T.O.P🐰👑

You wanted to move on, you told yourself this was how it was supposed to be, that the breakup had been the best decision the two of you could have made at the time, and for a while you actually managed to cling to that lie. Seunghyun did too. You broke up like reasonable adults, promising you wouldn’t turn into those bitter exes who tear each other apart, convincing yourselves it wouldn’t be a problem to see each other occasionally and reshape your relationship into something like friendship. You both clearly loved fairy tales a little too much…

It’s been a year since you found someone new, Sago, and you thought you had managed to move on from Seunghyun, even though in reality every thought of him still felt like a jagged shard piercing straight through your chest. Especially in those moments when mutual friends casually mentioned him, saying he was seeing some new, beautiful girl again and that this time it actually looked promising. In those moments, you would bite your tongue and secretly hope his new relationship wouldn’t turn out to be as serious as everyone thought, that it would end just as quickly as it began… It’s not that you don’t wish him happiness, you do, you want him to have all the happiness in the world… it’s just that you always wanted to be a part of it. A little selfish, but… that’s exactly who Seunghyun loved, isn’t it? That’s who he made you into… selfish, sharp, and completely addicted to him.

“What are we drinking?” His deep voice comes from behind you, sending an involuntary spark through your body from head to toe.

You turn your head slightly, only to realize he’s already standing right next to you. You lift your chin to meet his steady gaze. Always intensely focused when it comes to you, always deep, always irresistible, and just a little unreadable.

You look away from him for a moment, trying to push back the intrusive thoughts that always, always surface whenever you look into his sharp eyes and at the tension in his jaw. Your gaze drifts over the bottles lined up behind the bar.

“I don’t know… maybe tequila?”

“When you drink tequila, you turn into Speedy Gonzales,” Seunghyun remarks, his voice coldly calm, almost bored, without ever taking his eyes off you.

“Like I’m fast and clever?” you turn your head toward him, raising one eyebrow in question.

“More like you get sharp and a little vicious…”

“You always know how to be incredibly charming,” you shoot back, tapping your fingers lightly against your empty glass. “Look at it this way, at least you’ll have an equal opponent when it comes to being sharp and vicious...”

You’re so focused on his presence that you barely realize how your body is already losing the battle with the alcohol, with Seunghyun’s scent, with the way he looks at you whenever he thinks you’re not paying attention. His presence alone, combined with a third shot of tequila, is nothing short of self-destructive for your self-control.

“I’ve got my car around the corner,” he says suddenly. You turn to him in surprise, your lips parting slightly. You realize that the darker part of you had been waiting for this very bait, but the sharper, more spiteful side has no intention of letting him off that easy.

“Really? Are you seriously suggesting I just leave with you to—” You stop yourself, the word fucking pressing against the back of your teeth, unspoken but loud between you. “I mean… you used to have better lines than that...”

“I used to have better lines when you were mine. You’re not anymore... No point dancing around it,” he cuts you off calmly. He drains the rest of his tequila, making it clear he’s ready to leave.

***

Your back hits the cold, dirty wall almost the moment you step into the alley, just a short distance from the club where barely any streetlight reaches. Seunghyun stands close to you, focused, with one hand braced against the wall beside your head. His gaze is dark, sharp, and dangerous at first glance. But you know him far too well, better than anyone in your life, and you know exactly what’s hidden behind those distant eyes and that hard expression. He is the most vulnerable man you’ve ever known. The kind of man who would rather hurt himself than hurt someone he cares about. He just hides it too well behind a shell that feels almost impenetrable, choosing very carefully who he lets close.

He doesn’t rush. Seunghyun never rushed. You always had the feeling he owned all the time in the world and only ever lent it to you. He lowers his head slowly, his lips almost brushing yours, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet. You can smell his cologne, intense and familiar, and it’s your body that moves first this time.

“Seunghyun…” you whisper, and then you kiss him with complete certainty, like the past year never happened, like you were never apart. You can taste the bitterness of tequila on his tongue, mixed with all the words you never got to say.

Your hands move to his chest and you feel the tension in his muscles under your touch. One of his hands slides down along your side and grips you firmly, while the other stays pressed against the wall beside your head. The kiss is so intense and consuming that you’re not even sure if the dizziness comes from him or the tequila.

Seunghyun deepens the kiss, his tongue moving against yours, and a moan escapes you before you can stop it, because only now do you realize how much you fucking missed him this past year. How many moments you went through alone, wishing he was there to pull you into his arms and tell you everything would be okay. How his presence alone used to make the world feel less overwhelming, less heavy…

He pulls back just slightly so you can both breathe. He looks straight into your eyes, and you know that look too. He’s giving you a choice... A last chance to stop this and walk away.

You kiss him again, softer this time, just a brief touch of your lips. An answer without words...

Without saying anything, he takes your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours, and leads you further down the alley, away from the club, toward his car. The scent inside hits you the moment you get in, warm and familiar, like coming back home after being gone for too long.

You’ve spent so much time in this car, too many memories to count. Laughter, fights, fucking, quiet moments, tears after arguments….

You slide into the back seat and the click of the car locking echoes in the silence like a gunshot. You feel the cold leather beneath your thighs as your eyes adjust to the darkness. Right now, all you can focus on is the sound of Seunghyun’s breathing and how fucking close he is.

You swing one leg over his thighs and settle onto his lap, your skirt riding up high as you move. For a moment, you just look at each other. His hands move over your bare skin, savoring the feeling of you. He traces slow circles along the inside of your thighs, gradually moving higher. You hate waiting. You hate that he always does this. Finally, his fingers find you through the thin fabric of your panties, already wet and aching for him. His thumb brushes over the lace against your clit and you tilt your head back, letting out a jagged breath.

“Kiss me,” he says, his voice sounding like you’re underwater, but you obey instantly. “Do you want me as much as I want you?” he whispers, pushing the fabric of your panties aside. You both exhale at the same time at the first direct touch. You can’t answer, you just nod. One finger slides into you slowly and your back arches. He adds a second and you gasp sharply, your eyes slamming shut. He knows exactly what he’s doing. He always did, unlike Sago, who never managed to learn your body the way Seunghyun did, not even after a year.

You protest when he pulls his fingers out to reach for his zipper. You brace yourself on your knees, lifting just enough to give him space to pull his pants down. One hand grips your thigh while the other guides the head of his cock along your wet folds. Your legs weaken and a faint tremble runs through you. The urge to sink down onto him is almost overwhelming. Even in the dim light, Seunghyun’s gaze moves from your face down to where he’s brushing against you, circling your entrance.

You both let out a sharp breath when you finally lower yourself onto him. For a moment, everything else disappears. You don’t feel where you are, you don’t think about anything else, you just feel Seunghyun filling you completely. You lift yourself slightly and sink back down, wishing this could last forever. You roll your hips slowly and he holds his breath, his grip tightening around your waist. You repeat the movement, faster this time, more desperate.

“Fuck…” he growls, trying to steady you. “Slow down… we’re not going anywhere,” he breathes against your neck, his lips pressing to your skin. But you are in a hurry, because you’ve been waiting for this for a fucking year. You dreamed about sitting on his lap again, about having all of his attention, about being the only thing he wants…

You keep grinding your hips, lifting yourself more deliberately and setting the pace you need. Your hands rest on his shoulders as you move faster. The car fills with the sounds of your bodies, your wet friction, and your desperate moans.

“Look at me, my princess,” Seunghyun whispers. He’s watching you now, the way damp strands of hair fall into your face, the way you chase your release, the way your whole body burns. “I waited a whole year. I thought I’d forget you… but I can’t.”

You tilt your head back and pick up the pace, losing control, losing rhythm. He grips the back of your neck and pulls you down into another kiss. You kiss him, no longer holding back your sounds, the noises spilling from you freely now. All you can feel is the wave building inside you, slowly rising as you finally find the right angle, the one that makes your body react instantly with every movement on his cock.

“Seunghyun… I’m so close…” you whisper. He grips your hips, beginning to thrust his own in rhythm with yours. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you throw your head back. Your eyes fall shut and you press yourself closer, trying to disappear into him completely.

“Oppa…” you moan as your vision blurs and the orgasm hits you. It is a wave so intense that if he wasn’t holding you, you’d probably collapse onto the floor of the car. Seunghyun follows shortly after. You recognize the moment by that deep, broken growl that was always meant only for you. He buries his face in your neck, his warm, unsteady breath against your skin. It’s the most satisfying thing you’ve felt in a year.

His hands move from your hips to your lower back, tracing slow circles before he finally lifts his head to meet your eyes.

“I still love you,” he says quietly. There’s no desperation in his voice, no pleading. He just states it like a fact that needed to be said out loud, something he could no longer keep inside. Tears prick at your eyes as the weight of the moment settles over you. Seunghyun never speaks just to fill the silence. He never throws around empty words. Your throat tightens and you clench your jaw because you can’t cry right now. You can’t cry in front of the man you love so much it fucking hurts, the man you would follow anywhere, the man you gave your heart to without ever expecting it back.

It just didn’t work between you. No matter how much love there was, or how much still remains, it didn’t work. Too many things stood in the way, from his demanding, overfilled schedule to the future itself. Seunghyun never wanted children and never planned to change that, while you always did. You dreamed of being a mother and you couldn’t bring yourself to give that up.

“I have to go,” you whisper, even though you’re still sitting on his lap. A faint line appears between his brows, the one that shows when he’s overthinking. You kiss him one last time, slow and lingering, before you slip off him. You can’t complicate this, you can’t tell him how much you still love him, or how you think of him when you fall asleep next to Sago. You can’t tell him how much you miss every part of him.

You step out of the car and the night air feels colder and sharper than before. You catch the scent of wet asphalt and manage to look back one last time, even though you know you shouldn’t. Seunghyun is still sitting in the dark car. Even through the fogged-up window, you can feel his gaze on you. It’s the kind of look that will stay with you for years, making you question every choice you’ve made.

The heavy front door has barely clicked shut behind you before Jiyong presses your back against the hallway wall so hard that he nearly knocks the wind out of you. His curious, relentlessly wandering hands first cup your face before his fingers roughly slide into your hair, tugging firmly at the roots and pulling you into a wild, urgent kiss. The moment your lips meet, you taste the bitterness of the expensive alcohol you've been drinking together all night. Jiyong claims your mouth without warning, first tracing your lips sensually with his tongue before pushing deeper. A quiet growl rumbles from his throat and vibrates directly against your lips when you accept his challenge, flicking your tongue against his.

The muffled sounds from the VIP lounge of the exclusive club where you first met only a few hours ago are still echoing in your ears. Close your eyes, and you can see it all again... You were sitting there, tired of the shallow conversations around you and the men trying to hit on you with their pathetic pickup lines, when the doors to the lounge opened and Jiyong walked inside... A man with tousled hair, a half-unbuttoned shirt, and a gaze so intense that when your eyes met for the first time, you forgot how to breathe. You forgot how to breathe for the second time when he sat down beside you and politely asked if he could order you another drink. His powerful aura and charisma made it hard to tell whether you were drunk from the alcohol or from his mere presence.

Between drinks, you talked so naturally that it felt as though you'd known each other for years rather than minutes. Before leaving, you laughed as you swapped phones to save your numbers. The alcohol you consumed throughout the night only shattered the final restraints you both still had.

When Jiyong leaned toward you at the bar and whispered into your ear in a slightly slurred voice that he wanted to leave right now and take you home with him, you couldn't say no. In fact, you'd been waiting for that moment ever since the first drink you shared... and since the moment he began slowly tracing your bare thigh beneath the table. His fingers had circled over your skin, forcing you to stifle your quiet moans against the rim of your glass. The attraction between you was like a gravitational pull that simply couldn't be resisted.

And now you're here, in his territory...

Jiyong doesn't give you even a second to catch your breath. His kisses become hungrier and far more urgent. His tongue glides over your lips, which are already unbearably sensitive, and he bites them, forcing you to surrender completely, which doesn't take much effort on his part. With a quiet, drawn-out moan, you give in entirely of your own free will, and if he stopped now, you'd probably lose your mind.

Your coat falls to the floor, and Jiyong's heated palms slide from your hair, down your neck, and toward your hips. His fingers dig into your skin through the fabric of your clothes as he pulls you tightly against him. You can feel every tense muscle in his body, feeling his hardening cock pressing urgently against your stomach, desperately wanting you. You pull him closer by his shirt, and Jiyong presses his full weight against you, grinding his crotch against your lower belly as another quiet growl rises from his chest, making you moan directly into his mouth again.

“God, I think you’re going to drive me insane,” he mutters against your lips between breaths. His voice is deep and rough with uncontrollable desire. “I’ve been wondering what you taste like this entire time...And now I’m finally going to find out.”

You begin moving blindly down the hallway toward his bedroom without pulling your lips apart. Not even for a second do you separate from each other. Your mouths remain connected in a wild, wet rhythm that makes your knees weak. Jiyong bites down on your lower lip, presses his body against yours, and lets his impatient hands wander down your back to squeeze your ass firmly. In his drunken urgency, his hip slams hard into a console table, sending a set of keys crashing to the floor. The sound echoes through the space around you, but neither of you pays it any attention.

Jiyong leads you farther into his bedroom until the backs of your knees hit the edge of the enormous bed. You lose your balance and fall backward onto the soft, cool silk sheets. Jiyong immediately moves over you, trapping you between the mattress and his body. His hungry, darkened gaze nearly consumes you.

“Now I finally get to see what you're hiding under here,” he whispers hoarsely as he undoes the buttons of your blouse with jerky movements, the strained fabric quietly stretching beneath his fingers. “I want to see every single inch of the body I'm about to claim…”

His fingers slide lower toward your stomach, and when his warm palm touches your bare skin for the first time, an electric jolt shoots through your body. Your hips arch upward and a trembling moan escapes your lips. You bury your fingers in his hair and pull him back toward you. Jiyong immediately nips at the sensitive spot on your neck, lifting you slightly and unfastening your bra with one practiced movement before tossing it beside the bed. He sucks on the skin of your neck so hard that you know he'll leave a mark, one you'll have to carefully hide under makeup the next morning. Your breathing quickens and your moans fill the quiet bedroom. Jiyong’s palms travel upward again, cupping your breasts as his thumbs brush over your hardened nipples, pulling another wave of soft moans from you.

“You’re so soft, so perfect, made just for me...” he growls against your neck before lowering his mouth to your breasts, teasing one of your nipples with a gentle bite. His hands move to the zipper of your pants, unzipping them before pulling them down your thighs along with your panties. His fingers brush against your pussy, feeling the wetness waiting there. “Fuck, you’re already so wet, and I haven’t even given you all of my attention yet... What are you going to do when I’m inside you?”

His fingers slide directly between your thighs, touching your pussy for the first time as his fingertips glide over your folds, spreading your wetness over your clit. You throw your head back and dig your hands into the mattress as your trembling exhale turns into a loud, uncontrollable moan.

It's wild, drunken, sensual surrender. Jiyong kisses you and bites your sensitive nipples until he forces moan after moan from your lips. Meanwhile, your hands move to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them impatiently before pushing the fabric from his shoulders. The material slides over his skin, revealing his perfect body.

“Touch me, please,” he whispers desperately as your palm glides down his chest. “Show me how badly you want me...”

Jiyong pulls away for a moment to rid himself of his pants. He unbuckles his belt and unzips his jeans with a sharp sound, shoving them down along with his boxers and tossing them onto the floor. Now there's nothing left between you. Your fingers finally touch his hard cock. He's big, pulsing in your palm. Jiyong moans when you grip him firmly and begin stroking him in long, smooth motions. His hips instinctively press closer, thrusting into your palm.

“Fuck... That’s it, babygirl,” he breathes, closing his eyes as a satisfied smile spreads across his face. At the same time, his fingertips glide along the inside of your thigh. “Keep going. I’m so fucking ready for you... Show me what you can do before I ruin you.”

Everything melts into one heated blur. Your ragged breathing, the scent of his cologne mixed with alcohol, and the uncontrollable desire between you all blur together. After a moment, Jiyong pulls away, settles between your thighs, and fixes his gaze directly on your face. His fingers continue tracing your inner thigh before moving higher to slide two long fingers inside you. He begins stretching you slowly, preparing your body for his cock while his thumb circles your clit, creating a wave of mutual pleasure that makes your head spin.

“So wet for me,” he hisses when he feels you tightening and trembling around his fingers. “You’re milking my fingers... I want to taste you so fucking badly...”

Before you can answer, Jiyong slides down your body. His palms firmly spread your knees apart before he buries his face between your thighs. Your quiet cry of surprise disappears into the dim bedroom when you feel the warmth of his breath against your sensitive pussy.

Jiyong doesn’t wait. His tongue drags over you for the first time in one long, slow stroke directly across your pulsing clit. Your hips arch upward and your fingers desperately clutch the sheets as a sharp wave of pleasure surges through you. Jiyong growls in satisfaction at your reaction, devouring you with predatory intensity. His lips close firmly around your clit while his tongue flicks over it relentlessly, and two of his fingers push back inside you, setting a merciless pace.

“Jiyong... Oh God, Jiyong,” you moan breathlessly, intoxicated by desire and the alcohol still flowing through your veins. You feel the strength of his shoulders beneath your thighs and the persistent pressure of his mouth and tongue driving you insane. With every new stroke of his tongue, you feel the tension inside you rising closer to the breaking point.

Just as he brings you to the edge, he suddenly pulls away. He looks up at you, his lips shining with your wetness and pure triumph burning in his eyes.

“You taste incredible,” he whispers hoarsely, his voice rough with desire. “Sweet, hot, and completely mine... I want you. I want to fuck you so badly.”

You look into his eyes, trembling, turned on, and bold from the alcohol that's washed away your final restraints. “Then talk less and do more,” you breathe, even though your voice shakes with impatience and the lingering heat of his teasing.

Jiyong smiles dangerously. “Dirty girl.”

Without hesitation, he grabs your hips and pulls you directly beneath him. He spreads your knees even farther apart, settles between your thighs, and looks at you one last time to make sure you want him just as desperately as he wants you. When you impatiently roll your hips against his, he tightens his grip and thrusts into you in one sharp movement, burying himself to the hilt.

A loud, uncontrollable cry tears from your mouth and catches in your throat. His size completely overwhelms you for a moment. He's so big and hard that it feels as though he's stretching you from the inside beyond your limits. Jiyong immediately stops. The muscles across his back are tight, and he breathes heavily against your shoulder, giving you a moment to adjust to him.

“Don’t pretend you weren’t expecting this,” he growls hoarsely into your ear when he feels your pussy pulsing around him, desperate to take every inch of his cock.

The moment he notices your hips beginning to relax and you arch against him, he stops holding back and begins thrusting into you. Your eyes close in pleasure, your fingers dig into his shoulders, and all you can feel is the way he drives into you, every new thrust forcing you to gasp for breath.

“You like that?” Jiyong pants as he buries himself all the way inside you, his body slamming hard against yours. A rough moan rises from his chest while he watches you writhe helplessly beneath him with every thrust.

“Yes,” you breathe, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “Go faster, give me more...”

Jiyong smiles in satisfaction and immediately increases both the speed and depth of his thrusts. His pace is relentless. Every thrust fills you with his entire length, striking the sensitive spot deep inside you. The bedroom fills with the sound of your bodies slamming together in a steady rhythm, his rough moans, and your broken gasps.

“Touch yourself,” he suddenly commands, his eyes dark and focused. “I want to watch you rub your clit while I fuck you...”

Without the hesitation, your hand slides between your bodies and your trembling fingers find your sensitive clit, slick and swollen with desire. You begin rubbing yourself in rhythm with his thrusts, immediately feeling yourself approaching the edge again, tightening harder around him.

“That’s it,” Jiyong breathes with a quiet growl when he sees you writhing beneath him, your eyes squeezed shut. “Come for me... I want to feel you tighten around me when you come. I want to hear you scream my name.”

“Oh fuck, Jiyong, it feels so good…” You're in an absolute trance, your body pulsing with pure pleasure while the last traces of alcohol pleasantly blur the inhibitions you'd normally have during sex with a man you've only known for a few hours. You're so completely lost in the moment and the effort to reach your orgasm that you don't even notice someone has been standing in the half-open bedroom doorway for a while, watching what's happening on Jiyong's bed.

Jiyong, however, pauses almost imperceptibly in the middle of one deep, slower thrust, and the muscles across his back stiffen. He slowly turns his head toward the door, raising one eyebrow as a smirk appears on his lips. You're still lying beneath him, breathing heavily, and you're too far gone for it to pull you out of the moment. Your hips lift instinctively, and you don't understand why he's stopped. You want more, and his stillness is destroying you.

Then a deep, raspy voice cuts through the silence, instantly sending goosebumps across your entire body.

“You’re rushing, Jiyong. You always rush everything... Neither of you is going to enjoy it properly like that,” Seunghyun’s low voice says.

Your eyes fly open, and you tilt your head back enough to see Seunghyun’s silhouette in the dim doorway. He's leaning against the frame, wearing a loose black T-shirt and matching dark boxers. The thin fabric can no longer hide how hard he is, or how much the sight of the two of you has turned him on. Slowly, without a single hurried movement, he grips the hem of his shirt, pulls it over his head, and lets it fall to the floor. His dark eyes never leave yours for even a second. He sees you completely naked, vulnerable, and spread beneath his best friend, his gaze locked on the hand that was moving between your thighs only moments ago...

Instead of panic or shame, a wild wave of heat spreads through you. The thought that Seunghyun's been watching you like this, and that he clearly wants you, makes your heart pound even faster with desire and alcohol.

Jiyong lets out a quiet, amused laugh, watching Seunghyun before lowering his gaze to you. His grip on your hips tightens, his fingers digging into your skin as he deliberately drives into you again, slowly and deeply, right in front of Seunghyun’s eyes. A long moan escapes your lips as your body adjusts to the renewed pressure of his thrusts.

Seunghyun takes one slow step toward the bed, his presence instantly filling the room. He watches Jiyong thrusting into you as though Seunghyun isn't even there. He watches your thighs tremble, seeing how desperately you react to every thrust.

“She really is beautiful... Were you seriously planning to keep her all to yourself?”

Jiyong tightens his grip on your hips and lets out a soft laugh. “No. I just knew we’d probably wake you up and that you’d invite yourself in...”

“Can I join you?” Seunghyun asks, tearing his gaze away from Jiyong and looking down at you.

He waits for your answer before moving any closer.

“Yes...” you breathe, unable to stop your gaze from dropping to the hard outline beneath his boxer briefs. You bite your lower lip and impatiently reach toward his thigh.

Hooking his thumbs into the waistband, Seunghyun slides his boxers down his long legs and kicks them aside. Your eyes follow his every move, your breath hitching as his fully erect cock springs free. He's thick, heavy, and pulsing with anticipation, entirely bare before you now.

Seunghyun’s lips curve into a satisfied smirk as he tilts his head slightly. “Do you like what you see?”

You part your lips, but your voice catches in your throat.

Seunghyun kneels on the mattress beside your head, his long fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your damp forehead before his fingertips glide across your cheek.

“You're really going to let us both have you, princess?” he asks in a low, dangerous murmur.

When you nod and pull him closer, only then does his other hand slide along your inner thigh to spread your legs a little wider, giving Jiyong enough space to thrust even deeper. The new pressure makes you throw your head back and moan.

Seunghyun leans down toward you, finding your lips to silence your moans with a kiss. His tongue takes possession of your mouth with calm dominance while Jiyong moves inside you in a steady rhythm. You're trapped between the two of them, surrounded by their scent, their heat, and their presence...

When Seunghyun finally pulls away from your lips, his gaze drops toward your hips. Jiyong seems to know exactly what he wants. Slowly, they guide you into a new position together. Jiyong carefully slides out of you, making you moan quietly at the loss, as their hands turn you over onto all fours.

Your knees sink into the soft silk, your hands tremble, and your head spins pleasantly as you find yourself face-to-face with Seunghyun, who is kneeling directly in front of you. Jiyong doesn’t waste a moment behind you. He moves close, running his palms over your hips to squeeze your ass gently before his hands grip them firmly. From this new angle, he guides the tip of his cock back inside you in one deep thrust.

An helplesscry tears from your mouth. Jiyong holds you firmly, his thrusts deeper and more forceful in this position. You arch your back beneath the pressure, pushing yourself even closer to Seunghyun, who's kneeling in front of you, stroking his hard cock several times before moving closer. You lift your hazy gaze to meet his, his eyes dark, hungry, and focused entirely on you, on your eyes and your mouth.

“Princess...” Seunghyun whispers hoarsely, his deep voice driving you crazy. One hand slides into your hair, gently forcing your head back. “I want to feel your beautiful mouth around my cock... Do you want that too?”

Behind you, Jiyong thrusts even deeper with a low moan. The angle is perfect, every thrust striking your most sensitive spot with absolute precision. You feel his fingers digging into your hips, stretching you, taking you with his entire length. The sound of skin slamming against skin mixes with Jiyong’s uneven breathing, his expression far too easy to imagine even though you can't see him, because your eyes are locked only on Seunghyun.

“I do...” Your voice shakes, and your throat feels tight and completely dry. “I want your cock deep in my throat... right now.”

Seunghyun growls in satisfaction and pushes his hips closer to your face before gently tapping the tip of his cock against your lower lip. “Then open up. Open that beautiful mouth and take me... Show me how badly you want it.”

Your lips part and you exhale shakily when the smooth, wet tip of his cock touches your tongue for the first time. Salty drops of precum spread through your mouth, and you lean forward without hesitation. At first, you only circle his tip with your tongue, sucking gently and enjoying his taste. After a moment, you press your tongue against the slit at the tip before slowly beginning to take more of him into your mouth.

“Fuck,” Seunghyun breathes, his head falling back as pleasure surges through his body. “That feels so fucking good... Give me more, princess. Take me deeper...”

Seunghyun’s large palms slide into your hair, his fingers weaving through the hair, but he doesn’t pull. He only holds you firmly, controlling the depth while adjusting his hips to the pace you set by moving your head back and forth. You raise one hand and place it against his thigh to let him know if you need to breathe, feeling the muscles beneath your palm tightening and his breathing growing faster. You hollow your cheeks, sealing your lips around Seunghyun’s cock and sucking him tight as you move your head faster, taking as much of him into your mouth as you can.

Behind you, Jiyong growls in satisfaction, taking in the perfect view of both of you. His thrusts are short, sharp, and merciless, driving into your body one after another. The bed creaks beneath the weight of your passion as his heated skin slams hard against yours.

“Fuck, this is the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen,” Jiyong pants through his teeth, his voice rough as he begins losing control. “I can feel you tightening around me... Do you want to come that badly?”

You have no chance to answer, only moaning around Seunghyun’s cock, which makes him begin meeting your pace more eagerly. His hips move in a calm, steady rhythm that creates a torturous contrast to Jiyong’s wild thrusts. You feel him against your tongue and deep in your throat, your muscles instinctively tightening around him every time you swallow. His moans remain low and rough, but with every thrust, he loses more of his careful control.

“Princess,” Seunghyun groans again, this time completely undone by your mouth. “God... You suck me so fucking good...”

Jiyong hits your most sensitive spot every time he drives into you, sending you racing uncontrollably toward the edge. The pressure, the intensity, and the knowledge that you're filled from both sides, surrendering to two men at once, drives you insane. Every deep thrust from Jiyong rubs exactly where you need it until tears of pleasure fill your eyes.

Seunghyun’s moans grow louder and his fingers tighten in your hair as his hips move faster. “Come with me, princess,” he urges in a hoarse, desperate voice. “I want to feel your throat tighten around me when you come...”

Jiyong’s thrusts grow rougher behind you, his self-control completely shattered. His pace is deep and fast, his grip on your hips so firm that his knuckles turn white. The bedroom fills with the raw sound of skin slamming against skin and your broken breathing.

The unbearable intensity in your lower stomach, Jiyong’s relentless pace, and Seunghyun deep in your throat, his hoarse moaning finally throwing you over the edge. A violent spasm surges through your body. Only a muffled, strangled sob escapes around Seunghyun’s cock as you arch into a breathless orgasm. Your inner muscles clench wildly around Jiyong while your mouth tightens around Seunghyun, forcing both men to moan loudly at almost the exact same moment.

After a while, when your frantic breathing begins to calm, Seunghyun straightens above you, pulling back to let you breathe. His eyes are darker than ever, but his movements remain surprisingly gentle. One palm strokes your cheek while the other supports your shoulder to help you steady yourself after the shattering orgasm.

Jiyong remains inside you for a moment, still hard, just like Seunghyun. His hands slowly slide from your waist along the curves of your hips, his thumbs drawing soothing circles over your sweaty skin to give you time to recover. Then he grips your hips firmly, slowly pulling out of you, and with Seunghyun’s help carefully turns you over to lower you onto your back against the silk sheets. His gaze remains predatory, his lips trembling slightly, his entire body clearly ready to continue as Jiyong and Seunghyun exchange positions without a word.

Seunghyun moves between your spread thighs. Unlike Jiyong’s, his movements are slow, deliberate, and perfectly controlled. His large palms slide beneath your thighs, lifting your hips higher as his cock presses against your entrance.

“Ready for another round?” he asks in a quiet, deep voice that makes your lower stomach tighten while he continues stroking your trembling thighs in slow circles.

All you can do is nod and shift your hips closer to him. With parted lips, you watch as he slowly pushes inside you, his size filling you relentlessly, inch by inch. You feel his entire length stretching you open, claiming you all the way to the deepest part of your body. His pace is almost hypnotic, completely different from Jiyong’s but equally perfect. He gives you one deep thrust, pausing for a moment to look into your eyes before pushing a little farther than before.

“God, can you feel it too, princess? How deep I am and how completely I’m filling you?” he asks hoarsely, buried so deeply inside you that there's almost no space left between your bodies.

“Yes,” you breathe, desperately clutching the sheets beneath your fingers. “It feels so good...”

Jiyong doesn’t stay still for long, kneeling beside your hip to watch in fascination as Seunghyun drives into you with deep, slow thrusts. One hand wraps firmly around his own cock, still pulsing with the need to come, as he begins stroking himself in long, firm motions. He watches Seunghyun’s muscular body move rhythmically between your legs, drinking in the way pleasure transforms your expression.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect... I feel like I could come right now just from looking at your face and your body...”

His other hand slides over your tight, sweaty stomach toward your clit, extremely sensitive and swollen after your first orgasm. Jiyong’s fingers begin rubbing it in perfect rhythm with Seunghyun’s deep thrusts.

“Still so sensitive...”

At the same moment, Jiyong bends low over you, his rapid breathing warming your skin. He presses his lips to yours, pushing his tongue into your mouth. Your kisses are hungry and wet while Seunghyun maintains his focused rhythm between your thighs, pushing you closer to another orgasm. Jiyong pulls back just enough for his lips to still brush yours as he whispers so quietly that only you can hear him.

“Do you like it, babygirl?”

You nod desperately, completely lost in the heated chaos. Your fingers slide into his hair, pulling him back into another hungry kiss to drown your loud sob of pleasure in his mouth.

Seunghyun watches the two of you from his position, his gaze fixed on Jiyong’s fingers and your tangled lips. The sight drives him wild, his hips moving a little faster while maintaining the depth of his thrusts, forcing you to arch your back every time he drives into you.

Jiyong presses harder against your clit, teasing you in a perfect rhythm, pushing you helplessly toward the edge. You're trapped between Seunghyun’s deep thrusts, Jiyong’s mouth, and his fingers working your clit.

“Please,” you breathe against Jiyong’s lips in an agony of pure pleasure, your hips twisting uncontrollably beneath the weight of both men. “I’m... I’m so close...”

“Not yet,” Seunghyun commands, immediately slowing down. “Hold on a little longer. We want you to enjoy this as much as we are.”

Jiyong pulls away from your mouth but doesn’t release you, taking your hand to guide your fingers directly around his cock, pulsing firmly in your palm, hard and heavy.

“Stroke me, baby,” he whispers, his gaze fixed on your lips. “I want to feel your fingers. Make me come...”

Your hand closes firmly around the thick length of his cock. You begin stroking him smoothly and firmly up and down, skin sliding over skin slick with your combined fluids. Beneath your fingers, you feel the frantic pulse of his blood, realizing that he's racing toward his orgasm too.

“That’s it,” Jiyong breathes, his breathing quickening. “Squeeze me properly…harder...”

At that moment, Seunghyun drives into you harder, his pace quickening as his careful self-control breaks at the sight of you. His large hands roughly grip your hips so tightly that you know his fingers will leave dark bruises tomorrow. His thrusts are steady and fast, driven by a single goal.

“I'm close, princess,” Seunghyun pants, his eyes tightly closed as the muscles in his neck strain beneath the force of his pleasure. “So close, princess…”

Meanwhile, Jiyong’s fingers work your clit at a wild, slippery pace. Your body coils tight, and a new, deeper, burning wave explodes in your lower stomach. Seunghyun feels your pussy tightening around his cock, knowing you're going over the edge.

“Now,” Seunghyun growls through his teeth. “Come for us...”

A violent spasm surges through your body, your inner muscles clenching rhythmically around him as another orgasm floods you. Seunghyun lets out a hoarse cry. At the final second, he pulls out, gripping his cock to stroke it quickly until he comes with a deep, guttural moan directly across your bare stomach. Hot, thick ropes of his cum splash against your skin, pooling around your navel. Seunghyun trembles all over, gasping for breath as he looks down with dark satisfaction at the mark he's left on you.

Jiyong lets out a low, ragged moan beside you, his fingers still pressed against your swollen pussy, frozen as he focuses entirely on his own orgasm. Your grip tightens around his cock.

“Fuck...” Jiyong gasps, his back arching, and in the next second his own hot cum spills across your hand and over your breasts. White drops run over the sensitive skin of your chest, mixing with Seunghyun’s mark on your stomach, perfect proof that none of this was merely a creation of your drunken mind.

All three of you collapse into the silk sheets moments later, completely exhausted, sweaty, and breathing heavily. After a while, Seunghyun reaches toward the nightstand with a quiet exhale, taking a few tissues to gently and carefully wipe your stomach and breasts clean. Then he wraps one strong arm around your waist to pull you against his warm chest, where you can still feel the frantic beating of his heart. Jiyong immediately presses against you from the other side, wrapping one leg around you as he places a tired but unexpectedly soft kiss against your temple.

Your eyes begin closing on their own as the alcohol slowly fades, absolute exhaustion taking over. You're trapped in their embrace, surrounded by the warmth and scent of both men. Seunghyun slowly strokes your side with his large palm in a soothing rhythm while Jiyong’s fingers move gently across your bare back, drawing invisible patterns over your skin.

“Get some rest, baby,” Jiyong murmurs into the quiet bedroom, his voice completely calm and rough with sleep.

Seunghyun only hums softly in agreement, kissing your shoulder. Feeling completely safe and satisfied between their bodies, you slowly fall into a deep sleep…

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

When you open your eyes the next morning, the first thing that hits you is the sharp, cold light slipping through the curtains and directly into the penthouse bedroom. A heavy silence fills the room. Your head throbs from the leftover alcohol, your entire body sore in the most satisfying way you've ever experienced. Every muscle reminds you of the wild intensity of the night...

You turn your head to find Seunghyun is no longer in bed. The space beside you is empty, the sheets on his side cold. You remember his lips, his touch, and the way his palm moved over your side before you fell asleep, but in the morning light, all that remains is a strange sense of regret that the private bubble surrounding the three of you has burst.

Jiyong is sitting on the edge of the bed with his back turned toward you. He's completely naked, his face buried in his hands as he exhales heavily and unevenly. The atmosphere in the bedroom is thick, the alcohol gone, and with it the carefree passion of last night, leaving only the raw, cold reality.

Pure desperation races through Jiyong’s mind. You only met last night, but the conversation flowed so naturally that he'd been completely captivated long before you ever left the club. You had so much to talk about, and he liked you more than he's liked anyone in a very long time. Now that he's sober, he's paralyzed by the fear that he's lost you for good. He hates himself for being so drunk and turned on that he allowed Seunghyun to join you. The thought that last night might've been the first and final moment you would ever share completely destroys him. He has no idea how to save the situation, so instead, he closes himself off...

You reach out to touch his tense back. “Jiyong...?” Your voice is hoarse and quiet.

The moment your fingertips touch his skin, Jiyong shifts away. He straightens, avoiding your gaze, his profile hard as stone. He can't bring himself to look into your eyes, expecting to see his own failure reflected there, along with the rejection he fears so much.

“You should get dressed,” Jiyong says in a quiet, exhausted voice. He sounds irritated, but beneath the coldness, there's only helplessness.

You freeze, a painful lump forming in your throat. “What?”

“This shouldn’t have happened...” He finally turns toward you, his expression unreadable and evasive. “We were really drunk. Just... get dressed and leave... please.”

The words cut deep. You feel awful because the spark between you last night had been so intense, and now he's pushing you away because of his own guilt. It wasn’t just sex... was it? You talked for hours. You laughed together. Even leaving the club, you felt as though something real had formed between you. Despite the brutal hangover, you find the last pieces of your pride, refusing to let him see how deeply his words have hurt you.

Without a word, you climb out of bed, ignoring the ache throughout your body to gather your clothes from the floor. With trembling hands, you pull on your blouse and fasten the buttons. Jiyong remains seated on the bed, staring at the floor, giving you space to leave in silence.

When you walk through the enormous, modern living room, your steps slow beside the kitchen counter.

Seunghyun is standing there.

He's already fully dressed in a clean, perfectly fitted white shirt, leaning against the marble counter with a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. Unlike Jiyong, he doesn’t hide his gaze. His deep, calm eyes immediately catch yours, following your every move, searching for any small sign that might reveal how badly you're truly feeling...

“I made breakfast...and coffee. You should eat something before you leave.”

You turn toward him while the morning hangover continues throbbing against your temples. You really need to drink and eat, you‘re incredibly hungry, but the thought of sitting here having breakfast with Seunghyun while Jiyong waits in his bedroom for you to leave doesn’t let you consider the kind offer for even a moment.

“Thank you, Seunghyun,” you breathe in a quiet but steady voice. “But I’m not hungry. I want to go home.”

Seunghyun nods in understanding, making no move to persuade you. He places his coffee on the counter and walks toward the barstool where your coat is draped over the back. You vaguely remember it lying on the hallway floor last night, exactly where Jiyong stripped it from you. Seunghyun must've picked it up this morning, bringing it into the kitchen.

He approaches you with slow, calm steps. Lifting the coat from the chair, he holds it open to help you slide your arms inside. While adjusting the collar, his hand pauses briefly near your neck, as though he wants to stroke your face, or perhaps you're only imagining it because your desperate mind is searching for any small sign that last night wasn’t a mistake, that it wasn’t something you should regret.

Still, it doesn’t change the fact that Seunghyun is treating you incredibly kindly, and if Jiyong weren't in the penthouse, you'd be grateful for both the breakfast and Seunghyun’s presence.

“Jiyong gets these nasty hangovers, especially when he starts overthinking. He gets moody and pushes everyone away. Don’t take it personally,” he says, interrupting your thoughts, his voice calming you in a strange way.

He walks you toward the door and opens it.

“Take care of yourself, princess.”

The way he addresses you sends heat to your cheeks, forcing you to lower your face into the collar of your coat. His words echo relentlessly inside your head, returning again and again, and you don’t have the strength to answer him.

You step into the mirrored elevator.

Only when the doors close and the cabin moves downward with a quiet hum does your proud mask finally fall away. Tears spill over your cheeks, the same tears you fought so hard to hold back inside the penthouse. The sight of your reflection in the mirror is miserable, your eyes tired, your hair disheveled, and your lips a raw reminder that they belonged to both of them only a few hours ago.

Jiyong’s cold words about a drunken mistake still burn in your chest. All the chemistry between you at the bar had felt so real...

Or are you genuinely that naive and stupid?

The phone you've been clutching tightly suddenly vibrates.

You flinch and look down at the screen, where a new message is waiting.

From Jiyong...

Seeing his name reminds you how you laughingly swapped phones at the club to save your numbers, promising that you absolutely had to see each other again.

Your heart pounds in your throat. With a trembling finger, you open the message, and before you can even finish reading, another notification appears beneath it.

Then another...

J: I’m sorry about this morning.

J: I fucked it up...

J: I was so fucking drunk last night... Now that I’m sober, the thought of sharing you is destroying me...

J: I want to make it right. Just you and me. Will you give me another chance? Please..

You release a deep breath, leaning your back against the cold mirror of the elevator. The heavy knot inside your chest slowly dissolves. It wasn’t rejection caused by a lack of interest, but possessive jealousy, fear, and a man’s ego that couldn’t handle waking up the next morning. His messages explain why he changed so suddenly, but they don’t erase the way he sent you away only moments ago.

Relief mixes with pain and the remains of your justified anger, and yet a faint, tired smile appears on your lips… You'll answer him when you're safely home and have had time to calm down.

You turn off the screen, sliding your phone into your coat pocket. But at that moment, your fingers touch something else inside, something that definitely wasn’t there last night...

Confused, you reach deeper to pull out a small, neatly folded piece of paper. You open it, your eyes moving over the sharp handwriting. There's a phone number written there, and beneath it:

Some sins are worth repeating. And I don’t like giving up things once I’ve had a taste of them. I’d like to see you again, this time without Jiyong. Call me.

Seunghyun

Your breath catches.

Seunghyun must've slipped the note into your coat pocket this morning when he went into the kitchen... While Jiyong was drowning in his own regret and is now asking you for a second chance at a normal beginning, Seunghyun is making it clear without hesitation or apology that he's interested in you.

The memories of last night immediately resurface, two completely different energies tearing you apart. Jiyong... wild, impulsive, and burning. His lips against your neck, his hoarse whispers, and the hunger that drove you insane.

And Seunghyun... his calm strength, firm hands, dominant kisses, and deep voice that sent goosebumps across your skin...

Both of them tasted you, both of them marked you... And you want both of them, each in a different way.

The elevator reaches the ground floor with a quiet chime, the doors opening into the spacious lobby. Beyond the glass walls, the busy morning streets of Seoul are already alive. You hide the note back inside your pocket beside the phone that vibrates again, and for the first time, you take a proper breath.

You're caught exactly in the middle.

Between two sins

And which one you eventually surrender to is now entirely up to you…

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The conversation has already shifted about half an hour ago to the kind of topics people usually bring up only once all inhibitions are gone, which is never really much of a problem for your crew anyway. It starts innocently enough, but now you and your two friends are laughing out loud while the guys listen, half offended and half curious, clearly trying to pick up as much useful information as possible from your “girl talk.”

“...no, seriously, I’m not kidding!” You lean your elbow against the back of the couch, lazily swirling the glass in your hand as the alcohol gives you an unexpected wave of eloquence. “It’s the same every single time! Men think sex is a sprint... Reach the finish line in two minutes, ideally as wildly as possible, and then act like they deserve a medal... And the worst part is how awkward it is afterward. When you see how hard they’re trying, you have no choice but to put on a show, moan a little, arch your back, and hope it’ll be over quickly.”

Your friend almost chokes on her drink. “Exactly! Who has the patience to explain to them that it just doesn’t work that way?! It’s easier to fake it just to keep the peace, even though you leave that bed completely frustrated, thinking you should’ve just stayed home and watched a movie instead.”

“Excuse me?!” Seunghyun chimes in from across the table, throwing a glare your way. “Maybe if you women actually told us on the spot what you need in bed, instead of putting on an Oscar-worthy performance and acting like you’re having the time of your life, it would be a hell of a lot easier for everyone! How are we supposed to know you’re faking when you’re screaming like the ceiling is falling down on you?”

“Because of your egos, sweetheart,” you laugh before taking another sip of champagne. “If we tell you that whatever you do for those two minutes isn’t getting us anywhere, you get offended and refuse to talk to us until morning. Men just rush everything. No foreplay, no patience...and sometimes, your stamina is seriously lacking too.”

While the whole table bursts into laughter again and the guys start protesting loudly, you catch a movement at the end of the couch from the corner of your eye. Jiyong. He sits slightly apart the entire time, half hidden in the shadow of a huge neon sign casting red and blue reflections across his face. He doesn’t say a single word until now, when he finally places his glass on the table, lazily leans back against the couch, and fixes you with his dark eyes. That familiar smile plays on his lips, half amused, half offended, as if he can’t decide which one to give you.

“No patience, huh?” his raspy voice finally cuts in. Everyone immediately goes quiet, curious to hear what he’s going to say since he keeps quiet until now. Jiyong looks at the guys, then turns his head back toward you and raises one eyebrow slightly. “Maybe you girls are right. A lot of men treat sex like an ego trip. They want to see a show and they want to put on a show themselves, wanting reassurance that they’re good at it... And you choose to give them that show just so you can have some peace and don’t have to deal with their wounded egos. It’s actually a pretty sad vicious cycle, isn’t it?”

“Exactly, Jiyong! Finally a man who understands and admits it!” your friend immediately agrees, starting to clap.

But for a moment, you almost forget how to breathe. Jiyong’s stare is far too intense, far too personal, and your stomach does a sudden flip. Nobody sitting around this table, nobody in your crew, has any idea that six months ago, after a night very much like this one, the two of you ended up at your apartment. It was an unexpected, wild slip-up between two longtime friends. The next morning, you laughed about it a little awkwardly, agreed not to make a big deal out of it so it didn't ruin your friendship, and neither of you ever spoke about that night again. But now? Now the way he looks at you sends goosebumps across your skin, pulling that night straight back out of your memories.

“But not every man is like that...” Jiyong adds very quietly, lifting his glass and taking a sip without ever looking away from you.

𖡎𖡎𖡎

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Every time you take a sip, you can feel Jiyong’s eyes on you. When the DJ plays your favorite track and you start swaying slightly to the music right where you’re sitting, Jiyong watches you through the smoke of his cigarette with such calm intensity that your throat goes dry. Every movement he makes, every swallow of his drink, the way he runs his hand through his hair puts you into a strange kind of trance. You wonder whether he remembers the same things you do from that night six months ago. Whether he remembers how cold the air in your bedroom was, how warm your skin felt, and how you begged him not to stop kissing you...

The conversation flows around you, but you only catch fragments of words. Your friend beside you gestures wildly, describing some disastrous date from last week, but your hearing is tuned exclusively to the low tone of Jiyong’s voice whenever he throws a few words to Seunghyun on his right. You can feel the alcohol settling warm and heavy at the base of your neck, and the tension between the two of you hangs in the air like an invisible string that only needs the lightest touch to vibrate through the entire lounge.

𖡎𖡎𖡎

Around 3 AM, your crew in the VIP lounge slowly starts to dwindle. People slip away in pairs, and some are drunk enough that they have to hold each other up. You step outside the club into the cold, damp night air of Seoul. The streets of Mapo-gu are quiet, with only the occasional taxi cruising by. You’re standing on the sidewalk, shivering slightly, when Jiyong appears beside you.

“My car and driver are already here,” his voice cuts through the quiet right by your ear, his hand gently but firmly gripping your elbow. “He’ll take you home. We live close by anyway, so there’s no point in you waiting out here for a taxi.”

You look at the black car with tinted windows, its engine quietly humming by the curb as if it’s calling you. You have no logical reason to refuse, even though your heart suddenly starts racing in a dangerous rhythm. “Okay, thank you.”

The moment the heavy doors close behind you, all the noise from the street and the club completely vanishes. Jiyong presses a button and the black leather partition slowly rises, cutting you off entirely from the driver. The back of the vehicle is filled with an intimate, muted darkness, lit only by a blue LED strip on the ceiling and the occasional flash of streetlights from the outside. The car smoothly pulls away.

“So, what you said back there...in front of everyone...” he begins without warning, as if he’s talking about something as ordinary as the weather, but his voice is deep, far too serious, and raspy from the amount of alcohol he had at the club. “...you actually meant that?”

You turn your head toward him, resting it against the leather headrest as you look directly into his eyes. The alcohol is still rushing through your veins, giving you a surge of courage and raw honesty you probably wouldn’t find if you were sober. “Yeah, it’s exactly what I said... For most girls, sex ends up feeling like a performance you just have to endure when the guy simply doesn’t know what he’s doing. And especially for me... It takes me forever to come. My mind just won’t switch off. I keep thinking about a thousand different things, and the second I notice the guy is getting impatient, I panic because I feel like I'm just wasting his time. So I’d rather put on a show and pretend I came. It’s just easier...”

Jiyong watches you silently with his brows slightly furrowed. His eyes study your face, your lips, as if he’s trying to find the answer to a question he hasn’t asked yet somewhere in your expression, but you already know exactly where this interrogation is heading. Then his voice drops even lower, a whole octave deeper. “And what about that night with me? At your apartment... Were you faking it then too? You didn’t come?”

For a moment, it feels like all the oxygen vanishes from the car...

You bite your bottom lip and look out the window for a second, watching the concrete walls of the bridge over the Han River rush past before you finally find the courage to look back at him. “I didn’t come with you either, Jiyong... It was great, seriously, but I just...couldn’t let go. So I did what I always do...”

You see Jiyong freeze for a second, as if he’s just taken a sucker punch straight to the gut. His ego, his reputation as a flawless lover, the alpha male inside him, all of it takes a brutal hit for a moment. You watch his profile as he clenches his jaw, the muscle ticking visibly in his cheek. It lasts for several seconds before he briefly turns his gaze back to you, gives a small smile, and nods slightly. Then he reaches forward and taps a finger against the partition in front of him, and when it lowers a few inches, he speaks to the driver.

“Change of plans, we’re not going to Y/N’s. Take us straight to my place,” he says calmly, and the driver turns his head slightly to the side, giving a small nod without changing his expression.

You laugh tiredly, half-drunkenly, and nudge his shoulder with yours. “What the hell are you doing, Jiyong? I’m tired, I need to go home, I need to sleep and—”

“My ego is bleeding,” he turns toward you, leaning as close as his seat belt allows. His face is only a few inches away from yours now, and you can feel his hot breath against your lips. “I need to right a wrong from the past immediately and prove to you that you are right about a lot of men, but I’m definitely not one of them...”

Your breathing quickens as the car sharply changes direction, heading toward the upscale hills of Hannam-dong. The tone of his voice leaves no room for argument, and honestly, you don’t want to argue anyway. For the rest of the drive, Jiyong keeps his hand wrapped around your wrist, his thumb lazily brushing over the pulsing vein beneath your skin while his eyes watch you through the darkness of the car.

𖡎𖡎𖡎

When the massive doors of his luxurious penthouse in Hannam-dong close behind you, the atmosphere between the two of you feels completely different from six months ago. Back then, it was a quick, alcohol-fueled impulse, a moment where neither of you really thought about what you were doing or what it would mean the next morning. Now, it feels like a clear, deliberate intention. The tension that has been building between you all evening tightens around you with the quiet click of the lock, and Jiyong leaves you no room to doubt exactly why he brought you here.

In the enormous living room, where the glowing Seoul skyline stretches out behind the glass walls, Jiyong wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against him, placing both hands on your cheeks and kissing you with such tenderness that your knees nearly give out beneath you. His lips are soft and warm, and Jiyong kisses you calmly, deeply, as if he has all the time in the world and wants to prove it to you from the very first moment you step inside his penthouse.

His tongue lazily runs along your bottom lip before slipping inside, and you instinctively press yourself closer to him. You feel his hands on your waist, moving in slow circles over your hips before gradually sliding down across the small of your back to your backside.

When he pulls away after several endlessly long minutes, both of you are breathing a little faster. Jiyong silently takes your hand and leads you into the bedroom, dominated by a huge bed. He turns on only the lamp standing in the corner of the room, its warm light casting long shadows of your figures across the walls. You feel as though you’re traveling back into the past because this is exactly how it started six months ago, as if history that was never supposed to repeat itself is repeating anyway…

Jiyong slowly guides you backward toward the bed before leaning down to kiss you again. His lips touch your neck while his hands begin removing the clothes you’re wearing. He takes every piece off without a single hesitation, but without rushing either. Your top falls to the floor, followed by your bra, and his gaze travels down your bare chest as it rises and falls quickly, spreading heat all the way to your cheeks. Jiyong doesn’t give you even a second to think about how embarrassed you feel because he kneels down in front of you. His hands close firmly around your hips, his palms slowly moving toward the fastening of your skirt, which he opens with one practiced movement, letting it fall freely to the floor.

His palms move down to your ankles. His touch is unbelievably gentle and his gaze into your eyes so intense that you have to close yours for a moment, trying to calm your frantic breathing. You feel his hands slowly moving up from there, over your calves, all the way to the backs of your thighs.

“You’re still so tense...let go for me, baby,” he murmurs before pressing his lips to the inside of your thigh. You suck in a broken breath when his fingers slide across the soaked fabric of your panties. Your eyes stay tightly shut the entire time as you try to control your frantic breathing, trying to stop thinking about how your heart feels like it’s about to jump out of your chest with how violently it’s beating.

His fingers hook into the waistband of your panties and he slowly starts pulling them down. For a moment, you stop breathing when you feel his breath against the inside of your thigh again, dangerously close to your pussy. Jiyong finally rises to kiss you again, gently lowering you onto the bed.

His body towers over yours, still fully dressed, strands of his hair falling into his face as he leans above you.

“Maybe... maybe you could take your clothes off too,” you breathe impatiently, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

“Maybe?” Jiyong asks, amused. “Are you getting impatient?”

“I am...”

“And didn’t you just say that impatience is a bad quality in men?”

“Ah, shut up, Jiyong!” you answer indignantly, but you can’t hold back the smile that at least partly washes away your nervousness, which is clearly exactly what he is trying to do. After a moment, Jiyong settles between your thighs and starts undoing the buttons of his shirt, slowly, one by one...

The moment you see his bare chest, you remember what it was like to touch him, how soft and warm his skin felt, and how badly you want to touch it again. While you’re lost in your thoughts, Jiyong strips out of his jeans and boxers before settling back on the mattress between your thighs.

“I want to taste you...” Jiyong says, his gaze sliding lower over your stomach, which tightens nervously beneath his intense stare. Every touch as he leans toward you again feels just as intense as it did six months ago. You instinctively squeeze your knees together, feeling heat rushing into your cheeks.

“Seriously? Now you’re getting shy in front of me?” he asks with a smile, raising one eyebrow in amusement. His palms rest on your knees.

“Yeah...” you breathe, but you still can’t find the courage to look directly into his eyes. “No one’s ever eaten me out before and...God, this is embarrassing,” you press your palms over your face when you realize how awful the whole thing sounds when you actually say it out loud in front of him.

“Then you’ve been missing out on a lot, but...everything has to happen for the first time eventually, right? And we trust each other...” Jiyong whispers, and you finally stop hiding your face behind your hands, swallowing loudly. You trust Jiyong, you’ve always trusted him, even now when the rational part of your brain is telling you that this entire night is a very bad idea...

You can’t manage any words, so you just nod. Your permission is enough for Jiyong to gently press against your knees and spread your legs apart. When he looks at your pussy, he can see you’re already unbelievably wet, glistening beneath the warm, dim light of the lamp. Jiyong doesn’t rush, knowing exactly how much your mind needs more than simple touches and kisses right now. Your mind needs absolute certainty, certainty that time isn’t your enemy, and he isn’t in a hurry.

The last thing you see before squeezing your eyes shut and tilting your head back is his gaze, and the way his tongue slips out, dragging the broad flat of it over your clit. Your whole body jerks unexpectedly against the soft mattress, your fingers instinctively clenching into the sheets as you let out a moan. Jiyong starts lazily circling his tongue around your clit, changing the pressure and occasionally sucking gently, until you almost lose track of where his lips and tongue end and where your own body begins.

When he sees your breathing turn ragged and your hips start lifting toward his face on their own, he slides two long fingers inside you. They feel unbelievably hot, slowly curling and pressing against that sweet spot while his tongue works over you with perfect precision. The small circles of his tongue around your swollen clit and the rhythm of his fingers make your breathing and moans quicken. It feels perfect, actually the best thing you’ve ever experienced in your life, but your mind starts that annoying inner monologue that’s followed you through your entire sex life...

It’s already taking way too long... He’s definitely bored... He must be getting tired... I should probably start moaning a little louder, arch my back a little more, and put on a show so he can finally fuck me, come, and then we can just go to sleep...

“You’re overthinking again,” he says quietly, interrupting the flow of your thoughts. “Y/N, look at me... Do you trust me?”

You open your eyes and look at Jiyong, who’s still kneeling between your thighs, his mouth wet with your arousal. His eyes are focused only on you and he definitely doesn’t look bored, looking more like he’s trying to understand what exactly is stopping you from letting go and completely losing control.

“I trust you,” you whisper breathlessly.

Jiyong smiles slightly, looking down toward your hips and then back into your eyes. “I have a better idea to help that clever head of yours completely switch off for a while. Sit on my face...”

“No!” you blurt out instinctively, immediately shaking your head.

“No?” Jiyong raises one eyebrow in amusement. “Why? Because you don’t want to, or because you’re just shy, baby?”

“I am shy,” you admit quietly, heat flooding your face so intensely you feel like you might actually burn alive. You have to admit to yourself that the second Jiyong said it, you pictured it, a wave of arousal rushing through your entire body, but there’s still a wall stopping you from giving in. “I'm just so shy and... God, Jiyong, I don’t know. I’m scared I’ll... I’ll suffocate you or something...”

Jiyong throws his head back, laughing deeply. You genuinely wonder if there’s anything about this man that isn’t sexy.

“Suffocate me? Trust me, dying between your thighs while you grind on my face...that would be the fucking best and most stylish death possible!”

His words make you laugh unexpectedly. The heavy anxiety squeezing your chest and forcing you to overthink every passing second suddenly loosens a little, lightening the atmosphere in the bedroom, at least for a moment. Jiyong immediately takes advantage of it, smoothly shifting until he’s lying flat on his back on the mattress. He reaches toward you, catching your wrist and gently pulling you closer, that captivating smile still playing on his lips.

“Come on...come here. It’ll be better than watching a movie, I promise,” he murmurs, pulling you closer to press his lips against yours. You can’t stop the small smile spreading across your face, knowing that little reference to the movie is exactly the kind of detail Jiyong would remember.

“Sit on my face…please,” he whispers right against your lips before pulling away and resting his head back against the pillow.

Slowly, but much more confidently now, you climb over him. You kneel astride his head, your knees resting on the mattress while your swollen, completely soaked pussy is hovering only a few inches above his lips. This is the exact moment you realize just how nervous you are and, at the same time, how badly you want Jiyong’s mouth. It’s an endless battle in your mind, a barrier that always surfaces whenever you have to cross a boundary. This threshold is incredibly tempting, you want so badly to experience something new, but something still holds you back from completely surrendering to Jiyong. Your hips remain slightly tense, the muscles in your legs tight as you refuse to drop your weight onto his face.

Jiyong immediately senses your hesitation. He places his warm palms low on your hips, his long fingers slowly running down your thighs before traveling back upward again. His touch sends waves of soothing heat through your body, making the muscles in your legs tighten even more for a moment. Summoning the last of your nerve, you look down at his face beneath you. You inhale shakily because from this angle, he looks absolutely flawless. His hair is slightly messy and his eyes watch you with complete devotion, as if he’s giving you all the courage you’re missing, asking only for your absolute trust in return.

“Lower...” his raspy voice whispers, immediately sending goosebumps across your skin. “Lower, baby...spread your legs more for me. Get closer to me, let go and trust me...”

You suck in a shaky breath, finally giving in to the touch of his hands on your hips as he gently guides you lower, and you slowly sink down. Jiyong gently pulls you even closer to his face, running his warm tongue through your wet folds for the first time. Your lips part in a silent gasp before a loud moan escapes you as you tilt your head back and close your eyes. The sensation is completely paralyzing. It feels entirely different from when he ate you out a few minutes ago because now, even in the darkness behind your lids, you can’t shake the image of his gaze and his messy hair, along with the strange feeling that in some twisted way, you’re the one controlling this entire situation.

Jiyong doesn’t waste a second, immediately parting his lips wider as his warm tongue slips deep inside you, making your eyes fly open while your hands clench into fists. Then, his tongue moves straight back to your swollen clit, flicking rapidly from side to side as a deep groan vibrates from his throat and straight through your entire body.

“God, Jiyong...” you moan as your hands immediately move down to his. You place your hands over his, pressing them firmly against your hips as you search for anything to keep you grounded. For a second, you lower your head and look down at him. Through the mess of your hair, you realize that Jiyong’s eyes are wide open, watching you the entire time. Watching the way your face twists with pure pleasure, your parted lips, and the heavy rise and fall of your chest.

When he sees your expression completely undone by desire and your parted lips, he immediately adjusts the movements of his tongue and mouth. He starts sucking your clit hard between his lips, pulling you closer with his hands as the flicking of his tongue becomes so intense that you immediately have to close your eyes again and moan loudly.

With Jiyong holding your hips and your hands pressed over his, you can finally lazily and smoothly grind against his face. You start circling your hips slowly at first, using the rhythm to explore just how far you can go.

Jiyong immediately catches onto your movements, tightening his grip on your hips. “Yeah, that’s it, grind on me, I’m here to serve you, baby...use me,” he groans against your clit, and you push your hips eagerly into his mouth. The lazy rolling of your hips turns into a messy rhythm of grinding and circling against his mouth. Jiyong drags his tongue in one long stroke from your entrance all the way up your wet folds. Over and over until his lips wrap around your clit once more, his tongue flicking against your swollen clit in a frantic, rapid rhythm.

“Ah... Jiyong...God, that’s...that’s so good...” slips from your lips without you even thinking about it.

His satisfied, deep groan mixes with your long moans. Jiyong is clearly completely pleased with how much you’re finally taking this for yourself and how wildly you’re rolling your hips above him, groaning approvingly against your clit, sending another wave of pleasure through your entire body. When he hears your breathing becoming faster and faster and your moans growing louder, his hands dig more firmly into your hips. He starts running his hands over your thighs and ass, relentlessly pulling you even closer and tighter against his mouth while speeding up the movements of his tongue.

“You’re such a good girl for me...exactly like that...you’re fucking incredible,” he murmurs against your skin between deep strokes of his tongue, and you can feel exactly how much your honest reactions are driving him on.

For the first time in your life, your brain doesn’t have time to think about stupid things, only about your own pleasure and your desperate chase for an orgasm, and you’re closer than you’ve ever been with any other man... The heat in your lower stomach tightens into one single point, and now you can’t think about anything except Jiyong’s hot breath, the vibrations of his voice, and the unbelievable friction driving you insane.

You’re shaking so hard that the muscles in your legs go completely weak. Jiyong senses it, tightening his grip around your hips even more, his fingers sliding beneath your ass to keep you pinned as close to his mouth as possible while his tongue speeds up into perfectly synchronized, hard flicking strokes.

“Ji... Jiyong, I can’t... I’m gonna lose my mind...” you moan loudly when you feel yourself getting incredibly close to coming. Your face is twisted with pleasure and you can’t control the movement of your hips anymore, grinding against Jiyong in messy, desperate motions.

“Let me feel you come, make my face wetter, baby...” he growls hoarsely against your oversensitive clit at the exact moment your orgasm hits, crashing through your body like an uncontrollable tsunami. Your whole body tenses above his face, your inner muscles clenching wildly around nothing as a loud, completely genuine cry tears from your throat, immediately breaking into a deep, ragged sob while you desperately try to catch your breath.

Your entire body shakes, your hips twitching uncontrollably against his nose and mouth while helpless sounds of the deepest pleasure you’ve ever experienced keep spilling from your throat. Your face changes completely in that overwhelming rush of pleasure, finally free of every worry...

Jiyong doesn’t let you go, firmly holding your hips as he drinks you in, taking every wave of your orgasm until even the final tremor fades from your body. Only when you go completely spent, tiredly collapsing beside his head onto the pillows, does Jiyong immediately turn you over and pull you against his chest. You’re sweaty, exhausted, and you hide your face against his neck. The feeling of absolute release is so intense you feel as though the world is blurring around you. Every muscle in your body feels heavy, but your mind is clear, relaxed, and impossibly blissful.

Jiyong licks his lips before shifting closer to you, wrapping his arms tightly around you, pulling the huge duvet over both of you and lazily kissing your neck.

“So...” he says after a moment, his eyes studying every inch of your face. “...how was it, Y/N? Still think you should’ve stayed home and watched a movie?”

You blush even though Jiyong can barely see it in the darkness. With a warm, completely satisfied smile on your lips, you immediately hide your face behind your hands, as if you can somehow hide the avalanche of emotions crashing inside you, only now fully realizing what just happened...

“God...what the hell did we just do?” you whisper through your fingers, but there isn’t even a trace of your earlier fear or regret in your voice. You feel completely satisfied, flooded with the purest kind of relief and a little disbelieving amusement. Exhausted, you rest your head against his shoulder.

Jiyong gently pries your fingers apart, pulling your hands away from your face before pressing his lips to your forehead, then the tip of your nose, and finally kissing you slowly on the lips. You can taste yourself on him, and right now, it doesn’t feel like something you should be ashamed of, but something that convinces you that it really happened, that it was the most intense thing you’ve ever experienced with a man.

“We did exactly what should’ve happened six months ago,” Jiyong murmurs hoarsely, his hand lazily stroking your bare back. His touch soothes you, chasing the last traces of shyness into the dark and replacing them with a warm sense of safety. “The look on your face when you came, when you stopped controlling yourself and just enjoyed every second of it... God, that was the most fucking hot and beautiful thing I've ever seen. I could watch you like that for hours... I think we need a lot of practice to make up for everything you’ve missed out on... And we’ll start tomorrow.”

You lift your head slightly from his shoulder, your eyes meeting his in the darkness of the bedroom as a teasing smile settles on your lips. “Not until tomorrow?” you ask quietly.

Jiyong laughs, and the sound immediately travels through your entire body. He pulls you even closer until your hip bumps directly against his lap. “We can start right now, baby...” he whispers with an unbelievably cocky glint in his eyes before rolling you underneath him, settling between your thighs. He rolls his hips, pressing his hard cock directly against you. “...you just have to help me with this first…”

Instead, you’re surrounded by the absolute, grave-like silence of an empty apartment. The air in the bedroom is cold, ordinary, and painfully insignificant. Jiyong is gone. He has vanished so completely that it almost feels as though he never existed, as though the weeks filled with miracles, the touch of scarred feathers, and that one desperate, endless kiss were nothing more than an elaborate hallucination created by your wounded mind after the accident. Still, you refuse to give up...

You sit upright in bed, pull the blanket tightly up to your chin, and look toward the empty corner of the room where he used to stand in the evenings. Your lips move weakly, and for the first time, you speak directly into the unbearable emptiness. “Good morning,” you whisper, your voice sounding foreign and fragile inside the silence. “Are you here, Jiyong? Can you hear me?”

No one answers. No deep, velvet voice enters your mind, and no familiar silhouette forms in the shadows of the hallway. There’s only the undeniable reality of the human world, a world in which you are completely alone. But you refuse to believe that he’s abandoned you entirely. You remember what he told you before midnight, how he’d rather spend the rest of your life standing invisibly one step behind you than risk becoming a man who no longer remembers your name.

So you begin talking to him every day. It becomes your new secret ritual, the fragile anchor keeping you from drowning in the emptiness he left behind.

You speak to him while making your morning coffee, while sitting at the kitchen table and forcing yourself to concentrate on your notes, and every evening before switching off the lamp beside your bed. You tell him the simplest and most painful things.

“Are you here?”

“It’s so cold outside today, Jiyong.”

“I miss you...”

You have no scientific or logical way to prove that he can hear you, no evidence that your voice can pass through the impenetrable veil between your worlds, but your heart believes it with stubborn, desperate certainty. Believing he’s still somewhere close is the only thing preventing the silence from ripping away what remains of your sanity.

Sometimes, in the moments when you least expect it, you feel something faint and fleeting. A brief warmth settles over your right shoulder when you lower your exhausted head over your work. The air moves gently through your hair as though invisible fingers carefully pushed it away from your forehead. Once, while you stand beside the window watching rain slide down the glass and turn the street below into a blurred painting of gray light, a soft pressure touches the center of your back, warm enough to make your breath catch.

Every time, you turn around instinctively, but there’s nothing behind you. The feeling is never strong enough or tangible enough to offer complete certainty. Eventually, you hide your face inside your hands and wonder whether it’s only a psychosomatic response, the memory of your own body projecting Jiyong’s celestial warmth into reality because your skin remembers him too deeply to accept his absence... You remain trapped within that bittersweet uncertainty, but you never stop speaking. Your words are the final thread still connecting you to him.

The weeks pass in a swift, merciless rhythm, and step by painful step, you return to the ordinary, successful life you were building before the accident. You no longer spend entire days trapped inside the gray fog of isolation. You fight! Every morning becomes another small battle against the trauma still hiding beneath your skin, and you continue winning because you believe someone is watching over you, standing one step behind you. You imagine how proud Jiyong would be each time you move forward, and the thought gives you strength on the days when your own strength fails you…

Exactly three weeks after his disappearance, your phone rings while you’re sitting alone in the kitchen. The number glowing on the screen belongs to the recruitment manager from the enormous glass building where you endured the most demanding interview of your life. You answer with a trembling hand, and a pleasant, professional voice tells you with unmistakable warmth that the selection panel has chosen you. The position you wanted, the one you’d been too frightened to believe you could ever earn, is yours...

When the call ends, you place the phone slowly on the table and remain frozen for a moment before pure, unrestrained happiness bursts through your chest. It’s the first genuine victory you’ve felt in months. Your instinct is immediate. You turn toward the empty space beside the kitchen counter, your face breaking into a wide, tearful smile as you speak without thinking.

“I did it,” you breathe, your voice shaking with emotion. “I really did it, Jiyong. You were right. I was strong enough to walk into that room alone. I wish you could tell me you’re proud of me.” The room falls strangely still. You look toward the window as the heavy curtain hanging beside the glass moves slowly into the room, even though the window is shut tight and there’s no draft inside the apartment. At the same moment, a sudden, intense warmth flows through the palm of your right hand, spreading through your fingers before disappearing almost as quickly as it came. Your mouth falls open in shock. A single tear of relief spills down your cheek as you press your hand against your chest. “You heard me,” you whisper. “I knew you did...”

Two months later, you return home from your new job carrying a story you can’t wait to tell him. The moment you step into the hallway, you start talking about an absurdly embarrassing mistake your colleague made during a presentation. You walk through the apartment, gesturing wildly toward the empty space beside you as though Jiyong is leaning against the kitchen counter, listening with that quiet, attentive expression he always wore when you spoke. By the time you reach the end of the story, you’re laughing so loudly and honestly that the sound fills every corner of the apartment. Then you stop in the middle of the living room. The weight of reality settles over you. You’re standing alone in an empty apartment, laughing toward the invisible presence of an angel who hasn’t answered you once in months….

But this time, the realization doesn’t destroy you. It doesn’t throw you back into a panic attack or make you question whether everything happened only inside your mind. A quiet, peaceful smile settles on your lips instead. You’re still sharing your life with him. Jiyong isn’t dead, forgotten, or reduced to a story you invented to survive. He remains part of you, a silent companion who receives every small joy and ordinary story even if you can no longer hear his response. You’ve learned how to live with that bittersweet presence, and the belief gives you a strength you never knew you possessed. The human mind, however, isn’t a machine that can be permanently healed by professional success or a few peaceful weeks. The trauma of the accident and the loss of Jiyong’s visible presence remain beneath the surface of your life like powerful underground currents. Sometimes the water appears calm, but exhaustion, cold weather, or the smallest unexpected sound can force the darkness upward with its full destructive strength…

The worst night arrives in the middle of a freezing November storm. Rain lashes the windows with violent force, and the wind howling through the chimney sounds too much like the night your car left the road in the forest. Within hours, your condition deteriorates. Every fear and fragment of tension you’ve been forcing beneath the surface for months rises at once. Anxiety tightens around your chest until you can barely breathe. Crying and trembling uncontrollably, you flee into the bedroom, curl into a tight ball beneath the blanket, and bury your face in the pillow. You feel weak, broken, and unbearably tired of fighting the same invisible battle. You speak to Jiyong again, but this time your voice contains none of the calm hope or excitement you usually force into your words. It’s the desperate cry of someone who no longer knows how to keep moving.

“Jiyong...please,” you sob into the darkness beneath the blanket as tears soak the pillow. “I can’t do this anymore. Everything hurts. Every part of my body, every thought inside my head... I’m terrified that I’ll never feel completely safe again. I’m scared this fear will never leave me and that I’ll never recover from what happened. I need you, Jiyong. I need to hear your voice so badly right now. Just one word. Please...don’t leave me alone in this. Say something to me.”

No answer comes. The room remains filled with the same cold, relentless silence of the human world, broken only by the storm raging beyond the windows. You continue crying until your body has no strength left, and eventually you lie motionless with your eyes open, staring into the darkness.

Then, precisely when you feel yourself surrender completely, something changes. The mattress behind your back dips so slightly that you can’t tell whether it truly moved or whether exhaustion created the illusion. A second later, a deep, familiar warmth touches your hair. It feels like an invisible hand moving with infinite tenderness over your head, brushing the damp strands away from your temple and following the path of one final tear down your cheek.

Your lips part in shock. The phantom touch is so familiar and deeply comforting that your breathing begins to slow. The anxiety doesn’t disappear all at once, and the pain remains inside you, but it no longer feels as though you’re carrying it entirely alone. Your body gradually stops trembling. With the absolute trust of someone following an instinct older than conscious thought, you shift backward across the mattress and press your back against the empty warmth behind you.

It feels almost like lying in his invisible arms. No one can be seen in the room, but the familiar safety settles around you, helping your lungs remember to breathe. You close your exhausted eyes and allow the warmth to cradle you until, little by little, sleep finally carries you away. You fall asleep believing that your angel has kept his promise and that he’ll never truly leave you…

[3rd person POV]

Jiyong hears every word. He hears her every morning when she whispers good morning toward the empty kitchen. He hears the quiet questions she asks while pouring coffee, the stories she tells him after work, and the soft good nights she sends into the darkness before sleep. He remains exactly where he promised he would be, one step behind her, invisible, untouchable, and condemned to silence.

At first, he tells himself that this is enough. He has kept his memories. He remembers every year of her life, every expression that has crossed her face, every time he stood beside her without permission to be seen. He remembers the warmth of her mouth against his, the desperate strength of her arms around him, and the way her body felt protected inside his wings. To be stripped of the ability to speak or touch her was unbearable, but forgetting her would have been worse. He repeats that truth to himself until it begins to sound like a prayer.

But with every passing day, his certainty weakens…

He watches Y/N enter the apartment and immediately turn toward the empty space where she believes he’s standing. He listens as she tells him about the smallest details of her day, subconsciously leaving pauses after each sentence, as though some part of her still expects his voice to answer. Jiyong always knows exactly what he would say. He knows when he’d laugh, when he’d tease her gently, when he’d tell her that she did well, and when he’d simply move closer and place his hand over hers. The answers exist inside him with painful clarity, but the laws binding his invisible form prevent even one of them from reaching her.

He’s there when the recruitment manager calls. He sees the disbelief on Y/N’s face turn into joy, watches her lips spread into a tearful smile, and hears her say that she wishes he could tell her he is proud. He tries. He forces every fragment of celestial strength he still possesses toward the barrier around his voice, but no sound enters the room. All he can do is allow a faint trace of warmth to pass through her hand and move the curtain beside the window with the smallest breath of his remaining power.

“I’m so proud of you…” he says, though the words never reach her.

When she presses her warm hand against her chest and smiles toward the empty room, Jiyong feels something inside his eternal existence beginning to crack.

He watches her laugh alone two months later, her hands gesturing wildly as she tells him a story he would’ve loved to answer with one of his quiet, amused comments. He stands beside the kitchen counter exactly where she imagines him, listening to every word, and for a few precious moments, the happiness in her voice makes him believe that this strange imitation of a shared life might truly be enough.

Then she stops laughing. Her eyes move toward the place where he stands, though she can’t see him. The smile remains on her lips, but Jiyong sees the sadness slowly entering it, softening its edges and welling up in her eyes. She’s trying to accept the silence. She’s trying to convince herself that knowing he’s near should be enough, even when every human part of her still longs for an answer.

“I know you’re here, even if you can’t answer me,” she whispers. Her voice trembles, but she forces the smile to remain. “You are here, aren’t you?”

Jiyong tries to speak… He tries with every fragment of celestial strength left inside him. Her name forms inside his thoughts, rises toward his throat, and breaks against the invisible barrier that imprisons his voice. No sound reaches the room. He can’t tell her that he’s standing directly in front of her. He can’t tell her that he hears every word, that he is proud of her, or that he’d give anything to touch the tears gathering beneath her lashes.

Y/N waits for several long seconds before nodding faintly to herself. “I know…” she whispers again, though this time her voice sounds as though she’s trying to convince her own breaking heart. “…I know you’re here.”

She turns away, and Jiyong sees the tear slip down her cheek. That single tear wounds him more deeply than the destruction of his wings ever did.

For the first time, he understands the full cruelty of the choice he made. He believed he’d sacrificed everything by remaining invisible beside her, but he’d preserved the one thing he couldn’t bear to lose. His memories... He’d protected himself from the terror of forgetting while condemning her to spend her life speaking into an empty room, forever uncertain whether the man she loved still heard her.

He watches her laugh alone. He observes the way she turns instinctively whenever she feels warmth against her shoulder and he sees her fall silent in the middle of stories because there is no voice to carry the conversation forward. Every moment he remains beside her offers comfort, but it also keeps her waiting for something he can never provide. His presence has become both shelter and wound…

The November storm finally destroys what remains of his certainty. He sits beside her on the bed while she cries beneath the blanket and begs him for a single word. Her desperate voice rips through him, each plea reaching the part of his soul that still remembers how she felt inside his arms. He lowers himself onto the mattress behind her, allows the smallest trace of his warmth to reach her trembling body, and runs his invisible hand through her hair even though she can never truly feel his fingers.

She shifts closer to him, places her trust in an embrace that can’t hold her. Jiyong remains beside her until she falls asleep, watching the exhaustion gradually soften her face. He understands then that this cannot continue. Not for another month, not for another year, certainly not for the rest of her human life…

He’d rather forget every moment of loving her than remain beside her forever and turn that love into the reason she could never fully move forward. He’d rather wake somewhere in the human world with no knowledge of her name than watch her spend an entire lifetime hoping that one day the silence might answer. If forgetting her is the only path that could ever make him someone permitted to speak when she speaks, touch her when she reaches for him, and choose her without Heaven dividing them, then even his most precious memories must be surrendered.

The human path has remained available to him, but not as a mercy and not without consequence. Returning to Heaven restored him to his former invisible existence, but any angel may renounce that existence once, permanently and without the possibility of return. The price remains exactly as cruel as it was on the night he disappeared from Y/N’s arms. His immortality, his wings, his power, and every memory belonging to his celestial life will be taken. Heaven offers no guarantee of where his mortal life will begin. It provides no promise that he’ll find her, recognize her, or ever walk through the same city. He could awaken on the other side of the world and grow old without ever knowing what he sacrificed.

The risk is no smaller now, but Jiyong accepts it anyway…

He stands beside Y/N one final time while she sleeps, her face peaceful beneath the faint light entering through the curtains. He reaches toward her but stops before his invisible fingers can touch her cheek. For centuries, he believed that loving her meant remembering every version of her forever. Now he understands that love may also mean releasing every memory he has guarded more fiercely than eternity…

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, though the words never enter the human room. “I’d rather lose you once than remain beside you and make you lose me every day...”

He steps forward into the unknown without allowing himself to look back. There is no violent rebellion, no shattered celestial gate, and no final battle against Heaven. Jiyong simply unfolds his damaged wings for the last time and chooses to surrender them. The white feathers begin dissolving from their tips, each one carrying away part of the existence he has known for centuries. His immortality leaves him first, then his power…then the memories begin to slip away…

He forgets the first time he felt her fear beneath a childhood blanket. He forgets the fourteen-year-old girl crying alone on the bathroom floor. He forgets the quiet mornings when he stood beside her unseen and the countless evenings when he watched her fall asleep. He forgets the forest, the wreckage, the platform, and the warmth of her body held inside his wings.

Her face remains until the very end…

For one final moment, Jiyong sees her exactly as she looked before midnight, tearful and desperate, her fingers buried in his hair and her lips still swollen from his kiss. He remembers the feeling of her body protected beneath his feathers. He remembers her voice begging him to choose humanity, even though neither of them knew whether that choice would ever lead him back to her.

Then Heaven takes her name…

Jiyong falls into the human world carrying nothing but a mortal heartbeat and the faint, inexplicable feeling that somewhere beneath the same sky, something essential is missing.

[2nd person POV]

You know none of this. To you, the gradual disappearance of his warmth means only that Jiyong withdraws deeper into the invisible distance separating your worlds. You continue speaking to him even as the signs of his presence become less frequent. By the beginning of winter, the warmth on your shoulder comes only rarely. By spring, the air no longer moves through your hair and the mattress never seems to dip beneath an invisible weight. Eventually, the apartment becomes completely ordinary again.

Still, you don’t stop talking to him. Every morning, you still whisper, Good morning, Jiyong, toward the empty kitchen. Every evening, you send your thoughts into the darkness before sleep. The ritual is no longer held together by desperate certainty. It has become an act of love and remembrance, a quiet way of honoring the being who destroyed his own celestial existence to keep you alive.

The seasons continue changing. Winter loosens its grip, spring returns color to the city, and summer passes in a blur of work, warm evenings, and the slow reconstruction of an ordinary life. You become stronger without becoming unscarred. The accident remains part of you, and so does Jiyong. You no longer expect to turn around and see him, but there are still moments when the memory of white feathers closing around your body is so vivid that your skin aches in their absence.

𐃬𐃬𐃬𐃬𐃬𐃬𐃬𐃬

Exactly one year after the night he vanished from your arms, autumn returns… The day is cold, dark, and drenched in relentless rain. Water runs in silver streams along the pavement, umbrellas collide above crowded sidewalks, and people hurry through the streets with their faces hidden inside raised collars. You’ve spent the afternoon walking farther than you intended, and by the time the rain soaks through the shoulders of your coat, you abandon every other plan and hurry toward the first warm light you see.

The café is unfamiliar. You’ve never noticed it before, though it stands just a short distance from a street you’ve walked countless times. You push open the door simply to escape the rain, and a small bell rings above your head as warmth, yellow light, and the rich scent of coffee and cinnamon envelope you.

The place is completely full. Every small table is occupied by people hiding from the storm, their wet coats hanging over chairs and colorful umbrellas leaning against the walls.

Quiet music plays beneath the layered sound of conversation, clinking porcelain, and rain lashing the large windows. You remain near the entrance for a moment, brushing water from your sleeves and wondering whether you should leave again despite the weather.

Then you hear him laugh…

The sound reaches you through the crowded room with impossible clarity. Deep, slightly rough, melodic, and warm, it cuts through every other voice as though the entire café has suddenly fallen silent around it. Every muscle in your body freezes. Your heart misses one long, painful beat, and the strap of your bag nearly slips from your trembling fingers. You know that laugh before your mind can understand why hearing it is impossible. Slowly, with your breath trapped deep in your throat, you turn toward the sound.

Jiyong is sitting alone at a small table beside the window, one hand loosely wrapped around a cup of coffee while the other holds a phone against his ear. He’s listening to someone on the other end of the call, his head tilted slightly as another quiet laugh escapes him. His light hair is damp from the rain, several loose strands falling untidily across his forehead. He wears a dark sweater with the sleeves pushed carelessly toward his elbows, ordinary jeans, and shoes still wet from the street.

There is no white light beneath his skin, no shadow of wings stretches behind his chair. His sharply defined features are still pale, but there is color beneath his skin now, blood moving through living veins and warmth created by an entirely human body. His fingers leave a faint print against the ceramic cup and his chest rises with every breath. He’s alive... Loud, imperfect, relaxed, and undeniably human.

You can’t move. For several endless seconds, you simply stare at him from across the crowded café. Your eyes follow every familiar detail with desperate disbelief. The curve of the lips that once kissed you as though they were trying to hold back eternity. The shape of the hands that protected your face while his body disappeared from your arms. The narrow shoulders from which snow-white wings once unfolded. The dark eyes that knew every secret, every fear, and every version of you before you ever learned his name…

But there’s something new inside him too. The ancient sorrow is gone. The weight of centuries of obedience no longer darkens his expression, and no celestial distance hides behind his smile. His movements are lighter, more spontaneous, and almost boyishly careless. When the person on the phone says something else, a mischievous spark flashes through his entirely human eyes, and he laughs again without any trace of guilt for the sound.

He looks happy… The realization pierces your chest so sharply that it almost hurts.

Jiyong says a final few words into the phone, still smiling, and ends the call. He places the device beside his coffee, then lifts the cup toward his mouth. Before he can drink, some instinct warns him that he is being watched. His gaze rises from the table and moves across the café and then his eyes find yours…

The moment stretches and the cup stops halfway to his lips. His expression changes, the easy amusement slowly fading as he looks at the unknown woman standing near the entrance with rain on her coat and absolute shock written across her face. You wait for recognition, some impossible part of you expects his pupils to widen with ancient memory, expects him to stand and say your name with the same broken tenderness he carried into midnight.

Nothing happens... His eyes remain politely, sincerely confused.

The truth pierces you without mercy. He chose the human life…he surrendered his wings, his immortality, and every memory that connected him to you. He’s sitting only a few meters away, alive and breathing, but the man who once knew you better than you knew yourself no longer recognizes your face…

Still unable to look away, you begin walking toward him. Every step through the crowded café requires more strength than the one before it. People shift around you, waiters carry trays past your shoulder, and rain continues lashing the windows, but none of it feels real. The entire world has narrowed to the man watching your approach with growing curiosity.

When you finally stop beside his table, Jiyong lifts his face toward you. Up close, the reality of his humanity is even more overwhelming. There are faint shadows of tiredness beneath his eyes. A small drop of rain remains near his temple. His breathing changes slightly as he studies you, and you see the exact moment simple confusion gives way to unmistakable interest.

“Jiyong?” you breathe. His name leaves your lips so quietly that it nearly disappears beneath the noise of the café, but he hears it.

Jiyong becomes very still and surprise passes across his face, followed by a brief, instinctive uncertainty. He glances over one shoulder and then the other, searching the crowded room as though he expects to find someone else behind him, someone your voice is truly meant to reach. No one reacts, no one else is looking at you.

His gaze returns slowly to your face. “I’m sorry,” he says, genuine confusion softening his deep, human voice. “Do we know each other?”

The sound of him speaking directly to you after an entire year of silence almost breaks something inside your chest. His eyes contain no recognition, no hidden trace of the angel who once watched your entire life from the shadows. Yet he continues to look at you with an intensity that feels strangely familiar, as though some part of him has noticed you, even if his memory has not.

Your human mind races through every possible answer. You could tell him everything. You could tell him that he once had wings, that he guarded you throughout your life, and that he surrendered eternity for the possibility of this moment. You could describe the bathroom floor, the forest, the subway platform, and the scarred feathers that wrapped around you before midnight. Or you could turn around, walk back into the rain, and allow him to live the clean, ordinary human life he purchased with every memory of you. Instead, you choose the only answer that doesn’t imprison either of you in the past.

“Not yet…” you say quietly.

Jiyong blinks. For one brief second, complete surprise remains on his face. Then one corner of his mouth rises, slowly reshaping his expression into something warm, curious, and unmistakably playful. A mischievous, almost boyish spark appears in his dark eyes as he repeats your answer beneath his breath.

“Not yet?”

He looks at you for another long moment, and there’s nothing celestial inside the way his gaze moves over your face. It’s the open, entirely human attention of a man who finds the woman standing before him unexpectedly beautiful and has no intention of hiding it. His eyes pause on the rain glistening in your hair and then return to yours, his smile growing by the smallest degree. “That sounds like you’re planning to change it,” he says.

Only then does Jiyong glance around the café again. This time, he’s no longer searching for the person who might’ve called his name. He notices the crowded tables, the people waiting near the entrance, and the complete absence of any other available seat. His gaze drops to the empty chair across from him before lifting back to your face.

“You’re welcome to sit here,” he says, gesturing toward it. His smile deepens, and the playful light in his eyes becomes impossible to mistake. “Besides, I’d regret letting the most interesting person in this café walk back into the rain before I even learn her name.”

Your heart contracts with a sharp, agonizing ache that leaves you breathless for a moment. This isn’t the sad, restrained smile of the angel who believed every desire had to remain hidden beneath obedience. This smile is lighter and bolder, touched by a shamelessly human curiosity he never allowed himself to possess before. Jiyong doesn’t remember loving you, but he’s already trying to keep you from leaving.

He rises from his chair and carefully pulls out the one opposite him. The gesture still carries the natural grace you remember, though now there’s something less solemn and more spontaneous in the way he does it. His dark eyes remain fixed on you, waiting with obvious interest.

You take the final step and sit down. Jiyong returns to his own chair, but instead of leaning back, he rests one arm loosely against the edge of the table and looks at you with open, unmistakable curiosity. The crowded café continues moving around you, filled with overlapping voices, clinking cups, and the relentless sound of rain lashing the windows, yet his attention remains entirely fixed on your face.

“So,” he says, the faintest hint of amusement warming his deep voice, “you already know my name. I think it’s only fair that I get to know yours.”

The smallest, most fragile smile touches your lips.

“Y/N,” you answer softly.

“Y/N…” Jiyong repeats your name slowly, allowing each sound to linger on his tongue as though it deserves far more attention than a single word should normally receive.

No recognition appears in his dark eyes. No buried memory breaks through the oblivion Heaven left behind, but the playful spark in his gaze softens into something so openly warm and admiring that your breath catches.

“That’s beautiful,” he says. His gaze moves over your face for one unhurried moment, not rudely, but with such unmistakable appreciation that a blush rushes to your cheeks and spreads all the way to the tips of your ears. One corner of his mouth lifts into a slow, boyish smile. “Though I suppose it would be difficult for a name not to sound beautiful when it belongs to someone who looks like you.”

Your lips part, but no response comes. The blush burns across your face with such force that you’re certain he can see it even beneath the warm yellow light of the café.

His smile widens, and the mischievous spark in his entirely human eyes becomes brighter, almost triumphant, as though making you blush has already become the most entertaining part of his afternoon.

“You look even cuter when you blush like that,” he says softly, leaning a fraction closer across the table as his gaze remains fixed on your heated face. “Now I’m tempted to keep complimenting you just to see how red I can make you...”

A startled, breathless laugh escapes you before you can stop it, and Jiyong’s expression brightens immediately. The pleased curve of his lips tells you that hearing that sound was exactly what he wanted, while something inside you cries out with such fierce, overwhelming happiness that you have to lower your eyes for a moment before the emotion can show on your face. He has found you, or perhaps, somehow, you have found each other. Not because he remembers the life he sacrificed, not because Heaven ordered him to remain one step behind you, and not because an ancient duty binds him to your existence. He doesn’t know you, he owes you nothing, and still he looks at you as though you’re already the most fascinating person in the room.

When you lift your eyes again, Jiyong is still watching you with that open, boyish warmth. He reaches for the menu beside his coffee and slides it across the table, but his attention never leaves your face. “Choose anything you want,” he tells you. “I invited you, so it’s on me.”

You glance down at the menu, though the words blur beneath the overwhelming awareness of him sitting only an arm’s length away. Your eyes move across the endless list of coffees until they settle on something warm and sweet, something that feels safe enough for your trembling hands.

“I think I’ll have the cinnamon hot chocolate,” you say.

Jiyong glances briefly at the menu before looking back at you, and the corner of his mouth rises again.

“Good choice,” he says with exaggerated seriousness. “That gives me a much better chance of impressing you. If you’d ordered black coffee, I would’ve had to pretend I knew something intelligent about beans and roasting temperatures.”

Another laugh escapes you, warmer and more natural than the first, and Jiyong leans back with visible satisfaction, as though he just achieved something far more important than making a stranger smile.

“I could still order coffee,” you tease quietly, surprised by how easily the words come.

“No, no, no, it’s too late,” he replies immediately, shaking his head as he reaches for the attention of a passing server. “I’ve already decided the hot chocolate suits you. Warm, sweet, and apparently capable of making this terrible weather feel less depressing.”

You raise your eyebrows at him, though the sudden blush spreading across your cheeks gives away how deeply the gentle teasing affects you.

“You decided all that from one drink?”

“One drink and one conversation,” Jiyong corrects, his dark eyes sparkling with open amusement. “I’m very observant.”

The server approaches, and Jiyong orders your cinnamon hot chocolate before requesting another coffee for himself. When the server walks away, he turns his attention back to you so quickly that it is almost as though the rest of the café has ceased to exist again.

“So far, I know your name, your drink, and that you blush when I compliment you,” he says, counting the discoveries on his fingers with playful concentration. “I’d say I’m making excellent progress.”

“You’ve known me for about five minutes...”

“Exactly,” he replies without hesitation. “Imagine how much I’ll know if you stay for an hour...”

You shake your head with another quiet laugh, but you can’t stop smiling. He watches the expression spread across your face with such unmistakable delight that the happiness inside you almost becomes painful. Once, Jiyong knew you longer than you’d known yourself. He remembered every fear, every tear, and every version of you that existed before you learned he was standing in the shadows.

Now he knows only your name, the drink warming your hands when it finally arrives, the color entering your cheeks when he flirts with you, and the strange warmth spreading through his mortal chest whenever you smile at him across the table.

It isn’t the life you lost, and it isn’t the eternity he chose to surrender. It’s something entirely new, something mortal, uncertain, fragile, and freely chosen. He doesn’t remember the love that once existed between you, but he leans in closer whenever you speak, listens as though every ordinary word matters, and looks for every possible excuse to make you laugh again. This time, nothing commands him to remain by your side. He simply wants to...

[3rd person POV]

Neither of them notices the two invisible figures standing beneath the soft yellow light in the quietest corner of the crowded café, their untouched wings folded peacefully behind them as they watch Y/N and Jiyong begin again.

“Should we help them?” one guardian angel whispers.

The other watches Jiyong lean a little closer across the table, his entirely human eyes fixed on Y/N with a warmth no celestial command could ever create. He says her name again simply because he likes the way it sounds, and the blush returning to her cheeks makes his smile deepen.

“They don’t need our help,” the other guardian angel answers softly. “Just look at them. What exists between them is stronger than any power we could offer.”

In the quiet corner of the crowded café, two pairs of unseen wings settle peacefully as Jiyong reaches across the small table to move Y/N’s hot chocolate closer to her, and he uses the simple gesture as another excuse to hold her gaze and make her smile. Their guardian angels have nothing left to do but watch…

"Oh, this?" his free hand casually trailing down the side of his jaw. "Yeah. I haven't really had the time to shave with everything going on. And honestly, now that I finally have a few days off, all I want to do is just relax. I really don't want to pick up a razor yet if I don't have to."

You nodded, trying to take in this new image of your best friend. "Right, well it looks good. Really good."

"Thank you," he smiled, his tone soft.

Seunghyun set his coffee mug down on the counter and looked at you more closely, finally noticing the faint lines of exhaustion around your eyes. "You look beat. Come on, go sit down on the couch and get comfortable. Have you had anything to eat or drink yet?"

''Just some terrible airport coffee hours ago," you admitted

"Perfect timing, then. I was just about to make something," Seunghyun called out, following you to the edge of the living room. He leaned his tall frame against the doorframe "Do you want some tea to help you unwind first? I have that barley tea you like."

"That sounds amazing, actually. Thank you," you said, sinking heavily into the plush cushions of his sofa.

You watched him turn back into the kitchen, your eyes instantly locking onto the broad expanse of his back. ''Ugh''

You needed to get a grip. This was Seunghyun. Your best friend. The guy you routinely argued with over the TV remote and who had seen you at your absolute worst. But your brain completely refused to cooperate. Every time you closed your eyes all you could see was the dark rugged shadow mapping the sharp lines of his face.

A few minutes later, Seunghyun walked back into the living room carrying two steaming mugs. He handed one to you, his warm fingers brushing against yours for a brief second..

"So," He began completely unaware of the absolute chaos happening inside your head as he sat down on the opposite end of the couch "Tell me everything. How was the trip?''

The familiar question helped ground you. For the next hour, the brief tension melted back into the easy comfortable rhythm you two always shared. Seunghyun listened intently, chuckling softly at your misery.

It was so easy to just sit here with him, laughing until your chest ached, completely falling back into the friendship you cherished so much. But there were moments you sneaked a glance, your eyes inevitably drifting right back to his jawline for just a fraction of a second before returning to his eyes.

Eventually, a loud undeniable growl echoed from your stomach, cutting you off mid-sentence.

Seunghyun glanced at you with a raised eyebrow, "Was that you??''

"I told you, I haven't eaten since this morning," you groaned.

''Alright, alright, hold on," he said, pushing himself up from the couch with a lazy stretch. "I don't have much real groceries since I just got back myself, but I have a massive stash of instant ramen. Instant gourmet meal for the weary traveler. Sound good?"

"You read my mind. Make it spicy," you called out after him

From the living room, you listened to the comforting sounds of Seunghyun moving around the kitchen—the rustle of ramen packets, the clatter of ceramic bowls, and the whistle of the electric kettle. It felt so incredibly domestic, a scene you had shared a hundred times before.

A few minutes later, Seunghyun walked back in carrying two steaming bowls of spicy ramen, complete with perfectly soft-boiled eggs sliding around the top. He set them down on the coffee table and you both immediately dug in.

"You're a lifesaver," you sighed, blowing on a massive tangle of noodles and taking a bite. The rich, spicy broth was exactly what you needed.

Seunghyun watched you eat, a soft fond expression on his face as he took his own bite. For a while, the room was mostly quiet except for the sound of clinking chopsticks and the soft hum of the refrigerator in the background. Eating together felt safe. You finished half your bowl before your pace finally slowed down. The initial distraction of the food was starting to wear off, and the quiet atmosphere of the apartment allowed those dangerous hyper-focused thoughts to creep right back into your mind.

You looked over at him out of the corner of your eye. Seunghyun was currently tilting his bowl back, lifting it to his lips to drink the last of the spicy broth. Because his head was tilted back his throat was completely exposed, the sharp angle of his Adam's apple moving smoothly as he swallowed.

A unwelcomed vivid wave of heat crashed over you, far hotter than the spicy ramen you had just eaten.

What would that feel like?

You wondered what it would feel like if he leaned over right now. If that rough scratchy stubble was pressed firmly against the skin of your neck. If it fractioned against your collarbones, scraping lightly against your skin as he kissed his way down your body. The thought itself made you shiver.

Seunghyun lowered his empty bowl to the coffee table with a soft clack. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, turning his head to look at you—and caught you.

He blinked, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "You're doing it again," he pointed out "What's going on in that head of yours?"

Your eyelashes fluttered as you snapped out of it. ''Hm? oh I'm okay, just... thinking."

Seunghyun’s smirk widened, his eyes crinkling at the corners "Thinking?" he echoed softly. "About what?"

About you kissing me, the thought flashed instantly through your mind, vivid and terrifyingly loud.

"My..Boss'' you blurted out loud, "Just thinking about an email she sent me before the flight. Work stuff. Total buzzkill."

He didn't buy it for a single second. "Your manager, huh? You were staring right here." He tapped a finger against his scruffy chin

''What? as if. You're imagining things'' You waved your hand dismissively at him

"Oh, you absolutely were," Seunghyun chuckled ''It's alright, I know I'm handsome''

"Oh, please," you scoffed followed by a classic eye roll. "Your ego is going to need its own first-class seat if you keep this up."

"Hey, I'm just stating facts," he said "But seriously, If you're trying to tell me my beard looks weird or something..tell me''

I'm trying to tell you look hot as fuck and I want to jump your bones.

''Fine, yes it looks off. There, happy?'' You lied.

"Hmm, alright," he replied, his trademark smirk returning. Clearly he didn't believe you, but still he dropped it.

You let out a quiet breath, looking back out the window as the clouds drifted by.

The truth was, crossing that line was a risk you absolutely refused to take. You had known Seunghyun since you were kids, back when he was just the goofy boy next door who shared his snacks and helped you climb trees. You had watched him grow up, stood by him through his awkward teenage years, and celebrated every single one of his milestones. He was a permanent fixture in your life, woven into your happiest memories.

Your friendship was too precious, too deeply rooted, to ever jeopardize. If you let yourself slip up, if you let him see the brief fleeting thoughts that occasionally popped into your head, everything would change.

You couldn't lose your best friend over a silly moment of distraction.

Steeling your resolve, you put the stray thoughts completely out of your mind & turned back to him.

Before the words could even leave your mouth, the ring of the doorbell echoed from across the room, cutting the conversation short.

Seunghyun blinked, looking toward the entryway before shifting his gaze back to you. "Ah, that must be her''

He pushing himself up from the couch, smoothed down his shirt and walked to the door.

Her, you scoffed.

You had completely forgotten he was talking to someone new. He had mentioned her in passing a couple of weeks ago—some girl he met through a mutual friend—but with work being so chaotic, the detail had completely slipped your mind. Now, seeming him all excited, a strange prickling sensation bloomed in your chest. For some reason, it bothered you. But why?

"Hey! You made it''

"Hi! Sorry if I'm a little early," a soft voice replied.

You strained your ears, listening to the rustle of jackets and the polite, quiet chatter as Seunghyun helped her step inside. A moment later, he walked back into the living room, leading the girl by the arm. She was undeniably pretty, dressed in an effortlessly chic outfit that made you suddenly feel hyper-aware of how casual you looked lounging on his couch.

"Hey, so this is Minji. Minji, this is a good friend of mine, Y/n'' Seunghyun smiled. An eager smile, almost as if he couldn't wait for this moment.

Minji offered a polite smile, though there was a flicker of hesitation in her eyes as she noticed how comfortable you were in his apartment. "Oh, It's so nice to meet you. Seunghyun talks about you all the time."

"Nice to meet you too," you managed to say, forcing a tight smile.

You suddenly felt like an intruder in a space that usually felt like your second home.

The silence that followed was instant and heavy. Seunghyun stood between the two of you, looking entirely oblivious to the thick layer of awkwardness settling over the room.

"Right, uh," Seunghyun started, his voice cutting through the quiet "Minji was actually just dropping off some paperwork I forgot at the studio but I told her she should stay for a drink.''

"Oh, am I interrupting something?" Minji asked quickly, "I can leave if you guys were busy."

"No.. No, not at all," you blurted out, the response a little too fast-a little too loud. "I was actually just about to head out anyway. Work stuff, you know."

Seunghyun frowned, looking at you with genuine confusion. "Wait, really? I thought you were staying for dinner."

Right, like I want to stay here and watch you flirt all night. The bitter thought flashed instantly through your mind.

"Um, no. I—I should head home, you know?" you stammered quickly "I haven't been home in a week, so... yeah. I really need to get back."

"Oh—right. Um, okay," Seunghyun replied softly.

He was obviously upset. The easy, carefree expression he usually wore around you vanished instantly, replaced by a frown.

He walked you to the door, his long strides quiet against the hardwood floor. When you reached the entryway, you turned around to offer a brief apologetic goodbye. Seunghyun pulled you into a tight hug. It wasn't his usual playful squeeze, it was firm and heavy, as if he were trying to figure out the sudden wall you had just built.

"Text me when you get back," he mumbled near your ear.

"I will. Bye, Seunghyun''

You stepped out into the chilly hallway, the heavy click of his apartment door shutting behind you feeling incredibly final.

The walk to the parking garage was a total blur. You unlocked your car and climbed inside, the quiet of the vehicle instantly wrapping around you. As you pulled out onto the main road and began the drive home, the bright city lights blurred into long, distorted streaks of color.

You reached up with a frustrated swipe of your hand, wiping it away. But you didn't know why you were crying. Why were you so upset?

It made absolutely no sense. Seunghyun was your childhood best friend. You had seen him go on dates before, and you had always been supportive. But tonight, seeing another girl step into his space—seeing the way his attention immediately fractured to accommodate someone else—had struck a raw nerve you didn't even know existed. A new feeling emerged from the surface, jealousy.

What is wrong with me?  you thought desperately  What is actually happening right now?

A hard lump formed in your throat, making it difficult to swallow. You had no right to be upset. Absolutely none. Seunghyun was a grown man and completely single. He was allowed to meet people, to date, and to invite girls over to his apartment whenever he pleased. So why did the sight of Minji standing in his foyer make you feel like your entire world was tilting off its axis?

When you finally reached home, the silence of your own apartment felt heavy and unwelcoming. You unlocked the door, stepping into the dark entryway, and kicked off your shoes without bothering to turn on the overhead lights.

You walked further into the living room, the quiet rustle of your clothes sounding incredibly loud in the empty space. As you neared the console table, your eyes drifted to a small silver frame resting near the edge. Even in the dim light filtering through the window, you could see the picture of you and Seunghyun. It was taken a couple of summers ago at a crowded street festival—he had his arm thrown casually over your shoulder. You looked so safe, so completely intertwined in each other's lives.

You let out a a small sniffle as a fresh wave of dampness blurred your vision.

Maybe eating will help? you thought, maybe you were just hungry.

Standing by the door was your suitcase and there should be a left over bagel in there. You walk over and unzip the material, beneath the folded clothes and travel gear was a brown paper bag. Your bagel. Score.

With the probably stale bagel in hand you went straight to your bedroom, crawling onto the unmade bed. Sitting cross-legged in the dark, you chew absentmindedly waiting for this foreign feeling to go away, but it didn't.

The thoughts followed you all the way to the next day.

When morning came, there was no grand realization or sudden relief. The confusing ache in your stomach had simply settled in for the long haul. You sat at the edge of your bed, your wrapped fingers holding a lukewarm mug of coffee that you hadn't even tasted yet. Outside, a gloomy gray downpour had taken over the city.

You watched the massive oak tree sway outside your window, its heavy green branches bending under the current. The storm outside perfectly mirrored the restless, tangled mess inside your own mind.

Besides you, your phone buzzed for the third time that morning. It was Seunghyun. You already knew it was him without even looking at the screen, but you couldn't bring yourself to pick it up. You didn't know what to say to him. You didn't know how to explain your sudden silence and more than anything, you didn't know how to face him without your eyes giving away the secret you were currently drowning in.

Honestly, this feeling absolutely scared you. You had spent a lifetime relying on Seunghyun as your rock, your absolute safe haven in a chaotic world. Now, for the first time in your life, he was the source of a terrifyingly new feeling.

Before you could sink any deeper into your thoughts, your phone lit up a fourth time, a bright flash against the dark wood of your nightstand. You shifted your gaze, glancing over getting a brief view of the string of messages waiting for you on the lock screen.

''Hey, did you make it home okay last night? You never texted.'' “You still sleeping?” ''Seriously, jagi, you’re making me nervous. At least send an emoji so I know you’re alive'' “I’m coming over if you don’t answer in ten minutes.”

"Fuck," you whispered aloud to the empty room.

You just didn’t have the energy to see anyone right now—especially not him, not when your emotions were still sitting right at the surface.

Grabbing your phone, you typed out a response to avoid him visiting.

Y/n |9:00 Am|: ''Hey yeah I made it home''

You stared at the screen as the little typing bubbles appeared almost instantly.

Seunghyun |9:00 Am|: Ah, ok. Glad to here it

It was silent for a phew seconds before a second message followed.

Seunghyun |9:01 Am| Are you hungry? figured maybe we cab grab some breakfast.

The stale bagel from last night was still sitting half eaten on your night stand, you glanced at the left over meal but no sense of hunger hit you.

Y/n |9:03 Am| : I'm ok, I have a bacon and egg bagel calling my name

Lie. Another lie, it scared you how easily those fibs were pouring from your mouth. On the other end Seunghyun can feel your distance, your hesitation. It's a phew minutes before another messages pops up.

Seunghyun |9:07 Am|: Everything ok? kind of feels like you're avoiding me

Because I am.

Y/n |9: 07 Am|: Yeah, just a little under the weather.

You purposely avoided the question.

Seunghyun |9:08 Am|: Ok. Let me know if I can do anything to help.

The message was short and clipped. He was obviously upset.

You felt guilty, of course you did. The man had known you since you were thirteen years old. He knew every single one of your tells when you were hiding something and the precise shift in your behavior when you were shutting down. Of course he knew you were lying to him right now, but out of pure respect—or maybe because he was tired of pushing against your walls—he dropped it anyway.

With a deep sigh, you tossed your phone onto the mattress, letting it slide away across the sheets and set your lukewarm cup of coffee down on the nightstand.

"What is happening?"

That was the question you asked yourself for days on end, the words looping in a cruel endless cycle through your mind. As if he understood, Seunghyun gave you space. The silence from him was heavy and unnatural; you had not heard from him in a total of three days. No casual texts, no funny memes, no check-ins. You hadn't left the house in three days either, letting the walls of your apartment close in around you.

It wasn't until one Saturday morning that the reality of your self-imposed isolation finally caught up to you. Groaning softly, you slumped over to the kitchen and swung the fridge door open, only to be met with empty shelves. You realized you had no food left. Your stomach rumbled uncomfortably.

Maybe a nice walk to the market will clear your mind, you thought.

Before heading out, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the bathroom mirror and you looked awful. There were dark shadows bruising the skin under your eyes from nights of restless sleep, and your hair was a wild tangled mess. You looked like a ghost hiding out in your own life.

You desperately needed a shower. The hot water felt incredibly grounding washing away days of stagnant energy. Afterward, you pulled on a pair of comfortable jeans, a simple sweater, and grabbed your canvas tote bag.

Stepping outside, the crisp air hit your face, instantly waking up your senses. The rain from the previous day had finally cleared, leaving the streets smelling fresh and damp. You took a slow deep breath, the local grocery store was only a few blocks away, and as you walked down the familiar sidewalk, the simple routine of the outside world began to make the suffocating weight in your chest feel just a little bit lighter.

You walked through the automatic sliding doors of the store, the familiar hum of the fluorescent lights and the quiet chatter of shoppers wrapping around you. Grabbing a small basket, you wandered deeper into the produce section.

You spent a while picking up apples, carefully turning a crisp red one over in your palm to check for bruises. The cool skin of the fruit felt nice against your fingers.

Then, a familiar sound cut right through the ambient noise of the aisle.

It was a deep rumble of laughter—a sound you would recognize anywhere.

Slowly, your gaze drifted past the pyramid of citrus fruits toward the organic section across the aisle. There he was.

Seunghyun was standing by the leafy greens, looking effortlessly handsome in a dark trench coat, his hair perfectly styled despite the casual Saturday morning hours. But he wasn’t alone. Minji was standing right beside him, holding a small plastic bag open while Seunghyun carefully selected a bunch of spinach to drop inside. She said something in a quiet voice, and he leaned his head down closer to hers to hear her over the store music, a soft, genuine smile spreading across his face.

The apple in your hand suddenly felt incredibly heavy. Seeing them together here, navigating a mundane, domestic routine in your neighborhood grocery store, made you feel like a complete stranger.

The apple slipped from your fingers, hitting the floor with a dull thud before rolling straight toward him. It bumped right against the toe of Seunghyun’s boot.

He looked down at the stray piece of fruit, confused and then his eyes followed the path it had taken until they locked onto yours. He blinked in sheer surprise. He quickly muttered something to Minji, giving her a brief gesture to wait, before turning and heading directly toward you.

Panic seized you. You couldn't do this. Not here. Not in front of her.

You quickly turned on your heel, your heart hammering. In your rush to escape, you didn't even realize you were still clutching your basket until you stumbled past a nearby cash register. You dropped the rest of the apples onto the counter, ignoring the startled look from the cashier, and practically bolted through the automatic sliding doors.

By the time Seunghyun followed you outside, the pavement was empty. He scanned the bustling street, his dark eyes wide with a mixture of confusion and growing frustration. You were completely gone, swallowed up by the morning crowd. He ran a hand through his black hair "Fuck."

You ran all the way home, your legs burning and your lungs screaming for air as you dashed up the stairs of your building. You threw the door open, slammed it shut behind you and leaned your back against the wood.

But the safety of your apartment couldn't stop the storm inside you. You couldn't calm yourself down. Your chest heaved in ragged shallow gasps, your throat constricting so tightly that you couldn't steady your breathing. The adrenaline faded, leaving behind a raw hollow ache and the tears came down in a silent unstoppable deluge.

You slid down the door until your knees hit the floor, burying your face in your hands.

You don't know how long you sat there, trapped in your own breathless panic, before a sudden sound echoed through the quiet apartment.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The blunt thuds against the door vibrated right through your spine. You held your breath, praying he would go away.

"Y/n" Seunghyun’s deep voice cut through the wood, rough.

He paused, waiting for a sound before knocking again, harder this time. "I know you're in there, Y/n. Open the door. Please."

You pressed your lips tightly together, trying to stifle a pathetic, watery sniffle, but the silence between you was already too loud.

"Why are you avoiding me?" his voice dropped, carrying a painful note of rejection that made your heart shatter. "We haven't spoken in three days, and now you run away from me? Just tell me what I did wrong. Please, talk to me."

Nothing, you thought bitterly, It's me.

Still, he banged on the door, the heavy vibrations rattling through your entire body. "Y/n, let me in! I haven't seen you in days! Does that not bother you?!"

Of course it does, you screamed silently, the thought tearing through your mind.

Seunghyun continued to bang on the door, the sharp cracks echoing loudly down the apartment hallway. At this point you were worried worry your neighbors. You knew someone was going to call management if this kept up. Hurrying before he could strike the wood again, you let out a shaky huff and threw the door open.

Before he could even process the sudden movement, you reached out, grabbed the hem of his dark jacket and forcefully pulled him inside.

"Shh, be quiet! You're going to disrupt my neighbors," you hissed. Slamming the door behind you.

Seunghyun stumbled slightly from the force of your pull, but he instantly found his footing, turning to face you. He looked pissed, he was clearly upset, a rare spark of pure frustration burning in his usually calm eyes. Seunghyun calmed for a moment to searching your eyes, taking in the red rims, the damp lashes, and the tracks of wetness staining your cheeks.

"Wh—what? Are you crying? Why are you crying?"

You rubbed your nose with the sleeve of your sweater "I'm not''

Seunghyun scoffed, "See? There you go again, lying to me ..What the hell is going on with you?!"

"Nothing is going on!" you shouted back, the wall you had built over the last three days finally fracturing. You pushed past him, walking into the living room just to put some distance between your bodies, but he followed you closely.

"Don't give me that bullshit, Y/n'' He was matching your anger ,"You walked out of my apartment obviously upset, ignore my texts for days and then avoid me out in public. And YOU'RE the one crying?''

''I- I'm just going through something ok, I needed time. You don't need to know everything that's going on with me'' Your voice was quieter now, almost a whisper.

''We've known each other since we were thirteen years old!" Seunghyun roared, "Your life is my business! When you hurt, it’s my business! I have spent over a decade being the person you call when things go wrong, and now suddenly you're treating me like a complete stranger! Did I do something? Did I say something to offend you? Just fucking tell me!"

"You didn't do anything!" you sobbed, "That's the point, Seunghyun! You did absolutely nothing wrong! So just drop it! Please, just go back to your apartment, go back to Minji, and leave me be for awhile''

The room went still.

"Minji?" he repeated. He stared at you, his eyes scanning your frantic tear-stained face "Is... is this about Minji?"

"No..no of course not'' you lied instantly.

You couldn't tell him. You couldn't admit that you were drowning in jealousy, that your childhood friendship was a lie you could no longer maintain, and that the thought of him being with someone else was physically destroying you. "It's not about her, I-i...I'm just dealing with something''

"Stop lying to me..." Seunghyun stepped closer.

He reached down and gently but firmly lifted your wet chin with his index finger, forcing you to look at him. "Look at me. Don't hide from me. Tell me what's happening to us."

You looked straight into his dark eyes but the words completely died in your throat. You couldn't say it. To you, the mere fact that you had developed romantic feelings for him felt... bizarre. It felt surreal, terrifying, and completely out of place in the neat, safe world you had built together over the last decade. You weren't about to ruin years of an irreplaceable childhood friendship just because you couldn't control your own heart.

Seunghyun searched your eyes for a long, agonizing moment, waiting for a confession, an explanation, or anything that would bridge the sudden chasm between you. But as the seconds ticked by in heavy silence, his expression hardened.

He let out a harsh scoff and took a step back.

"You're not going to tell me... are you?"

You said nothing.

Seunghyun shook his head, a bitter humorless smile touching his lips

"Fine," he barked, "You want space? I'll give you fucking space."

He spun around on his heel and stormed across the living room, headed straight toward the entryway. The finality in his movements was terrifying. It felt like if he walked out that door right now, the invisible thread that had held you together since you were thirteen would snap forever.

"Wait!" you cried out "Wait..."

"Please... I—I can't stand to have you mad at me" you whispered

The raw desperation in your tone stopped him instantly. Seunghyun let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders dropping as the anger seemed to drain completely out of him. He let go of the door handle and walked back over to you. When he reached you, he didn't shout..instead, he reached up and held your face in his hands.

"Then tell me," he whispered, "What's going on with you?"

You looked up into his dark eyes, the suffocating feelings that had sparked a few days ago coming back stronger than ever, completely overwhelming your defenses. His stubble was still there, shadowing his sharp jawline, and for the first time in all the years you had known him, you wondered what his lips felt like. You wondered if he was a good kisser. The sheer gravity of the thought made you incredibly nervous—terrified, even. This was a massive risk, a point of no return, but you couldn't help it. Your gaze dropped, your eyes staying completely locked on his lips.

Seunghyun noticed the shift. He looked down at you, a familiar raised eyebrow returning as his eyes softened with confusion. "Y/n?" he prompted softly.

That's when you did it.

Before your brain could talk you out of it, you leaned up and pressed your lips against his. The contact sent butterflies straight through your stomach . His scruffy stubble grazed your skin, giving a welcoming tickle.

But it was fast.

Before the kiss could deepen, Seunghyun pulled away, his hands dropping from your face as he took a startled step back. He touched his fingers to his lips.

"Woah..." Seunghyun breathed, his voice barely a whisper. "Y/n..."

"Oh my god, I’m so sorry''. You backed away, your hands coming up to cover your mouth. "Seunghyun, I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean to do that, I don't know what's wrong with me, I just—please just forget I did that—"

But he just watched you. His dark eyes never left your face, tracing the wild expression on your features as you continued to ramble. His fingers were still gently touching his own lips, the skin there tingling from the kiss.

The truth was, he had felt it too.

In that split second, those wild butterflies had erupted in his stomach and a undeniable spark had shot straight through his heart the moment your lips met his.

Seunghyun took a step closer to you, cutting off the distance you had just made. "Shut up for a second''

You blinked, completely taken aback by his tone. "Excuse me? You can't just tell me to—"

Before you could finish your sentence, Seunghyun reached out, his large hand cupping the back of your neck to pull you back in, and he kissed you.

This time, there was no hesitation. The moment his lips met yours, the last remaining walls of your childhood boundary crumbled into nothingness. It was a deep, passionate kiss.

His large hand anchored firmly against the back of your neck, his fingers tangling into your hair to hold you securely against him while his other hand came around to grip your waist, pulling your body flush against him

You let out a soft sigh against his mouth, your hands automatically reaching up to clutch at the fabric of his dark trench coat.

Seunghyun deepened the kiss, his lips moving against yours with ease as if this was something the you two of you have done many times before. It was possessive, tender, and made your knees go weak. The rough tickle of his stubble grazed your skin with every shift of his jaw, a welcoming, intoxicating sensation that only added to the overwhelming rush of adrenaline.

It wasn't just a kiss to quiet your rambling, it was an answering confession, a silent vow that he was feeling every single butterfly, every single spark that was currently roaring to life in your chest.

When he finally pulled away, your lips tingled.

"Wow," you whispered

Seunghyun’s eyes softened, he kept his large hands resting gently on your waist. "Is this okay?...are you ok with this?''

You breathed out. ''Yes.''

A smile broke across Seunghyun’s face and he didn't waste another moment. He leaned down, capturing your mouth once again in a kiss that was even sweeter and more certain than the last.

Without breaking the kiss, he began to guide you backward into the living room. His large frame shielding you from the rest of the world as he led you toward the couch. Your sneakers slid across the floor until the back of your knees hit the soft cushions.

Seunghyun followed you down as you sank into the sofa. He hovered over you, supporting his weight on one forearm while his other hand reached up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently smoothing over the lingering track of a tear.

His hands slid down to the hem of your sweater, his fingers brushed against your bare skin sending a jolt of pure electricity straight up your spine. He didn't pull away, instead his lips left yours to trail a path of burning kisses down the line of your jaw then to your neck.

You tilted your head back against the cushions, your eyes fluttering open to stare at the ceiling. You could hardly believe this was actually happening and it felt as good as you imagined.

Seunghyun’ thumbs lightly tucking under the fabric as he began to lift it up. But right before pulling it over your head, he stopped.

"Can I?" he whispered, "Is this okay?"

You looked up at him and nodded.

A quiet appreciative breath left his lips. He guided your shirt over your head and tossed it aside. Seunghyun paused for a fraction of a seconds his eyes took you in

''Wow..you're beautiful''

You didn't hide from him, it didn't feel weird, it felt completely natural. It was almost like a sudden revelation, a quiet thought blooming in your chest: Why haven't we done this this entire time?

Seunghyun shifted his weight, hovering over you with a tender intensity as his lips left yours again and pressed kisses down the side of your neck.

"Mmm, Seunghyun," you breathed his name.

Hearing his name made him let out a low rumble against your skin. You reached up, your fingers finding their way into his soft black hair gently running your hand through the thick strands. You loved the feel of it between your fingertips, a familiar detail you had observed from afar for years, now entirely yours to touch.

He moved back up to capture your mouth, the kiss turning profoundly heavy with emotion. With your hand still tangled in his hair, you reached down your fingers catching the fabric of his dark shirt and gave it an eager tug. You wanted to see him.

Seunghyun chuckled, a beautiful teasing smirk played at the corners of his lips. "Needy, are we?"

He didn't make you wait, though. Sitting up just enough to pull the fabric over his head, he tossed it onto the floor to join your own. When he leaned back down over you, you reached out, your palms pressing gently against his chest. You touched his soft skin, feeling the smooth heat radiating off him and the frantic, heavy thudding of his heart right beneath your fingertips. It was the same wild rhythm as your own, a silent reassurance that he was just as undone by you as you were by him.

You leaned up and pressed your lips gently against the soft skin of his chest, right over his racing pulse. The small gesture made him let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening against your waist.

He didn't let you stay away for long. Dipping back down, Seunghyun captured your mouth once more, pulling you into a kiss. You can feel the g bulge growing in his pants. It felt large, intimidating and you wanting nothing more than to feel it inside you.

You sat up slightly, breaking the kiss. You wanted those pants off. Your hands franticly went to the buttons of his trousers undoing them swiftly.

''Goddamn, y/n I didn't take you to be so assertive'' He watched you, bitting down on his own lip.

His pants button pops open and you shimmy the material down half by his waist exposing his boxers and v line. ''Oh yeah?''

You shifted your weight and switched places with him, straddling his lap on the cushions.

He let out a breathy huff of surprise, his hands instantly flying to your hips . "Well, alright then''

With you sitting over his lap, the proximity felt incredibly intimate, completely erasing any lingering doubts. You rested your hands flat against his bare shoulders, feeling the firm muscle beneath his soft skin. Looking down at him from this position, you realized you had never seen him look so completely undone—his black hair messy from your fingers, his lips flushed from your kisses, and his gaze entirely locked onto you as if nothing else in the world existed.

''Take it off'' you breathed, motioning to his pants.

Seunghyun didn't hesitate for a second. As he shook off the remaining of pants so did you. Almost at the same time the both of you throw the material to the floor leaving you both bare to each other.

His dark eyes traced every line and curve of your body as you did the same with his. The most you have seen of each other was at the pool, in bathing suits. But nothing like this. You can feel his hardened member resting and throbbing next to your thigh.

His large hand reaches up and plays with your soft hair, his eyes practickly drinking you up. ''God, you're so..''

''Yeah,'' you smiled. ''You too''

This was it. The last line to be crossed. This moment is what's going to change the friendship forever.

Seunghyun asks you once more, ''You want this?''

You couldn't help to smile, ''Do you?''

''More then anything''

''Me too''

He reached up and took your lips once more, bitting and tugging at the already raw dry skin. You responded in an instant, moving your hips till you hovered over his cock and let the limb slip inside you.

''Oh f-fuck '' Seunghyun groaned into the kiss.

You yelped you couldn't help it. He was large, very large. You tore away from the kiss and laid your sweaty forehead against his ''God you're so-''

You couldn't say it out loud, you were too embarrassed. But he knew what you mean.

With a satisfied smirk, he pressed a gentle kiss on your soft cheek. ''It's ok, take a second. Take as long as you need''

With a deep breath you feel like you can move now, eager for the pleasure you knew he can cause you. Your hands fly to his chest, laying your palms flat on his chest as your hips began to rock against his dick.

Seunghyun's fingers gripped to your hips as you moved, letting his head fly backwards onto the arm of the couch, ''God you feel so good''

You closed your own eyes, simmering into the feeling.This was an intense pleasure no other man has made you feel. His cock slipped in and out of you with ease and he seemed to know the exact moments to buck up into you making you moan loudly.

''mm Seunghyun''

He reached down, while his other hand stayed gripping your thigh. His fingers slipped past his dick and rubbed your clit, sending a warm wave of heat through your body.

You threw your head back, picking up your pace. ''Oh..s-shit''

Seunghyun watched you, your face contorting and your brows furrowed as you chased your high. You were beautiful and he never wanted this to end. Sweat beaded down your breasts as they bounced, the sound of your way bodies slamming together mixed with your head breaths was all that was heard in the room.

His paced quickened moving his fingers faster, he can tell, even though this was his first time with you he can tell you were about to come. And you did, your hips grinned against him chasing your orgasm as it crashed down on you.

''Ohhhh Hyung!''

Seunghyun watched your body wither above him before he gripped your hips on either side and bucked into you. You leaned forward cradling your face into his shoulder, not being to hold yourself up anymore.

Your soft hair fell over his face and he breathed it in as his pace became relentless. You reached your orgasm yes, but still the pleasure of him moving in side you threatened another one. You bit at his shoulder attempting to muffle your moans.

''Shi----shit!'' With one last thrust he came inside you. The warm liquid spilling out.

The heavy rhythm of your breathing was the only sound left in the room, fast and uneven as you both tried to catch your breath. Your chest heaved against his, the physical exertion leaving you completely spent, but the sheer adrenaline coursing through your veins kept your heart hammering wildly

You were still straddling him, the warmth of his skin radiating beneath your touch, but the heat of the moment was rapidly being replaced by a stark, sobering reality.

You looked down at him, and he stared right back up at you. Both of you were in disbelief that this line was crossed. It wasn't just a boundary anymore; it was an entire reality shattered into a million unfixable pieces. The finality of it hung in the space between your faces.

Slowly, almost tentatively, Seunghyun lifted his hand and gently began to play with your hair. He wound a loose strand around his finger, his touch incredibly softly ''Wow, I uh was not expecting that''

You let lout a small laugh, matching his energy. ''Well theres no going back now''

You both stared into each others eyes, feeling things you felt was to soon to say, thinking things that you both felt it was best to keep to yourselves. But you both knew it. You loved each other.

Of course you both always loved each other, but this was different.

Seunghyun smiled up at you, softly touching your cheek. ''We're going to be ok?''

''Yeah'' You whispered , ''We'll be ok''

He's just a mindless doll, only alive to please you. Yank on the collar that digs into him if he accidentally overstimulated you, he'll gasp for air pathetically but force himself away at your command, impatiently waiting for you to recover before he dives back on in.

"A-another one, please, hnn you taste heavenly. I promise this is the last one, mommy.."

Uzuki is such a polite sub. He sits and waits at your beck and calls, kind eyes eagerly awaiting your order. He's been through so much, I think he would really love to just exist with you. To find that desire in your arms and lose his thought process [he's also very shy and kinky]. All those erotica books make him think he knows it all, but when he gets the real thing, he's whimpering so much for you to slow down :(

Also, here are some twt vids that remind me of him — In spite of his gentle demeanor, uzuki loves it when you go rough on him, slamming your silicone cock so deep inside that he can't help the wanton noises that burst out of him.

uzuki who refuses to cum when you haven't granted him permission.

he's been caught in the trap of an order member!reader, but he doesn't think he wants to be rescued from your heart pulsating pleasure.