung said your brain doesn’t work full stop. Which…is kind of valid, at least where human relationships are involved.

And that leads us to your new life with your best friend in another town a two-hour drive from the city, and where Soonyoung has already made friends with a man who it took Soonyoung a worryingly long time to realise is a hooker.

You quite like his new friend, and you like playing bodyguard with Soonyoung when Junhui dresses up in expensive clothes to bag the expensive clients his pimp sends him to meet. Junhui loves it too; having the two of you dressed up in suits and following behind him to keep him safe. He doesn’t even mind that you both stay at the edge of the room when he gets to work; honestly, you think he likes putting on a show for an audience.

“This guy is a friend of Jeonghan’s,” Junhui explains from the backseat of the fancy car that you can proudly say you didn’t steal. Soonyoung stole it. You’re so proud of him.

“Which is why daddy Hannie is joining,” Soonyoung hums in understanding, nodding his head, and almost hitting a lamppost before swerving at the last second after peering over the top of his dark sunglasses.

“Remove the fucking glasses, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan, Junhui’s pimp, sighs from Junhui’s right, with both hands gripping the leather seats under him. Which is very understandable. “And please stop lying to me that you have your driver’s licence.”

“Told you it’s obvious,” you mutter to your best friend, who slaps your tit as he childishly mocks you. So you backhand him in the dick, making him groan and double over, one hand over his crotch and his other arm hugging the steering wheel he’s leaning his chest against while biting the top of it in pain.

Junhui sniggers at the antics between you and your best friend, as amused as he ever is by the two of you. While Jeonghan, not for the first time, wonders what kind of circus Junhui found the pair of you in and if they’d take you back.

“So, what’s the deal with this dude?” you ask a few minutes later when Soonyoung parks over three spaces in the hotel parking lot and Junhui cheers at Soonyoung remembering to apply the brakes in time for once.

“He’s an old friend in town for business and wants to sweeten the guy he’s meeting tonight, so he asked me to bring my best,” Jeonghan replies while checking he has everything in his pockets by patting his clothing down thoroughly.

“Aw, Junnie, you’re daddy’s best,” Soonyoung coos, grinning over at Junhui, who preens proudly.

“I don’t remember giving you permission to call me daddy, Soonyoung. I said that to her, not you,” the pimp points out as you all get out of the car.

“What’s hers is mine and mine is hers,” your best friend replies airily.

“You’re married?”

“What? Ew, gross, no,” Soonyoung retches, and then stumbles when you shove him. He collides with the wall of the hotel, making you snort a laugh; at least until he turns and you notice that his glasses are broken, and you can see his unimpressed glare through the missing section of the lens. “I just got these!” he exclaims, taking off the sunglasses, and then carelessly tosses them into the bushes you pass by.

“I’ll get you another pair.”

“Better do. I want Gucci ones.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

When Jeonghan looks over at the pair of you in the elevator up to the penthouse suite, he has to do a double take at the Gucci sunglasses perched on Soonyoung’s nose. “Where did you get those?” Soonyoung points at you. Jeonghan gives you a flat look. “Well?”

“They were just sitting there.” You shrug.

“Where?”

You stare back at Jeonghan, making your expression innocent, knowing how much Jeonghan hates it when you pickpocket people for the fun of it. “Some guy’s head.”

“You stole sunglasses while someone was wearing them?”

“It was really impressive.” Soonyoung nods, entirely missing the point of Jeonghan’s gawping. “Jun’s really good at distracting; they make a good team.”

“You fucking helped?” Jeonghan gawps at Junhui, who just smiles sweetly at his pimp. “I’m banning you from hanging out with them.”

“You’re mydaddy, not my father,” Junhui scoffs.

Jeonghan clearly wants to argue more, but the ding echoes in the metal box, signalling that you’ve arrived at the suite; so he just takes a breath, and schools his expression in an impressively short time while the doors open.

The four of you step out into the little lobby before the suite entrance doors, and immediately, you swear, recognising the suited men standing guard outside of the suite.

“Oh, fuck,” Soonyoung whispers.

“You assholes!” one of the men exclaims, stalking over to flying-kick Soonyoung in the back of his thigh. “You fucking ghosted us!”

“Ow, ow, Kwan, stop it!” Soonyoung cries out, trying to stop Seungkwan’s furious kicks and slaps. “I need my legs to protect my slut!”

“Hey!” Junhui exclaims, and slaps Soonyoung too. “I am not yours.”

“Ow, attack her!” Soonyoung tries to shove Seungkwan over to you, but he takes one look at you and shrinks back before going back to hitting Soonyoung while hissing that you scare him too much to try to hit.

“Were you part of the gang?” Jeonghan asks, looking at you.

“You could say that,” you murmur, and look over to the grand double doors, then back to him. “You’re meeting Seungcheol?”

“Yes.”

“We shouldn’t be there, me especially.”

“Do you owe him money?”

“No, nothing like that we just…aren’t on good terms, I guess you could say.”

“Yeah, what happened anyway?” Seungkwan wonders, suddenly at your side and linking his arm with yours. “What’s the gossip?”

“I assume you enjoy having the use of your hands,” you speak, raising an eyebrow at Seungkwan, who backs away with his hands held up in surrender. “Good boy.”

“How much issue would it cause to take you in there?” Jeonghan asks, looking between you, Soonyoung, Junhui, his own expensive watch, and then the doors and back again.

“Oh, a shit ton,” Soonyoung answers with a hum. “We moved two hours away for a reason.” His face falls, and he looks at you with a sad pout. “Do we have to move again now that they know where we live?”

“No!” Junhui whines, wrapping his arms around you. “You have to stay. You’re my bodyguards! I feel so much safer with you watching over me, and I like having you watch too!”

“You can discuss this later; we need to meet Seungcheol before he gets sulky at us for being late,” Jeonghan sighs, tugging Junhui to his side. “You two wait out here. I’ll have to discuss this with Seungcheol to see if he will be against you doing what I fucking pay you for.”

“You pay us?” Soonyoung mutters confusedly, while you just nod at Jeonghan in agreement, so he and Junhui go into the room. “He pays us?”

It all goes a lot better than you expect. You don’t even need to be in the same room as Seungcheol. In fact, you don’t even see him until 3 am the next morning when you’re pulling him off of the man he was supposed to be making a business contract with; but apparently, Seungcheol found it necessary to beat the shit out of him in the hotel lobby.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask once you’ve got Seungcheol outside and around the side of the building. He’s seething, blood smeared over his hands and splattered on his face. “You were supposed to be making an ally, and I thought it was going well! What the fuck happened?!”

“You! It’s always fucking you!” Seungcheol turns to you and puts a hand on your upper chest to roughly pin you against the wall. You let him. “It was going well until he fucking– Why are you even here? You’re not a bodyguard!”

“Yes, I am,” you frown. “I’m here to keep Junhui safe, and I’m good at it.”

“Not in the eyes of assholes like that. You’re just more eye candy bastards like him think they can have. “

“Is that why you beat the shit out of him and ruined the past hours of work? Because he said some remarks about me?” you scoff. “I can handle that, Seungcheol, I–” You cut off when his hand is suddenly at your throat. He’s not squeezing or applying any pressure, but it’s a solid warning that he could.

You should probably be scared, but you’re not; even if the man looks utterly psychotic with blood smeared over him and wide eyes staring down at you. It’s probably really fucked up how hot you find it.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he growls, crowding you further against the wall, getting so close that his thick thigh slots between yours and his left forearm leans on the wall above your head. “What’s my name?” You raise your eyebrow. “Well?”

“Seungcheol,” your defiant response has his fingers curling around your throat and starting to cut off your air flow. It just makes your excitement grow and show in the sparkle of your eyes.

“Try that again,” he warns in a murmur, moving even closer, and pressing his thigh up against your crotch. “Go on.”

“Seungcheol.”

“Bitch.” And then he’s kissing you with the same desperation he first kissed you. His hold is firm around your throat, and his thigh is already rubbing against you in a way that has you grinding down while gripping his waist in one hand, and hip in the other over those fucking trousers that drive you insane. Well, more insane than you already are where Choi Seungcheol is involved. Which really says a lot.

“Uh.” Of course, of fucking course it’s Soonyoung who interrupts you, making you both look at him with matching pissed off expressions. “We should go; that dude is getting taken to the hospital, and the hotel is willing to look the other way thanks to Hannie, provided we all leave and you never show your face again here, Seungcheol. Hannie and Junnie have already gone.”

“She’s coming with me,” Seungcheol informs. “You go.”

“Can’t. Daddy’s banned me from driving.”

“Then fucking walk, Soonyoung.”

“We live so far away,” Soonyoung whines.

“I’m going to break his face if he doesn’t leave right fucking now,” Seungcheol warns as he looks at you.

“Just drive, daddy’s gone,” you point out with a shrug.

“Good point.” Soonyoung nods, then turns and walks off just like that without another word or complaint.

You hope he won’t crash on the way home, or forget that he’s driving a stolen car, meaning that he shouldn’t take it to your shared apartment. But you can never be too sure with Soonyoung. Oh well, he already knows you won’t visit him in jail; just like he wouldn’t you. Your blood pact never said anything about prison, after all.

“This is stupid,” Minghao mutters, glancing over to where Seungcheol has a possessive arm around you in the lift of the hotel they’re staying in for the night— a much less fancy one than the meeting happened in. “You told her to leave, and now you’ve fucking glued yourself to her and lost a lucrative deal to defend her honour or some bullshit.”

“Did I ask for your opinion?” Seungcheol retorts, giving Minghao a look that his right-hand man just rolls his eyes at.

“Whatever; just don’t expect me to walk on eggshells around you anymore. You’re hurting yourself here and you know it.”

“I’m the one who’s going to get choked,” you point out, earning a disgusted look from Minghao. “What? I know you’re into choking, don’t look at me like that.”

“How do you know what he’s into?” Seungcheol asks, looking between you.

“How do you not know?” you scoff, looking at Seungcheol as if he’s the weird one.

“Because I’ve never had sex with him.”

“Neither have I.”

“Or watched him have sex.”

“I haven’t…okay once or twice…maybe thrice…” Your expression twists thoughtfully as you try to recall every instance where you’ve watched Minghao have sex, intentionally or not.

“What the fuck?!” Seungcheol glares at Minghao, who holds up his hands placatingly.

“She’s a voyeur and I’m an exhibitionist; it just made sense when it happened. She usually walked in anyway. You know she has no sense of personal boundaries and invites herself wherever the fuck she wants to go.”

“You should’ve stopped!”

“You never did,” you point out, and push away from the wall when the doors open and let the three of you enter the corridor. “You never stopped when I walked in on you.”

“That’s different.”

“How? Sex is sex.”

“Right.”

“And I’m leaving, quickly,” Minghao informs, and then all but runs down the hallway ahead of you two to get to his room.

Seungcheol doesn’t say anything until you’re both in his hotel room ensuite and he’s leaning back against the sink counter while you clean his split knuckles for him. “Is sex really just sex to you?”

“What else would it be?”

“It means nothing?”

“Is it supposed to?” You raise an eyebrow at him when you lift your head to meet his gaze. He’s got that sad puppy look again, the one that twists your heart painfully. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like…” You sigh and focus back on his hand. “Why did you kiss me, Seungcheol?”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you and I don’t want you to leave.”

“And that means choking and kissing me?”

“That’s what you want from me, right? Sex? Just meaningless fucking.”

“No.”

“Oh.” You don’t need to be looking at Seungcheol to know his expression has fallen further into depths that will drag painful claws across your pitiful little heart if you witness it. “You don’t want me anymore?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Then what are you saying? I don’t know how to fucking read you, you know? I need you to talk to me. Every time I try to have an honest fucking conversation with you about this, you just stare at me and break my heart without even saying a word; at least have the fucking balls to do it verbally this time.”

“I don’t want to hurt you. It hurts me too; seeing you with that fucking kicked puppy dog look.” You give up cleaning his hand and toss the blood stained cloth into the sink to step back with your hands on your hips. “And I don’t say anything because I don’t know what to say. I’m fucking…emotionally incompetent!”

“What?”

“I don’t know, that’s what Soonyoung called me when I explained all this to him.”

“Emotionally incompetent?” You nod. “Why did he call you that? I mean, he’s probably right, but he’s usually the first to defend you, so for him to call you that means you fucked up.”

“I hurt you, of course I fucked up.”

“Not returning my feelings doesn’t mean–”

“Cheol.” He immediately cuts off, eyes rounding out at the nickname you haven’t called him in so long. Granted, you haven’t seen him to call him anything in so long, but the point still stands. “When did I actually say I don’t have feelings for you?”

“You said we’re not even friends.”

“We’re not; we might’ve been at one point years ago but…I can’t think of you like that. You…” You sigh and drop your arms to your sides. “You mean too much to me. I don’t know how to put any of it into words, and I was too shocked that day at the warehouse to say anything. And then you got pissed off and threw shit at me, and I just didn’t know how to navigate that. It was a lot.”

“You didn’t even show your face after,” he pretty much whispers, hands gripping the counter either side of his hips to try and ground himself. It reminds you of the day in his kitchen, the last day you saw him; when he was holding the island so tightly to stop himself from reaching for you. “You could’ve come to me and explained, and then we could’ve…things would be different.”

“I thought giving you space would be best. I didn’t want to make you worse. I thought that space would help, but Hao found me and said you were denying my fucking existence and planning to fuck a mark, and obviously you weren’t any better with the space.”

“I was a fucking wreck. I can’t do this; I can’t not have you there turning up to make remarks about my thighs or ass or whatever. I need you there by my side, so come back, please.”

“Just like that? I come back and things go back to how they were?”

“No. You come back and we figure out what works for us.”

“Sex works great; that was good.”

He chuckles and nods a little in agreement. “It was, and I’d really fucking love to do that more; I’m sure you’ve probably got an endless list of fucked up shit you want to do to me.”

“Oh, hell yeah I do,” you confirm, eyes widening as you think of your endless fantasies involving the man in front of you. “How do you feel about taxidermy?”

“We’re not involving taxidermy into our sex life, no fucking way,” he replies firmly. “That’s a hard fucking no; you keep that in your freaky head.”

“Noted. What about anal?”

“You went from taxidermy to anal how exactly?”

“Stuffing.”

Seungcheol tries not to laugh but breaks into an amused smile and motions for you to get closer. “You’re seriously insane, aren’t you?”

“Yes, we discovered this years ago, Cheolie.”

“Mm.” He slides his hands onto your hips as he smiles at you in a soft kind of way that makes your heart race.

“Cheol?” He hums. “Is…I’m pretty sure I’ve been in love with you for years.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen in surprise before they soften back out, and he takes a gentle hold of your face and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your lips. “I love you too.”

“Oh, really?” He nods, and you grin happily at him. “That’s cool. We should get married or something.”

“Fucking hell, you can’t just spring that on me,” he groans, hiding his blushing face into your neck as his arms wind around your waist to hold you close.

“But we’re in love; we love each other, why should we wait?” You’re genuinely confused, and it makes him chuckle a little. “I’m serious, Cheol! Why should we wait to get married if that’s what’s going to happen anyway?”

“Alright, baby, let’s get married,” he agrees, straightening up and beaming at you so happily that you can’t help but smile back at him. “We’ll start arranging it as soon as we’re home, hm? But for now–”

“Sex, lots of sex,” you finish for him.

“I was going to say let’s sleep, but you’re right, who even needs sleep?” He hoists you up with a cheeky grin, while you giggle and wrap your arms and legs around him to make it easier for him to take you into the bedroom.

“You didn’t answer me about anal.”

“I don’t have anal lube, babe,” he chuckles, laying you down onto the bed and climbing between your thighs while removing his shirt.

“I don’t have a dildo or strap either,” you pout at the reminder.

“Wait, you meant my ass?”

“Yeah, I really want to fuck your ass; it’s made to be fucked.”

“Uh, I’ll consider it.”

“Okay.” You reach out to pull him back down and slot your lips together shortly. “Now, you owe me.”

“What, why?”

“You said you were going to fuck me until I can’t walk, and that never happened.”

“Because you let me think you don’t want me for more than just sex!”

“All I’m hearing is excuses and not enough action to put your cock in me.”

“Yeah, yeah, get naked.” He slaps your thigh a few times in encouragement while leaning back on his knees to unbuckle his belt. You make zero effort to move at all, except to prop yourself up on your elbows and watch intently as he slowly unfastens his belt. “Are you seriously just going to watch me strip?” he asks while teasingly dragging his fingers across the skin along the edge of his waistband with a cocky smirk once his belt is open.

“Dance for me, pretty boy.”

Seungcheol puts his hands on his hips and waits until you’ve dragged your gaze up from staring at the outline of his cock, over his bare torso, and to his face. He’s raising an eyebrow at you. “Did you just call me pretty boy?”

“Yes.”

“Fucking crazy,” he huffs a short laugh.

“Hey!” You lean up just enough to slap his thigh scoldingly, then sit up fully so that you can grope at his thighs with both hands— while he just watches with an amused, fond little smile at your utterly shameless actions. “You are pretty, my pretty boy.”

“Mm, I can accept that,” he agrees, holding your jaw with one hand firmly to tilt you up as he leans in to brush his lips over yours teasingly. “So long as I’m your pretty boy, I don’t mind being called that. So long as I’m yours, you can call me anything.”

“Okay, sugarplum.” You cackle at the world-weary sigh that Seungcheol lets out against your lips before he leans back to look at you unimpressed. “What’s the matter, pookie?”

“Why did you have to ruin the mood?”

“I ruined the mood?” You smirk and slide one hand up his thigh to grip his cock firmly, making him hiss through his teeth at the sudden, tight pressure. “Feels like you’re still in the mood to me, pretty boy.”

“I really must be insane.”

“We match well then, huh?”

“Mm.” He leans down to kiss you shortly. “Good thing we’re never having kids; they’d be sectioned before they reach adulthood.”

“Our house would be so fucking loud and chaotic, our neighbours would hate us.”

“They would,” he chuckles. “We’ll find somewhere new to live together once we’re married; away from noisy ass neighbours, and with a garden so I can fuck you outside and see how gorgeous you’ll look with the sun shining on you when you’re covered in my cum.”

“There’s a park down the road.”

“No,” he scoffs, and shoves you back to make you lay down before his hands move to roughly yank his belt free. “You’re mine, I’m not letting anyone else see you like that.”

“Even knowing they can look but not touch?”

“Maybe once I’ve covered you in marks and made up for the past five years of not being able to fuck you.”

“Sounds like a party.” You grin and then wiggle excitedly as he taps the folded middle of his leather belt against your inner thigh. “That’d leave pretty marks.”

“Mm, it would. You need to be naked for that though, baby.”

“You need to dance for me first,” you remind matter-of-factly before lacing your fingers together behind your head comfortably.

“You really want me to dance for you?”

“I’ve dreamed about you giving me a strip tease, don’t kill my boner, Cheolie.”

“You’re going to kill my boner if you keep saying shit like this.”

“Guess we need to invest in some gags.”

“Guess we do,” he murmurs, and licks his lips automatically at the thought of your lips stretched around a gag and drool running down your chin as you moan for him. “I’ll give you a strip tease another day; I need to fuck you too much right now.”

“Promise?”

“I promise, baby.”

“Okay.” You sit up and get to work, quickly stripping off your clothes, so Seungcheol climbs off of the bed to force his fitted trousers off his body along with his boxers.

When he kneels back on the bed naked, he finds you already laid there utterly nude with legs spread in wait for him to join you.

“How the fuck did you strip so fast?” he gawps, running his hands reverently over your thighs as he settles between them on his knees.

“Years of practise.”

“Stripping?”

“Had to be prepared for the day you give in to my seduction.”

“Well…good job.” He leans down over you, hands propping himself on the mattress so that he can kiss you.

“Thank you,” you preen, and run your hands up his sides to take the chance to touch as much of his strong torso as you can for the first time. You can’t fucking wait to spend the rest of your life touching him up. It’s going to be great. “Now, cock please.”

Seungcheol chokes on a short laugh at your words. “Good use of manners, sweetheart.”

“I thought so too. Definitely deserves a reward.”

“Mm.” He shuffles down a little, so that he can wrap his full lips around your left nipple and suck harshly, intent on starting his plan to cover you in hickies and handprints to mark his property.

“That’ll work,” you mutter, lacing fingers in his hair to encourage his mouth against your breast. “Not cock, but it’ll do for now.”

“Shut up,” he laughs against your skin.

“Make me.”

“Brat.”

“You like it.”

“I do,” he sighs before moving one hand over your chest and throat until he can press against your parted lips. There’s no resistance at all; your jaw drops enough to allow his middle and ring finger to slide into your mouth. “Good fucking girl,” Seungcheol praises in a low, rough voice as you instantly start to suck at his fingers, swirling your tongue around and between them with happy little moans.

Seungcheol keeps his mouth against your body, sucking and biting violent looking marks into your skin until he’s satisfied with his artwork. He moves down, dragging the fingers from your mouth as he does, smearing your own saliva in a trail all the way until he’s laid on his stomach between your thighs and attaching his mouth to your clit in the same moment he pushes those two wet fingers into you.

“Cheol,” you breathe out, pushing down against his fingers so that he doesn’t even dare think of waiting. He hums against your clit, making your thighs tighten momentarily, before he starts to work his fingers in rapid movements that make your eyes flutter, and fingers grip at him.

As your nails drag over his shoulder lightly, Seungcheol moans and arches up towards your hand, urging you on, encouraging you to grasp at him. Dig your nails in until he hisses and fucks his fingers into you harder and faster.

“H–how much can you take?” he asks, leaning up on his free hand, mouth and chin smeared with your arousal.

“Anything,” you promise, feeling as desperate as the wild darkness in his eyes tells you he feels.

Seungcheol nods and pulls his fingers from you as he moves up onto his knees. He doesn’t even ask you to move, just grabs you and manhandles you onto your front, chest against the mattress, and hips up just enough to give him a better angle to begin sliding his thick cock into you.

Maybe you hadn’t been quite as ready as you could’ve been. As you perhaps should’ve been. It’s been a while since you put anything but your fingers in your pussy for a quick session since moving away from the city. Living with your nosey ass best friend doesn’t give you the freedom to get your toys out; Soonyoung seems to have the uncanny ability of popping up and making a big deal out of it. Lots of screaming and acting like he’s been visually assaulted. You do the same to him. Your relationship is full of a lot of love and mutual, mature respect, clearly.

It’s a tight fit, and Seungcheol grips your hips tight as he painstakingly splits you open, with his mouth parted and eyebrows furrowed as if in pain. Not that you can see. Or have the mental capacity to do anything but grip the pillow and almost suffocate yourself in it with the way you press your open mouth against the material.

“Shit, you’re so fucking tight,” he pants when he stops before he’s even buried his entire length in you. “Baby, I don’t–I don’t know if this is a good idea, fuck.”

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you warn, turning your head to glare over your shoulder at him while reaching back to grab his ass and stop him from pulling out as he starts to.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Then I’ll do it,” you huff and push yourself up onto your hands. Admittedly shaky hands, but you’re too focused on your task to care. Too stubborn and desperate to get obliterated by his cock.

“Babe–”

“Shut the fuck up, Choi Seungcheol,” you demand, pushing yourself back harsh enough that he flails and drops down onto his haunches as he swears, hands still gripping you though. His mouth says one thing and his body another.

It’s a task getting your body upright until you’re on your knees, hands free to hold onto his forearm and thigh, but when you do, you only take a moment to stop the spinning of your mind before you start to bounce on his cock.

“Fuck,” he groans, spreading his thighs a little wider, and rolling his hips in time with your bouncing. He’s not thrusting, but his minute movements help to open you up a little more with every slap of your skin against his.

This position isn’t very practical for you, not with Seungcheol. Not when it makes his cock feel even bigger than it actually is, and your entire body trembles as it presses and drags against your walls in ways that feel like utter sin. You’re dripping all over him, ruining the bed, and you don’t even care. Neither does he.

“Your turn,” you murmur, falling still on his lap as you lean back against his chest to catch your breath at least a little, and give your burning thighs a break. It’s a lot more work to ride him like this than you expected. You’ll have to take up a new workout routine so that you can do it for longer next time. You’re determined.

Seungcheol takes the moment of calm stillness to brush his lips over your shoulder and let his hands explore over your chest and spread thighs.

One of his hands trails between your legs to feel at where your pussy is spread around his cock. He makes a low, pleased sound before abruptly rubbing quick, harsh circles over your clit. You shriek in surprise, body tensing at the sudden attack, and nails digging into the skin of his thighs under your own.

“You gotta cum first,” he informs, stopping his circles for only a second to bring his hand back then down, landing a firm slap to your clit, and making your body jerk as you moan brokenly. “That’s my dirty girl, fucking knew you’d like this,” his tone is nothing but aroused and approving as he slaps your clit again, while holding you in place with his other arm wrapped securely around your waist and his hand on your chest. “You’re gonna cum like this, understand?”

“Cheol–”

“I said, do you understand?” Another slap: this one harsher in a toe-curling way, before he drags his palm and fingers over your clit in a way that could be considered almost soothing if he wasn’t pressing as firmly as he is.

“Fuck, y–yeah. Don’t stop,” you agree, nodding where your head is tilted back against his shoulder. “But…”

“What?” You don’t answer verbally and instead grip his left wrist to pull his hand up from your chest and to your throat. “I fucking love you,” he declares, before squeezing your throat at the same time as he sucks on the side of your neck to create a new claim, his right hand moving to slap your clit in rapid succession.

It’s only a few seconds of the combination; the intense pleasure from all ministrations melding together and sending a sharp orgasm through your body. Your body moves naturally as if trying to fight it and get away as you gasp for air you can’t get yet. Your nails drag deep red marks over his skin, which only encourages him to fuck up into your convulsing walls.

“Good, good,” he breathes against your neck, and drops his palm from your throat back to your chest, both so that you can breathe clearly, and so that he can hold you to him. He doesn’t stop playing with your clit though, his hips humping up into you and barely moving his cock, but it’s still almost too much stimulation.

The first orgasm is barely even over before another rocks through your body.

This time, Seungcheol removes his hand from your clit, giving you some respite, and murmurs praise against your shoulder the entire time it takes you to come down from the combination of both climaxes.

“You okay?” he asks gently when you turn your head to blink your eyes open and peer at him. You hum and nod, giving him a dopey, sated smile that makes him laugh. “Can you take more?”

“Whatever you’ve got,” comes your confident response.

“That’s my girl,” he smirks, looking nothing but proud of you and your pussy for being able to handle his thick cock. You’d puff like a peacock if, you know, you weren’t human.

Seungcheol takes a moment to just kiss you, lips and tongue meeting languidly as best as you both can considering the angle. You personally think it works very well, and you’d give you both top marks.

And then, he pushes you down against the mattress, one hand on the back of your neck to keep your cheek smushed against the pillow, and his other hand holding your hip firmly to fuck into you in a brutal manner.

The headboard knocks harshly against the wall with every powerful stroke of his hips. The back of your thighs and ass are already starting to sting with the strength of his thrusts. His fingers bruise marks into your hip and neck as he hold you securely in place and forces you to just fucking take it.

And you’re in heaven.

If you weren’t in love with the man before, you sure as fuck are now.

Nobody has ever fucked you like this. Nobody has handled you so well in every way. And you just know with everything in you, that nobody else ever will. You’re definitely gonna marry the fuck out of Choi Seungcheol.

It doesn’t last much longer really; not that you can really blame Seungcheol considering he sat there and felt your pussy squeeze and cream over his cock twice already. And now he’s battering your walls so perfectly in a way that borders on painful in the most delicious of ways, so you’re squeezing him all over again in minutes, and almost screaming into the pillow as he forces another strong climax from your body.

You don’t even have the mental clarity to realise he’s stopped, his hips juddering against you as he cums as deep in you as possible with a string of low, rough moans with your name sprinkled in.

“Oh, fuck,” you grunt when he lowers your hips to the mattress without pulling out, just so that he can almost flatten you under his own body weight. You know he’s not entirely laid on you; you can feel the bulge of his biceps against your upper arms as he holds himself up just enough to not squish you.

“Shut up; you said you can take anything I give you,” he reminds in between pressing sweet, lingering kisses to your neck.

“Meant your giant cock, not giant ass.”

“You love my giant ass.”

“Mm. So, can I peg you?”

“Can’t we just enjoy the post-sex bliss without you ruining it?”

“No.” You wiggle your ass, making him groan, and then bite your shoulder in retaliation.

“Don’t get me hard again; I’ll pass out if we go again before I sleep.”

“That’s not a problem, unless you squish me, or go soft.”

“Are you implying you’d carry on fucking even if I pass out?”

“What? Because you wimp out, I have to suffer?” You scoff and then wiggle again. “Got a problem with me using your body when you’re unconscious?”

Seungcheol is silent for a moment in thought. “Just don’t stick anything in my ass.”

“Mm, I can accept that. I want you to be awake when I ruin you anyway.”

“I really don’t know what I’ve got myself into with you, do I?”

“Nope.” You grin over your shoulder at him. “You said you’ll marry me; you’re stuck with me forever.”

“I think I’m okay with that.” There’s a smile on his face as he moves off of you so that he can turn you enough to comfortably kiss you in a way that feels something like a promise.

A promise to be okay with your endless depravities. A promise to marry you as soon as possible and buy a house together. A promise to spend the rest of his life loving you; his utterly bat-shit crazy troublemaker.

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“Lee Seokmin?” you screech, looking at your phone screen, “they’re pairing me up with Lee Seokmin? Of all people, him?”

“Bad news?” your friend sets down a cup of iced coffee in front of you, “why has a work email got you making faces?”

You groan, pulling the saddest face you can, “they’re pairing me for the field training with Lee Seokmin.”

Your friend lets out an understanding sigh, patting you on the back, “how long is it for?”

“Three months,” you frown, “and the worst part is that it’s in Tokyo.”

“Tokyo, Japan?” This piece of information has her excited, “wait, I think I know Professor Ryusei at Tokyo University. If you want more information, you can always email him and ask for help. He’s one of the foremost authorities in Japan on Meiji-era legal doctrine—”

“Babe, I’m pretty sure he’s great, but this is not my concern right now,” You cut her off, “I need to coexist in the same space for the upcoming three months with Lee Seokmin of all people.”

She nods, and then looks at you, very seriously, “I can kill him for you.”

“Please do not threaten or conspire to murder anyone in my favorite cafe, please.” Lee Jihoon walks into your field of vision, one hand wielding a glass full of the most diabolical-looking iced americano you’ve ever seen, and balancing a plate of snacks in his other, “if you need to make plans, do make them in the privacy of your own home, where you don’t have a whole cafe full of people as your witnesses.”

“You’re very chill about this, Jihoon,” she points an accusatory finger towards the man, “but have you been on the receiving end of the force of nature called Lee Seokmin? I think not.”

Jihoon, as always, remains unruffled, only peering at her from behind his glasses, “who is Lee Seokmin?”

“Her mortal enemy,” your friend pipes up, placing a delicate kiss on the tip of Jihoon’s nose, “and this is why I keep telling you, you need to pay attention to what’s going on.”

You wrinkle your nose, “eugh. Please take your dumb lovey-dovey couple shit far away from me, please. Why subject your only single friend to a display of your romance when she’s been unable to get someone for the past seven years?”

Your friend nods, immediately detangling herself from her boyfriend, but Jihoon points an accusatory finger at her, “you need to start dating. Being single for too long has warped your views of how normal couples should be.”

“No fighting in the court,” your friend lightly smacks her phone on the table, imitating the noise of a gavel, “y/n, tell our wonderful Attorney Lee here exactly why you don’t like Lee Seokmin.”

You sigh. As wonderful and funny as your friends are, they inhabit a world of their own. “Can’t imagine it would be anything worse than what you both went through in law school,” you joke, “Lee Seokmin is my colleague. And he’s very annoying.”

“Why?” Jihoon raises both his eyebrows, “makes offensive jokes? Gets easily offended? Eat your lunch? Microwaves fish?”

“What? No—what kind of people are you working with, Jihoon?” you ask, and he shrugs, “there’s nothing like that. He’s just very—positive.”

“Positive.” Jihoon repeats, not believing you at first, “he’s positive.”

“Very,” your friend replies, “he’s a veritable ray of sunshine.”

“And you have a problem with him, because?”

“Because he’s weird!” you exclaim, “I’m not the most positive person, and he keeps doing things, which makes me think he’s either insane, or he’s got it out for me.”

“Wait, I’ve not heard about this,” your friend sits up, interested, “but first, does he make you uncomfortable?”

“No, not at all, he’s always kept very respectful boundaries,” you wave their concerns off (Jihoon was looking particularly menacing) “I just don’t think he’s all right in the head. I mean, can someone realistically be that happy all the time? Just like that? I doubt it.”

“Tell us more,” your friend is grinning, “before you go off to Tokyo and are forced into close proximity with this man for three months, we need to sort out what kind of a person he is.”

“Okay,”  you take a deep breath, “first, did you know, our desks are on opposite sides of the office, but every time he comes in for the morning, he greets me first? And my desk is not even close to the entryway! He just walks in, and it’s ‘good morning, y/n!’ with a cheery wave and a smile! Who does that?”

Your friend is taking notes, and Jihoon is sipping his coffee, “wow, he sounds like a monster.”

“He is,” you reply, pleased at the fact that Jihoon shares your confusion and annoyance, “and over the last three months, he’s started involving me in everything? Even if I don’t want to do it, he’s there, asking me to join in? Why would I do that?”

“Elaborate.”

“Okay so,” you think back to the moment, “when we all went for a company retreat, he made sure to include me in every single activity he was on. Cooking, cleaning, setting up the tents, he even dragged me into playing the games as his partner.”

“Playing the games as your partner?” Jihoon shares a look with your friend, “what else?”

“Well, he did bring me pain meds and massaged my back when I told him I’d pulled a muscle, so maybe he was just a little slow.”

“He massaged your back?” your friend has a look on her face that you’ve never really seen before, and you can bet fifty thousand won that Jihoon’s holding her hand under the table, “what else?”

“He brings me food every week. I told him I don’t have side dishes at home, so he just showed up in my neighbourhood with a big bag full of his mother’s side dishes. I don’t know how he got my address. I think he’s stalking me.”

Your friend looks close to tears. Jihoon looks like he’s struggling to hold on to the last of his composure, “typically, giving food is not a sign that he’s stalking you.”

“But he knew my address!” you retort, “how else would he know it, if he was not stalking me?”

“He was in your neighbourhood, not knocking on your house. And besides, you can get the location information pretty easily. All one has to do is pull the employee records.”

You are not one to be stopped, so you open your mouth again, “this is not all, did you know what he did last weekend?”

Your friend holds up a hand. “No wait, I think we’ve heard enough.” she wheezes out, wiping a tear, “how long have you made the poor man suffer?”

“Suffer?” you cock your head, “haven’t you heard? He’s making me suffer.”

“No, she’s right, pretty sure you’ve been making him suffer,” Jihoon is holding your friend’s hand on the table, knuckles white from how tight his grip is, “you did get a degree in psychology, didn’t you, y/n?”

“Huh?” now you’re offended, “of course I did. I set the two of you up, remember?”

“Yes, and we thank you for it,” your friend says, “I don’t know how else to say this, but—he likes you.”

The words roll about in your mind for a while, making no sense at all, “he does not like me. He just wants to annoy me and drive me crazy so that he can steal my seat in the office.”

Jihoon sighs, “yn, I’m telling you. I’m possibly the most oblivious man on the planet, and even I can see it. That man likes you so bad he gave you a massage. You’ve been torturing him.”

You look to your friend for support against Jihoon, but to your surprise, she nods, “only the most down bad of all people would lug their mom’s cooking to the flat—”

“Neighbourhood.”

“—neighbourhood, of a girl who has no interest in him.”

You sigh, “then what about the Tokyo Assignment?”

Jihoon snorts, “poor sod must have begged your supervisor on his knees in order to be paired up with you. They usually don’t send people of the opposite genders on field assignments together.”

This gives you pause, because some of his actions make sense now, if you apply their hypothesis, but the larger picture? That remains unclear, “I highly doubt he has any desire to—”

“y/n?” 

The three of you look up, and your friend’s face immediately breaks out into a sly grin. In front of you, Lee Seokmin stands, wearing a camel-coloured jacket that looks unfairly good on him, looking very puzzled, “am I intruding? I saw the three of you having coffee from outside, and I presumed—”

Before you can say anything, your friend opens her fat mouth, “Of course not, Mr Lee Seokmin, was it? You’re welcome to join us!”

“He is?” you ask. 

“I am?” Seokmin points a finger to himself, and Jihoon looks at his girlfriend. A wordless signal passes between the two, and he holds out his hands for a shake. 

“Lee Jihoon, Attorney at Oh and Partners,” Jihoon grins, “me and my girlfriend were just leaving.”

Seokmin looks at your friend, puzzled. 

“I’m the girlfriend,” your friend laughs, holding out her hand for Seokmin to shake, “I teach Constitutional  Law at Hankuk. Pleasure to meet you.”

“We were leaving, sweetheart,” Jihoon winks at her, one that does not go unnoticed by you, “see you later, y/n.”

“Wait, hold on—” you open your mouth to protest, but before the whole sentence gets out of your mouth, the two of them are gone, giggling and laughing in the cold. It leaves you and Seokmin standing in the middle of the crowded cafe, a cafe latte held in his hand, secure in a to-go cup. 

Suddenly, you feel awkward. It’s nothing new, because Seokmin, with his boundless energy and infectious good humour, has made you awkward on other occasions too, but this time it’s something else. The words of the two idiots keep replaying in your mind, he likes you, you know. It’s probably nothing, but the way Seokmin is looking at you, it makes you feel self-conscious. 

“Should we go out?” he asks, “the cafe is kinda crowded.”

“Sure!” you yelp, “let’s uh, let’s go out.”

The streets are cold. Sure, Christmas is only a few days away, but the cold has been unbearable these past few days, and you shove your hands in your jacket in an effort to keep them warm. Seokmin notices, and he practically shoves the coffee cup in your hand, “I don’t have a handwarmer,” he shrugs, “you can hold it as long as it’s warm.”

“Right. Thank you.” you nod, falling into step beside him, “those two—”

“Right, yeah, they were your friends?” Seokmin looks interested, “they’re in law, right?”

“We were part of the same university club,” you clarify, “photography club.”

“Then they went on to go to law school.”

“Yeah,” you grin, “Jihoon became an attorney. She went into academia.”

“I see,” he smiles, “they seem like wonderful people.”

“They are,” you agree, “very funny, too.”

“Right.” the two of you fall silent, walking along the road, until Seokmin opens his mouth, “so, you got the field training assignment?”

“Yeah,” you reply, then decide to try out a hypothesis, “did you ask Seungcheol to pair us up?”

Seokmin immediately goes red in the face. You see it, ten other people see it too, “why would you do that?”

“I mean,” he trips over his words, “I wanted to do the field assignment with you.”

“That doesn’t make any sense, Lee Seokmin,” you start walking towards a side alley that serves as a shortcut to your house, “last week, you came to my house to give me your mother’s side dishes.”

“I did,” Seokmin hangs his head. 

“And before that, you kept making excuses to include me in things, or to be near me,” you muse, walking along the alleyway, “I told my friends, and they told me there was only one reasonable hypothesis.”

“One reasonable hypothesis?” Seokmin squeaks, “what is it?”

“That you are—”

“You’re right!” Seokmin shouts, scaring off three birds and a cat, “you’re right.”

You stare at him, “so, you’re stalking me?”

You think about it for a second, and in that interval, Seokmin crosses the distance between the two of you, grabbing hold of your hands, “yeah, yn. Your friends are right.”

He blinks, “what? No. I'm not stalking you."

"So, you mean to say, my friends are right?”

“So, you like me?” you raise your eyebrows, “that’s a very strange way of expressing it.”

Seokmin groans, “I know. I kept thinking that you weren’t interested, and that I had no chance.”

“Did you ask Seungcheol for a favour?”

He looks mighty ashamed, “I begged him on my knees, actually. To let me be your partner.”

“I see.”

Seokmin looks at you from under those stupidly long eyelashes, and the only thought in your mind is how unfair. Seokmin’s entire existence is unfair; he gets to be cool and funny and personable without trying, and you have to be the agony aunt of the office who doesn’t smile at all. His attention is flattering and fascinating, you think, to have someone as brilliant as Seokmin be interested in me, would be wonderful. 

But do you like him? Are you interested?

You hold his gaze as you think about it. You think about Lee Seokmin, golden and brilliant and perfect, and his place in your life. He would be wonderful, you realise. He would slot easily into your life, make a place for himself in your little circle. He’d get along with Jihoon and talk about books with your friend, and you can see yourself waking up next to him, the sun golden on his eyelashes, golden and so, so brilliant.

Before you can stop yourself, you reach and plant a small kiss on his cheek. Seokmin looks like someone has slapped him across the face, and it makes you laugh, “be my date for christmas, Lee Seokmin.”

He stands there for a whole ten seconds while you walk away, and then blurts out a “huh?” before running to you, “you’re sure?”

Here you were once again at one of Bust a Move’s showcases, your three friends with you for moral support (and maybe to see if this whole plan would work or not). This time was different though, you wouldn’t be embarrassed by Soonyoung this time. This time he would most likely be embarrassed by you and that all started with the fact that you were in the middle of the auditorium wearing a tiger onesie. While Soonyoung had many fans, none had ever gone that far when dressing up. Some had worn tiger ear headbands but never had they dressed up in an entire tiger outfit. 

You had prepared a large poster as well with the help of Seungkwan, hoping the phrase written in big, bold letters and decorations around it would jog something in Soonyoung’s memory. The end of the show was nearing and if he had noticed you, he showed no indication that he had. They did their last performance and still nothing. Desperate for him to notice, you waited for a quiet moment before they started their ending speeches. 

You brought the poster higher above your head and screamed the very phrase written on it. “Soonyoung, I horanghae you!” All three of your friends looked at you like you were insane. The old you, the one in complete denial would have never done something like that. While you gained your friends' notice and most of the crowd, Soonyoung didn’t even bat an eye.

A few minutes after the showcase ended, you left your friends in the auditorium with a growl and a “don’t wait for me.” You rushed down the aisle and made your way into the wing behind the stage. You burst into the backstage greenroom, looking annoyed and determined. How dare he act like he hadn’t noticed?  Minghao noticed your expression and elbowed Chan. “Chan and I, uh have something to do. Bye!” he lied and they quickly escaped, leaving you and Soonyoung alone in the room.

“Soonyoung, did you really not notice your best friend dressed up as a tiger? And the poster?” you all but screeched. You knew you had said you were going to prove your feelings for him and that you weren’t going to give up, but now you were starting to reach the end of your rope. You were aware that he must have felt this way too but your vexation was overtaking that knowledge. 

Soonyoung sighed, pulling at his hair before saying, “I noticed.”

You rolled your eyes, irritation continuing to rise. “And?” you asked sharply with a stomp of your foot.

“I didn’t think you would remember our inside joke from camp all those years ago,” he responded, quietly.

Your annoyance started to dissipate just as quickly as it had appeared. You crossed the small room and sat in a chair next to the one Soonyoung was sitting in. “Of course, I remembered it. I would never forget something from that summer. We became best friends that summer, despite how annoying I pretended you were,” you said and Soonyoung couldn’t help his lips turning up into a smirk at your words. “I think that’s when I actually fell for you, I just didn’t realize it and then I spent so much time denying it that I convinced myself that I really didn’t feel that way. I mean, who really ends up with the person they liked when they were 12? Sorry, I’m rambling but…Soonyoung, I horanghae you!” you cringed at that last bit, hoping he would understand your true meaning. 

“I horanghae you too, Y/N,” he responded and you knew he didn’t get it.

“No, Soonyoung. I horanghae you,” you repeated with emphasis. 

He was silent for a few seconds before he closed the space between you completely, his lips covering yours in a kiss. You kissed him back, embracing all the feelings you had been holding back for all these years, and the ones that you had set out to prove to him when you spoke in the studio a few weeks ago. 

Not only did you mean those three important words with that phrase, but you also hoped he understood that you would always be and had always been best friends first. However, there was space to be more, to be both.

“I love you too,” Soonyoung said with a grin when you two finally parted. Finally. Your determination had succeeded. Your face brightened to match his. 

“I promise, I’ll continue to prove my feelings for you every day,” you declared.

“Every day?” 

“Every day,” 

He let himself fall forward again to rest his forehead against yours and said, “Deal.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE | MASTERLIST | CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE (END)

A/N: FINALLY!!! can you believe we just have next week's chapter and we are finished! 😛

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Days turned into weeks, and my secret crush on Vernon continued to blossom like an office plant thriving on coffee spills and forgotten snack crumbs. Seungkwan, my ever-curious accomplice, kept pushing me to confess my feelings.

One afternoon, as I reached for a printer jam, Vernon appeared beside me. "Need a hand, Y/N?" he asked with that disarming smile.

"N-no, I'm good," I stammered, my fingers fumbling with the paper tray. Smooth, Y/N. Real smooth.

Seungkwan, sensing the tension, waltzed in. "Vernon, have you tried Y/N's favourite stress relief technique? It's called 'awkward small talk.'"

I shot Seungkwan an annoyed look, but Vernon chuckled. "Actually, I'm quite the expert in that field."

As the days went by, Vernon and I continued our friendly banter, oblivious to the silent romantic tension building up. One day, Mingyu, the office heartthrob, decided to play cupid.

"Seungcheol is throwing a little office gathering this Friday. You should come, Y/N," he suggested, a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Seungkwan, overhearing the conversation, grinned at me. "A little birdie told me Vernon might be there."

I rolled my eyes, "I'm not going for Vernon; I'm going for the free snacks."

Friday arrived, and the office was transformed into a makeshift party zone. Soonyoung and Chan, the resident party planners, had outdone themselves. The atmosphere was lively, and mingling was the order of the night.

As I casually hovered near the snack table (as promised), Vernon sidled up. "Hey, Y/N, mind if I join you?"

My heart raced, and my well-rehearsed response escaped me. Seungkwan, ever the opportunist, popped up from behind a potted plant. "This is your chance, Y/N!"

I shot him a death glare, but before I could say anything, Minghao, our boss, took the stage for an impromptu karaoke session. The crowd roared with laughter as Minghao belted out a surprisingly good rendition of a popular song.

Seungcheol, Jeonghan, and Joshua joined the makeshift karaoke stage, turning the office gathering into an unexpected talent show. Amidst the chaos, Vernon leaned in, his voice barely audible over the laughter.

"Y/N, do you mind if I steal you away from the snack table for a moment?"

My heart skipped a beat as we slipped away from the cacophony of mingling coworkers. Little did I know; this office gathering was about to take an unexpected turn.

Away from the karaoke chaos, Vernon and I found ourselves on the office rooftop, a hidden sanctuary above the hustle and bustle of the party below.

"So, Y/N," Vernon began, leaning against the rooftop railing, "what's the verdict on Seungcheol’s karaoke skills?"

I chuckled, grateful for the brief escape from the office madness. "Surprisingly good! Who knew our boss had hidden talents?"

Vernon grinned, his eyes meeting mine. "Speaking of hidden talents, have you discovered any exciting stress-relief techniques lately?"

My cheeks flushed, and I laughed nervously. "Well, there's this one where you, um, take a deep breath and... forget about stress for a while?"

Vernon raised an eyebrow, "Sounds intriguing. Mind showing me?"

As I attempted to demonstrate the 'forget about stress' technique, our hands accidentally brushed against each other. A jolt of electricity shot through me, and I couldn't help but feel that maybe Mingyu's party suggestion wasn't all about the snacks.

Just as the moment was getting more intimate, Seungkwan's voice echoed through the rooftop door. "Y/N, Vernon, you won't believe what Seokmin is attempting on that karaoke stage!"

We exchanged an amused glance and headed back to the party, the rooftop escape lingering in the air like an unspoken secret.

Days turned into weeks, and the office dynamic shifted. Vernon and I found ourselves collaborating more often, whether it was on projects or sneaking away for a coffee break. The once-careful balance between professionalism and unspoken feelings began to blur.

One day, as I was drowning in a sea of spreadsheets, Vernon appeared at my desk with a cup of coffee. "Thought you could use a break, Y/N."

I smiled, touched by the gesture. "Thanks, Vernon. You always know when to save me from spreadsheet-induced insanity."

Vernon chuckled, "Just doing my superhero duty."

As he walked away, Seungkwan, ever the observant friend, nudged me. "Y/N, if Vernon's your superhero, maybe it's time to let him rescue more than just your sanity."

I sighed, realizing that maybe it was time to acknowledge the switch in my feelings. Little did I know; the office drama was far from over.

Embracing the subtle shift in dynamics, I decided to take Seungkwan's advice and let Vernon in a little more. As days passed, we found ourselves sharing stories, inside jokes, and even embarking on a few collaborative projects that had nothing to do with work.

One day, as we navigated a particularly tricky task, Vernon flashed that signature grin. "Y/N, who knew work could actually be fun?"

I smirked, "Well, considering you've turned our office into a circus more than once, I'd say fun is your specialty."

Vernon chuckled, and for a moment, our eyes locked. The unspoken tension between us was palpable, and I couldn't help but wonder if this was the moment to address the elephant in the room.

However, fate had different plans. Mingyu, the office charmer, decided to play cupid once again. "Guess what, lovebirds? There's a team-building retreat this weekend. You two should totally go together!"

I shot Mingyu a glare, but Vernon seemed unfazed. "A team-building retreat, huh? Sounds like a great opportunity to strengthen our professional synergy."

Seungkwan, who overheard the conversation, nudged me with a sly grin. "Looks like Mingyu's doing your job for you."

The weekend retreat was a mix of team-building exercises, trust falls, and awkward icebreakers. Vernon and I navigated through it all, trying to maintain our professional front. However, as the evening bonfire flickered to life, the atmosphere changed.

Under the starlit sky, surrounded by the laughter of colleagues, Vernon and I found ourselves drawn to the warmth of the flames. It was then that Mingyu, ever the matchmaker, suggested a round of sharing secrets around the fire.

Seated next to each other, Vernon and I exchanged hesitant glances. "I'll start," Mingyu declared. "I once accidentally sent a love letter to the office printer."

The group erupted in laughter, and the ice was broken. Colleagues shared embarrassing stories, dreams, and even fears. As the circle neared us, Vernon looked at me, his eyes reflecting a hidden vulnerability.

"I've got a secret," he began, "I'm not as carefree as I seem. There's more to me than meets the eye."

The sincerity in his voice struck a chord, and I felt a surge of courage. "I've got a secret too," I admitted, my gaze locked with Vernon's. "I never thought I'd find someone who could make me question my to-do lists and deadlines. Until now."

A hush fell over the group, and Mingyu, grinning like the ultimate cupid, whispered, "Looks like we've got a love confession in the making."

Vernon's eyes widened, and a smile played on his lips. The unspoken tension finally surfaced, and in that moment, surrounded by colleagues, deadlines, and the warmth of the bonfire, our secret crushes were no longer a secret.

The confession around the bonfire sparked a change in our dynamic. Colleagues became enthusiastic cheerleaders, and our interactions took on a newfound sweetness. The retreat ended with a subtle shift, leaving us on the brink of exploring a different facet of our relationship.

Back at the office, the atmosphere buzzed with playful teasing and knowing glances from our colleagues. Seungcheol, our boss, couldn't help but join in on the newfound workplace romance banter.

"Looks like we've got our very own office love story," he quipped during a team meeting, causing everyone to burst into laughter.

Vernon, ever the cool customer, took it in stride. "Guess we're the talk of the office now."

Seungkwan, who had become our unofficial relationship coach, couldn't resist chiming in. "Don't worry, you two. I've got a list of rom-coms we can use as a guide. First on the list, 'Office Love: A Spreadsheet Affair.'"

I rolled my eyes, "I think we can figure this out without consulting Hollywood."

As days turned into weeks, Vernon and I continued to explore the romance budding between us. The office dynamic remained lighthearted, with playful banter and camaraderie. Our desks, once separate islands in the sea of cubicles, were now like neighbouring countries, sharing secrets and stolen glances.

One day, as we worked on a project together, Mingyu sauntered over with a mischievous grin. "You know, there's a team-building workshop next month. More trust falls, more icebreakers. You guys up for it?"

Vernon and I exchanged a knowing glance, and he chuckled. "Why not? We've survived worse."

The workshop became another chapter in our evolving story. Trust falls turned into shared laughter, icebreakers transformed into inside jokes, and by the end of it, the unspoken romance had solidified into something more tangible.

As we navigated the workplace romance waters, our colleagues became our biggest cheerleaders. Soonyoung and Chan, known for their playful antics, organized a surprise 'office engagement' celebration, complete with streamers and confetti.

Vernon and I shared a glance, realising that our love story had taken a turn neither of us anticipated. Amidst the laughter and playful celebrations, the office had transformed into a haven of love and camaraderie.

In the midst of it all, Seungkwan, the unsung hero of our love story, grinned. "Who knew a stress ball circus could lead to all this?"

As the celebration continued, I couldn't help but marvel at the unexpected journey from unrequited feelings to a full-blown office romance. Little did I know, our story was far from ordinary, and the chapters that awaited us were bound to be filled with laughter, love, and the occasional office-related shenanigans.

And so, our office love story continued, each day bringing new adventures and discoveries, proving that sometimes, the best stories are the ones we never saw coming.

The end.

BONUS

Amidst the lovey-dovey glow of our budding romance, the office continued to be a hotbed of humor and shenanigans. Soonyoung and Chan, the dynamic duo of mischief, were determined to ensure our love story had its fair share of comedic moments.

One day, as Vernon and I were engrossed in a serious discussion about a project, Soonyoung burst into the room, wearing an oversized cupid costume complete with wings and heart-shaped arrows.

"Lovebirds! Cupid is here to spread the love!" he declared dramatically, shooting imaginary arrows in our direction.

Vernon burst into laughter, "Soonyoung, did you steal that from a costume shop?"

Soonyoung winked, "Let's just say they were happy to contribute to the office romance fund."

As cupid Soonyoung made his dramatic exit, Seungkwan appeared, holding a boombox blaring romantic ballads. "Cue the romantic background music, because love is in the air!"

I couldn't help but shake my head, "Are you all on a mission to turn our love story into a rom-com?"

Seungkwan grinned, "Of course! Every great love story needs a touch of drama and a splash of comedy."

The office antics continued, from surprise romantic dinners (courtesy of Mingyu's questionable cooking skills) to impromptu karaoke sessions led by Seungcheol. Each day brought a new twist, and our colleagues reveled in turning our office romance into a daily dose of entertainment.

One day, as Vernon and I enjoyed a quiet lunch in the office breakroom, Mingyu approached with a sly smile. "I've organised a team-building scavenger hunt. You two are partners, of course."

Vernon raised an eyebrow, "A scavenger hunt? Is this another attempt to set us up with more office romance drama?"

Mingyu winked, "Consider it a test of your teamwork skills."

And so, armed with a list of bizarre items to find around the office, Vernon and I embarked on the scavenger hunt. Little did we know; the items on the list were carefully curated for maximum comedic effect.

From finding the boss's favourite mug to retrieving Mingyu's missing pen, the scavenger hunt led us on a wild goose chase through the office, with our colleagues cheering us on and occasionally throwing in unexpected challenges.

As we raced against the clock, laughter echoed through the corridors. The scavenger hunt not only tested our teamwork but also became a hilarious adventure that further cemented the lighthearted spirit of our office romance.

In the end, we returned triumphant, armed with the requested items and a bag full of new inside jokes. Mingyu, grinning from ear to ear, declared, "Teamwork makes the dream work, especially in love!"

Our colleagues erupted in cheers, and as we caught our breaths, I couldn't help but appreciate the unexpected bonus of laughter and camaraderie that came with our office romance.

And so, amidst the office shenanigans and comedic chaos, Vernon and I embraced the joyous journey of love, proving that sometimes, a touch of humour is the perfect seasoning for a budding romance.

The real bonus, it seemed, wasn't just the love story but the incredible cast of characters who made our office romance an unforgettable and laughter-filled adventure.

ONE MORE BONUS

In the midst of our blossoming office romance, fate decided to throw a comical twist our way. Chan, the youngest member of our close-knit work family, found himself unintentionally at the epicenter of a lighthearted office drama.

As Vernon and I sought a moment of solitude for a stolen kiss, little did we know that Chan, armed with his characteristic youthful enthusiasm and penchant for timing, happened to be passing by. A sharp gasp from him caught our attention, and we quickly pulled away, glancing at each other with a mix of embarrassment and surprise.

The mischievous gleam in Chan's eyes hinted at trouble. "Caught you two in the act," he declared, brandishing his smartphone.

Seungkwan, never one to miss an opportunity for teasing, chimed in, "Looks like our baby Chan here just became the official office spy."

Chan, visibly annoyed but also reveling in the attention, shot back, "I am not a baby, and I was just passing by!"

Jeonghan, in his usual sarcastic tone, crossed his arms and looked at Chan with faux anger. "Oh, Chan, our innocent little baby. What have they done to you? You've been tainted by their lovey-dovey vibes."

Chan, with an eye roll, muttered, "I am not innocent, and I am certainly not a baby. Stop calling me that!"

Jeonghan continued in mock frustration, "Well, I hope you're happy now, Y/N and Vernon. You've officially corrupted our 'baby' Chan. Congratulations."

Chan, now slightly exasperated, grumbled, "I'm not corrupted, and I'm not your baby!"

The playful banter continued, with colleagues suggesting that Chan should be the official office witness for romantic moments. Mingyu, always ready for a bit of mischief, proposed a weekly "Chan's Chronicles" during team meetings, where Chan would share his accidental discoveries.

As the teasing persisted, Chan, despite his irritation, couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. "Fine, fine, make fun of me. But I'm not a baby, and I definitely didn't ask to witness their love drama."

And so, amidst the laughter and camaraderie, the unexpected witnessing by our 'baby' Chan became a quirky tale in our office romance saga. Chan, despite his protests, inadvertently added a touch of humour to our love story.

Which, well, is kind of accurate, because it’s Hansol’s dad’s coat. Chan had fallen in a mud patch last night when the pair stumbled back after a night out drinking with their friends, and Hansol’s parents have always treated Chan like a second son and happily dote on him, so lending him a clean, cosy coat wasn’t even debated.

But the point is, it’s the middle of winter, Chan is fucking freezing, and Hansol has made him join him in the field to meet the new vet, who will apparently be overseeing the ewes through lambing season— not that Chan knows what that means. And Chan has no interest in this, but Hansol is persuasive in the way he stares without blinking until his opponent relents, and it freaks the fuck out of Chan, so he always relents.

“Are you sure I can’t curl up in the middle of them? They look so warm,” Chan bemoans, looking longingly at the huddle of sheep a little bit away from them, practically able to see steam rising from their fluffy bodies in the chilly air.

“Very positive that you cannot curl up amongst pregnant ewes, Chan,” Hansol confirms flatly, eyes on the near distance where a car is driving along the dirt tracks of the Choi farm towards the field they’re standing at the edge of.

“Ewe means lady sheep, right?” Chan checks, and Hansol gives him a flat look in response, before snorting a laugh, then looks away. “What?”

“Would I say they’re pregnant if they were gentlemen sheep?”

“I…I think I’m too hungover.”

“Nah, you’re always a dumbass,” Hansol retorts teasingly, then pushes off of the fence to approach one of the farm dogs who has something in his mouth that Hansol needs to chase him for the next few minutes to get out— turns out, it was a lump of mud; at least, Chan hopes it was mud.

“Hey, you’re new,” the voice behind Chan makes him turn, and instantly, his expression slides into something awed, because standing a little on the other side of the fence is the most beautiful being he’s ever laid eyes on. In response, Chan lets out something that sounds vaguely like something died painfully in his throat.

“Hey, doc!” Hansol calls out, and Chan watches entranced as this ethereal entity before him waves back with a smile that makes Chan suddenly love the farm.

“I think your new farm boy isn’t awake yet,” you muse as you approach to lean on the fence a little to Chan’s left, and he turns towards you like a flower to the sun. Or a suddenly-in-love man towards the woman of his dreams.

“No farm boy, he hates the farm, but he’s my best friend so he doesn’t have a choice,” Hansol informs with a grin.

“I love farm. Love sheep. Lady sheep. Ewes,” Chan babbles, wide eyes glued to you. You give him a look, a little concerned, but mostly amused, then slide your eyes to Hansol, and give the farmer a questioning look.

“Yeah, we don’t know what’s wrong with him either.”

“Sheep,” Chan whispers, and you give him a look, giggle— and he maybe lets out a little almost pained whimper in response—, before you effortlessly clamber over the fence to join Hansol in approaching the sheep.

Chan, of course, waddles around in a circle as you pass him so that he can keep his attention on you. He has no idea what you’re doing as you kneel beside the first pregnant lady sheep— ewe— with your bag of equipment to do…stuff, but he thinks it’s probably the most important and skilful thing ever, and nobody can ever do it better than you.

Suddenly, Chan doesn’t feel the cold, not when your smile and soft tone as you speak to the sheep warms him up from his very soul. Chan’s pretty convinced he could be standing there butt naked and feel warm under your smile. Then, he thinks that you’d probably not be smiling if a stranger was standing in front of you naked in a field of sheep in the middle of winter. He also thinks he wouldn’t be smiling as he imagines the sheep trying to nibble on something else instead of the coat protecting him from the cold, and he shudders at the thought, winces, and subconsciously puts his hands over his crotch.

“Dude, you better not be getting hard because a pretty lady smiled at you,” Hansol’s voice suddenly warns in a hiss in Chan’s ear, making him jump and look at his best friend in shock, having not noticed him approach.

“Do sheep bite genitals?” Chan whispers, horrified at the thought. Hansol gives him an incredulous look, before walking confidently back over to you in a way that Chan wishes he could, but he knows the damn coat makes him waddle like a particularly plump penguin. He doesn’t want you to think of him as a particularly plump penguin, he doesn’t want you to think of him as a penguin at all, plump or buff. He wants you to think of him as a handsome, suave young man who you would happily take home to introduce to your parents as your handsome, suave husband. Okay, boyfriend first, husband later.

Far too soon— at least in Chan’s mind—, you get up, shoulder your bag, and walk side by side with Hansol towards the gate a little further down the fence. Before he knows it, you’re getting into your Jeep— at least, Chan assumes it’s a Jeep, he doesn’t know anything about cars, nor is he paying enough attention to anything but you to notice the brand name—, sharing another laugh and quick verbal exchange with Hansol, giving Chan a polite wave, and then driving off. Chan lifts his arm so fast that he smacks himself in the face, but you’re already gone because he was too stunned by your sudden attention on him to even register it until it was over. He’s kind of glad of that because it means you didn’t see his embarrassing action.

Unfortunately, Hansol saw, and he’s leaning over with his hands on his knees as he wheezes with laughter. “Dude!” he cackles. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?” he asks, barely able to straighten up to look at his best friend as he continue to laugh so hard Chan thinks he might start choking any second.

“Nothing. I’m normal. Totally normal about everything and everyone I’ve seen today,” Chan replies before abruptly crossing the grass between them to grab Hansol’s face and lock his wide, unsettling gaze on the suddenly no longer laughing man. “How do I become a vet assistant? Specifically hers?”

Hansol pulls a face, then laughs again and nudges Chan away. “You’re hopeless, man.”

“I’d be a good vet’s assistant to her! I’d do anything she asks!”

“Pretty sure that’s called being a simp.”

“Well…if it works.”

“I can’t believe you’re obsessed with someone you didn’t say a coherent sentence to,” Hansol deadpans as he heads out of the field, and Chan scrambles to follow— making sure to shut the gate securely behind them and the dogs, he’s not entirely useless with farm stuff, you know.

“Shit, you’re right,” Chan mutters. Hansol looks at him as if he expects Chan to chill out and be normal about you, at least he does until the shorter man opens his mouth again. “Do you think if I hide for a couple months and you pretend I don’t exist and she imagined me today, that she’ll forget about me and I can come back and start fresh?”

“Dude, no!” He even shoves his friend into a bush for added effect; it works, Chan gets the point.

“Okay, no gaslighting, you’re right,” Chan concedes as he pulls himself out of the bush as if nothing happened. “I could never keep away from my future wife from that long anyway, and I definitely don’t want her to forget about me.”

“You don’t even know her name.”

That gives Chan pause, quite literally. He stops on the grass and Hansol continues on obliviously towards the house. Or more likely, Hansol knows that his best friend is no longer actively following him and is enjoying the moment of calm while he has it.

It’s a few minutes before Chan has caught up with Hansol where he’s waiting on the back porch, dogs all shuffling around his feet and the door as they wait to be let back inside. But Hansol knows his mother hates the winter air and feels it so much easier than most people, so he doesn’t want the door to open more than necessary so that there’s less cold being let in to attack his mother.

“What’s her name?” Chan asks as soon as he’s clambered up the few wooden steps. Hansol just rolls his eyes, and now finally opens the door to let the dogs dart in first, then follows with Chan at the back. Automatically, once the door is shut, Chan nudges the draft excluder back into place along the bottom of it, also aware of Hansol’s mother’s weakness for the chill, and not wanting to make his pseudo-mother face it without reason.  

The pair are removing their shoes when the woman herself shuffles into the entrance hall. “How’re the ewes?” she checks. Hansol just gives a thumbs up, but that’s all she needs anyway. “Oh, Channie, what happened to you?” She frowns as she frets over the leaves and tiny twigs in his hair and dotted over the long coat.

“Sol pushed me into a bush,” Chan answers, then grins smugly when Hansol’s mother turns to scold her son, who glares harmlessly at his best friend before toddling off to the kitchen, drawn in by the scent of fresh, spicy food sure to warm him up. “Hey, you know the new vet?” Chan checks as the woman helps him out of the coat, picking off the bush debris as she goes.

“Mm, she’s lovely, isn’t she?”

“The loveliest,” Chan enthuses, head bobbing with his thorough agreement, and the woman smiles at him in an amused, knowing way that Chan doesn’t even notice. “I didn’t catch her name.”

“Oh, no?” She grins, hanging up the coat before turning and following her son’s path into the kitchen. Chan follows her little a lost little duckling. “You didn’t catch the good doctor’s name, love?”

“No,” Chan complains, dropping into his usual space at the breakfast table with a pout. “Will you tell it to me? Sol’s being a butthead.”

“You’re 25 years old and you just said butthead,” Hansol’s father comments from his own place. “Call him an asshole, Chan, go on.” Which earns the man a light slap to the back of his head from his wife, but he’s grinning, and Hansol is grinning, and Chan can’t help but join in.

“Don’t encourage bad habits, mister!” the woman exclaims.

“Ah, but you used to love my bad habits, my beautiful wife,” he coos, hooking one arm around her waist as she passes, to pull her in while giving her a sleazy look.

“Seriously, dad?” Hansol complains. “I’m trying to eat, don’t bring up your youth together, it’s gross.”

“Excuse you! We were hot shit in our youth, even hotter together!”

“Disgusting,” Hansol comments, not even pretending that he’s not grinning amusedly, before he puts a spoonful of warming, spicy soup into his mouth, makes a pleased sound, then tuckers in, closing out the rest of the world around him.

Having known Hansol for his entire life, the three know he will be a useless conversationalist until he’s finished his bowlful— and probably a second, maybe even third— and naturally turn away from him to continue talking without him.

“I’ve seen photos of you both when you were young,” Chan comments, nodding along. “I think you were both hot shit for sure.”

“Thank you, Chan,” Hansol’s father replies, and reaches over to approvingly pat Chan’s arm. “Knew we kept you around for a reason.”

“You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” Chan grins, then abruptly turns serious. “But seeing as you both love me so much and consider me your baby boy—”

“We do?”

“Yes, dad,” Chan confirms, and the couple just smile, amused and fond of their pseudo-son and his weird, shameless personality.

“Okay, son, what of it?”

“You’ll tell me the name of the new vet, right?”

The couple share a look before Hansol’s dad nods and tells Chan your full name. Immediately, Chan lets out a dreamy sigh and props his head on his palm, elbow already braced on the table. He thinks it’s the most perfect name to have ever existed, and he can’t wait to spend the rest of his life saying it.

It’s a week before Chan sees you again, purely because every time he’s tried to oh so casually enter the vets and cross paths with you, he quickly realises that you’re out at another farm being competent and beautiful where he can’t admire you; a great shame, really.

Still, he’s persistent and has far too much time on his hands outside of his own working hours, so he keeps trying until he peers in through the glass wall at the front of the building, and spots you standing on the other side of the reception desk, looking at a file.

Without hesitation, Chan quickly scuttles to the door and enters the building, doing his best to be cool and confident. And it works, he genuinely looks very suave and put together, at least until you lift your head upon hearing someone approach, and he almost trips on his own foot the moment your eyes meet his.

He’s too busy flailing his arms out to catch himself on the desk and straighten up to notice the way you smile in amusement and something that looks an awful lot like you think he’s cute in his foolishness.

“Good evening, how can I help you?” you greet, leaning onto the high desk on your elbows only a few feet from Chan.

He squeaks when he realises how close you are, and jumps back, hands rapidly straightening out his coat— his own this time, and actually suited to his body, not drowning him. “Hi–hi.”

“Hi.” You grin.

“I uhm, I’m Chan!”

“Mm, I know; we met at the Choi farm last week. Hansol introduced us, but you were mumbling about lady sheep.”

“Ewes! Lady sheep are called ewes! I know animal stuff!” he insists, sounding like a child trying to convince an adult that they have knowledge they don’t really have.

“They are, well done, Chan,” you approve, and Chan positively beams, straightening up proudly. “Did you come in to introduce yourself?”

“No, no, I would like to volunteer.”

“Here?” you check, leaning up to stand straight, his eyes following you as if he can’t bear to miss a single moment. It’s all very obvious, and honestly, you think it’s adorable.

“Yes, here. With you.”

“With me? I specialise in farm animals, so I’m not here a lot,” you inform.

“I love farms.”

“Right.” You snigger and move over to the filing cabinet to grab a form, then return to hand it to him. “Here, fill this out.”

Chan nods and moves forward to take a pen from the pot a little to his left, and diligently fill out the volunteer registration form, while you return to looking at your files. Or, at least, you try to look at your files, but you’re honestly very intrigued by the man; and yes, he’s very attractive and you’re not blind to that, or his clear interest in you.

Admittedly, you wouldn’t be against going on a date with Chan to get to know him, there’s something so endearing about him— and once again, he’s very visibly pleasing, so that’s always a happy bonus. However, he flusters so easily that you think it’d be so entertaining to watch him flounder around you for a while until he gains the courage to ask you on a date himself.

Plus, you could do with a helper, and you know he’s only pretending to care about animals to be near you, so you think it’s only fair you take advantage of that and put him to good use while you can.

“There, all done,” he announces a few minutes later, lifting his head and shyly offering you the completed form, which you immediately look over just to make sure that he’s suitable for the role, at least on paper. He doesn’t seem to have any medical issues that could cause a problem, and he’s stated he has a lot of hours to put towards volunteering, so he definitely seems to be a good fit.

“What are you willing to do exactly? There are a lot of misconceptions that people come in with when they want to volunteer; they think they’ll essentially get to just play with cute puppies and kittens that come in for treatment, and they fail to consider all the shit they’ll have to handle. Often, literal shit. Especially if you’re with me and the farm animals; I don’t think I need to tell you that you will step in shit on a farm, even if you try to avoid it.”

“I know. I grew up with Hansol; his parents are my second parents, so I was sort of raised on the farm too,” he assures, nodding. Which is the truth, technically. Chan did spend a lot of time at the Choi farm growing up, and still does, but mostly in the house or orchard around back, not with the animals so much. And he certainly doesn’t know how to look after them in any way, but he doesn’t think you’d be reckless enough to leave him to look after animals, so he’s not worried about that.

“Have you tended to the animals there?”

“No,” he admits a little sheepishly. “But I’m willing to learn and do whatever you want me to.”

“Whatever I want you too, huh?” you repeat, lips turning up a little.

Chan blinks at you, lips parted slightly due to the sudden, seductive expression that makes him feel a little like he’s been dipped in a pool of warm, melted wax. Fuck, he hopes you’re into wax play because he suddenly is really into it, even if he’s never participated or been interested before. He thinks he’d probably try everything at least once if you asked.

It’s only a second that the smirk lives on your lips before it melts away as if it was never there, and Chan briefly wonders if he imagined it and the insinuation, before he gathers his brain back up and nods.

“Good to know. When can you start?”

“Now. Right now. I have nothing to do.”

“Nobody waiting for you at home?” you wonder, moving to grab your coat from where you earlier put it on the back of a chair, knowing you’d need it again soon.

“I’m single!” he blurts. “Very, very single.” You just giggle amusedly and tuck the files and his form into the cabinet before locking it up, grabbing your bag, and circling the desk to hold it out to him. Chan takes it without question, big, round eyes locked on you from only a few feet away.

“Come on, I’ve got a patient to visit,” you inform and head out of the building.

Chan lets out an excited gasp as he realises that you’ve agreed to spend time with him— he pointedly doesn’t focus on the fact that it’s for work, not personal reasons— and scrambles after you with a grin, determined to be the best assistant ever so that you’ll fall hopelessly in love with him and let him remain by your side until the world stops spinning.

As it turns out, Chan is a very competent helper, as long as you don’t watch him for too long because then he gets flustered and forgets how to function like a normal human being. Other than his mishaps, he’s actually pretty proud of himself for doing such a good job. Sometimes, he’s even so focused on the work that he forgets that he stepped into the vets that day with the sole purpose of being near you.

Though, even with his original plan often being forgotten, it still works in his favour, and the two of you spend so much time together that friendship soon blooms.

When Chan’s not flustering or just staring at you dumbly as if he can’t believe you’re real, he’s actually very naturally charming and friendly, and very skilled at making you laugh. The first time he made you properly laugh, he mentally declared your laughter to be one of the great wonders of the world, and that he’ll do what he can to earn it at every chance. Which is something he achieves almost effortlessly. He thinks that when the two of you aren’t focused on work, you’re both laughing away together and chatting happily as if you’ve known one another for years, not just a month.

It gets to the point that, although he is still utterly enamoured with you and would love to hold your hand and kiss your pretty face, he is more than happy to just spend time with you, making you laugh, and seeing you smile as you tend to patients with nothing but love and care in your touch and eyes.

Even when the two of you start to hang out outside of working hours, it’s nothing but platonic, nothing he wouldn’t do with Hansol because Chan truly doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable, or risk losing your friendship. He’d rather be at your side like this than not at all, and he has no intention of even trying to change anything, despite what his friends say.

“So, how’s the woman of your dreams doing?” Seungkwan asks, fiddling with Hansol’s hair where it pokes out from his beanie, and Hansol just lets him, long ago used to Seungkwan’s fussing.

“Dreamy,” Chan replies, sighing happily as he slumps forward over the table at their usual bar, leaning his chin on one palm as his other hand mindlessly traces patterns into the condensation on his glass of coke. Usually, he’d be drinking some kind of alcoholic beverage, but he knows that you’ve gone out with some friends tonight, and he told you that you can call him if you need a ride, no matter how late, so he’s refraining from drinking tonight all for you.

“Right,” Seungkwan replies with a snigger, then turns, done fussing with Hansol, yet doesn’t move away and Chan isn’t so caught up in his own pining to not notice that the pair are even closer than normal. Which says something, because Chan thinks the two are almost attached at the hip when the three of them hang out.

“What’s going on?” Chan asks as he straightens up, giving the pair a suspicious look. Hansol, for his part, doesn’t really react, just continues looking over at Chan as he sips at his beer.

Seungkwan, however, has never had a good poker face, and gives Chan a too innocent smile as his ears redden. “I don’t know what you mean, Channie.”

“You two–” Chan starts to point out their position— and the fact he’s pretty damn sure Hansol’s hand is on Seungkwan’s thigh under the table— but he hears a familiar, heart fluttering, angelic sound, and he sits upright, head swivelling to search the bar for the one person he would happily ditch his best friends for.

“Oh, you’ve turned into a meerkat,” Seungkwan muses, relaxing in his place and giving Hansol a relieved look while Chan is distracted. Hansol just smiles at him, then they both focus on their best friend, who is practically climbing up onto his chair on his knees to get a higher vantage point. “Okay, too far,” Seungkwan declares when Chan’s leg lifts as if he’s going to plant a knee on the table to climb up. Or piss like a dog with his leg cocked, though Seungkwan is pretty sure that Chan needs to be much drunker to try that…again. That was a dark day for Chan’s new trainers.

“Noo, let me find her,” Chan whines, batting at Seungkwan’s hands, head still trying to peer around the fairly busy room.

“How about you go get us a fresh round, and you can scope the place like that?” Hansol suggests after draining the last dregs of his beer, before pushing the empty glass across the table.

“Good idea!” Chan quickly snatches the empty glass and gets up, whining at Seungkwan wordlessly as the man tries to down the last of his own beer without spilling it. “Finally!” Chan exclaims exasperatedly as he takes the freshly empty glass and darts off, while Seungkwan’s chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath, and Hansol rubs his back, soothing and amused at the same time.

As Chan crosses the room to get to the bar on the opposite side as the tables, skirting around the dance floor as he goes, he makes sure to keep his eyes open for you— and only walks into three people, which he thinks is a very low number for how busy it is mixed with not paying attention. Yet, no matter how hard he looks, he can’t find you, or hear your familiar laugh again, so he slumps against the bar and waits to be served.

He’s only there a minute and the bartender is working on refilling the glasses when someone approaches and leans on their elbows on the bar to his right. Naturally, Chan looks over and immediately lights up upon spotting you already grinning at him.

“I knew I heard your laugh!” he declares, and although it would probably be creepy from anyone else, you just find it cute from Chan and let out one of those laughs he loves so much. “Yeah, like that.” He sighs dreamily and leans one elbow on the bar so that he can fully face you.

“What happened to keeping yourself available for me tonight?” you muse.

“I’m always available for you,” he says, looking so serious and almost offended that you’d suggest otherwise. The audacity to think that he wouldn’t do literally anything to spend more time with you. It’s crazy talk.

“Oh yeah?” you question, and he nods, then looks to his left at the bar top when you motion to it. He spots the beers and understands.

“Those aren’t mine. They’re for my friends. You remember Hansol, right?”

“Yeah,” you laugh. “We were at his farm yesterday.”

“Well, yeah, him and our other best friend, Seungkwan. I think they’re dating or something now,” he announces, leaning in closer conspiratorially. You mirror his action with a grin, more than happy to go along with it. “They’ve always sat close, but tonight, they’re even closer, and I’m pretty sure Sol’s touching up Kwan under the table.”

“That doesn’t sound very public friendly,” you muse.

“Oh! Not in that way; I just meant has his hand on Kwan’s thigh. But now you’ve said that… I really hope it’s not in that way.” Chan isn’t sure what exactly his expression does, but it makes you laugh, so he doesn’t care, and just grins at you. “So, where are your friends?” he wonders, peering around curiously yet finds nobody looking in your direction as if they’re waiting for you to return.

“They were touching each other up under the table, so I ditched them,” you joke, and Chan laughs.

“Well, you can join us, if you want?”

“Depends.”

“On?”

“Will there be under the table touching?” You smirk, and Chan’s mind blanks as he stares at you dumbly, making you giggle. “Sure, I’d love to join you, if your friends won’t mind, that is.”

“They won’t. Kwan wants to meet you, and Sol already likes you.”

“Ah, that’s cool, I like him.”

Chan suddenly pouts at you, but you don’t notice, you’re too busy leaning forward onto the bar to flag down the bartender and order yourself a drink. Even when he hands his card to the bartender— without looking— Chan is still pouting at you. You look at him as you spot his bank card appear, and raise a questioning eyebrow at him, both for the paying for your drink, and the expression.

“What?” you ask, deciding to just accept the drink and face the pouting instead. You can always buy him a drink later anyway.

“You like me better, right?” he questions without losing his pout. You huff a soft laugh. “No?”

“Yes, idiot,” you assure, and Chan breams, despite you just calling him an idiot. “And if you must know, I think you’re very likely my favourite person in his town,” you declare, tone a little quieter, lower, as if it’s just the two of you, before you pick up your drink and turn away. Though Chan doesn’t follow, so you stop after a few steps and look back at his stunned, gawping figure. “Well, come on then, introduce me to the man Hansol’s touching up under the table.”

“Right!” Chan darts forward, intending to take you to the table as requested, yet you put a gentle hand on his chest to stop him, giggling amusedly. “Huh?”

“Didn’t you forget something?” you remind him and motion behind him at the bar, so Chan looks over and notices the two glasses of beer sitting there with his bank card left on the surface beside them.

“Oh, shit.” He rushes over to pocket his card, then grabs the drinks and turns to face you with an embarrassed little grin. “This way.”

At the table, Seungkwan lights up when Chan introduces you and says you’re joining them, and you grin back before joining them and easily get into conversation with Seungkwan as if you already know each other. As if you’ve always been around. As if you’re supposed to be here with them, right by Chan’s side.

Since the day in the bar where you spent hours with Chan, Hansol, and Seungkwan, Seungkwan has bugged Chan to ask you out at every available opportunity.

Because he’s a meddling little shit, Seungkwan has arranged many hang outs for the four of you. Which, to Chan, are increasingly feeling like double dates, despite the fact that Hansol and Seungkwan are still evasive about whatever is going on between them, and you never bat an eyelid about the growing romantic vibes to the hang outs.

You don’t even question it or back off when you arrive to Seungkwan’s apartment set up with slow, romantic music and candles. Or when Seungkwan insists you and Chan slow dance together after dinner. Okay, maybe that’s Chan’s fault. After he offhandedly mentions how he hasn’t danced with someone in a while, you say the same, and then Seungkwan goads the two of you on until you relent, pull Chan to his feet, and put his hand on your waist— Chan’s pretty sure he astrally projects for a second when that happens— in the middle of Seungkwan’s kitchen while the man himself watches on with a shit-eating grin.

Still, Chan doesn’t give in and is happy to continue as you are. Admittedly, he could be even happier if he got the chance to romance you, but he’s more than content being such good friends with you.

He really doesn’t expect you to feel otherwise, though.

It comes to a head completely out of the blue one morning, when Chan is using his day off to help you organise your so-rarely-used office at the vets. The fact it’s so rarely used is why it’s such a mess. Well, mess in the way there’s no obvious system and things are just placed everywhere, yet you always manage to find what you need quickly enough that you hadn’t wanted to block off any of your appointment times to tackle the task earlier. But it’s spring, and the local ewes have all started to pop out lambs left, right, and centre, so you haven’t been accepting appointments other than emergencies, just in case you get the call about a sheep in labour.

Chan isn’t aware of it, he’s too busy frowning in concentration down at the pile of books on the floor in front of him where he’s sitting as he tries to decide which ones you should display on your shelves and which should go in the closed cupboard, but you’ve been staring at him contemplatively for a good few minutes already.

When you speak, Chan jolts in surprise, first at the sudden noise, but then at the words that come out of your mouth. “Okay, are you going to ask me on a date, or am I going to have to do it?” You wait for a response for only a few seconds before taking his dumb expression and wide eyes as answer. “Alright, tonight at 6:30, pick me up and we’ll go to that Italian place Seungkwan keeps telling us to try. Okay?” It takes a few moments, but Chan manages to shut his mouth and nod in confirmation, slowly at first still in disbelief, but then the enthusiasm catches up and his head bobbles cutely, making you smile. “Good. Dress pretty for me, yeah?”

“Y–yeah,” he almost wheezes out, voice so pinched and quiet. But you just giggle and return to your work, so Chan takes a few moments to admire your smile and wait for his thundering heart to calm before he turns back to those books and then sighs forlornly. He wishes it was 6:30 already. Only eight hours left to go. Fuck.

Chan would like to say that he’s been cool and calm for the past hours. He’d like to say that he easily picked his outfit for the date with minimal deliberation, that he didn’t have three almost breakdowns, and that Seungkwan didn’t almost shake Chan’s brain out of his ears when he did nothing but stand in his shower for half an hour without even turning the water on— yes, Seungkwan did barge in on him, and no, Seungkwan doesn’t understand what privacy is.

Truthfully, Chan thinks he’s never been so nervous for anything in his life. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked at himself in the mirror and picked out every little thing someone could find as a fault, as a reason to leave him in the middle of a restaurant with only breadsticks and ice water to soothe his broken heart.

Realistically, Chan knows you’d never be so cruel, but he’s not Realistic Chan anymore, he’s Scared-That-The-Woman-Of-His-Dreams-Will-Realise-He’s-Not-Good-Enough-For-Her Chan. And Chan hates being Scared-That-The-Woman-Of-His-Dreams-Will-Realise-He’s-Not-Good-Enough-For-Her Chan, it’s too much of a mouthful.

So, Chan does what Chan does best, and deludes himself into thinking he’s a normal, functioning young man entirely capable of going on this date and not acting like a love-sick freak.

Well, he deludes himself until the moment you step out of your house and steal his breath away. You’re wearing a pretty dress that stops just above your knees— as if that’s not reason enough for Chan to lose his mind like a Victorian man seeing a woman’s ankles for the first time—, with a neckline that hints at cleavage without dipping low enough that Chan will be completely distracted all night having a staring contest with your boobs. You’ve even done your hair and put on some makeup that makes you look like a literal goddess. Chan isn’t going to be normal about this at all.

“Oh my god, you’re an angel,” he blurts as he scrambles forward to meet you a few metres from his car. His freshly washed and waxed car that he had previously been leaning against like the stud of a male lead in a cheesy rom com while feeling very much like one, and like he might have the upper hand and make you swoon for once. He was evidently, very fucking wrong about that.

“Oh,” you respond, surprised by how intense and genuine his reaction is. You had expected him to react pretty strongly, but this is so honest that it makes your heart flutter— more than he already makes it anyway, you just haven’t let him know that. You look down at your feet as you giggle shyly, and Chan positively melts. “Thank you. You look very handsome,” you compliment as you look at the man donned in a black shirt with maybe one button undone too low on his chest to not be on purpose— though you really aren’t opposed to the teasing glimpse of strong chest—, neat, dark trousers, and a nice jacket perfect for the weather, which he only brings out for special occasions. A date with you is the most special occasion as far as Chan is concerned. Honestly, you’d have to agree.

“Oh, really?” Chan asks, genuinely surprised, having not expected the compliment, and quickly looks at himself. “Seungkwan picked it; I…was too nervous to be useful.”

“Chan,” you start to say, and move forward to gently tilt his head back up so that he’ll see the truth in your eyes. “I always think you’re handsome.”

“Oh,” he exhales, eyes big and round, and cheeks warming softly.

“Come on, let’s go, I’m starving,” you encourage as you let go of him and step around his almost frozen figure to approach his car.

Before you can even reach out for the passenger door, Chan is suddenly there, scrambling to open it for you, then offer his hand to help you into your seat like a true gentleman. The best part is that you know he isn’t putting it on to impress you, Chan is just like that. It makes your heart flutter, and you giggle softly as you swing your legs into the footwell once seated to allow him to shut the door.

Chan all but falls into his seat moments later in his rush to join you. He gives you an adorably embarrassed smile as you laugh, endeared by his clumsy actions, and then he settles himself and pulls his door shut. “Okay, let’s go!” he cheers once he’s plugged his seatbelt in— and double checked yours is also securely in place—, then starts the drive to the restaurant.

Despite how nervous he was— and remains—, Chan has to admit that the date goes well. Like, really well.

Although it could be awkward, especially with his stammering, and gawping, and blurting out compliments at the most random times, it isn’t. It takes him a little while, but he realises that your smile doesn’t change even when he does those embarrassing things, not in a bad way at least. Every time he does something stupid or obviously smitten, your smile softens and your gaze on him turns so gentle that Chan can’t mistake it for anything but the truth; you’re fond of him, and find him endearing, not a giant fool. Okay, maybe you do also think that, but Chan suddenly realises that it’s pretty damn likely that you like that about him.

After a truly delicious dinner that you insist on paying for as the one who asked Chan on the date— which has Chan trying to not to giggle dopily into his hands like a swooning maiden at the reminder, and your no-nonsense, doting words and actions—, the two of you head outside to his car, only to divert before even reaching it as you motion to the nearby park. Chan’s more than happy to toddle after you, and all but squeaks when you gently grab his hand at the road to tug him across quickly so that you don’t have to wait until after the incoming stream of cars to cross.

Unfortunately, you let go of him once you’re both safely across the road with both feet on the path. Chan thinks he does a very convincing job of pretending to not pout about no longer having your hand in his. He doesn’t. It’s incredibly obvious, and you’re further endeared, though decide to wait and let him reach out to reconnect your hands.

But as it so happens, Chan is a coward and doesn’t make any sort of move to hold your hand, leaving it up to you. After almost twenty minutes of waiting as the two of you leisurely stroll through the mostly empty park, talking and giggling away like you’ve been doing all evening, you realise that you’ll be waiting for the rest of your life for Chan to make a move, so you reach out and take his hand into yours.

“Oh,” Chan says, dumbly looking down at your hands, making you grin to yourself, which only grows when you adjust your hold to slip your fingers between his own to secure the affection and Chan inhales so suddenly that he almost chokes on air. “Hands,” he wheezes out.

“Mm, do you mind?”

“No! Always hands!” he insists, looking up at you with wide, imploring eyes, and emphatically nods.

“Okay, always hands,” you agree with a giggle and tug him that bit closer so that you can all but hug his arm to you, right hand still connected with his, and your left hand holding his upper arm. Of course, you take a chance to cop a feel of his strong bicep, and, of course, Chan doesn’t miss the chance to flex the muscle, making you giggle. He smiles, pleased of himself— and proud of his body for gaining your interest—, and finally curls his fingers to hold your hand in return as the two of you let the conversation naturally ebb out for a calm, content quiet to replace it.

Although it’s only spring and the moon is high in the sky, it’s not as cold as it could be outside, so when you spot a bench just a little off the path, you lead Chan over to it so that you can sit by his side and lean into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, and happy to spend the rest of the night by his side like this if he’ll let you. You’re pretty confident he has no arguments about it. Especially as he holds your hand that bit tighter as he rests it on his thigh, thumb rubbing over your skin absently, and tilts his head against yours with a content sigh.

“Thank you,” Chan’s gentle tone breaks the quiet a little while after sitting down, making you hum questioningly in response. “I know I act like an idiot around you, but it’s just because I like you so much that I just…get stupid. Well, stupider than normal, if you ask everyone else.”

“It’s cute.”

“I’m glad you think so. And that you asked me out. I didn’t think you were interested in me, would ever be interested in me; you’re just so…” he lets out a dreamy sigh that makes you turn your face to hide your dopey grin in his shoulder.

When you turn your head back around after a few seconds to gather yourself and stop smiling so stupidly cheesy, Chan is quiet again, and happily softly smiling ahead at nothing in particular, just letting his feelings show unabashedly on his features. You can’t help but straighten up so that you can lean in and kiss his cheek.

“Thank you for liking me so much,” you say, gently grateful. “I’m lucky to have your interest, and I don’t plan to let you move on to anyone else.”

“I won’t,” he promises, so seriously as he nods to back up his words, making you smile a little wider, so endeared. “You’re everything I never knew I wanted, and I know I’ll never find anyone better than you.”

“Good.” Your grin is cheeky, and Chan can’t help but chuckle softly, fond.

For a few long moments, the two of you do nothing but hold adoring eye contact, little smiles on your face, and neither shying away from this, from what this could turn into if you give it the chance. Chan wants to, with everything in him; he’s had a taste of what it’s like to be blessed with your entire romantic attention, and he wants to keep that privilege for the rest of his life. He’d also really like to get a taste of you, and his eyes drop down to your lips as that thought settles in his mind.

A soft, surprised inhale slips from your lips when you notice that Chan is leaning in. The man who didn’t have the balls to even hold your hand despite very obviously wanting to, is tilting towards you, aiming to kiss you. You want him to; fuck do you want him to. You’re tempted to lean in just so it’ll happen quicker, but you also want Chan to make a real move entirely on his own so that it’s not always you doing it, and he realises that he can do it without you guiding him.

And then, just as he’s mere inches away, your phone starts to ring, and you both freeze. If it was your personal phone, you wouldn’t even hear it right now, you put it on do not disturb before leaving your house for the date. But you can hear it and that can only mean one thing; it’s your work phone, and it’s important.

“Shit,” you whisper before turning to your bag to find out your work phone while Chan leans back into his own space, a little upset about being interrupted, but mostly understanding and also a little worried it’s a serious animal emergency. “It’s Hansol,” you inform after looking at the caller ID, then swipe to answer while lifting the device to your ear. “Hey, what’s going on?” you ask, already getting up, knowing that regardless of the reason Hansol is calling, you need to get to his family farm sooner rather than later; he’s far too experienced and level-headed to call you for anything minor.

“Sheila’s gone into labour,” he announces.

“Alright, I’ll be there soon, you know what to do until then.”

“Got it, see you soon, doc.”

You place your phone back away and turn, expecting Chan to still be sitting on the bench, but he’s already standing close by with his car keys in his hand.

“Let’s go,” he says, taking your hand into his free one to quickly lead you back through the park, both of you rushing to get to his car sooner.

Without you saying a word, Chan drives straight to the vets, and though you don’t tell him to, he follows you inside to help you grab everything you need— the man now well versed in what exactly you need to help bring a lamb or two into the world—, then leads you back to his car.

“You missed the turning,” you comment a few minutes later, pointing dumbly to the road that leads towards your house.

“No I didn’t.” He briefly gives you a look as if you’re stupid, before focusing on the road out of town. “Sol’s place is this way.”

“Oh…I thought you were taking me home and then going home yourself,” you admit.

“I’m your assistant, aren’t I?” He grins cheekily. You let out a soft little laugh, so relieved and beyond glad to have this lovely man by your side and reach out to hold his hand into your own. He smiles a little brighter without looking away from the road.

After hours of waiting, when the sun has chased the moon away and started to rise up and smile down on the two new lives blessing the Choi farm, your job is done.

“I’ll never get over it,” Chan comments as the two of you head back towards his car, both of your outfits completely ruined from the birthing fluids, dust, and hay of the barn, and your hair in a messy, barely still together bun Chan had tied it into hours ago while you pulled on your long gloves.

“Hm?” you wonder, glancing at him quickly, then looking at his car as he unlocks it, allowing you to open the boot so that he can put your bags inside— which he insisted on carrying with the excuse that you carried the weight of bringing two new lambs into the world, so it’s his turn to carry; luckily, he’s cute enough to get away with such bullshit.

“You just helped that mama bring her babies into this world, and you let me assist you. No matter how many times I help you do this, I’ll never get over how incredible it is.”

“It’s a good feeling, huh?” you muse.

“Beyond good. I might just quit my job to do this full time,” he declares, making you laugh. “What? I’m serious!”

“Channie, lambing season is spring, you’d be out of a job most of the year if you quit just for this,” you reason.

“I meant work with you in general, really. And there are other animals to help through labour, too! I wanna help bring a baby cow into the world.”

“Alright, next time I get that call, I’ll let you know.” Chan beams at you, looking so genuinely happy at the offer that you can’t help but be further endeared by the man.

“I should probably call off work today,” he muses after checking the time on his watch— that has been tucked safely in his jacket pocket out of the way for the past few hours to not risk ruining it, and the jacket hung up on a post in the barn far from the splash zone at your insistence; he had practically sprinted to do as you told him to when you said you really liked how it looked on him and hope to see him wear it again. “I’m due at work in like two hours.”

“Mm, yeah, call off,” you agree a little distractedly as you watch him meander around the car after shutting the boot, his eyes on his phone as he types a message to his boss one handed, and the other blindly reaching for the passenger side door long before he’s close enough to grasp the handle.

“You’ll at least take the morning off, right?” he checks as he slides his phone into his pocket and looks at you.

“Yeah, I won’t go in until the afternoon. Unless there’s an emergency, of course,” you answer, soothing him of his worries.

“And you’ll call me if you need me, right? For anything.”

“Anything?” you tease, and he nods so seriously that you can’t help but chuckle as the euphemism goes right over his adorable head. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” He motions to the seat, then offers his hand to you like he’s been doing all night to help you in and out of the car— like he’s always wanted to but felt it would be overstepping as a friend to do so, but he’s your…date-man now; he has no idea what he is to you at this point, but whatever it is, he wears the label with pride.

You take his hand and start to move towards the seat, only to back up and turn to face him so suddenly that he jerks back in shock, only to lean back in, eyes round in curious wonder. “So, I know this isn’t the most attractive look or anything.” You motion to yourself vaguely; Chan’s gaze follows to take you in head to toe, and when his gaze returns to you, he’s got a little smile on his face that makes you blush softly. “But I don’t want to wait until an undetermined later point.” Unsurprisingly, Chan’s expression turns puzzled. “I would very much like it if you did the thing you were going to do before Hansol called.”

Somehow, Chan just look even more confused, features scrunching cutely, and head tilting to the side— maybe it’s the animal loving vet you in you that absolutely loves it when he gains this dumb, puppy-dog look. After rolling your eyes at his reaction, figuring you’ll have to spell it out and you’d rather just get to it, you lean in to press a kiss to Chan’s lips. It’s only a quick thing, nothing but a sweet barely-longer-than-a-peck kiss, before you pull back. Chan’s making some strange, strangled, shocked noise as he stares at you with wide eyes, making you snicker out a laugh.

To your genuine surprise, Chan suddenly snaps out of his daze and lifts both hands to cup your face, secure yet still gentle, so that he can connect his lips with yours in a kiss so perfect that you never want it to end. You all but melt against him, hands lifting to hold onto his wrists so that he’ll not let you go before you’re ready; he just kisses you more thoroughly. For someone that’s been so awkward and cowardly about making a move until now, the man can kiss. Holy fuck can the man kiss.

Only when both of your chests are heaving to try and suck in some oxygen do you naturally pull apart to dopily stare at one another under the rising sun with lamb birth dried on your nicest clothes. It’s probably pretty gross for a first kiss— ignoring your peck—, but you still think it’s perfect, and you’d never change it for the world.

“For the record,” Chan starts after a minute; once you’re both breathing almost normally again and his thumbs are consistently brushing soothing arcs over your cheekbones as his palms refuse to leave your skin. Not that you’ve tried to make him stop and would happily let him touch you so tenderly until the sun sets again. “You’re always attractive to me.”

You smile and tilt your chin up to press a short kiss to his lips. “You say that now but wait until you see me first thing in the morning, hungover, with only two hours sleep.”

Chan grins and cutely taps his nose against yours. “Just sounds to me like you’re already planning to share the bed with me,” he points out cheekily, making you giggle. “I already look forward to it.”

“Yeah,” you agree softly. “Me too.”

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It must’ve been around two months ago now that you first saw Seoyeon wandering around Rainy Days Arcade curiously. She was alone, but she seemed content that way, with her headphones on and eyes roaming over the various games on offer to play.

Though, over the weeks following her first visit, you realised that she never had company, never tried to talk to the other teens her own age, and avoided the ones wearing the same school uniform as her. After two weeks of watching the lonely girl play on her own with barely a twitch of her lips when she won, she finally removed her headphones; you took the chance to talk to her and invite her to play a game with you.

To your joy, the day after you first spoke to her, she removed her headphones after spotting you a few games away. You took it for the invitation it was to join her, learn her name, and earn a few smiles that grew brighter with each round played.

Ever since then, Seoyeon has come out of her shell a lot. She still doesn’t talk to the other teens, but she does always find you out, and even happily talks to the other staff members of Rainy Days Arcade. Still, it’s clear you’re her favourite. Especially since the day that you pointed out that you are friends, after she admitted that she struggles to make friends and hasn’t befriended a single person at her new school despite a month of classes passing.

So now, you’re two months into being the best friend of a sweetheart of a shy 14-year-old girl, and only just realising that her dad is the single most attractive person you have ever laid eyes on.

Of course, you don’t blame her for not mentioning it; you can’t imagine anyone would ever call their own dad a DILF. But you still would’ve liked the heads up so that you can mentally prepare for the day Lee Seokmin first steps foot into the arcade and proves himself to be the man of your wettest and wildest dreams.

Honestly, you would probably find that very first moment you spot one another comical if you had been witnessing it and not starring in it.

For the past ten minutes, you and Seoyeon have been bothering Skater at the prize desk, where the young man has been trying to line up the new plushies on the shelf in the exact way you and Seoyeon instruct him. You’re pretty sure he can tell that you two are just messing with him and that you really don’t care how precisely the toys are displayed; but he’s always so placid and willing to do whatever you want, especially when you’re giggling away. He just keeps glancing over his shoulder at you with a dopily smitten smile and asks if he’s got it right yet.

Honestly, he probably had it right the very first second that he plopped the items down, but this innocent mischief is entertaining Seoyeon, and you really do love seeing her happy, so the façade continues.

Though, the second you naturally glance across the arcade to check that everything is still going as smoothly as last time you looked, you find a literal god on earth walking towards you. Seriously, there’s a glow behind him and ethereal music playing the second you lock your eyes on him. Granted, it’s probably coming from the mythical themed game he’s passing, but the timing is too perfect to dismiss.

He's looking around the arcade as he walks— clearly searching for someone— yet the instant his gaze lands on you, he stops in his tracks, and his eyes grow wide.

That music picks up, turns a little deeper, faster. The soft white blush blends into a sultry red halo of temptation around him. The world around you stops existing and you feel yourself drawn to this man so strongly that you take a step without thinking.

And then,

“Dad?”

All at once, the arcade bursts back to life around you. He’s no longer lit up and staring at you, but just another man— albeit a ridiculously gorgeous one— turning to smile at his daughter. Who happens to be right at your side.

“Hi, Snowdrop!” the man greets, brightening as he nears, attention on his daughter as you stare at Seoyeon with thinly veiled betrayal at her breaking the bestie code and hiding a hot guy from you.

You have to remind yourself that she is that hot guy’s teenage daughter pretty quickly, so that you can look like a normal human being when he looks at you with a polite, friendly smile and little wave, making you realise that Seoyeon is introducing you.

“This is Sunflower,” she says, motioning to you and you notice his eyes widen in shock, but she ignores him. “Sunflower, this is my dad, Lee Seokmin.”

“Lovely to meet you,” you say, offering your hand and internally melting as his strong, yet still gentle, hand clasps yours in an instinctive handshake.

“Yeah, you–you too,” he responds, leaning back as you reluctantly loosen your grip and end the polite greeting. “I uhm, sorry, I don’t mean to be rude, I really thought Sunflower was a same-aged friend. Seoyeon never said that you’re…not.”

“Sorry, that’s probably weird, huh? A 28-year-old befriending your 14-year-old,” you respond with a wince, entirely understanding how creepy it probably seems.

“28,” he chokes out, eyes widening further.

“Yeah…”

“There a problem, man?” Skater, bless his heart, asks from behind the counter as he leans on it with the stern expression he only breaks out when customers are being a pain in the ass picking their prizes. “Sunflower is a sweetheart and has been looking out for your kid while you’re off being too busy to be a parent.”

“Skater!” you scold, turning to give him a warning look that he only shrugs at before straightening, crossing his arms over his chest, and clearly unwilling to apologise or take his words back. Honestly, you can’t blame him.

For two months, Seoyeon has spent hours at the arcade. She arrives every day after school and leaves hours later when you watch her get on the bus to head home so that you know she’s left safely. And on the weekends, she often spends whole days at the arcade; enough that you make sure you always work weekends now just in case she does turn up, so that you can keep her company— even if you know the other staff would keep an eye on her. You just feel protective of the girl and want to do your best to make her feel less alone.

“No, he’s right,” Seokmin says. “I work a lot, probably too much, but I’m working on it,” he says. “It’s a new town for us, so I’ve been setting up, letting people know that I’m a reliable choice, so I’ve not been the best father I could be lately. That’s going to change.” He looks at Seoyeon as he says this, eyes and voice so sincere that even though he’s not talking to you, you can’t help but believe him. “I promise, Snowdrop, I’ll make more time to be with you.”

To your relief, Seoyeon smiles and moves forward to hug her dad right there, careless of who sees. You know that she loves her dad; she’s mentioned him a few times and always sounds fond and happy, so you know he can’t be a bad guy, not really. But you had been worried that she was putting on a brave face, or that she gave him more praise than he deserved— considering how much time she’s with you and not him. Yet seeing the pair so easily and lovingly embrace like this, it’s clear that it’s not unusual, and Seokmin has raised his daughter to not be afraid to show affection without shame.

The father-daughter duo breaks the hug, but he keeps his arm around her shoulders, suit pulling tight over his raised bicep and you can’t help but wonder what you’ve got to do to get those big, beefy arms wrapped around you instead.

“Thank you for looking out for Seoyeon, Sunflower,” Seokmin says, but you only snap your eyes and attention away from his bulging arms when you hear your work name said. He’s smiling at you softly, looking very grateful, which turns a little bashful when you smile back, unable to remain straight-faced when he’s smiling at you. You think anyone who doesn’t smile back at him is probably a psychopath. “I really appreciate it, and I don’t think you’ve done anything wrong or have bad intentions. She’s mentioned you a lot; told me how kind you are and how you always make a point of talking to anyone who looks lonely here. I was just…surprised. I really did think you were closer to her age…not…28.”

“Well, I am,” you respond, not sure what else to say.

“You’re here so much with my daughter that your own family must be really missing you at home!” he says quickly, some guilt shining in his big eyes.

“My family?” you question. “I live alone.”

“Oh…sorry,” he gives you a sheepish, embarrassed smile, and scratches his neck with his free hand, the other mindlessly tapping his daughter’s shoulder where it rests. “I just…I thought I had Seoyeon late, and I was 28, so I guess I always assume people have started their families by that age.”

You laugh, shaking your head a little. “No, no kids for me at the moment. Maybe if I find the right person, but it’s not something I’m looking for or anything.”

“Ah, okay. That’s cool! To each their own!” he declares with a smile.

“Did you come to play, dad?” Seoyeon prompts, realising the topic is over and she can talk without being rude by interrupting.

“Huh? Oh, no, no. I finished work early, so I thought we could go out for dinner tonight?” he suggests once he’s looking at his daughter, who nods enthusiastically with a smile to match. As Seokmin beams back at her, you can’t help but notice the similarities in how bright they both are; the way their eyes sparkle in reflection of one another. It’s adorable.

Seoyeon darts around the prize desk to grab her school bag from where she always stows it out of the way under the desk. Unlike with all the staff members— except you— Skater never complains when she takes up some of his snack shelf, as he calls it; just smiles and lets her put her trust in him to guard over her belongings.

Even now, he just smiles at her and pats her on the shoulder in his usual friendly manner as she passes him. “See ya tomorrow, Bud,” he says.

“See you tomorrow, Skater,” Seoyeon responds. “See you tomorrow, Sunflower!”

“See you tomorrow, Bud,” you respond, earning a confused look from Seokmin. “Nice to meet you, Seokmin, come by more often. We’ll show you a good time,” you can’t help but inject a little suggestive edge to your words and judging by the way Seokmin stumbles slightly as his daughter tugs him away, he doesn’t miss it. He glances at you in slight alarm, then smiles shyly, waves, and quickly rushes after Seoyeon before her pulling makes him fall flat on his face.

“Damn, you got a thing for older guys for real,” Skater comments with a whistle from behind you as you lean back on the counter with a dreamy sigh, admiring Seokmin’s ass in his perfectly tailored trousers as he leaves the arcade. “He’s literally the same age as my dad.”

“Maybe you should’ve introduced me to your dad,” you tease, grinning over your shoulder at Skater.

“Pretty sure his wife would not approve of that,” he deadpans.

“Ah, the wicked stepmother,” you respond with an understanding hum. He makes a noise back, clearly disapproving of his father’s choice in wife. “He only married her last year; I’ve known you for four years now, Skate, I could’ve taken her place by now. Wouldn’t you like to call me mommy?” you coo, leaning over to pinch his cheek.

“God, not in that way,” he responds shamelessly, making you laugh as you push away from the counter. “You gonna bone Bud’s dad?”

“I’m gonna fucking try.”

“What’s the game plan?”

“Get his attention, get his dick,” you summarise. Skater just laughs. “Alright, back to work; those plushies aren’t going to display themselves.”

“Yes, mommy.”

“Kinky fucker.”

Honestly, when you said to Skater that your first step in your game plan for getting Seokmin into your bed is “get his attention”, you really had no fucking idea how to achieve that. Despite the father-daughter duo having moved to town a little over two months ago, you haven’t once seen them anywhere but the arcade, and Seokmin only once.

Really, you were probably a little over ambitious with your plan. You probably should’ve added a research section where you subtly ask Seoyeon about her dad and where you can coincidentally bump into him— without her present— to not so subtly flirt with him.

Or at him, you’re not sure yet if he’d retaliate; he seemed more stunned than anything with your parting comment last time. You have no idea if his staring was because he had just found that his daughter’s new bestie isn’t a fellow teen but a grown ass woman, or if he likes what he sees of this grown ass woman. You’re hoping for the later, but not willing to hold your breath about it.

Regardless, you didn’t factor that into the game plan and even now, days later and after days of spending time with Seoyeon, you don’t amend your plan to include that step. As much as you would love to get your hands— and mouth, and entire body— on her dad, you respect the girl too much to use her like that. So, you just carry on like normal and pray for some god-like intervention to help you initiate level 1 of your game plan.

When you glance over your shoulder and notice Seokmin approaching you and Seoyeon, you think you may have to start praying more often, especially if this man is the god you’re praying to. You’d happily get on your knees to worship him any day.

“Hey,” he greets from a few metres away, smiling at you, and waves a little. You lift one hand from the plastic gun in your hands to wave back.

“Ha! Got ya!” Seoyeon cheers, making you turn to look at the screen and find that yes, Seoyeon has eliminated your avatar with a very effective headshot. You can’t even be mad about it; it’s a good shot. But that doesn’t mean you’re not going to play on it.

“Hey! No fair!” you complain, putting down the controller as she does the same with hers, docking them securely so that they don’t fall.

“You should’ve been paying attention,” she sasses, then giggles when you gawp at her.

“Are you playing nicely, Snowdrop?” Seokmin teases as he stops a few feet away, making Seoyeon turn and beam at him.

“Always!” she insists. “Are we going for dinner again? It’s a bit early,” she realises, face falling. “Do I have to leave?”

“Actually, I was thinking you could show me around and we can play some of your favourite games before heading off,” Seokmin responds, making Seoyeon light up.

“Yeah!” she enthuses and grabs Seokmin’s arm to start pulling him to one side of the arcade. “Let’s start over here, there’s so many cool games! You’ll love some of the prizes too.” Seokmin shoots you a little smile as he obligingly lets his daughter drag him across the building, getting lost from your sight amongst the consoles and lights, but you don’t mind. Not when Seoyeon looks happier than she ever has now that her dad’s joined her.

“Damn, tough luck,” Skater says, appearing behind you, making you jolt in surprise then turn to flick his upper arm, making him snicker.

“Have you just turned up?” you question, well aware that you haven’t seen or heard of Skater yet today until now, and Dip has been covering him at the prize desk all afternoon.

“Hit a pothole,” he explains, lifting his arm which, now high enough, you can see has a bandage wrapped around it. “It was nasty.”

“Gross,” you comment at the thought of how he must’ve messed up his arm on the road when he fell off his skateboard. Again. The guy spends more time on the floor than actually riding it, but he’s determined. Even if you’ve known him for four years– since he started working at Rainy Days Arcade— and he has only recently managed to figure out how to turn his skateboard without toppling right off. The poor, directionally and balance challenged fool.

“Yep. I did message the chat, but you never check it, so, not my fault, boss.”

“You guys talk so much fucking shit in there,” you defend with a groan as you both turn and head to the prize desk so that he can stow his skateboard— still clutched in his unbandaged arm— and relieve Dip from the cover. “It’s supposed to be work related.”

“How many people Sandman has bored to fuck in a day is work related,” he insists.

“Yeah, and why is Noodle in it? He doesn’t even work here.”

“He’s an honorary member!” Skater defends as he circles around the desk to prop his board up on the holder that you had installed on the back wall when he kept tripping over the board every time he had to move around. He really is a walking safety hazard.

“Who is?” Dip asks as she gets up from the stool, pushing herself up off of the counter she’s leaning against as if her entire body is heavy. Judging by the glassy look in her eyes, it probably does feel that way, but you know she’ll never shirk her duties regardless of how high she is. And at least she never smokes around work hours, only takes edibles, so she thankfully doesn’t come in smelling of it, because then there would be a serious problem. You’d hate to fire her for making the place reek of weed; she’s always the first to step up when customers cause issue. You think she probably enjoys kicking people out far too much for such a chill woman, but still, you don’t mind.

“Noodle,” you answer.

“Ah, they’re a package deal at this point, Flower; you know this,” Dip points out as she leans against your shoulder. “You smell good, that a new perfume?”

“Yeah, MD saw it in the store a few days ago and made her mums buy it for me, because it’s a sunflower bottle.”

“Aww, she’s so cute,” Dip coos and you can’t help but nod in empathic agreement. Your little cousin is the cutest little shit going. “When’s she coming ‘round next? I miss her.”

“Doc’s gotta come fix the table that asshole broke the other day,” Skater reminds, pointing to his right, to the wall that leads to the snack bar attached— though technically in another unit— with an archway further down the wall to let customers pass between. And also lets the scents of all the fried foods and sweet snacks waft through, enticing customers, but also staff.

“Mm, reminds me, I’m hungry. He better have made up a fresh batch of ‘slaw or I’ll cry,” she says, already toddling off to the snack bar, knowing that although you are their boss, you really don’t care if they eat or drink on shift— so long as they still do their jobs and don’t make a mess, of course.

“Where is your conjoined bestie, anyway?” you wonder, glancing around as if Noodle will pop up from behind one of the machines any second. It’s happened before.

“Probably getting cursed out by Frenchie for bringing another instant noodle pot into the kitchen and making him boil water for him,” Skater muses, once again motioning to the separating wall, in between neatening the boxes in the glass display case under the counter you’re leaning on.

“Makes sense,” you respond then pat the counter before pushing away from it. “Let me know if your arm plays up; I’ve got painkillers in the office.”

“I know.” Skater chuckles, looking at you amusedly. “Just say you’re making excuses to take me back there.”

“Ha, you wish,” you scoff.

“Yeah, I really do.” You just laugh, fondly rolling your eyes at his complete lack of shame about his ongoing crush on you, before you walk off to do the rounds; to make sure the customers are happy, and everything is running smoothly.

To your utter joy, it’s only two days before you see Seokmin, god of your libido, again.

It’s Sunday, and although Seoyeon had arrived an hour ago on her own, she had announced that her dad would be by once he’s done with his usual Sunday morning chores. She had also warned that it probably wouldn’t be until the afternoon, because he is really particular about the laundry cycle, and how to clean the kitchen.

Yet he steps into the arcade and immediately finds the pair of you only an hour after his daughter arrives. “Snowdrop!”

“Dad?” she baulks, turning to look at him in surprise; you take the chance to knock out her character. “Sunflower!” she whines as he hears the KO announcement and turns to look at you in betrayed disbelief.

“What? You should’ve been paying attention,” you retort sassily, reflecting her words from the other day back at her. She gawps at you, though breaks into giggles when you theatrically flip your hair over your shoulder, especially as it’s tied up in a half-hearted bun so there are only some wispy strands even hanging down to flip. You giggle along with her then take a step back. “I’ll let you two have your peace. You know where I’ll be if you need me for anything.”

“Why do you say that as if you’re ever in one place long?” Seoyeon deadpans. “You’re always wandering around.”

“I’ve got a lot of energy, okay,” you defend and glance at Seokmin, finding him smiling happily, seeming to enjoy witnessing you and his daughter interacting so playfully. “Anyway, if you need my stamina, come find me,” you finalise, making sure to lock your gaze with Seokmin’s suddenly wide eyes before you turn and head off.

You barely manage to make it a few games away before a regular customer, a kid barely 6-years-old— who turns up a couple of times a week with his teen sibling— pops up in front of you with the usual grin he always wears when he spots you. Without a word, you sweep him up into your arms, making him giggle madly; he happily bounces through the air as you carry him over to his favourite racing game to keep him occupied and safe until his sibling is ready to leave.

Although there are signs around the arcade stating that all children under 13 must always be accompanied by someone over 16— signs all of the staff adamantly stand by—, there are some exceptions to the rule. You had once confronted the boy’s sibling, only to quickly notice how drained the teen was, and you just knew that they already have enough on their plate. Ever since then, you make sure to feed the pair and play free babysitter for a couple hours a week to give the teen a break.

And honestly, even if you spend an hour straight sitting on that plastic chair until your ass goes numb, so long as the boy is innocently laughing away on your lap as he purposely veers off course, you’re happy to do it.

Rainy Days Arcade was started those decades back with the sole purpose of giving people a happy place to be and just forget about all the shit life throws at them, especially on rainy days when the outside world can feel a little sadder. You’re always so proud that even now, even when most people have game consoles in the comfort of their own homes, your family’s business can still do exactly what it was made to do.

“You know, I’m starting to think your plan might be working,” Skater comments one evening as the two of you lean against the prize counter, sharing a basket of Frenchie’s infamous dirty fries.

“Hm?” you respond, eyes glancing over the arcade yet inevitably returning to where Seoyeon and Seokmin are playing a game together. The man is clearly not at all experienced or skilled at any of the arcade games; he consistently loses with sulky pouts that shouldn’t be so cute on a 42-year-old man, though they always quickly morph into smiles upon seeing his daughter’s joy at winning.

“Bud’s dad,” Skater says, vaguely motioning with a floppy couple of fries towards the pair before abruptly leaning forward to shove the fries into his mouth before the topping can slip off onto the glass counter. “He keeps looking at you,” he informs around the food in his mouth.

“Heathen,” you say, giving Skater a disgusted look, which grows when he opens his mouth to show you his partially chewed food. “Gross!” you exclaim, shoving his shoulder while he laughs, though thankfully, with his mouth shut.

“His seduction techniques leave a lot to be desired,” Noodle’s voice suddenly announces, making you both look over the counter to find the young man standing there, helping himself to the fries as if he’s been present for ages already. You hadn’t even heard him approach, but at this point, you’re used to him appearing like some weird, noodle-obsessed entity and only react to slap his hand away when he reaches for more. “Hey,” he complains, pouting at you. “You’re sharing with him.” He points to Skater as if they’re not best friends and have been— you’re pretty sure— since they learned to crawl.

“I’m her favourite,” Skater declares.

“He dropped his burger, I pity him,” you correct and Noodle hums in understanding, picking up his pot of freshly steaming instant noodles from the counter to mix them and test if they’re done. As if the guy doesn’t know the precise cooking times for every single brand of instant noodles at this point.

“How’s your plan going?” Noodle asks a moment later as he leans back against the counter while he eats, eyes quickly finding Seoyeon and her dad— the pair now on a different game. “He’s wearing tighter trousers today.”

“I noticed,” you say with a dreamy sigh as you lean down onto the counter, resting your chin in your palms. “I want to bite his thighs, Nood.”

“Really fucking weird you call him nude,” Skater mutters. You both ignore him.

“They’re huge. Think he’d give me work-out tips?” Noodle asks, looking down at his own thighs.

You lean forward to peer over the counter down at his denim clad legs. “Your thighs are already big,” you comment before leaning back.

“No, keep leaning over the counter,” Skater argues in a whine, making you look over your shoulder at him, not at all surprised to find his eyes on your ass. “Noodle, do some squats, get her to lean over again.”

“You want to fuck her and you’re trying to get her to check me out?” Noodle deadpans, making Skater look up at his best friend as if he hadn’t even considered that. Noodle snorts a laugh then turns back around to look over the arcade as he eats.

“Can’t believe you’re trying to get me to check out your best friend, Skate,” you tease, turning to face him better and leaning one elbow on the counter. Skater blinks at you kind of dumbly, still looking surprised at his accidental encouragement. “Don’t you want to fuck me anymore, Skater?”

“Don’t say such stupid things,” he retorts, snapping back to reality to look at you with such an offended expression that you burst into giggles. “Can I record your giggles and put it as my alarm? I’ll wake up happy then,” he asks, already reaching for his phone.

“God, you’re such a freak,” Noodle comments without turning around.

Instead of answering Skater, you grab a final couple of fries then walk off with amusement pulling your lips up.

“Sunflower!” Seoyeon’s voice makes you abruptly turn and head towards her instead of going to the snack bar to get a drink.

“What’s up, Bud?” you ask as you near the girl and her dad.

“The prize is stuck,” she says with a pout, pointing at the keyring stuck in the chute of the penny machine they’ve been playing.

“Go get a new one from Skater, this one’ll smell like pennies,” you say, even as you unhook the bundle of keys from your belt.

“Do I have to get the exact same one?” she wonders, making you give her a questioning look while your fingers flick through the keys to find the correct one without looking— you’ve been doing this for so long that you know all of the keys by touch alone at this point, it’s a skill you’re rather proud of. “Dad likes the sunflower one better than the tulip,” she informs, pointing into the neighbouring machine to where the little sunflower keyring lays close to the moving shelf on top of the pennies, too far away from the chute to be worth trying.

“Mm, sure,” you consent. Seoyeon grins, then bounces over to the prize counter while you focus on unlocking the glass door.

“I uhm, thanks, for agreeing,” Seokmin says, making you glance at him and find him standing close on your right, not touching but you know it wouldn’t take much of an adjustment to brush your ass against him if you turn slightly. But you don’t. Even if you want to. “Sunflowers have always been my favourite flower.”

“I’m taking that as a personal compliment,” you joke with a wink then reach into the machine to free the stuck keyring and place it back on the pennies, before locking the door back into place.

“Ah…yeah,” he chuckles softly, sounding a little awkward and when you look at him, he looks endearingly shy, eyes diverted aside as he mindlessly plays with his earlobe. “Are they your favourite too? Seoyeon told me all staff go by a nickname here, but she doesn’t know the story behind any of them because she’s never asked.”

“No, well, I do love them, but I love all flowers; my mum raised me with a love and appreciation for all plants,” you answer as you lock the door back into place before straightening up.

“Then why are you called Sunflower? And not…Daisy or something?” he wonders, tilting his head a little as he looks at you curiously.

“When I was little, I always followed my uncle around. He was the one who ran the arcade then and he went by Sunshine, because he was always so bright and happy. I looked up to him in every way; always turned to him when he was near like a sunflower to the sun, so Sunflower came easily.”

“Oh, that’s really sweet,” Seokmin says, smiling in a way that makes your chest warm. He looks so endeared by the little story, eyes soft and tender. It’s dangerous for your heart and you suddenly want to change his expression before he gains the attention of your heart as well as your libido.

“It’s probably the only name with a deeper meaning,” you announce with a little grin as you lean against the machine behind you. “Skater got his name because he always has a skateboard, and he can’t ride it for shit.” Seokmin chokes on a laugh he tries to hold back. “It’s okay, you can laugh; he’s not shy about that at all and will admit to the root of his workname to anyone who asks.”

With your assurance, Seokmin lets himself laugh, lips lifting into a smile that makes you think your heart may get involved no matter how hard you try to stop it.

To try to counteract the fact Seokmin has started to ruin you with his smile every time he visits the arcade to spend time with his daughter, you decide to try harder to seduce the fuck out of the man. Then hopefully fuck him and stop your heart racing whenever your eyes meet in the middle of neon lights that would make anyone else look atrocious, but not Lee Seokmin.

Though, of course, you need to be subtle enough that Seoyeon doesn’t catch on, but obvious enough that Seokmin can’t ignore you or miss your hints. Which means you gradually start wearing slightly tighter clothes, lower necklines, and bend in his eyeline to give him the best view you possibly can without presenting yourself to him like a bitch in heat in the middle of your family’s arcade.

Sometimes, you notice his eyes lingering on you a fraction darker than his usual gaze, but it never lasts, and he doesn’t make any kind of move or sign otherwise that he’s interested.

Thankfully, you have Skater to encourage you to step up your game, even if the guy would much rather your efforts be turned to him, but he’s far too much of a respectful dude to ever push his own wishes on anyone, especially like this.

“Do it,” Skater says, nudging you away from where you’re both leaning against an out-of-order game in wait for your aunt to arrive to fix it. You’re both in view of the prize desk so Skater can easily see if someone approaches in need of his assistance, but he’s more interested in talking to you than standing alone. Jelly already sent him away from the back office when he tried to convince her to play a fifth round of rock, paper, scissors with him to pass time.

“Bud is literally right there,” you point out in deadpan, motioning to where Seoyeon is standing and watching her dad repeatedly get destroyed in the single-player game he’s been determinedly trying to beat the level of for the past half an hour.

“I’ll distract her,” Skater offers, making you look at him suspiciously.

“What’s in it for you?”

“Can’t a guy want to help his friend get the DILF she’s been thirsting over for the past month?” he asks innocently, even rounding his eyes out. You look at him flatly, not buying his act. He quickly gives and sidles closer to you, playfully tugging on your fingers. “Come to the movie with us after shift?” he requests with a cute grin that you know he doesn’t even need to try hard to put on. The fucker is actually very attractive; if he was older and not your employee, you probably would’ve been interested in him. But he’s 22 and you sign his paycheck, so you have zero interest in him.

“That’s what you want? Me to join your and Nood’s movie date?”

“Yeah! You haven’t gone with us in ages,” he complains, pouting at you. “And he’s bringing someone he met at his dance club, so I’ll be third wheeling.”

“Are you tricking me into a double date?”

“Ew, gross, no, why would I want to date you?” he retorts, making you gasp offendedly and backhand his shoulder. He sniggers and grabs your hand to lightly swing between the two of you; you just let him, not at all opposed to the harmless affection from your friend. “You know I’d never stoop so low as to trick you into dating me. I want it to be real if it ever happens. But I’ll definitely tell everyone you let me put my hand up your shirt in the backrow.” He laughs when you shove him hard enough that he stumbles aside. “Kidding! I’ll say you offered but I said no, and-”

“She’s going to fire you one day,” your aunt— known as Doc for the fact she makes the arcade better when something goes wrong— comments as she approaches from your left, making you look over and grin at her.

“She loves me too much,” Skater responds cheekily. “No Mini-Doc today?” he asks, pouting a little at the lack of your cousin following behind her mum like usual.

“She’s with her mama, doing something I’m apparently not allowed to know,” Doc says, rolling her eyes but she’s smiling fondly, so full of love for her wife and daughter. 

“That sucks, haven’t seen MD in a while,” he admits. “Miss the little cutie.”

“She’s really into How It’s Made at the minute, so she’s been binge watching it lately, plus any show that’s remotely similar,” Doc muses as he nudges you aside to kneel in front of the machine and access the panel after placing her tool bag on the floor at her side within easy reach.

“If I didn’t know she’s adopted, I’d say she very clearly has your blood in her,” you respond, making your aunt huff a laugh while nodding in agreement.

“Oof, your DILF lost again,” Skater comments, making you look over to Seokmin and find him frowning defeatedly at the screen while Seoyeon consolingly pats his arm, then laughs when he stubbornly puts another coin into the machine to restart the game.

“Your what?” Doc sputters, half laughing and half utterly bewildered.

“Sunflower wants Bud’s dad.”

“Right…and Bud is who, exactly?”

“Oh right, you’ve not been around when she’s here,” Skater responds, humming in understanding. “Bud’s that girl over there, her name’s Seoyeon; Flower befriended her like a month ago and she’s a chill kid. We all like her and she’s almost always here after school and on weekends. Her dad joins now.”

“And you want a man with a teen?” your aunt asks, looking up at you questioningly. You look at her and make a face, shrugging. “What does that even mean?”

“He’s really hot,” you state.

Doc looks over at Seokmin consideringly then nods in agreement before turning back to the machine to begin looking inside now that she’s got the panel off, shining a little torch within to light up the inside. “How old is he?”

“42.”

Doc baulks at you. “He’s only 11 years younger than me! That’s 14 years older than you!”

“She likes older guys,” Skater says solemnly.

“You really don’t ever have a chance then,” Doc sniggers then turns back to her task while Skater makes a wounded sound that only makes her snicker again. “Now, both of you get lost so I can focus.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Skater agrees and flings his arm around your shoulders to walk with you over to the father-daughter duo without discussion. “Hey, Bud; hey, Bud’s dad.”

“Hey,” Seokmin responds, glancing over quickly; though upon noticing you, his gaze lingers, catching on the young man’s arm around your shoulders before he smiles at you with less enthusiasm than usual and focuses back on his game.

“While it’s quiet, wanna rematch?” Skater says to Seoyeon, motioning with his free hand over to the basketball hoops. Seoyeon nods enthusiastically and starts to leave but Seokmin makes a betrayed little sound that makes her step back to him.

“You’re leaving me to face this alone?” he asks, frowning at her shortly then looks back at the screen, only to die for the umpteenth time tonight. “Dammit.”

“You know, I’m an expert at this game,” you say, moving closer and making Skater’s arm drop off of your shoulders. Seokmin glances at the retreating limb, then Skater and Seoyeon as they race over to the basketball game before he looks at you properly.

“You’re an expert?” he questions, not doubting you, just curious.

“Mm, I’ve played pretty much every game in here to completion many times, and this particular one has a few little tricks I can teach you. If you’re willing to play with me.”

“I…yeah, I’m willing,” he agrees, voice a little quieter and he nods in agreement.

“It’s the third round you get stuck on, right?” you ask, moving closer to the machine, and Seokmin, to put one of the many coins you keep in the pouch around your hips into the slot, then physically place his hands on the buttons and joystick.

Seokmin yelps and quickly starts to play before he can die less than a second into the game. “Yeah, third round. Probably very lame to you, right?” he chuckles a little self-depreciatively.

“No. Everyone has to start somewhere,” you reassure, gently laying a supportive hand on his arm and resisting the temptation to appreciatively squeeze the strong muscle of his bicep you can feel even without him flexing.

As Seokmin works his way through the first two rounds, you stand close to his side, watching the screen with him while giving him tips on how to get a higher score and keep more lives as he goes.

“Please don’t judge me too harshly if I cry with frustration when I die again,” he requests as the third round loads up. You giggle amusedly and he smiles at you a little too long, long enough that his character almost dies. He yelps when you do upon noticing the danger on screen, then his hands quickly work to save his character. “I always die on this next bit.”

“Ah, yeah, there’s a like, real fucking awkward thing you need to do to clear it easily without going around and taking even longer.”

“You can go around?!” he baulks.

You laugh, nodding. “Here, let me help, it’s too late to avoid it,” you offer as a genius idea forms in your brain. Seokmin makes a curious noise, starting to move his hands but you quickly slip under his arm closest to you to stand directly in front of him with your back to his chest and your hands over his to guide his movements on the controls.

Even though his hands move easily under your touch, you know he tensed as soon as you situated yourself in the small gap between his body and the machine. You’re so close that your hips are almost pressed against it, and his initially brushed your ass, but he moved back slightly. To your great disappointment.

“Are you looking, Mr. Lee?” you ask playfully, leaning back against his chest to allow him to easier see over your shoulder at the buttons. And by buttons you do mean the game buttons, but also the open button of your shirt allowing an incredible view of your cleavage from his vantage point. You really hope he’s taking the chance to look; you chose an uncomfortable push-up bra today just because you hoped he’d enjoy how great it makes your boobs look.

“H-huh?” he responds. “Uhm, ye-yeah, yeah, I’m…looking,” he says, and you feel him shift behind you.

For a split, heart wrenching second, you think he’s going to put more distance between you, but then he subtly presses closer to you and his arms pull in slightly, loosely caging your torso. You think you could be convinced to bend over the machine right here and now and lift your skirt if he asked. You know he won’t, but damn, are you considering how much power he must have in those thick thighs brushing against the back of yours.

It takes everything in you to not screech with excitement at his actions; the silent confirmation that he’s into this, you. You really want to immediately press your ass back against him, but you think that would spook the guy considering that the past weeks of your increasing seductions have only just proved fruitful.

Although you’re more than a little distracted by the feeling of his strong body behind you and his large, warm hands under your own— making you wonder what they’d feel like elsewhere— you diligently guide him through the level until the screen flickers as his character progresses to the next round.

“Yes!” he exclaims excitedly behind you, even bouncing once in his joy and rubbing his body against yours unintentionally—while you wish it’s intentional, but beggars can’t be choosers. “Thank you, Sunflower.”

“You’re welcome,” you say as you slip out from between his arms, making him let out an alarmed little sound.

“Wait, come back,” he requests a little desperately, eyes darting between you and the game as he tries to work through the level, but his character has already died. “See, I can’t do it without you,” he says, landing a pout on you that makes your heart swell in your chest, dangerously threatening to press through your ribs like a cartoon character in its want to reach the man before you.

Clearly, the only option here is to quickly turn things around and wipe that cute pout from his face before he can do real damage. “Oh, I’m sure you can use your fingers in the exact right way,” you coo, making his pout melt away as his eyebrows lift slightly, eyes widening, and posture straightening out of his slightly sulky pout; the suggestion in your words causing him to rise in height, and to the occasion— you’d like to imagine.

“Yeah?” he responds, voice pitched a little lower, quieter; just for the two of you despite the bustle of the arcade around you.

You hum and offer a coin from your pouch. “It’s your turn to do it alone now,” you say as he takes the coin from your fingers, in no rush and letting his skin drag against yours as his gaze remains locked with yours. “Show me what you’ve learned, daddy.” Immediately, Seokmin freezes and his lips pop open, the slight darkness to his gaze abruptly lifting with shock at your words. You just smirk and let your fingers brush his once more before you lower your hand and lean against the machine in wait.

It takes a few long seconds before Seokmin snaps back to reality, swallows thickly with a few subtle nods, and then turns to the machine to slide the coin into the slot with slightly trembling fingers before they find their place on the controls.

With nothing but utter determination on his features, jaw deliciously defined as he clenches it in intense focus, Seokmin flies through not only the first three levels, but the following two, dying at a particularly tricky spot. Though instead of looking defeated or pouting again, he looks at you with big, round eyes; looking so fucking endearing that you don’t have a hope in sweet hell of stopping the racing of your heart.

“Did I do good?” he asks, so soft and innocent, so precious, which only grows when you nod, finding yourself unable to even form a single syllable right now, not when he’s thrown you for such a loop. He beams so bright and proud. “Thank you!”

“You’re welcome,” you manage to mumble out quietly as he straightens and turns to you, looking so happy to be standing before you like this that you know that you’re absolutely fucked; and not in the way you intended. Although you’d still love to be railed within an inch of your life by Lee Seokmin, you also want to hold his warm hands and spend your time making him smile.

“So, the crane machines,” he says, motioning vaguely across the arcade without looking— in the complete wrong direction of the mentioned machines. “Do you have any tricks for those? Seoyeon has her eye on a rabbit plushie, and I’d earn World’s Best Dad if I surprise her with it,” he says with a chuckle around an almost cheeky grin.

“I think you already have it,” you respond without thought, making the man’s eyes widen slightly in surprise, before he looks aside with a shy blush, one hand tugging bashfully on his earlobe as he smiles a little dopily at the floor. “I know some tricks,” you say, making him look back up at you.

Once you’ve led him over to the crane machines— in the correct direction— Seokmin finds the one he needs, and ushers you closer to point out the toy he wants through the glass. When you nod and let him know that you can help him nab it, he lights up and excitedly collects the right number of coins from his pocket to slot into the machine.

Then, to your heart-skipping surprise, he puts one hand on the machine over the buttons, though doesn’t grab the joystick yet and instead looks at you and motions to the space in front of him in invitation, smile still on his face.

As you slot yourself between him and the machine, settling your hands over his once his left is on the joystick, you decide to no longer chase after this man for his body— though you definitely still want that— but for his heart too. It feels right to be tucked up against his chest with his arms around you and mouth murmuring near your ear, joy in his tone as you successfully grasp the right toy.

Right here and now, you decide that you need to adjust your two-step plan. You’re pretty confident that you’ve gained his attention, so part one is complete, but everything after that needs to change with your new goal in mind. Now, there’s something important that you need to do before you can even attempt to make a romantic move on the man, and it’s something you’re determined to do right.

“Earn his trust?” Skater repeats the words you just said to him as you meet outside of work— something you haven’t done in some weeks now.

It’s a weekend, and although you both usually work, you know Seoyeon has gone on a little weekend trip with her dad, so you decided to take the time off. Skater had decided to also take the weekend off and make you go to the mall with him; he hates going alone and doesn’t trust anyone but Noodle and you to actually help him not look like a giant fool where his fashion is concerned.

It’s probably a very misplaced trust, honestly, because he’s currently wearing a neon green hoodie and a tie-dyed beanie combo he's just purchased, and both you and Noodle haven’t told him how ridiculous it is. Then again, he somehow pulls it off, so you think he could probably buy anything and look good. It’s highly unfair.

“What the fuck does that even mean?” he carries on, while you continue to eye his outfit with a slight pout, wishing you could just throw on whatever and look half as good as him. Noodle is doing similarly from your right, but he’s more obvious in his displeasure at his best friend’s effortless style. You know it took Noodle twenty minutes to pick his jeans this morning, because you and Skater had been sitting outside of his apartment in your car for at least that long. But at this point, you’re both used to waiting for him.

“It means that if I want a chance with him past getting freaky in the sheets, then I need to show him that I’m worth his time. That he can rely on me; not just for him, but his daughter too. He’s a father first, daddy second,” you declare.

Both young men look at you in disgust that just makes you cackle a little before nudging them along in the line for the noodle bar that Noodle always makes the three of you eat at when you visit the mall. As if you didn’t eat here last night before going to the cinema with them and Noodle’s new dance club bestie— who insisted on being called Tiger, seeing as you all have your own nicknames, and his eyes sparkled too much in excitement at the thought for you to not go along with it.

“Ignoring that last part, I think you’ve got a good point,” Noodle says, nodding in agreement as his eyes dart between you and the line to make sure he doesn’t lose his place and risk his favourite noodles selling out before he can claim any for himself. “But surely, he already trusts you with Bud? You’ve been watching over her like every day for over a month now.”

“As a friend figure, sure. I just play games with her and keep her occupied, but I need to prove than I can be more than that. I can help her with homework; she’s told me she struggles a lot, and he’s often too busy with work that she doesn’t want to bother him. And I can drop her home sometimes. We exchanged numbers yesterday for Seoyeon’s sake, so I could definitely text him and say I can drive her home so he can go straight home and start dinner or take the chance to relax because she’s with me and I will look after her.”

“Wait, you exchanged numbers?” Skater questions, and you nod.

“For Seoyeon.”

“Right.”

“What?”

“She literally has her own phone; she can just text you herself. You don’t need to swap numbers with him for her sake,” he points out in a deadpan tone with the expression to match.

“Look, I’m pretty sure if it wasn’t for that reason, he’d have never suggested it; don’t ruin this for me, Skate,” you say, pouting slightly, though your eyebrows are furrowed a little sternly. He just holds his hands up, palms to you in defence, and wisely keeps his mouth shut.

At least for a few minutes until you’re almost at the front of the line.

“You should send him a nude,” he says then turns his head to look at you with big, serious eyes. “But send it to me first so I can give approval.”

In sync, you and Noodle shove Skater out of the line while he cackles, so pleased with himself. At least until you both refuse to let him back in the line and he whines all the way to the back.

Sometimes, the littlest victories taste so sweet. Or freshly cooked, while the loser gets the soggy, scraped from the bottom portion. Delicious.

You put your new plan into place the very first day you see Seoyeon after concocting it. As per usual, you ask her about school, and when she complains about the history project that she was told about today and only has two weeks to complete amongst all her other homework, you take her to the snack bar, sit at a table with her, and have her walk you through every piece of homework she currently has on her plate.

To your surprise, Seoyeon doesn’t argue at all, she seems enthusiastic about gaining help and doesn’t hesitate to listen attentively and obediently follow your guidance. Of course, it’s been some years since you were in school, and you definitely can’t recall having to learn all these topics, but those you can at least remember a little, you do your best to help her with.

Slowly, you manage to work through homework for two subjects— with the internet to fill in the gaps in your knowledge— before deciding the rest can wait, and she deserves to play some games.

While she’s putting away everything— after you’ve taken photos of the topics you want to do some research on to help her better tomorrow— the familiar, godly figure of Seokmin approaches, looking a little puzzled as he nears, yet still smiling.

“I think this is the first time I’ve seen you with your bookbag here, Snowdrop,” he muses, alerting his daughter to his presence.

Seoyeon beams at her dad. “Sunflower helped me with my homework!”

“Oh, really?” he asks, looking genuinely surprised as he turns his entire focus to you, making you feel like you’ve melted a little into the seat under his sole attention. “You really helped her?”

“Yeah. She’s here so much that she can’t realistically have time to do it once she gets home, and I’d hate for her to get behind and get in trouble. I thought we could make this a regular thing; get some homework done before gaming,” you say with a shrug, trying to play it off when your heart is skipping over itself in worry that the man might immediately shut this down and say you’re overstepping. If he does that, you know that you’ll never have a chance with him really, and the thought makes your chest ache.

“You don’t have to do that,” he says, looking a little guilty. “You have your own work to be doing; besides, it’s my job as her dad to do those things. I should really be doing it, but I’ve been focused on work and then just spending time with her, and I don’t want to force her to do homework because I know it sucks, and I–”

“Dad, you’re spiralling,” Seoyeon says, making Seokmin cut off and look down at the table as embarrassment colours his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.”

“It’s fine,” you insist, getting up as Seoyeon finishes packing up, so that you can put a gentle hand on Seokmin’s arm, not even paying note to his strength for once; you’re more interested in soothing the man. Your plans really have changed where he’s concerned. “You don’t need to be sorry, Seokmin,” you assure softly. He looks at you without much moving his head, mostly looking at you endearingly through his lashes. It makes your heart skip a beat. “I’m happy to help her. I really like spending time with your daughter; I come to work just to see her and spend time with her sometimes. I’m really more than happy to do my best to assist her with her homework, honest.”

“Oh…” he stares at you consideringly for a moment then lets out a breath and straightens to his natural posture, less slumped and curled in on himself in shame, and more confident, taller; shoulders back but still relaxed. He lifts one hand to place it over yours on his arm and gives you a grateful, tender kind of smile as he squeezes your hand slightly. “Thank you, Sunflower, I really appreciate everything you do for Seoyeon. She really deserves it.”

“Mm, she does. And so do you. If you need help, you can always text me and I’ll do my best.”

“I couldn’t ask you to–”

“You’re not asking, I’m offering,” you correct, voice firm and no-nonsense, yet still gentle in the way you hope to always be for him. Safety and comfort rolled into one. “You’re allowed to have someone to rely on too, Seokmin.”

“I…I am,” he agrees, nodding. “Thank you, really.”

“You’re welcome.” You smile and remove your hand to turn and look at Seoyeon, who’s standing beside the table with her backpack slung over one shoulder, and a strange, considering look on her face as she looks at you and her dad. “What’s the face?”

“I was born with it,” she retorts.

“Hey! That’s my line!” you exclaim, reaching out to prod her, making her giggle before she links her arm with yours and leads you through to the arcade with Seokmin following close behind you both, with a content smile on his face that you fail to notice the fondness in.

“We have to play a round before I go,” Seoyeon insists, leading you to the same game that the two of you always play a round on every single day she visits the arcade. It’s pretty much tradition at this point, so you don’t argue and just slip the coins into the slot and start playing, always so happy to get the privilege of spending time with the girl like this.

Over the past two weeks, it really has become typical for you to drive Seoyeon home from the arcade after school— once you’ve completed some homework and played a few rounds together, of course.

Almost every single school day, you’ve driven her home to give Seokmin time to get home without rush, get started on dinner, and do chores that can’t wait until the weekend. He still stops by sometimes, but he always texts you first to let you know that he plans to pick Seoyeon up himself, so that you don’t take her home while he’s on the way to the arcade.

Unfortunately, it’s the only reason he texts you, but you’ve kind of deluded yourself into thinking of it as some kind of co-parenting thing. You know it’s not, but it makes your heart flutter to think of it that way— even if you know, if anything, you’re just a voluntary babysitter.

Still, despite dropping the teen off for the past two weeks, you’ve never been inside her house until today. Seoyeon’s never invited you in because it hadn’t been the point of driving her home, and you’re always perfectly okay with that and expect nothing else.

Today, however, Seoyeon arrives at the arcade after school looking miserable, and you quickly realise that she’s got a cold, so you insist on taking her home so that she can rest. It goes to show how bad she feels that she doesn’t argue at all and just quietly waits at the prize desk for you to be ready, while holding the plushie Skater had given her for comfort as soon as you told him she’s ill.

Of course, you text Seokmin to let him know, and also ask permission to go inside and watch over her until he’s home before heading off. Instead of texting back, he calls five minutes later when you’re driving, so Seoyeon puts your phone on speaker for you.

“Hey, I’m driving right now, so you’re on speaker,” you announce in greeting, always wanting to be upfront with others if the call is audible to others; you’d want the same basic respect to be granted to you, after all.

“Ah, okay. Thank you for driving Seoyeon home,” Seokmin replies, voice a little quiet and low, as if he’s trying not to be heard by other people; you assume he’s with clients and has stepped out to call you quickly in private. “I’ll try to finish up here quickly and get home; you probably have to get back to work yourself and–”

“Nope. I’m done for the day now. I have no plans but to make sure Seoyeon is tucked up at home resting. Do you mind if I make some soup?”

“Oh…you’d really do that?”

“Of course. I’m great at soup!”

“I’d really appreciate that, Sunflower. Use whatever you need and let me know if you need me to pick up anything on the way home. We should have meds, but I’m not sure if there’s that many. We probably need more.”

“I’ll text you anything you’re low on and she needs.”

“Great. Thank you,” he says, letting out a big, grateful exhale. “I owe you big time.”

“Nah, it’s just what friends do, right?”

“I guess so,” he hums before his tone turns softer, even sweeter. “Sweetheart, do you want me to pick up anything on the way home?”  For a split, utterly delusional moment, you think he’s still talking to you, but then you quickly remind yourself to rein in the wishful thinking and face the reality that he’s talking to his daughter, not you.

“Ice cream?” Seoyeon requests a little hoarsely, making you frown sympathetically. “My throat hurts.”

“Okay, Snowdrop; ice cream, and honey tea,” Seokmin decides, making Seoyeon whine in complaint. “I know you don’t like honey tea, but it’s good for your throat.” Seoyeon doesn’t respond, just pouts, and you assume he must know that she’s likely to do that because he doesn’t wait long for a response, knowing he won’t gain one. “My meeting is scheduled for another almost two hours, I’m afraid. But I will get through it as quick as possible and be home as soon as I can.”

“Okay,” Seoyeon croaks. “See you soon.”

“Mm, see you soon. Rest lots and be good for Sunflower.”

“She always is,” you assure. “Don’t worry about Seoyeon; I’ve got this. You focus on your meeting and get back when you can. We’ll be waiting, so will soup.”

Seokmin chuckles. “I look forward to seeing you both, and soup, of course.”

After a final round of farewells, the call ends and you finish the drive in a calm quiet.

As soon as you and Seoyeon step into the Lee house, you send her off to get into comfy pyjamas. Once you’ve watched her trek up the stairs— to make sure she doesn’t fall down them in her groggy state— you familiarise yourself with the ground floor of the house, then head the kitchen to get started on making— what you hope— will be the most healing soup Seoyeon has ever consumed. You genuinely hate seeing her so under the weather like this; it makes your heart ache and fills you with the urge to do whatever you can to make her feel even a little bit better.

When Seoyeon joins you again, she’s dressed in pyjamas so soft and cosy that you immediately ask her where she got them so that you can get yourself a pair, earning an amused, though snuffy giggle.

“Feeling a bit more human now you’re in cosy clothes, not your uniform?” you ask, gently brushing her hair back from her forehead so that you can feel her temperature, while your other hand stirs the contents of the pan on the hob before you, even if your eyes are on her.

“Bit,” she agrees with a nod.

“I found meds,” you inform, removing your hand from her warm skin to point to the counter behind you. Seoyeon automatically looks over, then toddles the few steps to obediently take the medication laid out for her beside a glass of water. “And I text your dad to pick up some more, and orange juice. I always get a craving for oranges when I’m ill, and juice is easier than chewing when your noise is stuffy.”

“Dad always gives me orange juice when I’m ill, for the vitamin c.”

“Great minds think alike,” you joke, wiggling your eyebrows at the teen, making her laugh, though break into a few coughs that makes you frown in sympathy. “Why don’t you go get all snug on the sofa? Put on a movie and I’ll join you soon.”

“Oh…Can…Can we watch Toy Story?” she requests shyly, making you tilt your head slightly in question. “Just…it’s…We always watch it when one of us are ill; it’s kind of tradition.”

“Oh. Don’t you want to wait for your dad?” Seoyeon’s face falls a little. “I’m happy to watch it, seriously; I love that movie. But I don’t want to take something special from you if it’s something you do with your dad, Bud.”

“Ah, I suppose,” she agrees quietly, nodding in understanding. “Do you have a movie you watch when you’re ill?”

“Beauty and The Beast,” you answer without hesitation.

“I’m going to watch that,” she decides with another nod, then turns and toddles into the living room with her glass of water before you can say anything in response. Not that you have anything to say, just a smile full of fondness for the girl on your face even as you turn back to cooking.

It’s a little more than two hours since ending the phone call with Seokmin that he enters the house, rustling with the bags in his hands, and calling out to say he’s home, concern in his voice.

“In here!” Seoyeon calls back, sounding a fair amount better now that she’s had some meds, soup, and dozed against your shoulder for the last half an hour of Beauty and the Beast. She’s much more alert now yet still tucked up against you and seeming more than content to remain as she is. Honestly, you don’t want to move either; it’s far too nice.

“Oh,” Seokmin says as he steps into view, both shopping bags in one hand and expression turning soft as it lands on the two of you. “You two look…” he doesn’t finish his words, but his smile somehow grows a little more tender. “I’ll put this away, make your tea, and then–”

“I can do it,” you offer, beginning to remove your arm from around Seoyeon, unaware that she’s pouting as you do, your attention on Seokmin. “I’ll handle that and you can go get out of your work clothes.”

“No, no, you stay there,” Seokmin insists, waving his hands at you. “You both look comfy and I refuse to let you move. Stay,” he demands, pointing at you and looking suddenly stern in a way you hadn’t even thought his features could grow, voice firm and no-nonsense.

Obediently, you settle back into place, eyes a little wide and you’re pretty sure very obvious that you’re a little…into being told what to do by the man. Seokmin’s head tilts almost imperceptibly as he considers your reaction before his lips tilt into a hint of a smirk. He doesn’t say or do anything more before turning and going to the kitchen.

“Will you stay to watch Toy Story with us?” Seoyeon requests as she begins to search for the movie on the streaming app on the TV.

“Do you want me to?” you ask, turning your head just enough to look at her. She nods, still looking at the TV. “Then of course I’ll stay.” Seoyeon looks at you, smiling so genuinely happy at your agreement that you know you’ll never be able to reject her requests to spend time together, not when you know it makes her eyes shine like this.

A little under twenty minutes later, Seokmin is back, dressed in his own comfy pyjamas, hair damp, and skin shiny and tinted red from the quick shower he just had to wash the day of work away. He’s got a bowl in one hand, and a mug in the other, which he hands to Seoyeon. The teen groans in complaint, but she begrudgingly accepts the mug to sip at the contents while her dad sits on her right side, an amused little smile on his face from her reaction.

“How you feeling now, Snowdrop?” Seokmin asks as he settles comfortably in his place, pulling his bowl closer and gently stirring the steaming contents within. Your stomach warms strangely as you realise that he’s about to try your cooking for the first time; you hope he likes it and will let you cook for him again one day.

“Better than earlier, still not great,” Seoyeon answers honestly, lips protruding into a displeased pout above her mug. You notice Seokmin’s expression match it despite the fact he’s not even looking at her, upset because his daughter is, and it makes you smile to yourself to see the care— and similarities— between the father-daughter duo.

“I’ll get you some ice-cream after I’ve eaten this.”

“It’s really good; Sunflower’s a really good cook.”

“It smells delicious,” Seokmin enthuses, eyes glued to the soup and looking far more excited than anyone should be about a very basic vegetable soup. Both you and Seoyeon watch as he blows on his first spoonful carefully before tentatively putting it in his mouth, cautious of the heat. It takes a second for him to register the food in his mouth properly before he makes a pleased, enthusiastic hum of a sound and dives in for more. “It is really good. You’ll have to give me the recipe, Sunflower.”

“I just threw things together,” you admit with a soft laugh, which grows when he levels you a surprised look.

“No secret family recipe?” he questions, tone light and playful.

“If it was a secret family recipe, I couldn’t exactly tell you, could I?” you joke back with a grin.

“Ah, I suppose not,” he agrees with a laugh. “Unless I adopt you.” Immediately, your expression twists in disgust and his smile drops. “Hey! I’m a great dad!”

“I’m aware,” you respond, nodding a little. “I just really do not want that at all. Plus, you’re not that much older than me!” you point out.

“I’m 14 years older than you,” he deadpans. “Over a decade.”

“And? That means nothing.”

Seokmin’s expression does something odd now; turns considering with a hint of something you can’t name but really wish you could. It feels important and you can’t help but hold his gaze as you try to figure it out, aware that his eyes are growing more intense with every passing moment and thought flicking behind them.

If it wasn’t for Seoyeon speaking up after a few moments, you get the feeling neither you nor Seokmin would’ve looked away, and that intensity would’ve only grown to something you really hope to experience one day— just preferably when his daughter isn’t literally sitting right between you.

“Can we watch Toy Story now?” she asks, looking between you and her dad with big eyes.

Seokmin immediately drags his gaze away from you and looks down into the space between you to smile obligingly at his daughter. “Of course, Snowdrop.”

The three of you get comfy facing the TV and settle down to fulfil a Lee house ill-day tradition. You hope that it’s only the start of being invited to join family traditions with the pair. You’d really like that.

Thankfully, Seoyeon isn’t ill for long, but she does pass it on to her dad, so you take up driving her home straight from school the few days Seokmin is curled up in bed fighting the bug. Although he had tried to insist he can still cook and look after the house on the first day, you had promptly ordered him back to bed, put dinner on to cook, then went out to get more meds as he hadn’t anticipated getting ill himself when he bought them for Seoyeon a handful of days before he fell ill. 

Seokmin doesn’t seem to mind that you take up spending the evenings in his living room with Seoyeon— doing your best to help her with homework. Then again, he doesn’t surface past the first time you sent him swiftly back to bed upon seeing his red nose and watery eyes. You do, however, make sure to send Seoyeon up to check on him routinely. You’d do it yourself, but you think that’s probably a step too far, and then he’d definitely kick you out for entering his private room uninvited.

It's Sunday by the time you see Seokmin again, when he joins you and Seoyeon in the kitchen as you both try to figure out how to work the mini candyfloss machine that you bought on a whim at the supermarket that morning while stocking up on groceries for both households.

“What’s that?” Seokmin asks, drawing both of your attention. He’s standing at the kitchen doorway, looking almost like the man you’re used to. You know, other than the fact he’s in a plain white t-shirt and shorts of all things. Thankfully, he’s focused on the machine on the counter as he nears, because your own focus is a lot lower, stuck to his gloriously thick thighs and wondering if maybe you’re the ill one now and this is some kind of fever induced hallucination. Those thighs cannot be real.

“Candyfloss machine,” Seoyeon answers, flapping the manual in his direction, making him pluck it from her fingers to begin to read the page she has it open on. “The instructions are worded really weird.”

“Mm, they are,” he agrees, eyebrows furrowing as he tries to focus, and yet still, you’re gawping at his thighs.

Somehow, the father-daughter duo doesn’t notice your obvious staring of the man’s delicious thighs, and you manage to snap out of your horny-daze all on your own.

Between the three of you, you manage to decode the ridiculous manual and produce three wild— and wildly pathetic— sticks of candyfloss. There’s more of the treat covering the machine, counters, and the three of you than the sticks, but you’re all laughing, and although you know this will be quite the clean up, you don’t care. You’re already planning to search online for different coloured and flavoured sugars to try next week with the hope of making the pair look as happy as they do right now.

Honestly, now that Seokmin and Seoyeon are both back to full health and there’s no reason for you to spend so much time at their house, you keep expecting Seokmin to politely tell you to fuck off home. You know Seoyeon won’t, because she’s always so happy to have you around; both to just hang out, and because since you’ve started to do homework with her, she’s been less behind at school and doesn’t struggle as much.

Yet every time you drive Seoyeon home on days Seokmin doesn’t pick her up— or join her at the arcade if it’s a weekend—, she still invites you in and you’re still there hours later. You only leave when she’s gone off to bed and you’ve finished cleaning up whatever the two of you have used, and Seokmin always walks you to the door.

Tonight is no different; Seoyeon went up to bed ten minutes ago and now you’re finishing cleaning the kitchen counters so that Seokmin doesn’t have to do it. Though he’s right behind you, loading the last dishes into the dishwasher. It’s so fucking domestic it makes you want to scream. But in a good way. And kind of a horny way. But mostly a wholesome, yearning sort of way.

“You know, Seoyeon’s teacher called me today,” Seokmin starts, making you immediately drop the cloth in your hand to spin and look at him. He’s already leaning back against the counter and facing you; arms crossed casually across his chest and a little smile on his face. It makes you relax, understanding that it can’t be bad if he’s still got that natural little smile he always wears on his face.

“Is that normal? Random calls?” you ask, still a little worried though, because you’re always worried about Seoyeon where her schooling is concerned. You know she really struggles with most of her lessons except creative ones. She excels in art, but everything else isn’t easy for her and the school only helps so much.

Seoyeon still doesn’t have any friends either and you worry she is isolated socially. Though she has mentioned a few classmates a handful of times, but you know she doesn’t consider them friends, just nicer classmates who are willing to talk to her and work with her despite her being at the bottom of the class academically. At the very least, she doesn’t seem to get picked on for being quiet and behind compared to the rest of the class. Still, you always worry that one day she’ll come home in tears and admit she’s been hiding it, or that things have changed for the worst.

Seokmin nods in answer to your question. “She’s still the newest student, and well, you know she struggles academically and hasn’t really made any friends, so the staff keep a close eye on her.”

“Ah, I see. I’m glad they care enough to do that.”

“Me too,” he agrees, smile lifting a little more. “It’s a really good school; supportive and everything about these things. They just don’t have the staff to give her more focus to help with her studies, and I don’t want to make her go to catch up clubs; I know she’d hate them.”

“She would. I think you’re doing the right thing by her, even if the school probably tries to guilt you into thinking otherwise.”

“Oh, you do?” His tone softens and his arms unfold to slide down to hang by his sides as he looks at you in a touched kind of way. You nod. “Thank you, that means a lot to me. They have bugged me about sending her to clubs, and even changing her to a different class, but then she’d be with younger students and held back a year and I really don’t want her to go through that. Especially not now that she’s settled and gotten used to her classmates and routine.”

“She’d be right back where she started.”

He hums and nods. “Exactly. I’m really glad you agree and I have your support with this. And that Seoyeon does too. That’s actually what the call was about.”

You give him a bewildered look and point to yourself. “Me? It was about me?”

“Well, technically, yes,” he confirms with a chuckle. “More like how much better Seoyeon is doing lately. Ever since you started to do homework with her, she’s picked up a lot more. Her classwork is improving and she’s more confident now; she raised her hand for the first time today to ask a question! She’s never asked for clarification before, especially not in front of the whole class.”

“Oh, she did?” you ask, lifting your hands to press one against your suddenly warm heart. Hearing that the shy, anxious girl felt brave enough to push past her fear of drawing attention to her struggles really makes your chest feel so full.

You know it’s a little thing to most, something that a lot of kids start doing in their first years of school, but you’re so proud of Seoyeon that you wish she was still downstairs so that you could give her a giant hug. You know bringing attention to her act could potentially lead to her retreating and not raising her hand in class again, so you wouldn’t mention it, just hold her and hopefully silently let her know how much you care about her.

“That… I really want to hug her right now,” you admit, making Seokmin laugh softly. “I’m so proud of her.”

“I get it, I want to squeeze her and smother her in praise, but it’s probably better to not mention it in case she gets embarrassed about her teacher calling me to say that.”

“Oh, yeah, for sure,” you agree. “I’m going to have to squeeze a pillow when I get home instead.”

“Or…” Seokmin says, suddenly talking quieter, almost timid as he pushes off of the counter and takes a step towards you. “You can hug me?” he offers, giving you a shy smile as he opens his arms to the side a little in invitation.

“Hug you?” you repeat dumbly, staring up at him with big, surprised eyes.

He nods a little jerkily. “If–if you want to. If you’re comfort–” before he’s even finished, you step forward into his space. It’s Seokmin’s eyes that widen now. It seems like he hadn’t expected you to accept his offer. Though he doesn’t move away, doesn’t take it back, so you move even closer and carefully wrap your arms around his waist. A little stiltedly, Seokmin’s arms close around you, enveloping your body in a warmth and comfort you never want to let go of.

You really don’t know if you’ll ever get another chance to be held by Seokmin, so you decide to take full advantage of the moment and tuck up against his chest. You rest your head on his shoulder and just enjoy it while you can.

When Seokmin moves, you’re expecting him to let go, to remove your arms from him and politely tell you that he’s not comfortable with that kind of affection from you; that you’ve gone too far, and he would like it if you don’t touch him again. As much as you don’t want him to say any of that— even knowing he’d be so fucking gentle and considerate about it, because that’s just the kind of man he is— you’re as ready for it as you can be; ready to remove your arms and kiss goodbye to any miniscule chance of getting to ever kiss him.

What you aren’t ready for, however, is for Seokmin’s arms to not fall away, but tighten. For him to not step back, but closer. For him to do anything but curl down to rest his head against yours and let out a breath as if he’s been waiting for this moment. For this comfort. You don’t know if he’s just missed having this kind of affection with another adult, or if it’s because it’s you he’s holding in his arms like you belong there, but you let your delusions win out this time and pretend that it’s the second option.

Time ceases to exist, ceases to have meaning as you stand motionlessly in the kitchen holding one another. You think you could be happy doing nothing but this for the rest of your life. But there’s truth to the saying ‘all good things must end’, and slowly, Seokmin’s hold loosens, silently telling you that it’s time to let go now.

The two of you unwind your arms from one another and take a step back to put a more respectable distance between you, though you notice that it’s not as respectable as it could be. Seokmin hasn’t gone far or prompted you to move further, so you lift your gaze to look at him, only to find him already looking down at you.

There’s something in the air between you, something that slips under your skin and fills your chest, makes your heart race thickly with anticipation and hope.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Seokmin’s right arm lift, though you don’t look at it, don’t dare break the locked gaze; it feels too important. Still, you’re so aware of it raising in your peripheral. Of his fingers extending a little. Of him reaching out. Yet, he doesn’t touch.

Seokmin drops his arm just as his fingers are about to brush your cheek, so close that you can already almost feel his touch. He steps back and breaks the eye contact, turning instead back to the dishwasher to turn it on while you can only stare at his back, your chest tight and heart aching.

You make sure to gather yourself and turn before he does, so that you can finish wiping down the side and focus on something other than that it feels like rejection despite the fact you hadn’t done anything.

Like every night, Seokmin walks you to the door when you leave. Like every night, he thanks you for coming over and being so helpful to his little family. Like every night, he remains at the door to watch you get in your car and drive away. But for the first time, you don’t have a content little smile on your face, only a frown as you try to understand what happened tonight.

Sometimes, your parents like to suggest that you should really get some new friends— ones you don’t work with, namely— and you always dismiss the suggestion and assure them that you’re more than content with the friends you do have. However, it’s times like this when you reluctantly think there’s some merit to your parents’ words.

“Forget about him! I’ll adopt a cat and be a DILF instead!” Skater exclaims, waving his beer bottle around where he’s half melded with his favourite beanbag in his apartment— an apartment he shares with Noodle, of course.

You’ve just told the pair what happened the other night with you and Seokmin; how you could’ve sworn he was reaching out to caress your cheek, to lean in and claim your lips for his own. Yet, he didn’t and turned away and if nothing had happened. Of course, nothing had happened, but you really fucking wanted it to.

Noodle is still nibbling on his last slice of pizza like a tipsy little mouse. You can’t tell if he keeps forgetting that he’s in the midst of eating as the three of you talk and joke around, or if he’s just genuinely savouring the fancy, stone baked pizza from the fancy Italian restaurant. At least most of it, because you know that as soon as he’s finished taking his tiny little bites of the middle and topping, he’ll pass the crust to Skater, who will eat it without complaint. You’ve witnessed this very routine many times over the years, but only with this specific restaurant’s pizza, despite the crust genuinely being delicious; part of you has a feeling it’s more to do with the fact that Skater weirdly loves the crust than Noodle not liking it.

“CILF,” Noodle mumbles, making you and Skater glance at him, then crack up at his half dazed, yet semi-serious expression; eyes unfocused as he stares blankly ahead. “Huh?” he asks after blinking himself back to reality and straightening up where he’s sitting cross legged on the other end of the sofa to you.

“You’re so cute, Nood,” you coo, reaching over to ruffle his hair. He just grins at you, then returns to imitating a pizza-loving mouse.

“Back to Bud’s dad being a fucking idiot,” Skater decides, making you both look at him and find him frowning a little. “What kind of a man, no, what kind of a person wouldn’t kiss you given the chance?!”

“Me,” Noodle declares.

“You’re barely a person,” Skater dismisses while waving a hand vaguely. Noodle immediately throws the last of his pizza— essentially just crust now— at his best friend. It thwacks Skater in the face, and both you and Noodle burst into laughter. Instead of retaliating, Skater just takes it as a flying food gift and picks the crust up from where it fell onto his partially reclined torso to shove half of it straight into his mouth.

“He’s right though,” you decide, looking at Noodle, who looks at you in betrayal. “You’re probably like 80% noodle at this point.”

Noodle laughs as he nods. “You’re right.”

“What’s the other 20?” Skater ponders aloud. “At least 18% dance.”

“I think I’m more dance than that,” Noodle offers.

“He’s right,” you agree. “Okay, let’s say…70% noodle, 20% dance, and 10% thighs and ass.”

“Have you been looking at his ass?!” Skater exclaims indignantly while Noodle just cackles away, pleased with your decision and finding his best friend hilarious as he goes on a rant about how it’s unfair that you don’t look at his ass.

You don’t correct Skater that you have— and still do— look at his ass when it’s in your line of sight; you think it’s funnier watching him whine and turn his big babyboy eyes on you as he tries to convince you to check out his ass— and whole body— every time you see him, for the sake of his wounded ego.

The topic of the last time you saw Seokmin doesn’t come up for the rest of the night and part of you regrets it the next morning, because now you’re no closer to figuring out what the fuck happened and what you’re supposed to do about it.

But mostly, you’re just glad you got to spend time with the pair and are reminded exactly why you tell your parents that you’re happy with the friends you have.

Although you don’t want to admit it, you’ve come to understand that you must’ve been wrong about Seokmin’s interest in you. You’ve seen him multiple times since that night in his kitchen, and despite him being his usual friendly self, there’s something that flickers in his eyes when he looks at you. Something that looks hesitant, worried almost, and your chest aches as you consider that he doesn’t know how to act with you now.

You think that either he regrets the tension in his kitchen that night, that he regrets trying to reach out; or he realised in that moment how much you want him, and he hadn’t understood before that you no longer just want to have sex with him. Maybe he only wants meaningless sex, but you’ve ruined it by gaining feelings for him, and he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he’s trying to figure out how to let you down easy or put a boundary up between you.

As much as Seokmin doesn’t want to hurt you, you don’t want to hurt him either or put him in an uncomfortable position; so, you back off a little.

Of course, you don’t stop spending time with the Lee family. You still drive Seoyeon home a few times a week and stay to help her with her homework and hang out. You still text Seokmin to ask if they need anything from the store while you’re doing your own shopping. You still joke with him and keep a friendly relationship. But that’s as far as you go.

You no longer make suggestive jokes that he doesn’t always catch but always looks at you in slight disbelief when he does, as if he can’t believe you’ve said that. You no longer let your hand linger over his a second too long when passing him items. You no longer look at him with adoration in your gaze and heart beating wildly when you admire him smiling with his daughter.

You’re doing all you can to put a respectable emotional distance between you, to just be his friend. Even if it’s one of the hardest things you’ve ever done. But if that’s what you need to do to be able to remain in the lives of the father-daughter duo for a long time, you’ll do it and hope for nothing more. Even if it hurts.

One night, just as you’re about to leave the Lee house after the usual routine of helping Seokmin clean up, the doorbell rings. Seokmin chuckles as you immediately step backwards from the door, lowering your hand from where you had been inches from grasping the handle, and instead motion him to it.

As he opens the door, you remain behind it out of sight in wait for his visitor to leave so that you can take your own leave. You probably could’ve just stepped out and let him greet his visitor then, but it hadn’t occurred to you until now and Seokmin doesn’t seem bothered that you’re behind the door, so you don’t feel bad about it.

Though you do feel awkward very quickly when you tune into the conversation that you had purposely not paid attention to for privacy’s sake, when you hear him chuckle awkwardly. Now, you can hear that his visitor is a woman and, judging by her tone, she’s flirting and flirting hard.

Curious about the woman— who Seokmin clearly knows judging by how easily they converse, even if he’s awkwardly avoiding the flirtations, much to your relief— you cautiously move aside a little to peer through the gap above the door hinge to get a glimpse of the visitor.

You have to admit, she’s really pretty. The kind of pretty that would look perfectly at place hanging off of one of Seokmin’s strong arms. Visually, the pair really suit each other, they even seem of similar age, and it makes an irrational little flicker of insecurity appear in your chest. Clearly, Seokmin has no interest in this woman— though she doesn’t seem to get the hint— so what hope does that give you if he won’t give this well-matched woman a chance.

Thankfully, Seokmin manages to politely end the conversation shortly, and instead of keeping the door open to let you leave as the woman walks away, he shuts the door and leans his forehead against it with a heavy exhale.

“She’s pretty,” you comment without thought, making him tilt his head to look at you questioningly.

“She is,” he confirms as if it’s simple fact, an easy observation and nothing more than that. Like saying a flower is pretty. Actually, you’ve heard him compliment flowers much more enthusiastically than this.

“She clearly likes you,” you say, wishing you would shut up but unable to stop the words coming out as he straightens and turns to face you properly. “But you…don’t seem interested in her.”

“I’m not,” he says immediately, voice unwavering in a way that almost makes you think he’s making sure you know that. That he has no interest in that woman whatsoever, nor will he. But you don’t let yourself think that. You can’t let that hope return to your chest, even if the hole it left behind those weeks ago aches every time you see him.

“Why not?”

“What?” He frowns at you in bewilderment. “Do I need a specific reason?”

“No, sometimes you just don’t like people and that’s fine,” you assure with a little nod. “I’m just…wondering. Like, haven’t you even entertained the thought of a date with her?”

“No. She’s my neighbour and she’s away for work a lot, and from what she says, it’s often last minute.”

“Oh, you want to know your partner is there.”

“Not for me, well, not really.” He sighs softly then glances at his watch before chewing on his lip nervously while returning his gaze to you. “Do you need to get home right now? Can you stay for a bit?”

“Oh…you want me to stay?” you question surprised.

“There’s something I’d like to talk to you about. It’s…important.”

“Oh, okay,” you agree and remove your shoes to place neatly on the place on the low rack— a place that used to house a spare pair of Seokmin’s dress shoes, but you haven’t seen those in a while and there is always a gap for your shoes now. You try not to think of the potential fact that Seokmin purposely put his shoes away in his room to make space for yours. A space for you.

Seokmin is in the kitchen when you enter the living room, and you can hear the kettle boiling, so you take a seat on the sofa and wait.

Minutes later, Seokmin joins you, placing two mugs down on the coasters still in place on the coffee table from your drinks earlier. His mug has a photo of baby Seoyeon printed on, a little worn with use, but still treasured. Your mug is new, newer than even your presence in the house; it’s dotted with sunflowers and yellow love hearts.

“So, uhm, has Seoyeon ever mentioned her mother?” he asks once he’s settled, leaning his right side against the back of the sofa so that he’s facing you, with his right arm braced on the back rest, and his right leg bent, foot tucked behind his left knee.

“Not once,” you answer honestly. It’s genuinely never occurred to you to question it either; sometimes it’s just better to not ask where missing parents are.

“I’m not surprised, she hasn’t mentioned her for a long time, since she was really little and before she understood what happened. But I just wondered; in case she mentioned something to you. I know she tells you pretty much everything, so it might’ve come up, or maybe you got curious.”

“I mean, yeah, I’ve been curious, but it’s not my business. If either of you want me to know, you’ll tell me without being prompted to,” you respond with a shrug.

“I really appreciate that. So many people hear that I’m a single parent and assume her mother died when Seoyeon was young, because obviously, that’s the only reason a mother wouldn’t be around,” he says with a sarcastic note to his voice, rolling his eyes a little too. You hum softly, letting him know that you understand what he means, even if not on a personal level. “She left us,” he says bluntly, making your eyebrows raise a little, more surprised about how he got right to the point. “She suddenly decided that she doesn’t want children when Seoyeon was only 4 months old.”

“What the fuck? She didn’t know that before?” you question flabbergasted.

“That’s the thing,” he says, sighing heavily. “It wasn’t like Seoyeon was a happy little accident; we planned for her. We got married at 22 and agreed to make sure we were completely financially stable before even thinking about extending our family. Then we were, and she said she wasn’t ready. So, we waited, and waited, and one day she told me she was ready. We planned everything; gave her time to be certain before she even stopped taking birth control. She seemed so excited and happy throughout the pregnancy too. I still don’t understand, and I don’t think I ever will, honestly.”

“That must’ve broken your heart,” you comment softly, sympathetically.

“It did,” he confirms with an almost sad little smile, but it doesn’t last, as if he was just being sympathetic to his memories and doesn’t truly hurt over it anymore. “But I wasn’t going to force her to stay. I didn’t want Seoyeon to grow up raised by a mother who doesn’t want her. So, we divorced and I had her sign full custody to me. She has no rights over my daughter and never will.”

“Good, she doesn’t deserve to be in Seoyeon’s life. Seoyeon deserves nothing but the best; to be loved until she bursts with it.”

Seokmin’s lips lift into a soft kind of smile as he nods in agreement to your words, gentle gaze glued to you and making a riot of your heart. “She really does. She always comes first, and I refuse to bring someone into her life who won’t be there for her.”

“Ah,” you say, understanding his lack of interest in his neighbour now. “I get it. I’d want the same for her if I were you.”

“I’m glad you agree,” he says softly, lowering his gaze to find your hands where they’re laid loosely on your lap. His hand on his own lap twitches a little, and for a second, you think he’s going to reach out to take your hand into his hold, but he presses his palm to his thigh and looks back up at you. “She’s never had a mother figure, so I don’t want to ever rush into things with someone if I’m not positive they’ll be around and willing to one day be a kind of mum to her. I wouldn’t expect it right away, of course, but I’m 42, Seoyeon is 14; we’re both too old to not be serious about who I bring into our family.”

“I understand.”

“You do?” He straightens a little and you nod at him.

“Yeah. You both deserve someone who is secure in where they are in life and knows where they want to go too. I…I hope you find that,” you say, wishing you could tell him that you’d be willing to fulfil that role right now, but you don’t want to push him when he needs to be ready on his own to open his heart to you. You don’t know if he ever will be, but that traitorous little hole in your chest fills slightly as a little hope slots back into place.

You hope that you’ve been proving yourself to him; that you’re more than willing to look after Seoyeon and stick around as much as she wants you to, no matter what happens between you and Seokmin. You hope that he understands that, but you’re really not sure and decide to just be patient and wait for the day he lets you know one way or the other.

Before you know it, the summer holidays come around, and you see less of Seoyeon. Due to schools being closed for the holidays and tourists popping up, Rainy Days Arcade faces a much higher level of foot traffic. Which, unfortunately, means that you don’t have as much time while at work to spend with Seoyeon, nor can you leave work early to drive her home.

Although she does still visit, it’s not often and not for long, not wanting to get caught up in the bustle of the arcade— even Skater can’t keep her company at the prize desk, and she gets mistaken for an employee when she sits there so often that she doesn’t want to risk it. You don’t blame her for picking her nice, quiet house over the hectic summer season of the arcade.

Every time you have a day off though— which is rare in the summer— you make sure to call her up to hang out, either at her house, or you’ve taken on going for drives to various places. Sometimes you just spend hours driving, listening to music, and stopping only so she can take photos, or for toilet breaks. You even bought her a travel painting kit, so on days you tell her you’ve packed a picnic, she brings the kit and the two of you sit on a blanket for hours as she contently paints, humming along to the music playing through your Bluetooth speaker.

Even though you know today will be a busy day at the arcade as it’s a Wednesday and they’re always busy, you have the day off. It’s not through choice, but a strict rule at Rainy Days Arcade where no-one can work on their birthday. So, of course, you plan to take advantage of that fact, and after responding to the barrage of birthday wishes in the work group chat, you message Seoyeon to check if she’s busy.

It doesn’t take long for her to excitedly agree to hang out, and add that her dad has today off too, so he can join!

You haven’t really seen much of Seokmin lately, even rarer than Seoyeon, but he does pop by on his own sometimes on his way home from work, to say hi and make sure you’re looking after yourself. You never point out that he can just text you to do that; you like seeing his handsome face too much to ever refuse his presence.

And today is no exception. You respond to Seoyeon just as enthusiastically to let her know you’ve still got to get ready, but you can come pick them up in half an hour. Moments later, she says they’ll come pick you up instead and her dad will drive; at his own insistence so that you can be the passenger princess for once. Thinking of Seokmin calling you princess, even indirectly, makes you giggle dopily before simply agreeing, then you rush off to get showered and dressed.

As soon as you step out of your front door and onto the exterior landing, you spot Seokmin’s car in the parking lot, a level below you. He must spot you too, because as you lock your door, he gets out of the driver’s seat and walks around to the passenger door in wait.

The moment you’re close enough to the car a minute later, Seokmin opens the door with a flourish, bowing at you. “Your carriage awaits,” he says, making you giggle.

“Why, thank you,” you respond with a curtsy, playing along without hesitation, making him grin at you. He offers his hand to help you into the car, then shuts the door and rushes around to the driver’s side as you turn in your seat to greet Seoyeon in the back. She’s already got her camera in her hands and lifts it to take a photo of you. You’re far used to it by now to do anything other than grin at her. When Seokmin is seated, he turns and grins too, making Seoyeon giggle and take a few photos of the both of you cheesing at her from the front seats.

“So, where to?” Seokmin asks once you’re both turned around and strapped in securely, as he starts the car back up.

“East,” Seoyeon declares, earning a questioning look from her dad. “What?”

“That’s very vague,” he points out.

“We rarely have a specific destination in mind when we go on drives,” you explain, making Seokmin hum in understanding and start to drive.

As the car reaches the end of the lot and he has to make a turn, he hesitates. “Do either of you have a compass on you?” he asks, making you and Seoyeon both giggle amusedly.

“Just go right,” you say.

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees, sending a lick of heat into your stomach as he obeys your directions without hesitation.

You can’t help but wonder if he’s always so obedient; you remember how sweet he looked that day when you taught him how to play the game and he asked if he did a good job. You bet he’d look even better looking up at you from between your thighs as he asks for praise for doing such a good job.

Thankfully— or unfortunately, because it’s a really fucking good mental image—, Seokmin talks again, pulling you out of your thoughts and back to reality. The reality where he’s driving the car at your side and his daughter is in the backseat behind you both. “Have you eaten? We were thinking of stopping for breakfast pretty quickly. But we can get something to eat in the car.”

“There’s this really good place at the edge of town; On the Edge Café,” you inform. “Have you been?”

“No, but I remember passing it a few times. We can definitely go there.”

“Sound good, Bud?” you ask, peering over your shoulder at Seoyeon, who just nods in agreement. “We have approval,” you announce, making Seokmin chuckle as he smoothly switches lanes ready for the upcoming turn.

“I’ve been meaning to ask about that,” he comments in a thoughtful tone. “I’ve noticed you and the arcade staff all call her Bud. I thought it was just like buddy at first, but it seems more like a standalone nickname.”

“Ah, it’s a bit of both really. It’s short for buddy, yeah, but everyone essentially considers her once of us, minus the working part, of course. Don’t worry, we’re not putting your daughter to work or anything,” you assure jokingly, making him laugh. “Everyone who works there, or is there enough to be one of us, has their own nickname. Seoyeon is Bud both because she’s our precious friend, and because well, she’s still growing and we don’t know what she’ll flower into, but we all know it’ll be beautiful and we’re excited to find out when the day comes.”

“Oh, that’s…she really will flower beautifully, won’t she,” Seokmin agrees in a tone so tender and full of love that even though it’s not directed to you, you can feel it all the same.

After breakfast, Seokmin drives East— or at least heads right as none of you care to actually be accurate about which direction you go— for hours without complaint.

The three of you sing along to the radio and you’re immediately besotted with his singing voice; which is how you find out that he’s been hiding his singing habit. According to Seoyeon, the man is always singing when you’re not around, but he hadn’t wanted to annoy you, while also being out of practise singing around anyone but his daughter, so he had been too shy to sing in front of you. You don’t hesitate to shower him in praise and make him promise to sing around you more, earning the cutest little shy yet pleased smile from the man, matched with prettily pinkened cheeks.

Eventually, Seokmin pulls over to do something on his phone, angling the screen away from you, making you give him a questioning look due to the playful way he’s doing it, making him giggle but he doesn’t show you. You can only look away to hide your dopey ass grin at his fucking adorable giggle.

He hands his phone to Seoyeon behind you and tells her to guide him, then he drives again. Seoyeon diligently follows the directions he must’ve found on his phone until Seokmin is parking in a little dirt parking lot with space for only a dozen cars at most. The lot is nestled just within a mass of trees, and although they don’t block out the summer sun, you can’t really see very far through them.

“Have you been here before? It must be a great photo spot for Bud,” you comment as the three of you get out of the car.

“No, I didn’t know about it until now,” Seokmin admits, walking to the boot to open it and pull out a picnic blanket and an insulated backpack.

“Did you pack a picnic?” you ask in shocked awe.

“Just a few things, it’s nothing special!” he insists, cheeks flushing pink as you take the blanket from him while he shuts the boot and locks his car. “Please don’t expect a lot.”

“I expect nothing, and this is already way above that. We should invite you to join us more often,” you tease and sling your arm around Seoyeon’s shoulders as the three of you head further into the trees along the trodden path.

Very quickly, you let go of Seoyeon and take her backpack from her to allow her to dart around taking photos of everything that catches her artistic eye.

“Do you know where we’re going or are we walking until we find a spot?” you wonder as Seokmin falls into step at your side.

“I know. Well…I hope I know,” he admits with a sheepish smile.

“So long as she’s happy, we could sit in the car park and I’d be happy. Well, provided we were in a safe place, I really don’t fancy getting run over today.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen,” he assures with a playful wink. “Gotta keep my passenger princess safe, right?”

“Does that make you my knight in shining armour?”

“Happily.” He sounds so honest, so certain, that you can’t help but turn your head away in hopes he won’t see the blush that suddenly rushes to darken your cheeks as your heart races almost violently in the abrupt strength of it.

A little under ten minutes of casual strolling later, stopping when Seoyeon gets particularly invested in getting a specific shot, or Seokmin puts his hand on you to prompt you to look at something— a touch you relish in, and pretend to not see what he’s showing you just so that he’ll move closer to you and keep his hand on your waist for longer—, the three of you step out onto an expanse of lush grass stretching out ahead of you up a little incline.

Seoyeon immediately gasps in excitement and runs off ahead to climb up to the peak of the small hill.

“This is what you found online?” you ask in a soft voice, utterly awed, as Seokmin once again puts his hand on the small of your back to lead you forward. You hadn’t even realised you had stopped still at the sight until now.

“Yeah. But this isn’t the best part,” he whispers as his hand slides around to hold your waist. Your heart skips a beat, and you press your lips together to not do something stupid like ask him to never let you go.

As soon as you crest the hill, you understand exactly what Seokmin meant. Although the hill doesn’t look big from the angle you approached, it’s much higher on the other side. You can see for miles around; the nearby town, the roads cutting through the hills and fields, the farms dotted around, but most importantly, you can see the field of sunflowers just at the bottom of the hill.

“Sunflowers,” you whisper, unable to talk any louder as you step closer to the other side with one hand to your chest as you look at your namesake.

“I’ve known there’s a sunflower field around here for a while now, I just didn’t think I’d ever have the chance to bring you here to see it,” Seokmin says. You think he’s talking to his daughter— who is a few metres ahead of you taking endless photos of the landscape— but then he stands on your left, and his hand brushes your back briefly. You wish he’d leave it there, but you know you can’t ask that.

“Me? You wanted to bring me here?” you ask in surprise.

“Yeah, you’re Sunflower,” he answers as if it’s all he needs to say, as if it’s a simple as that. Something in his full gaze locked onto you makes you think it isn’t. But you’re not brave enough to voice your suspicion. Not when that look is making the hole in your chest rapidly fill again, and you really don’t want it to be ripped out if he tells you that you’re wrong, or that he isn’t ready yet and may never be. You’d rather just keep it to yourself and enjoy the day.

“Do you think we could get close enough to take photos with them?” you wonder playfully as you turn your face forward again to escape his expression and move on before your chest can empty on your birthday of all days.

“If it will please my princess, I’ll find away,” he promises, mostly playful but you can hear the undercurrent of pure honesty. You don’t dare to look at him right now, too pink to be able to face anyone, let alone the man who makes your heart race. “For now, I’ll set up the picnic!” He takes the blanket from your hand and Seoyeon’s backpack from your shoulder then wanders off behind you to find the perfect spot.

The three of you spend hours on the hill.

Seoyeon spends most of the time carefully getting the view down onto the multiple tiny canvases she always keeps stocked up in her travel art kit. She even convinces you and Seokmin to have a go too. Neither of you are anywhere near as good at painting as Seoyeon, but you both paint a close up of a sunflower without realising, then laugh when you realise what happened once you reveal your finished masterpieces.

But mostly, you and Seokmin remain on the blanket while Seoyeon paints closer to the edge of the hill to have a better view. The two of you never face an awkwardly silent moment, even when a topic naturally ends and another doesn’t immediately pick up. It’s just…easy, to sit quietly at Seokmin’s side and enjoy the day with him. You even manage to convince him to sing for you and lay on your side as he lays on his back, face to the sky as he sings, but the romantic words settle behind your ribs so warmly.

As much as you would love to stay on that hill in a content, cosy little bubble with no thoughts of the world outside the three of you, both you and Seokmin have work in the morning, so reluctantly, the three of you pack up when the sun sets, and head back.

On the drive back home, Seokmin stops at a drive-through, realising that the picnic really isn’t a good substitute for dinner, and the three of you eat your meals on the road. You make a point of feeding Seokmin, insisting that he can’t take his hands off of the wheel— despite the fact he mostly drives with only one hand on the wheel anyway—, mostly just because he blushes so pretty and whines when Seoyeon laughs at him for it.

It's not particularly late when Seokmin pulls up infront of your building, but Seoyeon is asleep in the back, curled against the door and hugging her backpack in place of the childhood teddy bear you know she still sleeps with— something she had only admitted to after you told her you sleep with a few plushies on your bed and tend to hug one to sleep.

“Thanks for letting me tag along today, Sunflower, I really had a great day,” Seokmin says quietly, once you both realise that his daughter is sleeping away and neither of you want to risk waking her up yet.

“I don’t think it can be classed as tagging along when you drove, found the most beautiful picnic location, supplied said picnic, and paid for dinner.”

Seokmin shrugs, almost dismissively. “I’d do all that for you two any time. I’m just grateful you let me join your time together.”

“We love having you with us, Seokmin.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you assure confidently, making his lips curl up into a content smile.

“I’m glad. I really like being with you both too.” You smile at him and reach over to squeeze his hand on his thigh. You smile a little brighter, and so does he, when he turns his hand over to gently squeeze in response.

“I’ll treasure today’s memories for a long time,” you say honestly. “This was the best birthday I’ve had in years, thank you.” You try to turn and get out of the car, but Seokmin makes an alarmed sound, causing you to look at him with your own alarmed expression. “Are you okay?”

“It’s your birthday today?” he hisses in shock. You just nod. “Why didn’t you tell us? We could’ve done something special!”

You look at him for a moment before smiling and leaning over to gently hold his worried face in your hands. You don’t miss the way he immediately melts against your palms, and his eyes turn big and round on you. “Today was so special to me. You don’t understand how happy I am, how happy you’ve made me with today. I don’t need or want any more than that. I expected nothing, and you still blew that out of the water.”

“I…okay,” he concedes, trusting the honesty on your features, so you nod in approval and let your hands slide away from his face to land gently on your lap. “I’m glad I could make your birthday special for you. You deserve it.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And happy birthday, by the way.” You giggle and thank him again before getting out of the car. You say goodbye and then he ushers you to your apartment, insisting he won’t leave until he’s seen your front door close behind you.

True to his word, Seokmin only starts the car back up when you open your front door, and it’s only once you’ve closed it behind you and peer out of the window beside it that you see his car driving away.

Just as you decide to call it a night and turn off the TV to head to bed, there’s a timid sounding knock on your door. It’s close to midnight now, and you’re really not expecting guests— especially when your friends and family never turn up out of the blue so late— so you’re confused and a little cautious as you inch towards the door. When you’re only steps away, there’s another knock, slightly louder as if they realised the first was maybe too quiet to be heard.

As soon as you recognise the figure on the landing when you peer through the spyhole, your confusion grows exponentially but worry blooms bright as the worst comes to mind as to why he would be knocking your door so late without prior warning.

As quickly as you can, you disengage the alarm, remove the latch, and unlock the door to open it and meet a fidgeting, pyjama clad Seokmin face to face. “Is Seoyeon okay?” you immediately ask, only to realise he’s wearing a shy, sheepish smile and is holding a cupcake in his hands with an unlit birthday candle sticking out of the top. “Oh…”

“Sorry, I know it’s late and I probably disturbed your sleep–”

“You didn’t,” you assure, not liking the guilt on his features. He relaxes, trusting that you’re being honest and smiles more naturally as he steps closer.

“I couldn’t sleep thinking about how it’s your birthday and you didn’t get to blow out a candle. Unless you did it with someone else…I should’ve considered that. You have family, and friends, and–”

“Seokmin,” you interrupt him for the second time, stepping closer to put one hand over his and making him look at you with such an endearingly cute expression that you can’t help but smile at him. “I haven’t seen anyone but you and Seoyeon today.”

“Ah, good. Well, not good that you haven’t seen anyone else, but good that I’m not making you blow out a second set of candles.” You just giggle and watch as he produces a lighter from his pocket and struggles with it for a few moments, long enough that he gets a little embarrassed. “Sorry, I just bought it, and I haven’t touched a lighter in years. We use matches at home, and I didn’t think to bring them.” Finally, the flame appears steady, and he makes a victorious sound before carefully setting the little white candle aflame, wick burning bright and strong without a breeze to tease it. “Make a wish,” he encourages softly, holding the cupcake closer to you.

Obligingly, you shut your eyes and clasp your hands together as you wish for a long, happy life with many birthdays like today with Seokmin and Seoyeon by your side.

When you open your eyes, you immediately blow out the candle then look up at Seokmin, finding him looking at you with what you can’t deny as utter adoration on his gently smiling features.

“Happy birthday, Sunflower.”

“Thank you,” you respond quietly.

Your breath catches when he steps even closer to you, only to reach past you and put the cupcake on the little table directly inside of the apartment under the window. It confuses you why he didn’t just give it to you, but then he wraps his arms around your waist in a hug so perfect you can only melt against his strong chest and clutch onto him in hopes he won’t let go too soon.

To your relief, Seokmin waits for you to lift your head off his shoulder before he loosens his hold. Though he doesn’t let you go; he lifts one hand to gently brush your hair out of your face then cup your jaw, thumb brushing over your warm cheek.

He leans in, holding your jaw a little firmer, and then tilts his head aside to kiss your cheek. Still, your heart races and skips over its own beats.

“I should go, we both have work in the morning,” he says as he pulls back, his cheeks flushed to match yours. He looks shy and flicks his eyes away from you quicker than he usually does. It’s utterly precious.

Not wanting to risk ruining anything, you obligingly release your hold on him and let him step back. “Thank you for coming all this way so that I get a birthday wish, Seokmin.”

“I hope your wish comes true.”

You can’t help but wonder if he’d say the same if he knew what you wished for. As you think about the way it seemed like he changed his aim at the last minute to kiss your cheek instead of your lips, you think he probably would.

Ever since your birthday, you’re pretty sure things between you and Seokmin have changed. Not in any wildly obvious ways, but in the ways you notice. The way he hovers around you more. The way he seems to find excuses to sit or stand near you. The way he lets his eyes linger when you catch him already looking at you, and he doesn’t shy away immediately, yet smiles to himself when he inevitably does.

Something has changed, and something is changing further, but you still keep back. You’re too scared you’ll scare him off if you let your interest and feelings show now. You’re not sure he’s actually ready for anything, because at this point you really can’t deny that he does like you. You wish he’d tell you that and let you know where he stands, so that you’re not constantly in a state of anxious anticipation for the moment he makes some kind of move. But you won’t push him.

You wait, and the hope in your chest swells as big as it’s ever been.

A week before the summer holidays end, Seokmin has to go away for a work trip. He’s only going to a city a few hours away, but he’s got a lot of work to do for a couple of different clients, so he’ll be away for a few days.

Initially, he planned to take Seoyeon with him, unwilling to leave her home alone for three days. Not because he doesn’t trust her— you think he trusts her more than anyone else, and more than you’ve ever seen a parent trust their child— but because he just can’t handle the thought of something potentially happening to his baby while he’s too far away to do anything about it or even know that something’s happened.

Yet when you offer to stay with Seoyeon for the few days, even saying you’ll get someone to cover as many as your hours at the arcade as possible, Seokmin doesn’t even get the chance to respond before Seoyeon pops up from behind the couch— you hadn’t even known she was done in the kitchen— and enthusiastically agrees. She even pulls out the puppy eyes and cutely pleads her dad to allow her to stay at home with you. Seokmin can’t say no to Seoyeon on the average day, let alone when she’s purposely acting cute; so just like that, you and Seoyeon start to plan your sleepover.

Almost as soon as Seokmin leaves— not long after the three of you have had dinner so that he can get to his hotel tonight and relax before his first meeting in the morning— you and Seoyeon break into almost manically excited giggles and rush to gather all the supplies you need.

Even though Seokmin assured you that you can take his bed for the days as they don’t have a guest room, you don’t spend a single moment in his room— even if a huge part of you would love to envelop yourself in his scent embedded into his bed.

While planning the sleepover, Seoyeon had requested the two of you sleep in the living room together, like a real sleepover— something she’s never had before. Of course, you didn’t even try to argue, didn’t want to, but you had one condition; the two of you make a fort to sleep in.

It takes two hours at least to get the fort exactly how the two of you want, and it’s a grand, cosy thing too. You’ve left the front mostly open, so that you can see the large TV from the masses of pillows and blankets cushioning the floor, and also so that you can easily get in and out without risking pulling the whole thing down on top of you.

Honestly, you think the fort is a work of art and you’re already planning to try and convince Seokmin to make it a permanent feature in the living room. Or at least a special, limited-edition feature for as long as he can deal with having no sofa to sit on. You’re pretty that sure between you and Seoyeon, you can wheedle at least a week and a half out of him, perhaps two if you bribe him with dinner, which, you are more than willing to do. Honestly, you’d be happy to make him dinner or take him out to dinner any given day without any ulterior motive, but he doesn’t know that, nor does he need to know that when it’ll work greatly to your benefit in this particular circumstance.

On the first morning of your sleepover, you and Seoyeon clamber out of the fort at a little after 10am and then immediately rush off to get ready for the day trip the two of you had planned the night before.

Not even half an hour after waking, the pair of you are in your car— eating breakfast on the go— and headed off for a day focused entirely on Seoyeon’s passion in life, art. You start by touring the huge art museum a few towns away, where you spend the majority of the day.

Every time Seoyeon stops at a piece that really catches her eye, you can’t help but take photos on your phone; partly to send a few to her dad, but mostly because you utterly adore the shine to her big eyes and awed smiles as she takes in every inch of the masterpiece. Of course, you don’t argue when she wants to stop and try to recreate the artwork in her sketchbook that she’s clutched close to her chest the entire tour, even as she takes photos on her camera for future reference too.

There’s a decent sized café at the museum, so you stop for a late lunch there, enjoying the dishes and drinks named after pieces homed in the museum. When Seoyeon comments on how much her dad would like the hand decorated sugar cookies, you buy a box to take home for him, while she just giggles amusedly at your concentration in picking out the perfect cookies for the man.

After the museum, there’s a little time to kill before the evening night art class you signed up for. It’s situated on the roof of the tallest building in the city, where you’re all given free access to various paints, pastels, and pencils to recreate the skyline in your own styles. You’re not the best at art, but you try your hardest and also try not to encourage the flirting of one of the instructors as he helps you get your vision onto paper.

Of course, Seoyeon does an incredible job with her painting, and you’re tempted to ask her for her finished piece, but you think Seokmin would adore having it hanging in the entrance hall, where there’s a proud shrine to his daughter’s work for all visitors of the Lee house to gaze upon reverently.

By the time you get back to the Lee house, you both have just enough energy to throw together a quick dinner, before curling up in the fort and falling asleep excited for another day out together tomorrow.

On the second day, the pair of you wake up with unimpressed pouts as your alarm rings, neither of you quite cognisant enough to realise why you set an alarm for 6:30am when you don’t even have work for another couple of days. Though once you realise, you both scramble excitedly off to get ready for today’s trip.

After four hours, including stops to stretch your legs and refuel— both the car and yourselves—, you arrive at the beach and can’t help but marvel at the beauty of the hidden cove, barely populated despite the time of day and summer season. All day, the two of you are in awe of how it never gets busy; it remains a calm little pocket of beauty outside the bustle of tourist trap beaches.

While at the beach, you send a photo— or multiple— to Seokmin, who video calls an hour later, both to pout about the two of you going to the beach without him, and to check in and get a full run down of your time together while he has some time to kill before his next meeting. You let Seoyeon do most of the talking and simply sit back with a fond little smile on your face as you watch the pair match one another’s enthusiasm with identical, bright smiles, and sparkling eyes.

You think you could spend the rest of your life watching the father-daughter duo interact and be truly happy. You think if you were blessed with that life, you’d never need nor want for more.

After two days of driving for hours at a time, and walking for hours, and lounging under the sun and playing in the sea for hours, you and Seoyeon need a lazy day to recharge.

On the third— and final— day of your sleepover, the two of you wake a little after 9am, and remain in the fort dozing and watching TV for another hour before you heave yourself up to make you both breakfast.

Seoyeon is almost asleep again when you return, but she becomes more alert at the scent of food and sleepily sits up to let you place her tray on her lap. “Can we go get snacks?” she asks as the two of you sit side by side while you eat and watch the show she’s put on. You just hum in agreement, then smile to yourself when you catch her wiggle happily in your periphery.

“No,” you refuse as soon as you see the packet of giant marshmallows Seoyeon has found somewhere in the store and trotted over to the shopping trolley with. She pouts at you cutely. “You and your dad have zero self-control where marshmallows are concerned, I am banning you both from them for the foreseeable future. At least until I forget the sight of you puking up pastel two weeks ago.”

“I’ll only eat one at a time!” she promises.

“That doesn’t mean one packet,” you clarify, making her giggle and you just know she would’ve used that non-specification as a loophole. “I’m going to buy a lock box to keep them in,” you warn, taking the packet from her hands to toss into the trolley, making her cheer happily. “A big lock box; that’s a huge bag, Bud.”

“I’ll share.”

“With me or do you mean one in each hand?” you joke, making her shove you a little at the tease, though she’s grinning, so you know she doesn’t mind.

“Can we have pizza for dinner?” she requests as you enter a new aisle and immediately grab a large bag of rice from the shelf, knowing that the Lee’s pot is getting low and Seokmin somehow always forgets to buy more rice. You’re pretty sure you’ve bought the last few bags of rice, not that you mind at all, nor do you accept Seokmin’s offers to pay you back. He feeds you multiple times a week, the least you can do is keep them topped up on rice.

“You really are your father’s child,” you muse and she nods. “I’m not making it. We’ll order in.”

“Hell yeah,” she enthuses, making you snort a laugh. “You should stay one more night, so you can be there in the morning for dad’s pancakes. He promised to make them the first morning he’s back.”

“I have work the day after your dad’s back, I need to get up too early for you two to be awake.”

“We’ll get up for breakfast with you.”

“Bud, I’d have to leave at 7 at the latest, I have stuff to do before the arcade even opens.”

“Can’t someone else do it?”

“No,” you laugh and put your arm around her shoulders to pull her against your side while she pouts. “We’ll have pancakes at some point. They don’t just have to be a breakfast food, you know?”

“Dad’s weird about stuff like that. He said it’s called breakfast for a reason. You’ll have to stay over another day when you both don’t have to be up early, so we can have breakfast together,” she decides.

It sounds nice; spending the night and having breakfast with the pair, something like a dream come true, honestly. You don’t have it in you to argue with the girl when you want that as much as she seems to, so you just hum and let go of her to motion to a jar on the shelf for her to grab while you get something from another self. Thankfully, the topic is forgotten after that, and you can push it to the back of your mind and focus on shopping.

Something makes you jerk awake. You’re really confused for a moment until you hear a noise in the entrance hall. Suddenly, you’re wide awake and creep out of the fort, grabbing your phone as you go and unlocking it ready to call the police if need be.

Though as soon as you carefully peer into the entrance hall, you relax and lock your phone. “You’re early,” you comment, stepping into the hall as Seokmin jumps in surprise, having been too focused on trying to get his shoes off where he’s perched on the stool and fighting with the too tightly tied laces of his dress shoes. He’s still in one of his work outfits— shirt unbuttoned a little too far and sleeves roughly rolled up his forearms to fight the summer heat, even if it’s late now so a lot cooler than it was earlier.

“Ah, yeah, I just…really wanted to come home,” he admits a little bashfully, straightening up and smiling at you. “Did I wake you?”

“Mm, but it’s okay, I’m glad you’re back. Going to join us in the fort?” you offer, motioning to the lounge with a tired, yet still cheeky little grin that makes him chuckle.

“If there’s room.” You nod enthusiastically, earning another little chuckle. “Alright. I’ll take my stuff upstairs and shower, then I’ll be right there…as soon as I get these off.”

“Want some help?” you offer with a soft laugh, already moving over to kneel in front of him and reach for his shoes before he can answer.

It goes to show how sleepy you are that you don’t even conjure images of what else you can do on your knees infront of the man, his thick thighs spread right in front of your face when you’re upright. But you’re not upright, you’re bending down low to get a good look at his laces and untangle the tight knot that he’s made worse with his tugging.

Once you’ve got both shoes undone, you remove them from his feet and get up to put them in their usual place on the shoe rack, entirely unaware that Seokmin has done nothing but stare a little dumbly at you as you work. At least until you turn and look at him, finding his big eyes locked on you, mouth dropped open.

You giggle amusedly and then walk over to brush your fingers over the dark marks under his eyes, giving away that he’s tired, no doubt from being away from home and the long drive back so late at night. “Come on, sleepy pants, you need to go to bed, and so do I.” You pick up his hands from his lap and tug until he obediently gets to his feet, still staring down at you with that same expression. “Do I need to take you upstairs myself, Seokmin?” you muse.

Finally, Seokmin snaps out of it and shakes the daze from his head, lips curling into a smile again. “No, sorry. I’ll be right there.”

“Okay,” you agree and let him go a little reluctantly— you could swear his fingers curl against yours until they can’t anymore, as reluctant as you are to let go— before returning to your space in the fort, hearing Seokmin clamber up the stairs with his luggage a few moments later.

By the time Seokmin joins you— truly not even that long later— you’re practically asleep again, curled on your side facing Seoyeon but stubbornly trying to remain awake until he’s in his rightful space. As he ducks into the fort on his daughter’s other side, you smile sleepily at him, and he smiles back.

You watch as he settles under the blanket beside his daughter. He takes the time to make sure she’s tucked in comfortably and presses a love filled kiss against her head before looking at you as he remains propped up on his left hand.

“Tell me about your trip in the morning,” you suggest, words starting to slur as you lose the fight with your eyelids and they flutter shut, sleep already close to dragging you under. “You can make us pancakes.” You barely hear Seokmin’s answering chuckle and agreement, you can barely feel the gently brush of fingers tucking your hair out of your face. “We missed you.”

You can’t be sure, you’re already falling asleep, but you think you feel something against your forehead, something that feels awfully like a kiss, and then you’re asleep and you can’t think about it anymore.

Before you know it, the summer holidays are over, Seoyeon goes back to school, and Rainy Days Arcade feels almost empty during the weekdays again.

Despite being practically raised in this very arcade, despite how many years you’ve worked here and witnessed this happened every September, it still makes your heart ache a little to no longer spend the workday seeing smiling faces everywhere you turn.

Though, of course, you can always rely on Skater to cheer you up.

“Hey, look, I got a tattoo of you,” Skater declares one afternoon; after watching you mope around the arcade since the morning, only picking up when you come across a customer as you wait for the afterschool rush.

“What?” you ask, utterly bewildered and a little concerned. You don’t truly believe the man would actually get a tattoo of you— even with his major crush and borderline harmless obsession with you— but you also know that he and Noodle went out with Tiger and some others last night and drank far too much.

Noodle is still sprawled across some seats in the snack bar, snoring away and clutching an empty noodle pot in an attempt to get over his hangover. Skater hadn’t been in a much better condition when he turned up for work; though he thankfully gets over his hangovers pretty quickly with some food in him and a powernap curled up on the floor under a table in the snack bar— you stopped trying to get him to sleep there years ago—, so he’s fine now. But the condition of him when he turned up makes you think he was definitely in a position last night to make a really fucking dumb decision. And Tiger, as you have learned, is full of dumb ideas.

Tentatively, you lean over the prize desk to peer at where Skater has the rip in his jeans pulled, revealing the little cartoon sunflower on his thigh. Immediately, you reach out and slap his arm, making him crack up laughing. It’s just a temporary tattoo, one that can be claimed from the prize desk in exchange for a couple of tickets.

“Asshole, I was worried for a moment there!” you admit and hit him again for good measure.

“Why are we beating him up?” Curly asks as she steps up on your right, holding her youngest child against her chest in a sling, making both you and Skater immediately coo at the 8-month-old. Neither of you answer her question, too occupied in making the baby gurgle and laugh, but Curly doesn’t mind.

“What brings you by?” you wonder almost ten minutes later, when you straighten up and look at the adult attached to the adorable little baby.

“Gremlin number two broke gremlin number three’s plushie you gave her last time she was here,” she explains, meaning that her second oldest child broke the plushie of her third oldest— or second youngest—; a plushie you gave the little girl a few weeks back, when she had been so in awe of the weird looking frog-creature.

“Ah,” you nod in understanding and move behind the desk to unlock the back display and pull down another of the weird looking plushies to hand over. “Tell gremlin two that he won’t be allowed to play here if he isn’t nice to the other gremlins.”

“Will do,” Curly agrees with a laugh. “We’ll probably be by this weekend; their cousins are coming to visit, and you know the husband can’t handle that many kids in the house at once.”

“Rate he knocks you up, you’d think he’s trying to have that many kids,” Skater jokes.

“Oh, we’re done now,” Curly declares, patting the baby against her to show he’s the last one. “Got two of each, better not upset those odds.”

“May the odds be ever in your favour,” Skater says, and you both ignore him, far too used to the random quotes after working with him for four years now.

“Speaking of kids, how is your plan to become Bud’s stepmother going?”

“I’m not trying to be her stepmother,” you correct, though sigh forlornly and flop against the desk. “But I wouldn’t mind. I love her, she’s the best.”

“She really loves you too, it’s obvious. She looks up to you a lot,” Curly says, petting your head and laughing softly when you lean into it like an animal when she stops too fast for your liking. “You’re good for her. He must see that.”

“He does, I think,” you answer, tilting your head to pout at the woman you consider an aunt. She coos at you and brushes the loose strands of hair back from your sulking features. “But he hasn’t given any indication that he’s ready to bring me into their lives like that. I’m like 76.2% sure that he does like me. I mean, I’m pretty sure he’s almost kissed me at least twice now!”

“Damn, lucky guy,” Skater mutters. “What I’d give to almost kiss you.”

“You literally asked for a kiss for your birthday,” you deadpan at him.

“In my defence, I was very drunk, and I do not remember that night at all. I still don’t believe you did it,” he comments honestly. “I think you and Noodle are just fucking with me.”

You stare at him for a moment then abruptly straighten, grab his face, and plant a kiss on his parted in surprise lips. When you pull back after barely a second, his eyes are wider than you’ve ever seen them, and his cheeks already pink and only growing brighter.

“I–” he chokes out, then rushes off, tripping over his own feet and catching himself on a games machine, causing the alarm to start blaring. He yelps and glances at you, so red now that you’re genuinely a little concerned, before he motions to the machine limply then bolts to the snack bar, no doubt to freak out to his best friend.

“I should deal with that,” you mutter, then sigh and wander over to the machine to turn the alarm off.

“I’ve gotta go, the gremlins will be coming out of school soon,” Curly announces when you return to the prize desk, deciding that someone is going to have to cover Skater until he’s functional again, and you don’t exactly have anything better to do right now, so you may as well do it.

“Ah, right,” you respond, glancing at the clock on the wall behind you, then back at her. “Give them all hugs from their auntie Sunflower.”

“Will do. If you torment Skate again, record it; everyone will be sad they missed it.”

“Not like it’s not on CCTV,” you muse, motioning vaguely to one of the many security cameras around the arcade; a few are directed at the prize desk, and you know at least one has a perfect view of Skater’s freak out.

“Send it in the work chat,” Curly suggests as she backs up, grinning at you. You just laugh and nod in agreement before watching her walk off.

Almost half an hour later, Skater returns half hiding behind Noodle, who is wearing a shit-eating grin. “He wants to request the rest of the day off because he can’t even look at you right now,” Noodle announces once he’s on the opposite side of the desk to you, and Skater is staring wide eyed at his best friend’s left shoulder from barely inches behind it.

“I didn’t think he’d freak out this much,” you muse. “He kept asking for more last time.”

“He was drunk,” Noodle retorts. “Anyway, can we go? It’s about to get busy with teenagers soon and my head still hurts.” He pouts at you, cutely pleading with his eyes.

“You can do what you want, Nood. But he needs to get someone to cover his shift if he’s leaving,” you remind with a shrug. “I can’t do it; I’ve got to take Bud home tonight. Seokmin’s making lasagne and I am not missing it.”

“Go,” Noodle encourages his best friend as he looks over his shoulder at him, even nudging the taller male when Skater remains in place. “Go find someone to cover the desk. Pretty sure I saw Violet earlier, and by saw, he sat watching me sleep for like twenty minutes.”

“In his defence, you sleep talk and it’s hilarious,” you muse as Skater scuttles off in search of the older man— or someone else to cover his shift.

“I’m hilarious when I’m awake too,” Noodle declares. You suck your teeth and he gawps, reaching over to flick you in offense, making you snigger. Then he leans onto the desk to talk to you with wide eyes and a grin. “You can get the kiss cam footage from the CCTV, right?”

“Curly’s already told me to send it in the group chat,” you answer, making him let out a weird little laugh before he leans back to his side of the counter.

Not long later, Skater returns, not with Violet but your own dad, making your eyebrows lift in surprise, before you grin and bounce around the desk to greet him with a hug.

“I didn’t know you’re coming by today,” you comment.

“Your mum’s working on the beds out front,” he explains, motioning to the front of the arcade, making you gasp then rush off to find your mother, where she’s already kneeling on her foam mat, gardening tools at her side, and gloves on her hands to weed the flower beds decorating the front of the arcade.

“Hi, sweetheart,” she coos when you sit at her side to hug her. She leans into the embrace but doesn’t lift her hands from the pot, not wanting to get soil on you.

“No job today?” you ask and she shakes her head before going on to tell you about the job she and your dad were supposed to start today for their landscaping business, but the client cancelled at the last minute, despite the fact that the expensive custom pebble mix had been ordered. 

The two of you stay out there talking as she works on the flowerbeds and hanging planters long enough that the arcade is filling with students looking to relax and hang out after school.

When Seoyeon arrives, she looks a little bewildered, not recognising your mother, but you quickly introduce the pair and Seoyeon relaxes, though gets a little shy. Still, your mum obviously adores her already and as she already knows who Bud is after hearing about her from you and the other staff over the past months, she quickly tells you to bring her and her dad over on the weekend for a barbeque while the weather is still good enough for it.

Knowing how shy Seoyeon can get— and is clearly feeling right now— you take her into the arcade and leave your mum gardening in peace.

“You don’t have to come,” you assure the teen as the two of you head to the snack bar after you’ve peered at the prize desk and spotted your dad contently sitting on the stool behind it and watching over the place.

“You’d really be okay with it?” Seoyeon asks as the two of you sit down at your usual table and she pulls some homework from her bag for you to look at and decide if it’s possible to start it here, or if it’s something you’ll have to help her with her home where you can both concentrate better. “Me and dad with your family?”

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?” you respond, looking at her a little puzzled. “They invite the staff over a few times a year for events, and sometimes Skater tags along when I visit them.”

“I’m not staff though; I’m just a kid.”

“Hey,” you argue, turning to face her better. “You’re not just a kid. You’re someone very important to me, okay? I care about you a hell of a lot, Seoyeon; enough that, yes, I’ve talked about you to my parents so much that they even ask about you now. Mum’s wanted to meet you for a while, it’s just not been viable with her working, and I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I still don’t. You can say no; nobody will be mad if you’re not comfortable with going to their place and spending time with us all.”

“Oh…You’re really okay with us coming? Meeting your parents?”

“Yeah. Doc and MD will likely be there, so you’ll already know them. Plus, Doc’s wife. And my brother maybe, if he comes home from school this weekend,” you inform with a shrug. “He always brings lots of sweets and cakes to share; both because he’s obsessed with sugar, and because he claims he’s securing future patients.” Seoyeon gives you a questioning look. “He’s studying to be a dentist.”

“Oh.” She giggles amusedly. “Should we bring anything?”

“You want to come?” Seoyeon nods in confirmation and you grin before hugging her excitedly. She giggles some more and happily hugs you back. “We’ll talk to your dad about it later. Hopefully, he’ll agree.”

To both of your genuine surprise, when you and Seoyeon bring up the barbeque when the three of you are lounging on the sofa watching a movie after dinner, Seokmin doesn’t agree.

“What? No?” Seoyeon repeats, straightening up from her usual place in between you and her dad to look at him in betrayed shock. “Why no?”

Seokmin shuffles to sit up straighter and turns a little to face the pair of you, though he’s looking directly at Seoyeon. “Snowdrop, they’re having a family barbeque and–”

“Her mum invited us!” Seoyeon interrupts. “Sunflower didn’t, her mum did! We’re not intruding on family time.”

Seokmin sighs heavily, and for the first time, he looks a little frustrated towards his daughter. Part of you feels like you shouldn’t be here, but part of you knows it’s related to you and your family, so you’re perfectly within your rights to remain. “Let’s discuss this later, okay?” he says pointedly, and despite what you felt seconds ago, now you feel like you’re unwelcome here. It’s not something you’ve ever felt in the house, or around the pair.

“I get the hint,” you mutter and get up. “See you tomorrow, Bud,” you say, squeezing her arm a little before walking to the entrance hall to get your shoes on.

“No!” Seoyeon argues while getting up, shoving her dad’s hand from her hand to follow you. “Don’t go. You never leave before I’m in bed.”

“Your dad obviously wants to have a private conversation with you, so it’s time for me to leave,” you explain as you sit on the stool to pull your shoes on.

“We don’t need a private conversation about this! It’s about family– you–your family…I mean.” You look up at her and find her suddenly withdrawn a little. It makes you think that her little trip up with her words means something.

“Bud…” you give up with your shoes, removing them again so that you can walk over and gently take a hold of her face to make her look at you. She looks like she could cry any second and it breaks your heart. “What’s going on, sweetheart?” you ask softly.

“I…I hate it when you leave,” she admits with a sniffle. “I like it when you’re here, with us, where–where you belong. You’re…I want you to be family with us and not in the way people call friends. I mean real family.”

You don’t know what to say, you genuinely hadn’t ever thought she’d want that. Maybe in the future if Seokmin came around and you two got together, but you’re just friends.

“I think we should talk,” Seokmin’s voice makes you look over to where he’s standing by the entrance of the living room, arms crossed over his chest and an expression on his face that you can’t read as he watches his daughter try not to cry.

Although you don’t want to leave, you know it’s not your place to argue; it’s Seokmin’s house, his daughter who is upset, not yours. So, you nod and only kiss Seoyeon’s head before letting your hands drop away so that you can move to grab your shoes, willing to leave with them in your hands at this point.

But before you can get far, Seokmin speaks back up. “I meant us, Sunflower,” he says, making you look at him in surprise. “Can you give us a minute, Snowdrop?” he requests as he stops beside his daughter. As soon as he puts a gentle hand on her back, she jerks away and storms off to the living room. Seokmin waits for the movie to start and the volume to get turned up to give you privacy to talk before he steps closer to you. “Do you remember the talk we had? About Seoyeon’s mother and dating?”

You blink at him a few times before nodding while lowering your shoes back to the floor. “You want to be sure whoever you date will stick around.”

“And be ready to be our family one day, when ready,” he adds and you nod. “And you said that you hope I find that.”

“I do. You deserve it, you both do.”

“Thank you.” He gives you a little smile that doesn’t meet the ache in his eyes. “I told Seoyeon about that talk because I tell her everything and it felt important to tell her.”

“I understand,” you respond honestly, not at all upset at him for talking to Seoyeon about it; it’s probably something she deserves to know anyway.

“Why are you always so understanding?” he suddenly asks, looking even more pained, utterly bewildering you. “I don’t know how to deal with you.”

“What?” you deadpan.

“Not like that!” He groans frustratedly at himself and buries his face in his hands. You watch his shoulders move as he takes a few deep breaths before he drops his hands and looks at you. “I want to deal with you. I–I want you around too, it’s not just Seoyeon that wants you here, Sunflower.”

“Then ask me to be,” you say simply, moving a little closer while he stares at you in disbelief.

“But…you said you hope I find that.”

“Yes, I do hope that.”

“I…I thought you meant with someone else.”

“No. I want it to be with me, but if you want someone else–”

“No. Never,” he argues firmly and quickly moves closer to take your face into his hands, staring down at you so seriously, so heated that your heart races. “I was trying to tell you that day what I want from you, what I’d expect if you agree. I thought your response meant you don’t want that, and then you…backed off.”

“I thought you were telling me you weren’t ready,” you admit. “So, I was giving you space to decide in your own time. I’d already done all I could to prove that you can trust me with your family, so it was just down to you to be ready.”

“Oh…” he relaxes as a smile lifts his lips. “I’m so fucking stupid.”

You can’t help but laugh and his smile grows wider. “Yeah, you are a bit.”

“Hey!” he complains, though there’s no heat to it, and instead of pulling away in offense, he leans closer in adoration. “I’d really like to stop being stupid and let you know how I feel about you.”

“Mm, and how do you plan on doing that?” you muse, lifting your hands to hold onto his waist loosely, then a little tighter when you remember that he’s likely ripped under his clothes based on the size of his thighs and arms.

“I’ll write you a poem,” he declares seriously, then giggles when you give him an unimpressed look. “Serenade you from outside of your window with a boombox?”

“Okay, I would actually love that. I love your voice,” you decide, making him blush prettily and smile shyly under the compliment. “My neighbours might not appreciate it though, so how about you just serenade me face to face at a later point?”

“A later point?” he teases. “Not now?”

“No, you should do what I’m pretty sure you’ve almost done a few times before today.” He raises an eyebrow at you. “Kiss me.”

“You noticed?”

“I don’t think you realise how much attention I pay to you, Seokmin. I’ve been kind of obsessed with your handsome face since I first saw it.” The shy little whine he lets out makes you giggle. “You’re so ridiculously cute for a 42-year-old man, you know?”

“Please don’t remind me how much older than I am,” he complains, adjusting his hold on your face to hold you a little more securely.

“You’re a DILF.”

He gives you an unimpressed look, though it slips away almost instantly and he chuckles, looking pleased by your words. “Okay, I’ll accept that,” he smirks smugly, then leans in to brush his nose against yours. “I can really kiss you?”

“Whenever the fuck you like, seriously,” you enthuse.

Seokmin chuckles then finally, finally, finally presses his lips to yours. His lips are still a little sticky from the marshmallows that he and Seoyeon puppy-dog-eyed out of you immediately after dinner, and there’s still gel in his hair from work when you lift your hands to run through it, but you think it’s a perfect kiss all the same. And quickly turns heated in an also very perfect way, in your so humble opinion.

The two of you pull apart minute later when you hear a little yelp from the living room and turn to find Seoyeon scrambling away from the doorway, clearly having decided to spy on the two of you yet found you making out in the entrance hall.

“She definitely saw,” you muse, looking back at Seokmin as you wrap your arms around his neck loosely.

“I’m very certain that’s the first time she’s seen me kiss someone,” he comments, looking like he’s not sure if he should run away and hide from the awkward embarrassment of his daughter seeing him grabbing your ass with his tongue teasing yours. Though he turns his slightly panicked look on you and it melts away as his hands— unfortunately— move away from your ass and to a safe spot on your waist. “Are you really okay with this? That being with me means becoming her mum one day? Not for a while, it’s too soon for that, even if I love seeing you two together and how good you are with her. But in the future.”

“You think I’d have just let you grab my ass if I wasn’t committed to this? Both of you?”

“To be honest, I think you wanted me to grab your ass from the moment we met,” he comments, partly cheeky, partly cocky.

You automatically open your mouth to argue, only to realise you can’t and instead giggle. “Okay, that’s true. But things have changed. I just wanted to take you for a ride or twelve then, now I want to ride you for the rest of my life.”

“Baby,” he murmurs, cheeks a little pink, but his eyes a little darker. “You can’t just say that.”

“Why not? Don’t you want me to?”

“Oh, that’s not it at all,” he insists, eyes widening a little. “The day you taught me to play that game and pressed your ass against me, I couldn’t think of anything else that night.”

“I probably would’ve let you flip my skirt and bend me over that game, by the way,” you announce off-handedly, as if it it’s such a normal thing to say to your brand new, fresh out of the box DILF-boyfriend. God, you can’t want to play with him.

“You’re going to kill me,” he croaks out, fingers digging into your flesh as he tries to not let that mental image take over his mind. He’ll be unable to function if so.

“And you’re going to enjoy every second of it,” you coo and tap his nose, making his somewhat constipated expression break as he smiles.

“Yeah, I will.” He kisses you once more— innocently this time— then lets you go and steps back. “Even though I’m very sure she already knows, let’s go tell Seoyeon,” He suggests, while offering his hand to you. You nod in agreement and take the offer, immediately lacing your fingers together and walking close enough to him that you can nervously hug his arm to your chest.

Although Seoyeon had already basically said she wants you to be with her dad and be her pseudo-mother, you’re pretty sure she never wanted to see you and her dad lip locked, especially not like you were, so you’re nervous she’ll have changed her mind upon realising what the two of you being in a relationship really means.

Though as soon as she looks at the two of you, her slightly disturbed expression leaves and she smiles brightly. You let go of Seokmin to dart over and tackle Seoyeon down in a hug, making her laugh as she hugs you back just as enthusiastically.

“Does this mean you’re moving in?” she questions as you sit up and allow her to sit too, before you pull her against your side, arms around her shoulders and head resting on hers, and she curls right into your arms.

“No, it’s too soon for that,” you answer as Seokmin sits behind Seoyeon and pulls you both into his own arms, dropping a kiss on both of your heads that makes you and Seoyeon smile at the affection. “But I imagine there will be more sleepovers.”

“Not always like last time,” Seokmin adds quickly. “I love the fort, so we’ll definitely have to rebuild it and do that, but I will want time with Sunflower on my own.”

“Ew, gross, I don’t want to know about that!” Seoyeon exclaims in complaint, making you laugh, which turns into cackles when you see Seokmin’s wide eyed, flustered expression.

“I didn’t mean for that!” he defends. “I–I just meant to cuddle!”

“Tell that to what I saw in the hallway,” Seoyeon mutters and you laugh harder while Seokmin whines.

“So!” you start a few moments later when you’ve stopped laughing. “About this weekend.” The Lee pair look at you in sync, making your smile widen. They’re so cute. “Are you still against going, Seok? Because I’d really like to introduce my boyfriend to my family.”

“Boyfriend,” Seokmin repeats a little dumbly.

“Yes, that is what you are,” you confirm amusedly. “Or do you prefer to be called partner?”

“That makes me think of cowboys,” he admits, making you and Seoyeon giggle. “Or cops,” he adds and oh, now you’re thinking about roleplay.

You wonder if Seokmin would dress up as a cop if you offer to be handcuffed to the bed. Or maybe a cowboy and he can tie you with rope. Or you can be a cowboy— it sounds better for roleplay than cowgirl— and he can be a wild beast you have to tame, with rope. You just really think someone should be tied up or tied down. Either way, you’re willing to buy out the entire bondage section of your preferred supplies website, he’s just got to say green. Green means go to go, after all.

“Sunflower?” Seokmin’s voice bring you out of your thoughts and back to reality with a questioning hum. “You okay?” You just nod, so he drops it and returns to the topic at hand— unfortunately not him dressed in a cop uniform and telling you to get on your knees. “I’d really love to meet your parents as your boyfriend.”

“Really?!” you ask excitedly, face lighting up, which only grows when he nods in confirmation with a smile upon seeing your joy. “You’re the best!” you cover Seoyeon’s eyes and lean over to plant a kiss on Seokmin’s lips, making him chuckle softly.

“Are you going to make a habit of that?” Seoyeon asks as you settle back, turning to face the TV and the two of you copy, even as Seoyeon remains tucked between you both with your right arm around her, and Seokmin’s left on the back of the sofa behind you both.

“Kissing your dad’s pretty face?” you question and she pulls a face while Seokmin smiles shyly pleased at the compliment. “Hell fucking yeah, I am.”

Seoyeon bursts into giggles at your response, while Seokmin sighs, trying to hide his own laugh, then goes on to scold you about swearing like that around the baby. Seoyeon starts to argue with him about being called a baby while you watch the pair with your chest full and warm of the love you have for the duo. A love you just know will last for the rest of your life, and you’re excited as fuck to spend it with them.

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Although Soonyoung has a lot of great points— and some not-so-great ones that are easily overshadowed by the good—, killing people for money sort of ruined his whole thing for you when you found out.

Okay, admittedly, it wasn’t an immediate end to your relationship when you first found a weapon hidden in his apartment in a convenient, quick to grab, but well concealed, location— you doubt he expected you to be so nosey and rummage around as much as you did. Nor the second or third time.

Not even the fourth when you also found a bloodstained shirt that he hadn’t disposed of simply because you bought it for him. Which, admittedly, probably only further encouraged him when you threw the shirt aside and tackled him to the bed to enthusiastically show him how endeared you were by his sentimental action.

It probably took far longer than it should’ve for you to end things with Soonyoung. Honestly, it only happened when he asked to move in together, and you realised that you would regularly see him coming home from jobs; beaten and bruised from fights, and his victim’s blood staining his clothes. That’s if he even made it home.

When you thought about it like that; always unsure if he’d make it back to you; if maybe one day, he would have to pay for his sins in a way that ripped him away from you before you were ready, you knew you couldn’t wait for that day to come.

So, you made the choice to lose him on your own terms and ended all contact with him in hopes that you would be too distanced in every way to ever know the day the worst happens to him.

Of course, Soonyoung wasn’t happy about that and immediately tried to change your mind; tried to promise that no-one can out maneuverer Hoshi; best assassin in the entire country! And then he tripped over the hem of his ridiculously baggy jeans and made you even more certain that the idiot is going to get himself killed and leave you with a space in your chest where he once lived.

You’d like to say that Soonyoung respected your wishes after that and left you alone; that he gave you the space you requested and moved on.

But Kwon Soonyoung is a lot of things, and a quitter isn’t one of them.

Honestly, at this point, you can’t even be surprised. At this point, you should be used to this utterly insane method of winning you back. But you really can’t be blamed for never getting used to your assassin ex-boyfriend killing anyone who causes you even the slightest bit of grief.

The neighbour you complained about once on social media for having an obnoxiously loud party the night before you had to get up ridiculously early for work; found dead in a ditch days later.

The coffee shop employee who always got your order wrong; found floating in the river the day after she gave you cow’s milk despite you making a point of reminding her that you’re lactose intolerant, resulting in hours in the bathroom with horrendous stomach cramps. Okay, maybe she was trying to hurt you, you can’t be sure, but you’re pretty sure that murder wasn’t the answer!

And first thing this morning, you walked into work only to find police all over the place and quickly learned that your boss was found face down at this desk only an hour before, with a poisoned cup of long-cold coffee infront of his unblinking eyes. And well, you think Soonyoung’s taken it too far this time.

Sure, your boss was a sexist pig who liked to degrade your work and compliment his shit head of a son instead— despite the nepo baby being absolutely useless at his job—, but you could grin and bear it. The pay’s really good, and at the end of the day, you do get to pick your clients; because despite how much your boss liked to pick on you, he also knew that you’re the best in the company and he couldn’t risk losing you.

Or well, was the best in the company would be more accurate. Because not long after you get home from work, you find Soonyoung already in your apartment, with bags packed by his feet, and words on his tongue you never wanted to hear.

“Babe, I fucked up,” he admits, already getting up from the armchair to take a tentative step towards you. He looks nervous, and regretful, but also a little panicked and urgent in a way that forces you to push the stream of pissed off scolding to the back of your throat for later.

“How, Soonyoung?” you question, moving further in without even bothering to remove your shoes; you can see he still has his on, and that gives you the worst feeling that this is far more pressing than keeping your apartment clean.

“Like…in the way that you’re now on the most wanted list, so we need to fucking run.”

In all that you could’ve imagined Soonyoung saying to you one day, those words never even remotely crossed your mind; didn’t even get in the far distance of your mental view and tease a glimpse of worry into you. You can’t be blamed for taking a few long moments to just stare in stunned disbelief at the assassin infront of you as you absorb what he’s said.

Thankfully, Soonyoung must understand your shock as he doesn’t rush you to respond. Then again, he never did rush you; he was always good like that. Now, you’re not quite as sure what he is. A fucking idiot, probably.

“Fuck you,” is the response you decide on, glaring at him slightly, and Soonyoung nods like he expected that; deserves that.

“You have time to shower and change into the clothes I left out; they’ll be best to travel in. I’ve packed everything that you can take,” he informs, motioning to the matching luggage sets by his feet. Matching sets he bought the two of you for the holiday you never got the chance to take; he had to go on a sudden job, and you were too busy at work by the time he returned wearing an eye patch and doing a shitty pirate impersonation while trying to hide his limp from you.

Maybe you’re as much as an idiot as him to have stayed with him for almost a year after that, despite being worried he’d never walk without pain again. He still gets twinges of pain now in his leg, and limps after doing strenuous activity, but he says as long as he can move and his vision remains as perfect as it’s always been, he’ll always be Hoshi. Part of you selfishly wished his eye injury was more severe than it was, then maybe he would’ve quit back then, and you could still be together and as in love as you once were.

But here you are, wishing the man had left when you broke up with him and never showed his face again. Yet, he just couldn’t let you go, and now, you’re somehow a wanted woman and need to flee the country with your batshit insane ex-boyfriend.

“You better fucking explain what you did as soon as it’s safe to sit and talk,” you warn, pointing a stern finger at the man as you walk past him.

“I will, I promise. I’m really fucking sorry; I never meant for this to happen.”

And there’s a lot to be said about Kwon Soonyoung, but he’s never lied to you when it matters.

Of course, with all Soonyoung’s done in his life, he knows a lot of people; a lot of people who owe him for something or the other; a lot of people he calls on to get the two of you safely out of the country and halfway across the world with the promise that they never have to see nor hear from him again. You kind of envy them for that, honestly.

Fleeing consists of weeks of careful travel; of hiding out; of being in such close quarters with Soonyoung that you truly debate shoving him over the edge of a boat on multiple occasions for doing this to you. You know it’d be easy enough physically; he wouldn’t see it coming at all.

But realistically, you’re no killer; you don’t even like killing spiders. Then again, neither does Soonyoung, so maybe that’s not the best comparison. The point is, no matter how much anger you have in your veins at the man for making you give up your entire independent life, to instead rely on him to keep you alive and running from the situation that he got you into without you knowing until it was too late, you could never hurt him.

Well, not that severely; you certainly like to whack his arm in punishment at every chance, and he lets you without complaint. He even readily offers up his limb when he sees the ire burning brighter in your eyes when he forces you into yet another tiny, ratty bed for the night while he sleeps on the floor by your side like a loyal guard dog.

It’s when you make that comparison— Soonyoung as your protective guard dog that would bite the face off a threat, then turn around to look at you with big, puppy-dog eyes as his tail wags and he silently asks to be called a good boy—, that you suddenly find it harder to take your anger out on him anymore, and instead turn away when you’re reminded of the shit show that your life now is thanks to him. Honestly, you think turning your back on him hurts more than your hits ever could, and that both pleases you, and makes your own heart ache further.

You go through weeks of it all, and it’s not until you arrive in some foreign country you don’t know the language of— nor know a thing about— and Soonyoung lets you drive for the first time since this started, that he finally tells you how he fucked up.

“Promise not to drive us off the cliff?” he requests out of the blue, a good half an hour into the drive; with him carefully directing you using the map that his final connection handed him, along with the car keys, forty minutes ago. A connection who pretty much wept with joy when the assassin Hoshi finally freed him from his debt. Well, you assume that’s what happened; you couldn’t understand a word the pair said, but it seems to be the general way of conversation every time the two of you part ways with one of the many people who once owed Hoshi a favour.

“No,” you answer simply, without hesitation. He sighs, and you’re very certain he expected you to answer that way yet hoped you wouldn’t. It’s crazy how, although you had a pretty solid grasp on Soonyoung seven months ago when you were still together, you now know him better than ever. But then again, you guess spending 24/7 with someone while on the run tends to do that.

“At least jump out the car before it falls over,” he says, pouting at you a little; something you only see from your peripheral vision, but you can still feel the full force of. Damn that rabid puppy-dog.

You sigh. “Even though I’d love to punish you and you alone for how monumentally you’ve fucked up my life, I wouldn’t be able to survive without you. I don’t even know where we are,” you respond matter-of-factly. “So, it’s both of us, or neither of us.”

“Oh, right,” he murmurs. “Maybe I should drive.” You give him an unimpressed look that makes him shrink slightly. “Or not.”

“Relax, I’m not going to drive off the cliff.” Funnily enough, that’s all you need to say for Soonyoung to relax, as if he really did think you’d drive the pair of you off the cliff just to punish him. Depending on what exactly he says, it’s not entirely off the table, but you think it’s better not to let him know that in case he refuses to tell you quite yet; you’ve waited far too long for this information to risk losing the chance.

“Good. I never want to hurt you or be the reason you’re hurt. I’d do anything to protect you,” he insists firmly, despite the fact you’ve never doubted that. Even if he has some weird ideas of what you need protecting from and the lengths morally acceptable to go to protect you. But, you suppose for being raised in the world he has, Soonyoung could be a lot worse. His heart is in the right place, at least.

“Then explain why you’ve made me leave my life behind to go to somewhere I can’t even speak the language. I doubt I’d know where we are on a map even if you told me the name.”

“Probably not; I only know because of my connection. I’ve never been to the exact place before,” he admits, and you’re a little unsteady about that; that even Soonyoung has no experience wherever he’s been leading you to for the past weeks. But still, you trust him. You’ve yet to decide if that’s a bad idea or not.

After pausing the topic to check the map and give you a heads up that you need to take the next exit away from the cliff’s edge, and to make sure you drink some water, Soonyoung finally answers.

“So, I don’t know if you noticed, but some people have been disappearing from your life the past months,” he starts, and you give him a quick, flat look in response that makes him smile sheepishly. “So, you did notice.”

“Bit hard not to, Soonyoung.”

“Yeah, well, they didn’t deserve a place in your life when they don’t make you happy!”

“Says the man who dragged me across the globe.” Soonyoung doesn’t say anything for long enough that you look over and notice the pained, kicked puppy-dog look on his face. You sigh and look forward again just in time to take the exit he earlier notified you of. “Please just get to the point,” you request, knowing that you’ll give in to something if he keeps looking at you all quiet and heartbroken like this. What that something is, you’re not sure, but you’re not ready to forgive him and don’t want to do something you’d regret.

“The cops noticed that you’re the common factor between the bodies,” he admits in a mumble, still aching from your words, but also reluctant to truly confess his giant fuck up to you. He doesn’t want you to be disappointed in him, and you know that, but you still are, and he knows it. “They didn’t realise there is a common factor between the bodies until they suddenly noticed your name crop up. And since your boss was found dead, they decided they have to act. They think you’re a serial killer and were going to bring you in; you’re pretty much top of their most wanted list now.”

It genuinely takes a handful of minutes for you to fully register and accept the words, before you realise exactly what he’s just told you, and the anger that had fizzled out over the past weeks is back with a vengeance.

Soonyoung yelps when you abruptly swerve the car along the road to cause his head to hit the window at his side; hard enough to hurt him but not damage the glass. “Ow! Fuck!” he exclaims as he clutches the impact spot, and you straighten the car back up to continue along the road as if nothing happened. “I deserve that.”

“More than that.”

“Yeah,” he agrees with a sigh, and slowly drops his hands to his lap as he tilts his head back against the headrest. “I know you won’t forgive me any time soon, if ever, but I really am sorry. If I could go back and be smarter about it, I would; I’d set someone up to take the fall and take any suspicion away from you.”

It’s really not at all what he should say, what a normal person would say, but you know it’s as good as you’re going to get without explaining that he should just not kill people if he had the chance for a do-over, and you just don’t have the mental energy to have that conversation.

You just sigh and keep driving.

It takes an hour of driving before you reach a dock, and Soonyoung swaps the car keys for tickets to the ferry to an island you can’t even see from where you stand.

There’s just enough time to get aboard with your luggage and stow it safely in the compartments beside the seats you pick near the windows before the ferry starts the two-hour long journey across the salty water to the place you have no choice but to accept as your new home.

“I don’t know what name your new ID will have,” is the first thing Soonyoung says to you almost an hour into the journey, voice quiet as he leans in close to you with one arm on the back of your seat; playing couple like you have been in order to avoid questions during your travels. Nobody questions a couple leaning in close and whispering to each other, just assumes it’s sweet nothings or filthy fantasies being passed in the air between them.

As much as you’d rather that Soonyoung doesn’t keep so close when you’re so mad at him, you know it really is the smartest move to remain under the radar and look like any other couple exploring the world together, so you never pull away.

“I still think it’s unfair you get to keep your name and mine has to change all the fucking time,” you grumble, leaning into him just so you can poke your fingers into his thigh a little harshly, reminding him that you’re not happy to be playing along— even if the way his fingers absently trace over your arm furthest from his is, admittedly, rather nice; but you’re not going to tell him that.

“I’m not in any government system, you are. People know Hoshi, not Soonyoung,” he explains with a shrug.

Although you’re not happy about it, you know that he’s right, so you just groan softly and lean your head onto his shoulder to get comfortable for the remainder of your journey across the sea.

Upon meeting land, Soonyoung seems a little lost for the first time as he glances around the sparse dock, the few buildings along the cobble street in front of you, and honestly, not much else.

After a few awkward seconds as he tries to gather his bearings, he motions you over to an old rickety bench— which he tries out before allowing you to sit— and leaves you there with the luggage by your feet, before he darts off to talk to a couple of locals standing and chatting outside of what you assume to be a grocery store of some kind, based on the faded, cartoonish fruit drawn onto the window.

It only takes a few minutes for Soonyoung to seemingly have befriended the two middle aged men, talking and laughing with them like old friends, before he motions to you with one hand, the other pressed to his chest. Based on the expressions the two older men turn to look at you with, you just know that Soonyoung is spinning some tale of his endless love and devotion to you.

You do your best not to linger on the thought; especially not the knowledge that he doesn’t even need to lie to them. Soonyoung still loves you, he doesn’t hide it at all, though you wish he would. You’ve spent seven months trying your best to get over him, and you always think you’ve completely succeeded until he looks at you with nothing but adoration in his eyes and tenderness tilting his lips up, and your heart skips a beat, reminding you how easily it would be to race for him. It takes everything in you to stop it.

Not long later, you’re in the backseat of a little car, luggage piled up next to you due to the lack of a boot, and Soonyoung in the seat in front of you as one of the men kindly drives the pair of you northwards across the island.

Up until the man pulls up to the northernmost dock, in another little village— though this one a little more lively and populated—, you really couldn’t imagine how small the island is. It only took an hour to drive from the southernmost dock where you started, to this one. Even Soonyoung seems surprised when the man parks and must announce that you’re at your destination.

Quickly, Soonyoung thanks the man, and thanks to Soonyoung having taught you a few basic phrases on the ferry ride over, you also manage to get out a stilted thanks— which the kind man beams at— before he helps you and Soonyoung gather all your belongings.

Then, not even a minute later, you’re watching the man drive away, and wondering what kind of a life you’re going to live here.

“So, what now?” you wonder, turning to peer up at Soonyoung while shielding your eyes from the early afternoon sun. He’s busy looking around, clearly searching for something, eyes roaming the dock, the people, the buildings, and streets you can see from where you stand.

“Mm, we find– ah! There!” he exclaims, lighting up when he finds whatever he was looking for. And then to your surprise, he leaves you standing there all alone as he runs off with an excited yell of “Bunny!”

Utterly bewildered, and even more so when you hear his name being yelled back, you look over and find him running into the open arms of a rapidly approaching woman. Soonyoung’s arms are open just as wide, and their smiles are matching beams that only grow when they collide and wrap each other up in a hug so tight you find yourself suddenly questioning your own place at Soonyoung’s side. Though you quickly shake that thought away and remind yourself that you’re not at his side, not like that. Not like you used to be.

Part of you wants to walk over to join the pair, but the other part of you doesn’t want to intrude, and you also don’t want to carry all the luggage on your own, so you just remain in place and wait for Soonyoung to return to your side.

Thankfully, it’s only a couple of minutes later that he rushes back to your side, scoops up most of the luggage in one arm— leaving you with your backpack— and slings his free arm around you to urge you towards the woman.

“Baby, this is Bunny!” he introduces, as if that should mean something to you.

“Uh, hi,” you offer awkwardly, not really sure how to navigate this, but at least it seems that this woman speaks your native tongue, so that makes it a little easier.

“Hi, Myla!” Bunny replies, and it takes you a moment to realise that she thinks that’s your name. You glance at Soonyoung and find his expression looking kind of dopily smitten, yet also shy at the same time, so you reason he obviously knows the story behind the name and decide to ask him later in private. “It’s great to finally meet you, and it’ll be nice to have a same aged friend around. Honestly, other than my husband, everyone is middle aged around here; on most of the island really.”

“Oh, husband?” you question, eyebrows raising slightly in surprise as something in your chest settles at the information.

“Yep!” she confirms, lifting her left hand to show the simple silver band on her ring finger. “Five years this summer.” She looks at her ring with so much reverence that without even meeting her husband, you know he owns her entire heart and soul. It’s utterly precious, and you don’t know the woman yet, but you hope her husband looks at his own ring in the same tender way.

“Wow, congratulations,” you say, smiling at her finally, and she lights up even brighter.

“Thanks! You must be tired after the long journey, I’ll show you to your house!” she enthuses and links her arm with yours to lead you at her side ahead of Soonyoung. When you glance over your shoulder at him, he looks utterly content to toddle along behind you, so you just face forward again to memorise the journey to your new home.

It takes literally minutes to arrive at the front door of the cosy little detached house, just up the hilled street overlooking the dock and main street. There are only a couple other buildings along this street— which seems to lead only to a large expanse of grass and wildflowers—, and they’re all stout little houses with enough space between each for another handful of houses. It’s a vast difference from the cramped apartment building you spent the past years of your life in; from seeing nothing but concrete and towering city blocks no matter where you turned. You won’t say it aloud, but you quite like this.

“This is it!” Bunny informs brightly as she hands you a key ring with a couple keys attached, and motions to the door. Obligingly, you step forward to unlock the door and push it open. “Let me give you the grand tour,” she says once the three of you are inside, with the door shut and shoes toed off onto the matted area before the beige tiles lining the entrance hall.

Despite looking fairly small from the outside, the house is actually rather spacious inside, with plenty of windows to allow natural light in and give a spacious feel. 

Immediately to the left upon entering the house, there’s a door that leads to a small storage room— which already contains cleaning supplies, including a mop and broom placed neatly to the side, and Bunny assures you both that she and her husband put them to use only the day before, ready for your arrival. Oddly enough, there’s a door at the back of the closet, and you’re surprised to find a wet room there, but Bunny quickly explains that the weather can get pretty wet here, and that leads to some muddy moments, so all the houses are built with a wet room near the entrance so that mud can be washed off instead of risking it getting smeared along the way to the main bathroom upstairs.

The door coming off the right of the entrance hall leads to the living area; already containing some furniture that Bunny promises is new, but you’re welcome to replace with your own tastes when you want; though you’re pretty happy with what’s already here, and you know Soonyoung just doesn’t care about furniture. The man really had some questionable items in his apartment when you first met and only changed them when you suggested he at least tried to not live like a broke college student taking any free furniture he happened across.

The back of the hall opens directly into the kitchen, which curves around to the left to an empty room that you assume is a separate dining room. Though there’s already a four-seater table in the back right corner of the kitchen with the light from the window on either wall shining down on it, so you really don’t know what will happen with the empty room, honestly.

After going up the stairs in the entrance hall, Bunny quickly shows you the bathroom— with all new fixtures, she proudly informs you—, before glossing over the empty room, and ending in the biggest room, the master bedroom; containing a double wardrobe, large chest of drawers, dressing table, and a large bed already set up for two. The only bed in the house.

“I know you’re not actually together, but I’ve told everyone that you are,” Bunny discloses, that bright tone usually in her voice lessening to something more neutral, even a tinge apologetic you like to think. You look at her and she twists her lips up into a slightly sheepish smile. “They’d kick up a fuss about friends of opposing sexes living together, so this, believe it or not, is the lesser of two evils.”

“Right,” you mumble, understanding her point, but not particularly pleased about it.

“Yeah. Well, happy relationship, I guess!” she claps her hands together then turns and heads back downstairs, so you and Soonyoung follow all the way to the front door to watch as she shoves her feet back into her sturdy shoes. “I’ll leave you two to settle, but come by at around 5-ish, Jeonghan will be awake from his afternoon nap then.”

“Your husband!” Soonyoung crows excitedly before you can ask if Jeonghan is her child and inadvertently saves you from that awkward moment. You mentally thank him for doing something he isn’t even aware of, though keep your mouth shut and let the pair converse.

“Yeah!” Bunny cheers, lighting all the way back up now they’re talking about her husband. “He gets up early to go fishing, so he always naps when he’s back. He’s excited to meet you both and has already planned dinner. You don’t have any allergies or dietary requirements, do you, Myla?” she asks, and it takes you a moment to remember that this Myla is you. The new you.

“No, nothing like that,” you assure, and she nods happily.

“Great, because I don’t want my Hannie to get upset if his careful planning is for nothing. So, see you both at 5, dinner will be at 6,” she says.

“Okay,” Soonyoung agrees easily as Bunny opens the door and steps outside.

“Wait!” you call incredulously when she starts to walk down the path. Bunny and Soonyoung both look at you questioningly. “Where do you live?”

“Oh!” Bunny laughs, and Soonyoung giggles along, both only now realising that she failed to inform you of her place of residence already. “At the top,” she says, pointing up the hill, only one house between you. “I’ll introduce you to our mutual neighbours another time; they’re away this week visiting family on the mainland.”

“Ah, right, okay,” you answer with a nod, Soonyoung nodding along too, before Bunny just waves once more then strolls off back down the hill.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I need a snack,” Soonyoung says as you shut the front door, then he immediately turns and scuttles off to the kitchen.

By the time you join him after making sure the door is properly shut, and familiarising yourself with the locking mechanism and bolt, he’s already cutting up a selection of fruit he must’ve pulled from the fridge, because you know the fruit bowl was empty not ten minutes ago.

“Soonyoung,” you start as you near to lean on the other side of the island counter as him.

In response, he only hums; eyes focused on the shining knife in his hands as he skilfully chops. Admittedly, Soonyoung’s knife skills have always impressed you; it’s just his cooking skills that are lacking. Though he’s certainly improved a lot since you first met and you declared he needed to learn how to cook meals, not live off takeout and ready meals all the time.

“Myla?” you question; Soonyoung immediately falls still, and you notice his eyes widen where they’re still aimed down at his task. “Well?”

“It…it’s short for ‘my love’,” he admits quietly. You can see a hint of pink starting to stain the tips of his ears. “Be–because that’s what I always call you when I talk about you to her.”

“I didn’t even know she exists until today,” you comment, deciding to move past the admittance of sweet name he’s called you enough for there to be a shortened version that Bunny decided to dub you.

“Ah, yeah, well,” he replies vaguely with a shrug. “Just how it is, really.” You don’t know what that’s supposed to mean, and don’t have the energy to try and guess or pry a better answer out of him, so you just hum and accept the piece of fruit he slides across the chopping board to you silently.

“So, do we have some back story I need to learn? Not that I will be able to speak to the locals unless they speak my language, but I should still know.”

“They only really speak the local language here,” he confirms with a little nod.

“You’ll teach it to me, right?” He lifts his head to look at you. “What? If we’re going to be here for the rest of our lives, I’m going to need to be able to speak to more than just you and Bunny.”

“And Jeonghan; you can talk to him.”

“Which is a genuine relief, but I’d still like to be able to go to the local store and talk to them instead of just awkwardly paying in silence.”

“I can do all the grocery shopping,” he offers, pouting a little. “You don’t have to do anything. Let me take care of you.”

“I will literally go insane if I don’t get to live as normally as possible, Soonyoung. You’re not doing everything, especially if that confines me to the house,” you warn.

Immediately, he puts down the knife and shakes his empty hands in the air, eyes a little wide in slight panic. “I didn’t mean like that! I’m not telling you that you can’t! You can do whatever you want! I’m not in charge of you!”

“Correct.”

“I just meant…I want to take care of you and do everything. I won’t argue about you taking care of yourself too, of course, and doing whatever you want as long as it doesn’t endanger you, just…I want to look after you too. I’ll do anything you want,” he offers, voice turning soft and tender, betraying his still present and endless love for you.

You just sigh, which he mirrors softly as he turns back down to the knife and chopping board, knowing it means that you no longer feel the same as him, and still have no plan of taking him back, of loving him again.  

“I’ll teach you the language, and the culture as much as I can, but Bunny and Jeonghan will be better at that part, seeing as they’ve lived here for almost five years now,” he says, voice still a little too soft, a little aching around the edges, but he’s trying to not linger on his broken heart for both of your sakes.

“Okay, thank you. And our story?”

“Mm, not sure, but I’m sure Bunny will fill us in over dinner; she came up with it all and should have our new documents ready.”

“Alright.” You nod and push away from the counter after swallowing down a final piece of fruit. “I’m going to go shower, maybe nap.”

“Okay,” he agrees with a nod as he watches you get further away from him. “Rest well.”

Although Soonyoung assures you that Bunny won’t expect anything, you feel rude turning up to a stranger’s house for dinner without a gift, so he obligingly walks around the village with you until you find the local store, and within, a small section of fresh flowers.

Of course, you don’t understand what the shopkeeper says to the pair of you, nor do you have any money; but Soonyoung handles it all, somehow without exchanging any cash, and then the two of you are on your way.

“What did you say to her?” you wonder as the two of you head back toward the hill, the beautifully wrapped bouquet cradled carefully in your arms to not risk damage to the simple yet elegant blooms.

“Hm?”

“You didn’t pay.”

“I don’t have money yet,” he reminds, making you stop still and look at him with wide, shocked eyes. “What?” he laughs as he stops a few steps ahead of you yet turned to face you. “Where would I have gotten cash from, babe?”

“I don’t know, maybe you had some already, or Bunny left some in the house.”

“Nope…well, I didn’t actually look, but she didn’t say she would,” he reasons with a shrug.

“Then why did you agree to go to the store with no money?!”

“I figured they’d be willing to work on a trade system. I know Bunny fixes a lot of stuff in exchange for goods and other services here, so I thought I could offer to do something for them.”

“And what exactly are you going to do in return for these?” you question, nodding down to the flowers in your arms.

“No idea.”

“Soonyoung!” you scold, reaching out to hit his arm.

“Ow! What?!” he clutches the impact spot, even if you didn’t hit him hard enough to actually hurt him.

“You can’t just offer to do things without knowing what they are! What if you’re asked to do something really fucked up?!”

“I mean…I’m pretty sure I’ve already done more fucked up stuff than what that lady will ask of me.”

“I dunno, she kept staring at your arms,” you comment, letting your own eyes lower to where his biceps are stretching the short sleeves of his obnoxiously floral shirt. You’d like to say it’s something Bunny left at the house amongst the items she procured to allow you and Soonyoung to blend in with the local lifestyle easier. But no, Soonyoung has been wearing that same shirt regularly since you first met over two years ago. For a man trained to blend in, he wears some really bold outfits.

“And?” You can’t help but roll your eyes before turning back the way you came from, with every intention of returning the flowers so that Soonyoung doesn’t owe a mystery— and potentially sexualised— debt to this stranger. “Hey, hey, baby, wait,” he calls, whining a little as he rushes forward to gently grab your arm to make you stop and face him again. “What’re you doing?”

“Returning the flowers, obviously. I’m not going to let you get tricked into doing heavy lifting topless just to be ogled and sexualised, all for some flowers.”

For a moment, Soonyoung just blinks at you, then a dumbass smile lifts his face and curves his eyes with how his cheeks bunch up. “You don’t want other women to check me out?”

“Did you even listen to what I said?” you deadpan, unimpressed.

“Yep. You don’t want other women ogling me!” he declares with a bright, dopey grin, practically singing his words in his joy.

“You know what? Forget it, she can ask you to do the macarena naked for all I care,” you decide with a frustrated sigh before stalking back off towards the hill.

You know that no matter what you say right now, the smooth part of Soonyoung’s brain will rule over logic and reason, and he won’t understand that you just don’t want him to potentially get sexualised for a favour. Even if it’s only that he’s stared at as his arms flex in his shirt while he moves the heavy items the elder woman can’t move around the store on her own, you don’t want it to happen without Soonyoung actually wanting to be checked out. You’ve had similar things happen to you so many times that you know that, even if in the moment it’s easy to ignore, if you let it happen once, people will take advantage; and soon, you become an unwilling sexual symbol always touched by unwanted, leering gazes.

Maybe tomorrow you can try to talk to him about it when he’s not caught on the false thought that you don’t want anyone else to look at him, as if you’ve made some claim over him. Even if he still thinks of himself as your property entirely, you haven’t thought of him as yours in a long time now, and you don’t want him to get incorrect ideas about the current state of your relationship.

But for now, you walk off ahead and ignore his delighted little giggles trailing behind you as he obediently follows along to Bunny’s house.

Though, as you get closer to the top of the hill, you slow down to let Soonyoung join your side, then move closer to him, feeling a little anxious over what you’re about to step into. Sure, Bunny seemed genuinely lovely— and very bright and bubbly— but you don’t know what her husband is like, nor do you really know her in any way that matters; so, entering their home to eat food they cooked, and talk about subjects you’re not currently aware of, is understandably making you nervous.

“What’s he like?” you ask in a quick whisper when you’re only metres away from the edge of the path leading up to the front door.

“No idea,” Soonyoung replies with a shrug. “Never met him. But Bunny’s obsessed with him and always has been, so I think that says a lot about him.”

“Or her.”

“Mm, yeah. But I know her, and she’s got good taste in people to befriend.”

“She’s friends with you, and you murder people for a living,” you point out in a mumble.

Soonyoung barks out a quick laugh. “True! Or, well, was true, I’m retired now, baby. My only purpose now is to dote on you.” You don’t have a chance to respond to that— not that you really know what to say in response, so maybe it’s a blessing that he doesn’t wait for a reply—, as you’re now at the front door and Soonyoung’s leaning over the step to knock the pale blue painted wood.

It doesn’t take long for the door to be answered, and the man who pulls it open genuinely makes your brain lag for a second. He, like Soonyoung, is wearing a shirt with far more print than any normal person should look good in— yet both unfairly look great in the busy patterns—, though his is long sleeved and neatly folded up to his forearms; it looks silky and expensive; it looks like it was made to be worn by him and him alone. Yet in complete contrast to the fancy, perfectly creaseless dress shirt, he’s wearing ratty old sweatpants with knees worn so thin that you can see glimpses of his skin underneath. And still, he looks beautiful.

“Hi! You must be Myla!” he says, greeting you first, and urging you in with a wave of his hand. “I’m Jeonghan,” he announces when you’ve stepped inside as requested, and he can carefully hug you— making sure to not press too close to be uncomfortable for complete strangers, or to squish the bouquet in your arms.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you say, not sure what else you’re supposed to say or do when meeting a complete stranger who you didn’t even know existed until a few hours ago. But at least it’s not a lie. Something about Jeonghan feels so pure, that you have a good feeling about getting to know him; you think he’ll be a great friend given the chance. And you find that you really do want to take that chance.

“You too, Bunny has told me so much about you!”

“Really?” you question surprised, and Jeonghan hums, nodding. “Oh…” You look at Soonyoung and find him very intently removing his shoes, tips of his ears pinkened. You’re not sure what exactly Bunny has heard from the man— and then passed on to her husband— but you’re pretty sure it involves a lot of Soonyoung praising you, if his suddenly bashful posture is anything to go off.

“And of course, Soonyoung,” Jeonghan coos, turning to the man and immediately bringing him in for a hug as soon as Soonyoung is fully upright again instead of leaning over to neaten up his shoes on the mat. “I genuinely didn’t think I’d ever get to meet you, so I’m really happy you’re here,” he says, voice a little softer in a way that makes you look away, feeling like you’re interrupting a special moment here.

“Me too,” Soonyoung replies in a matching tone, holding the man a little tighter. “Thank you for being by her side these years when I couldn’t,” he adds, and now you definitely know it’s a moment you shouldn’t be a part of— even if you’re not quite sure what it all means exactly—, so you decide to shuffle down the entrance hall after putting your own shoes on the mat besides Soonyoung’s.

The house seems to be set up in the exact same way as your own, with the living room to the right of the entrance hall. When you peer inside, you find a comfortable, welcoming room full of personal touches of the pair— including a large photo of the two of them on one wall, both looking so happy and in love as they beam at one another—, yet no Bunny. You venture further down the hall to the back of the house and find her in the kitchen, fiddling with a handheld mixer she seems to be in the process of fixing at the table.

“Hi,” you greet as you approach, making her look up and smile brightly at you.

“Hey,” she replies, lifting one hand to wave, screwdriver within wiggling in the air, before she lowers it again. “Sorry, just give me a minute to finish this, then I’ll be a good host.”

“It’s okay, I don’t mind you just being normal and relaxed; I don’t expect anything,” you assure, and sit with her at the table to watch intrigued as she works. “I honestly didn’t even know hand mixers can be fixed at home.”

“Hannie makes me fix everything for everyone in the village. I think he mostly just likes watching me work more than anything,” she muses with a pleased little smile. “I didn’t know how to fix any appliances until we moved here; I was just a mechanic before, so I had to learn a lot, and still am. But I haven’t found out how to say no to him yet. Not that I want to.”

“You really love him,” you comment, amused, but also already endeared with the pair and the love they don’t try to hide for one another.

“With everything in me. I’d do anything for him,” Bunny says, looking more serious than you’ve seen her so far. There’s something in her eyes that makes you think that maybe, she and Soonyoung are more similar than you previously assumed.

“How’s it coming along?” Jeonghan asks as he and Soonyoung enter the kitchen and head right over to the table. Soonyoung takes the seat at your side, resting his arm casually on the back of your chair, while Jeonghan stands on Bunny’s right and naturally puts a hand on the back of her neck, thumb soothing over her skin thoughtlessly.

“I think I’ve almost got it,” Bunny answers, preening when Jeonghan’s fingers squeeze ever so slightly in an approving gesture, a soft smile on his features.

“Well done, darling. Now,” He looks at you and Soonyoung. “Let me get you both a drink. What would you like? We have beer, wine, juice, water, and probably other things too, I just can’t remember right this second.”

“A beer would be great, thanks, Jeonghan,” Soonyoung replies with a grin.

“Only one,” you warn Soonyoung, making him pout. “You’re a lightweight, Soonie, I’m not carrying you home later.”

“Fine,” he concedes with a sigh. “I’ll improve my tolerance now I have the chance!” he decides. “We’ll have boys’ nights with beer involved, right, Jeonghan?” he asks, looking at the standing male with round, puppy-dog eyes.

Evidently, you’re not the only person weak for them, as Jeonghan visibly melts and nods with a sweet, obliging smile, making Soonyoung let out a happy noise. “And what about you, Myla? What would you like to drink?”

“I’m good with anything, thank you,” you reply.

“Beers all round!” Jeonghan decides, then turns to wander off to one of two fridges standing tall in the kitchen.

“Babe,” Soonyoung murmurs, tapping your shoulder with the hand still behind you, so you look at him questioningly. He nods towards your chest, making you look down and realise that you’re still holding the bouquet.

“Oh!” You shuffle to lift the flowers up. “Uhm, we got these for you both,” you announce, making the couple look at you curiously. The way both of their expressions turn soft at the sight of the flowers, and their lips turn up into matching little smiles, makes you feel shy all of a sudden, unused to such sweet expressions turned on you.

“Oh, that’s so sweet of you,” Bunny says. “Angel, can you find a vase out while you’re up?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan agrees easily, already lowering and vanishing behind the kitchen island— you assume to open the cupboard where they must keep their vases. “Which one, darling; the white or clear one?”

“Mm, I think the clear one,” Bunny replies after thoughtfully eyeing the bouquet you hold, her hands still holding tools and the in-pieces mixer.

“Do we have a vase?” Soonyoung asks, looking at Bunny, who shakes her head. “We’ll have to get one,” he decides as he looks at you. “You used to love when I bought you flowers, and the ones here are so much fresher than the city we lived.”

“They are, it was hard to pick, even if the selection wasn’t as broad as back home… There, back there,” you respond, correcting yourself after remembering that the city is no longer your home, nor will it ever be again.

“If you like flowers, you’ll love the meadow at the top of the hill,” Jeonghan says as he approaches, and accepts the bouquet when you lift it in offer. “More wildflowers than I’ve ever seen, and the locals have looked after it well for decades now, including planting a bunch of stuff. There’s even some fruit growing up there, and we’re all free to pick it.”

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” you reply, lips curling up at the thought. “Do you bake with the fruit?” you question, glancing at the mixer shortly.

“Neither of us know how to bake,” Bunny answers as Jeonghan returns to the island to work on carefully arranging the bouquet in the simple glass vase.

“How did your mixer break if you don’t bake?” you wonder, utterly bewildered.

“Oh, it’s not ours. It’s one of the locals’.” She shrugs, and motions vaguely to Jeonghan, referring back to her earlier words about Jeonghan ‘making’ her fix everything for everyone. You just nod in understanding with a little hum; Soonyoung gives the pair of you a questioning look but doesn’t ask what the silent exchange means.

Not long later, Bunny is finished with the mixer and has tidied up everything, just in time to help Jeonghan cook up a truly delicious smelling dinner. You have no idea what they’re cooking, but you’re excited to try it, and have full intention of asking for the recipe afterwards.

You even offer to help cook, but the couple adamantly refuse on grounds of you being their guest and tell you to stay at the table with Soonyoung. Though, even with the pair across the kitchen, conversation between the four of you doesn’t stop without the need for any of you to raise your voices, even with music softly playing in the background from a source you haven’t yet noticed— not that you’ve tried to.

You’re pleasantly surprised by how easy the pair are to get along with; how natural it feels to be in their home and talk and laugh together. It’s more than you expected to have in your new life; someone other than Soonyoung to be at ease around, and now you have two.

Even once all four seats at the table are full and you’re all enjoying the truly delicious meal, conversation ebbs and flows naturally with no awkward pauses. You’re already looking forward to the next time the four of you hang out and tonight hasn’t even ended yet. Honestly, you don’t think you even felt this way about spending time with your friends back in the city, and it makes you wonder if you were ever as close and content with them as you believed.

“Are there any jobs going around here?” you wonder when plates are empty yet still on the table as the four of you just relax in your seats with your drinks— fresh beers for all but Soonyoung, who keeps pouting into his glass of water— as you let your food go down comfortably.

“You’re not getting a job,” Soonyoung complains, pouting at you. “I said I’m going to look after you. You can do other things, just let me earn the money. I made you lose all of your hard-earned savings, so I need to at least pay that back before you earn a single penny.”

“I’m not used to not working, I’ll go crazy,” you reply, features twisting a little with the thought of having nothing to do all day until Soonyoung returns from work to entertain you. There isn’t even a TV in your house, or computer, and you’re not sure if there’s even any good internet service out here, honestly, so you couldn’t stream any shows or movies even if you did have a device to watch them on.

“Don’t you have any hobbies?” Bunny questions, tilting her head a little.

“She worked all the time,” Soonyoung answers in your place, with a dramatic groan. “I always tried to convince her to work less and take time to look after herself, but she didn’t listen.”

“Considering what your job was, Kwon Soonyoung, you were never in any position to tell anyone to look after themself,” you remind firmly.

“Ha, she’s got you there,” Bunny sniggers. “You were the best and the most fearless; you were always in stupid situations nobody else would brave.”

“That’s because he’s a fucking idiot,” you grumble, and she nods in agreement while Soonyoung whines and pouts at your side. “So, jobs?”

“Hobbies,” Soonyoung immediately corrects, getting over his sulking at being insulted to instead return to his insistence that he’ll provide for the two of you.

“Do you like fishing?” Jeonghan questions, and you shake your head, making him pout a little. “I was going to say you can come out on the boat with me whenever you want. Weather permitting, I’m out every morning.”

“Oh, you have a fishing boat?” Soonyoung asks, leaning forward with big eyes sparkling with innocent intrigue.

“I do! My pride and joy,” Jeonghan coos, and tilts aside to lean his head on his wife’s shoulder. “My darling fixed her up for me in our first months here and keeps her in sea-safe condition.”

“I’ve always wanted to try fishing,” Soonyoung says honestly.

You can’t help but give him a surprised little look; you really thought you knew everything about Soonyoung. He’s never been shy about sharing his thoughts and feelings with you, and once you learned that he was an assassin, it seemed like there wasn’t a secret left in his heart around you. Then again, you never knew Bunny existed until today, and the pair seem really close, so you shouldn’t be surprised that there’s more he’s kept from you.

“Really?” Jeonghan asks with an excited little gasp as he sits up straighter. As soon as Soonyoung nods in confirmation, Jeonghan beams and leans forward, closer to Soonyoung, even if the two men are sitting diagonally to one another. “I’d love to have a helper come out with me!” he enthuses; Soonyoung is already lighting up with his own excitement. “You don’t get seasick, I assume?”

“Nope, even in storms, I’m good,” Soonyoung assures, which just makes you wonder when he’s been on a boat in a storm, but you quickly push it aside and decide not to worry about what Hoshi got up to in the past, it doesn’t matter anymore.

“Great! Though I do,” Jeonghan admits, and you notice Bunny sigh softly, looking like she really doesn’t like that her prone to sea-sickness husband insists on going out on a fishing boat every single morning, but she won’t try to stop him. Maybe she once did but eventually relented, though something in you says that she never even tried to argue in the first place. “So, you can drive to the fishing spots and let me rest so that I can fish quicker once we’re still. I usually have to spend half an hour just sitting until the nausea and dizziness goes, but if you’re driving, I can sit the whole time and won’t feel as bad!”

“Sure! I haven’t driven a boat in a while, but I’m sure I can handle it.”

“You can drive a boat?” you mumble in surprise. Soonyoung just looks at you and nods, eyes still sparkling with the thought of going out fishing. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, I guess it never came up,” he reasons with a shrug. “I didn’t purposely hide it from you; I promise I only do that with good reason.”

“Now I’m wondering what you’ve purposely hid from me.”

“Uh…Injuries mostly,” he admits. “Though you usually figure those out when you see me, so I’ve said I’ve been away for work when I’ve been recovering from bad injury, so you didn’t see and worry.”

“As opposed for vanishing for months at a time on a fake job?” you deadpan.

“Yeah?” his voice tilts up, knowing by your reaction that he did wrong there, but he doesn’t quite understand how and is no longer confident in his own response.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?”

“You’ve said,” he replies with a nod, not at all offended. You just hum and face the couple opposite you again; they’re both watching amused. “Can I really go fishing with you?” Soonyoung asks Jeonghan, eagerly returning to the conversation.

“Of course! I’d love to have company! It’s early starts though, out before sunrise,” Jeonghan warns.

“I’m used to that.”

“Ah, right, of course.” Jeonghan nods a little and tucks his hair behind his ear out of his face when the strands dangle infront of his eye. “We’ll count tomorrow as a trial, to see if you really do want to take up fishing with me every morning, and if you do, we’ll discuss pay.”

“Pay?” Soonyoung asks, perking up. “As in a job?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Angel,” Bunny starts softly, making Jeonghan look at her. “You don’t even catch anything to sell, just bring home,” she reminds. Jeonghan says nothing, just continues to look at her; it’s only a few seconds of silent eye contact before Bunny visibly relents with a quick few nods. “You’re so right, you deserve to have someone to help you with all your work.”

Jeonghan immediately lights back up, beaming with so much joy that you truly don’t blame Bunny for caving so easily when this is her prize. He turns back around to look at Soonyoung again, immediately beginning to inform him of their plan for tomorrow and potential catches; while you and Bunny make short eye contact and share an amused, yet endeared, little smile for the genuine excitement shared between the two men.

Due to the men having such an early start, you and Soonyoung return home a little before 9pm, when Jeonghan’s starting to look sleepy enough to fall asleep on his wife’s shoulder despite still doing his best to be active in conversation.

Honestly, you’re pretty tired yourself. Weeks of travelling with your body and mind constantly on guard ready for any potential danger, will take more than just a single mid-afternoon nap to recover from. So, you’re happy to get an early night, and get the chance to rest as long as you want.

In complete contrast, you’re pretty sure that Soonyoung is fine to stay up for some more hours; he’s never needed much sleep. Or, at least, he’s been trained to function better on little sleep than a civilian could ever hope to. It’ll catch up to him eventually if he doesn’t get into good habits now, you’re certain of that, but you know it’ll also take him a while to get out of the habit of relying on the bare minimum to survive. You’ll try to get him into better habits soon enough, but for now, you’re too tired to even try, so you’ll leave him to look after himself.

“I’m going to get an early night,” you say when you’ve both removed your shoes and Soonyoung is already heading to the living room.

He stops at your words and turns to look at you. “Oh?”

“Mm, the past weeks have taken it out of me.”

“Ah, right, right. Sorry, kinda forgot about all that already,” he admits in a little mumble. “Not the whole ruining your life thing; I’ll always feel guilty as fuck about that. I just meant that it’s not normal for you. You…handled it a lot better than I expected, I won’t lie. You didn’t complain or ask to rest at all, even if you looked at me like you wanted to push me over the railing on like every boat we went on.”

“You noticed that then.”

“Wait! You really did?!” he squawks, eyes wide and arms flailing a little. “Babe! I was joking!”

“You ruined my life,” you remind flatly, and his arms drop down, face falling too.

“Yeah, I did. I know I can’t make it up to you, but I’m going to do everything I can to give you the best life here possible.”

“I know.” And you really do; you know Soonyoung will go above and beyond to make you happy, especially if he’s the reason you’re not in the first place.

Your confidence in your response, in him, makes Soonyoung’s gaze round out a little, his lips to turn up a little— adoring. “I’ll take the couch,” he says, not an offer but a statement; already decided, with nothing you can do or say to change his mind. Not that you plan to, you think he deserves to sleep on the couch and let you take the bed for what he’s done. Still, you appreciate it and give him a grateful little nod. “Sleep well, my love.”

You pause at the term you haven’t heard him call you in months, the truth to it, before you turn and leave with a simple “Good night, Soonyoung,” floating in the air behind you and the love in his eyes haunting your dreams.

There’s a lot to be said about Kwon Soonyoung, but that he doesn’t love you with everything in him, isn’t one of those things.

As it turns out, Soonyoung loves fishing.

From the very first morning, he returns home with bright eyes and a bounce in his step, excited to tell you about everything he caught, or failed to catch is more accurate. Apparently, neither Soonyoung nor Jeonghan are particularly skilled at fishing, but they don’t care. Jeonghan has always loved the calm he feels fishing, and Soonyoung quickly discovers he enjoys it too; it’s a huge contrast to the high energy life he’s lived for the past three decades with his work and training, so he really enjoys finally getting the chance to just exist without worries.

On that first morning, they catch nothing between them— mostly due to Jeonghan having to teach Soonyoung everything, and Soonyoung’s willingness to ask questions about it all, glad for Jeonghan’s endless patience— but the second morning, Soonyoung succeeds in his first ever catch, and you know that he’s found what he wants to spend the rest of his life doing.

Soonyoung may not be a great fishman yet— or potentially ever— but the thrill in his eyes, the content of his smile as he watches you eat the food he literally provided, is all you need to see to know he’ll go out every single day to bring home whatever he can, just to watch you eat well.

So, Soonyoung has a job pretty much from the first full day on the island; he gets up hours before you and is out until the sun is high in the sky, working as hard as he can while still taking advantage of the calm activity, and enjoying bonding with his new friend. You’re proud of him, in a way, for being so immediately successful and settled in this new life.

Yet, there’s a sour part in you that finds it so fucked that although this relocation and general ruining of your life— that you spent a decade on your own building in that city— is his fault entirely, he’s the one thriving while you’re utterly lost.

Admittedly, it takes you almost a week to recover physically from the past weeks, as now that you know you’re safe, your body decides to break down a little and force you to feel like you’ve gained the worst flu of your life. But thankfully, that passes with a few days of mostly sleeping it away and only getting up when you know Soonyoung will be home, so that you don’t worry him. You know that he’d refuse to go out on the boat if he knows you aren’t feeling good, so that he can look after you and nurse you back to health. But although you think it’s unfair that he’s so happy when you’re not, you never want to take that from him. You’re envious and hurting, not a selfish asshole.

Yet once you’re all better and have your energy back, you find yourself just sitting on the sofa and wondering what the fuck you’re supposed to do if you’re this lost after only a few days up on your feet.

So, although the house was spotless when you moved in— thanks to Bunny and Jeonghan—, and it hasn’t been long enough to get filthy, you scrub it from top to bottom. Just to give yourself something to do. But there’s little furniture or places for any dirt and dust to hide, so it doesn’t take more than two mornings to achieve.

Thankfully, once Soonyoung is back from work, he always hovers around you. Although it could easily be suffocating that he doesn’t seem to want to do anything but be wherever you are, doing whatever you’re doing, you’re honestly glad for his company. He’s always been good at entertaining you and distracting you without even realising it, so you ignore the ire and envy you feel towards him and just let him exist at your side like he did all those months back.

A part of you doesn’t want to admit how nice it is working side by side with Soonyoung again, cooking together, doing chores together, just being together. Of course, it’s not the together he wants, but he doesn’t push in any way and simply accepts whatever you give him with an eager smile on his face.

Still, as much as the afternoons and evenings are lovely— especially when the two of you meet with Bunny and Jeonghan—, the mornings kind of feel like personalised hell. You’re so fucking bored, you fear you might go insane and head back out on the run in the big wide world, just for something to do. Obviously, you don’t want to do that, but damn, you really don’t know what you’re supposed to do to pass the mornings.

It comes to you like some kind of weird epiphany when you’re sitting side by side with Jeonghan in the lounge at his house, both of you watching Bunny and Soonyoung argue over the rules of the obscure little board game the four of you are playing. Your eyes happen to catch on the large photo of the couple on the wall, then travel around, taking note of all the touches that make their house a home, not just a building.

Suddenly, you realise that although it’s been almost three weeks here, you haven’t even had the thought to change anything about your house, and Soonyoung— as everyone knows— is utterly hopeless at interior design, so you think he’s at home wherever he doesn’t have to look over his shoulder for a knife aimed at his back.

It’s still stuck in your head when you and Soonyoung return home and both settle on the sofa with the soothing tea blend he was gifted by the village shopkeeper last week— and immediately fell in love with upon trying it that night, so insists it’s now your shared nightly drink; not that you’ve once complained, it’s genuinely delicious.

“Soonie,” you start, and he hums questioningly in response. “I want to make this our home.”

“Uh…it already is,” he responds, giving you a puzzled look. “You feeling okay, baby? Did you drink too much wine?”

“What? Shut up, I’m not drunk,” you dismiss as you give him a bewildered, and offended, look upon turning your head to face him. “I know it’s technically our home for the rest of our lives, but it doesn’t feel that way. If we’re stuck here, I want it to feel like home, not just a forced situation. Does that make sense?”

“Oh…yeah, yeah, it does.” He nods and pauses to take a sip of his tea before speaking again. “So, what do we do?”

“You don’t need to do anything. I’d like to do it. I’m honestly losing my mind having nothing to do in the mornings, so having this as a project will help.”

“Ah, right.” He hums in understanding. “Okay, whatever you want, baby. Just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”

“I don’t know what things cost here,” you reason timidly.

He’s waving a dismissive hand before you’ve even finished your worry. “Don’t think about that; I’ll handle the cost. You just tell me what you need, and I’ll get it, okay?”

You stare at him for a moment in contemplation before nodding in agreement, a smile lifting you lips. “Okay, thank you, Soonie.”

“You’re welcome.”

Up until the last few weeks, you’ve never known just how much Soonyoung is a man of his word.

Of course, you’ve never doubted him about it before, because he’s never given you a reason to; he’s always stuck to his word or at least had a very good reason and a thorough apology if he couldn’t— always for reasons out of his own control. But in the past weeks, he’s really gone above and beyond to stick to his promise of getting you whatever the hell you want to make a real home out of your house.

Not once has Soonyoung told you that what you ask is out of his reach; even when it should reasonably be. Being on such a small island, there’s a lot that isn’t easily accessible for any of you, and the delivery boats only come over once a week, but somehow, Soonyoung always has whatever you ask for within a handful of days.

Admittedly, you have been a little worried that he’s been using his less than legal skills and knowledge to acquire your requested items, but all it takes is a smile and simple “it’s all legal, don’t worry, baby” from the man, and the possibility leaves your mind.

Thanks to Soonyoung’s endless commitment to making you happy, and all the ways he can get his way— which you don’t want to think about, especially after he went to help the village shopkeeper in a too small pair of shorts—, your home really starts to feel that way.

You’ve repainted the entire house, traded some decorative pieces with other villagers, bought new rugs and blankets, always have fresh flowers— that Soonyoung brings home— around the house, and have even started to think about what to do with the two empty rooms.

You did say to Soonyoung that he should have the spare bedroom, but he refused, saying that if any of the villagers see a new bed being delivered, they’ll know you two are sleeping separately and question your relationship. It makes sense, especially when your shared backstory includes having no friends or family beside Bunny and Jeonghan, meaning no potential visitors in need of a bed for the night; you can’t reasonably argue the logic, so Soonyoung still sleeps on the sofa every night and you both pretend the spare bedroom doesn’t exist.

The empty separate dining room, however, has stumped you. You really can’t figure out what to do with it. You even asked Bunny and Jeonghan, but they use theirs as an at home workshop for Bunny to fix smaller appliances— the bigger ones she fixes either at the client’s home, or at her garage on the village outskirts. They didn’t really have any suggestions either, seeing as neither you nor Soonyoung have any hobbies or interests that needs its own room, but promised to think about it.

Other than the two empty rooms, you feel like you’re doing a really good job with the house, and Soonyoung seems to feel the same way. Every time you change something, he always oohs and ahs about it when he sees the finished product— and often during the process if he manages to sneak a glimpse.

Sometimes, you think he’s just humouring you and doesn’t really care that you’ve found empty picture frames at the market that match the living room decor, which you hang despite having nothing to put in them yet— though you look out for prints to go in them every market. But you don’t really care that he’s faking his enthusiasm. And only a week later, you find a photo of the two of you in the biggest frame; you don’t even have it in you to ask where he got the photo from when you know it was taken over a year ago back in the city, but your chest fills with warmth every time you see it, so you don’t really care about the mystery either.

Before you know it, you’ve been living on the island for four months already, and although you’re not entirely fluent in the language yet, you can hold conversations well enough, and the villagers are all patient and kind with you.

You’re still not ready to forgive Soonyoung yet, but you find yourself waking less and less angry every single day. Some days, you even forget that this isn’t the life you always wanted, but only for a little while. Only until you remember that this isn’t something you chose but were forced into by your ex-assassin ex-boyfriend. And then that warmth growing in your chest gets doused with ice, and you’re left feeling confused and sore until the cycle repeats again.

Earlier this morning, Bunny arrived at your house and announced that the pair of you are going to go get a late breakfast in the only town on the island— though it’s still the tiniest town you’ve ever seen—, located in the very middle of the island less than half an hour drive away. Of course, you didn’t argue the announcement; you’re always happy to spend time with Bunny, and you don’t get much of a chance to do it without the guys due to how busy she usually is fixing everything in the village.

So, the two of you have spent the past hours in Centre Town— as it’s so creatively called—, with Bunny showing you all the best stores and spots to visit, after a homely breakfast at Jeonghan’s favourite café in the town. Bunny says she doesn’t have a personal favourite café in the town, but because it’s Jeonghan’s favourite, it’s also hers by default, and you’re once again reminded of how adorably whipped for the man she is.

In fact, at every chance, Bunny always mentions Jeonghan, reminded of him in the oddest moments; it’s something that used to annoy you with your old friends back in the city, but with Bunny and Jeonghan, it’s just so pure and genuine, that you don’t think you’ll ever get annoyed by it. It does, however, make you more curious than ever about their story. You’ve learned glimpses of it over the months, but you’ve never asked because it’s never really been on your mind before, but now it is, so, you ask.

“Bun?” you call a little after midday on the drive back to the North Village, where you know the two men will soon be finishing work and getting home, and Bunny never misses a chance to tuck Jeonghan in for his post-work nap.

“Yes, Lala?” she replies, using the nickname Jeonghan first came up with for you only two weeks into knowing them, but the pair have since adopted as your new name. In fact, most of the locals have even started to use it, and honestly, you don’t mind. You think you prefer it than everyone calling you Myla, the name that was borne of Soonyoung’s love for you; it doesn’t really feel right for others to use it.

“How did you and Hannie meet?”

“Oh.” She laughs softly, smiling as she recalls the memory and leaning her head on her fist, elbow on the open window frame and cool air gently blowing back the wisps of her hair that have fallen out of her lazy updo.

You have to admit, right now, she looks like the beautiful love interest out of some kind of indie LGBTQ+ movie about finding yourself on a summer road trip with your first gay love that was never meant to truly be. The thought almost makes you giggle to yourself; you know she’d find it funny too, but the two of you would get distracted from the topic by discussing your fake love story, and you’re genuinely interested in her real one, so you keep the thought to yourself.

“Well, you know, typical story. Girl is out on date with some guy, sees pretty boy struggling to get his car started in the restaurant parking lot while his own date watches and whines about it. Girl offers to help, pretty boy is reluctant as she’s on her own date, but girl insists, and sends their dates off together for hers to drive the pretty boy’s whiny date home and far away. Girl finds out what’s wrong with the car and offers to fix it at her garage. So, they exchange numbers, girl fixes pretty boy’s car and falls for his smile the second it lands on her,” Bunny explains, in probably a not very straight forward way, but you understand. Even if you didn’t, looking at the tender smile on her face, you think that you don’t really need to know their origin story to know the important part of their relationship.

“You two were made for each other,” you say.

“Yeah, I think so too,” she agrees, beaming big and dopily proud. “I know you’re not together, but I think you and Soonie are the same, you know?” You sigh and she makes an understanding sound. “He fucked up big time, but honestly, with how he was raised, I’m not at all surprised. He didn’t even have anything close to family until me, you know?”

“You?” you repeat, raising questioning eyebrows. “How did you two meet? I didn’t even know you exist until arriving here.”

“Ah yeah, well, it was drilled into us to not talk about other Company members since we joined. And by drilled, I mean that in the painfully tortured to learn how to not give up the information to enemies searching for it kinda way.”

“Wait, wait, hold on a second,” you rush out as you shuffle a little straighter in your seat. “Just to clarify, you’re telling me that you worked with Soonyoung?”

“Yeah. I thought that was obvious by now?”

“I mean, I suspected, but none of you confirmed it, so I didn’t want to assume.”

“Oh, right, yeah. Since we were kids, when the Company took me in; we were raised and trained together.”

“And to clarify, you were an assassin too?”

“Mm,” she confirms with a nod. “Though I was also one of the main mechanics and worked more as a getaway driver. But I was also sent on those kinds of jobs too if it suited my skillset. But Hosh…he really was the best of us all.”

“Right,” you mumble, gaze sliding aside to stare unseeing out of your window as you think about it all. After a few thoughtful moments, you look at her again; she looks entirely at ease, so you know she doesn’t mind the topic. “What happened to you?” She gives you a bewildered look. “You’re here now, have been for over five years.”

“Oh, right.” She nods understandingly, eyes back on the empty road ahead calmly. “I left.”

“What?” you whisper in shock. “Left? Just–just like that?”

“Mm, basically. A few months into knowing Jeonghan, I knew I could never live a normal, happy life with him, so I quit and asked him to run away with me, to where my past wouldn’t ever catch up with us. And here we are. Well, Soon’s here too now, but he’s like a brother to me, the only family I have beside Jeonghan, so I’m glad he’s here and didn’t stay behind much longer.”

“I didn’t know giving it up was an option,” you admit quietly a few seconds later, after you’ve registered her words and what they truly mean.

“For people like Soon and I, they don’t have an option,” she retorts, sounding oddly cocky even with the little snort she lets out with her amusement.

“What does that mean?”

“Well, I knew, and still know, so much about the Company that they can’t touch me.” She shrugs, as if it’s as simple as that, as if she really has too much knowledge and material on this Company for them to deem it a smart move to send someone after her.

“And Soonie?”

“He’s Hoshi; everyone’s too scared to even try to kill him.”

“Really?”

She nods. “Yep. They know that if they fail to do it in one blow, he’ll make them regret their entire existence.”

By now, the village is coming into view, and you know that you don’t have much longer to talk to Bunny, because she’ll be off to her husband as soon as she’s parked the car. Your mind is reeling with everything she’s said, but you know there’s something you need the answer to; something you didn’t even know was a question in your mind until now.

“Does that mean he could’ve left at any point, and nobody would’ve gone after him?” You have a feeling you already know the answer, and that you don’t truly want to hear the words, but now that it’s on your mind, you have to ask; you have to know.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Bunny confirms, too distracted driving through the village and determinedly towards the hill to be as attuned to you as she usually is; too distracted to realise that you’re already hurting and her words only make it worse. You don’t want her to stop, not at all, but part of you wishes she’d at least soften the blow instead of being so nonchalant about it. “I mean, they would’ve tried to get him to stay, of course; Hoshi really was the best. But at the end of the day, he’s feared for a reason. He could’ve left if he really wanted to.”

It’s what you knew she would say. It’s what you feared she would say. It’s what you wish she wouldn’t say. But you know it’s the truth.

Ever since Bunny spoke those words earlier, it’s all you’ve been able to think about. Although you tried to push it aside, tried to focus on finding homes for the new knickknacks you bought in town, tried to focus on reading your new book by Soonyoung’s side on the sofa, tried to focus on cooking and eating dinner by his side like you do every night, you can’t.

“Everything okay, baby?” Soonyoung asks when you’re both back on the sofa, usual cups of soothing tea in hands for your nightly routine, and your eyes doing nothing but staring off unseeing, mind lost elsewhere.

“Hm?” you reply, forcing your eyes to focus and find him on your left, to find his concerned frown already locked on you. “What did you say?”

“I asked if you’re okay; you’ve been spacey all day.”

“Oh.” You lower your gaze to stare into your mug for a few moments as you contemplate if you really want to confront him about this or just try harder to let it go. It doesn’t take long for you to admit to yourself that you won’t ever be able to let it go, that you care too much to do that. “Did you really mean it when you said you loved me?”

Soonyoung is silent for long enough that you can’t help but lift your head to look at him, only to find him looking at you as if he doesn’t even recognise you. “What did you just ask me?” he whispers incredulously.

“If you really did love me when we were together.”

“What the fuck?!” he sputters and quickly puts his mug on the coffee table, along with your own so that he can take your hands into his and hold them securely. “Of course I meant it! Why are you even asking that, baby? What did I do to make you question my love for you?”

“You chose Hoshi over me.”

“What?” His eyebrows furrow as he frowns. “No, I didn’t. It’s not like that at all.”

“Bunny told me you could’ve left,” you inform. His grip loosens on yours a little. “She left it all behind for Jeonghan; because she loves him and wants a life with him, a future. If you wanted that with me, why didn’t you do the same?”

In all the ways Soonyoung could’ve responded, all you expected him to say and do, you didn’t imagine the lack of response, never thought he would have nothing to say, no argument to explain his past choices. It’s all the answer you need.

“Right,” you mutter and pull your hands away to get up and go to bed without another word. Soonyoung doesn’t try to stop you.

Strangely enough, during the days after the revelation, Soonyoung looks as if he feels guiltier than he did when he was leading you across the globe. And unlike those weeks, he doesn’t try to apologise, doesn’t try to talk to you and earn your forgiveness. He gets up hours before you every morning to go to work like usual, comes home to shower and change like usual, then does his own thing away from you.

It’s weird not having him following you around or using your lap as his favourite headrest on the sofa. He doesn’t even join you in the lounge like normal, and you don’t try to get him to. You’re too hurt by what you’ve learned; that Soonyoung never deemed his love for you enough to leave the assassin life behind. That he couldn’t pick a future with you over killing.

Okay, you’re aware that you’ve very likely grossly oversimplifying it, but that’s truly what it feels like. Without him saying a word about it, what else are you supposed to assume? You’ve barely exchanged a handful of sentences since that night, and none of them have been related in any way, so as far as you’re concerned, there’s nothing more to be said about it.

It hurts, but you think that this might actually be the reason you walk away from the man. You don’t know if it’s possible, if there’s even somewhere else for you to go, because you know you can’t live anywhere else unless you want to be held accountable for the corpses Soonyoung created in the city in his fucked-up method of protecting you. And even if you could find another place, you’ve put too much work into making this house your home that it’d be painful to leave it. But you suppose, not as painful as living in the home you made with the man who never loved you enough to walk away from his dark past.

You feel kind of stuck, not sure what to do, how to move forward now. You know you’re unable to forget about it, to look at Soonyoung and not think about it, so you know you have to do something. Yet, you know that the only something you can really do is turn your back on him, but at this point, he’s such a huge part of your life, that you think that a part of you would be left behind with him, and you’re not sure you could ever fill that gap again. Not now.

It’s really not intentional, but you retreat into yourself in the following days, too caught in your own mind to be your normal self. You’re really not up for even leaving the house, so when Soonyoung knocks on your bedroom door to ask if you’re ready to go to Bunny and Jeonghan’s house for the weekly dinner and games night, you say you’re not going. You’re not sure if it makes your heart hurt more that he doesn’t even try to convince you, just reminds you to get dinner, then heads off, leaving you feeling more alone than you’ve felt in a long time.

Though, not even half an hour later, you hear the front door open, and movement downstairs. You really can’t imagine it’s Soonyoung back already, you’re pretty sure he would’ve called up the stairs to let you know he’s back, but you also can’t imagine any of the locals entering your home without permission, even if the door is always locked. It’s safe here, everyone knows each other and looks out for one another.

Yet now, someone is in your house, and you find yourself wishing you accepted Soonyoung’s offer months ago to teach you how to fight past basic self-defence. 

Just when you gather the courage to get out of bed with the intention of going downstairs to confront whoever broke into your home, you hear footsteps ascending the stairs, and you freeze with one foot on the carpet, the other still on the mattress.

It’s only seconds, but you feel like it drags on for hours until the steps stop outside of your bedroom door, and your heart jumps into your throat.

There’s a knock, and to your immense relief, a familiar voice calls through the wood, “Lala, are you awake?”

“Hannie?” you choke out, chest heaving as your lungs rush to fill, and you drop heavily onto your bed to try and tame the shaking of your body as the fear and adrenaline leaves.

“Mm, can I come in?” Shakily, you respond in consent, and then the door opens and Jeonghan appears with his usual gentle smile. Though upon spotting the way you’re trembling, his smile vanishes for concern to take its place, and he rushes over. “Oh, Lala, what’s wrong? Are you ill?”

“No,” you answer, shaking your head and letting him clutch your hands in his as he sits close to your side, thumbs stroking comfortingly over your knuckles. “I–I didn’t know it was you,” you admit.

“Who did you think it was?” His voice is a low murmur, something like fear creeping in. “Has… has someone said something to you? Threatened you? Made you think they’d hurt you?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” you assure, squeezing his hands. “Just general fear of a person raised somewhere you could never dream of leaving your front door unlocked, or walk the streets alone at night, even the day sometimes.”

“Ah, right, I see. I’m sorry for scaring you; I didn’t even consider you would be scared. I guess I’ve kind of forgotten that fear now.”

“That’s good, I’m glad you have. I hope I do too one day.”

“Me too, nobody should have to feel like this, especially in their own home.” You just hum and nod in agreement. “I brought dinner over, I had a feeling you won’t feel up to making anything, and I think, if anyone understands how you feel right now, it’s me.” You give him a questioning look that he smiles softly at. “Let’s go downstairs, and we can talk about it all over dinner, okay, sweetheart?”

“Okay,” you agree quietly, and let him help you up. He keeps one of your still slightly shaking hands in his all the way downstairs into the kitchen, until you’re sitting down in one of the already set places. He sits opposite you and waits for you to have a drink and start to eat before he lifts his own fork.

For a little while, neither of you say a word, though it’s not awkward or tense, it’s still as calm and comfortable as it always is around Jeonghan. You used to be worried that maybe you wouldn’t get particularly close to Jeonghan due to only really seeing him when Bunny or Soonyoung are around, but he quickly proved you wrong, and makes sure the two of you spend time together alone too. Although he’s obviously closer to Soonyoung due to working with him every morning, you think there’s a special kind of bond with Jeonghan that neither Soonyoung nor Bunny can ever understand. A bond only those with an ex-assassin partner can understand. Or ex-partner, in your case.

“Soonie told us everything,” Jeonghan says when over half of your meals are gone. You lift your gaze to look at him but don’t say a word, waiting for him to continue. “Actually, he told me the next morning. He wasn’t acting like himself, so I asked what was wrong, and he told me the general gist of it yet asked me to not say anything to Bunny, because he knew she’d feel guilty about getting the thought in your head.”

You hum to show that you’re listening and understanding everything; that you agree that Bunny would feel bad about it, knowing that her offhanded words have caused an issue between you and Soonyoung. But you don’t blame her, and you know Soonyoung doesn’t either, though convincing Bunny of that is another matter entirely.

“But when Soonyoung turned up without you tonight, my Bunny couldn’t ignore it, or that there’s obviously something going on with you two, so she made Soonie tell her. Last I saw, she was yelling at him for being an idiot,” he muses.

“Last you saw?”

“Mm, yeah, I was already packing up dinner to come here when Soonie started to explain and left just in time for the yelling to start.”

“Ah, right.” You nod and turn your gaze back onto your plate as you push your food around with your fork.

“Did you know that Bunny wasn’t born into the life they lived?” he questions, making you look at him again, confused about the sudden topic change, but willing to go along with it.

“She said they met as kids, but I didn’t know what that really meant; if she was just with another company before there or something.”

“No. She had a family.” Your eyes widen a little and you straighten up, shocked by the information and wanting to learn more. “She was a normal enough kid, though extremely gifted with mechanics and engineering. All that just kind of makes sense to her in a way I, and most people, can’t wrap our heads around.”

“Yeah, she’s really smart.”

“She is,” he agrees, smiling all softly smitten and proud of his wife. It makes your lips turn up into the first hint of a smile that has graced your features in days now.

“What happened to her family?” you wonder, knowing that something had to have gone tragically wrong for Bunny to end up being trained to be as an assassin as a child.

“They were killed. Turns out, her dad was the son of some big scary gang leader and ran away from it all; and was finally found. His wife was killed first, a few days before Bunny was left with her dad’s friend after making him promise to look after her, and then her dad was found dead that same evening.”

“She remembers all this?”

“Sort of,” he confirms with a little nod. “She has glimpses of it, but she was only nine and it was a traumatic time, so she blocked most of it out and never wanted to try to remember that time. I don’t blame her at all; I wouldn’t want to remember if I were her either.” You hum in agreement. “Anyway, it turns out that the man she was left with works for the Company to train new recruits. He usually worked with adults, but he figured he might as well put Bunny to the test. Of course, she didn’t know the first thing about fighting, but she was stronger than the average nine-year-old due to moving around heavy parts and tools so much, so he saw the potential. He only had her for a few months to get her good enough to be accepted, then sent her to the Company, and Bunny’s records were adjusted to say she died with her dad that day; some kind of murder suicide when he couldn’t face living without his wife anymore.”

“That’s…severely fucked up.”

Jeonghan lets out a laugh. “It is,” he agrees. “But there’s a point to telling you her backstory.”

“There is?”

“Mm.” He nods and has a quick drink before responding. “Bunny knows what it’s like to be loved; to have a family. Soonyoung doesn’t. He was taken in from an orphanage before he could even hold his head up. He was raised by people only interested in creating a weapon, not loving a little boy.” Jeonghan takes a moment to frown off to the side before looking back at you, lifting his lips a little again upon spotting your own frown. “He didn’t know what it means to care and be cared for until Bunny arrived when he was seven, and he finally had a friend. She stood up for him when he was pushed too hard or punished for things out of his control; he was their golden child even then, so he was always held to a standard his little body and mind couldn’t live up to at that point. And the worst part is that he thought it was normal, never fought back because he didn’t know any better. Bunny had to teach him how to just… be a human.”

“I think part of me knew that,” you confess quietly. “He’s…not actually the most adept in ways a kid raised with love and morals should be.”

“He tries.”

“He does,” you confirm without hesitation; you’ve never doubted that about Soonyoung at all. Even when he does the most fucked up stuff, you know he tries to be better; he just needs more time to learn how.

“Which leads us to the issue at hand.” You give him a questioning look. “Bunny did once know a family, a life outside of all of that; she knew better; she knew what love was and that what they did was morally fucked up. She spent nine years in the real world, so she knew what it was like, and due to being a mechanic she’s always had the skills to build a civilian life if she wanted to.”

“And she did, because of you.”

“Yes, exactly.” He nods. “But Soonyoung has only ever known that life. He’s had glimpses of the real world on jobs or when with you, but he…he’s never lived it, not really. He’s killed so many people, has so much blood on his hands and conscience, that he probably never imagined anything else for himself. He probably never thought he deserved anything more, not with the unforgivable acts he’s committed on another’s order.” Jeonghan reaches over the table to hold your hand where it lays limp on the tabletop. “I think that the only way he was ever going to get out of it was this way; to protect the only person he’s ever loved.”

“But…Bunny is his family,” you try to reason quietly. There’s no strength to your voice, it’s all being used up on processing Jeonghan’s words, his explanation to why Soonyoung didn’t put his love for you over his life as Hoshi.

“She is, and he loves her like a sister, but she’s not the woman he wants a life with. Bunny asked him to leave with us five years ago, but he refused, even knowing they may never see each other again. It hurt him to do it, but he didn’t know anything else; had nothing to offer the world in return for letting him live a life away from it all. But to protect you, Lala, he’d do anything, no matter what the world has to say about it.”

Jeonghan leaves not long after cleaning up from dinner; he can tell you have a lot on your mind and need time to process, and you’re grateful for that. Though it doesn’t mean you manage to straighten your thoughts at all.

When Soonyoung gets home a little before 9pm, you’re still laid on your bed wide awake and staring up at the ceiling. Though when he comes up to check on you after you don’t answer when he calls up the stairs to say he’s home, you quickly roll over and pretend to be asleep.

Your heart aches at the gentle way he adjusts the duvet around you and presses a kiss to your hairline. The “I love you” he whispers against your skin almost makes you break, but he doesn’t linger, and soon, you’re left alone with nothing but your thoughts whirling in your mind and tears threatening to spill onto your cheeks.

For the first time in all the months you’ve lived on the island, you’re awake before Soonyoung. Though, that’s not surprising when you failed to get to sleep last night, mind too busy going over everything Jeonghan said to you; everything you know about Soonyoung and his actions and words towards you.

You know he loves you, you don’t think you’ve ever truly doubted that, despite what the past week suggests. But for a moment, you let a little doubt of his devotion to you in, and it festered into something so painful that you felt you might break in two. You have never doubted Soonyoung’s intentions towards you before this past week, and you never want to again; it really felt like everything you knew about the world was utterly wrong.

It’s taken until now for you to realise just how much you believe in Soonyoung’s love for you, how much you trust him, even knowing all you do about him. You know he’d never intentionally do a thing to hurt you, so he must have a genuine reason for remaining as Hoshi and not asking you to run away with him until the day came he had no choice but to make that move.

When that thought finally settles, finally makes a home in your mind, and refuses to budge, you know that you can’t avoid Soonyoung, or the subject, anymore.

You know it’s too early to have any type of meaningful conversation, Soonyoung won’t be alert enough yet— not when there’s no danger—, and you have been awake for too long to trust that you’ll make sense, so you’ll have the conversation later. But, for now, you can still make the first step.

When Soonyoung stumbles into the kitchen wearing only his boxers, eyes barely open, and hair a mess on his head, you’re momentarily stunned. You had genuinely forgotten that he sleeps in his boxers, and also how good he looks in so little clothing.

Even now, months out of his past life, Soonyoung keeps himself in great physical condition, partly out of habit, and partly because he likes feeling and looking so good. His muscles have always been practical, have never just been for show, but they’ve changed slightly in the time since you last saw so much of him. Before, he was more compact, strong, yet still lithe, and focused on speed and flexibility for the sake of his work. Yet now, Soonyoung doesn’t need to be fast or flexible for his job, just strong enough to lug around equipment and reel in thrashing fish; and the change in job has really shown in the ways his biceps and shoulders have grown bigger, stronger. Even his thighs are bigger— and they’ve always been strong enough to make you feel weak kneed— to support the strength and stamina he now needs.

For a few long moments, you just gawk at Soonyoung, unable to stop yourself checking him out in the utmost appreciation. But the moment he freezes upon realising that he’s not alone for the first time in the morning, your focus returns and you wave a little in greeting before getting back to making breakfast.

“Uhm…you’re up early,” he comments, moving closer to stand around the other side of the counter to you, hands holding onto the edge and blinking rapidly at you as he tries to force himself to wake quicker, become more alert.

“Mm, do you want to go get dressed while I finish getting breakfast ready? It won’t be long.”

“Oh, right, I’m naked,” he comments a little dumbly as he looks down at himself. You also take the opportunity for one final look. “Sorry, didn’t expect you to be here.”

“It’s okay,” you assure, trying to be as casual as you can when you want to insist that he can wear even less more often if he really wants to. But that really isn’t wise to say, or act on, so you keep your libido under check to not risk ruining things.

“Uhm…okay…be right back,” he decides, and though you’re not looking at him anymore, you can feel his stumped expression aimed at you, before he turns and rushes back to the living room to get dressed into the clothes he picks out of the basket of clean laundry he’s kept in there this past week. Usually, all of his clothes are put away neatly in the bedroom along with your own— mostly in case any locals visit, notice them elsewhere, and question why they’re not in your shared bedroom— but the past week, you’ve barely left the bedroom, and he hasn’t wanted to disturb you, so he’s kept his freshly washed clothes downstairs with him for ease of access.

While Soonyoung is gone, you take a quick break from cooking to splash your face with cold water at the kitchen sink and then get back to it before he can return and question what the hell you’re doing. He doesn’t notice anything amiss when he steps back into the kitchen, and you’re very glad about that.

It’s the first meal you’ve shared in a week, and it’s the tensest the two of you have ever been. Soonyoung, although he usually devours anything you cook for him, chews slowly, and mostly just picks and pokes at his food. You’re not doing any better.

With a sigh, you put down your fork and look at him, making him look at you with slightly widened eyes, stopping mid chew, and almost freezing. “We… Did Jeonghan tell you what he and I talked about last night?”

“No,” he replies after forcing himself to swallow, probably too soon based on the way he winces then immediately grabs his glass to soothe his throat with his morning glass of cool milk once he’s done talking. “But I’m guessing it was about us.”

“It was,” you confirm with a few light nods. “He said some things that made me think about it from your perspective, and I think I might understand you better now, but I’d like to hear it from you, if you’re willing.”

Immediately, Soonyoung straightens up from his position hunched over his plate, nodding madly and eyes growing eager. “Yes, yes, of course. I hate that we’re like this, so I want to fix it.”

“Yeah, me too,” you admit quietly, picking your fork back up. “We’ll talk about it tonight, yeah?”

“Hannie won’t mind if I don’t go in today, not if it’s for our sake.”

“I know, but I haven’t slept, so I need to do that so that my mind is less all over the place for this conversation.”

“Oh, oh, right, yeah, I get it.” He nods. “Please go right back to bed after breakfast.”

“I will, it’s hitting me now that I know you’re willing to talk about it.”

“I’m always willing, I just… didn’t know how to say any of it the other day. Bunny helped me straighten it all out in my head last night.”

“Heard she yelled at you.”

“She did,” he confirms with a pout, whining a little. “I deserved it, but I still don’t like it when she does that.”

“She’s your sister, she just cares and wants the best for you.”

It takes Soonyoung a few seconds of just staring at you and blinking a little too much to be normal before his lips curl up into a little smile that looks so innocently happy that you can’t help but smile to yourself as he looks down at his plate. “Yeah, she is. She’s my sister.” He fills his fork and shoves it into his mouth to eat as enthusiastically as normal, with a smile turning his lips up the whole time.

Although you’re awake and fully mentally present when Soonyoung returns from work a little after midday, you don’t start the conversation yet, and neither does he; he goes right up to shower and gets into fresh clothes like normal, and you continue scrubbing the kitchen floor.

Even when Soonyoung is back downstairs, neither of you bring it up. He just refills your empty glass, gets himself a drink, and then kneels on the floor a little away from you to get started scrubbing that patch of tiles.

It’s the first time in a week that you’ve been around each other without any kind of tension between you; you had really missed it. Existing at Soonyoung’s side has always felt so normal and natural, especially the past months, that you really felt lost without him there. Though you know it was your own choice to take the time apart, you still didn’t like it and are beyond glad to have him back.

All the way until dinner, the pair of you just exist like normal; working side by side to tackle chores he hasn’t been able to handle alone, making plans to change the details of your home that aren’t quite homely enough yet, and cooking dinner.

It’s only when you’re both most of the way through eating and Soonyoung is done retelling his work week in depth— something he usually tells you about every day, but of course, hasn’t had the chance so he’s making up for the missed days, and you really don’t mind at all— that, finally, the moment comes.

“So…” he starts, turning his fork in his fingers a little awkwardly. “What–what did Hannie say, exactly?”

You take a moment to make sure the words are right in your head before you put down your cutlery to give him your full focus. Soonyoung immediately copies, wanting to show you that he’s listening and taking this seriously; he doesn’t need to say the words for you to know as much, it’s clear in the earnest gaze locked on you.

“That you never knew anything but that life. Even when you were with me, or out in the world, you were never fully there. You didn’t know anything more, and…didn’t think you deserved more than you had.” Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, but he does nod a little, silently confirming the words, and making your heart ache something awful. It takes you a few seconds to fight past the sudden lump trying to rise in your throat. “That you couldn’t imagine being able to live a normal life, because your skills were related to killing; nothing you can make a living with.”

“He’s right,” he confirms, tone a little bruised around the edges. “I’ve done so much bad shit, like fucking unforgiveable stuff, things I never want to tell you because I never want you to have that image of me in your head. I won’t deny it at all; it’s a source of fucked up pride for me that I was the best; that nobody would take up a hit on me because they were too scared they would fail and they’d then have to face being on my list. Hoshi…he doesn’t deserve happiness; he should have to pay for all he’s done.”

“Soon…” You reach out to him, but he doesn’t let you take his hands even if he clearly wants to.

“I know, I know you don’t see me as him, but I am,” he reminds. “And Hoshi doesn’t deserve this life, can’t function in this world. He doesn’t deserve you, my love, but because of you, I want to try to live in this world. I just couldn’t see a way out of it, not without putting you at risk.”

“Me?”

“Yeah.” Finally, he leans forward across the table just enough that he can curl his fingers around yours and hold on as if your touch is the only thing that can tether him right now. There’s a pain in his eyes that makes you hold tighter, lean closer; keep him as close to solid ground as you can with a table between you. “They can’t touch me, I know that. But you…I knew if I left, they wouldn’t be happy and they’d get back at me by going after you.”

“Oh…”

“I never want to be the reason you’re in danger, and I hate myself that I couldn’t keep you safe.”

“What?” you frown, tugging his hands sternly so that he’ll pay attention to you and the words you’re about to say. “Are you a fucking idiot, Kwon Soonyoung?”

“I mean…sometimes, yeah,” he replies so innocently honest that you can’t help but laugh. The confused furrow of his brow and the sad drag of his features simply melts away at your laughter. His posture straightens and his eyes light up, lips curling without thought as he admires the smile on your face. “God, you’re beautiful,” he exhales heavily, so full of his affection and awe of you that he is unable to stop it filling his chest and spilling from his mouth.

“Ah, shut up,” you argue, cheeks flushing with the sudden compliment, and one hand lifting to cover your face. “Don’t change the subject.”

“I didn’t!” he insists, and when you peer over your fingers at him, you find him leaning closer with that stupid, endearingly cheeky smile of his on his face. “Your beauty is always on my mind somewhere.”

“Shut up!” you hiss and reach out to put your hand over his face this time so that you don’t have to see the love in his eyes as they remain happily locked on you. “I’ve forgotten what I was saying now,” you complain, dropping your hand down to the tabletop; Soonyoung immediately picks it up to place back on his face— though now cupping his cheek— and he contently leans into your palm. You can’t help but stroke your thumb over his skin, earning a pleased little sigh to spill from his parted lips. After a few seconds, you remember what you were talking about and lift your eyes from watching your thumb move against his sun-kissed cheek, to his sparkling gaze. “I have never felt safer than when I’m by your side, Soonyoung,” you inform, honest and tender. Soonyoung’s fingers hold onto you a little tighter at the words.

“Really?” he whispers in disbelief. You nod. “But you were almost kidnapped a week before getting here.”

“You weren’t by my side then,” you remind. “But I knew you would be, I knew you’d be back any second and protect me.”

“What if I wasn’t though?”

“The thought never crossed my mind. I have always believed in you, Soonyoung. I’ve always known you’d never intentionally hurt me.”

“Then why did you leave me because of Hoshi?” He frowns; looking as if the pain in his eyes has weighed him down since the day you broke up with him over a year ago. “If you knew I’d never hurt you, why did you break my heart?”

“Because I was scared you wouldn’t come home to me one day.”

“Baby, I’ll always come back to you,” he promises firmly.

“I know you’d try, but every time you came back injured, even slightly, I was reminded what you did, who Hoshi was, and that you won’t always be the best. I couldn’t handle that; the thought that one day, the tables could turn and you wouldn’t be able to save yourself, to come back to me.”

“Baby…”

“I figured that it was better I ended things and put distance between us, so that by the time that day arrived, I wouldn’t ever know. I could just go about my life blissfully ignorant and never know the day yours ended too soon.”

Soonyoung’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens, yet nothing comes out for a few long seconds. And when it does, it’s a pained type of exhale before he’s up on his feet and moving around the table to kneel on the kitchen tiles beside your chair. When he gently tugs, you scoot your chair back and let him turn your seated form to face him, allow him to securely hold your hands in his and press them to his mouth briefly. “I am so sorry,” he whispers, sounding more broken than you’ve ever heard him, even the day you broke his heart and he cried and begged you to take the words back, he didn’t sound this torn up. “I never– I never realised, never considered it from your point of view. If I had…”

“You wouldn’t have been able to quit,” you remind gently, freeing one hand from his hold to gently brush his hair back. “It doesn’t matter if you knew or not, Soonyoung.”

“No, but I would’ve listened to you,” he says, voice catching a little. “If–if I knew the real reason you broke up with me, I would’ve stayed away. I never would’ve tried to win you back. I never would’ve fucked up like this, and you could be…happy.”

“Soonie,” you exhale and pull him into the space between your knees to curl over him and hold him close. His arms wrap around your waist, fingers gripping onto your shirt for dear life as he buries his face in your stomach. “This is never what I expected my life to look like; I never could’ve imagined running away and having to learn an entirely new language and culture, but I…I’m not unhappy here. This past week has been hard, and it was at first too, but it’s not all been bad. We’re building a life here and…I’m glad you’re here with me. I can’t imagine you not being around, so please don’t do something stupid on the boat and fall overboard into the propeller.”

Soonyoung snorts a laugh and essentially nuzzles into your waist, making you yelp at the ticklish sensation and pull him back by a fistful of hair. He grins at you, cheeky, and a little sleazy, making you let him go to nudge him back. “Hey, I thought we were making progress there,” he declares, pouting as he obligingly crawls backwards as you give him a stern look.

“We were having a nice moment until you looked at me like that!” you respond, pushing him back with your foot against his chest when he leans forward again. He groans dramatically and lets your nudge topple him onto his back, where he lays feeling sorry for himself, staring up at the lazily swirling ceiling fan as you return to your dinner.

In fact, he’s still laid there when you’re done eating, and he makes no effort to move when you get up with your dirty dishes in hand. “Just step over me,” he offers, motioning vaguely with a put-on sigh. You give him an unimpressed look. “What? You step over me all the time!”

“I’m wearing a skirt, pervert.”

Immediately, he smirks at you, and you know he hadn’t forgotten that fact. “And? You saw this morning when I was in my boxers, it’s fair I see your panties in return!”

“That was your choice to walk around in your underwear,” you deadpan.

“I didn’t expect you to be up!” he defends, whining. While he’s pouting, you step over him, and he cheers back up at the view he gets under your skirt when you step over his head. Admittedly, you could’ve stepped over his waist, or chest, or just walked the long way around to get past him, but you’re feeling kind…okay, you just want to tease him with what he can’t have as payback for this morning. “Yes!” he exclaims excitedly, pumping his fists a little, then starts to wax poetic about how pretty your underwear are and how he’s missed seeing them on you, all while you make sure to keep your back to him as you wash your dishes, just so he doesn’t see the smile on your face.

Over the following days, things with Soonyoung are better than ever. That talk you had seems to have fixed issues you didn’t even know existed. Maybe there was a part of you both that needed those things said aloud, you just didn’t realise it on a conscious level. Or maybe the planets have just aligned to put you in each other’s immediate orbit. You don’t know what the exact reason is, but you’re glad of it and don’t have any intention of questioning the new kind of ease between you.

Honestly, you keep expecting him to try and win you back now that things are so good, but he doesn’t. He doesn’t push any boundaries, doesn’t make any remarks, and keeps sleeping on the sofa without question or complaint.

A few times, it’s you who almost changes things, not with your relationship exactly, but because of the sleeping situation, yet always bite the offer back at the last second.

Due to Soonyoung usually being gone for work hours before you’re even awake, you’ve never before seen the way he rubs his aching neck every morning. But the past few days, storms have hit, rendering the sea far too deadly to traverse, so he’s been getting up a little later and you earlier, unable to sleep through the relentless rain and thunder, giving you the chance to see the ache on his features.

Still, he doesn’t say a word and always does his best to hide his discomfort when he realises that you’re already awake and witnessing it. You know he’d love to climb into bed with you every night, and that he’d likely jump on the offer should you give it, but there’s something stopping you. You just have no idea what that something is.

Despite there having not been a storm for a few days now, Soonyoung and Jeonghan are off work. Well, Jeonghan is, Bunny claimed Soonyoung’s muscles to help her fix up things around the village that got damaged during the storm.

Though, that doesn’t mean you’re home alone, not at all. Jeonghan has decided to spend the morning with you at your house, helping you rearrange the living room because you don’t like that Soonyoung sleeps directly under the window with a broken latch. Admittedly, you could just replace the latch— and you plan to once you can get to the hardware store in Centre Town— instead of moving the heavy furniture around, but this is what you’ve decided to spend your day doing, and Jeonghan doesn’t even question it.

At least, he doesn’t at first, but Jeonghan— although an angel and the nicest person you’ve ever met— has this innate ability to just know when there’s something unsaid, and he’s not in the habit of ignoring it. “So,” he says when you join him with fresh, cold drinks where he’s now lounging on the couch to get his breath back from helping you heave the furniture around the living room to its new home. “What’s going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you suddenly moving the sofa?”

“Oh, the latch is broken,” you inform, pointing to the window opposite you both. “It makes it draughty underneath, and I don’t want Soonyoung sleeping in a draught and getting ill.”

“That makes sense,” he hums, and you nod in agreement before sipping at your drink. “What doesn’t is the fact he’s still sleeping on the couch, Lala.”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Because you’re not mad at him anymore.” That makes you look at him questioningly. “Sweetheart, you let him sleep down here initially because you were mad at him for uprooting your life and being the reason you’re a wanted woman.” You nod slowly, agreeing, but not sure where exactly he’s going with this and feeling a little off kilter suddenly. “But you’re not mad at him anymore, about anything.”

For a second or two, you just stare at Jeonghan, processing what he’s said. You can see his lips turn up into a little amused smile as his words settle in your mind, and you know that he can see the revelation happening on your features.

“Oh,” you mumble, and he giggles. “I’m not mad at him anymore…at all.”

“You’re not.”

“Oh.”

“Mm, so, going to let him know?”

“I…will think about it,” you decide, still not sure why you’re keeping up that final wall, but you’re not quite ready to knock it down yet.

“Okay, sweetheart,” Jeonghan agrees easily, and pats your knee. “You take all the time you need, Soonie isn’t going anywhere.”

“I know.”

“Good.” He pats your knee once more, then leans aside to put now empty glass on the side table, before getting up. “Come on, let’s finish this and then go out for lunch; I want to show you a café in the West Village I think you’ll really like!”

Usually, you’re at home when Soonyoung gets back from work; you’ve never actually seen him on the boat before, and you especially haven’t been on the docks with Bunny waiting when the boat pulls in. Though seeing the way Soonyoung lights up bright enough to rival the midday sun upon spotting you there waiting, you think you might have to start making a habit of it.

“Baby!” he screeches, letting go of the wheel with both hands to wave at you brightly.

“Don’t let go of the wheel!” you yell back, noticing the boat veering. Soonyoung’s hands immediately return to the wheel with a sheepish grin, and an apology tossed over his shoulder to Jeonghan, wherever the older man is.

Not even ten minutes later, the boat is safely docked and tied up, and Soonyoung is bouncing along to you excitedly. “What’re you doing here?!” he exclaims, and almost reaches out to hug you, but then he remembers that he’s very sweaty, and pulls his arms back to himself with a little pout.

“We were just leaving the store when we saw the boat, so we thought we’d meet you two,” you answer, motioning vaguely to Bunny, where she’s closer to where the boat’s docked and cooing over her motion sick husband as he lays sprawled on dock with his eyes closed and a pout on his lips, soaking up the doting.

“Ooh, makes sense,” Soonyoung replies, nodding in understanding. “Wanna see the fish I caught?!” he asks suddenly and grabs your hand to lead you to the boat, help you aboard, and over to the icebox hidden out of the sun’s bright rays. “Look!” he enthuses, opening the tightly shut lid to proudly lift the biggest fish he’s caught so far.

“Wow!” you respond, impressed, but mostly playing it up just to watch Soonyoung beam and wiggle a little in his place. Even when he starts to prattle on about how he caught it and how he almost thought he lost it, you just continue to stare up at him with a smile, more than happy to listen to him talk about whatever he wants when he looks so thrilled about it. “Hannie says I’ll be promoted if I keep this up!” he informs as he leads you back off the boat with the icebox in his arms— you’re glad he’s slightly behind you so that you can’t get distracted by his bulging biceps and fall overboard.

“Promoted to what?” you hear Bunny question in a confused mumble, but Jeonghan just giggles tiredly, Soonyoung doesn’t seem to even notice, and you’re just content to bask in Soonyoung’s glowing pride, so you don’t let her bewilderment linger in your mind. She doesn’t press it either and instead gets to work helping Soonyoung lug everything off the boat to allow her husband to rest longer.

Of course, you wait with Jeonghan on the dock, sitting at his side and ignoring his teasing grin to instead admire Soonyoung’s strong physique now that you’re sitting safely and can’t swoon over into the sea. Though, you do let that thought run a little wild, just to imagine Soonyoung diving in after you to wrap his strong arms around your waist and heave you out of the water; the way his clothes will stick to his muscled body and water will drip off.

At least, you think about it until Jeonghan nudges you and you realise you’re literally gawping at Soonyoung; mouth dropped open and eyes big and dumb as they remain locked on him. Thankfully, Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, just grins at you teasingly, before he gets up and wanders off to help now that he’s no longer nauseous.

As soon as Soonyoung is finished doing everything he needs to for work, he’s right by your side, still grinning brightly, and all but bounces at your side the entire walk home— even with a heavy icebox in his arms.

“I was thinking, we can try that recipe you liked the look of; the one from the new book I bought in the West Village the other day,” you suggest as the two of you go into the kitchen, where Soonyoung puts the icebox on the counter.

“Really?” he asks, somehow looking even more excited than before; invisible puppy-dog tail wagging a mile a minute behind him. “Oh.” His mood suddenly dampens and he looks a little disappointed all of a sudden, bewildering you. “We can’t. That’s a low and slow recipe, we need to be here to watch over it, but we said we’d go to the hardware store today to get a replacement latch for the window.”

“I’d rather stay home with you,” you admit.

“With me?” he whispers, sounding surprised and awed all at once.

“Mm, no-one I’d rather spend the afternoon with,” you confirm, and just like that, puppy-Soonyoung returns, all but vibrating with his joy and smile so big you think it must hurt. But he doesn’t complain, just silently turns and skips off upstairs with a cheesy love song spilling from his lips as he goes.

When Soonyoung returns from his shower, he’s still floating on his joy, and can’t seem to stop himself from wrapping you in a hug once he’s in the kitchen where you’re preparing everything but the fish according to the recipe. His arms go around your shoulders from behind, head tilted against yours, and his chest rumbles at your back as he contently hums lowly, swaying the two of you in time to his wordless song; and you don’t even consider pushing him off. If your hands weren’t dirtied from the ingredients on the board before you, you’d have likely even put your hands over his arms encouragingly and leaned back against him, but they are, so you just let him sway you both for a handful of seconds.

Without a word— though still happily humming away—, Soonyoung lets you go and moves over to get started on preparing the fish. You only have a few more things to do, and then you wash your hands and just lean against the counter to admire how great he looks wielding that knife, confident. It’s very attractive.

“What?” he asks, voice a little low and one side of his mouth curved up slightly after a few minutes of your silent watching.

“Just admiring your skill, problem?” you retort.

“Never got a problem with your eyes on me, baby,” he flirts, winking at you before focusing back on his work.

“Good to know,” you reply lowly, deciding to flirt back. Soonyoung freezes in shock, then lifts his head to look at you with eyes wide and mouth parted, though you’re already turning away to get the pan ready for the fish with a sly little grin on your lips.

It’s when you’re about to step foot onto the bottom stair ready to go up to bed, Soonyoung already making up the sofa in the lounge, that you really think about it, and realise that you have literally zero reasons for making him sleep on the sofa. Especially when you’re adult enough to admit to yourself that you don’t want him to sleep on the sofa anymore.

Determinedly, you return to the living room, just in time to see Soonyoung peel his t-shirt off. You short-circuit for a moment, though manage to get yourself back on track just as his hands reach for the tie of his shorts. “Soonie.”

Immediately, his head jerks up to look at you in surprise. “You okay?” he checks, hands dropping to his side and eyebrows furrowing with the start of worry. “Is there a bug? If it’s wider than my pinkie and has wings, I’m sorry but your room belongs to it now.”

“No, no bug,” you assure with a soft laugh. “Come to bed.” Instantly, his eyes bulge and his mouth audibly pops open. “Hm?” You don’t wait for him to respond, and instead turn and head upstairs, though you’re barely off the top one before you hear him let out a victorious noise before rushing around— likely to tidy everything up.

By the time you’re done in the bathroom and have returned to the bedroom wearing one of his t-shirts like normal, Soonyoung’s perched on the edge of the bed, still wearing his shorts, and looking like he’s never seen the room before.

“Aren’t you going to lay down?” you muse as you cross the room to climb up onto the bed and get comfortable in your usual place.

“Is that my shirt?” he whispers dumbly. You just nod. “You’re actually going to kill me,” he declares before getting up. “Gotta brush my teeth.” You only hum, and then he rushes off to the bathroom.

When Soonyoung returns a few minutes later, he shuts the door quietly behind him and kicks off his shorts, before padding over and climbing into the empty gap beside you a little tentatively. Though when you only watch him quietly and don’t show any sign of discomfort, he relaxes and turns the lamp off before settling down.

There’s probably a lot that could be said right now, a lot that should be said, but you don’t say a word, neither does Soonyoung. You both slowly fall asleep more content than you have been for a long time.

It really shouldn’t surprise you at all, you know how affectionate Soonyoung is, but for a split second upon waking up to the sound of an alarm ringing, the body pressed against your back and secure arm around your waist almost makes you panic.

“Fuck,” Soonyoung’s low, rough morning voice murmurs directly behind you before he lets you go to roll away and turn off his alarm clock— you hadn’t even noticed last night that he brought it upstairs. Without thought, you whine and blindly reach behind you to grab his arm and pull him back to you. Soonyoung chuckles, burying his face in your hair, and holds you tighter, not at all complaining about the silent demand for affection.

You’re not sure how long you lay there, comfy and content in Soonyoung’s embrace, almost dozing back off, but you know it can’t be that long really; he’s always been good at tracking time, even with his back turned to the clock.

“I gotta go to work, baby,” he announces softly, trying to untangle himself from you, but you lace your fingers with his and shuffle backwards until you’re as close to him as possible. “Baby,” he chuckles, sounding far too happy about this to even pretend to argue.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.” You curl your left arm over his, bending his with your own so that you can tuck your connected hands up under your chin.

“Want me to stay?” You nod and he lets out a deliriously happy little giggle that makes you almost giggle too, he sounds so cute. “Okay, I’ll call out from work today,” he decides, making absolutely zero attempt to even pretend to be against the idea, not when you’ve said you want him to stay. He’d do pretty much anything you say, honestly, especially if it involves getting to hold you for longer.

Pleased, you hum in approval, letting your eyes close with every intention of going back to sleep. Unfortunately, your conscience kicks in and makes you unable to truly agree with the plan. With a disappointed exhale, you loosen your hold, shuffle away, and give him his arm back.

“Baby?” he questions utterly bewildered and pouting slightly when you blearily peer over your shoulder at him. “I’m not going to try anything, we can just cuddle,” he promises, making you smile amusedly; you’d laugh but you’re still too tired.

“Bunny would tell us off if you stay home without good reason,” you point out.

“Being with you is the best reason!” he defends, looking genuinely offended that you’d say otherwise.

“Not when it means Han going out to sea alone; you know how protective she is.” Soonyoung deflates and rolls face down to groan into his pillow. “Exactly, so, off you go. See you later,” you say, and take the chance to pat his ass— it’s right there, it’s impossible to resist—, before you turn back over and get comfy.

“Touch my ass again,” he requests, then cracks up when you blindly reach back to hit him, though he’s already rolled out of bed, so you just hit empty air. “Alright, alright, I’m going. Go back to sleep, I’ll see you later, baby.” You just hum, and then he’s out of the room and making sure to shut the door behind him so that he doesn’t disturb you any further as he gets ready for the day.

After waking up pressed together the first morning after sharing the bed, it seems only natural to cuddle every night. It happens without any discussion too; you just tuck up against Soonyoung’s side the second night, and he doesn’t hesitate to put his arm around you as if it belongs there.

It’s not just at night that the affection reappears at full force as if you never broke up and it was forced to a stop. At every available opportunity, Soonyoung approaches you to put his arms around you and hold you close. The first time you curl up against his side on the sofa, he gets so happy that he doesn’t stop giggling, and consequently ruins the calm cuddling, causing you to move away from him; but he calms— mostly— and pouts so cutely at you that you can’t fight the urge to crawl right back into his arms.

Still, even with sharing a bed every night, even with holding one another at any given chance, even with moments where you’re certain Soonyoung wants to lean in and kiss you just as much as you want him to, things don’t really change. The two of you are in some kind of weird, unlabelled middle ground where you can’t realistically say “we’re just friends” anymore, but you also can’t say you’re in any kind of romantic relationship. Which, you don’t really mind, you’re genuinely enjoying all the affection and don’t really see the need to change things.

But once again, it’s Yoon Jeonghan who puts everything in motion.

“No! That’s cheating!” Soonyoung accuses, pointing a finger at Bunny from feet away, the pair standing in the middle of Bunny and Jeonghan’s living room, arguing yet again over the rules of a game. Soonyoung always accuses Bunny of cheating, Bunny argues back because she hates the false accusations, and you and Jeonghan just watch it all happen and wait for the moment Soonyoung realises he just hasn’t understood the game, again.

You’d think that after this many weekly game nights, Soonyoung would understand the rules of the games the four of you always play, but nope; the man can kill a person 57 ways with a piece of string, but he can’t understand the rules of a game with a minimum recommended age of 8 years old.

“So,” Jeonghan starts quietly, leaning closer to you where he’s sitting on your left on the sofa, bowl of popcorn in the space between you and almost gone thanks to the weekly dramatic entertainment of the pseudo-siblings before you.

“What?” you wonder, giving Jeonghan a suspicious side eye.

“Just wondering when you’re going to tell him you’re still in love with him.” He shrugs and tosses a piece of popcorn into his mouth. You blink at him a few times, then ever so slowly, turn your head forward to look at Soonyoung.

And then it hits you, right here and now, that Jeonghan’s right; you’re in love with Soonyoung. You’re still in love with Soonyoung.

You realise that you never fell out of love with the man, not really, you just convinced yourself you had because it was for the best. Admittedly, you weren’t wrong when you first decided to stop loving him; it really was better for you then to lose all feelings for the man. But it’s been over a year since then. It’s been months since you stopped being angry at him, since you let him back in. Not that you were doing a very good job of keeping your heart closed to him before then.

“Oh,” you whisper on an exhale, and hear Jeonghan’s pleased little giggle to your left, but you don’t pay it any attention, your sole focus is on Soonyoung and Soonyoung alone. Because Jeonghan is right— again— about you being in love with Soonyoung, and he’s right in his implication that you should tell Soonyoung. Without a thought besides “fuck it”, you decide to follow his words. “Soonie!”

Immediately, Soonyoung turns his head to look at you, his expression turning so soft and adoring, smile lifting his previously angrily pouting lips. “Yeah, baby?”

“Let’s get married.”

Jeonghan cracks up, tilting aside and leaning on the arm of the couch to his left with how sudden and hard he starts to laugh. “Not what I meant!” he wheezes.

Though, again, you’re not paying his amusement any attention and are instead focused on Soonyoung. Soonyoung who doesn’t seem to be fucking breathing. Worried, you get up and rush over to hold his face as he keeps his eyes glued to you, and his hands instinctively lift to hold onto your wrists. “Breathe, baby,” you encourage, stroking your thumbs over his cheeks.

Thankfully, Soonyoung is prompted to act like a functioning human and sucks in a harsh breath, coughs on it a little, but quickly returns to breathing properly. “Y–you want to marry me?” he whispers out, sounding choked and disbelieving. You nod, smiling a little, encouragingly. “Because of the locals? Because of the story we’re together and–and marriage is the next natural step in a story like that?”

“I truly, wholeheartedly, without hesitation, can say that I do not give a fuck what they think, Soonyoung,” you assure, amused by his reaction. You didn’t know how he’d react— honestly, you haven’t ever thought about proposing to him before, so it’s understandable you’ve never considered his reaction before— but you’re very surprised by his reaction and never would’ve expected it.

“You don’t?”

“Not in the slightest bit.”

“Then…why?”

“Why did do I want to marry you?” He nods, looking so adorably lost, yet hopeful at the same time. “I want to marry you, Kwon Soonyoung, because I am so violently in love with you.”

Soonyoung barely gets a surprised, soft inhale out, before he’s surging in to kiss you. Of course, you don’t hesitate to respond, and wrap your arms around his neck, his own winding around your waist as he melts against you.

“Ew!” Bunny exclaims, though she sounds fondly amused, while her husband cheers and claps from the sofa in between his pleased giggling. “Okay, great, we’re happy for you, congrats, now either detach and lets finish the game, or go fuck in your own house.”

You and Soonyoung do as requested and stop kissing, chests heaving as you lock eyes, and then immediately and silently decide to rush out of their house, with the pair laughing and catcalling behind you both.

“Baby, baby, baby,” Soonyoung calls, slowing and making you slow down too, only a few metres away from your house.

“Yes?” you reply, turning to look at him, feeling impatient now that you’ve got the chance to have your way with the unfairly attractive man for the first time in over a year, but always willing to slow down and hear him out when he requests it.

“Are you sure about this?” he checks, turning a gentle kind of serious as he gently brushes your hair away from your face with the hand not pressed palm to palm with your own.

“Fucking?” you ask bewildered.

“No,” he chuckles. “I know you’re good with that, we’re great at that together.” You nod in enthusiastic agreement— you two really did have a great sex life together back then—, and he giggles at your reaction. “Glad you agree.”

“I do, so let’s go inside and—”

“No, no, baby, I’m not done.”

“Oh.”

“I didn’t mean are you sure about the sex, I meant us. You just asked me to marry you, and I want to make sure that you really mean it; spending the rest of our lives together.”

“Of course I do,” you assure and press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you, and I want this to be real, not just a cover story.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too, I’ve always wanted that.”

“I know.” You frown, guilty and apologetic, but he kisses your head and you know he forgave you long ago, if he was even holding it against you in the first place. Knowing Soonyoung, he never blamed you, was never upset with you, just the situation he got you both into, and upset at himself. “I’m sorry it took me this long to realise that I never stopped loving you.”

“Oh… really? I thought you hated me.”

“I don’t think I could ever do that. You’re a lot of things, Kwon Soonyoung, but capable of doing anything to make me hate you, isn’t one of them.”

“Good.” Satisfied with your answers, he presses his lips to yours in a kiss that feels like a promise for a long, happy future together, yet also a threat that you won’t be able to walk in the morning without your thighs shaking. And honestly, you’re more than okay with that.

Kwon Soonyoung is a lot of things: cheeky, handsome, fun; still a lightweight with alcohol, great in bed, terrible with technology; in wonderful physical condition, quick on his feet, observant; once a highly sought after assassin, now a mediocre fishman, and awful at board games. But mostly, he’s the man you love with everything in you, and you’re more than happy to spend the rest of your life by his side.

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