#yonghoon x reader

Yet you know that while that might be so, it’s only in the best way. That you’re safe and living a wonderful reality. All it takes is one sneaky look at Yonghoon bouncing on the spot after you gave him a taste of his own medicine to know he’s in deep. A simple you steal my heart more every day and your boyfriend turns into an excited puppy. The resemblance is uncanny as he turns all around to spot you and when he does, he makes a beeline towards you to envelop you in the most bone-crushing hug yet.

“I love you,” he breathes into your ear. You feel the smile on his lips as they brush against your skin. You sacrifice the last bit of air in your lungs to return the confession.

“I won’t lose to you,” he warns you right after - finally giving you enough space to breathe in.

“I don’t-” you’re promptly shut up with a kiss. All this just because of a silly note. Just one. Butterflies swarm in your stomach as you think about all the happy memories you could make returning his gesture in the same way he does it. No - bigger, better. You will beat him at his own game. A decision is made.

Well, you’ll get to it once you’re not breathless. Once you can focus on more than Yonghoon’s hand in your hair, the other on your waist. His lips finally part with yours, only to come back for one more kiss. 

“I really love you,” he whispers. He stays so close you could get lost in his eyes. 

“And I really really really love you too,” you don’t hesitate, “But I want you to know that if we’re turning this into a competition, I’ll definitely win.”

He grins, dangerous and wolfish, while he leans closer and cups your face. He doesn’t even need to kiss you to take your breath away, the anticipation is enough.

“You’re on,” he says before leaving a quick peck on your nose and running off. You almost forgot he had places to be. 

You watch him throw his bag over his shoulder and carefully maneuver the guitar case through the door and slip your hands into your pockets. The pockets that should be empty. The pockets, one of which is not. You laugh in disbelief.

You’ll always be mine. I hope you’re prepared to spend the rest of your life with me. 

Honestly, you’re not sure. Because this really is too good to be true. Because maybe he deserves better.

it was a gloomy day for you, your roommate had moved out the week before and you were lonely, you were thinking about adopting a hybrid, although you had yet to find a hybrid that liked you. a close friend of yours had invited you to a ‘hybrid party,’ you highly doubted that it was actually a party. or that it was legal, this friend had a tendency to like illegal things.

but at this point what choice did you have? you had gone to the shelter every week for the past month, not once had you found a hybrid that worked with you yet. you weren’t hopeful that the perfect hybrid would be waiting for you tonight. getting ready was slow and quiet, hope was slim. you had already decided that there would be no hybrid for you, no friend to keep you company.

your friend drove you to the ‘party’ but didn’t stay with you, they had somewhere else to be tonight. the warehouse you found yourself in front of was run down and unassuming. inside however hundreds of people were packed together, music thumped and people chattered excitedly in small groups. you pushed through the crowd to stand right at the front.

in the centre of the room, a large ring with floor to ceiling chains were secured to the blocks that made the ring. you weren’t sure if the chains were meant to keep onlookers out, or something in. a moment later two cages were pulled into the middle of the ring. your heart dropped. this definitely was not a party, it was a hybrid fight ring.

there was a reason hybrid fight rings are illegal, they’re vicious and violent. hybrids are treated horribly, and are forced to fight. you felt sick to your stomach, you wanted to leave immediately but something about the eyes of the hybrid staring at you from one of the cages rooted you to your spot. the doors of the cages opened and both hybrids shot out, one a mangy looking dog hybrid and the other a beautiful, glossy german shepherd hybrid.

the shepherd hybrid was the one that was staring at you, he was beautiful. he was running from the other hybrid, it was like he didn’t want to fight. they ran in circles around the ring for a few minutes before the other dog lunged and caught the german shepherd’s leg. he yelped and fell. after that you could barely watch.

the mangy dog hybrid won, and the german shepherd was left whimpering in the ring. you couldn’t leave him there, you navigated through the crowd once again to the security guards by the gate into the ring. “how much to buy the german shepherd hybrid?” you asked, the guard raised his eyebrows “you can have him, he has no use to us now.” he opened the gate and gestured to some men to bring the whimpering hybrid out. you sighed at the state of the poor pup, his body was shuddering every time he took a breath in and blood oozed from his wounds.

The sunlight streamed in through the large glass windows of the store. The AC blew a light breeze through the main room, and you allowed yourself to deeply inhale the soft floral scents of the flower shop.

You always believed that getting a job here was the most wonderful thing that had ever happened to you. It was so rare for people to find jobs that they truly loved, especially on the first try, but it seemed like you had been one of the lucky ones. 

The day was fairly slow, as most of the weekdays were. A few people came in looking for bouquets for special anniversaries, or to ask about ordering a few arrangements for parties, but other than that you had been left alone to enjoy the ambience of the store and read a little bit of the book you always kept behind the counter.

You had only gotten a few pages through when the bell above the door chimed. Placing your bookmark softly into the book, you placed it on the counter and stood up to greet the customer.

“Welcome to Start of Spring, what can I help you with today?” you asked, moving to get a better view of the man that had just walked in. He was tall, with brown hair and brown eyes. He had his hands tucked into a tan overcoat, a white turtleneck peeking out from underneath it as he strolled into the shop. He was incredibly handsome and you could feel your cheeks heat up a bit as you watched him.

He turned to you and beamed. You had to shake yourself out of it, reminding yourself that you could not fall for a man that you had literally just met. He removed one of his hands to wave at you politely as you made your way closer to him.

“Hi! I need a bouquet of flowers, but I have absolutely no idea what kind to get. Do you think you could help me out?” he asked. You nodded happily, a smile slipping onto your face. You loved when customers didn’t have a specific flower arrangement in mind. It meant that you could take the reins and make something beautiful from scratch, just the way you preferred to do it. 

“Sure! Usually I recommend making a bouquet of flowers that represent the occasion or what feeling you want to convey,” you explained, looking up at the stranger. You saw his eyebrows furrow a bit in confusion, and couldn’t help but giggle at how his nose scrunched as the gears in his brain turned.

“Flowers are a language. Each flower has a meaning, and even different flower colors can mean different things. It’s an amazing way to tell someone something when you can’t find the words to say it aloud,” you said, before pointing to the large bucket full of tulips that you were in front of.

“Tulips represent love, warmth, and comfort, so we usually include them in bouquets for anniversaries or weddings. Hibiscuses,” you pointed to the vibrant red flowers beside the tulips, “symbolize delicate beauty, so we include those in bouquets for dates, and even bouquets for certain family members.”

The stranger nodded, his lips parted in slight awe. He couldn’t help but observe you as you rambled on about the language of flowers, your eyes sparkling. Finally, you turned to look back up at him with a wide smile on your face. 

“So tell me, what kind of message do you want to convey….?” You trailed off as you realized you’d never gotten the name of the customer that was in front of you.

“Yonghoon. My name is Yonghoon,” He finally spoke up, a shy smile slipping onto his lips. You smiled and nodded.

“What message do you want to convey, Yonghoon?”

“Well, these are flowers for some friends of mine. They have been working really hard lately with our new project, and I want to give them something to show how thankful I am. Our apartment is pretty dull, so I thought some flowers would be a good idea,” Yonghoon explained. 

You nodded, taking in the information, before moving towards the counter to pull out a notepad. “Well, yellow roses often symbolize friendship, so I think those would be an obvious choice. Irises are seen as a symbol of admiration, and they’ll compliment the yellow of the roses quite nicely. And then I think some pink tulips would also fit well with the yellow and the white of the irises,” you said, jotting some things down on the paper.

“I thought you said tulips represent love?” Yonghoon said, which caused you to laugh.

“I did, but I also said different colors can mean different things. Red tulips mostly mean love, but pink tulips represent happiness,” you explained, before handing him the list you had written with the flowers and their meaning. 

“Does this look good? Or would you like me to add anything?” Yonghoon’s eyes darted across your neat handwriting, before looking up with a smile.

“This looks perfect. You really know your flowers,” he joked. You chuckled, before moving to collect the flowers you’d need for the bouquet. 

“I’d hope so. I’ve only worked here for 2 years.” Yonghoon laughed at your quip, his eyes following as you darted across the shop, plucking flowers carefully from their buckets and gathering them delicately in one hand. 

Finally you walked back over towards him, tying the flowers together with a piece of string and wrapping them elegantly in brightly colored tissue paper.

“There, all finished,” you said, holding the masterpiece out to Yonghoon. He smiled at it, gently grabbing it with one hand. As he did, your fingers brushed and you felt yourself flinch slightly at the feeling of electricity that ran down your spine. Despite this, you forced yourself to ignore the now pounding heart in your chest in favor of grabbing the credit card Yonghoon was holding out to you.

“Thank you…?”

“Y/N,” you responded as you handed him his card back. He smiled softly as he slipped the plastic back into his pocket.

“A beautiful name. Thank you, Y/N,” he said, giving you one last nod before exiting out the door. You plopped back down into the chair as you reached for your book, letting out a deep breath you didn’t know you were holding. You shook your head, blaming your flustered state on the heat because, even though you knew the A/C was on, you didn’t want to admit the real reason for your burning cheeks.

Much to your surprise, Yonghoon continued to come in every week with a new reason to buy flowers. Each visit got longer and longer, with him asking millions of questions on different flowers to the point where you almost couldn’t answer them. However, as much as you did not want to admit it, you didn’t mind the visits he made. He was incredibly easy to talk to, his smile made your heart melt in your chest, and he seemed genuinely interested in everything that you said. Week after week, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper for Yonghoon, and every week you became a little less opposed to the idea of his visits.

Meanwhile, Yonghoon was enjoying every visit that he made to your store. His bandmates, however, could not say the same. Their dorms had been turned into a small flower shop of their own and, while it was pretty, it was not very functional.

“Yonghoon, I can’t even find a spot to put my coffee cup down on the table!” Kanghyun whined as he plopped down onto the couch next to his leader. The other boys nodded their heads in agreement, making mentions of the countless other things that Yonghoons flowers stopped them from doing. Yonghoon pouted as he slumped into his seat, arms crossed.

“But I have no other reason to go see them but to get flowers! I’m sorry that love comes at such a beautiful price,” Yonghoon huffed dramatically. Dongmyeong rolled his eyes as he sat up, crossing his legs.

“Why don’t you just tell them how you feel?” “Are you crazy? What if they say no?”

“They won’t. I’m sure they’re just as enamored with you as you are them. Come on, you can even do it in an extremely dramatic and romantic way, since that’s what you like best,” Harin argued, earning a punch in the shoulder from Yonghoon, who sighed soon after.

“Fine. But if this goes wrong, I’m never getting rid of these flowers.”

2 months after his first visit, Yonghoon walked into the flower shop already greeting you as you sat behind the counter reading as you usually did. You looked and grinned at him, the grin that made Yonghoon’s own heart flutter, before closing your book and standing up.

“Why welcome back. What can I do for you today, Yonghoon?” you asked, pulling out your pen and notepad to write down the flowers that he would need. He smiled as he leaned against the counter and smirked.

“I need a bouquet to confess to someone. I want it to be incredibly romantic, the whole 9 yards, you know?” Yonghoon said. You froze as you heard the words slip out of your mouth. A bouquet to confess to someone should not have made your heart sink the way that it did, but the thought of him romancing another person with the flowers you recommended made you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

“I… I see. Well, why don’t you tell me about them so I can recommend you a bouquet,” you asked, trying to settle your shaky voice. If Yonghoon noticed, he didn’t say anything as he continued to smile.

“Well, they’re extremely pretty and super smart. They are kind and generous, and always know how to make me laugh. I always feel warm when I’m with them, like I just drank the best hot chocolate, and they’re the perfect combination of tough and delicate,” he rambled, listing off thing after thing. Each note that you wrote down about this mystery person had your heart aching. This person sounded perfect, and you were happy for Yonghoon, but you couldn’t help but pity yourself at the fact that he was not buying these flowers for you.

“Well I think red roses are a must… and probably some peonies as well for beauty. We could add some carnations as well, if you’d like?” you asked, trying not to look at Yonghoon. You heard him hum in thought for a moment, before shifting his weight a little bit.

“I think some red tulips and maybe some hibiscuses would be nice,” Yonghoon said. You nodded quickly, writing them down, before handing the list to him with trembling fingers. His eyes scanned it like the first time he had come into the shop, before he beamed and nodded.

“Perfect!” You swallowed harshly, before moving to gather the flowers. You moved slowly, trying to stop the tears that threatened to prick your eyes with each flower that you picked up and held in your grasp.

Finally you had a bouquet of the most beautiful flowers, wrapping them gently and making them look as elegant as you could. After all, even if they were another person, you wanted Yonghoon to like them as much as you liked him.

“Here. I’m sure they’ll love them,” you said, plastering a small smile on your face in an attempt to not look as destroyed as you were feeling on the inside. Yonghoon chuckled lightly and nodded, smiling softly as he looked at the flowers.

“They’ll love them.” The credit card was exchanged, and then you both just stood there, neither of you speaking. You wished Yonghoon would just leave so you could cry in peace, but he fidgeted with the tissue paper around the flowers, his feet seemingly glued to the spot across the counter.

“It’s much harder to do this than I thought,” Yonghoon chuckled out. You looked at him in confusion, trying to figure out what he meant. It was only when you finally looked at his face, making eye contact with him, that he let a warm smile melt across his face, his hands moving to hold the flowers out.

“Is there something wrong with them?” you asked, reaching to take them and inspecting them to try and find the issues. Yonghoon chuckled, running a hand through his silky brown hair, before shaking his head.

“No, they are for you.” You felt like the world had just stopped around you. Your hands froze and you stared at him, mouth parted in surprise. These were for you? But he had said he wanted to use them to confess, and had even described the person to you!

“You were the person that I was describing, and I do want to confess. I want to confess to you,” Yonghoon replied, and you flushed as you realized that your thoughts had been spoken aloud. You held the flowers carefully to your chest, before looking up at him with eyes full of happiness.

“You idiot. You scared me, I thought you were buying these for another person!” you said, reaching out to hit his shoulder playfully. Yonghoon’s expression dropped as he realized his mistake and he sighed, before letting out a weak chuckle.

“Guess I’m not great at this confessing thing.”

“No… you’re wonderful at it. Seriously this is the cutest thing anyone has ever done for me. You used the thing that I love the most to tell me that you like me, and that overshadows any stupid assumptions I may have made,” you said. His expression lit up at your words and he smiled at you brightly.

“Does that mean I have permission to take you on a date?” He asked hopefully. You pretended to think, before nodding eagerly, giggling as you did so.

“It does, but next time buy me flowers from a different flower shop. I want to be surprised.” Yonghoon nodded happily, before he made his way behind the counter to give you a hug.

But some nights fell silent, his apartment seemingly abandoned and leaving you alone to your own thoughts. What does he do? Is this his career? Is he in a band? With such a brilliant voice, it was too straightforward to consider the man an official performer. He could be anyone with this as his hobby, but your mind still wanted to imagine him giving these same feelings and chills to an entire crowd and not just you a floor down in your own living space.

Gut feelings, they’re seamless. Unquestionable, your instincts will always know better than your mind or heart; but you still listen to the trio in its entirety. Your mind creates scenarios you wish to play out, your heart beats harder from the imaginary feelings and reimbursing reality, but your gut always knows where you lead you that’s best.

Dark pavement beneath your shoes and a walk at a later hour than usual, it turned into what you had waited for. A small club being smoothed over by his voice, the band at his back giving each other smiles and laughs, and every single person in the crowd shivering with that same giddy emotion.

Yonghoon, the man now with a face on his body and his name on the chalkboard, had been performing for two hours before his eyes surfed over the packed club to find you. Weaseling your way past the man at the door just to peer inside and match with his dark brown eyes. You finally had the chance to see his smile light up the entire building and your heart all at once. Like when you make eye contact with an animal a long ways away and they deem you as not being a threat, keep moving along in their world—you felt comfort from seeing him in his own space.

His eyes shined like light hitting a raven’s feathers, glazed over with tears from the blazing lights over his head. Lips forming words, his voice was louder in your ears than anyone else’s. The use of the microphone at his mouth was almost unnecessary from his blaring pipes, each note capturing your feet in place like wet cement was at your ankles.

It was only when a hefty arm caught your shoulder and twisted around that you remembered you were a person in a body standing in the middle of the opening of the club. “In or out, please.” The guard at the door seemed tired of having to peel people away from the performance, but he only shook his head once at your appalled state.

But your tongue moved faster, eyes blinking in tandem with the thumping bass shaking the floor. “Out.” Every muscle contracting and releasing to pull you from the club, the oxygen around you only slipped back into your lungs as the familiar feeling of your apartment surrounded you.

“What are the odds?” You whispered to yourself, an estranged feeling now in your gut. You finally witnessed the man in his own world, not in the comfort of his home where he could belt out any note without feeling watched, and yet he still sang beautifully. As if the world turned for him like a record on a needle, he had everything in the palm of his hand.

And once again, midnight creeped around the corner. His voice painted a picture above, body cradled on the windowsill staring up at the stars. Completely undisturbed, your voice caught him first.

“Nice to know I’m not the only one listening to this every night.” The honking of horns and chatter of people still on the streets below didn’t cover your voice like you thought it would, Yonghoon standing from his sitting position to peer around.

“You saw me tonight?” His brows were furrowed, but he still wore a smile on his face.

“Only for a little bit of time, but it was enough.”

“Why didn’t you stick around?” Intrigued, he dipped himself back down onto the windowsill and ignored the cold wind of the nightly air brushing against his face.

“Call me selfish, but I prefer hearing you when we’re all alone.” You laughed at yourself silently, the same out-of-body feeling in your chest as when you saw him performing earlier that night. It doesn’t seem to let up around him at all, in fact. “I can hear you clear as day when it’s just the two of us.”

“And yet, it is ironically past midnight.”

“I don’t sleep well these days.” Your sentence was nearly halted by his overlapping sound, a defiant sight creating a delightfully understanding word.

“Ahh—” he chuckled. “A fellow insomniac.”

“That would be the term, yes.” You laughed back, but knew the two of you bonding was already a step above whatever scenario you could have ever created in your own head. Just like all humans, the imaginary person you dream and conceive when you’re away from a person you enjoy is only a concept of them. But Yonghoon was filling in his own shoes, and riddling you astounded.

“So, my new friend—” All surroundings flourished so loud you could hardly make out his voice, but even you knew what he was asking. “—what song would you like to hear next?”

two.

One song turned into two, and two turned into three. Like getting a mixtape of your favorite songs sang by your favorite vocalist, you were in your own form of heaven. Nothing in the world could touch you, not even the things that scare you most. No stress, no worries, all of it covered by Yonghoon’s voice until the sky broke with purple and blue and the sun fought to rise.

“Already dawn.” He smiled, the cracks of the fire escape helping you see his cheeks rise and head shake. “I kept you up all night.”

“I would have been awake anyways. You just gave me company and music all at once.” You hated admitting it, but having him singing for you, directly to you, made each night that you listened to him in silence feel like they were a dream, themselves. As if you hadn’t actually been here, only a cloud in the sky listening to the humans below.

“I don’t suppose you’d still like to stick with me?” He asked, peering down to find your eyes through the same cracks that you gazed up at. His smile was sideways, hair greasy from the humidity of the morning, and clothes from the same stage he had been on that night.

“Depends on if you go shower first.” His laugh is better than his vocals, that’s for sure.

“Same for you?” He questioned through his own cackle. “I’ll come down in forty-five minutes and we’ll go get coffee, yeah?”

“It’s a date.”

And a date, as seen by movies and media, is always chalked up to so many things at once they can make someone dizzy. Walking hand-in-hand or side-by-side, staring at their lips as they talk, someone paying for the entire meal instead of just one, and the oh-so-classic kiss at their front door before parting.

But Yonghoon, swooning and bright-smiled, catered to it all so peacefully. Capturing your hand as you walked together down the sidewalk to the café on the corner, paying for your drink and breakfast, eyeing your mouth as you talked and told him all you could say in a short amount of time that wouldn’t leave him thinking you’re weird for speaking so much, watching you listen attentively to his own words and stories in the mix of yours, and the best part—the kiss.

“I’ve never spent so much time with a stranger.” Admittedly, you laughed along with him in the hopes he’d understand that you hadn’t, either. “But this was thrilling.”

His eyes admired your face with the same glistening twinkle in them as when he performs, palm now against the frame of your door. He was like an embodiment of the word charming, your eyes blinking at him like he’d fade away in a mirage.

“So,” his smile, so cherishing and warm. “What’s next?”

“What does your day consist of? Considering I’ve already taken over an entire night and morning, I’ll admit I'm not ready to part just yet.”

It was the word ‘part’ that brought his pearled teeth to shine between his lips, his back to lean him forward, his face to turn opposite of yours to find your mouth in a deep kiss. Like he was sucking the air from you, you pulled back in an abrupt way that made even him laugh.

“Another try?” You asked, eyes squinting from embarrassment before they relaxed. He didn’t miss a beat, pressing his lips to yours for a second kiss.

Small movement, softness, and a flutter of your heart. The man you had listened to sing into the night’s air, faceless and nameless, had swept you off your feet with his voice and made you find solace so simply. Yonghoon, an obvious enjoyer of life and your shaking limbs in his hold as you both smiled into the kiss, had become someone important to your little world.

“What is the extreme measure here?” You asked with a heaving voice, his eyebrow cocking in wonder.

“Such as me coming into your apartment with you after only knowing you for a little over ten hours now?”

Your smile made him nod, voice small from his warm glare. “Such as exactly that.”

“Why wonder what could be if you can act on it?”

Standing outside of your own apartment with shivers running up your spine from his words, he truly did make you think. You could have said nothing last night, listened to him contently like you did every night he was home—and yet you spoke up. You could have made the conversation small, let it wither away—but you let it continue on. It was a common factor - letting your control slip from your grasp - that gave you the confidence to befriend the stranger in the first place. So why not take control now and play this out for what it is?

“Come right in, then.”

three.

Nightfall, hours of spilling life to one another, and Yonghoon with his chin in his palm and his eyes following your pacing form. Oblivious to the tiredness in your bones, darkening eyes, and slowing pace: normally you’d be crashing from sleeplessness at a time like this. But the adrenaline in your veins couldn’t leave your form with Yonghoon here, so close.

Back and forth, his stories filling your mind and helping you piece the man together. All while yours gave him a better idea of who had been listening. You had gotten more out of today than the month of listening to his voice sing notes of love songs, pain, and happiness all together did—and the lingering feeling in your stomach never subsided.

“What makes you excited?” His question caught you off guard, the few seconds of silence finally letting your mind race with the reality of having him in your safe space as he truly is.

“Hmm?” The sound wasn’t just from your curiosity of what he meant, but what he was expecting the answer to be.

“What do you think about that makes your heart race from the thought alone? Or what do you do that makes your hands shake from the enthusiasm?” He asked questions that left you on the edge of your seat and made his mind seem like a huge puzzle for you to solve. You couldn’t configure what was next, and that’s what differentiated from him in your mind and the man sitting before you now.

“There are so many examples in life that make us giddy.” He began to explain. “Sex, love, romantic acts done to or around us; they make our heart beat faster. Stepping down one step and accidentally slipping down a second is another, but it’s less controlled. Do you enjoy control?” His words seemed nearly perverted, but he had a point. When you section life off as things that can and cannot be controlled, you’re left with two very different sides.

“Control is overrated.” Your response made him sit back, tap his index finger against his chin, and his eyes roll over your frame from head to toe. “If I had any, true, sense of control—we wouldn’t be here right now.”

“Valid response.” He nodded, but a pout was worn on his face. “But—” His voice was evident of a lingering question, one that had been missed multiple times all day due to not being the right moment. “—how long have you been listening to me sing from above?”

“A little over a month.”

“And you said no words, just listened?” You nodded at his questions, but your gut only tightened. “I was like your little secret.” The smirk on his lips overtook the pout, his eyes glazed over with a filter of courage and libido. “Is that what makes you excited? The thought of me?”

His palm moved from his chin to his knee in tandem with his other hand, the sweat forming from his own excitement being pressed into the fabric of his jeans.

“If I say yes to any of this—” His face was centered with yours, your pacing form finally moving in his direction after hours of keeping a respectful distance. “—would you consider me a creep?”

“And if I say I knew this entire time that you were listening to me, would you consider me a coward for not calling out to you first?”

The long nights of his vocals filling the air, all other neighbors ignoring the sound and going on with their evenings, but you being the only one to listen. It was stupid of you to think it wasn’t obvious, the sound of your window sliding open when the first note left his throat until the last echoed into the darkness. He had known for weeks, but you were on the same page of keeping your distance.

It takes every human emotion and instinct to hold back from doing something simple, common, and natural. The fight is like war—mentally, emotionally, and physically. He held back just as you did, two strangers enjoying each other’s company in silence.

“I would consider you human.” You spoke up, face feeling the heat of his cheeks as you fell down at his side to stare at him evenly. “All this time, and neither of us did anything.”

“Separate worlds mixing for a mere few hours a night, huh?” He laughed like he was being spoiled by the universe, and you were his muse.

“One last question.” You asked, tilting your head to the side. Yonghoon, casually placing his hand over your knee to rub the pad of his thumb in a circle, hummed in response. “Do we keep learning about each other, or return to the pleasing abyss?”

You meet a stranger. Hear their voice, smell their scent, catch their sight—once or repeatedly. And yet they stay at the front of your brain, the image of them like mental polaroids. Why is it that we fall in love with strangers? Everyone you meet is a stranger until you get to know them, but how can you know you love them if you’ve never met them?

One answer resides, and you didn’t have to question it for a split second—that gut feeling.

“Your call, stranger.”

As your eyes adjusted further in the dark, you started to make out the rest of his figure next to you. His whole body was tense and he was curling into himself. His breaths were shallow and quick.

“Hoon?”

Now you could see that his eyes were squeezed shut and his face was screwed up into a terrified grimace.

“Hoon, hey!”

“Stop--stop!” he gasped.

He pulled his hand--the one tangled with your hair--closer to him, dragging your head along with it. With a sharp crack, your foreheads collided.

His hand immediately released as he recoiled. “What--what’s going on?” he panted as he caught his breath. “(Y/N)? What’s happening?”

“I think you were having a bad dream,” you groaned, nursing both the impact zone on your forehead and where your hair had nearly been ripped out of your skull. “Are you awake now?”

He swallowed and kept steadying his breaths as he reached out to try and find you in the dark. “Yeah. Yeah, I think so.” His hands found you, and he traced your hands to where they cradled your head. “Did I hurt you?”

“It was an accident,” you said, moving one of your hands on top of his. “Are you okay? Do you remember what you were dreaming about?”

He slipped his hand out from between yours so that he could wrap his arm around your waist and pull you into his embrace. As he nestled his face into your neck, you heard him take in a shuddering breath.

“Oh, Yonghoon,” you sighed softly, wrapping your arms around him in turn. You felt him shaking as you stroked his hair. “It’s okay, you can let it out.”

And so he did. You were curious what had worked him up like this—he wasn’t someone who was ashamed to cry, but these weren’t the tears you were used to seeing. However, you knew that satisfying your curiosity wasn’t as important as making sure he knew he was safe in your care.

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed, his voice muffled as he still had his face buried in your neck. “It was just weird and scary and--” he sniffed-- “I didn’t like it.”

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” you assured him. You brushed his hair flat and kissed the top of his head lightly. “I’m just here for you.”

“Okay,” he said with a small, shaky nod. He had calmed down a bit, but he was still holding you like you would disappear if he let go. He still cried, too, just a little softer now.

“I’ve got you,” you comforted him.

In not too much time, he ended up falling asleep again. It had been hard and busy for him for a while, so you weren’t too surprised. He was tired, and you were just grateful to have him in your arms.

With a smile, you wondered if he would remember this in the morning. It was okay if he didn’t remember as long as you could keep this moment as treasure. As much as he loved to snuggle, it wasn’t often that you had him asleep in each other’s arms like this.