genre: childhood friends to lovers, smut, university-ish au
word count: 23.0k
warnings: smut (mndi), swearing, alcohol consumption, post graduation existentialism, the horrors of the modern job market, jealousy, insecurity, itty bitty age gap (reader is one year older), he’s obsessed he’s possessive he’s jealous but in a very jungwon way
note: I in fact did not keep it under 20k #oops. But I had lots of you in my comments and inbox telling me that you prefer longer fics anyway, so I hope you enjoy all 23k words of jungwon who years and pines over his childhood bestie <3
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One year your junior and a constant fixture in your life since before you lost your baby teeth, Yang Jungwon has always existed in a category of his own. You don’t see him as a brother, but you don’t see him as a man. He’s just… Jungwon. Steady, reliable, consistent Jungwon who’s always there when you need him.
It’s why you feel comfortable admitting to him the latest addition to your list of post-graduation anxieties: dating. Namely, the fact that no matter what you try, you just can’t seem to make it work. To make a connection stick. But Jungwon, despite all of his typical predictability, doesn’t take your complaints quite the way you expect him to.
or, you tell Jungwon that you think boys just don’t like you and he doesn’t think he’s ever heard anything quite so ridiculous.
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If you look at it from a distance and squint, there really isn’t anything wrong with Park Sunghoon.
In fact, if anything, he might be a little bit out of your league. With full lips, an easy smile, and long, dark hair that dusts over the angular planes of his cheekbones, he’s a sight for sore eyes. Especially since they are rather sore. Your eyes, that is.
You’ve spent the last week fine tuning your resume for all thirty-six job applications you fired off with crossed fingers and a silent prayer. Your daily screen time is reaching dangerous levels, and you doubt the blue light blocking glasses you picked up from the dollar store are doing much to mitigate the effects of it.
Life post-graduation has been like this, more or less. Six months ago, officially earning your university diploma felt like victory, like the end of a hard earned battle.
But now, you aren’t so sure. Not when the last one hundred eighty days have been nearly identical copies of monotonous despair, one rejected job application after another.
A cover letter here, a mission statement there, a detailed history of your personal opinion on the role of social media in modern society — that one had been for a marketing gig that you weren’t even interested in, not if the advertised salary were as low as the posting claimed. But at this point, you were starting to get desperate.
And still, it’s all been to no avail. Rejection after rejection. Ghosting after ghosting. Ridiculous, you think. These are hiring departments after all, not some frat boy you hooked up with last Friday after one too many shots of tequila. All your effort surely warrants at the very least a response.
But forty-seven of the eighty-nine jobs you’ve applied to in the last month seem to disagree.
And it’s not like you hate the part time gig you picked up at the flower shop a few blocks away from your apartment, but you didn’t work your ass off for four years, earning your degree in a specialized field, just to spend the rest of your life explaining the differences between roses and dahlias to men that piss off their girlfriends.
It’s disheartening, to say the least. Demoralizing. A rinse and repeat cycle that becomes more exhausting with each passing day, each unreturned email.
Most days, you feel a little bit like a shell of yourself. Hollowed from the inside out, just waiting for a scrap of decent news.
It’s why you only said no three times when Sophia suggested that maybe you break up the monotony with a little good, old-fashioned romance.
And not just romance. Dating, blind dating, because she swore the mystery of it all would make it more fun.
The first three times she suggested it, you waved her off easily with some half-witted excuse and a roll of your eyes.
But the fourth time, your friend caught you in a weak spot.
“Come on,” she’d insisted over an overpriced latte. She didn’t mind shelling out for a soy milk substitute, even. She was one of the lucky ones that managed to line up a job immediately after graduation, one she got from the third-year internship she had.
So Sophia had her big girl job and her big girl salary. You, on the other hand, were wincing at the bitter taste of drip coffee straight from the machine.
“I don’t know…” You’d trailed off, unsure. That morning, you’d received a rejection notice from a company you were genuinely excited about. The position matched your qualifications and professional interests to a T. You weren’t one to make premature bets, but when you clicked submit on the official application three weeks prior, part of you had felt like it was fate. A sure thing.
The email this morning proved you wrong.
Dear Candidate, it had started. Because of course, even after all the time you spent tailoring your resume to their standards, you weren’t even worth the effort of typing your name.
Thank you for your interest in joining our team. We regret to inform you that we have decided to move forward with other candidates at this time. If, in the future, other positions become available, please do not hesitate to apply again.
Rejection wasn’t anything new at this point, but this one stung. It felt personal.
You were tired of constantly hearing no, of always having every path blocked the second you worked up the courage to venture down it. You were desperate for something to take your mind off of it all.
You wanted to do something fun. And more than that, you needed a reminder that you weren’t a failure. That at least in some capacity, your time and your presence and your efforts were worth something.
If the only available context for that was a date, even a blind one, so be it.
“It’ll be fun,” Sophia insisted. “I promise. Besides, the guy I have in mind is really cool. He’s been at my company for a couple of years now, and he’s really friendly, even to the new hires. Comes off a little cold at first maybe, but I think he’s just a little shy. You’d like him.”
You still weren’t sold. You took another long sip of black coffee and winced at the taste of burnt beans.
“What was his name again?” you asked.
Sophia grinned, knowing she’d finally won. “Sunghoon,” she told you, smile entirely too smug for your liking. “Park Sunghoon.”
Now, a week later, you can’t help but curse yourself for caving. After all, blind dates are a far cry from romance, and the only thing that your time with Sunghoon is doing, lovely as he may be, is giving you a different source for your headaches.
Across from you, Sunghoon takes a slow sip of red wine. His eyes stay where they should. You can at least appreciate that Sophia didn’t set you up with a total sleaze. If anything, you think he looks a bit unsure when he meets your gaze.
After another moment of stilted silence, he asks, “What do you like to do for fun?” You watch as Sunghoon swirls his half full glass before setting it back down on the table. Aerating it, probably. He strikes you as the kind of person that isn’t entirely bullshitting when they say they know their wines.
It’s a perfectly normal question, run-of-the-mill for a first date. And yet, your mind can’t seem to do anything but come up completely blank.
What do you like to do for fun? Even privately, you're beginning to wonder. It’s as if the job search has taken any joy you used to find in your free time and turned it into existential dread.
You like to go for walks, but it’s been extra rainy these days and you hate how the late autumn air makes your skin feel sticky after just a few minutes. Not to mention the end of season mosquitoes. You swear they’re bigger than any other time of year.
You like to read, but the last time you opened a book for pleasure was half a year ago. You’re pretty sure that same exact novel is still sitting half-finished beneath your bedside table.
Cooking is nice for stress relief, you suppose, but your meals are more for function than show. You doubt Sunghoon wants to hear about the frozen spinach you sautéed last night.
You have been catching up on the latest season of a ridiculously staged reality TV show lately, but you can hardly own up to that. If an hour’s worth of catty drama and hair pulling every Sunday night is the first hobby you think of, Sunghoon will no doubt think you’re the most vapid person he’s ever met.
So instead you say, “Oh, you know.” You try a laugh, hoping it will make you seem easy going instead of cagey. “Things.”
Sunghoon just arches a brow. He doesn’t know. That’s why he asked.
And it’s not like it’s a crime to be awkward on first dates, but you’re starting to feel like you’d be given a life sentence without parole if it was.
Desperate to get his gaze off of you, you return the question. “What about you?”
Maybe the universe will spare you and Sunghoon will be equally bad at condensing his life into bite-sized pieces easily digestible on first dates. Maybe his good luck starts and ends with his face and he’ll be equally tight-lipped about his own interests.
But then, after a pause to gather his thoughts, he starts talking. Your hope for equal footing starts to circle the drain with more urgency.
“I’ve been really into exercising lately,” he tells you. “I grew up figure skating, so it’s been nice to get back to doing something more physical. It’s been great, too, trying out some new protein-focused recipes and getting out for runs when the weather allows it. I really miss the ice, but it just isn’t feasible with work and everything else these days. It’s been fun to try out some new hobbies that are somewhat similar.”
“Oh,” you flounder for a moment. It’s truly pathetic, you think. Maybe talking about yourself is difficult, but how are you so unable to even respond to his answers? “That’s nice.”
Sunghoon, to both his credit and Sophia’s, really does seem to be a nice guy. He’s trying. Doing his best to keep the conversation going.
“Do you like to exercise?” he asks.
You wonder distantly if following a YouTube video at home on yoga for stress relief once in a while counts.
Deciding it doesn’t, at least not to a former figure skater, you shrug. “Not really.”
“Oh,” he nods. After a moment of awkward silence, he asks, “What do you think about the wine?”
It’s a simple question, an easy question, but it’s hard to get momentum once you’ve lost it. To you, this date already feels a bit like a sinking ship and even a question as simple as this feels like a test you’ll inevitably fail.
“It’s nice,” you say. “Goes well with the food.” And unfortunately does very little to soothe your frayed nerves.
“I agree,” Sunghoon nods. “Apparently it’s made from grapes grown in a specific region of southern France. They get more sunlight than the average vineyard, and the soil is fertilized in some special way that makes the flavor more intense.”
He smiles at you, and it’s objectively gorgeous. The kind of look that you feel like you should be fawning over, that you should go home dreaming about.
Park Sunghoon is the kind of guy that feels made for fantasies. Thinking about it now, you’re not really sure how he could even be single, or how Sophia managed to convince him to see you tonight.
But no matter how long you wait for the butterflies to come, they just… don’t.
It’s not because you don’t like him, but the idea of getting to know him, of letting him get to know you, is suddenly exhausting.
You’re afraid that whatever parts of yourself you reveal will come up short, will inevitably be found lacking. Your hobbies aren’t interesting enough for a guy like him. You’re not particularly well-traveled or well-read, and you did well in your degree but not enough for it to be part of a dinner conversation.
You just… you don’t feel interesting. Not in the kind of way that guys like him are attracted to. So when you go home after another half hour of stilted conversation and too-long lulls of silence, you’re not daydreaming about his smile or his dimples or the second date he definitely won’t ask you on.
Instead, you wait until you’re out of eyesight to let the smile you’ve been keeping plastered to your lips fall from your face.
Looking out at the sky, the sun that’s beginning to set on the horizon doesn’t feel like an omen or a fresh start. It just feels like a sunset. The end of another day full of nothing special. Unremarkable. Ordinary.
You’re not giddy or excited or particularly moved at all. You’re not angry either, though. Not disappointed. If anything, you feel a strange sense of hollowness, one with a glare that’s especially apparent under the street lights that are just beginning to glow.
You miss the days when things felt exciting, when you would meet the eye of someone cute across a lecture hall and go home daydreaming about it. Spinning around your room, kicking your feet like a schoolgirl with a crush.
It’s not Sophia’s fault. It’s not even Park Sunghoon’s. But when you finally get back home to your apartment and flick on the lights of your empty bedroom, all you do is sigh.
…..
You thought that when you walked across your university stage six long months ago and were officially given your diploma, you’d be done drowning your post-midterm stress with cheap beer.
But you forgot to account for one small detail — Jungwon.
You suppose your friendship with him might look a little strange from the outside, but he’s been a constant in your life since before you even knew how to tie your own shoes.
Like most childhood friendships, it wasn’t forged of your own volition. Your mother decided the summer before you started kindergarten that her new favorite hobby was going to be gardening. Which was fine and all, except for the fact that she knew literally nothing about gardening and had killed just about every houseplant she ever owned.
To her credit, she tried. She asked the kind elderly lady working the till at the garden supply store for advice and bought the overpriced gloves and trowel she suggested. She scoured blogs and Wikipedia articles and online forums for all the best and latest in flower cultivation.
But your mother simply did not have a green thumb, and after months of watching from her window in silent pity, Mrs. Yang decided to do something about it.
She took one look at your mother’s wilted tiger lilies and sighed. Gently, because even in her exasperation she managed to be kind, a trait she passed onto her son.
You weren’t so interested in whatever she told your mom about fertilizer and shearing, though. Nor were you really interested in the garden at all.
But you did find the boy currently hiding behind Mrs. Yang’s practical work pants far more fascinating than anything you’d seen in months.
Before school started, finding another kid your age was like striking gold. An only child, you were doted on by your parents but only rarely had the opportunity to play with other kids. This one, even if he was determined to hide out of sight, felt like a gift, a friend you were determined to make yours.
Back then, he was a shy kid.
It had taken a fair amount of coaxing from his mother, but he finally found the courage to meet your eye. To come out from his hiding spot and introduce himself.
Jungwon, he said his name was, and you gave him yours in return.
You asked about his birthday and could hardly contain the smug smile that spread across your lips when you realized he was younger than you. A whole ten months. Practically a baby. Nowhere near ready to start kindergarten, like you were. He’d have to wait a whole nother year.
Other than the bragging rights it afforded you, you didn’t mind so much.
That summer, Mrs. Yang helped your mother turn her misshapen, weed-addled, overgrown mess of a flower bed into something truly beautiful.
And nearly every time she came over, she brought Jungwon in tow. The two of you weren’t trusted to wander far yet, but he made your afternoons far more interesting, even under the watchful gaze of your mothers.
He was excited about the same things you were — searching for bugs in the flower bed, digging in the dirt with the plastic shovel set you’d been given for your last birthday, and building homes for the fairies you convinced him really existed using fallen leaves and twigs.
Your friendship might have begun as one of convenience, but the long, sunny afternoons you spent together ensured that none of it was forced.
Your mothers were thrilled too. Both of you were overly curious only children, and it was nice to have your attention occupied elsewhere, to share private smiles at how sweet your little friendship was becoming.
They sighed when you came back from an afternoon of playing with dirt smudged across your clothes and cheeks and cooed when you fell asleep after washing up, sprawled out across your living room floor with pillows you’d pulled off the couch.
Even though you’d been anticipating it for months, the beginning of kindergarten was something you started to dread. And the further you got in your academic journey, the one-year gap between you started to feel less like victory and more like a curse.
You still remember the failed math quiz you brought home from second grade one afternoon, a big, red F written across the top even though you were usually excellent with times tables.
It had taken a fair amount of coaxing, but your mother finally got the truth from you. How you were thinking that if you managed to do poorly enough to fail the second grade, you could just do it again next year. With Jungwon.
Of course she explained to you how terrible of an idea it was, and you didn’t try it again, but for the next few months, every aced exam still felt a little bit like defeat.
Until the seventh-grade, that is, when you decided to fully embrace your role as his elder.
Jungwon was just starting middle school, after all. He was brand new to the world of lockers and passing periods and so much axe body spray it seemed to permanently hover outside the boy’s locker room like a rain cloud.
You made him pinky promise you not to buy any, and all he did was scrunch his nose in distaste, insisting that he never would, that he didn’t like strong smells anyway.
Jungwon might have been new to it all, but you, however, had already been this whole middle school thing for a year. You were one year older and wiser and could help him navigate all of the pitfalls with your hard earned expertise.
You thought it was the best idea ever, an example of your commendable generosity and kindness, until one Wednesday afternoon proved you entirely wrong.
You were hovering just behind him as he worked through his locker combination, weight shifted to one hip as you balanced your science textbook against the other.
Still a couple inches taller than him thanks to the growth spurt that had hit you early, you didn’t have to crane your neck too hard to see over his shoulder. To provide any assistance he might need.
Finally, after getting the combination right, his locker clicked open.
Jungwon sighed. Glancing back at you, he mumbled, “Why are you here? Don’t you have science right now?”
“Yeah,” you nodded, gesturing to the textbook in your hands. “But that’s okay. I don’t mind waiting for you.”
“I have math next,” he pointed out, as if you didn’t already know. As if you didn’t have his schedule memorized before he did. “Which is in the opposite direction. Just go. You don’t want to be late again.”
It’s true. You don’t. Your mom said she’d shave an hour off of your allotted Saturday cartoon-watching time if it happened again.
But it was okay. It was a sacrifice you were willing to make. You told him as much.
“That’s okay,” You shook your head. “I’ll be fine. Besides, Mr. Lee usually isn’t too strict about tardies, so—“
“Just go,” he interrupted, back still turned to you. This time, his voice was sharper than usual. It cut through the air like an accusation, leaving you more than a little shocked. “You don’t have to follow me around everywhere.”
You frowned at that. But still, you thought that maybe he was just worried about you, about whatever punishment your mother had promised. So, to ease his worries, you insisted, “I don’t mind. I’m a year older, so I should—“
“Ten months,” he corrected, voice like ice. And he still wouldn’t look at you. “You’re ten months older.”
Your frown deepened. “Thats the same thing.”
“No it’s not,” Jungwon shook his head, voice rising. His anger, his annoyance, were apparent now. “Stop treating me like a baby.”
“I don’t—” You tried to protest.
But he wasn’t having it. “You do.” He insisted. “You treat me like I’m a little kid and it’s driving me insane. The other boys on the taekwondo team think so, too. They’re starting to say things—“
“What kinds of things? Who?” It didn’t matter if he was angry or annoyed at you. As far as you were concerned, if anyone was giving Jungwon a hard time, it was your business too. You didn’t know the boys on the taekwondo team very well, but you were suddenly feeling very violent, a bad idea given that the boys in question were trained in martial arts and you’d spent no time on a training mat in all twelve years of your life.
“It doesn’t matter,” Jungwon shook his head. He still wouldn't turn around and look at you. “Just leave me alone.”
You’d had fights before. Little tiffs that started nearly the same day you’d met. But they were always small, just bouts of bickering that may have left you pouting but never with any truly hurt feelings.
This was different. This… this stung.
Just like the tears that started to gather against your lash line without your permission, pressing dangerously against the inner corner of your eyes.
Still, you couldn’t help but ask, a little pathetically, “You don’t want me to walk with you?”
“I don’t need you to follow me around everywhere,” he repeated, crueler than he had to be, “fussing over me like you’re my mom or something.”
“Fine,” was all you said. Suddenly, you were grateful that he wouldn’t look at you. If he saw how affected you were, that you were on the verge of crying, it would be more humiliating than you could handle. “Just walk by yourself then.”
Turning, you only paused once you were a few steps away. “And here,” you’d reached into your pockets, pulling out the coupons you’d cut out of the newspaper earlier this week, the surprise you were planning to show him after school. “You can just have these. Give them to your taekwondo friends, since you care what they think so much.”
Jungwon waited until you were around the corner to turn around, to see what you’d thrown at his feet. Bending, he picked them up, guilt swirling deep in his gut as he tucked the coupons for half price ice cream from the nearby shop, the one that you knew always had his favorite flavor, into his pocket.
You didn’t talk to Jungwon for a week.
You were late to class that day, partly because of Jungwon and partly because you had to spend the next ten minutes calming down in the bathroom stall while you wiped evidence of your tears away.
True to her word, your mom didn’t let you watch cartoons Saturday morning. And you spent all your extra time thinking about where exactly you went so wrong.
The silent treatment didn’t last long. You and Jungwon were like that — you’d spent so much time together that you’d learned how to get over things quickly.
Grudges never held for long, and time didn't need to pass too far for both of you to forget what you were mad about in the first place.
But this time, even after the dust had settled, things between you didn’t go entirely back to normal. For starters, you didn’t wait for him by his locker anymore, didn’t offer to walk him to math or science or P.E. or any of his other classes.
Even though the two of you shared a school, the only time you really saw him anymore was on the bus ride home. And that was only on the days he didn’t have taekwondo practice.
But with Jungwon, things had a way of coming back around. It wasn’t long before he was seeking you out intentionally again, before your friendship felt less like walking on eggshells and more like something comfortable.
But you had learned two valuable lessons that day by his locker.
One, Jungwon was sensitive. More so than you ever realized. In ways you didn’t always fully understand.
And two, the gap between your ages may have been small, but he really, truly resented any attention you brought to it. In his own words, he hated it when you made him feel like a kid.
So you learned. You adjusted. And by the time high school came around, you were practically a pro at ignoring the ten months that separated you.
There were still times that you wanted to guide him, to help him, but you did your best to hold yourself back. You tried to empathize, too. To see things from his point of view. It made sense, you supposed. Jungwon didn’t want a second mother. He just wanted a friend.
One that wouldn’t dote on him too much or smother him or embarrass him in front of his teammates. That’s not to say he didn’t use your age to his advantage on occasion, though.
When you got your driver’s license a whole year before him, he wasn’t shy about asking for rides. And when junior year chemistry proved to be harder than he thought, he accepted your journal full of meticulously taken notes with little more than a sigh of relief.
You didn’t mind so much. Besides, it wasn’t like you were the only generous one in your relationship. Friendship with Jungwon never felt like a burden, never felt like a debt to settle.
For all of your age-afforded privileges, he more than made up for them just by being there. Because Jungwon grew up in the way few boys do—he learned to observe, to listen before he spoke. To treat words like something precious and use them only when he really meant them.
Jungwon was your confidant, your most trusted source of advice. You went to him with things that you felt like you couldn’t tell anyone else, and he received it all with open arms and a thoughtful furrow of his brow.
Jungwon wasn’t the type to pass judgment. He just listened, contemplated, and then gave the best, most logical answer he could think of.
He talked you down from your spiral of self-hate after you convinced yourself a failed physics test was the end of your life junior year and helped you analyze the pros and cons of your top university choices when your high school graduation date started approaching with alarming speed.
Affection came easy between the two of you, because it didn’t feel complicated. It felt natural, just like the day he introduced himself amongst the ruins of your mother’s failed garden.
So when you told him, senior year, that you agreed with his advice, that you had decided to attend university in your hometown, a mere thirty-minute drive from the high school you were graduating from, all he did was smile.
He hugged you after you accepted your diploma from your principal and handed you a bouquet of flowers. He complained about having to stick around in high school for another year, and you assured him that senior year was different from the others. It was better.
Your year apart was difficult, but it also gave you space for things you hadn’t considered before. Things like other friends. You met Sophia at freshman orientation, and the two of you became inseparable.
You still saw Jungwon, of course. Weekends, holidays, and even the occasional weeknight dinner meant he was still very much a part of your life. And when you couldn’t meet in person, you talked. Texted. Called.
Which is exactly how you broke the news of your first ever boyfriend.
There had been crushes in high school, but they were fleeting. Insignificant. This was different. Jay was different, and just as you always had, you spared Jungwon none of the gory details.
You told him all about the flowers he bought you, all about how romantic it was when he asked you on a proper date. How sweet it was when he picked you up and opened the passenger door of his car for you and how special you felt when he picked up the dinner check without so much as a sideways glance at you.
But Jungwon, steady, reliable Jungwon, seemed to become uncharacteristically terse whenever Jay came up. His texts got shorter, his responses further and fewer between.
The calls that used to drag on for hours started ending suddenly whenever you brought up your boyfriend. Jungwon always had an excuse ready—he had homework to do or a project to finish or an errand to run for his mom.
But you’d have to be stupid not to notice the common denominator in it all. Jay.
For a while, the choice was easy. Jay was here, with you. He wanted your attention and your time. He liked hearing about your day and telling you about his and spending as much time with you as your schedules allowed.
Jungwon, on the other hand, was becoming more difficult to reach the longer your relationship went on.
Slowly, but steadily, Jay started to become the person you went to for advice. The contact name you searched for whenever you had something to say. The boy you spent your weekends with, making new memories, laughing about nothing.
You trusted him. You were new to it, the feelings, the rush of it all, but after a few months, you were pretty sure you loved him.
Jay was your first relationship, your first real boyfriend, and eventually, the person you trusted enough to lose your virginity to.
Which made it all the more devastating when he told you, sometime in the middle of spring semester, that he didn’t want to see you anymore. That he enjoyed your time together, but he didn’t feel the same spark you did. The same level of connection.
You cried until you were numb, and you were numb until one by one, your feelings started to come back in overwhelming waves. And every time they did, the only person you really wanted to see was your best friend.
The boy you barely even spoke to anymore.
You weren’t sure if he would even answer, the night you drove all the way to his house in the pouring rain. You stood there on his porch, pathetic, soaked from just the short walk from your car, when he opened the door and found you like that.
“Jungwon,” you breathed.
He hadn’t said anything, just pulled you inside. Checked the warmth of his shower until it was the perfect temperature and left a towel and a clean pair of clothes on the bathroom counter for you. Waited outside, on the edge of his bed until you emerged twenty minutes later.
Clean, dry, but with eyes so red he knew you must have been crying.
He didn’t ask you what happened. He just scooted back until he was sitting against his pillows, patted the space next to him in invitation. Pulled you tight to his chest as you sobbed, long heartbreaking sounds that tore from somewhere deep in you.
You eventually told him everything—your breakup, your heartbreak, the sudden loneliness it had left in its wake.
Jungwon just held you through it, wiping your tears and soothing your cries as you laid against his chest.
And you talked. For hours, about nothing, about everything. All the little things you hadn’t been able to tell him for months, all the parts of your life that you’d wished you could share with him.
As it turns out, you’d missed important updates from his life, too. For starters, he’d chosen a university. The same one you were currently attending. You were so excited that you’d be together again, but part of you hated it, the way you’d missed out on such important news.
That night, things shifted again. It didn’t matter what your relationship status was or what distance separated you—the two of you promised not to ever go so long without talking again.
The following September, Jungwon officially started university at the same school as you, and it was the most excited you’d been in months. You loved showing him around all of your favorite places, pointing out the secret study spots you’d found in the library, introducing him to all of your friends and the coffee shop you loved just off campus.
It felt natural, felt right to have him in your life again. Even when things got busy, when you were so bogged down with assignments and projects and internships, you did your best to make time for one another.
You didn’t date again, and if he did, you never heard about it. When friends asked, you always gave the same excuse. You were too busy. You were focusing on yourself. School was more important to you than a relationship right now.
But if you were honest with yourself, your relationship with Jay had left you with a unique set of scars. You were scared of falling in love again only to be met with rejection, of course, but you were also terrified of losing Jungwon. Of the way letting someone new into your life could mean pushing him away, despite what you’d promised each other that night in his bed.
It’s why you haven’t mentioned Sunghoon to him yet. It’s not a secret, exactly, but it’s also not something you’re dying to share.
Now that you’ve graduated, you can hardly believe you’re standing outside Jungwon’s apartment with a six pack of cheap beer dangling from your fingertips. But something about all of your recent failures has you desperate for a bit of release, and you’re sure he could use some relaxation after midterms, too.
If anything, you’re hoping it will come as a nice surprise.
You knock on the door to his apartment, beer dangling loosely from your other hand. But when the door pulls open, it’s not Jungwon who greets you on the other side.
“Hi,” Jake grins, leaning against the doorframe. “Long time no see.” Jungwon’s roommate of two years now, he glances down at the beer. “And you brought presents.”
“Not for you, Sim,” you shake your head. “Is Jungwon home?”
“Depends.” Jake grins. “Are you just gonna leave if he’s not?”
You sigh, do your best not to roll your eyes. You’ve been subject to Jake’s antics long enough to know not to take any of it to heart. A golden retriever in every sense of the word, flirting comes as natural to him as breathing.
You’d be more worried if he suddenly started talking to you like a normal person.
“Can you tell me when he’ll be back?” You really should have checked to make sure Jungwon was home before driving all the way, but you’d only decided to come last minute. Besides, you remember what midterms were like. You wanted it to be a surprise.
“What’s the rush?” Jake asks. When you don’t bother to dignify that with a response, he pivots, “What are you up to these days?”
“Just working,” you shrug.
“Yeah?” he asks. “How’s post grad life treating you? Is the grass really greener after graduation?” Like Jungwon, he’s still a semester and a half away from it.
You laugh, but it sounds forced even to your own ears. “Something like that.”
“You’re still working at that flower shop over in your area, right? I was over there the other day, and I almost stopped by to say hi, but I couldn’t remember for sure. Is it—”
“I thought you said you were on your way out,” a voice interrupts from behind him. Jungwon’s. You’d know it anywhere. “Who are you talking to?”
That little shit. He lied to you. Or at least heavily implied it.
Jake at least has the decency to look sheepish when he glances at you. Opening the door wider, he reveals your best friend. Dressed in a pair of grey sweats and an oversized long sleeve white t-shirt, his hair is still slightly damp. Recently showered, if you had to guess.
“Surprise,” you grin weakly, holding up the pack of beer.
“___,” he breathes your name, surprise flickering across his features. His gaze falls to your feet for a moment before dragging back up to your face. “What are you doing here?”
“Is it a bad time?” The beer falls back down to your side. You really should have checked with him first before driving all the way here. “Sorry, I just wanted to surprise you.”
“No,” he shakes his head. “Not a bad time at all. Come in.” Side-eyeing Jake, he looks almost surprised to see him, as if he forgot he was even there. Then, he confirms, “You’re leaving, right?”
“Yep,” Jake nods, a trace of amusement flashing through his eyes. “I won’t be back until late.” He glances between the two of you. “Like, really late, probably. Enjoy… whatever this is.” Turning to you, he adds, “And it was good to see you again. Don’t be a stranger, yeah?”
“Sure, Jake,” you agree. “Have a good night.”
“You too,” he smiles. “Have fun.” Pausing for a moment, he considers, “Not too much fun, though—”
“Goodbye, Jake,” Jungwon interrupts, something unreadable crossing his features.
Jake takes the cue well enough. Stepping past the two of you, he leaves the apartment. The door closes behind him with a silent click.
And then it’s just you and Jungwon.
“You brought beer,” he reaches to take the drinks from you, passing them from your hand to his. “And yourself. What’s the occasion?”
“Midterms,” you explain. “I thought you could use a night off after all that studying. Besides, it’s been too long. The last time I saw you was when we got coffee, and that was already—”
“Two weeks ago,” he finishes for you. “Yeah.”
“Do you want to drink?” you ask, suddenly afraid you’ve placed your bets all wrong. Maybe midterms weren’t exhausting in the way that makes him want to drown his sorrows in cheap beer. Maybe they were just exhausting in the way that makes him want to crawl into bed. “I can come back a diff—”
Jungwon shakes his head. “It’s exactly what I need.” He smiles at you. It’s tired, but it’s genuine. “I’m glad you’re here.”
And that’s all it takes, all the reassurance you need to slip off your shoes and find a spot next to him on the living room sofa that’s seen better days.
It’s quiet at first, the two of you taking long sips as you ask the standard questions.
You ask how he thinks he did on midterms, and he says he’d rather talk about anything else.
He asks about your job search, and a shadow crosses your features as you also request a change in topic.
One bottle turns to two, and before long, your limbs are feeling heavier, your lips looser.
Jungwon looks at you, already flushed from the alcohol. He parts his reddened lips like he wants to say something. Closes them again.
Then, finally, “I heard something,” he says.
“Mm?” you hum. There’s a pleasant haze in your mind. One that makes it difficult to give much of a response at all.
A beat of silence passes. Another. You glance over at him, a question in your eyes, only to find his gaze already trained on your face.
Eventually, he gets it out. “You’re going on dates again.”
The tension in your shoulders is immediate. You’re not sure if he heard it from Sophia or somewhere else along the grapevine, but you suppose it doesn’t matter much either way. You shrug, feigning nonchalance. You have nothing to hide, you tell yourself. You didn’t do anything wrong. “I went on one.”
Jungwon takes a long sip of beer, the foam settling heavy when he sets it back down on the table. “How was it?” he asks. His voice is infuriatingly neutral. You can’t get a read on him.
“I don’t know,” you shake your head. “Fine.”
Jungwon’s palm splays against his knee, flexes. “Are you seeing him again?”
You feel a humorless laugh rising in your throat, one you barely manage to contain. “Probably not.”
You can feel his eyes boring into the side of your face when he asks, “Why?”
You sigh. This time, it’s you that takes a long sip of your drink. “I don’t know,” you shrug. Pulling your knees in towards your chest, you suddenly feel smaller than before. “It just wasn’t…” your words die as you try to find a way to explain the feeling you’d left the date with. Coming up blank, you decide instead on, “I don’t think he wants to see me again, anyway.”
You swear you feel a fraction of tension ease from the air. Still, Jungwon’s curiosity doesn’t seem to be sated. “Why not?” More to make you laugh than to actually guess at Sunghoon’s intentions, he asks, “Did you spill something on him?”
Wincing, you remember every one-word answer you gave. “I don’t think I spilled enough.”
Jungwon frowns, the turn of phrase not landing. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t know,” you repeat. “Sometimes, I just…” You lean your head back, letting it loll against the back of the couch. “I just feel like boys don’t really like me, you know?”
If you were looking, you’d see the way Jungwon goes completely still. A moment of silence passes before he breaks it, voice lower, less airy than before. “What did you just say?”
Head against the couch, you let out a small sound, breathless, a little pathetic. “Don’t make me repeat it,” you beg.
But Jungwon isn’t quite ready to let it go. You see his silhouette in your periphery, turning to face you fully. Leaning in, his attention is on you and nowhere else. His voice has an edge to it that you aren’t quite sure what to do with when he asks, “What do you mean, ‘boys don’t like you?’”
All you can do is sigh again. “I’m just… I’m not really charming or cute or good at small talk and things like that. I always say something weird or put my foot in my mouth, and it’s like I can see them losing interest in real time.”
Jungwon blows a stray strand of hair out of his eyes. Glances at you. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.”
“Jungwon,” you deadpan, “he asked me what my hobbies are, and I told him, verbatim, things.”
“Oh.” He pauses for a minute. Then points out, “Well, to be fair, that’s a horrible question.”
You frown. “It’s a standard first date question.”
“Yeah,” Jungwon agrees, “which is exactly why it’s horrible. No one wants to go on a first date and be asked all of the standard first date questions.”
You know that he’s only trying to comfort you, but something about him twisting the narrative so far in your favor just makes you want to sigh. You’re grateful for his defense, but it also feels a bit misplaced.
“How would you even know?” You try not to sound too mean, but the question comes out flat. “I bet you go on dates with those dimples and that…” you trail off, waving your hands noncommittally in his general direction.
Jungwon’s brows furrow. “You just gestured to all of me.”
“Exactly,” you nod. “You have that whole boy-next-door, easy going charm thing about you.” It’s true, and right now, you can’t help but think that it’s awfully unfair. “I bet you could ask whatever stupid standard first date questions you want and girls would still be falling at your feet.”
At face value, it’s a compliment. But there’s something about your tone, the trace remnants of sarcasm, of bitterness, that make him think otherwise.
“I’m not quite sure how to take that,” Jungwon finally tells you.
You sigh. You didn’t come here to project your insecurities on him. There might be layers of truth to it, but this isn’t his fault. You’re not being fair, and you know it.
“All I mean is that boys like you don’t have to try very hard. I feel like it all just comes so naturally to you. I wish I was like that, too. That’s all I’m saying.”
And Jungwon could protest, could launch into some speech about how you’ll find your person eventually, about how there’s someone out there for everyone.
But he knows you, is well-acquainted with that contemplative, overly self-critical look on your face. Can read all of your frustration and insecurity in the way you bite at your bottom lip.
You’re not looking for a lecture or false hope and certainly not empty words.
You came here with a case of beer and the intention to surprise him, to congratulate him for work well done.
He was the one that brought up the date, anyway. He knows that you’re not looking for advice. You’re looking for a friend.
So Jungwon waits for a moment before he says anything at all.
Then, he picks up your abandoned beer off the coffee table in front of you and holds it up to you. “C’mon,” he encourages gently, “join me.” He takes a sip of his own for good measure. “It isn’t going to drink itself.”
“I don’t know,” you sigh. “I already feel kind of—”
“I think I bombed econ,” he offers. You can’t tell if it’s true or not, but that’s not the point. He needs you out of your head. “Don’t make me drown my sorrows alone.”
You can’t help but think that for all the fuss he used to put up about you being older, he certainly doesn’t mind appealing to it when it’s to his advantage.
But even lukewarm beer looks tempting when it’s him that’s offering it to you. And you’ve never been good at saying no, at least not to Jungwon.
He knows it, too. Jungwon isn’t surprised when you accept the bottle from his hands with nothing more than a halfhearted grumble under your breath.
There’s no trace of shock in his eyes when you bring it straight to your lips despite your earlier protests.
He just grins before leaning back against his side of the couch, smile still stretching across his lips as he brings his own bottle up to join you.
…..
Thursday afternoons are your favorite time in the flower shop. Run by a kind woman in her late sixties, she takes advantage of the day to attend her weekly Zumba class at the senior center, which means you have the shop all to yourself, save for the occasional customer.
Usually, you’d savor the stillness. Use it to catch up on inventory or fulfill the handful or edible arrangement requests for tomorrow.
But today, the silence is making you jittery. Mostly because your mind won’t give you a moment of peace no matter how much you beg it too.
Despite the prediction you gave Jungwon three days ago in his apartment, Sunghoon did reach out to you again.
The message still sits at the top of your text threads like a curse.
I enjoyed our time together, he said. Succinct, straightforward, and all things considered, surprising. Are you free this weekend? I’d love to see you again.
And it’s flattering, so much so that you nearly find yourself agreeing without taking so much as a moment to think about it.
Sophia will be thrilled, you’re sure. And you won’t have to burden Jungwon again with tipsy confessions of your own insecurities.
But alone in the flower shop, another thought starts to creep in, just as your fingers hover above the keyboard. A feeling.
The same one you left from your last date with. That strange, hollow emptiness that had you spiraling for days, convinced there must be something deeply, fundamentally off about you.
Again, you start to wonder why you can’t just do it. Can’t enjoy a date and a free meal and the pleasant company of a handsome stranger. Why all of your answers always come out stilted, cagey, so terribly awkward.
Why you’re always waiting for the other shoe to drop, convinced that any scraps of attention that come your way must be part of some elaborate prank that the universe is playing on you.
Why even a barely-there, trace amount of vulnerability feels like nails on a chalkboard. Why you haven’t been able to form a real, meaningful connection with anyone since Jay. A relationship that ended nearly four years ago. It’s enough to make you feel a little pathetic.
Logically, you know that this is how it goes. You can’t form connections or welcome new things into your life without a leap of faith.
But the potential fallout is terrifying. The thought of trying, really trying, and still being found lacking is enough to sober even the most romantic of your fantasies.
Something about the status quo, no matter how boring or tiresome or monotonous, feels safe. Like a cage you’ve settled into and made comfortable.
Your fingers hesitate, then fall away completely. Locking the screen of your phone, you tuck it back into your pocket with a sigh.
Busying yourself with the arrangement orders, you do your best to push Sunghoon and his unanswered invitation from your mind.
For a while at least, you’re successful. The afternoon passes slowly.
A woman in her thirties comes, looking for a bouquet for her sister who just had a baby.
A man in his fifties wants to send flowers to his daughter’s office to wish her a happy birthday.
A couple comes in, hands intertwined, asking if your shop would be able to accommodate enough flowers for their wedding to be held at the end of the month.
You greet them, you smile, you answer their questions with patience.
And all the while, you leave Sunghoon’s question hanging.
As your shift draws to an end, late afternoon sunlight spilling through the windows, your phone buzzes in your pocket once more.
Half expecting to see a string of curses from Sunghoon, angry you ignored him, convinced you’ve wronged him, you're surprised when it’s Jungwon’s name that lights up your screen instead.
His short string of messages reads,
It was nice to see you again
Missed my favorite girl
Movie night this weekend at mine? Popcorn on me
Tugging your bottom lip between your teeth, you can hardly stifle the smile that threatens to overtake your entire face.
Unlike Sunghoon’s, Jungwon’s message doesn’t fill you with dread, doesn’t leave you with a sudden flurry of doubts and questions clouding your mind.
And, unlike his, it’s easy to say yes to.
You wait only a fraction of a second before sending your reply.
I’ll be there
…..
The left side cushion of Jungwon’s living room couch is starting to feel familiar at this point. It’s been less than a week since you were last here, and it already feels routine sinking down into it.
When Jake steps out from his room minutes after you settle in, he doesn’t comment on his roommate’s company. Just arches a brow.
“You two drinking again?” he asks.
Apparently, he gave Jungwon shit for forgetting to clean up one of the bottles after last time. Ironic, considering it’s Jake’s dinner dishes that are gathering dust in the sink.
“No,” Jungwon shakes his head. Remote in hand, he flicks through streaming service options until he lands on the one he’s looking for. “Just watching a movie.”
Jake pauses, eyes flickering towards the screen. “Which one?”
“Not sure.” Jungwon shrugs. “___ chose it.”
You turn over your shoulder, telling him the title. It’s some rom com that’s been terrorizing your twitter feed for weeks now. And then you offer, “You can join us if you want.”
You’re not sure if there’s enough space on the couch for the three of you, but you are the one crashing into their space. You’ll make it work if you have to.
“That’s alright.” Jake shakes his head. “I’m heading out.”
“Alright,” Jungwon waves him off without so much as a second glance.
“See you later,” you offer, still turned around.
Jake grins, looking at you before he makes his way to the door. “Enjoy your movie. And nice to see you again so soon, ___. I was worried you’d make me wait again.”
Next to you, Jungwon’s jaw clenches. He mutters something under his breath about making popcorn before standing up from his seat on the couch.
Jake leaves before he can rile Jungwon up any further, and the smell of popcorn begins to fill the room just as the opening credits begin to roll. An overzealous pop song plays in the background, one you recognize from the playlist your boss makes you put on shuffle, insisting the corny, upbeat lyrics will convince people to buy more flowers.
Jungwon comes back to the couch, sets the popcorn bowl on the table in front of you. He adjusts, moving closer. His knee brushes against yours. Both of you pretend not to notice. Intimacy and closeness is nothing new between the two of you. Hell, you grew up practically attached at the hip, sleeping in the same bed until you were in middle school.
But there was always practicality to it, a purpose. You held hands at the amusement park because you didn’t want to lose each other in the crowd. You let him put his head in your lap when you had a picnic in the park because the only other pillow available was the ant-filled grass.
This feels different. Intentional. Especially since there’s still plenty of space to his left.
You lean forward, reaching for the popcorn. The fabric of your pants rustles against his. Settling back into your seat, Jungwon takes his turn to reach forward. But instead of grabbing a fistful, he takes the whole bowl, bringing it to his lap.
“Here,” he nudges you. “It’s closer this way.”
You nod. Right. Closer.
In front of you, the movie begins to unfold. Saturated color grading, wardrobe choices that already look slightly dated despite the recent release date, and a female lead that first impressions paint as adorably quirky, it has all the makings of a brainless plot. The perfect way to waste a Friday night.
And Jungwon, who usually insists on holding his tongue until after the credits have rolled, leans a little closer to you just past the twenty-minute mark. Unnecessary, given how close the two of you are already sitting. His arm, bare from the short-sleeve shirt he wears, brushes against yours.
And his lips nearly touch the shell of your ear when he whispers, “This is ridiculous.”
You frown. “What is?”
“The premise,” he hums. “I mean, why would they pretend to date each other? It doesn’t make sense. There are plenty of other things he could do to get back at his ex.”
You roll your eyes. Leave it to him to analyze the storyline like it was designed for anything other than mindless entertainment. “It’s the oldest cliche in the book,” you explain. “It’s for the plot.”
“It’s obvious,” he shakes his head. “They’re going to fall in love with each other.”
“Of course they are,” you agree. “But not every movie has to have a million twists and turns. Sometimes it’s just nice to know how things will end and enjoy seeing how they get there.”
“You like that?” he asks, voice low. “When things fall into place exactly the way you expect them to?”
“Sometimes,” you breathe. “It’s nice to not always have to guess.”
“Would you ever do that?”
Your eyebrows raise. “Fake date someone?”
Jungwon nods.
“No,” you scoff. “I can barely handle a real date, remember?”
You’re not sure what it is, but something in your answer must satisfy his curiosity, at least for now. Next to you, Jungwon is quiet once again. In front of you, the characters on screen continue to tiptoe around each other, dancing around the obvious.
The onscreen tension builds and builds and builds, all the way until it breaks. With a heated confession in the rain and the one aspect of a rom com you forgot to account for before choosing your movie for the evening.
You’re a grown woman. You have the degree and the age on your driver’s license to prove it. But the flush on your cheeks is undeniable as the two characters on screen begin to kiss.
And kiss they do. Jesus christ, you think, just how much of the budget was allotted to close up shots of their mouths?
As the scene begins to heat, so does the temperature of your skin. You’re half afraid Jungwon will feel it, scalding him through the layers of fabric between your legs that still touch. Part of you wants to screw your eyes shut, to reach for the remote and click fast forward just to end the agony, but you’re pretty sure that would be even more humiliating.
Instead, you keep your eyes glued to the screen. Watch unmoving, trying to appear unaffected, as the male lead tangles his fingers through her hair, tugging slightly as she stifles a moan against his lips. It’s so raw, so intimate, that you’re tempted to pull out your phone and confirm the PG-13 rating you swear it had.
It’s involuntary, the way you squirm against the couch cushions. The movement is no help. All it does is make you brush further against the one person you’re suddenly desperately trying to ignore.
The man on screen brushes his fingers under the hemline of her shirt, drags the fitted material upwards.
Without even really meaning to, you dare a glance at Jungwon.
And find him already looking at you. Staring at you, lips parted, eyes locked on the flush spreading over your cheekbones.
Quickly, your eyes drop to your lap, but the image stays burned behind your eyelids. You don’t dare to look at him again, not even once the scene has ended, when the plot becomes ridiculous again instead of heated.
Even once the ending credits start to roll, you keep your eyes trained on the screen, as if the list of assistant directors is something you find fascinating. But Jungwon has other plans.
He shifts against you, knee nudging yours. You hear his exhale, heavier than before.
A moment passes. Another.
Then, he finally tells you, “I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Immediately your mind starts to swim. Thinking about what? The unbelievability of the premise? The questionable casting choices? Or, worst of all, the kiss?
Out loud, you do your best to school your question into something neutral. “Thinking about what?”
“What you said,” he tells you. It soothes exactly none of your frayed nerves.
What have you said? You suddenly can’t remember. You search for a list of recent statements you’ve made and come up completely blank.
It feels like a conversation that’s going nowhere when you ask, “What did I say?”
Jungwon doesn’t spare a moment. “That you think boys don’t like you.”
Oh. Oh. Nearly a week ago now, your tipsy, self-berating rambling must have stuck with him. Well, that’s fine, you suppose. That’s something you can explain away now. Sober, even if your mind is still spinning a bit.
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you try to explain. “I was drunk and my words weren’t coming out right. I just meant that it was frustrating going on a date and leaving feeling like something was wrong with me, you know?”
Only after he’s quiet for a full thirty seconds do you dare a glance at him. Jungwon’s brow is furrowed, his lips pulled tight in contemplation. He parts his lips like he wants to say something, closes them again as if he’s thought better of it.
When he finally finds a statement to commit to, he says, “Maybe you’re going on dates with the wrong people.”
“Oh, definitely,” you agree. “But that’s the hard part, isn’t it?” In retrospect, it’s a big part of why you were so hesitant to accept Sophia’s offer in the first place, why she had to ask you, to insist, four times. “I feel like I have to go on so many terrible dates that make me feel like shit just to maybe eventually find someone I want to spend more time with. It’s not like I think there’s actually anything wrong with me, but I do feel like I have a harder time than other people. You know, making friends, going on dates, finding people I actually want to be around of my own volition.”
After already feeling so rejected from your job search, your headspace has been even more fragile. Dating doesn’t feel like stress relief for you. It feels like a reminder of all the things you wish were different about yourself.
Jungwon’s gentle when he shakes his head. “There’s nothing wrong with keeping your circle small.”
“No,” you agree, “but sometimes it feels like it isn’t really my choice. Like, even if I wanted to have more friends or go on more dates, it wouldn't pan out the way I want it to. Sometimes it’s just easier to keep to myself, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t times I wish I could be more outgoing.”
After another momentary lapse, another beat of silence, he asks, “What about me?”
A flicker of surprise crosses your features. “What about you?”
“You have an easy time talking to me,” Jungwon points out. “And I feel the same about you. We’ve been hanging out since we were kids, and I’ve never felt uncomfortable with you.”
“Really?” Your brow arches. “Even when I forced you to go down that waterslide in third grade?”
Even his mom had been surprised. He’d been terrified of that thing, apparently kicking and screaming against anyone else that tried to drag him down it. But when you, in all of your fourth-grade glory, insisted that he joined you, he just tucked his hand in yours, let you lead him all the way up the ladder even as his legs shook beneath him.
Jungwon smiles at the memory, a soft thing. But his eyes are still serious, his gaze still weighted. “You know what I mean.”
“Yeah,” you sigh, “but that’s different.”
“How so?”
“Because…” you trail off, searching for an explanation. “Because you’re Jungwon.”
“Yeah.” The heat in his eyes doesn’t settle. “And?”
“And I’ve never had to think about it,” you shrug. “We became friends before I was even fully self-aware. You’ve always just been Jungwon.”
He’s quiet for a moment, considering. And then, “Can I ask you something?”
“I feel like you’re going to anyway.” It’s meant to be lighthearted, to distract from that strange bit of tension that still simmers.
Jungwon’s eyes don’t lose their edge. “Why did you start going on dates again?”
“What do you mean?” His question surprises you. “I just graduated from university. I’m young and unattached and all that. Isn’t this the time that everyone’s going on dates?”
“I suppose,” he concedes, “But I feel like that’s why you’re so frustrated.”
You frown, and he clarifies, “You’re going on dates because you feel like you should. Not because you want to.”
He pauses for a moment, gauging your reaction. Deciding your silence is permission enough, he presses on, “You’re not even sure what you want out of them or what an ideal relationship looks like for you right now. You’re just going and hoping something will stick, like throwing darts with a blindfold. Then you get upset with yourself when it doesn’t live up to your fantasy, even though you haven’t decided what your fantasy even is yet. I mean, why did you even meet Sunghoon? Because you really wanted to, or because you wanted to get Sophia off of your back about it?”
You feel exposed all of a sudden. Seen right down to your bones in a way you were prepared for. “I…” There’s a maturity to his question that you weren’t expecting, an edge you can’t quite decipher. You turn the question back to him instead of answering. “Since when did you get so observant?”
“I’ve always noticed you.”
“Jungwon…”
“So I can help you figure this out, too,” he insists. “Really,” he adds when you still look unsure. “Who knows you better than me?”
You can’t quite meet his gaze, and it’s all the confirmation he needs.
“Exactly,” Jungwon nods. “So I’ll ask you again, why did you agree to go on a date with Sunghoon?”
It would be easy to deflect, to blame Sophia’s insistence. Or to double down on your earlier statement, that this is the time in your life to try new things, to meet new people. That it felt natural to say yes.
But when you really think about it, the cold, honest truth is just that—
“I think I was just tired of hearing no all the time.”
Jungwon’s brow furrows. “Who’s telling you no?”
You sigh, try to let out an airy laugh that comes out choked, a little pathetic. “Only every hiring manager in the country, apparently. You know, I’ve been sending out job applications like crazy since graduation, but it's been six months now and the only thing I have to show for it is a stack of rejection letters cluttering my inbox.”
A flicker of understanding passes through his gaze. “So you’re compensating, then.”
You glare. “Don’t make fun of me.”
“I’m not,” he shakes his head. With the same tone you’ve heard him use to soothe a skittish kitten, he adds, “That must have been so frustrating. Putting in all that effort and not getting the result you wanted.” He knee brushes yours as he leans in closer, something unbearably earnest in his gaze. “You’ve been working too hard.”
“I haven’t been working hard enough,” you argue. “If I had, then something would have panned out at this point. I just need to—”
“There you go again,” he interrupts, shaking his head gently. “Assuming that it’s all your fault. Maybe the hiring manager was just an idiot, or you caught them on a bad day.”
“Yeah.” Your words drip with self-effacing sarcasm. “I’d believe that if it were one or two. But I don’t think over a hundred of them just happened to wake up on the wrong side of the bed the day they reviewed my application.”
It comes out sharper than you mean for it to. Settles into the air a bit uncomfortably.
Jungwon takes a moment to respond. When he does, he just sighs your name.
“I know,” you scramble for something a little lighter, “like, the economy is shit and all, and one day I’ll look back at this and laugh or whatever. But it just sucks right now, you know? I’m so sick of it. I really just wanted to hear someone say—”
“Yes,” Jungwon finishes for you.
“Yeah,” you nod. “Exactly.”
“Okay,” he nods, resolve tightening as if he’s made his mind up about something. “Then ask me.”
“What?”
Jungwon doubles down. “You can ask me,” he insists again, that same damn earnestness in his eyes, “anything you want me to do.” Meeting your gaze, he adds, “I’ll say yes. I promise.”
Against your will, you feel warmth starting to rise on your cheeks again. There’s something weighted in his promise, something desperate that simmers just behind it. Something that you have absolutely no idea what to do with.
Suddenly desperate for a reprieve, you do your best to break the tension. “That seems like a terrible idea.” You curse the strange breathlessness in your voice. Why are you like this? It’s just Jungwon. “What if I ask you to jump off a bridge?”
Jungwon just grins. “I’ll take my chances. Besides, I know I’m safe. You’d miss me too much.”
“You know,” you start, “for someone who thinks fake dating is ridiculous, this feels even more absurd.”
Jungwon doesn’t budge. “Just try it,” he encourages. “Ask me something.”
You sigh. “Jungwon…”
“C’mon.” He’s relentless. “Just once.”
“Fine.” You glance towards the bowl still sitting in his lap. “Hand me the popcorn.”
Picking it up, he ignores your outstretched hands in favor of learning forward, all the way until he settles it in your lap. His fingers remain against the edges of the bowl until he’s sure the balance is steady. Only then does he lean back into his own space.
“Easy.” He grins. Then his brow furrows, considering. “Are you hungry?” he asks. “I could make you some real food, if—”
“No,” you shake your head. Picking up a single piece of popcorn, you add, “Just wanted to do this.”
Throwing it square at his face, it bounces off of his nose harmlessly before falling to the carpet below. Jungwon’s nose scrunches in a knee-jerk reaction, eyes screwing shut before he opens them again.
“Maybe I was wrong,” his eyes are heavy-lidded, voice lower than you expect. “You are going to use it for evil.”
“Of course.” You reach for another kernel. “So maybe you should reconsider—”
Jungwon doesn’t say anything, doesn’t give you a moment to prepare for the way he wraps his fingers around your raised wrist, locking it into place before you can toss another piece of popcorn in his direction.
His grip is warm against your skin. Tight, something you’re not sure you’d be able to break out of even if you tried.
Still, you attempt to fling the popcorn at him. With the restricted motion of your wrist, it doesn’t make it far. It flies through the air for only a split second before falling uselessly down to your own lap, just in front of the bowl it came from.
“Nice try,” Jungwon breathes, your wrist still encased in his grip.
Your eyes narrow. “I do my best.”
“I’m sure you do,” he allows, “but you’re trapped now.”
There’s something strange in his gaze. Something heavy, weighted that you can’t quite place. Something that feels entirely too real.
You test it, the strength of his grip on you. True to his word, your wrist hardly makes it an inch, his fingers a vice around them.
“You’re ridiculous,” you breathe, voice airier than you mean for it to be.
“Maybe,” he agrees. A breath passes between you. Another. His eyes are still locked on yours, searching, like he’s desperate to find something. Another moment passes, and he releases his grip. Your wrist falls slowly back to your lap. “But I meant it.”
“I know you did.” You can’t quite make eye contact, but his sincerity is evident even as you place your gaze elsewhere. “Thank you.”
“Seriously,” he insists. “My schedule is a lot lighter now that midterms are done. If you ever want to do something or go somewhere or you just wanna crash for a night on my couch, you’re more than welcome to.”
“Did you get Jake’s approval for that?” You arch an eyebrow.
Jungwon’s voice is tighter than before, just slightly. “Jake will be fine." And then, still strained but a bit softer, “If there’s anything I can do for you, just let me know. Don’t make me wait two weeks to see you.”
Here, in the quiet of his living room, movie forgotten on the TV, it’s easy to agree to.
“Okay,” you whisper, regular speech suddenly feeling too loud, too abrasive. And then again, because you really do mean it, “Thank you, Jungwon.”
“Of course,” he insists, voice equally low.
For a moment, the two of you sit like that, legs brushing, you avoiding the eye contact he tries to maintain.
Then, Jungwon sighs, faces the TV again as he reaches for the remote. “Should we watch something else?” he asks.
You nod. “Something scary this time.”
Jungwon arches a brow. “You hate horror movies.”
Shrugging, you insist. “I’m in the mood for one now.”
He still doesn’t look like he quite believes you, but he doesn’t argue any further as he scrolls down, searching for the genre.
At his side, you’re quiet. It’s true. You do hate horror. But you’d take zombies and ghosts and jumpscares any day over the off chance of having to sit through another kissing scene tonight.
This time, Jungwon picks the movie. Learning back against the cushions, he reaches for a handful of popcorn.
The movie hasn’t started yet. There’s nothing on the screen to be scared of, but your heart thumps traitorously against your ribcage anyway.
…..
Two days later, you’re back at your favorite coffee shop. This time, though, it’s not Jungwon who sits across from you.
“So,” Sophia starts, and you already recognize that tone. Uh-oh, you think. “Sunghoon asked about you.”
“Why?” you ask, memories of your rather terrible date coming back unbidden. “To see if I’ve checked myself into an insane asylum yet?”
“No,” she glares. “Just to see how you’re doing.” She takes a sip of her drink, eyeing you over the rim. “Why didn’t you go on another date? He told me he texted you.”
That explains it then, you think. Him reaching out to you probably didn’t come from genuine interest. Maybe spending time with you felt like nothing more than a favor to his coworker. Maybe he was secretly relieved when you’d ignored his message. Maybe he only brought it up to Sophia to be polite.
Your eyes narrow. “Why are you so involved, anyway? You know, this is exactly why they say you shouldn’t shit where you eat.”
“I’m not dating him,” she points out. “And you two don’t work together.” It’s true. You’d applied for an open position a couple months back, actually. And, of course, had been promptly rejected. “That doesn’t apply.”
“Close enough,” you mutter.
“Why are you so against it?” she asks. “Did he suck or something?” Considering it, she’s quick to apologize. “Sorry. He always seemed so nice at work. A little shy, like I told you, but when he mentioned he was single, you were the first person I thought of. Did he say something weird to you or try to make you split the bill—”
“No,” you shake your head. “Nothing like that. He was perfectly nice. And polite.”
Her confusion returns. “So what gives? I didn’t expect the two of you to get married, but I thought you’d at least last a little longer than one date. Besides,” she leans in, voice lower but still not nearly quiet enough for what she’s about to ask you, “aren’t you practically shriveled up at this point? Did you take a vow of celibacy without telling me? When’s the last time you even had se—”
Eyes widening in panic, you interrupt her with an entirely too loud, too bright, “Hi, Jungwon!”
Frowning, Sophia turns back to look over her shoulder. Because there he is, the man in question. A surprising coincidence, perhaps, if you weren’t the one that introduced both of your friends to this cafe.
“Hey,” he grins, glancing between the both of you with his takeout cup in hand. “I thought that was you I saw over here.” Turning to your friend, he nods, “Hi, Sophia.”
“Jungwon,” she returns. Her gaze follows his, all the way from his eyes to yours. Settling back into her seat, she gestures towards the empty chair at your table. “Grab a seat,” she offers. “Join us.”
“Oh, that’s alright,” you glance at him apologetically. “I’m sure Jungwon has other—”
But he slides down into the chair without a hint of protest, your words dying on your lips.
“Sorry for interrupting,” he says. “What were you two talking about?”
You force a smile that looks anything but easy. “Nothing,” you insist, just as Sophia explains,
“____’s desperate need to get laid.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, flashing daggers at Sophia with your eyes as you pointedly avoid looking to where Jungwon sits on your right. “I did not say that.”
“So what?” she asks, either oblivious to your suffering or relishing in it. “You’re planning to be a nun forever?”
“I’m busy,” you deflect. “I have other priorities right now.”
“Busy people have sex,” she argues. “All that stress isn’t good for you. Like I said, you’ll shrivel up and—”
“Can we talk about literally anything else?” She has to know how embarrassed you are from the increasingly red shade of your face, how horrified you are that Jungwon can hear everything she’s saying. There aren’t many secrets left between the two of you, but the gory details of your nonexistent sex life isn’t something you’re exactly dying for him to be privy to.
Sophia leans back, some of the urgency of her insistence fading. Still, she’s not quite done. “I’m just confused,” she explains. “I mean, Sunghoon was kind and a gentleman and more than willing, if the way he keeps hounding me about you is anything to go by. I just don’t get it.”
Slowly, you brave a glance at Jungwon, who’s kept quiet this whole time. Maybe, at least, he shares some of your embarrassment, avoiding your gaze just as pointedly as you avoided his.
But when you turn towards him hesitantly, Jungwon is already looking at you. There’s nothing shy or avoidant as his eyes rake over you. And there’s no sign of embarrassment, no telltale flush, no fidgety shifting.
Jungwon’s just looking at you. With a cool, steady stare. Like he’s assessing you, clicking puzzle pieces into place.
When he finally breaks eye contact, it’s to look at Sophia. “Leave her alone,” he defends. His tone is light, teasing. But there’s an edge there. Something that doesn’t leave space for an argument. “She’ll find someone when she’s ready. Park Sunghoon isn’t the end all be all of men.”
“No,” Sophia agrees, “but surely he’s better than your left hand and the vib—”
“Oh my god,” you’re begging this time. “Stop.”
“What about you?” Jungwon asks, and both of you turn to him in surprise. When your eyes land on him, he’s looking at Sophia, not at you. “How’s your love life looking these days?”
“Love life…” She trails off, shrugging. “Nothing to report. But I haven’t joined your girl here,” she nods towards you, “at the convent yet. In that regard,” she grins. “I’m perfectly healthy.”
“Good for you,” Jungwon nods. “And the job is still going well?”
“Yeah,” she nods. “It’s not confirmed yet, but there’s a rumor that I might be in talks for a promotion next quarter. I’m…”
Her words trail off as you zone out, some of the adrenaline fading, the tension draining from your shoulders.
Not for the first time, you feel extremely grateful for Jungwon. It’s subtle, but it’s enough. And to you, it’s obvious. The way he maneuvered the conversation away from you. You’re sure that your discomfort wasn’t difficult to pick up on, but the way he handled it makes you appreciate him that much more.
Morbidly, you wonder what he thinks of your glaring lack of a sex life. Ever since Jay, you’ve kept the details of your relationships, or rather, lack thereof, close to the chest where he’s concerned. And even when you were with Jay, intimacy was never a topic you breached with Jungwon.
The thought has a flush starting anew on your cheekbones. You do your best to dismiss it.
Next to you, Jungwon keeps his eyes on Sophia, nodding at the appropriate times, commenting in a way that proves he’s listening.
But beneath the table, the warmth on his palm finds your knee. Without breaking conversation or giving even the slightest outward hint that his mind is anywhere besides your friend’s story about her boss’ most recent rampage, he squeezes.
Once, gently. Just to let you know that he’s there.
You fidget, and he does it again. This time, he can’t quite help the grin that spreads across his lips.
…..
Despite everything, you can’t shake the feeling of Jungwon’s hand on your knee beneath the table. Days pass, and in quiet moments, if you give your brain enough leeway, it always wanders back there.
To his easy, subtle defense of you. To the way it seemed so natural for him to soothe you silently with his touch.
To the way he looked at you, considering, evaluative, while Sophia laid out the gory details of your fruitless sex life on the table.
And maybe she was right to question you so thoroughly. Maybe it really has been too long, because that’s the only feasible explanation for the thoughts you’re having now.
It’s only natural, you suppose. Jungwon has been a constant in your life, a steady presence, for nearly as long as your memory extends. He’s been there through it all, your worst moments, your best memories. He’s seen all of it, knows you like the back of his hand, and he’s stuck around for it all.
For someone with an intense fear of rejection, it means more than you can say. You can’t think of anyone in this world that you trust more than him.
And intimacy… Intimacy is just an extension of that, you suppose. Being close with someone in that way is the ultimate act of trust.
Maybe that’s why things felt so stilted, so disjointed with Sunghoon. You had nothing against him, but you also didn’t know him at all. Trust is something that takes time, effort. How could you let your guard down with someone you had just met?
It’s just nerves, you’re sure. You’ve been out of practice since Jay, and with each passing day, that relationship just feels further and further away. A distant memory that you can’t recall well enough to guide you now.
Maybe if there was someone you really trusted, someone that you could just practice with, then—
No. You shake your head, dropping the thought as quick as it comes. It’s insane. It’s the exact opposite of everything your relationship with Jungwon has been for the last eighteen years of your life.
Still, when a message from him lights up your phone screen a handful of hours later, it takes you a full minute and a string of deep breaths to convince yourself to open it.
And when you reread the text, an invitation to drive out to a lesser known lookout where the two of you used to go to watch the sunset in high school, you agree easily. If your heart is beating a little too fast in your chest, well, you suppose no one ever has to know about it.
Years ago, you were the one that discovered the outlook. After a particularly awful day, due mostly to your terrible junior year biology teacher, you’d put your newly acquired driver’s license to good use. You had no destination in mind. You were still new to driving and liked the way that it felt, liked the way it seemed like you could outrun any problem if you just drove far enough.
A series of wrong turns led you straight to a forested area not too far from the highway. Jutting high out over a nearby valley, the scene you found sprawled out in front of you was gorgeous.
It was early spring, then. Flowers were just beginning to bloom, glowing in the late afternoon sun. You shifted the car into park, shutting off the engine. And then you sat, for hours, just looking out at all of it.
As the sun faded on the horizon, so did the most pressing of your worries. Looking around you, biology class had begun to feel a lifetime ago.
You realized that day that you found somewhere special, somewhere that you wouldn’t be willing to show to just anyone. Even then, there was only one person you thought you’d ever share the view with, that you’d ever let into your private little sanctuary.
So, one month later, when Jungwon came to your house after school with a crease between his eyebrows that usual methods couldn’t seem to soothe, you offered him the passenger seat of your car and the view you’d been keeping all to yourself.
That day, it became his too. And a tradition of sorts began to form. Whenever either of you was stressed or upset or just needed to get away from it all, you had a shared place to escape to. Somewhere that felt out of reach from everyone else. Somewhere for just the two of you.
You haven’t been back there with Jungwon for the better part of a year. Part of you is a bit worried as you see his car pull up from your apartment window—this time, he’ll be the one driving—that something happened.
After all, the two of you usually saved the outlook for difficult times.
But as you slide into Jungwon’s passenger seat, the only thing he greets you with is an easy smile.
“Good day?” he asks, handing you his phone so you can pick the playlist for the drive.
“Fine,” you nod, settling for an R&B album you know you both like. “What about you?” you ask, still wanting to dissuade your earlier concerns. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah,” he nods, craning his neck as he checks for cross-traffic before pulling onto the main street. “I just wanted to see you. Thought it might be nice to go somewhere quiet. And it’s a beautiful day.” He looks towards the cloudless sky. “I thought the sunset would be nice.”
The drive goes quickly as you pass familiar streets, reminiscing as memories coming back at every turn.
“Oh my god,” you say as one comes back suddenly. “Remember that time we drove out here because James rejected me at junior prom?”
Jungwon frowns. “James was an idiot.”
It rings true in hindsight. “Yeah, but I was devastated. I cried so hard I got snot on my dress.” It’s easy to laugh at now, even if the sting was unbearable in the moment. “No wonder he said no.”
“He said no because he was a dumbass,” Jungwon argues. “Besides, it can’t be worse than the time we came here because I didn’t make the taekwondo competition team.”
Something about the memory, even now, makes your heart clench a little. “That was just sad,” you tell him softly. “You were so disappointed.”
“I got over it,” he shrugs. “The dartboard you made of my coach’s face helped.”
“Oh my god,” your eyes widen. “I forgot about that.”
Jungwon smiles like it’s a fond memory. “You were so violent.”
You shake your head. “Only for you. I don’t think I’d ever wanted to hit someone more.”
Trading memories like secrets, the two of you eventually reach the right exit. Pulling off the highway, the air around you immediately feels more still. Calmer.
And when Jungwon pulls right up to the overlook, shifting his car into park and shutting off the ignition, things feel just like you left them.
The sun is getting close to the horizon now. The valley that stretches out beneath you as far as the eye can see glows in the last rays of daylight.
Your gaze stretches out too, welcoming that sense of familiarity. “It looks the same,” you whisper.
“Yeah,” Jungwon agrees. “It does.”
Returning here now makes times feel sharper, more obvious.
“We’ve been coming here for what, six years now?” You shake your head. “I can’t believe it’s been that long. I can’t believe I graduated. Like, I’m just done with university now. I still remember when it felt so far away.”
“Yeah.” Jungwon nods, eyes on the horizon. “Me too.”
For a moment, the space between you is silent, the air filled with nothing but the sound of your quiet breaths.
You weren’t the one who asked him here, but if there was ever a place to admit the worries in your mind, you suppose it would be now.
Quietly, you say, “Can I ask you something?”
Jungwon turns to you, attuned to the serious tone of your voice. “Of course.”
“If it makes you uncomfortable, you can tell me,” you promise. “I know we don’t really talk about this kind of stuff usually, and—”
“___,” he interrupts, “Ask me.”
You take a breath. You can feel his gaze on you, but you can’t quite look him in the eye when you ask, “Do you think Sophia was right?”
“About what?” His shoulders stiffen. “Sunghoon?”
“No,” you shake your head, and the tension loosens, but only slightly. “About me.”
“What about you?” he breathes.
“That I…” you trail off, searching for the right words. “That it’s been too long since I was with someone.”
Even now, you can’t bring yourself to say it. To call a spade a spade. Jungwon reads between the lines easily enough.
He shakes his head. “It’s your choice to make. Yours and no one else’s, for whatever reasons you want. Don’t let Sophia make you feel bad just because her choice is different from yours.”
“I know,” you sigh. “But sometimes I think she’s right. That the longer I wait, the more difficult I’m making things for myself, like I’m just making the hurdle in my mind bigger and bigger. I mean, the last time I was with someone, you know, like that, was with Jay, and that was already—”
Jungwon’s inhale is sharp. “It was?”
“See?” you frown, mistaking his surprise for confirmation of your fears. “It’s been so long. Too long. Even you think so.”
“I don’t—” he tries, shaking his head. Now Jungwon’s the one scrambling for words. “I don’t think it’s been too long. I was just surprised,” he says. “That’s all.”
“Yeah, surprised because of how long it’s been.” You laugh humorlessly. “Now even you think I’m a nun.”
“I don’t think that,” he shakes his head. “Like I said, it’s your choice.”
“Is it though?” you ask. “The more time passes, the more I start to think that the cards just aren’t stacked in my favor.”
Jungwon frowns. “What do you mean?”
Your palms splay against your lap. The last rays of sun stretch over the valley, and your words are spilling out before you can stop them. “Maybe Sunghoon only acted interested because of Sophia. Maybe every time anyone has expressed interest, it hasn’t been genuine.” You sigh. “It’s like, logically I know that’s just the insecurity talking, but the more time passes, the harder those thoughts are to shake.”
For a moment, Jungwon is quiet. When he speaks again, his voice is low, serious. Pleading for your understanding. “___,” he says, “you’re beautiful. Truly. Any man would be lucky for even the smallest piece of your time or attention. I know that it’s hard sometimes, and that those voices and doubts can feel so loud, but I really wish you could see yourself the way other people do. The way I do.”
“Jungwon…”
“If you decide to have a relationship with someone, one of any nature, then it should be because you want to, not because you feel like you have to or because you’re trying to prove something.”
“What if I never get over it?” you ask, voice small, hardly a whisper. “What if I never get past this fear?”
“You will,” Jungwon promises. “It might not happen as fast as you want it to or in the way you expect it to, but you will.”
It’s so him, you think. So Jungwon to have more faith in you than even you ever could. He’s been here since the beginning, and he’s not going anywhere. He’s seen you face obstacles and challenges before, and he’s always done everything in his power to help you overcome them.
Maybe this is no different. Maybe the only thing you ever needed was some help from Jungwon.
Maybe…
No. Even with your logic twisting things to your favor, you know that this is different. This is different from asking for a favor or some moral support. If you ask Jungwon to do this for you, you’re crossing a line. One that you’re not sure you’d be able to come back from.
The friendship you have isn’t just something you’re unwilling to risk. It has quite literally become something you don’t know how to live without. You’ve never had to try, never even had to imagine a life without Jungwon at your side.
The only time that came close was during your first year of university, during your relationship with Jay, and that had been nearly enough to wreck you. The potential fallout from this could be worse, so much worse. You won’t risk it.
But then, unbidden, your mind supplies a memory. One from his couch, little more than a week ago.
“You can ask me,” he’d told you, earnest in his delivery, “anything you want me to do.” He said it himself. He promised you. “I’ll say yes.”
So, before you can lose your grip on the last remnants of courage you have, you ask, “Would you ever…”
It’s as far as you get before your bravery fails you, words trailing off into nothingness.
You wish you could take them back when Jungwon asks, a little breathless. “Would I ever what?”
You shake your head. “It’s nothing. It’s stupid. Just forget I said anything.”
But he won’t let you get away so easily. “Ask me.”
And you swear, it’s like he knows. His gaze bores into yours, searching, pleading, desperate, like he can see you all the way down to your bones. Like even the most secret of your thoughts have been laid bare before him.
“___,” he whispers your name. “Ask me,” he repeats.
“I just…” Your eyes screw shut. You can’t bring yourself to look at him. “What if we…”
“What if we what?”
You open your eyes, but only to look down towards your lap. “I trust you,” you whisper. In the silence of his car, it feels like you’re shouting. “More than anyone. Maybe I’ll be able to get over that hurdle in my mind if I just let you—”
“Let me what?” he asks. “Touch you?”
The breath you draw is ragged, shallow, as he hits the bullseye with little effort. Your fingers find a loose thread on the sleeve of your sweater. You know better, but you pull anyway. “Yeah,” you exhale. “If you…” You can’t look him in the eye, even now. It’s hardly a whisper, but you can’t bring yourself to say it any louder. “If I let you touch me.”
Jungwon’s inhale is sharp, his shudder involuntary. He leans across the center console, closer to you. Closer, closer, closer, until he stops, lips parting, face inches from yours.
He takes a deep breath in, holding it as his eyes search your face even as you keep yours turned down. Your heart hammers in your chest so violently you think it must be trying to escape. You still can’t look at him.
Jungwon’s breath escapes him in a shallow huff, dusting across your cheekbone. He lingers there for a second, like he can’t stand the thought of distance.
Then, without a warning, he sits back in his seat, knuckles white against the fabric of his jeans.
“I can’t,” he tells you.
You look up, eyes widening in surprise. “What?”
“I can’t,” he repeats. This time, he’s the one avoiding eye contact. You search his features for anything, any kind of explanation, but all you find is the tense set of his jaw, the heat that still simmers in his gaze. The restraint holding him back.
And suddenly, shame flashes through you. White hot humiliation that stings all the way down to your bones. It was one thing to imagine rejection from faceless men. But feeling it now, from him, from Jungwon, is so much worse than anything your mind ever conjured.
Trying not to let accusation sit too heavy in your tone, you whisper, “You promised.” It’s so pathetic, but there’s nothing left of your pride at that point. “You told me you’d say yes to anything.”
Jungwon flinches. “And I’m trying,” he tells you, an edge to his voice that sings with desperation. “Believe me, I am. I’m doing my best to make this about you, but…”
“But what?” You scoff. “You changed your mind? The thought of me like that is so repulsive you have to—”
“No.” He won’t let you finish. “But you’re sitting here, looking at me like you’d do anything for it, like you need it, and I can’t just say yes and give it to you because I do too.”
Your anger subsides, replaced with confusion. “What do you—”
“I need it too.” Only then does he meet your eye. Wide in the dying glow of lingering daylight, he’s begging for a bit of your understanding. “I’m trying to be selfless, but if I touch you, that won’t be just for you.”
Your brow creases. You still don’t get it. “I don’t—”
Jungwon releases a shaky exhale. “I’ve been thinking about getting my hands on you since I was old enough to know what it meant. Since I was old enough to want things like that at all.”
It’s all too much, too sudden. “Jungwon, what—”
“I know that you still think of me as the kid you grew up next to, and I’ve been doing my best not to shatter the illusion because you like me like that. But you come home from a date telling me it didn’t work out, telling me that boys don’t like you, and all I can think is good.” His hand curls into a fist, knuckles white. “I could do it so much better anyway.”
“I didn’t…” You shake your head. It doesn’t make sense. “You never—”
But Jungwon isn’t done yet. “You’re sitting here asking me to touch you, but I— fuck, ___. I can’t. Not when you’re only asking because you think it doesn’t mean anything to me. That it won’t change anything for me. You tell me that you trust me, and it’s the sweetest thing about you. I can’t take advantage of that.” His breath is practically heaving now, like he’s just finished running. “I can’t use your trust and break it like this.”
The sun dips past the horizon. The only lingering remnants of daylight cast his face into a gentle glow. Even as shadows begin to trace his features, he’s still Jungwon. Your Jungwon. But no matter how many times you spin his words through your mind, you can’t form them into something you understand. Something you have any idea what to do with.
“I…” It’s so confusing. It’s entirely too much. All you can think is, “Why did you never say anything?”
Jungwon laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “Would it have changed anything? I know you. You run when you get scared. You like me like this, your harmless little friend. You said it yourself, you think you know everything about boys like me. And you needed a friend. So that’s what I’ll be. Your friend. But I can’t say yes, not to this.”
“What if—”
“Don’t,” he cuts you off. “I know you think I can handle anything, but don’t tell me things you don’t mean.”
“Jungwon,” you try softly.
His fingers wrap around his steering wheel, knuckles turning white. “Just let me drive you home,” he pleads.
“But—”
“Please,” he whispers, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him look so broken. “I know it was too much, that it’s not fair to you, but I can’t… I don’t think I can look at you right now and see all that confusion. So just,” he begs again, “please. Let me take you home.”
You want to press the issue, want to keep going until you have even a small fragment of understanding to call yours, but Jungwon is no stranger to making sacrifices for you. It seems he’s been making even more than you ever realized.
Tonight, right now, you can do the same for him.
“Okay,” you whisper.
The drive home passes in silence. Heavy, thick, uncomfortable like a blanket on a sweltering summer night. Neither of you bother to turn on the music this time. The only company to the quiet are the thoughts spinning through your mind, the moon that begins to shine as dusk turns to night.
Still, as he eases into the driveway just in front of your apartment, you can’t help but whisper, “Good night, Jungwon” as you step out of the passenger seat.
Whatever has passed between you, whatever terrible precipice the two of you have just fallen from, he doesn’t seem to be able to either.
“Good night, ____.”
By the time you make it inside, he’s gone. You know it will be, even before you check for his car from your bedroom window.
…..
“Um,” you begin, entirely unsure how to start the conversation. Across from you, Sophia sits on her favorite kitchen stool, scrolling through her Instagram feed while you wait for the pasta water to boil. “Something happened.”
“Mm?” She hums halfheartedly, eyes still trained on her phone screen.
Your words come out too fast, like you’re in a rush to have them over with as quickly as you can. “I was with Jungwon a few nights ago, and—”
“Oh my god,” she interrupts as she finally looks up, phone forgotten as she sets in on the counter. “You two finally hooked up?”
“What?” Your face pales at just how close she is to the truth. “Why would you even ask that? We’ve never even come close.” Well, of course, except for the incident you’re currently trying to explain. That you’ve been tiptoeing around for the better part of a minute.
“Are you kidding?” Sophia deadpans. “That boy looks at you like he wants to eat you.”
You splutter. “He does not.”
Sophia rolls her eyes. “He wouldn’t look at me for a week after I set you up with Sunghoon. And I thought he was gonna kill me that day he saw us at the cafe. All I did was mention the possibility of you having sex with someone that wasn’t him, and it’s like he was writing my name on some imaginary death note.”
“You don’t even watch anime,” you point out.
“I know the reference,” she argues.
Then, something more pressing draws your attention. “You did it on purpose,” you accuse, realization dawning. “You kept pushing the subject that day to see how he’d react.”
“No,” she denies, shaking her head. “I really do think you should put yourself out there more. Whether it’s Sunghoon or him or someone entirely different. Although,” she considers, “it is always kind of fun to see him get like that. Jungwon’s one of those people you don’t really expect it from, you know? He’s always so calm and collected. But I don’t know if I’ll try it again,” she looks at you, faking a shudder. “He’s scary when it comes to you.”
Any other day, in any other situation, you’d protest. You’d insist that Jungwon is entirely unaffected by you and your romantic choices. That Sophia must have been imagining things that day.
But Jungwon has already basically confirmed every last one of her claims, whispered them to you himself from the secrecy of his driver’s seat.
It’s the reason you invited her over today. To talk. To get a different perspective. To help you work through what happened.
Now, though, you just have a question.
“Why…” You still can’t wrap your mind around it. “Why did no one ever say anything?”
Sophia senses the shift, the way you go from defense to acceptance. From arguing to spiraling.
“Oh, ___,” she pouts. “My poor, sweet, oblivious ____.”
“I’m not oblivious,” you argue.
“Not usually,” she agrees. “But it’s like you have this blind spot when it comes to him. He’ll be in the middle of undressing you with his eyes and you’ll start telling some story about the matching diapers your moms bought when you were babies.”
“They were pajamas,” you correct.
“Whatever,” Sophia waves it off. “The point still stands. That boy wants you. Like, biblically.”
It’s consistent. It’s as much as Jungwon himself told you himself. But something about it makes you feel so terribly defeated, so completely unaware of everything you thought you knew about your friendship. About him. About yourself.
A bit helplessly, you ask, “What am I supposed to do?”
Sophia takes one look at you, at the dejection clouding your features, and sighs. “Can I be honest with you?”
You nod.
“I think you’re asking the wrong question. It’s not about what you’re supposed to do. It’s not about what Jungwon wants or what I think about your weird, sexually charged friendship.” Then, she asks the million dollar question, “What do you want to do?”
But that’s exactly the problem, you think, because, “I don’t know,” you admit. “I mean, I’ve never thought about it. He’s always just been Jungwon to me.” Pausing for a moment, you suppose you have little pride left to lose. You might as well be honest. “But the other night, when I was with him. I started thinking about… things.”
“Things,” Sophia repeats. She leans in closer, resting her chin against her palm as she asks, “What kinds of things? Feel free to be graphic, by the way.”
“Sophia.”
She pouts sympathetically. “You might not know right away. You’ve spent your entire life thinking of him as some untouchable, sexless entity. Which is kind of crazy, by the way. Like, have you seen the guy?”
You sigh. “Sophia—”
“I’m just saying, it might not happen overnight.” She looks at you, and you feel a sudden surge of gratitude for your friend. She may be wildly different from you in more ways than one, but she means it when she says, “It’s okay. Jungwon will understand, too. If you need some more time to decide if you want to jump his bones or not. He’s probably already been waiting since, like, junior prom. What’s a little longer?”
A little longer, you think. Part of you already spins with doubt, waiting for someone else to supply exact answers. How long is a little longer? When should you make your decision? How long is it supposed to take for you to know if your best friend of eighteen years is meant to stay as just that, or if the relationship between you has been building, slowly, surely, undeniably, into something else this whole time?
But you suppose that’s what Sophia means when she says it’s okay. What Jungwon meant when he told you it was alright to do things at your own pace, on your own time. You don’t need someone else to decide for you.
The difficulty isn’t a flaw—it’s a sign that this decision is one that matters to you, one that’s worth taking your time with.
So you do.
You think about it while you fine tune your resume for yet another job application. You think about it while you snip thorns off of roses at the flower shop, humming along absentmindedly to the playlist in the background.
You think about it in the shower and while you dinner. When your mom calls you and tells you about the new bulbs she just bought for her garden, the one that time and experience have allowed her to grow into something beautiful and thriving.
You think about it when you reach into the bottom drawer of your dresser one evening, pulling out the gift Jungwon gave you when you graduated high school nearly five long years ago.
A photobook, full of all your favorite memories together. Something to remember him by, he’d told you, so you wouldn’t miss him too much when you went off to university one whole year ahead of him.
In every picture, you’re smiling, grinning so wide you think your face must be in danger of splitting in two. And you’re so lucky, you think, to have someone to share all of these memories with. To have someone who’s been in your life for so long, who’s always been exactly what you needed.
And then, staring at a picture of the two of you in high school, his arm around your shoulders as the two of you laugh into the camera, you think it’s obvious.
You don’t have to make a choice between the Jungwon you know and the one you’re afraid to discover. Jungwon has been, and always will be, Jungwon. The way he smiles at you, because of you, isn’t an illusion, and the love he offers you isn’t conditional.
He’s been your friend for as long as you can remember, and he will be for the rest of your life. Your feelings and hopes and desires may have shifted, but he isn’t going anywhere.
He’s not scared of the truth, you realize. He never was. But he knew that you would be.
So he fed it to you slowly until it was too prominent to deny anymore. And even then, he gave you space. Time. Let you come to your own conclusions.
And somehow, that makes all the difference.
You think of the game you used to play as kids, the one where you put on your best dress and let him pick wildflowers for you from his back yard. The one where you used the welcome mat from his porch as a makeshift aisle. The one where every time you walked down it, he was the one waiting for you at the end.
You smile, nearly identical to the picture still splayed open across your lap, and you think that maybe there was never really a choice at all.
…..
Your knuckles barely rap against the door three times before you hear shuffling on the other side. Footsteps drawing closer until the latch opens, until the door draws back and you see him standing there. Jungwon.
If he’s surprised to see you, he doesn’t show it. Dressed in gray sweatpants and a plain, fitted black t-shirt, you don’t think he was expecting company.
“Hi,” you breathe. “Can we talk?”
Jungwon still says nothing, but he opens the door a bit wider, gives you space to walk in. Standing in the entry, you take your shoes off, setting them neatly with the others before drawing back up to full height. Prolonging the inevitable as if it makes any part of what you’re about to do easier.
You finally drag your eyes back to Jungwon. He’s already looking at you, expression unreadable. His hands are loose at his sides, but his posture is just slightly unnatural. Just a little too stiff. You know him. He’s nervous.
Finally, you break the silence building between you. “I’ve been thinking,” you tell him.
“About what?” he asks.
“You,” you admit. “Us.” A string somewhere pulls taught. A thread loosens.
Jungwon sighs, his exhale shaky. His hand curls to a loose fist before he tucks it into his pocket. “And?”
“I—” Your decision is still solid, not something you’ll back away from. But the words are harder to work out than you expected. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had in my life.”
Jungwon nods. “I know.”
“So,” you try, “it feels weird to suddenly have these thoughts about…”
He won’t let you leave things unsaid, not this time. “About what?”
“You know,” you try to deflect.
“Yeah,” he agrees, “but I’m gonna make you say it.”
You fidget a bit, eyes dropping, but you didn’t come all the way here because you weren’t sure. You know exactly what you want to tell him.
So you explain, “I just… you asked me, after my date with Sunghoon, what I was looking for.” It feels like a long time ago now, like a distant memory. “And I always felt like I didn’t know, but when I think about it, I always think about…”
“What?” Jungwon breathes.
“You.” Your eyes meet his. This time, neither of you looks away. “I think about you. I don’t have to try and come up with the best answer to my favorite hobbies because you already know. You know me better than anyone and you make me feel good about myself and all the things I usually don’t like. I don’t feel awkward or uncomfortable around you, and I don’t feel like I have to explain myself to you.”
Jungwon’s breath is coming heavier now. He takes half a step towards you, almost subconsciously, as if distance is something he’s finding more difficult to tolerate. But he knows you aren’t done, so he lets you continue.
“And then,” you add, “I was thinking about the difference between our friendship as it’s always been and the kind of relationship I think I want. And the only thing that’s really different is, you know, the sex.” Your words are spilling now, faster than even you can keep up with. “But even then, when I was trying to think of someone who I trusted enough to be with like that, the only person I thought of was—”
“Me,” Jungwon finishes, gaze unreadable.
“Yeah,” you breathe. “You. I don’t want to go on blind dates with Sophia’s coworkers or find random guys to hook up with. I just want you. It’s always been you. I want all of it to be you.”
Jungwon’s eyes shutter, brows going slack as he takes a deep inhale.
But you want to give him the same courtesy he’s been extending towards you this entire time. The decision, you want him to know, will always be his to make. “I know it might seem weird or sudden or out of the blue,” you tell him, “but I just needed you to know.” Thinking of his earlier promise you clarify, “You don’t have to say yes. I don’t even know if I’m really asking you anything—”
“You think about me?” he interrupts. “When you think about what you want in a relationship?”
The bluntness of it all still makes you want to squirm. But you hold steady. “Yeah,” you tell him.
“And when you think about having sex,” He’s so direct. It makes you want to hide your face behind your hands. “That’s me too?”
You can’t quite manage words this time, but your nod is confirmation enough.
Jungwon exhales, even harsher than before. “Are you just curious?” he asks. “It’s fine if you are, but I can’t— we can’t do this if you’re just trying to scratch an itch. If you’re just doing it to move on, to get over a fear.”
“I…” you’re trying to read between the lines, to make sure that you understand what he’s saying. It seems obvious, but there’s a strange haze in your mind that has you doubting everything, including your own judgement. “If we do…”
Jungwon doesn’t seem to have the same reservations for spelling it out. “If we have sex.”
“Oh,” you breathe. And then, “No.” You shake your head.
“No?” He echoes.
“I…” You trail off, trying to find the right words to explain. “I’m not—There’s no fear when it comes to you. I’m not trying to get over anything. And there’s no one else that I even want to be with like that, so…” You trail off, searching for the words. “You told me it was my choice, and I guess I just want you to know that it’s yours, too. You don’t have to agree to anything, because you’re afraid of disappointing me or hurting my feelings or—”
“___,” he whispers your name, the sound nearly broken on his lips. You look up at him, eyes wide. “Come here,” he begs.
It only takes two tiny steps for you to stand just before him, for your chests to nearly brush. For a moment, Jungwon does nothing. Then, his arms come up, one circling around your shoulders, the other against the small of your back as he pulls you flush to him.
The side of your face rests against his chest, his heartbeat erratic under your cheek. You hear him sigh and feel the way his breath flutters through your hair.
He leans back, just slightly, and you follow the movement, chin tilting upwards as your eyes meet his. The hand wrapped around your shoulders slowly unravels itself. He brings his hand up to your temple, brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.
His other hand stays steady against the small of your back.
Jungwon’s fingertips linger against the shell of your ear for a moment. You suppress a shudder as he begins to drag them down, tracing the line of your jaw until they come to settle just beneath your chin.
“Is this okay?” he whispers.
You nod, the movement making his fingers press more firmly into your skin.
Then, slowly, he begins to lean towards you. His nose brushes against yours, once, twice, a third time.
“I’ve thought about this,” he admits. “More times than I can count.”
He’s told you as much before, but now, with his hands on you and his lips just inches away, it feels different. It feels real.
“I imagined you looking at me,” he hums, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “with those big, wide eyes.” Another kiss, this time to the curve of your cheekbone. “Clinging to me,” a kiss to your eyelid as it flutters shut. “Sighing.” The tip of your nose. “And I’d try to hold back, but—”
“You don’t have to,” you shake your head. It comes out quieter than you mean for it too. It’s ridiculous, maybe, but even now, you feel shy.
“You mean that?” he asks, lips hovering so close you can feel their warmth.
You nod, nose brushing against his.
Jungwon sighs, takes a deep breath. And then he presses forward, just enough, until his lips finally brush against yours.
His grip tightens against you, fingers bunching the fabric of your shirt that rests against the small of your back.
He’s gentle, so impossibly sweet as his lips find yours. Upper lip slotting between both of yours, he tugs slightly against your bottom lip. Releases it with a soft, wet sound. Smiles against you as you giggle into him.
When his lips find yours again, it’s with renowned fervency. The pressure is more insistent this time, more demanding as he uses the hand beneath your jaw to angle you his liking.
Jungwon takes the lead, pausing, soothing his touch against your skin while you adjust to his pace.
Your hands find his hair, tangling in the strands near his neck. You tug, an involuntary response when you feel his teeth against your bottom lip, and he groans, shuddering against you.
Without breaking connection, he moves, walking backwards, leading blindly, until he sits down on the same couch you’ve been sharing moments on for weeks now. This time, he tugs you down with him, pulling you flush against his lap.
You feel it then, the evidence of just how affected he is. As if the drunk flush on his cheeks and swollen, red tint of his lips weren’t enough.
Jungwon wraps both hands around your waist now, pulling you tighter to him as your fingers cup his jaw, tracing, gripping.
You feel it then, his tongue against the seam of your lips, and you part them without a second thought.
Jungwon waits until you’re breathless above him to decide that he’s had enough of this position. Using the leverage of his hands around you, he maneuvers your body until you're flat against the cushions, head propped against the pillow that sits by the armrest.
Hovering over you now, he uses his hands to brace himself on either side of your head. Eyes trained on your features, on the evidence of his ministrations. His gaze gets darker, heavier, as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. Skin flushed, lips swollen and parted in anticipation, in permission.
Jungwon’s had his fantasies. Has kept them close to his chest and in the back of his mind for longer than he’d be willing to admit. But the sight of you now. Under him, reaching for him, begging for him, is enough to shatter every wet dream he’s had since he was a teenager.
Jungwon doesn’t maintain distance for long. Leaning down, he invades all of your senses. All you can see, even with your eyes screwed shut, is him. All you can feel is his lips, warm and insistent against your, the press of his hands on you, hovering just above the sliver of skin where your shirt had ridden up over your waistband. Every sound, every scent, every taste—it’s all him. Something warm and familiar and entirely new all at once.
His hand plays with the fabric of your hem for a moment, testing the waters. When all you do is kiss him back—harder—he decides to press his luck. Fingertips dancing against the bare skin of your lower stomach, he starts to drag your shirt upwards.
The air of his apartment is cool, even if his touch is anything but. It makes every inch of exposed skin that much more sensitive, goosebumps rising as his fingertips trace patterns against you.
His lips press against yours, a new angle, as a sound loosens itself from your chest. He swallows it, tongue pressing against you like he wants to savor it, like he’d do anything to hear it again.
He has your shirt nearly to your ribcage now, fingers tracing against the bottom seam of your bra, nerves singing with something new as you arch up against him. You need more.
Friction, pressure, touch, it doesn’t matter. You’ll take whatever he gives you.
Then, suddenly, you remember. Pulling back slightly, his lips chase yours.
“Wait,” you pant, the syllable muffled as he presses another kiss against you.
Once your request registers, he stops, mouth still brushing against yours. Leaning back slightly, he frowns. His chest still heaves when he asks, “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you nod, breathless. “But what about Jake?”
“What?” Jungwon asks above you. You don’t seem to be the only one struggling with coherent thought.
“Jake,” you repeat. “What if he comes in?”
He wouldn’t see anything, not really. Even the expanse of your bare torso is covered by Jungwon’s body on yours. But still, something in you hesitates. This, all of it, is for you and him. No one else.
Jungwon shakes his head. “He’s not home.”
“What if he comes back?”
“He won’t,” Jungwon insists. “He’s visiting his family for the weekend. He won’t be back until Monday.”
Still breathing hard, it’s as if your interruption knocked sense back into him. Palm still splayed against your ribs, he rubs gentle strokes with the pad of his thumb.
Looking down at you, his eyes crinkle slightly at the way you look so sweet under him, so shy despite what you’d been doing only moments earlier.
“Hey,” he leans down, nudging his nose against yours, “You doing okay?”
You nod, but you still don’t match his gaze.
“Yeah?” he confirms, “Then look at me.”
It takes a moment, but you do. Your cheeks only redden further, flush more apparent than he’s ever seen it before when you finally meet his eye.
Something in his chest swells. You might be a year older, but fuck if it doesn’t make him feel like such a man knowing that he’s the reason you look like this, that he’s the one who did this to you.
“You’re so pretty,” he whispers, grinning when you look away again. He presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. A chaste peck against the seam of your lips. “My beautiful, perfect girl.”
“Jungwon,” you whine.
“What?” he asks. “It’s true.”
“I thought you wanted to kiss me.”
“I can take a break to compliment you?”
You flush again, hands coming up to cover your face.
“Ah, ah,” Jungwon tsks, fingers wrapping around your wrists. “I asked you to look at me.” He pulls, gentle but insistent, until your hands fall away. Until he can once again look you in the eye.
“How long are you just gonna stare at me?” you ask.
“As long as you’ll let me,” he grins.
“Jungwon,” you whine again.
“Why?” he asks, practically cooing at you now. “Is my baby shy?”
You shudder at the pet name, and it awakens something devious in him.
“Oh,” he breathes. “I see. You’re getting impatient. Need me to touch you. Is that it?”
All you do is whine, but it’s a good enough answer for him.
“C’mon,” he urges, leaning back. “Up.”
You frown at the sudden distance, a furrow creasing your brow.
“The first time we have sex is not going to be on my living room couch,” he explains. Taking your hand in his, he guides you instead towards his bedroom.
And it’s not like you’ve never been here before, but something about the low light, the weight of what you’re about to do, makes it feel like uncharted territory.
You step into the room, even further than Jungwon, eyes trained on the queen size bed pressed up under the window on the far side of the room.
Your back to him, you hear Jungwon pull the door shut. It latches into place with a quiet click. And then, behind you, he asks, “What are you thinking about?”
“You,” you admit, turning to face him as you sit on the edge of his bed. “Us. I never thought…” you trail off, palm smoothing against the top of his sheets. “I never thought we’d be here.”
“I did,” Jungwon tells you.
“Really?” Your eyes widen when you look at him.
“Maybe thought is the wrong word,” he amends. “But I hoped.” He’s quiet for a moment, emotions playing out across his features. “Now that you’re here, I…” he hesitates, trying to find the words. “I don’t want to do anything wrong,” he admits. “I don’t want to scare you.”
“You won’t.” You shake your head. “I told you. I trust you. That includes this, too.”
Jungwon looks at you, gaze open. “You mean that?”
“Of course,” you nod.
Some of the tension drains from his broad shoulders, but he stays where he is, silhouette shrouded in the dim light of his bedroom.
This time, it’s you who takes charge.
“Jungwon,” you whisper, an echo of your earlier embrace in his entry way. “Come here.”
That’s all the encouragement he needs. His footsteps are even, steady, as he makes his way towards you. All the way until he stands just before you, looking down at where you sit on his sheets.
His hand comes to your cheek, thumb tracing patterns against your skin as you lean into his touch.
“Up,” he instructs. “Back against the pillows.” His hand falls from your face, trails down until his fingers interlace with yours. He follows in your wake as you move according to his instructions, all the way until you’re in a ghost of the position from his couch.
His body hovers over yours, breath warm as it fans against your cheekbone.
Again, his fingers find the hem of your shirt. This time, he’s less shy about pressing it upwards, all the way until it sits against the band of your bra.
Plain, black, built more for comfort than arousal. But you know Jungwon. He’ll take you as you are.
“Jungwon,” you breathe, just as his fingertip slips beneath the band. It takes him a moment to tear his eyes away, to look up and meet your gaze. “Kiss me.”
He doesn’t need to be told twice.
Lips meeting yours, the slow build from before is gone. He knows what he’s searching for now, has already learned what rhythm makes you breathless fastest, palms splaying against his chest like you’d do anything to be closer.
His hand comes to your hip, then slides to the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You shudder as he guides it open, pliant to his touch. Jungwon uses the newly created space to slot his leg in between yours.
The shift has him brushing against you where tension is beginning to gather, exactly where you’re beginning to ache.
It feels good, but there’s something frustrating about it. The way sensation builds and falls in the same maddening ebb and flow, like the sea of an uncharacteristically quiet day.
You already know it’s not enough. Against his lips, you whine. A pathetic little sound that stays half trapped in your throat. But Jungwon understands.
Sees the way your hips are starting to roll against him, the way your brow creases in concentration as you try to find a better angle.
Leg still between yours, he lets his fingertips ghost over the planes of your bare stomach, dragging downwards until he’s exactly where you want him.
You whine against his lips and he shudders. “Is this what you need?”
You can hardly respond, can hardly think as his fingers dip below your waistband. Far more precise, it doesn’t take long to have you seeing stars.
He’s still kissing you, and you do your best to return it, but the sensations he levels you with are more than a little maddening. Lips parted against his, your mouth is practically slack as he works against you.
“Feels—good,” you sigh, eyes screwing shut.
“I can tell,” he whispers, some kind of awe in his voice. “Look at you.”
You’re so close. Jungwon can tell, too. He’s frantic now, movements tighter, faster as he watches the way your face twists in pleasure.
Your hand closes around his wrist, stopping him. “Jungwon,” you pant, the sound of his name hardly coherent. “Wait.”
Immediately, his hand stills. He doesn’t pull away though, just leaves it there, against you.
The sensation sends a fresh, aching throb pulsing from somewhere deep within you. Jungwon feels it too, against his fingertips, and groans.
Remembering himself, he asks, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you shake your head. “I just… I’m ready.”
Jungwon thinks he knows what you mean. He’s imagined those same words from you before. A million times, in a million different contexts. But the sight of you beneath him, eyes wide, lips parted, so terribly sweet, is so much better than he ever dreamed.
“I want you,” you whisper, tugging at his wrist. “Please.”
Jungwon won’t make you wait. Fingers still hidden beneath your waistband, he slides them towards the top now, pulling, all the way until you’re bare beneath him.
He presses a kiss against your hip, just shy of where he was moments before.
He helps you slide your shirt over your head and shudders when your bra follows in its wake. He marvels at the feeling of your hands, smaller than his, tugging at his shirt, his jeans, until the two of you are in an equal state of undress.
Again, because it’s true and because he can’t help himself, he whispers, “You’re beautiful.”
You’re still shy, even more so with the weight of his gaze on you, but you manage, “So are you.” It’s his turn to flush.
Hands pressing against your shoulders, he guides you to lay down again. Hair fanning out against his pillows, he thinks you look a bit like an angel here, tangled in his sheets.
He’d tell you, if he weren’t so distracted by the sudden feeling of your leg coming to wrap around his waist.
Skin against skin, it feels even closer than before. Warmer, Softer.
“Jungwon,” your brows pull downward, eyes fluttering shut as you chase the sensations that have begun to drown you. “Please.”
He moves slowly, not from hesitation. Jungwon doesn’t think he’s ever been so sure of anything in his life. But he knows what this means to you, to him. He wants to take his time, wants to let every part of you adjust to him until you feel like an extension of one another, until your bodies can’t quite tell where one ends and the other begins.
He swallows your gasp as he presses into you. Brows furrowed, lips parted, he drops his head into the crook of your neck, scattering soothing kisses down the length of your throat.
“Feels so good,” he encourages as you whimper, adjusting. “Perfect, like you were made for me.”
The sentiment rings true, now and later, when he feels you relax around him, when he starts to move.
Slowly, reverently, at a pace that lets him press as deep as possible.
He brings his hand from your hip to the space just beneath your navel, palm splaying over your lower stomach, just above where he presses inside of you. Pushing down slightly, the added pressure makes you whine, tightening around him.
Jungwon groans, a long, deep sound that vibrates between your bodies.
“Jungwon,” you whisper, when the ache starts to sing, when the pressure starts to build. When you close your eyes and see stars behind them.
“I know,” he pants, like he feels it too. “It’s okay,” he assures. “I have you.”
It’s a reminder of what brought you here in the first place. And the sound of his voice is all you need.
Keening high in your throat, every muscle, every nerve, every fiber in your body goes taut. Tightens, pulls, before it releases. Jungwon leans down, lips parted against your collarbone as he groans, falling over the same edge only moments after you.
The shower he runs for you is warm, the touch he washes your hair with soothing as he rinses soap from your scalp.
The sheets are soft as you crawl between them, Jungwon’s chest firm as he pulls you tight against him.
“Sleep,” he whispers, pressing a gentle kiss against your temple.
Body exhausted, mind sated, it doesn’t take long for you to do as he says. In his arms, the rest that finds you is deep and dreamless.
…..
“Name?” Across from you, the secretary that sits at the front desk looks bored out of her mind. As if she’s seen one too many potential new hires and doesn’t think they’re worth remembering at this point.
You give her your name, and she types a brief note into her computer. Doesn’t bother memorizing it, but you won’t let that get to you, not today.
“You can sit over there.” She gestures towards the row of chairs against the far wall of the reception area. With a smile so tight you think her jaw must hurt, she adds, “I’ll call you when they’re ready.”
It’s not much. It’s barely even polite, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. Not when this is the first real company you’ve stepped foot in in months. When this is the first time you’ve gotten a string of congratulations in the subject line of your email inbox instead of rejections.
Still, it isn’t a sure thing. A test run, the hiring manager had called it. A week of in-person work at the company to see if you’ll be a good fit, if they’re willing to formally offer you a position.
An extension of the already lengthy interview process you’ve been subjected to for the last six weeks. But it’s far more than you’ve gotten from anywhere else.
It’s enough to have hope soaring in your chest, even at the prospect of a week of what is essentially unpaid labor.
Sliding down into the chair, you tug at the sleeve of your blazer, smooth the collar over one final time.
In your mind, you rehearse the answers you gave during your interviews. You’re not sure if you’ll be asked again, but you figure it’s better to be safe than sorry.
You’re interested in the position, because the company’s mission statement excites you. You think it aligns well with your experience and your hopes for a future career.
Are you good with deadlines? Better than nearly everyone you know. Do you work well under pressure? Absolutely. Where do you see yourself in five years? Advancing in your career as a young professional in the same field you earned your degree in. The same field a position at this company would put you in.
As the minutes pass, you remind yourself to breathe, to relax. The butterflies taking flight in your stomach won’t help you now, so you do your best to banish them.
And, minutes later, just as the secretary calls your name, you feel your phone buzz.
Glancing down, you grin at the message that comes through.
You got this, Jungwon says, the small heart next to his contact name shining like a reminder. Knock em dead
And then, beneath it,
Can’t wait to see you tonight beautiful
So, you stand up a little straighter. Shoulders square, chin high. You’re okay, even as your nerves threaten to send your heart beating out of your chest.
No matter what the results of this so-called trial run are, or every single attempt you’ll surely make after it, you’ll be fine. And if you fail, you’ll try again.
Whether this ends in an official offer letter or a bold-faced rejection, no matter what, you have Jungwon—rooting for you, thinking of you, waiting for you to come back and tell him all about it.
Jungwon, your best friend, your favorite person, and probably, if the feelings you’re starting to get whenever he’s near are anything to go by, the love of your life.
You meet the secretary’s gaze, smiling even as all she does is arch a brow. And then you tell her, “I’m ready.”
𝓦𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐈𝐍⠀ ✶ ⠀your husband, park jongseong, has spent his entire life getting exactly what he wants. unfortunately for him, you're the one person completely immune to his spoiled antics. what begins as a harmless disagreement quickly spirals into an hour of relentless whining, one very exasperated wife, and a lesson your husband never realized he desperately needed.
𝟑𝟕𝟏𝟓 🗯️ ✽ ─── ⏾ 𝗵𝘂𝘀𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗱 park jongseong⠀x ⠀ 𝓯 ! rea ´ ꒳ ` 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 : established relationship ˒ porn without a plot ˒ brat taming ˒ light angst with a nice ending ˒
𝔀𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : explicit sexual content ⋮ 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘂𝗱𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲𝘀, 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗱𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 ✿ oral sex (m. receiving) ˒ creampie ˒ unprotected p in v ˒ handjob ˒ dirty talk ˒ praise kink ˒ edging ˒ degradation kink ˒ make-up sex ˒ consensual power dynamics ˒ dacryphilia ˒
𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬⠀ ✶ ⠀ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭
🍸 。 𝐞𝐥’𝐬 𝐛𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞 i love love love me some submissive jay ugh ! anyways happy july guys i love you all so so muchi
"Y/N! You're being too dramatic—it's literally just a restaurant. We've been to this one multiple times, and you're only acting up now? What gives?"
Jay's voice bounces off the marble countertops of the kitchen, sharp and incredulous. He's been trailing behind you like a lost puppy for the better part of an hour, and his patience is wearing thinner than the gold trim on his daddy's credit card.
The argument is absurd, really — over a restaurant. Your monthsary dinner, to be exact. Every single time, without fail, Jay insists on the same overpriced venue with the same underwhelming menu: three kinds of salad, a charcuterie board that tastes like cardboard, and a wine list longer than the actual food options. A new place had opened across the district, equally elegant, actually varied, garlic bread that supposedly redefined the concept, and you'd simply suggested switching things up.
Jay had said no. Not because he had a real reason, but because that was his default. No was his reflex, and everyone in his life had always caved right after.
You hadn't caved.
So here he was, spiraling.
You continued walking, pacing circles through the ground floor of the house, not even granting him the courtesy of eye contact. That made it worse. Jay's jaw tightened as he trailed you from the kitchen to the living room, back to the kitchen, then into the hallway.
"Y/N, seriously?" He huffed, running a hand through his dark hair. "I'll take your silence as a yes then. That solves the problem. We're going to the usual place."
You stopped. Turned. Looked at him with a gaze so flat it could've smoothed granite.
"God damn it, Jongseong. Just give me a moment, can't you? You're way too stubborn for a lot to be coming out of your mouth."
Jongseong? Jongseong. Not Jay. His real name, the one you only used when you were genuinely agitated, and it landed like a slap. His lips parted, something flickering behind his eyes, shock, maybe, that you weren't folding, that you weren't apologizing the way everyone else always did. His family, his friends, his staff, they all gave in. You never did. That was why he loved you, though he was currently too bratty to remember it.
"Me? Stubborn?" He let out a disbelieving laugh, gesturing at you with both hands. "Please. You're the stubborn one here. We wouldn't even be arguing if you just caved. It's tradition, Y/N. We always go there. Why mess with something that works?"
"It doesn't work. You just don't like change." You turned on your heel and walked toward the stairs. "Because nobody's ever made you deal with it."
"That's not—" He followed you, footsteps quickening. "That's not fair. I'm not some spoiled brat, I just—Y/N, come on. Can you stop walking away from me?"
No response. You climbed the stairs, one deliberate step at a time, and his voice climbed with you, gaining pitch and desperation. He rambled about tradition, about how the other restaurant probably wasn't even that good, about how you were being unreasonable, about how he always compromised — laughable, really, given that he'd never once compromised anything in his entire privileged life.
You reached the hallway. The bedroom door was ajar.
Then something in you simply snapped. Not with anger. With resolve. Enough was enough.
You turned, caught his wrist mid-stride, and pulled. Jay stumbled forward with a startled yelp, and you walked him the remaining steps to the bed, pressing a palm against his chest and pushing. He fell back onto the mattress with a soft thud, not hard, not violent, but firm enough that his eyes went wide, mouth opening and closing like a fish pulled from water. He stared up at you from the sheets, hair fanning across the pillow, chest rising and falling faster than it had any right to.
"Y/N, what—"
"Shut up." You climbed onto the bed, onto him, knees bracketing his hips, and planted both hands flat against his chest. Beneath your palms, his heartbeat was already racing. "You've been following me around this house for an hour, Jongseong, whining like a child who got his toy taken away. Has anyone ever told you no before? Has anyone ever not given you what you wanted?"
His throat bobbed. "I—"
"That was rhetorical." You leaned down, close enough that your breath fanned across his lips. His eyelashes fluttered. "You're used to people bending for you. Apologizing. Folding the second you pout. That's not how this works. You don't get to bulldoze over me because you've never heard the word no before."
"I wasn't—I wasn't trying to—"
"You were." You shifted your weight, pressing your hips down against his, and the sound that escaped him, a broken and breathy thing, made heat pool low in your stomach. Already. Just from this. From you barely touching him. "You were trying to wear me down until I gave in. That's what you do, isn't it? Push and push until people just hand you what you want because it's easier than fighting you."
He didn't answer. Couldn't, maybe. His hands had found your thighs, fingers curling into the fabric of your shorts, and his chest was heaving like he'd run a marathon.
"You're pathetic," you murmured, and the word landed soft and devastating. "A spoiled, bratty, pathetic boy who can't handle being told no. And look at you now." You rolled your hips — a slow grind that dragged the seam of your shorts directly against the growing hardness in his sweats. "You're already this hard? From me just telling you off?"
A whimper. Actual, honest-to-god whimper, high and thready, his head pressing back into the pillow.
"That worked up after just me grinding on your pathetic dick?" You ground down again, harder, watching his face contort, eyebrows drawing together, lips parting, a moan slipping free before he could catch it. "This is what gets you going, isn't it? Someone finally not putting up with your shit?"
"Baby—" His voice cracked. "Y/N, please—"
"Please what? What am I gonna do with that please of yours? Use your words, Jongseong. You had plenty of them downstairs." Another grind, slower, torturous, and his hips bucked up involuntarily, chasing friction that you immediately denied by lifting yourself just out of reach. He let out a shattered exhale, fingers tightening on your thighs. "What do you want?"
"You. I want—please touch me."
"I am touching you." You slid one hand from his chest to his jaw, gripping it firm, angling his face so he couldn't look away. "You mean you want more. Say it properly."
His eyes were glassy, overwhelmed, and his lower lip trembled. "I want more. Please, Y/N. I'm sorry—I'm sorry for being—"
"Sorry for being what?" You tilted your head, pressing your hips back down, resuming that maddening grind. The friction made your own pulse throb, but you kept your expression cool, controlled. "Say it."
"Sorry for being—a brat. For—fuck—" He swallowed thickly as you picked up the pace, rolling against him in deep, rhythmic waves. "For always needing to get my way. I'm sorry, baby, I'm sorry, please—"
"Good." You released his jaw and reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it up and off in one motion. His torso was lean, flushed pink from his collarbones down to his stomach, muscles tensing under your gaze. Pretty. He was so pretty, and even prettier like this, undone, desperate, trembling beneath you like you hadn't already given him everything he'd ever asked for. "You know, Jongseong," you said, dragging your nails lightly down his chest, watching goosebumps rise in their wake, "I think you needed this. Someone to put you back in your place."
He nodded frantically, a mess of ragged breath and half-formed sounds.
You leaned down and kissed him, hard and bruising, all teeth and tongue, swallowing the moan that poured from his mouth. Your hands found his sweats, yanking the waistband down along with his boxers, and his cock sprang free, flushed and leaking at the tip, straining against nothing. You pulled back from the kiss just to look at it, then at him, and let out a low, mocking laugh.
"You're dripping, baby. That's adorable." You wrapped your fingers around him, just barely, just enough to feel the heat and the way he throbbed against your palm, and his hips jerked up, a choked sound ripping from his throat. "So needy. So desperate. And for what? A little grinding and some mean words? That's all it takes?"
"Y/N—" His hand flew to your wrist, not pushing or pulling, just holding, like he didn't know what to do with himself.
You tightened your grip and stroked him once, slow, base to tip, swiping your thumb over the head and smearing the precum there. His back arched off the mattress, a whine ripping through the air, loud and unabashed.
"Look at you," you said softly, almost tender, which made it worse. "Whining and squirming like you've never been touched before. Tell me something, Jongseong." You stroked him again, setting a pace that was deliberately unhurried, grip just firm enough to feel good but too loose to satisfy. "You've had people before me, right? Of course, a pretty boy like you would have always had. Rich, charming. Probably had them lining up."
He nodded, biting his lip so hard it turned white.
"And how often did you actually finish with them?"
His eyes squeezed shut. A tremor ran through his thighs. "N-not—not often," he admitted, barely audible.
"Not often," you repeated, mocking. "Poor thing. Everyone is so busy worshiping you they forgot to actually take you apart, hmm?" You twisted your wrist on the upstroke, and his mouth fell open, a strangled moan echoing through the room. "No wonder you're like this. You've been half-satisfied your whole life and you didn't even know it."
"Only you—" He was gasping now, chest heaving, fingers clenching and unclenching in the sheets. "Only you can—make me—fuck, Y/N, please—"
"What? Only I can do what? Make you cum?" You slowed your hand to a crawl, and the sound he made was guttural. "Not yet. You don't get to cum until I say so. Do you understand?"
"I—I understand, please—"
"Good boy." The phrase hit him like a drug. His whole body shuddered, cock twitching violently in your hand, and you felt another bead of precum slide against your fingers. "Oh, you like that. You like being good for me."
He nodded again, frantic, tears gathering at the corners of his eyes, not from sadness but from sheer, overwhelming sensation. You leaned down, kissing the corner of his mouth, his jaw, the spot below his ear that made him whimper, and then you began to move south.
Your lips traced a path down his neck, his collarbone, his chest, pausing to drag your tongue over one nipple, then the other, making him jolt and cry out, and further, over the trembling plane of his stomach, until your face hovered above his cock. It stood angry and flushed, twitching with every exhale you let fall against it.
You looked up at him through your lashes. He was staring down at you, wrecked — hair a mess, cheeks crimson, chest rising and falling like he'd forgotten how to breathe.
"Hold my hair," you said.
He reached down with shaking hands, gathering your hair into a loose grip at the back of your head, and you took him into your mouth.
The sound he made was broken. Your lips wrapped around the head, tongue swirling, tasting salt and skin, and you sank down inch by inch, letting the heat and wetness consume him. His hips stuttered up, greedy and desperate, and you pulled off immediately, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his cock.
"What did I just say about being patient?" Your voice was cool, but your eyes were sharp.
"Sorry—sorry, baby, I'm sorry—"
"Be good." You took him again, deeper this time, flattening your tongue along the underside, and set a rhythm that was designed to ruin. Wet sounds filled the room as you bobbed your head, hollowing your cheeks, taking him as far as you could without gagging. His fingers tightened in your hair, a warning, and you felt him try to push you down, try to make you take more, and you responded by dragging your nails down his thigh.
"Ah—fuck—sorry, sorry—" he stammered, but his grip stayed, trembling, barely holding back. You pulled off again with a slick pop, and the look you gave him was pure ice.
"You want me to deepthroat, Jongseong? You ask."
"I'm sorry," he whispered, and he meant it, his voice fracturing on the second word. "Please—I'll be good—please keep going—"
You took him back into your mouth, and this time you relaxed your throat, swallowing around him, taking him deep, deep, until your nose pressed against his pelvis and he screamed, a shattered sound that bounced off the walls. His hips canted up involuntarily again but he caught himself this time, forcing himself still even as his thighs shook violently around you. Good. He was learning.
You set a brutal pace then, fucking your own throat on his cock, hollowing your cheeks, dragging suction that had him writhing and crying out in a mess of syllables — your name, baby, please, oh god, more, please more. His cock throbbed against your tongue, heavy and hot, and you could feel him getting close, his stomach tightening, his moans climbing higher, his hands trembling in your hair.
You pulled off.
"No—" The word ripped out of him, desperate, almost angry. "Y/N, no, I was—right—fuck—"
"Calm down, I know." You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, calm as anything, while he stared at you with wild, tear-glazed eyes. "You were close. And?"
"And I—please let me cum, please, I need it—"
"You need it?" You wrapped your hand around him again, slick with your own spit, and started stroking, slowly, so slowly, feeling every ridge and vein, every pulse of his racing heartbeat echoing through his cock. "You need it, but you've been a brat all day. Why should I let you?"
"I said I was sorry—I am sorry—" He was babbling now, words tumbling over each other, hips rocking up into your fist in tiny, uncontrollable thrusts. "I won't—I won't do it again, I'll listen, I'll go to whatever restaurant you want, I'll—ah—"
"Whatever restaurant I want," you repeated, amused. "You'd agree to anything right now, wouldn't you?"
"Yes," he gasped. "Anything. Anything you want, Y/N, just—please don't stop—"
You didn't stop. You kept stroking, kept that same torturous pace, watching him climb higher and higher. His abs clenched, his toes curled, his breath came in short, ragged huffs, and his cock jumped in your grip, once, twice, right at the edge.
And you felt it. That telltale tensing, the way his thighs locked up, the way his mouth opened in a silent cry.
"Oh?" You tilted your head, voice dripping with faux surprise, your hand never faltering. "You're about to cum already? Just like that?"
"I—yes—please, Y/N, let me—"
"Do I make you that needy?" You squeezed the base of his cock, and he actually sobbed. "All those people before me, and none of them could get you there, could they? But I can. Just my hand, just my mouth, and you're already falling apart."
"Only you," he choked out, and the words were so raw, so honest, that something in your chest clenched. "Only you, Y/N, nobody else—nobody's ever made me feel like this—please, I'm right there, I'm so close, please let me cum—"
"You're close," you echoed, and your voice softened, just a fraction, just enough for the air to shift. You stroked him steadily now, grip tight, pace deliberate, leaning down so your face was inches from his. "You've been so good, Jongseong. So good for me. Taking what I give you. Learning."
His eyes searched yours, wet and pleading and so impossibly open.
"You deserve it," you said quietly. "Cum for me."
And he would have, right then, right there, with those words, but you had something else in mind.
You let go of him.
His eyes flew wide with panic, but before he could protest, you were standing, shucking your shorts and underwear in one motion, and then you were back on him, straddling his hips, and you reached between your bodies to position him at your entrance.
"You want to cum inside me, baby?" You asked, and your voice had dropped low, rough, almost as affected as his.
"Yes," he breathed. "Please—"
You sank down.
The noise he made wasn't human. A full-body shudder wracked through him as you took him to the hilt, your own breath catching at the stretch, the fullness, the way he filled you so completely that your vision blurred at the edges. You gave yourself a moment, just one, to adjust, to feel the desperate throb of him inside you, and then you moved.
You bounced on him, once, twice, three times, deep, forceful strokes that had him hitting spots that made your thighs tremble. Your hand found his hair, fingers threading through the dark strands, and you gripped, firm and possessive, tugging his head back so he had no choice but to look at you.
"Eyes on me," you commanded. "Don't you dare look away."
He didn't. He couldn't. His gaze was locked on yours, glassy and worshipful, tears spilling freely now down his temples, mouth open in a silent, endless moan. You rode him hard, those few strokes enough to undo everything you'd built and broken and built again, and on the fourth bounce, he shattered.
His orgasm hit like a wrecking ball. He came with a sound that was barely a word and you felt him pulse inside you, hot and thick, filling you in waves that seemed to go on and on. His hips jerked up helplessly, overstimulated, and you kept moving, kept riding him through it, chasing the pressure that had been building in your own core since the moment you first ground against him.
It didn't take long. You were already so close, had been close through all of it, the power, the control, the way he looked at you like you were the center of his universe, and within a handful of strokes, your own orgasm crashed through you. Your walls clenched around him, milking his cock in pulses that drew a weak whimper from his throat, and your spine curved as pleasure whited out every thought in your head.
Then silence. Or something close to it, just the sound of two people breathing, ragged and uneven, slowly coming back to earth.
You collapsed forward.
Your face fell into the curve of his neck, his shoulder, and his arms came around you immediately, instinctive, warm, wrapping you up like you were something precious. His cock was still inside you, softening, and neither of you moved to change that. His hand found the back of your head, fingers threading gently through your hair, and he ruffled it softly, tenderly, the way you'd grip him when you were commanding him. A mirror. A response. His other arm banded around your waist, pulling you flush against his chest.
For a long moment, you just breathed.
Then your chest hitched.
It wasn't supposed to happen. You'd been in control, composed, untouchable — but now, in the quiet aftermath, with his heartbeat steady beneath your cheek and his hands so impossibly gentle on your body, something cracked open inside you. A wave of tenderness so acute it hurt, and tangled up in it was guilt, the sharp, stinging kind that came from the realization that you'd been cruel. You'd called him pathetic. Degraded him. Treated him like he was less than, even if he'd liked it, even if he'd asked for it with every whimper and whine.
Your eyes burned.
"Baby?" Jay's voice was soft, concerned, the brattiness entirely gone. He shifted, trying to see your face, but you buried it deeper into his neck. "Hey. Y/N. What's wrong?"
"Nothing," you mumbled, but your voice cracked, and you hated it. "I'm fine."
"You're not." He pulled back just enough to look at you, and his thumb found your cheek, catching the tear that had just begun to slide down your face, one single tear, the only one that escaped before you clamped down. He wiped it away with more care than you deserved, his touch feather-light. "Why are you crying?"
"Because I was mean to you," you whispered, and the admission felt like pulling off a bandage. "I didn't—I didn't want to be that harsh, I just—you were driving me crazy, and I—"
"Hey. Hey." He cupped your face in both hands, tilting it up so you had to meet his eyes. They were warm. So warm it made your throat ache. "You weren't mean. You were exactly what I needed." A small, breathy laugh escaped him. "I've never… Y/N, I've never felt like that before. Ever. You're the only person who doesn't just give me whatever I want, and I need that. I need you."
"But I—"
"You put me in my place," he said simply. "And I probably needed it a long time ago." His thumb traced the curve of your cheekbone, sweeping away the dampness there, and he pressed a kiss to your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, soft, lingering, nothing like the bruising kiss from earlier. "I'm sorry for being a brat. I'll try harder. Okay?"
"I'm sorry too," you breathed against his mouth.
"Don't be." He smiled, the one that crinkled his eyes and made him look younger, softer, stripped of all the privilege and pretense. "And for the record—we can go to the new restaurant. I was being stupid."
A wet laugh escaped you, and he caught it with another kiss, pulling you tighter against him, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other traced lazy patterns on your spine.
You melted into him, every hard edge, every sharp word, every ounce of dominance dissolving into something small, soft, and fiercely tender.
✷ NOTE : thank you all so, so much for reading ! i hope you enjoyed this little world for a while ♡ all of this is purely a work of fiction & doesn’t reflect reality at all . . likes, reblogs, and feedback are deeply cherished and very, very appreciated on here !
synopsis - when your university dorm burns down, your older brother, lee heeseung, says you can move in with him and his roommates in their apartment. unfortunately for jake sim, this new, gorgeous addition to his life is strictly off limits.
status - completed
author’s note - y’all this is my first ever smau and I’m highkey winging it so bear with me!! also I know the best friend’s sister trope is constantly done BUT I LOVE IT OK also remember this is fictional and just for funsies
꒰ ﹒ pairing: heeseung x fem!reader … ﹒dancer! heeseung and volleyball player!reader, soft-spoken! heeseung, riki is reader's younger brother, everyone is of age, fluff, smut﹒ w/c: 8.7k~ summary: heeseung fell in love with you at first sight, but he thinks you're way out of his league. you find his quiet and soft-spoken personality quite charming. the tension is thick, and riki decides to play cupid since he finds you two hopeless.
꒰ ﹒ warnings: does contain suggestive content and smut at the end so NSFW (18+), oral fem receiving, face sitting, praising, begging, overstimulation, heeseung and reader just down bad for each other
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
Y/N came home from her volleyball game to find her brother, Riki, and one of his dance academy friends playing video games in the living room. The whole room was practically trashed. There were empty soda cans and food wrappers discarded all over the place. She set her duffle bag down by the front door and walked past them on the couch.
“You better clean that,” she told him.
“Mhm, yeah,” Riki grunted, not even putting in the effort to turn his head to look at her.
Riki’s friend, who was sitting next to him on the couch, did glance over. The moment their eyes met, Y/N was able to see him short circuit, and his pupils dilated. She had never seen this friend of Riki’s before. She smiled politely at him before turning to head into the kitchen.
“Heeseung, you dumb bitch, you’re making us lose,” Riki yelled.
Heeseung’s neck was still craned towards the kitchen, watching her figure retreat past the doorframe. The last thing he saw was her braided ponytail whip out of view. He remained frozen, his mouth slightly agape in pure astonishment. His mind was reeling.
Who was that goddess that just blessed my eyeballs?! Have I died and gone to heaven? He thought.
Riki groaned and threw the controller on the table in frustration after the game was abruptly cut short due to Heeseung’s lack of involvement.
“Dude, what the hell,” he glared at Heeseung, but his gaze was still fixed towards the kitchen.
“Can we take a break? I’m hungry,” Heeseung mumbled.
Riki noted the dazed expression on Heeseung’s face and rolled his eyes. It wasn’t the first time one of his friends thought his older sister was attractive.
“I’ll save you the trouble,” Riki leaned over to whisper, “Y/N doesn’t like losers like you.”
This snapped Heeseung out of whatever trance Y/N put on him, and he glared at his friend.
“I’m not a loser,” he said defensively.
“Yes you are,” Riki said, bringing his hand up to count on his fingers, “You still wear Spider man underwear, and you have to sleep with a nightlight. Oh my god. Remember when you farted on those plastic chairs and it vibrated so loud-”
A soft snort interrupted him. Both Riki and Heeseung’s heads turned to find Y/N standing in the kitchen doorframe again. She had a plate full of food in her hands. Heeseung’s cheeks blushed a deep red, and he groaned. He grabbed a couch pillow and shoved it over his face, hiding it from Y/N’s view.
“What’s wrong with Spider man?” she teased.
“He also has a keyboard collection,” Riki continued, “His bedroom is practically empty otherwise. You can tell he’s never felt the touch of a woman-”
Heeseung groaned again and swung his foot out to kick Riki in an attempt to silence him.
“Dude,” he hissed.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Heeseung,” she laughed.
She gave Heeseung an amused smile as she walked past them once more. Heeseung’s wide eyes followed her as she retreated to her bedroom. His neck snapped forward as Riki slapped him upside the head.
“She will never like you,” Riki stated.
“Who said anything about liking her?” he huffed.
“It’s written all over your face. You’re not the first, though,” Riki clicked his tongue, “If Sunghoon couldn’t bag her, you’re cooked, bro.”
Heeseung choked on his spit. Sunghoon was their friend and another dancer at their academy. He was quite possibly the most attractive guy in a hundred kilometer radius, and he was also interested in Y/N…
“Wait, she said no to him?” Heeseung gawked.
“Yes, it was so embarrassing for him. Sunghoon is only a little weird, but at least he makes up for it in his looks. You, on the other hand, are cooked,” Riki shook his head.
“I’m not ugly,” Heeseung grumbled.
“No, but you’re too weird.”
-
Every time Heeseung came over to play video games with Riki, he waved and softly said hi to Y/N if she was in the room. She always smiled and waved back, and it made his heart leap out of his chest. He had never seen someone so pretty…
However, that was as far as interactions went with her. He was never alone with her, and he was not going to risk talking to her in front of Riki. He was already praying for his downfall. Every possible second, Riki roasted him alive about how he wasn’t good enough for Y/N. It made him want to choke him.
Little do both of them know, Y/N actually found Heeseung’s nerdy and soft-spoken nature quite charming. She loved how he couldn’t look her in the eyes for more than two seconds before looking away and blushing. It was attractive in a way.
One day when Heeseung was over, he bumped into her in the kitchen when Riki made him go get some snacks. Heeseung practically skidded to a stop when he walked through the doorway.
She glanced up at him and smiled, “Oh, hi, Heeseung.”
“Hi,” he said softly before walking in and opening the pantry to look for some snacks.
The snacks were at the front and at eye-level, but he was lingering a little too long as if he couldn't find the snacks. She stifled back a laugh.
“You have a game tomorrow, right?” Heeseung finally built up the courage to speak.
“I do,” she said.
He slowly grabbed all the snacks he thought Riki would want before closing the pantry door. He remained silent for a moment before turning to look at her.
“Good luck,” he said. “I hope you win.”
She smiled. She caught the way his eyes flickered down to her mouth briefly before his face turned red.
“Do you want to come watch?” She asked.
His eyes widened and his heart raced in his chest.
“Oh…sure,” he said, breathlessly.
“I’ll get you a ticket tomorrow,” she said.
“Thank you,” he said quietly. He was practically frozen into place. She wanted him to see her play? Was this a joke? Was she also making fun of him like her little brother does?
One look at her sincere and beautiful face made his doubts disappear. She wouldn’t do that to him. The next day when he came over, she came up to him and handed him a ticket only to confirm it. She wanted him there.
His mind was spiraling. He was going to see her play, and she was going to be wearing her uniform…he shook his head. He couldn't be thinking of things like that or else he would be in big trouble.
The day of the game, he had to lie to Riki about his plans and why he couldn’t hang out and play video games. He told him he had an exam to study for. If he found out he was at his sister’s volleyball game, he wouldn’t hear the end of it.
When the teams came out to warm up, Heeseung knew this was a mistake. He immediately spotted her in her braided ponytail, and he couldn’t help the way his eyes traced down her body. She was toned and the way the spandex shorts hugged her bottom and legs…he closed his eyes for the remainder of the warm up. He only opened them back up when he heard the whistle signaling the game was about to start.
The game itself was intense. It helped distract him. His eyes followed the ball as it was served, passed and spiked over the net. He would occasionally just watch Y/N and the focused expression on her face. He found himself really getting lost in the rhythm of the game. He almost forgot who he was here to see. Almost.
After the game ended, the teams went back to the locker rooms. People were ushered out of the gymnasium, and Heeseung wondered if she even noticed he had come.
He waited for a while outside, watching as some of the other volleyball players came out to greet their friends or family. He awkwardly stood there, looking around to see if he could spot her.
“How’d you like the game?” He heard a voice from behind him, making him jump and turn around.
There she stood, still in her uniform and a smile on her face. Heeseung swallowed nervously.
“It was good. You did good. Congratulations on winning,” he said quickly.
“Thank you,” she laughed and slung her duffel bag over her shoulder.
“I can carry that for you,” he said softly, taking the bag from her and slinging it onto his shoulder.
“Thank you.”
“Is someone coming to pick you up?” He asked. He was worried Riki would somehow pull up and see him.
“No. I was planning on walking home.”
“Walking?” He looked around, the streetlights were already on and the sun was long gone.
“Can you walk home with me?” She asked.
“Yes,” he said rather quickly, making her laugh.
The night was cool with a slight breeze. They walked side by side at an excruciatingly slow pace. Neither minded.
“Was this your first volleyball game?” She asked.
“Yes. It was fun,” he replied, “I’d go again.”
“Will you now?” She smirked slightly, making him immediately blush.
He glanced down at what she was wearing again. He stopped in his tracks and set her duffle bag down in order to take off his own backpack. She watched him curiously as he dug through his bag before pulling out a hoodie and handing it to her.
“It’s cold out. I wish I had a pair of sweats to lend you,” he said.
A smile twitched onto her lips as she took the hoodie from his hands.
“My house isn’t far. I’ll live,” she laughed, but she slipped the hoodie on anyway.
They continued to talk. It was the first time they’ve ever had a full conversation. His heart was pounding the whole time. She couldn’t help herself either. He was so easy to fluster, and it only made her tease him even more. She loved the way his cheeks would turn red and how he would begin to stutter.
“Do you want to come in?” She asked once they made it to her front door.
She was halfway through the doorway, when Riki walked by and caught a glimpse of him. He glanced between Heeseung and his sister. He noted the hoodie she was wearing. His eyes narrowed at Heeseung, the gears turning in his head. He was cooked.
“What’s he doing here?” Riki asked.
“I invited him to my game,” Y/N responded, taking her shoes off by the door.
Heeseung finally built up the courage to step inside and take his shoes off.
“This is the exam you needed to study for?” Riki asked, a wicked grin on his face.
She gave Riki a puzzled expression before turning to Heeseung. His face was as pale as a ghost’s.
“What class is the exam for?” Riki pressed further, “Anatomy?”
“Riki, shut up. Let’s go play FIFA,” Heeseung said urgently. He pressed his hand over Riki’s mouth. Riki’s muffled screaming could be heard as Heeseung dragged him away, leaving Y/N confused at the doorway.
-
Riki started to make Y/N’s life a living hell after the volleyball game.
“Why’d you invite him to your volleyball game? Did you show off? Are you trying to impress him? Do you like him?” He rapidly fired while shoveling his breakfast into his mouth before school one day.
“He seemed interested, so I invited him. I’m not trying to impress him, and that’s none of your business,” she huffed.
An evil smirk formed on Riki’s lips at her response.
“None of my business? If you’re thinking about dating my friend-“
“Riki-“
“Don’t have him over when I’m home because I don’t want to hear you guys having se-“
“RIKI!” She screamed. “You better shut up before I shove that pancake down your throat.”
“Oh, I bet you’d love to have Heeseung shove something down your throat-“
Y/N stood up so fast, the chair she was sitting on scraped against the floor. She lunged toward Riki, but he anticipated that reaction. He was already out of his seat, half a pancake dangling from his mouth. They circled the dining table slowly as if they were in a standoff. A mischievous grin was on Riki’s lips while a scowl was on Y/N’s.
“I’m telling Heeseung,” he said before grabbing his backpack and flying out the door.
Y/N groaned and sank back into her chair. The food on her plate no longer looked enticing.
Y/N began to avoid Heeseung like the plague after that interaction with Riki. She knew what Riki said wasn’t Heeseung’s fault, but she couldn't look him in the face after Riki put that image in her head. She was terrified of what Heeseung thought about her if Riki did end up telling him about the conversation they had.
Heeseung instantly noticed something was off with how Y/N was acting around him. When he would come over to hang out with Riki, she would immediately lock herself in her room without even waving or greeting him. He never saw her out in public, and if they somehow crossed paths, she would act like she didn’t see him.
It really hurt him. He thought they had been making progress. He started overanalyzing everything he had said to her, trying to find something that could have made her upset.
After the fourth time of him coming over and her locking herself in her room, Heeseung felt like giving up. He sighed and laid down on Riki’s bed as Riki began setting up the console.
“What’s wrong with you today?” Riki asked.
“Does Y/N hate me?” Heeseung asked, his voice dejected.
“Yes,” Riki said with no hesitation.
Heeseung immediately sat up and looked at Riki.
“Really? Do you know why? Was it something I did?” he asked desperately.
Riki glanced over at him, shaking his head and clicking his tongue in disappointment. He sat next to him on the bed, placing his hand on Heeseung’s knee as if he was about to drop the wisest advice on the planet.
“This is not about something you did, but about something you haven’t done,” Riki whispered.
Heeseung gave him a puzzled expression.
“What?”
“Listen,” Riki placed his hand on his shoulder.
Heeseung leaned forward anxiously.
“I planted the seed in her mind,” Riki tapped his own temple, “Now you just have to water it and watch it blossom.”
Heeseung stared at him with a blank expression. He had completely lost him.
“You’re making no sense,” he told him.
“I’m making perfect sense,” Riki said, extending his arms out with a shrug, “You’ll thank me later.”
-
Riki invited Y/N to one of his dancing competitions. He didn’t mention any details other than he was competing and he needed a ride back home, so she should at least watch him perform before chauffeuring him. Y/N thought about stranding him for being so annoying, but decided against it.
The place where the competition was taking place was a small venue. There was a small stage set up in front of a panel of judges and the rest of the audience. The first few performances were interesting, but after the fifteenth, Y/N was about to fall asleep. The only thing keeping her awake were the sounds of applause after every choreography.
She would have slept right through Riki’s performance if she hadn’t spotted a familiar figure in the group. She sat up straighter and squinted her eyes. It was Heeseung. She didn’t know they were performing as a group. She thought Riki was doing a solo performance.
She covered the bottom half of her face with her jacket. She was far enough away from the stage that the dancers wouldn’t be able to see her clearly, but she wanted to be safe. She watched as the group got into their starting formations. Her eyes stayed glued to Heeseung.
The music started, and she was immediately captivated by his movements. They were fluid and elegant, yet harsh and strong. He had amazing control of his body, and his expressions…Y/N was beginning to sweat in her seat. The song and choreography were quite suggestive, and his expressions matched perfectly. His eyes were sultry, and his lips were curled into a smirk, and his tongue. God, his tongue. He didn’t know how to put it away!
By the end of the performance, Y/N was fanning herself with her hand and glancing around her to see if anyone was noticing her embarrassing behavior. She was utterly shocked. How was that the same Heeseung that would always get flustered at her teasing? Where was he hiding that stage demon?
After all the performances finished, Y/N texted Riki where she would be waiting for him. She didn’t want to risk running into Heeseung and have him see her in the absolute mess-of-a-state she was in.
“Y/N!” she heard Riki call from behind her.
When she turned around, her heart dropped to her ass. Heeseung was walking with him, and she saw the evil grin on Riki’s face.
That little twerp. She thought.
“Did you like our performance?” Riki asked innocently.
Heeseung’s eyes widened. He had been under the impression that Y/N was only there to pick Riki up. He never told him she was going to watch them dance. His face instantly turned red with embarrassment.
“Your performance was amazing,” she said, her voice a little airy, “It was rigged. Your team should’ve won.”
“We may have lost, but there’s clearly a winner here,” Riki said.
Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. Riki stared at her straight in the eyes in complete silence for a moment longer than normal.
“Jake is giving me a ride home. Have fun,” he said with a smirk before sauntering off.
Y/N and Heeseung stared at him in disbelief. As soon as he was out of sight, they slowly turned to look back at each other. Heeseung’s cheeks darkened, and for once, Y/N’s did as well.
“Was that your first dance competition?” he asked softly.
“Yes. It was fun,” she replied, “I’d go again.”
Heeseung huffed out a small laugh. He covered his face with his hand to hide how flustered he was becoming.
“You’re, like, very different on stage,” she laughed anxiously.
“I am?”
“Yeah. I was surprised,” she said.
“Bad surprised? Or good?” he asked nervously.
“Good,” she said, finally gaining the courage to look him in the eyes, “It makes me want to see what other sides of you exist.”
“Oh,” he murmured, “I don’t have many…”
“That’s for me to find out,” she smiled at him.
He blinked at her. Her smile and proximity were making him go crazy. He was just so relieved she was talking to him again and not avoiding him.
“Do you need a ride?” she offered, pointing to the car, “My original client cancelled.”
Heeseung chuckled and nodded.
“Are you hungry? We can go grab something to eat,” she said.
“Sure,” he said softly.
“Sure? I don’t want to force you,” she gave him a lopsided grin.
“You’re not. I want to go,” he smiled sheepishly.
They decided on a sit-down pizza place that was near the venue. They were sitting at a booth tucked into the corner of the room. Heeseung was so nervous, he just chose the first thing he saw on the menu to order.
“How long have you been dancing?” she asked after they both placed their orders.
“Since I was little,” he said, taking a nervous sip from his water.
“I can tell. You’re extremely good,” she smiled.
“How long have you been playing volleyball?” he asked in return.
“Since high school. I’m not that great,” she laughed.
“How can you say that? You looked so cool when I went last time,” Heeseung professed.
“Just because I looked cool doesn't mean I’m good.”
“Well, I think you’re good,” he murmured.
“My number one fan,” she grinned, making him blush.
Their food arrived, and they ate in silence for a while. Heeseung offered her some of his personal pizza, and she offered him some of hers. He kept sneaking glances at her, finding her so cute.
“If you knew that in one year you would die, would you change anything about the way you are living now?” she asked abruptly.
Heeseung almost choked on his pizza. The question was sudden and it felt out of place for the context they were in, but he wasn’t closed off to answering it.
“Are you planning on killing me in a year?” he chuckled.
“No,” she smiled, “I’m just curious.”
He pursed his lips in thought.
“I think I’m pretty content with my life at the moment. I would like to do some travelling,” he looked at her.
She raised her eyebrows inquisitively.
“No confessing your undying love to someone?” she grinned playfully.
He blushed and shook his head.
“It would only make me depressed,” he said.
“Why? What if they say yes?”
Heeseung looked at her for a moment, the infinite possible scenarios of what could happen crossing his mind in an instant. He shook his head again.
“It would only devastate them once I die. It would be selfish. I don’t want to put them through that,” he said.
Y/N stared at him. She didn’t know what kind of answer she was expecting, but surely, it wasn’t that. She rested her chin in her hand.
“You’re very thoughtful,” she said.
“Was that not a normal answer?” he asked, making her chuckle.
“It’s normal. I just find it interesting. Well, more like, I find you interesting,” she smiled.
Heeseung was starting to feel the heat of her intense gaze. He wasn’t used to being the center of a girl’s attention like this.
“I want to know more about you,” she continued.
“What do you want to know?” he asked softly.
“Everything.”
They spent the next two hours just talking and asking each other questions. Some of the questions were deep and were trying to get a glimpse of the other’s mind while other questions were superficial and light-hearted. Anything that came to mind, they asked and the other answered without any hesitation.
Heeseung was getting to know her more than he’d ever known someone before. He was opening up about things he wouldn’t even talk to his closest friends about. There was something about Y/N’s energy and her eagerness to uncover his own psyche that made him feel vulnerable yet safe. She never criticised him for his answers. She would merely ask even more questions, digging deeper.
He loved figuring out what made her tick, and how certain experiences shaped the way she views life. By the time the waitress set the bill down on the table, it felt like they knew each other for years.
Y/N moved to grab the bill, but Heeseung snatched it before she could.
“I got it,” he said.
“But-”
“You drove. It’s the least I can do,” Heeseung smiled.
He pulled out his wallet. As he grabbed his card, something square and metallic fell out onto the table. Heeseung furrowed his eyebrows at it. It looked like a candy wrapper at first but then realization dawned onto him when he saw the circular indent within. His eyes widened, and he slammed his hand over the condom. Y/N’s cheeks were flushed red.
“I-I…that’s not mine,” he stammered, “I don’t know how that got there.”
“It’s normal. Nothing to be ashamed of,” she reassured.
“No, but it really isn’t mine,” Heeseung was almost pleading.
He dragged his hand across the table, bringing the condom with it. He picked it up and was about to shove it back into his wallet when he noticed handwriting on the back of it. He flipped it over, and the message was even more embarrassing than the condom itself.
First round is on me. -Riki
Heeseung closed his eyes and let out the longest sigh. His fingers came up to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. He was going to kill Riki the next time he saw him.
Y/N glanced down at what he had been looking at, and she groaned.
“Riki put that in there?” she asked.
Heeseung nodded. His face was still flushed with embarrassment.
“Where the fuck did he even get it in the first place?” she sighed.
“I don’t know, but I’m sorry. This probably made you so uncomfortable,” Heeseung said softly.
Y/N remained silent for a moment. After the initial embarrassment passed, the situation was amusing in a way. A low chuckle rumbled in her chest, making Heeseung glance up at her in confusion.
“It’s kind of funny actually,” she grinned.
Heeseung groaned, still not over the embarrassment.
“It’s okay,” she reassured, “You don’t seem like the type to carry condoms in your wallet anyway.”
“I don’t know if I should be relieved or offended,” Heeseung said.
Y/N bursted out laughing.
“As much as Riki wants to make you believe it, you’re not a loser, Heeseung,” she said, “at least not to me.”
“Oh,” he whispered, “Thank you.”
“You have a lot of charming qualities,” she continued.
“I do?” he asked in disbelief.
“Mhm,” she hummed.
“May I ask what they are?” His cheeks were beginning to blush again.
“Well, you’re very dedicated and driven. Your dancing is phenomenal. You’re multifaceted, and it makes me curious about you. I also like your soft-spokenness. It’s soothing and makes me feel safe,” she said.
“I make you feel safe?” Heeseung smiled.
“Yeah. Your voice is like a warm hug,” she smiled back.
He had to cover his face with his hands to hide how red he was getting. Her words were flattering and nice to hear. He never really had someone compliment him like that before.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
She smiled again, “Anytime.”
-
“Can you teach me how to dance?” Y/N asked Heeseung.
He had come to watch another one of her games, and he was walking her home again. This time he had brought her his hoodie and sweatpants for her to wear.
“What do you want to learn?” he smiled.
She dragged him along to a nearby park. They stood on a grassy patch that was decently illuminated. She made him drop her duffle bag and his backpack.
“Teach me the dance you did at the competition,” she said.
Heeseung looked at her with an amused smile.
“It’s pretty hard.”
“Then only teach me your favorite part,” she grinned.
He tried his best to teach her. He went slow and repeated the movements as many times as she asked, but whenever they tried to put it all together, she would struggle with moving her legs and arms at the same time. Heeseung watched her with a glint in his eyes and a smile on his lips. For an athlete, she had horrible coordination when it came to dancing. He thought it was adorable.
After she tripped over her own feet for what seemed like the twentieth time, she groaned and gave up. She caught Heeseung’s shoulders shaking from silent laughter, and she pouted.
“Show me something easier,” she huffed, “Can you ballroom dance?”
Heeseung’s smile never left his face as he walked closer.
“I don’t, but it doesn’t seem too hard,” he said.
He grabbed her hand, placing it on his shoulder. He placed his hand on her waist and grasped her other hand in his free hand. His heart was racing in his chest at their proximity. Her hand on his shoulder was light, but it felt like it was burning a hole through his shirt. The way she looked up at him with anticipation made him swallow nervously.
“Just follow my lead,” he whispered.
He stepped backwards carefully, allowing her to step towards him. He stepped to the side. She followed. He turned them around slightly to change the direction of their stepping. He felt her shoe step on his toes.
“Oh, god. Sorry,” she mumbled.
“It’s okay,” he smiled.
They continued their slow stepping and turning. Y/N had to apologize multiple times for stepping on him, and he had to keep telling her it was alright. They were getting the hang of it, and Heeseung couldn’t stop thinking about how romantic the scene was. There was no music, but the sounds of their soft giggling carried them along the grass.
“Do you want to try a twirl?” he asked softly.
She smiled at him and nodded.
He brought their clasped hands above her head, guiding her in a slow circle as she twirled. She was laughing the whole time. Her smile lit up her whole face, and the soft glow of the streetlights only made her look even more ethereal.
“Let’s go faster,” she laughed.
Heeseung swept her around the grass a little faster, but she wasn’t following the practiced steps anymore. She was skipping and hopping, a giant smile on her face. Her laughter was infectious. Heeseung’s cheeks were starting to hurt with how much he was smiling.
She asked for another twirl. She was giggling, and her hair spun out as she turned. As he was pulling her back towards him, her momentum caused her to stumble. He wrapped his arm around her waist to steady her, but it was too late. Her foot caught between his, and he lost his balance. He pulled her closer as they tumbled to the ground, cushioning her fall with his body. Y/N was still laughing, finding the whole situation amusing.
“Are you okay?” he asked worriedly.
“I should be asking you that,” she smiled.
“I’m okay,” he whispered.
Y/N’s laughter slowly died down, and she was left with the realization of what happened. Her body was on top of his, and their faces were close enough to feel each other’s breaths. She felt his hand at the small of her back for support, and when she looked up at him, his face was red.
Heeseung wanted to kiss her so badly, but he was a little uncertain. He was too scared he was reading it all wrong. He saw the way her eyes flickered down to his lips, and he froze. Her hair was hanging in loose curtains on the sides of her face, and with his other hand he tucked the strands behind her ear. His eyes also trailed down to her lips.
She hesitantly leaned towards him, and his heart began to race. He met her halfway, their lips barely touching in a gentle kiss. She pulled back to look at him with a smile. She laughed at his dazed expression before leaning in to kiss him more firmly. His hand pressed firmer on her back. He was in disbelief. Her lips were soft, and they were kissing him. It didn’t feel real. When she pulled back again, he blinked up at her. Surprise was written all over his face.
“Do you have a boyfriend?” he blurted out.
Y/N bursted out laughing.
“No, I don’t,” she said.
“Do you want one?” he asked breathlessly.
“Mm, it depends,” she hummed.
“Depends on what?” he asked. His eyes flickered up to meet hers.
“On who’s asking.”
“Me. I’m asking.”
She chuckled and leaned back in. His hand came up to cradle the back of her head as they shared another kiss. His heart was beating so fast, he thought she could feel it pressed against her chest.
“Yes,” she mumbled against his lips.
-
Riki was having a field day after he found out Y/N and Heeseung finally started dating. He thought he deserved to get special privileges for bringing them together. According to him, he did all the heavy lifting, and if it wasn’t for him, Y/N would have self-sabotaged and Heeseung would have dug his own grave since he was such a loser.
What are the special privileges? Ever since Heeseung started dating Y/N, he hardly spends time with Riki, so Riki found it fit to invite himself to any of their dates. He wasn’t a complete thorn in their side. He was generous and only chose dates that were low stakes like eating at Olive Garden.
“Mama and papa,” Riki joked as he sat in the booth across from them with a mouthful of pasta.
“Riki, shut the fuck up,” She groaned.
“That’s no way to talk to your child, ma’am,” Riki clicked his tongue.
“You’re my brother. Stop making this weird,” she said.
“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Riki grumbled.
“Maybe we need to get you a girlfriend, so you can leave us alone,” Heeseung said.
“Good luck with that,” Y/N laughed, “No one would want to put up with that.”
Riki scowled at her briefly before leaning back in the booth. He rested his palms on the back of his head, a look of nonchalance on his face.
“Coaches don’t play,” he shrugged.
“More like you get no play,” Heeseung snorted.
Riki gave him a side eye, his nostrils flaring.
“You’re one to talk,” Riki scoffed, “You got no play before Y/N.”
“Yes, I did,” Heeseung retorted.
“You did?” Y/N turned to look at Heeseung with her eyebrow raised.
A smirk grew on Riki’s lips. He sat back and watched the drama unfold.
“No! I mean, kind of?” Heeseung stammered.
“Enlighten me,” Y/N crossed her arms in front of her chest, “What kind of play did you get?”
“I dated this one girl for three months…” Heeseung trailed off.
“Ha! The one you pined over for three years, but then she dumped you?” Riki started wheezing.
Heeseung’s lips flattened into a straight line as he glared at Riki. Y/N’s lips quirked into a smile, and she stifled back a laugh. She rubbed Heeseung’s shoulder comfortingly.
“Aww. That’s kind of cute, baby,” she said, “You’re a yearner.”
“I hate you both,” Heeseung sulked.
Once they arrived back home, Riki sprinted to his room to do who knows what. Heeseung and Y/N remained in the living room, finally getting a moment alone. She sighed and sunk onto the couch dramatically.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” Heeseung asked, sitting next to her and wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her against him.
She leaned her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes.
“Give me a second of silence. Riki overstimulates the fuck out of me,” she whispered.
Heeseung chuckled and remained silent. His hand gently ran up and down her side, trying to soothe her. He watched her as she kept her eyes closed and her chest rose and fell slowly with each breath. He smiled and brought his other hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. His hand lingered behind her ear, slowly tracing her earlobe and jaw. She was so pretty and soft. Y/N’s eyes slowly fluttered open at the gentle touch. Her eyes were immediately met with Heeseung’s, and she noted how dilated his pupils were.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said.
“Like what?”
“Like you want to devour me.”
He looked up at her with a growing smirk on his lips, his eyebrows rising slightly.
“Is that what you think my staring means?” he leaned forward.
“Is it not?” she tilted her head playfully.
“I’m just admiring how beautiful you are,” he whispered, wrapping both of his arms around her waist, “Can’t I appreciate my gorgeous girlfriend without any lustful intent?”
He gazed into her eyes, and she could see the pure adoration in them. Her pulse quickened as blood rushed to her face. His eyes traced down her face slowly, taking in every feature before stopping at her lips. She licked them without thinking.
“You’re flipping the narrative, aren’t you?” she asked.
His eyes came back up to meet hers, and he tilted his head slightly.
“Don’t act coy,” she leaned forward, her breath fanning against his lips.
“If you want to devour me, just say that,” he murmured, closing the distance between them.
Y/N had no more fight in her. He was so entrancing. His gaze, his smirk, his lips…She did indeed want to devour him. The way his hand came up to caress her cheek as he deepened the kiss only made her want him even more. Her hands roamed up and down his sides, and she felt Heeseung’s kisses become more urgent. She pulled him closer until there was no space between them.
Suddenly, Heeseung broke the kiss, pulling back slightly. His hand was still cradling her cheek, his thumb gently tracing her skin. Both of their breathing was a little labored, and Heeseung’s eyes remained on her lips.
“Maybe not while Riki is still in the house,” he chuckled.
“We do need to get him a girlfriend,” she groaned.
-
A knock at Heeseung’s door startled him. He opened the door to find Y/N, a duffle bag over her shoulder. His eyes raked down her body wearing her volleyball uniform. She wasn’t wearing her signature braided ponytail, though. She wore her hair down.
“You had a game today?” he asked, bewildered.
Her games were always on Fridays, and today was a Saturday. He was a little hurt. She knew he loved watching her play.
“No game today,” she said, stepping through the door.
“Then why-”
She cut him off with a gentle kiss to his lips. Heeseung’s arms immediately wrapped around her waist, pulling her closer. Her lips trailed from the corner of his mouth down to his jaw. She could feel the movement of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed nervously.
“I know how much you like the uniform,” she murmured.
Suddenly, the pieces were falling together, and Heeseung understood why she was here. He could hear his heart pounding in his ears, and his hands trailed down to her hips.
Her lips connected with his again, but this time with newfound desire. He closed the front door and gently walked her up against a wall without breaking the kiss. She pressed herself flush against him, and he hummed against her lips.
“You always look so hot wearing it,” he whispered.
His mouth trailed down to her neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses along her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed at the sensation, and she brought her hand up to tangle her fingers into his hair.
“Especially after your matches when you’re covered in sweat,” he groaned softly.
He rested his hand on the small of her back, pulling her impossibly closer. He could feel every curve of her body against his, and he felt like he was about to fall apart. He continued to kiss and gently nip at her neck, feeling her pulse quicken under his lips.
“Let’s go to my room,” he whispered softly.
She hummed and allowed him to take her hand and lead her to his bedroom, locking the door behind him. His hands rested on her shoulders, slightly keeping her at arms length as his gaze trailed down her body. The jersey hugged her torso perfectly, and the spandex shorts seemed to have rode up her thighs from the walk from the front door to his room. He groaned, and his hands trailed down her sides to rest on her hips before pulling her into another kiss.
“I love your uniform, but…” Heeseung muttered against her lips.
“You want to take it off?” She teased.
“Mhm,” he hummed.
His hands slipped under her jersey, resting on her bare waist as his lips trailed down her neck. She brought her hands to rest on top of his, guiding them upward as if encouraging him to undress her. His fingers gripped the hem of her shirt and slowly pulled it over her head. She would normally be wearing a sports bra underneath, but this time, she wore a bra that Heeseung wasted no time in taking off.
Heeseung wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, trailing his lips down her collarbone and to the swell of her breasts. He could hear her breath start to hitch as his lips made their way even lower, gently wrapping around her hardened nipple.
“Heeseung-” she gasped at the warmth of his mouth.
He moaned as her back arched slightly against his mouth. With one hand, he played and pinched at one of her nipples, while he swirled his tongue and sucked on the other. He loved hearing the soft gasps and moans leaving her lips. Her fingers gently played with the hair at the back of his head, making his eyes flutter shut.
He switched his attention to her other nipple, trailing his hands down to her ass, pulling her flush against him. She could feel his growing erection press against her through his clothes.
She gripped at the hem of his shirt, and he pulled away just long enough for her to slip it over his head. Her hands trailed down his chest and sides, making his breath shudder against her nipple.
“Baby…” he murmured.
His fingers slipped under her shorts, peeling them off her legs. He gently walked her backwards until she sunk onto the bed. His gaze was filled with desire as she laid there in just her underwear. He brought his hands to rest just above her knees, steadily caressing up her thighs.
“God, I love your thighs,” he whispered, slowly climbing on top of her.
The tent in his sweatpants was glaringly obvious. Her hands at his hips stopped him in his tracks, and he bit his lip as he watched her gradually tug his sweatpants down his legs. He kicked them off, leaving them both just in their underpants.
He kissed her again, bringing his crotch to press against hers. They both moaned at the slight friction. His hands continued to knead her thighs, feeling the muscle under his grip.
“Please sit on my face,” he pleaded softly against her lips.
His hips bucked against hers involuntarily, making him hiss.
“Please,” he begged again.
She caressed the nape of his neck affectionately.
“Okay, baby,” she said.
He slid her panties off before rolling himself onto his back. He watched in anticipation as she crawled up his body until all he could see were her thighs and her glistening folds. The mere smell of her made his eyes roll to the back of his head. His hands gently grabbed her hips, pulling her down onto his mouth.
His lips kissed along her slit, and his warm breath fanned across her skin, making her shudder. His tongue was gentle at first, exploring and tasting her, but eventually he wanted more.
He had to beg her to put her whole weight on his head. It happened every time. She was too scared of hurting or suffocating him, and he had to remind her of the numerous times they’ve done it before and he’s survived. He loved the rush of pleasure of having her thighs wrapped around his head.
“I want it,” he said, muffled by her thighs, “You won’t hurt me.”
“Push me off if it gets to be too much, okay?” she said.
He hummed, his grip on her thighs tightening as she lowered herself completely onto him. He groaned and tried to pull her closer as if it wasn’t already enough. He buried the bridge of his nose on her clit, moving his head slightly from side to side as he pushed his tongue into her.
The sounds that would leave her lips were music to his ears. His hands trailed up her thighs and rested on her ass, almost as if encouraging her to ride his face. Her hand was fisted into his hair as she slowly rocked her hips against his mouth. He moaned, and his hips bucked into the air.
She leaned back slightly and slipped her other hand into his boxers, wrapping it around his hard length. She felt him pause between her legs briefly, his breath panting against her clit as she stroked him slowly. He whimpered softly, his dick was leaking profusely into her hand. His moans and whimpers vibrated against her core, making her throw her head back in pleasure.
He grabbed her wrist, pulling her hand off of him. He wanted to focus on her or else he would finish. He dived back into her. She was warm against his mouth and tongue, and it made his head spin. God, she was so beautiful. He never wanted it to end.
When he felt her legs starting to tremble, he knew she was close. He grabbed her thighs for support as she rocked her hips against his mouth. His eyes were closed, enjoying the feeling of her falling apart above him. Her orgasm made her legs like jelly, and he had to lift her by the thighs to get her back to her knees.
She loved seeing his fucked out face afterwards. He looked like he'd just seen heaven, his eyelids hooded, his mouth slightly parted and panting, his face glistening. He left sloppy kisses down her thighs, making them shake. He gripped them slightly.
“Sit on me again, baby,” he whispered almost pleadingly.
“You’re so greedy,” she said, combing his messy hair to the side.
He smirked lazily, caressing her legs affectionately.
“I just can’t get enough of you,” he whispered, placing more kisses on her inner thighs.
Although she was still sensitive, his lips trailed back to her core and she whimpered softly. This only drove him wild. His grip on her thighs tightened, and he buried his nose against her. His own hips were bucking against nothing.
“Baby, please…” he murmured against her core, making her shiver.
She crawled off his face, eliciting a low grumble of disappointment from him. She straddled his waist, bending forward to kiss him. His arms immediately wrapped around her, pulling her closer as he deepened the kiss. She could taste herself on his mouth as she traced her tongue along his bottom lip. He parted his lips, eager to feel her tongue in his mouth.
She trailed open mouthed kisses down his jaw and neck. She loved his Adam’s apple. She loved the way it moved as he swallowed. She took her time with him, covering him in kisses and small love bites. He loved the attention. Her lips felt like fire against his skin, and he loved it.
Once she got to his chest, it was when he started begging again. She was excruciatingly sweet yet slow with it. His hands rested on her waist, gently squeezing as his hips bucked up.
“Baby…” he mumbled.
“Hm?” She hummed against his sternum.
“Fuck,” he whispered, “I need you.”
“I know you do, baby,” she whispered back, tracing her tongue along his chest.
“Please,” he begged. He couldn’t take any more of this teasing. He loved it, but his dick was aching for her.
He sighed in relief as her lips left his chest and she sat on her knees. His head fell back onto the pillow with a moan as she rubbed her wet folds along his length that had been pressed against his stomach. Beads of precum spilt out of his tip.
She lifted her hips up slightly, guiding his length to her entrance with her hand. Heeseung swallowed with anticipation, his eyes fixed onto his tip as it disappeared inside of her.
“Fuck,” he moaned, his head thrown back onto the pillow again.
She slowly sunk down onto him, watching his face contort with pleasure at her warmth wrapped around him. His hands were once again on her thighs, stroking them affectionately. His hips slowly thrusted upwards, not being able to hold back any longer.
“Baby, can we switch?” His voice was hoarse with need. “I want your legs around me.”
She looked at him with a slightly amused expression but nodded. He wasted no time in rolling them over. She wrapped her legs around his waist, allowing him to sink in deeper. His thrusts started off slow, his hips rolling in deeply and making her toes curl with pleasure. He loved this position because he was able to see her beautiful face as he made love to her. Every expression and every sound he committed to memory.
The way her legs tightened around his waist pulled him in deeper and made him slightly lose control. His hips moved faster and her mouth fell open in pants. He was mesmerized. He leaned forward, pressing his lips to hers, swallowing any and all sounds that left her mouth.
Her hands trailed down his back and spine, and that simple touch made his hips stutter a little faster. His lips trailed down to her neck.
“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he panted against her earlobe. He felt her walls pulse around him, causing him to moan.
One of his hands trailed one of her thighs that’s wrapped around his waist, kneading it.
“You make me crazy, you know that right?” He whispered.
His thrusts became slightly erratic. He was a moaning and whimpering mess. He was getting lost in the feeling of her tightening around him. He couldn’t think straight. She felt way too good. His whispered praises and deep thrusts brought butterflies to her stomach. She felt her abdomen muscles tighten, her orgasm building.
“Heeseung…” she moaned.
That’s all it took for him to groan and bury himself deep inside her. His length pulsed, but he forced himself to continue thrusting. He was whimpering with sensitivity, but he was not finished yet.
“Keep saying my name, baby,” he pleaded.
His eyes met hers. His pupils were blown wide as he tried to take in every single detail of her pretty face pleading for release.
“Heeseung…” she groaned.
His hips moved faster again despite the sensitivity threatening tears to prickle at the corners of his eyes.
“Heeseung…” she moaned, her hands gripping his sides for stability as his pace continued.
“Fuck,” he cursed, leaning forward to devour her lips once more.
She moaned as he sucked on her tongue, his thrusts making her eyes roll back. Her walls tightened around him like a vice as she crashed through her orgasm. Heeseung choked at the feeling of her grip, his hips thrusting deeply into her as he came for a second time in such a short period. It hurt, but in a good way.
He felt her walls twitching around him, milking him further. He thrusted lazily, making them both shake with sensitivity. He finally slowed to a stop as her legs unwrapped themselves from his waist.
He gently slipped out of her, his length already softening. He laid down next to her, immediately wrapping his arms around her and pulling her flush against him. She nuzzled her face against his chest, and she began tracing patterns on his back. He loved this part too. He loved feeling her body pressed against his, loved caressing her soft skin as their breathing slowly came back to normal.
“My beautiful baby,” he whispered against her hair, his hands softly trailing down her shoulders and sides. “Are you hungry? Do you want me to make you something?”
She shook her head against his chest, content being with him in the moment. His body was warm and his words were comforting.
“Let’s stay like this a little longer,” she whispered.
“Okay,” he smiled.
They stay wrapped in each other’s embrace for a while. He placed soft kisses at the top of her head, making her heart flutter and swell. His hands ran up and down her back gently.
“I feel very cherished,” she giggled softly.
“Because you are,” he said, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “You’re precious to me.”
She hummed and buried her face into the crook of his neck.
“Don’t say that,” she whispered hoarsely.
“Why not?” He murmured.
“It makes me want to rip you apart,” she muttered.
“I wouldn’t mind,” he said, fighting back a grin. The blood was already flooding back to his length, and her breath against his neck made him shiver.
She pulled back from his neck to look up at him. Her eyes were sincere.
“You’re precious to me too, Heeseung,” she whispered, gently pressing her lips to his in a sweet kiss.
He groaned, his length already hard and pressing against her stomach.
“You’re gonna be the death of me,” he mumbled as she straddled his lap.
I've Loved You For Almost As Long As I've Been Alive ──★ ˙
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
꒰ ﹒ pairing: sunghoon x fem!reader … ﹒ childhood friends to lovers au, loser! sunghoon and loser!reader, he falls first and harder, fluff﹒ w/c: 10k~ summary: you and sunghoon are attached at the hip after you beat up a kid in primary school for him. he's just very sweet and in love with you. he has eyes for nobody but you.
꒰ ﹒ warnings: does contain smut at the end so NSFW (18+), fingering, praising, very nervous and gentle sunghoon, bear hug method iykyk
꒰ ﹒ note: i am always down for the loser! sunghoon agenda please enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it!
── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──
In primary school, Sunghoon is the only kid in class with extremely thick glasses. It doesn’t help that he’s shy, so the kids tend to pick on him a little. Their favorite thing to call him is Bug Eyes. He doesn’t say much to defend himself. He just remains quiet and plays on his own most of the time. Y/N, on the other hand, is talkative and friendly. She considers herself friends with everyone in her class, including Sunghoon, even though he isn’t much of a talker.
During recess, she notices how Sunghoon remains by himself, playing on the swings alone. She always invites him to play tag with the rest of the kids, but he shakes his head.
One day, instead of playing tag with everyone else, Y/N sits on the swing next to Sunghoon. They swing in silence for a few minutes until she turns to him.
“Do you want to see something cool?” She asks him.
He looks over at her skeptically, but once he sees her big smile, he reluctantly nods. She cheers before getting up from her swing and grabbing his hand, pulling him to a rocky patch at the edge of the park. Sunghoon watches curiously as she starts flipping over the rocks and moving rotting leaves with a stick.
“Aha!” she exclaims, moving the leaves with her hands. “Look!”
He peeks over her shoulder to see a metallic green beetle scuttling along the dirt. He cringes away immediately with a small shriek. She looks up at him and giggles.
“Isn’t it cute?” she asks, picking up the beetle with her fingers.
“D-don’t touch it,” he stammers.
“Why not? My dad said they’re harmless,” she says, holding out the beetle towards him.
Sunghoon takes multiple steps back. He’s scared of the bug, but he’s also wondering if she’s doing all of this as a way to make fun of him. He’s “Bug Eyes” after all. She notices his discomfort and puts the beetle back underneath the leaves.
“You don’t like bugs?”
He shakes his head.
“Oh, sorry,” she says, walking over to him. “I love bugs.”
He stares at her as if she’s lost her mind.
“I think they’re cute,” she says, “You don’t like any bugs?”
He shakes his head.
“Not even butterflies?”
He shakes his head again.
“What do you like then?”
“I like fish…” he says softly.
“Fish are cool. Do you have a favorite?” she asks.
Sunghoon nods and starts to quietly tell her about his favorite fish. It’s the first time Y/N has ever gotten him to talk to her for more than three sentences, and she’s excited. She keeps asking him about different fish, if he likes fishing, if he has any pet fish, and so on. Sunghoon slowly opens up and happily answers her questions.
“What’s your favorite bug?” he asks shyly.
This triggers a long spiel from Y/N about different types of bugs she likes. By this point, they’re back on the swings, and Sunghoon is gently swinging his feet and listening to her quietly with a bashful smile on his lips.
One day during P.E., when they’re both age 7, groups needed to be formed to play a game of dodgeball. As students were being picked one by one, Sunghoon stood there awkwardly knowing the teams would fight to NOT get him on their team.
“Bug Eyes is so uncoordinated.”
“Yeah, he’ll make us lose.”
“Hey, stop that!” Y/N storms over to the two boys that were making fun of Sunghoon.
Sunghoon stands quietly with his head slightly downcast. She has her hands on her hips and a frown on her face.
“What? It’s true,” one of the boys says.
“Say you’re sorry,” she huffs.
“Or what?” the other boy challenges.
Sunghoon watches with horror as she picks up a dodgeball and hurls it at the boy’s face. The sound the ball makes as it slaps the boy’s cheek echoes through the gymnasium, making everyone fall silent and look over in their direction. The boy that got hit starts crying while his friend looks back at Y/N with fire in his eyes.
“Bug Girl is defending Bug Eyes. How fitting,” he snarls.
He picks up a dodgeball, rolling it in his hand.
“It’s a perfect match,” he says just before he hurls the ball at her.
She tenses and closes her eyes, waiting for the ball to hit her. She hears another slap of the ball against skin, but she doesn’t feel anything hit her. When she opens her eyes, she finds Sunghoon on the floor in front of her with his glasses broken and scattered on the ground.
“Oh my god. Are you okay?” she crouches down to look at Sunghoon. His face is red from where the ball hit him. He nods ever so slightly, his hand trembling as he cradles his face.
Y/N’s head snaps up to glare at the other boy. Before anyone could stop her, she hurls herself at him, knocking him down to the floor with a thud. She starts yanking at his hair as he begins to scream.
The fight is over quickly, the teacher pulling Y/N off the boy and sending them all to the principal’s office. She gets suspended from school for a week, and when she comes back she’s shunned by most of the kids in her class.
She’s swinging alone during recess when a timid Sunghoon comes up to her. His glasses are taped back together and his hands are clasped together in front of him.
“Do you want to see something cool?” he asks softly.
She nods, her eyes flickering down to his hands. He unclasps them to reveal a spotted black and white beetle. Her eyes sparkle with excitement.
“Oh my god. An ironclad beetle!” she exclaims.
As she gets closer, she notices his hands slightly shaking. She immediately takes the beetle from his hands and watches as he brings his arms back to his sides and wipes his hands on his pants.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers.
“For what?” She asks as she watches the beetle crawl between her fingers.
“For making everyone hate you.”
“It’s okay. You’re cooler than all of them combined,” she smiles.
Sunghoon looks down at his shoes, a pink blush painting his cheeks.
From then on, they are practically inseparable.
His favorite thing to do with her is explore the pocket of woods behind his house. It’s the perfect place to play pretend. Some days they’re wizards making potions with dirt and leaves, other days they’re pirates looking for treasure. Sunghoon particularly likes digging in the creek to see what he can find. Y/N likes pretty rocks which leads to him compiling different rocks and bringing them to her to inspect.
One day, when they’re both age 8, he’s ankles deep in the creek while Y/N is climbing a nearby tree. He’s using a net to sift through the debris in the water when he finds a rock with many tiny ridges. When he looks closely at it, it looks like some sort of bug. His face immediately lights up.
“Y/N!” he exclaims, stumbling through the muddy creek bed to get ashore.
She’s halfway up the tree when she stops and looks down at him. He excitedly waits at the base of the tree trunk and holds up the rock for her to see.
“I think I found a fossil,” he says.
“No way!” She beams and climbs down as quickly as she can.
Sunghoon watches with a smile on his face as her eyes light up at the small fossil. Her finger traces over the ridges.
“It looks like a trilobite,” she says.
Sunghoon stares at her.
“Ancient pill bug,” she clarifies.
“Ohhh,” he nods. “Do you like it?”
“I love it,” she smiles. “You’re always finding all the cool stuff.”
“I can show you where I found it. Maybe we can find some more,” he says, grabbing her arm gently and pulling her towards the water.
They search for another hour, but they don’t find any more fossils. When Sunghoon is crouched down sifting through the rocks, Y/N comes up behind him and pushes him forward. Since the water isn’t too deep, only half of his body gets wet. He looks up at her in disbelief, and she’s laughing.
“Maybe if I bury you, you’ll turn into a fossil,” she says, grabbing a handful of mud and throwing it at his chest.
“Hey—” he’s cut off by another handful of mud hitting his shoulder.
He stops talking and starts grabbing handfuls of mud and throwing them back at her, making her squeal and run away. They chase each other until they’re both covered in mud from head to toe, leaves and twigs stuck to their bodies from rolling around on the ground. They’re giggling messes.
There’s something about the way the leaves cling to her hair that make him stop in his tracks. The way her smile shines brighter with mud all over her face, and her little giggles as she bends down to grab more mud. Something stirs within him, but he doesn’t know what that feeling is exactly. He just can’t stop staring.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” Y/N asks teasingly.
“Um…mud.”
“Yes, I know, stupid,” she laughs.
He’s glad that the mud on his face covers his blushing cheeks.
Y/N doesn’t realize she has feelings for Sunghoon until she’s 11 and he starts wearing contact lenses. Suddenly girls are talking about how cute he is and that they didn’t know he was so good looking without his glasses on. It starts to irritate Y/N overhearing the girls in her classes whisper and talk about him.
“Why’d you stop wearing your glasses?” She asks him. “You look better with glasses.”
Sunghoon frowns. “Are you saying I’m ugly?”
“No!” She immediately interjects. “I just think you should go back to wearing your glasses.”
“Why?”
She groans and paces around for a moment. She’s frustrated she can’t put her thoughts into words. She can’t put her thoughts in order at all. Sunghoon watches her grow even more restless.
“If it bothers you that much, I’ll start wearing my glasses again,” he says quietly.
“No. It’s okay,” she sighs, defeated. “It’s not the glasses that’s bothering me.”
Sunghoon’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “What’s bothering you then?”
Suddenly, Y/N gets shy, which hardly ever happens. Sunghoon’s eyes widen as he catches the tips of her ears turning pink along with the apples of her cheeks. His heart flutters at the sight.
“It’s just,” she pauses, collecting her thoughts. “It’s making me mad how people are suddenly interested in you just because you got rid of your glasses.”
He stares at her with a stunned expression on his face, which makes her keep going.
“You’ve always been an amazing person, and I’ve been with you since the beginning. All these other people don’t deserve you,” she grumbles.
Sunghoon’s heart is about to leap out of his chest at her words. He looks away bashfully, trying to hide the small smile on his lips.
“Don’t worry,” he says softly, “you’re the only person I want to be close with.”
Their eyes meet momentarily, both of their faces red with blush. She looks away, not being able to maintain eye contact with him. He smiles and looks down at his hands.
The next day he wears his glasses again.
One day, when they’re 13, Sunghoon’s family goes on their yearly weekend trip to a cabin, and he begs his parents to let Y/N come this time. During the trip, Sunghoon teaches Y/N how to fish.
“Ugh, I’m boredddd,” she groans.
They’re standing at the edge of the pier with their fishing lines cast out into the lake. They’ve been waiting for a total of 30 minutes so far.
“Fishing is all about patience,” he tells her.
“What if I went into the water and tried catching one with my hands?” She asks.
“You’ll scare the fish away,” Sunghoon clicks his tongue.
“But what if I stayed still and waited for the fish to jump and come to me. Like how the grizzlies do it.”
“They can only do that because the fish are swimming upstream. We’re at a lake,” Sunghoon points out.
She groans again. Her next complaint is cut short when something starts pulling at her fishing line. She practically screams.
“Sunghoon, what do I do?” She frantically grabs the fishing pole.
He chuckles and grabs her hand, placing it on the reel handle. He moves her hand clockwise, causing the fishing line to pull towards them.
A fish about the size of Y/N’s foot splashes up out of the water, dangling from the end of the hook. Sunghoon grabs the fish and holds it out for her to see. It wiggles in his grasp.
“Oh my god. It’s kind of cute,” she says. “Can I hold it?”
He places the fish in her hands, showing her how to hold it without dropping it. He grabs a bucket and fills it with some of the lake water.
“You can put it in there. We can eat it for dinner,” he says.
Y/N freezes. “Eat?”
Sunghoon looks up at her, slightly confused. What else were you supposed to do with a fish you just caught? He sees the tears welling up in her eyes and he immediately starts backtracking.
“Or you can release it back into the water,” he says.
She sniffles and nods. He watches as she bends down at the edge of the pier and lets the fish wiggle out of her grasp and slide back into the water.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“It’s okay. We can eat something else,” he reassures her.
“I was talking to the fish,” she says.
Sunghoon chuckles softly and walks up to her crouched figure.
“Maybe fishing isn’t for you,” he starts, “did you want to go look for some cool bugs in the woods?”
She shakes her head. “You don’t like bugs.”
“That doesn’t mean I won't help you.”
“But I want to do something we both enjoy,” she murmurs.
He smiles and squats down next to her. She glances over at him with tearful eyes.
“There’s a waterfall not too far down the trail into the woods. Do you want to go see it together?” He asks softly.
She sniffles and nods again. “That sounds fun.”
“Okay. Let’s go,” he says, standing up straight and holding out his hand for her to take.
They often have sleepovers at each other’s houses on the weekends, but this particular sleepover when they’re 14 is different. They’re watching a movie in Sunghoon’s room like normal until Y/N turns to look at him.
“Have you ever kissed anyone, Sunghoon?” she asks abruptly after seeing the two main characters in the movie share a kiss.
Sunghoon practically chokes on the popcorn he’s eating.
“W-why are you asking?” he coughs, trying to avoid eye contact.
Y/N sighs and leans back on the headboard of his bed.
“I keep hearing every girl in class talking about the boys they’ve been kissing. I’m just curious.”
He remains quiet for a second, not knowing where this is going.
“No. I haven’t,” he finally says.
“Thank god,” she sighs in relief.
Sunghoon’s heart leaps in his chest, and suddenly all he’s thinking about is what it would be like to kiss her. His eyes flicker to her face for a brief moment, his face turning red. He quickly looks away.
“W-what?” he stammers.
She turns to look at him. She immediately notices how shy he’s gotten.
“I’m not the only loser that hasn’t kissed anyone yet,” she says.
Sunghoon’s mouth falls open, and his head snaps over to look at her in disbelief. She smiles at him, making his face turn even redder. He frowns slightly, but his eyes flicker down to her curved lips.
“Why does that make us losers?” he mumbles.
“It doesn’t,” she says, “I just feel like I’m missing out.”
Sunghoon furrows his eyebrows together. He didn’t understand the need to fit in with what most of the other kids at school were doing. He thought their idea of fun was boring.
“So you want to kiss whoever just to say you’ve kissed someone?” he asks, his tone of voice growing slightly irritated.
She shakes her head.
“No, I want to kiss someone I’m comfortable with.”
Their eyes meet for a second, and Sunghoon’s throat dries up. He looks away again.
“You’re the only person I’m comfortable enough with,” she starts, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I can always wait for someone else to—“
“NO!” he practically screams. His cheeks turn pink when he startles her with his objection. “I-I mean…I can help you…i-if you want.”
“Really?” She smiles.
His eyes flicker to her mouth again, and he nods.
“Are you sure?” She asks again. She scoots closer to him, making his heart race.
He nods again.
She leans forward slightly, her eyes glancing down at his lips. They’re slightly parted, his chest rising and falling in short breaths. He stays completely still, letting her get closer and closer until there's no space between them anymore. He freezes when he feels her lips press against his. He closes his eyes and stops breathing for a second. The kiss is over before he can fully register what happened.
He blinks at her, his emotions tangling in knots inside him. He’s absolutely terrified. How does this change their relationship? Does she like him too?
“Um…” he starts.
She’s watching the TV again, rewinding the movie to the part where the main leads are kissing again.
“Do you want to try that?” She asks.
Sunghoon glances over at the screen, watching as the characters move their lips against each other’s. He swears he saw a tongue peek through.
His face is flushed when she turns to look at him. She watches him, waiting for his reply.
“I’m sorry. I’m making you uncomfortable,” she says after he’s taking a little too long to give her an answer. “That stuff should be reserved for someone you like.”
Sunghoon’s heart sinks to his stomach. She’s getting the wrong idea from his stunned silence, but it’s already too late. She turns back to watch the movie, skipping the makeout scene.
For the next few weeks, Sunghoon tries multiple times to bring up the topic of kissing again, but he gets too flustered. He’s losing sleep because of it. He keeps replaying what happened in his head and groans at how he handled it.
Things between them hadn’t necessarily changed since they kissed or at least it didn’t seem like it from the outside. On the inside, both of them were dealing with some very conflicting and heavy emotions.
Sunghoon was under the impression that Y/N didn’t like him in a romantic way because she mentioned kissing as something to mark off a bucket list, not something she wanted to do with him because she had feelings for him. Y/N, on the other hand, was under the impression that Sunghoon didn’t like her in a romantic way because he refused to keep kissing, and that he only agreed to kiss her in the first place to help her as his friend.
So what do they do? They act like it never happened, but it doesn’t stop their feelings for each other from consuming every fiber of their being.
Then they hit puberty. Their physical and emotional changes alter their dynamic significantly.
Sunghoon grows taller and his voice grows deeper. He stops wearing his glasses again, causing girls at school to chase after him. Y/N also grows taller, but not by much. Her body is changing and Sunghoon is definitely noticing, especially after one summer at the pool where he almost drowned after seeing her wear a bikini for the first time.
Sunghoon is very attractive…just extremely beautiful. It has Y/N fighting for her life. She has to endure all these girls at school confessing to him and fawning over him. When a particularly pretty and popular girl shows interest in Sunghoon, it has Y/N losing her mind. She’s scared that eventually Sunghoon will date and forget about their friendship. She’s jealous. She wants him all to herself.
She’s jealous for no reason, though, because Sunghoon does not give any girl the time of day. He’s polite, but he always declines their confessions or attempts to ask him out. Most of the time, he sees right through these girls’ intentions. They find him attractive, but they don’t like him for who he is. They compliment his looks and make assumptions about what he’s like, and when they ask him about himself and they find out he likes fishing and playing chess, they look at him with a blank stare.
Meanwhile, Y/N gets no play. It’s not because she isn’t pretty. She just gives no attention to any guys. She has a habit of scowling at any man that looks her way. They just don’t compare to Sunghoon. He’s all she ever needs in a man, even if it’s just as friends.
Sunghoon grows a little too comfortable in the fact that Y/N doesn’t have any secret admirers, so when she starts ranting to him about a supposed stalker in her economics class, he has to remain calm. She describes how this guy is always staring at her, smiling at her, trying to talk to her. He comes up to her desk and asks why she’s always so quiet and what her hobbies are. Somehow this guy finds out that she likes bugs and tries to start a conversation with her about it.
“He’s just so creepy, Sunghoon,” she groans. “Whenever I walk into class, he’s already staring at me.”
Sunghoon is clenching his fists at the mere thought of this random guy clearly having a crush on her. He wishes he had the class with her so he could glare at him, but all he can say is, “Yeah, he seems weird. You should ignore him.”
He teases her a lot more too. Maybe it’s puberty or maybe his feelings are just harder to contain, but looking at her pretty face makes him get cuteness aggression. He loves getting a reaction out of her.
He loves to randomly come up to her and play fight with her. He throws playful punches at her arms and dodges her failed attempts to hit him back. He sometimes lets her hit him, but it just ends up with him tackling her playfully onto the couch or bed.
“What happened to my sweet Sunghoon?” Y/N whines. “Now I just have a bully.”
He smiles at her fondly, “You’re just fun to mess with.”
“It’s only fun for you. I’m out here getting assaulted,” she continues pouting.
His smile grows wider, and he extends his arms out in playful surrender. “Okay. Hit me then.”
She glances over at him quizzically. When she sees he’s being serious, her expression changes into something mischievous. Before Sunghoon could backtrack, she pulls his sweatpants down leaving him in his boxers.
“What the—“
As he’s bending down and picking up his pants, she jumps on his back and puts him in a chokehold.
“Y/N—“
“This is what you get,” she says playfully.
He starts laughing and takes a few steps back until the back of his knees hit the edge of his bed. He purposefully falls backwards, landing on top of her. Her arms slacken around his neck, allowing him to pull free and spin around to face her. He pins her arms down and smiles triumphantly. When he looks down at her, her cheeks are painted pink and her eyes are fixed somewhere to the side. That’s when he realizes the position they’re in and blushes.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, getting off of her and sitting down on the bed.
“It’s okay,” she says, sitting up. “Sorry for pulling your pants down.”
“It’s okay. It was funny,” he replies.
They sit in silence for a moment.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” He asks, getting up to turn on the TV.
Girls eventually leave Sunghoon alone when it’s clear he only ever has eyes for Y/N. No one knows how they are able to stay just friends with the amount of tension between them. All of their classmates can see it except for Sunghoon and Y/N. God forbid they ever have a class together because they will be giggling and whispering in the back of the room the whole time. They always disappear during lunch hour to sneak onto the track field and lay in the grass. They walk home together after school every day, always going to each other’s places to hang out.
You would think they’d get bored of each other eventually, but they’re always finding things to do together. They also love to do their own separate things in the same vicinity. Y/N would be working on her latest crafting project on her desk while Sunghoon is on her bed playing with a deck of cards trying to learn magic tricks. When Sunghoon wants to go fishing, Y/N will sit on a floaty and read. They’re comfortable with silence as long as they’re together.
“Would you rather fight ten, kid sized Y/Ns at the same time or one, 10 foot tall, buff, Y/N?” Y/N asks Sunghoon as they’re sitting in her bed with face masks on during a sleepover.
“Oh god. They both sound terrifying,” he says with horror.
She hits his shoulder playfully, making him giggle.
“Mm…” he thinks about it a little too seriously. “You were very feisty as a kid, so having to fight ten of you at the same time…I think I’ll take my chances with the buff Y/N. I feel if someone is that tall and buff, they will be slow. I just have to dodge.”
Y/N rolls her eyes. “I wasn’t that bad.”
“You got suspended for fighting that kid remember? You definitely gave off ankle biter—OW!”
Y/N starts to yank at his hair, stopping him mid-insult. He grabs onto her wrist to try and get her fingers out of his hair.
“Okay! Okay! I’m sorry.”
She releases his hair, and he glares at her.
“Now I’m questioning my decision. I’m scared what a buff Y/N would do in comparison to that,” he says, rubbing his scalp.
She grins at him. He stares at her for a second, a smile growing on his lips too.
Sunghoon and Y/N make the decision to attend the same university because they can’t bear the thought of being apart for 4 years. They decide to move in together, so they don’t have to deal with the school’s prison-like dorms. Off-campus student housing isn’t the best, but they make it work.
Sunghoon is still scared of bugs, so Y/N always has to catch all the spiders and moths that make their way into their apartment and release them outside or else he will be yelling and throwing things.
One time, as Sunghoon is about to go to sleep, he sees a cricket crawling on his pillow and he absolutely freaks out. He has to wake Y/N up to come catch and release it.
“Can I sleep in your bed tonight?” he asks her.
“It was a cricket, not a cockroach, Sunghoon,” she groans, half asleep.
“But it touched my sheets, and I don’t want to stay awake for two more hours to wash them,” he whines slightly.
She keeps mumbling in her sleepy state and doesn’t protest any further as he follows her into her room and climbs into bed with her.
Sunghoon gets strangely more clingy once they start living together. He’s always tagging along when she goes to run errands. She needs to return a library book? He’s trailing behind her with his backpack saying he’s going to the library to study anyway. She’s going out to get a sweet drink? He’s tagging along claiming he’s never been to that coffee shop before and that he’s been wanting to try it out. Y/N doesn’t mind, though. His presence always makes things more comforting.
They’re busier due to the amount of workload some of their classes have, so he’s constantly wanting her attention. Sometimes a simple, “do you want to go eat?” will do the trick, but sometimes he has to resort to more drastic measures for her attention.
He starts off by sighing loudly. If that doesn’t work, he starts poking her repeatedly on the shoulder or sides. If all else fails, he will hug her waist and push her onto the couch.
“Why do you hate me?” He grumbles.
“Who said I hate you?” She laughs, wrapping her arms around his shoulders.
“You don’t want to go out to eat and you’re ignoring me. Just say you hate me,” he says.
She playfully pulls at his ear. “Ok, babygirl, sorry for not giving you my undivided attention.”
The tips of his ears turn red and he buries his face in her shoulder. She pats the back of his head.
“Let’s go eat,” she says.
“No. I don’t wanna eat anymore,” he mumbles. “I’m comfortable here.”
He definitely lets her get away with more things now too. She just has to bat her eyelashes and he will willingly be dragged around to do absolutely anything. He hates how she’s able to figure it out too. It’s like she knows the effect she has on him.
“Sunghoonnnn,” she calls sweetly.
Oh no.
“Can you do my laundry? Pleaseeee,” she clings to his arm.
“I don’t want to do your stinky laundry,” he groans, trying to pull away and not look at her face before he folds.
“C’monnnn, don’t you love me? I wash your dishes when you leave them in the sink because I love you,” she says, placing her cheek against his arm.
Oh, he’s a goner. His cheeks are bright red.
“Fine, fine,” he grumbles.
One night, Sunghoon gets a call from Y/N at around one in the morning.
“Sunghoon…” he hears her slurred mumbling from the other side of the phone, and he instantly knows she’s drunk. He can hear the loud music in the background.
“I thought you said you were going to a friendly get together?” he sighs into the phone.
“I know…I lied,” she mumbles, “I’m sorryyyy. I didn’t want you to get worried.”
“Are you okay?” he asks.
“Mhm,” she hums, “Can you pick me up?”
“I’ll be there in a bit,” he tells her after getting her location.
He finds her immediately. She’s outside the club, digging through the bushes.
“Y/N, what are you doing?” Sunghoon asks, the worriedness he had dissipating at the sight of her. He chuckles slightly when her head pops up from the bushes, leaves stuck to her hair.
“Sunghoonnn,” she whines, stumbling out of the bush towards him.
He grabs her by the arms, making sure she doesn’t topple over.
“I thought I heard a katydid. I can’t find it,” she frowns.
“You probably scared it away,” he says, picking the leaves from her hair.
She pouts, ducking her head to let him run his fingers through her hair to flatten out the knots caused by the bush’s branches. “But I tried to be super stealthy.”
“I know, Y/N. I know,” he says softly.
He wraps his arm around her shoulder for stability as he starts to walk her back home. She leans her whole bodyweight against his side. She’s mumbling incoherently and dragging her feet sluggishly. By the time they make it through their front door, he’s practically carrying her inside. She clings to him like her life depends on it.
“Sunghoonnn, you smell so nice,” she mumbles. Her eyes are closed as he drags her to her room and makes her sit down on the bed.
“It’s the cologne you got me for my birthday last year,” he says as he bends down to take her shoes off.
“Mmm,” she hums, “I have great taste.”
She sways slightly even though her eyes are closed. Sunghoon goes into their shared bathroom and grabs her makeup removing wipes. She tries moving her head away from his touch as he begins to wipe her face with the towelette.
“Nooo,” she whines, “I worked so hard on this makeup look.”
“I know, Y/N. It’s very pretty, but you can’t go to sleep with it on,” he says, gently grabbing her chin to hold her still as he continues to wipe it off.
“Why not?”
“You’ll get your pillow dirty.”
She groans but complies. She stops resisting and lets him finish. When he tries to get her to stand up and go wash her face in the bathroom, she whines again and flops backwards into her bed. Sunghoon sighs and gives up. He walks over to her dresser and pulls out a pair of pajamas, throwing them at her.
“Change at least,” he says.
Instead, she pulls up her covers and hides under them.
“Y/N, stop being difficult,” he sighs, ripping the covers off her completely.
“Why can’t you change me?” she whines.
“You know I can’t do that,” he says.
“Why not?”
“You need to change yourself.”
“But what if I want you to change me?”
“I’m not going to do that.”
“Then I’m sleeping in this,” she gestures to her dress, her eyes still closed.
“Y/N…”
“Sunghoon…”
He sighs, “How about this? I can unzip your dress and you do the rest yourself.”
She thinks about it for a second before nodding. She sits back up, opening her eyes slightly. He helps her back to her feet, and she turns around, holding her hair out of the way as he unzips the back of her dress. He turns around and gives her some privacy as she changes into the pajamas.
“Sunghoon, you’re so nice to me,” she starts sniffling.
He turns around to find her sitting back down on her bed with tears in her eyes. He sighs and sits next to her. She immediately leans her head on his shoulder.
“I hope you never get a girlfriend,” she mumbles.
He pats her head gently, letting her talk herself out until she falls asleep.
“I think I’ll die if you get a girlfriend. Promise me you won’t get one?”
She lifts her head up from his shoulder to look at him with tear stained cheeks. His eyes soften at the sight of her.
“Y/N, you should get some rest,” he says, gently trying to lay her down.
She starts sobbing at how he evades the question.
“You probably already have a secret girlfriend. That’s why you didn’t promise me, right?” She cries.
Sunghoon sighs and grabs some tissues from the nightstand. He gently wipes the tears from her face.
“I don’t have a girlfriend, Y/N,” he says.
“Then why won’t you promise me?” She looks up at him with the most adorable pout, making his eyes flicker down to her lips.
“Because I want a girlfriend eventually,” he says softly.
She starts crying again, pulling the covers over her head so he can’t keep wiping her face clean.
“Y/N…” he sighs.
He tries to pull the covers off, but her grip is strong.
“Go away, you traitor,” she hiccups.
“Y/N, you’re drunk. You should get some sleep.”
But she continues rambling.
“I thought we were going to stay together forever,” she cries, “You’re the only man that exists to me. Every other man is boring and ugly compared to you. Do other girls exist to you? Do you find them pretty? Is that why you want to get a girlfriend?”
Sunghoon’s heart races, but he tries to stay calm. He crouches down so he’s eye level to her on the bed.
“No, other girls don’t exist to me either,” he says gently.
She sniffles and peeks her head out from under the covers to look at him.
“That doesn’t make sense,” she says.
“Yes, it does,” he says, pulling the blanket lower so he can see her face fully.
“If other girls don’t exist to you, who will be your girlfriend?” She asks.
“Think about it.”
She remains quiet for a moment, her eyebrows furrowed in thought.
“I don’t know…” she mumbles eventually, making him sigh.
He notices the way her eyelids droop, fighting to stay awake. He pats her head gently.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow. You should sleep.”
She protests weakly, but he brings the covers up to her chin and tucks her in. Her eyes are closed again and her breathing even. He stares at her sleeping form for a moment before leaning down and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
“Think about it,” he whispers before leaving her room.
Sunghoon, in fact, does not tell her tomorrow. She completely forgets the conversation, and he gets cold feet. They fall back into their routine, but Sunghoon can’t stop thinking about what she told him. She wants to stay with him forever…
“Why are you blushing?” Y/N asks, snapping him out of his thoughts.
“Oh…nothing,” he mumbles.
They’re at the library trying to study for midterms. It’s been three hours already, and it’s getting harder to focus. Sunghoon’s mind keeps drifting off.
“So,” he starts, catching her attention. “After you graduate, what are you going to do?”
“Pick a city we want to live in, find jobs and move there. Preferably somewhere that has a lot of parks or outdoor recreation,” she says. It seems like she has it all planned out.
“As in us together?” He asks.
“Yeah. Obviously,” She looks at him, immediately noticing how flustered he’s getting. “Why? Do you not want to be together?”
The wording she uses makes his heart want to leap out of his chest.
“It’s not that. It’s just…” he pauses for a moment, debating whether or not he wants to ask this. “You don’t want to branch out on your own or anything? Live alone, be independent…get a boyfriend?”
She makes a face. “Living alone as a girl is scary, I’m already independent, and I hate men. Except you of course.”
Sunghoon remains silent. She makes him feel like he’s the center of her universe and it only makes him fall for her even more.
“So we will be old and still living together?” He asks.
She shrugs. “Why not? I can see us sitting on our porch, yelling at random kids to get off our lawn that we perfectly crafted to have a fish pond and flowers for pollinators.”
She watches him as his face turns even redder.
“You’d want to spend the rest of our lives together?” He asks softly.
“Yeah. I mean I can’t see it without you.”
They stare at each other in silence. His eyes flicker down to her lips before looking away sheepishly.
“As friends?” He asks.
It’s Y/N’s turn to blush, realizing how what she said may have come off.
“If that’s what you want,” she says. “I’m okay with being just friends.”
His heart pounds in his chest, and he looks up at her. “Just?”
She quickly realizes her slip up and hides her face behind her hands.
“I meant…” her voice trembles slightly.
“Y/N…” he smiles and gently pulls her arms to the side so he can see her clearly. “Quite frankly, if we’re going to spend the rest of our lives together, I don’t want to be just friends.”
Her eyes flicker between his, her heart racing in a panic in her chest.
“Y/N…” he says softly after seeing the panic in her eyes. “I’ve loved you for almost as long as I’ve been alive.”
He gently cups her face with his hands.
“And I will love you for the rest of it.”
Her breath comes out shaky as she continues to look into his eyes, seeing the sincerity in them.
“I don’t want to be just friends,” she whispers finally.
She watches as his eyes glance down at her lips then back up to her eyes. His thumbs trace her cheeks.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks.
She nods ever so slightly. His smile as he leans in makes her heart flutter. His lips are as soft and gentle as she remembers, and it makes her head spin. The kiss is short and sweet, and when he pulls away, he’s still running his thumbs across her cheeks. She blushes and tries to pull away from his touch. The smile on his lips only grows, and he leans in for another peck to her lips.
“Sorry,” he laughs. “I’m just very happy right now.”
His hand runs through her hair and rests at the back of her neck. The cuteness of her flushed face makes him gently squeeze her cheeks with his other hand, swaying her head side to side every so slightly.
“Is this what I’m gonna have to deal with for the rest of my life?” She chuckles.
“Unfortunately, yes. No take backs now,” he smiles, squeezing her cheeks again before placing another kiss on her pouty lips.
The transition between friends to lovers is surprisingly difficult for Sunghoon and Y/N despite the years of tension. They fall into their routines and end up forgetting that they’re actually a couple now.
They get shy when it comes to any form of intentional physical affection. They have always been somewhat affectionate towards each other but now there’s romantic intention behind it, and it makes them shy, especially Sunghoon.
Sunghoon has been dreaming about the day of them becoming a couple, but he’s scared of moving too fast and scaring her. This results in shy touches or Y/N having to initiate things. She teases him a lot about it.
They’re cuddling in bed, facing each other. His arm is loosely draped over her waist, and his eyes are closed as she traces his face with her fingers. There’s a small smile on his lips and a pink tint to his cheeks.
“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you this up close,” Y/N whispers. “You have a small mole under your eye.”
He hums, and his eyelids flutter open to look at her. He remains silent as he watches her admire him, a warmth spreading through his chest. Her eyes lock with his for a brief moment. The look of pure adoration in his eyes makes her melt.
“It’s kind of surreal,” he whispers. “I’ve thought about this for years.”
Y/N chuckles softly and brings her hand to cup the side of his head. Her thumb gently traces over his ear.
“Oh, you want me bad,” she teases.
Sunghoon bites his lip out of embarrassment and tries to look away.
“I mean, yeah…”
Y/N’s heart races in her chest, and a blush spreads to her cheeks and ears.
Sunghoon loves to be babied, but in private or else it hurts his pride.
After a long few days of final exams, he walks into their shared apartment. He drops his backpack on the floor by the door and shuffles to the couch where Y/N is sitting. He whines softly and lays on top of her.
“Hold me,” he says. “Comfort me.”
She laughs as he wraps his arms around her and buries his face in her neck. She rubs his back comfortingly, and he instantly melts into her. She plays and runs her fingers through his hair. He hums happily.
“Finals were that bad?” she asks after a while of silence.
“Mhm,” he hums against her neck. “It didn’t help that I was sitting next to this guy who does not know what deodorant is.”
He buries his face deeper into her neck, inhaling deeply.
“You smell so nice,” he mumbles.
The feeling of her hands running up and down his back is so comforting to Sunghoon. He wants to be even closer, wants to fuse with her if ever possible. He’s already face deep in her neck, getting lost in the smell of her body wash. His hands start roaming her sides, and he starts planting kisses to her neck.
Once she realizes what he’s doing, she clicks her tongue and gently tugs at his ear, pulling him out of her neck. He looks at her with the saddest eyes.
“Can I please just kiss my girlfriend?” he asks.
“Last time I let you do that you left my neck purple,” she glares at him.
He looks up at her with the smuggest grin on his face.
“Don’t give me that look.”
“What look?” He tries to act innocent, but the smug expression is still there.
She yanks at his ear again, and his grin turns into a pout. He buries his face back in her neck.
“Fine,” he grumbles and calms down.
Y/N has a habit of teasing Sunghoon into getting boners, especially when he’s still hesitant about initiating anything with her out of fear of making her uncomfortable. Poor Sunghoon would be fighting for his life.
A hand up his shirt and gently rubbing his belly? Hard. A playful bite on his bicep? Hard. A little tug on his hair as he lays his head in her lap? Hard.
At first he’s so embarrassed about it and apologizes, but once he finds out she’s doing it on purpose, he starts to get a little more comfortable.
He’s cooking one evening, and she comes up behind him in the kitchen and gives him a back hug. She presses her body against his back and purposely wraps her arms a little too low on his waist than normal. It really doesn’t take too long before his sweatpants tent up.
“Whatcha making?” She asks innocently, but he knows what game she’s playing now.
“Just ramen.”
“Mm.”
He plays along with it for a bit, grabbing her hands and pulling them up higher around his torso, but they always find their way back down around his hips. He turns around which makes her stop hugging him, and she looks at him as if she’s doing nothing wrong. He shakes his head and grabs her by the waist and sits her on the counter.
“Stay,” he points at her, and a smile breaks out on her lips.
He knows damn well she isn’t gonna stay.
“I’m not a dog,” she grunts playfully, swinging her leg out to poke the side of his thigh with her foot.
“I’m cooking,” he says, swatting her leg away.
She scoots closer to him, still sitting on the counter. He gives her a side eye which only makes her scoot even closer. He stirs around the ramen then turns off the stove top. He grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her back to the place on the counter she was supposed to stay at. She groans and swings her legs slightly in protest.
He cups both of his hands on her cheeks, making her go still. He looks at her briefly before pulling her face toward him and kissing her. It turns into a makeout session real quick, and she tries to wrap her legs around his waist. His hands grab her by the thighs and push them, holding them back.
“I said stay,” he whispers against the kiss, making her go crazy.
Even then he's too scared to take things too far. He presses his body a little closer to her, but other than that, he keeps things PG-13.
She gets super frustrated. She tries to give him hints by running her hands all over his body. His breathing becomes shakier, but they have never actually gone all the way before, and he’s kind of scared.
His hands are still gripping her thighs away from him, and she’s getting more desperate. She can tell he’s clearly hard and enjoying this. She grabs his waist and pulls him flush against her so he’s nuzzled between her legs, and he short circuits.
He stops kissing her and buries his face in her neck, his breath shaking and his hands on her thighs trembling slightly.
“Why are you hesitating?” She whispers softly. She runs her fingers through his hair soothingly.
He stays silent for a while, his face still in her neck as he tries to calm down.
“I’m nervous,” he whispers back.
“About what?”
“I don’t want to mess things up.”
She pulls back slightly, making him stop hiding and look at her. His cheeks are flushed and his eyes scan across her face. She smiles, trying to ease him a little.
“How would you mess things up?”
He shrugs. “A lot of ways. I don’t know what I’m doing.” He looks away shyly. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable and ruin everything.”
He was clearly talking about more than just what was unfolding at the moment. She brings him into a comforting hug, resting her chin on his shoulder.
“I’m scared you’ll think this was a mistake. I’ve loved you for so long…” he trails off.
“Do you not think I feel the same way?” She asks softly, her nose burying into his neck. “Every time you hesitate it makes me think you’re regretting this.”
His breath hitches, and he pulls back slightly from the hug to look at her.
“I love you, Sunghoon,” she says. “And I want you. All of you.”
His heart practically beats out his chest, his cheeks turning a bright red. He swallows nervously.
“I love you too…” he whispers, his eyes trained onto her face.
“So…” she says, running her hand down his chest
His eyes follow her hand as it stops at his stomach. They’re both blushing messes at this point, ramen long forgotten as he grabs her hand and helps her off the kitchen counter.
Their first time is definitely clumsy but cute. They’re both shy about taking their clothes off for the first time. It really solidifies their relationship switch from being friends for so long to actually being in a romantic relationship, which is both scary and exhilarating at the same time.
They start slow, just making out and their hands roaming and exploring over their clothes. When her hands make their way up underneath his shirt he practically buckles. His breath hitches, and she can feel his stomach tighten under her fingers.
She smiles against his lips before trying to pull his shirt up and off. This part was easy enough. She’s seen him without a shirt plenty of times, so he isn’t too flustered. As they continue kissing, she can feel his finger tips hesitantly slipping under her shirt and resting at her hips. He clearly wants to take her shirt off too and her cheeks turn red.
Her heart pounds in her chest as she pulls back from the kiss and looks at him. He’s like a deer in headlights, frozen, thinking he did something wrong to make her stop and pull away. He notes how flustered she looks, and it brings him a little more confidence.
He pulls her shirt up slightly then stops to look at her to see if she’s having second thoughts, but she raises her arms over her head and lets him take it off. His hands caress her bare sides, feeling the warmth of her skin. He shakily fumbles with the clasp of her bra. It takes him a bit until he’s able to get it off, but once he does, he can’t stop staring. He blushes and looks away when he catches himself staring. There’s so many thoughts going through his head. He suddenly doesn’t know what to do with his hands.
She sees the slight panic in his eyes and pulls him into another kiss. His thoughts are temporarily silenced. She presses her body against his, and the feeling of her bare chest against his makes him groan. His arms snake around her and his hands splay across her back, pulling her even closer.
He’s lost in the moment, his hands roaming across her bare back and feeling her soft skin under his fingertips. He trails kisses down her jaw and neck, feeling her pulse quicken under his lips. Her hands tug at his hair, eliciting soft grunts out of him as he trails his lips down her shoulder. He presses closer, gently laying her backwards onto the bed. His hands trace up her sides and stomach, still somehow hesitating despite being face deep into her neck.
She lets out an exasperated noise and grabs one of his wrists, leading his hand to her chest. He makes a choking sound against her neck and stops kissing for a second, his heavy breathing making the hairs on her skin stand up.
“It’s okay. Touch me,” she whispers, a slight shakiness to her voice.
She can’t suppress the soft moans that leave her lips as he begins to slowly knead her chest. His nose trails across her shoulder as he places kisses along her collarbone, her sweetly fresh scent filling his nose. His thumb circles around her nipple, playing and slightly pulling on it.
Her breathy moans make him groan with pleasure, his hips involuntarily bucking against hers. His sweatpants are practically strained around him.
“S-sorry,” he mutters, pulling his hips back slightly.
Her hands are already at his waistband. His arms brace on the bed at either side of her head, his breath shaky as he looks down at her fumbling with the drawstrings of his sweatpants. She pushes his sweatpants down his thighs, leaving him in his boxers where his arousal was even more apparent. She looks up to meet his eyes and he immediately looks away, red in the face.
She reaches up and traces his ear, the tip bright red to match his face. Her touch lingers on his earlobe before tracing down the side of his neck. She can see his adam's apple bob as he swallows nervously.
“Take mine off,” she whispers, trying to distract him from the embarrassment.
“Okay,” he whispers back.
His eyes flicker down to her bottoms which are just some pajama shorts. His fingers trace the waistband.
“Both? Or…”
It was her turn to turn beet red. He looks up at her and blushes seeing her blush.
“Unless you don’t want to—“ he immediately backtracks.
“All of it,” she cuts him off and looks away shyly, not wanting to see his face as he takes everything off and looks at her fully.
His hands are shaking as he pulls her shorts and underwear off, but once she’s lying there fully bare in front of him his breath is taken away. His hands trail up her legs, gently caressing her skin. Once they reach her thighs, he slowly kneads them and pushes them apart to look at her. She closes her eyes as if trying to hide. He notices immediately and his hands come up to grab her waist as he leans forward and places soft kisses to her face.
“What’s wrong?” He asks softly.
She shakes her head slightly, her eyes are open now but still not looking at him.
“I’m a little embarrassed…” she mumbles.
He looks at her, his gaze softening as he cups her cheek in his hand and makes her face him. He brushes strands of hair out of her face. His fingertips trace her features, running across her eyebrow bone and down her nose bridge, across her cheekbones and down her jaw until they land on her bottom lip.
“You’re so beautiful. You don’t need to be embarrassed,” he says softly. “But we can stop if you’re not comfortable.”
She looks at him as he traces her face, his eyes soft and so full of affection she wants to cry. Her bottom lip trembles slightly and he leans forward to place a tender kiss on them.
“You’re so precious to me,” he whispers against her lips.
Her arms wrap around him and into a hug, overwhelmed with emotion as he buries his face in her neck.
“I love you,” she says. Her hands run down his back, making him shiver. “I trust you.”
He hums contently into her neck but doesn’t make any moves to continue where he’d left off earlier. Instead, his hands roam her sides, caressing her curves as he gently sucks on her neck. Her grip tightens on his back, and she moves her head aside to expose more of her neck, soft whimpers leaving her lips.
The sounds she makes are making him slightly lose control. His hips press against hers, and he groans into her neck at the slight friction. He hears her breath hitch too, her hands on his back trailing down to his waist to pull at his boxers.
He pulls back from her neck to let her take them off. His eyes are fixed on her face, his cheeks flushed as he watches her gaze run down his body completely. He swallows nervously as her hands trail down his sides, stopping at his hips. His length immediately twitches at her simple touch.
“Let’s…” he swallows again. “Let’s focus on you.” He mutters.
Her eyebrows furrow as she looks up at him. Her mouth opens to say something but he quickly leans forward and kisses her. Her hands stay at his hips, slightly gripping his thighs. He feels her hands inching downward, making his head spin. He pulls back to look at her, his face flushed. His hands gently pull hers off of him, and she’s about to protest again, but he brings them up to his lips and kisses them gently.
“Let me focus on you, please,” he whispers, voice shaking. “I…if you touch me, I will probably…finish,” he looks away shyly.
This gives Y/N such a rush. Any insecurity she has about her body is completely gone seeing how worked up he is. Her hand trails down his arm and grabs his wrist. She gently guides his hand between her legs.
He says he doesn’t know what he’s doing. She guides him at first, showing him where to touch her. He’s a quick learner, though. He’s an observer. He knows he’s doing a good job by the sounds she makes and how her body responds to his touch, getting closer and wanting more. If he’s unsure, he just keeps his hand still, and her hips will move against it how she needs to.
The palm of his hand grinds on her clit as he pumps his fingers into her, making her see stars. His face is back in the crook of her neck, kissing and sucking on her skin. He can feel her tightening around his fingers, and he groans in her neck as if it’s his dick and not his fingers.
She tugs the hair on the back of his head, pulling him out from her neck to have him look at her. His eyes are glazed over. He is absolutely gone. She has to kiss him to snap him out of it, but it only works for a little while until he’s groaning and devouring her mouth.
“Sunghoon,” she pants against his lips when he even gives her time to breathe.
He responds with a sound between a hum and a grunt, but he doesn’t stop. She grabs his wrist that’s still lazily fingering her, and he immediately freezes. He pulls back and looks at her with a guilty expression. He's about to apologize, but she releases his wrist and instead wraps her hand around his length.
The facial expression he makes is so perfect, she almost thinks he finishes. She rubs the length of him along herself, coating it. He almost collapses on top of her, his breathing shaky and a raspy moan leaving his lips. She guides his tip to her entrance and his head falls forward, his hair covering his face.
“Fuck,” he gasps. “Are you sure?” He’s breathing heavily now, his eyes trained on her face.
She bites her lip and nods. His eyes flicker down to her lips as she bites them. He leans forward to kiss her again, but gently this time.
He pushes himself deeper little by little, stopping for a bit whenever he sees her face scrunch up with discomfort. He continues to kiss her until he finally bottoms out. He stays still, letting her adjust as he buries his face in her neck again. His breathing is raggedy as he tries not to cum right then and there. She runs her hands down his back soothingly as if reassuring him it’s okay. He slowly rolls his hips, thrusting shallowly, not fully trusting himself to last long.
“God, you're beautiful,” he mumbles against her jaw.
His hands are roaming up and down her body and kissing her lips. His thrusts slowly become deeper yet still gentle. Her warmth is driving him crazy. His arms wrap around her in a hug as he tries to control himself. He can feel her tighten around him, making him groan against her neck. Her fingers yank at his hair as her strangled moans brush against his ear.
“I love you. Fuck…” he pants, “you feel so good.”
He's mumbling praises into her neck as his thrusts become lazy and his hips are shuddering. That’s her undoing. He’s just so hot as he gets desperate and out of control. Her walls grip around him as she feels her orgasm, making him choke and bury himself fully into her. He groans and slightly collapses on top of her as her grip makes him finish.
He stays still for a second but then starts to thrust again. Very slowly and gently, prolonging both of their orgasms.
They’re both shaking by the end of it, bodies sweaty and heaving. She pulls him down on top of her, knowing he’s tired. He obliges, letting her wrap her arms around him. She likes the feeling of his body weight on top of her. She runs her hands down his back soothingly as both of their breathing slowly goes back to normal.
“I love you,” he whispers into her neck.
“I love you too,” she says, patting his head. “You did so good.”
He hums, his cheeks flushed. He wraps his arms around her and rolls onto his back, pulling her along with him. He smiles up at her, tucking strands of hair behind her ear. They stay in each other’s embrace for a long while. Her cheek is pressed against his chest, and he’s tracing lines onto her shoulder when her stomach growls.
“Do you think the ramen is still good?” she asks softly.
“Probably not,” he laughs. “I can make you another one, though.”
Breaking the Bro Code - Epilogue: ah shit here we go again
previous | masterlist
(a/n: AND THATS IT! i can’t believe it. i couldn’t help myself from a tiny little epilogue bc i really enjoyed this smau so much. i hope you all loved reading it just as much as i loved writing it 🩷)
synopsis - when your university dorm burns down, your older brother, lee heeseung, says you can move in with him and his roommates in their apartment. unfortunately for jake sim, this new, gorgeous addition to his life is strictly off limits.
synopsis: After waking up eighty nine years too early aboard a starship bound for a distant planet, you've spent the last three months completely alone, exploring the empty ship and trying not to lose yourself to loneliness. But when another passenger unexpectedly wakes up from his pod, the two of you must navigate a world meant to stay asleep for decades, slowly growing closer as you face life together.
warnings: unprotected sex!
word count: 12.5k
author's note: i hope you enjoy this fic! it was rlly fun to write and i kinda love ittt lmk ur thoughts! and pls reblog and like if you enjoyed it :) (and yes, this is inspired by/based off the movie)
The first thing you learned after waking up eighty nine years too early was that loneliness didn't arrive all at once. It crept in.
The first few days were almost exciting. You were too distracted by panic to feel lonely. Too busy demanding answers from emergency hotlines that led to nowhere. Too busy searching every corner of the ship for someone, anyone, who could tell you why you were awake when everyone else remained asleep.
The Aurora was enormous. Bigger than any city you'd ever seen. A floating world wrapped in polished silver and glass. There were restaurants with tables set for hundreds of passengers who would never sit there. Swimming pools that reflected artificial sunlight. Shopping centers stocked with products nobody would buy for another eighty nine years. Everything was perfect. Everything worked. And everything was empty.
You spent the first week convinced help was coming, the second week waiting. By the third week, you started memorizing the routes between decks because there was nothing else to do. The ship never changed.
Every morning, the lights brightened at the exact same time. Every evening, they dimmed. Every hallway looked spotless and untouched. No laughter. No conversations. No footsteps except your own. Sometimes you would deliberately walk as loudly as possible just to hear something. Anything.
One afternoon, after wandering through the same observation deck for the hundredth time, you found yourself standing in front of one of the enormous windows.
Space stretched endlessly beyond the glass. Black, infinite, and beautiful. You pressed your forehead against the cool surface. The stars didn't twinkle out here. They burned steadily. Thousands of tiny lights scattered across a darkness so vast it made your stomach twist. You had never felt smaller. The realization hit you all over again. Nobody could hear you. Nobody knew you were awake. There wasn't a single living person within millions of miles who could help. A sharp ache settled in your chest.
You hated thinking about it.
So instead, you went swimming. Then you watched movies. Then you ordered enough room service for six people because nobody was around to stop you. Then you played arcade games until three in the morning. Then you wandered into the bar.
That was where you met Arthur. Well, met was probably the wrong word. He'd been there the whole time. The bartender android stood behind the polished counter exactly as he'd been programmed to do, serving drinks to passengers who weren't awake yet to order them. At first, the conversations were awkward. Mostly because he wasn't really a person. But after months passed, Arthur became part of your routine, you sat at the same stool every evening, ordered the same drink, complained about the same things. Arthur listened politely every time. Sometimes you wondered if he understood more than he was supposed to.
"You seem troubled today," he said one evening. You laughed.
"Today?"
"More troubled than usual."
"That's impressive." Arthur tilted his head. The movement was almost human.
"Would you like to discuss it?"
You rested your chin against your palm. The bar was quiet. Soft jazz drifted through hidden speakers. Beyond the massive windows, stars passed by in endless silence. "I think I've walked every hallway on this ship."
"Congratulations."
"I'm serious."
"So am I." You rolled your eyes. Arthur continued polishing a glass that didn't need polishing.
"I imagine that's quite an achievement."
"You know what's sad?"
"What?"
"I was actually proud of it."
"Understandable."
A smile tugged at your lips despite yourself. That was the thing about Arthur. He wasn't funny. Not intentionally at least. But after spending months alone, his weird robotic responses somehow became hilarious. The smile faded quickly. Because eventually every conversation ended the same way. You would leave. Walk back through empty hallways. And remember that you were alone.
Completely.
Utterly.
Alone.
Until the noise.
It happened on a random Tuesday. At least you thought it was Tuesday. Time had become blurry months ago. You were asleep when it started. A metallic crash somewhere far away. Your eyes flew open. For a moment you stayed perfectly still, listening. The ship hummed quietly around you. Nothing seemed unusual. You almost convinced yourself you'd imagined it.
Then it happened again.
THUNK.
Louder this time. Your heart immediately sped up. You sat upright. The sound echoed faintly through the walls. Metal against metal. The ship wasn't supposed to sound like this. After a few months aboard, you knew every noise it made. The elevators. The engines. The doors. This wasn't any of them.
A strange unease crawled down your spine. You climbed out of bed. The floor felt cold beneath your feet.
The hallway outside your cabin was empty. Bright white lights stretched endlessly in both directions, silent and still.
The noise came again.
A distant crash followed by what sounded suspiciously like someone stumbling into something.
You froze.
Someone?
Your pulse hammered.
No. That wasn't possible. There wasn't anyone else awake. You knew that. You checked the passenger chambers all the time. Not because there was a reason to. Just because it felt comforting seeing other people, even if they were asleep.
The sound echoed again.
This time there was no mistaking it.
Something was happening.
You started walking. Then walking became jogging. Then jogging became running. Your footsteps bounced off the empty walls.
The passenger hibernation chamber sat near the center of the ship. Massive reinforced doors guarded the entrance. As you approached, you realized your hands were shaking. Maybe it was a malfunction. Maybe something had broken. Maybe—
The doors slid open.
Cold air rushed out. The chamber stretched endlessly before you. Rows upon rows of pods disappeared into the distance. Thousands of sleeping passengers. Thousands of motionless faces.
And one pod…
One pod was open.
You stopped so suddenly your shoes squeaked against the floor. For a second your brain refused to process what you were seeing.
The pod stood open. Empty. Its occupant gone. Your heart nearly stopped.
Then, movement caught your eye. Someone was standing near the row of pods. A boy. Alive and awake. It was real. He looked just as shocked as you felt. His dark hair was messy from sleep. His passenger uniform hung slightly crooked. And he was staring at the room around him with wide, confused eyes as if he'd been dropped into another universe. Which, in a way, he had.
You took a hesitant step forward. The floor creaked. The boy whipped around. The second he saw you, he jumped so violently he nearly fell over. "What—!"
You screamed.
He screamed too.
The sound echoed through the massive chamber. Both of you immediately stared at each other in horror. Neither moving. Neither breathing. The boy's eyes somehow widened even more. Which honestly seemed impossible.
"What is happening?" he blurted.
You pointed at him.
"No, what is happening with you?!"
"I woke up!"
"I can see that!"
"I don't know why!"
"Neither do I!"
For a second there was silence. The kind of silence that only happens when two extremely confused people realize neither of them knows anything.
The boy looked around helplessly. At the sleeping passengers. At the open pod. At you. Then back at the passengers. His face slowly drained of color. "Oh." You watched realization hit him. Hard. "Oh," he repeated.
Your stomach twisted because you remembered that feeling. The exact moment you understood. The exact moment you realized nobody was coming. Nobody was awake. And something had gone terribly wrong.
The boy swallowed. His voice came out much smaller this time. "How long have you been awake?" You hesitated.
"Three months." His expression froze. Three months. The number seemed to hit him like a truck.
"Three..." His voice cracked. "Months?" You nodded.
The room became very quiet. The boy looked like he didn't know whether to cry, panic, or pass out. Honestly, all three seemed reasonable. He rubbed both hands through his hair, turned in a circle, then immediately walked into the corner of another pod. The collision made a loud thunk. You blinked. He blinked. "Oh my God," he muttered, rubbing his forehead.
And despite the situation, despite the confusion. Despite the fact that your entire world had just changed again, you almost laughed. Because he looked ridiculously flustered. Like a confused puppy trying to understand advanced mathematics. The boy noticed your expression. Immediately, he looked away. Embarrassed.
A tiny smile tugged at your lips.
Interesting.
Apparently making him nervous was very easy.
And for the first time in those three months, for the first time since waking up alone, you felt something besides loneliness.
Curiosity.
~
Neither of you spoke for several seconds. The silence settled heavily between the rows of sleeping pods. Thousands of people surrounded you, suspended peacefully in hibernation, completely unaware that anything had gone wrong.
It felt almost disrespectful to speak too loudly, as though you might wake the rest of them if you weren't careful.
The boy was the first to break the silence.
"What..." His voice cracked. He cleared his throat before trying again. "What happened?" You let out a slow breath.
"I don't know." His eyes searched yours, looking for reassurance you couldn't give. "My pod malfunctioned," you continued quietly. "That's all anyone, or rather, anything, has been able to tell me. Some kind of critical failure. The computer woke me up for safety reasons." He frowned.
"So..."
"It looks like yours did too." He stared back at his open pod. Thin wisps of frost still clung to the edges of the chamber, slowly disappearing into the air.
"But we can fix it, right?"
You hesitated. "I thought that too."
"No, I mean..." He laughed nervously. "Can’t we just… go back?" The words made your stomach tighten. You remembered asking those same exact questions. You remembered refusing to believe the answers.
"I've tried everything." He looked back at you. "I've searched every deck. Every terminal. Every maintenance access point I could get into. I've called emergency support more times than I can count."
"And?"
"They all say the same thing."
"What?"
You swallowed. "Passenger hibernation cannot be manually initiated."
His expression faltered. "What does that mean?"
"It means..." You struggled to find gentler words, but there weren't any. "Once you're awake, there's no way back." He blinked.
"No."
"I'm sorry."
"No." He shook his head harder this time. "No, that's impossible."
Without warning he hurried past you, nearly clipping your shoulder as he rushed back toward his pod. "There has to be something." He leaned over the open chamber, frantically pressing buttons along its side. Nothing happened. Again. Nothing. He hit another panel. The pod emitted a soft, polite chime. Manual hibernation unavailable. "No." He pressed harder. "There has to be an override. There has to—"
"There isn't."
He ignored you completely, moving to the terminal beside the pod instead. His fingers flew across the touchscreen. Search after search. Override. Emergency sleep protocol. Manual stasis. Anything. Every result came back the same. Unavailable. Restricted. Automatic systems only. His breathing became noticeably faster.
"When..." he whispered without looking at you. "When are we supposed to wake up?"
"Four months before arrival." He nodded quickly.
"Okay." A hopeful smile flickered across his face. "So how much longer?"
You wished he hadn't asked.
"There are..." You looked away. "...eighty nine years left."
The room seemed to stop.
He stared at you.
"Eighty..." His voice barely existed anymore. "...nine?" You nodded once. His knees nearly gave out. He caught himself against the pod before slowly sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. "No." The word was almost silent. "No, no, no..." His hands trembled as they covered his face. "This isn't happening… I can't..." He shook his head rapidly. "I have people waiting for me."
"I know."
"My family..." His voice broke completely. "They're expecting me."
You crouched a few feet away, giving him space. "I know." Tears escaped before he seemed to realize he was crying.
"There has to be a way."
"Belive me, I’ve tried."
He buried his face in his hands. The only sounds in the room were the quiet hum of the pods and his uneven breathing. Eventually it slowed.
You stood carefully. "Come on." He didn't move. "You should get some rest."
"I don't think I can sleep."
"You've just spent decades in hibernation. Your body still needs time to adjust."
~
You led him through the silent corridors toward the residential deck, showing him one of the passenger suites. The room was identical to yours, large windows overlooking the stars, a neatly made bed, soft lighting, and a small dining area. "The food dispensers still work," you explained. "You should eat something. Drink plenty of water too. It helps."
He looked around the unfamiliar room as though none of it felt real. When you turned to leave, he instinctively took a half step after you before stopping himself. "...Goodnight," he said. You offered him a small, reassuring smile.
"Goodnight."
The automatic door slid shut behind you. The hallway was quiet again. You stood there for a long moment, staring at the closed door.
Three months. For three months you'd wished more than anything that someone else would wake up. Now they had. And somehow... everything felt different.
-
Sleep never came.
You laid on your back, staring at the ceiling as the soft lights of your cabin dimmed into their artificial nighttime setting. Beyond the enormous window, the stars drifted by in complete silence, exactly as they had every night for the past three months.
Only tonight was different.
Every time you closed your eyes, you saw him. The way he'd looked standing beside the open pod, frozen in place with wide, frightened eyes. The confusion on his face when he looked around the chamber, still expecting someone to explain what was happening. The hope that had flickered across his expression when he'd asked how much longer until arrival.
Then the way it disappeared.
You had watched his world fall apart in the span of a few sentences.
You remembered hearing those words yourself. You remembered refusing to believe them. You remembered running from terminal to terminal, desperately searching for a different answer, pressing every button you could find, calling emergency support over and over again until you could practically recite the automated responses from memory. You had said the same things. He hadn't done anything differently. It was almost eerie. Like watching your own memories unfold in front of you.
Your chest tightened. When he'd started crying, something inside you had shifted. Maybe it was because you knew exactly what those tears meant, they were grief. Grief for a life that had disappeared in an instant. For family, friends, plans. A future that was so suddenly taken away from him. You understood every bit of it. No one should have to experience that alone.
The thought lingered in your mind longer than anything else.
He had seemed... so young. Not in age, but in the way he carried himself. There was something remarkably soft about him, sheltered, almost. Every emotion crossed his face before he had a chance to hide it, from confusion to panic to embarrassment. Even through everything, he'd somehow managed to seem... gentle. You smiled faintly to yourself. He'd been so flustered. The memory of him rubbing his forehead after walking into the corner of the pod replayed in your head, and despite yourself, you let out the smallest laugh.
Then the guilt returned just as quickly. He was probably lying awake right now. Probably staring at the ceiling exactly like you were, wondering if his family would ever know what happened to him. Wondering if this was all some terrible dream. Wondering if tomorrow would somehow fix everything. You hoped he wasn't crying anymore. The thought of him sitting alone in that unfamiliar room with no one to talk to made your heart ache.
The loneliness you'd carried for so long hadn't disappeared, but it no longer felt quite so crushing. You weren't alone anymore. Neither was he.
A strange sense of responsibility settled over you. You wanted to make this easier for him somehow, even though you knew you couldn't. You couldn't change what had happened. You couldn't put him back to sleep. You couldn't give him his old life back.
But maybe you could make tomorrow a little less terrifying.
You realized, with a small huff of amusement, that you didn't even know his name. The thought felt ridiculous. He was the only other conscious person on an interstellar ship carrying thousands of sleeping passengers, and somehow you'd forgotten the most basic question imaginable.
What was his name? Where had he come from? What kind of life had he left behind? Why had he boarded the Aurora in the first place? Had he been traveling alone? There were so many things you wanted to ask him.
You turned onto your side, looking out at the endless sea of stars.
Tomorrow, you thought.
-
You woke up earlier than usual. For a few blissful seconds, everything felt normal. You lay beneath the covers staring at the ceiling while the artificial sunrise slowly brightened your room, the familiar hum of the ship surrounding you.
Then you remembered. The boy.
Your eyes widened. You sat upright so quickly the blanket slipped into your lap. It hadn't been a dream. At least... you didn't think it had been.
You hurried out of bed, barely bothering to brush your hair before making your way into the hallway. The corridors looked exactly as they always did, spotless white floors, polished walls, soft morning lighting slowly illuminating the ship.
His room wasn't far from yours. When you reached the door, you hesitated for a moment before raising your hand. Three soft knocks echoed through the hallway. No answer. You frowned. Maybe he was still asleep. You waited another few seconds before knocking again, a little louder this time. Still nothing. "...Hello?" you called. Silence.
The door slid open automatically as you stepped closer. Your stomach sank. The room was empty. The bed was neatly made, the blankets folded so perfectly it looked as though nobody had slept there at all. The bathroom light was off. The untouched glass of water still sat where you'd left it the night before. For a moment you simply stood there. Had... had you imagined all of it? Three months alone could do strange things to a person. Maybe you'd finally reached the point where your mind had started inventing company. You laughed quietly to yourself, though it came out sounding more nervous than amused. "No," you muttered. "No..." He'd been real. You knew he had.
You backed out of the room, your thoughts racing. Maybe he'd gone exploring. Maybe he'd—
Your stomach growled. Breakfast. You hadn't eaten since yesterday. Shaking your head, you started toward the dining hall, trying to convince yourself that once you'd had something to eat, everything would make a little more sense.
Halfway there, something caught your eye. Movement. You stopped walking. Slowly, you turned your head toward the passenger hibernation chamber. The enormous doors stood open. Inside, beneath the soft blue glow of thousands of sleeping pods, someone stood perfectly still.
It was him. Relief washed all over you so suddenly your shoulders relaxed without you realizing. You hadn't imagined him.
For a brief second, you simply watched from the doorway. He hadn't noticed you. His hands rested lightly against the edge of one pod while his eyes wandered from face to face. He was looking at them, watching them sleep. The sight made something ache deep inside your chest. You quietly looked away before he noticed you staring. He deserved a moment. Turning back toward the dining hall, you decided to give him some space.
The breakfast area looked exactly as it always had. Completely empty. Rows of tables stretched beneath high glass ceilings while automated dispensers quietly prepared meals no one was around to order. You poured yourself a bowl of cereal out of habit, adding milk before carrying it to your usual table beside one of the windows. The spoon clinked softly against the bowl. You had barely taken a few bites when footsteps approached. You looked up. He stood there awkwardly, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatshirt. His eyes met yours.
"...Hey," you said.
"Hey." There was a pause. He gestured toward the empty chair across from you. "Can I...?"
"Of course." He pulled the chair out quietly and sat down. For a moment neither of you spoke. You realized then that despite everything that had happened yesterday, there was one very important thing you'd forgotten. "I never asked your name." He blinked.
"Oh." A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "It's Jake."
Jake. You repeated it silently in your head. How fitting.
"What's yours?" he asked. You told him. He repeated it back carefully, testing the sound of it before giving a small nod. "It suits you." Something about hearing another person say your name caught you completely off guard. It had been a long time. You hadn't realized how much you'd missed hearing it until now. You smiled before looking back down at your cereal.
"So..." you began after a moment. "What brought you here?" Jake looked out the window instead of answering immediately.
"It wasn't really my decision."
"No?" He shook his head.
"My parents thought it would be better for us."
"For... all of you?"
"Yeah." You frowned slightly.
"Wait." Your spoon stopped halfway to your mouth. "As in... you came here with your family?" He nodded once.
"They're on the ship."
The puzzle pieces clicked in your head as you put two and two together. Your thoughts drifted back to only a few minutes ago, to him standing quietly among the sleeping pods, looking from face to face without moving. Your chest tightened. "Was that..." you asked gently. "Were you looking at them?" Jake lowered his eyes. After a long moment, he nodded.
"My family." Silence settled between you.
"I'm so sorry," you said quietly. He gave a small shrug. "It's okay." You could tell it wasn't.
"I've... accepted it." You weren't sure anyone could accept something like this in less than twenty four hours. Still, you didn't argue.
"What are they like?" you asked instead. A tiny smile appeared.
"I have two sisters. My older sister's two years older than me." He laughed softly. "She always acted like my second mom. And my little sister..." His expression softened even more. "She's five years younger. I used to help her with homework." The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. "My parents are... they're good people. They worked really hard."
"What made you leave Earth?" you asked carefully. Jake rested his arms on the table.
"We were struggling for a long time." He looked down at his hands. "My parents had debt they couldn't get out of. They worked constantly, but there was never enough money." He paused. "The government had this relocation program. They were offering families financial sponsorship to join the colony project. They said it would reduce overcrowding on Earth and give people like us a chance to start over somewhere with better opportunities." He smiled sadly. "It was basically the only chance we'd ever have."
You nodded slowly. It made sense. The colony wasn't just all sunshine. For some people... it was an escape.
"I never really wanted to leave," Jake admitted. "But I knew why my parents did." He looked up. "What about you?"
You stared into your bowl for a long moment before answering. "I came alone." Jake listened quietly. "I was always against leaving." You smiled faintly. "I grew up without much family. I was an orphan for most of my life. I had really amazing friends, though." The memory made your chest ache. "They became my family."
You traced absent circles against the side of your bowl. "But one by one... they left Earth. I kept telling myself I'd stay." You laughed softly. "I still had my dog." Your smile turned bittersweet. "He was getting old. When he died..." You looked out at the endless stars beyond the glass. "...there wasn't really anything keeping me there anymore. So I bought a ticket."
Jake didn't say anything. He didn't need to. The sympathy in his eyes said enough. For a while, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn't awkward anymore.
Finally, you let out a small laugh. "Well." You pushed your empty bowl away. "That's enough depressing life stories for one morning." Jake smiled. A real one this time.
You noticed then that there was nothing in front of him. "No breakfast?" He glanced toward the food dispensers before shaking his head.
"I'm not really hungry."
"You should probably eat something anyway."
"I know."
"How are you feeling?" He thought for a moment.
"...Better."
"You sure?" He nodded.
"I still can't really believe any of this." His fingers absentmindedly traced circles on the tabletop. "But..." He looked up at you. "I'm not as scared as I was yesterday."
Something warm settled in your chest. "I'm glad."
"And..." He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "I actually slept okay."
You smiled. "Good."
Outside the window, the stars continued drifting silently past.
-
By the afternoon, you decided there was only one other “person” aboard the Aurora that Jake needed to meet.
"Come on," you said as you led him through the familiar corridors.
He looked around curiously. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
He followed a step behind, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans, his eyes wandering over every passing storefront and observation window. Everything still seemed to fascinate him. Every few seconds he'd slow down to glance at something new before hurrying to catch up again.
The grand atrium opened before the two of you, sunlight spilling through the towering glass ceiling and reflecting off polished marble floors.
Jake stopped walking.
"...Whoa."
You smiled.
"I had the same reaction."
The room was breathtaking even after three months. Water trickled down a massive stone fountain in the center of the atrium while glass elevators drifted silently between floors. If someone had filled the space with people, you could almost forget you were drifting through the emptiness of space.
Almost.
You headed toward the familiar bar tucked into the corner of the atrium.
Arthur looked up the moment the two of you approached. His practiced smile never faltered.
"Welcome back," he said pleasantly. "It's good to see you again."
He turned his attention toward Jake.
"And I see you've brought company."
Jake blinked.
"You..." He glanced at you before looking back at Arthur. "You're... a robot."
Arthur nodded once. "I prefer the term android."
Jake immediately straightened.
"Oh." There was a painfully awkward pause. "...Sorry."
Arthur smiled exactly the same way he had before. "No offense taken."
Jake nodded a little too enthusiastically. "Good."
Another pause.
"So..."
Arthur waited patiently.
Jake scratched the back of his neck. "...How are you?"
You bit the inside of your cheek.
Arthur answered without missing a beat. "I am functioning within normal operational parameters."
"Oh." Jake nodded again. "That's... good."
You couldn't help it. A laugh escaped before you had a chance to stop it.
Jake looked over immediately. "What?"
"Nothing."
"You laughed."
"I didn't."
"You definitely did."
Arthur watched the exchange quietly. "I believe she found your conversation endearing."
Jake's ears immediately turned pink.
"I..." He looked down at the floor. "I've never talked to a robot before."
"I gathered as much," Arthur replied.
You laughed again. Jake let out an embarrassed groan, hiding his face behind one hand. "This is so humiliating."
"You'll get used to him."
Arthur reached beneath the counter. "What may I prepare for the two of you today?"
"The usual," you answered automatically. Arthur nodded.
"And for our new passenger?" Jake looked between the two of you.
"I don't know."
"What do you recommend?"
Arthur considered the question for exactly one second.
"I recommend broadening one's experiences."
Jake looked even more confused. Arthur set two glasses on the counter before expertly mixing something amber colored into each one. He slid the first glass toward you. Then the second toward Jake. Jake stared at it.
"...What's this?"
"A whiskey sour."
He looked back at Arthur.
"...Is there alcohol in it?"
"There is." Jake immediately looked at you.
"I've never had alcohol before." Your eyebrows shot up.
"You've never drank?" He shook his head.
"Not once."
"Even back on Earth?" Another shake of his head.
"My parents weren't really drinkers."
"And?"
He shrugged sheepishly.
"I just... never wanted to."
You looked from him to the glass, then back again. "So..." You pushed it a little closer to him. "First time." Jake eyed the drink like it might bite him.
"It smells..." He leaned closer. "...really strong."
"It is."
"I don't know if this is a good idea."
"You don't have to drink it."
He stared at it for another few seconds.
"...No." A determined look crossed his face. "I've already traveled through space." He picked up the glass. "I can handle one drink." You tried very hard not to smile.
"That's the spirit."
"I don't know if that's the right choice of words."
He took an impossibly tiny sip. For half a second, nothing happened. Then his entire face scrunched up. His eyes squeezed shut. His shoulders lifted. He coughed once before frantically grabbing the glass of water Arthur had somehow already placed beside him. You burst into laughter. Jake drank half the water in one go before looking at you in disbelief.
"People..." He coughed again. "...drink that on purpose?"
"They do."
"Why?"
"I've wondered the same thing."
"It burns."
"A little."
"A little?"
He looked horrified. "It feels like I swallowed fire."
Arthur folded his hands neatly on the counter. "This particular beverage is considered relatively approachable."
Jake looked back down at the amber liquid. "I think I'll stick with juice."
"Probably a wise decision."
You spent the next hour talking with Arthur about nothing in particular while Jake slowly became less nervous. Every now and then he'd ask Arthur another earnest question, whether androids dreamed, whether he ever got bored standing behind the bar, whether he knew everyone's names aboard the ship, and Arthur answered each one with the same calm sincerity.
Watching Jake slowly relax, watching the uncertainty melt away into genuine curiosity, you found yourself smiling more than you had in months.
It occurred to you then that this was the first normal afternoon you'd had since waking up. Or at least, as normal as two stranded passengers and an android bartender could make it.
-
The days slowly stopped feeling like days. Morning became afternoon, afternoon became evening, and before you knew it, several weeks had passed since Jake had woken up. The Aurora no longer felt quite as empty.
Jake had changed. Not dramatically, but the nervousness that had clung to him during those first few days had begun to disappear. He smiled more now. He laughed without immediately looking embarrassed afterward. He teased you. It wasn't often, but every now and then he'd say something with the tiniest hint of sarcasm before breaking into a grin when he realized you'd caught on. It suited him. You liked this version of him. Well, you liked every version of him.
Over those weeks, you'd learned dozens of little things about him. His favorite ice cream was chocolate, though he'd insist vanilla was "criminally underrated." He couldn't handle spicy food at all, despite confidently claiming he could before immediately reaching for three glasses of water after one bite. He hummed absentmindedly whenever he was concentrating, usually without realizing he was doing it. He was really good at math and enjoyed things all science. He loved rainy weather back on Earth because it reminded him of staying inside with his sisters and watching old movies together. He always read the little descriptions underneath paintings whenever you wandered through the ship's art gallery, even though there was nobody around to appreciate them besides the two of you.
He couldn't whistle. No matter how hard he tried. The first time he admitted it, he'd spent nearly twenty minutes attempting to prove himself wrong while you laughed so hard your stomach hurt. By the end of it, he'd only managed to make strange little puffing noises.
"It sounds like you're trying to call a very disappointed bird," you told him.
"I don't even think birds would answer that."
"They'd probably feel bad for you."
"I don't need your pity."
"You absolutely do."
He'd rolled his eyes before laughing right along with you. Moments like those happened almost every day now. You found yourself looking forward to them. The truth was... you were beginning to look forward to him. You tried not to think too hard about it. There wasn't much point. You were two people stranded on a ship for eighty nine years. Of course you were growing attached. That's all it was. Probably. Still... every time he smiled at you, your heart insisted on making things unnecessarily complicated.
He was unintentionally funny. Kind in a way that felt effortless. Gentle. Patient. Almost impossibly pure. He saw the good in everything. In everyone. Even after everything that had happened to him.
One thing became very clear after the first week: Jake loved sports. The Aurora had an enormous recreation center complete with indoor courts, climbing walls, running tracks, and even a surprisingly convincing soccer field covered in artificial turf beneath a projected blue sky. You'd never been particularly athletic. Jake, unfortunately, was.
"Again?" he asked, already jogging backward across the field with the soccer ball balanced against his foot. You bent over, hands on your knees as you caught your breath.
"Jake..." You looked up at him. "You're just going to win again."
"I won't."
"You said that last time."
"I mean it this time."
"You beat me six to one." He scratched the back of his neck. A sheepish grin spread across his face.
"One more round?" You groaned dramatically.
"I don't know why I keep agreeing to this."
"I'll go easy on you."
"You said that last time."
"I really mean it now." You narrowed your eyes suspiciously.
"...Fine."
The game started again. Jake really did seem to be taking it easier. He gave you more space, passed the ball slower, and even let you steal it once.
"You're being obvious," you called.
"I'm not!"
"You absolutely are!"
"I'm just playing differently."
"You pity me."
"I do not pity you. I respect your determination."
"That's even worse!"
He laughed so hard he nearly lost possession. You took your chance. Without really thinking, you darted forward and kicked the ball as hard as you could. It rolled cleanly past him. Jake reached for it, and missed. The ball bounced into the net.
"I SCORED!" Your voice echoed across the empty stadium. "I ACTUALLY SCORED!" You threw both arms into the air, laughing as you ran in a completely unnecessary victory lap around the field.
Jake stared after you before breaking into laughter himself. "You did!"
"I DID!"
"I wasn't expecting that!"
"Neither was I!"
You practically skipped back toward him, still grinning from ear to ear. "I won!"
"You scored one goal."
"I won in my heart."
"I'll allow it."
Without thinking, you threw your arms around him. The hug only lasted a second. Maybe two. Then reality caught up with both of you. You immediately stepped back.
The tips of his ears slowly turned pink. You felt warmth rush into your own face. Neither of you quite knew where to look. Jake rubbed the back of his neck. "Um... nice job." His smile was small. Shy. Entirely too cute.
"Thanks," you mumbled.
The swimming pool became another favorite. Some afternoons the two of you raced from one end to the other, both insisting the other had gotten a head start. Other days you floated on your backs beneath the artificial sky, watching clouds drift across the ceiling projection while talking about absolutely nothing. Sometimes the conversations lasted for hours. Sometimes you didn't talk at all. You simply splashed water at each other until one of you surrendered. Jake was surprisingly competitive. He celebrated every victory like he'd just won an Olympic medal. You made sure to splash him extra hard whenever that happened.
Being around him made something inside you feel lighter. For the first time since waking up aboard the Aurora, you caught yourself laughing without forcing it. Running through empty hallways just because he challenged you to a race. Trying new foods neither of you had ever tasted before. Building ridiculous pillow forts in the observation lounge during movie nights. You hadn't felt that carefree in years. He made you feel like a kid again.
More importantly, you realized you no longer dreaded the moments when you returned to your room. Not because you enjoyed being alone, but because you knew you wouldn't be alone for long. There was always tomorrow. Another game. Another conversation. Another adventure through some unexplored corner of the ship.
Jake was still adjusting, though. You could see it. Some habits never changed. Every few days, usually when he thought you were busy elsewhere, he'd disappear into the passenger hibernation chamber. You'd find him standing beside the same row of pods, his family's row. Sometimes he stood there quietly. Other times, he talked. You couldn't hear what he was saying. Maybe he was telling them about his day. Maybe he simply needed someone to talk to.
You never asked. You quietly turned around every time and gave him the privacy he deserved. Because you understood. If the people you loved were still here, even asleep, you thought you'd probably do the same.
-
Every morning followed the same routine. You would wake up just before the artificial sunrise reached its brightest point, get dressed, and meet Jake in the dining hall for breakfast.
Sure enough, when you stepped into the dining hall, Jake was already standing by one of the food dispensers, absentmindedly scrolling through the breakfast menu. He looked up the moment he heard your footsteps.
"Morning."
"Morning."
You grabbed yourself a tray before joining him. "So," you said, looking over at him, "what's the plan today? Basketball?" you suggested. "Or maybe another soccer rematch so you can embarrass me again?" A grin spread across his face. He thought for a moment.
"Maybe..." His shoulders lifted in a small shrug. "...a movie?"
"A movie?"
He nodded. "I think today's a movie day." You smiled.
"Okay." You reached for a bowl, letting the dispenser fill it with cereal. "Movie it is."
Then, you noticed Jake glance toward the digital clock mounted high on the wall. 9:47 AM. November 15. His eyes lingered there. You followed his gaze.
"What is it?" Jake didn't answer immediately.
"It's November fifteenth."
"...Yeah?" You looked back at him. "I'm not following." He hesitated before rubbing the back of his neck.
"It's my birthday."
You blinked. "...What?" He smiled sheepishly.
"My birthday." Your eyes widened.
"Jake!"
He looked almost guilty. "What?"
"It's your birthday?"
"...Yeah."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"To be honest I didn't even realize it."
"Happy birthday!" His smile grew just a little wider.
"Thanks."
"No, hold on." You pointed at him dramatically. "Now I have to get you something."
"What?" His eyes widened. "No."
"Yes."
"You don't have to."
"I absolutely do." He laughed, already shaking his head. "Really. I don't need anything."
"There has to be something you want."
"There isn't."
"Jake."
"I'm serious." He smiled apologetically. "Anything I could possibly need is already here." You frowned.
"...That is true." He leaned against the counter.
"I'm not really a materialistic person."
"I've noticed." He shrugged.
"I don't know. I've never really cared about stuff."
You rolled your eyes. Somewhere in the back of your mind, ideas began forming. If he didn't want something... maybe you could give him an experience instead. Something he'd remember. By the time breakfast ended, you already knew exactly what you were going to do.
~
"Where are we going?" Jake looked around curiously as the two of you walked through an unfamiliar section of the ship.
"You'll see."
"You've said that for the last five minutes."
"And I'll keep saying it." He sighed dramatically.
"I don't like surprises."
"You literally have no idea if that's true."
"I have a feeling."
The corridors gradually became more industrial than the rest of the ship. The polished floors gave way to reinforced metal walkways, and large maintenance doors lined the walls. Jake frowned. "I've never been over here."
You stopped in front of a thick steel door. With a quiet hiss, it slid open. Inside the room stood two sleek white EVA suits secured neatly against the wall. Jake stared. "...Spacesuits?" You smiled.
"Yep." He looked at you. Then back at the suits.
"Why?"
"Just trust me." He laughed nervously.
"For what?"
"You ask too many questions."
"I think they're reasonable questions." You walked over and removed one of the suits from its rack.
"Come on." He stayed where he was.
"...Are we... going outside?" You only smiled.
"Put the suit on." His eyebrows climbed higher.
"Outside outside?" You nodded. Jake blinked several times.
"You're joking."
"I'm not."
"You've been... outside?"
"A few times."
"Into space?"
"Mhm." He looked between you and the suit.
"I don't know if I like this."
"You will."
"I don't even know what's happening."
"You don't need to." He stared at you for another moment before sighing.
"...Okay."
"You trust me?" His answer came without hesitation. "Yeah." That made your smile soften.
"Then put the suit on."
Several minutes later, the two of you stood fully suited. Your helmets locked into place with a mechanical click. The suits were surprisingly comfortable despite their size. You led Jake into a much smaller chamber beyond the suit room. The heavy door sealed shut behind you with a deep metallic thud. Jake immediately looked over his shoulder. "That doesn't sound reassuring."
A mechanical arm extended from the wall. With practiced precision, it attached a safety tether to the back of your suit. Another arm secured one to Jake's. He watched the cable connect with wide eyes. "...What's this?"
"Safety line."
"Oh."
An automated voice echoed throughout the chamber. "External excursion sequence initiated. Suit integrity confirmed. Safety tethers secured. Magnetic boots engaged. Airlock depressurization beginning." A low rumble vibrated beneath your feet.
Jake looked around nervously. "What are we about to do?" You turned toward him. Your voice remained calm.
"Jake." He looked at you.
"Do you trust me?" He swallowed before nodding.
"Is this safe?" he asked. You couldn't help smiling.
"I swear."
The rumbling stopped. A light above the outer door turned green. Then, with a slow mechanical groan, the airlock opened. Space stretched endlessly before you. No matter how many times you stepped outside, it stole your breath away. The Aurora curved beneath your feet like a gleaming silver city drifting through eternity. Endless panels of polished metal reflected distant starlight, disappearing around the immense body of the ship until they vanished from sight.
Beyond it... nothing. No up. No down. Only infinity. The stars were unlike anything visible through the observation windows. Without glass between you and the universe, they felt impossibly close. Countless suns scattered across an ocean of darkness, burning steadily against the endless black. There was no wind. No sound. Only silence. The kind of silence that felt ancient. The kind that reminded you just how unimaginably small you really were.
Jake didn't move. He simply stared. His visor reflected thousands of tiny stars. "...Wow." The word barely escaped him. You smiled.
"I know."
He took one slow step forward. The magnetic boots clicked softly against the hull. Then another. His head turned in every direction at once. "I..." He couldn't finish the sentence. There weren't words for this. You weren't sure there ever would be. Together, you walked along the surface, your boots rhythmically locking and releasing with each step.
Eventually you stopped. Jake was still silently admiring the view. You glanced down at the controls on your forearm. With one press of a button, your magnetic boots disengaged. The pull beneath your feet disappeared instantly. You floated a few inches above the hull.
Jake looked over. "...Wait." You grinned.
"You trust me, right?" He looked uncertain.
"...Yes."
You gently reached over and switched off the magnets on his suit as well. His eyes widened. Before he could say anything, you grabbed both of his forearms. He looked at you in confusion. "What are—"
You leaned backward, taking him with you. For one heart stopping moment, the two of you fell away from the ship. Jake jammed his eyes shut. His entire body tensed. Then, the safety tethers caught. Instead of falling, you floated. Weightless. Suspended together in the middle of space.
Jake cautiously opened one eye. Then the other. His breath caught. The ship floated above you now, impossibly massive against the stars. The two of you drifted gently beneath it, tethered together while the endless universe surrounded you from every direction. There was no ground anymore. No sky. Only stars. Everywhere.
Jake slowly turned in place, the smallest movement sending him spinning gently through the void. His laughter crackled through your helmet speakers. Not nervous laughter. Pure wonder. "I can't believe this..." His voice was barely above a whisper. "It feels..." He searched for the words. "...like flying."
You watched him drift slowly beside you, arms spread as though he wanted to embrace the entire universe. Seeing his expression made every bit of this worth it. He looked happier than you'd ever seen him. The stars reflected in his visor as he smiled so widely his cheeks nearly reached his eyes. For a long while, neither of you spoke. You simply floated together. Two impossibly small people surrounded by an impossibly large universe.
Eventually, with some reluctance, you reeled yourselves back toward the ship using the tether lines before reengaging your magnetic boots. The walk back to the airlock felt strangely quiet.
Once the chamber repressurized and the inner door opened, Jake immediately removed his helmet. He took one enormous breath. "My heart..." He laughed breathlessly. "My heart is still pounding." You removed your own helmet, smiling as fresh recycled air filled your lungs again.
"I know." He ran both hands through his hair.
"That..." He shook his head. "That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen."
"I figured you'd like it."
"Like it?" He laughed again. "I don't even know how to describe that."
The two of you began removing the rest of the suits. "How many times have you been out there?" he asked.
"Just a few." You carefully hung your suit back on its rack. "It's the one thing on this ship I don't think I'll ever get tired of." Jake listened quietly. "It always reminded me..." you continued, "...how small everything really is." You looked toward the closed airlock doors. "When you're surrounded by something that enormous, your problems don't feel quite so heavy anymore."
"I don't think your problems are little." You met his eyes. Something about the quiet sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten. A small smile found its way onto your face.
"Thanks."
The room fell comfortably silent. Then you nudged his shoulder lightly. "So... happy birthday. I hope you liked your present." Jake smiled. There wasn't even a hint of hesitation when he answered. "I loved it." He looked around the room one last time before turning back toward you. "I don't think I'll ever forget today."
The look he gave you was intense. He didn't break eye contact for a second, and as he stepped a little closer, you did the same. He got really close, but he didn't quite close the gap, so you took the lead and leaned in.
Your lips finally touched in a soft, innocent kiss. You tried to deepen it, but Jake suddenly pulled away. His face was bright red.
"Sorry," he admitted, sounding a bit breathless. "I've never kissed anyone before."
You let out a little laugh. You were honestly surprised since Jake was so good looking and had such an attractive personality, but you didn't want to make a big deal out of it.
"That's okay," you told him with a smile. "I'll teach you."
You leaned in and kissed him again. When you tried to deepen it with your tongue, he flinched slightly, surprised by the sensation, but he caught on quickly. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you in tight, the kiss deepening as you both lost yourselves in the moment.
~
The mood shifted as you both ended up back in his room, collapsing onto the bed. Whatever nerves Jake had left were being drowned out by the sheer heat of the moment.
You were on top of him now as you both made out passionately. You couldn't get enough of him, your hands roaming everywhere, tangled in his hair, gripping the back of his neck, tracing the lines of his shoulders.
Jake was a mess under you. Every time you shifted or pressed your weight into him, he let out a soft, needy whine right into your mouth. He was completely overwhelmed, his inexperienced nature making every touch feel like an electric shock to his system.
You pulled back for a moment, wanting to see the effect you were having on him. The sight was perfect. Jake was panting, his lips glossy and swollen from the kissing, his eyes half lidded and hazy with desire. He stared up at you with a look of pure, unfiltered want.
To tease him, you shifted your hips, grinding experimentally against him. Jake’s head snapped back into the pillow, a loud groan escaping his throat. There was no denying it now, you could feel him rock hard, pressing against right where you needed him.
"What's wrong, Jake?" you whispered, a playful smirk on your lips as you ground against him again.
"Please..." he whined, his voice straining. He glanced down at his lap, where you were seated, his face flushed with a mix of desperation and shyness.
"Please what?" you teased.
He looked back up at you, his expression vulnerable. "I've... I've never..."
You knew exactly what he was trying to say. He was terrified and excited all at once. You softened your expression, leaning down to kiss his cheek. "It's okay. We can take it slow."
"I'm just... I'm not ready for that yet," he admitted breathlessly, "but I don't want to stop."
You admired his honesty. Instead of pushing him, you gave him a knowing look. "Here, I'll do something else for you then."
You slowly crawled down his body, the heat of his skin radiating against you. Jake’s breath hitched as you reached his waist and deftly unbuckled his jeans. As you slid the denim down, you reached for the waistband of his underwear and pulled them down in one smooth motion.
The moment he was freed, it sprang forward, slapping against his abdomen with a heavy thud. He was impressively thick and veiny, pulsing with a need that matched his expression. Jake immediately looked away, his face turning a deep shade of crimson as he covered his eyes with one hand, completely mortified by his own arousal.
You, on the other hand, were beyond excited. You stared at him for a second, admiring the view, before leaning in. You gave the very tip an experimental, slow lick.
Jake completely lost it. His hand flew from his face to grip the sheets, his fingers digging deep into the fabric as he shuddered violently. He had never been touched like that, and the sudden spark of pleasure sent him into a total state of shock. The moment your lips first touched him fully, Jake practically jumped. He let out a loud, startled gasp, his hips jerking instinctively.
As you finally took him into your mouth, Jake practically jumped, a loud, startled gasp tearing from his throat as his hips jerked instinctively. He had never felt anything like this, and the sudden, wet warmth surrounding him was almost too much to handle.
You started slow, swirling your tongue around the crown, teasing the sensitive ridge before sliding down to take as much of him as you could. The moment you created a tight seal and began to suck, Jake’s composure completely shattered. He let out a loud, unrestrained moan that echoed through the room.
Every flick of your tongue against the underside of his shaft sent another jolt through his system. You played with the rhythm, alternating between deep, greedy gulps and light, teasing licks that made him whimper. He was a whirlwind of reactions, one second he was shaking with a desperate need for more, and the next he was gasping, "Too much... it's too much," though his hips were subconsciously pushing back against you, begging for the friction.
Every time you used your hand to massage the base while your mouth worked the top, he let out a series of sharp, needy hitches in his breath, his voice cracking as he called out your name in a fragmented, breathless plea. You could see him trembling, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. A playful, seductive glint entered your eyes as you whispered, "Yeah... do you like that, Jakey?"
Jake couldn't even find the words to answer. He just nodded his head frantically, a pathetic, needy whine escaping him as he murmured a breathless, "Mhm... please..." His eyes were glazed over, completely lost in the sensation, his body practically vibrating with need.
You dove back down, increasing the pace and the suction. You focused on the most sensitive spots, your tongue swirling relentlessly around the head while your hand tightened its grip at the base. Jake’s reactions reached a fever pitch, he was no longer just moaning, he was practically sobbing with pleasure, his hips bucking wildly against your mouth.
"I'm... I'm gonna—!" he choked out, his voice a strained whisper.
The warning was all you needed. You sucked harder, taking him as deep as you could, swirling your tongue in a way that pushed him over the edge. Jake let out a loud, guttural cry, his entire body locking up in a violent shudder as he finally peaked.
He came in powerful, hot surges, filling your mouth with thick, salty heat. Jake let out a long, shaky moan that trailed off into a series of broken whimpers, his muscles twitching rhythmically as he spent himself, his chest heaving as he stared up at the ceiling in a state of absolute, blissful shock.
~
Now the lights had long since dimmed into the ship's evening setting. The two of you lay side by side on top of the blankets, the room quiet except for the steady hum of the ship. Beyond the massive window, endless stars drifted silently past, the darkness broken only by distant pinpricks of light. It was strange how quickly this had become normal.
You turned your head slightly toward him. "Can I ask you something?"
Jake looked over. "Yeah."
"You've never kissed anyone before? I mean… before me?" His ears turned pink almost instantly.
"...No." You couldn't help smiling.
"So... you never dated anyone back on Earth?" He shook his head.
"No."
"Why not?" He shrugged, staring up at the ceiling.
"I don't know. I just..." He scratched the back of his neck. "Never really wanted to." You blinked at him.
"That's kind of impressive." He laughed quietly.
"I guess."
You studied him for another moment before asking, "Have you ever liked someone? Like... had a crush on a girl?" He thought about it.
"Once, I guess. When I was little."
"That's it?"
"Yeah."
"You've seriously gone your whole life without liking anyone?" He nodded.
"I guess so."
"Huh." You leaned back against your pillow. "You're weird."
"I've been told."
You smiled to yourself, deciding not to question it any further. For a while neither of you spoke. The silence settled comfortably around the room again. Eventually Jake broke it. "...Thank you." You looked over.
"For what?"
"For everything." He kept his eyes on the ceiling. "This was the best birthday I've ever had."
You stared at him. "No way."
"I'm serious." His smile was small but genuine. "I mean it." He paused before continuing. "And thank you for being so understanding."
"About what?"
"Everything." He let out a quiet breath. "This whole situation." His voice grew softer. "If the roles were reversed, I honestly don't know what I'd do. You've been dealing with this by yourself for months. That's really brave. I don't think I could've lasted that long alone. I really appreciate everything you've done for me."
For a second you didn't know what to say. Then you smiled. "Of course." You looked out toward the stars. "I'm honestly just glad you're here. It's not so lonely anymore." Your smile faded slightly. "Even if I really wish this never happened to you."
Jake was quiet. "Yeah." He looked back toward the ceiling. "I wish it hadn't happened too." A small pause. "But... I'm glad I'm here."
Your eyebrows lifted. "Really?" He nodded slowly.
"Yeah." Another silence stretched between you. "I've actually been enjoying spending time with you a lot more than I thought I would." A tiny smile tugged at your lips. "And sometimes... I think about everything. My family. The trip. What would've happened if I stayed asleep." He swallowed. "And sometimes I wonder if... maybe this is better."
You frowned. "What do you mean?" He stared at the ceiling.
"My family didn't really have much. They worked really hard just so we could all come here." You listened carefully. "I always felt like there wasn't enough to go around. So when they eventually landed..." He forced out a small smile. "...they can focus on my sisters."
Your heart sank. "Jake..." He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal.
"They'll have one less person to worry about."
"What?" you said immediately. "No. Don't say that." He looked over. "They love you. I'm sure they'd give anything to have you there with them. They're not better off without you."
His expression softened. "I know. I know they love me. I miss them." A faint sadness crossed his face. "I wish it could've worked out like that." He looked away. "But I can't really help feeling the way I do."
You reached over without thinking, resting your hand lightly against his. His eyes dropped to it. "I'm really grateful for you," he said quietly. You smiled. "I'm really grateful for you too." Your thumb brushed gently across the back of his hand. "I really like you, Jake. I don't know what I'd do without you anymore."
He looked at you for a long moment. The corners of his mouth lifted into the softest smile. "Me too."
-
The next few days passed quietly. Today, after spending most of the morning wandering the ship together, the two of you had gone your separate ways for a few hours. Jake had mentioned wanting to explore one of the observation decks you'd shown him, while you'd decided to finally do something productive besides eating and watching movies.
Your yoga mat lay stretched across the floor of your cabin. Both hands pressed against the mat as you leaned into a splits, taking a slow breath. The familiar routine helped clear your mind.
You were halfway through another stretch when—knock.
You paused. "...Come in?"
Nothing. You frowned. Another soft tap sounded against the door. Curious, you stood up and padded across the room. Just as you reached it, something white slid underneath. Then a pen. You blinked. "What?"
You crouched down, picking up the folded note. Written in slightly messy handwriting were only four words: Dinner tonight? One hour? Beneath it were two little boxes.
☐ Yes ☐ No
You stared at it for a second before laughing. "Seriously?" Shaking your head with an amused smile, you uncapped the pen. With unnecessary dramatic flourish, you checked the box beside Yes. You folded it again and slid it back beneath the door.
The paper had barely crossed the other side before—shffft. It vanished. Almost instantly.
"Yes!" came a muffled voice from the hallway, followed by the unmistakable sound of quick footsteps hurrying away. Tap tap tap tap tap.
You couldn't help it. You burst into laughter. "You're such a dork," you called through the door, though you doubted he could still hear you. The hallway had already gone quiet again. Still smiling, you shook your head. Somehow he'd managed to make asking someone to dinner feel like passing notes in elementary school. You folded your yoga mat away before making your way into the bathroom. "Guess I should get ready."
An hour later, you stepped into one of the Aurora's upscale restaurants. Crystal chandeliers hung overhead, casting warm golden light across polished wooden floors. Floor to ceiling windows framed the endless stars outside, while neatly set tables stretched throughout the elegant dining room. Every single chair was empty. Except one.
Jake stood the moment he spotted you. He'd actually brushed his hair this time. You smiled. "You clean up nicely." His ears immediately turned pink.
"...Thanks. You too." He quickly pulled out your chair. You looked at him.
"Oh?" He shrugged awkwardly.
"I saw someone do it in a movie once." You laughed as you sat down.
"Thank you." He took the seat across from you, looking oddly pleased with himself.
For a moment he glanced around the completely deserted restaurant. Then he leaned in conspiratorially. "You know..."
"What?"
"It was really hard getting this reservation." You blinked.
"Was it?" He nodded gravely.
"Months of planning."
"Oh wow."
"I had to pull a lot of strings."
"I can imagine."
"The hostess almost turned me away." You looked around the empty room.
"There... isn't a hostess."
"I know. It was brutal." You snorted.
"Poor you."
"I even got us the best table." You glanced around. "They're... all the best table."
"Exactly. I had options."
You laughed so hard you had to cover your face. "I can't believe you're committing to this bit."
"I'm committed now."
"You really are."
The waiter robot approached your table with perfect timing, placing two beautifully prepared plates in front of you before silently rolling away again. Jake watched it disappear. "See? Very professional. The service here is incredible."
"I'll be sure to leave a five star review."
For a while, conversation gave way to eating. The food was genuinely incredible. You hadn't appreciated just how nice it was to sit across from someone during a meal until now.
A comfortable silence settled between you again. Neither of you felt the need to fill every second anymore. It was enough simply sitting together. Jake smiled to himself as he took another bite. "I'm really glad you checked yes."
You looked up. "You would've cried if I checked no." His eyes widened.
"I would've been devastated. I even had a backup plan."
"And what was that?"
"I was gonna slide another note under your door asking if you were sure." You laughed.
You smiled so hard your cheeks hurt. "You know… I think I'd check yes every time." Jake's smile lingered.
"Good."
~
Once dinner was over, the hallway stretched ahead, quiet and dim. Jake walked beside you, as you approached his room.
"I think I'm ready."
His voice came out thin, almost a whisper. You turned and found him standing rigid two steps behind you. His eyes were fixed somewhere around your collarbone.
"Ready for what?"
The question left your mouth before your mind caught up. Then you saw it, the flush crawling up from his collar, the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. The silence stretched, and in it, everything clicked into place.
Your hand found his, warm and trembling, and you laced your fingers together. You didn’t wait, you just turned toward his door, and stepped inside with him.
The door clicked shut behind you.
The bed dipped under you two as you sat, your thigh pressed against his through the denim of his jeans. Your fingers found the hem of your dress and you pulled it over your head in one clean motion, tossing it somewhere behind you. The clasp of your bra came next, a practiced flick of the wrist, and then you were bare from the waist up.
Jake went still. His lips parted, but no sound came. The blush that had been creeping up his neck flooded his cheeks, his ears, the top of his chest. His eyes tracked down from your face to your collarbones, then lower, and his breath caught audibly. He stared at your perky breasts with the wide eyed reverence of someone standing before something he'd only ever imagined. His hands stayed frozen in his lap, fingers curled into loose fists.
"Do you wanna touch me?" Your voice came out softer than you’d intended, almost a murmur.
His throat bobbed. "Can I?"
"Of course." You smiled.
A shaky exhale escaped him, something between a laugh and a release of held breath. You reached for his wrists, your fingers circling the warm skin just below his palms, and lifted his hands from his lap. You guided them up, slow and deliberate, until his palms hovered an inch from your breasts. Then you pressed them forward.
His hands met your flesh and he gasped, a small, punched out sound. His palms were warm and slightly damp, and they trembled against you as if he were holding something fragile. For a long moment he didn't move. Then his fingers curled, tentatively, into the soft weight of you. He squeezed, gentle at first, then with a little more pressure, his palms molding around the shape of you. His eyes were fixed on where his hands met your skin, his mouth slightly open.
"They're—" he started, then stopped, as if words were inadequate.
You let him explore. His fingers kneaded your flesh with a clumsy, earnest rhythm, learning the give and spring of you. His thumbs dragged across your nipples by accident, once, then again, and each time his eyes flicked up to your face, checking, questioning. The third time, you let your breath hitch audibly, and he froze.
"Did that hurt?"
"No," you said. "It felt good."
Something shifted behind his eyes. He drew his thumbs back over your nipples, this time on purpose, and watched your face as he did it. When your eyelids fluttered, he did it again. Then his fingers changed position, thumb and forefinger closing around one nipple with the careful precision of someone handling something precious. He pinched, lightly, and your sharp inhale made his pupils dilate.
"Like that?" he whispered.
"Just like that."
He tried the other nipple, testing the pressure, squeezing a little harder and then easing off when your breath caught. His other hand still cupped your breast, thumb stroking absently over the soft skin. The flush on his face had deepened, but his hands were steadier now, less tremor in the fingers that held you.
"They're so soft," he whispered, his hands still full of you.
You pushed him gently, both palms flat against his chest, and Jake fell back onto the mattress with a soft grunt of surprise. His eyes went wide, but you were already swinging a leg over his hips, settling your weight across his thighs. The heat of him pressed up through his jeans, hard and unmistakable. You leaned down and pressed your mouth to the center of his chest, then lower, kissing a slow path down his stomach while your fingers worked his belt open. His breath came in shallow, ragged pulls.
"Can I—" he started.
"You can just lie here," you murmured against his skin. "Let me."
You tugged his jeans and boxers down together, freeing him. It sprang up against his belly, flushed dark at the tip, already slick with a bead of pre-cum. You wrapped your hand around him and Jake's whole body jerked. You pumped slowly, base to tip, your palm growing wet with him, and his hands fisted in the sheets.
"God," he choked. "That's—"
"I know." You stroked him again, watching his face twist. "I've got you."
You rose up on your knees, positioned yourself above him, and reached down to guide him. The head of his cock nudged against your cunt, and you were so wet already that the first inch slid in with a slick, obscene sound. Jake gasped, his hands flying to your hips. You sank down slowly, inch by inch, letting your weight carry him deeper until he filled you completely. Your slick coated his shaft, dripping down onto his balls.
You rolled your hips once, grinding your clit against his pubic bone, and the wet squelch of your cunt around his cock made him groan. You did it again, finding a rhythm, steady and deep. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave marks.
"Y-yes," he stammered, and his hips bucked up into you involuntarily, a stuttering, desperate thrust. "Yes, yes—"
“So good Jake,” you groaned.
You felt him twitch inside you, his cock throbbing, and then his whole body seized. He cried out, a raw, broken sound, and his hips jerked upward as he came, hot cum pulsing deep inside your cunt. The sensation of it, the wet heat flooding you, the frantic buck of his hips, sent a shock through your own body. Your walls clenched around him rhythmically, and you ground down hard, whimpering, your own orgasm hitting in a sudden, blinding wave. Your slick dripped down his shaft, soaking his balls, as you rode him through it, gasping, until the last aftershock faded and Jake's cock twitched inside you, his cum warm against your walls.
You eased your hips up, and Jake’s softening cock slipped out of you with a wet, slow sound. His semen trickled down your inner thigh, warm and thick, as you collapsed against his chest. You two breathed together, ragged and spent, the room quiet around you.
Jake’s arms came around you, no hesitation now. His palms stroked your back in long, slow passes, like he was memorizing your skin. You felt his heart hammering under your cheek, gradually slowing.
You both lay tangled in the dim lamplight, sweat cooling, bodies still pressed close. Something had shifted, the nervousness gone, replaced by a quiet, settled wonder.
-
Life aboard the Aurora was good. Not perfect. There were still mornings when you woke up and forgot where you were for a split second. Still nights when the endless stretch of stars outside your window reminded you just how far from home you really were. But none of it felt unbearable anymore, because Jake was here. He had become home.
You smiled to yourself as you walked through one of the ship's endless hallways. It was funny. Three months ago you would've given anything to hear another person's footsteps echo through these corridors. Now they echoed beside yours almost every day. You had someone to laugh with. Someone to annoy. Someone to argue over which movie to watch. Someone who knocked on your door with handwritten invitations instead of simply using the intercom because, according to him, "it felt more personal." You had someone who made eighty nine years seem possible.
Life had turned upside down in the strangest way imaginable. If someone had told you back on Earth that you'd wake up alone aboard an interstellar ship decades too early, you would've thought it was the worst thing that could ever happen. And for a while it was. Those first three months had been the hardest of your life. The loneliest. You wouldn't wish it upon anyone. But if living through those months meant eventually meeting Jake, you wouldn't change a thing. Every lonely day had somehow led you here. To him. And somehow, against every odd imaginable, you were grateful.
A few weeks later, you found yourself wandering through one of the ship's maintenance sectors. Jake had disappeared somewhere after insisting he wanted to "learn how literally anything on this ship works”, which left you exploring on your own.
The maintenance rooms weren't nearly as polished as the passenger decks. Bundles of cables lined the walls. Diagnostic terminals blinked softly. Shelves were filled with replacement parts and archived storage drives. You wandered absentmindedly until something caught your eye. A terminal. Its screen hadn't fully gone to sleep. A small notification blinked quietly: Personal Video Log Saved Successfully.
Timestamp: Just a few hours ago.
You frowned. "Jake?"
Curiosity got the better of you as it usually did. You tapped the screen and the recording opened.
Jake appeared almost immediately. He was sitting exactly where you imagined he had been earlier that afternoon, perched awkwardly on a maintenance crate. He looked nervous. He cleared his throat once, then smiled.
"...Hi." He laughed quietly. "I don't really know how to start one of these." His fingers rubbed together. "So... I guess... this is for my family."
He looked down for a moment before continuing. "I know... when you wake up... I'm probably not going to be there." His voice caught slightly. "And I know that's going to be hard. It would've been hard for me too." His smile returned, softer this time. "But... I need you guys to know something. I'm okay." He shook his head. "No." A tiny laugh escaped him. "I'm more than okay." His eyes brightened in a way you'd seen countless times before. "I'm really happy."
Your heart skipped.
"I met someone." His smile became almost impossibly warm. "Her name is..." He paused, smiling to himself before saying your name. "She's incredible. She's smarter than she'll ever admit. She makes fun of me constantly." A grin spread across his face. "She's funny. So patient. So understanding. And" He looked away for a second, almost embarrassed. "She's beautiful."
You swallowed.
"She woke up before me. If she hadn't" He exhaled quietly. "I honestly don't know what would've happened. She turned this giant empty ship into something that actually feels like home. I wasn't alone. So when you wake up, I don't want you worrying about me. I don't want you wondering if I spent my life here by myself." His head shook firmly. "I didn't. I've been happier than I ever thought I could be."
He smiled again. "The funny thing is, I used to think waking up early ruined my life." His eyes drifted toward something just off camera. "Now, I think it gave me one."
A long silence followed. When he spoke again, his voice was almost a whisper.
"I love her."
Your breath caught. There was no hesitation.
"I really do." His smile lingered for another second before he looked back into the camera. "If you ever somehow see this... I hope you're happy too. I love all of you. I'll always love all of you." He reached forward. "This is Jake." A small smile. "Signing off."
contents… 📂 ׄ 𓂂 smau, established relationship, sunghoon is lowk a loser, reader is kinda mean to him but he’s right where he wants to be, sliiightly suggestive
엔하이픈 ⋮ SMAU ˑ MDNI ˑ major suggestion ˑ borderline smut ˑ crack ˑ profanity/mature language! ˑ x reader ˑ reader is a prankster wbk ˑ 14 photos ˑ taglist ˑ masterlist
din tai fung...? (that is not what they thought you were talking about...)
a/n⋮ lets ignore the fact that i haven't posted in 3 weeks... oops..👀 anyways guys sorry if this is shit..! im gonna try to squeeze some more ideas out of my very small brain in the next couple of days to get something out because i need to feed my children😔✌️
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