ACCUMULATION
[ K. Yeosang ]
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summary: in which you and your best friend are teetering on the edge of confessions and longing
genre: fluff, romance
pairing: yeosang x gender neutral reader
word count: 4.7k
masterlist
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The festival grounds were a living thing. Music rolled across the massive field in waves, vibrating through the soles of your boots and rattling against your ribs. Thousands of people moved as one organism beneath the cloudy afternoon sky, dressed in leather jackets, faded band shirts, chains, fishnets, and enough black clothing to blot out the sun. And somehow, despite all of that… Your entire focus had narrowed to exactly one person.
Yeosang.
Which was becoming a serious problem. A very serious problem. You stood beside him near one of the smaller stages, trying your absolute best to pay attention to the band currently performing. Trying being the key word. Because Yeosang had decided today was the day he wanted to look like that. His dark hair fell across his forehead, messy from hours spent wandering the festival grounds. Silver chains rested around his neck. Rings decorated nearly every finger. And his arms. God. His arms!
The sleeveless black top should have been illegal. There was simply no reason for a best friend to possess arms like that. None. Not when you’d already spent the last three years sharing an apartment with him. Not when you’d already spent three years pretending you weren’t hopelessly, embarrassingly in love with him. You looked away and immediately looked back. Then looked away again. Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic.
“You’ve been staring at the same guitarist for ten minutes.”
You nearly jumped as Yeosang’s voice cut through your thoughts and his lips twitched. “Really?” he asked.
“Yep.”
“The guitarist that’s behind you?”
“Oh shut up.”
His laugh escaped instantly. A bright, warm sound that somehow always felt rare even though you heard it every day. “You are so easy.” You rolled your eyes. “You say that every time.”
“Because it’s true every time.”
You hated that he was right as the chilly breeze sweeping through the festival grounds made you shiver and almost immediately, Yeosang noticed. He always noticed. Without even thinking about it, he stepped closer. The side of his arm brushed yours. Warm like always. You had lived with him long enough to know he ran hot no matter the season. The man was basically a human furnace. Meanwhile you were convinced your body temperature existed solely to suffer.
“You cold?”
“No.”
“You literally shivered.”
“It was emotional.”
Yeosang snorted. “An emotional shiver.”
“Exactly.”
“Should I be concerned?”
“No.”
“Good.”
You felt his shoulder bump yours. The contact was casual. Normal. Friendly. Which somehow made it worse. Because Yeosang was always touching you. Not in a romantic way. At least not intentionally. His hand on your shoulder. His arm around you during movies. His knee pressed against yours during long car rides. His fingers absentmindedly playing with the sleeve of your hoodie. The sort of things best friends did. The sort of things that made your stupid heart forget how to function.
The crowd surged forward as another song started. People cheered and the stage lights flashed. You shifted closer to avoid getting bumped, hand finding his wrist without even thinking. The same way it always did. Your fingers curled around the rings decorating his hand. Silver bands and cool metal. Familiar. Comforting. Yeosang glanced down then back at you and his expression softened instantly and you almost wished it hadn’t. Because that look always made everything worse. That quiet understanding. The way he never asked questions. Never made a big deal out of it.
Three years ago, when you’d first moved in together, he’d noticed you fiddled with jewelry whenever you were stressed. A week later he’d come home wearing rings. A month later he owned ten. Now he wore them almost daily despite barely caring about accessories. Never acknowledging why. Never pointing it out. Just silently making sure they were there for you. You swallowed hard. That thought was dangerous.
The band finished their song and the crowd erupted as Yeosang leaned closer so you could hear him over the noise. Way too close. Close enough to smell his cologne beneath the scent of smoke and food vendors. Close enough that your brain briefly forgot every language known to mankind. “Wanna go get food?”
You stared at him like an idiot. Because his face was right there. His eyes. His stupid lips. His stupid jawline. His stupid birthmark that you were obsessed with. His stupid everything. “What?”
His eyebrows lifted. “Food.”
“Oh.” You cleared your throat. “Yeah.” The two of you stared at each other before you pointed dramatically toward a food truck. “Tacos.” And just like that, the tension eased. At least for him. For you, it only got worse. Because as he reached over and hooked an arm around your shoulders to guide you through the crowd, you found yourself thinking the same thing you’d been thinking all day. The same thing you’d been thinking for months. The same thing you’d been thinking since the day he became your roommate. You were so screwed.
The line for the food trucks stretched farther than either of you had expected. Not that either of you really minded. The festival grounds buzzed around you with constant energy. Somewhere behind you another band had started playing, the distant crash of drums and screaming guitars blending with hundreds of conversations and laughter. The scent of fried food, barbecue, and kettle corn drifted through the chilly air, making your stomach growl despite the fact you’d already eaten twice since arriving.
Yeosang immediately heard it and his head turned as you groaned. “No.”
“It was loud.”
“No it wasn’t.”
“It sounded like a dying animal.”
“It sounded dignified.”
His mouth twitched in amusement. “Sure.” You resisted the urge to shove him. Mostly because you knew he’d just laugh. Instead, you focused on the line inching forward while absently reaching for his hand again. Not his hand exactly but his rings again. Your thumb slid over one of them as you stood next to each other waiting. The movement was so familiar neither of you acknowledged it anymore. Years ago, maybe. Now? It was second nature. Like breathing.
Like Yeosang always making coffee before you woke up because he knew you hated mornings. Like you always grabbing his jacket when you left because he inevitably forgot it. Like him remembering your favorite songs. Like you remembering his food orders. The little things had piled up over the years until they had become something neither of you knew how to define anymore.
You turned the ring slowly around his finger and Yeosang watched. Not the ring but you. His gaze lingered longer than it should have. Long enough to make warmth creep up the back of your neck. Long enough that when you finally glanced up, he looked away first. Which almost never happened. The realization hit you immediately. “You’re staring.”
Yeosang blinked then narrowed his eyes. “You’re staring.”
“I asked first.”
“You literally didn’t.”
“I implied it.”
His laugh escaped before he could stop it. The sound settled warmly in your chest. Dangerously warmly. Because that was the problem with Yeosang. It wasn’t one thing. It wasn’t his face. Or his smile. Or the fact he looked unfairly good in sleeveless shirts. It was everything. The accumulation. Thousands of moments stacked together over years. Every laugh. Every movie night. Every grocery trip. Every late night conversation at two in the morning while sitting on the apartment floor eating takeout. Every time he’d fallen asleep on the couch and you’d draped a blanket over him. Every time he’d noticed you were overwhelmed before you’d even said a word.
Your feelings hadn’t happened all at once. They’d happened slowly. Quietly. Like water filling a glass until one day it overflowed. The worst part was that you’d never figured out exactly when it happened. Only that it had.
Beside you, Yeosang looked away toward the stage lights glowing in the distance with his stomach twisting. Because every single thing you were thinking? He’d been thinking it too. For months. Weeks. Even longer. The original plan had seemed simple enough. Buy the festival tickets. Bring you here. Spend the entire day together. Find the right moment. Tell you. Simple.
Except nothing felt simple anymore. Not when you’d spent the entire day smiling at him. Not when you’d unconsciously sought him out in every crowd. Not when your fingers kept finding his rings. His stupid rings. Jewelry he’d never cared about before you. If someone had told him years ago he’d own enough silver rings to fill a small jewelry store, he would’ve laughed in their face. Now he couldn’t remember the last time he’d left the apartment without them. Because every single time your hands found them, you relaxed. And somehow that mattered more than his own preferences ever had.
The realization should have scared him. Instead it made his chest ache as the line moved again and you both stepped forward as the wind picked up again and instinctively, you moved closer. And of course, Yeosang adjusted with you. As if your bodies had learned each other’s habits years ago. As if neither of you even thought about it anymore. For a moment neither of you spoke as the music thundered around you. Lights flashed overhead as people laughed and danced and shouted. And somehow it felt like the two of you were standing in your own little pocket of the world. Just you and him.
You squeezed one of his rings absentmindedly and sighed. “Thanks for bringing me.” Yeosang froze for a moment as his gaze shifted toward you. The sincerity in your voice caught him off guard. Because you didn’t know. You had no idea. No idea that he’d bought the tickets the same night he’d heard you complaining for the hundredth time that you’d never gotten to attend this festival. No idea that he’d sat awake afterward staring at the confirmation email. No idea that he’d immediately imagined standing beside you exactly like this. No idea that this entire day had originally been part of a much bigger plan. A plan that involved finally telling you the truth.
You smiled at him and suddenly Yeosang couldn’t remember a single word he’d planned to say. Because after months of preparing himself, after imagining this conversation a hundred different ways, he found himself looking at you and thinking one thing. If this goes badly, I lose my best friend. The thought hit harder than he expected as You nudged his shoulder. “What?”
“What?”
“You’re doing the thing.”
“What thing?”
“The thinking thing.”
He laughed quietly. “You say that like thinking is unusual.”
“It is for you.”
“Rude.”
“Accurate.”
This time you did shove him and he knocked into you. Your laughter mixed together beneath the festival lights. And for a few seconds, neither of you noticed the music. Neither of you noticed the crowd. Neither of you noticed anything except each other.
By the time the two of you finally escaped the food truck lines, the sun had begun its slow descent behind the festival grounds, painted the sky in streaks of gold and orange, stage lights already starting to glow brighter against the darkening afternoon. Music drifted from every direction, overlapping into a beautiful mess of guitars, drums, and cheering crowds as you and Yeosang managed to claim a small patch of grass near one of the side stages. Far enough away that you weren’t packed shoulder to shoulder with strangers. Close enough that you could still hear the music.
You dropped onto the ground with a dramatic groan. “My feet are filing a formal complaint.” Yeosang sat beside you. “You’ve been walking for six hours.”
“Seven.”
“That’s not helping your case.”
“It absolutely is.”
His eyes rolled and you immediately smiled. The food between you disappeared surprisingly fast. Mostly because festival food was overpriced enough that every bite felt legally obligated to be enjoyed. For a while things settled into something comfortable. The kind of silence that only existed between people who knew each other inside and out. You stole some of his fries. He stole part of your piece of overpriced cake. Neither of you acknowledged it. Because after years of living together, ownership of food had become more of a suggestion than an actual rule.
A nearby band started another song as Yeosang leaned back on his hands. His head tilted toward the stage. The late afternoon light caught his profile and you had to look away and then like universe was out to get you, everything went wrong. Or at least that’s what it felt like. Because out of nowhere, two girls approached. Blonde. Pretty. Confident. The kind of confident that immediately made you suspicious as they stopped directly in front of Yeosang. You knew where this was going instantly as one of them smiled.
“Hi.”
Yeosang blinked, glancing towards you before looking back at the girl in front of him. “Hi.” The second girl laughed. “We’ve seen you around all day.”
Yeosang sat up slightly. Polite as always. Which somehow made everything worse. Because Yeosang was incapable of being rude to people. Especially strangers. “Oh.”
The first girl tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “We just wanted to say you’re really hot.”
Your grip tightened around your drink just slightly. Barely noticeable. Certainly not enough to crack the plastic. Definitely not.
The second girl smiled. “And we were wondering if maybe you’d want to hang out with us later?”
You stared straight ahead like the stage was the most fascinating thing suddenly. You had never been more interested in stage equipment in your entire life. Behind your calm expression, however? Chaos. Absolute chaos. Because what exactly were you supposed to do? Nothing. The answer was nothing. Yeosang wasn’t yours. He could talk to whoever he wanted. Date whoever he wanted. Go home with whoever he wanted. The thought alone made your stomach twist and you hated it. Hated how quickly jealousy appeared. Hated how possessive it made you feel. Hated how much it hurt. Most of all? You hated that you had absolutely no right to feel any of it.
Beside you, Yeosang hadn’t answered yet and you could feel him looking between the girls. Then toward you. Then back again, eyebrows pulled together. Because unlike you, Yeosang wasn’t focused on the girls. He was focused on the fact you’d gone completely silent. The fact you’d suddenly become fascinated with lights and the grass. The fact your jaw looked suspiciously tight. And because he’d spent years learning every tiny thing about you…
The realization hit him so hard he nearly forgot the conversation happening in front of him. His heart stumbled. Then immediately started sprinting as his gaze flickered toward you again. You still refused to look over as the first girl cleared her throat. “So?”
“Sorry.” His attention returned to them. Then, before he could stop himself, his eyes slid back toward you one more time and a small smile appeared. The kind of smile that made your stomach drop. Because suddenly he looked entirely too pleased with himself. “I appreciate it.” The girls brightened as Yeosang continued. “But I’m here with someone.” Your head snapped toward him immediately and the girls glanced between the two of you, one of them smiling knowingly. “Oh.”
Your face instantly warmed. “We’re not…” The words died as Yeosang looked directly at you. Not laughing. Not teasing. Just looking and for a second something shifted. Something neither of you quite understood. Or maybe understood far too well. The moment stretched before one of the girls grinned. “Well, good luck with… whatever this is.” And before either of you could respond, both girls disappeared back into the crowd.
You stared at your leftover food as Yeosang stared at you. “You were jealous.” Your head whipped toward him. “Excuse me? I absolutely was not.”
“You absolutely were.”
“No I wasn’t.”
“You looked ready to fight somebody.”
“I was not.”
“You were.”
“I was assessing threats.”
The sky had turned amber by the time you stood, bands were beginning to switch over to the evening sets now, the festival grounds transforming beneath thousands of string lights, glowing vendor signs, and stages painted in reds and blues. The air had gotten colder too. Not enough for people to leave, but enough that jackets were coming back out and hands were disappearing into pockets as you grabbed your empty food container before Yeosang could.
“Hey.”
“I got it.”
“You always say that.”
“And yet somehow I always get it.”
Yeosang rolled his eyes and you ignored him. Mostly because you were annoyed. No. That wasn’t right. You were embarrassed. Humiliated. Mortified. Because somehow he’d figured it out. Not everything. God, hopefully not everything. But enough. Enough to notice the jealousy. Enough to call you out. Enough to make your face burn every time you remembered it.
You tossed your trash into a nearby bin a little harder than necessary. The plastic container bounced off the side before dropping inside and when you turned around, Yeosang was already watching you. The man had apparently spent years making a career out of paying attention to you. You shoved your hands into your pockets. “What?”
“You just attacked a trash can.”
“It deserved it.”
The two of you started walking again, following one of the winding paths between stages. The crowd had thickened considerably now. People moved around you in every direction, carrying drinks, festival merchandise, and enough energy to power a small city and for a while neither of you spoke before Yeosang ruined it. “You were jealous.”
You immediately stopped walking and Yeosang took two more steps before realizing you’d frozen. Slowly, he turned around as you crossed your arms. “No.” His eyebrow lifted. “No?”
“No.”
“You were.”
“I wasn’t.” You groaned loudly, the sound getting swallowed by the crowd. “Why would I be jealous?” Yeosang’s expression remained infuriatingly calm as you kept going anyway. “Seriously.” Your hands flew up. “Why would I be jealous? I’ve never been jealous of anyone you’ve brought around before.” The second the words left your mouth, you regretted them. Because they were a lie. A massive lie. A catastrophic lie. A lie so obvious it practically came with flashing lights.
The girl from his economics class.
The guy from the gym.
The barista he’d spent three weeks talking about.
The coworker who’d hugged him a little too long.
Every single one of them had annoyed you.
Every. Single. One.
And judging by the look on Yeosang’s face? He knew it too. But surprisingly… he didn’t call you out. Didn’t argue. Didn’t laugh. Didn’t tease. Instead something shifted again. The amusement faded. The smile disappeared snd suddenly he looked nervous. Genuinely nervous. The sight alone made your irritation falter.
For a second he looked away. Toward the crowd. Toward the stages. Anywhere except you before he exhaled. “I get jealous.” The words landed harder than they should have.
You furrowed your brows, heart slamming inside your chest. “What?”
His gaze finally returned to yours. “I get jealous.” The crowd continued moving around you. Music thundered in the distance. But suddenly everything felt very far away. Very quiet. Very still as Yeosang shoved one hand into his pocket. “Your ex.” Your stomach dropped. “What?” You were starting to sound like a broken record.
“I hated him.” Yeosang continued before you could respond. “I hated every time he came over.” Your heart began beating faster. “And that guy from the dry cleaners. The one you hooked up with after graduation.”
“Oh my god.”
“I couldn’t stand him.”
“Yeosang.”
“He wasn’t even funny.”
You barked out a startled laugh despite yourself. “He was a little funny.”
“He wasn’t.”
“He was.”
“He made one joke.”
“It was a good joke.”
“It wasn’t.”
The argument was automatic. Familiar and comfortable. Until Yeosang’s expression softened and suddenly neither of you were arguing anymore. Because his eyes never left yours. Not once. “I hated hearing about him.” The confession came quieter this time. Honest and completely unfiltered. “I hated hearing about all of them.”
Your chest tightened as everything disappeared except him. Except the way his voice sounded. Except the way his shoulders looked tense. Except the way he was looking at you now. Like he was finally exhausted from carrying something too heavy. “You know what the worst part was?” You couldn’t answer as Yeosang gave a small laugh. “I didn’t even have a right to be jealous.” Your breath caught. Because that sounded familiar. “I’d sit there listening to you talk about someone and think…” He shook his head. “You aren’t mine.” The words hit like a punch. “You never were.”
Silence stretched between you as Yeosang swallowed. Then laughed quietly again. “I know.” His gaze dropped briefly to the ground. “I know how pathetic that sounds.” He was rambling now, unable to stop himself. “I just…” He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head. “I got tired of hearing about other people.” Your heartbeat hammered against your ribs like it was screaming for escape as Yeosang laughed quietly. “I know that’s selfish.”
“It isn’t.”
“It is.”
“It isn’t.”
His eyes softened. “See? That’s exactly what I mean.”
You frowned. “What?”
“You do that.”
“Do what?”
“You always make me feel better.” The honesty nearly knocked the breath from your lungs and Yeosang looked away briefly. “I kept thinking eventually I’d get over it.” His voice had gone quieter now. More vulnerable. “Eventually you’d date someone.” Your stomach tightened. “Or I’d date someone.” He laughed. “That never worked out very well.”
A thousand memories flashed through your head. Every awkward date he’d come home from. Every relationship that lasted three weeks at best. Every time he’d seemed completely uninterested no matter how perfect someone looked on paper. And suddenly all of it made sense.
“I kept telling myself it would go away.”
Your feet carried you closer before you even realized you were moving but Yeosang didn’t seem to notice. Too caught up in finally saying everything he’d spent years keeping locked away. “But then you’d fall asleep on the couch…. head in my lap. You’d steal my hoodies.”
A small smile tugged at your lips. “You leave them everywhere.”
“I know.” His smile appeared briefly before fading again. “And then you’d do something stupid.”
“Rude.”
“And I’d remember why I liked you.” Your heart nearly stopped as Yeosang laughed softly, shaking his head. “I don’t even know why I’m saying all this.” Because you’re in love with me. The realization settled over you with startling certainty. Not hope. Not wishful thinking. The same certainty you’d been carrying for years. The same certainty that had made every almost touch feel electric. Every shared glance feel dangerous. Every goodbye feel too short.
You were close enough to reach him now. Close enough to see the nervous tension in his shoulders. Close enough to notice the way his hands kept flexing at his sides as Yeosang kept talking. Because of course he did. When he was nervous, he rambled. When he was overwhelmed, he rambled. And apparently when confessing years of repressed feelings… he rambled a lot.
“I just think maybe if I’d told you sooner then maybe….”
Your hand shot out, fisting the front of his shirt and Yeosang froze. Words dying mid sentence as his eyes widened. “Yeosang.” For the first time all evening, he actually stopped talking as you swallowed with every nerve in your body screaming. “Stop talking.” The words came out softer than you’d intended as Yeosang stared at you. Confused. Hopeful. Maybe a little terrified.
Then you kissed him and the world disappeared completely. One second there was noise and music and people everywhere. The next there was only him. His brain had short circuited. As if he genuinely couldn’t process what was happening. For a brief moment you wondered if you’d made a terrible mistake before his hand found your waist and a soft sigh left him as his other hand followed the first, settling carefully against your side like he’d wanted to do it for years but never allowed himself to.
Then he kissed you back and years of tension seemed to collapse all at once. The kiss deepened naturally, neither of you wanting to be the first to pull away after waiting this long. After wanting this long and around you, the festival erupted. A collective cheer rose from the crowd as suddenly the night sky exploded with color. Fireworks. Bright streaks bursting overhead. But neither of you paid attention. Not when Yeosang’s hands tightened around your waist. Not when your fingers remained tangled in his shirt. Not when the impossible thing you’d both wanted for years was finally happening.
When you eventually pulled apart, neither of you moved very far. Foreheads nearly touching and breathing hard, staring at each other like neither of you could quite believe this was real and for a second, neither of you spoke……
Then Yeosang laughed. A bright, incredulous laugh. “You kissed me.”
You rolled your eyes immediately. “Excellent observation.” You couldn’t help it and started laughing. Maybe it was the adrenaline. Maybe it was the fact that you’d just spent years pining after your best friend and roommate only to discover he’d been doing exactly the same thing. Maybe it was the look on his face. Whatever the reason, the laugh escaped before you could stop it and Yeosang immediately narrowed his eyes. “What?”
“You are so annoying.”
His jaw dropped. “You kiss me and I’m annoying?”
“Yes.”
“That’s unbelievable.”
You nodded, completely serious. “You’re impossible.”
“I literally just confessed my feelings.”
“You rambled your feelings.”
“I was under pressure.”
“You gave a speech.”
“It was heartfelt.”
“It was twenty minutes long.”
“It was not twenty minutes long.”
“It felt like twenty minutes.”
Yeosang groaned dramatically as you laughed again and the sound was immediately worth it. Because the smile that spread across his face was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Not because you’d never seen him smile. You had. Thousands of times. But this one felt different. Like he’d finally put down something he’d been carrying for years as his hands settled more firmly around your waist.
Then, before you could react, he pulled you even closer. Close enough that your chest bumped his and that his smile became impossible to ignore. “You love me.” The confidence in his voice was insufferable and you rolled your eyes immediately. “There he is.”
“There who is?”
“The ego.”
His grin only widened. “You love me.”
“You are never going to shut up about this.”
“Nope.”
“Fantastic.”
“Absolutely.”
The idiot looked entirely too pleased with himself and somehow that only made your chest feel warmer. Because this was still Yeosang. Still your best friend. Still the person who remembered your coffee order. Still the person who wore rings he didn’t care about simply because he’d noticed they helped you.
Your gaze dropped to his hand and your fingers found one of the silver rings, turning it gently against his skin. The familiar motion settled your racing heart instantly and Yeosang’s expression softened as fireworks continued bursting above the festival. Gold and silver reflecting in his eyes. The crowd cheered around you. The music thundered from the stage. Yet somehow it all felt distant…. like background noise. Because for the first time all day, neither of you were dancing around what you wanted. Neither of you were pretending.
Your thumb brushed over the ring one more time then you looked up and Yeosang was already looking at you as a smile tugged at your mouth. “Yeah…”
His expression immediately brightened as you intertwined your hand with his own. “I kind of do.” For once, Yeosang didn’t have a smart comment ready. Didn’t tease. Didn’t joke. The look on his face was so openly happy it nearly stole your breath as his forehead bumped yours gently, a laugh escaping him. Quiet and disbelieving. Like he still couldn’t quite believe this was real.
“Good,” he murmured.
“Good?”
“Yeah.”
His hand slid into yours, fingers intertwining effortlessly.
“Because I kind of love you too.”
You snorted. “Kind of?”
His grin returned immediately. “There it is.”
“There what is?”
“The ego.”
You barely had time to roll your eyes for him throwing your words back at you, before you leaned forward and kissed him again. This time neither of you hesitated. No years of uncertainty. No wondering. No pretending. Just you and Yeosang beneath a sky full of fireworks, surrounded by music and thousands of strangers, finally finding the thing that had been right in front of both of you all along.
And honestly? The festival tickets had been worth it for that alone.
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