He's What You Want, I'm What You Need - SKZ FRATHOUSE part 1, part 2
pairing: fratboy!jeongin x reader(f) x fratboy!seungmin x fratboy!hyunjin
genre: college au, smut, eventual romance (crazy)
special event w my girl @enchantedlov3r2 <3
sypnosis: having had a single boyfriend throughout the span of your life, and that experience ending absolutely disastrously - you decided to take on the easiest approach - to hide underneath a social mask, and to avoid hot guys. especially the second solution. but what happens when you happen to get paired up with not one, but two members of the skz frathouse for a project? will you make it out? will you be able to survive when the rest starts to slowly register themselves in your everyday one by one, till the option of choosing isn't yours anymore.
word count: 10k
warnings: SMUT. dom!seungmin, dom!jeongin, sub!reader, perverse thoughts, jealousy issues, possessiveness, reader is embarrassing and a loser (in a nice way i suppose), lots of internal monologue, frat boys, teasing, they are MEAN, kind of bullying, nerdy interests, unprotected sex(wrap it up), lots of making out, seungmin is a serious case of he doesn't know what he wants, corruption kink (i think...), teaching kink, toying, oral (m and f), fingering, exhibitionism, voyeurism
this chapter is so bad bru, but im just trying to set the ground and stuff. next chapter will be more interesting, i swear.
i hate editing i hate editing i hate editing and proofreading hate proofreading
It's been three days.
Three days since that happened, and your skin burns in memory. Lingering memory, the ones that refuse to wear off no matter how much you try and try to scrub it off.
Eyes, lips, hands, dick.
Dick, dick — and dick.
You couldn't stop thinking about it before — but it's worse now! Pretty sure that you've developed the insane habit of staring at people's pelvis. Well, people, really — it consists only of them. The who-you-must-not-speak-of, because it seems that they have some sort of spider senses, knowing exactly when they cross your mind or when their names happen to articulate out of your mouth; since the first thing that pops up in those situations is their text messages.
Which is a constant now.
They're texting you. Like. Everyday?
Not lovely texts though, barely running errands for them under the guise of that dumbass project. Their errand girl. Hence, why you're here with Jeongin.
Seungmin left about an hour ago, duty calls, or his coach might end him right here and there. Unwilling to leave you alone with his friend, the glare he gave you was cold enough. As if all of this was your fault. As if the uncomfortable coil in his chest was your fault. You're unaware of the latter though, not like he'd ever tell you how he feels. It's stupid and recent, too recent to act on any of it. Did he say stupid?
You couldn’t expect any less from Jeongin either. At least, he treats you a tad kinder than Seungmin, who decided to use you as a stress ball — hands groping and roaming your body like second nature. Driving you nuts when his palms ride a centimetre too high, almost giving you the wrong idea, only to pull back at the last second. Acting bothered, annoyed that you exist after he instigated physical contact.
Unlike Seungmin, Jeongin wants you to initiate it. He’ll brush his hand against yours on purpose, fingers curling absently. Right, absently. Weird, because you were sure he wasn’t fond of skinship. That’s what you heard — rumors before you met him. He likes to give you the idea that his touches are innocent, even when it feels the dirtiest. Offering you the tightest, cutest smile, proudly backing his image as the golden boy of their cult. Though it feels too warm, sometimes you get the idea that he’s faking it, especially when Seungmin is around. His ulterior motives speak through the twitches in his frown to the tongue poking at his cheek.
You can’t tell if they’re easier to deal with alone or together. There has been a weird, simmering tension between you three ever since, despite not having gone further than what happened last time. You’re certain that if there’s already been an awkward tension, it’s just gotten worse. Jeongin's presence next to you is loud, the heat radiating from his body bothers you. You should’ve gone home when Seungmin left, but then you’d be walking the path with him. Is it any better than being sequestered inside Jeongin’s room?
You keep trying to find excuses to excuse yourself, which he quickly finds solutions for. You’ve run out of ideas, falling into a slump at the complete edge of his mattress, as far away from him as possible. Somehow, his existence irritates you as much as it gets you wet. Embarrassingly so, you steal glances you have no control over. Your pitiful attempt at seeming busy with your phone fooling none.
“Noona,” he snaps you out in a sigh. A deep one. Throwing his head back the slightest, he drops his phone onto the pillow, eyes landing on your wide ones. “My eyes, they’re up here. Not down there.”
Oh god. You’re doing it again. He knows — he knows. Of course he would, who wouldn’t notice those perverse eyes. You squeeze your vision shut, face drowning in your palms and growing embarrassment. “I’m not— I’’m sorry. I didn’t mean to look there–”
He stays silent for a second, taking in your shy reaction. A faint smile turning his lips upwards, you can hear the smugness of it. “You didn’t mean to? You sure about that–”
“Yes!”
He hums, nodding along, pretending to believe that. “I think… that you’re thinking about last time.” The flustered scrunch of your nose is nothing short of sweet, he has to continue toying with it. “Honestly, noona. You’re kind of a pervert.” His tone is casual, that doesn’t stop the arrow of accusation from stabbing you.
The word pervert rings an uncomfortable bell, however it twists a delicious shame in your guts. Pathetic, you’re pathetic for getting turned on by the idea of him knowing your dirty secret. He mustn’t… never. No one should ever find out.
“If you keep staring at my pants like that, I’ll assume that you want to do it again.”
It. It’s evident what he’s talking about. It still takes you a moment. A brief moment that feels like hours in your running brain. The innocence in his tone is paradoxical to the light shade dusting his ears. Everything else remains unaffected. But you, of course.
“What?”
You're frozen on his bed, thumbs still hovering the screen of your phone. You hadn't anticipated this. Okay fine, maybe you were hoping that something as such would occur on your first step inside, well, his bedroom. Your excuse is that you were invited for academic reasons! Not to… to–
“I could teach you… how to properly suck dick,” it's flagrant, but he's close now. The flashing images of exactly three days ago playing on your mind. The taste of him, the heaviness of cock hitting the roof of your mouth — his scent, how your jaw ached afterwards — your body heats up, sucking in your bottom lip. The action doesn't go unnoticed, his eyes fly to your bitten lips. “Not calling you sloppy, it was your first time?”
You nod, face growing unbearably hot.
“Then, let me teach you?” Not Seungmin, not anyone else. Just him, Jeongin — he’ll show you how.
Your eyes fly to the condensing soda can on your left, the icy water discolouring the wood of his drawer. Panicked, you can’t get used to it yet. You weren’t even sure if they were going to encourage this again — you should’ve known better. “Jeongin— I don’t know…”
“Noona,” he coaxes, tone taking a manipulative undertone — and you’re aware of that. “Don’t act coy on me now, you’ve swallowed it no issue.” This is desperate, he’s getting desperate despite his cool exterior. Perhaps not as desperate as your melting resolve. You gulp, vision trailing down his body, where he’s sitting in dangerous proximity. He’s half hard, as if the thought had just hit him and he decided to run along with it. Your endearing blinking tightening the strain in his pants. “Come on…”
A heavy palm slides to your wrist, grabbing your phone to settle it next to the can. Face inches from you, he cocks his head to the side, the same now-cold palm scooting up your neck. Cradling your jaw. “You want it?” he asks, observing the subtle-yet-very obvious(unfortunate) signs of arousal shading your expression. Your heart hammers, eyelids dropping shut with a nod. A tiny approval sighing out of your lips, the only confirmation he needed before smiling against your lips. The kiss starts soft, an endeavour at calming your shaking body.
You’re so easily overwhelmed, what is he going to do with you?
Plump lips pull onto your lower ones, fingers digging onto your cheeks, urging your mouth to open for him. The exhale you release is swallowed along with your small moans, thighs quivering shut. He leans towards you, crowding your senses; utterly refusing to separate from your mouth. Your pretty mouth, which he’s got many ideas of using. He can’t let go, pushing you upwards with him, palms finding your waist, his grip strengthens. “Get off the bed,” he murmurs, muffled by the sound of wet whines. His sentence surprisingly registers, following the order mindlessly till your soles make contact with the cold floor. He finally gives you the opportunity to breathe, a string of spit attaching the two of you. “Your knees,” he speaks, using your shoulders to push you downwards. “Hm, you’re pretty.” he compliments, eyeing you on the floor before him. You’re directly positioned to his bulge, the roughness of it now obscene. You gaze up at him through your lashes, he nearly whines at the sight, if it wasn’t for his pride.
“How should I start–?” Your voice is meek, he must be having a wet dream. You haven’t started for shit and he’s throbbing pathetically at your timid eagerness. Timid. He wishes he could tell you that he knows. Fully conscious of the type of person you are — nevertheless, he holds onto the fact. It might prove to be useful in the future, who knows? God knows how you’d react if he told you, probably bolt out and transfer, or drop out. You’re crazy enough for that. He thinks he might go crazier if you stare at him like this any longer.
“Take my pants off,” he instructs, watching your trembling hands tug at his pants. “Slow– it should be sensual. Teasing is hotter.”
“Always?”
He licks his lips, breathing through his nose. “Nah, depends on the mood. If the person’s desperate enough then–”
“Are you? Desperate, I mean…”
“Fuck, are you teasing me?” he curses, the naivety of your tone could be mistaken for innocence if it wasn’t for the darker tint in your pupils. You don’t laugh, but the tiny lift of your cheeks tells him that you’re trying to ease up. Trying.
“Okay, slow then,” you divert the question, hooking your digits onto the waistband of his pants. You roll it down, revealing further skin with each tug. Saliva pools your mouth, reaching his thighs, you let the fabric go. Dropping at his feet, you’re met with his stained underwear. He’s flustered, more than he’d like to admit, leaking precum all over the cloth. You’re too entranced to care, adoring it beyond limit, making his situation worsen under your heavy gaze.
“Don’t just look, do something.”
“‘M sorry, was waiting for your words…” you mutter, a silent sound rumbles out of his throat. He wants nothing more than to tear his boxers off and shove it down your throat — have you choke on it till you brim with tears. He chooses to close his eyes instead, swallowing his flowing spit. Slow. He told you to take it slow, how long can he follow his own advice?
He sighs, ragged, “Come closer, yeah like that–” you scoot towards him, cheek pressed to his built thigh. “Just… kiss it, mhm–” his voice dies in his throat, curling into a moan the second you pamper him. Lips resting against his tip, you watch him. This is pornographic, spreading your mouth open, blowing warm air through the fabric. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing, simply hoping to recreate those porno scenes which you’ve touched yourself to countless of times. Praying that one day — you’d get the real thing to test on.
Those accumulated twenty-years-something of bad luck mounted to something, in the end, you aren’t as unlucky as you had presumed to be. Perhaps, you were a monk in your past life? Those decades of keeping chaste the reason for today's lust.
“Yn—” he calls, bringing you back to Earth, far from the mountain you probably meditated on throughout the last life. “You’re zoning out.”
You wince through your teeth, nails digging into the smooth fabric of his boxers, “Sorry– sorry, this ain’t because of you I swear–”
“I know,” he replies, patience wearing thin. He knows it’s a you thing by now, but if you don’t move in the next few seconds, he might lose composure entirely.
“Imma uhm…” you mumble, eye dropping to his erection once again, chewing on your lips — you finally free him, “continue…”
You’ve seen him before. One time isn’t enough. You’d die to see him everyday. Without the haste and daze of last time — you’re given a proper look of him, hard and wet. So fucking wet, he’s glistening. You try to say something, however it fails to come out. Staring in stupid awe, you can’t tear your eyes from his cock. No matter how many women have touched or seen him, there’s something about your dumbfounded glint that makes you addicting. Somewhat, never failing to appear as naive despite being anything but that. He can’t find it in himself to scold you for staring for this long, instead, he allows you. Tip flushed, twitching embarrassingly.
You gulp, constantly gulping from the excess of saliva forming. Though, you could do something much better with it. Tentative fingers find the base, gliding your fingertip across the prominent vein. Feeling the slick skin under yours. “God, what’re you doing–”
“Testing,” you reply, barely paying mind to him. Your palm is next, completely wrapped around him, fingers not lengthy enough to bind the entire girth. So big, so hot and heavy — different from the silicones you’re used to. This was in your mouth. Your pulse quickens at the mere thought. “Can I–?” you gaze up, lashes fluttering as you bring your mouth closer, making a kissy motion.
What the fuck– you’re trying to kill him. Inexperienced, his ass. He’s thankful that Seungmin isn’t here to experience this, glad to have you for himself and his selfish desires. “Yeah–” the worry of Seungmin is wiped from his brain with a kiss on his tip, shuddering under your experimental fondness. “Tongue.” You follow his guidance, prodding your tongue out. “The underside… it’s sensitive, ah shit,” sensitive. Has he always been this sensitive? To cry out from a lick alone —? He can’t recognise himself. The saltiness of precum takes over your senses, moaning at the familiar taste — it vibrates through him, sending goosebumps across his flesh. His mouth flies open, about to tell you to actually open up before he finds himself grasping your jaw wide himself — the process of learning fading with his patience. He needs it. Needs it badly, he might fucking die.
You read his mind, perhaps you possess those psychic skills too, his own head running as delusional as yours the second your lips wrap tightly around him. Welcoming him inside. You’re really rubbing off on him. You swallow the tip, brows pinching in concentration. In those videos… they usually — your tongue moves underside, laying it flat the best you can. Smiling against him, he makes a sound. Victory. Throwing his head back the deeper you take him, warm and wet tongue sliding underneath at a torturous pace.
You nearly reach halfway, his reactions feeding you on. This is right, you’re confident. You’re doing good, well, amazing — however, he hits the back of your throat — your jaw locks, a sudden sting spreading at your gums. You ignore it, getting some more in… halt.
You gag.
Gagged. You.
Your eyes fly open, gaping at him. He didn’t notice. Okay. OK.
You try again, squeezing your eyelids shut in pressured focus. “Egh–”
You panic. Lashes battling open for a quick solution, eyes landing on his face, back to his cock, back to his face and vice versa. Nostrils flaring in ragged breathing.
“Something’s wrong?” he asks, voice loud and ringing in your ears. Your imagination, this is your imagination. “Noona?”
“No.” It’s quick, absolute. Leaving no room for further questions. You pull back — spit attached to his flushed skin, offering him a tight smile — making an excuse of using your hands to jerk the rest.
Halt!
Isn’t no hands better? You’ve read that somewhere… No, no — no gagging is undeniably better. Sacrifices are to be made for everyone’s benefit. Sacrifices… your hands wrap around the base, jerking him off in sloppy motions as your head bobs off his cock. Keeping just the tip in. For security measures.
You could do it the other day! Why not now?!
He observes. Observes you in a way that has your skin crawling, reading you beyond your safety measures. Eyes narrowing, he inhales. “Something is wrong. Look at you, what happened?”
Wow, damn okay Yang-LookAtYou-Jeongin.
Your lips purse, lining flat on your face. He doesn’t think that you realised that your cheeks were puffed in subtle disappointment, totally bummed. You’re pouting. It plays at his heart, skipping a ridiculous beat to see you wear this expression with his cock in your hand. Still jerking him off in small motions. “You want to use your hands? Jaw hurts?”
“I want to use my mouth,” you interject, shaking your head. “But I have–”
“A gag reflex?” he cuts you off midway, “I know.”
“Huh,” your head tilts, offended and flustered by your own truth. You knew, it hurts to hear it in such an unbothered tone though. He should really drop the aloof wannabe bullshit.
You don’t know what you were expecting, nonetheless, a grin wasn’t on your list. It’s faint, growing bolder the longer he stares at you, tongue peeking out to swipe on his bottom lip. “Choking on it,” he begins; his knuckles graze your cheek, moving the sticking hairstrands, “is part of the fun, noona.”
He sits back, spreading his legs wider for you to nestle in. One hand in your hair, the other supporting his leaned body, he pushes you towards him. Close enough to have your breath fanning over him, heavy and shallow. You swallow, his fingers digging into your roots, biting the inside of his cheeks.“Try again, I’ll guide you. Properly.”
—
“What’re you guys up to?” Seungmin’s voice rings through the phone speaker, Jeongin leans down against the headboard, almost hearing the frown in Seungmin’s question. Sighing, he blinks ahead, wondering if he has to entertain this conversation right now?
“Nothing,” though, that nothing sounds like everything.
“Nothing?” Seungmin repeats, skeptical in his approach. Jeongin hums, his small grunt to get comfortable vibrating through his microphone.
“Yeah, she just left.”
Seungmin pauses. Steps faltering, checking the time on his screen. “This early? It’s still five p.m–”
The smirk that edges on Jeongin’s face is involuntary, but he wishes Seungmin was there to see it. It’s fine, he’ll hear it in his voice. “What can I say hyung? She probably had things to tend to. She’s busy, y’know?”
“Yeah. Right,” Seungmin replies, growing a mild itch in his throat. The annoying kind. “The girl who has porn as a hobby is busy, sure.” He shields his eyes, the sun is blazing for no fucking reason. For god’s sake, it’s five not noon. He left around three, and in two hours you’re gone. Something must’ve happened. Not like he gives a shit, “I met with Changbin hyung, said there’s a party this friday. You coming?”
“Who doesn’t go to the party they, themself, host? Everybody is there to see us, what’s the point in not going–”
“Yn,” Seungmin breaks in, and suddenly Jeongin falls into silence. “I’m inviting her.”
Jeongin’s certain that there’s a bug crawling on his face. Blunt nails graze his cheek, moving to the back of his nape to ease the crawl on his neck instead. “Why?”
“Why? Isn’t it obvious,” Seungmin replies, tucking the phone an inch away. “She needs to get used to the circle, or else she’ll be an awkward idiot who runs at every sliver of contact–”
“Then hold a fucking meeting bro,” Jeongin’s tsks, “How is a party the appropriate place?”
“Oh?” Seungmin is the one to laugh now, disbelief washing over him. “You care about what’s proper now?” Jeongin is about to retort but Seungmin is quick to cut him off, not sparing him the opportunity to retaliate. “Listen, I don’t care about your possessive stunts. You agree or not, not my problem. I’m meeting with Hyunjin tomorrow, I’ll go see yn then. They share a class, did you know that?”
Well, no. It didn’t matter either way, Hyunjin never goes to class. Once a blue moon whenever he feels like it.
The call ends. Jeongin scoffs, skull throbbing with an impending headache. Do they have to do this? Everytime?
He falls back, staring at the ceiling — pupils drifting to his phone in hand. Should he call you? But you just left, it’ll seem needy. It’ll seem like more than it actually is. If he could count his sighs, he’d be in mathematics instead.
What can he do?
—
You smile. You don’t mean to — but you do. Grinning like an idiot at your opened locker for the past minute, hand hovering on your photobook. You stare. Stare and giggle. Have you ever been this lucky? Like—
“Are you crazy?”
“Eh–!” your soul escapes for a fragment of a second, slamming your locker shut at the sudden disturbance. Eyes gaping to meet a familiar face. Seungmin. “What the fuck, what's your probl—” he raises a brow, immediately catching your slip, you smile. Tightly, “–eeem, what brings you here? Kim Seungmin…”
Seungmin scoffs, a grimace forming on his face, poorly hiding his amusement. “You.”
“Me?” Stunned would be an understatement. You had expected a snap back from him, maybe shrugging you off at the mere thought. But you?
“Don't feed your sick fantasies. I’m here business related,” he sighs, flicking your forehead. Cliché. If you knew better you'd think he stole that from a romance drama. “Come on, let's go.”
“Go where–?” you try, but he grabs you before your sentence gets the chance to voice out, the first few steps clumsy and awkward till you find a common pace. Still, his fingers wrap around your wrist, guiding you towards him. His hand is warm, kind of rough on the surface. But undeniably softer than Jeongin’s. You can’t help but notice the lotion of his hand cream, eyes fixing the contact then ahead — the back of his head — falling into a brief silence, except for your steps and the heavy commotion of students around.
This got to be another of his errands. How cruel, you aren’t allowed to go to class anymore. You think — but then he abruptly stops. Not literally, only slowing his steps so that he matches your pace instead. Slow enough to call it stopping. “Hey,” he says, although your attention is already on him. He nips on his lip, you’d claim he looks perplexed right now. “There’s a party this Friday. You’re coming.”
“I’m coming?”
No. No. Run that back.
He didn’t say, are you coming? He didn’t even say, you coming?
Just, you coming. As in… “An assertion?”
“Yes. Definitive, no argument.” he replies, nodding.
“Me– like, at a party? Fraternity party?”
“Yes, you at a frat party. Our party–”
“Okay.”
“Huh?” he retorts, head tilting. He squints, “Okay? Just okay?”
You hum, shrugging. “I mean, what did you want me to say?”
To freak out. To reject. To rejoice, maybe. There’s many things he wanted you to say, and many things he imagined you saying on his way here. Okay wasn’t anticipated though. Fuck that, he didn’t envisage all the possibilities. Amateur move, Kim Seungmin.
“Oh, my class is here. I’ll go then,” you point out, your stroll had somehow brought you to your initial destination. Somehow, but also somehow, he happens to step inside with you. “What are you doing… Are you following me? That’s kind of freakish–”
His chest puffs in total disbelief that you could come to such a foolish conclusion, glancing at his surroundings. “Yah, full of yourself, aren’t you?” he sneers, pushing you aside at the doorway. However, he doesn’t walk past, choosing to stay here mushed against you. Blocking the pathway. Squeezing your shoulders in defense at his sudden rudeness. He’s always rude though. “I’m not here for you.”
“You said otherwise earlier–” your mouth speaks before your brain thinks, lashes battling at the realisation. Lips tucked into an awkward line, you glance at him. Practically seeing the fumes of his hurt ego flying out of his ears in huge smokes. “Sorry. It came out as wrong–”
“You’re seriously trying to piss me off,” You fuck once and now you act all mighty. He can’t believe this shit. He backs up, giving you the impression of personal space for a first. Alas, he’s as quick to close that distance, backing you up against the edge of the entrance. Your vision runs to the nearby students, the crowd who blatantly ignore what’s happening. You can’t tell if you’re thankful or hateful towards their response. His cologne hits you, then the tint in his eyes. As if he’s wondering what to do with you, that he couldn’t decide yet and needs time to think about it. You’re in public, what is he doing– “You…” he mutters, voice dropping with his gaze, “You get on my nerves, s’much. Why do you–”
“Ahem, what’s going on here?” someone speaks over your shoulder. Not someone you recognise, but almost like you heard it somewhere. It’s on the tip of your tongue. “Kim Seungmin-ssi, is this the correct behaviour for a lecture room?”
Seungmin rolls his eyes, stepping away for scarcely two inches. “Piss off, have you got nothing to do than play rules and regulations cop on campus?” They hover on either side of you, caging you inside with no prior care of your existence. You’re invisible, completely-utterly-transparent. “Last thing I knew, Visual Arts wasn’t part of your major? Focus on maths, yeah?”
Maths? Mathematics? Who in their right mind… oh.
You peek over your shoulder, catching a brief glance at the person standing behind you. He’s broad, that’d be an understatement. You’ve only seen him from afar before, dark hair falling right above his eyes. Your vision meets. Lingering for a second, scanning you, a spark of a smile flashes on his face. You tense up. He lifts his attention back to Seungmin, “Must you be so harsh? I walked Hyunjin off to his class, what’s so wrong in accompanying a friend.”
Their conversation falls to deaf ears, your sole focus is on escaping whatever this is. Their beef or clash, no matter what they call it. “What’s gotten you this heated?” The guy questions, tone sarcastic. You couldn’t careless, carefully trying to step aside, however, rough fingers find your shoulder. Glueing your steps to the ground. He tuts, keeping you in place. “Where are you going? You’re as guilty of misbehaviour in class, I should bring you to the office.”
“What? No–!” you begin, shoulder squirming out of his grasp. You’re a victim here!
Quickly facing Seungmin for help, which he fails to aid. Aren’t they in the same frathouse — what the fuck is this weird tension, shouldn’t it be — are they messing with you?
“Changbinnie,” another one. This is hell, you died in your senior year of high school and you’re in hell. Changbin is pushed from behind, colliding into your back. Feeling every definition of muscle through his shirt. Ouh shit. Ok no. Not the moment. The collision creates a domino effect, throwing you onto Seungmin’s chest. Your fingers trail past his chest, the bump of his abs flexing underneath your fingertips, eyes squeezing shut, this couldn’t get any more cringe. Wincing at the unfortunate situation. You exhale into Seungmin, lashes fluttering open to focus your eyesight. Finding the culprit of the fall, your mouth dries.
Hwang Hyunjin who never goes to class.
Has gone to class.
—
One hour left, one hour of this torment left.
Not to get you wrong, you love your major and classes. Nails clicking against the keys of your keyboard with utmost satisfaction, the lesson of your professor, something you’d enjoy on a regular day. If it wasn’t for the intense stares punching holes at your back. You’d seriously be enjoying this class.
Each time you happen to look to your side, you find leering eyes fixed upon you. You swallow, perhaps you’re imagining it. But then, he’d look at you too. Hyunjin, who never ever interacted with you beforehand, keeps smiling and blinking at you as if you were lifelong friends. Your imagination has been top notch lately, you’ve got to admit it. Though, the realness of the situation hit you as early as the class ended, and a girl accidentally bumped into you. Splattering her coffee everywhere on your shirt. She apologised, which you understood. However, she proceeded to give you the nastiest eye before walking over to Hyunjin, letting him throw an arm onto her shoulders.
Leaving you with a wet and sticky shirt for the rest of the day. The bubbling urge to find and curse off the two of them (and Seungmin, Changbin included for scaring you) tipped you for a hot thirty minutes after the incident, sucking in on your teeth in sulking grumbles on the way back to your dorm. To wipe that grin off his dirty handsome face.
Though, a strange sense of fulfillment suits you as you swipe your student ID in, finally releasing a much needed breath. You replay your day, it was bad. Yeah. But definitely not your worst day. If anything…
“I got invited to a party!!” you exclaim, kicking the door shut. Throwing your bag onto the couch, arms flailing in the air. You’ve been dying to do that, except that Seungmin was there, can not be caught rejoicing like this. Especially by him, that would’ve for sure fed his jock pride.
This is the widest you’ve smiled since yesterday, sensing your social status boosting despite your ultimate goal of keeping it on the low. It completely fades from your mind. Pathetic, but attending a college party has been on the top of your to-do list ever since you started. Right under losing your virginity. In one week, strike, two boxes ticked. Not yet, but soon. Soon enough.
You jolt to your bedroom, yanking the closet open. It must be there, crouching to the bottom, you rummage through the pile of clothing. “Where…” muttering under your breath, the tip of your fingers finally reaching it. A paper bag, pulling it out, the content falls onto your mattress. “Which one,” there’s two dresses that you have never worn before. Having brought them for these types of special occasions, they’ve been catching dust within your closet. Smoothing the fabric with your palms, you gape. Which…
An abrupt vibration in your pocket knocks you out. You can’t allow yourself to be surprised anymore, phone calls have been your routines lately. Reading the contact info, Yang Jeongin, you swipe the screen. “Hello.”
There’s a momentarily silence, a breath taken and a shuffle. “Hi–?”
“Sup,” he thuds his head against his bedroom’s wall, grimacing at the slight sting.
Sup. Yeah, yeah, okay. “I’m good, why’d you call?” there’s a subtle groan on the other side, you assume he’s trying to get comfortable — but the sound… It's so similar to last time. Your ears warm, slapping your cheek to snap out of it. He chuckles, almost innocently.
“Are you in a battle? What’s with the strange noises?”
“No…” you reply, biting on your nail.
He hums, pausing. “Actually, I–” What’s with him? Acting like that is out of character. Jeongin, snap out of it!
“Did Seungmin ask you?”
“About?” you ask, “Oh, you mean the party. He did, why?”
“You sound happy about it,” he mentions, arising confusion in your throat. You hadn’t even noticed your voice picking up or anything, how’d he tell? “I mean— you’re easy to read.”
“Hey,” you tsk, does audacity come along with being famous? You won’t end like them, trust.
If you become famous.
Maybe. Unlikely.
“What are you going to wear?” The question hits both of you at the same time. Impeccable timing, you’d say. A mistake of a question, he’d say. Seeming too curious for his own good.
“Wooh, Yang Jeongin, do you actually have a sixth sense?” You’re in awe, your scenarios were likely right. They can read your mind. Wait– no! That’d be awful. No, no mind reading. Begone!
“I have, uhm. Two choices, I haven’t decided yet.”
“Send them to me.”
A beat passes. A fly gets brutally slapped dead by your fan.
“Why…?”
Why? Ah, he didn’t think this far. Seriously, is he looking too deep into this?
“I’ll help you choose. Don’t you… want the help of a party connoisseur?”
You shiver. What’s with the tone, is he possessed?
“Sure, I’ll hang up and send you–”
“Can’t we just– video call?” You’re on the verge of replying, but he shuts the idea down, his laughter rising through the phone. “Kidding, I don’t have time for this. I really don’t have time for this, I got practice and stuff to go to.”
“But it’s past eight–”
“Are you assuming that I should be in bed by eight?” He’s in fact, in bed, at eight. “I’m grown, the hell.”
“I didn’t say anything,” you mumble, forehead creasing at his sheepish rambles. “I’m hanging up.”
“Hang up then,” he mumbles back, however the beep screams at your ears before you find the opportunity to end the call.
He hung up. “How strange…” facing the ceiling, you suck on your teeth. “Are they doing drugs out there?” Most likely, what else to expect from those people.
—
He ended up calling you again, getting on video call at last, not as busy as he tried to perceive as. “They texted last minute, practice was cancelled.”
As if you’d believe that, though you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt. Now, you’re stuck playing dress-up-doll with Jeongin, telling you to turn around for the fifth time this evening. “How long do I have to keep doing this,” you complain, the bottom of your feet aching to sit on your much comforting bed.
“A little more,” he replies, voice low, it unfortunately rumbles in the pit of your stomach. You’ve been growing shy for the past minutes. He stares intently, awakening the nerves in your body. You wish he’d stop already and let you ‘sleep’. Today was tiring enough, you have a routine. You’d like to complete that routine. A warm familiar haziness spreads through your legs, you absolutely need to do it now. Addiction, but it's your addiction and he’s being an obstruction.
“Please, I wan’ sleep.” You whine unintentionally, impatience bubbling your throat. “Jeongin.”
You see him visibly swallow, eyes snapping to his own reflection briefly then back to you, nodding. “The second dress is better, wear that one.”
The statement breaks your train of thoughts, skeptical, rucking at the skirt of the dress. “Is that so? I thought this one was kinda ugly… I preferred the other.”
It’s modest compared to the other option, awkwardly falling off your body, the sleeves sticking to your arms. However, he tuts, shutting up the thought. “Trust me, yeah? Don’t want you to look ugly there, noona.”
Still. “Are you sure…?”
“Hundred percent.”
You hum, pondering on the dress laying flat on your mattress. If he says so. “All right then… I’ll go to sleep now.”
He blinks, looking at the time. He makes a face, one that hints that he wants to say something, though chooses not to. Humming back at you. “M’kay, bye.”
You wait a few seconds, giving him the opportunity to say whatever he wants to. He doesn’t grasp it, finally getting to hang up.
Putting your phone aside, a notification catches your attention. Spreading a smile on your face.
Jeongin:
night, sleep well
—
You’re going nuts.
The party starts at nine p.m.
Three p.m. you decided to take a power nap. Sounds corny, but reddit told you to do it. Yes, you searched for how to prepare for your first party…
How could you trust redditors for anything related to real life!
Six p.m. you woke up. Had one hour for an entire body shower(the hardcore kind), shave, wash your hair, oil up. Not literally.
Seven p.m. you started ironing your clothes while simultaneously doing your makeup, seven forty you had to do your hair. Everything was a mess.
Eight p.m. you ran into your roommate while searching for the purse you aimlessly discarded on the couch somewhere. Two past eight, she asked you, “Where are you going–?” with evident surprise in her eyes that you’re going somewhere. Dressed like that.
“A party–”
She flinched at the word party leaving your mouth, unable to associate the two entirely unrelated topics together. You and party.
Her pupils raked over you, taking in your distress. “Do you… need help?”
Lately, you’ve been wanting to kiss her so bad. Nodding furiously, “Yes!”
In thirty minutes, she managed to do whatever you were hopelessly trying to do for the past hours. Maybe she’s not as evil as you thought, perhaps she’s been turning into an angel through your manifestations and behind-the-doors chakra healing guidance.
“I was about to head out, but like.” she sighs, smoothing your shoulders. Staring at you from the mirror, “You’re a pretty lost cause…”
No, she’s demonic. You withdraw your words.
“Are you going to that frat party? The stray kids one,” she asks, and you peek at her, nodding. “It was weird when they came over last time. Have fun, but be careful okay? There’s rumors about them, heard they’re dickheads underneath the glam.”
Honestly, you knew about this. It’s pretty obvious, anyone with a working brain would be able to correlate college guys and a fraternity to be assholes. “It’s okay, don’t worry about me.” You’re aware, however, that’s what you desire. Nobody could clutch your claws off this opportunity except yourself.
“Hmm, I’ll get going then.” she says, grabbing her keys. Looking at you again, “Oh uhm, also— what’s with the…” she starts, peering at your attire before shaking her head. “Forget it. I suppose a pretty face could fix that…”
“What?” you call back, not hearing the last few words. She doesn’t reply, only escaping through the door, leaving you in confusion.
—
“What the fuck are you wearing?” Blunt. Sharp. And very rude. Extremely rude, even coming from him.
You’re pulled to the side, shielding you and the perpetrator of ruining your mood from the outside world. The barringly loud, outside world. “Are you trying to embarrass me?”
Your mouth opens, closes then opens back up. You don’t mean to sound childish, but, “That’s mean.”
Seungmin slowly tilts his head back, fingers rubbing smooth lines on his neck. Opting for a deep inhale, “This is a party, why are you– what is this? Are we going to church?”
He’s not holding you too roughly, but it still hurts. Probably his tone, you don’t like it. You kind of do, but you hate it more than you like it. Oh, fuck him actually.
Eleven past nine, you pushed Seungmin away. You pushed Kim Seungmin away. Ignoring his shouts of your name, making it into the crowd because you refuse to go home, and you refuse to let anyone ruin this for you. It escalated so fast, you barely recall how you ended up tipsy at the bar, alone. Trying out different cheap mixtures of alcoholic punches found on the table.
You aren’t drunk, just enough to lower your inhibitors and not feel like a total outcast on your own. You can tell some people are shooting you weird looks, gazing at your attire in quiet whispers. Fuck if it mattered, they are back to their initial actions a minute later.
You might hate Seungmin for this. How could he— when he’s the one who…–
He fills your mind though, relentlessly hearing him despite his absence. He couldn’t bother to at least notice your efforts, one flaw and he’s mad. There’s nothing wrong with your dress. Except for its length, the white colour, the long sleeve… Maybe not for a party, you admit. No reason to be this rude about it, he’s mean. “Mean…” you cross your arms over the counter, watching the lights bounce off the silky white sleeves. This is not fun at all. You chew on your lips, wearing an absent pout, “Just one more.”
“Should you be drinking that much?” a voice drifts from the left, a guy pulling the stool next to you to hop on.
“I can handle it, mind your own busin–” you reply, though, you shut up as you take in his appearance. It’s the guy you bumped into at Seungmin’s dorm the other day.
“Hm, then, let me pour you one? If you can handle it,” he smiles, sweet and kind. Wow, are they really roommates? Is this a yin and yang situation, opposites create chemistry type of shit?
“I suppose that we know each other? Just one encounter tho, you were in a hurry that day.”
“Oh, that…” you mumble, rubbing your palm across your forehead. Swearing when you remember you’re wearing makeup, quickly snatching your hand off your skin. “I’m sorry about that day– I should’ve been careful.”
“No worries, I don’t take things to heart.”
You wish others would take notes. “What’s your name? I’m Felix, you know that though. Right?”
“I do–” you tell him your name, your major and a bunch of unnecessary information. Never the necessary ones, fortunately, the state that you’re in doesn’t matter — locking your secret is wired in your brain. He’s unsurprisingly talented at small talk, showing interest in whatever nonsense you’re spurring at him. You’re certain that you’re making a fool of yourself as you speak, he laughs. Voice deep, but his cackles are lighthearted, it’s making your head lighter. Almost forgetting about your conflict with Seungmin.
“You’re cute,” he eases out, laying his head onto his knuckles, the other brushing your cheek. Hell, when did he start touching you–? You’re unsure. Shit, you’re drunker than you assumed. Flushing underneath the contact, you fight to open your eyes, him shifting towards you does the job. “Funny too. Who comes to a party dressed for a picnic,” he chuckles, staring right at your dazed gaze.
“Yongbok?”
Felix looks upright, his smile widening into a huff. “Changbin,” his lips part, you find yourself staring at his teeth.
“You got cute canines,” you slur, completely out of it. “Funny? Me? Thank you… you acquire this skill from being a loser, like… Not calling myself a loser tho— that’s, that’s lame. Do you find it lame? But you know what’s lamer–” you hiccup, pointing your finger up to make a declaration. “Kim Seungmin!”
Yn. Stop.
Felix interchanges a glance with Changbin, “Record this, quick.” Amused sounds rumbling out of them as Changbin presses record.
“Kim Seungmin. He brings out anger I didn’t know I had… I hate him so much, well—” your head bobs back, the two of them gaping at you, “I don’t… low-key… he makes me so, horny. He’s so freaking hot, I want to pounce on him whenever he gets angry. Shiiit, yall seeing blurry too?” Your forehead drops, banging with the counter, wincing in pain.
“Send it to the group chat, this is priceless–”
“No need,” Changbin’s phone is snatched. “I’ve already seen it,” Seungmin speaks over, a grimace written on his face. He deletes the video from Changbin’s gallery, earning a low whistle from the guy. Felix can’t hide his curious holler, smirk permanent on his expression. Tossing Changbin’s phone at him, he reaches for you, which Felix halts him.
“But, I was having fun with her?”
The twitch in Seungmin’s jaw shows enough, returning the sarcastic tone. “Too bad, she’s mine tonight.”
Felix shrugs, surrendering for now. Allowing Seungmin to push you over his shoulder, awake enough to grumble at the suddenness of the action. He’s surprised to hear nothing from Changbin, staying oblivious to his presence on purpose. He’s not up to any of this bullshit, his mistake for letting you leave earlier. Should’ve chained you up to him, no matter how upset you were.
“Hmm, those shoulders–” you mumble, jerking your head back into his neck. He shudders, what on earth. “Seungmin?”
“You recognise me by my shoulders, weirdo.” He replies, softer now. Not carrying the animosity of before, he seemed to have calmed down.
“You’re a bully, what’s worse. A weirdo or a bully?”
He rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “You must really be drunk to talk to me like this…”
“No, I talk to you like this all the time. In my head–”
“Shut up, you’re heavy. You talking adds to your weight,” he grunts, climbing the stairs. You pucker your lips, frown creasing.
“I am?”
He thinks about it. He can’t believe that he’s thinking about it, the words hardly rumbling out of his throat. “No, I’m lying.”
“I heard that,” you giggle, clinging to him, missing a stair.
“Focus, we’re both gonna fall–”
“I’m focused,” you’re quick to say, eyes wide now. Fixing him. He gives you a side eye, muttering about how creepy you’re acting. “On you.”
He snorts now, a sense of triumph washing over you for succeeding at pulling a laugh out of him. “Quit that, timidity suits you better. Like a scaredy cat, or a kicked puppy.”
Your answer dies with the echoing music, landing upstairs. He opens a bedroom door, checking inside before urging you to follow. The sight of the room earns heavy blinking from you. Is this the genre of room people hook up in at those famous parties?
“Come here,” he instructs, guiding you to sit on the bed. “You’re all drunk, you probably won’t remember this.” he says under his breath, kneeling down, brushing your skirt up your legs. He sighs, palm sliding across your leg to your ankle. “Easy,” he says, noticing the tension in your muscles. His fingers move, unclasping your shoes with uncharacteristic tenderness. Eyes occasionally meeting your face, engraving your expression to memory.
Fuck, fuck, hell, what the hell, shit, what. God no, this is turning you on. Stop, stop.
Both your heels are gone, he soothes your aching legs. You breathe heavy, the kindness doing things to your brain. Sobering up, your eyes close, feeling every glimpse of patience in which he’s touching you. Caressing is the proper word.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, on his knees before you. You gulp, the sincerity in his voice causing a shakiness in your hands. His attention darts to your fingers curling into the sheets. He grasps your wrist, bringing your palm to his cheek, leaning into the touch. “I can be nice too. Is that what you’d like? Or, do you prefer when I’m mean. It makes you horny?”
He’s teasing you. You should be used to it, but it renders you unbearably hot. You shake your head, denying his insights. He grins, sickeningly sweet with a mocking undertone. Standing up, he pockets your phone out of your purse. “I’ll be right here, call me if anything happens. Rest up–” he proposes, however, you hold onto his shirt before he gets the opportunity to disappear. The alcohol might’ve evaporated out of your body, his attitude enough to shake you up. Spooky, you want more.
You want, “You. I want you–”
“You’re drunk–” when did he care about someone being drunk? Countless of drunk hookups, but your consent is the first thing that flew to his mind.
“I’m fine, I am sober. Please, Seungmin?”
He curses, faltering on his steps. Hesitant between you and the door, your plea looping in his head. “Get a grip, Seungmin.” he breathes out, pausing before you as your fingers tighten around his shirt, subtly pushing him towards you. “You–” God, self control has never been his strongest virtue.
“Please?”
Then, his lips are on you faster than you’re able to process. Sweet, he also tastes of alcohol. He must’ve had a drink or two, you want more of it. Drowning in the haziness he induces you with. “You taste of everything, had fun playing tester?” he says, the motion of lips smacking muffling his question. Not like he was expecting an answer. He’s hungry, hungry to receive all of you. Swallowing each of the noises you whimper out, allowing the tiniest gap for you to breathe in and out. His mouth glides to the lining of your jaw; trailing searing, open-mouth, kisses to your neck.
“Hmm,” you moan out at the feel of his teeth nipping at your skin, arms wrapping around his body for any form of support and restraint, for yourself. He bites down, you yelp, thighs closing from need.
Your phone vibrates, though you pay no mind, thoughts elsewhere entirely. He does, peeking at the screen to find Jeongin’s contact. Seungmin shuts the device up, grabbing his to turn on ‘do not disturb’, he has you all for himself. No way he’d give up on this opportunity. Your whine at the loss of contact gathers his attention, palms digging into the loose fabric of the dress. Suddenly, it makes sense. Brain picking up the clues, his shoulders rigid. “Who picked that dress?”
“Eh?” you ponder on his question, searching for your inhibitions to answer. “Oh, Jeongin–”
He laughs, dryly. “No wonder. Of course he did,” he should probably thank Jeongin for this, as much as he would’ve preferred that you look pretty tonight. This gave him the chance to get you alone. “Next time, ask me instead.” he expresses, however, his vision falters on your face, just now noticing the efforts you’ve put in for tonight. Pretty. Pretty? You’re pretty as hell— why didn’t he realise?
“Hey,” you poke at him, catching his attention. “Eat me out.”
He lets a beat past, processing. “You’re bolder, are you still drunk?”
You shake your head, cradling his face. “I just… really want you to.”
“You’re getting me hard, acting like that.” he rasps, your eyes drifting to his pants in conclusion.
“Oh…” you slur, almost pathetic in how endearingly you stare at his bulge. Your panties stick to your cunt, slick fluids drenching it. This is the hornier you’ve ever been, he grabs the hint, rucking your skirt the entire way up to your stomach.
“Stupid dress,” he mutters, the fabric getting in his way. You giggle, he shoots you a look but it does nothing at intimidating you. Not when he’s being so nice. And cute. Nice and cute. Spreading your knees apart, he nestles in, being met head on with your aching pussy. “Have you been this wet since earlier?” he comments, biting his cheek in contemplation. Your stomach jumps at the question, answering him. His lips are tender, planting kisses to the junction of your thigh. You gasp, responsive like no one else, urging him to try and coax more out of you.
“Hurry, no teasing– need it now,” you egg on, hand flying to the edge of your panties, hardly inching underneath the cotton.
He listens, to your shock. Raising your legs to tug the panties off. Your hand rests on your pelvis, which he grabs, pushing your fingers into his mouth. “I–”
He sucks on them, loud and wet slurps. “Touch yourself, needy girl.” he commands, watching you comply with whatever he says. Wet fingers spreading yourself for him, putting on a show at traveling to your sobbing hole. He observes till he can’t anymore, jolting awake as his mouth makes contact with your cunt. Punching a keen sound from your agape lips. He moans into you, wrapping his lips onto your clit, sucking onto the bud with much eagerness. “This is how you wanted it?” he slurs, not hearing shit of what he’s blabbering about, getting overdriven by pleasure the second he laps downwards to your hole. Tongue flat and burning, wet with saliva that he shamelessly spits at your lips — only to drink it back from you in nasty, disgusting, gulps.
He grumbles into you, the motion blowing at your clit, tongue twisting into slow circles. Feels so good, to him almost. Erection grazing the edge of the bed, he groans. Voice cracking, he grabs both of your thighs, lifting them upwards so that you’re bending for him. Has pussy ever tasted this good. Giving isn’t something he usually does, it could grow onto him if every girl were you.
Wait, what.
Scratch that, he’ll dwell over these thoughts later. Drooling all over your lips, his tongue pokes at your entrance. Catching the sensation of your tight walls around him, his cock twitches. Your hips jerk upwards as he slides inside, shit he might as well be whimpering. You’re too fucked out to notice, blissed to the heavens and back. Someone could get shot and you wouldn’t realise. Eyelids squeezed shut, your legs shake, joints tightening around anything they can snatch.
The door opens, no knocking or anything. Just Hyunjin, a few girls in hand. As ravenous as he is, he enters the room lost in conversation until his eyes land on the two of you. He makes a surprised noise, the elated kind. You squeal, instantly dragging your skirt over Seungmin’s head, much to his temper.
“Are you guys playing prince and princess? What is she wearing–” then, he searches for your face, eyebrows kicking upwards. “Oh! You’re the girl from class.”
You shake your head violently, hoping to deny when a finger breaches you, tuning your voice into a moan. “Seungmin– Ah! Stop–”
“Tell him to get out,” he replies bluntly, showing no signs of stopping. If anything, he adds a second, curling them just right. You twist in shame, the humiliation burning at your skin. Hyunjin’s mouth forms an ‘O’, nodding with a growing smirk. You’re a hundred percent sure that he can still see what’s happening, grabbing onto a pillow, you slap it on your face. Coward puppy it is. Seungmin looks over, brushing the skirt off him with mild annoyance. Though, he makes a pitiful attempt at shielding you, shoulders hiding what you want to keep hidden.
“Stop peering, you’re being a creep.” Seungmin tells Hyunjin, not bothering to wipe his soaked mouth. “Move on to another room, this one is occupied.”
“Is she that good?” Hyunjin asks, brazen. He doesn’t give a fuck, or two, or even three. “You’ve been sticking for a while, I heard.”
Seungmin cocks his head to the side, squinting at the ceiling in fake ponder. “I think, that you should stop sticking your nose in other’s business. I heard you had trouble doing that,” His vision points to the girls on Hyunjin’s side, nothing but indifference in his eyes. “You seem busy, focus on what you have at hand. Since both are filled.”
“Ah, I see.” Hyunjin’s tongue pokes at his lips, shrugging. “That’s new coming from you, but if you insist.” He trails to the door, steps lazy. “I’d say. I’m the greedy type though.”
Seungmin eyes squint, scoffing into you, irritation overriding him once again. His fingers rub over you, pumping inside. He clicks his tongue, landing a light slap to your clit. “You got wetter, is getting interrupted that appealing to you?” He should’ve known better, especially after that little character background of yours. “What’s the point of acting embarrassed,” it’s an annoyed mumble, his thrusts turning meaner. He’d give you a scolding, but what’s his position to? It’ll only look desperate, he can’t afford that. Instead, he sucks onto your clit. Hard. Drawing out muffled, high pitched strangles. Ripping the pillow off you, the music downstairs is loud. You can be louder, showing everyone who has you yelping like this.
“Close?” He notes, the squelches of your cunt getting sharper, thighs begging to clasp around his head. You nod, feverish. He comes down again, adding a third finger as he latches at your clit, cutting the thread. You convulse, crying out in harsh body jolts. Expected, that at least eases him the slightest. Finally, understanding his younger friend a bit. Everybody pisses him off lately. He’d claim to be close to Hyunjin, but right now he wants to punch the shit out of him. Doesn’t matter, it’ll rub off after a few days. He hopes. “Now,” he climbs upwards, planting a kiss on your lips. Undoing his belt, “I’m hella worked up right now, fix it.”
—
“What if– what if he tells people!? Rumors fly, you know–”
“For the fifth time,” Seungmin goes on, groggy with sleep and a headache. It’s seven in the morning on a Monday,” he shouldn’t have picked up your call. “Who cares? Let him, so what.”
“What do you mean!!” If he could see your current state, maybe then he’d realise the gravity of the situation. “My reputation, it’ll be ruined.”
“What reputation..?” he starts but stops himself, remembering the last incident of him being too rude. “Okay, listen. Yn,” he states, you make a pathetic sound that curls at his chest. Nevertheless, his words are quick to slice at this feeling, “Do you know how many girls come and go here? Nobody gives a shit about who you are, they don’t care about that. It’s not that serious.”
Your coffee machine pings, it resonates. “Ah,” you inhale, blinking at the seeping liquid. “You’re right.” Flat, his reasoning stings. Not by a lot, just a little. Disappointment? You can’t decipher yet.
“Stop stressing over it, kay?” He’s done, waiting for your approval before going on with his day. There’s a silence that threads through. Are you zoning out?
Something else?
“Ow–”
“What happened–?” he asks, involuntary worry settling in.
“Nothing crazy,” you reply, “I burned my tongue with hot coffee.”
He exhales, loudly and obviously. Feeling stupid for inquiring over something this small.
“Be careful next time,” he grumbles, it doesn’t sound as concerning as it reprimands. Nothing else before hanging up, you scrunch your nose, sniffing in the beginning of a cold.
Cold, he’s been cold the entire weekend. Not like you had expectations, he just didn’t talk much after what happened. “It’s good,” you monologue. “That’s what hooking up culture is, be proud.” Exactly, stand proud. That’s what you desired for so long. You’re confident that you won’t see Hyunjin again either way, a whole semester in and this was the first time you met. So, nothing to worry about.
—
“Hello, yn-ah.”
You knew this would happen, having learned to anticipate those by now. Sixth sense top notch, you’re ready to become the next Spiderwoman. Ugh, too far. The thought sends a shiver of cringe throughout your body. Maybe in another story. In this one, the narrative decided that Hwang Hyunjin would sit next to you during this whole four hour lesson. And that this certain Hwang Hyunjin would nudge at and annoy you the whole four hour lesson, yes, emphasis on the four hour duration.
“Did you have fun Friday?”
“Surely…” you reply regardless, they still scare the shit out of you. Honestly, he’s up all in your face, it’s getting to you. Focusing is out of the frame, nothing that the lecturer said registered in your brain. It’s just Hwang Hyunjin. Hyunjin stealing your pens. Hyunjin trying to type on your laptop. You found that he’s actually stupid, or he appears to be. Who knows. You’re terrified the same way you’re annoyed. Like– it aligns, he must be trying to scare you… Exactly, this is it.
Seungmin was wrong, Hyunjin cares and he’s going to ruin your year. Your career, your degree, everything. You heard the whole campus worships him. You’re done for, he’ll threaten you soon. Saying — “Give me a chance.”
“Excuse me, what–?”
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