roma★
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Andulka
Xuebing Du
occasionally subtle
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
tannertan36
we're not kids anymore.
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Discoholic 🪩
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NASA
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YOU ARE THE REASON
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Claire Keane
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Not today Justin
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@mysnoopyvalentine
⋆ ˚ ˖ ° michelle, 20s, she/her ° ˖ ˚ ⋆
♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ MASTERLIST ⋅ ˚ ₊‧ ♡
⋆ writing only sfw content as of now!
⋆ no requests, but general asks are welcome :)
⋆ currently writing for nct only
⋆ just for fun; posting times will vary
⋆ most recent: kim jungwoo - by chance
Queen where are you?? Ur my only source of jw fics❤️
i'm alive!! life's been putting me through the RINGER for the last few months, so in all honesty I've been struggling to set aside time for writing :-(
that being said, I finally have time again (YAY) and I'm back to actively working on things!! 🥹
I really appreciate the check-ins and also the new people that have trickled in while I was away 🤍 here is a quick look at what I have currently planned & hints of what I'm working on:
jaemin x reader (more info + summary @ end) - 85% completed, estimated final word count is 17-20k... ⛸️🤍📸
jaehyun x reader - 60% completed, target word count 7.5k 🍸☁️
jungwoo x reader - planned, early draft stages, target word count 7k 🌃 💼🤎
haechan x reader - 2k words drafted, target word count TBD because I have a feeling this one might get long ☀️🕶️🚕
I don't want to set specific "planned" release times for any of these just in case life decides to suplex me again LMAOOO but I am hoping for all of these by the end of summer ! 🤞🏼
I will say that I'm really pushing myself to finish drafting the last bit of Jaemin's fic this week so I can move onto editing!! I want to release this story so bad, but it's a bit of a monster right now 🥲 it reminds me a lot of drafting soul ties in the sense that neither came easily to me and I really just have to push through that writer's block (also doesn't help that my target count was like 12k and I'm currently at like 16k)
as a little treat here is a reveal of the title and summary of my upcoming jaemin fic:
ice prince | na jaemin x reader | ft. sunghoon
word count: TBD but lookin like 17-20k because I can't control myself
genre: figure skating AU, fluff, PR relationship/fake dating, speed skater!Jaemin x figure skater!reader, childhood friends to lovers, female identifying reader
warnings: light partying, brief depictions of grief
playlist: true romance (pinkpantheress) | the perfect pair (beabadoobee) | prague (jack harlow) | with me (0WAVE) | next to me (JUNNY) | sexier (nct jnjm)
summary:
In the midst of a career comeback following a debilitating injury, a reckless night cements your fall from grace as the Nation’s Skating Sweetheart. As everything comes crashing down, an opportunity presents itself: your childhood crush, Jaemin, proposes a PR relationship to support both of your returns to the skating world. As your fabricated relationship throws you further into the spotlight, you’re not sure which is harder – redeeming your reputation, or trying not to fall for Na Jaemin all over again.
hopefully that gives you guys some things to look forward to!! see you guys again soon 🤍
good news: jaemin fic is almost done!!!
neutral news: it was supposed to be like 8k and now it's well above 10k with still more to go
bad news: i suck at making banners for my fics
by chance | k.jw
kim jungwoo x reader | happy jungwoo day! 🐶💗
word count: 12.7k
genre: college!AU, fluff, frenemies to lovers, slight academic rivals to lovers, engineering student!Jungwoo & Reader, female identifying reader
warnings: swearing, drinking
playlist:
CRUSH (sunkis, ASTN, Bren Joy) | falling for a friend (grentperez) | honey (boy pablo) | feel the same (the millennial club) | glue song (beabadoobee)
summary:
After three years of being paired with Kim Jungwoo in almost every group project, you start to realize that your least favorite partner might not be so random—or so unbearable—after all.
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
If there’s anything you hated the most about college (aside from the ever surmounting tuition fees), it would be mandated group projects. It was a lose-lose situation; a group of strangers almost never divided the work fairly, and you’d found that even working with friends often strained the relationship until the dust settled. The most offensive group projects of them all, in your opinion, always included randomized group members that you’d be stuck with for the entire term.
So when you walk into the second session for your Intro to Material Science class and see group project spread across each week’s coursework plan, you feel like crying. Even worse, you see that group selection occurred during the last class period, which you missed due to a doctor’s appointment. At the time you’d thought that missing syllabus day wouldn’t hurt, but for once that had been the worst timing possible.
Professor Jang lectures for half of the class period before flipping to a slide that just reads Group Time!
“Now,” your professor says with a clap of his hands. “I am giving you the rare but useful opportunity to work on your group project in class with your groupmates. Remember—if you haven’t already exchanged contact information, please do so. While these groups will also be your small groups for in-class discussions and problems, I will probably not be giving you a lot of chances to work on your actual project during class.”
You slink up to your TA as the other students shuffle themselves into their groups.
“Hi,” you say with a nervous laugh. “I was gone last class, could I have some help finding my group?”
“Sure!” Your TA says with a smile. When you’ve given her your name, she scrolls through a list on her laptop. “So it says right here that your partners are Jeong Jaehyun, Lee Mark, and–”
You hear a familiar voice shout your name, and all the hairs on your neck stand on end. You turn around slowly, and sure enough—
It’s Jungwoo waving you down to his table at the far corner of the room. His energy far exceeds the enthusiasm of the other two group members, who tap through their phones in bored scrolls.
You’d first encountered Kim Jungwoo on the very first day of college. You’d stumbled into your first Intro to Engineering class scared of your impending course load and nervous to meet new people. You’d claimed a safe enough seat—not too close to the front, but also not in the dead back—and been caught off guard when your seat partner immediately turned to introduce himself. At the time Jungwoo had been a welcome source of social relief, especially when you ended up being paired in a group project together in that same class.
It wasn’t that Jungwoo had a bad work ethic or couldn’t grasp the concerts. He was simply too smart and involved for his own good. Among a wave of socially awkward engineering students, he was quick to take charge and transform the atmosphere into something more comfortable. Guys loved him, and you could see girls developing crushes on him in real time.
While his charisma was something you’d usually appreciate in the midst of meeting random people, he always seemed to enjoy messing with you in particular. He looped you in as the butt of the joke constantly with the guys. When you had to split into pairs and girls would turn to him with a hopeful sheen in their eyes, you would see their hope transform into hatred when he would turn to trap you as his partner. In your small bubble that was desperate to make friends in your own major, Kim Jungwoo was the reason why the girls hated you and the guys couldn’t take you seriously. As if it wasn’t bad enough, he outperformed you on nearly every single quiz, homework assignment, and exam possible.
On top of it all, you’d been paired with him in at least one group project every term since that very first class together. In your third year, this most recent project would now tally into a grand total of nine projects together. Nine projects and zero new friends.
Jungwoo continues waving until you’ve reached the group’s spot. “I’m surprised you didn’t see me earlier. I was trying to wave you down before you walked up to the TA.”
You shrug. “I was too focused, I guess.”
The other two group mates at the table look up from their phones when they hear your voice.
“My name’s Mark,” the first guy says while extending his hand. He has a slight baby face that makes you pause.
“You’re a third year?” You ask, the shock protruding through your voice.
He slouches. “First year.”
“He already took all of the early math requirements before enrolling, so he’s taking all the classes with no prerequisites,” Jungwoo explains. Intro to Material Science was one of the few engineering classes with no prerequisites, but most people took it in their last two years since there weren’t many upper division classes that required it either.
“You must be smart, then,” you smile.
Mark mumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch.
You’re about to ask him to repeat when the second guy at the table extends his hand. “Jaehyun. In my last year.”
You gulp. Jaehyun is what you would typically describe as your type, down to his deep voice and strong features. You stammer through your name and year before opening your laptop in the desperate hope of concealing your brain short circuiting.
You feel Jungwoo’s stare as you stumble through your introduction. His eyes don’t leave your face, even as you’re pulling up the project description from the course website. When it starts to make it difficult for you to focus on what you’re reading at all, you whip your gaze over to meet his.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” You hiss at him as Mark and Jaehyun are engaged in some sort of conversation about music. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No.” His face is uncharacteristically blank.
“Then what?”
“Nothing,” he says, turning away.
It’s the most terse he’s ever been with you. Of all the times you’ve wished he would stop talking, of course he ignores you when you actually want him to speak on something.
For once, you’re the one taking hold of the conversation with your other two groupmates. You find out the three of them are actually old friends and that both Jaehyun and Mark are taking the class as part of a minor.
“Ah, I was wondering how I’d never met either of you before,” you say as you lean back in your chair. “Although, now that I think about it, I somehow haven’t met any of your friends outside of our engineering major—right, Jungwoo?”
“Yeah,” Jungwoo replies without glancing up. He’s typing on a slide titled Busy Dog Incorporated, which is supposedly the fake company name your group mates had settled on for the project. “Weird.”
Mark and Jaehyun exchange a look.
“He probably knows that we’d make him look bad in front of his engineering friends,” Jaehyun jokes.
You’re grateful to Jaehyun for saving you from a completely awkward atmosphere yet too intimidated to maintain eye contact with him. You look back down at your laptop with a nervous laugh. When you work up the courage to peek around at the group again, Jungwoo’s gaze is lasered back in on you.
His stare is so unexpectedly intense that it makes your heart jump in your chest. You’d always seen Jungwoo as a guy too chatty and goofy for his own good, but you’re taken aback by the seriousness in his eyes. Had you done something wrong?
You’re relieved when you hear the sound of zipping and shuffling as people start to leave, and you quickly follow suit. It’s only when you pack up your things that you realize your next class is specific to mechanical engineering students, which means you and Jungwoo will in fact be heading to the same destination.
Not wanting to be rude, you face Jaehyun and Mark. “It was nice meeting you both,” you say with a polite smile. “I’ll see you guys again next class?”
Jaehyun opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted as something hooks onto the top handle loop of your backpack. Your torso is lifted up and turned around in the complete opposite direction.
“Let’s go.” The tone in Jungwoo’s voice is back to normal in its casualness, but his grip on your bag is ironclad. “We’re gonna be late. See you guys!”
You barely have time to turn around with a final wave before Jungwoo marches you out of the lecture hall like a puppy being dragged by its scruff.
Outside of the room’s double doors, you tug yourself free. “Jeez, chill out. I can walk by myself, you know.”
“I was just making sure we left on time.” He shrugs. “You missed the first lecture for this class too, but he announced that we have a quiz for attendance at the beginning of class today.”
Your eye twitches in irritation. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
The two of you are sprinting across campus in the next instant.
He’s laughing and shouting absurdities into the wind, and you’re staring at him like he’s a crazed wild animal. Your mind struggles to compare his current hyperactiveness with the intensity from earlier. Did something happen? Why on earth was he being so weird today?
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
You look forward to your materials class with a cautious optimism about the possibility of developing new class friendships. Jaehyun had spoken to you easily, after all, and Mark seemed friendly enough. There was a lower chance of the conversation being swept away by Jungwoo’s charm, since they seemed to know each other well already.
When you scan the seats in the lecture hall and only find one empty seat next to Jungwoo himself, you feel your heart sink.
“Your friends couldn’t make it today?” You ask as casually as possible.
Jungwoo shrugs. “Mark had to study for another class, and Jaehyun had work.”
“He scheduled work during class?” Jaehyun seemed relatively laid back, but not that relaxed.
“This class is just for their minors, and attendance isn’t mandatory.” His eyes slide to yours. “Why? Did you need to talk to him?”
“I–no.” You trip on your own words. You were not about to admit that you had gotten excited about the mere prospect of class friends. “I was just curious.”
You figure their absences will vary like any other busy college student, but you’re proven wrong the next class when neither show face yet again. Or the next week.
It’s the strangest project dynamic yet. Sure, you hate randomly assigned group projects, but you also prefer that your groupmates show up. Both guys complete all their work on time and respond almost instantaneously in the group chat, which perplexes you even more. Since they were at your every beck and call virtually, they could very well just come to class.
You try to go around the attendance issue by using the group chat to schedule a casual project meetup outside of class. It’s giving them the benefit of the doubt, really. You’re outside the doors of the meeting place–your favorite cafe on campus–when your phone vibrates three times.
Jungwoo’s first. Just sat down :)
Mark’s message pops up next: Can’t make it today guys, I have to go back home this weekend :( Sorry about the last minute cancellation, lmk if I need to update anything on my side!
Jaehyun follows within the same minute: can’t make it either, had to pick up someone’s shift as a favor.
You throw the cafe door open and march inside. When Jungwoo waves from a table in the far corner, you change direction and stomp towards him.
“Did I do something to piss off your friends?”
“Uh, hi to you too—”
Your nostrils flare as you release your temper. “I’m being serious! Why are they being so flaky?”
“Hey, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He throws his hands up. “Are they not coming anymore?”
You flip your phone around to display the group chat, too impatient to wait for him to take out his own phone.
He reads the messages before sighing. “I promise I didn’t know.”
“You really promise?”
“I didn’t!”
You glare and scan him for any trace of dishonesty. Nearly three years of group work together had exposed you to most of Jungwoo’s mannerisms, down to the minute changes in his facial expressions and body language. In this case, his wide eyes and frozen shoulders speak for themselves—he genuinely had no idea that they would cancel.
“Fine,” you sigh. “We can still go over what we need to. Let me order my drink first.”
“Oh,” Jungwoo gestures at the two drinks on the table. “I already got yours.”
You place your things down across from him and take a careful sip of the drink. The taste is familiar and pleasant—your favorite. “This is my order?”
His lips twitch upwards. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I ordered it.”
“How did you know which one to get?”
“Most of our group project meetings have been here or at other cafes across campus.” Jungwoo types away on his computer without looking up, but the tips of his ears redden at the line of questioning. “You get the same thing every time regardless of the place.”
He’s right. You typically don’t deviate away from your usual order, unless there’s a promotion that really catches your eye.
“Why didn’t you order any for Mark or Jaehyun?” You ask. “Before you knew they weren’t coming.”
“I’ve never gotten coffee with them,” he shrugs. “I don’t know their orders.”
You think out loud. “Do I know yours?”
He lowers his drink out of sight so that you can’t peek. “I don’t know, do you?”
Even though you posed the question, the answer comes out of your mouth naturally. “Iced Americano?”
Jungwoo smiles and raises the dark drink from below the table up to his lips. “I would’ve left if you got that wrong. You would’ve been the only group member left.”
You roll your eyes and call his bluff. “Liar. You don’t have the resolve to do something like that.” You open your own laptop and start clicking through the course website. “I’m telling you, all of this is a sign that we spend too much time together.”
A brief pause. When you glance upwards from your work, Jungwoo’s lips are curled upwards in a slight pout.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he says.
“I don’t think there’s been a single semester that we haven’t been paired together in some form,” you point out.
“Yeah, but it’s not like we see each other that much outside of class stuff,” he mutters. “So I wouldn’t say it’s too much time.”
His words make you pause. Being in the same major and projects had ingrained Jungwoo’s presence in your classes as a constant, but it’s only now that you realize how intertwined Jungwoo is in your daily life. You don’t remember when you had unconsciously memorized his drink order—let alone when you’d picked up the ability to read him so well based on the smallest habits and expressions.
On that topic, from the way he pouts and slouches in his seat, he’s clearly upset with you. When you think about it, he has been sulking much more than usual.
Despite his childish and borderline annoying behavior, you find yourself resisting the urge to lean across the table and smooth out the crinkle between his brows. His transparency is almost cute.
You shake yourself from the sudden thought. It must be the lack of sleep—you only slept three hours last night while cramming for tomorrow’s exam. You can begrudgingly accept that Jungwoo is the closest thing you have to a class friend, but seeing him as cute is so startling that you push it to the back of your mind.
Willing yourself to focus, you’re able to easily redirect the conversation toward the group project. Jungwoo participates with ease, but he never quite loses the slight pout in his expression. He’s like a deflating balloon, losing energy as the time moves on.
When you’re satisfied with your progress, you shut your laptop closed and stretch your arms overhead. “Looks good for now.”
“Nice,” Jungwoo yawns and mirrors your stretching. “Any other plans for today?”
“Probably just gonna go home, nap, then study more for our statics test tomorrow.” You feel a slight pang of guilt at not offering to study together, so you add, “I think that’s the plan, anyway. It’s also my roommate’s birthday, so I’m not sure if she wants to celebrate today or tomorrow.”
“Sheesh, glad I’m not you. You’re packed.”
The feeling of guilt dissipates immediately. Your eye twitches. “Thanks. I am well aware.”
He shrugs. “You’re smart, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Uh, thanks?” Your heart jumps a little at the unexpected praise. Did he always compliment you this easily? It’s been a while since you’ve spent one-on-one time together outside of small partner work in class; you can’t remember what the dynamic is usually like with just the two of you.
If he senses your confusion, he doesn’t show it. “Don’t forget that we have that mini presentation Friday morning for Fluids. Should be easy, but I think we all still need to prep our slides.”
You wave him off as you’re both packing up your things. “Should be fine. Once I sit down and do it, I should be alright.”
Your chatter continues out of the coffee shop and towards the nearest bus stop. It’s a continuous train of thought between the two of you—upcoming events, complaining about professors, the whole works—and you’re still chatting until the campus bus passes on the opposite side of the street, signifying that it’ll make its final U-turn in a few minutes toward your stop.
You unzip your bag pocket to take out your transit card mid-vent. “That’s why I can’t stand working with Cathy on projects anymore. She’s so—wait, are you not getting on?”
Jungwoo looks amused. He reaches into his pocket and dangles his keys in front of you. “I drive myself now, remember?”
“What? You never told me that!” In previous years, you’d oftentimes run into him on the same bus line leaving campus. Depending on the timing of overlapped classes in your schedules, there were some semesters where the two of you would walk to the bus stop straight after class and sit together on the way home.
“I definitely did. Two weeks ago, when you were making googly eyes at Jaehyun–”
“I was not—wait,” you squint at him. “If you’re driving, why did you walk here with me?”
Jungwoo shrugs, sticking his hands back in his pockets. “It’s getting late.”
“So?” NCIT and its surrounding area was known as one of the safest college campuses.
“So, I didn’t want to make you walk and wait alone in the dark?”
“Very chivalrous,” you tease, “but not a very white knight thing for you to wait at the bus stop with me and then flex your new car without offering a ride.”
“And would you have let me give you a ride if I offered?”
“No.” You hated the feeling of being in debt to someone else’s good deeds.
“Right.” He rolls his eyes. “But yeah, I actually only walked you here just to brag about my car.”
“Obviously.”
The bus finally turns back around the corner, and there’s a sparkle in Jungwoo’s eyes that you don’t understand until a mischievous smirk spreads across his face.
“Well, for the record,” his voice lowers, “just text me if you need a lift. You can take a ride anytime.”
Your jaw drops, and you’re about to ask what the hell that means when you hear the bus doors open. The bus driver glares at the both of you.
“See ya!” Jungwoo’s voice is back to its chipper tone as you rush onto your bus.
You swipe through random apps on your phone in an attempt to look unaffected, but you still can’t resist peeking at Jungwoo’s waving figure until it disappears in the distance.
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
“He wants you so bad it’s embarrassing,” your roommate Lucy calls from the bathroom as she does her makeup.
“But I’ve never felt these…vibes from him before,” you frown from your place on the couch. You’ve put effort into tonight’s look, but Lucy always takes longer to get ready.
“Um, that’s wrong.” You can hear her eyes rolling from here. “I’ve been telling you that he’s been interested for years!”
“Okay, but your intuition sucks. You were wrong about that one barista, that guy from my writing class, Daniel–”
“I’m not immune to making mistakes, but you’d have to be blind to not see this one.”
“We’re not like that,” you insist as Lucy walks out into your shared living room.
“Yeah, yeah,” she rolls her eyes as she pours a round of four shots. “A socialable and cute guy in engineering gives you his undivided attention and bends to your every will? His one bad trait is that he's sometimes smarter than you? How horrible.”
You open your mouth to double down, unwilling to let the subject go, but the topic is cut short as there’s a knock at your door.
Lucy’s previous birthday celebrations had included tame activities such as group dinners or game nights. Drinking was never out of the question, exactly, but it was almost never the main focal point of the night. Lucy had decided to change course for this year, specifically requesting to go out to bars with her other close friends. You’d carpool with Marie and Jenny since they lived in the same apartment building, but the rest of the main group planned to meet up later.
“Is this your first time at college night?” Jenny asks with a smile during the Uber ride over.
“Unfortunately,” you grumble as Lucy whips around to glare at you. You’d successfully evaded attending college nights at your local bar—in general, you dislike running into people you know during nights out—and Lucy had taken it upon herself to weaponize her birthday as a way for you to break your soft boycott.
“You just hate drinking in public because you’re a drunk crier,” Lucy says with a smug smirk.
Jenny’s eyes widen. “You are?”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Marie echoes.
“I’m not!” You insist.
“You’ll be fine,” Lucy says over the music. “There’s nothing happening at the bar that could possibly be tear-inducing anyway.”
Walking into the bar, the atmosphere itself immediately reminds you of why you generally stopped going out in the first place. The speakers are blasting with loud, bass-boosted music, you can barely see anything in the darkness, and, even if you could see anything, there’s so many people that it’s nearly impossible to move around.
“First round?” You manage to hear Lucy’s voice to your right.
“You’re lucky I love you,” you sigh as she tugs you along towards the bar.
Before you know it, the birthday girl herself has convinced you to take drink after drink until your head feels light and warm. You’re giggling and dancing with your girls without any pretenses, and your carefreeness relaxes even more when groups start to trickle out of the building. You can’t remember the last time you’d gone out and not felt any rush of social or academic anxiety ambush you.
When someone’s put it through your head that jello shots are somehow the next move, it’s your turn to wait at the bar until you can catch the bartender’s attention.
“I can help who’s next.” A familiar voice asks from just outside your field of vision. “What can I get you?”
You turn your head to lock eyes with a face you haven’t seen since the first week of classes. “Jaehyun?”
Jaehyun looks equal parts shocked and guilty. To his credit, he recovers quickly with a smile. “Been a while. Are you out with friends?”
Emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system, you cross your arms over your chest. “Um, yeah, it’s been a while—since you stopped showing up to all in-class and out-of-class group meetups.”
“Right.” He swallows, his smile turning more sheepish.
“I thought you picked up shifts during class? Unless this bar is open in the morning, too?”
That seems to give him more confidence. “Would you believe me if I said this is my second job?”
“I’ll believe you a little more if you give me a round on the house as an apology.”
Four free jello shots later, you return to your group with a victorious spring in your step. You’re feeling considerably less on top of the world, however, when the jello shot sends you just over the side of being too drunk. Lucy and the rest of the group have been there, as they’re overall more lightweight than yourself, leaving you to remain reliable through your own haze.
You’re not doing a great job, as you lose the other two after the DJ plays Gasolina, which leaves you to manage an incredibly intoxicated Lucy.
“Let’s get you water, then I’m calling the Uber. With or without those two,” you command as you try to lead Lucy from a table and back toward the bar. It’s an empty threat to try and get her to behave–you’d never leave them out to dry like that–but it has the opposite effect.
“I don’t wanna,” she whines as she refuses to budge. “We all have to go together.”
You use all of your restraint to refrain from shaking her by her shoulders. “If I promise to find them, will you stay here without moving?”
She nods wordlessly.
You take off towards the bar while swearing under your breath. You take a quick look around for the other two to no avail.
Luckily, Jaehyun’s the next available bartender again. You show a group picture to him on your phone. “Have you seen either of these girls?”
He squints at the screen. “They were here maybe a few minutes ago? Went back that way?” He points from the direction you came.
You groan. Of course you barely missed them. “Two waters, please.”
“Coming up,” he laughs. Jaehyun slides the two cups across the counter, but not before his eyes flicker to something over your shoulder. He grins. “Here to close out your tab?”
A voice sounds right near your ear. “Very funny, Jaehyun.”
Your neck snaps around so fast you think you may have given yourself whiplash. Sure enough, Jungwoo stands right behind you, his shocked expression mirroring your own.
“Hey?” He blinks, and his brown eyes roam over your face as if you’re an illusion that could disappear at any moment. He’s wearing jeans paired with a simple t-shirt and black jacket over the top. His hair is slicked back in a hairstyle that you’ve never seen on him before. In fact, under the dim bar lighting, Jungwoo looks like a completely different person.
It’s so different that your mind blanks, and out comes the first thing that your drunk brain thinks of.
“Are you stalking me?!”
He freezes, and you realize that, for once, you’ve rendered Kim Jungwoo speechless.
“That—that was supposed to be a joke. I meant,” you try to recover, “that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. It’s as if you were stalking me.”
Jaehyun doubles over with a deep roar of laughter, which makes your face heat in embarrassment.
Jungwoo clears his throat. “Jaehyun’s car is in the shop, so I’m picking him up from work. We live together. I know you said you might go out for your friend’s birthday on Thursday, but I didn’t realize it would be here. So no, I’m not stalking you.” Even in the low lights, a dusting of red is visible on his cheeks. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” you snap. You remember the two water cups on the bar and try to snatch at them, but you almost knock them both over in the process.
Jungwoo reaches over your arms and plucks up the cups before you can try again. “Where’s your group?”
“Over there,” you say with a small jerk of your head, “but I’m fine. I’m the most sober one, actually.”
That draws a laugh out of him. “I’m sure you are,” his smile warms your entire body. He nods to Jaehyun, who you’ve completely forgotten is behind the counter. “Does she have an open tab?”
“No. She blackmailed me for free drinks.”
“Free jello shots,” you can’t help but correct.
“She blackmailed me for free jello shots,” Jaehyun echoes with a pointed look at Jungwoo. The two seem to be having a silent conversation that you’re not privy to, which makes you all the more impatient.
You pry the water cups from Jungwoo’s hands while he’s distracted. “I can hold these, thanks.” Your drunk strength squeezes too much force on the right cup, causing some of the liquid to dribble over the edge.
“Good lord,” Jungwoo mutters. His hand moves to steady your elbows to support the drinks in your hands as he gently guides you back to your table. “Are you sure you don’t want to drink one for yourself? I think you should.”
“Nuh uh,” you say as you power through the crowd. “Not drunk.”
Miraculously, Lucy is sitting down obediently at the same place you’d left her, and the twins have magically popped up next to her. Lucy’s posture straightens immediately when she sees the two of you.
“Jungwoo’s here!” She points at him while shouting.
You nod, but the expression you shoot her screams For the love of god, please shut up.
Jungwoo pauses. “Have we met?”
Just through word of mouth. And your public instagram page, you think.
“Jungwoo, this is my roommate, Lucy.” You shove one cup of water into her hands and slide the other to be split by the twins. “Please drink these.”
Thankfully, she does as she’s told. It’s all going smoothly, and you’re one confirmation of payment away from calling the Uber when a waitress comes around with four shots on a tray.
“Happy birthday!” She sings with a dazzling smile.
You accept the drinks graciously to her face, only to whip around and unleash your fury on the group. “Who the hell ordered these?”
They all look away.
The beginnings of a headache thump behind your eyes. Despite the heat pooling in your cheeks and the slight dizziness buzzing around your head, you know what has to be done.
“Happy birthday,” you glare at Lucy as you place one shot in front of her.
Considering that you suspect at least one if not both twins just threw up in the bathroom, you don’t even consider giving either a shot. You are not willing to risk an Uber disaster tonight. Instead, you turn to Jungwoo with a stone cold expression.
“I need a favor.”
As if reading your mind, Jungwoo nods and slides a shot in front of himself. “I got you.”
That leaves the third. You want to take the last one—if anything, just to be courteous to Jungwoo, since he’s helping you out anyway—but your stomach lurches when you catch another whiff of alcohol. In the end, you and Jungwoo opt to split the last one in half. The first shot goes down smooth enough—or you’re so out of it that your sense of taste has completely checked out.
“Cheers,” you grimace as you pinch your nose and take half of the remaining shot. When you reach out to directly hand the shot glass over, Jungwoo pauses, his eyes darting between your lips and the rim of the glass.
“What is it?” You shout over the music, but your voice is too loud even to your own ears. “Take it!”
A faint pink flushes into his cheeks, but he does as you say. His nose wrinkles as he tilts his head back and drinks the remaining liquor. “It’ll be fun to feel the consequences of this during our presentation.”
“I doubt a shot and a half will affect you at all—” you cut yourself off as you process what he said.
Our presentation. Meaning, tomorrow morning's presentation. The same Friday presentation, you’re realizing, that you’ve completely forgotten to finish your designated slide for. Your heart drops to your ass.
It’s stupid. Logically, you know that one short presentation won’t tank your grade. However, coupled with your less than optimal first quiz score, it does make you feel like shit. You feel so terrible for leaving your group out to dry—what if they needed a good score to keep them from dropping down a grade?
“Don’t hate me,” you say sullenly, tears pricking at your eyes.
Jungwoo’s brow furrows. “Huh?”
You know you’re too drunk right now and you should think twice before airing out your insecurities, especially when you’d be airing them out to the classmate that consistently outperforms you. Even so, you can’t stop the single tear that betrays you by slipping down your face.
“Shit,” Jungwoo scrambles for a napkin, but your tears are too fast. He shifts to performing immediate damage control by wiping away at the tears with the pads of his thumbs instead. “Shh, no, everything’s okay. I could never hate you. Why are you crying?”
“I forgot to do my presentation slide for fluids,” you sob. “I totally forgot and now I’m gonna be too drunk to do it when I get home. I might still be drunk by the time I need to leave for class.”
A pause.
“Pfft.” He turns his head away and tries to cover his mouth so you can’t see him shaking with laughter. “Nerd.”
You shove at his arm. “Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m not,” he deadpans, even as the lines of his face look considerably more relaxed. He dabs at your drying tears with his sleeve. “It’s almost three in the morning anyway, so it would’ve been pretty ambitious for you to try and sober up in time to actually complete it.”
That makes the tears come back in full force. “I’m sorry that I’m a bad group member!” Without thinking, you bury your face into Jungwoo’s shoulder as you cry.
You feel the muscles on his shoulder stiffen before they relax. One hand comes out to stroke the back of your head, while the other rubs small circles on your back.
“You’re not. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”
“You already said that the other day,” you hiccup.
You feel his chest rise and fall with a huff of laughter. “I wouldn’t just say that if I didn’t mean it, dummy. This presentation isn’t even a big deal. Your part is like two slides. You’re smart and a hard worker, so stop calling yourself a bad group member. I wouldn’t like…working with you so much otherwise.”
That’s enough to make your crying subside. When you finally pull away, he wipes again at the smeared makeup on your face.
“Don’t worry about your section of the presentation tomorrow. I’ll do it. Just stay home and I’ll tell our professor that you’re sick–which I have a feeling it won’t be a lie, so don’t argue with me right now. Does all of that sound okay?”
You nod with a sniffle. “Thank you. Really.”
The corners of his eyes soften. He reaches his hand to smooth out a rogue hair; this time, you catch his outstretched hand and lean your head into this open palm.
“Ah,” He turns his gaze away suddenly with a strangled cough. His face glows a bright red. “It looks like your friend’s Uber is here.”
Lucy stands at the bar entrance with a knowing smile on her face. The twins are sitting on the curb a few feet away outside of the bar, looking away. You hadn’t even noticed that the three had snuck out sometime during your conversation with Jungwoo.
Jungwoo still walks the short distance with you to meet her. Lucy holds back laughter as you both hover around the entryway.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say shyly.
“I better not—well, I mean that in the sense that you shouldn’t come to class in the morning.” His arm reaches to scratch the back of his head. “You know what I mean. Text me when you get home.”
“I will,” you laugh as Lucy tugs you away.
“I told you,” she brags with a smug grin plastered across her face. “You’re a drunk crier, and he’s down bad.”
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
When you wake up, the time on your alarm flashes back at you: 11:27am. Two and a half hours past your normal Friday morning class.
You squint and ignore the pounding in your head ignited by the light flooding from your phone’s display.
Your phone is flooded with message notifications, the oldest starting from Lucy at 2am last night and the most recent being seven messages from Jungwoo (intro to eng).
Heart racing, you click on Jungwoo’s chat first.
[8:15am]: morning :) hope you’re feeling ok
[8:16am]: in case you forgot, do NOT come to class today
[8:16am]: I already made ur slide
[8:16am]: so coming would just make it awkward for both of us
[9:15am]: presentation went well, I convinced prof to not require a makeup assignment for u
[9:25am]: lmk when you’re alive
[9:36am]: don’t forget to drink water :)
His messages draw a sleepy snort of laughter from you. He knew you so well — if you had the physical capability to wake up on time this morning, you probably would’ve tried to fill out your slide in a panic and charge over to lecture. Too bad you’d snoozed your alarm in your sleep. It was nice to know that he still had your back, even after drunk you had lowkey terrorized him.
I drank water when I got home, you text back, but someone should’ve told me to drink some at the bar.
The response is almost immediate. I did. You’re stubborn when you want to be.
You roll your eyes. And this is new?
Guess not. Are u planning on coming to materials lecture?
Your head pulses as you sit up in bed. For all intents and purposes, there’s no reason to push yourself to attend your Intro to Material Science lecture today. Jaehyun and Mark don’t show up anyway, and you know Jungwoo would cover you in case it was an issue.
Still, it’s the inexplicable giddiness in your chest that causes you to reply yep, see ya later.
A heart reaction appears over your message, leaving you humming as you tap on your chat with Lucy.
Immediately, your fingers freeze in place over the screen. Two images capture the latter half of last night. The first shows you walking toward the table with water cups in hand, Jungwoo spotting your back. All of that feels familiar; what does not is Jungwoo’s hands guiding you along, one hand on your right elbow and the other hovering close to your waist.
You’re sure that he didn’t touch your waist at all, but the angle of the camera misleads your eyes and makes your skin prickle as if he did. It sure looks like it.
The next picture captures your crying session at the tail end of the night. Jungwoo’s hands cradle your face to wipe away your tears. What you hadn’t been able to see through your waterworks, however, was his face as he looked at you. Startlingly, it’s an expression that you recognize on him — mouth curved upwards, eyes warm, and attention rapt on you. Even so, the softness lining his features triggers your heart to leap. If you were an outsider looking in, you’d describe it as tender.
Down bad, Lucy’s text says below the text.
You’re so shocked that you forget to dislike her message. You text back: what the fuck?
I’m talking about both of you btw, she replies, and you’re about to press her further when her last picture pops into the chat.
It’s still your crying session, mere moments after the first picture, but one glaring thing is different. Not only is Jungwoo’s back to the camera, but you’re the focal point of the lens. Your head leans into Jungwoo’s open palm, and you gaze up at him through thick lashes that look almost siren-like.
You nearly launch your phone across the room. You immediately exit out of the messages.
You refuse to allow yourself to dwell or over analyze it. You go through the motions of getting ready as usual and dart out of the apartment before Lucy can goad you further.
At materials lecture, Jungwoo keeps the seat next to him open for you, as always.
“Hey,” you say as you slide into the seat.
“Ah, hey,” Jungwoo ruffles through his bag and holds out a water bottle. “Need it?”
“Oh–I have one. Thanks, though.”
He slides it over anyway. “Eh, take it for later.”
“Are you sure?”
His eyes crinkle at the edges, and there’s a warmth in his eyes as he grins mischievously. “I think the odds of you needing it over me are higher.”
“Whatever.” Your voice sounds cool enough, but your heart betrays you by thundering away in your chest. The look in his eyes exactly mirrors his expression from Lucy’s photo last night.
He doesn’t pick up on your stiffness, instead leaning back in his chair and tapping the edge of his pen against his desk. “Professor Jang is pretty late today, no?”
As if on cue, other students collectively groan and start muttering amongst themselves. A few people get up first before the rest of the class begins to follow.
Jungwoo straightens in his seat. “Whoa, what’s happening?”
On intuition, you check your email. Sure enough, there’s a recent message from Professor Jang:
Hi MAT101,
Class will be cancelled today, as my kid is throwing up everywhere.
Thanks,
Jang
Sent From My iPhone.
“Ugh, we were all already here,” you groan, flashing the message over to Jungwoo. “And we have our next class after this.”
He nods and puts his things in his bag. “Want to check out some of the pop-ups around campus while we wait?”
“Sure,” you shrug. “There’s an event today?”
“Seemed like it, but no idea what it’s for,” he shrugs back. “Should be chill enough, I think.”
When the two of you stroll outside and turn towards the rows of booths, it immediately becomes apparent that things are not chill. The booths are covered with colors of pink, red, and white. Heart and cupid designs sprinkle the front of at least half.
“Uh, Jungwoo? What day is it?”
He taps his phone to turn on the display, and the resulting date confirms your suspicions: February 14th.
“How did I not even realize it’s Valentine’s day?” You ask yourself, massaging your temples.
“Well, you were in a pretty rough state last night,” Jungwoo offers.
You glare at him. “Gee, thanks.”
He nudges your shoulder. “Come on, let’s check it out anyway. It’s just a theme.”
He strolls towards each booth without a care in the world. You trail behind him, incredibly self-conscious. You wonder if, to the average passerby, the two of you look just like any other browsing couple.
And would you hate that?
You can’t think further into it, as Jungwoo calls out your name from the other end of a vendor tent. “Come look at these candles.”
The candles all look the same physically: pink wax within a heart shaped ceramic. It’s cute enough to pique your interest, and you hold one titled Slow Burn.
“Whoa,” you sniff again. The main scent is a light citrus, with other fruity notes that you can’t quite discern.
You hold the candle up to Jungwoo. “I’m smelling citrus and…mango?”
He leans in. “Definitely mango? Potentially passionfruit?”
You’re sold. You wait in the line, ready to purchase your candle, until you rustle through your bag and realize that you’ve forgotten your wallet at home.
“Ah shit,” you mutter. “I have to put this back.”
Jungwoo cocks his head. “Why? I thought you liked it.”
“I forgot my wallet,” you sigh. You’re one step out of the line when Jungwoo tugs at your arm.
“I’ll spot you,” he says while prying the item out of your hands.
You shake your head. “Please don’t, you’ve been too nice to me lately. I’m already too far deep in debt with all the favors you’ve done for me.”
“Well…” He ignores you, handing the candle back to the cashier. It ends up wrapped in a dainty white bag, which he holds out to you. “What’s another one?”
The cashier smiles at you both. “Please also feel free to take advantage of our photobooth over there. It’s free with the purchase.”
It’s one of those electronic photobooth cameras that sends the image to you directly; currently, there’s no takers, and all of the nearby props are still neatly organized on the display. Clearly, no one’s used it.
“Let’s go,” you whisper, but Jungwoo’s already at the display table rifling through the accessories.
He settles on a puppy ear headband before glancing over at where you’re standing with your mouth wide open. “Pick a prop!”
After overcoming your initial reluctance, you settle for a headband with hearts on it as well as a classic candy heart cutout that says Be Mine.
He’s already setting up the photobooth to send a copy to each of your emails. You fidget in the frame, trying not to look as awkward as you feel.
“Alright, let me start it…oh wait,” he leans back to the table to also grab a candy heart cutout. “Okay, now.”
Thankfully, it’s only set up for one picture; the camera flashes and you immediately receive an email notification: Access your Cupid Candle Photos Here.
You click the link as you both make your way to the main walkway. As expected, you’re both smiling at the camera with your headbands on.
What you don’t anticipate is that, next to your Be Mine cutout, Jungwoo’s reads I’m Yours.
Your feet ground in place.
You’re not an idiot completely unaware of your own feelings – you’re simply just good at ignoring and pushing them away for later – but no amount of compartmentalization can obscure the truth from these images literally staring you in the face and the butterflies frenzying within your stomach.
You have feelings for Kim Jungwoo.
In truth, you can’t even pinpoint exactly when they started. You know him so well that it doesn’t feel like a sudden fall head-over-heels. Like him, it’s steady and supported by a deep sense of respect and fondness.
That doesn’t make admitting it to yourself any easier. You’d fallen for him now, of all times, years later?
“Hey,” you feel a tug on your arm. Jungwoo’s eyes scan you with concern. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you lie. “Just felt a little dizzy.”
He frowns. “Give me your bag.”
He takes it before you can reply and doesn’t stop there. He pulls your arm so it loops into his, and the two of you continue towards your next lecture linked.
The close proximity does make you dizzy, and you cling to his arm in earnest.
You may not be able to say when you fell for him, but god are you in deep.
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
Something shifts. Your next few days are all filled with Jungwoo–walking to class together, grabbing meals, and texting during the times you’re not together. It almost alarms you to realize how easy it is with him.
You’re separated for what feels like the first time in days during one of your classes, where you’re randomly paired up with your classmate, Mina, to work together on an in-class problem. It goes by easily enough, although you can see Jungwoo sneaking peeks at you mid-assignment. He really has nothing to worry about, as both of you have been paired with smart people.
You and Mina end up being one of the first pairs to finish, turning in your papers and waiting at your desk for others to finish. You spin a pen around in your hand in boredom.
“Waiting for Jungwoo?” She asks.
You nod. “He’ll probably throw a fit if I leave before he’s done.”
“I meant to ask,” Mina whispers as if sharing a secret. “Are you and Jungwoo dating?”
“What?” Your pen spins out of your hand and over your shoulder. “No, we’re not dating!”
She raises an eyebrow. “Talking, then?”
Your mind races. Sure, in the literal sense, you see him during and after nearly every class, study together on the weekends, call him when you struggle with problem sets, and text him random things in the interim. But all that isn’t talking talking—right? Something definitely has felt different this week, but your newfound awareness of your own feelings muddle any objective clarity you had before.
“No,” you manage to rasp out. “We’re not.”
“Ah, damn.” Mina rests her head in her hands. “Some of us have been waiting for you guys to get together since first year.”
“Really?” Your voice comes out shrill.
“Yeah, you guys just seem to really get along and work together the best. Natural chemistry and all that.”
You laugh. “Oh, that’s interesting.”
“Would you, though?”
“Would I what?”
“Be interested in him at all,” she clarifies, leaning in.
You should laugh it off, lie, and leave it at that. You definitely don’t owe any of your classmates any information about your love life, but your nerves make you start blabbering whatever comes to mind.
“Yeah, that’s funny you say that, I really couldn’t stand Jungwoo for a while. In fact, he was picking on me so much that I was basically cursing his name every class because we always get matched to work together.”
“Uh…” Mina’s eyes widen.
“It probably seems like chemistry since I’m used to him being a weirdo around me all the time. So no, we’re not dating, and good luck to his future girlfriend, I guess—ow!” You cry as Mina kicks your shin.
“Shh,” she hisses.
You hear a cough behind you.
“You dropped your pen,” Jungwoo says with absolutely no trace of emotion on his face. He drops the pen onto the desk in front of you and turns to leave.
You’re out of your seat and running after him in a split second. When you catch up to him, you grab at his sweatshirt sleeve. “Jungwoo—!”
“Don’t,” he says as he tugs his sleeve out of your hands. “It’s fine. Really.”
“No, really–”
“Leave me alone, okay? Maybe I don’t want you around me all the time either, if we’re stuck together so much.”
You let him go. Later, you try to text and call him, but all of your messages bounce back. He’s absent from all of your shared classes despite the fact that he’s barely missed a single class within the entire time that you know him.
When you show up to your materials class the following Monday, Jaehyun and Mark are sitting in your usual spot. Jungwoo is nowhere to be found.
“Wow, look at who finally showed up in person. Welcome back,” you say flatly.
The two exchange a look that you don’t even care to interpret. You plop your bag on the ground next to Mark’s seat and start taking notes without another word.
When Professor Jang reaches the end of his powerpoint early and announces time for group work, you’re already packing your things up. There was no reason for you to be there; your project presentation was almost completely done, and Jungwoo was definitely ignoring you. You’d lost access to the shared docs last night anyway, so you can’t work on anything even if you tried. You don’t even know why the other two had finally bothered to show up.
“Wait,” Jaehyun says.
You turn to him in surprise – more for the fact that this is one of the few times you’ve heard him initiate, well, anything. “Yes?”
Jaehyun thinks for a moment before answering slowly. “Just give Jungwoo time. He just needs to sulk about it.”
That comment does little more than stoke the flames of your building irritation. He’d been talking to his friends about you?
“Well maybe I don’t want to talk to him either,” you spit out without caring about how childish you sound. “It’s fine, since we’re both sick of being paired together time after time.”
Jaehyun exhales in what you think is a laugh. “I don’t know what he said to you, but he definitely isn’t sick of that.”
Mark elbows Jaehyun in the ribs. “Dude!”
“Um.” Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“He’s just saying random stuff,” Mark babbles, but Jaehyun’s already talking over him.
“Do you know the odds of being randomly paired with the same person over and over again?”
“Uh, low?”
“For this class alone, you had a 3/199 chance, which would be around 1.5 percent likelihood. To calculate the probability of a second project in a similarly sized class and project group you would multiply 3/199 by 3/199, which would give you…” He types the numbers into a calculator. “...a 0.023 percent chance of being paired together in 2 independent projects.”
“...And?” You aren’t sure why Jaehyun is flexing his statistics skills right in front of you. Respectfully, you didn’t know he could do math like that.
“If the likelihood of being paired together in only one class is 1.5 percent, and the probability of being paired together in project after project only lowers each time…” He stares at you. “Do you really think that’s completely random?”
In the midst of his awkward delivery, that’s when you finally get it. There’s a flutter of hope in your chest that makes your heart race.
“How were groups chosen for this class?” You ask while barely containing your smile.
“Choose your own groups,” Jaehyun grins. “There was an uneven number since you were gone, so Professor Jang said there would need to be one group of three to take the missing person–”
“–and Jungwoo fought off anyone else trying to join our group!” Mark finally bursts in, unable to keep himself out of the conversation. “He told everyone else that your spot was already reserved.”
The verbal confirmation sends a wave of heat climbing up your neck. You clear your throat. “And how long am I supposed to wait for him to stop sulking?”
There’s a long pause as Jaehyun thinks. “Probably a week.” A mischievous grin spreads across his face. “But I have a way for you to speak with him sooner.”
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
Sooner turns out to be the following Wednesday. You pause in front of the door of the address Jaehyun sent you. Your hand shakes as you knock three times in succession.
The music inside goes silent, and there’s some shuffling on the other side for a few minutes before Mark pokes his head out of the doorway. His face relaxes when he sees you.
“Hey!” He swings the door open for you. “Sorry for the sudden silence. We thought you were Jungwoo at first.”
“All good,” you fake a smile and hope it’s convincing. “How have you been?”
You don’t really listen as Mark leads you through the house, and you fail to retain any names when he introduces you to new people here and there. You could figure it out later when you’re much less nervous.
Jaehyun turned out to be more conniving than you expected—he’d concocted this plan in lecture with you, detail-by-detail, although you were starting to get the sneaking suspicion that he had this in mind all along.
The main setting central to his plan: the surprise party. As his housemate, Jaehyun had already planned a surprise birthday party for Jungwoo with the rest of their friend group. What he hadn’t prefaced in advance was how overly male their friend group was, and you stick out like a sore thumb.
“He’s turning into the neighborhood,” a voice announces from the other side of the house.
”He’s gonna know immediately,” you hiss to Jaehyun as people start finding their hiding spots.
He gestures to the back of the room with a nod of his head. ”Follow me.”
There’s a couch toward the back of the room that faces away from the entrance. You plop down on the cushions. “I fail to see how this helps.”
“I’ll hide next to you, pop out, then leave. You’ll stay.”
”Okay?”
”I’m willing to bet that he won’t even think to walk over here,” Jaehyun explains, ever patient. “Let alone look at who’s sitting on the couch.”
It seems utterly ridiculous, but you’re not in a position to be arguing. This is his house and his plan, after all, and you didn’t have any other bright ideas of your own to begin with. Jungwoo’s made himself impossible to reach, and you’re desperate.
You hug your knees into your chest and press your back into the cushion. Jaehyun settles next to you facing the opposite direction.
The house is completely still as the lock jiggles and the door swings open. Everyone keeps their cool until you hear Jungwoo switch on the lights to the kitchen. Click.
“Surprise!” Everyone except you jumps up from their respective hiding places. You stay in place from your seat on the couch as Jaehyun floats back toward the front of the room.
Some of the other partygoers drift over to your side of the room and startle, shooting the occasional confused glance in your direction, but you don’t care. The ultimate goal is to catch him off guard after his inhibitions have been lowered.
The first step of Jaehyun’s plan unfolds: you hear someone yell “Shot!” accompanied by the mass pouring of cups followed by a group of cheers. The lights turn back off after the group shot, which makes it difficult to discern what happens next without potentially breaking your cover. You’re hiding out on the couch for at least twenty more minutes until you feel a tap on your shoulder.
“It’s been done,” Jaehyun plops down on the cushions next to you. “I think someone else might have roped him into a third and potentially fourth shot, though.”
Your head tilts. “He seems like he can hold his liquor decently enough, right?”
Jaehyun bursts out into a fit of deep laughter. “God, no. He was probably just trying to look cool in front of you. He ended up bugging me at the bar for at least an hour until he sobered up at the very end of my shift, and then I still ended up driving his car home–”
“Jaehyun!” You hear Jungwoo’s voice drawling over the crowd.
“Look, I should probably warn you…” Jaehyun ducks so that his head isn’t visible from behind the couch and lowers his tone so the music drowns out his words. “Jungwoo’s always funny, but when he drinks he gets a little–”
“Jaeeeehyuun!” A pair of arms fling from behind the couch to engulf Jaehyun into a loose hug. Jungwoo’s forehead buries into Jaehyun’s left shoulder. “Why are you hiding from me? Who are you talking to?”
Jungwoo’s head spins around to peek at you, his position on Jaehyun’s shoulder so close to you that your noses nearly brush each other. At point blank eye contact, you witness his brown eyes widen with recognition.
“Oh,” you whisper, afraid to break the tension. “Surprise?”
He jerks away, head bobbing between the two of you on the couch. “You brought her?”
Too late, you and Jaehyun both realize the assumption firing through his brain.
“Wait–” you start.
“Woos–” Jaehyun sighs as he stands up, but Jungwoo has already fled somewhere deep into the house.
The two of you shake your head at each other and move in unison without exchanging a single word. Jaehyun leads the way, knocking and peeking into rooms for signs of Jungwoo. The other attendees in the main room are relatively useless in the search, as they’re currently engaged in some sort of drinking game.
When you finally open the final bedroom door, Jungwoo looks up from the edge of the bed with a wide, shocked expression.
“Found you,” you joke softly as you let yourself inside.
You look at Jaehyun with raised eyebrows. You’ll take his word for whatever he says, at this point–after all, he seems much more familiar with the mannerisms of drunk Jungwoo when compared to you, but he simply shrugs and flashes a thumbs up at you.
“You got this,” he says before slipping out of the room.
Thanks a lot, Jaehyun, you think.
“Hey,” you say as you step forward. It’s ridiculous, the way you approach carefully like he’s a feral dog that might run away at any moment. Regardless, you’re able to slink up and settle next to him on the edge of the bed. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” He avoids eye contact. “Why are you here?”
You know that he’s been openly avoiding you, but the blunt question stings you nonetheless. “I was invited to your surprise party.”
“Jaehyun brought you as his date for my surprise birthday party,” he grumbles.
You shake your head. “Jaehyun invited me because you won’t show up to class, text me back, or answer my calls.”
Brief silence. “I’ve been busy.”
“Jungwoo, you blocked me on gmail. I can’t even access or edit our group presentation because you’re the owner.”
“I didn’t want you to see my cursor active on the shared doc,” he mutters.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course you’d end up falling for a guy who could match your pettiness up to a T. With him, the best approach is to be as direct as possible.
“Jungwoo, please let me apologize.” You struggle to squeeze the words out. “I know why you’re ignoring me, and I definitely deserve it, but I miss you.”
That seems to catch him off guard enough that he forgets to evade eye contact. His gaze squints at you in open caution, but a glint of curiosity lies behind it. “…I’m not going to run away or anything.”
Doubtful, but you resist the urge to comment.
“I shouldn’t have said all of that to Mina,” you start, “and I didn’t really mean it in the first place.”
“...That’s kind of hard to believe, when you were willing to say all that to someone you don’t know as well,” he responds. The discomfort in his face makes your chest squeeze. You’re really feeling the worst, to be the one making him so obviously uneasy.
“I know, and I’m really sorry.” You fidget uncomfortably with the fabric of your clothes. “Look, in the past–I thought you were messing with me, like, all of the time. I was having a really hard time making friends, so I just redirected my frustration at you.”
He frowns. “I always considered you my friend.”
“I know.”
“I always tried to include you in conversations because I could tell you get nervous meeting new people.”
“God, I–yes, I realize that now,” you groan. “I didn’t even believe it anymore when I said that to her.”
“If you didn’t feel that way anymore, then why did you still say it?”
It’s a more than valid question, but he doesn’t realize the slippery slope it’s leading you down. “Well…she was asking a lot of nosy questions?”
His brows furrow. “About what? Our friendship?”
“About…” It’s so difficult to say what you want to–it’s like the words are caught in your chest, suspended in place. However, he deserves honesty from you, after everything you’ve said. “...whether or not we’re dating?”
“Oh,” his voice flattens. “And the idea is so ridiculous that you had to reassure her that you’d never date such an annoying guy?”
“No!”
“Then what?”
“God – can you let me speak for two sentences without interrupting?”
“I’m not interrupting! Just tell me what she said!”
“You just interrupted me again!” You shriek. “She asked me if I was interested in you, and I didn’t want Mina from ENG 150 to be the first one to find out I was!”
Jungwoo’s about to interrupt with another comeback when he finally processes your words. He freezes in place, eyes wide, and the tips of his ears turn a bright shade of red. “You’re what?”
“Interested in you,” you say unflinchingly, even though you can feel the heat rising to your own face. “I like you, Jungwoo. A lot.”
His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “Oh.”
You take the opportunity to scoot closer to him. Your hand grabs his. “I’m sorry that I said all of that to Mina. I didn’t mean it. I’ve only just been figuring out my feelings, and I didn’t know what to do with them. I totally freaked out.”
You’re patient as you let him sit through his thoughts. The expression on his face stays in shock, relaxes into slight confusion, and then eventually, to your surprise, twists into a smile.
“You like me,” he grins.
Your face burns. “I do.”
His smile widens. “Enough to crash my birthday party.”
“Ugh–yes.” You hide your face in your hands. “Telling you this today wasn’t in the plan, by the way.”
“Liking me was just that irresistible?”
You scoff. “Well, at least I wasn’t the one rigging all of the group project assignments.”
He jumps to his feet. “I’m going to kill Jaehyun–”
“Hey,” you yank him back down on the floor next to you. “Can you at least say it back to me before you fight your best friend?”
He looks away, but his thumb rubs absentmindedly at the top of your hand. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“By the way you trapped me as your project partner for three years? Yes,” you smile, “but I still want to hear it from you.”
“I just wanted an excuse to be close to you,” he pouts. There’s a slight pause as his eyes connect with yours. “I’ve liked you since the day we met. I thought my feelings would go away since you weren’t interested, but they never did. If anything, they got stronger.”
His vulnerability makes the mood shift. There’s something about his parted lips and the flush across his face that kicks your soft affection into sudden desire. You swallow thickly as your eyes slide down the length of his neck and on the exposed collarbone peeking through his disheveled shirt.
He whispers your name, which sends another volt of electricity down your spine. “What’s wrong?”
It’s the small, lingering trace of alcohol on his breath that snaps you back to your senses. You feel like a complete and utter pervert; the possibly most lightweight person you’ve ever met was clearly in a vulnerable position, and all you could think about was kissing him?
“Let’s get you back in the main room for some water,” you say gently as you begin to rise from the end of the bed.
His arms envelop you, slamming you both down on the bed. “Don’t go,” he whines.
The force of his hug alone has you laying on your back with Jungwoo’s arms around your waist, effectively anchored in place with his head resting on your stomach. You press your hands to your face, which feels flaming hot to the touch.
Despite your racing heartbeat, you manage to laugh. “I thought you were the one avoiding me.”
“We both know it wasn’t going to last long,” he mumbles. His mouth lies mere inches away from your stomach, his hot breath warming your skin through the fabric of your shirt. It sends a wave of heat through your body. “I just thought you hated me. And maybe liked Jaehyun more than me.”
You laugh again, but your heart melts. It takes all of your willpower to not get lost in the atmosphere. You allow yourself to run your hand through his hair, which is just as soft as you thought it would be. “Jungwoo?”
“Mmm?” His eyes close at your touch.
“Get up.”
He’s confused but finally follows your directions to sit up. Long lashes blink up at you expectantly.
“I don’t hate you,” you say through a suppressed grin. “And I certainly don’t like Jaehyun more than you.”
He grabs your hand from its position in his hair, holding it over his heart. “Promise?”
“Promise.” Knowing there’s a chance his memory might be muddled tomorrow, you add, “I wouldn’t remember just anyone’s coffee order, you know.”
Jungwoo lifts your hand and presses a kiss to the back. Then, his eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly he’s leaning in closer and closer–
You turn your face at the last minute so that he kisses your cheek instead.
“Not now,” you say firmly as you finally rise to your feet. “I don’t want our first kiss to be like this.”
“I don’t mind,” he grumbles, but he pulls his hands back into his lap.
“Well, you’re drunk. Off of maybe three shots of soju, may I add?”
“It was four, but I see your point.”
You pause. His pouting face is so endearing that you can’t fully resist; you lean forward and cup under his chin with both hands, pressing one kiss to his right cheek, left cheek, and finally his forehead.
“Happy birthday, Jungwoo,” you whisper against his skin. “Now let’s go.”
You lead Jungwoo by the hand out of the bedroom and through the main area of the house until you spot Jaehyun; you launch your drunk crush into his arms on sight. “Please take him.”
Jaehyun raises his eyebrows. “Went well?”
“We’re perfectly fine. He’s just a clingy monster when drunk.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Hey,” Jungwoo murmurs from Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Don’t get too friendly with her.”
Your face warms.
“I won’t.” Jaehyun smirks. “But don’t worry, Woos. I’m sure you’ll be very happy tomorrow.”
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
You wake up the next morning to a single text: Good morning
You laugh to yourself and repeat the sentiment back.
I want to see you, Jungwoo texts. Wanna get coffee?
An hour later you’re walking towards one of your favorite cafes on campus. Your heart quickens when you see Jungwoo waiting for you at the entrance.
Before you can even think about what to say, he interrupts first while holding a drink out to you. “Your usual.”
You crack a smile. “What if I wanted something different today?”
”You don’t.”
“Yeah, I don’t.”
His shoulders relax. “Would you be okay with just walking around?”
You nod and follow his lead. The two of you stroll down one of the many walkways, the rest of campus serene and still.
You break the silence first. “Not too hungover?”
”Well,” he grimaces. “I’ve had better days, but it could be worse.”
”I’m surprised you’re doing okay in the brightness, then.”
“Well, like I said, I wanted to see you.”
The honesty causes your face to feel hot. “I see.”
There’s another stretch of quiet. The two of you are in the engineering area of campus now, and you see a familiar building on your right.
“That’s where we had Intro to Engineering, right?” You ask.
He nods. “Sure is.”
You can’t bear beating around the bush anymore. “You actually liked me from the first day? This class?”
“This class.”
“You’re kidding.” You stiffen despite yourself. It feels like an entirely new thing to hear it again from sober Jungwoo’s mouth.
“Not kidding. I remember thinking you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground as he kicks a pebble down the trail. “I couldn’t believe my luck that we got paired together. Then I found out you were beautiful, smart, and funny.”
You find your gaze drawn to the ground now too. “It’s just a little hard to believe.”
From that first day of college, you’d never been the most secure in your identity, whether it be your looks, personality, or abilities. It always seemed like there was another student with better grades or better internships. Even three years later, you’ve never been able to fully shake off the desire to prove yourself. It’s almost too much to know that, this whole time, there had been someone seeing you and believing in your best potential.
You swallow thickly. How were you supposed to explain that, while he’d been seeing the best in you, you had returned the favor with a one sided grudge. “Jungwoo, I—“
“Don’t apologize.” His head raises sharply. “I know you thought I was annoying.”
“…a bit. And overachieving.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “‘A bit’ doesn’t seem like it would cover cursing my name every class.”
Hot shame flushes to your face. “I thought I believed that for a long time, but I was just jealous. Everything just came so easily to you—grades, friends, even our professors always liked you instantly. I felt like I worked my ass off just to barely have the grades to show for this entire program.” You take a deep breath. “So seeing you all the time just rubbed it in my face.”
“And I’m sure it helped to have me request you for almost every project?”
Your throat dries. “So you did do that.”
He shoots you a pointed look. “You said Jaehyun already told you.”
“Well, he alluded to it, but he wasn’t that specific. He kinda just guided me to put two and two together.” You don’t mention Mark exposing him for this semester’s class. You’re sure that the kid deals with enough from that friend group.
“I did.” The tips of his ears turn bright red, but he pushes through his embarrassment. “At first it was to catch your attention. When I realized you weren’t interested, I kept doing it because of your work ethic.”
That leaves you nearly speechless. “What?”
“Well,” he sniffs, “unlike some people here, I thought we were friends.”
“My work ethic,” you echo. “No other reason?”
He rubs the back of his head. “I guess I always told myself that I would go for it if you ever seemed interested, but that was it. I didn’t think you’d actually look at me like that, but–” he stops abruptly.
“...but?” You prompt him.
“And then you looked so starry eyed with Jaehyun that it pissed me off enough to start aggressively flirting with you.”
“I wasn’t—ugh, whatever. You won’t believe me.”
”I won’t.” He smiles, but it’s genuine.
“I’m glad you did, though,” you admit, “or else I probably never would’ve gotten my head out of my ass.”
”When did you realize that you liked me?”
”I honestly don’t know,” you admit. “You crept up on me.”
He hums, but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.
You turn back around suddenly, walking down the path until you’re in front of the building of your first ever class. The same lecture hall that you met in.
This will look so stupid if the door isn’t unlocked, you think, but the door slides open without resistance.
The lights turn on from your movement. Jungwoo slips in behind you. “What are you doing?”
You spot your unassigned assigned seat, right on the end of one of the middle aisles. You climb up the steps until you reach it and seat yourself.
Jungwoo stares at you from the bottom of the steps before catching the hint and settling next to you. “Feeling nostalgic?”
“Yeah,” you say, resting your elbows on the surface. “It’s just crazy that the first day started everything with us.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
You hold his gaze and smile, leaning forward, but he stays fixed in place looking at you.
”Um,” you say finally. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
“Here?” Conflict crosses his face. “Isn’t it a little…”
“Sentimental?”
“Musty.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine, we don’t have to—"
You’re cut off as Jungwoo tilts your chin with this hand and leans forward to press his lips to yours. Your lips push and pull in slow, languid motions; even through his lips and hand cradling your face, he touches you with intention.
“I wanted to kiss you somewhere romantic,” he huffs when you pull away. “On a real date.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, pressing a peck to his cheek. “Next time.”
by chance | k.jw
kim jungwoo x reader | happy jungwoo day! 🐶💗
word count: 12.7k
genre: college!AU, fluff, frenemies to lovers, slight academic rivals to lovers, engineering student!Jungwoo & Reader, female identifying reader
warnings: swearing, drinking
playlist:
CRUSH (sunkis, ASTN, Bren Joy) | falling for a friend (grentperez) | honey (boy pablo) | feel the same (the millennial club) | glue song (beabadoobee)
summary:
After three years of being paired with Kim Jungwoo in almost every group project, you start to realize that your least favorite partner might not be so random—or so unbearable—after all.
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
If there’s anything you hated the most about college (aside from the ever surmounting tuition fees), it would be mandated group projects. It was a lose-lose situation; a group of strangers almost never divided the work fairly, and you’d found that even working with friends often strained the relationship until the dust settled. The most offensive group projects of them all, in your opinion, always included randomized group members that you’d be stuck with for the entire term.
So when you walk into the second session for your Intro to Material Science class and see group project spread across each week’s coursework plan, you feel like crying. Even worse, you see that group selection occurred during the last class period, which you missed due to a doctor’s appointment. At the time you’d thought that missing syllabus day wouldn’t hurt, but for once that had been the worst timing possible.
Professor Jang lectures for half of the class period before flipping to a slide that just reads Group Time!
“Now,” your professor says with a clap of his hands. “I am giving you the rare but useful opportunity to work on your group project in class with your groupmates. Remember—if you haven’t already exchanged contact information, please do so. While these groups will also be your small groups for in-class discussions and problems, I will probably not be giving you a lot of chances to work on your actual project during class.”
You slink up to your TA as the other students shuffle themselves into their groups.
“Hi,” you say with a nervous laugh. “I was gone last class, could I have some help finding my group?”
“Sure!” Your TA says with a smile. When you’ve given her your name, she scrolls through a list on her laptop. “So it says right here that your partners are Jeong Jaehyun, Lee Mark, and–”
You hear a familiar voice shout your name, and all the hairs on your neck stand on end. You turn around slowly, and sure enough—
It’s Jungwoo waving you down to his table at the far corner of the room. His energy far exceeds the enthusiasm of the other two group members, who tap through their phones in bored scrolls.
You’d first encountered Kim Jungwoo on the very first day of college. You’d stumbled into your first Intro to Engineering class scared of your impending course load and nervous to meet new people. You’d claimed a safe enough seat—not too close to the front, but also not in the dead back—and been caught off guard when your seat partner immediately turned to introduce himself. At the time Jungwoo had been a welcome source of social relief, especially when you ended up being paired in a group project together in that same class.
It wasn’t that Jungwoo had a bad work ethic or couldn’t grasp the concerts. He was simply too smart and involved for his own good. Among a wave of socially awkward engineering students, he was quick to take charge and transform the atmosphere into something more comfortable. Guys loved him, and you could see girls developing crushes on him in real time.
While his charisma was something you’d usually appreciate in the midst of meeting random people, he always seemed to enjoy messing with you in particular. He looped you in as the butt of the joke constantly with the guys. When you had to split into pairs and girls would turn to him with a hopeful sheen in their eyes, you would see their hope transform into hatred when he would turn to trap you as his partner. In your small bubble that was desperate to make friends in your own major, Kim Jungwoo was the reason why the girls hated you and the guys couldn’t take you seriously. As if it wasn’t bad enough, he outperformed you on nearly every single quiz, homework assignment, and exam possible.
On top of it all, you’d been paired with him in at least one group project every term since that very first class together. In your third year, this most recent project would now tally into a grand total of nine projects together. Nine projects and zero new friends.
Jungwoo continues waving until you’ve reached the group’s spot. “I’m surprised you didn’t see me earlier. I was trying to wave you down before you walked up to the TA.”
You shrug. “I was too focused, I guess.”
The other two group mates at the table look up from their phones when they hear your voice.
“My name’s Mark,” the first guy says while extending his hand. He has a slight baby face that makes you pause.
“You’re a third year?” You ask, the shock protruding through your voice.
He slouches. “First year.”
“He already took all of the early math requirements before enrolling, so he’s taking all the classes with no prerequisites,” Jungwoo explains. Intro to Material Science was one of the few engineering classes with no prerequisites, but most people took it in their last two years since there weren’t many upper division classes that required it either.
“You must be smart, then,” you smile.
Mark mumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch.
You’re about to ask him to repeat when the second guy at the table extends his hand. “Jaehyun. In my last year.”
You gulp. Jaehyun is what you would typically describe as your type, down to his deep voice and strong features. You stammer through your name and year before opening your laptop in the desperate hope of concealing your brain short circuiting.
You feel Jungwoo’s stare as you stumble through your introduction. His eyes don’t leave your face, even as you’re pulling up the project description from the course website. When it starts to make it difficult for you to focus on what you’re reading at all, you whip your gaze over to meet his.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” You hiss at him as Mark and Jaehyun are engaged in some sort of conversation about music. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No.” His face is uncharacteristically blank.
“Then what?”
“Nothing,” he says, turning away.
It’s the most terse he’s ever been with you. Of all the times you’ve wished he would stop talking, of course he ignores you when you actually want him to speak on something.
For once, you’re the one taking hold of the conversation with your other two groupmates. You find out the three of them are actually old friends and that both Jaehyun and Mark are taking the class as part of a minor.
“Ah, I was wondering how I’d never met either of you before,” you say as you lean back in your chair. “Although, now that I think about it, I somehow haven’t met any of your friends outside of our engineering major—right, Jungwoo?”
“Yeah,” Jungwoo replies without glancing up. He’s typing on a slide titled Busy Dog Incorporated, which is supposedly the fake company name your group mates had settled on for the project. “Weird.”
Mark and Jaehyun exchange a look.
“He probably knows that we’d make him look bad in front of his engineering friends,” Jaehyun jokes.
You’re grateful to Jaehyun for saving you from a completely awkward atmosphere yet too intimidated to maintain eye contact with him. You look back down at your laptop with a nervous laugh. When you work up the courage to peek around at the group again, Jungwoo’s gaze is lasered back in on you.
His stare is so unexpectedly intense that it makes your heart jump in your chest. You’d always seen Jungwoo as a guy too chatty and goofy for his own good, but you’re taken aback by the seriousness in his eyes. Had you done something wrong?
You’re relieved when you hear the sound of zipping and shuffling as people start to leave, and you quickly follow suit. It’s only when you pack up your things that you realize your next class is specific to mechanical engineering students, which means you and Jungwoo will in fact be heading to the same destination.
Not wanting to be rude, you face Jaehyun and Mark. “It was nice meeting you both,” you say with a polite smile. “I’ll see you guys again next class?”
Jaehyun opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted as something hooks onto the top handle loop of your backpack. Your torso is lifted up and turned around in the complete opposite direction.
“Let’s go.” The tone in Jungwoo’s voice is back to normal in its casualness, but his grip on your bag is ironclad. “We’re gonna be late. See you guys!”
You barely have time to turn around with a final wave before Jungwoo marches you out of the lecture hall like a puppy being dragged by its scruff.
Outside of the room’s double doors, you tug yourself free. “Jeez, chill out. I can walk by myself, you know.”
“I was just making sure we left on time.” He shrugs. “You missed the first lecture for this class too, but he announced that we have a quiz for attendance at the beginning of class today.”
Your eye twitches in irritation. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
The two of you are sprinting across campus in the next instant.
He’s laughing and shouting absurdities into the wind, and you’re staring at him like he’s a crazed wild animal. Your mind struggles to compare his current hyperactiveness with the intensity from earlier. Did something happen? Why on earth was he being so weird today?
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
You look forward to your materials class with a cautious optimism about the possibility of developing new class friendships. Jaehyun had spoken to you easily, after all, and Mark seemed friendly enough. There was a lower chance of the conversation being swept away by Jungwoo’s charm, since they seemed to know each other well already.
When you scan the seats in the lecture hall and only find one empty seat next to Jungwoo himself, you feel your heart sink.
“Your friends couldn’t make it today?” You ask as casually as possible.
Jungwoo shrugs. “Mark had to study for another class, and Jaehyun had work.”
“He scheduled work during class?” Jaehyun seemed relatively laid back, but not that relaxed.
“This class is just for their minors, and attendance isn’t mandatory.” His eyes slide to yours. “Why? Did you need to talk to him?”
“I–no.” You trip on your own words. You were not about to admit that you had gotten excited about the mere prospect of class friends. “I was just curious.”
You figure their absences will vary like any other busy college student, but you’re proven wrong the next class when neither show face yet again. Or the next week.
It’s the strangest project dynamic yet. Sure, you hate randomly assigned group projects, but you also prefer that your groupmates show up. Both guys complete all their work on time and respond almost instantaneously in the group chat, which perplexes you even more. Since they were at your every beck and call virtually, they could very well just come to class.
You try to go around the attendance issue by using the group chat to schedule a casual project meetup outside of class. It’s giving them the benefit of the doubt, really. You’re outside the doors of the meeting place–your favorite cafe on campus–when your phone vibrates three times.
Jungwoo’s first. Just sat down :)
Mark’s message pops up next: Can’t make it today guys, I have to go back home this weekend :( Sorry about the last minute cancellation, lmk if I need to update anything on my side!
Jaehyun follows within the same minute: can’t make it either, had to pick up someone’s shift as a favor.
You throw the cafe door open and march inside. When Jungwoo waves from a table in the far corner, you change direction and stomp towards him.
“Did I do something to piss off your friends?”
“Uh, hi to you too—”
Your nostrils flare as you release your temper. “I’m being serious! Why are they being so flaky?”
“Hey, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He throws his hands up. “Are they not coming anymore?”
You flip your phone around to display the group chat, too impatient to wait for him to take out his own phone.
He reads the messages before sighing. “I promise I didn’t know.”
“You really promise?”
“I didn’t!”
You glare and scan him for any trace of dishonesty. Nearly three years of group work together had exposed you to most of Jungwoo’s mannerisms, down to the minute changes in his facial expressions and body language. In this case, his wide eyes and frozen shoulders speak for themselves—he genuinely had no idea that they would cancel.
“Fine,” you sigh. “We can still go over what we need to. Let me order my drink first.”
“Oh,” Jungwoo gestures at the two drinks on the table. “I already got yours.”
You place your things down across from him and take a careful sip of the drink. The taste is familiar and pleasant—your favorite. “This is my order?”
His lips twitch upwards. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I ordered it.”
“How did you know which one to get?”
“Most of our group project meetings have been here or at other cafes across campus.” Jungwoo types away on his computer without looking up, but the tips of his ears redden at the line of questioning. “You get the same thing every time regardless of the place.”
He’s right. You typically don’t deviate away from your usual order, unless there’s a promotion that really catches your eye.
“Why didn’t you order any for Mark or Jaehyun?” You ask. “Before you knew they weren’t coming.”
“I’ve never gotten coffee with them,” he shrugs. “I don’t know their orders.”
You think out loud. “Do I know yours?”
He lowers his drink out of sight so that you can’t peek. “I don’t know, do you?”
Even though you posed the question, the answer comes out of your mouth naturally. “Iced Americano?”
Jungwoo smiles and raises the dark drink from below the table up to his lips. “I would’ve left if you got that wrong. You would’ve been the only group member left.”
You roll your eyes and call his bluff. “Liar. You don’t have the resolve to do something like that.” You open your own laptop and start clicking through the course website. “I’m telling you, all of this is a sign that we spend too much time together.”
A brief pause. When you glance upwards from your work, Jungwoo’s lips are curled upwards in a slight pout.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he says.
“I don’t think there’s been a single semester that we haven’t been paired together in some form,” you point out.
“Yeah, but it’s not like we see each other that much outside of class stuff,” he mutters. “So I wouldn’t say it’s too much time.”
His words make you pause. Being in the same major and projects had ingrained Jungwoo’s presence in your classes as a constant, but it’s only now that you realize how intertwined Jungwoo is in your daily life. You don’t remember when you had unconsciously memorized his drink order—let alone when you’d picked up the ability to read him so well based on the smallest habits and expressions.
On that topic, from the way he pouts and slouches in his seat, he’s clearly upset with you. When you think about it, he has been sulking much more than usual.
Despite his childish and borderline annoying behavior, you find yourself resisting the urge to lean across the table and smooth out the crinkle between his brows. His transparency is almost cute.
You shake yourself from the sudden thought. It must be the lack of sleep—you only slept three hours last night while cramming for tomorrow’s exam. You can begrudgingly accept that Jungwoo is the closest thing you have to a class friend, but seeing him as cute is so startling that you push it to the back of your mind.
Willing yourself to focus, you’re able to easily redirect the conversation toward the group project. Jungwoo participates with ease, but he never quite loses the slight pout in his expression. He’s like a deflating balloon, losing energy as the time moves on.
When you’re satisfied with your progress, you shut your laptop closed and stretch your arms overhead. “Looks good for now.”
“Nice,” Jungwoo yawns and mirrors your stretching. “Any other plans for today?”
“Probably just gonna go home, nap, then study more for our statics test tomorrow.” You feel a slight pang of guilt at not offering to study together, so you add, “I think that’s the plan, anyway. It’s also my roommate’s birthday, so I’m not sure if she wants to celebrate today or tomorrow.”
“Sheesh, glad I’m not you. You’re packed.”
The feeling of guilt dissipates immediately. Your eye twitches. “Thanks. I am well aware.”
He shrugs. “You’re smart, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Uh, thanks?” Your heart jumps a little at the unexpected praise. Did he always compliment you this easily? It’s been a while since you’ve spent one-on-one time together outside of small partner work in class; you can’t remember what the dynamic is usually like with just the two of you.
If he senses your confusion, he doesn’t show it. “Don’t forget that we have that mini presentation Friday morning for Fluids. Should be easy, but I think we all still need to prep our slides.”
You wave him off as you’re both packing up your things. “Should be fine. Once I sit down and do it, I should be alright.”
Your chatter continues out of the coffee shop and towards the nearest bus stop. It’s a continuous train of thought between the two of you—upcoming events, complaining about professors, the whole works—and you’re still chatting until the campus bus passes on the opposite side of the street, signifying that it’ll make its final U-turn in a few minutes toward your stop.
You unzip your bag pocket to take out your transit card mid-vent. “That’s why I can’t stand working with Cathy on projects anymore. She’s so—wait, are you not getting on?”
Jungwoo looks amused. He reaches into his pocket and dangles his keys in front of you. “I drive myself now, remember?”
“What? You never told me that!” In previous years, you’d oftentimes run into him on the same bus line leaving campus. Depending on the timing of overlapped classes in your schedules, there were some semesters where the two of you would walk to the bus stop straight after class and sit together on the way home.
“I definitely did. Two weeks ago, when you were making googly eyes at Jaehyun–”
“I was not—wait,” you squint at him. “If you’re driving, why did you walk here with me?”
Jungwoo shrugs, sticking his hands back in his pockets. “It’s getting late.”
“So?” NCIT and its surrounding area was known as one of the safest college campuses.
“So, I didn’t want to make you walk and wait alone in the dark?”
“Very chivalrous,” you tease, “but not a very white knight thing for you to wait at the bus stop with me and then flex your new car without offering a ride.”
“And would you have let me give you a ride if I offered?”
“No.” You hated the feeling of being in debt to someone else’s good deeds.
“Right.” He rolls his eyes. “But yeah, I actually only walked you here just to brag about my car.”
“Obviously.”
The bus finally turns back around the corner, and there’s a sparkle in Jungwoo’s eyes that you don’t understand until a mischievous smirk spreads across his face.
“Well, for the record,” his voice lowers, “just text me if you need a lift. You can take a ride anytime.”
Your jaw drops, and you’re about to ask what the hell that means when you hear the bus doors open. The bus driver glares at the both of you.
“See ya!” Jungwoo’s voice is back to its chipper tone as you rush onto your bus.
You swipe through random apps on your phone in an attempt to look unaffected, but you still can’t resist peeking at Jungwoo’s waving figure until it disappears in the distance.
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
“He wants you so bad it’s embarrassing,” your roommate Lucy calls from the bathroom as she does her makeup.
“But I’ve never felt these…vibes from him before,” you frown from your place on the couch. You’ve put effort into tonight’s look, but Lucy always takes longer to get ready.
“Um, that’s wrong.” You can hear her eyes rolling from here. “I’ve been telling you that he’s been interested for years!”
“Okay, but your intuition sucks. You were wrong about that one barista, that guy from my writing class, Daniel–”
“I’m not immune to making mistakes, but you’d have to be blind to not see this one.”
“We’re not like that,” you insist as Lucy walks out into your shared living room.
“Yeah, yeah,” she rolls her eyes as she pours a round of four shots. “A socialable and cute guy in engineering gives you his undivided attention and bends to your every will? His one bad trait is that he's sometimes smarter than you? How horrible.”
You open your mouth to double down, unwilling to let the subject go, but the topic is cut short as there’s a knock at your door.
Lucy’s previous birthday celebrations had included tame activities such as group dinners or game nights. Drinking was never out of the question, exactly, but it was almost never the main focal point of the night. Lucy had decided to change course for this year, specifically requesting to go out to bars with her other close friends. You’d carpool with Marie and Jenny since they lived in the same apartment building, but the rest of the main group planned to meet up later.
“Is this your first time at college night?” Jenny asks with a smile during the Uber ride over.
“Unfortunately,” you grumble as Lucy whips around to glare at you. You’d successfully evaded attending college nights at your local bar—in general, you dislike running into people you know during nights out—and Lucy had taken it upon herself to weaponize her birthday as a way for you to break your soft boycott.
“You just hate drinking in public because you’re a drunk crier,” Lucy says with a smug smirk.
Jenny’s eyes widen. “You are?”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Marie echoes.
“I’m not!” You insist.
“You’ll be fine,” Lucy says over the music. “There’s nothing happening at the bar that could possibly be tear-inducing anyway.”
Walking into the bar, the atmosphere itself immediately reminds you of why you generally stopped going out in the first place. The speakers are blasting with loud, bass-boosted music, you can barely see anything in the darkness, and, even if you could see anything, there’s so many people that it’s nearly impossible to move around.
“First round?” You manage to hear Lucy’s voice to your right.
“You’re lucky I love you,” you sigh as she tugs you along towards the bar.
Before you know it, the birthday girl herself has convinced you to take drink after drink until your head feels light and warm. You’re giggling and dancing with your girls without any pretenses, and your carefreeness relaxes even more when groups start to trickle out of the building. You can’t remember the last time you’d gone out and not felt any rush of social or academic anxiety ambush you.
When someone’s put it through your head that jello shots are somehow the next move, it’s your turn to wait at the bar until you can catch the bartender’s attention.
“I can help who’s next.” A familiar voice asks from just outside your field of vision. “What can I get you?”
You turn your head to lock eyes with a face you haven’t seen since the first week of classes. “Jaehyun?”
Jaehyun looks equal parts shocked and guilty. To his credit, he recovers quickly with a smile. “Been a while. Are you out with friends?”
Emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system, you cross your arms over your chest. “Um, yeah, it’s been a while—since you stopped showing up to all in-class and out-of-class group meetups.”
“Right.” He swallows, his smile turning more sheepish.
“I thought you picked up shifts during class? Unless this bar is open in the morning, too?”
That seems to give him more confidence. “Would you believe me if I said this is my second job?”
“I’ll believe you a little more if you give me a round on the house as an apology.”
Four free jello shots later, you return to your group with a victorious spring in your step. You’re feeling considerably less on top of the world, however, when the jello shot sends you just over the side of being too drunk. Lucy and the rest of the group have been there, as they’re overall more lightweight than yourself, leaving you to remain reliable through your own haze.
You’re not doing a great job, as you lose the other two after the DJ plays Gasolina, which leaves you to manage an incredibly intoxicated Lucy.
“Let’s get you water, then I’m calling the Uber. With or without those two,” you command as you try to lead Lucy from a table and back toward the bar. It’s an empty threat to try and get her to behave–you’d never leave them out to dry like that–but it has the opposite effect.
“I don’t wanna,” she whines as she refuses to budge. “We all have to go together.”
You use all of your restraint to refrain from shaking her by her shoulders. “If I promise to find them, will you stay here without moving?”
She nods wordlessly.
You take off towards the bar while swearing under your breath. You take a quick look around for the other two to no avail.
Luckily, Jaehyun’s the next available bartender again. You show a group picture to him on your phone. “Have you seen either of these girls?”
He squints at the screen. “They were here maybe a few minutes ago? Went back that way?” He points from the direction you came.
You groan. Of course you barely missed them. “Two waters, please.”
“Coming up,” he laughs. Jaehyun slides the two cups across the counter, but not before his eyes flicker to something over your shoulder. He grins. “Here to close out your tab?”
A voice sounds right near your ear. “Very funny, Jaehyun.”
Your neck snaps around so fast you think you may have given yourself whiplash. Sure enough, Jungwoo stands right behind you, his shocked expression mirroring your own.
“Hey?” He blinks, and his brown eyes roam over your face as if you’re an illusion that could disappear at any moment. He’s wearing jeans paired with a simple t-shirt and black jacket over the top. His hair is slicked back in a hairstyle that you’ve never seen on him before. In fact, under the dim bar lighting, Jungwoo looks like a completely different person.
It’s so different that your mind blanks, and out comes the first thing that your drunk brain thinks of.
“Are you stalking me?!”
He freezes, and you realize that, for once, you’ve rendered Kim Jungwoo speechless.
“That—that was supposed to be a joke. I meant,” you try to recover, “that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. It’s as if you were stalking me.”
Jaehyun doubles over with a deep roar of laughter, which makes your face heat in embarrassment.
Jungwoo clears his throat. “Jaehyun’s car is in the shop, so I’m picking him up from work. We live together. I know you said you might go out for your friend’s birthday on Thursday, but I didn’t realize it would be here. So no, I’m not stalking you.” Even in the low lights, a dusting of red is visible on his cheeks. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” you snap. You remember the two water cups on the bar and try to snatch at them, but you almost knock them both over in the process.
Jungwoo reaches over your arms and plucks up the cups before you can try again. “Where’s your group?”
“Over there,” you say with a small jerk of your head, “but I’m fine. I’m the most sober one, actually.”
That draws a laugh out of him. “I’m sure you are,” his smile warms your entire body. He nods to Jaehyun, who you’ve completely forgotten is behind the counter. “Does she have an open tab?”
“No. She blackmailed me for free drinks.”
“Free jello shots,” you can’t help but correct.
“She blackmailed me for free jello shots,” Jaehyun echoes with a pointed look at Jungwoo. The two seem to be having a silent conversation that you’re not privy to, which makes you all the more impatient.
You pry the water cups from Jungwoo’s hands while he’s distracted. “I can hold these, thanks.” Your drunk strength squeezes too much force on the right cup, causing some of the liquid to dribble over the edge.
“Good lord,” Jungwoo mutters. His hand moves to steady your elbows to support the drinks in your hands as he gently guides you back to your table. “Are you sure you don’t want to drink one for yourself? I think you should.”
“Nuh uh,” you say as you power through the crowd. “Not drunk.”
Miraculously, Lucy is sitting down obediently at the same place you’d left her, and the twins have magically popped up next to her. Lucy’s posture straightens immediately when she sees the two of you.
“Jungwoo’s here!” She points at him while shouting.
You nod, but the expression you shoot her screams For the love of god, please shut up.
Jungwoo pauses. “Have we met?”
Just through word of mouth. And your public instagram page, you think.
“Jungwoo, this is my roommate, Lucy.” You shove one cup of water into her hands and slide the other to be split by the twins. “Please drink these.”
Thankfully, she does as she’s told. It’s all going smoothly, and you’re one confirmation of payment away from calling the Uber when a waitress comes around with four shots on a tray.
“Happy birthday!” She sings with a dazzling smile.
You accept the drinks graciously to her face, only to whip around and unleash your fury on the group. “Who the hell ordered these?”
They all look away.
The beginnings of a headache thump behind your eyes. Despite the heat pooling in your cheeks and the slight dizziness buzzing around your head, you know what has to be done.
“Happy birthday,” you glare at Lucy as you place one shot in front of her.
Considering that you suspect at least one if not both twins just threw up in the bathroom, you don’t even consider giving either a shot. You are not willing to risk an Uber disaster tonight. Instead, you turn to Jungwoo with a stone cold expression.
“I need a favor.”
As if reading your mind, Jungwoo nods and slides a shot in front of himself. “I got you.”
That leaves the third. You want to take the last one—if anything, just to be courteous to Jungwoo, since he’s helping you out anyway—but your stomach lurches when you catch another whiff of alcohol. In the end, you and Jungwoo opt to split the last one in half. The first shot goes down smooth enough—or you’re so out of it that your sense of taste has completely checked out.
“Cheers,” you grimace as you pinch your nose and take half of the remaining shot. When you reach out to directly hand the shot glass over, Jungwoo pauses, his eyes darting between your lips and the rim of the glass.
“What is it?” You shout over the music, but your voice is too loud even to your own ears. “Take it!”
A faint pink flushes into his cheeks, but he does as you say. His nose wrinkles as he tilts his head back and drinks the remaining liquor. “It’ll be fun to feel the consequences of this during our presentation.”
“I doubt a shot and a half will affect you at all—” you cut yourself off as you process what he said.
Our presentation. Meaning, tomorrow morning's presentation. The same Friday presentation, you’re realizing, that you’ve completely forgotten to finish your designated slide for. Your heart drops to your ass.
It’s stupid. Logically, you know that one short presentation won’t tank your grade. However, coupled with your less than optimal first quiz score, it does make you feel like shit. You feel so terrible for leaving your group out to dry—what if they needed a good score to keep them from dropping down a grade?
“Don’t hate me,” you say sullenly, tears pricking at your eyes.
Jungwoo’s brow furrows. “Huh?”
You know you’re too drunk right now and you should think twice before airing out your insecurities, especially when you’d be airing them out to the classmate that consistently outperforms you. Even so, you can’t stop the single tear that betrays you by slipping down your face.
“Shit,” Jungwoo scrambles for a napkin, but your tears are too fast. He shifts to performing immediate damage control by wiping away at the tears with the pads of his thumbs instead. “Shh, no, everything’s okay. I could never hate you. Why are you crying?”
“I forgot to do my presentation slide for fluids,” you sob. “I totally forgot and now I’m gonna be too drunk to do it when I get home. I might still be drunk by the time I need to leave for class.”
A pause.
“Pfft.” He turns his head away and tries to cover his mouth so you can’t see him shaking with laughter. “Nerd.”
You shove at his arm. “Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m not,” he deadpans, even as the lines of his face look considerably more relaxed. He dabs at your drying tears with his sleeve. “It’s almost three in the morning anyway, so it would’ve been pretty ambitious for you to try and sober up in time to actually complete it.”
That makes the tears come back in full force. “I’m sorry that I’m a bad group member!” Without thinking, you bury your face into Jungwoo’s shoulder as you cry.
You feel the muscles on his shoulder stiffen before they relax. One hand comes out to stroke the back of your head, while the other rubs small circles on your back.
“You’re not. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”
“You already said that the other day,” you hiccup.
You feel his chest rise and fall with a huff of laughter. “I wouldn’t just say that if I didn’t mean it, dummy. This presentation isn’t even a big deal. Your part is like two slides. You’re smart and a hard worker, so stop calling yourself a bad group member. I wouldn’t like…working with you so much otherwise.”
That’s enough to make your crying subside. When you finally pull away, he wipes again at the smeared makeup on your face.
“Don’t worry about your section of the presentation tomorrow. I’ll do it. Just stay home and I’ll tell our professor that you’re sick–which I have a feeling it won’t be a lie, so don’t argue with me right now. Does all of that sound okay?”
You nod with a sniffle. “Thank you. Really.”
The corners of his eyes soften. He reaches his hand to smooth out a rogue hair; this time, you catch his outstretched hand and lean your head into this open palm.
“Ah,” He turns his gaze away suddenly with a strangled cough. His face glows a bright red. “It looks like your friend’s Uber is here.”
Lucy stands at the bar entrance with a knowing smile on her face. The twins are sitting on the curb a few feet away outside of the bar, looking away. You hadn’t even noticed that the three had snuck out sometime during your conversation with Jungwoo.
Jungwoo still walks the short distance with you to meet her. Lucy holds back laughter as you both hover around the entryway.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say shyly.
“I better not—well, I mean that in the sense that you shouldn’t come to class in the morning.” His arm reaches to scratch the back of his head. “You know what I mean. Text me when you get home.”
“I will,” you laugh as Lucy tugs you away.
“I told you,” she brags with a smug grin plastered across her face. “You’re a drunk crier, and he’s down bad.”
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
When you wake up, the time on your alarm flashes back at you: 11:27am. Two and a half hours past your normal Friday morning class.
You squint and ignore the pounding in your head ignited by the light flooding from your phone’s display.
Your phone is flooded with message notifications, the oldest starting from Lucy at 2am last night and the most recent being seven messages from Jungwoo (intro to eng).
Heart racing, you click on Jungwoo’s chat first.
[8:15am]: morning :) hope you’re feeling ok
[8:16am]: in case you forgot, do NOT come to class today
[8:16am]: I already made ur slide
[8:16am]: so coming would just make it awkward for both of us
[9:15am]: presentation went well, I convinced prof to not require a makeup assignment for u
[9:25am]: lmk when you’re alive
[9:36am]: don’t forget to drink water :)
His messages draw a sleepy snort of laughter from you. He knew you so well — if you had the physical capability to wake up on time this morning, you probably would’ve tried to fill out your slide in a panic and charge over to lecture. Too bad you’d snoozed your alarm in your sleep. It was nice to know that he still had your back, even after drunk you had lowkey terrorized him.
I drank water when I got home, you text back, but someone should’ve told me to drink some at the bar.
The response is almost immediate. I did. You’re stubborn when you want to be.
You roll your eyes. And this is new?
Guess not. Are u planning on coming to materials lecture?
Your head pulses as you sit up in bed. For all intents and purposes, there’s no reason to push yourself to attend your Intro to Material Science lecture today. Jaehyun and Mark don’t show up anyway, and you know Jungwoo would cover you in case it was an issue.
Still, it’s the inexplicable giddiness in your chest that causes you to reply yep, see ya later.
A heart reaction appears over your message, leaving you humming as you tap on your chat with Lucy.
Immediately, your fingers freeze in place over the screen. Two images capture the latter half of last night. The first shows you walking toward the table with water cups in hand, Jungwoo spotting your back. All of that feels familiar; what does not is Jungwoo’s hands guiding you along, one hand on your right elbow and the other hovering close to your waist.
You’re sure that he didn’t touch your waist at all, but the angle of the camera misleads your eyes and makes your skin prickle as if he did. It sure looks like it.
The next picture captures your crying session at the tail end of the night. Jungwoo’s hands cradle your face to wipe away your tears. What you hadn’t been able to see through your waterworks, however, was his face as he looked at you. Startlingly, it’s an expression that you recognize on him — mouth curved upwards, eyes warm, and attention rapt on you. Even so, the softness lining his features triggers your heart to leap. If you were an outsider looking in, you’d describe it as tender.
Down bad, Lucy’s text says below the text.
You’re so shocked that you forget to dislike her message. You text back: what the fuck?
I’m talking about both of you btw, she replies, and you’re about to press her further when her last picture pops into the chat.
It’s still your crying session, mere moments after the first picture, but one glaring thing is different. Not only is Jungwoo’s back to the camera, but you’re the focal point of the lens. Your head leans into Jungwoo’s open palm, and you gaze up at him through thick lashes that look almost siren-like.
You nearly launch your phone across the room. You immediately exit out of the messages.
You refuse to allow yourself to dwell or over analyze it. You go through the motions of getting ready as usual and dart out of the apartment before Lucy can goad you further.
At materials lecture, Jungwoo keeps the seat next to him open for you, as always.
“Hey,” you say as you slide into the seat.
“Ah, hey,” Jungwoo ruffles through his bag and holds out a water bottle. “Need it?”
“Oh–I have one. Thanks, though.”
He slides it over anyway. “Eh, take it for later.”
“Are you sure?”
His eyes crinkle at the edges, and there’s a warmth in his eyes as he grins mischievously. “I think the odds of you needing it over me are higher.”
“Whatever.” Your voice sounds cool enough, but your heart betrays you by thundering away in your chest. The look in his eyes exactly mirrors his expression from Lucy’s photo last night.
He doesn’t pick up on your stiffness, instead leaning back in his chair and tapping the edge of his pen against his desk. “Professor Jang is pretty late today, no?”
As if on cue, other students collectively groan and start muttering amongst themselves. A few people get up first before the rest of the class begins to follow.
Jungwoo straightens in his seat. “Whoa, what’s happening?”
On intuition, you check your email. Sure enough, there’s a recent message from Professor Jang:
Hi MAT101,
Class will be cancelled today, as my kid is throwing up everywhere.
Thanks,
Jang
Sent From My iPhone.
“Ugh, we were all already here,” you groan, flashing the message over to Jungwoo. “And we have our next class after this.”
He nods and puts his things in his bag. “Want to check out some of the pop-ups around campus while we wait?”
“Sure,” you shrug. “There’s an event today?”
“Seemed like it, but no idea what it’s for,” he shrugs back. “Should be chill enough, I think.”
When the two of you stroll outside and turn towards the rows of booths, it immediately becomes apparent that things are not chill. The booths are covered with colors of pink, red, and white. Heart and cupid designs sprinkle the front of at least half.
“Uh, Jungwoo? What day is it?”
He taps his phone to turn on the display, and the resulting date confirms your suspicions: February 14th.
“How did I not even realize it’s Valentine’s day?” You ask yourself, massaging your temples.
“Well, you were in a pretty rough state last night,” Jungwoo offers.
You glare at him. “Gee, thanks.”
He nudges your shoulder. “Come on, let’s check it out anyway. It’s just a theme.”
He strolls towards each booth without a care in the world. You trail behind him, incredibly self-conscious. You wonder if, to the average passerby, the two of you look just like any other browsing couple.
And would you hate that?
You can’t think further into it, as Jungwoo calls out your name from the other end of a vendor tent. “Come look at these candles.”
The candles all look the same physically: pink wax within a heart shaped ceramic. It’s cute enough to pique your interest, and you hold one titled Slow Burn.
“Whoa,” you sniff again. The main scent is a light citrus, with other fruity notes that you can’t quite discern.
You hold the candle up to Jungwoo. “I’m smelling citrus and…mango?”
He leans in. “Definitely mango? Potentially passionfruit?”
You’re sold. You wait in the line, ready to purchase your candle, until you rustle through your bag and realize that you’ve forgotten your wallet at home.
“Ah shit,” you mutter. “I have to put this back.”
Jungwoo cocks his head. “Why? I thought you liked it.”
“I forgot my wallet,” you sigh. You’re one step out of the line when Jungwoo tugs at your arm.
“I’ll spot you,” he says while prying the item out of your hands.
You shake your head. “Please don’t, you’ve been too nice to me lately. I’m already too far deep in debt with all the favors you’ve done for me.”
“Well…” He ignores you, handing the candle back to the cashier. It ends up wrapped in a dainty white bag, which he holds out to you. “What’s another one?”
The cashier smiles at you both. “Please also feel free to take advantage of our photobooth over there. It’s free with the purchase.”
It’s one of those electronic photobooth cameras that sends the image to you directly; currently, there’s no takers, and all of the nearby props are still neatly organized on the display. Clearly, no one’s used it.
“Let’s go,” you whisper, but Jungwoo’s already at the display table rifling through the accessories.
He settles on a puppy ear headband before glancing over at where you’re standing with your mouth wide open. “Pick a prop!”
After overcoming your initial reluctance, you settle for a headband with hearts on it as well as a classic candy heart cutout that says Be Mine.
He’s already setting up the photobooth to send a copy to each of your emails. You fidget in the frame, trying not to look as awkward as you feel.
“Alright, let me start it…oh wait,” he leans back to the table to also grab a candy heart cutout. “Okay, now.”
Thankfully, it’s only set up for one picture; the camera flashes and you immediately receive an email notification: Access your Cupid Candle Photos Here.
You click the link as you both make your way to the main walkway. As expected, you’re both smiling at the camera with your headbands on.
What you don’t anticipate is that, next to your Be Mine cutout, Jungwoo’s reads I’m Yours.
Your feet ground in place.
You’re not an idiot completely unaware of your own feelings – you’re simply just good at ignoring and pushing them away for later – but no amount of compartmentalization can obscure the truth from these images literally staring you in the face and the butterflies frenzying within your stomach.
You have feelings for Kim Jungwoo.
In truth, you can’t even pinpoint exactly when they started. You know him so well that it doesn’t feel like a sudden fall head-over-heels. Like him, it’s steady and supported by a deep sense of respect and fondness.
That doesn’t make admitting it to yourself any easier. You’d fallen for him now, of all times, years later?
“Hey,” you feel a tug on your arm. Jungwoo’s eyes scan you with concern. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you lie. “Just felt a little dizzy.”
He frowns. “Give me your bag.”
He takes it before you can reply and doesn’t stop there. He pulls your arm so it loops into his, and the two of you continue towards your next lecture linked.
The close proximity does make you dizzy, and you cling to his arm in earnest.
You may not be able to say when you fell for him, but god are you in deep.
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
Something shifts. Your next few days are all filled with Jungwoo–walking to class together, grabbing meals, and texting during the times you’re not together. It almost alarms you to realize how easy it is with him.
You’re separated for what feels like the first time in days during one of your classes, where you’re randomly paired up with your classmate, Mina, to work together on an in-class problem. It goes by easily enough, although you can see Jungwoo sneaking peeks at you mid-assignment. He really has nothing to worry about, as both of you have been paired with smart people.
You and Mina end up being one of the first pairs to finish, turning in your papers and waiting at your desk for others to finish. You spin a pen around in your hand in boredom.
“Waiting for Jungwoo?” She asks.
You nod. “He’ll probably throw a fit if I leave before he’s done.”
“I meant to ask,” Mina whispers as if sharing a secret. “Are you and Jungwoo dating?”
“What?” Your pen spins out of your hand and over your shoulder. “No, we’re not dating!”
She raises an eyebrow. “Talking, then?”
Your mind races. Sure, in the literal sense, you see him during and after nearly every class, study together on the weekends, call him when you struggle with problem sets, and text him random things in the interim. But all that isn’t talking talking—right? Something definitely has felt different this week, but your newfound awareness of your own feelings muddle any objective clarity you had before.
“No,” you manage to rasp out. “We’re not.”
“Ah, damn.” Mina rests her head in her hands. “Some of us have been waiting for you guys to get together since first year.”
“Really?” Your voice comes out shrill.
“Yeah, you guys just seem to really get along and work together the best. Natural chemistry and all that.”
You laugh. “Oh, that’s interesting.”
“Would you, though?”
“Would I what?”
“Be interested in him at all,” she clarifies, leaning in.
You should laugh it off, lie, and leave it at that. You definitely don’t owe any of your classmates any information about your love life, but your nerves make you start blabbering whatever comes to mind.
“Yeah, that’s funny you say that, I really couldn’t stand Jungwoo for a while. In fact, he was picking on me so much that I was basically cursing his name every class because we always get matched to work together.”
“Uh…” Mina’s eyes widen.
“It probably seems like chemistry since I’m used to him being a weirdo around me all the time. So no, we’re not dating, and good luck to his future girlfriend, I guess—ow!” You cry as Mina kicks your shin.
“Shh,” she hisses.
You hear a cough behind you.
“You dropped your pen,” Jungwoo says with absolutely no trace of emotion on his face. He drops the pen onto the desk in front of you and turns to leave.
You’re out of your seat and running after him in a split second. When you catch up to him, you grab at his sweatshirt sleeve. “Jungwoo—!”
“Don’t,” he says as he tugs his sleeve out of your hands. “It’s fine. Really.”
“No, really–”
“Leave me alone, okay? Maybe I don’t want you around me all the time either, if we’re stuck together so much.”
You let him go. Later, you try to text and call him, but all of your messages bounce back. He’s absent from all of your shared classes despite the fact that he’s barely missed a single class within the entire time that you know him.
When you show up to your materials class the following Monday, Jaehyun and Mark are sitting in your usual spot. Jungwoo is nowhere to be found.
“Wow, look at who finally showed up in person. Welcome back,” you say flatly.
The two exchange a look that you don’t even care to interpret. You plop your bag on the ground next to Mark’s seat and start taking notes without another word.
When Professor Jang reaches the end of his powerpoint early and announces time for group work, you’re already packing your things up. There was no reason for you to be there; your project presentation was almost completely done, and Jungwoo was definitely ignoring you. You’d lost access to the shared docs last night anyway, so you can’t work on anything even if you tried. You don’t even know why the other two had finally bothered to show up.
“Wait,” Jaehyun says.
You turn to him in surprise – more for the fact that this is one of the few times you’ve heard him initiate, well, anything. “Yes?”
Jaehyun thinks for a moment before answering slowly. “Just give Jungwoo time. He just needs to sulk about it.”
That comment does little more than stoke the flames of your building irritation. He’d been talking to his friends about you?
“Well maybe I don’t want to talk to him either,” you spit out without caring about how childish you sound. “It’s fine, since we’re both sick of being paired together time after time.”
Jaehyun exhales in what you think is a laugh. “I don’t know what he said to you, but he definitely isn’t sick of that.”
Mark elbows Jaehyun in the ribs. “Dude!”
“Um.” Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“He’s just saying random stuff,” Mark babbles, but Jaehyun’s already talking over him.
“Do you know the odds of being randomly paired with the same person over and over again?”
“Uh, low?”
“For this class alone, you had a 3/199 chance, which would be around 1.5 percent likelihood. To calculate the probability of a second project in a similarly sized class and project group you would multiply 3/199 by 3/199, which would give you…” He types the numbers into a calculator. “...a 0.023 percent chance of being paired together in 2 independent projects.”
“...And?” You aren’t sure why Jaehyun is flexing his statistics skills right in front of you. Respectfully, you didn’t know he could do math like that.
“If the likelihood of being paired together in only one class is 1.5 percent, and the probability of being paired together in project after project only lowers each time…” He stares at you. “Do you really think that’s completely random?”
In the midst of his awkward delivery, that’s when you finally get it. There’s a flutter of hope in your chest that makes your heart race.
“How were groups chosen for this class?” You ask while barely containing your smile.
“Choose your own groups,” Jaehyun grins. “There was an uneven number since you were gone, so Professor Jang said there would need to be one group of three to take the missing person–”
“–and Jungwoo fought off anyone else trying to join our group!” Mark finally bursts in, unable to keep himself out of the conversation. “He told everyone else that your spot was already reserved.”
The verbal confirmation sends a wave of heat climbing up your neck. You clear your throat. “And how long am I supposed to wait for him to stop sulking?”
There’s a long pause as Jaehyun thinks. “Probably a week.” A mischievous grin spreads across his face. “But I have a way for you to speak with him sooner.”
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
Sooner turns out to be the following Wednesday. You pause in front of the door of the address Jaehyun sent you. Your hand shakes as you knock three times in succession.
The music inside goes silent, and there’s some shuffling on the other side for a few minutes before Mark pokes his head out of the doorway. His face relaxes when he sees you.
“Hey!” He swings the door open for you. “Sorry for the sudden silence. We thought you were Jungwoo at first.”
“All good,” you fake a smile and hope it’s convincing. “How have you been?”
You don’t really listen as Mark leads you through the house, and you fail to retain any names when he introduces you to new people here and there. You could figure it out later when you’re much less nervous.
Jaehyun turned out to be more conniving than you expected—he’d concocted this plan in lecture with you, detail-by-detail, although you were starting to get the sneaking suspicion that he had this in mind all along.
The main setting central to his plan: the surprise party. As his housemate, Jaehyun had already planned a surprise birthday party for Jungwoo with the rest of their friend group. What he hadn’t prefaced in advance was how overly male their friend group was, and you stick out like a sore thumb.
“He’s turning into the neighborhood,” a voice announces from the other side of the house.
”He’s gonna know immediately,” you hiss to Jaehyun as people start finding their hiding spots.
He gestures to the back of the room with a nod of his head. ”Follow me.”
There’s a couch toward the back of the room that faces away from the entrance. You plop down on the cushions. “I fail to see how this helps.”
“I’ll hide next to you, pop out, then leave. You’ll stay.”
”Okay?”
”I’m willing to bet that he won’t even think to walk over here,” Jaehyun explains, ever patient. “Let alone look at who’s sitting on the couch.”
It seems utterly ridiculous, but you’re not in a position to be arguing. This is his house and his plan, after all, and you didn’t have any other bright ideas of your own to begin with. Jungwoo’s made himself impossible to reach, and you’re desperate.
You hug your knees into your chest and press your back into the cushion. Jaehyun settles next to you facing the opposite direction.
The house is completely still as the lock jiggles and the door swings open. Everyone keeps their cool until you hear Jungwoo switch on the lights to the kitchen. Click.
“Surprise!” Everyone except you jumps up from their respective hiding places. You stay in place from your seat on the couch as Jaehyun floats back toward the front of the room.
Some of the other partygoers drift over to your side of the room and startle, shooting the occasional confused glance in your direction, but you don’t care. The ultimate goal is to catch him off guard after his inhibitions have been lowered.
The first step of Jaehyun’s plan unfolds: you hear someone yell “Shot!” accompanied by the mass pouring of cups followed by a group of cheers. The lights turn back off after the group shot, which makes it difficult to discern what happens next without potentially breaking your cover. You’re hiding out on the couch for at least twenty more minutes until you feel a tap on your shoulder.
“It’s been done,” Jaehyun plops down on the cushions next to you. “I think someone else might have roped him into a third and potentially fourth shot, though.”
Your head tilts. “He seems like he can hold his liquor decently enough, right?”
Jaehyun bursts out into a fit of deep laughter. “God, no. He was probably just trying to look cool in front of you. He ended up bugging me at the bar for at least an hour until he sobered up at the very end of my shift, and then I still ended up driving his car home–”
“Jaehyun!” You hear Jungwoo’s voice drawling over the crowd.
“Look, I should probably warn you…” Jaehyun ducks so that his head isn’t visible from behind the couch and lowers his tone so the music drowns out his words. “Jungwoo’s always funny, but when he drinks he gets a little–”
“Jaeeeehyuun!” A pair of arms fling from behind the couch to engulf Jaehyun into a loose hug. Jungwoo’s forehead buries into Jaehyun’s left shoulder. “Why are you hiding from me? Who are you talking to?”
Jungwoo’s head spins around to peek at you, his position on Jaehyun’s shoulder so close to you that your noses nearly brush each other. At point blank eye contact, you witness his brown eyes widen with recognition.
“Oh,” you whisper, afraid to break the tension. “Surprise?”
He jerks away, head bobbing between the two of you on the couch. “You brought her?”
Too late, you and Jaehyun both realize the assumption firing through his brain.
“Wait–” you start.
“Woos–” Jaehyun sighs as he stands up, but Jungwoo has already fled somewhere deep into the house.
The two of you shake your head at each other and move in unison without exchanging a single word. Jaehyun leads the way, knocking and peeking into rooms for signs of Jungwoo. The other attendees in the main room are relatively useless in the search, as they’re currently engaged in some sort of drinking game.
When you finally open the final bedroom door, Jungwoo looks up from the edge of the bed with a wide, shocked expression.
“Found you,” you joke softly as you let yourself inside.
You look at Jaehyun with raised eyebrows. You’ll take his word for whatever he says, at this point–after all, he seems much more familiar with the mannerisms of drunk Jungwoo when compared to you, but he simply shrugs and flashes a thumbs up at you.
“You got this,” he says before slipping out of the room.
Thanks a lot, Jaehyun, you think.
“Hey,” you say as you step forward. It’s ridiculous, the way you approach carefully like he’s a feral dog that might run away at any moment. Regardless, you’re able to slink up and settle next to him on the edge of the bed. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” He avoids eye contact. “Why are you here?”
You know that he’s been openly avoiding you, but the blunt question stings you nonetheless. “I was invited to your surprise party.”
“Jaehyun brought you as his date for my surprise birthday party,” he grumbles.
You shake your head. “Jaehyun invited me because you won’t show up to class, text me back, or answer my calls.”
Brief silence. “I’ve been busy.”
“Jungwoo, you blocked me on gmail. I can’t even access or edit our group presentation because you’re the owner.”
“I didn’t want you to see my cursor active on the shared doc,” he mutters.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course you’d end up falling for a guy who could match your pettiness up to a T. With him, the best approach is to be as direct as possible.
“Jungwoo, please let me apologize.” You struggle to squeeze the words out. “I know why you’re ignoring me, and I definitely deserve it, but I miss you.”
That seems to catch him off guard enough that he forgets to evade eye contact. His gaze squints at you in open caution, but a glint of curiosity lies behind it. “…I’m not going to run away or anything.”
Doubtful, but you resist the urge to comment.
“I shouldn’t have said all of that to Mina,” you start, “and I didn’t really mean it in the first place.”
“...That’s kind of hard to believe, when you were willing to say all that to someone you don’t know as well,” he responds. The discomfort in his face makes your chest squeeze. You’re really feeling the worst, to be the one making him so obviously uneasy.
“I know, and I’m really sorry.” You fidget uncomfortably with the fabric of your clothes. “Look, in the past–I thought you were messing with me, like, all of the time. I was having a really hard time making friends, so I just redirected my frustration at you.”
He frowns. “I always considered you my friend.”
“I know.”
“I always tried to include you in conversations because I could tell you get nervous meeting new people.”
“God, I–yes, I realize that now,” you groan. “I didn’t even believe it anymore when I said that to her.”
“If you didn’t feel that way anymore, then why did you still say it?”
It’s a more than valid question, but he doesn’t realize the slippery slope it’s leading you down. “Well…she was asking a lot of nosy questions?”
His brows furrow. “About what? Our friendship?”
“About…” It’s so difficult to say what you want to–it’s like the words are caught in your chest, suspended in place. However, he deserves honesty from you, after everything you’ve said. “...whether or not we’re dating?”
“Oh,” his voice flattens. “And the idea is so ridiculous that you had to reassure her that you’d never date such an annoying guy?”
“No!”
“Then what?”
“God – can you let me speak for two sentences without interrupting?”
“I’m not interrupting! Just tell me what she said!”
“You just interrupted me again!” You shriek. “She asked me if I was interested in you, and I didn’t want Mina from ENG 150 to be the first one to find out I was!”
Jungwoo’s about to interrupt with another comeback when he finally processes your words. He freezes in place, eyes wide, and the tips of his ears turn a bright shade of red. “You’re what?”
“Interested in you,” you say unflinchingly, even though you can feel the heat rising to your own face. “I like you, Jungwoo. A lot.”
His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “Oh.”
You take the opportunity to scoot closer to him. Your hand grabs his. “I’m sorry that I said all of that to Mina. I didn’t mean it. I’ve only just been figuring out my feelings, and I didn’t know what to do with them. I totally freaked out.”
You’re patient as you let him sit through his thoughts. The expression on his face stays in shock, relaxes into slight confusion, and then eventually, to your surprise, twists into a smile.
“You like me,” he grins.
Your face burns. “I do.”
His smile widens. “Enough to crash my birthday party.”
“Ugh–yes.” You hide your face in your hands. “Telling you this today wasn’t in the plan, by the way.”
“Liking me was just that irresistible?”
You scoff. “Well, at least I wasn’t the one rigging all of the group project assignments.”
He jumps to his feet. “I’m going to kill Jaehyun–”
“Hey,” you yank him back down on the floor next to you. “Can you at least say it back to me before you fight your best friend?”
He looks away, but his thumb rubs absentmindedly at the top of your hand. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“By the way you trapped me as your project partner for three years? Yes,” you smile, “but I still want to hear it from you.”
“I just wanted an excuse to be close to you,” he pouts. There’s a slight pause as his eyes connect with yours. “I’ve liked you since the day we met. I thought my feelings would go away since you weren’t interested, but they never did. If anything, they got stronger.”
His vulnerability makes the mood shift. There’s something about his parted lips and the flush across his face that kicks your soft affection into sudden desire. You swallow thickly as your eyes slide down the length of his neck and on the exposed collarbone peeking through his disheveled shirt.
He whispers your name, which sends another volt of electricity down your spine. “What’s wrong?”
It’s the small, lingering trace of alcohol on his breath that snaps you back to your senses. You feel like a complete and utter pervert; the possibly most lightweight person you’ve ever met was clearly in a vulnerable position, and all you could think about was kissing him?
“Let’s get you back in the main room for some water,” you say gently as you begin to rise from the end of the bed.
His arms envelop you, slamming you both down on the bed. “Don’t go,” he whines.
The force of his hug alone has you laying on your back with Jungwoo’s arms around your waist, effectively anchored in place with his head resting on your stomach. You press your hands to your face, which feels flaming hot to the touch.
Despite your racing heartbeat, you manage to laugh. “I thought you were the one avoiding me.”
“We both know it wasn’t going to last long,” he mumbles. His mouth lies mere inches away from your stomach, his hot breath warming your skin through the fabric of your shirt. It sends a wave of heat through your body. “I just thought you hated me. And maybe liked Jaehyun more than me.”
You laugh again, but your heart melts. It takes all of your willpower to not get lost in the atmosphere. You allow yourself to run your hand through his hair, which is just as soft as you thought it would be. “Jungwoo?”
“Mmm?” His eyes close at your touch.
“Get up.”
He’s confused but finally follows your directions to sit up. Long lashes blink up at you expectantly.
“I don’t hate you,” you say through a suppressed grin. “And I certainly don’t like Jaehyun more than you.”
He grabs your hand from its position in his hair, holding it over his heart. “Promise?”
“Promise.” Knowing there’s a chance his memory might be muddled tomorrow, you add, “I wouldn’t remember just anyone’s coffee order, you know.”
Jungwoo lifts your hand and presses a kiss to the back. Then, his eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly he’s leaning in closer and closer–
You turn your face at the last minute so that he kisses your cheek instead.
“Not now,” you say firmly as you finally rise to your feet. “I don’t want our first kiss to be like this.”
“I don’t mind,” he grumbles, but he pulls his hands back into his lap.
“Well, you’re drunk. Off of maybe three shots of soju, may I add?”
“It was four, but I see your point.”
You pause. His pouting face is so endearing that you can’t fully resist; you lean forward and cup under his chin with both hands, pressing one kiss to his right cheek, left cheek, and finally his forehead.
“Happy birthday, Jungwoo,” you whisper against his skin. “Now let’s go.”
You lead Jungwoo by the hand out of the bedroom and through the main area of the house until you spot Jaehyun; you launch your drunk crush into his arms on sight. “Please take him.”
Jaehyun raises his eyebrows. “Went well?”
“We’re perfectly fine. He’s just a clingy monster when drunk.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Hey,” Jungwoo murmurs from Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Don’t get too friendly with her.”
Your face warms.
“I won’t.” Jaehyun smirks. “But don’t worry, Woos. I’m sure you’ll be very happy tomorrow.”
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
You wake up the next morning to a single text: Good morning
You laugh to yourself and repeat the sentiment back.
I want to see you, Jungwoo texts. Wanna get coffee?
An hour later you’re walking towards one of your favorite cafes on campus. Your heart quickens when you see Jungwoo waiting for you at the entrance.
Before you can even think about what to say, he interrupts first while holding a drink out to you. “Your usual.”
You crack a smile. “What if I wanted something different today?”
”You don’t.”
“Yeah, I don’t.”
His shoulders relax. “Would you be okay with just walking around?”
You nod and follow his lead. The two of you stroll down one of the many walkways, the rest of campus serene and still.
You break the silence first. “Not too hungover?”
”Well,” he grimaces. “I’ve had better days, but it could be worse.”
”I’m surprised you’re doing okay in the brightness, then.”
“Well, like I said, I wanted to see you.”
The honesty causes your face to feel hot. “I see.”
There’s another stretch of quiet. The two of you are in the engineering area of campus now, and you see a familiar building on your right.
“That’s where we had Intro to Engineering, right?” You ask.
He nods. “Sure is.”
You can’t bear beating around the bush anymore. “You actually liked me from the first day? This class?”
“This class.”
“You’re kidding.” You stiffen despite yourself. It feels like an entirely new thing to hear it again from sober Jungwoo’s mouth.
“Not kidding. I remember thinking you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground as he kicks a pebble down the trail. “I couldn’t believe my luck that we got paired together. Then I found out you were beautiful, smart, and funny.”
You find your gaze drawn to the ground now too. “It’s just a little hard to believe.”
From that first day of college, you’d never been the most secure in your identity, whether it be your looks, personality, or abilities. It always seemed like there was another student with better grades or better internships. Even three years later, you’ve never been able to fully shake off the desire to prove yourself. It’s almost too much to know that, this whole time, there had been someone seeing you and believing in your best potential.
You swallow thickly. How were you supposed to explain that, while he’d been seeing the best in you, you had returned the favor with a one sided grudge. “Jungwoo, I—“
“Don’t apologize.” His head raises sharply. “I know you thought I was annoying.”
“…a bit. And overachieving.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “‘A bit’ doesn’t seem like it would cover cursing my name every class.”
Hot shame flushes to your face. “I thought I believed that for a long time, but I was just jealous. Everything just came so easily to you—grades, friends, even our professors always liked you instantly. I felt like I worked my ass off just to barely have the grades to show for this entire program.” You take a deep breath. “So seeing you all the time just rubbed it in my face.”
“And I’m sure it helped to have me request you for almost every project?”
Your throat dries. “So you did do that.”
He shoots you a pointed look. “You said Jaehyun already told you.”
“Well, he alluded to it, but he wasn’t that specific. He kinda just guided me to put two and two together.” You don’t mention Mark exposing him for this semester’s class. You’re sure that the kid deals with enough from that friend group.
“I did.” The tips of his ears turn bright red, but he pushes through his embarrassment. “At first it was to catch your attention. When I realized you weren’t interested, I kept doing it because of your work ethic.”
That leaves you nearly speechless. “What?”
“Well,” he sniffs, “unlike some people here, I thought we were friends.”
“My work ethic,” you echo. “No other reason?”
He rubs the back of his head. “I guess I always told myself that I would go for it if you ever seemed interested, but that was it. I didn’t think you’d actually look at me like that, but–” he stops abruptly.
“...but?” You prompt him.
“And then you looked so starry eyed with Jaehyun that it pissed me off enough to start aggressively flirting with you.”
“I wasn’t—ugh, whatever. You won’t believe me.”
”I won’t.” He smiles, but it’s genuine.
“I’m glad you did, though,” you admit, “or else I probably never would’ve gotten my head out of my ass.”
”When did you realize that you liked me?”
”I honestly don’t know,” you admit. “You crept up on me.”
He hums, but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.
You turn back around suddenly, walking down the path until you’re in front of the building of your first ever class. The same lecture hall that you met in.
This will look so stupid if the door isn’t unlocked, you think, but the door slides open without resistance.
The lights turn on from your movement. Jungwoo slips in behind you. “What are you doing?”
You spot your unassigned assigned seat, right on the end of one of the middle aisles. You climb up the steps until you reach it and seat yourself.
Jungwoo stares at you from the bottom of the steps before catching the hint and settling next to you. “Feeling nostalgic?”
“Yeah,” you say, resting your elbows on the surface. “It’s just crazy that the first day started everything with us.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
You hold his gaze and smile, leaning forward, but he stays fixed in place looking at you.
”Um,” you say finally. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
“Here?” Conflict crosses his face. “Isn’t it a little…”
“Sentimental?”
“Musty.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine, we don’t have to—"
You’re cut off as Jungwoo tilts your chin with this hand and leans forward to press his lips to yours. Your lips push and pull in slow, languid motions; even through his lips and hand cradling your face, he touches you with intention.
“I wanted to kiss you somewhere romantic,” he huffs when you pull away. “On a real date.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, pressing a peck to his cheek. “Next time.”
i may be suffering from the craziest writer's block ever but you know i had to rally for jungwoo's upcoming birthday!! 😤
in all honesty i wrote by chance last summer (all of it was complete before sunkissed secrets was even written 🫣) and have been going back and forth on whether or not to post it....but since it literally takes place during valentine’s + his birthday i finally said fuck it LOL 🥳🐶
all that to say hi to those who tune in!! 🤍🤍🤍 i'm still actively writing c: just slowly since life has been BUSYYY
in other news, I have a jaemin skating AU that's almost ready for everyone 👀 just debating on whether to release a teaser first this week OR just release it all in the next couple of weeks hehe
by chance | k.jw
kim jungwoo x reader | happy jungwoo day! 🐶💗
word count: 12.7k
genre: college!AU, fluff, frenemies to lovers, slight academic rivals to lovers, engineering student!Jungwoo & Reader, female identifying reader
warnings: swearing, drinking
playlist:
CRUSH (sunkis, ASTN, Bren Joy) | falling for a friend (grentperez) | honey (boy pablo) | feel the same (the millennial club) | glue song (beabadoobee)
summary:
After three years of being paired with Kim Jungwoo in almost every group project, you start to realize that your least favorite partner might not be so random—or so unbearable—after all.
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
If there’s anything you hated the most about college (aside from the ever surmounting tuition fees), it would be mandated group projects. It was a lose-lose situation; a group of strangers almost never divided the work fairly, and you’d found that even working with friends often strained the relationship until the dust settled. The most offensive group projects of them all, in your opinion, always included randomized group members that you’d be stuck with for the entire term.
So when you walk into the second session for your Intro to Material Science class and see group project spread across each week’s coursework plan, you feel like crying. Even worse, you see that group selection occurred during the last class period, which you missed due to a doctor’s appointment. At the time you’d thought that missing syllabus day wouldn’t hurt, but for once that had been the worst timing possible.
Professor Jang lectures for half of the class period before flipping to a slide that just reads Group Time!
“Now,” your professor says with a clap of his hands. “I am giving you the rare but useful opportunity to work on your group project in class with your groupmates. Remember—if you haven’t already exchanged contact information, please do so. While these groups will also be your small groups for in-class discussions and problems, I will probably not be giving you a lot of chances to work on your actual project during class.”
You slink up to your TA as the other students shuffle themselves into their groups.
“Hi,” you say with a nervous laugh. “I was gone last class, could I have some help finding my group?”
“Sure!” Your TA says with a smile. When you’ve given her your name, she scrolls through a list on her laptop. “So it says right here that your partners are Jeong Jaehyun, Lee Mark, and–”
You hear a familiar voice shout your name, and all the hairs on your neck stand on end. You turn around slowly, and sure enough—
It’s Jungwoo waving you down to his table at the far corner of the room. His energy far exceeds the enthusiasm of the other two group members, who tap through their phones in bored scrolls.
You’d first encountered Kim Jungwoo on the very first day of college. You’d stumbled into your first Intro to Engineering class scared of your impending course load and nervous to meet new people. You’d claimed a safe enough seat—not too close to the front, but also not in the dead back—and been caught off guard when your seat partner immediately turned to introduce himself. At the time Jungwoo had been a welcome source of social relief, especially when you ended up being paired in a group project together in that same class.
It wasn’t that Jungwoo had a bad work ethic or couldn’t grasp the concerts. He was simply too smart and involved for his own good. Among a wave of socially awkward engineering students, he was quick to take charge and transform the atmosphere into something more comfortable. Guys loved him, and you could see girls developing crushes on him in real time.
While his charisma was something you’d usually appreciate in the midst of meeting random people, he always seemed to enjoy messing with you in particular. He looped you in as the butt of the joke constantly with the guys. When you had to split into pairs and girls would turn to him with a hopeful sheen in their eyes, you would see their hope transform into hatred when he would turn to trap you as his partner. In your small bubble that was desperate to make friends in your own major, Kim Jungwoo was the reason why the girls hated you and the guys couldn’t take you seriously. As if it wasn’t bad enough, he outperformed you on nearly every single quiz, homework assignment, and exam possible.
On top of it all, you’d been paired with him in at least one group project every term since that very first class together. In your third year, this most recent project would now tally into a grand total of nine projects together. Nine projects and zero new friends.
Jungwoo continues waving until you’ve reached the group’s spot. “I’m surprised you didn’t see me earlier. I was trying to wave you down before you walked up to the TA.”
You shrug. “I was too focused, I guess.”
The other two group mates at the table look up from their phones when they hear your voice.
“My name’s Mark,” the first guy says while extending his hand. He has a slight baby face that makes you pause.
“You’re a third year?” You ask, the shock protruding through your voice.
He slouches. “First year.”
“He already took all of the early math requirements before enrolling, so he’s taking all the classes with no prerequisites,” Jungwoo explains. Intro to Material Science was one of the few engineering classes with no prerequisites, but most people took it in their last two years since there weren’t many upper division classes that required it either.
“You must be smart, then,” you smile.
Mark mumbles something under his breath that you don’t catch.
You’re about to ask him to repeat when the second guy at the table extends his hand. “Jaehyun. In my last year.”
You gulp. Jaehyun is what you would typically describe as your type, down to his deep voice and strong features. You stammer through your name and year before opening your laptop in the desperate hope of concealing your brain short circuiting.
You feel Jungwoo’s stare as you stumble through your introduction. His eyes don’t leave your face, even as you’re pulling up the project description from the course website. When it starts to make it difficult for you to focus on what you’re reading at all, you whip your gaze over to meet his.
“Why do you keep staring at me?” You hiss at him as Mark and Jaehyun are engaged in some sort of conversation about music. “Do I have something on my face?”
“No.” His face is uncharacteristically blank.
“Then what?”
“Nothing,” he says, turning away.
It’s the most terse he’s ever been with you. Of all the times you’ve wished he would stop talking, of course he ignores you when you actually want him to speak on something.
For once, you’re the one taking hold of the conversation with your other two groupmates. You find out the three of them are actually old friends and that both Jaehyun and Mark are taking the class as part of a minor.
“Ah, I was wondering how I’d never met either of you before,” you say as you lean back in your chair. “Although, now that I think about it, I somehow haven’t met any of your friends outside of our engineering major—right, Jungwoo?”
“Yeah,” Jungwoo replies without glancing up. He’s typing on a slide titled Busy Dog Incorporated, which is supposedly the fake company name your group mates had settled on for the project. “Weird.”
Mark and Jaehyun exchange a look.
“He probably knows that we’d make him look bad in front of his engineering friends,” Jaehyun jokes.
You’re grateful to Jaehyun for saving you from a completely awkward atmosphere yet too intimidated to maintain eye contact with him. You look back down at your laptop with a nervous laugh. When you work up the courage to peek around at the group again, Jungwoo’s gaze is lasered back in on you.
His stare is so unexpectedly intense that it makes your heart jump in your chest. You’d always seen Jungwoo as a guy too chatty and goofy for his own good, but you’re taken aback by the seriousness in his eyes. Had you done something wrong?
You’re relieved when you hear the sound of zipping and shuffling as people start to leave, and you quickly follow suit. It’s only when you pack up your things that you realize your next class is specific to mechanical engineering students, which means you and Jungwoo will in fact be heading to the same destination.
Not wanting to be rude, you face Jaehyun and Mark. “It was nice meeting you both,” you say with a polite smile. “I’ll see you guys again next class?”
Jaehyun opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted as something hooks onto the top handle loop of your backpack. Your torso is lifted up and turned around in the complete opposite direction.
“Let’s go.” The tone in Jungwoo’s voice is back to normal in its casualness, but his grip on your bag is ironclad. “We’re gonna be late. See you guys!”
You barely have time to turn around with a final wave before Jungwoo marches you out of the lecture hall like a puppy being dragged by its scruff.
Outside of the room’s double doors, you tug yourself free. “Jeez, chill out. I can walk by myself, you know.”
“I was just making sure we left on time.” He shrugs. “You missed the first lecture for this class too, but he announced that we have a quiz for attendance at the beginning of class today.”
Your eye twitches in irritation. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
The two of you are sprinting across campus in the next instant.
He’s laughing and shouting absurdities into the wind, and you’re staring at him like he’s a crazed wild animal. Your mind struggles to compare his current hyperactiveness with the intensity from earlier. Did something happen? Why on earth was he being so weird today?
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
You look forward to your materials class with a cautious optimism about the possibility of developing new class friendships. Jaehyun had spoken to you easily, after all, and Mark seemed friendly enough. There was a lower chance of the conversation being swept away by Jungwoo’s charm, since they seemed to know each other well already.
When you scan the seats in the lecture hall and only find one empty seat next to Jungwoo himself, you feel your heart sink.
“Your friends couldn’t make it today?” You ask as casually as possible.
Jungwoo shrugs. “Mark had to study for another class, and Jaehyun had work.”
“He scheduled work during class?” Jaehyun seemed relatively laid back, but not that relaxed.
“This class is just for their minors, and attendance isn’t mandatory.” His eyes slide to yours. “Why? Did you need to talk to him?”
“I–no.” You trip on your own words. You were not about to admit that you had gotten excited about the mere prospect of class friends. “I was just curious.”
You figure their absences will vary like any other busy college student, but you’re proven wrong the next class when neither show face yet again. Or the next week.
It’s the strangest project dynamic yet. Sure, you hate randomly assigned group projects, but you also prefer that your groupmates show up. Both guys complete all their work on time and respond almost instantaneously in the group chat, which perplexes you even more. Since they were at your every beck and call virtually, they could very well just come to class.
You try to go around the attendance issue by using the group chat to schedule a casual project meetup outside of class. It’s giving them the benefit of the doubt, really. You’re outside the doors of the meeting place–your favorite cafe on campus–when your phone vibrates three times.
Jungwoo’s first. Just sat down :)
Mark’s message pops up next: Can’t make it today guys, I have to go back home this weekend :( Sorry about the last minute cancellation, lmk if I need to update anything on my side!
Jaehyun follows within the same minute: can’t make it either, had to pick up someone’s shift as a favor.
You throw the cafe door open and march inside. When Jungwoo waves from a table in the far corner, you change direction and stomp towards him.
“Did I do something to piss off your friends?”
“Uh, hi to you too—”
Your nostrils flare as you release your temper. “I’m being serious! Why are they being so flaky?”
“Hey, I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He throws his hands up. “Are they not coming anymore?”
You flip your phone around to display the group chat, too impatient to wait for him to take out his own phone.
He reads the messages before sighing. “I promise I didn’t know.”
“You really promise?”
“I didn’t!”
You glare and scan him for any trace of dishonesty. Nearly three years of group work together had exposed you to most of Jungwoo’s mannerisms, down to the minute changes in his facial expressions and body language. In this case, his wide eyes and frozen shoulders speak for themselves—he genuinely had no idea that they would cancel.
“Fine,” you sigh. “We can still go over what we need to. Let me order my drink first.”
“Oh,” Jungwoo gestures at the two drinks on the table. “I already got yours.”
You place your things down across from him and take a careful sip of the drink. The taste is familiar and pleasant—your favorite. “This is my order?”
His lips twitch upwards. “Yeah, I know. That’s why I ordered it.”
“How did you know which one to get?”
“Most of our group project meetings have been here or at other cafes across campus.” Jungwoo types away on his computer without looking up, but the tips of his ears redden at the line of questioning. “You get the same thing every time regardless of the place.”
He’s right. You typically don’t deviate away from your usual order, unless there’s a promotion that really catches your eye.
“Why didn’t you order any for Mark or Jaehyun?” You ask. “Before you knew they weren’t coming.”
“I’ve never gotten coffee with them,” he shrugs. “I don’t know their orders.”
You think out loud. “Do I know yours?”
He lowers his drink out of sight so that you can’t peek. “I don’t know, do you?”
Even though you posed the question, the answer comes out of your mouth naturally. “Iced Americano?”
Jungwoo smiles and raises the dark drink from below the table up to his lips. “I would’ve left if you got that wrong. You would’ve been the only group member left.”
You roll your eyes and call his bluff. “Liar. You don’t have the resolve to do something like that.” You open your own laptop and start clicking through the course website. “I’m telling you, all of this is a sign that we spend too much time together.”
A brief pause. When you glance upwards from your work, Jungwoo’s lips are curled upwards in a slight pout.
“I wouldn’t say that,” he says.
“I don’t think there’s been a single semester that we haven’t been paired together in some form,” you point out.
“Yeah, but it’s not like we see each other that much outside of class stuff,” he mutters. “So I wouldn’t say it’s too much time.”
His words make you pause. Being in the same major and projects had ingrained Jungwoo’s presence in your classes as a constant, but it’s only now that you realize how intertwined Jungwoo is in your daily life. You don’t remember when you had unconsciously memorized his drink order—let alone when you’d picked up the ability to read him so well based on the smallest habits and expressions.
On that topic, from the way he pouts and slouches in his seat, he’s clearly upset with you. When you think about it, he has been sulking much more than usual.
Despite his childish and borderline annoying behavior, you find yourself resisting the urge to lean across the table and smooth out the crinkle between his brows. His transparency is almost cute.
You shake yourself from the sudden thought. It must be the lack of sleep—you only slept three hours last night while cramming for tomorrow’s exam. You can begrudgingly accept that Jungwoo is the closest thing you have to a class friend, but seeing him as cute is so startling that you push it to the back of your mind.
Willing yourself to focus, you’re able to easily redirect the conversation toward the group project. Jungwoo participates with ease, but he never quite loses the slight pout in his expression. He’s like a deflating balloon, losing energy as the time moves on.
When you’re satisfied with your progress, you shut your laptop closed and stretch your arms overhead. “Looks good for now.”
“Nice,” Jungwoo yawns and mirrors your stretching. “Any other plans for today?”
“Probably just gonna go home, nap, then study more for our statics test tomorrow.” You feel a slight pang of guilt at not offering to study together, so you add, “I think that’s the plan, anyway. It’s also my roommate’s birthday, so I’m not sure if she wants to celebrate today or tomorrow.”
“Sheesh, glad I’m not you. You’re packed.”
The feeling of guilt dissipates immediately. Your eye twitches. “Thanks. I am well aware.”
He shrugs. “You’re smart, so you don’t have anything to worry about.”
“Uh, thanks?” Your heart jumps a little at the unexpected praise. Did he always compliment you this easily? It’s been a while since you’ve spent one-on-one time together outside of small partner work in class; you can’t remember what the dynamic is usually like with just the two of you.
If he senses your confusion, he doesn’t show it. “Don’t forget that we have that mini presentation Friday morning for Fluids. Should be easy, but I think we all still need to prep our slides.”
You wave him off as you’re both packing up your things. “Should be fine. Once I sit down and do it, I should be alright.”
Your chatter continues out of the coffee shop and towards the nearest bus stop. It’s a continuous train of thought between the two of you—upcoming events, complaining about professors, the whole works—and you’re still chatting until the campus bus passes on the opposite side of the street, signifying that it’ll make its final U-turn in a few minutes toward your stop.
You unzip your bag pocket to take out your transit card mid-vent. “That’s why I can’t stand working with Cathy on projects anymore. She’s so—wait, are you not getting on?”
Jungwoo looks amused. He reaches into his pocket and dangles his keys in front of you. “I drive myself now, remember?”
“What? You never told me that!” In previous years, you’d oftentimes run into him on the same bus line leaving campus. Depending on the timing of overlapped classes in your schedules, there were some semesters where the two of you would walk to the bus stop straight after class and sit together on the way home.
“I definitely did. Two weeks ago, when you were making googly eyes at Jaehyun–”
“I was not—wait,” you squint at him. “If you’re driving, why did you walk here with me?”
Jungwoo shrugs, sticking his hands back in his pockets. “It’s getting late.”
“So?” NCIT and its surrounding area was known as one of the safest college campuses.
“So, I didn’t want to make you walk and wait alone in the dark?”
“Very chivalrous,” you tease, “but not a very white knight thing for you to wait at the bus stop with me and then flex your new car without offering a ride.”
“And would you have let me give you a ride if I offered?”
“No.” You hated the feeling of being in debt to someone else’s good deeds.
“Right.” He rolls his eyes. “But yeah, I actually only walked you here just to brag about my car.”
“Obviously.”
The bus finally turns back around the corner, and there’s a sparkle in Jungwoo’s eyes that you don’t understand until a mischievous smirk spreads across his face.
“Well, for the record,” his voice lowers, “just text me if you need a lift. You can take a ride anytime.”
Your jaw drops, and you’re about to ask what the hell that means when you hear the bus doors open. The bus driver glares at the both of you.
“See ya!” Jungwoo’s voice is back to its chipper tone as you rush onto your bus.
You swipe through random apps on your phone in an attempt to look unaffected, but you still can’t resist peeking at Jungwoo’s waving figure until it disappears in the distance.
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
“He wants you so bad it’s embarrassing,” your roommate Lucy calls from the bathroom as she does her makeup.
“But I’ve never felt these…vibes from him before,” you frown from your place on the couch. You’ve put effort into tonight’s look, but Lucy always takes longer to get ready.
“Um, that’s wrong.” You can hear her eyes rolling from here. “I’ve been telling you that he’s been interested for years!”
“Okay, but your intuition sucks. You were wrong about that one barista, that guy from my writing class, Daniel–”
“I’m not immune to making mistakes, but you’d have to be blind to not see this one.”
“We’re not like that,” you insist as Lucy walks out into your shared living room.
“Yeah, yeah,” she rolls her eyes as she pours a round of four shots. “A socialable and cute guy in engineering gives you his undivided attention and bends to your every will? His one bad trait is that he's sometimes smarter than you? How horrible.”
You open your mouth to double down, unwilling to let the subject go, but the topic is cut short as there’s a knock at your door.
Lucy’s previous birthday celebrations had included tame activities such as group dinners or game nights. Drinking was never out of the question, exactly, but it was almost never the main focal point of the night. Lucy had decided to change course for this year, specifically requesting to go out to bars with her other close friends. You’d carpool with Marie and Jenny since they lived in the same apartment building, but the rest of the main group planned to meet up later.
“Is this your first time at college night?” Jenny asks with a smile during the Uber ride over.
“Unfortunately,” you grumble as Lucy whips around to glare at you. You’d successfully evaded attending college nights at your local bar—in general, you dislike running into people you know during nights out—and Lucy had taken it upon herself to weaponize her birthday as a way for you to break your soft boycott.
“You just hate drinking in public because you’re a drunk crier,” Lucy says with a smug smirk.
Jenny’s eyes widen. “You are?”
“I wouldn’t have guessed that,” Marie echoes.
“I’m not!” You insist.
“You’ll be fine,” Lucy says over the music. “There’s nothing happening at the bar that could possibly be tear-inducing anyway.”
Walking into the bar, the atmosphere itself immediately reminds you of why you generally stopped going out in the first place. The speakers are blasting with loud, bass-boosted music, you can barely see anything in the darkness, and, even if you could see anything, there’s so many people that it’s nearly impossible to move around.
“First round?” You manage to hear Lucy’s voice to your right.
“You’re lucky I love you,” you sigh as she tugs you along towards the bar.
Before you know it, the birthday girl herself has convinced you to take drink after drink until your head feels light and warm. You’re giggling and dancing with your girls without any pretenses, and your carefreeness relaxes even more when groups start to trickle out of the building. You can’t remember the last time you’d gone out and not felt any rush of social or academic anxiety ambush you.
When someone’s put it through your head that jello shots are somehow the next move, it’s your turn to wait at the bar until you can catch the bartender’s attention.
“I can help who’s next.” A familiar voice asks from just outside your field of vision. “What can I get you?”
You turn your head to lock eyes with a face you haven’t seen since the first week of classes. “Jaehyun?”
Jaehyun looks equal parts shocked and guilty. To his credit, he recovers quickly with a smile. “Been a while. Are you out with friends?”
Emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system, you cross your arms over your chest. “Um, yeah, it’s been a while—since you stopped showing up to all in-class and out-of-class group meetups.”
“Right.” He swallows, his smile turning more sheepish.
“I thought you picked up shifts during class? Unless this bar is open in the morning, too?”
That seems to give him more confidence. “Would you believe me if I said this is my second job?”
“I’ll believe you a little more if you give me a round on the house as an apology.”
Four free jello shots later, you return to your group with a victorious spring in your step. You’re feeling considerably less on top of the world, however, when the jello shot sends you just over the side of being too drunk. Lucy and the rest of the group have been there, as they’re overall more lightweight than yourself, leaving you to remain reliable through your own haze.
You’re not doing a great job, as you lose the other two after the DJ plays Gasolina, which leaves you to manage an incredibly intoxicated Lucy.
“Let’s get you water, then I’m calling the Uber. With or without those two,” you command as you try to lead Lucy from a table and back toward the bar. It’s an empty threat to try and get her to behave–you’d never leave them out to dry like that–but it has the opposite effect.
“I don’t wanna,” she whines as she refuses to budge. “We all have to go together.”
You use all of your restraint to refrain from shaking her by her shoulders. “If I promise to find them, will you stay here without moving?”
She nods wordlessly.
You take off towards the bar while swearing under your breath. You take a quick look around for the other two to no avail.
Luckily, Jaehyun’s the next available bartender again. You show a group picture to him on your phone. “Have you seen either of these girls?”
He squints at the screen. “They were here maybe a few minutes ago? Went back that way?” He points from the direction you came.
You groan. Of course you barely missed them. “Two waters, please.”
“Coming up,” he laughs. Jaehyun slides the two cups across the counter, but not before his eyes flicker to something over your shoulder. He grins. “Here to close out your tab?”
A voice sounds right near your ear. “Very funny, Jaehyun.”
Your neck snaps around so fast you think you may have given yourself whiplash. Sure enough, Jungwoo stands right behind you, his shocked expression mirroring your own.
“Hey?” He blinks, and his brown eyes roam over your face as if you’re an illusion that could disappear at any moment. He’s wearing jeans paired with a simple t-shirt and black jacket over the top. His hair is slicked back in a hairstyle that you’ve never seen on him before. In fact, under the dim bar lighting, Jungwoo looks like a completely different person.
It’s so different that your mind blanks, and out comes the first thing that your drunk brain thinks of.
“Are you stalking me?!”
He freezes, and you realize that, for once, you’ve rendered Kim Jungwoo speechless.
“That—that was supposed to be a joke. I meant,” you try to recover, “that I wasn’t expecting to see you here. It’s as if you were stalking me.”
Jaehyun doubles over with a deep roar of laughter, which makes your face heat in embarrassment.
Jungwoo clears his throat. “Jaehyun’s car is in the shop, so I’m picking him up from work. We live together. I know you said you might go out for your friend’s birthday on Thursday, but I didn’t realize it would be here. So no, I’m not stalking you.” Even in the low lights, a dusting of red is visible on his cheeks. “Are you drunk?”
“No,” you snap. You remember the two water cups on the bar and try to snatch at them, but you almost knock them both over in the process.
Jungwoo reaches over your arms and plucks up the cups before you can try again. “Where’s your group?”
“Over there,” you say with a small jerk of your head, “but I’m fine. I’m the most sober one, actually.”
That draws a laugh out of him. “I’m sure you are,” his smile warms your entire body. He nods to Jaehyun, who you’ve completely forgotten is behind the counter. “Does she have an open tab?”
“No. She blackmailed me for free drinks.”
“Free jello shots,” you can’t help but correct.
“She blackmailed me for free jello shots,” Jaehyun echoes with a pointed look at Jungwoo. The two seem to be having a silent conversation that you’re not privy to, which makes you all the more impatient.
You pry the water cups from Jungwoo’s hands while he’s distracted. “I can hold these, thanks.” Your drunk strength squeezes too much force on the right cup, causing some of the liquid to dribble over the edge.
“Good lord,” Jungwoo mutters. His hand moves to steady your elbows to support the drinks in your hands as he gently guides you back to your table. “Are you sure you don’t want to drink one for yourself? I think you should.”
“Nuh uh,” you say as you power through the crowd. “Not drunk.”
Miraculously, Lucy is sitting down obediently at the same place you’d left her, and the twins have magically popped up next to her. Lucy’s posture straightens immediately when she sees the two of you.
“Jungwoo’s here!” She points at him while shouting.
You nod, but the expression you shoot her screams For the love of god, please shut up.
Jungwoo pauses. “Have we met?”
Just through word of mouth. And your public instagram page, you think.
“Jungwoo, this is my roommate, Lucy.” You shove one cup of water into her hands and slide the other to be split by the twins. “Please drink these.”
Thankfully, she does as she’s told. It’s all going smoothly, and you’re one confirmation of payment away from calling the Uber when a waitress comes around with four shots on a tray.
“Happy birthday!” She sings with a dazzling smile.
You accept the drinks graciously to her face, only to whip around and unleash your fury on the group. “Who the hell ordered these?”
They all look away.
The beginnings of a headache thump behind your eyes. Despite the heat pooling in your cheeks and the slight dizziness buzzing around your head, you know what has to be done.
“Happy birthday,” you glare at Lucy as you place one shot in front of her.
Considering that you suspect at least one if not both twins just threw up in the bathroom, you don’t even consider giving either a shot. You are not willing to risk an Uber disaster tonight. Instead, you turn to Jungwoo with a stone cold expression.
“I need a favor.”
As if reading your mind, Jungwoo nods and slides a shot in front of himself. “I got you.”
That leaves the third. You want to take the last one—if anything, just to be courteous to Jungwoo, since he’s helping you out anyway—but your stomach lurches when you catch another whiff of alcohol. In the end, you and Jungwoo opt to split the last one in half. The first shot goes down smooth enough—or you’re so out of it that your sense of taste has completely checked out.
“Cheers,” you grimace as you pinch your nose and take half of the remaining shot. When you reach out to directly hand the shot glass over, Jungwoo pauses, his eyes darting between your lips and the rim of the glass.
“What is it?” You shout over the music, but your voice is too loud even to your own ears. “Take it!”
A faint pink flushes into his cheeks, but he does as you say. His nose wrinkles as he tilts his head back and drinks the remaining liquor. “It’ll be fun to feel the consequences of this during our presentation.”
“I doubt a shot and a half will affect you at all—” you cut yourself off as you process what he said.
Our presentation. Meaning, tomorrow morning's presentation. The same Friday presentation, you’re realizing, that you’ve completely forgotten to finish your designated slide for. Your heart drops to your ass.
It’s stupid. Logically, you know that one short presentation won’t tank your grade. However, coupled with your less than optimal first quiz score, it does make you feel like shit. You feel so terrible for leaving your group out to dry—what if they needed a good score to keep them from dropping down a grade?
“Don’t hate me,” you say sullenly, tears pricking at your eyes.
Jungwoo’s brow furrows. “Huh?”
You know you’re too drunk right now and you should think twice before airing out your insecurities, especially when you’d be airing them out to the classmate that consistently outperforms you. Even so, you can’t stop the single tear that betrays you by slipping down your face.
“Shit,” Jungwoo scrambles for a napkin, but your tears are too fast. He shifts to performing immediate damage control by wiping away at the tears with the pads of his thumbs instead. “Shh, no, everything’s okay. I could never hate you. Why are you crying?”
“I forgot to do my presentation slide for fluids,” you sob. “I totally forgot and now I’m gonna be too drunk to do it when I get home. I might still be drunk by the time I need to leave for class.”
A pause.
“Pfft.” He turns his head away and tries to cover his mouth so you can’t see him shaking with laughter. “Nerd.”
You shove at his arm. “Don’t laugh at me!”
“I’m not,” he deadpans, even as the lines of his face look considerably more relaxed. He dabs at your drying tears with his sleeve. “It’s almost three in the morning anyway, so it would’ve been pretty ambitious for you to try and sober up in time to actually complete it.”
That makes the tears come back in full force. “I’m sorry that I’m a bad group member!” Without thinking, you bury your face into Jungwoo’s shoulder as you cry.
You feel the muscles on his shoulder stiffen before they relax. One hand comes out to stroke the back of your head, while the other rubs small circles on your back.
“You’re not. You’re one of the smartest people I know.”
“You already said that the other day,” you hiccup.
You feel his chest rise and fall with a huff of laughter. “I wouldn’t just say that if I didn’t mean it, dummy. This presentation isn’t even a big deal. Your part is like two slides. You’re smart and a hard worker, so stop calling yourself a bad group member. I wouldn’t like…working with you so much otherwise.”
That’s enough to make your crying subside. When you finally pull away, he wipes again at the smeared makeup on your face.
“Don’t worry about your section of the presentation tomorrow. I’ll do it. Just stay home and I’ll tell our professor that you’re sick–which I have a feeling it won’t be a lie, so don’t argue with me right now. Does all of that sound okay?”
You nod with a sniffle. “Thank you. Really.”
The corners of his eyes soften. He reaches his hand to smooth out a rogue hair; this time, you catch his outstretched hand and lean your head into this open palm.
“Ah,” He turns his gaze away suddenly with a strangled cough. His face glows a bright red. “It looks like your friend’s Uber is here.”
Lucy stands at the bar entrance with a knowing smile on her face. The twins are sitting on the curb a few feet away outside of the bar, looking away. You hadn’t even noticed that the three had snuck out sometime during your conversation with Jungwoo.
Jungwoo still walks the short distance with you to meet her. Lucy holds back laughter as you both hover around the entryway.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” you say shyly.
“I better not—well, I mean that in the sense that you shouldn’t come to class in the morning.” His arm reaches to scratch the back of his head. “You know what I mean. Text me when you get home.”
“I will,” you laugh as Lucy tugs you away.
“I told you,” she brags with a smug grin plastered across her face. “You’re a drunk crier, and he’s down bad.”
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
When you wake up, the time on your alarm flashes back at you: 11:27am. Two and a half hours past your normal Friday morning class.
You squint and ignore the pounding in your head ignited by the light flooding from your phone’s display.
Your phone is flooded with message notifications, the oldest starting from Lucy at 2am last night and the most recent being seven messages from Jungwoo (intro to eng).
Heart racing, you click on Jungwoo’s chat first.
[8:15am]: morning :) hope you’re feeling ok
[8:16am]: in case you forgot, do NOT come to class today
[8:16am]: I already made ur slide
[8:16am]: so coming would just make it awkward for both of us
[9:15am]: presentation went well, I convinced prof to not require a makeup assignment for u
[9:25am]: lmk when you’re alive
[9:36am]: don’t forget to drink water :)
His messages draw a sleepy snort of laughter from you. He knew you so well — if you had the physical capability to wake up on time this morning, you probably would’ve tried to fill out your slide in a panic and charge over to lecture. Too bad you’d snoozed your alarm in your sleep. It was nice to know that he still had your back, even after drunk you had lowkey terrorized him.
I drank water when I got home, you text back, but someone should’ve told me to drink some at the bar.
The response is almost immediate. I did. You’re stubborn when you want to be.
You roll your eyes. And this is new?
Guess not. Are u planning on coming to materials lecture?
Your head pulses as you sit up in bed. For all intents and purposes, there’s no reason to push yourself to attend your Intro to Material Science lecture today. Jaehyun and Mark don’t show up anyway, and you know Jungwoo would cover you in case it was an issue.
Still, it’s the inexplicable giddiness in your chest that causes you to reply yep, see ya later.
A heart reaction appears over your message, leaving you humming as you tap on your chat with Lucy.
Immediately, your fingers freeze in place over the screen. Two images capture the latter half of last night. The first shows you walking toward the table with water cups in hand, Jungwoo spotting your back. All of that feels familiar; what does not is Jungwoo’s hands guiding you along, one hand on your right elbow and the other hovering close to your waist.
You’re sure that he didn’t touch your waist at all, but the angle of the camera misleads your eyes and makes your skin prickle as if he did. It sure looks like it.
The next picture captures your crying session at the tail end of the night. Jungwoo’s hands cradle your face to wipe away your tears. What you hadn’t been able to see through your waterworks, however, was his face as he looked at you. Startlingly, it’s an expression that you recognize on him — mouth curved upwards, eyes warm, and attention rapt on you. Even so, the softness lining his features triggers your heart to leap. If you were an outsider looking in, you’d describe it as tender.
Down bad, Lucy’s text says below the text.
You’re so shocked that you forget to dislike her message. You text back: what the fuck?
I’m talking about both of you btw, she replies, and you’re about to press her further when her last picture pops into the chat.
It’s still your crying session, mere moments after the first picture, but one glaring thing is different. Not only is Jungwoo’s back to the camera, but you’re the focal point of the lens. Your head leans into Jungwoo’s open palm, and you gaze up at him through thick lashes that look almost siren-like.
You nearly launch your phone across the room. You immediately exit out of the messages.
You refuse to allow yourself to dwell or over analyze it. You go through the motions of getting ready as usual and dart out of the apartment before Lucy can goad you further.
At materials lecture, Jungwoo keeps the seat next to him open for you, as always.
“Hey,” you say as you slide into the seat.
“Ah, hey,” Jungwoo ruffles through his bag and holds out a water bottle. “Need it?”
“Oh–I have one. Thanks, though.”
He slides it over anyway. “Eh, take it for later.”
“Are you sure?”
His eyes crinkle at the edges, and there’s a warmth in his eyes as he grins mischievously. “I think the odds of you needing it over me are higher.”
“Whatever.” Your voice sounds cool enough, but your heart betrays you by thundering away in your chest. The look in his eyes exactly mirrors his expression from Lucy’s photo last night.
He doesn’t pick up on your stiffness, instead leaning back in his chair and tapping the edge of his pen against his desk. “Professor Jang is pretty late today, no?”
As if on cue, other students collectively groan and start muttering amongst themselves. A few people get up first before the rest of the class begins to follow.
Jungwoo straightens in his seat. “Whoa, what’s happening?”
On intuition, you check your email. Sure enough, there’s a recent message from Professor Jang:
Hi MAT101,
Class will be cancelled today, as my kid is throwing up everywhere.
Thanks,
Jang
Sent From My iPhone.
“Ugh, we were all already here,” you groan, flashing the message over to Jungwoo. “And we have our next class after this.”
He nods and puts his things in his bag. “Want to check out some of the pop-ups around campus while we wait?”
“Sure,” you shrug. “There’s an event today?”
“Seemed like it, but no idea what it’s for,” he shrugs back. “Should be chill enough, I think.”
When the two of you stroll outside and turn towards the rows of booths, it immediately becomes apparent that things are not chill. The booths are covered with colors of pink, red, and white. Heart and cupid designs sprinkle the front of at least half.
“Uh, Jungwoo? What day is it?”
He taps his phone to turn on the display, and the resulting date confirms your suspicions: February 14th.
“How did I not even realize it’s Valentine’s day?” You ask yourself, massaging your temples.
“Well, you were in a pretty rough state last night,” Jungwoo offers.
You glare at him. “Gee, thanks.”
He nudges your shoulder. “Come on, let’s check it out anyway. It’s just a theme.”
He strolls towards each booth without a care in the world. You trail behind him, incredibly self-conscious. You wonder if, to the average passerby, the two of you look just like any other browsing couple.
And would you hate that?
You can’t think further into it, as Jungwoo calls out your name from the other end of a vendor tent. “Come look at these candles.”
The candles all look the same physically: pink wax within a heart shaped ceramic. It’s cute enough to pique your interest, and you hold one titled Slow Burn.
“Whoa,” you sniff again. The main scent is a light citrus, with other fruity notes that you can’t quite discern.
You hold the candle up to Jungwoo. “I’m smelling citrus and…mango?”
He leans in. “Definitely mango? Potentially passionfruit?”
You’re sold. You wait in the line, ready to purchase your candle, until you rustle through your bag and realize that you’ve forgotten your wallet at home.
“Ah shit,” you mutter. “I have to put this back.”
Jungwoo cocks his head. “Why? I thought you liked it.”
“I forgot my wallet,” you sigh. You’re one step out of the line when Jungwoo tugs at your arm.
“I’ll spot you,” he says while prying the item out of your hands.
You shake your head. “Please don’t, you’ve been too nice to me lately. I’m already too far deep in debt with all the favors you’ve done for me.”
“Well…” He ignores you, handing the candle back to the cashier. It ends up wrapped in a dainty white bag, which he holds out to you. “What’s another one?”
The cashier smiles at you both. “Please also feel free to take advantage of our photobooth over there. It’s free with the purchase.”
It’s one of those electronic photobooth cameras that sends the image to you directly; currently, there’s no takers, and all of the nearby props are still neatly organized on the display. Clearly, no one’s used it.
“Let’s go,” you whisper, but Jungwoo’s already at the display table rifling through the accessories.
He settles on a puppy ear headband before glancing over at where you’re standing with your mouth wide open. “Pick a prop!”
After overcoming your initial reluctance, you settle for a headband with hearts on it as well as a classic candy heart cutout that says Be Mine.
He’s already setting up the photobooth to send a copy to each of your emails. You fidget in the frame, trying not to look as awkward as you feel.
“Alright, let me start it…oh wait,” he leans back to the table to also grab a candy heart cutout. “Okay, now.”
Thankfully, it’s only set up for one picture; the camera flashes and you immediately receive an email notification: Access your Cupid Candle Photos Here.
You click the link as you both make your way to the main walkway. As expected, you’re both smiling at the camera with your headbands on.
What you don’t anticipate is that, next to your Be Mine cutout, Jungwoo’s reads I’m Yours.
Your feet ground in place.
You’re not an idiot completely unaware of your own feelings – you’re simply just good at ignoring and pushing them away for later – but no amount of compartmentalization can obscure the truth from these images literally staring you in the face and the butterflies frenzying within your stomach.
You have feelings for Kim Jungwoo.
In truth, you can’t even pinpoint exactly when they started. You know him so well that it doesn’t feel like a sudden fall head-over-heels. Like him, it’s steady and supported by a deep sense of respect and fondness.
That doesn’t make admitting it to yourself any easier. You’d fallen for him now, of all times, years later?
“Hey,” you feel a tug on your arm. Jungwoo’s eyes scan you with concern. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you lie. “Just felt a little dizzy.”
He frowns. “Give me your bag.”
He takes it before you can reply and doesn’t stop there. He pulls your arm so it loops into his, and the two of you continue towards your next lecture linked.
The close proximity does make you dizzy, and you cling to his arm in earnest.
You may not be able to say when you fell for him, but god are you in deep.
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
Something shifts. Your next few days are all filled with Jungwoo–walking to class together, grabbing meals, and texting during the times you’re not together. It almost alarms you to realize how easy it is with him.
You’re separated for what feels like the first time in days during one of your classes, where you’re randomly paired up with your classmate, Mina, to work together on an in-class problem. It goes by easily enough, although you can see Jungwoo sneaking peeks at you mid-assignment. He really has nothing to worry about, as both of you have been paired with smart people.
You and Mina end up being one of the first pairs to finish, turning in your papers and waiting at your desk for others to finish. You spin a pen around in your hand in boredom.
“Waiting for Jungwoo?” She asks.
You nod. “He’ll probably throw a fit if I leave before he’s done.”
“I meant to ask,” Mina whispers as if sharing a secret. “Are you and Jungwoo dating?”
“What?” Your pen spins out of your hand and over your shoulder. “No, we’re not dating!”
She raises an eyebrow. “Talking, then?”
Your mind races. Sure, in the literal sense, you see him during and after nearly every class, study together on the weekends, call him when you struggle with problem sets, and text him random things in the interim. But all that isn’t talking talking—right? Something definitely has felt different this week, but your newfound awareness of your own feelings muddle any objective clarity you had before.
“No,” you manage to rasp out. “We’re not.”
“Ah, damn.” Mina rests her head in her hands. “Some of us have been waiting for you guys to get together since first year.”
“Really?” Your voice comes out shrill.
“Yeah, you guys just seem to really get along and work together the best. Natural chemistry and all that.”
You laugh. “Oh, that’s interesting.”
“Would you, though?”
“Would I what?”
“Be interested in him at all,” she clarifies, leaning in.
You should laugh it off, lie, and leave it at that. You definitely don’t owe any of your classmates any information about your love life, but your nerves make you start blabbering whatever comes to mind.
“Yeah, that’s funny you say that, I really couldn’t stand Jungwoo for a while. In fact, he was picking on me so much that I was basically cursing his name every class because we always get matched to work together.”
“Uh…” Mina’s eyes widen.
“It probably seems like chemistry since I’m used to him being a weirdo around me all the time. So no, we’re not dating, and good luck to his future girlfriend, I guess—ow!” You cry as Mina kicks your shin.
“Shh,” she hisses.
You hear a cough behind you.
“You dropped your pen,” Jungwoo says with absolutely no trace of emotion on his face. He drops the pen onto the desk in front of you and turns to leave.
You’re out of your seat and running after him in a split second. When you catch up to him, you grab at his sweatshirt sleeve. “Jungwoo—!”
“Don’t,” he says as he tugs his sleeve out of your hands. “It’s fine. Really.”
“No, really–”
“Leave me alone, okay? Maybe I don’t want you around me all the time either, if we’re stuck together so much.”
You let him go. Later, you try to text and call him, but all of your messages bounce back. He’s absent from all of your shared classes despite the fact that he’s barely missed a single class within the entire time that you know him.
When you show up to your materials class the following Monday, Jaehyun and Mark are sitting in your usual spot. Jungwoo is nowhere to be found.
“Wow, look at who finally showed up in person. Welcome back,” you say flatly.
The two exchange a look that you don’t even care to interpret. You plop your bag on the ground next to Mark’s seat and start taking notes without another word.
When Professor Jang reaches the end of his powerpoint early and announces time for group work, you’re already packing your things up. There was no reason for you to be there; your project presentation was almost completely done, and Jungwoo was definitely ignoring you. You’d lost access to the shared docs last night anyway, so you can’t work on anything even if you tried. You don’t even know why the other two had finally bothered to show up.
“Wait,” Jaehyun says.
You turn to him in surprise – more for the fact that this is one of the few times you’ve heard him initiate, well, anything. “Yes?”
Jaehyun thinks for a moment before answering slowly. “Just give Jungwoo time. He just needs to sulk about it.”
That comment does little more than stoke the flames of your building irritation. He’d been talking to his friends about you?
“Well maybe I don’t want to talk to him either,” you spit out without caring about how childish you sound. “It’s fine, since we’re both sick of being paired together time after time.”
Jaehyun exhales in what you think is a laugh. “I don’t know what he said to you, but he definitely isn’t sick of that.”
Mark elbows Jaehyun in the ribs. “Dude!”
“Um.” Your eyes narrow. “What do you mean?”
“He’s just saying random stuff,” Mark babbles, but Jaehyun’s already talking over him.
“Do you know the odds of being randomly paired with the same person over and over again?”
“Uh, low?”
“For this class alone, you had a 3/199 chance, which would be around 1.5 percent likelihood. To calculate the probability of a second project in a similarly sized class and project group you would multiply 3/199 by 3/199, which would give you…” He types the numbers into a calculator. “...a 0.023 percent chance of being paired together in 2 independent projects.”
“...And?” You aren’t sure why Jaehyun is flexing his statistics skills right in front of you. Respectfully, you didn’t know he could do math like that.
“If the likelihood of being paired together in only one class is 1.5 percent, and the probability of being paired together in project after project only lowers each time…” He stares at you. “Do you really think that’s completely random?”
In the midst of his awkward delivery, that’s when you finally get it. There’s a flutter of hope in your chest that makes your heart race.
“How were groups chosen for this class?” You ask while barely containing your smile.
“Choose your own groups,” Jaehyun grins. “There was an uneven number since you were gone, so Professor Jang said there would need to be one group of three to take the missing person–”
“–and Jungwoo fought off anyone else trying to join our group!” Mark finally bursts in, unable to keep himself out of the conversation. “He told everyone else that your spot was already reserved.”
The verbal confirmation sends a wave of heat climbing up your neck. You clear your throat. “And how long am I supposed to wait for him to stop sulking?”
There’s a long pause as Jaehyun thinks. “Probably a week.” A mischievous grin spreads across his face. “But I have a way for you to speak with him sooner.”
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
Sooner turns out to be the following Wednesday. You pause in front of the door of the address Jaehyun sent you. Your hand shakes as you knock three times in succession.
The music inside goes silent, and there’s some shuffling on the other side for a few minutes before Mark pokes his head out of the doorway. His face relaxes when he sees you.
“Hey!” He swings the door open for you. “Sorry for the sudden silence. We thought you were Jungwoo at first.”
“All good,” you fake a smile and hope it’s convincing. “How have you been?”
You don’t really listen as Mark leads you through the house, and you fail to retain any names when he introduces you to new people here and there. You could figure it out later when you’re much less nervous.
Jaehyun turned out to be more conniving than you expected—he’d concocted this plan in lecture with you, detail-by-detail, although you were starting to get the sneaking suspicion that he had this in mind all along.
The main setting central to his plan: the surprise party. As his housemate, Jaehyun had already planned a surprise birthday party for Jungwoo with the rest of their friend group. What he hadn’t prefaced in advance was how overly male their friend group was, and you stick out like a sore thumb.
“He’s turning into the neighborhood,” a voice announces from the other side of the house.
”He’s gonna know immediately,” you hiss to Jaehyun as people start finding their hiding spots.
He gestures to the back of the room with a nod of his head. ”Follow me.”
There’s a couch toward the back of the room that faces away from the entrance. You plop down on the cushions. “I fail to see how this helps.”
“I’ll hide next to you, pop out, then leave. You’ll stay.”
”Okay?”
”I’m willing to bet that he won’t even think to walk over here,” Jaehyun explains, ever patient. “Let alone look at who’s sitting on the couch.”
It seems utterly ridiculous, but you’re not in a position to be arguing. This is his house and his plan, after all, and you didn’t have any other bright ideas of your own to begin with. Jungwoo’s made himself impossible to reach, and you’re desperate.
You hug your knees into your chest and press your back into the cushion. Jaehyun settles next to you facing the opposite direction.
The house is completely still as the lock jiggles and the door swings open. Everyone keeps their cool until you hear Jungwoo switch on the lights to the kitchen. Click.
“Surprise!” Everyone except you jumps up from their respective hiding places. You stay in place from your seat on the couch as Jaehyun floats back toward the front of the room.
Some of the other partygoers drift over to your side of the room and startle, shooting the occasional confused glance in your direction, but you don’t care. The ultimate goal is to catch him off guard after his inhibitions have been lowered.
The first step of Jaehyun’s plan unfolds: you hear someone yell “Shot!” accompanied by the mass pouring of cups followed by a group of cheers. The lights turn back off after the group shot, which makes it difficult to discern what happens next without potentially breaking your cover. You’re hiding out on the couch for at least twenty more minutes until you feel a tap on your shoulder.
“It’s been done,” Jaehyun plops down on the cushions next to you. “I think someone else might have roped him into a third and potentially fourth shot, though.”
Your head tilts. “He seems like he can hold his liquor decently enough, right?”
Jaehyun bursts out into a fit of deep laughter. “God, no. He was probably just trying to look cool in front of you. He ended up bugging me at the bar for at least an hour until he sobered up at the very end of my shift, and then I still ended up driving his car home–”
“Jaehyun!” You hear Jungwoo’s voice drawling over the crowd.
“Look, I should probably warn you…” Jaehyun ducks so that his head isn’t visible from behind the couch and lowers his tone so the music drowns out his words. “Jungwoo’s always funny, but when he drinks he gets a little–”
“Jaeeeehyuun!” A pair of arms fling from behind the couch to engulf Jaehyun into a loose hug. Jungwoo’s forehead buries into Jaehyun’s left shoulder. “Why are you hiding from me? Who are you talking to?”
Jungwoo’s head spins around to peek at you, his position on Jaehyun’s shoulder so close to you that your noses nearly brush each other. At point blank eye contact, you witness his brown eyes widen with recognition.
“Oh,” you whisper, afraid to break the tension. “Surprise?”
He jerks away, head bobbing between the two of you on the couch. “You brought her?”
Too late, you and Jaehyun both realize the assumption firing through his brain.
“Wait–” you start.
“Woos–” Jaehyun sighs as he stands up, but Jungwoo has already fled somewhere deep into the house.
The two of you shake your head at each other and move in unison without exchanging a single word. Jaehyun leads the way, knocking and peeking into rooms for signs of Jungwoo. The other attendees in the main room are relatively useless in the search, as they’re currently engaged in some sort of drinking game.
When you finally open the final bedroom door, Jungwoo looks up from the edge of the bed with a wide, shocked expression.
“Found you,” you joke softly as you let yourself inside.
You look at Jaehyun with raised eyebrows. You’ll take his word for whatever he says, at this point–after all, he seems much more familiar with the mannerisms of drunk Jungwoo when compared to you, but he simply shrugs and flashes a thumbs up at you.
“You got this,” he says before slipping out of the room.
Thanks a lot, Jaehyun, you think.
“Hey,” you say as you step forward. It’s ridiculous, the way you approach carefully like he’s a feral dog that might run away at any moment. Regardless, you’re able to slink up and settle next to him on the edge of the bed. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m fine.” He avoids eye contact. “Why are you here?”
You know that he’s been openly avoiding you, but the blunt question stings you nonetheless. “I was invited to your surprise party.”
“Jaehyun brought you as his date for my surprise birthday party,” he grumbles.
You shake your head. “Jaehyun invited me because you won’t show up to class, text me back, or answer my calls.”
Brief silence. “I’ve been busy.”
“Jungwoo, you blocked me on gmail. I can’t even access or edit our group presentation because you’re the owner.”
“I didn’t want you to see my cursor active on the shared doc,” he mutters.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. Of course you’d end up falling for a guy who could match your pettiness up to a T. With him, the best approach is to be as direct as possible.
“Jungwoo, please let me apologize.” You struggle to squeeze the words out. “I know why you’re ignoring me, and I definitely deserve it, but I miss you.”
That seems to catch him off guard enough that he forgets to evade eye contact. His gaze squints at you in open caution, but a glint of curiosity lies behind it. “…I’m not going to run away or anything.”
Doubtful, but you resist the urge to comment.
“I shouldn’t have said all of that to Mina,” you start, “and I didn’t really mean it in the first place.”
“...That’s kind of hard to believe, when you were willing to say all that to someone you don’t know as well,” he responds. The discomfort in his face makes your chest squeeze. You’re really feeling the worst, to be the one making him so obviously uneasy.
“I know, and I’m really sorry.” You fidget uncomfortably with the fabric of your clothes. “Look, in the past–I thought you were messing with me, like, all of the time. I was having a really hard time making friends, so I just redirected my frustration at you.”
He frowns. “I always considered you my friend.”
“I know.”
“I always tried to include you in conversations because I could tell you get nervous meeting new people.”
“God, I–yes, I realize that now,” you groan. “I didn’t even believe it anymore when I said that to her.”
“If you didn’t feel that way anymore, then why did you still say it?”
It’s a more than valid question, but he doesn’t realize the slippery slope it’s leading you down. “Well…she was asking a lot of nosy questions?”
His brows furrow. “About what? Our friendship?”
“About…” It’s so difficult to say what you want to–it’s like the words are caught in your chest, suspended in place. However, he deserves honesty from you, after everything you’ve said. “...whether or not we’re dating?”
“Oh,” his voice flattens. “And the idea is so ridiculous that you had to reassure her that you’d never date such an annoying guy?”
“No!”
“Then what?”
“God – can you let me speak for two sentences without interrupting?”
“I’m not interrupting! Just tell me what she said!”
“You just interrupted me again!” You shriek. “She asked me if I was interested in you, and I didn’t want Mina from ENG 150 to be the first one to find out I was!”
Jungwoo’s about to interrupt with another comeback when he finally processes your words. He freezes in place, eyes wide, and the tips of his ears turn a bright shade of red. “You’re what?”
“Interested in you,” you say unflinchingly, even though you can feel the heat rising to your own face. “I like you, Jungwoo. A lot.”
His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again. “Oh.”
You take the opportunity to scoot closer to him. Your hand grabs his. “I’m sorry that I said all of that to Mina. I didn’t mean it. I’ve only just been figuring out my feelings, and I didn’t know what to do with them. I totally freaked out.”
You’re patient as you let him sit through his thoughts. The expression on his face stays in shock, relaxes into slight confusion, and then eventually, to your surprise, twists into a smile.
“You like me,” he grins.
Your face burns. “I do.”
His smile widens. “Enough to crash my birthday party.”
“Ugh–yes.” You hide your face in your hands. “Telling you this today wasn’t in the plan, by the way.”
“Liking me was just that irresistible?”
You scoff. “Well, at least I wasn’t the one rigging all of the group project assignments.”
He jumps to his feet. “I’m going to kill Jaehyun–”
“Hey,” you yank him back down on the floor next to you. “Can you at least say it back to me before you fight your best friend?”
He looks away, but his thumb rubs absentmindedly at the top of your hand. “Isn’t it obvious?”
“By the way you trapped me as your project partner for three years? Yes,” you smile, “but I still want to hear it from you.”
“I just wanted an excuse to be close to you,” he pouts. There’s a slight pause as his eyes connect with yours. “I’ve liked you since the day we met. I thought my feelings would go away since you weren’t interested, but they never did. If anything, they got stronger.”
His vulnerability makes the mood shift. There’s something about his parted lips and the flush across his face that kicks your soft affection into sudden desire. You swallow thickly as your eyes slide down the length of his neck and on the exposed collarbone peeking through his disheveled shirt.
He whispers your name, which sends another volt of electricity down your spine. “What’s wrong?”
It’s the small, lingering trace of alcohol on his breath that snaps you back to your senses. You feel like a complete and utter pervert; the possibly most lightweight person you’ve ever met was clearly in a vulnerable position, and all you could think about was kissing him?
“Let’s get you back in the main room for some water,” you say gently as you begin to rise from the end of the bed.
His arms envelop you, slamming you both down on the bed. “Don’t go,” he whines.
The force of his hug alone has you laying on your back with Jungwoo’s arms around your waist, effectively anchored in place with his head resting on your stomach. You press your hands to your face, which feels flaming hot to the touch.
Despite your racing heartbeat, you manage to laugh. “I thought you were the one avoiding me.”
“We both know it wasn’t going to last long,” he mumbles. His mouth lies mere inches away from your stomach, his hot breath warming your skin through the fabric of your shirt. It sends a wave of heat through your body. “I just thought you hated me. And maybe liked Jaehyun more than me.”
You laugh again, but your heart melts. It takes all of your willpower to not get lost in the atmosphere. You allow yourself to run your hand through his hair, which is just as soft as you thought it would be. “Jungwoo?”
“Mmm?” His eyes close at your touch.
“Get up.”
He’s confused but finally follows your directions to sit up. Long lashes blink up at you expectantly.
“I don’t hate you,” you say through a suppressed grin. “And I certainly don’t like Jaehyun more than you.”
He grabs your hand from its position in his hair, holding it over his heart. “Promise?”
“Promise.” Knowing there’s a chance his memory might be muddled tomorrow, you add, “I wouldn’t remember just anyone’s coffee order, you know.”
Jungwoo lifts your hand and presses a kiss to the back. Then, his eyes lock onto yours, and suddenly he’s leaning in closer and closer–
You turn your face at the last minute so that he kisses your cheek instead.
“Not now,” you say firmly as you finally rise to your feet. “I don’t want our first kiss to be like this.”
“I don’t mind,” he grumbles, but he pulls his hands back into his lap.
“Well, you’re drunk. Off of maybe three shots of soju, may I add?”
“It was four, but I see your point.”
You pause. His pouting face is so endearing that you can’t fully resist; you lean forward and cup under his chin with both hands, pressing one kiss to his right cheek, left cheek, and finally his forehead.
“Happy birthday, Jungwoo,” you whisper against his skin. “Now let’s go.”
You lead Jungwoo by the hand out of the bedroom and through the main area of the house until you spot Jaehyun; you launch your drunk crush into his arms on sight. “Please take him.”
Jaehyun raises his eyebrows. “Went well?”
“We’re perfectly fine. He’s just a clingy monster when drunk.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Hey,” Jungwoo murmurs from Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Don’t get too friendly with her.”
Your face warms.
“I won’t.” Jaehyun smirks. “But don’t worry, Woos. I’m sure you’ll be very happy tomorrow.”
*.❤︎₊ ⊹
You wake up the next morning to a single text: Good morning
You laugh to yourself and repeat the sentiment back.
I want to see you, Jungwoo texts. Wanna get coffee?
An hour later you’re walking towards one of your favorite cafes on campus. Your heart quickens when you see Jungwoo waiting for you at the entrance.
Before you can even think about what to say, he interrupts first while holding a drink out to you. “Your usual.”
You crack a smile. “What if I wanted something different today?”
”You don’t.”
“Yeah, I don’t.”
His shoulders relax. “Would you be okay with just walking around?”
You nod and follow his lead. The two of you stroll down one of the many walkways, the rest of campus serene and still.
You break the silence first. “Not too hungover?”
”Well,” he grimaces. “I’ve had better days, but it could be worse.”
”I’m surprised you’re doing okay in the brightness, then.”
“Well, like I said, I wanted to see you.”
The honesty causes your face to feel hot. “I see.”
There’s another stretch of quiet. The two of you are in the engineering area of campus now, and you see a familiar building on your right.
“That’s where we had Intro to Engineering, right?” You ask.
He nods. “Sure is.”
You can’t bear beating around the bush anymore. “You actually liked me from the first day? This class?”
“This class.”
“You’re kidding.” You stiffen despite yourself. It feels like an entirely new thing to hear it again from sober Jungwoo’s mouth.
“Not kidding. I remember thinking you were the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground as he kicks a pebble down the trail. “I couldn’t believe my luck that we got paired together. Then I found out you were beautiful, smart, and funny.”
You find your gaze drawn to the ground now too. “It’s just a little hard to believe.”
From that first day of college, you’d never been the most secure in your identity, whether it be your looks, personality, or abilities. It always seemed like there was another student with better grades or better internships. Even three years later, you’ve never been able to fully shake off the desire to prove yourself. It’s almost too much to know that, this whole time, there had been someone seeing you and believing in your best potential.
You swallow thickly. How were you supposed to explain that, while he’d been seeing the best in you, you had returned the favor with a one sided grudge. “Jungwoo, I—“
“Don’t apologize.” His head raises sharply. “I know you thought I was annoying.”
“…a bit. And overachieving.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “‘A bit’ doesn’t seem like it would cover cursing my name every class.”
Hot shame flushes to your face. “I thought I believed that for a long time, but I was just jealous. Everything just came so easily to you—grades, friends, even our professors always liked you instantly. I felt like I worked my ass off just to barely have the grades to show for this entire program.” You take a deep breath. “So seeing you all the time just rubbed it in my face.”
“And I’m sure it helped to have me request you for almost every project?”
Your throat dries. “So you did do that.”
He shoots you a pointed look. “You said Jaehyun already told you.”
“Well, he alluded to it, but he wasn’t that specific. He kinda just guided me to put two and two together.” You don’t mention Mark exposing him for this semester’s class. You’re sure that the kid deals with enough from that friend group.
“I did.” The tips of his ears turn bright red, but he pushes through his embarrassment. “At first it was to catch your attention. When I realized you weren’t interested, I kept doing it because of your work ethic.”
That leaves you nearly speechless. “What?”
“Well,” he sniffs, “unlike some people here, I thought we were friends.”
“My work ethic,” you echo. “No other reason?”
He rubs the back of his head. “I guess I always told myself that I would go for it if you ever seemed interested, but that was it. I didn’t think you’d actually look at me like that, but–” he stops abruptly.
“...but?” You prompt him.
“And then you looked so starry eyed with Jaehyun that it pissed me off enough to start aggressively flirting with you.”
“I wasn’t—ugh, whatever. You won’t believe me.”
”I won’t.” He smiles, but it’s genuine.
“I’m glad you did, though,” you admit, “or else I probably never would’ve gotten my head out of my ass.”
”When did you realize that you liked me?”
”I honestly don’t know,” you admit. “You crept up on me.”
He hums, but it doesn’t seem to surprise him.
You turn back around suddenly, walking down the path until you’re in front of the building of your first ever class. The same lecture hall that you met in.
This will look so stupid if the door isn’t unlocked, you think, but the door slides open without resistance.
The lights turn on from your movement. Jungwoo slips in behind you. “What are you doing?”
You spot your unassigned assigned seat, right on the end of one of the middle aisles. You climb up the steps until you reach it and seat yourself.
Jungwoo stares at you from the bottom of the steps before catching the hint and settling next to you. “Feeling nostalgic?”
“Yeah,” you say, resting your elbows on the surface. “It’s just crazy that the first day started everything with us.”
“Yeah,” he agrees.
You hold his gaze and smile, leaning forward, but he stays fixed in place looking at you.
”Um,” you say finally. “Are you going to kiss me now?”
“Here?” Conflict crosses his face. “Isn’t it a little…”
“Sentimental?”
“Musty.”
You roll your eyes. “Fine, we don’t have to—"
You’re cut off as Jungwoo tilts your chin with this hand and leans forward to press his lips to yours. Your lips push and pull in slow, languid motions; even through his lips and hand cradling your face, he touches you with intention.
“I wanted to kiss you somewhere romantic,” he huffs when you pull away. “On a real date.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you say, pressing a peck to his cheek. “Next time.”
Lee Jeno fic recs
Glitter | F - @kyufessions
you walk in on your daughter giving your fiancé a makeover
All night long | F - @writemekpop
You’re pregnant, and the baby’s kicking makes it impossible to sleep. Luckily, Jeno knows just how to take care of you.
Cold BF jeno who only acts close to his GF | F - @vanesycho
Swiped | F - @strrykais
accidentally swiping right may not be as bad as you originally thought.. 🤔
FWB/Situationship with Biker!Jeno | F,A - @doively
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
Crush culture | F,A - @lulujeno
liking jeno was a mistake. kissing him didn't make it any better.
BF Jeno in your camera roll | F - @angeliqueiguess
1-800-hot-n-fun | F - @strrykais
you couldn’t help but to continue to text your boyfriend who passed, so when his old number finally gets used, lee jeno can’t help but want you to continue to text him to help.
For now and always | F,A? - @jenosonlywife23
Your wounds wrapped with my love | F,A - @slytherinshua
Hold my heart keep it safe | A - @slytherinshua
11:00Pm | F - @iovjun
7:19pm | F,A? - @gyeomsweetgyeom
6:17pm | F - @taurusdaylight
Unspoken feelings | A? - @kiszjuli
Jeno gets in a fight at a dorm party because he just can’t stand hearing the way those jerks talk about you. he ends up right at your dorm reluctant to share the reason. the words he exits with leave the already brewing tension between you two even stronger.
Pouting rights | F - @jenosonlywife23
Fatherhood | F - @featjunranghae
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
when jeno's girlfriend left him to deal with fatherhood alone. he decided he'd never let anyone in his or his daughter's life. that was until he met you. his neighbour whom his daughter seemed to love way too much
When the candles burn out | F,SG? - @daegall
Jeno Lee has everything he's wished for, except for you.
Flying kiss | F,S - @withlovemark
you and lee jeno go way back, as in diapers and all that. before he was known as the chill fuckboy, he was an all time nerd! just like you! tired of being a loser who can’t even get the guy you wanted, you badly needed tips and a makeover. who’s better to ask for help than your childhood best friend, who has proven that a nerd can be hot?
No pain, No gain | F - @rhaeverie
Jeno’s well aware that he looks like an idiot in front of you, but what else could he do when just the sight of you makes him feel like a kid with a schoolboy crush?; or in which, Jeno’s been coming to your office with the tiniest of scratches just so he has an excuse to see you
Pictures you've taken of your boyfriend, Jeno | F - @catboyieejeno
Traitor | A,F - @angstama
some dresses aren’t made for walking down the aisle—some are made to let go.
Jeno is the best doctor for your daughter | F - @nebularsung
Spaces between us | A,F - @angstama
three years after divorcing jeno, you've found a careful rhythm in co-parenting your son jun. the old fights about his work schedule and emotional distance have faded into polite exchanges and shared custody arrangements. but when small moments of connection start to feel like second chances, you begin to hope that maybe you could try again. though, it all falls apart when jeno asks to introduce jun to his new girlfriend. suddenly, you're forced to confront a devastating truth: the man who claimed he "wasn't good at relationships" during your marriage has apparently learned how to love properly—he just needed someone else to do it with.
[newly added!] Soul ties | F - @mysnoopyvalentine
Born with the ability to see ghosts, you’ve spent your days guiding lost souls to the afterlife. This time around, however, everything taught to you is flipped on its head when a ghost finds you first. Polite, kind, and mysteriously tied to your side, Jeno remembers little more than his name–and the fact that he’s not dead. At least, not yet.
moonlit memories
kim jungwoo x reader | kim doyoung x reader
a/n (please read!): this is a prequel to my other work sunkissed secrets (jungwoo x reader)!! technically both can be read independently, but together this prequel gives more context to the full story :) moonlit memories takes place 7 years before the events of sunkissed secrets.
summary:
After months of pining for Doyoung, you finally resolve to let your feelings go with his graduation—until a few too many drinks spill your true feelings. Always there to pick up the pieces, Jungwoo isn't expecting anything more than another stumble home—until your drunken honesty allows him a rare glimpse into your heart. Did he ever truly stand a chance?
word count: 6.9k
genre: hurt/comfort, angst, college AU, unrequited love, friendzoned!Jungwoo, gn!reader
warnings: swearing, drinking/partying, mentions of smoking
playlist: goodnight n go (ariana grande) | sadalight (kyle dion) | moonlight (dhruv) | anesthetic (evan pak)
One of these days, friendzone be damned, you were going to get Kim Doyoung to notice you.
Although tonight, at Doyoung’s birthday party surrounded by his entire friend group, it’s going to be nearly impossible. While you know Doyoung, Johnny, and Yuta well due to your club’s mentorship program, you were much less acquainted with their friends outside of the club itself.
“Remind me,” one of Doyoung’s friends–you forgot his name within the first five minutes–leans over as he takes a swig of his beer. “How do you know Doyoung again?”
“Same club as those guys,” you nod to Johnny and Yuta at the other end of the table. You see a flicker of confusion on the guy’s face, probably since you don’t look like a senior, so you add: “Doyoung’s my mentor.”
“Ah, I got it,” he leans back with a grin. “‘Big bro’ type of situation. That’s sweet of him to include you, still.”
“Yeah,” you say through gritted teeth. You take a long swig of your drink to mask your awkwardness. “Really sweet.”
As if on cue, Doyoung rescues you from the conversation. “Hey mentee, I actually have someone I want you to meet,” he gestures towards the other side of the room while tugging you along. “Over here.”
“Great,” you mutter, but you offer no resistance. The mere touch of his hands warming your skin is enough to send your heart cartwheeling. At least any change in your expression is mostly masked by the dim lights of the karaoke room.
“Nice to meet you,” a voice says. A hand extends out towards you. “My name is Jungwoo.”
You tear your attention away from Doyoung and blink at the guy in front of you. From what you can tell, he’s definitely younger than Doyoung and the others–probably around your age. He’s tall, and even under his baseball cap you can tell that he has a cute face framed by dark hair.
You meet his hand with yours and say your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“Jungwoo’s your year,” Doyoung chirps. “He’s Yuta’s mentee.”
“Oh!” You relax. You trust Yuta’s taste in people. “He always talks about you.”
“Oh, really?” Jungwoo’s voice is relaxed, but his ears flush red.
You smile as you hold back laughter. “Yeah. He mentioned that his mentees are too busy nowadays, which is why we hadn’t met yet.”
“Right.” Jungwoo rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I can probably carve out more time this semester, since it seems like there’s more reason for me to go.”
You’re about to ask him what reasons he has–this semester has been the slowest ever–but you glance to the now-open space next to you and frown. “Doyoung ditched us already?”
You both do a quick scan about the room; Doyoung is now in an intense duet with Johnny. You roll your eyes. At least Jungwoo seems social enough.
As you chat with him more, you realize that your assessment of him is correct. Jungwoo’s not just social – he’s chatty and funny. You’re much better off than you were before, since he seems to know almost everyone in the room.
“Thank god,” you say to him aside from the others. “I only know people from the club, and they’re all over there. I was in trouble for a while.”
“Happy to help,” Jungwoo’s smile is warm. “Doyoung and I went to the same high school, so it’s no big deal.”
That detail makes your ears perk up. Your inhibitions lowered entirely, you can’t resist nor reign back the eagerness in your voice. “Really? What was he like?”
He hesitates; Jungwoo’s eyes roam over your face. For a moment, he looks like he’s at a loss for words. Then, he shakes himself out of it. “The same, really. Nice to all while being completely dense to his secret admirers.”
Your face feels red-hot. “I didn’t mean it like that–”
“Jungwoo!” Doyoung calls out, shoving a microphone in his hands. “You haven’t gone yet. Pick a song!”
Jungwoo obliges and picks a song.
You gasp as the title displays on the screen. “Sunday Morning? I was going to sing that!”
He raises an eyebrow. “Wanna see who can do it better?”
It’s the start of a long karaoke battle – you and Jungwoo choose song after song in an attempt to score higher than the other. It gets so competitive that you start keeping track via the notes app in your phone, and people start betting on the overall winner.
It’s intense, incredibly childish, and fueled by the others pumping you with drinks. By the time you reach the final song selection of the challenge, you’re singing with your eyes completely closed – not for the purpose of an extra challenge, but simply because you can’t keep them open anymore.
You belt out the last note with gusto. Panting, you open your eyes, and the bright screen lights make your eyes water.
Score: 100
“Take that!” You yell with a laugh while spinning. You stop in your tracks just as quickly.
The first issue: Jungwoo’s body spreads out over the couch, his head rolled back and body rising up and down as he lightly snores.
The second issue: Aside from Jungwoo dozing off, there is nobody else in the room. You take a look around – no phones, wallets, or purses in sight. There’s a signed receipt at the front of the room timestamped for thirty minutes ago.
You crawl to Jungwoo’s side, shaking him. “Jungwoo! Wake up!”
He groans before blinking up at you, confused. “What? Where are we?” He sits up quickly. “How long have we been here?!”
You put all of your focus into keeping your words coherent. “Uh–they left us. I think. The receipt is in the front.”
He squints through the party lights. “Any texts?”
You unlock your phone. There is in fact one text each from both Johnny and Doyoung.
“Johnny says Sorry. Doyoung insisted,” you read aloud.
“Anything from Doyoung?”
“Use this time to get to know Jungwoo. He’s a nice guy.” You sink down and cradle your head in your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”
Jungwoo hiccups. “It’s so embarrassing because I’m a nice guy?”
“Not that. He’s totally setting us up!” Your mind races. All of the gestures and signals you thought you’ve been sending him, and that results in him trying to set you up with a stranger? Was he just dense, or do you really have no appeal to him at all?
“So…” Jungwoo says after watching your expression twist amidst your silent spiral. “You like him, don’t you?”
You look away, humiliated. “I might.”
He releases a sharp laugh. “This is pretty embarrassing for both of us, then. Let’s go.”
He says it as a firm command, but he immediately stumbles over after standing. Jungwoo tries again, only to sway and lean most of his weight on the couch.
“Jungwoo…” you say, shocked. “Are you a lightweight?”
“They gave us a lot!” He protests.
“Sure, but they gave me a lot more since I got here before you,” you point out. “I feel like you’re more drunk than I am.”
“I’m not drunk. Watch.” Jungwoo stands up and walks towards the door, but he trips over part of the couch and topples to the floor.
“Shit!” You rush to his side. “Are you okay?”
“I would’ve made it if the door wasn’t spinning,” he says from the floor.
You help him to his feet. “Alright, we have to improvise. Get on my back.”
“Excuse me?” He says. “There’s no way you can carry me home.”
“I’ll carry you just to the taxi, dummy,” you say, draping Jungwoo arm over your shoulder to take some of his weight. “You’ll have to take it from there.”
“Do you know me well enough to call me a dummy?” Jungwoo grumbles in your ear.
“I do now,” you laugh. Despite your frustration at Doyoung’s actions, you feel surprisingly light. “For the purposes of tonight, we’re now stuck together.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
What you hadn’t anticipated, that night, was that you and Jungwoo would quickly become inseparable friends, trauma bonded by that night out together. You were sworn to secrecy about his lack of tolerance for alcohol, and he was sworn to secrecy about your crush on Doyoung. The two of you were always together in and outside of club activities–which he did end up coming to more, for reasons still unknown.
Which is why, the week before Doyoung’s graduation, you decide to tell him first.
"It's time," you announce to Jungwoo. "I'm going to get over Doyoung."
Jungwoo chokes mid-sip of his iced coffee. You pat his back as he falls into a coughing fit.
“Warn me next time!” He says through a teary glare.
“Sorry,” you shrug, only a little sheepish. “I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”
He eyes you up and down. “Did something happen? What’s with the sudden decision?”
“I think it’s just…time,” you say.
“Is there someone else?” Jungwoo seems uncertain even as he asks it, and he doesn’t quite look you in the eye.
“No. It’s just time,” your smile is sad. “He’s about to graduate, and I need to move on with my life.”
Jungwoo takes a long sip of his coffee before speaking again. “Are you going to tell him?”
You shake your head. “There’s no use. I know he just doesn’t see me like that, so telling him would just make things awkward. It’s better for both of us if I just move on quietly. After tonight.”
Somewhere past your words, deep down, it does devastate you to know that you’re better off not telling him. The same reasons why you like Doyoung in the first place – his kindness, consideration of others, and insistence on protecting you – would be the same reasons why your confession would upset the delicate balance of your relationship forever.
Jungwoo watches the emotions pass over your face without comment. “Whatever you want to do,” he says. “I’ll be there for you, no matter what you end up choosing.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
“I brought some more beer!” You call out as you walk through the door.
“Oh shit—hey!” Johnny’s standing on a chair holding one end of a banner that says CONGRATS GRAD in gold lettering. “Put them on the counter. I’ll find a place for them later.”
You do as you’re told, passing by your friends towards the kitchen.
“You didn’t have to come this early,” Jungwoo says from his place at the other end of the banner. He raises an eyebrow at you.
You know that look, and you choose to pointedly ignore it. “I am doing my part as a friend that’s not graduating this year, thank you. Johnny shouldn’t even be setting up—isn’t this a surprise party for all the seniors?”
“I’m graduating a semester after everyone, so technically this is just for Yuta and Doyoung,” Johnny shrugs. “I doubt anyone will mind getting together again in six months to celebrate mine.”
“Fair enough,” you say as you start clearing their dining table.
When Johnny takes a minute in his room and is finally out of earshot, Jungwoo leans his chin into the palm of his hand as he stares at you. “Doing your part as Doyoung’s dedicated friend, huh? What happened to getting over him?”
“After tonight I’m getting over him,” you correct. “Therefore, I have approximately eight more hours until it’s really over.”
He looks at you for a long moment before sighing. “Fine. Just be careful.”
"It’s just our friend group.” You tilt your head. “What's there to be careful of?”
-
“They’re here!” Johnny hisses. Everyone dives behind the first piece of furniture they can find or duck behind walls.
You hide behind the kitchen counter next to Jungwoo. He pokes your shoulder playfully, which prompts you to swat at him like a bug.
The lock on the front door clicks, and there’s a creak followed by shuffled footsteps as the two guests of honor presumably step in.
You hear Doyoung first: “Whoa—so dark.”
Everyone takes the instant as their cue, jumping out of their hiding spots. You and Jungwoo leap up as if synchronized.
“SURPRISE!” Everyone yells in unison.
Yuta flinches in surprise, but Doyoung’s reaction is by far the funniest; his eyes widen and his jaw drops completely open.
Everyone laughs as they take videos of their reactions. You follow suit, pulling out your phone to take a few pics. You smile as you get a perfect picture of Doyoung in the frame.
You pocket your phone, only to catch Jungwoo looking away while shaking his head.
It only takes an hour for things to devolve into chaos. The mission for tonight is clear for all attendees: get Doyoung and Yuta as drunk as possible. Yuta’s able to fend off most requests by stepping out to smoke with Johnny and some others, but Doyoung’s left to pick up the remaining slack.
All of that is somewhat expected. What you didn’t anticipate, however, is that Doyoung would assign you as his unofficial drinking buddy.
“Mentee!” Doyoung drapes an arm around you. “Take this drink for me!”
You gingerly remove his arm from your shoulders. “I think people are intending these drinks for you. You know, for your graduation.”
“Fine,” he grumbles. “Take a drink with me then? Please, so I’m not alone?”
It’s his proximity and the lingering scent of his cologne–crisp like fresh linens–that scrambles your thoughts and elicits the kneejerk response of “Sure!”
It doesn’t stop at one. Soon, Doyoung has you downing shot after shot on the basis of friendship. Thankfully, you’d lost Doyoung after the last shot, granting you a small reprieve from the drinking.
Your cheeks flush, and your head feels so heavy that you find a place to sit on the floor and hang your head forward. When did it get so hot in here?
“Hey,” a voice says above you.
You ignore it, figuring it’s intended for someone else.
“Hey,” it says again. This time, something cold presses into the back of your neck. You flinch and whip your head upwards to look at the offender.
“That’s cold, Woos,” you glare up at him.
“Just checking for proof of life,” he shrugs before handing you a water bottle. “Drink this.”
The cold water provides such a relief that you gulp it down greedily. You gasp for air when you finish. “Thanks.”
Jungwoo stares at you. “…Alright then. I’ll get you another one?”
“Yes, please.”
“You got it.” He pauses. “No more drinking, okay? Say no if Doyoung asks you again.”
You don’t know how Jungwoo knows about Doyoung’s peer pressure, but it’s probably for the best. “Okay.”
“Like, I really don’t think you should drink anything else.”
You shoot him a thumbs up for good measure. “I won’t.”
Despite his good intentions, you feel a flash of irritation. Sometimes Jungwoo’s check-ins lean on the side of being too much — sure, you have terrible luck, but you’re an adult, not a child to be doted on.
As if on cue, your luck runs out. You linger in your spot too long without noticing the cups being set up, and before you know it hands are lifting you up onto your feet.
“Rage cage,” Johnny explains with an apologetic smile. “Your presence has been requested.”
Your head spins, and you clutch onto Johnny’s hand. You’re sure your grip must be crushing his bones, but you’re incapable of steadying yourself otherwise.
“Jungwoo isn’t going to like this,” you mumble under your breath.
Johnny tilts his head closer to listen. “What was that?”
“Jungwoo said I shouldn’t drink anymore,” you say louder.
“Oh?” He asks with raised eyebrows. “Sure, doesn’t make a difference to me. You should probably tell Doyoung you aren’t playing though; he hasn’t shut up about getting all of his mentees there.”
Your chest constricts. Of course he wasn’t asking for you, specifically.
As it turns out, there’s no way for you to really talk to Doyoung about backing out. By the time you and Johnny approach the table, the rules are being explained to the entire group. Doyoung is at the opposite end of the table, and he’s too busy messing around with his friends immediately next to him.
“Guess I’m playing at least one game,” you exhale.
“I’ll be nice and go to your left,” Johnny says as he slides to your other side. “You’re welcome.”
You roll your eyes. At the same time, the cups start moving on each side of the table. The group quickly devolves into yelling and shouting as people are missing the shot, making the shot, and stacking on their neighbor when they outpace them. It’s a game that you always merely survive in–really, you never fully remember the rules until halfway through the game–but you’re doing pretty decently this time around.
“Huh,” you say to Johnny as you watch the cups travel to the other side. “I’m doing way better than usual.”
The next day, you’d be convinced those words are what doomed the rest of your night.
The first misfortune begins when Jaehyun, who’d been playing half-heartedly with his phone in his hand, leaves the game with a shrug. That leaves Ten to your right hand side.
“You’ll go easy on me, right, Ten?” You ask nervously.
“Nope,” Ten says, popping the p sound. “You have to keep up.”
In Ten’s typical fashion, he means what he says. His competitive nature leaves no prisoners.
You’re sure everyone in the game is thinking the same thing as you: I don’t want the bitch cup. You’ve never felt more determined and focused.
“Where the hell did this skill come from?” Johnny laughs after both of you pass your turns with ease. “I’ve never seen you play so well.”
“I am not drinking whatever the hell is in that,” you say as you point to the bitch cup.
“I think it’s beer, seltzer, and maybe whisky this time,” he muses. “But it looks like you’re off the hook today. They got Doyoung.”
You glance up. Not only is just the bitch cup left, but Doyoung’s currently struggling to bounce the ball into the taller stack of twenty red solo cups. The guy to Doyoung’s right sinks his ball into a single cup easily, and he slams his cup into Doyoung’s stack with a roar.
You sigh in relief. Then, you and Johnny wince while watching Doyoung chug the bitch cup with his eyes closed. It’s painful to watch, but he does it.
As soon as he drops the cup, he begins to sway back and forth slowly. You and Johnny rush to his side in an instant, both of you taking an arm to hold him up.
“It’s hot in here,” Doyoung complains. His cheeks are flushed in a deep red.
“We can step outside,” Johnny says, taking the lead toward the back of the living room. The couch is positioned in front of a large curtain covering the sliding glass door to the outside balcony–a precaution for whenever they throw parties–but Johnny simply tugs the couch outwards and pulls the curtain back to open the door.
The cold air from outside wooshes against your skin, which makes you shudder. Regardless, you press on and follow your friends outside.
Johnny sits Doyoung in one of the chairs outside. You settle in the chair next to him.
“Feel better out here?” Johnny asks.
Doyoung grunts in something that sounds close enough to assent. His head slumps back as he closes his eyes.
“Hmm,” Johnny rises to his feet. “Hold on, I’ll be right back–can you just watch him for a bit?”
You jump. “Me?”
“Who else?” He snorts. “Think you got it?”
Your own head still feels light and dizzy. Despite not being the victim of the bitch cup (thanks, Doyoung), Ten’s lack of mercy had still left you worse for wear.
Even so, you want to be helpful. You straighten your posture and harness all your focus into looking directly into Johnny’s eyes with a reassuring smile. “Right. I got it, don’t worry.”
He nods and steps back inside.
Doyoung groans and peeks with one eye. “Where’d Johnny go?”
“Inside for a little. He’ll be back.”
“Nice.” He shoots a tired smile at you. His voice comes out a little bit hoarse. “Thanks for staying out here with me. And coming tonight, in general.”
In the moonlight, Doyoung’s smooth skin and slightly tousled hair look almost otherworldly. He leans completely back in his chair, hand pushing back his hair from his forehead as his breaths come out a little heavy.
“Uh.” Your breath catches. “It’s no problem, really. It’s your graduation, so of course I came.”
He looks at you through half-lidded eyes as he processes your words. Then, he smiles. “Of course.”
Despite the lack of contact, your nerves feel like they’re on fire. You’re on the edge of your seat, trying to keep yourself from fidgeting too much.
Doyoung doesn’t seem to notice your restlessness; on the contrary, he leans his head back again and closes his eyes. “I’m just going to rest my eyes,” he mumbles.
You watch in fond amusement as his “rest” extends for minutes.
“Cute,” you say to yourself, but then you cover your own mouth. You search Doyoung’s face for any sign of consciousness, but he looks the same.
Thank god, you think.
Really, there’s a part of you that almost wishes that he was awake to hear it. As much as your fear of ruining your friendship has held you back from any confession, sometimes it’s too much to bear.
You look at his face. Doyoung’s features are completely relaxed. Serene and beautiful.
You sigh. This is precisely why you’d planned to get over him. You can’t afford to let your feelings for Doyoung consume you any longer. You have no reason to believe that he would ever see you as anything more than a friend. In some ways, it’s worse–you’re his mentee. Someone that he sees as needing his care and guidance, rather than an equal.
You know that you decided to simply move on without possibility of conflict, but the alcohol in your system spurs you to take your action, however small. Sure, you’d planned not to tell him at all, but would this really count?
You lean forward in your seat, examining his breathing. It’s steady and deep–he must be asleep. You’d better do this soon before Johnny comes back.
“I never thought I’d tell you this,” you say into the open air. Despite your lack of active audience, your voice shakes. “I like you, Doyoung. I’ve liked you ever since I met you.”
To your own surprise, tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You blink until the urge passes. “I’ve never seen you as just my mentor. I’ve always wanted to be something more, and I like you so much that it hurts.”
The release hurts more than you expected. It’s a deep ache in your chest, but you smile in spite of the bittersweetness. “That’s all. Thank you for teaching me that I could feel this way about someone.”
I should probably find Johnny, you think. You exhale deeply and rise, tiptoeing in front of Doyoung’s chair to get to the door.
“Wait.” A hand grabs your wrist.
You freeze, and a chill drops through your body. You turn slowly toward Doyoung, who’s holding your wrist in his grip. His eyes are wide and resolute–completely alert.
“I–what–” your words come out in disconnected chokes. “You were sleeping.”
“I wasn’t.” He winces. “I was really just resting my eyes.”
“Oh.”
Time passes impossibly slow. The silence is so deafening that you can hear a mosquito buzzing around your head along with the faint bass bumping inside. Neither of you move.
Doyoung starts by saying your name. “I–”
“Can you pretend you didn’t hear any of that?”
“What?” Doyoung’s taken aback. “But I did.”
You refuse to turn your body to face him. “You could pretend you didn’t.”
“You know I can’t do that.” His voice is so soft that your heart pangs. He tugs at your wrist again. “Please sit back down.”
This time, you move. You tear your wrist from his grip and sit facing him. Your body feels numb, but you don’t know whether that’s due to the cold, the alcohol still coursing through your system, or the shock alone.
“Well, you heard me.” You shoot him a sad smile. “I like you.”
Doyoung processes your words all over again. He rakes a hand through his hair and rubs it across his face until it settles over his mouth. Finally, he says: “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” The corner of your mouth twitches upward. “You don’t really have to explain why. I know you don’t see me that way.“
“It’s not you, though,” he insists. “It’s just me–I see all of my mentees like my little siblings. It’s weird to think of you as anything different. I don’t want to hurt you by giving you any false hope.”
“Yeah.” The echoes of his words ring in your head. Wouldn’t work out. Weird. “Trust me, I didn’t want to tell you. I know my feelings for you are weird.”
“God, that’s not what I meant.” He rubs his hand over his eyes. “I’m glad you told me. Because you deserve to know that there’s someone who’s actually going to see you and treat you the way you should be.”
Your gaze snaps to him. You scowl. “You’re one of the kindest people I know. You can do it – for the right person. I’m just not the one for you. You don’t have to let me down easy and pretend it’s some failure of yours. That’s bullshit.”
It’s objectively the meanest you’ve ever been to him; your temper sometimes snaps at the others, but never Doyoung. He looks like you physically slapped him across the face.
You hate that you hurt him, but you hate that he had to hurt you first. All because you couldn’t keep your stupid mouth shut.
“Thanks for telling me honestly,” you mutter. “See you later.”
You take the step towards the sliding glass door only to notice one thing: the door is completely open.
Your stomach drops, but you reach forward to draw back the curtain regardless. There, standing in front of you with matching guilty expressions, is Johnny and Jungwoo.
“We weren’t here the whole time,” Johnny says with his hands up.
Jungwoo opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first.
“One if not both of you need to leave me alone,” you say, pushing past them. “And for god’s sake, someone take care of Doyoung.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
After an hour of giving you space, Johnny finds you wallowing in your sorrows with Yuta.
"Johnny, I don't know why I said it," you sob. "I don't know what came over me! I thought he was asleep!"
Johnny pats your back in slow taps. "It's going to be okay. We've all had our moments."
You raise your head, your tear-filled eyes brimmed red. "Moments meaning that you were brutally rejected in front of your friends?"
"Well, no," Johnny's eyes dart to the door as someone enters. "Jungwoo! Just who we want to see!"
Sure enough, Jungwoo's frozen in the doorway with a water bottle in each hand. "Am I interrupting something? Do you need more space?"
"Not at all." Johnny pats the space next to him. "Actually, I think you should be the escort home. We're around two crying fits away from passing out here. Or yakking. Or both."
You hiccup from your spot against the wall.
"Why does it have to be me?" Jungwoo says, exasperated.
Johnny raises his eyebrows and smirks. "You know why."
"I don't," your best friend responds, crossing his arms. His eyes flit to you nervously.
"Relax. I'm just messing." Johnny glances at the water bottles with a smug smile. "Although, if you'd like to share, who are those waters for?"
"Shut up," Jungwoo scoffs as he kneels at your side. He uncaps the water and holds it up to your lips. "Drink."
You grab at the bottle and take long gulps. The cold water is a welcome relief to the dryness in your throat from crying and talking. "Thanks, Woos."
"No problem. Want to go home?" He glares at Johnny, who shakes with laughter.
You squint at your best friend like he's not real. In all honesty, you feel like he might not be. Everything began to blend together after you'd taken a drink followed by a hit of something from Yuta thirty minutes ago. It's like you and everyone else are floating in a fever dream.
Jungwoo says your name. "Hello? Do you want to go home?"
You nod. "Would like to sleep."
"You got it," he says, pulling you to your feet. He gives a half-assed goodbye to a smirking Johnny before escorting you out of the house.
"I haven't said bye to everyone yet," you insist as you tug your shoes on.
"The others are just as bad as you, if not worse," Jungwoo says. "Trust me."
You do. You follow Jungwoo out of the front door and down the first few stairs, shuddering as the breeze brushes your face. The full moon shines brightly in the sky, free and unobstructed.
"Cold," you state. "And bright."
"Are you sure you can walk by yourself?" Jungwoo asks. His arms outstretch half-open, ready to catch you if need be.
"Mmm..I'm okay," you mumble. You're gripping the railing for dear life, and you hope that you look cognizant enough as he stares into your eyes. "Really, Woos, I'm okay."
"Alright." The serious drop in tone is enough for his arms to relax and drop to his sides. Jungwoo turns around, albeit hesitantly. He takes each step carefully so that he's right in front of you at all times.
Walking down these stairs commands all of your remaining focus. You remain steady enough, somehow, as your shoes resound soft thunk noises against the wooden steps. You exhale in relief as you reach the bottom and turn the corner to the sidewalk. It's just a long stretch to your place now; freshly dried concrete alongside round bushes placed meticulously by the school.
Jungwoo's voice breaks into the crisp night air. "And it's okay, you know. If you're not okay."
Your defenses kick back in, and you're about to lie again when you lose your balance. You try to catch yourself, but it only makes matters worse. Before you know it, you fall to your right and into the nearest bush.
Luckily, due to the thick nature of the bush, you haven't fallen through the branches and leaves; they simply poke at your skin as you lay on top of it. You want to stand up, but the world spinning above you is far too disorienting.
Jungwoo's face pops into your vision. "Okay my ass," you hear him mutter.
You cover your eyes with the palms of your hands, sighing at the relief the cool compress gives you. "I've been through a lot tonight, alright?" You groan into the night. "Are you happy now?"
As your dynamic is founded on teasing each other approximately seventy percent of the time, you brace yourself for the worst. Instead, he frowns. "Not really. Can you stand?"
"As there are currently two Jungwoos spinning above me—no. I can't," you admit.
"Want some help?"
You feel like an absolute child as you raise both arms toward the sky. "Yes, please."
One hand intertwines with yours, while the other wraps around your waist to steady you. "On three. One…two…three!"
You're back on your feet, but the sudden movement causes your head to feel light. You stumble on your feet a little, but Jungwoo steadies you with the same hold.
His eyebrows furrow even as he plucks leaves from your hair. "This isn't going to work."
"Funny, Doyoung pretty much just said those same words to me—"
He shushes you and squeezes your hand. "I meant you walking on your own. Don't think about Doyoung."
"I wasn't," you lie.
There's a short silence as Jungwoo checks something on his phone with his free hand. You look down at where his other hand holds yours.
A thought bubbles up. He really does have nice hands…
"…So warm and soft," you finish the thought out loud as you squeeze his hand.
Jungwoo's face turns bright red. He clears his throat. "Thanks, I think. Warm and soft aren't going to get you home, though."
You shrug. The warm touch has you feeling extra sleepy—what time is it anyway? You sway at the thought of being in your bed.
Before you know it, Jungwoo drops your hand and faces away from you. Then, he squats down and holds his arms out backwards. "Piggyback?"
You squint in suspicion, hovering near him. "Are you sure you’re strong enough to carry me all the way back?"
"Ugh. So mean to me even when you're drunk." He flaps his arms impatiently. "You know I've been working out, you jerk.”
“Well one of us always complains about carrying their backpack from class to class. Let alone a whole person on their back.”
“Whatever. I think I know my own body. Just hop on before I let you sleep in a bush for real this time."
"Fine," you scoff as you climb onto his back and loop your arms around his neck. "Don't blame me if you wake up sore tomorrow, though."
Jungwoo ignores your words and readjusts you on his back before resuming the walk. "I think you should be more concerned about your hangover tomorrow."
A steady and comfortable quiet builds between you. You can feel the warmth of his hands on the backs of your thighs; a stark contrast to the cool night air.
"Jungwoo?" You say after a short distance.
"What's up?" He responds.
"Did I ruin everything?"
Silence. Your thoughts spiral as you relive all of your regrets from tonight.
"What do you mean by everything? The friend group? Doyoung and you?"
You lean forward so that your cheek is pressed up against his back. A few tears creep from your eyes and absorb into the back of his shirt. "I should've just kept quiet. Doyoung was nice about it, but we'll never be the same."
After a moment, he speaks. "If it makes you feel better, I doubt it'll change anything with the others. I think they all suspected as much."
You groan. "God, I wish you didn't tell me that."
"Well, it's the truth," he sighs. "And honestly, would you want things to stay the same? You holding onto and hiding feelings for that clueless guy? The only person that would benefit is him. You're better off finally knowing."
You know he's right. No one else knows how long you've held a flame for your mentor except Jungwoo—he'd seen all of it, from your admission to liking Doyoung down to tonight's rejection.
The facts don't make it hurt any less. You cry quietly on Jungwoo's back. You cry for the past you, blinded by naive and devoted infatuation to what could’ve been. You cry for the present you, heartbroken by the time and effort wasted. You try to move so that the tears avoid Jungwoo as much as possible, but some tears still seep onto his clothes and the nape of his neck.
To his credit, he doesn't comment. He lets you cry even as your tears roll down his own skin and your sniffles hang close to his ear.
When you blink away the last of your tears from swollen eyes, you swallow thickly. "Are we there yet?"
A huff of laughter; you feel his shoulders twitch from the sudden movement. "Almost. You would know that better than me, I think."
"Nope. No clue." You lean your face onto the crook of his neck with a sigh. "Never let me drink this much ever again, Woos. I hope I don't remember any of this."
"With how you've been acting? There's no way you'll remember any of this," he snorts. "You've blacked out before with way less to drink."
"Always the honest one," you roll your eyes. "Sometimes I think it would've been easier if I fell for someone like you instead. Brutally honest, but at least I always know where we stand. You would've figured it out and rejected me from the beginning."
Jungwoo stops. His muscles stiffen, and his grip on your thighs tightens.
You don't notice. It's just a loose thought unlodged from the deep abyss of your subconscious. With how much people pried into the nature of your friendship, how could you have not thought about it? Usually kept controlled, there's little standing between your mouth and most inner thoughts.
"I wouldn't have rejected you," Jungwoo says finally.
There's an initial flip of your stomach, but it's quickly replaced by confusion. Unable to see his expression, you slap his shoulder softly. "Stop messing around," you scold him with a nervous laugh.
The contact seems to shake Jungwoo back to his senses. He continues toward your apartment.
"Sure, I'm messing around," he says, but there's a note of something in his voice that your drunk mind can't dissect at the present moment. "Humor me, though. Have you ever thought of me that way?"
You genuinely think about it. "Not seriously," you think aloud. "By the time I met you, Doyoung was all I saw already. There wasn't room for anyone else."
"Figures," Jungwoo murmurs, more to himself than you. Suddenly, his grip loosens on you, and you’re lowered until your feet touch down on the ground. "We're here. Need help still?"
You nod and fumble with your keys until the lock turns. You tiptoe through your apartment. Jungwoo stabilizes your balance and illuminates the space with his phone flashlight.
"You're lucky that you don't share a room with anyone," he mutters behind you. "Most roommates would really freak out to see a random dude fumbling around your apartment like this."
You don't disagree, but you're too focused on making it to your room to respond. Your door creaks open, revealing your neatly folded pajamas on the bed.
"I love myself," you sigh happily. You step into the bathroom in the hallway for a moment to change clothes and brush your teeth.
"Your shirt's backwards," Jungwoo states when you emerge, sitting on the edge of your bed.
"Don't care," you slur back as you crawl under the covers.
You feel the bed shift as Jungwoo lifts his weight off the mattress. "Alright, I'm heading out now—"
"Woos." You reach your hand out and grasp his wrist. "I really am sorry. I ruined everything."
He gently shakes your grip and pats the top of your head. "I already told you. It's all going to be okay. Just different."
"Is it going to be different between us?” Your voice comes out small. “Are you going to have to choose between me and Doyoung?"
A pause. Jungwoo exhales. "It's not going to be different. I'd choose you over Doyoung anyway, dummy. Not that either of you would want me to choose."
"I would," you breathe out, half asleep as your eyes struggle to stay open. "You're not allowed to leave me."
Your eyes peek open with the last of your strength. Jungwoo's expression flickers with something between affection and hurt; the sight of it confuses you. Have you said something wrong?
He smiles when he sees you looking at him, although it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "That's it, then. You're officially stuck with me."
You relax at the reassurance. You can't hold it anymore; your eyes flutter shut. "It goes both ways. You can't get rid of me, either."
"Wouldn't dream of it." You feel something warm press against your temple. "I just hope that someday, you might consider leaving some room for me, too."
Your brow wrinkles. You don't know what he means, but in your haze you're barely able to register that he's leaving. "Thank you, Woos. You're the best."
"Just pathetic, as always, but it's worth it." You hear the creak of the door as it closes. "Good night."
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
"I just need you to tell me what else happened after I blacked out," you beg over coffee days later. "Did I make even more of a fool out of myself?"
"You didn't," Jungwoo says from the other side of the table. "I would tell you. I just walked you home."
"Okay, then tell me what we talked about!" You huff.
"No can do." He takes a long sip of his coffee with a smirk. "It was just some stupid stuff, as always."
You’d woken up the next morning recalling nothing after your post-rejection rampage. The remainder of your day had been spent under the covers with a throbbing headache accompanied by the sense of forgetting something that you talked about with Jungwoo. Something important.
It’s that nagging feeling that makes you doubt him, but you know your best friend well enough to know Jungwoo won't change his mind. As much as you suspect something happened, you resign yourself to never finding out.
"Fine," you surrender. "Just promise me–if something did happen–that you won't tell anyone else."
"On my honor, I won't tell anyone," Jungwoo swears. He grins ear-to-ear with a knowing look in his eyes. "From now on, it's just between me and the moon."
whew alright guys I finally got that out of my system - those sunkissed secrets backstories were nagging at me to be told so I couldn't help myself LOL
now it's time for me to finish the johnny and jaemin fics i've been putting off lmao
moonlit memories
kim jungwoo x reader | kim doyoung x reader
a/n (please read!): this is a prequel to my other work sunkissed secrets (jungwoo x reader)!! technically both can be read independently, but together this prequel gives more context to the full story :) moonlit memories takes place 7 years before the events of sunkissed secrets.
summary:
After months of pining for Doyoung, you finally resolve to let your feelings go with his graduation—until a few too many drinks spill your true feelings. Always there to pick up the pieces, Jungwoo isn't expecting anything more than another stumble home—until your drunken honesty allows him a rare glimpse into your heart. Did he ever truly stand a chance?
word count: 6.9k
genre: hurt/comfort, angst, college AU, unrequited love, friendzoned!Jungwoo, gn!reader
warnings: swearing, drinking/partying, mentions of smoking
playlist: goodnight n go (ariana grande) | sadalight (kyle dion) | moonlight (dhruv) | anesthetic (evan pak)
One of these days, friendzone be damned, you were going to get Kim Doyoung to notice you.
Although tonight, at Doyoung’s birthday party surrounded by his entire friend group, it’s going to be nearly impossible. While you know Doyoung, Johnny, and Yuta well due to your club’s mentorship program, you were much less acquainted with their friends outside of the club itself.
“Remind me,” one of Doyoung’s friends–you forgot his name within the first five minutes–leans over as he takes a swig of his beer. “How do you know Doyoung again?”
“Same club as those guys,” you nod to Johnny and Yuta at the other end of the table. You see a flicker of confusion on the guy’s face, probably since you don’t look like a senior, so you add: “Doyoung’s my mentor.”
“Ah, I got it,” he leans back with a grin. “‘Big bro’ type of situation. That’s sweet of him to include you, still.”
“Yeah,” you say through gritted teeth. You take a long swig of your drink to mask your awkwardness. “Really sweet.”
As if on cue, Doyoung rescues you from the conversation. “Hey mentee, I actually have someone I want you to meet,” he gestures towards the other side of the room while tugging you along. “Over here.”
“Great,” you mutter, but you offer no resistance. The mere touch of his hands warming your skin is enough to send your heart cartwheeling. At least any change in your expression is mostly masked by the dim lights of the karaoke room.
“Nice to meet you,” a voice says. A hand extends out towards you. “My name is Jungwoo.”
You tear your attention away from Doyoung and blink at the guy in front of you. From what you can tell, he’s definitely younger than Doyoung and the others–probably around your age. He’s tall, and even under his baseball cap you can tell that he has a cute face framed by dark hair.
You meet his hand with yours and say your name. “Nice to meet you.”
“Jungwoo’s your year,” Doyoung chirps. “He’s Yuta’s mentee.”
“Oh!” You relax. You trust Yuta’s taste in people. “He always talks about you.”
“Oh, really?” Jungwoo’s voice is relaxed, but his ears flush red.
You smile as you hold back laughter. “Yeah. He mentioned that his mentees are too busy nowadays, which is why we hadn’t met yet.”
“Right.” Jungwoo rubs the back of his neck. “Well, I can probably carve out more time this semester, since it seems like there’s more reason for me to go.”
You’re about to ask him what reasons he has–this semester has been the slowest ever–but you glance to the now-open space next to you and frown. “Doyoung ditched us already?”
You both do a quick scan about the room; Doyoung is now in an intense duet with Johnny. You roll your eyes. At least Jungwoo seems social enough.
As you chat with him more, you realize that your assessment of him is correct. Jungwoo’s not just social – he’s chatty and funny. You’re much better off than you were before, since he seems to know almost everyone in the room.
“Thank god,” you say to him aside from the others. “I only know people from the club, and they’re all over there. I was in trouble for a while.”
“Happy to help,” Jungwoo’s smile is warm. “Doyoung and I went to the same high school, so it’s no big deal.”
That detail makes your ears perk up. Your inhibitions lowered entirely, you can’t resist nor reign back the eagerness in your voice. “Really? What was he like?”
He hesitates; Jungwoo’s eyes roam over your face. For a moment, he looks like he’s at a loss for words. Then, he shakes himself out of it. “The same, really. Nice to all while being completely dense to his secret admirers.”
Your face feels red-hot. “I didn’t mean it like that–”
“Jungwoo!” Doyoung calls out, shoving a microphone in his hands. “You haven’t gone yet. Pick a song!”
Jungwoo obliges and picks a song.
You gasp as the title displays on the screen. “Sunday Morning? I was going to sing that!”
He raises an eyebrow. “Wanna see who can do it better?”
It’s the start of a long karaoke battle – you and Jungwoo choose song after song in an attempt to score higher than the other. It gets so competitive that you start keeping track via the notes app in your phone, and people start betting on the overall winner.
It’s intense, incredibly childish, and fueled by the others pumping you with drinks. By the time you reach the final song selection of the challenge, you’re singing with your eyes completely closed – not for the purpose of an extra challenge, but simply because you can’t keep them open anymore.
You belt out the last note with gusto. Panting, you open your eyes, and the bright screen lights make your eyes water.
Score: 100
“Take that!” You yell with a laugh while spinning. You stop in your tracks just as quickly.
The first issue: Jungwoo’s body spreads out over the couch, his head rolled back and body rising up and down as he lightly snores.
The second issue: Aside from Jungwoo dozing off, there is nobody else in the room. You take a look around – no phones, wallets, or purses in sight. There’s a signed receipt at the front of the room timestamped for thirty minutes ago.
You crawl to Jungwoo’s side, shaking him. “Jungwoo! Wake up!”
He groans before blinking up at you, confused. “What? Where are we?” He sits up quickly. “How long have we been here?!”
You put all of your focus into keeping your words coherent. “Uh–they left us. I think. The receipt is in the front.”
He squints through the party lights. “Any texts?”
You unlock your phone. There is in fact one text each from both Johnny and Doyoung.
“Johnny says Sorry. Doyoung insisted,” you read aloud.
“Anything from Doyoung?”
“Use this time to get to know Jungwoo. He’s a nice guy.” You sink down and cradle your head in your hands. “This is so embarrassing.”
Jungwoo hiccups. “It’s so embarrassing because I’m a nice guy?”
“Not that. He’s totally setting us up!” Your mind races. All of the gestures and signals you thought you’ve been sending him, and that results in him trying to set you up with a stranger? Was he just dense, or do you really have no appeal to him at all?
“So…” Jungwoo says after watching your expression twist amidst your silent spiral. “You like him, don’t you?”
You look away, humiliated. “I might.”
He releases a sharp laugh. “This is pretty embarrassing for both of us, then. Let’s go.”
He says it as a firm command, but he immediately stumbles over after standing. Jungwoo tries again, only to sway and lean most of his weight on the couch.
“Jungwoo…” you say, shocked. “Are you a lightweight?”
“They gave us a lot!” He protests.
“Sure, but they gave me a lot more since I got here before you,” you point out. “I feel like you’re more drunk than I am.”
“I’m not drunk. Watch.” Jungwoo stands up and walks towards the door, but he trips over part of the couch and topples to the floor.
“Shit!” You rush to his side. “Are you okay?”
“I would’ve made it if the door wasn’t spinning,” he says from the floor.
You help him to his feet. “Alright, we have to improvise. Get on my back.”
“Excuse me?” He says. “There’s no way you can carry me home.”
“I’ll carry you just to the taxi, dummy,” you say, draping Jungwoo arm over your shoulder to take some of his weight. “You’ll have to take it from there.”
“Do you know me well enough to call me a dummy?” Jungwoo grumbles in your ear.
“I do now,” you laugh. Despite your frustration at Doyoung’s actions, you feel surprisingly light. “For the purposes of tonight, we’re now stuck together.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
What you hadn’t anticipated, that night, was that you and Jungwoo would quickly become inseparable friends, trauma bonded by that night out together. You were sworn to secrecy about his lack of tolerance for alcohol, and he was sworn to secrecy about your crush on Doyoung. The two of you were always together in and outside of club activities–which he did end up coming to more, for reasons still unknown.
Which is why, the week before Doyoung’s graduation, you decide to tell him first.
"It's time," you announce to Jungwoo. "I'm going to get over Doyoung."
Jungwoo chokes mid-sip of his iced coffee. You pat his back as he falls into a coughing fit.
“Warn me next time!” He says through a teary glare.
“Sorry,” you shrug, only a little sheepish. “I couldn’t keep it in anymore.”
He eyes you up and down. “Did something happen? What’s with the sudden decision?”
“I think it’s just…time,” you say.
“Is there someone else?” Jungwoo seems uncertain even as he asks it, and he doesn’t quite look you in the eye.
“No. It’s just time,” your smile is sad. “He’s about to graduate, and I need to move on with my life.”
Jungwoo takes a long sip of his coffee before speaking again. “Are you going to tell him?”
You shake your head. “There’s no use. I know he just doesn’t see me like that, so telling him would just make things awkward. It’s better for both of us if I just move on quietly. After tonight.”
Somewhere past your words, deep down, it does devastate you to know that you’re better off not telling him. The same reasons why you like Doyoung in the first place – his kindness, consideration of others, and insistence on protecting you – would be the same reasons why your confession would upset the delicate balance of your relationship forever.
Jungwoo watches the emotions pass over your face without comment. “Whatever you want to do,” he says. “I’ll be there for you, no matter what you end up choosing.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
“I brought some more beer!” You call out as you walk through the door.
“Oh shit—hey!” Johnny’s standing on a chair holding one end of a banner that says CONGRATS GRAD in gold lettering. “Put them on the counter. I’ll find a place for them later.”
You do as you’re told, passing by your friends towards the kitchen.
“You didn’t have to come this early,” Jungwoo says from his place at the other end of the banner. He raises an eyebrow at you.
You know that look, and you choose to pointedly ignore it. “I am doing my part as a friend that’s not graduating this year, thank you. Johnny shouldn’t even be setting up—isn’t this a surprise party for all the seniors?”
“I’m graduating a semester after everyone, so technically this is just for Yuta and Doyoung,” Johnny shrugs. “I doubt anyone will mind getting together again in six months to celebrate mine.”
“Fair enough,” you say as you start clearing their dining table.
When Johnny takes a minute in his room and is finally out of earshot, Jungwoo leans his chin into the palm of his hand as he stares at you. “Doing your part as Doyoung’s dedicated friend, huh? What happened to getting over him?”
“After tonight I’m getting over him,” you correct. “Therefore, I have approximately eight more hours until it’s really over.”
He looks at you for a long moment before sighing. “Fine. Just be careful.”
"It’s just our friend group.” You tilt your head. “What's there to be careful of?”
-
“They’re here!” Johnny hisses. Everyone dives behind the first piece of furniture they can find or duck behind walls.
You hide behind the kitchen counter next to Jungwoo. He pokes your shoulder playfully, which prompts you to swat at him like a bug.
The lock on the front door clicks, and there’s a creak followed by shuffled footsteps as the two guests of honor presumably step in.
You hear Doyoung first: “Whoa—so dark.”
Everyone takes the instant as their cue, jumping out of their hiding spots. You and Jungwoo leap up as if synchronized.
“SURPRISE!” Everyone yells in unison.
Yuta flinches in surprise, but Doyoung’s reaction is by far the funniest; his eyes widen and his jaw drops completely open.
Everyone laughs as they take videos of their reactions. You follow suit, pulling out your phone to take a few pics. You smile as you get a perfect picture of Doyoung in the frame.
You pocket your phone, only to catch Jungwoo looking away while shaking his head.
It only takes an hour for things to devolve into chaos. The mission for tonight is clear for all attendees: get Doyoung and Yuta as drunk as possible. Yuta’s able to fend off most requests by stepping out to smoke with Johnny and some others, but Doyoung’s left to pick up the remaining slack.
All of that is somewhat expected. What you didn’t anticipate, however, is that Doyoung would assign you as his unofficial drinking buddy.
“Mentee!” Doyoung drapes an arm around you. “Take this drink for me!”
You gingerly remove his arm from your shoulders. “I think people are intending these drinks for you. You know, for your graduation.”
“Fine,” he grumbles. “Take a drink with me then? Please, so I’m not alone?”
It’s his proximity and the lingering scent of his cologne–crisp like fresh linens–that scrambles your thoughts and elicits the kneejerk response of “Sure!”
It doesn’t stop at one. Soon, Doyoung has you downing shot after shot on the basis of friendship. Thankfully, you’d lost Doyoung after the last shot, granting you a small reprieve from the drinking.
Your cheeks flush, and your head feels so heavy that you find a place to sit on the floor and hang your head forward. When did it get so hot in here?
“Hey,” a voice says above you.
You ignore it, figuring it’s intended for someone else.
“Hey,” it says again. This time, something cold presses into the back of your neck. You flinch and whip your head upwards to look at the offender.
“That’s cold, Woos,” you glare up at him.
“Just checking for proof of life,” he shrugs before handing you a water bottle. “Drink this.”
The cold water provides such a relief that you gulp it down greedily. You gasp for air when you finish. “Thanks.”
Jungwoo stares at you. “…Alright then. I’ll get you another one?”
“Yes, please.”
“You got it.” He pauses. “No more drinking, okay? Say no if Doyoung asks you again.”
You don’t know how Jungwoo knows about Doyoung’s peer pressure, but it’s probably for the best. “Okay.”
“Like, I really don’t think you should drink anything else.”
You shoot him a thumbs up for good measure. “I won’t.”
Despite his good intentions, you feel a flash of irritation. Sometimes Jungwoo’s check-ins lean on the side of being too much — sure, you have terrible luck, but you’re an adult, not a child to be doted on.
As if on cue, your luck runs out. You linger in your spot too long without noticing the cups being set up, and before you know it hands are lifting you up onto your feet.
“Rage cage,” Johnny explains with an apologetic smile. “Your presence has been requested.”
Your head spins, and you clutch onto Johnny’s hand. You’re sure your grip must be crushing his bones, but you’re incapable of steadying yourself otherwise.
“Jungwoo isn’t going to like this,” you mumble under your breath.
Johnny tilts his head closer to listen. “What was that?”
“Jungwoo said I shouldn’t drink anymore,” you say louder.
“Oh?” He asks with raised eyebrows. “Sure, doesn’t make a difference to me. You should probably tell Doyoung you aren’t playing though; he hasn’t shut up about getting all of his mentees there.”
Your chest constricts. Of course he wasn’t asking for you, specifically.
As it turns out, there’s no way for you to really talk to Doyoung about backing out. By the time you and Johnny approach the table, the rules are being explained to the entire group. Doyoung is at the opposite end of the table, and he’s too busy messing around with his friends immediately next to him.
“Guess I’m playing at least one game,” you exhale.
“I’ll be nice and go to your left,” Johnny says as he slides to your other side. “You’re welcome.”
You roll your eyes. At the same time, the cups start moving on each side of the table. The group quickly devolves into yelling and shouting as people are missing the shot, making the shot, and stacking on their neighbor when they outpace them. It’s a game that you always merely survive in–really, you never fully remember the rules until halfway through the game–but you’re doing pretty decently this time around.
“Huh,” you say to Johnny as you watch the cups travel to the other side. “I’m doing way better than usual.”
The next day, you’d be convinced those words are what doomed the rest of your night.
The first misfortune begins when Jaehyun, who’d been playing half-heartedly with his phone in his hand, leaves the game with a shrug. That leaves Ten to your right hand side.
“You’ll go easy on me, right, Ten?” You ask nervously.
“Nope,” Ten says, popping the p sound. “You have to keep up.”
In Ten’s typical fashion, he means what he says. His competitive nature leaves no prisoners.
You’re sure everyone in the game is thinking the same thing as you: I don’t want the bitch cup. You’ve never felt more determined and focused.
“Where the hell did this skill come from?” Johnny laughs after both of you pass your turns with ease. “I’ve never seen you play so well.”
“I am not drinking whatever the hell is in that,” you say as you point to the bitch cup.
“I think it’s beer, seltzer, and maybe whisky this time,” he muses. “But it looks like you’re off the hook today. They got Doyoung.”
You glance up. Not only is just the bitch cup left, but Doyoung’s currently struggling to bounce the ball into the taller stack of twenty red solo cups. The guy to Doyoung’s right sinks his ball into a single cup easily, and he slams his cup into Doyoung’s stack with a roar.
You sigh in relief. Then, you and Johnny wince while watching Doyoung chug the bitch cup with his eyes closed. It’s painful to watch, but he does it.
As soon as he drops the cup, he begins to sway back and forth slowly. You and Johnny rush to his side in an instant, both of you taking an arm to hold him up.
“It’s hot in here,” Doyoung complains. His cheeks are flushed in a deep red.
“We can step outside,” Johnny says, taking the lead toward the back of the living room. The couch is positioned in front of a large curtain covering the sliding glass door to the outside balcony–a precaution for whenever they throw parties–but Johnny simply tugs the couch outwards and pulls the curtain back to open the door.
The cold air from outside wooshes against your skin, which makes you shudder. Regardless, you press on and follow your friends outside.
Johnny sits Doyoung in one of the chairs outside. You settle in the chair next to him.
“Feel better out here?” Johnny asks.
Doyoung grunts in something that sounds close enough to assent. His head slumps back as he closes his eyes.
“Hmm,” Johnny rises to his feet. “Hold on, I’ll be right back–can you just watch him for a bit?”
You jump. “Me?”
“Who else?” He snorts. “Think you got it?”
Your own head still feels light and dizzy. Despite not being the victim of the bitch cup (thanks, Doyoung), Ten’s lack of mercy had still left you worse for wear.
Even so, you want to be helpful. You straighten your posture and harness all your focus into looking directly into Johnny’s eyes with a reassuring smile. “Right. I got it, don’t worry.”
He nods and steps back inside.
Doyoung groans and peeks with one eye. “Where’d Johnny go?”
“Inside for a little. He’ll be back.”
“Nice.” He shoots a tired smile at you. His voice comes out a little bit hoarse. “Thanks for staying out here with me. And coming tonight, in general.”
In the moonlight, Doyoung’s smooth skin and slightly tousled hair look almost otherworldly. He leans completely back in his chair, hand pushing back his hair from his forehead as his breaths come out a little heavy.
“Uh.” Your breath catches. “It’s no problem, really. It’s your graduation, so of course I came.”
He looks at you through half-lidded eyes as he processes your words. Then, he smiles. “Of course.”
Despite the lack of contact, your nerves feel like they’re on fire. You’re on the edge of your seat, trying to keep yourself from fidgeting too much.
Doyoung doesn’t seem to notice your restlessness; on the contrary, he leans his head back again and closes his eyes. “I’m just going to rest my eyes,” he mumbles.
You watch in fond amusement as his “rest” extends for minutes.
“Cute,” you say to yourself, but then you cover your own mouth. You search Doyoung’s face for any sign of consciousness, but he looks the same.
Thank god, you think.
Really, there’s a part of you that almost wishes that he was awake to hear it. As much as your fear of ruining your friendship has held you back from any confession, sometimes it’s too much to bear.
You look at his face. Doyoung’s features are completely relaxed. Serene and beautiful.
You sigh. This is precisely why you’d planned to get over him. You can’t afford to let your feelings for Doyoung consume you any longer. You have no reason to believe that he would ever see you as anything more than a friend. In some ways, it’s worse–you’re his mentee. Someone that he sees as needing his care and guidance, rather than an equal.
You know that you decided to simply move on without possibility of conflict, but the alcohol in your system spurs you to take your action, however small. Sure, you’d planned not to tell him at all, but would this really count?
You lean forward in your seat, examining his breathing. It’s steady and deep–he must be asleep. You’d better do this soon before Johnny comes back.
“I never thought I’d tell you this,” you say into the open air. Despite your lack of active audience, your voice shakes. “I like you, Doyoung. I’ve liked you ever since I met you.”
To your own surprise, tears prick at the corner of your eyes. You blink until the urge passes. “I’ve never seen you as just my mentor. I’ve always wanted to be something more, and I like you so much that it hurts.”
The release hurts more than you expected. It’s a deep ache in your chest, but you smile in spite of the bittersweetness. “That’s all. Thank you for teaching me that I could feel this way about someone.”
I should probably find Johnny, you think. You exhale deeply and rise, tiptoeing in front of Doyoung’s chair to get to the door.
“Wait.” A hand grabs your wrist.
You freeze, and a chill drops through your body. You turn slowly toward Doyoung, who’s holding your wrist in his grip. His eyes are wide and resolute–completely alert.
“I–what–” your words come out in disconnected chokes. “You were sleeping.”
“I wasn’t.” He winces. “I was really just resting my eyes.”
“Oh.”
Time passes impossibly slow. The silence is so deafening that you can hear a mosquito buzzing around your head along with the faint bass bumping inside. Neither of you move.
Doyoung starts by saying your name. “I–”
“Can you pretend you didn’t hear any of that?”
“What?” Doyoung’s taken aback. “But I did.”
You refuse to turn your body to face him. “You could pretend you didn’t.”
“You know I can’t do that.” His voice is so soft that your heart pangs. He tugs at your wrist again. “Please sit back down.”
This time, you move. You tear your wrist from his grip and sit facing him. Your body feels numb, but you don’t know whether that’s due to the cold, the alcohol still coursing through your system, or the shock alone.
“Well, you heard me.” You shoot him a sad smile. “I like you.”
Doyoung processes your words all over again. He rakes a hand through his hair and rubs it across his face until it settles over his mouth. Finally, he says: “I’m sorry.”
“I know.” The corner of your mouth twitches upward. “You don’t really have to explain why. I know you don’t see me that way.“
“It’s not you, though,” he insists. “It’s just me–I see all of my mentees like my little siblings. It’s weird to think of you as anything different. I don’t want to hurt you by giving you any false hope.”
“Yeah.” The echoes of his words ring in your head. Wouldn’t work out. Weird. “Trust me, I didn’t want to tell you. I know my feelings for you are weird.”
“God, that’s not what I meant.” He rubs his hand over his eyes. “I’m glad you told me. Because you deserve to know that there’s someone who’s actually going to see you and treat you the way you should be.”
Your gaze snaps to him. You scowl. “You’re one of the kindest people I know. You can do it – for the right person. I’m just not the one for you. You don’t have to let me down easy and pretend it’s some failure of yours. That’s bullshit.”
It’s objectively the meanest you’ve ever been to him; your temper sometimes snaps at the others, but never Doyoung. He looks like you physically slapped him across the face.
You hate that you hurt him, but you hate that he had to hurt you first. All because you couldn’t keep your stupid mouth shut.
“Thanks for telling me honestly,” you mutter. “See you later.”
You take the step towards the sliding glass door only to notice one thing: the door is completely open.
Your stomach drops, but you reach forward to draw back the curtain regardless. There, standing in front of you with matching guilty expressions, is Johnny and Jungwoo.
“We weren’t here the whole time,” Johnny says with his hands up.
Jungwoo opens his mouth to say something, but you speak first.
“One if not both of you need to leave me alone,” you say, pushing past them. “And for god’s sake, someone take care of Doyoung.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
After an hour of giving you space, Johnny finds you wallowing in your sorrows with Yuta.
"Johnny, I don't know why I said it," you sob. "I don't know what came over me! I thought he was asleep!"
Johnny pats your back in slow taps. "It's going to be okay. We've all had our moments."
You raise your head, your tear-filled eyes brimmed red. "Moments meaning that you were brutally rejected in front of your friends?"
"Well, no," Johnny's eyes dart to the door as someone enters. "Jungwoo! Just who we want to see!"
Sure enough, Jungwoo's frozen in the doorway with a water bottle in each hand. "Am I interrupting something? Do you need more space?"
"Not at all." Johnny pats the space next to him. "Actually, I think you should be the escort home. We're around two crying fits away from passing out here. Or yakking. Or both."
You hiccup from your spot against the wall.
"Why does it have to be me?" Jungwoo says, exasperated.
Johnny raises his eyebrows and smirks. "You know why."
"I don't," your best friend responds, crossing his arms. His eyes flit to you nervously.
"Relax. I'm just messing." Johnny glances at the water bottles with a smug smile. "Although, if you'd like to share, who are those waters for?"
"Shut up," Jungwoo scoffs as he kneels at your side. He uncaps the water and holds it up to your lips. "Drink."
You grab at the bottle and take long gulps. The cold water is a welcome relief to the dryness in your throat from crying and talking. "Thanks, Woos."
"No problem. Want to go home?" He glares at Johnny, who shakes with laughter.
You squint at your best friend like he's not real. In all honesty, you feel like he might not be. Everything began to blend together after you'd taken a drink followed by a hit of something from Yuta thirty minutes ago. It's like you and everyone else are floating in a fever dream.
Jungwoo says your name. "Hello? Do you want to go home?"
You nod. "Would like to sleep."
"You got it," he says, pulling you to your feet. He gives a half-assed goodbye to a smirking Johnny before escorting you out of the house.
"I haven't said bye to everyone yet," you insist as you tug your shoes on.
"The others are just as bad as you, if not worse," Jungwoo says. "Trust me."
You do. You follow Jungwoo out of the front door and down the first few stairs, shuddering as the breeze brushes your face. The full moon shines brightly in the sky, free and unobstructed.
"Cold," you state. "And bright."
"Are you sure you can walk by yourself?" Jungwoo asks. His arms outstretch half-open, ready to catch you if need be.
"Mmm..I'm okay," you mumble. You're gripping the railing for dear life, and you hope that you look cognizant enough as he stares into your eyes. "Really, Woos, I'm okay."
"Alright." The serious drop in tone is enough for his arms to relax and drop to his sides. Jungwoo turns around, albeit hesitantly. He takes each step carefully so that he's right in front of you at all times.
Walking down these stairs commands all of your remaining focus. You remain steady enough, somehow, as your shoes resound soft thunk noises against the wooden steps. You exhale in relief as you reach the bottom and turn the corner to the sidewalk. It's just a long stretch to your place now; freshly dried concrete alongside round bushes placed meticulously by the school.
Jungwoo's voice breaks into the crisp night air. "And it's okay, you know. If you're not okay."
Your defenses kick back in, and you're about to lie again when you lose your balance. You try to catch yourself, but it only makes matters worse. Before you know it, you fall to your right and into the nearest bush.
Luckily, due to the thick nature of the bush, you haven't fallen through the branches and leaves; they simply poke at your skin as you lay on top of it. You want to stand up, but the world spinning above you is far too disorienting.
Jungwoo's face pops into your vision. "Okay my ass," you hear him mutter.
You cover your eyes with the palms of your hands, sighing at the relief the cool compress gives you. "I've been through a lot tonight, alright?" You groan into the night. "Are you happy now?"
As your dynamic is founded on teasing each other approximately seventy percent of the time, you brace yourself for the worst. Instead, he frowns. "Not really. Can you stand?"
"As there are currently two Jungwoos spinning above me—no. I can't," you admit.
"Want some help?"
You feel like an absolute child as you raise both arms toward the sky. "Yes, please."
One hand intertwines with yours, while the other wraps around your waist to steady you. "On three. One…two…three!"
You're back on your feet, but the sudden movement causes your head to feel light. You stumble on your feet a little, but Jungwoo steadies you with the same hold.
His eyebrows furrow even as he plucks leaves from your hair. "This isn't going to work."
"Funny, Doyoung pretty much just said those same words to me—"
He shushes you and squeezes your hand. "I meant you walking on your own. Don't think about Doyoung."
"I wasn't," you lie.
There's a short silence as Jungwoo checks something on his phone with his free hand. You look down at where his other hand holds yours.
A thought bubbles up. He really does have nice hands…
"…So warm and soft," you finish the thought out loud as you squeeze his hand.
Jungwoo's face turns bright red. He clears his throat. "Thanks, I think. Warm and soft aren't going to get you home, though."
You shrug. The warm touch has you feeling extra sleepy—what time is it anyway? You sway at the thought of being in your bed.
Before you know it, Jungwoo drops your hand and faces away from you. Then, he squats down and holds his arms out backwards. "Piggyback?"
You squint in suspicion, hovering near him. "Are you sure you’re strong enough to carry me all the way back?"
"Ugh. So mean to me even when you're drunk." He flaps his arms impatiently. "You know I've been working out, you jerk.”
“Well one of us always complains about carrying their backpack from class to class. Let alone a whole person on their back.”
“Whatever. I think I know my own body. Just hop on before I let you sleep in a bush for real this time."
"Fine," you scoff as you climb onto his back and loop your arms around his neck. "Don't blame me if you wake up sore tomorrow, though."
Jungwoo ignores your words and readjusts you on his back before resuming the walk. "I think you should be more concerned about your hangover tomorrow."
A steady and comfortable quiet builds between you. You can feel the warmth of his hands on the backs of your thighs; a stark contrast to the cool night air.
"Jungwoo?" You say after a short distance.
"What's up?" He responds.
"Did I ruin everything?"
Silence. Your thoughts spiral as you relive all of your regrets from tonight.
"What do you mean by everything? The friend group? Doyoung and you?"
You lean forward so that your cheek is pressed up against his back. A few tears creep from your eyes and absorb into the back of his shirt. "I should've just kept quiet. Doyoung was nice about it, but we'll never be the same."
After a moment, he speaks. "If it makes you feel better, I doubt it'll change anything with the others. I think they all suspected as much."
You groan. "God, I wish you didn't tell me that."
"Well, it's the truth," he sighs. "And honestly, would you want things to stay the same? You holding onto and hiding feelings for that clueless guy? The only person that would benefit is him. You're better off finally knowing."
You know he's right. No one else knows how long you've held a flame for your mentor except Jungwoo—he'd seen all of it, from your admission to liking Doyoung down to tonight's rejection.
The facts don't make it hurt any less. You cry quietly on Jungwoo's back. You cry for the past you, blinded by naive and devoted infatuation to what could’ve been. You cry for the present you, heartbroken by the time and effort wasted. You try to move so that the tears avoid Jungwoo as much as possible, but some tears still seep onto his clothes and the nape of his neck.
To his credit, he doesn't comment. He lets you cry even as your tears roll down his own skin and your sniffles hang close to his ear.
When you blink away the last of your tears from swollen eyes, you swallow thickly. "Are we there yet?"
A huff of laughter; you feel his shoulders twitch from the sudden movement. "Almost. You would know that better than me, I think."
"Nope. No clue." You lean your face onto the crook of his neck with a sigh. "Never let me drink this much ever again, Woos. I hope I don't remember any of this."
"With how you've been acting? There's no way you'll remember any of this," he snorts. "You've blacked out before with way less to drink."
"Always the honest one," you roll your eyes. "Sometimes I think it would've been easier if I fell for someone like you instead. Brutally honest, but at least I always know where we stand. You would've figured it out and rejected me from the beginning."
Jungwoo stops. His muscles stiffen, and his grip on your thighs tightens.
You don't notice. It's just a loose thought unlodged from the deep abyss of your subconscious. With how much people pried into the nature of your friendship, how could you have not thought about it? Usually kept controlled, there's little standing between your mouth and most inner thoughts.
"I wouldn't have rejected you," Jungwoo says finally.
There's an initial flip of your stomach, but it's quickly replaced by confusion. Unable to see his expression, you slap his shoulder softly. "Stop messing around," you scold him with a nervous laugh.
The contact seems to shake Jungwoo back to his senses. He continues toward your apartment.
"Sure, I'm messing around," he says, but there's a note of something in his voice that your drunk mind can't dissect at the present moment. "Humor me, though. Have you ever thought of me that way?"
You genuinely think about it. "Not seriously," you think aloud. "By the time I met you, Doyoung was all I saw already. There wasn't room for anyone else."
"Figures," Jungwoo murmurs, more to himself than you. Suddenly, his grip loosens on you, and you’re lowered until your feet touch down on the ground. "We're here. Need help still?"
You nod and fumble with your keys until the lock turns. You tiptoe through your apartment. Jungwoo stabilizes your balance and illuminates the space with his phone flashlight.
"You're lucky that you don't share a room with anyone," he mutters behind you. "Most roommates would really freak out to see a random dude fumbling around your apartment like this."
You don't disagree, but you're too focused on making it to your room to respond. Your door creaks open, revealing your neatly folded pajamas on the bed.
"I love myself," you sigh happily. You step into the bathroom in the hallway for a moment to change clothes and brush your teeth.
"Your shirt's backwards," Jungwoo states when you emerge, sitting on the edge of your bed.
"Don't care," you slur back as you crawl under the covers.
You feel the bed shift as Jungwoo lifts his weight off the mattress. "Alright, I'm heading out now—"
"Woos." You reach your hand out and grasp his wrist. "I really am sorry. I ruined everything."
He gently shakes your grip and pats the top of your head. "I already told you. It's all going to be okay. Just different."
"Is it going to be different between us?” Your voice comes out small. “Are you going to have to choose between me and Doyoung?"
A pause. Jungwoo exhales. "It's not going to be different. I'd choose you over Doyoung anyway, dummy. Not that either of you would want me to choose."
"I would," you breathe out, half asleep as your eyes struggle to stay open. "You're not allowed to leave me."
Your eyes peek open with the last of your strength. Jungwoo's expression flickers with something between affection and hurt; the sight of it confuses you. Have you said something wrong?
He smiles when he sees you looking at him, although it doesn't quite reach his eyes. "That's it, then. You're officially stuck with me."
You relax at the reassurance. You can't hold it anymore; your eyes flutter shut. "It goes both ways. You can't get rid of me, either."
"Wouldn't dream of it." You feel something warm press against your temple. "I just hope that someday, you might consider leaving some room for me, too."
Your brow wrinkles. You don't know what he means, but in your haze you're barely able to register that he's leaving. "Thank you, Woos. You're the best."
"Just pathetic, as always, but it's worth it." You hear the creak of the door as it closes. "Good night."
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ ☾ ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
"I just need you to tell me what else happened after I blacked out," you beg over coffee days later. "Did I make even more of a fool out of myself?"
"You didn't," Jungwoo says from the other side of the table. "I would tell you. I just walked you home."
"Okay, then tell me what we talked about!" You huff.
"No can do." He takes a long sip of his coffee with a smirk. "It was just some stupid stuff, as always."
You’d woken up the next morning recalling nothing after your post-rejection rampage. The remainder of your day had been spent under the covers with a throbbing headache accompanied by the sense of forgetting something that you talked about with Jungwoo. Something important.
It’s that nagging feeling that makes you doubt him, but you know your best friend well enough to know Jungwoo won't change his mind. As much as you suspect something happened, you resign yourself to never finding out.
"Fine," you surrender. "Just promise me–if something did happen–that you won't tell anyone else."
"On my honor, I won't tell anyone," Jungwoo swears. He grins ear-to-ear with a knowing look in his eyes. "From now on, it's just between me and the moon."
sunkissed secrets
kim jungwoo x reader | ft. 127
word count: 15.6k
genre: fluff, fake dating, friends to lovers , gender neutral reader (some fem elements but identity is vague), post-college AU, one bed trope if you squint
warnings: suggestive, swearing, kissing
playlist:
Astro Afterglow (Kyle Dion) | When Did You Get Hot? (Sabrina Carpenter) | Vacation Eyes - (Jonas Brothers) | Yacht (NCT 127) | Accidentally In Love (Counting Crows)
summary:
Ahead of Doyoung's wedding, you and Jungwoo conspire a fake relationship to avoid unsolicited matchmaking. The line between pretend and reality begins to blur as the weekend unfolds, and now you’re left wondering: is this chemistry just part of the act, or has something real been waiting to surface all along?
It all starts with a royal blue envelope with large, swooping brushstrokes spelling your name and address across the front.
You don’t even need to open it to know what it is: an invitation to Doyoung’s wedding. You toss it aside on your coffee table, unopened.
It remains there for an entire week. When Jungwoo’s name pops up on your phone’s display, you already know what he’s going to ask you about.
You stare at the contact wallpaper–a photo of you and him dressed up as Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy during a college Halloween party–and contemplate letting the call go to voicemail.
Knowing Jungwoo, he never calls unless he has something to say, so you pick up. “What’s up?”
“Did you get the invitation?” He asks point blank.
You eye the envelope from your position on the couch. “…I might have.”
“Why are you acting weird?” You can hear the frown in his voice.
“I’m not acting weird.”
“Well, are you going?” He grills you.
“What are you, the bride?” You scoff. “I just got it. I still have time to fill it out and send it back.”
“That’s not a yes, Jungwoo, I’m going.” There’s a pause. “But it sounds like you haven’t opened it.”
“Fine,” you groan, snatching the envelope from the table and ripping through the thick material along the seam. “Opening it as we speak...You are cordially invited to the wedding of Doyoung and–”
“It’s in three months. Are you going?”
You sigh. Of course he wouldn’t just let it go. “I honestly don’t know, Woos.”
You brace yourself to be chewed out like the time you’d accidentally double booked yourself on the night of Johnny’s debut DJ set. It would be valid; you’re throwing out nonsense that you don’t mean, and Jungwoo is always the one pushing to bring the whole group together. Instead, to your surprise, the other end of the line is quiet. Too quiet.
“Uh, Jungwoo–”
“Are you still going to class tomorrow?”
At the beginning of the year, you and Jungwoo had pledged to restart your fitness journeys by trying out some workout classes together. You’d anticipated a class one week, then maybe another class a couple weeks later. What you hadn’t expected was for Jungwoo to drag you to, at minimum, two instructor-led classes a week in addition to random gym sessions together. Your current predicament was admittedly your own fault–who hasn’t gotten overambitious while setting New Year’s Resolutions?–but you had completely underestimated Jungwoo’s discipline and commitment to taking you to various pilates, strength, and cardio classes.
Tomorrow’s fitness class is spin, and you wince thinking about the burn your legs are about to experience. “Yeah, I’m going.”
“Cool,” he replies. “We’ll talk more then.”
You’re about to protest when the dial tone drones in your ear first.
“Damn it,” you mutter, leafing through the envelope’s contents.
There’s two pieces of paper inside: the invitation itself and a response card to be sent back to the happy couple.
The beige cardstock invitation lists all of the expected information in cursive letters. The wedding is on the coast and, like Jungwoo said, planned for three months from now. Attire: Formal.
The response card has a space for you to fill in your name as well as note your meal of choice. What you don’t expect is, in an additional row, there is a space for you to include information for a guest of choice.
“I fail to see the issue,” Jungwoo says the next day during your post-class lunch. “Isn’t it nice for them to let you bring someone?”
“That’s the thing,” you scoff while stabbing into a piece of chicken. “Doyoung specifically told me that he wasn’t going to give me a plus one.”
“Seemed like he just changed his mind?. First, you refuse to open the invitation, and now you’re mad that he’s paying for you to bring another person. What’s the deal?” Jungwoo’s fork freezes in midair as he squints at you. “...You don’t secretly still have feelings for him, do you?”
“What the fuck? No!” You choke on your water mid-sip.
You've known Doyoung since your second year of university. It was Doyoung that introduced you to everyone else in your close circle–from the upperclassmen that took you under their wing to students around your age. In fact, you’d met Jungwoo during Doyoung’s birthday party, and from then on his presence was cemented in your life.
Doyoung was your club mentor, which meant that he looked out for you and gave you advice while you were a struggling underclassman. It hadn’t taken long for your imagination to run rampant and begin hoping that his considerate gestures would start to feel more romantic in nature.
They never did. You’d kept your crush to yourself, up until you’d accidentally drunk confessed to him during his own graduation party. Doyoung rejected you, kind as always, and the world continued turning. However, your friendship with him never quite recovered to the same level of closeness.
“God no. It’s been over five years since he rejected me,” you clarify through your coughs, embarrassed. “I am way past having feelings for him.”
“Then what’s the issue?”
The issue, frankly, was that the Doyoung of recent years had made it his apparent life mission to help you find your life partner. Blind dates, holiday parties, other people’s weddings–you could count on a text message from him at any turn.
Speak of the devil, you groan as a text flashes across your screen: I know you’re probably wondering about why I gave you a plus one.
You show Jungwoo, who leans forward in his chair expectantly. “Yes, yes, ask him why.”
I did consider seating you with a couple friends of mine who I think you’d get along with, he texts back without you having to answer. Those are still options if you want, but feel free to bring whoever.
“This is why I didn’t even want to open the invite,” you complain to Jungwoo, who chews on his food thoughtfully. “Do you see what I have to put up with? He’s obviously trying to set me up with someone. Again.”
“I didn’t realize he was still doing this for you,” Jungwoo replies. His eyes seem to look through you, as if distracted by something. “I thought he’d give up by now.”
You had too. You suspect it’s a horrific byproduct of Doyoung’s sense of obligation towards you: the habitual responsibility of a mentor combined with the overwhelming guilt of breaking your heart. It’s one of the reasons why your friendship had waned in the aftermath of your confession; it was one thing to be rejected for all of your mutual friends to see, but having the same man overcompensate by insisting on finding you a life partner was too much.
“Maybe I should just find someone to bring,” you think out loud. At this point, you’re desperate; you might as well try to have an awkward encounter on your own terms. “I could ask around just to get him off my back.”
Usually Jungwoo’s game for entertaining your wacky ideas, but his expression twists into a scowl. He pushes his hair back with one hand. “What is this, a drama? Rent-A-Boyfriend?”
You volley his attitude right back at him. “If you haven’t noticed, I haven’t been seeing anyone.”
“I notice. I don’t think you need to.”
“Don’t need to rent a boyfriend? Gather date recommendations? Or start seeing someone?”
“None of those. I’m saying that you have a free, less awkward option right here,” he points one finger at himself. “Me.”
All thoughts eject from your mind. You search for any trace of Jungwoo’s unpredictable humor, but his face is dead serious. He leans toward you calmly, and his brown eyes bore into you without breaking eye contact.
“I–what?” You try to maintain your composure, but you’re completely and utterly baffled. “How on earth would that benefit you in any way?”
“Well, you’re one of my best friends, and I shouldn’t need a reason to help you–”
“Oh hush,” You roll your eyes. “You’re nice, but you’re not that nice. Not even to me. What do you get out of this?”
He swipes through his camera roll before turning his phone around to show you a picture of his invitation from Doyoung. His response card looks identical to yours, down to the space for a guest of choice.
“You’re not the only victim of Doyoung’s matchmaking service,” he says with grim amusement. “He’s been on my ass ever since Kaia and I broke up.”
You wince. Kaia is Jungwoo’s ex-girlfriend of two years; their breakup was mutual, but the forced proximity in a wedding had to be awkward. Kaia is a bridesmaid while Jungwoo is a groomsman, and their relationship was the entire reason why Doyoung had met his fiancee in the first place.
“Sorry, I didn’t even mention it. How are you feeling about the wedding party situation?” You ask.
Jungwoo shrugs. “We didn’t have a bad breakup, and we broke up a while ago. I just want to attend in peace without the pressure of being pushed to date strangers. I’m in the same situation as you.”
He’s right. You’re in the same, Doyoung-generated predicament. “...So in this case, we’d both leave our plus one space blank, RSVP, and then launch our supposed relationship to our friends over the next three months?”
Jungwoo nods. “Everyone’s nosy, so we should probably start telling people a month before. Unless Doyoung asks why our RSVPs don’t have a plus one listed, then we’ll have to tell him first. We’re both going early for pre-wedding activities, and we know all of the same people. We just have to make it believable.”
“Yeah, we know all of the same people,” you repeat his earlier point back to him. “Don’t you think that will make it harder for them to believe that we suddenly got together?”
You’re expecting another jab in your verbal spar, but Jungwoo reaches for your hand instead.
“We’ve been meeting consistently for the past six months for the first time since college,” his voice lowers. “After all this time, it made me re-evaluate the easy chemistry that’s always existed between us, so I asked you out on a date.”
Jungwoo raises your hand so that it hovers right beneath his lips. Your heartbeat flies up to your throat, threatening to choke you as his breath warms your skin and his gaze freezes you in place. You’re transfixed by the suddenness, by the intensity.
He presses a soft kiss to the top of your hand, leaving tingles at the site of contact. Then, he shoots you a shit-eating grin. “And then you can tell everyone that you fell for me after I left you in the dust during every workout class.”
The spell breaks. You yank your hand back and rub circles around the center, as if he burned you. “If you tell everyone that’s the reason, then you’ll have to start attending all of these classes by yourself.”
He raises his eyebrows. “So that’s a yes?”
You pause. Did you want to do this?
At the end of the day, you just want to attend this wedding in peace. As much as you complain about Doyoung’s antics, you wouldn’t miss his wedding for the world. Jungwoo is someone who you can be your true self around, and you know that, despite his silly exterior, he is incredibly loyal and thoughtful. You trust him with your life, and you definitely trust him to take care of you during that wedding weekend.
You hold out your hand. “It’s a yes. Gym bro tryhard.”
“Looking forward to it,” he shakes your hand. “Spin class slowpoke.”
“Pilates princess.”
“Anti-pilates punk.”
“I want a conversation on overall boundaries before we go,” you assert, still shaking his hand.
At this, he smiles. “Of course. Let’s book our flights first and regroup later.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
1 MONTH BEFORE THE WEDDING
Later ends up being a strategy meeting conducted on your living room floor a month before the wedding and the night before Jungwoo happens to have a planned dinner with Doyoung.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” Jungwoo asks.
“Yes,” you say without hesitation. You’ve had a lot of time to think about it, and now you’re convinced. Jungwoo might be the only one you can pull this off with.
“Alright, so what’s our story?” Jungwoo grins at you. “Since I’m guessing we’re not using the other one I came up with.”
“Definitely not the part you were thinking of,” you glare at him. “...but maybe we could use some of it?”
As much as your pride refuses to let your close friends believe that you suck at all fitness classes, not all of Jungwoo’s original idea was bad.
“Like you said, this is our first time seeing each other consistently since college,” you continue slowly. “Something could’ve developed. That’s the only non-dramatic explanation they’ll believe for how we’ve been able to hide it up until this point.”
He nods. “And what should we tell people our first date was?”
You think for a moment. While you and Jungwoo are decent liars, you’d have to think on your feet to fool the entire group. That meant keeping your lies consistent and memorable enough to maintain continuity…
“Karaoke,” you finally say. You can’t help the evil smile that spreads across your face. “We went back to karaoke.”
Jungwoo throws his head in his hands and groans. “God, you’re the worst.”
It’s a call back the two of you know well–in many ways, your current friendship is the result of Doyoung’s first matchmaking attempt. Convinced that you and Jungwoo would have “mindblowing chemistry,” he persuaded all other attendees to exit the room one by one during his birthday party. Both of you, hammered and firmly engaged in a karaoke competition to get the highest score, did not notice until everyone else was long, long gone.
You remember it as a fond memory of how Jungwoo became one of your best friends. Jungwoo remembers it as when he got so embarrassingly drunk that you had to haul him out of the room on your back.
“Well, you won’t forget it, right?” You laugh. “We’ll say that we’re just seeing where things go. We know each other well enough that we can just go from there.”
“And…” Jungwoo looks hesitant, but he speaks anyway. “About PDA…I’m guessing it would be best if that was off the table.”
“Not necessarily off the table, per se…”
You’re so lost in thought that you completely miss Jungwoo’s wide eyes and red cheeks.
“Hugging and general touching is fine…it’s not like we’ve never hugged before. The only thing I can’t decide,” you swallow. “Is if I’m okay with kissing.”
It’s a little embarrassing to admit out loud, but you haven’t been in a relationship in so long. The idea of receiving your first kiss in forever from a fake relationship depresses you.
Jungwoo, having recovered his composure, crosses his arms as he thinks. “This is going to sound weird, but would you want to practice? Just once, to see if you could even do it without freaking out?”
“Just me?” You challenge him. “You think you’ll be all cool and collected?”
He shrugs. “Only one way to find out, no?”
It’s here, being (respectfully) propositioned by your best friend, that you feel your heart flip against your will. It’s not appreciated.
Despite that, you’re curious. Could you be that good of an actor? “Let’s try,” you hear yourself say.
He squares his shoulders with yours and leans forward. You shut your eyes tightly and brace for impact.
One second. Two seconds. Finally, you feel warm lips press to your cheek.
Your eyes flutter open. “What–”
Jungwoo’s face hovers directly in front of yours, the tips of your noses just barely brushing together. You’re so close that his breath tickles your lips.
“I’m going to do it for real now,” he whispers.
He’s barely moved when you put up your hand as a barrier between you. Jungwoo’s lips press to your palm instead.
“I don’t think I could fake something like this,” you say quietly.
He pulls away immediately, the same big smile that you know making its way to his face. “No problem. It’s good for us to know our limits before everything starts.”
You feel the vague need to apologize, but you shake it off. If Jungwoo wasn’t offended, then you shouldn’t feel weird about it…right? Why do you get the sense that something feels different?
Jungwoo immediately launches into another topic, facial features relaxed like nothing happened, but you feel the almost-kiss haunting you in the back of your mind.
It’s just because I’m out of practice, you think. You let yourself believe it. The next kiss I have will be for real.
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
DAY 1 - THE WELCOME PARTY
The bustle and chatter of the airport sends a rush of adrenaline through you. Your hands feel clammy, but you’re not sure if it’s from the summer heat or the nerves surrounding the weekend ahead of you.
“This is your last chance to back out,” you warn Jungwoo.
Jungwoo glances up from his phone, a dumbfounded look on his face. “It’s a little late for that. Everyone already knows we’re ‘together.’”
Jungwoo’s plan had worked flawlessly; Doyoung had spread the news like wildfire. It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours until the others had started blowing up your phone with question after question.
“I don’t know, we can say that we decided to just be friends,” you insist, stubborn.
Jungwoo sighs. “So you do want Doyoung to set us up with other people out of pity?”
“No,” you mumble.
Your best-friend-turned-fake-boyfriend rolls his eyes. “That’s what I thought. Now come on, Johnny’s already waiting.”
Johnny is simultaneously the best and worst person to interface with first. Fooling Johnny means you can fool just about anyone; there’s hardly anyone else who knows you both as well as him. However, that also meant that Johnny would be the most likely one to sense any bullshit.
He leans against a rental car, reaching out his arms to catch you in a hug. “Long time no see!”
Johnny and Jungwoo hug next, and Johnny takes a long look at the two of you after they separate. “...Ready for the best weekend ever?”
“As ready as we’ll ever be,” you shrug, reaching for the handle of your suitcase.
Jungwoo’s hand closes over yours, prying off your grip gently. “Let me get it, honey.”
Your hand freezes in place as your brain stutters at being called honey, but then you quickly recover. “Thanks,” you say as you allow him to lift your bag. “...Honey.”
“Gross,” Johnny snorts.
“Shut up,” you glare at him as Jungwoo also takes the opportunity to open your door for you.
Johnny shrugs and climbs into the driver’s seat.
“So,” Johnny says after you’ve closed the door behind you and Jungwoo is out of earshot. “You and Jungwoo, huh?”
The latter lugs your bags around the car and into the trunk. Despite yourself, you smile. “Yeah, me and Jungwoo.” You slide your eyes back to your driver, who smirks at you. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“No reason,” he says without dropping his grin. “Just happy to see you happy, that’s all.”
There’s an undercurrent of amused secrecy in his eyes, but you don’t press further. With Johnny, it could be anything.
“Okay,” Jungwoo calls while letting himself into the backseat. “We’re all good to go.”
“Anything we should know before the welcome party?” You ask as Johnny starts the car. It’s strange, referring to your fake duo as we, but it feels fitting.
“Everything should go as expected,” Johnny says. “A lot of people are curious about the two of you, though.”
“Really?” You ask. “It’s already been a month since we started telling people.”
“Well, duh. You guys have been best friends for seven years, were nearly attached at the hip during college, and now you decide to start something?” Johnny rolls his eyes. “Of course we’re curious.”
You’re about to argue again, but Jungwoo speaks first. “Is everything else going to plan, event wise?”
“Well, about that,” Johnny grins. “I may have to put you guys to work first.”
–
The room intended for the welcome dinner is completely devoid of, well, anything save for the chairs and tables propped up against the walls.
You and Jungwoo stare at Johnny, jaws dropped, while still dragging your luggage behind you.
“What time is dinner, again?” You ask, but you’re afraid to know the answer.
“6:30PM.”
You check the time on your phone. 5:30PM. You immediately start dragging chairs from off the wall.
“I’ll drop our stuff off in our room first,” Jungwoo mutters. “Unless you’d rather do it?”
“I can stay here,” you say with a chair in each hand.
He nods and rolls all of your things away. Ideally, you would’ve wanted to scope out your room—it was apparent during your scheming that a shared room would be unavoidable, for obvious reasons, but it would be nice to see what you’re working with.
You and Johnny get to work, dragging chairs across the floor and staggering tables throughout the length of the room.
“You’re lucky that Jungwoo’s been dragging my ass to work out,” you grumble. Your muscles are already tightening from the increased load. “Otherwise I’d be even less help.”
“Some pre-wedding conditioning and true love, eh?” Johnny wiggles his eyebrows. “Cosmic timing.”
Your face burns despite knowing it’s a joke. Leave it to Johnny to prod right where you’ll be embarrassed. You wish Jungwoo was here to come up with a reply. He was much more adept at thinking on his feet with Johnny; the latter had a way of always clocking others without thinking too hard about it.
“Think the others will be pissed that they didn’t hear from one of us first?” You ask, nerves suddenly kicking in. You’d thought letting the gossip train do the heavy lifting was more conducive for your overall mental health and story consistency, but now you’re not so sure.
“Nah, you’re fine. I think.” Johnny pauses. “Although, we should go out to bars or something together as a group. It’s been too long. Maybe tomorrow? There’s nothing concrete planned.”
“That’s a little close to the wedding day, don’t you think?” You know that Doyoung had his bachelor party a couple of weeks ago, so there’s no need for the guys to go too crazy.
He shrugs. “We’re only going to be on the coast all together for Doyoung’s wedding once. What’s the harm in a few drinks?”
“What was that about drinks?” Jungwoo’s voice rings from behind you.
“You were up there for a while.” You peer at him from over your shoulder. “Is everything alright with the room?”
“Oh, the room?” He runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It’s fine.”
You stare at him, trying to catch his eye, but his eyes seem to bounce in every possible direction except yours. You don’t believe Jungwoo in the slightest, but you let it go. “...Johnny was saying that we should hit up the bars tomorrow.”
Jungwoo busies himself with setting up the tablecloths. “Sounds good to me.”
Fifteen minutes before the planned start time, Doyoung finally shows up and throws his arms around all three of you.
“Thank you guys for saving me,” he says with a relieved exhale. “Everyone else will be here soon.”
“Everything looks great,” you smile.
It’s meant to be a reassuring gesture, but your words instead cause him to register that it’s not just you and Jungwoo, his friends helping out–it’s you and Jungwoo, the totally real couple debuting at his wedding.
Doyoung clamps a hand on you and Jungwoo’s shoulders with a sentimental sniffle. “I always knew that the two of you would be amazing together.”
Jungwoo rolls his eyes. “Oh brother.”
Your eye twitches. “You thought that we would always be an amazing couple even as you tried to set us up with total strangers?”
“Pfft,” Johnny laughs, enjoying every second.
“So what, maybe some things needed to fail so this could succeed,” Doyoung shoots back. “Then you can’t really say any of your past relationships or blind dates were a waste.”
“Sure we can,” Jungwoo responds in a fake-cheerful tone. “It was all a waste.”
“Enough arguing,” a voice snaps from behind you. “We only have ten minutes, and we still have to bring the food in.”
Taeyong stands at the door, arms crossed over his chest. Behind him is the rest of the wedding party, including the bridesmaids.
Jaehyun waves next to him. “Catering just showed up.”
You can’t even get excited at seeing your old friends again because you’re rooted to the spot. You look over at Jungwoo’s expression, which freezes with the same realization as you.
Standing among the bridesmaids is Jungwoo’s ex-girlfriend, Kaia, who has presumably just heard Jungwoo call all of his past relationships a waste. Her face is even and cool, but the rest of the girls split between glaring at Jungwoo or avoiding eye contact altogether.
Ironically, it’s also Kaia that breaks the awkward pause first. “Jaehyun’s right, and we need some extra hands to unload. Can I have half of the group unloading and the other half to help finish setting up the tables?”
Everyone breaks, eager to get away from the awkward atmosphere. The groups naturally divide into the groomsmen (plus you) heading outside to unload, while the bridal party stay inside.
Before you follow the others you give Kaia a half hug. Despite their current status as exes, you’d gotten along well with Kaia during their relationship “Nice to see you.”
“Same here,” she says, but her smile stops just short of her eyes.
You nod and head towards the exit. Distantly, you hear Jungwoo start to greet Kaia on his own, but you hurry out before you can hear anything.
“That was fucked up,” you say to Jaehyun outside before pulling him into a hug. “Hi, by the way.”
“It’ll be alright,” Jaehyun shrugs. “I feel like most people know what he meant.”
“Yeah, but me being there also looks pretty bad. Like we’re rubbing it in her face.”
He shrugs again. “People will see what they want to see, right?.”
It’s a weird and aloof response, even coming from someone as succinct as Jaehyun. You squint at him. “Did Jungwoo tell you something?”
Of course, you mean something along the lines of Did Jungwoo tell you that this whole thing is fake? You give up when Jaehyun shrugs for the third time. “He tells me a lot of stuff.”
You don’t have time for this; you’ll just ask Jungwoo directly later. If Jungwoo was to tell anyone at this wedding, it would be Jaehyun. He’s the only one of the group who could keep a secret of this magnitude; the others are far too nosy. While you were close enough with Jaehyun, most of the closeness was derived from him being Jungwoo’s college housemate. No matter how well the two of you got along, Jaehyun’s loyalty to Jungwoo would always supersede his fondness of you.
You’re expecting the same outright curiosity that Johnny had while picking you up from the airport, but all further conversation seems to avoid the subject entirely. You’re both confused and grateful; you’re glad that you can actually enjoy your time catching up with your friends, but you expected at least some level of questioning.
After all of the unloading and initial mingling, you eventually find Jungwoo again once everyone is seated for dinner.
“How was your conversation with Kaia?” You ask quietly.
“Fine,” he says under his breath. “She wasn’t super thrilled about what I said in front of everyone, but she knows what I meant and where I’m coming from.”
You wait for him to share more–he’d talked to her for a long time, after all–but he stops there. You resist the urge to prompt him further; it’s really none of your business.
“Hey everyone,” Doyoung waves from the front of the room. “I’m just going to say a few things and make a quick toast.”
All of the guests, including yourself, raise their glasses in the air. There’s a few rogue cheers from your side of the room.
“I just want to thank everyone for coming out and traveling to celebrate with us this weekend. Every person here is very important to us either as individuals or within our journey as a couple, and we’re already grateful for all of the support we’ve received leading up to this…”
Jungwoo leans over to you. “Do you think he’s going to cry?”
“For sure,” you whisper back. “His eyes are already misty.”
The two of you spend the rest of his speech waiting in anticipation of Doyoung’s tears; you’re rewarded at the very end when he raises his glass and a single tear runs down his cheek.
“To this weekend,” he says, raising a champagne flute.
“To this weekend,” people repeat, raising their own glasses.
“To this weekend,” Jungwoo says to you directly, his eyebrows raised. You feel a flush of heat up your neck, and you rush to sip your drink.
The rest of the dinner goes by in a blur. Sure, you’re pulled into a few conversations here and there, but everything is rightfully focused on the happy couple.
Like before, you get the sneaking suspicion that no one wants to outright ask about your supposed relationship. You notice many more subtle indicators–catching someone staring from across the room, or a whisper when Jungwoo places his hand on the small of your back to guide you around tight corners.
You’re definitely being observed, but luckily you don’t have to alter many of your pre-existing habits with Jungwoo anyway. When you really think about it, aside from answering specific questions about your relationship, it all feels relatively normal.
You’re there up until the end, when it’s just you and the wedding party putting away all the furniture.
Once all of the big things have been put away, Johnny nearly shoves you out of the door.
“You’ve done enough,” he says. “See you guys at bars tomorrow?”
You’re about to insist on staying to help, but Jungwoo nods and takes your hand in his. “We’ll be there.”
Reluctantly, you let him pull you out of the room and into the elevator.
“I could’ve helped,” you mumble.
“I know,” he says as he presses the button to your floor. “But you look exhausted. We helped enough earlier. They have way more people now, so we’re not really needed anymore.”
It’s blunt, but you don’t protest. Your body is coming down from being awake and active for so long; you slouch against Jungwoo while squeezing his hand to anchor yourself.
The elevator dings and the doors open in front of you. Jungwoo leads you to the second door in the hallway and hesitates. He finally drops your hand.
“What’s wrong?” You tilt your head. “Did you forget the key inside?”
“No–um, there’s something I should tell you before we go inside,” Jungwoo says, sliding himself in between you and the door. “The room–”
You stare at him. “I don’t care, Woos.” After a long day of travelling, manual labor, and then socializing with small talk, you can barely keep your eyes open. “Let me in.”
“No but really, I didn’t have time, and you can look at it first, but maybe we should request a room change–”
“Unless it’s unsanitary, nothing can be that big a deal. We’ve shared a room before!” You don’t know what he has to be embarrassed about; you don’t care if there’s one bed or even if there’s two sleeping bags on the floor as long as you can sleep within the next half an hour.
“I just–ugh, fine!” He throws up his hands, allowing you to swipe your copy of the room key and push through the door. You don’t make it far, stopping just after the entryway.
For one thing, there’s definitely two beds. Sure, they’re pushed together to make what’s effectively a frankenstein-esque king bed, but it’s more than big enough to fit two. It’s everything else in the room that makes your jaw drop to the floor.
The walls are painted with artwork of various marine life with a nice baby blue backdrop. There’s a fish tank centered on the wall with real exotic fish that you hope are legal. It’s completely over the top, but the sea motif is the most consistent theme in the entire space. What’s out of place are the two large mirrors; one hanging on the oceanic wall next to the fish tank and the other on the ceiling directly above the beds.
“What on earth is this theming,” you mutter, walking into the room toward the foot of the franken-bed. Rose petals are scattered all around the room and arranged on the bedsheets themselves to spell out the word LOVE surrounded by a huge heart.
“By the logic of the tank being placed right by this mirror,” You look at your reflection in the big mirror. “Are the fish supposed to watch or something?”
“You’re feeling awfully funny right now,” Jungwoo says under his breath. His face is bright red.
“It’s pretty funny.” You start picking the rose petals off the sheets one-by-one. “I’m surprised that you didn’t keep it a secret and film my reaction.”
Jungwoo floats into the bathroom to get ready for bed. “I knew that the welcome dinner could be tiring for you, so I didn’t want the room to make things feel weird.”
You follow his lead, unpacking your things and locating the items needed for your nighttime routine.
Did things feel weird? You had spent the better part of the day pretending to be infatuated with your best friend, and the sentiment seemed to be bleeding into the room’s theme itself. The theme, however strange and too aquatic-themed, was clearly intended for couples.
Despite the situation, you’re able to shake it off. Jungwoo, on the other hand, stays silent as you both brush your teeth, and he doesn’t speak even as you both crawl under the sheets of your respective beds. A soft feeling of guilt rushes through you; you wonder if you were too quick to take him at his word when he offered to be your fake boyfriend for the weekend.
“Goodnight,” you say softly.
“Goodnight,” he says as you turn off the lights.
There’s still a faint blue glow in the room from the mini aquarium in the wall. You lay on your back, eyes wandering into the mirror above the bed. Jungwoo rustles and turns onto his back next to you, both of you startling when your eyes connect in the mirror.
It’s enough to break the tension as you both devolve into a fit of giggles.
“Today went well,” he mutters, turning his head to actually look at you. “You did a good job.”
“Thanks, I think.” The praise makes you feel a little embarrassed, so you change the subject. “Today wasn’t weird at all from my end, at least. I just wonder if I’ve made a mistake, asking you to do all of this for me.”
“I’m the one who told you to choose me over some rando,” He props himself up, resting his head on one hand. “You’re not the only one benefitting from this, anyway. I don’t mind talking more when the questions get invasive.”
“Thanks, Woos,” you say, eyes closing, as you can no longer fight your exhaustion. “You’re crazy for doing this with me, but you’re the best.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” you hear him say as you drift off into sleep. “I’d do anything for you, really.”
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
DAY 2 - BARS
The next day, Johnny and Taeyong manage to convince everyone to make it out to the bars. The hotel is a drive away from any nightlife with no rideshare options available; your group ends up splitting into two cars with you and Jungwoo as the drivers.
Jungwoo volunteers to drive Doyoung to pick up the non-groomsmen–Yuta, Mark, and Haechan–straight from the airport, so your car ends up being Johnny, Taeyong, and Jaehyun. They heckle you for nearly the entire drive there.
“Do you and Jungwoo have pet names for each other?” Taeyong teases.
“They do,” Johnny fake-grimaces. “Honey.”
“I’ll drop you both on the side of the road if you’re not careful,” you snap.
“I’m actually curious, though,” Taeyong says while crossing his arms. “What made you realize it was time to try?”
You hesitate; in all possible scenarios of being asked this question, you’d always focused on Jungwoo being the one to make the supposed first move. However, there were presumably two people in this relationship, and you hadn’t thought far ahead enough to formulate an answer in advance. Put on the spot, you start thinking of what you did feel when Jungwoo offered to be your boyfriend for the weekend.
“I…I was surprised when he asked me out,” you start. “Honestly, I didn’t see it going there.”
The others nod and wait for you to finish.
“It’s just easy with him,” you rush through the words. Even as a backstory for a fake relationship, it doesn’t feel any less embarrassing to say out loud. “So I gave it a chance.”
There’s a pause before Taeyong speaks. “Makes sense. It’s always been easy with you two.”
The group is quiet as you search for a parking spot. Your palms are clammy on top of the wheel; you wonder if your explanation wasn’t good enough. Wouldn’t anyone be more excited to gush about a supposed fresh relationship?
You find a spot right next to Jungwoo’s rental car, although you have no idea how they beat you here. Johnny and Taeyong climb out of the car. Their voices raise in excitement as they head toward the bar entrance. Jaehyun lingers behind, opening and closing your door for you.
“It’s a good thing,” he says.
You raise your eyebrows. “...It’s good that I drove?”
Jaehyun shakes his head. “That you gave him a chance. It’s good for both of you, and it’s not that surprising, anyway.”
A man of few words, he heads toward the bar without anything further to say. You follow behind, more confused than before–maybe Jaehyun is just as much in the dark as the others.
The atmosphere shifts instantly upon entering; the room is filled with various different celebrations, from birthdays to bachelorette parties. The group in Jungwoo’s car has flooded one of the larger tables in the corner. In the short time spent waiting for the other half of the group, they’ve been able to order an assortment of alcohol spread across the entirety of the table.
You sidle over to Jungwoo’s side, who hovers at the very end. “Did you even try to get them to hold back?”
“You know they wouldn’t,” he mutters back. “They were all practically rioting in my car earlier.”
He’s right. What your friend group lacks in common interests you make up for with a few shared qualities: loyalty, ambition, and unwavering stubbornness. When any majority somehow manages to form, going against the group opinion evolves into an all-out war.
Tonight’s group mission is united without having to speak: get Doyoung as drunk as possible. They’re pulling out all the stops: group shots, drinking games, and giving him a hard time for slowing down. You’ve never been so grateful to be a designated driver; if you and Jungwoo weren’t behind the wheel, you’re sure that your new relationship would’ve generated additional targets on your backs. Instead, everything devolves in front of your eyes in real time as you watch everyone else get shit-faced.
Not that staying sober really helps Jungwoo’s case. As always, he contributes to the mayhem by joking and messing around with the others.
You don’t hear how it starts, but you do hear Jungwoo’s frustrated tone cutting through the music.
“You realize how ridiculous you sound, right?” He argues. “I literally drove you here.”
Haechan dangles his beer in the area. “I’m just saying you should enjoy one beer to toast Doyoung.”
“You know I can’t.”
“You can’t because what, again?” Haechan cups a hand to his ear dramatically. He winks when his eyes connect with yours.
You roll your eyes at the theatrics. You’d volunteered to drive because you didn’t feel like drinking tonight, but everyone knew why Jungwoo had offered right after you. One drink turned his face beet red, and three held the very real possibility of sending him on his ass.
Jungwoo doesn’t take the obvious bait. “I’m seriously considering making you walk back to the hotel.”
“I’ll steal the keys before you can try,” Haechan sticks his tongue out.
“You should arm wrestle for it,” Johnny offers while taking a sip of his beer. The corners of his mouth curve upward. “If Jungwoo wins, Haechan has to walk back.”
“What if I win?” The latter complains.
“How about we don’t make anyone walk back drunk,” Mark interjects. Uneasiness laces his voice.
You lose track of the conversation as Johnny and Mark talk about fair punishments while Jungwoo and Haechan continue their argument.
You look to the peaceful side of the group. Yuta has floated to the other end of the space to compliment someone on their outfit, and Jaehyun scrolls on his phone while nursing a drink.
Throughout the chaos, one question pops into your head: where did Doyoung go?
You do a precursory glance around the room, but you don’t see his face popping out in the crowd. You text him first, but you grow antsy after your texts go unanswered for ten minutes. Leaving the others to their own devices, you begin to turn around the space.
You finally find Doyoung sitting at a different corner table by himself with his head in his hands. You glance around for any of the guys, but you’ve lost sight of all them.
“Hey,” you say, sliding into the chair next to him. “You feeling okay?”
“I’m tired!” he complains over the music.
“Of course you are,” you say back. Doyoung’s never been one for a long night out. “We can leave when we go back to everyone else.” It’s an empty promise–you would love to return to the hotel, but you doubt the others will let him get away that easily.
He eyes you, now registering the lack of a certain someone. “Why isn’t Jungwoo with you?”
You shrug. “Same reason why your fiancee isn’t here. We don’t have to be together all the time.”
“Yeah, but the two of you are usually together,” he points out. “Even before. That’s why I was surprised that it took you two this long to be together.”
At this point, you can’t resist asking. “Everyone keeps saying something like that. What made everyone so certain that we were going to get together?”
“You guys have always just gotten along since day one,” Doyoung shrugs. “It was the easiest connection ever.”
You stare at him. “You realize you were the one to abandon us in a karaoke room together, right?”
He throws up his hands. “It was my birthday, so you can’t blame me.”
“As you love to remind me. Either way, I wouldn’t call that an easy, natural connection.”
“If you want the real answer?” Doyoung continues. “It always made sense. You were always the one denying the attraction, so that was the only real boundary holding you guys back this entire time.”
Everything stops. “What do you mean by that?”
He scowls. “What, he hasn’t told you–?”
“There you guys are!” Johnny and Taeyong nearly leap over to you. Johnny tugs you back to your feet. Taeyong tries to get Doyoung on his, but the latter fights back.
“I wanna leave!” He shouts.
“We can leave after Jungwoo and Haechan finish their last game,” Taeyong says.
That catches your attention. “...Game?”
Sure enough, Jungwoo and Haechan’s argument has escalated from arm wrestling into a gauntlet of dumb party games, and now the two have run through the various materials available in the corner of the bar.
The others decided the tie breaker via majority vote, which is how your entire group ends up circled around the most intense game of Jenga ever.
The two stack wooden blocks as if they’re architects. The level of care in itself extends the game for much longer than it should be.
You lean over to Johnny. “Did they settle on a punishment for Jungwoo?”
“They just said Doyoung would decide,” he responds back. “So good luck with that.”
On cue, Jungwoo’s hand slips while placing his block, and the entire tower tumbles down.
“I get a ride back!” Haechan cheers. “You lose, Doyoung chooses!” He drags Mark with him around the perimeter of the bar for a victory lap.
You think that’s it, time to go back, until Doyoung starts shouting over the music.
“You lost the bet!” Doyoung points his finger in Jungwoo’s face. “Shot! Shot! Shot!”
“Again, not an option,” Jungwoo flicks his finger away. “I’m one of your drivers, dummy.”
You’re laughing at the interaction, amused, until Doyoung points his finger in your face. “Fine, then kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
“What the fuck?” You shriek, but the sound is covered by Johnny and Taeyong joining in with the chant. Jaehyun doesn’t participate, but there’s a ghost of a smile on his face.
Jungwoo squares his shoulders to yours. His expression is carefully crafted; calm enough to conceal the awkwardness of the situation to the others while just neutral enough to be unreadable to you. For once, you have no idea what Jungwoo is thinking.
He leans forward, stopping only for a second in front of you.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers before pressing his lips to yours.
He tastes like tea with a hint of citrus. Jungwoo’s lips move against yours with care, as if you’re something fragile at risk of breaking; you hear wolf whistles as you kiss him back.
Kissing Jungwoo is nothing like you expected. It’s as if all of the day-to-day attitude he exhibits with you–lighthearted and easygoing–has been completely flipped on its head. His left arm holds your waist with a firm confidence, and you’re quickly swept away by the intensity.
His right hand cradles your jaw, and you grasp at his shirt to steady yourself. You end up needing the extra stability; you stumble when he finally pulls away. You catch your breath with gulps of air and press the backs of your hands to your cheeks. The skin is hot to the touch, and you appreciate the dim lights of the bar to at least partially mask your expression.
Jungwoo looks as dazed as you feel, with his lips slightly parted and his eyes unfocused. “I–”
“You know I hate PDA!” You spin around and punch Doyoung’s shoulder. “You’re lucky we’re here to celebrate you!”
“Sorry, sorry! I knew you’d hate it.” He laughs through the punches. “ But it’s not really a punishment, anyway.”
Taeyong succeeds with roping everyone else into a final drink before leaving. When it’s finally time to go, the guys exit the bar whooping and shoving each other. You and Jungwoo linger at the back of the group.
“Are you okay?” He asks so only you can hear.
Your lips still tingle from the kiss. Your heart skips a beat as you catch another hint of citrus. Jungwoo’s shoulder brushes against yours with each step; the proximity makes your thoughts scatter wildly.
“I’m fine,” you say as you take a step back.
He frowns. “Even if you’re not–”
“Unlock the car!” Haechan and Doyoung boo from the side of Jungwoo’s rental car.
“Looks like you’re needed.” You exhale in a half-laugh. “Don’t worry about me. We’ll talk later, okay?”
The passengers in your car are much more self-contained. They’re definitely drunk, but they’re less rowdy and more content. You hand Johnny the aux and turn the volume way up to minimize the risk of any chatter.
Despite being sober, you’re completely overwhelmed. From the group chaos to the kiss to what feels like everyone this weekend commenting on how much you and Jungwoo make sense–your head spins around and around.
You’d expected to be fighting for your life during this whole experience, but, aside from the awkwardness from Kaia’s presence, everything’s gone by extremely smoothly. Your entire group, while teasing you, has taken this sudden relationship in good spirits. Sure, there had been questions initially, but your answers have been received without many questions. Definitely less than you’d expected. Why is no one that surprised?
You beat Jungwoo to the room, and a short check-in over the group chat confirms that his entire car is currently taking care of drunk Doyoung.
You get ready for bed with unprecedented speed. By the time Jungwoo cracks the door open, you’re nestled under the covers with your eyes closed.
You’re not asleep, of course, but you try to relax your breathing in a believable way. You’re not ready to face him yet. Jungwoo has a sixth sense for when something’s bothering you, and right now he’ll take one look at you and start getting concerned.
Your skin prickles with goosebumps as he settles in the bed next to yours, but you merely roll onto your other side as if turning in your sleep. You force yourself to stay quiet, even as he whispers a goodnight in the space between you.
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
DAY 3 - BEACH BOMBSHELL
You wake up the next morning to rustling in the bed next to you. You peek an eye open, seeing Jungwoo’s side profile in the slight morning glow as he sits up.
“Leaving?” You mumble through heavy eyelids.
“Going on a run before heading over to meet the guys,” he says. He pats the top of your head and tucks a rogue baby hair away from your forehead. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”
The next time you wake up, the room feels large and open around you. Judging from the bright light leaking through the curtains, you’ve slept in past noon. Jungwoo made his bed perfectly; aside from the faint scent of citrus lingering in the room, it’s like he was never there in the first place.
Your phone reminds you that he was, as there’s a text waiting for you: heading to the beach after lunch. Wanna come?
Sure, you respond. I just woke up, though.
Take your time, comes the response.
You blink away the bleariness in your eyes and roll out of bed. You will yourself through your morning (now technically afternoon) routine, elongating each step as you go. You hesitate while applying your makeup. Should you try to look like you’ve put in no effort at all, or should you go for a full face?
Your reflection stares back at you in the mirror, and you shake yourself out of it. Why were you even thinking about this? There’s nothing wedding-related planned today–you know that Jungwoo has a rehearsal dinner due to being in the wedding party, but that leaves you with a fully free day. And today, you’re doing nothing more than spending the afternoon with your best friend.
As if he can hear your internal agony, your phone vibrates with another message from Jungwoo.
Attachment: 1 Image
You tap on the message without thinking. Then, your jaw drops.
It’s a selfie in the reflection of whatever window Jungwoo’s found himself in front of. His phone hovers in front, obscuring the bottom half of his face. Jungwoo’s shoulders contrast the various blues in the background, showing off golden hints of a tan. Even though his posture slouches forward, you can clearly see the defined outline of muscle down his arms.
Another text whooshes into your chat: kinda hot out, but the water is nice :) can you bring sunscreen?
Your heart stutters in your chest. The water is the last thing that you’re thinking about right now. You can’t tear your eyes off of the picture–every detail, every curve of skin seems to burn itself into your brain.
Throughout the years, there’d been no shortage of people interested in Jungwoo. Enough people had looked to you specifically as a wingman, which seemed like a no-brainer. You were the longtime best friend with no previous or current romantic interest in him.
It’s like a switch has flipped within your mind. You’ve literally seen his physique develop before your eyes this year, but now you inspect his muscle definition with newfound curiosity. His hands holding his phone remind you of his gentle touches on your waist and jaw. Even when you look at his hair, unstyled and messy, you wonder if it’s as soft as it looks. After all, you hadn’t had the chance to touch it last night.
Your phone turns off from the inactivity, which leaves a black screen reflecting your stupified face back at you. It’s enough to ground you back to where you are: standing in front of the bathroom mirror with your phone in one hand and makeup brush in the other.
You slap the rest of your makeup on your face and slide into your swimsuit and beach outfit before rushing out the door.
You lean against the back of the elevator, mind racing. Trying to unpack the kiss had kept you tossing and turning last night, and now it was interfering with your ability to think straight.
It’s only a fifteen minute walk down to the beach. The water is as blue and clear as the afternoon sky above, and the sand warms the bottom of your feet as you trek toward Jungwoo’s location. Despite the unsettled feelings swirling around in your gut, the salty breeze relaxes your shoulders and leads you toward a sense of peace. It’s a welcome refuge from the past couple of days.
Jungwoo lays back in a folding chair on the sand with a hat covering his face from the sun. The rest of his body splays out in the open in all of its tanned glory.
It’s a completely normal beach look consisting of only blue and white striped swim trunks, but you fight back embarrassment as you hold out a bottle of sunscreen. “As requested.”
“Thank god.” He squints up at you. “It’s so hot, isn’t it?”
His abs ripple as he sits up to grab the sunscreen.
“Yeah,” you say while looking away. “Super hot.”
You focus instead on the other beachgoers. There’s plenty of people lounging around, but closer to the waves there’s no shortage of kids playing in the sand or people playing frisbee with their dogs. It’s enough to make you feel at ease without feeling overwhelmed by a crowd.
Without the weekend’s social pressure, you can finally appreciate the natural beauty of your location. It’s breathtaking enough in its natural state with the blue waters juxtaposing the white sands – you’re sure that Doyoung’s ceremony will be absolutely stunning.
A cool sensation on your shoulder causes goosebumps to raise on your forearms, and you shudder at the contact. It’s just a dollop of sunscreen, and Jungwoo grins behind you.
“I told you it’s nice out here.” He says as he hands you the bottle.
Your nose wrinkles. “What if I already applied before coming down?”
“Did you?”
“No,” you say as you squirt a generous amount into your hands and apply across your body. “But I could’ve.”
“I knew you wouldn’t,” he says. “If I’ve learned anything from the past couple of days, it’s that you get ready super slowly.”
He’s got you there. You conveniently ignore him and focus your efforts into attempting to apply sunscreen on your back. You do decently well until your mobility fails to let you progress past your traps.
Jungwoo holds back laughter as he witnesses your struggle. “Want some help?”
“Sure,” you grumble while crossing your arms over your chest.
His hands are surprisingly cool for being outside in the sun. Jungwoo applies light pressure as he pats sunscreen from your shoulders down the length of your back. Your breath catches as he brushes near the curve of your neck; you pray that he didn’t notice.
“Alright!” He says as he tosses the bottle aside. “Now the real fun begins!”
You’re about to ask what real fun entails when you turn and see a pair of goggles over his forehead.
“I am not diving or snorkeling right now,” you say.
“That’s fine,” he shrugs. A mischievous glint enters his eyes, and without warning he takes your hand in his and drags you out toward the water. “Still making you come out with me, though!”
You’re resisting his pull, but Jungwoo’s hand refuses to let you go. At some point you finally give in, and within moments you’re waist deep in the water while watching your best friend dip underneath the surface.
You sink further down and allow the water to cool you in the hot sun. You close your eyes and listen to the sound of seagulls flying above. It’s a welcome reprieve; for the first time since arriving, you’re able to fully relax.
“Hey!” You crack open your eyes at Jungwoo’s voice. A small wave of water splashes your face and blurs your vision.
“Not fair!” You waste no time in thrashing in your own arms in the water towards him. “You have goggles!”
You haven’t waged a water fight in at least ten years, but you face your opponent with gusto. Your movements are big yet largely uncontrolled, while Jungwoo takes pointed aim during strategic moments. It’s only with him that you can access this carefree side of yourself; it’s as if his presence alone makes all other worries flutter away to another day.
By the end of it, you’re drenched and your stomach hurts from laughing. You nearly crawl back to the beach chairs to dry off.
“Not too bad, right?” Jungwoo asks as he rubs his head furiously with a towel.
You tilt your head to drain the excess seawater from your ears. “Not too bad.”
The two of you fall into a comfortable quiet, existing in each other’s presence.
You’re watching a fluffy cloud slide across the horizon when Jungwoo props himself up on his elbows. “Would you be open to a couples massage before I leave for the rehearsal dinner?”
Your head nearly snaps off your neck. “You booked one?”
“No, Doyoung did.” He shakes his head and points to the phone in his hand. “I thought he felt bad about yesterday, but apparently he can’t cancel since it’s no refunds with last-minute cancellation fees. If you don’t want to go then I don’t mind going alone.”
You ignore the flutter in your stomach and opt to be a team player. “Better not let that go to waste, then. I’m down.”
“Cool,” Jungwoo says as he types something on his phone. “I’ll let him know we can make it.”
You close your eyes and lean back in your chair.
“Are you pretending to sleep?” Jungwoo asks.
“No?” You respond, eyes still closed. “Why would I?”
“The same reason why you pretended to be asleep last night?”
You jolt upwards. “What?”
The guilt must be painted all across your face. Jungwoo snorts. “Knew it.”
“I was trying to fall asleep,” you protest weakly. “Promise.”
“Which still means that there’s something preventing you from sleeping that we need to talk about.” He gives you a pointed look. “You’re trying to play it off, but I know you’re freaked out about yesterday.”
Your throat dries up, and your eyes fix on the horizon. “I’m not freaked out.”
“Look at me,” he says. You force yourself to meet his gaze. Jungwoo searches your face. “See, you totally are.”
You circumvent an apology before he has the chance to say anything. “It’s okay, Woos. It would’ve been totally weird if we insisted on not doing it.”
“But there are other ways I could’ve gone about it to get them off our backs. Kissing you doesn’t even make sense as a punishment,” he runs a frustrated hand through his hair, “and it was your non-negotiable. I could’ve at least done that for you.”
A pang of guilt thrums at the bottom of your stomach. How are you supposed to explain that you’re not even upset at all, let alone upset about him kissing you–you’re confused that you enjoyed it. That, if you’d been in private, it would’ve been too easy to lose yourself in his touch.
You can’t. Not without igniting a bomb. Instead, you force a smile on your face and pivot to humor. “Make it another one on Doyoung’s tab. I promise I’m okay.”
“Alright.” Jungwoo finally cracks a smile. “I believe you, but I promise that it won’t happen again.”
He launches into a story about his run this morning, but it’s harder to force a cheery attitude. You know it’s good—the deteriorating boundaries had already caused enough confusion on its own—but you can’t help the disappointment sinking in your chest.
You haven’t quite shaken the feeling off, even as you’re sitting in the lobby and filling out paperwork in anticipation of your upcoming massage. It’s still there, even as you’re listening to the masseuse explain what to expect for your experience.
Jungwoo turns around when it’s time for you to remove your clothing; the two of you hadn’t talked about it beforehand, but you’re grateful nonetheless. You strip down to your underwear and lay on the table. You turn your head to the side and stare at the fake candles lining the perimeter of the room.
You’re not sure what you were expecting, but the massage is just like any solo one–you’re really just existing in the same soothing bubble together. You’ve opted for a lighter pressure experience, while Jungwoo’s masseuse kneads at the deep knots in his shoulders.
“Ugh,” he grunts during a particularly tight knot,
“Pfft,” you huff and turn your head to sneak a peek at his suffering.
Your eyes connect with his wide ones. Unlike a few days before in the mirror, when the two of you devolved into giggles, neither of you break. Your gaze skips over the curve of Jungwoo’s shoulder and down his bare back. It’s not new territory, considering he’s showing as much skin now as he was in his swim trunks, but it feels different. More vulnerable.
His eyes stay fixed firmly on your face. Then, his mouth flicks upwards in a gentle smile.
That’s your limit. You fake a grunt–you masseuse startles a bit after not feeling any tension in that muscle at all–and turn back to your other side. You close your eyes for the rest of the experience, your heartbeat racing at a rapid tempo.
-
Jungwoo leaves for the rehearsal dinner immediately after the massage, leaving the rest of your night open. You could reach out to Haechan, Mark, or even Yuta, considering that all of you are not in the wedding, but you settle on retreating back to your room instead. The massage has put you in a mindset of self-care, which leads you to order dinner via room service.
After finishing your meal, you eye the bottle of champagne that’s been, up to this point, abandoned in your room.
Self-care, right? You’ve earned it.
You crack it open and slide the door open to the balcony. The fresh air refreshes you instantly. You close the door behind you with your bottle and glass in hand.
While it’s too dark to see the ocean, you hear the waves crashing on the beach in the distance. You inhale deeply. Salty yet refreshing.
You swirl your glass absentmindedly as your mind processes the day’s events. Really, there’s one truth shining forward in your head that you struggle to fully acknowledge: you’re attracted to Jungwoo.
You’re not absolutely sure when it started. Sure, last night has been on your mind all day, but the feeling doesn’t feel completely new; it’s as if it’s been tucked away neatly in a back corner of your brain and just now clawed its way out. Previously unconnected moments align in your mind: his insistence on driving you to workout classes, his offer to be your wedding date, and even the ghost of his breath on your lips when you almost kissed a month ago. Last night’s kiss has merely blown everything up and forced you to face the aftermath.
Even so, you don’t know what being attracted to Jungwoo means. You’re not sure if you want to touch him, stare at the details of his face, or just be close to him at all times. You know him far too well to completely separate the innocence of your existing foundation from the budding physical attraction.
You give up trying to make sense of it. Instead, you lay back in your chair and gaze up at the full moon sitting in the sky.
You’re not sure how much time has passed when the sliding door opens behind you.
“Drinking our couple’s champagne without me?” Jungwoo asks with a smile in his voice.
You tilt your head back to look at him. “How was the rehearsal dinner?”
“We rehearsed, then we dined. Doyoung cried. The usual things you’d expect.” He shrugs before pausing. “It was boring without you, though.”
Your body responds, sending a light feeling of giddiness bouncing between your stomach and your ribcage. Your voice, thankfully, remains level. “Wanna join me out here?”
“I’d love to,” he says, sitting next to you. He places his own glass on the table and fills it for himself.
You raise an eyebrow. “What’s the point of asking if you already brought the glass outside before?”
“I would’ve celebrated inside by myself if you rejected me, but now I get to spend it with you,” Jungwoo says as he clinks his glass to yours. “To our last night out here.”
You repeat it back to him and take a long swig of your drink. “I can’t believe today was our last day together,” you say.
“When you say it like that, it sounds like I’m never going to see you again,” Jungwoo responds with a slight pout in his lips. “Seven years of friendship, and it takes Doyoung’s wedding to blow it up?”
Your stomach lurches. It does feel like everything you’ve known about this friendship has been turned upside down leading up to this wedding. In a way, it has been blown up. You can barely look at Jungwoo without your heart rate elevating against your will. You went into this wedding worried about what others would think of you, but now you can’t stop wondering what Jungwoo thinks.
You push all of these rising feelings back down. “You know I didn’t mean it like that.”
He gives you a sassy shrug that you ignore. Instead, his previous mention of seven years makes you think of the first day you met at Doyoung’s birthday party. Then, you remember Doyoung’s off-hand comment from the bars, as well as the clear implication it carried.
“Doyoung said something when we went out,” you think out loud. “I don’t know if he was just drunk, but now I’m curious…”
“Go for it.” Jungwoo leans forward. “You can ask me anything.”
That combined with the serious look in his eyes does little to quell the thundering of your nerves. You force the words before you can chicken out. “Did you like me when we first met?”
“Yeah,” he says without hesitating.
Your eyes are as big as saucers. “Yes?!”
A hand runs through his hair. “I saw you on his social media and asked to be introduced. The karaoke thing was not my idea, though,” he clarifies. “He was a total freak for doing that.”
You have so many questions that they all jam up in the intersection of your mind and mouth. Nothing comes out until you finally formulate the words. “Did you still like me after karaoke?”
“Yeah. I liked you for a while.”
Jungwoo’s nonchalance is completely throwing you for a loop. “How did I never notice?”
“Well, you were head over heels for Doyoung at the time,” he smirks and takes another sip of his drink, “and you’re pretty oblivious to these things.”
You’re not sure if the alcohol is making you misinterpret his tone, but there’s a teasing undercurrent to his words. It sounds like he’s talking about both the past and present – or maybe it’s wishful thinking on your part.
Your breathing quickens, and you pour yourself another glass to keep your hands busy. You hope your voice sounds casual as you ask, “When did it stop?”
Jungwoo grins, and the crinkle at the edges of his eyes are teasing yet kind. “Does knowing boost your ego?”
“Shut up,” you mutter. Heat creeps up your neck. “This is new for me, so I’m curious.”
“I’m kidding.” He nudges your foot with his. “It was clear you were into Doyoung and didn’t see me that way, so it gradually just faded. Plus, I genuinely like being your friend, as you’ve noticed.”
“Mhmm,” you say, but your mind is racing. This admission is billowing all of your feelings further into a whirlwind, and you no longer know what to do with them. You don’t even know where to start.
He rises suddenly and stands in front of you with an outstretched hand. “Here. I gotta sleep to prepare for tomorrow. Give me your glass if you’re done.”
The alcohol in your system makes you hesitate, your head tilting upwards to look at him above you without extending your glass to him at all. Your gaze rakes hungrily over his features, and your lips part. Right now, previous boundaries be damned, you want Jungwoo to kiss you.
For a split second, so fast you almost miss it, his eyes flit down to your lips. It would be so easy for him to lean down and close the distance between you; your eyelids half close at the mere thought.
Jungwoo pulls back just as fast, and his hand gently pries the glass out of your hand.
“I’m going to shower first,” he says while he’s already half inside the room. He closes the door behind himself, leaving you out in the temperate night air.
You stare up at the sky, wanting to slap yourself. Why did you have to develop feelings seven years too late?
༝ ˚ ｡ ⋆ 𓇼 ⋆ ｡ ˚ ༝
DAY 4 - THE WEDDING
You walk into the venue with your head held high. The sun is warm and bright overhead, but a gentle breeze cuts through the heat. The location is beautiful; it overlooks the water while still being on steady ground.
You meet Haechan and Mark at the entrance, electing to sit a few rows from the front on the groom’s side. You sit between the two younger guys, and Yuta joins your group ten minutes later.
“Do you think I can make Jungwoo laugh from here during the ceremony?” Haechan asks with a mischievous grin.
“Don’t do that,” Mark frowns.
Haechan nudges your shoulder. “But do you think I could do it?”
“Don’t do it.” You snort, then add. “Because he will laugh, and then Doyoung will kill us all.”
Haechan’s head throws back in laughter. “This is why you two are great together! I can count on you to not blindly take his side.”
“Isn’t that more of a benefit for you rather than the two of them?” Mark raises an eyebrow.
Your mind drifts away as the two of them start bickering. You’re tapping a finger against your chair and wondering how the wedding party is faring. You haven’t seen Jungwoo since last night, as he left early this morning to meet the other groomsmen.
To some degree, the pair of you have always been a package deal at events. However, this time feels different. You’ve grown so accustomed to his consideration of you during this weekend–pulling out your chair, grabbing you a drink, leading you by the waist–that you feel his absence tenfold. It’s more than lacking a partner in crime; going through the motions alone feels like you’re perpetually off balance.
You perk up in your seat when the musicians shift the music into a soft processional song. Other guests rush to settle in their seats before the wedding party emerges in pairs.
You’re expecting Jaehyun and Kaia out first, as planned, but your blood runs cold as you see a familiar figure surface first.
Jungwoo wears a tailored suit that accentuates his tall silhouette. Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him in black suit attire in your life. His bangs are styled neatly to the side so that it’s relaxed enough to blend in with the rest of his long hair. Your heart pangs at the sight; he’s devastatingly handsome.
Kaia’s arm loops through his while gripping a pink bouquet in both hands. The two drift down the aisle together in rigid steps. You see both Haechan and Mark turn their heads to glance at you, but you avoid both of their gazes by keeping your eyes trained on Jungwoo and Kaia. Their discomfort is noticeable to all, but you have to admit that they look good together. Just like before.
You watch them during the entire procession down the aisle. When they finally separate to their respective sides, you release a slow breath.
Jaehyun is two pairs behind his intended starting place. You feel an irrational flash of irritation. Did something go wrong behind the scenes? Whose great idea was it to have exes walk down the aisle together? It couldn’t be Jungwoo’s idea.
“Something probably happened last minute,” Mark whispers to you. “Relax.”
You look down into your lap. Without realizing it, your hands had clenched into fists; the pressure of your nails leaves multiple crescent-shaped indents on the palm of your hand.
I need to get it together, you think. Regardless of how the two ended up walking down the aisle together, you don’t have any right to have any real feelings about it.
As if he can sense your tumultuous thoughts, Jungwoo scans the crowd until his eyes land on you.
“Oh!” Haechan sits up straight. “I’ll try now.”
Jungwoo’s gaze doesn’t waver from you, even as Haechan sways back and forth in front of you in an attempt to get his attention. Instead, the corners of his mouth pull upwards in a soft and slightly apologetic smile.
Its message is clear enough; you lean back in your seat and smile back, your previous agitation fading away.
“Lame,” Haechan scoffs. You roll your eyes.
The Maid of Honor makes her way down the aisle. She’s barely settled in when the wedding coordinator comes up to whisper in her ear. There’s a brief lapse in the music. Her dress bounces as she rushes to the back towards where the bride is supposed to exit.
The wedding coordinator then whispers into the conductor’s ear, and he indicates for the musicians to restart the song. A low murmur breaks out in the crowd.
“Um,” Mark mutters to your left. “Is this a prank?”
You glance at your friends in the front. Johnny and Taeyong have managed to stay calm with tight smiles on their faces. Jaehyun’s neutral expression leans towards a frown, and his eyebrows tilt downward in confusion. Jungwoo at the end is by far the worst, as he shifts his weight back and forth on each leg. He bites his lip and sweeps his eyes back and forth over the crowd.
“Maybe there was a wardrobe malfunction?” You offer.
“Either a wardrobe malfunction, or this is about to be the most awkward reception in the world,” Haechan says.
You elbow him in the ribs. “Don’t jinx it.”
“I think it’s too late for that. If it’s that.”
To his credit, Doyoung stands at the altar with his head held high. There’s not a trace of doubt in his eyes–although you think maybe there should be. Hell, you have enough doubt and fear for the both of you.
Then the back doors open, and there’s a collective sigh of relief as the music shifts to a slower arrangement. The flower girl emerges first, scattering pink petals across the aisle, which seems to further assuage the atmosphere. Luckily, Doyoung isn’t being left at the altar today.
When the officiant gives all attendees the cue to sit down, relief washes over you and causes your mind to drift.
Would you have been able to have as much faith as Doyoung? Or, to be more exact, is there a person alive who you could hold that much faith in?
You look at Jungwoo standing at the front with the groomsmen. He stands at attention with a sentimental smile as he watches his friend say his vows.
Your chest warms at the sight, and you can’t help your own smile from spreading across your face. Then, just as fast, a jolt pings through your body as you snap out of it.
It’s here, ignoring your friend’s vows because you’re too busy smiling to yourself like an idiot, that you finally fully succumb to the creeping awareness you’ve been avoiding this entire weekend—and maybe before.
It’s not that you’re just physically attracted to Jungwoo. You can see yourself with him. You can no longer detach yourself from the fake couple construed for this wedding—you want to be with him for real.
The realization makes your stomach tie in knots, and you’re not sure if you want to cheer or throw up.
The decision is made for you, as you see the couple exchange the rings, and the officiant speaks with a bright grin.
“By the power vested in me by the support of this community and strength of your love, I now pronounce you wed. You may kiss.”
Your cheer blends in with the others, but you’re only looking at one person.
Jungwoo finds you in the crowd, and a big smile floods his face as he whoops and cheers even louder.
—
You’re still Jungwoo-less in the hour after the ceremony as the wedding party pulls away to take more pictures. You make small talk with your friends until the DJ starts to announce the wedding party entrances.
This time, Jungwoo emerges with a different bridesmaid, and Jaehyun comes out with Kaia.
So it was a mistake, you think to yourself. You feel a little bit lighter at the confirmation.
Jungwoo beelines to his seat next to you, a wide smile on his face. You can’t help your own smile, and your table claps as he approaches you.
“Hi,” he says, pulling you into a hug and pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Hi,” you respond, hugging him back.
You all cheer as Doyoung and his bride come out last. Everything from then on flies by with incredible speed; Taeyong leads the first toast, and Johnny gives a speech during dinner that makes your eyes misty. There’s a special layer of sentimentality that feels amplified by the presence of all of your friends. Doyoung has always been the glue to hold you all together, and this union feels symbolic of a new chapter.
You sneak glances here and there to your date, and you can’t help but wonder what his new chapter will bring for him. You know you shouldn’t get your hopes up, but it’s starting to become impossible to picture your own future without him in it.
After the first dance concludes, the DJ changes the song into something more upbeat. When no one moves, he speaks into the microphone. “If any brave souls want to adventure out onto the dance floor, all are welcome.”
Jungwoo’s chair squeaks a bit as he stands. He extends a hand out to you. “Let’s go?”
Your eyes widen, but you grab his hand. “Seriously?”
“It’s fun music and easy to dance to, at least,” he says in a low murmur to your ear. “Wedding party duties.”
You stand and let him lead you to the dance floor. To their credit, your friends spare you the pain of being the only ones out and trickle onto the floor with you.
You usually hate being the center of attention like this, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not while your friends are making absolute fools of themselves in front of Doyoung’s family.
Taeyong is halfway through an attempt at the worm when the DJ speaks again. “Now for the folks who want to stay, you know what time it is…the bouquet toss!”
You begin to follow your friends all the way back to the table, but Haechan and Yuta interrupt you halfway.
“No you don’t,” they laugh and spin you around with a push toward the group. “Go get 'em, tiger.”
There’s now a sizable group of both women and men chattering while waiting for the bride. You stand towards the back of the group stiffly. You don’t want to be here, and you especially don’t like that your friends are recording you from a distance.
“Let’s count down for the bride here,” the DJ says, signaling a hand to the crowd.
3…2…1!
The pink bouquet flies in a perfect, tall arc above your heads. It’s clearly going to land a foot in front of you, and other attendees have adjusted themselves to be lined up right under that spot. You don’t move a muscle; you’re not willing to get bodyslammed for a handful of flowers.
Hands reach up for the arrangement; a long arm in front of you makes brief contact with the bottom of the bouquet, effectively making it bounce mid-air. Suddenly, the pink blossoms are launching towards your face, and you don’t have enough time to react before you get a mouthful of peonies. Your arms come up late to protect your face, and before you know it you have caught the bridal bouquet.
People are cheering and laughing–your friends are laughing louder than everyone else while yelling your name and clapping Jungwoo on the back.
And it’s all on video, you think. Great.
You stride back to your table, defeated, but not before Jungwoo jumps out of his chair.
“A commemorative photo,” he says while gesturing to you to raise the bouquet. You reluctantly pose for the photo before laying the bouquet on the table.
“Embarrassing,” you groan.
“Ah, come on,” he says as he gives the flowers a quick pat. “It’s essentially good luck, right?”
You stare at the pink flowers laying on the table. They feel more like a taunt rather than a symbol of marital happiness. You have no real prospects to the point of needing a fake boyfriend. You’re probably the farthest away from any potential marriage. After today, you won't even have a fake boyfriend.
The thought of going back to normal with Jungwoo is devastating in itself. Not only do you have to launch a fake breakup to all of your friends, but you will also have to pretend that nothing in this weekend affected you. If you want to keep him in your life, then you have to lock all of these burgeoning feelings away. The thought makes you sick.
When your friends rise to their feet to join the dancing again, you wave them off. “I’ll join you guys later–bathroom first.”
Once they’re fully enjoying themselves, you push out your chair and slowly slink around the perimeter. The bathrooms are on the corner closest to the water; you lean against the wall and look at the waves instead of going inside.
You don’t break your position, even as someone emerges from the bathroom door next to you.
“Everything alright?” Kaia asks.
“Oh!” You jump at her voice. “Sorry–hey. I’m doin alright.” There’s a brief silence, so you add. “You?”
“Just alright.” She leans against the space next to you. “Can I ask you something?”
“Of course.” You’re caught off guard, but you have no reason to think ill of Kaia. Even with your earlier flash of jealousy, you know deep down that the circumstance was no fault of her own.
“Are you and Jungwoo really a thing?”
Your jaw drops. You’re completely taken aback by the question. “What do you mean?”
Her smile is bittersweet. “After people found out that you two were dating, everyone was so surprised that they started betting on whether or not it’s real. There’s a whole group chat and everything.”
“I see.” Your throat dries. “With everyone?”
“Just the bridesmaids,” she clarifies, “but I wouldn’t be surprised if it spread. People suck like that.”
When you think back to others’ behavior, it does make sense. Outside of your friend group, you’d felt eyes on your back all weekend, and it had definitely felt more loaded than the average curiosity into a new relationship. Even so, you feel gutted. You’d undergone this whole ordeal just for people to have suspected you from day one?
“If it makes you feel better,” Kaia adds cautiously. “I voted that it was real.”
Your head snaps to look at her so quickly that it must blow your cover, but you don’t care. “You did?”
“It’s going to sound weird coming from me, but I haven’t seen him this happy in a while. Plus,” Kaia grins. “Having your ex flaunt his new relationship does help you avoid unwanted encounters.”
Add another one to the list of Doyoung’s Victims, you suppose.
Your voice comes out smaller. “I’m sorry you had to hear about it all weekend too.”
She shrugs. “It’s not that bad. Been long enough, and I genuinely hope you both are holding out and doing well. I just thought you should know.”
Kaia senses the turmoil in your silence and pushes herself off of the wall. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Thanks for hearing me out.”
“Thanks for telling me,” you reply earnestly.
She moves a few paces forward before turning over her shoulder one last time. “There’s a betting pool for the winners, so don’t let it be fake, ‘kay?”
With that, you’re left alone. It would be easy to turn the corner and head back toward the festivities, but you can’t face everyone. How can you? You’ve failed to fully convince people of your fake relationship and have actually fallen for him in the process. For god's sake, his ex had to reassure you outside of a bathroom.
You decide to walk toward the coast instead, the sounds of the partygoers drifting farther out of earshot. You plop down at the first spot that catches your eye.
The tide rolls up toward you, stopping just shy of your feet in the sand. Your shoes are kicked off next to you, and you hug your knees into your chest. The moon casts a soft glow on the surface of the water, and your spot is far enough away to see outlines of your friends partying into the night.
This is it; your friend is married, your other friends are celebrating without a care in the world, and you’ve successfully made it through the wedding festivities without any major collateral damage.
You should be celebrating with them, but you can’t bring yourself to. Staying in this state of sentimentality feels right for now. You want to remember this feeling when everything goes back to how it was.
There’s a crunching noise as someone shuffles in the sand behind you.
“There you are,” Jungwoo says, relief evident in his voice. “I was looking for you.”
“Sorry,” you mumble without taking your eyes off the water. “Felt like getting away.”
He holds out a familiar pink bouquet of flowers. “I saved it for you. In case you wanted it.”
You frown at the blossoms. “I don’t.”
You expect him to coax you back to the others, but instead he plops right next to you. He copies your position by folding his legs in toward his chest. “What made you choose this spot specifically?”
His face is alert and bright while waiting for your answer. You give in. “Something about sitting here makes me feel suspended in time. I don’t have to worry about tomorrow.”
Jungwoo’s head tilts. “What happens tomorrow?”
“Oh, you know, traveling home. Working.” You draw a small circle in the sand with your finger. You straighten your back and extend your right hand outward. “Since tomorrow takes us back to real life, now’s as good a time as ever. I’d also like to officially release you from your wedding date duties.”
He stares at your hand, no doubt confused by your change in tone, but he shakes it regardless. “I guess this really is the end of it, huh?”
“It is,” you say.
The two of you watch the ebb and flow of the tide together in silence. After a while, Jungwoo speaks. “Can I get a review of my performance?”
Your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“Well.” There’s a mischievous glint in his eye. “I technically provided a service as your fake boyfriend and wedding date for this weekend. So, I’m requesting feedback.”
You roll your eyes, but a laugh escapes out of you. “Nerd.”
He’s unfazed, blinking his long lashes at you. “I’m waiting.”
“Fine,” you snort. “I can confidently say that you are the best fake boyfriend I could’ve had this weekend.”
You look at him, but he shrugs. “There’s a character minimum. You have to do better than that.”
“I think you saved my ass from awkward conversations too many times to count,” you continue. “I don’t think I’ve opened a single door by myself when you’re around.”
“Affirmative.”
“Everything is so easy with you, Woos,” your voice cracks, and you can feel him staring at you in a stunned silence, but you force yourself forward. “I never have to worry about anything when you’re around because I can just be myself.”
When you connect with Jungwoo’s startled, wide expression, you know that you’ve revealed too much. There’s something about the coast–being away from home, maybe–that easily spills the contents of your heart. Maybe, if you leave everything here, it will hurt less later.
“Your turn,” your eyes crinkle at the edges as you smile. “As I am not the only one that benefitted from this arrangement, I would like to formally request a review of my services as a fake date.”
Jungwoo breaks eye contact and scratches at the back of his neck. “It was perfect.”
“Our plan was perfect?” Admittedly, you don’t think you’ll pull off a more elaborate scheme for the rest of your life.
“No, I mean you.” Jungwoo’s brown eyes catch yours. His hand reaches over for yours, rubbing small circles on the top of the skin. “You’re perfect.”
It’s the tipping point for everything that’s built up throughout this weekend–every touch, every glance across the room, every flutter in your chest. Your freshly discovered feelings collide violently with the physical attraction pooling in your stomach.
“I want to kiss you.” The words come out as a whisper. “For real.”
“Me too.” He’s already leaned fully forward, lips brushing feather-light against yours. “I’ve been thinking about it ever since the first time.”
You connect, and his last words are enough to send a rush of adrenaline through your body. It had never just been you feeling this way.
Jungwoo tries to keep the kiss steady and slow, but you pull him closer. You need him closer. You run your hands through his hair and pull him closer by his neck. His own hands cup your face to deepen the kiss. You slowly sink down together until your back is flat against the sand and Jungwoo hovers over you.
You’re so lost in the other’s touch that you don’t hear the footsteps and drunken chatter until it’s too late.
“Oh–jeez, get a room!” You hear Haechan shriek first.
You break apart. You’re both still decent–just caught up in the moment–but your chest heaves up and down as you catch your breath.
“They already have a room,” Johnny eyes your sand-covered back. “But gross, guys. We looked for you guys to make sure you’re alive, not get a front row seat to sex on the beach–”
“We get it,” you complain. “Shut up.”
You both rise, you grumbling and Jungwoo muttering out apologies as you wipe the sand off of each other. The group moves back towards the venue, walking fast and leaving an intentional distance between you.
Jungwoo laces his fingers in yours and begins to move, but you yank him back. “Wait.”
“Yes?”
“This,” you point back and forth with your free hand. “I want this to be real. In its entirety.”
You’re expecting another soft glance, maybe another kiss. Instead, he flicks your forehead. “Duh.”
“Duh?!” You echo. "You said it faded away."
“It did. I didn't have secret feelings for you for five years, especially when I was dating other people,” he says, as if it’s obvious. “But ever since we started hanging out again...it crept back up on me. You meant something more to me, all over again. Do you really think I’m that good of an actor?”
“I…” You’re completely speechless, more so knowing that a few days ago, your answer would’ve been yes.
Jungwoo relishes in your silence with a grin on his face. “And what made you finally feel the same way, huh?”
“Well,” you think out loud, a similar grin spreading across your face as you hold back your laughter. “We’ve been meeting consistently for the first time since college. After you begged to be my fake boyfriend, it made me re-evaluate the easy chemistry that’s always existed between us…”
“Alright, quit it.” He rolls his eyes, pulling you along the beach. “I’ll get the real answer out of you someday.”
“It won’t take that long,” you laugh.
Jungwoo spins you by the arm back around so that you fall into his chest.
“This is your last chance to back out,” he says suddenly as he squeezes you in his arms. “Because if you don’t say something now, I’m never letting you go.”
“It’s a little late for that.” You wrap your arms around him and squeeze back. The waves crash in the distance, allowing you to relax your head against him. “I’m already yours.”
To everyone else, Doyoung’s wedding is the time that you and your boyfriend got caught rolling around in the sand; they never let you live it down. But unbeknownst to them and a secret between the two of you, it signifies something far more precious–the summer you fell in love.
would y'all mind if a girl posts a prequel to sunkissed secrets...
hey so i may or may not have sobbed my eyes out at the last part of soul ties… like OMGCFGCC THE ANGST AND JENO WANTING TO STAY BY YN’S SIDE EVEN AS A GHOST 😭😭😭 ngl i was lowkey spooked out with all the ghosts and stuff but im soooo glad i kept reading thank so much for writing this 🙏🏻🙏🏻
AHHHH THANK YOU! 🥹 that was one of my favorite aspects of the dynamic - the yearning/angst forced by the physical boundary was so fun to explore 👻 im really happy that those emotions came through to you while reading, tysm for sharing that!! 😭🤍
ngl i am a deeply unserious person so leaning that much into the ghost aspect was NOTTT my original intention at all!! As I kept drafting/editing tho the story felt like it really needed that worldbuilding, so it took a sharp left turn into paranormal angst city LMAO if it wasn't intended for Halloween season I might've locked it in my draft basement 🤧
all the respect for writers that regularly dive into fantasy/spooky content because the amount of googling spirals I had on ghosts was crazy...like I have never cared to read about or research ghost lore™️ until it was needed for story purposes HAHAHA
so with that being said it was out there even for me LOL so thank you for taking a chance on the storytelling and continuing to read it 🥰
soul ties | l.jn
lee jeno x reader | ghost!jeno x psychic!reader
ft. Chenle, Renjun, Yangyang, & Ten as supporting cast
summary:
Born with the ability to see ghosts, you’ve spent your days guiding lost souls to the afterlife. This time around, however, everything taught to you is flipped on its head when a ghost finds you first. Polite, kind, and mysteriously tied to your side, Jeno remembers little more than his name–and the fact that he’s not dead. At least, not yet.
word count: 16.9k (help)
genre: fluff, angst, ghost!AU/supernatural!AU, mystery vibes, gn!reader
warnings: mentions of death (no graphic descriptions; mostly existentialism & grief), ghost fighting/hunting, minor horror elements
playlist: supernatural (ariana grande) | body & soul (emotional oranges) | juna (clairo) | 4me4me (malcolm todd) | echo (the marias) | out of time (the weeknd)
a/n: Happy Halloween everyone! this kind of AU is super different and new for me heh - hope you guys enjoy! ( ◠‿◠ )♡
On your days off from being a guide for the dead, you prefer to stay in and disconnect from the outside world entirely. No after-hours working, no late nights writing, and no ghosts to worry about.
That’s what you’d like to focus on, anyway, if your boss wasn’t blowing up your phone with emails essentially all saying the same thing: File your paperwork.
“Bureaucracy,” you mutter as you type away on your laptop. A movie rolls in the background as you detail the previous day’s events. While you understand the need to document the time, place, and method in which you shuttled spirits to their next stop in the afterlife, you hate writing reports. Referring to each spirit with a case number feels less like objective evidence and more like impersonal erasure of their history and personality from when they were alive.
You’ve gotten through three quarters of the way when your phone vibrates with a message from your coworker, Chenle.
Hey, wanna see a movie with me and Renjun later? It’s a new indie film that’s out. Ton of drama around it, apparently, but it’s getting great reviews. Breakout rookie, too.
You frown at your phone. You feel bad, since you end up turning down at least half of his requests to hang out, but you really do need this time to be alone. The surge in cases lately leaves you with little social capacity in your free time.
Sorry can’t make it, need to finish a report. You know I usually just go for re-runs, anyway.
The response comes immediately: Rude, but I get it. What’s on for tonight?
You hesitate. You could easily lie, but you opt to tell the truth.
Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
Wow, depressing, he responds, but somehow so you
You snort. I’m going to take that as a compliment. Have fun!
Another immediate response. You too. Sucks that you’re writing reports, but at least it will get Ten off your ass.
Your boss, Ten, continuously refers to you as one of his top performers, but you have a hard time believing it. You’re surprised that he still says it in the first place, considering you never finish reports on time and disagree with most of his suggested approaches. At this point, you’re surprised that the Spirit Hunters allow you to practice under their discretion.
You sigh for the millionth time as you add the final touches on your document. Shutting your laptop closed, you lean back against your couch and release a deep exhale. On days like these, you question if life will always be this cyclical and mundane. Work, evade, decompress, then always work again.
Then, your lamp on the end table crashes to the floor. You open your eyes to complete darkness in your apartment.
A chill runs down your spine–the long, creeping kind that sends your instincts into high alert. You know this sensation well; you’re sure that you’re within the presence of a ghost.
You fish in your pocket to get a hand on Renjun’s newest technology–supposedly the contraption could capture and contain ghosts, but you still haven’t put it to use. Such methods are usually too violent for your liking, even when they’re conveniently portable.
Still, you don’t know what you’re dealing with, and it can’t hurt to have something violent on hand. You fumble around in the dark until your hands find the lightswitch to the kitchen lights.
You brace yourself as your eyes adjust to the light, and you swing the hand holding Renjun’s invention back behind your head. There, hunched over the pieces of your broken lamp, is the wispy apparition of a man around your age.
“Oh!” He says while looking over his shoulder. “I thought I could pick up the pieces while you looked for the lightswitch, but…” He looks down at the muted hues of his form. “I’m not very effective like this.”
You let out a deep breath of relief. Your shoulder lowers, and you place Renjun’s invention on the kitchen counter. “...Don’t worry about the lamp,” you say. “It’s just thrifted, anyway.”
The ghost’s shoulders relax. “Well, that’s a relief, then.”
Your brain takes in all of the facts in front of you. He holds his posture high and has a very clean cut appearance–styled hair, expensive watch–and he remains near your broken lamp with his hands tucked in his pockets. Paired with the strong structure of his face, he would give the impression of an intimidating man with influence–if it weren’t for his sheepish demeanor. His facial expression wide and head tilted, he reminds you of a dog waiting for his next command.
“...What’s your name?” You ask.
“Jeno.”
“Nice to meet you, Jeno.” Your words come out clipped and light, like you’re talking to a child. “How did you find your way into my apartment?”
He squints at you. “I don’t know.”
“You…don’t know.” You wrinkle your nose. In almost every instance, you sought out the spirits of the dead yourself; the entire purpose for joining Ten’s agency was so that people called you in for help. Otherwise, it’s much too hard to find any organically. There had been one coincidence when a neighbor passed away a few doors down–you’d run straight into the ghost instead of the physical person in the hallway–but that was it. Never in all these years had a ghost sought you out first. Let alone spawn in the comfort of your own home.
Jeno raises his palms in the air. “I only remember regaining consciousness in your kitchen just now. Nothing else.”
You frown, although it’s more to yourself than at him. Amnesia? It’s not uncommon immediately following death, but you hadn’t encountered a case like this in a long time.
Most souls are able to find their way off the mortal plane of their own volition. The stragglers left behind typically suffer from some form of unfulfillment; vengeful ghosts immediately seek out their target, and remorseful ghosts attach themselves to the closest connection of their regrets or unrealized dreams. On very rare occasions, you encounter true lost souls with no connection at all to their mortal selves.
You can work with memory loss. However, that doesn’t answer your central question.
“Have we met somewhere before?”
He shrugs. “If we have, I don’t remember.”
“Right,” you swallow. You’re sure that you’ve never seen or met this man in your entire life. Of all your loved ones that have already crossed over, you’ve never once been the target of one’s post-mortem attachment. Why now, with a complete stranger?
You cross your arms. “I understand that you’ve lost your memories, but is there really nothing else calling to you? No urge to find someone or something specific? Even if you don’t know exactly what that would be?”
“I was curious about where I ended up,” he hesitates. “I, uh, can’t make it too far away from you, though. I tried.”
Your blood runs cold. “What do you mean?”
“Stand by the front door and I’ll show you.”
You shuffle to the door and linger at the entrance, arms crossed. Jeno floats through your living room and in the direction of the hallway leading to your bedroom, but he stops in place right before he makes it to the turn.
“I can’t go any farther,” he announces.
You don’t respond. Instead, you march back to your couch and open your laptop. You log into the Spirit Hunters’ internal portal and start parsing through archived case files.
“...Tethered spirits…” you hum to yourself. “Hauntings, maybe?”
Jeno edges closer to you, although he maintains a respectful distance away. He eventually opts to float just above the seat of your armchair.
“You’re actually very relaxed about my…state," he observes. “Everything, really.”
“Ah, my manners have left me.” You state your name. “You can consider me your guide, of sorts. I find and assist lost souls to find closure before moving onto the afterlife.” Your eyes squint at him. “You found me, though–for whatever reason.”
Jeno blinks at you. “Not sure if this is just a gap in my memory, but are people who...help spirits...common knowledge?”
“Definitely not. Most people can’t see ghosts without some sort of assistive device,” you explain. “My sight is a family trait–I’ve been able to see the spirits of the deceased since birth.”
“That’s cool, I think. Well–having that sort of family tradition is definitely unique. There’s, um, just one thing…” Jeno bites his lip. “I’m not dead.”
Goosebumps prickle on the surface of your skin. Denial is common, but something about his firmness unsettles you. You chalk it up to your least favorite part of the job–many newly deceased spirits are confused and unaware that they have partially transcended the mortal plane.
“If I’m seeing your spirit like this, then you must be dead,” you assert. Your heart sinks for him; you’ve broken the news to other metaphysical beings many times, but it doesn’t get any easier. “I know it might be hard to think about, but we can work together and figure out what you need.”
“What I need is for you to help me figure out who’s trying to kill me,” he says back. “Like I said, I’m not dead.”
“How are you sure that you’re not?” You ask calmly. “If you’re going to make bold claims, I need to know on what basis.”
“I–” He hesitates. “I just know.”
You shoot him a half-smile. “That’s not evidence.”
Jeno doesn’t respond, crossing his arms and glaring at one of the far walls.
Guilt flashes through you at the silent treatment, but you know the enforcement of cold, hard facts is a harsh reality that both of you need to face. Acknowledgement is the first step to acceptance for Jeno, and it does you no good to let yourself be swayed by the ghost’s emotional state.
You close your laptop and rise to your feet. “That’s a wrap for me tonight. I’ll start on your case tomorrow.”
You consider explicitly telling Jeno to stay out of your room while you sleep, but the stoic look on his face tells you that he’ll likely spend the entire night ruminating here. It’s clear, even from this brief interaction, that Jeno is not any form of vengeful or malicious ghost. He’s gentle, lost, and, for an inexplicable reason, now tied to you.
He doesn’t say a word as you make your way to your bedroom. Even as you get ready for bed and settle under the covers, you can’t shake the feeling that this case is different. Amnesia, a physical tether, and the persisting notion that he’s alive–something about Jeno’s case is rather supernatural, indeed.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The next day, things don’t go much better. Jeno sits–well, floats across from you as you cycle him through your typical procedural questions with the same result: no answers and no memories.
Strangely, he does recall current events with none of the emotional attachment. Sure, he remembers specific politicians and controversies, but he doesn’t have an opinion on the state of politics as a whole. Yes, he can objectively identify the biggest artists of this year, but the name of his favorite band remains just on the tip of his tongue. A normal member of society missing any personal history or attachments.
“This time around, let’s just try associating certain concepts together. It might give us a hint about your personality,” you explain. “Or jog your memory. So, when I say a word, just say whatever comes to mind.”
Jeno nods. He looks miserable, and you’re sure that you’re not looking your best either. Hours of this have worn you both down, and you’re one failure away from jumping straight to the big guns.
Still, you have to try. “Love?”
“Nothing,” Jeno says.
“Death?”
His eyes skip to you in open disapproval. “You’re kidding.”
“Death,” you repeat.
He enunciates every word without breaking eye contact. “Nothing. Not dead.”
You click your tongue. “Family.”
“Annoying.”
“There’s something.” You type a few notes into your laptop before shutting it closed. You shoot a quick text on your phone before packing up your things to go.
“What, you’re not going to ask me about any other words?” Jeno snorts. He floats higher and higher as he gets more riled up. “Murder? Afterlife? Girlfriend?”
“A guy that looks like you would enjoy bragging about the success in your love life, huh?” You reply without looking up from your phone, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’re clearly not receptive, which makes the exercise useless. Your mind’s blocked.”
“Of course it’s blocked–I don’t remember anything!” Jeno argues while waving his arms for emphasis. At this point, he’s risen so high that his back is parallel with the ceiling. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“Hmm.” Now that’s something you could work with. “So no urge to find someone important?”
“Uh,” Jeno looks away, and a faint gray-pink color fills his cheeks. “No, I don’t think so.”
You smile in spite of your frustration. “I wouldn’t have pegged you for the shy type. You look like a total womanizer.”
He wrinkles his nose. “As if.”
“Well, you can test the shy act on my friend.” You put on a coat at the door and grab your bag.
He descends from the ceiling to follow you. “Is there someone else who can see me?”
“Yup. You just gotta know someone with the right lineage. Or tools,” you add. “Lucky for you, I have a large network of special abilities in both.”
No thanks to the Spirit Hunters, you think to yourself.
While the Spirit Hunters connected you with new talent like Chenle and Renjun to work with, most of your contacts were from your childhood. Families with abilities tend to stick together, and your family has been close to the Liu family for generations.
Yangyang’s current place sits in the center of the city via a fifteen minute walk from your apartment. You walk up the stairs and place your hand on the doorknob without hesitation.
“Shouldn’t you knock?” Jeno’s voice is laced with confusion.
“I texted him,” you say, as if that explains everything.
“Yangyang!” You call out while walking through the front door. “I brought the ghost I was talking about!”
“In here!” He calls back from the kitchen around the corner. There’s a faint burning smell permeating the air. You take a deep breath; lavender and cinnamon, possibly. The aroma is comforting, at first, but it quickly transitions to too much as you feel pressure building in your nose.
“Good god, get some ventilation in here!” You cover your nose and side eye Jeno. “...Think you can open some windows?”
Jeno rolls his eyes, but all nearby windows slide open.
“Thanks.” You walk into Yangyang’s kitchen. He’s hovering over a large kitchen pot on the stove. The contents are so green that your eyes squint from the bright light emitting from the liquid. He stirs at the concoction with a wooden spoon.
“I thought you would be, you know, actually cooking something,” you say as you lean against his fridge. “Until I smelled the lavender. I’m still confused on how such a talented witch can be so good at potions but so bad at cooking.”
“Witches are real?” Jeno asks, his mouth agape.
“You know I don’t consider myself a witch.” Yangyang points the wooden spoon at your face. “Do you want me to help you or not?”
“Sorry.” You bow so low that your head passes the plane of the countertop. “Please assist me, grand sorcerer.”
Yangyang shakes his head and turns off the stove. He transfers the pot away from the still-hot burner. “This is why I’m your only friend. Go sit down in the living room.”
“Chenle and Renjun are my friends,” you spit back as you settle into a space on the floor in front of his couch. “Kind of.”
“Doesn’t count since they’re technically your coworkers, and you barely see them outside of work,” he says as he drifts into the room. Yangyang finds a spot in the space across from you. His gaze locks onto Jeno, who’s still hovering near the kitchen. “Please, sit down.”
“I can’t sit,” Jeno replies.
Yangyang points to the space next to you. “Hover in front of me, then.”
Jeno does as he’s told.
“This only works if my intentions are properly set,” Yangyang explains to Jeno. “My name is Yangyang, and I’m going to sense and tap into your energy.”
“What…does that mean?” Jeno asks. He looks at you, brow furrowed and puzzlement burning in his eyes, but you merely smile back in amusement.
Yangyang doesn’t answer. Your friend takes out a green bundle and lights the end of it. The tips of the plant burn a small flame, which Yangyang immediately blows out to leave smoldering ends. Yangyang traces the plant around the space with his eyes closed.
Jeno turns to you now. “What on earth is he doing?”
“It’s rosemary and sage,” you say without taking your eyes off the building smoke. “He’s purifying the space and ensuring there’s no outside negative energy that can interfere with his reading. Just stay put when he focuses.”
To Jeno’s credit, he doesn’t say anything else as Yangyang focuses in silence. You close your eyes, too–your family had always hoped for a secondary gift outside of clairvoyance for you, but sight ended up being your singular ability. Yangyang was considered gifted within his family lineage; he came from two prominent sorcerer families and manifested abilities from both. You enjoy basking in other people’s talents, even if only for a moment.
You open your eyes and peek to your right, only to find Jeno already staring at you. You’re taken off guard by how beautiful his features are up close. Given that his current state leaves him partially translucent, you can only imagine how good looking he must be in person with full saturation.
You raise an eyebrow. Yes? You mouth.
He looks away.
“Alright,” Yangyang says before you can tease Jeno further. “Ready?”
“Been ready,” you grin.
Yangyang glares at you–he always insists on being professional during readings, even though you’ve been friends for so long–but he continues. “Your energy is very faint, but genuine and steady. From what I’m able to ascertain, you’re a reliable person that’s sensitive to those around you.”
You lean forward. “What do you mean by faint?”
“Usually those with a low sense of self have an aura fainter than others. For example, yours is so strong that it’s distracting and kind of annoying.” He eyes you, and you stick out your tongue at him. “Jeno’s energy is abnormal, considering that everything else about it seems very consistent and strong. I think it’s safe to say that he doesn’t have most of his memories–if any.”
You roll your head back and groan. “Sense of truth?”
“Steadfast.”
“General aura essence?”
“Fluffy, somehow,” Yangyang says with a straight face.
Your impression of Jeno as a curious puppy from last night pops back in your head. You burst into laughter.
Jeno’s head whips between the two of you. “You thought I was lying about losing my memories?!”
“Not lying, necessarily. Confused, maybe. Nothing personal–just something I like to confirm. Ghosts aren’t exactly the best primary sources, even if you think you’re telling the truth.” You wave your hand over his shoulder as you make a patting motion. “Yangyang, are there any other energies present that you can detect?”
“Nothing on you,” Yangyang squints at Jeno next. “Him…I don’t immediately see anything else present, but I’m feeling something. It’s subtle, but somewhere else. Maybe he was cursed when he was still alive, and now there’s a trace of it left with his spirit.”
You squint at Jeno. “Any curses you know about?”
He shakes his head.
“Thought so.” You start to rise onto your knees. “Thanks, Yangyang–”
“Wait,” Jeno interrupts. “Are you able to tell if I’m still alive?”
Yangyang’s eyes widen. “You think you’re alive?”
You wish that Jeno had a physical mouth for you to cover. Sure, you trust Yangyang with your life, which is why he’s always one of your go-to consultants, but it’s bad practice. Other resources aren’t so trustworthy. It could take only a few whispers of this through your line of work for this case to escalate out of your grasp.
“I have no evidence,” Jeno says. Deep lines accompany his frown; he must’ve taken your words from the other night to heart. “I just have a feeling that it’s not over.”
“I see.” Yangyang focuses on Jeno’s form again, but then deflates. “Sorry. As I am, my abilities can’t differentiate between the living and the dead since I focus on energies. Your energy is essentially the same foundation during and after life, so I can’t tell the difference.”
Jeno’s shoulders slump forward. “I should’ve figured. Thank you anyway.”
As you rise to stand, Yangyang squares his shoulders to the two of you. The expression on his face is resolute and firm. “Be careful.”
“Be careful?” You frown. “I thought Jeno was safe. Fluffy, even.”
“He is. It’s the trace of that other…thing that makes me nervous.” Yangyang shakes his head. “Just…be careful while you do your usual due diligence. I’m probably just paranoid.”
“I appreciate it. I’ll be careful,” You respond with a small smile. You continue your path toward Yangyang’s door, calling over your shoulder. “Again, thanks for the help. Invoice Ten for me, would you?”
“How you hold down this job is beyond me,” Yangyang rolls his eyes. “I got it.”
You continue your path down the sidewalk directly outside of Yangyang’s house. You’d been able to respond with an easy confidence to his face, but now dread swirls around in your gut. A potential trace of a curse still present after death and Yangyang’s cleansing? What exactly are you dealing with?
Jeno catches your attention again. He’s floating next to you at an equal pace to your stride. He stares across all the details of your face. “Are you feeling anxious after what Yangyang said?”
“Obvious, huh?” You huff, but you look away. You don’t know how you feel about Jeno’s propensity for reading your emotions less than twenty-four hours after meeting. “There’s a lot of weird details surrounding your case that I’ve barely seen in my career. Let alone wrapped up in one ghost.”
Jeno puffs out his chest. “Maybe because I’m not dead.”
You shoot him a pointed look. “Or maybe your living self messed up a ton of things before passing on, and neither of us realize that we’ve been set up to clean up the mess.”
“Harsh,” he mutters.
“Anyway, look,” you say to him. “Notice anything weird?”
He tilts his head. “We’re…in a garden?”
You’re standing in the middle of the community garden closest to Yangyang’s house. The area is so lush that it appears more tropical-like with bright pops of flowers juxtaposing against deep green. You can see rows of vegetables in planters budding from a stone’s toss away, and the surrounding area is completely devoid of people. A wooden gazebo sits in the center of the garden with brown doors closing off the opening.
“As your guide, I know you’re not ready yet,” you state. “However, I do feel as though it’s my duty to acquaint you with the door to the next life.”
Jeno stays quiet, although his outline drifts a few feet away from the wooden structure.
“For those in the mortal plane without sight or the tools to see, this gazebo appears as a fountain,” you explain. “When souls are stuck on earth, this is the one-way door that allows them to pass forward.”
“If it’s one-way, then does anyone know what happens if you were to pass through?”
“I can see it and open the gate, but I can’t go through it.” You swipe your hand at his arm, but the limb passes through his forearm easily. “Like this, kind of. I tried. I just pass in and out.”
Jeno stares at your hand protruding through his, as if he’s just registered his state as a ghost.
“I’m not ready,” he says. He glances at the gazebo sidelong, his form hovering a couple of inches higher.
“I know.”
“If you’re able to open it,” he hesitates. “What’s stopping you from using one of those machines and forcing me to the other side?”
He’s smart. Other spirits were usually more blindly trusting in you, but you can respect his need to ensure your honesty. “My practice forbids it. Our entire mission is built on acting as true guides and allowing the spirits to retain their free will.”
Jeno tilts his head. “Our? So there’s a lot of you, then.”
You flinch. You hadn’t meant to let it slip at all, but old habits were hard to break. “There used to be, a few generations ago. I’m the only one left practicing, and most of my coworkers say I’m doing it the hard way.”
Jeno thinks before speaking. “It’s the hardest, maybe, but it’s the most humane.”
You eye the gazebo’s structure. All of your coworkers treat it as the endgame for their missions. For you, however, it’s your past, present, and future. You visited first as a child, face it constantly in your direct line of work, and, when it’s your time, will eventually walk through it yourself. It’s something unexplainable, to have this door between lives interlinked with your own various life stages. “Doing this is the most humane way, yes, but also the most painful.”
Jeno must catch on to the bittersweet tone in your voice, since he hangs on your last words.
Instead, you clear your throat. “I just wanted to show you the door. Tomorrow’s another day, and we can use it to try and find who you are.”
You finally tear your gaze from the gazebo, only to find Jeno’s brown eyes roaming over you. “Thank you,” he says.
You smirk, reaching desperately for your usual humor. “For literally taking you to death’s door?”
“For taking the painful way. It makes all the difference for me, at least.”
Heat rises and spreads across your chest so fast that your eyes widen. Jeno’s smile is small, yet the warmth and gratefulness is so genuine that any witty response dies in your throat. For the first time in years, you fight back the urge to cry. You don’t let yourself.
“Thanks, Jeno.” You swallow the lump building in your throat. “I hope it pays off for both of us.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The sun’s barely risen over the horizon when you crack open your laptop to work. You’re sifting through tens of cases for some sort of lead–recently concluded hauntings, curses, or even reports of possessions in the area. All that turns up, unfortunately, are mild cases; nothing as ominous as Yangyang suggested.
“Still in your pajamas?” Jeno asks when you enter the living room in a daze.
“Huh,” you glance at the bright sunlight glaring through your windows, then at the plaid print of your pajama pants. “That’s a first.”
He frowns. “So this isn’t normal?”
The undercurrent of his question is obvious: What’s wrong with my case? Do I even have a chance?
“The pants are comfy,” you answer quickly, then change the subject. “Did leaving the TV on last night work?”
To help alleviate Jeno’s restlessness at ghosthood amidst being trapped in a small apartment, you’d experimented with multiple stimuli. Last night’s solution was to simply leave the TV running overnight, as to allow Jeno to at least focus on anything else.
“Actually, yes–wait,” he interrupts himself. “Don’t try to distract me. It’s not going well, is it?”
You sigh. “All cases take time, Jeno.”
“But I’m guessing that most cases don’t keep you up at night like this,” he shoots back. “Or take this long.”
It’s true; it’s been weeks since Jeno first appeared in your apartment, and you still don’t have a lead. Along with analyzing real-time reports, you’d tried to dig into his identity. You figured Jeno’s name would fare better than no name at all, considering his name’s uniqueness, but it hadn’t changed things in the slightest. You couldn’t find any records of a Jeno living in this city, and typing Jeno into search engines only popped up unrelated results and suggestions of Did You Mean: Juno?
You cross your arms. “Not knowing your identity does set me back. It just means I need to be creative.”
He crosses his arms back. “You’re not looking very creative.”
Your feet shuffle as you shift your weight back and forth. The time spent together has done nothing to acclimate you to Jeno’s earnest nature nor his intuition. He never once buys into the laidback and composed persona that you’ve crafted to keep your vulnerabilities shielded from others. At times, you feel as though it’s some sort of otherworldly trade-off; you see through his physical form, and in turn he’s able to see through you. All of you, it seems.
Even now, staring at each other in tense silence, you don’t know what to make of it. For someone in an amnesiac ghost state, he’s awfully more concerned with you over himself. It’s annoying, especially when the amnesiac ghost in question becomes more emboldened to sass you with each passing day.
You’re grateful when your phone vibrates on the table, allowing you to break the moment.
“Renjun,” you say, scratching at the back of your neck. “What’s up?”
“Hey.” Renjun’s somber voice over the phone immediately evokes your alertness. “I know you’re busy investigating that one ghost, but something’s come up.”
“What happened?” You walk to your room and start laying out work clothes for the day. Even Jeno, who prefers to stay away from your room, lingers in the doorway.
Renjun takes a long, shaky breath over the phone. “There’s been a call, and I think you should be the one to take it.”
A cold shock shoots up your arms. “Personal?”
“...Yes.”
Your throat constricts, and you forget to breathe before rasping out: “Who?”
“Your cousin,” Renjun says. “Sana. She was recently spotted in the cafe on Main and 3rd. She’s showing signs of being vengeful, but I was hoping that maybe…”
Death’s door flashes in your mind’s eye. “I understand. I'll check it out.”
Your body moves on its own to change and gather all of the necessary equipment. It’s you driving and going through the motions, but you barely register that it’s happening until you pull in front of the cafe. The entire block has been closed down, and Renjun waits for you outside.
“Hi.” He manages a grim smile. “She’s driven out all of the level one hunters. I wanted to give you the chance to handle this in the way you want to, considering you’re her next of kin.”
Jeno’s followed your silence since ending the phone call with respect, but now you feel his eyes linger on you.
You ignore it. “I appreciate it,” you say to Renjun. “I’m going to try to de-escalate, but I’ll call you in if…it’s unavoidable.”
Your friend nods, but the discomfort on his face is clear as day.
You slowly turn the handle and press the weight of your arm into the door. It creaks open to a dim room lit only by the outside sunlight leaking through half-open blinds. Your cousin, Sana, perches on top of the counter next to an espresso machine. You take cautious steps towards her until you’re standing in the center of the room.
“Took you long enough,” she smiles. “Brought a friend too?”
You think she means Renjun, but you follow her gaze to Jeno lingering by the entrance. His body is bisected by the door itself so that you’re only looking at his right side. Immediately, you understand what’s happening.
“You can just come in,” you assert. “There’s no avoiding it.”
Sana raises her eyebrows. “A tether?”
“Yup,” you say, popping the ‘p’ sound. “Enough about him, though. Don’t you think terrorizing a bunch of new hunters is a little cruel? They’re basically kids.”
“How else was I supposed to get your attention?” She rolls her eyes. “I was hoping to create a tether with you, but I guess that spot was already taken. I got stuck here, instead.”
“Sorry,” Jeno pipes up from his corner.
You grit your teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me it was time? You promised.”
You’d known that your cousin only had so much time left–she’d already surpassed the initial prognosis, but the extra time had lulled you into complacency.
She shrugs. “I didn’t want you to see me like that. I could barely swallow, let alone speak. This is a much easier avenue.”
“It’s not easy for me,” you choke out.
“I’m going to the door right after this. Alone, as I promised you.” Sana's eyes soften. “This is just to say goodbye, really.”
Panic rises to your chest.
Months ago, you’d rehearsed the things you would say to her. At the time, you had a million drafts of a million speeches: some reminiscing on your shared memories, others promising to live on for her, and the angriest picking at old fights. Anything to stall the inevitable. Now that Sana’s ghost smiles at you, wispy outline and all, you don’t know what to say.
“I don’t know how to do this alone,” you blurt into the silence.
“When you think about it, we really didn’t work together much.” Sana reasons with you. “Your sight was always sharper than mine, anyway.”
“You know what I mean.” Flashes of your memories cause your emotions to heighten. “When I lost my parents, then yours, then everyone else one-by-one, you were right there by my side. We were supposed to make it together.”
Her voice comes out soft. “I know.”
The room is so quiet that you can hear your own breath, but you press forward. “I know you fought hard, but I needed you here more. Who am I to maintain this practice alone? I might as well just go too.”
That makes Sana leave the countertop and float to your side. Before you know it, a cool sensation washes over the back of your neck. Sana makes a stroking motion against your hair, although her hand freezes your skin with each pass through.
“You know, you never said any of this to me when I was alive,” she says softly. “Not when I was sick, and not when I was improving.”
“It wasn’t about me.”
“To me, everything was about you. You always carried yourself well, even after losing your parents, and you picked up the family business like it was the easiest thing in the world. Leading the souls and breaking the tie, or whatever the old geezers used to say.”
“Lead the soul, break the tie,” you sniffle. “I never did that properly. It’s too hard for me. Not that anything else came easy, either.”
“It is hard,” she agrees. “And this won’t be easy, either. You have to promise me that you’ll find someone to bear this burden with you. Don’t try to do things alone this time.”
“It’s going to be impossible to find someone crazy enough to want anything to do with my real life,” you scoff.
For a flash of a moment, Sana’s eyes dart at something over your shoulder. “I’m sure that person is closer than you think. The most important thing is that you let them in.”
“Fine.” You wipe away your tears with an angry glare. “I hate you for not staying with me, and I hate you for using your last moments to boss me around. And…”
“...And?”
“I love you too much to ignore what you say,” you finish. “I’ll try.”
“There you go,” she coos.
You both stay like that for a while. You sniffle while Sana strokes your head to comfort you. Despite the ice-cold feeling following her every touch, it’s comforting nonetheless.
“I’m going now,” Sana announces softly when your tears have finally dried up.
Your head snaps up. “You really don’t want me to go with you to the door?”
She shakes her head. “You’ve done enough for others. I can handle it.”
Just like that, Sana nods in acknowledgment to Jeno in the corner before floating to the entrance, as if to actually open the door.
“I love you!” She calls out with a wide grin. Her outline seems to glimmer with gold hues, but you’re sure it’s a trick of the light. “Tell your friend not to chase me down with that weird contraption, okay?”
You and Jeno both report your witness statements to Renjun, who graciously offers to write the report and file the paperwork. The numbness in your body follows you home and through your whole post-work routine. The tears come back only when you curl in bed, comforted by the soft sheets and distant white noise of the TV you don’t remember turning on.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
You stumble through your front door after another wasted day of investigation. You’d followed what you thought was a lead on Jeno’s family, but, like always, it had led to a dead end.
“It’s okay,” Jeno floats around you. “I thought that would work too.”
Lately, Jeno had stopped moping about his current state. In fact, he maintains a steady sense of cheerfulness that bewilders you. You suspect that the sudden spike of optimism after Sana’s passing is more than coincidental, but you see no worth in asking directly. Who are you to stop something that puts you both at ease?
Plopping on the couch and kicking your feet up on the coffee table, you browse through movie options endlessly until you hover on a classic.
“Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind,” Jeno reads out loud. “That title seems too long.”
Your jaw drops. “You’re joking.”
He shrugs. “I haven’t seen it.”
“Well now we’re watching it,” you state while starting the movie. “It’s a bit of a weird one, but it’s good.”
You manage to stay quiet throughout the entire movie, opting to watch Jeno’s reactions to all of your favorite parts. It’s like watching it with fresh eyes, in a way, to see his nose scrunch up at some moments and his jaw hang open during the twists.
When the credits roll, you lean forward and finally let yourself speak. “What did you think?”
“Good.” Jeno crosses his arms without taking his eyes off the screen. “More philosophical than I realized it would be.”
“Since you have a unique perspective on this, what’s your take?” If it were anyone else, you’d never ask this question, but you’re well acquainted with Jeno’s openness. “If you found out that your amnesia was due to intentionally blocking painful memories, what would you do?”
“I would ask for them back,” he answers without hesitation.
You raise an eyebrow. “Every time?”
“Every time.”
“Why?”
“Well,” he pauses. “Even though I don’t remember most things, I do know that the sum of all my memories made me who I am. Good and bad. It’s worth remembering both.”
“Interesting,” you murmur.
In all honesty, you’re jealous of how resolute and instant his answers are. For all of the poking and prodding at Jeno that you’ve done since meeting him, he’s never once wavered in giving you an answer. Beneath the sweet and shy exterior is always a stubborn, decisive guy.
“This is the movie you were watching on the day we met, right?” He asks suddenly.
“Yes.” You’re not sure why your mouth won’t stop moving, but you add, “It’s my go-to movie for tough cases that are family or romance heavy.”
“Go-to movie?”
“It’s just a tradition. Sometimes movies are the only thing that can get me to wind down and sleep, so I watch a movie that reminds me of the ghost I just worked with.” You don’t mention that this tradition in particular was started by Sana in your teen years. It feels good to talk about her, even if it’s indirect.
“Huh,” he thinks for a moment. “What would my movie be?”
“Casper,” you respond.
“The friendly ghost?”
You nod. “Except you’re Jeno, the even-friendlier ghost.”
His face puckers, but he doesn’t let your teasing derail his seriousness. “You never watched one after Sana,” he points out.
You click through the list of movies, as if to pick something else. “This works, doing it now.”
He watches you for a second. “Would you choose to keep your memories?”
“It’s different circumstances for me,” you say. “I would choose my family every time, no matter how painful it is for me. I’m not supposed to, technically–a main pillar of our work is covered by one mantra: Lead the soul, break the tie. So I shouldn’t, but I carry them with me every day. I could never forget them.”
Jeno nods without responding, which makes hot embarrassment climb up your neck. Were you too honest? When did you become comfortable being so vulnerable and sentimental in front of him?
You cough and continue. “I don’t care about romantic partners, though. They can erase that any day.”
“What?” Jeno blinks. “Isn’t that the whole point of the movie we just watched?”
“I just haven’t cared enough about any of them,” you shrug.
Jeno stares at you, bewildered. “Okay, so you dated, but have you never been in love?”
You let it slip before you realize what you’re saying. “Maybe not, but I was close. Once.”
There’s something about Jeno’s presence that feels as though all of your inhibitions have eroded away. All that’s left is you, pouring the stories so long held close to your chest.
“He was normal. No sight, but his mom was a Spirit Hunter so he kind of knew the deal. He liked me because I was different. Then…”
Jeno waits for you to continue. “Then?”
The rest of your words burst out. “Then I lost family members one-by-one, whether in the line of work or by natural causes, and suddenly I was too different. Too freakish to love.” You let out a slow exhale. “Told me as much and said I was cursed.”
Jeno says nothing, but his hands ball into fists until they’re shaking. His arm muscles cord with the increased tension.
“It’s okay,” you anticipate his defensiveness over you with a grin. “I punched him in the face.”
“Thank god.”
“But I’ve rambled too much about my loser ex,” you sigh. Your hand fiddles with the edge of your shirt. “Can’t say it’s that intriguing; more so sad.”
“Well, I don’t know. Punching your loser ex is intriguing enough to me,” Jeno smiles. “Besides, you’re an interesting person overall. You command everyone’s attention pretty much immediately.”
It’s his innocent moments that feel like the low hanging fruit for you to mess with him. “Sounds like it’s more that you’re the one paying attention,” you grin. “You interested?”
You’re expecting him to roll his eyes at you or change the subject away, as always. Instead, Jeno leans forward, an equally mischievous smile widening across his face. “And what if I am?”
You recoil at the proximity, yanking your head back as if he could actually steal a kiss. Your heartbeat roars in your ears as butterflies frenzy in your stomach.
For one thing, you’re not used to this level of engagement. Most of your friends laugh and roll their eyes at your antics, but they never flirt back. For another thing, it’s the distinct seriousness in his eyes that tells you he’s not joking. Any trace of puppy-like innocence found before has settled into a cool confidence.
“I would tell you…that sucks because you’re a ghost,” you say lamely. The words come out much too fast to pass as an organic joke. You’ve totally lost.
Jeno laughs regardless. “Something tells me that our dynamic wouldn’t change much.”
“If you weren’t a ghost?” You scoff, finding your footing. “You think that our dynamic wouldn’t change if you weren’t a ghost forced to be within a 20-foot radius of me?”
“You might not know what to do,” he shoots back. “I’m just saying that my feel–attitude toward you wouldn’t change. I’d act the same. In person, with memories–anything.”
You don’t know that for sure, you think bitterly, but heat rises up your body.
“You pick the next one,” you say as you throw the remote at him.
Jeno moves on easily from your back and forth, unfazed as he uses his abilities to flip through the streaming options. “I kind of want to watch something new,” Jeno says with raised eyebrows. “Will that mess up your re-run routine?”
It’s the small details that make you feel seen. You tuck your legs up and hug your knees into your chest. “Since you watched one of my movies, I’ll allow a new viewing. Just for tonight,” you say with a sniff. “I’m feeling adventurous.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Once your grief shifts from a sharp sting to a faint thrum, you decide to take a break from the safety of your apartment.
“You’re going spirit hunting while I’m still tied to you?” Jeno asks.
“Just because you’re in denial doesn’t mean that I need to halt the rest of my work,” you huff while preparing your equipment. “And don’t phrase it like I’m hunting to kill. I’m responding to a call, thank you.”
Jeno rolls his eyes. “Whatever you say, Ghostbuster.”
It’s not uncommon for you to work on multiple cases at once, but Jeno’s tether had kept you rather preoccupied. You’re really not working one of your normal jobs, anyways–for the first time in years, Chenle has asked for backup on a call he received the night before.
“Thanks for making it,” Chenle grins at you when you step out of your car. “I figured it wouldn’t hurt to have the immediate support of my favorite Psychic Psychologist in case this goes left.”
“Funny.” You toss him a pair of goggles. “You’re lucky that I still carry a pair even though I don’t need it.”
“That’s why I like working with you, despite your creepy spirit connections. You’re always prepared.” Chenle fumbles with the goggles, adjusting the straps as he’s putting them on. When he finally gets himself situated, he does a double take at the apparition over your shoulder. “Did you pick up a hitchhiker on the way here or something?”
“Jeno.” He says. “Nice to meet you.”
“...Chenle.” Your coworker looks at you with wide eyes. “Are you sure you want him here?”
Right. You don’t know what you were expecting; for the first time, the gossip train has failed Chenle. Renjun must have withheld the information due to Sana, and there’s no other way Chenle could have found out. He never consulted sorcerers, ruling out YangYang, and you’d been decisively behind on your paperwork.
“I can’t leave him anywhere else, even if I wanted to,” you supply. “He’ll deal with it.”
Chenle blinks once. Twice. “I’ve heard about tethers, but I never thought I’d actually see one. Considering, you know…”
“Considering you kill on sight?”
“Hey,” Chenle raises his hands in surrender. “They’re already dead.”
A familiar twinge of annoyance pulls at your gut. While Chenle’s a good guy overall, his philosophy reflects that of most Spirit Hunters; concise yet total subjugation of the spirit. In other words, the complete opposite of you.
You’re about to fire back, but Jeno beats you to it. “I prefer not being killed on sight, personally.”
His interruption just stokes your anger further. “I would prefer if everyone would just focus on the issue at hand without wasting my time.”
“Wow,” Chenle snorts and glances over at Jeno. “Good luck, man. Seems like she’s a lot meaner to you than her usual clients.”
“Still pleasant enough overall,” Jeno shrugs as he brushes it off.
You ignore their comments and turn your attention to the empty department store in front of you. “What’s the deal here? I didn’t have time to look at the case file.”
“Reports of some haunted rooms.” Chenle says, his face turning serious. “Female ghost, apparently, and it’s bad enough that it’s impacted their business. According to some talks I had with the neighbors, the girl had a secret relationship with the owner’s son.”
“So, a jilted lover.” You frown. “You can’t handle that by yourself?”
Chenle hesitates before talking at a slow cadence. “It’s really just one aspect…”
You raise your eyebrows. “Out with it, or I’m leaving.”
“She attacks anyone on sight,” your coworker admits. “Full steam ahead with complete tunnel vision. It makes it impossible for someone to take her alone…”
“...which is why you’ve asked for backup,” you finish. “Lovely. If you knew you just needed bait, you should’ve asked one of the juniors.”
“It was an open invitation to all. I just happened to call you first, and you opted to volunteer despite being on another job.” Chenle’s eyes flit back over to Jeno as he frowns. He doesn’t seem quite sure what to make of the ghost. While Renjun had a lot of direct interactions with benign ghosts due to his research for his inventions, Chenle had no interest in anything except catching the worst of the worst.
You sigh. “He’s coming regardless, so you might as well get used to it.” You do one last check of your equipment before talking over your shoulder to Jeno directly. “This is going to be a massive change in pace, so don’t freak out. I’m going to be the diversion, and Chenle’s going to use that opportunity to capture the spirit from behind.”
“Isn’t this game plan for me to dictate?” Chenle whines.
You ignore him. “Just don’t put yourself in the direct path, okay? I haven’t seen Renjun’s device in action, so just be careful enough that you don’t get sucked in.”
“Got it, but…” Jeno purses his lips. “What about you?”
“Once again, this is my job.” You put your hands on your hips, but you can’t help the small smile that rises to your face. “I have Yangyang’s ward and some of my own techniques. Trust the process.”
Jeno hums, but you can tell that he’s actively doubting the process.
You’re about to ask what else is on his mind–after all, he’s really been so different, lately–but Chenle interrupts you by loudly clearing his throat.
“The sensors are showing she’s on the second floor in one of the dressing rooms,” Chenle informs you. “Head up first; I’ll be close behind.”
“How brave,” you joke before taking off into a jog. “See you inside, then!”
While you’d expected the usual ambiance of a haunted building–dark and eerie–the store lights overhead burn your eyes upon entering. The business in question must be a department store, as you pass clothing racks and shoe displays on your way up. The only thing that reveals the inoperability is the lack of customers along with the stationary escalator. Even a faint hum of elevator music bounces off the white walls and vinyl floors.
As your feet tap tap tap against the metallic escalator steps, you feel a cool sensation intermittently brushing against your arm. You pause at the very top to peer behind yourself, only to see the muted color of Jeno’s hand grasping for your wrist.
“You realize doing that only distracts me, right?” You whisper. “I’m not stopping.”
“I think you took this job too soon,” Jeno says in a low voice. He’s so close that his hand passes through your arm, and he leans toward you so that the left side of his chest slightly overlaps your right.
The coolness bites at your skin, and your breath catches. “I’m fine. It’s not your decision to make, regardless.”
“Regardless, I know you, and I know you’re not okay.”
It’s a standoff as you glare at each other. His eyes drift over your face with an intensity that makes your heart rate spike. For a moment, even within this strange liminal space, Jeno commands all your focus. From the deep shade of brown eyes up close, the turn of his cupid’s bow, and the defined contours of his face, your thoughts are scattering. You wish, with a sudden and jarring impulse, that his physical body was here–whether for the purpose of pushing him away or pulling him close, you’re unsure.
The moment breaks as a loud crash echoes from across the second floor. You curse and crouch behind the nearest rack filled with floor length dresses.
You inch a hanger along to peek through the mound of dresses. Across the way is the outline of a young woman emerging from one of the dressing rooms. She’s rather petite for a malignant ghost, but you have the sneaking suspicion that something is off.
Chenle sneaks behind a display on the other side of the escalator. He turns off the safety on Renjun’s device and glances over at you, nodding when you lock eyes.
Here goes nothing, you think.
“Hey!” You call out as you jump out of your hiding space.
The spirit raises her head to gaze at you, but she doesn’t move.
You’re waving your arms out back and forth now. “Over here!”
Her head merely tilts as she stares at you wordlessly. You’re halfway through forming words to yell at Chenle that you’ve got it all wrong, dumbass when the spirit begins rapidly growing in size.
“What the fuck?” Jeno gasps.
It’s more than growing; her entire shape is shifting and morphing while darkening by the moment. It’s more than a ghost, you realize as its form oozes into an amorphous shape with a large, single eyeball in the center.
It’s a wraith.
After its transformation the wraith rests for a second. Then, it lunges.
Simultaneously, your nervous system kicks into high gear as your body moves on its own accord. You sprint in the opposite direction in a straight line; it’s the only place you can go, considering that Chenle’s whole plan hinges on attacking from the back.
Speaking of Chenle, you have no idea where he is. After erratic movements to evade the wraith and running for your life, there’s still no sign of your coworker. He’s late.
You burn out. You’re fast, but the wraith gains on you as it screeches and bounds behind your every move. Your blood rushes in your ears and your lungs burn from the effort. You don’t have much left in you.
Then, finally, you hear a shout.
“Hang in there!” Chenle yells while pointing the capture technology from the distance. “Get in here, freak!”
You’re relieved, but the surprise of his presence causes you to misstep; you slip on the tile and stumble on the floor.
The wraith nearly pulses in delight as it reaches for you. In this moment, you realize that there’s no way it’s in the range of Chenle’s weapon. The wraith is going to reach you before Chenle can get it.
The dark mass swirls closer and closer towards you, until a flash of dull color partially obscures your vision.
“Hey,” Jeno grins, moving back and forth laterally before floating up towards the ceiling. “This is a better target, right? More dynamic?”
Get out of the way, idiot, you want to scream, but the words don’t escape your dry throat.
The wraith stops and follows his motions like a cat. Your fight-or-flight instincts are sure that it’s going to go back to you, the living target, but you gasp as it bounds after Jeno’s retreating figure.
“Don’t fuck this up, Chenle!” You hear him call out as he flashes toward your friend.
“No, don’t!” You scream at the same time. At this point, your pleas are directed at both of them. For Jeno to stay uninvolved, and for Chenle to not deploy the capture technology with Jeno in its direct path.
Chenle unleashes the machine. The wraith shrieks as it swirls towards the device. A flash of bright light nearly blinds you as it deploys, and you’re forced to cover your face with your hands to protect your vision.
It’s minutes before you’re able to open your eyes again. Dread weighs down your stomach, and you’re scared to see the results. You look up while holding your breath.
The first thing you see is Chenle leaning against the railing next to the escalator.
Chenle pants while shaking the cylindrical device around. “Got it,” he rasps.
The second thing you see is Jeno’s silhouette floating directly above Chenle’s head. His smile is victorious, albeit a little sheepish.
“Got it,” he echoes.
You exhale hard as the rest of your body collapses to the floor. Jeno’s over in an instant, his face hovering over yours.
“Did it get to you at all?” He asks, worry lines wrinkling his forehead.
You sit up, his question pulling you out of the energy drain. “Did it get to me?” You shriek. “You should’ve been worrying about it getting to you! Or Chenle getting you accidentally! Are you stupid? I told you to stay out of the direct path!”
“Right,” he runs a hand through his hair, “but, well, I turned at the last minute. So, technically, floating above Chenle’s head was no longer within the direct path.”
If looks could kill, you could’ve created three new spirits of the dead.
Chenle crawls over to you. “Don’t be mad at him,” he says through heavy breaths. “He saved both of us.”
Shouts echo from the bottom floor, followed by the sounds of footsteps racing up the escalator.
You turn to Chenle, eyes wide, but he shakes his head.
“I called more backup on the way up,” he explains. “The sensor’s readings were off the charts after we entered. Be mad at me if anything, but not Jeno.”
“I can be mad at all of you,” a familiar voice says. A blanket drops around your shoulders.
“Renjun!” You gasp as he wraps Chenle in a matching shock blanket.
“Let’s get you both out of here,” he mutters while bringing you both to your feet. You lean on his left shoulder while Chenle takes the right. “I’ll take all three of you idiots home.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
After a few days of recovery and a full spiritual cleansing from Yangyang, Chenle and Renjun visit your apartment to iron out the details of the report.
“This sucks,” Chenle complains. “This case has so much paperwork now.”
“That’s what happens when you involve so many other people without getting the proper protocols and approvals first,” Renjun chides. “Including another ghost. Another ghost adds like three pages minimum, I swear.”
“I’d help write if I could. Maybe I could try to use a keyboard with my influence?” Jeno offers.
Renjun shakes his head. “Not your job.”
You stay quiet. You hadn’t said much, over the past few days. You’d slept pretty much the whole time, save for eating. Your coworkers forcing their way into your apartment was the most you’ve seen of anyone except for Jeno.
Renjun eyes you. “You sure you’re good to meet right now?”
You shake yourself mentally and force a smile to your face. “Peachy.”
Your friend’s eyes squint at you, but he says nothing.
In reality, everything is far from peachy. You’re mad at everyone–Renjun for forcing you to do paperwork after the experience, Jeno for putting himself at risk, and Chenle for making Jeno put himself at risk. Above everything, you’re the most frustrated with yourself. What kind of guide were you to be rescued by the spirit you’re meant to be guiding?
“Alright, no more long faces,” Chenle says while raising his hand in the air. “We finished it and lived to tell the tale. That’s an accomplishment!”
You meet his high five with reluctant contact.
“Hell yeah,” Chenle cheers. He then stares at Jeno before also slowly raising his hand.
“Um,” Jeno stares at Chenle’s palm. “You sure?”
He nods. “Try it, dude.”
Jeno’s hand passes through Chenle, who shudders at the contact.
“They never mentioned how cold it is," he mutters.
Jeno turns to you with a smile. “We make a pretty good team, huh? Who would’ve thought a ghost and spirit hunter combination would work?”
“Saying it worked is pretty generous,” you say. “We got lucky.”
“Well, in reality, you’re lucky that I was there,” Jeno points out.
The claim quickly devolves into an argument stretching between the two of you.
“I have a question!” Chenle interjects.
You pinch the bridge of your nose. “What is it, Chenle?”
“You don’t know Jeno’s full identity yet, right?”
“...Not yet,” you confess.
“Since you’ve been putting in all this research into his identity, is it safe to assume you’ve already checked his resemblance to that one actor? The one from the indie movie I was trying to get you to see?”
Your stomach drops. “You recognize him?”
“Kinda. Well, not for sure,” Chenle frowns. “He looks a lot like this breakout actor fans have been talking about.”
You type Jeno into the search bar. Nothing of substance. Next, your fingers type in Jeno followed by the movie name while your mind races. Sure enough, Jeno’s face finally pops up on the search results. There’s various pictures of him pulled from the movie or pap pictures taken on set, but there’s no images of him at any carpeted events.
You look at your supernatural companion. “You’re an actor?”
Jeno runs a hand through his hair by habit. While you’d seen him frustrated before, his expression is downright distraught. “I don’t know. Aren’t you the movie buff?”
“I gravitate towards my classics!” You defend yourself. “I see a new movie twice a year!”
“Usually because I suggest it,” Chenle chimes in. “You’re welcome.”
“Not now,” you hiss at him. You continue clicking around gossip forums and article titles until you find what you’re looking for.
Debut Actor In Accident Prior to Film Festival, reads the article. His name isn’t mentioned at all, but a scroll down into the comments tell you the uncensored details—everything from Jeno's accident to the sudden death of his co-star on set weeks earlier.. Your heart spikes as you read through the details of what’s been reported, and you read everything in shock.
“You’ve been in a coma for months. You don’t live here, which is why I couldn’t find you, but you’ve been filming here. The day you got hit lines up with the day you showed up in my apartment,” you say even though Jeno’s been reading everything over your shoulder. Your entire face feels numb. “You’re hospitalized, but you’re alive.”
Silence weighs on the atmosphere. After all his stubbornness since appearing in your space, the Jeno from months ago would’ve pointed in your face and said I told you so. You would’ve expected and even accepted it. Now, he freezes in place. It’s only by the faint pulse of light emitted by his form that tells you he’s present.
Jeno’s brow furrows. “I’m…alive?”
“You’re very much alive,” you nod.
Any moment now, you think. A cheer or a glimmer of hope to brighten his face.
Jeno doesn’t speak at first. His gaze goes somewhere you can’t follow—a flash of relief followed by panic.
His frown deepens. “What about you?”
Your heart jumps while your stomach plummets. Everything, every feeling, comes together in contradictory pairs. Tempered fondness tinged by dread. Hope amidst an ache you can’t pin down.
“What about me?” You repeat with bated breath.
“I feel like we’ve been doing great,” he explains before pausing. “Working together, I mean. I was even able to help you and Chenle with the most recent case.”
Chenle clears his throat, and Renjun feigns interest in something on his computer screen.
“You shouldn’t be concerned with that,” you say. “I did all of this before you, and I will continue to do this after you.”
“After me,” he holds the words in his mouth like he’s eating rotten fruit.
“You’re alive,” you emphasize. “Isn’t that what you’ve been insisting this whole time?”
“Well yes, but–”
“There’s no but, Jeno,” you cut him off sharply. You don’t let him finish; you can’t let him finish. If he says what you think he’s going to say, then it will shatter the delicate control that you’ve struggled to maintain since he showed up in your apartment. “You are alive, which means that we must try to reunite your soul with your body.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Off the heels of finding out Jeno’s alive, Chenle and Renjun join the effort in trying to find any possible connection from his past. They never explain why, but your messages are now constantly flooded with new leads by the hour.
You don’t complain. You struggle to focus on anything, and Jeno’s not much better. You’ve barely talked since your initial argument following the news.
Even now, about to meet up with Jeno’s sister, talking with your ghost companion is like pulling teeth.
“Are there any topics you don’t want me to talk about?” You ask him on the car ride over.
“Not particularly,” he says back. “If we’re really going to try reuniting with my body at the hospital today, all of these questions might not even be necessary.”
Thanks to Chenle’s effort, Jeno’s older sister had agreed to meet you at a nearby cafe to his current hospital. You’re not quite sure what to expect, but if things went well Jeno might have the real possibility of reuniting with his body.
You’ve dressed in your most professional outfit, as if you work a normal office job. You’ve rehearsed what you should open with–something formal without coming off as suspicious.
Instead, when she sees your face, Jeno’s sister says your name first as she shakes your hand. “I think your colleague said you were some sort of reporter, but you’re a spirit hunter, right?”
You gape at her. “Erm…yes in name, but how did you…?”
“Jeno was looking into contacting you,” she explains. “Before his accident, that is.”
It takes every fiber of your self-control to not turn to look at Jeno himself. You clear your throat before responding. “He was?”
She nods. “He was convinced something was haunting him on set. He seemed hell bent on reaching out to you after they wrapped, but then he got hit right after.”
“I see,” you say with a calmness you don’t really feel. “Is there anyone in his life that passed away before his accident?”
She shakes her head. “Not that I can really think of. We had an uncle pass away a few months before, and his co-star had that unexpected death mid-filming. Other than that, I can’t think of anyone. Jeno wasn’t superstitious at all, so I was confused why he was so insistent about finding a psychic.”
“Do you remember any conversations with Jeno about your uncle or his co-star? Did he have a good relationship with both?”
“Really great relationship with both,” she says with a nod. “Both were great mentors to him.”
Your conversation with his sister wraps up incredibly quickly after that. She adds you to the visitation before parting ways with you in the hospital lobby.
“Thanks for your time,” you say with a smile.
Jeno’s sister adjusts the strap of her purse over her shoulder. “Do you think my brother was cursed?” She asks. Unbeknownst to her, Jeno hovers right over her shoulder.
“I’m not sure,” you lie, “but that’s what I’m here to find out. I’ll be in contact.”
You receive a visitor's badge and take the next elevator up alone.
“You were going to contact me,” you say out loud. It’s the first words you’ve said to Jeno since the car. “Talk about bizarre. I can’t believe that was strong enough to create a tether.”
“When you asked if there was an urge to find someone, I didn’t know how to answer,” Jeno finally responds. “When I came to, all I felt was a sense of relief. Like I’d finally found you, even though I had no idea of who you were and why I needed to find you.”
Jeno’s face is so red that you can see it clear as day. Your own face feels hot to the touch.
“Well, it checks out with how stubborn you are,” you laugh off the bashful atmosphere. “It got us to where we are now, at least.”
Jeno’s room is at the end of the hallway on the third floor. Your steps slow down as you approach the door.
“Well, we’ll see how this works.” You glance at Jeno. “Ready?”
He nods.
You turn the handle and push against the door, but it doesn’t budge.
“What on earth…?” You knock on the door. “Hello?”
No response. You turn the door handle again and shove your full weight against the door, but it doesn’t budge. It’s as if there’s an anvil propped against the door.
“I can’t get in. Can you try and pass through?” You ask Jeno.
He frowns and tries to phase through the door. However, his form literally bounces off the boundary of the door. He tries again through the wall instead, only for the same thing to happen. It doesn’t matter which door, wall, or even window he tries to enter through. You and Jeno cannot get in.
On your last attempt at knocking the door over, you feel a cold presence seeping from the inner room. The hairs on your neck stand on end, and you feel a second entity trying to push against your psyche.
“Shit,” you gasp. You look at Jeno, eyes wide. “We need to go.”
You rush out of the hospital until the sense of doom fully fades.
“I don’t understand,” Jeno says, his face pale. “Why can’t we get in?”
“It feels like a ward, but we already know that no sorcerer or spirit hunter has been to your room.” You grimace. “We’ve confirmed it. Your body is officially cursed, and whatever’s cursing you doesn’t want us to come in.”
In the following days, you throw yourself deep into your research like never before. You’re digging into any person that could’ve interacted with Jeno in the last few months, sure, but you’re also brushing up on curses in general.
In your desperation, you even resort to watching Jeno’s movie to get a sense of how many scenes he did with each co-star. It’s surreal, watching a solid Jeno acting with a personality completely opposing his real-life demeanor. This character is a troubled and rough soul–all darkness and angst.
“Chenle is right,” you say under your breath. “You are a great breakout actor.”
Jeno shrugs. “I guess I’m glad that my only performance was a memorable one.”
It’s an innocent comment with no malice or resentment lining it whatsoever, but you feel like you’ve been slapped. You rise from your seat and grab a glass of water from your kitchen.
“Whoa,” Jeno says as he follows you. “What’s with the sudden jerkiness?”
You grip the countertop tightly as you release a shaky breath. To your horror, tears begin to drip down your cheeks one-by-one.
“What’s wrong?” Jeno asks, his eyes wide. “What did I say?”
“What if there’s no way to get you back into your body?” Your voice wavers. “Am I supposed to make sure you pass through the door, then? Even though you’re still alive?”
Jeno had insisted that he was alive since day one, but now the reality of the situation slaps you in the face. You didn’t know such a thing was possible, let alone how you’re supposed to deal with it. The mental image of Jeno passing through the door while his physical body exhales its last breath makes you sick to your stomach. He deserves better–you want to do better by him.
You try to collect yourself and raise your glass for a drink, but the water sloshes toward the edge with each shake of your hands.
Jeno’s hand comes up around the cup. It stops the glass, but it passes through your hand easily. “It’s okay. Don’t push yourself.”
Stubbornly, you manage to take a gulp of water. “It’s not okay, Jeno.”
“Maybe we’re thinking of it in a way that’s too black-and-white,” he says.
You have no idea what he’s suggesting, but any words die before they can be released. You stare at him in silence.
“I could stay with you instead,” Jeno’s voice comes out soft. “I don’t have to pick one or the other.”
It’s like a plug has been pulled. All of your pent up conflict swirls into angry tears that drip down your cheeks. “Don’t be an idiot. I can’t let you just haunt the world aimlessly while your real body lives.”
“What are you going to do about it? Capture me and send me barreling through death's door into the afterlife?” He frowns.
“It’s just…wrong. Both ways,” you say. “If you stay in this limbo, it feels like you’re asking me to choose between expelling your soul or letting your physical self waste away.”
“To me, it’s an easy choice,” Jeno responds, resolute. “I only get to be with you in one of them.”
“But that way requires sacrifice.” A frustrated grunt catches in the back of your throat. “You’ll remain alive on a technicality, but you’ll never regain your original memories. You’ll be tied to me at all times, but you’ll never be able to touch me.”
A pause. “Do you want me to touch you?”
Your skin tingles at the mere thought.
“It doesn’t matter what I want,” you hiss. You wipe at the corners of your eyes before any tears can even escape. “I cannot, in good conscience nor duty, allow you to put your soul in that position.”
Jeno’s eyes soften even as his mouth stiffens into a flat line. “There’s just so many things I want to do with you. I feel like I’ve seen a different side of you every day, yet it’s never enough.”
You can’t help the sniffles now. Your shoulders twitch with each exhale.
“I want nothing more than to feel your skin on mine,” he says. Jeno raises his hand up to cup the side of your face. You lean into it, but your head contacts nothing even as your skin freezes. “Even if I’m not able to return to my body, I still can’t leave you. I feel like it’s my duty to stay with you and protect you in whatever way I can.”
It feels like hundreds of needles are stabbing through your heart. You long for the physical contact; just imagining the comfort of his embrace isn’t enough. It’s a sick yearning for something you’ve never had.
It’s this deep ache that makes you whisper: “What do you want from me?”
“I want you to feel comfortable sharing your innermost thoughts with me. I want you to feel comfortable leaning and relying on me.” His smile is bittersweet. “More than anything, I want you to be happy. I want to be the one making you happy.”
You want that too. More than anything.
It’s because you want it so badly that you refuse to say it out loud. You care about him too much to relegate him as your permanent companion. You have someone ready to give up his world for yours, yet all of your principles forbid it.
“Life and fate are delicate scales,” you mutter. “If your soul wanders while your body decays, something will break.”
He frowns. “Scales?”
"Life and death can't be cheated," you explain. "If we disrupt the natural order of things, there will be consequences. Eventually."
He knows that you have him beat with your expertise. However, he still murmurs. “I don’t want to leave you alone.”
You choke back another sob along with the words: I don’t want you to leave.
Instead, you turn your back and walk towards your room. “I’m going to consult some old contacts,” you say. “Someone has to know how to get your body back.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
You pace in front of Ten’s office door. The clock on the far wall reads 7:59AM. One minute to go. Really, there’s nothing stopping you from opening the door and strolling in, but you want to maintain a calm front to your boss. You’d even told Jeno to stay at the furthest point of your boundary with him for privacy.
Seconds before the clock turns 8:00AM, the door swings open with a loud creak.
Ten stands on the other side with his hand on his hip. “Are you going to come in yet?”
“Sorry,” you mutter as you shuffle into the space. “Didn’t want to bother you too early.”
“You’re bothering me more by pacing back and forth outside of my door,” he snorts, then double takes when his eyes scan over your wrinkled shirt and tired eyes. “You look terrible.”
“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes. Leave it to Ten to be honest. “I need help with my case, which is obviously why I called this meeting.”
“Speaking of,” Ten leans forward in his chair and rests his chin against his hands. “How's your ghost boyfriend?”
“Oh no, he’s not my boyfriend. He’s—”
Ten cuts you off before you can finish your defense. His eyes are bored yet sharp. “I don’t want to know what weird supernatural label you’ve put on it. I’m assuming you’re having trouble finding his body?”
Renjun and Chenle must have told him. While Ten allows you the freedom to investigate and handle things your own way, you’ve long suspected that he had his methods to monitor you.
Regardless, you don’t mind in this case. Easier to explain. “Yes. Aside from the real-life difficulty of entering a celebrity’s hospital room without relation, I can feel something repelling me. I’m not sure if it’s something related to Jeno.”
“Something related to Jeno,” Ten repeats. “You mean, in the sense that he doesn’t want to go back to his body?”
“...Yes.” Heat climbs up your neck and pools in your cheeks and ears. This is not something that you’d want to talk to your boss about in a million years. Sure, you’re not getting granular into the details, but it’s not hard to figure out.
Ten doesn’t seem to bask in your embarrassment. Instead, he hums while resting back in his chair. “He doesn’t seem to have a lot of spiritual power, correct?”
You shake your head. “He’s harmless. Yangyang cleansed both of us as well. He said he could detect something like a curse from when Jeno was alive, but since he’s been alive this entire time…”
“You think that there’s a curse on his body.”
“Yes. That, or Jeno himself is preventing me.”
“You don’t work often with malicious spirits or wraiths, correct?” Ten asks.
“No.” Any signs of spirits with ill will had you calling Renjun or Chenle to handle it. You could handle one yourself, in theory, but it would require a sorcerer like Yangyang for protection. Wraiths, like the one encountered in the department store, were completely out of the question to handle alone.
“Well, there are some cases with benign spirits also,” Ten mutters to himself before raising his head back to address you. “Do you recall your case last year with the twins?”
“Of course.” Last year’s case was a textbook instance of conjoined spiritual attachment, where the spirits of two sisters had been linked following a tragic accident.
Ten’s eyes bore into you. “What was the root case of their attachment?”
You think for a moment. “Both sisters died with overwhelming guilt on behalf of the other. The first sister hated herself for causing the accident, while the other regretted her inaction toward preventing it.”
“Exactly!”
You stare at his wild burst of enthusiasm. “I don’t understand how that helps.”
He sighs. “Come on, remove your mindset from the traditional perspective. While the twins were benign spirits, it can happen with any spirit. We never talk about conjoined malicious spirits or wraiths because not only are they incredibly rare, but because we don’t care to find the root case as carefully.” Ten pauses before speaking carefully. “I don’t think it’s a curse. Was anyone else involved in Jeno’s accident?”
“He was alone, and it was truly an accident. Drunk driver,” you say, but your head is spinning at Ten’s information. “Jeno came to me alone, and he’s good. How could he be conjoined? Wouldn’t I have noticed another tethered spirit?”
Ten holds up a slender finger. “First thing: Both don’t need to be malicious. One is enough. Second thing: I think he’s in the process of being conjoined, but his body being alive is the only thing preventing that.”
Your blood runs cold with the realization. “The other spirit is blocking Jeno’s spirit until his body dies.”
Ten nods. “Most likely.”
Shit, you think. Shit shit shit.
How could you, however brief, entertain the notion of Jeno staying as a ghost by your side? Not only have you put his physical body on the line, but he would be tethered to another ghost upon death. If unable to separate them, you’d have to shove them through death’s door together against Jeno’s will. If his will could withstand the will of something more vengeful and malicious.
Your stomach churns. Your chair scrapes against the floor as you rise to your feet. “Thank you, Ten. I can’t believe I’ve never heard of this before.”
“It’s whatever. I just want my best worker back,” Ten waves away the praise. “I know we do things differently than how you were raised, but I truly believe that different perspectives strengthen us for situations like this.”
It’s rather philosophical for Ten, but you’re inclined to agree. “Thank you again. I will report back on my findings, hopefully when it’s all over.”
“You’d better make it to his body sooner rather than later,” Ten calls after you as you exit. “Don’t be afraid to use the others for backup either!"
You call back in assent, ignoring the anxiety growing within your chest. You fear failing, but you also fear what you'll lose if you succeed.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“Sensors…first aid kit…wards…” You say out loud as you parse through the contents of your equipment bag. “I think that’s everything. Hopefully Renjun and Chenle bring everything else that they wanted to work on.”
Jeno grunts in acknowledgment.
The engine rumbles as you turn the ignition. You glance at Jeno over your shoulder.
“How are you feeling?” You ask.
He hums again.
“Jeno.” You drop your voice. “You should be happy. You’re getting your body back. You won’t be a ghost anymore.”
The car shakes slightly as you pass over a speed bump. The only sound in the car is the light music flowing through your speakers.
“You haven’t seemed particularly happy either. Especially after your talk with Ten.” Jeno crosses his arms.
You gape at him through the rearview mirror. “Are you pouting?”
He looks away. “No.”
“I told you everything that I learned from that conversation,” you say with an exasperated sigh. “This will be a happy occasion, once we overcome the spirit guarding you.”
“Even so,” he says. “You look like you want nothing to do with me. You’ve avoided me at every turn, and that’s with me being bound to you.”
He’s not completely incorrect. You have been avoiding him, but all of the reasons lie with yourself first.
You turn into the hospital parking lot and park into the first spot you see. The car’s barely off when you whip around to face Jeno with a glare.
“First and foremost, I’m doing my job,” you assert. “Right now, my focus is reuniting your spirit with your body so you can get your memories back and return to your normal life.”
“Tell me one thing.” His voice lowers. “Are you included within my normal life?”
“Not now, Jeno. Please.” This is exactly what you wanted to avoid.
“If not now, then when?” He argues. “You say nothing is wrong, but you’re acting like this is the end.”
You choose each word carefully. “We don’t know how you’ll react after reuniting with your memories.”
“This again,” he snorts. “You don’t know how I’ll react, but I do. I may not have my memories, but I know I will still want to be with you. That won’t change.”
You give him a sad smile. “Our memories are us. You might change your mind once you see everything in context.”
“I won’t,” he insists.
“It’s possible,” you push back.
“Think about it,” he says. His eyes shine with determination. “My soul isn’t even tied to my physical body. It’s tied to you. It wants to be with you.”
“It wanted me to solve the mystery of your curse,” you respond. “There’s no other reason for it.”
A cool sensation washes over your hand as Jeno’s passes through yours. “I know you won’t admit it, but I know you care about me too. You don’t want me to go.”
Your eyes flick to his angrily. “You must go, or I failed as your guide. End of discussion.”
You yank your car door open and stumble out without hearing his response. Luckily, he gives you the space. Your heart aches. Jeno’s right, of course–you don’t want him to go. He insists that his memories won’t change his feelings, but his openness to abandoning his body reveals his true belief: Jeno’s memories are a wild card, and neither of you truly know how it will change things. You fear giving yourself to Jeno only to immediately lose him again.
You’re thankful to see Renjun and Chenle pull up minutes later. You take a deep breath and relax your body.
Renjun’s all business immediately. “Do you have Yangyang’s wards?”
You ruffle through the bag and hand them over.
“I’m heading up first,” he says. “They should dismantle whatever repelled you within ten minutes. Get everything ready with Chenle first, then head up when you’re ready.”
He’s gone in a flash.
“Hello to you too,” you say to his retreating back.
“He stayed up late modifying some of his tools.” Chenle says as he climbs out of the car. “Not sure he slept at all, actually.”
“Whatever gives him more confidence that we can actually catch this thing.” You lean against the car and watch as Chenle puts on his goggles. “Any specific strategy for today?”
“We’re pretty limited by the room itself,” he thinks aloud. “First, Renjun deploys the wards and we hope that Yangyang’s magic is able to rip a hole in that spiritual block. From there, we might have to…open the door and hope for the best.”
You shudder. “I hope it’s nothing like the one from the department store.”
“You and me both.” Chenle nods to a spot over your shoulder; peeking over confirms that Jeno’s finally emerged from the inside of the car. “You both ready for this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you mutter. “Let’s do this.”
Getting into the hospital is much easier than you expected. You’re not sure what Renjun did when he entered, but there’s no staff around when you enter. It’s too easy to slink upstairs to Jeno’s floor without bumping into a soul.
Creepy, you think. It reminds you too much of the atmosphere in the department store.
Chenle must think the same thing, as he pulls out his sensor. The device starts with a faint beep that escalates and amplifies into a constant ring as the elevator rises.
When the doors open with a ding, you slink out into the hallway easily. You turn down the aisle towards Jeno’s room, heart racing as you see a familiar body splayed onto the ground.
“Shit, Renjun!” You gasp as your party rushes over to your coworker.
You lift his torso so that he’s propped up against the wall outside of the room. His face is pale, and his breaths shallow.
“I’m okay,” he coughs. “Yangyang’s stupid magic just had some recoil. Knocked the wind out of me. It worked, though. I think.”
You glance at the door. Sure enough, there’s a big hole blown through the center of the door itself. The room behind the hole is completely dark from the lack of light inside, save for the faint beams of light leaking in from the hallway. Glass from the door window scatters on the floor, and the scent in the air is a little smoky.
“Um,” Chenle’s own face pales in a mirror of Renjun’s. “Shit, did anything come out? Should I just open it?”
“It’s still there. No need to worry about me, either.” A weak hand waves a familiar capsule in the air. “I can protect myself with this, if the thing decides to come out.”
You both stare at him, then each other. It’s absolutely insane, but what else can you do? There’s no way he’ll be able to outrun a wraith if need be.
“Do you want to do the honors?” Chenle asks.
Your gaze connects with Jeno’s. His eyes are wide with a silent plea: Don’t.
It motivates you to step forward. “I will. Stay behind unless it gets violent.”
You take a deep breath. You still grip onto the door handle despite the hole blasted through the center. “One…two…three!”
You push through the door. The lights flicker on with the motion of the door. You gasp at the sight in front of you.
There, standing between you and Jeno’s body laid across the hospital bed, is the spirit of his co-star. The same balding, middle aged man that Jeno’s sister thought was a mentor figure to her brother.
“Good evening!” The spirit smiles at you. He’s still wearing his costume from set; a fact that sends a shiver down your spine. “Your friend had a mighty big entrance there, blowing through the door like that. It nearly blew my head off.”
“Forgive him, he was just trying to get in.” You step forward cautiously. “May I ask why you’re in front of this man’s body?”
“Oh, quite.” His smile turns empty. His beady eyes bore into you. “I’m waiting until he dies. People were expecting him to adopt my legacy, since I took him under my wing, but I never quite liked his attitude. They let anyone act these days, it seems.”
“I see.” The ghost is reciting his reasoning, but all of his emotions and words are empty. If there's a soul there, it remains in fragments only.
You reach into your pocket to grasp Renjun’s device. The ghost’s eyes snap to the movement before inspecting your face with narrowed eyes.
“I don’t think I know you,” he says. “A friend of his?”
“Of sorts,” you say. You release the safety. “More of a fan waiting to meet him in the flesh, really.”
“Well that won’t do,” the ghost says. His outline pulses and expands in front of your eyes. “We’re not open to meet and greets.”
Jeno’s voice yells your name. “Get out of his way, now!”
Both you and the wraith’s head snap towards Jeno, who’s appeared in the doorway.
“Damn it Jeno, I said stay behind–!”
The wraith rumbles in what sounds like a laugh. “Perfect,” it drawls. “I can finally deal with you myself!”
You sprint out of the door before it has a chance to lunge. The lights in the hallway flicker as you hear the screeching behind you. You’re not so much running for yourself as much as you are for Jeno’s sake; if you don’t get ahead, then he doesn’t have a chance due to the invisible leash between you.
The hallway blurs. The wraith screeches—too close. You don’t look back. You turn one corner sharply, and then another, and then you quickly lose track of your position. You pray that either Chenle’s able to keep up or that you’re somehow headed in the correct direction.
“Stop running!” It bellows.
“I don’t even remember you!” Jeno calls back. “But from what I saw, you were a shit actor anyway!”
Finally, like a light at the end of the tunnel, your eyes focus on Renjun posted at the end of the hallway. You could pivot to another turn, but another idea takes hold as you barrel straight forward.
“Chenle, your ass better be close by!” You shriek as you sprint towards Renjun. “Jeno–!”
“I know!” He shouts back.
The two of you sprint straight toward Renjun, who has his device pointed at the ready for your cue. You continue full steam ahead, ignoring the crashes and high pitched screams behind you.
Then, instead of blazing past the entrance to Jeno’s hospital door, you change your trajectory. “Now!” You scream as you veer suddenly to the left, sliding into the room and away from Renjun. Jeno’s spirit flies right in front of you, completely safe from the line of fire.
The light from Renjun’s device makes your eyes water from its searing brightness. The wraith swirls closer to it slowly, but it’s able to resist more than the one you’d seen at the store. As it gets pulled past the doorway, its head suddenly twists to leer at you.
Your heart gets caught in your throat. You make a move for your own device, but then you hear a yell accompanied by another flash of light closing in from the other direction.
It must be Chenle, you realize. Sure enough, the counteracting beam of light closes in from the other side. The spirit tries to resist, but eventually it’s forced into Renjun’s capture device with a final scream into the unknown. Renjun seals the device tightly with the lock mechanism.
You blink as both lights disappear. The wraith is gone now–all that’s left is you, Jeno, and your two coworkers panting with hands shaking around their equipment.
“He’s gone,” you gasp, shaking yourself. You look up at Jeno. “You’re finally free.”
Chenle and Renjun both look worse for wear, but they still rise to wobbling feet and shuffle towards the exit.
“You don’t have to leave immediately,” you insist, alarmed at their sluggish moments.
Renjun shakes his head. “We’ll just wait outside. You guys should close it out together alone, just like how you started.”
Just like that, they’re hobbling down the hallway for the exit. The door swings closed, despite the gaping hole through the center. You turn your attention to the rest of the room.
Jeno–rather, Jeno’s body–lays on the hospital bed. His chest rises and falls, and the monitor at his side measures a steady, normal heart rate. There’s no frown lines or signs of anything wrong on his face; the real Jeno seems completely at peace.
“Like what you see?” Ghost Jeno asks behind your ear. His eyes crinkle into half moons as you jump from his proximity.
“I’ve just never seen one of my ghosts in person before,” you breathe. “You know, considering everyone else is actually dead.”
“And here I thought you would say I look better than in the movie,” he pouts.
In all honesty, he does look better in real life. You’d go as far to say that neither the movie or his pictures do him justice. From his sculpted facial features to the smoothness of his skin, he looks more like a piece of artwork than a human. If ghost Jeno was enough to make your heart cartwheel, being in the same room as his physical self makes it tumble in your chest.
Ghost Jeno floats over his body so that he hovers in a direct mirror. “So…how does this work?”
Your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”
“How do I…” He claps his hands together. “Merge back? Are you supposed to do something?”
“Why would I have to do something?” You ask. “Shouldn’t you try climbing back into it first?”
He raises his hands up. “You’re the spirit expert. Since I’m tied to you I thought maybe there would be some other requirements. You could always try kissing my body in my sleep? Disney style?”
In spite of yourself, a smile tugs at your lips. “If I have to start kissing people as part of the job, I think I’ll have to go out of business.”
Jeno raises his eyebrows. “But you’d try it this once, right? For me?”
“Stop stalling.” Heat floods your face, and you pinch the bridge of your nose. “Just try. The easiest method first, thank you.”
“Okay.” His expression softens. “I’m going to try and go back now.”
You stare at each other, suspended in the moment. You’re sure, then, that you’re both thinking the same thing.
“I’ll probably stay long enough to confirm it works,” you say slowly. “I should probably leave before the real you wakes up, just in case…”
“No,” Jeno says. “I’m definitely going to remember you.”
Your smile flattens. “You can’t guarantee that.”
“I just have a feeling,” he says. “So please stay.”
Every cell of your body urges you to leave. If you were attuned to the voices already passed over into the afterlife, you’re sure that you would hear every Spirit Hunter before you screaming to respect tradition. Lead the soul, break the tie.
But that’s the thing: you’re alone in this world, and you’re severed from those who have crossed over. It’s the sincerity in Jeno’s eyes that reminds you of who’s been here with you during these last few months. Even if all of these memories together become solely yours to carry, you can at least honor this last moment together.
Against all logic and dogma, your gut trust in Jeno leads you to say: “Okay.”
His silhouette relaxes. “Alright,” he says. “See you later.”
You watch, breath held, as his soul finally connects with his body. His physical body twitches as he makes contact, but nothing else happens as Jeno’s ghost submerges into himself. His body catches its breath–your heart drops–but after a brief moment, he continues the same, deep breathing in and out.
You walk to the side of his bed. Examining the area around him, there’s no trace of Jeno’s ghost; he must have been accepted, you determine.
As Jeno shows no signs of waking up, you linger at his bedside, unsure of what to do. Sure, you’d promised that you’d stay, but what did that mean? Sit at his side until he woke up? What if he didn’t remember you, and he woke up to a complete stranger staring at him?
You take another look at the smooth lines in his face and soften. Jeno has a whole bank of memories to parse through. Sure, your time together had meant a lot to both of you, but you wonder how much of that devotion belonged solely to the ghost. A part of you still fears seeing the look on his face–confusion, yes, but more so indifference.
I stayed, you think. I stayed and made sure the transfer was successful. I can leave, for now, and come back to visit when he’s awake.
It’s a weak promise to yourself; you know that if you leave now, it will be infinitely difficult to find the courage to come back and face him later. You stop to brush one of his stray hairs back into place before leaving.
“Bye for now,” you whisper.
As you turn away, a hand snaps over your wrist and yanks you back around.
“You said you would stay,” Jeno croaks. One of his eyes squints at you. “Liar.”
The words barely stammer out. “I-I was going to come back–”
Jeno pulls you into his chest, both arms cradling around you gently. You’re so used to the transience and lightness of his ghost form that this physicality feels the opposite–firm and solid. Here.
“Jeno…?”
“I’m just happy that I can finally hold you,” his voice muffles into the crook of your shoulder. “I would’ve stayed by your side forever as a ghost, regardless, but this is way better.”
“Yeah,” you sniffle. A few tears fall down your cheeks and drip onto his hospital gown. “I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me.”
“I told you I had a gut feeling,” Jeno says as he pulls away. He cradles your face in his hands and wipes the tears away with the pads of his fingers. “Have some faith.”
“I’m sorry,” you breathe through the hiccups.
His hands pull your face to his, and your lips brush together in a soft touch. Everything about kissing him is warm and comforting and right. You feel his heart beating underneath your hand on his chest, its quickening confirmed by the increased faint beeping of the monitor next to him.
“Don’t be sorry.” Jeno rests his forehead against yours. “I’ve already forgiven you.”
Your eyes wander over his pale and tired face. You realize, in this moment and through his words, the discrepancy in faith between Jeno and yourself. While you had forced the distance between you every step of the way, he’d pushed back with conviction. Jeno’s given you no room to doubt his commitment–if anything, you’re the evasive one.
You cup his face with one hand, and your thumb strokes his cheek slowly. “Hey?”
Jeno raises an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“I love you,” you whisper. It’s your leap of faith; overcoming the fear that comes with letting yourself be loved.
The startled look on his face is priceless. “Whoa,” Jeno says, eyes wide. “I–wow–”
Your entire body feels as though it’ll burst into flames. “Too soon?”
“No, never,” Jeno pulls you into his chest. The beeping on his heart monitor rapid-fires. “I just thought it would be too soon for you.”
“It would be, normally,” you admit, “but nothing about our circumstances is quite normal. It deserves an exception.”
“True,” he grins ear to ear. “I love you too. I’m all yours–clearly. Body and soul.”
Your heart sings. You have no idea what comes next–you’re not sure how you’re going to explain this to Jeno’s family, and you’re also not sure if being with a previous ghost client somehow violates some sort of HR rule–but you can’t bring yourself to care.
For so long, you’ve ached to be seen. Now you can say with the utmost certainty that you’ve found someone who understands you and accepts you fully, body and soul.
WHEN I SAID I WANTED A DOJAEJUNG COMEBACK I WASN’T EXPECTING THIS—
OH MY GOD
I really go "wow, this would be a fun concept to write a little about" and then a little turns into a fully fleshed out story with 10k+ words....my other WIPs are crying
