➯a/n: i can't stop myself okay ?! he's infected my brain, i KNEW his ass was a hard dom and now he's just rubbing it in my face smh 😖 this is dedicated to all the lovelies who want yunho to mock them while he fucks them up (i see you in my inbox... full fic next month wink wink)
(>ᴗ•)genre: smmmmuuuuut
➯ddlg / age play disclaimer: ddlg and age play is a popular kink and most people who are into it are NOT into it simply because it's acting cutesy or young. most people enjoy it because of the comfort of being taken care of / told what to do or the pride of taking care of someone else. it is DIFFERENT AND SEPARATE from age regression and ALWAYS should be, ALWAYS will be on my blog. be safe and stay freaky !!
ಠ_ಠwarning/content: established relationship, healthy bdsm dynamics we cheer !!, safe word in place but not used, spanking, manhandling, mocking, size difference, yunho has a pavlovian response to reader crying, aka bro has a dacryphilia kink, praise and degradation double whammy, unprotected, open / semi abrupt ending. name calling: (mostly outside of sex, during punishment) fucker, brat, girl, little, stupid, silly / meanie (lmao) pet names: sweetie, doll, baby, princess / daddy, yunie
"What?" Yunho deadpans as he looks over his shoulder at you.
You only huff and roll over on his bed, rolling your eyes as you settle.
"Don't you roll your eyes at me," he grits his teeth — feeling the sass that radiates off of you. He knows you all too well.
He stands up quickly, all but jumping on top of you and shoving you to your back. "No, repeat yourself," he demands, his ears burning as you openly roll your eyes now. "Oh, you little fucker."
"You heard me the fi-" You bite back a yelp as he yanks your bottoms and panties off in one rough move.
"Yeah, I did. Do you think I'm deaf all of the sudden, you stupid girl?" He groans, rolling you over and pinning you with his knee on your back when you try to move away. "I just wanted to give you a chance to correct yourself. Obviously, I'm too lenient with you."
He never starts easy with you — it's a punishment for a reason. It's meant to be unpleasant. But that doesn't mean you aren't still shocked when he starts spanking your ass with harsh, quick impacts. "Naughty fucking brat."
"Ow! Daddy!"
"Oh, shut up," he dismisses you, shoving your face into the mattress with his free hand. If it really hurt that bad, you'd be using your safe word. You're just searching for sympathy. And he isn't giving any. Not while he's putting you back in your place.
"Wanna act all cute now that I'm holding you responsible? No ma'am, you don't get out of trouble that easily, you know that."
"B-but, I'm sorry!"
"B-b-but," he mocks you, gripping your hair tightly to stop your fidgeting, "I don't care. Too late for apologies. You doubled down on your bratty behavior, so you're getting treated like a brat. Deal with it. Are we on the same page?"
He leans down, taking a bit of weight off your back whenever you hesitate; still catching up to everything happening. "Hey," he says, still stern — but softer, "are we on the same page? Take your punishment like a good girl, here and now, or you can let me simmer in it and you take it twice as hard later. Which one?"
Even with his face heated and heart racing because of your dismissal of your set-in-stone rules, namely; no back talking to Daddy, he knows better than to do anything you actually don't want.
"...Now, please." You whisper after a moment, going lax under him. It's always fun to put up a little bit of a fight, but whenever you avoid your punishments too long they get near unbearable as he stews in his anger towards — not you, but — whatever you did wrong.
"Smart choice, baby," he says with a kiss to the back of your head before sitting on the edge of the bed, "come here."
He lets you collect yourself for a moment, rubbing your leg softly as you push yourself up. "How many do you think you deserve?" He asks as you slide off the bed and bend yourself over his lap like it's a second nature.
Pushing your luck, you stutter out, "ten?" And you aren't surprised at all when he scoffs a laugh.
"Be real," he squeezes the cheek he'd hit before, making tears bubble up in your waterline. "How many do you deserve for being disrespectful?"
"T-twenty five?"
He presses his lips together for a moment, "hmm. That'll work. Look at me." He holds your chin softly as you crane your neck to meet his eyes, "I'm doing this because you disrespected me. You broke a rule, baby, a big one. So you're being punished — it doesn't mean I love you any less."
"I know..." You pout, eyes still teary even though you fully expected this when you started acting bratty hours ago — it's the whole reason you did in the first place. You were feeling the need to be put in your place, and Yunho will always put you there.
The way your eyes shine with unshed tears makes his cock twitch. "Good," he shoves your face back down gently, making you face the floor as he readjusts you; laying you over his lap. "Count."
And you do. Faithfully following his command and counting each rough spank. Your voice growing shakier and your tears falling in fat globs and your cunt getting wet as his large hand bruises your ass.
And by the time you reach twenty five, you're a sobbing, needy mess wanting to be held gently and fucked stupid all at once — and his bulge is undeniable as you feel it against your side. "D-daddy, please be done," you whimper as your head hangs, hands gripping his sweatpants tightly.
"Daddy's done, sweetheart," he coos, rubbing your back as it trembles with your sobs, "no more spanks, you took them all like a good girl."
"Real-really?"
He bites his lip, wanting to mock your repeated stuttering so badly to see your cute little pout as you tell him to quit being mean. But he holds himself back while you come back to your senses. "Yes, baby, you counted all twenty five, didn't you?"
"Oh, right," you nod, sniffling and melting under his touch.
"Silly girl," he laughs softly, pulling you up carefully and spreading his legs before setting you atop of them so less of your sore behind has to rest on his firm muscles. "Give Daddy a kiss," he hums, wiping your tears; which have slowed from their steady stream into a few every other blink.
You sniffle again, placing your hands atop his shoulders and leaning to peck his lips softly. He slips his heated hands up under your large shirt — dressed to look and feel smaller than you really are, just the way he likes you; putty in his palms as he cups your chest.
"Are you done being a brat?" He asks against your lips, peeking his eyes open to look at you as yours stay blissfully closed; chasing his lips. "You gonna be my princess again?"
"Yes, Yunie," you moan shakily as he squeezes your sides. His hands slide back down to your ass, making you hiss as he lifts you up. "Ow..."
"Oh, I know~ It hurts doesn't it, baby?" When you nod up at him as he lays you on the bed, he grins, "yeah, think about that next time you decide to get mouthy." He plants a kiss on your pout as he lays over you, spreading your legs to settle between them. "My sweet doll can be so forgetful, hm? Nothing in that pretty little head~"
He only laughs when you shove his shoulder weakly, blinking a few more tears, "you meanie."
"Oh, I'm a meanie, am I~?" He tilts his head, fingertips trailing up the inside of your thigh slowly until they reach your wet slit, "did me being a meanie make you this wet, baby?"
You gasp softly, pressing your hips up into his touch before he grips you tightly and holds you down. "Answer me."
"M-maybe..."
"Mmmaybe," he mimics you, a smirk growing on his lips as you frown. "Yeah, it did. Don't be coy. You like when Daddy puts you back in your place~"
You nod, just enough for him to catch it, and he chuckles, " 'course you do. Such a needy little princess~" He pecks your lips softly, reaching over to the bedside table and yanking the drawer open before feeling around blindly while he kisses down your neck.
You know when he pulls out the lube that he's feeling impatient today — and you're about to get used just the way you wanted.
"How do you want it, sweetie?" He leaves one last kiss against your neck before sitting up and pulling his sweatpants and boxers down to free his girth, not even bothering to take them all the way off.
"I don't care, just need you," you whine, just as impatient as you spread your legs further. You swallow thickly as you watch him pour some of the lube into his hand before wrapping it around his cock and fisting it slowly. "Please, Daddy, hurry-"
"Ah," he looks at you sternly, tutting his tongue, "you just acted like a brat, don't you try and tell me what to do. You need to learn some damn patience," he groans as he lays back over you, lining himself up despite his chastising. "I should edge you all night long-"
"No, no, please don't! I'll be good, Yunie!" Your pleads fall into a broken moan as he shoves his tip into you, your hands fidgeting around in search of something to hold. He wipes his hand haphazardly on his sweatpants before bringing them both up to hold yours.
Lacing your fingers together, he slowly inches forward; fresh tears in your eyes from the sudden stretch. "You gonna be good? Promise?" He whispers against your lips, pressing his forehead against yours, "be Daddy's good girl?"
"Y-yes," you breathe out softly, scanning his eyes, "I'm your good girl."
"Awe, yeah, you are~" He coos while bottoming out, watching your brows pinch together as he presses just too deep. "But you're not allowed to cum until I'm done."
Pout all you want, cry all you want, he doesn't care. He thinks it's cute you think you can change his mind.
He's going to use you until he's had his fill and you will not cum until it's over, it's an extension of your punishment.
Yunho has zero tolerance for bad behavior, and he's going to make sure you remember that.
he posted this pic on his story and i dropped my pants in preparation
bsf!seonghwa x f!reader
content: teaching you how to ride, slow and wet, eye contact, choking
wc: 2.3k
thinking about seonghwa...
“never?” he murmurs, nibbling on his inner cheek as he gives you a once-over. not in disbelief, but something else. something dangerous.
you shake your head. “nope.” you shrug and pick up your phone again and start to scroll through your settings apps. “but it’s not a big deal, really, it’s just another thing to cross off the bucket list.”
seonghwa snorts and peeks over to snoop at your phone, to which you angle it away from him with an annoyed scowl. “i think it may be a little more serious than that.”
you type gibberish into the search bar. "why does it have to be serious, hwa? it's just sex."
its seonghwa's turn to scoff this time, and he pinches the skin of your calf, you swat at him with your free hand. but he does it again, and you bite out an irritated "quit it" as he starts to speak again.
"thats a bad mindset to have, y'know that right?" he lowers his voice to that annoying, mothering tone he uses with you when he thinks you're being stupid. "it should never be "just sex."
"okay yeah, but you can't be so picky and choosy all the time. i'm sure ill get with some guy and when he figures it out, he'll work with me or whatever. teach me or something." you speak of it fleetingly, like it was nothing more than a pesky errand.
seonghwa snatches your phone from you and shoves it into the couch cushions, and you sigh loudly.
"some guy?" he questions with a raise of his eyebrow. you move to fish your phone out of the couch, but he reaches out and gently grabs your wrist, encasing it in his slender fingers and rubbing his thumb over your thrumming pulse point.
"why not me?" he speaks lowly, and you snap your eyes up to his. he stares back at you with an intensity that settles low in your gut. his thumb stroked over your inner wrist slowly, and his other hand twitched at his side on the couch.
the air went thick, the quiet of his living room felt encased in a bubble, and the warmth of his skin suddenly burned.
he sees it. your thighs clenching beneath your body, the conflict flashing over your eyes, your free hand digging its nails into the cushion.
when you don't respond, he lets his eyes fall to where his hand held your wrist, watching with illustrated intent as he traces patterns against the fragile skin.
"i could show you, i've always been told i'm a good teacher." seonghwa tickles the skin of your palm with gentle scratches of his nails.
"thats what friends are for, yeah?" he lifts his pretty eyes back up to you, and something else has shadowed over them, and you feel something inside of you crack. you're aware of the way veins in his hands flow prettily under his skin.
the way his collarbones peak through the thin fabric of his shirt. the slick shine on his bottom lip where he licked to wet it. his tongue poked against his inner cheek and his eyebrows raised again to urge an answer out of you.
"c'mon pretty, don't leave me hanging." his voice is softer than usual, a new tone lacing it you've never heard from your best friend, something heated, something needy.
if deciding to have your best friend teach you how to ride dick was a bad idea, then you could mull on it later. because it wasn't long until he was sitting under you on the couch, legs spread nice and wide, his hands pressing into your hips where he held your body above him.
you straddled him, your thighs resting on either side of his, your knees pressed into the rough fabric of the couch cushions. your hands gripped his shoulders, your nails digging into the flesh of the blades.
he looks up at you through his lashes, as if you were a gift from god himself, his eyebrows knit together so prettily. "its fun up there, huh?" he smiles, dragging his warm hands up your thighs, holding you like you might melt and slip through his fingers.
you could barely keep yourself together; he was so deep inside of you. your thighs shook around him, his tip nudging against that spot so sweet and so dirty. his fingers kneaded the flesh of your hips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth with a quiet moan when he felt your cunt clench around him.
"it helps that you're, ah… so wet…" his voice cracks lightly, his cock twitching inside of you and sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine.
you shiver and grip his shoulders a little harder, and you begin to lift your hips, but his grip on them tightens, and he pushes you right back down until your ass hits his thighs again, and you groan nice and low as he fills you all the way up again.
"no-no-no-no-no, baby, stop. don't lift." he presses his lips to your collarbone and kisses you there softly, running his tongue over the skin warmly. one hand leaves your hip and runs over your waist before he presses his palm flat against your lower back and pushes until you arch a little.
just enough that he somehow slips deeper into you, and you let out a weak whine when his fat tip presses ever harder against that spot.
"grind." he instructs in a gravelly, soft moan. "rock your hips, back and forth. it'll help me hit that spot for you."
you shake and whimper under your breath, but you obey. you gently move your hips forward, and the feeling is immediate, his cock drags against your soft walls just enough that it feels like pure heaven.
you move your hands and card them through the hair at the back of his head, cradling his skull in your arms as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, moaning softly against his skin as you rock your hips, nice and slow.
it helps that he's so big, each roll of your lower body has him slipping in and out of you just enough to stimulate you, but not enough to where you can consider him fucking you. his tip dragging against that spot like a constant button, your legs shaking uncontrollaby and your whine brushing past his ear like a song.
your clit lightly brushes against his abs, where his shirt has ridden up over his lower stomach. he keeps his hand on your lower back, keeping you arched all the while his other hand stays glued to your hips, pushing and pulling on your lower body, helping you grind his cock into your body.
"there, how's that feel, baby? good?" he whispers in your ear, kissing just below your earlobe as he helps you rock your body around his cock.
you nod against his neck, gripping his soft, dark hair harder and choking out a moan when he teases you with a heavy lift of his hips. then you feel as he encases your hips with both his hands again, and gently he lifts your body ever so slightly.
you squeeze his head even harder, seonghwa's soft moans shaking in his throat as he lifts and pushes your cunt back down on his cock in slow, deep intervals. "don't stop rocking those hips, keep fucking me like you want. grind, deep, slow…"
he guides you perfectly, each time he lifts your hips himself it makes you clench around him harder. you start to feel a little desperate, and your hips start to move a little faster, rocking with a little more rhythm, but seonghwa didn't like that.
one hand finds the back of your neck and grabs it firmly, pulling your head away from his shoulder and pressing your forehead to his. suddenly all you can see is his eyes, and it overwhelms you to the point of tears. you whine pathetically when he thrusts his cock up into your pussy so sharply that a drop of drool falls from your lips onto his chest.
"easy…" he grumbles against your lips, his breath fanning over your face in low, heavy pants. "slow down pretty, no need to rush." his nails dig into the back of your neck, and you shiver when he starts to grind his own hips up into you, so deep it has your stomach caving.
"if i wanted you pounded into the floor i would've put you on your back, but i'm teaching you sweetness. listen to me." his eyes fall low-lidded as you resume your slow grinding, and his mouth falls open in a pretty moan when you tighten around him, the sound of your slickness loud in your ears.
"it's your dick right now, baby, use it. do what feels good, but don't lose your head." he keeps up the torturous movement of his hips, a choreographed grind that makes his stomach roll prettily.
he doesn't let you look away, forcing you to lock in on his needy gaze while he keeps you filled up with him, nudging every deep spot, every nook and cranny of your pussy. there wasn't a single space inside of you that remained untouched.
"s, t-too, mm-" you tried to talk, try to tell him how good you were feeling but it came out in slurred babbles, and he laughed at you. his warm breath shudders over your parted lip,s and he nudges his head up, melding his soft lips with yours and kissing you deep and nasty.
his tongue fills your mouth with a purr, curling and essentially fucking your mouth with it. "it's a lot i know…" he whispers into your mouth, interrupting the kiss with a low moan when you clench so hard around him it makes his entire body fuzzy.
he sucks your bottom lip into his mouth, letting go with a wet pop and pressing your hips down so hard onto his cock you thought if you looked down you'd see his tip poking through the flesh of your stomach.
"wouldn't have felt like this with anyone else, baby." seonghwa nips at the corner of your mouth, dropping his head to run his warm tongue flat up the front of your throat. "feel how wet you are? no other man will be able to make you feel this good."
his eyes lift as he sucks marks of possession into the skin of your neck, and when he sees a tear slipping down your cheek, he growls low in his throat and jerks his cock up into you rough and deep, and you yelp as the bliss shoots through you.
"oh no, don't cry. it makes me wanna be mean to you, makes me wanna fuck you til it feels wrong when i'm not inside you."
now he wraps his hands around your throat, pressing his thumbs against those soft spots that melt your brain, his eyes darting all over your pretty little blissed out face, his lips brushing against your in a ghost of a kiss.
"now lift, drop, and roll. fuck me, bunny. its yours, use this cock until you're satisfied. make yourself cum for me."
you coudln't disobey if you tried, working your body and focusing on that rapidly tightening knot in your stomach as you fuck yourself on seonghwa's dick, every delicious drag inside of you forcing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.
he doesn't bother to chastise you for breaking eye contact; he knows you're too lost in it to control yourself. he squeezes your throat tighter, your moans coming choked and broken. seonghwa helps push you over that edge, groaning and purring prettily for you, lifting his hips to match your desperate movements.
"i feel you baby, pussy feels so good around me. so warm, so tight." he lifts his head to press his lips to the shell of your hot ears, moaning and sighing as you ride him to high heaven. your head feels fuzzy with the lack of air, seonghwa making sure that the only thing you could think about was his dick working you out.
“cum as much as you need,” he coos in your ear his voice low and breathless, sinking his teeth into the soft lobe. “ride me, bunny, ride me.”
you absolutely lose it, slamming your hips down onto his dick and shattering, dribbling drool in rivers as you cum. he squeezed your throat in pulsing intervals, giving you air, then snatching it from you, rolling his hips up into your cunt and dragging every drop of your orgasm out of your body.
"oh god…fuck." he grumbles in his throat, overwhelmed by how pretty you looked on top of him, blissed out over your warm, gummy pussy squeezing him so tight he almost came inside of you. "such a quick learner, baby."
he drags his hands away from your throat, cradling your head, smearing your drool all over your cheeks with his thumbs, your face hazy and drunk while he rocks his hips into you in painfully slow, high off the way you shake and whimper, your slick sticking to his thighs and his lower stomach, a messy proof of his effect on you.
"did so good beautiful, yes you did." he praises, and yet his hips never stop moving. rolling, grinding, upwards strokes that make you feel helpless, regardless of the fact that he was beneath you.
"think you can give me another one? lesson's not over yet." he bites out, grabbing your arms and dragging your body down so your forehead rests over his shoulder. then he grips your hips, lifts your body up, and shimmies his hips down just enough so he can plant his feet flat on the floor, before he starts to fuck.
hard, deep, powerful thrusts up into your overstimulated cunt that has your moans coming out in staccato chokes.
"you did your w-work, now let me use this pussy." he groans through gritted teeth, and you feel your body erupt into flames the more he moves. making you feel every inch of him, each thrust touching your brain. making you feel so good.
dilf joong who makes you tell him about your day while he's wrecking your pussy with his fingers. he's looking at you all cute and sweet while he's abusing your sweet spot. he speeds up when you start talking just so you start stuttering. he absolutely laughs in your face when you start whining about him being mean.
Synopsis: After discovering your recent ex had cheated on you while you were together, the thought of loving and trusting again seems distant and futile. That is until love finds you where you least expect it in your best friend, Hongjoong.
Tags/Warnings: hurt/comfort, primarily fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, eventual smut (18+ MDNI), extremely self-indulgent, mentions of previous toxic relationships, yearner Hongjoong, completely down bad Hongjoong, penetrative sex, fingerfucking, oral (f receiving), body worship, lowk vanilla sex (and that's okay!), jealous Hongjoong, slightly possessive Hongjoong
WC: 16.3k
A/N: Long time fic in the making! Also, like I said in the tags, this is extremely self-indulgent bc I wrote this right after just finding out my ex gf cheated on me while we were together LOL!! So, I apologize to any Y/Ns out there who might get mischaracterized by this (tried my best not to let it happen). Also, if at any point in the fic you think to yourself, "Hongjoong would not fucking say that" I'm aware lmao, I just needed to write out what I wanted to hear. Anyway, I hope you all still enjoy the fic, and as always feedback of any kind is welcome and appreciated. Enjoy!! Love, C :-3
Also on AO3
No AI has been used in the creation of this work. Feeding this work to AI in any form is prohibited.
☆彡
"I never liked them anyway."
"I know, Hongjoong," you sigh, looking at him across the table. The two of you sit in your favorite coffee shop to get some work done— as you do every week— but this time you come with a new and unfortunate discovery. You tell him that for the last few months of your relationship, your (very recent) ex had been cheating on you.
"They never treated you right. Never the way you deserved to be treated," he says with furrowed brows and a deep frown. He looks angry, and you don't blame him.
Hongjoong had always been fairly vocal about his dislike for your ex. When you'd confide in him, he never hesitated to express his concerns about their actions and statements. At the time, you thought they were your person, so you put up with the mistreatment, rationalized it, and brushed off the concerning number of times Hongjoong had to pull you aside to check if you were really happy. At the time, you told yourself you were, but deep down, you knew you weren't being treated correctly. But, it wasn't until the relationship ended that you could fully process it.
Through the poor relationship and the breakup, Hongjoong stayed by your side. He never once said, "I told you so," even though he definitely had every right to.
But now, four months after the breakup, you're realizing more and more what he had known all along; that things were really bad. Sometimes you would mention something to Hongjoong about what your ex did or said that you never told anyone about, and he would be in shock at how bad it actually was, and you would belatedly realize it too.
"I know they didn't; But, I mean, really, the signs were there,” you state while twiddling with the rings on your fingers, “ I should've just trusted my intuition and left at the first hint of cheating." You look out the window instead of at Hongjoong's eyes.
Cheating was a touchy subject for you since your prior relationship also ended with your partner cheating. It took you a long time after that relationship for you to start dating again. Because of how seriously you took infidelity, you swore that if you ever caught a partner cheating on you, you would end it right then and there. There were a few times you thought your ex might've been, but everytime you brought it up they were able to manipulate the situation for you to stay.
So, you feel incredibly stupid and naive, not knowing that your ex had successfully hidden it from you and only just now finding out about it. "Hey," Hongjoong says, soft yet firm. He waits until your eyes meet his gaze before continuing. "You're forgetting something. You did trust your intuition, and you talked to them every time you thought something was off. They were the one who lied and told you it was just jealousy. Don't blame yourself. They're the asshole that cheated." He spits out his last sentence like venom, and you can't help but giggle at Hongjoong's distaste.
You give him a smile. "I know, you're right," you say before taking a sip of your drink and continuing your work on your laptop. However, Hongjoong's inquisitive gaze stays fixed on you. "You… seem to be taking this news well," he observes.
"Yeah, well, at this point it's kind of just another thing that's happened, you know? There's nothing I can do about it now other than move on. So, I'm moving on," you say with an indifferent shrug. He has a calculative look, like he's trying to figure out if you're being truthful or just putting on a front. After so many years, Hongjoong has a pretty good read on you. Sometimes (for the worse), you feel like he can literally see right through you, but you know his attentiveness is a blessing.
He lets out a hum of acknowledgement. "Okay, well, if you ever need to talk about it more, I'm here for you," he states, with a hint of concern seeping through his tone. You smile at him once again, grateful for his support.
"Of course, Joong. Thank you. Truthfully, though, I really feel okay. Yeah, it sucks, but I've already started moving on. I'm sure by the end of this week I won't pay it any mind." The corner of Hongjoong's mouth turns upward into a small half smile, and he gives you a nod of affirmation.
You continue your time together as regularly planned, doing work and engaging in your usual conversation and banter. Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong's eyes keep drifting to you, his gaze full of warmth. He happily takes his opportunity to steal these glances while you're lost in focus. If you were to catch him, he'd probably just deflect and make a joke at your expense instead. He can't let you know what really rings true in his heart. Not yet. Not so soon.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
As the week comes to a close, your statement in the coffee shop proves so far to be true. You don't linger on the fact that you were cheated on. You actually haven't even thought about your ex or the things they did to you for quite a while. You're rather productive with moving on, given how long you were together. Eventually, you just stopped thinking about it and went on with your life. You still aren't quite ready to start dating again, but you find yourself okay with seeing people casually and hooking up with them. This displeases Hongjoong, but you easily brush him off and laugh about how he's impossible to please. You don't understand Hongjoong's irritation, and he never elaborates when you ask. You think that it should be a good thing that you're beginning to put yourself back out there. Plus, it's nothing excessive, and you're being safe. You know he's coming from a place of care, but you don't think he needs to be so uptight about everything. Even after being best friends for years, there still seems to be some things the two of you will never quite see eye to eye on.
You met Hongjoong many years ago when you first started university. Both of you were in the same gen ed. class and got paired up as partners for a semester-long project. You've been friends ever since.
Truthfully, when the two of you first started becoming close friends, you had a major crush on him. Like, a big-time, head-over-heels, total crush on him. Of course, it only took you one look at him to realize how incredibly attractive he was, but it wasn't just his beauty that had you falling for him. You found his work ethic admirable, and there was a sparkle in his eyes when he talked about his passions. It was so enchanting. Immediately, you could tell he was a man that knew what he wanted, and who would stop at nothing to achieve his dreams. He's the type of person who makes you strive to become better. How could you not completely fall for him? Everything about him was so divine.
However, you were a different person back then, and you lacked the self-confidence you now have. Back then, you couldn't fathom a future where Hongjoong would ever be interested in you the same way you were interested in him. Just the thought of being rejected by someone as perfect as him and losing his presence forever scared you into silence. You were heartbroken, but you figured getting over him to stay friends was a million times better than taking the risk of admitting your feelings. So, that's exactly what you did. You found someone else you were interested in, fell in love with them, and continued being best friends with Hongjoong. The man you once almost considered to be your love became just a friend.
Of course, you still love Hongjoong; he's always in your corner as someone you can always rely on. And even having moved on from your crush, you still can't deny his looks. But times had changed, and it was different now. Even though there was a time when you dreamed of nothing more than being with Hongjoong, you hadn't dared entertain the idea ever since your ex entered the picture. You pushed those feelings for Hongjoong away to protect your friendship and focus on your ex (at least one of you was loyal).
After the breakup, you became so focused on yourself that you didn't even consider the idea of dating again. You didn't want to rush into another relationship with anyone. Despite doing better, it's hard to imagine a life of love after just losing it, and it's hard to imagine a life of trust after just being betrayed. Even though you now have that confidence you used to lack and the knowledge that you're a desirable person many people want and would be lucky to have, the thought of letting someone new in and committing yourself to them is petrifying. You still need more time.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
After a dull day, you spend your evening alone in your cozy, little apartment. Dressed in your pajamas, you snuggle deeper into your couch as you scroll through your phone. You click through various social media apps, responding to messages and liking your friends' posts, until you see something that stops you in your tracks. A photo of your ex kissing the girl they cheated on you with. You stare blankly at the photo for a few moments before closing out of the app and turning your phone off completely.
Doesn't bother me any. I already knew they stayed together. It's none of my business anymore, you think to yourself as you turn on your TV as a distraction. Your eyes stay fixed on the screen, but your mind can't focus. You keep thinking back to that picture. How they looked so happy embracing one another, how they looked so in love, and so… remorseless.
You tap your foot pointedly on the ground before shutting off the TV and trudging to the kitchen. You pace back and forth while looking through your cabinets, trying to find something to make for dinner, but it's pointless. You can't focus on any ingredients in front of you, and you can't think clearly. All that's running through your mind is that picture and just how unfair it all was. A few months ago, if you saw that picture you would have immediately broken down into tears, but the sadness from the past mean nothing to you now, and all you feel is rage.
You storm out of your kitchen and back into the living room, grabbing your phone with the desperate hope to find a distraction from your thoughts and current emotional state. As you pick up your phone, you see a message from Hongjoong: » Is it cool if I come over? « You scoff to yourself. No shot. I'm totally not in the mood for company right now.
…
You text him back: » Sure «
You've always kept an open door policy for your friends, saying your space is theirs if they need it, and that you're always accepting unplanned visits. Hongjoong is no exception, and in fact, he's probably the one who comes over uninvited the most.
You assume he's probably already on the way over since asking, so there's no real point in saying no. You just need to play it cool until he leaves.
Not long after reading the text, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to find Hongjoong in an oversized hoodie and sweats, his hair down and fluffy, and two bags of takeout in his hands. "I figured you hadn't eaten dinner yet, so I brought some food for us," he says with his ':3' smile.
He's right, you haven't eaten yet. The knots in your stomach twist and tighten, wriggling around in anguish like they're in a hopeless attempt to escape. You're grateful that Hongjoong's so considerate, but you really don't think you can eat much in your current state. "Thanks, I appreciate it," you say with a small, forced smile as you let him in.
He makes himself at home in your apartment, stepping in and setting up the food in front of your TV. You stand by the entryway, vacantly watching him. Your mind is far from the present, you're deep in your own head, instead, trying to decipher and rationalize why you were so indignant and bothered by that photo.
You finally notice Hongjoong's worried gaze on you, snapping you back to reality. Your eyes fall behind him, where a now finished table is set up. So much for playing it cool. You shake your head to bring yourself back down to the real world, and force another smile as you make your way over to him.
"Thanks again for the food," you say as you grab the remote, desperately wanting some TV show on as background noise and a way to distract Hongjoong from your odd demeanor. "You were right, I hadn't eaten yet."
He chuckles a little and nudges you as he takes his seat next to you, "You have to start taking better care of yourself."
"You're one to talk," you remark, remembering many of his late nights working fueled by no food and only caffeine. "I think the pot is calling the kettle black, no?" You question him with an eyebrow raised.
He pouts and looks away in faux bashfulness as he picks up his chopsticks, ready to eat. "Yeah, yeah, okay, you got me there," he smiles in your direction. "We'll take care of each other then, alright?" You nod and genuinely smile in return.
Hongjoong's presence and kind words help ease the tension pent up in your body, but the fire building inside of you still rages on. Rationally, you know that ranting about it will help set your mind at ease, but for some reason you can't help but feel ashamed at the thought of bringing up your ex to Hongjoong again.
He's already listened to your troubles so much after your breakup. How would it be fair to continue bringing them up, especially since you really thought you moved on more than this? Truly, before you came across this photo, you had been doing so good. You know progress isn't linear, but you can't help but feel shame in your reaction, and really don't want Hongjoong, a friend you revere so deeply, seeing you in such a vulnerable state.
You stare blankly at the TV and your food, only taking a few bites here and there when you think you can. Primarily, though, you're just pushing it around your plate. Lost in your racing thoughts, you forget about Hongjoong, who's quietly eating next to you.
"[Y/N]," Hongjoong states, staring in your direction. "Talk to me. What's going on up there?"
Your eyebrows raise in surprise at his voice. "Oh, you know. It's just been a kind of quiet night for me. Nothing really wrong," you say awkwardly. He gives you an unimpressed stare, as if to say, "Really?"
"C'mon, I'm serious. You haven't been acting like yourself all night." Oops. You've been caught. Really, you don't know who you were trying to fool. This is Hongjoong you're dealing with; he's perceptive. He can spot the smallest indicators that something's off with you. You do make it easy for him this time, though, since you're seriously bad at playing it cool.
You huff at his observation and let your shoulders sink in on themselves. Why does he have to be so good at that? You pout, continuing to childishly complain in your head. What is he even doing here? He typically gets ahead on work tonight.
"Seriously," he continues, " I know what's going on. Let me bear some of the weight." You scoff inside your head at his persistence, but then the realization dawns on you. You raise your gaze and look up at him.
"You saw the picture too?" You ask him softly. A deep sigh leaves his nose, and he averts his gaze towards the pictures on your wall.
"Yeah, I did." He flicks his eyes back on to you, shrugging one of his shoulders as he says, "I figured you did too, and I was worried about you. Figured you wouldn't want to be alone."
It's quiet for a beat, neither of you breaking the fragile moment. The only sound in the room comes from the sitcom quietly playing on the TV, but even that becomes nothing but a murmur under your shared silence.
You take a breath, small but loud enough to grab Hongjoong's attention. "Thanks," you say softly, barely above a whisper.
"Don't mention it," he replies, equally as soft. The stillness of the moment returns to you, the silence palpable. You know you need to give Hongjoong an explanation, but forming the words feels so difficult. Even if you wanted to, your tongue feels impossible to move, like it weighs a hundred pounds in your mouth. It's just your fear getting to you, you know that, but you need to be brave. Hongjoong is kind enough to go out of his way for you and offer himself as a shoulder to lean on. You urge yourself to say something to him, to not be scared of being vulnerable and taking him up on his offer to listen. Accepting his help doesn't make you a burden to him.
"I'm not sad, by the way," you say to him, breaking the stiff silence between you. You look up from your hands and into Hongjoong's already awaiting eyes. "Well, at least not in the way you might think I am. In fact," you turn your head slightly, unable to bear the weight of looking at him any longer, "I'm actually really, really fucking pissed." Your voice wavers as you finish your sentence.
In all your years of friendship, you think you've only cried in front of Hongjoong maybe once. You typically don't cry in front of other people, opting instead to deal with those emotions by yourself. You prefer to be the type of person others can rely on, keeping your visible emotions light and easy to charm and brighten people's days. Being vulnerable like this in front of Hongjoong is so far out of your comfort zone and possibly one of the scariest things you've done.
"I just… I think I'm nice. I'm soft.. I'm actually a total romantic, believe it or not, and… I don't know… I just get the short end of the stick it seems." You briefly glance over at Hongjoong to read his facial expression. He looks at you intently, waiting patiently for you to continue. "I mean, seeing that photo earlier just really pissed me off because… like… It just.. Ugh!" You take a deep breath— frustrated by not being able to find the right words— and try to redirect your thoughts.
The words still aren't coming to you. You're already upset at the situation, scared and uncomfortable from having to talk about it, and now you're frustrated at yourself for not finding the correct words to convey the thoughts in your head. You can feel yourself beginning to spiral.
Hongjoong, astute as ever, notices as well and reaches his hand out to yours. He's able to ground you and successfully stop you from messing with your fingers, something you had unknowingly been doing as you began your descent. You look down at where his hand sits on top of yours before looking up at Hongjoong's steady face. You look back down at your entwined hands. He gives a soft, supportive squeeze to your hand, urging you to continue.
"They just— they can just go about their lives. Happy and in love with each other. And they can just do that and face absolutely no consequences for what they've done to me. Absolutely none, while I'm stuck here working on myself for who knows how long, rebuilding all the parts of me they made unstable! But they just get to go on with their lives as if nothing happened. As if they didn't do what they did. Meanwhile, I have to go about my life ignoring all the thoughts telling me I'm not enough! They're the reason those thoughts are even there to begin with, but they'll never have to deal with that distress. I do, though! Even when I think I'm doing good, some shit like this will happen and it's like all that work i did on myself was for nothing. Those thoughts come back, and it's like I'm back where I started,
"I've been cheated on time and time again, and I don't know why. Maybe there's something wrong with me, or maybe I just pick all the wrong people, but goddammit, I put my everything in my relationships." You feel tears starting to roll down your face, and your throat gets tighter, making it more difficult to speak. "I just," you start quietly, "I'm furious. I don't deserve to be treated this way. I know I don't. I deserve to be loved. And I know this kind of love exists in the world because it lives within me, but I've never been on the receiving end of it! That's just so unfair. If I can't be loved, then I deserve to be respected at the very least…" You trail off, your voice softer than it was when you started.
You focus again on your hand in Hongjoong's, watching his thumb caress your skin. Slowly, you lift your head and take in Hongjoong's expression. His mouth is painted in a deep frown, and his eyes are painfully sad, almost as if he's holding back tears of his own. Somewhere deep inside you, a wall crumbles. "I just don't get it," you say, your voice breaking as more tears fall.
Immediately, he reaches out and pulls you into him, one arm cradling your head while the other wraps protectively around your back. Neither of you are particularly touchy people, but this comforting position— this moment— feels so warm to you. Against Hongjoong's chest, every protective barrier inside you crumbles and breaks. You cry harder, his shirt muffling the sound as he holds you tighter, trying to soothe your shaking body. "I'm so fucking angry," you reiterate in that same pitiful, broken voice that made Hongjoong want to hold you.
"Shhh.. I know," he says calmly, petting his hand soothingly across your hair. "You never deserved what happened to you." You continue to sob at his kind words. "There's nothing wrong with you either. Your exes are low-life, evil pieces of scum for doing the things they did to you, and you're so strong for being able to overcome it all." Another sob trembles through your body, and your arms tighten around Hongjoong's back, attempting to become impossibly closer to your best friend and only source of comfort right now.
"You're right, too," he continues as he places his chin on top of your head. "You do deserve to be treated better and loved. You deserve to be loved and valued for all of eternity." His voice gets softer. "You deserve someone who will cherish and adore you, someone who will give you the whole world and more. Someone who will provide anything you wish." You take a few deep, uneven breaths, trying to steady your breathing from the crying. Hongjoong is still holding you as close as he possibly can. "I mean it," he whispers, "I truly do."
You stay in your positions for minutes or hours. You're not sure, time seems to pass slower in Hongjoong's arms. Throughout it all, Hongjoong occasionally gives you more words of comfort or a grounding, "I'm here."
Eventually, enough time passes for you to stop the tears and steady your body. Now, you find yourself worrying that staying in his arms oversteps boundaries. You know Hongjoong isn't very physically affectionate, and for the most part, you aren't either (the only time you feel comfortable initiating physical affection is with romantic partners). It dawns on you how out of character it was for him to initiate contact, and you start to push back. As you lean up to sit on your own, Hongjoong's arms loosen around you. You see the giant wet spot you left on Hongjoong's hoodie and cringe. "I'm sorry about that," you hoarsely mumble out, nodding your head in the direction of the spot on his chest.
He looks down and lets out a tiny chuckle. "You have nothing to apologize for." Still a bit embarrassed about your breakdown, you timidly peek up at his face. His eyes are so full of comfort and warmth. He looks at you with nothing but care and adoration. There's something unfamiliar deep within his gaze, but you don't dwell on it. Instead, you want to spend your last bout of energy focused on the present with your friend.
"Thank you, Hongjoong, for being here. Truly, I mean it. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Oh, you wouldn't last a day," he jokes. You lightly giggle along with him, thankful for the lighthearted mood. Conversation the rest of the evening is sparse, but relaxed. You're mainly just talking about the strange subplot of the show you're finally able to pay attention to. The air isn't tense like before; it's comfortable and quiet. Hongjoong's presence puts you at ease, and the remainder of your night with him alleviates all your prior negative emotions.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
In the following weeks, you were met with a lot of progress. You block your ex and the girl they cheated on you with on all social media, ensuring that nothing else they post will make its way back to you, and effectively wipe them from your radar. You spend your time focusing on yourself and your friends— even more than before. Being with people you love and who love you brings support and tranquility into your sphere, and they help immensely to remind you that you're valued enough as a person. You don't need a rotten partner to feel like you're worthy of love and respect; you know it already in your heart, and it is reflected in the hearts of those you hold close. When you aren't with your friends, you spend your time engaging in your hobbies and picking up new ones, like journaling to help on days with bad thoughts. Creativity flows through you far more than before, and you feel as though you've finally gotten a piece of your old spark back. Some days are harder than others, but overall, each day is easier than the last.
Along with progress, you were also met with a lot of Hongjoong. The two of you already spend tons of time together, but since that night it feels like you can't get a break from him! Of course, you mean that lightheartedly. You're undoubtedly appreciative of his support and his company, but you're also starting to get a little concerned. You assume that since Hongjoong's never seen you in such a vulnerable and broken state before, he's just extra cautious and worried about you. Even still, it's been almost a month since that night, and he's just as attentive. It's very curious.
Not long after returning home from work late one evening, you hear a knock on your apartment door. It's Hongjoong, no doubt. "It's open!" you yell from your bedroom as you change out of your work attire and into something more comfortable. The door clicks open, and you hear Hongjoong shout out a greeting. Coming out of your room, you see him still standing near the entryway, clumsily rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands behind his back. He looks at you with bright eyes and a small pout on his face.
"Hey, you look nice," he says to you, briefly taking in your appearance. You tilt your head to the side, slightly puzzled by his out-of-the-blue compliment and restless demeanor. You hesitantly thank him for the compliment before he adds, "You should grab your coat."
"And why should I do that?" you ask, skeptical about what he's planning.
"It's a really beautiful night tonight. You always talk about wanting to go stargazing, and I found a good spot for it not far from here. So, I thought we could go for a walk and go check it out," he replies with a smile. Warmth blossoms in your chest as you think back to the last time you mentioned wanting to go stargazing. It's probably been at least a year ago since you had brought that up around anybody, and it was likely an off-handed comment too.
"You remembered I like to stargaze and that I had been wanting to go?" you incredulously ask him.
"Yeah, of course I did," he casually replies. He says it as if it's the most obvious fact about you he could've remembered. He said it like it was remembering your birthday or what you do for work, not like it was an off-handed comment you said forever ago.
Fully processing Hongjoong's words and what you're about to do, excitement overcomes your body. You burst into the brightest smile, and eagerness runs through your veins. "Wait right there!" you shout out to Hongjoong before bouncing off to your room to grab a jacket and your shoes. Hongjoong is left giggling at your evident excitement. You hurry back to him, now wearing the appropriate outerwear for a late-night walk. "C'mon, what are you waiting for? Let's go, let's go!" You impatiently usher him out the door, and he continues to watch you in amusement, chuckling at your giddiness.
The night air is chilly, but not harsh. How could it be with so much excitement in the air and Hongjoong walking so close to you? His hand brushes against yours a couple of times, but neither of you cares to move further away. On your walk, you talk animatedly about anything that comes to your mind, and he willingly takes the role of main listener. He adds to the conversation occasionally, but he primarily just leads the way and allows you to talk as much as you wanted. Caught up in the high-spirited moment and your chatter, you don't notice how often Hongjoong glances over at you with that small, kind grin on his face. You don't see how he looks at you like you hung the very stars you were about to gaze at.
You arrive at a rather large park you've never been to before, and Hongjoong guides you deeper through it until you reach a large, open field with a few tall trees and no light pollution.
"Wow, Hongjoong, this is amazing!" you exclaim, taking a seat on the grass beneath you. You both lean back on the ground, the sides of your heads touching slightly as you look up towards the night sky. The stars gleam and sparkle; they're brighter than you could've ever imagined them. The two of you alternate between taking in the night sky in quiet contemplation and talking about the beauty above you. He asks you to point out the constellations you know, and you show him by taking his pointed hand in yours and tracing them in the night sky. He asks about your favorite constellations and the stories behind them, while you ask if he sees any shapes in the sky and what stories he'd give them. The conversation between you flows so easily— just as it always did— but this moment feels so much more tender than normal.
"This is perfect," you softly tell him after another hushed moment.
"You know," he says with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, "we can do things like this all the time."
You turn your head to the side to get a better look at his face. "Yeah, I know," you respond as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"No, I mean," his eyes dart away from yours as a pout starts to take form on his mouth. "I mean, we can do things like this all the time.. together. The two of us."
"Yeah, of course we can," you giggle at him. Hongjoong groans next to you, bringing his hands up to cover his eyes in frustration. His reaction slows your laughter. "Hongjoong, what's going on?" you ask, intrigued by what's getting your friend so worked up.
"I'm no good at this," he says, his words muffled from behind his hands. Your eyebrow raises at his statement, but before you could question him any further, he shoots up from his lying position and into a sitting one. He looks down at your face, and you can see the conflict and frustration evident on his facial features. The longer he looks at your face, however, you see the pained expressions fade out into ones of… adoration? He lets out a puff of air from his nose— the sound resembling one of affection.
Possibly more to himself than to you, he whispers, "The stars are dancing in your eyes." Your breath hitches. "I could look at them forever."
"Hongjoong…"
"Look, [Y/N], I know you've been through so much recently, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I have to let you know how I feel." You slowly sit up, intrigued yet slightly worried by your friend's strange behavior. You tilt your head to the side, silently allowing him to continue at his own pace. He takes a breath and looks deep into your eyes. "I'm… I'm in love with you."
You stop breathing, and your brain begins to short circuit. "What?" you hoarsely whisper to him, not believing you actually heard what he said.
"I'm in love with you. Desperately. I have been for a long time." You look at his face, searching for any hint of deception, but you find none. It's too dark outside to really tell, but you're certain his cheeks and ears are red.
"You… You're serious," you state, still skeptical, but you know Hongjoong would never joke about such a thing. Definitely not like this.
"I am. And I know you're not looking for a relationship right now, but I just couldn't hold it in anymore," he replies, desperation seeping through his tone.
You remain speechless for another beat, letting silence take over the moment before asking, "What changed?" You're not upset at the confession— not at all— it's just so unexpected, and you're so confused. You never once considered a timeline where Kim Hongjoong would be interested in you. You can't understand where he's coming from, or how this all happened.
He sighs deeply and turns his head to the side, looking off in the distance. "That night.. I don't want to ever see you that way again: so upset and broken."
"Hongjoong, if that's the only reason-"
"But it isn't!" he interrupts, correctly anticipating where your train of thought would take you. "I've been in love with you for almost as long as I've known you. I'm not the best with my feelings— you know this— so it took me a little while to realize it. By the time I did, you had already found someone else. Even if you hadn't, I probably still wouldn't have said anything right away." You rack your brain, going through years' worth of memories with Hongjoong. You try to imagine and accept that Hongjoong has been in love with you through all of them. It feels unreal.
"That night," he continues, "holding you while hearing about how you have to remind yourself that you're enough because of what that asshole did to you, it broke my heart. Especially because I cherish you more than anything, and I know I would never do anything to hurt you. Never do anything to make you feel less than what you are. Actually, I truly don't understand how anyone could look at you and not feel blessed that you're in their life. That breaks my heart, and I can't go on without you knowing how special you are to me."
You inhale sharply at his words. "Hongjoong, I…" You take a second, trying your best to look over his face in the moonlight. Your thoughts race, your heart pounds, and your chest tightens. You don't know what to say to him. Not trusting your mind to come up with an answer, you listen to your body instead, and you feel as though you're about to enter fight or flight. The thought of getting into a new relationship… it scares you and feels suffocating. You're not against the idea of being with Hongjoong, but you have to put yourself first. "I don't want to say no to you, but I'm still scared," you whisper out.
He reaches out his hand and grabs yours. "I know, and I don't want to rush anything or make you uncomfortable. All I ask is that you give me the chance to show you that I'm serious. Let me prove to you that I truly love you and that you can trust me with your heart." You look at him curiously. All you see in his face is sincerity. "I'll go at your pace, and I can wait for as long as you need. Or, with one word from you, I'll stop. I know it's a bit selfish of me to confess while you're not ready for anything, but I want to show you how much I value you and that my love for you is genuine."
You think for a moment, and, despite your scattered state of mind, you find yourself reaching a decision quicker than expected. You nod. "Yeah, okay. You can do that." You see a toothy smile as a wave of relief washes over his face. He looks cute like this.
"I promise, I'll be someone you can wholeheartedly trust."
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
That night, you don't sleep much. You lose yourself in your jumbled thoughts while you continuously toss and turn in your sheets. Still in disbelief, you almost convince yourself that you made up the entire exchange. You find yourself thinking back to all of the things that happened throughout the years: all of the times Hongjoong had been with you, all of the times his interest might've shone through, all of the times your ex had treated you poorly. You think back to when you still had an active crush on Hongjoong, which felt like lifetimes ago. You're a completely different person now, but could that previous version of yourself who was head over heels for Hongjoong still be living deep inside you? Is it even possible to return to those feelings? You don't know, and you're really just stressing yourself out by thinking about it.
The following day is your weekly coffee shop meetup with Hongjoong. You worry all day about what to expect, unsure of what your dynamic would be like now and what Hongjoong really meant by 'showing you he cares'.
Upon your arrival at your usual coffee shop, you see that Hongjoong's already sitting at your favorite table. In front of him are two coffee cups.
"Hey," he smiles up at you. "I got you your usual." It's not uncommon for him to occasionally get your drink for you if he arrives early, but it still brings a smile to your face.
"Thank you," you say with a smile as you take your seat across from him. You set up your laptop and start on the work you need to get done. So far, everything seems normal. You began to think you were worried for no reason; maybe everything will just pass over like nothing happened. As that thought crosses your mind,however, you find yourself uneased by the possibility of that being the case. You're not quite sure what you want yet or what to expect going forward, and you find that to be relatively troublesome.
As you stare off into your laptop screen with your thoughts running wild, a small sensation brings you back down to earth. You feel Hongjoong's leg slot between yours under the table; your ankle and calf are now lightly pressed by his. You shoot your head up to look at him, only to see bright red cheeks, a large pout, and his eyes glued to his notebook, desperately trying to avoid your gaze.
You gape slightly at him, studying his expression and actions in awe. Even though it's a small gesture done in his Hongjoong-like way (a way you honestly prefer), he's still initiating physical contact with you. Hongjoong never does that for the sole purpose of just doing it. The thought of Hongjoong reaching out to touch someone just for the comfort of touching is unheard of, and yet here he is doing it.
"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" you state— more so than ask— after gaping at him for a beat too long.
He finally looks up at you as he replies, "Yeah, I am." His cheeks are still so red, it almost makes you want to giggle. It's obvious he's out of his comfort zone but genuinely trying to make an effort.
You smile softly at him. "You know, you don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
"Don't worry," he smirks, determination in his eyes, "I don't do anything I don't want to." A second passes before his face molds into something more sincere. "If I did anything to make you uncomfortable, though, you'd tell me, right?"
"Of course I would," you respond. You're grateful that Hongjoong makes sure you are okay, but there is honestly very little he could do that would make you uneasy.
"Good," he says, bringing his attention back to his work. As he does so, you feel his leg press more confidently against yours, the sensation from the touch more prominent than before. "I meant every word that I said last night," he says, still looking down at his notebook. "As soon as you're ready to open your heart up again," he looks up and locks eyes with you, "I want it to be for me. Nobody else." The look in his eyes, a mix of adoration and determination, makes you want to shiver. You know Hongjoong is the type of person to work hard and make his dreams a reality, but you never expected to be part of those dreams.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
The initial hurdle of believing Hongjoong is in love with you is the hardest part, then getting used to his affections quickly follows. You worried about how different it would be between you two, but you find that not too much has changed. It's still just you and Hongjoong— like it always had been— but now it's… more.
As the weeks go on, you become the sole recipient of Hongjoong's affections. His pursuit of physical touch increases tenfold, always seeking out some part of you to touch. He does it all: brushing your hands, pressing his limbs against yours, throwing an arm around your shoulders, or tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You notice he compliments you far more frequently than he ever did before. He's always telling you how nice and pretty you look, how kind you are, and how he's glad he can spend his time with you.
For a while, you feel bad that you're not returning any of his affections, but after bringing it up to him, all he says is that you can take as much time as you need, and that loving you isn't a matter of transaction. Of course, he would certainly like it if you reciprocated, but he knows it's still difficult for you after your last relationship. You aren't sure if you can ever match Hongjoong's love in the same way, or if you'd ever be able to return to that crush you once had on him. That's what worries you most. The last thing you want to do is break your best friend's heart, but the thought of loving again seems so distant. You love so much, you love with everything in you, and all you've gotten is contempt in return. Loving someone again, even someone like Hongjoong, who you know is good, just seems impossible.
Or that's what you thought. As the weeks turn to months, and Hongjoong's love for you never faltering, you begin to notice changes in yourself. You begin to put a bit more effort into your appearance on days you know you'll see Hongjoong, and you feel your cheeks flush whenever he compliments you. While his touch used to have you tense up with surprise, you now find yourself seeking it out, leaning into it, and feeling cold when it's not there. What really gets you is his little surprises.
One day while at work, a delivery comes for you: a large bouquet of pink 'stargazer' lilies. Your favorite flowers. On the bouquet, a note reads, "I couldn't stop thinking about you today, so I figured I'd send you a little something. HJ ♡"
Your heart flutters in your chest and your cheeks burn red. All day your coworkers ooh and aah at your bouquet, gushing about how pretty it is and how they wish their husbands or boyfriends would do the same. They ask questions about who sent them and what he looks like, and they fuss over how handsome he is and how good you look together when you show them a picture. Their comments leave you more flustered and red than you already are. When they ask how long you have been together, you're unsure how to answer. You end up just telling them how many years you've known each other, and they say how lucky you are to be with someone who still puts in the effort after such a long time. Their comments get you thinking about your time with Hongjoong and what the future would be like. You honestly can't imagine a future without Hongjoong in it. In fact, it sounds like a life of misery without him. You know you want Hongjoong by your side for the rest of time, but now you're starting to open up to another way for that to happen.
You leave work that day with a text message to Hongjoong saying: »You were a hot topic at work today«
He responds quickly: »So you liked the flowers?«
»I loved them«
More weeks go by, and your attraction only becomes more present in your mind. You constantly find yourself daydreaming about his smile, his hand on yours, the way his tattoo peaks out from behind the sleeves of his shirts. Since you're still unsure of what you want, you try to keep your own flirtations to a minimum, but you wonder if Hongjoong has caught on to your growing feelings for him. Even still, Hongjoong's devotion to you never wavers.
This evening, you're preparing to go to Hongjoong's apartment for dinner. He asked you a few days prior if you would come over, and after agreeing you asked, "Is this romantic Hongjoong asking or friend Hongjoong?" He only looked at you with a smirk before responding, "They're the same thing."
You were supposed to head over to his right after work, but instead you take a detour to your apartment first to change clothes and freshen up. Hongjoong has seen you in your after-work state a million times before, but you figure if he's putting in the effort to make you a nice dinner then you could put in the effort to show up looking a bit nicer than normal.
You arrive to his apartment soon after, and you feel butterflies in your stomach as you knock on the door. Strange, that hasn't happened in a long time.
You smooth you hands over the front of your clothes and run your fingers through your hair, wanting to make sure you look presentable before Hongjoong lets you in. Right as you fluff your hair, Hongjoong opens the door with a smile on his face that immediately drops at the sight of you. "Oh, you look so pretty," he says to you quietly as his eyes roam over your form. You feel heat rise to your face under his warm gaze and at his sweet words.
"Thank you," you quietly respond as he lets you in. Since when did you become so bashful around him??
Upon entry, you're immediately hit by the delicious smell of food cooking in the kitchen. Warm-toned lamps light up the apartment, and music plays softly from the record player in the living room.
"What are you making?" you ask, leaning across the kitchen counter as Hongjoong gets back to working on the food.
"Doenjang-jjigae," he replies, focusing his attention on the food in front of him. He's making one of your favorite meals. You smile to yourself at his thoughtfulness.
"Do you need any help?" you ask, wanting to make yourself useful. He looks at you incredulously.
"Not at all. You keeping me company is enough, so just sit back and let me take care of you," he says with a wink.
"How chivalrous of you," you tease, masking the fact that you actually feel very touched by his words and efforts.
He lightly exhales a laugh. "I've been told a time or two that I can be quite the gentleman."
You narrowly cut your eyes at him. "Oh, yeah? By who?" He turns his head to the side to get a better look at you, still stirring the ingredients in front of him. He has a cocky look on his face that makes you want to roll your eyes. Or kiss it clean off. You're not sure.
"Do my ears deceive me, or is that jealousy in your tone, [Y/N]?" He looks far too proud of himself.
"It's your ears," you swiftly respond. He chuckles lightly at you.
"I'm not too sure about that," he taunts. You pout at his words, and Hongjoong spares you a look before letting out a full laugh. "Awh, there's no need to sulk," he teases as your pout grows deeper. "If it makes you feel any better, I get jealous too."
"Yeah, of course you do. You're a Scorpio," you state as if it's obvious. He simply chuckles in response and says something along the lines of, "You got me there."
As the room settles and the sound of chopping and food bubbling fills the space, you decide to ask him a question that has been plaguing your mind since he confessed. "Hey, Hongjoong?" He hums in response, focusing on the final touches of dinner. "When you said you had been in love with me for a long time… just when did you realize it?"
He pauses for a moment to think before continuing his work. "Since the end of our first year in college. I realized about two or three months before you started seeing your ex, but truthfully, looking back, I had started falling by the end of that first semester."
"Huh, so same time as me then," you murmur, mainly to yourself, but it's still loud enough for Hongjoong to catch what you said. His body stills, and he whips his head towards you.
"What?" he asks, his eyes wide.
"Oh," you tilt your head at him, "I guess I never told you. I used to have a massive crush on you back in the day." For a moment, he doesn't say anything; he just blinks at you with his mouth slightly ajar.
"What?" he asks again. "What happened?" He turns to face you fully, dinner forgotten behind him.
"Don't worry, it wasn't because of anything you did or didn't do. It was all me. I was just a completely different person back then, and I couldn't see a future where someone like you would be interested in being with someone like me."
"What do you mean by that? Someone like me?" His tone sounds puzzled and faintly anxious.
You give him a slight smile, hoping to ease his worries somewhat, and move further into the kitchen to help plate the food he had forgotten about in favor of you. "It's just," you begin, a small sigh escaping your lips as you scoop the stew in front of you, "I didn't think highly of myself then. I've lived hundreds of lifetimes between then and now, and the me today knows my value and worth. But, back then, I…" you still for a moment, trying to find the right words. You don't know how to convey to Hongjoong that you used to think of yourself as simple, inconsequential, ugly. At least not in a way that wouldn't absolutely break his heart. "I just didn't at the time."
You feel Hongjoong's presence as he steps closer towards you. "And you were…" You turn to look him in the eye, but you're now much closer than anticipated— only a few inches separated your faces. "You were unreachable," you say gently, a dreamy whisp in your voice. "I know I tease you for saying this all the time, but truthfully there really is no one like you, Hongjoong." You hear his breath hitch from where you stand, and his eyes look deep and unreadable. "And at the time I just couldn't picture it," you shrug. "Someone as radiant as you choosing to be with someone as insignificant as me." Upon hearing your words, sorrow begins to take place in Hongjoong's features. You continue in hopes of reassuring him, "But that was the old me. I'm different now. Better."
Hongjoong takes another step towards you, further closing the gap between you two. He's so close you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. Your heartbeat quickens when he looks down at your lips before landing his eyes back on yours. "I know you're a different person now, but even still… Do you think you'll ever have those feelings you used to have for me again?" he asks quietly, as if one wrong noise would break the moment entirely. Thoughts race through your mind, your face is flushed, and you feel every word you could possibly say to him get stuck in the center of your throat. Not trusting yourself enough to speak, you look up at him through your eyelashes and nod instead. He smiles at that. It's a genuine smile: a bit lopsided, showing the sharpness of his teeth. You can't help but think how attractive he looks like that.
"Good," he says to you as softly as before. "because I don't want you looking at anybody else. Only me." He smiles down at you for another moment before turning to grab the dishes and set the table.
Only as he starts walking away do you feel like you can breathe normally again. "I guess that's the jealousy you mentioned earlier," you jokingly comment as you follow him to the table, hoping it'll help cut the tension that now runs rampant throughout the apartment.
"Mhm," he hums in response as he set the plates down. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket to light some candles he laid out before your arrival. Alongside the candles is a small vase that holds a few stems of flowers.
"Wow. Romantic," you state, standing next to Hongjoong as you admire his work.
"Heh, I know, right?" he replies, pride seeping out of his voice and stance. His conviction and self-confidence are endearing to see in action. So much so, you giggle to yourself and smile behind your hand. He gives you one quick look before pulling out the chair for you to sit down.
You eye him as you take your seat. "There really is no end to your doting, is there?" you say lightheartedly. You tease him, but you're actually the furthest thing from annoyed.
"Of course there isn't," he replies while taking his own seat. "Why should there be?" You don't have a good response for him, so he continues to sit there— proud and smug.
Hongjoong's meal is absolutely delicious, and it's evident he put a lot of effort into making it. Conversation during dinner is ceaseless, easy, and indisputably flirtatious. When you finish eating, Hongjoong swiftly takes the plates to the kitchen before coming back to the table with a bottle of wine and a surprise dessert he made. It seems he's pulling out all the stops this evening.
"Hongjoong," you say after taking a sip of wine, "there's something else I've been curious about."
"And what would that be?"
You toy with the fork in front of you and look at Hongjoong flirtatiously through your eyelashes. "What was it about me that caused you to fall for me?"
He huffs out a breath of endearment. "What, still can't believe that I'm in love with you, so now you need specifics?" His tone is light and unserious, but there's an air of genuine concern in the question.
"No, I believe it. Like I said, I'm simply curious," you reply with a small smile. You stare down at your dessert, trying to avoid Hongjoong's knowing gaze. You say, now quiet and earnestly, "I would just like to hear you say what."
"Well, it was a culmination of things, really," he begins, taking your hand into his from across the table. "Like how kind and sweet you are, how caring you are, how you make me laugh." He runs his thumb across your hand, and his eyes are open and honest as he looks into yours. Even if his words aren't enough for you, his eyes tell you everything you need to hear. "I love how you show up for the people around you, and how you light up every room you're in." At this point, you start becoming bashful. You know you were the one to ask, but being the absolute center of Hongjoong's attention and hearing everything about you he adores is almost too much. His loving words and devoted gaze are something so unfamiliar to you. You're not used to warmth like this.
"That's what made me fall, but every day since then, I've fallen for you more and more," he continues. "Seeing you grow, face hardships with care and grace, and still hold so much love in your heart, that just made me fall further."
You turn your face away, unable to bear the weight of his stare any longer. "Hongjoong…"
"I love how you feel so deeply. Not just for yourself, either, but for everyone around you, too. You have so many of the qualities I lack, and I think that's beautiful. You're like a star in the night sky leading me home."
Your face is warm and surely pink all over. You glance over to Hongjoong, who's still looking at you with that tender expression. "Hongjoong, please…" He lets out a laugh at your reaction.
"What? I thought you wanted to know," he jokes as you pout at him, your face still just as rosy. "I haven't even gotten to tell you how beautiful you are! How I get lost in your eyes, or how your lips pull me in-"
"Okay!" you interrupt, one hand covering your flaming red face while the other stays in Hongjoong's grasp. "You can't just say things like that.." you mutter, now unable to take much more of his compliments.
He laughs loudly at your reaction, gripping your hand tighter. "Really, though, you're someone I've always admired and respected, and you've always been by my side. How could I not have fallen madly in love with you?"
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Your evening with Hongjoong continued with tensions that ran high, but you didn't end up acting on anything. You certainly wanted to, but you still held some reservations in your heart and mind. You're certain you've fallen for him again, but you're worried that you still can't give him as much as he deserves quite yet. You want to be completely sure and confident in your love for him— and yourself— before opening your heart to him and letting him in.
You honestly aren't sure when you will be ready. You aren't sure where the natural turning point in your relationship with Hongjoong is or if anything would change. In your previous relationships, everything changed for the worse after becoming official, and the thought of that happening again with Hongjoong worries you. On top of that, you had become used to his doting, and you fear you wouldn't be able to do the same for him yet. Not the the same extent, at least. Not while you're still hindered with fears from your poor previous relationship.
But you decided to put the thought of it all off for now. A mutual friend of yours and Hongjoong's invited you both to a movie night at their apartment, and you figured you could wait until after then to figure your feelings out.
Their apartment wasn't far from yours, so you decided to walk and meet up with Hongjoong there. The affair was lively, bright, and loud, with many of your mutual friends littering the apartment space. There aren't too many people in the apartment, but just enough for mutliple different groups of conversation and activities to form. Even still, Hongjoong spends a majority of his time extra close to your side.
The two of you converse with your friend, Jongho, and his plus one until Hongjoong gets called into the other room.
"You want anything while I'm gone?" he asks you before he leaves.
"No, I'm okay right now," you respond. His eyes stayed glued to you for a moment longer before giving you a small smile and nod then walks away to the other room.
You bring your attention back to awaiting eyes. Jongho's friend has a sweet smile on her face, while Jongho has one that is knowing and mischevious. "You and your boyfriend are really cute together," she says to you.
"Thank you," you quietly respond at the same time Jongho says, "Oh, they aren't dating."
He gapes at you with an incredulous look, and you quickly work to recover before you become victim to Jongho's teasing.
"Jongho's right; we technically aren't dating."
"Technically?!" he questions, his eyebrows raising and a smirk making permenant home on his face.
"Yeah, technically!" you defend. "He confessed to me a while ago and has sort of been… courting me until I'm ready to date again."
"Wow," he starts. "I never thought Hongjoong would actually be able to do it."
You tilt your head up at him. "You mean you've known this whole time?"
"[Y/N], he didn't have to explicitly say it for any of us to know. He makes it extremely obvious."
You think back to how all of your friends would act around you and Hongjoong in the past. Just how long have you been clueless??
"So," Jongho says, bringing your attention back down to Earth, "When are you two going to start dating for real?"
You shrug your shoulders. "Whenever I feel comfortable being in a relationship again, I guess."
"You guys are basically dating now, why string it out and lead him on?" Jongho asks casually.
"I am not leading him on!" He gives you an unimpressed stare before looking towards his friend with an expression that seems to sarcastically say, "Yeah, right."
"I'm serious, I'm not leading him on any. I'm just still not ready to offically date again after last time. I was in a really long relationship, that takes time!" you attempt to justify.
"Yeah, a long shitty relationship. Seriously, what's the hold up?" The look on his face is casual and slightly playful, but his eyes show genuine concern.
You look away before cautiously replying, "I guess I'm just a little worried to fully trust someone again."
"Are you serious? This is Hongjoong we're talking about. When has anyone not been able to completely trust him?"
Jongho's question rings in your ears and echoes in your head long after the conversation is over. He's right. You've never not trusted Hongjoong before. He's one of the most trustworthy people you know, if not the most trustworthy. He's never given you any reason to not trust him. A title change won't make any difference.
Before the movie officially starts, you go to the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks for you and Hongjoong, while he secures your spots on the couch. As you walk back into the living room, you can't help but laught at the scene in front of you— Hongjoong is sitting at the end cushion of the couch with a large pout on his face, and your mutual friend, Yunho, sits flushed up against him with a large smile on his lips. Yunho takes a look at you, then Hongjoong, before trying to cuddle up even closer to him. Hongjoong leans impossibly further into the arm of the couch and tries to push Yunho away. There's no doubt he's doing this because Hongjoong has been more obvious about his feelings for you tonight, and you can only imagine how much teasing he's been subjected to before now. Seriously, just how clueless have you been??
Yunho eases his teasing as you walk closer to the couch. Hongjoong looks up at you with that grimace he saves for when his friends get on his nerves, but Yunho still looks like a puppy dog sprawled across his owner's lap.
You're certain he wanted to sit next to you and not Yunho, and that's probably half of the reason for the pout on his lips. You give him a smile in return and hand him his drink before grabbing a blanket and choosing to sit on the floor in front of him instead, your back now pressed against the couch and between Hongjoong's legs.
The rest of your friends settle in on the remaining spaces available on the couch, chairs, and floor before the lights turn off and the movie starts. Shortly after the film begins, you feel Hongjoong's hands in your hair. At first, you think he's trying to get your attention, until you realize that he's simply keeping his hands busy. His fingers rake through your strands rhythmically, occasionally making small braids before letting them loose and raking through them again. The motions sent a wave of calm over you as you lean further into his touch. The longer he plays with your hair, the more tranquil you become, and, eventually you feel your head and eyelids growing heavy. Giving in, you tilt your head to rest it upon Hongjoong's leg beside you, and you let the serenity overtake you.
You awake to the feeling of soft, gentle touches to your face and Hongjoong's quiet voice saying, "Hey, pretty girl, time to wake up."
"Hongjoongie?" you murmur as you open your eyes groggily. As you blink the sleep out of your eyes, the world becomes clearer and you can see the look of endearment painting his face.
"How about I drive you home?" he asks, his tone as quiet as before. You blink some more and take in your surroundings, seeing the few remainder of your friends getting ready to leave themselves.
"Oh no, I missed the whole movie?"
Hongjoong chuckles softly. "Don't worry, you wouldn't have liked it anyway. It had way too much cgi for your taste. C'mon, let's go." He reaches a hand out to you to help you up. You accept his hand up with a stretch and begin to gather both yours and Hongjoong's things as you both say your goodbyes to everyone. "Ready?" he asks you, and you nod in reply while holding his keys out for him.
The ride back to your apartment is peaceful. Hongjoong plays his music at a soft volume, and sparse conversation keeps the energy in the car calm.
This is Hongjoong we're talking about. When has anyone not been able to completely trust him?
Jongho's words continue to play in your head. The more you think about it, the more true it becomes. You can't believe you ever thought otherwise. Additionally to that, everything is just easy with Hongjoong. You don't have to worry about being too high energy around him, or conversely, being too boring when your social battery is down. In fact, you never felt more relaxed around any other person, and you certainly don't trust anyone else enough to fall asleep on them in a crowded room. No other person has ever brought you that much comfort.
No one has ever shown you love the way Hongjoong has. No one has ever cared as deeply or yearned for you as long. He has shown his love for you since you became friends, and in the past few months he's shown it in so many different ways unrelentlessly, and never once asking for anything in return. You feel so incredibly lucky, and so incredibly stupid for not realizing sooner that the love you've always longed for was right under your nose.
Even though it'd be nice to change the past and be with him sooner, you can't dwell on the 'what-ifs.' You're happy with who and where you are today, and you now know that you want your future to always include Hongjoong and his love.
This is Hongjoong we're talking about. The car comes to a slow stop outside of your apartment. You and Hongjoong look to each other, but otherwise make no other movements towards exiting the car. When has anyone not been able to completely trust him?
"Thank you for driving me," you say to him.
"You don't have to thank me for that." The stillness returns. Neither of you quite know what to say to each other next, but you know you don't want the moment to end.
"You're, uh, still planning on going to Wooyoung's birthday this week, right?" Even though you know his answer will be yes, it's the best you can come up with to stay in the car with him for a moment longer.
"Yeah, of course," he replies, his tone soft. You look at him for one more moment, knowing you'll have to go in eventually.
"Okay, well.. I'll see you then."
I'm ready.
You briefly hesitate before leaning closer and gently placing your lips upon his cheek. As you lean back, you take note of how red his face is. Not only is it cute, but it feels nice to have Hongjoong blushing for once instead of you.
"Goodnight, Hongjoong," you whisper, stepping out of the car.
Before entering your apartment, you turn to face his car one last time and give a small wave.
Oh, god. I really love him.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
The energy inside the bar was loud, stuffy, and lively. J. Wang, the bar you're at, is one of the hottest spots in the city, and it's the perfect place for your energetic, loving friend, Wooyoung's, birthday celebration. It has the perfect amount of energy to party, but it's still more laid back than a typical club. You stand by the large booth in the secluded corner reserved for the party where it's a bit easier to hear and breathe. You talk with one of Wooyoung's friends you don't know very well, and you want to give the conversation your complete attention, but your attention keeps drifting to the entrance of the bar. You're anxiously awaiting Hongjoong's arrival, and your newfound butterflies feel like they're about to rip a hole right through your stomach.
Hongjoong had offered to take you to the bar, but you declined in favor of getting there early; you wanted to ensure you could give Wooyoung his birthday present before the night got carried away. You hadn't seen Hongjoong since he drove you home from the movie night two days ago, and you're not sure what to expect tonight. All you know is that you're eagerly anticipating his arrival, wanting badly to be here with him.
While you converse, you spot a familiar head of hair make its way through the crowd of bodies at the entrance. Your heartbeat quickens. Hongjoong's hair is styled so that his forehead is visible, and he's wearing a tight-fitted shirt that's tucked into his pants. The style accentuates his waist and chest. To put it blatantly, he looks really fucking hot. He catches your eye and gives you a smirk as he walks towards the back corner. Your cheeks become rosy, and you feel warm under his gaze that never leaves your form.
As soon as he approaches you, he leans his head down towards your ear and says, "You look stunning." His breath is hot, and the sensation sends goosebumps down your skin. He's so close to your ear, you can almost feel his lips against your skin. All that goes through your mind is how you wish he would close that small gap. You want to experience the feel of his lips on you— not just the phantom touch of them.
You smile back up at Hongjoong, placing your hand on his shoulder to tug him down to your height and reverse your positions. "So do you," is all you tell him, but in a state of want, your flirtatious tendencies take control, and you allow your mouth to inch closer than his did. As you say your compliment, your lips brush against his ear, and you allow them to linger there for a moment longer before pulling away from him. Looking up at his face now, desire and longing evident in his eyes.
Before much else can happen, you're interrupted by a "Hongjoong!" You both turn to see the birthday boy approaching with his arms out wide. Wooyoung wraps his arms around Hongjoong with a big smile on his face. "I was wondering when you'd get here!"
Wooyoung's interruption causes the two of you to push your desires aside and continue with the party as planned. You laugh, you dance, you talk with old and new friends. It's a perfect night. You keep close to Hongjoong for a lot of the night, but even when you aren't with him, you feel his eyes following you. You like the feeling, and you think you could quickly become addicted to it.
"Hey, I'm going to go get a drink. I'll be right back," you tell Hongjoong a bit later in the night. You make your way to the bar through all of the bodies in the room, and walk up to the first available spot you see. You're standing next to a tall man, and you can feel him looking at you as you wait for the bartender to finish their current drinks and make their way over.
"Some party you guys are having over there," he leans over and says to you. You finally look over at him; he's not unattractive, but you're not interested in him any. Why would you be when you have the perfect man for you just a few feet away?
"Tell me about it," you politely respond before turning back towards the bartender. You hope he catches the hint that you aren't interested, but he is a man, so you try not to get too hopeful.
"I'm Ji-won." You were right not to let your hopes get too high. You cut your eyes at him, thinking he looks too self-satisfied. You know you're an attractive woman, and you can't blame him for trying to put himself out there, but you can blame him for not taking a hint.
"[Y/N]," you return, once again turning away from him. Seeing that they finished the drink they were making before, you flag down the bartender and give them your order. As they start making it, you feel Ji-won's hand on your shoulder.
"That's a really pretty name. Very suiting for a pretty girl."
You maneuver your shoulder out of his grasp as you curtly respond, "Yeah." You don't even try to hide your attitude or sound thankful. The bartender returns with your drink, and as you pull your card out to pay, Ji-won cuts in.
"How about I cover that for you, baby?"
Just as you were gear up to tell him to 'fuck off', you feel a strong hand on your waist as a familiar voice says, "No need for that." You look up to see Hongjoong beside you now, one hand wrapped around your waist, staking his claim, while the other holds out his card to the bartender. "I'd appreciate it if you left my girl alone," Hongjoong says. His voice is mean, and his eyes are hard as stone as he looks at the man.
Without any argument, the man nods his head and walks away from his place at the bar. You return your gaze to Hongjoong, who's still adamant about keeping his hand on your waist. He looks pissed, and while you don't want him to be upset in any capacity, you can't deny how hot he looks like that.
"Don't worry, Joongie," you tease, grabbing his attention. "I wasn't looking at anyone else." He looks down at you, still with that pissed expression that makes your knees feel a little weak.
"I know. Doesn't stop other people from looking at you, though," he responds, now with a tiny pout on his lips. You don't understand how he can look so cute and so hot at the same time.
"Well, of course not. Look at who's on your arm," you joke confidently, briefly glancing down at his arm around your waist. To your comment, he rakes his eyes up and down your form.
"Don't I know it," he says with a smirk, tugging you in closer to him. The bartender returns with Hongjoong's card, and the two of you head back to your reserved corner.
Even though Wooyoung's party continues on the same, it's different for you now; Hongjoong never loosens the grasp on your waist. Your skin burns underneath the weight of his hand, and you feel the butterflies return to your stomach. You have to admit, you kind of like this jealous side of Hongjoong. You're certain that he trusts you, so you aren't bothered by this act of asserting you as 'his'. In fact, you like how proud he is to have you on his arm. He isn't ashamed to show you off like your previous partners were. His love and attraction for you isn't just quiet and intimate, but also loud and outward. You're convinced he would shout his love from the rooftops if you asked him to, and you're willing to bet he'd enjoy doing it as well.
You've been partying for hours at this point, and it doesn't look like the celebration will end any time soon. However, you're ready to just be alone with Hongjoong at this point. You yearn to finally tell him how you feel, to finally let him in and open yourself up to him completely.
Currently, the two of you stand in a group with Wooyoung and some more of his friends. Hongjoong's hand is still at home on your waist, and your back is pressed up against his chest. The close contact just makes you want to be alone with him even more. You turn in his hold to slightly face him, and successfully grab his attention. He leans his head down closer towards your lips so he can hear you over the loud music. "You ready to leave?" you ask him, happy when he nods his head yes.
He lets Wooyoung know the two of you are leaving while you go grab your jacket from the booth. Wooyoung gives you both a hug goodbye, and you catch him giving Hongjoong a silly expression, presumably about him leaving with you, to which you hear Hongjoong respond, "Oh, shut up!" You say your quick goodbyes to the people you've been talking with, and then the two of you make your way out of J. Wang Bar.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
The cold November air makes you shiver as you walk out of the bar, your stylish winter jacket and the little party dress underneath hardly enough to keep you warm. Seeing as Hongjoong still sneaks glances at you, you can't complain too much— it did its job well this evening.
You sigh out of your nose, looking towards the night sky as you walk in the direction to your apartments. "I don't want tonight to end just yet," you admit to Hongjoong.
He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "No? Just didn't want to be at the party anymore?"
"No, it's not that. I just," you turn your head to look at him, "I just want to be alone with you." You can see a blush making its way onto Hongjoong's cheeks. You're sure that if you point it out to him, he'd pout and lie, saying it's from the cold air. You decide not to tease him about it this time; instead, you just admire how good it looks there. "Do you think we can take our time on our walk home? Maybe look at the stars a little bit on our way?"
He gives you a mesmerizing smile before responding, "Of course. We can do anything you want." You're starting to realize that he truly can't resist you or deny you anything you ask. You smile back at him and thank him. "You don't have to thank me for that."
As you approach a park near Hongjoong's apartment, you grab hold of his arm to keep him close and protect yourself from the cold night air. The park isn't like the one Hongjoong found before. It's smaller and much deeper in the city, but it's a nice place with visible stars. He leads you further away from the light posts towards a bench surrounded by trees. Even given the circumstances, he's still trying to find you the best spot.
When you sit down, you make sure your bodies are close. Your head leans against his as you look out at the stars, seeing Orion and the Little Dipper. Hongjoong listens intently as you point them out and tell him their names. The moment is so tender and romantic, it makes your heart swell.
"Thank you for indulging me with this. I know it's late and cold," you say, turning your head slightly against his so you can look at each other.
"Don't worry about it," he smiles sweetly at you. He gazes at you longingly for a moment longer before whispering, "How could I deny you anything?"
Your breath hitches, and you feel all the love you have for Hongjoong coursing through your body. You have never experienced love as pure, warm, and true as Hongjoong's; never experienced devotion or yearning such as his before. You love him desperately, and you need him in your life just as badly as he needs you.
"Hongjoong…" You sit up, facing him now, but remain just as close as before. Looking at you, his eyes are so clear and large. You could stare at them forever. "My heart… it's yours."
"[Y/N]…" Hongjoong mutters, his face incandescent and emotional, as if he never expected those words to come out of your mouth.
"It's true," you say, bringing your hand to the side of his face. "I'm in love with you. Deeply, desperately, wildly in love with you." He lays one hand on top of yours while the other travels to your cheek and situates at the base of your jaw. His touch is so soft and gentle.
"You love me too…" he states, voice overcome with fondness.
"Yes, I do. Most ardently." You lean your head closer into the warmth of his hand. "My heart is all yours and yours alone. Please," you whisper, "be gentle with it."
"Of course I will," he responds, inching closer to your face. Unable to help yourselves any longer, you both lean in and close your eyes, surrendering to a long-awaited kiss under the stars. His lips feel as though they've always belonged there. Your lips move together, conveying emotions far too deep to ever be verbally expressed.
Kissing one another quickly becomes addictive for both of you. The longer you kiss, the deeper and more passionate it becomes. Slowly but surely, the kiss morphs from something of adoration and devotion into something of longing, desire, and hunger. A moment of breathing allows you to slip your tongue into Hongjoong's mouth, deepening your kiss and intensifying your moment.
You pull back slightly, your lips still ghosting his. "How far is your place from here?" Your lips fall right back onto his immediately after asking.
"Only a couple of blocks," he replies before repeating your unresisting act.
You move you head to the side, allowing Hongjoong's lips to explore along your jaw. "Let's go," you breathe out. "I want you, Hongjoong. Please."
He pulls back to look at your face; there's nothing but love, yearning, and desire in your eyes. His expression matches yours exactly. He nods at your request and stands up, offering his hand out to you. "Me too. Let's go."
The walk back to Hongjoong's apartment is, in fact, short, but it feels like it's taking ages. It's a good thing not many people are out this late at night, because neither of you can keep your hands off of each other. Eagerness overtakes you both, and Hongjoong's apartment couldn't feel farther away.
Anticipation pools in your stomach as you approach his apartment and watch Hongjoong unlock the door. Immediately upon entry, Hongjoong backs you against the closing door and cages you in, resuming his siege on your mouth. Gone is the slow and impassioned kiss that this all began with; it's all fervent hunger now. It's sloppy, all hands, teeth, and hot breath. With his lips still attached to yours, Hongjoong begins toeing off his shoes. You try reaching down to unzip your boots, still engaged in his lips, but Hongjoong pulls away and stops you.
"Let me," he murmurs, moving his hands down to your hips and placing them there with a firm grip. Effortlessly, he sinks down on his knees, looking up at you through his long eyelashes as he removes your boots. He doesn't get up once he's done; instead his hands trace up your bare legs with his mouth close to follow. Maintaining eye contact, he kisses up your legs while his hands slowly make their way further up your body. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps on your skin, and heat rises in your lower abdomen at the sight of him worshiping your body.
His hands push up your little dress towards your hips until your underwear is exposed. At this point, he's made his way up to the top of your left thigh, venerating it with open-mouthed kisses. He takes his eyes off yours and looks toward your clothed core. "One word from you and I'll stop," he says with lust and ardor in his gaze.
"Please, don't stop," you respond, neediness seeping through your voice. Almost instantaneously, his lips are on your clothed center, mouthing you and leaving you gasping from shock. Once he's had his fill, he moves further up, grabbing the waist hem of your panties with his teeth and tugs them down. Now that you're exposed, he drops them, letting them fall to your feet.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he groans as he repositions you so one of your legs is resting over his shoulder. He looked at the sight of you before him— open, wet, and eager for him— with dark, hungry eyes. Without much further build up, he dives in, licking up your entrance with the hunger of a starved man. He continues lapping at your folds, before making his way up to your clit, sucking on it and leaving you in a dizzying state.
Your hand reaches for his hair, tugging on it as the heat in your core intensifies. He keeps an unyielding pressure on your clit, going between sucking on it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. He looks up at you as you roll your hips at his tongue's entrance within you. He groans at the feeling of you tightening around his tongue, the vibrations making their way through your core. As he feasts upon you, his nose brushes up against your swollen bud, causing you to shiver and moan.
He brings his tongue back to your swollen clit as he pumps two fingers inside of you. "God, Hongjoong," you whine out, throwing your head back against the door. You feel the knot in your stomach tightening as Hongjoong continues curling his fingers inside you, searching for that sensitive spot of yours.
Your legs feel weak and wobbly, unable to take much more of Hongjoong's stimulation while standing. He can feel you shaking, so he wraps his arm tighter around your ass, simultaneously steadying you and groping at your flesh. He continues to moan around your clit at the sensation of you clenching around his fingers, sending shockwaves through your nerves. His rhythm was unrelenting, and you knew you wouldn't be able to last much longer. His grip on your ass tightens, and he takes on more of your weight as he keeps on his attack. He alters the angle of his fingers, now hitting that tender spot inside of you that makes you see stars.
"Hongjoong, I'm close," you whimper out as your hand tightens its grasp on his hair. He keeps his unruly pace, sucking and moaning on your clit. Heat travels through your body as the wave of your climax washes over you, leaving you trembling in Hongjoong's grasp. He eases his feast on you and removes his fingers, now lightly licking up the remnants and leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses to your core.
He finally pulls away, moving your leg from his shoulder and licking his two fingers clean. Clearly, he's obsessed with the taste of you. He rises to his feet once again, and his eyes still burn with lust and primal desire. You're sure you look the same— it's certainly how you feel.
You take in his form, noticing the blatant hard-on in his pants. You hook a finger around the necklace adorning his throat and use it to pull him closer to you, back into a searing kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you know you need more of him.
Hongjoong leads your stumbling bodies through his apartment and into his bedroom. He only has time to turn on one of his lamps before your hands and lips are back on him. Hungry for more, you begin undressing him as much as you can without removing your lips from his body. You unbutton and tug at his pants, reaching your unsatisfied hands under his shirt. The singular lamp and soft moonlight coming through the window provide enough light to fully see each other's forms.
Eventually, you break apart, too desperate to keep your clothes on any longer. Hongjoong removes his jacket and shirt in two swift motions before he reaches his arms behind you to unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor, leaving you now completely naked and exposed to him. He drinks in the sight of you; his expression conveying complete and utter devotion. "God, you're so beautiful," he says to you, almost as if you are a goddess in front of him that he's praying to.
You lean back against his bed, and before you know it, his pants are off, and he's climbing on top of you. One hand lands on your breast, rolling and teasing your nipple between his fingers. The other makes itself home on your ass again, grabbing as much of the flesh as possible. All the while, his mouth goes back to your neck, leaving bites down to your collarbones to mark you as his. Your hands travel across his body, leaving a few scratches on his back before reaching for his ample chest. You lean your head up, as well, and leave a couple of love bites of your own at the base of his neck.
He pulls back, removing his underwear and grabbing a condom, ready for more. As he gets ready to position himself, he stills.
"Hongjoong?" you question, desire overtaking your tone.
"Let me admire you for a moment," he says with a genuine smile, gazing at you as if he's memorizing every curve. You feel your cheeks warm, and shyness creeps up on you. Despite your slight bashfulness, you take this moment to gaze upon Hongjoong as well. The man of your dreams above you in all of his grandeur.
Hongjoong lines up the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing it up and down between your folds.
"Hongjoong, please," you whine, unable to take much more of his teasing. "I need you now."
"Alright, alright," he concedes with a sweet smile, beginning to push himself in. "Anything for my girl." He slips in with ease due to how wet you are, and he grabs your hand in his as he bottoms out. You both moan at the sensation. "I love you," he whispers to you, letting you get used to the stretch before moving.
"And I love you," you whisper back. He starts moving out slowly, pulling himself back until only his head is left inside you before snapping his hips and filling you with his length once more. The pace starts slow and passionate, but still searing and unrelenting. You meet his thrusts with as much strength as you can muster, wanting him as deep in you as possible. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder once again, positioning himself even deeper inside of your velvet walls and allowing him to hit every tender spot within you. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your combined whimpers and moans sound lewd and vulgar, but the look on Hongjoong's face above you is nothing short of ethereal.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his pace quickening. Each thrust becomes harsher than the last, and your walls continue to tighten and clench around him, sucking him in with every move.
"Hongjoong, I'm getting close- ah fuck!" you cry out. Your back arches from his cock filling you up, and your head crashes onto the pillow from your overwhelming pleasure. Keeping his merciless pace, he licks his thumb and brings it down to your sensitive clit, stimulating it and maintaining a firm pressure against it. You feel heat coil in your stomach as your release rapidly approaches.
"Cum for me, baby," he mutters— his voice pushing you over the edge. You cry out his name in ecstasy as your walls spasm around his cock, and your legs quiver around his form. His thrusts become more sporadic and desperate as your walls tighten, signifying he isn't far behind and aches for his own release.
"Hongjoong, cum for me, please," you request, reaching your hand up to his cheek. Not even a second later, he releases inside the rubber, twitching with pleasure between your walls. His cock throbs inside of you, and you feel every pulse of his hot release.
Hongjoong collapses on top of you,holding you close and burying his head in your neck as you both recover from your orgasms with heavy breaths.
"I told you," he says after a moment of catching his breath. You turn your head to the side to get a better look at him: he looks at you with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze. "I can't deny you anything you ask of me." You giggle at words, but you know that earnestness is behind them.
Slowly Hongjoong pulls out of you, leaving you empty. "Stay right here," he utters, his tone endearing. He gets up and quickly cleans himself off in the bathroom before returning with a warm washcloth that he uses to clean you up. He's gentle— knowing how sensitive you still are— but efficient.
After cleaning you up, he lies down on the bed with you, taking you into his arms and holding you close. There's no place in the entire world you would rather be than in his arms.
"My girl… My star…" he mutters, his lips pressing against your temple. You look up at him, hoping your gaze says all of the emotions you can't voice. He leans down and cathces your lips in another kiss, as if making up for all of the lost time as soon as possible.
The two of you lie there, engulfed in each other, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You kiss with the thought of it never getting old, and hold one another with the promise that you will do so for the rest of time. The moonlight shines through the window as you indulge in each other's love. The stars peek in through the window, watching and smiling upon your young love. They twinkle at you through that window and listen to the sweet nothings and the promises you both make to each other with great interest. It's partly because of them, after all, that the two of you are where you are now.
"I'm completely yours, Hongjoong. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me."
"I plan on keeping you by my side and cherishing you forever."
Synopsis: After discovering your recent ex had cheated on you while you were together, the thought of loving and trusting again seems distant and futile. That is until love finds you where you least expect it in your best friend, Hongjoong.
Tags/Warnings: hurt/comfort, primarily fluff, the tiniest bit of angst, eventual smut (18+ MDNI), extremely self-indulgent, mentions of previous toxic relationships, yearner Hongjoong, completely down bad Hongjoong, penetrative sex, fingerfucking, oral (f receiving), body worship, lowk vanilla sex (and that's okay!), jealous Hongjoong, slightly possessive Hongjoong
WC: 16.3k
A/N: Long time fic in the making! Also, like I said in the tags, this is extremely self-indulgent bc I wrote this right after just finding out my ex gf cheated on me while we were together LOL!! So, I apologize to any Y/Ns out there who might get mischaracterized by this (tried my best not to let it happen). Also, if at any point in the fic you think to yourself, "Hongjoong would not fucking say that" I'm aware lmao, I just needed to write out what I wanted to hear. Anyway, I hope you all still enjoy the fic, and as always feedback of any kind is welcome and appreciated. Enjoy!! Love, C :-3
Also on AO3
No AI has been used in the creation of this work. Feeding this work to AI in any form is prohibited.
☆彡
"I never liked them anyway."
"I know, Hongjoong," you sigh, looking at him across the table. The two of you sit in your favorite coffee shop to get some work done— as you do every week— but this time you come with a new and unfortunate discovery. You tell him that for the last few months of your relationship, your (very recent) ex had been cheating on you.
"They never treated you right. Never the way you deserved to be treated," he says with furrowed brows and a deep frown. He looks angry, and you don't blame him.
Hongjoong had always been fairly vocal about his dislike for your ex. When you'd confide in him, he never hesitated to express his concerns about their actions and statements. At the time, you thought they were your person, so you put up with the mistreatment, rationalized it, and brushed off the concerning number of times Hongjoong had to pull you aside to check if you were really happy. At the time, you told yourself you were, but deep down, you knew you weren't being treated correctly. But, it wasn't until the relationship ended that you could fully process it.
Through the poor relationship and the breakup, Hongjoong stayed by your side. He never once said, "I told you so," even though he definitely had every right to.
But now, four months after the breakup, you're realizing more and more what he had known all along; that things were really bad. Sometimes you would mention something to Hongjoong about what your ex did or said that you never told anyone about, and he would be in shock at how bad it actually was, and you would belatedly realize it too.
"I know they didn't; But, I mean, really, the signs were there,” you state while twiddling with the rings on your fingers, “ I should've just trusted my intuition and left at the first hint of cheating." You look out the window instead of at Hongjoong's eyes.
Cheating was a touchy subject for you since your prior relationship also ended with your partner cheating. It took you a long time after that relationship for you to start dating again. Because of how seriously you took infidelity, you swore that if you ever caught a partner cheating on you, you would end it right then and there. There were a few times you thought your ex might've been, but everytime you brought it up they were able to manipulate the situation for you to stay.
So, you feel incredibly stupid and naive, not knowing that your ex had successfully hidden it from you and only just now finding out about it. "Hey," Hongjoong says, soft yet firm. He waits until your eyes meet his gaze before continuing. "You're forgetting something. You did trust your intuition, and you talked to them every time you thought something was off. They were the one who lied and told you it was just jealousy. Don't blame yourself. They're the asshole that cheated." He spits out his last sentence like venom, and you can't help but giggle at Hongjoong's distaste.
You give him a smile. "I know, you're right," you say before taking a sip of your drink and continuing your work on your laptop. However, Hongjoong's inquisitive gaze stays fixed on you. "You… seem to be taking this news well," he observes.
"Yeah, well, at this point it's kind of just another thing that's happened, you know? There's nothing I can do about it now other than move on. So, I'm moving on," you say with an indifferent shrug. He has a calculative look, like he's trying to figure out if you're being truthful or just putting on a front. After so many years, Hongjoong has a pretty good read on you. Sometimes (for the worse), you feel like he can literally see right through you, but you know his attentiveness is a blessing.
He lets out a hum of acknowledgement. "Okay, well, if you ever need to talk about it more, I'm here for you," he states, with a hint of concern seeping through his tone. You smile at him once again, grateful for his support.
"Of course, Joong. Thank you. Truthfully, though, I really feel okay. Yeah, it sucks, but I've already started moving on. I'm sure by the end of this week I won't pay it any mind." The corner of Hongjoong's mouth turns upward into a small half smile, and he gives you a nod of affirmation.
You continue your time together as regularly planned, doing work and engaging in your usual conversation and banter. Unbeknownst to you, Hongjoong's eyes keep drifting to you, his gaze full of warmth. He happily takes his opportunity to steal these glances while you're lost in focus. If you were to catch him, he'd probably just deflect and make a joke at your expense instead. He can't let you know what really rings true in his heart. Not yet. Not so soon.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
As the week comes to a close, your statement in the coffee shop proves so far to be true. You don't linger on the fact that you were cheated on. You actually haven't even thought about your ex or the things they did to you for quite a while. You're rather productive with moving on, given how long you were together. Eventually, you just stopped thinking about it and went on with your life. You still aren't quite ready to start dating again, but you find yourself okay with seeing people casually and hooking up with them. This displeases Hongjoong, but you easily brush him off and laugh about how he's impossible to please. You don't understand Hongjoong's irritation, and he never elaborates when you ask. You think that it should be a good thing that you're beginning to put yourself back out there. Plus, it's nothing excessive, and you're being safe. You know he's coming from a place of care, but you don't think he needs to be so uptight about everything. Even after being best friends for years, there still seems to be some things the two of you will never quite see eye to eye on.
You met Hongjoong many years ago when you first started university. Both of you were in the same gen ed. class and got paired up as partners for a semester-long project. You've been friends ever since.
Truthfully, when the two of you first started becoming close friends, you had a major crush on him. Like, a big-time, head-over-heels, total crush on him. Of course, it only took you one look at him to realize how incredibly attractive he was, but it wasn't just his beauty that had you falling for him. You found his work ethic admirable, and there was a sparkle in his eyes when he talked about his passions. It was so enchanting. Immediately, you could tell he was a man that knew what he wanted, and who would stop at nothing to achieve his dreams. He's the type of person who makes you strive to become better. How could you not completely fall for him? Everything about him was so divine.
However, you were a different person back then, and you lacked the self-confidence you now have. Back then, you couldn't fathom a future where Hongjoong would ever be interested in you the same way you were interested in him. Just the thought of being rejected by someone as perfect as him and losing his presence forever scared you into silence. You were heartbroken, but you figured getting over him to stay friends was a million times better than taking the risk of admitting your feelings. So, that's exactly what you did. You found someone else you were interested in, fell in love with them, and continued being best friends with Hongjoong. The man you once almost considered to be your love became just a friend.
Of course, you still love Hongjoong; he's always in your corner as someone you can always rely on. And even having moved on from your crush, you still can't deny his looks. But times had changed, and it was different now. Even though there was a time when you dreamed of nothing more than being with Hongjoong, you hadn't dared entertain the idea ever since your ex entered the picture. You pushed those feelings for Hongjoong away to protect your friendship and focus on your ex (at least one of you was loyal).
After the breakup, you became so focused on yourself that you didn't even consider the idea of dating again. You didn't want to rush into another relationship with anyone. Despite doing better, it's hard to imagine a life of love after just losing it, and it's hard to imagine a life of trust after just being betrayed. Even though you now have that confidence you used to lack and the knowledge that you're a desirable person many people want and would be lucky to have, the thought of letting someone new in and committing yourself to them is petrifying. You still need more time.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
After a dull day, you spend your evening alone in your cozy, little apartment. Dressed in your pajamas, you snuggle deeper into your couch as you scroll through your phone. You click through various social media apps, responding to messages and liking your friends' posts, until you see something that stops you in your tracks. A photo of your ex kissing the girl they cheated on you with. You stare blankly at the photo for a few moments before closing out of the app and turning your phone off completely.
Doesn't bother me any. I already knew they stayed together. It's none of my business anymore, you think to yourself as you turn on your TV as a distraction. Your eyes stay fixed on the screen, but your mind can't focus. You keep thinking back to that picture. How they looked so happy embracing one another, how they looked so in love, and so… remorseless.
You tap your foot pointedly on the ground before shutting off the TV and trudging to the kitchen. You pace back and forth while looking through your cabinets, trying to find something to make for dinner, but it's pointless. You can't focus on any ingredients in front of you, and you can't think clearly. All that's running through your mind is that picture and just how unfair it all was. A few months ago, if you saw that picture you would have immediately broken down into tears, but the sadness from the past mean nothing to you now, and all you feel is rage.
You storm out of your kitchen and back into the living room, grabbing your phone with the desperate hope to find a distraction from your thoughts and current emotional state. As you pick up your phone, you see a message from Hongjoong: » Is it cool if I come over? « You scoff to yourself. No shot. I'm totally not in the mood for company right now.
…
You text him back: » Sure «
You've always kept an open door policy for your friends, saying your space is theirs if they need it, and that you're always accepting unplanned visits. Hongjoong is no exception, and in fact, he's probably the one who comes over uninvited the most.
You assume he's probably already on the way over since asking, so there's no real point in saying no. You just need to play it cool until he leaves.
Not long after reading the text, you hear a knock at your door. You open it to find Hongjoong in an oversized hoodie and sweats, his hair down and fluffy, and two bags of takeout in his hands. "I figured you hadn't eaten dinner yet, so I brought some food for us," he says with his ':3' smile.
He's right, you haven't eaten yet. The knots in your stomach twist and tighten, wriggling around in anguish like they're in a hopeless attempt to escape. You're grateful that Hongjoong's so considerate, but you really don't think you can eat much in your current state. "Thanks, I appreciate it," you say with a small, forced smile as you let him in.
He makes himself at home in your apartment, stepping in and setting up the food in front of your TV. You stand by the entryway, vacantly watching him. Your mind is far from the present, you're deep in your own head, instead, trying to decipher and rationalize why you were so indignant and bothered by that photo.
You finally notice Hongjoong's worried gaze on you, snapping you back to reality. Your eyes fall behind him, where a now finished table is set up. So much for playing it cool. You shake your head to bring yourself back down to the real world, and force another smile as you make your way over to him.
"Thanks again for the food," you say as you grab the remote, desperately wanting some TV show on as background noise and a way to distract Hongjoong from your odd demeanor. "You were right, I hadn't eaten yet."
He chuckles a little and nudges you as he takes his seat next to you, "You have to start taking better care of yourself."
"You're one to talk," you remark, remembering many of his late nights working fueled by no food and only caffeine. "I think the pot is calling the kettle black, no?" You question him with an eyebrow raised.
He pouts and looks away in faux bashfulness as he picks up his chopsticks, ready to eat. "Yeah, yeah, okay, you got me there," he smiles in your direction. "We'll take care of each other then, alright?" You nod and genuinely smile in return.
Hongjoong's presence and kind words help ease the tension pent up in your body, but the fire building inside of you still rages on. Rationally, you know that ranting about it will help set your mind at ease, but for some reason you can't help but feel ashamed at the thought of bringing up your ex to Hongjoong again.
He's already listened to your troubles so much after your breakup. How would it be fair to continue bringing them up, especially since you really thought you moved on more than this? Truly, before you came across this photo, you had been doing so good. You know progress isn't linear, but you can't help but feel shame in your reaction, and really don't want Hongjoong, a friend you revere so deeply, seeing you in such a vulnerable state.
You stare blankly at the TV and your food, only taking a few bites here and there when you think you can. Primarily, though, you're just pushing it around your plate. Lost in your racing thoughts, you forget about Hongjoong, who's quietly eating next to you.
"[Y/N]," Hongjoong states, staring in your direction. "Talk to me. What's going on up there?"
Your eyebrows raise in surprise at his voice. "Oh, you know. It's just been a kind of quiet night for me. Nothing really wrong," you say awkwardly. He gives you an unimpressed stare, as if to say, "Really?"
"C'mon, I'm serious. You haven't been acting like yourself all night." Oops. You've been caught. Really, you don't know who you were trying to fool. This is Hongjoong you're dealing with; he's perceptive. He can spot the smallest indicators that something's off with you. You do make it easy for him this time, though, since you're seriously bad at playing it cool.
You huff at his observation and let your shoulders sink in on themselves. Why does he have to be so good at that? You pout, continuing to childishly complain in your head. What is he even doing here? He typically gets ahead on work tonight.
"Seriously," he continues, " I know what's going on. Let me bear some of the weight." You scoff inside your head at his persistence, but then the realization dawns on you. You raise your gaze and look up at him.
"You saw the picture too?" You ask him softly. A deep sigh leaves his nose, and he averts his gaze towards the pictures on your wall.
"Yeah, I did." He flicks his eyes back on to you, shrugging one of his shoulders as he says, "I figured you did too, and I was worried about you. Figured you wouldn't want to be alone."
It's quiet for a beat, neither of you breaking the fragile moment. The only sound in the room comes from the sitcom quietly playing on the TV, but even that becomes nothing but a murmur under your shared silence.
You take a breath, small but loud enough to grab Hongjoong's attention. "Thanks," you say softly, barely above a whisper.
"Don't mention it," he replies, equally as soft. The stillness of the moment returns to you, the silence palpable. You know you need to give Hongjoong an explanation, but forming the words feels so difficult. Even if you wanted to, your tongue feels impossible to move, like it weighs a hundred pounds in your mouth. It's just your fear getting to you, you know that, but you need to be brave. Hongjoong is kind enough to go out of his way for you and offer himself as a shoulder to lean on. You urge yourself to say something to him, to not be scared of being vulnerable and taking him up on his offer to listen. Accepting his help doesn't make you a burden to him.
"I'm not sad, by the way," you say to him, breaking the stiff silence between you. You look up from your hands and into Hongjoong's already awaiting eyes. "Well, at least not in the way you might think I am. In fact," you turn your head slightly, unable to bear the weight of looking at him any longer, "I'm actually really, really fucking pissed." Your voice wavers as you finish your sentence.
In all your years of friendship, you think you've only cried in front of Hongjoong maybe once. You typically don't cry in front of other people, opting instead to deal with those emotions by yourself. You prefer to be the type of person others can rely on, keeping your visible emotions light and easy to charm and brighten people's days. Being vulnerable like this in front of Hongjoong is so far out of your comfort zone and possibly one of the scariest things you've done.
"I just… I think I'm nice. I'm soft.. I'm actually a total romantic, believe it or not, and… I don't know… I just get the short end of the stick it seems." You briefly glance over at Hongjoong to read his facial expression. He looks at you intently, waiting patiently for you to continue. "I mean, seeing that photo earlier just really pissed me off because… like… It just.. Ugh!" You take a deep breath— frustrated by not being able to find the right words— and try to redirect your thoughts.
The words still aren't coming to you. You're already upset at the situation, scared and uncomfortable from having to talk about it, and now you're frustrated at yourself for not finding the correct words to convey the thoughts in your head. You can feel yourself beginning to spiral.
Hongjoong, astute as ever, notices as well and reaches his hand out to yours. He's able to ground you and successfully stop you from messing with your fingers, something you had unknowingly been doing as you began your descent. You look down at where his hand sits on top of yours before looking up at Hongjoong's steady face. You look back down at your entwined hands. He gives a soft, supportive squeeze to your hand, urging you to continue.
"They just— they can just go about their lives. Happy and in love with each other. And they can just do that and face absolutely no consequences for what they've done to me. Absolutely none, while I'm stuck here working on myself for who knows how long, rebuilding all the parts of me they made unstable! But they just get to go on with their lives as if nothing happened. As if they didn't do what they did. Meanwhile, I have to go about my life ignoring all the thoughts telling me I'm not enough! They're the reason those thoughts are even there to begin with, but they'll never have to deal with that distress. I do, though! Even when I think I'm doing good, some shit like this will happen and it's like all that work i did on myself was for nothing. Those thoughts come back, and it's like I'm back where I started,
"I've been cheated on time and time again, and I don't know why. Maybe there's something wrong with me, or maybe I just pick all the wrong people, but goddammit, I put my everything in my relationships." You feel tears starting to roll down your face, and your throat gets tighter, making it more difficult to speak. "I just," you start quietly, "I'm furious. I don't deserve to be treated this way. I know I don't. I deserve to be loved. And I know this kind of love exists in the world because it lives within me, but I've never been on the receiving end of it! That's just so unfair. If I can't be loved, then I deserve to be respected at the very least…" You trail off, your voice softer than it was when you started.
You focus again on your hand in Hongjoong's, watching his thumb caress your skin. Slowly, you lift your head and take in Hongjoong's expression. His mouth is painted in a deep frown, and his eyes are painfully sad, almost as if he's holding back tears of his own. Somewhere deep inside you, a wall crumbles. "I just don't get it," you say, your voice breaking as more tears fall.
Immediately, he reaches out and pulls you into him, one arm cradling your head while the other wraps protectively around your back. Neither of you are particularly touchy people, but this comforting position— this moment— feels so warm to you. Against Hongjoong's chest, every protective barrier inside you crumbles and breaks. You cry harder, his shirt muffling the sound as he holds you tighter, trying to soothe your shaking body. "I'm so fucking angry," you reiterate in that same pitiful, broken voice that made Hongjoong want to hold you.
"Shhh.. I know," he says calmly, petting his hand soothingly across your hair. "You never deserved what happened to you." You continue to sob at his kind words. "There's nothing wrong with you either. Your exes are low-life, evil pieces of scum for doing the things they did to you, and you're so strong for being able to overcome it all." Another sob trembles through your body, and your arms tighten around Hongjoong's back, attempting to become impossibly closer to your best friend and only source of comfort right now.
"You're right, too," he continues as he places his chin on top of your head. "You do deserve to be treated better and loved. You deserve to be loved and valued for all of eternity." His voice gets softer. "You deserve someone who will cherish and adore you, someone who will give you the whole world and more. Someone who will provide anything you wish." You take a few deep, uneven breaths, trying to steady your breathing from the crying. Hongjoong is still holding you as close as he possibly can. "I mean it," he whispers, "I truly do."
You stay in your positions for minutes or hours. You're not sure, time seems to pass slower in Hongjoong's arms. Throughout it all, Hongjoong occasionally gives you more words of comfort or a grounding, "I'm here."
Eventually, enough time passes for you to stop the tears and steady your body. Now, you find yourself worrying that staying in his arms oversteps boundaries. You know Hongjoong isn't very physically affectionate, and for the most part, you aren't either (the only time you feel comfortable initiating physical affection is with romantic partners). It dawns on you how out of character it was for him to initiate contact, and you start to push back. As you lean up to sit on your own, Hongjoong's arms loosen around you. You see the giant wet spot you left on Hongjoong's hoodie and cringe. "I'm sorry about that," you hoarsely mumble out, nodding your head in the direction of the spot on his chest.
He looks down and lets out a tiny chuckle. "You have nothing to apologize for." Still a bit embarrassed about your breakdown, you timidly peek up at his face. His eyes are so full of comfort and warmth. He looks at you with nothing but care and adoration. There's something unfamiliar deep within his gaze, but you don't dwell on it. Instead, you want to spend your last bout of energy focused on the present with your friend.
"Thank you, Hongjoong, for being here. Truly, I mean it. I don't know what I'd do without you."
"Oh, you wouldn't last a day," he jokes. You lightly giggle along with him, thankful for the lighthearted mood. Conversation the rest of the evening is sparse, but relaxed. You're mainly just talking about the strange subplot of the show you're finally able to pay attention to. The air isn't tense like before; it's comfortable and quiet. Hongjoong's presence puts you at ease, and the remainder of your night with him alleviates all your prior negative emotions.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
In the following weeks, you were met with a lot of progress. You block your ex and the girl they cheated on you with on all social media, ensuring that nothing else they post will make its way back to you, and effectively wipe them from your radar. You spend your time focusing on yourself and your friends— even more than before. Being with people you love and who love you brings support and tranquility into your sphere, and they help immensely to remind you that you're valued enough as a person. You don't need a rotten partner to feel like you're worthy of love and respect; you know it already in your heart, and it is reflected in the hearts of those you hold close. When you aren't with your friends, you spend your time engaging in your hobbies and picking up new ones, like journaling to help on days with bad thoughts. Creativity flows through you far more than before, and you feel as though you've finally gotten a piece of your old spark back. Some days are harder than others, but overall, each day is easier than the last.
Along with progress, you were also met with a lot of Hongjoong. The two of you already spend tons of time together, but since that night it feels like you can't get a break from him! Of course, you mean that lightheartedly. You're undoubtedly appreciative of his support and his company, but you're also starting to get a little concerned. You assume that since Hongjoong's never seen you in such a vulnerable and broken state before, he's just extra cautious and worried about you. Even still, it's been almost a month since that night, and he's just as attentive. It's very curious.
Not long after returning home from work late one evening, you hear a knock on your apartment door. It's Hongjoong, no doubt. "It's open!" you yell from your bedroom as you change out of your work attire and into something more comfortable. The door clicks open, and you hear Hongjoong shout out a greeting. Coming out of your room, you see him still standing near the entryway, clumsily rocking back and forth on his feet with his hands behind his back. He looks at you with bright eyes and a small pout on his face.
"Hey, you look nice," he says to you, briefly taking in your appearance. You tilt your head to the side, slightly puzzled by his out-of-the-blue compliment and restless demeanor. You hesitantly thank him for the compliment before he adds, "You should grab your coat."
"And why should I do that?" you ask, skeptical about what he's planning.
"It's a really beautiful night tonight. You always talk about wanting to go stargazing, and I found a good spot for it not far from here. So, I thought we could go for a walk and go check it out," he replies with a smile. Warmth blossoms in your chest as you think back to the last time you mentioned wanting to go stargazing. It's probably been at least a year ago since you had brought that up around anybody, and it was likely an off-handed comment too.
"You remembered I like to stargaze and that I had been wanting to go?" you incredulously ask him.
"Yeah, of course I did," he casually replies. He says it as if it's the most obvious fact about you he could've remembered. He said it like it was remembering your birthday or what you do for work, not like it was an off-handed comment you said forever ago.
Fully processing Hongjoong's words and what you're about to do, excitement overcomes your body. You burst into the brightest smile, and eagerness runs through your veins. "Wait right there!" you shout out to Hongjoong before bouncing off to your room to grab a jacket and your shoes. Hongjoong is left giggling at your evident excitement. You hurry back to him, now wearing the appropriate outerwear for a late-night walk. "C'mon, what are you waiting for? Let's go, let's go!" You impatiently usher him out the door, and he continues to watch you in amusement, chuckling at your giddiness.
The night air is chilly, but not harsh. How could it be with so much excitement in the air and Hongjoong walking so close to you? His hand brushes against yours a couple of times, but neither of you cares to move further away. On your walk, you talk animatedly about anything that comes to your mind, and he willingly takes the role of main listener. He adds to the conversation occasionally, but he primarily just leads the way and allows you to talk as much as you wanted. Caught up in the high-spirited moment and your chatter, you don't notice how often Hongjoong glances over at you with that small, kind grin on his face. You don't see how he looks at you like you hung the very stars you were about to gaze at.
You arrive at a rather large park you've never been to before, and Hongjoong guides you deeper through it until you reach a large, open field with a few tall trees and no light pollution.
"Wow, Hongjoong, this is amazing!" you exclaim, taking a seat on the grass beneath you. You both lean back on the ground, the sides of your heads touching slightly as you look up towards the night sky. The stars gleam and sparkle; they're brighter than you could've ever imagined them. The two of you alternate between taking in the night sky in quiet contemplation and talking about the beauty above you. He asks you to point out the constellations you know, and you show him by taking his pointed hand in yours and tracing them in the night sky. He asks about your favorite constellations and the stories behind them, while you ask if he sees any shapes in the sky and what stories he'd give them. The conversation between you flows so easily— just as it always did— but this moment feels so much more tender than normal.
"This is perfect," you softly tell him after another hushed moment.
"You know," he says with a hint of uncertainty in his voice, "we can do things like this all the time."
You turn your head to the side to get a better look at his face. "Yeah, I know," you respond as if it's the most obvious thing in the world.
"No, I mean," his eyes dart away from yours as a pout starts to take form on his mouth. "I mean, we can do things like this all the time.. together. The two of us."
"Yeah, of course we can," you giggle at him. Hongjoong groans next to you, bringing his hands up to cover his eyes in frustration. His reaction slows your laughter. "Hongjoong, what's going on?" you ask, intrigued by what's getting your friend so worked up.
"I'm no good at this," he says, his words muffled from behind his hands. Your eyebrow raises at his statement, but before you could question him any further, he shoots up from his lying position and into a sitting one. He looks down at your face, and you can see the conflict and frustration evident on his facial features. The longer he looks at your face, however, you see the pained expressions fade out into ones of… adoration? He lets out a puff of air from his nose— the sound resembling one of affection.
Possibly more to himself than to you, he whispers, "The stars are dancing in your eyes." Your breath hitches. "I could look at them forever."
"Hongjoong…"
"Look, [Y/N], I know you've been through so much recently, and I don't want to make you uncomfortable, but I have to let you know how I feel." You slowly sit up, intrigued yet slightly worried by your friend's strange behavior. You tilt your head to the side, silently allowing him to continue at his own pace. He takes a breath and looks deep into your eyes. "I'm… I'm in love with you."
You stop breathing, and your brain begins to short circuit. "What?" you hoarsely whisper to him, not believing you actually heard what he said.
"I'm in love with you. Desperately. I have been for a long time." You look at his face, searching for any hint of deception, but you find none. It's too dark outside to really tell, but you're certain his cheeks and ears are red.
"You… You're serious," you state, still skeptical, but you know Hongjoong would never joke about such a thing. Definitely not like this.
"I am. And I know you're not looking for a relationship right now, but I just couldn't hold it in anymore," he replies, desperation seeping through his tone.
You remain speechless for another beat, letting silence take over the moment before asking, "What changed?" You're not upset at the confession— not at all— it's just so unexpected, and you're so confused. You never once considered a timeline where Kim Hongjoong would be interested in you. You can't understand where he's coming from, or how this all happened.
He sighs deeply and turns his head to the side, looking off in the distance. "That night.. I don't want to ever see you that way again: so upset and broken."
"Hongjoong, if that's the only reason-"
"But it isn't!" he interrupts, correctly anticipating where your train of thought would take you. "I've been in love with you for almost as long as I've known you. I'm not the best with my feelings— you know this— so it took me a little while to realize it. By the time I did, you had already found someone else. Even if you hadn't, I probably still wouldn't have said anything right away." You rack your brain, going through years' worth of memories with Hongjoong. You try to imagine and accept that Hongjoong has been in love with you through all of them. It feels unreal.
"That night," he continues, "holding you while hearing about how you have to remind yourself that you're enough because of what that asshole did to you, it broke my heart. Especially because I cherish you more than anything, and I know I would never do anything to hurt you. Never do anything to make you feel less than what you are. Actually, I truly don't understand how anyone could look at you and not feel blessed that you're in their life. That breaks my heart, and I can't go on without you knowing how special you are to me."
You inhale sharply at his words. "Hongjoong, I…" You take a second, trying your best to look over his face in the moonlight. Your thoughts race, your heart pounds, and your chest tightens. You don't know what to say to him. Not trusting your mind to come up with an answer, you listen to your body instead, and you feel as though you're about to enter fight or flight. The thought of getting into a new relationship… it scares you and feels suffocating. You're not against the idea of being with Hongjoong, but you have to put yourself first. "I don't want to say no to you, but I'm still scared," you whisper out.
He reaches out his hand and grabs yours. "I know, and I don't want to rush anything or make you uncomfortable. All I ask is that you give me the chance to show you that I'm serious. Let me prove to you that I truly love you and that you can trust me with your heart." You look at him curiously. All you see in his face is sincerity. "I'll go at your pace, and I can wait for as long as you need. Or, with one word from you, I'll stop. I know it's a bit selfish of me to confess while you're not ready for anything, but I want to show you how much I value you and that my love for you is genuine."
You think for a moment, and, despite your scattered state of mind, you find yourself reaching a decision quicker than expected. You nod. "Yeah, okay. You can do that." You see a toothy smile as a wave of relief washes over his face. He looks cute like this.
"I promise, I'll be someone you can wholeheartedly trust."
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
That night, you don't sleep much. You lose yourself in your jumbled thoughts while you continuously toss and turn in your sheets. Still in disbelief, you almost convince yourself that you made up the entire exchange. You find yourself thinking back to all of the things that happened throughout the years: all of the times Hongjoong had been with you, all of the times his interest might've shone through, all of the times your ex had treated you poorly. You think back to when you still had an active crush on Hongjoong, which felt like lifetimes ago. You're a completely different person now, but could that previous version of yourself who was head over heels for Hongjoong still be living deep inside you? Is it even possible to return to those feelings? You don't know, and you're really just stressing yourself out by thinking about it.
The following day is your weekly coffee shop meetup with Hongjoong. You worry all day about what to expect, unsure of what your dynamic would be like now and what Hongjoong really meant by 'showing you he cares'.
Upon your arrival at your usual coffee shop, you see that Hongjoong's already sitting at your favorite table. In front of him are two coffee cups.
"Hey," he smiles up at you. "I got you your usual." It's not uncommon for him to occasionally get your drink for you if he arrives early, but it still brings a smile to your face.
"Thank you," you say with a smile as you take your seat across from him. You set up your laptop and start on the work you need to get done. So far, everything seems normal. You began to think you were worried for no reason; maybe everything will just pass over like nothing happened. As that thought crosses your mind,however, you find yourself uneased by the possibility of that being the case. You're not quite sure what you want yet or what to expect going forward, and you find that to be relatively troublesome.
As you stare off into your laptop screen with your thoughts running wild, a small sensation brings you back down to earth. You feel Hongjoong's leg slot between yours under the table; your ankle and calf are now lightly pressed by his. You shoot your head up to look at him, only to see bright red cheeks, a large pout, and his eyes glued to his notebook, desperately trying to avoid your gaze.
You gape slightly at him, studying his expression and actions in awe. Even though it's a small gesture done in his Hongjoong-like way (a way you honestly prefer), he's still initiating physical contact with you. Hongjoong never does that for the sole purpose of just doing it. The thought of Hongjoong reaching out to touch someone just for the comfort of touching is unheard of, and yet here he is doing it.
"You're really serious about this, aren't you?" you state— more so than ask— after gaping at him for a beat too long.
He finally looks up at you as he replies, "Yeah, I am." His cheeks are still so red, it almost makes you want to giggle. It's obvious he's out of his comfort zone but genuinely trying to make an effort.
You smile softly at him. "You know, you don't have to do anything that makes you uncomfortable."
"Don't worry," he smirks, determination in his eyes, "I don't do anything I don't want to." A second passes before his face molds into something more sincere. "If I did anything to make you uncomfortable, though, you'd tell me, right?"
"Of course I would," you respond. You're grateful that Hongjoong makes sure you are okay, but there is honestly very little he could do that would make you uneasy.
"Good," he says, bringing his attention back to his work. As he does so, you feel his leg press more confidently against yours, the sensation from the touch more prominent than before. "I meant every word that I said last night," he says, still looking down at his notebook. "As soon as you're ready to open your heart up again," he looks up and locks eyes with you, "I want it to be for me. Nobody else." The look in his eyes, a mix of adoration and determination, makes you want to shiver. You know Hongjoong is the type of person to work hard and make his dreams a reality, but you never expected to be part of those dreams.
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
The initial hurdle of believing Hongjoong is in love with you is the hardest part, then getting used to his affections quickly follows. You worried about how different it would be between you two, but you find that not too much has changed. It's still just you and Hongjoong— like it always had been— but now it's… more.
As the weeks go on, you become the sole recipient of Hongjoong's affections. His pursuit of physical touch increases tenfold, always seeking out some part of you to touch. He does it all: brushing your hands, pressing his limbs against yours, throwing an arm around your shoulders, or tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear. You notice he compliments you far more frequently than he ever did before. He's always telling you how nice and pretty you look, how kind you are, and how he's glad he can spend his time with you.
For a while, you feel bad that you're not returning any of his affections, but after bringing it up to him, all he says is that you can take as much time as you need, and that loving you isn't a matter of transaction. Of course, he would certainly like it if you reciprocated, but he knows it's still difficult for you after your last relationship. You aren't sure if you can ever match Hongjoong's love in the same way, or if you'd ever be able to return to that crush you once had on him. That's what worries you most. The last thing you want to do is break your best friend's heart, but the thought of loving again seems so distant. You love so much, you love with everything in you, and all you've gotten is contempt in return. Loving someone again, even someone like Hongjoong, who you know is good, just seems impossible.
Or that's what you thought. As the weeks turn to months, and Hongjoong's love for you never faltering, you begin to notice changes in yourself. You begin to put a bit more effort into your appearance on days you know you'll see Hongjoong, and you feel your cheeks flush whenever he compliments you. While his touch used to have you tense up with surprise, you now find yourself seeking it out, leaning into it, and feeling cold when it's not there. What really gets you is his little surprises.
One day while at work, a delivery comes for you: a large bouquet of pink 'stargazer' lilies. Your favorite flowers. On the bouquet, a note reads, "I couldn't stop thinking about you today, so I figured I'd send you a little something. HJ ♡"
Your heart flutters in your chest and your cheeks burn red. All day your coworkers ooh and aah at your bouquet, gushing about how pretty it is and how they wish their husbands or boyfriends would do the same. They ask questions about who sent them and what he looks like, and they fuss over how handsome he is and how good you look together when you show them a picture. Their comments leave you more flustered and red than you already are. When they ask how long you have been together, you're unsure how to answer. You end up just telling them how many years you've known each other, and they say how lucky you are to be with someone who still puts in the effort after such a long time. Their comments get you thinking about your time with Hongjoong and what the future would be like. You honestly can't imagine a future without Hongjoong in it. In fact, it sounds like a life of misery without him. You know you want Hongjoong by your side for the rest of time, but now you're starting to open up to another way for that to happen.
You leave work that day with a text message to Hongjoong saying: »You were a hot topic at work today«
He responds quickly: »So you liked the flowers?«
»I loved them«
More weeks go by, and your attraction only becomes more present in your mind. You constantly find yourself daydreaming about his smile, his hand on yours, the way his tattoo peaks out from behind the sleeves of his shirts. Since you're still unsure of what you want, you try to keep your own flirtations to a minimum, but you wonder if Hongjoong has caught on to your growing feelings for him. Even still, Hongjoong's devotion to you never wavers.
This evening, you're preparing to go to Hongjoong's apartment for dinner. He asked you a few days prior if you would come over, and after agreeing you asked, "Is this romantic Hongjoong asking or friend Hongjoong?" He only looked at you with a smirk before responding, "They're the same thing."
You were supposed to head over to his right after work, but instead you take a detour to your apartment first to change clothes and freshen up. Hongjoong has seen you in your after-work state a million times before, but you figure if he's putting in the effort to make you a nice dinner then you could put in the effort to show up looking a bit nicer than normal.
You arrive to his apartment soon after, and you feel butterflies in your stomach as you knock on the door. Strange, that hasn't happened in a long time.
You smooth you hands over the front of your clothes and run your fingers through your hair, wanting to make sure you look presentable before Hongjoong lets you in. Right as you fluff your hair, Hongjoong opens the door with a smile on his face that immediately drops at the sight of you. "Oh, you look so pretty," he says to you quietly as his eyes roam over your form. You feel heat rise to your face under his warm gaze and at his sweet words.
"Thank you," you quietly respond as he lets you in. Since when did you become so bashful around him??
Upon entry, you're immediately hit by the delicious smell of food cooking in the kitchen. Warm-toned lamps light up the apartment, and music plays softly from the record player in the living room.
"What are you making?" you ask, leaning across the kitchen counter as Hongjoong gets back to working on the food.
"Doenjang-jjigae," he replies, focusing his attention on the food in front of him. He's making one of your favorite meals. You smile to yourself at his thoughtfulness.
"Do you need any help?" you ask, wanting to make yourself useful. He looks at you incredulously.
"Not at all. You keeping me company is enough, so just sit back and let me take care of you," he says with a wink.
"How chivalrous of you," you tease, masking the fact that you actually feel very touched by his words and efforts.
He lightly exhales a laugh. "I've been told a time or two that I can be quite the gentleman."
You narrowly cut your eyes at him. "Oh, yeah? By who?" He turns his head to the side to get a better look at you, still stirring the ingredients in front of him. He has a cocky look on his face that makes you want to roll your eyes. Or kiss it clean off. You're not sure.
"Do my ears deceive me, or is that jealousy in your tone, [Y/N]?" He looks far too proud of himself.
"It's your ears," you swiftly respond. He chuckles lightly at you.
"I'm not too sure about that," he taunts. You pout at his words, and Hongjoong spares you a look before letting out a full laugh. "Awh, there's no need to sulk," he teases as your pout grows deeper. "If it makes you feel any better, I get jealous too."
"Yeah, of course you do. You're a Scorpio," you state as if it's obvious. He simply chuckles in response and says something along the lines of, "You got me there."
As the room settles and the sound of chopping and food bubbling fills the space, you decide to ask him a question that has been plaguing your mind since he confessed. "Hey, Hongjoong?" He hums in response, focusing on the final touches of dinner. "When you said you had been in love with me for a long time… just when did you realize it?"
He pauses for a moment to think before continuing his work. "Since the end of our first year in college. I realized about two or three months before you started seeing your ex, but truthfully, looking back, I had started falling by the end of that first semester."
"Huh, so same time as me then," you murmur, mainly to yourself, but it's still loud enough for Hongjoong to catch what you said. His body stills, and he whips his head towards you.
"What?" he asks, his eyes wide.
"Oh," you tilt your head at him, "I guess I never told you. I used to have a massive crush on you back in the day." For a moment, he doesn't say anything; he just blinks at you with his mouth slightly ajar.
"What?" he asks again. "What happened?" He turns to face you fully, dinner forgotten behind him.
"Don't worry, it wasn't because of anything you did or didn't do. It was all me. I was just a completely different person back then, and I couldn't see a future where someone like you would be interested in being with someone like me."
"What do you mean by that? Someone like me?" His tone sounds puzzled and faintly anxious.
You give him a slight smile, hoping to ease his worries somewhat, and move further into the kitchen to help plate the food he had forgotten about in favor of you. "It's just," you begin, a small sigh escaping your lips as you scoop the stew in front of you, "I didn't think highly of myself then. I've lived hundreds of lifetimes between then and now, and the me today knows my value and worth. But, back then, I…" you still for a moment, trying to find the right words. You don't know how to convey to Hongjoong that you used to think of yourself as simple, inconsequential, ugly. At least not in a way that wouldn't absolutely break his heart. "I just didn't at the time."
You feel Hongjoong's presence as he steps closer towards you. "And you were…" You turn to look him in the eye, but you're now much closer than anticipated— only a few inches separated your faces. "You were unreachable," you say gently, a dreamy whisp in your voice. "I know I tease you for saying this all the time, but truthfully there really is no one like you, Hongjoong." You hear his breath hitch from where you stand, and his eyes look deep and unreadable. "And at the time I just couldn't picture it," you shrug. "Someone as radiant as you choosing to be with someone as insignificant as me." Upon hearing your words, sorrow begins to take place in Hongjoong's features. You continue in hopes of reassuring him, "But that was the old me. I'm different now. Better."
Hongjoong takes another step towards you, further closing the gap between you two. He's so close you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. Your heartbeat quickens when he looks down at your lips before landing his eyes back on yours. "I know you're a different person now, but even still… Do you think you'll ever have those feelings you used to have for me again?" he asks quietly, as if one wrong noise would break the moment entirely. Thoughts race through your mind, your face is flushed, and you feel every word you could possibly say to him get stuck in the center of your throat. Not trusting yourself enough to speak, you look up at him through your eyelashes and nod instead. He smiles at that. It's a genuine smile: a bit lopsided, showing the sharpness of his teeth. You can't help but think how attractive he looks like that.
"Good," he says to you as softly as before. "because I don't want you looking at anybody else. Only me." He smiles down at you for another moment before turning to grab the dishes and set the table.
Only as he starts walking away do you feel like you can breathe normally again. "I guess that's the jealousy you mentioned earlier," you jokingly comment as you follow him to the table, hoping it'll help cut the tension that now runs rampant throughout the apartment.
"Mhm," he hums in response as he set the plates down. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket to light some candles he laid out before your arrival. Alongside the candles is a small vase that holds a few stems of flowers.
"Wow. Romantic," you state, standing next to Hongjoong as you admire his work.
"Heh, I know, right?" he replies, pride seeping out of his voice and stance. His conviction and self-confidence are endearing to see in action. So much so, you giggle to yourself and smile behind your hand. He gives you one quick look before pulling out the chair for you to sit down.
You eye him as you take your seat. "There really is no end to your doting, is there?" you say lightheartedly. You tease him, but you're actually the furthest thing from annoyed.
"Of course there isn't," he replies while taking his own seat. "Why should there be?" You don't have a good response for him, so he continues to sit there— proud and smug.
Hongjoong's meal is absolutely delicious, and it's evident he put a lot of effort into making it. Conversation during dinner is ceaseless, easy, and indisputably flirtatious. When you finish eating, Hongjoong swiftly takes the plates to the kitchen before coming back to the table with a bottle of wine and a surprise dessert he made. It seems he's pulling out all the stops this evening.
"Hongjoong," you say after taking a sip of wine, "there's something else I've been curious about."
"And what would that be?"
You toy with the fork in front of you and look at Hongjoong flirtatiously through your eyelashes. "What was it about me that caused you to fall for me?"
He huffs out a breath of endearment. "What, still can't believe that I'm in love with you, so now you need specifics?" His tone is light and unserious, but there's an air of genuine concern in the question.
"No, I believe it. Like I said, I'm simply curious," you reply with a small smile. You stare down at your dessert, trying to avoid Hongjoong's knowing gaze. You say, now quiet and earnestly, "I would just like to hear you say what."
"Well, it was a culmination of things, really," he begins, taking your hand into his from across the table. "Like how kind and sweet you are, how caring you are, how you make me laugh." He runs his thumb across your hand, and his eyes are open and honest as he looks into yours. Even if his words aren't enough for you, his eyes tell you everything you need to hear. "I love how you show up for the people around you, and how you light up every room you're in." At this point, you start becoming bashful. You know you were the one to ask, but being the absolute center of Hongjoong's attention and hearing everything about you he adores is almost too much. His loving words and devoted gaze are something so unfamiliar to you. You're not used to warmth like this.
"That's what made me fall, but every day since then, I've fallen for you more and more," he continues. "Seeing you grow, face hardships with care and grace, and still hold so much love in your heart, that just made me fall further."
You turn your face away, unable to bear the weight of his stare any longer. "Hongjoong…"
"I love how you feel so deeply. Not just for yourself, either, but for everyone around you, too. You have so many of the qualities I lack, and I think that's beautiful. You're like a star in the night sky leading me home."
Your face is warm and surely pink all over. You glance over to Hongjoong, who's still looking at you with that tender expression. "Hongjoong, please…" He lets out a laugh at your reaction.
"What? I thought you wanted to know," he jokes as you pout at him, your face still just as rosy. "I haven't even gotten to tell you how beautiful you are! How I get lost in your eyes, or how your lips pull me in-"
"Okay!" you interrupt, one hand covering your flaming red face while the other stays in Hongjoong's grasp. "You can't just say things like that.." you mutter, now unable to take much more of his compliments.
He laughs loudly at your reaction, gripping your hand tighter. "Really, though, you're someone I've always admired and respected, and you've always been by my side. How could I not have fallen madly in love with you?"
. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁
Your evening with Hongjoong continued with tensions that ran high, but you didn't end up acting on anything. You certainly wanted to, but you still held some reservations in your heart and mind. You're certain you've fallen for him again, but you're worried that you still can't give him as much as he deserves quite yet. You want to be completely sure and confident in your love for him— and yourself— before opening your heart to him and letting him in.
You honestly aren't sure when you will be ready. You aren't sure where the natural turning point in your relationship with Hongjoong is or if anything would change. In your previous relationships, everything changed for the worse after becoming official, and the thought of that happening again with Hongjoong worries you. On top of that, you had become used to his doting, and you fear you wouldn't be able to do the same for him yet. Not the the same extent, at least. Not while you're still hindered with fears from your poor previous relationship.
But you decided to put the thought of it all off for now. A mutual friend of yours and Hongjoong's invited you both to a movie night at their apartment, and you figured you could wait until after then to figure your feelings out.
Their apartment wasn't far from yours, so you decided to walk and meet up with Hongjoong there. The affair was lively, bright, and loud, with many of your mutual friends littering the apartment space. There aren't too many people in the apartment, but just enough for mutliple different groups of conversation and activities to form. Even still, Hongjoong spends a majority of his time extra close to your side.
The two of you converse with your friend, Jongho, and his plus one until Hongjoong gets called into the other room.
"You want anything while I'm gone?" he asks you before he leaves.
"No, I'm okay right now," you respond. His eyes stayed glued to you for a moment longer before giving you a small smile and nod then walks away to the other room.
You bring your attention back to awaiting eyes. Jongho's friend has a sweet smile on her face, while Jongho has one that is knowing and mischevious. "You and your boyfriend are really cute together," she says to you.
"Thank you," you quietly respond at the same time Jongho says, "Oh, they aren't dating."
He gapes at you with an incredulous look, and you quickly work to recover before you become victim to Jongho's teasing.
"Jongho's right; we technically aren't dating."
"Technically?!" he questions, his eyebrows raising and a smirk making permenant home on his face.
"Yeah, technically!" you defend. "He confessed to me a while ago and has sort of been… courting me until I'm ready to date again."
"Wow," he starts. "I never thought Hongjoong would actually be able to do it."
You tilt your head up at him. "You mean you've known this whole time?"
"[Y/N], he didn't have to explicitly say it for any of us to know. He makes it extremely obvious."
You think back to how all of your friends would act around you and Hongjoong in the past. Just how long have you been clueless??
"So," Jongho says, bringing your attention back down to Earth, "When are you two going to start dating for real?"
You shrug your shoulders. "Whenever I feel comfortable being in a relationship again, I guess."
"You guys are basically dating now, why string it out and lead him on?" Jongho asks casually.
"I am not leading him on!" He gives you an unimpressed stare before looking towards his friend with an expression that seems to sarcastically say, "Yeah, right."
"I'm serious, I'm not leading him on any. I'm just still not ready to offically date again after last time. I was in a really long relationship, that takes time!" you attempt to justify.
"Yeah, a long shitty relationship. Seriously, what's the hold up?" The look on his face is casual and slightly playful, but his eyes show genuine concern.
You look away before cautiously replying, "I guess I'm just a little worried to fully trust someone again."
"Are you serious? This is Hongjoong we're talking about. When has anyone not been able to completely trust him?"
Jongho's question rings in your ears and echoes in your head long after the conversation is over. He's right. You've never not trusted Hongjoong before. He's one of the most trustworthy people you know, if not the most trustworthy. He's never given you any reason to not trust him. A title change won't make any difference.
Before the movie officially starts, you go to the kitchen to grab drinks and snacks for you and Hongjoong, while he secures your spots on the couch. As you walk back into the living room, you can't help but laught at the scene in front of you— Hongjoong is sitting at the end cushion of the couch with a large pout on his face, and your mutual friend, Yunho, sits flushed up against him with a large smile on his lips. Yunho takes a look at you, then Hongjoong, before trying to cuddle up even closer to him. Hongjoong leans impossibly further into the arm of the couch and tries to push Yunho away. There's no doubt he's doing this because Hongjoong has been more obvious about his feelings for you tonight, and you can only imagine how much teasing he's been subjected to before now. Seriously, just how clueless have you been??
Yunho eases his teasing as you walk closer to the couch. Hongjoong looks up at you with that grimace he saves for when his friends get on his nerves, but Yunho still looks like a puppy dog sprawled across his owner's lap.
You're certain he wanted to sit next to you and not Yunho, and that's probably half of the reason for the pout on his lips. You give him a smile in return and hand him his drink before grabbing a blanket and choosing to sit on the floor in front of him instead, your back now pressed against the couch and between Hongjoong's legs.
The rest of your friends settle in on the remaining spaces available on the couch, chairs, and floor before the lights turn off and the movie starts. Shortly after the film begins, you feel Hongjoong's hands in your hair. At first, you think he's trying to get your attention, until you realize that he's simply keeping his hands busy. His fingers rake through your strands rhythmically, occasionally making small braids before letting them loose and raking through them again. The motions sent a wave of calm over you as you lean further into his touch. The longer he plays with your hair, the more tranquil you become, and, eventually you feel your head and eyelids growing heavy. Giving in, you tilt your head to rest it upon Hongjoong's leg beside you, and you let the serenity overtake you.
You awake to the feeling of soft, gentle touches to your face and Hongjoong's quiet voice saying, "Hey, pretty girl, time to wake up."
"Hongjoongie?" you murmur as you open your eyes groggily. As you blink the sleep out of your eyes, the world becomes clearer and you can see the look of endearment painting his face.
"How about I drive you home?" he asks, his tone as quiet as before. You blink some more and take in your surroundings, seeing the few remainder of your friends getting ready to leave themselves.
"Oh no, I missed the whole movie?"
Hongjoong chuckles softly. "Don't worry, you wouldn't have liked it anyway. It had way too much cgi for your taste. C'mon, let's go." He reaches a hand out to you to help you up. You accept his hand up with a stretch and begin to gather both yours and Hongjoong's things as you both say your goodbyes to everyone. "Ready?" he asks you, and you nod in reply while holding his keys out for him.
The ride back to your apartment is peaceful. Hongjoong plays his music at a soft volume, and sparse conversation keeps the energy in the car calm.
This is Hongjoong we're talking about. When has anyone not been able to completely trust him?
Jongho's words continue to play in your head. The more you think about it, the more true it becomes. You can't believe you ever thought otherwise. Additionally to that, everything is just easy with Hongjoong. You don't have to worry about being too high energy around him, or conversely, being too boring when your social battery is down. In fact, you never felt more relaxed around any other person, and you certainly don't trust anyone else enough to fall asleep on them in a crowded room. No other person has ever brought you that much comfort.
No one has ever shown you love the way Hongjoong has. No one has ever cared as deeply or yearned for you as long. He has shown his love for you since you became friends, and in the past few months he's shown it in so many different ways unrelentlessly, and never once asking for anything in return. You feel so incredibly lucky, and so incredibly stupid for not realizing sooner that the love you've always longed for was right under your nose.
Even though it'd be nice to change the past and be with him sooner, you can't dwell on the 'what-ifs.' You're happy with who and where you are today, and you now know that you want your future to always include Hongjoong and his love.
This is Hongjoong we're talking about. The car comes to a slow stop outside of your apartment. You and Hongjoong look to each other, but otherwise make no other movements towards exiting the car. When has anyone not been able to completely trust him?
"Thank you for driving me," you say to him.
"You don't have to thank me for that." The stillness returns. Neither of you quite know what to say to each other next, but you know you don't want the moment to end.
"You're, uh, still planning on going to Wooyoung's birthday this week, right?" Even though you know his answer will be yes, it's the best you can come up with to stay in the car with him for a moment longer.
"Yeah, of course," he replies, his tone soft. You look at him for one more moment, knowing you'll have to go in eventually.
"Okay, well.. I'll see you then."
I'm ready.
You briefly hesitate before leaning closer and gently placing your lips upon his cheek. As you lean back, you take note of how red his face is. Not only is it cute, but it feels nice to have Hongjoong blushing for once instead of you.
"Goodnight, Hongjoong," you whisper, stepping out of the car.
Before entering your apartment, you turn to face his car one last time and give a small wave.
Oh, god. I really love him.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
The energy inside the bar was loud, stuffy, and lively. J. Wang, the bar you're at, is one of the hottest spots in the city, and it's the perfect place for your energetic, loving friend, Wooyoung's, birthday celebration. It has the perfect amount of energy to party, but it's still more laid back than a typical club. You stand by the large booth in the secluded corner reserved for the party where it's a bit easier to hear and breathe. You talk with one of Wooyoung's friends you don't know very well, and you want to give the conversation your complete attention, but your attention keeps drifting to the entrance of the bar. You're anxiously awaiting Hongjoong's arrival, and your newfound butterflies feel like they're about to rip a hole right through your stomach.
Hongjoong had offered to take you to the bar, but you declined in favor of getting there early; you wanted to ensure you could give Wooyoung his birthday present before the night got carried away. You hadn't seen Hongjoong since he drove you home from the movie night two days ago, and you're not sure what to expect tonight. All you know is that you're eagerly anticipating his arrival, wanting badly to be here with him.
While you converse, you spot a familiar head of hair make its way through the crowd of bodies at the entrance. Your heartbeat quickens. Hongjoong's hair is styled so that his forehead is visible, and he's wearing a tight-fitted shirt that's tucked into his pants. The style accentuates his waist and chest. To put it blatantly, he looks really fucking hot. He catches your eye and gives you a smirk as he walks towards the back corner. Your cheeks become rosy, and you feel warm under his gaze that never leaves your form.
As soon as he approaches you, he leans his head down towards your ear and says, "You look stunning." His breath is hot, and the sensation sends goosebumps down your skin. He's so close to your ear, you can almost feel his lips against your skin. All that goes through your mind is how you wish he would close that small gap. You want to experience the feel of his lips on you— not just the phantom touch of them.
You smile back up at Hongjoong, placing your hand on his shoulder to tug him down to your height and reverse your positions. "So do you," is all you tell him, but in a state of want, your flirtatious tendencies take control, and you allow your mouth to inch closer than his did. As you say your compliment, your lips brush against his ear, and you allow them to linger there for a moment longer before pulling away from him. Looking up at his face now, desire and longing evident in his eyes.
Before much else can happen, you're interrupted by a "Hongjoong!" You both turn to see the birthday boy approaching with his arms out wide. Wooyoung wraps his arms around Hongjoong with a big smile on his face. "I was wondering when you'd get here!"
Wooyoung's interruption causes the two of you to push your desires aside and continue with the party as planned. You laugh, you dance, you talk with old and new friends. It's a perfect night. You keep close to Hongjoong for a lot of the night, but even when you aren't with him, you feel his eyes following you. You like the feeling, and you think you could quickly become addicted to it.
"Hey, I'm going to go get a drink. I'll be right back," you tell Hongjoong a bit later in the night. You make your way to the bar through all of the bodies in the room, and walk up to the first available spot you see. You're standing next to a tall man, and you can feel him looking at you as you wait for the bartender to finish their current drinks and make their way over.
"Some party you guys are having over there," he leans over and says to you. You finally look over at him; he's not unattractive, but you're not interested in him any. Why would you be when you have the perfect man for you just a few feet away?
"Tell me about it," you politely respond before turning back towards the bartender. You hope he catches the hint that you aren't interested, but he is a man, so you try not to get too hopeful.
"I'm Ji-won." You were right not to let your hopes get too high. You cut your eyes at him, thinking he looks too self-satisfied. You know you're an attractive woman, and you can't blame him for trying to put himself out there, but you can blame him for not taking a hint.
"[Y/N]," you return, once again turning away from him. Seeing that they finished the drink they were making before, you flag down the bartender and give them your order. As they start making it, you feel Ji-won's hand on your shoulder.
"That's a really pretty name. Very suiting for a pretty girl."
You maneuver your shoulder out of his grasp as you curtly respond, "Yeah." You don't even try to hide your attitude or sound thankful. The bartender returns with your drink, and as you pull your card out to pay, Ji-won cuts in.
"How about I cover that for you, baby?"
Just as you were gear up to tell him to 'fuck off', you feel a strong hand on your waist as a familiar voice says, "No need for that." You look up to see Hongjoong beside you now, one hand wrapped around your waist, staking his claim, while the other holds out his card to the bartender. "I'd appreciate it if you left my girl alone," Hongjoong says. His voice is mean, and his eyes are hard as stone as he looks at the man.
Without any argument, the man nods his head and walks away from his place at the bar. You return your gaze to Hongjoong, who's still adamant about keeping his hand on your waist. He looks pissed, and while you don't want him to be upset in any capacity, you can't deny how hot he looks like that.
"Don't worry, Joongie," you tease, grabbing his attention. "I wasn't looking at anyone else." He looks down at you, still with that pissed expression that makes your knees feel a little weak.
"I know. Doesn't stop other people from looking at you, though," he responds, now with a tiny pout on his lips. You don't understand how he can look so cute and so hot at the same time.
"Well, of course not. Look at who's on your arm," you joke confidently, briefly glancing down at his arm around your waist. To your comment, he rakes his eyes up and down your form.
"Don't I know it," he says with a smirk, tugging you in closer to him. The bartender returns with Hongjoong's card, and the two of you head back to your reserved corner.
Even though Wooyoung's party continues on the same, it's different for you now; Hongjoong never loosens the grasp on your waist. Your skin burns underneath the weight of his hand, and you feel the butterflies return to your stomach. You have to admit, you kind of like this jealous side of Hongjoong. You're certain that he trusts you, so you aren't bothered by this act of asserting you as 'his'. In fact, you like how proud he is to have you on his arm. He isn't ashamed to show you off like your previous partners were. His love and attraction for you isn't just quiet and intimate, but also loud and outward. You're convinced he would shout his love from the rooftops if you asked him to, and you're willing to bet he'd enjoy doing it as well.
You've been partying for hours at this point, and it doesn't look like the celebration will end any time soon. However, you're ready to just be alone with Hongjoong at this point. You yearn to finally tell him how you feel, to finally let him in and open yourself up to him completely.
Currently, the two of you stand in a group with Wooyoung and some more of his friends. Hongjoong's hand is still at home on your waist, and your back is pressed up against his chest. The close contact just makes you want to be alone with him even more. You turn in his hold to slightly face him, and successfully grab his attention. He leans his head down closer towards your lips so he can hear you over the loud music. "You ready to leave?" you ask him, happy when he nods his head yes.
He lets Wooyoung know the two of you are leaving while you go grab your jacket from the booth. Wooyoung gives you both a hug goodbye, and you catch him giving Hongjoong a silly expression, presumably about him leaving with you, to which you hear Hongjoong respond, "Oh, shut up!" You say your quick goodbyes to the people you've been talking with, and then the two of you make your way out of J. Wang Bar.
⋆.˚ ☾⭒.˚
The cold November air makes you shiver as you walk out of the bar, your stylish winter jacket and the little party dress underneath hardly enough to keep you warm. Seeing as Hongjoong still sneaks glances at you, you can't complain too much— it did its job well this evening.
You sigh out of your nose, looking towards the night sky as you walk in the direction to your apartments. "I don't want tonight to end just yet," you admit to Hongjoong.
He looks at you with a raised eyebrow. "No? Just didn't want to be at the party anymore?"
"No, it's not that. I just," you turn your head to look at him, "I just want to be alone with you." You can see a blush making its way onto Hongjoong's cheeks. You're sure that if you point it out to him, he'd pout and lie, saying it's from the cold air. You decide not to tease him about it this time; instead, you just admire how good it looks there. "Do you think we can take our time on our walk home? Maybe look at the stars a little bit on our way?"
He gives you a mesmerizing smile before responding, "Of course. We can do anything you want." You're starting to realize that he truly can't resist you or deny you anything you ask. You smile back at him and thank him. "You don't have to thank me for that."
As you approach a park near Hongjoong's apartment, you grab hold of his arm to keep him close and protect yourself from the cold night air. The park isn't like the one Hongjoong found before. It's smaller and much deeper in the city, but it's a nice place with visible stars. He leads you further away from the light posts towards a bench surrounded by trees. Even given the circumstances, he's still trying to find you the best spot.
When you sit down, you make sure your bodies are close. Your head leans against his as you look out at the stars, seeing Orion and the Little Dipper. Hongjoong listens intently as you point them out and tell him their names. The moment is so tender and romantic, it makes your heart swell.
"Thank you for indulging me with this. I know it's late and cold," you say, turning your head slightly against his so you can look at each other.
"Don't worry about it," he smiles sweetly at you. He gazes at you longingly for a moment longer before whispering, "How could I deny you anything?"
Your breath hitches, and you feel all the love you have for Hongjoong coursing through your body. You have never experienced love as pure, warm, and true as Hongjoong's; never experienced devotion or yearning such as his before. You love him desperately, and you need him in your life just as badly as he needs you.
"Hongjoong…" You sit up, facing him now, but remain just as close as before. Looking at you, his eyes are so clear and large. You could stare at them forever. "My heart… it's yours."
"[Y/N]…" Hongjoong mutters, his face incandescent and emotional, as if he never expected those words to come out of your mouth.
"It's true," you say, bringing your hand to the side of his face. "I'm in love with you. Deeply, desperately, wildly in love with you." He lays one hand on top of yours while the other travels to your cheek and situates at the base of your jaw. His touch is so soft and gentle.
"You love me too…" he states, voice overcome with fondness.
"Yes, I do. Most ardently." You lean your head closer into the warmth of his hand. "My heart is all yours and yours alone. Please," you whisper, "be gentle with it."
"Of course I will," he responds, inching closer to your face. Unable to help yourselves any longer, you both lean in and close your eyes, surrendering to a long-awaited kiss under the stars. His lips feel as though they've always belonged there. Your lips move together, conveying emotions far too deep to ever be verbally expressed.
Kissing one another quickly becomes addictive for both of you. The longer you kiss, the deeper and more passionate it becomes. Slowly but surely, the kiss morphs from something of adoration and devotion into something of longing, desire, and hunger. A moment of breathing allows you to slip your tongue into Hongjoong's mouth, deepening your kiss and intensifying your moment.
You pull back slightly, your lips still ghosting his. "How far is your place from here?" Your lips fall right back onto his immediately after asking.
"Only a couple of blocks," he replies before repeating your unresisting act.
You move you head to the side, allowing Hongjoong's lips to explore along your jaw. "Let's go," you breathe out. "I want you, Hongjoong. Please."
He pulls back to look at your face; there's nothing but love, yearning, and desire in your eyes. His expression matches yours exactly. He nods at your request and stands up, offering his hand out to you. "Me too. Let's go."
The walk back to Hongjoong's apartment is, in fact, short, but it feels like it's taking ages. It's a good thing not many people are out this late at night, because neither of you can keep your hands off of each other. Eagerness overtakes you both, and Hongjoong's apartment couldn't feel farther away.
Anticipation pools in your stomach as you approach his apartment and watch Hongjoong unlock the door. Immediately upon entry, Hongjoong backs you against the closing door and cages you in, resuming his siege on your mouth. Gone is the slow and impassioned kiss that this all began with; it's all fervent hunger now. It's sloppy, all hands, teeth, and hot breath. With his lips still attached to yours, Hongjoong begins toeing off his shoes. You try reaching down to unzip your boots, still engaged in his lips, but Hongjoong pulls away and stops you.
"Let me," he murmurs, moving his hands down to your hips and placing them there with a firm grip. Effortlessly, he sinks down on his knees, looking up at you through his long eyelashes as he removes your boots. He doesn't get up once he's done; instead his hands trace up your bare legs with his mouth close to follow. Maintaining eye contact, he kisses up your legs while his hands slowly make their way further up your body. His touch leaves a trail of goosebumps on your skin, and heat rises in your lower abdomen at the sight of him worshiping your body.
His hands push up your little dress towards your hips until your underwear is exposed. At this point, he's made his way up to the top of your left thigh, venerating it with open-mouthed kisses. He takes his eyes off yours and looks toward your clothed core. "One word from you and I'll stop," he says with lust and ardor in his gaze.
"Please, don't stop," you respond, neediness seeping through your voice. Almost instantaneously, his lips are on your clothed center, mouthing you and leaving you gasping from shock. Once he's had his fill, he moves further up, grabbing the waist hem of your panties with his teeth and tugs them down. Now that you're exposed, he drops them, letting them fall to your feet.
"You have no idea what you do to me," he groans as he repositions you so one of your legs is resting over his shoulder. He looked at the sight of you before him— open, wet, and eager for him— with dark, hungry eyes. Without much further build up, he dives in, licking up your entrance with the hunger of a starved man. He continues lapping at your folds, before making his way up to your clit, sucking on it and leaving you in a dizzying state.
Your hand reaches for his hair, tugging on it as the heat in your core intensifies. He keeps an unyielding pressure on your clit, going between sucking on it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue. He looks up at you as you roll your hips at his tongue's entrance within you. He groans at the feeling of you tightening around his tongue, the vibrations making their way through your core. As he feasts upon you, his nose brushes up against your swollen bud, causing you to shiver and moan.
He brings his tongue back to your swollen clit as he pumps two fingers inside of you. "God, Hongjoong," you whine out, throwing your head back against the door. You feel the knot in your stomach tightening as Hongjoong continues curling his fingers inside you, searching for that sensitive spot of yours.
Your legs feel weak and wobbly, unable to take much more of Hongjoong's stimulation while standing. He can feel you shaking, so he wraps his arm tighter around your ass, simultaneously steadying you and groping at your flesh. He continues to moan around your clit at the sensation of you clenching around his fingers, sending shockwaves through your nerves. His rhythm was unrelenting, and you knew you wouldn't be able to last much longer. His grip on your ass tightens, and he takes on more of your weight as he keeps on his attack. He alters the angle of his fingers, now hitting that tender spot inside of you that makes you see stars.
"Hongjoong, I'm close," you whimper out as your hand tightens its grasp on his hair. He keeps his unruly pace, sucking and moaning on your clit. Heat travels through your body as the wave of your climax washes over you, leaving you trembling in Hongjoong's grasp. He eases his feast on you and removes his fingers, now lightly licking up the remnants and leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses to your core.
He finally pulls away, moving your leg from his shoulder and licking his two fingers clean. Clearly, he's obsessed with the taste of you. He rises to his feet once again, and his eyes still burn with lust and primal desire. You're sure you look the same— it's certainly how you feel.
You take in his form, noticing the blatant hard-on in his pants. You hook a finger around the necklace adorning his throat and use it to pull him closer to you, back into a searing kiss. You taste yourself on his tongue, and you know you need more of him.
Hongjoong leads your stumbling bodies through his apartment and into his bedroom. He only has time to turn on one of his lamps before your hands and lips are back on him. Hungry for more, you begin undressing him as much as you can without removing your lips from his body. You unbutton and tug at his pants, reaching your unsatisfied hands under his shirt. The singular lamp and soft moonlight coming through the window provide enough light to fully see each other's forms.
Eventually, you break apart, too desperate to keep your clothes on any longer. Hongjoong removes his jacket and shirt in two swift motions before he reaches his arms behind you to unzip your dress and let it fall to the floor, leaving you now completely naked and exposed to him. He drinks in the sight of you; his expression conveying complete and utter devotion. "God, you're so beautiful," he says to you, almost as if you are a goddess in front of him that he's praying to.
You lean back against his bed, and before you know it, his pants are off, and he's climbing on top of you. One hand lands on your breast, rolling and teasing your nipple between his fingers. The other makes itself home on your ass again, grabbing as much of the flesh as possible. All the while, his mouth goes back to your neck, leaving bites down to your collarbones to mark you as his. Your hands travel across his body, leaving a few scratches on his back before reaching for his ample chest. You lean your head up, as well, and leave a couple of love bites of your own at the base of his neck.
He pulls back, removing his underwear and grabbing a condom, ready for more. As he gets ready to position himself, he stills.
"Hongjoong?" you question, desire overtaking your tone.
"Let me admire you for a moment," he says with a genuine smile, gazing at you as if he's memorizing every curve. You feel your cheeks warm, and shyness creeps up on you. Despite your slight bashfulness, you take this moment to gaze upon Hongjoong as well. The man of your dreams above you in all of his grandeur.
Hongjoong lines up the head of his cock with your entrance, teasing it up and down between your folds.
"Hongjoong, please," you whine, unable to take much more of his teasing. "I need you now."
"Alright, alright," he concedes with a sweet smile, beginning to push himself in. "Anything for my girl." He slips in with ease due to how wet you are, and he grabs your hand in his as he bottoms out. You both moan at the sensation. "I love you," he whispers to you, letting you get used to the stretch before moving.
"And I love you," you whisper back. He starts moving out slowly, pulling himself back until only his head is left inside you before snapping his hips and filling you with his length once more. The pace starts slow and passionate, but still searing and unrelenting. You meet his thrusts with as much strength as you can muster, wanting him as deep in you as possible. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder once again, positioning himself even deeper inside of your velvet walls and allowing him to hit every tender spot within you. The sound of skin slapping against skin and your combined whimpers and moans sound lewd and vulgar, but the look on Hongjoong's face above you is nothing short of ethereal.
"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his pace quickening. Each thrust becomes harsher than the last, and your walls continue to tighten and clench around him, sucking him in with every move.
"Hongjoong, I'm getting close- ah fuck!" you cry out. Your back arches from his cock filling you up, and your head crashes onto the pillow from your overwhelming pleasure. Keeping his merciless pace, he licks his thumb and brings it down to your sensitive clit, stimulating it and maintaining a firm pressure against it. You feel heat coil in your stomach as your release rapidly approaches.
"Cum for me, baby," he mutters— his voice pushing you over the edge. You cry out his name in ecstasy as your walls spasm around his cock, and your legs quiver around his form. His thrusts become more sporadic and desperate as your walls tighten, signifying he isn't far behind and aches for his own release.
"Hongjoong, cum for me, please," you request, reaching your hand up to his cheek. Not even a second later, he releases inside the rubber, twitching with pleasure between your walls. His cock throbs inside of you, and you feel every pulse of his hot release.
Hongjoong collapses on top of you,holding you close and burying his head in your neck as you both recover from your orgasms with heavy breaths.
"I told you," he says after a moment of catching his breath. You turn your head to the side to get a better look at him: he looks at you with nothing but love and adoration in his gaze. "I can't deny you anything you ask of me." You giggle at words, but you know that earnestness is behind them.
Slowly Hongjoong pulls out of you, leaving you empty. "Stay right here," he utters, his tone endearing. He gets up and quickly cleans himself off in the bathroom before returning with a warm washcloth that he uses to clean you up. He's gentle— knowing how sensitive you still are— but efficient.
After cleaning you up, he lies down on the bed with you, taking you into his arms and holding you close. There's no place in the entire world you would rather be than in his arms.
"My girl… My star…" he mutters, his lips pressing against your temple. You look up at him, hoping your gaze says all of the emotions you can't voice. He leans down and cathces your lips in another kiss, as if making up for all of the lost time as soon as possible.
The two of you lie there, engulfed in each other, and you wouldn't have it any other way. You kiss with the thought of it never getting old, and hold one another with the promise that you will do so for the rest of time. The moonlight shines through the window as you indulge in each other's love. The stars peek in through the window, watching and smiling upon your young love. They twinkle at you through that window and listen to the sweet nothings and the promises you both make to each other with great interest. It's partly because of them, after all, that the two of you are where you are now.
"I'm completely yours, Hongjoong. I'm yours for as long as you'll have me."
"I plan on keeping you by my side and cherishing you forever."
Pairing: Yunho x Fem!Student!Reader
Genre: Smut - dark twist
Requested: Yes/No
w.c. 5.8k
Warnings: heavy on the smut, semi public sex (ish), mutual pining, food? - THE SUCKER - he does...things with it. Yunho is a FREAK. Reader is desperate for yunho dick (yes YOU, reader)
Spoiler warnings are in comments if you need them.
A/N: So, this is sort of two requests in one, however I don't want to disappoint anyone so I'll post it solo. I hope it's okay! <3 god deleted my ticket to heaven with this one.
Requests: Open (link below)
Taglist: @baby-stay92
If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please DM me or click here.
You release a tired sigh and rub your eyes, throwing your pen down. It bounces off of your ridiculously thick textbook and lands on the papers scattered around your study partner.
“Ah ah. No crashing yet, we’ve got three more chapters,” Yunho says with a laugh, tapping you on the end of the nose with his own pen. You pout, making a face at him before dramatically collapsing on the table.
“I give up. You can become a lawyer, I’ll go back to making sandwiches,” you groan, muffled against pages of your future.
“I thought you liked working at the sandwich shop?”
“I did,” you reply, tilting your head to look at him. “But sandwich shops don’t pay me six figures.”
“Then stop whining,” Yunho shrugs. You grumble words unintelligible even to yourself and sit up, fixing your hair. You stretched, yawned, checked your phone for the thousandth time that evening. Finals were next week. Then there was the Bar exam. You were so close to being y/n l/n, attorney at law…but you were beginning to feel nauseous at the mere sight of words on a page.
“Wanna take a break?” Yunho suggests, leaning back to stretch. You avoid looking at the way his sweater rides up, revealing inches of what appears to be a toned belly.
“No,” you mumble, forcing yourself to look away. “If I leave this library…I think I may never return.”
Yunho chuckles and nods, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index fingers. For a few minutes, you both just sit there, enjoying a rare moment of peace. Usually the library is filled with students, exactly like you—stressed, depressed, drowning in student debt and reading assignments.
“Yunho?” you mumble. He hums a response, looking over at you. You swallow. “If I start to cry, will you judge me?”
“Not at all,” he responds. You nod once, feeling tears burning in your eyes.
For the next hour or so, you take turns reading passages and summarizing them, going through various laws and statutes that you could barely comprehend. Your brain felt as if it might explode, and you considered calling it a night, but it was only 10 p.m. and you’d be damned if you gave out before midnight.
“What the hell are these ‘title 16 provisions?’” you scoff, crinkling your nose. “Were these even part of our assignment?”
“Let me see,” Yunho says. He scoots his chair over to your side of the table rather than just moving seats, and you feel your heart leap into your throat. And god, his arm slides over the back of your chair as he leans in to look at the tiny words on your page.
He smells like coffee and the peanut butter granola bar you shared earlier, and this close you can see that he has very light freckles on his cheeks. You kind of want him to never move.
“Ah, no this isn’t part of this assignment but we will have to know it for finals,” he says, words going in one of your ears and out the other. He begins talking about these provisions, but you must be numb to all forms of communication other than Jeong Yunho’s body heat.
“Y/n?”
“Huh?” you mumble, shaking your head. Yunho has a funny look on his face, one brow raised. Oh god. Oh god. He caught you staring like a fucking creep.
“...You good?” he chuckles. You swallow and quickly nod, brushing your hair back so fast you nearly hit him in the face.
“Yep, uh huh,” you mumble. “I’m fine. Just tired.”
“Oh,” he says as though relieved. “Good. Well, if you need to take a break, let me know.”
He begins to move; you panic and grab his wrist.
“Wait! You didn’t explain this part to me,” you say, pointing at a random section on the page. Yunho sits down again and tilts his head.
“You need me to explain…marital property to you?” he asks, sounding both amused and disbelieving.
Well, if you’re gonna be a bad liar, at least you’ll be persistent.
“Yes,” you nod. “Just like a refresher, you know? My brain is cooked.”
Yunho stares at you for a few seconds, and you feel your cheeks heat up. It feels like he knows something you don’t know, and you don’t like that. So you yank him back into his seat and let go of his wrist, pretending to be very interested in one of the most basic aspects of your degree.
Marital property is boring, even when the hottest guy in your class is explaining it to you. And what’s worse—he knows. You know he knows. He’s explaining basic concepts to you, and then explaining the basics of those basic concepts, all the while keeping a little smirk on his handsome face. You consider caving, thinking of any possible excuse for your behavior. You’re delirious from lack of sleep, that’s actually true. But you were too deep in this to give up now.
“That’s most of it,” Yunho finally says, long fingers splayed over the textbook. They nearly reach from one end of the open book to the other. You shiver. “I guess we should move into parental rights—”
“Yunho,” you begin with a sigh, ready to admit defeat. He smiles innocently, resting his chin in his hand.
“Yeah?”
“I—”
You freeze, having forgotten how to form sentences. Yunho’s still smiling at you, but his free hand is now resting on your thigh. You thanked the gods you’d decided to wear a skirt today.
His palm is large, warm, spanning much of the plush skin there. He’s not gripping it, but it’s still very obviously intentional. You feel your cheeks burn hot; you’re determined to remain unaffected.
“Nevermind,” you mumble. He chuckles and turns back to the page, though he doesn’t move his hand.
You don’t ask him to.
You go back to your respective chapters, thankfully far beyond the basics, but his hand stays right where it is. He even reaches over his other arm to sip his coffee, refusing to move it. Your skin burns in the shape of his fingers; you almost want to push him away simply because your body is reacting to his touch in a way that’s making you feel crazy. You’re practically feverish, just because he’s near you. Pathetic, honestly.
When you sigh and rub your eyes, those long fingers twitch, making you jump. You try to play it off, though you know he’s aware of your reaction, because he does it again. When you don’t react as dramatically, he squeezes gently.
Your knee jerks up so fast it hits the table, causing your belongings to rattle, and your heart feels like it’s going to explode. Yunho chuckles, though doesn’t move his hand. You clear your throat as though everything is normal. As though he’s not currently squeezing your upper thigh.
“Yunho,” you say quietly.
“Hm?” He doesn't bother looking up from his textbook.
“What are we doing?”
He does look up this time.
“Studying,” he says, giving you a sweet smile. You narrow your eyes.
If he was going to do this, then so were you. You were sleep deprived, numb to the world, and horny as hell. So you parted your knees.
Not much, just an inch or so, but very obvious. You didn’t miss the way Yunho’s throat worked as he swallowed, clearly not expecting the reciprocation. You go back to your textbook, but your victory is short lived, however, as his large hand slides further inward.
You’re flustered. But you’re also stubborn. So you drop your pen and look him in the eyes as you open your knees. Yunho’s gaze is steady as he slowly moves his hand, as though expecting you to stop him. You don’t.
Yunho went back to reading and you did the same, just as his pinky brushed the crease of your inner thigh. You knew you were wet, knew he could probably feel the moist heat radiating from your body behind your pink panties, but you chose to be nonchalant. Until he rubbed the back of his knuckle against your panties, over your clit.
The soft moan that escapes you is mortifying.
Yunho quickly clamps a hand over your mouth, laughing breathily as your brows pull together and you shudder. He looks as shocked as you are, though now you’re hazy, focused only on how good it felt, and wanting more.
“Shh,” he chuckles nervously, glancing around despite the fact that you’re the only ones here. “No wonder you act like you’re walking around on thin ice. You’re frustrated as hell, huh?”
“P-Please,” you whimper pitifully against his palm, though it’s muffled. He moves his hand and you grip his wrist, looking up at him. You silently communicate your needs, praying he has mercy and doesn’t force you to say it out loud. Yunho glances around one more time, licking his lips before looking down at you like a fucking steak on a platter.
“If we’re gonna do this, you gotta be quiet for me,” he murmurs. You nod quickly, gasping when he effortlessly yanks your chair closer to him. He adjusts his glasses before lowering his hand to your thighs, gently stroking them.
“Can I touch you?” he asks quietly. You open your mouth, but he presses a finger to your lips. “Quietly.”
“Yes, yes,” you whine. “T-Touch me.”
Yunho bites his lower lip, as though imagining doing much, much more than that. When he rubs your thighs again, your knees fall open and you stifle a moan behind your sleeves. Yunho smiles at the sight of you, slipping his hand between your legs again.
This time, he’s more careful, though it’s much more frustrating for you. You squirm when he strokes either side of your cunt, making a ‘v’ and squeezing your plush pussy lips between them. You moan again, loudly, and Yunho scrambles to cover your mouth.
“Baby, you’ve gotta be—”
“Quiet, I know,” you pout, gripping his wrist. “C-can’t help it…feels good.”
Yunho swallows, letting his fingers brush against you again. You manage to stay quiet this time, but your mouth opens in a silent scream.
“So fucking sensitive,” he murmurs, drawing his hand back. You nearly protest, but he presses his index finger to your clit like a button and you jolt, covering your mouth just in time. Yunho smirks.
“H-Haven’t had sex,” you say, fisting the sleeve of his sweater as he pushes again. “In m-months.”
“Why?” he asks, beginning to rub slow circles against your panties. You feel your wetness spreading beneath them, but you don’t care. You grip the edge of the table and swallow.
“Busy,” you breathe, licking your lips. Yunho’s eyes follow your tongue. You don’t notice.
“Can I kiss you?”
“Y-yeah, yes,” you nod frantically.
Yunho uses the hand between your legs to turn your entire body toward him. You want to mention how attractive that is, but he’s leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours.
His kiss is nothing like his touch; there’s nothing dirty or hurried about it. His nose brushes the crease of yours as he tilts your heads to the side, his free hand moving up to cup your cheek. It’s a sweet kiss that makes no sense when his fingers are currently resting against your panties beneath your skirt.
He seems to have forgotten what he was doing amidst your soft kisses, as you break away from his lips to impatiently bounce and whine. Yunho smirks and begins rubbing his middle finger directly over your clit, applying very little pressure. He kisses you again, and you throw your arms around his neck, trying to push your body into his. His knee prevents you from doing so.
“Nng…what are you doing?” you whine, fisting his sweater. “Wanna…wanna be in your lap.”
Your own admission makes your cheeks flush red, but you don’t care. You’re horny and your crush’s hand is between your thighs.
“Not yet, baby,” he mumbles, stealing another lazy kiss. “Wanna keep you like this. I like how desperate you are.”
“I…I’m not desperate,” you mumble. Yunho bites his lower lip and applies more pressure to your clit, you buck your hips and grip his sleeve. He’s laughing, but you don’t care, aching for more of him.
“Desperate,” he hums, pulling you in for another kiss. You don’t understand his obsession with kissing you; wasn’t he as horny as you were? But you kissed him back anyway, because you’ve had a crush on this guy since your freshman year and even the slut hormones clouding your brain couldn’t block that much out. He was a damn good kisser too, taking the lead and hardly giving you time to breathe.
In contrast to his soft mouth, Yunho’s index finger hooks your soaked panties, tugging them to the side. His finger brushes your bare cunt, though he knowingly silences your moans with a kiss.
“What can I do?” he asks once you finally break apart. You’re unwilling to let him go, however, pulling his lips back to yours..
“Don’t care,” you mumble between kisses, body buzzing with need. “Whatever you want.”
“Can I go in here?”
He prods at the needy hole between your folds and you fucking purr, clutching his sweater and pulling him close with a whine.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” he laughs. He waits for you to eagerly nod, then brings his fingers to your mouth and taps your lips. “Open.”
You do as he says and he slips his fingers inside. You nearly moan around them as you instinctively suck and lick his digits; they’re long and thick, two of them practically as big as a few hookups you’ve had in the past. Yunho watches, pupils wide as you act like an obedient doll a little too eager to be fingered in a library at midnight.
When he pulls his fingers out, they’re slick and shiny with your drool, and you see him suck in air. You blush, a little embarrassed at how thorough of a job you’ve done. You expect Yunho to go beneath your skirt, but he slides his wet fingers in his mouth, eyes never leaving yours.
It’s the filthiest thing you’ve ever seen, next to the look of pure bliss in his eyes as he sucks your saliva off of his fingers and replaces it with his own. You decide then that you do not want him to finger you.
“Fuck me,” you blurt out.
You barely register what you’ve said, but you’re damn near ready to jump his bones. Yunho blinks in surprise, obviously not having expected that. He pulls his fingers out of his mouth.
“Really?” he asks. He sounds surprised for reasons you don’t understand, but you nod.
“Yeah,” you say, pulling him in for another kiss. “Want you inside me. All of you.”
“Fuck,” Yunho groans. He grabs your face in his hands and kisses you back, harder. Your hands are shaky as they go for his jeans, but then he freezes like you’ve just slapped him.
“What?” you ask, breaking the kiss. Yunho curses and rubs his face with both hands, tilting back in his chair. “What is it, yu?”
“I don’t…fuck. I don’t have a condom.”
He runs a hand through his hair like this is the biggest mistake of the century. You bite your lower lip—the idea of leaving tonight and not getting fucked by him makes you genuinely want to cry.
“We could…you know?” you mumble, face hot. “I mean, I-I’m clean. Obviously, haven’t had sex in god knows when—”
“No,” Yunho says, shaking his head. “I don’t trust myself.”
“Don’t trust yourself to what?” you frown. Yunho looks at you,
“There’s no way I’m gonna be able to make myself pull out once I’m in you,” he murmurs. “We need a condom.”
You swallow. You really shouldn’t push; but you need to hear more.
“How do you know?” you breathe, licking your lips.
“C’mere.”
“What?”
Yunho reaches over, grabbing your wrist. He pulls you into his lap and you gasp, able to feel the rigid line of his cock beneath you. But he grabs your face and pulls you in for a kiss again.
“I’ve been thinking about you for so long,” he hums, and you mewl in response, grinding down against him. He kisses you again to stifle what was no doubt a moan.
“Y-Yeah?” you manage to squeak out. Yunho nods.
“Yeah. Not gonna be able to pull out if I’m balls deep in that little cunt with you fucking crying for it like this.”
Fuck. You needed him. To be honest, with or without the condom, but if he felt it was necessary.
“Let’s go get one,” you mumble dizzily. “A c-condom. There’s a convenience store down the street.”
Yunho frowns, looking at the clock on the wall.
“The library will be locked, won’t it? Don’t we have to lock up?”
You lean back in his lap, smiling.
“Yes. But I’ve got a key,” you chime.
The moment you stepped into the store, you immediately regretted it and felt all the horny escape you. Not really, but it was embarrassing as hell, and painfully obvious as to what you were doing here. Yunho didn’t seem to mind, his hand tightly clasping yours as he guided you toward the back.
You had a little trouble finding the condoms—it made you inexplicably happy when Yunho suggested asking the clerk as he didn’t know either, even though your answer was a firm NO—but eventually found the rack next to the sex pills and cold sore cream.
Hot.
Yunho squints, and you cross your arms impatiently. You grab a box and shake it.
“It’s not a shoe store, here,” you mumble, pushing the box into his hand. Yunho glances over the label and smirks, tossing it back on the shelf. You want to ask what the hell is so funny when you’re so fucking wet your panties are sticking to your thighs, but then he finally makes a choice and puts the box in your hands. Oh.
Oh.
XXL. Makes sense.
You make him grab a few more things as though that makes the purchase less shameful. When you go to check out, you look everywhere but at the clerk—until he has the audacity to speak to the man holding your hand, very obviously purchasing condoms so the two of you can go fuck in a library.
“Finals week?” the guy says. Yunho slides his card across the counter and squeezes your hand.
“Finals week,” he nods.
“I just realized we could’ve gone to my apartment,” you say, unlocking the library door. Yunho leaned against the wall, unwrapping the candy he’d apparently decided on last minute. A red round sucker. “It’s only a few minutes away.”
You’d been given a key to the library your second year here, as you were a trusted student who often pulled all nighters—and you lived in the shitty part of campus where the power often went out. You were aware this was a total abuse of that power, but you figured if you showed Yunho to Ms. Lin, she’d understand.
“Yeah, well, my fantasies during puberty weren’t at apartments,” Yunho shrugs, holding the door for you. You head inside and find your table, where you drop the bag of your purchased items. Yunho grabs it, immediately fishing out the box.
“Very boy of you,” you scoff, rolling your eyes. “Let me guess, the hot librarian offers to help you find your dick? Is that part of the dewey decimal system?”
Yunho smiles. “Can we get back to you whining for me to fuck you? I liked that.”
“I was not—”
Your freakishly tall study partner grabs your wrist, tugging you against him. You swallow and look up, lips parted at the sudden contact.
“Not what?” he asks. You blink, but something is suddenly pushing at your lips. You open dumbly, feeling too obedient as you take whatever he’s putting in your mouth apparently. The taste of artificial cherry makes you grimace.
Yunho backs you up to the table, crowding you against it. He cups your face in his hands and kisses your cheek, thumbs brushing below your ears. You realize you’ve been staring at him wordlessly, sucker in your mouth.
“How’s it taste?” he asks.
“Good,” you mumble. It doesn’t taste good, you hate cherry, but if Jeong Yunho puts something in your mouth, you love it, you decide. Cherry is your new favorite flavor.
“I doubted if they sold gags, so,” he chuckles. “This’ll do.”
You frown, but he takes the stick of the sucker before you can respond.
“Open,” he says. You open.
You see his eyes twinkle, almost like he can’t believe how well you’re listening to him. If only he knew you’d do anything he asked.
Rather than pull it out, Yunho rubs the sucker around your mouth. He coats your tongue with the sticky flavor, then the inside of your cheek. By the time he pulls it out, you don’t realize you’re drooling, mouth open for him.
He pops the sucker in his own mouth, just like his fingers, and you shudder. Then he’s slipping his hands beneath your skirt, pushing your panties down your thighs.
“What are you doing?” you ask softly, more curious than concerned. Yunho takes the sucker out and kisses your cheek, then your lips. You can taste it on his tongue, just like yours.
Something sticky and wet prods at your clit and you gasp, but Yunho wraps an arm around your waist and keeps you from pulling away. You squeak helplessly in shock, caught between mind numbing bliss and disbelief. He’s rubbing the bulbous head of the sucker against your clit.
“Shh…figure it’s too risky to eat you out properly,” he hums in your ear, crushing you to his chest. You squirm, though not out of discomfort.
You have no idea how to react, hands gripping his sweater as he holds you in place. The candy feels warm and sticky, sliding through your cunt juices as he teases you with it.
“I wasn’t going to,” he says, voice strained as though he’s doing all he can to hold back. “But I saw it and…well fuck, baby, if I’m honest, I just wanted to see if you were desperate enough to try and fuck yourself on a piece of candy.”
You whine and bury your head against his shoulder, because you fucking are. You are desperate enough to try, because he slides the candy between your lips and you jolt when it brushes your hole.
“F-Fuck, Yunho,” you gasp, nails digging into fabric. You hear him laugh, and it sounds so fucking cocky, like he knew you’d end up like this, but you can’t bring yourself to care as you work yourself to ruin on a piece of candy.
He slides it beneath the hood of your clit, twisting the stick in his fingers. Your knees buckle, but he’s gripping you tight. He works it like a toy, rubbing up and down, focusing on your clit until you’re nearly there before he moves it again. It didn’t feel this big when it was in your mouth, but you’ve never wanted something inside you so bad.
“Oh my god,” you moan, thighs clamping together. It doesn’t stop his hand, or the candy, the rounded tip pushing against your hole. He starts rolling it again, and you gasp as you feel yourself snapping inside, the hot neediness spilling over the edges. You try to warn him, but only manage to squeak.
“Are you…are you cumming on a fucking lollipop?” Yunho asks, voice filled with awe. You nod.
Your ears ring, your vision blurs, and you feel something pushing against your mouth. It’s Yunho’s hand you realize, but you can’t stop, can’t stop shaking and screaming and there’s something wet on your cheeks.
You haven’t had a proper orgasm in months, maybe even a year, and were it not for Yunho holding you up, you’re pretty damn sure you would’ve fainted.
When you open your eyes, Yunho is laughing quietly and hugging you tight, rubbing your back.
“Fuck, are you okay?” he asks, sounding concerned and impressed. You sniff and nod, using the back of your hand to wipe your cheeks. Yunho cups your face and uses his thumbs to clean you up. You were crying.
“I’m sorry, jesus, I didn’t think it was that bad,” he says sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. You realize then that the damn sucker is in his mouth.
You whine, yanking him forward until you’re kissing him. It’s clumsy, but he takes the sucker out and tosses it on the table behind you. You begin working desperately at his jeans, and hear him release a cherry flavored groan.
“Still gonna let me fuck you?” he asks, keeping his lips against yours.
“God yes,” you say in a shaky voice. “P-Please.”
“I can do that,” Yunho breathes. He places a large hand on the softness of your belly, gently pushing you back.
Yunho towers over you, one hand moving to cup your thigh and open you up so he can stand between them. The other goes to his jeans, and you find yourself biting your lip and digging your nails into your palms.
XXL?
“Since you look like you’re about to fucking eat me,” Yunho says with a laugh, “why don’t you do it? Hm? When’s the last time you put a condom on?”
You feel yourself blush at having been caught, but sit up to snatch the box near you.
“Asshole,” you mutter, refusing to give him a proper answer.
Your hands are too shaky to open the box, so you end up ripping it down the side, condoms spilling out. You sigh anyway and grab one, slipping the foil packet between your teeth. You move your hands to his jeans, and realize that for the first time…you’re nervous.
Until now your brain had been sex focused; it still was, but your post orgasm clarity made you realize how fucking desperate you looked. You roughly popped open the button of his jeans.
Yunho was so damn tall that his hips were practically level with your face whilst you were on the short table. This meant that, as soon as you’d tugged his boxers down, you suddenly found yourself face to face with the biggest cock you’ve ever seen.
XXL.
For a moment you were too dumbstruck—why did they bother sculpting the soft dicks when the hard ones could look like…this? All veins and smooth skin and a pink mushroom head that looked perfectly designed for…use. You wanted it in your mouth. But he hadn’t technically put his mouth on you, and you were both in a library, and right now you were starting to get a little shaky at the idea of this thing going anywhere near your neglected pussy, so you swallowed your resolve and took the condom from between your teeth.
Yunho watched as you struggled to tear open the packet, biting your lower lip in frustration. You finally got it open, sighing as you placed the rubber at the tip. He grabbed your hands then, and you paused. Shit. Were you doing this wrong?
“We don’t have to do anything,” he mumbles softly, cupping your chin. “You wanna stop right now? We stop. Not trying to ruin the mood, just want you to know it’s okay.”
You shake your head.
“I’m okay, thanks,” you say quietly. “It’s just…fuck, Yunho.”
He laughs, his little ego having returned just a bit, you wanted to roll your eyes and kiss him at the same time. He bites his lower lip and strokes his thumb over yours.
“I’ll be gentle,” he hums. “You can take it for me.”
Fuck. Yes, you absolutely can.
Yunho guides you onto your back, though you settle on your elbows, propped up for him. You watch as he squeezes the rest of the lube from the packet onto his cock, giving a few tugs before nodding at you. You weren’t sure if you were excited or scared, but there were two heartbeats and one was between your legs.
He pushes your legs apart and guides his cock forward. You lick your lips and let your knees fall open, bunching your skirt around your waist, offering yourself to him. Yunho sucks in air through his teeth and curses.
“So fucking pretty,” he hums, supporting his weight on one palm as he brushes his cock against you. You shiver as the cold lube is smeared around your sensitive cunt. “Knew it from the day I saw you freshman year in a skirt just like this one. Thought I was gonna die when you smiled at me.”
“I didn’t know you remembered,” you mumbled. You were so nervous your first day, which wasn’t helped by the hot guy who approached you and asked if you were lost. Apparently you could stop feeling ashamed for having mind fucked him back then.
“Of course I do,” Yunho chuckles, teasing the head of his cock up and down your slit. “So cute, how you blushed when I talked to you. You still do that, you know.”
“Shut up,” you mutter. Yunho laughs, then licks his lips.
“Gonna put it in now. Tell me if it’s too much,” he says. You nod.
The swollen head of his cock catches on your hole, and Yunho uses his weight to lean forward and urge himself inside. It aches a bit, not just from the size but fuck it’s been so long since you’ve had something more than your own fingers in you. Your thoughts go from not so bad to okay damn to holy fuck there’s more? Because he keeps pushing and you keep taking, and you feel every inch of him filling your insides while his body offers more.
“Fuck, baby. Fuck,” Yunho whines, still gripping the base of his cock as he guides it into you. Your head falls back and you curse at nothing; his cock is somehow too big but perfectly sized at the same time and you’ve never felt so god damn full. “Look at you, that needy little cunt is swallowing me babygirl. Keep fucking taking it.”
His words make you dizzy, and you whine when he’s finally fully seated. You feel heavy, pinned to the table, as though you can’t move. You reach down and feel the rigid sides of his cock, shocked to feel just how much is inside you.
“How’s that, beautiful?” Yunho asks. He places both palms on the table, either side of your body, and you tense. If he started thrusting, it would fuck you up.
“Good,” you say, nodding. “Big, but good.”
“Knew you could take it. 'm gonna fuck you now. Stop me if you need to," he murmurs. You can take it.
"I can take it," you nod. He smiles, kissing you once, then twice.
You squeak as Yunho begins fucking you properly, ploughing into you hard and fast, moving with need and instinct rather than reason.
The table shakes with his heavy thrusts, pistoning into you so hard it makes you dizzy. You’re surprised you can take him like this, able to feel every inch of him when he’s seated inside, pressing deliciously on your walls.
Yunho ruts into you like an animal, unfortunately one with a very big cock as he struggles to keep every inch buried inside you. He wasn’t lying about not pulling out, as he refused to do so even when thrusting. You had no room to breathe, no chance for air, as he fucked into you repeatedly while trying to go deeper.
You’re at a loss for words, lips parted, eyes following his expression and movements. He’s desperate in his own way, obviously holding back, though you don’t know from what. You consider encouraging him to let go—until he groans loudly and snaps his hips, stealing the breath from your lungs.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, baby. So fucking…need you to hold still for me and take it,” he breathes. "Hold still. A-Almost done, fuck, keep taking it so good for me."
You do as he asks without question, clinging to his shoulders, nose to nose with Jeong Yunho as he forces his cock as far as it can go in your body and begins to pump a thin condom full of cum that should be you.
Yunho takes a few moments to breathe, arms shaking where he holds himself up on the table. You run a hand through his damp hair, watching as he moans softly and leans into your touch.
“You okay?” you giggle. He nods, tilting his head to kiss your palm.
“Just…You’re so fucking perfect. Want more of you if you’ll let me, wanna make you feel good every day," he says.
You blink at the surprising tenderness of his words, feeling they were more than sex related. You wanted to ask questions, but right now, you were both sticky with sweat and fucked out on a library table that would need to be wiped down with holy water.
You separated, which left you shuddering from the sudden cold emptiness inside of you. Yunho exhaled sharply, waiting a few moments before removing the condom and tying it off.
You both cleaned up and fixed your clothes as best you could—though you stuffed your panties in your bag because the sticky wetness was a little much.
“Do you want to come over?” you ask, making sure your skirt is covering your ass. “You know. To clean up.”
Yunho smiles, which makes you smile, and then you’re blushing and cursing at yourself. He nods and brushes your cheek with his knuckle.
“Sounds good,” he hums. You beam and gesture for him to follow you. Yunho watches as you collect your things with shaky legs, smiling to himself.
You were so damn pretty. Intelligent. He’d noticed right away that you were someone he was going to want.
He grabbed his own bag and walked past the table, pausing as he stepped on something.
The sucker.
You crinkle your nose when you notice it, too.
“Guess we need to throw that away,” you mumble. He nods, bending down and picking it up. He holds it in his hand for a few seconds.
What a good idea it had been.
He slips it into his pocket, for the memories.
Memories like, your name. Your favorite color. That skirt you wore on your first day. Apartment 2B, where you lived. You like the right side of the bed, don’t you? Yunho likes the left side.
The last man you slept with—11 months, 1 week, and 4 days ago.
Yunho hated that one.
You had waffles for breakfast this morning. You usually have oatmeal. You sleep with a nightlight on.
You’re afraid of the dark.
“You coming?” you ask with a shy smile, pausing at the door. Yunho looks up. You didn’t see him slip the sucker in his pocket. You never notice things like that.
“Yeah,” he says. He follows you out the door and waits for you to lock up. Then, without thinking too much of it, he takes your hand. You don’t pull away. Your hand is small compared to his, and he squeezes it. You squeeze back.
You like hot showers.
You sound so pretty when you moan, especially when you think you’re alone.
title: come touch the line
pairing: jeong yunho x fem!reader
genre: neighbors to lovers, neighbors au, smut (mdni!!)
word count: 23.3k
summary: your next-door neighbor is both incredibly insufferable and insanely hot.
author's note: really desperately needed to write brat tamer yunho, so here he is! i hope you enjoy. you can find this fic on ao3 here! also I will never not hate making graphics/making these posts cute so I hope u can tolerate that dkfgjskjfs ily guys so much thanks for reading <3
tags/warnings: brat tamer yunho, reader is a menace, reader is a brat, vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, blow jobs, teasing, general brat/brat tamer dynamic, begging, dirty talk, safe sex (I did it!), multiple orgasms, face-fucking, yunho does the tongue thing, best friends jihyo & wooyoung, hongjoong mentioned
The moment your eyes flew open, it was to the sound of video games and swearing. Unfortunately, from learned experience, there was no waiting this out. No staying in bed until the problem eventually removed itself. This problem loved to overstay its welcome, loved to take a seat on your couch until it rotted there.
You lay in bed for as long as you could stand the background noise. You tried to fall back asleep, but the sounds of intermittent fucks and sporadic yelling made it entirely impossible.
When you did finally drag yourself out of bed, still half asleep and grumbling to yourself about the inconvenience, it was in baggy sweatpants and a loose-fitting shirt, your hair tied up into a bun.
Creaking open the door to your bedroom, you watched him momentarily. He didn’t notice the disturbance, just remained locked into the game, lighting up bright colors and explosions on your television.
Your fingers easily found the spot they always managed to settle on your face when he was around, pinching the bridge of your nose in stress.
One of your mugs sat on the coffee table in front of him, filled to the brim. You ignored the problem at hand, the man intruding on your living room before noon without your permission, for the second, or maybe third time that week, and walked toward the coffee maker instead.
He didn’t acknowledge you as you passed, his eyes instead remaining laser-focused on the screen. You didn’t speak either, hoping that maybe if you continued to ignore him, he’d go away. Though, based on past encounters, it never really worked out that way. Though a girl could dream.
Pulling down a mug from the cabinet, you attempted to place it carefully on the counter before you, tempering your anger. It didn’t matter anyway, even if you slammed the thing down so hard it shattered into pieces, he still probably wouldn’t have looked up.
It was when you reached out for the coffee pot, hand just barely touching the handle, that the anger bubbled over.
You whipped around, coffee pot in hand, face screwed up into a scowl that only Jeong Yunho could produce. “Are you serious?” you asked, raising the coffee pot above your head, directing that scowl in his direction—not that he even looked up to see it.
He was too locked into whatever video game he busied himself playing on your PlayStation. It drove you over the edge, how little regard he had for you. How he used your apartment like a landing ground, a place to escape—and then dared to ignore you while inside it.
You walked around the counter, coffee pot still in hand, and stopped in front of the television with your arms outstretched. “Earth to fucking Yunho—what are you doing here?”
You knew the answer before you asked, knew why he was there based on the sheer lack of sleep you’d gotten during the night.
He shifted to the side in an attempt to see the screen behind you, but you moved with him, waving your arms to get in the way as much as possible. Finally, with a groan and a roll of his eyes—like you were inconveniencing him—he set down the controller.
With his attention free, he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. His legs were spread, and he took up way more space than he needed to.
His eyes dragged over you slowly, making a show out of looking at you. It made you squirm in a self-conscious kind of way. The kind of way that also made you want to chuck something at his head.
With a lazy smile, he finally leaned forward again, balancing elbows on the tops of his thighs. “Good morning to you, too,” he said.
You closed your eyes, sucking in a deep breath to keep yourself from screaming at him this early in the morning. “You know, if you’re going to use my apartment as a hideout, the least you could do is save me some fucking coffee.”
You had to admit—you understood why his apartment had a constant stream of one-night stands filing in at night and out in the morning. He had this way of looking at someone like they were the only person in the entire universe, like nothing else mattered. He looked at you like that, now. All attentive eyes and half-quirked up lips.
“Your charm doesn’t work on me,” you said with a roll of your eyes. Because it didn’t. All that charm, it was nice. There were split seconds where you understood, sure. But that feeling always passed even faster when you remembered every other thing about him.
“Not sure about that,” he teased. It was always this push and pull. Him trying to get under your skin, and you always reacting.
You pushed past the teasing because you just couldn’t deal with his entire personality that early in the morning. Instead, you got back to the matter at hand. “Is she still in there?” you asked, placing the empty coffee pot down on the table in front of you, simply so you could cross your arms.
Yunho shrugged, accentuating his uncertainty with a slight lift of his eyebrows. “Why don’t you go over and find out?”
“We’re not doing this,” you said, looking at him with that same pointed expression.
“Doing what?” he asked, mocking ignorance.
This would not be the first time, nor the second, nor the third that you’d provided Jeong Yunho with this kind of turn-down service. The first had been a mistake. Knocking on his door to ream him out for being loud throughout the night. The second time he’d tricked you, asked you to come over. And the third, well, it went something like this.
“We’re not friends. This is not something I just do for you,” you said. “And stop letting yourself into my apartment.”
“So, are you going to do it, or?” Yunho asked, one brow raised, and you knew he wasn’t planning on relenting. No, he would be insufferable about it until you gave in. He was always stronger-willed than you in that matter—more stubborn. More annoying.
“Make some coffee,” you said. It was in exasperation that you turned and stormed out, choosing to face the innocent woman left behind in his apartment rather than continuing to have this conversation. Plus, if there was anything you’d learned, it was that once you’d scared her away, he’d leave, too.
You didn’t understand why he did it. The whole one-night stand after one-night stand thing. He was charming enough, and any of the many girls you’d kicked out of his apartment probably would have made for a great long-term partner. Even just a situationship. It was his biggest red flag. The thing that turned you off. But you got it, too. Because if he didn’t live next door, if you didn’t get to witness the parade and the payoff, you would probably fall for his tricks and charms just as easily.
But you’d seen the man behind the curtain. You knew the game. And so you knew, too, that he didn’t give a single fuck about any of those women. Not even enough to reject them himself.
Even though it wasn’t the first time you’d done this, it still felt strange. Pretending. You knocked on the door. Crossed your arms over your chest. Tapped your foot. Directed the annoyance you felt toward Yunho into pretend anger.
Someone did, inevitably, answer the door.
“Hey bab—” the woman started. She had long black hair and warm brown eyes. She wore a long button-up shirt that stopped above her knees. Yunho’s. You witnessed the slow furrow of her brow as she put together the situation before you started whatever badly performed rant you chose this time.
You scrunched your face up to match, mock irritation appearing in the creases at the corner of your eyes, the slight scowl of your lips.
“Who are you?” the girl asked. It was always their first question, and sometimes you even felt bad about having to crush their dreams—you shattered the ideal image they had of Yunho in their heads, before he could find a way to do it themselves. You framed them as a mistress, the other half of a cheater.
Why couldn’t he just reject them himself? Wouldn’t everyone leave with more dignity in that circumstance? You and whatever girl he’d involved included?
But you stood firm, trying to imagine what it would feel like to show up at your boyfriend’s apartment only for the door to be answered by another woman.
“I’m Yunho’s girlfriend,” you said. You’d said it before. It still felt strange. A label you would never want to have. Probably because it would land you in a situation too close to this one. “Who are you?” you asked.
“I’m—uh,” the girl said. You didn’t stay to listen, instead pushing past her into the apartment, looking for your cheating boyfriend. It was enough to send her into high gear, throwing her clothes back on and ducking out the front door before you could so much as turn around.
Once she was gone, you took your time leaving. There was nothing interesting in his apartment, no secrets to glean by snooping. For the most part, he was an open book. All games and pick-up lines, without any actual substance.
You headed back to your apartment. Yunho stood in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, waiting for the pot of coffee to brew.
“She’s gone,” you said.
He chuckled under his breath, like he couldn’t believe you’d actually done it. The first time, you’d both had a laugh about the situation. The incidental scaring off of the woman he’d invited over. It wasn’t as funny anymore. At least not to you.
You studied him, watching his face for any shred of emotion, finding none. He truly didn’t care about these women or what happened to them after they left his apartment. It wasn’t like he’d speak to them again, so why would it matter how things ended?
“Come on,” Yunho said. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“I’m not looking at you like anything,” you said. But you could feel the scowl, still pressed into your features. Disgust.
He took a step forward, towering over you and craning his neck to meet your eyes. He loved getting into your personal space, like he was trying to figure you out just the same. But if he wouldn’t give away any shred of his real personality, then neither would you.
He was just an annoyance. A neighbor who thought the two of you were friends. That didn’t mean you actually had to be his friend.
“Well,” he said. “Say it.” His head tilted slightly to the side, waiting for whatever opinion you so clearly wanted to share regarding his dating habits.
“You should go home,” you said, instead. “Thanks to you and your little house guest, I didn’t get any sleep last night—and I have to work later.”
This made him smirk, a slow crawl across his lips as he enjoyed the thought of you listening. It wasn’t that you wanted to listen—because of course you didn’t. But he made it difficult. Your bedrooms shared a wall, and it wasn’t exactly thick.
“Don’t start,” you said, stopping whatever thought process was going on behind his eyes, whatever words he was planning on using to get even further under your skin.
He took the hint, holding his hands up in defense. He stepped away from you, taking out the full coffee pot to fill both of your mugs. He scooped one spoonful of sugar into his own mug, stirring it a few times before grabbing the mug and walking out of the kitchen. “Have a good day at work,” he said, before the door to your apartment opened and closed.
“I just don’t understand what his problem is,” you said, standing behind the bar, mixing a drink. Jihyo sat across from you, nursing the first drink you’d made for her. It was a quiet Thursday night, so for the most part, your bar was occupied by friends and a few other regulars who didn’t require that much attention.
It was Wooyoung who responded. “Maybe he likes you,” he said. It wouldn’t be the first time this idea was floated by the board. But it only earned an eye roll from both you and Jihyo, who refused to believe this asinine idea. “It’s guy logic,” Wooyoung said.
“Maybe you should move,” Jihyo suggested.
You pointed a finger at her, but looked at Wooyoung. “Now these are the types of solutions I’m looking for.” You laughed. “Maybe I should move.”
Wooyoung and Jihyo have been your best friends for ages, ever since college. They’ve been there for you throughout more challenging circumstances than just Yunho. If anyone were going to help you get through this, it would be them.
“You can’t move,” Wooyoung pointed out. “Your place is too nice.”
You’d talked in this circle with them countless times before. There was no obvious solution, aside from putting up with him.
“I could threaten to call the police,” you suggested. “Next time he shows up in my apartment.” You placed the finished drink on the counter in front of Wooyoung, taking his empty glass.
Jihyo pressed a finger to her lips. “Or,” she said. “You could lock your door.”
“I do lock my door,” you said. “He just knows where I keep the spare.”
“Okay, so hide the spare somewhere else,” Wooyoung said.
“I’ve tried that,” you said.
“Do you really need the spare?” Wooyoung asked.
“You made me get one,” you said, pointedly. “When I kept locking myself out.”
“Right, yeah,” he said. “You could give your backup to Jihyo instead—then there’s no Yunho problem, and I don’t have to worry about you calling me at two in the morning when you lock yourself out.”
Jihyo said, “No, no,” with a wag of her finger.
With a sigh, you picked up a collection of shot glasses, placing them on the bar between the three of you. They both had regular people jobs—i.e., ones that required them to be up early the next day, but neither did they protest when you started filling the glasses.
Just as you filled the last of the three, the bell atop the front door chimed. Pushing open the door was the topic of conversation himself. He wore a black leather jacket, snow dusting the tops of his shoulders. His cheeks were a soft pink from the cold, and his eyes found yours immediately from across the room.
His pleased smile was met by yet another scowl on your end. He closed the distance between the door and the bar in only a few steps, coming up behind Jihyo and Wooyoung. He reached forward and took Wooyoung’s shot as you pushed it forward.
Wooyoung looked at you, brows drawn together in shared annoyance. You and Jihyo already had your glasses raised, and Yunho was quick to join in on the cheers he hadn’t been invited to participate in.
He didn’t say anything, and neither did you. He just raised the shot to his lips, tipping it back and swallowing the clear liquid as if it were water.
You watched in stunned shock.
“Damn,” Yunho said. “You’re hanging out without me?”
You let your eyes fall shut for a second, trying to process the situation, trying to figure out what words to say aloud without coming off like a complete and total asshole.
Jihyo took the lead instead. “Why would we invite you?” she asked, a pretty smile appearing on her lips. One that might have looked harmless to an outsider, but you know meant I’ll fucking kill you.
Yunho placed a hand on his chest. “And here I thought we were friends.”
“You’re delusional,” you said.
He lifted his eyes to yours and smiled warmly, like he really was that delusional. You poured Wooyoung another shot, holding it while you waited for Yunho to sit anywhere else. Of course, he didn’t, instead opting to sit on the other side of Jihyo, who promptly turned her back to face Wooyoung completely.
You put the replacement in Wooyoung’s waiting hands.
Just as you were raising the shot glasses, Yunho cleared his throat. “Can I get something to drink, beautiful?” He had one arm on the counter, and he leaned forward over it, looking at you with those big brown eyes. You might even be attracted to him if he weren’t so god damn annoying.
You ignored him, instead, looking back to your friends. Your shot glasses clinked in the center before you all threw them back.
“Why is he here?” Jihyo asked in a low voice.
“He can hear you,” Yunho quipped, and you could hear the smirk in his tone without even looking in his direction. “And this is a public bar. You do know that, right?”
Jihyo pressed her lips into a tight line, glaring at you because she refused to turn around and glare at the source of the problem.
“What do you want to drink, Yunho?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest and attempting to press a smile to your lips. It was your job, after all, to provide good customer service. You couldn’t be the one asking him why he was there or what he wanted from you. At least not when you were on the clock. You would leave those questions to Jihyo and Wooyoung.
“Do you know how to make an Old Fashioned?” Yunho asked.
Jihyo did whip around to face him, then. “She’s a bartender, you idiot. She knows how to make an Old Fashioned.”
That same slow smile crept across his lips. “You’re pretty when you’re mad,” he said, eliciting an immediate groan from Jihyo.
“Oh my god,” she said. “What is your problem?”
You looked to Wooyoung, who attempted to hide a laugh with his hand. This was pretty much how it went whenever the three of you were together. You and Wooyoung stopping Jihyo from getting into yelling matches with whoever didn’t agree with her. It was charming, in its own way.
“It’s fine,” you said, not wanting to make a scene in front of the four other customers in the bar. “Just ignore him. I do.”
You started making the Old Fashion instead, letting Wooyoung and Jihyo get back to their own conversation. All the while, feeling Yunho’s eyes trailing your hands, watching your movements.
Maybe Jihyo saw your cheeks turning red, or maybe she was just really curious about your love life, because she diverted the conversation away from Yunho, distracting you from his watchful eyes in one swoop. “How are things going with Hongjoong?” she asked.
You placed the drink in front of Yunho, saying, “Oh, yeah. They’re good,” while making direct eye contact. There was something quizzical in his gaze that you couldn’t quite place. You didn’t ask, and he didn’t voice whatever question it was that plagued his brain. “We’re going out tomorrow night.”
“Third date, right?” Jihyo asked.
“Mhm,” you said.
“I hope he puts out,” Wooyoung said, and Yunho choked on his sip, setting the glass down to cough into the collar of his jacket, hiding the redness blooming on his cheeks.
Your eyes widened at Wooyoung, a pointed glare.
“What?” he said, unsure why you were looking at him like that. “You’re the one who said it had been a while—”
Jihyo elbowed him in the stomach, and that was the end of that conversation.
You printed out Yunho’s receipt and placed it on the table in front of him without meeting his eyes.
“Actually, can I start a tab?” he asked.
You grabbed the receipt, crumpling it into a ball. Through gritted teeth, you said, “Of course,” taking his card out of his outstretched hand.
Customers thinned out one at a time for the next several hours, with Jihyo and Wooyoung finally departing a little bit before midnight. But Yunho stayed.
At 1am, he was still there, watching you clean up from across the bar.
“So,” he started.
You threw your head back in exasperation, even though the conversation had hardly begun. You just knew, because it was Yunho, that it was going to be exhausting.
“You’re dating,” he said.
It wasn’t what you expected, and it caught you off guard. The way he said it so casually, aloud to the empty bar.
“Is there something strange about that to you?” you asked. “Me dating?” You tried not to go on the defensive. But there was something so inherently cutting about the way he’d said it. Like he couldn’t believe it. Did he think there was something wrong with you? Something fundamentally unlikable? Or were you just projecting?
“No,” he said. “Of course not.”
Silence. Deafening. Your ears had a heartbeat.
“So, it’s been a while…?” he asked, and that stupid fucking smirk reappeared on his lips, like he was proud of something.
“I’m not having this conversation with you,” you said.
“You know, if you don’t remember how to do it, I can give you a crash course,” Yunho suggested, leaning back in his seat.
“I’ll kill you.”
“I love it when you talk dirty to me.”
You took your phone out to check the time, waiting for the numbers to flip forward just enough. When they did, you smiled. “Sorry, we’re actually closed.” You turned to face the register, printing out his receipt. You placed it in a book, then in front of him.
“You want a ride home?” he asked.
You couldn’t help the look of surprise that appeared on your face.
“What?” he asked. “I’m a gentleman.”
“You are not.”
“Just because you don’t like me, doesn’t mean I’m not charming,” he said. “So, do you want a ride home or not? It’s cold.”
He signed the receipt and closed the book.
You shook your head. “No,” you said. It sounded too firm. “Thanks,” you tacked on. You’d face whatever winter weather you had to in order to get home without his help.
Yunho stood up, and for some reason, you watched him. You always forgot how tall he was, how broad his shoulders were, until he was standing in front of you. He tossed his leather jacket back on, shoved his hands into his pockets, and left without another word.
You followed, locking the door behind him. Then, finishing your tasks, you grabbed the book off the counter and pulled out his receipt. On the few drinks he’d ordered, he tipped nearly thirty dollars. And there was a note scrawled across the bottom, too. Sorry for being an ass. You looked at it for a while before putting the tip into the system, storing the receipt, and shutting everything down.
It was a short walk between the bar and your apartment. Only about ten minutes. There was never any point in getting a car. On weekend nights, you could always count on Jihyo or Wooyoung to bring you home. Other nights, the walk wasn’t so bad. Besides, you kept pepper spray and a knife close at hand in case anyone dared try something with you. It wasn’t masked murderers in the middle of the night that caused a problem, though.
It was the torrential downpour that came on like a light switch, drenching you in ice-cold rain in seconds. You held one arm above your head as you walked, but it barely shielded you from the storm.
There were hardly any cars on the road, so when a motorcycle pulled up next to you, you were fairly certain you were about to be kidnapped.
So when the rider took off his helmet and extended it to you, revealing a quickly drenched Yunho, you couldn’t keep the shock from your face.
“Come on,” he said. “Get on.”
“What?” you asked, because your brain wasn’t exactly functioning properly. You didn’t even know he had a motorcycle, and you certainly weren’t going to get on the back of it.
“Come on,” he said again. “It’s pouring. You’ve made it ten feet. Let me take you home.”
You hated the way he said it, but your clothes were getting heavier as he spoke, so you stepped forward and took it.
“Isn’t it dangerous?” you asked. “You don’t have another helmet?”
He shook his head, freeing some of the wet hair that was stuck to his forehead. “Stop talking,” he said. “Just get on.”
You swung a leg over, keeping your distance from him. “What—how do I?” you asked.
“Hold on to me,” he said. You hesitated. “Just do it, it’s pouring, if you haven’t noticed, and I’d like to get going.”
You scooted forward and placed your hands delicately on the sides of his body. One hand at a time, he pulled you forward even more, putting each of your palms on his chest. “You’re such a baby,” he said. “Just hold on to me.”
“Fine,” you grumbled, pressing your body against his. You hated how large he felt. His back was wide and strong, and his chest felt warm underneath your hands.
Before you could think about how much you liked being close to him, he started driving. You hardly even had time to worry about him driving without a helmet in the rain before you were pulling into the apartment complex’s garage.
You were still clutching his chest when he said, “You can let go.”
“Oh,” you said, not loud enough to be heard through the helmet. You did, however, jump away from him, pulling your arms back and scooting backward before clambering off the bike altogether.
Your heart raced, and a clamminess had settled on your skin beneath all the layers of drenched clothing. When your hands touched his body—even through his clothes, it felt like being electrocuted. No reason for that could be justified by hatred. But you hated it, still. That he was so hot that just touching him made your body react. You convinced yourself it was purely animalistic. That how much you hated him couldn’t negate how attractive he was. It made you hate him more.
He turned off the bike and swung a leg over to stand up, reaching a hand out to you. You stared at it for a second too long. “The helmet,” he said.
Right, you thought. What was making your brain lag behind? Why couldn’t you fucking think straight? Surely it couldn’t be the dripping wet 6’1” man in front of you.
You took the helmet off and handed it to him. He secured it on the back of the bike, then lifted his hands to grasp his shirt, twisting it. Water fell in droplets onto the floor between you, but your eyes lingered on the patch of exposed skin, the curve of a few abs under the thin shirt. You could barely even process the fact that you were looking, let alone that he looked good. It was only when he cleared his throat that your eyes flicked up to meet his and that stupid smirk that never seemed to fade fully.
“Thanks for the ride,” you said abruptly before taking a few quick steps away toward the elevator. Unfortunately, he followed, slipping inside before the doors could budge.
Right, you wanted to say. We’re neighbors. At least you wouldn’t have to listen to him engaging in his usual extracurricular activities that night. Unless he magically found some way to get a girl back to his place in the middle of the night. Maybe he could summon one from the internet with the power of dating apps. You didn’t know how he did it, anyway.
The elevator immediately felt small, the ride up to your floor longer than it had ever been. Every time you looked up, he was trying to find your eyes, watching you intently. But neither did he say anything—and of course, you kept quiet too. Kept actively trying not to look at him. But you were curious, and you couldn’t help yourself sometimes. Because who was this man? This man who grated on your nerves and got under your skin and was so god damn annoying, but also left you big tips with nice notes and drove you home from work in the rain? This man who was absolutely gorgeous, whose body you wanted to touch again?
“You seem like you’re panicking,” he said.
“What?” you asked, lifting your head to meet his eyes. He leaned casually against the railing in the elevator, watching you with his hands in his pockets. “I’m not panicking. Why would I be panicking?” you asked, but it was immediately too defensive, too much talking.
He raised a brow, nodding almost imperceptibly. “Right,” he said. “All things someone who isn’t panicking would say.” He kicked off the wall, striding toward you, only to stop a few inches short.
“What are you doing?” you asked.
“Just trying to figure you out,” he said.
“I don’t need figuring out,” you said.
“Really?” he asked. He reached out, then, because he couldn’t help it. Because he wanted to touch you. His hand skimmed your bicep, and you shivered. He leaned forward. “Are you sure you don’t like me?”
“Yes,” you said, through gritted teeth, trying to sound as sure of yourself as you possibly could.
This only elicited a smile and a dry laugh from Yunho. “You don’t sound sure.”
“I could kiss you, and I would still feel absolutely nothing,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders. Who was he to question your feelings, especially when all you’d ever given him were snarky comments and sass? Did he think a few longing looks at his abs equated true desire?
“Prove it,” he said.
“What?”
“Kiss me,” he said.
Later that night, when you struggled to sleep—you’d argue with yourself about the reasons. You’d say it was a matter of impulse. A desire to prove him wrong. But there would be something in the back of your head, too, a nagging, whispering like the devil on your shoulder—you did it because you wanted to.
When you stepped forward and stood on your toes, you weren’t thinking about any of that.
It was a challenge, and you weren’t one to back down. Simple as that.
The kiss started soft. Yunho took a moment to react, his lips still against yours for only a second before he stepped forward into you, forcing you backward into the wall. His hands moved, first grabbing your upper arms, then the sides of your face as he tilted your head back to deepen it—slipping a tongue between your lips.
You didn’t hold back. Your hands gripped the zippered edges of his jacket, pulling him toward you needlessly.
The kiss was not kind or soft, but passionate and aggressive, like something pent up was spilling out for everyone to see.
Only the ding of the elevator reaching your floor was enough to separate you. You pulled away, letting your hands drop from his jacket as your thumb came up to wipe away some inevitably smeared lipstick—probably worse than you could save with a simple action, anyway.
“See,” you said, rolling your shoulders back. “Nothing.”
Then, you slipped out from under his grasp and walked out of the elevator, trying to keep your pace even and calm until you were inside your apartment, breathing heavily with your back against the door.
Yunho turned to watch you leave, but didn’t follow. Instead, he stood stock still in the center of the elevator, fingers touching his lips, until the doors started to close.
“You what?” Jihyo asked. She leaned against the door frame as you dusted blush across your cheekbones.
You hadn’t exactly planned on telling her—or anyone—what happened, but it just slipped out. There weren’t really words to explain the situation. You couldn’t figure out why you’d done it, anyway. He’d tested you, and you weren’t one to back away from a dare. You wanted him to know, for certain, that he had no chance with you.
But why, then, had it been so difficult to stop thinking about him?
“I don’t know,” you said, because they were the only words bubbling to the surface in your otherwise Yunho-occupied mind. The heat of his lips on yours, the way his hands roamed all over your skin. You were starting to understand why the women he shared a bed with sang his praises all night long.
“Well—why? How?” she asked. “When?”
When you didn’t respond right away, Jihyo’s eyes widened expectantly, waiting for you to reveal all the dirty details of the situation.
With a sigh, you put down the brush and turned, leaning against the sink. “He gave me a ride home last night, after my shift.”
“He stayed that late?”
“Yes,” you said. “And I thought it was just to get on my nerves—but I don’t know. He left me a big tip and apologized for being such an ass.”
“He what?”
“He left a note on his check. Sorry for being an ass,” you explained.
“And then he kissed you?” Jihyo asked, one brow raised.
You shook your head. “No. He left. I started walking home. It was cold. It started raining. Yunho found me. I don’t know how. Maybe he was waiting. I don’t know. He gave me a ride home on his motorcycle, by the way.”
“You got on a motorcycle with Yunho?”
Your eyes narrowed. “Is that so unbelievable?”
“A little bit, yeah,” she commented.
“Anyway, it’s pouring. He drives me home. We’re in the elevator on the way up, and he just accuses me of looking at him differently.”
“Were you?” Jihyo asked.
“Hm?”
“Were you looking at him differently?” she clarified.
“Oh.” You hesitated. “Of course not. But I don’t know what I was thinking. The words just kind of came out. I said something along the lines of, I could kiss you and still feel nothing.” You, of course, did remember the exact words you’d spoken—but you were trying to be aloof. Trying to pretend that it wasn’t affecting you.
You weren’t very good at it. And besides. Jihyo could always see through your bullshit.
“And then he told me to prove it,” you said, your voice a bit smaller than before, ashamed of the act so many hours past it. An entire night's sleep and you still couldn’t believe you’d actually done it. You should have just laughed in his face. Should have ignored him, like you always did.
“So you did,” Jihyo said.
“So I did,” you echoed.
“But you felt something,” she said.
“But I felt something.” Your stomach flipped. You turned away from Jihyo, facing the mirror again, your hands gripping the edge. “And I can’t stop thinking about it.”
Jihyo, ever the pragmatic, said, “Well, stop thinking about it. He’s an asshole, remember.”
You weren’t naive to believe that his apology truly fixed anything. Besides, maybe this was the long con. Step one: apologize. Step two: get you on the back of his bike. Step three: kiss you in the elevator? Then what?
Who would he send over to kick you out in the morning? Some other neighbor?
It wasn’t feasible, these thoughts. They couldn’t go anywhere. It almost made it worse—that they just had to stay in your head. Trapped. Because acting on them, well, it was a fucking horrible idea. And he was probably just playing with you, anyway. That’s what he did.
“I remember,” you grumbled.
“Do you remember Hongjoong?” she asked, and you could see the way she smiled reflected in the mirror. Pointed, obvious in the point she was conveying.
You picked up a lip gloss and ran the wand over your lips. “I didn’t cancel the date, did I?” you said. “I’m wearing a cute outfit. I’m going.”
Jihyo smiled. “Okay. Good.”
“You know, you can be really judgmental,” you said, a hint of a laugh escaping between words.
“That’s why you love me.” She smiled big and wide. “Now have fun tonight. That’s an order. And try to get laid, for the love of god.”
You were standing in front of your door, a little bit tipsy, trying to unlock it, when the one down the hall popped open. You couldn’t help the groan that fell from your lips, knowing just who was going to appear in front of you in no time at all.
He took his time. You had to give him that. He leaned against the door frame to his own apartment for a little while, watching you struggle. Which was annoying in its own way—but at least it was from a distance.
The distance didn’t last. He got closer.
You held up a hand in his direction. “No,” you said. You weren’t drunk enough that your words were slurring, just tipsy enough to say exactly what was on your mind. A dangerous thing, considering what was on your mind lately regarding the man in the hallway. “You stay over there.”
Thankfully, you got the key to work, letting the door to your apartment swing inward. Yunho was faster, though, and more determined. He caught it with one hand before it could slam closed.
“Are you okay?” he asked, and those weren’t the words you expected to come out of his mouth. They weren’t suggestive or annoying. He actually seemed genuine. Had you ever met a more confusing man? One who could flip back and forth between strange softness and playful humor faster than you could process it?
He wore black jeans, the same leather jacket he basically lived in. His near-black hair fell just past his eyebrows, only partially obscuring brown eyes that met your gaze. There was a slight crease between his brows, like he was just as confused as you were about the state of his personality—about the way he was acting toward you.
“Yes,” you said. Yunho closed the door gently behind him. “And you can’t just invite yourself into my apartment whenever you want.”
“Date didn’t go well, I take it?” he asked, that playful tone coming back at half power. The smirk that appeared put in a lot of work.
You pressed your lips into a tight line, gritting your teeth. You couldn’t help the blush that rose to your cheeks as you grew embarrassed. Any normal person wouldn’t have commented on the fact that you’d come home alone after a third date—especially after your friends announced so loudly your desire to get laid.
“Can we not do this right now?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest as if to cover some of your obvious discomfort.
“You know,” he said, taking another step closer to you. You didn’t move. Of course you didn’t. You wanted him closer, even if you wanted to pretend otherwise. And ultimately, your body beat out your mind the moment he intruded upon your personal space. “The offer still stands.”
Your brain wasn’t working. “What offer?” you bit out.
He didn’t touch you, but his hands might as well have been all over your body with how hot you felt. “You know—if you’ve forgotten what it’s like to be with someone.”
It was enough to make you take a much-needed step back, sobering you some. “Oh my god, get a grip, Yunho.”
He just laughed. It wasn’t a big deal to him. It was just another joke, another way to get under your skin.
You steeled yourself for the lie you needed to speak aloud, to really get the point across. “I don’t want you. I’ll never want you. I like my men with a little more… dignity.”
For a split second, you were certain you’d hurt his feelings. His eyes softened, and his shoulders lowered. But then he was back to smiling again, acting like it hadn’t affected him in the slightest.
When had this turned from him asking you if you were okay to him propositioning you again? And why had you wanted to say yes? If it weren’t for the voice of Jihyo playing in the back of your head, reminding you that he was an asshole—over and over again—you might have let it happen. You were feeling just dejected enough, anyway.
Hongjoong had basically rejected you. It was rightful, too, since you’d barely paid attention to him during your date. Your mind had been on other things. Other people. And besides, there’d been no spark. He didn’t push your buttons. He didn’t make you laugh.
“Really, though,” Yunho said, taking a more serious tone again—enough to give you whiplash. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine,” you said.
“You don’t seem fine,” Yunho said.
“If I needed a friend, I’d call Jihyo. Or Wooyoung.”
Again, that look of hurt. Like he’d been struck.
“Right,” he said. “Obviously.” He took a step away from you, toward the door. “Sorry.” You were too stunned to speak. “I’ll see you later.”
When you woke up the next morning, there was no woman to escort out of Yunho’s apartment. Your apartment sat empty. Quiet. It continued like that for several days. Nearly a week. You let Jihyo and Wooyoung talk you out of going over there, of making sure everything was okay with him. That he hadn’t died or moved out or something.
No matter what excuses you made up, however, you still couldn’t get him out of your head. Even when he wasn’t around to bother you. You found yourself hoping to catch him around a corner, in the elevator, or by his bike in the parking garage. You didn’t.
He was strangely absent.
Not only that, but his apartment was quiet, too.
That should have resulted in better sleep, but you found yourself awake for other reasons, staring at the ceiling. You could find any reason to doubt yourself. Maybe you’d been too quick to judge him. The way his face had fallen the last time you spoke haunted you. Eyes open or closed, you could still see the ghost of his disappointment. The soft tenor of his voice and the way he sounded so genuine.
Convincing yourself that it was a fluke did not help.
And somehow, you always ended up back in that elevator, his lips hot on yours.
Yunho was hot. Of course, he was. You had never questioned that fact. You had explicitly tried to ignore it. But he wasn’t your type. He liked to push your buttons, get under your skin. He didn’t respect basic boundaries.
Now, he was gone. The firm boundary you’d put in place was being respected, and you found yourself being the one who wanted to cross it.
Maybe that was growth. Or maybe it was all a part of Yunho’s grand scheme to get in your pants. If you thought about it for too long, you could believe anything. It was the only the long con, a way of getting to you by disappearing when you were finally interested—or, it was the first genuine thing he’d ever done.
And it made you feel bad.
Something shot through your nervous system, a realization that you didn’t want to make eye contact. You missed him.
It was nearly a week later when you spotted his door clicking shut just as you were leaving to run a few errands.
Maybe it wasn’t a good idea. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you. But after all the times he’d barged in uninvited, you figure it was okay to intrude on his space just once. Walking the short distance from your door to his, however, did cause a strange anxiety to settle in next to your heart, tucked away in your ribcage. A thrumming that whispered, “What are you doing? Why are you doing it?” over and over again.
It didn’t stop you from raising your hand to tap your knuckles against the door.
When Yunho opened the door, he looked a little worse for wear. His hair was fluffier than usual, sticking up in places like he’d spent the last seven days running his hands through it. He looked you up and down. A smile appeared on his lips, but it wasn’t the same as the proud one you’d grown used to. He didn’t say anything, just watched you.
“Hey,” you said. Attempting to be casual didn’t exactly suit you.
“Hey?” he repeated.
“Yeah,” you said. “Hey.” You tried to meet his gaze, but his eyes kept moving away, finding something else to look at whenever you got close.
He had one hand on the door, holding it open. It would be easier that way, to close it whenever he needed to. Because he wanted to look at you. He wanted to meet your gaze. But there was this ball of anger in the pit of his stomach, too. A tightly wound piece of hatred. Not for you, of course. He couldn’t hate you. No. He hated himself. And he would never say it out loud, not to himself and certainly not to you—but he hated himself for being someone you didn’t want.
But all he could do was look past your eyes and force a smile.
Unfortunately, the hatred he felt toward himself manifested as anger. “Do you need something?”
The sharpness in his tone sliced straight through you. “What?”
“You made it clear you don’t want me,” he said.
“Well—” you stammered. “That doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.”
“You have Jihyo and Wooyoung, right? That’s what you said.” He paused and finally met your eyes. Something crossed his face. “Besides, I don’t want to be your friend.”
“Oh,” you said. The anxiety tucked away in your chest blossomed, and your heart began to race. This was a mistake, then. At least you could leave and pretend it never happened. Why then, were you so frozen solid to the spot in front of his door? Why couldn’t you just turn and walk away? Why could you feel the ghost of his lips on yours, the heat of his palms on your arms? Why couldn’t you look away?
“You’re afraid to admit it, but I’m not,” he said, his voice dropping to that low, gentle tone once more. The one you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about. The one that floated through your dreams like a melody. “I like you.”
Your lips parted. He leaned forward to look at you on eye level, studying you. He didn’t touch you, just let his eyes bore into yours. It was far too intimate than your racing heart could take.
“You think I’m all bad,” he said. “I’m not. Let me take you out sometime. I’ll prove it to you.” The corners of his lips turned up in a small smile. Hopeful.
It was your own self-hatred, your own uncertainty, your own self-consciousness, your own fear, that made you say what you did. “I can’t,” you said. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said. And that’s what broke you. Not the rejection, but the acceptance. The way his smile turned firm as he stood straight up and stepped away from you, moving to close the door just as you turned to flee.
Several days passed, but even the passage of time didn’t make you feel any better.
“It’s good,” Jihyo said. “I don’t trust him.”
“Yeah,” Wooyoung echoed. “Me either.”
It wasn’t the first time you’d had this conversation, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, either, given how much you’d been thinking about it. About him. Even your thoughts felt selfish. Because you could have him, if you really wanted to. If you really wanted to have him, you could walk over to his apartment and tell him that.
But something held you back.
The fear, mostly.
The thought that you would just end up like all the other girls he’d engaged in one-night stands with. You weren’t exactly a one-night stand kind of girl. Or, at least, you weren’t certain that was what you wanted from Yunho. You didn’t know what you wanted. Maybe that was the scariest part.
“You didn’t see the look on his face,” you said, sinking deeper and deeper into the couch.
It was Wooyoung who eventually said. “If you like him, I guess I don’t really see what the problem is.”
“The problem is he has a different girl over every night,” Jihyo commented.
“Not every night. Besides, he hasn’t in a while,” you said, which earned you a look from Jihyo. “What? The walls are thin. I can hear everything.”
“Maybe he’s a changed man,” Wooyoung commented.
“Doubt it,” Jihyo said.
You could only shrug. “I don’t know. I hardly know him, anyway.” You let out a long, deep breath. “I’ll get over it eventually. So will he. I’m sure it’ll be fine in a few weeks. Maybe we’ll even laugh about it.”
Hours later, when Jihyo and Wooyoung finally left your apartment—you stood at the door, waiting for them to get on the elevator. An old habit. Like making sure they got home safe. The elevator doors opened, and Yunho stepped out. You only saw him at first.
Then, you saw her. The girl hanging off his arm. Laughing. Smiling.
Jihyo shot you a look, but you shook your head. It was fine. You didn’t need them coming to your rescue over a man you’d rejected. They got into the elevator and disappeared. You tried to close your door fast, but Yunho spotted you first. You just barely caught him raising a few fingers in a wave, a smile on his lips, before the hastily shut door separated you both.
Something bloomed in your chest, hot and angry. You’d seen him with other women before. Countless times, in fact. You’d heard them through your walls, escorted them out afterward. And you’d never been angry at anything other than the inconvenience.
But now the anger flushed your system of coherent thoughts. The tips of your ears turned red as you rested your forehead against the closed door. This wasn’t anger. As much as you wanted to believe it, manifest it into being so—it was so much worse.
Jealousy.
It made your skin crawl, the realization. You were jealous. And the worst part was that you had no right to be. He had offered you the same thing he gave all those girls, and you’d turned him down. So why now, did you have your head resting on the door and your eyes squeezed tight? Maybe it wasn’t just jealousy, but anger too.
Anger at your own poor decision-making skills. Anger at Yunho for—what exactly? Moving on? You were the one who’d been adamant that there was absolutely nothing between you. He’d shot his shot and failed. Had you expected him to retire from the little game he played every weekend?
You tried to remind yourself what would have happened if you’d gone out with him. That he wasn’t relationship material. That he didn’t want you like you wanted him.
Fuck. You wanted him.
You wanted him, and it made you feel like an idiot.
Is that how everyone who ended up in his bed felt? Confused and annoyed, angry with his charming personality and his ability to sweep pretty much anyone off their feet without really even trying?
And when had this happened, anyway? He’d moved in a few months ago. You’d been tolerating his presence since—and then things just, well, shifted.
It didn’t even matter if you ended up as just another one-night stand—you wanted to be in his bed, underneath him, no matter what the outcome was. It was that thought that pulled you away from the door and sent you into the bedroom, diving under the covers and attempting to think about anything other than what was possibly going on in the next room over.
Damn his stupid motorcycle and the way his shirt, damp with rain and sweat, had stuck to his skin. Damn his stupid, charming smile that shifted between snarky and kind. Damn his everything, every detail that made you look twice, that had you second-guessing every moment, every interaction.
It was even worse, knowing that he wanted you, too. Knowing that he wanted you, and that you could have just had him, if you weren’t such an idiot.
And so you oscillated back and forth like that for a while—between being annoyed at yourself for rejecting him and at him for being so charming and so untrustworthy at the same time.
It went on like that for some time before you eventually fell asleep to thoughts of walking down the hall and throwing the door open, to grabbing him and kissing him—before your mind eventually decided being awake no longer served you.
Unfortunately, when morning came, it wasn’t with a new, refreshed mind.
Instead, more thoughts swarmed, and before you could stop and think about what you were doing, you were standing in the hallway outside Yunho’s apartment in your pajamas.
It wasn’t until you raised your hand to knock that you realized exactly where you were.
Yunho must have sensed it. The door swung open, and there he was, standing there with that somewhat charming, somewhat obnoxious smile on his face, looking at you like this—whatever you were doing—was, in fact, completely normal behavior.
He looked just out of bed, messy hair and plaid pajama pants. A white shirt that clung to him and a loose robe overtop. One hand held a mug of coffee, and he leaned against the door frame in such a casual manner as you glanced him over, trying to figure out some excuse for why you’d shown up at his door.
“Good morning,” he said. There was a coldness to his voice. Something absent from his tone that you didn’t want to linger on. Like he was distancing himself from you.
Words failed you.
“I—” you started. You took a step forward, nearly into his body. He didn’t yield against you, instead holding firm in the door frame. You tried to look over his shoulder to see if the girl was still present. Did he not want your help escorting her out?
The smile that fell on his lips was slow, and you watched him figure you out in record time.
“Looking for someone?” he asked, that cold tone growing warmer, charm seeping back into his words, that familiar enjoyment. A cat playing with a mouse.
You took a step back. “No.”
“Seems like you are.”
“I’m not,” you said, but you weren’t able to keep the defensive note from your voice. It was so painstakingly clear to both of you why you were there and what you were looking for. It became a game, then, of who would concede the space first. Who would give up. You could easily admit your lie, but there was no pride in that. And Yunho, well, he could just as easily call you out on it, but that didn’t seem like the path he wanted to take, either.
Instead, it turned into a standoff of words loaded into guns and backs turned. Paces counted before firing. Eye contact, before your gaze dropped to his lips, and the slow smile crawling across turned into a smirk of victory undeserved.
“I just thought you might want my help,” you said, cocking your head back and crossing your arms. A feeble attempt to gain some ground.
“I don’t,” he said. Sharp. You hated that the simple words cut, even though you would have claimed to hate said help only a week prior.
“You don’t,” you repeated.
Your cursed brain. He’d found someone else. Someone else to break the streak of one-night stand girls. He’d found someone else, and it was too late, and you’d ruined everything out of pure indecisiveness and misguided advice.
Maybe he wasn’t even such a bad guy.
Maybe your vision had been clouded by jealousy from the very beginning.
Yunho stepped away from the door, walking deeper into the apartment. You hesitated. He brought down another mug and filled it, pushing it in your direction and eying you to take it.
“You know,” he said. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
Your brows drew together as you watched him, sipping his coffee and looking over the cup at you, still standing in the hallway.
“I’m not—” you started, but he just laughed. “I’m really not.”
“Then why are you here?” he asked, the genuine nature of his voice catching you off guard. “You already rejected me, remember?”
Your feet carried you into his apartment. You closed the door behind you.
“I remember,” you said. You stopped across from him and reached over to pick up the mug of coffee, the kitchen island separating you. You looked over your shoulder, eyes wandering toward the open door of his bedroom.
“You’re funny,” he said.
“What?” you asked, eyes snapping back to him.
“There’s no one here,” Yunho said. He set his coffee mug down on the counter and walked closer to you. “And whatever you’re trying to do—you’re not very good at it.”
He reached up and took the coffee mug out of your hands, placing it on the counter next to his.
“There’s no one here,” you said, repeating his words back to him for the second time. It was easier than finding new ones to say.
He rolled his eyes, but the annoyance didn’t reach his lips. No, those still held that same pleased smile, like he knew something you didn’t.
Yunho reached out, closing the distance between you, to tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. He looked down at you with a gaze you couldn’t place. Something between admiration and lust. His fingers trailed down your jaw and hooked under your chin.
His touch froze you. You could only blink and watch, your gaze darting between his mouth and his eyes.
“Are you jealous?” he asked, holding your chin and looking at you carefully.
“I don’t know,” you said, because that was the truth. All the thoughts in your mind were jumbled, and nothing made sense when it came to him.
He raised one brow, skeptical. “Did you need to borrow something?” he asked. “Or yell at me because the TV was too loud?”
“No,” you said.
“Then why did you come over?” he asked. He led you toward the answer, walked you there while holding your chin and making sure you kept your eyes trained on his. His voice was gentle, but stern—and you knew he wouldn’t relent until you gave him the truth.
You sighed, and this small act of giving up only made the corners of his lips turn up. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” you said. His lips parted in shock. Because he’d been expecting an admission regarding your jealousy, not the way that he raced through your mind all night. But you kept going, anyway. “And I didn’t mean to come over, I mean—I guess I did. But I left my apartment, and then here I was—and I wasn’t even going to knock, but you opened the door, and then all I could think about was whether or not you had a girl over.”
His hand slipped from your chin to lay flat against the side of your head, his palm on your cheek and his fingers dipping into your hair.
Your heart raced faster as his eyes dropped to your lips, and your first kiss played on a loop over and over again until you were stepping closer to him, lifting a hand to touch the one on your cheek.
He inched closer too, until your bodies were almost touching.
Yunho’s eyes met yours, then flicked downward. Up and back. Your eyes followed the same pattern, and you moved closer, closer, a centimeter at a time, until his lips were on yours again and everything agonizingly slow kicked into full speed.
His other hand came up to cup your other cheek as he kissed you slowly. It wasn’t the abrupt, intense heat of the kiss you shared in the elevator, but a soft, molten kiss that sent your nerves firing.
When he pulled away, it was only a half an inch, barely enough to keep you from recapturing his lips and stopping whatever sentence whirred to life behind hazy eyes. “That’s what I wanted our first kiss to be like,” he said.
“I liked our first kiss,” you said, without really thinking.
He dropped his forehead against yours. “Me too.”
“I liked the second too.” But you didn’t let yourself reach out again, not with the last thought that nagged at the back of your mind. “What about the girl—your date last night?”
“She didn’t stay long. I couldn’t stop thinking about my neighbor.” He put a half-step’s worth of space between you.
“How annoying,” you said, laughing under your breath.
“Yeah, she really is,” he teased. “Kinda hot, though.”
“Kinda?” you asked, raising a brow at him.
“Okay, insanely,” Yunho said, crossing his arms over his chest. “So hot she’s driven me mad since the day I moved in. Is that what you want to hear?”
You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your lips. “Yes.”
“Now will you let me take you out?” he asked.
You hadn’t thought about what would happen after you stormed over to his apartment without invitation, nor what would happen after his lips were on yours. You thought he would try something more, but he kept his distance—asked about dates instead.
“You look shocked,” he said.
“I’m not,” you said, and he chuckled under his breath. Apparently, you were easier to read than you thought, or maybe he was just good at knowing what you were thinking. Somehow, that wasn’t as annoying as it used to be.
“Not jealous, not shocked…” he trailed off. “Not very good at lying, either.”
“I just didn’t think dating was really your thing,” you said.
He placed a hand to his heart in mock hurt. “You wound me,” he said. “I’m a romantic at heart, you’ll see.”
“Oh, will I?” you asked, “From what I’ve heard, it doesn’t sound like romance.” You tilted your head to the side, looking up at him, watching for the reaction.
His brows lifted a hair. “You’ve been listening.”
“The walls are thin, Yunho.”
“And that’s why you’re jealous?” he asked, reaching out to poke your cheek. “Because of what you’ve been hearing?”
“No,” you stammered, a crinkle developing between your brows in irritation.
“I can’t figure you out,” he said. “You think I’m this big player, right? But you’re also up at night with your ear to the wall trying to listen in so—I think you might be the real freak, here.”
You slapped his arm playfully. “I am not.”
“We’ll see,” he said, continuing before you could get a word in, “Let me take you out tonight.”
“I’m working,” you said.
“Tomorrow night.”
You pretended to ponder the availability of your schedule. Since your minor situationship with Hongjoong fizzled out, you hadn’t had plans with anyone but Jihyo and Wooyoung. And they wouldn’t mind a night off from having to listen to your problems. Maybe you’d get an earful from Jihyo about how you were choosing to spend the night, instead, but Wooyoung would come around.
“Tomorrow night,” you confirmed.
It was strange how quickly everything turned over in your mind. Maybe you were naive, but one kiss and you’d started to see him differently. That voice that nagged in the back of your mind, reminding you that maybe he was like this with all the girls he brought back, had disappeared completely. Instead, you found ways to justify it all. There was nothing wrong with sleeping around, anyway.
You’d had more active times in your life, too. And no one had judged you for that, well, experimentation.
He watched the cogs turn behind your eyes. “What are you thinking?” he asked.
“Just trying to figure you out, is all.”
He opened his mouth, then closed it, rethinking whatever it was he wanted to say. It seemed like you were both playing the same game—trying to understand the other without giving too much away, without making a big deal out of something that hadn’t gone anywhere, yet.
“So,” you said. A blanket of silence suddenly fell between you, the awkward air of the kiss settling on your shoulders, and the future plans made.
“So,” Yunho said, much cooler, calmer, than you had. “I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Definitely.”
You took a step back, but he reached out to grab your hand before you could get too far. He held it, not too tight, but not exactly with a gentle grasp, either. “I’m looking forward to it,” he said. “Really.”
Heat rose to your cheeks.
“Yeah,” you said. “Me too,” before disappearing from his apartment. By the time you were back home, your palms were sweating.
Was this a horrible idea? And if it was, why did you want it so badly?
The next 36 hours went by at an unimaginably slow pace. In that time, you managed to spend a good several more hours overthinking, at least thirty minutes on the phone with Jihyo, convincing her that this was, maybe, a good idea, actually, and the rest of the time panicking about your ability to make decisions regarding your love life.
“It doesn’t have to be anything,” Jihyo said at the end of the call, after retiring her role as devil’s advocate. “It was just a kiss, right? And it’s just a date.”
“Maybe I want it to be something,” you said. “That’s what scares me. What if he doesn’t?”
You could hear her shrug over the line. “Guess you’ll have to ask him.”
Wooyoung chimed in from over Jihyo’s shoulder. “Besides, what’s the worst thing that can happen, anyway? You find out if the sex is good, and then he stops showing up at your apartment without permission?”
You pinched your nose between your thumb and forefinger. “Neither of you are helpful,” you said.
Hours after the call, however, you couldn’t help but admit that Wooyoung’s words were true. This was a sexual attraction. Yunho was sexy. He had a confusing charm to him that you never understood, and a contagious smile. He was goofy, good at video games, and fun to bicker with—but you didn’t really know him, did you?
So you decided that’s what the date would be for.
You’d get to know him. Decide exactly what you wanted. And if that was just sex, well. There wasn’t anything wrong with that, right? Maybe fucking him would get him out of your head, too. Though, you had a feeling that probably wouldn’t be the case.
By the time eight o’clock rolled around, you were standing in your bedroom, looking in the floor-length mirror, still attempting to determine exactly which outfit was right for the date.
You’d never been this nervous for a date before.
It was just a date. Yunho was just a man.
The knock at the door, however, sent your heart into your stomach—so maybe you were just lying to yourself. Either way, it wasn’t working.
You smoothed your hands down the front of your shirt, over the sides of your skirt. Was there time to change? He was on the other side of the door, and still, you didn’t feel exactly right. Almost like you were wearing a costume, something to impress him, but not something that was really you.
The nerves were getting to you, and all you had to do was just open the door.
Open the door, and he would be there, staring back at you. You knew exactly what he would look like, too. Leather jacket, permanent smirk curling up the corners of his lips, knowing brown eyes scanning you. It was a comfort, almost, this knowing.
But still, you were frozen.
Like opening the door was some kind of test of your own nature. He was the same, steady. Predictable. But you? Was he on the other side of the door, telling himself the same thing, that you were there—familiar?
What if he didn’t like this version of you? The one who had spent hours trying to figure out how to look just right, for him. The one wearing a skirt, the one who was excited about the date, who had gotten her hopes up.
What if he had only ever liked you because you didn’t like him?
You rubbed your temples, trying to quiet the ever-existing anxiety that stirred behind your eyes, a reminder that this was something you fucking cared about, which only made the whole thing worse. You cared, which meant you could screw it up. You could screw it up, and it would hurt.
“You gonna open the door?” Yunho asked from the hall. He had this weird ability to read your mind, to sense when you were nearby. Like he knew some part of you that even you couldn’t see.
You opened the door halfway through an eye roll.
And there he was.
He looked nothing like you’d imagined in your head. His leather jacket was missing, replaced by a black suit jacket with a white button-up underneath, a skinny black tie cut down the middle. Though you could barely see his torso behind the bouquet of flowers he held in one arm.
Yunho’s eyes stayed glued to yours. They didn’t wander, as yours did. But that slow smile did crawl across his lips as you took him in, this different version of him.
“Are those for me?” you asked, looking at the arrangement of tulips and baby’s breath.
He took a step closer to you, dropping his free hand around your shoulders to place a kiss atop your head, into your hair. It was immediately overwhelming, being in his presence again, especially after so many hours of trying to pretend that he had no effect on you.
Well, there that effect was. The way your heart immediately beat faster, your nervous system racing into high alert, goosebumps rising on your forearms. You would think that something was truly wrong, the way your body reacted. Like this was something to run away from. But coupled with the feeling of ignition—the warmth of him being close started a fire somewhere deep within you—there was no chance you would run away.
“Do you have a vase I can put these in?” he said, answering your arguably dumb question as he took a step away from you.
You moved out of the way, letting him step into your apartment. A place familiar to him. Some place he’d basically broken into over and over again. He moved through it like it belonged to him, walking into the kitchen to grab a vase from under the sink. He filled it with water and placed the bouquet inside, leaving it on the counter.
“You seem nervous,” he commented as he trimmed away the plastic wrapping with a pair of scissors he’d also known the location of.
Your arms were crossed over your chest, not in disappointment or contempt, but because you had to hold onto something to steady yourself. Your fingers dug into your biceps only slightly, but he must have caught that, too.
Or maybe he was just so used to the inner workings of your mind, your body, that he could sense these differences too.
You had no idea he paid so much attention.
“I’m not,” you said. But even a stranger would have known you were lying.
He peeled away the rest of the crinkling plastic and put it in the trash, snipping the rubber band on the bouquet and letting the flowers fall outward.
“They’re pretty,” you said, as if that could distract from your nerves and his commentary on them. “Thank you.”
You kept your distance from him, standing just outside the kitchen while he worked. But once finished, he strode toward you again. He stopped just short, not opting to reach for you, just looking.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “You sure you’re okay?”
You cleared your throat as you nodded. “Mhm.”
He could only chuckle under his breath. You were standing so straight, holding yourself so tightly. He did reach out, then, peeling one of your hands away from your arm to hold it. He laced his fingers between yours.
Yunho’s hands were large and warm, and they didn’t serve to ground you any.
Oh god. What was happening to you?
You tried to remind yourself of everything you’d said earlier. This was just a date. Yunho was just a man. A really, really fucking hot man. And a man who drove you absolutely insane. A man who knew how to kiss.
“You ready to go?” he asked, eyes flicked downward, watching your joined hands. He couldnt’t believe it either—was just better at keeping his cool—that this was actually happening. That you’d agreed to it.
“Yes,” you said, and the pair of you walked out of your apartment together. He made eyes at you in the elevator.
Were you both thinking about the same thing? The upward quirk of his smile was enough to make you think yes.
“You are nervous,” Yunho commented as the doors to the lobby slid open.
“Shut up,” you said. “I’m not.”
He held his free hand up in defense. “Not a very nice way to talk to your date.”
You shot a glare in his direction, but it wasn’t very threatening when paired with the smile gracing your lips.
He squeezed your hand. “Why?”
“Why, what?” you asked.
“Why are you nervous?”
“I’m not nervous,” you said again, but this time the pointed look was from him. And frankly, it was deserved. “Shut up,” you said again, as the two of you stepped outside. “I’m not nervous, you’re nervous.”
“I’m a little nervous,” he said.
He kept your hand in his as you walked. He didn’t tell you where you were going, and you didn’t ask.
“What?” you asked. “The Jeong Yunho, nervous? Haven’t you done this like a million times?”
“Yeah, but never with you,” he said, which only made heat rise to your cheeks.
You were still not used to this version of Yunho. The charming one. The complement to the snarky asshole who’s been appearing in your apartment for the past several months.
“Where are you taking me, anyway?” you asked, diverting the conversation from compliments that made your skin turn pink.
“We’re almost there,” he said.
There were so many other questions flying through your head, but it was so much harder to form words around him, now. It was easier before, when all those words were full of frustration and anger, when you were making fun of him or reacting to his torment. When he was being kind to you, it only left you speechless and on uneven footing.
Thankfully, he was right. In only a few minutes of walking, you arrived at a small Italian bistro. A place you’d seen a hundred times on walks home from work, but never stopped into. It wasn’t exactly a bartender’s salary kind of place, unless you wanted to blow an entire month’s food budget on delicious gnocchi. Which, honestly, you’d thought about plenty of times before.
Booths lined the walls with tables in the center, spread out and quiet, each with its own warm candlelight in the middle, its own dangling chandelier in the center. The tables were preset with wine glasses and cutlery.
He gave his name at the host stand, and the two of you followed her to a table. Yunho’s hand settled on your lower back as you walked.
Only the thin layer of your shirt stopped the electricity from knocking you out, dulling it to a mild spark instead. You slid into a booth opposite him.
The host rattled off some wine specials.
“Whatever you suggest,” Yunho said, smiling warmly at the woman.
She disappeared momentarily, then returned with a bottle of red wine with a name you didn’t know how to pronounce. She filled up your glasses, then left the bottle behind.
“So,” Yunho said, picking up his glass to look at you over it. “I should have said this already, but you look really nice tonight.”
“Don’t,” you said, a knee-jerk reaction to his complimenting. “I mean—”
“You know this is a date, right?” he teased. “You agreed to go on a date with me.”
You laughed under your breath, covering your mouth with your hand. “Sorry,” you said, trying not to laugh. “Still trying to get used to you being like this.”
“Like what?” he asked, one brow raised.
“Oh, come on. You know like what,” you fired back. You lifted your glass of wine too and took a small sip. It was delicious. Deep and dry.
He set his wine glass down and leaned slightly forward with both elbows on the table, trying to get closer to you. He tilted his head to the side, watching you curiously. “I don’t,” he said.
“All charming and nice,” you said.
“I think I’ve always been charming and nice,” Yunho said.
You shake your head, taking another sip of your wine to hide the fact that the smile won’t fade from your lips—that being around him made you smile, now. “That’s not true, and you know it, Yunho.”
“I don’t know what you mean.”
“Please,” you said. “You can’t pretend that for the last several months you haven’t been trying to get on my last nerve.”
He pursed his lips like he was really, actually taking the time to think about it. “Maybe I just like getting you all hot and bothered,” he said, finally.
“Wasn’t hot,” you said. “Just bothered.”
“And now?” Yunho asked, leaning even further over the table, as if making direct eye contact would allow him to glean every secret you ever had.
“Still just bothered, I think,” you teased, lifting your glass to your lips.
Yunho leaned back in his seat, picking up his own glass and smiling smugly to himself. “I do like a challenge.”
When the waitress came over to ask about starting courses, you were still looking at one another, like you were both trying to place exactly what was going on, exactly what all of it meant. Yunho looked at you like he was trying to read your mind, trying to figure out what you thought about him, and you looked at him like you were trying to piece together a complex puzzle, trying to figure out what he wanted from you.
It was Yunho who broke eye contact first, who glanced over at the waitress, who ordered a few starters for the table.
When she walked away, you were still looking at him, watching. Studying, almost. Like you could glean something in the way he talked to others, in whether he chose bruschetta or burrata.
“So,” he said, lowering his empty glass back to the table.
“So,” you mirrored.
It occurred to you then that you knew almost nothing about him, aside from the fact that he liked video games and coffee. Aside from what his mouth felt like against yours.
You engaged in tense, short, small talk for a little while, until the food came out. How work had been for you, what he’d been up to with his time. Trying to get to know each other even a little bit more. It all came back to pointed glances and tension—both of you guarded against something. Not each other, really, but refusing to let the other in.
Yunho didn’t give much away about himself, only continued asking about you. And you could only tease him in response. Keeping him at a distance by pushing back, instead.
As the wine levels lowered, so did your defenses.
“Is this how it usually goes for you?” you asked, finishing off your second glass of wine while you waited for his answer. He didn’t speak immediately, so you clarified. “Like, on all your dates, is this usually how things go?”
“I don’t know where you got this idea that I go on tons of dates,” he said.
It only served to stun you. Because—where else would you have gotten that information, aside from the obvious? By living next door. By kicking out said dates the next morning.
“I mean—” you started.
“Your impression of me,” he said. “It’s wrong. You think I’m this ladies man, right?” He laughed like he couldn’t even say the words with a straight face. “I’m really not.”
“Oh, please,” you said, because you knew that to be false. You’d met the women. Spoken with them.
He chuckled under his breath. “Just because they were at my house didn’t mean I went out on dates with them. You know that, right? That you don’t have to go on a date with someone to get into bed with them?” He raised a brow in such a suggestive way that you choked on your saliva.
“I know that,” you said. Even though it didn’t really occur to you that he wasn’t actually dating anyone.
“This is the first date I’ve been on in over a year,” he said, offering up something about himself completely unprompted. “So I don’t know how it’s going, really. My date seems a little tense. A little nervous, even though she doesn’t want to admit it.”
“You haven’t been on a date in over a year?” you asked, lingering on the details. “But you’re so—” you started, then realized you had no idea how to finish the sentence. What? Active?
“Let’s just get this conversation over with,” Yunho said, a bit of tension appearing in the crease between his brows. He didn’t want to talk about this, didn’t want to draw attention to it. But you were so obviously curious, and it was so easy to do anything when it was what you wanted.
“No,” you said, holding a hand up. “It’s okay, really. I shouldn’t have assumed anything.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “It makes sense why you did. The women I’ve been with, they knew what I was looking for. I didn’t trick them or make them think I was looking for a relationship when I wasn’t. We met at bars or clubs or on dating apps. I didn’t date any of them.”
“Okay,” you said.
“So, I guess I’m kind of rusty,” he said. “When it comes to stuff like this.”
You laughed. “You’re not rusty at all,” you said. “You’re charming. You’ve always been charming.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah,” you said. “Like, annoyingly so.”
He looked down at the table, but not before you caught the slight blush appearing on his cheeks. Had you actually made Yunho blush?
“I think that makes you the experienced dater in the situation, then,” Yunho said.
This, too, made you laugh. Because if there was anything you didn’t have experience with, it was dating. All of your dates had ended—with a fizzle and certainly without a bang. Your track record over the past year or two was mostly boring. Boring men who didn’t make you laugh. Boring men who you couldn’t bicker playfully with. Men who wanted more from you than you had to give. Or not enough.
“I don’t know about that,” you said. Then, “Maybe we’re both losers.”
A bright smile crossed his lips. “Yeah,” he said. “Maybe.”
The rest of the dinner went by without as much tension. You learned a few little bits of information about one another. Where he grew up. What you studied in school. What your favorite drink to make at work was.
“Do you like it?” he asked, refilling your wine when a new bottle appeared at the table seemingly out of nowhere. “Your job?”
You shrugged. “Most of the time, yes.” You took a small sip. “I like the people. The regulars are mostly cool. And I get this glimpse into people’s lives that I don’t think I could get anywhere else. I only get to see what they want to show me. What they tell me about their day, or whatever baggage they bring to the counter. I like that.”
“Is what they say about bartenders really true?” he asked. “Do people tell you their life stories, their secrets?”
“Sometimes,” you said. “Depends on the person, and how many drinks they’ve had. Most people keep to themselves, but I have a few regulars who like to talk.”
“You’re kind of fascinating, you know that?” he asked.
“What?” you said, exhaling a short laugh.
“When I moved in down the hall, you were headed out somewhere with Wooyoung and Jihyo—”
You interrupted him. “No, that’s okay, you don’t have to—”
“Why?” he asked. “I like this story.”
You put your hands over your face like you could hide from it, from your own actions several months ago.
“You walked right over to me and introduced yourself. I thought that was pretty cool.”
Really? Because you had recounted that interaction several times in the hours afterward, convinced that you had made a complete ass out of yourself, convinced that you were the lamest person in the entire world.
“Do you remember what you said to me?” he asked.
“No,” you said. Even though you obviously did. Even though you knew exactly the words you’d said.
Yunho smiled. “That I could come over any time if I needed something. That you were excited to have a cool, new neighbor.”
You hid your face behind your hands again. “God, that’s so lame.”
“I thought it was cute.”
“You did not,” you said.
He took a sip of his wine, eyes not leaving yours as he did. Heat rose to your cheeks, and you were certain that this embarrassment was going to kill you.
“And then you came over whenever you wanted for the rest of forever,” you said. “Just to bother me.”
He laughed again. “I came over because I thought you were cute.”
“I thought you were just trying to get away from the girls in your apartment.”
“Yeah,” he said. “Because they weren’t you.”
You rolled your eyes at him because it was such a line. So something he would say to get what he wanted, to make a girl blush, or make them want him. It was probably something he said to those girls in the bar, to get them to come home with him. Not that he probably had to say much of anything at all. His appearance could do most of the talking.
“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he said. “I’m being honest here.”
“You are not,” you said.
His eyebrows raised at your blatant dismissal. “Just because you don’t want to believe me doesn’t make it untrue.”
“Yunho, be serious.”
“I am being serious,” he said. “None of those girls meant anything to me. They knew it. I knew it.”
“How charming,” you said.
“Are you going to keep judging me for this, or can we move on?” he asked, straight-faced, just as blatant as your words. It must have been the alcohol, making you both so free to talk about what you were really thinking.
“I’m not judging you for sleeping around. I don’t care about your sex life, Yunho. I really don’t,” you said. “You just can’t expect me to believe that you were thinking about me the whole time. I mean, we didn’t even know each other.”
“I know you wake up at ten on weekdays and eleven on weekends. I know you record more reality TV than any sane person probably should. I know that you like coffee and you hate tea. I know you make a really good old-fashioned. I know you like people. I know you’re kind, but you don’t take people’s shit.”
It was all true.
“And I know I think about you when you aren’t around. I know that I’m not good enough for you even on my best days.”
“That’s not true,” you said. “You’re good.”
“Is that why you rejected me?” he asked.
“No,” you said. “I rejected you because I wanted more than I thought you wanted to give me.”
Something lit up behind his eyes when he smiled.
The rest of the date went on without incident. You returned to small talk. To easier conversation. To more teasing and taunting.
When you finally left, both wine drunk and happy, it was with intertwined hands.
“So nice of you to walk me home,” you joked.
“Well, I am quite the gentleman,” Yunho said.
You laughed under your breath.
“Your place or mine?” you asked as you stepped into the lobby and pressed the button to call the elevator down.
He looked shocked by this. Like he hadn’t been thinking about it all night, what taking you back to his place would be like. Okay, so maybe he had, but that didn’t mean he was going to act on those feelings. No, he wanted to do this right.
He didn’t respond fast enough, and it felt like a rejection.
You played it off. “I just want to make you a drink, Yunho. Don’t be weird,” you said. Even though that wasn’t exactly what you meant. Maybe it meant what he thought it meant. That you were looking for more.
“Your place, then,” he said, trying to keep the smile off his lips with little success.
The elevator doors slipped open, and you both stepped inside.
That same tension returned again. The we-kissed-here tension.
You were both looking at each other. Wine drunk and smiling. You used your intertwined hands to pull him toward you. He took one confident stride closer. When the doors slid open at your floor, his hands were reaching up to touch your arms, that same darkened look in his eyes. The part of his lips, the way his eyes roamed your face, up and down, unable to stop in any one location. He wanted to kiss you.
But he remained that step away, instead letting his knuckles glide along your skin.
You reached out for him, like that first night. Your hands found his lapels as the elevator doors slid closed. You didn’t tug him closer, but just held them.
He leaned down slowly, eyes shifting between your lips and your mouth. Your lips parted, too, and he captured them like it was an invitation.
Kissing him felt just as insane every single time you’d done it. There was the urgency and the fear of the first night, the pretending. And days ago, there had only been tenderness in his investigation. This kiss fell somewhere in the middle.
You could taste the wine on his lips as they moved slowly against yours. He tried to savor every bit of you. But as soon as it was really getting started, he was pulling away, cutting it off.
Then, his hand intertwined with yours again. He hit a button to make the elevator doors open again, and he led you down the hall, toward your place.
You wanted to reach for him again, wanted to drag him down for another kiss. But his expression looked like steel. He didn’t look at you, but instead forward at the door while you dug around for your keys. Even when you tried to steal a glance, he didn’t meet it.
But he let you lead him into your apartment, and once you were inside, he removed his jacket, placing it on the back of one of your chairs. You went to the kitchen, and he followed you, wrapping his arms low around your waist so he could rest his chin on your shoulder.
It was so domestic that it made your teeth hurt like you were sucking on a sweet candy.
“What do you like to drink?” you asked. “Do you actually like an old-fashioned, or were you just trying to piss me off?”
He chuckled in your ear, low and melodic, his breath curling against the shell of your ear. “I like them.”
“But are they your favorite?” you asked.
“I don’t know if I have a favorite,” he said.
“Everyone has a favorite,” you said.
“What’s yours?” he asked. “That’s what I want.”
You weren’t going to be able to make anyone anything if he kept holding onto you like that, kept whispering in your ear.
“I like, um,” you started. “Mai tais. Rum-based drinks in general.”
“Rum sounds good,” he said.
You took a step forward, and his arms fell away from you. You collected a few things from the counter, moving them over to the place next to the sink. Yunho stayed close, watching you work as you sliced and juiced a lime. He watched as you filled a shaker with ice and added the ingredients. He watched you shake it, then strain the contents over ice in a lowball glass. He watched as you carefully placed a few cherries atop the drink next to a lime wheel.
“Wait,” you said. “Finishing touch.” You dug around in a drawer and found a tiny umbrella, which you dropped into the drink for him, before picking it up and handing it to him.
He took a tentative sip, then smiled. “Damn, that’s good.”
“Kind of my specialty,” you said, already starting the process over for yours.
Eventually, the two of you migrated to the couch. You took a seat on the ground, your back to the legs of the couch, your drink on the table adjacent to you. Yunho sat behind you, on the couch itself.
You already had a controller in your hands, and it didn’t take long before Yunho wandered to the other side of the room to pick up another one.
While you scrolled through your available games, he said, “Trying to figure out which game you want to lose at?”
You shook your head, not looking back at him. “Cocky,” you commented. “I think you’ll find I’m better than you think.”
“I play on your account,” he said, which really meant I’ve seen your statistics.
“Okay, so I’m bad at the games you like to play,” you said.
He slipped onto the ground next to you.
“I was thinking something collaborative.”
You pulled up Overcooked and watched as he rolled his sleeves up.
“It’s that serious?” you asked, teasingly.
He laughed. “It’s incredibly serious.”
You both finished your drinks and played into the middle of the night, yelling at each other about vegetables and recipes.
It was nearly three in the morning when your eyes started to get heavy, when your head started to hurt, the hangover starting. You leaned your head against his shoulder, letting your eyes fall closed. Neither of you moved for a long time. At some point, his hand came up to stroke long lines into your hair. And when you did, finally, fall asleep like that, he scooped you up and carried you to bed.
He peeled back the covers and deposited you there, pulling them back up around your body afterward. He pressed a kiss into your hair and disappeared.
When you woke up the next morning, it was to an empty apartment. When you wandered into the living room, there were no empty mai tai glasses to be found, no dishes from your late-night cocktail crafting. Everything was clean and put away.
You had no choice but to call Jihyo.
When she answered, it was not with a hello but with the immediate, important questions. “Oh my god, how was it?”
You kicked your feet up on the coffee table, leaned back with arms crossed over your chest, thinking.
“You’re up later than usual—does that mean it went really well?” Jihyo asked.
What was this feeling developing in the center of your chest? It couldn’t possibly be disappointment, right? There was nothing wrong with the date. He’d been a perfect gentleman. He’d paid for the meal, walked you home, let you yell at him into the wee hours of the night. He’d even tucked you in and washed your dishes.
But he’d hardly kissed you.
“It was… good,” you said.
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“It wasn’t bad,” you said hastily. “It was really good. It just—I just, I guess I can’t even tell if he really even likes me or not.”
“What do you mean?” she asked.
You shrugged, even though Jihyo couldn’t see it. “We kissed again, but that was it—and he didn’t even seem like, eager to continue.”
“That’s… weird,” was Jihyo’s analysis of the evening. You filled her in on the rest of the fine details. The restaurant, the banter, the moments of tension. “Maybe he’s just being careful?” she suggested. “Like he doesn’t want you to think he just wants you for one thing.”
“Yeah,” you said. “Maybe.”
Jihyo laughed. “So what you’re saying is that it was a really good date, but you’re annoyed he didn’t put out?”
“That’s not what I’m saying,” you said.
“Kind of sounds like what you’re saying.”
“I’m hanging up now,” you said.
And you did.
It wasn’t long before you heard from Yunho again. Before another date was scheduled. Before you were calling Jihyo afterward again to recount the same news. The lack of news. And then it happened again. You were beginning to think the worst, that he didn’t want you. When he pulled away from another kiss on the night of your fourth date, two weeks into whatever it was the two of you were doing together, you threw your hands out in exasperation.
“Is there something wrong with me?” you asked.
He folded his arms over his chest. “Hm?” he asked. Then, what you said must have registered with him. “What do you mean?” He might have teased you if you hadn’t sounded so serious.
You chewed on your bottom lip for a long time, trying to work up the nerve to say the words you really wanted to say.
“I mean,” you started, but the words died on your tongue.
He had to know.
There was no way he didn’t.
He lifted his hand to your face, curled two fingers under your chin, and lifted, making you hold his gaze. His eyes were sharp, brown, drowning in blown-out pupils.
“Do you even still like me?” you asked, getting the words out. They weren’t exactly the right words, but the right words made your stomach turn. Even these ones made your heart beat faster, made your fingers twitch. Because it felt so stupid to be asking. Obviously, he liked you.
And he laughed.
Because, of course, he laughed.
It was a stupid fucking question.
“Of course, I like you,” he said, still holding your chin, still looking at you. Something knowing crossed his features, then, and you wished he would just confirm your worries without you having to actually speak them aloud.
“Then why don’t you want me?” you asked, voice small and timid.
His hand moved to the side of your face, his fingers dipping into your hair, holding you. “You think that I don’t want you?” he asked.
“I mean, it’s the only reasonable explanation,” you stammered, heat rushing to your cheeks.
“It’s not reasonable,” Yunho said.
Then, he dropped his hand from your face, slipping his palm into yours instead. He tugged you toward his door, away from your apartment—where he was previously dropping you off for the evening. You don’t even remember what his excuse had been. Something about having to work in the morning.
You let him lead you down the hall, toward his apartment. You would have followed him anywhere. He didn’t speak, just walked with you trailing behind. The short distance felt so much longer when you had to cross it without knowing what was on his mind.
As soon as you were inside, the door closed behind you, and he had you pressed against it, the cold metal interior, the doorknob just to the side of your hip. He didn’t kiss you. Just held you caged between his arms, elbows next to your shoulder, forearms resting against the door next to your head.
You cleared your throat. Breathing felt like an impossibility, like all of the air had been sucked fully and totally out of the room, with his face so close to yours, his eyes studying every movement you made.
“What were you saying?” you asked, voice just above a whisper. “About it being unreasonable?”
He ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his cheek, and it was so much hotter than it had any reason to be.
How high did he keep the heat in his apartment? Why did it feel like you were absolutely drenched in sweat? Your hands were clammy, your fingers tense at your side. You didn’t touch him, even though you wanted to. You weren’t afraid of being rejected. You knew that wasn’t what this was, exactly. But you were too curious to move.
Curious about what he would do—what he wanted.
Yunho shifted his weight, pressing against the door with one arm, in order to lean slightly back, to run the pads of his pointer and middle finger along your jawline. Your eyes stayed locked on his, watching him as he followed the movement of his hand. They flicked back to you, dark and deep. He cleared his throat, parted his soft, almost heart-shaped lips, to speak.
“I was trying,” he started, voice still gravely despite his attempt at clearing it. “To be a gentleman.”
Your lips formed into an oh, and you swallowed thick, trying to gather the confidence to say the next thing. To make the words known. “You don’t have to be.”
His fingers stilled on your jaw, and his dark brown eyes—overflowing with want—caught yours. You tried to keep your gaze neutral, but you could tell by the way he was looking at you that it wasn’t a success.
One corner of his lips quirked up first, just before the smirk drew across his face. Brows slightly raised, eyes inquisitive.
He was still so close to you, leaning in just an inch away from your lips. You could have closed the distance if you wanted to, but there was something appealing about this game the two of you had started playing the moment the door to his apartment closed. Like it was something tangible between the two of you that could be grabbed at any moment, but you both tiptoed around it, careful and curious.
Yunho’s hand fell to your neck, his knuckles dragged downward, skittering over your pulse and making your heart beat faster.
“So jumpy,” he said. “How long have you been thinking about this?” he asked. “About saying something?”
Your lips parted, but the confidence in your brain didn’t meet the confidence of the real-life situation, couldn’t face the way he was looking at you. Words died on your tongue, and he looked at you like he could see the entire process. Your struggling only made his smirk more proud.
“Really interesting,” he said, voice still low and gravely, but soft—too. A tool he used for inspection. “I was trying to be a gentleman for you, and you were thinking about—what?” he asked.
Your breath caught in your throat as he lowered his lips to the edge of your ear. You tried to collect your thoughts, tried to figure out how to navigate this new situation. This was the Yunho you were more familiar with. The one who poked and prodded at you. Who teased you in the living room, who was downright difficult.
It was the gentlemanly version of him that you’d been unfamiliar with, that you didn’t know quite how to handle.
“Oh, now she’s quiet,” he commented. “You had so much to say not even five minutes ago.”
“Five minutes ago, you didn’t have me pressed up against a wall,” you said, trying to steady your voice into something that sounded any semblance of calm, even if you didn’t feel it.
He slipped his hand into your hair at the base of your neck. “How long have you been thinking about it?” he asked.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said, tilting your head up as you ran your tongue over your lower lip.
Yunho laughed dryly under his breath. “Is that right?”
“That’s right,” you repeated.
“I was going to be so nice to you, baby,” Yunho whispered, breath curling against your ear. “Was going to treat you so good, too. Now, I’m not sure you deserve it.”
Your mouth fell open.
“What?” he asked, pulling back to look at you, to read the shock running its way across your face. “You want to play pretend now—pretend you haven’t been thinking about it, pretend you didn’t just ask. I can play, too.”
“I just—” you start. “You weren’t—”
“What wasn’t I doing?” he asked, one brow quirked upward. He wanted actual, tangible answers.
The way he spoke made everything in your brain stop working. All the lights turned off, and it was just fizzling, crackling energy left behind. Nothing that converted the thoughts into words. You were left just staring at him, mouth opening for a moment before your lips pressed together again.
Yunho was patient. He didn’t speak. Just kept his hand laced through your hair, kept that same look leveled on you. It didn’t help, but it certainly didn’t hurt, either.
“Let’s recap,” he said after a moment. “You asked me why I don’t want you. Which, I’m not sure where you got that idea, but that’s not important. And I asked you how long you’ve been thinking about this. And what was it that you said?” he asked. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A small smile crept across your lips in delight at the way he spoke, the way his words got faster the more irritated he got with trying to figure you out. It was nice to be the one to get under his skin for once.
He shook his head in disbelief, but you could see the hint of a smile on his lips, too. He was enjoying this just as much as you were, this back and forth.
“I don’t,” you said, a proud smile on your lips now. “Know what you’re talking about.”
He exhaled through his nose, almost a laugh.
“You know if you keep playing innocent, you’re not going to get what you want. What we both know you want,” he said.
You pressed your lips into a pout. He couldn’t resist. He removed his hand from your hair and touched the center of your lower lip with the pad of his thumb, dragging gently downward. “You don’t have to pout,” he said. “Just tell me how long you’ve been thinking about it—and don’t lie.”
Speaking didn’t appeal to you. Instead, you parted your lips around his thumb and leaned just slightly forward so the pad landed flat atop your tongue.
He did it again, ran the tip of his tongue along the inside of his cheek in an attempt to mask his frustration. He hummed, a disapproving sound laced with something else. Like he enjoyed it, but didn’t want to indulge.
“That’s not going to work on me, beautiful,” he said, pulling his thumb slowly out of your mouth. He dropped his hand to the space right below your neck, holding it ever-so-gently. He leaned in slowly, so his lips were only a fraction from yours.
Your body reacted before you could stop it, leaning slightly forward to try to capture his lips. He pulled back, holding you firm against the door with one hand. “Ah, ah,” he said.
“You don’t want to kiss me, Yunho?” you asked, pouting. “I mean, I kind of got that impression on our dates, but I thought maybe I was wrong.”
He ran his tongue over his gums, just under his lower lip, and you could tell you were driving him insane, too.
But you kept going. “If you don’t really want me, I could just go home,” you said.
“Never said that,” he said. He took one of your hands, hanging useless at your side, and placed it atop the taut material and the hard length underneath it, lowering his lips to your ear again to whisper, “I want you, but not before you tell me what I want to hear.”
He didn’t hold your hand to him, but yours lingered, regardless. You moved your palm against him, and he worked hard to keep his expression neutral, to not break immediately underneath your touch. After a few moments, he pulled your hand away, holding it tight in his.
“Come on, baby,” he said. “How long?” The tip of his nose ran along the shell of your ear, and you shuddered under the sensation. Goosebumps rose on your forearms, and the heat of the apartment had only increased. “How long were you thinking about this while I was focused on treating you right, being a gentleman?”
He kissed the hinge of your jaw. “I just want to know how long it took,” he said, pressing another kiss lower, along your jawline. “Was it the first date?” he asked. “Or the second?” Another kiss, this time at the top of your neck. You angled your head away from him, giving him better access. He didn’t comment, but you could feel the pride tug at the corner of his lips. “You must have been really frustrated to ask.” He dragged his teeth downward, then bit gently. “Were you frustrated?”
All the bravado disappeared, and you were left, mouth open, victim to his ministrations, trying to figure out exactly how you could argue against this idea that you had been thinking about him like this nonstop for the past two weeks.
You could no longer find a good reason to continue frustrating him.
“The night you drove me home,” you said, your voice just above a whisper, like it was embarrassing to admit. His smile grew against your skin in an instant.
“Mmm,” he hummed against your skin. “The kiss in the elevator really did it for you?”
“No,” you said, like it was an instinct to shut him down.
He only chuckled into the crook of your neck.
“Is this what I have to look forward to?” he asked. “You being a brat?”
“No,” you said, cocky smile across your face.
“I’m gonna kiss you now,” he said, exasperation seeping into his words, seconds before his lips were on yours. You were all talk. The moment his lips touched yours, you came alive against him. It was a taste of what you wanted, and you immediately didn’t want it to end. You pushed away from the door, letting your arms fall over his shoulders as you pressed your body into his. His hands fell to your waist, then slid around to your back, holding you against him.
Yeah, sure. Maybe you were impatient. Maybe you’d been thinking about this for weeks. Maybe you didn’t want him to know just how much you’d been thinking about it, how much your body absolutely craved his. But when your hands dropped to the buttons of his shirt, he didn’t complain. He didn’t make you stop to recite the answers to any questions.
He just smiled against your lips, proud, like he’d won something.
Your fingers grazed his bare skin as you worked further down. He deepened the kiss, angling forward as he tilted your head back, slipping his tongue between your lips. Yunho’s fingers dug into the cloth covering your hips, and your fingers stalled on his shirt. You reached for his skin instead, wanting to touch anything you could. You put one hand flat on his chest, but he was quick to loop a hand around your wrist and pull it away.
“Hey,” you mumbled into his lips.
He gave no response, only laced his fingers through the hand he’d stolen and pinned it back against the door as he continued to kiss you, running his tongue along yours.
“Tell me to stop, and I will,” he said, breaking apart from your mouth, breaths ragged, forehead touching yours. “At anytime,” he said.
You nodded, but remained silent. Hoping for the continuation of whatever he was doing, his lips on your again, his hands exploring your body. Any of it. You didn’t care. You’d take what he was willing to give. You might even say thank you.
He kissed you again, dragging your lower lip into his mouth as his fingers inched toward the hem of your shirt. One hand snuck underneath it. His knuckles grazed your bare stomach, and you jumped. He smiled into the kiss, and you rolled your eyes, even though he couldn’t see it.
“You sure you’re going to be okay?” he asked, muttering the words against you between kisses. “I’m barely touching you.”
“I’m fine,” you hissed. His lips found the column of your neck again, however, and you began to question the declaration.
He chuckled again, letting the sound reverberate through you as his fingers climbed further up your abdomen.
Your head lolled backward, resting against the door behind you, the rest of your body arched forward into him.
“You give up on the shirt?” he asked, eyes glancing between the two of you, to the few buttons holding his shirt together.
“No,” you said.
His hand still held one of yours pinned to the door. You reached between your bodies with your free one and worked on the button. It kept slipping free from your fingers at the same time as your soft moans. He bit your pulse point, sucking your skin into his mouth gently at first and then harder. Your lids fluttered closed, and the fabric fell out of your hand again.
“Come on,” he said.
His other hand slipped under your bra, cupping your breast. You almost had the last button done when his thumb ran over your nipple. “Yunho,” you hissed in annoyance.
“Want me to stop?” he asked, lifting his lips from your neck just enough to catch your gaze, his thumb still moving back and forth across your nipple inconsistently, making it impossible to get used to.
“It would be easier,” you said. “If I could use my other hand.”
“Huh,” he said. “That’s too bad.” Then, he dropped his lips to your neck again, kissing lower, grazing them along the length of your collarbone.
You finally did get the last button, then used your one free hand to attempt to push the fabric back off his shoulders. You tugged against his hand, trying to free yourself from the grip. He held firm, didn’t even so much as budge. But he felt your attempt, and that had him grinning.
“Need help?” he asked.
“Nope,” you said. You had most of his chest revealed, and that was good enough for you. You reached out for it, running just the tips of your fingers down the center. He didn’t stop you this time, letting you explore him.
He released your hand then, only for his own benefit, to grab the hem of your shirt with both hands and lift it up and over your head.
You stood apart for a second, looking at one another. His eyes fell to your chest, your cleavage. His tongue flicked out to wet his lower lip. You were too busy getting the rest of his shirt off to notice the way he looked at you.
The break only lasted a moment, but it might as well have been an eternity of not touching one another. Of studying what was before you and wanting it. You both seized forward at the same time, your lips colliding as hands roamed over bodies. Yours found his shoulders, slid down his arms over his biceps, then back up. His went to your waist, around to your back. One fiddled with the strap of your bra before unhooking it in a swift motion.
He didn’t break the kiss, just took a half-step back as he pulled the straps off your shoulders and down. Once your bra was on the floor in the growing pile of clothes next to you, he pulled away again to look at you. His lips were on your skin again in no time, working downward as his hand moved upward. He rolled one nipple between thumb and forefinger as he kissed a circle around the other.
Your body tensed under his ministrations, and you were certain this man was going to be the absolute death of you with his knowing looks and his slow touches. Heat started in your stomach and dripped dangerously low at every caress. But you tried to keep your cool, tried to handle it. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being putty in his hands.
Yunho hummed a sound of happiness as he sucked, flicking your nipple with his tongue. Your hands threaded into his hair.
His hands fell to your pants, unbuttoning the top button. “Take these off,” he said, and you finished the job, stepping out of them as he kissed back upward, taking his time. His fingers teased at the waistband of your underwear.
You sucked in a breath, hot and sharp between your teeth. The door pressed cold lines into your back, and Yunho’s fingertips continued to flutter atop the band, teasing. The heat of the moment and the cold of the metal did not grant you equilibrium but only contributed to the building feeling of overstimulation that you know he would absolutely revel in if he could read your mind.
Maybe he could read your mind, because he smirked against your skin for at least the tenth time in so many minutes, and you were starting to think he knew every nasty thought you’d ever had.
It was a stalemate, because you knew that he wanted you restless. He wanted you begging. But you didn’t want to voice another word, another request, didn’t want to do what he told you to do. Unfortunately, you also really wanted him to slip his fingers lower.
He watched you, too, like he knew you were making this calculation.
He placed his hand across your stomach as he leaned forward to whisper in your ear. “Just say it,” he whispered. “I know you want to.”
He lifted your chin with his fingers as he pulled back, meeting your eyes. His eyes were dark and heavy, full of clear desire. The word no died on your tongue.
But neither did he wait for you to ask. He held your eye contact as he moved his hand between your thighs, humming as he ran the pads of his fingers along your clothed slit. “Nice and wet for me, hm?”
He pushed your underwear to the side, dragged his middle finger through your folds, and then slipped it inside of you to the knuckle.
“See, I can be nice,” he said.
You choked on a gasp and tried to let your head fall back against the door, but he held your chin firm, keeping his eyes on you. He moved his finger slowly as you adjusted. His eyes traced your expression, the subtle part of your lips, the way your eyes rolled slightly backward. And you studied his, too. The hooded gaze as he watched you, the way his smirk got cockier every time you reacted to the movement.
There was no escaping his careful eye. He caught every soundless gasp, every subtle movement.
He liked you like this, falling apart and trying to keep yourself together at the same time. Not wanting to give in to him, but wanting everything he had to give. He liked teasing it out of you, that desire.
Your lids fluttered closed as he stroked just the right spot, curling his finger to meet it.
“Eyes open,” he said. His voice was firm, but not sharp. Commanding in a gentle kind of way.
It didn’t make you want to listen.
“Or what?” you challenged, eyes still closed.
“Or I’ll stop,” he said. And he did.
Your eyes flew open, and he couldn’t help the breathy laugh that fell off his lips.
“You’re trying so hard, baby, but your body keeps giving you away,” Yunho said, a hair away from your lips, before he kissed you.
He slipped another finger inside of you at the same time, and your body arched forward, your hands reaching for something to hold onto and finding his shoulders with ease. You groaned into his mouth, both at the feeling and his words.
“God,” you moaned, breaking away from his lips to catch your breath. He didn’t go far, instead dropping his lips to your neck, biting and sucking at your skin until you felt like you were melting. You rolled your hips against his hand, wanting more, and he gave it without a word. His thumb ran over your clit, sending a shudder through your body. “Yunho, oh my god,” you muttered, hands digging into his shoulders.
It was all too much. His teeth on your neck, his fingers moving fast inside you, curling, and his thumb running circles over your clit at a pace that made everything ache.
“That feel good, baby?” he asked, voice gravely, breath hot on your neck.
He didn’t slow his pace, so you could barely voice the words you wanted to say. All that came out was a breathy, “Don’t stop.”
And he was smirking again, running his tongue over your pulse before whispering, “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Your hips kept rolling into his fingers, but he managed to keep the dizzing pressure on your clit as you squirmed. He took a step into you, pressing you up against the door again. One of his legs snuck between yours, and he used his upper thigh to hold you in place.
He had you on the edge, about to teeter over, every muscle in your body so tense you were almost shaking.
Then, he did exactly what he said he wouldn’t. He stopped. He dragged his fingers out of you slow, removed his thumb from your clit, and met your eyes. He struggled to keep your gaze, his eyes falling to your heaving chest as you tried to catch your breath.
You groaned and tried to let your head fall back against the door, but he caught it, holding you forward by the neck.
“Aw, you don’t like being teased, baby?” he asked, looking down his nose at you.
You whimpered, moving your hips against his thigh in search of something. He only pinned you harder, keeping you from moving at all.
He lifted his hand, slick with you, and tapped your lower lip. “Open,” he said.
Your lips fell open, and he placed both of his fingers on the flat of your tongue. You closed your lips around them. He pressed down on your tongue, and you licked from the base of his finger to the tip without breaking the very direct eye contact he made with you.
“Look at that,” he said. “You can follow directions.”
You rolled your eyes and bit down gently on his fingers. He hooked his fingertips just behind your teeth and pulled you forward.
“Mm,” he hummed. “I think I like you like this—unable to talk back.”
You ran your tongue over his fingers again, tried to move your hips again, chasing anything that would give you any kind of satisfaction now that fire danced over every inch of your skin, where he touched you and where he didn’t.
He pulled his fingers from your mouth slowly as you licked them clean. He replaced his fingers with his tongue, lips crashing into yours—hungrier than before. The entire length of his body pressed up against you, anchoring you in place. You could hardly move between him and the wall, except to reach for him, to grip his arms tight in a grounding kind of way.
He took a step away from you, dragging his lips from yours like it was the hardest decision he’d ever made. Then, he was grabbing your hand, pulling you deeper into his apartment, past the kitchen, through the living room, toward his bedroom.
You’d been here before, seen these places before. You’d stalked through his apartment, looking for your fake boyfriend in order to drive off the women he’d slept with, you’d sat on his couch post-date, talking into the late hours of the night.
The place seemed different now. His bedroom a completely new world. You’d only seen it in the aftermath, or with another woman sprawled out across it, waiting for his return. It was pristine now, the bed made with crisp sheets and a comfortable atop it. Pillows stacked in front of the headboard.
He guided you toward the edge of the bed, and you sat while he towered over you, hands lowering to his belt. You watched with rapt attention, tongue running between your lips. He undid his belt buckle, then the top button of his pants. He worked slowly—slower because he could tell you were watching, waiting.
Yunho let his pants fall to his ankles. He stepped out of them, and your hands shot out, touching his abdomen but trailing downward for more. You were so interested, so needy. You’d never wanted anyone as much as you wanted him, right then.
He slipped his hands over yours, and you rolled your eyes before he could open his mouth.
“Ask for it,” he said, looking down at you. That same smirk playing on his lips. You should have known that being with him would be like this, with all the teasing he did outside the bedroom. All the playful glances he always shot in your direction, all the comments he made. It just never occurred to you that he would be so, well, annoying.
Why was it so hot, then? If you were so annoyed, why did his words always make that same heat pool between your legs, always make you want him even more? And why did it drive you absolutely insane anytime he asked you anything?
You pressed your lips into a tight line, determined to be stubborn about this.
“You don’t have to touch me,” he said. “But if you want to—I’m going to need to hear you ask.”
He held your hands tight in his to prevent them from going anywhere.
“You’re—”
“What, baby?” he asked, still looking down at you, not touching you anywhere other than your hands. He cocked his head to the side. “What am I?”
“Bossy,” you said. “And kind of a pain in the ass.”
He laughed, a full, deep one that shook his chest. “You want me to stop?” he asked, lifting one hand to tilt your chin upward. “I could be nice to you, instead. Really nice.”
You hesitated.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he said.
“Shut up,” you said, pushing against his abdomen with your intertwined hands. You grumbled under your breath. You batted your eyelashes at him. “I’d really like to touch you, Yunho. Could I, please?”
He smirked. “Now, I don’t think you really mean that.”
“Oh, should I get on my knees?” you said, that same expression on your face—fluttering eyelashes, like you’d do anything he wanted if he really wanted it.
“Only if you want to, beautiful,” he said. He freed your other hand, too.
You hooked your fingers into the band of his boxers and pulled them down, tongue flicking out to wet your lips as you slid off the edge of the bed and onto your knees in front of him. He watched, silently, one hand coming up to gather your hair away from your face.
One of your hands lifted to wrap around him. He was big, you had to admit. And you couldn’t keep the look off your face. Like you were drunk on want. Like he was all you could possibly think about.
You leaned forward, flattened your tongue against the underside of the tip, eyes flicking up to meet his as you did, watching for a reaction. He didn’t hold back as you did, but let you watch as his lips parted. His hand tightened in your hair, and you gasped as you took him into your mouth—shallow at first, as you got used to the size.
Slowly, you took him deeper.
“Fuck,” he hissed. “You’re so good.”
He rolled his hips once, slow, as he held the back of your head.
“That okay?” he asked, his voice dropping to one much more gentle than how he’d been speaking to you.
You nodded as best you could with your mouth wrapped around his cock.
Another slow roll of his hips, and he was reaching your throat. You dropped your hands from him and looked up. You stopped moving, letting him take control instead. He held the back of your head firm and rolled his hips again and again, a little harder each time.
Each time he hit the back of your throat, your eyes stung. His grip in your hair tightened, and you moaned around him, which only made him thrust into your mouth faster—harder.
Tears stung in the corners of your eyes, but neither of you stopped.
“God,” Yunho hissed again, hips bucking, snapping forward into you one more time before he pulled out fast.
“Get up,” he said, and you stood—no attitude needed.
He wiped the tears from under your eyes, the drool from your mouth, then spun you around and pressed you down, into the mattress. He reached into the drawer next to his bed, ripped open a condom with his teeth, and rolled it on, keeping one hand on your lower back.
He guided the tip of his cock to your entrance and dragged it through your folds. “Still so wet, and I wasn’t even touching you,” he said.
You couldn’t get a single word out. Your face was buried in the bedspread. He pushed just the tip inside of you, and every muscle in your legs went taut, seizing up.
“Relax, baby,” Yunho said, moving forward another inch, reveling in the stretch, the feeling of tightness as you clamped down hard around him. Your hands were already balled into the fabric next to you, your teeth already biting down hard on your bottom lip to keep from whimpering. You pushed back against him, trying to get more.
His hands came up to hold your hips, preventing you from moving. He slid forward another inch, slowly, enough to make you ache.
“Please,” you begged, needing all of him way faster than he was willing to give it.
You could practically hear the smirk appear behind you as he rolled his hips forward into you, filling you up.
A jagged gasp escaped your lips. You could feel him pulsing inside of you, twitching, betraying his resolve. But he didn’t move. He kept one hand on your hip, then ran the other down your spine, making you shiver.
“Yunho,” you whimpered.
“Something you want, hm?” he asked, voice low and dark, like he was holding back from what he wanted, too, just to break you down even further.
You gritted your teeth. “Yes,” you said, forcing the word out.
He traced lazy circles on your back. “Tell me.”
“Yunho,” you moaned again, trying to move your hips against them again.
He stilled them once more. “I want to hear you say it.”
“Say what?” you teased—only punishing yourself.
He shifted only slightly, enough to remind you what you wanted. He grabbed your shoulder, pulled you back against him, pushing his cock even deeper into you, making you gasp into the blankets. “Tell me what you want from me.”
“God, Yunho,” you muttered, thighs starting to shake. “I want you,” you said. “I don’t know—I want you, I just want you.”
He laughed dryly under his breath and rewarded you with a slow roll of his hips. “Not specific enough,” he said.
You groaned again, exasperated and desperate.
“I don’t—” you started, another slow, agonizing thrust. “I don’t—”
“You know,” he said. “You just don’t want to say it.”
He pulled out of you slow, then snapped his hips forward, taking you to new levels of desperation.
“You’re—” you stumbled over your words. “You’re being so mean.”
He stilled again, giving you time to process, to think. He massaged circles into your hip with his palm. “Yeah?” he asked.
“Yes,” you said, through gritted teeth. He started slow again, and you couldn’t help the whimpers that fell off your lips immediately, giving you away. “I want you so bad, please. Yunho, please,” you begged.
He didn’t move.
“What do you want me to say?” you hissed, irritated. “That I want you to fuck me until I see stars?”
His fingers dug into your hip, and you knew you’d hit the mark.
“Look at you, so good with your words,” he commented.
His hips snapped forward again, deeper this time, faster. He established a rhythm. “Fuck—” you started, only to be interrupted by your own gasps. “You.”
He slammed into you until you were stuttering, barely even able to say his name or mutter any other profanities. Your thighs were still shaking, legs tense and tight, especially as you arched into him, standing on your toes to lift your ass even higher. He put his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place before him, not letting you shift forward with every thrust—instead taking all of him with each deep stroke.
It didn’t take long for you to start crumbling against him. He’d had you on the line for a long time, and your body could hardly take it anymore. Your thighs clenched, walls slamming down around him.
“You wanna come, baby?” he asked, voice soft and deep, just above a whisper. You could hear the desire dripping from it, and it only made it more difficult to hold back.
You nodded, whimpering as he kept up the pace, holding you and slamming forward again and again. He reached forward and grabbed your hair at the root, pulling you back. Your fingers tightened in the bedspread as the orgasm crashed into you, over you, through you, and you pressed yourself back against him as hard as you could, taking everything he could give as everything tightened so hard it was nearly unbearable.
“That’s it, baby,” he coaxed as you came undone, falling limp beneath him. His pace slowed into long, languid strokes before he pulled out.
With his hands on your hips, he turned you over, and you let him. Your face was flushed, your chest hot and red, your lips swollen from earlier kisses, and your hair a mess from his hands.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he said.
You let out a shaky breath, eyes dropping to his cock, still hard. You must have read his mind, because as he crawled onto the bed toward you, you moved away, sliding up so you could rest your head atop the pillows.
Your knees were folded up, thighs pressed together.
He slipped a hand on the inside of your knee and pushed them open so he could crawl between, moving up your body. Your hands went to his shoulders immediately, looking for something to grab before he touched you anywhere.
Yunho pressed a kiss to your jaw, your cheek, the side of your nose.
“Can you take more, baby?” he asked.
You nodded, lip between your teeth.
“God, you’re fucking perfect, you know that?” he asked.
You shook your head, and he laughed, dropping his lips to yours in a slow, tender kiss, such a stark difference from the previous few and their feverish nature.
He slipped a hand between your bodies, slipping a finger inside of you quickly, in and then out, before lining himself up with your entrance again. You sucked in a breath before he even moved. In one fluid motion, he sheathed himself fully inside of you. You shared the same gasp, mangled between kisses.
Everything felt immediately intense. Each stroke lighting a new fire. He seemed intent on wrecking you completely, because his fingers moved quickly to find your clit. He put pressure on it with two fingers, letting the movement of his thrusts provide the friction.
He sat up and pulled your hips down on him as he slid into you over and over again.
“Yunho, oh my god,” you said through heavy breaths, the combination of sensations making you dizzy, making it difficult to keep your eyes open.
Your sounds only encouraged him further, and soon his own grunts joined with your moans. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, not stopping to give you a second to calm down, only taking the sensation higher and higher. You squirmed, trying to get away from him, trying to stop the overstimulation, the feeling of everything being encompassed in wet, hot fire, but he didn’t let you move an inch.
You threw your head back against the pillow in defeat, letting your hips roll against his. He lifted one of your legs, leaning it against his shoulder as he fucked deeper and deeper into you. You had to close your eyes—and he didn’t stop you, didn’t demand your attention, just kept touching and thrusting, and holding you until it was all too much.
“I can’t—” you started, hips stuttering as your core tightened impossibly, strangling him inside of you. He groaned as you came, and you felt him twitch inside of you at the same time as he fucked you through your second orgasm of the night, until you were lying nearly boneless beneath him. And then he was still, too, collapsing on top of you, gathering you into his arms.
You breathed heavily together for some time. Yunho pressed soft kisses to whatever skin he could reach and smoothed your hair away from your face.
It was a long time—intertwined just like that—before he got out of bed to clean up. As soon as he returned, it was to gather you into his arms all over again, to hold you flush against his skin, to kiss your lips soft and slow.
“That was—” you started, even though there were no words in the known world to finish the sentence properly.
“Yeah,” he said. “Really was.”
You nestled your face deeper into his neck, and he held you even tighter, like he was worried you were going to go somewhere.
When he spoke again, it was quiet, just above a whisper. “I really like you, you know.”
You peeled away from him enough to catch his eyes. There was a bit of worry in them. Your hand shot out to touch his cheek.
“I really like you, too,” you said.
He cleared his throat. “Haven’t really—you know, dated anyone,” he said. “In a while.”
The words hung between you for some time.
“I want to, though. I mean, I want to keep dating you,” he said.
You laughed under your breath. He was cute when he was flustered. “Good,” you said, touching the tip of his nose with yours before pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “I want that, too.”
“Sex was that good, huh?” he teased, and you pushed his shoulder. “Kidding.”
“It was good, though,” you said, pointedly. “But that’s not the only reason. A silver lining, definitely.”
You tucked your head back into the crook of his neck and fell asleep with his arms wrapped around you, thinking this is a good thing, and wondering how you were ever anything other than completely enamored by him.
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