bsf!jungwon × fem!reader.⠀⠀⠀ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⠀⠀⠀you're jungwon's favorite headache—a fact that he can't bring himself to admit, and you can't bring your dense self to realize.
MASTERLIST. ┆ CONTAINS ➤ SMAU. college!au. to be loved is to be known type shi. ACTS-OF-SERVICE!WON!!!!! he's a lil dry and nonchalant but still pathetic and down BADDDD. reader's a bit oblivious and dumb. slowburn. fluff. angst. two idiots in love. profanity. miscommunication. comedy, maybe. petnames (princess, baby, etc.) ignore timestamps & typos. ✮ cameos from enhypen's ni-ki, riize's anton, &team's maki, illit, and other idols.
𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨.ᐟ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 ♡
RUIN THE FRIENDSHIP┆𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦 ─ 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧
FROM YAN 🐰 ➤ early update for the 2.5k milestone !! < 3 anyw, can we get some Ws in the chat for the ultimate goat nishimura riki. as usual, please lmk what u guys think. i < 3 talking to y'all in the replies bc u guys crack me the Fuckkkk up 😭🙏
bsf!jungwon × fem!reader.⠀⠀⠀ ⋆✴︎˚｡⋆⠀⠀⠀you're jungwon's favorite headache—a fact that he can't bring himself to admit, and you can't bring your dense self to realize.
MASTERLIST. ┆ CONTAINS ➤ SMAU. college!au. to be loved is to be known type shi. ACTS-OF-SERVICE!WON!!!!! he's a lil dry and nonchalant but still pathetic and down BADDDD. reader's a bit oblivious and dumb. slowburn. fluff. angst. two idiots in love. profanity. miscommunication. comedy, maybe. petnames (princess, baby, etc.) ignore timestamps & typos. ✮ cameos from enhypen's ni-ki, riize's anton, &team's maki, illit, and other idols.
𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨.ᐟ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥
RUIN THE FRIENDSHIP┆𝗣𝗥𝗘𝗩𝗜𝗢𝗨𝗦 ─ 𝗡𝗘𝗫𝗧
FROM YAN 🐰 ➤ shit tonne of typos mistakes here . pls bare w ur stupid author LASDAKLSDJA also they're both starting to gain consciousness... y'all know what that means!! 😝😝😝 also if ur in the taglists pls lmk if its working on ur end :( ty!!
content: smau ⟡ tattooartist!riki x reader ⟡ profanity ⟡ suggestive ⟡ riki lowkey in love with reader
a/n: sorry if this feels like its moving fast im lowk trying to keep this series short and sweet if possible... 🥀 just assume theres time passing between texts...
go follow my insta @ nishimmortal ! i post teasers and polls for future posts on there so check it out :)
to be added to my taglist, please visit my taglist post!
masterlist ⟡ 1 ⟡ 2 ⟡ 3
(if you're viewing this from a reblog please check the original post or my masterlist for updates! (because reblogs don't update when i edit the og post)
sypnosis when keonho posts a picture of his sister and seonghyeon, his bestfriend suddenly forgets how to act.
pairing non idol!eom seonghyeon x keonho's sister!reader. reader portrayed as stella from hearts2hearts. ahn keonho! as readers brother.
warnings ! alot of swearing, attempts at humour, gay jokes, seonghyeon is down bad and its very obvious. do not mind the timestamps pls!!
a/n hello everyone!! this is my first ever au on this account and its genuinely something i came up with quick but i really do hope you enjoy it!! if you have any other smau ideas pls request bc im so down for anything. part 2 will be out in a while (will link it here when im finished)!! thank you sm and enjoy ❤
written for the heart’s mailroom event ! ༊
✷ when your first experience with smoking goes disastrously wrong at a crowded house party, your boyfriend, nishimura riki, stays by your side through the panic !
🗯️ 内容 marijuana use, smoking, anxiety symptoms, nausea, a bit of crying on reader's end, established relationship, first-time smoking, greening out, skinship, one forehead kiss, emotional reassurance !
EL’S ✷ BUBBLE : happy 1st of june, hoonguin nation ♡ this is kind of bad and rushed sawry . . also i was literally on wikihow’s how to enjoy a cigarette because i don't actually smoke so oops probably not that accurate but whatever >"< for my #1 plug!enha enjoyer, @bellaflippy 😎 thank you for da request mweheh
The bass was doing something foul to your chest cavity, and it wasn't the good kind of foul.
It pulsed through the floorboards of whatever house this was, you'd already forgotten the name of the girl who'd invited you, a friend of a friend of a friend, a thread so frayed it barely qualified as a connection. The lights were doing that thing where they strobed just slow enough to make you think the room was spinning when it absolutely was not.
Yet.
You were leaning against the kitchen counter, half-listening to someone talk about their semester abroad, nodding at intervals that you hoped approximated attentiveness, when Riki materialized beside you with that uncanny way he had of simply appearing in a space like he'd always been there. He smelled like cologne and cold air, having just come in from the balcony, and his hair was slightly windswept in a way that made him look like he'd been styled by the universe itself.
"You look like you're about to fall asleep standing up," he said, leaning his hip against the counter next to you.
"I'm awake," you said. "I'm very awake. I'm so awake that I'm bored of being awake."
He laughed, the laugh that crinkled his eyes and showed his teeth and made you feel like you'd won something you hadn't even known was a competition. "Okay, well, that's the problem then. You need something to do." He glanced around the kitchen, someone was mixing something in a green cup, two people were arguing about music by the blender, a girl was taking a selfie with the cookie jar on the counter for reasons unknown to science, and then he tilted his head toward the back door. "Come outside with me. It's quieter."
You followed him. You'd follow him anywhere, which was a thought you pushed down so fast it practically bruised.
The backyard was small and dark, lit only by the amber glow of a porch light and the cherry-end of a joint being passed between two guys sitting on the steps. Riki greeted them with a chin jerk, and they shuffled over to make room. He sat, and you sat beside him, close enough that your knee pressed against his thigh. The night air was cool against your arms, and you regretted not bringing a jacket, but the warmth radiating off his side was enough to take the edge off.
One of the guys, who just so happened to be your seatmate’s crush, who’s name started with either a Ju or a Jo, passed the joint to Riki, who took it between his fingers with a practiced ease that made your chest do a somersault for reasons unrelated to the smoke.
He drew, held, exhaled through his nose, and the smoke curled upward like it was trying to escape the atmosphere.
Then he glanced at you, the joint held loosely between his index and middle finger, and raised an eyebrow.
"You wanna try?"
Your mouth went dry. You'd never smoked before, not cigarettes, not anything. You'd been the kid who sat cross-legged on the floor during D.A.R.E. presentations and took the pamphlets home to your mom. You were so straight-edged you were practically a ruler.
And yet—
"I wouldn't even know how," you admitted, and you hated how small your voice sounded, how uncertain, like you were confessing to something shameful.
Riki's expression didn't change, no mockery, no surprise, just that steady, dark-eyed gaze that made you feel like the only person in a twenty-kilometer radius. "That's fine," he said simply. "I'll show you."
He turned toward you, and his free hand came up to cup the side of your face. Resting there, his palm warm against your jaw, his thumb grazing the hinge of it.
"Breathe in slow," he said, his voice low and close. "Don't hold it too long your first time. And don't cough into the joint—just aim past it." He brought the joint to your lips, and you parted them, and you inhaled.
It was like breathing in a campfire. The smoke hit the back of your throat like something alive and furious, and you immediately gagged, turning your head to the side to hack into your elbow while Riki's hand slid from your jaw to the back of your neck, anchoring you.
"Easy, easy," he murmured, his thumb rubbing a slow circle against the nape of your neck. "You're okay. Just breathe. Through your nose."
You wheezed. Your eyes were watering. The two guys on the steps were laughing, but not meanly. It was the kind of laugh that said they'd been exactly where you were, once. You blinked hard, sniffling, and Riki was still holding the back of your neck like you were something precious and fragile that he was afraid might shatter.
"That was terrible," you rasped.
"Yup, the first hit usually is," he said, and his mouth was doing that thing where it was trying not to smile but failing miserably, the corner of it quirking up in a way that made you want to bite him. "You want to try again?"
You did.
You don't know why the fuck you did — stubbornness, maybe, or the desire to seem cool in front of him, or just the simple animal wanting of putting your lips where his fingers had been.
You leaned in, and he guided the joint to your mouth again, and this time you pulled the smoke in more gently, holding it for a few seconds before letting it drift out.
"Better," he approved, and the warmth in his voice was enough to make your chest tight.
You passed it back. He took another drag. You sat in the dark and the quiet and the smell of smoke and growing things, and you waited to feel something.
It took about fifteen minutes.
It didn't come on like a wave or a rush or any of the poetic things you'd read about.
It came on like a tide, slow, creeping, pulling the sand out from under your feet so gradually that by the time you realized you were standing in deeper water, the shore was already far away.
Your heartbeat was loud. Not fast, just loud, like it had moved from your chest to your ears to the inside of your skull and was now echoing around in there like a drum in an empty gymnasium. Your hands felt foreign. You stared at them, turned them over, watched the lamplight play across your knuckles, and thought distantly that they looked like someone else's hands, like props you'd been handed at the door.
"Hey."
Riki's voice cut through the fog. You looked up. He was watching you with an expression you couldn't parse, definitely not worried, but alert, the way he looked right before a chorus hit, like he was reading the shape of something before it arrived.
"Are you okay? Dizzy? Anything?"
"I think," you started, and then stopped, because your tongue felt like it was made of something that tongues should not be made of. Cotton, maybe. Sand. "I think I feel weird."
"Weird how?"
You tried to articulate it.
Your heart was too loud and your hands were too far away and the ground felt like it was tilting, slowly, like a ship in mild seas, not enough to knock you over but enough to make you want to grip something.
Also, you were hot, too hot, and your skin was prickling with it, and the edges of your vision were doing something soft and strange, like a photograph left in the sun.
"Everything's too much," you whispered, and then your eyes were stinging, and you were mortified to realize that you were about to cry, which was absurd, because nothing was wrong, nothing was actually wrong, your body was just doing something you didn't understand and you couldn't make it stop and you were scared, you were so scared, and you couldn't say any of that so instead you just sat there with your lips pressed together trying not to let the tears fall.
"Hey, hey, hey." Riki's voice went soft in a way you'd never heard before, not his teasing-you-relentlessly voice, but something underneath all of that, something quiet and sure and private.
He stubbed out the joint on the step without looking away from you, and then both of his hands were on your face, cupping your cheeks, tilting your head up so you had to look at him.
"You're greening out," he said, and his tone was so calm it was almost funny. "It's okay. It happens. You're not going to be sick, you're just a little too damn high, no? It's going to feel really intense for a bit, like—really fucking intense. And then it's going to pass. I promise. I'm right here."
A tear slipped out, and he caught it with the pad of his thumb, swiping it away like it was nothing, like your tears were his responsibility and he was simply doing his job.
"I'm sorry," you choked. "I didn't mean to—I shouldn't have—"
"Stop." Gentle, but firm. His thumbs traced along your cheekbones, back and forth, back and forth, a rhythm like a lullaby. "You have nothing to apologize for. You tried something new and it was just too much for you, and that’s completely okay. That's not a crime or anything. Don’t worry.”
Your heart was still pounding, still too loud, but the panic was thinning now, like clouds parting, because his hands were on your face and his eyes were on yours and he was so steady, so impossibly steady, like he'd anchored himself to the ground just so you'd have something to hold onto.
"Breathe with me," he said.
"In—" He inhaled, slow and deliberate, and you copied him, pulling air in until your lungs were full. "—and out." He exhaled, and you exhaled, and the world tilted a little less. "Again. In—"
You breathed together. In and out, in and out, his hands steady on your face, his dark eyes holding yours the way a lighthouse holds a shoreline, slow and easy.
Your heartbeat slowed. The ground leveled. Your hands started to feel like yours again.
"There you go," he murmured. "Good. You're doing so good."
He didn't let go of your face. You didn't want him to. You leaned into his palms like a cat leaning into a touch, and he let you, shifting one hand to the back of your head, cradling it, his fingers sliding into your hair and scratching gently at your scalp in a way that sent shivers down your spine that had nothing to do with being high.
"I feel like some stupid ass idiot," you mumbled against his wrist.
"You feel like someone who's never done this before and did too much their first time," he corrected. "Which is what you are. And that's fine."
The two guys from the steps had gone back inside at some point, and the yard was quiet save for the muffled thump of bass through the walls and the singing of crickets in the dark.
Riki's arm slid around your shoulders, and he pulled you into his side, and you went willingly, collapsing against him like a puppet with its strings cut.
He was warm, solid, and he smelled like smoke and his cologne and something underneath that was just him, just warmth and boy, and you pressed your face into his shoulder and breathed.
"Still feeling weird?" he asked, his voice rumbling through his chest and into your cheek.
"A little." A pause. "Less."
His hand was on your arm now, fingertips tracing idle patterns — circles, spirals, shapes that might have been letters, along the inside of your forearm. The touch was feather-light, almost absent-minded, and it was doing something to your nervous system that you didn't have the vocabulary to describe.
Every place he touched felt like a small sun, warm and bright and alive, and the anxiety that had been clawing at the edges of your mind melted away under the gentle insistence of his fingers on your skin.
"Tell me what you're feeling," he said.
"Floaty," you said. "And warm. And like..." You hesitated. "Like I want you to keep doing that forever."
His hand stilled for just a second, and then resumed its wandering, tracing up your arm to your shoulder, across the back of your neck, down your spine.
"Of course, I can do that," he said, and his voice was rough in a way you hadn't heard before, rough and soft at the same time, like sandpaper wrapped in silk.
You shifted against him, tilting your head up, and he looked down at you, and the porch light caught his features at an angle that made him look like a painting, all shadows and angles and that impossible jawline that probably had its own fanclub.
His eyes were warm and he was looking at you like you were something worth looking at, and the high was still humming through your veins but it was different now, not scary but soft, like floating in warm water, and everything felt gauzy and golden.
His hand came up to your face again.
Not cupping — just the backs of his fingers, trailing along your cheekbone, down the bridge of your nose, across the bow of your upper lip. Touching you like he was memorizing the architecture of your face, like he was reading you in braille, like you were a text he wanted to study until he knew every word by heart.
"You're okay now?" he asked again.
"I'm okay," you said, and meant it.
He smiled. It was small, just the faintest upturn at the corner of his mouth, but it reached his eyes, crinkling them, and it was so tender it almost hurt to look at.
Then he leaned down, and his lips pressed gently against your forehead, warm, dry, lingering, and he held there for a long moment, long enough for you to feel the shape of his mouth against your skin, long enough for the kiss to mean something, long enough for you to catalog it and file it away in the part of your brain where you kept the things you'd think about at 3 a.m. when you couldn't sleep.
When he pulled back, his forehead was almost touching yours, and his breath was warm on your face. He smelled like smoke and mint and something sweet underneath, and his fingers were still tracing slow circles on the back of your hand.
"Next time," he said quietly, "I'll make sure you take less. And I'll stay right next to you the whole time."
"Next time?" you echoed, your voice barely above a whisper.
He squeezed your hand. "You think I'm letting you do this with anyone else?"
The words landed somewhere between your ribs and refused to budge.
You stared at him, and he stared at you, and the crickets sang, and the bass thumped, and the world was still a little tilted and a little too bright and a little too much, but you were warm, you were safe, Riki was holding your hand, and he had kissed your forehead and he had said "next time" like it was a promise, like it was a given, like of course there would be a next time, because he wasn't going anywhere.
You rested your head against his shoulder again, and his arm tightened around you.
"You're still a little out of it," he observed, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
"Mm," you agreed. "But in a good way now."
"In a good way," he confirmed. And then, quieter, almost to himself, like he wasn't sure you could hear him but maybe hoping you could: "Good. That's good. That's exactly how you should feel."
A breeze rolled through the yard, cool against your bare arms, and you shivered. Without a word, Riki shifted, tugging the hem of his jacket out from where he'd been sitting on it, and draped it over your shoulders.
It was warm from his body heat and it smelled like him, and you pulled it tighter around yourself and pressed your nose to the collar and breathed, and he watched you do it with an expression that you couldn't see but could feel, warm and careful and something else.
✷ NOTE : thank you all so, so much for reading ! i hope you enjoyed this little world for a while ♡ all of this is purely a work of fiction & doesn’t reflect reality at all . . likes, reblogs, and feedback are deeply cherished and very, very appreciated on here !
黑穗病 ─── "I'm not drunk enough to answer that tonight." after months of fantasizing about your best friend, he finally teaches you what real sex with him feels like.
ⳇ 𝓟 airing ╸ bff!jay x needy!f!reader
ⳇ w/c: 12.5k
㰙꯭ؚۣۙۗ㰛꯭ؚؔ 𝓦arnings: MDNI, overstimulation, unprotected sex, edging, mild ass play, rough sex, fingering, oral sex (f!rec), orgasm denial, hair holding, creampie, tipsy sex, lmk if moree
𝓡ina's note: firstofall, want to apologize bcuz i think theres a repeated part bcuz tumblr froze on me, n even though ive read it twice i cant find it and im going crazy... second... i wasn't quite sure how to write Jay's personality, n im taking a little longer with Sunoo's, so in between ig i'll do a smau asked for n if u want to request something, go ahead, headcanons or smau for u«3 reblog or life if uliked ittt
总清单之家 check my ::⠀ ⠀، ⠀ ── 𝓜asterlist 𝓗ome
You had been in love with Jay Park since the second year of high school.
It started as something quieter than a crush — a slow, warm pull every time he leaned over your desk to show you a riff on his phone, or when he'd wait for you after class with one earbud dangling, offering the other so you could listen to the same song.
He was always cool, a little sharp with his humor, but never cruel.
He remembered the small things: how you liked your coffee, the way you fiddled with your sleeves when you were nervous, the fact that you secretly wanted to learn guitar even though you were convinced your fingers were too clumsy.
Two months had passed since graduation, and the two of you had slipped into this strange new version of adulthood.
No more uniforms, no more bells dictating your day. just late nights, cheap takeout, and the growing tension that neither of you had named.
You told yourself it was just a silly, accumulation of caring over the years.
But lately it had become something heavier. needier.
Because it wasn't just his smile or the way he looked at you like he could read every thought behind your eyes.
It was the guitar lessons.
Every few nights you ended up in his room — that warm, low-lit sanctuary at the back of his aparment.
Soft golden lighting, the faint scent of his cologne mixed with wood polish and whatever bottle of wine he'd opened that evening.
He'd sit behind you on the bed or on that worn leather stool, chest brushing your back as he guided your fingers along the fretboard.
His voice would drop low when he corrected your posture, breath warm against your ear.
And every single time, you left that room wet, aching, and painfully aware of how badly you wanted more than just his hands on yours.
Tonight, that ache felt louder than usual.
The restaurant was still buzzing when you all stepped outside.
The four of you had taken over a corner table for nearly three hours — pasta plates half-empty, bottles of soju and beer scattered like evidence.
Heeseung had been the calm anchor as always, laughing deeply at Jake's ridiculous stories about his latest failed attempt at cooking.
Jake, true to form, had been loud and playful, teasing you about how red your cheeks got after your third glass.
"Alright, i'm tapping out" Heeseung said, stretching his arms above his head. he grinned at you and Jay. "you two heading back too?"
Jake slung an arm around your shoulders for a second, giving you a quick squeeze. "don't let Jay bore you to death with more guitar talk."
You laughed, the sound a little loose from the alcohol. "too late. i think i'm officially addicted."
Jay stood a step behind you, hands in the pockets of his dark jacket, watching the exchange with that trademark half-smirk.
He hadn't drunk much — maybe one beer the whole night. he never did when he knew he'd be the one making sure everyone got home safe.
"Get home safe, hyung" Jay told Heeseung, bumping fists. "Jake, stop burning your kitchen down."
Jake flipped him off playfully as he and Heeseung headed toward the main road to catch a cab. you waved until they disappeared around the corner, the streetlights catching their silhouettes.
And then it was just you and Jay.
It was barely past 9 PM, but the city had already slipped into that quieter, darker version of itself.
The restaurant sat on a side street lined with closed shops and a few scattered people hurrying home.
Neon signs flickered softly in the distance. your cheeks felt warm, the alcohol humming pleasantly in your veins, making everything feel a little softer around the edges.
Jay glanced at you, dark eyes scanning your face.
"You good?" he asked, voice low and steady. "you look a little flushed."
"I'm fine" you answered, maybe a touch too quickly.
You smiled up at him, feeling bolder than usual. "just… warm. and i don't really want to go home yet. my brothers are probably screaming at some video game right now. your place is quieter."
He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching. that familiar mix of amusement and something unreadable.
"You sure? i can drop you off. you drank more than usual tonight."
You stepped a little closer, the alcohol loosening your usual shyness. "i'm sure. i'd rather be with you."
The words came out softer than you meant them to, almost flirty. Jay's gaze lingered on you for a beat longer than normal before he nodded.
"Alright. let's go."
The walk to his place wasn't long.
Jay kept pace beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed every few steps. he didn't say much, but he was always like that — comfortable in silence.
Every once in a while he'd glance over to make sure you were steady on your feet.
When you finally reached his apartment, you stepped into his room, the familiar warmth settled over you like a blanket.
The lighting was exactly how he liked it: soft, gold tones from the tall floor lamp in the corner.
His acoustic guitar rested on its stand beside the electric one. a half-finished bottle of red wine sat on the low wooden table next to two clean glasses.
The small leather couch had a couple of blankets thrown over it, and the walls held photos — some of the group, some of just the two of you from random outings over the years.
It smelled like him: wood, faint cologne, and that subtle hint of wine that always seemed to linger here.
Jay shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over the back of his chair.
"Sit" he said, nodding toward the couch. "i'll get you some water first. you're going to thank me tomorrow."
You dropped onto the couch, watching him move around the room with that effortless confidence.
Even after years of friendship, you never got tired of looking at him. the sharp line of his jaw, the way his black hair fell across his forehead, the casual way his shirt stretched across his shoulders.
He came back with a glass of cold water and handed it to you before pouring himself a small amount of wine.
"You're really not that drunk, are you?" you asked, teasing lightly as you sipped the water.
Jay chuckled, settling beside you on the couch. not quite touching, but close enough that you could feel the heat of his body.
"I'm sober enough to know you're tipsy" he replied, voice smooth. "and sober enough to know you get chatty when you are."
You laughed softly, pulling your legs up onto the couch.
The alcohol made your thoughts swirl — memories of all those guitar lessons mixing with the deeper, filthier ones you tried to push down.
You'd been in love with him for years.
But lately, the need had grown teeth.
It wasn't just romantic anymore.
You wanted him.
Wanted his hands on you for reasons that had nothing to do with chord positions. wanted to know what his mouth felt like. wanted to taste him.
To have his cock in your mouth, heavy and warm, to hear the way his voice would break if you took him deep.
Not anyone else's. just Jay's.
Those thoughts had been getting louder since the lessons started two months ago.
Every time his fingers covered yours on the strings, every time his chest pressed against your back and he murmured instructions against your ear… you left his room throbbing, panties ruined, fingers slipping between your legs the second you got home.
And now here you were again, in his room, a little drunk, heart racing.
"Now you're quiet" Jay observed, tilting his head. his dark eyes studied you carefully. "what's going on in that head of yours?"
You bit your lip, feeling heat rise to your cheeks that had nothing to do with the alcohol.
"Just… thinking about how long we've been friends" you said, keeping your voice light. "feels weird sometimes. like we're actual adults now."
Jay hummed in agreement, taking a slow sip of wine. "yeah. but some things don't change." he glanced at you, a small smirk playing on his lips. "you still suck at guitar."
You gasped dramatically, shoving his shoulder. he laughed — that low, rich sound you loved — and caught your wrist gently before you could pull away.
"See? still easy to mess with."
His thumb brushed over the inside of your wrist, just once. the touch sent electricity straight down your spine. you didn't pull away.
The air between you felt thicker than usual. the golden lighting cast soft shadows across his face, making him look even more unfairly handsome. you could smell his cologne again, warm and familiar.
"Jay…" you started, not even sure what you wanted to say.
He raised an eyebrow, still holding your wrist loosely.
"Yeah?"
You swallowed. the need you’d been carrying for years — the filthy, aching want — sat heavy on your tongue. but you weren't brave enough yet.
Instead, you just smiled, shy but warm, and leaned your head against his shoulder like you'd done a hundred times before.
"I'm glad you're my best friend" you whispered.
Jay was quiet for a moment. then his hand shifted, resting lightly on your knee.
"Me too" he murmured.
But his fingers stayed there, warm through the fabric of your jeans, and neither of you moved to change the subject.
The night was still young, and the tension that had been building for years felt dangerously close to spilling over.
The water helped a little, but the alcohol still buzzed warmly through your system, making your limbs feel loose and your thoughts dangerously unguarded.
You watched Jay move across the room with that effortless grace he always had. he reached for one of his guitars, and your breath caught.
He picked up the acoustic — his prized custom-made gibson Vesper.
The instrument looked beautiful under the soft café-gold lighting: dark wood with elegant black binding, sleek and modern with a vampire-inspired design he'd once explained to you in detail.
It was his baby, the one he played when he wanted something intimate and warm-toned.
"I've been working on a new melody" he said casually, settling on the stool across from the couch. his long fingers wrapped around the neck of the Vesper like it was an extension of himself. "want to hear it?"
You nodded, maybe a little too eagerly. "yeah… show me."
He strummed a few soft chords first, then launched into the short piece. just five or six seconds of a smooth, melancholic melody that shifted into something warmer, almost seductive in its simplicity.
His eyebrows furrowed slightly in concentration, lips parted just a fraction as he focused. the way his fingers moved — precise, confident, pressing and sliding along the frets — made heat pool low in your stomach.
God, you didn't even know if you actually cared about learning guitar anymore.
Was it the music? or was it just him?
The way his forearms flexed, the focused set of his jaw, the way the warm light caught on his sharp cheekbones and made his dark hair look softer.
You wanted him so badly it embarrassed you sometimes.
Especially tonight, with the alcohol making your skin feel too hot and your inhibitions paper-thin.
In your head, the thoughts were already spiraling: kneeling between his legs, taking his cock into your mouth, tasting him, hearing that low voice of his break while you sucked him deep. not just any dick. his.
Jay finished the short melody and looked up, smirking when he saw your expression.
"Not bad, right?" he asked.
"It was beautiful" you said honestly, your voice a little breathy. "i love how it sounds on the Vesper."
He stood and walked over, offering you the guitar. "you know the basics now. let's try teaching you your first real short melody. nothing too crazy."
You took the Vesper carefully, the wood warm from his hands.
On the outside, you looked focused and innocent, adjusting the strap and sitting up straighter.
"Posture." Jay reminded you.
He moved behind you on the couch, one leg on either side of your body so he could reach around. his chest pressed lightly against your back as he corrected the angle of the guitar on your lap.
One hand settled on your shoulder to straighten your back, the other sliding down to adjust your left hand on the fretboard.
His touch was warm. deliberate.
You bit your lip hard without thinking, a quiet little sound escaping as his fingers covered yours, guiding them into position. the alcohol made it impossible to hide your reaction — your cheeks burned, your thighs pressed together instinctively.
Jay paused. you could feel him smirk against the side of your head.
"Easy there" he murmured, voice low and teasing near your ear. "don't break my strings with that death grip. or is the Vesper too much for you tonight?"
You let out a shaky laugh. "shut up. i'm trying."
He didn't move away immediately. his fingers stayed over yours a second longer than necessary, then he pulled back just enough to watch but remained close.
"Go ahead. start with the first four chords i showed you last time. slow."
You tried.
Your fingers felt clumsier than usual from the drinks, but you managed to hit the notes — not fluid, not pretty, but recognizable. better than a total beginner.
The Vesper's rich tone filled the room even with your imperfect playing.
Jay hummed approvingly. "not terrible. you're improving."
Then, out of nowhere, he dropped the bomb.
"So… how was that blind date with Sunghoon a week ago?"
Your fingers slipped. a horrible, discordant twang rang out from the guitar. you winced.
"Why are you asking about that?" you said quickly, glancing over your shoulder at him.
Jay shrugged, leaning back against the couch but still watching you closely. his expression was casual, but his eyes were sharp. "just curious. Jake mentioned Sunghoon told him you two… hooked up."
The room felt suddenly warmer. you stared down at the guitar, fingers frozen on the strings.
It was true.
You'd gone on that blind date desperate to convince yourself that your insane attraction to Jay was just horniness. just lack of sex.
Sunghoon was good-looking, you'd slept with him after a couple of drinks. the sex had been… fine. mechanically okay.
But it left you emptier than before. because all you could think about during and after was Jay. how you wished it was Jay's hands, Jay's mouth.
It had only made your filthy fantasies about your best friend worse.
You tried to play it off, strumming a few awkward notes that sounded completely off-key. "Jake needs to mind his own business. why is he such a gossip?"
Jay chuckled, that low, amused sound that always sent shivers down your spine. he reached over and gently corrected your finger placement again, his touch lingering.
"Because he's Jake. and you're avoiding the question."
You huffed, the alcohol making you bolder even as embarrassment burned your face. "it happened, okay? it was… whatever. not life-changing."
Jay raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained by how flustered you were getting. "not life-changing? damn. poor Sunghoon. but ifeel like details are missing."
You shot him a look, trying to sound defensive. "i've grown up, you know. i'm not that irresponsible girl from high school who told you every dirty detail about her first time in graphic, disgusting detail anymore."
Jay laughed outright at that, leaning closer again. his breath brushed your neck.
"Oh yeah? because i remember that conversation very clearly. you did not hold back. 'it felt like a sad hot dog in a hallway' was the line that still lives rent-free in my head."
You groaned, covering your face with one hand while still awkwardly holding the guitar with the other. "i was drunk and stupid! and like… seventeen."
"You're still a little drunk tonight" he pointed out, voice teasing but softer. "and still oversharing, apparently."
The conversation hung between you, heavy with years of history. you tried to play again, but your notes kept clashing — messy, out of rhythm, completely unfocused.
Jay didn't stop you. he just watched, eyes dark and thoughtful under the warm lighting.
You sighed. "it was just an escape, Jay. i thought maybe if i… did something, it would quiet my head. but it didn't. it was okay, but… it wasn't..." you trailed off, not brave enough to finish that sentence.
It wasn't you.
Jay was quiet for a long moment. his hand came to rest on your lower back, a casual but intimate touch as he leaned in to adjust your right hand strumming position.
"You're thinking too hard" he said eventually, voice low. "that's why it sounds like the guitar is in pain."
You laughed despite yourself, the sound shaky.
Being this close to him, drunk, with his hands on you and your mind full of filthy thoughts about sucking him off right here in this room… it was torture.
The lesson continued like that for a while longer.
Jay guided you through the simple melody, patient even when your playing fell apart. every correction involved him touching you — fingers on yours, hand on your waist to fix posture, knee brushing your thigh.
Each touch sent sparks through your body.
At one point you shifted on the couch, and your thigh pressed firmly against his. you didn't move away. neither did he.
"You're really warm" he commented after a while, almost absentmindedly. "still feeling the drinks?"
"Yeah" you admitted, biting your lip again as his fingers guided yours into a new chord. "everything feels… a lot right now."
Jay hummed. his voice dropped lower. "i can tell."
The air in the room felt thicker.
And as Jay leaned in once more to correct your hand, his lips accidentally brushing the shell of your ear as he murmured instructions, you wondered how much longer you could keep pretending this was just about learning guitar.
The warmth of his breath sent a shiver racing down your spine. you froze, fingers stiffening on the frets of the Vesper.
The rich, dark wood of the guitar felt heavier in your lap now, like it knew the real reason your heart was hammering.
"I… i think i can't keep playing right now" you admitted, voice softer than you intended. the alcohol made your words feel thick on your tongue. "i'd love to, though. your Vesper sounds so beautiful. it's honestly such a pretty guitar. the tone is just… perfect."
Jay pulled back slightly, a low chuckle rumbling from his chest. that sound — God, that sound — always did dangerous things to you.
He reached around you to gently take the guitar from your hands, his fingers brushing over yours one last time.
"Yeah? she's my favorite for a reason" he said, standing up with the instrument.
He walked over to the stand and carefully placed the custom Gibson Vesper back in its spot, adjusting it with the same care he always showed his things.
You watched him move, the soft golden lighting casting gentle shadows along his shoulders and arms.
The room felt smaller now. cozier. the faint scent of wine still lingered in the air, mixing with his cologne and the wood polish from his guitars.
He turned back to you, hands sliding into the pockets of his jeans. "it's getting late anyway. past eleven already. you're pretty drunk, and i'm not letting you go home like this. you can just stay over. saves time, and your brothers are probably still up causing chaos."
You let out a bright, tipsy laugh, the kind that came out a little too loud because of the alcohol. "yeah? okay. i'd like that. a lot, actually."
Jay's smirk deepened, but there was something softer behind it. "didn't even think twice, huh?"
"Nope" you said, popping the 'p' playfully.
He walked over to the built-in closet near the back of the room and pulled out clothes. two oversized t-shirts — one black, one dark gray — and a pair of soft black pajama shorts.
He held them out to you.
'Here. you can wear these. that dress looks cute but it's not exactly sleep-friendly. too cold in here at night if you're not covered up properly."
You stood up, a little unsteady, and took the clothes from him.
Your fingers brushed his, and you felt that familiar spark again. "thanks, Jay."
Before he could say anything else, you grabbed the bundle and slipped behind the heavy cream-colored curtain that separated the small changing corner from the rest of the room.
It was something he'd put up after one too many late-night study sessions when you'd crash here.
You heard him laugh quietly on the other side.
"Drunk you is way shyer than sober you" he teased, voice warm with amusement. "usually you just strip down in front of me like i'm not even here. claiming 'we're best friends, it doesn't matter.' but the second alcohol hits… curtain time."
You fumbled with the zipper of your dress, cheeks burning. "shut up. i'm being responsible."
"Responsible" he echoed, clearly not buying it. you could hear him moving around, already changing too. "sure."
"I am!" you called back, laughing as you pulled his t-shirt over your head. it smelled like him — clean laundry, faint cologne, and that comforting warmth that always made your stomach flip.
The shorts were a little loose on your hips, but they were soft and comfortable. "i've grown up. i'm not that chaotic high school girl anymore."
You stepped out from behind the curtain, adjusting the hem of the oversized shirt. and then you stopped dead.
Jay was in the middle of pulling his own shirt on.
He already had the gray pajama shorts on, hanging low on his hips, but his torso was still bare. the warm lighting highlighted every line of muscle on his chest and abdomen — the result of casual gym sessions.
His skin looked smooth, shoulders broad, that sharp V-line disappearing into the waistband of his shorts.
You let out a soft, involuntary exhale, almost a gasp. your heart skipped hard.
Jay noticed immediately. he tugged the shirt down quickly, but not before you got a full view.
His eyebrow arched, that signature smirk returning.
"Damn. you really are wasted tonight" he said, voice low and teasing as he stepped closer. "if you want, i can tie you up so you can control yourself better. keep those wandering eyes in check."
Your brain short-circuited for a second.
Yes. God, yes. tie me up. use me. anything.
The filthy thought flashed through your mind so fast it made you dizzy. but on the outside, you just let out a nervous laugh, shoving his shoulder lightly.
"Stop it" you mumbled, still smiling. "i'm fine. perfectly fine. just… surprised you're changing in the middle of the room, that's all."
He chuckled, running a hand through his dark hair. "this is my room. and you've seen me shirtless plenty of times. at the beach last summer, remember? or when we went swimming at Sunoo's parents' pool?"
"That was different" you muttered, walking over to the couch and dropping down onto it, pulling one of the soft blankets over your legs.
Your face felt hot. the alcohol wasn't helping you hide anything.
Jay followed, sitting on the other end of the couch but turning toward you. the room felt even more intimate now — just the two of you in comfortable clothes, the golden lights dimmed slightly, the faint sound of the city outside barely audible.
"So" he said after a moment, grabbing the half-empty bottle of water and taking a sip before offering it to you. "you really didn't enjoy it with Sunghoon?"
You groaned, covering your face with both hands. "we're back to this?"
"I'm curious" he said simply. "you're my best friend. if some guy didn't treat you right or couldn't make it good for you, i need to know. i'll kick his ass if necessary."
You peeked at him through your fingers. he looked genuinely relaxed, but there was that focused intensity in his eyes again — the same one he got when he was trying to read you.
"It wasn't bad" you said slowly, lowering your hands. "he was… nice. polite. good-looking, obviously. but it just felt… mechanical. like we were both going through the motions. i thought maybe sleeping with someone would help clear my head about certain things, but it only made it worse."
Jay tilted his head. "worse how?"
You shrugged, tracing patterns on the blanket with your finger.
Your mind was still swirling with images you couldn't say out loud —his low groans filling this exact room.
"Just… confirmed some stuff" you said vaguely. "that i'm probably not built for casual stuff. my brain gets too loud."
Jay was quiet for a beat. then he shifted closer, stretching his arm along the back of the couch until his fingers lightly brushed your shoulder again.
"You've always been like that" he murmured. "even back in high school. you overthink everything. except when you're telling me way too many details about your personal life."
You laughed, the sound breathy. "i was young and stupid. and you were the only person i trusted enough to say that stuff to."
"Still am?" he asked, voice quieter now.
You met his eyes. the tension between you felt alive, humming under the surface. "yeah. still you."
The silence stretched comfortably. Jay eventually stood up. he grabbed another blanket and tossed it over you before settling back down — closer this time, so your legs were almost touching.
"Remember when we first became friends?" he asked suddenly, staring at the ceiling. "you used to sit there during lunch, pretending you weren't listening to me play. i thought you were cute. shy, but cute."
Your heart fluttered. "i had the biggest crush on you for like… two years before i even admitted it to myself."
Jay turned his head to look at you, surprise flickering across his face for a split second before that cool mask returned. "Yeah?"
"Yeah" you whispered, the alcohol making you honest. "but you were always so… you. cool. talented. out of reach. so i settled for being your best friend instead."
He didn't answer right away. instead, he reached over and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. his touch lingered.
"You're not out of reach to me" he said softly.
The words hung heavy in the air. your body felt warm all over — from the drinks, from his proximity, from years of wanting.
You turned onto your side to face him better, the blanket slipping down slightly.
"Jay… can i ask you something?"
"Anything."
"Have you ever… thought about me like that? more than just a friend?"
He was quiet for a long moment, dark eyes studying your face. then he gave you that half-smirk again, the one that made your knees weak.
"I'm not drunk enough to answer that tonight."
You laughed, but there was nervous excitement bubbling inside you. "coward."
"Maybe" he said, chuckling. "or maybe i'm just responsible. one of us has to be when the other is this tipsy."
You spent the next hour talking like that — about old memories, stupid fights you had in high school, the group chats with Heeseung and Jake that always got chaotic, how weird it felt to be actual adults now.
Eventually, you both were in bed under thin blankets.
Jay's voice was low and soothing. every once in a while his hand would brush your arm, casual touches that felt anything but.
At some point you shifted, and your head ended up resting against his chest.
He didn't push you away. instead, his arm came around you, holding you loosely.
"You're warm" you mumbled sleepily, the alcohol finally catching up to you fully.
"So are you" he replied, voice barely above a whisper.
Your mind kept drifting back to filthy places even as sleep pulled at you — imagining sliding your hand under the waistband of his shorts, tasting his skin, hearing him say your name in that deep tone.
But for now, you let yourself enjoy the closeness. the safety.
Jay's fingers traced slow patterns on your back through the t-shirt.
"Get some sleep" he murmured against the top of your head. "we'll talk more in the morning. when you're sober."
You nodded, eyes already closing.
But even as you drifted off, safe in his arms in the soft golden light of his room, you knew one thing for certain:
Pretending was getting harder and harder.
You lay there for what felt like forever, curled against his side under the soft blanket, but sleep refused to come.
The alcohol had loosened your body, but your mind was wide awake, buzzing with years of suppressed feelings and the heavy warmth of Jay's arm draped loosely around you.
Every small shift of his body, every steady breath he took, made your skin prickle with awareness.
Jay wasn't sleeping either. you knew him too well — he never could fully relax until he knew you were safe and asleep. it was one of those quiet protective habits he'd had since high school.
With a soft sigh, you sat up slowly, the oversized t-shirt slipping slightly off one shoulder. you stayed close, your thigh still pressed against his.
Jay shifted beside you, propping himself up on one elbow. his dark hair was slightly messy, and his eyes scanned your face with that familiar sharpness.
"Can't sleep?" he asked quietly.
You shook your head. "too many thoughts."
He hummed in understanding but didn't push. for a moment, comfortable silence settled between you again. then you spoke, the alcohol still giving you just enough courage.
"You know… i doubt Jake would've randomly told you about Sunghoon unless you asked him first." you turned your head to look at him directly. "so why the curiosity, Jay?"
Jay let out a slow sigh, running a hand through his hair as he stared at the ceiling for a second. when he looked back at you, his expression was calm but serious.
"Because you're my best friend" he said simply. "it's my job to look out for you. to make sure no dickhead hurts you, gets your hopes up, or leaves you feeling like shit afterward. i've been doing that since we were in secondary school. nothing's changed."
You fell quiet, processing his words.
The weight of them sat heavy in your chest. his protection had always felt safe… but lately it felt like something more. something that made your stomach twist in confusing, needy ways.
Jay noticed your silence. he tilted his head slightly. "why are you thinking about all of this right now? you know i worry about you. that's not new."
You bit your lip, fingers playing with the edge of the blanket. "i guess… i've been wondering lately if i've ever mistaken your protection for something else. like… possessiveness."
Jay stared at you for a beat, then let out a low, genuine laugh — the kind that made his eyes crinkle at the corners.
He sat up fully now, swinging his legs so he was facing you directly. the movement brought him much closer, your knees nearly touching, his presence suddenly filling your space.
"Possessiveness?" he repeated, still chuckling in disbelief. "you're way too drunk to be throwing words like that around."
You met his gaze, your heart beating faster. "i'm drunk, but i'm sober enough to notice that you're the one acting weird tonight."
Jay laughed again, softer this time, shaking his head. "me? weird?"
He leaned in a little, voice dropping. "you're the one whose breathing keeps changing every time i get close. the one who keeps pressing your thighs together when my hand brushes your arm or when i fix your posture during lessons. you think i don't notice?"
Your mouth went dry. heat flooded your cheeks.
He was right — painfully right. you'd been doing exactly that for the past two months during every guitar session. and tonight, with the alcohol stripping away your filters, it was impossible to hide.
You stayed silent for a long moment, just looking at him. then you put on that fake-innocent expression you knew he could see right through — wide eyes, slight tilt of your head.
"If you know all of that… why don't you do anything about it?"
The question hung in the air like smoke. Jay's smirk faded into something more intense, more focused. his dark eyes searched yours carefully.
"Because i'd never do anything you haven't asked for" he said, voice low and steady. "not with you. never."
Your face grew hotter. you could feel the blush spreading down your neck.
The tension in the room thickened, wrapping around both of you. you were hyper-aware of everything: the way his bare arm looked under the golden light, the faint scent of his skin mixed with the laundry detergent on the t-shirt he was wearing, how close his mouth was if you just leaned forward a few inches.
You swallowed hard, your voice barely above a whisper. "and if i did ask… would you give it to me?"
Jay didn't answer with words right away.
Instead, he reached out slowly, his fingers gently brushing your hair away from your face before tucking it carefully behind your ear.
The touch was light, but it sent electricity racing across your skin. His hand lingered there for a second, thumb grazing your cheekbone.
Then he nodded. once. slow and deliberate.
Your heart slammed against your ribs.
The simple gesture and that quiet confirmation made your stomach flip violently.
In your mind, the thoughts rushed in unfiltered — filthy, desperate images of his hands on your body, his voice in your ear, finally giving in to what you'd wanted for years. but you stayed still, letting the tension stretch.
Jay's eyes stayed locked on yours, calm but burning with something deeper. he didn't move closer or pull away. he just waited, giving you the space to decide what came next.
"You're really going to make me say it out loud, huh?" you murmured, a nervous little smile tugging at your lips.
He smirked again, that trademark Jay confidence returning. "i'm not assuming anything with you. i've known you too long. if this is what you want, you're going to have to be clear."
You let out a shaky breath, shifting slightly on the bed.
Your thigh pressed more firmly against his. neither of you moved away.
"I've wanted this for so long" you admitted quietly, the alcohol and years of repression loosening your tongue.
"Not just tonight. since we were in high school. every time you taught me guitar… every time we'd end up here talking until 3 a.m.… it's been driving me crazy."
Jay listened without interrupting, his expression unreadable but his body language open.
He moved one hand on the bed near your leg, close enough that you could feel the heat radiating from him.
"You hid it well" he said eventually, voice rougher than before. "most of the time."
"Guess i'm not hiding it anymore."
He chuckled softly. "No. you're really not."
Another stretch of heavy silence. your eyes dropped to his mouth for a second before flicking back up. Jay noticed, of course.
He always noticed.
"You're nervous" he observed, not teasing this time. just stating it. "your pulse is going crazy right here." his fingers lightly touched the side of your neck, feeling your heartbeat.
You didn't deny it. instead, you leaned into his touch just slightly.
"I'm nervous because it's you" you whispered. "because if we do this… it changes everything."
Jay's thumb brushed slowly along your jaw. "it doesn't have to. not unless we want it to."
His words were careful, responsible — so typically Jay.
Even now, when the air between you crackled with years of built-up desire, he was still thinking about protecting what you had. it only made you want him more.
You stayed like that for a while longer, talking in low voices.
Every small movement — your fingers brushing his arm — felt loaded.
The tension was thick enough to taste. your body ached with it, a deep, warm need that had been growing for years, sharpened by every guitar lesson, every late-night conversation, every moment you'd spent pretending.
But still, you didn't cross the line. not yet.
The silence between you stretched, thick and electric. your heart hammered so hard you were sure he could hear it.
The soft lighting in Jay's room wrapped around both of you like a secret, making every small movement feel heavier than it should.
You shifted closer on the bed, moving until you were on your knees beside him.
Jay was leaning back against the pillows in a way that left space — deliberate space. if you wanted to climb on him, kiss him, do anything… he wouldn't pull away. his dark eyes followed you calmly, patient as always.
"You don't have to feel any pressure" he said quietly, voice low and steady. "even Heeseung and Jake noticed. they've been telling me for weeks how obviously into me you are. i couldn't exactly deny feeling it too… but i didn't want to make things weird between us."
His honesty hit you hard. you leaned in slowly and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, lingering there for a second. his skin was warm under your lips.
"I don't want things to get uncomfortable either" you whispered against his cheek. "if we do this… if something happens… i promise i can pretend it never did. until we figure out how we really feel. no pressure on you either.”
Jay nodded once, then shifted back until he was leaning against the headboard of his bed.
The blankets were rumpled around you both.
You hesitated only a moment longer before swinging one leg over his lap and settling yourself straddling him.
The oversized t-shirt you wore rode up your thighs slightly as you sat down. Jay's hands came up naturally to rest on your waist — steady, supportive, but respectful.
His fingers didn't wander lower. he simply held you there, giving you balance without pushing for more.
For a few seconds, neither of you spoke. you were both breathing a little heavier. your hands rested on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heart under the thin fabric of his shirt.
You traced small, nervous circles with your fingertips, exploring the firm muscle you'd stared at so many times during those guitar lessons.
Jay watched you closely, that cool, observant expression still on his face even now.
"You've been thinking about this for a long time, haven't you?" he murmured.
You nodded, biting your lip. your hands slid slowly up his chest to his shoulders, then back down again, feeling the warmth of him through the shirt. "yeah… especially during those lessons. every time you sat behind me… every time your hands were on mine…"
You leaned forward and kissed his other cheek, then the corner of his jaw. your fingers kept moving, sliding over his collarbones, down his arms, learning the shape of him like you'd wanted to for years.
Jay's grip on your waist tightened just slightly — not enough to control, just enough to show he was affected.
"You have no idea how hard it's been keeping my hands where they belong during those lessons" he said, voice dropping lower, a little rougher around the edges.
"Sitting that close to you, feeling you react every time i touch your fingers… knowing you're getting wet just from that. it's been driving me fucking crazy too."
Your breath hitched at his words. the slight dirty edge to them — so rare from him — sent heat rushing through your whole body. you pressed your palms flat against his chest again, feeling how his breathing had changed.
"I want you to teach me what good sex feels like, Jay" you finally whispered, the words spilling out shy but honest.
Your face burned as you said it, but you didn't look away.
Jay's eyes darkened, but he still held himself back. his thumbs brushed slow, soothing circles on your waist over the t-shirt.
"You're sure?" he asked, even now checking. "we can stop anytime. this doesn't change anything if you don't want it to."
"I'm sure" you breathed.
You leaned in and finally kissed him properly.
The first kiss was soft — tentative, testing.
His lips were warm and surprisingly gentle against yours. then you tilted your head a little more, deepening it, and Jay responded with a low hum that vibrated through his chest.
One of his hands stayed firmly on your waist while the other came up to cup the back of your neck, not pulling, just supporting.
You kissed him again, slower this time, savoring it. your hands grew bolder, sliding under the hem of his shirt to touch bare skin.
You traced the lines of his abs, feeling the way his stomach tensed under your fingertips. Jay let out a quiet breath against your mouth when your nails grazed lightly over his skin.
"Fuck..." he muttered between kisses, voice husky. "you've been holding back a lot, haven't you? all those times you sat in this room acting innocent while your mind was somewhere filthy…"
You smiled shyly against his lips, still that mix of timid and needy. "Maybe."
Your hands kept exploring — running up his back, feeling the muscle there, then back to his chest.
You could feel how hard his heart was beating. you shifted slightly in his lap, not grinding, just adjusting closer, and Jay's fingers flexed on your waist.
He kissed you again, a little deeper this time, his tongue brushing yours carefully. when you pulled back for air, he rested his forehead against yours.
"You're shaking" he observed quietly, always noticing everything. "still nervous?"
"A little" you admitted, your fingers still tracing patterns on his chest under his shirt. "but i want this. i've wanted it for so long."
Jay's hand slid up your back in a slow, comforting stroke. "then we take it slow. i'm not rushing anything with you."
His voice dropped again, that slight dirty tone returning. "even if i've thought about bending you over that guitar stool more times than i should admit."
Your face flushed hot. you kissed him again to hide your embarrassment, hands cupping his face now.
The kiss grew heavier, more urgent, but Jay kept control — never letting his hands move lower than your waist, never pushing your hips down against him.
You broke the kiss and pressed your face into his neck, breathing him in as your fingers continued their slow exploration of his torso.
You could feel him getting hard beneath you, but he made no move to do anything about it.
"Tell me what you've thought about" you whispered against his skin, shy but curious.
Jay let out a low chuckle, the sound vibrating against your cheek. "you really want to hear that right now?"
You nodded, kissing his neck softly.
He exhaled slowly. "a lot of nights after you left these lessons… i thought about how pretty you look when you're concentrated. how your breathing changes when i get close. thought about what sounds you'd make if i finally touched you properly instead of pretending it was just about guitar chords."
Your thighs squeezed instinctively around his hips. Jay noticed but didn't comment on it, just kept talking in that low, controlled voice.
"I've wondered how you'd taste" he added, almost casually. "how you'd look sitting on my lap like this, trying so hard to stay quiet because your brothers might hear if we were at your house."
You let out a shaky breath, your hands tightening on his shoulders.
The tension was almost unbearable now — heavy, aching, delicious. you kissed him again, deeper, your body pressing closer against his chest while your hands roamed freely under his shirt.
Jay kissed you back with the same measured intensity, one hand still steady on your waist, the other gently threading through your hair. he was hard beneath you, you could feel it clearly, but he remained the same Jay — cool-headed, teasing even now.
"You're going to kill me if you keep touching me like that" he murmured against your lips, a hint of a smirk in his voice. "those hands have been driving me insane for months."
You smiled, a little breathless, and kissed the corner of his mouth. "good. because you've been doing the same to me every single lesson."
The two of you stayed like that for a long time — kissing slowly, touching carefully, talking in low voices between heated moments.
The world outside felt far away. years of friendship and hidden desire were finally cracking open, but still slowly, still safely.
Jay pulled back after one particularly long kiss, brushing his thumb over your bottom lip.
"Still okay?" he asked, eyes searching yours.
You nodded, leaning in to kiss him again.
Neither of you were ready to stop yet. the night was young, the tension was perfect, and for the first time, you weren't pretending anymore.
You kept kissing him, deeper now, with a hunger that surprised even you. despite the innocent, pure look on your face — wide eyes, flushed cheeks — any shyness had melted away under the heat of the alcohol and years of built-up need.
Your hands moved with purpose, sliding down Jay's chest, over his stomach, until you boldly palmed the obvious bulge straining against his gray pajama shorts.
Jay let out a sharp breath against your mouth, then another low sigh as your fingers rubbed him slowly through the fabric. je was hard, thick, and warm under your touch. you didn't hesitate, stroking him with more confidence, feeling him twitch under your palm.
"Fuck…" he muttered between kisses, his voice rougher.
He finally broke the kiss, pulling back just enough to look down between your bodies.
There you were — straddling him, hand shamelessly rubbing his erection right beneath where you sat. his dark eyes darkened further.
"You're not playing around tonight, huh?" he said, voice low and slightly amused, but clearly affected.
You leaned in closer, lips brushing his ear, your voice needy and breathless. "i need you so bad right now, Jay… please. i want you to fuck me."
Jay let out a short, surprised laugh, the sound husky. "then take all your clothes off" he said, half-joking, half-challenging, that signature teasing tone still there even now.
But you were too far gone.
Without hesitation, you sat back on his thighs and pulled the oversized t-shirt over your head, revealing your bare chest. then you lifted your hips and slid the pajama shorts down your legs, kicking them aside until you were left in just your panties.
Your skin felt hot under his gaze.
Jay cursed under his breath — a low, impressed "shit…" — as his eyes raked over your body. his hands stayed respectful on your waist for a moment longer before he helped steady you.
"Come here" he murmured, pulling you back onto his lap properly.
The kissing resumed, hotter this time.
Your hand returned to stroking him through his shorts while his mouth moved from your lips to your jaw, then down your neck.
He sucked lightly on your skin, not enough to leave marks yet, but enough to make you whimper softly.
You ground against his bulge slowly, feeling the friction through the thin layers separating you. Jay's breathing grew heavier, his hands finally sliding up your sides, thumbs brushing the underside of your breasts.
"You've been hiding this body from me during all those lessons?" he said against your neck, voice low and a little dirty. "sitting there acting all innocent while i was trying not to think about how you'd look like this… straddling me, touching my cock like you own it."
You moaned softly at his words, your hand squeezing him firmer. "i thought about it every time."
Jay kissed you hard again, then shifted both of you. he moved you off his lap gently and stood up, quickly pulling his own shirt off and dropping his shorts.
His cock sprang free — hard, flushed, and bigger than you'd imagined in your filthiest thoughts. he was smooth, well-kept, the head already glistening.
He sat back down against the headboard and pulled you back on top, but this time he guided you into a different position.
He turned you so you were facing away from him, your back to his chest, straddling his lap in reverse.
"Like this" he said quietly, voice steady but thick with want. "i want to feel you."
His hands settled on your hips, guiding you as you lowered yourself.
He didn't enter you yet — instead, he pulled your panties to the side and slid his cock between your folds, letting you grind along his length. the heat of him against your wet pussy made you gasp.
You leaned back against his chest, one of his arms wrapping around your waist to hold you steady while his other hand reached down to rub slow circles on your clit.
His mouth was right by your ear, breathing warm against it.
"Slow" he reminded you, always in some control. "we've got all night."
You rocked your hips, sliding along his cock, coating him with how wet you were.
Jay groaned softly, the sound vibrating against your back. he kept rubbing your clit with practiced fingers, occasionally squeezing your breast with his free hand, rolling your nipple gently.
"Feel how hard you made me?" he murmured, lips brushing your ear. "all those guitar lessons… you sitting between my legs, biting your lip every time i touched you. i wanted to pull you back against me just like this."
You moaned, moving faster against him. Jay adjusted his grip, lifting you slightly before finally guiding the head of his cock to your entrance.
"Ready?" he asked, checking one last time.
"Yes" you breathed.
He lowered you slowly onto him, inch by inch.
The stretch was perfect — full, deep, overwhelming in the best way.
When he bottomed out, both of you let out shaky breaths. he stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust, his arm tight around your waist, the other hand still between your legs rubbing your clit.
Then he started moving.
He thrust up into you in a steady rhythm, deep and controlled.
You braced your hands on his thighs, leaning forward slightly as you rode him in reverse, matching his pace.
The position let him hit deep with every roll of his hips, his cock dragging against that perfect spot inside you.
Jay's breathing was ragged now, but his voice stayed low near your ear. "that's it… just like that. you feel so fucking good."
His hand on your clit never stopped, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.
The other hand gripped your hip, guiding you down onto him harder.
The sound of skin meeting skin filled the warm room, mixed with your soft moans and his occasional low groans.
You leaned further forward, hands on his knees for leverage, bouncing on his cock while he thrust up to meet you. Jay cursed again, the view from behind clearly affecting him.
"Look at you" he said, voice strained but still teasing. "taking me so well after wanting it for years…"
The pleasure built fast — the angle, his fingers on your clit, the deep thrusts.
Your thighs started trembling. Jay noticed, as always, and wrapped his arm tighter around you, holding you close as he fucked you through it.
Your back arching against his chest, a broken moan leaving your lips. Jay kept moving, slower now, drawing it out, murmuring quiet praise against your neck.
He didn't stop completely. after you caught your breath, he guided you to lean all the way forward, chest almost to the bed, still connected.
He sat up straighter behind you, hands on your hips as he thrust deeper, faster, chasing his own release.
The position was intense — you face down, ass up, Jay behind you thrusting with controlled power. his hands roamed your back, occasionally gripping your hair lightly to pull you back against him.
"Fuck, you're squeezing me so tight" he groaned.
You pushed back against him, meeting every thrust. Jay's pace grew more urgent, but he never lost that cool edge — always making sure you were okay, his hands soothing even as he fucked you harder.
You kept moving on him, rolling your hips in a slow, needy rhythm as you rode Jay in reverse.
Your back was pressed against his chest, his cock buried deep inside you with every downward motion.
The stretch felt incredible, and the position let you feel every inch of him. your hands gripped his thighs for balance while his arm stayed wrapped around your waist, the other hand still teasing your clit with slow, deliberate circles.
But Jay had other plans.
His hands slid to your hips, gripping firmly but not harshly.
With a low murmur against your ear — "let me take over for a bit" — he guided you forward. you leaned down, hands bracing on the bed as he smoothly shifted your body off his lap and onto all fours. the transition was fluid, his cock slipping out for just a second before he positioned himself behind you.
Your hips stayed high, ass up, while your chest and face pressed down into the mattress.
The soft sheets muffled your heavy breathing as Jay knelt behind you.
He reached forward, gathering both of your arms gently but decisively, pulling them behind your lower back. he held your wrists together with one hand, limiting your movement without being overly restrictive.
His grip was secure, controlling, but still careful — classic Jay.
"Fuck… Jay…" you moaned loudly, the sound shameless and needy.
Your voice echoed in the warm room, much louder than you'd ever been with anyone else. "it feels so deep like this…"
He rubbed the head of his cock along your soaked folds for a moment, teasing, before pushing back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust.
You cried out, face buried in the mattress as your ass stayed arched high for him.
Jay started moving — deep and fast, but not brutal.
Each thrust was powerful and controlled, hitting that perfect spot inside you with precision. the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room, steady and rhythmic.
"Shit, listen to you" he said, voice low and slightly amused even now.
"You're so loud tonight. all those years pretending to be shy during our lessons… and now you're moaning like this with your face in my bed."
You whimpered loudly in response, unable to hold back. "i can't help it… you're so deep— ahh!" another loud moan tore from your throat as he thrust particularly deep, holding it there for a second before resuming his pace.
Jay kept your wrists pinned at your lower back with one hand while his other hand reached up and gathered your hair.
He didn't yank it — he simply held it firmly, using it as leverage to keep your head down against the mattress while he fucked you. the gentle tug on your scalp sent sparks through your body.
"That's it" he murmured, breathing heavier but still composed. "keep that ass up for me. you feel incredible like this… so wet. been thinking about this view for months every time you left my room."
Your moans grew louder, unrestrained. every deep thrust pushed a new sound out of you — high-pitched whimpers mixed with desperate gasps and full moans.
Your hips pushed back against him instinctively, meeting his rhythm as much as his grip on your wrists allowed.
"Jay— oh god, right there— fuck" you cried out, voice breaking. Your face stayed pressed into the sheets, cheek turned to the side, eyes half-closed in pleasure.
He leaned forward slightly, chest closer to your back, changing the angle just enough to make you see stars.
His thrusts never faltered — consistent, deep, fast enough to make your thighs shake but never rough enough to cross into discomfort.
"You're squeezing me so tight" he groaned near your ear, voice rough but still that familiar Jay tone — teasing underneath the lust. "all that tension from the guitar lessons finally coming out, huh?… you were this wet thinking about me fucking you like this?"
"Yes— fuck" you moaned loudly, almost sobbing into the mattress.
Your body rocked forward with each thrust, but Jay's hold on your wrists and hair kept you exactly where he wanted you. "i need more… please don't stop—"
He didn't.
He kept the pace steady, fucking you thoroughly.
Minutes passed like this — long, drawn-out, filthy minutes filled with the wet sounds of your bodies connecting and your increasingly loud moans. Jay would occasionally slow down to grind deep inside you, letting you feel every inch, before picking up speed again.
After a while, he released your wrists but only to adjust your position further.
He gently pushed your upper body fully down onto the bed, guiding you into a prone-bone angle — your hips still tilted up, legs slightly spread, chest and face pressed flat against the mattress.
He moved with you, covering your back with his chest as he slid back inside.
This new position felt even deeper. Jay's weight pressed you into the bed as he thrust down into you, one hand still tangled in your hair, the other braced beside your head for support.
"Still good?" he asked between thrusts, voice low and caring even as he fucked you harder. "tell me if it's too much."
"It's— ah... it's perfect— Jay, fuck" your voice was loud and broken, moans spilling out continuously now.
The mattress muffled some of them, but not enough. you were loud, needy, completely lost in the sensation.
Jay let out a low chuckle that turned into a groan as you clenched around him. "you're going to wake up the whole house if you keep moaning like that. not that i mind… i like hearing how much you need this."
He kept the rhythm deep and fast, hips snapping against your ass with controlled power.
The angle made his cock drag perfectly against your g-spot with every stroke. his hand in your hair kept you grounded, his lips occasionally brushing your shoulder or the back of your neck as he fucked you.
"You're doing so well" he murmured, voice husky against your ear. "my best friend moaning my name while i fuck her exactly how she needs."
"Jay— please…" you whined loudly, pushing your hips back as much as the position allowed. your hands gripped the sheets tightly, body trembling from the sustained pleasure.
He kept going, deep, fast, relentless but never rough.
Always observant — adjusting when your moans pitched higher, slowing for a few strokes when your thighs shook too much, then building the pace again.
Jay kept his steady, deep rhythm, fucking you thoroughly from behind while you stayed pressed into the mattress. your loud moans continued filling the room without filter — raw, needy, and unrestrained.
But he wasn't done changing things up.
He slowed his thrusts gradually, then pulled out carefully.
Before you could protest the sudden emptiness, he flipped you onto your back with strong but gentle hands.
You barely had time to catch your breath before he was between your legs again, spreading them wide and settling on top of you.
This time, though, he hooked both of your legs over his shoulders, folding you nearly in half.
Your hips lifted off the bed as he leaned forward, bringing his face close to yours. the new angle made everything feel impossibly deeper.
"Jay— fuck—" you moaned loudly as he pushed back inside you in one smooth motion.
Your voice cracked with pleasure, eyes fluttering. "it's so deep like this… i can feel everything—"
He braced his hands on either side of your head, his dark eyes locked on your face as he started moving again. deep, fast strokes that made your breasts bounce with every thrust.
Your legs trembled over his shoulders, ankles near his ears.
Jay's expression stayed focused — that cool, controlled look mixed with clear desire.
He wasn't being rough, but the way he drove into you was relentless, hitting that perfect spot over and over.
"Look at me" he said, voice low and a little strained. "want to see your face while i fuck you."
You tried, but another loud moan tore from your throat as he ground deep inside you, rolling his hips in a way that made your toes curl. "ah— Jay, right there— don't stop—"
Your hands flew up to grip his arms, nails digging into his biceps as he held you folded beneath him.
The position left you completely exposed, hips tilted up, taking every inch of his cock with each thrust.
You were so loud now — moaning, whimpering, gasping his name repeatedly.
The sounds bounced off the walls of his warm-lit room.
Jay leaned down further, almost bending you in half, and kissed you messily.
His tongue slid against yours as he kept thrusting, the wet slap of skin on skin growing louder. when he pulled back, his breathing was heavier.
"You're so fucking loud tonight" he murmured against your lips, a hint of that teasing smirk appearing even now.
"I can't— ah, it feels too good—" you cried out, head falling back against the pillows.
Your face was flushed, lips parted, eyes glassy with pleasure. every deep thrust pushed a new moan out of you. "Jay… Jay, please— it's so much—”
He kept the pace fast and deep, hips snapping forward with controlled power.
The angle made his cock drag perfectly against your g-spot on every stroke. one of his hands moved down to rub your clit again, adding another layer of overwhelming sensation.
You were a mess beneath him — legs over his shoulders, body folded, moaning shamelessly loud with every movement.
Your hands roamed his back, scratching lightly down his skin as pleasure built higher and higher.
"Fuck, you feel perfect" Jay groaned, voice rough but still composed.
He kissed your neck, sucking lightly as he continued thrusting. "been wanting to have you like this for so long. all spread out, taking me so well… moaning my name like you can't get enough."
"I can't— i really can't—" you sobbed-moaned, voice breaking. your hips tried to move to meet his thrusts, but the position left you mostly at his mercy. "it's so deep, Jay… i'm so close already—"
He immediately slowed his pace just enough to keep you on the edge without pushing you over, drawing out the moment. His thrusts became long, deliberate strokes — pulling almost all the way out before sliding back in deep and grinding against you.
"Not yet" he said softly, almost teasing. "we're not done."
He changed the angle slightly, pressing your thighs further back as he leaned over you.
The new depth made you cry out even louder, your voice echoing in the room. Jay's hand stayed on your clit, rubbing slow circles while he fucked you with those deep, fast strokes.
Sweat glistened on both your bodies under the soft brown-gold lighting. Jay's hair fell messily over his forehead as he watched your face, always observant, always checking your reactions.
"Every time I hit this spot right here—" he thrust deep and ground against you to emphasize, making you moan loudly again. "—you get even wetter. you really did want this bad, didn't you?"
"Yes— god, yes— i've wanted you for years—" you gasped, voice loud and broken.
Your hands gripped his shoulders tighter as another wave of pleasure washed over you, keeping you right on the edge.
Jay kept going, deep and fast, but always controlled. he would lean down to kiss you messily every so often, swallowing some of your loud moans before pulling back to watch you again.
His hand never left your clit, building the tension higher without letting it break.
After a while, he lowered your legs from his shoulders but kept them spread wide. he stayed on top, chest pressed to yours in a more classic missionary, but still deep and intense.
His hips rolled against yours in a steady rhythm, grinding deep with every thrust.
"Still okay?" he asked between strokes, always the caring one even now.
"So okay— fuck, Jay, it feels amazing—" you moaned loudly, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him deeper.
The room filled with the sounds of your loud, needy moans, his low groans, and the wet rhythm of your bodies moving together.
Jay kept the pace deep and fast, drawing it out, making the pleasure last as long as possible.
He kissed your neck, your jaw, your lips — mixing tenderness with the raw intensity of how he was fucking you.
His hand occasionally slid up to hold one of your wrists above your head, not pinning hard, just keeping you in place while he drove into you.
"You sound so pretty when you're this loud" he whispered against your ear, voice rough. "moaning for your best friend like this… after all this time."
Your response was another loud, broken moan as he hit that perfect angle again.
The tension kept building, higher and higher, but Jay expertly kept you both teetering right on the edge — not letting either of you fall over just yet.
You were right on the edge.
Your body was shaking underneath Jay, legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked you deep and steady. your moans had become desperate, broken cries that filled the entire room.
"Jay— i'm so close— please, i'm gonna cum—" you gasped loudly, your voice cracking with need. your nails dug into his back as the pressure built unbearably tight inside you.
But Jay suddenly slowed down, then stopped moving completely, buried to the hilt inside you. he held perfectly still, breathing heavily against your neck.
"Not yet" he murmured, voice low and composed, that teasing control still fully intact. "you're not cumming yet."
You let out a loud, frustrated whine, trying to roll your hips up desperately, but he pinned you down with his weight, refusing to give you the last bit of friction you needed.
"Jay… please…" you begged, voice needy and loud. "i was so close—"
He kissed the corner of your mouth softly, then slowly pulled out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness.
Your pussy throbbed painfully, slick and desperate.
Jay moved down your body with deliberate calmness. he spread your legs wide, settling between them on his stomach.
His dark eyes looked up at your flushed, innocent-looking face as he wrapped his strong arms around your thighs, holding you open for him.
"Since you're being so loud and impatient" he said, voice husky but still teasing, "i'm going to taste you instead. but you still don't get to cum until i say so."
Before you could respond, Jay leaned in and dragged his tongue slowly up your soaked folds.
You moaned loudly, back arching off the bed at the sudden intense pleasure.
"Fuck— Jay—"
He took his time, exploring you with his mouth like he had all night. his tongue moved in slow, broad strokes from your entrance up to your clit, savoring how wet you were.
Then he circled your swollen clit with the tip of his tongue, applying just enough pressure to keep you right on the edge without pushing you over.
You were loud — extremely loud. your moans echoed shamelessly in his warm-lit room as he ate you out.
"Oh my god— Jay… that feels so good—" you cried out, one hand flying down to grip his hair. your hips tried to buck against his face, but his strong arms kept your thighs firmly pinned down, controlling your movements.
Jay hummed against your pussy, the vibration making you whimper even louder.
He alternated between long, slow licks and focused sucking on your clit, occasionally dipping his tongue inside you. his technique was precise and confident — typical Jay, even in this.
"You taste even better than i imagined" he murmured against your wet skin, voice slightly muffled. "all those guitar lessons… and i had no idea how sweet this pretty pussy was."
You moaned brokenly, head thrown back against the pillows. "Jay— please— i need to cum so bad— i can't take it—"
He ignored your begging and continued devouring you.
His tongue flicked rapidly over your clit for a few seconds, then slowed down again, edging you mercilessly.
Every time your thighs started trembling harder and your moans pitched higher, he would pull back slightly, kissing your inner thighs or blowing cool air on your sensitive folds until the orgasm threat faded just enough.
You were a complete mess — loud, desperate, and dripping.
"Ah! Jay— your tongue feels too good—" you sobbed, voice hoarse from how much you'd been moaning. your free hand gripped the sheets tightly beside you, knuckles turning white.
Jay slid two fingers inside you slowly while his mouth focused on your clit, curling them upward to press against that sensitive spot. the combination made you cry out even louder, almost screaming his name.
"Jay— fuck— i'm so close again— please let me cum this time—"
But he pulled his fingers out and slowed his tongue once more, denying you for the third time.
You let out a loud, frustrated whimper, tears of overwhelming pleasure pricking at the corners of your eyes.
"Not yet" he repeated calmly, kissing your clit softly. "i want you shaking for me first."
He buried his face deeper between your legs, sucking your clit into his mouth while his tongue flicked rapidly.
The wet, obscene sounds of him eating you out mixed with your loud, broken moans. he kept you spread wide, completely exposed, as he worked you over with expert patience.
Minutes passed like this — long, torturous minutes of Jay's mouth on your pussy.
He would bring you right to the brink with fast, focused licks and suction, then slow down to lazy, broad strokes that kept the pleasure simmering without exploding.
Your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat, thighs trembling uncontrollably around his head.
"You're dripping all over my chin" he murmured, voice low and slightly dirty. "such a messy girl tonight. and still trying so hard to be quiet when we both know you can't."
"I'm not— i can't be quiet— Jay, please—" you moaned, almost incoherently now.
He slid his fingers back inside you, fucking you slowly with them while his tongue circled your clit.
The dual sensation had you seeing stars, right on the edge once again.
Your voice was getting hoarser, your moans desperate, needy sobs as he continued edging you with his mouth for what felt like forever.
Jay between your spread legs, focused and in control, while you writhed and moaned loudly beneath his skilled tongue.
He was clearly enjoying himself, occasionally humming in satisfaction against your pussy or glancing up to watch your innocent face contort with overwhelming pleasure.
"You're doing so well holding it for me" he praised softly between licks. "just a little longer…"
Your body was on fire, every nerve ending screaming for release, but Jay kept you right there — teetering, desperate, and completely at his mercy.
Now you were shaking uncontrollably, your thighs trembling around Jay's head as he continued working you with his tongue.
Jay sucked your swollen clit into his mouth, flicking his tongue rapidly while his two fingers curled deep inside you, pressing firmly against that sensitive spot.
His dark eyes flicked up to watch your face as he pushed you over.
"Jay— fuck— i'm cumming—!" you cried out loudly, voice breaking into a high-pitched moan that echoed through the room.
The orgasm crashed over you hard.
Your back arched violently off the bed, hips jerking against his face as waves of intense pleasure ripped through your body.
You moaned shamelessly loud, almost screaming his name as your pussy clenched around his fingers and flooded his tongue.
But Jay didn't stop.
He kept his mouth on you through the entire orgasm, licking and sucking gently but consistently, drawing it out and immediately pushing you toward another peak.
"Jay— oh my god, it's too much... i just came— ah" you wailed, one hand gripping his hair tightly while the other twisted in the sheets. your legs shook uncontrollably around his shoulders.
He hummed against your pussy, the vibration sending aftershocks through you.
"I know" he murmured, voice low and slightly smug against your wet folds. "but you sound too pretty when you're falling apart. i'm not done with you yet."
He continued eating you out with focused determination — slow, broad licks mixed with quick flicks on your oversensitive clit.
His fingers kept moving inside you, curling and thrusting steadily. the wet, obscene sounds of his mouth on your dripping pussy filled the room alongside your loud, hoarse moans.
After several long minutes of this delicious torture, Jay finally pulled his mouth away, his lips and chin glistening with your arousal.
He looked up at your flushed, wrecked face with that signature cool smirk.
"On your stomach again." he said quietly, voice rough with want.
You barely had the strength to move, but he helped you, flipping you onto your belly with strong, careful hands.
He pulled your hips up so you were in doggy again — ass high, chest and face pressed down into the mattress, exactly how he liked you.
Jay knelt behind you and rubbed his hard cock along your soaked folds before pushing back inside you in one smooth, deep thrust. you moaned into the sheets as he filled you again.
"Jay— nggh—"
He started fucking you again with those perfect deep and fast strokes, his hips snapping against your ass.
One hand gripped your hip firmly while the other slid up your back. Then you felt it — his thumb circling your tight rim teasingly before slowly pressing inside.
The dual sensation — his thick cock stretching your pussy while his thumb gently worked inside your ass — was overwhelming.
"Shit... Jay" your body trembled as he pushed his thumb deeper, moving it in slow, careful thrusts in time with his cock.
"Relax for me" he murmured, voice low and steady even as he fucked you harder. "just a little. i've got you."
He kept the pace deep and rhythmic, cock driving into your pussy while his thumb gently fucked your ass.
The feeling was intense but not painful — just enough stretch and fullness to make your loud moans turn even more desperate.
You were a wreck — face down, ass up, moaning shamelessly loud with every thrust. Jay's free hand reached around to rub your clit again, pushing you toward another orgasm while he continued the double stimulation.
"Listen to how loud you are" he said, voice husky with arousal but still teasing. "you love this, don't you?"
"Yes... ngf... fuck yes, i love it—" you cried out, pushing back against him desperately. "don't stop... please."
Jay kept going, deep and controlled.
His cock dragged perfectly against your g-spot with every thrust while his thumb moved gently inside you, stretching you just enough to heighten everything.
The room was filled with the wet sounds of sex, skin slapping skin, and your continuous loud moans.
He leaned forward, chest pressing against your back as he fucked you, his mouth close to your ear.
"You're squeezing me so fucking tight" he groaned softly. "both holes. such a greedy girl tonight."
You could only moan in response, completely lost in the pleasure.
Jay's rhythm never faltered — deep, fast strokes in your pussy, steady movements of his thumb in your ass, and his fingers still working your clit.
He kept you right on the edge of another orgasm, drawing it out just like before.
After several long, intense minutes, he pulled his thumb out carefully and focused entirely on fucking you deep from behind, both hands gripping your hips as he drove into you with powerful, controlled thrusts.
Jay leaned down again, kissing the back of your neck as he continued fucking you thoroughly.
"You're doing so well" he said quietly, voice warm despite how hard he was driving into you. "taking me so deep… being so loud for me. my perfect girl."
He kept the pace going, switching between deep grinding and faster thrusts, always keeping you full and stimulated.
He gripped your hips tighter and drove into you harder, his cock sliding in and out of your soaked, sensitive pussy with wet, obscene sounds.
"Jay, fuck... it's too much—" you cried out, voice breaking as he hit that perfect spot over and over.
He leaned forward, chest pressing against your back, and wrapped one arm around your waist to hold you in place. his other hand slid up to grip your shoulder, pulling you back onto his cock with every thrust.
"You can take it" he murmured against your ear, voice rough and low. "you've been waiting years for this. take it like a good girl for me."
Then he shifted again, pushing your upper body fully down while keeping your hips raised.
The weight of him on top of you again, the way his cock drove so deep at this angle, had you moaning loudly into the sheets, almost sobbing with overstimulation and pleasure.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity of him fucking you thoroughly, Jay's breathing became more ragged. his thrusts grew faster, more desperate.
This was exactly how he needed it.
He fucked you harder, hips snapping against your ass with urgent, almost frantic strokes.
His cock drove deep inside you with every thrust, the angle letting him hit as deep as possible. his breathing was heavy and labored against the back of your neck.
"Fuck— i'm close—" he groaned, voice strained for the first time that night. "you feel too good… i can't hold it anymore."
You moaned loudly in response, pushing your ass back against him as much as you could. "cum inside me, i want to feel you—"
That seemed to break the last bit of his control.
Jay's thrusts became erratic and desperate. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, one arm wrapped tightly around your waist, the other gripping the sheets beside your head.
His hips slammed against you faster, chasing his release with raw need.
"Shit— fuck" he growled, voice breaking as the pleasure overtook him.
With a deep, guttural groan that vibrated against your skin, Jay buried himself as deep as possible inside you and came hard.
His cock pulsed strongly, releasing thick, warm spurts of cum deep into your pussy.
His hips stuttered and jerked against your ass as he rode out the intense orgasm, grinding deep to push every drop inside you.
He kept thrusting weakly through his climax, desperate and almost whimpering against your neck as the pleasure overwhelmed him.
His body trembled on top of yours, muscles tense, breathing ragged and hot against your skin.
He stayed pressed against you, hips twitching, making sure you took every single drop.
The desperation in his movements — the way he held you so tightly, the broken groans, the way he couldn't stop moving even after he started cumming — was raw and intense. years of tension finally snapping in that exact moment.
He stayed inside you for a long time afterward, breathing heavily, body still covering yours completely as the last aftershocks ran through him.
His cock continued to twitch inside your cum-filled pussy, making you whimper softly at the overstimulation.
The room was quiet now except for both of your heavy breathing. Jay's warm, sweaty body remained pressed against your back, his face hidden in your neck as he tried to catch his breath.
No words yet.
Just the heavy, satisfied silence and the feeling of him still deep inside you, having cum exactly where he needed to — deep, desperate, and completely lost in the moment.
The room felt quieter than it had all night.
You stayed there — face down, body spent and trembling — trying to process the overwhelming wave of emotions crashing over you.
The pleasure was still echoing through your limbs, but something deeper was settling in. something terrifying and warm at the same time.
Jay finally let out a long, shaky breath.
He pressed a slow, almost hesitant kiss to the back of your shoulder before carefully pulling out of you.
The loss of him made you whimper softly. you felt empty.
Exposed. raw.
He rolled off you and lay on his side, facing you.
For a few seconds, he just looked at you — dark eyes searching your face with that familiar intensity. his hair was messy, lips slightly swollen, skin glistening with sweat under the soft brown-gold lighting.
He looked beautiful. and suddenly, painfully real.
You turned your head to face him, cheek still pressed against the bed.
Your heart was doing something complicated in your chest.
"Jay…" you whispered, voice hoarse from how loudly you'd been moaning.
He reached out and gently brushed damp strands of hair away from your face. his touch was careful now, almost reverent.
"Yeah?" he answered quietly. his voice was lower than usual, a little rough.
You didn't know what to say. there were too many things at once.
I just slept with my best friend.
I let him cum inside me.
I've been in love with you for years and now i'm scared.
Instead of speaking, you shifted closer and tucked yourself against his chest.
Jay didn't hesitate — he wrapped his arms around you immediately, pulling you in.
One hand rubbed slow circles on your bare back while the other rested at the nape of your neck.
The silence stretched again, but it wasn't uncomfortable.
It was heavy.
"I…" you started, then stopped.
Your fingers traced small patterns on his chest, feeling his heartbeat slowly begin to calm. "i don't know what to say right now."
Jay let out a soft breath that was almost a chuckle. "me neither."
He tilted his head down to look at you.
His expression was calm on the surface, but you knew him too well. there was something vulnerable behind his eyes.
"Are you okay?" he asked. the question was simple, but the way he asked it — gentle, serious — made your chest tighten.
You nodded against him. "yeah. just… a lot."
He was quiet for a moment, then spoke again, voice low. "i know. for me too."
You pulled back slightly so you could see his face better. "did you… want this? like, really want it? or did i just—"
Jay cut you off by pressing his forehead against yours.
"I wanted it" he said firmly. "i've wanted it for longer than i probably should admit. but i never let myself think about it too much because… you're you. my best friend. the one person i didn't want to risk losing."
Your eyes stung a little.
You swallowed hard.
"I've been in love with you since second year" you confessed in a whisper. the words felt scary to say out loud, but after everything that had just happened, they also felt necessary.
"Not just… wanting you. loving you. for years. and tonight i just… i couldn't pretend anymore."
Jay's hand stilled on your back for a second. then he pulled you closer, tucking your head under his chin.
"I figured" he murmured. "i'm not blind. the way you looked at me during those guitar lessons… how you'd get quiet sometimes. i noticed. i just didn't know if acting on it would fuck everything up."
You let out a shaky laugh. "and now?"
He was quiet for a long time. his fingers resumed their slow movement on your back.
"Now i don't know" he admitted honestly. "but i don't regret it. not even a little." he paused. "do you?"
You shook your head quickly. "no. God, no. it felt… right. even if it was intense. even if i was so loud i probably woke up your neighbors."
Jay chuckled softly, the sound rumbling in his chest.
The familiar teasing tone returned just a bit. "you were really loud. i didn't know you had that in you."
You hid your face in his neck, embarrassed but smiling. "shut up. you were the one edging me for like an hour."
He laughed again, but it faded into something softer. his arms tightened around you.
"I just… i needed to know you really wanted it" he said quietly. "all of it. not just because you were drunk or horny. i needed to hear you fall apart for me."
You stayed silent, absorbing his words.
The vulnerability in his voice was rare. Jay was always the cool one, the one who had everything under control. hearing him admit that he'd been holding back too made something warm bloom in your chest.
"I've never felt like that with anyone else" you whispered. "not even close. it wasn't just sex, Jay. it was you."
He exhaled slowly, like he'd been holding that breath for a long time.
"Yeah" he said finally. "same here."
The two of you stayed tangled together like that for a while.
You traced a finger along his collarbone. "are you scared?" you asked softly.
Jay was quiet for a few seconds.
"A little" he admitted. "i don't want to lose what we have. the friendship. the late nights. the stupid arguments about music. you're important to me. really fucking important."
You nodded, throat tight. "me too. but… i also don't think i can go back to pretending i don't feel this way."
He tilted your chin up gently so you were looking at him. his dark eyes were serious, but there was warmth there too.
"Then we don't pretend" he said. "we figure it out. slowly. no pressure. you're still my best friend first. everything else… we'll see."
You felt tears prick at your eyes again, but this time they were different. not sad. just overwhelmed.
Jay noticed immediately. he wiped the corner of your eye with his thumb.
"Hey" he said softly, that teasing smirk returning just a fraction. "don't cry on me now. i just made you cum so hard you almost forgot your own name. this is supposed to be a victory lap."
You laughed wetly and shoved his chest lightly. "you're such an asshole."
"Your asshole" he corrected, smirking.
The joke helped. it reminded you that even after everything, he was still Jay.
Your Jay.
You snuggled closer again, legs tangling with his. His hand resumed rubbing your back, soothing and steady.
The emotional weight of the night settled over both of you — the relief, the fear, the hope, the deep affection that had always been there underneath the tension.
It wasn't simple. it wasn't clean. but it was real.
Jay held you tighter, like he was afraid you might disappear if he let go.
"Get some sleep" he murmured eventually, voice soft. "we'll talk more in the morning. when your brain isn't fried from all the orgasms i gave you."
You smiled against his skin. "cocky."
"Accurate" he replied.
Even in the emotional aftermath, the teasing remained. it felt safe. familiar.
As your eyes grew heavier, wrapped in his arms in the warm glow of his room, you realized something important:
Whatever happened next — whether this became something more or complicated everything — you didn't regret a single second.
And from the way Jay's fingers kept tracing gentle patterns on your skin long after you thought he'd fallen asleep, you suspected he didn't either.
isa: sorry if this doesn't make much sense i wrote this while still running a fever so it's kind of a mess :p my brain is basically soup right now but i promise it'll come together soon or at least i hope it will >< thanks for being patient with me i love you guys ^^
in which jay gives you lessons on how to get (and fuck) jake sim.
synopsis: when your crush on jake sim turns into full-blown panic about your complete lack of experience, your best friend suggests the one person on campus who can help: jay park — the dangerously attractive, notoriously skilled senior with a reputation for being an incredible teacher.
what starts as innocent lessons in flirting, kissing, and confidence quickly spirals into something much hotter… and much more complicated. because the more jay teaches you how to drive jake crazy, the more you realize you only want him touching you.
pairing: jay x fem!reader (x jake)
wc: 34.6k
warnings: smut! light fluff and angst
cw: college au, love triangle, mutual pining, slow burn. themes of virginity, virginity loss, sexual inexperience, anxiety about intimacy. mentions of alcohol. explicit sexual content (kissing, making out, dry humping, handjob, blowjob, p in v, unprotected sex.) heavy flirting and sexual tension, playful teasing, use of petnames, strong language.
a/n: even though today is my birthday, i wanted to be the one giving you a gift. so... yeah, here you go, the longest fic i've ever written. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did while writing! <3
the bass hums low through the crowded living room, a warm pulse that vibrates under your skin as you lean against the kitchen counter, half-hidden behind a cluster of red plastic cups.
the party is the usual saturday chaos — too many people crammed into this frat house off campus, bodies swaying and bumping into each other under the dim string lights someone messily hung on the ceiling. laughter spills over the music, loud, while the faint smell of cheap beer, cheap vodka, and even cheaper perfume hangs thick in the air, mixing with the occasional scent of cigarette smoke drifting in from the backyard. red cups litter every surface, and the floor already feels sticky under your sneakers from whatever got spilled earlier.
but your eyes stay fixed across the room, unable to look anywhere else, like some invisible string keeps pulling your gaze back no matter how much you tell yourself to stop.
jake sim stands near the sliding glass doors that lead to the backyard, where the night air probably feels cooler and less suffocating than in here.
one hand is casually tucked into the pocket of his dark jeans, the fabric hugging his legs just right, while the other gestures animatedly as he talks to a girl you vaguely recognize from your literature class — maybe her name is karina or something close. she’s laughing at something he said, head tilted back in that carefree way, exposing the line of her throat, her fingers brushing his arm every few seconds like she can’t help touching him. the way she leans into his space screams interest, flirtiness, and he doesn’t pull away. if anything, he seems to welcome it, that charm radiating off him.
and jake — good god, jake looks perfect. the kind of perfect that makes your chest ache with a sharp, longing twist.
he’s wearing a simple black button-up with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, exposing those toned forearms that flex subtly every time he moves his hand for emphasis. his hair falls softly over his forehead in that effortless, slightly tousled way, like he ran his fingers through it once and left it alone, knowing it would look devastating. the dim lighting catches on the sharp line of his jaw, the warm brown of his eyes, and when he smiles at her, it’s the same warm, dimpled smile he’s given you a dozen times in the hallway or during group project meetings. the kind of smile that feels like sunlight breaking through clouds, crinkling the corners of his eyes and making his whole face light up.
he leans in closer to hear her better over the music, nodding along with genuine interest, his full attention on her like she’s the only person in this entire crowded house.
that’s the thing about jake. when he focuses on someone, it feels like the rest of the world fades into background noise — no distractions, no half-measures. just him, fully present, making you feel seen in a way that’s dangerously addictive.
you swallow hard, fingers tightening around your barely-touched drink until the plastic creaks under your grip. the soda has gone warm and gass-less, but you don’t care. you haven’t taken more than a sip in the last twenty minutes anyway, too busy nursing this quiet ache while pretending to scroll on your phone every few seconds so no one notices you staring.
you’ve been crushing on him for four months now.
four long, torturous months of stolen glances across lecture halls, light flirting in the library where his knee would accidentally brush yours under the table, and random texts about class notes that somehow turned into conversations about favorite movies and late-night snacks and that one time he admitted he secretly loves cheesy romance dramas even though his friends would tease him endlessly for it.
and, the thing is, everybody knows jake doesn’t flirt casually. if he gives a girl that kind of attention — the lingering eye contact, the playful teasing texts at midnight, the way he remembers small details like how you take your coffee — it means he’s interested in something real. dating, commitment, the whole boyfriend package with hand-holding walks across campus and good morning messages that make your heart race.
he’s had two serious girlfriends in the past three years, one lasting several months where you’d see them together looking so effortlessly in sync, the other stretching a whole year where rumors said they were practically inseparable until things eventually ended on good terms. each one looking blissfully happy in his presence, glowing like they’d unlocked some secret level of connection and pleasure that you can only imagine.
and that’s exactly why your stomach twists into tight, anxious knots right now.
you’re a virgin. painfully, embarrassingly inexperienced.
you’ve kissed a couple guys before, sure — awkward fumbling in the dark during high school parties, all sloppy lips and unsure hands that never quite knew where to go or how to make it feel good. but nothing more. no one has ever touched you the way you know jake has touched his exes. you’ve overheard enough whispered conversations in the girls’ bathroom or seen the way those exes still look at him sometimes with fond, satisfied smiles.
jake is the type who probably knows exactly what he’s doing — patient, attentive, skilled in ways that leave girls breathless and glowing, satisfied down to their bones. the kind of guy who takes his time, learns what makes someone moan and shiver, who makes sex feel like an art form instead of a clumsy rush. and the thought of him finding out how clueless you are makes your cheeks burn even in the middle of this loud, overheated party, a flush creeping up your neck that has nothing to do with the alcohol you’re barely drinking.
what if you freeze up when things finally get intimate? what if your hands shake too much to touch him the right way, or you don’t know how to kiss him properly with that slow, deep confidence he probably expects? what if you can’t make him feel good, can’t match the energy of his past girlfriends who clearly knew how to please him back? what if he realizes you’re not on the same level — not experienced, not sexy, not adventurous enough — and the interest in his eyes dims? the flirting would stop. the texts would fade. he’d move on to someone who doesn’t need to google basic techniques in secret or lie awake at night worrying about being a disappointment in bed.
you bite the inside of your cheek hard enough to taste the faint metallic taste, forcing your gaze away just as the girl leans up to whisper something in jake’s ear. her lips brush close, too close, and he laughs softly — that low, charming sound carrying across the room like a sweet melody cut through the bass. it’s warm and genuine, the kind that makes butterflies erupt in your stomach even from this distance.
you turn toward the counter instead, pretending to refill your cup from the half-empty punch bowl, the liquid sloshing messily as your hand trembles slightly. the ice cubes clink loudly in your cup, a small distraction from the way your heart pounds against your ribs.
around you, the party pulses on without pause. someone bumps your shoulder accidentally, muttering a quick sorry before disappearing back into the crowd. a group of girls nearby bursts into giggles over some inside joke, their voices high and tipsy. the music shifts to a slower track, something with heavy bass and breathy vocals that only makes the atmosphere feel more charged, more intimate despite the chaos. you glance back once more, unable to resist, and catch jake’s eyes flicking in your direction for the briefest second. does he see you? does that dimpled smile flicker with recognition? your breath catches, but then he’s turning back to the girl, saying something that makes her touch his arm again, and the moment slips away like smoke.
you set the cup down untouched, wiping your damp palms on the sides of your jeans. the insecurity sits heavy in your chest, a constant whisper reminding you that jake sim deserves someone who can keep up. someone confident. someone who knows how to flirt without second-guessing every word, how to touch without hesitation, how to make a guy like him lose control in the best ways.
and right now, that someone feels impossibly far from who you are — standing here in the corner, heart racing over nothing more than a smile across a crowded room.
the party swirls around you, alive and indifferent, but your mind stays trapped in that loop of what-ifs and quiet longing, the bass still humming low like a reminder that time is moving forward whether you’re ready or not.
“you’re doing that thing again,” a familiar voice says beside you.
yunjin appears like magic, sliding an arm around your waist and resting her chin on your shoulder. her long hair tickles your neck, smelling like coconut shampoo and the strawberry lip gloss she always wears. she’s been your best friend since freshman orientation — loud where you’re quiet, confident where you overthink everything.
“what thing?” you mumble, even though you already know.
“the ‘staring at jake like he hung the moon but also might destroy my entire soul’ thing.” she steals a sip from your cup and grimaces. “ugh, you’re drinking the watered-down shit again. come on, let’s get you something stronger.”
you let her drag you toward the other end of the kitchen, but your mind stays stuck on jake. even through the hazy, crowded warmth of the party, your eyes keep drifting back to where he’s laughing with some guys from the club soccer team. yunjin notices, of course. she always does, her grip tightening on your arm in a silent show of support while she pours something sweet and dangerously strong into a fresh red cup for you.
later that night, after the party finally winds down and the bass stops rattling your teeth, you’re both back in your shared off-campus apartment. the contrast is jarring, the heavy silence of the night settling over everything. the real conversation happens when the rest of the world is asleep. you’re sprawled on your bed in oversized pajamas, hair still slightly damp and curling from a quick shower, while yunjin sits cross-legged on the floor painting her nails a deep, glossy burgundy. the lamp on your nightstand casts a soft, amber glow across the room, and the distant city hums faintly outside the window.
“okay, spill,” she says without looking up, carefully dragging the tiny brush over her thumbnail. “you’ve been weird about jake for weeks. what’s the hold-up? he literally flirted with you for twenty minutes last tuesday in the café. he doesn’t do that unless he’s serious. he was giving you that puppy-dog look the whole time.”
you pull your knees tightly to your chest, hugging them until your knuckles turn white. the weight of the secret has been crushing you for days, and the words finally tumble out before you can stop them.
“i’m scared, yunjin. really scared.”
she glances up instantly, the brush hovering inches above her index finger. the playful tease drops from her face. “scared of what? jake’s a sweetheart. he’s not some asshole who’s going to play games with you.”
“it’s not him. it’s… me.” your voice drops to a pathetic whisper, your cheeks instantly heating up with a fierce, burning blush. you bury your chin in your knees. “i’m a virgin. completely. i’ve barely even done anything beyond clumsy high school kissing. and jake’s had actual girlfriends. serious ones. he knows what he’s doing, yunjin. what if i’m bad at it? what if i disappoint him? he’ll realize i’m not… enough. not experienced enough. not sexy enough. not whatever his exes were.”
yunjin sets the nail polish bottle down on a stray magazine slowly, giving you her full, undivided attention. her expression softens, the fierce protectiveness she always has for you melting into something tender, though there’s still a sharp spark of determination in her eyes.
“babe… first of all, that’s so normal. lots of people are virgins in college, even if they don't advertise it. second, if jake likes you — and he clearly does — he’s not going to expect you to be some kind of porn star on day one. he'd probably think it was sweet, honestly.” she pauses, watching your miserable expression. “but i get it. you want to feel confident. you don't want to be overthinking every single touch when you're finally alone with him. you want to blow his mind when it happens.”
you nod miserably, burying your face completely in your knees for a second, your voice muffled. “i just want to feel like I know what I'm doing. just a little bit.”
yunjin taps her freshly painted fingers on the carpet, her mind visibly whirring. then she smiles — that mischievous, slightly dangerous, scheming smile you know all too well. it’s the smile that usually precedes a terrible, brilliant idea.
“if you really want to impress him… there’s someone who can help.”
you peek at her over the tops of your knees, skeptical. “what do you mean? like a book? a podcast?”
“sunghoon’s friend. jay. jay park.” she says it like the name should mean something immediately, dropping it into the quiet room like a bombshell. “he’s discreet as hell. experienced — like, really experienced. girls talk about him in hushed tones in the sorority houses, trust me. apparently he’s an incredible teacher. no strings attached, just pure skill-building. he’s actually done this before for a couple of people who were in your exact shoes. helps them get confident, learn what they need to know. everything from flirting, body language, touching, all the way down to… you know.”
your eyes widen to the size of saucers. “you’re joking. you want me to ask a random guy to tutor me in sex?”
“dead serious. he’s not a fuckboy in the messy, heartbroken-trail way. more like… selective. efficient.” yunjin leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees, her tone shifting into something more serious. “and look, here's the thing. jay is known for fucking the girls he hangs out with, yeah. he has that reputation for a reason. but… you don't have to do that. he's not some caveman. jay is actually the best one on this entire campus to go to for advice, even if you never lay a finger on him.”
she waves a hand to emphasize her point, careful not to smudge her polish. “he might make an exception for you. you can literally just have the option of not sleeping with him. you can just go to him, tell him the situation, and let him give you advice. he knows how guys think, he knows what jake’s vibe is since they run in similar circles, and he can literally just talk you through it. teach you how to read the room, how to touch without being awkward. but if you do decide you want hands-on practice? he's the guy. if you approach him the right way and you’re honest, he’ll probably say yes to whatever level you’re comfortable with. he’s good at keeping secrets too. sunghoon swears he's the most trustworthy guy he knows.”
you stare at her, your heart hammering a rapid rhythm against your ribs. jay. you’ve seen him around campus, of course. everyone has. he’s impossible to miss — tall, with that sharp jawline, dark hair usually styled flawlessly, always dressed like he just stepped out of a high-end fashion magazine. he has this quiet, heavy confidence mixed with a sharp, teasing look that makes people nervous to look him in the eye for too long. the mere idea of walking up to him and asking him for… lessons felt completely insane. humiliating. but beneath the embarrassment, a tiny, buried part of you felt a thrill that was absolutely terrifying.
“i couldn’t,” you whisper, your voice shaking slightly. “yunjin, that’s crazy. 'hey jay, can you teach me how to be good in bed so i can go sleep with your acquaintance?' he’ll laugh in my face.”
“is it crazier than stressing yourself sick over whether you’ll be good enough for jake? you're practically giving yourself an ulcer over a guy who hasn't even kissed you yet.” yunjin raises a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “look, you deserve to feel prepared. empowered. jay’s the guy for that, whether he's just talking to you over a drink or showing you what to do. no emotions, no drama, just practice and advice. think about it. just promise me you'll think about it.”
the conversation lingers long after yunjin finally packs up her nail polish and leaves your room, kissing your forehead goodnight and telling you to text her if you need to spiral more. you lie awake in the dark, staring at the ceiling, the name jay repeating in your head like a dare.
you lie there in the dark, the harsh blue glow of your phone illuminating your face in the otherwise pitch-black room. your thumb hovers precariously over the message bar, trembling slightly.
you had found jay’s contact info through a mutual friend's group chat earlier that night, your heart racing so fast you could hear it in your ears the entire time you were saving his number. now, at exactly 2:17 a.m., the sheer absurdity of the hour matches the sheer absurdity of what you're about to do. you type a sentence, delete it. type another, delete that too. you rewrite the message five times, your palms sweating against the glass screen, before you finally force your thumb to stay still and craft something that sounds at least semi-coherent.
you: hi… this is awkward but um. yunjin mentioned you might be able to help with some… lessons? about confidence and stuff. with guys. i’m really new to all of it and there’s this guy i like and i don’t want to mess it up. if you’re not interested that’s totally fine, sorry for bothering you this late.
you hit send.
the instant the little outgoing chime sounds, a wave of pure, instant regret crashes over you. you toss the phone away like it’s physically burning you, letting it land somewhere in the tangled blankets at the foot of your bed. you cover your face with both hands, groaning softly into the quiet room. this is ridiculous. it's humiliating. who even asks for something like this? jay park is going to think you're an absolute freak, or worse, he's going to screenshot it and show sunghoon.
a minute passes. then two. the silence in your room feels heavy, suffocating. you're just about to reach down and turn the phone completely off to save yourself further agony when the mattress vibrates.
buzz.
your heart leaps into your throat. you scramble through the covers, fishing for the device and unlocking it with shaking fingers.
jay: well this is a new way to get my attention. lessons, huh? for a specific guy? bold.
before you can even process the dry, teasing tone of his text, another message bubbles up right underneath it.
jay: meet me tomorrow at the café near the east library. 4pm. we can talk details. don’t overthink it too much, newbie.
your stomach flips hard, dropping into a dizzying freefall. he said yes. kind of. it’s incredibly teasing, dripping with the exact kind of effortless confidence that usually intimidates you, but it’s still a yes. he didn't laugh you off. he didn't tell you to lose his number.
you roll onto your back, dropping the phone onto your chest and staring up at the ceiling fan spinning lazily above you. the shadows from the blades cut rhythmic patterns across the ceiling, but they do nothing to soothe your mind, which is currently racing at a thousand miles an hour.
what the hell are you actually doing?
asking jay park — the campus mystery, the guy who walks through hallways like he owns them, the one with that intense, piercing stare that makes people look away first — to teach you how to flirt, how to touch, how to… god, how to do everything. and you're doing it all just so you can feel like you're enough for jake sim. the contrast between the two boys couldn't be wider: jake, with his warm, sweet, golden-retriever energy and easy smiles, and jay, who feels like a sharp knife, dark leather jackets, and expensive cologne.
but underneath the suffocating layers of panic and embarrassment, a tiny, unfamiliar spark begins to take hold. it’s a spark of excitement. of real hope. yunjin was right; you've been putting yourself through misery over your lack of experience. maybe this is exactly what you need to break out of your own head. maybe jay really can turn you into someone confident, someone desirable — someone who won’t freeze up or panic when jake finally makes a real move.
you pull the heavy blanket higher up over your shoulders, curling onto your side as your phone screen finally times out and dims, plunging the room back into total darkness.
tomorrow at 4 p.m. there's no backing out now. you're really doing this.
and as exhaustion finally starts to get to you, a nervous, slightly hysterical laugh escapes your lips into the quiet apartment.
what have you gotten yourself into?
-------
the next afternoon, 4:00 p.m. arrives far too quickly.
the café near the east library is tucked away in a quieter corner of the campus, mostly populated by grad students typing furiously on laptops and the heavy smell of roasted coffee beans. you change your outfit three times before leaving the apartment, finally settling on something casual but not too casual, your hands sweating the entire walk over.
when you push the glass door open, the little bell chiming above you feels like a death threat. you look around the dimly lit space, and there he is.
jay is sitting at a small corner table near the back window, looking entirely too calm and entirely too hot for a thursday afternoon. he’s wearing a simple black sweater, the sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms, and his dark hair is perfectly styled, just like always. he has a half-empty iced americano in front of him, his thumb casually scrolling through his phone. there’s a quiet, effortless aura of arrogance around him, but as he catches movement and looks up, his sharp features soften into a playful, lazy smirk.
“you’re exactly on time,” he says, his voice a low, smooth rumble that instantly makes your stomach do a flip. he slides the empty chair opposite him out with his foot. “sit. you look like you’re about to faint.”
you sink into the chair, gripping your tote bag tightly against your chest like a shield. “hi. thank you for coming.”
“relax, newbie. i don’t bite,” he teases, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. he studies your burning, red face for a second before a soft chuckle escapes him. “you know, you could have just told me the whole story in the text. saved yourself some typing.”
you blink, confused. “what do you mean?”
jay leans forward, resting his elbows on the table, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a dangerous amount of amusement. “yunjin told sunghoon. sunghoon told me. so, i already know the full context.” his smirk widens, making him look devastatingly handsome. “so you want to learn how to fuck properly for jake sim? bold.”
your entire face explodes in a fierce, blinding heat. you literally feel the blood rushing to your cheeks, and for a terrifying, very long second, you consider hiding under the table or running away as fast as you can. you bury your face in your hands, your voice muffled and laced with pure mortification. “oh my god. i am going to kill yunjin. i am actually going to murder her.”
jay lets out a genuine, low laugh at your reaction, the sound rich and surprisingly warm. “don’t kill her yet. she’s just looking out for you. and honestly? it’s refreshing. most girls try a lot harder to play it cool around me.”
you slowly drop your hands, your cheeks still burning a bright pink. “i don't even know what i'm doing here. this is insane.”
“it’s only insane if you make it insane,” jay says calmly, his playful tone softening just a fraction into something a bit more business-like. he pushes a clean napkin and a pen toward you, though he keeps his eyes on your face. “let’s treat this like an introduction. an assessment. before we can fix anything, i need to know what we’re working with. list all the things you think you’re bad at. everything you're worried about. so i know what to focus on.”
you stare at the blank napkin, swallowing hard. the vulnerability of it feels immense, but you’re already here, and you’re already completely humiliated. you take a deep breath and start listing them off, your voice dropping to a quiet whisper so the barista won’t hear.
“flirting,” you start, counting on your fingers instead of writing it down. “i freeze up. and… kissing. i’ve only ever done clumsy high school kissing, nothing serious. touching… like, knowing where to put my hands without being awkward. sex, obviously, since i’ve never done it. and… just confidence in general. i overthink everything until i ruin the mood.”
jay listens quietly, his sharp eyes tracking the movement of your fingers. he doesn't laugh, and he doesn't tease you this time. he just nods slowly, absorbing the information.
“okay. that’s a solid list,” he says. then, his gaze drops to how tightly you’re still clutching your bag, your knuckles white, your shoulders tense and pulled high. his eyes lift back to yours, perceptive and sharp. “you’re terrified i’m going to try to jump you, aren’t you?”
your breath hitches. you open your mouth to deny it, but the words catch in your throat. you are skeptical about getting physical with him. the idea of practicing on jay park feels like playing with fire, and you’re fully aware you might get burned.
jay sighs softly, leaning back again, his posture completely relaxed to contrast your tension. “look at me.”
you look up, meeting his intense stare.
“yunjin told you i have a reputation, and she’s right. i’m not going to sit here and pretend i’m a saint,” jay says, his tone completely direct, peer-to-peer, without a shred of judgment. “but i don’t do anything without absolute consent. i can see you’re stressed out of your mind right now. so, let’s take the pressure off. we are not getting physical. the ‘lessons’ will be entirely theoretical. just talking, advice, breaking down how guys think, and giving you the blueprint. unless you explicitly ask to change that later down the line, we keep our hands to ourselves. deal?”
the relief that washes over you is so sudden and heavy that your shoulders visibly drop. “deal. thank you. seriously.”
“don’t thank me yet, newbie. you’re still going to have to work on that confidence,” jay says, that familiar, teasing grin creeping back onto his face. he stands up, grabbing his iced coffee and sliding his phone into his pocket. “we’re done for today. meet me at my dorm tomorrow afternoon. third floor of the west quad, room 314. we’ll start the actual work then.”
he gives you one last, lingering look — a mix of amusement and something else you can’t quite read — before turning and walking out of the café, leaving you alone at the table with a racing heart and the sudden realization that you’re actually going through with this.
-------
the next afternoon, you find yourself standing outside room 314 in the west quad, your heart doing gymnastics against your ribs. you take three deep, stabilizing breaths before finally raising a shaking hand to knock.
the door swings open almost immediately, and jay stands there looking effortlessly put-together in a gray hoodie and sweatpants. his hair is slightly messy today, falling over his forehead, which somehow makes him look even more intimidatingly handsome.
“you’re on time again. i like that,” he says, stepping back to let you in.
his dorm is surprisingly clean and smells faintly of sandalwood and expensive laundry detergent. there’s a vinyl player in the corner, a desk stacked with textbooks, and a neatly made bed. jay walks over to his desk chair, spins it around to face the bed, and motions for you to sit on the mattress.
“alright, newbie. welcome to lesson one,” jay says, his tone shifting into something surprisingly focused. he sits down, crossing his legs and resting his elbows on his knees. “today is all about the fundamentals. eye contact, body language, and light teasing. if you can't master the tension before you even touch a guy, everything else falls flat. so, we start here.”
you nod, swallowing hard, trying to look like a good student. “okay. what do i do?”
“first thing: eye contact,” jay says, leaning forward slightly. his dark eyes lock onto yours, intense and unblinking. “when you’re talking to jake, you have a habit of looking down at your shoes or glancing away every three seconds. it makes you look like you’re guilty of a crime. i want you to hold my gaze. don’t look away until i do.”
you brace yourself and look straight into his eyes. one second passes. then two. the sheer intensity of his stare feels like a physical weight in the room. by second four, your heart is pounding, your throat feels dry, and your eyes instinctively dart toward the window.
jay lets out a soft, amused scoff. “four seconds. tragic. again.”
you lock eyes with him again, biting the inside of your cheek. this time, you manage to hold it, but you can feel your face flushing a bright, furious pink.
jay watches the blush spread across your cheeks, a slow, lazy half-smile spreading across his face. he’s clearly enjoying how easily he can fluster you, his eyes crinkling slightly at the corners. “you’re cute when you’re panicking, you know that? but you need to relax your shoulders. you look like a statue.”
“it’s hard,” you complain, your voice a little high. “you’re staring at me like a hawk.”
“jake is going to stare at you too, newbie. you need to get used to it,” jay teases, leaning back in his chair with a playful grin. “alright, let’s move on to flirting and light teasing. pretend i’m jake. we’re at a party, i just walked up to you, and i say, ‘hey, i like your outfit.’ how do you respond?”
you clear your throat, trying to channel every romantic comedy you’ve ever watched. you try to mimic the slow, confident smirk jay always uses, but your lips twitch awkwardly.
“oh, this old thing?” you say, your voice dripping with a completely unnatural, overly dramatic theatricality. you even throw in a bizarre little hair flip that feels entirely forced. “thanks. i guess you don’t look too bad yourself.”
the room goes completely silent.
jay just stares at you for three long seconds, his expression an unbelievable mix of utter disbelief and pure, unadulterated amusement. then, he buries his face in his hands, his shoulders shaking as a deep, breathless laugh escapes him.
“oh my god,” jay groans, looking up at you with tears of laughter in his eyes. “that was… easily the worst thing i have ever heard in my entire life.”
“hey!” you yell, grabbing a stray pillow from his bed and throwing it at his chest. your face is practically purple with embarrassment. “i told you i was bad at this!”
jay catches the pillow effortlessly, still laughing. “bad? newbie, that wasn’t just bad. that was completely goofy. you sounded like a cartoon villain trying to seduce a detective. and what was that hair flip? did you have a muscle spasm?”
“stop laughing at me!” you hide your face in your hands, completely mortified. “this was a mistake. i’m leaving.”
“no, stay, sit down,” jay says, his laughter finally dying down into a wide, bright grin. he tosses the pillow back onto the bed and leans in closer, his voice dropping into a softer, playful murmur. “i'm sorry, i shouldn't laugh. it was honestly kind of endearing. but we definitely have our work cut out for us.”
you peek through your fingers at him, pouty and defensive. “fine. how am i supposed to say it, mr. expert?”
jay shifts in his chair, his entire demeanor changing in a split second. the laughter vanishes, replaced by a smooth, magnetic confidence that makes your breath hitch. he looks at you, his eyes dropping to your lips for a microsecond before rising back to your eyes. a small, knowing grin plays at the corner of his mouth.
“if i say ‘i like your outfit,’ you don’t act like a theater kid,” jay says softly, his voice a low, teasing purr that makes goosebumps break out on your arms. “you look him right in the eye, hold it for a second, smile just a little bit, and say… ‘thanks. i wore it hoping you’d notice.’”
you stare at him, your mouth slightly open, completely paralyzed by how smoothly he delivered the line. the air in the dorm suddenly feels incredibly thick, the playful atmosphere from a second ago completely evaporating into something heavy and charged.
jay holds your gaze for a beat longer, making sure the lesson lands, before breaking the tension with a quiet chuckle. he taps his fingers against his knee, leaning back in his chair. “see the difference? subtle. playful. now, let’s try it again. and this time, keep your hair exactly where it is.”
you swallow the lump in your throat, trying desperately to shake off the weird shiver that just ran down your spine. he’s just demonstrating, you remind yourself. he does this for fun.
“okay,” you mutter, pulling your knees up to your chest on his bed and trying to center yourself. “subtle. no theater-kid energy. got it.”
“alright. take two,” jay says, his expression shifting back into that smooth, predatory calm. he locks his eyes onto yours. “hey. i like your outfit.”
you force yourself not to look away. you look at his dark eyes, then let your gaze drop slightly to his lips — just like he did — before looking back up. you attempt a small, knowing smile, though your heart is hammering against your ribs.
“thanks,” you say, your voice a little softer than usual, a little more genuine. “i wore it hoping you’d notice.”
jay doesn't laugh this time. he stays perfectly still, his eyes tracking the slight tremor in your bottom lip. for a second, his grin falters, replaced by a sharp, intense curiosity that makes your stomach do a violent flip. then, the lazy crooked smile creeps back onto his face, and he nods approvingly.
“better,” he murmurs, his voice a low rumble. “way better. see? you don’t need to put on a performance. guys like jake — and guys like me — we can tell when a girl is trying too hard. authenticity is hotter than any script you could write. you just have to let yourself feel the tension instead of running away from it.”
the rest of the hour goes by in a blur of intense eye contact and brutal, playful critiques. jay puts you through a dozen different scenarios. he teaches you how to respond to a compliment without deflecting it, how to use a quiet pause in conversation to your advantage, and how a simple change in posture can make you look completely magnetic.
he doesn't miss a single chance to tease you, though. every time you stumble over your words or give a goofy response, he boops your nose with his pen or groans dramatically into his hands. but by the time the alarm on his phone buzzes to signal the end of the hour, you realize something shocking: you aren’t so uncomfortable anymore. you’re actually laughing with him.
“alright, session one complete,” jay says, standing up and stretching his arms over his head, pulling his hoodie up just enough for you to catch a glimpse of his toned stomach. you quickly look away, your face heating up again. he catches you, of course, and just smirks. “homework for tonight: practice looking people in the eye. the cashier at the dining hall, your professors, yunjin. don’t look down.”
“fine, professor park,” you roll your eyes, sliding off his bed and grabbing your bag. “thanks. for not totally giving up on me.”
“i don't give up on my projects, newbie,” he says, walking you to the door. he opens it, leaning against the frame and looking down at you with a soft, surprisingly warm expression. “see you in two days. don't overthink it.”
“i'll try,” you murmur, giving him a small wave before turning and walking down the hallway.
the walk back to your apartment is a long one, and the cool evening air does nothing to calm the frantic state of your brain. you wrap your cardigan tighter around yourself, your sneakers clicking rhythmically against the pavement as you re-read every single moment of the last hour in your head.
your mind is a chaotic mess of conflicting thoughts.
first of all, jay was right. the theoretical approach did help. just understanding the mechanics of how to hold a gaze and how to drop your voice made you feel like a secret weapon was being built inside you. you find yourself imagining using those exact tricks on jake next tuesday at the café. you imagine looking jake in the eye, holding his gaze, and saying something subtle and confident. the thought makes your stomach flutter with a nervous, happy anticipation. it’s exactly what you wanted.
but as you cross the street near the campus green, another thought creeps in, unbidden and entirely unwelcome.
jay.
you pull a breath into your lungs, a strange, tight feeling in your chest. you had gone into that room completely terrified of him, expecting a cold, arrogant guy who would judge your total lack of experience. instead, he had been… patient. incredibly observant. and so frustratingly attractive that it felt like a safety hazard.
when he had delivered that line — i wore it hoping you’d notice — the look in his eyes hadn't felt like a lesson at all. it had felt entirely too real. the way his voice had dropped, the way he had effortlessly controlled the energy in the room… it was terrifying how easily he could manipulate your feelings with just a shift in his posture.
he’s a professional, you remind yourself sternly, walking up the steps to your apartment building. he has a reputation for a reason. he’s doing this to help you with jake. do not confuse the lines.
yet, as you unlock your front door and hear yunjin yelling something from the kitchen, you can’t shake the memory of jay’s lazy, knowing smirk from your mind. you had spent weeks stressing yourself sick over jake sim, but as you step into your apartment, you realize with a sudden wave of panic that learning how to play the game with jay park might be a hundred times more dangerous.
-------
two days later, you find yourself back outside room 314. you don't even need to take three deep breaths this time — only two.
when jay opens the door, he’s wearing a faded vintage band tee and dark jeans, looking like he just rolled out of bed but somehow still managed to look effortlessly attractive. he takes one look at your face, steps back to let you in, and closes the door with a quiet click.
“welcome back, newbie,” he says, a lazy grin already spreading across his face. “did you do your homework? did you look the dining hall lady in the eye, or did you stare at your tater tots again?”
“i looked her straight in the eye,” you say proudly, tossing your tote bag onto his desk chair. “she looked confused, but i didn’t look down once.”
“proud of you,” jay chuckles, walking over to his mini-fridge to grab a bottle of water. he takes a sip before turning his full attention to you, his eyes sweeping over your outfit before locking onto yours. “alright, today is lesson two. we’re graduating from eye contact. today is all about compliments, voice tone, and what i like to call ‘innocent’ touching. leaning in, brushing an arm, breaking the physical barrier without making it a big deal. ready?”
you nod, though your stomach does a familiar little nervous flip. “ready.”
“good. sit on the bed,” jay commands smoothly, pulling his desk chair over so he’s sitting directly across from you again, only this time, he hitches the chair closer. his knees are barely a few inches from yours. the proximity alone makes the air feel instantly thick. “let’s start with compliments and tone. a lot of girls think giving a compliment means squealing and saying ‘oh my god your hair looks so good today!’ that’s friend-zone energy. jake doesn't need another cheerleader. he needs to know you see him as a man. understand?”
“yeah,” you murmur, swallowing hard.
“so, voice tone is everything. drop your volume. speak from your chest, not your throat. make him lean in to hear you,” jay instructs, his own voice dropping into that low, gravelly pitch that makes your ears tingle. “let’s try it. i walk up to you. i’m jake. i’m wearing a nice cologne. compliment me.”
you take a second to clear your throat, trying to channel your inner siren. you lean forward slightly, look him in the eye, and speak in what you think is a sultry whisper. “wow, jay. you smell really… nice. like a tree.”
jay blinks. the room is dead silent for three seconds.
then, he lets out a sharp, breathless laugh, burying his face in his hands. “like a tree? like a tree? oh my god, newbie, please tell me you’re joking.”
“it’s sandalwood!” you protest, your face instantly turning a furious shade of crimson as you grab his pillow again, though this time he anticipates it and firmly plants a hand on it before you can throw it. “you literally smell like sandalwood and cedar! that’s a tree!”
“you sound like a park ranger,” jay groans, his shoulders shaking with laughter as he pulls the pillow out of your hands. “and your voice went all breathy and weird at the end, like you were running out of oxygen. i said drop your pitch, not sound like you have asthma.”
“i told you i’m bad at this!” you whine, burying your burning face in your hands. “this is why i’m a virgin, jay. i have negative game.”
“hey, look at me,” jay says, his voice softening, though the vibrant amusement is still dancing in his dark eyes. he gently reaches out and taps your wrist until you drop your hands from your face. “it’s fine. that’s why you’re here. let’s try it again, but don’t think about the specific words. don’t describe the scent. just focus on how it makes you feel. and keep the voice steady. smooth. try it.”
you take a deep breath, looking into his eyes. you wait a beat, letting the silence stretch just like he taught you in lesson one. then, keeping your voice low and stable, you say, “you smell really good today. it’s distracting.”
jay pauses. his smirk falters for a fraction of a second, his eyes darkening just a tiny bit as he processes the delivery. a slow, appreciative smile replaces his laughter. “there we go. that’s the tone. smooth, grounded, a little bit dangerous. jake would literally lose his mind if you said that to him.”
a rush of pride swells in your chest. you actually did it.
“alright, now let’s add the physical element,” jay says, leaning back slightly but keeping his eyes locked onto yours. “innocent touching is all about making it look accidental. it has to look accidental, but feel intentional. a brush of the shoulder when you laugh, a lingering touch on the arm when you’re emphasizing a point. it makes the moments stick, you know? let’s combine them. give me that same compliment, but this time, i want you to break the physical barrier.”
your heart restarts its frantic rhythm. touching him wasn’t part of the original plan, but this is entirely safe — just an arm, just a shoulder. theoretical practice in action.
“okay,” you whisper.
you look at him. you focus on your breathing, trying to get rid of the tension in your shoulders. you lean in slightly, your eyes dropping to his lips before rising back to his eyes. you reach your hand out, your fingers trembling just a fraction, and gently brush your fingertips against his forearm, letting them linger on the soft fabric of his sleeve.
“you smell really good today,” you say softly, your voice perfectly steady this time. “it’s distracting.”
you expect jay to pull back, or to laugh, or to give you another critique. instead, jay doesn't even flinch. he doesn't get nervous at all; if anything, the touch seems to ground him. his eyes track your hand on his arm, and then slowly, deliberately, he tilts his head, a devastatingly handsome, wicked grin pulling at his lips.
he doesn't break your touch. instead, he leans forward, bringing his face so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your cheek.
“is it?” jay murmurs, his voice dropping an octave, completely turning the tables on you. “if you think my cologne is distracting, newbie… you’re never going to survive the rest of these lessons.”
your breath hitches completely. your heart thumps so hard against your ribs you’re certain he can hear it. he’s completely unbothered, completely in control, flirting back with an effortless grace that leaves you completely breathless.
“you… you cheated,” you squeak out, frantically pulling your hand back and sitting straight up, your face hot enough to fry an egg. “you’re not supposed to flirt back! you’re supposed to be jake!”
jay lets out a low, rich chuckle, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms, looking immensely pleased with himself. “jake is going to flirt back, newbie. if a girl touched him like that and gave him that compliment, he wouldn't just sit there like a log. he’s going to lean in. you need to learn how to handle the counter-attack.”
you pout, crossing your arms defensively. “you’re just showing off.”
“maybe a little,” he admits, his eyes crinkling with that playful, arrogant charm. “but you did great. seriously. the touch was perfect — light, lingering, just enough to make a guy notice. let’s try another one. this time, let’s practice the ‘laugh and lean.’ when i say something funny, you lean in, laugh naturally, and let your shoulder brush mine. let’s see if you can handle it without panicking.”
for the next hour, the room feels like a battlefield of tension and laughter. you practice over and over again. you try leaning in to whisper something “secretive” in his ear, your breath brushing against his neck, which makes jay’s jaw tighten for a brief second before he recovers with a smooth, teasing remark. you practice brushing a stray piece of lint off his shoulder, letting your fingers drag slowly down his chest.
every time you do it well, jay praises you, his voice warm and encouraging, but he never lets you get too comfortable. he always pushes back — catching your wrist gently, leaning into your space, or dropping a low, dangerous compliment right back to test your boundaries. he doesn't get flustered, but you notice that as the lesson goes on, his jokes get a little quieter, his smirks a little softer, and his dark eyes stay locked onto yours with an intensity that makes it harder and harder to remember that this is just a game.
“alright,” jay finally says, his voice a bit rough as he checks his phone. “that’s enough torturing you for one day.”
you sink back against his pillows, completely exhausted but tingling with a weird, electric energy. “i think i actually did okay today.”
“you did better than okay,” jay says, standing up and looking down at you. he reaches out, and for a second, you think he’s going to tease you again, but instead, he gently runs his thumb over the side of your cheek, a surprisingly tender gesture that makes your heart stop. “you’re a quick learner, newbie. jake won’t know what hit him.”
he pulls his hand back smoothly, leaving your skin tingling where his thumb had just been. he walks to the door, opening it with that signature, lazy smirk.
“go home, get some rest. next lesson, we’re talking about kissing mechanics. try not to lose sleep over it.”
you scramble off the bed, grabbing your bag and practically running past him into the hallway, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm as his quiet laughter follows you down the corridor.
the next monday, you’re sitting in the back row of your lecture hall, pretending to take notes on a PowerPoint about microeconomics. in reality, you’ve just been drawing mindless spirals in the margin of your notebook, your brain completely occupied by the memory of jay’s thumb brushing against your cheek.
“next lesson, we’re talking about kissing mechanics.”
the memory of his low, rough voice echoes in your head, making you shiver despite the aggressive air conditioning in the auditorium.
suddenly, a sharp elbow digs into your ribs.
“you’re doing a new thing,” yunjin whispers loudly, leaning over the shared desk. she has her laptop open, but instead of notes, she has a blank word document filled with a massive, stylized question mark. “the ‘staring into the abyss like you’re trying to decode the matrix’ thing. spill. now.”
“shh,” you hiss, keeping your eyes glued to the professor. “we’re in the middle of class.”
“the professor is seventy-five and doesn’t have his hearing aids turned up, babe. talk,” yunjin demands, sliding her chair a microscopic inch closer to yours. her eyes narrow, her strawberry lip gloss catching the fluorescent lights as she tilts her head. “it’s been days. you’ve been acting weirdly quiet, you didn’t spiral once this weekend, and you’ve been practicing weirdly intense eye contact with the barista at the campus cafe. which means… the lessons started. how is jay park?”
your face immediately flares up, the heat rising rapidly from your neck to your cheeks. you grab your highlighter and aggressively color over a random definition on your paper. “it’s fine. it’s going fine.”
“‘it’s fine’ does not make a girl turn the color of a fire hydrant,” yunjin points out, a massive, predatory grin spreading across her face. she leans in so close her coconut-scented hair brushes your shoulder. “oh my god. did you guys do it? did he break his rule? did you break the no-fucking clause already? details, give me details!”
“no! oh my god, no!” you whisper-yell, frantically looking around to see if any of the athletes in the row ahead of you heard. luckily, they’re all asleep. you drop your voice to a desperate, tiny whisper. “we didn’t do anything. i told you, it’s completely theoretical. he promised.”
“okay, okay, keeping it professional. i respect it,” yunjin says, waving a dismissive hand, though her eyes are still dancing with intense curiosity. “so what exactly happens in a ‘theoretical’ sex lesson with jay park? does he use a whiteboard? powerpoint slides?”
“no,” you mumble, hiding the lower half of your face behind your hand. “he… we just sit in his dorm. he makes me practice scenarios. the first lesson was just eye contact and light teasing. he basically told me i have the flirting skills of a cartoon villain.”
yunjin bursts out into a short, choked laugh, quickly covering her mouth with her sleeve when the professor coughs. “i mean, he’s not wrong, babe. remember freshman year when you tried to wink at that guy on the club team and looked like you were having a neurological event?”
“i’m better now!” you defend yourself, your voice tight. “jay fixed it. well, he’s fixing it. we had lesson two a couple days ago.”
yunjin leans in even closer, her notebook completely forgotten. “and? what was lesson two?”
“compliments. voice tone. and… innocent touching,” you whisper, your chest tightening just thinking about it. “like, leaning in and brushing his arm. or laughing and letting our shoulders touch.”
yunjin’s jaw literally drops. she stares at you, her eyes wide. “wait. you touched jay park? the guy who usually looks like he’ll have you legally removed from his presence if you breathe his oxygen? how did he react? did he flinch?”
“no, that’s the thing,” you groan, burying your face in your notebook for a second before looking back at her miserably. “he didn't flinch at all. yunjin, he’s completely immune to me. when i gave him the compliment and touched his arm, i thought i did a really good job. i dropped my voice, i held his gaze, all of it. but then he just… he didn't even blink. he just leaned all the way into my face and flirted back. he said something like, ‘if you think my cologne is distracting, newbie, you’re never going to survive the rest of these lessons.’”
yunjin lets out a low, silent gasp, her hands flying to her mouth. “oh my god. newbie? he calls you newbie? that is so disgustingly hot, i think i’m going to throw up.”
“it’s not hot, it’s terrifying!” you whined, chewing on the cap of your pen. “he is so effortlessly in control of the room. every time i think i’m getting the hang of it, he just raises the stakes to test if i’ll panic. he spent the whole hour praising me when i did it right, but then he'd immediately counter-attack to show me how a guy would react. by the end of it, my heart was beating so hard i thought i was going to pass out.”
yunjin studies your face, her playful demeanor shifting into something a bit more analytical, a small, knowing grin tugging at the corner of her lips. “and what about jake? are you thinking about jake when you’re doing all this?”
the question catches you completely off guard. you pause, your pen hovering over the paper.
“i… yeah,” you say, though the answer feels a little delayed, a little less certain than it should be. “of course i am. the whole point of this is so i don’t ruin things with jake. i keep imagining using the tricks on him.”
“right. of course,” yunjin says softly, though the look she gives you is incredibly perceptive. she taps her chin. “so, what’s next on the syllabus, student of the year?”
you swallow hard, the bell suddenly ringing to signal the end of the lecture. you pack your laptop into your bag with slightly trembling hands, refusing to look yunjin in the eye as you mutter the final detail.
“kissing mechanics. we’re doing kissing next.”
yunjin pauses mid-stride as you both walk out into the crowded hallway, a massive, thrilled grin spreading across her face. “oh, babe. you are playing with actual fireworks. good luck surviving that one.”
-------
the next afternoon, you find yourself walking back up the stairs of the west quad. your nerves are completely fried, mostly because yunjin’s warning about "playing with fireworks" has been looping in your brain for the last twenty-four hours. kissing mechanics. the words alone make your pulse skyrocket.
when jay opens the door to room 314, he’s wearing a fitted black t-shirt and charcoal grey cargo pants. he looks you up and down, a faint, amused smile lingering on his lips. "come on in, newbie."
you step into the familiar, sandalwood-scented space and immediately drop your bag by his desk, hopping onto the edge of his bed. before he can even sit down in his usual chair, the words start spilling out of your mouth in an anxious rush.
"okay, so something happened," you blurts out, waving your hands around. "jake came up to me yesterday at the student union. he was wearing his soccer jersey and he literally leaned against my locker and told me my hair looked pretty."
jay pauses, capping his water bottle and looking at you with a raised eyebrow. "and? did you use the eye contact?"
"yes! i held his gaze for like, five whole seconds," you say proudly, leaning forward. "and then i tried to do the subtle, playful voice thing you taught me. i looked at his jersey and said, 'thanks, you don't look too bad yourself.' but jay, the second the words left my mouth, i panicked. i got so incredibly awkward. i think my shoulders went up to my ears, and i literally backed into the locker door so hard it made a loud clanging sound."
jay stares at you for a beat, and then he breaks. he covers his mouth with his hand, his shoulders shaking as a deep, breathless laugh escapes him. "you backed into a locker? newbie, please tell me you didn't."
"i did!" you groan, burying your face in his pillows. "it was terrible. but… the weird part is, it might not have ruined everything? he’s been texting me literally all day today. look."
you scramble to pull out your phone, unlocking it and flashing the screen at him. there’s a string of text messages from jake, filled with emojis and casual questions about your week.
jay steps closer, leaning down slightly to look at the screen. his eyes scan the notifications, and a low, thoughtful hum hums in his throat. he straightens back up, crossing his arms over his chest, his playful smirk turning into a highly analytical expression.
"okay, first of all, the text volume is good. he's definitely hooked," jay says, tilting his head. "but based on your little locker incident, i'm officially changing the syllabus for today."
you peek up from the pillow. "wait, what? aren't we doing kissing mechanics today?"
"absolutely not," jay says smoothly, a wicked, completely teasing grin spreading across his sharp features. "no offense, newbie, but if you're still crashing into structural steel because a guy complimented your hair, you are legally not ready for the kissing lesson. you'd probably faint on him."
"hey!" you protest, sitting straight up and kicking your legs out, though you can't help the blush spreading across your face. "i was just caught off guard!"
"exactly. which is why we need to build your confidence up through texts and pictures first," jay says, walking over to his closet and leaning his shoulder against the frame. "given how much he's texting you right now, it’s the perfect opportunity. so, lesson three: how to dress sexier, body language upkeep, and sending suggestive texts and photos."
your jaw drops. "photos? like… selfies?"
"relax, i don't mean nudes," jay scoffs playfully, rolling his eyes. "i mean the kind of photos that make a guy stare at his phone for ten minutes straight. subtle hints. showing off your collarbone, an arched back, a casual half-smile. the kind of stuff that says 'i'm not trying,' even though you absolutely are."
he walks over to your bag and picks it up, tossing it onto the bed next to you. "dump it out. let’s see what clothes you brought today, and then we're going to fix your text game."
for the next hour, jay takes his role entirely too seriously. he makes you stand up to practice your posture — forcing your shoulders down, teaching you how to subtly arch your back when you're sitting so your silhouette looks sharper, and showing you how to cross your legs to elongate your frame.
then comes the text interrogation. he sits right next to you on the bed, his shoulder pressing against yours, looking over your screen as you type.
"no, delete that exclamation point. it makes you sound too eager," jay commands, his thumb reaching over to tap your screen. "type this instead: 'busy right now, but i might have time for you later.' it creates mystery. it makes him want to compete for your attention."
"isn't that a little mean?" you ask, looking up at him.
"it's not mean, it's a hook," jay murmurs, his dark eyes fixed on yours from mere inches away. "trust me. watch how fast he replies."
you hit send. less than thirty seconds later, jake replies: 'what are you up to? let me know when you're free x'.
you stare at the screen in absolute shock. "oh my god. you're a wizard."
"i'm a guy. i know how our brains work," jay smirks, entirely pleased with himself. "now, let's seal the deal. we're sending a photo. stand up."
you get up, your heart doing a nervous dance as jay picks up your phone. he walks you over to the full-length mirror hanging on the back of his door, positioning you just right where the warm afternoon light hits your face.
"your sweater is too high. pull it slightly off one shoulder," jay instructs, his voice dropping into that focused, professional tone.
you hesitantly tug the knit fabric down, exposing your collarbone. jay steps behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror. he frowns slightly, stepping closer until his chest is almost pressed against your back. he reaches out, his warm, large hands gently gripping your waist to adjust your posture, tilting your hips just a fraction.
"don't look directly at the camera like a deer in headlights," jay murmurs near your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "look slightly down, tilt your chin up. think about something that makes you feel good."
your whole body feels like it's on fire from his touch. your reflection in the mirror shows your cheeks flushed a deep pink, your eyes dark and wide. jay raises your phone, snapping a few photos. he pulls away smoothly, scrolling through the gallery before handing the phone back to you.
you look at the screen and literally gasp. the photo doesn't even look like you. it looks incredibly soft, effortless, and undeniably sexy. your collarbone stands out, your lips are slightly parted, and the flush on your cheeks looks intentional.
"send him that one," jay says, leaning back against his desk and crossing his arms, watching your reaction with an intensely satisfied smirk. "and don't add a caption. just let him suffer."
you hit send, your hands shaking. almost instantly, the typing bubbles appear from jake's contact.
they bounce up and down, then disappear, then start up again. jake is clearly panicking on the other end, deleting and rewriting his response just like you had done nights ago.
jay steps closer, leaning over your shoulder to look down at the screen. his chest gently brushes your back, the warm, clean scent of his sandalwood cologne enveloping you completely. “look at that,” he murmurs, his voice a low, vibrating rumble right next to your ear. “he’s losing his mind. i told you.”
finally, the text comes through.
jake: oh wow. you look really pretty. where are you?
you automatically start typing a reply, your fingers flying across the keyboard. i’m just hanging out at a friend’s dorm.
“stop, stop, stop,” jay says, his hand suddenly coming down over yours to physically halt your thumbs. his palms are warm and broad, completely wrapping around your hands. a jolt of electricity zaps straight up your arms. he doesn't pull away immediately; instead, he slowly guides your hands down, forcing you to lower the phone. “what did i say about theater-kid energy? you’re giving away too much information, newbie. you’re killing the mystery.”
“but he asked where i am!” you protest, looking up at him over your shoulder. your faces are incredibly close, so close you can count the dark lashes framing his piercing eyes.
jay just smiles, that slow, devastatingly confident grin that makes him look entirely too in control. he reaches out and smoothly takes the phone right out of your fingers. “he doesn’t get to know where you are. he didn't earn that yet. right now, he’s sitting in his room staring at a photo of your bare shoulder. we need to lean into that.”
he taps the screen, typing out a message with one hand while keeping his eyes locked on yours. “if he asks where you are, you don’t give him a location. you give him a tease.”
he turns the phone around to show you what he wrote.
you: somewhere you’re not. 😉
your jaw drops. “jay! that is so forward! i can't say that!”
“you didn't say it, i did. now watch,” he says, tapping send before you can grab the device back.
you watch the screen in an agony of suspense. the response from jake is almost instantaneous this time.
jake: that’s not fair. maybe i want to be there.
your breath hitches. jake has never talked to you like this before. usually, his texts are sweet, casual, and safe. jay’s little formula is completely shifting the dynamic, turning a simple crush into a high-stakes game of cat and mouse.
“see?” jay says, his tone dripping with playful smugness as he slides the phone back into your hands. he leans his hip against the edge of his desk, crossing his arms and looking down at you. “he’s chasing now. when a guy says ‘maybe i want to be there,’ he’s testing the waters. he wants to see if the door is open. so, what do you do?”
“i… i tell him he can come over?” you guess, completely out of your depth.
jay groans, tossing his head back dramatically. “no! god, newbie, you’re trying to speed-run this. if you invite him over now, you’re giving up all your power. you have to make him work for it. keep him on his toes.”
he steps back into your personal space, the playful arrogance in his eyes shifting into something focused and instructional. he grabs your chin gently between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face up so you’re forced to look directly into his dark eyes.
“this is the suggestive texting masterclass,” jay explains softly, his thumb lightly brushing the sensitive skin of your jawline. “you always want to imply a double meaning. you want him to read your texts and wonder if you’re being totally innocent or incredibly dirty. it keeps his mind completely occupied with thoughts of you.”
he lets go of your chin, but the ghost of his touch leaves a burning trail on your skin. he points at your phone. “type this: ‘i don’t know, jake. i’m kind of a handful. not sure you could handle it.’”
your fingers are practically sweating as you type out the words exactly as he dictated. you hit send.
the typing bubbles appear immediately.
jake: try me. i’m pretty good at handling things.
you let out a soft, choked gasp, completely floored by the sheer boldness of jake's reply. your face is burning hot, your heart hammering against your ribs. you look up at jay, wide-eyed and completely breathless. “oh my god. it worked. it actually worked.”
jay doesn't look surprised at all. if anything, he’s studying your reaction with an intense, quiet curiosity. his eyes drop to your flushed cheeks, then down to your parted lips, before slowly rising back to meet your gaze. the playful, teasing smirk slowly fades from his face, replaced by a heavy, unreadable expression.
“of course it worked,” jay murmurs, his voice suddenly dropping into a low, gravelly register that vibrates straight through your chest. he steps a fraction closer, completely erasing the distance between you until your clothes are almost brushing. “you’re a beautiful girl, newbie. when you actually give a guy a green light, he’s going to run straight through it.”
the air in the dorm room becomes completely stagnant, thick with a sudden, suffocating wave of tension. jay is looking at you with an intensity that has absolutely nothing to do with jake sim. his gaze feels heavy, physical, like a hand tracing the curve of your neck. for a terrifying, thrilling second, you forget all about your phone, all about jake’s texts, and all about the rules of these lessons.
you stare up at him, your heart in your throat, completely paralyzed by how easily he can shift the gravity in the room.
jay holds your gaze for one more lingering, breathless second. then, just as quickly as it appeared, the heavy tension snaps. a lazy, familiar smirk creeps back onto his sharp features, and he steps back, breaking the spell.
“alright, lock your phone,” jay says, tapping the top of your head playfully. “that’s enough digital damage for today. leave him on read for a few hours. let him stew in his own thoughts while he waits for you to reply.”
you quickly lock your screen, nodding dumbly as you try to force your lungs to remember how to breathe normally.
“lesson three concluded,” jay says, walking over to the door and swinging it open, looking entirely unbothered by the emotional hurricane he just caused in your chest. he gives you a sharp, teasing wink. “next time, newbie… we’re finally doing kissing mechanics. don’t forget to practice your posture before then.”
-------
four days pass, and your life feels like it has been completely split into two entirely different realities.
on one side of the screen, there’s the jake sim reality. and to your absolute shock, jay’s blueprint is working flawlessly. jake has been pursuing you with a fervor that leaves you dizzy. when you see him on campus now, he doesn't just give you a sweet, friendly wave from across the quad. he actively detours to walk with you to class. when you talk, his eyes don't wander; they stay locked onto your face, and he looks at you with this intense, focused hunger that makes your stomach do backflips.
last night, he texted you out of nowhere at 11:00 p.m. just to say he saw a sweater in a store window that reminded him of the photo you sent, adding a little tongue-in-cheek comment about how he's still waiting to find out where "somewhere you're not" is.
it's everything you wanted. you're finally getting the boy you’ve been pining over since freshman orientation. you should be ecstatic. you should be texting yunjin in a flurry of capital letters and celebratory emojis.
but instead, you find yourself staring at your bedroom ceiling in the dead of night, feeling completely untethered.
the truth is a terrifying, heavy weight in your chest, and admitting it to yourself feels like standing on the edge of a cliff. because every time jake texts you, a tiny, dark voice in the back of your mind whispers that it isn’t actually your game he’s falling for. it’s jay’s. you’re just the actress reciting lines written by a boy who understands the mechanics of desire like the back of his hand.
and then there's the next lesson.
kissing mechanics.
your stomach drops into a cold abyss every time you think about it. you’re terrified. actual, physical kissing is a universe away from just holding eye contact or letting your shoulders brush during a laugh. it means jay’s hands on you. it means his face inches from yours, his lips touching yours, his sharp jawline, his heavy, low breathing. even if it’s entirely "theoretical" — even if he's just using his fingers to map out where to press or demonstrating the pacing on a pillow or explaining the biology of how a guy reacts — the mere thought of being that close to him makes your chest tighten until it hurts.
but beneath the suffocating layers of panic, there is an even darker, more humiliating truth that you barely have the courage to acknowledge in the privacy of your own head.
you were disappointed.
when you walked into room 314 a few days ago, fully braced for the kissing lesson, your heart had been pounding because you thought you were finally going to cross that terrifying physical threshold with him. and when jay had laughed, called you a newbie, and casually pushed the lesson back because you "weren't ready," a sudden, sharp pang of rejection had sliced right through you.
you had spent the rest of that afternoon acting annoyed and pouty, but deep down, your skin had been practically begging for the exact thing you claimed to be afraid of. you had wanted him to look at you and decide you were ready. you had wanted to know what his lips felt like, even if it was just a clinical demonstration.
it's a dangerous, toxic thought. jay is your tutor. he’s sunghoon’s best friend, a guy known for his selective, zero-strings-attached reputation, and he is actively helping you construct a trap to catch jake. confusing your feelings now would be absolute social suicide. it would ruin everything.
you roll onto your side, pulling your blanket tightly around your shoulders as you look at your phone. tomorrow afternoon is the day. there are no more text modules left to practice. no more posture corrections or wardrobe updates.
tomorrow, you have to look jay park in the eye and let him teach you how to kiss.
and as you close your eyes, trying to force yourself to sleep, you realize with a jolt of pure panic that you aren't sure which reality you're more afraid of anymore: the one where you finally kiss jake sim, or the one where you have to watch jay pull away from you when the lesson is over.
-------
the rain is drumming a steady rhythm against the glass of room 314 when you walk in. the afternoon light is weak, casting the dorm in a hazy, intimate shadow that immediately makes your throat feel dry. jay is sitting on the edge of his bed, his legs spread, hands loosely clasped between his knees. he’s wearing a soft, oversized gray crewneck sweater, looking entirely relaxed, while your nerves are stretched so tight they’re practically screaming.
“welcome back, newbie,” jay says, his voice softer than usual, matching the quiet hum of the rain. he tracks your movement as you set your bag down, his eyes lingering on your tense shoulders. “you look like you’re walking to the gallows.”
“i’m just… anticipating,” you mumble, sitting on the opposite end of the bed, pulling your knees to your chest.
jay watches you for a beat, a faint, understanding smile touching his lips. “right. lesson four. kissing mechanics.” he shifts, leaning back against his headboard, his expression turning professional, though his dark eyes retain that sharp, observant glint. “before we start, a reminder of the rules. we agreed on a strict blueprint. entirely theoretical. no physical interaction. i’m here to give you the breakdown so you can take it to jake. clear?”
“clear,” you say. you try to sound relieved. you try to make your voice bright and cooperative. but a small, involuntary drop in your tone betrays you, a tiny hesitation that doesn’t escape his notice. a sudden, heavy wave of disappointment washes through you, sharp and humiliating, and you hate yourself for feeling it. you should be grateful for the boundary, but your skin feels suddenly cold.
jay’s eyes narrow slightly, analyzing the split-second change in your expression, but he doesn't comment on it. instead, he clears his throat and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“alright. let’s break down the mechanics,” jay begins, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that always makes your pulse spike. “kissing isn’t just about the lips, newbie. if you just dive in, it’s clumsy. it starts with the pacing. when jake leans in, you don’t rush to meet him halfway. you let him do the work. you tilt your chin up, keep your lips slightly parted — just a fraction — and breathe out softly. it signals invitation.”
you nod, trying to memorize the words, but your brain is panicking because jay is demonstrating the head tilt himself, his sharp jawline defining itself in the dim amber light of his desk lamp.
“when the actual contact happens, you start slow,” jay continues, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that feels almost physical. “it’s a gentle pressure. one lip tucked between his. you hold it for a beat, let the warmth build, and then you shift. it’s a rhythm. you use your hands — remember lesson two? — you let your fingers rest right on the side of his neck, just below the jaw. your thumb rests on his cheekstone. it stabilizes the movement, and it drives a guy absolutely crazy because it feels grounding.”
as he speaks, jay mimics the hand placement in the air, his long, elegant fingers moving with a slow grace that makes you track them like a hawk. the air in the room is growing increasingly thick, the space between you on the mattress suddenly feeling incredibly small.
“now,” jay murmurs, his gaze dropping to your lips for a heavy, unhurried second before rising back to your eyes. “let’s practice the approach. the build-up of tension right before the lips touch is fifty percent of the kiss. if you panic there, the whole thing is ruined.”
he slides down the mattress, closing the distance between you until he’s sitting cross-legged directly in front of you. your knees are practically brushing.
“i’m going to act as if i’m going to kiss you,” jay instructs softly, his playful arrogance completely gone, replaced by a quiet, suffocating gravity. “i’m going to get close. your job is to hold eye contact, keep your breathing steady, and do not pull away. understand?”
“yes,” you whisper, your heart hammering so loudly against your ribs you’re certain he can hear it.
“look at me,” he commands gently.
you look up. jay leans in slowly.
the world outside the window completely ceases to exist. his movements are deliberate, agonizingly drawn out, giving your brain time to register every single detail. you see the dark depth of his eyes, the slight curve of his nose, the perfect, soft shape of his lips. he tilts his head to the side, a fraction of an inch, mapping out the angle perfectly.
closer. you can smell the rich, intoxicating scent of his sandalwood cologne mixed with the clean scent of his skin.
closer. his chest is almost touching yours, the warmth radiating off his body enveloping you in a heat wave. your breath catches in your throat, your lips parting automatically, exactly the way he taught you. your eyes flutter, desperately wanting to close, but you force them to stay open, locked onto his.
he stops.
his lips are barely half an inch from yours. you can feel the literal heat of his breath brushing against your skin, hovering right over your mouth. the tension in the microscopic space between you is a physical, electric current, pulling at you, begging you to lean forward just a millimeter to erase the agony of the distance. your heart is in your throat. you are completely paralyzed, drowning in the proximity of him.
jay stays perfectly still for three agonizing, breathless seconds, his gaze raking over your eyes, your nose, your trembling mouth. his jaw tightens, a sudden, fierce flash of hunger crossing his features before he forces it down.
slowly, deliberately, jay pulls back. the sudden rush of cool air between you feels like a physical shock. he sits straight up, clearing his throat, though his breathing is visibly shallower than it was five minutes ago.
“just like that,” jay says, his voice a little rough, a little strained. “you held the gaze. you didn't panic. do that with jake, and he’ll—”
the mention of jake’s name feels like a bucket of ice water, snapping something inside you. you look at jay — at his parted lips, his flushed neck, the sheer, unbothered control he’s trying to fake — and a sudden, reckless wave of desperation overrides every single rule, every single boundary, and every shred of your common sense.
and then something you would've never expected comes out of your mouth:
“jay, can you give me a practical example?”
the words hang in the air. jay freezes, his usual smirk vanishing. and for the first time since you walked into room 314, jay park looks completely caught off guard. his dark eyes widen just a fraction, his posture locking up as he stares at you in absolute silence. he stares at your face like he’s waiting for you to say you’re joking. the only sound in the room is the sound of the rain against the windowpane.
“what?” he asks, his voice a low, gravelly rasp. he tilts his head, blinking down at you like he’s entirely convinced his ears are playing tricks on him. “what did you just say, newbie?”
the sudden realization of what just tumbled out of your mouth hits you like a physical blow. your stomach plummets, and a fierce, blinding heat instantly erupts across your cheeks, burning all the way down to your neck. you instinctively try to pull your knees tighter to your chest, wanting nothing more than to shrink into a microscopic atom and disappear into the mattress.
“i… um,” you squeak out, your voice dropping to a mortified, breathless whisper. you look down at your hands, your fingers frantically twisting the fabric of your pajama pants. “i said… can you give me a practical example? like… a real one.”
jay doesn't move. he just stays cross-legged in front of you, absorbing your words. then, slowly, the shock on his face melts away. a brilliant, wicked, and entirely amused grin spreads across his sharp features. he lets out a low, rich chuckle that vibrates deep in his chest, leaning back slightly on his hands as he studies your purple face.
“wow,” jay murmurs, his tone dripping with pure, unadulterated amusement. “the quiet girl strikes again. you really are full of surprises, aren't you?”
“stop laughing at me!” you whine, hiding your face in your hands. your heart is beating so hard you can feel it in your teeth. “i’m being serious! i’m trying to be logical about this!”
“logical?” jay teases, his voice filled with a quiet, shaking laughter. he reaches out and gently, but firmly, tugs your wrists away from your face so you’re forced to look at him. he doesn't let go of your hands, keeping his fingers loosely looped around your wrists. “okay, professor. please, explain the logic to me. i’m dying to hear this.”
you swallow hard, your eyes darting everywhere but his lips. you try to summon every ounce of justification your panicked brain can manufacture.
“well… because!” you stammer, your voice incredibly shy, filled with an embarrassed pitch. “you said it yourself! you said kissing is all about the rhythm and the pacing. and— and you said if i panic during the approach, the whole thing is ruined! how am i supposed to know if i’m going to panic with jake if i haven't actually practiced the real thing? what if my timing is completely off? what if i accidentally bump teeth with him, jay? that would be traumatizing!”
jay listens to your anxious, stuttering speech, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners. he looks incredibly smug, entirely enjoying how completely flustered you are.
“so,” jay says slowly, a lazy, teasing purr in his voice as he lightly squeezes your wrists. “let me get this straight. purely for educational purposes… for my duties as your instructor… you think we should break the non-physical clause. for the sake of science.”
“yes!” you whisper-yell, your face burning hotter, if that was even physically possible. “it’s just… a hands-on lab! like chemistry class! it makes perfect sense!”
“chemistry, huh?” jay echoes, his voice dropping an octave, the vibrant laughter in his eyes shifting into something much darker, much more intense.
he slowly releases your wrists, but he doesn't move back. instead, he slides even closer on the mattress, completely invading your personal space until the heat radiating from his body wraps around you like a blanket. the playful, mocking expression of his face softens into something dangerous.
“you’re a terrible liar, newbie,” jay murmurs, his eyes dropping to your parted lips, staring at them for a long, unhurried second before rising back to yours. “you’re not thinking about jake sim’s teeth right now. and you’re definitely not thinking about science.”
your breath hitches completely, your voice trapped in your throat.
“but…” jay whispers, his hand slowly rising to cup the side of your face, his broad palm warm against your burning cheek, his thumb gently resting right on your cheekbone — exactly where he had just described a minute ago. “if you’re really that worried about failing your practical exam… i guess your teacher is just going to have to show you how it’s done.”
jay doesn't give you a chance to think, to backtrack, or to let the embarrassment completely swallow you whole.
his fingers anchor themselves gently behind your neck, his thumb still resting right on your cheekbone, stabilizing you exactly the way he had mapped out verbally just moments before. he leans in, but there is no hesitation this time. the agonizing half-inch of space between your lips vanishes in a split second.
when his lips first touch yours, a gasp catches in your throat, and jay uses that exact fraction of a second to deepen the pressure. his lips are incredibly soft but firm, moving against yours with a practiced, devastating slow rhythm. a full-body shiver ripples through you, your hands automatically reaching out to clutch at the fabric of his soft gray sweater just to keep yourself grounded.
“breathe, newbie,” jay whispers against your mouth, his voice a low, rough vibration that sends a jolt of pure electricity straight down your spine. “don't hold your breath. follow me, don't overthink it.”
he pulls back just a millimeter, letting the cool air hit your wet lips before tilting his head to a slightly different angle and sliding right back in. it's a gentle, heavy pressure. he tucks your lower lip between his, sucking on it so softly it makes a quiet, embarrassing sound echo in the quiet dorm room. you try to copy the movement, your lips parting a little more as you attempt to match his pace.
“there you go,” jay murmurs, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he praises you mid-kiss. his hand slides from your neck down to your shoulder, his broad palm squeezing gently through your clothes. “keep your hands right there. stay relaxed. you’re doing perfect.”
he leads you flawlessly, controlling the entire gravity of the moment. every time you feel like you're about to lose your mind from the sheer intensity of it, jay slows things down, lingering in a soft, pressing rhythm that lets you catch up. your eyes have completely fluttered shut now, the darkness making the sensation of his lips, his warm hands, and the intoxicating scent of his sandalwood cologne a thousand times more overwhelming. you lose all track of time, completely drowning in the heat of his mouth, forgetting about the rain outside, forgetting about the syllabus, forgetting about everything.
when jay finally draws back, he does it slowly, his lips brushing against yours one last time before he fully breaks the contact.
the sudden loss of warmth leaves you feeling completely dazed. you slowly blink your eyes open, your chest heaving as you try to force air back into your lungs. jay is still hovering inches away from your face. his dark hair is slightly messy, his own breathing is visibly shallower, and his usually perfectly composed lips are a dark, flushed red. he’s staring down at you with a heavy, unreadable gaze that is entirely devoid of his usual playful arrogance.
for three long seconds, neither of you says a word.
then, reality comes crashing back down on you with the force of a tidal wave.
oh my god. you just kissed jay park. you practically begged him to do it. you used a fake excuse about "science" and "chemistry class" just to get him to put his hands on you.
a massive, blinding wave of mortification slaps you across the face. your cheeks explode into a furious, bright purple flush. you instantly let go of his sweater as if it had turned into white-hot iron, scrambling backward on the mattress until your back hits his headboard. you pull your knees all the way to your chest, burying your face completely in your arms, a small, choked groan escaping your throat.
“hey,” jay’s smooth voice breaks the silence, a soft, familiar chuckle bubbling up in his chest. you hear the mattress shift as he slides closer to you. “what are you hiding for? you’re the one who demanded a practical exam, professor.”
“please don’t look at me,” you whine into your knees, your voice incredibly muffled and strained with pure embarrassment. “i am going to jump out of that window. i am actually going to die right here on your bed.”
“don’t die yet, we still have to grade you,” jay teases, his tone dropping into that lazy, effortless purr. you feel his long fingers gently tap the top of your head. “come on, look up. i promise i won’t tease you too bad.”
you slowly, hesitantly lift your chin just enough to peek at him through the gap in your arms. jay is sitting right there, leaning his elbow on his knee with his chin resting in his palm, watching you with an incredibly amused, knowing grin.
“so,” jay murmurs, his dark eyes locking onto your wide, panicked ones. “how was the lesson? did it help clarify the mechanics for you?”
“i… yes,” you squeak out, your face still burning hot.
you pull your arms tighter around your legs, your heart still hammering a rushed rhythm against your ribs. you are completely, thoroughly embarrassed — more humiliated than you have ever been in your entire life. but beneath the suffocating layers of shyness, as you look at jay's slightly curved lips, you feel a terrifyingly honest truth settling deep in your chest.
you liked it. you liked it a lot. in fact, you liked it so much that the mere thought of taking these newly learned "mechanics" and using them on jake sim suddenly felt entirely, completely impossible.
-------
you keep your mouth shut. you don’t tell yunjin. in fact, you don’t tell a single living soul.
when you get back to your shared apartment that evening, yunjin is sitting on the kitchen counter eating dry cereal straight from the box, her eyes instantly narrowing into little laser beams the second the front door clicks shut. you quickly mutter something about having a massive headache from the library lights, sprint into your bedroom, and lock the door behind you. if you open your mouth, even just to breathe, you’re terrified the taste of jay’s strawberry-and-mint lip balm will somehow manifest in the air and give you away.
you spend the next two days in a state of absolute, localized hysteria.
the embarrassment is a physical weight, pressing down on your chest until you feel lightheaded. you can't stop replaying the feeling of his broad palm cradling your jaw, the specific, gravelly pitch of his voice when he whispered “breathe, newbie,” and the agonizingly soft, rhythmic pull of his lips against yours. you had loved it. you had loved it so much that just thinking about it while sitting in a Tuesday morning lecture makes your stomach do a violent, hot flip.
and that’s not even the worst part. the worst part — the thing that is currently keeping you awake at 3:00 a.m. staring at your ceiling fan — is how the lesson had actually ended.
right before you had practically bolted out of his dorm room, your face still a catastrophic shade of purple, jay had stood by the door with his hands shoved casually into his cargo pants. he had looked down at you, that slow, devastatingly handsome smirk firmly back in place, and murmured: “since you passed your practical exam with such high marks, newbie… i’ll let you call the shots for lesson five. it can be anything you want. think about it.”
anything you want.
how are you supposed to walk back into room 314 on thursday afternoon, look jay park in his incredibly symmetrical, aristocratic face, and say: 'oh, yeah, hi, remember how i said i wanted to learn for science? well, the science was great, can we please just make out for another hour?'
you can’t. you literally cannot do that. it would destroy the flimsy, pathetic shield of "educational purposes" you’ve been hiding behind. it would mean admitting that you aren't a student trying to impress jake sim anymore; it would mean admitting that jay has completely, effortlessly rewired your brain in the span of three weeks.
speaking of jake, his reality is becoming increasingly harder to navigate. he texts you a picture of a coffee cup on Wednesday morning: 'at the café near the library. wish you were somewhere i am today.'
you stare at the screen, your thumb hovering over the keyboard. a week ago, a text like that would have made you scream into your pillow. it’s exactly what you wanted. it’s a direct reference to the tease jay helped you send him. but now, looking at the letters, all you can think about is jay’s chest pressed against your back, his warm hands adjusting your waist in front of the mirror, and his low voice telling you to let him suffer.
when you reply with a simple, sweet 'awkward timing, i'm stuck in a study group! next time x', it feels like you’re writing a script for a play you’ve completely lost interest in starring in.
by thursday afternoon, your anxiety has reached a fever pitch. you change your sweater twice, eventually settling on a high-necked, oversized crewneck that offers absolutely zero skin-to-air vulnerability. you walk up the stairs of the west quad like a prisoner marching to the electric chair, your knees feeling strangely hollow.
when you reach room 314, you stand outside the heavy wooden door for a full sixty seconds, your hand raised to knock, your heart hammering a rushed rhythm against your ribs.
just be normal, you tell yourself, closing your eyes tightly. ask him to practice advanced flirting. ask him to break down how to read body language across a crowded room. do not look at his mouth. do not think about his hands.
you take one final, deep breath, brace your shoulders, and knock.
the door swings open, and jay is standing there looking entirely too comfortable in a soft cream-colored knit sweater and dark trousers. his eyes immediately lock onto yours, his gaze dropping to your high-necked crewneck before rising back to your face with a slow, knowing amusement.
“well, look who it is,” jay says, stepping back to let you into the room. the door closes behind you with a quiet, solid click that feels incredibly final. “come on in, newbie. i was starting to think you’d skipped town.”
“i wouldn’t skip town,” you mumble, keeping your eyes trained firmly on his desk as you walk past him. you sit on the very edge of his bed, your posture rigid and stiff, your hands tightly clasped in your lap.
jay doesn't sit in his desk chair this time. instead, he walks over and leans his hip against the edge of the mattress, just a couple of feet away from you. he crosses his arms, tilting his head as his sharp, observant eyes trace the tense line of your shoulders, the frantic way your fingers are twitching, and the obvious blush already coloring your cheeks.
“alright,” jay murmurs, his voice low and conversational. “lesson five. you’re calling the shots today. what’s on the agenda, professor? more chemistry labs, or are we pivoting?”
you clear your throat aggressively, trying to sound as clinical and professional as possible. “i think… i think we should practice advanced flirting. like, body language across a crowded room, or how to subtly command attention in a group conversation. i think that’s a really logical next step for jake.”
jay doesn't say anything for a long, agonizing beat. he just stands there, watching you stumble over your words. then, a slow, dangerous smile spreads across his lips, his eyes glinting with pure, unadulterated mischief. he knows you're lying. he can see right through your pathetic little shield, and he is clearly planning on playing dirty.
“advanced flirting in a crowd,” jay repeats smoothly, nodding his head as if he’s taking you completely seriously. “okay. sure. let’s practice that. but you know, advanced flirting isn’t just about looking across a room, newbie. it’s about what you do when you finally get close to someone in a crowded, loud space. when the music is too loud and you have to make them listen to only you.”
before you can even process his words, jay moves.
he slides onto the bed, shifting his weight until he is sitting directly beside you. his thigh presses flush against yours, the heavy, intoxicating warmth of his body immediately enveloping you. your breath hitches, your entire body going completely rigid as you stare straight ahead, terrified to look at him.
“let’s set the scene,” jay whispers, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that vibrates straight through the mattress. he leans in closer, his chest brushing against your arm. “we’re at a busy bar. the music is throwing heavy bass. jake is standing right next to you, but there are people everywhere, pushing into your space. if you just talk normally, he won't hear you. you have to close the distance.”
he leans over, his face entering your peripheral vision. you bite your lip, staring straight ahead at his closet door, your heart hammering so violently against your ribs it feels painful.
then, jay eliminates the space entirely.
he leans over your shoulder, his chest pressing firmly against your back. he tilts his head, burying his face right in the crook of your neck, just an inch away from your sensitive skin. his hot, heavy breath fans out across your jawline and the side of your neck, sending a violent, electric shiver straight down your spine. you let out a soft, helpless gasp, your fingers tightly gripping the fabric of your own sweater.
“if you want him to notice you,” jay murmurs, his lips brushing against the tiny hairs on your neck as he speaks, his voice a devastatingly hot, quiet rumble right against your ear, “you don’t shout over the noise. you lean in. right here. where it’s quiet.”
you can feel the warmth of his lips moving, the heat of his skin radiating into yours. the air in the room is completely gone, replaced by the suffocating, heavy scent of his sandalwood cologne. your mind is a chaotic, blurred mess; you can’t think about jake, you can’t think about advanced flirting, you can’t think about anything other than the agonizing friction of jay’s body pressed against yours.
“and then,” jay continues softly, his hand slowly rising to rest on the curve of your waist, his large palm squeezing gently through your thick sweater, anchoring you to him, “you tell him something confidential. something that makes him forget the entire room exists.”
he lingers there for an agonizing, breathless three seconds, his breath hot against your ear, letting the agonizing tension build until you’re practically trembling under his touch. you’re completely paralyzed, your lips parted, waiting, secretly begging for him to just turn your face and kiss you again.
instead, jay slowly draws his head back just a fraction. he doesn't move his body away, keeping his chest pressed to your back and his hand firmly on your waist, but he tilts his head so he can look at the side of your face. his eyes are dark, intense.
“but we aren't at a crowded bar, newbie,” jay whispers, his voice dropping even lower, turning into something raw and fiercely honest. his thumb rubs a slow circle into your waist. “it’s just you and me in a quiet room. and your shoulders are up to your ears because you’re lying to me.”
you swallow hard, a shaky breath escaping your lips.
jay leans in just a millimeter closer, his lips almost brushing your earlobe. “so stop playing games with me. look at me and tell me what you really want to do for lesson five.”
you swallow hard, the feel of his thumb rubbing slow, deliberate circles through the fabric of your sweater making it completely impossible to form a coherent thought. your gaze is frozen on the wrinkled blankets of his bed, your pulse hammering a rapid rhythm in your ears. jay doesn't move. he stays right there, his chest warm against your back, his breath a steady, intoxicating heat against the side of your neck, patiently waiting you out.
"i'm waiting, newbie," he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing purr that completely undoes the last shred of your resolve.
"i... i want to practice kissing again," you blurts out, the words rushing out of you in a desperate, breathless squeak.
the hand on your waist pauses for a fraction of a second. jay doesn't immediately pull back, but you can feel the slight shift in his posture, the way his jaw tightens against your hair. you quickly scramble to cover your track, the sheer embarrassment forcing your brain into overdrive as you try to construct a pathetic safety net of logic.
"because— because of the mechanics!" you stammer quickly, your voice dropping to a mortified whisper as you twist your fingers together. "the last time... i was entirely caught off guard, jay. and i felt like i was completely awful at it. i didn't know where to put my hands, and my timing was definitely off, and... and if i'm going to be ready for jake, i need to actually make sure i can do the rhythm properly without freezing up. it’s just for the lesson. for practice."
the silence that follows is thick enough to cut with a knife. for three agonizing seconds, you’re entirely convinced you’ve gone too far, that he’s going to laugh at your transparent excuse and tell you the lesson is over.
then, slowly, jay draws back.
you force yourself to turn your head, your cheeks burning a bright, furious pink as you look at him. jay is studying your face, his dark eyes incredibly heavy and focused. the playful, arrogant smirk you expected isn't there; instead, his lips are parted slightly, his gaze dropping to your mouth before rising back to meet your eyes with an intensity that makes your breath catch.
"for practice," he echoes, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that vibrates straight to your core.
"yes," you whisper.
"alright," jay murmurs, his tone shifting into something thick and serious. he slides closer, crossing his legs so he’s sitting directly in front of you, completely erasing the distance. "if we’re going to fix your rhythm, we need to do it right. look at me."
you lift your chin, your eyes locking onto his. jay doesn't hesitate this time. his large, warm hand rises, his long fingers sliding effortlessly into the hair at the back of your neck, his thumb anchoring right on your jawline to tilt your face up. he leans in, and before your brain can even register the proximity, his lips are pressing firmly against yours.
the contact is an immediate shock of heat. unlike the brief practical exam from days ago, jay doesn't start with a gentle question. he slides his lips over yours with a slow, heavy confidence, guiding your mouth to open slightly with a soft, persistent pressure.
"put your hands on my shoulders," jay whispers directly against your mouth, his breath hot and ragged as he pulls back just a millimeter to give the instruction. "don't just let them hang there. hold onto me."
your hands shake as you lift them, your fingers clutching tightly at the soft cream fabric of his knit sweater. the moment your palms make contact with his broad shoulders, jay lets out a low, approving hum deep in his throat. he tilts his head to the opposite angle, his lips sealing over yours again, deepening the kiss with a slow, agonizingly deliberate pace.
he teaches you through the movement itself. when your movements get too rushed or frantic from the sheer panic of how good it feels, jay uses the firm grip on the back of your neck to slow you down, lingering in a heavy, pressing rhythm that forces you to match his breath. his tongue lightly brushes against your bottom lip, a subtle, electrifying hint that makes a quiet, helpless sound escape your throat. jay catches the sound, his thumb stroking the sensitive skin of your jawline, pulling you closer until your chest is completely pressed against his.
the "practice kiss" begins to stretch, the boundaries of the lesson blurring until the air in the dorm room feels thick and heavy with a sudden, suffocating wave of genuine friction. it isn't just a clinical demonstration anymore. his lips are moving against yours with a raw, unhurried hunger, his breathing turning shallow and rough against your cheek. your fingers tangle deeper into the knit of his sweater, your body leaning entirely into his warmth, completely lost in the intoxicating taste of him. it’s a full-on makeout, a lingering, breathless collision that has absolutely nothing to do with jake sim.
suddenly, as if realizing exactly how far the line has been crossed, jay stiffens.
he pulls away, his hand sliding out of your hair as he abruptly breaks the contact.
the sudden loss of his warmth leaves you gasping for air, your lips tingling and flushed a deep red. you scramble back a few inches, your heart thumping violently against your ribs as reality comes crashing down on you like ice water.
the silence in the room is deafening, save for the sound of your ragged breathing. jay is sitting right in front of you, his dark hair completely messy from your fingers, his chest heaving under his sweater. he looks completely ungrounded, his eyes staring down at his own hands for a long, heavy beat before he finally forces himself to look up at you.
the atmosphere is thick with a sharp, suffocating awkwardness. both of you are completely aware that that wasn't on the syllabus.
jay clears his throat, his hand rising to rub the back of his neck as he shifts slightly on the mattress, trying desperately to summon his usual composed, unbothered demeanor.
“that was… good,” jay says, his voice rough, strained, and completely lacking its usual playful smugness. he avoids looking directly at your lips, his dark eyes focusing on your forehead instead as he slides off the bed and stands up. “your timing is… it’s fine. we’ll work on it.”
the minute those words leave jay’s mouth, the spell breaks entirely. you don't even wait for him to officially dismiss you. you practically scramble off the edge of his bed, your sneakers skidding slightly on the hardwood floor of his dorm as you snatch your tote bag from his desk chair with trembling hands.
“i— i have to go,” you stammer, your voice a high, frantic squeak that you barely recognize. you can't even look him in the eye; your gaze is glued to the door handle as you sprint toward it. “i have… a study group. and a paper. thank you for the lesson!”
you yank the door open and fling yourself out into the hallway, slamming it shut behind you before jay can even utter a response.
the walk — or rather, the hyperventilating run — back to your apartment is a blur of pure, unadulterated panic. your chest feels incredibly tight, your lungs burning as the cool evening air hits your face, but it does absolutely nothing to cool the raging fire still burning on your lips. your lips are tingling, slightly swollen, and heavy with the undeniable taste of him.
it’s for jake, you tell yourself, your fingers gripping the straps of your tote bag so tightly your knuckles turn a stark, ghostly white. it’s entirely for jake.
you turn the corner past the campus library, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you mentally repeat the words like a sacred mantra. the only reason i asked him to do that is because jake is going to kiss me soon. yunjin said jay is the best teacher. i just needed hands-on experience so i don’t humiliate myself when jake finally makes a move. it’s an educational baseline. that’s all it is.
but the anxious pacing of your thoughts only gets faster, louder, and more desperate.
if i didn't practice with jay, i would have frozen up with jake. jay was just correcting my rhythm. he said my timing was fine. so now, when jake kisses me, it’s going to be perfect. i’m doing this to save my future with jake. jay is just an instrument. a tutor. a textbook.
you push open the heavy glass door to your apartment building, practically taking the stairs two at a time because the elevator feels too slow, too claustrophobic for the storm currently raging inside your head.
it doesn't matter that my heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. it doesn't matter that i forgot how to breathe. it doesn't matter that i wanted him to keep going. you reach your front door, fumbling blindly with your keys, your hands shaking so violently that the metal clicks loudly against the lock. it’s for jake. it’s all for jake sim. it has to be.
you unlock the door and burst inside, instantly slamming it behind you and leaning your back against the wood, letting out a long, shaky exhale. the apartment is dark and quiet — yunjin isn't home yet — which is a blessing, because if she took one look at your wild eyes and bitten lips, she would know instantly that you didn't just practice advanced flirting.
you drop your bag on the floor and walk straight into the bathroom, flicking on the harsh overhead light. you lean over the sink and stare at your reflection in the mirror.
your cheeks are still flushed a deep, telltale crimson. your hair is slightly unruly where jay's fingers had tangled into it, and your lips are undeniably darker, stung red from the heavy, lingering pressure of his mouth. you look completely undone. you look like a girl who just got thoroughly made out with by jay park.
your phone suddenly buzzes in your pocket, the sharp vibration making you jump.
with a racing heart, you pull it out. a notification blocks the screen.
jake: hey! just finished soccer practice. totally random, but are you free to grab dinner tomorrow night? just the two of us? 😊
you stare at the glowing text, the emojis, the sweet, easy invitation from the boy you’ve been dreaming about for months. it’s the exact moment you’ve been working toward. the ultimate goal. the reason you embarrassed yourself, the reason you sent the photos, the reason you walked into room 314 in the first place.
you lift your eyes back to your reflection in the mirror, your thumb hovering over the screen to type out a reply.
see? you think, your mind screaming at you to believe the lie as a cold sweat breaks out across your palms. it worked. the lessons worked. everything i did today… it was all just so i could be ready for tomorrow night. with jake.
but as you finally press your thumb to the glass to type 'i'd love to', your eyes automatically drift down to your own lips, and the phantom sensation of jay's heavy, rough breathing against your skin returns with a fierce, suffocating intensity that leaves you completely breathless.
-------
the afternoon sun is hitting the windows of room 314 when you walk in, casting long, warm bars of light across the hardwood floor. it’s a sharp contrast to the stormy darkness of your last lesson, but the familiar scent of sandalwood and clean laundry still hits you the second the door opens.
jay is sitting at his desk, casually typing something on his laptop, but he looks up the moment you step inside. his dark eyes immediately track your movement as you set your tote bag down by the door. he looks entirely composed, the previous lesson's awkwardness seemingly evaporated from his demeanor, replaced by his usual calm, lazy aura.
“welcome back, newbie,” jay says smoothly, closing his laptop with a quiet click. he stands up, stretching his arms slightly before walking over to his mini-fridge. “how was the big date?”
you sit down on the edge of his mattress, pulling your knees up to your chest and wrapping your arms around them. just the mention of yesterday makes a strange swirl of emotions tighten in your stomach.
“it was… really nice,” you say softly, staring down at the pattern of his blanket. “jake was amazing. he took me to that little Italian place downtown, the one with the string lights. he paid for everything, even when i tried to argue with him. and he was just so sweet, jay. he listened to me talk about my classes, he laughed at my jokes, and he walked me all the way back to my apartment building.”
jay leans against the edge of his desk, taking a sip of water, his eyes locked onto your face. “sounds like a textbook perfect date. so why do you look like someone just kicked your puppy?”
you swallow the lump in your throat, your voice dropping to a shy, embarrassed whisper. “because… he didn't kiss me.”
jay pauses, his water bottle halfway down from his lips. a sudden, sharp curiosity flashes in his eyes. “he didn't?”
“no,” you groan, burying your face in your knees for a second before looking back up at him, completely miserable. “we stood on the porch of my building for like three whole minutes. i did the eye contact. i did the posture thing you taught me. i held his gaze, my lips were parted, i did everything right! but he just… he smiled, ruffled my hair, told me he had an amazing time, and said goodnight. i don’t get it. did i do something wrong? did he see right through me?”
jay stares at you for a beat, and then, a slow, incredibly wicked smirk begins to crawl onto his face. the intense seriousness from the end of your last lesson is gone, replaced by a wave of pure, triumphant amusement. he sets his water bottle down on the desk and steps closer to the bed.
“newbie, you didn't do anything wrong,” jay says, his voice a low, deeply satisfied rumble. “you’re just dealing with jake sim. the guy is a traditionalist. he’s old-school. he’s not going to lunges at a girl on the very first dinner date, especially not a girl he actually respects and likes as much as he clearly likes you.”
he hitches his usual desk chair over, spinning it around to sit directly in front of you, his knees inches from yours. “honestly? this is perfect for us. it means we’re officially two steps ahead of him.”
you blink, confused. “two steps ahead? what do you mean?”
“i mean,” jay says, leaning forward, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a suffocating amount of focus, “by the time he finally gets the nerve to make a real move on you, you’re not just going to know how to handle a basic kiss. you’re going to be a master. which brings us to today's actual syllabus.”
he rests his elbows on his knees, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register that instantly sets your pulse racing. “today, we’re moving past the initial contact. we’re talking about a full-on makeout. the pacing, the breathing, how to build the physical escalation without getting overwhelmed. how to take control of the rhythm so he’s the one losing his mind, not you.”
your breath hitches completely. the memory of how your last "practice kiss" had spiraled into a lingering, breathless fog flashes through your brain, making your lips tingle instantly.
jay studies the sudden, bright pink flush spreading across your cheeks. his smile softens just a fraction, a quiet, intense gravity taking over his features. he leans in a microscopic inch closer, his eyes dropping to your mouth before rising back to yours.
“so,” jay murmurs, his voice a heavy, dangerous purr. “do you want today's lesson to be purely theoretical… or do you want a practical example, newbie?”
your heart is thumping so hard against your ribs you’re certain he can hear it. you know you should say theoretical. you know you should protect your sanity, preserve the lie that this is all just an educational game for jake. but as you look at jay — at his sharp jawline, his messy dark hair, his perfect, parted lips — the desperation from days ago takes over completely.
you don’t say a word. you just look him straight in the eye and nod your head, a tiny, submissive gesture.
“good girl,” jay whispers, the words vibrating straight down your spine.
he doesn't waste a single second. jay slides out of the chair and onto the mattress, crossing his legs right in front of you. his large, warm hand rises instantly, his long fingers sliding effortlessly into the hair at the back of your neck, his thumb anchoring firmly against your jawline to tilt your face up.
“remember the pacing,” jay murmurs right before his lips touch yours. “let me lead first.”
the instant his mouth seals over yours, the entire world outside room 314 completely vanishes. his lips are incredibly soft but heavy with a firm, demanding pressure that immediately makes a soft, helpless sigh escape your throat. jay catches the sound, his thumb gently stroking the sensitive skin of your jaw, guiding your mouth to open just a fraction more.
“breathe through your nose, newbie,” he whispers against your lips, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he shifts the angle of his head, deepening the kiss with a slow, agonizingly deliberate rhythm. “don’t rush it. follow my pace.”
you lift your hands, your fingers shaking as you clutch tightly at the soft fabric of his knit sweater, pulling yourself closer until your chest is flush against his. jay lets out a low, rough hum of approval deep in his throat at the touch, his grip on the back of your neck tightening just enough to anchor you completely.
the kiss quickly deepens, the boundaries of a simple "lesson" shattering instantly into a heavy, intoxicating fog. jay shows you how to escalate the tension; his lips move against yours with a raw, unhurried hunger, his tongue lightly tracing your bottom lip before pulling it between his teeth in a soft, agonizing tug that leaves you completely breathless.
“when the energy shifts,” jay murmurs, his voice raspy as he briefly parts from your lips to trace a line of burning kisses along your jawline, his lips hovering right over the sensitive skin beneath your ear, “you use your hands to change the dynamic. don’t just hold my sweater. slide your hands up. touch his neck.”
as if under a spell, you follow his whispered instructions. you let your hands slide up his broad chest, your fingers wrapping around the warm skin of his neck, your thumbs resting just below his sharp jawline. the physical contact makes jay let out a sharp, ragged exhale against your skin.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, his dark eyes clouded with a fierce, heavy intensity that has absolutely nothing to do with jake sim. his chest is heaving under his sweater, his lips dark and swollen.
“just like that,” jay whispers, his large hand sliding down from your neck to firmly grip your waist, pulling your hips a fraction closer to his on the mattress. “you control the distance. if he gets too frantic, you hold him right there. if you want more… you pull him back in.”
he doesn't wait for you to pull him. jay leans back down, his mouth crashing back onto yours with a sudden, overwhelming wave of passion that makes your head spin. it’s a full-on, breathless makeout, his lips parting yours completely, his thumb rubbing a slow, heavy circle into your waist through your shirt. you lose all track of time, completely drowning in the intoxicating taste of him, your fingers tangling into his dark hair as you match his pace, completely forgetting who this lesson was supposed to be for.
when jay finally draws back, it is agonizingly slow, his lips lingering against yours in three short, pressing kisses before he completely breaks the contact.
the sudden loss of his warmth leaves you shivering, your chest heaving as you desperately try to force air back into your lungs. jay stays hovering inches away, his forehead resting lightly against yours for a brief, breathless second before he slowly straightens up. his breathing is completely ungrounded, his eyes dark as he stares down at your thoroughly kissed, flushed face.
the silence in the room is suffocating, heavy with the weight of what just happened.
jay clears his throat, his hand rising to rub the back of his neck as he shifts back on the mattress, trying to force his usual lazy, unbothered smirk back onto his face — though his trembling fingers completely give him away.
“that was… the baseline,” jay says, his voice rough, strained, and entirely devoid of his usual arrogance. he looks away from your lips, his gaze tracking a stray shadow on the wall instead. “we’ll… we’ll stop there for today. your pacing is fine, newbie. jake won’t know what hit him.”
he stands up quickly, walking over to the door to open it for you, but as you scramble off the bed with a racing heart, you realize with a sudden wave of absolute panic that you don't care about jake sim's reaction at all anymore.
-------
you would be lying to yourself if you had said you hadn't been eager for more after that. you were. in fact, you started meeting jay almost every day so you could "practice" making out.
it became an unspoken, addictive routine. you didn't even wait for a scheduled thursday afternoon anymore. a quick, vague text from jay — ‘my room’s free if you want to study’ — and you would find yourself walking toward room 314 with your heart already doing double-flips inside your chest. you didn't even bring your notebooks anymore. what was the point of pretending?
with every single day that passed, the lessons started escalating little by little, the boundaries of "basic mechanics" crumbling into dust.
one afternoon, the air in his dorm room felt so suffocatingly hot that your hands grew bold. jay was guiding you through a deeper rhythm, his lips heavy and possessive against yours, when your fingers strayed from the hem of his sweater and slid up, slipping underneath the fabric. your bare palms pressed flat against the warm, solid skin of his lower back. you remember the exact way his entire body had rigidified for a split second, a low, ragged growl catching in his throat before he completely lost his composure, his lips turning frantic against yours.
another day, the lesson wasn't about the mouth at all. jay had backed you up against his closed closet door, his large hands anchoring your wrists gently against the wood above your head. “advanced escalation,” he had whispered against your skin, his voice a dangerous, gravelly rasp right before he buried his face in your neck. he had kissed his way down your jawline, his lips warm and demanding as he sucked softly on the sensitive skin right above your collarbone, leaving a faint, stinging heat that made your knees turn to literal water.
but the most shocking shift — the one that still makes your face burn a furious purple when you think about it during lectures — happened just two days ago.
jay had been sitting in the middle of his unmade bed, watching you pace around his room as you anxiously rambled on about your nerves. without a word, he had reached out, grabbed your wrist, and pulled you down. before your brain could even process the movement, jay's hands were on your waist, lifting you up and guiding you until you were completely straddling his lap, your knees resting on either side of his thighs.
your whole body had gone into a state of absolute shock, your face inches from his. but jay hadn't teased you. he had just looked up at you with those dark, fiercely intense eyes, his thumbs rubbing slow, heavy circles into your hips. “this is how you handle the proximity,” he had murmured. and then he had pulled you down by your neck.
you had kissed for a whole hour. a full, breathless, uninterrupted sixty minutes where your hands were tangled in his hair, his broad chest was crushed against yours, and his mouth was relentlessly teaching you a rhythm that made your entire soul ache. your body had fit perfectly against his, the heat between you completely consuming the small room. and you had enjoyed every single, agonizing second of it.
still, despite the bare skin, the bruised lips, and the sheer intimacy of sitting on his lap, you kept trying to convince yourself it was all because of jake.
every night, when you lay awake in your own bed staring at the ceiling, you forced yourself to repeat the old script. it’s not because of jay. jay park has absolutely nothing to do with it. he’s just an instructor. he’s just incredibly good at what he does because he’s experienced, and i am just a good student taking advantage of a resource.
you told yourself that the violent butterflies in your stomach, the way your hands shook whenever you touched his skin, and the desperate hunger you felt every time he leaned in were all just a biological reaction. you were just enjoying the physical sensation of making out because, in the back of your mind, you were projecting. you were simply thinking about doing all of these things with jake sim. jay was just the proxy, the placeholder, the mannequin you were using to perfect your technique so that when the time finally came, you would drive jake absolutely crazy.
or at least… that’s what you said to yourself.
-------
you keep your mouth shut, maintaining the absolute lockdown on your secret. whenever yunjin asks how the lessons are going, you look her straight in the eye and lie through your teeth, insisting it’s all strictly theoretical. you tell her jay is just drawing diagrams and explaining body language, all while your lips are still practically stinging from being thoroughly devoured by him just an hour prior.
in the meantime, you keep hanging out with jake. he takes you to get ice cream, he walks you to class, and he remains the perfect, sweet gentleman. but whenever he holds your hand or leans in to give you a polite, fleeting peck on the cheek, a bizarre, hollow sensation settles in your chest. you keep expecting the earth to move, expecting to feel that white-hot, electric current that roars through your veins every time you walk into room 314. but it never comes. you’re just building up to it, you tell yourself desperately. the real spark will happen later. jay is just priming you.
and then comes today's lesson.
the afternoon sun is completely blocked out by the heavy curtains jay drew across his window, plunging the dorm room into a dark, suffocatingly intimate haze. you’re sitting directly on his lap, your legs straddling his thighs. the friction between your bodies is a living, breathing thing. you've grown bold over the past week; your hands are slipped entirely beneath his oversized tee, your palms pressed flat against the hot, defined muscles of his chest. your hips shift instinctively, a slow, heavy grind against his lap as you chase the friction, your mouth moving against his in a deep, wet rhythm that leaves you both completely breathledd.
jay lets out a sharp, ragged groan directly into your mouth. his hands, which had been anchoring your hips, suddenly tighten with a bruising force. he abruptly pulls his head back, his breathing incredibly shallow and heavy as he forces you to stop moving.
his dark hair is completely unruly, his lips a dark, swollen crimson. he looks up at you, his eyes clouded with a raw, fierce hunger that makes your stomach do a violent flip.
“jesus, newbie,” jay rasps, his chest heaving under his shirt as his hands steady your trembling waist. he takes a long, ragged breath, his voice dropping into an incredibly low, gravelly register. “hold on. stop moving for a second.”
you blink down at him, dazed, your heart hammering against your ribs. “what? did i… did i do it wrong?”
jay lets out a low, breathless chuckle, though his jaw remains incredibly tight. “no. you didn't do it wrong. that’s the problem. the way you move…” he pauses, his intense gaze raking over your flushed face, tracking the absolute innocence in your wide eyes. a sudden, heavy curiosity settles over his features. “have you actually ever done anything sexual before this? like, at all?”
the question hits you like a bucket of ice water. a fierce, blinding wave of mortification instantly erupts across your cheeks. you instinctively try to shift off his lap, but his grip on your waist tightens, keeping you anchored right there against his heat.
“no,” you squeak out, your voice dropping to an incredibly shy, embarrassed whisper. you look down at his collarbone, unable to hold his gaze. “i haven't. i’ve never… i’ve never done anything. i told you, i'm a total newbie.”
jay stares at you, a complex flash of emotion crossing his face — surprise, a sudden wave of protectiveness, and a trace of possessiveness that he quickly tries to mask. he clears his throat, his thumb rubbing a slow, grounding circle into your hip.
“right,” jay murmurs, his voice softening just a fraction. “okay. well. you’re doing great for a beginner.”
you swallow hard, the frantic script in your head screaming at you to take control, to justify why you're enjoying this so much, why you’re pushing the boundaries. you look at his perfectly parted lips, then back up to his dark eyes, and a reckless, desperate thought tumbles right out of your mouth.
“jay… can you teach me about the rest of it?”
jay freezes, his hand instantly stopping its movement on your hip. “the rest of it?”
“yes,” you stammer, your voice incredibly small but filled with a panicked, stubborn determination. you force the lie out, hiding behind your golden shield. “i mean… for jake! what if things escalate on our next date? what if he wants to go further? i don’t want to be completely clueless. i want to know how to make him feel good. i need to learn how sex works. the mechanics.”
jay studies your face for a long, agonizingly silent beat. the air in the room feels impossibly thick. you can feel the sudden, intense heat radiating from his lap, a physical reminder of exactly what your grinding had done to him. but jay is a professional, and more than that, he refuses to pressure you or take advantage of the ridiculous web of lies you've spun.
slowly, deliberately, jay lifts his hands and gently guides you off his lap. the sudden loss of his warmth makes you shiver. he sits back against his headboard, pulling one knee up to his chest, his expression shifting into something clinical, serious, and entirely focused.
“alright, newbie,” jay says, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that commands your absolute attention. “if you want to talk about how to make a guy feel good, we’re keeping this strictly theoretical. understand? no hands-on for this part.”
you nod quickly, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, your hands tightly clasped in your lap as your face burns hot.
“good. then let’s start with manual stimulation. handjobs,” jay begins, his tone conversational but his words dripping with a raw, explicit honesty that makes your jaw drop. “it’s not just about gripping and sliding. the anatomy is sensitive. a guy's nerves are concentrated right at the head, especially underneath, on the frenulum. if you just pull the skin up and down dry, it’s uncomfortable. you need friction control. you use lubrication, or even just saliva, and you start with a firm but gentle grip at the base.”
you feel your eyes widening, your brain frantically trying to take mental notes as he speaks. jay doesn't break eye contact; he looks straight at you, using clinical but undeniably dirty language that makes your heart thump in your throat.
“the rhythm is everything,” jay continues smoothly, his voice dropping an octave, turning into a heavy, suffocating purr. “you match his breathing. a slow, steady stroke all the way from the base to the top, and when you reach the head, you twist your thumb gently over the top. it builds the pressure. you don’t speed up until his breath catches. you pay attention to his sounds.”
“o-oh,” you squeak, your hands twisting together. “i… okay. slow rhythm. twist at the top.”
“exactly,” jay says, a faint, amused half-smile touching his lips at your absolute mortification, though his eyes remain heavy and intense. “now, if things go further… oral. blowjobs. this is where most girls panic because they think about their teeth. your teeth should never touch his skin, newbie. you keep your lips curled completely over them. like an anchor.”
you feel like you’re going to spontaneously combust. your cheeks are a catastrophic shade of purple, but you are hanging on every single syllable.
“the technique isn’t just about depth,” jay murmurs, his gaze dropping to your mouth for a heavy, unhurried second before rising back to your eyes. “it’s about suction and warmth. you use the roof of your mouth and your tongue to create a vacuum. you start slow, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him in. and the most important part? the pacing. you don’t just stay at the top; you move down to the base, using one hand to stroke the shaft while your mouth handles the rest. dual stimulation.”
he pauses, leaning forward just a fraction, his voice dropping into a whisper that sends a violent shiver straight down your spine.
“and you never, ever break eye contact,” jay whispers, his dark eyes locking onto yours with a terrifying amount of gravity. “when you’re down there, you look up at him. through your lashes. you let him see exactly what you’re doing to him. it drives a guy absolutely insane, newbie. it completely breaks his control.”
you sit there, completely paralyzed, your chest heaving as you absorb the intense, explicit breakdown. you are utterly mortified, entirely overwhelmed, and your brain is screaming at you that you are supposed to be picturing jake sim during this entire lecture.
but as you look at jay — at the way his jaw tightens, the way his low, gravelly voice sounds saying those explicit words, and the dark, possessive heat hidden deep in his eyes — you realize with a sudden wave of pure terror that jake’s face hasn't crossed your mind even once.
you sit there at the foot of his bed, your heart hammering against your ribs so violently you can hear it in your ears. the explicit details of his words are still hanging heavy in the dim, warm air of the dorm room. your hands are knotted tightly in the fabric of your sweater, your palms slick with a nervous sweat.
you look down at his lap, then back up to his dark, unhurried eyes. the golden shield of your excuse — the lie that this is all a clinical preparation for a future with jake sim — feels incredibly heavy, but it’s the only armor you have left.
"jay," you whisper, your voice cracking slightly. you swallow hard, your face burning a catastrophic shade of crimson as you force the words out. "if... if the rhythm and the grip are that specific... what if i mess it up? what if i'm too rough, or too loose? can you... can you give me another practical example?"
jay’s entire body tenses. the casual, leaning posture against his headboard locks up instantly. his eyes widen just a fraction, his gaze dropping to your trembling hands before snapping back up to look at your face. the heavy, silent tension in room 314 returns with the force of a physical blow.
"newbie," jay rasps, his voice rougher and deeper than before. he clears his throat, his knuckles whitening as his hands grip the mattress. "we said strictly theoretical for this. i'm not trying to rush you into anything."
"i'm not rushed," you lie desperately, leaning forward just a fraction, your heart in your throat. "i just... i need to know if i'm doing it right. for the baseline. please, jay."
jay stares at you for three agonizing, breathless seconds. his jaw tightens so hard you can see the muscle tick under his sharp skin. he lets out a long, slow, ragged exhale through his teeth, the restraint he’s been maintaining for weeks visibly fracturing.
"alright," jay murmurs, his tone shifting into a low, gravelly register that vibrates straight through your chest. "come here."
you move on your knees, sliding across the mattress until you're sitting right beside his thigh. your knees are trembling. jay reaches down, his fingers hooking under the hem of his dark trousers, and with a low rustle of fabric, he frees himself.
your breath catches completely. he is already thick, fully erect, and a dark, heavy flush is painting his skin. the pure, raw reality of it makes your mind go entirely blank.
"don't look away," jay commands softly, his voice remarkably steady despite the shallow rise and fall of his chest. "wrap your fingers like this."
he reaches out, his broad, warm hand wrapping around yours to guide it. he positions your fingers at the very base of his shaft, curling them in a firm, even cylinder. his skin feels smooth, white-hot, and pulsing beneath your touch.
"now, look at me," jay whispers, his face inches from yours. "stroke up. slow. all the way to the top."
you slowly move your hand upward, the physical friction sending a jolt of pure electricity straight up your arm. your heart is beating in an erratic rhythm against your ribs.
"good. just like that, newbie," jay praises you, a low, breathy rumble in his throat. his eyes crinkle slightly at the corners, a soft, encouraging look melting his usual sharp features. "now, when you hit the head... slower at the top. twist your thumb over the frenulum. exactly like i explained."
you follow his instructions perfectly, slowing the motion, your thumb dragging gently over the ultra-sensitive rim.
"oh— fuck," jay lets out a sudden, ragged groan, his eyes instantly fluttering shut as his head thumps back against the headboard. the sound is deep, unvarnished, and completely intoxicating. "yes. right there. that's perfect, sweetheart. keep that exact pace."
hearing the pet name slip past his lips makes your stomach do a violent, hot flip. you keep going, your movements becoming smoother, more confident as you fall into the heavy, dragging rhythm. you watch his face, completely fascinated by the raw power you suddenly hold over him.
but as the seconds tick by, the clinical baseline completely disintegrates. the touch is too hot, the friction too intense, and jay’s carefully constructed control begins to dangerously slip.
his breathing turns shallow and frantic, his chest heaving under his shirt. his sharp, dark brows furrow in a look that almost resembles pain. he lets out another heavy, broken groan, a sudden, involuntary jerk rippling through his lower half as his hips instinctively thrust upward against the firm pressure of your hand.
"jay," you whisper, completely captivated by the sight of him losing his mind beneath your touch.
"keep going... shit, don't stop," he swears under his breath, his voice rough and completely ungrounded. his hand flies to your wrist, not to pull you away, but to physically lock your hand in place, his fingers squeezing tightly as he takes over the pace, forcing your hand to move faster, harder against him. another ragged, breathy moan escapes his lips, his jaw clenching so tightly his veins stand out against his neck. "you're too good at this... fuck, newbie..."
the sheer, overwhelming heat of the moment fills the quiet room, the sound of his ragged breathing and the soft, slick friction of your hand filling the space between you. you are utterly drowning in him, your thumb tracing the wetness at the tip, your own breathing turning heavy as you lean into his space.
you look up through your lashes, his dark eyes snapping open to look down at you, clouded with a fierce, possessive hunger. and that’s when the old, desperate script in your head panics, trying one last time to pull you back to safety.
"is this… how i should do it for jake?" you whisper, the question slipping out before you can stop it.
jay freezes.
the pleasure on his face vanishes instantly. his hand snaps down, gripping your wrist hard enough to still you completely. his eyes open, sharp and raw.
jay stares down at you, his chest heaving, his lips parted as he absorbs the name. for a second, something painful flashes across his face — hurt, anger, and something deeper. he exhales shakily, then gently but firmly removes your hand from him. the silence that crashes into the room is suffocating.
he reaches down, gently but firmly removing your hand from his skin, and quietly covers himself back up, shifting his weight to sit back against the wall.
the sudden loss of contact leaves your hand feeling cold, your fingers tingling. the blinding wave of embarrassment returns, your cheeks exploding into a furious red flush as you realize what you just said.
“newbie…” he says quietly, voice rough. “don’t do that.”
you feel sick with embarrassment. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean—”
but jay doesn't lash out. he doesn't tease you, and he doesn't bring up the name. instead, he just looks down at your flustered, wide-eyed face, a soft, incredibly gentle expression taking over his sharp features.
"hey," jay murmurs, his voice still low and beautifully rough from the aftereffects of the pleasure. he reaches out, his large, warm hand gently patting the top of your head, his fingers lightly smoothing down your messy hair. "don't look at me like that. you didn't do anything wrong."
you look up at him through your bangs, your heart still thumping softly. "i'm sorry. i shouldn't have..."
"it's fine," jay interrupts softly, a faint, tired but genuinely warm smile touching his lips. his hand slides down from your head to rest gently on your shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "you're a fast learner, newbie. really fast. you passed the lesson."
he sits there, his hand warm and heavy on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing a slow, comforting circle into your shirt. it’s a soft, lingering moment of aftercare that feels entirely too domestic, entirely too real for a simple tutoring session. and as you look at his gentle smile, your hand still warm from his skin, the lie about jake feels smaller and more pathetic than it ever has before.
-------
when thursday afternoon rolls around, the tension inside your chest is so thick you can barely swallow. the walk to the west quad feels different today; the golden armor of your excuses is getting heavier, cracking, but the raw curiosity burning in your veins is too loud to ignore.
when you knock on the door to room 314, jay opens it almost instantly. he’s wearing a loose, dark gray t-shirt and light gray sweatpants, his dark hair falling messy across his forehead. his eyes immediately lock onto yours, a quiet, intense gravity in his gaze that lets you know he hasn't forgotten a single second of tuesday's handjob lesson either.
"come in, newbie," jay murmurs, stepping aside.
you walk in and immediately sit cross-legged in the center of his unmade bed, your hands tucked between your knees to hide how much they’re shaking. jay closes the door, the heavy click sealing the two of you in the quiet, sandalwood-scented dimness of his room.
he doesn't sit in his desk chair. he walks straight to the edge of the mattress, standing right in front of you, looking down with his hands shoved casually into his sweatpants pockets. "alright. lesson seven. what are we breaking down today?"
you look up at him, your cheeks instantly exploding into a fierce, burning crimson. you swallow hard, your fingers twisting together as you force the words out. "i... i want to learn how to give a blowjob. you explained the theory on tuesday, but... i’ve always been curious about how the actual tongue work and depth feel. i want the practical example, jay."
jay’s entire posture locks up. his eyes darken significantly, a sudden, heavy wave of heat rolling off his body as he stares down at your flushed, determined face. he takes a slow, ragged breath through his nose, his jaw clenching tightly.
"newbie," jay rasps, his voice incredibly deep and rough. "are you absolutely sure about this? once we cross this line, there’s no turning back."
"i'm sure," you whisper, looking him straight in the eye.
jay doesn't say another word. he slowly pulls his hands out of his pockets and sits down on the edge of the bed, right in front of you. with a low, deliberate rustle of fabric, he pushes his sweatpants down, freeing his thick, fully erect length. he is already pulsing, a heavy, dark flush painting his white-hot skin.
"get down on your knees between my legs," jay commands softly, his voice remarkably patient, completely ridden of his usual mocking tone
you slide off the mattress, sinking onto your knees on the hardwood floor right between his thighs. your face is level with his lap, the raw heat of his arousal radiating against your cheeks.
"now, look at me," jay whispers, his large, warm hand rising to gently cup the back of your head, his long fingers tangling into your hair to steady you. "remember what i said. keep your lips curled completely over your teeth. let me feel your tongue first. swirl it right around the head."
you lean in, your hands hesitantly resting on the top of his firm thighs for balance. you slowly extend your tongue, dragging the wet, warm tip in a slow circle around the sensitive rim of his crown.
"oh— fuck," jay lets out a sharp, ragged gasp, his head immediately tossing back, his eyes fluttering shut as a deep shiver ripples through his lower half. his fingers tighten gently in your hair. "yes. just like that, baby. you're so warm, you feel so good."
"now, open up a little more," jay murmurs, his dark eyes snapping open to look down at you, clouded with an intense, suffocating pleasure. "take the top half in. use the roof of your mouth to create a gentle suction. don't rush the depth yet."
you part your lips, curling them firmly over your teeth as he instructed, and slowly slide your mouth over the thick, smooth head of his shaft. the sudden warmth and tightness of your mouth makes jay let out a low, broken moan deep in his chest. you pull back slightly, then slide forward again, your tongue swirling against him with every movement.
"you're doing so good, newbie," jay praises you, his voice a low, breathy rumble right above your head. his hand in your hair is incredibly sweet, gently guiding your rhythm, pacing your movements so you don’t choke. "you're so pretty looking up at me like that. god, you're perfect."
hearing him call you pretty makes a violent, hot flash of adrenaline surge through you. you grow bolder, sliding your mouth a little further down, letting your throat adapt to the thickness. you manage your breathing, taking steady, short inhales through your nose as your mouth works rhythmically against him.
the clinical nature of the lesson completely shatters. jay’s control begins to dangerously fracture under the wet, tight heat of your mouth. his breathing turns shallow and frantic, his chest heaving under his t-shirt as his hips instinctively lift, thrusting a fraction deeper into your mouth with a heavy, unvarnished desperation.
"shit, look at you," jay groans out, a ragged, completely ungrounded swear escaping his lips as his grip on your hair tightens just enough to hold you in place. his eyes are locked onto yours, blazing with a raw, possessive hunger as you look up at him through your lashes. "look at you, sucking me off so good... fuck, sweetheart, you're driving me insane."
the explicit praise sends a jolt of pure electricity straight down your spine. you wrap your right hand around the base of his shaft, sliding it up and down in sync with the heavy suction of your mouth, creating a flawless, dual stimulation that completely breaks his remaining restraint.
jay let out a deep, guttural cry, his jaw clenching so hard the veins stand out against his neck, his hips moving faster, more rapidly against your mouth as he inches closer and closer to the edge.
"hold on— hold on, baby, stop," jay suddenly rasps, his breathing completely shattered. he gently but firmly pulls your head back by your hair, his chest heaving as he draws a long, shaky breath.
you blink up at him, your lips wet and flushed a deep red, your heart thumping violently. jay stares down at your face, his eyes incredibly heavy, full of a fierce, protective softness that completely melts his sharp features.
slowly, he reaches down, his thumb gently wiping away a drop of moisture from the corner of your mouth. a faint, breathless, and incredibly tender smile on his lips.
"you're a genius, newbie," jay whispers, his voice beautifully rough as he lightly taps your cheek. "lesson concluded. you're officially too good for this campus."
-------
when you arrive for the next lesson, the atmospheric pressure inside room 314 feels entirely different. the standard conversational buffer — the casual banter about classes, the lingering ghost of a mention of jake — is completely gone. when jay opens the door, he doesn’t say his usual witty greeting. he just looks at you, his dark eyes heavy and remarkably soft, and reaches down to gently take your bag from your hand, setting it by the desk.
"hey," he murmurs, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly timbre that instantly makes your pulse flutter.
"hey," you whisper back.
he closes the door with a quiet, deliberate click, locking it before turning back to you. he’s wearing a simple black t-shirt that clings to his broad shoulders, and his hair is a little messy, falling perfectly over his forehead. he doesn't wait for you to sit on the edge of the mattress; instead, he takes your hand, his long, warm fingers sliding effortlessly between yours, and guides you to the middle of the bed.
"we've spent a lot of time breaking down what makes a guy lose his mind," jay says softly, sitting down right in front of you, his knees brushing against your thighs. his free hand reaches up, his thumb gently tracing the line of your jaw, tilting your face up so you're forced to look directly into his eyes. "but that's only half the mechanics, newbie. you need to know what feels good for you, too. you need to know how your body reacts when someone is completely focused on you."
your breath catches, a fierce, sudden heat blooming across your chest. "jay..."
"i'm going to go slow, okay?" he interrupts gently, his eyes crinkling warmly at the corners with a reassuring, incredibly tender smile. "no rushing. i'm going to teach you exactly how you're supposed to be touched."
he leans forward, his lips pressing softly against your forehead, then your temple, before trailing down to the sensitive column of your neck. a violent, delicious shiver ripples through your entire body as he kisses his way back up to your jawline, his lips warm and unhurried.
"lay down for me, sweetheart," jay whispers against your skin, his hands moving to your waist to gently guide you back onto the pillows.
you slide down, your heart hammering a frantic rhythm against your ribs as jay shifts, hovering over you, supported by his elbows on either side of your head. his gaze rakes over your flushed face, his expression so fiercely loving and sweet it makes your chest ache. he reaches down, his large, warm hand sliding under the hem of your top, his palm resting flat against the bare skin of your stomach. you let out a soft, sharp inhale at the sudden friction.
"just breathe," jay praises you, his voice a soft, comforting rumble as his fingers trail lower, gently nudging the waistband of your shorts. "let me do the work."
slowly, deliberately, he eases your clothes down, exposing the smooth skin of your thighs to the dim, warm air of the room. you instinctively try to pull your knees together, a sudden wave of shyness hitting you, but jay gently presses them apart, sliding his body between your legs to anchor you. he doesn't look away; his eyes stay locked onto yours as his fingers softly brush against the inner skin of your thigh, moving upward with agonizingly slow, light strokes.
"you are so beautiful, newbie," he murmurs, leaning down to press a deep, lingering kiss to your lips, tasting you fully before trailing his mouth down to your collarbone. "so pretty for me."
when his hand finally reaches the center of your heat, you let out a breathless, broken gasp, your fingers instantly clutching at the fabric of his t-shirt. his fingers are warm, incredibly gentle as they find the small, sensitive bundle of nerves. he starts with light, circular motions, his thumb sliding over the slick skin with a practiced, effortless rhythm.
"there you go," jay whispers against your neck, his hot breath fanning across your skin as he tracks the sudden, erratic hitch in your breathing. "feel that? that's the baseline. you just stay relaxed, let the heat build."
he introduces a single finger, sliding it slowly into your tight, wet heat. a soft, helpless moan escapes your throat, your hips instinctively lifting against his hand. jay lets out a low, rough hum of absolute approval deep in his chest, his finger moving in a slow, curling motion that targets a deep, heavy ache you didn't even know was there.
"look at me, sweetheart," he commands softly. you blink your eyes open, your vision slightly blurry from the sheer intensity of it, to find him staring down at you with an unvarnished, consuming intensity. "you're doing so good. you're so wet for me."
he continues the rhythm, his fingers moving inside you with a steady, heavy pace while his thumb keeps a relentless, agonizingly perfect pressure on your core. you feel the tension building rapidly, a hot, tight knot coiling tightly in your lower stomach. your hands tangle deep into his dark hair, pulling him closer as your breathing turns shallow and desperate.
"jay... jay," you whimpered, completely ungrounded by the overwhelming sensation.
"i've got you," he murmurs sweetly, kissing away the tears gathering at the corners of your eyes. he pulls his hand away for just a fraction of a second, making you let out a needy whine, before he shifts his body lower on the mattress.
he presses your knees open wider, his hands firmly gripping the undersides of your thighs to steady you. you look down through your lashes, your face burning a furious purple as jay leans his head down, his mouth replacing his fingers.
the first touch of his wet, warm tongue against your sensitive core makes your entire body arch off the mattress, a loud, unvarnished cry echoing through the quiet room. jay's hands tighten on your thighs, anchoring you completely as his tongue sweeps upward in long, firm strokes, applying a heavy, steady suction that sends a violent, electric current straight down your spine.
"oh my god," you sob out, your fingers desperately clutching at the bedsheets as the coiling tension inside you completely snaps.
jay doesn't stop. he works through your release, his tongue moving in a relentless, beautifully deep rhythm, drinking you in as your body trembles and shakes beneath him. he holds you steady through the intense waves, his mouth warm and unbelievably patient against your sensitive skin until the final tremors slowly begin to fade.
when he finally slides back up the mattress, his face is flushed, his dark eyes shining with a deep, triumphant softness. he pulls the blankets up over your shivering shoulders, immediately wrapping his broad arms around you and pulling your back flush against his chest in a tight, protective embrace.
he leans down, his lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of your warm neck.
"you did so perfect, newbie," jay whispers into your hair, his voice rough and beautifully thick as his large hand rests over your heart, feeling it hammer a frantic pace against his palm. "absolutely perfect."
the cool night air hits your face the moment you step out of the west quad, but it does absolutely nothing to cool the raging, white-hot fire burning beneath your skin. your limbs feel heavy, almost liquid, and every step you take on the concrete sidewalk feels strangely disconnected from reality.
the guilt catches up to you by the time you reach the campus quad. it settles into your stomach like a block of lead, heavy and suffocating.
you just had sex with jay park.
well, not full intercourse, but it was sexual. it was intimate. he touched you, he put his mouth on you, he held you through the most intense physical release of your life, and he wrapped his arms around you like you belonged to him. the raw, unvarnished memory of his wet tongue, his whispers of "sweetheart," and the protective warmth of his chest pressed against your back makes a violent shudder get to your core.
it's for jake, your brain screams, a frantic, high-pitched panic echoing in your head as you grip the straps of your tote bag until your knuckles turn white. the reason why you're doing this is for improving for jake. you're a newbie. you needed to know what a release felt like so you don't panic or freeze up when jake finally takes you to his bed. jay is just the instructor. he's a textbook. he has nothing to do with this.
but deep inside, in a dark, quiet corner of your soul that you are desperately trying to block out, you know it's a lie. you know text modules and posture corrections don't involve a guy worshiping your body until you're sobbing his name into his pillows.
still, you really try to convince yourself. you force the golden shield back into place, cementing the lie with sheer, stubborn willpower as you unlock the door to your apartment. yunjin's bedroom door is closed, the apartment blissfully dark. you tip-toe straight into your room, lock the door behind you, and collapse onto your bed without even changing out of your clothes.
the bed feels too big, too cold, and your skin is still tingling, practically begging for the touch that was just stripped away from it.
fine, you think desperately, staring up at the shadows on your ceiling. if it's for jake, prove it. fantasize about him.
your hands shake as you slide them down the denim of your shorts, slipping past the waistband to touch the lingering, hypersensitive heat between your thighs. you close your eyes tightly, forcing jake's face into your mind's eye. you picture the sweet way he ruffles your hair, the little Italian restaurant with the string lights, the gentle way he holds your hand across the table.
you start to move your fingers, replicating the exact circular rhythm jay had used on you just an hour ago. a soft, needy gasp escapes your lips into the quiet room. the heat builds rapidly, your body already primed and ready to boil over.
it's jake, you tell yourself, your breathing turning hurried as you pick up the pace. imagine jake doing this to you. imagine jake hovering over you in the dark.
you lean into the fantasy, letting the tight, coiling knot in your stomach take over. you bite your lip hard, letting your brain go insane — imagining the pretty sounds he’d make, mouth open in a slight “o” as his brows furrow, hair falling down, almost reaching that pretty nose adorned with the scar you love to feel between your—
wait.
jake doesn’t have a nose scar.
that’s jay.
your fingers freeze.
the world inside your bedroom completely grinds to a halt. you stare blankly at the dark ceiling, your hand slipping out from your shorts as if your skin had suddenly turned to ice. your heart is hammering, but it’s not from the pleasure anymore; it’s from pure, unadulterated terror.
you just pictured jay.
you were touching yourself, trying to build a future with the boy you’ve liked for months, and your brain completely bypassed him to conjure the exact, devastating image of jay park’s sharp jaw, his furrowed brows, and that tiny, pale scar cutting right across the bridge of his aristocratic nose.
a suffocating wave of reality hits you. it isn't jake. it has never been jake. not since you walked into room 314.
the next morning, the guilt is a physical sickness in your throat. you can’t look at your phone. when jake texts you a picture of a golden retriever he saw on his walk, you reply with a short, polite emoji, your stomach twisting into knots. you are entirely, completely compromised.
by monday afternoon, you know what you have to do. you can't keep going to room 314. if you walk back into that room, if you let him put his hands on your waist one more time, you will never be able to look jake sim in the eye again. you will lose the entire script.
with shaking thumbs, you open your chat with jay.
you: hey jay. i think we should stop the lessons. i think i have everything i need now. thank you for everything.
you hit send and immediately flip your phone face-down on your duvet, burying your face in your hands. you expect him to reply with his usual lazy, arrogant ‘sure thing, newbie’. you expect him to be relieved that his tutoring duties are officially over.
but three minutes later, your phone buzzes. then it buzzes again. and again.
jay: what do you mean? jay: did something happen? jay: newbie answer your phone. if i did something on thursday to make you uncomfortable you need to tell me. i told you we could go at your pace. did i pressure you?
the sheer, frantic panic in his messages makes your throat tighten. the cool, unbothered, perfectly composed jay park is completely gone, replaced by someone who sounds genuinely, deeply terrified that he hurt you.
you bite your lip, a stray tear slipping down your cheek as you type back.
you: no! no, jay, you didn't do anything wrong at all. you were perfect. it's just... things are getting serious with jake. he asked me out again this weekend. and since jake was the original purpose of the whole thing... i need to focus on him now. i have to be fair to him.
you watch the screen. the three little typing dots appear almost instantly. then they disappear. then they appear again. the silence stretching between your apartments feels agonizing.
finally, the phone buzzes one last time.
jay: right. the original purpose. jay: i get it. good luck this weekend, newbie. drive him crazy.
the text is so clinical, so brief, it feels like a physical slap. he doesn't fight it. he doesn't tease you. he just steps back into the box of the "instructor," closing the lid firmly behind him.
-------
the rest of the week passes in a gray, heavy blur. you don't go to the west quad. you take the long way around the library just so you don't have to risk seeing his tall silhouette walking past the glass windows.
friday night arrives, and you're sitting at the vanity in your bedroom, curling your hair for your second official date with jake. yunjin is leaning against your doorframe, watching you with a slight, curious frown.
"you're quiet today," yunjin notes, crossing her arms. "usually before a jake date you're bouncing off the walls. didn't your theoretical lessons with jay give you a confidence boost?"
"they did," you lie softly, your eyes fixed on your reflection. "i'm just... focused."
"well, jay's been acting weird too," yunjin shrugs, turning back toward the living room. "saw him at the student union yesterday. he looked like he hadn't slept in four days. completely tuned out."
your grip on the curling iron tightens so hard your palm aches. he's fine, you tell yourself desperately. he's jay park. he's glad to have his bed back to himself.
an hour later, you're sitting across from jake at a trendy, low-lit taco place downtown. the restaurant is loud, music bouncing off the brick walls. jake is looking at you with that sweet, boyish grin, talking animatedly about his soccer coach's ridiculous training schedule.
he's perfect. he's everything you wanted.
but as the noise of the restaurant swells, jake leans across the small wooden table, his face closing the distance to say something over the music. your brain immediately fires a memory — the heavy weight of jay's chest pressed against your back, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, his low voice whispering 'we're in a quiet room, stop playing games with me.'
"hey," jake says, his hand reaching out to lightly tap your wrist. "you there? you looked like you were a million miles away."
"i'm here," you say, forcing a bright, sweet smile onto your face. "sorry, just listening."
when the date ends, jake walks you all the way back to your apartment building. the air on the porch is cool, the dim amber light of the streetlamp casting long shadows over the brick steps. it's the exact setup from a week ago. the final act.
jake stands close, his dark eyes looking down at you with a soft, undeniable affection. he reaches out, his fingers gently tucking a stray curl behind your ear. his hand is nice. it's sweet.
"i had a really great time tonight," jake whispers, leaning in slowly.
your heart spikes, your body automatically going rigid as you realize it’s happening. this is it. the practical application. jake tilts his head, his eyes dropping to your mouth before closing as he bridges the final inch.
his lips press against yours.
it is a perfectly nice kiss. it's gentle, polite, and safe. but as jake's mouth moves against yours, your brain does absolutely nothing. there is no white-hot rush of electricity. there is no heavy, suffocating gravity pulling at your soul. your hands stay flat against your sides, entirely lacking the desperate urge to slide beneath his shirt, to grip his broad shoulders, to tangle into his hair.
jake pulls back after a few seconds, a sweet, satisfied smile on his face. "goodnight," he murmurs, ruffling your hair gently before turning to walk down the steps.
you stand on the porch in the quiet night air, staring at his retreating back. your lips feel completely cold. your skin feels entirely empty. and as you turn the key in your apartment lock, a crushing, definitive truth finally breaks through the last of your defenses.
the lessons didn't prepare you for jake sim. they ruined you for anyone who isn't jay park.
-------
you keep trying.
you really, truly do. you go on a third date with jake to an indie movie theater, and a fourth date where he cooks dinner for you at his apartment. he is everything a boyfriend should be — attentive, sweet, incredibly handsome, and completely respectful. but every time he holds your hand, your fingers feel numb. every time he leans down to kiss you goodnight on your porch, your mind is a completely flat, silent room.
there are no shivers. there is no gravelly voice whispering “breathe, newbie” against your skin. there is no heavy, intoxicating scent of sandalwood.
you are physically with jake sim, but you are entirely haunted by jay park.
you miss him. you miss him so much it feels like a physical ache in the center of your chest. you miss the arrogant, lazy smirks that you eventually learned how to kiss right off his face. you miss the way his large, warm hands felt sliding underneath your sweater. you miss the breathless, quiet aftercare where he would just stroke your hair and tell you you did perfect.
you haven't received a single text from him in two weeks. your chat history sits at the bottom of your messages, a cold, clinical reminder of "the original purpose."
then comes tuesday afternoon.
you’re sitting on the living room rug of your apartment, your knees pulled to your chest as you stare blankly at a textbook you haven't actually read a page of in thirty minutes. yunjin is sitting on the couch right behind you, painting her toenails a vibrant shade of cherry red.
the apartment is completely quiet except for the rhythmic swipe, swipe of her nail brush.
"hey," yunjin speaks up suddenly, not looking up from her pinky toe. "so, i ran into jake at the gym earlier today."
your shoulders instantly tighten. "oh. yeah?"
"yeah. he was glowing, honestly," yunjin says, finally capping the nail polish and leaning back against the cushions. she looks down at the top of your head, her sharp eyes narrowing in a familiar, hyper-observant squint. "he said things are going amazingly with you. he literally told me you're the most perfect, sweet girl he’s ever met."
you let out a tiny, hollow sound that is supposed to be a laugh, but it sounds incredibly sad. "that's... nice."
"so..." yunjin trails off, leaning forward and resting her elbows on her knees. her voice drops into a lighter, teasing tone. "come on. spill. how are the advanced lessons going? did jay's theoretical tutoring actually work? did he give you the magic playbook or what?"
at the mention of his name, something inside you completely snaps.
the two weeks of suffocating guilt, the crushing weight of the lies, the phantom feeling of jay's mouth on yours, and the sheer, exhausting misery of pretending to be happy with jake all come crashing down at once. your eyes suddenly sting with hot, angry tears, and a shaky, broken sob escapes your throat before you can even think to mask it.
yunjin freezes. her jaw practically drops to the floor as she watches your shoulders violently shake, your face burying themselves into your knees.
"wait— oh my god, hey," yunjin stammers, instantly sliding off the couch and dropping to the rug beside you. she wraps a panicked arm around your shoulders, pulling you close. "what's wrong? did jake do something? did he hurt you? i will literally fight him right now—"
"no!" you sob out, your voice muffled and thick with tears as you shake your head against your knees. "no, jake didn't do anything! jake is perfect! he's so sweet!"
"then why are you crying like someone died?" yunjin asks, completely bewildered, her hand rubbing your back in a comforting motion. "if jake is perfect, what's wrong?"
you lift your head, your face a catastrophic, tear-stained shade of purple, your chest heaving as you look at your best friend.
"it's jay," you choke out, the truth finally tearing its way out of your chest.
yunjin blinks, her eyebrows furrowing in deep confusion. "jay? jay park? what does he have to do with you crying about jake?"
"the lessons," you whisper, a fresh wave of tears spilling over your lashes. "they... they weren't theoretical, yunjin. i lied to you. i lied to everyone."
yunjin’s entire body goes completely still. her grip on your shoulder tightens as she stares at you, the dots in her highly perceptive brain suddenly trying to connect a picture she never expected to see. "what do you mean they weren't theoretical?"
"we... we did a practical lesson, a lot of them, actually," you confess, your voice cracking with pure, unadulterated embarrassment, but the relief of finally saying it out loud is a physical weight lifting off your lungs. "the first few weeks were just talking, but then... when he was telling me how to kiss someone correctly, i panicked because i thought i'd be bad at kissing jake. so i asked jay for a real example. and he kissed me."
yunjin’s eyes widen to the size of literal dinner saucers. "jay kissed you?"
"yes," you whine, covering your face with your hands. "and then it happened again. and again. and then we started meeting almost every single day. we weren't even studying anymore, yunjin. i would sit on his lap for a whole hour and we just made out on and on. and then last week... we... we did some more things, and he showed me what felt good for me, too. with his hands, and his— his mouth."
yunjin lets out a sharp, breathless gasp, her hand flying over her mouth. she looks completely, utterly flabbergasted, her jaw practically unhinged. "oh my god. oh my god. you and jay... you guys were sleeping together?"
"not all the way! but yes!" you cry out, pulling your hands away from your face, looking at her desperately. "and the whole time, i kept telling myself it was for jake. i kept saying 'oh, i'm just a newbie getting hands-on experience so i can be good for jake'. i even tried to touch myself thinking about jake afterwards, but yunjin... when i closed my eyes, all i could see was jay. i saw his face, and his hair, and his nose scar."
yunjin is staring at you like you’ve just spoken to her in a foreign language. she is completely speechless, processing the absolute bombshell you just dropped into her living room.
"so... so i stopped the lessons, everything," you whisper, your voice dropping to a broken, miserable murmur as you look down at your lap. "i texted him and told him i had to focus on jake. and he just said okay. and now i'm going on these dates with jake, and he's so nice, yunjin, he really is... but i… don't feel anything. when jake kisses me, it's just... cold. i don't want jake to touch me. i just want jay. i miss him so much it hurts, and i'm a horrible person because i used him as a textbook and now i've completely ruined everything."
you bury your face back in your hands, your shoulders shaking as you let the final wave of tears take over, waiting for yunjin to lecture you, to tell you how reckless you were, or to tell you how completely messy this entire situation is.
instead, yunjin lets out a long, slow, and incredibly deep exhale. she reaches out, gently pulling your hands away from your face, forcing you to look at her. the initial shock on her face has melted away, replaced by a look of sheer, unbelievable realization.
"my love," yunjin says slowly, her voice completely serious. "are you actually an idiot?"
you blink through your tears, sniffing. "what?"
"you think you used jay park?" yunjin asks, letting out a wild, disbelieving laugh. "are we talking about the same jay park? the guy who has half the girls on the humanities campus begging for a text back? the guy who doesn't let anyone into his personal space, let alone his dorm room?"
you wipe your eyes with the back of your sleeve, confused. "but... it was a casual thing. he was just being a good instructor..."
"oh my god, you are a literal child," yunjin groans, throwing her hands up in the air. "listen to me. jay fucking park did not give you a 'practical lesson' because he cares about your future with jake sim. he did not spend an hour letting you straddle his lap and eat his face because he’s a dedicated tutor. he did those things because he is completely, utterly obsessed with you, you absolute moron!"
the conversation with yunjin stays ringing in your ears for the rest of the week, a loud, echoing truth that makes your chest feel completely hollow. he is completely, utterly obsessed with you. you want to believe it. god, you want to believe it so bad, but the memory of his final text — ‘good luck this weekend, newbie. drive him crazy.’ — stands like a massive brick wall between you and room 314.
and then, jake texts you.
it’s not a casual, low-effort ‘grab coffee?’ or a late-night invite to watch him play soccer. he sends a long, beautifully constructed message, asking you on a proper, official date to a high-end jazz lounge downtown that requires a reservation weeks in advance. he tells you he’s been noticing your new confidence lately — the way you hold yourself, the lingering eye contact, the ease in your posture — and that he likes you. a lot. he wants to make things official.
a month ago, a text like that would have made you collapse onto your bedroom floor in pure, unadulterated ecstasy. it was the ultimate finish line. the exact gold medal you had been sweating and crying for under jay's brutal, meticulous guidance.
so, you say yes. you force yourself to put on your prettiest dress, you spend an hour doing your makeup, and you walk down the steps of your building to meet jake’s car.
the jazz lounge is beautiful. the dim, amber lighting reflects off the polished mahogany tables, the music is soft and smooth, and jake looks incredibly handsome in a dark blazer. he handles the evening perfectly. he pulls out your chair, he orders the best wine on the menu, and he looks at you with a heavy, sweet admiration that makes your cheeks warm.
"you look absolutely stunning tonight," jake murmurs, reaching across the white tablecloth to gently squeeze your fingers. "honestly, i feel like a different girl walked down the steps today. you've always been gorgeous, but lately... there's just something about you. you're so captivating."
you force a soft smile, nodding your head. "thank you, jake. that's... really sweet."
but as his fingers linger on yours, the crushing reality of the evening finally settles over you.
it’s nice. it’s objectively perfect. but it feels completely, utterly empty.
you sit there, listening to the saxophone player on the stage, and you find yourself looking at the way jake laughs. it’s a nice laugh, but it doesn't make your stomach do a violent, hot flip. you look at his hands, and you realize you don't have the slightest urge to slip your fingers beneath his cuffs. you look at his lips, and the thought of his mouth on yours doesn't make your breath catch.
and in that exact, agonizing moment, the grand illusion you've been clinging to for weeks finally shatters into a million jagged pieces.
you aren't projecting. you aren't using jay as a proxy.
you are deeply, completely, and irrevocably in love with park jay.
the realization hits you with the force of a physical blow, making your breath leave your lungs in a sharp, silent gasp. it isn't just about the mechanics or the white-hot heat of his mattress. it’s the way his dark eyes soften into a fierce, protective warmth whenever you look up at him through your lashes. it’s the patient, steady way he guides you when you panic, never pushing, always making sure you feel safe. it’s the quiet, breathless aftercare where he brushes the hair from your forehead, calling you sweetheart in a voice so thick and honest it makes your soul ache. it’s the easy, effortless way you laugh together between the heavy tension, the real, undeniable connection that you built brick by brick in that small, sandalwood-scented dorm room.
jay didn't teach you how to love jake sim. jay taught you how to love him.
"hey," jake's voice breaks through your thoughts, his brow furrowing with genuine concern as he leans in closer. "are you okay? you're really pale suddenly."
you look at jake — at his kind, sweet face — and you realize that staying here, pretending to be the girl he wants, is the cruelest thing you could possibly do to him. you can't live a lie anymore. the script is over.
"jake," you whisper, your voice trembling as you gently pull your hand back from his grip. "i'm... i'm so sorry. i can't do this."
jake blinks, completely caught off guard. "what? did i say something wrong?"
"no, you're perfect," you say, a tear finally spilling over your lashes as you grab your purse from the back of the chair. "you are absolutely wonderful, jake, i swear. but... my heart is somewhere else. it’s been somewhere else for a long time, and it’s not fair to keep dragging you into it. i’m so, so sorry."
before he can even process the words, you stand up from the table and walk — almost run — straight out of the jazz lounge, leaving the music behind you.
the moment you hit the cool night air of the sidewalk, you don't call a cab. you don't go back to your apartment to cry to yunjin. you sprint.
your heels click loudly against the concrete as you rush toward the west quad, your lungs burning, your heart hammering a desperate, terrifying rhythm against your ribs. the wind completely ruins your curled hair, and your breath comes in short, ragged gasps, but you don't care. the only thing that matters is the distance between you and room 314, and you need to eliminate it right now.
you burst through the heavy glass doors of his building, practically flying up the stairs three at a time because the elevator is too slow, too claustrophobic for the sudden, desperate panic roaring through your veins.
you reach the third floor, your chest heaving as you run down the carpeted hallway until you're standing directly in front of his heavy wooden door.
you don't wait to compose yourself. you don't brace your shoulders or try to be normal. you lift your shaking hand and knock against the wood, loudly, your whole body trembling in the quiet corridor.
the heavy wooden door swings open almost immediately, the sudden movement revealing jay standing in the entryway. he’s wearing an oversized black hoodie and matching sweatpants, his dark hair messy as if he’d been running his fingers through it repeatedly.
the second his dark eyes lock onto you, he freezes. his gaze sweeps over your ruined curls, the formal dress you’re wearing, the rapid rise and fall of your chest, and the fresh tears spilling over your cheeks.
"newbie?" jay rasps, his voice completely stripping of its usual calm, unbothered composure. he steps forward, his hands instantly coming up to hover near your shoulders, completely shocked. "what— what are you doing here? why are you crying? did something happen with jake? did he hurt you? i swear to god i'll kill—"
"i'm in love with you," you blurts out, the words tearing out of your throat in a shaky, breathless sob before he can even finish his sentence.
jay stops dead in his tracks. his hands freeze in mid-air, his jaw dropping open just a fraction as his entire body goes completely rigid. the quiet corridor feels extremely silent, the heavy weight of your words hanging in the space between you.
"i'm in love with you," you repeat, a fresh wave of hot tears blurring your vision as you look up at his face. you feel incredibly shy, completely stripped of your armor, your voice dropping to a small, trembling whisper. "i went on the date with jake. he was perfect, jay. he took me to that jazz lounge, and he held my hand, and he told me i was beautiful... but it felt completely empty. i didn't want him to touch me. i didn't want him to kiss me. because the whole time, the only person i could think about was you. i thought about how you look at me, and how safe i feel when you hold me, and... and i realized i've been lying to myself for weeks. i don't want jake. i want you. i've always wanted you."
jay stares down at you, his expression completely blank for three long, agonizing seconds. you feel a sudden, terrifying wave of panic hit your stomach, convinced you’ve just made the biggest mistake of your life.
then, jay’s shoulders start to shake.
he drops his head back, a sudden, sharp bark of laughter escaping his lips. he keeps laughing, a breathless, rough sound that makes your heart sink into your shoes. he’s laughing at me, you think completely mortified, stepping back a fraction. yunjin was wrong, he thinks i'm pathetic—
before you can even take a full step away, jay moves.
his large hands shoot forward, wrapping securely around your waist, and with one heavy, desperate pull, he yanks you forward into his dorm room. the door slams shut behind you with a loud, final click, and suddenly, you are crushed completely against his broad chest.
jay wraps his strong arms around you, burying his face deep into the crook of your neck, holding you so tight it’s almost bruising. you can feel the heavy, erratic thumping of his heart against your ribs, his whole body trembling slightly as he holds you like you’re about to disappear.
"jay?" you squeak out, your hands hesitantly coming up to clutch at the thick fabric of his black hoodie.
"i'm not laughing at you, newbie," jay murmurs against your skin, his voice thick, ragged, and completely devoid of his usual arrogance. he lets out another low, disbelieving chuckle right into your hair, his grip tightening. "i'm just... i'm in complete disbelief. i can't believe you're actually standing here saying this to me."
he slowly draws his head back, keeping his large hands firmly anchored on your waist so you can't move away. his dark eyes are incredibly heavy, looking down at your tear-stained face with a raw, consuming tenderness that completely melts your heart.
"you are such a moron," jay whispers, a soft, beautiful smile finally breaking across his sharp features. "you really thought this was all just a clinical lesson for me? you think i let you straddle my lap for a whole hour because i'm a dedicated tutor?"
you sniff, looking up at him through your lashes. "yunjin said..."
"yunjin was right," jay interrupts softly, his thumb rising to gently wipe away a stray tear from your cheek, his touch unbelievably sweet. "i’ve liked you for weeks, sweetheart. even a month, probably. do you have any idea what it was like for me to sit in that chair and listen to you ramble on about jake sim every single week? i hated it. i hated every single time his name left your mouth. i wanted to throw him across the campus every time you showed me a text from him."
you blink, your heart spiking. "then why didn't you say anything?"
"because i was terrified," jay admits honestly, his jaw clenching slightly as his dark eyes lock onto yours. "you came to me so innocent, so focused on this dream you had of being with him. i was so scared that if i told you how i felt, i would pressure you. i was scared i'd ruin your confidence, or make you feel trapped in the lessons. i didn't want to hurt your feelings. so when you texted me on monday saying you were done..."
he pauses, his breathing turning shallow as he leans his forehead lightly against yours, his hot breath fanning across your lips.
"i was resigned," he whispers, his voice dropping to a gravelly, vulnerable register. "i decided to just let you go to him. i thought, if jake makes her happy, i'll just step back and let her have her perfect boyfriend. it almost killed me, newbie. i haven't slept a full hour since monday."
hearing his confession makes your chest ache with a sudden, overwhelming wave of love. you lift your hands, your fingers tangling deep into the soft, dark hair at the back of his neck, pulling him that final, microscopic inch closer.
"you don't have to let me go," you whisper directly against his lips. "i'm right here."
"yeah," jay murmurs, his dark eyes flashing with that familiar, possessive heat right before his mouth crashes onto yours. "you're right here."
the weight of his confession still hangs in the air of his room, but the heavy emotional armor you’ve both been wearing for weeks has completely shattered. your fingers are knotted so tightly in the dark hair at the back of his neck that your knuckles ache, your body pulling flush against his broad chest until there is absolutely no space left between you.
jay doesn't give you a single second to breathe. the moment your lips touch, the familiar, intoxicating taste of him rushes over you, but this time, the desperate restraint he had been clinging to during the "lessons" is completely gone. his mouth crashes into yours with a raw, possessive hunger that makes your knees instantly turn to water. it isn't a demonstration. it isn't a baseline. it is a fierce, consuming claim that leaves you both dizzy.
"jay," you gasp against his lips, a soft, helpless sound escaping your throat as his mouth slides hungrily down your jawline, his teeth gently nipping at the sensitive skin right beneath your ear.
"i've got you," jay rasps, his voice an incredibly deep, gravelly vibration against your neck. "i've got you, sweetheart. you're not going anywhere."
his large hands slide down from your waist, his broad palms gripping the undersides of your thighs with a sudden, bruising force. with one effortless, powerful lift, jay hoists you completely off the ground. you let out a sharp gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he carries you the three short steps over to his bed, collapsing both of you onto the unmade blankets.
the impact is soft, but the physical heat between you is instantly blinding. jay hovers directly over you, his heavy frame anchoring you to the mattress, his dark hair falling messy across his forehead as he looks down at your flushed, breathless face. his eyes are darker than you’ve ever seen them, blazing with a fierce, protective intensity that makes your heart thump wildly against your ribs.
"look at you," jay whispers, his chest heaving under his black hoodie as his thumb traces the swollen, red curve of your bottom lip. "you're actually here. in my bed. telling me you want me."
"i do," you breathe out, your hands sliding beneath the hem of his hoodie to press your bare palms flat against the warm, defined muscles of his lower back. "i want you so bad, jay."
a low, ragged growl catches in his throat at the touch of your bare skin. he leans back down, his mouth devouring yours in a deep, wet, frantic rhythm that completely shatters the last of your control. his tongue slides possessively over yours, guiding your mouth to open wider, drinking in every single soft, broken moan you make.
the physical friction escalates instantly. jay shifts his weight, his heavy hips settling right between your thighs, the thick, rigid length of his arousal pressing hard through his sweatpants directly against your core. your dress is hiked up around your waist, leaving only the thin fabric of your underwear between your bodies. instinctively, a desperate, white-hot hunger takes over your body, and your hips tilt upward, a slow, heavy grind against his lap as you chase the unbearable pressure.
"fuck," jay groans directly into your mouth, his eyes flying shut as his entire body goes completely rigid at the sudden friction. his hands move to your hips, his long fingers digging into your skin to hold you still, but the desperate, needy roll of your pelvis makes a rough, unvarnished swear escape his lips. "newbie... shit, hold on. you're going to break me."
"no," you whine, your hands slipping out from his hoodie to clutch tightly at his broad shoulders, your eyes fluttering open to look up at him through your lashes. "don't stop, jay. please. i've been thinking about this for weeks."
the admission completely breaks his remaining restraint. jay lets out a sharp, ragged exhale and lets his hips move, matching your upward tilts with a heavy, rhythmic grind of his own. the dry humping is agonizingly perfect, the thick, hard pressure of his length rubbing relentlessly against your hyper-sensitive core through the fabric of his clothes. every single slide makes your head spin, your fingers digging deep into the soft cotton of his hoodie as you arch your back off the mattress, a loud, unvarnished cry echoing through the quiet room.
"yes, just like that," jay murmurs, his voice a ragged, breathless rasp as he buries his face back in your neck, his lips pressing a trail of burning, wet kisses along your collarbone. "let me feel you. god, you're so hot, sweetheart. you feel so fucking good."
he shifts the angle of his hips, grinding harder, deeper, targeting the exact spot that makes your whole body tremble. you lose all track of time, completely drowning in the suffocating heat of his body, the rough friction between your thighs, and the intoxicating, raw intimacy of hearing him lose his mind beneath your touch. his chest is heaving violently against yours, his breathing shallow and rough as his hips thrust down in a fast, desperate rhythm that brings you both dangerously close to the edge.
"jay," you sob out, your head tossing back against the pillows, your core weeping with a desperate, heavy ache that dry humping can no longer satisfy. "jay, please. i don't want the clothes anymore. i want to feel you. really feel you."
jay stops his movement instantly. he draws back, his chest rising and falling in deep, ragged gasps as he looks down at you. his face is flushed, his eyes clouded with a fierce, overwhelming hunger, but beneath the passion, that deep, protective tenderness returns with a beautiful clarity.
"newbie," he whispers, his hands gently framing your face, his thumbs wiping away the tears from your cheeks. "are you sure? your first time... i want it to be perfect for you. i don't want to rush this."
"i'm sure," you say, your voice remarkably steady despite the anxious beating of your heart. you look straight into his dark eyes, your fingers rising to gently trace the tiny pale scar on his nose that had given the lie away. "i love you, jay. i want it to be you. teach me the rest."
a profound, heavy silence settles over the room, the raw emotion of your words melting away the last remnants of the old "lessons." this isn't an educational baseline anymore. this is a confession, a complete surrender, and jay handles it with a reverence that makes your eyes sting with happy tears.
"okay," jay whispers, his voice dropping into a soft, beautifully thick register. "okay, sweetheart."
slowly, deliberately, he sits back on his heels. his large, warm hands move to the hem of your dress, gently and carefully sliding the fabric up over your hips, your waist, and over your head, tossing it onto the floor. his eyes track the movement, his gaze raking over your exposed skin with an unvarnished, breathless admiration that makes you feel completely worshiped. he reaches down, his long fingers hooking into the sides of your underwear, easing them down your legs until you are completely bare beneath him.
"you are so beautiful," jay murmurs, his voice shaking slightly as he leans down to press a soft, lingering kiss to your bare stomach. "absolutely perfect."
he stands up briefly, pulling the black hoodie over his head and kicking his sweatpants away, revealing his broad, heavily defined chest and the thick, white-hot length of his arousal. when he slides back onto the mattress, the sheer, raw heat of his naked skin making contact with yours sends a violent shock of adrenaline through your veins.
he hovers over you again, but this time, he doesn't immediately move to progress things. he takes his time. his large, warm hand slides down your side, his palm resting flat against your hip as he gently coaxes your knees apart, sliding his body between your thighs. he leans down, his mouth sealing over yours in a slow, agonizingly sweet kiss that tastes of absolute devotion. his fingers slide down, finding the slick, dripping heat between your legs, and he uses two fingers to slowly stroke your core, priming you, making sure you are completely prepared for him.
"relax for me," jay whispers against your lips, his thumb applying a steady, heavy pressure that makes your hips instinctively lift. "i'm going to go so slow, sweetheart. if it hurts, you tell me to stop. understand?"
"i understand," you whimper, your fingers tangling into his dark hair, pulling his face down so you can kiss him again.
jay pulls his hand away, the sudden loss of contact making you let out a needy whine, but then you feel the heavy, smooth head of his shaft aligning directly against your tight, wet opening. the sheer thickness of him makes your breath hitch, your hands instantly clutching at the firm muscles of his shoulders.
"look at me," jay commands softly, his voice a low, gravelly purr.
you blink your eyes open, your vision slightly blurry from the sheer intensity of the moment, to find him staring down at you with a consuming, fierce possessiveness. his dark eyes are entirely focused on yours, locking you in place.
slowly, with an agonizingly careful, steady pressure, jay sinks his hips down.
the initial stretch is tight, a sharp, white-hot pinch of discomfort making your eyes widen as a soft, broken gasp escapes your parted lips. your body automatically tenses beneath him, your fingers digging deep into the skin of his shoulders.
instantly, jay stops. he freezes in place, only a fraction of his length inside you, his jaw clenching hard as he battles his own primal urge to thrust. a thin layer of sweat glistening on his skin, but his entire focus remains totally on your comfort.
"i know, i know," jay murmurs sweetly, his face dipping down to press a series of soft, comforting kisses to your eyelids, your burning cheeks, and the tip of your nose. "breathe through your nose, newbie. just like i taught you. let your body adapt to me."
he reaches down, his large hand finding your core again, his thumb rubbing slow, heavy circles against your sensitive skin while he stays perfectly still inside you. the steady, masterful friction slowly melts away the sharp pinch, replacing the discomfort with a deep, heavy wave of slick, throbbing heat. your muscles slowly relax, opening up around him, practically begging for the rest of his weight.
"jay," you whisper, your hips giving a tiny, tentative upward nudge. "more. please."
"good girl," jay rasps, a low, broken hum of absolute approval escaping his chest.
he shifts his hands, wrapping his long fingers securely around your waist, anchoring you to the mattress. slowly, smoothly, he pushes his hips down the rest of the way, burying his entire length deep inside your tight, wet heat. a loud, unvarnished cry tears out of your throat, your legs instinctively wrapping tightly around his waist to pull him even closer as the sheer, overwhelming fullness of him completely consumes your senses.
jay lets out a deep, guttural groan, his head burying themselves into the crook of your neck as he stays completely buried inside you for three long, breathless seconds, letting you adjust to the magnificent weight of him.
"you're so tight, sweetheart," jay whispers, his voice completely ungrounded, shaking with a raw emotion that has absolutely nothing to do with a lesson. "you feel so perfect around me. fuck. you're mine. you know that, right? you're completely mine now."
"i'm yours," you sob out, your hands sliding up his back, feeling the unsteady rhythm of his heart beneath your fingers. "i'm yours, jay."
when he finally begins to move, it is the furthest thing from the clinical, calculated pacing of before. it is slow, incredibly deep, and heavy with a fierce, possessive passion. jay draws his hips back until he is almost entirely out, making you let out a needy, panicked gasp, before sliding back in with a long, smooth stroke that drives straight to the center of your ache.
“ah— jay!” you cry out, your head tossing back against the pillows as the relentless, deep rhythm takes over the small room.
he guides you through every single movement. when your breathing gets too frantic, jay uses his grip on your waist to lift your hips slightly, slowing the pace down, lingering deep inside you until your breath catches in sync with his. his mouth is everywhere — kissing your lips, your jaw, biting softly on your neck, leaving dark, faint marks on your skin that say louder than words exactly who you belong to.
"you're doing so good for me, baby," jay praises you, his voice a heavy rumble right against your ear. his breathing is completely shattered, his chest slick with sweat as it crushes against yours with every single deep, driving thrust. "look at you. you're taking all of me so perfectly. so pretty for me, sweetheart."
the explicit, loving praises send jolts of pure electricity straight down your spine. you grow bolder, your fingers digging into his hips as you match his pace, lifting your pelvis to meet his downward thrusts, creating a flawless, sharp friction that completely breaks his remaining restraint.
the pacing quickly turns heated, the slow tenderness fracturing beneath a sudden, overwhelming wave of raw, unadulterated passion. jay's dark brows furrow in a look of pure agony, swears escaping his lips with every single heavy, pounding thrust. he moves faster, deeper, his hips crashing against yours with a bruising, desperate force that makes the entire bed shake.
"jay... jay, i'm close," you sob out, the tight, hot knot in your lower stomach coiling so tightly you can barely breathe. your fingers tangle desperately into his damp hair, pulling him down, needing his mouth on yours as your climax approaches.
jay snaps his eyes open, his dark gaze locking onto yours with a terrifying, beautiful amount of gravity. "look at me," he rasps, his hips thrusting deep, holding you completely still beneath him. "look at me when you break, sweetheart. let me see you."
you look up through your lashes, staring straight into his cloudless, fierce eyes as he delivers three fast, incredibly deep thrusts. the coiling tension inside you completely snaps, a blinding wave of pure, white-hot release crashing over your entire body. you let out a loud, broken cry, your inner muscles clamping tightly around his length in violent, pulsing spasms.
the sudden, tight friction completely breaks jay's remaining control. he lets out a deep, guttural cry against your mouth, his jaw clenching so hard the veins stand out against his neck as his hips give one final, breathless thrust, burying himself as deep as physically possible inside you as his own release hits him.
jay stays buried deep inside you for a long moment, his chest pressed flush against your back as both of you come down from the high. his lips brush lazy, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulder, like he can’t stop touching you even now.
“are you okay, pretty?” he murmurs, voice rough and low against your skin.
you nod, still catching your breath, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “more than okay.”
he hums in satisfaction and carefully pulls out, immediately rolling you over so you’re facing him. his large hand slides up your side, gentle and possessive at the same time, as he tucks you against his chest. for a while, neither of you speaks. the only sounds are your slowing heartbeats and the distant hum of campus life outside his window.
jay’s fingers trace slow circles on your bare back.
“so,” he says after a long beat, that familiar lazy grin creeping into his voice, “how do you feel now that you’ve graduated from my lessons?”
you let out a soft laugh, hiding your burning face in the crook of his neck. “i feel like an idiot.”
“yeah?” he chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest. “took you long enough to figure it out.”
you pull back just enough to look at him, your fingers brushing the tiny scar on his nose. “why didn’t you say anything sooner? all those weeks… you just kept teaching me like it didn’t kill you every time i mentioned jake.”
jay’s expression softens. he cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin with surprising tenderness.
“because you came to me wanting help to get another guy,” he says quietly. “i wasn’t going to be the asshole who messed with your head while you were vulnerable. even if it sucked. even if i wanted to throw my laptop across the room every time you showed me his texts.”
he leans in and kisses you slowly, deeply — nothing like the heated frenzy from earlier. this one feels like a promise.
when he pulls back, his forehead rests against yours.
“for the record,” he murmurs, smiling again, “you were never going to end up with jake. not after the first time you asked me for a ‘practical example.’ i knew it then. you were already mine.”
you groan, embarrassed but smiling. “you’re so cocky.”
“and you love it.”
you do.
jay pulls the blanket higher over your shoulders and wraps both arms around you, holding you like he’s afraid you might disappear if he lets go. his lips brush your temple.
“no more lessons,” he whispers. “no more pretending. just this. just us.”
you press a soft kiss to his collarbone, already drifting off in the warmth of his embrace.
“just us,” you echo.
as sleep starts to pull you under, you feel jay smile against your hair.
- cortis 6th member / keonho being down bad for you series
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✦ anddddd SCENE🙏🙏🙏 next chapter will be written guys so stay tuned for that 🫰 also i had to put all the insta dms in one cause of the stupid 30 picture limit so MB anyways thank you guys sm for all the love yall show this series and me 🫶 i love yall broskis THIS ONES FOR YALL.
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