Teach Me V
Hands on
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6
Pairing: Lee Dokyeom (Seokmin) x fem!reader
Genre: smut, humor, college au, frat!svt
Warnings: fingering, mastubation, dom!reader, spitting, ass play, doggy style, facial, sex tape. Dokyeom with a praise kink pt. 2 (he's a good boy :c), unfortunately we have reached the actual angst. Poor DK gets his shit rocked :/// and everyone is upset
Length: ~7.6k
Note: picking up right where we left off in part 4 so go back and read, honestly every thing bc nothing will make any sort of sense. i think this is the longest part so far which is BANANAS but a lot needed to happen before the final part. ANYWAY! leave comments or silly tags in the reblogs, I read every single one obsessively
and because bennie aka @miniseokminnies is the number one lover of this couple, i'm giving them a shoutout for being the absolute sweetest
read more here
“Then go lock the door.”
Dokyeom nearly knocks himself out in the scramble for the door, catching himself before he can fully topple into the floor head first. You’d laugh if you weren’t just as desperate.
With a quiet click he launches over the end of the other bed, tackling you back into the mattress to reconnect your mouths.
Sweltering drags of sharp teeth bruise your lips, puffing them into a delicious swell before his tongue soothes them back down. If you had all the time in the world, you’d stay right where you are, bracketed beneath his arms and crushed beneath his hips.
The damp chill of sweat blooms under your clothes, anticipating the next delicious roll of friction between your legs. Dokyeom delivers eagerly, lewdly curling his crotch against yours, echoing your moans of depravity.
“Wait,” you murmur into his mouth, stealing another searing kiss. “I haven’t told you the–” another pass of his tongue, “rules” and his teeth, “yet.”
Dokyeom moves back an inch when your finger digs into his breast bone uncomfortably. The down turn of his mouth tells you he hasn’t heard a word since “lock the door.”
“Rules, Kyeomie.”
A childish whine leaves his lips, clearly having no interest in whatever you're about to tell him as he dives back down for more kisses. His mouth drops in shock as the warm skin of your palm covers the lower half of his face. You fling it away when the wet pass of his tongue across the crease between your fingers nearly makes you falter.
“Rules?” Dokyeom eyes you skeptically from above. You wouldn’t be surprised if he stomps his foot and throws a full tantrum on the floor in the next few minutes.
“Mhmm,” you confirm, eyes dropping to follow your fingers tracing down his chest. When you brush the waistband of his pants, you look back up at Dokyeom as he stutters a breath. “Rules.”
In typical fashion, Dokyeom tries to distract you from things he doesn’t like, hoping they’re forgotten under nips of teeth and the heat of his body burning into yours. Pressing into your space, he drops his elbows to the mattress on either side of your head to leer over you.
You forget how broad he is sometimes, but you're reminded now by the way he eclipses your view beyond his shoulders before he swoops for the kill, sucking your lower lip between his own.
Indulging in the peace of a good makeout, you let him think he’s got you where he wants you. And for a second, Dokyeom does; eager to fold you in half and give you his cock. But this is your prize and reward. Maybe you should save one of them, but patience has never been one of your good qualities.
Slowly snaking your fingers up his neck, tickling his jaw before raking your nails through the short strands of hair at the base of his scalp. Gentle touches make him cocky, enticing him to drop more of his weight and shuffle you up towards the pillows.
A firm tug disconnects him, causing Dokyeom to yelp in surprise.
“Rule number one, I’m in charge.” You start, brushing over the patch of hair you just pulled on to calm the sensitive skin. “Rule two, no touching unless I say so.”
“I don’t like these rules.” He mumbles, pouting once again.
Laying back on the bed completely, you entice him with honey eyes and a sweet smile. “If you’re a good boy, I’ll let you do whatever you want. Next time.”
“Whatever I want?”
“Within reason.” You agree, shrugging your shoulders lazily.
“And if I’m not?”
You scramble to think of a punishment, not expecting him to call your bluff so suddenly.
“I’ll rub one out in the shower and you can listen at the door.”
Dokyeom huffs at the idea, “That’s not fair!”
“You said you’d give me whatever I want. And this is my prize for winning.”
“Will you let me…”
“If you behave you can come anywhere you want. And I want a video of it.”
“Fuck, okay.” he nods. “What do you want me to do?”
“Take off your clothes.”
Rising to stand before you, he pulls the hem of his sweater up to reveal the soft trail of hair leading beneath his pants. When he notices you're not moving, Dokyeom cocks his head sideways. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Are you gonna take yours off too?”
“Hmmm, it's kinda cold. Maybe later.”
“You’re mean.”
Batting away his hand attempting to snake up your shirt, you motion for him to start again. “Yeah, yeah. Now drop ‘em.”
Standing between your spread legs, Dokyeom fists the neck of his sweatshirt. Each inch the worn navy fabric rises unveils another stretch of warm skin and clenching muscles. His stomach ripples deliciously, before his chest tightens as well. When his arms come free, he not so subtly raises them above his head in a laze stretch, monitoring your face for a reaction.
Shaking your head, you bite back a laugh at his ridiculousness. When he spins to flash his butt as his thumbs dip into the waist of his pants, chin turning over his shoulder as his mouth puckers before one of his hands covers it, you can’t control it any longer.
He laughs too, happily dissolving the tension in the room.
Sweatpants hit the floor with a quiet thunk, his underwear remaining on his hips. Raising your eyebrow in a challenge, Dokyeom steps back into your space. He’s half hard under the black fabric, bulge prominent already.
“Underwear too.”
He keeps climbing over you, pressing you back into the blanket. “Maybe later, it’s cold.”
“Kyeomie, you’re not being good.” You chide, cupping him softly in a loose fist as you rut the heel of your hand against him.
To his credit, Dokyeom tries to play it cool. But the red tips of his ears and stutter of lungs do all the talking he’s refusing to. Lending a helping hand, you free him from the cling of his boxers before digging the pad of your thumb into the weeping tip of his cock.
Bare from head to toe, you lean back to drink your fill of the sight before you. The shy twist of his lips is a laughable contrast to the rest of his body. Strong arms, hard chest, thick thighs, and a beautiful cock hardening to full mast under your gaze.
Fuck. You think with a harsh swallow.
Pulling your eyes away from ogling his body to glance at his face, you find him already watching you. Eager for your next move. “Do you want me to touch you?”
“Yeah.” He sighs, cock twitching at the idea.
“Show me how.”
With your permission he begins palming his cock, spreading the sheen of pre-cum down the rigid shaft. But it’s not enough to fend off the unpleasant friction.
Dokyeom’s breath labors under the twist of his wrist, flushing tip nearly purple.
Throwing to the poor man a bone, you nudge his hand away from his cock and towards your mouth, spitting lewdly into his palm before leading it back where it was. Not one to waste time, he quickly squeezes a tight grip, hips rushing forward to work through his fist as his other hand drops to fondle his balls. On a particularly sharp thrust of his hips, Dokyeom sings a throaty groan to the ceiling as his head tips back.
Dokyeom is beautiful. Neck elongated, throat bobbing over his own obnoxiously loud grunts. Beads of perspiration slip from his temple, racing down his neck to etch a path across his chest. The shoddy lamp in the corner is bright enough to highlight the heat on his cheeks that spreads from the tips of his ears to his dusky nipples.
There's too much to look at, but the way his stomach sucks in as his wrist twists across his head makes you feel breathless. And the vein that you love to trace with your tongue rises, webbing from his cock up to the trail of hair dusty his abdomen strings you out as much as Dokyeom feels.
You’d fucked him enough to know when he’s about to cross the point of no return. It starts with a whimpered “baby,” and a few desperate “please”s, then Dokyeom’s muscles pull tight like a frozen rubber band, more than ready to snap under the pressure.
You sit forward, close enough to feel the aura of heat cloaking his body. “Are you gonna cum?”
Dokyeom tries to deny it, shaking his head clumsily before a whimper rips from behind his teeth.
“Stop.”
Chest glistening in the light, Dokyeom gives himself one last tug before he steadying his breathing for what’s next. When you stand, the coarse fabric of your sweater covering your stomach rasping against his sensitive cock as you step into his space, he curls into the friction before calming again. Dokyeom watches you down the slope of his nose, eyes scanning your face for any betrayal of your thoughts. Your cheeks are hot, and no doubt your pupils are dilated like his but you don’t smile or crinkle your nose teasingly. Just a simple low lidded stare as you assess him.
Dokyeom’s shiver has nothing to do with the chilly air seeping into the room.
“Sit on the bed.”
A beat passess, a vague challenge against your authority, but he steps around you and takes his place at the edge of the red and blue quilt. Legs wide, arms behind him to prop him up; cheekily cocking an eyebrow.
“Start again.”
Not waiting for you to change your mind, he picks up right where he left off, finding his rhythm with ease.
But you can’t have that.
So you fall to your knees between his spread legs, eye level with Dokyeom’s cock, allowing your hands to squeeze the cords of muscle flexing around his thighs, nails biting into the bulging flesh. The sting of pain is rewarded with a squeeze of his fist around the puffy head of his cock, leaking a gooey pearl of cum for you to lick away.
Dokyeom tries to chase the brief touch but fails when you lean back out of reach. “Does it feel good?”
“Yeah.” He stutters, eyes heavy as he focuses on how incredibly close and incredibly far from his cock you are.
“Do you want me to touch you?”
He nods hopefully.
“Ask nicely.”
When he fails to respond, you dig flex your fingers still on his thighs, nails leaving crescents near the crease of his hip in warning.
A warning to who, you have no idea since Dokyeom squeezes the base of his dick to stop himself from cumming.
“P–please.”
“I am, silly.”
You spot the indignant frustration bloom on his face, tears welling in his eyes as you tell him to beg for every last drop of satisfaction. And to rub salt in the wood, you flash our best innocent smile.
“Want your mouth.”
“My mouth? Like this?” You leave a cheap kiss on his knee.
“On my cock.”
“Oh so like this.” The same kiss on his tip, pre-cum sticking to your lips as you dive away before you can fold and give him more.
“No,” he whines, frustrated, muscles in his thighs jumping.
Dokyeom hasn’t stopped his hand, but he’s loosened his grip to stave off his organism. Teasing himself, helping you torture and edge him.
“You have to tell me what you want or I can’t give it to you, baby.”
“I can’t—,” he cries “please just—”
You wanted Dokyeom whining and needy, to string him out till he can barely think straight. And you have, but you overestimated how long it’d take. And how long you’d be able to deny yourself any pleasure either.
Rising to your feet, you loom over him. “Take off my pants.” You command, busy with removing your sweater.
Eager for the possibility of relief, Dokyeom jams you panties and underwear around your ankles swiftly. His tongue tracks along the crease above your thigh where it becomes your torso, rough palms squeezing and spreading your ass harshly as he reaches behind to press you closer.
You don’t bother with unclasping your bra, ripping it overhead along with your undershirt in haste to be naked. Scrambling for his face, you suck him into a sloppy kiss before tripping over the fabric snaring your legs and tackling him to the bed.
“You’re so fucking hot” He hisses into your mouth, bucking into your fist as you play with his cock, thumb harsh against his weep slit.
“Remember our deal.” You pant, reminding both of you what’d been agreed on outside the door.
Dokyeom sighs, the back of his head hitting the bed to observe your nude body above him. Enraptured by the endless stretches of skin. “Whatever you say.”
A few minutes of mindless groping grants you both a reprieve. Dokyeom wedges his thigh between your legs, flexing as you grind against him, soaking him with each pitiful pass, his hands splayed wide across the meat of your ass to assist.
Two of his fingers catch on your entrance, dipping in lightly, waiting for your protest. But when your hips lift to search for firm contact, Dokyeom stuffs you full, stretching you to hopefully take his now neglected cock leaking just below his belly button.
Working up to a third finger, you ride his hand as your clit wears against the friction of his leg. Dokyeom busies his mouth with your neck, a constellation of teeth marks and bruises staining the sensitive stretch of skin.
It almost better than fucking him. Giving freedom to the supernova building in your core, tickling the nerves of your extremities in a tease. Everything is tight; the muscles cinching his finger as he curves them, your lungs screaming for air, even the squeeze of your eyes leaves a collage of colors and static across your vision.
The sting across your scalp as Dokyeom pulls your hair, forcing your face out of hiding over his shoulder, sends a painful mewl in between you.
He watches your mouth hang open, eyes rounding under the furl of your eyebrows. Dokyeom gives another tug when your forehead tips forward, his tongue catching your squeak of shock.
“Please cum, fuck please.” He begs into your mouth, breathy as he presses his fingers gloved inside you a fraction harder before adding his pinky. “Need it, please baby.”
His hand slips down to hold your chin between the curve of his thumb and index finger, drooling as you bite his thumb between your teeth.
“C’mon baby,” Dokyeom grunts, rocking you forward from the gusto of his other hand. “Let me make you come.”
Wrecked moans fill the silence, breaking the band in your gut to free fall over the edge. You land on his chest as your arms give out, muscles spasming under the flood of endorphins bolting through your veins. Dokyeom doesn’t stop, arm flexing as he works through your high, a pornographic squelch echoing with each press. Darkness consumes you, floating through space as you cry from delectable torture, hips canting into overstimulation.
Squeezing your thighs together tightly, Dokyeom tries to work through the sudden barrier but stops when you bite his shoulder painfully.
“Too much,” you whine, voice horse.
Panting in unison, you only rest for a moment before returning to your plan. Damn Dokyeom’s fingers for distracting you so easily.
Rolling to your side, he follows, waiting with baited breath at your next move.
Technically, he broke the rules. It’d been to your benefit, but misbehavior nonetheless. If you were cruel, you’d send him to the bathroom to take care of himself. But your orgasm only made you want Dokyeom’s cock more.
You feel him crowding over you, a smatter of gentle kisses peppering your face, his thumb working against a knot in your thigh from being on top for so long. You don’t focus on the sticky discomfort between your thighs, or else you’ll be tempted to have his mouth there next and you know you’re already operating on borrowed time.
Opening your eyes, you find his brown ones staring back. He looks a little afraid.
Good.
“Kyeomie,” you chide, tutting at him.
“Come on!” he protests, mouth dropping in shock.
“You broke the rules.”
“Baby, please don’t do this to me.”
Drama queen to his core, Dokyeom won’t stop to see your failure at hiding a smirk. He riles himself up without your help, pretending to be upset was just too easy of an option.
Shaking your head disappointedly, you move to sit up. “You said you’d listen.”
“I promise I’ll be good!” He whines, slinking to the floor between your legs, hands clenched together in front of him. His cock is solid as steel, head nearing purple under the need to release.
“Promises, promises.” You sigh.
“Do you want me to cry? Because I will. If that’s what it takes.”
He starts rapidly blinking, trying to draw up a reserve of tears, only stopped by the press of your foot against his chest.
“Stop.” You bark, the bite from the laugh hiding in the back of your throat.
You don’t see his expression as you twist onto your stomach, rising to your knees, chest pressed in the bed to give a salacious arch to your spine.
A draft curls around your exposed cunt, causing you to squeeze and forcing more arousal to drip down your legs.
“Shit,” Dokyeom murmurs behind you.
Turning to watch him over your shoulder, you wait until he meets your heated gaze. “Make me cry, Kyeom.”
Nodding like a bobble head, Dokyeom rises, pressing into you swiftly. Sheathing himself to the hilt, he wastes no time before retreating to come back once more.
The pace is bruising, knocking the wind from your lungs. He’s so deep you swear you can feel him in the back of your throat.
‘Make me cry’ is vague enough he hesitates, afraid of breaking the rules despite the wet groans shaking in his chest.
“Touch me, Kyeomie.” You bawl, drooling on to the patchwork quilt below you.
A sting on your ass is the first blow, followed by two more. The snaps against your skin leave a hot mark behind, encouraging you to whine for more as a cold sweat clings to your spine.
“So tight, shit.” Dokyeom bites between his teeth, folding over your back to suck on your neck.
He brushes the spot he’s only ever found with his fingers, sending you into a spiral, springing tears in your eyes.
“Right there,” you pant, “fuck don’t stop.”
The headboard knocks against the wall in time with his thrusts, one knee landing on the bed to give him more leverage to fill you deeper. Dokyeom’s breath puffs against the side of your face, uneven like he’s been punched in the gut.
Ripping one of his hands away from your side, you bring his hand around your neck, eager to feel his long fingers collar you. There’s a tentative quake before Dokyeom delivers a gentle possessive squeeze, rushing to you when you choke on a noise somewhere between a groan and a sob.
You devolve into a symphony of primal grunts. Tearing himself from your back, Dokyeom twists the hand around your throat back into the hair at the base of your spine, the other hand dropping to spread your ass apart. Something wet lands on your puckered hole, his thumb grazing your rim with the added lubrication.
You realize he spit on you.
“Fuck Kyeomie, do that again.” You squeal, delighted by another swat of his hand as he gives you what you ask for.
When he whines “Gonna cum.” you stop him with a hand against his stomach.
“Please, can’t,” He whimpers, curling his hips once more, staying flush with the meat of your ass as he rocks inside you.
Eyes tight to savor the stretch, you swallow the desire to give in down with the knowledge something better waits on the other side of your demand. “Kyeomie stop.”
And with herculean effort, he steps back, soaked cock threatening to drip on the carpet as your hole tightens in mourning.
“Where’s my phone?” You ask, collapsing forward to catch your breath.
Dokyeom crouches down for your forgotten pants, searching the pockets before he finds the device.
“Here.”
Entering your passcode, you open your camera app and set it to video before passing it back.
“Wha—”
“You were good.” You explain, slipping to the floor like smoke. The hard floor stings into your knees once again before taking him in your mouth.
A series of gurgled noises flee his chest, but you open your eyes to see the camera about a foot above you, catching the way your lips stretch around his cock, your fist taking what your mouth can’t. The combination of pre-cum, saliva and your arousal floods your mouth, excess pushed out of your lips and drooling down your chin. You manage to get him settled in your throat after a few passes, delivering a harsh such on the upstroke that has Dokyeom batting you away, jacking off over your face as ropes of white land haphazardly.
Mouth open wide and pink tongue extended, the familiar musky tang flares through your taste buds. Thankfully Dokyeom attempts to aim away from your eyes, albeit sloppily. You feel the hot stickiness across the bridge of your nose, dripping down the apples of your cheeks as it keeps coming with every slick squelch of his hand.
Thoroughly spent, he taps the head against your lips, urging you to suck him in one last time. Flashing your eyes open, you meet his over the edge of your phone as you kitten lick the sensitive head. Chasing his hips when he steps away, Dokyeom lets the camera get every angle of the magnificent mess he made before brushing his fingers across the dip of your chin, panting as you lave against them in place of his cock before smiling up at him shyly. With one last lick to your lips, he cuts the recording and tosses your phone on the bed.
“How was—”
Your question dies on your lips as Dokyeom claims them, ignore the sticky cum now drying on your face. Dragging you to stand, he pushes one hand into your hair, the other circling your waist as he tastes his spend on your tongue.
Only the desperate need for oxygen pulls you apart.
Struggling to catch your breath, his saccharine grin is a stark contrast to your activities a moment ago.
Ushering you into the cramped bathroom to clean away the mess, you find yourself in the too small stall, firmly snared in Dokyeom’s arms. Peppering endless kisses up and down the curve of your shoulder, he noses behind your ear when you hum pleasantly in his hold as he gives a firm squeeze.
But the water begins to chill before long, prompting you to wiggle free which isn’t really free at all in the compact stall. You keep him at bay with hands full of shampoo, working his hair into a faux Mohawk full of perfumed bubbles. Returning your generosity, Dokyeom soaks a washcloth in a comical amount of the cheap body wash sitting in the corner before swiping the sudsy fabric over your skin. He's surprisingly thorough, methodically working up your arms and down your chest in loose circles, focusing on your breasts before you tsk at him with a smile. A twirl of his fingers prompts you to turn so he can focus on your back. When he drops to his knees to finish, he shoulders apart your legs, dropping his mouth against the cleft between your ass and your thigh.
One hand finds your exhausted cunt, the thick gloss of fluids clinging to your folds despite your time under the hot spray of the shower head. You wait with baited breath as Dokyeom silently works, his middle and pointer finger parting your lips, forcing you on the balls of your feet when he grazes your sensitive clit. A nudge against your leg has you spinning to face him, mouth dropping open as he lifts a leg over one of his stronger shoulders to get a better look.
And then, as if a spell is broken, he drops a kiss to your hip before continuing with his rag, foamy soap lacing your legs.
“All clean.” He decrees, rising to meet you with another peck on your parted lips.
Now lukewarm water rinses away the evidence of his efforts. Still dumbfounded, you let him guide you from the stall, patting you down with a scratchy towel before wrapping his own around his waist.
Watching each other in the mirror as you brush your teeth, skin still damp and glowing in the steam, you make an attractive pair. Exhausted, but fitting together like two perfect puzzle pieces.
The bathroom should only fit one person at a time, so the two of you are practically on top of one another as you shuffle back and forth between the sink. Dokyeom has the bright idea to lift you to the counter, standing between your legs as he watches you apply your skincare.
He’s already finished his business, but he refuses to leave your side. “What’s that do?”
“Lotion.” You respond, patting it across your face.
“Can I have some?”
“Sure.”
Grabbing the bottle to pump some in his hands, you return to find his eyes closed, offering you his face. Puffing a breath of amusement, you dab a few dots across his skin before gently massaging it in. Tracing the curve of his eye socket, down to his cheek bones, the sharp edge of his jaw. When you brush his chin, you curve two fingers around the bone, pulling him forward to meet your lips.
And the way he looks at you when his eyes open after you separate hurts. Hurts so much you slipe down from the counter, fleeing the suffocating tension of the bathroom to return to the real world of the bedroom.
“Are you okay?” Dokyeom asks, following after you.
“Yeah!” You agree too loudly, digging around your bag for something to sleep in. “Just got lightheaded for a second.”
You know he doesn’t believe you when he mutters a skeptical, “Okay.”
Donning a pair of boxers and a long sleeve that may or may not belong to the man behind you, you hop into bed next to him, praying he won’t hear the staccato beat of your heart.
Curling around your back, Dokyeom spoons you from behind as you both face the windows to watch the storm ragging on outside. A bolt of lightning webs through the black clouds, reflecting off the murky lake sloshing in the wind.
Despite your earlier nap, you're spent both mentally and physically. The gentle woosh of Dokyeom’s breath lulls you back across the bridge to sleep.
—
A sudden shake of the bed wakes you. The room is pitch black. Dokyeoms body is still behind you but he’s whisper-shouting at whatever the source of disturbance is. A teary whine informs you Soonyoung has decided to put himself to bed. In the wrong bed.
“Dude, get up.” Dokyeom groans, twisting to push the older man off the mattress.
You burrow further under the comforter, face squashed in the fluffy pillow under your head.
A disgusting sniffle responds, before Soonyoung moans. “You’re my best friend.”
“Thank you but you’re gonna wake her up.”
Everything is happening like you're below water, their voices muffled and miles away but you’re rising to the surface fast. If Soonyoung is the reason you can’t fall back to sleep later, you’ll wring his neck.
“Oh wouldn’t wanna inconvenience your girlfriend. Do you know how many times I’ve been woken up by you two?”
“Shut up.” A swift smack rings into the silence, followed by more drunk tears.
You feel something, or rather someone, wiggling between you and Dokyeom. Turning over to face the intruder, you open your eyes to the dark room and the shadow of Soonyoung a few inches from your face. Red as a tomato and eyes struggling to remain open.
“Hey! Hey, Y/N.” Each call punctuated with a poke to your ribs.
Huffing an exhausted breath, you humor Soonyoung in hopes he goes away. “What the fuck do you want?”
“Do you like Dokyeom?”
You’re certainly awake now. “Huh?”
“He likes you.”
“Shut the fuck up!” Dokyeom yells behind, trying to snake his hand over Soonyoung’s mouth.
“I’m just speaking the facts!” Soonyoung protests.
The waft of alcohol hangs around your face as Dokyeom successfully drags his friend from the bed. They’re wrestling on the ground in the narrow strip of floor between beds, jostling you with their roughhousing.
Having reached your limit, fueled further by Soonyoung’s ill timed remarks, you snap. “Girls you’re both pretty, now can we please go to bed?”
“Fine.”
“FINE.”
Cocooning in the blanket, you wiggle to the opposite edge of the mattress, as far away from the chaos as you can manage. The springs on the other side of the room squeak under Soonyoung’s weight as he flops down bonelessly, bouncing twice before he settles.
Once Dokyeom is satisfied he won’t get up, you feel the dip behind you as he shuffles under the covers.
Several uncomfortable inches separate your bodies as Soonyoung begins to snore.
Minutes pass, your heart thudding in your ears, breath uncomfortably labored.
This was a bad idea. A string of bad ideas actually. Partnering with Dokyeom in lab, agreeing to go to the frat party at the beginning of the semester. Kissing him a few weeks later, taking his virginity. Hooking up with him again and again. Letting him hold you like he was more than a friend. Letting him kiss and touch as he pleased, doing the same. Spending the night. Driving up to this cabin and pretending it all meant more than it really did.
If Dokyeom liked you, he would have said something by now. He doesn’t stop talking unless he’s sleeping or eating, and both of those instances are more loose guidelines than strict rules. He wears his heart on his sleeve so if he felt anything for you beyond mutually shared sexual attraction you’d know.
And the way he reacted to Soonyoung’s declaration proves he doesn’t.
There’d never been a promise of something more. You were his fuck buddy and chemistry partner. Romance and dating never came up. Nevermind the fact you hadn’t entertained another guy all year and Dokyeom never mentions other girls. Only awkwardly laughing when someone boldly approaches him, gently rejecting them with stuttered reasons why he isn’t interested.
Sometimes you think he’s looking at you to step in and say something, but it’s just a convenient excuse to not hurt someone’s feelings.
And because you’re selfish, you come up with a solution.
You’ll enjoy the next two days, bury your heart deep in your chest and pretend nothings changed in the ripples of tonight. When you return to campus Monday afternoon, whatever feelings you may have will be left behind in this room to wither in the darkness. Dokyeom will go back to being the cute guy you’re partnered with in chemistry and that’ll be that. No more hookups, no more movie nights on his couch, and certainly no more parties where alcohol will convince you to fold on your plan.
So you might as well enjoy it while it lasts.
Dokyeom jumps when you turn around and snuggle into his back, nose following the valley of his spine as your arm curls around his waist to rest on the soft skin of his stomach. A few chirps of the crickets outside the window pass before you feel his fingers twine with your own, pulling your connected hands to his mouth, dropping a gentle press of lips on your knuckles.
And somehow it makes everything worse.
—
Sunday morning, you wake with determination and indulgent kisses to Dokyeom’s sleeping face.
But day one of your flawless plan comes with unforeseen road bumps.
Once you finally manage to slip from bed, batting away the arms of your still dreaming lover, you find your phone flooded with a collection of pictures courtesy of Seungkwan. Snaps of you next to Dokyeom, laughing in time with mouths wide and chins tipped back. A few of you in his lap, watching the chaos of a drunk game night as he watches you, face relaxed and lips turned into a soft grin. And one picture of him staring out the living room window into the front yard illuminated with the high noon sun, like a puppy waiting for its owner to return.
Roadbump two boils down to your nativity.
After deciding to freely enjoy whatever Dokyeom has to offer for forty eight hours, he’s turned everything up to a hundred. Back hugs when you’re washing a dirty coffee cup in the kitchen sink, disgustingly cartoonish kisses where he can land them, his hands burning into your skin at every chance. Which are more frequent than you’d imagine considering he doesn’t let you out of his sight all morning.
His presence is intoxicating, sweet the same way the first warm breeze in spring is. But instead of drumming up new blooms, all he leaves is confusion.
Soonyoung’s slip off tongue doesn’t come up again but there's palpable tension between the two of them. The usual twin laughs silent as they avoid one another like the plague.
But the subtle apology comes when Soonyoung mentions the jacuzzi on the porch in passing when Dokyeom runs to the restroom.
“If you and DK wanna use it, I’ll keep everyone else out.”
Smiling as if he didn’t cause the thick anxiety in your gut, you thank him.
Luckily, the hot tub is conveniently covered by a tin awning, the echoing pitter patter of the sky falling around you as you both sink into the steamy water, string lights crossing above provide a warm glow.
Even if Soonyoung hadn’t agreed to be referee, no else is dumb enough to risk the cold snap settling in the air; despite the reprieve of the soothing jets and steaming water.
Thighs caging Dokyeom’s own as you rest in his lap, facing him. Hands busy at the sides of his neck, thumb massaging the tight knots of muscle along his shoulders, following the beads of steam that cling to his skin, trailing down to pool in his collar bone.
Content washes through your bones. Here, in his arms, all alone. Touching just to touch, the way couples do simply because they can.
And it drives you mad.
“Minnie?”
Dokyeom hums in response, continuing to trail his nose around the curve of your jaw, feathering fleeting kisses in his travels.
“What are we doing?”
Lifting to your temple, he whispers “What do you mean?”
What did you mean? The question came out before you realized what was happening, so high on conflicting emotions you’d lost your carefully crafted control. But it’s too late now.
“Why’d you invite me?” You clarify, hooking your chin over his shoulder to avoid looking at his face.
“Because I like having you around.”
He says it with mild disbelief, like you asked what color the sky is.
“That’s it?”
“I don’t—,” he pauses. “What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know. I just thought...”
“You thought what?”
Shaking your head, you lock yourself behind the vault door again. “Nothing, it's stupid.”
But Dokyeom isn’t willing to let you run away so easily. Gently lifting your chin till you’re out of his neck, he waits until you look at him before asking again.
“Tell me. Please?”
“I just thought maybe you invited me for a reason.” You grumble, burning under his inquisitive stare.
“I mean I did.” he swallows, thumb caressing the soft dip beneath your chin absentmindly. “I missed you.”
His confession melts your resolve slightly. But it’s not enough.
“Is that it?”
“What else is there?”
Any part of you that softened in the last minute tenses again. You got your answer.
“You’re right.” Your voice is hollow.
Dokyeom senses it immediately. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You're upset.”
“I’m fine.” But your voice says you’re clearly not.
“Talk to me.” He begs in a tiny voice you wouldn’t think someone as loud and bright as him would be capable of, fingers tangling with your own beneath the water.
All of it leaves a bitter taste coating your mouth like oil.
“Do you like me?”
He flounders at your sudden boldness, “Do I— what?”
“You don’t.”
“I didn’t say that!” He objects, distressed from the bite of your words.
“Well Soonyoung did and you couldn’t have shut him down faster!”
“Because it’s none of his business!”
“Then whose is it?”
“Well, do you like me?”
“I asked first!”
“I asked second!”
“God you’re such a fucking child!”
Dokyeom stands up, dumping you from his lap into the water unceremoniously.
Swiping at the water caught in your eyes as you surface, you scream. “What the fuck?”
“Oh I’m sorry! I’m just sooo childish I didn’t think about it!” He huffs, already wrapping a towel around his waist as he stomps into the house. A trail of wet footprints glistening in the lights behind him.
Through the glass sliding door, you see dozens of heads turn to follow him up the stairs. And when he disappears down the hallway at the top, they all turn to see you. Alone. Tears trickling down your face to blend with the beads of water.
—
Seungkwan comes to your rescue. Swaddling you in a large beach towel before ushering you to his room, eyes daring anyone to step in his way. The walk is filled with long awkward silence, everyone watching intently, curious as to what happened on the back porch.
Depositing you on his bed, Seungkwan leaves you to yourself with a promise to return soon. Snot drips from your nose, vision blurred as you fight to stifle your pathetic sniffles, face burning as you wipe the mess away over and over again with the edge of the towel.
You take to focusing on your surroundings. The room is decorated in the same garish collection of bears and tartan as Dokyeom’s. But it only houses one measily twin bed, a long cherry stained dresser hugging alone the wall, and an air mattress pushed into the corner next to the closet. Seungkwan’s roommate is unknown to you but you’d bet money it’s Vernon’s black duffle in the corner.
Shivering in your bikini and towel, you remain on the bed as you turn to look out the window. Focusing on the different cars peppering the front lawn and driveway, your own blocked in by a black SUV.
You’ll ask Seungkwan to find the owner so they can move it. No intention of staying further into the morning than you have to.
*
On the opposite end of the house, Soonyoung listens dutifully as Dokyeom paces the limited floor space in their room.
“...and she wants to say I’m childish! Me!”
Soonyoung knows it’s in his best interest to act surprised, disgusted by the insult. But one person stormed through the house dripping water everywhere, and the other was nearly carried while she cried because of said first person.
He also realizes that this entire incident can be traced back to himself so stays quiet.
“I don’t even know why I asked her here in the first place.”
“What happened?”
Dokyeom looks at Soonyoung as if he forgot he was present at all. “What?”
“I thought you two were having fun?”
“We were. And then she asked if I liked her and before I could say anything she jumped down my throat.”
“Did she say if she liked you back?”
“No, but she obviously doesn’t.”
“I don’t know dude, she was crying pretty hard when Seungkwan brought her inside.”
As if the news shocks him like an ice bath, Dokyeom flinches before asking “She was crying?”
“Yeah she—”
The crack of the door hitting the wall silences Soonyoung. Seungkwan stands in the threshold, face eerily calm but body clenched.
“You piece of shit!” is all the warning Dokyeom gets before Seungkwan is on him.
Dokyeom is a victim of his own shock, allowing Seungkwan to put him in a headlock before he has a chance to blink.
They crash onto the bed next to Soonyoung, attempting to grapple one another as Soonyoung works to pry them apart.
“What the fuck!” Dokyeom’s voice shakes as Seungkwan snakes his arms around his neck.
“My best friend is crying her heart out in my room because of you.”
Dokyeom manages to evade, getting Seungkwan underneath him. “I didn’t do anything!”
“Bull shit!”
“STOP!” Soonyoung bellows, using a tone he rarely thinks himself capable of. The one his mom used just before she lost her shit from him and his sister fighting.
He pins them with a glare, ripping his roommate back by the collar of his sweater. “You sit the fuck down.” Then he’s on Seungkwan who watches him with a wide mouth, “You take her bag to your room.”
To their credit, they both listen. Seungkwan snatches your bag up, slamming the door so hard it rattles on its hinges as he exits. Dokyeom fumes but sits, watching the older man as plants himself on the opposite mattress once again with a hand scrubbing down his face.
“Do you like her?”
Dokyeom looks uncomfortable but answers. “Yes.”
“And you think she doesn’t like you?”
Another pause. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she—,” Dokyeom flounders, hands flailing to provide some intangible explanation.
Much to other’s doubts, Soonyoung is smarter than that.
“Because she drove almost three hours to be here? Because you guys giggle like idiots whenever you’re together?”
Dokyeom collapses backwards, head bouncing against the mattress before he sullenly sighs. “She just sees me as a friend.”
“Weirdly enough, her and Seungkwan are friends and she isn’t all over him.”
“That’s different!”
“Why?”
“If she liked me, she would have said something.”
“Maybe you’re just not listening.”
—
Seungkwan returns to his room, met with red rimmed eyes and damp cheeks as you watch him from the end of his bed. The beach towel he left you in is soaking wet, providing little protection from the mountain air that seeps through the seal in the window.
“I brought your stuff.” Seungkwan says gently, disturbed by your silence.
You notice his clothes are wrinkled, and his hair is a mess. But when you open your mouth to ask what happened, a fresh batch of tears enter the space between you.
Approaching you like a frightened animal, he pulls you into a comforting hug. “I’m sorry.”
The shoulder of Seungkwan’s long sleeve dampens like the towel as you shake. “I can’t believe he’d—.”
“It’s okay.” He coos, hand stroking the back of your head.
A few hours later, you rest on your back, bundled under the quilt of the twin bed. You’re freezing despite the layers of clothing you’d worn, curious why you hadn’t felt this cold the other night. Even when the answer is obvious you don’t dwell.
Seungkwan snores on the air mattress, whispering something undecipherable in his sleep; apparently Vernon agreed to sleep elsewhere for the night. Whether it was of his own volition or under a direct threat, you're thankful no else has to see you like this.
Closing your eyes, you try to break the barrier of sleep. You need to be up in a few hours, and god knows leaving the sanctuary of this cramped room will be exhausting enough.
—
Five in the morning on a long weekend should be a time of peace and quiet. Birds chirping into the calmness of the early dawn, dew cling to the grass in an effort to hide from the sun.
But a slip down one of the slick wooden steps sends you to your ass with a loud thud. No harm, no foul. Just a sore tailbone and another coal in the fire of your annoyance.
Closing your eyes to compose yourself, lest you scream like you’ve wanted to since last night. Several deep calming breaths, in through your nose out through your mouth, before you rise.
And at the bottom of the steps sits another reason to scream.
Dokyeom looks like shit, for lack of a better word. Hair tangled, dark locks flat in some areas and defying gravity in others. His face blotchy, eyes rimmed red with sullen dark circles curving along the top of his cheek bones, like he hasn’t slept a wink. Even his clothes are a mess, the collar of his crew neck stretched more than it was before.
All to say, he is a mirror image of you.
Staring at one another like two startled deer, you rise to your feet before tilting your chin defyingly.
Crying in front of everyone had been enough embarrassment. The next time you lose control will be in the privacy of your car as you drive back to campus, where you can wail until you lose your voice.
“Hi,” he croaks.
Ignoring him, you descend the remaining stairs, aiming to breeze past. But Dokyeom steps in your way and waits till you look up at him again.
“I’m sorry.”
Seconds tick past and neither of you break the staring contest. Grinding your teeth, you try to side step Dokyeom again but he’s right there.
“Can we talk?”
Talking is the last thing you want to do. More tears are welling behind your eyes with each beat of your heart, and if you open your mouth it’ll say whatever it takes for him to hold you again.
This time when you push against his shoulder, Dokyeom lets you go.
And you hate the part of you that wishes he didn’t.
