#ytm

Chapters

| 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 |

| 6 (Written 18+) | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 |

| 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 (written) | 15 |

| 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 (written) |

| 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 |

| 26 | 27 + .5 | 28 | 29(written) | 30 |

| 31 | 32 | 33 | 34 | 35 |

| 36(written 18+) | 37 | 38 | 39(written) | 40 |

You've gone from arriving at the carnival in a dress and avoiding Melli like she could kill you, to almost exposing yourself to your teammates while changing from the bushes to a moving spinning teacup, and giving Seokmin a well-deserved slap to the face—all without getting caught. You're quite proud of yourself for this feat. Now, all that's left is the kissing booth.

The dreaded kissing booth. Just one more thing to get through.

Meanwhile, Mingyu waited impatiently in line, finally nearing the front, with an anxious bounce in his step. His eyes darted around nervously, and he could feel his heart pounding in his chest. Wonwoo, following behind, adjusted his glasses, let out a smug chuckle, and rested a firm grip on his friend's shoulder. "Down, boy."

Mingyu swatted him away, feeling every bead of sweat trailing down his neck and forehead. He wiped his palms on his jeans, trying to steady his breathing. The anticipation was almost unbearable, and he glanced back at Wonwoo, who seemed annoyingly calm. Mingyu's thoughts raced as he inched closer to the front of the line, his nerves buzzing with every step. “Fuck off. I’m having a mental breakdown.”

“Don’t make it obvious. You’re almost there.”

As the boys continued their conversation, Chae was grappling with customer after customer at the kissing booth. The final one, right before Mingyu, seemed to be taking an eternity. She forced a smile, trying to hide her discomfort as the man—who gave off definite freshman vibes at most—finally pulled away. His breath was a potent blend of turkey leg and popcorn, the greasy aroma clinging to her lips. She could practically feel the butter and salt seeping into her skin, and the lingering taste made her stomach churn in the most foul way.

Suppressing the urge to gag, she discreetly wiped her lips with the back of her hand, desperate for an opening to rinse out her mouth. The thought of that flavor staying with her all night was almost unbearable. She glanced around, hoping for a moment to catch her breath and shake off the unpleasant encounter, while silently praying the next customer would be quicker and less offensive.

“Here you go,” Wonwoo patted the nervous mountain of a man, “You’re finally gonna know what it’s like to suck face with Chae. Your truest most devestating victory. Making you a men amongst…well yourself. Still, an accomplishment nonetheless. And now there’s nothing–”

You hurried towards the booth, the urgency of the moment making your heart race against both speed and time. As you reached Chae, you couldn't help but flash her a kind smile, eager to take over after the marathon you ran. “Hi, I’m here to relieve you!”

The smiles on Wonwoo and Mingyu’s faces faded, and now the pats from the spectacled man felt more apologetic than encouraging. “Or not.”

Chae released a breath of relief. “Oh, thank god. By the way, be careful of the older guy coming up,” she warned, her eyes darting to a silver-haired man a couple of customers behind the line. “He’s chewing on something and I don’t think it’s gum. And for the love of god, don’t even crack your mouth open the slightest bit when you kiss. They’ll take it as an invitation.”

You furrowed your brow slightly. “Noted.”

Before leaving, Chae quietly scrutinized your appearance, her gaze searching for recognition of your features. “Have we met before?”

You chuckled nervously, feeling a knot of apprehension form in your stomach, as you shook your head in denial. “No,” you replied curtly, giving her a reassuring pat on the back before leading her out of the way.

Mingyu trudged towards you, his gaze unwilling to leave Chae’s retreating figure, softly muttering sounds of remorse under his breath. “Just my luck.”

“Oh, sorry,” you replied with a hint of disappointment evident in your tone.

"Oh! Not because of you, because you are..." He stumbled over his words, his gaze lingering on his source of dismay as he drank in the soft contours of your features. Your eyes, gentle and mesmerizing, seemed to dance in the warm sunlight, casting a spell on him. The gentle breeze tousled your hair, effortlessly arranging it in a perfect frame around your face. And your smile, though slightly awkward, possessed its own gentle yet friendly charm. Mingyu felt a flutter in his chest as he struggled to find his breath and he was unsure whether it was because of you or the lingering effects of his crush from before her departure. “You’re… you know…”

"I am?" You responded, slightly confused but perceptive enough to recognize that he was attempting to compliment you in his own boyish manner. "Thanks, I think," you added with a hint of amusement.

"Yeah," Mingyu felt a smile creeping onto his face, "Just know I mean no offense. Not in the slightest."

Wonwoo scoffed, crossing his arms. "No need to flirt, you know," he remarked, his tone tinged with amusement.

"Yeah," an outsider interjected in annoyance, flashing his belt of tickets like a trophy, "It’s not the time to go steady. You paid for your time, so pucker up so the rest of us can too."

Mingyu gritted his teeth as he turned around, his tanned skin flushed with a bright shade of embarrassment. "Why don't you both just chill out?"

Turning back to you, Mingyu cleared his throat. “I guess I should be kissing you now.”

"Right," you chuckled nervously, trying to steady your breathing, feeling a bundle of nerves coiling inside you already. "Here we go."

"Here we go."

It took a moment to find the right head placements, uncertain whether to lean right or left, but as your lips met his, there was no going back. The warmth of his breath against your skin, the softness of his lips, and the subtle tension in the air crackled like a kindling fire. Your eyes instinctively closed, hands finding their place against his forearms as you leaned in deeper, feeling the movement of his luscious lips transporting you to another realm.

When he finally pulled away, you tasted regret lingering between you, sensing his own conflicted emotions. “Okay, I think that’s worth one ticket,” he murmured, his breath fractured against the charged atmosphere.

“No, you've got a few more seconds,” you countered hungrily before eagerly diving in for seconds with even less reluctance.

Your fingertips brushed against the warmth of his cheeks, tracing the rugged contours of his face, as if committing every detail to memory for later satisfaction. Urgently, you pulled him closer, craving the taste of his lips against yours. Meanwhile, his hand claimed your waist possessively, pulling you closer as if afraid to lose the sensation, worried about ever feeling like this again.

At that moment, both of you seemed to devour the heat that the kiss ignited, a primal hunger burning with an intensity neither of you could deny. With each passing second, the world outside ceased to exist, leaving only the two of you locked in a passionate embrace that felt simultaneously fleeting and eternal.

“Hello…” the outsider sounded out. “Get a fucking hotel or something if you’re gonna get your dick wet, dude.”

The kiss ended abruptly with a hand on your shoulder roughly tugging you away from the scene. “Y/n, what the fuck are you doing with this guy?”

Your eyes shot back at Seokmin, catching the flash of anger in his gaze, but you didn't hesitate before firing back, “Hey, I was getting into that!”

“Excuse me, rock for brains. What are you doing making out with my Y/n?” Seokmin's voice dripped with venom and delusion.

Mingyu's eyes blazed with annoyance as he recognized the unwelcome intrusion that was Lee Seokmin. He had encountered the same-aged man more times than he cared to count, recalling their past battles for scholarships, facing off on opposite teams in various games, and every time Seokmin spoke, Mingyu felt himself recoil in disgust from the other's lack of sportsmanship. He wasn't a true soccer player; he merely kicked the ball around and messed about as if it meant nothing. The worst kind of colleague to have, and that was putting lightly.

"Excuse me," you interjected firmly, shoving your ex aside, "I am not yours."

Seokmin scoffed, his demeanor oozing with superiority. “Y/n, I told you your brother was going to the inferior school, and yet you’re macking with their biggest resident douchebags. I am beyond disappointed.”

“What does Yeonam have to do with this?” you asked, your tone tinged with offense at the implication.

Mingyu's gaze shifted toward you, a flicker of surprise lighting up his eyes as he began to piece together the puzzle. “Wait, Yeonam is your brother?” he echoed, comprehension dawning on him. His expression shifted into a mix of confusion and realization, a silent acknowledgment of his misstep evident in his befuddled expression that seemed to say, 'Oh, I fucked up.’

“Now that that’s cleared up, you’re about to get your fucking ass beat,” Seokmin spat.

Mingyu inflated his chest, adopting a confident swagger as he leisurely advanced toward Seokmin, his smug smile stretching across his face like a victorious conqueror. “What are you gonna do? All I need to do is hurl a ball at your nuts, and you’re down, buddy. Tears and everything.”

“That was you?” you exclaimed, now the surprised one.

Seokmin quickly tried to hush you, “Those were not tears! Something got in my eyes when I fell! You better watch yourself, Kim.”

“Or what?” Mingyu challenged, stepping closer, his eyes narrowing with determination.

You rushed to intervene, placing a hand on each of their shoulders. “Guys, this isn’t the place or the time. Let’s just cool down, okay?”

Seokmin's demeanor softened momentarily as he glanced at you. “You’re right, baby…or?”

Without warning, Seokmin swung a fist and landed it squarely on Mingyu's jaw, igniting an all-out brawl. Mingyu stumbled backward, clutching his face in pain as the crowd around them gasped, some even beginning to cheer, adding to the chaotic scene. Quick to recover, Mingyu retaliated, launching himself at Seokmin with a vengeance, delivering a blow to his ribs. You desperately tried to pull them apart, your voice drowned out by the noise of the onlookers.

Meanwhile, their tumultuous scuffle sent them careening from the face painting booth to the popcorn machine, narrowly missing poor Chan who was managing it. In the midst of the chaos, you found yourself tumbling headfirst into an innocuous display of cotton candy, the sticky sweetness clinging to your hair and clothes as you struggled to regain your footing.

As Mingyu and Seokmin continued to grapple with each other, they crashed into a stack of carnival prizes, sending stuffed animals flying in every direction. The crowd erupted in a mix of laughter and shock, drawing more onlookers by the second. Amidst the pandemonium, the distant blare of a security whistle signaled that your time to defuse the situation was running out.

Just as things seemed to spiral further out of control, your mother, the vice head of all things debutante, stepped in to intervene. "Stop it! Stop it! That’s quite enough," she exclaimed, her authoritative voice cutting through the chaos. She addressed you sternly, noting your involvement in the melee. "Y/n, this behavior is unbecoming and inappropriate! All of you! How could you let it get this far?"

Frustration simmered beneath the surface as you scowled, picking bits of food from your dress. Despite the urge to argue back, you held your tongue, unwilling to escalate the situation any further. Instead, you focused on composing yourself, brushing off the crumbs with an air of dignity amidst the carnival mayhem.

“The two of you are to leave the premises at once!” The head lady of the debutante society followed, her voice stern and authoritative as she lectured them like a disappointed parent. As Mingyu and Seokmin were escorted away, the carnival fell into a hushed buzz of gossip, with whispers spreading like wildfire about the dramatic altercation.

Meanwhile, you maneuvered through the crowd, attempting to blend in like a flock of pigeons amidst pedestrians, successfully avoiding the chaotic scene until you collided with a firm, warm body. Startled, you looked up to apologize, but before you could speak, their hand wrapped around your figure, steadying you. Meeting their eyes, you found a mixture of amusement and tenderness.

“Soonyoung,” you breathed out softly.

“There you are. You're here,” he claimed softly, a reassuring smile gracing his lips.

“Yeah, uh, a lot's happened,” you replied, feeling a wave of relief at his presence.

When you finally get to be in the field all you feel is relief until it comes to trying to convince Seungcheol to put you back in after that awful performance courtesy of your brother.

“Captain!” you call out, your voice tinged with urgency.

Seungcheol glances at you from the corner of his eye, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. The stern set of his jaw and the way he shifts his weight suggest he’s not in the mood for pleasantries. “Maybe next game,” he replies coolly. “Can’t risk another fluke like the one you had out there.”

“I was nervous,” you protest, trying to keep your tone steady. “It was my first game with a new team. I panicked. Please, just give me another chance.”

Seungcheol shakes his head, a look of skepticism in his eyes. “How am I supposed to trust that this time will be any different?”

“Put me in and I’ll show you,” you insist, your voice brimming with determination.

Seungcheol exhales sharply, clearly agitated, and turns his attention back to his clipboard. His gaze flickers briefly in your direction before he starts writing something down. The seconds tick by as he weighs his decision, and you hold your breath. 

Finally, he looks up, a reluctant glimmer of hope in his eyes. “Since you look like yourself again,” he says, his tone softening just a touch, “I’ll give you 15 minutes. Use the time to reflect on what happened. Then we’ll see if you’re ready.”

“Got it, Coach—I mean, Cap,” you respond, a mixture of relief and resolve in your voice as you prepare to prove yourself.

You take the spot previous occupied by Yeonam next to Jeonghan who holds a smile of mischief like he always does. He gently nudges you, playfully greeting you. “Welcome back to the bench, Yeonam.”

“Thanks,” you grumble, your gaze lingering enviously on your teammates out on the field. A few catch your eye, especially one who you happened to share a bed with just last night. You sigh deeply. “I don’t know what to do, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan picks up on the fact that your frustration likely stems from more than just soccer. He senses that there’s an underlying issue he might not fully grasp without knowing the whole story. Still, he recognizes the delicate nature of your situation, understanding that when it comes to your personal life—especially something as precarious as your recent entanglements—he needs to tread carefully.

“Soccer, buddy,” Jeonghan says with a wry smile, “We’re playing soccer.”

You roll your eyes, a mix of exasperation and frustration. “You know what I mean.”

The match is evenly balanced halfway through. Seokmin manages a few solid shots, proving himself a key player for his team, but he struggles to keep up with his opposite, Mingyu, who is emerging as the true star on the field. Invisible to the naked eye, he lets his mind on body run on the one thing he could focus on: his rage, allowing it to fuel his movements. It doesn’t take him long to dominate the pitch, and before you know it, it’s your time to rejoin the game, with Seungcheol’s approval and a pat on the back from Jeonghan.

You jog excitedly back to your team, eager to hear the game plan and be involved. However, you’re distracted by compulsive lingering glances at Soonyoung, who never even bothers to look your way. You decide to shift your focus to Mingyu, who noticeably avoids your gaze. Before you can offer your input, the team huddles and breaks, and everyone returns to their positions on the field.

You chase after the ball, skillfully dodging defenders and making yourself available. “I’m open! I’m open!” you shout, hoping to get Mingyu's attention.

Mingyu, controlling the ball, ignores your calls and attempts to maneuver around you, ultimately missing the goal. Your frustration is palpable as you furrow your eyebrows at your roommate, pointing out your presence on the field. Once again, you receive no response from him, and instead, Seungkwan gives you a reassuring pat on the back, “You ok?”

You nod at him in tired confirmation, and quickly, the game is back on with the soccer ball at centerfield once again.

This time, you're trailing Mingyu closely, trying to keep up with his swift footwork. "Pass it to me! I got it!" you shout, waving your arm to get his attention.

But he doesn’t acknowledge you. His focus is solely on the goal ahead. He takes the shot, but it goes wide. No goal. Nothing but air.

Frustration bubbles up inside you. “Mingyu, come on!” you shout, your voice tinged with a mix of disappointment and urgency. 

“Stop following me,” he finally says before running off.

This goes on for a period of until you’re at your tipping point, confronting him after yet another missed goal. “What the hell, Mingyu! Why are you being like this?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He dismisses.

“You know what? No.” Before he can storm off again, you stand your ground in front of him, ready to duke it out in front of the entire team if you need to. “I am gonna worry about it. We were good for the last weeks working together, getting along even. Texting a decent amount, then you block me, and now you’re blocking my plays.”

Mingyu tightens in on your confrontation, a silent anger in his eyes. He drops is voice low enough for only you to hear, clipped tone that makes it clear there’s more at stake than just the soccer game. “Well, maybe if you didn’t be a dick instead of being my friend, I wouldn’t have to.”

“Bro, are you kidding me? All I’ve ever been is your friend. What is this even about?” you demand, your voice trembling with frustration.

“I know,” he retorts, taking a sharp breath. “I know what you and Chae did behind my back.”

“You—you actually—wow, dude,” you stammer, utterly stunned by his accusation.

He scoffs, crossing his arms. “Can’t say shit, can you?”

“What the hell is interrupting the game right now? Boys?” the Captain intrudes, his voice cutting through the tension.

Your hands start trembling, and you feel the weight of your bottled-up emotions about to explode. “You know what? Fuck. I can’t do this. You know what, Mingyu? I didn’t kiss your crush, my brother did.”

“Brother?” Mingyu stares, his anger only intensifying with your supposed lie. “You don’t have a brother.”

You nod, your voice steadying. “Yes, I do. Yeonam—Yeonam is my brother.”

Mingyu’s face twists in disbelief. “Have you gone mental?” he asks, his tone a mix of anger and bewilderment.

“Goddamnit, look,” you say, reaching for the back of your head. You pull against the elastic band holding your hair tightly in place, finally releasing it from its death grip.

As your hair falls against your shoulders, everyone’s eyes widen in surprise, shocked to see you shed your disguise.

“What the fuck,” Mingyu begins to grumble, his voice tinged with disbelief.

You peel back the fake eyebrows, sideburns, and anything else that was part of your disguise. Each piece removed leaves you feeling more vulnerable, fully exposed to scrutiny as you reveal your true self. 

“Yeonam is my brother because… I’m his twin,” you say, standing tall despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

The corner of your eye can’t help flicker towards Soonyoung quietly started before he turns away from you, something being told in his body language and your heart sinks realizing what. The revelation hangs heavy in the air, Mingyu's expression shifting from confusion to a mix of shock and realization. The team around you murmurs, trying to process what they've just witnessed.

“Are you kidding me right now?” Mingyu exclaims, his voice full of disbelief.

“Y/n?” Seokmin steps forward, recognition dawning on his face. “What is this? What are you doing playing for this team, dressed like one of them?”

You scoff, locking eyes with your ex. “Making a point, asshole.” You turn back to Mingyu, who is still in shock.

“And no, I didn’t kiss Chae. I mean, how could I when I don’t see her that way and knowing you have feelings for her?”

“You—I—“ Mingyu stammers, struggling to find his words.

You take a deep breath, addressing the team. “I’m sorry, guys. I joined this team because mine was terminated to prioritize the boys' team at my university. I joined this team because you guys were the best, along with my school. And my brother” you clear your throat, “ he was going to be out of town. That’s him over there.”

The team follows your gaze to the stands, where your brother Yeonam is watching. Noticing the attention, he makes his way down, joining the group with a soft smile. “Hi.”

“He was the one playing in the first half of the game,” you add, feeling defeated. “That’s who was kissing Chae that night.”

“No wonder he sucked,” Jihoon blurts out, unable to hold back his observation.

“Hey,” Yeonam retorts, clearly offended.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. “Soccer is my entire life. I wanted to prove to everyone here, and maybe to myself, that we didn’t need to be boys to play. To prove ourselves worthy of the school funding. I didn’t think I’d end up liking being on this team so much. Liking the people on this team so much.”

You glance at Soonyoung, and for a brief moment, your eyes meet before he looks away again, avoiding your gaze. The moment hangs in the air, thick with unspoken emotions and the weight of your confession.

It hurt. More than you’d like to admit.

You realign your gaze. “I wanted to play so badly, and I can’t do that with what’s happened between us. We had a good thing going, our friendship. We’re better together, stronger when we work as a team.” You pause, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. “What do you say, Mingyu?”

Mingyu hesitates, then asks, “Wait, wait. If you’re not a guy, then what are you?”

You roll your eyes in exasperation. “Do I have to whip my tits out to prove something?”

Joshua chimes in with a grin, “Is that an option?”

“Please don’t,” Yeonam interjects, looking horrified. “I’d rather not see my twin’s tits. Sounds like it would require expensive therapy.”

“Yeah ditto, stickdick.”

“Okay. I believe you,” Mingyu says, his voice tinged with defeat as he looks down, shoulders slumping.

“So, can I play?” you ask, hope creeping into your voice. “I want to show that it’s not just boys who can be good, and that I, representing my team, can be just as skilled.”

Mingyu contemplates for a moment, his brow furrowing in thought. He glances at Seungcheol before speaking again. “It’s not the matter of the player but what they bring to the field. Skill is nurtured, not born. Right, Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol, who had been observing the exchange closely, lets out a humorless laugh. “Yeah, I guess that’s true,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck with a frustrated sigh. “We’ve all seen players improve through hard work and dedication, regardless of who they are.”

“Hold on,” one of Seokmin’s teammates pipes up, his voice dripping with skepticism. “You guys can’t be serious about this.”

“Why the hell not?” Seungcheol retorts, his voice rising in frustration as he points directly at you with a commanding gesture. “That’s my kid. My player out there. You think I’m going to just let go of someone that talented?.”

Seokmin’s team doesn’t let the matter rest without a fight. The tension remains high as arguments and counterarguments fly back and forth, each side determined to prove their point. The obnoxious player, clearly enjoying the confrontation, smirks as he pulls out a rulebook from his bag, its worn cover betraying its frequent use. He hands it to Seungcheol with an air of smug superiority. “Rules strictly state that boys’ sports teams stay boys’,” he says, his tone almost mocking. “Right, Cap?”

The obnoxious player turns to Seokmin with a triumphant grin, as if he’s won the argument before it’s even over. Seokmin, however, remains silent, his eyes locked on you still registering the conflict in front of him, detailing every word he’s said to your face without knowing and remembering the empty feeling from lack of response.

Seungcheol’s expression hardens as he takes the rulebook, his gaze fierce and determined. With a defiant glint in his eye, he rips the rulebook in half, the pages fluttering to the ground in shreds, and placing the giant chucks back on the opposites. “What rulebook?” he declares, his voice filled with defiance.

Seokmin’s teammate’s eyes widen in shock and indignation. “Hey–” he begins, but Seungcheol cuts him off with a steely gaze.

“If you’re scared of losing, just admit it,” Seungcheol continues, his voice cutting through the tension. “Don’t hide behind some petty excuse like gender. This is about sportsmanship and skill. Unless you’re really just the losers who stole resources from a capable team to cover up your own lack of talent.”

The obnoxious player’s face turns a deep shade of red, his pride clearly wounded. His fists clench at his sides as he struggles to maintain his composure, flinging the defiled rulebook on the field. “You’re on!” he finally shouts, his voice cracking with anger.

The game resumes, and with renewed determination, you step back onto the field, channeling every ounce of energy and skill into each play. Mingyu, having finally warmed up to the idea, starts coordinating seamlessly with you, his passes sharp and his movements precise. The rest of your team, energized by your resolve, steps up their game. You can feel their hope and faith in you, driving you to push your limits and showcase exactly what you’re capable of. To prove yourself that there’s more to what’s in your pants to show what kind of fire is in your heart.

You weave through defenders with skillful footwork, making strategic plays and delivering accurate passes. Each time the ball comes to you, you handle it with precision, your vision and quick reflexes earning you a few key assists and encouraging faces of your teammates. The game is intense, with both teams fighting hard for every inch of ground. You intercept a crucial pass, setting up a perfect opportunity for your teammate to score in the finally minutes of the game. The crowd roars as the ball hits the back of the net, giving your team the lead.

The clock ticks its final seconds and the final whistle blows. The scoreboard broadcast your victory. Ccheers explode around you, a cacophony of celebration and relief. Your teammates rush in, their faces alight with joy. They envelop you in a sea of high-fives and cheers, their exuberance palpable. It’s a moment of pure triumph, and the camaraderie is electric, filling the air with a sense of collective achievement and unity.

Yet, amidst the jubilation, your gaze keeps darting to the sidelines. Soonyoung is already heading towards the locker room, his shoulders slightly hunched, as if trying to escape the spotlight. The sight of him leaving so abruptly tugs at your heartstrings, cutting through the elation of victory. You want to bask in the triumph with everyone, but your concern for Soonyoung pulls you in his direction, a gnawing need to understand what’s behind his distant expression.

You rush to catch up with him, weaving through the celebrating crowd. “Soonyoung! Did you see that? We won!”

He stops momentarily while packing his things, glancing back with a weary expression. “Sure. Congrats on the great game,” he replies, his voice flat and devoid of the excitement that should accompany such a victory.

You take a hesitant step closer, your heart aching at the sight of his disinterest. “I’m really sorry for lying to you,” you say, your voice earnest and filled with regret. You can’t help but feel the weight of your mistake pressing down on you.

“No big deal. Doesn’t matter,” he responds dismissively, his back already turned, signaling his desire to move on.

“But it does,” you insist, your voice cracking slightly as frustration and sadness mix. You trod towards him anxiously, missing the smile he always splays the teeth he bares, the flirtatious way he’d greet as you or Yeonam. “I wanted to tell you. I was just so, so happy being around you, I just…”

Soonyoung takes a deep breath, clearly struggling with his emotions. He shoves the last of his things into his bag with a sense of finality. “Can I just get a minute?” he asks, his voice strained and barely above a whisper.

You nod, feeling a lump form in your throat as you swallow your own tears. “I’m really sorry,” you repeat, your voice soft and almost pleading.

Without a response, Soonyoung walks away with his bag slung over his shoulder, his footsteps echoing as he passes through the locker room exit. The door swings shut behind him with a soft, final thud, sealing him off from view. You’re left standing alone in the boys’ locker room–the one place you did everything in your power to avoid, now the only place you find yourself wanting to stay–as the jubilant echoes of the earlier celebration now distant and muted.

“Soonyoung!” you exclaim, a burst of laughter escaping you as you follow his lead. Your giggles, light and carefree, echoes through the quiet hallway as he gently tugs on your hand.

As you both navigate the ornate hallway, the clamor of the event gradually fades into a muted echo. Soonyoung leads you toward a quieter, more secluded area. You descend a grand staircase, its steps bathed in the soft, golden light of the chandeliers above. The rich scent of polished wood and the faint hum of the building’s old architecture is only what follows

At the bottom of the stairs, Soonyoung guides you to a narrow, dimly lit stairwell. The walls avoidant of historical portraits and antique fixtures, only its old paint and dust and peace of knowledge of its vacant being. It’s intimate with just a few flickering lights casting gentle shadows on the steps and walls, now falling on Soonyoung’s features and painting him a vision both mischief and beauty

Finally, you’re away from prying eyes. The sounds of the bustling event are now a distant murmur, replaced by the soft rhythm of each other’s breathing and the gentle rustling of your dress in your trail. As you both stand there, the shared closeness make the world outside feel like a distant memory, eveloped in teh warmth of each other’s presence.

“I still can’t believe you’re here,” You voice out, grasping on the lapels of his jacket. “I was really preparing for myself to be stood up.”

His fingertips ghost over the curve of your cheek before it hugs you in his grasp, cradling you in his hand. “I had a lot of time to myself and there were a few things that couldn’t help but replaying my head.”

He steps closer, closing the distance between you until you can feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. “How hurt I was that you lied to me,” he admits, his voice tinged with vulnerability as he observes the quiet fall of your smile.

His hand, open and gentle, rests on your lower torso, drawing you closer to him. The contact is tender yet firm, anchoring you both in the moment. “And how I wanted nothing more than to be with you again,” he adds, his words laden with earnest emotion, leaving no doubt about the depth of his feelings.

You open your mouth to speak, but the words catch in your throat as a remorseful breath escapes you. “I am truly sorry for lying to you,” you begin, your voice heavy with sincerity. “I allowed our relationship to develop to the point where I felt like I could finally be myself again. You made—make me incredibly happy whenever I’m with you. I was terrified of everything changing and losing what we had. I was scared of what ‘Yeonam’ might do to us, worried you might think that none of it was real. But it was real—just not the whole truth.”

“In a way, I get it,” he reassures, his tone soft and understanding. “You were doing something you believed in. I just wish I hadn’t been caught in the crossfire like that.”

You bury your face against his chest, finding solace in the coolness of his suit as you try to calm your flustered cheeks. “And I should’ve made things right,” you confess, your voice muffled against his fabric. “I should’ve told you the whole truth the moment I realized how deeply I was falling for you, not game day in front of hundreds of other people.”

He gently lifts your face to meet his gaze, his smile radiating warmth and tenderness. It feels as though your heart is drawn to him, completely captivated by the moment.

“I found out that night you stayed over,” he continues, his voice steady and sincere. “Not on game day.”

Your eyes widen in surprise, taken aback by his truth bomb.

“I saw some of your messages on your phone when you left it behind. I was being nosy, trying to figure out if these feelings I had were just in my head. I was waiting for you to tell me the truth yourself. Then, when that moment happened between you and Mingyu at the soccer game, like a fucking scene out of a movie…Got me thinking. What position was I supposed to play? Striker? Point guard? Goalie? Defense? I was fucking spiraling.”

You clench his suit firmer. “Soonyoung…”

He shakes his head, hair covering his eyes and his inner turmoil spilled like ink on paper, ignoring his eradiacting heartbeat “I didn’t want to be a player in your life who was only ever on the sidelines. If you and Mingyu were meant to be together, I wasn’t going to settle for just being ‘let’s stay friends.’ I wanted to be with you or not at all… but I didn’t really have a choice, did I? Not when I fell in love with you.”

“You fell in love with me?” 

“Right?” he confirms with a scoff of disbelief, his gaze lifing and steady on you. “I haven’t even kissed you yet there’s nothing else telling that I’m not truly, deeply in love with you.”

“I love you too, Soonyoung.” You film hold on to him, fear of him unlatching himself at any moment, clinging on to this moment of mutual desire, truly feeling like you were being swept up something imaginary but was reassured the moment his forehead kisses yours and the tip of his nose traces over the bridge of yours.

“You don’t know how much of a relief it is to hear that.”

Soonyoung’s head lower, gaze dropping down to the shape of your lips and finally take them a residual of urgency he once felt back at his apartment. Your lips, plush and soft, taste of sweetness and longing, quickly consuming him as you clutch him in your grasp, seamlessly following his pace. Swiftly he shifts position, pressing against you as your back meets that was once behind him, and cornering you until there was not and inch of distance between you both.

You moans pried your mouth open and Soonyoung’s hand creep around for your leg before the fabric fo the dress spills down by its slit and exposes your thigh layered in panty hose now pressed against his side.

“You look incredible in this by the way.” He says in a rushed breath.

You softly laugh. “I was hoping you’d get to see me in it.”

“And I was hoping to do more than see you in it.”

“Soonyoung,” You chide, before he slams himself against you back to the wall, replaying the sultry moans leaving your lips.

“I needed the moment I laid eyes on you. I’m not letting anything else take you from me.” His hand travel past your dress and feeling the warmth of your dress, feeling how your arousal seeps past your panties and through your underwear in a damp stain. “How can I when you feel this good against me?”

Leveraging against the wall, Soonyoung tears the fraile fabric of your tights, leaving only your underwear as his remaining obstacle. “Soonyoung,” you admonish, quickly muffled under the palm of your hand, swept up in a concoction of hunger and fear of being caught

“No one will know under this thing, but I will. And that’s good enough for me.”

His kisses cascade from your flushed face, down to your cheeks and chest, and finally to the heat between your legs, sucking against the wet spot of your panties. Your jaw drops slack open, finding yourself being held up off the ground by the sheer force of Soonyoung’s strength and ambition of his jaw. Your hand fall to his hair, gripping it for dear life as he pushes your panties aside and his tongue swirls around your entrance. He starts alternating it with thick stripes being licked from bottom to top, indulging on your heat, before his lips wrap around your clit and sucks.

You’re shaking in his clutches, vulnerable to his attention, and you give soonyoung your whole body. Tired and helpless breaths escape you, following the pure conviction of Soonyoung’s mouth that guides him to its high before he finally parts form you, and lets you taste the pure efforts on your own tongue.

“I needed that so much,” he whines and you nod back in agreement, not having enough.

Soonyoung begins unbuckling his pants, taking out  the cock burning a hole in his pants and gently he guides himself over your slit through your panties, wetting its head with remnants of his earlier feast.

“Soon, give it to me,” you softly plead.

He takes both of your legs to his sides, hilting his cock to your entrance but only brushing the tip gently around your arousal. “Fuck, I want you. I want you so fucking bad.”

“Please, right here. I miss you so much. I can’t wait anymore”

“Fuck.” His length strokes a long caress against your slit before it stretches out your fluttering walls. His hand braces your behind, claiming your ass in full palms beneath the heavily material of your debutante dress and he takes sharp, gradual thrusts, experimenting with your sensation. Your hands grip his shoulders, fingers digging into his linen suit jacket and bracing for impact.

You take him in a liplock, gathering him by the hair on the back of his head and cling around him, savoring every thrust as it plummets deep in you. He’s careful, but needy and by the sounds of his voice, he aches to go deeper and faster. You softly caress him, staring back in those eyes glistening in awe of the you and how your pussy swallows him whole just serendipitously. 

“Why are you perfect in every way?” He whines, into your hair.

In desperate pleas, he drags your body back and forth towards him, bouncing your flesh and being to him like nothing and feeling your walls contract around him deliciously. Soon, your hand claws through his clothes, nails piercing through his flushed skin and you braced the wall behind you as you detected a familiar feeling. Your legs anchor around him, hot with every thrust and your voice finally gives out, not caring how the sound of either of your voices echos like a cave. “I’m coming…”

“Fuck that sounds so much more better than I ever imagined.”

“Soonyoung…” you whimper through your kiss swollen lips.