one of a kind thing

that night, you were sitting in bed, scrolling through social media, when you saw keeho’s story; he was out with his friends – who were your friends first – in a club or a bar of some sort, as if your absence didn’t bother him at all. as if he didn’t care you were gone. 

that’s when the first tears since the day of the argument fell, sharp sobs tearing your chest apart and stealing your breath away as you threw the phone off to the side and curled into yourself. it felt like the whole weight of the world fell onto your shoulders; you couldn’t understand how something so good ended faster than you could blink, and now it was just… gone. for good. like the whispered promises you had exchanged never really mattered.

you spent the next six days locked in your apartment, wailing in your bed and getting up only when it was absolutely necessary. you didn’t answer calls and barely ever responded to any of the worried messages you were getting from your friends. completing any chores felt like too much effort, and the thought of talking to anyone alone made your stomach turn violently and a fresh wave of tears fill your eyes, so you kept to yourself.

it was taeyang who dragged you out of the misery.

on the ninth day, you woke up to the sound of someone banging on your front door, impatient and seemingly angry. you didn’t mean to respond at first and pulled the covers over your head and pressing pillows to your ears in hopes that whoever was on the other side would get bored and leave, but the knocking didn’t stop. it only got even louder the longer it went unanswered, so despite your puffy face and the dirty t-shirt on your shoulders, you forced yourself to get out of bed.

it shouldn’t have surprised you at all who was the person behind the relentless banging – taeyang was one of your closest friends, and one of the only ones who, despite being a mutual friend of you and keeho, stayed with you and not with him. 

the said man’s face fell the moment his gaze landed on you after you opened the door, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. he looked up and down your dishevelled form, and the corner of his lips curved into a disapproving frown.

“you look like hell,” he commented – on point, yes, but still rudely and unnecessarily – as he pushed past you and invited himself inside.

you sighed, but you didn’t have the energy to try to stop him, so you resigned yourself to closing the door behind him. “thanks. i feel like hell too.” 

taeyang didn’t seem too bothered as he walked further into your living room. it looked like he was about to regale you with another witty comment about your current state, but he suddenly halted with his mouth open, and his nose scrunched in disgust. “jesus, did something die in here?”

a sharp stab of irritation stung in your chest at his words and you didn’t fight the urge to roll your eyes, though any feeling other than the constant sorrow for once felt very welcome at the moment. you crossed your arms at the chest with a long exhale, feet planted in one spot near the door in case he changed his mind and decided to leave you alone after all. “don’t piss me off, taeyang. i don’t have the energy for this. what do you want?”

“i came to check on you, obviously,” his voice dripped with bitter attitude you learned to recognise as care after years of friendship, as he slid his hands into his pockets and marched nonchalantly into your kitchen. “seems like i was right about you needing it.”

you didn’t respond this time, instead opting to observe as he opened cabinet after cabinet, peeking into the drawers first and the fridge next, his frown deepening after seeing each empty shelf. 

“you’ve been living off of cereal?” his gaze flickered between you and the sad-looking box of some kind of colourful treats consisting of more sugar than anything else that he took out of your otherwise nearly empty pantry. 

the disapproval in his voice made you squirm a little at last, your lips pursing as you looked everywhere but at him to avoid the nagging. 

“no…” a half-lie, but so unconvincing you winced internally. “...i ordered takeout a few times.”

even with your eyes on the floor, you could hear the way taeyang dropped the box onto the counter with a deep sigh that sounded nestled somewhere between disbelief and pity, before turning towards you fully. “that’s it. we’re going shopping.”

your heart dropped to your stomach. the last thing you needed was the world seeing you in your lowest state since your teenage years, and facing the said world seemed like a challenge you weren’t ready to face.

“i don’t wanna go…” the whine you let out was almost childish, and the impression only grew when taeyang grabbed your wrist and you dug your heels into the floor in response. 

“come on, you can’t just rot here forever.”

“teayang, please, i don’t want to–”

he spun around suddenly to face you, his expression hardening as he spoke in a firm tone you don’t remember hearing from him in a long time, if ever.

“so you’re gonna let him win?” he stepped closer, towering over you slightly and glaring down at you as you slowly deflated. “you’re gonna let a guy make you this miserable while he’s out there living his best life? look at yourself.”

you swallowed heavily, tearing your gaze away from him to glance down at your stained, sweaty pyjamas, and a wave of embarrassment washed over you. 

…god, you really were being pathetic, weren’t you? how could you let yourself go like that? 

there was a long stretch of silence as you pondered under the pressure of taeyang’s hard glare – then you exhaled, shoulders slumping as the stubbornness left your body. “...okay, okay. just... let me change.”

your friend leaned back finally, lips curling into a smirk and chin raised in triumph as he watched you retreat into your bedroom, this time not with the intention to lock yourself inside for days on end. “you’re gonna take a shower, too?”

“you’re pushing it, taeyang.”

the store was too bright, too loud, and too crowded for your shattered nerves. you almost forgot what it was like over the previous days when you isolated yourself from everything and everyone and burrowed yourself in your own sorrow, and now that you were back outside you thought maybe rotting in your bed wasn’t all that bad. 

you felt sick to your stomach walking through the dairy aisle and watching the happy faces of families, couples, and friends who looked like a couple, that seemed to mock you with their carefree smiles, as if everyone wanted you to stay miserable. 

taeyang kept talking to you the whole time, something about the shopping list and dinner plans, but all his words flew over your head. your head was constantly at war, a hellish back and forth of thinking about him and mentally slapping yourself for it while your fingers physically twitched, already enough times to give you cramps later. 

“–or should we get more?”

your gaze snapped up from the floor when taeyang’s voice suddenly cut through the fog. your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you blinked fast, only then realising how little you must have been blinking. “get more of what?”

the glare the man sent you was, to put it nicely, unimpressed. he crossed his arms at his chest, and the twitch of his jaw signalled that the only thing keeping him from whacking you in the head were the people around you. 

“the yoghurt,” he sighed, “the one i’ve been talking about for the past three minutes. do you think we need two cups or more?”

it was the second time that day that you felt this stupid under taeyang’s judgemental stare. your eyes drifted away from his as you swallowed harshly, your face twisting into a frown from the sheer discomfort. 

“oh, um…” you had no idea what he was talking about, or what he had been talking about since you entered the store, and somehow the question felt like none of the possible answers was the right one. “just… whatever you want, i guess.”

the groan he let out in response made a few heads turn, but he paid it no mind as he reached out to grab your shoulder, firmly enough for his fingers to dig into your skin slightly. 

“pull. yourself. together. you haven’t said a single word since we came here. have you even been listening to anything i said?”

you could feel the nosy stares on your back, and the unwanted attention made your skin prickle and the hairs on the nape of your neck stand up. 

“alright, alright, i’m sorry,” you made sure to keep your voice quieter than his as you yanked your arm out of his grip, palms open in front of you in a calming gesture. you fought the urge to roll your eyes – the last thing you needed was for this to escalate into an argument in the middle of the grocery store, so you took a step back with the intention to go back to shopping and get it over with as fast as possible. 

“i was just thinking, it’s really not that–”

your words cut off when you walked into something before you could even take another step, a surprised oof leaving your mouth instead. you stood frozen for a moment as your brain caught up with what happened – and then what you thought was an oddly placed refrigerator or, worse case, an elderly lady who overheard your whole conversation with taeyang, turned around.

and there he was.

it was as if time slowed down around you as you watched keeho’s features morph from mild irritation to shock, one hand holding the handle of the shopping cart in front of him and the other halted in the air with an airpod between his fingers.

and, damn it, he looked perfectly fine.

there was no sign of distress on his still stupidly handsome face – no dark bags under his eyes, no permanent crease between his eyebrows, no change in his skin tone from avoiding the sun for over a week straight. 

none of the things your face had now. 

he was dressed nicely, adequately, unlike the outfit you put together from whatever semi-clean clothes you fished out of your closet first. his hair was neat and clearly styled, unlike the tangled mess on your head.

how the fuck could he be so okay while you’re in shambles?

you weren’t sure how long you had been staring at each other in silence when a sudden sharp tug on your arm pulled you backwards, as taeyang led you out of the aisle and straight towards the cash registers, yoghurt be damned. 

you caught the last glance of keeho before you turned the corner, but all you could see was a blurry silhouette walking away in the opposite direction as your eyes filled with tears on the spot, the weight of the interaction crashing down on you. 

you didn’t leave your bed for the rest of the day.

by the second time you saw him, you had picked yourself up.

it was nearly a month after the first encounter. in the meantime, you cried for long hours, you retreated from social life again for a while. you were sure the universe was playing a cruel joke on you with the way your first attempt to go back to normal after the break-up ended up with you standing face to face with the reason for your heartache. 

but gradually, the feelings started to change. your tears dried out and the sadness turned into anger, which then turned into this odd mix of grief and freedom that you didn’t expect but was so liberating. you started replying to messages and accepting invitations to hang out. you picked up a brush and a lipstick again and chose nice clothes to wear just so you could feel nice, not for anyone else’s approval. 

you weren’t past it, not yet – you still couldn’t look at your photos with keeho without your throat tightening, and you had him blocked on all social media platforms because seeing him living his life so unbothered broke your heart all over again. 

but you were improving, slowly but steadily.

that day, you decided to finally do something for yourself, to do something on your own without relying on anyone else to make you feel good. you needed a few hours of peace and quiet, with no one and nothing to disturb you.

as you pushed the heavy wooden door open, you were immediately hit with the smell of books, dust, and gentle air freshener. the bookstore wasn’t too spacious – it was more of a hidden gem, secluded in a small alleyway between bars and convenience stores, where the owner knew her regulars by their name and greeted them with the warmest of smiles. you had always loved this place – you even took keeho here once or twice despite him not being too much of a reader; seeing the same bean bag you remember sitting at together while you read and he pretended to while his head rested on your shoulder made your heart skip a beat in the worst of ways, but you shook your head and kept walking further inside.

you wandered aimlessly between bookshelves, not focusing on finding anything specific but looking through the genres and authors until something caught your eye. you had lots of time to spare and even more things to get your mind off of, so you took your time as you leisurely traced the spines of the books with your finger and skimmed over the descriptions.

for a couple hours, it worked. your phone was on silent and your mind was blissfully undisturbed. you’d pick up a book, read the first couple of pages, then either put it in the basket on your arm if you liked it or put it back on the shelf if you didn’t. 

as you were moving between action and fantasy, a shadow passed by all the way on the other side of the aisle.

a shadow with hair in an awfully familiar shade of brown, and with a walk you could recognise from miles away in a street full of people.

your heart dropped to your stomach.

there’s no way, you thought. why would he even be here out of all places?

that couldn’t possibly be him, right? he never read a single book from the bookstore in all the times you dragged him here.

that must have been your mind playing tricks on you. remember what taeyang said? pull yourself together. 

you ignored the full-body shiver that ran through you – out of horror or something else entirely, you weren’t sure – and moved to another bookshelf. your heart was beating out of your chest and your mind was anything but peaceful now, your thoughts relentlessly rewinding back to that shadow you saw, and it took everything in you to try to focus on the titles, needing to read each one three times before they actually stuck. 

come on. that. wasn’t. him. pull yourself together, he doesn’t deserve to make you feel like this–

“hey.”

the sudden voice coming from right next to you pulled you out of your stupor. you gasped, eyes widening, and jumped in the opposite direction on instinct before you took a look at the source of the sound.

fucking hell.

“sorry, i– didn’t mean to scare you,” keeho lowered his voice to barely over a whisper and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, all while you stood there as if rooted to the floor. 

you couldn’t fathom the sheer audacity he had to have to be standing here in front of you looking all… uneasy? guilty? while you held on as tightly as you could so your heart wouldn’t shatter into pieces again. 

without a word, you tried to step to the side and walk past him, but he stopped you with a hand on your shoulder. the feeling of his warm skin on yours made your thoughts turn into static, but definitely not in a good way. 

“can we just talk?” his gaze met yours as he pulled on your shoulder so you’d face him, and the amount of contradicting emotions that bubbled up inside you felt like you were about to burst. but he held eye contact steadily, seemingly determined to get his way. “please?” 

for a split second, your heart softened. for a split second, you wanted to agree and talk to him and explain everything and get him back. god, did you want that.

but that split second passed, and what you thought were butterflies in your stomach turned into stones that weighed on you until you felt nauseous. what you thought was longing turned into anger that made your blood boil.

pull. yourself. together.

you yanked your arm out of his grip, and met his gaze head-on. “there’s nothing for us to talk about,” the tone of your voice was firm and cold, so much that keeho’s face twisted into shock. “you’ve already said enough, didn’t you?”

and with that you turned away once more, not sparing him another glance as you made a beeline towards the exit.

keeho called your name behind you, arm stretched out like he wanted to try to catch you one more time, but the clerk behind the counter shushed him with a disapproving look – and before he could catch up to you, you were gone, your basket full of books abandoned on the floor.

the third time, you almost didn't care.

It had been weeks since your friends heard you talking about keeho, and even longer since they saw you crying because of him. you were relearning how to have fun by yourself and reconnected with the people you had cut off during the worst of your heartbreak – you realised there was so much more to life than the one man who let you go so easily, and so much more to your worth than him. you still had him blocked on every platform you both used, as well as his phone number (the name of which you had changed to ‘DO NOT UNBLOCK’), and the urges to reach out and booty call when you were lonely were getting less and less frequent. it was a long process, but you were healing.

this time around, you were out with your friends – “four full weeks since you’d last mentioned the one who should not be mentioned” as they called it, but you suspected it was really just another excuse to dress up pretty and get shitfaced. 

the club was bustling despite the early hour; it was barely past eleven, yet the friday night air must have brought everyone in already because the stench of alcohol and a few tens of sweaty bodies rubbing against each other hit you right at the doorstep.

did you want to go in? you weren’t entirely sure, but you hadn’t been in a club as a single woman since you got together with keeho, and you knew you were in desperate need of a night without a care in the world, so you squared your shoulders and took a deep breath.

at last, your friend, mia, pulled you inside with a firm hold on your wrist, while taeyang and his friend that he brought tonight, intak, strutted behind you. you squeezed through the dense crowd near the coat hooks, clutching your purse for dear life and trusting mia’s instincts to lead you towards safety, until you could finally breathe when the crowd dispersed around between the dance floor and the bar. she wasted no time before skipping over to the bar and ordering a round of shots, and it took her exactly one glance towards intak (at which taeyang rises an eyebrow) for him to giggle fumble to fish his wallet out of his pocket and pay for all of them. 

the harsh taste of liquor stung your throat as you threw your head back, your face twisting into a grimace, but before you could open your eyes fully again one of your friends held out another glass right in front of your face. you sighed, but that’s about all of the hesitation you had before you switched your empty glass with this one.

soon enough, the music got louder in your ears and the floor started spinning under your feet as you swayed on the dance floor. your hair was messy and sticking to your sweaty forehead, and your dress was probably all dishevelled and bunched up, but your smile was wide and, god, you hadn't felt this alive in months. it’s like everything that has ever troubled you didn’t matter for those few hours – only you, your friends, and the anticipation of what song was going to play next. 

between the music and the constant chatter of people around you, you completely missed whatever mia was yelling to you over taeyang’s shoulder. 

“what?!” you shouted back, catching yourself on his other shoulder so you didn't stumble before curling your palm around your ear to hear better.

mia leaned in closer in response, then took a deep breath. 

“I NEED TO PEE!” 

the scream she let out straight into your pinna was so loud you physically jolted back and nearly bumped into someone standing behind you.

“no!” you grasped her shoulders as if your life depended on it, your voice cracking mid-sentence. “don’t leave me with the men!”

intak and taeyang, having heard every other word from the distance, only exchanged confused glances when she suddenly snatched your hand and led you away from the crowd, screaming something about being about to piss herself over the music.

the line to the bathroom was surprisingly short, and with a couple of people leaving and the other few allowing you to go first after seeing mia’s clearly distressed state, you got in before your drunk mind could count to twenty. 

the inside was a vibe on its own – sticker-covered walls, stall doors nearly falling out of the hinges, and a line of men and women and various people in between reapplying make-up in the fogged mirrors above the sinks. the music was still loud even after the door shut, enough to keep the party going even here, but it was muted enough to be able to talk without screaming your lungs out.

mia disappeared inside one of the stalls before you even took a good look around, and at first you leaned back against the opposite wall with the intention to wait until she’s done – but soon the song changed and the people standing at the sinks started shoulder-bumping you as they pushed each other towards the exit in excited hurry, so you quickly made up your mind and decided to use the chance to make sure your bladder wasn’t going to act up at the worst time, swiftly stepping aside to enter the next empty stall.

except, the stall wasn’t empty at all.

the handle gave under barely any force at all – clearly unlocked – and you moved forward before you noticed the two figures already inside, your mind catching up with your eyes too late. you yelped in shock, jumping back outside instantly as you apologised profusely, your gaze flickering anywhere but at them to at least give the illusion of privacy.

you were about to close the door and retreat in humiliation when your stupid, ignorant mind couldn’t help but steal the last nosy glance at the two.

 you really should have known better. because as their faces finally parted from each other, all dazed eyes and glistening lips–

…all dazed eyes, and glistening lips, and sharp cheekbones, and brown hair. 

you couldn’t believe your luck – or rather the lack of it. the person you fought tooth and nail to forget stood right in front of you in a dirty toilet stall in a club, one hand under the shirt of whoever the woman he was making out with was, and the other braced on the wall right above her head. 

he was staring at you like he couldn’t believe it either, the haze clearing from his eyes momentarily. he didn’t let go of the woman, but his arm twitched as if her skin burned before he thought about it better.

and the silence that fell in the bathroom was heavy with the weight of shared memories and the slowly overpowering feeling on both sides that what you two had was really, really over for good. this was the period at the end of the sentence that you didn’t have the courage to put until now.

the woman, still pinned to the wall by keeho, looked between the two of you with an expression more impatient than anything else. “girl, hello? close the fucking door.” 

her words shook you out of the initial surprise, your hand twitching away from the handle and letting it close back up once again. as if on cue, the other stall opened right the next second to reveal a slightly unsteady but visibly relieved mia, whose face went from intoxicatedly happy to very dramatically confused. 

“what happened?”

you stole one more innocent glance at the now closed door, behind which you could only imagine the show was going on again with renewed fervour – and that’s when you realised just how much you had changed, because instead of telling her everything and spiralling, you settled on a deep sigh and a dismissive wave of your hand before you took her arm and left the bathroom.

you were not nearly drunk enough for this.

#♡

“are you sure you want to go?” 

the look taeyang is fixing you with as you bustle around the room to put finishing touches to your look is an uncomfortable mix of concern and pity, his legs stretched out on top of your bed and his arms crossed at his chest.

“of course,” you sigh, putting the wand of your mascara back in the tube and fighting the urge to roll your eyes. this is the third time he’s asked you this this evening, and you’re not sure how to get it through his thick skull anymore. “i can’t not go to shota’s birthday party just because my ex is going to be there. i’m not going to force him to stop being friends with keeho for my sake.” the man’s frown deepens at that, a displeased sigh leaving his lips. “i still think it’s weird that he invited both of you. i’m sure he knows that you two didn’t end things on a good note,” a beat passes, the gears turning in his head, before he straightens up with a gasp. “unless keeho lied to everyone and said you agreed to stay friends or something– or worse, that you were the asshole.”

this time you do roll your eyes, sending him a glare that’s exasperated but also undeniably touched by his worry – and the commitment to being a hater.

“i don’t care what he says about me, taeyang,” you zip your purse after throwing the mascara in and check your reflection for the last time. “i’m gonna go there and have a good time, period.” 

your friend sulks in silence for a little longer, as if calculating the chances of a disaster happening. but he nods eventually, letting out a long exhale, and slides off of the bed. 

“fine. just stay close to me, okay?”

and shota’s party is fun. it’s nothing too crazy – he keeps his friend circle rather tight and his apartment is huge, so people are scattered around in small groups and mostly just catching up with old friends or making new ones while moving to the shared playlist playing through the speakers in the living room. 

taeyang doesn’t leave you alone for a second too long, dragging you behind to meet all of his buddies after giving shota his wishes, while also making sure you stay hydrated, as he likes to call it, though the beverages he hands you have little to do with preventing kidney stones.

and keeho… well, he’s here too. 

you actually haven’t caught a glimpse of him until a few hours into the party – whether he arrived late or was hiding from you, you have no way of knowing – and to your surprise, he’s been doing a good job at not staring you down across the room and keeping a respectful distance. 

that is, until jongseob enters the story.

he catches you by surprise, wrapping his arm around your shoulders from behind while you’re peacefully refilling your drink in the kitchen during taeyang’s trip to the guest bathroom, making you jump in surprise and nearly spill the contents.

“oh my god, is that really you?” he snickers at your terrified expression but makes no move to give you space. “we haven’t seen each other in years!”

a lie, obviously – it’s been a few months at most, and you and jongseob were never that close anyway, but he always had a knack for dramatics.

you barely have the time to fully recover from the shock and swallow down the last of your humiliation before he takes your hand and forcibly pulls you out of the kitchen and into the living room, where a small group of people you don’t recognise is already waiting for him.

but you truly start to believe that you must have somehow upset the divine force watching over you, because in between the strangers stands one person you wish were a stranger too, a pair of eyes staring right at you as you’re pulled into the circle. 

it’s just your luck, isn’t it? the hairs on your body stand tall while you do your best to act casual and avoid catching keeho’s gaze, the said gaze so intense you can almost feel it as a physical sensation. meanwhile, jongseob stays seemingly blissfully unaware of the air thickening around you, talking to his friends about some kind of story involving you that you barely even remember happening yourself while gesturing animatedly with his hands.

from the corner of your eye, you can see when keeho shifts his weight from one leg to the other and his jaw twitches just slightly. your polite smile falters, and you swear he’s about to finally break the silence when a warm hand wraps around your wrist firmly. 

startled, you whip your head to the side to see a very annoyed taeyang looming right behind your shoulder like a guardian dog and challenging keeho’s glare with his own.

keeho’s eyes flicker between his and your faces before drifting down to where he’s holding your hand – his expression hardening momentarily, and his hand that’s holding the half-empty bottle of beer shakes from how much his grip tightens.

the whole exchange feels like it’s going on for minutes on end for the ones involved, but it’s actually mere seconds before taeyang’s frown morphs into a friendly smile as if nothing ever happened in a disturbingly short time.

“hey, sobie,” he waves towards the younger man before turning to you. “i’ve been looking for you everywhere. shota said we can smoke on the balcony, you wanna come with?”

you don’t question where he got the cigarettes from or when he had the time to ask shota about it when the guy is standing on the other side of the living room as you speak – you’ll take any excuse to escape this situation you’re still not sure how you found yourself in, and this one is plausible enough.

it takes one nod from you for taeyang to quite literally yank your arm and haul you towards the master bedroom where the balcony is, his jaw clenched so tightly you wonder how his teeth aren’t hurting.

the night chill does wonders to your overheating body as you step through the glass door, and only now that you’re underneath the twinkling stars does he let go of the death grip on your wrist.

leaning against the railing, you take a deep breath to ground yourself after the intense emotions, and reach out an open palm towards your friend.

he looks down at your hand, then up at your face, and then does a double-take at your hand, all with an increasingly confused furrow of his eyebrows. “what?” “will you give me the cig?”

taeyang blinks, “i don’t have cigarettes.” “oh.”

he smacks your hand away and sighs deeply, leaning against the railing next to you and looking out into the distance. “you should be grateful i got your ass out of there. how did that even happen?”

“i don’t know!” you say defensively, rubbing your skin where it stings slightly from the impact. “jongseob found me in the kitchen and dragged me there before i could say anything. i didn’t even know he was friends with keeho!” the way his shoulders droop in resignation makes you feel guilty even though technically none of what happened was your fault. and, besides, you did pretty well keeping your face out there. you think.

the two of you stay on the balcony for longer than you initially thought you would, the quiet calming you down and the cool air sobering you up a little. you talk about the other guests at the party and your impressions of the ones either of you didn’t know before, the echo carrying the sound of your laughter into the night.

“okay, i’m starting to get cold. let’s go back inside,” taeyang says at last as he rubs his arms to get rid of the goosebumps on his skin. 

you watch him step back and turn around towards the door, but you hesitate. the quiet feels welcome after hours of loud music and talking over people, and you actually don’t mind the cold that much.

“you can go, i’ll stay here.”

the man stops in his tracks to look back at you over his shoulder, puzzled. he seems unsure whether he should let you stay alone after you got yourself in trouble in less than five minutes the last time he let you out of his sight, but the idea of staying outside and freezing while missing out on all the fun inside doesn’t appeal to him either.

“are you sure?” “yeah,” you send him a smile, reassuring but genuine. “i’ll be fine.”

there’s another beat of silence as he hangs back, not fully convinced, before he finally relents and nods and pushes open the balcony door. “alright then.”

after he disappears behind the bedroom door, you don’t even notice the time passing. it’s a nice change from all the noise inside even if it’s just for a while before you have to go back to the others – taeyang will probably get impatient soon enough and drag you out there himself anyway.

but until then, you get lost in your thoughts. 

you think about your friends – how much closer you’ve gotten with taeyang in the past months, and wonder how the ones that stopped reaching out to you are doing. about whether shota liked his birthday gift from you, about mia and intak and how they kept touching each other innocently during your last night out. 

you think about keeho too.

it’s something you haven’t allowed yourself in a while, but you’re just the right amount of tipsy and for some reason the night sky is putting you in a nostalgic mood.

you think back to the girl he was making out with in the club. was she his girlfriend? she’s not here today with him so you doubt that, plus you remember him as a bigger romantic than fucking his partner in a dirty toilet stall. though he’s also the biggest example of how fast people can change, sometimes in drastic ways, so you can only assume.

then you think about his reaction to taeyang holding your hand earlier. his expression turned into something you couldn’t quite decipher – anger? shock? disgust? why would he even care in the first place?

you’re so deep in your own head you barely hear the noise of the balcony door creaking open behind you, but it’s enough to bring you back on earth.

“taeyang, i’m fine. i’m gonna get back to you guys in a moment,” you murmur without turning around, fully convinced that the person is no one else but your friend who, as you predicted, started getting jittery without you.

how big your surprise is when the voice that calls out your name is not even close to taeyang’s, but lower in pitch and almost hesitant.

god fucking damnit.

keeho bristles at the silence from your side, the softness in his tone disappearing and giving way to a sarcastic edge. “you could at least reply, you know.”

oh, does that piss you off. not only did he handle the breakup poorly and somehow always showed up exactly where you were just to disturb your peace, but now he’s giving you attitude too? 

you push yourself away from the railing at last, whipping around to face him fully, your shoulders squared. he’s standing no more than a meter away from you, arms crossed at his chest and his lips pressed together tightly. 

“i don’t want to talk to you, keeho. get out.”

but keeho has no intention of getting out. his feet are planted firmly in the spot as he eyes you up and down with the same kind of look from earlier today. “so are you and taeyang a thing now or do you guys just sleep together?”

a beat of stunned silence passes after his bold accusation as your brain struggles to comprehend the sheer audacity of the man. “what– no, we’re not–” you kick yourself mentally for the way you stutter, probably stripping yourself of all credibility, but the anger remains. “why do you even care? you’re the one who hooked up with a random girl in the fucking club bathroom.”

he, contrary to you, doesn’t seem too bothered by your words and only snickers at them before narrowing his eyes. “oh, please, like you weren’t there to do the same thing.”

“i wasn’t!”

you can’t believe your own ears. did he really corner you alone on the balcony just to accuse you of sleeping with your friend and his ex-friend? even if you were, you’re a big girl and you can do whatever the fuck you want without needing anyone’s nose in your business – especially his.

keeho all but backs down, raising his eyebrows at your denial like he doesn’t believe a word you say.

“does he fuck you better? or is he just a rebound to get back on–”

the balcony falls silent after your palm connects with his cheek with a loud slap of skin against skin that echoes in the quiet. his head jerks to the side, eyes widening in pure shock as he stumbles a bit on his feet. slowly, his hand comes up to gently prod at the already reddening skin as if needing to check if this really happened. when his gaze finds its way back to yours, there’s fire in it.

next thing you know, he reaches out with that same hand to grab the back of your neck and yank you forward, crashing his mouth into yours.

you let him kiss you for a few seconds without a response as your brain catches up, then you brace your hands on his chest and push him away, just enough to break the connection.

“keeho–”

“shut up.”

when he presses his lips to yours again, still fierce but not as brutal as the first time, the familiarity of it overpowers all rationality you have left. against your better judgement, you melt against him, your arms wrapping around his neck to hold him close as you kiss him back with equal fervour.

a small sound between a sigh and a moan bubbles up from your throat and makes keeho smirk at how easily you gave in after all that talk, but you bite down on his lower lip in retaliation, causing him to let out an even more pathetic sound into your mouth.

and god knows you missed this.

your head is blank of everything other than him as his tongue delves between your lips and his hands skim up your sides under your top hungrily, the warmth of them contrasting with the coolness of your skin from being outside for long. there isn’t a bit of space between your bodies, your whole front pressed flush against his from your chest to your hips. 

“you taste just as good as i remember,” your knees nearly buckle at the low murmur against your mouth, his voice holding that lustful edge you can’t help but want more of. 

and keeho must feel that because he drags his hands down the curve of your ass to haul you up by the back of your thighs, your ankles locking behind his back as he carries you inside, shutting the door with his leg before dropping you unceremoniously onto shota’s king-sized bed.

“it’s good to be back,” he smirks down at you from where he’s standing at the edge of the bed, palms resting on your knees.

you swallow harshly, trying to ignore the rapid pace of your heart and the heat in your lower belly that’s mixing with irritation at his cockiness. 

“you’re such an asshole.” 

the attempt at a jab only makes him grin wider. his hands leave your legs to hook under the edge of his shirt and tug it over his head, revealing the soft lines of his stomach and chest. you wonder if it’s your mind playing tricks or if he got even more ripped since you last saw him like this.

“i know.” 

then he’s back on you, crawling onto the bed and holding himself above you with his arms on both sides of your head as he kisses you again like the insult just turned him on more. it’s needy, rushed, and full of pent-up feelings you’ve both been pushing back for months on end, and the thrill of hearing the party blasting behind the closed door is the cherry on top. you don’t realise when all of your clothes are suddenly gone and thrown somewhere on the floor beside his, too caught up in the blissful feeling of his hands on you. it seems like he hasn’t forgotten his way around yet.

your breath hitches when he sits up on his heels between your legs, looking up and down your body with an appreciative and filthy gaze like he’s trying to memorise you all over again, and his eyes linger on the apex of your thighs.

“mhmm… i missed this pretty pussy,” he hums, one hand pushing your leg open further while he brings the other one up to lick the tips of his middle and ring fingers to wet them, before descending towards where you’re already throbbing eagerly. 

your mouth falls open at the first contact to your clit, the slow circles making your toes curl after so long without being touched by another person. you push yourself up onto your forearms and look up at him from under your lashes, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your cheeks already feeling hot.

keeho’s cock twitches at the sight of you like this – he can’t deny that he’s been thinking about this nearly every day since you ended things – but he tries to cover it up with another smirk. 

“yeah? you like that?”

the answer is yes, obviously, but giving him the satisfaction is the last thing you want to do, so you bite your lip harder to hold back any sounds threatening to escape.

but keeho doesn’t like being ignored. his expression changes to something darker as he smacks your folds without any warning, making you yelp in surprise. 

“cat got your tongue? you had so much to say earlier,” he delivers one more harsh slap before resuming circling your stinging clit, this time faster. “i asked you a question.”

this time you can’t keep it together and a choked whimper leaves your lips as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the slight pain from the smacks and the firm tone of his voice reawakening something inside you that you thought was long gone. damn him for remembering all of your weak spots.

“fuck– yes… feels good.”

keeho nods in approval, deliberately changing the pace of his movements to see your thighs tremble and to hear more of those delicious sounds you make. 

he licks his lips, eyes glued to your glistening cunt like his patience is hanging on the last thread. “you still on the pill, baby?”

“don’t call me that,” the defiance slips out without thinking like a defence mechanism, but the fight drains out of you, replaced by burning need, the moment he raises his gaze to your face with a quirk of his eyebrow. “...yeah.”

his voice wavers slightly, clearly struggling to hold back. “fuck yeah.” 

his hand leaves you to instead wrap around his cock, spreading your wetness over hot skin and pumping himself to full hardness before shifting closer and aligning the broad tip with your pulsing hole. there’s no foreplay, no kissing down your body, no preparation. 

just lust.

“deep breath,” the words are jarring, mocking almost, as he pushes on your chest to make you fall flat on the bed, and in the same moment he braces himself on his free hand and buries himself inside your cunt in one, deep thrust.

the sudden stretch drags a gasp out of your mouth, his head hitting your cervix making stars burst behind your eyelids. your hands latch onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, as he lowers himself onto your body and presses his face into the crook of your neck.

“god– fucking damnit…” he nearly growls out, the tightness stealing his breath away. he doesn’t move for a long while – more for his own sake than yours – savouring the familiarity of your walls clamping around his cock greedily as he steels himself so he doesn’t cum on the spot.

when he finally starts to move, it’s everything but reverent. he pulls out almost all the way before slamming his cock back inside, his hips colliding with yours with a loud sound from both of your throats, and repeats the same motion over and over, quick and steady and so fucking good. 

“this pussy… fucking wrecks me every time,” he emphasises the words with a deep grind that makes you cry out his name, and you have half the mind to pray that the music outside the room is loud enough to cover it up. 

your walls tighten around him when he crashes his lips against yours, earning a moan from him that reverberates into your mouth. 

“keeho–” you pant between kisses, “harder…” 

you can feel his hips stutter for a second at your gasped plea, before he finds his rhythm again with renewed vigour, granting your wish.

“yeah? you still like it rough, huh?” the wet sounds of his cock slamming into you fill the room, a drop of sweat running down his forehead from the exertion. on the brink of losing his mind, he raises a hand and slaps you across your face – not nearly as hard as you did to him earlier, but enough to sting and make your eyes water – before he lowers it onto your throat. “you still love how my cock wrecks you?”

you’re sure this is the end of you, because the second his hand connects with your cheek the coil in your tummy tightens impossibly, and you lose all sense of sane judgement. 

“yes! oh god– yes, please–” your head spins from the lack of oxygen, heightening the pleasure that threatens to take over. your hands grab onto whatever they can find – gripping the sheets, holding onto his bicep, in a feeble attempt to ground yourself. 

you’re so close already, but keeho is even closer. he’s panting above you, his sweat dripping onto your chest, his jaw clenched tightly as he tries to hold back the inevitable. “fuck– i’m not gonna last… god, i missed this tight cunt–”

the shaky praises tumble out of his mouth one by one as his movements grow sloppy and uncoordinated, until he can’t hold it anymore and thrusts deep one last time as his cock twitches and spills ropes of thick cum inside your gummy walls.

you expected that to be enough to drag you over with him, but it’s not – not when he stops his movements altogether while he pulls himself together and catches his breath. 

you let out a frustrated whine, trying to push weakly at his shoulders. “k-keeho… please–” all you hear is a hitch of his breath before he pulls out, grabs your waist, fingers digging into your sides, and flips you over onto your stomach. your face is pushed into the pillow with a rough push on your head, and your hips are pulled up to present your damp, pulsing pussy. 

“you’re so fucking greedy,” keeho mutters. one hand gropes your ass cheek to spread you wider as he trails a finger through your folds where his cum is already trickling out of your hole. “you haven’t changed a bit, huh?”

the mocking chuckle he lets out when you push back against his hand needily makes your pussy flood with another wave of arousal, only affirming his statement. but he’s already half-hard again too, and he’s not about to deny you when you’re asking so nicely.

he slams into you with the same force as the first time, with the only difference being your cunt being used to his girth and the significant amount of lube produced in the meantime, so this time he fucks into you without any resistance whatsoever.

a sharp smack lands on your ass in time with another thrust so deep your face gets buried in the sheets, his other hand pulling you back onto him with a hold on your waist. 

“you squeeze me so good,” he grunts, watching your hole swallow his cock like it never wants to let go. “i bet he doesn’t fuck you like i do, hm?”

you mewl, fingers fisting the sheets, your words barely coherent in between moans and whines. “he’s not– mhmm… f-fucking me–”

the whimper morphs into a gasp when keeho suddenly lets go of his grip on you and instead lowers himself over you to take your arms and yank you backwards, hips pistoning into you faster as he holds you on your knees, back arched in a way that lets the tip of his cock hit the sweet spot every time. “a-ah–!” “doesn’t fucking matter,” keeho’s breath against your ear sends shivers down your spine. “you’re gonna miss this cock no matter who you end up with. no one knows your body like i do.”

and, god, you can’t even argue with that with the way your cunt is dripping, arousal trickling down your thighs with every precise thrust, your lips parted in a string of never-ending moans of pleasure. the feeling is building up impossibly fast, your climax approaching before you can fully realise – but keeho feels it. he can tell your pussy is clamping down on him harder and that your moans are becoming louder and more breathless, and he knows just how to force it out of you.

tightening the hold on your left arm, he lets go of the right one to slide his hand down your abdomen and between your thighs, and presses down on your clit in rough circular motions. “come on… fucking cream on my cock.” that’s all it takes for you to fall over with a ragged cry. the coil snaps and you nearly black out, ecstasy washing over you and swallowing you whole. your legs shake and your knees buckle, your cunt spasming around keeho’s twitching cock.

he lets out a curse under his breath at the tightness as he fucks you through your orgasm, and soon enough he joins you in the bliss, emptying his balls inside you for the second time with a rough groan.

when you come back to your senses and open your eyes, you’re lying on your back on the soft bed with keeho in the same position, panting beside you. you’re not touching, a safe space of at least half a meter separating you, but the air reeks of sex and you’re sweaty and gross and it’s all starting to dawn on you.

what have you done? you were supposed to be over him, not all over him. fuck, you were over him! stupid, stupid, stupid.

rushed by the panic rising inside you, you push yourself up without a word and start the search for your clothes scattered over the floor. how the hell are you going to explain this to shota? or, fucking hell, to taeyang?

keeho’s head raises from the bed while you’re pulling on your jeans, your bra clasped clumsily and your shirt hung over your arm. 

“where are you going?” he asks groggily, as if he managed to fall asleep in however little time it’s been since you finished… that.

you consider not replying, but the decent part of you decides he deserves at least some kind of explanation after he just had sex with his ex-girlfriend, even if you both know it was a mistake. “i have to go back to taeyang.” 

his eyebrows furrow, the ugly feeling weighing on his chest once again at the mention of his now-past friend. he pushes himself up on his elbows, watching you pull on your top and attempt to smooth down your hair on your way to the door.

“but–”

“bye, keeho.” the room falls silent after the door slams shut, the sound ringing in his ears like tinnitus. he blinks, staring at nothing for a long while as he gathers his thoughts, before he lets himself fall back onto the bed and throws an arm over his eyes with a whispered curse.

you’re gone. again.

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i'm truly sorry you've been going through this as well and i wish you all the best from the bottom of my heart, but with all respect to your opinion and experience i don't need an explanation on how eds work, as i said in one of the previous asks i've been there and never during those years have i had a single thought to share my weight or meal plan online in the way that he does and i think it is wrong at its core

+ we still need to remember that his 'ed' is hypothetical so assuming he has a distorted view on himself/whatever food related and using it as an excuse might be a stretch

well i didn't really mean to i just wanted to joke about jongseob being on timeout but ig the cat is out of the bag

i think first and foremost it's important we don't assume anything, i do believe he should be educated not to talk about delicate stuff in this manner, but if he actually has a problem then spreading rumors might only encourage him + i'm sure if that's the situation the members already know about it and are doing their best to help him

but i agree with u that maybe talking about his "little waist" or whatever might not be appropriate when he's showing clear signs that he's hyperfocusing on his weight to some degree

yes i understand what you're saying and if he's actually struggling with an ed i feel extremely sorry for him, but the industry or the korean culture is no excuse to be saying shit like that as a person with a platform of thousands of people (in majority young women mind you) that look up to him in one way or another

idk if it's news and but he's been talking a whole lot about his weight and calories and skipping meals in a way that really looks like promoting disordered eating + some lowkey fatphobic comments here and there