Tags: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Roommates to lovers, Banter Mommy Kink, fuck gender roles, Pet Names, Cuddling, Teasing, confession of feelings, Unprotected Sex, Oral Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Squirting and Vaginal Ejaculation, Multiple Orgasms, Defining the Relationship

When I say kinky, I don't mean curls When I say give me, I mean the world When I say baby, you bite your lip I know exactly where you get your kicks

Because Baby I'm giving you the mommy issues Know I make you wish I put my body on you Say you'd give me anything When I call the shots, you call me

~ Mommy Issues -- Cloudy June

You sighed as you readjusted the ice pack on the back of your neck. This year had brought the hottest summer on record in almost 50 years, and you were feeling it. Now it was mid July, and you felt like the heat wave would never end. 

“Is it fall yet?” You asked yet again, narrowly dodging the pillow your roommate threw at you. "Surely it must be fall soon."

“No,” Wumuti scowled at you as he pulled his ash blonde, wavy hair into a ponytail. “I fucking wish though."

“What if we moved to Antarctica? What do you think the cost of living would be?"

“What if you stopped whining before I strangle you with your own cooling blanket?” He giggled.

“Wow, mean,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“What if I say I’d do it lovingly?” Wumuti fluttered his eyelashes at you. You stuck your tongue out at him in response.

You got up, crossing the room to the thermostat. It was already set well above what you and Wumuti normally kept it at, and the poor system was still struggling against the obscene temperatures outside. You sighed and reached for the controls.

“Don’t you dare,” Wumuti warned. “I know where you sleep.”

“Killjoy,” you pouted. “I am dying.”

“Do you want another absurd power bill?” Wumuti smirked. 

“Okay well, no…” You sighed. “Fine. Point taken.”

You watched as Wumuti stood and stretched languidly, letting out a deep breath as he worked out the tension from sitting on the couch all morning. You looked away quickly as he caught you staring. 

You hoped he wouldn’t blame you— after all, from the second you’d met him, you had been entranced about Wumuti’s otherworldly beauty. Hell, he had been in your phone as “Fae Boi” since day one, and when he found out he had proudly added a fairy emoji next to it.

There was also the matter of the unreasonably large crush that you had on him, that you refused to do anything about. 

Thankfully, he said nothing about you staring, again, excusing himself to the kitchen instead. You watched him go, sighing internally. Not that you had room to talk as far as this summer’s wardrobe went, but your roommate’s tendency to wear nothing but a crop tank and short shorts was driving you up the proverbial wall. Today’s shorts were so short that you could just see the edges of the rainbow tie-dye panties he had on. 

Despite all of this, you were determined to keep things how they were— just roommates. You had been through a slew of terrible ones to find Wumuti, and you knew you never wanted to let him go, regardless of how you might feel otherwise. 

Was it torture? Sure. 

But you’d be damned if you ever had to go searching for another roommate. 

You were sulking on the couch again, scrolling on socials, when Wumuti sidled up to you, setting down a tall glass on your tray table.

“Hydrate,” he told you. “Maybe you’ll be less whiny if you drink some ice water. It'll be good for you."

“Okay mommy,” you said with another eyeroll. “Jeez.”

Wumuti froze, and you glanced up to see him staring at you, deep brown eyes fixed on your face. You weren’t sure how to read his expression— a mixture of confusion and surprise— but something else as well, bordering on dangerous. 

Fuck, did I overstep?

It wasn’t the first time you’d ever referred to him with a female gendered term. On the contrary, you used such terms on the day-to-day. Wumuti had told you early on that he gave exactly zero fucks about traditional gender roles. 

But you had never called him mommy. 

And he’d never reacted like this. 

Regardless, Wumuti returned to his end of the couch a few moments later, grabbing his sketchbook and pencil as he contorted himself back into a pretzel. The rest of the day passed in relative silence, save for the music playing in the background.

But it wasn’t lost on you how many times you caught Wumuti staring at you for a change.

About a week later, you were still trying to forget what had happened. Neither of you had said anything about it, and you had assumed that it had been dropped. You’d made a mental note not to call him mommy again, and that was that. Wumuti’s demeanor hadn’t changed again since the incident, and for that you were thankful. He had been the same sweet, cheery person he always was with you.

You were especially glad considering the two of you happened to share a bed. You hadn’t originally, but when you had lost your job earlier in the year, you’d had to convert the second bedroom into a home office so you could work remotely for your new one. Since Wumuti had the bigger bed and the master suite anyway, the two of you had agreed it would be fine to share a bed. 

You didn’t mind it at all, for multiple reasons. There had been a fair share of platonic cuddling as the year had progressed, and you definitely weren’t upset about that— it had been quite a while since you’d dated, and you were way more touch starved than you ever wanted to admit. 

You were relieved when you woke the Saturday after the incident to find Wumuti clinging to you. You could just barely feel his soft breath against your neck, and you squirmed, trying to rearrange a bit. 

If there was one thing you absolutely did not need, it was Wumuti unintentionally teasing you. Sometimes you were embarrassed by how sensitive your neck was.

Now being one of those times, as you felt wetness already pooling between your legs.

“Nooo,” came Wumuti’s soft voice from behind you as he slotted himself back into place. “Cozy.”

“You’re tickling me,” you lied, stiffening up slightly when you felt the lightest of touches there as he curled around you again.

“You’re so tense, hon,” he murmured, detaching from you just a bit. You shivered as you felt him begin to scratch your back, the acrylic nails he wore tracing soothing patterns up and down through the thin fabric of your sleep shirt. 

“Wumuti…” You whispered. “Maybe now isn’t the time for this…”

“Oh, what’s wrong?” He stopped at once, moving to spoon you once more. “Are you still hurting from your sunburn last week?”

“No,” you said, hoping he wouldn’t pick up on the strain in your voice. “Just…”

“Just what?” He whispered, his lips now brushing the shell of your ear. 

“Wumuti…”

“When are you going to stop pretending, angel?” He asked, and your heart skipped a beat. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck oh my god fuck.

“P— pretending?” You stammered. 

“Pretending,” he continued to whisper, the tip of his nose now brushing the back of your neck— “That we haven’t wanted each other for ages.”

“Huh?” You squeaked. His arm was slung over you again, and he fumbled in the sheets, grasping for your hand and quickly intertwining his fingers with yours. 

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you react to my touch,” he continued as he hugged you tightly. “I notice the way you cling to me when we cuddle. How you absolutely melt into every single hug. How you never want to let go when we’re holding hands.”

“Um… I… Wumuti…” You mumbled. “Um…”

You had no idea what to say. 

No thoughts. Head completely empty, save for the feel of his breath, still on your neck.

“Wumuti,” you whined. 

“Shhh,” he said quietly. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” you choked out as his thumb rubbed gently over your own, hands still firmly entwined. “Don’t… Please don’t stop.”

You felt his lips brush against your ear again, and you inhaled sharply. 

“Then why don’t you relax and let mommy help you feel good… hmm, angel?”

Oh, holy fucking shit. He is going to kill me.

You were turning to face him in an instant, expecting to see a smirk on his face. But instead, you were met with the same dark stare you had received when you’d called him mommy the previous week. 

“Wumuti…” You started. He silenced you with one slender finger over your lips. 

“Hush,” he told you firmly, in an authoritative tone that left you almost dizzy. His gaze kept flicking to your lips, even after he took his finger away, and you watched as he closed the gap between you once more, carefully snaking an arm around your waist to pull you flush with him. 

You let your eyes flutter shut as he began to trace your features gently, tracing a single fingertip over your face. You found yourself suppressing a shiver every time his fingernail grazed your skin. 

A minute later, he took his hand away. You didn’t dare move a muscle. You couldn’t even open your eyes, so sure were you that this was all a dream. 

You felt Wumuti’s nose brush your own, the feather light touch of his lips on yours.

“Can I?” He whispered.

“Please,” you returned breathlessly.

“Please what?” You felt his grin against your lips.

“Please, mommy,” you whined. “Please kiss me…”

That was all the invitation he needed, and he crashed his lips onto yours, desperation pouring into the kiss as he licked into your mouth, nibbled at your lip, his own breaths coming in heady gasps. His arms were tightly wound around you now, one hand creeping lower to press into the small of your back. At the same time, he ground his hips against yours, and you moaned low. 

“Fuck… Wumuti…”

“That’s the idea, angel,” Wumuti cooed, pulling away to trail kisses across your jaw. He nipped lightly at your earlobe before bringing his lips up to whisper in your ear.

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t want for anyone else but me, ever again,” Wumuti said with the tiniest giggle. “How does that sound?”

“Please,” you begged, unsure what had come over you. “Please, mommy. Need you…”

“Going to be good for me?” He murmured against your neck as he kissed a sloppy trail down your neck to your collarbone. He paused there, sucking what you knew would be a deep mark into the sensitive flesh, and you could feel him giggling against your skin. "Let me make you come undone. Let me see how that beautiful face looks while you cum all over my cock."

“Yes,” you gasped. “So good for you…”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

He had one hand under your shirt now, creeping up your back. When he reached the base of your neck, he slowly dragged his nails back down, and you shuddered against him.

“Oh, this is fun,” he whispered. “Should have done this ages ago.”

“M… Muti…” Was all you could manage to get out. He giggled again, regarding you with a sly smile as he let you go, only so he could push you onto your back. He lost no time in straddling your hips, and you gasped as you felt his cock through his pajama bottoms. He shed his own tank top quickly, tossing it onto the floor, and your eyes widened.

“So pretty, mommy,” you mumbled. “Can I touch?”

“Of course you can, angel,” he nodded, reaching for your hands and guiding them to the firm plane of his belly. He leaned over you, his hard cock pressing into your belly, and you whined and bucked your hips up into his. You were delighted to feel him shiver under your touch, and he closed his eyes for a moment, clearly savoring the feel of your hands on him. 

Before you knew it, his own hands were under the hem of your shirt, and he pulled it up and over your head, dropping it over the side of the bed. Now it was his turn to gasp as he marveled at the sight of you. 

“Oh my,” he purred. “I just knew my angel would have gorgeous tits.” He reached for your already sensitive nipples, twisting sharply, a wicked grin on his face as you cried out. 

“Mommy!”

“Does that hurt, baby?”

“No,” you shook your head. “Feels good… So good…”

Time seemed to slow down as Wumuti knelt over you, covering your exposed chest with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Every so often he would pause, sucking yet more marks into your skin, licking over them to soothe the sting when he was done. 

You settled for gripping his thighs as he continued his ministrations, and as he moved lower, you let out a high pitched whine. 

“What’s wrong?” He asked, lips less than an inch away from the hem of your sleep shorts. “Tell mommy what you need.”

“I…” You felt drunk from the attention, and he had barely touched you yet. Not where you needed him the most. “Need…”

Wumuti moved off of you, trailing his fingertips over your clothed center, featherlight touches that only served to drive you even crazier. You shrieked when a fingernail brushed at your clit, and he laughed. 

“So sensitive.” 

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, your head spinning.

In a flash, Wumuti had hooked his thumbs into your sleep shorts, pulling them down and off in one smooth motion and tossing them off the bed with the rest of the already discarded clothing. He traced the waistband of your panties, a soft grin on his face. 

“Baby Yoda. Cute.”

“Okay look,” you giggled. “If I had expected this I’d have worn something sexier.”

“Fair point, sweetheart,” he nodded. “Maybe we should just take them off.” He pressed two fingers to the apex of your thighs, rubbing at the absolutely soaked fabric. “They don’t seem to be doing you much good anyway.”

All you could do was whine and nod. Seconds later, you were lying fully naked before him, and you could barely breathe. 

Is this what going insane feels like? He is the prettiest person I have ever met. What is he doing with me?

“Nuh-uh,” Wumuti shook his head, and you realized your thoughts may as well have been written on your face. “I know what you’re thinking. Don't you dare think I don't want you. You are all I want.” 

He leaned in to kiss you tenderly, deeply. You let yourself get lost in it, but you broke the kiss with a strangled cry as you felt Wumuti pushing your legs apart, teasing closer and closer to where you wanted him. 

“Please, oh my god,” you gasped. “Oh please.”

Wumuti stood, slipping his own sleep shorts off, and you scarcely had a second to stare at his cock— probably the prettiest you’d ever seen at that, head angry red and leaking pre-cum. He was back on the bed quickly, laying down between your legs as he pushed them further apart. You grabbed a pillow, covering your face with it and letting out a shrill scream.

“No no,” Wumuti tutted. “Let mommy hear those pretty sounds. You said you’d be good for me.”

“Yes mommy,” you whimpered as he leaned in, closing his lips around your swollen and extremely sensitive clit. 

“Mmm, so good,” he growled, sucking at your clit with an intensity that took your breath away. He flicked it with his tongue, and you heard him giggle as you arched your back and reached for his hair. He let you twine your fingers in it, and you tugged lightly.

“Is this what you wanted, pretty baby?” He asked. “Want mommy to eat you like it’s my last meal?”

“Oh god please yes,” you rambled. “I— WUMUTI!” You wailed as he licked a long stripe up your folds before pushing his face into your sopping cunt, devouring you like it was the only thing in the world that mattered. You pulled harder on his hair, but that only served to spur him on more.

“Good girl,” he sighed as he slipped a single finger inside you. “Fuck, you taste heavenly. I knew you were an angel.”

“Mommy!” You shrieked, arching your back and pushing your cunt more firmly against his face as he sank a second, and then a third finger into you in rapid succession. He curled them expertly, and you could feel the vibrations from his gentle laughter against your cunt. 

He began to thrust, pressing firmly against that sensitive spot inside you, and you were at the edge much faster than you anticipated, legs already shaking and breaths coming in strangled gasps as Wumuti continued to feast on your cunt. 

“Come,” he said simply. And that was all you needed— your body shuddering with wave after wave of pleasure. It had been so long since you’d come like this, and you had needed it more than you knew. Wumuti seemed to know, and he kept going, pushing you into a second release before you had come down from the first. You felt a rush of fluid gushing from you, and heard Wumuti’s surprised squeak. 

Did he just make me… oh my god?!

“So, so good for me,” he murmured quietly, still lapping at your folds, drinking up every drop of your cum. “I could eat you all day, I think. This could be my last meal for all I care, and I’d be happy.”

“Mommy,” you said shakily. “Please… I need you…”

He was on you in seconds, cock hard and heavy and nudging between your legs. You inhaled sharply at the warmth of his body covering yours, and he kissed you, bringing one hand to cradle your head gently. 

“You want me inside you, sweetheart?”

“Yes mommy,” you nodded obediently. “Please. I’ll be so good. So good for you,” you mumbled against his lips as you kissed him again, fingers twisting in his hair again. 

You felt him aligning the head of his cock with your entrance, and he pushed in devastatingly slowly, giving you time to adjust to his length. He cursed under his breath as he bottomed out, his hips flush with your own, and you could feel him twitching inside you. You clenched around him, and he rewarded you by pulling out a bit and slamming back inside. 

“MOMMY!” 

Wumuti set a slow pace at first, though you could tell he was having a hard time keeping it.

“My pretty angel,” he whispered, kissing you deeply. “This pussy was made for my cock.”

“Feels so good, mommy,” you sighed, letting your eyes close, relishing the feel of him opening you up.

Making you his.

Which was all you’d ever really wanted in the first place.

You clenched around him again, and he picked up the pace, thrusting hard and fast now, angling just right as he pushed into you over and over as if both your lives depended on it.

“Mommy,” you groaned. “I’m… oh help, fuck, oh god, oh help…” 

You were hurtling towards another release, this one coiling in your belly so tightly that you felt like it might destroy you. 

Then again, if this was the way you went, you couldn’t be mad.

Wumuti leaned in, kissing you softly, whispering against your lips. 

“I can feel you getting tighter and tighter, angel. Why don’t you be a good girl and come on mommy’s cock? Let go for me.”

He didn’t have to ask again— a few more messy thrusts and you were gone, screaming his name as you squirted again, soaking him further. He continued, his strokes becoming erratic, and he whined loudly.

“Where should mommy cum, hmm, angel? I'm so close."

“Inside me!” You cried out. “Please. Please please.”

“Want me to fill you up, baby? You going to be good for me one more time and take every drop?”

“Yes!”

You watched, almost in awe, as he came— eyes closed, fair features twisted up in ecstasy. He arched his back as he pushed inside you to the hilt, and you felt his cock pulsing as he emptined himself into your soaking cunt. As he came down from his own high, he lay down on top of you, cock still deep inside. 

He began to trace your features again, peppering your face with soft kisses.

“So, so good for me,” he murmured. “Precious, perfect angel. I think you really were made for me.”

“Mmm,” was all you could get out, and you brought your hands up to rub circles on his back as he kissed your lips gently. He pressed his forehead to yours, an enormous smile on his face. 

“Good morning,” he giggled. 

“Yes,” you nodded. "Very, very good."

“Are you okay?” His expression morphed to concern, but softened again when you nodded vigorously. 

“Yeah, you just bluescreened my brain cell is all,” you laughed. 

“And I’d do it again if you let me,” he said matter-of-factly. “But later. For now, let’s get cleaned up.”

You sighed as he pulled out, already missing the feel of his cock. He excused himself for a moment, returning with a damp cloth, and he carefully cleaned you up before crawling into bed again, tugging you close and kissing your forehead. 

“I don’t know about you,” he said softly. “But I think this summer is looking up now… for both of us.”

“Mmhmm,” you agreed. 

“Will you be mine, angel?” He asked, voice barely a whisper, as if he were afraid you would say no.

“I think I’ve always been yours,” you told him, heart threatening to beat out of your chest as he beamed at your answer.  

“Good,” he nodded, cradling you to his chest. “So it’s settled.”

“Sounds like it,” you said, grinning as you heard his heart racing. “Promise you’ll take good care of me, mommy?”

Tags: friends to lovers, hangouts, implied cannabis use, awkward crush, awkwardness, first kiss, safe sane and consensual, threesome - F/M/M, safewords, oral sex, vaginal fingering, sex toy use, sexual overstimulation, multiple orgasms, forced orgasm, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, post-coital cuddling, defining the relationship, happy ending

And these could be the best or darkest days The lines we walk are paper thin And we could pull this off or push away 'Cause you and me have always been So close So close to giving up So close to going all the way

~ Andrew McMahon in the Wildnerness, "So Close"

You hurried to get the door as someone stood on the other side, endlessly mashing the doorbell. There wasn’t a single doubt in your head who might be the culprit, and sure enough, you opened the door to find Hongjoong there as planned, with Wooyoung at his side, a wide smile on his face and a twinkle in his eye. 

“I picked up a stray,” Hongjoong laughed. "Hope that's okay with you. Wooyoung didn't seem to think it would be."

“Oh, gee, both my best friends here together? You’ll have no objections from me,” you laughed as Wooyoung stepped forward to envelop you in a full on koala hug. You froze as he gave you a peck on the cheek, suddenly self-conscious in front of Hongjoong. You’d had a huge crush on Hongjoong or quite a while now, and although you were sure he didn’t feel the same, some small part of your brain was still clinging to the hope that one day he’d up and confess some feelings of his own.

Until then, you supposed you didn’t mind the alternative. When you had moved six years ago, you had never imagined that you’d have found such caring and kind friends in your new city, but the universe clearly had had plans for you. You had bumped into Hongjoong and Wooyoung one night at a late movie— quite literally in fact. You still remembered the resultant mess— the contents of two large buckets of popcorn strewn across the floor, drinks spilled, and several angry staff. 

The wild laughter that followed from all three of you was enough for said staff to ask you all to leave, and your newfound acquaintances lost no time in inviting you to their favorite 24 hour diner as an alternative.

Since then, the three of you had been joined at the hip, and you had quickly fallen in with the rest of their friend circle to boot. 

“I brought snacks,” Hongjoong announced as Wooyoung detached himself from you. Woo grinned mischievously. 

“I brought something too,” he giggled. 

“Should I be scared?” You feigned horror as you let them in, though you had a feeling you knew what the surprise was.

Hongjoong made a beeline for the kitchen, and Wooyoung sauntered in behind him, that same grin never leaving his lips. 

“Let’s just say… I thought of a way we can really… elevate … our rot day,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. 

Called it. What a dork. But also… hmm. I hope that doesn’t make things weird.

Hongjoong appeared at your elbow, slipping an arm around you and giving you a gentle side hug, causing your heart to drop into your feet. You knew that he was generally hesitant when it came to skinship, and more than a little picky about who he chose to allow himself to be close to. You had noticed over the last several months that he seemed to be getting more comfortable with you, which had been both a blessing and a curse. Part of you wanted at the very least to be able to cuddle with him the way you sometimes did with Wooyoung.

The rest of you knew that was a supremely terrible idea; the more Hongjoong paid you attention, the harder it was to talk yourself out of your stupid crush.

You knew if it ever escalated from where you were now, you were a goner.

Absolutely unfair, really.

Once the three of you were comfortably sprawled out around the living room— you and Hongjoong on opposite ends of the sectional and Wooyoung in your old, well-worn recliner, Woo reached for his computer bag with a giggle. 

“So… I brought gummies,” he announced. “No one is obligated of course, but they’re here if anyone wants.” 

You watched as he opened the small pack and ate one himself, holding it out to you next.

"Jagiya?"

You tried to ignore the tingle down your spine at the pet name.

“Oh, sure, why not,” you shrugged, and Woo tossed the bag to you. Although it wasn’t a regular occurrence for you, you did occasionally enjoy getting out of your head like this. The few times you had done so had really amped your creativity, to the point where you could absolutely see why Wooyoung had recommended it in the first place. As a budding writer, you were now nearly done with your very first novel, and you had scads of ideas logged away for future endeavors.

You checked the dose on the bag before partaking, and held it out to Hongjoong.

“Joongie?”

“Sure, just don’t make fun of me if I fall asleep immediately,” he giggled. “Might as well at least try to be on the same level once you and Wooyoung get even more silly I guess.”

“I’m quite sure I don’t know what you mean,” Wooyoung said airily as he turned to his book. “I’m very serious all the fucking time.”

“Yeah, and I’m the Queen of England,” Hongjoong scoffed as he downed his gummy and opened his laptop. 

“Someday someone will believe me,” Wooyoung said solemnly. “Just you wait.”

“Music preferences?” You interjected as Hongjoong made a face at Wooyoung.

“No preference,” both of them said in unison. 

“Weird nostalgia playlist it is,” you shrugged, pulling up a lengthy playlist of your old favorites and hitting play. 

“Weird playlist for the weirdo,” Woo said. “Who’d have thunk.”

You threw a pillow at him, which he caught effortlessly, laughing brightly as he did so. 

“You asked the elder emo what she wanted to listen to, now live with the consequences, Jung Wooyoung.”

“Wow, you didn’t have to government name me,” Woo pouted as he snuggled down further under your favorite blanket and picked up his book again. “Gosh.”

“Are there days people don’t have to do that?” Hongjoong asked, eyes never leaving his computer, but you could see the faint smirk on his lips.

His stupid, perfect, disgustingly kissable lips. 

You tried to internalize the sigh as you turned to your writing. You had been having some trouble with the resolution of one of the core relationship conflicts, which annoyed you in more ways than one, but mostly because at this point you felt it was just a parallel to your predicament with your crush on Hongjoong.

You shook your head as you began to feel the effects of the gummy, and glanced over to your friends. Wooyoung was engrossed in his book, one foot sticking out from under the blanket as he lay sprawled out on the recliner, absentmindedly cuddling one of your Stitch plushies. 

Hongjoong, however, was staring at you, eyes slightly glazed over, and you froze, quickly looking back to your computer screen. You heard a small kerfuffle and peered to the right as best you could without moving your head to see Hongjoong closing his laptop and moving the tray table aside.

“I need a snack,” he said hurriedly.

“Ooh, munchies already?” Woo asked. “Will you bring me the bag of gummy worms?” He added.

“Sure,” Hongjoong nodded. He turned to you, cheeks visibly flushed. “Do you want something?”

“I don’t suppose you brought pretzels—” You started, and Woo began to giggle.

“Hongjoong was sure to pick out some of your favorite snacks,” Woo said, brushing his long black hair out of his face. 

“I got two kinds of hummus,” Hongjoong mumbled. “Roasted garlic and that lemon dill one you like.”

“Roasted garlic please,” you hummed happily. 

Not like I’m gonna be kissing anyone anytime soon.

You immediately regretted this thought, as your thoughts were loosening up further, and you were well aware of where they’d go if you let them run unchecked. You turned back to your writing instead, but found yourself just staring at the screen. You startled when Hongjoong appeared in front of you, offering the bag of pretzels and a small dipping cup of hummus.

“Thanks Joongie,” you said, and now it was your turn to blush. You noticed Wooyoung was staring at you and Hongjoong, the biggest shit-eating grin plastered on his face. 

You watched as Hongjoong quietly returned to his station on the sofa and reopened his laptop. 

“What are you working on?” You asked him, your curiosity getting the best of you. Hongjoong had been designing clothing since you’d known him, but he had recently been hired by a brand local to you, and they had immediately asked him to design a line for them. You knew he was excited, but you also had no doubt that he was probably stressing over it too. But now, with relaxation flowing through his veins, he happily scooted closer to you, bringing his laptop with him.

You listened, your slight haze growing a bit as Hongjoong animatedly walked you through the dress designs he’d been working on that week. He was quick to blush as you complimented his work, raving over a few designs in particular that you knew you’d have to have for your own closet. Hongjoong returned to his end of the couch, now seventeen shades of red. Out of nowhere, Wooyoung chuckled to himself, and your eyes flicked to him. As you suspected, he was not laughing at his book, but he was looking at you with a knowing grin.

You hadn’t meant to let Wooyoung know about your crush, but if anyone was good at reading people, and even better at learning their secrets, it was Jung Wooyoung. You glowered as you tried to return to your writing, but your brain was too far gone, and the only thing left was Hongjoong. The snack you’d had had only served to elevate you further, and you flipped over to your socials instead as the room fell quiet again, save for the music still playing over the speaker. 

You jumped as you got a Discord notification from Wooyoung.

Wooyounggg_ [2:53pm]: Hongjoong keeps staring at you :)

You tapped out an answer, your eyes flicking over to Hongjoong. Sure enough, he was looking at you again, and your heart skipped a beat.

You [2:54pm]: Listen here you absolute carrot don't make me murder you I like that chair too much to bloody it up

Wooyoung burst into a fit of giggles, and you rolled your eyes. Hongjoong remained oblivious, though he had managed to wrestle his gaze back to his own computer.

You [2:54pm]: He’s just super stoned. Remember the time Mingi gave him half of one of his homemade brownies and he slept for 20 hours? Poor guy is probably totally zonked.

Wooyounggg_ [2:55pm]: I will never forget or let our darling Joongie live it down. But it’s not just that.

Wooyounggg_ [2:55pm]: You know as well as I do that people tend to be more real when they’re under the influence. ;) 

You sighed. He was right, of course. You knew this from experience.

Most notably, the first time you and Woo had gotten high together, which had started quite innocently, and had ended in heated makeouts and an all-nighter for the history books. Since then, the two of you had decided to just be friends, but you knew you’d never get those memories out of your head.

If you were being really, truly honest with yourself, you liked both of them. You had realized quickly that you had more of an attachment to Wooyoung than you wanted to admit.

But the risk of ruining everything had kept you from going any further with him, and anywhere at all with Hongjoong. They were friends. That was that. As much fun as you’d had with Woo during your previous escapades, you knew you couldn’t chance repeating it.

Your head snapped to the side as you heard Hongjoong sputtering, and Wooyoung began to laugh again. Joong was clearly loopy now, not that you were faring much better, though you were also willing to bet you were slightly more functional than him, considering he had entirely missed his mouth when taking a drink, dumping water down his shirt instead. 

“Fucking fuck,” he muttered. You flitted to the kitchen to grab a towel, bringing it back to him and helping him clean up. You took a seat next to him, sensing some prickliness, and gently laid a hand on his forearm. His eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as his gaze flicked from yours, to your hand, and back again.

Seconds later, he was pulling away, shoving his laptop into his bag, muttering about how he should probably head home and lie down. Your eyes stung with tears, and you silently admonished yourself for reacting the way you were. You had been scared it was only a matter of time before you overstepped somehow. 

And of course all of us being zooted helps exactly nothing.

He was out the door in less than five minutes, leaving you sitting on the couch, chest heaving as you tried to calm yourself. Wooyoung was next to you almost unreasonably quickly. 

“You okay, jagi?”

“I don’t know what I did,” you sighed, ignoring the pet name. 

“I’ll go get him,” Wooyoung told you. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No,” you said, taking a swig of water. “Um. I’ll go.”

Wooyoung did not say a word, but gave you a sly grin. You rolled your eyes yet again and clambered to your feet, donning a pair of slippers as you stepped outside to go find Hongjoong. 

You were surprised to find he had not gone far, and was standing just outside your apartment door, fumbling with a rideshare app. You closed the door behind you quietly, clearing your throat quietly. Hongjoong jumped, nearly throwing his phone.  

“Joongie. What’s wrong?” You frowned. “I thought we were having a nice day.”

“Nothing,” he muttered. “Just… thought maybe I should go home? I don’t know. I just.” He shook his head. “I can’t think straight right now is all.”

“Why leave though?” You wrinkled your nose. “I don’t even understand what hap—“

Your sentence was cut short as Hongjoong stepped to you, slipping his arms around your waist and tugging you to him roughly, his lips crashing onto yours in a heated, desperate kiss. You gasped against his lips, but it did not deter him, not that you minded in the slightest. He pushed you back against the door with a thump , pressing his body to yours in the same second as he continued to kiss you like his entire existence depended on it. 

Your head was spinning now, and you thought you heard a cackle from the other side of the door. You broke the kiss, and a split second later Wooyoung opened the door. Hongjoong caught you before you tumbled backwards, pulling you back to him and holding you tightly. 

“Hey there kids,” Wooyoung said gleefully. “Having fun out here?”

“Shut up, Wooyoung,” you and Hongjoong said in unison. 

“All I’m saying is it’s more comfortable in here,” Woo said insistently, and you caught the wink he gave you. 

Carefully, you extracted yourself from Hongjoong’s grasp, and he allowed you to lead him back into the apartment, though you could tell he was somewhat timid, his face still flushed red. 

“Should I leave you guys to it?” Wooyoung asked, still grinning from ear to ear as you and Hongjoong sat down together on the sofa. “Or…” He winked at you again. 

“Or?” You raised an eyebrow at Wooyoung. 

“You know,” he said sheepishly, his cheeks turning pink.

“Jung Wooyoung, are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” 

“I mean…” he shrugged. “I bet I could show Hongjoong a thing or two.”

“Wait, wait,” Hongjoong said, and you could see the gears turning in his head. “Did… did you guys sleep together?!”

“There is a distinct possibility that that is a thing that happened,” you admitted. “Sorry we didn’t tell you. It was totally an impromptu thing and it didn’t happen again and I didn’t want to—“

“Well that’s not fair,” Hongjoong said calmly, interrupting as he scooted closer to you. Carefully, he pushed you back against the pillows next to you, and before you knew it, his upper body was pressing you down further as he kissed you again, with a renewed fervor that left your head spinning even more than it had been. He broke the kiss after a few moments, and you stared at him blankly. He had not moved, his weight on top of you comforting yet insanity-inducing. You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

“Is…” You blinked, trying to clear the fog in your head and knowing it was a losing battle all the same. “Is this real?”

“Hmm, sounds like you need convincing,” Wooyoung surmised, stroking his chin as if he was thinking big thoughts. “I have a few ideas as to how we could orchestrate that.”

“I’m sure you do, you little shit,” you fired back, still hyper aware that Hongjoong was basically still lying on top of you. Wooyoung let out a high-pitched giggle, and you sighed.

“Are… are you guys sure this is what you want?”

“To be clear, we are talking about a threesome, right?” Hongjoong asked, his question followed by a nervous giggle. 

“Yes, Hongjoong,” Wooyoung said exasperatedly. “God. You need to get out more.”

“Well, I’m out now,” Hongjoong whispered as he lowered his lips to yours again. “Should we take this adventure somewhere more comfortable?” He whispered against your lips as he kissed you softly now, with deep, unhurried kisses that had you gasping for breath. It felt so intimate, even though you could feel Wooyoung’s eyes on you, could see his smirk in your mind’s eye.

“S…sure,” you managed to get out. At once, Hongjoong had moved, and he and Wooyoung were hauling you to your feet. Wooyoung stopped you before you could take a step, snaking his arms around your waist and pulling you to him to kiss you deeply. He giggled into the kiss, as he nipped at your lip, sucked on your tongue. He had clearly not forgotten a single thing from your previous encounter. You felt wetness pooling between your thighs at an embarrassing rate now. The idea of being with both of them was almost enough to make you come on the spot.

“Mmm,” Wooyoung murmured as he came up for air.” I missed this, not gonna lie. I don’t think once was enough.”

“Come on,” Hongjoong urged, taking your hand. Wooyoung let you go, taking your other hand and squeezing it. 

You led them to your bedroom slowly, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest. Part of you hoped you weren’t making a huge mistake.

The rest of you was practically vibrating at the chance to finally show Hongjoong how you felt about him, in more ways than one. 

The second you were across the threshold of your bedroom, you found yourself sandwiched between your friends, their hands everywhere at once, two sets of lips kissing every bit of exposed skin they could reach— which happened to be a lot, considering you’d dressed for comfort in sweats and a tank top that probably showed just a bit too much . 

You felt hands tugging at the waistband of your pants, and looked back to see Wooyoung with a wicked grin. He leaned over to whisper in your ear. 

“Wanna let me show Hongjoong how to make you come?” 

You gulped. You turned back to Hongjoong, who was staring at you, wide-eyed. 

“Joongie?” You asked. “Would you like that?” You took a deep breath as you put your hands on his waist, pushing his t-shirt up and hooking your thumbs underneath to graze his pecs as you pulled it up and over his head. 

“Oh my god, fuck,” Hongjoong whined as you pressed your lips to his collarbone, kissing a trail across and down, trailing your tongue lightly across what was evidently a very sensitive area. 

“Careful, jagiya,” Woo laughed. “You’re gonna make him come in his pants before we even get started.” 

Wooyoung made quick work of your clothes, then his own, but Hongjoong stood stiffly now, staring at you, jaw falling open as you strode back over to him. You tugged at the waistband of his own sweatpants. 

“You should take these off,” you asked softly. “What’s wrong, Joongie? Are you nervous?”

I say as though I’m not . Holy fucking hell. 

He fixed you with an unreadable gaze, and you began to trace soft lines over his hips. When he did not stop you, you hooked your thumbs into his waistband, pulling everything down in one go. His cock was rock-hard, and you tried not to stare, imagining how that girth would be stretching you out later, pushing into you over and over until both of you were quivering messes. 

Without thinking, you dropped to your knees, unsure where your sudden courage was coming from, but fully willing to embrace it. You ghosted your palms up Hongjoong’s thighs, watching as gooseflesh rose in their wake. As you began to tease closer to his cock, Hongjoong let out a loud moan. 

“Tell me to stop,” you whispered. “We don’t have to do any of this.”

“Please don’t,” Hongjoong hissed as he grabbed your shoulders. “Please, fucking hell, do not stop…”

You moved to grasp Hongjoong’s cock at the base, and he cried out at the contact, stumbling a bit and catching himself on the wall next to him.

“Maybe we should lay you down,” you suggested, straightening up. “Before you fall and hurt something.”

“I’m fine,” he mumbled. 

“No sir,” you tutted. You grabbed his wrist and guided him to your bed, and he begrudgingly clambered up to lie down in the center. 

“Oh fuck me, my head is spinning more lying down,” Hongjoong whined.

“Hmm, that’s too bad,” you said softly as you lay down on your tummy on the bed, pushing his legs apart. You could feel his eyes on you, and you peered up at him through your lashes as you lowered your lips to the head of his cock, tongue swiping up the drops of pre-cum. 

“Oh, holy shit,” Hongjoong whined, immediately trying to thrust up into your mouth. You were quick to lay a hand on his waist, pressing him down into the mattress.

“No no,” you chided, dipping your head lower, taking him into your mouth inch by inch, relaxing your throat as you went. As your nose nudged at his pelvic bone, he let out a long string of curses, hands scrabbling to grab ahold of you. 

“Please move,” he begged. “Oh please. Please. Fuck.”

You hummed as you began to suck him, drawing out each movement, licking slowly and firmly up his shaft, swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, changing things up every few moments to make him extra insane.

You yelped as you felt fingers between your own legs, and looked to one side to see Wooyoung perched on the bed, stroking his own cock with one hand. His other was now pushing your legs apart, wasting no time finding your slick folds. 

“Ah… so, so wet for us,” Wooyoung cooed. “Hongjoong, just wait til you feel this perfect pussy…”

Wooyoung shoved two fingers into you without warning, and you nearly choked on Hongjoong’s cock as Woo stretched you open. 

“Oh, fuck,” Hongjoong whined as you picked up your pace, working the base of his cock with one hand while you continued to suck him off with a renewed intensity, matching Wooyoung’s pace as he finger-fucked you from behind. Woo’s next thrusts hit you in just the right spot, and you moaned around Hongjoong’s cock. 

“I’m… help,” Hongjoong whined. “Close, I’m getting close, ah, fuck, fuck…”

You did not relent despite Hongjoong’s high pitched cries that he was overstimulated, and continued through until his cock was pulsing, shooting thick ropes of hot cum down your throat. You swallowed every drop before backing off a bit, continuing to give kitten licks to the head until he found the strength to sit up and scramble away from you. 

“Perfect," Wooyoung remarked as he stopped his own movements. He brought his fingers to his lips, licking them clean. “Ah, fuck. Forgot how good you taste,” he moaned, and you heard Hongjoong groan in the background at the mere idea of tasting you. 

Woo was across the room now, rummaging in the bottom drawer of your dresser. You joined Hongjoong in the center of the bed, and he kissed you deeply as you leaned back against the pillows.

“I can’t believe you,” he whispered. “That was…”

“Do you need a do-over to believe it?” You asked with a wicked grin. His eyes widened, and you giggled. “Don’t look so scared, Joongie.”

“Not scared,” he breathed. “Just… haven’t come like that in a long time… Wanna…” His cheeks were red again, and you kissed him softly.

“Wanna what?”

“I wanna make you come too,” he said breathlessly as he kissed you again. “I want… I want you… in every way, please…”

“You scrambled his brains already,” Wooyoung laughed as he returned, holding a few things behind his back. “What happened to pacing?”

Hongjoong flipped Wooyoung off, and Woo cackled in response as he crawled onto the bed, reaching for your ankle and tugging your leg.

“On your back, jagiya,” Wooyoung instructed. “Now, please.”

“Or what?” You challenged. 

“Or I’ll go back for the restraints,” Wooyoung warned. “Don’t test me today.”

You shivered. This was a side of Wooyoung you were unfamiliar with. 

“Do it then,” you said smugly. Wooyoung stared at you for a second.

"Color?"

"Green."

"Safeword?"

"Red."

"Good," he said shortly, turning and heading back to the dresser. You glimpsed a black box in his hand, and clenched around nothing.

Oh fuck, so he’s going to show Hongjoong how to totally and completely ruin me. Fabulous.

Hongjoong was a little bit concerned at the restraints given the circumstances but calmed down significantly when scissors were brought out as a potential safety measure.

He then lost zero time lying down next to you on the bed, pressing his flushed, naked body close to your own, slender fingers tracing your skin, and it wasn’t lost on you how he was marveling at the experience. 

“I… I don’t even know what to do first,” Hongjoong admitted. "You're so fucking pretty that it makes me feel insane."

“Her neck is sensitive,” Wooyoung piped up from over near the dresser, where he was rummaging again, and came back holding your vibrator as well. “Also, she likes it when you twist her nipples.”

“Jesus Christ in a crock pot, Woo, just tell him all my secrets why don’t—” 

Your words died in your throat as Hongjoong leaned in, pressing sloppy, desperate kisses down the column of your neck, across your collarbone, then dipping lower. Once his lips reached your breasts, he began to suck a trail of marks before closing his mouth around one nipple and sucking hard. Your immediate whine must have been like music to his ears, as you heard him giggle. Instead of pulling away however, he reached for your other nipple with one hand,  twisting it firmly as Wooyoung had suggested.

“Holy fuck, Hongjoong,” you whimpered as he continued to tease. “You’re— FUCK!”

Your entire body tensed as you felt Wooyoung shove two fingers into you roughly. 

“Hmm,” he murmured. “Good.”

Just as quickly, his fingers were gone, replaced by heavy, cold metal, and you shrieked at both the intrusion and the temperature. 

“Mmmhmm. She likes this metal dildo a lot,” Wooyoung explained to Hongjoong, speaking in such a casual way he might as well have been just explaining how to do any simple task. 

“I can tell,” Hongjoong breathed, nipping at your neck. Between your legs, Wooyoung was staring up at you with a wicked grin as he began to fuck you slowly with the toy. He was gentle, but clearly had not forgotten the firm upstrokes to your g-spot that were bound to make to come in seconds flat— and so you did, tumbling off the edge as your release ripped through you like a wave of blistering heat. 

You were completely unsurprised that he did not relent, sending you quickly into another orgasm without giving you time to come down. 

“Wooyoung, I adore you,” you whined. “But the second you let me out of these restraints— FUCKING HELL!” 

You came again, having been partially distracted by your empty threat, head spinning as you tried to form any coherent sentence.

It did not help in the least that the effects of your earlier edible were in full swing, elevating your releases to levels you had never dreamed were possible. 

That being said, it also enhanced the overstimulation— something which Wooyoung knew full well, as he pushed you towards yet another orgasm, now with the vibrator planted firmly on your clit and set to an infuriatingly teasing pattern. 

“Wooyoung, please, please,” you choked out, though you couldn’t stop your hips from bucking at the toy every time he plunged it into you. “Woo. Baby. Please.”

“Oh, you want me to stop? Okay,” he said nonchalantly, ceasing his movements at once. The brattiness was radiating from him in waves, and you rolled your eyes. You had been close again, of course, but you weren't sure whether you could have handled another orgasm so quickly.

Then again, you also regretted not trying, if for no other reason than it was Wooyoung. 

You knew he knew this too, judging from the look on his face. 

“You little shit.”

“Who me?” Wooyoung chirped, gesturing to himself. “What an accusation!"

“She does have a point,” Hongjoong said dryly. 

“Wow, you guys stink,” Woo laughed. "Whatver."

“I want to try,” Hongjoong said, abruptly changing the subject.

Oh god, help me.

Wooyoung handed Hongjoong the dildo, and you tried not to giggle as they discussed in hushed tones. You could tell Hongjoong was afraid of hurting you— it was in the way he gently pushed the toy in, the hesitation in his initial movements. But before long, you were over the edge again, begging loudly for them to give you a break. 

You were unsurprised that Hongjoong relented, but judging from the way Wooyoung was moving, you could tell he already had other ideas. 

He’s so… I don’t even know. Insane? But also… good god damn, if these encounters with him aren’t some of the hottest I’ve ever had. Fuck.

"How about we let our pretty girl out of her restraints before we have some more fun?" Wooyoung suggested. You saw Hongjoong flush bright red at Woo’s verbiage, and he slipped out of the room, muttering something about getting water. Wooyoung proceeded to untie you, and rested quietly with you on the bed, massaging your wrists and ankles until Hongjoong came back bearing a few bottles of water. After the three of you had hydrated, Hongjoong lay down on your other side. 

You felt fingers nudging your legs apart again, and glanced to see it was Hongjoong taking the initiative. The second he touched your clit, you nearly came off the bed with a shriek. 

“Mmm. So sensitive,” Hongjoong whispered. “So many things I want to do, but I want to be inside you the most,” he admitted with a small smile and another rather impressive blush. 

“Idea,” Woo chimed in.

Yep, there it is.

“Jagiya,” Wooyoung said sweetly as he nuzzled your cheek. “What would you say to me fucking your mouth while Hongjoong fucks that tight little cunt?”

“I’d probably accuse you of trying to murder me,” you answered, turning your head to face him. He kissed you softly, but nipped at your lip as he pulled back.

“Only a tiny bit. But in a good way,” he assured you. "So it's still legal."

"Oh, is that so?"

"Mmhmm," he said as he kissed you softly. 

Moments later, Hongjoong was slotting himself between your legs, having given you some reprieve from the overstimulation, if only for a short time. 

Wooyoung was moving too, throwing one leg over you to straddle your upper body, moving closer and checking that you were okay every step of the way.

“Color?” He asked, clearly just wanting to be sure.

“Green as fuck, my dude,” you breathed. “Are you going to let me suck that pretty cock or just dangle it in front of me?"

Wooyoung pushed into your mouth at the exact time Hongjoong buried himself in you to the hilt, but your cry was muffled by Woo’s cock. 

Hongjoong began to move first, and you whined, causing Wooyoung to curse and hunch over, grabbing the headboard for leverage. He was looking down at you as he fucked into your mouth with slow, deliberate thrusts that you knew were driving him even more insane than they were you. Wooyoung loved to be teased and edged; he had confessed this to you the first time you’d slept together— which is how that night had ended with you bending him over your bed and giving him the strap until he was pleading and beating at the mattress, begging for you to let him come. 

Oops. Maybe this is payback. Oh well. Not sorry.

Your head was surprisingly clear for just a few moments, before Hongjoong changed his angle slightly, and you nearly came again right then and there. You tried to speak, but Wooyoung continued to fuck your mouth, and your words came out garbled, saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth.

“I think that’s a good angle, Hongjoongie,” Wooyoung called back to him. "Keep it up."

“Mmm. Good for me too,” Hongjoong whined, and he increased the pace, hitting you just right every time in the process. 

Hongjoong was the first to come, spilling inside you as you crashed with him. Wooyoung followed quickly, emptying himself into your throat, praising you as you swallowed it all and continued to suck until he was overstimulated himself. They pulled out of you quickly, losing no time in lying back down and snuggling close. 

“Wow.” Hongjoong was first to break the silence. “Just… wow.”

“Mmm,” you agreed. 

“Yep,” Wooyoung nodded. “Wow, fuck, holy shit, all those good terms. Yeah.”

After a shared shower, the three of you returned to your bed after a quick stop in the kitchen to retrieve snacks. You flipped on the TV, navigating to a movie that was familiar to all, before settling back down between them. 

“I could get used to this,” Wooyoung said suddenly.

“Same,” Hongjoong murmured. “For sure.”

“Wait, hold on,” you said, sitting up. They followed you, each slipping an arm around your waist. 

“We should just tell her,” Woo said. 

“Tell me what, exactly?” You asked cautiously. 

“You tell,” Wooyoung told Hongjoong, and you smacked him in the back.

“You brought it up, dweeb.”

Hongjoong sighed. 

“I wanted to hang out today because I wanted to talk to you,” Hongjoong said quietly. “I… I wanted to ask if you’d go on a date with me. And then I told Wooyoung, and he wanted to tag along to… I don’t know. Cheer me on? But also…”

“Also?”

“I like you too,” Wooyoung blurted out, clapping a hand over his mouth immediately. 

“You…” You were trying to get a handle on what was happening, your brain clearer now but but not at 100%. “Huh? You both like me?”

“So yeah, we kinda… did things… backwards...” Hongjoong started, but you cut him off.

“That’s not really so important,” you reassured him as you took a deep breath, still a little scared to make your own confession. “What is important is that… I like you both as well.”

Neither of them seemed particularly shocked by this news, which made you wonder if you had ever been good at hiding it.

Oops?

“Mmm,” Wooyoung hummed happily, nuzzling into your shoulder and giving you a squeeze. On your other side, Hongjoong was pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“So…” You said. 

“So you’re our girlfriend now?” Wooyoung asked eagerly, eyes shining with excitement.

“Please?” Hongjoong added. 

"Say yes?" Woo giggled.

“Absolutely,” you told them, without hesitation. “I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t wanted this… so… you can have all of me. I’m yours,” you said breathlessly.

“Ours,” Hongjoong repeated.

“Ours,” Wooyoung affirmed, as they lay you back and snuggled up to you like it was the most natural thing in the world. “I like that you’re ours, jagi.”

Tags: friends to Lovers, fluff and smut, banter, kissing, making out, first kiss, love confessions, desperate sex, first time together, vaginal fingering, oral sex, squirting and vaginal ejaculation, vaginal sex, sexual overstimulation, dirty talk, sex toy use, Wooyoung is a very polite lover, new relationship, inside jokes, laughter during sex, joking during sex, sharing a bed, sharing a shower

Lying on the hood of your car We thought we could fly To the planets and stars It was stunning Lying on the hood of your car A scaffold of lights A world that was ours The engine running Lying on the hood of your car

-- Lying on the Hood Of Your Car ~ Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness

You heaved a heavy sigh as you flipped from app to app on your phone. It had been hours since you'd gone to bed, but you could not seem to wind down. You frowned at the time— just past 2:30am. You’d even gotten in bed early, and your roommate Wooyoung had come to bed not long after. He was, and had been for that matter, snoozing soundly since he had settled down.

You were intensely jealous, as you were still wide awake and feeling restless as hell, which was unfortunately your norm nowadays. Work and life stress had been getting to you, and getting old quickly.

You let your head loll to the side, watching Woo as he slept. You could only see him from the nose up under the comforter, and he had one arm contorted over his head as he lay with his face half smashed into the pillow. His long hair cascaded down over his fair features, and you resisted the urge to play with it.

I don’t know how he sleeps like that and then wakes up like it’s no big deal. 

You sighed again and went back to your phone, but you clicked the screen off again after a few seconds.

Lots of people thought it was weird, that you had a male roommate— even weirder, when folks found out you shared a bed.

But it wasn’t like that. Wooyoung was your best friend, your partner in crime. You had met him in college when he’d been an exchange student freshman year, and he had opted to stay around, even after you graduated. Naturally, both of you being broke new grads, you decided to live together to save money. He was working in a local, well-known theatre, whereas you had gone the healthcare route and were now a home health nurse. You had started your adventure with Woo in a one bedroom house, and the two of you were now so comfortable together that you’d opted to keep the same sleeping arrangements even after you were able to upsize.

Wooyoung was the best friend you’d ever had, and some days you still couldn’t believe the universe had given him to you. Six years after graduation, you were joined at the hip more than ever before, and the weird, socially-unacceptable idiosyncrasies of your friendship— or whatever it was— didn’t much bother you. 

At least, not as much as it bothered your parents, or literally anyone else. If you'd had a dollar for every time anyone asked when you'd be marrying him, you'd easily have a good chunk of change.

You couldn’t help yourself, and grabbed your phone again, but hadn’t even gotten it unlocked when a sly little voice next to you piped up.

“It's really hard to sleep with your phone in your face, I’ve heard,” Wooyoung said with a giggle. “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Oh, you hush,” you said, grabbing an unused pillow to throw at him, laughing yourself at the high pitched squawk he made when it hit him square in the face. “And no, I don’t work again until Tuesday. Like it says on the calendar on the fridge that you never read.” You stuck your tongue out at him.

“Well, I hardly think that throwing a pillow at me for stating the obvious is fair, either way,” he pouted, tossing it away and scooting closer to you, resting his head on your shoulder and throwing a leg over your legs so you were effectively trapped. He tangled an arm with the one you had lying by your side and nuzzled into your shoulder.

“So mean. To me. Your bestest and cutest and funniest and sweetest friend in the whole wide world.”

“You forgot most humble.”

“Of course, duh.”

“Well… all’s fair in love and pillow fights. Or whatever,” you huffed, regretting using the L word.

“Well in that case…” Wooyoung snickered, changing positions before you could blink twice, grabbing a pillow and whopping you in the belly with it. You shrieked, a little too loudly, and were thankful for a second you lived in a house with no shared walls. You were up at once, ready to meet his next strike with a one-two pillow punch, knocking him over onto his back. You decided to play dirty and ditched the pillows, instead going for Wooyoung’s sides. You continued to tickle him till he was wheezing, rolled over in a ball, and trying desperately to escape you. 

“Okay, okay, mercy, MERCY!” He cried out, nearly topping off the bed as you let go of him. 

You were quick to grab and haul him back in, but it didn’t seem like he was expecting as much, and your rescue resulted in you on your back, with Wooyoung lying half over you, his face inches from yours.

“Great, first you attack me while I’m trying to sleep, then you try to squish me?” You rolled your eyes. "Typical."

“Yeah. You and your Instagram feed were looking real cozy there doing all that sleeping,” Wooyoung cackled. He rolled away and let you go, and you tried not to think about how it had felt to have his warm weight pressing you into the mattress.

Truth be told, you thought about Wooyoung being with you physically a lot more than you should.

It was so cliché you could barely stand it— being in love with your roommate. But it had happened ages ago, and you had let it, at first thinking it was just a harmless crush. You knew you certainly weren’t the first person to have a crush on Wooyoung, who had had practically everyone swooning over him in college. He was funny, energetic, and charming, just to name a few.

But Wooyoung had never dated anyone in college. Not for lack of wanting to, either, he just claimed that he hadn’t found the right person yet.

Meanwhile, you still found yourself hoping on a regular basis that the “right person” would wind up being you, because in all honesty, the unrequited love was beginning to wear on you the tiniest bit.

“I’m hungry now,” Wooyoung grumbled, sitting cross legged next to you on the bed and raking a hand through his hair. He had been putting off cutting it for a while, and you hoped he would keep it long— it suited him so well. You reached over to flip on the lamp on your bedside table, laughing as Woo hissed like a cat at the sudden light.

"Hey! Was that necessary?"

“Well, if you hadn’t judged me for my doom scrolling and then started a pillow fight, you could still be asleep,” you reminded him, and he scoffed in return.

“True I guess, but I’m still hungry,” he whined, sticking out his bottom lip at you dramatically. "I'm blaming you by the way."

“So go make yourself something to eat,” you laughed. "I just went shopping yesterday."

“Nah, I have a better idea,” he said, shaking his head. He tugged you to a sitting position, and you regarded him suspiciously. 

“What could be better than eating a midnight snack and then going back to sleep?”

“Adventures,” Wooyoung said simply, almost in a reverent whisper, eyes shining in the lamp light. 

“Okay Bilbo Baggins, slow down there, it’s pushing 3 am,” you laughed. 

“No, but see, that’s just it,” Wooyoung pressed. “We used to go out and do all kinds of fun shit in the middle of the night in college. We haven’t done that in forever.”

“Yes, because we are old now.”

“Too old to go get breakfast at The Depot in the middle of the night? Please.”

The Depot was a staple in your city, a 24-hour diner adjacent to the university that was often packed, even in the wee hours. 

“It’s 3 am.”

“Come on, humor me,” Wooyoung begged, clasping his hands in front of him and shifting to kneel on the bed. “Please please please please—”

“Oh my god, okay,” you giggled. “Freaking weirdo.”

“Uh huh, and what do we call people who are friends with freaking weirdos?” Wooyoung waggled his eyebrows at you. 

“The weirdo’s friends. Obviously.”

“Whatever. Weirdo lover.”

“Shut up.”

You playfully pushed him away and got up, rifling through your drawers for something to wear. You decided on fleece lined leggings and thermals under an oversized sweatshirt, taking them to the bathroom to change. When you returned, you completed the look with one of Woo’s beanies that was sitting on your dresser. 

“Wearing my beanie?” Wooyoung gasped, and then shrugged. “Fine. I’ll wear your hoodie.”

“Oh, the one you stole four years ago and won’t give back?” You asked. "That hoodie?"

“Distinctly do not recall that event,” Woo giggled. 

“Sure. Are you driving, or am I? It’s fucking cold out,” you sighed, glancing at the weather on your watch. 

“I’ll drive,” Wooyoung told you. “Just… hang on a second. Stay here.”

You shot him a dubious look, but stayed sitting on the edge of the bed until he came back to get you. You were more than curious, having heard tinkering in the kitchen as well as the front door opening and closing twice. 

“Okay, we can go now,” Wooyoung said brightly, bouncing into the room and offering you an arm. “Let’s get this party started.”

You were glad it was Wooyoung’s car, as he’d recently gotten one with seat warmers. He navigated to The Depot, which was not near as crowded as normal for a Thursday night at this time. The two of you got a table right away, and Wooyoung grabbed a menu immediately with an excited squeaky noise that had no business being as endearing as it was.

“So… split breakfast?”

“Are you saying you want to split the bill, or that you want breakfast, or that we should do our usual?” You asked him. 

“Usual. And I’m paying.” He lowered the menu long enough to make a face at you before going back to perusing.

Your usual manner of attack at this diner was to order two or three entrees to share. This had originated as a necessity once when the two of you had been drunk and indecisive after a party, and had grown to be a time-honored tradition.

“Chocolate chip pancakes sound like a must,” Woo murmured. “No whip of course,” he added, knowing you often found the addition too sweet. “Oh, and biscuits and gravy! They have such good gravy, I dream about it once in a while.” 

“You do not.”

“Don’t judge me for my gravy dreams,” came the curt reply, and you snorted. 

“I thought I heard you two,” a voice called out from behind you, and you spun to see Emma, who almost always waited on you and Wooyoung when you came in for late night meals. “Up to no good, I’m sure,” she continued. 

“Aww, Emma,” you giggled. “Wooyoung resembles that remark tonight.”

“Am I the reason we are out of bed and at—” He started indignantly, then stopped just as quickly. “Oh. Nevermind. You’re right. I’m a troublemaker. I am the reason we're here. This is the only time I will ever admit it so you better get it on film.”

“So, chocolate chip pancakes,” she counted off. “Biscuits and gravy with extra gravy on the side. What else? Home fries?”

“Um.” Wooyoung said. He nudged your foot with his own, and you caught yourself before you jumped at the contact.

“Yes, home fries," Wooyoung affirmed. "What do you want though?” He glanced up at you.

“How about… a ham and cheese omelette,” you pondered for a second. “And the breakfast meat sampler.”

“Perfect, going in now. Sticking with water tonight?”

“Yeah, I am,” you nodded. Wooyoung echoed you, and Emma grinned, stepping away for a moment to grab a pitcher and some glasses.

“So, still not even dating or anything, hmm?” She asked, catching Wooyoung in mid-drink. You almost felt bad for laughing as he sputtered and shook his head.

“Emma, you know the answer to that,” you told her firmly.

“Uh huh, okay,” she said coyly, handing Wooyoung some extra napkins and sidling away. You helped him clean up a bit, trying to hold back more laughter. 

“God, she’s been asking us when we're getting married since she got ordained like. Summer of fucking… what, senior year?” He mumbled. “Bet she thinks she’s so funny.”

“Right? Heaven forbid two people of the opposite sex be living together and not married or dating or anything. Scandalous.”

“Did you see her shirt?” Wooyoung changed the subject quickly. 'Community wine aunt.'

“I love Emma’s shirts,” you giggled. “Remember when she made the one that said 'ask me about our specials,' and wore it almost every day for a month?” 

“Oh my god,” Wooyoung cackled. “Ed hated that one.”

“I cannot fathom how much he regrets buying her that Cricut,” you laughed. 

Ed was the owner of the diner, the head cook, and Emma’s husband. And he had never, in the 25 years that The Depot had been open, offered specials. He claimed it was because it was too much to keep up with. Either way, you still remembered the good-natured argument he and Emma had had in the middle of the restaurant, at 3am one Wednesday night, about that particular shirt. She had taken it off, thrown it at his head, and walked away in her tank top to cheers from everyone in the place. 

As far as you knew, Emma and Ed were still very happily married, and over the years, they had taken a liking to you and Wooyoung— especially considering you had remained regular patrons despite having graduated years ago. You all saw each other a lot, considering they kept weird hours too.

You wanted what they had, someday. You sighed as Emma came back, bearing a tray full of plates. She seemed to notice you pondering.

“Aww, what’s on your mind, pumpkin?”

“Nothing, just tired,” you shrugged. You pointed a finger at Wooyoung, who had his mouth open and was about to speak, and he promptly shut his trap. “Do not even, sir.”

“Okay, well, you both know where me and Ed stand on you two and whatever… yeah,” Emma muttered as she put the food down in the center of the table and handed each of you an empty plate. She topped off your waters, and walked away, mumbling something under her breath which sounded like “made for each other.”

Wooyoung, oblivious now that there was food present, was already filling his plate, and the two of you dug in, falling quiet for a bit while you stuffed your faces. 

You nearly choked as you heard someone yell behind you. 

“I ordered FRIED eggs! FRIED, GODDAMMIT!”

“Ooh, egg drama,” Wooyoung whispered. “Talk about scandalous.” 

You turned to see what appeared to be a very drunk college student, standing up next to her chair, trying to have a face-off with Emma. 

“This is not gonna go well for that girl,” you laughed. 

“Miss, you did not, and you can eat what you ordered, or you can leave,” Emma told the girl sternly. 

“But these aren’t FRIED!”

“You didn’t order them fried!”

You overheard one of her friends mutter “you ordered scrambled, dumbass,” and snorted. 

Two seconds later, Ed came tearing out of the kitchen, brandishing a large spatula. 

“Out,” he barked. “Didn’t you read the sign? Quit causing a scene and scat. Dumb drunk kids. Come back when you’re sober.”

The girl and her friends left in a hurry, and Ed chased them all the way out the door. He came back in, glancing around at everyone seated as if inviting them to question their own orders. He went back to the kitchen without another word, and you turned back to Wooyoung, who was giggling silently, tiny wheezes escaping the corners of his lips every few breaths. 

“Wow,” he finally said.

“Oh, Ed,” you laughed. “I think he needs to think about retirement.”

“You know that’s never gonna happen.”

“Oh yeah, I know.”

“What sign was he talking about?” Wooyoung asked.

“Uh, the one outside that says ‘no whiny brats,’” you told him. “Have you never noticed it before?” 

“In my defense, their porch is covered in signs,” Wooyoung shrugged. “They also have one that says ‘no farting on the porch.’”

“Right, because that’s the one you would notice.”

“Whatever, you love me,” Wooyoung shot back. “Do you want the rest of the pancakes?”

“Nah, you can have them. I’m gonna finish the omelette though.”

“Be my guest. Flip a coin for the potatoes?”

“You can have those too.”

“Aww,” Wooyoung said cutely. “You really do love me.”

You thought you might scream if he didn’t stop saying it, because it was truer than anything else you’d ever known.

Between the two of you, you polished off the rest of the food, and Wooyoung left enough money for the meal and a generous tip before waving to Emma as you headed out. 

His words echoed in your head, tumbling around with the entire weirdness that was this late night excursion. 

Whatever, you love me. Hah. I sure do, you goob. Wish I could tell you though.

Woo opened the car door for you before getting into the driver’s seat himself. But instead of turning back towards your neighborhood, Wooyoung navigated to the highway.

“Uh. What do you think you’re doing?” You asked cautiously. 

“Adventuring. Go with it.”

You were half asleep when Wooyoung stopped the car. He nudged you gently.

“Hey, dork. We’re here.”

“Huh?”

You glanced out the window, gaping at the sight. You recognized where you were— the overlook a few miles outside town. It was crazy what such a short distance did to cut down on the light pollution— the overlook was magical in itself, giving its visitors a wide view of the valley and the town. And of course, the stargazing opportunities were many. You came up here by yourself frequently, just to think. 

The stars were brilliant tonight, not a cloud in the sky, and just a sliver of moon hanging low over the sleepy town below. You glanced at your watch and saw it was pushing 5 am.

Wooyoung was already out of the car and rifling in the backseat. You got out and stretched, shivering as a cold breeze blew by. You watched as Woo constructed a pallet on the hood of his car, and clambered up, beckoning you to join him. Carefully, he bundled you up, and settled in next to you, curling up on his side and pulling you in close, his head next to yours on the pillow as the two of you gazed up at the stars together. 

“This is a good adventure,” you mumbled. “Bit chilly though.”

Wooyoung produced another blanket seemingly out of nowhere and spread it over you, then gathered you closer, pulling your head against his chest. 

“Better?”

It was better, but you supposed that was dependent on one’s definition of better— because now you could scarcely breathe— all you could hear was his heartbeat, and all you could smell was his cologne, and in that second you thought you might just go completely insane. 

“Hey,” Wooyoung shook you gently. “Are you okay? Is it too cold out? I just… I just thought this would be nice,” he trailed off. You nodded and snuggled in even closer, wrapping an arm around his waist. 

“I’m good,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his clothing. “This has been a fun night.”

“I agree. Are you comfy?”

“Yeah.”

You and Woo lapsed into silence for a while, breathing in the cold, early-morning air as you lay there in each other’s arms. 

You wondered what he was thinking, as he idly stroked your arm, before running his hand down, slipping his thumb under the wristband of your sweatshirt to rub it over your hand. 

Regardless, you simply lay there, drinking in the moment. You had told yourself a long time ago that you weren’t going to let the impossibility of you and Wooyoung stop you from enjoying these times with him.

As the first traces of daylight crept up the horizon, Wooyoung shifted slightly, and you felt his hand move, slipping over yours as he intertwined your fingers.

Before you could speak up about the fact that Wooyoung was holding your hand , and you both had talked about this , he hugged you tightly as he breathed out a contented sigh.

“I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my life,” he whispered. You wriggled out of his grip just enough to look up at him, and were startled to see that his face was very close to yours.

Much closer than it had been earlier. 

“Um. Wooyoung?” You squeaked. “You okay?”

He leaned in slowly and with obvious caution, brushing his nose against yours, and you took a deep breath that you couldn’t seem to let out. You didn't move a muscle, afraid if you did you'd scare him off.

“Please tell me I can kiss you,” he said, even quieter now, and you could feel the barest wisp of contact as he spoke so closely to your own lips. “Please…”

You decided to answer his question with action, pressing your lips to his in a deep and tender kiss, eliciting a gasp from him that you tried desperately to put out of your mind before it wandered elsewhere. 

Wooyoung whined low, his breathing already heavy as you continued to give him almost painfully slow, soft kisses. His arms snaked around you, holding you tightly to his body, and he bit at your lip experimentally, licking after to soothe. He stopped for just a second to look you in the eye, and you let out a ragged sigh. You shifted slightly, noticing just how wet you had gotten already.

Well, that’s only slightly embarrassing. Two minutes of kissing him and it's like motherfucking Niagara Falls.

It had been a while since you’d been with anyone. Like Woo, you hadn’t really dated much during or since college, for the same reasons as him.

Then again, you had been holding on to the small hope that someday, you and Wooyoung would wind up together.

Looks like I may get my wish. But… Why is he looking at me like that?!

“Wooyoung…” You started, but he put a fingertip over your lips. He had not moved his gaze from yours, and his warm brown eyes were serious but soft, looking at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered at that very moment. 

He kissed you again, and this time it was desperate, with a need pouring out of Wooyoung that you could feel at the very center of your being. He moved again, slotting his body on top of yours, and you let him, too wrapped up in the kiss to even process the rest. You reached up to fist your hands in Woo’s hair, tugging lightly, and felt your heart drop into your stomach when he growled in return. He stopped suddenly, pushing himself up on his elbows to look down at you.

“Let’s go home,” he said quietly. 

“What do you have up your sleeve now?” You gulped, and he giggled and gave you a single soft kiss. 

“An idea that requires no sleeves,” he whispered against your lips. “Or any other clothes, for that matter… if you want.”

“Mmm. Let’s go.”

You had to say, you were honestly impressed with the amount of self-control Wooyoung exhibited while driving home. He still drove carefully, albeit a bit over the speed limit. The second you had agreed to his proposition, he had flung himself off the hood of the car, and had quickly put away all of the pillows and blankets, urging you to get in, hurry up, let’s get home.

It was a struggle to get in the door, the two of you with lips locked as he fumbled for the keys, everything in the car already long forgotten. You managed to tap the button to close the garage as Wooyoung all but dragged you into the house. He yelped as the hoodie pocket got caught on the door handle, and you heard the fabric ripping. Wooyoung stopped short, slamming the door as he stared down at the damage. Then he looked up at you, a fiendish grin on his face.

“You owe me a new hoodie.”

“Bitch, that was MY hoodie!” You shrieked, wild laughter threatening to overtake you as Wooyoung stepped back to you. In no time, he had one hand on the back of your neck and an arm around your waist, kissing you again and clearly trying to guide you towards the bedroom.

The two of you managed to make it without much more damage, though Wooyoung did knock over a lamp in the living room, and you nearly fell trying to get your shoes off. The second he got you close enough to the bed, he pushed you over onto your back on the mattress, his expression now smug and satisfied.

“What’s that look for?” You asked. 

“Because I finally get to do this,” he whispered. “Fucking finally. Emphasis on fucking,” he added with a wink, and you groaned loudly, reaching for one of his arms and pulling him down with you.

"Fucking, huh?"

"If you want to," he told you. "No pressure. But if you want to..."

"Gonna show me what you can do, hmm?" You asked him, watching his face redden, but his expression remained determined.

"I promise, you won't regret it," he said with another wink and a suggestive eyebrow waggle.

He rolled onto his side to face you, pure joy radiating from him. He leaned back in to kiss you, but you put a hand up. Dutifully, he stopped what he was doing, returning to rest beside you.

“We should talk,” you said slowly. “I mean… yeah. Before anything else happens. We…”

He sighed.

“Okay.”

You couldn’t help yourself then, sputtering the first words that popped into your head.

“First of all, what do you mean, finally?”

“I mean…” He shrugged. “I mean finally . Jagiya, I’ve been in love with you since you read our freshman biology TA to filth for grading your test with the wrong key. You are feisty and headstrong and beautiful and so smart and caring and I… I just…” Wooyoung was babbling, and you could see tears forming in his eyes as he looked at you adoringly. “Why do you think I stayed? I could have gone back to Korea. I had a job waiting for me, even. But I stayed because I couldn’t bear to think of ever being without you, and I wasn’t about to ask you to uproot everything for me. And I know it’s kinda not fair, that I’m telling you all that now. But I know you, jagi. And I know that there’s no way I could ever ask you to leave your family behind like that. You need them, and they need you,” he said breathlessly. “But… I need you too,” he finished quietly. “But… All that was just a lot that I dumped on you. So... Considering that new knowledge, if you want, I’ll… I’ll…”

“Don’t you fucking dare even think that, Jung Wooyoung,” you warned, reaching out to pull him closer to you. “You’re not going anywhere, because I love you too.”

“You do?” He asked incredulously. 

“I swear to god,” you exclaimed, rolling onto your back with a sigh. “You are really so clueless for someone with such good attention to detail, did you know that?”

“I… have been told that, actually,” Wooyoung started, tapping a finger on his chin. “But—”

“No. No buts. Stop talking. Actually, come here and kiss me, that’ll make you stop talking.”

“Say no more,” he replied quickly, scooting over to you and snuggling up. He pulled the beanie off your head and tossed it off the side of the bed, running a hand through your hair to smooth it. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful…” He murmured.

“I said, less talking,” you scolded him, grabbing his hoodie and pulling him to you for a kiss. He melted into it instantly, and before long, you had turned to face him, and time had become a myth. All that mattered was this moment, and you were going to savor it for as long as possible. 

His free hand was moving now, at first with gentle caresses to your face and hair. This didn’t last long, and he moved lower, running his fingertips over your neck, giggling when you gasped and squirmed. 

Slowly, methodically, he moved his hand lower, giving teasing touches over your clothes, and you could tell he was watching you closely, clearly waiting for some sign that you might want to stop. 

“Wooyoung,” you said flatly. “Just touch me. Did we not come home for a specific reason?”

“I want it to be special,” he pouted.

“Every day with you is special, you dweeb,” you told him. “But if you don’t make good on that promise of fucking me, I might lose what’s left of my sanity.”

“So you really have nothing to lose, is what you’re saying,” Wooyoung giggled. "Got it. Knew it."

“Shush.”

He gave you a sly smile and opened his mouth to speak again, but you clamped a hand over it firmly. A split second later, you were pulling it away, Wooyoung's spit dripping from your palm. You rolled your eyes and wiped it on his now ruined hoodie, and he gasped with fake indignation. 

“Have you no respect for the dead, miss?”

“You’re weird,” you told him. 

“Where’s your vibrator?” Wooyoung shot back in return, catching you off guard as he changed the subject. 

“Why?”

“Because I want to use it on you,” he said matter-of-factly. 

“Maybe we should get naked first,” you suggested. 

“Better hang up the sign,” he laughed.

“Oh my god, do not bring that up right now!” You squealed. "Not the sign!"

Not long after you and Wooyoung had moved in together, you had accidentally caught each other masturbating— more than once, for that matter. A sock on the door handle worked for a while, mostly, but eventually Wooyoung thought it would be hysterical to make a sign to hang on the door instead— hand painted, with ‘GO AWAY, I’M MASTURBATING’ in big block letters. You hadn’t seen it in years, having shoved it in the back of a closet somewhere when your mother was visiting and it had inadvertently been left on the door. 

“You’re right,” Woo nodded, interrupting your reminiscing. “I guess we need a new one. It can say: 'Go away, we’re fucking.'”

“We don’t have any other roommates,” you reminded him. "Why do we need to advertise?"

“Oh. Right. Okay, well are you gonna tell me where the vibe is, or do I have to hunt for it?”

“It’s in the bottom left drawer—” You began, and Wooyoung was off the bed in a heartbeat, returning with the wand vibe and perching it on the bedside table. He held out a hand to you, beckoning you to stand up, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close. 

You froze for just a second as your hips pressed into his and you realized how hard he was, but he was quick to distract you as he cupped your face and kissed you gently. 

“Jagiya, can I undress you?” He asked, barely a whisper. You nodded. 

Part of you wished that you could bottle these memories for later, as Wooyoung removed your clothes in such a sensuous and breathtaking way that you thought you might scream. He was slow, methodical, as he left kisses on each new exposed bit of skin, warm hands stripping away the layers of sweats and thermals until you stood naked in front of him, and he was marveling at you, mouth falling open as he took you the sight of you in fully for the first time.

Not one to want to feel out of place, your hands were on the zipper of his hoodie in less than a second. Your movements were hurried, almost frenzied in contrast, and Woo giggled at your desperation. 

“Rest in peace, hoodie,” he mumbled as you tossed it into the pile with your own clothes, and you glared at him. You couldn’t hold it though, and you let a smile break through as you paused to kiss him. 

“Consider it karma for your thievery.”

At long last, you had every last stitch of clothing off him, and now it was your turn to ogle. Wooyoung had always been fit— years of dance classes and theatre work, in addition to his religious workout schedule. You almost couldn’t bring yourself to glance at his cock— it was thick, and clearly longing to be touched, leaking pre-cum down his thigh as he watched you quietly. 

“Come here,” he whispered. 

He gathered you into a soft embrace, and you felt pure adrenaline shoot down your spine at the feeling of his warm, soft skin against yours, your bodies pressed together firmly, his cock pressing into your leg as he lifted your chin to kiss you. 

“Mmm,” he sighed happily into the kiss, hugging you tighter as he guided you back towards the bed. You climbed in first, and he followed, settling into the middle of the mattress and curling up with you while his hands continued to explore every inch of your skin. You whined loudly as his hand crept towards your center, and you closed your eyes as you felt his hand push your legs apart. 

You were still not prepared by the time he touched you, softly trailing his fingers through your soaked folds and muttering curse words under his breath. You kept your eyes shut as his hand probed slightly higher, and as he brushed your swollen clit, you hissed in surprise, arching your back and grabbing his arm.

“Too much?” He asked. 

“Just sensitive,” you tried to get out. “Like, extremely sensitive. Been a while.”

“Good, I think I can work with that,” he snickered. 

“You’re evil, Jung Wooyoung.”

“Ah-hah, but you love me though,” he said in singsong, with a quick peck on your cheek. 

As his lips left your skin, he suddenly plunged a finger into your aching cunt, and you cried out in surprise. He added a second quickly, shushing and soothing you, giving you gentle kisses as he began to finger-fuck you at such an excruciatingly slow pace that you considered strangling him with the ripped hoodie as penance. 

“Faster,” you whined. “Oh, please, Wooyoung, faster…” 

You were fully laid out on your back now, and Wooyoung was lying on his side next to you. One hand propped up his head, long hair falling in his eyes as he watched you writhing, a shit-eating grin plastered on his face as he continued his ministrations.

“But we already had been taking our time,” he cooed. “So what if I want to take my time with you now?”

“Can’t we do that later?” You begged, as he teased at adding a third finger. “Woo, come on, plea— OH FUCK!” 

His next thrust included that third finger, and you were already seeing stars, your release building low in your belly and growing much faster than it had any business doing. Wooyoung picked up the pace just a bit, whispering to you softly as he continued to watch your face.

“So good for me, jagiya… mmm… this lovely, tight little cunt… and I get to have it all to myself now,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to feel you squeezing around my cock… clenching tight while you take all of my cum. Will you do that for me, hmm? Let me fill you up?”

You had not been expecting the dirty talk, even knowing Wooyoung as you did, and it only served to spur you on further. You scrabbled for purchase on the sheets as the coil in your center wound tighter, threatening to break at any second— and when it finally did, colors flashing in your vision that you swore you’d never seen before, Wooyoung continued on through it, prolonging your pleasure until you were overstimulated and coming again. The second orgasm was somehow stronger than the first, and your entire body shuddered as you rode out the aftershocks. Only then did Woo relent, and you rolled to face him, slumping into his chest. 

“Ornery,” you whined. “So ornery… fuck… you…” You were gasping for breath, chest heaving as you tried to clear your head. 

Meanwhile, Wooyoung was sucking his fingers clean in such a lewd way that you thought your heart was going to stop from the sight. In a flash, he was between your legs, pushing you back onto your back and spreading them wide, opening you up to him fully. 

“Woo,” you whimpered. “Please.”

“Huh?” He sat up, appearing concerned now.” 

“Need you,” you whined.

“Ah. Well, what’s that thing you always tell me?” He settled back between your legs, kissing a trail up your thigh. “Oh yeah, I remember.” He licked a firm stripe up your center, curling his tongue around your clit and then giving it a small flick, and you shrieked in surprise.

“Patience is a virtue,” Wooyoung said with a smug tone, as he buried his face in your core, nimble tongue lapping at your folds, flicking at your clit. You cursed loudly, and he giggled, nose nudging your clit as he pushed further in, fucking you on his tongue as you grasped for his hair. 

Pulling it only seemed to encourage him, so you decided to go with it, one hand planted firmly on his head, pushing his face deeper into your soaked cunt. You felt a tickle as he brought one hand up to push two fingers inside you, curling them as he moved to circle your clit with his tongue.

“Thought… vibrator…” Was all you could get out in your fucked-out state, and he laughed.

“I like this better,” he told you, voice muffled against your cunt. “Now… isn’t it time you came for me again?” 

You weren’t sure if you were extra suggestible because of the morning’s events, or because it was finally Wooyoung between your legs, but you came again, astonishingly hard, soaking his face in the process.

“Hmm,” he sighed happily as he began to clean up the mess with his tongue. “Fuck. I’m not gonna lie, I was hoping I could make you squirt.”

“What about that is so hot?”

“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Just is. Trust me.”

Wooyoung stopped once you were nearing overstimulation for a second time, and crawled back up the bed to lie down next to you. He leaned in to kiss you, and you tasted yourself on his lips and tongue, drank him in like he was a fine wine and this was your last meal. He kissed you so tenderly, one arm protectively encircling you and holding you close, and for just a moment you wondered if all of this was an elaborate dream. 

“Woo?” You whispered.

“Yeah, baby?” He asked, kissing your forehead softly.

“Is this real?”

You yelped as he pinched your ass firmly, pushing him away as you cackled. He did not move, but you could see his shoulders trembling as he tried to resist laughing. 

“Does it feel real?” He giggled, and you scooted back over to him, swatting him in the arm.

“You’re a menace,” you told him. You saw the vibrator still on the bedside table, and looked back to Wooyoung, raising an eyebrow. “Were you still gonna use that?” 

“Oh, maybe,” he shrugged. “Not right now though,” he added. "I'm supposed to be fucking you, apparently. Made a promise or whatever."

"I swear to god, Wooyoung."

His lips were on yours again now, and he was back on top of you in no time at all, cock nudging at your entrance. You reached down, helping him find the right angle, then lay back, almost melting into the bed as he pushed inside you— inch by glorious inch, stretching you full and then some. As he bottomed out, he hunched over you, teeth grazing your shoulder, kissing your neck with a renewed fervor as he began to thrust. 

He moved slowly at first, allowing you plenty of time to grow used to him, before increasing the pace bit by bit, burying his face in your shoulder now and seemingly desperate to be as close to you as he could while he fucked you clear into insanity. 

He changed angles suddenly, and you whined as the head of his cock hit you just right. 

“Woo…”

“Hm.”

“Right… there…” You whispered. “Don’t…”

“Not gonna stop,” he raised his head up to look at you, a dopey, fucked-out smile on his face. “Not gonna… oh god…” 

His strokes were growing messier, and you were bucking your hips into his as he kept hitting you at the exact speed and spot you needed. His whines grew louder, and you could feel his cock twitching inside you. 

He kissed you suddenly, plunging his tongue into your mouth, hot and desperate and full of overwhelming passion, as you felt his cock pulsing, emptying deep inside you. He slumped against you, and you sighed internally, having been close again, but the feeling faded fast as he stopped. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, pulling out quickly as he realized what had happened. Before you knew it, he had the vibrator on your clit, three fingers inside you and was thrusting fast and hard. You were over the edge in less than a minute, and to your immense relief, he did not tease you this time. He set the toy back down, crawling back once more to rest next to you and pulling you close. 

“You didn’t have to—” You began, but he cut you off.

“Yes I did. And I wanted to. So there,” he said sleepily, sticking out his tongue at you. "I knew you were close."

“Woo,” you mumbled after a few moments of silence, both of you still working to calm your breathing. 

“Hmm.”

“I… That… It was... Wow."

“Yeah,” he agreed, giggling at your inability to compose your thought through your post-orgasm haze.

 A few minutes later, you were feeling much more confident about the use of your legs, and sat up carefully, dragging Wooyoung with you. 

“No,” he whined. “Sleep time.”

“No,” you said. “Shower. And you have to go pee.”

“Don’t make fun of me for that again, that was freshman year,” he grumbled. "I learned my lesson."

“I’ll make fun of you later about something else then,” you promised. “How’s that?”

“Perfect,” he said, still clearly a little dopey. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

It took some real effort in the end, but you finally coaxed Wooyoung into a hot shower. The experience was somehow more intimate than the one you’d just shared in bed, as the two of you washed each other’s hair and scrubbed each other’s backs. Neither of you could stop smiling, and every time you made eye contact, you both burst into giggles. 

“God, we’re gonna be insufferable,” Woo laughed as you both settled in on the couch for a movie and a nap. “Who should we tell first?”

“Let’s just… exist first,” you told him, moving to lay with your head on his chest. He kissed your forehead in return, pulling the blankets up further around you. 

“Mmm. I like this existence. We should keep it up for a while.”

“Long while,” you agreed. 

“Maybe forever, if you wanted,” Woo whispered.

You heard him, though you were too far gone to respond, the long night and exhilarating morning catching up to you all at once, You drifted to sleep, safe in Wooyoung’s arms, dreams of your future playing in your head. 

He was right. 

Tags: strangers to lovers, first dates, pole dancing, your best friend is a meddler but you can thank her later, flirting, making out, laughter during sex, teasing, vaginal fingering, face-sitting, vaginal sex, cuddling & snuggling falling in love, body positivity, plus size reader implied, praise, body worship, alternate universe (non idol)

“Lainey…” You whined as your best friend pulled into a parking spot outside an upscale dance studio. “Are you sure about this? I’m not really… pole dancing material,” you sighed, gesturing at yourself. “And this… outfit? On me? In public?”

“Look girl, I love you, but kindly, shut up. You’re hot as hell no matter what you think, you’re gonna have fun, pole is for everyone, and the instructor is awesome. Period."

“Yeah, and you haven’t told me anything else about them,” you grumbled. 

You had good-naturedly agreed to accompany your friend to this class, knowing full well it wasn’t really your thing, but you needed out of the house, and the gods knew you probably could do with some physical activity that was not manual labor around your house. You were quite sick of that neverending cycle.

Lainey pulled the studio door open, ushering you inside, and your jaw dropped as you took in the sight. It was a large studio, with students of various heights and builds walking around, warming up. Everyone was dressed similarly to you— in some variation of short shorts and a tank or crop top. Some girls just had on a sports bra for a top. Lainey had explained the reasoning for the outfits, but you still felt out of place. You had always been one to cover your body, not show it off.

After all, that's what society always wanted from you.

“Lainey!” A cheerful voice rang out, and the man who had called out her name all but bounded over to say hi. He was tall, with shoulder length, shiny black hair pulled up in a half ponytail. You could tell that he’d already been at it from the sheen of sweat on his honey skin. He was perhaps the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and suddenly you forgot how to speak, much less form a coherent thought.

“Oh, hey Seonghwa!” Lainey nudged you with her elbow. “This is the friend I told you about.”

“Pleased to meet you,” he turned to you, taking your hand and kissing your knuckles ever so softly. “I’m Seonghwa.” 

You managed to stammer your own name amid your brain attempting to short circuit over the ethereal man standing in front of you. He was still staring, and you gulped and looked away, at which point he seemed to realize what was happening, and you looked back in time to see a pink flush rising on his cheeks. 

“Come on,” Lainey grabbed your wrist and led you to a couple poles next to each other in the corner. “He’ll probably get started in a second.”

“Good morning everyone,” Seonghwa called out as he took a spot at the front, next to his own pole. You couldn’t tear your eyes off him— he was unearthly in his own right, but the short shorts and cropped tank didn’t do anything to make you turn your eyes away. He had a dancer’s body through and through— solid muscle, yet he looked so angelic that you half expected him to sprout wings and float away at a moment’s notice.

“Glad to see some new faces today,” he winked, and your heart dropped into your stomach when you realized he was looking directly at you . “Let’s start with our simple warmup, and then we’ll do some exercises as a class. I’ve got all the poles locked for now, but feel free to change that up if you feel you need to. Just let’s all be safe today and have fun.”

“Lainey…” You groaned. 

“Shut up,” she said cheerily. “Look. Just do what I’m doing.”

You watched your friend as she did a few easy-looking moves to stretch and warm up, and you tried to mirror her, but that didn’t change the fact that you felt so out of place it wasn’t funny. 

Your self-consciousness heightened once the class really got going. After a while though, you found yourself able to relax a little more, as long as you tried to pretend that Seonghwa did not exist. 

Your plans were thwarted when you tried to do a dip spin and promptly fell on your ass. 

“Uh oh…” Seonghwa said, hurrying over to you. He held out a hand, and helped you to your feet. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Here, can I help? This one can kinda throw you off the first time, trust me. I fell on my ass too and my friends never let me live it down.”

“That’s fine,” you said, unsure what you were agreeing to.

“Are you okay with… uh. Human contact?” Seonghwa asked. “Okay wow, that sounded stupid. I just. I want to help, but…”

“It’s fine, do whatever you need to,” you giggled. Something about seeing him flustered made you feel a little more confident.

Carefully, Seonghwa let you through the movements, his hands gentle and respectful as he guided you. By the end of the class, you were feeling much better about the whole thing, and you thanked him profusely.

“So you had fun then?” He asked, handing you a towel as he wiped sweat from his own brow.

“Way more than I expected,” you confessed. “I’m not really built for…”

“Pole is for everyone,” he interjected. “And you are beautiful no matter how you’re built. So you’re gonna have to learn to deal with that, I guess.” He shrugged and winked at you.

You blinked, not having expected such a pointed call out from a stranger.

“Yeah, see, I’ve been telling her that for ages,” Lainey said, looping an arm through yours. “Someday she might admit she’s hot.”

Seonghwa glanced at you again. 

“Yep. You need to admit it,” he said smoothly.

“Same time next week, Seonghwa?” Lainey asked.

“For sure, I’ll be here,” he said happily. “I hope you will too,” he told you in a quieter tone. 

There they were again, those fucking butterflies. You’d told yourself you were done trying to date. It was too complicated and people just… sucked. And not in a fun way. 

But you found yourself agreeing anyway.

“See you next week!” Seonghwa bade you farewell with a huge smile, and you couldn’t help but grin back.

“So…” Lainey said through a bite of eggs and bacon. “Seems like you had way more fun than you thought you would, miss missy.” 

“My turn to tell you to shut up,” you rolled your eyes as you flagged down the waitress for a refill on water. Lainey had insisted on post-class brunch at a local spot, which you had a feeling was partly because she was hungry but mostly because she wanted to tease you. 

“Seonghwa couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

“Yeah, maybe he needs them checked,” you shot back. 

“Whatever, he thinks you’re hot,” Lainey said matter-of-factly. “He said it himself. So are you going next week? Hwa said he’s gonna show us the performance he’s been working on first thing.”

“A… performance,” you stuttered. “Like a whole routine.”

“Yep,” she nodded. “He’s so talented. He competes regularly and he's good. You’ll love it. He’s been sharing bits as he develops it and the final thing is gonna be smoking. The performance is at the end of the month.”

“Mmmhmm. Okay Lainey.”

He’s talented all right. How the hell am I gonna survive this?

The following week, you drove yourself to the studio, as Lainey told you she was running late. Your jaw dropped when you walked in— Seonghwa was there, of course, looking even more ethereal than normal. His hair was different— somehow in a single week’s time he had gone from black to platinum, and your heartbeat quickened as he approached you. 

“Hey,” he said warmly. “Glad to see you back.” 

“Um, yeah, you too,” you muttered lamely, immediately mentally kicking yourself at how dumb you thought you must sound. 

“Is Lainey coming?” He asked. 

“I dunno,” you shrugged. “She said she was running late.”

Just then, your phone buzzed. 

Lainey [9:56am]: Girl I’m not gonna make it, my check engine light is on. I’m sorry!! Tell Hwa I’ll be there next week.

You [9:56am]: Okay, sorry you won’t be here! Uh. Seonghwa’s hair is… Um. It's platinum. He looks SO good. Like. It’s a PROBLEM. I need you here, can’t you Uber??

Lainey [9:57am]: Great, ask him out already, dummy. I know you have a crush. And no. I’m broke as shit. I’m gonna have to call my dad… ugh.

“Lainey had car trouble,” you said, slipping your phone into your bag. “She said she’ll be here next week though!”

“Dang. Well I’m glad you’re here,” Seonghwa told you, “I was hoping I’d see you again soon.”

You pretended he hadn’t put emphasis on “you’re” and busied yourself with finding a pole that wasn’t occupied and taking time to do your warmup exercises. 

You were sure the universe was laughing at you, because the pole you’d chosen was at the very front of the classroom, where Seonghwa had a perfect view of you.

After he had given everyone time to warm up, he turned the lights down a bit and took his place at the front of the classroom. He nodded to someone in the front row, who walked over to the stereo and tinkered for a few, before flipping on an upbeat tune you’d never heard before. 

“No one laugh if I fall,” Seonghwa giggled. “It’s still a work in progress here.” 

You watched, mesmerized, as Seonghwa worked the pole. He had worn his hair half up again today, and in addition to the short black shorts and crop tank, he was wearing iridescent, platform heeled boots. The entire look on its own was having more of an impact on you than you wanted to admit. Watching him was insane— it was as if he was one with the pole as he slipped fluidly through each motion, like they were moves he’d been born to do. It was clear he’d been polishing this routine for a while, and you kept having to remind yourself to keep your mouth shut every time your jaw dropped open in awe.

You told yourself it was your imagination that he kept making eye contact with you throughout. 

When he was finished, the studio erupted with thunderous applause. You joined in, painfully aware of just how very wet you had gotten while watching Seonghwa dance. 

Oh. Oh no. Oh fuck. This is bad.

You considered a few different excuses so you could leave: starting your period, family emergency, impending apocalypse. 

Too fucking bad I can’t use Lainey as an excuse. Bitch would see right through me.

Lainey had been teasing you nonstop about Seonghwa since the first class, even had offered to set the two of you up for a date.

Hey. Wait a second. What if… What if this IS a set up? No. She wouldn’t. But what if?!?!?! What if she did?!

You snuck off to the bathroom, whipping out your phone and texting Lainey.

You [10:20am]: AHEM!! DID YOU BAIL ON ME ON PURPOSE???

Lainey [10:21am]: Maaaybe. Tell Seonghwa I said hi. He’s single by the way, pretty sure I told you.

You [10:21am]: LIKE SEVENTEEN TIMES YES

Lainey [10:21am]: Please. The chemistry is there. Go with it. Isn’t his routine hot as fuck? LORD. And with that new hair color— he showed me yesterday! And he likes you!!

You [10:22am]: I’m going to punch you in the butt.

Lainey [10:22am]: Ok well go touch Seonghwa’s first. It's cute.

You [10:23am]: LAINEY!!

Lainey [10:23am]: No for real, I bet he’d like it. Did I mention he likes you?

You [10:24am]: Okay, you meddling meddler.

Against your better judgement, you decided to go home, making up some lame excuse about how you had a headache. Seonghwa seemed disappointed, which immediately made you feel terrible. You wound up giving him your phone number without a second thought, however, which quickly replaced the saddened look with one of joy. 

“Awesome. Maybe we can get coffee sometime outside class,” he said enthusiastically, as he entered your number and messaged you to make sure you had his. 

“Sure,” you nodded, trying to ignore the insane amount of butterflies in your stomach. Again.

“Hope you feel better soon,” he told you, giving you a quick, somewhat awkward hug. "Let me know if you need anything."

You left the studio after bidding Seonghwa goodbye, and made a beeline for Lainey’s apartment. She looked completely unsurprised to see you there, as she lay on the couch flipping through Netflix. 

“Car trouble, huh?”

“Yep. Bad. Horrible. It almost exploded. They said it was a wonder I got it into the shop in time.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your car. It’s parked outside.”

“Not so… I am way overdue for an oil change,” she said slyly. “So how’s Seonghwa?” 

You dropped onto the couch next to your friend with a sigh. 

“He’s too much. Hello, Lainey, have you seen him? He’s way out of my league.”

“The fuck he is not. And he thinks you’re really cool, for what it’s worth.”

“How do you know that?”

Lainey wiggled her phone in the air, and your eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

“Have… have you guys been talking about me?!” You sputtered. 

“Just a little,” she giggled. “Okay well maybe more than that. He likes you. He told me so. I wasn’t just talking shit. He thinks you’re funny, and pretty, and…”

“Has he seen me?”

“Yes, and as a matter of fact, he’s already had his hands all over you, last week.”

“SHUT UP!”

“Maybe he wants to have his hands on you more.”

“He did ask me if I wanted to go get coffee,” you mumbled. “And we exchanged phone numbers…” You hid your face, fully aware that you were flushing red.

“Oh really,” Lainey said, taking a sip of her coffee. “So when’s the date?”

“Shut up, no one said anything about a date. He mentioned coffee.”

“People go on dates to get coffee, bestie. In case you were unaware.”

“Mmhmm. Shut up.”

The next day, you woke up to a text from Seonghwa, which surprised you just a tiny bit, despite Lainey’s insistence that he liked you. 

Seonghwa [10:15am]: Morning! :) 

You [10:15am]: Hey! How are you doing?

Seonghwa [10:16am]: Oh, you know. Mondays. I have an advanced pole class at 11 and a beginner class at 3, otherwise nothing. You?

You [10:16am]: I hear you. Work, aka gentle parenting other adults. Sorry I had to leave yesterday. 

Seonghwa [10:17am]: So, could I ask you something?

You took a deep breath, feeling like you knew what was coming.

You [10:18am]: Sure.

Seonghwa [10:18am]: I didn’t… offend you in some way… I hope. Did I? 

You sighed heavily. Of course that’s what he would think after you left in a hurry.

You [10:18am]: Oh, god no! No, I just wasn’t feeling great. I’m really sorry. You haven’t done anything wrong, I promise. Pinky swear, even.

Seonghwa [10:19am]: Okay, thank god. I was a little worried that maybe I’d done something… because honestly, I think you’re really cool, and I was wondering…

You watched the bubble pop up again as he typed more, your stomach twisting in knots. 

Seonghwa [10:20am]: Maybe we could go to dinner this Friday? I know I said coffee, but… like I said. You’re a really cool person and I’d like to take you out, if that’s okay with you.

You [10:20am]: Pardon my like. Dumbass middle school brained self. But do you mean… like… a date?

Seonghwa [10:21am]: Yep. 100% a date. Is that okay?

You steeled yourself and tapped out one more word, and hit send. 

You [10:21am]: Absolutely.

Seonghwa [10:22am]: Awesome! Okay. What do you like to eat?

You [10:23am]: Hmm. Food.

Seonghwa [10:23am]: HELPFUL. :p There’s this new pan-Asian place downtown that’s pretty good, and they should have some veg options for you. 

Lainey! God. What else did she tell him?!

You [10:24am]: Only if we go dutch, I heard that place is expensive

Seonghwa [10:24am]: So. Not that?

You [10:25am]: You don’t have to pay!!

Seonghwa [10:25am]: I know. But I’d like to, if you’re okay with that.

Seonghwa [10:26am]: Lainey told me you were stubborn. :) 

You [10:27am]: She fucking would

You were giggling at this point at the absurdity of it all. Lainey was feisty, sure, but she had never gone this far to mess with something like your love life. 

But… it had been a while since you’d been on a date. And Lainey had known you for a very long time, and you knew she would never do something like this to be mean. If she had confidence in your chances, you knew you should go for it.

And Seonghwa was nice. Lainey had filled you in on a surprising amount of details about him, to the point where you wondered if she was doing the same for Seonghwa. Either way, it looked like you were now going to get dinner with him on Friday night. 

Seonghwa [10:29am]: Hey, are you still there? I could meet you in front of the pole studio, if you want. That restaurant is only a few blocks away. 6pm? Is that too early? 

You [10:30am]: That sounds awesome. 6 is fine. I’ll see you then!

Seonghwa [10:30am]: Yay!! :) 

You took a deep breath before tapping out a text to Lainey. 

You [10:32am]: Lainey, I take back the butt punch; I am going to murder you in the face.

Lainey [10:33am]: Uh huh. So when’s the date? 

By Friday, you were a bundle of nerves, having just barely made it through the week. Seonghwa had been texting you every day, and both of you had been flirting up a storm, which somehow made you more nervous, because what if it was all an act?

But then again, what if it’s not, and this super nice, nerdy, funny, incredibly pretty man actually really likes me?

Lainey let herself into your apartment on Friday afternoon, just as you were finishing up with work, and handed you a brown paper shopping bag, inside which was a deep green dress, and a black lacy bodysuit. They were the same pieces you’d been eyeing for weeks but hadn’t wanted to buy, since you were trying to save up for a down payment on a house.

“Lainey,” you started, staring daggers at her as you held the dress. “Like. Full offense... Are you insane?”

“Jury’s out,” she replied with a shrug. “Please, just go with it. You looked so good in that dress when you tried it on. You needed to own it.”

“But…”

“No.”

“The bodysuit? Really?”

“Please, like we haven’t bought matching underwear like half the time we’ve ever been shopping, since high school?”

“Right, I just think you’re going overboa—”

“You are not wearing your boring old skin tone colored Spanx. That is not happening tonight. You are my best friend, and Seonghwa is a good friend, and both of you deserve better than that ratty old piece of shapewear you've had since college.”

You chose to ignore where Lainey was going with that and tried to change pace.

“But the money—”

“No ma’am! I just got a huge bonus at work. You are not winning this argument, bitch. Now go get ready.”

“You’re worse than my mom, I hope you know,” you told her with an eye roll. 

“Fully aware.” Lainey laughed. “But you love me, so. There’s that.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Plus, your mom wouldn’t be caught dead purchasing a sexy bodysuit.”

“Did not need any sort of imagery like that, thank you!” You bellowed as you shut the bathroom door. You could hear Lainey giggling wildly.

You showered quickly, and debated for a second whether to actually wear the bodysuit. It would probably be more comfortable than anything else, but you weren’t always the biggest fan of sex on the first date, as a general rule— you found it often led people to treat you poorly afterwards, because they’d already gotten all they wanted from you. And you didn’t want to seem presumptuous. Especially not with Seonghwa.

And for him, you felt like you might make an exception, if for no other reason than he was the most attractive person you’d ever gone out with, and if his skill on the pole was any indicator... 

“Can’t fucking believe I’m doing this,” you muttered as you pulled on the lingerie. You slipped the dress on, admiring the way it hugged your curves. It was simply cut, soft fabric with a geometric pattern. It fell to your knees, which you supposed would be fine. On the other hand, it showed a fair amount of cleavage, and you hoped it wouldn't be too much for a first date. You threw on some quick makeup and did your hair, and emerged from the bathroom to find that Lainey was still sitting on your couch.

“Oh, Seonghwa is gonna lose it when he sees you,” Lainey said enthusiastically. “See, I told you, you needed this dress.” 

“Okay, you win,” you giggled as you stepped into a pair of black flats. “I gotta go, I’m supposed to meet him at 6.”

“Have fun ,” Lainey said, handing you your purse and waggling her eyebrows suggestively. 

“You suck,” you told her, hurrying away before she could make a lewd comment.

Seonghwa was waiting for you outside the studio, wearing dark jeans and a crisp white button down, which contrasted incredibly with his skin tone. He had clearly been experimenting with his hair, and tonight he was wearing it down, in soft curls that framed his face. His beauty made your heart skip several beats, and you considered backing out, unsure again if you were in over your head.

While you were thinking, Seonghwa noticed you, turning and walking over to meet you.

“Hey,” he said warmly. “Great to see you… you look so pretty,” he breathed. “I mean… I… Just…”

“Thank you,” you told him, feeling the flush rising on your cheeks as you watched him stumble over his words, his own face bright pink.

He offered an arm to you.

“Shall we?”

“Sure,” you nodded, looping your arm through his. It was a little surreal to be this close to him again, and it somehow felt more intimate than it had a few weeks ago, when he’d had his hands on your waist in class.

The restaurant was far more upscale than you expected, and you gulped, telling yourself you wouldn’t look at the prices. Seonghwa didn’t seem worried as he gave the hostess his name for the reservation, and you felt him lean into you gently. 

“You okay?”

“Yes,” you nodded. 

“Fancy place,” he whispered.

“Yep,” you said.

“Too fancy,” he sighed. “I have an idea.”

When the hostess came back, Seonghwa apologized, telling her something had suddenly come up and the two of you needed to leave. He led you back outside, with one arm around your shoulders. Once you were far enough away from the door, he let you go and turned to face you.

“Okay. That was just too much. I’m sorry.”

“It did feel a little off for a first date,” you laughed. “It was a good idea though.”

“The pictures on the website didn’t really show it off that way,” he sighed. “Okay. Plan B. Do you eat pizza?”

“I absolutely eat pizza,” you nodded enthusiastically. “And the more cheese the better. In which case, we should go to that little hole in the wall place a few doors down from your studio.”

“Oh, you know what, I’ve never actually been there.”

“You’re missing out,” you told him. “Sal’s garlic knots are the best in town and that’s a hill I will die on,” you said indignantly, and Seonghwa wrinkled his nose as he giggled at you. “You could ask Lainey,” you added, and Seonghwa snorted.

“You’re not mad about us talking about you, I hope,” he said hurriedly.

“No, I think it’s cute,” you assured him. 

“I think you’re cute,” he said smoothly, slipping a hand into yours as the two of you began to walk back towards the pizza place. 

Oh, heaven help me.

Seonghwa gave you free rein on ordering for the two of you, so you ordered one of your favorite pizzas on the menu, as well as garlic knots, and a chocolate orange mousse to split for dessert. You had waffled for a second on the mousse, but decided to go for it. 

“Just one dessert, huh?” Seonghwa teased you as the two of you picked a booth and slid into your seats.

“I’m doing you a favor,” you told him. “Let’s just say I found out the hard way how it feels when you eat an entire one of these on your own. It was not as pleasant as I envisioned.”

“Ah, I see,” he said with a wink. “Protecting me. Cute.”

“You could say that,” you countered, trying not to let him know his flirting was having as much of an effect as it was. “You know. Chivalry and all that.”

“Ah, yes. Chivalry,” Seonghwa giggled. “Makes sense.”

The waiter saved you, bringing your drinks and garlic knots. Seonghwa dipped one gingerly into the marinara and took a bite, and you watched with satisfaction as he groaned at the combination of flavors.

“Okay, you were right, and I have to confess, I was secretly doubting you…” he mumbled through the tail end of the bite. “But…”

“I told you so,” you said smugly, grinning at him. “Uh. You have a little bit of sauce...” You pointed to the corner of your own lip. 

“Sorry again about the other place,” he sighed. “I kinda… Well, I wanted to impress you a bit. But also that place just seemed too stuffy for a first date, and I could tell you were feeling the same way.” 

“It kinda was,” you agreed. “I like this better.”

“Me too. It’s more… real? If that makes sense.”

“Yeah, I get it,” you agreed.  

You and Seonghwa joked and laughed through dinner, trading amusing stories, and it was comforting to you how talking to him felt like talking to an old friend you’d known for years. He just had that kind of warm personality that put people at ease— you’d seen it before in the studio when he had been helping you. But here it was a little different, again, more intimate. Seonghwa seemed softer, more vulnerable. 

Which was probably good, because you were feeling doubly so.

“Well,” he finally said, putting down a pizza crust and looking at the aftermath the two of you had wrought on dinner. “I think I might be too full for dessert.”

“Conveniently, all their desserts are packaged to go,” you told Seonghwa, holding up a bag with the mousse and two plastic spoons inside.

“Ah, smart, They know what they’re doing.”

“Mmhmm.”

“So,” Seonghwa said. “Do you… maybe wanna come back to the studio and hang out a bit?”

You wondered if you were imagining the sudden waver in his voice. 

“Oh, won’t we get in trouble?”

“No. I own the studio and the apartment space above it. It’s all mine.” He grinned at you, and you couldn’t help but smile back. “Only if you want. I don’t want to pressure you into anything you aren’t comfortable with.”

“No, that sounds fun,” you nodded. “Maybe we could just hang out and listen to some music or something for a bit while we digest.” 

“Sure! I actually have been working on installing a new light system, if you were interested in seeing that,” Seonghwa told you.

“Ooh, like flashy lights for performances?”

“Yeah!” 

“Okay, let’s go,” you said, grinning at him. 

He took your hand again as you walked to the studio, and again you tried to remain calm. You weren’t sure what the rest of the evening held, but you were buzzing with nervous excitement.

Seonghwa flipped on some music after he locked the studio doors and made sure that everything was secure. You watched as he went over to a closet in the corner and pulled out some thick yoga mats, spreading them on the floor at the front of the room. Next, he went over to a control panel, tinkering for a few minutes with knobs and dials, and suddenly, the two of you had your own personal light show. He let it run for just a few moments before turning it off and crossing the room back to you.

“It’s still a work in progress,” he sighed. “But once it’s done I’ll have a better performance space here. I could even host competitions once I get a stage up."

"Wow, a stage would be awesome," you nodded. "Was this place always a pole studio?"

"Nope. When I bought it three years ago, it was just an empty dusty space, but I have big dreams for it."

"Looks like you're well on your way," you told him with a wide smile.

You took a seat on one of the yoga mats, pulling out dessert, and two water bottles you'd bought on the way out of the restaurant.

“How can you eat again already?” Seonghwa wailed. “I’m so full.”

“So lay down and rest a bit, silly,” you laughed. “I just want a little taste.”

“Hmm.” He pursed his lips. “A taste, huh?”

Oh god. Why did I say it like that? Why did he…? Fuck.

Seonghwa took a spoon from you and daintily took a tiny bit of the chocolate mousse. The first bite didn’t last long, and you found yourself stuck, watching him devour his half of the dessert, his long tongue flicking out of his mouth to lick the spoon clean after. You tried your best to pretend that this did not affect you, as you ate your own share, but there was a burning in the pit of your belly now that you could not seem to squash.

“Too bad it’s not socially acceptable to lick the bowl,” Seonghwa laughed. 

“I mean… we aren’t in public,” you pointed out, and he snorted. He looked up at you, a soft smile on his face, and you thought you might melt. 

“Oh.” He said quietly, moving closer to you. “You have a bit…” He reached out slowly, thumb brushing the corner of your lips, where it seemed an errant bit of whipped cream had taken up residence. You handed Seonghwa a wet wipe from your purse as you struggled to catch your breath, but he hadn’t moved. If anything, he’d scooted closer, opening the wipe and dabbing it carefully where the whipped cream had been before cleaning his own hand.

“So, when do you have to have that performance ready?” You asked. “Isn’t the competition coming up?”

“Oh lord,” he sighed. “Yeah. I actually was thinking of changing some things up.”

“Oh?” You raised an eyebrow. “How come?”

“I just… I put a lot of thought into everything I do,” he explained. “And I’m a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to my dancing. I filmed myself the other day and caught some things that I didn't think were very good, so..."

“Seonghwa…” You started.

“Hwa,” he said.

“Huh?”

“You can call me Hwa,” he said with a small smile. “If you want. What were you going to say? I interrupted you, I’m sorry.”

“No, I was just saying, you’re so good at what you do already.” 

“Thank you,” he told you warmly. “That means a lot to me.” He bit his lip for a second, then shook his head.

“What?” You asked, curious as to what was going on in his head.

“Did… no. Nevermind.”

“Did I want to see the changes?” You said, and knew you’d hit the nail on the head. You wondered why he was suddenly shy.

“Well… yeah. But you’re kind of a captive audience, and I don’t wanna bore you or be a show off or—”

“Hwa, it’s fine, stop overthinking. If you wanna show me, that’s cool. If not, I can wait till the next time you show the class.” 

“Okay,” he said. “Well, I can’t dance in this outfit. Uh… will you wait here? I’ll be right back.”  

“Sure,” you nodded. 

“Feel free to take your shoes off or whatever, get comfortable,” he told you. “There’s some blankets and pillow rolls in the closet, everything is freshly laundered. I have a friend who does yoga classes here every Thursday morning, and she doesn’t care if I use her stuff sometimes.”

You busied yourself with building a small nest on the floor while Hwa was upstairs changing. He came back down with his hair half up again, short black shorts, and a crop top that had clearly been a full t-shirt at some point, bearing faded Animal Crossing characters on it. 

“Pardon me for not being fully dressed up,” he giggled. “Definitely can’t dance pole in jeans, but those boots are a chore to get in and out of. The new ones I just got in are especially insane.”

You weren’t sure where your filter had gone in those two seconds, but you heard yourself say the words before the rational part of your brain could stop you:

“Oh, did you need help with them?” You blurted out. 

Seonghwa fixed you with an unintelligible stare, and you took a deep breath. 

“Sorry,” you said hurriedly. “That was overstepping.”

“Not at all,” Hwa shrugged. “I just was… trying to make sure you were serious… I guess.” He laughed, and you picked up on the nervousness. “It’s not every day you meet a girl who will help you put on your stripper boots,” he giggled.

But all the same, he traipsed back upstairs, and returned with an impressive pair of boots. These were red patent leather, similar to the ones he’d worn in class before— platform heeled boots that would not be out of place on a strip club stage. These were thigh high, and had some decorative straps and buckles that added to the bombshell vibe Seonghwa already gave off in waves.

“I just got these and I need to break them in a bit. You’re sure you’re cool with this?”

“It’s just boots,” you shrugged. “They do look complicated. How did you ever try them on to begin with?”

“Well,” Hwa said sheepishly. “I kinda… didn’t. I ordered them online. Even if I had bought them in a store… Well, you can see,” he laughed. “So I hope they fit.”

You began to rethink your decision the second your hands touched his skin. You tried to be careful, but even in the low lighting, you could see the fine gooseflesh that rose on his thighs as you did up one boot, then the other. You stood up slowly, giggling a little at how much taller he was with them on. He laughed, dispersing some of the weirdness, and grabbed the pole next to him to steady as he beckoned you closer. 

“Hmm?” You tilted your head curiously as you peered up at Hwa. “Something wrong?”

“Can I kiss you?” He whispered. 

“Yes,” you breathed. 

Seonghwa leaned over you, slowly, reaching to tilt your chin up, as he brushed his lips with yours in a soft, chaste kiss. You almost expected more, but you could see him trembling, and it was obvious he was holding himself back. 

“Hmm,” he hummed happily. 

“What?” You asked, biting your lip.

“Sweet,” he said, flashing you a toothy grin. He grabbed his phone and handed it to you, the music app open and his routine song ready to go. “Will you press play when I tell you?”

“Of course,” you said, the entirety of your brain caught up in the kiss he’d just given you. Part of you hoped there would be more later.

“Okay, hit it,” Hwa said, and you pressed play, not expecting the music to come from the studio speakers. 

He was already lost in the music, and you sat and watched in awe as he danced, every spin and dip imprinting itself on your brain like a photograph you knew you’d never forget. Even if he finished his routine and you walked out the door immediately after, you knew this was a show of artistry you knew would stick with you for the rest of your life. 

The song ended abruptly, and Seonghwa spun once more and slowed to a stop, chest heaving and sweat dripping, platinum curls deflated and hair sticking to his neck as he tried to catch his breath. You hurried to grab him a towel and some water, and he accepted it gratefully. 

“Thank you,” he told you. “What did you think?” 

“Hwa…” You started. “I… I really have no words. If you don’t win that competition or whatever it is, I will personally start a riot.”

“Hmm. Helps me put on my fancy boots, offers to be my own personal riot starter…” he giggled. “I like where this is going.”

“Oh yeah?” You moved closer to him. “Do you need help taking the boots back off?”

“I think I can manage that bit, it’s the putting on that stumps me. But… Hey, do you wanna come upstairs? I… I don’t really want this night to be over anytime soon,” he admitted. “I need to shower really quick, but then maybe we could watch a movie or something?” 

“Sure, that sounds great.”

You played on your phone while you waited for Seonghwa to get out of the shower. He had made sure you were comfortable, even lending you an extra, yet-unworn pair of socks to keep your feet warm, bundling you up on his cush sofa with a blanket, a bottle of water, and a glass of wine. 

“I’ll be quick,” he promised. 

“Take your time,” you reassured him. 

About twenty minutes later, he emerged from the hallway, now sporting an old, well-worn Star Wars t-shirt and grey sweatpants. 

“Oh, shoot,” he sighed, when he saw you. “Here I am all comfy, and you’re still dressed up.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you laughed. “It’s a comfortable dress.”

“I mean. I think I might have some stuff that a friend left that would fit you. He tends to buy a lot of stuff oversized.” 

“It’s okay,” you told him, shaking your head. “A friend, huh?”

“Oh, yeah, he’s a producer, he always stays here when he comes through down when one of his groups is doing a tour. His name is Mingi. You should meet him sometime, I think the two of you would get along well.”

“Oh,” you said.

Is he…

“Oh, I didn’t mean it like that,” Seonghwa said, plopping down next to you and spreading a blanket over himself. He fumbled for a second, and then suddenly his hand was enveloping your own, and he laced his fingers through yours. “Nah. You can meet Mingi all you want. That’s it.”

“Oh, and why is that it?” You turned to him with a sly grin on your lips. 

“Because I know someone else who likes you,” Hwa said, matter-of-factly.

“And who is that?”

“ Me ,” Seonghwa said breathily, as he closed the gap between you, pressing his lips to yours. Before you knew it, your arms were snaking around his muscular torso, and he took that initiative to press closer still, flicking the tip of his tongue against your lips, and sighing as you parted them for him.

He kissed you with a fervor that you’d felt an inkling of downstairs in the studio, but now, here, where had you all to himself, Seonghwa was kissing you like he wanted to consume all that you were, and give you back pleasure in return. He nipped and bit gently at your lips, trailed the tip of his tongue along your jawline, pressing soft kisses in its wake, only to move down your neck in that same maddeningly slow speed. You could hear him giggling softly, and in that second became hyper aware that you were breathing hard and heavy, tiny noises escaping your lips unbidden, and you whined loudly as Hwa hit a particularly sensitive spot over your collarbone. 

“You okay?” Seonghwa stopped, backing away a bit to look at you, concerned. 

“I’m…” You were gasping for breath, not that Hwa was faring much better. “I’m good.”

“Yeah?” He asked softly. “So you don’t wanna stop?” 

“Not unless you want to.” 

“Absolutely not,” Seonghwa whispered, pressing his lips to yours again. 

He did pause for just a second, so he could detangle both of you from the blankets, and then all but dragged you to straddle his lap. 

“Hey,” he whispered between kisses. “What… do…”

“Whatever… you… want…” You managed to get out. 

“Clean?” He mumbled. You nodded as you leaned in to kiss his neck, enjoying the sharp gasp that killed his next word before it took flight. 

“B… birth… cont— FUCK!” He exclaimed as you sank your teeth every so slightly into his shoulder. 

“Mmhmm…” You murmured, running your tongue over his collarbone. 

As riled as he’s gotten me in the last week… he deserves every bit of this.  

“You want to?” You mumbled against his neck.

“Huh?” He cursed again as you found another sensitive spot. 

“You said, fuck,” you said, sitting up to look at him. 

You could barely contain your reaction to the beauty in front of you— Seonghwa sat under you, chest heaving, damp hair falling in his face and a sheen of sweat on his forehead as he stared back at you. His deep brown eyes already looked half fucked-out, and he shifted slightly, causing you to realize just how hard he was. 

“Yeah,” Seonghwa said, nodding, looking slightly drunk, grinning as he leaned in to capture your lips with his own. “We should definitely fuck.” 

“Glad we’re on the same page,” you whispered. He motioned for you to stand, and wordlessly led you to the bedroom. You stopped for a second, taking in the sight. It was neat, and almost minimalist— if you didn’t count the shelf with several Lego floral arrangements, and a few small fandom touches. On one wall was what you supposed must be a large piece of sheet metal, displaying magnets from all over the world. 

“Is something wrong?” He asked, and you became aware that he had moved to turn a light on, and was now staring at you.

“Nothing is wrong,” you said, your mouth dropping open of its own accord when you saw the replica Master Sword in the corner. “Just… if all this works out…” You looked back at him. “Could you redesign my room?”

Seonghwa giggled. 

“Right now, the only thing I want to redesign is the alignment of the sheets on my bed.”

You blinked, catching yourself before you made a joke about how neatly everything was arranged.

“You can say it,” Hwa laughed. “I’ve heard it all before. Now… come here,” he beckoned you over, and you obliged, coming to stand between his legs as he sat down on the bed. He kissed your neck again, wrapping his arms around your torso, and you had your first little nope flick through your head. You stepped back a bit, hands flying up to cover your tummy, and Hwa stopped immediately. 

“What’s wrong?”

“Um.” You frowned. “I…”

“Oh, no, wait, stop,” Hwa shook his head. “I know what you’re going to say. So let me make this abundantly clear.” 

He stood up, leaning down to kiss your forehead before catching your chin with his hand and bringing your lips to his. He kissed you just once, tenderly, before he let you go, keeping his gaze soft as he spoke his next words.

“I think you are incredible. And I want this just as much as you do. But we are not doing anything you aren’t comfortable with. Just so you know, I heard the comments you made about yourself earlier when you didn’t think anyone could hear you. And for what it’s worth, I didn’t agree.”

He kissed you again, but didn’t pull back as far this time. 

“I think you are such a cool human. I was a little dubious at first with all this, because I have been set up on some really awful blind dates. But Lainey insisted I should meet you, and I’m so glad I did. I’ve had a lot of fun tonight, and… I don’t really want to stop, no matter what.” 

“Same here,” you breathed.

“Yeah? Lainey thinks you should meet you too?”

“Okay smartass,” you laughed. 

“There’s my girl,” he said, swooping in for a kiss, but breaking down into a giggle before his lips met yours. 

“Wow, you’re mushy, huh,” you snickered. “This is—hey wait.”

“Huh?”

“ Your girl?”

“I mean…” Seonghwa stammered, caught off guard by your pointed question. “Do you want to be?” 

“Maybe I do,” you said coyly. “What would you say to that?”

“Well,” Hwa said, “in that case I’d say you had better get over here… I need to kiss you. Among other things.”

“Hmm, okay,” you murmured. “I was right then. This is going to be fun.”

“Yes it is,” Seonghwa said, moving back to sit on the bed, pulling you back in for another kiss. You felt his hands on your hips, and you took in a sharp breath. 

“Tell me to stop,” he said. “If you want.”

“No.”

The word had scarcely left your lips before his hands were under your dress, and he quickly pulled it up and over your head, tossing it over his desk chair. 

“Oh,” was all you could manage, before his hands were on your waist and heading upwards, You shivered as his fingertips grazed the border of the fabric hugging your breasts, and he leaned in, pressing his lips to your chest. He kept his eyes locked with yours as best as he could manage, his stare reverent. 

“So, you were thinking, if we did this tonight, you’d just go straight for my throat,” Hwa said softly. “Because I love seeing pretty lingerie on an even prettier woman. Look at you, how this hugs your curves... your breasts... fuck me sideways, you're lethal, do you know that?"

“Um…” Now it was your turn to be a little flustered. “It was more comfortable than the other stuff I had,” you laughed.

“I see. Well, as much as I like this on you,” he told you, now tracing over the florals in the lace, “I think I’d like it better on the floor, and you sitting on my face.”

You couldn’t help it— you did a double take at his words, and he burst out laughing. You quickly followed, and it took a moment for both of you to calm down.

“Was that too much?” Seonghwa giggled. “Oh my god.”

“No, no,” you wheezed. “It… I… It was fucking hot. I just… I’ve never done this with anyone who was this… bold? No, that’s not it…” 

“Ponder it later,” he instructed you, slipping the straps of your bodysuit off your shoulders. "I need you before I go insane."

“Okay, but hang on,” you said, holding up a finger. “You have to get naked too.”

“Oh, that’s part of the plan, don’t worry,” he laughed. “Tell you what…”

He directed your hands to his waist, and you slowly pushed the soft, worn fabric of his t-shirt up his body, delighting in the way he shuddered under your touch. You helped him out of the shirt, adding it to the chair with your dress. You hooked your thumbs into his sweatpants next, and he did not make any move to stop you. You looked up at him as you slipped the pants down, trying desperately not to look down as you felt his hard cock spring free. 

“No underwear, huh?”

“More comfortable,” he shrugged. “When I dance pole sometimes, I wear a thong,” he winked at you.

“Okay, we’re gonna revisit that later,” you blinked at him. “Yeah. I'm going to see to see that up close and personal."

“Mmhmm, sounds good,” he murmured, “because right now I need less talking, more of you sitting on my face.”

“Seonghwa,” you whined.

“Gonna need a lot more of you whimpering my name as well,” he whispered in your ear before nipping at your earlobe. 

He stood, spinning around so you were standing with your back to the bed, and gently, he pushed you down onto the mattress, where he spent a few moments letting his hands wander over skin and fabric, caressing your curves, and murmuring quiet praise under his breath. He worshiped your body like you were a goddess sent to earth solely for him, and you let him, half listening to his words, and half wondering where he had been all your life.

Slowly, he worked the bodysuit off of you, and once you were fully bare before him, he leaned over you, pressing his naked body to your own. His hard cock rested against your leg, hot and heavy, and you wanted it so desperately in that moment that you let out a loud whimper.

“Patience, baby,” Hwa cooed as he brought a hand up your leg slowly, starting at the knee, until he reached your soaked center. You had been wet since his dancing downstairs, at this point you were almost embarrassed, because you could feel your own slick with every single movement. 

“Holy shit,” he hissed as his slender fingers parted your folds. “Oh. Oh god,” he whispered as he sank two fingers inside you easily. You yelped and arched your back, and Hwa was there, hand on your belly as he soothed your surprise. He withdrew his fingers, bringing them to his lips, and you watched his eyes roll back as he tasted you. 

In a flash, he was on the bed behind you, motioning for you to sit up, so he could lay down. He helped you clamber up to the head of the bed, steadying yourself with the headboard as you straddled him. You peered down, biting your lip. You’d never sat on someone’s face before, for various reasons, but Hwa was driving you insane in the best way, and you were desperate to have that tongue inside you. 

Even so, you had to double check.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” 

Seonghwa did not give you a verbal answer, and instead locked his strong arms around your thighs, pulling your center down to meet his warm, waiting mouth. 

You clapped a hand over your mouth immediately as you let out a small shriek, feeling Hwa slipping that long tongue inside you over and over, flicking your clit, sucking on it in varying intensities. You began to rock on his face out of habit, and then stopped, suddenly worried about him again. He tapped on your thigh to get your attention.

“Ride my face,” he commanded, voice muffled. “You won’t hurt me. Ride my face,  baby. I wanna taste it when you come into my mouth. You’ll be good for me and come all over my face, won’t you?”

“Hwaaa,” you whined loudly, every nerve in your body on fire as you found an easy rhythm that promised to send you plummeting off the edge in no time. 

“Mmm… tastes so good… so good for me,” he was mumbling as he helped you move. “So good… come for me, let me taste how sweet… fuck… oh god…”

You came suddenly and without warning, holding onto the headboard so hard you were afraid you’d break it as your vision whited out, body shaking like a leaf as Hwa continued to eat you through it like you were the last thing he’d ever taste. He finally relented when you begged him to, and helped you down from your perch to lie next to him. You lay there, breathing ragged and mostly boneless, as he reached for some tissues to clean his face. You managed to maneuver yourself onto your side, taking the tissues from him and gently wiping his face clean.

Once you were done, he disposed of the trash and curled on his side to face you, nuzzling your nose with his. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Like it’s been several years since I came that hard and I’m glad I don’t have to work tomorrow, because I seem to have misplaced my brain,” you said smoothly, eliciting a giggle from Seonghwa. 

“Good.”

“However,” you continued, “there’s still the matter of your pleasure,” you told him, running gentle fingertips down his side, enjoying the way he shivered. He really did have a dancer’s body through and through— not too bulky, but lithe and muscular, and the honey gold of his skin against the white sheets on his bed made you feel a little insane. You pushed him onto his back, sitting up now so you could lean over him, peppering him with kisses. 

“Fuck, that feels so nice,” Hwa sighed, eyes fluttering shut. They didn’t stay that way for long, as your lips locked over one of his nipples, sucking gently while you swirled your tongue around it. Now it was his turn to whine your name, one hand fisted in your hair. You moved lower, running your tongue over the hard planes of his abdomen, delighting in the way he squirmed and whimpered. You pulled back for a second, and finally steeled yourself to reach for his cock, which was standing at attention and clearly needing some— head angry and red, leaking pre-cum at an astonishing rate. You watched it drip down the shaft for a second, not knowing where you wanted to go from here. 

How does this man even have a pretty dick? It’s crazy, really.

The second you touched him, Seonghwa pulled a pillow over his face to muffle the cry he let out, and you laughed out loud. 

“Sensitive, hmm?”

All he could do was groan in a low tone, and you gave him a few soft, deliciously slow strokes that had him grasping at the sheets. You smeared pre-cum over the head with your thumb, and he whined your name loudly. 

“Sit on me,” he gasped. “Please. Oh fuck, sit on my cock, please.”

“Seonghwa—”

“Don’t you dare bring that up right now,” he said in a stern tone, and you bit back the words you were going to say. “You’re not going to hurt me. Now… baby… please…” He peered down at you, eyes wild with need. “Sit on my cock.”

You moved up to straddle him, enjoying how vocal he was every time you touched him.

You were still not prepared for the long string of curse words that left his lips as you began to rub the head of his cock between your slick folds, and you sat down every so slightly, letting just the tip of him press inside you. 

His hands were on your hips in a vice grip in the next second, and he was pushing inside you now, slowly, so slowly, giving you time to adjust. The stretch was perfect, his pretty cock filling you up just right, and when he bottomed out inside you, he sighed contentedly. 

“Oh, perfect… so warm… wet… god, baby, fuck me, use me, ride me,” he mumbled. “Please. Ride me until we both come so hard we can't walk straight. I'll beg if I have to."

"Hmm. I could stand to see you beg, but we can save that for later," you told him as you leaned in for a quick kiss.

You found a comfortable position in moments, leaning over him as you rode him into the mattress just the way he’d asked. At his urging, you let your movements get rougher, faster, and his whimpers and deep moans spurred you on. All the while, the head of his cock was hitting you just right with every thrust, and you weren’t sure how much longer you would last. 

“Oh…” You realized suddenly that you were too close, but before you could stop, Seonghwa was begging you to keep moving, amid his incoherent babbling at how good you felt. Meanwhile, every bit of friction, the drag of his hard cock against your walls, even as wet as you were, was sending you into a tailspin.

You felt yourself tipping, and you let go, stars behind your eyes this time. As your body shook, you felt Seonghwa arch his back, his cock pulsing inside you as he came, crying out your name. He kept you moving, pushing you into another climax before the first had subsided, and again, only stopped when you begged for him to relent.

“Mmmm… fuck ,” Seonghwa muttered as you slumped over him, both of you gasping for air. 

“Yes, I believe we accomplished our goal,” you snickered as you rolled to one side, only for Seonghwa to quickly close the gap, slotting his body against yours and beginning to pepper your face with soft, warm kisses. 

“You know,” he told you as he gave you a tender kiss on the lips. “This is the best first date I ever had.” 

“Hmm, same,” you told him. 

“Do you wanna shower with me?” He asked. “I’ll change the bedsheets too, so we’re not sleeping in a mess,” he giggled. 

“You want me to stay?” You asked, somewhat dubiously, despite what he’d just confessed to you.

“Of course I want you to stay, silly,” he told you. “You’re mine now, we agreed. I heard it.”

“Yours,” you echoed.

“Look,” he told you, kissing your forehead. “If getting to know you this week, and the delightful time we’ve had together tonight is any indicator, I can tell you confidently that yes, I want you to stay, and I might not ever want to let you go, at that.”

“Hmm. Sounds like a plan,” you said sleepily. 

You weren’t normally one to talk in such a way at this stage, but something about being with Hwa just felt right. And as he tucked you back into bed after a shower that was steamy in more ways than one, you knew, deep in your heart, that this was real, and that he meant it when he said he was here to stay. 

It had been a long time since you’d believed you could find love. But here in the dark, in Seonghwa’s arms, it felt like a sure possibility, and you were going to run with it, for as long as you could. 

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fae, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Tricksters, Bickering, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, Eventual Angst, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Teasing, Banter, Soul Bond

...If you're lost out where the lights are blinding Caught in all, the stars are hiding That's when something wild calls you home If you face the fear that keeps you frozen Chase the sky into the ocean That's when something wild calls you home...

~ Something Wild, Andrew McMahon in the Wilderness/Lindsey Stirling

“Never, ever, look into a mirror in the dark at night. That’s just inviting trouble.”

---

You sighed as you pushed your chair back from your desk. It had been another exceptionally long day— meetings that could have been emails, and a few clients that you were more than a little miffed with for their attitudes. Entitlement was a disease, and a lot more people had it these days, you felt. It was irritating, but at the end of the day, your bills were paid, so you tried to keep the complaining to a minimum.

“Always something though,” you muttered to yourself. “Never fucking fails.”

You heard something clatter on the floor in the kitchen, and sighed again.

“Trogdor,” you called to your cat, who amusingly enough, meowed as if to answer you. “What the entire fuck are you doing now, oh Mr. Burninator?”

You heard another plaintive meow as you walked out of your bedroom, and saw he’d tipped over his food bowl, scattering kibble clear across the floor.

Again.

You laughed and shook your head, patting him on his rump as he made a beeline for you. He was a sweet cat, an orange monstrosity with a singular brain cell that you had taken in as a stray. He had been much smaller then, and you often wondered if he had some Maine Coon in him, as big as he had gotten. You’d had him for five years now, and you couldn’t imagine life without him and the chaos he brought on the daily.

Chaos aside, you loved him to bits. You had never intended to keep him to begin with, but after he’d knocked over a candle that you thought for sure you’d set up out of his reach— burning a significant amount of the carpet in your bedroom to boot— you’d named him Trogdor the Burninator, and the rest was history.

“Poor baby, could you see the bottom of your bowl?” You laughed as he circled you while you cleaned up the mess he’d made. "Gonna report me to the ASPCA?"

He meowed again, louder this time.

“Starving to death, huh? Liar.”

You refilled the bowl and topped it off, and he happily settled into eating, purring up a storm as he did. You added to his water dish as well before flopping down onto the couch. You considered ordering dinner, but it was already past 11, and you had an early morning to look forward to, having promised your grandmother that you’d attend the sunrise yoga class she taught.

I did not think that one through. Too late to back out now though… Maybe. Why do people insist on doing yoga at sunrise? Far too early, if you ask me.

You settled for ramen as a cheaper alternative, then hopped into the shower, flipping out the light to bathe in the dark. You’d been in this apartment for a while now, and it was so tiny and arranged in such a way you could easily muscle memory your way through most anything, light or no light. You got ready for bed in near silence, save for Trogdor’s occasional yammering, and tried to stifle a yawn as you fumbled for your toothbrush.

You glanced in the mirror, and startled when you saw a figure, seemingly standing at the edge of the glass. It was tall, dressed all in white. You quickly looked back down at the sink, finishing your task at light speed before heading straight to bed. Your grandmother’s words echoed in your head. She’d always warned you, ever since you were young: never look into a mirror at night, in the dark. 

Ever.

You had never believed her superstitions, but you had humored her all the same, for the most part.

Then again, this was the first time you’d ever seen something that wasn’t obviously an item or structure that you knew was in the room with you.

There’s no fucking way. I'm tired. That's all.

You shrugged, chalking it up to pure exhaustion. But part of you was deathly curious, and you went back to peek again.

Sure enough, the white-clad figure was still there. You could make out the barest hint of a face now, blonde curls under a white head covering.

You’d seen more than enough now, and made a mad dash from the bathroom, with Trogdor hot on your heels and meowing loudly.

“Did you see that too, Trogdor?” You asked the cat as he jumped up onto your bed with you. He sat in front of you, bending to bonk your knee with his head, and you laughed and scratched behind his ears, starting the purring up all over again.

“Maybe I’m just going crazy,” you said out loud with a sigh. “Which actually tracks, I guess.”

It was certainly possible, you supposed. It had had been a very long summer so far, and you were barely into July. The last three weeks alone had held all sorts of mischief, from a client who’d tried to stiff you on an extensive web design project that had taken you a month, to finally breaking it off with your fiancé, Emery.

The latter remained a problem, for as many places as you attempted to block him, he kept finding new ways to harass you, ask you for money, and generally be a tremendous pain in your ass. Emery had been smarter in his younger days, as far as you remembered, but lately, the word 'no' was not in his vocabulary.

You groaned as you saw the time— now half past midnight. Maybe you weren’t going to make that early yoga class after all. You reset your alarms, and shot off a quick text to your grandmother. You knew she wouldn’t see it until she woke up, but would not hesitate to tease you for letting the time get away from you once again.

You couldn’t really help it though— you’d always been a night owl, and your profession lent itself well to those tendencies, especially when meeting with clients in different timezones.

With one last sigh, you plugged in your phone and settled in, eventually drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

You awoke the next morning to a text from your grandmother.

Lillian [04:37am]: Someday we’re going to fix that sleep schedule of yours :p

You laughed as you responded, startling Trogdor, who was asleep next to you on the comforter.

You [9:21am]: Sleep schedule? Sounds fake. Also, you sent that BEFORE FIVE so like. There’s that. Sleep schedule who???

Lillian [9:22am]: Well you would know. And that’s not the point. But…as long as you’re taking good care of yourself.

You [9:22am]: As best I can considering the everything of it all :) At least it’s Friday!

Lillian [9:23am]: Good to hear. Maybe we can get coffee this weekend? Since you skipped yoga ;) I miss my favorite granddaughter.

You [9:24am]: Okay first of all, I am your ONLY granddaughter. Also... I had every intention of doing a yoga but then… I failed at going to bed on time.

Lillian [9:25am]: I assume it’s Trogdor’s fault again?

You hesitated, not wanting to admit to her what you’d seen. You knew that one, she would be curious, and two, she’d tease you. Nevertheless, you adored your grandma. Your parents had long been out of the picture, and Lillian had raised you in their absence. You often felt as though you owed her everything. She had been your biggest cheerleader through the years, and showed no signs of ever stopping.

You [9:27am]: Nah. Just time blindness. And maybe I might have worked until almost 11. Oopsie.

Lillian [9:28am]: Cut out early today. Grandma’s orders.

You [9:29am]: You don’t have to tell me twice. I was already considering it. Thinking about grabbing a last minute ticket to a show tonight, even.

She sent back a “do it” gif, and you laughed as you tossed the covers aside, clambering out of bed and padding to the kitchen.

You [9:30am]: Done and done. Love ya. Talk to you later?

Lillian [9:30am]: Absolutely. Be good. Love you too.

You [9:31am]: You be good first!! :)

Lillian [9:31am]: NEVER!!

You busied yourself with making coffee and breakfast, glad that you had no client meetings until noon. The day went off without much of a hitch, and you signed off around 3, nabbed a cheap ticket to see Chicago (again), and you were ready and out the door by 5.

When you returned home, you were annoyed to find that your automatic timers hadn’t come on. You shrugged, figuring you’d deal with it in the morning, and settled for the overhead lights instead while you got ready for bed.

Curiosity got the best of you once again as you were brushing your teeth, and you jumped in surprise when you saw the figure again— closer this time, and seemingly in the same room with you. You could see their features now, beautiful to the point of being inhuman, the soft blonde curls framing a gentle face bearing a broad smile. Their appearance was only made unsettling by the fact that their left eye was a deep red, a sharp contrast to the dark brown of the right.

Well, that, and they were in your mirror to begin with.

Honestly, what the fuck. Maybe I'm not sleeping as soundly as I thought. 

You spun, but were met with the blank wall behind you.

When you looked back, the figure was gone.

Well if that’s not McFucking creepy as hell I don’t know what is.

You covered the bathroom mirror with a towel before going to sleep that night, feeling ever so slightly uneasy now. Part of you wondered if you were just losing it for real.

The rest of you was almost afraid your grandma had been right about mirrors.

Trogdor woke you early, with a yowling that you’d never heard from him before. You stumbled blearily out of the bedroom, and nearly fell over when you saw it— the figure from the mirror, now perched on the arm of your couch like they belonged there.

You stopped short, blinking, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“So I’m hallucinating now,” you muttered. “Like for real, for real. Cool. Amazing. Splendid, even.”

“Not quite,” they said softly.

You slapped a hand over your mouth to hold in the shriek trying to burst from your lungs, staring at them with eyes wide.

“No. This isn’t real.”

“It is. Very real."

“No,” you said airily, crossing to the kitchen and beginning to make some coffee. “I’m sleep deprived. You’re not real.”

“I am real," they argued. "I promise."

“Oh yeah, then who are you?” You asked indignantly, as if you were five.

Real mature. What the fuck. I need help. What is this?!

You glanced over to the door.

All three deadbolts and the bar were secure. Not that that meant a lot.

Could have locked up after themselves I guess? But… what the fuck.

You knew in your bones that whoever this was, they hadn’t come in through the door, though.

The goddamn fucking mirror. It's got to be.

“My name is Wumuti.”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m the king of the fae realm.”

“Excuse me?” You cocked an eyebrow, now trying not to laugh. “What?”

Okay. Maybe… Maybe it’s time to visit the nearest hospital, you thought, lips pursed as you cut up an apple and scooped some peanut butter out onto a small plate. You swiped a slice of apple through the peanut butter and took a bite, chewing thoughtfully.

Something tasted off, but you didn’t fully realize until you had swallowed, and a burning sensation rose in the pit of your stomach, followed by an intense wave of nausea.

Wait. Did. Did he… they… whatever… king of the FAE?!

“Shit,” you said flatly, as your vision went blurry and you crumpled to the floor in a heap.

When you came to, you were lying on your own couch, covered with one of your old quilts. You groaned and stretched, soreness radiating through your lower back.

Fuck. What the fuck was that dream? I don’t remember coming out to the couch…

You closed your eyes, took a deep breath, and opened them again.

To your absolute dismay, you still had company, now sitting on the floor next to the couch, regarding you quietly.

No. Fuck no. Tell me this is NOT REAL. SAY SIKE, UNIVERSE. SAY SIKE RIGHT THE FUCK NOW.

Said company appeared very, very worried.

“This… was not supposed to happen,” Wumuti said cautiously, and you glared with as much strength as you could muster.

“What do you fucking mean?” You sputtered as you sat up, pushing the quilt away and scooting away from Wumuti. “You… whoever… whatever… what the fuck… I… you…”

“I told you. King of the fae,” Wumuti said firmly.

Matter-of-factly, as if this entire situation weren’t absurd in its own right.

“So…” You weren’t sure why your first thought amid all this absurdity was pronouns. “What… what do I call you?”

Wumuti shrugged.

“My name. Unless you mean pronouns… and I don’t care about that. Call me whatever you want.”

“Okay,” you said cautiously.

“Most people use he,” Wumuti said. “Some people call me Muti. It doesn’t matter. That’s neither here nor there.”

He held up his right wrist, where a red string bracelet was tied.

“This was not supposed to happen. And I am sorry.”

“Huh?”

He gestured to your own wrist, and you glanced down to see the same— a red string bracelet, decoratively knotted and woven, matching his own.

“So.” You were trying to remain calm as you tried to assess exactly what the fuck was happening. “You tricked me? Is that was this is?”

“Well, not exactly,” Wumuti began.

“Interesting verbiage,” you huffed, sitting up and scooting away. “What does this mean? Exactly?”

“It means,” he said with a heavy sigh, “that we’re soul bonded. I… this wasn’t my intent. I was looking for a companion. A friend. I wasn’t…” His voice faltered, and he hung his head. "I didn't mean for this to happen like it did."

Part of you wondered how sincere he was.

The rest of you was recalling every single bit of lore you’d ever heard about fae beings, and you were livid.

“But you tricked me,” you accused. “That’s still… you tricked me! On purpose! Was it the apple?!”

Wumuti nodded.

“The red one. But... Like I said... I didn’t… I didn’t intend…” He trailed off, obviously aware now that you were beyond upset.

Fuck. What the fuck?! WHAT THE FUCK?!

You hadn’t even given it a second thought.

You wanted to blame yourself for not being more careful.

Then again, he’d tricked you. Knowingly come into your home. Set the apple out. And waited.

And you, in your supreme dumbassery, hadn't even thought to check before eating the food that normally lived on the counter. After all, why would you?

It was the perfect setup. You wondered if he'd been planning it, or if it had been on a whim.

“So what now then?” You demanded, your pitch raising as you spoke. You sighed and tried to lower your voice, painfully aware that it was still early yet. “I suppose I have to come back with you to… faeland. Or whatever.”

“The fae realm,” he said exasperatedly with an eye roll that would give your grandmother a run for her money.

“Yeah, I’m gonna call it faeland,” you huffed. “Deal with it.”

“You still haven’t told me your name,” he said, now with a soft smile, and you weren’t sure if this was another trick.

You told him your first name only, and his grin grew wider.

“See, was that so hard?”

“Well gee,” you gestured to the bracelet on your wrist. “I don’t fucking suppose it matters anyway, but yes, actually, since you asked.”

“To answer your question, I would very much like you to go back with me,” Wumuti said, his tone now ever so slightly clipped. “However…”

“However what?! What now?”

“I have to have your consent,” he said, voice dropping low and deathly serious.

You couldn’t help it. You laughed.

Loudly.

Trogdor, who had been sitting on your feet, hissed and bolted from the room.

“I have to say,” you said between giggles, “I did not see that coming. Okay... well then. No.”

“Huh?” Wumuti blinked, obviously confused.

“No. I’m not going. I like it here. This is my home. You came in uninvited, tricked me, trapped me into this… soul bond, or whatever it is, and now you also want me to go back to faeland with you? Hard pass.”

“But I can’t…” Wumuti began. “We can’t… We’re…”

“I’d ask if the cat got your tongue but it’s clear he’s not keen on this situation either,” you said snidely.

You were done being civil. The anger had boiled over, and you knew in your bones that this was all very real. You could feel it— the bond. Sitting in your heart, of all places, but feeling like the heaviest weight you’d ever felt, and you didn’t want it. You had sworn no one else, after Emery. Not even the king of the fae.

You were, simply put, done with the idea of loving anyone, ever again. Whatever this was, you absolutely did not want it, and it was almost painful to know that you were stuck with it.

Not even the universe could talk you into this one. You wouldn’t let it.

“So I guess you’re stuck here then?” You continued. “That’s what I’m getting out of your muttering.”

“Yes,” Wumuti said, his own irritation bubbling to the surface now. “If you won’t go, then yes. I’ll have no choice but to remain here with you.”

“Can you really not go back without me?” You sighed.

“No. Not really. Not for any length of time that would matter to you, anyway.”

“What would happen if you did?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted with a soft sigh. "I'm afraid to try. It could harm both of us."

“Well. Sucks to be us then, I guess,” you said with a heavy sigh. You glanced around the apartment, taking a mental note of everything you’d need to buy to make this sudden new arrangement even close to tolerable.

Hell, I bet all he came with is the clothes he’s wearing and that stupid fucking apple. RIP my savings accounts. I wonder if he can go back long enough to get some stuff. Probably not. Wouldn’t that be too easy?

“You can sleep on the couch. It turns into a bed,” you told Wumuti as you got up, crossing back into the kitchen to get a glass of ice water. Sadly, the cold did not shock you back to any kind of reality where Wumuti was still not sitting on the floor in your living room. “My bedroom is absolutely, one hundred percent off limits. Do you understand?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

Traps me by the damn soul but respects my personal space. What the entire…

“I’m going to get ready and go out and get some stuff,” you said. “You are to stay here. You are not to touch anything in here in the kitchen. I don’t need you pulling a Trogdor and trying to burn my apartment down.”

“Trogdor?” Wumuti wrinkled his nose in confusion.

“It’s my cat’s name,” you told him flatly. “Also? You’re gonna have to get a job. If you’re going to live here, you’ll have to contribute.”

“But I’ve never been to Earth!” Wumuti rose to his feet, protesting loudly. “How do you expect me to—”

“Shush! It’s 6am,” you admonished him. “Well. Almost 7. Whatever. Either way, you’ve ruined my Saturday. Congrats.”

“If it’s any consolation, I’m not exactly having the best time, myself,” Wumuti huffed.

“Good,” you mumbled under your breath. "Join the fucking club."

You excused yourself to your bedroom for a moment to check on the cat and find some clothes that you thought might not be way too big on Wumuti. You’d take his measurements later and order some things, you supposed.

Or take him shopping, which sounded like a special nightmare in itself.

This is so fucking absurd. Why is this happening to me?!

In the meantime, you grabbed a faded t-shirt and a too-small pair of sweats that you’d been hanging on to in the hopes of fitting into them again. They had been your favorite lounge pants at one time.

Absolutely unfair. He already got my soul?! Now I have to share my clothes too. And everything else. What the fuck. I’m so over this already.

You showed him how to work the shower, the sink, and where the cups were, as well as giving an overview of the fridge. When you were satisfied enough to feel at least somewhat safe leaving him alone for a bit, you dipped into the bathroom to get ready yourself, game planning for your day in your head as you scrubbed your skin, knowing he’d touched you to carry you to the couch, already wanting to erase any trace of him.

The bracelet would not come off. You had even tried scissors.

You now needed replacement scissors, as they’d broken when you tried to cut the bracelet.

You breathed in deeply as you exited the apartment, after giving another tutorial on the locks. New York City was bustling around you, the energy outside completely oblivious to what had happened to you in the last two days.

With another sigh, you headed up the street.

Should have listened to Lillian.

Six hours later, you returned to the apartment bearing armfuls of bags. You’d been overly generous in what you’d bought, cursing yourself internally for the caretaker trait that ran so deep you couldn’t contain it.

You supposed it was better this way. The less he had to complain about, the less he would bother you. You were already stuck together in a 500 square foot apartment. You shuddered as you realized you were also going to have to help him learn to navigate the city. The subway. And everything else.

God. He’s going to need papers. An ID. A bank account. Fuck me. How the hell am I gonna do all that?!

You had ordered divider screens for the open doorway of your room, as well as the living room, in a feeble attempt to provide more privacy for both of you. Up until now, the openness of your apartment had been appealing. The size had been perfect.

Now, with the king of the fae sitting on your couch, it felt infinitesimally too small. Too open.

You were putting pillowcases onto the new pillows you’d bought when you received a text from your grandmother.

Lillian [3:06pm]: How’s it going? Did you sleep last night?

You sighed. You knew you were going to have to tell her. She came over often enough that there was no way in hell this was getting past her. You weren’t sure what the rules were about telling other people, not that you had many to tell. But Lillian always heard everything. She had always been your rock.

You [3:07pm]: It’s going. I went shopping today. Just some stuff for the apartment. What’s up?

Lillian [3:08pm]: How about we get that coffee we talked about? Are you free?

You glanced over at Wumuti. You’d turned on the TV just to have some noise and distraction, and he was watching Kitchen Nightmares, so thoroughly entranced that you had to admit it was entertaining. He had showered while you were gone, and was dressed in the clothes you’d provided, blonde hair hanging damp around his bare face. Without the makeup he'd been wearing, he still radiated an unearthly beauty. 

Okay brain, that's enough of that.

You [3:09pm]: Sure! 4 work for you?

Lillian [3:09pm]: Sounds great. See you then!

You arrived at the coffee shop with ten minutes to spare, spotting your grandmother easily amid the gaggle of people— her sea-green hair stood out like a beacon. Lillian had always been the sort to march to the beat of her own drum, and she had instilled that in you as you’d grown up.

“Hi there,” she greeted you brightly as you approached the table she’d been guarding. “I got you a cold brew.”

“Bless you,” you said happily, giving her a tight hug before the two of you sat down. You took a sip of the coffee, annoyed for a moment as you remembered that Wumuti was still in your apartment, and hopefully right where you’d left him. You didn’t trust him, not even a little bit, but you had to admit that he had been relatively well behaved, at least today.

Fat chance of that continuing, I’m sure.

“What was that look?” Lillian asked you, knowing that you were terrible at using your inside face. “What’s going on, sweetheart?”

“Oh, just the usual,” you shrugged as you toyed with your coffee cup. “Mostly.”

“New bracelet,” Lillian remarked. “It’s pretty.”

Your expression soured further before you could stop it, and your grandmother was now regarding you with a bemused expression.

“Okay. Something is up.”

“So…” You knew this was going to be comical. “Yeah. I just… Promise you won’t make a huge deal out of it, okay? It’s…”

“Sweetie. Spit it out.”

You also knew out of all the people in this blasted city, Lillian was probably the only one who’d actually believe you.

“You know how…” You sighed. “Uh. You know how you’ve always warned me about… mirrors? At night?”

“Oh my god,” Lillian exclaimed, quickly dropping her tone. “Did you see something?!”

“You could say that,” you said grimly, trying not to laugh at the way your grandmother was sitting now, elbows on the table, chin propped up in her hands.

“Oh, do tell,” she squealed.

“It’s not really as exciting as you’d think,” you sighed. “Quite the opposite actually.”

“Oh, why not?” Lillian asked. “Was it scary?”

“Well,” you began. “You see… I saw a figure on Friday night. I didn’t mean to look, but… I did. It was late and I was tired and I looked. And then I went back and looked again, because I am nothing if not a dumbass,” you added. “And I could see it clearer. Almost see its face.”

“So you saw the same thing twice?” She pursed her lips. “Interesting.”

“It gets worse,” you said in a clipped tone. “I saw him again last night.”

“Him?”

“Uh. Yeah. Him. Or whatever. Apparently he doesn’t care what you call him.”

“Okay, what is going on?” Lillian was now regarding you with a mixture of curiosity and worry.

“When I woke up this morning, the king of the fucking fae was sitting in my living room,” you mumbled.

“Wow, really?!” Lillian clapped her hands in excitement. “Wait. Honey, are you… Are you okay? Are you getting enough sleep?”

“No, I’m actually being extremely real right now,” you sighed. “Deadass, that fucker waltzed in through the mirror. Planted an enchanted apple in the fruit basket in my kitchen. WHICH I THEN ATE A PIECE OF!”

You realized you’d raised your voice a bit, and lowered it again, trying to collect yourself as someone at the table behind yours shot you a nasty glare at the noise.

Across the table, your grandmother was giggling into her napkin.

“I’m glad you find this so amusing,” you huffed. “This is not funny. At all. I got tricked in the worst way possible.”

“So the bracelet…” Lillian said.

“Red thread of fate, is what I’m guessing,” you muttered bitterly. “I tried to cut it off. I had to buy new scissors because they broke. Like. My good fabric scissors. Boom. Snapped like they were made out of cheap wires.”

Lillian was cackling now.

“So let me get this straight,” she tried to get out. “You ignored my superstition all these years. Then looked in the mirror, once on purpose, and now you’re bound by fate to the king of the fae.”

“That about sums it up,” you frowned deeply. “He insists that he didn’t mean to do this. Said he was looking for a friend. A companion, was his exact wording. But this… we’re soul bonded, or whatever. And it can’t be undone.”

“So you’ll be moving soon then, hmm? Back home with him?”

“No,” you said airily. “I refused to go, and he apparently can’t take me without my consent. Which means… I both win and lose, because now he’s stuck here with me.”

“So where is he now?” Lillian asked. “I want to meet him. What’s his name? Did he tell you?”

“You are taking this way too well, and way too much in a way that seems like you’re not entirely on my side,” you laughed. “You actually believe me?”

“Of course I do,” Lillian nodded. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You sighed again. You’d been doing that a lot today.

Oh well.

“The name he gave me was Wumuti,” you told her. “If he’s doing what I instructed, then he should still be at the apartment, watching TV and not fucking around with anything in the kitchen. I had to go out shopping earlier to get him some things, and I swear to god, I’m already over this whole thing.”

“You left the king of the fae in your apartment watching TV?” Lillian was wheezing laughing.

“Kitchen Nightmares,” you nodded. “It was the first thing that popped up on the free TV channels and I wasn’t about to find something else. He’s already making me crazy just by being in my space. And I still have to figure out how to get him an ID, and a bank account, and whatever else, so he can get a job, because I’ll be damned if he’s going to hang around all day every day. I’d have to have myself committed to get away from him.”

You waited patiently for Lillian to calm herself again, which took quite a long time, and you weren’t sure how to feel about it. You were glad she believed you, sure.

You were shocked that she believed you no questions asked.

Just honest to god true belief in your epic fantasy novel levels of wackiness.

You also knew you were absolutely never, ever going to live this down. There was a snowball’s chance in hell, probably less.

“Well, I know some people,” she finally said, taking a sip of her coffee. You took a swig of yours as she continued. “Can you take some photos of him in normal clothes for me? I’ll get on that right away. Shouldn’t be more than a week.”

“I’m not sure if I should be concerned that you ‘know people’ who can do all this, or be grateful,” you laughed. “This is so genuinely crazy that I’m still having trouble believing it’s real, myself.”

“Don’t you worry, sweetie. I’ve got you covered. I’ll get him whatever he needs. Sounds like we’ll need an ID, a social… can you get me one of your utility bills? I can have them change the name on it so he has proof of residence.”

“Okay, hold up,” you giggled. “Whose side are you on here, Lillian?”

“Government naming your own grandmother?” She pretended to be shocked. “Well I’ll be.”

“No but, for real,” you said, sticking your tongue out at her.

“I guess…” She pondered for a second, before reaching over to trace the bracelet on your wrist. “I’ve got no choice but to be on the side of fate.”

“Ugh,” you groaned as she picked up her phone with a giggle. “What are you doing now?”

“Changing your contact name to Merida,” she said gleefully. “A spell to change your fate,” she added in a terrible attempt at a Scottish accent.

“I—” You knew your face was bright red now. "That is not funny!"

"On the contrary, it's hilarious," Lillian countered.

“I did warn you,” she said as she set the phone down, and you could see she’d also changed your contact photo. “Why do you think I always cover my mirrors at night?”

Yep. Never living this down. Amazing. Incredible.

An hour or so later, you’d made a list of what you needed to get done so your grandmother could obtain legal documents for your new… roommate. You thanked her profusely, and she waved it away with a laugh.

“Don’t worry about it. My friends owe me a favor anyway. Won’t cost me a dime.”

“I am growing increasingly curious about this whole setup,” you said, eyeing Lillian, who shrugged.

“It’s fine. You let me handle it.” She said firmly, and that was that.

You bid her farewell out on the street, citing a need to run a few more errands before you went home. You supposed you’d go ahead and get him a phone— and wouldn’t that be fun to teach him. You made a mental note of several other things he probably needed, then immediately opened your own phone to jot everything down in a note.

An hour later, you had purchased a brand new smartphone for Wumuti, with a red case, chargers, and so on. You were eternally grateful that you at least had the means to accommodate this entire thing, even if it wound up that he never paid you back. Your peace of mind was worth it, you supposed.

Nevermind that your credit cards were about to be sobbing.

You picked up a pizza to go, and headed back to the apartment.

You arrived home to find Wumuti in the same place you’d left him, completely enthralled at the TV.

“Why is he so mean?” He asked, gesturing to Gordon, who on the screen was telling off a restaurant owner for not having their shit together.

“Think less mean, more like… tough love,” you explained. “It’s the whole premise of the show. These places call him in because they’ve got problems but then don’t want to listen to him when he points out the problems.”

“That seems counterintuitive.”

“One would think,” you shrugged, unloading the bag of goodies from the Apple store onto the coffee table. You grabbed the TV remote and switched over to Spotify, pulling up your big mix playlist, ignoring the grumble of protest from Wumuti.

“Nope. Come on. You gotta learn how to use a smartphone. Settle in.” You took a seat on the couch with him, careful not to sit too closely. “And I brought home dinner.”

“What is this?”

“Pizza. Try it,” you encouraged. “You’re on Earth now. Not sure what you’re used to eating, but I can assure you living in New York that you’ll be branching out quite a bit.”

You caught a whiff of whatever perfume he was wearing, and stopped what you were doing for a moment as the complexity of the scent bowled you over. Wumuti smelled like a freshly cut rose in the snow, in the dead of winter. Beautiful, somehow comforting, sharp yet also inexplicably soft.

“A smart what?” He asked as he took a bite of pizza. You watched as his expression changed, from curiosity to delight. “Hmm. This is… hmm.”

“A smartphone.”

You groaned and shook your head, trying to clear your nostrils and your brain.

Get ahold of yourself. God. So he smells good. Fuck off, brain.

“It’s a device that allows you to contact other people, even if you’re far away,” you explained. “You definitely need one, especially here. If you need to get ahold of me, or call work, or whatever else, this is how you’re going to do it. It could even help you find your way when you get lost— and trust me, I’m sure you’ll get lost a few times before you get the hang of the city. It does a lot more than just that, but we’re going to start with the basics and work our way up from there.”

“You picked red?” Wumuti was staring at the phone and the case.

“I mean,” you said. “Yeah?” It seemed like the logical choice, without asking. Guess I was thinking about your eye… I mean, not that I was… whatever.”

“Having two different eye colors is quite common among the fae,” Wumuti told you. “Not many of us don’t have this, to some degree.”

“Interesting.”

You could tell he was trying hard to win you over, to smooth things out. But you were still relatively upset, so you dismissed whatever feelings of fondness were already trying to creep up into your brain, instead busying yourself with giving the king of the fae a crash course in using an iPhone.

Two hours later, you had successfully taught him how to make calls, add contacts, and navigate the basics. You were impressed he picked it up so quickly, despite his claims that he had never been to Earth before. You taught him how to use the SOS mode to call for help, and added yourself as his emergency contact. Against your better judgement, you also added each other to location services so you could track him if needed. You also added a label for “home” and showed him how to pull up walking directions on his GPS.

Next up was text messaging, which took longer, especially due to the fact that he was only poking at the screen with two fingertips, but you figured the longer he practiced, that he’d get there.

At least, you hoped so, because you did not have the patience for repeating yourself ad nauseam.

Next up, you had to explain your grandmother. Wumuti was more than a little horrified that you’d told someone, but calmed immediately when you assured him that your grandma was the last person who’d ever spread that information around. You skipped the part where she’d been teasing you to no end, and instead focused on the tasks at hand— getting him legal identification so he could pass for human.

“Tomorrow is Sunday, so not much we can do in the way of logistics,” you told him, “but we can still go out shopping. You’re going to need clothes, toiletries, whatever. Makeup, I’m assuming?”

“How are you acquiring all of this?” Wumuti asked quietly.

“I was blessed with a grandma who taught me to manage money, and a job that makes a fair amount for me,” you shrugged. “I would really appreciate it if you could work on paying me back in time, but I know it’ll be a while. Just do what you can, I guess.”

You’re being too soft with him again, your brain chimed in. He’s going to get the wrong idea, think you want him here.

That uncovered a deeper problem in your head.

You had been craving human connection since you’d broken it off with Emery. Emphasis on human, of course, but… here was Wumuti, eyes bright and trained on you as you showed him how to navigate his new electronics, as you talked about getting him set up to live in the city.

No. Stop it. He tricked me. All of this nonsense is because of him… And me not paying attention… But I shouldn’t have had to.

You stopped yourself before your mind wandered into the “why me” territory once more.

“So that’s that for now,” you finished, popping the new phone into the case and handing it to Wumuti. “I have some extra purses and bags if you want to go through those tomorrow, or we can get one for you when we go out tomorrow. Assuming you carry a bag.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes. Shopping, remember? You can’t wear the same thing every day, and I kinda want my Sailor Moon shirt back. You can keep the sweatpants, they don’t fit me anymore. Keeping them to begin with was wishful thinking, but at least they kinda fit you.” 

“Oh, right. Okay. Thank you.”

You showed him how to work the fold-out couch, and even helped him make the bed, tossing the new pillows his way. 

“The divider screens won’t be here until tomorrow,” you informed him. “Please do not come in my room. I put a night light in the bathroom so you'll be able to see.”

“Okay.”

“Another thing, Trogdor tends to wander around at night. Don’t let him bother you. He’s a big boy but if you don’t want him in your space you can just shoo him away.”

“Oh, he’s been quite friendly,” Wumuti said brightly.

“Good. I… kinda had a feeling he’d take to you. Since you’re fae and all. Not to stereotype. But. Yeah.”

“I’ll help take care of him,” Wumuti told you, as Trogdor hopped up onto the fold out, meowing for attention. Wumuti scratched the cat behind the ears, and was met with immediate loud purring.

“Okay. Well, I’m going to wind down and go to bed soon,” you said with a yawn. “If you need something to do, I’d prefer you don’t turn the TV on again because I’ll hear it and I won’t be able to sleep, but there’s a few books down there on the TV stand,” you offered.

You showed him how to use your book light, and left him to his own devices after that with a well-worn copy of Lord of the Rings. You got ready for bed at night speed, and crawled in, pulling the covers up over your head as you curled into a ball, trying to process the events of the day.

This is the most insane thing. Maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow and it’ll all be over. Wouldn’t that be nice?

But as much as you tried to imagine that it hadn’t happened, you knew there was no way it wasn’t real.

And there was no going back now.

You woke bright and early the next morning, tiptoeing out to the kitchen to make coffee. Wumuti was still fast asleep, tangled in the pile of blankets you’d provided. To your surprise, Trogdor was curled up next to him.

That cat is normally so picky. Wow. Guess it really does come with the fae territory. He’s never taken to anyone but me that quickly. What a fucking traitor.

Despite still being thoroughly peeved at Wumuti, you did try to be quiet. As much as you wanted to pick fights, you knew it would only add to your stress. You had no idea how you were going to pull this all off, ultimately.

But you had to try, if for no other reason than maintaining the shreds of your own precious sanity.

Despite your best efforts to stay quiet, Wumuti began to stir as the aroma of the coffee wafted through the small space.

“That smells good,” he mumbled from his blanket nest.

“Do you want some?” You offered before you could stop yourself.

Jeez. If I keep this up he’s going to think I actually like him.

“I think tea, if you have any,” he told you. “I often find coffee too bitter.”

“Well, we have ways of fixing that here, but I can check.”

You rifled through your tiny pantry, and sure enough, you had exactly one box of tea— a gift from your grandmother from when she’d gone on a girls’ trip to Maine the previous fall.

“I have… wild blueberry tea,” you announced. “That’s it. But I need to get groceries too, so we can order more later, I guess.”

“That sounds delicious,” Wumuti told you. “Also… is it okay if I bathe again? Before we leave to go shopping.”

“Yeah, that’s fine, I need to as well. Try not to take too long, don’t use all the hot water,” you warned.

“Is that why it ran cold all of a sudden yesterday? I used it all?”

“Yes,” you sighed, not really wanting to explain the finer points of hot water heaters at 8am. “Just try to be mindful.”

“I will.”

The two of you had not spoken again about what happened. You felt as though he must know better than to bring it up, which was probably wise. You didn’t really feel like expending the energy to blow your top, any more than he probably wanted to be on the receiving end of more of your anger.

You dove back into the “to be donated” bag at the bottom of your closet, coming up with a somewhat plain shirt and skirt combination you hoped might fit him. His build was so slender that you figured you'd have to pin the skirt, but you hoped you could make it work until you got to Macy’s or something, and got clothes that actually fit. You handed them off, and occupied yourself with making breakfast while he was in the shower. Trogdor decided to patrol the area in front of the bathroom, meowing up a storm.

“Oh, I’m sorry, is your new best friend in there?” You asked, somewhat miffed. “You stink.”

The cat meowed back in protest of your insult, going to his food bowl and batting at it forlornly.

“Aha, see, you still remember who feeds you,” you told him as you put another scoop of food in, obscuring the bottom of the bowl once more. “Don’t forget it, either.”

You had a cup of tea waiting when Wumuti got out of the shower, and some eggs and toast. You turned on the TV for him again, feeling almost as though you were trying to entertain a toddler you were babysitting. But hey, if it worked, it worked. He settled in to watch while you got cleaned up and dressed for the day. You opted for shorts and a t-shirt as it was going to be hot again— the summer temperatures had been obscene this year, despite living up north, and you wondered vaguely how the winter would be.

Once you were presentable, and had equipped Wumuti with a bag for his phone and the few other necessities you’d given him— hand sanitizer, a small notebook and pen, a couple portable snack options— you headed out. You made a mental note to stop by a locksmith on the way back home and get a spare key made.

All this work. Lordy. I hope he appreciates it. Wish I could say I appreciated… whatever this is. But no. I was perfectly fine before he came along. Kind of. This is all his fault anyway. I didn’t ask for this.

“Do not wander off,” you told Wumuti sternly. “Like. I know you have a phone, blah blah blah. But you need to stay with me, okay? We have all day, so if there’s something you want or need, just tell me. Don’t go off trying to find it yourself. Even in the stores. Got it?”

“No wandering off,” he promised solemnly. “Trust me, I don’t want to get lost,” he said, looking around with a bewildered expression.

“No, I can assure you that you don’t.”

“Is this place always this overwhelming?” He asked, and you could hear worry in his voice.

“It can be,” you told him. “Which is why you need to stick by me at all times until you’re better acclimated.”

You opted to take the subway to a department store that was just a tiny bit further away, just so you could start getting Wumuti used to actually using the subway. You had to shake him off your arm more than once, and you couldn’t help but feel some smug sense of satisfaction at his seeming fear of the bustling city.

You could only imagine that wherever he was from, it was nothing like this.

Serves him right for tricking me, I guess.

When you reached the store, you led him throughout both the men’s and women’s departments, helping him choose a couple weeks’ worth of clothes, and waiting… a little less than patiently… while he tried everything on. He seemed excited, presumably, at this new sort of adventure. You almost wished you could say the same as you forked over your credit card at the register.

You only nearly lost Wumuti once, in the cosmetics section, and you were quick to haul him back.

“Not here,” you said in a whisper. “We can get you some makeup, but let’s go somewhere else. They’re too pushy here.”

“I noticed,” he said as you shooed him back out onto the street, both of you with armfuls of bags. “Why do they do that?”

“They have a quota to meet, no doubt,” you shrugged. “Don’t ask me, I’ve never worked retail. Speaking of which, do you think you know what you’d want to do?” You asked him as you steered him around the corner towards the nearest Sephora, where you were greeted by a cheerful redhead with a wide smile.

“Hi, welcome in! I’m Haru,” he said brightly. “What can I help you find?”

You looked to Wumuti, who was staring in shock— presumably at the fact that the sales associate standing in front of you also had heterochromia. His right eye was a rich yellow, a sharp contrast to the other’s deep brown.

You had an idea of what might be on Wumuti’s mind. But to you, Haru seemed like a pretty normal young adult, save for his obvious genetic differences.

“It’s the eye, isn’t it?” Haru laughed. “It’s okay. I get this all the time. My whole family has this gene. I’ve taught all my friends not to say a word in front of my mother, because she’s a geneticist and she will absolutely whip out a notebook and start in on Punnett squares with you.”

“That’s hilarious,” you laughed. “No, this is my roommate, Wumuti,” you introduced him, snatching your arm away from him once more. “He just moved here, and we’re trying to get him set up and feel at home. So probably just some basic stuff? Makeup, skin care, what have you.”

“You got it, I can help with that,” Haru grinned again. He had a mischievous smile, as though he held secrets on secrets deep down in his heart. You liked him immediately. You’d seen him here on occasion, but had never spoken with him before.

Wumuti was still glued to the floor.

“Did… is your friend okay?” Haru asked you quietly.

“First time in New York City,” you shrugged. “Hey, are you guys hiring by any chance?”

“We are, actually!” Haru said enthusiastically. “Job applications are online, but I can grab you a paper copy too if you want. They’ll accept either, but they definitely prefer online.”

“That’d be great.”

You wandered the store for a bit as Haru led Wumuti around, picking out products for him. After dropping another chunk of change, you both bid Haru farewell, with Haru sending well wishes and telling Wumuti he hoped to see him again soon.

“He was sweet,” you told Wumuti. “If you got hired there you’d already know someone.”

“You think I could handle working there?” Wumuti asked dubiously. “There were so many people.”

“You gotta work somewhere,” you reminded him. “Now… let’s get back to the apartment, those screens I ordered should be delivered later, and I’d like to be there for that.”

The evening passed in relative silence. You had set up the privacy screens, and then retired to your room to work on a few things in advance of a meeting you had the next morning. Your grandmother had come to the door earlier, and you’d handed off what she’d asked for— a couple utility bills, and a few photos of Wumuti. She assured you she’d handle the rest. Once again, she wouldn’t tell you exactly how, but you figured that was probably for the best. It seemed the less you knew, the better.

About a week later, Lillian was back, this time with Wumuti’s papers and IDs. She begged to come inside and meet Wumuti, but you shooed her away, assuring her you would let them meet when it was the right time. She did happen to catch a glimpse of him through the open door, and waved and called out his name, to which he waved back, obviously confused.

The next morning, you dragged Wumuti from bed to take him to the bank, cursing under your breath and praying that everything went smoothly. You hoped that things would go off without a hitch considering none of your documents were real, and to your utter surprise, no one suspected a thing. You left having set up a checking and a savings account for him, and on the way home, stopped into a corner store to show him how to use his debit card, as well as withdraw cash from an ATM. You'd deposited a respectable amount into each account, and cautioned him about keeping close track of it all.

You were shocked that it had all worked, just like that. Then again, all of the documents you'd received did look 100% real. Whoever Lillian had ties with had definitely outdone themselves. You wondered what kind of favor she’d been owed.

You knew there was no way she would ever tell you.

When you arrived home, the actual fun began again— installing the banking app on Wumuti’s phone and teaching him how to use it, then teaching him about the basics of maintaining a bank account. By the end, you felt like you could use a stiff drink, though it wasn’t often that you drank anymore. You were grateful that he at least took notes— that part was unexpected, but welcome.

Somehow, by the grace of all the gods, he was catching on at lightning speed, despite never having seen or used tech like this in his life— which you supposed must have been a very long life, thus far.

He didn’t talk much on the day to day, and you weren’t sure if that was because you weren’t talking, or if that was just him. But he remained cordial for now, so there was that. You were sure he could still pick up on your displeasure, though if you were being real with yourself, you were kind of enjoying the quiet company.

But only kind of.

It was annoying to share the bathroom, and even more so to share the small space together. You had, at least, finally taken the donation bags to a local charity shop, and cleaned out the small closet next to the bathroom for Wumuti. You moved what little was left into your bedroom closet. Part of you felt like it might be prudent to find a bigger place, considering.

The rest of you was much, much too stubborn for that. Maybe, if you were lucky, Wumuti would give up, find a way to break the bond, and take off.

The rest of you knew this was beyond wishful thinking.

If you were being real with yourself, you knew Wumuti was here to stay.

A few days after your banking escapades, you woke from a fitful sleep, trying to make sense of what you had dreamed. It had been so real— if you hadn’t known for a fact otherwise, you could have sworn perhaps you’d been transported on some astral plane.

It wasn’t like you to have lucid dreams like that, and you were extremely bewildered.

In the dream, you had seen Wumuti, or at least, what you gathered was a younger version of him, sitting on the edge of a small stream, out in the seeming middle of nowhere. Seated across from him was a slim figure of similarly otherworldly beauty— fair skinned, with rich brown curls cascading down their back and around their delicate features. The late afternoon sun glinted in their eyes, one a startling green. You watched as they exchanged words with Wumuti, who threw his head back, laughing from deep in his belly, eyes closed and crinkled up in the pure joy of the moment. Fall leaves drifted lazily around them as they were seated on a soft blanket, the remnants of a picnic long forgotten next to them.

It had been as if you were watching a movie, and try as you might, you couldn’t get any closer, couldn’t see more than what your brain wanted to show you.

But the real kicker was, how had you dreamed this at all? You had sworn you saw another figure, the dark-haired fae, perhaps, on the fringes of your perception, right before the scene had begun to play. You watched as the two of them shared a tender kiss, and you looked away, feeling your cheeks flushing with embarrassment, even in the midst of the dream.

You had awoken with chest heaving, scaring Trogdor off the bed as you scrabbled at the sheets, trying to ground yourself in reality. You clutched your own chest, spreading your palm over your heart, closing your eyes and trying to take deep breaths as you brought yourself back to real life.

Okay, what the fuck was that?

You could hear stirring in the other room, and ignored it, instead crossing to your desk to check your emails. Finding nothing of pressing importance— then again, it was 5am— you made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee.

Your jaw dropped when you opened the fridge. Every single shelf had been rearranged, in a way that made zero sense. Leftover containers in the cheese drawer, blocks of cheese in the door, condiment jars scattered throughout. It was an absolute mess.

You took a deep, measured breath, and let it out slowly. Behind you came furtive giggling from under the covers on the couch.

“You think you’re real fucking funny, don’t you, Wumuti?” You asked. “This… I… what the fuck.”

“You should give me credit,” he huffed as he uncovered his face and peeked out at you. “As fae pranks go, this one was relatively harmless.”

“Harmless? I have a meeting in an hour and a half with clients in Japan. I do not have time to… you know what? You need a day out of the house,” you said matter-of-factly. “Get up. Get ready to go out. Now.”

You weren't going to lie, you were relishing the horror on his face at your words.

“You heard me. Up and at ‘em. You have three tasks today. You need to explore the city. You need to learn to use the subway by yourself. And you need to take that application back to Sephora and ask for an interview. You can call me if you get absolutely lost. Otherwise, you’re on your own today. It’s high time you got out there and started learning in real time.”

“By myself?” He asked, and you could hear the nervousness in his voice. "All alone?"

“By yourself. I’m not going to be there to escort you to work every day,” you said, not even bothering to hide your irritation. “You’re the one who chose to come here, to trick me into… whatever this bond is. Between this and the creeping in my dreams? Which was unappreciated, by the way,” you added, ignoring the confused expression you were now receiving. “Like. Cute memories and all, sure, but can you go be the Scarlet Witch somewhere else? Thanks.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he grumbled as he got up and began to put the sofa back together. “I don’t even know how to dreamwalk.”

“A likely story. Now hurry up. And do not use all the hot water, or I’m changing the locks after you leave.”

“Fine,” he spat. “Have it your way.”

“I usually do,” you replied cooly.

Once Wumuti had gotten ready, dressed, and had excused himself for the day, you felt you could finally breathe a sigh of relief for the first time in a while. You took a quick aside to hop into the aforementioned meeting, with a new client who was looking to expand their business into the US and wanted help setting up a more user-friendly interface for their international clients. Once that was done, you took your time rearranging the fridge, putting everything back in its place.

You nearly screamed when you went into the bathroom, for Wumuti had done the same exact thing with the shower.

Wonder if the fae can die, because I sure am going to kill him before this is all over. What a little shit!

By the time you’d fixed all of his meddling, it was pushing 10am, and you were already exhausted. You decided to take the rest of the day off, and spent it camped in front of the TV with Trogdor, watching old YouTube videos.

In the back of your head, you were plotting ways to get back at Wumuti. You had never been one for pranks, and you knew you’d really have to bring your A-game against a fae creature. You thought about texting your grandmother, but decided against it, knowing she’d just tease you to no end.

Not that Lillian hadn’t been teasing you anyway. But it was a nice thought. The last thing you needed was to read the words 'lovers' quarrel' again from her.

After a few hours of videos, even Trogdor was making you a little crazy, yowling and pacing in front of the front door.

“Oh, do you miss your friend, mister Traitor Trogdor?” You rolled your eyes. “Tell you what. Do you want your ping-pong ball?”

You grabbed aforementioned ball from its hiding place, and Trogdor perked up at once. He followed you to the bathroom, where you tossed the ball into the tub. The cat hopped in quickly, and set to batting the ball around as if it were his mortal enemy. Satisfied, and knowing this would occupy his single brain cell for a while, you moved to your bedroom, laying down and shutting your eyes for just a few.

You slipped into a dream space quickly, but this time your focus was seemingly the point of view of another person— nimble hands rifling through pages of what looked like a spell book. You watched as they ripped a page from said book, replacing it with another and tracing one slender finger down the ripped edges, sealing them as if there had never been a tear at all.

“Rui!”

You heard Wumuti’s voice behind you, and your view changed as the person spun.

“Yes, brother?”

“What are you doing in here?”

“Nothing,” the fae called Rui simpered. “I was just looking for a potion recipe.”

“In my personal library.”

“Come on brother,” Rui said sweetly. “You and I both know that of the two of us, you’re the most adept at brewing potions. I'm just here to sample your expertise.”

“Mmhmm. Regardless, please leave,” Wumuti said in a clipped tone. “I told you that my room was off limits. I've told you many times, for that matter. And you never listen."

“And what are you going to do? Tell Father? ‘Oh, boo-hoo, my sister is bothering me again,’ Rui said scathingly. “He’ll never believe you. He never does.”

You caught a glimpse of Rui in a mirror— much like her brother, she was beautiful. Ageless, genderless. Both of them were the epitome of elegance and loveliness. Rui’s hair was pink, short and curly, and you’d been through enough spats with mean girls at school to know that anyone who acted and looked like her was probably up to no good. You were suddenly detached from her point of view, and watched as she sidled out of the room, followed by Wumuti.

When you looked back to the book, still open on the table to your right, you were startled to see the words written on the page that was replaced.

It wasn’t Wumuti’s fault. — N

You woke again, gasping for air, just in time to hear the click of the front door closing.

“I’m home,” Wumuti called, putting a sing-song emphasis on ‘home’ that made you irritated all over again. 

You marched out to the living room, finding Trogdor now chasing the ping-pong ball around the living room. You scooped it up as he passed, earning a hiss and an angry meow.

“I think that’s quite enough for today, sir,” you admonished the cat. You glanced at the clock, shocked to see it was now half past two.

How long was I asleep? Holy shit.

Wumuti was holding a takeout sack of food, and bearing an exceptionally smug grin. You recognized the logo on the bag as being from the Thai place on the corner.

“So, you made it,” you remarked, rolling your eyes.

“I did. Impressed?”

“Surprised. Did you do what I asked?”

“I did. Haru was at the shop. They hired me. I’m to start next Monday,” he told you.

“Thank god,” you muttered under your breath.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“I brought home food too,” he told you, and now you could hear pride in his voice. You had to admit, you were exceptionally surprised that he had survived the day on his own, and especially so that he’d managed to not only order food, but pay for it successfully.

“I think I’ve had enough food shared by you,” you said with a sour face. "But thanks."

“Does it really matter anymore?” He asked slyly.

“That’s… that’s not the point,” you sighed heavily. “Also, way to rub it in. Also also, you rearranged the shower too? Really? Are you just looking for ways to irk me?”

“Not necessarily. But it is amusing, seeing you get so upset over it. I assume you fixed it?”

“I did. And the fridge. And if you do that again, so help me god, I will kick you out for real,” you threatened. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

“You could just come back—”

“No,” you said vehemently, interrupting what you knew he was going to say. “Absolutely not.”

“Well then, I guess we’re stuck like this, since you’re so stubborn,” he simpered.

“I’m the stubborn one. Okay, sure. You’re the one who came here to begin with and trapped me in a soul bond. Heaven forbid I advocate for myself.”

“All I’m saying is, there’s an easy way out,” Wumuti said as he began to unload the contents of his takeout bag onto the counter.

“Look, just stay out of my head, and we can call it even,” you sighed, your frustration changing to mild alarm as the takeout boxes kept coming. “Uh. How much food did you buy?”

“They had a lot to choose from,” he said, as though that justified the six entrees now stacked in front of him. “I’ll eat it all, don’t worry.”

“You had better. And don’t give any to Trogdor, he’ll have the shits for a week.”

You’d had enough, and retreated to your room, putting your headphones on and pulling out some pencils and a coloring book. You tried to busy your brain, but the dreams you’d had kept creeping back into your head.

Maybe… maybe this is the last step in my going crazy, you wondered.

But one thing bothered you more than anything else. Wumuti claimed he couldn’t dreamwalk, and for some reason, you were inclined to believe him.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Fae, Fae & Fairies, Fae Magic, Tricksters, Bickering, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Teasing, Banter, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Heavy Angst, Grief/Mourning, Bad Memories, Past Trauma, Past Character Death, Patricide, Attempted Murder, Implied Cheating, New Friendships, Hope, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Bonding, gender is made up and the points don't matter, reader is implied queer, References to Depression, Fluff, Original Character Death, references to past abusive relationship, drug abuse mentions, Death Threats, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Cuddling & Snuggling, First Kiss, Falling In Love, Romantic Fluff, Making Out, New Relationship, First Christmas Together, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Relationship Discussions, Fate, Red String of Fate, Multiverse, Astral Projection, Dreamwalking, Shapeshifting, Family Secrets

You took in a deep breath as you stood outside Haru’s door, shivering as a stout wind blew past.. Ordinarily, you’d have let yourself in, but the box you were holding was absolutely not one you felt comfortable putting on the ground considering it had rained for the majority of the week. If something happened to the gift inside you’d scream.

Forever. Literally, probably.

So you knocked again, rang the doorbell, and waited.

At Muti’s begging, Niamh had been carefully monitoring the situation going on in the fae realm— ensuring that there were eyes on the problem, but allowing you more time to recuperate. You had insisted at first that it was fine and also unnecessary. You were good to go.

Haru had promptly challenged you to go on a walk with him that minute, to a location that was six blocks away. You knew before he finished talking there was no way you had the stamina for all that, and had declined. Both Muti and Haru had been smug as fuck about it ever since.

Lovingly smug, at least, but smug nonetheless.

However, they had also taken you on walks every day, gradually increasing the time and length, and helped you with your other physical therapy exercises in the meantime. Lillian came over every day to do some gentle yoga and stretching with you, and as the days passed, you had finally begun to see and feel results.

You were now able to say that you did feel worlds better, though you hated that it had taken a while to get there. You supposed it didn’t matter much in the grand scheme, as Niamh had insisted that the next full moon would be the optimal time to strike, especially given the amount of people now involved.

“It will make traveling much easier,” they’d told you. “We can go earlier if needed, but you needn’t worry about that. Just concentrate on improving your strength.”

Niamh’s reassurances didn’t stop your brain from blaming you, unfortunately.

“What’s in the box?” Haru inquired as he opened the door, a few seconds after you’d given up and started mashing the bell again. “Sorry, I was trying not to burn some fried rice.”

“I thought we were going to order delivery?”

“Well, I’m hungry now,” he laughed as you slipped past him and kicked your shoes off. “Consider it an appetizer. And I made it just how you like. So there.”

“Well then I’m touched. Please lead me to the rice so I can judge for myself.”

Haru had begged you for a sleepover the day before, ‘just like old times,’ before everyone ran off to save the fae realm. You had tried to include Muti, but he had good-naturedly turned you down, much to your surprise.

“Oh, love… I think I’ll stay home,” he’d told you, laughing softly at your exaggerated frown. “Although I appreciate the invitation and the thought, you both need that time. There will be plenty of other times we can all spend together.”

“I mean, we don’t mind including you,” Haru had piped up. “Even though you’re weird and all.”

“No, no, it’s fine, really,” Muti insisted. “I have plans, anyway.”

“Oh?” You asked. “What sort of plans? Should I be concerned?

“Well, if you must know, Lillian and I have a lot to talk about, considering I haven’t seen her in decades. So, mostly that.”

“That is a lot of catching up,” you laughed. “I’m still not sure how I feel about you somehow being best friends with my grandmother. Sounds like a recipe for… a lot of shenanigans.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Nah, not at all,” you giggled. “I’m just going to have to watch myself more. There’s a lot of lovable conspiring in this family as is. It’s cute, don’t get me wrong. But you’re both troublemakers, so…”

“Hey now—”

“Guess we should keep the news on at my place then,” Haru said nonchalantly. “If it’s gonna be Muti and Lillian catch up hours.”

“Hmm, good point,” you mused. “We don’t wanna miss anything.”

“Especially with those two. Maybe we should just call in a tip.”

“Hmm, maybe so,” you nodded.

“What’s all that supposed to mean?” Muti asked, puzzled.

Neither you nor Haru had offered any explanation, purely to tease Muti. You knew he’d wind up asking Lillian, which would make it funnier in the long run anyway.

You had just accepted a bowl of rice from Haru when Muti sent a message to the group chat with the three of you, and you nearly dropped the bowl as you began to laugh.

Muti [7:39pm]: You thought we were going to commit CRIMES?!?!? And be on the news about it?! Are you MAD?!?!?!?

“Do you think he’s always going to be this silly?” Haru wondered aloud.

“Oh, I’m sure,” you nodded. “I have yet to talk to Lillian at length, but apparently this is his baseline. Meanwhile, I’m sure you’d be shocked to know who the biggest little shit of their little group always was.”

“Was it Niamh?”

“Bingo.”

“I believe it.”

Haru [7:42pm]: I mean, BE GAY DO CRIMES and all that. It’s a thing!

Muti [7:43pm]: Can't I be gay *without* doing crimes? This is a prerequisite I was unaware of and I must admit I’m woefully unprepared

You [7:44pm]: Probably? But you probably have to pay more yearly dues to stay in the community. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news :(

Muti [7:45pm]: YOU’RE MAKING THAT UP!!! >(

“Aww, look at him stealing your emojis,” Haru snickered. “Cuuuute.”

“Hush.”

“I take it back. You guys are gross, honestly. Actually.”

“Yes, but at least we own it.”

You [7:46pm]: Muti, I’ve never said a single unserious thing in my whole entire life. EVER.

Muti [7:47pm]: Lillian told me to tell you that you’re full of it :) And I think I know you well enough to know that is NOT REMOTELY TRUE!!!!

You [7:48pm]: Where exactly do both of you think I acquired my skills?

Muti [7:49pm]: Hina and Seiji, according to your grandmother. You and Haru have fun. Lillian says call if you need bail money, whatever that means :p

You shook your head as you set your phone down.

“So how many embarrassing stories do you think Lillian is gonna tell him about us?” You asked Haru.

“Oh, I’d say he’s going to have a lot of ammo to poke fun sooner rather than later. But, considering Lillian has centuries of dirt on him…”

“I love how this family’s love language is just relentless teasing,” you giggled.

“It keeps us interesting. It’s like the soup of the day. Except it’s who’s getting roasted and for what?”

“Oh yeah, because without the teasing our family would be so… dull and normal.”

“That reminds me, I had an idea for you and Muti for a couples’ Halloween costume next year,” Haru said with an impish grin.

“Oh god. Do I want to know?”

“It’s nerdy,” he said in sing-song, knowing you’d have a hard time not inquiring knowing that piece.

“Okay, hit me.”

“Hear me out… Link and Dark Link. From Ocarina of Time. You can be Dark Link, obviously, miss Shadow princess or whatever you are.”

“Now see, that one has layers,” you scowled. “You’re so…”

“Thoughtful? Fun. Endearing? Clever…” Haru volunteered. “Creative? Innovative…”

“Ornery. Hella fucking ornery. But also… yeah, that’s a fun idea,” you admitted. “We will get made fun of to no end, but it’s a fun idea.”

“Well, yeah,” Haru nodded. “But like. Lovingly made fun of.”

“Oh, wait,” you said, snapping your fingers. “We should all be different versions of Link. Like, I accept your cute and also embarrassing idea, but… why not make it a family affair?”

“I like the way you think.”

“I think the other idea for this year was Bob’s Burgers. Which we still need to subject Muti to, actually, and I know he won’t get a lot of the humor…”

“Maybe it would be a good learning tool.”

“Hm, maybe.”

Haru sighed suddenly, gaze dropping to his now empty bowl. You reached over to rub his shoulder reassuringly.

“What’s up?”

“I missed this,” he said softly. “Just… hanging out. Chatting and bullshitting and making fun plans, and doing the plans. Like old times. I missed it so much.”

“Well, fear not, you broke the spell, I’m back to annoy you permanently,” you said cheerily, picking up your phone again. “What are we having for actual dinner? And what are we watching tonight?”

Haru did not answer, and you frowned.

“Hey. Haru.”

“Huh?”

“Are you crying over there?”

“No,” he said, failing to stifle a sniffle. “Uh… okay, maybe. A little bit.”

You gestured that he should get up, and the two of you relocated to the living room sofa. You turned on some music before turning to Haru.

“You know I’m not actually angry at you, right?” You asked gently. “Like, not at all, actually. I get why everyone did what they did. And it wasn’t gonna be permanent anyway.”

“No, I know that. I know I’ll never live it down…” He grumbled. “And you’re literally going to tease me about it for eternity. But it’s only fair I guess. I just… I did miss this. We used to hang out all the time, back before. We were beyond inseparable. We always had been. And of course, it was different in the interim…”

“Was it though? Like, besides the obvious memory things. You and I met again, clicked in three seconds…”

“I guess it is kind of funny that we wound up becoming like siblings regardless,” Haru conceded. “Muti always swore you and I were possibly related somehow because of the way we bickered and joked, and it always absolutely killed me to lie and tell him that I didn’t know you.”

“Well, the universe absolutely was not going to let us be apart to begin with. It was like ‘bitch you thought.’ You really did get bitch slapped by the universe.”

“Yeah… And in the meantime…”

“Hmm?”

“I had to watch you suffering,” Haru sighed, reaching for your hand and clutching it tightly. “I had to watch you go through that whole thing with and about Emery, all alone. Kinda. I’m glad you had Muti, that’s for sure. But it just. It tore me up, watching from the outside,” the younger mumbled, tearing up again in the process. “Like, the aftermath of the breakup, his death, all of it. I wasn’t really there. And especially considering the last time we’d talked it had been a fight about Emery…” Haru sighed. “I wasn’t there.”

“You were, though. You came over on Thanksgiving. It was amazing. It was just what I needed.”

Haru pouted at you, and you reached over to ruffle his hair, earning a giggle and a dimply grin.

“Also, you totally saved my ass when Rui came after me,” you told him, which quickly wiped the grin from his face. “So there’s that. How did you know, anyway? That she was going to attack me, I mean?”

“I just… I had this staggeringly bad feeling,” he told you. “Like the most sudden and absolute worst sense of dread. Worse than any panic attack. Kitsune intuition, I guess you could call it… that’s what my mom said. And I didn’t know what was going on exactly, just that we had to get to you as fast as we could. But… I didn’t exactly save you,” he sighed. “She used my knives on you. If anything, my big old butter fingers fumble made it easier for her.”

“Stop that, you literally got tossed across the room. Stuff happens. Also, in your defense, she was acting like she was auditioning for a Kill Bill remake, so… Uma Thurman eat your heart out I guess.”

“You really don’t hold it against me?”

“Shit happens, Haru. I am alive, so I feel confident in calling it an overall win.”

“Are you going to tell me what’s in the mysterious box you brought over, then?” He asked.

“Oh, did you wanna cry more now? Maybe that’s a better idea than spreading it all out,” you said with an awkward grin.

“You brought me something that’s gonna make me cry?!” He yelped as you handed over the box. “You monster.”

“I mean… Yeah. It’s probably gonna make you cry. But I thought… I should give it to you now. Just in case.”

“Oh come on, not you too,” Haru said with an eye roll. “Muti has been all doom and gloom about the whole faeland thing. He doesn’t think we’re going to win.”

“I think I’m a lot more optimistic than he is. I just… you never know, I guess,” you shrugged as Haru got the box open and pulled out an oversized t-shirt quilt. It had been a labor of love, many hours of painstaking sewing, including hand stitching on various patches you’d collected as accents.

“What in the…”

“It was gonna be a gift for your twenty-first birthday, because you know I’m weird and sentimental like that,” you began, but you stopped when you realized Haru was, in fact, crying again.

“Are… did these all come from that one road trip?” He gulped. “That… that was the best summer. Oh my god… oh my god…” He sniffled as he looked over the different shirts that made up the quiet. “This is amazing.”

“There is a definite possibility that I collected t-shirts from every single tourist trap we went to,” you told him. “There’s even some from stuff we did here in the city. I… I meant to have it done a lot sooner— I’d initially aimed for your eighteenth birthday. I mean hell, we went on that trip when you were sixteen. But… you know… life. Also, it got a bit bigger than I anticipated. That being said, I’ve been working to finish it the last couple weeks, so… ta da! Happy early birthday in… November.”

“I think about that summer all the time,” Haru said absentmindedly, still exploring the quilt and all the different shirts that had been used to make it. “Especially over the last year…”

“I get it. That’s why I wanted to give you this sooner, too. But also… I finished it finally and you know how bad I am about holding onto gifts for a long time.”

The summer in question would always be on the books as one of your best as well. Hina and Seiji had both taken time off to head to Japan to visit family, but Haru hadn’t wanted to go. You’d had no plans as usual, just work. So you’d done what any slightly well off sister would have— taken time off and volunteered to have him stay with you. You had meticulously planned the entire summer— a daily movie matinee program at a nearby theater, Broadway shows, museums, local state parks. It had culminated in a road trip for the history books— a two week long escapade and a sojourn down into the Smoky Mountains.

It was a trip you knew you’d never forget. You knew Haru was the same. Your heart twisted up as you watched him still gently touching each individual shirt logo with a tiny smile on his face.

“We’re building a blanket fort with this thing when we all get back,” Haru said firmly. “But serial killer Barbie isn’t invited this time.”

“She wasn’t invited the first time, either.”

“See? She should take the hint.”

“She strikes me as someone who just immediately dismisses the hint and does whatever the fuck she wants.”

Haru launched towards you, throwing himself into your arms for a tight hug, and you could hear him still quietly crying.

“This is one of the best and coolest gifts I’ve ever gotten,” he mumbled into your shoulder. “From one of the best and coolest people I have ever met. I love you, sis.”

“I love you too, Haru,” you assured him. “Even though you had my memories wiped.”

“There it is,” he laughed, sitting up as he wiped tears from his eyes.

“It really was such a good summer,” you sighed contentedly.

“Oh, for real,” Haru nodded. “And you know, all the places we went were so neat, but some of my favorite memories are just… driving through the mountains in the middle of the day, with the windows down, you blasting Hellogoodbye and us with our cherry limeades. Just… what a…” He stopped as he began to tear up again. “It was the best,” he whispered.

“Hey, you know what’s fun?” You nudged his shoulder.

“Huh?”

“We’re both immortal,” you chuckled. “Time for a new tradition…?”

“Oh my god, are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Haru said suddenly.

“I mean, probably? What are you thinking? Usually dangerous when you’re thinking.”

“Oh hush. We should do another trip! Road Trip 2: Electric Boogaloo. And we should take Muti.”

“Oh, that would be amazing. I’m so in. Same itinerary?”

“Absolutely. We have to take Muti to Dollywood and that is a hill I am willing to die on.”

“I… you’re a goober, Haru.”

“Okay, but picture his reaction…”

You laughed and shook your head.

“Do you think it bothers him that he’s the butt of so many jokes?”

“I actually asked him that once, pretty early on,” Haru said as he grabbed a throw pillow and plopped it down on the couch next to your legs, curling up into a ball and pulling his new quilt over him. “He said he doesn’t really care at all. He finds our banter adorable, apparently. Direct quote. He also said that it’s helped him learn the humor. Not that he doesn’t have a woefully long way to go on that one.”

“In his defense, the universe put that one on extra hard mode when it dropped him into this family.”

“Oh, I know that’s right. Although, when he does come out with a roast, whoever is on the receiving end just gets totally fried. So he’s catching on.”

“True.”

“Have you talked to Lillian yet?” Haru asked, and you frowned.

“Not like, about all the things, no,” you replied, shaking your head. “We’re supposed to have lunch tomorrow.”

“Are you upset with her?”

“No,” you shrugged. “I mean, I’m kind of upset I guess, that I didn’t get the choice in knowing. I would have liked to have known. Like it really explains some things about my life. But also, I guess I kind of get why? I don’t know. From what I saw in her dream, there were a bunch of folk gossiping about my mom and saying how scandalous it was that she ran off with a human and got knocked up. Honestly, I feel worse for Muti. He insists he’s fine, but I can tell it’s bothering him.”

“I’m sure they’ll talk about it tonight,” Haru told you, patting your knee reassuringly.

“Yeah. I wonder if it’s worse for him that he didn’t know she was gone, or if it’s the finding out? They were very close.”

“Yeah, Muti had mentioned that. That’s the weirdest part for me honestly, knowing that Lillian and Muti are close to the same age.”

“Yeah, that’s super weird to wrap the brain cell around too,” you agreed. “And I guess… they’re close to your parents in age too?”

“Closer to Dad, but yeah.”

“Do you wanna watch something?” You asked.

“We could,” Haru sighed. “I guess we still need to order food, too. I’m hungry again.”

“Are you sure that you’re not a hobbit?”

“Says the woman who helped raise me, and who instilled her eating habits in me?”

“I’m sorry, did you just accuse me of turning you into a hobbit?”

“Kind of,” Haru snickered. “Am I wrong?”

“Could be worse I guess. What’s for dinner?”

“We could ask the jar.”

You stared at him, and he shrieked and hid under his quilt.

“I have been tearing my apartment apart looking for that jar since I got my memories back,” you said sternly. “And you still had it? Stinker. I’m going to put it in my safe next time.”

“Well, the last time I took it was before we fought,” Haru sighed, pulling the quilt down to look up at you. “So…”

“Well, I guess that’s fair. Ish.” You shrugged.

“Also? I know the code to that safe,” Haru said nonchalantly. “You gave it to me in case of emergencies. Also? You made a replacement jar!”

“Yeah, but this is the OG. It’s mine. You can have the replacement if you want, though.”

“Nah, I’ll just keep stealing this one. It has all the fun edits and shit. Thanks though.” Haru said with a wide dimpled grin.

“Fetch the decision jar while I decide on a new safe code,” you giggled. “Turd.”

The jar determined that you were having Thai. Haru ordered while you changed into your pajamas. When you got back to the living room, you were surprised to see that Haru was in the middle of constructing a fort in front of the TV, and you laughed.

“Couldn’t wait?”

“Is it too soon?” He winced as he turned around to face you. “Shit, I should have asked. Weird memories and all that ish.”

“Nah. As long as you don’t try to kill me we’re good. This is honestly helpful. Resets the brain pan.”

“Well, it does ruin all my fun I guess,” he sighed, but you didn’t miss his sly grin. “Guess we should turn on a movie instead. Food will be here soon. What are we watching?”

“Back to the Future?”

“All of them?” He asked hopefully, eyes lighting up with glee.

You knew this meant a lot to him. Sure, you and he and Muti had spent many hours together since Muti had come to town.

But it had been well over a year since you and Haru had gotten in some real sibling time. Even though you hadn’t known you were without it, you missed it now with a depth that made your heart ache, and part of you mourned the time you’d spent not knowing that he was family. You knew that it had been hell for Haru as well, though you could tell he was trying to put on a brave face about it for your benefit. He clearly knew you’d be one to beat yourself up over something you hadn’t even had a choice in.

Guess I’ll just have to make up for lost time.

“Hey,” you heard a quiet voice, and realized Haru was now standing in front of you.

“Hi.”

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Just…”

“Everything?”

“Yeah.”

Haru hugged you tightly, and you sighed as you leaned into his embrace.

“I missed you,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

“I missed you more.”

“It’s not a contest, Haru.”

“It is now, I just decided. And I’m always right about this kind of thing, so you should trust me.”

“Ugh. You’re annoying. Maybe I actually can’t stand you.”

“Uh huh. Love you sis.”

“Love you too.”

You were unsure why you were dreading the lunch with your grandmother, but from the second you awoke the next day, you were nervous. You bid Haru goodbye early so you could go home and get ready. Muti was sound asleep in bed, which at the very least allowed you to distract yourself by making him breakfast.

“Darn it,” he said as you woke him up and he took in the tray you were holding. “I had set an alarm so I could make you breakfast.”

“Early bird gets the worm or whatever,” you chirped. “Either way, I win.”

“Can I make you dinner?” He asked hopefully as he rearranged himself in bed so you could set the tray down.

“I’ll allow it,” you nodded.

“You’re going to talk with Lillian today, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” you said with a heavy sigh as you sat down on the bed. “I don’t know why it feels so… I can’t even describe it. Like… my whole life has been kind of a lie? But also… I guess I get why they’d have decided on this for me. But it also seems unfair.”

“Well, as it just so happens, the universe saw to it that you found out,” Muti said with a tiny grin. “Just like it made sure that you and Haru wouldn’t be without each other.”

“Can the universe take a vacation?” You wondered aloud as you stole a piece of bacon off Muti’s plate. “Like just give a girl a tiny break. I am genuinely having trouble keeping up with the shenanigans here.”

“The universe doesn’t look kindly on bacon thieves, so I’d say no,” Muti replied in a grave tone, but he couldn’t hold onto the straight face, and burst into giggles a moment later.

“Well, that’s unfortunate,” you sighed. “Oh well. I’m gonna go shower. What are you up to today?”

“Well, Seiji isn’t working, so he and Haru and I were all going to go to an arcade.”

“Ooh. Have you been to an arcade yet?”

“Haru took me once, but it was a while ago, and at the time it was overwhelming. I think it’ll be fine now. Plus, I’m getting relatively good at some older games.”

“That sounds like a good day.”

“I think it will be. And… tomorrow night…” He mumbled the last part, and your heart sank a bit.

“Ah yeah. Are you ready?”

“No,” he admitted. “But I’m trying to trust that things will work out. The arcade is supposed to be a distraction.”

“Things will work out,” you told him as you leaned in to kiss him on the cheek before you got up.

“You think so?”

“I know so.”

As you departed, you managed to steal another piece of bacon, scampering out the door before you could be caught, giggling at Muti’s howl of protest as the door clicked shut behind you.

You arrived early to Lillian’s, unable to quell the nervous energy and make yourself wait. The two of you had already put it off long enough— Lillian had told you to take your time thinking about things, if you needed it.

Unsurprisingly, you had, but you’d finally reached out to her to schedule the lunch, and now here it was, and your heartbeat was roaring in your ears once more.

To your surprise, your grandmother was sitting on the sofa in the living room, a box of tissues on her lap as she sniffled quietly.

“Hey,” you said gently, dropping down to sit next to her. “What’s going on?”

She answered you with a bone-crushing hug, as she began to sob into your sweater.

“I am so sorry,” she choked out. “I…”

“Don’t be,” you whispered. “I think I get it. All of it.”

“I should probably start using my powers for good again,” she said, clearing her throat as she sat up and wiped her face.

You sighed.

“You know what? It was probably all meant to happen like this,” you told her. “The more I mull over it, the more everything just makes a weird kind of sense.”

“I… hadn’t thought about it like that,” Lillian said quietly, pursing her lips. “I thought you didn’t really believe in fate,” she chuckled.

“Well, let’s just say my worldviews have changed a bit since last summer,” you said, rolling your eyes as you showed her the current state of your wrist.

Lillian was cackling now, and you supposed you couldn’t even be put out that you were the butt of the universe’s joke, because at least she wasn’t crying. You could probably count on one hand the number of times you’d seen her upset and crying openly about it. She had always very much been the mostly-fearless leader of the whole family, the keystone that held everyone together.

You waited a moment for her to calm herself, and she finally did, reaching out to take your hand to give it a squeeze.

“I wished every day that I could tell you,” she admitted. “I really did. I’ve known you were immortal since you turned eighteen, but… I suppose I was trying to wait as long as possible until I had to tell you the truth. I knew you would have questions that I couldn’t really answer. Part of me also worried, I suppose, that you would ask about going to the fae realm. Which shouldn’t have been a worry at all, but I knew the state I left it in, and I couldn’t imagine it had gotten any better after I departed. And now that I know what actually happened…” She sighed.

“When were you going to tell me? Since you said you’d decided you would if I turned out to be immortal?” You asked, taking your hand back only so you could wrap yourself in a blanket. Lillian held up a hand, and excused herself for a few minutes, returning with a cup of coffee for you.

“I can’t believe I didn’t have coffee ready for you when you got here,” she muttered.

“I’ll forgive you this one time.”

“I was going to tell you when you noticed you stopped aging. And you have stopped,” she added. “I noticed that a while ago.”

“Huh? I have?”

“Oh sweetie. Yes, you very much have.”

She pulled out her phone, poring over her photos app, and turned the phone to show you a picture of yourself from many years prior. After you’d had a moment, she pulled up another, of you and Muti the previous year at Christmas.

God damn. She’s right! Why didn’t I notice?! God. I guess everything has been so crazy, especially the last couple years, I just never paid attention at all.

“I have to wonder how much longer we might have gone, if Muti hadn’t shown up,” Lillian said softly. “He has a penchant for unintentionally perfect comedic timing. I had actually begun to wonder if I should tell you sooner rather than later, just a few days before he happened in. But then Hyun turned up in Haru’s dream, and so I stayed silent. And I am sorry.”

“I had always thought it was weird, the way you just automatically accepted what I’d told you about the fae king busting in through my bathroom mirror…” You said slowly. “Like… you did, just no questions at all.”

“Sweetie. I gave you that mirror. I’m sure you can guess by now where it was from.”

“What? Wh… why would you… It was yours? Like, from the fae realm, yours?”

“It used to hang in my room, yes. I brought it with me when I came here. When you eventually did find out about your heritage, I wanted you to finally be able to make the decision, if you wanted to see the fae realm at all. Regretfully, it seems as though halflings are still a matter of contention in some circles. Or at least, they were, just before Muti left to come here.” Lillian frowned and sighed deeply. “Some old stupid things never change, and I hate it.”

“Well, maybe after our little take-back mission, some changes can be set in motion,” you said slowly.

Lillian began to laugh again and you swatted her in the shoulder.

“Stop laughing at me,” you grumbled, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

“Never. I cannot… I cannot believe… It’s just so genuinely insane, the way things unfolded.”

“How come?”

“Because the years after the Shadow War were very difficult,” Lillian whispered. “Wumuti went straight from losing his father and his partner in the same day, to becoming king, to having to direct the realm in a war that his sister helped to start. And he was only fifteen. We won, but there were so many casualties. The king and Niamh had only been the first. It took a very long time to rebuild, especially for Muti, and he was never truly happy again, that I ever saw or could tell. He went through the motions for the sake of his people, but that was about the extent of it.” She sighed again heavily. “I was so worried about him. We had become so close, and moreso after Niamh died.”

“Close like…?”

“No, no, nothing romantic. I’ve always seen Wumuti as a sibling, if anything. Which works out well, considering he was apparently destined to be your sweetheart,” she teased. “So it was easy to just auto-approve him on that first day you told me he had come here.”

“Shush. It always struck me as so weird, how you were just like ‘sure okay cool’ when I told you the king of the fae had shown up in my living room that morning. I should have suspected.”

“It was definitely unexpected. I almost gave myself away in my shock, truth be told.”

“Dang. I could have known a lot sooner…”

“Anyway, a long while after I’d left…” Lillian continued, “your mother contacted me, in the middle of having an absolute meltdown in a drugstore bathroom in Queens. She’d just taken a pregnancy test, and it was positive,” Lillian told you. “And she had no idea what to do.”

“Interesting that that would work for her…” You wondered aloud.

“Seiji and Hina agree with you there. But it did, and she was. She had met a human and fallen in love. There was no way she could have brought you back though, and… your father wasn’t keen on raising a child, as it was. So it was up to me to make sure you were raised by family.”

“My father just wanted to… put me up for adoption?”

“Essentially, yes,” Lillian nodded. “The trade off instead, since I came to the rescue, was that he left a sizable amount of money for us. It bought this apartment, helped get me off the ground with my business…”

“Wait, so where…”

“I’m not telling you were I get my documents, love. You might as well stop asking.”

“Boo.”

“Nice try.”

Lillian got up and excused herself again for a few, and you heard her tinkering in the kitchen. She returned with a plate of scones and yet more coffee.

“Time for a little pick me up,” she said cheerily. “Chocolate orange. I made them this morning.”

You thanked her as you snagged a scone and a napkin, and settled back in as she returned to her story.

“It was a difficult time for me. It had always been at least lightly disputed, that I was a member of the high court. And there have always been fae with a certain disdain for halflings, which I’m sure in itself isn’t surprising to you— some things are the same in any realm. But my mother had been on the court before me, and she had served the king in the same role that I later filled for Muti. So…”

“So?”

Lillian shifted on the couch, pulling her knees up to her chin and sighing as she rested her head.

“Naturally, your mother being pregnant by a human was doubly sensational gossip given my status and where our family is from. And I had to make my choice before Muti found out, because that was the only way I could keep him from mourning someone else. If I left right away, wiped or altered everyone’s memory of me, then he would cry himself to sleep over one less person. I… I didn’t even have enough time to find someone to take my place. My husband, your grandfather, had died decades prior in a skirmish with some Shadow folk. Wumuti was… hmm. How to put it…”

“Not very pleasant to be around?”

“Maybe prickly is a good word,” Lillian sighed. “Around the point in time when I found out about you, he was deep in a spiral. He was so lonely, and instead of seeking out people who could help, he just turned inwards and pushed everyone away. I was more or less the only person he’d spend time with at all. When I cast that memory spell, he was sleeping in the very bed that he’d always shared with Niamh. He was just never able to move on from the past. But I knew… that if he found out about you, he would have either insisted that I bring you anyway, or he would have told me to go to you. So he might have lost me anyway… hence why I wanted to make it as painless as I could for him. There was no way I could subject you to a life of unnecessary extra scrutiny, not to mention the downright mean girl attitudes that a lot of fae folk have regarding halflings, as I’d mentioned. And then there’s the attitude towards the Shadow folk in general. There were a great many of us who found asylum in the fae realm, but old grudges are not so easily broken. Leaving was the only viable option for me, if I wanted to make sure you were safe and well cared for.”

“So you wanted to protect me from fae Regina George and the fae Plastics.”

“Essentially, yes.”

“But you also wanted to protect him, hence the memory thing.”

“Of course. I’d known him since we were children. I met him before Niamh did,” she bragged with a quiet laugh. “Although not long… Goodness, they’ve really had their hands in everything here, haven’t they? Not that I can say I’m surprised. Niamh was always the ringleader when it came to any sort of trickery we all got up to together. I shouldn’t be surprised that they began skulking from day one.”

“They’re an odd duck,” you laughed. “But I guess they’re pretty okay. Don’t tell them I said that though, they might start to think I like them.”

“Do you not get along?” Lillian asked, suddenly concerned.

“On the contrary, I think they’re delightful.”

“They could be here now, you never know. Your secret is toast.”

“Nah,” you said, shaking your head. “There’s too many creaky floorboards in here. We’d know.”

“Hm?”

“They were creeping on me and Muti a while back when we were here,” you explained. “Stepped on the super loud floorboard in my room. Twice in a row.”

“The one you specifically labeled so Muti wouldn’t step on it? With neon cardstock?”

“Yes, that’s the one.”

“Unbelievable. Clearly didn’t pay attention in ghost training. Shameful.”

“Is it weird that my life feels like a Twilight Princess remake?” You asked.

“No. Honestly, that seems like a fair comparison,” Lillian told you. “Right down to Hyun trying to merge the realms and take over.” She patted your arm. “Maybe you’re Midna, instead of Merida. I’ll have to update your contact.”

“Muti is so worried about the outcome of all of this,” you mumbled. “I… I’m not really sure what to expect, but I’ve been trying to keep a brave face on for him. He doesn’t even know the entire plan… there are bits of it that Niamh wanted to keep a secret, because they knew it would probably make Muti even more anxious.”

“Understandable. Niamh’s told me everything, so I know you’re right. Muti would have a fit. What’s more, I imagine this is bringing up a lot of old memories for him. I have faith though. Niamh has been concocting this plan for a good long while, and they’re not one to half-ass anything.”

“They have always struck me like the full-ass sort,” you chuckled. “Go big or go home.”

“With Niamh, it’s only go big. The going home happens after you win.”

“That sounds right.”

“Will you forgive me?” Lillian asked. “I kept so much from you, not even counting your memories of the Kato family. I think if I were you I’d be hopping mad.”

“Like I said,” you shrugged. “I get why you had to do it— all of it. Raising me as human, keeping me on Earth, wiping my memories. Fate had a very specific game plan, I guess.”

“Fate,” Lillian giggled.

“Oh, hush.”

“I love you,” she said, reaching over to drag you into a tight hug. “Promise you won’t hold it against me?”

“I love you too. I’ll hold an abbreviated grudge. How’s fifty years?”

“Hm. Thirty?”

“Forty-two, final offer.”

“Done.”

Lillian stood up and smoothed her dress before reaching out a hand to help you to your feet.

“Shall we go to lunch? My treat.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

You and Lillian went straight from stuffing yourselves at lunch, to the Asian market next door to stock up on snacks, before returning to her apartment and hunkering down on the fold out with the TV on. You had been lamenting for weeks about how Rui had interfered in your Gilmore Girls rewatch, which had been more or less a yearly thing for you for a while. Hina had been the one to blame for you picking up that tradition, and the two of you and Lillian usually watched it all together.

“God, I hate Dean,” Lillian huffed as the current episode ended.

“Oh ugh, me too,” you nodded, reaching for the honey butter chips. “It’s just. He gross enough at baseline and then every single time I watch the show I hate him more. And then I’m like… wow, I don’t think I could possibly hate him more.”

“And then you watch again and do?” Your grandmother asked.

“Exactly,” you snickered.

“Hellooooo!” Came a loud voice from the entryway, and you jumped, even though you recognized its owner as Seiji immediately.

Not a second later, Seiji, Hina, Haru, and Muti were standing in the doorway to the kitchen, peering out at you and Lillian on the fold out, surrounded by pillows, blankets, and snacks.

“Channeling your inner Lorelei and Rory while watching Gilmore Girls?” Haru smirked. “That’s cute.”

“It’s not like this isn’t a regular occurrence,” Hina piped up. “You’ve been known to join in too, don’t forget that.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Haru laughed.

You got up and began to pick things up so you could put the couch together. Muti was quick to gravitate to you, pulling you in for a hug and a quick kiss.

“Hi,” you said softly. “How was the arcade?”

“I think Seiji is never going to forgive me for kicking his butt at half the things we played,” Muti chuckled.

“Uh oh. Did you crush his fragile ego again?”

“I heard that,” Seiji laughed, coming up to give you a hug himself. “And yes, he did,” your godfather sighed heavily. “On more than one game.”

“Do you still have that old Atari?” You asked. “The one I gave back to you?”

“Yes, it still works, too,” Seiji said with a twinkle in his eye as he stared Muti down. “Next time we have a family dinner at our house…”

“I wasn’t expecting all of you to drop in,” Lillian said as she put the cushions back on the couch and sat down, and was immediately joined by Hina. “A pleasant surprise.”

“We thought perhaps it would be good for the family to spend the evening together before our big trip tomorrow,” Hina said quietly. You knew she knew Muti was still feeling in a way about it, and you felt him take your hand and lean into you, breathing in deeply as he buried his face in your hair.

“Hm, yes, I like that idea,” Lillian nodded. “So what did you all have in mind?”

“Dinner,” Hina said, and you and Lillian both groaned loudly.

“No dinner yet,” you lamented, patting your tummy. “Food evil.”

“Agree, no dinner. Dinner later,” Lillian nodded. “I won’t be of much use to the group if I’ve gone and exploded.”

“Okay, dinner at some point,” Hina said with a fond grin.

“Movie?” Seiji asked.

“Video games,” Haru suggested. “More video games.”

You felt Muti perk up beside you, and giggled.

“Haru, I think you’ve created a monster.”

“Not true, I can quit whenever I want,” Muti huffed.

“That’s what you said about the Valentine’s candy that you somehow still ate all of even though I hid it from you,” you told him. “But you know what? You wanna throw down again? Let’s go.”

“Let’s play Mario Kart,” Lillian suggested. “Or are you all still hyper-fixated on Smash?”

“I don’t know, it doesn’t matter to me,” you shrugged as you sat down next to Hina, and Muti wedged himself in beside you, half on your lap, and melted against you. “Muti, do you feel like losing Smash Bros some more, or would you like to lose at something else?”

He didn’t answer, and you poked him in the side.

“Hey!”

“Are you okay?” You asked, dropping your tone. He nodded, but it was halfhearted.

“Yes.”

“It’s gonna be okay.”

“Okay.”

“Are we doing this tournament style?” Seiji asked. “Or just loser hands off to someone else until we’re all tired of losing to the queen?” He winked at you.

“I guess it depends on what Muti wants to play,” you said gently, nudging him. You could tell he was in his head. “Hey, you.”

“Smash,” he said, blinking a few times as he zoned back in. “Sorry.”

“So, losing more at that. Gotcha.”

“I’m going to beat you today,” he said determinedly. “I can feel it.”

“Are you sure that’s not just heartburn from the two huge chili cheese dogs you ate earlier?” Haru asked. “How many times did you say she beat you the other day?”

Suddenly, Muti got up, and began to busy himself with turning the TV back on and setting up the game.

“Hellooooo, how many times did you lose?” Haru asked, and you could hear the grin in his voice. “Fess up, bestie.”

“Twenty-seven,” Muti mumbled. “…In a row.”

“Damn. Savage.”

“The number alone wasn’t the worst part,” Muti said as he returned to the sofa. You and Hina and Lillian relocated to other seats as Haru and Muti took the couch to play the first round. “She really had me thinking I was going to win that last round we played.”

“Yep, and then I turned around and absolutely crushed him on my last life and like 100% damage,” you said proudly. “No regerts, would do it again.”

“Mean,” Muti said with a pout as Lillian gave you a high five.

“Hey! Whose side are you on, Lilliana?”

“Oh no, not the old government name,” she sighed. “Just for that, I’m especially on my granddaughter’s side, thank you very much.”

“Ha ha,” you teased. “I win. Granddaughter privileges override best friend ones.”

“Hmph.”

You waited to cycle into the gameplay until everyone had had a turn, knowing once you started everyone else was toast. Muti went last against you, and talked an enormous game, which made it that much more satisfying when you laid him out in front of the whole family.

“Do you still love me?” You asked him as you punted his character off the map yet again on a one-hit KO.

“Hmm,” he sighed. “I might have to start reconsidering.”

“What if I let you win?” You turned to him, and watched his expression grow hopeful.

“Really?”

“No,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as he shook his head and leaned in to kiss you.

“Just one time?” He pouted as he pulled away.

“Hmm,” you murmured as you turned back to the game.

Thirty seconds later you won the round, and Muti tackled you on the sofa, tickling your sides and giggling as you cackled.

“Muti!” You wheezed. “EEK! You… hey! This is not fair!”

He had your arms pinned now, and try as you might, you could not get loose to turn the tables.

“You guys are gross,” Haru called out above the cacophony of your shared laughter.

Muti finally stopped, helping you back to a sitting position as he slipped an arm around your waist and pulled you close.

“Are you ever going to let me win?” He asked with a slight pout still.

“I will consider it. I’ll get back to you in twelve to fifteen business years.”

“Years?!”

“Should we start thinking about dinner?” Hina piped up. “I’m getting hungry.”

“Good idea,” Seiji nodded. “And then maybe… we should all take a drive.”

“Are you suggesting we go to that park after hours again?” Muti asked suspiciously, and Lillian snorted.

“You are awful hung up on rules and propriety considering how much trouble we all used to get up as kids.”

“Oh really?” You asked, and Lillian gave you a dastardly grin.

“Oh yes,” she said, and Muti groaned loudly.

“We don’t need to discuss any of that,” Muti muttered.

“No, but we will,” Lillian cackled.

Seiji drove to the park this time, as his was the obligate overly large family vehicle. After the customary stop at the gas station on the way, the six of you were finally settled into a soft pallet of blankets under the light of the very-nearly-full moon. Off to the side in a bare space, Seiji and Haru started a small fire, which Lillian then cast a spell to conceal from any humans who might be wandering around.

You watched all of this with deep amusement as Wumuti silently lost his mind over it. After many reassurances that the family had been ‘breaking into’ the state park for over a decade at least with nary a worry, he had calmed down on that front.

But once Hina had suggested making s’mores, Muti was on edge again, having seen the numerous signs warning against food and wildlife. He had already been uptight about the fire.

“We’ve done this a million times,” you murmured, pulling him closer with one arm around his waist. “It’s seriously fine. We are extremely overly careful. Are we still stupid? Probably. But we’re also doing some crazy shit tomorrow, so I think we’ve earned this.”

“Yeah,” was all he said, burrowing his head into the crook of your neck. “Okay.”

“You better perk up a bit when we get to faeland,” you told him. “I… it doesn’t look very pretty right now,” you said, biting your lip. “But we’re going to fix that. And then I expect the full tour,” you told him firmly.

“Family vacation in faeland,” Hina said brightly, and Muti grumbled.

“You’re all just going to call it that now, aren’t you?” He said hotly, sitting up to give you a stare as you began to giggle silently, your entire body shaking as you tried to stay quiet.

“Don’t tell me you’re surprised by this,” Haru chimed in.

“Lillian,” Muti said pleadingly, and she glanced over at him with a saccharine smile.

“I can’t wait to go back to faeland.”

“Augh!”

“Hey, is there a dress code for tomorrow?” Seiji asked, and you saw as he gave Muti a sly side eye.

“I— what?” Muti asked, clearly puzzled. “Why would there be a dress code?”

“It’s faeland?” Seiji failed to hold back his laugh, and Muti snorted.

“If I’d have thought of it I could have made matching t-shirts,” Haru sighed. “Taking Back Faeland” or whatever. Or I guess we could raid Lillian’s Lord of the Rings stuff.”

“Haru…” Muti squeaked.

“I love you bestie!”

“Hmph.”

Once Muti discovered that Haru and Seiji were making s’mores using the variety of candy bars they’d picked up at the gas station, he was unsurprisingly a lot more chill.

“This is handy information,” you murmured. “If you’re twisty I just have to buy you some candy.”

“Hey now, not necessarily,” he fussed, and you laughed, reaching over into the candy pile and grabbing something, handing it to Muti.

“Sorry I kicked your ass at video games again but here’s a Snickers bar. Are we good?”

“I am going to beat you someday,” he affirmed.

“Look, I’m not the one who just saw god because of a Reese’s s’more. I’m just logging this away for future use. Not necessarily in case I have to appease you on anything.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, okay, maybe in case of that too.”

“Don’t let him fool you, sweetheart,” Lillian said softly. “Back in the day, Wumuti was one of the biggest shit-stirrers in the castle.”

“I was not!”

Lillian fixed him with her most intense glare, and you clapped a hand over your mouth as you began to laugh again, as Muti wilted in front of you.

“Does the Winter Solstice celebration the year we turned ten ring any bells?”

“Oh dear,” Muti said in a tiny voice. “You… remember that.”

“Of course I do,” Lillian said with a smirk. “I doubt there’s anyone living who doesn’t.”

“I am all ears,” Haru said, suddenly on your other side, and you yelped.

“Hey!”

“Oops, sorry sis.”

“It’s fine. Go on, Lillian,” you said, gesturing for her to continue, continuing to laugh quietly as Muti was already withering away in embarrassment next to you.

“Wumuti’s mother lived to throw a party. It’s honestly where I acquired my own skills,” Lillian began, giving a small nod to the sky above. “And the solstice celebrations were her favorite times of year.”

“Did you have to tell this story?” Muti wailed, quieting when you elbowed him.

“Oh, now. It’s not like anyone here is going to tell anyone. Niamh and I were the only ones who ever knew it was you that caused the entire ruckus.”

“Are there still folk who talk about that party?”

“I’m sure of it,” Lillian giggled. “We could ask Niamh…”

“Okay, fine…” Muti sighed. “Go on.”

“Anyway, as I was saying,” she chirped, “the queen’s biggest celebrations were for the solstices, and she especially loved the winter.”

“I still maintain she deserved it,” Muti mumbled, and Lillian nodded.

“Oh, I agree.”

“So, what happened?” Seiji asked.

“These parties were essentially planned in rotation. As soon as the summer solstice was over, planning for winter began, rinse repeat. And the year we turned ten, Wumuti and his mother got into a rather heated argument, just the night prior.”

You wondered vaguely what the argument had been about, but chose not to ask, and Lillian did not volunteer the information, nor did Muti.

The day of the party,” Lillian went on, “it was absolute chaos. Wumuti had spent the entire night re-writing the entire seating chart, changing the entire menu. All of it in his mother’s handwriting by a magical pen meant for forging. And if that weren’t enough, he changed the colors of the decorations with an irreversible spell that didn’t reveal itself until everyone was seated.”

“Oh my god,” you cackled. “Muti. I… Wow.”

“She always suspected it was him,” Lillian laughed, “but she could never prove it. It was one of the most legendary parties ever to grace Harmony Hall. The amount of people you sat next to each other who hated each other was, honestly, diabolical,” Lillian wheezed.

“Ah, yes, there was that fight,” Muti murmured.

“Oh my god, yes,” your grandmother managed to get out as she struggled to keep her laughter quiet.

“You caused a fight?!” You hissed.

“Several actually,” he replied, cringing. “But the one I’m remembering was the one between a couple of folk on the lower court who had not been getting along for weeks. Something about someone they both fancied, some sort of love triangle, perhaps. It wound up with both of them in the courtyard fountain, drunk and half naked and screaming at each other.”

“How…”

“It was a fae party,” Lillian said curtly, as if that should have been enough explanation. You could see Haru thinking it through, and he opened his mouth, only to shut it again promptly.

“But wait, so did they start… rage making out?” Hina asked. “Just… curious. For no reason.”

“I’m curious too, also for absolutely no reason,” Seiji said, his expression priceless.

“I believe so?” Muti nodded. “My mother was absolutely beside herself. All of the changes I’d made had been in her script, and no one could tell it apart from her own writing. Everything I’d done was supposed to be untraceable. And I had had an excellent tutor when it came to such spellwork…”

“Tutor,” Lillian snickered, and it took you a second to realize she meant Niamh, as Muti curled up into an embarrassed ball once more.

“Hush, you.”

“They taught you an awful lot of Shadow magic, didn’t they?” She asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“They did,” Muti said quietly. “Probably more than they should have. But I can’t say it hasn’t been useful.”

“Wait, wait, hang on,”  you interjected, holding up a hand. “Is Niamh…?”

“Shadow folk,” Lillian nodded. “Was that not obvious?”

“Oh, yes, my bad, my loads of experience with the fae came in super handy and I was able to identify that right away actually,” you said sarcastically. “Oh, wait…” You stuck your tongue out at Lillian, and she laughed.

“Well, now you know.”

“I guess it explains a lot. But…”

“The blue eyes is a royal family thing,” Lillian told you before you could ask. “Did you want yours back?”

“I don’t know yet,” you shrugged. “Maybe?”

“You could pick a different color too,” Muti murmured. “A lot of fae change their appearances using magic.”

“What is this, the Emerald City?” You snickered.

“Sweetheart, how do you think I’ve maintained perfectly colored hair?” Lillian asked. “My natural color is the same as yours.”

You stared at her blankly. You had never seen her natural hair color. Hell, you’d never even seen her roots.

“So. You just let me pay for my hair color for years and you’ve been over here, Miss Perfect Roots Always and you didn’t say a word? The betrayal,” you sighed, shaking your head.

“No but that’s a real one,” Haru grumbled. “Damn. We’ve been missing out.”

“So what is the exact plan tomorrow?” Hina asked, abruptly changing the subject. “Sorry,” she added as she saw Muti wince.

“It’s okay,” he said, laying down next to you and resting his head on your lap. You reached down to run your hands through his hair. You briefly wondered if he’d been keeping it red with magic all this time now. It never seemed to fade, and you knew from experience that red was extremely hard to maintain.

“The full moon is tomorrow night. We’re going to use my old mirror. It’s been… interesting,” Lillian giggled softly, “but I’ve managed to set up everything we need within the storage unit where I stored the mirror after Rui attacked. Niamh and I have ensured everything is ready. We’ll be transported into Muti’s old bedroom, and we’ll go from there. But… all of us are backup,” she said grimly, nodding at you. “My darling granddaughter gets to run the show.”

“Wait, huh?” Seiji gasped. “What do you mean, backup? This sounds a lot more dangerous…”

“Niamh and I are the ones who are going to try to lure Rui and Hyun,” you admitted, cutting Seiji off. You were still careful to skirt the exact details— namely, Niamh planning a ride-along in your body. “Muti is going to brew a tea that I’m going to take as a peace offering. “I’m going to tell them that I’m done and I want out, get them arguing, and then when they’re distracted it’s Niamh’s time to shine, and they’re going to yeet them into the Shadow mirror and then break it so they can’t get back.”

“Seems simple enough,” Haru shrugged. “So we get to just… hide out in case we’re needed? That sounds boring.”

“I’ll give you a little tour afterwards,” Lillian promised. “And I know the castle better than anyone,” she winked.

“It just seems too simple,” Muti mumbled. “I don’t know. I have a bad feeling.”

“I know,” you whispered, rubbing his shoulder.

“None of you have to do this,” he said, slightly louder.

“No, yeah we do,” you argued. “So there.”

Muti sat up and turned to face you.

“But you said you didn’t want to go to the fae realm.”

His expression told you that he was fully aware that he’d asked something slightly awkward in front of the whole family, and you could see him trembling.

“Well, I changed my mind,” you said, biting back tears. “You’ve told me so many stories… I want to see it for myself. And not just in dreams. But… like I said. We gotta fix it first. And stop Hyun from pulling a Loki.”

“Stop,” Haru laughed.

“No, for real,” you countered. “Like, they’re trying to pull some kinda weird fae multiversal domination.”

“Honestly, I think Loki would find their plans not performative enough,” Lillian said quietly.

“Wait, huh—” Haru started. “How—” 

Lillian cut him off with a sly grin and a chuckle.

“Who wants more snacks?”

Seiji had dropped you and Muti off at home after a late-night family breakfast, and the two of you made it as far as the couch before flopping down, tired and full and more or less content.

“What a day,” you murmured. “So full. Oh god. Evil, evil food."

“Mmhmm,” Muti nodded, slumping onto your shoulder. “I think I ate too many pancakes.”

“Same. Like the second two was a foolish venture and I did it anyway just like I always do and boy do I have regrets.”

“Shower?” He asked, taking your hand.

“No. Moving evil too,” you grumbled.

“You’ll feel better after,” he told you gently.

“Okay, fine.”

You let Muti help you into a warm shower, and then into bed after a cup of tea.

“You’re awfully quiet,” you observed. “What are you thinking?”

“I know,” he nodded. “I don’t know what to say. I’m just…”

“Worried,” you finished his sentence for him as you pulled him closer. “I know this all seems like a lot. To me it seems like something out of a movie, honestly, which might be why I’m not going fully insane. Yet, anyway. But I meant what I said.”

“You really want to see the fae realm?”

“Of course I do. It’s been a while since I put up my refusal,” you told him. “You’ve told me so many stories since then. And… considering the fact that what your sister and Hyun are doing isn’t really good for the entire space-time continuum… It’s a win-win.”

“We have to win first.”

“We will win. You worked retail in New York City at Christmas. You finished school in record time despite starting late. You can show up your sister. Hell… you’ve already done so once, when you were a literal teenager. Plus… you won’t be alone. You get your own special crew of weirdos to help you. The best and brightest weirdos, actually.”

“Well, this is a little bit bigger stakes than school was,” he sighed. “Although you may have a point when it comes to the retail job. I just… I’ve been away a very long time. I worry about my magic…”

“Lillian’s is still good.”

“Lillian isn’t tied to the realm like I am.”

“Oh.”

“Is there something that you know that we don’t?” You asked, and he shook his head.

“No, nothing like that. In all honesty, Niamh’s plan sounds like a good one. But everything will have to be just so.”

“And it will be. We should try to sleep though,” you urged him. “For science and all.”

“Are you sure you feel up for this?” He asked with a sigh as the two of you settled in under the covers.

“Yes,” you nodded, leaning in to kiss his forehead. “Absolutely. And you should know by now you can’t talk me out of it.”

“But—”

“Nope,” you said, catching his lips in a tender kiss. “No more of that. Not tonight."

“You’re right,” he sighed reluctantly, reaching over to pull you closer. “Guess I’ll have to expend all this excess energy loving on you.”

“Mushy,” you teased, and you caught the twinkle in his eyes from the moonlight filtering through the blinds.

“Yes. But you love me.”