Tw: Experimenting, Dom Nicholas, freak sub EJ, p in v, fingering while fucking, talking through it, dirty talk, squirting, creampie, smut
Beginning of the evening - After part 0
As the three pretty boys took the dance floor, across the room, three men stepped through the nightclub doors.
Together, they made their way over to an empty booth overlooking the dance floor.
Maki dropped into the seat first, immediately scanning the crowd.
"Shit, this place is packed."He yelled.
The music was so loud, it controlled the heartbeat in his chest.
"Doesn't matter if it's packed. What matters is if there's any pretty girls for me." Nicholas yelled back.
Maki rolled his eyes.
"Here we go again."
"What?" Nicholas groaned. "Is it a crime to want some romance?"
"Whatever."
Ignoring the boy, Nicholas leaned back and gazed upon the crowd infront of him.
Like routine, he started from the left side of the room, and slowly overlooked the crowd.
Just then, in the centre, he saw a group of girls dancing like there was no tomorrow, and one caught his eye.
Standing on the dance floor was a tall girl with soft makeup, dark hair and a cropped top, dancing with two friends.
Nicholas smiled.
"Hey." He said as he nudged Maki with his elbow. "What about her?"
Maki followed his gaze.
"Nicholas," he said flatly. "that's a boy."
Nicholas' eyes widened."Really?"
"Bro yes."
Nicholas was shocked and looked back over at the tall boy.
Despite him not being a girl, Nicholas was still drawn to him.
Nicholas shrugged.
"Oh well."
Maki raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean 'oh well'?"
"At this point...I'm open to experimenting."
Maki laughed. "Desperate times ey."
Feeling confident in his choice for the evening, Nicholas started planning his approach.
"Who's the short one?" Maki suddenly asked.
He pointed next to the tall boy Nicholas liked, and there stood a shorter one.
He was laughing with another other two, brushing a brown strand of hair behind his ear.
"He's cute," Maki admitted.
"You see~, now you get it." Nicholas grinned.
"Well, now that we've both found someone," Maki smirked. "what are we waiting for?"
The two of them exchanged a look, before they stood up.
"You coming?" Nicholas asked Fuma.
Fuma stayed silent.
"Come on, there's three of them. You can talk to the blonde one." Nicholas added.
"I don't know." Fuma sighed. "I'm not sure that's really my thing."
Maki grabbed his arm and stood him up.
"Only one way to find out."
With that, Nicholas and Maki confidently made their way towards the teo boys, while Fuma trailed behind them.
---
On the dance floor
When the three men came to a stop in front of the trio, EJ was the first to notice them.
His eyes narrowed slightly.
"Can we help you?" He asked them.
Yuma and Harua stopped dancing and turned to see who EJ was talking to.
Nicholas smiled.
"I was hoping you could."
EJ folded his arms.
"Oh really?"
"I saw you from over there." Nicholas admitted. "I thought you were cute."
EJ blinked.
"That's.....bold."
Harua let out a quiet laugh before nudging EJ's shoulder.
"Oh, come on. Give him a chance."
EJ looked at Harua.
"Seriously?"
"Yeah, you've got nothing to lose."
After a moment of hesitation, EJ sighed.
"Fine."
He looked back at Nicholas.
"Let's go."
---
A moment later
After leading EJ past a crowd, the two boys arrived at a small booth in the corner of the club.
"So." Nicholas started. "Do you want a drink?"
He was about halfway standing up, when EJ replied.
EJ had his arms crossed over his stomach, and sat with one leg over the other.
"I don't drink."
Nicholas slowly sat back down.
"Oh....okay."
He tapped his fingers on his lap as he quickly thought of something else to say.
"Oh I haven't asked yet...what's your name?" He asked the boy.
EJ kept his posture the same.
"EJ."
"Just EJ?" Nicholas asked.
EJ scoffed.
"I'm not gonna tell you my full name. I just met you."
Nicholas laughed.
"True."
He waited for EJ to return the question back to him, but he never did.
"I'm Nicholas by the way." He said. "You know....incase you were wondering."
EJ simply nodded.
-
As the awkward silence went on, while EJ was looking around the room, he noticed a group of around 6 men, staring directly at him.
At first, EJ decided to stare right back at them to see if they would get the message to look away, but they didn't.
Instead, they whispered amongst themselves and sniggered.
Uncomfortable, EJ put his legs together and placed his purse over his skirt.
Nicholas, who was thinking about how to get through to EJ, noticed his shift in posture.
"You okay?" He asked.
EJ turned to him slightly.
"I'm fine. It's just hot in here."
Nicholas nodded.
EJ then turned his eyes back to the crowd, and the group of men were no longer looking at him.
'Finally.' He thought to himself.
However, just as he was about to shrugg it off, two of the men turned back around and began walking over.
EJ's heart stopped and he slowly shifted closer to Nicholas.
Subconsciously, he put his hand on Nicholas' arm.
Nicholas smiled at the sudden gesture and put his hand over EJ's.
Just as he was about to speak, he noticed EJ's worried gaze and looked up to see what he was staring at.
When he saw the two figures approaching with sly looks on their face, Nicholas immediately read the room.
"You're right, it's quite hot in here." He whispered. "Let's go to the terrace."
Nicholas then stood up and held his hand out towards EJ.
EJ took a small glance at the two approaching figures, before he quickly took Nicholas' hand and stood up.
"Okay. Let's go."
Hand in hand, Nicholas and EJ left for the terrace, leaving the two men behind.
---
The Terrace
When they reached the terrace, Nicholas stepped out first, his hand still holding EJ's.
The terrace was much quieter than the club below, and the music could still be heard through the walls.
When they reached the edge of the terrace, EJ glanced down at their hands, and paused for a moment.
He was sbout to slip his hand away, however something about the warmth of it didn't allow him to.
He kept his hand in Nicholas'.
"Thanks." EJ mumbled.
"Thanks for what?"
"For what you did back there. I know we left cos of me."
"Well I could see you were acting a bit strange, so I just did what anyone would do." Nicholas smiled.
EJ cocked a brow.
"Strange?"
Nicholas laughed.
"Yeah 'strange'. One second you were giving me the cold shoulder, the next, you were touching up on me."
EJ rolled his eyes.
"Whatever."
Nicholas laughed, and so did EJ
---
As the two gazed down at the view below them, Nicholas spoke.
"So..." Nicholas began. "I have a question."
EJ glanced at him.
"Why were you giving me the cold shoulder downstairs? It seemed like you didn't really wanna talk to me."
EJ looked back toward the city.
"Oh...don't worry about that. It's nothing."
Nicholas groaned.
"Oh come on, don't do that. Tell me. What's was the problem?"
EJ looked at him for a moment before looking away again.
"Okay. It's you."
Nicholas blinked.
"Me?"
EJ nodded and removed his hand from Nicholas'.
"I can just see that you're trying too hard." He confessed. "The ones that try too hard, are the straight ones looking trying to win some shit bet. And I learnt that the hard way."
Nicholas' expression softened.
"Is that what you think I am?"
"Aren't you?"
Nicholas hesitated.
"I don't know."
EJ scoffed.
"Well what am I supposed to do, then?" Nicholas asked. "What can I do to make you comfortable with me? Tell me."
EJ's gaze dropped briefly to his lips before returning to his eyes.
"You need to talk less."
Nicholas stepped a little closer and nodded slowly.
"And?"
EJ's voice was quieter this time.
"Do more."
Nicholas stared at him for a moment, analysing his face closely.
Judging by the way the pretty boys eyes were switching from his lips to his eyes, Nicholas knew what he meant.
Then, he slowly leaned closer, giving EJ plenty of time to move away. And when he didn't, Nicholas kissed him gently.
It was brief and soft.
When he pulled back, he stayed close.
"Better?" Nicholas murmured.
EJ smiled and nodded.
Nicholas smiled back.
"So I should've just done that from the beginning huh?"
EJ rolled his eyes.
"You really haven't learned the talk less part yet, have you?"
---
Soon enough, the two boys were sat down on the terrace sofa, making out hungrily.
EJ was sat on Nicholas' lap with his arms wrapped around his neck, while Nicholas slowly caressed EJ's thighs on either side of him.
Nicholas stuck his tongue in EJ's mouth, and sucked firefly on his lips.
Subtly, he began jolting his hips up between the pretty boys' legs.
EJ gasped into his mouth when he felt the man's hard cock against his centre.
Nicholas then moved his lips down and kissed EJ's Adams apple with his tongue.
And as he continued to dry hump him, he finally felt the warm pussy between EJ's legs.
"You have a pussy?" Nicholas asked still licking the boy's neck.
"Mhm." EJ replied. "That a problem?"
Nicholas pulled his mouth back from EJ's flesh and smirked.
"Never."
Without a warning, Nicholas tightened his grip on EJ's thighs and stood up. He flipped EJ over so that he was now sat down on the sofa, and Nicholas quickly removed his pants.
EJ was in total shock as he watched the man infront of him undress.
Nicholas looked hungry, and that turned EJ on.
---
EJ slid his underwear off and dropped it onto the floor beneath him.
He then stood up and turned around.
Nicholas watched as EJ put his knees on the sofa, and rested his arms on the head of it.
"I give you 5 minutes." EJ said flatly.
Nicholas chuckled.
"5 minutes?"
"5 minutes to show me what you got."
"Bet."
Nicholas removed his bottoms from his ankles completely and brought his hips down to EJ's ass.
He slowly lifted up the boys' skirt, and stared as his pretty lips.
Gently, he took two fingers and teased them along the flaps of EJ's pussy, before he slid them in and curled them up inside.
EJ flinched, but Nicholas held onto his hip with his other hand.
"Stay still for me okay?" He whispered.
EJ hummed.
"Mhm."
Right then, Nicholas leaned forward and slid his already hard cock inside his pussy, right underneath his fingers.
Together they gasped.
"Don't worry EJ, I'll make it quick."
---
In sync Nicholas quickly started moving both his hips and fingers, in and out of EJ.
While his thick dick stretched him out, his fingers pressed against his G spot.
EJ bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes.
He spread his knees wider against the sofa, causing him to go lower.
And as a result, Nicholas also rested his knees on the sofa between EJ's legs, and pressed closer against him.
"Just like that." Nicholas sighed.
He inserted another finger into EJ's hole, and fucked him fast with his cock.
He would only take his cock out a few inches, before he slammed right back into him.
EJ quietly smiled to himself.
Just then, little by little and with every thrust from Nicholas, EJ squirted his juices over his dick.
Nicholas slowly removed his fingers from EJ's pussy and analysed them.
"Taste it." EJ panted. "Tell me what you think."
Nicholas stayed fucking EJ with his dick while he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them.
"Hurry up Nicholas. You have two minutes left." EJ added.
Nicholas smirked before he put his finger in his mouth and sucked them clean.
"Delicious. Now give me more."
He placed both his hands onto EJ's hips and started slamming into him at a rapid pace.
Obeying Nicholas ( and because he had no room in his pussy to hold it in ) EJ released his juices over his cock, the majority of it wetting the sofa beneath them.
"That's a good girl." Nicholas moaned.
EJ's ears pricked up.
"Fuck, say that again." He whined.
Nicholas leaned over his body to his ear and whispered into it.
"You're such a good girl."
EJ turned his face to Nicholas' and stared at him.
He then stuck his tongue out, and Nicholas immediately wrapped his mouth around it.
-
During their last wild minute, they stayed with their lips on eachother, while shamelessly creaming and juicing all over themselves.
End.
Author's note: Last part yayyyyy, which couple was you're fav i wanna knowwwwww. 🙈🙈🙈🩷🩷🩷🩷.
synopsis . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁. when you go on a solo vacation to taiwan and unexpectedly meet nicholas.. but— there's something he's not telling you.
pairing idol!nicholas x non-idol!female!reader - content fluff // one shot // rom com - wc 2.2k
⋆‧°𓏲ּ𝄢 not proof read!!!!
~~~~
the vibe of taipei, taiwan was very beautiful and scenic. on the first day of your solo trip in taiwan, you stopped by to explore the zhongshan district.
the area consisted of local shops, cafes, thrift stores, and restaurants— the perfect getaway place for you especially. you headed into a thrift shop, your head practically in the racks of clothes. as soon as you were done, you walked out of the store with one full bag.
it was awfully hot— so you decided to keep walking along the sidewalk to see if there were any pleasing cafes.
one had caught your eye, the greenery inside and the slight popularity from inside made you curious.
you stepped inside, taking in the atmosphere of the place as you walked towards the counter. a few people sat inside at the tables, some stood around, while you were the only one really in line ordering something.
not being from taiwan, you barely knew any mandarin. thankfully, the menu was written in some english as well. you pointed at the picture on the menu. “hi. can i get this one?”
the girl behind the counter smiled. “yes. which.. size?”
“medium.”
the girl blinked. you pursed your lips, anxiety already building inside of you.
“the.. middle one?” you held your hands apart as if you were physically attempting to show the concept of a medium size.
“ah. medium.” the girl nodded, then glanced toward the cups behind her. “do you want.. big?”
“no— not big.” you shook her head quickly. “medium.. like—”
you held up three fingers.
“small, medium, large..?”
the barista stared at your fingers.
you winced, taking damage from your horrible communication.
neither of them seemed to be getting anywhere in the conversation.
you were about to open your mouth to attempt again at the request.
from somewhere behind you came a quiet laugh.
you turned.
a guy was standing a few feet away from you in line, one hand around his phone, the other tucked casually into the pocket of his jeans. he looked like he had been trying very hard not to listen.
he met your eyes.
“sorry,” he said. “do you want the medium?”
“yes..”
he glanced at the menu. the next thing you knew, he walked up right next to you in front of the counter. he was unexpectedly close. the guy suddenly spoke in mandarin, talking to the barista. you assumed he was telling her you wanted the medium.
you smiled at the girl, which she smiled back. “it’ll be.. 7 dollars and 12 cents.” you took out your wallet— but before you could, the guy handed the barista his card.
he spoke in mandarin again and the girl took the card to pay for the order.
you looked up, confused mostly.
“you didn’t have to— i can pay for your drink.”
“no need to. i added my drink to your order.”
you let out a small chuckle, putting your wallet away while looking at him. “thanks. that was sweet.”
“anytime.” he flashed a smile, which it almost blinded you. he was really.. really attractive. he stood in a confident but relaxed posture, plus— his style was really neat. the way his hair frayed in his face also looked effortlessly good.
you two shifted towards the side of the counter, ultimately waiting for your drinks.. but the conversation continued between you two.
“you demonstrated medium with three fingers.”
“.. yeah. i know.”
“you not from here?” he looked down at you, letting a small smirk slip.
“what kind of question is that?” you let a little laugh. “no. if you couldn’t tell.”
“how long are you here for?”
you then stopped yourself from continuing, remembering you are alone— on a solo trip.
“a while.” you lied.
he took a glance at your body language, immediately reading the room. “sorry— i hope you don’t think i’m a creep, i’m completely normal by the way.”
you raised an eyebrow, “can you prove that?”
“well, my name is nicholas and i was born here.” he folded his arms. “i moved to korea for a bit, but now i live in japan. i also sing and dance. i have one older sister and 8 close friends.”
“you must trust a lot of strangers.”
“only the pretty ones.”
you nodded and side eyed him. “you use that one a lot, huh?”
he chuckled. “not really. i haven’t made a move on someone in a while.”
“so, i’m special now?”
“i’d say so, especially if this is happening in the middle of a cafe.”
his charm and the way the conversation flowed made it a little easier to give in. “i’m y/n.”
he pulled his hand out. you put yours in his and shook it softly. “nice to meet you, y/n. pretty name too.”
you tried to shake off the jittery feeling, but it failed miserably. “thanks, nicholas.”
the barista called out the order of yours and his drink, making you collect it. you picked up the drink, about to make your way out.
“wait—“ he spoke. your turned your head. “hm?”
“can i get your number by chance?”
you hesitated for a moment, lips pressed together.
“sure.” you smiled softly.
~~~~
back at your hotel, you where putting your newly bought clothes away in your luggage— when suddenly your phone chimed.
+81 3 xxxx xxxx
hey, it’s nicholas 🙂
he actually texted you back to your surprise. you thought back at the cafe he was just saying stuff to talk to you in the moment. maybe he meant all of it for real?
nicholas: hey, it’s nicholas 🙂
yn: hi stranger
nicholas: ouch 🤕 thought we got to know each other a bit at the cafe
yn: well we had just met
nicholas: fairs fairs, tbh i was going to take u out after the cafe but i had a dinner with my family
yn: yeah sureee u thought that during our interaction
nicholas: what???? i’m serious😔 u have no faith in me huh
yn: ehh not reallyy
nicholas: how abt we go out tmr? if ur not busy
yn: ur really motivated
nicholas: does that prove anything to u?
yn: a little
nicholas: good 👍 i’ll keep working harder
you felt yourself smiling while texting him. maybe your solo trip to taiwan wouldn’t be so bad after all.
~~~~
the next day, you met up with nicholas in front of the same cafe in zhongshan district.
he suggested a good hidden gem of a resturant that was his favorite. as you two walked there, he rambled on about how good the resturant was— explaining when he was younger he’d always go there with his friends and parents. you listened to him silently, taking in his bubbly self that slowly revealed minute by minute.
nicholas noticed himself rambling, soon stopping. “sorry, i got carried away.” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.
you shook your head. “i don’t mind.”
he smiled. “enough about me.. what’s your reason for being here?”
“solo trip.”
he widened his eyes slightly, “hope im not ruining plans you had. i’m dragging you everywhere.”
you giggled, “no, not at all. i actually enjoy.. your company. i was a little nervous about being here alone, really.”
“hm, why’d you go by yourself then?”
“i wanted to be a bit more independent, also visit, of course. taiwan’s a beautiful place.”
he smiled at you. “it is.”
you flashed a smile, lightly tapping his arm. “why’re you here?.. you know, since you live in japan.”
nicholas grinned, “i got a full week off of work— which is pretty nice since i'm always working.” his phone pinged as he checked it— but he still spoke to you. “wanted to spend some time in my home country.” he looked somewhat busy on the phone.
“am i ruining your vacation?”
he put his phone away in his back pocket swiftly, returning his full attention to you now.
“nope. i actually think it’s better like this as well.”
you couldn’t help but smile, letting the blush spread across your cheeks. “i’m glad we feel the same.”
as soon as you know it, you both arrived at the restaurant. it was warm and cozy inside, wooden textures and very homey. you and nicholas were sat near the back corner of the restaurant to his request.
the owners came out and greeted both of you guys, but especially shook nicholas’ hand a bit longer. they both talked in their native languages, smiling and laughing. you smiled watching the interaction.
you both then received your food and ate.
the first bite of food was delicious.
“wow..” your eyes widened.
he let out a small laugh. “.. i know, right?”
as the two of you continued to eat and converse, you let your intrusive thought slip out at one point.
“is this a fling?”
“i wasn’t really thinking of it like that.”
your eyes lit up slightly.
“good..”
after the food, you both walked it off by exploring more of the area, nicholas showing you his favorite thrift shops along the strips.
while walking along the streets, you noticed a billboard advertisement stand. to your surprise, it wasn’t just any person on the board.
it was nicholas.
“you model?” you said aloud.
he put a finger over his lips, smiling at you still though.
“why didn’t you tell me?” you lightly nudged him teasingly.
“i thought it wasn’t important.”
“it is..!”
all he did was laugh again, still walking with his hands in his pockets. “surprise.”
the next few days.. you hung out during specific times while he wasn’t available some days because he was busy with his family.. it didn’t bother you though because you knew it was his vacation technically as well. throughout the week, you continued to see more signs and advertisements of nicholas across the streets— was he more popular than he ought himself to be? was he just being humble? whatever it was— you tried to not let it get to you because you did just meet him this week. he was just a stranger.. kind of.
coincidentally, you two had to leave taiwan on the same day. on the last day while you two were walking the streets on taipei city, he let out a small sigh.
“can i tell you something?”
“.. yeah, of course you can.”
he gritted his teeth, “i really am interested in you, y/n. a lot. and i know if i wanna continue this— i have to be honest about another thing.”
you furrowed your brows.
oh gosh, what was he going to say? that he has a wife and kids?
“my job.. i actually— i’m an idol.”
you raised your brows. “an idol?”
“yeah.. like.. remember how i told you i sing and dance? that’s kinda the reason..”
you didn’t say anything. you were still trying to process the words that came out his mouth.
“i’m sorry i didn’t tell you any sooner. i know i should have— i hope this doesn’t change anything.”
you shook your head quickly, “n-no. of course not. it doesn’t change anything, nicholas.” you smiled, letting out a nervous giggle. “i’m just a little surprised.”
he let out a relieved sigh. “okay.. good.” he smiled. “i can’t lie, i was a little scared how you would see me after.”
“why would you be scared..?”
nicholas shrugged, looking down at the sidewalk as the two of you continued walking.
“because usually when people find out, everything changes.” he laughed quietly. “they start acting different around me. sometimes they don’t even talk to me like i’m a normal person anymore.”
you stared at him for a second.
“well..”
he looked over at you.
“you’re still the guy who couldn't help but laugh at me ordering..”
his mouth fell open. a little chuckle left him.
“i was helping you.”
“you were making fun of me.” you grinned teasingly.
“i was doing both.”
you laughed, shaking your head. “see? nothing changed.”
a smile slowly formed on his face. “so you’re not gonna ask me for a picture?”
you glanced at him.
“no.”
“an autograph?”
“no.”
“free concert tickets?”
you paused.
“.. maybe.”
nicholas immediately laughed, his shoulders shaking as he looked away. “i knew it.”
“what? i’m still a fan of free things.”
he smiled. “you’re unbelievable.”
“and you still like me.”
he looked back at you, his smile softening.
“yeah.” there was a small pause. “i do.”
your cheeks warmed, suddenly finding the floor much more interesting than his face. “good.. i guess i have a reason to visit japan..”
nicholas smiled to himself before nudging your shoulder lightly with his. “you mean a reason to visit me?”
you grinned. “that too.”
and somehow, out of all the things you expected to happen on your solo trip to taiwan— accidentally falling for an idol you didn't even know existed was definitely not on the itinerary.
you came to taiwan alone, but you wouldn't be leaving quite as alone as you came.
wherein; you can't help but develop the smallest crush on the one guy the universe (and your friends) keep bringing you back to.
(955 words)
pairing: crush!nicholas x reader
genre: headcanons, fluff, strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, friend group setting, byun euijoo mention, crushing!!!, nicho is very nice
warnings: none!
a/n: hello my beautiful chocochips!! i always seem to come back from writers block with nicho hehe (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) i actually wrote this TWICE because i wrote the first draft a while back and just... lost it??? sorry its been a minute but i hope you guys enjoy a lil bit of nicho sweetness!! ♡ i miss him i miss having crushes
crush!nicholas who you first saw at your best friend euijoo’s birthday party.
crush!nicholas who you’d seen in pictures before. euijoo brought him up every now and then, so you knew they were close.
but he seemed like the kind of guy who was close with everyone, sitting across from you and looking entirely too comfortable for someone you’d never spoken to before.
crush!nicholas who introduced himself with an extended hand and an easy grin, one that softened the sharpness of his features.
you returned his greeting with a shy smile and nod, wondering how euijoo could consider himself an introvert when he had this many friends.
crush!nicholas who left it at that, communicating with you solely through little glances and short nods for the rest of the night.
and yet, his bright laugh echoed in your head when you got home, for reasons you couldn’t quite put your finger on.
you thought that was the end of it.
but another birthday turned into a hangout, then a group game night. euijoo’s friends turned into yours too and, somehow, crush!nicholas became a familiar face before you even realized it.
crush!nicholas who became someone you subconsciously looked for whenever you joined the group, your heart stuttering whenever you caught him already looking at you, only for him to smile and look away.
crush!nicholas who you kept finding yourself beside.
lining up for food together one day, leading the group through a haunted house the next, his easygoing energy coaxing the words out of you. words that would normally fall unheard amongst the friend group’s chatter.
crush!nicholas who was becoming someone you enjoyed being around more than you probably should.
he made it easy.
he laughed at every joke you made, listened to every unnecessarily long story, and somehow always found a way to include you in the conversation.
crush!nicholas who you grew to love listening to just as much as you loved rambling. he told you about his life, his passions, and all the little things that made him who he was.
almost annoyingly, your brain latched onto every new piece of him it could get its hands on.
you found yourself sticking to crush!nicholas more often than not, or maybe it was the other way around.
but your closeness with him didn’t go unnoticed by your friends, who exchanged knowing smiles when nicholas saved a seat for you or waited while you tied your shoes.
crush!nicholas who, in your eyes, seemed so fearless.
the only one in the group who remained unflinching during horror movie marathons. or the friend you shamefully called during a thunderstorm, his calm a stark contrast to how you’d jump at every crack of lightning.
crush!nicholas who seemed so fearless, until the group opted for a theme park trip.
crush!nicholas who insisted he was perfectly fine with roller coasters despite his very obvious fear of heights.
˚. ᵎᵎ looking him up and down, you took in nicholas’ frame. his body, which usually took up space so casually and loosely, was now stiff, fingers drumming against the railing he leaned on.
the unfamiliar sight brought a smile to your lips, “you scared?”
he turned to look at you, his empty gaze meeting yours.
nicholas took a deep breath before answering, “nope.”
you couldn’t help but giggle as he shook his head absentmindedly, almost as if he were trying to clear his mind. you could practically see the million thoughts racing through it.
and, despite the nervous laughter and his screams that were louder than everyone else’s, he still went on every single ride.
crush!nicholas who, even just walking around, still looked suspiciously nervous. you couldn’t tell if the nerves hadn’t worn off or if there was something else on his mind.
crush!nicholas who slowed his steps to walk beside you when he noticed you trailing behind the group.
crush!nicholas who glanced down at your bag after watching you shift it between your shoulders for the third time.
˚. ᵎᵎ “do you want me to carry your bag?” nicholas asked, eyeing the purse that weighed heavy on your side.
“oh, no, thanks,” you replied despite the ache in your shoulders. “you don’t have to.”
“but do you want me to?”
you blinked up at him, thinking for a moment before giving in.
“…yes, please.”
“okay,” an almost triumphant smirk played at his lips as he took it from you, slinging it over his shoulder like it was nothing.
crush!nicholas who spent the rest of the day making you laugh, stealing bites of your food, and found himself as your partner on rides.
crush!nicholas who volunteered to drive you home once the day was over, leading you toward his car in the parking lot.
crush!nicholas who stopped you just before you could get into the passenger seat.
˚. ᵎᵎ “wait,” nicholas’ voice echoed through the parking lot. “can you help me get something out of the trunk real quick?”
you turned around.
“sure.”
crush!nicholas whose hands trembled a little as he lifted the trunk hood to reveal a bouquet surrounded by snacks and plushies, paired with a sign that read:
can i be your boyfriend?
crush!nicholas who laughed at you standing there, slack-jawed as his foot tapped nervously against the pavement.
˚. ᵎᵎ “so…?” he prompted your answer.
crush!nicholas who barely had time to react before you rushed into his arms, shouting a yes.
crush!nicholas who stumbled back a step before laughing and wrapping his arms around you.
crush!nicholas whose arms felt like the safest place in the world, and who was a little bit more than just a crush now.
tag list: @nichozzystuffs, @peachteaxz, @jothehirono, @minhosimthings (ask/comment/dm to be added or removed!)
Nicholas (&team) x f!reader x Yeonjun (txt) | wc: 9.6k
Synopsis: You just wanted to stop by Giselle’s birthday dinner for a calm, casual, friendly night out, but of course nothing in life is ever simple. On a cool evening, you find yourself between an ex-situationship and a nameless playboy… Things get a little awkward, to say the least. What’s that saying again? Old habits die hard?
Themes: rich!bestie!Giselle, cafe worker reader, uni au/ young adult age, birthday dinner (not yours), lots of jealousy, tension, swearing, flirting, suggestive content, high school mentioned, drinking, alcoholism (be responsible!), parental divorce (not yours), angst, light petting, reader eats shellfish (sorry?), rich kid activities, driving after 1 drink (whoopsie! don’t do this!), you will be called “princess” & have a cat named Lychee… I don't make the rules (I do)
A/N: I’ve been gone for so longgg! And I started this forever ago :/ I hope you guys are all doing ok and enjoy watching 2 of my fav blondes bicker!!! I’ll be back, promise! <3
ft. Giselle (Aespa), Beomgyu (TXT), & idk restaurant staff...
━━━━━━━+:★:+━━━━━━━
“Excuse me, I’m looking for the Uchinaga party?” You stand at the front of a bustling restaurant with a shy smile and a small gift bag in your grasp.
“Right this way.” A host in an all-black outfit leads you to the back of the establishment. With all the chatter surrounding you, it’s almost impossible to hear her.
You walk past table after table of well-dressed customers, in the middle of cutting up steaks and sipping wine. The place is fancier than you were expecting, but again, this is Giselle you’re talking about. She’s basically the people’s princess.
Finally, the host stops at a dimly lit corner in the eatery. She slides open a door to a private room with a long, sleek black table full of delicious food and unfamiliar faces. There’s booth-style seating on one side and chairs on the other.
“Enjoy.” She leaves you at the head of the room, shutting the door behind herself.
No one pays you much attention— or well, maybe one person. A smile washes over your features. Of course she does.
“Hi, sexy!” Giselle calls to you with open arms from the head of the table.
The volume of music and conversation almost makes her squealing seem normal. She’s in a pretty pink bedazzled crown, and she has 4 mardi gras bead necklaces thrown around her neck just in case the headwear wasn’t telling enough.
A few people turn their heads to look at you as you make your way to her. You barrel her into a hug without warning. “Happy birthday, beautiful.” You speak into her hair.
“Sit, sit!” She gestures to the chair beside her, eagerly patting the cushion. “I saved you a seat.”
“Sorry, I’m late. I couldn’t get out of work.” You plop down into the chair— that’s way more comfortable than you expected. You suppose that’s the benefit of luxury.
“Was Gary on duty? Hate that guy.” Your friend rolls her eyes.
“Yeah, you know doesn’t let anyone go unscathed.”
She makes a beckoning motion off to the side of you. Within seconds, a waiter appears with a silver tray holding flutes of champagne. She grabs two glasses with a graceful ease, handing one to you.
You take it, still blinking back the mild shock of the waiter you didn’t even know was in the room. “Thanks,” you say as the worker disappears into the background.
“Fuck that guy.” Giselle clinks her glass to yours.
You giggle. “Yeah, fuck that guy.” The two of you sip from the glasses, the fizz from the bubbly awakening your senses.
You and Giselle have known each other since high school. Even though you go to different universities, you’re thick as thieves. She’s one of your few friendships that actually made it out of the lunchroom, which means there aren’t a ton of other familiar faces at this table full of her uni friends.
It holds a similar feeling to visiting a cousin from out of town. The love is there, but it’s still a tad awkward. Not to mention, her parents are filthy, stinking rich, and that became a lot harder to ignore after high school. Luxury trips, trendy restaurants, designer clothes instead of a school uniform- it was all part of the deal. You weren’t particularly going on these trips with her, but it’s rarely shocking to get a FaceTime from her sipping on a coconut in the Maldives.
“And fuck your co-worker with that chopped bob who’s always staring at me.” Giselle shivers, taking another sip. “Weird ass bitch.” Didn’t take a detective to tell she’s tipsy, and it makes you laugh.
Out of nowhere, a warm pair of hands rests on your shoulders. Firm and unmoving.
You slowly lower the flute, looking at Giselle, who quirks a brow and keeps drinking. You’re met by a notorious shit-eating grin as you turn your head to see who it is. “I should’ve known.”
“Who are we fucking?” Nicholas teases, fingers wiggling against your collarbones.
“Y/N’s boss.” Giselle chimes in, tone pleasant as ever.
Nicho hums, nodding in fake understanding. All the while, his hands start to move experimentally against your shoulder blades. His thumbs are digging gently into the flesh of your back. “Long day?”
The massage sheds a layer of stress off of you like snake skin. You tilt your head back again, “You could say that.”
Nicholas is the only one of Giselle’s friends whose name you could remember. He’s the only one you truly like. The only one who pays attention to you.
He’s a sweet boy. Usually mild-mannered, but playful when you get to know him. After meeting him out at a club once, Giselle insisted you two should hang out again to ‘nurture your chemistry,’ as she put it. Casual conversations turned into texts, turned into late-night calls, turned into the occasional drunken dance in the dark. You knew he liked you, and every time you met, it became harder not to reciprocate.
Feelings and fleeting touches lead to a summer fling. The type of fun summer was made for. The two of you decided to end things while you were ahead and return to your normal lives. Now it’s October, and things are normal— for the most part.
He looks down at you, pouting sympathetically. “Do you want me to punch him in the face?”
“And chip your nail polish? Yeah, right.” You roll your eyes, lids fluttering shut in relaxation.
Still pouting, “I thought you liked my nail polish.”
“That’s not the point.” You wave a hand at him dismissively, stretching your neck to give him more access.
Nicholas leans down so you can hear him better. “Feels good?”
You nod wordlessly, sighing and slumping into the seat. He rolls his fingers into the skin at the base of your neck, then presses firmly. So firmly that it hurts. You whince, an embarrassing mangled sound escaping you as your eyes shoot open and a hand flies to your mouth. Not quite a gasp or a whine, some sort of hybrid between the two.
“Ok, stop. Not in front of my champagne.” Giselle drags her drink closer to her end of the table, judgment written across her face.
His hands come to an abrupt stop while you shoot him a glare for overdoing it. He presses his lips together and looks away, trying, but failing, to hide his amusement.
“I hope the floor swallows you whole.” You mutter, shrugging his hands off your shoulders. It feels like your face is on fire.
“It’s normal for people to make noise when they’re getting a massage,” Nicholas reassures, using all his willpower to separate his hands from you. He decides to use them to grip the back of your chair instead.
“It was embarrassing.” You whisper-shout at him.
“I’ve heard you do worse.”
You narrow your eyes at his insinuation, opening your mouth to throw a dig at him, but Giselle interjects.
“Again, the champagne.” Giselle blinks at the two of you, covering her glass of champagne as if it had eyes. “Go over there. All this sexual energy is making the bubbles go flat.” She points to an empty spot at the booth side of the table.
Your eyes widen. “But—“
“Go.” Giselle delivers more insistently, but you don’t move. “Girl, seriously, go. I saw you like 2 days ago, we’ll catch up later.”
“I’m only going because there’s food over there.” You assert with a finger in the air as you stand.
“Mhm.” Your long-time friend nods knowingly, grabbing the gift bag from your hands. “Definitely not because of the tall blondie behind you.”
“Precisely,” your finger still in the air for emphasis. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
Nicholas watches patiently behind you as the scene unfolds. Only moving when you're moving and nodding along aimlessly. He follows behind you as you scootch your way into the available space, helping clear a path when necessary.
You sit, grabbing a shrimp from a nearby platter. “Why are you looking at me like that?” You question the boy without looking at him.
“This is just me paying attention.” He doesn’t even blink.
“Pay less attention.” You chew, feigning annoyance.
“Last time I paid less attention, you moaned in front of the entire room.” He chides.
“I did not fucking— You know what?” You grab a shrimp and plop it into his mouth. “Enough from you.”
He smiles and chews without a problem. His voice starts again after he swallows. “Seriously though, how’ve you been?” He leans back, eyes glued to your face.
“I’ve been… good.” You say thoughtfully. “Finally, in my last semester, so that’s reason enough for me to be happy.”
Nicholas graduated from university last spring when the two of you met. Always a step ahead of you. He already has a stable job at a friend’s dad’s company and a ten-year plan, but that’s just how he is. “Congratulations,” he beams, squeezing your leg briefly.
“You’re a little premature, but thanks.” You tap his hand as it retreats to his own lap.
“Are you still working at the cafe?”
You nod, sighing.
His brows knit together. “I thought you liked your boss there. What was her name, again? Sara- Sally?”
“Sandra and I did, but she changed locations. Now we have fuck-ass Gary who treats us like work dogs.” A pout forms on your face without realizing it as you recount the many annoying moments throughout the day.
“Do you want me to stop by? I could make a complaint or something.” His expression is still tense as he watches you.
You lend him a soft look. Of course, he would offer to do that. “It’s fine. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me.”
He doesn’t say anything; he just looks at you. His eyes travel across your face, collecting all of the warmth from your expression. He hums, and it fills the space with tension.
You never know what to do when he gets like this, so you choose to ignore it. “Enough about me. How’ve you been?” You shove his shoulder with your own playfully.
He exhales heavily, adapting to the lighter mood you seem to be in search of. “For starters, the ladies at the office are like wolves. They can’t get enough of me.”
“Oh, really?” You laugh.
“I can’t walk down a hallway without getting my cheeks pinched or having someone look at my ass. It’s like they haven’t seen a moderately attractive man in years.”
“You’re moderately attractive now?” You quirk.
“I’m being humble.” He deadpans.
Rolling your eyes, you can’t help the flash of concern that runs through your mind. “Have you considered going to HR about it?”
He grimaces. “Maybe later, but right now it’s doing wonders for my ego. One lady even baked me cookies. From scratch.”
Giggling at his shock, “We made cookies twice; it’s not that hard.”
“Yeah, but those were sugar cookies, these were sea salt chocolate chip… and like actually delicious.”
You pause. “Are you saying my cookies weren’t delicious?”
“Depends which cookies you’re talking about,” he mumbles without missing a beat, and you dig your elbow into his side as a warning. Whether the warning was for him or the untimely butterflies in your gut, you’re not fully certain.
A charged quiet settles between the two of you. Act normal, be normal— “I’m glad they’re welcoming you in.”
“Yeah, thankfully.” He nods, a smile creeping onto his face. “You know, they almost wanted me to dye my hair black for the position.”
You tilt your head, inspecting his hair. Now that you think about it, it’s definitely longer than before, but still as blonde as ever. “I could see that being a thing.”
“Well, I like the blonde.” He rolls his eyes.
“No one’s saying I don’t like the blonde.” You raise your hands in defense.
“When I came in for my last interview at the end of the summer, the guy was like ‘bleached hair is pretty unorthodox for a job like this’, then I told him it was my girlfriend’s—“
You make a face at him, the corners of your mouth turning down. Just like that, you’re back to reality.
He notices instantly and freezes. “What?”
“It’s nothing.” Your voice is unconvincing, traces of disdain filling the space between words.
“No, it’s not. You’re making a face.”
“I just wasn’t expecting the term girlfriend.” You spoke in almost a whisper.
You knew he was using it to refer to you, but the two of you never officially dated. He made it clear from the beginning that he didn’t want a girlfriend. This was one of the reasons the two of you went your separate ways. You refused to enter the school year in romantic purgatory because of him. It’s been a few months, but not long enough for you to willingly let that false title slide.
“Do you prefer the term girl-who-is-a-friend?” Sarcasm heavy on his tongue
“Isn’t that what I am?” You fold your arms, looking at him more directly.
He takes in your guarded posture. He never understood why this distinction was such a big deal in the first place. “Giselle’s a ‘girl who is a friend’. You’re not Giselle.” He punctuates the title with air quotes.
You don’t deny it. Instead, you take it as an opportunity to stuff your mouth with finger food.
“A girl who is a friend that I also used to kiss a little?” He cocks his head at you, trying to provoke a reaction.
“Whatever,” you mumble.
“He’s my supervisor, I couldn’t say situationship. That’s not even a real word—“
“I said it’s whatever, Nicholas. Just finish the story.”
He looks at you for a minute before continuing. “I told the guy it was my girlfriend’s idea, and he thought it was romantic.” He recounts the memory dryly. “So he let it slide.”
“Good for you.” You barely meet his eye.
The blonde had sparked from an informal debate on bleached brows that turned into a color consultation for the unassuming man. You said he’d look good with a light ash or platinum color, promising you’d do the research and dye it for him if he let you. He had only really gone through with it as a joke, but it turned out to be his new favorite look.
“What do you think?” He leans in, trying to get your attention. He wants you to look at him.
“About what? We already established that the blonde was my idea.” You give in, meeting his eyes.
“I meant, do you think it was romantic?” His tone is neutral, like he’s genuinely curious.
You blink. Yes, yes, it was romantic. “I haven’t really thought about it .” You lie. “What about you?”
He hums, a little lost in thought. “I didn’t at first, but looking back on it.” He looks off somewhere. “Yeah, I think it was. It’s a good memory.”
You tsk, trying to diffuse the tension once again. “You were the worst first client ever, actually. You kept moving. I thought I was gonna get bleach in your eye.”
He smiles to himself. He remembers sitting between your legs as you sat on the couch in your apartment, applying the bleach with a soft-bristle brush. Your cat, Lychee, kept coming in and out of his lap, pawing biscuits on his thighs. The whole process took a lot longer than he had expected at the time.
“That’s not my fault. Lychee was being an attention whore.” He chides.
You gasp. “My Lychee is an angel.”
“You’re delusional. She literally tried to jump on my shoulders.” He laughs.
“She just gets a little… hyper. That’s all.” You shrug defiantly. It is true, she was extra clingy with Nicholas, but so were you at the time. She was just taking after her mother.
A moment passes.
“I’m happy we did it.” He leans in a little further, speaking into your ear. “Thank you for pushing me outside of my comfort zone.”
“You’re welcome, I guess.” Your voice comes out smaller than anticipated. Placing a hand on his chest, you gently widen the gap between the two of you.
He looks down at your fingers against the buttons of his shirt; his face is unreadable.
“You’re invading my personal bubble.” You use your free hand to draw a circle in the air.
“Am I?”
“A little.”
You look down at the way your knees are barely touching. The heat from his body makes him feel a lot closer than he actually is. At this point, anything would be too close for comfort. It’s hard to be around someone like him and not fall back into old tendencies.
“I didn’t realize.” He leans back against his seat, looking blankly in front of him.
His wandering focus allows you to take him in for the first time tonight. Like, really take him in. From his earrings to the shine of the lowlight on his nose. The itch to reach out for him tingles against the tips of your fingers, forcing you to look away. “Long hair suits you.”
A loud vibrating sound comes from his pocket as he turns to look at you. He tucks his lips, not wanting to move, but knowing he has to at least check to see who’s calling him. He slides the phone out of his pocket. It’s his supervisor, Fuma, calling.
“Is it work?” You ask.
He doesn’t say anything, but the disappointment in his eyes tells enough.
“It’s fine, go ahead.” You wave a hand at him dismissively.
The phone continues to vibrate in his palm. “I’d rather talk to you.”
You laugh shyly, not really sure of what to say.
“If I take this call, you have to promise not to leave.” He presses.
“You know I’m better than that.” You tilt your head at him.
You were giving him those eyes. The kind of eyes you only give to someone you know on an intimate level— a bedroom level. Very, very distracting eyes. His heart flutters uncontrollably. How is he supposed to walk away from those eyes?
He exhales heavily, like it takes work. “I don’t know, what if your personal bubble outgrows the entire restaurant?”
“I’m not going anywhere.” You push his shoulder. The statement is unfortunately more true than you’re letting on.
“Promise?” He extends his pinky finger, and you wrap yours around his without much thought.
You roll your eyes. “I promise.”
He looks at the lit-up screen of his phone momentarily. “I guess I should go take this.”
You nod, and so does he, but he doesn’t move.
“You’re gonna miss the call, idiot.” You laugh, pushing him again.
He smiles when you smile. It’s subtle, almost secretive. He answers the call, drawing his pinky finger away from yours and covering his ear not against his phone. “Hello?” He waddles out of the booth and eventually out of the room.
A smile graces your face as you watch him walk away. You look to your lap. This is going to be a problem— He is going to be a problem if he keeps acting like this. Your willpower is only so strong, and you don’t want to go down that road. You don’t want to complicate things. Still, here he goes with his four fancy fucking rings on, complicating them with the effort of a slugish cat. Pawing at your reserve just enough to annoy you.
As Nicholas slips out, two young gentlemen walk in, and the room lifts with chatter. They’re popular among the bunch. One of them is Choi Beomgyu, Giselle’s part-time lover, and the other is some guy you’ve never seen before. He’s wearing a leather jacket, and he has one of the most unusually charming faces you’ve ever seen.
Beomgyu leads them to the birthday girl, his friend timidly in tow. From his position near Giselle, the unfamiliar face turns to look at you.
You’re only watching out of boredom, but the sudden eye contact makes you want to retreat. He doesn’t look away, not even when Beomgyu unknowingly blocks his view.
Smiling awkwardly, you turn away. But he’s still staring, blinking dumbly.
He laughs and looks at his shoes, arms wrapping around his waist as if to self-soothe. He rocks back and forth on his heels, unintentionally matching your awkwardness before looking up at the ceiling in an aimless sort of way. It’s a black reflective surface. Oddly enough, he can still see you in it.
The back and forth was entertaining for a while, but you decided to busy yourself with the smartphone in your purse. While you’re distracted, a vascular hand drags back an open seat from across the table. The charming stranger from before gently sits before you.
You only spare him a glance before going back to the word search game on your device.
“Excuse me, could you pass me a napkin?” The stranger speaks, clearing his throat.
You look up through your brows. Is he talking to you? You look left… then right, but he’s staring straight at you. Where even are the napkins?
“Over there.” As if reading your mind, he gestures to a pile of neatly folded disposable napkins to the left of you.
Eyes traveling to the small stack, you reach out, grab one, and pass it along. There was no mess in sight. Not even a crumb.
He tucks the object into an inner pocket of his jacket, and you raise a brow at him. “I like to be prepared.” He smiles slyly and extends his hand back toward you. “I’m Yeonjun, by the way.”
You shake his hand from across the table, politely telling him your name.
“Are all of Giselle’s friends as pretty as you?” He says, retracting his hand.
You peek at the attractive and likely wealthy people surrounding you. “Look around, you tell me.”
He shakes his head. “Can’t. I kinda got tunnel vision the moment we locked eyes earlier.”
You laugh coyly. The phone in your hand feels a lot less amusing than this. “Oh, really?”
He dramatically rests a hand over his heart, wincing like he’s in pain. “Don’t tell me you didn’t feel it too.”
“Can’t say I did.” You shrug, acting more nonchalant than you feel.
“Let’s fix that.” He rests his forearms on the table, leaning forward. He scans your expression and your posture, finally landing on the phone effortlessly sitting in your grasp. “You look bored.”
You blink. That is not what you were expecting at all. Who says things like that? “What—no, I’m not.”
“Are you waiting for something interesting to happen?” He smirks.
“I already said I’m not bored—“
“You’re playing word search.” He deadpans. “In a room full of people.”
“Room full of people, huh? I thought you said you had tunnel vision.” You sass, narrowing your eyes at him. He’s easily wheedling his way under your skin.
“Oh, I do. I can’t see anyone but you. I was just taking your word for it.”
You lean back, resting your phone in your lap. “For your information, I enjoy playing word search. Besides, I hardly know anyone here.” You fold your arms for the second time tonight.
“You know me.” His smile loses its edge, turning into something sweet and warm.
You try to suppress a laugh. It was cute, but you don’t really know him. “I don’t even remember your name.”
“That’s okay. I’ll remind you.” Smile continuously soft. He nods at you once. “I’m Yeonjun.” He places a hand on his chest earnestly.
You laugh some more, trying not to retreat from his sincerity. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you.”
“Y/N,” he repeats it like a confirmation. Like he’s secretly writing it down somewhere.
You nod, suddenly shy under his gaze.
“Now, you say my name. It’ll lock it in your memory.” He looks at you expectantly.
Lips unmoving, you stare at him, committing his face to memory before anything else. “Yeonjun.” You say more so to yourself, subtly trying it out.
“Exactly.” He smiles again. “Now you know.” He leans back into his chair.
You find yourself leaning forward, resting an arm on the table, before you can stop yourself. “What brings you here, Yeonjun?”
“You.” He delivers smoothly.
Rolling your eyes, you scoff. Butterflies abuse your insides at how instinctual his response felt. “I meant the restaurant, not the chair.”
“I’m that guy’s plus one.” He points his thumb toward Beomgyu, who is dotting at Giselle near the head of the table. “What about you?”
“Giselle and I have been close friends since high school.”
He smiles to himself, “You must be a good friend. For keeping in touch, I mean.”
“She makes it easy,” you shrug. It’s the truth.
He looks around the table, stalling before the big question. “Any non-friends in your life?”
You smirk. “And what does that mean?”
“What do you think it means?”
“I think it means you’re trying to avoid asking me what you really mean.”
He leans forward, just as amused as you. “And what do I really mean?”
You roll your eyes. “I don’t know,” you shrug, plopping an appetizer in your mouth. Part of you is impressed by how well he avoided all that; the other half of you is nervous-sweating through your shirt.
Yeonjun grimaces, grabbing a flute of champagne from a passing waiter. “Sounds complicated.” He takes a sip, looking at you like he’s trying to weigh his poison. “Should I be scared?”
Yes. Instead, you take the mysterious route, the ‘I don’t have a crazy, sexy gym bro waiting for me as we speak’ route. To be fair, the two of you aren’t together. Maybe it’s time to try something new… like someone who actually wants a girlfriend.
“Do you see anything scary?” You retort, smiling.
He sits back, unanswering. The contents of that flute are downed in no time. Placing the glass neatly in front of him, he shakes his hand from side to side as if to say ‘kinda’.
As if splitting the ground open to unleash the wrath of Hell, Nicholas slithers the party room door open. In all actuality, he’s walking at the pace of a turtle, completely hypnotized by something on his phone screen, but to you, the room just got a lot smaller, hotter, and messier.
Yeonjun turns around, following your line of sight before you can look away. His eyebrows shoot up, then furrow down. He goes through about 4 facial expressions before landing on a skeptical smile. He knows Nicholas, which means he also knows that Nicholas doesn’t have a girlfriend. Then, why are you looking at him? He turns back to you. “Do you—“
“So how do you know Beomgyu?” You could see the gears turning in his head, but you knew that whatever he was going to ask might be too tough to answer. Especially if it’s about Nicholas.
He blinks. So you’re interested in getting to know him… Good to know… “We, uh, dormed together in freshman year.”
It’s your turn to grimace. You don’t know too much about the guy besides what your best friend has told you, so of course, your mind instinctively goes to the gutter. If you ask the right girl, he’s a succubus; if you ask the wrong one, he’s a lunatic. Neither seems like a very good roommate. “That sounds…”
“Yeah…” He laughs. “Interesting.”
“Yeah…”
Laughing some more to himself, “At the end of the term, he made me a t-shirt that said ‘I survived Hurricane Beomgyu’ with his face on it.” His long fingers fiddle with the base of his glass. “I’m actually wearing it right now.”
You giggle, “You’re lying?”
He scoffs, looking at you. “Of course I’m lying. That’d be like spraying girl repellent on myself, are you crazy?”
You both laugh obnoxiously loud, and of course, that is the exact moment Nicholas decides to worm back into the booth. “Yeonjun?” He points to him with furrowed brows and a counterfeit smile.
Leisurely looking away from you, Yeonjun extends a hand. “Nic, what’s up?” The two clap hands, the unsaid tension making their grips that much firmer.
“Could ask you the same thing.”
“Just catching up with some good company.” Yeonjun glances at you between words, a soft smile across his lips.
Squinting at the two of you, “You two know each other?”
You open your mouth to interject, but Yeonjun beats you to it. “We do now.”
“He’s friends with Beomgyu,” you toss in to ease some tension.
“I know.” Nicholas doesn’t even bother to turn to you as you speak. “I’m surprised you’re not glued to his hip right now.”
Yeonjun shrugs, stealing another look at you. “You can only tolerate so much Beomgyu in a day.”
Nicholas hums, wordlessly leaning back into his seat. His legs spread a little as he slouches, pressing his thigh against yours, but the heat you felt before has simmered.
A twist in your gut imposes the need to explain yourself, to say Yeonjun is just some guy who sat down and started talking. Instead, you decide on: “How was the call?” You turn to Nicholas specifically, speaking in a tone softer than you originally intended.
With noticeable hesitation, he turns to you. Something between regret and annoyance flashes across his features before he forces himself to look away. “It was fine,” he sighs, folding his arms. “Nothing important.”
“So,” Yeonjun leans back, semi-mirroring Nicho’s posture. “How do you guys know each other?”
You peer over at Nicholas, expecting him to answer. All he does is plop another shrimp in his mouth. “Through Giselle.” You smile politely at Yeonjun, who smirks back knowingly.
“I mean, yeah.” Yeonjun nods like it’s obvious. “I think that’s how most of the people here know each other.”
“Well then, I guess you should’ve asked a better question.” You reach for an appetizer to silence yourself.
Yeonjun lifts a brow, “Alright, then.” He looks around for a moment until his eyes land on a waiter. “Do you drink?”
You blink, surprised. “Who? Me?”
Yeonjun laughs, “No, the pretty girl behind you. Yes, you.”
“Yeah… is this really your version of a better question—“
“Now I have an even better question.” He gestures over his shoulder at a man carrying an empty silver platter. “Can I get you a drink?”
You huff a dry laugh. “By ‘a drink’, do you mean champagne, because that’s all they’re walking around with—”
“You can order from the bar, and I, for one, want something stronger than champagne.” The waiter spots his hand from across the room and pivots in your direction. “What do you drink?”
This question always trips you up. Giselle has been telling you for years to nail down a drink order, but all the names felt too complicated to remember. Can’t alcohol just be an answer? “Um,” you glance at Nicholas, who’s decided to busy himself with his phone.
Yeonjun laughs, catching on to your predicament. “So you don’t drink?”
“I do!” You defend yourself.
“Then what do you like?” Laughter laces his words.
“Vodka.” You deadpan at him.
He tucks his lips in amusement. “…Vodka?”
“Or sweet, I like sweet drinks.” Well, this is awkward… Giselle and her penthouse posse have been going to bars since they were 15, while you were at home doing chores and homework. Even as an adult, you usually prefer drinking at someone’s apartment instead of a bar, and that usually entails mixing a generous serving of vodka with some sort of fruity something from the back of their fridge.
Giselle would always order for you. Then, when you started hanging out with Nicho, he would order for you. You’re almost certain that over your summer with him, you’ve tried every fruity alcoholic beverage known to man. Too bad you can’t remember any of their names….
“Any recommendations?” You tilt your head and bat your eyes like you would for Nicholas.
“You want me to pick for you?” Yeonjun asks, almost bewildered by the concept.
“I’m not picky,” you try to lessen the pressure, noticing the approaching waiter behind him.
“There’s literally no drink you can think of?” He laughs awkwardly.
“How can I help you, sir?” The waiter approaches Yeonjun from behind with a barely there customer service smile.
“Yeah, uh,” Yeonjun looks between you and the waiter, eventually landing on the waiter. “Can I get a whiskey smash and a… Cosmo… please?”
Without reaching for a pen or pad, the young server nods. “Whiskey smash and a Cosmopolitan. Is that all?”
“And a Manhattan,” Nicholas adds plainly without looking up from his phone.
“Whiskey smash, Cosmopolitan, and a Manhattan. Coming right up.” The young man speed-walks off as if worried to forget the order in the time it takes to go from the room to the bar.
“Didn’t know you were drinking, man.” Yeonjun looks to Nicholas, unimpressed.
“Oh, was I supposed to have you sign my permission slip first?” Nicho chides, eyes glued to a text chain on his phone.
“Depends, are you any better handling your liquor than I remember?” This time, Yeonjun is the one to plop a mini meatball in his mouth.
At that, Nicho’s thumb freezes against his screen. Resting his phone in his lap, he turns to the smug-faced speaker. “Are you, as a grown man, about to bring up something I did in high school?”
Yeonjun scoffs. “Chill, man, I was joking.” He leans an arm on the table, pivoting toward you. “Nicho and I went to high school together. Used to be a bit of a wild child.”
“You or me?” Nicho raises a brow, challenging.
A slow, devious smile forms on Yeonjun’s lips. “You.” He doesn’t waver. “Who else?”
“Right.” Nicholas huffs, retreating back to the phone in his lap. “Real fucking mature.”
“What’re you guys talking about?” You look between the two of them.
“It was stupid, don’t—“
“At my birthday party one year, Nicholas climbed on top of my car and barfed on my windshield.” Yeonjun explains, acting out a barfing-motion with his hands.
Nicho suck his teeth, leg bouncing furiously under the table. Embarassment was turning his ears pink. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
“It was chill though,” Yeonjun busied himself with an appetizer. “We were all drunk, Nic was just drunk drunk—“
“Stop calling me Nic.” If you weren’t right next to him, Nicholas would’ve been willing to ruin the entire party to give Yeonjun a taste of what he deserved. He’s so upset his hands have started to tingle with anticipation. Through gritted teeth, “Yeah, well, my parents got divorced. It was a really shitty time for me, asshole.” He mumbles before fixating on his phone again.
You clear your throat with a forced smile. “We all have our crazy stories.”
Nicholas makes a low noise, ignoring the two of you while Yeonjun just leans in further. “Oh yeah, like what?”
“I once busted my ass on the stairs after trying FourLoko for the first time.”
Yeonjun shrugs with a smile. “That’s not so bad.”
“Yeah, well, I walked around with a limp and hunched back for the rest of the night. Shit was embarrassing enough for me.”
“How old were you?” As Yeonjun speaks, a different waiter approaches with your drinks.
One short glass with gold-ish liquid for Yeonjun, one stemmed glass with brown liquid and a cherry for Nicholas, and one very very pink martini glass for you. Like very pink. The waiter places it in front of you like it’s obviously yours, then leaves the other two in the middle for the boys to figure out.
For the first time in 10 minutes, Nicholas slips his phone into his pocket. He looks at your drink, then at you with lazy eyelids, annoyed by the whole situation. “Such a pretty drink for the princess.”
You know he’s being sarcastic, but something in your stomach jumps anyway. “What is this again?” you ask Yeonjun, fiddling with the base of the glass.
“It’s a cosmopolitan, vodka, citrus, and shit. You’ll like it.” Yeonjun reaches for his glass, immediately taking a sip. “Don’t avoid the question, though.”
“The FourLoko story?” You ask, and Yeonjun nods simply. “That was a year and a half ago,” you mumble.
Yeonjun burst with laughter. “A year? Dude—”
“Have you ever had a FourLoko before?” You deadpan.
Jun shrugs. “Never heard of it.”
“It’s basically canned poison,” you joke.
“A can? Like beer?” His brows furrow and his bottom lip juts out like he’s trying to see how you could get that drunk off one can of beer.
“No, not like beer. Not all alcohols come from the cellar of your daddy’s restaurant, Yeonjun.” Nicho rasps, then sips from his drink without missing a beat.
“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Yeonjun narrows his eyes at the latter.
“Is that really the only thing you know how to talk about? High school?” Nicho put his glass down a little too roughly.
“A lot happened back then,” Is all Yeonjun replies.
“I think high school was the exact opposite for me.” The confession helps you down a third of your drink in one go. It takes everything in you not to gag: it’s tart— almost bitter. “Wow,” you say with pinched brows.
Nicho laughs to himself, gaze falling to his lap once more.
“Good?” Yeonjun raises his brows hopefully at you.
With a hand over your mouth to cover your puckered lips at the tartness, you nod… sort of… You shake your head enough to give him a positive impression. “Thanks for choosing for me,” is all you can offer.
“Yeah, real good pick.” Nicholas smiles at Yeonjun.
Yeonjun scoffs, jaw ticked outward. “What is your problem?”
“She doesn’t like it,” Nicholas responds instantaneously.
You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what? Be honest?”
“She has a mouth, Nic. She can speak for herself.” Yeonjun tilts his head challengingly.
“Nah. She’s just being nice.” Nicholas takes a quick sip from his glass. “I, on the other hand, don’t really care.”
Yeonjun’s eyes sharpen. “She literally said she liked it 5 seconds ago—“
Drink still to his lips, “Is your head that far up your ass?”
You place a warning hand on Nicholas’s shoulder. “Take it easy.” He looks to your hand before falling back in his seat with a huff of annoyance. “I am.”
Placing both his elbows on the table, “Feel free to not take it easy on me. See what happens.” Yeonjun rests his head on his clasped palms. Nicholas doesn’t say anything; he stares at him with eyes as sharp as daggers. At that, Yeonjun smiles, as if he won. “Hey, man, I get it. The friendzone isn’t an easy place to be.”
As if revitalized, Nicholas breaks out into a fit of laughter. “The friendzone? You’re fucking delusional—” His words leak out in a hurry, muffled by anger. He turns to you. “Is that what this is?” He gives you a once-over, then licks his lips.
“I um-“ The way he’s looking at you steals the words right out of your throat. You swallow nervously, sending all of Nicho’s attention to your neck. He’s eye-fucking you so shamelessly, your only option is to look away. “We- we are friends, Nicho,” you say it like a question.
Nicho meets your eyes, and for a moment, it feels like the room is holding its breath as if to call out your bluff. You see him chew on his bottom lip as his shoulders deflate like a popped balloon. “This is stupid.” Just like that, the moment’s gone and Nicho’s maneuvering his way out of the cramped booth.
Your mouth falls open before you can stop it. “Nicholas—“ You call out, but he doesn’t falter. Did he really just leave? You straighten, rubbing your knees under the table. A darkness grows in your stomach as you overanalyze the past few minutes. Shit shit shit.
Yeonjun observes, leaning back in his chair with a contemplative expression. He twists his lips in thought as he reaches for his drink. “Complicated,” he mumbles into the glass.
The air between you two grows awkward. “I um,” you can hardly look Yeonjun in the eye as you speak. “I should probably go check on him.” When you look to him, he’s drinking his drink with a sort of bored expression, and it only makes you feel worse.
“You seem like too nice of a girl to deal with shit like that.” He says casually.
You shrug, unsure. “Maybe.”
“One thing’s still bugging me though.” A smirk returns to his lips.
“What?” You tilt your head at him.
He looks between you and your half-full glass. “Did you really not like the drink?”
You smile, a genuine smile, then shake your head. A look of surprise passes over Yeonjun’s features. “You’re a smooth talker though.”
At that, his smirk softens. “Yeah, you too.”
━━
When you leave the event room, you quickly notice Nicholas is nowhere to be found. You circle by the restrooms, by the bar, by the entrance— No Nicho. You huff, slipping on your jacket as you brace yourself for the chill of outdoors.
Only once you leave the restaurant do you notice his familiar blonde head leaning against a wall. He’s over a handful of steps away from the door, under a warm lantern. “Hey, Drama-Queen?” You call out to him.
He turns to you, then quickly looks away. His phone was in his hand, per usual.
You walk up to him and instantaneously hit him in the shoulder. Sharp ass shoulder, you shake your fist out afterwards. “Don’t disappear like that.”
“I didn’t disappear.” He slides his phone into his pocket, still facing away from you.
“You walked away. Same fucking thing.” You fold your arms, now fully facing his shoulder.
He picks at his chipped nail polish. “Well, I wasn’t having fun anymore.”
“Doesn’t seem any more fun out here…” You kick at the ground aimlessly. The two of you are the only people in this lot full of cars, just you and the crickets beneath the bushes.
He peeks at you briefly, something soft written across his features. “I didn’t ask you to leave.”
You don’t say anything, because it’s true. For some reason you’re still out in the parking lot staring at nothing like a bunch of idiots. You glance at the luxury vehicles and the valet booth, unable to help but feel a little estranged from everything. This isn’t your world. Regardless, you know the feeling of waiting on the curb because you have nowhere else to go— or nowhere else you want to be. You don’t mind sharing that with him right now.
He sighs, cutting through your thoughts. “You know, you were kind of a shitty friend tonight.”
You freeze, stiffly turning to him again. What did he just say to you? “Excuse me?”
“I mean, I got up for 2 minutes, and I came back to someone else in my seat.” His hands find their way into his pockets, causing his jacket to flap anytime he tries to gesture with them.
“He wasn’t in your seat.”
He scoffs. “He might as well have been in my seat—”
“That seat was empty when you left. I don’t own the restaurant.” You furrow your brows at him.
“—And out of all people, it’s Choi fucking Yeonjun.” He goes on in disbelief. “That guy is a tool. You know that, right? Like, you could see through his shit, couldn’t you?” He turns to you with a pained expression like he needs to hear a verbal yes.
You don’t give it to him; you just stare. Finally, “I don’t know. It was my first time meeting him.”
He sighs dramatically, head lolling back against the wall of the establishment. “He’s literally everything you don’t like bottled into one. Didn’t you hear how stuck in the past he was?” His hands wrestle with the fabric cage of his jacket pockets.
“You’re pretty reminiscent yourself.” You shrug, not feeding into his temper tantrum.
Another huff of hot air. “He couldn’t let a minute go by without talking about high school.”
“Okay, I get it. You don’t like the guy.” You lean your back on the wall, too annoyed to face him.
At that, Nicholas’ eyebrows knit together tight enough to cause a headache. He doesn’t just ‘not like that guy’; he’s fucking pissed. He’s mad he stepped out to take that phone call. He’s mad someone had the audacity to approach you. And yeah, he’s livid that the person was Choi fucking Yeonjun. Where the fuck did he even come from? He’s overwhelmed by the whole thing. He already knew you don’t fucking like cosmopolitans.
Sure, does he sound like an asshole right now? Maybe. But he’s so close to pulling his hair out, he can hardly string words together. “This is so…” He just shakes his head. Fucked, this is so fucked.
“Nicholas,” you sigh, a hand running against your face in frustration.
“I need a minute,” he mumbles and shakes his head. He needs to ground himself.
Why does he have to be so fucking confusing? “I just—“
“I said I need a minute,” he snaps.
For a second, the crickets stop chirping, your heart stops beating, and even the valet in his booth stops pretending to listen in. This is exactly why the two of you weren’t together. Nicholas has the emotional intelligence of a pre-schooler with the passion of an Olympian. All the feelings, but nothing to back it up. And yet, you’re still here.
You watch in silence as a woman in a cocktail dress exits the restaurant and approaches the valet. You try to focus on the sound of the keys, or her heels on the pavement. It doesn’t work.
“If I’m a shitty friend, then you’re a bad friend.” You stomp around, so you’re standing in front of him with a pointed finger to his chest.
His eyes go wide, “A bad f-“
“Yes.” You lament. “You show up expecting to have your cake and eat it too: invading my personal space, bringing up the blonde hair, and now this whole jealous stunt like you’re—“
“Jealous?” He straightens, neck jutting out towards you. “Why would I be jealous—“
“I don’t know, Nicholas!” You bury your face in your hands, dizzy with anger. “Maybe you’re just greedy and want me all to yourself—“
“Now I’m greedy?” He says in disbelief after interrupting again. “Greedy because I want to spend time with the girl I literally came here to see—“
“Well, it’s not my birthday. It’s Giselle’s.” You fold your arms sternly. “That should be the reason you’re here. Not me.”
“Whatever.” He rolls his eyes. “I wanted to see you, sue me.”
An ounce of hope shoots down your spine, and you hate it. You stare at him, searching his eyes for honesty, but he refuses to look at you. It’s all so infuriating. “Stop making this harder for me than it already is.” The words come out like rods of steel: heavy and cold.
He hears your voice shake and can’t help but peer from the corner of his eye. His shoulders slump, finally becoming aware of his tone. “I’m not trying to… I just-“ His eyes wander. “This is hard for me too. I want-“ he bites his lip, silencing himself.
“What?”
He looks down at you, continuously gnawing at his bottom lip. Before you can sigh, he finally adds. “Do you remember that time we went to dinner at that fancy spot, De Marco’s or something? You were being a brat so I got you a slice of chocolate cake the size of your face and—”
“Okay? What the hell does that have to do with this?“
“You got a cosmopolitan.”
The confession almost makes you flinch. You actually didn’t remember that.
“You didn’t like it,” he adds, certainly.
“Can you imagine how out of my mind I felt when you asked him to order for you? Like he’s me,” he emphasizes with a finger pointed to his chest. “But he’s not. And then, knowing you won’t like it and having to shut up and watch because we’re not together— and I get it.” He sighs. “I know we’re not… you know, but it was just so…” His words trail off as his attention draws upward at the empty night sky.
“Hurtful?” You answer for him.
“Yeah.” His entire posture deflates, like a weight was taken from his shoulders.
Quiet takes over the conversation. There wasn’t much you could think to say. After a while, your phone pings.
Princess Giselle: Beomgyu’s giving me a birthday wish if ykwim ;P
Princess Giselle: Don’t wait on me lol
A small laugh slips past your lips. A moment passes.
Princess Giselle: Oop wait that sounded mean
Princess Giselle: Wya I wanna say bye before I disappear lmaoo
You: Have fun!
You: I’m not in the room anymore
Princess Giselle: Ykw someone else seems to be gone too…
Princess Giselle: Very very interesting…
Princess Giselle: Very very very very VERY interesting
You: Shut up and go get ur man
Princess Giselle:🏃🏻♀️➡️
“What?” Nicholas turns to you. His features look a lot softer than before, almost clueless.
Pocketing your phone, “I think I’m gonna head home for the night.”
“Hmm.” He twists his lips, in thought. “What about Giselle?”
You shrug, “She’s got her own night ahead of her.”
“I can drive you. You know, if you want.”
“Oh? Only if I want, huh?” You smirk at him, leaning your shoulder against the wall.
He nods, teeth going to bite his lip some more.
“What do you want?” You ask.
“To drive you home,” he answers, like second nature.
“Chase your dreams,” you toss out cheekily. Without another word, he makes his way to the valet. You didn’t realize how low his pants sat on his lips when you were inside. You can practically see his underwear when he shifts. You shake your head fondly; even at a corporate job, he’s still Nicho.
You spend most of the ride with your head leaning against the passenger-side window. You watch as buildings pass, reading store awnings and street signs in your head to distract from the man in the driver’s seat. His hand kept finding its way to the center console, tapping away to the beat of low music like he had the itch to reach for something. Even at the red lights, he couldn’t keep himself from tapping against the steering wheel. When the car reaches your place, you barely notice, hypnotized by his insistent tapping.
“Here we are.” He rasps, voice weak from not talking.
“Thanks,” you rise from your slouched position.
He leans a little against the driver’s door, so he can face you better. A hand remains lazily thrown over the wheel, still tapping and taking all your attention. “No problem.”
Your body moves to mirror him, leaning against the door you should be opening. “I’m surprised you remembered where to go.”
He smiles, looking past the windshield. “It wasn’t that long ago.”
“Depends on who you ask.” You cross your legs and don’t miss how Nicholas’ hands twitch at the movement.
“Probably feels like a million years for Lychee.” He smirks.
You laugh. “I think you’re thinking about dog years.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs. Honestly, he wasn’t thinking about anything but you. “Or maybe I understand your cat on a deeper level than you do.”
You roll your eyes, biting back a smile. “You wish.”
“You’re right, she’s a mama’s girl.” He huffs, slumping back. “I don’t blame her.”
“For all she knows, you abandoned her.” You challenge, inspecting your nails.
He laughs, leaning over the steering wheel. “Abandoned is crazy.”
You scoff. “Crazy accurate.”
He looks at you for a minute, then licks his lips. “The only way to fix that is if you let me see her.” The words sit heavily in the space between you two. You turn away, toward the window. Still staring, “Don’t freak out, I’m not trying to go up tonight.”
“Yeah, well, you’re staring at me like you want something.” You fixate on a dull lamppost outside the vehicle.
“I’m staring at you because I want to look at you, Y/N.” He releases a tiresome breath. “That’s all.” He leans his head on the headrest, gracelessly shaking his head.
You turn to him. He looks intense, vulnerable even. With a small smile, “You better say what’s actually on your mind before you explode or something.”
He shrugs again, “I’m just thinking about you.”
“Be serious,” You deadpan, punching his shoulder.
Nicho laughs incredulously, “What are you, a lie detector?“
“No, just a bullshit inspector.” You sass back.
“Oh yeah?” He leans over the center console. His smile doesn’t fade once. “How do you inspect bullshit?”
“I can smell it on you,” you lie. Really, you could see it in his eyes, that he had something more to say— that there might be something real below the surface.
He gives you a once-over from your spot leaning against the door. “You’re a little far to smell me, aren’t you?”
The longer he looks at you, the faster your heartbeat grows. “I’m not.”
Every cell in his body wants—no, needs you to move closer. He sniffs his collar and shrugs. “Maybe you should double-check because I don’t smell anything.”
Against your better judgment, you uncross your legs and lean toward the middle compartment. He extends his neck as if inviting you to get a whiff, while his chest rises and falls slowly. He breathes like his lungs are heavy.
The more you lean in, the more he can smell you, and the fuzzier his mind gets. He swallows, watching your eyes dart to his throat. All you smell is cologne, that stupid fucking cologne he always wore. That stupid cologne that still sets your core ablaze.
“So?” His deep voice almost makes your eyes flutter.
When you look up to respond, you can feel his breath. He’s too close to think. “What?”
He doesn’t say anything, choosing to tuck a loose hair behind your ear instead.
“Nicho…” your brain races.
He leans in like muscle memory and brushes his nose to yours; it’s cool like the night air. In one smooth breath, he kisses you. He cradles your face while your hand seeks refuge on his shoulder. It starts sweet, but before you can help it, you’re tilting your head searching for more.
Leaning in some more, he searches for somewhere to anchor his hand for balance. His hand slips from the console to the top of your thigh. Somehow his thumb finds its way between them, just barely reaching your heat. The hand that was once on your cheek forms a grip on the passenger headrest, so he can move freely.
You gasp, and he squeezes your thigh. Ignoring everything besides the feeling of him, your hand snakes up his neck into his nape.
Still, he wants more. He tried to wiggle his thumb up, but you’re practically suffocating it between your legs. You shift your hips down, bringing his thumb a little closer to where he wants it. The heat radiating off of you almost makes him malfunction. “Missed you.” The words slide off his tongue and onto yours.
Without words, your thighs squeeze around his thumb, and he sighs, breaking the kiss. He rests his head on your shoulder, unable to look at you as you’re practically a panting mess at this point. He felt lightheaded, like all the blood in his body had drained to his dick and the one thumb wedged between your legs.
Finally, he faces you. “I uh- you-“ He shakes his head, thoughts too jumbled to talk.
“You said you’re not coming up, right?” You say in a sort of daze.
His shoulders deflate as his eyes look between your legs, then back to your face. “Uhm, yeah. I did.”
“Right.” You mirror his posture. “I guess I uh—“
“I’ll see you soon.” He says earnestly.
Already regaining your sense, “Yeah, maybe…” There goes the bullshit again.
“For a date,” he adds, and you snap up to meet his eye. “A real one… If that’s okay with you.”
“No bullshit?” You raise a brow.
He smiles, leaning back in his seat. “Do you smell any?”
“Not yet.”
“Good.” He pats the top of your head, effectively messing up your hair. “Feel free to keep testing me.”
“I will,” you grab the door handle.
“You should.” He smirks.
“Good,” you steal the last word as you step out of the car. He watches you until you're inside your building, and you can’t help but laugh to yourself. That sure was dinner and a show…
━━━━━━━━✰━━━━━━━━
A/N: Thanks for reading!!! This was written in separate sessions, but I hope it still flows alright :) Likes, comments, and reblogs are much, much appreciated <3
