hello my darlings

remember be kind and kindness isn't nice it's not easy it's hard as hell but punk af // she/her, artist, 30+

[thestraybunny]

It's Always You *Y.JH*

Pairing: Non-Idol Jeonghan x F. Reader WC: 14.5+K Rating: E 18+ MDNI Genre: Non-Idol AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, smut, fluff Summary: Growing up, you and Jeonghan were inseparable, best friends, partners in crime, each other’s rocks when needed. It was always you and him against the world. Then you grew up. You moved away for college while he stayed behind. Lives took you in different directions, further away from your hometown, from the world you knew, from Jeonghan. But you both made a promise, the year you turned 31, you two would meet again no matter where life took you. To reconnect, to catch up, to remember your friendship. It was meant to be a rebirth of your friendship, but really it was the beginning of something more. And remind you that he's home

Tags: Non-Idol AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, Reuniting, mentions of teenage rebellion (smoking, drinking, other things teens shouldn’t be doing), rough housing, mention of family loss, yearning, Jeonghan is down bad, Member Appearances, drinking, smoking (weed and cigarettes), tension, flirting, angst, fluff, smut; Nickname: bug (hers) Smut tags: Unprotected sex (no don’t do this), oral (m. receiving)

A/N: Here is my second submission for the wonderful The Reef In Bloom collab by @dorereef. Thank you again to @mylovesstuffs (for letting me use your name in this too!) and @nothoughtsjustfic for hosting this collab. This was alot of fun to write and be part of. I once more am happy to be part of it. A/N2: Thank you for @gam3bo17 and @aeristudios for helping me out with this fic, and thank you Aeris for beta reading. You are the best! <3

I hope you all enjoy! My Jihoon submission will be later this week.

Seventeen Masterlist

*Twenty-four years ago*

“Yoon Jeonghan!” His mother’s voice boomed through the small home, your full name quickly following, but it was fruitless. The two of you were already running out the door, giggling, both of you with handfuls of the cookies that his mother had spent hours making.

“This way,” you tell him, and the seven-year-old boy nodded, following you without any further questions. Just like you did him.

Pushing aside a broken board in a fence, you and him slipped through into an abandoned looking backyard. On the other end of the yard, there was an old wooden shed and exactly where you were leading him. The once fresh and crisp wood now weathered from age and the elements; the door barely held onto its hinges, and a window that had several cracks in it.

Your hidden oasis. Yours and Jeonghan's little hide out.

Inside the old building, cobwebs covered corners of the walls. There was an old lawnmower that was rusted and abandoned to time and a built-in table to one side that was already filled with other snacks and drinks you both swiped from each other’s home. There were also two small sleeping bags laid out to be able to sit on the ground without getting your bottoms dirty.

“I can’t believe she fell for that,” Jeonghan giggled, setting his share of the cookies onto a broken plastic plate, one your grandmother threw away and you dug out of the trash to use in your ‘hide out’.

“I told you, she would. She’s like my grandma when she is baking.” You tell him with ease. Your seven-year-old confidence was admirable, your share joining his on the plate, except for one that you were going to eat. Taking a bite of the soft warm cookie, you continued to talk with your mouth full, “It was all a matter of striking at the right moment. You know this, Hanni.”

“She is going to be so mad at me when I get home,” He chuckled, his own mouth now full of cookies. You roll your eyes, reaching up from your place on the ground to grab two juice boxes, because you knew Jeonghan’s mom wasn’t going to be that mad. Not like your grandma would be at least. “She will be!”

“She never stays mad at you,” You quipped, dropping your cookie to cross your arms, a pout already forming. “You hardly ever get in trouble.”

“That’s not true!” Jeonghan shot back, copying you exactly, but stuck his tongue out in the process. “You don’t know how often I get in trouble. Especially because of you!”

“I don’t tell you to join in! I suggest!” You could feel your body growing hot with annoyance, dropping your arms with your fists now clenched. “You are the one who gets me in trouble all the time!”

“Yes, you do! You pulled my hair the last time I didn’t go with one of your plans!” Jeonghan snapped, and you gasped like he had just insulted your entire doll collection. Then you hit his arm, and his face darkened. “See! You hit me if I don’t agree with you!”

“You pushed me in the mud the last time I disagreed with you!” You countered, your young voices rising as you both did, getting into each other’s faces. “And I was grounded for a week after that too! I couldn’t watch TV because of you!”

Somehow this turned into a little squabble, where you and Jeonghan grabbed each other. Your hand was in his short dark hair, while he was trying to swat you off, crying out to let him go. In the middle of it, one of your feet kicked the plate that held your stolen cookies, breaking the plastic further and the baked treats were now being trampled by your feet.

“Look what you did!” Jeonghan yelled,  pointing to the cookies when he finally was able to get your hand out of his hair while you stood there. Your face contorted into anger, and more offense that he would blame you when he was being the mean one.

“I didn’t just do that! You did too!” You retorted, and the young boy rolled his eyes. “Our cookies are ruined! And so is our little spot! You need to clean that up!”

“No, you!”

“You!”

In the end, the two of you ended up sitting on opposite ends of the sleeping bags. Arms crossed, backs facing each other, while the broken cookies and plate rested between you both. The silence was loud as you both refused to be the one to speak first, both of you too stubborn to break first.

In the end it was Jeonghan who broke the silence, standing to grab another juice box for you both and a packet of candies that you liked from the table. A peace offering in a way. You shot him a look, your eyes dropping to the candies and juice box before up to his face. His gaze was softer, with an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, and you tried to keep up being mad, but the way his bottom lip jutted out as he apologized made it hard. Instead, you reached out and took the offerings, and he sat down next to you.

“Sorry too...” You mumbled, sharing the candies with him before cleaning up the broken plate and ruined cookies.

*Thirteen years ago*

“Oh my god, Jeonghan, stop hogging the joint!” You whined, reaching for the rolled up paper that had your weed in it, but Jeonghan seemed to be trying to smoke it all to himself.

“Give me. Remember its puff puff give. I only did one puff.” He retorted, holding the joint just out of your reach so you were practically falling into the eighteen-year-old boy.

“Bullshit! That was more than one; hell it was more than two! It was like three!” You argued back, your arm still outstretched to grab the joint from him, “Yoon Jeonghan, if you don’t give me that joint now, I am beating your bitch ass up.”

“Please like you can take me,” Jeonghan laughed, attempting to put the burning joint back to his lips, his other arm trying to push you back while you fought to grab it from him.

You both were back at the shed again, the same old structure still holding out even after all these years, but things were different. The old lawnmower was now gone and sitting next to the it, collecting more rust and cobwebs in its new home, the webs in the corners no longer there, and the sleeping bags had changed to an old loveseat that one of your friends found. The juice boxes and snacks that were once on the table were replaced with a pizza box, a half empty bottle of Jeonghan’s dad stolen whiskey, a baggy of cheap weed, and some rolling papers.

And the two seven-year-olds who would hide away in it with stolen snacks, or other things to entertain were now eighteen. Freshly graduated from high school, stuck in that limbo stage where you both weren’t quite adults but not quite children anymore, and preparing for the next steps in your life. You were going off to a school abroad while Jeonghan was staying back in your hometown, choosing to go to a local college first.

“God, you’re so annoying,” You pouted, practically pushing him back and sitting on his stomach to grab the joint, but laughter was filtering out of you before you could stop it. Bringing laughter from the pinned man below you, a lazy smirk played over his lips like he was meant to win this no matter what. “Jeonghan, you’re going to smoke it all!”

“Then I will buy you more!” He argued, and you slapped his chest. Grabbing your wrist before you could hit him again, Jeonghan’s grip held you there as he lifted the joint to your lips. Like instinct, you took a deep inhale, letting the harsh herb fill your lungs and altering your non-sober state more. You try to free yourself from him, so you can smoke it how you wanted, but he wouldn’t let you.

Pulling back finally, you blew the smoke from your lungs into the air, and it was then that Jeonghan let you go, only to be smacked in the chest once more before you slipped off him and back to your seat next to him. Your leg tucked under you, your bare skin pressing into the old wood by your weight, but you ignored any possible splinters that may come from it.

“You suck, you know that?” You tell him, and this earned another chuckle from him.

“And you blow. We’re both whores here.” Jeonghan teased, placing the joint between his lips to rest his arms behind his head. Each breath inhaled the smoke from nearly finished joint into his lungs. His long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, but there were several strands that fell loose around his face.

His old Sublime shirt torn in a different place and showed off his stomach from the way he was laying, skinny jeans, and a gold chain with angel wings that was once yours laying against his throat. Skin glowing from the setting sun and the lantern behind you both, making him look ethereal.

You envied how beautiful your best friend was.

“Give me that,” You quipped, taking the chance to swipe the joint from him. A triumphant smile was playing over your lips before you realized that it was nearly gone. “You asshole, you smoked most of this.”

“And you drank most of my whiskey. Call us even.” He answered dismissively, closing his eyes briefly.

“Whatever,” you told him, taking whatever hit you can of the joint before putting it out, smashing it hard against the wood. Silence followed, the two of you sitting at the doorway of the shed, your eyes scanning the overgrown yard and the half burnt down house just feet from you.

It’d been like that for years, with no one coming to do anything about the destroyed home or the property it stood on, making it a haven for you and Jeonghan growing up, and a place of many things. Your first kiss with a boy that smelled like he used a whole can of body spray to cover that he hadn’t bathed, Jeonghan’s first kiss with a girl who tried to fight you over him.

You spent nights in the shed to avoid your grandparents and their old fashion but offensive words, many with Jeonghan right next to you. Refusing to leave you while you refused to crash at his place, because you knew his mom would call your grandparents. You got high and drunk for the first time with him next to you, and blasted music through a shitty speaker that neither of you could explain the origin of.

Hell, you two used it as a place to hide once when you had the cops called on you for stealing. You don’t think either of you had ever been so scared thinking you were caught, but it didn’t stop you because the thrill left you both laughing until your stomach hurts.

You laughed, cried, and felt every emotion you could think of in this shed, with Jeonghan beside you. In a week's time, you will be on a plane to a new country with a family friend willing to house you during your studies, and away from your home. Away from your life, away from the little shed. Away from the comforting blanket of your hometown.

Away from Jeonghan.

“You’re thinking too loud again,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, turning your gaze toward your best friend. He was still laying back; arms folded behind his head as a pillow and prop, with his eyes on you. A small sad smile played on his lips, because he knew what you were thinking about too. “Talk to me, bug.”

"You're a bug. I should squish you," You answer back, matching his smile as you watched him let our a breathy laugh.

“I would like to see you try. You couldn’t even get the joint from me.” He then lifts his leg to nudge you with his knee. “Now, talk to me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I mean, yeah your face is, but it’s at least pretty while being it.” He offered and you slapped his knee. He then sat up, giving you the famous lazy Jeonghan smirk you grew up seeing, but you could tell it was only a front.

“Just… growing up.” You told him, gesturing between the two of you, “We’re no longer kids anymore…”

“Debatable.” He murmured while you spoke.

“…we graduated high school and are preparing to be thrusted into the real world. We’re having to finally grow up and face life. I’m…” The words failed you then, and in its place was a soft choking sound. A sob that wanted to burst through, but you managed to swallow it back while blinking the sudden tears that wanted to fall. Jeonghan could see it all as he nodded. “I’m leaving… leaving everything I know…” This time your voice cracked, “Leaving you.”

“Please, the moment you agreed to marry me on the playground at five you were stuck with me.” Jeonghan answered, doing what he did best, trying to make light of something instead of showing what he’s really feeling. And you hated that it would work more times than it didn’t. “Just… there is going to be some distance between us. It’s not like I’m not a phone call or message away, and we’ll see each other again. This isn’t a final thing.”

“It feels like it is.” This comment made him tsk at you.

“It doesn’t to me.” He shook his head, watching through broken windows as a car passed by. The driver wouldn’t even know you were sharing one of the last times together before life took hold of you. One of the last times you would be free like this, this age, in the moment, and with the only person, besides your grandparents, who stuck by your side.

Someone you grew up with, someone you got into trouble with, someone who never was fake with you. Someone you saw every day and spent most of it with. Your best friend.

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. How could it be when we are still so young?” He asked simply and you could only listen to him, “It’s also not like you are leaving for good. Your grandparents are still here; your friends are here… I am here.”

“But what if our lives don’t allow room for each other anymore?” This earned another tsk, as well as an offending sounding laugh. Hurt flashed across his eyes before he looked away, like it was preposterous to even say something like that.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ll always have room for you in my life.” He said curtly, and you dropped your shoulders while making an over exasperated sigh. That wasn’t what you meant.

“Ugh, Hanni, I don’t mean it like that.” He turns his attention back to you, before flashing it toward the whiskey bottle. “I mean... what if even when I come home… we don’t have time for each other? We don’t get to see each other. You’re going to be working, going to school, and eventually you’re going to fall in love and have a partner. Same for me too.”

“I’m not sure how that sounds any different than your previous statement,” Jeonghan mumbled this, pushing his lip out in a pout. Reaching out, he caught a tear falling with his thumb, only to yank his hand away and shake it like he touched lava. This did what he wanted it to, which was to laugh.

“Hanni…”

“It’s okay. I forgive you for hurting my feelings. This is a hard time for us both,” There was so much honesty to his words, it was also written all over his face. He was trying to not think about the inevitable, which was you were leaving. Not the forever he had declared, but it was still hard. “It’s not just you losing something, I’m losing my best friend. My partner in crime. Who am I going to get into mischief with? Joshua?”

“I mean… at least he’ll keep you from getting arrested.”

“If he’s not too busy fucking anything that will let him.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes, “But I’m serious. You’re not the only one who loses something in this. Except I’m not accepting that this is it, because it’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do, I’m Yoon fucking Jeonghan. I can bend the will of others with a flick of my wrist, and this will bend to my will.” You still don’t look convinced, and he clicks his tongue before speaking again, “How about this? If life takes us on different paths that separate us further, then the year we turn thirty-one, we meet again. You and me… and any husbands, wives, fiancés, life partners or children we may have. Somewhere nice, somewhere where our busy lives can’t touch us. Where we can catch up, and remember that it’s always been us, and it will always be us.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now ask me what will happen if life doesn’t do that.” He smirks, and you giggle.

“What will happen if life doesn’t?”

“Then we do it still!” He announced throwing his arms up, before one found its way over your shoulder. “No matter what, no matter where life takes us, we meet the year we turn thirty-one.”

“Why thirty-one though?”

“Because it’s too cliché to meet when we turn thirty. Goodness, this isn’t one of those romance movies you make me watch.” He gave you a brief squeeze before getting up to grab the whiskey bottle. “So, what you say?”

“I can easily argue that the last three romances we watched was because of you, not me.” Jeonghan sat back down next to you, the bottle in his hand, but it remained unopen. His attention was on you, his eyes watching you as you try to find the words. Every part of him told you that he was serious about this, and it helped ease an ache that was building in you. “And let’s do it.”

“Perfect. Now let’s drink to the future.”

A week later, you were clinging to him at the airport as your grandfather got your luggage together. This time tears weren’t holding back, Jeonghan wasn’t able to say anything to help because he was busy fighting his own. Instead, he just held you as you gripped at the offensive SpongeBob shirt he was wearing, soaking it with not just your tears, but the mascara and eyeliner you had thickly drawn on. Only to have it cried away telling your best friend goodbye for now.

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice was soft when he pulled back, making you look at him. His eyes were shining, and red. Evidence that he’d been crying, though you knew he’d insist he’s actually high, and it nearly broke you. “Remember what I said. The year we turn thirty-one.”

You nodded, and he gives you a soft smile.

“I’ll send you the details, so make sure you have the entire year free.” He teased and you let out a soft laugh before jumping from him, pinching you. You break away from his grasp to hit his shoulder. This earned a soft laugh from you, your eyes dropping to the angel wing necklace that still rested around his neck.

“I’ll be sure to have all my information changed by then.” You laughed, and he pinched your side again. Your name then came from behind you both, your grandparents calling to you. It was time to go. Looking back at Jeonghan, you gave him a watery smile, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” This was the first time his voice finally cracked, and a tear started to fall. It was real. It was happening.

“I’ll text you when I land.”

“You better.” He teased. “I will see you again.”

“See you again.”

**A year ago**

Your phone chimed right as you were cooking dinner, cutting off the music playing briefly, but you weren’t able to stop what you were doing to look. Too focused on making sure that you didn’t burn anything, but the couple that was in the kitchen with you noticed.

“Need me to check that?” You heard Celeste ask, and you looked over your shoulder, to her and Soonyoung grabbing the plates and cutlery for the table.

“No, it’s okay. I can check it later,” You waved her off, “Dinners ready, and we have a proposal to go over.”

“I thought there was no work talk at dinner?” Soonyoung teased, making you shoot your friend and co-owner a look, only to earn a playful wink back. He then turned to his fiancé with a smile, “If we’re working while we eat, you might as well open two bottles. One for us and one just for her.”

“Watch it Kwon, or I’ll run this company with Celeste instead” You warned him, grateful that Celeste was already stepping in to grab his collar to drag him out of the kitchen with everything to arrange at the table.

Twenty minutes later, the three of you were sitting around the table, two wine bottles open with one in front of you and one between the couple. You all were talking animatedly about the proposal that you and Soonyoung were putting together, hoping that the potential investor takes on your ideas and help launch your small business globally. Soonyoung had been right to have your own bottle open; it helped ease the tension that was building in your shoulders over all this, and there were more laughs than not.

“I think we should add some tiger imagery to the presentation; you think we can do that?” Soonyoung suggested a wine glass coming up to his lips, only for it to be stopped by his fiancé. He looks at her with confusion as she only shook her head. Celeste supported his love for tigers, but even she knew when to draw the line.

“I should hire you as our creative director,” You joked, tipping your own wine glass in her direction. “You can save me from a lot of tiger themed merchandise and advertising.”

“I love you, but if I took that, I probably would be canceling the wedding instead of planning a honeymoon,” Celeste laughed, and Soonyoung looked offended. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I know how you are when you’re working. We met at work, remember?”

“Of course, I do. I barely was able to focus at meetings because all I wanted to do was look at you,” You actively rolled your eyes as the couple stared at each other like they hung the sun and the moon for each other, and it reminded you just how single you have been for the last few years. Happily single, but not when you were around these two being so sickeningly in love.

“Gag me.” You muttered making the two look at you. Celeste playfully stuck her tongue at you, and Soonyoung pretended to growl. That was when you knew that you had lost them both to being lovey toward each other. You took this chance to check your phone, remembering it had gone off while you were cooking.

It was a message. From Jeonghan.

Your eyes widened as your fingers tightened around the stem of your glass, or you were going to drop it onto the table and spill wine all over the place. Casting your eyes up, you were relieved to see your two friends were still too busy staring at each other to notice your reaction.

You and him hadn’t really spoken in nearly six years, not since you came home for your grandfather’s funeral. Of course, you would wish each other a happy birthday, send the occasional meme, or a quick hello, but other than that, you barely spoke. You didn’t want to admit that it was hard for you to respond because it made you want to go back to being that eighteen-year-old again.

But you knew what this was about. You had turned thirty recently, and his thirtieth was a few months away, which meant that the promise the two of you had made at eighteen, smoking and drinking in that abandoned shed, was also coming due. And he was reaching out to solidify the plans.

You should’ve waited to read and respond after your friends left, when you had time to yourself, but you didn’t. Clicking the notification, you unlocked the phone to read the message. Only to find it was confirmation for your plane tickets, and a set of dates. The first week of April next year, and for a week.

Back home. Where you hadn’t stepped foot in nearly six years.

A few more messages had followed.

Jeonghan: Told you to keep your schedule open. Jeonghan: See you in April, bug.

**two days before**

You might’ve been overthinking it. No, you were overthinking this as you stared at an empty suitcase, piles of clothes folded around it on your bed, bags of new clothes at the foot of the bed, and your toiletries all laid out on your bathroom counter. All waiting to be packed.

None of your clothes had felt right, the makeup you chose to bring felt too plain, and your nerves were starting to suffocate you. A part of you felt like you shouldn’t feel this nervous, because it was just Jeonghan, but another part felt you were justified because it was Jeonghan. You hadn’t seen him in person since your grandfather’s funeral, only ever seeing his life through photos that he posted online.

Picture of him traveling with Joshua, and with your other friends, and relationships that never seemed to last a few months before the person disappeared from his photos. You watched his success in becoming a pharmacist like he had always wanted and was making a life for himself. He owned his own home, and he appeared happy with his life.

You had done the same, but away from him. You made a life where you now were, and selfishly barely looked back; especially after your grandfather had passed. You made friends where you were, had relationships, started a business with Soonyoung, and you made a life for yourself. You had become a different person, like he had.

This fact wasn’t the only thing that had your nerves starting to settle uneasy in your gut. You were both different, and what if that difference was so great that neither of you could enjoy your time together again. Uncomfortable strangers the entire week instead of old friends looking to reconnect.Not only that, but what if also being back home made it worse? That being there was more painful than it should be, and it made you resent your oldest friend for bringing you back?

Then your phone chimed, with a message coming through.

Jeonghan: See you when you land. Jeonghan: And stop overthinking things. I can hear your thoughts all the way over here. Haha.

That made you burst out in a laugh, because of course this silly line he used to say to you growing up would help loosen some tightness in you. It didn’t settle your nerves though, it only unraveled them, so they weren’t making you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

You responded.

You: Too late, so deal with it.

His response was instantaneous.

Jeonghan: Gladly.

**April**

You swore this entire journey had been one big April Fool’s joke with the way everything had gone wrong. You managed to finally pack everything, though you still weren’t happy with your choices you couldn’t just go naked, but you overslept the morning of your flight. The ride you had ordered was canceled at the last minute, making you late to the airport and nearly missed boarding.

Checking in had been a nightmare, and then there was a delay taking off.

When the plane did finally set off, you thought you would be in the clear for now. It would be smooth flying after this, and the bad luck got itself out of the way now than following you the entire trip. You hoped that the long flight will go well and give you a chance to rest, or Jeonghan was going to see you have an absolute crash out over it all.

You managed to get enough sleep, so you weren’t as cranky when you landed, but it left you feeling stiff. You even tried to stretch some before unboarding, but it and the awkward shuffling didn’t help. Gripping at your carryon, your focus was to get your suitcase and out of the airport. There’s a bed somewhere calling to you, and you were ready to meet the call.

With your suitcase now secured, you checked your phone to see if Jeonghan was there yet after insisting on picking you up instead of ordering a ride. Except when you looked around the semi-crowded airport, you didn’t see him anywhere. There was no sight of the famous Jeonghan smirk, no sign being dramatically held up with your name, or anything like that.

Your phone started to ring in your hands.  

“Where are you?” You answered, pressing the device to your ear and skipping any and all pleasantries. This earned a chuckle on the other side, and your eyes immediately narrowed. Even with the time apart, you knew never to trust that chuckle.

“About that…” He started slowly, showing you were right not to trust it. There was no way he was going to try and fuck with you, but you should’ve known better, “I am running late, car troubles, won’t be there for a few hours. You’re going to have to wait until I get there.”

“Yoon Jeonghan…” You took in a slow breath, trying to fight the annoyance that was bubbling under the surface. No, he wasn’t going to do this to you after the trip you’ve just had, “You better not be fucking with me right now.”

“I wish, I could say I was,” There was a sigh to his voice, but before you could let him have it, he continued, “I am very sorry, bug. I wish I was there to see you right now. With your hair an absolute mess, your sweater falling off you, and the way you are pouting right now. It’s so cute.”

“Huh?” You blinked, looking down at your body. Your sweater had fallen from your shoulders and was resting right at your elbows while strands of your hair escaped the loose ponytail you had put up. How the hell did he know if he wasn’t there? Before you could question it, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. Twisting around, Jeonghan was standing there.

The phone still pressed to his ear, eyes shining with excitement and mischief, and that smirk that you once knew oh so well. His hair was shorter than the last time you seen him with it back to his natural dark brown. He was in a simple black t-shirt with a matching jacket and a pair of white pants, and you couldn’t stop the way your heart skipped at the sight of him.

“April Fool’s. Forgive me?” He teased, barely able to hang up the call before you were throwing your arms around his neck for a hug. The force of you jumping into him made Jeonghan stumble back slightly, but once he was able to catch his footing, his arms wrapped around your waist.

He pulled you so close your body was pressed against his like he had been desperate for this moment, but you were no better. Nuzzling your nose into his shirt, taking in the scent of his perfume and the way he held you tight. His own nose pressed to your hair, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume and shampoo, fingers flexing and squeezing gently at your sides.

Both of you forgot that you were still in the middle of the airport.

“You asshole!” You finally bursted out when the two of you parted, slapping his arm while he laughed at you attempting to scold him. He saw the smile forming over your lips, making the smirk he was wearing turn into a genuine smile. One that nearly stole the very breath from you, “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.” He still hadn’t let go of you, his hands resting on your hips like they always belonged there, his gaze drinking you in. Then he stepped back, withdrawing his hold on you to reach for your suitcase handle, “Now, let’s get out of here before you shove me into the cargo hold of one of these planes.”

“You would deserve it,” You retorted earning an eye roll from him. One hand placed firmly against the small of your back, and the other pulling your suitcase behind you. With cool precision, Jeonghan directed you out of the airport while chatting with you about his day and asking you about your flight.

Like it was all part of a daily conversation you would always have, and there was no time between your last full conversation that wasn’t in text.

“After you,” Jeonghan announced, making sure to open the passenger door for you while providing an overexaggerated bow that made you playfully swat his shoulder. A giggle escaped you as you got into the car, while he finished putting your suitcase in the back. Settling into the driver’s seat, he flashed you a lazy smile and you missed the way his hand twitched slightly to reach for yours. Instead he put the car into drive. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You know, you never told me where I was staying.” You told him, your eyes watching the way the town looked now. Businesses that were once there on the main street gone, replaced with franchise stores and popular food spots. Places that you once occupied with your friends or grandparents gone, showing that the town was growing and changing like you had.

It didn’t feel like your old home, but there was still something about it that told you it was. Just with a different look.

“Easy. With me.” He said with no hesitation, making you look at him. He had a pair of black sunglasses on, leaning back against the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel while the other rested on his lap. Looking relaxed as he drove through the familiar streets. Stopping at a light, he cast a glance your way and you weren’t sure, but you thought that his relaxed smile faltered slightly. “Rather get a room? The old motel is still open, but you might have to cuddle with some roaches and a few rats.”

“I think I am good on that,” You don’t hide your look of disgust, and this made Jeonghan start laughing as the light turned. “I would like the bed I sleep on be free of other occupants.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, his focus on the road letting silence fall over you. The radio was playing quietly, and you started to notice the familiar names of the streets.

They were the same names you would see every day growing up, the same streets you used to run around growing up. You chance a glance toward Jeonghan, only to find his focus on the road but the look on his face told you that he was waiting for your reaction.

Especially once he turned on the familiar street that the two of you grew up on.

“I knew you moved close to family, but I didn’t know you…” The words stopped in your throat when you pulled up to a beautiful home. It looked newer compared to the others on the street. White with grey trimming and a neatly cut yard with a stone pathway that lead right up to a small porch with a planter next to the door.

It was beautiful and unfamiliar, but you knew this property. It didn’t matter how long it had been since you came back; you knew exactly where you were.

“Come on, bug. Let’s get inside.” Jeonghan didn’t give you a chance to process your thoughts before he was shutting off the engine and unbuckle both of your belts. He was out of the car, leaving you there staring at the empty seat that he had once occupied.

It was the sound of the trunk closing that you were able to kick start back up and rushed to get out the car to follow him up the small pathway to the front door. Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes wide staring at the home and Jeonghan’s back.

Once inside, you didn’t stop to look around the home, instead your feet took you from the front door, through the open living room to a set of glass doors. If Jeonghan had said something to you, you didn’t hear it because your focus was getting to the backyard. You barely looked around the yard itself, just that it was well taken care of.

No, your focus was on the shed that was in the same familiar place. You could feel tears starting to burn your eyes, memories flooding back to you, your eyes flicking over to the fence that once had a broken board. It was fixed with forsythias and azaleas flourishing in front of it, but you could still see a young Jeonghan popping through it while you waited for him at the shed.

“It’s not the same one.” Jeonghan said softly behind you, but you didn’t look back, not wanting him to see a few tears fall. “The old owners finally sold the property four years ago to a realtor company. They rebuilt the house and tore down it before putting the place back on the market.”

“And you bought it.” You responded, finally looking at him. He had his hands in his pants pockets, balancing on the balls on his feet, while his eyes were on you, catching more tears starting to fall.

“Yeah, well, with the help from my parents. With conditions obviously,” Jeonghan continued, keeping his attention on you, “Moment I moved in, I had the shed put back in. It’s used to actually store shit, not a hang out like we used to have it, but just something didn’t feel right without it there.”

“What was the conditions?” You asked in a small voice, trying to wipe away the wetness from your face, when Jeonghan caught your elbow. Pulling you into a hug, he let out a soft tsk.

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” It was a clear deflection, but he wouldn’t let you wiggle away from him to call him out. Then his hands found its way to your sides and started to tickle you.

“Jeonghan!” You let out a small squeal, giggling while trying to get away from him. His own laughter mixed through yours in a sweet melody, helping you forget your tears.

“Come on, let me show you to your room.” His arm thrown lazily over your shoulder, directing you back toward the house. “And no roaches or rats to cuddle with.”

Jeonghan gave you a brief tour of his home, a kitchen and living room open floor style. Three bedrooms, the larger one with an ensuite on one side, while the two smaller ones with a Jack n Jill style on the other. Your room faced the yard, giving you perfect view of the shed, while Jeonghan had the larger room.

He left you to unpack and get cleaned up from your travels. The shower felt good, hot water helping you loosen the still sore muscles from your long flight and fight off the fatigue that you didn’t know was creeping up on you. By the time you had gotten out, your skin felt flushed from the heat with your hands and feet slightly wrinkled. The towel Jeonghan had left out was dark grey, soft and fluffy and felt like heaven against your skin.

It felt good to be out of your airport clothes and in a soft pair of leggings and oversized t-shirt. Your hair was still slightly damp, so you left it loose around your bare face Now that you were back around Jeonghan, the nerves you were feeling all but melted away and didn’t feel like you needed to look all done up just to lounge around the house.

“Hope you’re hungry.” He announced proudly when you finally emerged, setting two beer bottles on the table with a spread of take out. He wasn’t looking your way. “You took so long I managed to make us a feast.”

“Make us a feast huh?” You laughed, crossing your arms as you take in the sight before you. “Wanted to make sure it was authentically homemade by including the plastic containers?”

“I mean, only the best for…” His words died on his tongue as he went to look at you, his hand slowly dropping to his side. There was a flicker of awe and desire that went across his face before he shook his head, and it was replaced with a smirk. “…you...”

“I feel so honored,” You went to pull out of the chairs to sit, but Jeonghan had beat you to it by pulling it out for you instead, before taking a seat next to you, focusing on the containers. Grabbing both beers, you popped them open with ease and set them down in front of you both.

Dinner consisted of the two of you stuffing your faces, battling over the last pieces of meat, which he won by cheating at rock, paper, scissors. You drank several beers between you each while talking about work, friends, family, and life. You told him about meeting Celeste in college then later Soonyoung through her, the jewelry business that you and him thought up after too many bottles of wine, how it actually was doing well, and the couple’s upcoming wedding.

While Jeonghan told you about college, the trouble him and their friends got into, updated you on his parents and sister, and about the pharmacy he works at with Joshua. You laughed over stories, and it felt like no time had passed between you.

“What about relationships?” Jeonghan asked, leaning back in his chair with a beer close to his lips, watching the way you swirled your beer around in the bottle. “Anyone special?”

“Just a vibrator named Owini with two I’s.” This made Jeonghan raise a brow as he took a sip. “O.W.I.N.I. Orgasm when I need it.”

“Clever.” He coughed out after nearly choking on his beer, laughing at the name.

“What about you? Anyone in your life?” It was your turn to watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. Jeonghan was leaning back against the chair, looking forward with a half-smile playing over his lips.

“No one special. At least not for a long time.” He answered finally, finishing his beer with a smack to his lips. Licking them, he sat the beer down onto the table before standing and stretched. He ignores the confused expression on your face with his sudden movements, “Let’s get this all cleaned up bug and have a few more beers. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

You nod your head slowly, following suit to help throw away the empty containers and put away anything that you two didn’t finish. When you were done, Jeonghan grabbed a few more beers from the fridge and met you at the sofa to find something to watch. Picking some random movie that you couldn’t remember the name, both of you talked and laughed until all the beers were empty and Jeonghan was half asleep on the sofa.

**Day 2**

“Oh, it is so good to see you sweetie!” Jeonghan’s mother wouldn’t let go of you, hugging you tightly as if you were going to disappear on her if she did. The next day the two of you had gone to his parents’ for lunch on his mother’s insistence, “I missed you, my dear.”

“I missed you too,” You answered, giving Jeonghan a ‘save me’ look when she didn’t let go, only for him he didn’t come to save you, instead just watched with mild amusement from his place against the kitchen counter. Releasing you from the hug, she grasped your shoulders to look at you, making you turn your gaze back to her.

“You should not stay away so long,” She scolded, leaning forward like she was revealing a secret, “Our Hanni has not been the same since the last time you left.”

“Oh…” You let out a nervous laugh, looking back toward Jeonghan with a questioning gaze, but he was no longer looking at you. Instead, he was staring warning daggers into his mother’s back. It reminded you how he wouldn’t look at you the previous night either, but before you could say anything further, you were being lead to a table full of food.

“Sit, sit. I hope you are hungry, I made all of your favorites.” You were then gently pushed into a seat, with Jeonghan following and took a seat next to you, “Oh goodness, I forgot drinks. Let me grab those.”

“I told her not to do all this, but she insisted,” Jeonghan had muttered so only you could hear.

“I believe it,” You responded back, leaning toward him with a raised brow, “What did she mean by you haven’t been the same?”

“Nothing, just missed my best friend is all,” He answered simply. For a brief moment you thought his gaze dropped to your lips before he looked away to speak with his mother. Changing the subject all together as well.

The rest of the visit had consisted of more catching up, with Jeonghan’s father and sister coming by to join in, but you were barely able to pay attention. You couldn’t stop looking over toward Jeonghan, feeling that there was something more than ‘he just missed his best friend’.  Like true Jeonghan fashion, he didn’t give anything away.

There was a possibility that you might be looking too much into it, reminding yourself that before you left for college, the two of you were with each other every day, and were inseparable. Hell, every time you came home, you and Jeonghan would always be together. Then after your grandfather passed away, you just… stopped coming back.

It wasn’t that you had wanted to stay away, it just was harder to come back now that both your grandparents were gone. It was hard to come back when you no longer would walk into the home you grew up to them, and life just kept getting into the way. Work ended up taking precedence since you and Soonyoung were focused on your jewelry company, finding the time off had grew harder, or whatever excuse you gave to make yourself feel better for not coming back.

You had known that it had affected Jeonghan, going from having his best friend every day to a few times a year to sparse messages and social media posts, but you didn’t think that meant ‘he hasn’t been the same’.

After leaving the Yoons’, you went with him to run a few errands that he’d needed to run, and the entire time you still had his mother’s words playing in your head. Which he noticed, but like him, you wouldn’t give anything away, giving the excuse you were just in a food coma.

“I don’t believe you, just so you know.” He told you, pushing up his sunglasses with one finger while his other hand rested on the steering wheel. Casting a glance toward you, he noticed that you were looking out the passenger window. “You can keep your secrets for now, but I will get them out of you. I always do.”

“I can say the same for you.” You chirped back, your eyes on the different buildings passing by, taking in the different buildings. Some familiar, some different. You could hear him let out a breathy laugh. “You have your secrets, and I have mine. If I have to spill so will you.”

“Touche, bug.”

Once back to Jeonghan’s, you disappeared into your room to answer some emails and make a few calls for work. You may have been on a trip, but that didn’t mean that you were truly on vacation, and the workload never ends. Soonyoung was a great business partner and assured you that he had it all handled so you can enjoy your time away (since you would be doing the same when he and Celeste went on their honeymoon), but you needed a bit of a distraction.

“You hungry?” Jeonghan had asked at one point, knocking at your door as he opened it. A smile playing over his lips seeing you sitting cross legged on your bed, laptop open in front of you. You had changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a baggy sweater, your hair pulled back out of your face (save for a strand that wouldn’t stay) and look of concentration on your face.

You didn’t hear the hitch in his breath when you looked up at him, that look of concentration melt away to a small smile as you shook your head.

“I’m still full from that feast your mom made us,” You answered with a laugh, looking back to the laptop and to the email you had been working on. “I’m almost done here, just need to send off a few more emails, and then call Soonyoung regarding a large order of smokey quartz for our Smokey collection. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“You do know the whole point of this trip was to also not worry about work?” Jeonghan teased, making his way to the bed and flopped down onto the empty space next to you. Rolling onto his side, he looked up at you with his dark round eyes, shining with mischief with his hand inching toward the laptop to shut. Which you reached out and took with yours, holding it as you placed it back onto the bed. Making him pout.

“I am almost done, I promise.” You told him, not expecting the sudden urge to lean forward to kiss the pout he was sporting, nor the way you were still holding his hand. Or that he had adjusted the hold so that your fingers were laced together.

“Well, when you’re done, I’ll be right here.” He responded, finally letting go of your hand to roll onto his back, pulling his phone out to scroll. You raised your brow at him, he didn’t even look your way when he added, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m lonely out there and you’re in here working.”

“Price to pay on owning your own business.”

Though you did manage to get some work done, you couldn’t really concentrate with Jeonghan lying next to you, now fast asleep with his phone resting face down on his chest. The soft clicking of your fingers against the keys had lulled him into a sleep and you found yourself watching him several times. Taking in the way he still looked like the boy you had grown up with, only older. Thick lashes kissing his skin, skin still smooth but with the hints of age coming through. The lips that were pouting at you earlier, soft and plush looking, partially open with a soft snore leaving him. He looked peaceful, he looked breathtaking, he looked like he was where he was meant to be. Next to you. Your Jeonghan.

Your heart fluttered at this notion, the words your Jeonghan felt different even in your head. Or was it always this way and you just ignored it since he was your best friend.

When you finished your emails and came time to call Soonyoung, you chose to take it outside to not disturb the sleeping man next to you. You also wanted to enjoy the evening weather, finding yourself sitting on the step of the shed to take your call and maybe clear your head some.

The shed wasn’t the same, but the memories were still there when you sat down on the newer wood. The years you and Jeonghan spent in the old rickety building that once stood there, doing things that looking back neither of you had any business doing as teenagers. Drinking, smoking, and everything else that came with being rebellious teens and too much freedom to do it all.

It shaped who you both were as adults, and still a part of who you were. Even if you tried to run away.

“There you are.” Jeonghan’s tired voice had pulled you from your thoughts and tore your gaze from a patch in the grass to him. His face slightly puffy from sleep, and a yawn escaping him as he made his way to you before flashing you a lazy half grin. “Was wondering where you went.”

“I had to call Soonyoung and you were snoring. I didn’t want to wake you or have him questioning if I was next to a walrus.” You teased, unable to stop the corners up your lips to twitch up, earning a chuckle from the slender man.

“So, kind of you.” He muttered reaching you, leaning against the wall of the shed. The sun had already dropped past the horizon, but there was still a glow to the yard, emphasizing the shadows and adding a hauntingly beautiful look to the spring evening. “Clocked out now?”

“I’m always clocked in.” This made him chuckle, before slipping into his pocket to pull out a lighter and a joint. With the rolled herb between his lips, he lit it with the lighter. Taking a deep inhale, you watched him blow the smoke out. Looking your way, he offered it.

“You still smoke?” He asked, and you looked at the joint then back to his face. A brow raised, “Vernon managed to find some for me. I haven’t smoked since the last time you were here…”

“I actually quit myself,” You told him reaching out to take the burning herb and took a hit of it. The paper was damp from his lips, and the smoke felt harsher than it had in the past, making you cough out the cloud of smoke instead of inhaling it. You managed to take another pull from it, filling your lung with the herbal smoke. Allowing the head change take effect.

A silence followed, just the two of you passing the joint between you. Leaning back, your eyes went up toward the sky to take in the darkening sky as the stars start to appear. While Jeonghan just watched you.

“What did you mom mean?” You asked softly, after a few minutes of feeling his gaze and the joint passing between you. Looking down at the nearly finished joint, now a roach at this point, flicking some ash handing off it. “How weren’t you the same?”

“Were you?” He returned your question with one of his own, reaching for what was left of the joint. You let out a scoff.

“Of course I wasn’t. I lost both my grandparents within a year of each other, had to watch my uncle stick that stupid for sale sign in the ground before the dirt settle so he could pay his debts…” You waved your hand in the air at nothing, before dropping it into your lap. Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you continued. “I was hurting, I was angry at my uncle, I felt like I had nothing here that was mine anymore, and I just wanted to run away.” You took a breath, closing your eyes to hold back the angry tears that were prickling behind them. Remembering that feeling ruined your high. “I left already not the same, but how were you?”

Jeonghan didn’t respond for a moment, the flick of the lighter making you look toward him to find that a second joint appeared and was lighting it. He took a quick inhale of the sweet herb, before handing it to you.

“You need this more than I do,” He muttered as you took it, making you tempted to throw it at him and tell him to go fuck himself, but you stopped yourself. He looked up toward the sky, crossing his arms and you took in how he looked. His baggy jeans, and a shirt that had enough room for the both of you, hair sticking up from sleeping in your bed, and a pair of wired glasses. Ones he had to of thrown on after waking up.

You were slow to take a hit of the herb, watching him carefully.

“You had me.” He finally said, not answering your question. It should’ve infuriated you and call him out if you didn’t look so confused. Licking his lips, he looked at you before repeating himself. “You had me here still. I thought I was home for you too.”

Maybe he was answering after all, in his own cryptic way.

“You were… you are…” You told him, before sighing, “I don’t regret how long I’ve been gone, but I do regret not keeping in touch better with you. I should’ve tried better for that.”

“Maybe, but you’re here now.” Jeonghan leaned forward and took the joint from you. “I plan to make sure you remember that you’re home with me.”

You watched as the joint pressed between his lips, the way his eyes closed slightly as he took a hit, unable to tear your gaze away. Slowly his eyes opened and you could see there was a sign of mischief there. Hiding away the vulnerableness that he’d been displaying. You watch the way his own gaze dropped to your lips then back to your eyes, blowing the smoke gently from the side of his mouth.

“Why do I feel like you are trying to make me fall in love with you?” You asked, meaning for it to be a tease but it came out breathier then you meant. Part of you thinking he might kiss you, but instead he let out a laugh, leaning back against the shed wall. Like nothing happened.

“Who knows, maybe I am.”

**Day 3**

To say you didn’t really do anything was a bit of an understatement. There has been no plans for the day, aside from the plans to meet friends later, so you just laid around. Collecting your energy for a night out drinking and spending time with old friends. Well, at this point they felt more like Jeonghan’s friends rather than your own, but he had insisted that wasn’t the case. That everyone missed you and were excited to see you again.

Jeonghan also continued on the day like the previous night didn’t happen, as if he didn’t look at you like he wanted to kiss you, or ‘joke’ about you falling in love with him. He just laid around with you, bugging you at random times about how bored he was, but wouldn’t get up to do anything. He would whine about how warm you were, but he seemed to scoot closer instead of away.

He would random poke you if you weren’t paying attention to him, complain about anything you turned on, but refused to choose anything. And the entire time used his pouty voice if you snapped at him.

 “That’s it!” You growled out, grabbing the hand that attempted to pull a strand of hair falling into your face, distracting you so his other hand could tickle at your side. With his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your tank that had ridden up, making you jolt and grab that hand as well. Wrestling to get him to stop.

You’d forgotten that Jeonghan was a lot stronger than he looked, and could easily break your hold, but instead he was letting you think you were overpowering him. Filling the room with laugher, and in your wrestle, you found yourself straddling him.

Then you both froze, realizing how close you were. The tips of your noses brushing, both breathing heavy from the exertion, eyes locked with a new emotion coursing through you. Deeper than desire. Your hold then loosened on his wrists.

Now this wasn’t the first time you had ended up like this, you had many times in the past wrestling with each other. You’d done it since you were kids, with it always ending with you both laughing and unable to keep annoying the other.

This time…this time it was all different.

Your name fell from his lips before you were kissing him, which Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to return. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you closer until your chest was flushed against each other. A whimper left you at the desperation that flooded him, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, wanting more—which you willing gave him.

His lips felt like heaven against yours, and the way his tongue teased yours it left you needing more of him. More and more. Your fingers pushing through his soft strands, while his dug into your hips to pulling them down to grind on him. Feeling him already hardening underneath the soft grey fabric of his sweats, making you grow hot with need and dampen your underwear.

Then you broke from the kiss, staring at your best friend in shock while he stared at you with desperate need in his heavy lidded eyes. His bottom lip swollen from your kiss, hands still holding onto your hips like a vice, and his arousal pressing against you. With your own body ablaze with the same need right down to your core.

“I…” You scrambled off him to stand, “I… we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry… I… I need to get ready for tonight.”

Before Jeonghan could answer or stop you, you were already rushing to your room. Slamming the door behind you as you went, leaving him to stare at the space where you had been standing. Licking his lips, he slammed his fist onto the sofa cushion in frustration but stopped the frustrated groan that wanted to escape. Standing, he took off toward his room.

The ordered ride to the bar was an awkward one, with neither of you would speak or look at each other. You on one side of the backseat, playing with the pockets of your cargo pants before readjusting your tank and cardigan, the fabric not feeling like they fit right. While Jeonghan sat on the other side, looking out the window while his own hands were balled into fists on his lap.

The kiss hung between you, leaving you unsure how to approach it while Jeonghan was just unreadable. There’d been moments you thought he was angry with you, others he seemed frustrated, and then finally he appeared…sad. It ate at you, making it even harder to find the words.

The sound that erupted from the group when you entered the bar was almost deafening, and making others look your way. You were then showered with hugs, first by the girls and followed by Seungcheol, Vernon, and Joshua. Jeonghan had disappeared to the bar, leaving you to greet everyone.

“It’s been way to long,” Eunji couldn’t stop saying, hugging you for what felt like the nth time, “I thought you weren’t ever coming back.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… needed to be away.” You answered, when she finally let go of you for good, but that was because her fiancé, Vernon, had pulled her back to his side.

“No need to explain to us. We understand.” It was Vernon who spoke up, a finger wrapped through a hoop of Eunji’s pants, keeping her in place. “What matters is that you’re back.”

“And me missing you all matters too, ya know?” You pointed out with a teasing smile, when a cold glass of beer was pushed into your hands, making you look up to see Jeonghan had rejoined the group. He didn’t look at you, instead moving to Seungcheol and Joshua, leaving the others to surround you. Looking down at the beer, you hoped that your friends didn’t pick up the tension between you. Which by the silence and looks everyone was giving each other, you knew better.

You could see the way Eunji was about to open her mouth, only for her fiancé’s hand conveniently found its place over it. Minnie, who had been waiting for her moment to give you a proper hug, gave you a questioning gaze, while Seungcheol, Joshua, and Joshua’s wife looked at Jeonghan.

“I see one thing hasn’t changed,” Minnie had murmured into your ear, taking the beer so she could get an actual hug from you, “We are going to be talking about this.”

As the night went on, the tension between you and Jeonghan had loosened with him eventually finding his way back to your side. Arm thrown over your shoulder, like he hadn’t been giving you the cold shoulder since running from him and the kiss you shared, as he talked and laughed with everyone. Poking, teasing, and smiling at you like you hadn’t just rejected him in one of the worst ways possible.

It had helped you relax outwardly, joining in with the talking, teasing, even leaning into him and his touch. It was easy to do, even with the tension burning between you, it was easy to lean into his warmth like he would you. Except inwardly, you had a war raging on. One that involved the very man you were leaning into.

“I’m going for a cigarette.” Minnie announced, lifting Seungcheol’s hand off her knee to stand, grabbing her designer bag in the process, “Who’s coming with me?”

“I will,” Eunji practically jumped out of her seat, looking around the table for anyone else, both of them stopping briefly on you and Lily, Joshua’s wife. Subtly hinting that you were to join them.

“I have to pass. I been trying to quit, and don’t want to be tempted, sorry.” Lily answered, sipping at the bright blue cocktail she had ordered.

“Never apologize for that. You got more will power than I do,” Minnie waved her hand, her eyes going back to you, “Anyone else?”

“I’ll go,” You announce, standing with Jeonghan’s arm falling from your shoulder as you did. Making him look at you with a confused expression, “Just need a bit of fresh air. I’ll be back.”

You barely make it out of the bar before you were being cornered by the two women.

“Okay, spill.” Eunji demanded as Minnie pulled out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing two and a lighter from the box. One for each woman.

“What are you talking about?” You attempted to feign ignorance, but it was clear the two didn’t buy it. The three of you were very close growing up, they witnessed how you and Jeonghan were, and still knew you better than you realized.

“Either one of three things is going on here. You two either have nothing to talk about, and it’s awkward as shit…” Minnie responded, placing the cigarette to her lips and lit it.

“Which is impossible with you two,” Eunji chimed in, taking the lighter from Minnie to light her own. “No matter how many years have passed.”

“You got into a stupid fight over something like the color of his socks, or…” Minnie walked closer, holding the cigarette out enough so the smoke wasn’t hitting your face, taking in how you crossed your arms and looked away. Leaning in, it felt like the last one was more of a secret, “Something happened between the two of you…”

“And you were the one to freak out.” Eunji finished for her, “And now it’s awkward.”

“Why would it be me?”

“Because it’s always you.” Vernon’s voice popped up behind you, causing the three of you to jump. He casually walks past you to Eunji, taking his cigarette in the process to take a drag, “I had a feeling they were doing that weird best friend gang up thing.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You answer, feeling your cheeks starting to burn.

“They kissed,” Vernon took another long drag of the nicotine stick, causing your jaw to drop opened, “Jeonghan told us in there.”

“Of course he did,” You muttered, watching the way Eunji and Minnie were ready to start jumping for joy.

“Finally?!” Eunji asked with excitement, but from the look on Vernon’s face, as well as yours, that Jeonghan didn’t stop there. Flicking the ash off the cigarette, the younger man took one more drag before handing it back to his fiancé.

“And that you freaked out and ran.”

“I didn’t run, I didn’t even leave the house.” You tried to defend yourself while your two friends excitement started to deflate.

“No, but you locked yourself in your room.” It was times like this that Vernon made you wonder how easy it was to get away with murder. Eunji will be able to find love again, she can move on, and you could disappear. Change your name, live in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere.

“Ugh,” Eunji let out a groan, dropping her head back and shoulders down in frustration. While Minnie could only stare at you, gaze unreadable as she pressed her cigarette to her lips, with one arm crossed her midsection.

“What?” You asked, your own frustration started to bubble over as it slowly started to occur to you that your friends knew something that you didn’t know. Something that Jeonghan clearly was aware of, but not you. Something about you and him. “I kissed him, yes. We were wrestling and it just happened, but it shouldn’t have. It just made things awkward and could just ruin our friendship.” You didn’t mention how much you wanted to do it again but couldn’t risk losing him for good. “What is with this ‘finally’ shit, anyways? Like shouldn’t you guys be worried that this could ruin our already fragile friendship.”

There was a silence as the three looked at each other. Like it dawned on them that you really didn’t know.

“You really don’t know?” It was Minnie who asked, taking another long drag as she moved her gaze to you again, followed by the couple behind her.

“Know what Min?” You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides, but there was something deep in you that told you that you already knew. Something that was sitting inside you for years, and you refused to acknowledge it, because it was easier than to face it.

There was a beat of silence between the four of them, with Eunji focused on her cigarette, Minnie watching you with an almost pitied look, and Vernon pushing his tongue into his cheek. Each of them waiting for the other to either come out with it, or for it to finally dawn on you. For you to finally see it.

“That he’s in love with you…” It was Vernon who said it, since neither of the girls spoke up, then his attention went to Minnie, “You think I can get my own smoke?”

You stood there in absolute silence while a pack of cigarettes exchanged hands, staring at your friends. It wasn’t that you had needed to process this, it wasn’t that at all. Instead, the words reached into your chest, into your heart and pulled out something you already known. Something he was trying to tell you, that he’s been trying to tell you.

“You guys are insane,” You finally spoke, looking away from them, pulling your cardigan around you when a cool breeze hit. “Jeonghan loves me, but he’s not in love with me.”

“Are you saying that to convince us, or convince yourself?” Minnie then asked, taking the pack back, her voice soft and understanding. You didn’t answer, still not looking at her, Vernon or Eunji, not trusting yourself to. “Did Jeonghan tell you what his parents condition was when they helped him buy that house?”

“No…” You had asked Jeonghan at least twice what this condition was, but he wouldn’t answer and would change the subject. Instead of pushing though, you just let him change it, so you didn’t have to actually hear it.

“The condition was that he settle downs like the rest of us,” She continued, and you could feel your mouth go dry, make your stomach churn uncomfortably. Unsure if it was from the alcohol, hearing all this, or both, “Or he would have to pay them back every penny.”

This made you look up to see her smiling at you, with it being as soft as her voice. Minnie flicked the ash off the near finished cigarette, your friends letting you take in what you were being told.

“What does that have to do with me, though?” You asked, feeling like you already knew the answer without it having to be said.

“Because.” Dropping the cigarette onto the ground, the taller woman hooked your arm with hers to walk back to the bar. Leaving Vernon and Eunji to finish their own smokes, “For him, the condition wasn’t just anyone, because to him, it only would be you.”

You’d barely made it back into the bar before Jeonghan had let out an overexaggerated yawn as he announced that he was going to order a ride home. This earned a chorus of groans from everyone, except for you. Your brain was already a buzz from the conversations outside, with the only thing you could do was stare at him. The bill of his hat pulled low, with it and his hair falling over his eyes. There was a deep frown playing over his lips, and body language reading that he no longer wanted to be there.

“You staying?” He asked you, making you blink out of your thoughts, already having his phone out to get a ride ordered. Several pairs of eyes turn to you, waiting for your response. Minnie had found her place back next to Seungcheol, leaning into her boyfriend, watching you with a knowing gaze.

Telling you to go with him.

“Nah, I’m getting tired myself.” You answered, letting out a chuckle, “I honestly am surprised I managed as long as I have. I’ve traded a night out at the bar with a bottle of wine at home, and most times in bed.”

Jeonghan nodded, already having the ride ordered, and the group advanced on you. Hugging you tightly, telling you to keep in touch, and to visit more often. With Minnie hugging you a little longer than everyone.

“Call me tomorrow, okay?” She whispered in your ear, “If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

Neither of you said anything on the ride back to Jeonghan’s, but this time the silence felt different. It wasn’t tense like it was on the way to the bar, it had shifted after being out for a few hours to something that you had a hard time describing. His tired silence, leaning back in the seat with his eyes out the window, watching everything pass by. One hand resting against his head while the other rested between you both.

Beckoning you to take it.

Except you didn’t, with your own gaze looking out the car window as well. Vernon and Minnie’s words heavy in your head.

“He’s in love with you.”

“…because to him, it only would be you.”

“If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

They left you with one of two choices by doing this. Finally face what was always between you and talk to Jeonghan, or you run away again. Get the earliest flight you can and leave before Jeonghan could wake up. Continue to run away. Destroy a lifelong friendship, one that you were meant to reconnect during your stay, because you were the coward.

You needed to make a choice. You needed to make one then.

“I’m going to head to bed, I am pretty tired,” Jeonghan announced once back, making sure the door was locked behind you before flicking his gaze to you. Taking you in, while he forced a smile to his lips and another beat of silence followed.

He was waiting for you to say something, anything. It was your chance, you either faced it or you ran away, but words failed you. They failed you in a way that never happened before with him, and it scared you.

“Goodnight, bug.” He whispered finally turning toward his room, nodding his head like he received his answer again. An answer to a question or a confession that he never said out loud.

It suddenly infuriated you.

“Are you in love with me?” You blurted out, causing Jeonghan to stop only a few steps away, watching the way his back straightened at the question. The accusation.

“Yes, I am.” He answered without hesitation, turning to look at you. That forced smile turning into a sardonic smirk when your eyes widened at how easy it was for him to say it, “I am in love with you.”

“For how long?”

“Does it matter?” The question as simple.

“Yes…no…just tell me.” You let out a frustrated sigh, shoulders dropping as you do.

“I’ve loved you since we were children, even when you would pull my hair,” He let out a chuckle, crossing his arms, “But realized I was in love with you when I had to watch you board that plane for school.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was easier to watch you go not knowing than if you did.” Jeonghan’s voice was low, the words stripping everything away that he hid behind, letting you see the raw side of him. And he still held eye contact with you.

“And the condition with your parents…”

“I had no intention fulfilling it if it wasn’t going to be you.” You noticed that he had started to close the distance that as originally there, pulling off his cap in the process so you could see his face better. Looking at you in a way he never had before, or that you noticed.

“Why?”

“Because no matter how I pictured my future, when it came to who I would spend my life with…” Jeonghan was now in front of you, close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. His hand ghosting over your cheek. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to move, you were scared to move, “It’s always you. It’s always been you.”

“Jeonghan…” His name came out in a whisper, tears starting to fall down your cheek and that was when you felt the coolness of his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb wiping away a few away. “You’re an asshole.”

A soft laugh left him, dropping his hand and taking a step back. Taking your comment as a rejection, but it wasn’t. It was far from it. You finally found a name to what that missing piece was when it came to Jeonghan. Your best friend, the boy who would be waiting for you in that run down shed every day, the teen who would get in trouble with you, the young man who let you go even though there was an ache in both your chests, and the man standing before you.

All these versions of him were one thing to you. Your Jeonghan.

“You’re an asshole for not telling me sooner…” You pouted, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt to stop him, refusing to look away from him. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan countered back, inching closer to you, his eyes flicking to your mouth.

“Yeah.”

He then kissed you, heated and hungry, like something inside him snapped; unable to hold back any longer. He had a taste of you earlier, and now that he had you again, he couldn’t keep pretending. You returned the kiss with a fever, gripping at the sleeves of his shirt because if you didn’t, he’d disappear.

His hand finding their place at your hips, squeezing them when you deepened the kiss, greedy to taste him again like you had earlier. This time with the notes of beer still lingering, but you were sure you were just the same. Releasing the sleeves of his shirt, you traced them over your shoulders and up his neck, earning a low groan from him when you gripped at the soft strands of his hair.

Hearing this sound sent a wave of heat down your belly, right to your core, your thighs squeezing slightly and enough for Jeonghan to notice. Making him pull away from your lips, reluctantly since he attempted to dive back in to reclaim them, only to stop himself.

“You’ll need to stop me now, because I have no intentions on it.” He said softly, willing to step away if you didn’t want to. You laugh pushing him toward his bedroom, tripping over each other and pulling off clothes in the process. With your bra and top gone before you made it through his bedroom door.

His shirt following quickly after, giving way to a lean frame with smooth undefined muscles, but you could feel them under your touch. Your cargos off next, leaving you in a pair of grey lace underwear, and Jeonghan had twisted you so the he was the one guiding you to his bed. His mouth claiming yours right as you felt his bed hit the back of your knees, making you drop down onto it.

Looking up to see Jeonghan standing before you, his eyes roaming from your own down your body before returning to them. His expression one of disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were on his bed, half naked. And just for him.

“Hanni…” Anything you had to say was stopped by his kiss, more heated than any of the others you had shared.

Your hands and mouths touching and kissing anywhere and everywhere you could. His mouth teasing your breasts, sucking at the hardened peaks, while your hands ran over his body. Feeling his hardened cock over his pants before they too were gone. Followed by his boxers, and then your underwear.

“Fuck…your mouth is heaven,” He moaned out when you took his cock into your mouth, swallowing him down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him. With a few expert movements, Jeonghan had to pull back to stop from cumming down your throat and ending it all too soon. “We are going to have to revisit this later.”

“But…” Your words were swallowed up by his kiss, tongue claiming yours, pushing your back against the bed, his hips pushing your legs apart. Moaning at the feeling of his saliva slicked cock pressing against your own soaked cunt, rolling your hips up against his. Needing more of him.

When you felt two fingers tweak at one of your nipples, you roll him onto his back, straddling him. Grinding down onto him while one of your hands slip between you to grip his cock. With a gentle squeeze, Jeonghan broke from the kiss to drop his head back with a groan, moving both hands to your hips. The head of his cock catching at your entrance, making you both gasp.

Then you sank down onto him, a silent cry leaving you while Jeonghan’s eyes rolled at the way he stretched your gripping walls, until you were completely onto him. Only you didn’t stay there long, not giving either of you the chance to adjust before you were moving. Planting your hands onto the bed, you lift your hips off him, leaving only the head of his cock in you before dropping down.

Jeonghan’s hands gripped onto your hips, his eyes glazed over from arousal and the sight of you. Seeing parts of you that he only imagined, your bare breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips, your mouth falling open in pleasure, right down to where your two were now connected. The feeling of your walls squeezing and gripping at him was better than any late night thoughts could compare.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he also didn’t want this to ever end. There was no way he could ever go back after this, he wouldn’t be able to go back to anything with you that didn’t involve this. Didn’t involve you being his.

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, grinding down onto him to get more friction, feeling yourself winding tighter. The knot deep in your core threatening to snap. Then one of his hands slide from your hip to between your legs, pushing his finger up to tease your clit. “I’m close…”

“Do it, baby. Don’t hold back.” He tried to play it cool with a smirk, but he was just as much of a whimpering mess like you are. Looking up at you like you were the only thing that ever mattered. You were the only thing that ever mattered to him.

“Shit, Shit…” You chanted, every muscle tightening as you came, “I love you, I love you.”

Then you were on your back, Jeonghan rolling you over without pulling out, taking over for you. Fucking into you with a vigor you never experienced from him.

“I love you…” He whispered into your mouth, cupping your face, his own release following quickly after. Neither of you moved, staying connected as you came down from your highs, with him now pulling back to look at you. Your well kissed lips, your hair a mess from running your fingers through it, and your still glazed over eyes. A scene that made him fall even more in love. “Please don’t leave… stay… I can’t let you go again.”

“Jeonghan…” You sigh, closing your eyes as you attempted to slip off him. Oversensitivity starting to take over, but he kept you there on top of him. “I have to though…” That was when you felt his hands loosen on your hips, and the look on his face nearly broke you, but still a small smile graced your lips, “I mean… If I plan to move back, I got to get everything in order…”

“No you don’t,” He pouted, and you leaned forward to kiss him. Soft, promising. “You can just start back over here… I am not letting you go.”

“Then I guess we need to buy you a plane ticket then.” You tease, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face that you’ve loved for years. “Cause I do have to go back.”

“We’ll see about that,” He smirked, making you laugh. “I love you. Always you.”

Thank you so much for reading I seriously hope you all enjoyed this!

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to know I am doing well!

Please be sure to check out all the other wonderful fics from this collab and show everyone love! We all worked hard on this!

[nothoughtsjustfic]

Session Two: Secret's Out - L.JH

🎙Who: Lee Jihoon (Seventeen) x female reader 🎙What: Smut (18+). Friends with benefits. Producer/Idol Jihoon. Canon idol-verse. 🎙Word count: 3.8k 🎙Warnings: Kissing. Profanity. High heel kink. Dick stepping (light). Marks (bruises/hickies). Slight pain kink. Manhandling. Fingering. PIV sex. Protected sex. Dirty talk. 🎙Summary:

Everyone knows that Jihoon does not like high heels. Everyone assumes it's because he's insecure about his height. Everyone happens to be very fucking wrong.

Minors do NOT interact. I WILL block any account that interacts without an age indicator in their bio.

Masterlist 🎙In The Studio Masterlist

A/N- This was originally on my old account @/whipped-for-kpop-fics, but I’ve decided to private a lot of stuff on that account and just move it over to here after some editing, where I can actually track it all properly.

Jihoon doesn't like it when you wear high heels.

You've always assumed it's because of the added height, and he's never really given you, or anyone else, reason to think otherwise. When the guys have teased him about it in the past, Jihoon had never corrected them and just made vague sounds in response, if he even responded, because he often ignored the jabs.

So, it makes logical sense that his aversion to you in high heels is because he's sensitive about his height, and heels always make you much taller than him. Being a good friend, you take that at face value and refrain from wearing any heels around him, not wanting to make your precious friend feel insecure in any way.

The plan on this day isn't to make him insecure either; you'd genuinely never want that. But you know that even though you two have plans, he'll still be working for quite some time once you arrive at his studio, because he always fucking does that. Which means he'll be busy, and you'll both be seated in different places, so taking the chance to break in the heels you just bought won't cause any problems, right?

“What are you doing?” Jihoon asks as soon as you sit on the couch in his studio and open the shoe box, revealing the brand new, sleek, black stilettos inside. He isn't even back in his chair from letting you into the studio yet, just standing and staring at you a little dumbly, eyebrows furrowed. “You know I don't like you wearing heels.”

“I've got to break them in, and it's not like I've got anything else to do while you spend the next hour telling me you'll be done in a minute,” you point out. “And we're both going to be sitting down the whole time, you won't even notice the height.”

“The height doesn't bother me,” he informs, making you look up at him questioningly.

“It doesn't?”

Jihoon scoffs and crosses his arms over his chest. “No. I've told you assholes; I'm not insecure about my height.”

“Then why are you against heels?” You raise an eyebrow in intrigue, trying to figure it out yourself. But Jihoon gives you no assistance in any way and simply sits down and turns back to his desk with clearly zero intention of answering.

You stare at the back of his head for a second, then give in trying to magically understand, and instead go back to taking your brand-new shoes out of the box and slipping them onto your feet. Of course, you already tried them on in the store, so you know you like them quite a lot; they're simple but elegant, with a little dainty silver chain around your ankle.

“Will you take a picture for me?” you ask as you take your phone from your pocket and extend your legs out, already pretty sure he will refuse.

As expected, Jihoon's response is a simple and firm, “No.”

“Fine.”

You try to get a good picture of your new shoes to send to your friend, but the angles are quite frankly put, shit. So, you get up and move aside, to prop your phone up on the floor on selfie mode and set a timer. You quickly shuffle back just enough to get a decent view of the lower half of your legs.

You don't notice, because you're busy trying to take a photo that really shows off the shoes, but Jihoon looks over the second he hears you move. Though he's not really paying attention to you but your feet. He keeps trying to look away and finish his work, but he's too distracted.

You're driving him insane and you don't even notice.

“Okay, I can't decide which one is better,” your sudden voice jolts Jihoon back to reality, and he looks up at you to see that you're now just standing there with your phone in your hands, flicking between two photos. “Will you pick for me?” He doesn't have the chance to respond before you turn and approach him. Jihoon's gaze drops back to your shoes, and he swallows hard.

That you notice.

“Ji?” you wonder, stopping at his side and offering your phone. He makes a vague grunt of a sound in response. “Will you pick for me?”

It takes a few seconds for Jihoon to force his eyes to focus on the little screen held out to him. He just stares as you flick between the two photos slow enough that he can get a good view of them both and compare them mentally. At least that's what you hope he's doing. Really, he's just dumbly staring with slightly widened eyes, no thoughts in his head.

“Which one?” you prompt when he remains silent for too long.

“Ei-” he starts but his voice cracks, so he quickly clears his throat. “Either.”

“Either?”

“Either.”

“Right,” you mutter while looking at him suspiciously and locking your phone blindly while lowering it. Jihoon lets out a relieved little exhale. “What's going on with you?”

His head darts up to look at you. He looks very caught out; eyes big and cheeks tinted a soft pink. “What? Me? Nothing.” He tries to turn back to his computer, but you grab the back of his chair and pull it away from the desk. Jihoon yelps and tries to catch the edge of the desk, though he doesn't react fast enough, giving you space to nudge him further back and move over to stand right in the way of his computer. “I need to-”

“What's going on?” you demand, crossing your arms over your chest.

It feels oddly reminiscent of the very first time your relationship turned from platonic to sexual those months back. You've had a lot of sexual encounters since watching him jerk off in that very chair, but you can never forget that first one.

Your eyes drop down to his crotch inquisitively. You're pretty sure he'd be honest if you had disturbed him when he was in the middle of masturbating, in fact, he's told you as much multiple times before and it always ended with you both getting off in some way together. And there's no bulge in his sweatpants, so clearly, that's not the issue here anyway.

“Nothing, let me-” He tries to scoot forward with one hand reaching forward to urge you aside, but you lift your foot to put it on the edge of the chair between his thighs to stop it moving. Jihoon immediately freezes, eyes blown wide and glued to your foot a handful of inches away from his crotch. “Fuck,” he whispers, slowly leaning back in his seat until his back is pressed against the backrest while his hands grip the armrests.

You stare at him consideringly for a moment, trying to decipher what the fuck is going on here, and the whole time, Jihoon's wide eyes remain on your heeled foot. You adjust it a little as you lean back against the desk for balance. You don't intentionally move your foot closer to his crotch, the flat of your shoe more firmly pressed to the seat between his thighs, yet it happens and Jihoon swallows thickly. It's now that you notice the subtle change in his sweatpants; a sign that Lee Jihoon is getting hard. And suddenly, it all makes an awful lot of sense.

Why Jihoon doesn't like it when you wear high heels.

Why he's been looking at your feet darkly in what you had initially assumed was hatred.

Why he can't seem to remove his gaze from your heeled foot now that it's so close to his hardening dick.

Lee Jihoon has a high heel kink.

An amused smirk tilts your lips up as you unfold your arms and rest your palms on the desk either side of your ass. “Oh, I see what this is,” you muse, tone a little teasing.

You know from experience that Jihoon can handle a little teasing where his kinks are concerned, he does the same to you too. But you both never push too far, still walk carefully along that edge ready to pull back in a second if you notice the other getting uncomfortable.

Without hesitation, you lift your foot and lightly press it against that rapidly swelling bulge. Jihoon's head immediately tips back and he lets out a broken little moan.

“You've got a high heel kink, don't you, babyboy?” you coo while applying a little more pressure, and grinning in satisfaction at the moan it pulls from Jihoon's chest. He doesn't even try to respond, just grips the armrests harder and subtly rolls his hips up to press his cock harder against the underside of your shoe. “Cute.”

Jihoon always looks so fucking beautiful like this; when he's focused on his pleasure and moving his hips to search for it without a care in the world, no shame in his veins just pure arousal. You truly do wish you could have him like this always; keep him to yourself selfishly and allow no one else the pleasure of this sight. But you can't, you both may only be seeing each other sexually, but you also have agreed that it doesn't have to remain that way at all.

Still, it doesn't stop you from wishing this moment could last.

Unfortunately, your legs have other thoughts, and the position soon grows uncomfortable and unsteady for you. Jihoon's head jolts up when you remove your foot. His eyes are so heavy-lidded when they land on you, and full of betrayal at you removing the source of his pleasure.

“Just give me a second.” You giggle amusedly and slide yourself up onto the desk after moving aside his keyboard to give yourself space. “Come here,” you encourage, motioning him closer with a curl of your finger.

Jihoon immediately rolls over in his chair between your spread thighs and grabs your right leg himself to lift back up and put your foot back against his aching erection. He doesn't even say anything, just holds your ankle in his left hand, and uses his right to press down on the top of your foot and keep the pressure how he wants it, while he essentially humps your sole. It's both entertaining and pretty arousing. Seeing Jihoon be so utterly shameless always does something to you; always makes you throb with need for him.

You can't help but wonder how far this kink of his goes; if he just wants to rub against the flat of your shoe, or whether the heel itself plays a part. Though you can't imagine it would do much but hurt in a non-pleasurable kind of way if he rutted against the thin stiletto heel. Still, he has a high heel kink, not a regular shoe kink, so the heel has to be important, right?

Curiously, you lift your left foot and place it flat on his right thigh. Jihoon's closed eyes snap open and look at your left foot, his hips slowing down a little now that you have pulled his attention elsewhere.

You're very aware of the fact that Jihoon does like some pain during sex; you're not sure of the extent, but you're confident enough to not worry here, knowing that he can handle it.

You adjust your footing a little then tilt your foot back, digging the thin heel into his thick thigh. Instantly, Jihoon moans, thick and needy, as his head tilts back and he goes back to rutting up desperately against your shoe.

“Oh, baby.” You hum appreciatively. “Gonna make yourself cum like this, hm?”

“C-can't,” it's the first thing he's said in a little while; the first attempt he's even made to utter a single syllable. His voice is deep in the way it gets when he's so full of arousal that he can't think straight. It's truly one of your favourite sounds and always sends a shiver down your spine.

“Can't?” you repeat, adjusting your left foot so it's higher up and angled, so that when you press your heel back down against him, it's on his inner thigh. His back arches as he gasps and moans, much higher in pitch than his speaking voice in a contradiction that would make you giggle if you weren't too focused on the arousal simmering in your stomach.

“Can't,” he confirms, then grips both of your ankles hard to still your feet and give him enough mental clarity to open his eyes and land his dangerously dark gaze on you. You're pretty sure you know what this means, and feel yourself clench on nothing in anticipation.

Jihoon's jaw flexes a little as he clenches it, and then he's up, kicking his chair away carelessly to grip your thighs and pull you right to the edge of the desk while his lips crash onto yours with burning desperation, tongue quickly darting into your mouth to find your own.

“Need you,” he informs breathlessly when he pulls back; far too quickly for your liking, but his hands are working on the fastening of your jeans so you really don't have it in you to complain. Jihoon is about to fuck you and based on how he's acting, and the pure need in his eyes, he's going to fuck you so good.

“You need to move so I can take these off,” you remind, nudging at his firm stomach to try and get him to back up, but Jihoon refuses. “Ji-”

“No,” he answers, moving just enough to pull open the top drawer of his desk on his right and grab a condom; one of many he keeps in the drawer so that he can fuck you whenever the mood strikes you both. Admittedly, it's a lot.

“What? How else-” You yelp when he wraps an arm around your waist to lift you enough that he can roughly try to tug your jeans and underwear down.

He only manhandles you when he's turned on so much that he can't even think rationally and the only thought on his mind is burying his cock as deep into you as humanly possible. And knowing that, being manhandled by Jihoon only turns you on more than the show of strength itself.

You brace yourself with one hand and help him with the other quickly.

Together, you work the clothing down to your mid-thigh, and then Jihoon puts you down and forces his hand into the gap between your thighs and the clothes.

“Ji,” you gasp as he plunges two fingers right into you. The jeans around your thighs make it hard to spread your legs, so you're kind of tight like this, but Jihoon knows you, knows you can take it, especially when you're wet like this. Plus, he already fucked you this morning in your bed, so he is certain you can handle this rough behaviour right now.

“Get me ready,” he grunts, tracing his lips over your jaw and bullying a third finger into you to curl and stretch them. He can't really thrust them at this angle, he's got very limited space, but he does what he can to make you gasp and get wetter by the second.

You reach aside blindly until you find the condom on the desk to grab before your hands find his waistband and yank open the tie to loosen them. You don't even push down his sweats that far, you both can't reach and don't fucking care, just want to get his cock out and in you. Quickly, you shove down his boxers a little and pull his erection out so that as soon as you've got the condom out of the wrapper, you can roll it onto him.

“Hands on the desk,” he orders, pulling his fingers from you to grab your thighs and push them up, making your body naturally lean backwards. You plant your palms on the desk behind you for support and watch as he lifts your legs to his shoulders, resting your calves there before reaching down to grab his erection and line up with you.

Jihoon only glances up at you to check in quickly and noticing that you're more than okay with all of this, he wastes no time burying his hard cock in you right to the hilt. It's another thing he doesn't do unless he's insanely turned on and desperate to cum; go fast from the get-go. He'll usually ease into you to allow you both to savour the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls. But when he's like this, he doesn't have the patience for that; he just wants to cum with your pussy hugging him tight.

You both moan at the feeling of getting what you both so desperately want.

Jihoon takes a second, then another, squeezing your thighs appreciatively like he always does when he's buried in you, and then he pulls back and starts to fuck into you in short, powerful thrusts aimed right at your most sensitive spots. Your head drops back as you moan with every thrust, little ‘ah-ah-ah’s that give him all the information he needs to know that he's fucking you right.

As much as Jihoon is desperate to cum, he will never pick his pleasure over your own. Without fail, he'll always make sure you orgasm before him, even like this. Though he doesn't have the patience for multiple when he's in this state, like he usually gives you before allowing himself to fall over the edge with you.

Today is no different; Jihoon wants you to cum first and soon, he can feel himself hurtling towards his end. You're so fucking tight like this, and he can see those fucking heels in his peripheral, and feel the blooming bruises on this thigh from you digging them into his delicate skin.

So he slides one hand down from your thigh to force its way between them and thumb at your clit harshly; it's messy and not very coordinated for a usually very coordinated man, but there's not much else he can do like this. There's not much else he needs to do. He feels you tightening up around him and groans, hand on your thigh squeezing encouragingly, and hips keeping the exact same pace and angle to not risk ruining your impending orgasm.

“Ji,” you warn, voice getting higher.

“I-I know,” he replies and squeezes again. “Cum for me baby.”

It's a few more rough presses of his thumb against your clit and then you're tensing up a split second before your back bows and you let out strings of moans and curses mixed with variations of his name in a combination that is pure music to his ears.

There's a fraction of a moment here where he regrets not pressing record on the room mic so that he can listen back on this session like he has many of them before, but he doesn't have the brain power to consider it for long.

Jihoon knows you don't need him to keep playing with your clit or fucking the same way to ride through your orgasm, so he moves both hands to press against the back of your thighs, folding you up. He hadn't intended for your heels to wind up pressed to his chest, it's just a real fucking happy accident that causes him to rapidly piston his hips, fucking his cock into you with nothing but the intention to cum.

You whine at the fast stimulation. It's teetering on the brink of making you too sensitive as the dregs of your orgasm trickle through your system, while also feeling so fucking good that you never want him to stop. It feels good, perhaps too good even, but you just take it, eyes rolled back, and head lolled back on your shoulders.

After a moment or two, you have enough presence of mind to lift your head and look at Jihoon. His eyes are closed tight, eyebrows furrowed with utter desperate concentration as he chases his high, and sweat dappling his forehead.

Without thought, you press both heels into his chest, and just like that, Jihoon's hips slap harshly against you a few times as his orgasm racks through his body while he chokes out gasping moans and digs his fingers into your thighs tightly. You don't bruise quite as easily as him, but you're pretty sure he's going to create at least a few faint ones with how hard he's holding you. Not that you mind.

Slowly, Jihoon falls still, and then loosens his hold, though he doesn't open his eyes yet as he pants and tries to suck in some air.

You know he's feeling much more like himself again when his hands slide up to lift your legs by the back of your ankles so that he can press a soft, grateful kiss to the exposed skin on the top of each foot. He carefully pulls out of you, with one hand holding the condom in place, and the other supporting your ankles in his other hand. He gently helps you lower your legs down before he moves aside to dispose of the condom and grab the wipes from the drawer.

“So,” you start, when he's back in front of you and doing his best to wipe at your sticky thighs. He looks at you and notices your grin. “High heel kink, huh?”

“Shut up.” He scoffs, though there's a twitch to his lips giving away his little smile when he turns to clean himself up too, then throws out the dirtied wipes.

“What?” You giggle and slide off of the desk carefully to pull your underwear and jeans back up and fasten them into place. “It's cute.”

“Seriously babe, shut up.”

“No.” You giggle and toddle over to throw your arms around him from behind.

He sighs and finishes tying up his sweatpants back in place before turning to face you, naturally putting his hands on your waist. “Hm, maybe you can wear heels around me more,” he muses upon realising that your modest cleavage is right in his face. He leans in and doesn't hesitate to suction onto the skin that he can access like this.

“Shall we go now?” you suggest while running your fingers through his hair. He hums against your skin, then smooths a hand down to your ass to slap it quickly. “Asshole.”

“Mm,” he agrees and steps back to eye the growing bruise, then lowers his gaze to your feet. “You need to change those though; I can't be seen with my dick hard in public.”

“Spoilsport.”

“I'm a fucking idol, I can't risk that shit,” he scoffs, then moves to save his work and turn off everything while you remove the high heels and pack them neatly back into the box they came in.

“Yeah, whatever, they're off. Now let's go get takeout and fuck in the backseat.”

“Sounds good to me, baby.”

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

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[azaablue]

the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be a part of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.

[quinnhypen]

im scared i'll never sleep again - (c.hs)

Pairing: Vernon x f. Reader :D

You and Vernon have been inseparable since middle school, growing up side by side until the moment everything changes when you leave for college in New York. He stays home, pretending he’s fine with the distance, but the night before you leave, a simple sleepover turns into an emotional argument neither of you were prepared for. Vernon, unable to understand why he’s so affected by your departure, lashes out and says hurtful things about your choice to leave—words rooted in fear rather than truth. After you leave, silence takes over, and Vernon is left behind, quietly falling apart as he spends every day yearning for you, hoping for any sign that you might still come back into his life. And worst of all, he never wanted you to leave, and that was killing him.

Genre: angst,oblivious to love, oblivious to feelings, non-idol au, yearning vernon, like vernon yearning harder than anyone has yearned before Word Count: 16.3k Warnings/Things to make note of!: angst, a lot of angst, like the whole story is angst pretty much up until the end, verbal fighting, no smut!, heavy making out, mention of getting undressed, happy ending, yearning, crazy yearning, sad yearning. I ALSO DID NOT PROOF READ THIS WHOOPS! A/N: hi! Its been a bit! End of semester got busy and crazy so i didn’t have much time to write!! My roommate and I love 5 seconds of summer and she had this idea for a vernon fic based on the 5sos song, im scared ill never sleep again which I immediately was like omg YES LETS DO IT. so we brainstormed the plot together and i got writing!!! I hope you all love it cutie little yearning vernon chwe hansol ugh cutie pie. Enjoy the story!!!

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If anyone asked how you and Vernon became friends, neither of you could ever remember the exact details. 

The official story was that a seventh-grade science teacher had assigned a group project about ecosystems and stuck the two of you together. Vernon had forgotten half the materials, you'd had forgotten the poster board, and somehow the disaster had ended with both of you laughing so hard you got yelled at for disrupting class.

After that, you were just... there.

Lunch periods. Bus rides. Weekend hangouts. Study sessions that turned into movie marathons. 

Vernon loves movies.

Every milestone from awkward middle school years to surviving high school had happened with Vernon standing somewhere nearby.

The friendship became so permanent that nobody questioned it anymore.

Well, almost nobody.

People who didn't know either of you would occasionally glance between the two of you and ask, "Wait, are they dating?" And every single time, someone who knew you both would laugh.

"No." The answer came immediately. Automatically. "No, they're just Vernon and Y/n."

As if that explained everything.

Because it did. Everyone knew you and Vernon would never catch feelings.

Not because there wasn't trust or affection between you. If anything, there was too much of it. You knew how he took his coffee, knew which songs he skipped every time they came on shuffle in the car, knew exactly what expression meant he was trying not to laugh, and knew exactly what jokes would make him laugh his little squeaky noises that makes you laugh even harder.

Vernon knew all your secrets, all your bad habits, all the things you never told anyone else.

You were best friends. The kind of best friends people pointed to when they talked about platonic soulmates. The kind of friendship that seemed untouchable.

Unchangeable.

Then graduation came.

Neither of you cried during the ceremony, but your family definitely did enough for everyone.

Afterward, life suddenly felt too big.

College acceptance letters turned into orientation dates. Texts filled with discussions about dorm assignments and class schedules. Everyone around you seemed to be preparing for some huge new chapter.

At first, neither of you thought much about it.

Of course you would both go to college. Of course you would still be best friends.

That part was obvious.

The less obvious part came when decision day rolled around.

You chose New York. The second you got accepted, you knew.

The city felt loud and exciting and terrifying in all the right ways. It was everything you'd spent years dreaming about whenever you felt trapped in your small hometown. New opportunities. New people. New experiences.

A fresh start.

Vernon chose differently.

While everyone around him stressed over moving across the country, he picked a school in-state less than an hour from home. Close enough to visit home whenever he wanted. Close enough that his parents wouldn't have to help him move his entire life into a dorm room. Close enough that everything familiar would still be there if he needed it.

Neither choice surprised the other.

You had always wanted more, Vernon had always liked what he already had.

Still, for the first time in years, your lives weren't moving in the exact same direction.

You tried not to think about it.

So did he.

Instead, you spent the entire summer together.

Some days were spent driving around town with no destination. Some days were spent lying on your bedroom floor talking about absolutely nothing. Most nights ended with one of you sleeping over at the other's house.

The friendship was so old that neither of your families thought twice about it anymore.

If Vernon stayed over, he took his usual side of the bed.

If you stayed at his house, you took yours.

No awkwardness. No weird tension. No wondering where to put your arms.

Just comfort. Just familiarity.

The two of you had practically grown up side by side.

A shared bed never meant anything more than being too lazy to drag out an air mattress.

The summer before college became a collection of routines.

One of your favorites happened almost every evening.

Music had always been your thing.

You'd spend hours sitting cross-legged on your bed with a guitar in your lap, replaying the same section of a song over and over until your fingers got it right.

Vernon would usually be nearby.

Sometimes stretched out on the floor, sometimes sitting against your headboard, sometimes scrolling through his phone while pretending not to pay attention.

But he always listened.

Every wrong note, every lyric, every song you became obsessed with for two weeks before moving on to another one.

Occasionally he'd join in.

He'd just start singing a line under his breath from wherever he was sitting, making you grin before you inevitably messed up whatever chord you were playing.

And then he'd laugh.

That quiet laugh that always turned into those ridiculous squeaky little noises whenever something genuinely got him.

It was easy, everything with Vernon was easy.

Until suddenly there were only three days left before you moved to New York.

Then two.

Then one.

The night before you left, your phone buzzed while you were sitting on your bedroom floor surrounded by half-packed boxes.

Vernon:Sleep over tonight?

You stared at the message.

You:Vernon, I literally leave for New York tomorrow morning.

The typing bubble appeared immediately.

Vernon:I know that.

Vernon:That's kind of why I'm asking.

You:Wow. Getting sentimental on me?

Vernon:Don't make this weird.

Vernon:So are you coming or not?

You looked around your room, brown boxes lining the walls.

Tomorrow, you'd wake up, get in a car, and leave behind the town you'd spent your entire life in.

Leave behind your family, Leave behind your friends.

Leave behind Vernon.

The thought settled heavily in your chest.

You:Yeah.

You:I'll be there in twenty.

His response came almost instantly.

Vernon:Cool.

The response was dry, more than usual.

You:You okay?

The typing bubble appeared.

Disappeared, appeared again.

Then:

Vernon:Why wouldn't I be?

You:You seem weird.

Vernon:

Text when ur here

You:Okay.

A read receipt appeared almost immediately.

Then nothing.

The conversation ended there.

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Vernon wasn't exactly the world's most expressive texter, but he was usually easier than this. Lighter. He always had some dumb comment to make or some random thought to share.

Lately, though, he'd been different.

You couldn't pinpoint exactly when it started, maybe a few weeks ago?

Maybe when college became real.

Maybe when moving day stopped being some distant date on a calendar and started becoming tomorrow.

He'd just been... off.

A little more irritable.

A little quieter, a little quicker to shut down conversations.

Sometimes you'd catch him staring off into space when you were talking and have to repeat yourself. Other times he'd get oddly annoyed over things that normally wouldn't bother him.

Nothing worth questioning.

You figured he was stressed. Besides, everyone was.

Your hands sat on the top of your steering wheel when everything set in.

Looking at your house.

Tomorrow night, you wouldn't be here. Tomorrow night, you'd be in a dorm room hundreds of miles away in New York. The realization hit harder than it had all summer.

You'd spent months talking about leaving. Planning for it. Getting excited about it.

But somehow none of it had felt real until now.

Until this drive. Your last drive to Vernon's house.

The route was so familiar you could have driven it blindfolded.

Past the gas station where he'd accidentally put diesel into his car during senior year and spent the next month insisting it wasn't his fault.

Past the park where the two of you used to waste entire afternoons doing absolutely nothing.

Past the convenience store where he'd buy the same snacks every single time despite claiming he wanted to try new things.

It wasn't like you'd never come back. It wasn't like Vernon was disappearing.

You'd text. Call. Visit during breaks.

Everything would be fine.

So why did it feel like something was ending? The thought lingered as you drove.

You parked in front of his house and grabbed your overnight bag from the passenger seat.

Then, after a brief hesitation, you pulled out your phone.

You:Here.

The read receipt appeared immediately. A few seconds later, the front door opened.

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You climbed out of the car and headed up the walkway, overnight bag slung over your shoulder. Vernon stood in the doorway waiting.

For a second, neither of you said anything, he just looked at you, then he offered a small smile.

"Hey."

"Hey."

Something tugged at your chest.

Maybe it was the porch light or maybe it was your imagination.

But he looked tired. Not physically tired, just somehow exhausted.

His eyes looked slightly puffy, like he'd been rubbing at them for a while. Like maybe he'd cried an hour ago and had mostly recovered from it.

Mostly.

Not enough that you felt comfortable asking about it, not enough that you were even sure you'd seen it correctly.

So you ignored it. The same way you'd ignored every other strange thing about him lately.

"You gonna let me in?" you asked.

He stepped aside immediately. “Right.”

The familiar smell of his house greeted you as soon as you walked inside. Everything looked exactly the same, which somehow made tomorrow feel even more impossible. You slipped off your shoes while Vernon closed the door behind you.

His parents were already asleep, the house quiet. Without speaking, he grabbed your overnight bag and started up the stairs.

By the time you stepped inside, the weird feeling from the car ride had settled heavily in your stomach.

Vernon's room looked exactly how it always did.

A little messy, movie posters on the walls, a pile of clothes occupying a chair in the corner. So comfortably familiar.

Usually you'd flop onto his bed immediately and start talking but tonight, you both just sort of... sat there.

You settled near the headboard.

Vernon sat beside you, not too close, not too far.

The silence stretched.. and stretched… and stretched. 

It was unbearable.

"So," you finally said.

"So." Vernon repeats, not making direct eye contact with you.

"Did you eat dinner?"

"Yeah."

"What'd you have?"

"Food."

You blinked. "Vernon."

"What?"

You turn your whole body to face him. "You're being weird."

The corner of his mouth twitched in a way you couldn’t really describe. The room fell quiet again. He was holding something back, why wasn’t he telling you?

His leg bounced restlessly, he played with the hem on the sleeve of his hoodie and suddenly, you couldn’t hold the question back anymore.

"Okay."

His eyes flickered toward you.

"Okay what?"

"What's going on?"

His expression immediately changed as he finally looked you in the eyes for the first time since he opened the front door. 

"What do you mean?"

"You know exactly what I mean."

He looked away.

"Nothing's going on."

You let out a short laugh. “See, that Vernon. You are being weird and distant and avoidant. Did I do something?”

A pause.

“Nevermind.” You cross your arms over your body beginning to grow annoyed. “You clearly don’t want to tell me.”

"I don't know how to explain it," he finally admitted.

The honesty in his voice immediately took some of the anger out of you.

“Then try, I have one night left Vernon.” A slight nip in the tone of your voice.

Vernon stared down at his hands for a moment, rubbing his thumb against the edge of his blanket. The room felt impossibly quiet.

"It's just..." He sighed. "I don't get it."

You frowned. "Don't get what?"

"The whole thing."

He let out a dry laugh and shook his head. "New York."

You blinked.

"What about New York?"

"What about it?" he shot back. "I don't understand why you want to go so far away."

Your confusion immediately deepened. "What?"

"I'm serious." He finally looked at you. "I don't get it."

You stared at him. "Vernon, we've talked about this for years."

"I know."

"Then why are you acting like this is new information?"

"Because it didn't feel real before." The words slipped out before he could stop them.

For a second, neither of you spoke. 

Vernon looked away first. "I don't know," he muttered. "I just don't get why that's what you want."

You sat up straighter.

"What do you mean that's what I want? It's New York."

"Exactly."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

He shrugged, but there was frustration behind it. "I just don't see the appeal."

You laughed in disbelief. "Okay, but you don't have to. This is my life Vernon"

"I know."

"So what are we even talking about right now?"

His jaw tightened.

"I'm talking about the fact that you're moving eight hours away."

"Why does it sound like you're judging me for it?"

"I'm not judging you."

"You kind of are."

He ran a hand through his hair and stood up from the bed, pacing a few steps before turning back toward you. "I just think you're chasing this idea of something."

"Excuse me?"

"New York isn't what people think it is."

"You've never even lived there."

"And neither have you."

The comment landed harder than either of you expected. You stared at him. "What exactly are you trying to say?"

He hesitated, and that hesitation told you there was more. A lot more.

Finally, he spoke. "I just don't think it's good enough for you."

"What?"

His eyes dropped to the floor.

"I don't know."

"Vernon."

He laughed once, frustrated with himself. "You've spent years talking about New York like it's gonna solve everything."

"I never said that."

"You act like it."

"No, I don't."

"You do." The argument was building now. You could both feel it.

"It just feels like you're putting all your hopes into this place and—"

"And what?"

"And I don't think it'll be what you expect."

You shook your head.

"That's not your fucking decision to make is it?"

“No but I-” he snaps his neck back up.

"Then why are we even having this conversation?"

A pause

And then finally said the thing he probably hadn't meant to.

"Because apparently what's here isn't enough."

The words seemed to echo off the walls, hanging between you long after he'd said them.

Vernon looked away immediately, like he wished he could take them back.

Like he'd been trying not to say them for weeks and they'd finally slipped out anyway.

You stared at him. "What?"

"Forget it."

"No."

His shoulders tensed.

"Y/n—"

"No, don't do that." You shook your head. "Don't throw something like that out there and then tell me to forget it."

"I didn't mean it like that."

"Then how did you mean it?"

He didn't answer. The silence made something ugly twist in your chest.

"You think I'm leaving because this place isn't enough?" you asked quietly.

Vernon rubbed both hands over his face.

"No."

"You literally just said—"

"I know what I said."

"Then what the fuck am I supposed to think?" 

For the first time since you'd known him, he looked genuinely lost.

"I just don't understand it."

Your eyebrows furrowed.

"Understand what?"

"You."

This hit you like a ton of bricks. It sunk into every crack of your heart. 

“You are fucking unbelievable.” Your voice cracked halfway through, tears already burning at your eyes. “What does that even mean, Vernon? ‘You don’t understand me’? I’ve known you since we were twelve. What the fuck is there to not understand?”

He flinched at the volume of your voice, like it physically hit him. “That’s not what I meant—”

“Then what did you mean?” you snapped. Your hands shook as you wiped at your face, only for more tears to come immediately. “Because all I’m hearing is you saying I’m doing something wrong by leaving.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You didn’t have to!” Your voice rose again, sharp and breaking. “You’ve been acting like this for weeks, Vernon. Weeks. Like I’m—like I’m leaving you behind on purpose or something. Like I’m supposed to just stay here and—what—what, just give up my whole life because you’re not ready for me to go?”

His expression tightened, jaw clenching like he was holding something back too hard. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it?” you shouted, and the sound bounced off the walls of his room. “Because you keep talking in circles and acting like I’m some stranger now and I don’t get it. I don’t fucking get it!” Your voice broke on the last word, and the tears finally spilled over fully. 

You hated how fast it happened, hated that it made you feel even more out of control. You stood up abruptly from the edge of his bed, moving closer until you were right in front of him.

“Look at me,” you demanded, voice shaking. “Say it. Whatever it is, just fucking say it.”

Vernon’s eyes finally met yours, and that was when you saw it clearly. The strain. The exhaustion. The way he looked like he’d been holding himself together by force alone.

“I’m trying,” he said quietly. “I just- I literally don’t know.”

“You’re not trying hard enough,” you shot back.

He took a small step forward like he wanted to calm you down, like he always did when things got too loud between you two. Something in you snapped.

“Don’t,” you warned.

“Y/N, just—”

“Don’t touch me right now,” you said, and when he didn’t stop moving closer, you shoved him lightly in the chest.

It wasn’t hard. It wasn’t meant to hurt. But it stopped him instantly.

His face changed, not anger. Something much worse.

Hurt.

“Okay,” he said quickly, raising his hands slightly like he was grounding himself. “Okay, I’m not—just listen to me for a second.”

“No,” you shook your head, tears still falling, breath uneven. “You listen to me. I’m leaving tomorrow. Tomorrow. And instead of spending tonight like a normal person, you’re standing here making me feel like shit for it.”

His throat moved like he was swallowing something sharp.

“I’m not trying to make you feel like shit,” he said, voice cracking more now. “I’m trying to tell you I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” you snapped. “Be my friend? Because you’re doing a pretty bad job right now.”

You saw it hit him.

His eyes shone immediately, glassy in a way that made your stomach twist. He blinked fast like he could push it back down, but it didn’t work.

“Stop,” he said, quieter now. “Just stop yelling at me for a second. Please.”

“Then stop saying weird shit Vernon!” you shouted back, voice breaking again. “Stop acting like I’m doing something wrong just because I want to leave!”

“I’m not saying you’re doing something wrong!”

“Then what are you saying?”

His breath shook.

And for a second, he looked like he might actually cry.

“I’m saying I don’t know what I’m supposed to do when you’re not here,” he said finally, voice low and raw.

“I don’t know how to make you understand,” he said, voice breaking fully now, “that you leaving doesn’t just feel like you are going to college. It feels like you’re—like you’re just gone from everything we know.”

Your chest tightened painfully.

“That’s not what this is,” you said, but it came out weaker.

“It is for me,” he snapped back, louder now, finally breaking too. “Because you’re acting like this is just some exciting new chapter and I’m supposed to just be fine with it and I’m not—” He cut off, dragging a hand down his face, tears finally slipping out despite how hard he tried to stop them. “I’m not fine with it. What is there in New York that we don’t have here?”

Both of you were breathing hard now. Both of you were crying, neither of you looking away.

Your hands were shaking at your sides as you stared at him, chest rising unevenly like you couldn’t quite catch your breath.

It wasn’t just the question. It was everything underneath it. The way he said we. Like he didn’t know how to exist without you inside that word.

You laughed once, sharp and wet with tears. “Everything.”

The word landed wrong in the room.

Vernon blinked. “What?”

“Everything,” you repeated, voice shaking harder now. “There’s everything there that isn’t here.”

His face changed instantly, like you’d hit him without touching him.

“That’s not what you mean,” he said, but it sounded less certain now.

“Yes, it is,” you snapped, wiping at your face angrily. “You think I want to stay in this town forever? Doing the same things, seeing the same people, going to the same places where nothing changes?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“But that’s what you’re asking!” Your voice cracked again. “You’re asking me to stay like it wouldn’t kill me a little bit. Like I wouldn’t wake up every day wondering what else I could’ve been.”

Vernon shook his head quickly, tears still streaking down his face now, not even bothering to hide it anymore. “I’m not asking you to stay here forever.”

“Yes, you are,” you shot back immediately. “You just don’t want to say it out loud because it sounds pathetic.”

Vernon looked defeated, small.

And that made you angry all over again, because Vernon wasn’t supposed to be small.

So you said it.

The thing you shouldn’t have said.

“The point is, Vernon,” you said, voice shaking but sharp, “I don’t want to stay.”

The words hit him like a physical blow.

He froze, completely.

For a second he just stared at you.

Then, quietly, almost desperate, he stepped forward.

“Just—” His voice cracked. He swallowed hard. “Just stay tonight. Please.”

The shift was instant. From argument to something softer. Something pleading.

You wiped your face again, laughing bitterly through tears. “Why should I?”

You stared at him for a moment longer, the tension still thick between you, the silence heavy and unbearable.

Then, finally, you exhaled.

“Fine,” you said quietly.

His eyes flickered up instantly.

“I’ll stay.”

It wasn’t forgiveness nor a resolution.

It was just exhaustion. Vernon nodded once, like he was afraid to say anything else would ruin it.

You grabbed your bag, setting it down near the bed, then climbed into your usual side without looking at him.

The space between you felt different now.

Vernon stayed standing for a second longer than necessary, then finally moved to the desk, grabbing the remote without speaking.

He hesitated before clicking the TV on.

A movie started playing—something random, something neither of you were really watching.

The sound filled the room just so there wouldn’t be silence.

He climbed into bed on his side, careful not to touch you.

You didn’t look at him.

He didn’t look at you.

There was no apology. No fixing it. Just the faint glow of the screen, the weight of everything unsaid, and the space between you that suddenly felt bigger than it ever had before.

At some point, your breathing evened out anyway. And even though you were still awake for a while longer, pretending not to feel him there beside you, you eventually fell asleep to the sound of a movie neither of you cared about.

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Vernon woke up to silence.

Not the soft, normal kind that came with early morning light filtering through his blinds. Not the kind where you could still feel someone beside you if you closed your eyes.

This was empty.

He blinked slowly, still half stuck in sleep, until it registered that the space next to him was different than the night before.

The blanket on your side of the bed was smoothed out. The pillow was placed back where it usually sat, like it had never been touched at all. Like you had never been there.

His stomach dropped instantly.

You were gone.

He sat up so fast the room tilted. “Y/n?” he called, voice rough and uneven. Nothing answered. He was out of bed before he even realized it, bare feet hitting the floor as he stumbled toward the door.

“Y/n,” he said again, louder now, walking through his room like you might just be hiding somewhere, like this was some stupid joke he hadn’t caught onto yet.

But the house was quiet.

No footsteps downstairs. No bathroom light. No sound of your voice or your bag being zipped shut or anything at all.

Panic started rising fast, sharp and hot in his chest.

He went back into his room, pacing now, hands running through his hair again and again like he could physically reset what was happening. “No, no, no—” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. “No, she wouldn’t—”

And then it came back, everything from last night crashing into him all at once.

Your voice breaking. His voice breaking. The argument looping over and over in his head like a broken recording.

I don’t want to stay.

The words punched the air out of him all over again. His breathing stuttered.

“No,” he whispered, quieter this time. “No, she didn’t just—”

His voice cracked completely.

He turned sharply, gripping the edge of his desk for balance, trying to ground himself in something real. Something that wasn’t this.

That’s when he saw it. A purple pen, lying neatly on the corner of his desk like it had been placed there carefully on purpose.

His breath caught.

He knew that pen.

He had bought it months ago without thinking much of it, just because you kept stealing his pens every time you came over to do homework. You always claimed you didn’t have one. And every time you ended up using his anyway, complaining about how boring black ink was.

So he bought a purple one.

Because it was your favorite color.

He stared at it like it might disappear if he looked away, and then he saw the note. Folded once. Resting beside it.

His hands shook as he picked it up.

For a moment, he just held it there, not opening it yet, like he already knew whatever was inside would change something he wasn’t ready to lose.

Then he unfolded it, the handwriting was yours.

He didn’t even realize he was crying until a tear hit the paper.

He read it anyway.

Vernon,

I’m not doing this. We can’t leave it like that and then wake up and pretend everything’s fine and nothing happened.

You don’t get to make me feel bad for leaving my life behind when you knew exactly what I’ve always wanted. I needed you to be my best friend last night, not whatever that was.

I’ll call when I land.

—Y/N

His breath came unevenly as he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed without meaning to. The purple pen sat beside the note, bright and stupid and painfully intentional.

His vision blurred.

“No,” he whispered, barely audible. “No, no—”

His hand pressed hard against his mouth like he could hold everything in. Like he could physically stop what was already happening inside him. But it didn’t work.

He bent forward, elbows on his knees, the note still clutched in his hand.

“You didn’t even wake me up,” he said to no one, voice cracking apart in pieces. “You just… left.”

Another breath hitched.

He sat there for a long time after that, the note still in his hand and the purple pen unmoving beside it, until eventually he picked up his phone and just… waited. Hours passed in fragments of nothing—screen lighting up, going dark, lighting up again—every notification that wasn’t you hitting him in the chest a little harder than the last. He checked the time again and again, counting when your flight should’ve landed, convincing himself you were just busy, just tired, just not there yet. But eventually even that excuse ran out. It got well past the time you would’ve texted, and the silence started to feel deliberate. He laid down again without really deciding to, staring up at the ceiling like if he looked long enough it might give him something back, waiting for the call from the East side that never came.

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Since landing in New York, everything had gone almost exactly the way you'd hoped it would.

Moving into your dorm was surprisingly easy. A few boxes, a couple of awkward elevator trips, and suddenly your entire life fit into one small room overlooking a street that never seemed to quiet down. It felt strange at first, being somewhere so different from home, but exciting too. Like every time you stepped outside, something new was waiting for you.

Classes started a few days later, and somehow the first week flew by.

You found your lecture halls faster than expected, figured out the subway without getting completely lost, and settled into a routine almost immediately. Your professors seemed interesting, the coursework felt manageable, and every day introduced you to someone new.

You were where you'd always wanted to be. You were making friends. You were adjusting. You were happy.

And yet, every once in a while, usually during the quiet moments between classes or when you were walking back to your dorm after sunset, something felt... off.

Not wrong. Just incomplete.

You told yourself it was homesickness. It had to be. You were hundreds of miles away from everything you'd ever known. Anyone would feel strange after a move like this.

Still, some nights when your phone lit up with messages from new friends making plans, your eyes would drift toward the contacts you hadn't opened in days.

Toward the one name you kept avoiding.

And every time, that same uncomfortable feeling settled in your chest before you quickly looked away and convinced yourself it would pass.

It had only been a week. Eventually, you told yourself, everything would feel normal again.

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Vernon had been so sure staying home would be easier. At least that was what he'd told himself.

The first day, he got up before his alarm even went off. He showered, got dressed, grabbed his backpack, and went to class. Everything felt normal on the surface. His professors talked, students introduced themselves, and he nodded through conversations he barely processed.

Then he came home.

And the second his bedroom door closed behind him, the silence hit. He ended up lying on his bed staring at the ceiling until dinner.

The next morning wasn't much different.

Wake up. Go to school. Come home. Wake up. Go to school. Come home.

The routine became mechanical, something he forced himself through because not doing it would require admitting something was wrong. His classes weren't even bad. They were fine. Interesting, sometimes. Easy enough to follow.

But every day felt heavier than the last.

By the middle of the week he wasn't sleeping properly anymore.

He'd lie awake until three or four in the morning, staring at the glow of his ceiling fan as his thoughts raced endlessly in circles. Every conversation replayed. Every mistake replayed. Every word from that night replayed. The worst part was that he couldn't even explain what was happening to him.

He was angry all the time.

Angry at himself, angry at how he'd handled everything, angry that he couldn't stop thinking about you and what happened that night. Every morning he looked in the mirror and barely recognized the person staring back. He hated how exhausted he looked. Hated how miserable he felt.

And people noticed, new people, new faces at school. The ones he'd met in classes. The ones who only knew the version of Vernon that showed up every morning looking exhausted and left every conversation early. At first they just thought he was shy, then they thought maybe he was stressed. Eventually they stopped trying to guess.

He wasn't rude. He wasn't unfriendly. He'd answer questions when people talked to him, laugh occasionally at the right moments, participate in group discussions. But it always felt like half of him was missing.

By the fourth week of school, Vernon barely recognized himself. Every day felt gray and just plain dull. 

His friends would text. He'd ignore them.

People invited him places. He'd make excuses.

Eventually most of them stopped asking. And honestly, he couldn't blame them.

He hated being around himself too.

And the worst part was, he knew he was like this because of you. 

Not that he would ever admit it. At least not out loud.

But every night told the truth for him.

Most mornings, Vernon wasn't waking up at six. He was still awake at six. The darkness outside his window would slowly fade into pale morning light while he remained exactly where he'd been for hours, staring blankly at the ceiling. His body was exhausted, his eyes burned constantly, but his mind refused to shut off. Thinking about you had become second nature.

Sometimes he'd replay old conversations over and over. Other nights he'd unlock his phone and scroll through old pictures of the two of you together. Photos from random afternoons, blurry pictures from late-night drives, screenshots of stupid things you'd sent him. He knew every picture by heart at this point, but he looked at them anyway.

It wasn't as simple as missing his best friend. It wasn't as simple as missing having someone around. It felt bigger than that, but every time he got close to figuring it out, he stopped himself. He just knew that life felt wrong without you in it. Like someone had quietly removed something important and expected him not to notice.

And maybe the saddest thing of all was the note.

The stupid note you'd left on his desk beside the purple pen.

A month later, the paper was worn soft from being unfolded and folded back together so many times. Every night before bed he'd take it out. Every morning before class he'd read it again. Eventually it found a permanent home underneath his pillow because he couldn't bear to put it anywhere else.

It was ridiculous, honestly. A part of him knew that.

But another part of him kept hoping that maybe if he read it one more time, maybe if he stared at your handwriting a little longer, maybe somehow his phone would light up with your name. Maybe there'd be a text waiting for him. Maybe you'd finally call.

You never did.

Still, he kept reading it.

His mom noticed before anyone else. Of course she did.

She noticed the dark circles under his eyes. She noticed how quickly he disappeared into his room after classes. She noticed the untouched dinners, the way he barely spoke anymore, the way he looked like he was carrying something heavy that nobody else could see.

For weeks she never said anything. She never pushed. Never cornered him. Never demanded answers.

Then one evening she found him sitting alone at the kitchen table.

The house was quiet. The television wasn't on. The clock ticked softly from somewhere in the living room.

Vernon was staring down at his phone, not even really looking at it.

His mom stood in the doorway for a moment before speaking.

"Vernon."

He looked up.

Her expression softened immediately. "What's wrong?"

That was it. Just three words. And somehow they shattered whatever strength he had left.

His face crumpled before he could stop it. His breathing hitched violently and suddenly he was crying.

Not the quiet tears he'd gotten used to hiding at night. Not the controlled kind.

Full sobs.

The kind that made his chest hurt. The kind that made it impossible to breathe.  Weeks of exhaustion, loneliness, guilt, confusion, and heartbreak came crashing out of him all at once. He buried his face in his hands as sob after sob tore through him, his shoulders shaking so hard he could barely stay upright.

And through all of it, his mom never asked who.

She never asked why. She never asked him to explain. Because she already knew.

She knew whose name he kept checking his phone for. She knew who he was thinking about when he stared off into space. She knew why he suddenly hated being home. She knew who was missing.

So instead she sat beside him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

And she let him cry. She let him cry until his face hurt.

Until his eyes were swollen. Until there was nothing left inside him to hold back.

Not once did she push for answers. She simply sat there beside her son while he mourned something he couldn't fully understand himself, because she had watched it happen long before he did.

She had watched you become the first person he looked for when he walked into a room. The first person he texted when something funny happened. The first person he wanted to tell everything to.

And now she was watching him try to figure out how to live without that. 

And he was so fucking sad.

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A month had gone by for you as well. At least that's what the calendar showed. For you, the days had blurred together so quickly that it was hard to believe you'd already been in New York for four weeks. And honestly? You thought you were doing pretty well.

You had friends now, too. Real friends. The kind that texted you at midnight asking if you wanted food, the kind that dragged you out on Thursday nights and convinced you one drink wouldn't hurt.

Most weekends, you found yourself somewhere loud. House parties. Tiny apartments overflowing with people. Music shaking the walls and red cups constantly finding their way into your hands. You told yourself it was fun, and it was, mostly. The alcohol helped too. Not because things were spiraling, but because it made everything quieter. The lingering thoughts from home. The memories you didn't want to unpack. The feeling that something had been left unfinished. You never let yourself sit with those thoughts for long.

You were here for a reason. This was your chance.

You wanted to reinvent yourself. You wanted people to meet you without already knowing every embarrassing story from your childhood. You wanted to become someone new. Someone exciting. Someone who wasn't constantly looking backward.

For the most part, it was working.

Then one Tuesday afternoon, you met Minghao.

You were sitting in class waiting for the professor to arrive when the guy beside you leaned over and pointed at one of the stickers covering your laptop.

"You have good taste."

You looked up and immediately forgot what you were about to say.

Minghao was ridiculously pretty. Long blonde hair that just touched his shoulders in a messy mullet-like style, silver rings on nearly every finger, light tattoos scattered on his arms. 

You laughed. "Thanks. You too?"

He pointed toward the headphones hanging around his neck.

"What gave it away?"

The conversation started there and somehow never stopped. By the time class began, you'd spent fifteen minutes talking about music. By the time class ended, you'd spent another ten. Favorite artists. Favorite albums. Concerts. Songs that changed your life. It flowed so naturally that it felt like you'd known him for months instead of an hour.

At one point you laughed and shook your head. "You know, I came here fully convinced I was gonna start a band."

Minghao's eyes widened immediately.

"A band?"

"Yeah."

"You weren't joking?"

"Mostly joking."

"No way."

The excitement in his voice made you laugh.

"I'm serious," he said. "I have two friends who would absolutely lose their minds over this."

"What?"

"Joshua and Seungcheol."

He sat up straighter as he spoke.

"Josh can play basically anything with strings. Guitar, bass, piano, whatever. And Seungcheol somehow knows every instrument under the sun."

"You're exaggerating."

"I'm really not."

You couldn't stop smiling.

"And I play bass," he added.

"You do?"

"Yeah."

Suddenly he looked like he was already planning rehearsals.

Minghao gathered his things before casually clearing his throat.

"So..."

You looked up.

"So?"

"If we're gonna start this world-famous band, we're gonna need to communicate somehow."

You laughed. "Oh, obviously."

"Obviously."

His grin widened.

"So maybe I should get your number."

You narrowed your eyes immediately. "For band business?"

"Entirely professional."

"Professional."

"Extremely."

You handed him your phone, laughing as he typed his contact information in.

The truth was, Minghao would've asked for your number anyway. Band or no band.

The second you'd started talking, he'd been interested. Not enough to make it obvious. Not enough to openly flirt. But enough that he caught himself looking forward to hearing your laugh again. Enough that he'd already decided he wanted an excuse to see you outside of class.

Of course, he wasn't about to admit any of that.

Instead, he handed your phone back and shrugged.

"You know. For band stuff."

You rolled your eyes.

"Right. Band stuff."

"Exactly."

And neither of you mentioned how excited you both looked.

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Another month passed before you even realized it. Time was really flying. The leaves had started changing color, the air had gotten colder, and suddenly it was mid October.

And still, you hadn't heard a single thing from Vernon.

No text. No call. No apology. Nothing.

At first, you'd expected some kind of conversation eventually. Maybe not immediately. Maybe not even after a few weeks. But eventually.

You'd left him a note. You'd given him space. And somehow that space had stretched into complete silence. You checked less and less as the weeks went on, but every once in a while you'd still find yourself opening your messages and staring at his contact.

At first it hurt. Then it confused you. Eventually it started making you angry.

Because what exactly had happened that night?

You'd replayed the argument so many times that parts of it felt scripted. Back then, you'd been convinced he was wrong, convinced he was being unfair, convinced he didn't understand you.

Now, months later, you weren't even sure he had understood himself.

Because if he had, surely he would've said something by now. Surely he would've explained. Surely he would've reached out.

Instead, he'd disappeared.

And somehow that felt worse.

The anger settled somewhere permanent inside you. Not enough to ruin your days, but enough to linger. Enough that every time something reminded you of him, irritation immediately followed.

Meanwhile, your life kept moving.

The band idea had somehow become real. You, Minghao, Joshua, and Seungcheol had become inseparable. Most days, if one of you was somewhere, the other three weren't far behind. You spent hours together in practice rooms, crowded into dorms, wandering through the city after classes, talking about music until two in the morning.

For the first time since arriving in New York, you genuinely felt like you belonged.

Naturally, your social media started filling up with them.

One post was a group picture from a night out. The four of you packed together on a sidewalk downtown, everyone's arms around each other, the photo slightly blurry because nobody could stop laughing long enough to stay still.

Another was a candid someone had snapped during practice. You and Joshua sitting across from each other with guitars in your laps, both laughing over a mistake you'd made halfway through a song.

Then there was the selfie Minghao took one afternoon.

Your arm was thrown over his shoulder while he shoved his face against yours at the last second, both of you smiling directly into the camera. Looking at it objectively, you had to admit it looked suspicious. Not intentionally. But if someone didn't know either of you, they could easily assume something was going on. They might even think you were dating.

The funny thing was that every single time you posted one of those pictures, the exact same thought crossed your mind.

Vernon is going to see this.

A small, petty part of you wanted him to see them.

Wanted him to wonder. Wanted him to look at the photo of you and Minghao and feel confused. Maybe jealous.

You hated admitting that to yourself, but why did you feel that way?

But after months of silence? After months of him acting like you didn't exist? Part of you wanted him to feel something. The same way you'd spent weeks feeling abandoned. So sometimes you'd hit post with that thought sitting quietly in the back of your mind.

But every single time, the feeling disappeared the second the post went live.

Because underneath the anger was something else.

Guilt.

You'd stare at the pictures afterward and feel it settle heavily in your chest.

The photos weren't fake. That was the problem.

The smiles were real. The laughs were real. The friendships were real. You genuinely cared about these people, and they cared about you. 

Yet somehow it felt wrong that a small part of your motivation had been tied to someone hundreds of miles away who wasn't even speaking to you.

Someone who might not even see the post, someone who might not care.

And somehow that possibility bothered you more than anything else.

Because if Vernon really didn't care...

Then why were you still thinking about him every time your finger hovered over the post button? You didn’t have an answer for that.

So instead, you'd lock your phone, shove the feeling aside, and let Joshua drag you back into another conversation, let Seungcheol talk your ear off about music theory, let Minghao throw an arm around your shoulders while making you laugh.

While pretending it wasn’t eating you alive.

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Vernon saw every post. Every single one. Even though he never liked them, never commented, never reached out, he saw all of them. The group photos, the late-night outings, the practice sessions, the blurry snapshots of a life that seemed to be moving forward without him.

At first he told himself he was just curious. Just checking in. Just making sure you were okay. But curiosity quickly turned into something else entirely. Something he didn’t want to admit he was doing every night. Long after everyone else in his house was asleep, he’d lie in bed with his phone inches from his face, scrolling through your profile, looking for something that would make it feel less like he was being left behind.

And every picture only made it worse.

You looked happy. Genuinely happy. That should’ve comforted him, but it didn’t. Because it wasn’t a new smile. It was the same one. The exact same one from every memory he kept replaying in his head. The same smile from random afternoons, from old photos still saved in his camera roll, from moments where everything had felt easy.

Then there was Minghao. He didn’t know who Minghao was.

That selfie destroyed him.

He stared at it for so long the screen dimmed. Your arm was around Minghao’s shoulder, your faces pressed together, both of you smiling like it was effortless, like you belonged in that frame together. Vernon zoomed in, then out, then in again, analyzing it like it might give him an answer that made it hurt less. The way Minghao leaned in, the way you didn’t pull away, the comfort between you that looked so natural it made his chest feel tight.

Hours passed like that. Just staring. Thinking. Spiraling.

Until something inside him snapped.

He shot up from his bed so fast the blankets slid off, his phone dropping onto the mattress as he started pacing. “No,” he muttered under his breath, more panicked than angry, running his hands through his hair like he could physically reset his thoughts. Because for months he’d been avoiding the truth, pretending he didn’t understand what this feeling was, but now he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

It was jealousy.

Real, consuming jealousy.

Not of Minghao himself, not really, but of what Minghao had. Of the space he took in your life. By the way, he could make you laugh in real time. Of how easily he existed beside you while Vernon was stuck watching from a distance.

And once he admitted that, everything else followed too.

He wasn’t just jealous. 

He was in love with you.

And it took him this long to realize that is what it was.

It hit him like something physical, knocking the air out of him as he stood there frozen in his room. Months of confusion suddenly made sense in the worst possible way. The constant thoughts. The inability to move on. The way everything felt wrong since you left. It all traced back to the same place.

He loved you.

Not as a friend. Not as something vague and safe he could tuck away and ignore.

He loved you in a way that made everything else feel like it had been a lie.

And now you were gone.

New York. New life. New people. A version of you he wasn’t part of anymore.

That realization sat on his chest like a weight he couldn’t lift. Because while you were building something new, he was still stuck in the same room, replaying the same memories, realizing too late what he had actually lost.

Sleep stopped coming after that.

He’d lie awake until morning, staring at the ceiling, your posts still open on his phone beside him. His body exhausted, his mind refusing to shut off. Every night felt longer than the last, like time itself was stretching just to keep him in this state.

And somewhere between the jealousy and the regret and the love he should’ve admitted months ago, a quieter fear started settling in.

What if this never goes away?

What if he spends the rest of his life like this?

Lying awake. Thinking about you.

He was scared he would never sleep again.

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October flew by in a flash.

One moment it was still early fall, the city just starting to cool down, and the next it was already late in the month with winter quietly pressing in at the edges. The band had become real in a way you still sometimes couldn’t believe. You were writing music now, actually writing it, not just talking about it in class. You were playing gigs in small, crowded bars scattered around the city, places with sticky floors and flickering neon signs and audiences that didn’t always listen at first but eventually did.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, you started finding yourself on stage.

There were moments during sets where everything else disappeared. Just you, the music, the lights, the sound of the band behind you holding everything together. You’d step off stage afterward slightly out of breath, slightly shaking, adrenaline still buzzing through you, trying to convince yourself you looked as confident as people said you did in the photos.

Because you did post them.

Photos from gigs where you leaned into the mic like you knew exactly what you were doing. Photos where you laughed with Joshua between songs. Photos where Minghao stood beside you with his bass slung low, looking like he belonged there more than anyone else. Photos that made you look miles cooler than you actually felt.

From the outside, it looked like you were settling in perfectly.

But as October bled into early November, something started to shift.

You started feeling sick.

Not all at once. Not dramatically. Just quietly, constantly. A low heaviness in your body that didn’t go away. Homesickness that didn’t feel like nostalgia anymore but something sharper, more physical. You’d wake up tired even after sleeping. You’d sit in class and realize you hadn’t absorbed a single word. You’d walk through the city feeling like you were slightly behind yourself, like your body was moving but your mind wasn’t fully inside it.

It started to feel like you were watching your life from the outside instead of living it.

You tried to ignore it. You told yourself you were just adjusting, that this was normal, that it would pass. But the feeling stayed.

You tried talking to Minghao about it one night after practice. You didn’t even really know how to explain it, just that you felt off, like you weren’t fully present in your own life anymore. He listened, like he always did, and he helped in the moment. He made you laugh. He distracted you. He stayed with you until you felt a little more like yourself again.

But the moment he left your place that night, the emptiness came back.

That was the part you didn’t understand.

Because with Minghao, Joshua, and Seungcheol, you could feel better temporarily. You could feel lighter, distracted, almost normal. But it never stayed.

And you started noticing something you couldn’t un-notice.

That hadn’t happened with Vernon.

With Vernon, things didn’t just feel better for a moment. They felt fixed. Like whatever was wrong in your head would quiet completely when he was around. Like your thoughts didn’t just get lighter, they disappeared entirely. Like being with him made it feel like nothing was wrong in the first place.

Now, there was no silence like that anymore.

Because part of you started realizing how much of your life in New York didn’t include anything from home. Not mentally. Not emotionally. You were building something completely new, and on paper that was what you wanted, but in reality it left you feeling disconnected from everything you used to be.

You weren’t fully here.

But you also weren’t fully there anymore.

And that in-between space started to feel like the only place you existed.

You’d sit in your room at night after rehearsals, staring at nothing, feeling floaty in a way that made it hard to ground yourself. Like your thoughts were slightly delayed behind your actions. Like your life was happening a step ahead of you and you were constantly trying to catch up.

And the worst part was the guilt.

Because you were supposed to be thriving.

You were supposed to be happy.

You were supposed to have left everything behind cleanly, fully, without looking back.

Instead, you felt like you were slowly losing pieces of yourself in places you couldn’t name, surrounded by people you cared about, doing things you loved, and still somehow feeling like you were slipping out of your own life without knowing how to stop it.

Minghao noticed it too.

At first, he thought it was just stress. Mid-semester exhaustion, maybe. New city fatigue. Something that would pass once things settled. But it didn’t pass. It just… shifted.

You were still there, physically, still showing up to rehearsals and gigs, still laughing at the right moments, still performing like you were supposed to. But between those moments, you were somewhere else entirely. Spaced out mid-conversation. Slow to respond. Quiet in a way that didn’t feel like comfort anymore, just absence.

And the worst part for him was that he remembered who you used to be.

The version of you from the beginning of the semester, when everything felt exciting and sharp and full of possibility. When you talked too fast about music ideas, when you lit up mid-sentence about starting a band, when you couldn’t sit still because your mind was always already three steps ahead of your life.

That version of you had felt alive in a way that was impossible to ignore.

And if he was being honest with himself, that version of you was the one he’d been drawn to in the first place.

The one he’d had a little thing for, even if he never fully admitted it.

Now, though, that spark only showed up in fragments. On stage. Under lights. When the music was loud enough to pull something back out of you for a few minutes at a time. The second the set ended, it dimmed again.

Outside of that, you were drifting.

Minghao tried not to take it personally. He really did. He knew people got overwhelmed, especially in a place like New York. But over time, it started to wear on him. He’d talk to you after rehearsals and feel like he was talking through glass. You’d nod, respond, even smile, but it didn’t feel like you were actually there.

You also weren’t spending as much time with him anymore. Not intentionally, not in a dramatic way, just slowly, naturally. Plans got shorter. Conversations got lighter. You started leaving earlier, saying you were tired, and he stopped pushing because every time he looked at you too closely, he could tell you were already running on empty. And he cared about you so fucking much.

So he swallowed it, all of it.

Until the night you were supposed to write together.

It was meant to be simple. Just the two of you working on a track for the band, something you’d talked about earlier in the week. You’d agreed on it casually, but even then, he could tell your enthusiasm hadn’t been there the same way it used to be.

He had a long day, he was tired, he was worried of the mood you would be in if you decided to write with him as planned.

Your phone screen lit up:

Hao: Hey I’m not feelin too great, can we postpone our writing sesh?

Y/n: Okay just let me know.

You stared at your phone for a long moment after reading his message. Not feeling too great. Can we postpone. It didn’t sound like an excuse. It sounded real. But still, your chest tightened in a way you didn’t immediately understand.

He’d never really cancelled on you like that before.

Not like this.

You sat there in your room, phone still in your hand, staring at the dim reflection of yourself on the screen. Outside, the rain had started again, tapping softly against the window, filling the silence in a way that made everything feel heavier.

Slowly, uncomfortably, a thought crept in. Maybe he didn’t want to deal with you like this. Not angry, not dramatic, just tired. Tired of your silence mid-conversation, tired of your spaced-out answers, tired of you showing up but not really being there. The realization didn’t come all at once, it came in pieces, each one quieter than the last until it settled in your chest.

You were exhausting to be around.

And you already knew you were exhausting to yourself.

You got up without really deciding to, pacing your room once before stopping at your desk. Everything felt slightly out of focus, like you were watching yourself from a distance. You didn’t even realize you were crying until your vision blurred. You hated it, hated how easily it came now, hated how often it happened, hated that you couldn’t even explain what exactly hurt anymore, just that everything did. Dull. Lost. Scared. Sad. It all blurred together into something you couldn’t shake.

And then it clicked.

Vernon.

Not suddenly, not cleanly, but like something you’d been avoiding finally pushing through. Your breath caught as you reached behind your phone case and pulled out a Polaroid you hadn’t looked at in weeks.

Last summer. The beach with both your families.

Your arms wrapped tightly around his neck, face split into the brightest smile, wet salty hair everywhere, his hands locked around your waist pulling you in like he didn’t want any space between you at all. He looked happy. You looked happier.

You stared at it for too long.

Then something broke.

The first sob came out sharp, like it surprised even you. Then another. Then another. Your hands shook so badly you could barely hold the photo as your breathing turned uneven and panicked, collapsing in on itself. It wasn’t just sadness anymore, it was realization, all at once, too loud, too clear.

You weren’t just homesick. You weren’t just overwhelmed. You weren’t just adjusting. You had been falling apart slowly for months without understanding why.

And now you did.

It was because of him.

Because of Vernon.

Because you loved him.

The thought hit you like something physical, stealing the air from your lungs. You sank onto your bed still clutching the Polaroid, crying harder now, unable to breathe properly through it, the rain outside louder than before, like it was the only thing steady in the room.

You shouldn’t have left. You shouldn’t have told yourself distance would make it easier.

Because all it had done was make everything clearer.

And in a shaking, rain-soaked room in New York, holding onto a summer you couldn’t get back to, you finally understood you hadn’t just missed him.

You had been in love with him the entire time.

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You sat there staring at your phone for a long time, the Polaroid still trembling slightly in your hand. Your brain wouldn’t stop moving in circles. Message him. Don’t message him. You already left. He already left you. But he didn’t really leave you, did he? He just stopped talking. And maybe you deserved that. Maybe you didn’t. The thoughts overlapped until you couldn’t tell which ones were yours anymore.

What would you even say?

Hey, I’m sorry. Hey, I miss you. Hey, I think I ruined everything. Hey, I think I love you.

Your chest tightened harder at that last one.

You stood up, paced once, sat back down. Your phone screen lit up again in your hand like it was waiting for you to make a mistake or finally make sense of something. Your breathing was uneven now, thoughts speeding up instead of slowing down.

Fuck it.

The words slipped out of your mouth before you could stop them.

Your fingers moved before your brain could catch up.

You opened the chat.

Y/n: Hey I was thinking about you, I hope you are doing well.

You stared at it for half a second.

Then sent it. No edits. No second guessing. Just gone.

States away, Vernon was asleep for the first time in what felt like weeks. Not deep, perfect sleep, but the kind his body finally forced him into after days of exhaustion piling on top of each other. He’d collapsed into it without realizing, like his system had simply given up resisting.

His phone lit up in the dark.

He groaned slightly, rolling over, dragging himself back into awareness. The room was still dim when he finally grabbed his phone, squinting at the screen through sleep-heavy eyes.

Your name.

Right there.

With the same little emoji you had put next to your contact in middle school that he never let you change.

His throat tightened immediately as he sat up too fast.

Then again, slower this time, like his brain was refusing to process the words properly.

“Hey I was thinking about you, I hope you are doing well.”

He said it out loud without realizing.

And then he broke.

It wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t controlled. It hit him all at once, his breath catching so hard it hurt as tears flooded his face immediately. His hands started shaking violently, phone slipping slightly in his grip as he pressed it against his chest like that would somehow make it real.

Because it was real.

You texted him.

After months.

After silence.

After everything.

And suddenly all the sleep he’d finally managed to get felt like it shattered instantly.

What he didn’t know was that you were sitting in your room at the exact same time, staring at your own phone, waiting for something that didn’t come yet, your heart racing so hard you could barely sit still.

For the next week, Vernon barely functioned.

He went through the motions like a ghost. School. Home. Bed. Repeat. He didn’t meet friends. He barely spoke to his family. He didn’t open the message again after the first time because it hurt too much to read it without breaking all over again.

He didn’t respond either.

Not because he didn’t want to.

Because he did.

Too much.

Every time he even thought about typing, his mind short-circuited. Because what was he supposed to say after months of silence? How do you respond to the person you’ve been in love with for months without admitting everything all at once?

And that was the problem.

Because now he knew.

He didn’t just miss you.

He missed your presence in the smallest ways that had somehow become everything.

The way you existed beside him without needing words. The way your body would naturally settle next to his when you shared a bed, like it belonged there. The way he would wake up before you sometimes and just lie there watching the sunlight hit your hair, smiling to himself without even thinking about it.

The way your breathing would be soft and steady beside him when the world felt too loud.

He missed that. He missed all of it.

And somewhere in the middle of the exhaustion and panic and silence, it hit him so clearly it almost made him sick.

He hadn’t just been attached to you.

He had been in love with you the entire time.

He just hadn’t known how to say it until you were already gone. And that's what he wasn’t understanding the night you both had fought. 

You waited.

At first it was calm. You told yourself he was probably asleep, that he’d respond when he woke up, that maybe he just didn’t know what to say yet. Then hours passed, then a day, then two. Still nothing. No reply, no acknowledgment, no sign that your message had even landed the way you’d hoped. Just silence.

And the silence started to feel familiar in the worst way.

You tried to rationalize it at first, sitting there on your bed with your phone in your hand, replaying the moment you sent the text over and over. Maybe he needed time. Maybe he was overwhelmed. Maybe he just didn’t know how to respond. But each excuse felt thinner than the last, until there was nothing comforting left in them.

Eventually it settled into something heavier.

He didn’t respond.

The realization didn’t come as shock anymore, it came as collapse. Like your body already knew before your mind caught up. Your chest tightened so hard you had to bend forward slightly, your breathing turning uneven as you stared at the screen like it might change if you looked long enough.

The thought that followed came quietly, but it was worse than everything else.

Am I going home to no one?

The question didn’t have an answer you could tolerate. You got up, pacing your room once, then again, trying to shake the feeling out of your body, but it only followed you. The space around you felt too open and too empty at the same time, like there was nowhere to put what you were feeling.

Anger tried to surface after that, sharp and unstable. He could disappear for months and still not say anything? After you finally reached out? After you actually tried?

But even that didn’t last. It folded back into something worse, something smaller and more personal. Not anger at him, but confusion about yourself. Why did this hurt so much? Why did everything feel so unstable just because of one unanswered message?

Before you could spiral further, your phone buzzed again.

Minghao: I’m coming over.

You didn’t respond. You didn’t have to.

When he arrived, he didn’t bring his usual energy with him. No teasing, no lightness, no easy smile. Just quiet concern as he stepped inside, taking in your face before the door was even fully closed behind him.

He didn’t ask what was wrong immediately. He just stayed close enough to make it clear he wasn’t going anywhere, watching you for a moment as if confirming something he already suspected.

You could feel it in the way he looked at you, like he’d been noticing this build-up for a while but hadn’t wanted to say it out loud. The way you weren’t fully present anymore. The way your attention kept slipping away mid-conversation. The way even when you laughed, it didn’t reach all the way through you.

Minghao sat beside you eventually, not too close, but close enough that the space didn’t feel as wide anymore. He didn’t push you to talk, but he also didn’t let you completely disappear into yourself like you had been doing for weeks.

“You’ve been like this for a while,” he said finally, voice calm, not accusing. Just observant.

You let out a small breath, staring at your hands. “Like what?”

He didn’t answer immediately, like he was choosing not to say it too harshly. “Not here,” he said simply.

That made something in your chest tighten. You gave a small, almost defensive laugh, but it didn’t land. “I am here.”

Minghao shook his head slightly. “You show up. But you’re not really here. Not with us. Not with anything.”

You swallowed, looking away toward the floor. “I don’t know how to stop it.”

There was a pause. He shifted a little closer, still careful not to overwhelm you. “Stop what?”

Your fingers curled into your sleeve. You hesitated, then exhaled like you were giving up on holding it in. “Feeling like I’m… not in my own life anymore.”

That made him go quiet for a moment. His expression softened, but it didn’t turn pitying. Just understanding in a way that made it worse.

“Is it New York?” he asked gently. “The band? School? You don’t have to pretend if it’s too much.”

You shook your head quickly. “It’s not that. I mean, it is, but it’s not just that.” Your voice wavered slightly. “I should be happy. I am happy. I think. I don’t know why I still feel like this.”

Minghao studied you carefully. “Like what?”

“Like I left something behind and I didn’t realize how much it would hurt,” you admitted quietly.

The room went still again.

He didn’t interrupt. He just let you keep going if you needed to.

You let out a shaky breath. “And now it’s like everything is happening and I’m not fully inside it. Like I’m watching it instead of living it.”

Minghao nodded slowly, like he understood more than he was saying. “And it gets worse when you’re alone.”

That made your throat tighten immediately, because it was true.

You looked at him for a second, then away again. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he said, a little firmer now, but still gentle. “You’re just not okay right now.”

You let out a small, broken laugh. “That’s basically the same thing.”

“It’s not,” he replied. Then, after a pause, softer, “It means something’s hurting you. Not that you’re broken.”

That made your eyes sting again, and you quickly looked down so he wouldn’t see.

He leaned back slightly, giving you space but not distance. “Do you want to talk about it? Or do you just want me to sit here?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “Both? Neither?”

“That’s fine,” he said simply. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“I’m trying,” you said quietly, almost like an apology.

“I know,” he replied immediately. “I can see that. That’s why I’m not leaving.”

That made your eyes close for a second, because even that simple sentence felt like too much and not enough at the same time.

And for now, he just stayed there with you in the quiet, letting you exist without having to explain anything.

“You should try to sleep after this,” he said gently.

You gave a small nod, even though you weren’t sure sleep would actually come.

He stood up slowly, grabbing his things. There was a brief pause at the door, like he was checking one last time that you were okay enough to be left alone.

“If it gets bad again,” he said, “just text me. Okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

He hesitated, then stepped back toward you instead of leaving immediately. It wasn’t dramatic or sudden, just a quiet instinct. He opened his arms slightly, and you leaned into it without thinking too much.

The hug wasn’t tight or overwhelming. It was steady. Grounding. The kind of hug that didn’t ask anything from you except to exist for a second without falling apart. You didn’t realize how much you needed that until your shoulders relaxed slightly into him.

When he finally left, the apartment felt different again. Quieter, yes, but not as suffocating as before. More like space instead of emptiness.

For a while after the door closed, you just sat there. Staring at nothing. Letting the silence settle in a way that didn’t immediately crush you. And slowly, almost uncomfortably, something shifted.

The panic didn’t disappear, but it loosened its grip just enough for clarity to slip in.

The show.

You had a huge performance coming up with the band. A real one. The kind people actually showed up for. The kind that mattered.

You looked around your room like you were seeing it properly for the first time in days. Your gear. Your notes. The faint reminders of rehearsals you’d been half-present for lately. It all suddenly felt like something you were supposed to be part of again, not something happening around you.

“I can’t keep doing this,” you muttered to yourself, voice barely steady.

And for the first time in a while, it didn’t feel like defeat. It felt like a decision.

The next few rehearsals were different.You showed up earlier. You actually listened through entire takes without drifting away halfway. You started adding small ideas again, quiet at first, then more confidently as the days passed. Joshua noticed it first, joking lightly about how you were “back in the room,” and Seungcheol started leaning into your suggestions more seriously again.

Minghao noticed too, but he didn’t make a big deal out of it. He just met your energy where it was, like he was glad you were coming back but didn’t want to scare it off by pointing it out too loudly.

And slowly, something in you started to flicker again.

Your spark didn’t come back all at once. It returned in pieces. In moments during rehearsals where a melody finally clicked. In small laughs between takes. In the way your hands stopped shaking as much when you picked up your instrument.

Vernon was still there, in the background of your thoughts. Still a dull ache sometimes, especially at night when everything quieted down. The absence hadn’t disappeared. It just stopped swallowing everything whole.

And for the first time in a while, you could breathe around it instead of drowning in it. You were still figuring it out.

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When the show got close, everything started moving faster again.

Rehearsals tightened up, setlists got finalized, and suddenly there wasn’t much room for spiraling thoughts in between sound checks and late-night practice sessions. You were still a little fragile under it all, but you were functioning in a way that finally felt intentional instead of accidental.

So you posted.

A simple Instagram post for the band. A flyer for the show, a few behind-the-scenes photos from rehearsals, a couple candid shots where you were laughing mid-break, trying to get as many people to come as possible. Your caption was light, casual, promotional. Nothing heavy. Nothing personal.

Still, your thumb hovered over the screen for a second longer than it should’ve before you hit share.

You didn’t expect anything from it. Not really.

But Vernon saw it.

He’d been scrolling without thinking, the habit still there even if everything else between you had gone quiet. And then your post appeared. The date. The venue. Your face in motion again, alive in a way that looked slightly distant but still undeniably you.

He stared at it for a long time.

Then he did something he hadn’t done in a while.

He liked it.

It was small. Almost meaningless. Just a tap. But for you, when the notification came through later that day, it stopped you mid-step.

You froze.

His name.

The like sitting under your post like it hadn’t been gone for months.

You stared at it longer than you meant to, thumb hovering over the notification. For a second your mind raced in every direction at once, but nothing landed firmly enough to turn into a thought you could hold onto. In the end, you just exhaled shakily and whispered to yourself, “So… He is alive.”

That was all you let it be. A sign he existed. Not a message. Not an answer. Not a return. Just proof that somewhere out there, he was still there too.

What you didn’t know was that the moment Vernon saw the date of your show, something in him locked into place.

He didn’t overthink it. He didn’t ask anyone.

He didn’t tell his friends, didn’t explain it to his family, didn’t even fully process it in words. He just opened his laptop, searched flights, and booked one to New York.

The confirmation email came through, and he stared at it for a long moment without blinking, like if he thought too hard about it, he might talk himself out of it.

But he didn’t.

Because for months, he’d been surviving on silence and screens and memories that didn’t stop replaying no matter how much he wanted them to.

And now there was a date.

A place. You.

He closed his laptop slowly, hands still slightly shaking, and finally let himself admit the truth he’d been avoiding since the day you left.

He didn’t just want to see you. He needed to. So he didn’t say anything to anyone. Not a word. He just started packing like it was the most natural thing in the world, like this wasn’t going to change everything, like he wasn’t about to step back into a version of his life he hadn’t been able to leave behind.

Because in his mind, there was no real alternative anymore. He just needed to see you.

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The day of the show came faster than you expected, like the semester had collapsed in on itself all at once. One moment you were still running through rehearsals, and the next you were standing backstage, hearing the low hum of a packed venue on the other side of the curtain.

You didn’t have time to overthink it.

There was only movement, only soundchecks, only the familiar chaos of getting everyone into place. And somewhere in the middle of it all, something in you clicked back into alignment. Not fully healed, not fully steady, but present in a way you hadn’t felt in months.

When the lights hit, everything changed. Stepping onto stage felt like breathing again after holding it in too long. The noise of the crowd swallowed you whole in the best way, and suddenly there wasn’t room for anything else. Not New York stress. Not distance. Not silence. Just music.

And for the first time in a long time, your spark didn’t feel forced.

By the end of the set, something in you had fully come back online.

The crowd noise blurred together as the final song ended, and for a second you just stood there, breathing hard, letting it all hit you at once. This was it. This was what you had been trying to get back to.

Minghao was the first to reach you.

He pulled you into a hug right there on stage, tight and genuine, the kind that said more than words needed to. “You killed it,” he said, slightly out of breath, smiling wide.

For a moment, everything felt normal. Then you looked up. Past the stage lights. Past the haze. Past the faces in the crowd. And your body went completely still.

Vernon.

He was there.

Real, unmistakable, standing in the crowd like he had been there the whole time you weren’t looking. Your breath caught so hard it hurt, and the sound of everything around you dropped out instantly. Your heart sank so fast it felt like your stomach followed it.

For a split second, you couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe properly. It was like every part of you had been pulled in his direction at once.

Then instinct took over.

You turned and ran off stage.

Minghao noticed immediately, his expression shifting as he called after you, confused and concerned, taking a step forward like he might follow you. But before he could, he saw someone already moving after you from the side of the venue.

He didn’t recognize him. But he recognized the urgency. And something in the way you reacted told him enough.

He slowed. Stopped. Watched instead. Because whatever was happening wasn’t his place to interrupt anymore

You pushed through the doors so fast they banged against the outside wall, the sound echoing into the night. Cold air hit you immediately, sharp against your skin, but you didn’t stop moving. You kept walking forward until you were far enough from the venue that the noise of the crowd dulled into something distant and unreal.

Only then did you stop.

Your chest rose and fell quickly, breath still uneven from running. Streetlights stretched long across the pavement, flickering slightly in the wind, the city feeling too quiet after everything she had just felt on stage.

The anger came fast, sharper than the shock. It filled in the space where confusion had been seconds before. You turned slightly, jaw tight, breathing still unsteady. “Of course,” you muttered under your breath, shaking your head. “Of course you just show up.”

A soft step behind you.

Before you even turned fully, you felt a hand lightly touch your shoulder.

That was all it took.

You spun around immediately and slapped his hand away, the motion more instinct than thought. “Don’t,” you snapped, voice breaking slightly from everything you were holding in. “Don’t touch me.”

Vernon froze, his hand dropping instantly. “Okay—okay, I’m sorry,” he said quickly, stepping back half a pace like he was trying not to overwhelm you.

But you weren't done.

“You don’t get to just show up here,” you said, voice rising. “After months. After nothing. After I sent you that text and you just—nothing. Not even a reply. Not even a ‘I don’t know what to say’.”

Vernon opened his mouth slightly, like he wanted to interrupt, but he didn’t.

You pointed at him now, frustration spilling out faster. “Do you have any idea what that did to me? Do you have any idea what it fucking felt like to finally say something and just get silence back?”

“I know,” he said quickly, voice low. “I know, I’m sorry—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t do that. Don’t just say sorry like it fixes it.”

He stepped forward slightly, then stopped himself, hands half-raised like he didn’t know what to do with them. “Please,” he said quietly. “Just… stop for a second. Please.”

He wasn’t fighting you. He wasn’t defensive. He wasn’t angry at all. He just looked… relieved. Like seeing your face was the only thing keeping him upright.

“I didn’t respond because I couldn’t,” he admitted, voice shaking slightly now. “I read it and I— I didn’t know how to say anything without messing everything up again.”

“That’s not an excuse,” you snapped, but your voice wavered.

“I know,” he said immediately. “I know it’s not. I just—” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, eyes never leaving you. “I came because I couldn’t not see you anymore.”

You scoffed, shaking your head. “So you just show up? After everything? That’s your solution?”

“I didn’t come to fix it,” he said quickly, stepping forward again before stopping himself like he was afraid you'd run again. “I just needed to see you. That’s it.”

Your chest tightened, but you refused to let it show. “You left me in the dark for months, Vernon.”

“I know,” he said again, softer this time. “I know. And it killed me y/n. It absolutely killed me. I didn’t sleep, I missed you by my side. I lost myself completely.”

The way he said it—like he meant it, like it was sitting on top of him just as heavily as it sat on you—made you pause for half a second.

You went quiet. Whatever fragile control he’d been holding onto finally started to crack.

At first it was just his breathing changing—shallow, uneven. Then his face tightened like he was trying to hold something back and failing. His eyes stayed on you for a second longer, like he was trying to memorize you standing there in front of him, whole and real and not a memory on a screen.

“I can’t—” he started, then stopped, shaking his head as his voice collapsed. “I can’t do this without you.”

His hand came up to his face for a second like he was trying to steady himself, but it didn’t help. The tears came fast after that, slipping down his cheeks before he could even turn away from you.

“I’ve lost myself,” he said, voice cracking hard now. “Because I lost you. I wake up and I don’t even feel like I’m inside my own life anymore and I—” He sucked in a shaky breath, trying to continue but failing. “I’m so in love with you it hurts every single day.”

That made your breath catch.

But you still didn’t speak.

His voice dropped lower when he spoke again, softer, almost broken into pieces.

“I tried to move on,” he admitted. “I tried to act like I didn’t feel it. Like it would go away if I ignored it long enough.” He shook his head slightly, a tear falling before he even finished the sentence. “But everything I did just kept leading back to you. Always you.”

His shoulders trembled as he exhaled. “And I was too late when I realized what that meant.”

That landed between you both heavier than anything else.

Your expression shifted slightly, anger finally thinning into something more fragile, more uncertain. Your voice came out quieter than before, careful like you were afraid of what it might unlock.

“Why didn’t you say it before I left for college?”

That question made him stop completely. For a second, he just stared at you like he didn’t deserve to answer it. Then his voice broke again, but this time it was softer, stripped down completely.

“I didn’t know,” he said. “Back then… I didn’t know.”

He swallowed hard, stepping closer without thinking this time. You didn’t move away.

“I know now,” he whispered, like it hurt to say it out loud. “I know now.”

That was when it fully hit him again, and he broke down harder, tears coming faster, his breathing uneven as he tried to keep talking through it. “I know what it is,” he continued, voice shaking. “I know what I’ve been feeling this whole time and I just—” He shook his head, helpless. “I was so stupid. I was so late.”

You could feel your own eyes burning now, the weight of everything finally catching up. Neither of you were really holding it together anymore.

He stepped closer again, slower this time, like he was asking permission without words. You stayed where you were. His hand lifted carefully, hesitating for a second before he gently took yours.

You didn’t pull away. That alone seemed to wreck him even more.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, barely audible now. “I’m sorry I didn’t say it. I’m sorry I made you go through that alone. I’m sorry I lost you.”

There was a pause, shaky and fragile.

Then, through a wet, broken breath, you finally spoke again—half laugh, half disbelief, voice still trembling.

“You’re an idiot.”

He let out something that almost sounded like a laugh through tears, but he didn’t let go of your hand. If anything, he held it tighter.

“I know,” he whispered.

Your eyes dropped for a second, and when you looked back up at him, something in you finally cracked open fully.

“Did you think I wouldn’t feel the same way?” You say softly, bodies now closer than before. That made him freeze. A smile started to form on his face through tears. Then, quieter, almost scared to ruin the moment, you asked, “How did you even get here?”

He blinked at you, still holding your hand like it was the only real thing in the world. “Don’t worry about it,” he said softly, a hint of shaky humor in his voice. “I just needed to see you.”

A pause.

His gaze dropped to your lips for half a second, then back to your eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked again, quieter this time, like everything else had already been answered.

You didn’t even answer him. Not with words, not with hesitation, not with anything you could overthink later.

You just pulled him in.

The space between you disappeared in a single movement, your hand still half-trembling as it grabbed his shirt and brought him to you. His breath caught sharply like he hadn’t fully believed this was going to happen, like some part of him was still bracing for you to change your mind.

But then your lips met his.

And everything went still for a fraction of a second—like the world itself paused just to register it.

Then he kissed you back.

Immediately. Instinctively. Like something inside him had been waiting for this exact moment for months and finally stopped holding back. His hand dropped yours without hesitation, but only so he could pull you closer instead, arms sliding around your waist and locking you against him like he was terrified you might slip away if he didn’t hold on hard enough.

The kiss deepened in a way that wasn’t rushed, but desperate—years of unspoken things collapsing into one moment that finally made sense of everything else.

You moved like you already knew him again, like your body remembered what your mind had been trying to survive without. One hand slid up to his neck, fingers curling there as if anchoring yourself to him, the other moving into the back of his hair, tugging slightly as if to make sure he was real.

He let out a quiet, broken sound against your lips—half relief, half disbelief—but didn’t pull away. If anything, he held you tighter, like the idea of distance now was unbearable.

When you finally part, he laughs quietly to himself. 

“You really are so beautiful, you know?” he says quietly, like it wasn’t a compliment he was trying to give, but something he had been holding in for a very long time.

You pulled him straight into a hug, tight and immediate, like your body made the decision before your mind could interfere. Your arms wrapped around him with everything you had left in you, and the second you felt him properly—his warmth, the familiar weight of him, the scent of his cologne that hadn’t changed since high school—it was like something inside you finally stopped resisting.

He held you back just as tightly, almost desperately, like if he loosened even slightly you might disappear again. His hand moved up your back slowly, grounding you, while the other stayed firm at your waist.

Eventually, without breaking the hold between you, he murmured, “Can we… go somewhere? Somewhere quieter?”

You nodded immediately.

Your room wasn’t far.

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The walk back felt unreal in the best way, like the city around you was moving normally but you weren’t part of it anymore. His hand stayed in yours the entire time, fingers occasionally tightening like he was reminding himself you were still there.

When you got inside, the door barely closed before everything softened again. The tension that had been sitting between you for months, even years, didn’t vanish—but it shifted into something warmer, something easier to hold.

You didn’t even really sit properly before he was pulling you toward your bed, like it was instinct. And once you were there, everything slowed down in the most natural way.

He laid down first, and you immediately curled into him like you’d done it a thousand times before. It felt wrong in how right it was. His arm slid around you instantly, pulling you close against his chest, and you let out a quiet breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

For a while, you just talked.

Not about everything heavy all at once, but pieces of it. Small updates. Random memories. Things you missed. Things you didn’t even know mattered until now. He told you about sleepless nights and half-written messages he never sent. You told him about New York, the band, the nights you didn’t understand what you were feeling.

Sometimes one of you would pause mid-sentence just to look at the other like you couldn’t believe this was real.

And then it would turn into something lighter again.

A little teasing. A little arguing over stupid things. Him stealing your blanket. You pushing him off and immediately pulling him back. Him pretending to be offended before laughing and pulling you closer again.

One moment you were trying to push him off your side of the bed, and the next he’d caught your wrist gently, not to stop you, just to hold you there. His laughter faded first—not abruptly, just slowly, like something in him shifted mid-breath.

You noticed it immediately.

His eyes dropped to your mouth for a second too long. Then he leaned in.

It wasn’t hesitant. Not really. It felt like something he had been holding back for so long that the decision didn’t even look like a decision anymore.

His lips met yours again, slower this time, warmer, deeper in a way that made your teasing thoughts dissolve almost instantly. When he pulled back just slightly, barely enough to speak, his forehead stayed close to yours.

“I’ve wanted to do that for months,” he admitted quietly, like it had been sitting in his chest too heavy to keep pretending otherwise.

That made something in you spark again—familiar, teasing, just enough to try and regain control of the moment.

“Oh wow,” you started, breath still uneven, a small smile tugging at your lips. “So what, you’ve just been suffering in silence—”

You didn’t even get to finish.

His hand slid to your waist, and he kissed you again.

The kiss deepened with every second, less about hesitation and more about everything you both hadn’t said finally spilling out without words. Months of distance, silence, confusion—it all collapsed into something immediate and overwhelming. Every time you tried to pull back just slightly for air, he followed you like it wasn’t even a thought, like stopping felt wrong now that he finally had you here.

And in between it all, when there was just barely enough space for words, he murmured against you, almost like he couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t tease me right now,” he said quietly, breath uneven.

That only made it worse.

You gave a soft laugh against his lips, but it faded quickly as he kissed you again, slower this time, pulling you back in like he was learning you all over again but refusing to stop.

You move your hands from around his neck to the bottom of his black t-shirt playing with the hem as he kisses from your lips, down your neck. A gasp leaves your mouth without even realizing as you feel a smirk form on Vernon’s lips.

You tug at the hem to then slightly lift it up so he gets the hint. He leans up grabbing the part of the shirt you just had your hands on to lift it over his head, throwing it on the floor in the process. 

You grab the bottom of your own shirt, doing the same motion throwing it on the floor right next to his. 

Vernon’s eyes stayed on you for a second longer than usual. not in a way that felt objectifying, but like he was genuinely taking you in—like he was trying to memorize you all over again in real time, now that everything was finally out in the open.

“You’re kind of unfair,” he said quietly, a small breath of a laugh in his voice.

You raised an eyebrow, still slightly breathless. “Me?”

He nodded once, stepping a little closer again. “Yeah. You do that thing where you act like you’re not affecting me.”

That made you laugh under your breath, shaking your head. “I’m not doing anything.”

He tilted his head slightly, like he didn’t believe you for a second. “Exactly.”

That got you to smile properly this time.

“Fuck you are so beautiful.” He says quieter in a low tone. The space between you disappeared again without either of you really deciding it. It just happened naturally, like gravity had reset itself. 

Your fingers curled into his shoulders as you pulled him closer, and he responded immediately, like he’d been waiting for that exact signal. When you broke apart, just slightly, he rested his forehead against yours again, breathing uneven but calmer now.

“I don’t think I’m leaving again,” he murmured.

You let out a small laugh, softer this time. “Good.”

“Besides, I kinda like New York.” He laughs mid sentence.

“Oh yeah?” You laugh back at the brown haired boy above you.

"It wouldn't be too awful to transfer to a nearby school… huh?” He jokes, but with a deadpan certainty that shows he definitely is not joking.

“I don’t see a problem with that.” You joke back.

He kissed you again, it felt less like chaos and more like certainty—like everything messy and painful and distant had finally folded into something that made sense.

And for the first time in a very long time, neither of you felt like you were missing anything.

You had each other, and you both finally realized, that's all you need.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈••┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

[leigh-darling]

Ohhhh this, this hits different. I'm not usually an angst girly, but when it's like this, exceptions are made.

The longing, the struggle, the shifting emotions, they just hit right in this fic. So very, very well done.

[scoupsakakitty]

Symptoms Include: You | idol!Jeonghan x doctor!Reader | fluff angst

tw injury, blood mention, stitches, hospital

Y/N had been working at the military clinic for almost three months when she came to one very specific conclusion:

Yoon Jeonghan was a menace.

Not because he was rude. Not because he was difficult. In fact, he was probably one of the easiest patients she had ever dealt with. He always greeted the staff politely, never complained during examinations, and somehow managed to charm every nurse he met within five minutes.

The problem was that he appeared far too often for someone who was supposedly healthy.

At first she hadn't thought much of it. Military training naturally came with injuries. A twisted ankle during an obstacle course wasn't unusual. Neither were sore muscles or minor headaches. But after his fourth visit in less than two weeks, she started noticing a pattern.

Especially when every examination ended exactly the same way.

Normal.

Completely normal.

Which was why she wasn't even surprised when a familiar knock sounded against her office door one Tuesday afternoon.

"Come in."

The door opened.

And there he was.

Again.

Y/N slowly lowered the chart she had been reading.

Jeonghan smiled.

She immediately sighed.

"What's wrong this time?"

"That hurts my feelings."

"Good. Maybe they'll stop bringing you here."

He placed a hand over his chest dramatically.

"I come here because I trust you."

"No, you come here because you enjoy annoying me."

"I would never."

Y/N pointed toward the chair.

"Sit."

He sat.

She opened his file.

Immediately regretted it.

The document was becoming absurdly long.

Ankle pain.

Shoulder pain.

Headaches.

Neck pain.

Fatigue.

Stomach pain.

More stomach pain.

Even more stomach pain.

At this point she was surprised the military hadn't started charging him rent for using the clinic so often.

"What is it?"

"My stomach."

She closed her eyes.

Of course.

"Again?"

"Again."

"Jeonghan."

"Doctor."

"Your stomach has been hurting for three weeks."

"It misses you."

The room fell silent.

Y/N slowly looked up.

Jeonghan looked pleased with himself.

"Did you really just say that?"

"No."

"You did."

"No evidence."

She rubbed her temples.

Sometimes she genuinely wondered how he had survived military training.

The examination took less than ten minutes. As expected, everything was perfectly normal. Blood pressure. Temperature. Pulse. Every result looked exactly the same as the last six times he'd shown up.

Y/N leaned back in her chair.

"You're healthy."

"I don't feel healthy."

"You ran five kilometers this morning."

"Maybe that's why."

"That's not why."

"How do you know?"

"I'm a doctor."

"You seem very confident."

Y/N stared at him for a moment before a realization finally clicked into place.

The symptoms.

The timing.

The visits.

The suspiciously convenient excuses.

Everything suddenly made sense.

A smile slowly spread across her face.

Jeonghan immediately became suspicious.

That wasn't a good sign.

"What?" he asked.

"Hm."

"What?"

"Hm."

"Why are you smiling?"

Y/N folded her arms.

"I don't think this is actually a medical problem."

Jeonghan raised an eyebrow.

"Oh?"

"No."

"Then what's wrong with me?"

She pretended to think about it.

"Hm. Based on my professional opinion, I think this case might be outside my area of expertise."

His expression remained perfectly calm.

"What does that mean?"

"I think you need a psychologist."

The silence that followed was beautiful.

Absolutely beautiful.

Jeonghan blinked.

Once.

Twice.

Then pointed at himself.

"A psychologist?"

"Yes."

"I'm injured."

"No."

"My stomach hurts."

"No."

"It does."

"No."

Y/N reached for his file and tapped it with her pen.

"You've visited me seven times this month."

"I get sick often."

"You don't."

"How would you know?"

"Because I've examined you seven times this month."

For the first time since she'd met him, he didn't immediately have a response.

Victory.

Finally.

Y/N almost laughed.

Almost.

Instead she continued speaking.

"The symptoms only seem to appear when you're scheduled to see me."

"Coincidence."

"Sure."

"It is."

"Definitely."

Jeonghan narrowed his eyes.

Y/N smiled sweetly.

The battle continued for several seconds.

Eventually he sighed.

"You know, doctors aren't supposed to bully patients."

"And patients aren't supposed to invent illnesses."

"Allegedly."

"Jeonghan."

"Doctor."

"You are impossible."

A grin spread across his face.

"There she is."

"There who is?"

"The doctor who likes arguing with me."

Y/N rolled her eyes so hard it physically hurt.

The worst part was that he wasn't entirely wrong.

Somewhere between the fake stomach aches and the endless teasing, these appointments had become something she secretly expected.

Which was unfortunate.

Because she absolutely should not be looking forward to seeing one of her patients.

Especially this patient.

She closed his file and stood.

"Appointment over."

"Already?"

"You're healthy."

"That's disappointing."

"No, it's good."

"For you maybe."

Y/N walked toward the door and held it open.

Jeonghan remained seated.

"Are you leaving?"

"Eventually."

"Now."

He stood slowly, still smiling.

When he reached the doorway, he suddenly stopped.

For a brief moment, the teasing disappeared.

The joking disappeared.

And he simply looked at her.

"See you next week?"

Y/N folded her arms.

"Hopefully not."

Jeonghan laughed.

But as he walked away, neither of them mentioned the fact that they both knew he'd be back.

One way or another.

The next time Jeonghan showed up at the clinic, Y/N was already having a terrible day.

Three soldiers were waiting outside her office. Someone had fainted during training that morning. Another had managed to sprain both ankles in a way she still couldn't fully understand. Her coffee had gone cold hours ago, and she'd barely had time to sit down between patients.

So when the door suddenly opened without warning, she didn't even bother looking up.

"What is it this time?" she asked while signing paperwork. "Your stomach? Your shoulder? A mysterious disease that only appears once a week?"

No answer came.

Y/N frowned.

Usually Jeonghan would've responded immediately.

Probably with something annoying.

Still not looking up, she continued writing.

"Unless you're actively dying, you can wait five min—"

The sentence died in her throat.

Because when she finally looked up, Jeonghan wasn't smiling.

Two other soldiers were helping him stand.

His uniform was dirty. There was blood on his sleeve. One side of his face was pale, and he was holding his ribs tightly as if letting go would make them fall apart.

Y/N was out of her chair instantly.

"What happened?"

"Training course," one of the soldiers answered. "He slipped during climbing practice."

Jeonghan attempted a grin.

It looked painful.

"Hey, Doctor."

"Sit down."

The words came out much sharper than intended.

For once, he didn't argue.

As soon as he sat down, Y/N began examining him. Her hands moved automatically, years of training taking over. She checked his pupils, looked for signs of concussion, carefully inspected the cuts on his arm, and then moved toward his ribs.

The moment her fingers touched his side, Jeonghan sucked in a sharp breath.

Her stomach dropped.

That wasn't fake.

Not even slightly.

"How far did you fall?"

"Not that far."

The other soldier snorted.

"He fell almost three meters."

Y/N slowly turned toward him.

"Three meters?"

Jeonghan immediately pointed at his friend.

"Traitor."

"You screamed."

"I did not."

"You absolutely did."

Y/N ignored both of them.

The bruising was already beginning to form beneath his uniform. Thankfully, nothing felt broken, but the impact had clearly been hard enough to leave him with a serious rib contusion. The cut along his arm wasn't deep, but it would need stitches.

By the time she finished examining him, her earlier annoyance had completely disappeared.

Now she was just worried.

Which somehow annoyed her even more.

The two soldiers eventually left, leaving the room unusually quiet.

Y/N prepared the equipment needed for the stitches.

Jeonghan watched her from the examination table.

For once, he wasn't talking.

For once, he wasn't trying to be funny.

And somehow that bothered her.

"Does it hurt?" she finally asked.

His eyebrows lifted slightly.

"Concerned, Doctor?"

"Answer the question."

"A little."

She gave him a look.

He sighed.

"A lot."

"Good."

His mouth fell open.

"Good?"

"Maybe next time you'll stop treating military training like a vacation."

"I was climbing."

"You were showing off."

"I was not."

"You absolutely were."

A small smile appeared on his face.

There he was.

The Jeonghan she knew.

Unfortunately.

Y/N carefully cleaned the cut before beginning the stitches. Jeonghan remained surprisingly quiet throughout the process, though every now and then she noticed him watching her.

Not glancing.

Watching.

It was distracting.

"Stop staring."

"I'm not staring."

"You are."

"I'm appreciating your professionalism."

"Jeonghan."

"I'm serious."

"You literally fell off a wall."

"That doesn't mean I can't multitask."

Y/N shook her head.

Unbelievable.

Several minutes later she finished the final stitch and stepped back.

"There."

Jeonghan looked down.

"That's it?"

"That's it."

"No lollipop?"

"This isn't kindergarten."

His disappointment looked entirely genuine.

Y/N couldn't help laughing.

The sound surprised both of them.

For a brief moment neither spoke.

Then the room became quiet again.

Different this time.

Softer.

Jeonghan was the first to break the silence.

"You know..."

Y/N continued writing notes in his file.

"Hm?"

"I think this is the first time you've actually believed I was injured."

"Because this is the first time you actually were injured."

"Fair."

She finished her notes and closed the file.

"You're restricted from intense physical activity for a while."

"That's tragic."

"You'll survive."

"I almost didn't."

"You bruised your ribs."

"I suffered."

"You complained."

"Same thing."

Y/N rolled her eyes.

But when she looked up, she caught him smiling.

Not his usual mischievous smile.

Something smaller.

Something more nervous.

Which immediately made her suspicious.

"What?"

Jeonghan rubbed the back of his neck.

The gesture looked strangely awkward coming from someone who usually had endless confidence.

"What?"

He looked away briefly before meeting her eyes again.

"You know I'm getting discharged soon."

Y/N nodded.

She knew.

Everyone knew.

His military service was almost over.

For some reason, she suddenly didn't like thinking about that.

"Congratulations."

"Thanks."

A short silence followed.

Then another.

And another.

Until finally Jeonghan spoke.

"I was thinking."

"Dangerous."

"Very."

Y/N smiled despite herself.

Jeonghan took a breath.

Then another.

Which was odd.

Yoon Jeonghan never seemed nervous.

Yet somehow he did now.

"When my military service is over..."

Y/N waited.

"...would you go on a date with me?"

The room became completely silent.

For a second, Y/N genuinely thought she'd imagined it.

Then she looked at him.

He was still smiling.

Though this time it looked far less confident than usual.

Almost vulnerable.

"You're asking me out while injured?"

"I figured if you said no, I'd already be in pain."

Y/N stared at him.

Then laughed.

Actually laughed.

Jeonghan immediately looked offended.

"That's not a good sign."

"No, it's just..."

She shook her head.

"Only you would choose this moment."

"So is that a yes?"

Y/N looked at him for a long moment.

At the bruises.

The bandages.

The stitches she had just finished.

At the man who had spent months inventing reasons to visit her.

The answer had probably been obvious for a while now.

She sighed.

"Took you long enough."

For the first time since she'd met him, Jeonghan looked completely speechless.

And somehow that was even more satisfying than diagnosing his fake stomach aches.

[yoonia]

The Stand-In | Index

✎ The Stand-In

⟶ Character | Namjoon x reader

⟶ Genre | Friends to Lovers!au, Failed Marriage!au, Post Divorce!au, Smut, Angst

⟶ Summary | Gaining the courage to leave a loveless marriage was hard enough, but is it really a good idea to run to your best friend for help? And would you refuse him when he offers you another kind of ‘help’ when you need it?

⟶ Read Here

✎ Drabbles:

⇢ #1 Midnight video calls ⇢ #2 Surprise! ⇢ #2.1 Delicate Blooms ⇢ #3 Clingy Much? ⇢ #4 Broken baby ⇢ #5 This is getting ridiculous ⇢ #6 How are you real?  ⇢ #7 Yes, Daddy!

✎ Bonus stories:

⇢ What We Don’t Say At Dinner

✎ Special Contents: 

⇢ Visual concepts: Moodboard 1 | Moodboard 2

⇢ Fic commentaries (coming soon)

✎ Cross-post

AO3 | Inkitt

2024 Revamped version on Wattpad

— © Yoonia, all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind is not allowed. unsolicited translations are not allowed. First published in 2019 & 2021. Re-edited and re-published in 2024.

[leigh-darling]

This was so real, so well written, I loved it. This is a work to be proud of

[catchymemes]

[wnjunhui]

🚨 WEN JUNHUI IS BLOND!!!! I REPEAT, WEN JUNHUI IS BLOND 🚨

[epelletart]

okay so, lots of ppl are wondering what they cosplayed as during their monthly meeting (11th anniversary):

Joshua - Kang Dongwon (The Priests)

Mingyu - Sonny Hayes (F1: The Movie)

Seungkwan - Syaoran (Cardcaptor Sakura)

DK - Newt Scamander

Dino - Michael Jackson

Seungcheol - Winter Soldier

Minghao - Zorro

Jun - Howl (Howl's Moving Castle)

Vernon - Jack Frost

[wheeboo]

anonymously yours | wen junhui

SYNOPSIS. When the world falls asleep, a certain radio broadcast goes live—one hosted by none other than you and your best friend Wen Junhui. The two of you host an anonymous love confession segment, where listeners submit their deepest feelings, secrets, and late-night loves they can’t say aloud for you to unravel live on air. However, when a recurring submission starts to feel too familiar, a certain someone finds themselves wondering how long they can stay anonymous… before they are finally heard. PAIRING. radio host!wen junhui x radio host!fem!reader (ft. soonyoung as a comedic device) GENRE. fluff, best friends to lovers, crack/humour, comfort, slight angst, smut (minors dni 🔞) WARNINGS. cursing, mentions of toxic situations in relationships (situationships, cheating, love bombing), yn and jun are dumb asffff no wonder they're besties, jun feeling a lil insecure :(, lots of playful bickering and bullying, terms of endearment, kissing, grinding, fingering, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, they bully each other even while doing the deed 😭 WORD COUNT. 11.3k

notes: hellooo everyoneee, this is my fic for the @studiosvt First Time Caller collab! please don't forget to support all the amazing authors in the collab!! unfort this was so rushed and lowkey not proud of it SDFDS i completely forgot how to write while writing this since it was all during the stress of finals szn and other matters LMAO, but i love writing abt two stupid oblivious idiot besties who are secretly in love with each other 😔 not rlly proofread so i'm sorry for any mistakes !! there is also a skye @etherealyoungk cameo in here hehe

“No, no, no𑁋Wen Junhui, you’re being way too nice about this!” You exclaim mid-laugh, shaking your head as you lean in towards the mic. “If someone’s been stringing you along for six months with nothing but ‘I’m not ready for a relationship yet’ texts, then that’s just straight up terrorism. Not even a situationship, at this point.”

Jun lets out a laugh of his own and throws his head back, almost making his headphones nearly fall off his head. He readjusts quickly, dark hair messily falling over his forehead. The neon red of the bright ON LIVE sign on the wall behind his head casts an almost villain-like glow across his features, sharpening the curve of his already amused smile. 

“Terrorism? Wow, tell us how you really feel, Y/N,” Jun retorts playfully. “But fine. Anon, if they’ve been feeding you breadcrumbs for half a year, that’s basically emotional warfare. Please save yourself and block them on everything𑁋and yes, that includes on Spotify.”

You snort at that, tapping your pen against your script notes that you’ve been barely following anyway. The show had practically devolved from advice to whatever banter you and Jun had cooked up on the spot. “Exactly. Listeners, if your situationship has an expiration date longer than expired milk, it’s time to toss it. Jun is too sweet to say it, so I’ll do it. Run.” 

“I𑁋’too sweet’?!” A dramatic gasp tumbles out of Jun as he spins his chair toward you. “I was the one who told last week’s caller to roast her boyfriend’s dick like a marshmallow because he kept forgetting her birthday!” 

“But you said it with, like, the sweetest voice ever!”

“That man deserved to get emotionally blue-balled! How can you forget your girlfriend’s own birthday for a second year in a row?” 

You roll your eyes so hard it’s basically audible over the mic. “God, Junhui, you have the emotional range of a raccoon.” 

“I’ll take it.” Jun grins at that, thrusting his shoulders back as if he’s trying to appear bigger and more intimidating. “At least raccoons are cute, right?” 

On your laptop, the chat is going crazy.

user: here we go again with their flirty banter 🙄 user: JUST GET MARRIED ALREADY YOU TWO!!!!!!!!! user: i swear this radio show is hosted by 2 delusional idiots user: i think they should kiss idk

“No, we shouldn’t!” You exclaim at the chat like you’re scolding a bunch of twelve-year olds. 

Jun nearly hops out of his seat. “Wait, I agree!” 

“Wen Junhui!”

“What? I was agreeing with you!” 

“That was not you agreeing with me,” You groan. “You agreed to kissing me.” 

“Well, the chat started it, so don’t put all the blame on me,” Jun says with a pout, folding his arms together. “Plus, it would be good for research purposes, wouldn’t it?” 

Your eyes bulge out of your skull, your mind and face flaming up. “You’re such a𑁋we host a radio show, not a damn lab!”

“Chemistry is still relevant! And chemistry is needed for relationships!” 

“We are not in a relationship, oh my, God.”

“Hypothetically, Y/N. Think hypotheticals.” Jun clicks his tongue, letting out playful tsk-tsk-tsk. “I’m telling you our ratings would absolutely skyrocket.”

You fight back the smile threatening to split your face in half, but there’s no point in trying to battle it. After being best friends with Jun for most of your life and witnessing pretty much all the stupid shit he has ever said or done, you’ve long accepted that his brand of chaos is the only thing in this world that can make your chest too tight and too warm at the same time. Especially if it involves the playful flirting you’ve been bouncing on for years. 

“Whatever, to answer your question𑁋raccoons are cute, but they’re also known for making stupid life decisions,” You point out with a victorious smirk. “So, maybe not the best comparison to make. It’s accurate, regardless.”

“Harsh,” he whines, but his eyes𑁋those stupid, unfairly expressive eyes of his𑁋sparkle with teasing delight. “Alright, onto the final submission of the night. Anonymous says…”

Dear Y/N and Jun of Love On Air, I’ve been supporting the show since the very beginning, and now, I think I’m in trouble enough to make a submission.  I’m in love with my best friend. I have been for years and it struck me pretty hard this morning. Is it weird to say when I first met them it felt like love at first sight? We talk every day to the point that everyone assumes we’re together, but we’re not. They’re kind, funny, and sometimes I think they deserve someone better than me. But is it selfish of me to say that I want to keep them in my life forever? Even if that line isn’t crossed?  What should I do??? 🐱

The studio falls silent for a few moments after Jun finishes reading. The shift in the air is immediately noticeable, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. When Jun picks his head back up to look at you after reading the confession, his usual smirk is still in place, but fades just a tad when he catches the contemplative expression on your face.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N?”

“Huh?” You blink back up at him. “Oh, shit. Right, uh…”

You can’t tell if it’s the late night hour getting to you or something else entirely. You’ve received so many similar confessions before𑁋a best friend falling in love with their other half, the slow and torturous ache of unspoken feelings, the fear of messing up something that’s already so beautiful itself. And ultimately, your advice has always stayed the same.

But when you meet eyes with Jun, it’s as if the words have completely cut your tongue off. You finally clear your throat. 

“First of all, welcome cat anon to the club of people who are all vicariously and collectively screwed together,” You say, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “And I wish we hadn’t read yours at the very last minute since we’re about in end in five𑁋”

Jun lifts a brow. “Wait, we have about fifteen𑁋”

“𑁋but I’ll just say that you aren’t selfish for wanting to keep them in your life. But you are doing a disservice keeping it locked away forever. This kind of love doesn’t come around twice. So tell them, even if it scares you. What’s the worst that could happen, you know?” 

You can feel Jun’s heavy gaze linger on the side of your face.

“Exactly, anon,” he jumps in like the professional he is. “Ripping the band-aid off would only hurt temporarily, right? And if it doesn’t work out, we’ll be here next week with some ice cream recommendations to help you cope.” 

“Keep in mind what Jun said, guys,” You say, forcing a small laugh. “Thank you all for turning into Love On Air. Stay honest, stay unhinged, and send that one person a risky text. If you want to submit a confession, please send one to our email. We are live every Saturday on FM 98.7! Goodnight, everyone!” 

You kill your microphone first as the ON LIVE sign on the wall blinks out with a soft click. Jun switches off his microphone right after, and the silence that washes over the studio is louder than anything else. 

For a moment, neither of you moves.

You still feel the ghost of Jun’s gaze warm on your cheek from when you were giving advice just a minute ago. It’s silly, really𑁋how one singular anonymous confession is enough to make you think and contemplate so hard. You’ve given advice to more people than you can count on your hands and toes, but this specific one feels as if it grew limbs, crawled out of the screen, and sat itself between you and him. 

“You rushed that ending,” Jun interrupts your thoughts as he swings his coat over his shoulders. 

You scoff lightly. “I did not.”

“Did too.”

“I literally answered the question,” You shoot back, narrowing your eyes at him. “That’s our job.”

“Exactly,” he hums in response, leaning his elbow on the desk and resting his chin lazily in his palm. “You answered it like it was your first time ever hearing it.” 

A pause.

“When it’s not.”

It’s not. But why𑁋out of all goddamn times you’ve read the same exact fear𑁋did this one feel like someone jabbed a finger at your chest and said: here, this is yours? 

You force a laugh at that, letting out a deprecating shrug. “Maybe I’m just getting sentimental at my big age.” 

“You’re literally younger than me.”

“Only by a few months. Your argument is irrelevant, grandpa.”

Jun tilts his head at your words, pushing himself off the table and invading your personal space as always. He stands only a step away from you, observing the way you’re speedily packing your belongings like some kind of punishment. When you face back up at him, he gives a light flick to your forehead. His touch lingers for a few seconds, before he brushes a stray strand of hair behind your ear. It’s playful and casual, but the way your skin tingles after isn’t. 

Your heart does a stupid little flip in your chest. 

“Come on, youngling, I’ll drive you home,” he says with a cheesy smile, dangling his car keys off his finger. 

A groan leaves you as you allow him to drag you by the wrist and out of the studio. 

To be honest, the radio show started off as one big fat joke. 

It started in sophomore year of college, where you and Jun were nothing but a pair of dumb, broke college kids. Then you both decided to sign a quick gig for the campus radio station because you thought it would look good on your resumes. The two of you were supposed to do the boring music hour𑁋basically play whatever indie crap the station manager liked and read weather updates every morning. 

But that didn’t exactly go as planned, as the majority of those sessions were spent with you both roasting each other’s music tastes live on air, and for some reason, the listeners seemed to eat that dynamic up. 

In one particular session, Jun opened up the radio station email box live on air. You both expected for another complaint, which wasn’t uncommon knowing how immature the two of you act sometimes. However, it wasn’t a complaint this time.

It was a confession.

A girl had written about how she’d been in love with her roommate for the past two years and didn’t know how to voice it without ruining their lease together. Jun read it when his microphone was supposed to be switched off, and something in the studio shifted that night. 

“Do… we answer it?” Jun had asked you warily. 

You had hesitated for once, before a sudden surge of determination filled you. Perhaps it’s the delirium of two idiots who believed they could wing it, or the thought that a random person decided to reach out to both of you𑁋out of anyone else𑁋was the reason for the determination. Either way, you looked across at Jun that night and said, “Yeah. Let’s answer it.” 

And that was that. 

The rest of the semester became an absolute rollercoaster of love confessions, messy breakups, love bombers, situationships that made you want to pull your hair out, and the two of you slowly carving a name for yourselves as the unfiltered chaotic duo who gave sarcastic advice that came straight from the heart. The campus station extended their time slot, then the local radio station in the city picked the two of you up. 

Somewhere along the way, and four years later, Love On Air stopped being a joke and became a real thing you and Jun committed together every Saturday at midnight𑁋your own little pocket of chaos in an otherwise normal adult life. For the most part, at least, because pining for your best friend is totally counted as normal. 

Wen Junhui came into your life like a stray cat who decided that your doorstep looked comfortable enough to stay forever. Uninvited and unpredictable, way too pretty for his own good, yet somehow always exactly where you needed him to be. He randomly plopped down right next to you during freshman orientation, snatched the last macaron on your plate, and gave you a look that said you’d be fun to annoy for the next four years before introducing his name. 

You’d never admit how absolutely starstruck you were the first time he smiled at you. Or laughed. You told yourself you were just sleep deprived and lonely being in the city all by yourself, but deep down, the voice in your head at that moment said that you wanted to keep him. 

You should have been annoyed. But instead you laughed and nearly choked on your water, and that was it. Game over. And you became each other’s favourite person without either of you having to put a label on it. Best friend felt too small, and soulmate felt too big and scary for two broke college kids who couldn’t dedicate themselves to a single major. 

So you just… existed together. Thrived together. Grew together through the most stupidest decisions known to mankind. 

And at some point down the road, that stray cat curled up into your chest and refused to leave.

“Listeners, let’s give a full round of applause to user derangedcarat for cutting off their cheating ex-partner,” You announce into the microphone, clapping your hands like a proud mom at a recital. The chat explodes immediately. 

user: 👏👏👏👏 user: FINALLY i’m so proud of u user derangedcarat queen user: anyone who cheats on their partner needs to be put on death row user: ^^^ preach!!!

“And you did the hard part, user derangedcarat,” Jun adds in. “We love growth in this household. Maybe email us a screenshot of the block so we can frame it in the studio here.” 

“Exactly, and please don’t forget to take care of yourself,” You reassure into the microphone. “Block, delete, go touch some grass if you need to. You deserve someone who actually respects you.”

The next confessions run by in a blur over the next hour. Someone sends in a confession asking if it’s weird to still be hung on their high school ex, another person confesses that they’ve been naming their house plants after people who ghosted them, which the two of you undoubtedly praise for creativity. 

To top off the chaos, there’s one submission an anonymous user submits with screenshots of cringe-worthy flirty text messages from a man they’re talking to, with the sender begging for the two of you to rate the messages on a scale of “smooth operator” to “immediate block”.

Jun narrows his eyes toward the screen. “Y/N, listen to this: ‘hey babygirl, how’s your night been? mine was spent thinking about u 😏’. Sent at 2:19 in the morning, left on read for three days.” 

You burst out laughing, cheeks puffing out to the point it hurts. “Oh, my God. Solid negative five. That’s a biohazard right there.”

“That’s way too generous,” Jun snorts while spinning in his chair. “Anon, this man is serving nothing but expired milk. Please save yourself a headache and block his number.” 

Heartbreak, confessions, and ridiculous stories𑁋you and Jun tag-team them over the next hour like strong duo you are, with the chatting eating up every particularly brutal line that leaves either of your mouths. This is what seems to happen when you give two nocturnal people a cup of bitter tar coffee and the free will to say whatever they please. 

By the time the final minutes of the session comes, you and Jun decide to read out one last confession. 

“...Cat anon is back with a follow-up confession.”

You perk up curiously at that. “Really? What does it say?” 

Jun hesitates briefly, before clearing his throat. 

Dear Y/N and Jun of Love On Air, Hi, it’s me again. The one who wrote the other week. Thank you both so much for responding to me. I listened to every word you guys said, and I think you’re right. I was almost brave the other night𑁋had this whole stupid mental speech planned to tell them when we were hanging out together. But I… chickened out. Again. Really dumb of me, I know.  And I know that I look like a coward who needs a weekly pep talk, but this show feels like the only safe space I’m able to confess this. I do have a question for the two of you to answer and discuss. Do you think there’s such a thing as ‘perfect love’?  I think that’s my dilemma right now. I want to be perfect for them. I want to give them that perfect love that they deserve. But how can I do that, knowing who I am? 🐱

The studio falls into a gentle kind of quiet after Jun finishes reading. The words are still processing deeply through your mind when he warily lifts his eyes back up at you, lingering on your concentrated expression. Then his heart stutters in his chest when you meet his eyes as if he got caught doing something wrong. 

“Jun, why don’t you answer it first?” 

Jun blinks, before shaking his head like he’s trying to clear away fog. He leans back in his chair and stretches his long arms up with a thoughtful sigh, enough for his hoodie to ride up just slightly for you to catch a sliver of skin. You try (and fail) not to notice, muting your microphone briefly to let out a cough into your hand. 

“I mean, ‘perfect’ love is that type of stuff you read about in books or watch in movies, right?” He shrugs, letting his arms fall back down as his chair creaks softly beneath him. “Like no miscommunication, no timing issues, no one being stupid… which already disqualifies most of humanity, honestly.” 

You lean back in to unmute your microphone. “Are you saying you’re part of that disqualification?” 

“Absolutely, I’m the poster child for it,” he claims with that mischievous glint in his eyes. “I constantly forget shit, I’m nocturnal as hell, and sometimes I make objectively terrible decisions. Who would want to date me?” 

The question lands a little too easily, maybe even familiar, sending an uncomfortable ripple you feel all the way down to your toes. Something about the way it left his mouth without any hesitation sends a painful grip to your heartstrings. Jun has always had this kind of self-deprecating humour, tossing it out like it was nothing at times. It makes you want to one: shake reality into him, or two: kiss him to prove him wrong. 

You force out an awkward laugh, higher than it needs to be. 

“Someone with terrible taste, clearly,” You answer, keeping your voice teasing despite the heaviness in your chest. “But luckily for you, the world is full of people with terrible taste.”

Jun chuckles, spinning his chair so he could study you properly. 

“Yeah?” He tilts his head. “You think so?”

The chat is moving so fast now it’s basically a complete blur.

user: bro really asked who would date him while staring at his wife user: why is he so boyfriend coded still tho user: y/n should answer the question too!!! user: PERFECT LOVE IS WHEN YOU LOOK AT EACH OTHER STOPPP RNN

“Chat is right,” Jun quips. “What’s your answer to the question too, Y/N?”

The second the question leaves him, you can feel every pair of invisible eyes staring at you through the screen and your pulse kicking up loudly in your ears. Jun is still leaning back in his chair, relaxed as ever, his curious gaze fixed solely on you. 

Finally, you clear your throat.

“Well, I’ve seen couples break up because their relationship isn’t ‘perfect’,” You begin. “But the ones that last? They’re the ones where both sides are a little flawed, a little messy, and a little scared, but they choose each other anyway. That’s what you would call an imperfect love, and… I think that’s the most beautiful kind of love that can exist.” 

Suddenly, the tiny studio feels almost suffocating to sit in. Your eyes flick up to Jun. He isn’t laughing anymore, or even smiling. He’s just staring at you with an expression so open𑁋almost surprised, like he didn’t expect you to be so serious𑁋it steals the rest of your answer out of your throat. 

You refuse to look at the chat; you already know what they’re saying.

“You really thought about it a lot, huh?” Jun asks, scratching at the back of his neck. 

You could only manage a small, somewhat self-conscious nod, bringing your eyes down to the ground. “Yeah. Guess I have.” 

A wave of silence washes over the studio for a minute.

“...it’s a really good answer,” he murmurs.

A pleased smile crosses over your face. “Well, I am kinda a professional at this.”

“Mm,” he hums absentmindedly in response. 

You pretend to busy yourself with your laptop, trying to read over the chat that has now morphed into just meaningless spams of screaming text and heart emojis. Your cursor lingers over nothing, while your heartbeat is running a full blown marathon of panic. 

But when you glance back at Jun, the panic seems to strengthen even more.

“Cat anon, we really appreciate your trust in us,” You finish softly. “And I really hope that our advice tonight resonates with you. At the end of day, we’re all just a bunch of flawed humans looking for love, right? Don’t drive yourself to be perfect, because you’re already perfectly imperfect just as you are. And if your best friend reciprocates these feelings…”

Your eyes flit back up to Jun.

“...then take the leap, because they’re probably already waiting for you.” 

After a pause, you lightly kick Jun’s foot underneath the table. He jolts in his seat like you shocked him, before recovering with a nervous, boyish chuckle, sounding not even close to his usual, bright and effortless laugh. For once, he appears almost rattled, with his pupils wide and his ears pink that even the dim studio lights can hardly hide. 

On the wall, the ON LIVE sign flickers in and out of its glow. 

“She’s, um… Y/N is right, cat anon,” Jun agrees quietly. “You don’t have to become someone else to prove yourself worthy for someone. If they’re your person, then… who you are already is why they stayed this long.” 

From that, the chat practically combusts.

user: WEN JUNHUI???? IS THERE SOMETHING U WANNA SHARE W THE CLASS??? user: why did this suddenly get so intense lmao is it hot in here or is it just me? user: i’ve been on this ship since the beginning of the show!!!!

“Alright, that’s all the time we have for tonight,” You interrupt quickly, instinctively switching back to host mode. “Thank you to everyone who sent in your confessions tonight. Stay safe, stay honest, and please don’t respond to someone who sends you a babygirl text at ungodly hours.”

Jun reaches for the switch. “Goodnight, everyone!”

Click. The ON LIVE sign dies. 

Jun slides the headphones off his head and shuts down his laptop. You do the same. The two of you pack up belongings in that familiar and companionable silence that always spills into the room after a session. When you swing your bag over your shoulder, Jun glances up in your direction worriedly.

“You okay?” he asks. 

You nod, offering him a small, sleepy smile. “Take me home?”

Jun swallows down the lump in his throat.

“Yeah.” He’s already opening the door for you. “Always.”

Jun remembers one of the first discussions the two of you had on the show together.

Love at first sight. 

Back then, the studio was smaller, scrappier, and the chairs squeaked each time either of you moved even a centimetre. The world had fallen asleep long enough that honesty slipped through the cracks of your voices so easily. You both were running on nothing but instant noodles and caffeine, way different than the semi-functional adult routine you have established now. 

He remembers the beautiful laugh that left you when the question came in halfway through a song neither of you remembered choosing. 

He laughed with you too. Rolled his eyes and called it nonsense, all while pretending to not notice how your smile had gone a little soft when you answered it with that amused lilt to your voice. 

“I think it exists,” You had said. “Not like movie magic, though. But… you just meet someone and your brain clicks into place, you know? Like it says, ‘Oh. It’s you.’”

“That sounds like you’re trying to make shit up to justify bad decisions,” Jun argued back with a smirk. 

You gasped at that and slapped his wrist, causing him to laugh. “Excuse me? That was uncalled for.” 

And the segment moved on after that. 

But Jun continues to carry that sentence with him like a permanent scar. 

Oh. It’s you.

“What are the chances that a confession we’ve read out is from someone we know?” Jun asks while plopping a chip in his mouth, adjusting his body from where he had been sprawled across your couch for the past few hours. 

You don’t bother to spare a glance up from your laptop, but a grin crosses your features. “Pretty high, to be honest. Soonyoung once told me he submitted something to the show one time.” 

Jun nearly chokes on the chip scratching at his throat. “Soonyoung? As in Kwon Soonyoung? Never shuts up, Soonyoung?” He sits up so fast he accidentally knicks his socked foot under the coffee table. “Ow! I𑁋What the hell did he confess? Was it about that girl in his dance class that was drooling over him?”

You finally look over at him, chuckling at the way his eyes have grown comically wide. “He didn’t say. Just that he sent it under a funny username and almost died when we read it out. Apparently, we just straight up told him to stop being a coward and talk to her. They went on one date together. He found out she was allergic to cats and broke her heart by saying they were incompatible. End of story.”

Jun stares at you for a full blown three seconds, before he throws his head back into the couch with a laugh so genuine you would think his soul left his body completely. 

“That’s insane,” he says breathlessly. “Literally the most Soonyoung thing to do. No wonder he’s still single.”

“Actually, he’s not,” You chime back in. “I think he’s dating this new girl named… Skye, I think?”

“Sky?”

“Skye, but with an e at the end.” 

“Wow,” Jun mutters, crunching down on another chip and sarcastically adds, “Character development. We love to see it.” 

You roll your eyes, shutting down your laptop with a click and leaning back into the couch with Jun right next to you. You curl your knees up to your chest. “People change, Jun. Miracles happen.” 

Jun offers you the bag of chips. You take one, crunching absentmindedly as your gaze travels somewhere past the TV, past the wall, past everything. He notices. Of course he does. A nudge to your leg awakens you quickly. 

“Where’d you go just now?” he asks.

“Nowhere.”

Jun huffs. “Liar.”

You flick a crumb at him. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” he retorts with a lazy grin, sticking his tongue out.

You shoot a glare at him and snatch the bag of chips from his hand before he can react. A scandalised look splits his face as he lunges to grab it back from your grasp, but you manage to twist your body away and dodge his reach.

“Hey!” he exclaims, attempting to grab the back once more but you clutch it tightly to your chest. “Give that back to me!”

You yelp and scramble further into the arm of the couch, shoulders shaking with laughter as you hug the back tight enough to crush some of the chips inside. “You stole this from my pantry!”

When his fingers brush the corner of the bag, you only yank it away again. Jun narrows his eyes at you, lips twitching upwards like he’s trying not to laugh.

“Y/N.”

“No.”

“Y/N.”

“Junhui.”

“You’re being annoying on purpose.”

“And you love me for it,” You remark, sticking your tongue at him back mockingly.

That does it.

As he makes a dive for it again, you twist a little too far. The next thing you know, you’re collapsing back against the couch cushions with a soft oof, and Jun is falling down with you. Very much ungracefully.

Because one second he’s reaching, the next he finds himself tumbling down over you in a tangle of limbs and laughter, somehow managing to catch himself just beside your head before he can actually crush you into the couch. And he’s way too close.

His knee presses into the cushion in between your legs, while his hand is planted by the side of your head. His dark hair has fallen slightly into his eyes, and his breath comes out unevenly from the laughing.

Your own breathing isn’t exactly steady either. 

Jun looks down at you. You look back up at him. Your apartment suddenly feels fifty times smaller, and the laughter dies instantly, replaced by a familiar heaviness in the air whenever the two of you are alone together. His eyes drop down to your lips for a singular second before flicking back up to your face, and you catch the way his ears redden in slight guilt. 

You swallow down a lump in your throat. “Jun…”

And from that split second of vulnerability, he uses that opportunity to snatch the bag of chips right off your hands, catching you completely off-guard. The warmth in the air still lingers even as he pulls away from you and flops back down on the couch.

“Aha!” he exclaims triumphantly. “Victory is mine!”

You stare at him in disbelief before letting out the loudest, most offended noise imaginable as you smack his shoulder. 

“Wen Junhui!”

“Hm? Sorry, I can’t hear you over the savoury taste of victory,” he quips with a grin, face beaming with pride. 

“You’re such a little thief𑁋”

“You hesitated!” he argues smugly. “So that’s on you!”

“Because you were staring at me all weird!” 

That makes him shut up, the smugness fading off his face so abruptly as if you accidentally powered something in his system off. The apartment goes quiet enough for you to only hear the soft buzz of the refrigerator and the honk of a car outside. You didn’t mean to say it out loud. Or maybe you did, you don’t know. 

“I…” You utter weakly, trying to brush it away with a nervous chuckle. “Can we just pretend I spontaneously combusted instead?”

A soft, disbelieving laugh leaves him. “I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“For… looking at you all weird.”

“Jun𑁋”

“I think I’ll get going. It’s getting late,” he mutters, immediately standing up a little too fast. He grabs the bag of chips instinctively, realises it’s still in his hands, and sets it back down on your coffee table awkwardly. 

He doesn’t look at you as he grabs his hoodie and keys, moving with a surprising speed that even your own brain can barely process what to say. When he’s scrambling to the door, you move before you think, and you grab him by the wrist before he can unlock your door. 

Jun feels his pulse jump harder under your fingertips. Twisting himself back around, he’s met with your soft yet worried gaze, before flicking down to where your hand is still wrapped around his wrist. You release him immediately like you accidentally touched fire.

“Sorry,” You murmur, taking a small step back. “Just… text me when you get home, okay?” 

He nods solemnly. “Yeah. Of course.” A sheepish smile graces his lips for a moment. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Jun.”

You close the door with a quiet click that somehow is louder than it should be. Now, you’re all alone in your apartment, yet the warmth of his presence still lingers through every part of your place. He’s been in here a thousand times𑁋hell, you both have slept in the same bed together a plentiful amount during all the times he’s trespassed in your space𑁋but tonight it feels like there’s a literal dent in the air itself. 

The two of you have shared many awkward moments together. He’s accidentally walked in on you changing a few times; you’ve seen him stress-eat an entire family-sized bag of shrimp chips at four in the morning. You both have seen each other at some of your lowest points, but why, out of all nights, does it hit harder than anything else?

You sink back into the couch with a groan. Your phone burns a hole in your pocket. Ten minutes pass. Then fifteen. Then𑁋

Buzz.

[12:55am | menace (affectionate)] i just got home you okay?

You stare at his message for a long moment.

[12:57am | y/n] good and yeah, i’m fine. you?

[12:58am | menace (affectionate)] splendid! and … tired

[12:58am | y/n] go sleep then dumbass

[12:59am | menace (affectionate)] alright mother calm down i’m brushing my teeth

A low giggle leaves you at his response. A few minutes pass before a new text from him lights up your phone. 

[01:05am | menace (affectionate)] can i ask you something really random?

[01:05am | y/n] of course

The typing bubble appears, disappears, then reappears again.

[01:07am | menace (affectionate)] do you think cat anon is okay?

A sinking feeling opens a pit in your stomach, thumb frozen over your keyboard. You stare at the screen until the words begin to blur. God, of all the questions he had to ask tonight…

[01:10am | y/n] i don’t know i hope so and that they learn it’s okay to be brave

[01:12am | menace (affectionate)] yeah. me too

You’re hardly able to think when his next text comes in quicker than you expected.

[01:12am | menace (affectionate)] goodnight y/n don’t overthink in your sleep

You smile faintly.

[01:13am | y/n] no promises goodnight jun

You lock your phone after that with a tired sigh, tossing it onto the couch cushion besides you like it might bite you back if you hold it for too long. And somewhere on the other side of the city, another phone is tossed away like a shameful piece of evidence. 

As you stare blankly at your dark television and feel the exhaustion of the day weighing between your bones, you know that sleep won’t come easy tonight. It becomes even more challenging even after you brush your teeth, wash your face, doomscroll on your phone for a while, and face plant onto the bed like you just came home from a wounded battle. 

“Pathetic,” You mumble into your pillow to absolutely nobody. “I’m so pathetic.” 

On the other hand, Jun is… doing the exact same thing. 

His ceiling fan spins lazily overhead while his phone screen dims beside him. The last text message you sent to him spirals through the air around him. He doesn’t even know what to do but let out a muffled incredulous laugh into his pillow, sighs, before abruptly sitting up in bed and realising how much of a loser he’s acting right now. 

“I should’ve…” Jun groans, running a hand over his face. “I should’ve just told her… I’m such a coward.” 

Because the thing about running a late-night show where love is the main topic and advice is given, is that it’s painfully easy to tell strangers to be brave when your own heart isn’t on the line, when you’re not the aforementioned person in the story who is being pined over. It’s easy to take the leap when you aren’t standing at the edge yourself. Yet for some reason, it’s only harder to take the leap when you don’t even follow the advice you give to others. 

The irony is quite laughable, to be honest. 

Jun grabs his laptop and forces it open, the bright screen nearly blinding him in the darkness of his bedroom, but he doesn’t care. He finds himself navigating to his email, switching to his second account, and gets greeted by a particular message that had already been forwarded to the radio show. A message that had already been read, answered, and sent under a certain pseudonym.

Dear Y/N and Jun of Love On Air…

Biting down on his bottom lip, he opens up a fresh draft and begins typing. 

“Take the leap, cat anon,” he repeats to himself over and over again. “Take the leap, Wen Junhui.” 

Jun texted you two hours before the show that he was sick along with a selfie of him buried in a hoodie he threw on, somehow contracting a stomach bug which he blamed on some expired convenience store gimbap. He insisted that he could still come in, yet you reassured him with a string of sobbing emojis that it’s probably in his best interest to stay home to rest, and that you could handle hosting the show on your own, even if… you’ve never really done it before. 

The show must go on, after all. 

So when you find yourself sitting alone within the quiet studio just mere minutes from going live, you definitely sense both the physical and mental emptiness of his presence in the room a little too sharply. His headphones are still left the way he always leaves them, and his chair is facing the wrong wrong because he spins in it so much that he never bothers to put it back properly. 

A small, fond chuckle leaves you at the thought of him, and you have to chase those thoughts away the second the clock strikes midnight. From there, you roll your shoulders back to shake away any residual nerves, clear your throat, and reach over to the switch. 

Taking one last deep breath, you flip it on. The ON LIVE sign sparks to life on the wall.

“Good evening to all our fellow lonely and emotionally volatile listeners,” You greet warmly into the microphone. “Welcome back to everyone’s favourite unhinged radio show, Love On Air, live at midnight every Saturday on FM 98.7.” 

Your eyes can barely keep track of the live chat box being spammed with incoming messages. You read a couple of messages out of people describing their day, but it isn’t long until the elephant in the room is acknowledged.

You snort lightly. “I regret to inform you all that Jun has passed away due to… alleged food poisoning.” Some comments following your words make you laugh. “Yes, yes, you’re all invited to the funeral, don’t worry.”

user: i commence a ritual to bring him back or we riot 🙏🙏 user: bro probably slept through his alarm honestly user: WAIT BUT THIS FEELS SO WRONG W/O HIM 😭😭 user: rip… guess no husband and wife arguments for now… 😔

“He offered to join while sick, by the way,” You add in quickly. “But I personally vetoed it. I’m not letting a man who ate expired gimbap shit his way into a session. He’s probably listening in right now, so hi, Jun. Hope you’re still intact, buddy.” 

After a few minutes of more interactions, you finally pull up the radio show’s inbox and begin to organise through the confessions that were received recently. That weird feeling creeps back up your spine once again as you scroll𑁋not about the confessions specifically, just the thought about doing this alone. Your eyes flick to the empty chair right next to you once more. 

You read a few confessions and answer two callers𑁋there’s one from someone who felt bad for ghosting someone they actually liked, another person confesses they’re having a hard time with their partner wanting to open up their relationship, and one with expressing their fears of having their first time with the wrong person. You offer your own thoughtful answers and advice as best as you can, yet it feels so lackluster and flat without Jun’s playful interjections whenever you get too sappy on air. 

“Your first time should be with someone who makes you feel safe, not just wanted,” You say gently into the microphone. “You deserve that. Don’t settle for anything less. It’s okay to wait until that safety feels undeniable.”

The chat floods with hearts and supportive messages. A few people send their thank yous for the advice. Some latecomers ask questions about Jun’s whereabouts.You smile gratefully, but it feels a little fragile tonight, not quite reaching up to your eyes. 

As the final music break of the session ends, you unmute your microphone to speak.

“Alright, listeners, we’ve reached the final thirty minutes of tonight’s session. I want to thank you as always for staying up and listening into the show,” You announce confidently. “We’ve got time for… maybe a few more confessions and a possible lucky caller, so let’s see what we have left.”

Scrolling silently through the inbox, it isn’t long until your cursor hovers a familiar username once again. Your heart spikes at the sight, hesitating for a slow second.”

“Everyone, let’s welcome cat anon back to the stage with another follow-up confession.” You click the confession, take in a deep breath you’re sure the viewers can hear, and start to read it aloud.

Dear Y/N of Love On Air… Hi, it’s me again. To be honest, I don’t really know why I keep sending these, but somehow I always end up back here again. You truly have a way of words, and I really want to thank you for that. I thought about what you said about imperfect love. I used to think that if I fix every flaw about myself, then maybe I’ll be worthy of them, but now I know that love is someone seeing every fractured version of you, and staying anyway. There’s something else I want to confess too. I think I’ve been waiting so long for the “perfect” moment that I accidentally passed a thousand “imperfect” ones. It makes me terrified that they’ll meet someone more braver than me, so I’ll use this chance now to be brave for once.  I’ll be ready on the line for this session and use this chance to finally face whatever happens next. I hope you’re able to answer my call whenever that may be. I have an important message to send. 🐱

Your voice comes out almost too quiet by the end you finish reading. You flit a quick glance to the ever-exploding live chat box.

user: HOLY SHITTT CAT ANON VOICE REVEAL??? user: answer the call! answer the call! user: IM GONNA THROW UP WHY AM I SO NERVOUS user: we’re witnessing a cinematic moment in history wtff

Suddenly, the blink of the call line makes your throat tighten. Your fingers hover over the console as if it might suddenly jump out and bite you. God, you don’t understand why you’re unexpectedly so nervous𑁋you’ve talked to many callers, and yet, speaking with cat anon has you on complete edge. 

“Okay,” You stammer shakily into the microphone, covering up your nerves with a faint smile. “Let’s… let’s take this final call of the night, everyone.”

When you answer the line, it’s as if the world goes entirely mute, except for the intense pounding your chest. Nothing but static fills your headphones as the line struggles to connect for a few torturous moments.

Then, a quiet breath reverberates into your ears. The kind of breath that sounded like it had to claw its way out of someone’s chest. 

“...hello?”

The voice is slightly distorted through the line, unmistakably low𑁋clearly a male voice𑁋and trembling slightly around the edges. It’s more of a whisper, if anything. Perhaps he’s just as nervous as you. 

“Hi,” You greet warmly, slipping back into your professional radio voice. “You’re live on air with Love On Air. Is this… the one and only cat anon?” 

A small, embarrassed huff of air crosses the line. He sounds a bit closer this time as he replies, “...yeah, it’s me.” 

“Well, I’m giving you the floor now,” You assure firmly. “Whatever you need to say… we’re listening.”

Another shaky breath crackles through the line. You can practically touch the contemplation that’s buzzing through the call with your fingertips if that’s even possible, and even within the studio itself. 

When the seconds of silence turn into a full-blown minute of consideration, the line crackles once more.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Your heart stops. Your mind draws a complete and utter blank. The abrupt clarity of his voice cuts through any lingering distortion and static and hits you like a wave. The world itself feels as if it’s tilted on its axis. 

“Jun𑁋?”

“I love you,” he repeats more firmly this time, voice raw and full of everything he’s been holding back. “and I told you I was sick tonight because I couldn’t sit right next to you while you gave advice I was too scared to take. I just𑁋holy shit, I love you…”

Your mouth parts open in shock, then closes. The chat is going absolutely feral right now and you can barely read through all the comments without having this unusual urge to just slam your hand onto the console and pretend that you’re suffering from pure delirium. 

On the wall, the ON AIR still glows stubbornly. 

user: I FREAKING KNEW THAT CAT ANON WAS JUN user: may i find this kind of love one day what the helly 🙏 user: Y/N ARE YOU BREATHING RIGHT NOW ???? user: our stupid oblivious hosts are in love. I CALLED it

You feel as if you almost have to squeeze your voice just to get it out. “Jun…”

On the other hand, he inhales sharply.

“...yeah?”

“You’re such an idiot,” You sputter out. “Do you have any idea how… how insane this is? Confessing on our show… using a pseudonym I gave advice to𑁋”

“I know.”

“𑁋after lying about being sick𑁋”

“I know.”

“𑁋and letting me sit here and talk about love like you weren’t the one I was talking to the whole time?” You ramble on out of a sheer mix of pure disbelief and relief, tightening your grip on the microphone. “Like all the advice I said wasn’t about… us?” 

You hear some rapid shuffling on the other side, and you could almost imagine Jun sitting up in bed as if he’s received the most shocking news of his entire life. Then you hear his dazed laugh flowing into your ears.

“Yeah,” he admits quietly. “It was.”

Your breath catches embarrassingly hard and your face is completely on fire. The chat combusts once again, and you have to keep mentally reminding yourself that this entire interaction is live and half the city is probably listening in at this very second. 

“From the first moment I saw you back in college,” Jun continues softly. “My heart and brain did the thing, you know? That you said before𑁋where you meet someone and all you can think is: Oh, it’s you. The second I saw you, I just… I knew I wanted to keep seeing you.” 

You feel your eyes start to burn.

“I should’ve said it years ago, but I’m… I’m a coward. I know I am,” he mutters helplessly. “I know it’s stupid pretending to be cat anon because it was safer than telling my best friend I’m in love with her. Stupid that I… used to remind myself that I never deserved someone as bright as you. But anytime you told someone to suck it up and take the leap, I had to do it now or else I’d lose the chance and probably explode.”

He lets out a soft, breathless, disbelieving laugh of relief at the very end. Tears are streaming down your face at this point, but you don’t care. 

user: IM PASSING TISSUES DOES ANYONE ELSE NEED ONE??? user: jun confessing his undying devoted love to y/n life is worth living again!!!! user: i feel like a successful marriage counselor WTF user: the solomon paradox is REAL

“Gosh, you’re…” You wipe a tear from your eye, murmuring weakly, “Your timing really needs to be studied, Jun.” 

“Wait, wait, are you crying?” Jun asks worriedly in a fit of panic. “I didn’t mean to make you cry on air𑁋oh, my God, I can take it back, I can𑁋”

“You cannot ‘take this back’, you idiot!” You cut in immediately. “I’m crying because I’m in love with your stupid ass too! And if you don’t get here and finish the show with me, I’m absolutely going to lose the rest of my dignity.”

There’s a very long, suspicious beat of silence that passes. It’s enough to have you feel like you’re going through all the stages of grief in just a matter of seconds. And you swear on Jun’s life that if he doesn’t say something in the next minute, you might actually crash out and let the world witness your breakdown. 

But reality snaps back in when you hear the sound of him nearly tripping on the other end of the line. 

“I’m coming,” he reassures you. “I’m sprinting as fast as I can. Stay there for me, okay? Don’t finish the show without me.” 

The line goes dead.

The night is quietly young as you and Jun step back into your apartment, the door clicking shut behind to finally cut out the rest of the world.

You still can barely process what just happened. First, Jun had texted you that he was quite literally shitting bricks for the entire day (which was a lie, thank goodness), then you somehow managed to host an entire segment all on your own without losing your sanity, and now the man you’ve been secretly in love for years had confessed to you𑁋live on air, alongside an entire audience of fellow love drunk listeners𑁋and is currently standing directly in front of you, wearing a hoodie he probably put on right before sprinting to the studio and a pair of pyjama sweatpants.

Jun doesn’t waste a single second. He steps up close to you and carefully wraps his long arms around you, the comforting scent of him quickly filling all your senses. He lets his forehead rest against yours, the two of you shutting your eyes together as you simply bask in each other’s presence. 

“You’re real,” he murmurs, his hands trembling where they rest on your back. “I swear I thought I hallucinated the entire night. I need someone to pinch me if𑁋hey!”

You giggle at the way his face dramatically contorts with a pout, soothing his side with a gentle squeeze. You tilt your head enough to brush your nose against his. 

“Then kiss me like I’m real, you idiot.”

For a moment, he just blinks like you spoke complete gibberish. Then he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, sending immediate shivers that make your knees weak. You let out a soft sigh into his mouth as the kiss deepens ever so slightly, your hands slowly sliding up his chest. You feel him chuckle against your lips. 

As you kiss, you find yourself backing up in the direction of the couch. Jun follows without breaking contact with your mouth. When the backs of his knees hit the cushions, you both tumble down together in a clumsy, giggly heap with you on top of him, straddling him.

You brace your hands on his shoulders, and Jun’s arms lock around your waist instantly, holding you flush against him. And for a second, you both just… stare at each other. 

Jun is the first to break, his eyes flitting back and forth between your eyes and lips as he doesn’t know where to look. “What?”

You bite your lip to keep from smiling too wide at how ridiculously cute and disheveled he looks right now, tilting your head at him like you’re pretending to study him. You lean in a little just to tease, and instinctively, he puckers his lips together, chasing after yours when you pull back away. 

“I can’t believe how stupid we are,” You whisper, brushing his lips briefly in a feather-light peck. “Giving advice to everyone but ourselves. We wasted literal years.” 

Jun chases after your mouth again, capturing it properly this time and pulling away with a satisfied hum. “Mhm. Absolute morons.” His hands find their way under your shirt, tenderly mapping the bare skin of your waist. “But I’m done wasting time now.” 

You chuckle into the next kiss, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably as he tries to deepen it. God, his lips are so eagerly soft, but he’s smiling so hard you momentarily knock your teeth against his.

“Mm, wait,” You mumble against his mouth as you draw back to readjust your position, causing him to suck in a breath. “Are you trying to eat my face? Where’s the technique?”

He blinks up at you dazedly, mouth parted in playful offense. His hands tighten around your waist. “I𑁋excuse me?”

“Zero finesse. One star. I expected more from cat anon.”

Jun sits up suddenly so that you’re basically pressed chest-to-chest with each other. 

“You’re too cute, that’s the problem,” he says, voice deep yet still a little rough around the edges. “How am I supposed to kiss you if I short-circuit and all I could think, holy shit, she’s mine?” 

Your heart does a stupid little flip from his words. “Flattery won’t save your shitty technique.”

“Oh, yeah?” He cups your face with both hands, thumbs caressing your cheeks. “Watch this.” 

The next kiss is messier𑁋heated, giggly, and clumsy because you both can’t stop smiling. You feel your toes curl as he nips lightly at your bottom lip. You sigh into it, threading your hands through his hair, the heat of it enough to make you rock your hips against his growing hardness. 

You feel the heat dancing up your skin and pooling into your belly as you continue your lazy grinding against him, swallowing down the broken sigh and groans that fall out of his mouth. When his mouth begins its descent down your jaw and to a particular sensitive spot behind your ear, he smirks against your warm skin. 

“Fuck𑁋you like that?” he breathes out, his fingertips brushing the underside of your breast underneath your shirt. 

A shaky laugh leaves you, but it melts quickly into a soft moan when his thumb brushes your already-hardened nipple. “Don’t get cocky. Still𑁋mmh𑁋mediocre at best.”

Jun lifts his brow, mouth curved into a stupidly fond grin. “Mediocrity, huh?” He pinches your nipple gently, causing you to jerk your hips into his. “Your body is saying something different, baby.”

“Ignore her. She’s… a traitor,” You croak out, grinding against the hard line of his cock through his sweatpants. 

Jun merely chuckles, tugging your shirt up enough to expose your chest. He unclips your bra without any hesitation, pushing the straps off your shoulders then letting it fall uselessly to the floor. His eyes widen as he takes a few seconds to drink you in completely.

“God, you’re so beautiful…” 

Then his mouth is back on you. He sucks one nipple between his lips while his hand affectionately palms the other. A crude moan slips out of you this time; it heightens his confidence even more. 

As his mouth lavishes attention to your other breast, he drags his hand down your side, teasingly sliding under the waistband of your pants to cup you over your pants. He can feel how warm you are already. 

“Rating?” he requests with a firm suck. 

“Like a solid𑁋shit𑁋two-point-five out of five…”

Jun pulls off your breast with a wet pop, grin turning wicked. “But you’re soaked, and you’re still calling me below average? I think your pussy disagrees.”

You open your mouth to retort, but then he slides his hand into your panties, fingers circling over your slick folds, and nothing but a breathy gasp escapes you. Your hips roll down to meet his hand as he inserts a finger inside of you, curling into that spot that makes your back arch and he has to use his other hand to hold you in place. 

“What’s the rating now?” he asks, watching the way your face is beautifully twisting with pleasure as a second finger slides inside. 

You shoot him a death glare as you clench around his hand. “Three𑁋fuck, right there𑁋three-point-eight𑁋”

“Getting better already,” he hums in approval, leaning back down to worship your breasts once more. The dual sensation has your head falling down into the crook of his neck, your moans caressing his skin.

“Four𑁋Jun, you asshole𑁋four-point-five𑁋”

He pulls his fingers out of you unexpectedly, making you whine at the loss. Before you can complain, you find yourself being flipped on the couch as he settles in between your thighs, looking up at you with that mischievous, hungry, adoring look. He gives another tug to the waistband of your pants.

“Final rating before I eat you out?” 

Your chest heaves, though you try to keep your tone light and teasing. “Four-point-seven. Don’t get lazy down there or I’m docking points, smartass.”

Jun’s eyes sparkle with challenge as he helps you out of the rest of your clothes. When you’re fully bare in front of him, he spreads your thighs even further, letting his mouth hover tantalisingly where you need him most.

“Four-point-seven,” he repeats to himself, pressing a trail of kisses to your inner thigh. “I can work with that. Watch me get that perfect five.” 

Then he leans in and drags his tongue up your soaked pussy in one long stripe, a groan leaving him as he tastes you for the first time. Your hips jolt against his face, a sharp moan tumbling out of you and bouncing off the walls of your quiet apartment.

“Oh𑁋Jun𑁋”

“Hmm?” He circles your clit with the tip of his tongue before sucking it gently into his mouth, eyes flicking up to watch your face. Two fingers slide back inside of you, curling into that spot that makes your vision glassy. “God, you taste even better than I imagined…”

You slap a hand over your mouth as the pleasure starts to bloom its way out of you, but he reaches up and pulls it away, lacing your fingers together.

“Don’t do that, please,” he murmurs against your pussy. “Let me hear you, baby…”

The way he eats you out has your head spinning. It’s dizzying, a little messy, and entirely devoted to you. The wet sounds of his mouth and fingers echo and your moans and gasps travel throughout the room, only making him double down even harder to bring you over the edge.

“Five𑁋five stars𑁋ah, please𑁋”

You cum with a cry of his name, the pleasure crashing into you in waves. He continues to lazily lap at you before you start trying to push his head away, the two of you giggling breathlessly in the aftermath.

When he pulls away, his lips are shiny and he looks foolishly pleased with himself. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and crawls his way back up your body, meeting you for a deep kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, and the thought that this absolute klutz of a man just gave you the best orgasm of your life sends another shaky giggle rolling out of you. 

“You okay?” he breathes against your mouth, chuckling softly of you barely controlling your laughter.

You run a hand over down your warm face. “I… what the hell just happened?”

“That was me letting go after holding back for years,” he answers without diffidence, tracing soothing circles over your bare thigh. “Do I get a final rating now?”

“Hmm, solid five-point-five. An extra half point for your enthusiasm and those cute noises you made down there.” You run your fingers through his messy hair, making him lean into your touch like a baby kitten. “But I’ll let you try for a six if you fuck me right now.”

Jun’s eyes darken instantly. “Say less.”

The two of you battle over taking off the rest of his clothes. Jun attempts to smoothly yank his hoodie off in one go, but it gets snug on something, causing him to laugh when it gets caught on his shoulders.

“Oh, my God𑁋stay still so I can take it off, you dummy!” You exclaim in frustration. 

“Help me then, smartass!” His laughter is muffled into the fabric. 

When you finally unsnag the hoodie and toss it somewhere on the floor, you both immediately reach for his pants at the same time, elbows bumping into each other. Rolling your eyes, you lightly smack his hand away so you can push it down his hips with borderline desperation. He kicks it off the rest of the way, his boxers following quickly.

The second he’s fully bare in front of you for the first time, he cages you into the couch right above you, littering soft kisses over your flushed cheeks. His cock rests heavily against your stomach as he stares down at you, chest rising and falling heavily.

“Hi,” he whispers stupidly, like he’s just remembered how to speak.

“Hi,” You reply with a bashful smile, reaching up to cradle his face, pinching his cheeks together. “Still waiting for my six-star performance.”

“Give me a break, I’m nervous!” he gasps defensively, grinding the underside of his dick along your slickness unconsciously. “I’ve only pictured this every single night for, like, the past four years!”

“Poor baby,” You coo impishly, reaching down to stroke him softly. “You’ve been jerking off to the thought of me for four years?”

Jun whines needily, burying his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply. “Stop bullying me when I’m trying hard not to embarrass myself right now.”

“Then embarrass yourself. I’ve waited just as long, you idiot,” You urge, bringing him closer until there’s physically no more space between your bodies. 

With a sly smirk, he reaches down, lines himself up with you, and slowly pushes inside. He groans lowly as he sinks inside you until his hips are pressed against yours. For a second, he doesn’t move at all, only trembling with his forehead leaning onto yours. 

“Oh fuck𑁋I think I died a little,” he grunts pitifully into your neck. “You’re so warm. And tight. Think I-I short-circuited again.”

You give his shoulder a tight squeeze. “Move, Jun. Please.”

He obeys right away, thrusting into you experimentally and drawing a collective moan out from both of you. When he snaps himself into you again, again, and again, he sets a slow, deep rhythm that has the couch creaking softly beneath you.

“Shit, Jun𑁋” Your nails rake down his back as he hits that spot perfectly inside you again and again, wrapping your legs around his waist. “You… You feel so good.” 

“Yeah? You look so pretty falling apart on my cock, baby,” he praises heavily, voice sounding absolutely wrecked. “Still rating me? Am I passing?”

Your laugh dissolves into a moan when a particular thrust punches the air out of your lungs. 

“You’re at…” You bite down harshly on your bottom lip, glancing down to where you’re joined together. “Five-point… seven𑁋shit, keep going like that, I’m so close…”

“I’m so close too, not gonna last,” he pants, his breath molten on your neck. “God, I love you, I love you, I love you…”

You grab him by the nape of his neck to collapse his mouth back onto yours, swallowing all his desperate little grunts and sighs as the kiss turns heated fast. His rhythm stutters for the briefest second before he regains himself swiftly, the wet slap of your bodies meeting over and over again flooding the room, with your own hips rolling to meet with each of his thrusts. 

The heat of it all invades through all your nerves, that familiar coil tightening in your belly. The rating game is completely out of the window now. There’s only nothing but the drag of his cock kissing your walls and this thumb dipping in between your legs to caress your clit, encouraging you to let go.

When your orgasm finally crashes, it’s much more intense than the last. Your nails imprint sharp crescents down his back as one final broken cry rips out from your throat, stars bursting behind your ears. Your walls squeeze around him so tightly he curses, the drive of his hips faltering sloppily. 

“Baby, I can’t𑁋I’m gonna𑁋where𑁋?” 

“Inside,” You beg gravelly, wrapping your arms around him even tighter. “Lose yourself in me, Jun, please.”

That’s all it takes for his own orgasm to hit him. With one final thrust, he spills inside of you with a deep, guttural groan. His face drops into the crook of your sweaty neck as shaky little whimpers continue to leave him𑁋your name, I love you, fuck I love you𑁋repeatedly until he’s completely spent and melted into your arms. 

For a few moments of stillness, the only sounds travelling throughout the room is your ragged breathing and the sudden hum of your refrigerator. Eventually, Jun lifts his head from where it’s been resting comfortably on your chest. His dark hair is sticking out in all sorts of places, a few strands even matted to his forehead. And his eyes are half-lidded, yet so soft and full of love that you almost want to sob.

“So…” he starts hoarsely, kissing the tip of your nose. “Final rating?”

You let out a tired, contented laugh, brushing damp strands of his hair off his face.

“Mmmh… six-point-five,” You decide sleepily, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

A bright, boyish grin unleashes across his face. “I’ll take it. Room for improvement for the next round.”

“I𑁋next round?!”

“I aim to achieve ten stars. Or maybe more than that.”

“God, you’re so insatiable,” You groan, shaking your head despite the smile breaking through your expression. “Later on, maybe… for now, I just want to hold you.”

Jun swears he feels himself literally melt into a puddle at that, because how could he ever deny a request like that from you? Despite the little space on your creaky couch, he pulls out of you with a wince, grabs the throw blanket that has unknowingly dropped to the floor before shifting himself more deeper into your arms. The soft fabric wraps around your bare bodies together in a warm, messy nest, one of his legs slotting in between your legs. 

“Better?” he mumbles hopefully, letting his eyes fall to a close so he could listen to your heartbeat.

“Mhm. Much,” You hum in response, nosing through his hair. “I love you, you menace.”

You feel his lips meet the soft skin above your breast, right over your heartbeat.

“I love you too, dummy.”

Remember that stray cat that landed on your doorstep at the very beginning and refused to leave?

Yeah, he’s right where he wants to be now.

perm taglist (open) ʚɞ

@sn4psh00t @slytherinshua @seungkw1 @etherealyoungk @bananabubble

@parakissss @eskoupe @gent1es3xy @cherryophile @jaja-salute

@mellow-wishes @eternalse7en @hongyinujiang

[thestraybunny]

It's Always You *Y.JH*

Pairing: Non-Idol Jeonghan x F. Reader WC: 14.5+K Rating: E 18+ MDNI Genre: Non-Idol AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, smut, fluff Summary: Growing up, you and Jeonghan were inseparable, best friends, partners in crime, each other’s rocks when needed. It was always you and him against the world. Then you grew up. You moved away for college while he stayed behind. Lives took you in different directions, further away from your hometown, from the world you knew, from Jeonghan. But you both made a promise, the year you turned 31, you two would meet again no matter where life took you. To reconnect, to catch up, to remember your friendship. It was meant to be a rebirth of your friendship, but really it was the beginning of something more. And remind you that he's home

Tags: Non-Idol AU, Childhood friends to Lovers, Reuniting, mentions of teenage rebellion (smoking, drinking, other things teens shouldn’t be doing), rough housing, mention of family loss, yearning, Jeonghan is down bad, Member Appearances, drinking, smoking (weed and cigarettes), tension, flirting, angst, fluff, smut; Nickname: bug (hers) Smut tags: Unprotected sex (no don’t do this), oral (m. receiving)

A/N: Here is my second submission for the wonderful The Reef In Bloom collab by @dorereef. Thank you again to @mylovesstuffs (for letting me use your name in this too!) and @nothoughtsjustfic for hosting this collab. This was alot of fun to write and be part of. I once more am happy to be part of it. A/N2: Thank you for @gam3bo17 and @aeristudios for helping me out with this fic, and thank you Aeris for beta reading. You are the best! <3

I hope you all enjoy! My Jihoon submission will be later this week.

Seventeen Masterlist

*Twenty-four years ago*

“Yoon Jeonghan!” His mother’s voice boomed through the small home, your full name quickly following, but it was fruitless. The two of you were already running out the door, giggling, both of you with handfuls of the cookies that his mother had spent hours making.

“This way,” you tell him, and the seven-year-old boy nodded, following you without any further questions. Just like you did him.

Pushing aside a broken board in a fence, you and him slipped through into an abandoned looking backyard. On the other end of the yard, there was an old wooden shed and exactly where you were leading him. The once fresh and crisp wood now weathered from age and the elements; the door barely held onto its hinges, and a window that had several cracks in it.

Your hidden oasis. Yours and Jeonghan's little hide out.

Inside the old building, cobwebs covered corners of the walls. There was an old lawnmower that was rusted and abandoned to time and a built-in table to one side that was already filled with other snacks and drinks you both swiped from each other’s home. There were also two small sleeping bags laid out to be able to sit on the ground without getting your bottoms dirty.

“I can’t believe she fell for that,” Jeonghan giggled, setting his share of the cookies onto a broken plastic plate, one your grandmother threw away and you dug out of the trash to use in your ‘hide out’.

“I told you, she would. She’s like my grandma when she is baking.” You tell him with ease. Your seven-year-old confidence was admirable, your share joining his on the plate, except for one that you were going to eat. Taking a bite of the soft warm cookie, you continued to talk with your mouth full, “It was all a matter of striking at the right moment. You know this, Hanni.”

“She is going to be so mad at me when I get home,” He chuckled, his own mouth now full of cookies. You roll your eyes, reaching up from your place on the ground to grab two juice boxes, because you knew Jeonghan’s mom wasn’t going to be that mad. Not like your grandma would be at least. “She will be!”

“She never stays mad at you,” You quipped, dropping your cookie to cross your arms, a pout already forming. “You hardly ever get in trouble.”

“That’s not true!” Jeonghan shot back, copying you exactly, but stuck his tongue out in the process. “You don’t know how often I get in trouble. Especially because of you!”

“I don’t tell you to join in! I suggest!” You could feel your body growing hot with annoyance, dropping your arms with your fists now clenched. “You are the one who gets me in trouble all the time!”

“Yes, you do! You pulled my hair the last time I didn’t go with one of your plans!” Jeonghan snapped, and you gasped like he had just insulted your entire doll collection. Then you hit his arm, and his face darkened. “See! You hit me if I don’t agree with you!”

“You pushed me in the mud the last time I disagreed with you!” You countered, your young voices rising as you both did, getting into each other’s faces. “And I was grounded for a week after that too! I couldn’t watch TV because of you!”

Somehow this turned into a little squabble, where you and Jeonghan grabbed each other. Your hand was in his short dark hair, while he was trying to swat you off, crying out to let him go. In the middle of it, one of your feet kicked the plate that held your stolen cookies, breaking the plastic further and the baked treats were now being trampled by your feet.

“Look what you did!” Jeonghan yelled,  pointing to the cookies when he finally was able to get your hand out of his hair while you stood there. Your face contorted into anger, and more offense that he would blame you when he was being the mean one.

“I didn’t just do that! You did too!” You retorted, and the young boy rolled his eyes. “Our cookies are ruined! And so is our little spot! You need to clean that up!”

“No, you!”

“You!”

In the end, the two of you ended up sitting on opposite ends of the sleeping bags. Arms crossed, backs facing each other, while the broken cookies and plate rested between you both. The silence was loud as you both refused to be the one to speak first, both of you too stubborn to break first.

In the end it was Jeonghan who broke the silence, standing to grab another juice box for you both and a packet of candies that you liked from the table. A peace offering in a way. You shot him a look, your eyes dropping to the candies and juice box before up to his face. His gaze was softer, with an apologetic expression on his face.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, and you tried to keep up being mad, but the way his bottom lip jutted out as he apologized made it hard. Instead, you reached out and took the offerings, and he sat down next to you.

“Sorry too...” You mumbled, sharing the candies with him before cleaning up the broken plate and ruined cookies.

*Thirteen years ago*

“Oh my god, Jeonghan, stop hogging the joint!” You whined, reaching for the rolled up paper that had your weed in it, but Jeonghan seemed to be trying to smoke it all to himself.

“Give me. Remember its puff puff give. I only did one puff.” He retorted, holding the joint just out of your reach so you were practically falling into the eighteen-year-old boy.

“Bullshit! That was more than one; hell it was more than two! It was like three!” You argued back, your arm still outstretched to grab the joint from him, “Yoon Jeonghan, if you don’t give me that joint now, I am beating your bitch ass up.”

“Please like you can take me,” Jeonghan laughed, attempting to put the burning joint back to his lips, his other arm trying to push you back while you fought to grab it from him.

You both were back at the shed again, the same old structure still holding out even after all these years, but things were different. The old lawnmower was now gone and sitting next to the it, collecting more rust and cobwebs in its new home, the webs in the corners no longer there, and the sleeping bags had changed to an old loveseat that one of your friends found. The juice boxes and snacks that were once on the table were replaced with a pizza box, a half empty bottle of Jeonghan’s dad stolen whiskey, a baggy of cheap weed, and some rolling papers.

And the two seven-year-olds who would hide away in it with stolen snacks, or other things to entertain were now eighteen. Freshly graduated from high school, stuck in that limbo stage where you both weren’t quite adults but not quite children anymore, and preparing for the next steps in your life. You were going off to a school abroad while Jeonghan was staying back in your hometown, choosing to go to a local college first.

“God, you’re so annoying,” You pouted, practically pushing him back and sitting on his stomach to grab the joint, but laughter was filtering out of you before you could stop it. Bringing laughter from the pinned man below you, a lazy smirk played over his lips like he was meant to win this no matter what. “Jeonghan, you’re going to smoke it all!”

“Then I will buy you more!” He argued, and you slapped his chest. Grabbing your wrist before you could hit him again, Jeonghan’s grip held you there as he lifted the joint to your lips. Like instinct, you took a deep inhale, letting the harsh herb fill your lungs and altering your non-sober state more. You try to free yourself from him, so you can smoke it how you wanted, but he wouldn’t let you.

Pulling back finally, you blew the smoke from your lungs into the air, and it was then that Jeonghan let you go, only to be smacked in the chest once more before you slipped off him and back to your seat next to him. Your leg tucked under you, your bare skin pressing into the old wood by your weight, but you ignored any possible splinters that may come from it.

“You suck, you know that?” You tell him, and this earned another chuckle from him.

“And you blow. We’re both whores here.” Jeonghan teased, placing the joint between his lips to rest his arms behind his head. Each breath inhaled the smoke from nearly finished joint into his lungs. His long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, but there were several strands that fell loose around his face.

His old Sublime shirt torn in a different place and showed off his stomach from the way he was laying, skinny jeans, and a gold chain with angel wings that was once yours laying against his throat. Skin glowing from the setting sun and the lantern behind you both, making him look ethereal.

You envied how beautiful your best friend was.

“Give me that,” You quipped, taking the chance to swipe the joint from him. A triumphant smile was playing over your lips before you realized that it was nearly gone. “You asshole, you smoked most of this.”

“And you drank most of my whiskey. Call us even.” He answered dismissively, closing his eyes briefly.

“Whatever,” you told him, taking whatever hit you can of the joint before putting it out, smashing it hard against the wood. Silence followed, the two of you sitting at the doorway of the shed, your eyes scanning the overgrown yard and the half burnt down house just feet from you.

It’d been like that for years, with no one coming to do anything about the destroyed home or the property it stood on, making it a haven for you and Jeonghan growing up, and a place of many things. Your first kiss with a boy that smelled like he used a whole can of body spray to cover that he hadn’t bathed, Jeonghan’s first kiss with a girl who tried to fight you over him.

You spent nights in the shed to avoid your grandparents and their old fashion but offensive words, many with Jeonghan right next to you. Refusing to leave you while you refused to crash at his place, because you knew his mom would call your grandparents. You got high and drunk for the first time with him next to you, and blasted music through a shitty speaker that neither of you could explain the origin of.

Hell, you two used it as a place to hide once when you had the cops called on you for stealing. You don’t think either of you had ever been so scared thinking you were caught, but it didn’t stop you because the thrill left you both laughing until your stomach hurts.

You laughed, cried, and felt every emotion you could think of in this shed, with Jeonghan beside you. In a week's time, you will be on a plane to a new country with a family friend willing to house you during your studies, and away from your home. Away from your life, away from the little shed. Away from the comforting blanket of your hometown.

Away from Jeonghan.

“You’re thinking too loud again,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, turning your gaze toward your best friend. He was still laying back; arms folded behind his head as a pillow and prop, with his eyes on you. A small sad smile played on his lips, because he knew what you were thinking about too. “Talk to me, bug.”

"You're a bug. I should squish you," You answer back, matching his smile as you watched him let our a breathy laugh.

“I would like to see you try. You couldn’t even get the joint from me.” He then lifts his leg to nudge you with his knee. “Now, talk to me.”

“It’s stupid.”

“I mean, yeah your face is, but it’s at least pretty while being it.” He offered and you slapped his knee. He then sat up, giving you the famous lazy Jeonghan smirk you grew up seeing, but you could tell it was only a front.

“Just… growing up.” You told him, gesturing between the two of you, “We’re no longer kids anymore…”

“Debatable.” He murmured while you spoke.

“…we graduated high school and are preparing to be thrusted into the real world. We’re having to finally grow up and face life. I’m…” The words failed you then, and in its place was a soft choking sound. A sob that wanted to burst through, but you managed to swallow it back while blinking the sudden tears that wanted to fall. Jeonghan could see it all as he nodded. “I’m leaving… leaving everything I know…” This time your voice cracked, “Leaving you.”

“Please, the moment you agreed to marry me on the playground at five you were stuck with me.” Jeonghan answered, doing what he did best, trying to make light of something instead of showing what he’s really feeling. And you hated that it would work more times than it didn’t. “Just… there is going to be some distance between us. It’s not like I’m not a phone call or message away, and we’ll see each other again. This isn’t a final thing.”

“It feels like it is.” This comment made him tsk at you.

“It doesn’t to me.” He shook his head, watching through broken windows as a car passed by. The driver wouldn’t even know you were sharing one of the last times together before life took hold of you. One of the last times you would be free like this, this age, in the moment, and with the only person, besides your grandparents, who stuck by your side.

Someone you grew up with, someone you got into trouble with, someone who never was fake with you. Someone you saw every day and spent most of it with. Your best friend.

“It doesn’t?”

“Of course not. How could it be when we are still so young?” He asked simply and you could only listen to him, “It’s also not like you are leaving for good. Your grandparents are still here; your friends are here… I am here.”

“But what if our lives don’t allow room for each other anymore?” This earned another tsk, as well as an offending sounding laugh. Hurt flashed across his eyes before he looked away, like it was preposterous to even say something like that.

“I don’t know about you, but I’ll always have room for you in my life.” He said curtly, and you dropped your shoulders while making an over exasperated sigh. That wasn’t what you meant.

“Ugh, Hanni, I don’t mean it like that.” He turns his attention back to you, before flashing it toward the whiskey bottle. “I mean... what if even when I come home… we don’t have time for each other? We don’t get to see each other. You’re going to be working, going to school, and eventually you’re going to fall in love and have a partner. Same for me too.”

“I’m not sure how that sounds any different than your previous statement,” Jeonghan mumbled this, pushing his lip out in a pout. Reaching out, he caught a tear falling with his thumb, only to yank his hand away and shake it like he touched lava. This did what he wanted it to, which was to laugh.

“Hanni…”

“It’s okay. I forgive you for hurting my feelings. This is a hard time for us both,” There was so much honesty to his words, it was also written all over his face. He was trying to not think about the inevitable, which was you were leaving. Not the forever he had declared, but it was still hard. “It’s not just you losing something, I’m losing my best friend. My partner in crime. Who am I going to get into mischief with? Joshua?”

“I mean… at least he’ll keep you from getting arrested.”

“If he’s not too busy fucking anything that will let him.” Jeonghan rolled his eyes, “But I’m serious. You’re not the only one who loses something in this. Except I’m not accepting that this is it, because it’s not.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Of course I do, I’m Yoon fucking Jeonghan. I can bend the will of others with a flick of my wrist, and this will bend to my will.” You still don’t look convinced, and he clicks his tongue before speaking again, “How about this? If life takes us on different paths that separate us further, then the year we turn thirty-one, we meet again. You and me… and any husbands, wives, fiancés, life partners or children we may have. Somewhere nice, somewhere where our busy lives can’t touch us. Where we can catch up, and remember that it’s always been us, and it will always be us.”

“Really?”

“Yes, now ask me what will happen if life doesn’t do that.” He smirks, and you giggle.

“What will happen if life doesn’t?”

“Then we do it still!” He announced throwing his arms up, before one found its way over your shoulder. “No matter what, no matter where life takes us, we meet the year we turn thirty-one.”

“Why thirty-one though?”

“Because it’s too cliché to meet when we turn thirty. Goodness, this isn’t one of those romance movies you make me watch.” He gave you a brief squeeze before getting up to grab the whiskey bottle. “So, what you say?”

“I can easily argue that the last three romances we watched was because of you, not me.” Jeonghan sat back down next to you, the bottle in his hand, but it remained unopen. His attention was on you, his eyes watching you as you try to find the words. Every part of him told you that he was serious about this, and it helped ease an ache that was building in you. “And let’s do it.”

“Perfect. Now let’s drink to the future.”

A week later, you were clinging to him at the airport as your grandfather got your luggage together. This time tears weren’t holding back, Jeonghan wasn’t able to say anything to help because he was busy fighting his own. Instead, he just held you as you gripped at the offensive SpongeBob shirt he was wearing, soaking it with not just your tears, but the mascara and eyeliner you had thickly drawn on. Only to have it cried away telling your best friend goodbye for now.

“Hey,” Jeonghan’s voice was soft when he pulled back, making you look at him. His eyes were shining, and red. Evidence that he’d been crying, though you knew he’d insist he’s actually high, and it nearly broke you. “Remember what I said. The year we turn thirty-one.”

You nodded, and he gives you a soft smile.

“I’ll send you the details, so make sure you have the entire year free.” He teased and you let out a soft laugh before jumping from him, pinching you. You break away from his grasp to hit his shoulder. This earned a soft laugh from you, your eyes dropping to the angel wing necklace that still rested around his neck.

“I’ll be sure to have all my information changed by then.” You laughed, and he pinched your side again. Your name then came from behind you both, your grandparents calling to you. It was time to go. Looking back at Jeonghan, you gave him a watery smile, “I’m going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too,” This was the first time his voice finally cracked, and a tear started to fall. It was real. It was happening.

“I’ll text you when I land.”

“You better.” He teased. “I will see you again.”

“See you again.”

**A year ago**

Your phone chimed right as you were cooking dinner, cutting off the music playing briefly, but you weren’t able to stop what you were doing to look. Too focused on making sure that you didn’t burn anything, but the couple that was in the kitchen with you noticed.

“Need me to check that?” You heard Celeste ask, and you looked over your shoulder, to her and Soonyoung grabbing the plates and cutlery for the table.

“No, it’s okay. I can check it later,” You waved her off, “Dinners ready, and we have a proposal to go over.”

“I thought there was no work talk at dinner?” Soonyoung teased, making you shoot your friend and co-owner a look, only to earn a playful wink back. He then turned to his fiancé with a smile, “If we’re working while we eat, you might as well open two bottles. One for us and one just for her.”

“Watch it Kwon, or I’ll run this company with Celeste instead” You warned him, grateful that Celeste was already stepping in to grab his collar to drag him out of the kitchen with everything to arrange at the table.

Twenty minutes later, the three of you were sitting around the table, two wine bottles open with one in front of you and one between the couple. You all were talking animatedly about the proposal that you and Soonyoung were putting together, hoping that the potential investor takes on your ideas and help launch your small business globally. Soonyoung had been right to have your own bottle open; it helped ease the tension that was building in your shoulders over all this, and there were more laughs than not.

“I think we should add some tiger imagery to the presentation; you think we can do that?” Soonyoung suggested a wine glass coming up to his lips, only for it to be stopped by his fiancé. He looks at her with confusion as she only shook her head. Celeste supported his love for tigers, but even she knew when to draw the line.

“I should hire you as our creative director,” You joked, tipping your own wine glass in her direction. “You can save me from a lot of tiger themed merchandise and advertising.”

“I love you, but if I took that, I probably would be canceling the wedding instead of planning a honeymoon,” Celeste laughed, and Soonyoung looked offended. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I know how you are when you’re working. We met at work, remember?”

“Of course, I do. I barely was able to focus at meetings because all I wanted to do was look at you,” You actively rolled your eyes as the couple stared at each other like they hung the sun and the moon for each other, and it reminded you just how single you have been for the last few years. Happily single, but not when you were around these two being so sickeningly in love.

“Gag me.” You muttered making the two look at you. Celeste playfully stuck her tongue at you, and Soonyoung pretended to growl. That was when you knew that you had lost them both to being lovey toward each other. You took this chance to check your phone, remembering it had gone off while you were cooking.

It was a message. From Jeonghan.

Your eyes widened as your fingers tightened around the stem of your glass, or you were going to drop it onto the table and spill wine all over the place. Casting your eyes up, you were relieved to see your two friends were still too busy staring at each other to notice your reaction.

You and him hadn’t really spoken in nearly six years, not since you came home for your grandfather’s funeral. Of course, you would wish each other a happy birthday, send the occasional meme, or a quick hello, but other than that, you barely spoke. You didn’t want to admit that it was hard for you to respond because it made you want to go back to being that eighteen-year-old again.

But you knew what this was about. You had turned thirty recently, and his thirtieth was a few months away, which meant that the promise the two of you had made at eighteen, smoking and drinking in that abandoned shed, was also coming due. And he was reaching out to solidify the plans.

You should’ve waited to read and respond after your friends left, when you had time to yourself, but you didn’t. Clicking the notification, you unlocked the phone to read the message. Only to find it was confirmation for your plane tickets, and a set of dates. The first week of April next year, and for a week.

Back home. Where you hadn’t stepped foot in nearly six years.

A few more messages had followed.

Jeonghan: Told you to keep your schedule open. Jeonghan: See you in April, bug.

**two days before**

You might’ve been overthinking it. No, you were overthinking this as you stared at an empty suitcase, piles of clothes folded around it on your bed, bags of new clothes at the foot of the bed, and your toiletries all laid out on your bathroom counter. All waiting to be packed.

None of your clothes had felt right, the makeup you chose to bring felt too plain, and your nerves were starting to suffocate you. A part of you felt like you shouldn’t feel this nervous, because it was just Jeonghan, but another part felt you were justified because it was Jeonghan. You hadn’t seen him in person since your grandfather’s funeral, only ever seeing his life through photos that he posted online.

Picture of him traveling with Joshua, and with your other friends, and relationships that never seemed to last a few months before the person disappeared from his photos. You watched his success in becoming a pharmacist like he had always wanted and was making a life for himself. He owned his own home, and he appeared happy with his life.

You had done the same, but away from him. You made a life where you now were, and selfishly barely looked back; especially after your grandfather had passed. You made friends where you were, had relationships, started a business with Soonyoung, and you made a life for yourself. You had become a different person, like he had.

This fact wasn’t the only thing that had your nerves starting to settle uneasy in your gut. You were both different, and what if that difference was so great that neither of you could enjoy your time together again. Uncomfortable strangers the entire week instead of old friends looking to reconnect.Not only that, but what if also being back home made it worse? That being there was more painful than it should be, and it made you resent your oldest friend for bringing you back?

Then your phone chimed, with a message coming through.

Jeonghan: See you when you land. Jeonghan: And stop overthinking things. I can hear your thoughts all the way over here. Haha.

That made you burst out in a laugh, because of course this silly line he used to say to you growing up would help loosen some tightness in you. It didn’t settle your nerves though, it only unraveled them, so they weren’t making you want to throw up and cry at the same time.

You responded.

You: Too late, so deal with it.

His response was instantaneous.

Jeonghan: Gladly.

**April**

You swore this entire journey had been one big April Fool’s joke with the way everything had gone wrong. You managed to finally pack everything, though you still weren’t happy with your choices you couldn’t just go naked, but you overslept the morning of your flight. The ride you had ordered was canceled at the last minute, making you late to the airport and nearly missed boarding.

Checking in had been a nightmare, and then there was a delay taking off.

When the plane did finally set off, you thought you would be in the clear for now. It would be smooth flying after this, and the bad luck got itself out of the way now than following you the entire trip. You hoped that the long flight will go well and give you a chance to rest, or Jeonghan was going to see you have an absolute crash out over it all.

You managed to get enough sleep, so you weren’t as cranky when you landed, but it left you feeling stiff. You even tried to stretch some before unboarding, but it and the awkward shuffling didn’t help. Gripping at your carryon, your focus was to get your suitcase and out of the airport. There’s a bed somewhere calling to you, and you were ready to meet the call.

With your suitcase now secured, you checked your phone to see if Jeonghan was there yet after insisting on picking you up instead of ordering a ride. Except when you looked around the semi-crowded airport, you didn’t see him anywhere. There was no sight of the famous Jeonghan smirk, no sign being dramatically held up with your name, or anything like that.

Your phone started to ring in your hands.  

“Where are you?” You answered, pressing the device to your ear and skipping any and all pleasantries. This earned a chuckle on the other side, and your eyes immediately narrowed. Even with the time apart, you knew never to trust that chuckle.

“About that…” He started slowly, showing you were right not to trust it. There was no way he was going to try and fuck with you, but you should’ve known better, “I am running late, car troubles, won’t be there for a few hours. You’re going to have to wait until I get there.”

“Yoon Jeonghan…” You took in a slow breath, trying to fight the annoyance that was bubbling under the surface. No, he wasn’t going to do this to you after the trip you’ve just had, “You better not be fucking with me right now.”

“I wish, I could say I was,” There was a sigh to his voice, but before you could let him have it, he continued, “I am very sorry, bug. I wish I was there to see you right now. With your hair an absolute mess, your sweater falling off you, and the way you are pouting right now. It’s so cute.”

“Huh?” You blinked, looking down at your body. Your sweater had fallen from your shoulders and was resting right at your elbows while strands of your hair escaped the loose ponytail you had put up. How the hell did he know if he wasn’t there? Before you could question it, you felt a light tap on your shoulder. Twisting around, Jeonghan was standing there.

The phone still pressed to his ear, eyes shining with excitement and mischief, and that smirk that you once knew oh so well. His hair was shorter than the last time you seen him with it back to his natural dark brown. He was in a simple black t-shirt with a matching jacket and a pair of white pants, and you couldn’t stop the way your heart skipped at the sight of him.

“April Fool’s. Forgive me?” He teased, barely able to hang up the call before you were throwing your arms around his neck for a hug. The force of you jumping into him made Jeonghan stumble back slightly, but once he was able to catch his footing, his arms wrapped around your waist.

He pulled you so close your body was pressed against his like he had been desperate for this moment, but you were no better. Nuzzling your nose into his shirt, taking in the scent of his perfume and the way he held you tight. His own nose pressed to your hair, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume and shampoo, fingers flexing and squeezing gently at your sides.

Both of you forgot that you were still in the middle of the airport.

“You asshole!” You finally bursted out when the two of you parted, slapping his arm while he laughed at you attempting to scold him. He saw the smile forming over your lips, making the smirk he was wearing turn into a genuine smile. One that nearly stole the very breath from you, “That wasn’t funny.”

“It was a little funny.” He still hadn’t let go of you, his hands resting on your hips like they always belonged there, his gaze drinking you in. Then he stepped back, withdrawing his hold on you to reach for your suitcase handle, “Now, let’s get out of here before you shove me into the cargo hold of one of these planes.”

“You would deserve it,” You retorted earning an eye roll from him. One hand placed firmly against the small of your back, and the other pulling your suitcase behind you. With cool precision, Jeonghan directed you out of the airport while chatting with you about his day and asking you about your flight.

Like it was all part of a daily conversation you would always have, and there was no time between your last full conversation that wasn’t in text.

“After you,” Jeonghan announced, making sure to open the passenger door for you while providing an overexaggerated bow that made you playfully swat his shoulder. A giggle escaped you as you got into the car, while he finished putting your suitcase in the back. Settling into the driver’s seat, he flashed you a lazy smile and you missed the way his hand twitched slightly to reach for yours. Instead he put the car into drive. “Let’s get out of here.”

“You know, you never told me where I was staying.” You told him, your eyes watching the way the town looked now. Businesses that were once there on the main street gone, replaced with franchise stores and popular food spots. Places that you once occupied with your friends or grandparents gone, showing that the town was growing and changing like you had.

It didn’t feel like your old home, but there was still something about it that told you it was. Just with a different look.

“Easy. With me.” He said with no hesitation, making you look at him. He had a pair of black sunglasses on, leaning back against the driver’s seat with one hand on the wheel while the other rested on his lap. Looking relaxed as he drove through the familiar streets. Stopping at a light, he cast a glance your way and you weren’t sure, but you thought that his relaxed smile faltered slightly. “Rather get a room? The old motel is still open, but you might have to cuddle with some roaches and a few rats.”

“I think I am good on that,” You don’t hide your look of disgust, and this made Jeonghan start laughing as the light turned. “I would like the bed I sleep on be free of other occupants.”

“Is that so?” He muttered, his focus on the road letting silence fall over you. The radio was playing quietly, and you started to notice the familiar names of the streets.

They were the same names you would see every day growing up, the same streets you used to run around growing up. You chance a glance toward Jeonghan, only to find his focus on the road but the look on his face told you that he was waiting for your reaction.

Especially once he turned on the familiar street that the two of you grew up on.

“I knew you moved close to family, but I didn’t know you…” The words stopped in your throat when you pulled up to a beautiful home. It looked newer compared to the others on the street. White with grey trimming and a neatly cut yard with a stone pathway that lead right up to a small porch with a planter next to the door.

It was beautiful and unfamiliar, but you knew this property. It didn’t matter how long it had been since you came back; you knew exactly where you were.

“Come on, bug. Let’s get inside.” Jeonghan didn’t give you a chance to process your thoughts before he was shutting off the engine and unbuckle both of your belts. He was out of the car, leaving you there staring at the empty seat that he had once occupied.

It was the sound of the trunk closing that you were able to kick start back up and rushed to get out the car to follow him up the small pathway to the front door. Your heart was pounding in your ears, eyes wide staring at the home and Jeonghan’s back.

Once inside, you didn’t stop to look around the home, instead your feet took you from the front door, through the open living room to a set of glass doors. If Jeonghan had said something to you, you didn’t hear it because your focus was getting to the backyard. You barely looked around the yard itself, just that it was well taken care of.

No, your focus was on the shed that was in the same familiar place. You could feel tears starting to burn your eyes, memories flooding back to you, your eyes flicking over to the fence that once had a broken board. It was fixed with forsythias and azaleas flourishing in front of it, but you could still see a young Jeonghan popping through it while you waited for him at the shed.

“It’s not the same one.” Jeonghan said softly behind you, but you didn’t look back, not wanting him to see a few tears fall. “The old owners finally sold the property four years ago to a realtor company. They rebuilt the house and tore down it before putting the place back on the market.”

“And you bought it.” You responded, finally looking at him. He had his hands in his pants pockets, balancing on the balls on his feet, while his eyes were on you, catching more tears starting to fall.

“Yeah, well, with the help from my parents. With conditions obviously,” Jeonghan continued, keeping his attention on you, “Moment I moved in, I had the shed put back in. It’s used to actually store shit, not a hang out like we used to have it, but just something didn’t feel right without it there.”

“What was the conditions?” You asked in a small voice, trying to wipe away the wetness from your face, when Jeonghan caught your elbow. Pulling you into a hug, he let out a soft tsk.

“Let’s not worry about that right now.” It was a clear deflection, but he wouldn’t let you wiggle away from him to call him out. Then his hands found its way to your sides and started to tickle you.

“Jeonghan!” You let out a small squeal, giggling while trying to get away from him. His own laughter mixed through yours in a sweet melody, helping you forget your tears.

“Come on, let me show you to your room.” His arm thrown lazily over your shoulder, directing you back toward the house. “And no roaches or rats to cuddle with.”

Jeonghan gave you a brief tour of his home, a kitchen and living room open floor style. Three bedrooms, the larger one with an ensuite on one side, while the two smaller ones with a Jack n Jill style on the other. Your room faced the yard, giving you perfect view of the shed, while Jeonghan had the larger room.

He left you to unpack and get cleaned up from your travels. The shower felt good, hot water helping you loosen the still sore muscles from your long flight and fight off the fatigue that you didn’t know was creeping up on you. By the time you had gotten out, your skin felt flushed from the heat with your hands and feet slightly wrinkled. The towel Jeonghan had left out was dark grey, soft and fluffy and felt like heaven against your skin.

It felt good to be out of your airport clothes and in a soft pair of leggings and oversized t-shirt. Your hair was still slightly damp, so you left it loose around your bare face Now that you were back around Jeonghan, the nerves you were feeling all but melted away and didn’t feel like you needed to look all done up just to lounge around the house.

“Hope you’re hungry.” He announced proudly when you finally emerged, setting two beer bottles on the table with a spread of take out. He wasn’t looking your way. “You took so long I managed to make us a feast.”

“Make us a feast huh?” You laughed, crossing your arms as you take in the sight before you. “Wanted to make sure it was authentically homemade by including the plastic containers?”

“I mean, only the best for…” His words died on his tongue as he went to look at you, his hand slowly dropping to his side. There was a flicker of awe and desire that went across his face before he shook his head, and it was replaced with a smirk. “…you...”

“I feel so honored,” You went to pull out of the chairs to sit, but Jeonghan had beat you to it by pulling it out for you instead, before taking a seat next to you, focusing on the containers. Grabbing both beers, you popped them open with ease and set them down in front of you both.

Dinner consisted of the two of you stuffing your faces, battling over the last pieces of meat, which he won by cheating at rock, paper, scissors. You drank several beers between you each while talking about work, friends, family, and life. You told him about meeting Celeste in college then later Soonyoung through her, the jewelry business that you and him thought up after too many bottles of wine, how it actually was doing well, and the couple’s upcoming wedding.

While Jeonghan told you about college, the trouble him and their friends got into, updated you on his parents and sister, and about the pharmacy he works at with Joshua. You laughed over stories, and it felt like no time had passed between you.

“What about relationships?” Jeonghan asked, leaning back in his chair with a beer close to his lips, watching the way you swirled your beer around in the bottle. “Anyone special?”

“Just a vibrator named Owini with two I’s.” This made Jeonghan raise a brow as he took a sip. “O.W.I.N.I. Orgasm when I need it.”

“Clever.” He coughed out after nearly choking on his beer, laughing at the name.

“What about you? Anyone in your life?” It was your turn to watch him, trying to gauge his reaction. Jeonghan was leaning back against the chair, looking forward with a half-smile playing over his lips.

“No one special. At least not for a long time.” He answered finally, finishing his beer with a smack to his lips. Licking them, he sat the beer down onto the table before standing and stretched. He ignores the confused expression on your face with his sudden movements, “Let’s get this all cleaned up bug and have a few more beers. Maybe watch a movie or something.”

You nod your head slowly, following suit to help throw away the empty containers and put away anything that you two didn’t finish. When you were done, Jeonghan grabbed a few more beers from the fridge and met you at the sofa to find something to watch. Picking some random movie that you couldn’t remember the name, both of you talked and laughed until all the beers were empty and Jeonghan was half asleep on the sofa.

**Day 2**

“Oh, it is so good to see you sweetie!” Jeonghan’s mother wouldn’t let go of you, hugging you tightly as if you were going to disappear on her if she did. The next day the two of you had gone to his parents’ for lunch on his mother’s insistence, “I missed you, my dear.”

“I missed you too,” You answered, giving Jeonghan a ‘save me’ look when she didn’t let go, only for him he didn’t come to save you, instead just watched with mild amusement from his place against the kitchen counter. Releasing you from the hug, she grasped your shoulders to look at you, making you turn your gaze back to her.

“You should not stay away so long,” She scolded, leaning forward like she was revealing a secret, “Our Hanni has not been the same since the last time you left.”

“Oh…” You let out a nervous laugh, looking back toward Jeonghan with a questioning gaze, but he was no longer looking at you. Instead, he was staring warning daggers into his mother’s back. It reminded you how he wouldn’t look at you the previous night either, but before you could say anything further, you were being lead to a table full of food.

“Sit, sit. I hope you are hungry, I made all of your favorites.” You were then gently pushed into a seat, with Jeonghan following and took a seat next to you, “Oh goodness, I forgot drinks. Let me grab those.”

“I told her not to do all this, but she insisted,” Jeonghan had muttered so only you could hear.

“I believe it,” You responded back, leaning toward him with a raised brow, “What did she mean by you haven’t been the same?”

“Nothing, just missed my best friend is all,” He answered simply. For a brief moment you thought his gaze dropped to your lips before he looked away to speak with his mother. Changing the subject all together as well.

The rest of the visit had consisted of more catching up, with Jeonghan’s father and sister coming by to join in, but you were barely able to pay attention. You couldn’t stop looking over toward Jeonghan, feeling that there was something more than ‘he just missed his best friend’.  Like true Jeonghan fashion, he didn’t give anything away.

There was a possibility that you might be looking too much into it, reminding yourself that before you left for college, the two of you were with each other every day, and were inseparable. Hell, every time you came home, you and Jeonghan would always be together. Then after your grandfather passed away, you just… stopped coming back.

It wasn’t that you had wanted to stay away, it just was harder to come back now that both your grandparents were gone. It was hard to come back when you no longer would walk into the home you grew up to them, and life just kept getting into the way. Work ended up taking precedence since you and Soonyoung were focused on your jewelry company, finding the time off had grew harder, or whatever excuse you gave to make yourself feel better for not coming back.

You had known that it had affected Jeonghan, going from having his best friend every day to a few times a year to sparse messages and social media posts, but you didn’t think that meant ‘he hasn’t been the same’.

After leaving the Yoons’, you went with him to run a few errands that he’d needed to run, and the entire time you still had his mother’s words playing in your head. Which he noticed, but like him, you wouldn’t give anything away, giving the excuse you were just in a food coma.

“I don’t believe you, just so you know.” He told you, pushing up his sunglasses with one finger while his other hand rested on the steering wheel. Casting a glance toward you, he noticed that you were looking out the passenger window. “You can keep your secrets for now, but I will get them out of you. I always do.”

“I can say the same for you.” You chirped back, your eyes on the different buildings passing by, taking in the different buildings. Some familiar, some different. You could hear him let out a breathy laugh. “You have your secrets, and I have mine. If I have to spill so will you.”

“Touche, bug.”

Once back to Jeonghan’s, you disappeared into your room to answer some emails and make a few calls for work. You may have been on a trip, but that didn’t mean that you were truly on vacation, and the workload never ends. Soonyoung was a great business partner and assured you that he had it all handled so you can enjoy your time away (since you would be doing the same when he and Celeste went on their honeymoon), but you needed a bit of a distraction.

“You hungry?” Jeonghan had asked at one point, knocking at your door as he opened it. A smile playing over his lips seeing you sitting cross legged on your bed, laptop open in front of you. You had changed into a pair of comfortable shorts and a baggy sweater, your hair pulled back out of your face (save for a strand that wouldn’t stay) and look of concentration on your face.

You didn’t hear the hitch in his breath when you looked up at him, that look of concentration melt away to a small smile as you shook your head.

“I’m still full from that feast your mom made us,” You answered with a laugh, looking back to the laptop and to the email you had been working on. “I’m almost done here, just need to send off a few more emails, and then call Soonyoung regarding a large order of smokey quartz for our Smokey collection. I shouldn’t be too much longer.”

“You do know the whole point of this trip was to also not worry about work?” Jeonghan teased, making his way to the bed and flopped down onto the empty space next to you. Rolling onto his side, he looked up at you with his dark round eyes, shining with mischief with his hand inching toward the laptop to shut. Which you reached out and took with yours, holding it as you placed it back onto the bed. Making him pout.

“I am almost done, I promise.” You told him, not expecting the sudden urge to lean forward to kiss the pout he was sporting, nor the way you were still holding his hand. Or that he had adjusted the hold so that your fingers were laced together.

“Well, when you’re done, I’ll be right here.” He responded, finally letting go of your hand to roll onto his back, pulling his phone out to scroll. You raised your brow at him, he didn’t even look your way when he added, “Don’t look at me like that. I’m lonely out there and you’re in here working.”

“Price to pay on owning your own business.”

Though you did manage to get some work done, you couldn’t really concentrate with Jeonghan lying next to you, now fast asleep with his phone resting face down on his chest. The soft clicking of your fingers against the keys had lulled him into a sleep and you found yourself watching him several times. Taking in the way he still looked like the boy you had grown up with, only older. Thick lashes kissing his skin, skin still smooth but with the hints of age coming through. The lips that were pouting at you earlier, soft and plush looking, partially open with a soft snore leaving him. He looked peaceful, he looked breathtaking, he looked like he was where he was meant to be. Next to you. Your Jeonghan.

Your heart fluttered at this notion, the words your Jeonghan felt different even in your head. Or was it always this way and you just ignored it since he was your best friend.

When you finished your emails and came time to call Soonyoung, you chose to take it outside to not disturb the sleeping man next to you. You also wanted to enjoy the evening weather, finding yourself sitting on the step of the shed to take your call and maybe clear your head some.

The shed wasn’t the same, but the memories were still there when you sat down on the newer wood. The years you and Jeonghan spent in the old rickety building that once stood there, doing things that looking back neither of you had any business doing as teenagers. Drinking, smoking, and everything else that came with being rebellious teens and too much freedom to do it all.

It shaped who you both were as adults, and still a part of who you were. Even if you tried to run away.

“There you are.” Jeonghan’s tired voice had pulled you from your thoughts and tore your gaze from a patch in the grass to him. His face slightly puffy from sleep, and a yawn escaping him as he made his way to you before flashing you a lazy half grin. “Was wondering where you went.”

“I had to call Soonyoung and you were snoring. I didn’t want to wake you or have him questioning if I was next to a walrus.” You teased, unable to stop the corners up your lips to twitch up, earning a chuckle from the slender man.

“So, kind of you.” He muttered reaching you, leaning against the wall of the shed. The sun had already dropped past the horizon, but there was still a glow to the yard, emphasizing the shadows and adding a hauntingly beautiful look to the spring evening. “Clocked out now?”

“I’m always clocked in.” This made him chuckle, before slipping into his pocket to pull out a lighter and a joint. With the rolled herb between his lips, he lit it with the lighter. Taking a deep inhale, you watched him blow the smoke out. Looking your way, he offered it.

“You still smoke?” He asked, and you looked at the joint then back to his face. A brow raised, “Vernon managed to find some for me. I haven’t smoked since the last time you were here…”

“I actually quit myself,” You told him reaching out to take the burning herb and took a hit of it. The paper was damp from his lips, and the smoke felt harsher than it had in the past, making you cough out the cloud of smoke instead of inhaling it. You managed to take another pull from it, filling your lung with the herbal smoke. Allowing the head change take effect.

A silence followed, just the two of you passing the joint between you. Leaning back, your eyes went up toward the sky to take in the darkening sky as the stars start to appear. While Jeonghan just watched you.

“What did you mom mean?” You asked softly, after a few minutes of feeling his gaze and the joint passing between you. Looking down at the nearly finished joint, now a roach at this point, flicking some ash handing off it. “How weren’t you the same?”

“Were you?” He returned your question with one of his own, reaching for what was left of the joint. You let out a scoff.

“Of course I wasn’t. I lost both my grandparents within a year of each other, had to watch my uncle stick that stupid for sale sign in the ground before the dirt settle so he could pay his debts…” You waved your hand in the air at nothing, before dropping it into your lap. Pushing your tongue into your cheek, you continued. “I was hurting, I was angry at my uncle, I felt like I had nothing here that was mine anymore, and I just wanted to run away.” You took a breath, closing your eyes to hold back the angry tears that were prickling behind them. Remembering that feeling ruined your high. “I left already not the same, but how were you?”

Jeonghan didn’t respond for a moment, the flick of the lighter making you look toward him to find that a second joint appeared and was lighting it. He took a quick inhale of the sweet herb, before handing it to you.

“You need this more than I do,” He muttered as you took it, making you tempted to throw it at him and tell him to go fuck himself, but you stopped yourself. He looked up toward the sky, crossing his arms and you took in how he looked. His baggy jeans, and a shirt that had enough room for the both of you, hair sticking up from sleeping in your bed, and a pair of wired glasses. Ones he had to of thrown on after waking up.

You were slow to take a hit of the herb, watching him carefully.

“You had me.” He finally said, not answering your question. It should’ve infuriated you and call him out if you didn’t look so confused. Licking his lips, he looked at you before repeating himself. “You had me here still. I thought I was home for you too.”

Maybe he was answering after all, in his own cryptic way.

“You were… you are…” You told him, before sighing, “I don’t regret how long I’ve been gone, but I do regret not keeping in touch better with you. I should’ve tried better for that.”

“Maybe, but you’re here now.” Jeonghan leaned forward and took the joint from you. “I plan to make sure you remember that you’re home with me.”

You watched as the joint pressed between his lips, the way his eyes closed slightly as he took a hit, unable to tear your gaze away. Slowly his eyes opened and you could see there was a sign of mischief there. Hiding away the vulnerableness that he’d been displaying. You watch the way his own gaze dropped to your lips then back to your eyes, blowing the smoke gently from the side of his mouth.

“Why do I feel like you are trying to make me fall in love with you?” You asked, meaning for it to be a tease but it came out breathier then you meant. Part of you thinking he might kiss you, but instead he let out a laugh, leaning back against the shed wall. Like nothing happened.

“Who knows, maybe I am.”

**Day 3**

To say you didn’t really do anything was a bit of an understatement. There has been no plans for the day, aside from the plans to meet friends later, so you just laid around. Collecting your energy for a night out drinking and spending time with old friends. Well, at this point they felt more like Jeonghan’s friends rather than your own, but he had insisted that wasn’t the case. That everyone missed you and were excited to see you again.

Jeonghan also continued on the day like the previous night didn’t happen, as if he didn’t look at you like he wanted to kiss you, or ‘joke’ about you falling in love with him. He just laid around with you, bugging you at random times about how bored he was, but wouldn’t get up to do anything. He would whine about how warm you were, but he seemed to scoot closer instead of away.

He would random poke you if you weren’t paying attention to him, complain about anything you turned on, but refused to choose anything. And the entire time used his pouty voice if you snapped at him.

 “That’s it!” You growled out, grabbing the hand that attempted to pull a strand of hair falling into your face, distracting you so his other hand could tickle at your side. With his fingers brushing against the bare skin of your tank that had ridden up, making you jolt and grab that hand as well. Wrestling to get him to stop.

You’d forgotten that Jeonghan was a lot stronger than he looked, and could easily break your hold, but instead he was letting you think you were overpowering him. Filling the room with laugher, and in your wrestle, you found yourself straddling him.

Then you both froze, realizing how close you were. The tips of your noses brushing, both breathing heavy from the exertion, eyes locked with a new emotion coursing through you. Deeper than desire. Your hold then loosened on his wrists.

Now this wasn’t the first time you had ended up like this, you had many times in the past wrestling with each other. You’d done it since you were kids, with it always ending with you both laughing and unable to keep annoying the other.

This time…this time it was all different.

Your name fell from his lips before you were kissing him, which Jeonghan didn’t hesitate to return. His hands dropped down to your waist, pulling you closer until your chest was flushed against each other. A whimper left you at the desperation that flooded him, his tongue sliding over your bottom lip, wanting more—which you willing gave him.

His lips felt like heaven against yours, and the way his tongue teased yours it left you needing more of him. More and more. Your fingers pushing through his soft strands, while his dug into your hips to pulling them down to grind on him. Feeling him already hardening underneath the soft grey fabric of his sweats, making you grow hot with need and dampen your underwear.

Then you broke from the kiss, staring at your best friend in shock while he stared at you with desperate need in his heavy lidded eyes. His bottom lip swollen from your kiss, hands still holding onto your hips like a vice, and his arousal pressing against you. With your own body ablaze with the same need right down to your core.

“I…” You scrambled off him to stand, “I… we shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry… I… I need to get ready for tonight.”

Before Jeonghan could answer or stop you, you were already rushing to your room. Slamming the door behind you as you went, leaving him to stare at the space where you had been standing. Licking his lips, he slammed his fist onto the sofa cushion in frustration but stopped the frustrated groan that wanted to escape. Standing, he took off toward his room.

The ordered ride to the bar was an awkward one, with neither of you would speak or look at each other. You on one side of the backseat, playing with the pockets of your cargo pants before readjusting your tank and cardigan, the fabric not feeling like they fit right. While Jeonghan sat on the other side, looking out the window while his own hands were balled into fists on his lap.

The kiss hung between you, leaving you unsure how to approach it while Jeonghan was just unreadable. There’d been moments you thought he was angry with you, others he seemed frustrated, and then finally he appeared…sad. It ate at you, making it even harder to find the words.

The sound that erupted from the group when you entered the bar was almost deafening, and making others look your way. You were then showered with hugs, first by the girls and followed by Seungcheol, Vernon, and Joshua. Jeonghan had disappeared to the bar, leaving you to greet everyone.

“It’s been way to long,” Eunji couldn’t stop saying, hugging you for what felt like the nth time, “I thought you weren’t ever coming back.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I just… needed to be away.” You answered, when she finally let go of you for good, but that was because her fiancé, Vernon, had pulled her back to his side.

“No need to explain to us. We understand.” It was Vernon who spoke up, a finger wrapped through a hoop of Eunji’s pants, keeping her in place. “What matters is that you’re back.”

“And me missing you all matters too, ya know?” You pointed out with a teasing smile, when a cold glass of beer was pushed into your hands, making you look up to see Jeonghan had rejoined the group. He didn’t look at you, instead moving to Seungcheol and Joshua, leaving the others to surround you. Looking down at the beer, you hoped that your friends didn’t pick up the tension between you. Which by the silence and looks everyone was giving each other, you knew better.

You could see the way Eunji was about to open her mouth, only for her fiancé’s hand conveniently found its place over it. Minnie, who had been waiting for her moment to give you a proper hug, gave you a questioning gaze, while Seungcheol, Joshua, and Joshua’s wife looked at Jeonghan.

“I see one thing hasn’t changed,” Minnie had murmured into your ear, taking the beer so she could get an actual hug from you, “We are going to be talking about this.”

As the night went on, the tension between you and Jeonghan had loosened with him eventually finding his way back to your side. Arm thrown over your shoulder, like he hadn’t been giving you the cold shoulder since running from him and the kiss you shared, as he talked and laughed with everyone. Poking, teasing, and smiling at you like you hadn’t just rejected him in one of the worst ways possible.

It had helped you relax outwardly, joining in with the talking, teasing, even leaning into him and his touch. It was easy to do, even with the tension burning between you, it was easy to lean into his warmth like he would you. Except inwardly, you had a war raging on. One that involved the very man you were leaning into.

“I’m going for a cigarette.” Minnie announced, lifting Seungcheol’s hand off her knee to stand, grabbing her designer bag in the process, “Who’s coming with me?”

“I will,” Eunji practically jumped out of her seat, looking around the table for anyone else, both of them stopping briefly on you and Lily, Joshua’s wife. Subtly hinting that you were to join them.

“I have to pass. I been trying to quit, and don’t want to be tempted, sorry.” Lily answered, sipping at the bright blue cocktail she had ordered.

“Never apologize for that. You got more will power than I do,” Minnie waved her hand, her eyes going back to you, “Anyone else?”

“I’ll go,” You announce, standing with Jeonghan’s arm falling from your shoulder as you did. Making him look at you with a confused expression, “Just need a bit of fresh air. I’ll be back.”

You barely make it out of the bar before you were being cornered by the two women.

“Okay, spill.” Eunji demanded as Minnie pulled out a pack of cigarettes, grabbing two and a lighter from the box. One for each woman.

“What are you talking about?” You attempted to feign ignorance, but it was clear the two didn’t buy it. The three of you were very close growing up, they witnessed how you and Jeonghan were, and still knew you better than you realized.

“Either one of three things is going on here. You two either have nothing to talk about, and it’s awkward as shit…” Minnie responded, placing the cigarette to her lips and lit it.

“Which is impossible with you two,” Eunji chimed in, taking the lighter from Minnie to light her own. “No matter how many years have passed.”

“You got into a stupid fight over something like the color of his socks, or…” Minnie walked closer, holding the cigarette out enough so the smoke wasn’t hitting your face, taking in how you crossed your arms and looked away. Leaning in, it felt like the last one was more of a secret, “Something happened between the two of you…”

“And you were the one to freak out.” Eunji finished for her, “And now it’s awkward.”

“Why would it be me?”

“Because it’s always you.” Vernon’s voice popped up behind you, causing the three of you to jump. He casually walks past you to Eunji, taking his cigarette in the process to take a drag, “I had a feeling they were doing that weird best friend gang up thing.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You answer, feeling your cheeks starting to burn.

“They kissed,” Vernon took another long drag of the nicotine stick, causing your jaw to drop opened, “Jeonghan told us in there.”

“Of course he did,” You muttered, watching the way Eunji and Minnie were ready to start jumping for joy.

“Finally?!” Eunji asked with excitement, but from the look on Vernon’s face, as well as yours, that Jeonghan didn’t stop there. Flicking the ash off the cigarette, the younger man took one more drag before handing it back to his fiancé.

“And that you freaked out and ran.”

“I didn’t run, I didn’t even leave the house.” You tried to defend yourself while your two friends excitement started to deflate.

“No, but you locked yourself in your room.” It was times like this that Vernon made you wonder how easy it was to get away with murder. Eunji will be able to find love again, she can move on, and you could disappear. Change your name, live in a small cottage in the middle of nowhere.

“Ugh,” Eunji let out a groan, dropping her head back and shoulders down in frustration. While Minnie could only stare at you, gaze unreadable as she pressed her cigarette to her lips, with one arm crossed her midsection.

“What?” You asked, your own frustration started to bubble over as it slowly started to occur to you that your friends knew something that you didn’t know. Something that Jeonghan clearly was aware of, but not you. Something about you and him. “I kissed him, yes. We were wrestling and it just happened, but it shouldn’t have. It just made things awkward and could just ruin our friendship.” You didn’t mention how much you wanted to do it again but couldn’t risk losing him for good. “What is with this ‘finally’ shit, anyways? Like shouldn’t you guys be worried that this could ruin our already fragile friendship.”

There was a silence as the three looked at each other. Like it dawned on them that you really didn’t know.

“You really don’t know?” It was Minnie who asked, taking another long drag as she moved her gaze to you again, followed by the couple behind her.

“Know what Min?” You sighed, dropping your arms to your sides, but there was something deep in you that told you that you already knew. Something that was sitting inside you for years, and you refused to acknowledge it, because it was easier than to face it.

There was a beat of silence between the four of them, with Eunji focused on her cigarette, Minnie watching you with an almost pitied look, and Vernon pushing his tongue into his cheek. Each of them waiting for the other to either come out with it, or for it to finally dawn on you. For you to finally see it.

“That he’s in love with you…” It was Vernon who said it, since neither of the girls spoke up, then his attention went to Minnie, “You think I can get my own smoke?”

You stood there in absolute silence while a pack of cigarettes exchanged hands, staring at your friends. It wasn’t that you had needed to process this, it wasn’t that at all. Instead, the words reached into your chest, into your heart and pulled out something you already known. Something he was trying to tell you, that he’s been trying to tell you.

“You guys are insane,” You finally spoke, looking away from them, pulling your cardigan around you when a cool breeze hit. “Jeonghan loves me, but he’s not in love with me.”

“Are you saying that to convince us, or convince yourself?” Minnie then asked, taking the pack back, her voice soft and understanding. You didn’t answer, still not looking at her, Vernon or Eunji, not trusting yourself to. “Did Jeonghan tell you what his parents condition was when they helped him buy that house?”

“No…” You had asked Jeonghan at least twice what this condition was, but he wouldn’t answer and would change the subject. Instead of pushing though, you just let him change it, so you didn’t have to actually hear it.

“The condition was that he settle downs like the rest of us,” She continued, and you could feel your mouth go dry, make your stomach churn uncomfortably. Unsure if it was from the alcohol, hearing all this, or both, “Or he would have to pay them back every penny.”

This made you look up to see her smiling at you, with it being as soft as her voice. Minnie flicked the ash off the near finished cigarette, your friends letting you take in what you were being told.

“What does that have to do with me, though?” You asked, feeling like you already knew the answer without it having to be said.

“Because.” Dropping the cigarette onto the ground, the taller woman hooked your arm with hers to walk back to the bar. Leaving Vernon and Eunji to finish their own smokes, “For him, the condition wasn’t just anyone, because to him, it only would be you.”

You’d barely made it back into the bar before Jeonghan had let out an overexaggerated yawn as he announced that he was going to order a ride home. This earned a chorus of groans from everyone, except for you. Your brain was already a buzz from the conversations outside, with the only thing you could do was stare at him. The bill of his hat pulled low, with it and his hair falling over his eyes. There was a deep frown playing over his lips, and body language reading that he no longer wanted to be there.

“You staying?” He asked you, making you blink out of your thoughts, already having his phone out to get a ride ordered. Several pairs of eyes turn to you, waiting for your response. Minnie had found her place back next to Seungcheol, leaning into her boyfriend, watching you with a knowing gaze.

Telling you to go with him.

“Nah, I’m getting tired myself.” You answered, letting out a chuckle, “I honestly am surprised I managed as long as I have. I’ve traded a night out at the bar with a bottle of wine at home, and most times in bed.”

Jeonghan nodded, already having the ride ordered, and the group advanced on you. Hugging you tightly, telling you to keep in touch, and to visit more often. With Minnie hugging you a little longer than everyone.

“Call me tomorrow, okay?” She whispered in your ear, “If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

Neither of you said anything on the ride back to Jeonghan’s, but this time the silence felt different. It wasn’t tense like it was on the way to the bar, it had shifted after being out for a few hours to something that you had a hard time describing. His tired silence, leaning back in the seat with his eyes out the window, watching everything pass by. One hand resting against his head while the other rested between you both.

Beckoning you to take it.

Except you didn’t, with your own gaze looking out the car window as well. Vernon and Minnie’s words heavy in your head.

“He’s in love with you.”

“…because to him, it only would be you.”

“If you don’t plan to return his feelings, then let him down gently.”

They left you with one of two choices by doing this. Finally face what was always between you and talk to Jeonghan, or you run away again. Get the earliest flight you can and leave before Jeonghan could wake up. Continue to run away. Destroy a lifelong friendship, one that you were meant to reconnect during your stay, because you were the coward.

You needed to make a choice. You needed to make one then.

“I’m going to head to bed, I am pretty tired,” Jeonghan announced once back, making sure the door was locked behind you before flicking his gaze to you. Taking you in, while he forced a smile to his lips and another beat of silence followed.

He was waiting for you to say something, anything. It was your chance, you either faced it or you ran away, but words failed you. They failed you in a way that never happened before with him, and it scared you.

“Goodnight, bug.” He whispered finally turning toward his room, nodding his head like he received his answer again. An answer to a question or a confession that he never said out loud.

It suddenly infuriated you.

“Are you in love with me?” You blurted out, causing Jeonghan to stop only a few steps away, watching the way his back straightened at the question. The accusation.

“Yes, I am.” He answered without hesitation, turning to look at you. That forced smile turning into a sardonic smirk when your eyes widened at how easy it was for him to say it, “I am in love with you.”

“For how long?”

“Does it matter?” The question as simple.

“Yes…no…just tell me.” You let out a frustrated sigh, shoulders dropping as you do.

“I’ve loved you since we were children, even when you would pull my hair,” He let out a chuckle, crossing his arms, “But realized I was in love with you when I had to watch you board that plane for school.”

“And why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it was easier to watch you go not knowing than if you did.” Jeonghan’s voice was low, the words stripping everything away that he hid behind, letting you see the raw side of him. And he still held eye contact with you.

“And the condition with your parents…”

“I had no intention fulfilling it if it wasn’t going to be you.” You noticed that he had started to close the distance that as originally there, pulling off his cap in the process so you could see his face better. Looking at you in a way he never had before, or that you noticed.

“Why?”

“Because no matter how I pictured my future, when it came to who I would spend my life with…” Jeonghan was now in front of you, close enough that you could feel his breath against your face. His hand ghosting over your cheek. You couldn’t move, you didn’t want to move, you were scared to move, “It’s always you. It’s always been you.”

“Jeonghan…” His name came out in a whisper, tears starting to fall down your cheek and that was when you felt the coolness of his hand cupping your cheek. His thumb wiping away a few away. “You’re an asshole.”

A soft laugh left him, dropping his hand and taking a step back. Taking your comment as a rejection, but it wasn’t. It was far from it. You finally found a name to what that missing piece was when it came to Jeonghan. Your best friend, the boy who would be waiting for you in that run down shed every day, the teen who would get in trouble with you, the young man who let you go even though there was an ache in both your chests, and the man standing before you.

All these versions of him were one thing to you. Your Jeonghan.

“You’re an asshole for not telling me sooner…” You pouted, grabbing the sleeves of his shirt to stop him, refusing to look away from him. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face.

“Yeah?” Jeonghan countered back, inching closer to you, his eyes flicking to your mouth.

“Yeah.”

He then kissed you, heated and hungry, like something inside him snapped; unable to hold back any longer. He had a taste of you earlier, and now that he had you again, he couldn’t keep pretending. You returned the kiss with a fever, gripping at the sleeves of his shirt because if you didn’t, he’d disappear.

His hand finding their place at your hips, squeezing them when you deepened the kiss, greedy to taste him again like you had earlier. This time with the notes of beer still lingering, but you were sure you were just the same. Releasing the sleeves of his shirt, you traced them over your shoulders and up his neck, earning a low groan from him when you gripped at the soft strands of his hair.

Hearing this sound sent a wave of heat down your belly, right to your core, your thighs squeezing slightly and enough for Jeonghan to notice. Making him pull away from your lips, reluctantly since he attempted to dive back in to reclaim them, only to stop himself.

“You’ll need to stop me now, because I have no intentions on it.” He said softly, willing to step away if you didn’t want to. You laugh pushing him toward his bedroom, tripping over each other and pulling off clothes in the process. With your bra and top gone before you made it through his bedroom door.

His shirt following quickly after, giving way to a lean frame with smooth undefined muscles, but you could feel them under your touch. Your cargos off next, leaving you in a pair of grey lace underwear, and Jeonghan had twisted you so the he was the one guiding you to his bed. His mouth claiming yours right as you felt his bed hit the back of your knees, making you drop down onto it.

Looking up to see Jeonghan standing before you, his eyes roaming from your own down your body before returning to them. His expression one of disbelief, like he couldn’t believe you were on his bed, half naked. And just for him.

“Hanni…” Anything you had to say was stopped by his kiss, more heated than any of the others you had shared.

Your hands and mouths touching and kissing anywhere and everywhere you could. His mouth teasing your breasts, sucking at the hardened peaks, while your hands ran over his body. Feeling his hardened cock over his pants before they too were gone. Followed by his boxers, and then your underwear.

“Fuck…your mouth is heaven,” He moaned out when you took his cock into your mouth, swallowing him down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him. With a few expert movements, Jeonghan had to pull back to stop from cumming down your throat and ending it all too soon. “We are going to have to revisit this later.”

“But…” Your words were swallowed up by his kiss, tongue claiming yours, pushing your back against the bed, his hips pushing your legs apart. Moaning at the feeling of his saliva slicked cock pressing against your own soaked cunt, rolling your hips up against his. Needing more of him.

When you felt two fingers tweak at one of your nipples, you roll him onto his back, straddling him. Grinding down onto him while one of your hands slip between you to grip his cock. With a gentle squeeze, Jeonghan broke from the kiss to drop his head back with a groan, moving both hands to your hips. The head of his cock catching at your entrance, making you both gasp.

Then you sank down onto him, a silent cry leaving you while Jeonghan’s eyes rolled at the way he stretched your gripping walls, until you were completely onto him. Only you didn’t stay there long, not giving either of you the chance to adjust before you were moving. Planting your hands onto the bed, you lift your hips off him, leaving only the head of his cock in you before dropping down.

Jeonghan’s hands gripped onto your hips, his eyes glazed over from arousal and the sight of you. Seeing parts of you that he only imagined, your bare breasts bouncing with each movement of your hips, your mouth falling open in pleasure, right down to where your two were now connected. The feeling of your walls squeezing and gripping at him was better than any late night thoughts could compare.

He knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he also didn’t want this to ever end. There was no way he could ever go back after this, he wouldn’t be able to go back to anything with you that didn’t involve this. Didn’t involve you being his.

“Jeonghan…” You whimpered, grinding down onto him to get more friction, feeling yourself winding tighter. The knot deep in your core threatening to snap. Then one of his hands slide from your hip to between your legs, pushing his finger up to tease your clit. “I’m close…”

“Do it, baby. Don’t hold back.” He tried to play it cool with a smirk, but he was just as much of a whimpering mess like you are. Looking up at you like you were the only thing that ever mattered. You were the only thing that ever mattered to him.

“Shit, Shit…” You chanted, every muscle tightening as you came, “I love you, I love you.”

Then you were on your back, Jeonghan rolling you over without pulling out, taking over for you. Fucking into you with a vigor you never experienced from him.

“I love you…” He whispered into your mouth, cupping your face, his own release following quickly after. Neither of you moved, staying connected as you came down from your highs, with him now pulling back to look at you. Your well kissed lips, your hair a mess from running your fingers through it, and your still glazed over eyes. A scene that made him fall even more in love. “Please don’t leave… stay… I can’t let you go again.”

“Jeonghan…” You sigh, closing your eyes as you attempted to slip off him. Oversensitivity starting to take over, but he kept you there on top of him. “I have to though…” That was when you felt his hands loosen on your hips, and the look on his face nearly broke you, but still a small smile graced your lips, “I mean… If I plan to move back, I got to get everything in order…”

“No you don’t,” He pouted, and you leaned forward to kiss him. Soft, promising. “You can just start back over here… I am not letting you go.”

“Then I guess we need to buy you a plane ticket then.” You tease, brushing a strand of hair from his face. His stupid, assholish, beautiful face that you’ve loved for years. “Cause I do have to go back.”

“We’ll see about that,” He smirked, making you laugh. “I love you. Always you.”

Thank you so much for reading I seriously hope you all enjoyed this!

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to know I am doing well!

Please be sure to check out all the other wonderful fics from this collab and show everyone love! We all worked hard on this!

[thestraybunny]

Spring Storm *C.SC*

Pairing: Non-Idol Carpenter Seungcheol x F. Waitress Reader WC: 14.5+K Rating: E 18+ MDNI Genre: Non-Idol AU, Strangers to lovers, 90s type AU (there isn't cells or social media), Smut, fluff, slight angst Summary: Seungcheol thought he had his life planned out. From his job to his home to who he was going to spend his life with. You were just a lost soul trying to find a place to call home, a new face to the small town of Diamond Ridge. Coming into his life and make him question if he really had it planned out?

Tags: Strangers to lovers, 90s type AU (there isn't cells or social media), small town, Carpenter! Seungcheol, Waitress! Reader, Slowish burn, cheating accusation, rumors, mention of a dead family member, Member appearances, drinking, illusion to driving after drinking  (def do not do this), the reader is called some names (derogatory), wet Seungcheol, flirting, yearning, angst, smut Smut tags: Unprotected sex (no don’t do this), oral (f receiving), fingering, creampie

A/N: This is my first fic for the wonderful The Reef In Bloom collab by @dorereef, as well for S.Coups. It was meant to be posted this weekend but Im a bit too excited to post it, and this is my first collab and I am so happy to be apart of it and such a great network. @mylovesstuffs and @nothoughtsjustfic thank you so much for doing this collab and giving me the chance to join in! A/N2: Thank you to @gam3bo17 for betaing this fic for me, and then yell at me for more. xD Well I hope you all enjoy!! A/N3: The line in the banner "she brings the rain, it feels like spring" is from the song She brings the Rain by CAN.

Seventeen Fic Masterlist

*End of February/March*

The music playing softly through the jukebox was something from the eighties, older than many of the patrons occupying the diner, but Seungcheol didn’t mind. In fact, it was one of his favorites to listen to as he enjoyed his dinner. The soft rock filtering through the semi quiet restaurant, the murmurs of conversations from those around him drowned out.

Some getting off work late like he had, needing a late night dinner, some on dates, or the night owls that couldn’t sleep but couldn’t stay home either. It didn’t matter to him why any of them were there, because to them it didn’t matter why he was there.

“Want a refill?” Mingyu asked, stopping in front of him, jutting his chin at the half empty glass while balancing a few plates in his hands. His brows wet with sweat from the kitchen and running around the place. Seungcheol glanced up from his burger to give his friend a nod. “I’ll be right back.”

“Thanks.” Seungcheol nodded, popping a fry into his mouth, and the taller man gave him a quick smile before hurrying off to serve food. The door chimed with someone either coming or going, but Seungcheol didn’t bother to check, choosing to watch Seokmin work effortlessly to cook the meals being ordered.

He didn’t even spare a glance when he heard the barstool next to him scraping against the floor, or at the person occupying it. Too tired to look anywhere else but forward.

“Hey. What are we having tonight?” Mingyu’s voice spoke up, grabbing Seungcheol’s glass to refill the soda.

“Just a burger and fries. No tomatoes.” The person spoke up, a voice that he didn’t recognize and he glanced toward the source. “Just water.”

“On it,” Mingyu nodded, setting the refilled soda in front of him. Slapping the pass while calling out her order, then grabbed a few more plates ready to be served. “Be right back with your water.”

“Thanks.” Seungcheol reached for his drink, finding himself observing the new face. You.

He hadn’t seen you before. In a town the size of Diamond Ridge,Seungcheol pretty much knew everyone. Hell, most the people in the diner he grew up around, so you stuck out to him. Your hair loose around your face, and clothes that looked like they were swallowing you up. You weren’t looking around, you were looking down at diner counter, a faraway look in your eyes.

You looked lost.

“You okay?” Seungcheol found himself asking, your gaze snapping to him. Eyes wide in surprise that someone was speaking to you, not expecting anyone to talk to you. Let alone ask you if you were okay.

“Oh, uh, yeah…yeah.” You answered nodding quickly, and it was cute the way you turned away before turning back, “Its…just I just moved here, and I’ve only really spoken to Mr. Kim. He’s my new landlord.”

“So, you’re the one who took the apartment above this place.” Seungcheol mused, taking a drink of the carbonated drink. Setting the glass down, he wiped his hands onto a crumbled napkin before offering it you. “Welcome to Diamond Ridge. Seungcheol.”

He watched as your gaze drop to his hand, your bottom lip finding its way between your teeth. Now it’s your turn to take him in, moving from his hand back to his face then back. Contemplating taking it.

There wasn’t anything off about him in his opinion. A pair of dirty steel toed work boots, jeans well-worn and covered in dirt with his dark blue flannel matching. His short dyed blond hair a mess on his head. He felt he was also an okay looking guy, his face more tired than serious in that moment.

He just looked like a guy who got off a long shift and just wanted a hot meal.

Finally you took his hand, a firm but delicate grip with your palm warm against his. Almost too warm.

“Y/N.” You answer softly, letting go of his hand just as quick as you took it.

“Y/N.” Seungcheol said slow, feeling each syllable on his tongue. He nodded, giving you a friendly smile, “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you.” You answer as Seokmin called out that more orders were ready. Mingyu then appeared in front of the two of you, setting down your water down before turning to the pass where the food was waiting.

“Yours is up next.” Mingyu let you know grabbing the plates. Seungcheol didn’t realize that it had gotten busier since he came in, his focus now on the new face next to him.

“Thank you, Mr. Kim.” You tell him, giving him a polite nod and he stopped in front of you for a moment.

“I told you, just call me Mingyu.” He playfully scolded, then was back out on the floor to serve. Seungcheol had gone back to the last of his food, but he glancing toward you.

You also sent a few his way while you waited, neither of you said anything further. You focused on not being noticed, despite being the most noticeable thing there. An unfamiliar face in a room of familiar ones, which he could only imagine how nerve wracking that was. To be a stranger.

“Ready to pay, Cheol?” Mingyu stopped in front of him moments later, and the older man nodded, wiping his lips with a napkin. Standing, Seungcheol pulled his wallet out to get enough to cover his and your meal.

“For both our meals.” Hearing this, you whipped your head toward him, ready to protest, but he was already starting toward the door, “Keep the change as a tip, Gyu. Have a great night, Y/N.”

You knew being someone new to such a small town was going to get you attention, but that didn’t mean you were used to the stares. The looks that followed you wherever you went, ranging from pure curiosity to caution to straight suspicion.

Everyone seemed to know each other, with so many growing up together. So, they were able to greet each other by name, talk with each other like old friends, while asking for your name was a foreign phrase to them. It would lead to questions that you weren’t ready to answer, and you could feel the judgement in their eyes when you avoided those questions.

You weren’t sure if you were the one making yourself an outsider or if the town’s people made you feel that way. It was not your intention to, nor could it have been for just the ones curious.

There were several friendly faces that made you feel welcome and didn’t ask too many questions. Mingyu and Seokmin were nice to you, with the taller happily hiring you on as a waitress. There was only two, and a third was desperately needed. Diamond Ridgewas a pretty small town, but Kim’s Diner was a popular spot. Even during the slowest times of the day, there was always someone in a booth eating.

Then there was the man who paid for your meal one night. Seungcheol. His gaze curious, but it didn’t feel like the way everyone else in town looked at you. He didn’t ask anything further than if you were okay, and he paid for your meal when he didn’t have to. The kindness he showed you made you feel more welcome than so many of others, and it made you want to return it to him as well.

But you hadn’t seen him again since.

For a moment, you thought maybe he’d been part of your imagination, a hallucination since you’d been sleep deprived that night. Unable to get sleep with your mind racing and your cat Max meowing through the studio apartment. The chubby tabby was still getting used to the new living arrangements, but he found the acoustics of the place made him happy.

But he wasn’t part of your imagination, with Mingyu confirming that you weren’t hallucinating. He was a very real person. Though you still had your doubts, since you hadn’t seen him since that night, with only your memory to go off of and you were too nervous to ask any of the locals about him. Nor could you ask your boss or any of your coworkers.

You were friendly with them, but you weren’t friends, nor comfortable enough to ask or talk to them about anything more than surface level. Though you probably should have in hindsight.

The fact the local bar was named Cheers made you giggle, thinking about the show with the same bar name when you walked into it. It was a hole in the wall that was found in the heart of Diamond Ridge’s main square, tucked just enough away that it took the sign out front to find it.

The inside was bigger than what you expected, walking toward the bar while taking in your surroundings. It was a slower night, with maybe five people there, and that was counting the bartender. Two were off at the pool tables, chatting and laughing, while the rest were sitting at the bar. None of them paying you a single mind, other than the bartender. He was a shorter man, with jet black hair that reached just past the nape of his neck, and a muscular frame under a fitted shirt. His sharp eyes zeroing in on you as he approached, his face neutral and didn’t give away if he recognized you or even cared. 

“What can I get you?” He asked, throwing a white towel over his shoulder, leaning against the bar patiently waiting for your order.

“Uh, I’ll take an old fashion,” You answer, and he made quick work on your drink.

“Starting a tab, or paying now?” He wasn’t even looking at you when asking.

“Tab?” It’s then he looked up at you, his brow raised, and it was then you realized your words sounded unsure. You coughed into your fist, clearing your throat to speak again, “Sorry, I’ll start a tab.”

“Name?” The bartender placed the drink in front of you, before looking at you expectantly.

“Y/N.”

“Just let me know if you want anything else.” Then he walked away, leaving you to your drink.

With glass in hand, you scanned the near empty bar for somewhere to sit, not particularly interested sitting at the counter. There was several tables and a few booths through it with a set of pool tables in the back corner and already being occupied by two men. Picking one of the booths, you sat to nurse your drink. 

It was another night that you didn’t want to be home, even with Max cuddling and the television playing something to keep the place filled with noise. You didn’t like it, you weren’t used to it, and you weren’t sure if you could get used to it. It didn’t feel right, but you couldn’t…wouldn’t go back so you had to eventually. For now, you’d just find things to occupy yourself until that happened.

You barely touch your drink, kind of regretting choosing it instead of something else, but it was the only thing you could think of. Then again, you never were much of a drinker, and you drove here. You needed to drive home, so what were you even thinking getting a drink? Taking another slow sip, you scrunch your nose at the taste, licking your lips in hopes to find something other than the taste of alcohol. You didn’t.

Laughter from over at the pool tables drew your attention in that direction and the two men playing a game. One was lean with long dark hair that was pulled back, giving way to one of the prettiest faces you’d ever seen, while the other’s back was to you. This man had short dyed blond hair, spiked up, but you couldn’t see his face. He was in a simple pair of black jeans and a black tank that showed off thick shoulders and arms. You catch sight of the top of a tattoo between his shoulder blades, and something over his shoulder.

You couldn’t make out what the words said, you weren’t close enough nor did you want to look like you’re staring. Only before you could look away, the pretty one’s eyes flicked to you and the smile he had quickly turned into a smirk. Catching you looking at his friend.

He then leaned forward to say something to his friend, making him look over his shoulder to you. The look on your face had to be a funny one, since the pretty one had burst out laughing while the other held your gaze.

Was… was that Seungcheol?

You’d only seen him one night at the diner, and the lighting hadn’t been the best, so you couldn’t remember him exactly. You only could remember his dark eyes, the curiosity and kindness that had resonated with you. That and the way his hand felt when you shook it. Strong, calloused, and warm. So warm it felt like it could burn you if you held on too long.

Breaking the contact, you looked down to notice the ice had melted in your drink, the hand holding it cold and wet from condensation. Now wishing that you just paid for it rather than opening a tab, to make an easy escape. 

“Y/N, right?” You hadn’t realized you were approached, let alone it being him who had. It must’ve been apparent when you looked up toward him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open which earned a chuckle from him. It was Seungcheol, smiling at you and that was when you noticed he had dimples.

“Ye…yeah! Seungcheol?” You finally answer now that your brain caught up with you and to the man standing before you. Leaning slightly on the pool stick he was holding, and your eyes landed on his arms. They were thick, strong looking, like the rest of his body. A body well taken care of, but also from years of hard work.

“He is, in fact,” The pretty man spoke up next to you, making you nearly jump out of your skin, not seeing him slip into the booth with you. Sticking out a slender hand, the pretty man’s tried to conceal his smirk behind a welcoming smile, “Jeonghan.”

You stare at his hand before taking it to give a brief shake, saying your name despite him already hearing it, but Jeonghan held on. Eyes studying you carefully, from the way your hair was done to the clothes you were wearing. A pair of baggy acid wash jeans that was barely being held up by a belt, a white thermal shirt under a larger shirt. An old, faded band one, well-loved with holes through it and was too big for your body.

Jeonghan then nodded, like he was approving of something only he knew, finally letting go of your hand.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. You’ve been quite the talk of the town.” He observed the way you shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and chuckled, “Which I take you aren’t too fond of.”

“I don’t think anyone would like to find themselves at the center of gossip.” You pointed out, and he let out another chuckle. Nodding in agreement.

“You have me there,” Jeonghan then shot a look toward Seungcheol, then back to you, “Now, we can’t have you sitting here drinking alone. How about you come drink with us, play some pool. Have fun with some friends.”

“I just met you.” This made Seungcheol laugh, while the other man looked surprised at your comeback.

“More the reason to join,” he pressed, slipping out of the booth and offer his hand to you. A friendly gesture, a chance to not be alone for a change. Your gaze then moved to Seungcheol, who looked like he was about to start pouting that his friend offered this. Not him.

It was… it was kind of cute.

“I don’t know how to play pool, but I’ll hang out,” You agree, the words directed toward Jeonghan while you kept your gaze on Seungcheol. Grabbing your glass, you get out of the booth, ignoring Jeonghan’s out reached hand. It was noticed by both men.

“After you.” The pretty man gestured to follow Seungcheol, which you did, clutching your watered down drink in the process.

“You finish stalling now? Or are you ready to have your ass kicked?” Seungcheol asked Jeonghan, picking up a beer that was left at the pool table.

“I wasn’t stalling. Just wanted an audience to watch me win,” The other man teased, grabbing his pool stick and gave you a teasing wink. The gesture makes you roll your eyes, finding a stool to sit on. Seungcheol took a swig of his beer before sitting it next to you.

“Watch this for me?” He asked, dark eyes sliding over your face and made your cheeks feel warm. You give him a small nod, earning a gummy smile, “Knew I could count on you.”

As they played, the conversation flowed with the two men making sure to include you. Explaining who the people being mentioned were, providing a little background to a few jokes. They also asked you different things as well. Surface questions, like when your birthday was, if you had pets, and how you were adjusting to small town life.

That game ended in a draw and lead to several more, with both men earning a win under their belt each. You had another drink while they had several more beers. Enjoying their company, the way they made you feel included. Not a stranger, but a longtime friend.

That was until the question came up.

“So, what brought you to Diamond Ridge?” It was Jeonghan who asked, lining up his shot that would win him the game, and it made you physically stiffened. Your back straighter, the smile on your face now an uncomfortable frown. Jeonghan didn’t notice but Seungcheol did.

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol spoke up, his words coming out like a warning, watching you push your tongue out to wet your bottom lip and attempt to relax your body. The question had been on the tip of everyone’s tongue, but very few tried to asked. Which you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

The only person who knew anything had been Mingyu, and that was only to get him to agree to rent to you. He too had been weary of you when you first walked into his diner. Tired from driving hours from the city, lost, hungry, and desperate for a place for you and your cat to rest.

There was a loud crack as Jeonghan took his shot, the sound of the cue ball hitting the eight ball perfectly and pocketing it easily. Winning the game. Straightening himself back up, he looked at you both with a triumphant grin on his face and a shrug to his shoulder.

“It’s just an honest question. It’s not like we’d judge her.” He defended his reasoning, and while what he said may be true, it didn’t mean you were comfortable enough to share it yet. Let alone in a bar. “The last time we had anyone new move here was Joshua and his mom in high school. Can’t blame us for being curious.”

“You don’t have to answer,” Seungcheol told you, arms crossed and the grip on the pool stick tightening. It was hard to not stare at the way his muscled bulged doing this, while you shifted in your seat. You knew you didn’t have to answer, but his assurance did help.

Jeonghan’s eyes flicked between the two of you, his head tilted, studying something you couldn’t see, before his focus was mostly on Seungcheol. The corner of his lips turned up, a flash of something go across his own dark eyes, before giving him a nod.

“I see.” That was all he said before setting the pool stick onto the table to saunter passed his friend and you, “I am going for a smoke and see if I can flirt some free drinks out of Jihoon over there. You two want to join?”

“I don’t smoke,” You shake your head.

“I quit remember,” Seungcheol answered at the same time, then let out a scoff, “And good luck with the flirting. He’ll just charge you double.”

“Price to pay to see him get all cute and flustered.” The pretty man joked, leaving the two of you alone at the tables.

A pregnant silence followed.

“I’m sorry that he asked that.”

“Don’t be,” You say him waving him off, slightly wishing that your empty glass still had alcohol in it. “I don’t blame him or anyone else wanting to ask… I just…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” Seungcheol said calmly, finishing what was left of his beer. Setting it with the growing collection of empty bottles, he caught the way your eyes went to his arms before back to his face. Making his already red flushed skin brighten, gesturing toward the pool table. “You want to play?”

“I don’t know how to,” You repeat what you had said earlier when Jeonghan had invited you to play, and this earned a chuckle from the blond man.

“I’m not that good myself, but it’s pretty straightforward,” He then went on to give you a quick lesson on the game. Explaining the rules. You would either be solid or stripes and needed to get them all pocketed before putting in the black eight ball using a white cue ball and a pool stick. It sounded easy enough. Grabbing the stick that Jeonghan had been used, he offered it to you.

“Thank you for the offer, but…” You went to decline, only to stop when your gaze went from the pool stick to his face, finding that his bottom lip started to jut out in a pout. You managed to stop the laugh that wanted to escape you, but not the smile that graced your lips. He really was pouting over this.

Something inside you told you to take him up, and for once, you listened.

“You know what,” Standing from your seat, you took the stick he was offering. “One game.”

“That’s my girl.” He said softly, setting up the table so you could start a game, but you didn’t catch it. Instead, you stood there paying attention to what he was doing, letting him teach you. Once ready, he gestured toward the table, “You first.”

“Me?” You asked with wide eyes. He nodded his head as you shook yours, “I think you should start, so I can see what I should do.”

“You been watching us all night,” Despite this, Seungcheol didn’t argue further and positioned his stick with the cue ball. “Just got to make sure you’re lined up just right, and…” the stick hit the cue, breaking the triangle of balls at the end of the table. He straightens up as they ricocheted around, even pocketing a couple, “the game is started. Your turn.”

With a deep breath, you moved into position, trying to mimic what he had just shown you. Lining up the stick with the cue ball, but when you went to hit it you missed.

“Shit,” You muttered under your breath, and Seungcheol laughed softly.

“Your postures wrong. Here try again,” He encouraged, and you did as you were told. What you weren’t expecting was Seungcheol leaning over you, one hand placed gently on your elbow and his other helping you adjust your stance. His chest was slightly pressed against your back as he leaned closer, his mouth close to your ear. “You stand like this. Your eyes should be leveled, so you can get a good look at your shot.”

You were listening, but you could also feel your brain suddenly stop working at the smell of his perfume hitting your nostrils, or how his hot breath hit your ear. It made your own breath catch in your throat feeling his warm body encase yours, something that he clearly heard by the way he froze but didn’t let go. When he turned his head to look at you, you took the chance to hit the cue.

The cracking of the ball hitting another echoed, and you took the chance to move from him as a solid one dropped into one of the pockets. Barely able to register it with your skin feeling hot, tingling from his warm breath against it.

“Looks like you’re solids,” Seungcheol mumbled out, his attention staying on the table, but you could see that the red tint of his skin was now deeper. Taking a deep breath, he took his turn, “That makes me stripes.”

Neither of you got close like that again as the game played on, with Jeonghan returning with three more drinks that he tried to claim was free. Taking your original seat, he wasn’t watching the game you were playing, he was watching the two of you. Easily picking up the way you were acting. 

You were talking and laughing like nothing happened, but the lingering glances you kept doing made it pretty obvious that something was there.

“Last call!” Jihoon called out right as Seungcheol landed the winning shot, sinking the eight-ball easily. You hadn’t realized it was so late nor had you intended to stay out this long.

“Good game.” Seungcheol stuck his hand that you took to shake, making eye contact with him in the process. His eyes darkened with something unspoken, as if he was still thinking about that moment earlier, his hand gently squeezing yours. This time you didn’t let your body betray you and kept wearing a friendly smile.

“Same here.” You answer. It was then that you two realized that Jeonghan had disappeared. “Where did…”

“He does that. I got to give it to him, he stayed longer than he usually does.” The blond answered, taking your pool stick to put away. Taking this chance, you looked back around the now empty bar, with only you, Seungcheol, and the bartender named Jihoon left. Who had been staring you both down since yelling last call minutes earlier.

When you went to close your tab, you found it had already been paid for, and your other drinks had been placed on Seungcheol’s.

“No, let me pay!” You tell him when he pulled out his wallet to pay, digging through your jean pockets for yours. “It’s only fair since you paid for my dinner the other night.”

“You don’t owe me for that, and you don’t owe me for this,” He said simply, already handing several bills to the shorter man. Jihoon then gave you both a nod, his way of saying goodnight you guess, and went to close the tab. You went to protest, your own lip jutting out in a pout, and this made Seungcheol let out a laugh. Leading you out of the bar, you were met with the cool, dewy air and an empty street.

The still cold night sent a shiver through you, going from a warm bar to this that not even your thermal was able to help like you hoped. Seungcheol, now covered in a black leather jacket, took notice and attempted to take it off to give to you.

“No, I’m okay. I will just blast the heater when I get into my car.” You shake your head, and he slowly pulled it back over his shoulder.

“Let me walk you to your car at least.” He didn’t give you the opportunity to decline though, directing you in the direction the only two vehicles on the street. Your little black  Buick, and his old white Chevy truck. “You good to drive home?”

“I’ll be okay. How about you?” You ask, stopping next to the driver side of your car, watching the way Seungcheol slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket. His own gaze on you.

“Yeah, it takes more than the weak ass beer that Jihoon gets in to make a difference.” He nodded, neither of you making any moves to leave.

“Thank you.”

“For?”

“For dinner the other night, the drinks tonight and hanging out, and… for walking me to my car.” You manage to stutter out, feeling your cheeks heat up despite the cold air hitting your face. This earned a smile from him, a gummy one that made his eyes crinkle, and the dimples on his cheeks deepened.

The smile made him look younger, almost boyish, making you want to keep seeing it. Keep having it in your direction.

“Anytime.” His gaze stayed on you for moments longer, his grin softening before he nods his head to you. “Have a goodnight, Y/N.”

“You too, Seungcheol.”

*April*

 If there is one thing about a small town like Diamond Ridge, it’s how easily word can spread even when you don’t want it to. Rumors and gossip can be shaped with each exchange of ‘what so and so said or seen’ and become almost its own being and farthest from the truth. Even if it was a complete misunderstanding, or something that was misinterpreted by nosey eyes.

Being shown how to play pool and then being walked to your car after is a good example.

You still weren’t used to the way people would stare or whisper around you, but you had learned to tune it out. Ignore whatever story they have spun about you, why you moved to the town, how you dressed or kept to yourself. It was easier than to let yourself listen or even try to defend yourself with things you weren’t comfortable to give away.

You didn’t need them to look at you with suspicion and pity. If they even cared to show pity.

When you worked, you kept a friendly smile on your face, ignoring the stares that the patrons would provide you as you served them. You kept a friendly smile as some of them would request another server or Mingyu to help them instead of you. You taught yourself how to not take it all to heart, to not think about it, hoping that if you kept your head down enough it would all stop.

That was until Mingyu had come to you with concern.

“There you are,” He sounded relieved when he stepped foot out of the diner to find you out there. You were sitting on the steps that lead to your apartment, your focus on way the trees around the diner were full of leaves and flowers, while watching the way the birds flew from each branch. Singing a song that only they could understand. “Seokmin told me you went on break but weren’t in your hiding spot in the kitchen.”

“It’s a nice day out. I figured getting some fresh air would be nice.” You answer him, a smile gracing your lips as you enjoyed the view of the trees that stretched far behind the diner. You hadn’t dared to venture into them yet, but you wondered how easy it would be to get ‘lost’ in them. To let nature surround you instead of people. Then you noticed the look of concern on his face, “Everything okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his head in a nervous way, not sure how to broach the subject. “I really don’t know how to talk to you about this.”

“Did I mess up on someone’s order?” It was a reasonable thing to ask, you had been busier than usual that morning and at one point it felt like a blur. By the time your break came around, you couldn’t stay in the stuffy diner, not even in the little walk in fridge that you had claimed as a small hiding spot.

“No, your service has been great, everyone who I spoke to admits that you’re good at your job,” He shook his head before taking a seat next to you on the steps. He runs his hand through his dark hair, “But there has been… concerns.”

“Concerns?” You repeat flatly, the smile on your face dropping. “What kind of concerns?”

“Someone saw you getting cozy with Seungcheol at the bar the other night and leave with him after it closed.” He answered after a moment, still sounding unsure at his approach. You could only blink. “Did you?”

“I went to the bar, yeah, but I was not cozying up to anyone. Seungcheol and his friend Jeonghan invited me to drink with them instead of alone and play some pool. Then he walked me to my car after the bar closed, he went home and I came back here. That’s it, nothing happened.” You tell him honestly, your hands slowly closing into fists. Trying to figure out who could have made that up, then again, you couldn’t put it past anyone here in town. “Besides, what’s the concern over it anyways?”

“Because if you haven’t noticed, most of the people asking for a different server… are couples…” Mingyu said slowly, and you blinked confused. You didn’t exactly notice what kind of people were requesting to not be served by you, but thinking back to it all, it was mostly couples asking. The women being the ones requesting it, and it started to make sense about what their looks of disgust meant.

You had been so used to ignoring and not acknowledging them that it didn’t occur to you what was happening. You started to rack your brain and started to pay attention to the mumblings, the whispers, and you remembered why you learned to ignore it.

“I didn’t even try to think about it… I mean it’s not like he’s…” The words died on your lips, already sounding unsure and full of the annoyance that was starting to build in your chest. Mingyu didn’t answer, he just watched you with a pitied look that said to use your head. “Seungcheol… isn’t single.”

“They’re not anything official yet, but he has been seen around town with her more often than not. So, yeah.” Mingyu could see the way your eyes dimmed, and the frown on your face deepening. “I take it that you didn’t know.”

“No, because I don’t go around asking people if they are taken. I didn’t even actively seek him out, I was invited to hang out with them as a friend.” Your voice continued to not come out the way you wanted, with it coming out higher than you would like and probably sounded pathetic to Mingyu.

“Hey, I believe you,” Your boss said with a sigh, reaching over and patting your knee, “Cheol is a nice guy, and he’d give you the shirt off his own back if needed. Hell, this town knows him, but they just don’t know you… or your intentions.”

“My intentions is to live my life without bullshit,” You snap, swallowing back the sting of angry tears. “My intentions is to not think about my mom or my life back in the city. Not be labeled as some harlot.”

“I know. Trust me, I know better than most here how cruel these people can be.” His voice was quieter when he said this, the same hand patting your knee squeezed. “But don’t stop doing what you been doing. Keep your head high and just ignore the talk.” He then stands and turns to you with a crooked smile, showing off a long canine, “They’re all just bored bastards anyways. It won’t be long until they are bored over this and onto the next target.”

“Can’t they already be done with it,” You sigh, knowing that by the look on his face that your break was over and he was waiting for you to come with him. Standing, you smoothed out your light pink dress uniform before following him in.

“One can only wish,” Mingyu chuckled, opening the back door for you.

You didn’t expect to run into Seungcheol again so soon, or at the post office of all places. You were already in line to get stamps when he stepped into it behind you, holding a piece of mail he was sending off, and there was a shift in the air. His eyes moving to your back while you continued to look forward, clutching your wallet to your chest, counting to see how many people were in front of you.

Four. With one elderly clerk that was working at a snail’s pace.

Why was this post office so busy for a small town? And why did it have to be right then?

“We’re going to be here a while. Mr. Han likes to take his time on top of already being slow moving,” You could hear him say to you quietly, but you didn’t look back to him. Instead you took a slow inhale through your nose before licking your lips, trying your best to ignore him. Last thing you wanted was more fuel to the fire that rumor created. Then he spoke again, “I’m sorry, by the way.”

“Of course, you are,” You muttered to yourself, but he heard it. Though it wasn’t like you didn’t mean for him to though.

“I am sorry.” He said again, and you were happy that he couldn’t see you rolling your eyes. Of course, he is. They always are when they’re caught, even if they aren’t the ones getting the shit end of it all. “I wasn’t trying to cause any issues. We didn’t like that you were drinking alone and wanted to make friends.”

“Friends… yeah, that’s totally what ended up happening,” You let out a scoff, but you knew that he wasn’t the one who started or twisted the rumor and it included him. You felt bad for that, but he was the one who had gotten close to you, the one who sought you out with his friend, he was the one who didn’t tell you that he was seeing someone. Whether he had meant to or not, you were the punished one. 

“Y/N.” That was when you turned to look at him, trying to keep your features neutral unlike his. His thick brows knitted tight, with a deep frown playing over his features, his dark eyes swirling with annoyance and hurt. You knew it wasn’t exactly directed toward you, but you didn’t factor it out. The one thing you were certain that was directed toward you was the underlying concern in them.

The clerk finally called the next person, and you turned to shuffle forward.

“I’m serious.” He said softly, but you didn’t bother looking back again and kept your eyes forward. Your fingers tightening around your wallet and cardigan. “Is there a way I can make this up to you?”

You didn’t answer him, ignoring him rather than engaging any further with him. It didn’t matter if he tried to make up for this, it would only make things worse. Any interactions you had up until this point had been soured since Mingyu came to you, and any after now. Which sucked because you liked being around him, but maybe it was better this way.

Seungcheol must have gotten the hint because he stopped trying to talk to you and stood behind you with a heavy wave of frustration radiating off him. It made you shift on your feet uncomfortably, wondering if anyone else here could feel it, but you refused to look back. You didn’t want to give him more of a chance to talk to you, nor did you want to see the look on his face.

After another ten agonizing minutes, it was finally your turn to get your stamps and left without giving Seungcheol another glance. The only time you looked over your shoulder was once you were out of the small post office, catching him through the window, talking to the elderly clerk with a wide smile.

Disappointment heavy on your shoulders that you still wished to be a subject of that smile despite it all.

After watching you drive away that night, Seungcheol sat in his truck until he had no other choice but to drive home. His eyes stayed on the empty space where your old Buick had been, and where he had said goodnight to you. With his mind replaying that night over and over.

“Isn’t that the new girl?” He remembered Jeonghan asking this, his eyes flicking past him and made him look over his shoulder. To see you sitting alone in one of the booths, your wide eyes on him with a look of surprise. It actually nearly made him smile with how cute you were looking. Then Jeonghan had burst into laughter right when you looked down to your drink. “She’s been checking you out, and she’s all alone too. Go talk to her.”

While the other man ended up taking over, leaning heavily into being a wingman when he shouldn’t have, Seungcheol was happy that he did approach you. If he hadn’t, he doubt he would get to see that you were more than just shy and to yourself. You were sweet, funny, with a warm smile and a giggle that made him willing to do anything just to keep them in his direction. To learn more about you.

He hadn’t liked that Jeonghan had made you uncomfortable with his questions, stepping in to stop it from going any further. He remembered that you looked grateful when he had, that someone’s in your corner and didn’t want to trap you in it. It made him feel good to see this, with it being a while since he felt this way over someone.

Leaning his face into his hand, Seungcheol could still smell the sweetness of either your perfume or shampoo when he was showing you how to play pool. He could still hear the soft hitch in your breath when he had leaned over you to help you, something he had done plenty of times in the past, but there was something about being in your space, smelling how sweet you were, and your reaction that made it feel different for him.

He wasn’t sure about the stirring in his chest as he continued to sit and think about you. Your style, the way you were yourself, how beautiful and attractive he thought you were. All of this was dangerous to him. He was a man who had things planned out already, working hard to have the home he always wanted, to be able to live without naught, and already had someone in mind to share that life with.

And here you are, coming in and making him question if he really was right with choosing to pursue Danni. If maybe he had gotten it wrong after all.

No, it was just because you were new. A new face in a sea of faces that he would see every day, you were fresh and something he wasn’t used to. He hoped that this feeling would fade, and once it does, you could be a good friend for him. Except that still didn’t stop him from thinking about you the entire drive home.

That was as far as this town would allow him to get before it made the choice for him.

Words and rumors in this town spread like wildfire, so really this was no different. Whoever was at the bar that night had to of only seen the two of you playing pool and taken it wrong because neither of you were cozied up with each other. Hell, Jeonghan was hanging off him more and being all cozy with him, so one needed to be a dumb mother fucker to confuse his and your height and build. Or so drunk that they wouldn’t even be able to tell the difference between their asshole and a hole in the ground.

For Seungcheol, the most he had to face was the wrath of Danni since he didn’t give a single shit what anyone else said in this town. Their opinions didn’t affect how he was treated by them, nor did it effect his business since he wasn’t the actual target. You were.

You were the one who was facing the towns judgement and distrust. All because a drunken fool wanted to run their mouth.

When he saw you again, he couldn’t blame you for the way you acted toward him. Refusing to give him the time of day, walking away from him when all he wanted was to make things right, choosing to protect yourself instead of letting him in. Except he couldn’t deny that it still hurt, to watch you build a wall before he could even find solid ground. So much so it soured his mood for the rest of the day, and it was felt all around.

He didn’t like that this emotion was being pulled out of him because of you as well. He didn’t like that he barely knew you and you already took over his thoughts and emotions.

The next time he saw you was a nearly a week later at the diner. You were working that night, busy with several tables that you hadn’t noticed him coming in. Or the woman at his side, with her hand resting possessively on his bicep as her own eyes looked around, but your back turned when she looked your way. She was making it quite obvious that she was looking for someone.

A sudden uncomfortable feeling started to build inside, a turning in his stomach as it slowly dawned on him what was happening here. Danni had been insistent that they go out that night, have a bit of a date night. Movie and a late night dinner at the diner was what she wanted, and well, he wanted to give it to her.  She was who he had intended to spend his life with, so he wanted to give her anything she wanted.

Except, he started to think that she didn’t actually want to come here for a late dinner date or sit through that shitty movie she chose. His jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away from you, smiling and laughing with a set of teenagers you were serving, to look toward Danni. Who had caught sight of you… and the empty table in your section.

“There is a free table right there, Cheollie,” The sugary sweet tone she was putting on was aggravating to him, now that he realized the real reason they were there. Danni acted like she didn’t notice as she pulled him to the booth, her grip on his arm tightened.

He almost didn’t go with her, let her drag him to the empty booth, instead wanting to drag her out of the diner. Demand what she was trying to accomplish by bringing him there while you’re working and tell her how childish she was acting when you had made it clear you didn’t want anything to do with him. Except he knew this was a test for him too.

Both her and the people watching them looking for anything to make things worse. And if he failed, you would be the one to blame.

Seungcheol didn’t care what they thought with him, he never did. He did care what judgement they had toward you, without you even knowing what you were being judged further for. Not when all you were doing was trying to find your place in this town that only had a small few welcoming you.

Slipping into the booth, Danni made sure to sit on the side that faced where you were checking on another table, receiving glares instead of a response. A smirk stretched over her pink glossed lips, flipping her long sleek hair over her shoulder before reaching out for him. A gesture that Seungcheol didn’t return, with his jaw still set tight, a frown gracing his features, and crossed arms.

She knew that he was pissed, she knew that he was onto her, but the way her eyes kept flicking over his shoulder told him she didn’t care. She was making a statement, and one that she was not going to like the outcome of.

“Good evening! My name is Y/N, I will be your server tonight.” You spoke up, stopping in front of the table, a bright smile playing over your lips. Except Seungcheol could see that it didn’t meet your eyes, and that you were refusing to look at him more than you needed to. Setting the menus down in front of them both, you pulled out your notepad to take their drink orders, “Should we get started with some drinks while you decide?”

“That would be so lovely!” Danni responded to you with her own smile, only hers was more menacing while she looked you over. Sizing you up from what it looks like, “I’ll take a sweet, iced tea, easy on the ice.” You nodded, writing down it down. Still not looking at him, “What about you Cheollie?”

“I’ll have the root beer, and we can order our meals now. We know what we want,” He said flatly, making you look up at him in surprise. Catching the way his eyes flashed toward Danni, his annoyance nearly palpable among the three of you. “I’ll take the number seven, medium well patty and cheese. I’ll also have the fries instead of the potato salad.”

“Coming right up, and for you Miss?” You nodded, writing down his order quickly and looked to Danni, who had been watching the two of you. Trying to catch you two in some act right in front of her. She was really pissing him off doing this.

“I’ll take number ten, the clam chowder, and could you ask Seokmin to put the oyster crackers in the soup for me instead of on the side? Thank you so much.” She rattled off quickly, almost too quickly and you nearly missed her added request.

“Alright, so I have the number seven with a medium well patty, cheese, and fries instead of the potato salad. Along with a root beer for you.” You repeated calmly, not showing that Danni’s antics was phasing you, barely looking up from your notepad. “And for you the number ten, with the oyster crackers in the soup and not on the side. As well as the sweet, iced tea with easy ice and forgive me, did you want the lemon on the side or in the drink?”

“On the side.” Seungcheol watched with brief satisfaction as Danni’s lip curled in annoyance, her voice not sickening sweet as it was. With another nod, you give both of them a smile.

“I’ll get that put in now and be back with your drinks in a moment.” And with that, you walked away to put in the ticket. Seungcheol didn’t dare look your way, not when he was being watched by others around them. Danni instead was practically breaking her neck to watch you go.

“Ugh, I can’t stand her.” Danni scoffed in disgust, twisting back in her seat and crossing her arms like a brat, the jingle of her bracelets could be heard over the chatter around them. She didn’t seem to notice or care that Seungcheol was staring her down pissed. “Can she be anymore pretentious? Acting like she’s better than me.”

“She was just doing her job, and you don’t even know her,” Seungcheol snapped, making her look at him, her golden brown eyes staring him down. “How many times do I have to tell you that nothing happened? We invited her to play pool and drink with us. You and the rest of this god forsaken town make it seem like we fucked on the pool table.”

“Seungcheol!” She gasped, looking around as if she was making sure no one heard him. “Don’t talk like that. It’s impolite and immature.”

“And what you were just doing wasn’t?” He gritted his teeth, trying to keep his voice low enough that it stayed between them both. His eyes stared her down, watching the way she shrunk slightly before straightening up. A frown playing over her pretty face.

“Listen, all I am doing is make sure she knows I exist and think next time she even wants to look twice at you,” There was so much conviction in her voice, with an eye roll that would back it up. “Let her know that you got someone prettier, more put together, and doesn’t look like they pulled their clothes out of a dumpster. Not some unwelcomed slut.”

“Danni, that’s enough.” Seungcheol could feel his anger started to get the better of him, his eyes piercing through someone he thought he could fall in love with and have a life with. You didn’t even give him the time of day, and here she was tearing you apart like you both were still making eyes at each other. “You don’t talk about her like that, and you sure as hell won’t call her names. I don’t give a shit what that makes you think of me, but you aren’t going to punish her for no damn reason.”

“Seungcheol…”

“Here is your drinks,” Mingyu spoke up, setting down both glasses along with a straw each, this made the couple look at him in confusion. You were their server, “Y/N needed to go on break, so I will be taking over your table. Your food will be ready soon.”

Seungcheol snapped his face toward Danni, who was fighting the triumphant grin threatening to break through. He sure as hell hoped it was actually your break and not because you heard what she had said. But from the frown on Mingyu’s face, the sickening turn in his stomach, and how you didn’t return as their server once back, that was the case.

It made him unable to eat his meal. Everything feeling so wrong and cruel, and he unable get out of his head the way you wouldn’t look his way at all. 

Seungcheol didn’t say anything to Danni when he dropped her off to her place, not even acknowledging the kiss she pressed against the corner of his mouth. His eyes still forward, with his blood running hot, and his hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. Failing to not appear as tense as he was.

“Call me later, baby. Goodnight.” Danni called out before closing the door, either oblivious of his anger or she simply did not care. To her, she won that night.

Once he was she got in, Seungcheol put the truck into drive and pressed on the gas. His tires squealed against the asphalt as he u-turned on the quiet street, followed by a roar of his engine as he sped off.

He needed to clear his head. Needed to rethink everything.

The sky darker than usual, rain clouds starting to gather as he sped through the empty roads. Passed the mixture of houses and thick trees, passed the dirt road that lead to his own place, and into the small quiet town. He did no clearing of the mind as he drove, the streets starting to grow dark except for a few streetlights, and the porch lights of the houses in town. It was late, people were sleeping and probably being woken by the sound of his truck.

He didn’t realize he was driving to the diner until he pulled into the near empty parking lot. The only vehicles there were Seokmin’s bright yellow Beetle, Mingyu’s red Suburban, and your black Buick. He could see through the windows the tables empty, which was a strange sight to see when there was normally always someone there eating, and Mingyu animatedly talking to someone as he wiped down tables. Not bothering to look out the window at the approaching truck.

Turning off the headlights, Seungcheol parked his truck at the farthest end of the lot where it was harder to see anything inside. He leaned back into his seat, running his hand through his hair, once styled to look nice now sticking up everywhere, watching the diner. Contemplating on going in to ask to speak to you.

He was friends with Seokmin and Mingyu, knowing both when they were pushing each other in the mud as kids, so he trusted that they wouldn’t say anything. He’d be able to apologize for Danni’s actions, once more ask for your forgiveness. Be able to talk to you and maybe get you to see that he truly didn’t intend for things to get so messed up.

It was like fate though, that before he made the choice to go inside, the back door opened and you emerged. Carrying a large trash bag, laughing loudly as you yelled something back inside, and a genuine smile playing over your lips. Brightening your face in a way that made his mouth to drop in awe, and his heart flutter. Seungcheol craved to be the reason behind it.

“Y/N!” He called out as he got out of the truck and walked toward you, making you nearly jump out of your skin and fling the trash bag toward him. It didn’t land far from you, and Seungcheol stopped short. Both of you looking at the bag in confusion. It was you who recovered first and picked it up.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, making sure that there wasn’t any tears in the bag before tossing it into the dumpster. “Besides trying to scare me to death.”

“I.. sorry about that,” he let out a nervous chuckle, the corner of his lip upturned slightly. “I… I came to talk to you. To apologize…”

“For your girlfriend saying I pull my clothes out of the dumpster? Or that she’s prettier than me? That she’s more well off than I am? That I am some unwelcomed slut?” You finish for him, finally looking his way. Your bright smile dropping to a sardonic one, turning toward him as your arms crossed. “It might be hard to believe, but I actually don’t give a shit what she has to say about me. Or anyone else in this town for that matter.”

“Still, it wasn’t right.”

“So, you are going to make it right, is that what you are going to do?” You let out a laugh, “I don’t need you to do that, because it’s not your place to make it right.” You hold your hand up to stop him from saying anything. Seungcheol had opened his mouth to argue back but stopped so easily for you. “Just leave it be, Cheol. It sucks, yeah, but sometimes words can only go so deep. And if you only knew, you would understand what I mean by that.”

“Please, I know I can make this right.”

“By what?” There is a sudden waver in your voice, a hitch in your throat. You held onto your smile, though he had achingly watched it change from one that could brightened his day, to a sad one that you were wearing now. “By apologizing for her and the town? To get me to look at you again? I am no one, Seungcheol. Just a lost soul who is trying to find their way in life again.”

The back door then opened to Seokmin, looking out for you with concern. That concern didn’t ease when he saw Seungcheol standing there either.

“Maybe, in another lifetime, things would have worked out differently,” You tell him, walking away before he could reach to stop you. Stopping at the door where Seokmin was still standing, you gave Seungcheol one last smile. Bright, and beautiful but oh so terribly sad. “If you want to make things right, then do it by letting it all go.”

Then you were gone.

**May**

The little town of Diamond Ridge was a mixture of beautiful clear weather and rainy days from April through May. The rain making the surrounding trees and plant life flourish, with everything greener, brighter, and nourished. It made you not regret stopping here after a long drive with your cat, nor regret walking into the diner to ask Mingyu if he knew anywhere you could rent.

So much so that you found yourself going out more no matter what the weather was. Taking trips to the market, visiting the library, explore the trails behind the diner, and stroll through the small park in town. The stares had died down, with only a few still doing it, helping to ease the anxiety you felt. You may not give a shit what these people thought or said, but you sure as hell didn’t like being stared at like you were.

“The Outsiders, huh?” A voice asked next to you while you were looking over the movie box, considered renting it. You found yourself at a small movie rental shop near Cheers and had been browsing the movie selections when the voice had approached.

Looking in his direction, you were met with a younger man standing next to you, his brown eyes looking down at the movie in your hand. He was tall, with high cheek bones that were emphasized by the grey beanie that he was wearing, and his outfit was just a simple pair of jeans with a black t-shirt. Around those eyes were some of the prettiest lashes and eyebrows you had ever seen on anyone, and had to tell yourself to not be jealous, though you really were.

“Ye…yeah… it’s one of my favorites.” You started to stutter out but managed to find your voice, handing over the movie without thinking. Letting the stranger take it from you, to look over the covering. “Was just trying to decide if I wanted to watch it again. If you want to rent it, go ahead, I seen it plenty of times.”

“While I appreciate that, I actually work here and I have a copy of my own.” He let out a soft chuckle, but still flipping the box cover around to read the back.

“Oh,” You answer, feeling your face grow warm with embarrassment.

“You have good taste,” He commented nodding, handing it back to you with a smile, “I’m Vernon.”

“Y/N…” You respond, taking the movie back and braced yourself for the same reaction you always got. Except all Vernon did was nod and repeat it out loud.

“You’re the one who moved into the apartment above the diner, right?” He then asked, and you nodded. “Gotta admit, I’m pretty jealous. That place is such a good spot. Spacious, right above the diner and don’t even need to cook if you don’t want to. And you work there, so that’s even better, don’t have to waste the gas.”

“It can be, but the downfall is that if I want to call out, I have Mingyu at my door. Either calling my bluff or trying to force feed me soup. He told me that when he agreed to give me the place and the job.” You point out, and Vernon chuckled again. He had a nice laugh, and he didn’t look at you like everyone else did. It reminded you a bit of Seungcheol, since he didn’t look at you like an outcast either.

“Yeah, I can believe it. He’s always been that way.”

“Everyone really seems to know each other here.” You mumble, more to yourself but he had heard you.

“Well, we all grew up together, and it’s not every day we get someone new moving here. I think the last people to move here was my friend Josh and his mom when we were teens.” Vernon then pointed toward the movie, “You ready to check out? I can get you hooked up with the employee rental discount… and my number if you want.”

“I would like that.”

“Sweet.”

Vernon was great. He was easy going, loved a good movie or a good album, polite, gorgeous, and most of all, single. It was nice to have someone other than Mingyu and Seokmin to talk to, and you couldn’t think of anyone better than Vernon.

He also liked you. Taking you out or coming by with a stack of movies to binge. He listened to you when you talked, didn’t care or believed the rumors that were started over you. Stating that he didn’t see you the way they painted you and knew Seungcheol wasn’t that kind of guy. Giving you empathy when others didn’t.

Vernon also knew that you liked him, but not that way. He knew that you wanted to, even sharing a few heated kisses during a few hang outs, but something was holding you back. Except that it wasn’t something, it was someone. Someone you couldn’t have or think about.

Vernon was great, but he wasn’t Seungcheol.

You hated that you were still thinking about him after everything. That you were still thinking about how, besides Mingyu and Seokmin, Seungcheol was the first to welcome you to this town. You hated that you wanted to be back in the cross path of his kind eyes, be the reason for a smile over his lips, and be close to him the same way you were that night at the bar. It didn’t matter that the rumors and gossip ruined it, you still found yourself wanting to go back again.

But you couldn’t. Seungcheol and you were not meant to be. He was taken, he had someone already in his life, and you were left wishing that it was all different. Stupid on your part really, to wish that you could go back so that you can explore that what if in your head, when the results would be the same. Maybe they would be even worse, because no matter what. He was spoken for and you’d be what the town thought.

“Movie night this Friday?” Vernon asked through the receiver, “We just got this new movie in, The Little Rascals. I actually saw it in theaters. It’s a pretty cute film.”

“That movie should work, be a lot better than the movie from the other night,” You nodded as if the younger man could see you through the phone. One hand holding the thick white plastic house phone, while the other gently scratched the top of Max’s head. His chubby tabby body curled up next to you, purring softly as your scratches lulled him into a sleep.

“Listen, I thought since you liked Pretty in Pink and The Breakfast Club that you would like St. Elmo’s Fire. It had the brat pack!” Vernon defended his movie choice, making you both start to laugh.

“I mean the movie wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t good either.” You pointed out, before sighing, “I’m gonna let you go. It’s my day off and I haven’t done shit on my to do list because you’re distracting me.”

“I will not take responsibility for your bad choices, Y/N.” He quipped.

“We literally been on the phone for the last two hours, and if I am not mistaken, you’re working.”

“I don’t see how that’s important here, because unlike you, I been productive. I put a movie away.” The two of you burst into laughter at this, then he gasps, “Oh shit, before I let you go. Did you hear?”

“Hear what?”

“Cheol officially ended things with Danni. I think it happened last week after not talking to her for like… I don’t know, I just know that they aren’t a thing anymore.” Vernon chattered off, and your brows seemed to furrow. Why was he telling you this?

“Uh, no. I haven’t,” You said slowly, before a familiar uncomfortable feeling started to bubble inside. “I’m not being blamed for it this time, am I?”

“Cheol finally realized that she was a bitch and a terrible person, and him settling down with her wouldn’t change that.” You could picture Vernon shrugging before he spoke again. “And uh.. yeah you’re kind of to be blamed too.” You went to protest before he cut you off, “But… just hear him out. Don’t close the door.”

“What…” Lightening flashed through the sky as a click could be heard on the other end of the line. You stared at the phone with pure confusion, Max tossing his head back to get you to start petting him again. “Weirdo.”

The knock came about twenty minutes later, when you had put a load of clothes into the old washer that came with the place. You weren’t expecting anyone, not that anyone would come see you, and Mingyu would call you if he needed something. Respecting your space by not being an overbearing landlord. Not to mention, the rain was now coming down like sheets, so whoever was out there had to be insane.

What Vernon said before hanging up made sense when you opened the door, because standing before you was Seungcheol. His blond hair wet from the pouring rain, sticking to his forehead as he stood there. His white button up sticking to his frame with a few buttons undone down to his chest, and blue jeans darkened. Droplets sliding down his handsome features, his gaze fixated on you.

Soft, worried, scared, but hopeful. It made your heart stutter and your breath catch in your throat.

“I been standing out here for the last twenty minutes trying to get the courage to knock,” He yelled so that the rain didn’t drown his words out. You could only stare at him with wide eyes, words escaping you. “From the moment I saw you, there was something about you that I couldn’t get out of my head, and I didn’t know what that meant. Until the night at the bar, when we played pool…” He took a breath before continuing, taking your silence as a chance to say what he wanted to say. “I am still so sorry about what happened after, and this sounds so fucked up, but I wish nothing more for that rumor to have been true… I wanted to kiss you at your car that night, I wanted to hear that little sound from the pool table again. Over and over.

You moving into town made me realize that I was settling with Danni. Thought she was going to be enough, but how could she be when you were the only thing on my mind? You take over my every waking thought, and you invade my dreams at night.” Your mind was buzzing as he continued to speak, unable to move or speak. “I have no idea what the future holds, but I knew that I would regret every day if I married her when I didn’t love her. I would regret not finding out what could have been with you…”

You didn’t let him continue, stepping out onto the patio to join him in the rain. Cupping his cheeks to pull his face to yours. The moment that your lips met, it was like the cold spring rain warmed, and every part of you was coming to life. His full lips felt slightly chapped, but still soft and even better than you had imagined.

Seungcheol didn’t react for a moment, taken off guard at your sudden action, before his body physically relaxed and returned your kiss. His arms slipped around your waist, pulling you flushed against his frame, his muscles firm under the soaked material and softness of his skin. He felt hot under your touch, running the tip of his tongue over the bottom of your lip, begging for more of you. Which you welcomed, now that you have finally tasted him, desperate for more.

He took over your every sense, after weeks of fighting the yearning feeling for him you let it win. Shattering the moment his tongue met yours, and all you could think about was him, Seungcheol. You needed him to keep touching you, needing to make up for the weeks of thinking about that small moment. To find out what this all meant. You knew you couldn’t stop as his own kiss grew desperate too.

Seungcheol needed this as much as you did. Maybe more, but there was no point in trying to play who needed it more. The point was that you both needed this, you both couldn’t keep pretending.

Slowly moving his hands from your waist, running them over the curve of your ass before grasping at your thighs to pull you up. You let out a soft gasp into his mouth when he lifted you, hooking your arms around his neck and your legs wrapped around his waist to brace yourself. His thick hands having a firm hold on you, letting your own hold around his neck loosen to push your fingers through his short hair. The strands still soaked from the rain, while you were no better off. Your own hair wet, sticking to your skin, and your clothes already soaked themselves.

Neither of you gave a shit though.

You couldn’t pull away from his mouth, not caring the need to breathe, so you didn’t notice that he had carried you back inside. You barely registered that you were no longer being pelted with rain in your make out and now in the warmth of your apartment. Nothing around you mattered except Seungcheol.

“No… no…” You gasped out the words when he pulled away, though your lung thanked the sudden rush of air to them. Both your lips were red, swollen, and wet from your kiss.

When he looked at you, it was with different eyes. Lids heavy, pupils blown out giving way to darkened swirls. The emotions that were etched in them earlier gone and replaced was a deep desire. A want that sent a fire through your body and settling in your core.

“Y/N…” If the way he was looking at you didn’t do you in, it was the way his voice came out in a deep rasp, heavy breaths to find the air you took from his lungs. You surged forward, crashing your lips against his as your fingers clung to his hair. Unable to hold back from kissing him again.

“Please…” You whispered against his lips, hoping that a simple sentence would tell him everything you were feeling in those moments. Everything you had been feeling over the weeks.

He was the key to turn you back on, the light at the end of a dark tunnel, and now that you had him. You weren’t going to let him go anytime soon.

You needed him. And you knew he needed you.

“Where’s your bed?” It was his only response, and every part of you now burning with need. The water on your skin drying from the heat of your skin.

You allowed him to pull away enough to watch where you gestured toward the full on the opposite end of the apartment. The dark bedding still a mess from when you woke that morning, not thinking about making it. His gaze followed your hand before nodding, taking long strides to your bed. While you took the liberties to kiss down his jaw to his neck, nipping gently at the skin before soothing it with a kiss.

Before you knew it, you felt your back hit the mattress as he laid you down, the weight of his body pressing down on you. Centering while the hard bulge in his pants threw you off kilter. Your patience growing thinner, ready to snap if you didn’t get to have more of him, but he was feeling the same.

First thing off was the wet button up of his, with you watching the way it peeled off his muscular frame. Letting you see those strong arms and shoulders of his, leading to thick pecks and a firm stomach. You caught the sight of a light trail of hair from his belly button leading under the waistband of his jeans. He only took off his shirt, and you were already clenching around nothing.

Next off was the green tank top you were wearing, peeling off the damp fabric to reveal what he was suspecting. You weren’t wearing a bra, making Seungcheol stop since he couldn’t tear his gaze from the swells and nipples hardened into peaks. Taking in the way they moved under your labored breath.

He kissed you again. This time slower, gentler, and nothing like how it was few minutes earlier. His lips molding against yours so well, already memorizing how you liked to be kissed; with his tongue sweeping over yours. You were on him, tracing up his back and felt the muscles from years of hard labor.

Moving his plush lips from yours to kiss over your jaw and neck. Planting slow open mouthed kisses across your skin, letting his tongue taste the salt on your skin while soothing any bites he delivered. A small whimper accompanied your rushed breathing, nails now running across his shoulders through his descent.

Seungcheol made sure to kiss over your collarbone, leaving reminders of him at the curve where it met your neck. Your back then arched when a rough calloused hand cupped one of your breasts, the pad of his thumb brushing over the bud as his mouth found the other.

“Fuck…” You whimpered at the contact, your thighs squeezing and hips rolling against his. A groan escaped him as he sucked and teased one breast while his hand made sure the other had attention before switching. Your own hands moving from his back to his hair once more.

Seungcheol snaked his free hand down to the button of your jean shorts, undoing it before pulling the zipper down. Just to free from slipping into them, under your underwear, and detached his mouth from your nipple now wet from his saliva, to look at you.

“Are you sure? We can wait…” He spoke softly, searching your eyes for any hesitation but you were never surer than you were then.

“I’m tired of waiting…Please Cheol…”

It was all he needed to hear, mouth finding yours while his hand slipped into your shorts and underwear. His finger brushed against your soaked folds, earning moans from you both. You completely surrendered to him.

His hands teased you as he left more reminds on your skin, the aching spots feeling like heaven, with the way his lips attempted to memorize the softness of your skin and the curves of your body. Your shorts and underwear were discarded soon after, legs spread open by his shoulders, leaving you naked and bare for him.

You thought you saw stars when his mouth attached itself to your cunt, his eyes rolling at the first taste of you and hooked your legs over his shoulders. His arms wrapped around your thighs to keep you there, not holding back. Licking and eating you as if starved, his tongue learning every inch of you as he drank the arousal that was dropping from you. When he slipped a thick finger inside, the groan that left him vibrated through your body. Feeling your gummy walls grip at his finger tightly, making him rut into your mattress. The springs squeaking under the roll of his hips.

“You’re so perfect,” You heard him say, muffled because he couldn’t tear himself away to speak properly. Growing addicted to the way you tasted, felt, and the little sounds leaving you. Better than the one from that night.

Adding another finger, he curved them just right, making you shatter. Your whole body vibrating as his name echoed from your lips, a chant as he drank all you gave. His lips and chin glistening with you when he finally pulled away, looking up with a fucked out face that rivaled yours. The sound of the bed moving from his ruts met your ringing ears, making you think about how hard he had to be. Making you clench around his fingers, bringing a smirk to those shiny lips.

“You still want more?” He asked teasingly, moving the digits inside you at a slower pace, unable to stop himself from latching onto your clit again. His eyes looking at you from between your legs, drunk on you. The time it felt like he was prepping you, stretching your tightness to accommodate him.

You both knew where this was heading, and neither of you wanted to stop.

Seungcheol drew another orgasm from you before finally moving the last of his clothes, the sound of soft fabric hitting the floor. Leaving him standing there in front of you, completely bare and on display for you. His thick cock hard, precum leaking and smeared over his tip. It looked bigger than it felt in his pants, and you couldn’t stop from salivating at the sight.

You needed it in you.

When he joined you on the bed once more, going slow with his movement and watched for any signs of you backing out. He wanted to make sure because he knew he would never want to be without you again. Only there was no signs of doubt, your eyes heavy with need and want, especially because of the sureness in his.

Settling back between your legs, his cock brushed against your cunt, collecting your arousal against the underside of it. It made you both shutter, with you grinding your hips for more. With one hand braced next to your head, Seungcheol planted a lingering kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself while his other slipped between you.

Grasping his cock to line himself up with you.

“Ready?” He rasped out, pressing his forehead against yours while his other head pressed against your entrance. You nod quickly, wrapping yourself around him. Completely his. “Look at me.”

You didn’t know you closed your eyes until you opened them, both of you watching the other’s reaction when he pushed in. The stretch made your mouth fall open with a high pitch gasp while a string of curses left his. Your walls gripped at him when he thrusted forward, filling you to the hilt.

“Cheol…” You managed to get out, your body shaking as you got used to his size, feeling bigger now that he was in you.

“Yes, baby?” He grunted out, every part of him stopping himself from fucking you like he wanted. It was hard since you squeezed him so snuggly, wrapping around him like you were made for him.

“Fuck me..” It was all he needed to hear, pulling his cock halfway before thrusting back into you. Unleashing something inside both of you, your wanton cries echoed against the walls of the apartment, mixing with the sounds of his own moans and the slapping of skin against skin.

Your nails racked down his back, trying to meet his every thrust but couldn’t with how you were spread out. Leaving you to his mercy and the build that was starting to grow again with every drag of his cock against your walls. Close to a third release.

Seungcheol’s mouth was all over you, over the column of your neck, to your shoulders, to your breasts. Causing your back to arched when he took a nipple into his mouth, one hand holding onto the fatty flesh with the other found purchase between your legs. His fingertips brushing where you two met, feeling the slickness of your arousal and his precum mixed, before finding your clit.

He was not going to be able to hold out much longer, not with the way you were covering him and gripping at him like a vice. But he refused to until he drew a third orgasm from you. He needed it before his own release.

“Cheol…” You cried out, your hands reaching to grab anything to anchor you as the knot in your core started to snap. His hair, your own hair, the bedding, your breasts, his biceps, nails leaving red scratches over his body where you grabbed and scratched at him.

“Cum for me, Y/N… I’m not far off…” He groaned out, keeping his gaze on you, his cock and fingers helping you let go.

His own released chased after yours, unable to hold out from the way you spasmed and squeezed around him, making it impossible to pull out, or want to. Releasing ropes of his cum inside your inner walls, Seungcheol buried his face into his neck as he did. Groaning and whimpering as he filled you.

Leaving you full of him after he finally pulls out.

Both of you refused to let go of the other or separated until you couldn’t stay connected any longer.

“Do you want to know why I moved her?” You asked, your fingertips tracing the olive tree tattoo on his back, making him turn his head in your direction.

“If you want to tell me.” He said softly, his eyes slowly opening to look at you, the sound of your voice, the soft tracing of your fingers. and the pattering rain outside lulling him into a light doze.

“My mom died last summer,” You started, pain lacing through your words, but you didn’t stop, “Then my old landlord decided to evict me by changing the locks and locking me out of my own apartment. I ended up having to break in to get Max and anything I could carry and put in my car. Then I left, drove until I came upon this town and the diner,” You took a deep breath, swallowing the tears that wanted to fall, “Max couldn’t be in that small carrier much longer, while I was just tired and starving. Neither of us could keep going like that, so I took my chances by asking Mingyu for a job and where I can find a place to live.”

Seungcheol rolled over, so he was now on his back before he reached for you. Pulling you into his arms and let you rest your head against his chest, feeling a stray tear hit his chest.

“I’m sorry about your mom.” He said softly, pressing his lips against the top of your head. Your own arms now tight around his waist. Holding onto him like he was your anchor to this world. “This town probably didn’t help though.”

“Words are nothing,” You say, turning your head to look at him, only to see he was watching you. His hair sticking up in different directions from your hands, lips well kissed, and so fucking beautiful. “I’ve head worse over the years from a bunch of assholes in the scene I was in. I could have let them take me down, let them hinder me trying to move on, let them break me, but my mom taught me better than that. Only words and opinions that should matter are my own.”

“So, you don’t regret moving here?” He asked, and you smile.

“No, in fact, you make me want to stay more. Be able to call this place home.” With that, you adjusted yourself to kiss him. One that he returned eagerly.

Thank you for reading!! I do hope you enjoyed and I hope I did our Coupsie justice.

Reblogs, and comments are appreciated! It doesn't just let my fic reach more people, it also is great to kno I am doing well!

Please also go show love to the rest of the fics of this collabs when they are posted!

<3

[leigh-darling]

I loved this! You captured Cheol and small town hell perfectly! Well done!

❤️❤️

[808luvrr]

One Week Left

pairing - non idol ! seungcheol x f.reader [fluff/angst]

summary → you and seungcheol became best friends freshman year of college, drifting into something softer and unspoken by junior year when you became roommates. now, after graduating, he has one week left before enlistment— a countdown tied to his future at his father’s company and the life waiting for him after completing service. but between a simple haircut in your shared bathroom and the weight of leaving, everything he’s kept buried finally spills out, because what he’s really afraid of isn’t enlistment… it’s leaving the person he’s been secretly in love with for years

word count - 3.7k

warnings! → friends to lovers, roommates to lovers, mutual pining, love confession, yearning, seungcheol being devastatingly in love, military enlistment mention, pre-enlistment emotions, kissing/making out- no smut, years of repressed feelings, bathroom confession scene, soft/domestic intimacy, suggestive ending, happy ending, two idiots finally communicating, *additional parts will probably be written

The bathroom smelled like vanilla, clean laundry, and Seungcheol’s cologne. The one he always wore without thinking. That warm, slightly spicy scent that clung to his hoodies and lingered in the apartment long after he’d walked out of a room.

It mixed with the softness of vanilla melting through the air in slow, comforting waves, trying to wrap the moment in something gentler than what it really was.

Clean laundry hung nearby from the rack beside the shower, still faintly warm from the dryer, fabric softener folding itself into the air every time you moved. It made the space feel lived in, like any other night, like nothing was about to change.

Like he wasn’t leaving in a week.

You’d lit the candle earlier to keep things feeling normal. Because to you, this wasn’t goodbye.

Not really.

It was just something difficult he had to get through before coming back home again.

But sitting in front of the mirror while strands of dark hair fell steadily around him, Seungcheol felt every inch of this moment settling into his chest with terrifying finality.

The low buzz of the clippers sounded too loud in the small bathroom. Every pass against his scalp stripped away another piece of familiarity, and with each lock of hair hitting the tile floor, the reality became harder to ignore.

One week.

One week before he left behind the apartment that had become more his home than any place ever had before.

One week before leaving you.

Meanwhile, you stayed focused carefully behind him. Occasionally brushing loose strands from his shoulders and chatting softly about completely ordinary things. The grocery list for tomorrow, your cafe manager finally fixing the broken espresso machine, and which of your friends would inevitably cry the most dramatically at the enlistment send off. 

Like this was temporary. Like the two of you would naturally fall back into this exact rhythm again once he returned.

And maybe that should’ve comforted him. Instead, it only made the ache in his chest worse.

You swallowed around the lump in your throat and focused on the careful motion of your wrist.

One more pass.

The clippers hummed over the back of his head, leaving behind soft dark stubble. You stepped back slightly, examining your work before flicking the power off. Silence settled heavily between you.

“There,” you said quietly.

You brushed the loose hair from his neck before running your palm gently over the freshly shaved skin. The texture made your chest ache unexpectedly.

“All done.” A small smile tugged at your lips as you leaned down into his line of sight through the mirror. “Wow. Okay, it definitely looks weird.”

His brows lifted faintly.

“Not bad weird,” you corrected quickly, laughing softly. “Just.. you’ve never had your hair this short before.” Your fingers rubbed over the top of his head again playfully. “You actually look really cute.”

You moved around the stool until you stood between his knees, his legs naturally parting to make room for you in the cramped bathroom. Your hands stayed on his head, thumbs brushing along his temples while you grinned down at him.

It was the smile that always ruined him.

The one that crinkled your eyes slightly. That he’d watched across lecture halls and grocery aisles and lazy Sunday mornings in your shared apartment kitchen. The one that had slowly, disastrously made him fall in love with you years ago.

But instead of smiling back, his expression only seemed to sink further.

Your own smile faltered.

“Cheol?”

He looked away. His gaze dropped to the floor instead, landing on the ridiculous fuzzy green house slippers covering your feet.

The pair he bought you two winters ago after you’d spent twenty minutes dramatically mourning them in the middle of a department store because you couldn’t afford “unnecessary purchases” until your next paycheck from the café.

You’d worn them nearly every day since.

“Seungcheol,” you said again, softer this time, but still nothing.

You reached down, fingers curling around his chin until you gently tilted his face back toward you.

“Earth to Cheol?”

He swallowed hard, his eyes still locked downwards.

“I don’t want to go.”

The words came out rough, and your chest tightened immediately.

“I know,” you said carefully. “It’s not exactly an easy thing.”

You tried to give a reassuring smile again, thumb brushing along his cheek.

“But you’ll be back before you know it. And then you’ll start at your dad’s company and everything’ll work out.” You shrugged lightly. “Unless you can convince your dad to rearrange the plan somehow?”

He shook his head once.

“That’s not it.”

“Then what?”

His eyes finally met yours fully, and it nearly undid him.

Because you were looking at him the same way you always did. Soft, patient, worried for him before yourself. Standing between his knees in those stupid fuzzy green slippers, your fingers still warm against his skin from where you’d rubbed over his freshly shaved head, completely unaware you were holding his entire heart in your hands.

God. How was he supposed to leave this?

How was he supposed to pack up two years of shared mornings, late night convenience store runs and you humming in the kitchen while making coffee half asleep and just, walk away from it? From you?

His chest tightened painfully. All he could think about was time.

A week from now, he’d be gone, and life would keep moving without him.

You’d still go to the café on weekends. Burn pancakes every Sunday morning because you refuse to turn the heat down, and still laugh so hard at dumb movies you’d snort without realizing it.

But eventually, someone else might be there to see it. Someone else might start memorizing the little things about you the way he had.

Someone else might carry your grocery bags, and sit in his spot beside you at bars. Walk home with you at night, or hear you call their name from another room instead of his.

The thought made him feel sick.

Because Seungcheol had spent years pretending what existed between you was enough. Pretending friendship didn’t already feel dangerously close to love. Pretending he could survive watching you belong to somebody else someday.

But now there was an expiration date looming over him, and suddenly every second with you felt fragile. Temporary.

His throat tightened before speaking again.

“I don’t want to leave you.”

The words came out quieter than he intended. Not because he was unsure, but because saying them out loud made everything terrifyingly real.

Your heart stumbled at the words, a sharp, disorienting skip you immediately tried to dismiss. No, that wasn’t what he meant. It couldn’t be.

You latched onto the thought almost instinctively, like a reflex. Like you’d done a hundred times before whenever something about him felt like it tipped too close to something you weren’t supposed to look at too long.

He’s Seungcheol. Your best friend. Your roommate. The person who had been woven into the shape of your days for four years until it didn’t even feel like separate lives anymore.

That’s all this was. It had to be.

So you laughed softly anyways, a little too quick, a little too light, as if you could smooth the moment over before it had time to turn into anything else in your mind.

“You’re such a baby,” you teased gently. “I’ll still be here when you get out.” You squeezed his shoulders. “Plus, you’ll get leave sometimes, right? We’ll still hang out.”

He shook his head again, sharper this time.

Before you could say anything else, his hands suddenly wrapped around your wrists, stopping your movements against his shoulders. Slowly, he slid his hands down until his fingers intertwined with yours. And when he spoke again, his voice had changed completely.

Serious. Low. Almost trembling.

“I don’t want to leave you,” He repeated, his tone vulnerable and bare.

The air shifted. Your smile faded entirely now.

“Cheol..”

“I don’t want to leave and come back and..” He exhaled shakily, eyes squeezing shut for a second before reopening. “Be replaced.”

Confusion flickered across your face.

“Replaced? Seungcheol, what are you talking about? You’ll always—”

“I don’t want another guy taking my place in your life.”

The words hit you so hard you went completely still. For a second, your brain genuinely couldn’t process them. Not because you didn’t understand what he was saying, but because some terrified hidden part of you had spent years convincing yourself you imagined all of it.

The lingering looks, the way his hand always found the small of your back in crowded places. How naturally the two of you moved around each other like you’d built a life together without realizing it. The quiet domesticity of him bringing you home your favorite snacks without asking. Falling asleep together on the couch, sharing inside jokes, or tying his tie for him when he has to visit his fathers company building. 

Like he belonged in every crevice of your daily life. 

You had spent so long forcing yourself not to read into it. Because Seungcheol was Seungcheol. Your best friend, Your roommate, the person who had become home so slowly you never even noticed it happening.

And loving him had always felt dangerous. So instead, you suppressed it.

Buried every flutter in your chest when strangers mistakenly called you his girlfriend. How much you loved hearing him laugh from another room. Locked away the embarrassing ache you felt whenever he looked especially handsome before going out somewhere. Ignoring the way your heart would sink anytime another woman flirted with him in front of you.

You told yourself it was safer that way. Better to keep him as your best friend than risk losing him entirely. But now he was sitting in front of you looking terrified of losing you, and suddenly every moment over the last four years came crashing together so violently it almost made your chest hurt.

Your throat tightened painfully as you stared at him, your pulse pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears.

Meanwhile Seungcheol looked seconds away from unraveling completely, like he already regretted saying it out loud.

And somehow that made it worse. Because all this time, he’d been carrying the same feelings you had.

He laughed once under his breath, but there was nothing amusing about it.

“We live together,” he said quietly. “We cook together. We grocery shop together. We do laundry together. We spend every stupid Sunday rotting on the couch watching movies neither of us actually likes because we’re too lazy to change them.”

Your lips parted slightly.

“And somewhere along the way my feelings stopped being normal.”” He shook his head, his thumbs rubbed nervously against your knuckles.

“I like when strangers think we’re together.”

Your breath caught.

“I like when we argue over ramen flavors in the store and old women smile at us like we’re married already.” His eyes flickered up to yours finally. “I like when we go out drinking and some guy starts trying to flirt with you, but the second I walk back over beside you he leaves because he thinks I’m your boyfriend.” His voice softened painfully. “I like taking care of you.”

Your chest felt impossibly tight now, every feeling you had spent years carefully locking away had suddenly cracked open all at once.

It hurt. Not in a bad way, not really. Just, too much.

Too much affection. Too much relief. Too much longing you’d trained yourself not to touch because wanting Seungcheol had always felt like standing too close to the edge of something dangerous.

Your eyes burned as you stared at him. At the boy who had unknowingly become the center of your entire life, and now he was sitting here looking at you like losing you would ruin him.

The realization nearly knocked the air from your lungs. Because all this time, you thought you were the only one aching quietly through all those little moments.

All those nights lying awake in your room wondering what would happen if you reached for him first. All those mornings watching him half asleep in the kitchen, thinking with painful certainty that someday another woman would get this version of him instead.

But he was looking at you now with the same fear.

“I like knowing how you take your coffee.” He laughed quietly. “I like that you steal my hoodies and leave hair ties everywhere and sing badly when you clean the apartment. I like that you always save me the last dumpling even though it’s your favorite food.” His eyes glistened slightly. “I like coming home to you.”

The room felt too small, too warm.

The tiny bathroom that had always felt ordinary suddenly seemed intimate in a way it never had before. His knees brushing against your thighs, your hands still trapped in his, the soft buzz of the overhead light filling the silence between every shaky breath.

You could hear everything. The uneven rhythm of his breathing. The faint drip of the faucet. Your own heartbeat pounding violently in your ears.

And Seungcheol was close. So close enough that you could see the nervous swallow in his throat. Close enough to notice the slight tremble in his fingers where they held yours. Close enough that if you leaned forward even an inch, both of your foreheads would touch.

It made you dizzy.

Because suddenly every little domestic moment you both shared in this apartment over the years felt charged with something you’d spent too long pretending not to notice.

Late night conversations in this same bathroom while brushing your teeth. Him standing shirtless in the doorway after showers with wet hair dripping onto the floor while you complained at him to clean it up. You sitting on the counter while he shaved, talking about absolutely nothing for an hour because being near each other had always been enough.

How had you both survived living like this for years without combusting?

The warmth crawling up your neck had nothing to do with the bathroom anymore. It was him.

The way he was looking at you now, open and terrified, aching with love he could barely contain made the entire room feel suffocatingly small.. and he still wasn’t done.

“I love how excited you get over stupid little things,” he whispered. “Like finding books at thrift stores or those ugly ceramic frogs you keep collecting for some reason—”

“They’re vintage,” you muttered automatically through the overwhelming emotion building in your chest.

He huffed out a broken laugh. “See?”

And there it was again. That ridiculous, earnest defensiveness over something objectively stupid. Even now, standing in the middle of a life altering confession, both of you seconds from emotionally unraveling, you still couldn’t help correcting him about the ceramic frogs. It hit him with such painful affection he thought his chest might split open.

Because that was you. 

You cared so deeply about little things, threw your whole heart behind harmless, ridiculous things without embarrassment. You made ordinary moments feel alive simply because you existed inside them so fully, and Seungcheol had spent years helplessly falling in love with every tiny piece of it.

The way you argued passionately about thrift store finds. How you got distracted halfway through serious conversations because a dog walked past the window. The way you always, always found something to love in things other people overlooked.

Even now, with tears gathering in your eyes and his confession hanging heavily between you, your instinct has been to defend your stupid frog collection.

God. How was he ever supposed to leave someone like you behind?

Your eyes burned.

“I’m in love with you,” he finally admitted.

The words hung between you, raw and terrifying.

“And I’m horrified that while I’m gone, somebody else is gonna get all of this instead.” His voice cracked slightly now. “Somebody else gets to live with you and cook with you and hear you laugh at two in the morning and hold your hand in public and–” He stopped to breathe shakily. “I had to tell you before I left,” he whispered. “Even if you don’t feel the same. Because I think it would actually kill me if I came back and you belonged to someone else.”

Silence. Complete silence. Seungcheol’s heart pounded so violently he thought he might actually throw up.

Then suddenly, you laughed.

His brows furrowed immediately.

“What?”

You laughed harder, one hand flying up to cover your mouth as tears filled your eyes now.

“Why are you laughing?” he asked, completely bewildered as you breathed between laughs. 

“We are two huge idiots.”

He blinked at you.

“What?”

You shook your head, smiling so brightly it nearly knocked the breath from him.

Then you leaned down and kissed him.

Seungcheol froze. For one stunned second, his brain stopped functioning altogether.

But then his hands were suddenly at your waist, gripping tightly as he kissed you back with years of buried longing crashing into the moment all at once.

The kiss deepened instantly. Messy, desperate, relieved. 

You could feel the shaky exhale leave him as he pulled you closer between his legs, your fingers sliding over the newly shaved sides of his head as you kissed him again and again.

When you finally pulled apart for air, both of you breathless, he rested his forehead against yours in disbelief.

“You idiot,” you whispered fondly, still smiling like you couldn’t quite believe him.

“You love me?” he asked, quieter this time, like saying it wrong might make it disappear. Like he still couldn’t fully trust it was real.

You hummed, pretending to think about it as your fingers absently traced the back of his hand.

“Unfortunately for you,” you said lightly, “yes.”

His breath caught just slightly. Then, like something finally clicking into place behind his eyes, his expression shifted.

“Since when?”

The question wasn’t playful anymore. It was careful and serious.

Your teasing smile softened at the edges, but you didn’t look away. “Junior year,” you said simply.

His brows pulled together immediately. “Junior year?”

You nodded once, like it should’ve been obvious, but it wasn’t. And you let him sit in it for a second longer before you added, softer now, just a little less teasing.

“You came back to the apartment at like 1am during midterms week,” you said. “And I was on the kitchen floor because I’d completely given up on studying.” Something in his expression shifted instantly.

“Oh.”

You nodded, watching him remember it piece by piece.

“I wasn’t sick,” you continued. “I wasn’t anything dramatic. I was just.. exhausted. Like, the kind where you feel stupid for crying but you can’t stop anyway.” His thumb tightened slightly against your hand. “And you didn’t try to fix it,” you said, voice quieter now. “You just sat down next to me on the floor like it was the most normal thing in the world and started going through my notes with me.”

A faint, almost disbelieving smile flickered on his lips. He remembered now, too. Especially how pretty you still looked when you sat in front of the kitchen stove covered in a sea of notebook paper.

“And you didn’t say anything about it being late, or how tired you were,” you added. “You just stayed until I stopped crying.” You shrugged slightly, like you were trying to make it sound small.

Seungcheol went quiet. Really quiet. Like he was realizing something he’d never considered before, that for him it had just been another night of taking care of you, showing up for you, but for you, it had been the night you started loving him.

A disbelieving laugh escaped him.

Then you grinned suddenly, mischief returning to your expression.

“So while you’re gone,” you said casually, “which room should I combine our stuff into?”

He blinked.

“Huh?”

“You know,” you continued innocently, in a way only you could. “Since obviously one room becomes ours and the other becomes a spare room.”

He let out a loud scoff laugh, shaking his head in disbelief before suddenly standing up. You squealed as he grabbed your thighs and lifted you effortlessly.

“Wow,” you laughed breathlessly, your arms sliding around his shoulders while your legs wrapped around his waist. “Someone got confident really fast.”

Seungcheol looked up at you with a grin that was equal parts smug and completely lovestruck.

“You kissed me first,” he pointed out.

“You confessed first.”

“And now I’m making up for lost time.”

Heat rushed to your face instantly at the way he said it, low and certain, like something in him had finally snapped after years of holding himself back.

You tried to laugh it off anyway. “Oh, so this is who you are now?”

“This,” he said, tightening his grip slightly beneath your thighs, “is who I’ve been trying not to be around you for four years.”

Your stomach flipped violently.

“Cheol–”

“I’m serious.” His eyes flickered down to your lips again. “Do you know how hard it’s been living with you looking like that all the time?”

You let out an incredulous laugh. “Looking like what?”

“Like my girlfriend,” he answered immediately.

The bluntness of it made your breath catch.

“And now you actually are. No take backs,” he murmured, sounding a little stunned by the realization himself. Then his mouth curled into something more teasing. “So yeah,” he said softly, stepping closer until your back brushed the bathroom wall, “I’m gonna be confident for a minute.”

Before you could recover from that, he kissed you again, slower this time, deeper, like now that he finally had permission he never wanted to stop touching you.

Butterflies exploded in your stomach.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours again, eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“We can figure the room thing out later,” he murmured. “But we only have one week before I leave.” Your breath caught at the look in his eyes. “And there are a lot of things I’ve been fantasizing about doing with you.”

Heat rushed to your face instantly.

“Choi Seungcheol!”

He grinned for the first time all night. Then he carried you out of the bathroom and down the hall toward his bedroom while your laughter echoed through the apartment the two of you had unknowingly turned into a home together years ago.

[chwedout]

MINGYU + THE8 13 ANGRY MEN ☆ GOING SEVENTEEN for @orangerainforest ♡

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VENUS x JIHYO

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THE SLIGHT UNDERCUT 😭 ⭐︎ cr. _abl_