âNO ONE BUT YOUâ
pairing: childhood bff! liu yangyang x secretly in love bff! reader | genre: rom-com | words: 38k+
synopsis -> after his girlfriend left him for his bestfriend, liu yangyangâs favorite coping mechanism is running to you for emotional support. every damn time he bumped into them on campus, he wore that perfect mask, pretending he was completely fine. only to end the night crying on your shoulder, falling apart. and every single damn time â you were there. handing him tissues, listening to the same rants on repeat, cracking sarcastic jokes until he laughed through his tearsâŠall while pretending your own heart wasnât breaking. why couldnât he see that the person who always understood him best had been here all along?
warnings -> guaranteeing the cutest best friends to lover trope in the loverboy series (at least i think it is!!), pet name unlocked: teddy, yangyang is so fucking oblivious it hurts, reader please get up!, jealousy, insecurities, possessiveness, +18, crude humor, language, parties, drinking, more than one party game, masturbation (m), fingering, blowjob, face riding, yangyang is a munchhh and loves/gets off eating pussy, he also has a big dick! sexual activities while intoxicated, unprotected sex in the hot tub!, and on the couch! he cums inside oops, lots of banter during sex, mentions of: fuck-buddy, audio porn.
an -> the first of the wayv loverboy is sweetly yours! i decided to do this spin off after listening to taylor swiftâs, you belong with me hehe. this takes place right after renjunâs story or i hate fruits. you do not need to read the loverboy series (dream ver) to understand this story. what you need to know will be explained here. but if you want the full details, i do recommend reading renjunâs story! have fun reading! please let me know what you think!! - with love, c.
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 11 - FRIDAY - MY EMOTIONAL SUPPORT TEDDY BEAR.
it was nearly midnight when the door to your apartment door swung right open, making you jump so hard your heart practically tried to escape your chest. for one terrifying second, you imagined every possible crime scene headline involving you, a slippery bathroom floor and a damp towel as your only defense.
âitâs just not fair!â
the shout echoed in your living room before you even spotted him. you could recognize that voice even in your sleep. and there he was â liu yangyang, your childhood best friend, the boy youâve been harboring secret feelings for the last five years, storming in with wild eyes and a kind of frustration that clung to him like static, restless and loud.
you clutched your towel tighter around your body, still dripping wet from the shower, âdude! i know i gave you my code but that doesnât mean you can just walk in here with no warning!â
yangyangâs eyes flicked over to you, unimpressed. he didnât even flinch at your half-naked state â too consumed in his own misery to care. he just groaned and collapsed dramatically onto your couch, burying his face into a throw pillow like heâd been waiting all day for this exact moment, âput on some clothes so i can die in your arms in peace, please,â he mumbled, his voice muffled, pout obvious even without seeing his face.
you exhaled, long and patient, already used to this. already too soft on him for your own good, âfine. but just so you know, iâm out of ice cream.â
âughhhh, i hate my lifeee,â he whined, dragging the pillow closer like it could protect him from reality. you shook your head and padded toward your bedroom, trailing little wet footprints behind you.
this was his routine now â crashing into your space, sometimes drunk, sometimes stone sober, always wearing that perfect mask on the outside until it shattered behind your door. heâd been like this ever since the two of you got back from your internship in germany and found out that his best friend, renjun, and his girlfriend, now ex-girlfriend, love, had somehow fell in love with each other in the strangest, most heartbreaking way. a box dropping on her head. temporary amnesia. the illness between memories blurred until she didnât know who was who. by the time the fog cleared, it was already too late, sheâd fallen in love with the wrong boy (or the right one) depending on whose story you hear. yangyang had been stuck in the middle of that impossible truth ever since. he played the part so well, too â polite smiles, easy words about being âhappy for themâ when people asked. but the cracks always showed when the day ended, when he needed someone who wouldnât call his bluff. so he came here. to you. and through it all â the late night breakdowns, the way he cycled through the same rants until even his tears felt rehearsed, the quiet collapses on your couch â you never once left his side. not when his voice broke. not when his walls crumbled. not even when your own heart kept breaking quietly in the background, knowing heâd never look at you the way he looked at her.
you pulled on a hoodie and your pajama shorts before returning to the living room. yangyang was still sprawled out into the cushions like he owned them, his head tipped back against the armrest, staring at your ceiling like it might offer him a divine answer. you grabbed the remote, flipped on the t.v. for background noise and nudged his leg with your knee, âscoot over,â you ordered.
he grumbled something incoherent but still obeyed, pulling his legs up and folding into a lazy criss-cross on your couch. you dropped beside him, close enough that your knees brushed, mirroring the way he sat. it had always been like this between you two â automatic, instinctive, like your bodies remembered how to fit together in any space.
from this close, you caught the faint tang of alcohol on his breath. your eyes narrowed immediately, âyou went to the dream party, didnât you?â
yangyang shifted uncomfortably, gaze darting anywhere but you. he tugged at a loose thread on the pillow, shoulders stiff, clearly guilty, âuhhhâŠâ
you tilted your head, raising a brow, ânow, why the hell would you do that?â
he let out a long, shaky sigh, finally dragging his eyes back to yours. the vulnerability there made your chest ache, âi-i donât know! i-i just wanted to see her.â
the words hung heavy in the air. you bit the inside of your cheek, bracing yourself. âand?â you prompted, voice harsher than you meant it to be.
yangyang leaned back, hands fidgeting in his lap, like if he didnât start talking he might actually combust, âand you would not believe what happenedââ he said, launching into the story of what went down at the party.
*flashback to earlier today at the dream fraternity*
the music thumped in his chest, laughter spilling in the air, a red solo cup in his hand as he listened to whatever xiaojun and hendery was talking about, plastering on the same easy grin heâd worn all week, the one that said iâm fine. iâm happy. inside, though, every second felt like his ribs were caving in.
he saw them way before they saw him. their matching color palettes werenât hard to miss â renjun and love wrapped up in pink. side by side. brushing like magnets, smiles soft and too tender for anyone else to miss. he swallowed down the lump in his throat and took another sip, pretending the burn was enough to numb it.
when renjun finally spotted him and made his way over, yangyang braced himself, smile sharpening onto something lopsided, practiced, âdude,â he said, gaze flicking over, âthe pink?â
renjun blinked, caught off guard. âwhat?â
yangyang tilted his head, grin widening just enough to look genuine and pointed at his best friendâs new hair, âit suits you. makes you look⊠weirdly happy.â
renjunâs shoulders relaxed a little, mouth tugging into a shy smile. âyeah, well. she picked it.â
âof course she did,â yangyang let out a soft laugh. amused. or at least, pretending to be.
a cautious silence threaded between them like they were both balancing glass in their hands. then renjunâs voice dropped quieter, âcan we talk?âyangyang didnât even sigh. he just nodded and stepped off to the side with him.
renjun began, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck, eyes darting everywhere but yangyangâs, âi shouldâve told you sooner. but it all happened so fast and next thing i knowââ
âyou love her,â yangyang said simply. his tone was light, steady, betraying nothing. but inside, it was a knife twisting right in his chest. âi know. i saw it all that night we took her to the hospital.â
renjunâs throat bobbed, âyeah.â
âi already forgave you,â yangyang went on, managing a small, resigned smile, âi just needed a couple days to process and the let the sting wear off. besides, you were right. i wasnât there. i shouldâve seen it coming, really. it just makes sense that the two people i love most would fall in love with each other,â he concludes. not entirely sure if he was trying to convince the boy in front of him or himself.
renjun swallowed hard, âit wasnât supposed to happen like that.â
âyeah,â yangyang said softly, âbut it did. and maybe it was supposed to happen exactly like this.â there was a pause, full of memory, affection, and things left unsaid. yangyang took a sip from his cup, âanyway. the internship called me. i got the job.â
renjunâs eyes widened. âyouâre kiddingâ?â
yangyang grinned, this time genuinely. ânope. full-time offer. i leave right after graduation next yearâŠso really,â he went on, nudging renjunâs shoulder lightly, âit worked out for everyone. i got my future, and you got her. she was always yours, anyway. i was just keeping her heart warm till you were ready.â
âwhat do you mean?,â renjun asks, curious.
yangyang forced out a grin, pretending every word he uttered wasn't crushing his own heart, âyouâll have to ask her about it.â
renjunâs throat went tight. âyangâŠâ
âdonât get sappy on me now, loverboy,â he warned, letting out a laugh that covered the crack in his chest. he didnât want his pity. âgo. be gross together. and tell her i said thanks for finally getting you to change your hair. iâve been begging for color since sophomore year.â
renjun snorted, âthanks.â then, after a beat, quieter, sincere, âweâre still best friends, right?â
yangyang nodded once, smile beaming, even though his brain was still screaming a million curse words. âas long as you donât mess this up.â yangyang says like some sort of wise man. literally, fuck him and his own savior complex. he should be screaming. he should be trashing this place. instead, heâs sporting a beaming smile all for the sake of other peopleâs happiness.
renjun met his eyes, âi wonât,â he promised. âiâd rather die.â
yangyang let the silence stretch, just long enough for the promise to settle between them. then he nodded once, smile still beaming like it didnât cost him anything at all. he gave renjun one last look before clapping a hand to his back and heading into the house. the music swallowed him up again, laughter bubbling all around him. the partyâs pulse thrummed against his ribs as he moved through the crowd. then he felt the weight of eyes on him. his own gaze flicked up and there she was â love. his ex-girlfriend. renjunâs girl now. for a second, the noise around them dimmed. she didnât look away, didnât flinch. just held his gaze across the room, her expression caught between guilt and gentleness, the kind that held both apology and acceptance. yangyangâs chest twisted but he forced his mouth into a small smile. quiet. understanding. and she returned it â a tiny curve of her lips, a silent acknowledgement of everything they had been and everything they no longer were.
*end of flashback*
yangyangâs voice trailed off, the party fading from his memory as reality came crashing back into your small living room. the background noise of your t.v. hummed low, mixing with the sound of his uneven breathing. he looked smaller than usual, hunched forward like the weight of his words was still pressing on him.
âyou told him you forgive him?â you asked, incredulous, turning to face him fully, âbutâŠ.you donât.â you point out the obvious.
yangyang groaned, dragging both hands down his face before flopping back dramatically against the couch cushions, "i didnât know what else to say!,â his voice cracked somewhere between exasperation and despair, âwhat? am i supposed to keep playing the villain and not let them be happy!?â
you stared at him, heart aching and pressed your lips into a thin line, âyouâre not the villain, yang.â he tilted his head toward you, eyes glassy and vulnerable in a way he only ever let you see, ââyou donât have to forgive them if youâre not ready,â you added softly.
yangyang sniffled, reaching blindly for a tissue on your coffee table, âi hate this,â he muttered, voice muffled into the tissue as he wiped his nose, âi hate that i donât even hate them. likeâŠisnât that what iâm supposed to do? get angry? yell? throw a drink in someoneâs face?â
âyou?â you snorted, âplease. youâd apologize to the person you threw it at for wasting their drink.â
that earned you the tiniest huff of laughter, just enough to soften the tight line of his mouth. you leaned your head against the back of the couch, watching him. he sat criss-cross again, knee brushing yours, hair sticking up from where heâd been raking his hands through it. his chest still rose and fell unevenly, but at least he was breathing easier now.
âyouâre allowed to be hurt, you know. youâre allowed to let the world know how you truly feel.â you said quietly.
yangyang stuffed another tissue into his fist like he could bury all his pain in paper instead. âyeah, well,â he mumbled, forcing his voice into something lighter, âlucky for me, i donât need the world. iâve got you. free therapist, 24/7, no copay.â
you rolled your eyes, even as warmth bloomed unsteadily in your chest, âdonât flatter yourself. youâre paying me in pizza next time.â
âdeal,â he whispered, smiling weakly. then he let out a long, dramatic sigh, suddenly shifting and tossing the crumpled tissue onto your coffee table. before you could ask what he was doing, his arms reached out and hooked around you, tugging you straight into his chest.
âcome here,â he murmured, already nuzzling his chin on top of your head like it was second nature.
you groaned, squirming in protest, âyang, no! you reek of alcohol and i literally just showered!â
âdonât care,â he mumbled stubbornly, holding on tighter, âi need my emotional support teddy bear.â
you shoved lightly at his chest, wrinkling your nose, âyouâre gross. you smell like cheap beer and regret.â
he tilted his head down to grin at you, eyes glinting, âyou love it.â
âi absolutely do not!,â you shot back, though your voice wavered with a laugh.
âyes, you do,â he said, sing-song, tightening his arms until you gave up fighting, âyouâre addicted to me. admit it.â
âaddicted? please.â you rolled your eyes, but you didnât try to move away again, âyouâre lucky iâm too tired to throw you off my couch right now.â
yangyang chuckled, the sound rumbling through his chest against your cheek, âso basicallyâŠyou like me enough to suffer through the smell. thatâs real love, right there.â
you smacked his arm without much force, âdonât push it.â but your body betrayed you anyway. relaxing. softening. your head finding its place against his chest like it belonged there. his hand absently traced circles against your back, slow and soothing, the kind of touch that wasnât meant to mean anything but still felt like everything.
the t.v. murmured on in the background, the glow painting soft shadows across the room as the two of you sank deeper into the couch. yangyangâs heartbeat was too steady, too familiar, it lulled you, each breath syncing with his. the silence between you wasnât empty. it was lived in â a silence that had grown up with the two of you, evolving from playground whispers to late-night facetimes, from library study sessions to these countless evenings on your couch. it wasnât awkward, never had been. it was a blanket youâd both wrapped yourselves in a thousand times before, stitched together with years of knowing each otherâs rhythms, moods and unspoken words. and just when you thought heâd drifted off, his voice came low and quiet, threaded with a kind of sincerity he rarely let anyone hear â
âthanks for always listening to me, teddy.â
the nickname hit like it always did â tugging at the memory of a third grade classroom where it all began. to your favorite teddy bear lying on the floor, head ripped clean off from a game that got too rowdy, to your little hands clutching the broken stuffed toy, tears blurring your vision and yangyangâs panicked face staring at you like heâd ruined the world, crying with you. the very next day, he showed up to class with a brand new teddy bear in his arms â softer, cuddlier, shinier. heâd shoved it into your chest, muttering rushed apologies and awkward promise after awkward promise that heâd never hurt you again. and you, still sniffling, had promised him something too â that youâd be his best friend for as long as that teddy bear stayed with you. and it had. it still did. the years had worn it down, the fur dulled, one ear a little loose but it sat tucked safely in your bedroom. proof of a promise that hadnât been broken.
you closed your eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat, breathing him in despite the faint edge of alcohol clinging to him. this time, you didnât protest, didnât tease him, didnât make a joke to deflect the way your chest ached. you just let the words settle over you, warm and heavy. and like so many nights before, you drifted into sleep tangled up on the couch together. two best friends, bound by years and promises, still holding onto each other like that was enough.
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 15 - TUESDAY - PAINTING II.
out of every day of the week. yangyang has grown to hate tuesdays the most. he didnât even understand why he needed this class â he was set after graduation, internship locked in, his future lined up in neat little rows. but a degree was a degree and this class was just another box to check off. â painting ii. shouldâve been a class he enjoyed. he loved making things, experimenting with brushes and color, letting his hands move faster than his thoughts. now it just felt suffocating because, of course, renjun and love were in this class too. they came in together. side by side. her arm brushing his. renjun leaning close to whisper something that made her laugh effortlessly. yangyangâs jaw tightened but by the time they were in his line of vision, the mask was already back on. that same carefully constructed, almost-too-bright-iâm-fine smile.
âhey,â renjun greeted, his voice careful, still carrying the weight of fridayâs conversation.
yangyang just grinned, like it was nothing, âwhatâs up?â â easy. effortless. like he hadnât spend the entire weekend sprawled on your couch with romcoms on autoplay.
love gave him a small nod, polite, almostâŠgrateful. like she knew he was sparing them. like she was silently thanking him for playing along.
but where yangyangâs mask held steady, yours did not â from your seat next to him, you glared daggers so sharp they couldâve cut through steel. your sketchbook was open, pencil poised, but your entire focus was pinned on the couple like you were trying to set them on fire with sheer willpower. yangyang nudged your knee under the shared easel, subtle but firm, a small warning, âstop it,â he whispered, voice low enough that only you could hear. your eyes didnât move, âthey donât deserve your smile.â
he forced a quiet laugh, leaning back on his stool, the sound too casual, âand what? youâre gonna fight them with paintbrushes in the middle of class?â
âif i have to,â you muttered, jaw tight. he couldnât help it â despite everything, a smirk tugged at his lips. that was the thing about you. he could be unraveling and somehow, you still made him laugh.
âplay nice,â he murmured, shaking his head. you rolled your eyes, finally dragging your gaze back to the page.
right then, professor yuta strode to the front of the studio, clapping his hands once to get everyoneâs attention. his black hair was tied back loosely, smudges of paint already dotting his arms like heâd been working before class. âalright, everyone,â professor yuta began, his smile sharp, âtoday, youâre working in groups of four. youâll be sketching a concept for the universityâs cafe logo â nothing final, just ideas. think simple, think clear and most importantlyâ,â his gaze swept the room, landing on a few nervous students, â-think something i wonât throw in the trash immediately.â a wave of laughter and a few groans echoed throughout the room along with chairs scraping and stools shifting.
you and yangyang didnât even need to look at each other. it was automatic â you were a package deal. he angled himself towards you, already doodling a goofy smiley face in the corner like he owned the space.
âguess itâs us,â he said, teasing.
âlike it was ever going to be anyone else,â you shot back, leaning over to draw another smiley beside his. he snorted softly, the tension in his shoulders easing for the first time that morning. but before he could completely fall into it, shadows fell across your table.
âhey guys,â a familiar voice said. you froze mid-scribble. renjun stood there, love right beside him, her hand brushing his sleeve like it always seemed to do these days. both of them were looking at you and yangyang with polite expressions as if this made perfect sense, as if nothing happened and everything was completely like the way it was before.
âlooks like everyone else is already grouped up,â renjun explained, careful, almost apologetic, âmind if we join?â
yangyangâs smile flickered for half a second, the mask threatening to slip, but he caught it just in time. by the time he looked up, it was firmly in place again, âsure,â he said lightly, with a shrug that cost him more than heâd admit. you, however, werenât nearly as composed. your pencil pressed hard enough against the page it nearly snapped. you forced your lips into a thin line, offering a curt nod that was more grit than grace.
renjun slid into the seat across from yangyang, love sat beside him, right across from you, her gaze flickering to yangyang for a fleeting second, soft and unreadable, before she looked away. yangyang leaned back in his chair, drumming his pen against his notebook like it was just another tuesday. but you knew better.
renjun set his sketchpad down, pencil already moving with the quiet focus he always had. beside him, love leaned over to peek at his lines, her laugh spilling soft and easy when he drew a messy curve. she nudged his elbow, teasing and he caught her wrist in that causal, familiar way. the kind that made yangyangâs stomach twist even if his smile didnât falter. you had gone still, brush in hand, staring at the blank paper in front of you. yangyang nudged you lightly with his knee again, a silent reminder. play nice. you forced yourself to dip into the paint, sketching out rough shapes.
âso,â love said, tone bright, âmaybe something with a coffee cup? simple lines, but kind of cozy?â
renjun nodded immediately, âyeah, and maybe we add steam that curls into letters â N C T U. what do you guys think?â
yangyang tapped his pencil against his page, pretending to consider it, ânot bad,â he said lightly, âcozy but still sharp. professor yuta might actually not throw it away.â
renjun laughed under his breath, loveâs shoulder brushing his as she leaned closer. the sound of it â soft, unguarded, theirs â filled the small silence that fell over your half of the table. you clenched your jaw. picked up your brush. painted one hard, deliberate line that nearly split the page. and before you could stop yourself, the words slipped outâ
âgod, could you two justâŠnot? we get it. youâre in love. rub it in, why donât you.â
the brush clattered a little too loudly against the jar of water when you dropped it. silence. renjun froze, pencil hovering midair, his shoulders going rigid. his eyes darted up to you, almost guilty, then quickly away, jaw tightening like he didnât trust himself to respond. love blinked, caught between shock and guilt, her hand pausing on the page as though sheâd forgotten what she was supposed to be doing.
the air went brittle â and then yangyang burst out an awkward laugh, too quick, too loud, too bright. it cracked through the silence like a sparkle burning too hot. âHAHAHAââ he drawled, arm swinging up and draping across your shoulder, pulling you into the curve of his space like it was all just a joke, âsheâs kidding guys. donât mind her. sarcasmâs practically her love language.â his grin was wide, practiced. the kind of grin that screamed easygoing, no harm done, letâs move on. but the weight of his arm pressed heavier than usual and when he turned his head to look at you, the smile didnât reach his eyes. that pointed look said it all. and you understood what he was trying to say without even saying anything at all â cut it out. stop. please.
you let out a cough, âyeah, kidding,â you murmured, forcing out a fake chuckle. the word tasted bitter but you swallowed it down anyway, for his sake.
the next forty minutes dragged on like hours. renjun kept his comments short, never quite meeting your eyes. love spoke in measured bursts, careful and polite, her laughter gone. you stuck to clipped answers and yangyangâŠ.yangyang was everywhere. he cracked dumb jokes, nudged renjun into laughing once or twice, redirected loveâs feedback to you with a soft, âhear that? she likes your idea.â every time the tension threatened to snap, he was already there, smiling over the cracks.
by the time professor yuta strolled past to glance at your groupâs progress, it looked decent enough â a cozy coffee cup, steam curling into the letters NCTU, framed with warm tones and textured brushstrokes. he hummed approvingly, lingering for a second, âlooks good, you four work well together.â
your laugh almost bubbled up at the irony but yangyang beat you to it, âthanks professor,â he said smoothly. perfect smile, perfect tone, like nothing was wrong.
finally, professor yuta clapped his hands together at the front of the room, âtimeâs up, brushes down. weâll review the final drafts next class.â the usual post-class chatter buzzed low around the studio. you shoved your brushes into the case a little too hard, movements sharp, clipped. beside you, yangyang was quieter than usual, his tiredness bleeding through. you caught renjun and love laughing softly at something as they packed up. the sound was small, barely there but it crawled under your skin like barbed wire. you could practically feel your blood boil. yangyang noticed them. he always did. and this time, instead of nudging your knee or shooting you that warning look, he just stood â bag slung over his shoulder, eyes forward. he didnât say goodbye. he just jerked his chin toward the door, a silent letâs go, and slipped out the classroom. you followed, trying to keep up with his pace. but the moment you were far away enough from the art room, he snapped.
âwhy did you have to act like that?!â yangyangâs voice was sharp, he whirled on you, brows knit tight, anger crackling off him like static, âyou couldnât just let it go for once?!â
you blinked at him, incredulous, heat rushing to your cheeks, âlet it go? yang, are you serious right now?â your own voice shot back, louder than you meant, ââiâm sick of them acting like they can just waltz back into your life like nothing happened. like they didnâtââ you stopped, chest heaving, words catching, ââlike they didn't rip your heart out!â
his jaw clenched, âyou think i donât know that?â
âthen why are you letting them sit across from you like itâs fine?!,â you threw your hands up, protective instinct spilling over into rage, âyouâre the one whoâs been breaking on my couch for days, yang! and iâm supposed to justâŠsit there and watch you smile at them like they deserve it?â
âbecause its not about you!â he snapped back, louder this time. heads turned from students lingering down the hall, the echo of his voice bouncing off the walls. his own voice cracked on the edges, fraying, âitâs my mess. my pain. not yours to fight for!â
the words hit harder than you expected, cutting deeper than you wanted to admit. you were a package deal. you take one, you take the other. you hurt one, you hurt the other. apparentlyâŠnot â you stood there in the hallway, silence ringing in your ears, chest tight, fists curled at your sides. yangyang dragged a hand through his hair, pacing two steps away like he needed the space to breathe. his shoulders heaved, every inch of him vibrating with that mix of rage and hurt he usually hid under jokes and easy smiles.
and now, he wasnât just upset with them. he was upset with you.
ânot mine to fight for?â you repeated, your voice low now, shaking with the effort of holding yourself together, âdonât you get it? every time youâre hurting, iâm hurting, too,â you stopped, chest heaving, like the words themselves were choking you.
yangyangâs laugh was hollow, ugly, a sound that wasnât really a laugh at all. âyou donât get it. i donât need a bodyguard, okay!? i donât need you storming in like youâre gonna save me. i just needââ he cut himself off, teeth gritted, fists clenching tight, âi just need you to let me handle it.â
your throat burned, âhandle it?! yang, all you do is pretend. pretend youâre fine, pretend youâre over it, pretend their smiles donât cut you in half. you call that handling it?â
he turned on you, eyes blazing, âbecause if i stop pretending, iâll fall apart! and i canâtââ his voice cracked, raw and sharp, before he swallowed it down, "i can't be that pathetic.â
the words slammed into you, heavy and unyielding. you wanted to reach for him. to tell him he wasnât pathetic. to remind him youâd hold every broken piece if he let you â but he was already pulling back, shaking his head like your closeness was the last thing he could stand.
âjustâŠstop.â his voice was quieter now, but it cut all the same, âstop fighting battles that arenât yours. stop making it harder.â
you stood there, nails biting into your palms, your heart a mess of fury and ache. for a second, you thought about pushing further, about forcing him to see that you werenât just some bystander in his wreckage. but the way he looked at you â pleading, furious, exhausted â froze you in place. so instead, you let out a bitter laugh, âfine.â the word cracked like glass. âif thatâs what you want, then handle it. alone.â
his jaw flexed like he wanted to take it back, like something inside him was tearing. but he didnât. he just nodded once, curt and turned on his heel. the two of you walked in opposite directions down the hall, footsteps echoing, backs stiff. neither of you looked back. and for the first time since the third grade, yangyang has consciously broken his promise.
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 18 - FRIDAY - MR. BEAR
three days. it had been three days since that fight in the hallway. three days since the last time yangyang has spoken to you. three days of passing each other on campus like strangers, of him veering left when you went right, of group chats where his replies skipped right over you like you werenât even there.
thirteen years of friendship, and never â never â had it gone this long. youâd shared lunch tables, secrets, and late-night video calls. youâd cheered each other through every minor victory, every heartbreak. youâd even applied to the same internship, bending and shifting your choices to make sure you were in each otherâs orbit. there was no version of your life in which he wasnât there. no version where the silence between you stretched out like this. and yet here you were, trapped in a version you hadnât chosen. like heâd built a wall and left you on the other side.
your apartment felt smaller than ever. you sat cross-legged on your bed, your textbooks splayed open but ignored. no matter how many times you read the same line, your brain refuses to absorb it. all you could think about was yangyang.
the brown, worn-down teddy bear sat propped up against your pillow, itâs button eyes staring. you reached for it, clutching it to your chest, your frustration boiling over âcan you believe him, mr. bear?â your voice cracked through the silence, sharp and small all at once. you jabbed a finger at the bearâs stitched face, âheâs actually mad at me? out of all people?!â you pulled the bear back to glare at its faded smile, your voice rising, âiâm the one whoâs been there through everything. iâm the one who picked him up when he couldnât even get out of bed. iâm the one who stayed when she left! and heâs mad at me?â the bearâs head lolled to the side, its seams sagging, like it was tired of listening to all of your secrets. you laughed bitterly, shaking your head, âitâs likeâwhat? heâd rather i sit there quietly while he smiles through the pain? am i supposed to just watch that?!â your throat burned, your eyes stinging. you hugged the bear close, pressing your face into its worn fur, your words muffled against it. âhe says itâs not my fight,â you whispered, raw and hoarse, âbut if i donât fight for him, then who will?â
the silence stretched, heavy and unyielding. the old bear didnât answer. it never did. you glared at itâs worn down eyes, âyouâve seen everything, you know? every meltdown, every dumb heartbreak, every midnight pizza run. and now the silent treatment! heâs soâUGH!â
you didnât hear the door creak. didnât notice the smell of pepperoni hit the air, âwow,â came a voice youâd know from anywhere, dripping with mock astonishment, âthree days of silence and youâve officially lost it. yelling at mr. bear? should i be worried?â
your head snapped up. yangyang stood in your bedroomâs doorway, pizza box balanced on one hand, his expression somewhere between smug and fond. your heart lurched so hard you almost dropped the bear, âwhat the hell are you doing here?â
he stepped inside your bedroom like he owned the place. âfulfilling my promise, i owe you pizza remember,â he waved the box, âfigured three days was long enough for you to stop being mad.â
you sat up straighter, arms crossing tight over your chest, heat prickling your cheeks, âi wasnât talking to mr. bear.â
he smirked, setting the box down on your desk, âyeah, okay, teddyâŠnext thing i know youâll be asking it for relationship advice.â
âdonât call me that.â you muttered, your pout deepening even as your chest pinched the way it always did when he said it. yangyang just grinned wider, like heâd been waiting to use it again. he dragged your desk chair over, spun it around, and straddled it backward â his usual move when he wanted to make himself comfortable. his eyes flicked from the bear to you, amusement softening into something quieter.
âlook,â he started, voice lower now, âi know i was an ass. i shouldnât have snapped at you in the hall. i justââ he ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more, ââi donât want them to know iâm falling apartâŠitâsâŠsad and pathetic. not everyone has to see that side of me.â
your heart thudded painfully against your ribs at the honesty in his tone. âyouâre not pathetic,â you whispered, âbut youâre human, yangâŠnot a fucking robot. so stop acting like one.â
yangyang tilted his head, that crooked smile tugging at the corner of his lips upon hearing his nickname, âsoâŠtruce? or do i need to get mr. bearâs approval too?â
you rolled your eyes, lips pursed in a stubborn line, âthree days of silence and you just show up with pizza like nothing happened? like that fixes everything?â
yangyang raised his brows, completely unfazed, he rolled the chair closer until your knees brushed, âi meanâŠyeah? pizza fixes most things. donât act like it hasnât worked the last fifty times weâve fought.â
âthat was different,â you huffed, turning your face away, nose wrinkled, âthis was the worst fight weâve ever had. you were an asshole.â
he smirked, tapping his fingers against your chair, âi was. and youâre still sulking about it like a five year old so i guess weâre even.â
you whipped your head back toward him, glaring, âi am not sulking.â
âoh, no?â he leaned forward, tapping a finger against your pout, then gestured at mr. bear, âso you werenât just yelling at a stuffed toy when i walked in?â
your cheeks heat instantly, but you cross your arms tighter, chin jutting out, âthatâs different. he understands me better than you do right now.â
that got him â yangyang laughed, loud and unrestrained, tipping his head back until the chair wobbled dangerously, âwow. replaced by a bear i bought. didnât see that one coming.â
you refused to smile, even though the corners of your mouth betrayed you by twitching, âyou donât get to joke your way out of this.â
he leaned closer, grin softening but still teasing, âyouâre pouting so hard right now iâm shocked your face isnât stuck like that...câmon teddy, just admit you missed me.â
your heart pounded again, the proximity dizzying. you swallowed hard, âi didnât.â
his eyes glinted, unaware of his effect towards you, voice dropping, âyou so did.â you groaned, throwing a pillow at him, which he caught one-handed, still laughing.
ââ and i missed you too, you know?,â his voice slipped quieter, softer, the grin fading into something that made your heart skip a beat.
you blinked, your pout faltering, âwell, you sure had a funny way of showing it. three days, yang. three.â
he winced dramatically, hand over his heart, âtrust me, i felt every second. do you know how boring life is without you? i had to actuallyâŠlisten to henderyâs girl problems.â
a reluctant snort escaped you, but it melted quickly into a sigh, âyou deserve worse than that.â
âyeah,â he said quietly, eyes finding yours, the teasing fading into honesty, âi know. and iâm sorry, teddy. for snapping at you. for acting like i didnât need you. because i do.â
your throat went tight, the stubborn wall youâd been holding up all week cracking in two, âyangââ
âno, let me say it,â his voice broke slightly, softer than youâd heard it in weeks, âyouâre the only one whoâs been on my side through all of this. and iâŠi took it out on you. that was messed up. you didnât deserve that.â
you swallowed hard, âi only snapped because i care,â you say, voice shaky but firm, âseeing you pretend like youâre fine when i know youâre notâit drives me crazy. i canât just sit back and watch them hurt you. iâm not as nice as you are.â
yangyang moved onto the bed, even closer now, his usual cocky grin nowhere in sight. just him, raw and open, âi know. and iâm sorry for making you feel like it wasnât your place. it is. youâve always been my place.â
your heart slammed against your ribs so hard it hurt. he didnât mean it the way you wanted him to. you knew that. but the words still stole your breath.
âgod, youâre such a dummy,â you whispered, rolling your eyes playfully to hide the blush that was forming on the apple of your cheeks.
he smiled faintly, hand reaching out to nudge the bear against your arm, âyeah, but iâm your dummy, right?â
you let out a shaky laugh, finally leaning into him, into that familiar warmth youâd missed so much, âyeah. you are.â and when his arm curled around you, pulling you against his chest, your pulse went wild. to him, it was comfort. to you, it was everything.
âiâm sorry, too,â you murmured into his shirt, the words muffled but certain.
âdonât worry about it,â he whispered back, pressing his cheek into your hair, âno more silent treatments. ever.â
you hummed, forcing yourself to sound steady even as your heart thudded erratically. âagreed. now letâs eat the pizza before it gets cold,â you finally pried open the pizza box, the smell of melted cheese filling the room, sharp and comforting all at once. yangyang reached over immediately, snatching the biggest slice like it belonged to him by right.
âhey!â you protested, swatting at his wrist.
he smirked around a mouthful of cheese, âwhat? you need to be faster next time.â rolling your eyes, you grabbed your own slice, too hungry to argue properly. the only sounds were chewing and the occasional crunch of crust, the tension finally bleeding out of the room. when the last of the pizza was gone, you leaned back against the headboard, full and sleepy, mr. bear perched loyally at your side. yangyang stretched out with a groan, flopping back across your bed like he owned the whole thing.
âugh, i swear, no one makes better pizza than that place,â he said, one hand resting over his stomach, eyes drifting shut.
you gave him a look, âyouâre literally about to pass out, arenât you?â
he cracked one eye open, a lazy grin tugging at his lips, âmaybe. this bedâs comfier than mine anyway.â
your heart gave that stupid lurch again. âyou canât just fall asleep here,â you muttered, though your voice lacked conviction.
âwhy not?â he asked, already burrowing into your blanket like a cat, âwe used to do this all the time. remember middle school? after movie marathons? or those all nighters we pulled in senior year?â
of course you remembered. you remembered every one. the sleepovers only stopped when you had your first boyfriend in first year. then was put on hold again when yangyang was dating love. you hesitated, then sighed, scooting down beside him, âfine. but youâre on blanket-sharing probation. you hog it every time.â
âpfft,â he scoffed, already tugging the comforter toward himself, âyouâre just bad at blanket defense.â
you rolled your eyes again but didnât argue, curling up with mr. bear clutched against you. a quiet settled over the room, not the brittle, painful silence of the past three days, but the warm, comfortable kind that wrapped around like the blanket you were reluctantly sharing. your pulse thrummed as yangyang shifted closer, his arm draping over your stomach in that absent, thoughtless way he always did when sleep tugged at him. your body tensed instantly, your heart hammering loud enough you were sure he could hear it. but he didnât. of course he didnât. yangyangâs breathing evened out within minutes, his forehead brushing the side of your hair as he slipped under, blissfully unaware of the way every inch of you was burning at the contact. you stared at the wall, hugging mr. bear tighter, trying to steady your racing heartbeat. eventually, exhaustion pulled at your own limbs and you let your eyes close, letting yourself sink into the warmth of him. the last thing you heard before sleep claimed you was his soft, steady breathing â familiar, safe, home. and just like that, the old routine returned. the fight, the silence, the ache â it all melted into the simple truth of where you belonged â pressed against him, even if heâd never know what it truly meant for you.
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 20 - SUNDAY - SHOTARO.
sunday evening. 6PM. you needed a release â some way to get yangyang out of your head because the last week had been chaotic. the endless rants, the cuddling, the hallway fight, the silent treatment. you couldnât even sit through a single class without thinking about him. your frustration needed an outlet, and you knew exactly where to turn. you grabbed your phone, texting the one person that was easy. no pleasantries. no teasing. just a blunt:
y/n: u busy?
shotaro: be there in 5
shotaro arrived just like that. the one person who never asked for explanations. no cuddling afterward, no holding, no lingering â just pure release. as soon as the door shut behind him, your hands were on him, pulling him into your bedroom. clothes became a nuisance, tossed carelessly to your bedroom floor. he was underneath you in seconds, hands and lips working in tandem. you straddled him, letting the heat build, letting the frustration and longing youâd been bottling for yangyang spill out.
âgod, is this about yangyang again?â shotaro murmured against your skin, teasing in that familiar, knowing way.
âdonât say his name.â you sneered, as you grabbed a condom from your night stand and handed it to him. he wrapped his member with ease, smirking up at you with a teasing grin. you groaned, eyes squeezing shut, âdonât look at me like thatâŠjustâŠfuck me.â
his grin widened, sharp and wicked, before he grabbed your hips and sunk you down. the stretch burned, the ache was sharp but it was exactly what you needed. you rode him, let the world shrink down to skin, heat and sweat. no words, no names, just sex. he whispered little taunts under his breath, teasing you for your obvious crush, obvious to everyone except your best friend himself, but it only made you grind harder, your mind too scattered, too desperate to focus on anything else.
âfuck,â shotaro groaned, his hands gripping your thighs, watching the way your body moved against him, âyouâre always so tight when youâre wound up like this.â you didnât answer, just rode him harder, chasing the friction, chasing the distraction. your hair fell into your face, your chest heaving, nails biting into his shoulders as you moved. shotaro chuckled, low and teasing, âwhy donât you just tell him? save yourself theâaghâtrouble of coming to me every time you get worked up over your best friend.â
âshut up,â you moaned, slamming down harder on him, chasing the sharp crack of pleasure, âi didnât call you here for advice, i called you here for dick.â
he laughed amusedly, âsay less.â and in one quick motion, he flipped you onto your back, pinning your wrists above your head with one hand, driving into you deep, fast, relentless. the shift knocked the breath out of you, a cry tearing from your throat. âthis what you needed?â shotaroâs voice was ragged now, his mouth brushing your ear as he thrust harder, rougher, "something to get him out of your head?â
âfuckâfuck, just like thatâfuck meâjust fuck meââ you arched beneath him, words breaking into high-pitched moans, nails dragging down his back. the rhythm was sharp, unforgiving, each thrust grounding you in the heat of now, pulling you further and further from the ache that had been gnawing at you all week.
âąáŽ„âą
yangyang let himself into your apartment, unannounced, like he had been doing for the past month, ever since you gave him the code to your door. it was supposed to be like always â raid your fridge, sprawl on your couch, crash out about the same things over and over again until he gets tired enough and falls asleep. but halfway to your bedroom, he froze. the sound hit him like a slap â your voice, high and breathless, tangled in sharp moans. the wet rhythm of skin slapping against skin, faster, harder. the kind of noises he shouldnât be hearing coming out from you.
ââŠfuck meâjust fuck meââ
his stomach dropped. his brain short-circuited. he should leave. god, he should leave. but his feet stayed rooted, his chest tight, his throat dry. he couldnât move, couldnât breathe, couldnât stop hearing you. the words punched through him and then the answering growl from a man he didnât recognize. deep. smug. taking you apart. he staggered back, heart racing, palms sweaty. he couldnât go closer. but he also couldnât bring himself to walk out. so he dropped into your couch instead, head in his hands, staring blankly at the dark t.v. screen. the sounds from your room carried â every moan, every gasp, every filthy slap of skin against skin. they painted pictures in his head heâd never once let himself imagine. pictures that had his cock twitching, heat pooling low in his gut before he even realized it.
âshit,â he whispered under his breath, shifting uncomfortably. but nothing helped. every noise made it worse â youâd always been his best friend. his constant. heâd never thought about you like this, not once. and now all he could think about was what your face looked like when you cried out, what your body looked like under someone elseâs hands. he sat there, trapped, every muscle locked tight, his heart thundering out of control. listening as another man fucked you in a room heâd wandered into a thousand times before.
âąáŽ„âą
you came undone with a gasp, fingers digging into shotaroâs shoulders as his hips snapped up one last time. he groaned, body tensing before spilling into the condom, the both of you collapsing into the sheets at the same time. for a moment, the only sound was heavy breathing. then, as always, the spell broke. no kisses. no cuddles. no gentle aftermath. just silence and the faint, sweat-slick smell of sex. you pulled the hem of your oversized t-shirt, youâre sure is yangyangâs, letting it fall just enough to cover your thighs, âget out,â you muttered, already reaching for the water bottle by your nightstand.
shotaro just laughed, eyes crinkling with that easy expression he always had, âefficient as ever,â he rolled out of bed, tugging his cargo pants up without a care, âbut damnâŠworth it.â
a few minutes later, shotaro padded out of your bedroom, running a hand through his already misheveled hair. you didnât bother walking him out the door, staying rooted at the ede of your bed. but the second he stepped into your living room, he froze.
âuhâŠhi,â yangyang blurted, voice loud enough to snap you right back into your body.
âyang?â you stumbled out of your bedroom and into the living room, in nothing but your best friend's shirt and your blue underwear, heart leaping into your throat, âwhat are you doing here?â
he stuttered immediately, eyes wide, trying to ignore the fact that youâre wearing his shirt, âiâi just got here, iâll just, uhm goââ
shotaro, completely unfazed and clearly enjoying the tension, cut in smoothly as he headed towards your door, âno worries, man. i was already on my way out.â
the casual tone, the little smirk on his face, the way yangyangâs ears burned bright red made the air between you sharp, electric, almost unbearable. and then the door clicked shut behind your fuck buddy.
for a second, the apartment was too quiet. just you. just yangyang. just the faint scent of sex lingering and his oversized t-shirt clinging to your skin. yangyang leaned back into your couch cushions, smirking like he had the upper hand, though his posture screamed otherwise. you could tell he was trying to look casual but the way he shifted, one of your throw pillows clutched across his lap, gave him away.
âsoâŠâ he drawled, lips twitching, âyou and shotaro, huh?â
âshut up,â you shot him a glare but he only laughed.
you marched past him toward the kitchen, snatching up the abandoned empty pizza box you still needed to throw out, just to have something to do with your hands, âwe just fuck sometimes. thatâs it. donât make it a big deal.â
yangyang let out a low whistle, rocking forward on the couch, âdamn. my best friendâs got a whole secret sex life i didnât know about.â his eyes sparkled with mischief, âkinda proud, teddy. lowkey impressed you snatched mr. dancing machine.â
you shot him a look sharp enough to cut glass, âi shouldâve never given you the code to my door. you muttered, tossing the crumpled pizza box into the trash with a little too much force.
when you turned back, you caught him shifting uncomfortably, one of your throw pillows suddenly clutched across his lap. he tries to play it off, âwhat? no way. best gift you ever gave me. unlimited therapy session. plus i get to waltz in whenever i want. itâs likeââ he made a sweeping gesture, pillow still in place, âa VIP membership to your life.â
âyeah, a VIP membership to walk in on things you really shouldnât,â you shot back, raising a brow.
he groaned, tipping his head back against the couch dramatically, âokay fair, but how was i supposed to know youâd beâŠyou knowâŠâ he waved vaguely in the direction of your bedroom, like he could erase the memory with a gesture.
you crossed your arms, trying not to grin too much, âthatâs why next time, maybe text first?â
you couldnât help but notice how tightly he was clutching your throw pillow, fingers digging in like he was holding on for dear life. the fabric stretched under his knuckles and the way his arm trembled slightly didnât escape your attention. âyangâŠâ you said, tilting your head, voice playful but pointed, âwhy are you gripping my pillow like that?
he froze instantly, the pillow almost molded to the shape of his hand and a faint flush crept up his neck, âi-iâm notâŠâ his voice trailed off and he shifted awkwardly on the couch, trying to loosen his grip without actually letting go.
âmhmm,â you crossed your arms, smirking despite your own heart hammering in your chest as you stepped closer, ââthatâs a very relaxed way to hold a pillow, donât you think?â
his jaw tightened, eyes darting away, but the tension radiating off him was impossible to ignore, âi-itâs just comfortable,â he muttered, still holding the pillow like it was shielding him from the world.
you laughed softly, crossing your arms, pretending to inspect him critically, âi see everything, you know. every little thing you try to hide,â you said, voice teasing, eyes sparkling as you let your words hang in the air.
his ears burned bright red, a mix of exasperation and embarrassment in his expression, âshut up,â he muttered. you walked over and with one swift motion, you yanked the pillow out of his grip before he could stop you. the second it left his hands, you caught the undeniable confirmation â the hard outline pressed against his sweats. your jaw dropped, then you burst into uncontrollable laughter, clutching your stomach, âyou did not seriously get a boner over that. are you a teenager?!,â you gasped between laughter, pointing at him.
yangyangâs face blazed, âcan you really blame me? that was likeâŠaudio porn!â
you laughed even harder, slapping your knees, unable to believe what you were seeing. he scowled for a moment, then suddenly lunged at you, toppling you backward onto the couch, âokay, you asked for this!,â he declared. the tickle fight that followed left you squealing, squirming beneath him, his hands grabbing at your sides and ribs, laughter spilling out of both of you. but as your bodies pressed together in the struggle, you felt it â the hard, unmistakable heat of him pressing right against the thin cotton of your panties.
yangyang froze for a split second, his eyes wide as he realized you might feel it too. the laughter caught in your throat, replaced by a sharp inhale. both of you were suddenly hyper-aware of just how wrong it was to be half-naked and ridiculously turned on while pretending to have a childish tickle fight. the room feeling heavy and charged âplayfulness collapsing into something dangerous.
yangyang cleared his throat and rolled off you like the couch had burned him. you scrambled upright, tugging the hem of his shirt lower, refusing to meet his eyes. the silence was unbearable. so you reached for the remote and flicked the t.v. on. you curled up at the far end of the couch, he leaned against the opposite armrest, still flushed, the pillow back on his lap, pretending to look interested in whatever nonsense flashed on screen. but you could feel the weight of him. the silence between you wasnât just awkward, it was suffocating. finally, desperate to cut through it, you risked a sideways glance at him and muttered, â...do you, uhâŠneed help with that?â
yangyangâs head whipped towards you, eyes blown wide, like youâd just detonated a bomb in the middle of the room. his lips parted, no words at first. color rushed up his neck, burning his ears. he scoffed weakly, shaking his head, âyouâre joking.â
were you? you werenât even sure. youâd do anything for him if he asked. but of course, he didnât need to know that.
âof course, iâm joking,â you forced out a teasing grin, leaning back against the cushions, âgo to my bathroom and take care of it.â
he groaned, rolling his eyes and threw the pillow at you, âshut up. letâs justâŠtalk about something else and itâll go away.â
you tossed the pillow aside, smirking, âokay, what do you want to talk about?â
he cleared his throat, clearly grateful for the subject change, though his voice was still rough at the edges. his mind wandered back to the real reason heâd come over in the first place. âi saw them again today,â he started, eyes fixed on the t.v. though he wasnât really watching. you sighed, sinking back into your side of the couch, already bracing yourself for another one of his renjun and love venting sessions.
âąáŽ„âą
later that evening, when yangyang shut the door to his room and collapsed onto his bed, it all came rushing back â the sound of your moans, the sight of you in his shirt, the feel of your body warm beneath his. and then your voice, low and teasing, brushing the edges of something dangerous.
â...do you, uhâŠneed help with that?â
what if heâd said yes? would you really have done it? would you have dropped to your knees for him, lips wrapping around his cock, swallowing every ragged sound heâd make? the thought made his whole body tense, his cock throbbing so hard it hurt. a groan tore out of his chest as his hand slipped beneath his waistband, wrapping around himself. he was already leaking, already too far gone from hours of being so fucking hard. his strokes were rough, fast, chasing that impossible image of you â your mouth stretched around him, eyes flicking up, smug and playful even as you hollowed your cheeks. the more he pictured it, the more unbearable it became, until his hips were snapping into his fist, muscles drawn tight as wire. heat coiled sharp and low before it snapped all at once, spilling across his stomach in thick, messy ropes. his head tipped back against the pillow with a guttural curse, relief hitting so hard his thighs trembled.
all he could do was breathe. and when his chest finally slowed, as the sweat cooled on his skin, the guilt crept in â he stared at the ceiling, jaw tight, trying to shove the images away, trying to convince himself it didnât matter. that it didnât mean anything. that he was just pent up, just needed a release. that it wasnât about you.
he wiped his hand on a tissue, tossing it blindly toward the trash and dragged both palms over his face. never again. he told himself. this canât happen again. because you were his best friend. the one person he could be stupid with, unfiltered with. the one person he trusted more than anyone. he couldnât let a few reckless urges ruin thirteen years of friendship. he wouldnât. he swore it to himself, jaw set tight in the dark. sheâs my best friend, he thought. thatâs all she is. thatâs all she can be. but even as the words repeated in his head, he felt how flimsy they were. like paper trying to hold back a flood. because even as exhaustion pulled him under, the realization hit him hard. for the first time in weeks, the thought of you had replaced the thought of her.
not his ex. not the best friend who broke his heart.
just you.
and somehow, that terrified him more than anything else.
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 22 - TUESDAY - JEALOUSY.
it had only been a week since the four of you last sat in this class together. a week wasnât long. the classroom hadnât changed. the paint-splattered stools, the faint smell of paint, the hum of pencils scratching against sketchbooks.
but yangyang felt completely different.
a week ago, all he could see was them â renjun and love. sitting just a few feet away, whispering into each otherâs ears, trading smiles so soft they might as well have been knives. watching them had been torture. watching them had cracked him open, ripped at his scars until they burned fresh again.
but nowâŠnow all he could think about was you.
you, sitting right beside him, bent over your sketchpad as you finalized the outlines for the cafeâs logo. the brush of your arm against his, the warmth of your thigh grazing his under the table â it was all suddenly unbearable. at one point you leaned just slightly closer to point out something on your paper and yangyang swore he forgot how to breathe. a week ago, this wouldnât have registered. he would've been too wrapped up in heartbreak, in hating how much renjun and love looked like the perfect pair. but today, his focus had shifted. things he never noticed before, things he brushed off as meaningless, now had his pulse stuttering in his veins. every laugh you let slip, every time you slapped his thigh when the laughter was too much to hold in, every absentminded brush of your fingers against his, every small, careless detail of your presence, every innocent point of contact â felt like a jolt to his system.
renjun slid his sketchpad forward, tapping his pencil against the rim of the drawn coffee cup, âi added a little more detail to the cup,â he explained, casual but confident, âjust to highlight the main focus.â
you leaned in to look, lips curling into something polite and careful, âthatâs actually really nice,â you said, your tone smooth, deliberate, âthe way you shaded the curve makes it look sharper. good detail.â
you were playing nice. yangyang knew it. he was the one who begged you to not make things harder and you were just doing exactly what he wished for. but now â all yangyang heard was the softness in your voice when you praised renjun, all he saw was the way you leaned in to look closer. his hand froze mid-stroke, pencil hovering above his page. his thoughts consuming him. why do you have to lean in like that? why do you sound so impressed when you talk to him? jealousy burned in his gut, hot and sour. his ex-girlfriend had already chosen renjun over him. would you, too?
renjun looked between the two of you, then casually asked, âwhat do you think, yang? too much shading?â
yangyang blinked, yanked back to the conversation. âyeah. probably. itâs a little overdone.â his voice was sharper than he meant it to be, his pencil pressing too hard against his own page.
renjun frowned, looking at his sketch. âi was just trying toââ
ââmake it perfect, i know,â yangyang cut in quickly, forcing a laugh that didnât land, âclassic renjun, mr. detail.â
you shifted slightly, glancing at him out of the corner of your eye. not a word â just a look he understood immediately. the one that asked, whatâs wrong with you?
then you looked at renjun, muttering out an encouraging, âi like it. donât listen to yangyang.â before redirecting your gaze back to your best friend, searching for answers. finally, he shook his head, sharp and small, and when he didnât elaborate, you exhaled softly and turned back to the page.
yangyang forced his pencil back to the paper but the jealousy didnât fade. class went on. renjun and love whispered to each other across from him, trading notes and soft smiles, while yangyang continued to sit stiff beside you, pretending to sketch. every time you leaned forward to ask renjun a question or murmured something polite, his chest tightened, green burning under his ribs. he didnât say a word though. just let it fester, chewing on the inside of his cheek until class finally ended.
the four of you packed up. renjun and love left first. you slung your bag over your shoulder, waiting for yangyang to grab his things. it wasnât until you stepped out into the hallway, the classroom door swinging shut behind you, that he finally spoke, âyou were being awfully nice,â he said, low, almost casual but not really.
you blinked, glancing sideways at him, âhuh?â
he shrugged, eyes fixed forward, like it was no big deal, âto them. to renjun.â
your brow furrowed, piecing the pieces together, âokay, waitââ you stopped walking, forcing him to stop too, âso, let me get this straight. last week you literally ignored me for being mean to them and now youâre mad that iâm nice?â
yangyangâs jaw clenched. he didnât have a good answer and he knew it, âiâm not mad.â
you scoffed, âyou sound mad.â
âiâm not,â he insisted, sharper this time. but his voice cracked halfway through, betraying him.
your eyes narrowed, âthen what is it?â
his jaw tightened, ânothing.â
you folded your arms, not letting him off that easy, âbullshit. youâve been sulking since renjun showed his sketch. so go onâŠsay it. whatâs actually bothering you?â
yangyang looked at you then, finally meeting your eyes and for a split second something raw flickered there. but just as quickly, he shoved it down. âitâs justââ he faltered, then forced a laugh. âyou donât have to praise him like heâs picasso, okay? itâs just a coffee cup.â
you stared at him, incredulous, âthatâs what this is about? youâre jealous overâŠshading?â
his ears went red, âiâm not jealous.â
you raised a brow, âright. whatever you say.â
he groaned, dragging a hand down his face, âgod, youâre impossible.â
âand youâre ridiculous!â you shot back, but softer now, playful. you sighed, letting your arms drop, âi was just trying to do what you asked me to do. be nice. keep the peace.â
that silenced him. his throat bobbed as he swallowed, guilt flashing across his expression before he shoved it away again. for a moment, neither of you said anything. the hallway buzzed faintly with other students passing by but between you two, the tension pressed thick and heavy.
yangyang finally muttered, barely audible, âyeahâŠi know. i justâŠdonât like it.â
you blinked at him, then let out a short laugh before a smirk took over your face, casual, easy, ârelax. iâm not about to run off and join their little lovefest. youâre stuck with me, dummy.â
that tugged a reluctant chuckled out of him, low and quiet, but enough to soften the edges of his jealousy. the two of you walked on, the tension easing into something familiar again â banter layered over the unsaid, like always.
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 25 - FRIDAY - SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN.
the bass downstairs rattles the floorboards, the whole riize frat house alive with drunk laughter and chants. someoneâs passed you a red solo cup thatâs been refilled too many times already and your head is pleasantly fuzzy, heart beating too fast in your chest. you hadnât planned to be here. you only came because yangyang dragged you, promising âjust one beer, chill night, weâll leave early.â but somehow just one beer became just one shot and then just one more until you were giggling against the upstairs hallway wall, watching couples stumble into a closet as the next victims of seven minutes in heaven.
youâd been content to watch â until shotaro, grinning at you like the devil he is, suddenly points right at you, âyo, i nominate them,â he says, voice carrying over the cheers, âour favorite besties! yangyang and y/n!â he smirks, saying your name with way too much glee. the crowd roars. your stomach drops. and if looks could kill, shotaro would be five feet under while you fake cry with a bouquet in your hand.
yangyang laughs it off at first, waving them away, ânah, nah, pick someone elseââ
but his refusal only made the chants louder, âYANGYANG! Y/N! YANYANG! Y/N!â
then shotaro delivers the killing blow, âif they donât at least make out, they gotta streak from this room all the way to pool. naked. right now.â yeah, you were about ready to book his funeral date.
the crowd erupts even louder. someone pounds on the closet door for emphasis. you glance at yangyang, mortified. his cheeks are already pink from the alcohol but the flush deepens as his eyes meet yours. yanyang lets out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of hic neck, âguess weâre screwed, huh?â
before you can argue, hands are on your backs, shoving you both into the closet. the door slams and the lock clicks. the crowd outside starts a countdown, muffled through the wood but relentless, âSEVEN! MINUTES! IN! HEAVEN!â
the closet is pitch dark, the smell of coats and cologne hanging in the air. yangyang stumbles into you, shoulder knocking yours, both of you giggling awkwardly. the sound dies fast. something about being trapped in this tiny closet, being this close, hits you hard. he exhales, voice low, trying to keep it light, âokay, soâŠeither we streak naked in front of like, half the fratâŠâ his pause is long, deliberate, âorâŠwe make out.â
your heart lurches, all those times youâve been at your best behavior, trying not to ruin your friendship, trying to keep your feelings at bay, just for it to crumble down over a silly little party game. you scoff, trying to keep his light tone, âiâm never letting you drag me into a party again.â
outside, someone yells, âWEâRE LISTENING!," followed by laughter.
yangyang curses under his breath, hiding his own nerves under a giggle. then, after a beat, he adds, softer, almost testing, âhonestly? iâd rather kiss you than have our nudes all over social media.â you couldnât argue with that. plus you had more to lose than he did. the seconds stretch, your pulse thundering in your ears. and then yangyang moves, slowly, his hand brushing your wrist like heâs asking permission.
âyou cool with it?â
âyeah,â you whispered, hoping he doesnât catch the way your voice shook or the way your heart is pounding so loud you could barely hear the roar of cheers outside.
and before you could even register what was happening, he softly tilted you towards him, a finger under your chin â lips on yours in a soft, slow kiss, tasting faintly of beer and hesitation. it lasted five total seconds before you pulled back an inch, breathless. he did too. for a suspended moment, it was just the sound of your heavy breathing. then, as if drawn by the same thought â you both leaned in again. at the same time. firmer this time. mouths slotting together in a rush that felt inevitable. the longer it lasts, the less funny it becomes. his hand slides to your waist, tugging you closer in the tight space. your fingers fisted in the front of his shirt. the kiss grew hungrier, teeth clashing a little, tongues tangling in a way that made your knees week and a whine slip from your lips.
âOH THEYâRE DEFINITELY DOING SOMETHING!,â someone yelled from outside.
yangyang chuckled against your mouth, lips trailing dangerously close to your ear. his breath was hot, his whisper meant only for you, âguess we should give them what they want, huh?â he kissed down your jaw, lingering at your neck until a moan slipped out of you before you could control it. the crowd howled like theyâd just won a prize. minutes blurred, heat and alcohol tangling until you werenât sure where your laughter ended and your moans began. the world outside blurred into static as your world narrows to yangyangâs lips moving hungrily against yours, body flushed, fingers digging into his hair like you've been waiting years for this. which, technically, you have.
by the time someone outside banged on the door and shouted, âTIMEâS UP!â you were both panting, clothes rumpled, lips swollen.
yangyang leaned his head back against the wall, laughing breathlessly, eyes gleaming even in the dark, âthink we bought ourselves out of streaking duty?â
you couldnât even answer, too busy catching your breath. his thumb brushed your lower lip, almost absent-mindedly, wiping away your smudged lipstick, like now that heâs touched you like this he could no longer stop.
the lock clicked, the door swung open, and the roar of the party came crashing in. everyoneâs faces lit up at the sight of you two flushed and disheveled, shotaro looking prouder than usual. someone even shouted, âDAMN, THEY WENT IN ON EACH OTHER!â
your face burned. yangyang just slung an arm around your shoulders, calm and collected, like nothing happened, grinning lazily, ârelax,â he murmured in your ear, sensing your embarrassment as if you werenât both flushed and rumpled, âwe just won the game.â you rolled your eyes, forcing a laugh but your pulse was still racing. the crowd quickly lost interest, moving on to drag their next victims towards the closet while you and yangyang slipped back into the swarm of bodies downstairs. the bass was heavier here, lights flashing orange and white across sweaty faces. yangyang steered you toward the kitchen, âshots?â
you looked at the alcohol like it hasnât already gotten you in enough trouble for the night, âdefinitely.â the two of you lined up side by side at the counter, tossing them back one after the other. the tequila burned but it was better than the heat still lingering on your lips. better than the way your chest tightened every time you remembered howâd he pressed you against the closet wall.
you both laughed too loudly, moved too quickly, like if you just kept pouring and swallowing, you could wash away the last seven minutes. back in the living room, ningning pulled you onto the dance floor. yangyang followed instantly, a goofy grin plastered on his face, body moving to the beat with exaggerated moves. you bumped shoulders, trying so hard to act like it was just another party. just another night with your best friend. but every time his hand brushed your waist in the chaos, the memory of his mouth on yours came roaring back. so you drowned it in another shot. and another. and another.
yangyang mirrored you drink for drink, laughing, joking, throwing his head back like nothing in the world had changed. you didnât notice the way his smile would falter in the moments between â how his gaze would drop to your lips before he tore it away, burying it in the crowd, the music, the liquor.
neither of you could stop drinking, like the burn in your throats was easier to handle than the fire that had just set between you.
âąáŽ„âą
the party was still raging when you and yangyang finally slipped out, laughter ringing behind you, the smell of alcohol clinging to your clothes. the cool night air hit your cheeks, the two of you stumbling down the sidewalk, drunk giggles bubbling between hiccups of silence.
âmy feef hu-urrgh,â you muttered, tripping over a curb.
yangyang caught your elbow, though his own balance was barely steady, âwhat?â he laughed, blinking hard like it would steady the street spinning under his feet.
âmy. feet. hurt.â you repeated slower, enunciating each word like it took every ounce of concentration.
that only made him double over with laughter, his arm looping around your shoulders just to keep the both of you upright. you clung to him, laughing so hard your ribs ached. every step was a stumble, every laugh another collapsed into each otherâs sides, until the two of you were gasping for air like idiots. by the time you made it up the stairs to your apartment, your faces ache from laughing. at what? neither of you even knew anymore. yangyang nearly fell against the keypad, both of you struggling to remember the code while giggling like kids sneaking out past curfew. somehow, you got it in, and the door slammed behind you with a heavy thud. shoes kicked off somewhere near the entryway while you stumbled in tandem through the dark before collapsing in a tangled heap onto your bed, too drunk to care about the lights or the mess. the mattress groaned under the weight, the room spinning in dizzy circles, âa-are we spinning?â you giggled into your pillow.
âyeahhh,â yangyang slurred, rolling onto his back beside you, the mattress dipped, his arm brushing yours, his knee bumping your thigh. neither of you moved away. you turned your head, ready to tease him â only he was right there. closer than you expected. close enough to see the glassy gleam in his eyes, close enough to feel the heat of tequila on his breath. and just like that, the air shifted. the laughter died, choked out by the thud of your heart pounding too fast in your chest. his eyes flicked to your lips, then back to your gaze, lazy but sharp, like he was fighting to decide if heâd imagined what happened earlier.
for one suspended second, you swore the room stopped spinning.
then his lips were on yours again â this time sloppy, desperate, all the tension from the night finally slipping over. the second his hand slid to the back of your head like heâd been starving for this, your body gave in. you gasped into his mouth, the sound swallowed whole as the kiss turned hotter, hungrier, tongues tangling, teeth clashing, both of you desperate enough that precision didnât matter. his body heat drowned out everything, pulling you in until you were chest to chest. his hands slid under your shirt, fumbling, tugging you on top of him with a growl muffled against your mouth. you straddled him without hesitation, knees sinking into the mattress, fingers fisting the fabric of his hoodie.
somewhere in the back of your mind, you knew you were crossing a line. but with yangyangâs lips moving against yours, breath ragged, hips pressing up into yours â there was no stopping it now.
âfuck,â he groaned, teeth grazing your jaw as his head tipped back, âwe shouldnâtââ
âthen stop,â you whispered back, dragging your mouth down his throat.
he didnât. he couldnât. his hands drag over your waist, clumsy but hungry, pulling your shirt off and tossing it to the side. every brush of his fingers made the blood roar in your ears, making the world tilt. clothes fell away in pieces â his hoodie yanked off, your jeans kicked off the bed. every barrier stripped felt less like a choice and more like inevitability. like this had always been where you were headed. by the time you were both bare, your skin slick against his in the dark â the air was thick with heat and alcohol. and when his hips bucked, the hard press of him against you made your stomach clench. your lips trailed lower, tasting the salt of his skin, kissing down the hard lines of his chest, your hands roaming, desperate to touch everything youâd never let yourself have before tonight. his breath hitched, hips jerking when your lips reached his stomach. and when you finally wrapped your hand around him, hard and heavy against your palm, yangyangâs head tipped back against the pillow, eyes squeezing shut, a hoarse curse tumbling out of his lips, âshitââ he groaned, hips bucking up helplessly. his knuckles went white, twisting in the sheets, his head thrown back, hair sticking damp to his forehead. the first slick drag of your tongue had him gasping, the second had him choking on a broken moan that sounded nothing like the playful, smug best friend you knew.
âyouâreâshitâyouâre bigger than you look,â you giggled before your lips sucked around his tip, collecting his leaking pre-cum.
he let out a strangled sound, a mix between laughter and a groan, his hips jerking helplessly, âdonâtâf-fuckâdonât say that,â his voice cracked, raw and desperate, âgod, teddyâshit, donât stop, please donât stopââ
the nickname nearly undid you. you sank your lips further down his length, the weight of him hot and heavy on your tongue, until your throat burned and your eyes watered, but you didnât care. the more you took, the more you wanted. you were dizzy on the taste of him, the way he was begging, the way his thighs trembled around you, the way his hand clutched your hair like it was the only thing tethering him to reality. yangyangâs voice cracked again, hoarse and pleading, âpleaseâplease, moreâ,â his hips jerked like he was trying to fuck your throat, âyouâre soâshitâyouâre so good at this.âyou choked around him and he nearly fell apart, the sound vibrating throughout his body, his voice breaking into a strangled cry as his cock twitched on your tongue, hips jerking harder.
âf-fuck, iâm gonnaâ,â his voice pitched high, desperate, like he didnât even want it to end. his free hand fisted in the sheets, pulling them tight. his eyes rolled back, sweat beading at his temple, voice cracking on your name as he broke off in a long, drawn-out whimper, spilling hot into your mouth. you hollowed your cheeks and swallowed him down, drunk off of the way he fell apart for you, whiny and ruined and begging like heâd never known how to beg before.
you were still catching your breath, lips wet and swollen, when yangyang suddenly surged up, his hand gripping your waist. in a messy blur, he flipped you onto your back. your mind way too drunk to catch up, âyangâ,â you gasped as his lips closed around your nipple, teeth grazing, tongue dragging clumsy but desperate.
âshut up,â he mumbled against your skin, breath hot, laugh muffled, ây-you think iâm letting you be the only one? fuck no.â
he was sill so drunk. both of you were. but the hunger in the way he mouthed at you didnât feel dulled â it felt sharpened, frantic. his mouth blazed down your body, leaving sloppy kisses and bite marks until he shoved his shoulders between your knees. the first drag of his tongue had you gasping, head feeling back against the pillow. the second had you crying out, your fingers tangling in his hair.
âyangâahhâ,â the ceiling tilting above you. there was nothing polished about the way he ate you â just raw hunger. he groaned at the taste, pressing deeper, tongue messy, unrestrained, loud slurps, wet sounds, shameless moans that made your whole body shudder, his face buried deep like he couldnât get close enough.
âholy shittâyou tasteâ,â his words slurred into nonsense, ââso fucking goodâbeen wantingâgod, iâm soâ,â he cut himself off with a groan, nose pressing against you as his tongue worked deeper, sloppy and desperate. your thighs trembled, your hips rolling helplessly into his mouth. his grip only tightened, pinning you down, making you take everything he gave you. his hair was damp with sweat under your finger, his own moans muffled against you as he devoured you like he was starving.
âyangâfuckâfuckâ,â your back arched, toes curling, the heat in your stomach bulding as his tongue dragged over that perfect spot again and again. you pulled at his hair, desperate for something to anchor yourself to and that only made him shove deeper, his nose bumping your clit as he tongue-fucked you. then two fingers pressed inside you without hesitation, the stretch clumsy but so, so deep, curling until your cry broke sharp and high. every noise he pulled out of you made him groan louder, rutting into the mattress below him. the bed creaked with his pace, each thrust of his fingers matched by his frantic grinding. his cock rock-hard again and leaking all over the sheets but he was too wrecked to care about the mess he was making. not when you were writhing underneath him.
âgod, teddyâ,â he whined shamelessly, his rhythm stuttering as your walls fluttered around his fingers, he curled them harder, faster, desperate to hear more of your noises, âyouâre so hot like this. fuckâpleaseââ
you sobbed out a whine, back arching, nails scraping his scalp and the noise he made was downright wrecked. his hips snapped against the bed, chasing friction, chasing relief. every time you moaned, he whimpered, rutting harder against your bed, smearing precum over your sheets without shame.
âpleaseâpleaseâ,â the word tumbled from his lips, incoherent, half begging you to come, half begging himself not to finish again. his tongue lapped around your clit, âyou sound so goodâtaste so goodâgod, i couldâshitâi could do this for hours.
âyangyangââ your voice broke, shivering as his fingers curled impossibly deeper, hitting that spot that made stars burst behind your eyelids.
âsay it again,â he gasped against you, tongue moving messier, wetter, more frantic, âpleaseâplease say my nameââ you screamed it this time, back arching off the mattress â and he broke with it. he moaned loud into you, his release spilling against the sheets as he came undone a second time, grinding into the bed like he couldnât stop. and he didnât stop. even as he shuddered, even as his cock twitched against the bed, he kept his fingers pumping, his tongue pressing until your climax hit hard â violent, wracking, tearing a broken cry from your throat as yangyangâs tongue and fingers pushed you over the edge. your whole body arched off the mattress, thighs clamping around his head as you came.
âyangâfuckâiâmââ your voice broke, the rest swallowed in a silent moan as you pulsed around his fingers. heat flooded every nerve, your vision going white at the edges. he drew every last shudder from you, swallowing down your release. when you finally sagged back into bed, chest heaving, your vision swam in dizzy stars. yangyang collapsed against your thigh, face sticky, lips slick with you, hair damp with sweat. his cock softening against the ruined sheets but his body still trembled faintly, spent from his own release.
netiher of you spoke. neither of you could. the alcohol, the mess, the sheer exhaustion weighed down your limbs. you reached blindly for him and he came up without hesitation, dragging himself up onto the bed beside you. the sheets were ruined, sticky with sweat and sex, but neither of you could care. you were too drunk, too spent, too wrapped up in the haze of each otherâs bodies. you curled into each other automatically, his arm slung heavy around your waist, your forehead pressed against his chest. and just like that, tangled in the wreckage of your choices, you both slipped under.
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 26 - SATURDAY - A MISTAKE.
sunlight cut across your room far too bright for your pounding head. the dryness in your mouth hit first, then the throb behind your eyes and then the heat pressed against you.
you werenât alone.
the realization landed the same second yangyang stirred. his arm was around your waist. your bare chest flush to his. the sheets clung to your legs, tangled between your bodies. you blinked hard, vision swimming, just as his lashes fluttered open. the moment your eyes locked, sober clarity snapped like a rubber band pulled too tight.
âohâfuck,â yangyang rasped, voice hoarse, eyes wide as he jerked back, only to freeze when he realized he was still naked under your sheets. your stomach plummeted. the pounding in your head drowned out by a harder, colder pulse of panic. you scrambled upright, dragging the blanket against your chest like it could erase the way his skin had been on yours just seconds ago. the silence was deafening. both of you breathing too fast, too shallow. both of you remembering at the same time â the shots, the laughter, the way youâd stumbled into bed together, into each other. the way youâd stripped and kissed each other down.
neither of you could take it back.
yangyang shoved a hand through his hair, cursing under his breath, his voice cracked around the word, âshit. shit. weââ
you cut in, voice sharper than you meant, âyeah, i know what we did.â
the air between you was heavy, thick, everything unsaid pressing down until it felt suffocating. he looked away first, jaw tight, muttering, âwe were drunk. itâŠit didnât mean anything.â
your chest constricted like heâd punched straight through it. a wake up call. a reminder of the thing you already knew deep down â the boy youâre in love with will never love you back. not in the way you want him to. that last night, to him, was nothing but a blurred mistake in a series of poor decisions. your pulse roared in your ears, but you forced your face blank, forced the words out even though they scraped your throat raw, âright,â you said quickly, too quickly, âit doesnât mean anything. we were drunk.â you repeat his words, your laugh coming out hollow, brittle, a poor imitation of casual. you clutched the blanket tighter around yourself as if it could hold together the pieces of you splintering from the inside out.
yangyang let out a shaky exhale, his shoulders dropping, some flicker of relief passing across his features, âyeah. exactly. justâŠa mistake. weâll forget it.â
a mistake. the word lodged in your chest like glass, sharp and cruel. you nodded anyway because what else could you do? admit youâre in love with him? admit that last night hadnât felt like a mistake at all? that even drunk, it was the only thing that ever felt real? no. you couldnât ruin thirteen years of friendship for something he wanted to forget. so you swallowed it down.
the burn of tequila was nothing compared to the ache of swallowing this truth.
âyeah,â you whispered, eyes fixed anywhere but him, âforget it.â
the silence stretched, unbearable, until it felt like the walls were closing in. he moved first, movements hurried, clumsy, as he shoved one leg into his jeans, then the other. his hands shook as he yanked the zipper, as he searched your floor for his hoodie. you sat frozen on the bed, nails digging crescents into your palm beneath the blanket. your body screamed to move, to say something, anything, but you stayed still like a statue.
he didn't look at you when he finally muttered, voice low, âiâll see you later.â the door clicked shut behind him. and only then, when you were finally alone, did the first crack in your facade give way. your shoulders sagged. the tears youâd been biting back stung hot at the corners of your eyes, spilling silently down your cheeks as your curled into yourself on the bed that still smelled like the remnants of last night. the sheets clung damp to your skin. his warmth lingered like a ghost in the mattress. you pressed your face into the pillow, muffling the sob that tore its way out. the taste of last night still lingering on your tongue.
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 28 - MONDAY - THE OBVIOUS.
yangyang couldnât stop replaying it. the taste of your lips, the heat of your body, the way your laughter had broken into a moan in the dark. images of you flashing and consuming every waking thought he had. and then â yesterday. the look in your eyes. the word mistake. he told himself it was fine. you were fine. best friends go through shit and move on. but every time he tried to focus, the memory pressed harder, suffocating, until he felt like he was choking on the silence he brought upon himself. and the worst part? he couldnât even talk to you about it. the one person he usually ran to when shit like this happens.
so he ended up standing outside the dream fraternity house, hands stuffed in his hoodie pocket, debating whether this was the dumbest idea of his life. the door creaked open before he could knock. jeno gave him a curious once-over, one eyebrow arched, before jerking his head inside, ârenjunâs upstairs.â yangyang muttered a thanks, his throat dry â he found renjun hunched over his desk, sketchbook open, pencil tapping. the same renjun heâd been avoiding for weeks. the same renjun who had once been closer than a brother before everything fell apart. now here he was. because despite it all, renjun was the next person who would understand him.
renjunâs gaze lifted, sharp, unreadable at first, then softening into a flicker of shock. âheyâŠeverything okay?â
yangyang leaned against the doorframe, suddenly aware of how stupid this is. he exhaled, running a hand through his hair, âi, uhâŠi need,â he clears his throat, exhaling, running a hand through his hair, âi need to talk to someone.â
renjun set his pencil down, leaning back in his chair, inviting him to come in, âyou know iâm always all ears.â something in his tone â calm, patient, not holding the past against him, was enough to crack yangyangâs defenses, a nervous grin tugged on his lips as he stepped inside slowly before taking a seat at the edge of his friendâs bed.
âiâ,â he hesitated, then the words tumbled out, low and rough, âi hooked up with y/n.â
the silence hit first. then renjunâs brows rose, not in shock exactly, more like confirmation, âhooked up as inâ?â
yangyang groaned, dragging his hands down his face, âas in we were drunk and got to second base.â
renjun whistled under his breath, but his expression stayed calm, almost knowing, âwell,â he said, leaning back further in his chair, âtook you long enough.â
yangyangâs had snapped up, âthe fuckâs that supposed to mean?â
renjun tilted his head, studying him with that infuriating but familiar precision, no judgment in it, just quiet truth, âi always knew there was something else there.â
yangyang blinked. the words didnât compute, âwhat? no way. weâve always just been best friends.â
âsure,â renjun said evenly, âbest friends who look at each other like the rest of the world disappears. best friends who packed their bags and flew all the way to germany for an internship because it was the only one the both of you got intoââ
âwhat are you trying to say?â yangyang cut in, pulse stuttering, a little annoyed now, defensive because he didnât know what else to be.
renjunâs gaze softened. his voice was steady, kind in a way yangyang wasnât prepared for, âyou can lie to yourself all you want, yang, but it doesnât change whatâs obvious to literally everyone else,â renjun paused, eyes searching his, âmaybe to you, youâve just been best friends. but y/n? she looks at you the same way i look at love.â
yangyang let out a sharp, incredulous laugh, shaking his head hard enough to make his messy hair fall into his eyes. âno jun, come on. if that was true, if there was anything like that, donât you think it wouldâve happened by now? weâve had years of being alone together. sleepovers, drunk nights, heartbreaks, traveling halfway across the world together, even staying at the same shitty hostel in germany. and nothing. not once. until last night, when we were drunk out of our minds. that doesnât scream fate, that screamsâŠaccident. thatâs it.â
renjun just leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms like he had all the time in the world. his silence pressed harder than words, like he was waiting for yangyang to trip over his own defenses.
yangyangâs pulse spiked under it, so he filled it, his words tripping over each other, âand donât start with the whole âbut look at how she looks at youâ thing. she has a fuck buddy, jun. a fuck buddy. not me. if she really wanted me, why would she need someone else for that?â
âmaybe because itâs easy,â renjun replied like it was the most obvious thing in the world, âbecause itâs just sex. no strings. no danger of her heart being broken. sometimes a placeholder is easier than the one thing that actually scares the shit out of you.â
yangyang dragged his hands down his face, âthatâsâŠthatâs a stretch. you donât just wake up and suddenly realize youâre in love with your best friend. thatâs not how it works.â
renjun tilted his head, gaze steady, âor maybe thatâs exactly how it works. maybe she woke up one night and realized that love is the comfort and safety you bring her. and now sheâs too scared to ruin the one thing thatâs always been safe. people donât throw grenades into the only home they have unless theyâre desperate. and youâd rather pretend itâs not there than risk losing her.â
that hit closer than yangyang thought it would. his throat went dry, âgod, listen to how stupid this sounds. youâre making it into something itâs not. i just got out of a relationshipâŠwith your girlfriend, if youâve forgotten. iâm barely keeping my head above water as it is. and now youâre trying to tell me whatâ,â his head snapped up, frustration and panic bleeding together, âthat my best friendâs been secretly in love with me this whole time? that iâm too blind to see it?â
renjun shrugged, calm, unflinching, ânot blind, yang. maybe you were just too scared to acknowledge the obvious.â
yangyangâs laugh turned sharp, almost bitter, âyou hear yourself right now? you sound insane, jun,â yangyangâs chest rose and fell too fast, words spilling out like he couldnât stop them if he tried, âyou think you know everything huh? newsflashâ you donât. you werenât there.â
renjun leaned forward, elbows on his knees, tone maddeningly calm, âthen tell me what it was, yang. if it wasnât what iâm saying, then what was it?â
yangyang shot to his feet like the mattress burned him, âit was a mistake! thatâs all! two drunk idiots doing something they shouldnât have. nothing more. nothingââ he broke off, fists clenching at his sides.
renjun stood slowly, not in challenge but in quiet steadiness, like he knew raising his voice would only make yangyang spiral more, âyou keep saying nothing but your whole bodyâs screaming the opposite.â
yangyang let out a bitter laugh, shoving past him toward the door, needing air, needing escape, he had no idea why he thought coming here would help him, âyou donât know shit, jun. you donât know me anymore.â his hand tightened around the doorknob, ready to twist, to bolt, to drown himself in anything but this conversation. but then renjunâs voice came, lower this time, not calm in that detached way, but warm, gentle, almost like before everything between them went to shit.
âyang,â he said quietly, âiâm not saying this to fuck with you. iâm saying it because i care. and you can keep yelling, keep pretending it was just some drunk mistake but i know you. and i know the way youâre looking at me right now â like youâre terrified i might be right.â
yangyang froze. his throat worked, but no sound came out.
renjunâs steps were slow, careful, until he was standing just a few feet behind him, âiâm not trying to corner you, yang. i justâŠdonât want you to ruin something good because youâre too scared to call it what it is. you donât have to figure it out tonight. but the first step is being honest with yourself. donât run from it.â the words sank deep. yangyang swallowed hard, staring at the wood grain of the door like it could give him an answer. his grip on the knob loosened, fingers slipping away until his hand fell uselessly to his side. shoulders heavy, he let out a ragged breath, eyes burning with a frustration that wasnât just aimed at renjun anymore.
âi donâtâŠâ his voice cracked, softer now, breaking under its own weight, âi donât know what the fuck iâm doing.â
renjunâs expression softened even further, almost brotherly. âthatâs okay. you donât have to know yet. just⊠stop pretending you feel nothing. thatâs the only mistake here.â
yangyang shut his eyes, leaning his forehead briefly against the door, caught between every instinct to run and the quiet relief of not holding it all in alone anymore. slowly, almost reluctantly, he turned and came back. his legs carried him on instinct more than choice and he dropped back onto the bed. when he finally spoke, his voice was quieter, raw around the edges, âis this how scared you felt with love too?â
renjun exhaled, his chest deflating, âyeah, i was terrified. scared and guilty. every second i was with her, i knew i was hurting you. knew i was lying to myself, to you, to her. and the worst part? i couldnât stop. i thought if i buried it deep enough, it would go away.â
yangyang swallowed, the knot in his throat tightening. he hadnât expected renjun to answer like that â to sound so unguarded, so wrecked. he always thought he had the worst pain of the two.
âand it obviously didnât,â he says, softer now.
renjun shook his head slowly, âno. it only got worse. until i couldnât run from it anymore.â
for the first time that night, yangyang didnât have a sharp comeback waiting. he just sat there, silent, the weight of renjunâs words pressing down on the panic heâd been trying to outrun. slowly, he let his hands drop, fingers flexing uselessly against his knees. his throat bobbed once, twice, before he finally muttered, almost to himself, â...thanks.â
renjun blinked, surprised. âfor what?â
yangyangâs lips twisted, like the word itself was foreign to him. âfor not bullshitting me. for saying it straight. i needed that.â
âąáŽ„âą
meanwhile in your apartment, you called the one person you were angry at. he showed up fast, still in sweats, hair messy like heâd just rolled off his couch. when you opened the door, he gave you a half smile, âtexting me, already?â
you cut him off, stepping aside, âthis isnât that. sit down.â
shotaroâs brows furrowed, but he obeyed, dropping onto your couch. you stayed standing, arms crossed tight.
âwhy the hell did you do it?â you snapped.
âdo what?â
âseven minutes in heaven! youâre the one who shoved that game on everyone, right? youâre the reason iââ your throat closed for a second, you forced the words out anyway, âthe reason i messed up with yangyang!â
shotaro blinked, taken aback. âwait. messed up howââ
âit doesnât matter!â you said quickly, cutting him off before the shame could choke you out, âwhat matters is you set it up like it was some kind of joke, and now everythingâs fucked!â your voice cracked, fury fraying into panic, âdo you get it? you ruined everything! you dick!â
shotaro leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, his eyes flicking up to you with something sharper than usual, âokay, first of all, donât put this all on me,â he said, voice firmer than youâd expected, âyou think i could control how you two were gonna act?â
your jaw tightened. âyou put us in that position.â
âand youâre acting like you didnât want it,â shotaro shot back, âcâmon, y/n. you and yangyang have been dancing around each other for years. everyone sees it. i thought maybeââ he stopped himself, shaking his head with a humorless laugh. âi thought maybe you two needed the push.â
your stomach dropped. âa push? you think what happened was some kind ofâof fate!? that you did us a favor!?â
âi think,â shotaro said carefully, âthat itâs about time you admit youâre in love with him. how long are you gonna keep this charade up for? are you going to be one of those sad best friends standing at his wedding acting like youâre fine? or what, when he has a wife and still runs to you when they have problems? are you gonna sit there and take it like you do now? how far in the future will you keep playing this up?â
shotaroâs words hung in the air. your hands flew up to cover your face, but it was useless â the sob slipped out anyway, sharp and raw. shotaro blinked when you suddenly broke, tears spilling hot and unrestrained down your cheeks. you shoved the heel of your palm against your eyes, but it only made it worse.
ây/nâŠâ he murmured, caught between surprise and worry.
you shook your head hard, voice cracking. âheâhe called it a mistake.â
shotaro straightened, frowning. âwhat was?â
your throat bobbed as you nodded, the words tumbling out messy, jagged, âweâwe hooked up. and for one second i thoughtâŠi thought maybe i wasnât insane for feeling the way i do. but then heââ your chest heaved, and you squeezed your eyes shut, ââhe said it was a mistake, like it didnât mean anything. like i donât mean anything.â
shotaroâs mouth opened, then closed again, as if he wasnât sure what to say. he only knew the edges of the truth â that youâd been crushing on yangyang for ages. that yangyang looked at you like you held the world in his hands but had no clue. that from the outside perspective, the two of you just made sense.
ây/n,â he said softly, âi donât think thatâs what he meant.â
a bitter laugh broke from you, watery and sharp, âyou werenât there.â
âno,â he agreed, voice gentle, âbut iâve seen the way he looks at you sometimes when he thinks no one notices. he wouldnât mean it in that way.â
you shook your head, shoulders trembling, âyou donât get it. iâm just his best friend! he made it very clear by walking out and leaving me here. and iâi ruined everything!â
shotaro hesitated, then shifted closer, pulling you into him. it wasnât romantic, not even close â it was messy, awkward, your tears dampening his shirt, his hand rubbing slow circles between your shoulder blades.
âyou didnât ruin anything,â he murmured, âheâs scared. or confused. or both. but you? youâre not wrong for feeling what you feel.â
your fingers clutched the fabric of his shirt like a lifeline, âit hurts so much.â
âi know,â he whispered, pressing his chin lightly against the top of your head, âcry it out. iâve got you.â and so you did, not because shotaro could fix it, not because he was the one you wanted, but because right then, he was the only one who wouldnât call you a mistake. your sobs had quieted into hiccups, your face pressed into shotaroâs chest, when he finally leaned back enough to look at you. his thumb brushed under your eye, catching the stray tear you missed.
âhey,â he said softly, his smile crooked, âyou want me to fuck the pain away?â
you let out a choked laugh despite yourself, smacking his chest weakly. âshotaroââ
âwhat?â he grinned, holding his hands up in mock innocence. âitâs my only real skill set here. shoulder to cry on, dick to distract you. comes in a package deal.â
you groaned, dragging your sleeve across your eyes, âgod, youâre annoying.â
âbut,â he leaned in, lowering his voice, âyouâre laughing.â you bit down on your lip, shaking your head â but yeah, a small laugh did slip out. a real one, even if it was laced with ache.
shotaro leaned back against the couch, satisfied, and slung an arm lazily around your shoulders, âsee? donât underestimate the healing power of bad humor and good dick. itâs science.â you exhaled, the laugh dying down into something quieter, smaller. for a moment you just stared at your knees, twisting the hem of your sleeve between your fingers. the ache swelled again in your chest â not as sharp, but heavy.
âshotaro?â you asked softly.
âyeah?â
your voice cracked a little. âcan you justâŠhold me? for a while?â
his teasing expression melted instantly. no hesitation, no jokes this time. âyeah. of course.â he shifted, tugging you gently into his chest again, this time lying back into the couch cushions so you could curl into him properly. his arm tightened around your waist, the other hand threading through your hair in slow, absent strokes. neither of you spoke after that. the last thing you felt was the steady rise and fall of his chest under your cheek before sleep pulled you under.
âąáŽ„âą
yangyang stood outside your apartment door, knuckles pressed to the wood, rehearsing the words in his head. this is what you did. this is what youâd always done â you talked. about everything. about bad grades and breakups, about internships and homesickness. if the world felt like it was falling apart, somehow you always put it back together again, piece by piece.
so why should this be different?
he swallowed hard, finally twisting the knob and stepping inside. the lights were dim, your living room quiet. he opened his mouth, ready to call your name. and then he froze â you were curled up on the couch. not alone. shotaroâs arm was draped over you, your face tucked into his chest, his hand still resting protectively on your waist.
yangyangâs chest tightened, heat and cold colliding at once. how could you? how could you kiss him one night, strip away years of boundaries, make his heart pound so hard he thought itâd crack open⊠make him question everything he thought he knewâŠ.and then just⊠have another man in your arms?
jealousy flared sharp, ugly in his chest, tangling with something deeper he refused to name. possessiveness. hurt. and stupid, stupid him â for even letting renjunâs words take root earlier. because this? this was proof he was an idiot. an idiot who overthinks everything when it was all really just a mistake on your end too.
he lingered a second too long, his jaw tight, breath heavy in the silence of your apartment. then, he turned on his heel and let himself out. the door clicked softly behind him. and it was like heâd never been there at all. he didnât get far after leaving your apartment. just down the block, just far enough that your building wasnât in sight anymore, before the weight of what heâd seen stopped him cold. his heart was still pounding, not with the same anger as before, no, this was worse â jagged and hollow at once, like his chest was caving in from the inside.
you were his best friend. his safe place. the one person he thought he didnât have to question. and yet seeing you in someone elseâs arms had gutted him in a way he couldnât explain. youâd had boyfriends before and it never affected him like this. so it shouldnât matter. it doesnât matter. you werenât his. he was the one who called what happened between you a mistake. he was the one who said it didnât mean anything. but why did it feel like the ground had been ripped out from under him?
he shoved his hands into his pockets, pacing under the yellow streetlight, muttering under his breath, âfuck, why does thisâ why do i care?â the answer pressed against his ribs, sharp and undeniable. he couldnât stand the thought of anyone else touching you, holding you, making you laugh when you cried.renjunâs voice echoed in his head, steady and infuriatingly right: youâd rather pretend itâs not there than risk losing her. yangyang laughed once, harsh and humorless, dragging his hands over his face.
âgoddamn it.â
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 29 - TUESDAY - PRETENDING.
you slid into your usual seat, dropping your bag with a practiced little thud. same class, same canvas, same setup as every other tuesday morning. nothing had changed â at least, thatâs what you told yourself as you pasted on that easy smile, greeting the professor, nodding at classmates, settling in like you werenât suffocating behind the mask.
yangyang was already there, hunched forward, brush spinning idly between his fingers. the second you sat down beside him, the air shifted. a crackle. a hum in your chest. too much silence where there shouldâve been jokes, shoulder nudges, shared smiles. itâs the first time youâre seeing him since that mistake.
âmorning,â you manage to force out, light and casual.
he glanced up, eyes shadowed, lips pressing into something that wasnât quite a smile, âmorning,â his voice was low, hoarse, like he hadnât used it all day.
you busied yourself with your palette, clinking glass jars, swirling water, anything to fill the silence. normally this was when yangyang would lean into your space, make some dumb comment about your color choices or brush his knee against yours without noticing. but today? he sat stiff, shoulders square, every moment careful like even breathing too close to you would give him away.
from across the table, renjunâs sharp gaze flicked between the two of you. he clocked the half-inch of space between your chairs that felt like a canyon. the way your laugh at someone elseâs joke rang a little too bright, a little too forced. the way yangyang kept staring at his canvas but hadnât laid down a single stroke of paint. at one point, yangyang risked a glance at you, just a quick flicker, like he couldnât help himself, and renjun caught it. their eyes locked across the table. renjun tilted his head, gaze steady, saying without wordsâ you see it now, donât you?
yangyangâs jaw tensed. he shook his head almost imperceptibly, mouthing a tight âshut up.â
you heard him. of course you did. even when you were pretending not to pay attention to him, you were. you turned your head, âwhat?â
renjun arched a brow, lips curving. yangyang tore his eyes away from him, looking straight at you for the first time since that night, ân-nothing, i didnât say anything.â you nod, not having the energy to push further, before busying yourself with your sketchpad. beside him, you kept painting, keeping your mask intact. pretending this was just another tuesday. pretending you didnât feel your pulse spike every time his knee shifted under the desk. pretending his silence didnât ache more than words ever could. and yangyang â stiff in his chair, heart hammering against his ribs, was the only one who can tell you werenât fine.
class went on with the two of you dancing around each other, pretending everything was still the same. pretending you havenât crossed a line. pretending the mistake was clearly just a mistake. until the clatter of chairs and zip of bags signaled the end of class. everyone filtered out, voices rising as plans for lunch and errands filled the air. you slipped into rhythm, packing up calmly, masking every motion as ordinary. yangyang moved slower. he lingered, dragging out the task of rinsing his brushes, watching the water swirl down the jar until it was nearly clear. he told himself he wasnât waiting. that it didnât matter. that he didnât care if you left first. but when you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder and offering him the same easy smile you gave everyone else, his chest tightened.
âsee you later,â you said lightly, voice steady. too steady. he didnât like it. his tongue pressed against the back of his teeth, words gathering, hot and restless â donât leave like that. donât act like nothing happened.
but what right did he have to say that? when he was the one who walked out of your bedroom? when he was the one who left you alone?
your back was already half-turned toward the door when his hand twitched against his side. just one word and youâd stop. he hesitated. and then you were gone. your laughter echoed down the hallway as you joined a group of classmates, the sound bright and hollow in yangyangâs ears. he stood frozen, breath shallow, watching the doorway long after youâd disappeared. his chest ached with something he didnât want to name. but the truth had already lodged itself in his ribs, sharp and undeniable â he didnât want to be the guy who shrugged it off as a mistake anymore.
đ§ž SEPTEMBER 30 - WEDNESDAY - WEâRE OKAY, RIGHT?
at this point it had been three days of quiet war, not exactly the silent treatment but somehow worse it was smiling too bright and saying nothing at all.
you heard the code of your door being entered from where you sat on your couch reading a book and knew that it was only ever going to be yangyang. he stumbled inside like the floor might fall out from under him if he didnât move fast enough. his eyes were wild, glassy with something that looked dangerously close to panic.
âdude, are you okay?,â you asked automatically, because thatâs what you always did, check in, make the space softer. your book stayed open on your knee, pages unread.
âdonâtââ his voice came out raw, cracked, a different timbre than youâd heard from him in a while. he pointed, unsteady, as if directing the whole world at you. âdonât act like this. not with me.â
you blinked, âwhat are you talking about?â you tried to keep it light, because light was your defense and youâd worn it like armor for years.
âthat mask!â he ran a hand through his hair so hard it tugged at his scalp. frustration and something else, fear, maybe, flickered across his face. âthe smile. the pretending everythingâs fine. itâs annoying. i can see it. if youâre mad at me, then yell at me. say it.â
your throat went tight. the words caught somewhere between your lungs and lips. you wanted to ask him what right he had â what right he had to notice, when he never did before? but he was still talking, unraveling, in a way that left him exposed.
âyou think i dont know you?â his chest rose and fell fast, his voice raw, âi know when youâre hurting. i can hear it when you laugh too loud. i can see it in your eyes when you wonât look at me for more than two seconds. donât pull that shit with me, okay? not with me.â he looked wrecked standing there in your living room. like every piece of him was strung too tight.
your mouth opened but only a weak laugh came out, shaky at the edges. you werenât ready for this. âyouâre being dramatic. iâm fine, yangyang, really.âyou crossed your arms because you didnât know what else to do. the shrug felt automatic, the same little lie that had kept you safe for years, âitâs not that deep. like you said, it was just a mistake.â
his eyes didnât move. they searched yours like heâd been practicing for this moment and somehow never learned restraint. and then, giving up whatever defense heâd planned, he exhaled like someone letting go of a boulder.
âi donât want to lose you!â he said, the words tumbling out all at once. ânot over something as stupid as this. not over one drunk night. youâreââ his breath hitched, his voice thinned to a fragile thread, âyouâre my best friend. the only one thatâs everâŠfelt like home. i canât lose that. i canât lose you.â the sentence landed like thunder. you felt it in your ribs, in the place that had been hollow for what felt like forever. it cracked something inside you. something older than the night before, older than the mask. you didnât plan your next move â your arms slid around him before thought could get in the way, fingers folding against the fabric of his hoodie. he went rigid, like youâd startled a wild animal, then softened and wrapped himself around you as fiercely as you held him.
if there was one thing you hated more than being miserable, it was watching your best friend hurt.
you buried your face into his shoulder, breath hitching, âwho said anything about losing me?â you whispered, the lie catching on the edges, âi told youâyouâre stuck with me, dummy.â
yangyang shook his head, as if to dislodge the panic. his grip tightened so hard your hoodie scrunched under his fingers, ââbut we were so awkward yesterday. i hated that.â the simple confession sounded like guilt and regret all mixed together.
you tried to bring the air back to something familiar. âi mean, i did see your dick for the first time, of course itâs awkward,â you teased, voice laced in the old, easy banter youâd always used to glue things back together.
that broke through his storm for just a beat. yangyang choked on a cough, half-scandalized, half trying not to laugh. his ears went a little red. âwow,â he muttered, pulling back just enough to look at you, âout of all the things you could say to lighten the mood, you went with my dick? thatâs your angle?â
you grinned, relieved by the flicker of normalcy, âwell, it was⊠memorable.â
âmemorable?â his brows shot up, eyes narrowing with mock offense. âthatâs it? not impressive? not life-altering? just memorable?â
you let out a snort, pushing his shoulder, âdonât get cocky.â
âtoo late,â he shot back without missing a beat, smirk tugging at his lips. âyou literally just admitted you canât forget it.â
your jaw dropped in mock horror, a laugh bubbling up despite yourself, âthatâs not what i said!â
âclose enough.â he leaned back, smugness flickering in his expression for the first time in days, like heâd been starving for this push-pull rhythm. his smirk softened into something gentler, tentative. âsoâŠweâre okay?âŠright?â
you inhaled, wrapping your arms around him again, âyeah. weâre okay.â the words felt both true and dangerously partial. you nodded harder against him, because movement made the pretense feel more real.
neither of you moved to let go. the hug stretched, elastic and fragile, holding whatever fragile normalcy you could manufacture. you both clung like people whoâd decided, with your last breath, to keep pretending a little longer â because the alternative was saying things that might not be fixable. when you finally pulled back, you practiced a small, careful smile, one with cracks patched over. yangyang mirrored it, softer, equally false. nothing more was said. nothing more was allowed to slip. the moment sealed itself â not healed, not whole, but held. for now, that would have to be enough.
đ§ž OCTOBER 2 - FRIDAY - WHY DONâT YOU EVER SEE ME?
yangyang let himself in like he always did, the soft click of your door sounding too familiar. you two were okay now, the loose, careful kind of okay youâve both been practicing, and heâd told himself he couldnât ask for anything more. that thinking didnât survive the second he stepped into your apartment â you appeared in the hallway, towel wrapped loosely around your body, wet hair dripping down your shoulders. droplets clung at the hollow of your throat and mapped a glittering path across your collarbone before escaping down the slope of your chest. he felt his breath hitch so hard it hurt.
âgod,â you muttered, rolling your eyes as you padded back towards your bedroom, âi really need to change my code.â
he forced a laugh, leaning against the arm of the couch and pretending his throat wasnât suddenly dry. maybe he shouldnât keep coming in like this without knocking. maybe he needed to stop walking into moments that felt like traps. he told himself all of it while watching you move, trying to be reasonable in the face of the unreasonable. he dropped onto the couch and tried to make himself small, bouncing one leg restlessly, telling himself it was nothing. youâd just showered. heâd seen you in less and been fine before. he could be fine now. heâs not a kid. then he heard the closet door murmur, the zip of fabric, and your bedroom door creak â you stepped out and he swore he forgot how to breathe.
you were in the dress youâd found in that online shop youâd texted him about last month â red. the exact shade that made everything else mute by comparison. the fabric hugged the small of your back, smoothed over the slope of your hips, outlined the line of your thighs where it hugged just so. you turned, bare back exposed, the zipper dangling like an invitation, âcan you zip me up?â you asked, voice casual as if you were asking the time.
he moved before he thought. his fingers brushed the metal at the base of your spine, and a small, private electricity sparked between them. for a beat his world narrowed to the warmth of your skin, the soft damp left by your shower, the tiny pulse at the base of your neck. he pulled the zipper up carefully, his hand pausing on the small of your back, thumb resting on the curve of your waist as if he could steady both the zipper and himself at once. it clicked to the top. he stayed there, fingers pressed to the red material, as if reluctant to let go. âthere,â he said too softly.
âthanks,â you whispered, turning slightly to face him, practicing that easy smile heâd seen a thousand times.
âwhere the hell are you going like that?â he asked before he could stop himself. his voice came out sharper than he intended, half-joking, half-accusatory, and he immediately cursed at the tone.
you raised a brow, grabbing your tiny gold hoop earrings from the coffee table, âout.â
âout,â he repeated, like the word tasted wrong in his mouth, âout where?â
you smiled, too casually, too practiced, as you fastened the earrings, âon a date.â
the answer landed like a stone on his chest, heavy and unmovable. his jaw flexed but he leaned back on the couch, feigning disinterest with a lazy shrug, âcool.â
you bent toward the mirror in the middle of your bedroom and bathroom door, sliding lipstick over your mouth. yangyangâs eyes followed the motion like he had no control over them, heat crawling up his neck, âseriously,â he muttered, picking at a loose thread on his hoodie sleeve to hide his nerves, âyouâre just gonna walk out looking like that?â
âlike what?â you asked, tone light, almost mocking.
âlikeâ,â his throat closed on the words â like you belong to somebody else. like youâre about to go love someone that isnât him. like youâre about to ruin me. â âlike youâre trying too hard.â
you shot him a sidelong glance, âthatâs kind of the point, yang. itâs a date, not game night.â
he scoffed, leaning further back into the couch, arms crossed like a shield, âjust saying, you donât need to go all out. if the guyâs worth anything, heâd like you without,â he gestured vaguely at your dress, your hair, your lipstick and hated how bitter it came out, â...all that.â
you rolled your eyes, walking back into your bathroom to dry your hair, âgee, thanks, dad.â
and when you moved, he couldnât help it â his gaze followed. the curve of your waist as you bent, the soft skin of your shoulders where the dress stopped, the soft throat where your pulse beat â felt suddenly like an unfair claim heâd had no right to know was there. you were slipping further away from him with every step. and he hated how much it bothered him.
you were in the bathroom, halfway through smoothing the last of your hair when he stepped up to lean on the doorway, watching you with something that tried to be casual and failed, âso,â he said, voice taut, âwhoâs this guy anyway?â
you didnât look up from the mirror, âshotaro.â
the name cracked him open. yangyang straightened like heâd been struck. âshotaro?â he repeated, disbelief sharp in his tone. âi thought you two were just fucking.â
you finally turned, one brow arched, âwe are. doesnât mean we canât go out for drinks.â
his laugh died in his throat, replaced by something heavier, âright. just drinks.â he muttered, every word wrapped in a film of something that couldâve been hurt if you looked close enough.
you brushed past him, grabbing your heels and bending over to buckle your heel, âwhy do you care so much?â
âi donât.â the answer was too quick, too defensive. his arms crossed tighter over his chest, but his jaw was locked, breath shallow, âitâs justâyou donât go on dates with fuck buddies, that complicates things.â
you gave him a dry smile as you reached for your bag, ânot everyone overcomplicates things the way you do, yang.â you slung your bag over your shoulder, gave your reflection one last glance and headed for the door. yangyang hadnât moved from the wall, though every line of his body was wound tight like a coiled spring. your hand hovered on the doorknob, âyouâre welcome to stay, lock up if you leave.â
he didnât answer. just watched you with something unreadable burning in his eyes. you forced a little smile, as if this was normal, as if you werenât both suffocating under everything unsaid and then you slipped out into the hall. he watched you go. the door clicked shut. the apartment slipped into silence.
yangyang stared at the empty space youâd just left behind, abruptly pacing, running hand through his hair over and over like it could scrape out the image of you in that dress. his chest ached, sharp and unfamiliar. jealousy bloomed â ugly, raw, gnawing with a possessiveness he had no right to feel.
âgod, get a grip, sheâs just your best friend,â he muttered, but his reflection in the darkened t.v. screen looked back at him with wide, haunted eyes. because now he knew. now he knew exactly what renjun meant. and it terrified him. he paced another circle through your apartment before his steps slowed outside your bedroom door. the air felt heavier in here, familiar in a way that made his chest ache. the last time he was in here you were doing things best friends definitely werenât supposed to be doing. looking at your bed made the memory flash so hard he had to look away. his gaze landed instead on the stuffed bear propped up against your pillows.
yangyang let out shaky laugh, dragging a hand over his face as he sat on the edge of your bed, he picked up the bear, holding it loosely in his lap, âhey, mr. bear,â he muttered, voice low, rough, half a joke and half not, âlong time no talk.â the bearâs stitched smile was the stupidest comfort â unchanging, honest in a way people werenât. he turned the plush in his hands, felt the seam under his thumbs. he pressed the fur to his cheek because it smelled faintly of you, laundry detergent and something softer heâd never been able to name, and it made his throat close. ââa date,â he said to the bear, and the words went sour in his mouth. âcan you believe her?âŠshotaro.â the name tasted like something heâd swallowed and couldnât cough up. he pictured you across a table, your mouth moving, your laugh, that ridiculous lipstick. his stomach clenched. his grip tightened on the bearâs paw. ârenjunâs wrong, you know. he has to be. because if heâs right, thenâŠâ his words faltered, throat burning. âthen iâm in trouble.â
silence. the bear didnât argue. yangyang shook his head, forcing a laugh that cracked halfway, âi canât lose her, not over something as easily changeable as feelings.â
still no answer. just the bearâs stitched grin. yangyang slumped back against your pillows, hugging it to his chest like it could keep the truth out, âdonât look at me like that,â he muttered. âi donât⊠i donât love herâŠnot like that.â
the sentence felt thin in his mouth. he ran his thumb along the bearâs paw, counting excuses. maybe it was the way youâd always been close. maybe boundaries blurred in late-night conversations, in shared hostels and stupid internships. people get attached, that didnât mean they were in love. people mixed up comfort for something else all the time. but an inconvenient thought slid in and refused to leave. when had he last wanted someone else to hold you? when had the idea of another person making you laugh not made his stomach drop?
heâd made a habit of noticing you â cataloguing little things like a map. the way you tucked your hair behind your ear when you were thinking, the exact tilt of your smile. the way your breathing is naturally synchronized with his when he has you wrapped in his arms.
knowing, he kept telling himself, didnât mean anything. it was just being close, like knowing the fastest routes across campus, harmless â but even he didnât believe that. because the more he came up with excuses, the more he realizes he doesnât know who heâs trying to convince.
his throat tightened until it hurt, and the laugh that clawed out of him was broken, shaky. âfuck,â he whispered, pressing the bear tighter against his chest, forehead dropping against its soft head, âfuck, i think iâm in trouble.â
the words sat there, heavy and terrifying. his heart thudded so loud it almost drowned them out, but not enough to erase them. he let out a breath that trembled all the way through him, closing his eyes, clutching mr. bear like the plush might hold him together, âyou always were horrible at giving advice,â he told him, half-smiling despite the ache ripping through his chest, âbut you keep secrets. you listen when no one else will.â
âąáŽ„âą
the bar was loud, packed with music and chatter, but you couldnât shake the itch of yangyangâs voice still stuck in your head from earlier. you sat across from shotaro at a little round table tucked into the corner. he looked smugly perfect in his button-up and blazer, his easy smile drawing attention from every direction. but the truth was, this wasnât a date. not really.
âthanks for coming,â he said, leaning closer so you could hear him over the noise, âi justâŠdidnât want to show up solo, like a loser, you know?â
you arched a brow, sipping your drink, âwell, i do owe you one for letting me cry in your arms.â
he grinned, unbothered, âyou look hot by the way.âyou laughed, rolling your eyes. you werenât here to play pretend with shotaro. you werenât even here because you wanted to be. you were here because you couldnât stand the thought of sitting at home, replaying the feel of yangyangâs hands, yangyangâs words, yangyangâs silence.
shotaro leaned back in his chair, studying you for a beat, âyouâre somewhere else,â he said finally, soft but true.
your throat tightened, you forced a smile, swirling the liquid in your glass, âiâm here. with you.â but even as you said it, you both knew it wasnât true.
the drinks kept coming. one minute it was a whiskey sour, the next a round of tequila shots someone ordered for the whole table, and before you knew it, your head was warm and spinning, your laughter bubbling too easily. shotaro leaned in, whispering in your ear, âyouâre a lightweight, admit it.â
you squintied at him through the rim of your glass, nose scrunching, "i'm notâ,â you hiccuped mid-sentence and slapped your hand over your mouth, âokay. maybe a little.â
he cracked up that bright, boyish laugh of his, drawing a few curious stares, âyouâre adorable when youâre tipsy. donât tell anyone i said that.â
âtoo late,â you pointed at him dramatically, though your finger wobbled with your balance, âiâm telling everyone. yangyang willââ you cut yourself off too quickly. the name had slipped out before you could stop it. your stomach dipped. shotaro tilted his head, teasing, but didnât press. instead, he lifted his glass, saving you from your own slip, âto bad ideas,â he said.
you clunked clumsily against his, âto bad ideas.âfrom there, the night blurred into easy laughter and stupid dares. you convinced shotaro to try and balance on the barstool and he nearly toppled straight into the ground. he got revenge by dragging you onto the dance floor, where your limbs were looser than your coordination, the both of you laughing so hard you could barely keep upright. somewhere in the haze, the ache in your chest dulled. shotaro was fun. simple. no feelings involved. the more you drank, the easier it was to forget why you were here in the first place. the easier it was to pretend the image of yangyang in your apartment, jaw clenched and eyes dark, wasnât still burned into the back of your mind. by the time the night wound down, you were clinging into shotaroâs arm, giggling as he half-carried, half-guided you out of the bar.
âyouâre a mess,â he teased, shaking his head, âletâs get you home.â
âąáŽ„âą
shotaro steadied you against the doorframe, your fingers fumbling uselessly against the keypad. every time you punched in the numbers, it beeped angrily, red light flashing. you groaned, pressing your forehead to the cold metal, âwhy wonât it love meee?â you slurred, giggling.
âmaybe because you put 1-0-1-0 three times,â shotaro deadpanned, biting back a grin.
you swayed towards him, whispering conspiratorially, âthatâs yangyangâs birthday,â then you laughed like it was the funniest secret in the world. before shotaro could respond, the door snapped open from the inside. yangyang stood framed in the doorway, hair mussed like heâd run his hands through it a hundred times, hoodie hanging loose on his frame. his eyes flicked from your drunken smile straight to shotaroâs steady hand on your arm.
you lit up instantly, arms flying around his neck, âYANG!â you sang, voice too loud, too bright, too happy. you pressed your cheek against his shoulder, giggling like a child. yangyang froze under your touch, breath hitching as your perfume and the warmth of your damp skin from earlier hit him all at once. his arms stayed stiff at his sides for a beat too long before one slid around your waist to steady you before you collapsed. he lifted his gaze over your head, locking on shotaro. his voice was low, sharp, even though he tried to keep it casual, âi got it from here.â
shotaro looked at the two of you â your arms wrapped around yangayng, his hand gripping your waist, and shrugged, unbothered as ever, âyeah, yeah,â he smirked, stepping back with a wave, âgoodnight.â
yangyang didnât wait for shotaro to disappear fully down the hall before tugging you gently inside. he shut the door behind you with a click that sounded too loud in the quiet apartment. you clung tighter around his neck, giggling as he carried you toward your bedroom. he got you into your room and sat you down on the edge of your bed, crouching in front of you to unbuckle your heels as he slid the straps off and tugged the shoes away.
âyouâre a mess,â he muttered, but his voice was softer than the words.
you leaned forward until your forehead rest against his shoulder, giggling, âbut iâm your mess.â
his chest tightened but he ignored it, tugging gently at your wrist, âcome on, teddy. letâs get you out of this thing.â he reached for the zipper at your back, careful, slow, trying not to notice the way the red fabric peeled away from your skin under his fingers. you tilted your head toward him, âyangyang,â you whispered, playful but dreamy, âyouâre undressing me.â
his hands froze, âdonât say it like that,â he muttered, trying not to combust, âim justâhelping.â you hummed, unconvinced, swaying closer as he eased the dressed down your body. he kept his eyes anywhere but your bare skin, swallowing hard as the fabric slipped lower until it pooled on the floor, leaving you in your underwear. he didnât linger, he grabbed one of your oversized t-shirts from your dresser, which looked a lot like the t-shirt heâs been missing for weeks, and gently pulled it over your head.
âthere. done.â he exhaled like heâd just run a marathon. he guided you to lie back against the pillows, tucking the blanket over your legs. when he sat at the edge, reaching for the makeup wipes on your vanity, you squinted up at him through heavy lashes.
âstay still.â he instructed. you wriggled anyway, just to be difficult, lips curling into a mischievous grin. but the second his hand cupped your jaw, thumb brushing softly as he wiped away your lipstick, you went quiet, melting into the warmth of his touch.
the silence stretched until his voice came, quieter this time, careful, âsoâŠhow was your date?â
you smiled, eyes closing as you leaned into his palm, âit was soooo fun,â you sighed, cheeks flushed, âshotaroâs funny. he made me laugh a lot.â
the words scraped against his chest but he swallowed them down, âyeah?â
âmmhm, butâŠ,â your lashes fluttered as you peeked up at him, tipsy and unfiltered, âi wish you were there.â
his hand stilled mid-wipe. for a second, all he could do was stare at you â at the way your drunken pout tugged at his heart, at the little hiccup that slipped through your words, at the way your hand wrapped softly around his wrist. his throat went dry. he could feel the words crawling up the back of his tongue, the things he shouldnât say, things he wasnât even sure of yet, but all that came out was a rough, âyouâre drunk.â he forced his hand to move again, swiping gently at your eyeliner, pretending he didnât feel your confession sinking into his chest like a hook.
âwhy donât you ever see me?â
the words slipped out slurred and soft, dangerous in their honesty. you blinked up at him from under heavy lashes, a little tipsy smile tugging at your lips like you hadnât even realized what youâd said. yangyangâs head snapped up so fast the motion jolted him. for a beat he simply stared at you, breath gone, âsee you?â his voice came out quieter than he wanted, âwhat the hell does that mean? i see you every day.â
you let out a tiny hiccup that dissolved into sad, hiccupy laugh, ânot like that,â you mumbled, eyes glassy, âyou justââ your brow furrowed, the words slipping, stalling, before alcohol gave you a shove, âyou only ever see your best friend. never me.â
the apartment folded into silence. the fan hummed somewhere, the fridge buzzed. everything felt too loud and too small at once. your lips wobbled into another hiccupy laugh, but this one was sharp with the sting of unshed tears, âwhyâd you call me a mistake?â
the question hung there, fragile and heavy all at once. you didnât throw it like an accusation, didnât spit it out with anger. you said it like an ache you hadnât been able to bury, like a wound that had festered quietly in the dark until it spilled over.
yangyangâs chest seized so tight it hurt to breathe. he shook his head fast, desperate, like maybe if he shook hard enough the regret would come loose, âiâ,â his voice cracked on the first breath, a broken sound that burned his throat, âgod, i didnât mean-âbut you were already slipping, lashes sinking, your body curling inward under the blanket as if retreating into yourself. the alcohol had won, pulling you under just as the words had escaped.
and maybe that was the cruellest part â that your truth had finally spilled out when you were too drunk to hold it, and he was left with his regret alone. yangyang sank down onto the floor beside your bed, elbows digging into his knees, hands clasped so tight his knuckles went white. he stared at you through the dim light, your breathing uneven but soft, the blanket rising and falling gently with each inhale.
âi didnât mean it,â he whispered, words caught in the quiet hum of the room. his voice broke on the edges, too fragile to hold, âi never meant it.â
đ§ž OCTOBER 3 - SATURDAY - HAS IT ALWAYS BEEN LIKE THIS?
you woke up with your skull pounding, only to find a glass of water and a pack of pain relievers on your nightstand. suspicious. very suspicious. dragging yourself out of bed, you shuffled out of your bedroom, following the faint sound of pots clinking. when you peeked into your kitchen, yangyang was hunched over the stove, stirring something with more concentration than heâd ever given any of his classes.
âwhat did you break?â you croaked from the doorway.
he was startled so hard the ladle nearly flew out of his hand, âhuh? i didnât break anything,â he said, a little confused by your question.
you narrowed your eyes and walked up behind him, slipping your arms around his waist in a lazy back hug, chin landing on his shoulder, âthen why are you acting like a househusband right now?â
usually, he wouldâve shot back with something dumb but this time he just froze. because your body was warm against his back, your breath brushing his neck and suddenly his pulse was thunderous. he gripped the ladle tighter like it could anchor him. âuhâŠ,â he said brilliantly, staring very hard at the ramen, âbecauseâŠiâm nice?â
you snorted against his shoulder, voice muffled, âliar. youâre only nice when you want something or when you did something. did you clog the toilet? spill on the couch? scratch my switch again?â
âthat was one time!,â he protested, voice cracking, âand i told youâŠyour joy con was already peeling.âyou squeezed him tighter, laughing, which only made his heart beat harder. usually hugs between you two were nothing â habit, background noise in your friendship. but now it felt like he was hyper-aware of everything. the way your fingers fidgeted against his hoodie, the weight of your chin on his shoulder, the soft sway of your body pressed to his. desperate to distract himself, he tapped the spoon against the pot, âdonât distract the chef, iâm doing very important work here.â
you hummed, still clinging to him, âpretty sure boiling instant ramen isnât a michelin star situation.â
âhow dare you?â he teased though his ears were burning. after a couple more minutes, yangyang plopped the steaming bowls onto the table with an exaggerated flourish, âbreakfast is served. please, try not to cry from how amazing it is.â
you looked up from your chair and gave him a skeptical look, âwow. gordon ramsay better watch his back.â
âexactly,â he said with a grin, sliding into the chair right next to you instead of across like he normally did, âyou get it.â you snorted into your noodles. it was definitely the best hungover remedy. and when you slurped too fast and ended up coughing, he was already sliding the glass of water toward you, murmuring, âslow down, teddy,â with a softness that made your chest squeeze.
you nudged his shoulder with yours, âyouâre being weirdly sweet today.â
âweirdly?â he raised a brow, âiâm always sweet.â you laughed, shaking your head and for a second his gaze lingered on you too long, his grin softening into something he quickly masked by shoving a mouthful of noodles into his face.
after a stretch of comfortable slurping silence, you set your chopsticks down and tilted your head at him, âby the way, your birthdayâs in like, seven days, what do you want to do?â
he chewed slowly, stalling, before mumbling, âi donât know, maybe we could just rent an airbnb and celebrate like we do every year.â
you paused, blinking, âuhâŠwe usually do that with renjun and them.â
yangyang nodded, sipping his broth, âyeah, so?â
you leaned back, eyeing him, âsoâŠare you okay with inviting renjun this year?â
âyeah, weâre okay now,â he said simply, chopsticks tapping against the edge of his bowl.
your brow arched, âsince when?â
he froze mid-slurp, eyes darting anywhere but you, â...since recently.â
âuh-huh, thatâs specific,â you teased, leaning in, clearly not letting him off that easy.
his lips twitched, fighting a smile, âdrop it. eat your noodles before they get soggy.â but his ears were pink and you knew youâd hit something he wasnât ready to explain yet.
âąáŽ„âą
the ramen was gone, the bowls stacked in the sink and the two of you ended up exactly where you always did â sprawled on the couch. your legs tangled, his arm thrown lazily around you, your head pillowed against his chest. it was nothing new. this was normal. routine. but yangyang couldnât stop noticing how right it felt. the weight of you against him. the way your hair tickled his chin when you shifted. the soft, unconscious hum you let out when you finally settled, like his arms were the only place you could relax. he stared at the t.v. playing teen wolf but he wasnât absorbing any of it. his focus was on the way his arm curved so easily around your shoulders like it was molded for you. the way his hand rested against your side like it had always belonged there â had it always been like this? had you always fit this perfectly against him? how is it that he was just now realizing it?
your hand absently toyed with the hem of his hoodie, fingers brushing the fabric and he swore his heart stuttered. you let out a soft laugh at some random line stiles stilinski blurted out, your body shaking lightly against him and yangyangâs chest tightened all over again. he didnât move. didnât dare. he just held you a little closer, silently wondering when the ordinary started to feel extraordinary.
your phone buzzed from your coffee table. you shifted just enough to reach it, screen lighting up with shotaroâs name. yangyangâs arm tightened instinctively around you before he could stop himself. his eyes dropped, catching the stupid little smile tugging at your lips as you unlocked the screen.
âwhatâs so funny?,â he asked, casual on the surface but his voice had a sharper edge than usual. you tilted your head toward him, showing him the message without thinking:
shotaro: did you recover from last night?
shotaro: or should i fall off another bar stool to make you feel better?
you giggled, typing something back, âheâs so funny,â you mumbled, thumb flying across the screen. yangyangâs jaw clenched so tight it ached. funny. right. so nice he makes you laugh like that. his chest burned with it, a jealousy that felt too raw to admit out loud. he forced a laugh, nudging you lightly in the side, âwow, look at you, miss popular. am i supposed to get in line behind shotaro now?â
you snorted, tossing your phone back on the coffee table and leaning your weight into him again, oblivious to the storm brewing in his chest, âdonât be dramatic. youâre first in line. always.â
that should have soothed him. should have. but the words only lodged deeper, because at the end of the day he knew shotaro could hold you in ways he couldnât. could touch you in ways best friends shouldnât. and yangyang hated how much the word best friend was starting to sound like a prison.
eventually, your weight softened against him, breath evening out as you drifted off to sleep. he felt the exact moment your lashes fluttered closed and your body surrendered fully into his chest. yangyang stared at the ceiling, trying to quiet the noise in his head. but it was impossible with your cheek pressed over his heartbeat, with your hand curled loosely against his hoodie like you had been doing it forever, which you have. he told himself it was just comfort. that this was what best friends did. you fell asleep on him all the time after late-night movies or long days. but something about tonightâŠabout the way shotaroâs name lit up your phone, about how heâd felt a sharp, irrational sting in his chest just seeing it â made everything sharper. he exhaled slowly, his fingers absently brushing along your arm, realizing how silence felt less like emptiness and more like home with you filling it. the thought scared him. because if he let himself believe, it, he wasnât sure he could ever go back. so he lay there, still and quiet, letting you sleep while his mind circled the same truth he wasnât ready to admit even to himself.
đ§ž OCTOBER 4-9 - SUNDAY-FRIDAY - REALIZATIONS.
the next day, you both swore off productivity, ordering greasy takeout and eating cross-legged on the living room floor because it was way more comfortable than your table. you told some ridiculous story â hands waving, face animated. yangyang laughed so hard he nearly choked on his fried rice. then he noticed how easily the sleeves of his hoodie swallowed your hands, how you leaned across the cartons to swat his chopsticks away from stealing another bite. the moment stretched too long. his chest tightened.
on monday, you dragged him for ice cream at the convenience store right after class. you bickered about flavors, your hand brushing his when you both reached for the same one. he laughed it off like always but his skin buzzed where your fingered grazed. later, when you leaned against his shoulder on the way back, arm linked around, spooning bites from your cup into his mouth without think, he had to swallow twice â once for the ice cream, once for the realization that he wanted this forever.
on tuesday in painting ii. you took your usual seats. you dipped your brush, tongue poking at the corner of your lips as you concentrated. yangyang tried to focus on his own canvas but every few minutes he caught himself staring instead â at the slope of your nose, the way your hair slipped loose and you absentmindedly tucking it behind your ear. you had called him out on it with a simple, âwhy are you staring at me?â his ears burned, he covered it with a scoff, dragging his brush harder than necessary, âplease, iâm just laughing at how seriously youâre taking this.â but when you leaned over suddenly to dab a streak of blue onto his canvas, laughing when he gasped, yangyang swore your laughter made his heart stop.
on wednesday, you spent the evening sprawled in your living room, controllers in hand, locked in a mario kart bottle, âstop pushing me off the track!â you yelped, shoving his shoulder. yangyang grinned, not taking his eyes off the screen, âitâs called strategy, teddy.â the nickname he used all the came out sweeter, softer. you groaned dramatically as his kart sped past yours on the final lap, âyou cheated!â he laughed but when you pouted, he wondered why winning a mario kart game suddenly felt like a loss.
on thursday, you were stretched out on your bed when he walked in, laptop open, calendar pulled up. he tossed himself onto the bed behind you, phone in hand, mr. bear in the other.
without looking up, you said casually, âi booked the airbnb for your birthday weekend.â
his head popped up âalready?â
you hummed, still typing, âyeah, same spot as last year. i figured itâd be easier to just stick with what we know.â you glanced back at him with a small smile, âi invited our usual crew â xiaojun, hendery, ningning, renjun andâŠuhâŠthe new addition, love,â you said her name carefully, like testing the weight of it. he used to flinch at the mention or brush it off too quickly like he didnât want to deal with it. but tonight, yangyang just blinked, nodding.
âyeah, cool,â he said. no hesitation. no shift in his expression. just easy, even.
you narrowed your eyes, turning fully to face him, âwait, thatâs it? no sarcastic comments, no sighing, no complaints?â
yangyang smirked, shrugging lazily, âwhat do you want me to say? iâm over it.â
âover it?â you echoed, skeptical.
âover it.â he repeated, getting more comfortable in your pillows. you stared at him for a moment, like you were trying to read between his words. he only stretched out more, feigning nonchalance. but inside, yangyang was reeling â not because of love. but because of howâŠnothing it felt. the name that used to twist his stomach now barely registered, as if the tether had been cut without him noticing. the only thing tugging at him now was you, sitting cross-legged on your bed in another one of his oversized t-shirts, hair falling into your eyes as you frowned at your laptop. and he was sure â he didnât care who else came to his birthday. as long as you were there.
by the time friday night settled in, everything felt quieter, softer. the apartment lights were dim, the only glow coming from the t.v. screen where another episode of teen wolf played. you were curled up against him the way you always where. this was what you did every week, every day practically. but just like last week, yangyang couldnât focus on the screen. his eyes traced the crown of your head, the curve of your cheek pressed against him, the way you unconsciously shifted closer like your body had long decided he was home. his arm curved around you tighter. he couldnât stop replaying your drunk words in his head, the way youâd whispered, âwhy donât you ever see me?â because god, he did. he saw you everywhere now. in the way you looked after him, in the way you teased him, in the way your laugh made something catch in his chest. he saw you in everything. the realization sank into him heavy, immovable, inescapable â he was in love with you. it had slipped in quietly, disguised as years of friendship and routines until suddenly it was all he could feel. he was in love with his best friend.
đ§ž OCTOBER 10 - SATURDAY - TRUTH OR DARE?
the eight-seater car was cramped and noisy, hendery and xiaojun in the front arguing over directions, ningning on the aux cord singing at the top of her lungs, love laughing at renjunâs terrible jokes in the back. but for yangyang, the entire drive felt muted. his focus kept pulling back to you, sitting right next to him, in the middle of all the chaos. the way you leaned your head against his shoulder, tapping absentmindedly at your phone. the way your laugh rose above the noise like it was the only sound that mattered. it was his birthday, but he couldnât bring himself to care about anything except the fact that you were there, pressed against him, fitting like you belonged in that spot. and when you reached for the water bottle in the cupholder by his side, hand brushing his thigh by accident. he didnât flinch. didnât move. he just swallowed, eyes fixed forward, like he could will his heartbeat to steady.
it took a total of two hours to finally arrive at the airbnb where chaos amplified as everyone claimed rooms, bickering about unpacking and setting up the food/supplies that you guys brought. you tugged yangyang along by the wrist, insisting he help you set up the decorations you hid in your bag.
âsurprise,â you grinned, throwing up string lights across the living room, âthought we could make it more festive.â
he stared at the lights, then at you, then back again, âshouldnât you have set it up first and then said surprise,â he teases, trying to ignore the soft pull in his chest.
âyou really think i have time to sneak away and set this up without you catching me?,â you giggled, handing him the opposite end of the string light as the two of you decorated the living room together.
the rest of the day unfolded in a blur of noise â hendery grilling, ningning forcing everyone into drinking games, renjun rolling his eyes so hard they almost got stuck, xiaojun turning up his birthday party playlist, laughter and music filling the house. as night fell, everyone was in there swimwears, lounging in the airbnbâs hot tub, steaming under the night sky, stars hazy overhead, bottles clinking against the rim as everyone crammed in shoulder to shoulder. ningning was the mastermind, of course â three beers in and declaring that the only logical next step was truth or dare.
yangyang had been fine all day, riding the edge between best friend comfort and the dizzy new weight of knowing he was in love with you. but now, with you pressed against his side in the crowded tub, legs brushing underwater, hair damp with steam and stray pieces sticking to your cheeks â he felt wrecked.
âokay, okay,â ningning grinned, pointing the empty bottle at him first, âbirthday boy starts. truth or dare?â
âtruth.â
âboo, boring,â ningning pouted, then leaned in, eyes glinting with mischief, âfine. who here would you most want to kiss?â
the group whooped immediately. renjun looked a little nervous. while xiaojun and hendery banged on the sides of the tub like a drumroll. yangyangâs throat closed. his eyes flickered sideways before he could stop himself â landing on you. you were laughing, shaking your head, splashing ningning in mock protest.
âpass,â yangyang muttered, heat rushing up to his neck.
âno passes on your birthday!,â ningning sang, a smug smile on her face.
yangyang only took another sip, stubbornly silent until henderey hollered, âcoward!â and the group dissolved into laughter. the game spiraled from there. dares to shotgun beers, truths about old crushes, ningning trying to get hendery to admit he had feelings for someone. you were glowing from it all, laughter spilling free, leaning heavier into yangyangâs side with every drink. everyone was loose, loud, shoulders bumping and splashing. ningning, of course, was thriving, eyes glittering as she scanned the circle fo her next victim.
âalright, y/n,â she grinned, pointing the empty bottle at you, âtruth or dare?â
you thought about it for a second or two, the past two turns youâve picked truth and now you were drunk enough for something bolder â âdare.â
ningning smirked like sheâd just thought of the juiciest thing in the world, âi dare you toââ her eyes flicked between you and yangyang, lingering on the way you were half draped against his side without ever realizing it, ââkiss the person youâd most want to take home tonight.â
the tub erupted in hoots, xiaojunâs obnoxious âooooOooOoohhHHh,â hendery splashing water everywhere, love grinning from ear to ear, renjun smirked at yangyang with an eyebrow raised like he already knew your answer and was waiting for you to confirm it. your stomach dropped but your grin stayed, drunk and playful. you turned your face toward yangyang, meaning to laugh it off, to share the mortified joke with your best friend. but he was already looking at you. already too close. his eyes unreadable in the dim of the hot tubâs light.
the air shifted. everyone else was still howling, waiting, chanting, KISS, KISS, KISS.
you leaned in just the tiniest bit â maybe to play along, maybe because the alcohol made it too easy, maybe because you wanted to kiss him. then your lips brushed his cheek. quick. harmless. but his hand clenched under the water, near your thigh, and you swore you felt the way his breath caught.
âlammmeee!,â hendery groaned. renjun, though, was smirking like heâd seen something the others hadnât.
the dares heightened after that. more splashing, more laughter, someone daring xiaojun to stay underwater for two minutes or post an ugly selfie on his instagram story. but then renjun, grinning wickedly, fixed his eyes on yangyang, daring â âtruth or dare, yang.â
yangyang swiped his wet hair back, rolling his eyes, âfine. dare.â
his grin widened, âi dare you to let the person of your choice sit on your lap for the next three rounds.â
the group cheered, ningning literally cackling, renjunâs teasing smile burning into his mind because they both knew there was only one person he would choose. yangyang froze before playing it off, like it didnât have any effect on him at all. he smirked faintly, masking the way his pulse spiked before turning to you and patting his thigh under the bubbling water, âcome on, teddyâŠdonât keep them waiting.â
you punched him playfully on the shoulder, giggling, before taking your seat anyway. and yangyang swore the heat of the hot tub canât even compare to the heat of your skin against his.
the game went on, laughter and half-slurred joked spilled into the night. everyone was a little loose, a little unguarded, the alcohol smoothing edges that usually stayed sharp. until you were sitting back against the hot tub wall, cheeks flushed from both the heat and the drink. yangyang sat beside you once again, thigh brushing yours underwater in that way that felt accidental but wasnât.
âokay, back to you,â ningning said, pointing at you, âtruth or dare?â
you groaned dramatically, already feeling like the game has been dragging on, âtruth.â
renjun smirked like a cat whoâd just spotted a cornered mouse, âhave you ever had a crush on anyone in this circle?â
yangyang stiffened beside you so suddenly you could feel the ripple of tension run through him. your mouth opened, then closed. you knew it was supposed to be fun and harmless but the way everyone was leaning in made your heart thud in your chest.
âuhâ,â you cleared your throat, fumbling, â...maybe,â you admitted, forcing a smile like you werenât two seconds away from boiling alive. ningning clutched xiaojunâs arm, demanding names, hendery started throwing out wild guesses, starting with himself, and renjun looked smug as hell, satisfied with the chaos heâd caused.
before it could escalate, love, seemed to sense your discomfort. she shoots you a small smile before tugging on her boyfriendâs arm, laughing as she said, âokay, i think weâve had our fun, come on junie, letâs go,â and when renjun protested, complaining about how the fun just started, love whispered something in his ear and not even a second after, they slipped out of the water together, exchanging a glance that was not so subtle about where they were headed. definitely not just to sleep. ningning yawned next, waving a lazy hand, âyeah, okay you can keep your secret, iâm too sleepy for this,â she padded off toward her room, towel wrapped around her shoulders. xiaojun and hendery werenât far behind, drunkenly bickering about who had been the worst at the dares. their voices faded as they disappeared down the hall, leaving the night suddenly quiet except for the gentle hum of the hot hub.
it was just you and yangyang now.
the air felt different, heavier, the stars above wide and indifferent to the way your pulse quickened.
yangyang leaned back against the tub wall, tilting his head toward you with that lazy grin that always made him look like he knew too much, âsoâŠ,â he drawled, eyes gleaming the low light, âyouâve had a crush on someone here, huh?â his tone was teasingly playful, voice slurring ever so slightly with the beer in his system, but underneath it something flickered sharper like he wanted the answer more than heâd admit, âwhyâd you never tell me?â
you tipped your head, water glinting off your shoulders as you gave him a sly grin, âthatâs not the question renjun asked.â
he let out a low laugh, shaking his head, hair damp against his forehead, âyouâre annoying.â
the two of you sat there in silence for a while, the tension coiling tight as the bubbles hummed around you.
âalright,â you said suddenly, breaking the silence with a mischievous lilt, âtruth or dare?â
he didnât even hesitate, âtruth.â
you leaned in just a little, eyes dancing, âwhatâs your birthday wish?â
his lips curved, but this time it wasnât the usual playful smirk. it was softer, more dangerous, âmy wish,â he said, voice low, âis for you to say dare.â
your chest tightened. the steam, the closeness, the weight of his gaze â it all pressed down at once but you nodded, pretending not to notice the way your pulse jumped. âfine. dare.â
his smirk returned but it didnât reach his eyes. they stayed locked on you, unwavering, âi dare youâŠto kiss your crush.â
you barked out a laugh, shaking your head, âyou realize how ridiculous that sounds? thereâs only two of us left here.â
âi know,â yangyang said, serious now, the playfulness stripped away. his hand shifted under the water, brushing against your thigh, grounding and dangerous all at once, âthatâs the point. i canât watch you kiss anyone else.â
your pulse thundered in your ears. the weight of his confession hung between you, heavier than the steam, heavier then the alcohol in your veins.
you swallowed hard, your laugh breaking somewhere in your throat, âwhat?...â but he was already leaning closer. not enough to touch, not enough to cross the line just yet, but close enough that you felt the heat of his breath on your lips. his eyes flicked down, just once, before snapping back up to yours like was daring you to stop him. you didnât. instead, your hand, like it had a mind of its own, reached up and curled into the damp hair at the back of his neck, tugging him down that last inch.
the kiss was clumsy at first, a brush of lips softened by too many beers but the second it landed, everything tilted. his mouth slanted over yours with a hunger that startled you both, like heâd been holding back for years without even realizing it. his hand found your waist, gripping tight, pulling you flush against him until you were straddling him, water sloshing over the edge of the hot tub. the taste of beer, the faint sting of chlorine, the low groan rumbling from his chest when you kissed him harder â it all blurred into something dizzying, something that felt far too good to be just a dare.
he pulled back just enough to breathe, lips dragging along your jaw before he caught your mouth again. between kisses, his voice rumbled low, teasing but raw around the edges.
âtruth or dare?â
you laughed into his mouth, breathless, trying to kiss him again, âyang, seriously?â
âanswer the question,â he murmured, lips still grazing yours like he couldnât stay away.
âtruth,â you murmured, too far gone to even think of anything else.
he stilled for half a beat, eyes burning into yours. then, softer than the steam curling around you, he asked, âdo you still have a crush on me now?â
you didnât bother answering his question with words. you leaned in, kissing him harder, pouring everything you didnât dare say for the past five years into the press of your mouth. he melted into the kiss instantly, pulling you closer like he couldnât get close enough.
when you finally pulled back for air, your lips brushed against his, whispering, âtruth or dare?â
his chest rose against yours, heartbeat erratic beneath your palm, his voice came out rough, almost broken, âdare.â
your mouth curled into a small mischievous smile, though your pulse was thrumming so loud it was deafening, âi dare youâŠto take off my top.â
the words hung between you, heavy and dangerous. you both froze for a heartbeat, aware of exactly what you were doing. aware of the line being crossed, again, only deeper this time. yangyangâs eyes locked onto yours, molten and unflinching. his hands, still braced at your waist, slid upward, hesitating. and then, right before his fingers reached the tie of your bikini top, he stilled.
âteddy,â he said, voice low but certain, âthis is not a mistake.â
you were breathing hard, your heart pounding erratically in your chest at the words youâve been wanting to hear. your answer came without hesitation, raw and true, âgood,â you whispered, leaning closer until your nose brushed his, âi never wanted it to be.â
your words seem to undo him. whatever hesitation that lingered in his chest cracked open, spilling into the space between you. his hand rose, fingers brushing against your damp skin, following the string at the nape of your neck. his gaze never left yours. not once. even as his thumb toyed with the knot of your bikini top, he held your eyes like he needed your permission written there. you nodded once, barely, but it was enough. with a slow tug, the knot gave, the strings loosening under his fingers. your heart pounded so loud you swore he could hear it, feel it. his hand slid down your back to find the second tie, undoing it with the same deliberate care. the fabric slackened, floating away between you until your chest pressed against his. his breath hitched, sharp and reverent, and he immediately pulled you closer, shielding you with his body, as if even the night air wasnât worthy of seeing you.
âfuck,â he muttered under his breath, voice wrecked, forehead pressing against yours, âyouâre gonna kill me.â
you let out a shaky laugh, wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling the heat of his skin against yours, âthatâs dramatic.â
he laughed before his mouth claimed yours again and you felt the unmistakable press of him through his soaked shorts, spurring you on, hips moving on instinct, grinding down slowly, his low groan vibrating against your lips.
âshit, teddyââ his hands gripped your hips, fingers digging in like he was trying to anchor you. the scrape of his teeth caught your bottom lip before his mouth trailed lower. the kisses down your throat, over your collarbone, made you shiver even in the hot water. and then he found your breast, lips closing over your nipple, hot and wet and desperate. you gasped, clutching at his hair, arching against him as this tongue swirled over you.
âyangyangââ you whimpered, rocking against him harder, his groan rumbling against your chest, sending sparks straight to your core as his tongue flicked and sucked, the sensation making your head spin.
âfuck,â he rasped against your skin, pulling back just enough to look up at you, water dripping from his hair, eyes darker than youâd ever seen them, âyou feel so good. you donât even know what youâre doing to me.â
but you did know. you could feel him straining against his shorts with every grind of your hips. you could feel the heat in your stomach curling so hard, begging for release â your body continued rolling against him, nipples swollen from his mouth. the thin barrier of his shorts wasnât enough anymore. and you know heâs thinking the same thing.
yangyang broke from your chest, breath ragged, voice cracking as he rasped, âteddy, i-i need to feel youâŠ.please.â
you pulled back just enough to look at him, your lips parted, your chest heaving. the sight of him â pupils blown wide, hair plastered to his forehead, jaw clenched like holding himself back was killing him, made you smirk through your own heavy breathing.
âno oneâs stopping you.â
the words were a fuse. his hands shoved his shorts down beneath the water, the movement frantic, desperate. you pushed your bikini bottoms to the side, heat flooding every nerve as the head of his cock brushed against you.
you both gasped at the contact. he was thick, hot, even through the water pressing insistently against your entrance. for a second, yangyangâs hands froze on your hips, like he couldnât believe this was happening.
âfuck, teddyââ he groaned as you took charge, lining him up, the initial intrusion causing his forehead to drop against your shoulder, voice shaking. âyouâre so tight, iââ his voice broke off as you sank down onto him slowly, inch by inch, his cock stretching you open in a way that felt impossible.
ây-yeah? wellââ you shuddered out a shaky laugh that melted into a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders, your body trembling, water sloshing gently against your back as you clung to him, he was so big you swore your breath caught in your throat, âyouâreâ fuckâ youâre huge.â
the moment you were fully seated on him, both of you froze. it was too much. too good. nothing has ever felt so right before. your walls fluttered around him, greedy and unrelenting, and yangyang swore under his breath, a sound wrecked and reverent all at once.
âyou feelâfuckâyou feel unreal,â he panted, lifting his head just to kiss you â not rushed, not messy, but slow and deep. his tongue with yours, his lips moving in perfect rhythm, like he needed to savor the feel of you wrapped around him as much as he needed the air in his lungs.
you rolled your hips tentatively, a grinding movement that had the head of his cock dragging against every tender spot inside you, both of you moaning into each otherâs mouths, the sound swallowed in the kiss.
âholy shit,â he breathed against your lips, his grip tightening when you did it again, slower this time, testing just how much of him you could take. the water shifted with every grind, bubbles brushing your bare chest as his mouth dropped back to your nipple, sucking softly, as if the added pleasure would distract him from how close he already felt.
your fingers tangled in his damp hair, tugging gently, âyangyangâoh my godâyou feel so goodâ you cut yourself off with another whimper, grinding down harder. every grind sent sparks shooting up your spine, left your lips parting against his in a helpless moan. yangyang was shaking under you, every muscle pulled tight like he was trying to hold himself back.
but restraint couldnât last.
you rocked against him harder, deeper, chasing that spot inside you that made your thighs tremble. his grip on your waist turned desperate, nails digging into your damp skin as though anchoring himself from falling apart too fast. the water sloshed around you, hot and slick, bubbling higher with each movement.
âf-fuck, teddyââ his voice cracked on your nickname, raw and reverent all at once. âi canâtâgod, youâre so perfect.â
you moaned into his mouth, biting at his bottom lip as you rolled your hips again. your nails clawed down his back, urging him closer, deeper, âdonât hold back,â you whispered, breathless, half a plea and half a dare.
that undid him. his hands slid from your waist to your ass, hauling you down with every thrust of his hips. the rhythm shifted â messy, uneven, full of wet slaps and broken moans. every push of him inside you had you gasping into his neck, your body quivering against his. the hot tub water splashed against the sides, the whole night echoing with the sound of skin against skin and the helpless noises spilling out of your throats.
yangyangâs mouth was everywhere â your jaw, your throat, your nipple caught between his teeth before he soothed the sting with his tongue. each kiss felt like him branding you, marking you as his.
âteddy, iâshitââ his words tumbled out between gasps, his forehead pressing against yours again, sweat and water dripping down his temples, âi need more, i need all of youââ
before you could even respond, his arms slid beneath you, hoisting you up effortlessly. a squeak tore from your throat as your body hit the cool night air, suddenly perched on the slick edge of the hot tub. goosebumps prickled your skin, but then he surged forward, slipping back inside you in one deep thrust â your body yielding around him like it had been made for him all along.
it was overwhelming. without the drag of the water, yangyang had total control now, and every snap of his hips hit so much harder. your thighs trembled as you clung to his shoulders, meeting every desperate grind, every bruising thrust. the rhythm turned frantic â like all those years of buried tension had come bursting out at once, and now you both couldnât stop even if you wanted to.
âyangyangâoh my godââ you cried, head falling back, nails leaving red trails down his slick shoulders.
âiâve got you,â he groaned against your chest, voice ragged and low, before his mouth latched onto your nipple, sucking hungrily. his hips never faltered, each thrust driving you further against the edge, the sound of wet skin slapping echoing sharp against the bubbling water behind him.
pressure coiled unbearably hot and tight in your belly. your fingers tangled in his hair, yanking his mouth up to yours in a messy, desperate kiss. you moaned into him as you ground down harder, and then it broke â your body seized, thighs locking around his waist as pleasure crashed over you in waves, his name tearing from your throat in sobbed cries.
yangyang lost it the second he felt you tighten. his hips jerked erratically, a guttural groan ripped from deep in his chest. âfuckâteddy, iâm comingâoh, fuckââ he buried himself deep, spilling inside you, heat flooding you as his release poured out in thick pulses, making you clench tighter around him. neither of you cared that he came inside. you both kept grinding, chasing every last ounce of it, until the tremors finally slowed. he slumped against you, chest heaving, lips brushing your temple, cock still throbbing inside you, the connection grounding you as the steam rose around your trembling bodies.
you shut your eyes, resting your cheek against his damp hair, listening to the frantic rhythm of his heart, catching your breath. when you finally opened them, his gaze was already fixed on you, dark and unreadable, like he was holding something back. instead of words, he kissed youâslow and soft, a promise tucked inside the gentleness. a way to show that this wasnât just a one time thing.
silence fell again, heavy with steam and the sound of water bubbling. after a long moment, you whispered, voice raspy, âletâs go to bed, yang.â
his arms tightened around your waist like he didnât want to let go, then finally loosened. âyeah. okay.â
you slid off his lap carefully, tugging your bikini into place as your shared juices dripped down your thighs and into the water, body still buzzing from him. yangyang climbed out after you, quieter than usual, grabbing a towelâhis eyes flicking toward you, then away, like he wasnât ready to break the spell just yet.
đ§ž OCTOBER 11 - SUNDAY - ONE MORE TRUTH.
the two of you split off into separate bathrooms, water running in unison. under the spray, you pressed your palms to the tiled wall, letting it scald your shoulders. the memory of his hands on your body replayed relentlessly â the way heâd held you so tightly in the water, like he was afraid youâd disappear. it hadnât just been sex. that much you couldnât lie about, not even to yourself.
yangyang was telling himself the same thing in his shower, he leaned against the wall, eyes shut, trying to steady the rush still coursing through him. he could still feel the shape of you around him, still hear the way youâd said his name, soft and broken. he wanted to call it heat, or alcohol, or just a dare gone too far. but none of that explained the way his chest had clenched when you looked at him, like you were his before either of you said a word.
you move slower than you mean to â careful, deliberate steps as if the floorboards might betray you. your hair is still damp, the oversized shirt clinging to your shoulders, the cotton cool against your skin. when you padded into the bedroom, he was already there. propped against the headboard, scrolling half-heartedly through his phone. he glanced up the second the door clicked, and his mouth tugged into a soft, almost shy smile. he patted the space beside him, âcome here.â
the invitation is ordinary, an old habit. you hesitate only because thereâs a seam of something new under it, the after of what you did in the water, the newness of the words neither of you have fully confessed yet. you matched his smile and climbed onto the bed.
the awkwardness buzzed faintly between you. the sheet is warm where you settle, his arm wraps around you without thinking. itâs automatic and itâs everything. for a long beat you let the familiar do the work â his chin resting softy on top of your head, the slow, steady cadence of his breath, the way his chest feels against your back, his arms wrapping around your middle. your breaths begin to line up, one inhale, one exhale, a private metronome.
the words that have been circling your chest all night press at the edges again. âwhat happens now?â you murmured, barely above a whisper.
he doesnât answer right away, but you feel he pause in his steady heartbeat, âcan i tell you another truth?â he asks, voice small in a way youâve never heard from him before. you twist in his arms, turning so your face is level with his. the lamp casts half his features in soft glow. for a second, the room shrinks to the space between your chests, your foreheads almost touching. when youâre this close your heart does that thing it always does â it remembers every stupid, tender moment youâve ever shared.
âwhatâs your truth?â you whisper.
he swallows nervously. his thumb softly swiping over the back of your hand, finding that spot he always does when heâs trying to steady himselfâ
âteddyââ he takes a deep breath, his gaze solely focused on yours, âiâm in love with you.â
it lands softer than you expected, quiet and seismic all at once. for a beat you only hear the blood in your ears and the faint rasp of his breath. his confession sits on the air between you, vulnerable and impossible. youâve imagined this. rehearsed it in the quiet parts of late nights for years. but you always thought it would come from your lips, not his.
your mouth quirked before your brain caught up. small at first but honest, âabout time,â you breathed, and the laugh that followed was wet and relieved, breaking out of you like a release valve.
he blinked, a strangled laugh tumbling from him out of sheer surprise, then a tiny, disbelieving smile split his face wide, âabout time?â he echoed, like it was the most ridiculous and wonderful thing heâd ever heard.
you reach up and press your palm to his cheek, grounding the both of you, âyeahâŠiâve been in love with you for a long time,â you admitted, softer than you meant, confession spilling out now because the shape of him in the dark makes honesty easier than pretending, âyou just⊠finally caught up.â
his eyes widened, awe bleeding into guilt, like he couldnât believe what he just heard, like he couldnât imagine why he never noticed it before, âbut,â he mumbled, voice tightening, âbut what about shotaro?â
you giggled, the sound soft but sure, âi told you,â you said, âwe just fuck sometimes.â his fingers clamped possessively at your waist without thinking, grip tightening in a way that made your breath catch. the thought of you with another man had a new jagged edge to it now. he didnât even want to picture it.
âhe knows,â you went on gently, eyes searching his, ââŠabout me being in love with you. thatâs why itâs easy with him. thereâs no feelings involved,â your voice dropped smaller, more vulnerable. âthere never were.â
yangyangâs face lifted, a slow, unreadable expression dawning across his features. he couldnât believe his ears. none of it made sense â how you could have been in love with him all this time and he never noticed? he tries coming up with another excuse.
âbut i saw you two cuddling on the couchâŠafter weââ he confessed, faltering on purpose, âthen you guys went on a dateââ
you shook your head firmly, voice steady, âhe was at my place because i cussed him out for initiating the whole seven minutes game,â you said, the memory of that party still sharp, âi got mad at him because i thought our friendship was ruined â and that wasnât a date. it was a favor. nothing more.â you tucked your hand behind his neck, fingers threading into his hair, and the nervousness in his shoulders began to unravel as he leaned into your touch.
âgod, iâm such an idiot,â he laughed, brittle around the edges.
âyou always were the slower one,â you tease, thumb stroking the curve of his cheek. the old banter folds in around the new truths like a familiar blanket, âi was always the smarter one between the two of us.â
he snorts, that almost annoyed noise that used to end argument when you were kids. but itâs softer now, threading through with something like wonder, âhow long have you been in love with me?â
you smiled shyly, eyes dropping before you forced them back up to his, âlikeâŠfive years.â
âteddyââ he groaned, burying his face in your shoulder for a second before pulling back with wide, disbelieving eyes. âyou kept a secret from me for five years?!â
âhey! you canât blame me!,â you pouted, âhow was i supposed to tell you i was in love with you when you had girl after girlâŠand then you fell in love and it all just feltâŠtoo late. plus iâd rather be your friend forever than lose you.â
yangyang looked at you with something between amusement and heartbreak at your outburst, his lips twitching into a helpless smile, âwellâŠi canât be just friends anymore,â he said finally, certain in a way that left no space for argument. your chest ached, the good kind, the kind that made everything inside you expand all at once. you cupped his jaw, tilting your face up before your courage could falter. and then you kissed him. it wasnât like the hot tub or that drunken night. that had been fevered, messy, reckless with want. this â this was slow. careful. the kind of reverence that made your pulse stumble, his hand cradling the back of your neck as if you were something fragile.
but then, right as his thumb traced the corner of your jaw, right as you felt him about to tilt you back into the mattress â you broke into a laugh against his lips. yangyang pulled back, frowning, breath warm against your cheek, âwhy are you laughing?â
you covered your mouth, still giggling helplessly, âi justâ,â your shoulders shook as the absurdity of it all rushed through you, âi canât believe iâm making out with my best friend.â
his brows furrowed, feeling offended, though his eyes betrayed the smile fighting to break through. he leaned back just enough to glare at you playfully, âcorrection. youâre making out with your boyfriend.â
the word hit your ears like a spark, and your laugh turned into a grin you couldnât contain, âboyfriend, huh?â you teased, eyes glinting.
âyeah,â he tugged you back into him with a cocky little tilt of his head, lips brushing yours again, âbetter get used to it, teddy. iâm not letting you downgrade me to âbest friendâ ever again.â
but then he tilted his head down, catching the way you were staring at him with an amused expression. âwhat now?â he asked, suspicious.
you smirked, âjust trying to process that my best friend is suddenly my boyfriend.â
he groaned, tossing his head back dramatically against the pillows, âwellâŠprocess it faster.â
you giggled, nudging his ribs with your elbow. âfine, fine. youâre my boyfriend. happy?â
he angled his gaze back down at you, eyes gleaming, âsay it again.â
you rolled your eyes, grinning, âpushy. typical boyfriend behavior already.â
âbetter than being your dumb, oblivious best friend you secretly loved for five years,â he shot back, pinching your side until you squealed. the room filled with your laughter, tangled together in that familiar, easy way that had always belonged to you.
but when the laughter quieted, his hand didnât move from your waist. instead, his thumb brushed over your hipbone slowly, thoughtful, like he was weighing something in his head. his voice dropped lower, softer, âyou knowâŠi need to make up for that night.â
âyangyangââ you started, nerves and anticipation colliding.
but he was already shifting, pressing his lips to your temple, then your cheek, then the line of your jaw. each kiss deliberate, unhurried, âthat night was sloppy. messy. we were too drunk to know what we were doing,â his fingers skimmed under the hem of your shirt, teasing bare skin as his mouth trailed down your throat, âyou deserve better than that. you deserve me⊠taking my time.â heat flushed through you as he rolled you gently onto your back, his body hovering above yours. the lamp light traced the sharp edges of his features, the tenderness in his eyes. slowly, carefully, he pushed your shirt up, enough to cup your breasts in his hands, pressing kisses on each one, then lower to the curve of your stomach. each one softer than the last, reverent in a way that made your pulse stutter.
when his fingers reached the waistband of your shorts, he glanced up at you, pausing just long enough to let you breathe him in, âlet me make it up to you,â he murmured, voice wrecked and earnest. his words settled over you like a vow. you nodded, breath shaky, and his lips curved into something soft before he dipped back down, resuming his trail of kisses. every inch of you got his attention like he was memorizing it. he tugged your shorts down slowly, as if he wanted you to feel the air, the anticipation, the way his fingers brushed your thighs when he peeled the fabric away.
your pulse was erratic, your skin buzzing. he kissed down the inside of your thigh with the same patience heâd shown everywhere else, alternating between soft presses and teasing grazes that had your legs twitching. two of his fingers pressed down on your clit, rubbing slow circles, and your breath hitched causing him to look up at you through his lashes, hair falling into his eyes. the sight alone nearly unraveled you.
âyou okay?â he asked, voice low, thumb brushing circles on your hip.
âyeah,â you whispered, your throat tight, âbetter than okay.â
his smile was quick, almost boyish, before his mouth took over, kissing your clit. then he swiped his tongue, slow and deliberate, through your folds. you gasped, back arching at the contact and he hummed against you, pleased, doing it again â unhurried, savoring the taste of you like it was something heâd been starving for.
âgod, teddyâŠâ he murmured between licks, his breath hot against your skin, âyou taste so much better when iâm not drunk out of my mind.â your laugh came out strangled, breaking on a moan when his tongue circled your clit with devastating precision. he licked you slowly, thoroughly, like he was relearning you sober â mapping every reaction, every breathless sound you made. his hands pinned your thighs gently apart, thumbs stroking comfort into your skin as his mouth worked lower, then back up again, dragging out your pleasure.
you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging when the intensity built, but he only groaned into you and pressed closer, like he wanted you to fall apart. right there. every flick of his tongue was patient, teasing, until he found the rhythm that made you cry out his name. he pulled back just slightly, lips shiny, eyes blown wide with heat as he looked up at you, âthis pussyâs mine now. you know that, right?â
the dirty talk had you reeling. you nodded desperately, words falling apart in your throat, ây-yeahâyang, please, donât stop.â
he smirked, dipping his head again, his tongue flattening against you in a long, devastating drag, âdidnât plan on it.â and then he devoured you properly â no rush, no hesitation, just steady, reverent focus, kissing and licking you like he was worshipping every inch of you. the slow build had you trembling, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every deliberate movement until all you could do was gasp his name and hold on. yangyang didnât let up. every kiss, every slow flick of his tongue was intentional, drawing you higher and higher until you were trembling under him. he alternated between teasing circles and deeper, more insistent strokes, pulling soft whimpers and gasps from your throat that you couldnât bite back, each one turning into a loud moan, unfiltered.
âteddy,â he murmured against you, voice wrecked, âyouâre shaking.â
you tried to reply, but the words dissolved into a moan as he wrapped his lips around your clit and sucked, slow and steady, until your back arched off the mattress â the pleasure coiling so tightly it felt like your body couldnât contain it. when you finally broke, it was sharp and overwhelming, your fingers pulling helplessly at his hair as waves of heat rolled through you. he held you down through it, tongue softening but never leaving you, coaxing every aftershock until you were pushing him away. only when your thighs stopped trembling did he finally ease back, pressing one last kiss against your sensitive skin before lifting his head. his lips glistened, his hair was a mess, and his smile was small but devastatingly fond.
âthatâs how it shouldâve been,â he said, voice hoarse, as he climbed up and pressed a tongue filled kiss on your lips, letting you taste yourself on him, as he pulled your shirt back down, carefully covering you.
you let out a weak laugh, body so relaxed you almost slipped into darkness. when his weight settled against your side, you curled into him, face pressing into his shoulder. there was only the sound of your breath evening out, the warmth of him grounding. but then you shifted, reaching for the waistband of his sweats with fumbling fingers, âyour turn,â you whispered, trying to push past your sleepiness.
he caught your wrist easily, chuckling, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, âyou can barely keep your eyes open, teddy,â he teased softly, brushing damp strands of hair from your forehead.
âi can do it,â you argued weakly, though your body betrayed you with a sleepy yawn.
yangyang laughed again, low and gentle, kissing the crown of your head as he tucked you closer into his chest, âwe have all the time in the world for that next time,â he murmured, then his grin turned playful, âbut i canât believe i fucked you out just from that, look at me already being the best boyfriend.â
that earned a weak swat against his chest, âyouâre so full of yourselfâŠitâs the beerâs fault, not you.â
he ignores that with a playful eye roll, âand you,â he leaned down to murmur against your temple, âare so loud. i swear, everyone in this house knows what we just did.â
your cheeks burned as you smacked him again, though it lacked any heat, âshut up.â
yangyang laughed, that low, husky sound that made your stomach flip, âiâm not complaining, it was really hotâŠbut iâm just saying, teddy, if you wanted to announce weâre official, there were easier ways.â
you buried your face deeper into his chest, muttering, âi hate you.â
his arms tightened around you instantly, the teasing giving way to something softer, âno, you donât.â
he kissed your hair, then added with a smile you could hear in his voice, âbut i love you.â you pulled him tighter, too sleepy for anything else, earning a chuckle from him again, as he pulled the blanket up around both of you, tucking it securely like he never wanted to let you go.
âąáŽ„âą
the morning light filtered pale and soft through the curtains when you blinked awake. yangyang was still out cold beside you, one arm draped heavy over your waist, hair sticking up in every possible direction. his lips were parted, breathing slow and even, his face so boyish in sleep. you smile, brushing a stray bang from his forehead. you lay there, soaking in the impossible reality that this was real now â your best friend. your boyfriend.
carefully, you slipped out from under his arm, pulling the blanket back over him when he shifted but didnât wake. one last glance, one last smile at his messy hair and you padded out of the room.
the kitchen was already buzzing when you joined. love was flipping pancakes while renjun brewed coffee. xiaojun and hendery were arguing over whether eggs needed more salt. ningning sat cross-legged on the counter, scrolling through her phone.
âmorning,â you greeted, slipping in to help set plates and pour juice like nothing monumental had happened last night.
âmorning,â came the chorus back, everyone too groggy and hungover to notice the spring in your step.
it wasnât until the smell of coffee filled the air and laughter started to break through the collective hangover fog that footsteps sounded down the hall. yangyang stumbled out, hair still wild, shirt hanging crooked. he rubbed at his eyes, yawning so wide it made ningning snort. and then he saw you â without hesitation, without even remembering himself, he crossed the room, slid behind you, and wrapped his arms around your waist. his chin hooked over your shoulder, his voice still thick with sleep as he mumbled, âwhyâd you leave me, teddy?â
before you could answer, he pressed a lazy kiss to your temple. then another to your cheek. and then, without any warning, like it was the most natural thing in the world, he turned your face toward his and kissed you full on the mouth.
the kitchen froze. you felt your stomach drop at the exact second the room exploded.
âFINALLY!!!â ningning practically shrieked, nearly dropping her phone she slammed it down dramatically, âi told you guys! i told you!â
âYES!,â xiaojun cheered, throwing his arms up in celebration, âhendery, you owe me fifty bucks.â
âwait, what?!â you and yangyang whirled on the two boys, âyou placed bets?!â yangyang asked, bewildered.
renjun smiled into his coffee, amused and smug, âcalled it,â he muttered, loud enough for yangyang to hear.
love was quieter than the rest â her pancakes cooked to perfection. she stared at the two of you for a beat, then let out a soft laugh that carried more relief than surprise, âi always knew there was⊠more,â she admitted, shaking her head. âguess i wasnât crazy after all,â she glanced at renjun, who returns her smile.
yangyang tightened his grip, looking around in surprise, âwhat? it wasn't that obvious??â
âit literally was!â you hissed, elbowing him in the ribs, which only made them laugh louder. the kitchen filling with overlapping voices, mock cheers, and clattering dishes.
đ§ž OCTOBER 12 - MONDAY - BUSY.
the evening settled lazy and quiet in your apartment, the glow of teen wolf flickering across the living room. you and yangyang were tangled up on the couch. the world outside didnât exist â it was just you, him, and the muffled sound of werewolves snarling on screen. everything was normal. yet everything felt different. every so often heâd murmur commentary, usually something dumb like, âi could totally fight that guy if i had clawsâ or âwhy is derek always brooding, like calm down dude.â youâd swat him half-heartedly, but your cheek would hurt from smiling.
your phone buzzed where it rested on the coffee table. yangyang, closest, picked it up without thinking â the way best friends always did. but his entire body went rigid when he saw the name.
shotaro. his eyes flicked to you, then back to the glowing screen. the message was simple, casual.
shotaro: u busy?
you felt your stomach dip. you both knew what that meant. a code for hooking up. you opened your mouth, to grab the phone, to explain, you werenât sure, but yangyang beat you to it. with a calmness that didnât match the sharp edge in his jaw, he typed back:
y/n: she is busy. this is yangyang. her boyfriend.
you blinked, âyangyangââ
âhe canât keep texting you this,â he said, trying to conceal the jealousy in his tone. your heart hammered in your chest, torn between exasperation and the giddy flutter of seeing him like this, finding it amusing.
âyouâre cute when youâre jealous,â you point out, a tiny smirk on your lips.
âiâm not jealous,â he retorts but the pout on his lips says otherwise.
you kissed it away quickly, making him chase your lips in the process before your giggle snaps his eyes open, âyang, you have nothing to worry about, mu heart is yours and yours only, everyone knows that,â you reassure him, a soft smile on your lips. before he could reply, your phone buzzed, shotaroâs message coming in.
shotaro: đđđđđ
shotaro: finally dude, took you long enough!
shotaro: congrats lovebirds âșïž
you couldnât help it â laughter burst out of you, bubbling until your cheeks hurt, âtold you so.â
he shot you a look, somewhere between sulking and pouting, and rolled his eyes hard enough you thought they might get stuck, âthis is embarrassing. youâre never letting me live this down, are you?â he muttered.
ânot a chance.â you grinned, tucking your face into his shoulder, still giggling. you glanced at him through your lashes, biting back a grin, âwell,â you murmured, voice lilting with a mix of tease and challenge, ânow that you told him iâm busy, you gotta actually keep me busy.â
yangyangâs smirk was immediate, lazy and smug as he shifted to face you fully, âis that your way of saying you want to have sex with me?â
your cheeks burned instantly, âgod, do you have to say it like that?â
yangyang leaned in until the space between you shrank, his hand curling gently around your thigh, âso⊠should i take that as a yes?â his voice dipped lower, teasing but not careless, like he wanted to hear it from you.
your heart gave a traitorous skip, and you rolled your eyes to cover it up, âjust kiss me, dummy.â his grin softened into something quieter, sweeter, and he obeyed without another word. the kiss started light â his lips just brushing yours, testing, as though reminding both of you that this wasnât like all the half-drunk makeouts of the past. he lingered there, pressing his mouth to yours until your hand came up on instinct to curl in his hoodie, pulling him closer. he tugged your shorts down with ease, hand sliding down your ass, cupping and squeezing like he couldnât help himself.
by the time you pulled back, your breathing was already uneven. âyangâŠâ
âride my face,â he murmured, tugging your panties off, the suggestion making you clench on instinct.
âwait, whatââ
he hushed you with another kiss, murmuring a âplease,â against your mouth before he pulled away. yangyang leaned back on the couch, hair already messy from your tugging fingers, lips pink and swollen from kissing.
âyangâare you sure?â
âcome here,â he said, voice low, guiding you until you were hovering above his head.
your palms flattened against the armrest for support, the position leaving you open, trembling. âyangyang, this isââ
âexactly what i want,â he cut in, his breath hot against you. his hands clamped onto your thighs, pulling you down until you were seated fully on his mouth. his nose brushed you, tongue working slow and firm, and you couldnât stop the sound that ripped from your throat.
âyangâoh, my godââ
he groaned at your taste, the vibrations shooting straight through you. his eyes fluttered shut, messy blond hair fanning out over the cushions, hips twitching helplessly.
âfuck, youâre soaked,â he mumbled against you, his voice muffled and wrecked, âtaste so sweetâyouâre gonna make me cum in my pants.â
the filthy admission sent heat ripping through you. your nails dug into the armrest, your hips grinding down carefully, whines of desperation slipping from your lips, each second feeling better and better.
âtake what you want teddy, câmon, donât be shy,â his grip tightened, holding you in place as he guided you to rock against him faster.
no longer able to control yourself, you chased the pleasure, faster and faster, eyes rolling back. the sound of your own wetness mixing with his low groans spurring you on even more. each time you ground down, he moaned like he was being fed something heâd craved for years. his chin and jaw were slick, shining with you, his tongue never faltering.
âfeels soââ your voice broke, your thighs trembling harder, âso good, yangyangââ
he pulled back just enough to gasp in a breath, voice hoarse and wrecked, âyeah? then ride my face, teddy. just like that. donât stop for me.â
the filthy words shattered the last bit of control you had. your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging hard, your thighs squeezing tighter around his head as you used him. his tongue met every desperate grind, licking broad and greedy, then flicking sharp and precise right where you needed him. you couldnât hold back the sounds tearing out of you â half-moan, half-whimper.
yangyangâs eyes were glazed over, pupils blown wide as he looked up at you from between your thighs, sweat-damp hair plastered to his forehead. his jaw flexed as he pushed his tongue deeper, then dragged it up, slow and heavy, sucking your clit into his mouth until your hips bucked.
âfucking love this,â he groaned into you, the words muffled but hot against your skin, âlove the way you use me.â he was so turned on, so wrecked from eating you out, that he was leaking through the fabric of his sweats without even touching himself.
you fisted his hair tighter, gasping, âyangyangâiâm gonnaââ
his tongue flicked rapid and merciless now, sucking at your clit with each drag, matching the frantic way your hips were moving. he growled low, the vibration shaking through you, and it was too much. your climax ripped through you, sharp and blinding, thighs clamping down around his head as you cried out, grinding hard against his face. he moaned into you like heâd just been given everything he ever wanted, holding you down, tongue working you through every wave until your body shuddered and went slack. you slumped against the armrest, chest heaving, sweat slick on your skin.
below you, yangyang looked utterly ruined â mouth and chin drenched with you, lips swollen, pupils blown. he licked one last lazy stripe up your folds before pressing a wet kiss to your inner thigh, his breathing as ragged as yours.
âprettiest sight iâve ever seen,â he murmured, voice hoarse, his cock straining visibly under the damp patch of his sweats, âyou falling apart on me like that.â
your thighs were still trembling when you finally shifted off his face, sinking down onto the couch beside him. yangyangâs chest was heaving, lips red and swollen, chin slick with you. he looked so dazed that for a second you forgot how to breathe â then you leaned in and kissed him, tasting yourself on his mouth.
when you settled against him, your eyes dropped lower â thatâs when you saw it. the front of his grey sweats was completely soaked through, darkened with a wet patch that left nothing to the imagination. he was painfully hard, twitching under the damp fabric, leaking without ever laying a hand on himself. you leaned in closer, lips brushing his jaw.
âthat turned you on that bad? just me riding your face?â your hand slipped down, palming him through the damp fabric in awe, feeling the heat and the twitch of his cock straining against the thin material.
he groaned, head dropping back against the couch, âteddyâdonâtââ
âdonât what?â you teased, giggling, palm pressing firmer against him, slow circles over the soaked outline, âthought you liked being used.â
his hips bucked up against your hand, giving him away, âyouâre evil,â he groaned, voice tight, eyes screwing shut, âmaking fun of me when iâve been leaking for you this whole time.â
you grinned, dragging your palm over him again, deliberate and slow, âyou leaking for me, huh? thatâs cute.â
âcute?â he cracked one eye open to glare at you, but his voice cracked halfway through.
you bit back a laugh, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth while your hand kept working him through the damp sweats. âyeah. cute. my bigâŠâ you squeezed his cock, making him whimper, ââneedy boyfriend canât even keep it together.â
his groan turned into a laugh, but he canât hind the blush creeping up his ears, breathless and wrecked, âyouâre gonna regret teasing me when iâm inside you.â
your teasing hand finally slipped past the waistband of his sweats â fingers wrapping around the hot, heavy length of him. you pumped him once, twice, slow but firm, and he shuddered under your touch, small whimpers slipping from his lips. the sheer weight of him in your hand, the way he throbbed against your palm, the noises he made, all made your stomach flip.
âgod, yangââ you breathed, squeezing him just enough to make his hips jerk. âyouâre so hard. already leaking everywhere for me.â
his breath hitched, hips bucking into your hand. his fingers clenched at your thigh like he was holding himself back, âteddyâstopââ
you tilted your head, pretending innocence, âstop?â
he pushed your hand away, chest rising and falling unevenly, âiâm notââ he groaned, frustrated with himself, âiâm not cumming in your hand. not tonight.â
you blinked, a little dazed, your hand still tingling from the heat of him, âthen whatââ
but before you could finish, he leaned forward, catching your mouth in a rough kiss, all tongue and teeth and pent-up hunger. his hands were already at your shirt, finally tugging it over your head, leaving you completely bare for him.
when you gasped against his mouth, he muttered against your lips, âif iâm gonna cum, itâs gonna be inside you.â your breath caught at the blunt honesty, your body arching into his touch as he pulled his own shirt off completely and pushed his sweats down. he guided you back onto the couch cushions, hovering over you with a look that made your pulse skip.
the kisses had deepened, slower but heavier, with his hands skimming up your sides like he was learning a new map. you shifted nervously against him, letting out a tiny laugh that broke the kiss.
âthis is still so weird,â you whispered, in between giggles and kisses.
yangyang laughed too, the sound vibrating through his chest where you pressed against him, tilting your chin back up so he could kiss the corner of your jaw, âitâs weird that it took us thirteen years.â
you gave him a playful glare, but your lips betrayed you by curving up into a smile, âand who set that system up?â
he laughed, kissing you again. he took his time with each inch of skin revealed, drawing tiny shivers out of you that you tried and failed to hide.
âstop smiling,â you muttered breathlessly as he pressed another kiss just below your jaw.
âcanât help it,â he said, voice muffled against your skin, âyouâre so beautiful, i should be allowed to gawk.â
âyouâre annoying.â
âyou love me.â
âi love you.â
he pulled you into another kiss, deeper this time, as he lined himself up against your entrance. when yangyang finally pressed into you, the air punched right out of your lungs. slow, steady, deliberate â like he was trying to memorize the exact moment you fit around him. your fingers dug into his shoulders, nails leaving tiny crescents in his skin as you gasped, âjesus, yangââ
he stilled immediately, eyes wide, chest heaving, âtoo much?â
you shook your head quickly, breathless laughter breaking out of you even as you squirmed around the thick, heavy stretch, âno â just⊠how are you this big?â
yangyang groaned, dropping his forehead onto your shoulder, âdonât say that right now.â
âwhy not?â you teased, threading your fingers through his messy hair, tugging just enough to make him lift his head again.
âbecauseââ he grit out, rolling his hips an inch deeper just to prove a point, ââif you keep saying that, iâm gonna embarrass myself and cum before i even get started.â
you burst into a giggle, though the way your body fluttered around him betrayed just how much the words got to you, âoh my god, are you seriously admitting that?â
he scowled at you, but the corners of his mouth twitched upward, âweâve been best friends for thirteen years. i donât get to lie anymore.â
âyou never could lie,â you shot back, kissing his jaw in between your laughs, âyou get this stupid vein in your foreheadââ
âstopââ he groaned again, cutting you off with a kiss, sloppy and urgent, like he had to shut you up before you completely ruined him.
but you were still grinning into it, tugging him closer, whispering against his lips, âbiggest iâve ever had, by the way.â
he made a strangled noise, hips jerking forward before he forced himself to stop, âokay â no. if you donât want this to end in sixty seconds, shut up.â
you smirked wickedly, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist, âfine. but only because i want to enjoy it.â his eyes darkened, his jaw tightening as he pushed in the rest of the way, every inch making you gasp and cling to him harder. the stretch burned, but it was the good kindâthe kind that had your toes curling and your chest arching up against his.
yangyang groaned, forehead pressed to yours, his breath shaky, âgod, you feel⊠so fucking good.â
âyeah?â you whispered, brushing your lips against his, your grin still lingering despite how wrecked you already felt.
âyeah,â he rasped, kissing you again, slower this time, his hips finally beginning to move. you clung tighter, every roll dragging a breathy sound from your throat you couldnât bite back.
you clenched around him and he broke the kiss with a shaky laugh, brushing his thumb over your cheek, âyouâre seriously trying to kill me, huh?â
you managed a grin between gasps, âpretty sure youâre the one doing the damage.â
ânot my fault youâreâŠâ he trailed off with a groan as your nails raked lightly down his back, ââŠtight as hell.â
you giggled, half-wrecked already. ânot my fault you fill me up so well.â
his head dropped to your shoulder again, muffling a desperate laugh-groan into your skin, âshut up,â he whined, voice cracking adorably. but the way his hips snapped a little deeper, a little harder, told you he liked itâliked your teasing, liked the way you couldnât keep quiet with him inside you.
when you hooked your ankles at his lower back to drag him closer, he hissed and shifted, suddenly lifting one of your legs up, then the other, until both were resting against his shoulders. the new angle made you gasp so sharply it turned into a moan, ây-yangâholy shitââ
he froze, smirking down at you even as sweat dripped at his temple, âthat good?â
you shot him a dazed glare, though your hips rolled up to meet his without thought, âdonât⊠act smugââ
he pushed in deep, bottoming out so hard you saw stars. your words broke off into a strangled cry, and yangyang groaned low, burying his face in your neck, âfuckâyouâre squeezing me.â
âi canât help it,â you gasped, grabbing at the back of his neck, pulling him up for another messy kiss, âyouâreâgodâyouâre soââ
âdonât say it,â he cut in quickly, panting against your mouth, âdonât say it or iâm done for.â you bit back your laugh, kissing him harder just to swallow the desperate sound you made when he hit that spot again. the pace stayed slow but deep, each thrust driving impossibly far with your legs curled over his shoulders. his hands gripped your thighs tight, fingers flexing like he needed to hold on or heâd lose it.
you moaned his name, breathless, tugging at his hair, âyangyangââ
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his face twisted in concentration, lips red and swollen, âyeah, teddy?â
âi love you,â you whispered, voice breaking, laughter tangled up with need.
he kissed you again, deeper this time, whispering against your lips, âi love you, too.â
his rhythm stayed deep and unhurried, every thrust dragging a sharp cry from you that melted into laughter, into gasps, into his name spilling again and again. then his hand slipped between the two of you, thumb rubbing harsh, precise circles on your clit, pushing you over the edge. your nails scratched at his back, tugged at his hair, every nerve in your body sparking, ây-yang⊠iâm gonnaâ,â
âi know, teddy, i know,â he murmured, voice breaking as he kissed your cheek, your mouth, the corner of your jaw, âcome all over me, please.â
that was all it took. your body clenched tight around him, and the climax crashed through you, head tipping back against the couch cushion as you moaned his name. he kissed you through it, swallowing every sound, hips stuttering at the way you squeezed around him dragging him to his own climax, âfuckâgripping me so tightâiâm gonna come.â
your body was still fluttering around him when you gasped out, broken and breathless, âinsideâplease, yang, i want it insideââ
for a moment, he froze, eyes going wide like youâd just asked him to set the world on fire, âareââ his voice cracked, hips faltering, âare you sure?â
you tugged him down, kissing him hard, desperate, your voice wrecked against his lips, âpleaseâplease, yang,â you whined.
something in him snapped at that. his groan was raw, guttural, as he buried himself to the hilt, grinding deep enough to steal your breath. his forehead pressed against yours, sweat dripping at his temple as he muttered, âfuckâgonna cumâinside you, teddyâ,â
your nails dug into his back, pulling him closer, âdo it, yang. want itâwant you.â
he bit back a curse, thrusts turning frantic but still deep, controlled. his hands held your thighs so tight theyâd bruise, his voice low and breaking, âmineâfuckâyouâre mine.â you whimpered his name, clinging to him as his rhythm broke apart. then with a strangled groan, he slammed in one last time and spilled into you, hot and endless, the force of it pulling a sob out of his throat.
the aftershocks tore through both of you, your body clutching around him, milking every drop. his chest collapsed against yours, lips brushing over your temple, your cheek, your mouth, like he couldnât stop. when yangyang finally pulled out, his breath hitched, chest rising and falling fast as he watched his release spilling out of you, shining down your skin in little streaks.
âfuckâŠâ he groaned, voice dropping rough and reverent, âthatâs so hotâŠlook at you, teddy, canât even hold me in.â you whined, trying to close your legs, but he pressed them apart again, eyes dark and fixated. he dragged two fingers through the mess, slow and deliberate, and brought it up between you.
âsuck.â his tone was low but coaxing, like he already knew youâd obey. your lips parted, and he slipped his finger past them, watching intently as you closed around him, sucking the mix of both of you clean. his jaw clenched, hips twitching like he could feel it himself.
âgodââ he rasped, barely holding back a shudder, âyou drive me crazy.â you hummed around his finger, eyes locking with his as you licked him clean, letting the lewd wet sound fill the room. he cursed again, pulling his hand free only to grip your jaw and kiss you deep, messy, desperate, like he needed to taste it on your tongue too.
âsoâŠâ yangyang murmured, grin tugging at his lips. âthink thatâs busy enough, or should we get busier?â
you smacked his chest weakly, too boneless to put any force behind it, âyouâre ridiculous.â
âridiculous,â he echoed, pretending to think. he kissed your nose, playful and soft, ânah. just making up for lost time.â
đ§ž OCTOBER 16 - FRIDAY - CRISIS AVERTED.
yangyang let himself in like always, already calling out a lazy, âteddy, iâm here. did you eat yet? i broughtââ
then he froze. the sound hit him before anything else â muffled crying, sharp enough to shoot panic through his chest. he tossed the pizza box on the counter with a thud as his pulse kicked up, ây/n!?â he called, voice already breaking with fear. he sprinted towards your bedroom, every worst-case scenario clawing at his brain, you hurt, you sick, youâ but when he burst into your room, what he found was you, sitting on the floor, tear-streaked cheeks, clutching something in your lap.
âshitâhey, hey,â he rushed to you immediately, dropping to his knees, âwhat happened? are you hurt? talk to me.â
you turned toward him, lower lip wobbling, and in your hands⊠mr. bear. his worn out brown fur and now â his leg dangling, the seam ripped wide.
âiâi was cleaning my bed,â you hiccuped, voice breaking, âand i mustâve pulled too hard or something andâhe justâyangyang, i broke him.â
yangyang blinked. his panic collided with relief so hard he had to sit back on his heels. his heart was still racing, but now he could finally see the whole picture â not a tragedy, but the most you kind of meltdown. and he knew exactly the reason. the promise attached to that bear â the one youâd made all those years ago â it all suddenly made sense of why you were crying so hard.
âoh, teddyâŠâ his voice softened immediately as he reached out, brushing your wet cheeks with his thumbs, âyou scared the hell out of me. i thoughtââ he stopped himself, swallowing down the lump in his throat, and nodded toward the bear, âheâs just a little injured. not gone. okay?â
your hands shook as you held the bear up between you, like proof of your failure, âbut my promise⊠i said as long as mr. bearâs okay, weâre okay. and now heâs hurt.â
yangyangâs chest tightened, but not with fear this time. with something achingly tender. he took the bear gently from your hands, setting him carefully on the bed like he was still sacred, then cupped your face, âlisten to me,â he said firmly, eyes locking on yours. âmr. bear can lose both legs, his stuffing, his headâand weâll still be okay. iâll still be yours. that promise was real, but it wasnât about a toy. it was about you and me. got it?â
your sniffle cracked into a laugh-sob, shaky and small, âyou sound so sure.â
âbecause youâre crying over a bear, teddy,â he wiped under your eyes again, softer this time, âand because i love you, and iâm never letting some third-grade bear decide that for us.â
you shoved at his chest weakly, embarrassed now, âdonât make fun of me.â
he caught your wrist, grinning, and leaned in to press his forehead to yours, âonly sometimes,â he grinned, âbut also? youâre lucky iâm amazing with a needle. mr. bearâs about to get the glow-up of his life.â your laugh finally came out properly then, tears still spilling on your cheeks. yangyang felt the knot in his chest finally loosen. he kissed your damp cheek once, then held you against him, rocking you gently on the floor.
âsee?â he murmured into your hair, âcrisis averted. weâre still best friends. still together. foreverâs intact.â
đ§ž OCTOBER 18 - SUNDAY - STUCK WITH ME.
two days later, mr. bear was back to his rightful throne at the top of your bed, one leg stitched up neatly with even and earnest thread. yangyang had insisted on doing it himself, tongue poking out in concentration while you teased him for looking like a âmad scientist surgeon.â
now, the two of you were in your kitchen â the apartment smelled like garlic and soy sauce, the pan sizzling as you stirred noodles with a little too much force. yangyang was leaning against the counter beside you, pretending to help but mostly just sneaking bites of the vegetables youâd chopped earlier.
âyang, if you eat one more carrot stick, iâm cutting your fingers off,â you warned, swatting at his hand with the wooden spoon.
he grinned, chomping it anyway, âiâd like to see you try.â
you rolled your eyes, fighting a smile. he always had that smug look when he knew he was getting away with something. but then, instead of reaching for another bite, he slipped a hand into his pocket, âactually⊠iâve got something for you.â
you glanced at him suspiciously, stirring slower, âwhat?â
he pulled out a tiny box, holding it out like it was nothing, though his ears were already turning pink, âhere.â
your brow furrowed, âyangyang⊠if this is a prank and a cockroach jumps outââ
âitâs not a prank!â he laughed, shoving it gently against your chest until you took it, âjust open it, teddy.â
you wiped your hand on a towel and popped the lid open. your breath caught. inside sat a delicate gold chain with a tiny gold teddy bear charm dangling from it.
âoh my godâŠâ you whispered, smiling instantly.
yangyang rubbed the back of his neck, eyes darting away like he was suddenly fascinated by the ceiling, âyou, uh⊠freaked out pretty bad when mr. bear almost lost his leg the other day. so i figured⊠this way youâve got one you canât break.â
you turned to face him fully, holding the necklace between your fingers like it was made of glass, âyang, i love it, iââ
âturn around,â he cut in quickly, a little shy. you turned around, holding your hair to the side. his fingers brushed against your nape as he clasped the necklace, lingering there like he couldnât let go. when he was done, he didnât pull back. instead, he bent to press a kiss against your neck. then another. and another.
âyangyangââ your voice cracked on his name, heat rising in your cheeks. he rested his chin on your shoulder, eyes catching the charm against your collarbone.
âperfect,â he murmured, voice low and sure.
you laughed softly, leaning back into him, âyou know this is kinda unfair, right? you keep one-upping yourself.â
âthatâs the point,â he hummed against your skin, lips curving into a smile as he trailed lower toward your shoulder, âiâve got thirteen years to make up for,â he murmured, kissing your shoulder softer this time, like a promise.
your smiles, âthatâs⊠a long time.â
âgood,â he said easily, mouth brushing the edge of your jaw now, âmeans youâre stuck with me for a while.â you laughed, turning to swat at his chest but only managing to catch his hoodie. he kissed you properly this time, slow and sweet, before leaning back just enough to steal another carrot stick with his free hand.
âthere he is,â you muttered, rolling your eyes. âthe real yangyang.â
âmhm,â he said around the bite, grinning. âstill the one you fell for though.â
you rolled your eyes, necklace glinting in the kitchen light as you stirred the noodles again. yangyang didnât even pretend to help after that. he just hovered, brushing past you every chance he got, sneaking more vegetables, dropping lazy kisses on your neck or shoulder until you smacked at him with the spoon. by the time dinner was plated, you were laughing too hard to stay annoyed. you both ate slowly, the easy chatter filling the quiet of the apartment. he told you about the new song stuck in his head, you complained about an assignment your professor gave, he teased you about how messy you were with noodles.
it was the same rhythm youâd always had â best friends, trading jokes and stories, no one but him. no one but you â except now there was something new threading between it all. a warmth. a weight. his foot brushing yours under the table. his smile lingering longer than it used to. his lips wandering in between stories, a kiss to your temple, a peck on your cheek when you smiled, a soft press to your knuckles as if reminding you, over and over, that he was yours now.
ᄫᥠthe end.
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18+ only | watch at your own risk | contains mature content
yangyang x teddy coded links: #1. #2. #3. #4. #5. #6. #7. #8. #9. #10. #11.
â
an: and the first of the wayv trio is done!!!! this was kinda tough you guys, i didnât want to do another fake dating trope so i really had to think about how i wanted yangyang to realize heâs in love with teddy. i hope you liked the nickname!!! i think itâs so cute. i gotta delete the teddy bear emoji for haechan and princess because that belongs to yangyang and teddy now lmfao. also how are we feeling with the yangyang and renjun reconciliation? and love always kinda knowing??? hehe i never planned this but im declaring its canon now that it took her so long to say yes to yangyang because of teddy đ
last thing: im sorry to say this but the wayv boys will not be getting bonus scenes >.< im lowkey already struggling with the dream ones lol. BUT i hope you enjoyed this!!! and i hope you like the links ;););) #5 is my favorite hehe. as always, thank you so so much for reading!
ᄫᥠlikes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated.
ᄫᥠif you enjoy this series and would like to show extra love and support. my ko-fi is open <3
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