❥・word count: 17.2k
❥・warnings: cursing, suggestive but no smut (i think that tag is on all my sungchan fics at this point), also i do talk about biting him probably too much, there’s one scene where i have to refer to distance and i use miles im sorry it’s the filthy american in me (convert to km if you must but it’s really not that important)
❥・genre: meet-ugly (like a meet-cute but bad), strangers to lovers, fluff and more fluff good god, forced proximity trope (long car trip, friend group vacation in a cabin, etc.)
❥・author’s note: send help the sungchan brainrot is terminal
“I just don’t trust people that are that hot—Sorry.”
“Are you going to the cabin next week?” Karina asked you, refilling her drink as the two of you chatted in the kitchen of Donghyuck and Mark’s place. The former was throwing a “small get-together” tonight for his birthday, which was already shaping up to be more like the parties you’d attended in undergrad. He’d also invited a hopefully actually small number of your closer friends to spend two weeks in his family’s cabin starting the following Friday.
“Yeah, I’ll be there,” you nodded, opening the fridge to nose around in there for something to mix with your alcohol.
“Do you know who all he invited?”
“I think the usual, right?” You had secured some cranberry juice and seltzer, and brought them back out triumphantly. “Didn’t he text the details to everyone in a group chat? Check who’s in it.”
“Let me see…” She muttered, scrolling through her phone. “You, me, Hyuck, Mark, Ning, Jeno, Jaemin, Shotaro, Anton…”
“Unless it’s a mansion in the woods, it sounds like half of us will be sleeping on the floor,” you scoffed.
“There’s one person in here that I don’t have saved.” She frowned. “Do you?”
You looked at it on your own phone. “There’s two people I don’t have saved. One of them must be Anton, I just met him the other day when Taro brought him around to… whatever, I don’t even remember now.”
“I don’t have the 512 number.”
You saved the other unknown number as Anton. “I don’t have the 512 number either.”
Karina giggled. “Mysterious.”
“Probably another guy Hyuck and Mark met playing pickup.” You shrugged, following her back out to the living room. “I feel like that’s how they meet all their new friends these days.”
“Rina! Y/N!” Ningning suddenly appeared in front of the two of you, grabbing your other friend’s wrist. “Come dance with me!”
Karina looked over at you. “Y/N?”
“Just topped up.” You lifted your drink. “Maybe later. Have fun, guys.”
As they disappeared into the middle of the room, you drifted off to the side, finding a wall to lean against. You took slow sips of your drink, eyes passing over the crowd. You didn’t mind standing by yourself until either your friends were done dancing and found you again, or you spotted someone you’d rather talk to before then.
“Y/N!” Your voice was called from behind you, and you turned around to greet the birthday boy with a wide smile.
“Hyuck!” You went to hug him. “I feel like I haven’t seen you all night!”
“Because you’ve been hiding in the kitchen,” he teased. “I think this is the first time I’ve actually seen you out here.”
You rolled your eyes as you drew back from the hug. “Whatever, I’m here now. Are you having a good birthday?”
“Great!” He beamed. It was then that you noticed he had someone with him, a tall guy hovering awkwardly behind him. Donghyuck went to introduce him, “This is Sungchan, by the way. He also lives in the complex; Mark and I met him playing pickup.”
Of course.
“Sungchan, this is my friend Y/N,” Hyuck then gestured to you.
You nodded to him politely. “Nice to meet you.”
“You too,” he smiled back, a bright, heart-stopping smile. You held onto your drink a little tighter, with both hands.
“Hey! Renjun!” Donghyuck suddenly yelled out. “No killing people on the premises! Choke Jisung outside!”
He took off into the crowd, leaving you with his new friend.
“Anyway, it was nice to meet you, Jungchan, but I’ve got to find my friends.” You slipped away before he could say anything else.
Karina and Ningning were still dancing, and while you briefly debated joining them, you decided against it, heading back to your safe haven instead: the kitchen. It was blissfully empty when you got in there, and you started picking at the bowls of snacks mindlessly.
“That was incredible.” Someone snickered, startling you into dropping a chip onto the floor.
You picked it up, glowering at the newcomer as you went to go throw away the ruined chip into the garbage can. “What are you talking about, Anton?”
“His name is Sungchan, by the way.” He was still laughing, hopping up onto the counter by the bowls of snacks. “Not Jungchan. I happened to have been lucky enough to have overheard that.”
“Oops.” You said flatly, well aware that you didn’t sound very sorry.
“But I’m totally going to use that.”
“You know him from pickup basketball too, I presume?”
“Yup.” He tossed a cheeseball up and caught it in his mouth. “He’s not very good at shooting, but he’s tall, so he’s alright at guarding.”
“Good for him. Or not, I don’t know.”
“So let’s say, hypothetically, I was eavesdropping on the entire conversation—”
“Hypothetically.”
“Of course.” He grinned. “He said like two words to you, and they were barely even hello. Why did you run away like that?”
You sighed, topping off your drink again. After taking a sip, musing over how best to phrase it, you finally decided on, “I just don’t trust people that are that hot—Sorry.”
Anton cocked his head curiously at you. “Who hurt you?”
“Nobody, god.” You rolled your eyes. “You’re so fucking dramatic and for what?”
“Fun and profit, mostly.”
“You hurt Sungchan’s feelings,” Donghyuck declared, blotting out the sun above you.
You closed your book on your thumb to deal with this. You had been reclining on a chair at your apartment complex’s pool reading in peace when your friend appeared out of nowhere. Outside the pool fence you could see his roommate, and two more of your mutual friends, Jaemin and Jeno. Jeno had a basketball under his arm, which made sense, the courts were right next to the pool, they were probably already heading there when they saw you and decided to detour over here to… interrogate you? Harass you?
“Who? What? When?” You squinted up at Donghyuck in confusion.
“My friend. Last night.”
“The tall one? How? Because I didn’t want to talk about the weather or whatever with him?”
“Apologize,” he demanded, crossing his arms. “And get his name right this time. It’s Sungchan. Not Jungchan.”
You scoffed, sitting up straighter in your chair. “This is exactly what I was telling Anton last night, you know. I don’t trust people that are that hot because even if they don’t do anything to abuse their hotness directly, or on purpose, other people will just do things for them anyway.”
“He’s the nicest person I know. Hotness be damned. Apologize.”
“No.”
“Really? This is the moral hill that you’re willing to die on?”
“Yup.”
“You’re a true martyr, Y/N,” Hyuck said sarcastically. “The Second Coming herself.”
“The nicest person you know? Really?” You questioned doubtfully.
“Really. And you were mean to him,” Donghyuck confirmed.
“Including Shotaro?”
“Including Taro.”
“Mark?”
“Mark’s my best friend. Doesn’t mean he’s the nicest person I know,” he retorted.
“Jeno?”
“Literally saw him steal candy from a baby yesterday.”
You blinked. “Wait, seriously?”
“Jisung. Same thing.”
“I’m not apologizing to your friend,” you declared, opening your book again.
“This is the stupidest line you’ve drawn in the sand yet.”
“I’m not going out and bullying him! All I said was that I don’t trust hot people!”
“Flaw in your logic: You’re friends with me,” he pointed out smugly.
“Think on that one again, Hyuck,” you replied snidely, looking down at your book as if you were trying to get back to reading.
“Rude.” He looked back at the other three guys waiting for him, apparently getting an idea. “What about Jeno? He’s like, ridiculously good-looking.”
“I like him just fine. I just don’t trust him, or what people will do for him because he’s stupidly attractive,” you argued.
“It sounds exhausting to be you,” he huffed, turning on his heel and leaving the pool deck.
Later that afternoon, you pulled yourself up out of the pool, heading back towards your chair. Grabbing your towel, you wrapped it around yourself to start drying off before heading back to your apartment. You saw someone walking towards you out of the corner of your eye as you were digging through your bag for your phone.
“Hi.” It was Donghyuck’s tall friend from last night, in workout gear rather than swim trunks. Obviously not here to use the pool.
“Hi.” You wiped a drop of water off your phone screen that had fallen from your nose onto it.
“Do you have a second?”
“Sure.”
He scratched the back of his neck as he focused an apologetic smile on you. “Did I do something or say something? At Donghyuck’s place? Because I’m really—”
“No.”
“—sorry if I did—Wait what?” The smile dropped from his face.
“You didn’t do anything or say anything. You were perfectly nice,” you answered honestly.
“Then it really was what you told Anton?” He asked in disbelief.
Of course, Anton must have told him what you said.
“Look, Sungchan, I’m sorry, I just don’t trust really attractive guys right off the bat.”
“I haven’t done anything to earn your distrust other than—”
“—other than being hot, yeah.” You shrugged. “Even if you really are nice, intentionally or not, people treat you differently just by virtue of you being stupidly hot. Gets in your head, whether you think it has or not.”
“You don’t know me.”
“Not at all.”
“How are you any different then?”
“Different than who?”
“You say that people treat me differently because I’m, in your words, ‘stupidly hot.’” He put the phrase air quotes. “That’s exactly what you’re doing right now.”
“How am I treating you different by not immediately falling at your feet? I don’t do that for average looking guys either.”
“That’s not what I’m asking you to do.”
“Was I rude to you last night? Bitchy? Outright mean or nasty?” You ticked the adjectives off on your fingers. “No, the most you can accuse me of was being a bit curt. And getting your name wrong, that really was my bad.”
He was quiet for a moment, and you took the opportunity to slip your sandals back on and shoulder your tote bag.
“Look, you’re not entitled to my time, attention, or to me,” you told him firmly.
“I didn’t say I was,” he said immediately, his brow furrowing.
“You’ve taken it as a personal affront that I didn’t want to idly chitchat with you last night.”
“I’m just… confused,” Sungchan sighed.
“You’re nice to look at, I’m sure you’re not a complete dud to talk to, it’s probably not torture to make small talk with you at a party. So people do,” you tried to walk him through it. “But it’s not mean for someone to not want to talk to you.”
He was silent again, that same pensive, troubled look on his face, and you found yourself in better spirits than you had been last night.
“This was fun. I would say we should do it again, but I’m afraid I would make you cry and then Hyuck would be really mad at me.” You chuckled, grabbing your keys from your bag. “So, goodbye, Sungchan.”
You were relaxed on your couch that night with a tub of ice cream when a violent banging came at your front door. Pausing the movie you were watching, you rushed to answer it, thinking that it must be the police, or some other kind of emergency. Instead, it was Donghyuck and Mark. You looked at Donghyuck incredulously, the one who had been doing the knocking.
“What is your fucking problem?” He said in lieu of a greeting, throwing his hands up in the air in disbelief.
“What did I do now? Allegedly?” You matched his tone, watching as he started pacing your entryway.
“You know what you did.” Mark was calmer, reminding you of a disappointed parent as he looked at you, his hands on his hips.
“You broke him!” Donghyuck declared.
“Who—Oh, Sungchan?” You finally connected the dots.
“Who else’s soul have you ripped out of their chest and stomped on today?”
“He sought me out,” you defended yourself, crossing your arms.
“And you couldn’t have been a human being and talked to him?”
“We talked. From what you’re saying, it sounds like he didn’t like what I had to say.”
“He’s catatonic!”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“Only slightly. But he’s not well.”
You scoffed, “If one conversation with me is enough to make him spiral, sounds like he had some other stuff going on before I opened my mouth.”
“So you refuse to take responsibility? For any of this?” Donghyuck regarded you wide, crazed eyes, looking like he was at the end of his rope.
“You’re asking me to what? Fix him?” You snorted in disbelief. “I don’t Mommy grown men, sorry.”
“You are infuriating.” He pointed at you accusatorily. “The party I could’ve let slide—”
“No you couldn’t have, you found me literally the next day demanding that I apologize for not wanting to talk to him,” you spat back.
“Not for that! I’m not going to hold a gun to your head and force you to make small talk with him,” he groaned. “I meant the stuff you were telling Anton, in the kitchen. He heard you.”
“All I said was that I don’t trust people that are that hot. Nothing to have a goddamn mental breakdown over!”
“And he wouldn’t have, if you had just, I don’t know, apologized for the misunderstanding and moved on! But no, you have to take everything to this moral extreme! Honestly, I’m finding it hard to remember what’s even likeable about you in the first place right now,” Donghyuck ranted, running his hands through his hair.
“Hyuck, that was a bit far,” Mark finally spoke up again, stepping forward.
“You really want to die on this hill, Y/N?” Donghyuck just went around his roommate, looking you in the eye. “Then fine. Don’t bother coming on the trip.”
“Hyuck, man, come on—” Mark called after him, but Donghyuck had already stormed out of your apartment.
You watched the empty doorway after him, chest heaving as all the words you’d exchanged finally caught up to you. Looking to your friend that you had been left with, you asked quietly, “Do you think I'm in the wrong, Mark?”
He tilted his head back and forth regretfully. “I think… you’re being a bit abrasive.”
“You agree with Hyuck,” you deadpanned.
“Not entirely. I don’t think he should’ve been throwing Sungchan at you so hard. He should’ve known you weren’t going to take it well, which is probably why he did it in such a weird way.”
“What?”
“He was trying to set you up with Sungchan. But knowing how… you… are, he thought he had to do it with some uh, ‘finesse.’” Mark shrugged one shoulder. “Sungchan wasn’t all that hurt after the party, really. A bit bummed that you brushed him off, sure, but he would’ve bounced back. He’s hard to knock down, literally and metaphorically. Hyuck demanded that you go ‘apologize’ to him so that you’d talk to him again. Same thing with Sungchan talking to you at the pool today, Hyuck told him to.”
“Does Sungchan know that Hyuck’s been trying to set us up this whole time?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“So to him, this has been Hyuck setting him up with, apparently, the biggest bitch he knows,” you winced. No wonder he was so confused earlier.
“I mean…” Mark trailed off sheepishly. “He should’ve told you.”
“And I should’ve been fucking normal,” you groaned, rubbing your face.
“An argument can be made for that, yes.”
“What apartment is Sungchan in?”
According to Mark, Sungchan went on a jog every morning at 8:00, and was usually back by 10:00, so you made sure to knock on his front door at 10:15, just in case.
Sungchan opened the door, wiping sweat from his face with a towel as he spoke, “Anton, I thought we agreed on eleven…”
He trailed off when he opened his eyes and saw who was actually on his doorstep.
“Hi, Sungchan,” you greeted him.
“Oh. Hi, Y/N.” He dropped his hand from his face. In the background, you could hear music playing, and smell food being cooked.
“Uhm, are you busy? I can leave, sorry—”
“No, no, it’s fine.” He stepped back, opening the door wider and gesturing you in. You stepped into his apartment with a polite, grateful nod. It looked like he had been in the middle of making breakfast, a blender out on his counter, various fruits on a cutting board, and ingredients sizzling in a pan. He went to pause the music on his phone, and stirred the food that was in the pan. He pointed to one of the stools that was at the bar attached to the kitchen counter. “Do you want to sit?”
“No, thanks,” you shook your head. Shouldn’t take that long. “I just wanted to apologize. I was abrasive, and shouldn’t have been using you to try to draw some moral line in the sand as part of an argument with my friend.”
Sungchan nodded. “Thanks. You did have a point, about the party. I wasn’t used to people not wanting to talk to me, it was a weird experience. But you’re right, I wasn’t entitled to your time.” He went back to the cutting board, chopping up a banana and depositing it into the blender. “Besides, I’m sure you have guys come up to you all the time and you just want to be left alone. No worries.”
You tilted your head curiously. “Why do you say that?”
“People treat you different when you’re stupidly hot, right?” He shrugged, scooping some blueberries into the blender next.
“I wasn’t talking about myself…”
Sungchan just grinned and shrugged again. “So I guess I’ll see you at Hyuck’s family cabin then?”
“No. I was uninvited,” you informed him quietly.
“What? Why?”
“Because of how… poorly I handled this.”
Sungchan’s eyes widened with horror. “What? That’s crazy. I didn’t ask him—”
“Don’t worry, I totally get why he did it. His choice was between the nicest guy he knows—” you pointed to Sungchan, “—and the biggest bitch he knows—” you then pointed to yourself, “—who is a compulsive vibe-harsher. I’d pick you too.”
“Don’t tell me he called you—”
“My words,” you assured him.
“I’ll talk to him. No way you should be uninvited over a misunderstanding like this.” He flashed you an easy-going smile. “I mean, we’ve already worked it out. No hard feelings, right?”
“Right,” you agreed, offering a small smile back. “But really, Sungchan, you don’t have to. He’ll think I just apologized to you to get invited back on the trip.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then there we go,” he said as if it were already decided. “I’ll talk to him.”
[hyuck: you’re un-uninvited]
[hyuck: sungchan will pick you up at 2:00 on friday]
[you: why is he picking me up???]
[hyuck: you’re the only two who need to leave late on friday. the rest of us are heading up in the morning]
[you: i have my own car??]
[hyuck: you’ve got a shitty sedan with 200,000 miles on it that can barely make it over a speed bump. you’re not making it up a mountain]
[hyuck: consider this your exposure therapy]
Sure enough, Friday at 2:00 p.m., there was a knock at your front door, Sungchan on the other side.
“Hey,” you greeted him, stepping back to grab your small rolling suitcase. “You really didn’t have to come get me, I could’ve met you down at your car.”
“I don’t mind. You need any help with your bags?” He offered, watching you also shoulder a duffel bag as you tried to wedge your memory foam pillow under your other arm.
“Where’s your stuff?” You questioned, noticing his empty hands.
“I already packed it in the car.” He reached for your suitcase, and you willingly let him take it. He held another hand out, and you gave him your duffel bag as well. Without even asking, he picked up the tote that was at your feet, too, leaving you with just your pillow and phone. “You got everything?”
You looked around your apartment, thinking hard. “Mmm… I’m pretty sure.”
“Phone, wallet, keys, charger?”
“Check.”
“Pajamas, toothbrush, toothpaste, other toiletries?”
“Check.”
“Let’s do it,” he grinned, leading the way to the front door.
[sungchan: picked y/n up! gonna get some gas on our way out of town if anybody has last minute snack requests. eta 5:00 pm!]
[jeno: 👍]
As some of the others’ snack orders came pouring in, you got one text separately.
[hyuck: be. nice.]
After filling up and triple-checking to make sure you had bought everyone’s food, you and Sungchan were back in his car, a modest-size SUV. He plugged his phone in to charge, then handed it to you.
“Here, you navigate.” The directions to the cabin were already pulled up and started.
“Uh, I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You tried to give it back. “I yap and nap.”
“It’s like five turns total for three hours.” He refused to take it back, starting the car and peeling off. “You can be passenger princess all you want. I even know the first two to get onto the highway on my own. Just need the exit number, the road name, and the house number.”
“Oh god, okay…” You sank down into the passenger seat, clutching his phone with two hands.
“Are you really that nice?” You asked once you had been on the highway for a while. Sungchan and you had been taking turns on aux—right now he had something playing—and there was a comfortable lull in conversation, but you couldn’t help the question that had been nagging at the back of your mind the entire time.
“There is no way for me to answer that and not sound like a dick,” he pointed out. “Either I say no, despite knowing that our mutual friends have apparently hyped up how nice I am to you, in which case it just looks like I’m acting humble. Dick move. Or I say yes, which would make me look like I’m full of myself. Dick move again.”
You looked over at him, feeling the smirk tug at your lips. “You’re fun.”
“Thanks?”
“So if you don’t think you’re that nice, how would you describe yourself?”
“What is this? Speed dating?” He snorted.
“You want to talk about something else? Pick a better topic yourself,” you retorted. “We’re stuck in here for like two more hours.”
“That’s not what I meant,” he quickly went to smooth the conversation over, his tone turning pleasant again. “I just meant… I don’t know how accurate a self-assessment like that would be. Wouldn’t you be biased about yourself? Positive or negative?”
“That’s the fun of it. Even if a person doesn’t describe themselves accurately, understanding how they see themselves can help you understand them a lot better.”
“How would you describe yourself then?”
“I asked you first.” You pointed out. It felt like it had been a long time since you checked the navigation, so you clicked Sungchan’s phone back on to see how much longer you had to go until your exit.
“Fine.” He hummed as he thought. “I like to think I’m… dependable. And a good friend. And patient—”
“That was our exit,” you said abruptly, staring at the constantly refreshing rerouting screen in front of you.
“What?”
“Well, fifty miles ago was our exit…” You winced, watching ‘288’ pass you by. Yours had been 238, apparently. You should’ve known that.
“We missed our exit?” Sungchan clarified.
“Fifty miles back, yeah.”
“And you just decided to tell me?”
“I just noticed! I thought it was 288!” You tried to defend yourself. “I told you not to make me navigate!”
He held a hand out towards you. “Give me the phone.”
“It’s rerouting, I’ll pay attention—”
“Y/N, give me the fucking phone.” His tone was low, with no room for arguing.
You meekly set it in his hand, dropping both your hands in your lap after. He cursed under his breath as he jerked the wheel over, cutting across three lanes of traffic—no turn signal—to narrowly make the next exit. Car horns followed his maneuver, but he ignored them.
“I’m sorry…” You muttered, unable to take the suffocating silence anymore. It was either apologize or tuck and roll, which was honestly still an option at this point.
“Text everyone, let them know we’ll be late,” Sungchan demanded, knuckles red and white around the wheel.
“Okay.” You scrambled to pull out your own phone. “What time should I tell them?”
“Eight.”
You gaped. “Three hours?!”
“Yes, Y/N, we’re on the other side of the fucking mountain now!” He finally snapped and raised his voice, and your eyes went wide. “We can’t just drive through it to get there!”
You took a deep breath, holding his eye contact for a tense, strangling moment before you looked down at your phone to draft your text.
[you: hey guys! uhm, due to an unfortunate series of events, sungchan and i will be a bit late! new eta 8pm]
[anton: did y’all crash or smth wtf]
Again, a separate text from Donghyuck.
[hyuck: i said be nice not fuck him nasty in the backseat for three hours what is wrong with you]
[you: shut UP]
Back in your vacation group chat, you figured you owed everyone an explanation that alleviated Sungchan of any blame.
[you: completely my fault! i’m apparently the worst navigator ever and we missed our exit :/ ]
[rina: damn y/n maintaining the stereotype that women are bad drivers even when backseat driving]
[ningning: the patriarchy thanks u for ur service queen 🫡]
[jeno: i hate when you guys start joking like this, wtf are we supposed to say without looking like assholes]
[hyuck: pour one out for y/n, it must be so hard holding open the gender pay gap like the doors of a subway car all by herself too]
[mark: bro 😭😭😭]
[you: i wish all of you a very fall down the mountain and die <3]
And one more private text from Donghyuck.
[hyuck: okay that’s how i know you didn’t get dicked down]
[hyuck: damn, you really are bad at reading directions huh]
[you: IM BLOCKING YOU]
Sungchan cleared his throat, and you slowly lowered your phone to look over at him again. He smoothly took a curve on the backroad that you were now on, one lane in each direction, that cut between the mountains with trees jutting up on either side of you.
“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Sungchan breathed out, readjusting in his seat. “For yelling at you just now. That’s not… like me.”
“Because you’re so nice?” You couldn’t bite your tongue quick enough, still put off from the spat you’d just had.
“I… guess so,” he sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t know where that came from, honest. I’m really sorry.”
“I told you I shouldn’t navigate.”
“Yeah, I know that now.”
“I’m really, really sorry for missing the exit. I should’ve been paying attention better,” you shouldered the blame that was yours.
“238 and 288 look almost the same. Easy mistake.”
“That added three hours to our drive,” you sighed, leaning your seat back.
“It’s done, no use pointing fingers at each other anymore,” Sungchan shook his head, tapping his thumbs on the steering wheel. “Or yourself.”
“Do you even have enough gas for another three hours? We’re not going to get stuck out here, are we?”
“I’ll stop at the next station I see.”
“How far is the next station?” You mumbled, pulling up your phone to search it up on your own. “Fifty-two miles. How much gas do we have?”
“A hundred miles on the range. See? We’re fine.” Sungchan’s smile dropped off his face right after he said that. “Huh…”
“What?” You sat up as he reached over to put the hazards on and pulled the car off onto the shoulder. “What’s going on?”
“Low tire pressure light,” he frowned. “I checked my tires before I grabbed you from your place. Give me a sec.”
He left the car running as he hopped out, and you watched as he walked around the car, squatting down to inspect each of the tires. Finally, he walked up to your window. You rolled it down to talk to him.
“Back right tire has a nail in it. Slow leak,” he explained. “I’ve got to change it.”
“Aren’t you not supposed to drive spares in certain conditions?” You asked as he reached through the open window to unlock and open the door. “Like on a mountain road or whatever?”
With the door open, he rolled the window back up and reached past you to turn the car off, taking the key out of the ignition. “The road’s paved, it’s not like it’s gravel or anything. I’ll have to drive careful and drive slow on the spare, but it’s either that or we’re stranded out here.”
You eyed the sun that was already descending behind the mountains. “Right. Spare it is.”
“Need you to hold the flashlight if you don’t mind.” He opened the glove box in front of you, rooting around and grabbing a flashlight the length of your forearm.
You accepted it from him. “Got it.”
Sungchan took the tools out of the trunk, as well as the spare tire. He first lifted the car up with the jack, and you became acutely aware of how abandoned the road that you were on really was as not a single other car passed by the entire time. Sungchan stood back up once the car was up to peel off his flannel, tossing it into the trunk with the rest of the tools and the spare waiting to be used.
“Y/N.”
“Huh?” You looked down at where he had gotten back on the ground.
“I need to see the lug nuts, not my arms.”
“Sorry.” You shuffled behind him to be able to point the beam directly on the tire instead of where it had drifted to his mostly bare arms under his t-shirt.
“Much better. Thanks.”
You watched as his hands skillfully unscrewed the lug nuts from the tire with the wrench, holding the first two behind him. “Hold these for me?”
“Oh, sure.” You held your hand out for him to drop them into your palm.
Once you had all five in hand, Sungchan pulled the flat off the car and swapped it out for the spare. You tried not to listen to the darkened forest behind you.
“Lug nuts?” He held his hand up from where he was laying on the ground. You deposited a couple back into his hand for him to screw on at a time.
As he alternated between tightening the nuts and lowering the car down off the jack, you dutifully kept the flashlight pointed on the area he was working on. Finally, the car was back on the ground, and he took the jack out from under it. He rolled the old tire around until he could point out the head of a nail embedded in the tread.
“There’s the little fucker.” Sungchan clicked his tongue before he heaved the tire up into the back. He put away all the tools too, then wiped away beads of sweat that had gathered under his bangs with the hem of his shirt.
He grabbed his flannel, tossing it over his shoulder before he shut the hatch on the trunk. He then turned to you with a bright smile and held his hand up for a high-five. “Alright!”
You high-fived him back mindlessly, pointing the flashlight at your feet now. “I didn’t do anything…”
“What are you talking about? I would’ve been fumbling around in the dark without you.” He nodded his head towards the front of the car. “Come on, we’re going to be late as is. We need to find that gas station. Hopefully they’re open late.”
“Hopefully…”
[you: NEW new eta idfk]
[you: we got a flat and need to fill up again]
[you: we might die out here. if this is my last message, just know that i still wish you all a very fall down the mountain and die <3]
[rina: aw ily2 pookie <33]
[you: sungchan probably says hi or smth]
Hyuck texted you individually again.
[hyuck: oh i know that car smells RANK 🫵🫵🫵]
[you: bitch this tire is as flat as YOUR ASS]
[hyuck: so it’s caked up??? my point is made 😌]
[you: delusion]
“The stars are really pretty out here,” Sungchan’s voice took you away from your phone.
He wasn’t driving as fast as before on account of the spare, making your trip even longer. You looked out the windshield in front of you, at a small patch of sky that you could see peeking out in between the mountains and trees. It was hundreds, if not thousands of stars, infinitely more than you could ever hope to see on a perfectly clear night in the city.
“Wow.” You leaned your arms and head forward on the dash to see it better. “That’s crazy…”
“I bet we’ll see even more once we get to the cabin.”
“If we don’t die out here first,” you half-joked. “How much gas do we have?”
“Sixty miles. And the station should be another ten.”
“Online didn’t have any hours for it…” You muttered. “And this is kind of rural…”
“Which means the owner might live on the property, or they have someone work a night shift for weary travelers just like us.”
“Weary travelers?” You repeated with amusement. “You make it sound like we’re going on some long journey and are seeking lodging at an inn.”
“Some of that’s true.”
“Yeah, yeah. And I won’t knock the weary part either.” You laid back in your seat again, letting out a yawn.
“Take a nap,” Sungchan encouraged you. “We’ll still have a while to drive after refilling, especially since we’re driving slow with the spare.”
“I would, but if the station is open, I gotta pee…” You whispered. “And it’s only like ten miles.”
“Then take a nap after.”
Finally, there was a building in the distance, and miraculously, when Sungchan pulled up to the lone gas pump, the lights inside were even on.
“Sungchan?” You walked around to where he was filling up the car.
“Yeah?” He looked over at you from where he had been watching the numbers on the meter go up.
“Uhm, can you go in with me? Into the store?” You asked almost sheepishly. “I just—”
“Of course.” He agreed with no hesitation, nodding towards the building for you to lead the way. The gas continued pumping on its own as he walked away, and you grabbed his arm as you approached the front door. He didn’t say anything as he opened the door for the two of you.
The attendant behind the counter didn’t even look up from his phone at the two of you as you entered. There was exactly one bathroom at the very back of the small convenience store, and Sungchan walked you back through the cramped aisles of snacks. When you were done, he was waiting just outside the door where you’d left him.
“Good?” He asked quietly, offering you the same arm that you’d taken in the parking lot.
You took it gladly. “Good.”
Sungchan gave the store employee a nod of acknowledgement as the two of you left, and the man once again didn’t even look up at you. Back at the car, the gas had clicked off on its own, and Sungchan replaced the pump. He walked you to the passenger side, opening your door and ushering you in, closing it firmly behind you before getting in on his side and locking it behind him.
“Good?” He asked you again.
“Good,” you confirmed, and he started the car up.
Back on the road, the darkness all around you, steady rumble of the pavement under you, and music Sungchan had playing at a low volume was slowly lulling you back towards sleep again. You let out a rather obvious, violent yawn, not even having enough in you to slap your hand over your mouth all that quick.
“Go to sleep, Y/N,” Sungchan said again.
“But you’ve got to drive more,” you argued. “Who’s going to keep you awake?”
“I’ve got it, promise.” He then chuckled to himself. “You’ve yapped, now it’s time to nap.”
“Mm, alright.” You curled up in your reclined seat as best you could, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Wake me up if you need entertainment to stay awake. Love a good car sing-along…”
Your eyes and limbs still felt heavy and sluggish with sleep when you woke up later that night, and you pulled your blanket tighter to you as you tried to settle back in. You took a deep breath in through your nose, and then immediately remembered that you did not go to sleep with a blanket on you, and that this definitely was not yours that was on you right now. You felt at the material bunched in your hand again and recognized it as an article of clothing of some sort, not a blanket. Slowly opening one eye, you saw that it was a big hoodie, the arms wrapped around your shoulders so it didn’t fall off.
You shifted in your seat again, sitting up a little more as you looked at the hoodie that was draped over you a little closer.
“Hey, are you waking up?” Sungchan asked quietly from beside you.
You looked over at him, squinting. “Mm… mhm.”
“Good, we’re almost there. I’d say ten minutes,” he informed you.
“What… time is it?”
“A little after nine.”
“Ugh…” You dropped your head back against the seat. “Feels like two in the morning.”
“I know what you mean,” he chuckled. “I’m going to be ready to sleep as soon as we get there too.”
“Yeah, but you were like driving and changing tires and stuff. I was... whatever the opposite of a passenger princess is, the whole time. A passenger nuisance.”
“You held the flashlight. That was a very important job.”
“I’m going to pretend like that didn’t feel patronizing and say thanks.”
“We both had a long night, Y/N. Being tired is warranted, for everyone involved.”
“Thanks, Sungchan.”
“You’re welcome.”
“No, not just for that.” You were interrupted by another yawn as you went to put the back of your seat upright again. “For… driving me, and apologizing for snapping at me earlier, and changing the tire, and walking me to the bathroom, and for the hoodie. You’re…”
“Nice?” He seemed to be bracing himself for the word.
“A good guy.”
“Oh.”
You didn’t say anything else, readjusting his hoodie on you as he continued driving. Finally, he pulled off the road into a driveway, and a cabin came into view. All the lights were on, and he stopped behind a few other cars that you recognized: Mark’s, Jaemin’s, and Karina’s.
The two of you had just started taking your stuff out of the trunk when some of your friends met you outside.
“You survived!” Jaemin cheered.
“Barely,” you groaned, reaching for your pillow.
“What happened to your tire, dude?” Mark asked Sungchan.
“Got a nail in it somewhere,” he explained, taking his phone out to shine the flashlight on it. As they looked it over and talked about the car, the others grabbed both yours and Sungchan’s stuff to take into the cabin.
“So, before you guys got a flat, how exactly did you manage to read the map on your phone so wrong you added three hours to the drive?” Jeno questioned you, your duffel bag slung over his shoulder.
“Our exit was 238, I misread it, thought it was 288,” you explained with a sigh. “We ended up on the wrong side of the mountain and had to go back around.”
“Damn, it’s a good thing you were with Sungchan when you did that,” Anton laughed, dragging Sungchan’s suitcase in. “Anybody else probably would’ve lost their shit on you.”
“He did.”
Everyone who was within earshot turned to look at you.
“What?” Anton blinked.
“I mean, he didn’t like, go crazy or anything, but he was angry.”
“We’re talking about the same guy, right? Jung Sungchan, right over there?” Hyuck pointed to where Sungchan and Mark were still chatting by the cars further down the driveway. “He got like, actually mad at you?”
“Uh-huh,” you confirmed. “Raised his voice, yelled, whatever word you want to use. Cursed, too.”
“I’ve never even seen him get like, frustrated…” Shotaro whistled.
Hyuck looked between you and Sungchan in disbelief. “What the hell?”
“He apologized,” you added what felt like a pretty important detail.
“I’m sure he did,” Anton snorted, opening the front door. “I’m kind of surprised he’s not still like, begging for your forgiveness.”
“He apologized for getting upset, I apologized for missing the exit, we moved on.” You shrugged, stepping into the cabin. “And the sky didn’t fall.”
“Yet.” Hyuck scoffed. “Who knows, hell might freeze over before we wake up.”
“Speaking of, where exactly are we all sleeping?”
The next morning, you slipped out of the king size bed that you, Karina, and Ningning were all sharing and treaded down the darkened hallway as quietly as possible. The sun hadn’t risen yet, and you winced when a floorboard creaked underfoot as you passed behind the pull-out couch that Shotaro and Anton had crashed on.
There was already light pouring out of the kitchen when you got there, and a tall figure was standing in front of the stove, a tea kettle on one of the old coil burners. Sungchan was illuminated by the stove light, and turned around when he heard the shuffling of your socks across the tile. It looked like he had already showered and gotten dressed, his hair a little damp as it hung in his eyes, and he was in a fresh t-shirt, shorts, and pair of sneakers.
“You’re up early,” he commented, keeping his voice low to not disturb the others in the next room.
“You too,” you replied just as softly.
The kettle began whistling just then, and he immediately flipped open the spout to stop the noise, taking it off the stove. He opened a nearby cabinet to grab a mug.
“Tea?” He offered. “I’m not a big coffee guy…”
“Sure,” you accepted, and he took a second mug down. “What kind?”
Sungchan went to a different cabinet to get a box of tea sachets. “Green.”
He dropped a tea bag into each mug, then poured the boiling water over them. He handed you your mug before leaning against a spot by the sink.
“Thanks.” You wrapped your hands contentedly around the warm drink.
You lifted your bag up and down by the string, letting it steep as your eyes blinked open and closed, your mind still coming to in the early morning hours. Outside the cabin, you could hear birds singing as the forest woke up too, and you smiled to yourself at the thought.
“So, uh—” Sungchan cleared his throat awkwardly. “What’s the difference between a nice guy and a good guy?”
You opened your eyes, lifting your head to look up at him, slightly amused. You hoped this hadn’t kept him up last night. “A nice guy wouldn’t have yelled at me in the first place.”
“Oh.” He looked a bit ashamed, and also like he might try to apologize again.
“But that also would’ve made no opportunity for you to apologize,” you continued. “A nice guy is just nice. A good guy can admit when he’s wrong, because he actually is wrong sometimes. But he fixes it after.”
“Huh…” Sungchan took another sip of his tea. “Are you a philosophy student or something? Gender studies?”
“No.” You laughed. “Just a compulsive vibe-harsher, like I said.”
“I don’t know how being smart harshes the vibe.”
“I… find it hard to take things at face value. I always have to evaluate them through some lens. It’s tough for me to live in the moment, I guess. Doesn’t always make me the most fun at parties.”
“You can’t be that much of a bummer, they keep inviting you places.” He had finished his tea, and turned around to wash out the mug before setting it aside to dry. “I’ve got to go, I found a place that’ll look at my tire. I called and they’re open on Saturdays.”
“I’ll go with you,” you offered. “If you want some company…”
“It’s on the other side of the mountain,” he informed you. “It’ll be an all-day thing, you should hang out here with everyone. I think Hyuck said they were going to take the boat out.”
“But then you’ll be all alone and bored in the car all day.” You tilted your head. “If you just don’t want me to come, tell me. I’ll be okay.”
“No, Y/N, I’d appreciate the company, but are you sure you want to be stuck in the car with me all day again?”
“Just don’t make me navigate and we’ll be good.”
“Never again,” he smiled. “You’ll be there purely for entertainment.”
“Great, let me get changed.”
“Aw, I thought the jammies were cute,” Sungchan snickered, and for the first time that morning you processed what you were wearing.
A pair of Sanrio character-patterned sleep shorts that were originally from a pajama set (the matching button-up top had long disappeared), well-loved, and a big t-shirt that your dad had gotten from his work when you were high school, worn in with a couple holes in one of the sleeves and another low on the bottom hem—not in any scandalous areas, hence why you hadn’t retired it yet, but definitely not your finest attire.
“Shut up!” You hissed, putting your mug down on the counter to cross your arms over your chest. “I’m changing!”
[sungchan: going to get my tire fixed, y/n’s with me. car shop is on the other side of the mountain so we’ll be back late afternoon-ish]
[jeno: 👍]
“I wasn’t kidding, the pajamas were cute,” Sungchan chuckled as he pulled away from the cabin.
The backroads looked much more welcoming and pleasant in the daytime, all tall, green trees and beautiful mountain landscapes.
“Yeah, sure,” you snorted, taking over the aux first.
“Is my hoodie over there by the way?” He questioned, pointing to the passenger seat floor. “It wasn’t in my stuff yesterday, I thought it might’ve ended up on the floor or something.”
“Oh, sorry, I accidentally took it in with me,” you informed him, remembering when you had finally gotten settled into your room late last night and realized you’d brought the article of clothing in with you in the midst of the hecticness. “I’ll give it back to you when we get back to the cabin after this.”
“Don’t worry about it, just wondering where it went.” He waved you off nonchalantly, eyes focused on the road as he navigated a curve.
But you weren’t going to let him chalant around that so easily. “And what does that mean, Sungchan?”
“I like that hoodie and didn’t want to have lost it on a mountain in the middle of nowhere?”
“So, if I were to give it back to you and start borrowing, oh, I don’t know, Jeno’s hoodie…?”
“That’d be weird, because you have a perfectly good one,” he replied simply.
“Mhm…”
“And clearly, I’m trying to establish my dominance over the other males and stake my unofficial claim over you by having you wear my clothes,” he looked over at you, voice dripping with sarcasm.
You held his eye contact for a moment before you both burst out laughing. “What?!”
“Sorry, I tried my hand at harshing the vibe like you,” his eyes crinkled as he laughed. “Just sounded like a fucking weirdo, huh?”
“A bit, yeah.” You wheezed as you tried to catch your breath. “You also can’t sound that sarcastic when you do it. People have to believe that you believe what you’re saying.”
“I didn’t though. I mean, not completely. I think.”
“Either commit to the bit or don’t.”
He frowned thoughtfully. “But… wouldn’t that have made you feel weird? What I just said?”
“Oh yeah, I don’t buy into all that alpha male social hierarchy bullshit. It’s based off one study on a pack of wolves that’s been debunked multiple times.” You shook your head. “But the second part wasn’t an incorrect analysis of flirting and dating dynamics.”
“Damn, you’re good at that,” he chuckled fondly.
“I didn’t know that Donghyuck was setting us up, by the way,” you felt the need to clarify in that moment. “Not until… right before I apologized?”
“I kind of worked that out eventually,” he sighed. “He should’ve told you, by the way.”
“Yeah, then maybe I would’ve been fucking normal.”
“Probably not.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“I mean, it was unfair to you to have been in the dark like that.”
“That’s… generous. Here I thought it was unfair to you to have been subjected to me like that.”
“I was a bit confused as to why Donghyuck told me he had the perfect person for me and then every time I talked to you, you either ran away or seemed to hate me for no good reason,” he admitted.
“I truly wonder what his thought process was…” You mused. “He meets you playing pickup basketball, you turn out to be nicest guy he’s ever met, and his first thought is to introduce you to me? Weird.”
“Why is that weird?” Sungchan tilted his head. “I think you’re cool.”
“I mean, I’m not nice. Or, it’s definitely not one of my defining characteristics. Wouldn’t you want to set up your two nicest single friends with each other?”
“They might get bored of each other,” he muttered.
You looked at him curiously. “Do you think you’re boring, Sungchan?”
He shrugged. “Isn’t that what people say? ‘Oh he’s… a nice guy.’ When they can’t think of anything else about you because you’re boring.”
“I’ve had plenty of fun with you,” you assured him. “Including being stuck in a car with you for six hours and getting a flat tire.”
“I haven’t exactly been my usual self with you…” He confessed quietly.
“Oh?”
“I don’t get upset with people, or tease them like this, or say weird stuff to try to harsh the vibe on purpose.”
You couldn’t help but let out a peal of laughter. “Maybe you are usually pretty boring, then.”
“I think… because you’ve already seen me get mad, and we got past that, I feel like I can try out being things other than nice with you?” He seemed to have been picking his words very carefully. “Does that make sense?”
“Yeah, Sungchan, it makes sense,” you affirmed. “Are you seriously saying you don’t joke around with the others?”
“I joke around, but I’m not really like… sarcastic, I guess. I don’t want to say something and hurt someone’s feelings either because they didn’t get that it was a joke, or even if they did, because it went too far.”
“That’s fair, but… you have to trust people.”
“Coming from the woman who said she doesn’t trust hot people?” He questioned pointedly.
“Okay, fair,” you chuckled. “But hear me out.”
“Go for it.”
“If your friend said or did something that hurt your feelings, and you didn’t tell them that directly, would you expect them to know?”
He seemed to think about this for a moment, then shook his head. “No, they can’t read my mind. I would need to tell them so we can talk about it.”
“Then why do you have higher standards for yourself as a friend than you have for your friends?”
Sungchan’s mouth dropped open, then closed, then opened again, then closed once more as he frowned deeply, his brows knitting together.
You continued, “You have to trust your friends to tell you when they’re hurt by something you say or do. If you spend your whole life assuming what your friends’ feelings are instead actually letting them tell you, you’re just forcing your own expectations onto them without their input. And it’s also not fair to you to constantly be living your life trying to minimize all these perceived slights against people. Not to mention—sometimes someone’s feelings can get hurt and you didn’t really do anything wrong.”
He laughed nervously. “Not philosophy or gender studies grad student; I think I’m going to skip right over psychology and just go straight for all-knowing deity that can see straight into my soul?”
“Been thinking about updating my LinkedIn to Professional Yapper, but I think I like that better,” you grinned, handing his phone back over to him. “Your turn on the aux.”
“It’s fixable,” the tire shop owner confirmed. “Should take an hour or so. It’s just me and my son and we have a couple customers ahead of you. You and your girlfriend are welcome to wait here, or, you know, it’s lunchtime, there’s a restaurant that’s a five-minute walk down the road.”
He pointed in presumably the general direction of it.
“Right, uhm, here’s my number, in case we’re not here when it’s done.” Sungchan wrote his number down on a notepad on the front desk in the small tire shop.
The older man pulled the paper towards him, flashing the both of you a smile. “If you go to lunch, tell Mrs. Han I sent you.”
“Thank you.” He nodded to the man before you both stepped away from the counter, and the owner walked into the back where the cars were.
You looked up at Sungchan questioningly. “I could do lunch. Are you hungry?”
“Sure,” he agreed. “Beats sitting here for an hour. After sitting in the car for two days straight, I’d like to walk for a bit.”
There was of course no sidewalk, so the two of you had to walk on the shoulder of the road, the odd vehicle zipping by every so often and kicking up your hair. Sungchan kept himself between you and the road, meaning that you were on the grassier part of the shoulder, but you didn’t mind, taking the opportunity to look for wildflowers by your feet.
“Did we really look like a couple?” You asked, stopping to bend over and pick a yellow wildflower, then continued your walk.
“We were a man and woman alone in the middle of nowhere with car trouble,” Sungchan pointed out. “I don’t think the first assumption would be that we met a week ago.”
“Hm, fair.”
“He probably sees a lot of couples coming out here for romantic getaways breaking down or getting flats or whatever.”
“Sounds like the beginning of a horror movie…” You picked a stalk of small white flowers. “Or the first five minutes of a crime procedural.”
Sungchan grabbed a purple flower and held it out to you. “Truly a miracle that we survived.”
“Are you a mechanic or something?”
“Why? Because I know how to change a tire?”
You shrugged. “It’s a guess. You guessed that I was a philosophy student because I like to yap.”
“Not a mechanic.”
“You going to make me keep guessing?”
“I’ve guessed what you do three times now and you’ve yet to tell me.” He elbowed you. “I think you can handle a little more suspense about me.”
You swatted his arm away. “I don’t know if all-knowing deity should really count…”
“I was being so serious, hand on my heart.” He laid his hand over his chest dramatically.
“Well, I know it’s not pro basketball player,” you hummed teasingly. “Anton says you suck.”
“My three-pointer could use some work…”
“Pretty much our whole complex is grad students or young professionals... Are you in school?”
“You haven’t given me any hints.”
“You haven’t asked for any.”
He watched you step a little further from the road to get a pink flower from a patch before rejoining him. “I’ll answer if you answer.”
“A bargain?” You grinned, taking your gaze off the blue flowers that you had been eyeing up ahead of you and turning it up to Sungchan next to you. “I’ll take it. You first.”
“I’m a student. Your turn.”
“Both,” you answered. “I take night classes.”
“I have to guess two things for you?”
“What do we win if we guess right, anyway?” You asked.
“Y/N...” Sungchan stared you down at you avoiding his question.
“Fine, if you can guess one, I’ll tell you the other,” you acquiesced. “So what’s the prize?”
“Winning isn’t enough?” He questioned.
“You’re the one who turned it into a game.”
“Pretty sure you’re the one who did that, but okay,” he teased back. “I don’t know, what do you think it should it be? You suggested a prize.”
You hummed, stepping away from the road to reach for a bright blue flower, having to lean over to one side as the ground sloped down steeply in this area. A few pieces of gravel under your feet tumbled downhill, and Sungchan grabbed your forearm that was close to him to balance you as you picked the flower. Still hunched over, using your new stability with his hold on you to stretch your arm even further out towards a pretty orange one, you suggested, “Winner picks our first date when we get back home?”
“Date?” He echoed, his grip slipping on you for a moment.
You yelped as you nearly lost your balance, and Sungchan barely caught you from tumbling down the hillside, jerking you back towards him. You landed on your ass at his feet, huffing as you looked up at him.
“Sorry,” he said sheepishly, moving to offer you a hand up.
You took it, standing back up and brushing yourself off. Picking the orange wildflower first, you then threatened, “If you push me down this mountain for real, I’m taking you with me.”
“Yeah, that’s deserved,” he chuckled. “I was just, uhm, surprised.”
“Donghyuck tried to set us up—failed stupendously, which I mean, it’s Hyuck, what’s new?—but we’ve been flirting, I have your hoodie, unless something goes terribly wrong in the next two weeks, that would be the next step, right?” You pointed out. “I wasn’t planning on overanalyzing this but…”
Sungchan let out a round of giggles, his whole face scrunching up as he laughed. “Oh… you don’t know how relieved I am right now to hear you overanalyze that for me.”
“What…?”
“No offense, but it’s a bit hard to tell when you’re analyzing and when you’re flirting,” he admitted, still looking at you with a wide, fond grin. “I mean, this all literally started with you calling me stupidly hot and that somehow being a bad thing.”
You pursed your lips ruefully. “I can see how that might’ve been confusing…”
“No, it’s great,” he chuckled. “You’re great.”
Finally sitting in a booth in the small roadside restaurant, which only had a handful of other customers, the two of you had put in your orders with Mrs. Han and were sipping on your drinks as you went back to your guessing game from the walk.
“We have to guess before we get back to the cabin,” you determined, folding your hands in front of you. “Other people there know us. They might say something.”
Sungchan nodded from across the table. “Good point. Time limit, I like it.”
“Business major. MBA,” you started immediately.
“What? No,” he snorted incredulously.
“It’s basically Undeclared for people who don’t want to disappoint their parents, I had to guess it, sorry.”
“Literature, writing, MFA, something in there?”
“No, and that was like two guesses, so I get two this time.” You clicked your tongue. “Master’s in education, focus in coaching pedagogy.”
“That was one?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Okay, my second: International Relations.”
“No.” He cracked his knuckles. “I’m switching gears, because you seem to know a lot of degrees off the top of your head. You work in the Registrar’s Office?”
“No.”
“Damn! Wait, no, you’re an academic advisor?”
“Nope.”
“Graduate advisor.”
“No, and that was three in a row, Sungchan,” you pointed out humorously.
“I know. Alright, your three?”
“Can I ask a question to narrow it down instead?”
He squinted suspiciously. “What kind of question?”
“To help me narrow the field down. I won’t ask you to tell me the field, they’ll still be yes or no questions.”
“Yes, only if I can ask you the same.”
“It’d only be fair,” you confirmed. “STEM?”
“No.”
“Oh thank God,” you let out a groan of relief.
He laughed. “What’s wrong with people in STEM fields?”
“Listen, love a woman in STEM,” you defended yourself. “Men in STEM… they’re… how do I put this nicely? Insufferable know-it-alls?”
“That’s putting it nicely?”
“Yup.” You took a sip of your drink. “Don’t tell me it’s Finance either…”
“No.”
“Okay, I have one more…” You tapped your finger to your chin. “Is it a Fine Art?”
“No.” Sungchan looked down at the small bunch of flowers that you had set aside on the table. “What are you going to do with those?”
You shrugged. “I don’t know. Look at them for a while. Take pretty pictures for my Instagram. Toss them eventually, I guess. They’re not gonna live forever.”
Selecting one of the little pink flowers, you reached across the table to tuck it behind Sungchan’s ear. “There.”
He touched the flower, a similar shade of pink dusting his cheeks. “Thanks.”
“Your turn to guess.”
“STEM?”
“Math is my worst enemy, numbers were invented to harm me personally,” you retorted. “No.”
“I should’ve known,” he teased.
Mrs. Han brought your food out then, and you both thanked her before she bustled off to take care of a family that had just walked in. There was a pause in your conversation as you started eating. The food was delicious, and as you took another sip to wash it down, you looked out the window next to your table.
“The view is just crazy here,” you gushed, taking in the mountainside dotted with more colorful patches of wildflowers. You patted your pocket for your phone, then frowned when you couldn’t find it. “Where’s my—”
Wordlessly, Sungchan picked it up from the tabletop and held it out to you. You smiled at him. “Oh, thanks! Didn’t even see it.”
After taking a few pictures, you set your phone back down and returned to your guessing game. “Law?”
He shook his head, still chewing, and wiped his face before speaking with a clear mouth. “Nope. Are your job and what you’re studying related at all?”
“Yes.”
“Huh. I don’t think that actually helped me at all.”
“Education?”
“Mm, yes to the field, but I will make you narrow it down further,” Sungchan acquiesced.
You beamed at having finally gotten closer. “So I was on the right track with my second guess!”
“Are you doing a Fine Art?”
“No. Master’s in Early Childhood Education?”
He let out a soft chuckle as he sat back in the booth, holding his hands up in surrender. “You win.”
“Yes!” You cheered quietly, pumping a fist victoriously at eye level. “I was going to start at Early Childhood and keep going up in age bracket until I got a yes.”
“So?” He prompted you. “What do you do?”
“Right now, I’m a primary school teacher and I tutor on the side for some extra cash.” You watched his eyes grow wide as you revealed this. “And I’m taking a mix of night classes and online classes to get my degree in Educational Leadership and Policy Studies.”
“And that’s a…?”
“Doctorate.”
“Wow…” He breathed out. “Donghyuck really didn’t tell me anything about you before dragging me over to you at his party but uh—”
“Maybe he figured he’s got one friend who is a teacher and one who wants to be a teacher, might as well?” You suggested with humor in your tone, reaching for your glass.
“Yeah, maybe,” he laughed, his eyes sparkling as he kept looking at you.
When you and Sungchan finally got back to the cabin, you found it entirely devoid of your other friends.
“No welcoming party this time?” You scoffed, gesturing to the empty living room. “Now I’m thinking we should just keep the free fudge Mrs. Han gave us all to ourselves.”
“Hyuck did say they were going to take the boat out,” Sungchan reminded you, placing the bag containing said free fudge onto the kitchen counter. “And there’s no way the two of us could eat all that by ourselves before they got back.”
You made a small ‘hmph’ sound, moving to the large sliding glass door in the living room that afforded a view of the lake. The sun glistened off the water, and from here you couldn’t even see the next closest neighbor.
“Do you want to go down to the dock?” Sungchan suggested, joining you by the door. “They took the boat, but that doesn’t mean we’re stuck inside.”
“So,” Sungchan followed you down the pathway from the back porch down to the dock. “Once you have your degree, do you still want to be a teacher?”
“Yeah, my kids are why I’m getting it in the first place,” you explained, carefully picking your way down the steep decline. “I want to be able to advocate on behalf of them better, and understand what’s going on when the people who aren’t teachers are making decisions that affect us.”
“What year do you teach?”
“I provide supplemental curricula for all ages. Reading and writing mostly.” You peeked back at him over your shoulder. “Do you have an age you want to teach?”
A giddy smile tugged at his lips. “Little ones. Preschool. They’re so… Everything’s new to them. It’s so much fun seeing the world like that.”
“Yeah, it is.” You could feel that you were smiling too, turning your eyes back down to watch your step.
Soon, you were down on the dock, laid out on your towel as you enjoyed a puddle of sunlight, listening to the sounds of Sungchan splashing around in the water in front of you.
“You’re going to get skin cancer like that.”
Propping yourself up on one elbow, you looked over your sunglasses at where Sungchan had climbed back up the ladder and was sitting on the edge of the dock, pushing his wet hair out of his face. Like you’d said before, stupidly attractive.
“You literally helped me apply my sunscreen,” you drawled pointedly, recalling when he’d so coyly offered to help you get your back. Pushing your sunglasses back into place, you laid down again. “If I do, it’s your fault.”
You could hear him stand up and walk towards you. “I’ve never understood laying in the sun like that. Don’t you get all sweaty?”
“Haven’t you heard? I’m cold-blooded,” you replied humorously.
“Well, do you think you can survive one swim, or will your blood turn sludge in your veins as soon as you touch water?”
You snickered, finally sitting up. “Fine, fine, I’ll get in.”
Sungchan watched you get to your feet, then offered his hand out. You eyed it suspiciously.
“I’m getting in,” you promised, pointing to the ladder.
He offered his hand more insistently. “It’s not that bad. Jump in with me.”
You sighed, grabbing his hand. “Fine.”
Stepping up the edge of the dock with him, he swung your clasped hands in time as he counted, “One, two—”
“Three!” You finished, pulling him forward with you.
He rushed to bring his other hand up to plug his nose as you careened the both of you off the dock and into the lake. The water surged up around you, cool but not cold, not too warm to be gross, just refreshing enough. You squeezed your eyes shut as you went under, and let go of Sungchan’s hand so you could paddle back up to the surface. Wiping the water from your eyes, you laughed as he immediately pointed an accusatory finger at you.
“Dragging your heels only to pull me off!” He was grinning too.
“I’m sorry, did I see you plugging your nose?” You teased back. “At your big age?”
“I’m not getting a brain-eating amoeba, thank you,” he retorted. “You were asleep, but there was this billboard we passed on our way here warning people about it.”
“But do you know how to blow nose bubbles, Sungchan?”
“Well, no.”
“Okay, mini-swim lesson,” you declared, waving him closer. “Come on, I used to teach water safety to little kids. If I can teach a two-year-old to stop snorting water, I believe in you.”
“You taught swim lessons?”
“Yeah, it was my first job, in high school.” You locked back into instructing. “You can blow your nose, right?”
He looked at you blankly. “Yes.”
“Hey, some people have body awareness issues, it’s always better to ask.” You held your hands up defensively. “So, same mechanics, air goes out into the water, keep your mouth closed, and don’t inhale through your nose right after while it’s still underwater.”
You did a small demonstration for him, only submerging from your chin to your nose, letting out a slow stream of bubbles. Bringing your face back up, you added, “And try not to exhale all at once.”
Sungchan mirrored your actions, lowering his face until his nose was underwater, slowly exhaling. He uncertainly lifted his head again after, eyes on you.
You smiled and clapped your hands. “Yay! There we go!”
“That was... weirdly easy.” He immediately did it again.
“Now you just have to think about doing it all the time, until you don’t have to think about doing it.” You rolled over onto your back, relaxing as you floated. “Then you’ll never have to worry about plugging your nose again.”
“If you used to be a swim instructor, why didn’t you want to swim?” Sungchan followed after you curiously as you drifted away.
“Because then I do stuff like give grown men lessons on how to blow nose bubbles.”
“That was helpful.”
“And—” You popped up to tread water again, facing Sungchan. “I kind of hate lakes. And oceans. Anything that I can’t see the bottom in, and where stuff lives. Like fish, or brain-eating amoebas. I like my pools.”
His face fell. “Oh, well we can get out—”
“I said kind of,” you cut him off. “I don’t mind, because you wanted to swim, and I’m having fun with you.”
“But—”
“Sungchan.” You held his gaze steadily, keeping your voice calm, inquisitive even. “Have you ever done something you don’t really care for, because your friends or family wanted to?”
“Well, yeah.”
“They’re worth it?”
“Of course.”
You tilted your head with a knowing smile. “So are you.”
His face flushed with what you knew wasn’t the heat of the sun. “Oh...”
The sound of a boat motor in the distance caught your attention. Coming around a bend in the trees was, in fact, a boat, and while you couldn’t make out any individual faces at this distance, the fact that it was headed right towards you, and several of the figures were jumping and waving at you, you could guess that it held all your friends.
“Well, there’s everyone,” you laughed, heading back towards the dock.
Some days later, you were contentedly relaxed in a hammock that had been suspended between two trees in the spacious backyard of the cabin, humming along to a song playing from Ningning’s phone as you half-listened to whatever juicy piece of gossip that the other two were divulging. A cool night breeze passed over your bare arms and legs, pricking up goosebumps in its wake, and you shivered.
“I’m going to grab a sweater or something,” you declared, getting down from the hammock. Picking up your empty drink can from the table nearby, you added, “Not to mention, I’m out of seltzer.”
“Can you see if we have any more chocolate-covered pretzels?” Karina requested.
“Sure.” You grabbed some of the other trash to take in with you.
You passed by the guys playing video games in the living room as you headed for the kitchen, tossing the garbage out first. After throwing on a hoodie from your room, you went back into the living room, fully intending on checking the kitchen for Karina’s snack. Instead, you were met by a desperate, raucous chorus of yells of your name.
“Hm?” You looked up at the guys questioningly, stopping in your tracks.
Mark waved you over fervently. “Come here! We need an even number.”
“What are you guys playing?” You took a hesitant step closer, eyes scrutinizing the game menu.
“Don’t worry about it, it’s a button masher, super easy,” Shotaro reassured you, grabbing your arm and pulling you into the living room. “Sungchan’s not even half-bad at it.”
“Yeah, you can uh, you can even be on Sungchan’s team,” Hyuck said, exchanging a mischievous grin with a couple of your other friends.
“Okay,” you shrugged, plopping down into the space that Sungchan had made for you between him and the arm of the couch. A controller was pushed into your hand. Karina’s pretzels could wait.
“This moves your character around, this one is to jump, this one is to attack, this one is to shield,” Sungchan quietly explained the controls to you as the others started assigning teams, hands hovering over yours on the controller. “There’s some other special moves, but those are the basics. Just uh, stay away from Hyuck.”
You nodded. “Got it.”
“Nice hoodie by the way,” he added, much softer.
“Thanks...” You murmured back, well aware that you were wearing his from the car.
“Alright!” Jaemin announced loudly. “Let’s do it!”
Now, you didn’t exactly consider yourself a gamer. In fact, you spent most of the time either running away from the other guys, or at one point, accidentally falling off the level and losing a life all on your own. You couldn’t even tell if you were even really helping Sungchan at all. But it was fun, and you were kind of maybe starting to get a hang of the controls by the end of the round. To your surprise, the two characters that popped up as winners, however, were yours and Sungchan’s.
“We won?” You questioned, looking at Sungchan in surprise.
“Looks like we did,” he confirmed, smiling down at the controller in his hand.
“Hell yeah!” You held a hand up for him to high five.
“Sungchan, what the hell?” Shotaro smacked his arm from his other side.
“Since when have you been good at video games?” Jaemin interjected from the other couch.
“Have you been sucking on purpose this whole time and just decided to reveal that you were good now?” Mark questioned accusatorily.
“Yeah, we were joking when we said he was only half-bad at this game, he’s actually ass at it,” Anton clarified to you, making you roll your eyes at their apparent plan to give you the worst player.
“Sorry Y/N, he’s on my team next,” Hyuck declared, bringing up the character selections and switching Sungchan’s team color to match his own.
“Hey, change that back,” Sungchan said, his voice level but firm.
Hyuck actually stopped in his tracks, looking back at Sungchan with wide eyes. He held his hands up in surrender.
Sungchan switched his team color back to match yours with no interference from the others. You lightly bumped your leg against his as the room chatter started back up. He bumped your leg back.
The next day, everyone went out on a hike. There was a slightly overgrown trail that went around the mountainside, taking lazy twists and turns through the trees. Said greenery provided you with plenty of shade, and concealed the lake below from you so well it almost felt like you had transported elsewhere. The trail was narrow, however, only fitting three people comfortably at its widest points, but usually only two, so your group was spread out thin along it.
Jaemin and Hyuck were up front, arguing about… something that you couldn’t parse out from your place all the way at the back. Turning to Sungchan beside you, you took your water bottle out of the side pocket of the backpack he was wearing. Somehow he had been burdened with most of the group’s supplies, and while you weren’t exactly doing any sort of survivalist stuff out here, you didn’t see why everyone couldn’t at least carry their own water bottles.
Taking a swig from your bottle, you kept it in your hand as you pointed at him accusingly, “You didn’t suddenly get good at that game out of nowhere last night, Sungchan.”
He rubbed the back of his neck. “Ah, I mean…”
“Were you sucking on purpose so nobody’s feelings got hurt?”
“I didn’t suck. I was just sort of… okay.” He tried to explain. “I don’t know if it was on purpose, I guess I just didn’t care if everyone knew that I was the best? I’m just not super competitive, really.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Hyuck speechless like that before either.” You laughed at the memory. “You don’t ever stand up for yourself with them like that, do you?”
“It’s not like they bully me or anything…”
“You just go with the flow?”
“Yeah, exactly,” he seemed to relax again at your words.
“I had fun playing on your team last night,” you said, taking another sip. “Win or lose. I’m glad you didn’t go with the flow that time.”
“Hey, hold still?” Sungchan requested, reaching a hand out towards your face.
You froze warily. “What is it? A bug?”
“No, no,” he reassured you, brushing your hair back from one side of your head, then the other. “Did you leave the cabin with only one earring in?”
“Shit, no!” Your hands flew up to clutch at your lobes, immediately feeling that one of them was empty. You looked down at the ground around your feet, despite the sinking feeling in your stomach that it was useless. There was nothing around you but dirt and grass. “Damn it!”
Sungchan made an effort to look under him as well, but came up empty-handed too. “I don’t see anything…”
“Well, damn,” you sighed, dropping your hands back down to your sides. “Could’ve been worse, I guess. Could’ve been my grandmother’s pearls or something instead of a pair of earrings I stole from my freshman roommate.”
“Seriously?” He laughed as you continued down the trail.
“It was an accident! Mostly…” You explained. “We borrowed each other’s stuff all the time, and when we moved out at the end of the year, the earrings ended up in my stuff. I told her I had them and she said I could keep them. Apparently they always made her ears itch anyway.”
“Sucks you lost one, though. I thought the little hearts were really cute.”
“Just like you thought my raggedy old t-shirt was cute?” You snorted.
“Exactly.”
“Why do you get shotgun, Y/N?” Anton complained from the backseat, his voice loud to be heard over the wind.
“Because it’s my car,” Sungchan retorted, his thumb tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel. “And I said so.”
You couldn’t help but snicker at the image of poor Anton and his lanky limbs squished into the middle seat between Shotaro and Mark. “You could’ve stayed at the cabin, Anton.”
“I was bored.” He crossed his arms. “And I thought Sungchan would’ve at least been sympathetic to his fellow long-legged brethren.”
“But the baby always gets the middle seat.” You turned around to pinch his cheek.
“I am not—”
“Could’ve fooled me,” Sungchan sighed, looking out the window. “With the way you’re whining right now.”
Anton’s jaw dropped as the other three of you broke into howling laughter.
Soon enough, you arrived at your destination, a natural park with a huge cave system. The main attraction, however, was that one section of the tunnels was so dark that you couldn’t even see your own hand in front of your face.
A small family, and field trip for what looked like a summer camp had arrived just before you all, and were put in the same tour group as your friends. You watched from afar with amusement as the counselors put the children into buddy pairs before the tour guide officially began the tour.
“Hey, don’t you teach, Y/N?” Shotaro asked curiously as your own group took up the rear of the tour, nodding towards all the kids.
“Yeah, I do,” you answered, the air immediately becoming cooler as you stepped into the caves. “Primary school.”
“Jungchan over here wants to be a teacher too!” Anton informed you cheerily, slapping Sungchan on the shoulder, the sound cracking through the entire cave loudly.
Several heads turned around to look at the source of the noise, and you all looked around at the walls of the cave innocently until they turned forward again. The cave was getting darker and darker, the lights strung up by the park employees getting fewer and further between. Your eyes continued to adjust to the changing light, but your surroundings were becoming less made up of clear objects with definable features and more the vague outline of shapes.
“Oh, really?” You asked mildly, barely concealing the humor in your tone.
“Early childhood education,” he replied calmly, hand sneaking up to pinch your side.
It took everything in you not to squeal as you squirmed away from his hand, elbowing his arm. You could hear the light puffs of his silent laughter next to you. Right as you had lifted your own hand up to retaliate, the tour group came to a stop, everything was pitch black around you, and Sungchan’s hand caught yours, lacing your fingers together. There were no lights in here, and the children’s excited chatter rose as the counselors spoke back to them to confirm that they were still there as well. You held your free hand up in front of your face, and the only way you knew it was there was because you could feel that it was. The only thing your eyes saw was darkness.
“That’s freaky,” Shotaro commented from somewhere behind you.
“What the hell, man?” Mark was somewhere to your other side. “Dude, I can’t see my hand! Just like it said online!”
“Oh! There you are, Shotaro!” Anton breathed out a sigh of relief.
“Yeah, I didn’t disappear in the five seconds since we walked in here,” Shotaro grunted. “Did you have to practically climb on top of me to confirm that?”
You reached out tentatively towards Sungchan, your hand eventually bumping into his chest. “Ah, found you.”
“Found me,” he echoed quietly.
The tour guide started ushering everyone out of the sector, and as the light started entering your vision again, your fingers unwound from Sungchan’s. The counselor’s voices floated back to you as they took a headcount of all their kids, who were still dutifully holding onto their assigned buddies.
Soft footsteps at the top of the stairs caught your attention, and you looked up from your laptop at the tall figure hovering there awkwardly. You offered Sungchan a soft smile, waving him into the small attic loft space. There wasn’t much up here except the couch that you were on, a narrow table, and a dartboard. The ceiling was so low that Sungchan had to hunch just the slightest to avoid knocking his forehead into the wooden crossbeams.
“Hey.” You pushed yourself up into a proper sitting position on the couch, your computer moving from your stomach to your lap.
“Why aren’t you out with everyone else?” He sat down in the space that you had freed up. The others had all gathered outside around the firepit to roast marshmallows and drink, but you had other things to tend to.
You nodded to the device. “Ah, I had some grading to do.”
“I thought you were on summer break.”
“Tutoring.” You set the laptop aside on the coffee table, even as your eyes caught on the screen fondly. “One of my students, I mean, she doesn’t need it for her grades. But she just loves writing, so her mom pays for sessions like private workshops. I’m working on her newest story right now.”
“How is it?”
“She’s so creative!” You couldn’t help but laugh. “It amazes me every time. She hasn’t quite figured out resolutions yet, still rushes through them once she’s decided she’s done with the exciting part. But she’s gotten a lot better with dialogue. She used to not write it at all, just tell you what characters said, never putting anything in quotes, you know?”
“It’s typed?” He questioned, looking at the word document on your screen.
“Yeah, she has coordination issues, pencils kind of slow her down,” you explained. “She’s working on it in her occupational therapy. But that’s not what this is for. This is to let her be creative. If I forced her to use a pencil, she’d have to stop writing because her hands were done before her brain was done.”
“That... sounds frustrating for her.”
“There’s other options now. I mean, when’s the last time you actually used a pencil in your everyday life?”
He seemed to think about this for a moment. “...Good point.”
There was a pause as Sungchan just kept looking at you, the moment feeling much like when you were in the restaurant, his dark brown eyes sparkling even in the dim lighting you had now.
“Did you miss me, Sungchan?” You eyed him teasingly.
“Well, yeah,” he agreed as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “And I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“What did you tell everyone else you were doing when you came looking for me?”
“I didn’t make an announcement or anything.”
“Yeah?” You sat up closer to him, then did a double-take as you noticed a hole in his earlobe. “Hey, I never noticed you had your ears pierced.”
“Only one.” He turned his head to show you the other, unadulterated lobe. “Probably why you didn’t notice, you’ve always been on my other side in the car.”
An idea immediately came to your mind, and you stood up from the couch. “Wait here.”
Traversing through the house, you came back up the stairs with your prize clutched triumphantly in the palm of your hand. You held your closed fist out towards him indicatively. “Here.”
He held his hand out, letting you drop the single red heart stud into it. His eyes widened as he turned it over with a fingertip. “You’re…”
“I washed it, don’t worry.”
Sungchan promptly put the stud in, securing it with the backing and looking up at you again with a delighted, amazed smile.
“Cute,” you commented, tracing the shell of his ear with a fingertip.
“And what does this mean, Y/N?” He asked slyly.
“What am I going to do with only one earring?” You replied with feigned innocence. “And, I was kind of hoping you’d need help putting it on, since there’s no mirrors in here...”
He leaned back against the couch. “And how exactly would you have helped me put it on?”
“Well, I can’t really see from here, so, I would’ve had to get closer—” You stepped forward, putting your hands on his shoulders as you lowered yourself onto his lap. You kept your focus on his face the whole time, watching for any hesitation, any uncertainty, any indication that you should stop. His eyes watched you with rapt attention, big and brown and awe-filled.
“Good?” You asked quietly, your voice barely above a hum.
He swallowed, his throat bobbing up and down, and your eyes followed the movement, before he answered, “Good.”
“Then I would’ve put the earring in—” You once again outlined the outer shell of his ear, continuing down the line of his jaw. “And probably said something about the adorable little freckle you have on the bridge of your nose that I kind of want to bite.”
You tapped said freckle, high up on his nose, nearly between his brows, and his face split into a grin as he laughed breathily.
“Bite?” He repeated, clearly amused at the idea.
“Mhm.” You nodded, looping your arms around his neck. “You’ve got a very biteable nose, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, the whole nose is biteable, not just the freckle,” he chuckled, settling his hands on your hips.
“Well, more than just the nose.”
“Y/N.”
“Mm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
You gasped in feigned shock. “Before our first date?”
“Do I need to ask your hand in marriage first?” He was so close that your noses almost touched now, his question mingling with your answer that came soon after.
“No,” you snickered, letting him seal his lips over yours in the next moment.
“You mauled him.”
Turning around from where you were eating a bowl of cereal, you raised an eyebrow at Hyuck. “Good morning to you too, Hyuck. And nice bedhead.”
He didn’t fix his hair that was sticking up in all directions, coming around to flop into the seat across the table from you. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
“I don’t know who or what you’re talking about?” You snorted. Pushing the box towards him, you offered, “Cereal?”
“Care to tell me why Sungchan is covered in hickies and bite marks?”
“Care to tell me how you know that?”
“He sleeps shirtless, don’t try to avoid.”
“Why do you think it was me?”
“He disappeared from the bonfire last night and didn’t return, you didn’t show up at all, he appears the next morning coincidentally looking like he’s been someone’s chew toy. You’re... you.”
You cocked your head at him curiously. “Weren’t you trying to set us up?”
“I was. I still am, kind of,” he sighed. “Like I said, Sungchan’s the nicest guy I know. Don’t... chew him up and spit him out, please.”
“I’m touched you think so highly of me, truly.”
“That didn’t come out right,” he groaned, rubbing his face with two hands. “I meant... Make sure you two are on the same page about what you’re doing and what you want.”
“We are, Hyuck,” you told him quietly.
Hyuck peeked at you over his hands, and based on the crinkles that formed around his eyes, you could perfectly imagine the mischievous grin that was hidden. “So it was you, then?”
Footsteps entered the kitchen then, followed by Sungchan’s voice, deeper with the early hours of the morning, “Oh, morning, Y/N, Hyuck.”
He stopped next to your seat at the end of the table, seeming uncertain of just how close to be to you. He was wearing a longsleeve, which didn’t help much with the few marks on his neck and under his jaw. The red heart stud was still in his ear, which made your chest squeeze and your whole body thrum with happiness.
“Morning, Sungchan,” you said brightly, gesturing to the cereal box. “Cereal? Hyuck didn’t want any.”
“Oh, sure.”
“Sit, I’ll get your bowl.” You stood up, gently pushing him towards the table as you walked by him towards the cabinets.
“Gross, could you not do that in front of me?” Donghyuck made an exaggerated gagging sound.
“Do what?” Sungchan squinted at him in confusion at the same time that you scoffed, “Nobody’s holding you here at gunpoint. Go back to sleep.”
“Maybe I will.” He made a grand display of pushing his chair back and standing up.
“You’ve never been a morning person.” You shook your head at him. “See you in a few hours.”
As he shuffled back out of the kitchen, you returned to your mission of fetching a bowl and the milk, bringing them back to the table for Sungchan. He’d taken the seat next to yours, and you happily plopped back down beside him.
“Thanks,” he murmured, beginning to fix a bowl of cereal for himself.
“Good one sleeping shirtless, by the way. Hyuck had absolutely no questions,” you teased, finger poking one of the hickies facing you.
Sungchan gave you a pointed stare, but made no move to knock your hand away. “Oh and who couldn’t keep her teeth to herself?”
“I told you: You’re biteable.”
He reached up to grab your hand and removed it from where you'd still been messing with the marks you’d left on his throat. Instead of just pushing it away, he brought your joined hands down to rest on his leg. After a beat, he looked up at you, uncertainty in his gaze, as if he were about to belatedly ask permission.
You laced your fingers together, scooting your chair closer to his before picking up your spoon with your free hand.
As the anchor was dropped into the water, there was an excited buzz about the boat, everyone getting ready to get in the water. Hyuck had stopped the boat by a rope swing that was set up in a tree on one of the steep edges of where the mountain met the lake. A few inflatables were tied to the boat so they wouldn’t drift away, and of course, a couple coolers with plenty of drinks were on deck.
“Y/N, can you help me with my sunscreen?” Ningning requested, holding the bottle out to you.
“Ning, I told you to apply it at the cabin,” you sighed, accepting the sunscreen nevertheless as she took her coverup off.
“It’s not my fault we’re currently sharing one bathroom with like five other people!” She pointed out. “I didn’t have time.”
Sudden wolf whistles and dramatic yells from the back of the boat made you snap your head over, anger flooding your body immediately. But you realized that none of them were aimed at you and Ningning. Instead, the guys seemed to all be taunting Sungchan, who had just taken his shirt off, revealing the full extent of the love bites scattered on his skin.
“Dude, did you get mauled by a bear or something?” Mark laughed.
“Or fall down the mountain?” Anton’s eyes were wide as he went to poke one on Sungchan’s shoulder.
Sungchan slapped his hand away. “Personal space?”
“Fall down the mountain after getting mauled by a bear?” Jaemin proposed helpfully, moving behind him as if inspecting a product that he was purchasing at a store. “We got claw marks, guys!”
They all let out teasing cheers, and you could see that Sungchan’s ears were bright red. You shook your head to yourself, going back to helping Ningning with her sunscreen.
She craned her neck to be able to look at you over her shoulder. “Nice one, Y/N.”
“Who, me?” You blinked at her innocently.
“You left that poor boy to deal with those menaces by himself.”
You’d finished up with her sunscreen, handing her the bottle. “One sec.”
Walking over to where the guys were still razzing Sungchan, who now looked prematurely sunburned, you held a hand up to shade your eyes, squinting as you looked off towards the rope swing.
“I bet Shotaro could make it there first,” you commented casually.
“What?!” They all looked over at you, dumbfounded.
“No way!” Anton argued. “I literally used to be a swimmer.”
“But if you’re talking endurance—” Jeno tried to vouch for himself.
“All your big muscles just make you sink, dude,” Hyuck snorted. “You’ve got no buoyancy.”
As they kept squabbling, you were still eyeing the rope swing. “Yeah, but, Taro’s like, halfway there already.”
Their heads whipped around to see that Shotaro had, in fact, been lazily paddling towards the swing all the while they were teasing Sungchan. The guys all rushed to toss off whatever shirts, shoes, hats, or sunglasses they didn’t want to get wet, practically shoving each other in their haste to get in the water and race towards the rope swing. The boat swayed a little with their movements, and you grabbed Sungchan’s arm for stability, the only one of them who hadn’t taken your bait.
Shotaro turned around when he heard all the splashes behind him, confusion turning to momentary panic as they all rushed at him.
“Hurry up! You’re going to lose your head start!” Sungchan yelled out to him.
“What?!” He began backstroking faster. “I didn’t know this was a race!”
Karina was already in one of the inflatables off the back of the boat, and Ningning gracefully dove off the back platform to join in her one of the other ones.
Looking back up at Sungchan, you couldn’t help but burst into laughter at how perfectly that had worked. He was laughing too, one of his hands dropping to your waist to pull you closer to him.
“Thanks for the save there,” he chuckled, thumb sneaking under the shirt you were wearing to rub circles into the bare skin above your swimsuit bottoms. “Did you put sunscreen on?”
“Back at the cabin,” you confirmed. “Hate to disappoint.”
“You could’ve lied and said no.”
“I am nothing if not an honest and pure soul,” you put a hand over your heart as your words were laced with sarcasm.
Sungchan snickered at this, his smile so bright you could forget about the sun, leaning in even closer to him.
“Sungchan.”
“Mhm?” He looked down at you, tilting his head inquisitively.
“Can I kiss you?”
“In front of everyone?” He gasped, still teasing.
“That’s a little bit the point.” You couldn’t take your eyes off him—so gorgeous it really was unfair. “And also, I really want to kiss you right now.”
“What a coincidence—I want to kiss you too.”
You grabbed the back of his neck, pulling his lips down to yours. He immediately responded in turn, his other hand that wasn’t on your hip going to cup your cheek. The sounds of various taunts, cheers, and whistles all faded out behind the roaring in your ears.
It was your last night in the cabin, and you were of course celebrating with one last bonfire. Your group of friends were spread out between the firepit, the hammock, and the other lounge furniture on the spacious deck. You and Sungchan were tucked onto a small loveseat by the table of food, idly chatting as you sipped your drink and he nibbled off the snack offerings in front of you.
The sliding glass door opened behind you, one of your friends walking out from inside the cabin. Glancing up, you saw that it was Mark, his eyes down on his phone screen as he shut the door behind him.
“Those little rolls from Mrs. Han’s restaurant were really good,” Sungchan sighed happily, hand on his stomach.
“There’s still one more,” you pointed out. “Take it.”
He looked uncertain for a moment, but you nudged him with your foot insistently.
“Everybody’s already had one. Go ahead.”
Sungchan had just reached forward towards the last roll as Mark walked by, eyes on his phone as he swiped it from the plate. The man next to you just sighed dejectedly, sitting back in his seat.
“Hey, Sungchan was going to eat that,” you called after Mark loudly. Not too rude, just making him aware as he clearly hadn’t been paying attention.
Mark turned around, looking at you two, then down at the roll in his hand in confusion. He offered it back out to Sungchan. “Oh, sorry man, I didn’t realize—”
Sungchan waved him off. “It’s okay, you can have—”
You stood up, walked over, and snatched it out of Mark’s hand. “Thanks, bye.”
Mark paused, as if he were thinking about saying something else, but opted not to, walking over to sit with Jeno and Hyuck by the fire.
You sat back down next to Sungchan and placed it in his hand. “Here.”
“Thanks, Y/N,” Sungchan was clearly fighting a smile as he looked down at his feet. He tore the roll in half, offering one half out to you.
You took it gratefully, tapping your half against his in a little cheers before you both simultaneously stuffed the whole thing into your mouths in one go. Looking at him with his puffed-out cheeks, knowing that yours definitely looked exactly the same made you burst out laughing, and your hand flew up to cover your mouth and keep any crumbs in. Sungchan was clearly struggling to not spit out his half-chewed food as he started laughing too, turning away from you and slapping his leg.
When you had finally chewed and swallowed the bread without choking, and composed yourself again, you turned back to Sungchan, still well aware of the faint, smitten smile on your lips. He was already facing you, watching you with a fond sparkle in his eyes. He reached out, brushing a couple crumbs from the side of your mouth with his thumb.
“Oh, thanks.” You habitually wiped the other side of your mouth just in case.
“I’m curious…” He said quietly, grabbing one of your hands to gently play with your fingers. “Have you picked out what we’re doing for our first date yet?”
“Maybe.”
“Maybe?”
“I don’t want to spoil anything.” You then added a teasing, “Plus, we have to get home first. Who knows, your car might get another flat on the way back and then we’ll get stranded out here and die.”
He burst into soft chuckles. “Since you won’t be navigating, I think we’ll make it back just fine.”
“I like those odds,” you beamed.
“Me too.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, then murmured by your ear, “I like our odds a lot, I think.”
The next day found you in the passenger seat of Sungchan’s car, wearing his hoodie and humming along to whatever he was playing over the speakers. The car had a full tank of gas, four inflated tires, and the maps app was not in your hands.
“You know, I get it now,” Sungchan spoke into the peaceful quiet abruptly.
You lolled your head over to look at him questioningly. “Get what?”
“Why you were suspicious of me at first.”
“You finally realized how stupidly hot you are?” You snorted, reaching over to pinch his cheek.
“I’m thinking I should’ve been more suspicious of you, actually.” He pinched your cheek right back, and you smacked his hand away. He just laughed, grabbing your hand and entwining your fingers over the console.
“Why’s that?”
“We haven’t even been on our first date and I feel like I’ve gone head over heels right down the mountainside.”
You groaned and shook your head. “I was suspicious of you for the wrong reason. You’re not a player or anything, you’re actually too sweet for my own good.”
“Your own good?”
“Yeah, you keep saying shit like that and I’m going to do something crazy like say ‘I love you’ on our first date.”
He laughed, squeezing your hand. “Challenge accepted.”
Ally's physical acting is just incredible. I know that the sound effects and editing add a lot, but there is no reason for them miming the act of kicking themselves in the face to be so accurate and viscerally hilarious
⏯ word count: 16.6k
⏯ warnings: general angst around not knowing what you’re doing with your life, the usual cursing
⏯ genre: fluff, suggestive/steamy but no actual smut, strangers to lovers, band au, punk drummer!sungchan, office worker!reader, not really badboy x good girl trope, more like sungchan has tattoos and reader is… a bit boring and hates her job. but she’s trying!, reader is having a quarter life crisis, ft. shotaro/eunseok/wonbin as sungchan’s bandmates, and nct dream 00 line as reader’s normal friends™
⏯ author’s note: take a shot every time i say ‘tattoos’ in this fic, and you’ll die of alcohol poisoning!
⏯ now playing… quarter life – txt | NEED (ooo-eee) – løren | medicine – woz
“If you really want to do something brand new…” Sungchan took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”
“You still haven’t told me what you do.”
“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”
“Y/N’s hit her quarter-life crisis,” Jaemin announced for you as the two of you joined your other friends at dinner.
You groaned and dropped your head in your hands, already regretting telling him your idea.
“24…” Renjun muttered to himself, then said louder, “Hey, life expectancy of 96, not bad.”
“So what is it?” Donghyuck grinned. “A tattoo? Nipple piercings? I can’t see any hair dye or choppy bangs done with kitchen scissors, so—”
“Don’t give her any ideas.” Jaemin shot him a disapproving look.
“So she doesn’t know what her quarter-life crisis is going to be yet? She’s… planning it out?” Jeno asked skeptically.
“No. She’s decided to do one spontaneous and/or new thing every day,” Jaemin explained your idea to the group.
“Oh. That’s not so bad.”
“So you’re in your manic pixie dream girl era… at 24,” Renjun nodded slowly.
“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes, sitting up straighter as you went to defend yourself. “It’s not a… thing. I’m just tired of feeling like my whole life is filler, okay?”
“Main character syndrome,” Donghyuck declared.
“No, I’m not going to expect the entire world to revolve around me and call random people in public NPCs,” you retorted. “I just want something different in my life, alright? You know I’ve never even gotten drunk?”
“24 is not the time to start,” Renjun stated disapprovingly.
“Exactly, we’re not 19. Can’t get blackout and snap back the next day anymore.” Jaemin shook his head.
Donghyuck looked a bit miffed at Jaemin’s advice. “Speak for yourself.”
“I’ve barely been tipsy,” you pointed out.
“So you’ve always had a prefrontal cortex, unlike us. Congrats,” Jeno shrugged. “I don’t think that’s a bad thing?”
“I’m the boring friend, aren’t I?”
“Boring isn’t bad!” Donghyuck tried to reassure you.
“So I am,” you huffed, dropping your cheek into your palm.
“You’re plenty of fun, Y/N,” Jaemin promised, rubbing your arm soothingly.
“If we didn’t like you, and didn’t have fun with you, we wouldn’t hang out with you,” Jeno pointed out, actually sort of making you feel a little better.
“I’m fun like rotting in bed all day is fun.” You knew you were just pouting now, but you were finding it hard to shake your sullen feeling.
“Exactly!” Donghyuck said brightly.
“Shut up!” Jaemin hissed at him, and you heard a sudden yelp as you imagined that Jaemin had kicked your other friend under the table.
“Y/N, do what you need to do.” Renjun leaned forward across the table. “We’re your friends, so here’s the obligatory: don’t die, don’t get maimed, and if you do something illegal, don’t get arrested.”
“This is why I didn’t want to tell you guys. I’m not even doing crazy things. Yesterday I walked home instead of taking the subway,” you informed them glumly.
“That’s new!” Jaemin cheered supportively, squeezing your shoulders.
“Yeah, whatever…”
Clutching your tote bag strap tighter to your body, you turned onto a street, trying to ignore the sun that was getting lower in the sky. Surely this way would lead towards your apartment. You’d lived in this city your whole life, you could walk from your work to your home, two places that you went to every single day.
There was a tall man outside one of the shops on this street, and you went to skirt around him on the sidewalk as he swept a few stray leaves and dirt out of a bookstore. Other than him, the street was fairly quiet, many of the stores having already closed up for the day.
“What are you doing?” The young man called out to you before you could fully pass him by.
You pivoted around on your heel, quickly looking around to see if there was anybody else that he could possibly be talking to. But it was definitely just you and him.
He looked about your age, wearing a cream pink long-sleeve button down presumably as part of the store uniform, though you weren’t sure if he really needed to have it buttoned all the way to the top button. It seemed a bit too warm out for that.
“Walking. Why?”
“This is the fourth time you’ve walked by here.” He did a sweeping point to the sidewalk in front of the shop, then leaned against the broom he had been cleaning with. “Wasn’t sure if you might have a particular destination in mind.”
“Fuck! I knew I was going in circles!”
“You’re lost.”
“Yeah, this isn’t my normal way home…”
“And your phone died?” He cocked his head curiously.
“No, I’m trying to get home without using my phone map,” you admitted, looking around for any familiar landmarks.
“Why? That’s what it’s for.”
“It’s… You’ll think it’s stupid. My friends did.”
He shrugged. “Probably. But why does that matter to you? I’m just some guy.”
“I’ve been doing something new every day. Just small things. But if I change enough little things, then everything will have changed.”
The guy was quiet for a beat, looking altogether unimpressed, then asked, “Where do you live?”
“Uh…”
“General area, see if I can give you directions from here.”
“Oh, uhm, if you can get me to the tea shop on Magnolia, I can get myself home from there.”
“Jade Gardens, I know it,” he nodded, then pointed left down the street, in the same direction that you had just come from. “That way, left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, another right onto Broad Street, it’ll eventually dead end into Magnolia, keep going until you see the tea shop.”
“Left onto North Oak, right onto Foxtail, right onto Broad,” you recited. “Got it, thank you!”
“Stay safe.” He waved you off, returning to sweeping without seeing if you had gone the way he’d pointed you.
It was Monday that you got lost and were given directions home by the questionably friendly but overall helpful bookstore worker, and the tea shop on Magnolia had been on your mind since. So on Thursday, you decided to stop by after work. You were running low on the green tea that you usually kept in stock at home, and thought that you might pick up something new for yourself.
Opening the door to Jade Gardens that Thursday, you were enveloped by the familiar aromatic smells wafting around the small shop. When you didn’t hear the usual kind voice of the owner, Mrs. Choi, greeting you, you peered around the aisle that you were in to look for her.
“Mrs. Choi?” You called out, also not hearing her TV show that she usually was watching behind the counter between helping customers. You were by the black teas anyway, so you didn’t mind wandering into the next aisle as you looked for any other sign of life in the shop.
“She’s not in,” a voice that was definitely not Mrs. Choi informed you right as you turned the corner into the beginning of the green teas. You could see enough of the man’s profile to recognize him as he stood by some of the shelves in the store. The worker from the bookstore. He was standing over an open cardboard box, a couple tins of tea in his hands.
“Uhm…” You trailed off, blinking at him as you weren’t sure exactly what to say. He placed the tins on the shelf.
“You think I’m stalking you, don’t you?” He said flatly, turning to show you the name badge on his longsleeve teal shirt. It was metallic gold, with the name SUNGCHAN engraved into it. “I work here too. For the past six months.”
“Oh, right.” You relaxed, flashing him a smile. As he went back to restocking and you went back to looking at the tea on the shelves that he wasn’t currently stocking, you commented lightly, “I’ve never seen you here before.”
“I work Tuesdays and Thursdays. You ever been here on a Tuesday or a Thursday?”
“No. I always come on Sundays.”
“There you go.” He had emptied the box of product he was restocking from, and carried it into the back. When he reemerged, he stopped behind the register, but engaged you in conversation again, “So is this your new thing for today? Coming on a Thursday instead of Sunday?”
“Yeah.”
“And? Is your whole life different yet?”
“I’ve only been doing this for two weeks…” You replied defensively, looking over at him from the two kinds of green tea that you were debating between.
“Have you done anything new yet?” Sungchan asked, arching an eyebrow.
“That’s the whole point—”
“From what I know, as some guy who doesn’t even know your name, is that you have walked home from work without using the maps on your phone—something you would have done anyway—and gone to a shop that you go to regularly, just on a different day of the week. Have you done anything that you’ve never done before at all?”
“My name is Y/N, by the way.” You bit the inside of your cheek, and grabbed your tea selection. “Ordering a drink I’ve never tried at my usual boba place doesn’t count, does it?”
“You already know the answer, Y/N.”
“The point isn’t to quit my job and travel the world and completely overhaul my life—”
“I thought it was to change everything?”
“If I change enough little things, then—”
“—everything will have changed.” “—everything will have changed.” The two of you finished at the same time, Sungchan putting more emphasis on ‘everything,’ a pointed look on his face.
“I just don’t get how everything is supposed to change by you coming to a tea shop on a different day one time, but still working the same job you hate,” he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest.
“How do you know I hate my job?!” You retorted, bringing your selections up to the counter.
“If you loved it, you wouldn’t be in a crisis about changing your whole life.”
“Do you like your two jobs?”
“They’re fine.” He shrugged, ringing up your purchases.
You handed him your card. “Fine?”
“They’re just my day jobs.”
“And what’s your night job then?”
A smirk grew on his face as he bagged your tins of tea. “Nah.”
“‘Nah?’” You repeated incredulously.
“You’re not doing anything new. No point telling you.”
“If it’s stand-up, I don’t want to know,” you snorted.
“It’s not stand-up.”
“Mm, I don’t know, you’re giving me real stand-up energy right now,” you snipped, gesturing to his entire demeanor. “I’m really glad you haven’t told me, actually, because I can’t control my face when I’m told bad jokes.”
“I don’t do stand-up comedy,” he reiterated with the same calm, self-assured tone, handing you your bag of tea and receipt.
“Considering you’re refusing to tell me, I’m convinced it’s like, open mic nights. Tight fives, not even a full—”
“Not stand-up,” he said again. “But considering how badly you’re begging me to tell you—”
“Pretty sure you’re the one desperately trying to convince me you don’t do stand-up, but—”
“If you really want to do something brand new…” He took your receipt out of your hand, writing on the back of it with a pen that was on the counter. “Make this your thing for tomorrow.”
You accepted the receipt when he held it back out to you. “You still haven’t told me what you do.”
“Live a little. And bring some friends, yeah? Don’t want you getting lonely in the mosh pit.”
Your eyes scanned the address and time he had scrawled on your receipt. “Mosh pit?”
“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck declared from beside you as soon as your group of friends entered the basement of the building that Sungchan had given you the address to. It was already packed with people, dark, and loud.
“Nobody drink anything!” Jaemin hissed, clutching onto your other arm. “Especially Y/N! Getting drunk is one thing, I don’t want getting roofied to be on your bucket list.”
“It’s not, Jaem,” you retorted. “Trust me.”
“Why the fuck are we here again?” Renjun yelled from behind you over the din of the crowd.
“Y/N met some hot guy—Ow!” Donghyuck had gotten cut off by you stomping on his foot.
“Sorry, it’s so crowded in here!” You glared at him. “I didn’t say anything about what he looked like. I needed something new to do for today, this seemed as good an option as any.”
“Okay, well, what the hell is this? Basement party?” Jeno asked, next to Renjun.
“I think it’s a concert?” You couldn’t see anything over the heads of the other people. “He said something about a mosh pit…”
They all exchanged a look.
“We’re going to fucking die,” Donghyuck repeated.
A roaring started up in the crowd, and you looked around in bewilderment to see what had gotten them all excited. In the far corner of the basement, it looked like a band was getting set up to play, two guitarists, a bassist, but it was the drummer that made you do a double take. You couldn’t be quite sure from the distance, the poor lighting, and the fact that the tank top he was wearing exposed two sleeves of tattoos along rather defined arms that you had never previously seen unclothed, but… that might just be Sungchan.
“We need to get closer,” you declared to your friends, yanking Jaemin along with you.
“What?!” Renjun yelped, following you nevertheless.
“Did you forget the part where he apparently said mosh pit?” Donghyuck scrambled after you.
“At least let Jeno be our human shield!” Jaemin pleaded with you.
“Thanks for volunteering me, Jaemin,” Jeno snorted, but willingly took the role, stepping in front of you to clear a path a bit easier than you had been doing on your own.
The five of you stuck out a bit, you noticed. You hadn’t exactly been given a dress code, nor a description of what to expect, so you did unfortunately stick out like a sore thumb among all the black, leather, and more black. It wasn’t that you were wearing a rainbow so much as you were clearly wearing something… uptight in comparison. Corporate. All you had was work clothes, and stuff to go to work dinners in. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d gone out to something even remotely like this. You’d done your best to dress down without wearing pajamas, but it was obvious that you were out of place.
Finally, you got close enough to the band to be able to make out the drummer’s face. He was looking down, making a final adjustment to his instrument, and when he looked back up, he pushed some of his hair out of his eyes. Definitely Sungchan. So this was his night job. Drummer. For just a second, his gaze flicked over the crowd, and you couldn’t be absolutely sure—after all, it was packed in there—but you swore he saw you for a second, surprise on his features for a moment before a cocky smirk overtook it.
One of the guitarists said something, they all had mics, you were pretty sure he was introducing the band or something, but this close to the speakers, all you could do was feel the words in your chest, not hear them with your ears. And when the music actually started, you felt like it was rearranging your brain matter. The crowd didn’t seem to really know the songs, as nobody sang along, but they were having fun nonetheless, dancing, jumping, and headbanging. As you got on your tiptoes to keep peering over Jeno’s shoulder at Sungchan, you found yourself bouncing along to the beat. Someone must have bumped into Renjun, as he stumbled into your back, and you let out a squeak and latched onto Jeno’s shoulders to avoid losing your balance.
“What is going on back there?” Jeno turned around.
You looked back at Renjun as well, who was now squeezing himself in between you and Donghyuck. Just behind and to the side of you, closer to the middle of the crowd, something was going on. Everyone was moving around a lot more, and… shoving each other?
“Mosh pit,” Renjun shook his head.
You kept your grip on Jeno’s shoulders, using them as leverage to stay on your tiptoes as you watched the performance. They had a lot of passion, you couldn’t deny that. You thought that maybe if you could actually parse out more of the melody and words being sung, you might even like their music.
Then it was over after what felt like less than a handful of songs. One of the guitarists seemed to thank the crowd briefly as Sungchan sat and spun one of his drumsticks mindlessly. And then they were done. The guitarists and bassist took their instruments with them as they disappeared into an adjoining room, and Sungchan stood up and took his sticks.
“They’re done, are we done?” Renjun requested.
“Sure, sure,” you agreed, having satiated your curiosity.
Back on the street, everyone let out a simultaneous breath of relief. Your lungs were happy to be inhaling fresh air again, and the sounds of the city streets at night felt quiet in comparison to that basement.
“My ears are ringing,” Jaemin groaned.
“Mine are bleeding,” Donghyuck scoffed.
“They weren’t that bad, Hyuck,” you rolled your eyes.
“Okay, which one was he?” He pointed an accusing finger at you. “Bookstore-slash-tea shop guy. Which one was he?”
“What?”
“He was in the band, wasn’t he? That’s why he invited you, that’s why you’re not agreeing with me right now. No way you actually liked that noise. So? Which one?”
“You’re annoying.”
“Bet he was the bassist,” Renjun took a crack at guessing. “Totally your type, Y/N.”
“I think it was the frontman, he would’ve been the only one shameless enough to beg for girls to come to their shows,” Jaemin retorted.
“Definitely not the drummer, did you see those tattoos? Our Y/N wouldn’t have gone to some random address that a guy like that gave her,” Jeno snickered.
“I’m not prejudiced, assholes,” you replied, a bit miffed when Jaemin and Renjun nodded their heads in agreement at Jeno’s assessment.
Jaemin gently reassured you, “No, of course not. You just… stick to what you know.”
“Says the four guys who were begging to leave. I thought I was supposed to be the boring friend?”
“There’s a difference between being fun and patently stupid,” Renjun snorted. “Going to a random address that some weird guy gives you falls into the second category.”
“I think it was the drummer,” Donghyuck announced, narrowing his eyes at you. “He invited you, didn’t he, Y/N?”
You poked your tongue against the inside of your cheek. “He was wearing longsleeves…”
“Knew it,” he grinned victoriously. “The other guitarist was blonde. Blondes aren’t your type.”
“So I’m predictable even when I’m trying to be unpredictable?” You groaned.
“Uh-huh.”
“We’re still getting food, right?” Jeno asked hopefully.
“Hell yeah,” Donghyuck threw an arm around your neck and shook you around. “On Y/N!”
You elbowed him in the side. “Yes to food, fuck no I’m not paying for you again Hyuck. Freeload off someone else.”
“It’s not freeloading, it’s compensation, for the damage that your boyfriend’s shitty band did to my eardrums.”
“I don’t even know him, you dick.” You shoved him off you this time, inadvertently directly into Renjun, who complained loudly at being collateral damage. “Sorry, Renjun.”
“Push him off a bridge next time, not into me,” he scoffed, straightening his clothes.
“You’ve got to stop letting him rile you up, Y/N,” Jaemin advised you, looping his arm with yours.
“Says the man who was literally threatening to run him over two days ago.”
On Monday, you walked down the street with a particular destination in mind this time. You pushed the door to the bookstore open, making the bell above it ring lightly. The inside smelled like old books and pine.
“Sorry, we’re actually about to…” Sungchan trailed off when he looked up from the register and spotted you.
“Are you closing? I can go,” you offered, already sheepishly backing up towards the exit again.
“No, you can stay. Just turn the closed sign around and flip the lock for me, will you?” He gestured to the door.
You did so, and took a few hesitant steps further into the shop as he went back to closing out the register. You were admittedly staring at him a little, trying to line up the visage of the tattooed drummer you’d seen at the show with the man in a cream pink button-up in front of you, no visible body art in sight. His hair was nicely parted and styled to show some of his forehead; he could even blend in at your office.
“Wasn’t expecting you to actually show up,” Sungchan said, pushing the drawer of the register closed.
You rolled your eyes. “Do I really seem like that much of a drag?”
“You’re wearing a pantsuit.”
“It’s a blazer and slacks! That’s not—” You looked down at your own clothes, cutting yourself off with a huff. “Point taken. From the man wearing a pink button-up.”
“Uniform.” He indicated to the shop around him generally. “I’d wear the short-sleeve option, but I have to look… how’d Mr. Kang put it? Respectable.”
“Mm, of course. I almost didn’t recognize you without the sleeves and with the… sleeves,” you finished awkwardly, trying not to picture his biceps right in that moment.
He chuckled, sitting down on a stool behind the counter. “So who was the guy?”
It took you a second to follow his leap in conversation, and even then, you didn’t quite stick the landing, only able to explain, “The guys were my friends. You told me to bring some, if you’ll recall.”
“I meant the one that you were hanging onto the whole time.”
“I didn’t realize you were watching me the whole time,” you teased, tilting your head.
“You picked a spot right in front of me. Couldn’t help but notice.”
“Jeno is my friend, as I just said. He’s sturdy, I was trying not to fall over.”
Sungchan looked at his phone. “Have you done your new thing for today?”
“By your standards? No.”
He stood up, grabbing a backpack from the ground to sling over his shoulder and jerked his head towards a narrow hallway behind him. “Come on.”
With the voice of Jaemin nagging you in the back of your mind, you followed him. At the end of the hallway was the back door of the bookstore, which led you into the alleyway between rows of shops. Sungchan locked up behind you, then dropped his bag at his feet and opened it.
“Where are we going?” You questioned.
“Food. You haven’t had dinner, have you?” He replied, starting to unbutton his shirt from the collar.
You failed to come up with an answer as he untucked it and slipped one arm out. “What are you doing?”
“Changing my shirt.” He stared back at you, the button up hanging off of one arm. You could see now that the tattoos extended onto his pecs as well. “Turn around if you want.”
Feeling like you were losing some kind of challenge, you turned your back to him, continuing your previous conversation instead. “No, I haven’t eaten.”
“Neither have I.” The zipper on the bag opened.
“But what if I’ve been to the place before?”
“I don’t think you have.” Zipped back up.
“If you told me the name—”
“Ready,” Sungchan declared, stepping up next to you. He was now in a dark shirt that had the logo of what you were sure was another band on it, and a worn leather jacket with an assortment of patches. He ran his fingers through his hair, intentionally shaking it out of the nice style from before and into a more natural, messy state. He took off down the alley, leaving you to follow after him.
“You’re not going to tell me the name of the place we’re going, are you?” You sighed.
“No.”
“What if I have allergies?”
“Do you?”
“…No.”
Sungchan turned down another street. “You left early. You missed the other bands.”
“Didn’t know there were other bands, and my friends were hungry.” You shrugged, opting not to tell him that your friends hated his music and had been begging you to leave. And that you didn’t put up a fight about going.
“Leaving after four songs to get food. Your friends sound lame.”
“They’re fun,” you immediately went to defend them. “I’m the boring one out of us. They’ve at least actually gotten drunk.”
The two of you had reached a crosswalk with the stop hand lit up. You stopped and pressed the button to wait for it to change. Sungchan paused just long enough to look both ways, then took your elbow in a loose grip and pulled you into the empty crosswalk.
“Let’s go.”
“What are you—”
“There’s nobody coming.” His hand slid down your arm to grab your hand as he walked backwards in front of you, gesturing widely with his other arm. “See? Not the end of the world.”
“I’m going to laugh if you trip over the curb behind you,” you informed him mildly, already eyeing the approaching sidewalk.
“If I fall, I’m taking you down with me.” He grinned.
“And you’ll break my fall.”
“Like in every good rom-com.”
“Are we making bets on if you’ll have a first- or second-degree concussion from hitting your head on the pavement?”
Sungchan turned around then, just in time to step up onto the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street. He smiled down at you smugly, and you made a small ‘hmph’ sound in the back of your throat. You noted that he didn’t let go of your hand as you kept walking. You didn’t shake him off.
“How far away is this place?” You checked the time on your phone. “I have work in the morning.”
“Not too far. I can’t be out late either. I have practice tonight.”
“You called the bookstore and the tea shop your day jobs, and the band is your night job…”
“Uh-huh.”
“We didn’t have to pay a cover or anything to get in on Friday. How much does your night job actually pay?”
“That one was for fun. And a twelve-pack,” he answered nonchalantly. “Where we are now, a gig is a gig.”
“They paid you in beer and exposure?” You summarized dryly.
“It was just a friend’s basement, not a real concert venue or anything.”
“Oh, underground. Literally.”
He snorted. “You’re hilarious.”
“I try.”
“Maybe you should do stand-up.”
“No thanks, my day job is paying me just fine.”
He clicked his tongue. “And yet you hate it.”
“Your words, not mine.”
“You’ve yet to tell me otherwise.”
You sighed, but unfortunately, you couldn’t outright disagree with him. The two of you turned onto another street, where you bumped up into the back of a line for a food truck. Sungchan stopped you there, letting go of your hand to reach into his jacket and pull out his wallet.
“You got cash on you?” He asked, flicking through the bills in his wallet.
“No, do I need some?” You only had your phone and your credit cards.
“They’re cash only,” he nodded towards the food truck. “It’s fine, I’ll pay.”
“Sungchan, you don’t have to,” you insisted. “We can just eat somewhere else.”
“My idea, you didn’t know, I’ll pay.” He shook his head. The line moved up then, and he urged you forward with a hand on the small of your back. “Unless you think I’m broke because I don’t have some office job that I hate like you.”
“I didn’t say that! But you did just tell me you recently got paid in beer and exposure.”
“And have two other jobs,” he reminded you.
You didn’t outright accept his offer, but didn’t argue anymore. Getting on your tiptoes, you tried to look for a menu over the other customers in line.
“What do they even have?”
“Changes every week. We’ll find out when we order.”
“What if you don’t like what they’re selling this week?”
“What do I keep telling you? Live a little.”
“Fine.” You dropped back down to flat feet with a sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “How do you know about this place?”
“Couple of my friends run it, when they’re not playing.”
“They’re in a band too?”
“Uh-huh. That’s why it’s only open once a week. They’re performing or rehearsing every other day.” The line moved up again.
“Why have a food truck then? Food trucks run on narrow margins, they can’t be making enough money to cover their living expenses if they only do it once a week.”
“It’s not their day job. Music is.” He pointed to a piece of paper that was taped onto the side of the truck, the handwriting so faded you could barely make it out. Sungchan told you what it said anyway, “All the profits go to a local women’s shelter. And a lot of their ingredients and other stuff is donations, makes the margins a little less narrow.”
When you looked up at him curiously, he simply added, “The most punk thing you can do is help people.”
The two of you were finally at the front of the line, and a man’s head popped into view at the window. With the t-shirt he had on, you could see the tattoos that seemed to cover every inch of skin from his knuckles to his neck, the ink looking well-settled. He had gauges in his ears, the jewelry a bright rainbow of colors, and you couldn’t even count how many other piercings he had in addition to those. He seemed older than yourself and Sungchan, maybe late thirties or even early forties if you had to guess, a few specks of grey peppering his stubble.
He flashed Sungchan a bright smile as soon as he recognized him, deep crow’s feet around his eyes. “Hey, Sungchan! How are you? Sorry we missed your set Friday, SooSoo was up all night with a fever.”
“Don’t worry about it. Is she feeling better?” Sungchan asked.
“Yep, fever finally broke at like three in the morning Saturday, back to her normal self by Sunday.”
“Good to hear.”
“Anyway, let’s get you some food. I’m sure you didn’t bring your girl all the way out here to hear about my sick baby,” the older man chuckled.
Sungchan just laughed along and put in your orders. When the man turned around to help the other worker, a woman, prepare the food, you looked up at him suspiciously.
“Hm?” He had apparently noticed your look. “Oh, sorry, he was talking about his daughter, Yeonsoo. She’s… oh probably six months old now? Real cute.”
“I wasn’t—”
“Here you go.” The man was back at the window, two paper baskets of food in hand.
Sungchan went to grab a few bills out of his wallet. “How much?”
“On the house.”
“Jay, come on. Seriously, man, how much?”
“I’m serious, no charge tonight.” Jay shook his head. “You’ve never brought a date. So say thank you, don’t keep her waiting, and stop holding up my line.”
Sungchan sighed, stuffing the bills he had already grabbed into the tip jar that was on the counter and taking the food. “Thanks, man.”
“Goodnight, you two!” Jay sent you off with a jovial wave. Before you got too far, you could’ve sworn you heard a woman’s voice ask from inside the truck, “Did you say Sungchan had a date with him?”
The drummer handed you a basket of food as you started a meandering pace down the sidewalk. You took a bite to avoid talking about what just happened, despite the fact that it was very much the only thing you were thinking about.
“Oh, that’s really good,” you said, unable to contain your tone of pleasant surprise.
“I wasn’t going to take you somewhere shit for your new thing,” he replied.
“So if I told you that I had already completed my new thing for today, we would’ve gone somewhere with bad food?”
“Well, no, because I wouldn’t have believed you.”
“Oh, of course,” you scoffed.
“You probably would’ve counted going to see me at the bookstore as your something new, right?”
“I’ve never done that before. I don’t know how that doesn’t count.”
“You have talked to me at the bookstore before. When I gave you directions.”
“Yeah, but that wasn’t on purpose. And I didn’t go into the store, and it wasn’t like, a real conversation.”
“Still doesn’t count.”
“And who assigned you to decide if something counts or not? This is my thing.”
“You’re the one listening to me. I’m just some guy, remember? You could’ve told me to fuck off at any point.” He took a big bite of his food, wiping at the stray crumbs around his mouth with the back of his hand. “So either you’re really easy to peer pressure—which I doubt, considering you’ve never even gotten drunk—or you actually kind of agree with me.”
You were silent, scowling down at your rather delicious food.
“Which is it? Want me to fuck off or am I maybe kinda right?”
“Why do you even care?” You questioned in lieu of an answer. “I’m just someone who you gave directions to one time. Why do you care if I actually change my whole life with my stupid little plan?”
“Who said I care?”
“Then what is all this?”
“I’m not trying to be your life coach, Y/N.” Sungchan shrugged, then his features split into a grin. “But it doesn’t mean I don’t want to be along for the ride.”
You stared down at your feet as you thought about it, about how different Sungchan’s life was from yours just from the brief glimpses you’d gotten of it. Looking back up at him, you nodded. “I could probably use some help brainstorming new things…”
“Deal.”
“Deal.”
“Hell no.”
Sungchan grabbed your arm before you could turn and walk away from him completely. When he’d texted you the address to meet at, you thought that surely the online maps listing hadn’t been updated recently, and it was actually a restaurant or concert venue, or any other litany of things. But no, you were in fact standing in front of a tattoo shop with Sungchan, as your something new for today.
“Not for you, not for you,” he quickly reassured you. “I’m getting a new one. Have you ever been in a tattoo shop?”
You bit the inside of your cheek, looking at the darkened windows apprehensively. “No…”
“I promise you’ll make it out alive,” he teased, to which you shot him an unamused glare. “Let’s go.”
Inside was surprisingly quiet. Rock music played over the speakers at a low volume, and there was already one artist set up with a client, the tattoo gun buzzing as she worked on a large piece on their calf. But really, you’d been in libraries that were louder. Sungchan guided you over to the front desk with a hand on your back, the man behind it already standing up to greet him.
“Sungchan, hey!” The guy beamed, reaching out to shake Sungchan’s free hand. He was younger, around your age, maybe a few years older, with a patchwork sleeve of dozens of colorful, bold tattoos along his arms.
“Hey, Johnny,” Sungchan shook his hand. “How are you?”
“Just got back from doing guest slots out of town, so I’m happy to get back in the groove of my usual shop.” Johnny’s twinkling eyes then focused on you. “And who’s this?”
“This is Y/N.” Sungchan seemed to smoothly sidestep mentioning who you were in relation to him. “You don’t mind if she hangs out during my appointment, right? One guest?”
“Not at all.” The artist then picked up a tablet from the counter. “Let me show you what I’ve got drawn up, hm?”
You peered around Sungchan curiously as they went over the design. It was a black and grey circle of flowers, leaves, thorns, and branches all interwoven together. A few birds hovered along the outside of it. In the corner of the canvas that the sketch was on, you could see the reference photos that Johnny had used, of an old porcelain plate that looked like it belonged in your grandmother’s china cabinet, not on a punk drummer's skin.
“It’s great, man. You nailed it,” Sungchan gave his approval.
“And for placement, you said your back, right?”
“Yeah, I was thinking left shoulder blade?” He shook off his jacket, grabbed the collar of his tank top and took it off in one go. Both him and Johnny moved around so Sungchan could see his own back in the full-length mirror propped up on a nearby wall.
“If you fill up the rest of your back in the future, you’ll have an odd hole in the middle of that shoulder from the center of this tattoo,” Johnny pointed out, tracing where the gap would be on Sungchan’s otherwise bare skin with his tablet stylus. “Unless you were to add something in the middle of this design later on. Depending on the size we do now, that might be difficult.”
“That’s a couple options. What else you think? Upper middle?”
“Yeah, centering it will look good, whether or not you fill the rest of your back, and even if you leave the middle of the ring empty,” Johnny agreed.
“Center it is then.”
“How big are you thinking?” Johnny held his hands up parallel to each other at the top of Sungchan’s spine. “This? A little bigger? I wouldn’t go any smaller or you’ll lose detail.”
“Bigger.”
Johnny moved his bottom hand down. “Hm?”
“Yeah, about that much?”
“I’ll print a couple sizes and we’ll see how it looks.”
As Johnny sat back at the desk to print out the stencils, you walked over to Sungchan, keeping your eyes on his face.
“Whose plate is that?” You asked curiously.
“How do you know I didn’t just find it on the internet and like the design?” He tilted his head.
“The cottagecore vibes really don’t match the rest of your work.”
He looked down at his own forearms and laughed. “Okay, fair. It’s my grandmother’s.”
“Hm.” You couldn’t help but smile fondly at the idea.
Johnny returned then with a couple different stencil sizes, and he and Sungchan went back to the mirror. After determining the size of the design, the area was prepped, and the stencil applied. You watched with interest as the design was transferred from the paper to Sungchan’s skin in purple ink.
“Go check that in the mirror,” Johnny instructed.
Sungchan stood back up from where he had laid down for the application, using a second mirror in his hand to look at it closer. He motioned with his head for you to join him. “What do you think? Is it centered?”
You got up from the stool that you had been given to walk over to the mirror as well, standing behind Sungchan to evaluate the placement of the stencil. “Stand up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, you know you slouch?”
Johnny snickered from his seat.
Squinting one eye closed, then the other, you finally gave a short nod. “Yeah, it’s fine.”
“That’s the best you can hope for with her, Johnny,” Sungchan joked, returning to the padded table to lay down. “‘Fine.’”
You rolled your eyes, but took your seat on the side opposite from the tattoo artist anyway.
“High praise. Let’s do it,” Johnny grinned.
As Johnny got to work, you watched the first few strokes of his tattoo gun with interest, as the ink was deposited into Sungchan’s skin.
“You have any tattoos, Y/N?” Johnny asked, not looking up from his work.
“No,” you replied. Looking at Sungchan’s face next, which was mostly concealed by his arms and the pillow, he didn’t have any outward expression of pain. “Does it… hurt?”
The both of them chuckled, and you tried not to feel patronized, then Sungchan answered, “You ever been scratched by a cat?”
“Yeah…”
“It’s like that, but worse, and continuously.”
“Doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“It’s worse if you’re by bone,” Johnny added. “Or other sensitive areas.”
“Again, doesn’t sound pleasant.”
“An hour or so of unpleasantness in exchange for a lifetime of a cool tattoo,” Sungchan said in a tone of voice that made you think he would’ve shrugged if it weren’t for the tattoo gun currently on his upper back. “Easy trade-off if you ask me.”
“So how did you two meet?” Johnny’s voice didn’t carry any judgment, if anything he almost sounded amused.
“She came by the bookshop,” Sungchan answered simply. “You know, one of my day jobs.”
“Now that makes sense. No offense, Y/N, but you seem much more like a bookstore and coffee shops kind of girl than a basement mosh pit regular.”
You nodded slowly. “None taken… What you see is what you get with me.”
“Oh, she’s been trying new things,” Sungchan chuckled. “She’s been to a show.”
“And? What’d you think?” Johnny looked up at you eagerly.
You were a bit caught off-guard. Sungchan hadn’t even asked you if you liked his band’s performance. He’d commented on the fact that you’d showed up, who you were with, and that you left without seeing the other bands perform. But he never asked if you liked it.
“It was different for me,” you admitted. “Good different. I had fun.”
“Yeah, they’ve got a lot of heart, don’t they?” You could see the tug of Johnny’s smile at the corner of his mouth.
At the end of the appointment, Sungchan had one new tattoo and you were hungry. After paying Johnny and giving the artist your goodbyes, the two of you stepped back out onto the sidewalk in front of the tattoo parlor. It was dark out already, and you looked up at the moon, just past the streetlamp shining down on you.
“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving,” Sungchan declared. “Dinner?”
“Sure,” you agreed. “But, I pick. I’ve already done my one new thing for today, and I’m craving fries.”
“Hard to argue with that.”
The place you had in mind was only a few blocks away from Johnny’s tattoo shop. As soon as you walked in, however, you wanted to turn back around. But you were craving fries and had already been spotted. Jeno perked up curiously from behind the counter, giving you a friendly wave. Honestly, you should’ve considered this as a possibility when you brought Sungchan into his place of work. You smiled back as you stepped up to the register.
“Hey, Y/N,” he greeted you brightly, clearly interested in who you had with you, but not outright asking as his gaze strayed over to Sungchan.
“Hey, Jeno,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were working tonight.”
“Coworker got sick, I picked up a shift,” he explained. “So what can I get you? Your usual?”
“Just the fries and milkshake.” You then pointed to Sungchan with your thumb. “And whatever he wants. I’m paying.”
“Y/N—” Sungchan was clearly about to argue.
“You got it last time. Kind of.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “And they take card here. So order.”
He held his hands up. “Alright, alright.”
Picking a table in the corner as far from the cash register as you could get, you waited for Jeno to call your order number out as usual. Except this time he brought the food right out to your table on a tray. You eyed him suspiciously as he walked over.
“Here’s your food,” he smiled brightly at the both of you, taking the food off the tray to set the individual items in front of you.
“Right, thanks, Jeno,” you said. When he was still standing there after he was done, you looked at him more pointedly, “I’m not tipping you again if that’s what you’re waiting for. Goodbye, Jeno.”
“Enjoy your meal!” He took off back behind the counter.
Sungchan watched him for a moment before turning back to his food. “He was at the show.”
“Yeah, he was.”
“Your sturdy friend.”
“Yup.” You grabbed your first fry.
“The show, that reminds me—” Sungchan stopped in the middle of his sentence, sandwich halfway up to his mouth. “Uh, I think your friend just took a picture of us.”
Your phone buzzed then, and you checked the notification from your lockscreen, letting out a deep sigh. “He definitely did.”
[jeno: attached image]
[jeno: ⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️⁉️]
“Hold on, sorry,” you apologized as you unlocked your phone to properly open the message.
As soon as you started typing a scathing text about privacy, another text came through.
[jeno: FUCK WRONG GROUP CHAT]
[you: wtf do you assholes have a gc without me in it??]
You looked over at the register, shooting Jeno a glare as he was very obviously trying not to look at you. His entire face, ears, and neck were visibly pink from the other side of the restaurant.
[jeno: it was to plan your surprise party last year!]
[jaem: Y/N ON A DATE CONFIRMED???????]
[renjunnie: jeno you’re an idiot]
[hyuck: wait jeno take another picture of his face im trying to see smth]
A large group of teenagers entered then, and Jeno had to quickly put his phone away to take their orders.
Sungchan had been quietly eating his food the whole time, and raised an eyebrow as you put your phone down with a groan. “Everything alright?”
“Sorry about that…” You let out another sigh. “So what you were saying? The show?”
“Oh, I’m glad you liked the set.” He looked almost self-conscious as he spoke, a small smile on his face as he ran a hand through his hair. “You hadn’t said anything about whether or not you actually liked the show, so I figured it might not have been your thing, you know? Or, you at least told Johnny you liked it…”
“You didn’t ask.”
“Didn’t want to seem like I was fishing for compliments.”
“I had fun,” you assured him, grabbing another fry. “I’m still surprised you could even see me. It was packed in there.”
“You were easy to spot,” he teased.
“You didn’t exactly give me a dress code.”
“If I did, would you have been able to dress for it?”
You pursed your lips as you thought for a moment, then relented, “…No.”
He shrugged off his jacket and offered you the garment. “Here, so you’ll blend in better next time.”
You accepted it, already giddy at the idea of a ‘next time.’ “Then how will you spot me?”
“I think I’ll manage.”
[jeno: attached image]
[jeno: no need to see his face, hyuck. its definitely the drummer from the basement]
[hyuck: fuckin knew it]
[jaem: are we SURE those are the same tattoos?? maybe y/n knows another guy with sleeves???]
[renjunnie: still the same gc, dumbasses]
[you: jeno don’t be a weirdo challenge FAILED]
[jeno: definitely the same guy, jaemin]
[you: im gonna get you fired lee jeno]
[jeno: my rent :( ]
[hyuck: y/n out here trying to SILENCE independent investigative journalists and whistleblowers i see 🫵]
[you: OR i was trying to eat in peace and meanwhile you guys are having your weekly ‘being the most obnoxious guy ever’ competition and somehow jeno is winning this time]
[jeno: :(( ]
[jaem: you were on a DATE with drummer guy and didnt tell us???]
[you: omfg because it wasn’t a date? im allowed to hang out with people who aren’t you four]
[jaem: no youre not?]
[hyuck: since when?]
[renjunnie: and since when do you know people who aren’t us lmao]
[you: im gonna block all of you]
[jeno: :'( ]
Thursday night and you were back in the basement. This time you didn’t bring any of your friends, not wanting to subject them to an experience that they clearly hadn’t enjoyed last time, and also to save yourself from having to explain why exactly you were back in the basement again and wearing Sungchan’s leather jacket. Due to the oppressive body heat around you, you just had it draped over your shoulders, but made sure to grab either side and hold it tight to not lose it as you maneuvered through the crowd. You unfortunately barely had time to run home and grab the jacket on your way here, as your boss kept your whole team late after hours today working on an urgent deadline. You were still wearing your work clothes; you didn’t trust yourself to change quickly without freaking out over what to wear and ending up missing Sungchan’s short set.
Just as you had wormed your way into a good enough spot towards the front and near the drumset, the band walked out from the adjoining room, waving to everyone. It was easy to spot Sungchan, not only because he was the tallest, but because he wasn’t even wearing a shirt this time, as opposed to the others, who were all wearing a tank top or t-shirt of some sort. His gaze was very clearly searching the crowd for something, and stopped as soon as it landed on you. You gave him a small wave, and he smiled back as he headed to his spot.
You weren’t sure if they had set up the speakers differently this time, if your ears were just used to the volume now, or if you were positioned better than before, but you could actually understand what the frontman was saying as he introduced the band.
“Hey! How is everyone?” His voice was cheerful, and you couldn’t help but laugh as the crowd cheered back. “First, uh, big thanks as always to our buddy Anton for having us. Second, if you don’t know us, that’s fine, nobody does.”
Everyone let out a unanimous round of chuckles, and the frontman was smiling too.
“Anyway, we are Roses for Eyes. I’m Shotaro, that’s Wonbin—” He pointed to the other guitarist, then the bassist, “—That’s Eunseok over there—” and finally Sungchan, “—And we’ve got Sungchan on the drums. And we’re supposed to be performing for you guys, not reading you our non-existent Wikipedia page. Here’s the first one, ‘Lonely as Mars,’ hope you all like it.”
From the first kick of the bass drum, you couldn’t take your eyes off Sungchan. The music reverberated through your chest, and this time you could hear their voices, and the words they were singing. They were good, you decided, and you liked it. But your focus never left the drummer. He had the same relaxed, easy-going smirk on his face as the last time he played, arms flexing with each hit of his sticks.
The set simultaneously felt like ten years and ten seconds. It was a blur, and before you knew it, Shotaro was once again speaking into the mic to give the crowd another thank you and goodnight. He, Eunseok, and Wonbin took their instruments with them. Sungchan tucked his drumsticks into the back pocket of his jeans as he stood up and followed his bandmates. With no friends urging you to leave, and what certainly seemed like an infinitely long list of reasons to stick around, you stayed put exactly where you were. Exactly where Sungchan knew you were.
The next band had just come out when you felt a hand grab your arm. Turning around, you knew who exactly that hand would belong to. Sungchan had found a shirt somewhere between performing and now, a tank top that didn’t cover much more than before. And despite him having just been performing a few moments ago, nobody in the crowd seemed to notice him, all their focus on the next act.
“You did good!” You had to shout over the music of the band currently performing.
He bent down to talk right into your ear. “It’s loud over here.”
You let him guide you to a corner further back from the crowd with an arm around your shoulders. There were a few other people back there, either smoking, making out, or both. You rested your back against the wall, looking up at Sungchan, who leaned over you with his hand on the wall next to your head. You opened your mouth, about to repeat what you had said out on the floor.
“Fuck, you look so hot in my jacket,” Sungchan groaned, sufficiently wiping all previous trains of thought from your brain. His fingers messed with the zipper teeth of one side, eyes scanning your whole frame.
“I feel a bit silly wearing it with the pantsuit, but I got hung up at work and didn’t want to be late…” You trailed off, noticing that his gaze was definitely now on your mouth. Tilting your head, you asked teasingly, “Sungchan, are you flirting with me?”
“Have been for like three weeks now, thanks for noticing.”
“Unfortunately, we can’t count this as my something new. I’ve been to one of your sets before, at this exact basement,” you sighed wistfully, latching onto his free arm and pulling him even closer to you.
“Mm, good point.” His hand grabbed your waist. “I think we can come up with something to do tonight that you haven’t done before.”
“I think I’ve got one.”
“Oh, here I thought I was the ideas guy?”
You wrapped a hand around the back of his neck, pulling his mouth down to yours. Sungchan let out another low sound against your lips, grip on your waist tightening as he pushed you back into the wall as hard as you were pulling him down with you. He dropped from leaning on his hand to his forearm, caging you in closer. Your hand that wasn’t tangled in his hair was shamelessly feeling up the muscles of his arm and shoulder. When he softly sank his teeth into your bottom lip, you couldn’t help but dig your fingernails into his tricep in surprise, pushing your hips up against his insistently.
“Fuck, Sungchan,” you panted against his mouth when he pulled back for a brief moment of air, his thigh now wedged between yours.
“God, you’re so—” He pressed his lips to yours again, hand at the small of your back to pull you as close to him as possible. If you thought you were warm before packed in the crowd, you were in a stifling heat now, pinned between Sungchan’s body and the wall. He broke the kiss, asking between deep breaths, “Can—Can I take you home?”
“What about the other bands?” You giggled, lips ghosting over his as you spoke.
“Fuck the other bands,” he replied immediately. “As soon I saw you out in the crowd wearing my jacket, could barely focus on the set because you looked so good.”
“Yes, Sungchan.” You kissed him again. “You can take me home.”
As soon as Sungchan’s front door was shut, he had you pressed up against it again. You pulled at his flimsy tank top as his tongue slipped past your lips. Finally, he gave in to your persistent hands and let you pull it off him.
“Honestly, don’t even know why you bother with shirts at this point,” you scoffed, throwing it off towards the side somewhere.
“With how much I’ve spent on tattoos? I agree,” he chuckled, cupping your cheek to pull your mouth to his again.
Still attached to each other, you’d only succeeded at getting Sungchan’s belt unbuckled by the time you made it to his bedroom. Before you could unbutton his pants, however, he stepped back from you, familiar teasing glint in his eyes.
“Well this isn’t very fair, don’t you think?” He gestured between his half-dressed state and your fully dressed self.
“I thought you liked me in your jacket?” You taunted, wrapping the garment tighter around yourself.
“Which is why you’ve got to let me take it off you.” He put his hands together in a pleading motion. “And the pantsuit…”
“Mm, alright.” You dropped your hands from the jacket.
He circled behind you, hovering close to remove his leather jacket from your shoulders, pressing kisses to your neck as he did so. With him no longer blocking the rest of his bedroom from your view, you couldn’t help but be a little surprised at the presence of one thing.
“You know, I was mentally prepared for you to not have a bedframe,” you commented as he took off your blazer next.
“You got mattress-on-the-ground vibes from me and still came home with me?” Sungchan asked incredulously, letting out a breathy laugh. His deft fingers started unbuttoning your blouse next. “I think I’m flattered? And you’ve got to raise your standards.”
You turned around to face him, feeling the smirk on your face as you replied, “Let’s see how high we can raise those standards, hm?”
“Is that a challenge or what?” Sungchan laughed again, wasting no time in attaching his lips and teeth to your neck, dropping your blouse off your shoulders and to the floor.
When the garish blaring of your work alarm came, you reached over to the right to blindly grab your phone off your nightstand. Instead, your hand hit what felt like someone’s face, and you jolted up in bed as they did as well, already swearing.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Sungchan was holding his eye. “What the hell was that for? That’s not my alarm.”
Blinking a couple times to orient yourself first, you then jerked over to grab your phone off the floor on your left side. Sungchan may have had a bedframe, but he did only have one nightstand. You quickly turned off your alarm and fell back onto the mattress. You weren’t going to be able to go back to sleep, having been sufficiently scared awake, but you needed a second to catch your breath.
“Work alarm…” You explained belatedly, in case that wasn’t apparent.
Sungchan made a grunt of acknowledgement, dropping his hand from his face as he laid back down as well. He rolled over towards you, slinging an arm around your waist and burying his face in your shoulder. You stared up at his ceiling, feeling his warm breaths washing over the skin of your arm.
“Mars isn’t lonely,” you blurted out into his still-dark room.
“What?” He mumbled into your shoulder.
“It’s got two moons.”
Sungchan shifted around, propping his head up with his other hand to be able to talk. “Yes… Phobos and Deimos. Named for the Greek gods of fear and dread, respectively.”
“So to be lonely as Mars… with fear and dread as your only companions.”
“That was the idea, when we wrote it.” He brushed hair back from your face. “Don’t tell me the title of one of our songs kept you up all night.”
“No, was just kind of in the back of my mind.” You felt a sudden prickling along your skin as his hand fell to your arm, fingers playing with the sleeve hem of the t-shirt you were wearing—his. Sitting up out of his grasp, you pushed the covers off of you. “I have to get ready for work.”
Sungchan wordlessly watched you gather up your clothes from the floor and get dressed. When you went into the adjoining bathroom to check the tuck of your shirt into your pants and make other adjustments, he followed, leaning in the doorway with a troubled look on his face.
“Am I just something new, Y/N?” He asked bluntly, arms crossed over his chest.
“Am I just entertainment?” You immediately fired back, trying to smooth out a wrinkle that your blouse had acquired from sitting crumpled on the floor all night.
“What? Why would you think that?” He seemed genuinely confused.
“‘I don’t care. I just want to be along for the ride.’” You paraphrased what he said when he agreed to help you with your plan. “Am I just entertainment?”
His features softened. “No, you’re not entertainment.”
You bit the inside of your cheek, shoulders falling as they lost the tension they’d just held. “No, Sungchan, you’re not just something new.”
He walked over to you with a wide grin on his face, cupping your cheek and pressing his lips to yours. You couldn’t help but smile into the kiss too, giving him one more peck before turning back to fixing your attire in the mirror. There was nothing you could do right now about the wrinkles, but you could at least attempt something with your hair.
Sungchan stepped behind you, resting his hands on your hips and pulling you back into him. He placed a few lazy kisses along your neck, murmuring, “I think the pantsuit is growing on me, actually.”
“Then why are you trying to take it off me?” You questioned, grabbing his hand that had been reaching for your blouse buttons again.
“Because I like what’s under it better.”
“Nice try. I have work.” You spun out of his arms, heading for his bedroom door.
Two steps into the hall, you knew something was wrong. There were other voices in Sungchan’s apartment, which stopped when they saw you. As soon as your eyes registered the three men in the living room, you skittered backwards back into Sungchan’s room again.
Practically slamming his door closed behind you, you didn’t let him get whatever surprised statement he had out of his mouth, as you hissed, “Sungchan! Why is your whole fucking band out there?”
“Probably because your work alarm woke them up too,” he laughed, which turned into a yawn as he stretched his arms over his head. “They’re not really early birds…”
“Why are they here?”
“They live here?”
In your rush to get into Sungchan’s bedroom last night, you had somehow missed any signs of three other people living here. You didn’t even hear them come home last night, and you weren’t exactly… quiet yourself. Definitely not three roommates quiet.
“Oh my god…” You sunk down against the door, shaking your head. “I’m just going to stay in here and die, I think.”
“I thought you had work?” Sungchan pointed out smugly.
“Ugh…” You groaned, covering your face with your hands.
“Y/N, they’ve already seen you. Here, I’ll walk you out. Will that help?” He offered, pulling on a shirt and his leather jacket.
“Fine, I’m gonna be late if I stay any longer.”
He held a hand out to you, and you placed yours in it for him to pull you to your feet. “Let’s go.”
The chatter that had started up again in your absence died down as soon as the bedroom door opened. Sure enough, the other three members of Roses for Eyes were sprawled out across the living room exactly where you’d left them. Shotaro was sideways in an armchair, Switch in hand as his thumbs moved over the controls quickly. Eunseok was sleepily eating a bowl of cereal on the couch, while Wonbin didn’t actually look awake, slumped against Eunseok’s shoulder with his eyes closed.
“Morning, guys,” Sungchan nodded to them as you walked by, still ushering you to the door.
Eunseok wordlessly held his hand out palm-up towards the armchair, and you saw Shotaro smack a few bills down into it.
At the front door, you were just ready to leave. Patting Sungchan’s arm, you gave him a nod and hushed, “Bye.”
Turning to grab the door handle, you heard Sungchan’s voice, nowhere near the whisper yours was.
“Baby, you almost forgot—” Sungchan stopped you, grabbing your hand and spinning you back around.
The sudden pet name made your skin burn. “What is it, Sungchan? My phone?” You started patting your pockets.
He took off the leather jacket that he just put on, putting it squarely on your shoulders. “Oh, and—” He cradled your face with two hands, kissing you.
It was short, sweet, and made your knees feel like jelly. When he’d pulled away, still holding your face, you whispered in the small space between you, “I’m going to be late.”
“Have a good day at work.” He smiled, letting you go and opening the door for you.
With a sigh, Eunseok gave the money back to Shotaro.
You weren’t late that morning, thankfully, but your mind was still in the stratosphere as you bustled around the breakroom making yourself coffee. You’d left Sungchan’s jacket hanging off the back of your chair; it wasn’t exactly in dress code for your office.
“Morning, Y/N,” Renjun said through a yawn, shuffling into the breakroom as well. He paused as he seemed to be taking in your clothes. “Am I crazy or did you wear that yesterday?”
“The only thing worse than an outfit repeater is an outfit remember,” you jested back.
“No, I mean like…” He got closer, rubbing his eyes as he peered at your blouse. “You didn’t wash them. They’re all wrinkled and—You got laid.”
“Or I need to do laundry.”
He pointed to your neck. “Hickey.”
“Damn, you caught me breaking my undying vow of chastity—oh wait,” you retorted sarcastically.
He held his hands up. “Hey, no slut-shaming here. Love that for you. One question?”
“What?”
“Was it drummer guy?”
You looked around the breakroom as you stirred sugar into your coffee. “…Yes.”
Renjun chuckled and grabbed a coffee mug. “Something new every day…”
“Why can’t you just get the food delivered?” You complained, pulling Sungchan’s blankets tighter around you as the bed grew cold without him in there with you.
He hopped on one foot as he pulled a shoe on. “Because the delivery charge is as much as the food is, baby. And it’s just around the block.”
You huffed dramatically, watching him start searching the sheets for his phone. He secured it in his hand victoriously, tucking it in his back pocket.
“You could come with me, you know,” he pointed out, mischievous hands already reaching for the covers and pulling them down, revealing your bare legs to the cold air conditioning. “But you’d have to put pants on.”
You yanked the blankets back over you. “I’ll wait.”
He snickered, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Be back in a few.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you sighed, kissing him again.
He dropped one more peck to your forehead before standing up straight and heading out, shutting his door behind him. You snuggled back under the covers, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders as you tried to enjoy the fleeting warmth left over as you scrolled on your phone. Sungchan had only been gone for a few minutes when you heard the front door open again. You perked up with interest. He wasn’t kidding when he said he’d be back soon. Then there were a couple light knocks on the bedroom door. Not Sungchan. One of his bandmates must have come home.
You scrambled to throw the sheets off you and grab a pair of your shorts from Sungchan’s floor, putting your legs through them as you stumbled towards the door. Opening it just enough to peer out, you saw Wonbin on the other side, a plastic grocery bag in his hand. He didn’t seem surprised to see you at all.
“…Hi?” You greeted him hesitantly. You had been seeing Sungchan for a couple weeks now, and had caught glimpses of his roommates around his apartment, but had yet to say much more than the occasional ‘morning’ or ‘night’ or ‘hey’ in passing.
Wonbin held up the plastic bag. “Can you help me dye my hair?”
“Oh, uh, sure.” You looked down at what you were wearing, one of Sungchan’s black t-shirts. “What color? Should I change? Like, is it bleach?”
“Black. That’s fine.” He turned around, walking back down the hall.
You followed him as he opened another one of the doors, this one leading to a bathroom. As he prepped the dye, you read the pamphlet of instructions carefully.
“I’ll do the mixing,” he interrupted your deep focus. “I just can’t see the back of my head.”
“Oh. Okay.” You set the directions down on the counter next to the bottles. “I’ve never done this before… Don’t want to ruin your hair.”
He shrugged, handing you a pair of gloves. “If you miss a spot, we’ll just do it again.”
After Wonbin mixed up the dye, he sat on the edge of the tub for you to stand over him and start applying it to his hair. As you worked the dark dye into his blonde hair, you watched his soft waves straighten out.
“I liked the blonde curls,” you commented, moving onto the next section.
“Me too.” He flicked through his music library on his phone. “Time for something new, you know?”
“Yeah, I get that,” you smiled to yourself, adding more dye.
“What music do you like?”
“Oh, put on whatever you want. I’m trying to broaden my horizons.”
He wordlessly selected a song, a soft guitar melody coming through the speakers. It was so different from the music that you’d heard them perform, your hands slowed as you listened thoughtfully.
“Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?” Wonbin’s question caught you off-guard.
“What?” You parted his hair, double-checking that you had gotten every bit of blonde in that section.
“You’re broadening your horizons.” He picked at his nail polish that was already chipped. “Is that why you’re dating Sungchan?”
“Something like that.” Satisfied that you had fully saturated that area, you went to the next one. “I also just like him.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Why? Because we’re so different?”
“No, because he’s lame.”
You laughed right as you had started squeezing more dye out, missing his head as the liquid dripped right down the back of his neck instead. Wonbin hissed in surprise, shoulders jumping.
“Oh! Sorry!” You were still laughing as you grabbed the end of the towel that was around his shoulders, wiping at the stray hair dye.
Shotaro came home soon after that, joining the two of you in the bathroom, hopping up on the bathroom counter to watch you apply the hair dye. He showed off his new nose ring that he just got, and tsked when he saw Wonbin’s chipped nail polish.
“We’re gonna have to redo that, Wonbin,” the frontman shook his head. “After Y/N’s done with your hair.”
“Once it’s applied, it’s got to sit for thirty minutes,” you recalled the instructions. “Will that be long enough?”
“Plenty.”
You were a little more than halfway done with Wonbin’s hair when Sungchan finally got back.
“Wonbin? Taro? You guys here?” He called out into the apartment. “Y/N’s here too by the—”
He’d poked his head into the bathroom then, brown paper bag of food in hand. You gave him a wave with your hair dye-covered, gloved hand.
“Hi, Sungchan,” you smiled. “That was more than a few minutes.”
“Clearly,” he gestured to the scene in front of him. “I leave you for like twelve minutes and my bandmates adopt you.”
“We can eat once I finish applying Wonbin’s hair dye.”
“Sure.”
“What’d you get?” Shotaro leaned over towards the bag with interest.
“Only four extra crab rangoons. Fight over them however you want.” Sungchan pulled out a smaller bag from within the takeout bag.
Wonbin and Shotaro locked eyes.
“None for Eunseok?” Shotaro proposed.
Wonbin nodded minutely, as much as he could with some of his hair still in your hands. The front door slammed closed then, and they both groaned.
“I smell chemicals!” Eunseok yelled out. “What is it this time, Wonbin? Purple? Red? Both?”
The bassist appeared in the doorway behind Sungchan, peeking over his shoulder at everyone. “Oh hey, Y/N.”
“Hi, Eunseok.” You nodded to him, applying more dye.
“Shotaro, are those crab rangoons you’re hiding behind your back?”
A random Sunday afternoon found you at Sungchan’s apartment, as you seemed to be most days now. If you weren’t at work, at one of his gigs, or with your own friends, it was a safe bet that you could be found there.
He opened the door for you, pecking your cheek in greeting, “Hi, baby.”
“I know what we’re doing today,” you blurted out, before you could lose your nerve. “My something new.”
He tilted his head curiously. “And? What is it?”
You took a deep breath. “I’m going to get my ears pierced. Second lobe piercings, I already have the first done. I’ve been wanting to do it for like forever, but I just… haven’t. It’s allowed at my work, I checked the employee handbook, and asked someone from HR on Friday to be extra sure.”
Sungchan beamed at you. “Hell yeah. We can use Shotaro’s piercer, unless you’ve already looked someone up?”
“Whoever Shotaro goes to will be fine.”
Wonbin was taking a nap on the couch in the afternoon sunlight, and you walked past him to get to the hall where Shotaro and Eunseok’s rooms were. Shotaro’s door was ajar already, and Sungchan pushed it open the rest of the way. The frontman was laid out on his bed upside down, his feet kicked up on the wall as he lazily plucked out a melody on an acoustic guitar. Eunseok was in there too, scrawling away at a notebook at the guitarist’s desk.
“Who do you go to for your piercings?” Sungchan didn’t give either of them so much as a hello.
Shotaro craned his neck to look over at the two of you. “Huh? Oh, uh, Sid, at Black Cat in downtown. Why? What are you getting?”
“Not for me,” Sungchan informed him happily, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
Eunseok’s head snapped up from where he had been focused on his notebook, and Shotaro set his instrument aside to roll over and fully face you.
“Y/N?!” Shotaro’s jaw dropped in delight. “What are you getting?”
“Ah, just my second lobes…” you muttered self-consciously, hands instinctively feeling at the jewelry that you already had in your existing piercings. You pushed further into Sungchan’s side to hide your face from them, especially when the bassist muttered a ‘woah’ at this revelation.
“Sid taking walk-ins today?” Sungchan asked.
“She should be. You know what? I’ll call her right now.” Shotaro eagerly brought out his phone.
After he confirmed that Sid was, in fact, taking walk-ins, Sungchan went to get changed as Eunseok and Shotaro put shoes on as well, ushering you towards the front door. All the commotion woke Wonbin up, as he sleepily lifted his head up and rubbed one of his eyes, watching the four of you.
“Where are you guys going?” Wonbin squinted against the sun.
“Y/N’s getting pierced!” Shotaro announced brightly.
“I’m coming.”
At Black Cat, which you learned was a tattoo and piercing shop, you met with Sid, a young woman who was no older than you, and told her what you wanted. She nodded, looking at your ears for just a second.
“Easy. How old were you when you got the first ones done?” She asked, pulling out a tray of jewelry from under the counter she was standing behind.
“Thirteen maybe? I know it was done with one of those piercing guns…” You admitted sheepishly.
“We don’t use those here.” She shook her head. “Injures the tissue too much. I’ll be using a needle, should take like half a second on each side. I’ll explain everything back at the station where I can show you all the tools.”
You nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll give you a minute to pick your jewelry while I prep the station.” With that, she walked towards the back of the shop.
Everyone huddled around while you browsed through the options, seeming to have their own input. You finally settled on a pair of studs with small diamonds in them, not too outlandish; you’d be able to easily match them with the rest of your jewelry and any outfits you wore to work easily while the piercings healed.
“You nervous?” Sungchan murmured, rubbing your back as Shotaro and Wonbin wandered over towards the other end of the clear case of jewelry, looking at industrial piercings. Eunseok flipped through a book of flash tattoo options.
You shook your head. “No. Excited.”
“So you’re not gonna need to hold my hand?”
“I didn’t say that…”
As Sid walked back over, the others crowded around you excitedly again.
“Do you all really need to be here? It’s not that big of a deal…” You muttered, a bit embarrassed at how hyped they were over you just getting a couple ear piercings.
“I’m with Y/N on this one. Only you can come back.” She pointed at Sungchan. “The rest of you will have to wait up front.”
Sitting on the padded chair at Sid’s station, she walked you through each step and the tools she’d be using first, then marked where the piercings would go on your ears.
“Check the placement.” She handed you a handheld mirror.
You appraised them, then looked up at Sungchan. “What do you think? Even?”
“Sit up straight. And straighten out your shoulders, did you know you slouch?” He teased, grabbing your shoulders and straightening them out for you.
You glared up at him, but fixed your posture nevertheless.
“They look good, baby,” he approved, squeezing your arm.
Sungchan stood off to your side, holding your hand as Sid got ready on the on the first ear.
“Alright. One, two—” At the pinch, you squeezed Sungchan’s hand tighter, face screwing up in surprise.
She moved to the other side. “Next. One, two—” Pinch. “All done.”
“Wooh!” The other three cheered from up front, pumping their fists and jumping up and down.
“Fuck yeah, Y/N!” Eunseok yelled out.
“Baby’s first body mod!” Shotaro pretended to wipe a tear from under his eye. “They grow up so fast…”
“So pretty, baby,” Sungchan kissed your cheek, a wide grin on his face when he pulled back. He wiped at the single actual tear that had spilled over from your own eye. “So proud of you.”
Your face hurt from how much you were smiling, more than your ears did.
“Y/N!” Jaemin stood up from the table as soon as he saw you, pulling you in for a hug. The two of you were meeting up on your respective lunch breaks at a café equidistant from your workplaces.
“Hi Jaem—Ow!” You hissed as his head bumped into your ear.
“What? What’s wrong?” He pulled back, clearly worried.
“It’s nothing, sorry.” You cradled the wounded ear, giving him a reassuring smile. “I finally got my second lobes done the other day and they’re still tender.”
“Let me see!”
You tucked your hair behind your ears to show off the small diamonds. “Just some studs…”
“Cool. They look good.” He was still smiling as the two of you sat down. “What made you want to do that?”
“I’ve been talking about it for a while.”
“Yeah, I know. What made you finally get them?”
“Something spontaneous or new every day, remember?”
“Well, I’m happy you finally did it. Seems your little quarter life crisis is actually working, huh?”
“Sungchan’s been helping me,” you acknowledged, watching his face carefully.
His eyebrows lifted slightly. “The drummer guy?”
“Yeah, I’ve been seeing him...” You sat forward, lacing your hands together in front of you on the table. “Speaking of—Dinner tomorrow, I figured I could bring him? You guys could all meet?”
Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck, tone turning remorseful. “Damn, Y/N, I wish you’d told me sooner. I already made the reservation for five people.”
“You can’t call back and change it to six?”
“Limited space.”
“There’s not a lot of five-person tables. Wouldn’t they be putting us at one that seats six anyway?”
“If I change it, we’ll be bumped to the bottom of the list again.”
“Oh. That’s alright, another time,” you acquiesced as your waiter came over, handing you menus.
“Another time,” your friend agreed.
You were in the ‘green room’ of Anton’s basement, which was actually the laundry alcove that had a few chairs set up for the acts to sit and wait before they went on. All of Roses for Eyes were back there, chatting as the time for their set to start got closer.
“You know what I’m craving?” Sungchan hummed in your ear.
“What is that?” You turned to look at him out of the corner of your vision from your current position on his lap.
“Fries from that place where your sturdy friend works.”
“He has a name,” you laughed, pinching his forearm. “Do you want to go get some after this? They’re open late.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“After the day I had at work, I’ve earned a milkshake,” you sighed, leaning back against him.
Sungchan wrapped his arms around your waist, and you could hear the frown in his voice as he asked, “What happened, baby?”
“You’re about to go on, I’ll tell you later,” you promised. “Just my boss—”
“Yo! Roses!” Anton poked his head into the room just then. “Two minutes! Let’s go!”
You got up from Sungchan’s lap as the others started grabbing their instruments. “I should go grab a spot.”
“Okay…” He cupped your cheek to bring your mouth to his. “See you in a minute, baby.”
“See you.”
You picked your way through the crowd until you found a group of familiar faces: Anton, and two more regulars and friends of Roses for Eyes, Sohee and Seunghan. When the band still hadn’t come out after a few minutes, you got on your tiptoes to look over the crowd towards the green room.
“Wonder what’s keeping them?” You mused, dropping back onto flat feet again.
“Oh, Jay and Hayoung popped in there right after you left,” Anton explained. “Said they wanted to talk to them.”
“I thought they already left,” Seunghan commented.
“No, their tour starts in a couple weeks, I think,” Sohee explained. “Or at least, the tickets I have aren’t until next month.”
“Is that for the Venue:Hell show?”
“Yeah, are you going?”
“Waiting to get paid then I’ll buy my ticket.”
“Anton and I have an extra,” Sohee offered. “He was going to bring that girl he was seeing, but we all know how that worked out.”
“No need to rub it in my face,” Anton grumbled as the other two simultaneously snickered and tried to comfort him. He then turned to you. “Where’d Sungchan find you, anyway?”
“Oh, uh, I got lost and asked him for directions at the bookstore he works at,” you answered, knowing that wasn’t going to help your friend very much.
“You’re useless to me.”
You laughed and patted his back. “I’m sorry, Anton. Maybe instead of trying to find someone the same way Sungchan and I met, you should just try meeting different people. Sungchan could tell that I wasn’t into this kind of stuff at all when we met, and still tried anyway.”
“Alright, got any pantsuit-wearing friends you can set me up with?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
It was then that Roses for Eyes finally started walking out, Sungchan at the front. They seemed to be even more energetic than usual during their set, and you could feel it radiate out through the whole room. You couldn’t stop jumping, dancing, and singing along to the songs that you had finally learned the lyrics to.
When they were done, Shotaro gave their usual thank-you and goodbye before leaving. By the time the next act was starting their first song, Roses for Eyes had joined the rest of you in the crowd.
“You guys did so good!” You praised them, squeezing Shotaro’s forearm as you wrapped your other arm around Sungchan’s waist. “Like, I think that was like the best set I’ve ever seen!”
“Thanks, baby,” Sungchan laughed breathlessly, kissing your temple and pulling you even closer with an arm around your shoulders. “You looked like you were having a good time.”
“She’s right, you guys had a lot of energy up there,” Seunghan complimented them as well.
“What did Hayoung and Jay want, by the way?” Anton asked. “They kept you guys for a while.”
The band exchanged uncertain looks, Eunseok, Wonbin, and Shotaro looking to Sungchan as if waiting for his cue.
He shrugged and squeezed your shoulder. “Just dropping by before they go on tour, you know?”
The rest of Roses for Eyes declined accompanying you and Sungchan for your midnight snack, so it was just the two of you squished into the same side of a booth, Sungchan taking sips from your milkshake as you stole fries from his plate.
“Tell me about work,” he prompted you, nudging your leg with his.
“Oh, God, it was just… long,” you groaned, dropping your head into your hands. “Felt like it would never end. My boss put off starting his part of this project until literally the day before our deadline to send it to the VP, which meant I had to rush to finalize everything. Meanwhile, he was breathing down my neck the whole time about the deadline! Like! Dude, I fucking know! We wouldn’t be cutting it so close if he had done his part earlier!”
“That’s really inconsiderate.” Sungchan frowned, rubbing your back. “I’m sorry, baby, that sounds really stressful.”
“But we got it submitted, so that’s all that matters, I guess,” you sighed. “You were right, Sungchan. I hate my job.”
His hand stilled on your back, just resting there as you sat in the wake of your admission.
“You remember my friends from the food truck?” He asked, abruptly changing topics.
“Yeah, Jay and Hayoung.”
“Well, we actually got an offer to open for their band on tour,” he told you, voice pitching up with excitement. That must’ve been what they were discussing before their set tonight. “It’ll be for a couple months.”
“Oh… congrats. I know this is big for you guys. Have fun.” You smiled, trying to hide the sudden emptiness inside you as you tried to imagine what your days would look like without Sungchan or the rest of his bandmates for two whole months. “When do you leave?”
“Next Saturday. Their original opener dropped out, it was last-minute.”
“Oh. I’ll see you when you get back, then.” You then paused, your mind suddenly changing directions and racing with other thoughts of why he might want to be telling you this. He was a drummer in a band going on their first tour, maybe he’d want the full rockstar experience. “Unless this was something else…”
His eyes widened as he shook his head fervently. “I’m not—I mean, I won’t ask you to wait for me if you want to get on with your life while I’m gone, but I would wait for you.”
“Why not?” You furrowed your brow thoughtfully.
“What?”
“Why wouldn’t you ask me to wait for you? You want me to ask you to wait, but you won’t ask me.”
“Because I’m about to ask you for something even bigger than to wait two months for me to come back.” He grabbed your hand, holding it tight.
“What…?”
“Come with me.”
“What?!” You blinked, for a moment unsure that you had even heard him right.
“On tour. Come with me,” he repeated, as sincere, eager, and genuine as he was in everything.
You immediately stammered out, “Sungchan, I’d have to quit my job—”
“And then when we get back, you can find one that you actually like.”
“If I can even get one.”
“This is exactly what you’ve been trying to do, Y/N. Something new every day.” He was sandwiching your hand between both of his now. “Please, just think about it?”
“Alright, what are you moping about?” Renjun asked, pushing an already-opened beer into your hand as he walked by.
The five of you were over at Jeno and Jaemin’s place for a movie, pizza, and beer night, and the first movie hadn’t even been started yet. As usual, you were an open book to your friends.
“Sungchan’s band is going on tour. For two months,” you told them glumly before bringing the bottle to your lips. “They leave Saturday.”
“They have enough fans to do that?” Donghyuck snorted, picking up a slice of pizza.
“They’re opening for another band.”
“Aw, I’m sorry it didn’t work out, Y/N,” Jaemin went to comfort you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.
You tapped a fingernail against the glass bottle in your hands. “He asked me to go with him.”
“Does he think you can just quit your job for two months and come back and your boss will rehire you?” Renjun retorted. “This guy lives another world, sounds like you dodged a bullet.”
“You’re considering it.” Donghyuck pointed at you knowingly. “If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have brought up that he asked you until after he was long gone.”
You were quiet, looking down at your slice of pizza.
“Are you?” Jeno asked.
“I mean, I’ve been trying to do something different every day—”
“Woahwoahwoah! Seriously?!” Renjun cut you off, waving his hands wildly.
“I have enough in my savings to cover my rent and stuff while I’m gone, plus a few months after I get back while I look for a new job—”
“Holy shit you’re like, serious about this,” Jeno breathed out, blinking in surprise.
Jaemin took over, “When we joked about you having a quarter life crisis, we didn’t mean for you to actually do something like quit your job and go run off to join your punk boyfriend that you barely know on his dirtbag boyband’s tour for months.”
“We kind of figured you seeing this guy was already pushing your limits…” Renjun added.
“Gee, thanks.” You rolled your eyes. “You thought I was—What? Getting it out of my system? Then I’d settle down with a guy who’s as boring as I am?”
“When you phrase it like that—”
“You guys don’t even know Sungchan.” You cut Jaemin off, getting to your feet to face them all as your skin pricked with anger.
“Do you? You’ve been seeing him for like a month.” Jaemin gestured to you pointedly.
“Three. But thanks for proving my point so well,” you snapped. “You haven’t even tried to get to know him! You don’t like his music, fine, I wouldn’t expect you to go back to a show. But you haven’t invited him anywhere and you somehow always have an excuse when I invite you guys to something with him. None of you have even really met him. Not even Jeno from that one time, so don’t try to start that.”
They all seemed to be at a loss for words, looking at each other as if waiting for someone else to say the right thing.
“Y/N, come on…” Jaemin tried again, but trailed off at your furious glare.
“I’m going,” you declared, grabbing your phone from the coffee table. “Unless any of you plan on getting your heads out of your asses in the next five seconds.”
They were quiet again, and you took that as your answer, storming out of the apartment.
“Oh hey.” Eunseok’s face held mild surprise when he opened the door for you. “Sungchan said you weren’t coming over today.”
“Is he here?” You were still agitated from what just happened with your friends.
“In his room.” The bassist stepped back to let you in.
You passed by Wonbin and Shotaro in the living room, a game paused on their TV. They gave you greetings as you walked by, and you tossed a hello back over your shoulder. Sungchan’s door opened before you even got to it, confusion on his features when he saw you there.
“Hey, I thought I heard your voice.” He watched you as you stomped past him into his room. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, baby, but I thought you were hanging out with your friends tonight. What are you doing here?”
“I’m pissed at them.”
“What happened?” He sat down on his bed as you paced angrily in front of him.
“I was trying to tell them about the tour.” You gestured between the two of you. “You know, bouncing ideas off them or whatever. My mind was pretty much made up, I just needed to talk it through. And they couldn’t even be happy for you, or actually listen to me! They just called you a dirtbag and patronized me like a dumb child. Apparently, they’ve just been waiting for me to dump you and settle down with some boring guy that’s better for someone boring like me! They’ve been refusing to meet you, I mean, I can’t believe they think they somehow know anything about if you’re good for me or not.”
Sungchan had been listening patiently while you ranted, and when it seemed like you had come to a stopping point, he asked, “They really said all that?”
“Pretty much, yeah.”
“Pretty much?” He repeated knowingly.
You put your hands on your hips. “They called you guys a dirtbag boyband. And said I was ‘pushing my limits’ by seeing you.”
“‘Dirtbag boyband,’” Sungchan repeated with a laugh. “Yeah, I like that.”
“Of course you think it’s funny.”
“That part? Yeah, I do,” he snickered, holding a hand out towards you. When you had reluctantly put yours in it, he pulled you closer, rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. “The part where they’re being super judgmental and treating you like you can’t make your own decisions? No, I don’t think that’s funny.”
You took a deep breath, already beginning to calm down a little as he continued working soothing circles into your skin.
“You said your mind was made up? Mostly?” Sungchan asked tentatively, eyes focused on your intertwined hands.
“I want to go with you,” you said, watching his head snap up to look at you, his face hopeful. “On the tour. I fucking hate my job and I love you.”
Sungchan’s eyes went wide as he gazed up at you. Then he was yanking you down into his arms, and you let out an embarrassing ‘eep!’ as you threw your arms around his shoulders, trying to find some stability in your sudden change in orientation. He held you tightly, burying his face in your neck. You could feel his smile against your skin.
“I love you too,” he murmured, pulling back to cup your cheek. He was grinning. “I love you.”
Your skin got warmer as you realized exactly what you’d said, but you couldn’t take it back now. You’d said it, you meant it, it was true, and you wanted to say it again.
“I love you.” You repeated, feeling a smile creep across your face.
Sungchan leaned up to kiss you, cradling the back of your head as he pressed his lips to yours. You kissed him back, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pressed even closer to him.
Your phone started buzzing relentlessly in your back pocket then, and you let out an annoyed groan into Sungchan’s mouth. You broke apart just enough to pull out your phone and look at the screen, fully intending on declining the call. Then you saw the caller ID and paused.
“Who is it?” Sungchan asked, kissing along your jaw.
“Jeno.” You continued staring at the screen.
He drew back. “You should answer it.”
“Sungchan—”
“Just see what he wants. Might be important.”
You sighed, and hit the accept button. “What?”
“You picked up! Great!” Jeno sounded genuinely shocked. “Uhm, will you come back?”
“So you guys can continue belittling my life choices? Pass.”
“No, no, so we can all talk. Actually talk this time.”
You bit the inside of your cheek as you sized up your options: staying here with Sungchan, or going back to that unpleasant atmosphere. Seemed like a pretty obvious choice to you.
“Jaemin will apologize,” Jeno added. “He wants to apologize, uh, to you.”
“Why didn’t he call me then?” You asked dryly.
“He didn’t think you’d pick up if he called.”
“I wasn’t going to pick up your call either,” you informed him. “Sungchan said I should hear you out.”
“Oh. You’re with him right now.”
“I’ll come back,” you stated. “But I’m bringing Sungchan.”
You would be feeling awkward right now if you weren’t so pissed off. As soon as Jaemin had opened the door and you saw his face, you just got pissed off all over again. The only thing keeping you here and mostly civil was Sungchan.
“This is Renjun, Jeno, Donghyuck, and Jaemin,” you blandly pointed out all your friends for Sungchan’s sake.
“Hi, Sungchan, dirtbag boyfriend,” Sungchan introduced himself with a broad smile, making the first move to shake all their hands.
Jaemin looked at you incredulously. “Y/N, you told him—”
“They’re your words, Jaemin. Now eat. them.” You said through gritted teeth, arms crossed over your chest firmly.
“I didn’t call you a dirtbag,” Jaemin tried to explain himself to Sungchan.
“Just his band,” Renjun pointed out helpfully.
“I thought it was funny,” Sungchan told him with a chuckle, stepping back to wrap an arm around your shoulders. “Y/N, not so much.”
“Well, she has no sense of humor, as I’m sure you know,” Donghyuck teased.
You rolled your eyes. “I didn’t introduce you guys for you to all pick on me.”
“I think you’ve got a great sense of humor, baby,” your boyfriend reassured you, squeezing your arm.
“So do you have like, a tour bus or something?” Jaemin asked.
“We’ve got a van,” Sungchan told them proudly. “We won’t be sleeping in it or anything, we’ll get hotels.”
“How many tattoos do you have?” Donghyuck flopped back into his armchair.
“What does that have to do with anything?” Jaemin rounded on him.
He shrugged. “Nothing. Just curious.”
“I’ve lost count,” Sungchan answered candidly.
“Cool.”
“Y/N mentioned you worked at a bookstore and a tea shop as well,” Jeno said. “Are they cool with you uh, going so suddenly?”
“I’m a part-timer. My bosses at both places knew what I actually wanted to do when I started,” he explained. “If they still have a spot for me when we get back, that’d be nice, but I don’t expect it.”
“So, are you going to be quitting tomorrow, Y/N?” Renjun’s voice held no judgment, just curiosity.
You nodded. “Yeah. I fucking hate that place.”
“Good. I could tell.”
“When do you guys leave? This week?” Jeno asked.
“Saturday,” Sungchan confirmed. “We’ll be popping back over here in a few weeks for a show at Venue:Hell, though.”
“Are there tickets… left?” Jaemin rubbed the back of his neck. “To the show in town?”
“You want to go?” You blurted out, a little dumbfounded.
“Totally, man.” Sungchan was absolutely beaming. “I’ll get you guys some.”
Donghyuck raised his beer to him before tipping it back. “Hell yeah.”
Later that night, tucked under Sungchan’s covers and curled up in his arms, your fingertips traced the lines of his tattoos as you were slowly lulled closer and closer to sleep.
“Thank you, Sungchan,” you said aloud into the darkness.
“Mm? For what, baby?” He questioned sleepily, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.
“For not giving up on me. Even if you were just tagging along for the ride at the beginning, I would’ve just given up on my stupid little idea to cure my quarter life crisis if I didn’t have someone else doing it with me,” you admitted.
“Thank you for not telling me to fuck off when you had every right to,” he chuckled, tangling his legs with yours. “I love you, baby.”
You turned your head to kiss his hair. “I love you too, Sungchan.”
Imagine you’re friends with someone who hosts a really popular internet game show, and he invites you on a couple of times and you gain a reputation for winning that gameshow. Then, he sets up a show where the whole point of it is that you cannot win the game, just to break your streak of the whole thing. Your trust breaks just a little bit.
Next time, he asks you to put on a mic pack for another episode of the game show, turns out it’s a heart rate monitor for another episode where you have to sit there and be almost tortured as you attempt to keep yourself calm. Your trust is devolving.
Next time, you come on the show, he tells you to go and wait in the green room and locks you in there, he’s a recording on the screen because he’s locked in the bathroom, he’s been there the whole time, you’re forced to do an escape room to go to work. You don’t know if you can trust him anymore.
Next time, you go on the show, you play bingo, you don’t trust him, something’s wrong, he’s been manipulating players to manipulate players into manipulating players. There was no way for you to win this one, not really.
You are a mouse trapped in a maze
You are a performing monkey at the circus
You are the most popular person on TikTok despite not having a tiktok
You are Brennan Lee Mulligan and this is your life. Sam is your boss, your chief scientist and ringmaster. You will never escape.
Just hit me how very black coded of Gorgug admitting that he's always felt like he had to justify his anger and thus his rage.
Like, to me it didn't seem like Gorgug never matched Porter’s energy out of principle like I've seen some people say. But having Zac use the word 'justify' made it click how, yeah, he's a Half-Orc raised by gnomes. He probably grew up subconsciously knowing that he couldn't get mad like other people could without "scaring" other people and being labeled as a problem.
I'm probably just too deep in my conspiracy bag as usual, but I feel like Mazey is the real villain here somehow. Last episode Principal Grix said that the Student Council was made aware of illicit behavior at the party—as far as we know, Mazey was the only named Student Council member that was attending the party.
And this may just be a little fiddling with canon, but didn't Aguefort explicitly say in The Seven that he didn't want there to ever be a Student Government at the school because it would take power from him? But Mazey has apparently been Student Body President since last year?? And yes she may just be a newly introduced character, but I think it's fishy that she appeared only as soon as Aguefort was gone, but everyone already knows her AND she's getting close with the Bad Kids.
Forgot who I initially saw make this theory (may have been on TikTok) but "Copper" "Kipper" = Red Herring? I'm just saying!!!
Some skinny pretty white girl needs to post a tiktok like "Come with me to get a library card 💞💞" and record herself going to the library and filling out the application and etc and it needs to go viral so people start going to the library
a/n: the way I've been in such an Anton mood recently is insane
“Uhhh…who'd you say booked this room for us..?” Anton questioned, his voice cracking slightly.
“Seunghan, why, what's wrong?” You stood on your tiptoes, his 6 foot height blocking you from peaking into the room.
“Fucking Seunghan…” he mumbled under his breath. Letting out a shaky breath, he took a few more steps into the room, allowing you to squeeze through the doorway past him.
Your eyes roamed the pristine hotel room, grazing the lush grey carpeting, the silky white curtains, and the wide screen TV mounted on the wall. It was a very elegant room, and you thanked Seunghan in your head for getting it for you…that was until your gaze landed on the lone king sized bed against the left wall, wrapped cleanly in white silk sheets and decorated with plush pillows and two towels sat at the end of it.
“Oh…” You cautiously glanced up at him, his head turned towards the wall with only his bright red pierced ears peeking through his hair as a hint to the thoughts running through his mind.
You placed a soft hand on his arm, to which he trembled almost unnoticeably. “Hey, it's fine. I can sleep on the floor.” You reassured him. He whipped his head around, revealing that the red from his ears had spread to his cheeks too.
“N-no! I'll sleep on the floor, it's alright!” The determined look on his face told you that he wasn't backing down from this and that there was no point in arguing. You smiled softly at him, warmed by his charming sweetness and slight stubbornness.
“Thank you…Anton…” His pupils dilated and you watched as the splotchy red on his cheeks spread to the rest of his face and his lips parted, taking in a quick and sharp breath of air. Suddenly he spun around, stomping towards the bed and landing face down onto the soft and sweet smelling sheets. You hurried over to him, concerned, and reached him just in time to hear a muffled “...when I catch you, Seunghan…”
After you two got settled in, kicking your shoes off, placing your bags in the corner of the room and plugging your phones in to charge on either side of the bed, he picked up one of the towels folded neatly on the end. He looked up at you as you melted into a large cushioned chair next to the bed, his complexion back to its regular pinkish olive colour. “I'll go shower really quick, ‘kay?” The sun had begun to set, casting an orange light across the room and prompting you two to start getting ready for bed.
“Okayyy.” You smiled happily at him and heard him gasp lightly again before he quickly disappeared into the bathroom.
The sound of the running water thrummed again your ears as you closed your eyes and settled further into the chair, noticing just how soft it really was. Without even realising, you drifted off, the noise of the shower and the comfort of the chair lulling you to sleep.
Your consciousness slowly drifted back to you as you felt a gentle poke to your cheek, your eyes fluttering open and meeting a very familiar face. His wet bangs brushed gently against your forehead and his round doe eyes went wide as he processed you looking at him. He somehow ended up with his back against the wall on the other side of the room within a second, his forehead all the way down to his neck flushed a deep red. “I-I didn't, I mean-”
You took in the sight of him, damp hair, plain grey shirt drizzled with wet spots from where water droplets fell from his hair, black sweatpants emphasising his long legs. And on top of all of that he was blushing. Hard. You couldn't deny how charming he looked in this moment.
You spoke up, ignoring the obvious heat creeping up the back of your neck and up to your ears, “I-I should shower now…”
You picked up the other towel, and some pyjamas you'd folded next to it, and rushed to the bathroom, heat overtaking your face. As you passed him, you could've sworn you could hear his heartbeat, fast and hard against his chest.
Locking yourself away in the bathroom, you gazed at yourself in the fogged up mirror. From the sight of your whole face, a deep crimson colour, you could tell the heat covering your body was not from the humidity in the small bathroom.
The shower passed by in a daze. You couldn't believe how many times your brain replayed the scene of waking up to Anton's face so deathly close to yours. Close enough that his freshly washed bangs left a streak of water on your forehead. Close enough that you could feel his breath. Close enough that you could've kis–
Your hairbrush fell to the floor with a clang, startling you out of your thoughts. You met your own wide eyes in the mirror as his muffled voice coming from outside the door filled your ear. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah…yeah, fine…” You responded, bending down to pick yourself hairbrush back up, a slight uncertainty in your voice.
“Be careful, please.” His soft, concerned voice filtering through the door stuck a needle in your heart and you placed the brush onto the vanity with a sigh.
You rushed through your routine, washing and moisturising your face, scrunching your hair with the towel to dry it as much as you could, and slipping into your pyjamas. Cautiously, you opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out, taking in the room now with the blinds closed and the lamps on each bedside table filling the room with warm yellow light. Anton was seated back in the chair you previously slept in, bringing the image of his face so close to yours back into your mind once again.
You took a step forward and the floorboard creaked under you, catching his attention and causing him to look up from his phone. Instantly, he froze. There was no way he was hiding the almost neon red that covered his face within a second of seeing you. Your damp hair, you draped in a shirt a little too big for you, your shorts barely peeking out from under it. The cold wetness of your hair against the back of your neck contrasted the warmth of your skin as you tried to push down the hard thrumming of your heart.
You walked forward, watching as his adams apple bobbed nervously and his eyes traced over your figure as if he was in a daze. You made your way to your bag, tucking your previously worn clothes into it, desperately trying to ignore the heat radiating from your cheeks. You didn't understand why you suddenly felt this way, why the unfinished fantasy of what Anton could've done that close to your face wouldn't leave your mind.
You slipped between the cold silk sheets as you watched Anton meticulously set up a “bed” on the floor next to you with an extra sheet he found. The pitiful set up had you feeling guilty for making him do this, and a subtle thought poked at your brain, a thought that made your cheeks flare up again for the 20th time that night. “H-hey Anton, maybe I should-”
“No. It's fine. You stay there.” He reassured as he slipped between the thin sheet, barely separating him from the hard ground beneath him. He turned off the lamp on his side and you turned off the other one in response, leaving the room dark and silent. The only thing that broke through the silence was the sound of his soft breathing, somehow loud in your right ear as you stared up at the ceiling. The sound of your heartbeat joined not long after, rippling through your body and keeping you from drifting off to sleep. Minutes passed, though you couldn’t tell how many.
“A-Anton…?” You stuttered softly, to which he responded with a low groan, ringing through your ear and bringing heat to your cheeks. “...are you awake…?” You heard him chuckle lightly.
“Of course,” the sound of rustling fabric came from your right side and you just knew he was shifting around to face your direction, “why, what's up?”
“It's just…it can't be comfortable down there…” Your voice was laced with guilt as you spoke.
“Hey. I'm not making you sleep on the floor…okay?” His concern made your heart flutter in a way you hadn't felt before.
There was silence for a moment and you took a deep breath before speaking again. “Well what if…” you heard his breathing slow to a stop, as if he was holding his breath and waiting for you to continue. “What if…we both sleep…in the bed…”
The familiar sound of a sharp breath in, followed by silence. The silence continued to stretch out with no sign from Anton that he was going to respond. Had he fallen asleep?
You quickly turned over and flicked the lamp on, letting your gaze land on where you knew he was laying on the floor. His long figure, outlined by the thin sheet draped over him, was laid flat on his back, his hands completely covering his face. His ears were once again giving away his true feelings, bright red behind his long black hair. As if it was contagious, your own ears heated up along with your cheeks. “...A-Anton..?” His breath caught in his throat and you watched as he parted his fingers, peeking up at you.
In a weak and almost inaudible voice, he spoke, “Are you serious…?”
You nodded gently, biting the inside of your lip. He covered his eyes again and rolled over, turning his back to you as he mumbled, the only words you were able to pick up being “...fuck…Seunghan, why…she's so…”
He suddenly sat up with a strained sigh, propping himself up with one of his hands and the other still covering his face. With a better view of his features, you could now see the very familiar sight of him blushing bright red. “An-”
“...fuck it.” He picked himself up off of the ground and turned to face you, his eyes looking anywhere but at you. “Scoot over…” A wide smile overtook your features and you quickly shimmied to the other side of the bed, giving him space to crawl in with you. His slightly shaky hand pulled the covers back and he hesitantly layed down, as if afraid that making contact with the clean sheets would dirty them somehow. He laid awkwardly staring at the ceiling, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. You turned over to lean on your side, looking towards him.
“Anton…?” You spoke suddenly, making him flinch.
“Uh- huh?” His throat sounded dry and his gaze didn't move from a single spot on the ceiling.
“Can you…turn the lamp off?” There was a soft smile on your face, like you were enjoying seeing him so anxious and flustered. Despite that, your heart was still pounding harder than you've ever felt and your whole body burned like you had a fever.
“O-oh…” his voice cracked and he quickly reached his long arm behind him and flicked off the lamp, leaving the room in total darkness once again.
The air around you felt heavy with tension as you both laid there in the darkness. It was just like before, the only sound making its way to your ears being his breathing, only this time it was much closer and faster.
You don't know what prompted you to do it, but you extended your right arm out, your knuckles brushing against his arm lightly and making him twitch. His breathing caught in his throat and the silence that flooded the room made the tension all the more dense and palpable. You trailed the tip of your finger down his arm until you felt the veins on the back of his hand and you swore that you could hear his heart pounding against his ribs. Heat sat overwhelmingly on your cheeks as your fingers clamoured against his hand, intertwining themselves with his. His hand was much larger than yours, fitting with his height but not the soft and introverted personality he presented. He hesitated, his fingers sitting limply between yours, but after a few moments his hand tightened and embraced yours, the sound of his heartbeat only becoming louder.
You could've cut the tension in the room with a knife as you two laid hand in hand in silence, your hearts beating in sync.
Him accepting your hand hold made you bolder and the darkness in the room that obscured you two from seeing each other encouraged your confidence. Slowly, you scooted closer to him, as if afraid to startle him away. He took a breath in, as if he was able to feel your warmth get stronger.
“Y/n…” His voice was soft and deep like usual, although there was a slight strain to it, like he was holding something back. You turned your head, eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, to see him lying on his side, his head resting on the pillow. His eyes looked at you with emotion you've never seen before, emotion that overwhelmed you and forced the butterflies in your stomach to go wild.
He brought your hand that he was holding up to his lips, pressing them against the back of your hand so softly and your flustered brain struggled to comprehend where he got this boldness from. “Anton…” Your voice was weak and breathy, staring back into his siren-like gaze as he held his lips to your hand.
His lips disconnected from your skin with a subtle wet smack and he spoke, his voice rough and quiet. “I'm glad it's so dark in here right now…I'm sure my face is burning up…”
“You–” your trembling voice was cut off by his hand letting go of yours and moving to rest on your waist. His strong hand grasped your hip before pulling you closer to him, your hands coming to rest against his chest. You looked up at him with a shine in your eyes, just shocked by his actions. He sighed softly before chuckling to himself.
“Y'know, Seunghan definitely did this on purpose.” His eyes stared deeply into yours as you processed his words.
“H-huh…?”
“Booking us a room with one bed? Totally on purpose.” His pinky finger fidgeted with the fabric of your shirt, pulling and twisting it with obvious nervousness.
He leaned his forehead against yours as his gaze stayed locked on your eyes, your breath catching in your throat.
He muttered something so quietly that the only reason you were able to pick it up was because of his proximity and the deathly silence that occupied the rest of the room. “...Should never have told him I like you…”
Suddenly every thought in your head came to a halt as his words played over and over again in your mind. It was as if you were forced onto a treadmill, your heart rate rising like crazy and your breathing heavy.
“Y-you…”
He sighed, closing his eyes and nuzzling against your forehead slightly. After a moment of hesitation, he confirmed your uncertainty. “...Yup…” His voice cracked slightly and you heard him swallow anxiously as he opened his eyes to gaze at you again. He chuckled awkwardly to himself, “It's a little obvious…”
You struggled to speak, your throat dry with nerves, but you managed to get just his name out in a slightly scratchy, whiny tone. “Anton…” You watched a shiver run through him as the breath that uttered his name hit his lips. His eyes dropped to your lips and his breathing slowed. The moment seemed to last for hours, despite it only being a few seconds before he met your gaze again.
“Y/n…” his voice, barely above a whisper at this point, speaking your name like that made you let out a soft gasp for air, like you were drowning. “Can I…?” His eyes gestured down at your lips again and when they flew back up to meet yours they were glossy and full of emotion, almost pleading.
Your lips were parted, trying to take in as much air as you could to fuel your rapidly beating heart. His implication muddled your thoughts and you felt as if you were free-falling. You squeezed your eyes shut before taking that final leap and nodding, giving him the reassurance and consent he needed to do something he'd waited so long to do.
His hand on your waist slid up slowly, his fingertips trailing along your arm and coming to rest on your cheek. You could feel his hand trembling.
Almost in slow motion, he closed the gap between you and him, his soft pillowy first only grazing yours and you found yourself fighting a full-body shiver. His breath was hot, almost unbearably so as it covered your lips.
He was hesitating, refusing to finish closing the gap, making you restless.
“An-” With that your mouth was sealed, your words swallowed by the sudden push of his lips to yours. An inaudible squeak pushed up through your throat, drowned out by the soft wet sounds of his lips pressing repeatedly to yours.
He was desperate, much more than you'd expected. It was obvious now that this was something he's wanted to do for a very long time.
His breathing turned to panting as his fingers tightened against your cheek.
“An-mm-”
He used his other arm to prop himself up, putting him in a position where he was leaning over you, his lips still relentless in stealing air from your lungs. His bangs fell against your forehead, light and fluffy from his shower earlier that night, making an obvious shiver run through you.
What you didn't expect was his response to that shiver, a melodic hum from deep in his throat that made you see stars.
His hand trailed back down to your waist, gripping and bunching your shirt in his fist as he tilted his head for a better angle. You gasped for breath against his lips, overwhelmed with the sudden passion he'd drowned you in, but he only submerges you further when he takes the opportunity to flick his tongue against your bottom lip. You gasped, this time with shock and you didn't even notice your hand pushing against his chest, prying his lips from yours.
For a moment, you two just looked at each other's faces, his bright red even in the dark room, his lips parted as he breathed heavily, and his eyelids sitting half-closed. The light coating of saliva on his lips made your head heat up even more and you licked your own unconsciously, making his eyes immediately dart back down to stare at them.
“Y/n…” his voice was raspy and deep, making you squeak with surprise. His hand tightened on your waist and your breath only sped up, anticipating his next words. “I think…I need…to sleep on the floor….” Your eyes shot open at his unexpected words, words that came out through heavy breaths and you were surprised at how he was still out of breath.
“A-Ant-”
“I don't want to stop…” He whispered, almost inaudibly, and it was only now you noticed the look of lust in his eyes. “So…I need to sleep on the floor…”
You sat stunned as he pried himself off of you and made his way back to the makeshift bed on the floor. You couldn't even utter a single word, the memory of the way he was looking down at you, almost like a wild animal that hadn't eaten in days, burned into your mind. What surprised you most, though, was the way your heart fluttered and your stomach turned at the sight.
“A-are you sure?” You managed to stutter out, lifting yourself up to look at him, only for your gaze to meet his broad back. He stayed silent, the audible rapid beat of his heart giving you enough of an answer. You laid back down, your face going red with embarrassment at the thought that you were slightly disappointed.
Safe to say you didn't get a wink of sleep that night, fully awake to welcome the first chirps of the birds outside and the orange light of the sunrise streaming through the blinds. You didn't even spare a glance for Anton as you packed up your individual belongings and cleaned the room, a slave to the way your heart threatened to burst from your chest at the slightest glance of his messy bed hair or busy hands making the bed and gathering his things.
You both made your way out of the room, bags slung over your backs, walking an awkward distance apart from each other as you struggled to keep a blush from overtaking your face. Even his finger pressing the button for the elevator was too much for you, keeping your eyes glued to the floor until you heard the ding signalling the arrival of the elevator. You stepped into the elevator cautiously, your mind swimming at the realisation that you'd be in this small space with just him, if even for a few moments, being too much for you.
The subtle rumbling of the elevator as it travelled floor to floor filled your ears and you could feel heat on the back of your neck from the now close proximity of him.
You were quickly pulled from your chaotic train of thought by the elevator suddenly coming to a stop. Your eyes darted up to the screen above the buttons reading “5” when it should say “G”.
“W-what happened…?” You stuttered out, still unable to bring yourself to look at him. Although, it was a pointless endeavour, as he suddenly invaded your vision, stepping in front of you to spam the button that opens the door. Unsurprisingly, the doors didn't respond, and it seemed you were completely stuck.
“Great…” he sighed, leaning back against the wall and sliding down. For the first time all morning, you were able to look directly at him, your worry taking over all other emotions. You carefully sat down next to him, ignoring the beat of your heart as you peered into his face.
“W-what…do we do…?” You questioned, a slight shake in your voice.
He sighed before leaning his cheek against his knees, looking at you softly.
“There isn't much we can do except sit here and wait for someone to show up and help us.” His soft gaze brought a subtle heat to your cheeks and you questioned how it took you so long to realise you liked him. Suddenly, another realisation hit you like a lightning bolt.
“...Should never have told him I like you…”
His words replayed in your mind. He likes you…and you like him…
Your face flared up, something he definitely noticed as his eyes got slightly wider.
“A-are you okay…?” he questioned anxiously, “claustrophobic…?”
You shook your head slowly, swallowing your nerves. Taking a deep breath in, you finally spoke what was on your mind.
“So…you like me?”
His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open as a pink tint crept onto his face. You gave him a moment to gather himself and he plucked his head from his knees, staring straight ahead for a moment before nodding softly.
Your heart raced as you prepared to confess your feelings to him as well.
“I think I-”
“I'm so sorry.” He hurriedly spat out, leaving you dazed.
“F-for what?” You spoke with a hint of confusion.
“...Kissing you…” He hung his head, as if ashamed.
“Hey, it's okay, you asked and I said yes.” You explained, kneeling to face him. He took in a breath before continuing.
“B-but I got carried away, and you don't even like me like that, and-”
You grasped his face, turning his head towards you to look directly into his glossy eyes.
“Hey…who said I didn't like you…” You said the words with as much composure as you could muster, but the radiating heat in your skin gave away your true feelings. His expression froze in one of shock and you could feel his warm skin under your fingers grow warmer. After a few moments you felt his fingers creep up onto your cheeks, cradling your face.
“Can-”
“Please.”
Without another second of hesitation, he pressed the softest and sweetest kiss to your lips, much different from the passion of last night. You wanted time to freeze in this moment, but the kiss was already over as quickly as it started. You were still steeped in a pool of heat when he spoke again.
“-end?”
“H-huh…?” Your eyes refocused on his, serious and determined.
“...Will you be my girlfriend…?” He repeated, making your heart skip and a wide smile stretched across your face before you even realised. You could only nod before he quickly pulled you into his arms, burying his head into your neck. You giggled as his nose and lips tickled tickled your skin and your heart raced with love and joy.
You both flinched as the elevator suddenly started moving again, the screen finally flicking from “5” to “4” and continuing to go down. You buried your hand in his soft head of hair, chuckling.
“It's like it was waiting for us to sort everything out.” You felt him smile against your skin, making your heart flutter in your chest. He breathed out, his warm breath spreading across the skin of your neck.
“And I suppose I actually need to thank Seunghan…” He mumbled, earning another giggle from you.
“Y'know we're not getting away from this whole thing without a lot of gloating and teasing, right?”
He sighed, finally pulling back from you and looking into your eyes, a wide smile stretching across his cheeks.
I love the thing Aabria does where if the pcs are talking to an npc but then just kind of stop to talk among themselves without ever saying that they send the npc away or that they're leaving or anything, Aabria will just. Sit there. Letting them do their thing. And then interject 5 minutes later as the npc like yeah no one sent me home i've been here the whole time
worst relationship status to have w someone is “objectively they’re a fine person who is nice but i don’t enjoy their company as much as they enjoy mine”
secret third technically more harmless but in practicality more frustrating relationship status is “objectively they’re a fine person and they like so many of the same things i do but they like them in a fundamentally different way that is harmless but reads wrong to my brain and it has made attempts at forming an actual bond with them aggravating more than anything”
tbh i think stuff like this is why so many people, especially younger people, fall into this trap of “well if i don’t like a person or thing, they must be bad”. it would be so much easier if you could dismiss them as bad and move on. but it’s like, no, Objectively Fine people or things can just not mesh well with you for totally subjective reasons. and sometimes when they’re people you mesh much better with their brain than they do with yours. and sometimes you have to live with that.
This!! I recently went through a friendship breakup and I've struggled to come to terms with the fact that she wasn't a morally bad person. Yes she wasn't a good friend to me at times (most of the time), but most of my grievances with her were entirely personal. We became best friends when we were younger but I realized as we grew up that we just didn't...mesh anymore like we used to. And so hanging out with her felt like I was being held at gunpoint to pretend I was best friends with someone I wasn't actually compatible with.
Our personalities, our view on relationships, and our attachment styles are so different that any attempt at working on our friendship meant we butted heads. And I became increasingly frustrated over the fact that deep down I knew that everything she was doing was her way of trying to get closer to me, but to me it all didn't make sense and so it felt like she was doing them with bad intentions. At worst she was ignorant of my needs in a relationship, but that's not a criminal offense.
She has other friends besides me. And so that means whoever she is works for other people. But not me 🤷♀️
worst relationship status to have w someone is “objectively they’re a fine person who is nice but i don’t enjoy their company as much as they enjoy mine”
secret third technically more harmless but in practicality more frustrating relationship status is “objectively they’re a fine person and they like so many of the same things i do but they like them in a fundamentally different way that is harmless but reads wrong to my brain and it has made attempts at forming an actual bond with them aggravating more than anything”
tbh i think stuff like this is why so many people, especially younger people, fall into this trap of “well if i don’t like a person or thing, they must be bad”. it would be so much easier if you could dismiss them as bad and move on. but it’s like, no, Objectively Fine people or things can just not mesh well with you for totally subjective reasons. and sometimes when they’re people you mesh much better with their brain than they do with yours. and sometimes you have to live with that.
The Tula Conspiracy only momentarily distracted me from the larger conspiracy at play which is WHO ARE THE FIRST STOATS?
There's a very vague implication that no one besides Population Control Assistants actually get to see the First Stoats and I don't mean to bring my Loki obsession into this but are the First Stoats not...real? Are they perhaps humans?? Or more likely they're stoats that were directly experimented on by the humans that survived the nuclear meltdown, and so they have ulterior motives concerning their knowledge about the humans.
I just can't help but feel like the First Stoats are not truly operating in the interest of the stoat population and that they are disseminating a story about Stoat Creationism that they know isn't true as a means of achieving an Other Goal that we haven't perceived yet.
theartofmadeline
yousharknotpass
pixelskylines
gracieabrams
germansingergirl
ellievsbear
