#wonho fics

You shook your head. “I mean, I wasn’t the one who called. One of my neighbors must have. But yes, it’s my cat in the tree.”

“Ah,” his smile was back.

“What I mean is, I’m sorry you were called for this. I’m sure there’s more important things for you to be doing right now.”

You again needed to remind yourself to breathe as he smiled. “It’s no problem. You’d be surprised how often I am helping animals out of strange places. Can you show me which tree?”

Honestly, he could’ve asked you to punch yourself in the face and you would’ve done it. You pushed open the screen door and walked to the tree in the center of your yard. On cue your cat howled again.

His smile never faltered as he looked at the black mass in the tree. “Looks like it chickened out in coming down after getting itself up there. What’s its name?”

“Uh . . .” more embarrassment. His name was a joke between you and your sister. Saying it out loud in front of this handsome stranger . . . maybe you could still punch yourself in the face.

“No name?”

You blushed and wiped sweat from your forehead. “It’s Captain Buttercrust.”

His smile grew bigger and he looked up the tree again. “Don’t worry Captain B. I’ll have you down in no time.” He looked back to you. “I think just the ladder for this one.”

“You can do that? Carry him in one arm and go down the ladder?”

He smirked, looked at his arm muscles, which made you look at his arm muscles, then he looked back to you. “Easy peasy.”

He grabbed a ladder off the truck. He made it look like it weighed nothing.

Your neighbors got braver and made their way into your yard to watch as the fireman climbed up the ladder towards the cat. They all commented on how attractive and brave he was.

Captain Buttercrust backed away as far as he could on the branch from the man, then dug his claws in the tree when the man grabbed for him. The cat was no match for those muscles.

The fireman lifted him easily with one hand, brought the cat closer to his chest so it wouldn’t flail and scratch, then climbed down the ladder one handed.

The small gathering of neighbors clapped and cheered for him. The man gave a shy smile then walked towards you, cat in tow. The crowd departed then, and he offered the cat to you. Seeing the distress in Buttercrust’s face, you opted to plop him on the ground. The feline then swiftly ran around to the back of your house, likely to the cat door.

“Thank you,” you smiled at the fireman. “How much do I owe you.”

“We’re public servants, you don’t owe anything.”

“Oh.” You were embarrassed for even thinking it, but again, it was hard to focus with such a stunning man before you. You blurted out, “Maybe I can buy you dinner as a thank you.”

His smile was genuine, and just as breathtaking as the rest of him. “Really, you don’t owe me anything. All in a day’s work. I’m just happy Captain Buttercrust is safe.”

“Oh,” you didn’t do a good job of hiding the disappointment from your voice. He picked up on it.

His cheeks were a bit pink as he spoke. “I am curious about how Captain Buttercrust got his name. Maybe you’d be interested in discussing it over a . . .”

“Yes!” you burst before he even finished asking. Both of you were blushing and giggling now.

He offered his hand for you to shake. “I’m Hoseok, by the way.”

You shook his hand and gave your name in return.

“So, pick you up at 8?”

“Sure,” you nodded.

“Tell the Captain to be more careful when climbing trees.” He gave a small salute and headed back to the fire engine.

You felt your phone buzz in your backpack, but you knew better than to look. Hoseok was the only one who ever texted you. Of course it was him. You couldn’t look back now, the decision had been made. You couldn’t stay, couldn’t hurt him more.

You defied any rationality and picked a random city with a later departure - enough time to buy your ticket and get where you needed to go. You took a deep breath and walked to the ticket window.

Finding where you were supposed to be was much more difficult than even picking a destination. Some of the lines connected with each other at different stations, and figuring out which was which was almost rocket science.

Your heart felt like it was beating in the back of your throat as you walked down to the right train tunnel. The music in your earphones meant nothing, just background noise to make you dizzy. Your pulse skyrocketed, your palms became damp.

There really was no going back after this.

You found a seat on the correct platform just in time, feeling your the muscles in your legs become gelatinous and finally give way. The reoccurring thought, the endless loop of film in your mind, it was all Hoseok. You had promised him, and then you had immediately broken it. How could anyone reconcile that?

You guessed at the hours remaining until he got home. Would he even get home tonight? There were some times where he was gone a lot longer than he had initially expected. Your thoughts struggled for rationality, for purchase, for some kind of organisation. You focused on a spot where several tiles on the floor had cracked in tiny veins, fighting with yourself.

The thought of Hoseok’s broken heart haunted you, but was it really inevitable? Why did you always feel powerless? Were you ever strong?

The hours passed in this cycle of self-punishment, reasoning yourself into believing your excuses for leaving, a cruel circle. Your train had long since come and departed without you when a voice shook you out of your head.

‘Excuse me,’ it said.

You looked to see a squat, middle-aged security guard, his keys jingling from his belt as he shifted his stance.

‘Excuse me,’ he repeated. ‘Are you alright?’

‘Yeah,’ was your first, thoughtless response. You shook your head to clear the cobwebs. ‘Yeah, I’m fine. Just waiting for someone.’

‘If you say so. The last train left a while ago, you know,’ he said.

Had you really been here that long? You glanced at the timeboard in alarm. It was almost nine - at night. Your stomach rumbled obviously, and your hands shook as you pulled your backpack over your shoulders. Your legs threatened to give out again as you walked out of the station, but you were determined now. But were you too late?

You were hungry, sure. But you wanted Hoseok more. The thought, admitting that you felt even a little for him, it flooded your systems with relief. Maybe you could make progress.

Maybe you could make it home before Hoseok. You speedwalked, almost running, the whole way home. But your heart fell as you saw the living room light through the front window. You were too late. He was home, but he wasn’t alone.

You stood in the shadow of the dusk, watching him pace the living room irritably. One of his groupmates sat on the edge of your tiny couch, looking at Hoseok with worry. Hoseok turned, raking his fingers through his hair.

You swallowed and walked up to the door. Your hand froze on the handle. Of course it was locked, he wasn’t crazy. But there went your surprise entry. He would know it was you. He would know you had tried to leave.

Of course he already knew.

You could feel the tension through the door as you did your best to silently slip your key into the lock. Your fingers fumbled with one of your keychains, knocking the tiny silver heart against the door frame. You heard the voices inside go quiet. The only sound was the pounding of your heart as you turned the key and stepped inside.

Hoseok’s eyes peered around the hallway corner. They glistened through the dim lighting, and Hoseok’s staggered breathing tore through the still air.

You took your time. Setting down your bag, slipping out of your shoes, all at a snail’s pace. He waited patiently, stepping around to watch you fully. He stood with his arms crossed over his chest, stiff and motionless.

You knew. You knew you were in for it. You could practically hear his voice, distorted with anger, and by all means, you deserved it. You had tried to break your promise to stay, as if his heart meant nothing to you. You had betrayed his trust in one of the worst ways. The way you did didn’t even matter, it was the fact that you did it at all.

You braced for it, the hot tears starting purely from how ashamed you were of yourself. Wordlessly you had begun to tear yourself down, your intentions toward yourself lacking all the kindnesses they might have otherwise had. But that was okay. You weren’t someone that deserved kindness. You could only stare at the floor, all pride and pretense fallen by the wayside, unable to meet his eyes.

But before you could even consider how to apologize, to ask him how you could make it up to him, if at all, Hoseok crossed the distance between you and swung his arms around you, crushing you to his torso. He spared no air for your lungs or thought for your ribs, there was only you and the thought of how close he had come to losing you for good.

Your arms were pinned between your ribs and his chest, your breaths shallow and struggling, but it didn’t matter much. You were home, and it didn’t have anything to do with the building or your things or furniture. You closed your eyes and let yourself be crushed, refusing to struggle or complain.

Hoseok combed his fingers through your hair, his lips against your forehead.

‘I was so worried you weren’t coming back,’ he whispered. His fear was evident in his hold, his desperate clinging, his fingers digging into your back. His breath was shaky, his voice trembling.

‘I’m sorry,’ was all you manage in return, your voice muffled in his shirt.

He stayed around you this way for way few moments longer, only releasing you when Hyunwoo appeared from around the corner.

‘All good then?’ he said, looking past you to Hoseok.

Hoseok, still with his arm around you in his incessant need to be in contact with you, nodded, sniffing loudly.

‘You guys should talk,’ said Hyunwoo, making purposeful eye contact with you as he passed you.

Hoseok squeezed your side in affirmation, the curve of his chest resting against your shoulder.

Hyunwoo slipped on his jacket, turning to face you.

‘I’m glad you didn’t leave,’ he said finally, one final nod at Hoseok behind you before heading out, closing the door gently behind himself.

You were still frozen in the thought, staring at the closed door, when you felt your fingers being separated by Hoseok’s. He pulled you forward, leading you away from the door, just in case you changed your mind again.

You followed him without resisting. His shoulders, normally wide and proud, seemed now to sink beneath a terrible weight, and you didn’t have to wonder what it was. You reached a trembling hand to rest between them, hoping maybe to lend him some courage, to put strength back where it should be.

Hoseok peered back over at you, giving you a sad smile. Maybe you should have been encouraged, but it felt like your heart weighed even more. It felt like it was a struggle just to keep breathing, to keep the blood flowing through your veins.

He led you into the bedroom, turning to face you as you stood in front of the bed. He opened his mouth to say something, but no words would come out.

You waited, but there was no anger, no rage, nothing like what you deserved. You braced for the storm, but Hoseok didn't move or speak, stuck in the thick mire of his own thoughts.

It was on you.

A strange sense of boldness came over you, and you reached to cup his cheek into your palm. He fit perfectly, like he always had, his eyes shutting peacefully at your touch. You turned him and climbed backwards onto the covers, pulling him with you. There was no need, as Hoseok followed willingly, keeping your warmth on his skin.

You propped your back against the pillows and the headboard, motioning him closer. Hoseok hovered over you at first, starting sadly into your eyes, as if he doubted your sincerity. The look was no longer a blow, but an expectation. You deserved to be doubted, you couldn't be trusted.

The apologies flooded your throat, but couldn't tear through the heavy blanket of silence that had fallen over both of you. You hoped that your torn expression would be enough for now as you looked up at him.

Hoseok leaned down, resting an arm on either side of you. He came close, his eyes flickering down to your mouth. You nodded your consent wordlessly, but he still didn't kiss you. Hoseok studied you, and for once, you couldn't read what was going on in his mind.

You wanted to tell him that you didn't mean it, you didn't mean to leave. That you realized you had been making a mistake.

Then he reached for you, the pads of his fingers gently running the ridge of your jaw, down your neck, tracing the line of your collarbone over your shirt in a lazy fascination. Hoseok blinked slowly, his breathing loud and ragged.

'You,’ he said quietly. 'You came back.’

Your heart picked up the pace with the panic and shame. You swallowed before speaking.

'I shouldn't have even left. I panicked and I freaked out and I don't know even know why,’ your voice strained over the words, pleading with yourself for calm.

He idly traced the outline of your bottom lip with his thumb, bumping the tip of his nose against yours.

Your instinct begged for you to touch him, to feel every part of him, but your conscience told you that you didn't have the right. His shoulders curved gracefully in front of your eyes, and you reached halfway before losing heart, your hands shaking in midair.

‘Hoseok,’ your voice cracked. ‘I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you.’

Hoseok said nothing at first. He sat back, taking your outstretched hand and placing it on his chest. He covered it with his, keeping it prisoner there.

“Don't be afraid of me,’ he said. He sniffled. “That - that's worse than anything else you could do to me.’

He leaned forward again, this time not hesitating to kiss your forehead, your palm still planted over his heart.

He didn't say, “that's okay,” or, “I forgive you.” But really, you didn't expect him to forgive you at all.

He looked down at you, his eyes rounded and swimming with tears, his bottom lip trembling. The damage you caused with your recklessness. His fingers between yours squeezed tightly as his pain took him into dark places.

You sat forward, your own tears starting to burn as you held his head between your hands.

Hoseok nearly collapsed into your touch, overwhelmed and exhausted, crashing into you with all dignity forgotten, all pretense lost. His lips covered yours with a sad hunger, as if it were a fruitless endeavour.

You wrapped your arms around him as tightly as you could, drawing him down to you.

He paused to take in a breath, his wet eyelashes brushing against your cheek.

“I…” his voice faded as he struggled to speak. “I can't believe I almost lost you.”

“You won't,” you choked out through the knot in your throat. “You won't ever lose me.”

Hoseok kissed you again, pressing against you fervently. His lips tasted of nothing but salt, his pressure drawing the air from your lungs. You would give it all to him if he asked.

He rose up to his knees, his eyes never leaving your face. You watched him as he slowly peeled the shirt from his torso, opening your arms to him as he fell forward into you.

His kiss lasted a few moments longer, and he sighed in relief as your palms slid against his bare skin, as if the surface was a fire that only you could put out. He sunk down as he kissed you, his arm slung around your lower back, tracing the bare skin he found there.

You captured him and held him steady at your center, playing lightly in the short hair at the back of his neck as you returned his affection. This time willingly and present. You were sure that it was your lips against his, your skin that the waves of his breath skated down. He was Hoseok and he was here, all yours along with all the damage you had created. The heart you had so rashly broken.

His back curved into your palm, his skin smooth and cool to the touch.

Finally Hoseok retreated, his eyes boring into yours.

You followed the tired lines under his eyes with your fingertips, Hoseok falling rapture to your simple affection, his eyelids falling shut.

“You should rest,” you whispered.

He shook his head.

“I can't sleep,” he said. He leaned his head into your hand. “Not unless I know you'll be here when I wake up.”

You reached up to lay a soft kiss on his forehead.

“I'll be here,” you said, certain of yourself now. “I'll always be here.”

Hoseok opened his eyes, regarding you doubtfully. He sniffled, his tears starting to ease.

“I know that I fucked up, that I hurt you-”

Hoseok shushed you with a finger on your lips.

“I don't want to talk about it right now. I'm tired of thinking about it.”

He sank further down, wrapping his remaining arm around you. He lined your throat with a tender trail of featherlight kisses, settling between your legs, resting his head on your chest. His eyes fluttered closed as you stroked long circles down his back, fingers playing in his hair.

Your thoughts buzzed as you held him, the long lines of his back spread out, bared in front of you.

He was being too kind again. It worried you. Why wasn't he angry? If only he would yell or curse or something, anything to break the tension you felt deep inside yourself. Maybe you didn't understand everything about him. After all these years together, was there still more you didn't know about him? After all, you had never tested his boundaries quite like this. You had never tried to break free of yourself before.

You reached over to switch off the bedside lamp, Hoseok's arms tightening as you shifted beneath him.

Maybe the threat of breaking had helped you find a new perspective. You still felt the lack of emotion, pure apathy lurking beneath the surface, waiting to swallow you whole. Would it always be a constant battle with yourself? Would you always have to fight yourself to be good enough for him?

The questions swirled in your head until you were dizzy. But still you held him, sleeping in your arms while the night ticked on around you, your own mind plagued by your worries.

You might not know yourself the way you wanted to, or know why every emotion was a struggle, but you did know what you wanted to be. Safety for Hoseok, a shelter he could turn to anytime things might get difficult for him. But how could you transform yourself from a rock on the ground that he might trip on, annoying and problematic, to someplace he might think of as home? You saw where you needed to be, what you needed to be, but you didn't know how to get there.

Hoseok stirred, bracing himself on one arm long enough to peel himself off you and fall to the side. You distinctly felt the lack of him, missed the weight of him, and you looked down at him regretfully.

Without opening his eyes, Hoseok took your wrist and pulled you down with him. His arms snaked around you, his flat palm finding the small of your back. Gently, he gathered you against his front, tucking you into his chest. His lips pressed warmly against your forehead.

“Sleep,” he whispered, his breath rustling in your hair.

His heart beat steadily against your ear, and for a moment, you thought you might be able to. The gentle rhythm was lulling and familiar, but everything else, all the self blame and mental gymnastics pinned your consciousness in place, ripping sleep from your grasp.

You wiggled yourself closer, trying to find a comfortable position, but nothing would work.

Still the late hours wore on, you felt frozen in time and space, as the world kept moving on without you. You stared blankly off into the darkness of your bedroom.

A few moments later, Hoseok sighed.

“What's wrong?” His words barely had any volume, but shattered the thick silence that had fallen.

“Why aren't you mad?” you heard yourself say, the words spilling out thoughtlessly.

Hoseok didn't answer. His hand ran up your back, finding a better angle to hold you even more tightly.

In the dark, you felt him carefully guide your face up to his. You felt his lips brush yours, but he didn't crash down like you guessed he would.

“Tonight I really thought I had lost you,” he said. “I came home, and you were gone, your stuff was gone. It felt like I had lost... everything.” He pressed a tiny kiss of punctuation. “But you came back, you're here now.”

“But I fucked up so badly.”

“Don't, ok? Just don't. I just want to forget. Just for tonight.”

“Ok.” Your voice was a tiny murmur, far away from where you felt you were.

His arms didn't lose their pressure on your frame, even as he renewed his efforts to kiss you. It was messy in the dark and the exhaustion that tugged at both of you, his lips slipping or missing their target, but none of that reduced its significance.

The rest of you began to enjoy this attention, but a tiny voice raised its fist in rebellion in the back of your mind.

Would this be his solution to all your problems, then? Just to kiss you until you lost yourselves in the intimacy, forgetting what your real problems were? To ignore something long enough until it goes away?

It was there, bare and exposed as if in broad daylight, but you didn't want to look at it either. Maybe he was right too.

You tucked into him with a renewed focus, spreading your hands over his chest. His pressure increased in response, his hand on your back slipping beneath your shirt.

At the flick of your tongue on his bottom lip, Hoseok surged forward, pushing you onto your back. His fingertips played in the waistband of your pants, wanting nothing more than to ease beneath all of your layers.

Your mind raced with your pulse. Did you want this? Did he even want this, or were you both just doing it out of habit?

Hoseok retreated to breathe, his pulse elevated under your touch. You felt him staring down, the questions in his eyes evident, even in the darkness. Had he felt your hesitation?

“You should sleep,” he said in a whisper, his voice low and breathless. His thumb gently traced your chin.

He sat up, propping himself on an arm at your side.

“Yeah.” You rolled onto your side, curling into a ball and facing away from him. “Yeah, you're right.” You closed your eyes and feigned falling asleep.

Hoseok sighed loudly, falling down onto mattress behind you in a heavy heap. Without a second thought, his arms wove their way around your middle, untangling the knot you had made of yourself. He curled around your back, tucking you against himself. He swung his leg on top of yours, his heavy thigh keeping you in place.

You felt his nose poke against your neck as his breathing eased and shallowed.

And now you were here once more, staring at the window as Hoseok held you. He was right behind you, tangled around you in a mess of limbs. His chest rose and fell against your shoulder in the most familiar of patterns.

But then you pull the warm blanket closer to your body, bringing your legs up to curl into a ball. And Hoseok’s chest tightens with worry, making his body act faster than his brain. He carefully scoots closer, lifting himself on his elbow to peek at your hidden face. His hand lands on your arm, warm and comforting, followed by a mere whisper of his voice, almost as if he's worried that anything louder would startle you; “You ok there, bug?”

The silence lingers for a few minutes, but Hoseok doesn't push any further, only offering the comforting warmth and caresses of his hand. Your head finally gives a slight nod, voice small “Yeah~”

The words are mumbled against the pillow, but they're still audible enough for Hoseok to pick up. An involuntary pout pulls at his face, and he leans in, resting his chin on your shoulder. “You sure? Wanna talk about it?”

“No~” You answer instantly, and Hoseok can hear your pout. Your face remains hidden away in the pillow, muffling your words, “Wanna sleep~”

There is some finality in your words that makes Hoseok bite his lip, lingering still for a few moments more, before he suffices for a kiss on your head with a whispered goodnight, and rolls back to his place.

Half an hour later, a long half hour of just tossing around in bed and dealing with the million worried thoughts running through his head, Hoseok turns his face to the side. You haven't moved from your spot from the minute you laid down, and it only makes Hoseok come to the conclusion that you're already fast asleep. That thought brings some relief to his system, and with that he turns around to rest on his side, closed eyes finally seeking some sleep.

But before he has a chance to, a tentative arm snakes in under his own and drapes over his waist. There's a moment of static silence. Hoseok holds his breath, trying to figure out if you were simply sleeping. Calling out your name brings no response, so he tries to carefully adjust in bed in order to turn his head around towards you.  

“Don’t~” It comes out as a whine, followed by your other arm making its way to wrap around his waist. Feeling unsure, Hoseok remains frozen in place for a minute, but his body acts faster than his mind, making him attempt to turn his body.

Only, he doesn't manage to fully turn around, because your arms tighten and hold him in place, and he soon feels your face hide against his back. Another whine comes out, laced with a warning tone, “Hoseok~”

This time, Hoseok holds back and remains in place, despite the urge to face you and check up on you. Instead, he lets the palms of his hands rest against your own, a soothing thumb caressing the skin. “You’re making me worry, ____.”

Hoseok hears you sigh, body pressing closer to him. “I’m sorry.”

Silence lingers, but Hoseok’s warm hands remain patient on yours. And it tugs on your heartstrings, fills you up with guilt. Because you know you're being selfish and unfair, seeking his comfort but making him worry instead.

“I had a bad dream.” You confess in a whisper, and the words taste dumb and childish on your tongue, but it's the only explanation you could offer.

“Baby~” Hoseok mumbles, his own face pulled into a frown. His palms move in gentle movements, caressing the skin of your forearms before going down to hold your hands. With your arms caging him in, it's the only comfort he can offer. “Do you feel ok?”

There's a slight nod against his back, followed by your voice -sounding so small and sleepy- “Yeah, I just-” a sigh “Can we please just sleep like this?”

There wasn't a single universe where Hoseok could have denied your request, even when his mind still felt a little hesitant. So with a sigh, he hums in approval and then bids you a soft goodnight.

•

Hoseok almost lets that night slide, when the next morning you're awake early and munching on your breakfast cereal in front of the TV.

But then, on the ride to school, he barely hears you talk three times, and two out of those were one word responses.

In fact, you barely talk all day. But, you don't make a fuss when he asks for a hug before class (which is usually a must). You silently rest your head on his shoulder during lunch, simply listening to Minhyuk’s animated conversation with Kihyun.You hang around the kitchen that evening, and help around cooking dinner (it’s Hoseok’s turn, you should be either laughing at him from your seat on the couch, or hoping that your meal doesn't end up being 65% proteins and 35% ramen).

But when you abandon your room, and sit next to him on the couch while he's working on his assignment, Hoseok can't keep turning a blind eye to your obvious mood change. Your legs crossed in front of you, thigh slightly resting over Hoseok’s, his own legs resting on the table. And when you lean in to wrap your arms around his waist, cuddling into him from the side, red starts flashing in dangerous signs.

Hoseok closes his Laptop and discards it to the side, slightly turning to face you with a soft look. An arm goes around your shoulder, bringing you closer and making your head rest against his chest instead.

“What’s wrong? Come on, tell me.”

“Nothing.” You sigh, and it's truly the least convincing answer to ever be given. Hoseok sighs himself, bringing his other hand to lift your head up and make you look at him. His eyebrows are drawn together in a beaten up puppy look, and you can only hope that he doesn't feel the rapid beats of your heart or how it's fluttering in your chest.

“I’m just feeling tired.” You add in an attempt to mend it up, a small smile too. But it doesn't seem to make any change.

“Don’t give me that.” Hoseok warns, his hand moving to brush the strands of hair out of your face. The worried look remains on his face, his voice falling into a softer tone. “You seem off; you're too quiet, very touchy..”

The gentle tone of his voice doesn't stop them from hitting a weak spot, and it makes you break out of his arms instantly. Your ears burn a bright red, embarrassment filling you up and making you stutter out “F-fine!”

“Noo~” Hoseok whines, arms already reaching out to stop you from getting off the couch and pulling you back against him. Which proves to be a harder task with you trying to fight him off, grumbling his name in protest.  

“I didn't mean it like that~” He resorts to fully pulling you against his chest, chin resting on your shoulder. That seemed to have an effect, because even when your arms remains folded between your bodies, you're not making any attempt against him. “I wasn't complaining about it. You’re just acting different. What’s wrong?”

There’s a silence that lingers a minute too long, but then you're pulling yourself out of his arms and staring at him with a serious, determined face.

“Do you hate me?”

One blink. Two blinks. Hoseok’s face morphs in shock, before he's laughing it out and pulling you back into his arms. “What?”

“I’m serious!” You insist, pulling back. Hoseok takes a second to inspect your face, started by how upset you look and how the nerves seem to be eating you up. “Do you.. Um.. Hate me? Like, do you feel like you have to endure me?”

His smile falters, chest tightening with worry. His mind is quick, going over the list of things that would make you think that, because the possibility that you might actually think that is frightening. Hoseok stutters, mouth feeling dry; “Wha- What would make you say that?”

Sniffling, your head bows down, avoiding his eyes. “I… I call you dumbass a lot,” You let out, serious as ever, and Hoseok knows better than to interrupt or call you silly. So he waits, watches you lift a hand up to frustratingly dry your cheeks, bottom lip involuntarily sticking out in a pout that makes him reciprocate it.

“I always tell you I hate you. I either never stop talking and babbling, or I don't say a word. I'm a pain in the ass when I'm in a bad mood.. You do so, so much for me, but all I do is burden you and make you worry..”

Your words separated by slight sniffles and quiet tears, hands nervously fiddling in your lap. They run freely out of your mouth, and you don't even manage to filter them or think them over. At last, your eyes lift up to meet his, and you almost wish you hadn't. Because the look on his face only makes it harder to speak your last words. “I just… I know that I need you more than you need me. And that's a heavy burden for yo-”

Hoseok doesn't let you finish, arms pulling you back into a warm hug, one that you gladly welcome. You let him wrap himself around you, making you melt against him soak in his warmth. A soft hand pats your head, whispers of “baby~” mumbled against your ear. Hoseok holds you so tight, as if he's trying to make you feel every beat of his heart and every bit of his feelings, as if he's trying to wordlessly ease your worry and show you the love he has for you. And that makes your heart swell, because you know you're being silly and unreasonable, he's your best friend. But that doesn't stop the whispers in the back of your mind, and the crippling fear that they might be true.

“Of course I don't hate you. I would never, no matter what. Okay, bug? Even if we get on each other's nerves, and even if you call me dumbass each day-”

“I already do,” You interrupt with a hiccup.

“Exactly,” Hoseok chuckles, taking his time to rock you back and forth, still buried in his arms.

A short silence follows, before Hoseok puts two and two together and asks; “Is this because of the nightmare?”

“Um… Kind of.” You shrug, not offering any further words. A comforting hand starts to rub your back, “Baby, that’s-”

“Don’t tell me it's silly~” You whine, dreading to hear those words from him.  

“It’s not that.” Hoseok clarifies, his sigh tickling your ear, “Just- You should have told me sooner.”

You don't give much of a reply, simply nodding against his shirt.

“Wanna tell me about it?”

“Noooo~” you protest, “if I do, it’ll come true.”

Hoseok lets out a chuckle, and you can feel the vibrations of his chest; “babe, you can't believe in that~”

“I’m still not telling..” you grumble.

“Even if you do! There’s no way it could come true.” He argues, far too amused to make himself stop.

“Still not telling.”

Hoseok pulls you back at last, using the sleeve of his hoodie to wipe your cheeks. the smile on his face is so soft, so comforting, that you can't bring yourself to look away for a second. But then it hits you that you’ve just cried like a baby, and you can't help the self consciousness when Hoseok, looking like that, is seeing your state.

“Don’t~ my face is probably all puffy and gross.” You push his hand away, trying to lean back but his arm on your back keeps you in place.

“Yeah,” he agrees, voice whispering low, as if trying to preserve your little bubble. He allows himself a minute, just to look at your face and map it all in his memory. A fond smile stretches his lips, and there is no way Hoseok could have fought it off.

“You look like one of those fish that blow up and go all puffy.” He adds, voice still hushed.

“I don't~” You whine, but a giggle instantly follows. And Hoseok smiles, having accomplished his goal. “Yes, yes you do! What are they called again?”

A wide smile stretches your lips, pushing Hoseok’s hand away from your face. “Not telling.” You grumble, but it does nothing to hide your smile.

Hoseok’s hand reaches out again, playfully pinching your nose in between his fingers. “No,” he smiles, “You look cute. A cute baby~”

“I’m not a baby..” You grumble, turning your face away from him. The tips of your ears burn at his words, something weird bubbling in the pit of your stomach, so strong that you can no longer pretend that it's never there.

Hoseok stifles a laugh, finding far too much joy in your flustered reactions. And he can't deny himself the pleasure of pushing a little more, “Yes you are. You're my baby.”

Hoseok doesn't give you a chance to complain, both of his hands quickly holding up your face and squishing your (burning) cheeks.

“So, are we good?”

A nod.

“I love you~ alright?”

A nod, cheeks dusted in pink.

“No~ You say it~”

Forget burning up. Your body feels like it's been rolling in Satan's hell for 45 years straight. The beats of your heart are so loud in your ears, and you're sure that they're way past the normal rate.

“I.  love you.” You mumble after a while through pouty, squished cheeks, your eyes avoiding Hoseok’s. It feels like the air is fighting against your attempts to fucking breath, and it might have something to do with the heavy meaning those words carry in your heart.

And if Hoseok noticed the pinkness coloring your cheeks, if he felt the skin warm up under his own; you're glad he didn't say a word about it.

“No~~, say it.” He demands again, pushing your head up again. And his smile is too sweet for someone who’s tormenting you this way.

“.. You love me?” You stutter out, and Hoseok finally looks pleased with your words, releasing your face to go pat your head instead. “That’s a good girl.”

And so, it seems like Shin Hoseok enjoys nothing more than to keep your heart beating at an alarming rate, almost as if he's actually trying to kill you. His arms pull you back into a hug, and you're thankful that your face gets to be hidden from him.

“You know?”

“hmm?” You hum, eyes still closed.

“I’m really enjoying your cuddly mood.”

You can hear the teasing smile on Hoseok’s face, and it brings back the flustered state just as you’ve gone back to normal. “ok, that's enough for you!”

“Noo~” Hoseok pulls you back, a bright laugh resonating in the room, “I’m sorry, I'm sorry. Just a lil bit more “

You allow him to keep you in place, his head resting against your shoulder. But barely after a minute of silence, he's speaking up again.

“You know?”

“Hmm?”

“They say friends are the family we choose..” He mumbles, voice falling into a serious tone, and before you can say anything, he carries on; “I’m glad you chose me.”

Your heart swells, tightens and pulls at your lungs, making your throat close and tears well up in your eyes. Because it's by far not what you had expected for him to say, and more than you would have wanted to hear. And you don't have to say anything back, because Hoseok just knows, when your arms tighten around him and a small sniffle breaks the silence of the room.

Hoseok lays back on the couch, consequently pulling you down with him. “So,” he sighs in content, “what do you say we stay like this all evening? Movies and take out?”

His offer makes you get up abruptly, eyebrows drawn together. “Hoseok!” You scold, “You have practice. And I just complained about feeling like you’re doing too much for me.” A pout is added at the end, in hopes of being a good convincing tool.

“I know~ But I want to! Plus, captain wouldn't mind” He adds with a smile.

But your face remains unamused, arms crossing over your chest. “Hoseok, Minjun hates you.”

“He doesn't!” he dismisses with a shake of his head, a hardly convincing laugh leaving his lips.

“Hoseok!”

“Ugh, fine.” Hoseok agrees with a pout, but he still remains laid back on the couch. He keeps his gaze on you for a few seconds, before he's opening his arms and inviting you in;  “Just a little more.”

Let’s backtrack alittle, let your mind lay down the timeline of events that have unfolded.

You and Shin Hoseok, Wonho as he prefers, had been on and off together for the past few months. The two of you had never officially labeled yourselves, but you both also never saw other people… friends with benefits? Yeah, maybe that’s the go-to term for the both of you. 

Anyways, you and Wonho would often have your occasional meet ups of bliss, a good fuck, as both you and him referred to each other after coming down from your highs. 

Afterwards, you and Wonho would sit around for maybe an hour, taking your sweet time in the redressing process, exchanging batting eyelashes and simple smiles, before parting ways. 

And that was the extent of your relationship. At least, that was the extent of it until about a week ago.

See. . . after you both saw each other exactly one week ago, Wonho did something he’s never really done with you. He asked you a question.

Simple? Yes. 

No big deal? To any other person… no big deal. 

But Wonho never really asked you questions that related to you as a person. If he ever did ask you a question, it would usually fall along the lines of ‘can we try this next time’, ‘is this okay?,’ or ‘are we meeting up tomorrow’, etc.

However, little did he know, by asking you that question Wonho had just crossed the clearly visible yet invisible line you drew between a good fuck and a possible turmoil of emotions.

A real turmoil of emotions that would inevitably emerge between the two of you. Something you swore you wouldn’t find yourself in after your last heartbreak. 

‘Can I see your drawings?’ was the question he asked you that night. He knew you were an artist, one of whom found love and enjoyment in creating art. 

Again, it was a simple question but he never showed any interest in anything but simply fucking you. And that was a-okay with you.

He knew the rules.  

Last week, while you both laid there with your head on his arm as it wrapped around you. He absentmindedly stroked your hair and you looked up at him with skeptic eyes. “Can you… what? Why?”

He went on to give his explanation of why he wanted to see your drawings., pushing the question as an innocent one. 

All he wanted to do was see your drawings, not marry you. That was his argument. 

You inevitably gave in and figured why the hell not, it’s just showing him your drawings, nothing major. So for the next hour he sat there going through your works. 

Page after page, his eyes grew brighter with intrigue and awe after each piece. He’d often look at your work then back at you, as if to verify that you, in fact, had created such masterpieces.

He was impressed.

After that night, the next few times you two met up, you noticed him watching you differently. 

His eyes were warmer and when he looked at you, you could almost swear that your heart skipped a few beats each time. 

His whole demeanor changed. It was calmer, warmer. And to be fair, you caught yourself in slight admiration for the way his eyes followed you and for the way his skin complements perfectly with any color of clothing he threw on his body.

And now, here you both are, three nights later.

You’re sitting on the end of your bed, eyeing Wonho’s bare body, scanning every angle, every muscle and every bead of sweat still evident on his skin. 

He looked beautiful. 

Breathtaking, to be exact. 

And this is the moment that lead you to your initial question, “can I draw you?”

Wonho props himself up on his elbows to look at you, chest rising and falling as he is still catching his breath.

“You want to draw me,” he asks choking out a small chuckle, as if to imply that he isn’t worth drawing.

“Yeah. I want to draw you. I, um… I want you to lay out in front of me as I attempt to draw every inch of your body.” You tell him honestly, while your fingers fiddle with the bed sheet. 

No sense in coating the truth, you wanted so badly to just put his figure on paper and see the outcome. You knew it would be phenomenal and possibly be your best work yet.

He looked at you for a moment longer, realizing you were serious, “Well, alright then. Draw me.” He responded as he laid back, crossing his arms behind his head, plastering a smirk on his face.

But you shook your head, “no, not here,” you said as you got up and collected his clothes from the floor, throwing them on top of his body.  “Get dressed.”

After you both were dressed and ready, you get him in your car and the both of you are off to your new location.

“Um… Y/N. Am I allowed to know where you’re taking me? You know, for safety reasons.” He asks from the passenger seat.

You were taking him to the art studio you go to on weekends. In the back of this studio was a small room. From the first moment you saw it, you knew exactly who and what you wanted to create in there. 

But you figured you’d never be able to, considering that line you drew. However, now that the line was crossed, you figured there’s no stopping you from fulfilling your inner desire.

After a while, you and Wonho arrive at art studio. From the outside it looked completely deserted with an eery darkness coating the surroundings except for the neon lit sign out front.

Wonho, in response, internally began to question what he got himself into. YOu let out a chuckle, looking at his worry-eyed face. “The studio only looks this way at night when no one is using it,” you tell him, giving him some sense of security. 

“Don’t worry. We’re alone. And no, I won’t murder you.” You tell him with a teasing smirk on your face as you wink his way before getting out of your car. Intrigue quickly washes over him, as you open up the one-story studio and turn the lights on.

It was a sweet little home away from home for you. With exposed brick on one wall, while the remaining three walls were covered with different art works and shelves full of art equipment. Six tables occupied the front section of the room, all covered with their own pieces of art and materials.

There was an open area towards the back where a black leather sofa resides and Wonho heads straight for it. His eyes scanning over the vast array of media while on his way towards the back. 

You were only a few steps behind him, watching the way his eyes widen in admiration of the art. He plops down on the sofa and poses in a way that screams he’s ready to be your focal point. To which you giggle and roll your eyes at him as you lean down and place yourself on top, straddling him. 

You reach down and kiss him, feeling his sweet lips on yours, more tender than ever. Your tongue fights its way in his mouth and he happily welcomes you in. One of his hands wrap around your waist as the other snakes up and around the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper.

You break away from the kiss, placing your hands on his chest, fingers toying with the buttons of his dark blue collared shirt. He’s looking up at you, both hands gripped firmly on your waist. The gaze he gives you is more warm, softer. It sends sweet feelings of comfort through your bones.

Wonho gently thrusts his hips up towards you, causing another giggle and roll of your eyes to occur in response. You lean down for one more kiss before grabbing his hand and pulling him off the couch, “this is not where you’ll be laying. I have something more… comfortable for you.”

You lead him further towards the back of the studio, down a small hallway, all the way down to a door that leads to one of two small rooms. 

As you both stand in front of the door, with your hand on the doorknob you can feel your heart beating with excitement.

You look back at Wonho one more time, waiting for the okay from him. He smiles and wriggles his eyebrows at you and with that, you open the door. 

A quick gust of cool air hits your faces. Still standing outside the room but peeking in, Wonho’s eyes flicker with thrill.

As he follows you in, Wonho begins to scan the entirety of the room. The dim lighting greets you both and the sweet aroma of paints and pastels reach his nose, sending light goosebumps down his back. 

Excitement continues to flow through his body. He notices one main aspect of the room, possibly his favorite. The mirrors. 

Every wall of this room was covered with mirrors, including the ceiling. Every angle, every movement, every detail can be seen in this room and it only excites Wonho all the more.

“Whoa,” was his only response.

This room full of mirrors featured a king-sized bed in one of the corners of the room, coated in deep-red rose petals. Wonho looks at you and back to the bed, a smile forming on his face once he realizes that this is the ‘more comfortable’ place for him.

Your hand is holding his when he softly squeezes your hand and shyly lets out a short chuckle. He leans over and softly kisses your cheek, then leaves a trail of sweet pecks down to your neck before letting go of your hand and heading for the bed of roses. You love the way he is already taking control. 

Eyeing the way the roses complement the dark blue color of his shirt, your heart nearly skips a beat at the beautiful contrast.

Watching him as he sits on the bed, he looks like the missing puzzle piece to this room. Except, there’s something that’s still blocking the creative senses in your brain. Oh yes... his clothes. 

You walk up to him, eyes staring into his as your fingers reach down and begin to unbutton his shirt. 

He helps you take the fabric off and you stand there for a second, looking over his smooth and carefully toned body. 

Before you know it, your lips find his yet again and they soon grow a mind of their own as they find his jaw next. Then down his neck, until your lips find purchase on his chest.

Wonho lays down onto the bed, completely taken aback by your sweet touch and attention to his body. It was unlike any other time that you’ve touched him. 

It all felt real.

Your hands find his belt while your lips still pay admiration to his upper body. You swiftly began to unbuckle the belt, pulling his jeans down, uncovering him until he’s only in his underwear.

Wonho can do nothing but watch you. His eyes looking at every wall-covered mirror and at your soft reflection. 

Your lips continued down his stomach, feeling every toned muscle and curve under them. Peck after sweet, hunger-filled peck, you hear his sighs and moans of pleasure at your touch. He’s already losing control of his breathing.

Once your lips reach the waistband of his underwear, you look back up at Wonho and notice his eyes are closed tight as he takes in the pleasure of your sweet lips on his skin and the cool air of the room. 

You gently pull his last piece of clothing off of him, now leaving him bare and ever so beautiful under the room’s dim lighting.

Your touch leaves him as you head over to grab the deep red velvet sheet from the shelf and drape it over his lower body.

“You’re really beautiful, Shin Hoseok.” He hears you whisper into the cool air as you eye the way the sheet perfectly hugs his hips and legs. 

You walk over to the chair on the opposite end of the room.  Sketchbook and pencil in hand, you begin the beautiful journey of Wonho’s body.

Your eyes scan over his body, head to toe, catching every detail. 

The curves. . . the lines. . . the way the light hits each of his muscles and the veins that travel along his arms all come alive on your paper. 

The tension that he is holding in his arms and in his stomach from nervousness, soon begins to relax as he grows more comfortable under your eye. 

After a while, you both are in total comfort and Wonho gains his confidence. You know this because he soon starts to tease you. 

As you look back and forth from your sketchpad to his body, you catch his gaze. His bedroom eyes on full display, watching you and the way you hold your pencil. 

A smirk soon appears on his face, knowing that he is slowly getting to you. “You’re cute, you know that, Y/N?” He asks, with his voice husky and strained. 

“Do you also know how hard it is for me to stay right here? Do you know how badly I want to pull you onto this bed with me? Watching your body in every angle from these mirrors as I bury myself in you.” 

You ignore him for the time being, but you know damn well that his words are getting to you. And he knows it, too.

Your cheeks start to redden, nearly matching the red wine color of the sheet thrown carelessly over his body. 

You absentmindedly lick your lips and press your thighs together before returning your focus onto your paper. But once you meet his gaze, his bedroom eyes flicker back at you while he licks his pink lips. His tongue slowly grazes his bottom lip, pulling it in between his teeth as he softly bites down. 

Your heart beat begins to rise and heat begins to form at your core. You’re mentally cursing him out in your head for his subtle yet enticing gestures.

A few more minutes pass and you finally finish your sketch but decide not to show him just yet. You’re simply not done.

You have the taste of revenge coating over your tongue and a new idea blooming in your mind. 

You set your sketchpad down on the small table beside you and walk over to a dresser on the other side of the room. 

Wonho is watching you through the mirrors, the only thing going through his mind is how beautiful you look. 

You open up the bottom drawer, revealing a variety of paint bottles in assorted colors. You reach in and grab bottles of red, purple and blue colors, turning towards Wonho with a smile slowly growing on your face.

You sit beside him on the edge of the bed and begin to open up the bottles and drop a medium-sized amount of each color onto your palette.

“Are you not going to show me your drawing, Y/N?” Wonho asks. 

Without a verbal response to his question, you slowly remove the velvet sheet from his body, revealing his bare body to you once again. 

Wonho is staring at you with such lust, yet in total disbelief that an angel is in his presence and admiring his body the way you are.

“I’m not done with you, Shin Hoseok.” You whisper into his ear, followed by your lips finding his earlobe as you nibble on it, causing a groan to escape from his mouth.

You dip your fingers in the paint, one finger for each color on the palette. The coolness of the liquid pigment sends pleasant chills through your warm body. 

Once your fingers are covered in a different color, you gently glide them over his body, starting from his collarbone down to his stomach. Wonho’s breath hitches while his stomach muscles tighten under your touch. He’s staring at you with so much lust and passion, you can feel the heat forming at your core again.

He slowly releases his breath, staring at you. “Y/N,” he moans out of pure desperation. 

Music to your ears, but you don’t let up that easily. You continue to gently move your fingers over his body, painting his skin with beautiful lines of reds, purples, and blues. And with every movement of your fingers, you feel his tender muscles flex.

Wonho is a beautiful work of art under your touch, releasing soft moans of pleasure along the way. 

He lets his head fall back, exposing his long beautiful neck to which you take notice. Dipping  your fingers in the red puddle of paint and you bring it up to his neck, leaving three streaks of crimson red paint. The red drags all the way down to his chest, past his stomach and to his pelvic bone, mixing with the river of other colors as your fingers glide down his body.

Wonho opens his eyes and watches your movements from the mirrored ceiling and he likes what he sees. He is so in love at this moment. 

His eyes never able to leave you, watching you as you lost yourself in him and the art that he is. 

He slowly saw himself crossing that invisible line you drew and never wanting to look back. All he saw on the other side of that line was you, and that was all he needed. 

As you continued to paint him, he studied you, remembering every mark and every curve of your own body.

After you feel satisfied with the paint, you clean your hands on a towel that’s draped over the headboard and turn to face your artwork. Smiling softly at him, you remove your clothes at an ever so teasingly slow place for him. 

Wonho lays there, panting as his member grew hard in pure desperation of wanting to touch you. Knowing he shouldn’t move, he simply groaned at the sight of your body reflected so beautifully in this room of mirrors.

Once you’re completely naked in front of him, you move on top of his body. He has his hand on his throbbing member helping you place himself at your entrance. Your eyes meet his as you slowly sink down onto him. Mouth falling wide open as you feel him stretching your walls, groans escaping his mouth as his hands grip tightly at your waist. 

“Fuck, Y/N.” Wonho moans, your hands land on his painted chest. “You’re driving me absolutely crazy. And I love it,” he hisses as you slowly move your hips. 

Wonho sits up and pulls your bodies close together and you let out a small gasp at the feeling of the cool paint from Wonho’s body touching your bare chest. 

You slowly begin to ride him, hips grinding and meeting together while his lips are quick to leave their mark on your neck and shoulder. He paints you in his his own color of blues and purples with his tongue and lips. 

Soon enough he lays you on the bed of rose petals and hovers over you while he thrusts deep into you, making your legs tremble. 

He’s so deep in you with each thrust, all you can do is pant at the sweet pleasure. He buries his head in your neck as his pace quickens, and all you can see are the mirrors in the room. The reflection of you two is a such a sight that you never want to forget.

“You’re going to cum with me, Y/N. Okay?” He groans in your ear and the sound of his voice is so beautiful yet so sinful your mind is sent into an immediate haze. 

Sooner than you think you both are reaching your highs together, a beautiful new experience for the both of you, sending your bodies into a shaky and blissful state.

Wonho kisses your forehead. .  your cheeks and your lips, before he pulls out of you and rests beside you. 

You’re both watching each other in the mirror above, admiring the way you both look like a painted mess.

He moves to lay on his side as he watches you, smiling to himself. 

He’s studying your body again. Every detail of yours would be carefully burned into his brain so he can always have you and this moment in his memory.

Infatuated passion and so much beauty lie on this bed of roses tonight. 

And you wouldn’t have it any other way. You allowed yourself to cross the line with him and you’re never looking back. This was all you wanted and you were all he wanted.

“Y/N?” He whispers. You hum in response. “Can you show me your drawing?” 

“I’d paint a galaxy, or a sunset just to remind him of how beautiful he is.” - L.P.