dry house, wet clothes (three)
𓍯𓂃𓂃𓂃 dry house, wet clothes, three
pairing. johnny suh x afab!reader x jeong jaehyun
genre. angst, fluff, eventual smut, slow burn (for jaehyun), friends to lovers (for johnny)
warnings. NEW (MILD) SMUT TAGS ADDED! swearing, mentions of drinking, kissing, groping, dry humping (kind of? basically) smut tags will be added when it applies. big miscommunication trope, it is what it is. it’s so much angst i’m so sorry
word count. 9,122
plot. the four of you have spent years building the world around you, your friendship, your weekends together hidden in jaehyun's loft. you, mark, johnny and jaehyun. shaking the foundation of that by being in love with your best friend, jaehyun, is a risk you've never been confident enough to take. but, johnny suh is confident and johnny suh has been known to shake the world around you.
other's mentioned. mark lee, dong sicheng (again. it’s always missing winwin hours, i fear), kim jungwoo, lee taeyong, nakamoto yuta, na jaemin, lee jeno, lee donghyuck (haechan)
author's note. it’s the halloween chapter! johnny is so corny, jaehyun is miserable. i promise (i hope) that you enjoy it! there is mention of y/n’s skin glowing in the moon, but i don’t literally mean she’s glowing in the dark - just the way moonlight plays off of the highlights in her skin. i hope that’s okay! the next chapter won’t be out until nov. 1st, mostly because it takes place on nov. 1st and that just makes sense to me.
taglist (open). @xiaojunsdino @yoursyuno
playlist. here !
“Is it helping?”
You closed the manuscript and pressed it against your chest, “We’re halfway through.”
Jaehyun leaned, arms crossed and back pressed against the piano across the room. He watched you; how your eyes followed the sky, the clouds sweeping across it to occasionally reveal stars. With you, from the moment Jaehyun met you, it had always been the sky, the stars, the sun and the moon. He’d watch you get lost, he'd listen to you tell him constellations until he had them memorized - their shape and every star sprinkled in them. Jaehyun was afraid he’d lose you to the sky, when he was young. He was scared you’d float away.
His mother had told him, in an effort to calm him, “We’ll tie rocks to her feet, so she’ll never float too far.”
He’d said, “No. I can do it. I can keep her on the ground.”
“And how long will you do that?”
“Always.”
And he did. The older he got, however, the more Jaehyun realized how much you needed to float away, sometimes. The stars found their home in your eyes, filling them with sparkles whenever you looked up. Everything from the way you spoke to the way you thought to the way you would breathe would change when you were floating above, lost in the sky. So, Jaehyun let you get lost, he let you float. He encouraged it; tracing your favorite constellations, pointing out clouds, noting the pops of color you adored in a sunset when you forgot to look up. He’d watch you float, watch your eyes light up, and hold you steady so you wouldn’t get too far; so he could ground you again when you needed him to.
He always would.
Jaehyun knew you would do the same for him. Always, always, always.
He stood up, feet gliding across the wood floors until he knelt down on the mattress next to you and crashed down, “Is that a yes, then?”
You turned your head to look at him, his hair was pushed back off his forehead and, for the first time in a while, you wished he’d cut it shorter. You had forgotten how good he looked, like this. Sighing, you shifted to face him entirely, Lee Haechan’s first novel between you, “Yeah, it’s helping.”
With a grin, Jaehyun picked up the block of sloppily bound pages. He flipped through the typed words and your scribbled annotations, humming, “You said he’s younger than Mark, right?”
“I think by a year. Why?”
“His view on…” Jaehyun paused, suddenly very aware of you with the stars in your eyes, looking at him. The word felt heavy in his throat, creeping up until it sat on his tongue, weighed it down and kept him from speaking. He let out a breath, “His perspective on love is mature.”
The way Jaehyun’s fingers slid down the pages made your skin tingle. You swallowed, “Do you think he’s too young to have experienced love the way he writes about it?”
“I think, if he’s pulling from experience, it’s probably his first love.” Jaehyun placed the manuscript back down, fingers dangerously close to brushing yours. You pulled your hand to your chest, busying idle fingers with the silver chain around your neck. He continued, “Did your first love make you feel like that?”
An exaggerated groan slipped from your lips and you rolled back onto your back, eyes up towards the stars, “I wish everyone would stop bringing him up.”
Jaehyun laughed, switching positions so he was now looking at you, head resting on his palm, “Who else brought up Sicheng?”
“Johnny…” You caught yourself. Your teeth latched onto your lip and acted like a barrier for whatever you were going to let slip. It was simple enough to say Johnny and leave it at that. But the question and his name and the way Jaehyun was looking at you reminded you that you were hiding something from him, “Johnny did.”
He tried his hardest to blink away his reaction. It was another moment when he didn’t need to know the details, but Jaehyun couldn’t keep himself from asking, cool and collected, “Oh yeah? When?”
You closed your eyes, counting seconds between breaths, “Uh, last Monday.”
“Last Monday?” Sunday night you all had gone to the movie. Sunday night Johnny confessed to you. Sunday night Jaehyun told you he’d support your decision and then Monday you and Johnny…you and Johnny. Jaehyun rolled to his back as well, “Monday after he…”
“Yeah.” Something inside you was itching to tell him everything; to tell Jaehyun and watch his reaction the way you did when you’d kissed the corner of his lips. You wanted to see how he shifted, if he shifted, and hope that he’d tell you that he felt something, too. The only thing that came out was half an explanation, “We saw another movie and it..it just came up, I guess.”
He nodded and hummed and tapped his fingers on his stomach. Jaehyun asked you, casually, like you had his support, “So you two have been hanging out?”
You nodded and sighed and played with your necklace, “A little, yeah.”
Then it was silent. There was no wind, no music, no bustling from the street below. There was just you and him and silence, looking up and staying still. Neither one of you moved or spoke for too long, unsure of what came next. What could follow a half confession that you might have accepted Johnny’s feelings. What came after Jaehyun offering you support he didn’t know if he could give. Eventually, you heard him swallow, gulp down the silence, and ask, “Did you ever feel that way about him?”
You could have choked, head snapping to Jaehyun, “About Johnny?”
“No.” His eyes were wide, staring back at you. His attempt to change the subject back was twisted and Jaehyun felt like he was going to scream, “About Sicheng. Did you ever feel the way your writer does about Sicheng?”
“Oh.” It was easier to collect yourself than you thought, “Oh. I…I don’t know. I think it was different.”
Jaehyun agreed, “Love is always different.”
“Maybe he’s not writing from experience.” You looked at the manuscript dividing you two, Jaehyun’s hand still resting next to it. You stared at the sheets of paper like they’d give you the answer outright. Eventually, they might, “Maybe that's how he wants love to feel?”
“Maybe.”
Another silence until you asked, “What time is it?”
“After midnight.”
You looked at him, “Why didn’t you stop me?”
Jaehyun was already looking at you when you turned. The loft was dimly lit; only a small lamp and the light of the waning moon. He didn’t look away when he told you, “I was enjoying it.”
You told him, “I should go so you can sleep.”
His hand had moved up, resting on the mattress between you. Jaehyun pulled yours from around your necklace, “Just stay.”
“You have to work in the morning.” It was a good enough reason. It was Monday night and, come Tuesday morning, Jaehyun did have to work. It was Monday night and, come Tuesday morning, you were spending the entire day with Johnny and hiding it from Jaehyun, “And I have plans in the morning.”
“I can drop you off at home in the morning. It’s not like it’s out of the way.” Jaehyun wasn’t budging, physically or metaphorically. He settled himself into the mattress and draped his free arm across his eyes, “Stay here. It’s too late and too cold to go home. And the skies are supposed to clear up around one.”
“Fine.” You sighed. “I’ll stay.”
Sitting up, you pulled your sweatshirt over your head, rubbing at your bare arms when the chill bit your skin. Jaehyun finally moved again, standing to turn off the lamp across the loft. He could see the outline of your body, your silhouette stretching into comfort and he tried not to gulp too loudly at the sight. The moon kissed your skin just as well as the sun, hugging to the shadows and making you glow in the darkness. Jaehyun took his sweatshirt off, as well, needing to feel your skin against his where he could.
The way his t-shirt clung to his body stopped your heart and you hoped he couldn’t see the way your mouth opened at the sight; grateful for the darkness. The two of you settled in, side by side, arms brushing against each other. Jaehyun slowly lifted his hand, fingertips brushing along your arm. His eyes focused up, a smile tugging at his lips, his heart pounding against his chest. He flexed his fingers, “Hand.”
You gave it to him, eyes watching the clouds cling to the night sky while they could. Jaehyun dropped your hands onto his stomach, fingers laced with yours, “Your hands are warm.”
“Yours are cold.” He looked at you, hoping his eyes captured the stars the way yours did. Hoping he could capture you the way you had captured him, “Come here.”
Your chest was rising and falling with every breath you took. Jaehyun watched as moonlight filled the parts of you normally shadowed; the dips in your collarbone, the slope of your neck to your shoulder hidden by your hair. Glowing beside him, beautiful beside him. Comfortable, safe and grounded beside him. The final moments before you’d float towards the sky in your sleep and Jaehyun would hold you steady; keep you close to the constellations with his soft patterns on your skin, all the while on Earth with him, wrapped in his arms. He’d hold you when you became restless and kiss your head to remind you he was there.
You rolled closer to him, Jaehyun rolled to his side. You pulled your hands, still molded together, up to rest by your cheek against his chest. Your other arm wrapped around his waist, his came to rest at the middle of your back. You could feel his heart beating on the back of your hand; a steady, strong, stable beat. Jaehyun could feel your breathing even out against his palm. It was always so much easier, falling asleep, when the two of you were intertwined like this. Just like this.
You whispered, “Goodnight, Jaehyun.”
He kissed the top of your head, “Goodnight.”
Then he got to tracing; Cassiopeia. On your shoulder blades, the small of your back, your shoulder, your arm. Jaehyun traced the home of the heart nebula into your skin, as gently as he could, hoping you’d feel it; the stars, the heart, his heart, the fire.
Your voice drawn out, worn from reading aloud, quiet against the skin of his hand by your lips. You kissed his knuckles and mumbled, “Cassiopeia.”
Then you were floating away, Jaehyun holding you near when he repeated, “Cassiopeia.”
📻
You woke up to the smell of coffee and citrus twisting around in the air and filling your nostrils. The sun was just barely up, pulling itself over the horizon like it was resisting the start of day, as well. Jaehyun wasn’t next to you, replaced by a mug of steaming coffee and a plate full of cut and peeled oranges. A note was leaning against the mug, Jaehyun’s handwriting scribbled on a clean white piece of paper; Come downstairs when you’re up.
So you did, popping an orange slice into your mouth, securing the plate and your phone and the mug in one hand, pulling the door open with the other. The morning chill only had a few seconds to bite at you, while you stepped down the outdoor staircase and around the corner of his house to the back door. Jaehyun was in the kitchen, half dressed for work and tapping away on his phone. To see him like this, to watch him so quietly get ready for his day, it always felt intimate. Like you were getting a glimpse into his future, the things his partner would see every day and it tugged on your heart to consider that it might not be you, anymore, who sees it.
The thought that, one day, you and Jaehyun wouldn’t fall asleep wrapped around each other like intertwining vines could absolutely break you, if you dwelled too long. Thinking of someone else standing across from him in the kitchen, securing his tie around his neck, sharing cups of coffee and knowing smiles every day could felt like something close to the end of the world.
So, you pushed the thought away and pulled at the sliding door, doing everything you could to smile and tell him, “Good morning.”
Jaehyun looked up, lips hinting at a smile at the sight of you. He’d spent most of his morning routine with his mind clouded by thoughts that, one day and maybe one day soon, he might not be able to wake up next to you as he did today. He battled those thoughts with the image and the memories of all the times he had woken up like that; just the two of you. The sight of you sleeping and your arms wrapped around him and how hard it was to pull himself from that. Jaehyun busied himself with bathing and getting dressed and making your coffee and his, together, just how you liked.
He moved as quietly as he could so he wouldn’t wake you, careful with you as he always was. Jaehyun was happy to see you awake, though; hood pulled up around your head, sipping on coffee and eating oranges at the counter across from him. He couldn’t picture anyone else in that spot, he didn’t want to.
Jaehyun put his phone down, flattening his palms on the marble of the island, “Good morning.”
You asked him, “What time do you need to leave?”
He looked at the clock on the stove and told you, “About twenty minutes.”
“Okay.” The two of you only looked at each other; unwavering eye contact and growing, growing, knowing smiles on your lips. As though to be here, simple and relaxed, for both of you, was everything. You finally blinked, “Do you want to start the next chapter, tonight?”
“Sure.” He rounded the counter, standing directly in front of you with his tie loose around his neck. He pulled the ends away from his chest and towards you, “Help?”
You took them, but you quipped, “What do you do when I’m not here?”
He grinned, teasing and his tone playful, “Tie it backwards in the mirror.”
Your fingers twisted the silk of his burgundy tie, wrapping it around itself and securing it like you always did. You buttoned up the last few buttons of his shirt, hands threatening to shake, eyes trained on the way Jaehyun swallowed. Then, you patted his chest, brushed invisible dust from his shoulders and said, “There.”
Jaehyun asked, “Look okay?”
“Looks good.” Your mouth was suddenly and desperately dry, taking him in; his tailored grey pants, his crisp white button down and the contrast of his tie. He was worlds away from how he normally looked, to you; a dressed up, dolled up version of your Jaehyun. Your Jaehyun. You nodded your head, swallowing for the sake of your throat and swallowing every thought that threatened to slip out, “You look really good.”
And because Jaehyun couldn’t convince himself not to, because the memory of you doing the same lingered on his mind, he leaned down and kissed the corner of your lips. The same spot you’d kissed on him, desperation of his own wanting to keep you here in this moment and in every moment with him. He lingered there as long as he could, straightening back up and saying, “Thank you. I’ve gotta get some paperwork together, then we’ll go.”
Your lips burned, every inch of you did, the way it always did when Jaehyun touched you, brushed against you, put his lips to your skin even in the most innocent way. It was hard to know if you were breathing, it was hard to think of anything else. Still, you spoke.
“Okay.” It came out like a whisper, “I’ll go get my stuff.”
“Okay.” He said, smiling like he did and like he always would. Smiling and heart pumping loudly. Smiling and burning on the inside, hands shaking. Smiling so he could convince himself you’d never catch on. He pointed to your plate and coffee, turning to walk down the hallway, “Finish your breakfast.”
And you nodded.
The things you needed for the day were packed into your tote, the manuscript laying perfectly at the center of the mattress. You came back down the stairs once more, turning right instead of left to pack yourself into Jaehyun’s car. He drove the two of you down the street, humming and tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. You watched the same houses you always saw pass by, the morning sun tapping at their windows and the windows of Jaehyun’s car.
Another familiar feeling. Another routine. Something simple and comfortable and ordinary.
When Jaehyun pulled up to your house, you stopped thinking, stopped taking anything in, stopped moving, stopped breathing. Jaehyun did the same, white noise filling his ears. He didn’t want to know and you didn’t want to tell him. You fell asleep listening to his heartbeat. He woke up tangled in you and it took everything in him to pull away from that. You’d kissed the corner of his lips and he’d kissed yours.
And now Johnny was leaning against your gate, waving at the two of you. You didn’t look at Jaehyun, you didn’t know if he looked at you. But, you heard him, as quiet as he tried to be, say one word, “Plans.“
You couldn’t place the tone of it. Jaehyun didn’t know either. Somewhere, at a perfectly centered point between his mind that was bitter, maybe angry and not able to justify it, definitely jealous and his heart that was cracking and trying not to break, Jaehyun lost control of how exactly he wanted to say that. If he even wanted to say it, at all. He blinked, you said, “Yeah, um…yeah.”
“Mm.” Jaehyun didn’t want to ask and you didn’t want to tell him. He nodded, hands sliding around the steering wheel, an attempt at distraction. He didn’t know how, but Jaehyun brought himself to lift and hand and wave at Johnny. His friend, Johnny. His best friend, Johnny. He told you, a simple smile on his face, “Well, have fun.”
You finally looked at Jaehyun, away from Johnny who had busied himself on his phone. You felt caught and you couldn’t pinpoint by who, “Yeah. I’ll see you later, Jae.”
“Yeah.” He said, still smiling, “Later.”
You climbed out of the car then, standing just outside the closed door and looking at Johnny over the roof. Jaehyun and his black sedan parked between the two of you and the entire day you’d decided to spend together. Johnny smiled so you tried to do the same. From inside, Jaehyun waved at the two of you before he drove off, so the only thing between you and Johnny was the space Jaehyun had now left behind.
Johnny greeted, “Hey.”
So you said it back.
He studied your face for a moment, head tilted to the side, before Johnny asked you, “Are you alright?”
You nodded, pushing your hair away from your face. You were longing for one moment of silence between conflicting thoughts, wishing for the ability to quiet your own mind. Something in you was determined to enjoy your day with Johnny. What was left of you after that was lingering on the moments with Jaehyun in the morning and the fact that you’d go back to him tonight. If you tuned in to them long enough, you might throw up.
Johnny looked concerned, pushing himself away from the stone wall and out into the middle of the street in front of you. He pressed his hand to your forehead, eyes scanning any part of you he could see, “You feeling okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Somewhere between the truth and a lie, a comfortable meeting ground for the two, “I just woke up, I still have to get ready.”
Johnny’s hands slid down your arms, slipping underneath them to rest on your hips. You couldn’t stop yourself from glancing down the street, even knowing Jaehyun was long gone. Ducking down, Johnny caught your attention again and smiled, telling you, “Go get cleaned up. I can wait.”
“Out here?”
He laughed, “Preferably not.”
“Okay, yeah. Come inside.” You pulled hands away from you, stepping towards the strip of pavement in front of your house. He followed, closely and with a silent laugh. After you’d opened the gate, you looked over your shoulder to say, “You really meant all day, huh?”
“I really did.” He waited a moment, listening to the sound of your keys jingling and unlocking your door before he asked, “Did you stay over at Jaehyun’s?”
You nodded, slipping your shoes off, watching Johnny follow and do the same, “Yeah. He’s helping me get through the book I’m editing.”
“Oh, nice.” It was so genuine, everything he said and did and thought, likely. Johnny took hold of your shoulders and turned you around, towards the stairs, “Go on, get ready. I’ll be down here, okay?”
“Okay.”
On the third step you turned back to look at him. Johnny had his hands in his pockets, standing in your foyer where he fit comfortably, looking up at you. His head tilted again, puppy-like and hair flopping to the side. After a moment of silence, with nothing but easily closed space between the two of you, Johnny moved. He took three steps to stand one step below you and he leaned closer, closer still until his lips were so close you could feel him breathing.
Johnny grinned, wolffish and ever-the-tease, then he swooped down to kiss your cheek. His lips lingered there for a moment before they brushed against your ear and he told you, “Go get ready.”
So, you did.
📻
October was ending, so was the week.
“Are you almost here?”
He told you, “Almost.”
“Honk when you’re here.” You fussed with your hair, flipping and twisting and pinning back strands that fell out of place, “Did you already pick up Jungwoo?”
“We’ll get him on the way.” You heard a faint honk from outside, then he told you, “I’m here.”
“I heard.” You laughed, taking the feathered white wings from where they’d been tucked under your arm and securing them onto your back by their satin straps. “Okay, I’m coming out.”
October was ending and you’d spent the last week of it falling asleep next to him, highlighter and ink pen smudged into your fingertips. He’d woken up with your fingerprints on his neck, his jaw, behind his ear, his chest and his arms. If he could hide them well enough, he’d leave them for the day, keeping a secret under his crisp button down. At least until he saw you again, that night.
And you’d wake up to texts from Johnny, asking if you were free or telling you good morning.
You’d wake up to notes from Jaehyun when he had to leave while you slept or fresh coffee next to the mattress.
You’d wake up to Johnny on your doorstep, bringing you breakfast.
You’d wake up to Jaehyun still snoring and the sun barely rising, tempting the loft with light. Traces of you illuminated on his skin.
And now October was ending; it was frigid, the chill pinching at the parts of your skin that were exposed as you stepped outside and locked up. You could hear a car door open, his footsteps on the pavement, the clack of your own heels coming after. Your dress was whipping around your calves in the breeze you were creating, hurrying down the path to get to him; to the warmth of car, the warmth of his him. He was leaning against the passenger side door when you finally looked up, staring at you intently with his hands deep in his pockets.
Halfway to him, you said, “Hey.”
And when the wind fluttered the wings, when it swept his breath away, Jaehyun smiled and said it back, “Hey.”
He looked like an absolute dream; suspenders secure on his shoulders, holding his loose white shirt in place while it, too, rustled.
Jaehyun was holding his breath, watching every step you took and counting the seconds until you were directly in front of him. He was in a trance, mind blank but for the image of you and he didn’t know how to shake himself free of that. You had stopped moving and he hadn’t moved an inch, the two of you taking each other in like you hadn’t woken up together. Finally, he spoke. The sound of a car passing urging him to make sound, any sound, of his own.
“You look…” He paused, swallowing and blinking slowly, like whatever Jaehyun was about to say had been lost in his mind. He stood up straight, “Like an angel.”
And you laughed, Jaehyun did as well, his dimples distracting you from saying anything back for only a moment. Slowly you nodded your head and wrapped your arms around yourself, “You look…what are you?”
Jaehyun didn’t answer, not directly, he only opened the passenger door and said, “Let’s go get Jungwoo.”
Without a word, you climbed into his car. The conversation changed, it drifted, it filled the car with a sound combating the hum of the radio until you were outside Jungwoo’s apartment. And when you saw Jungwoo stumbling over his own dress, the way his wig fell into his eyes while he tried to balance his phone and his keys and a half finished iced Americano, you laughed again. Turning to Jaehyun, you scrunched your nose up; his ears burned at the sight, “Jack and Rose, huh?”
Jaehyun nodded, hand secured on the gearshift between you. If he would reach six inches further, he could put his hand on your thigh. He thought about it, the way the fabric of your dress would feel, the heat of your skin, how you’d settle into it like it was completely natural. It might have been, but Jaehyun hesitated and he thought; he wouldn’t just reach. Instead, he smiled and said, “It was Jungwoo’s idea.”
You turned to watch Jungwoo nearing the car, smiling at the sight of you, almost tripping once again. You could feel Jaehyun’s eyes on you, the way his fingers stretched around the gear shift. If you reached just six inches you could wrap your fingers around his and hold his hand; feel his warmth in the smallest way possible, help or hinder him from driving before you settled your hands on your lap. Like it was completely natural. But, you kept your eyes on Jungwoo and swallowed, voice not wavering when you said, “I love it. It’s a perfect idea.”
Then Jungwoo was in the car, clambering in until he was the only thing settled between the three of you. Jaehyun’s hand stretched again, yours played with the hem of your dress and you both let Jungwoo carry the conversation, like it was completely natural.
📻
Yuta’s house was warm; bodies filling almost every space and contrasting the chill the night brought. He was nowhere in sight when the three of you walked in, but you’d come to expect it. Jaehyun had a hand on your back, keeping you close to him and pressed between himself and Jungwoo. Your wings brushed against people, the walls, the narrow spaces you pulled yourself through until you’d all landed in the kitchen.
Jaehyun said, “I’ll get you a drink.”
Jungwoo said, “There’s Mark.”
You said, “I wonder if Taeyong is coming.”
But every sound mixed in with the chatter and the music and the shuffling of feet, clacking of heels, barks of laughter. It was chaos. But, once again, it was expected of Yuta’s Halloween-slash-Birthday Party. So, you stood with your palms pressed to the countertop and tried to take in as much of it as you could. Someone bumped into your wings again, you heard Jungwoo hollering a “hello” to someone across the house. The crowd shifted like a kaleidoscope before you, new shapes and bodies and costumes rotating in an uncertain pattern between rooms. Jungwoo was right, Mark was close to the edge of a group, from the neck down dressed like Spider-Man, a bright smile on his face.
Jaehyun found his way back to you, pressing a plastic cup into your hand and turning to do the same for Jungwoo before taking a sip of his own drink, “Who is Mark talking to?”
“I think…” You squinted over the edge of your cup, mulling over answers as you swallowed down the alcohol, “It looks like Jaemin.”
Jaehyun nodded, observing the crowd as you were. He saw him, then. Johnny as a knight, Johnny looking at you. Johnny on his way over. When the music paused, when there was a break between songs and Jaehyun could swear he heard Johnny’s chainmail clinking, it hit him. Maybe the alcohol, maybe the increasingly hot air, maybe the noise as everyone rushed to dance to whatever song was playing. It clicked and Jaehyun felt sick, dizzy, desperate for stability.
Johnny looking at you. Johnny on his way over. Johnny as a knight. Johnny as your Romeo. Jaehyun cleared his throat and said, “You’re Juliet.”
You only glanced at him sideways, maybe afraid to look at him dead on. Between the feeling of Jaehyun’s arm brushing against yours, the sound of his voice you’d never hear clearly enough to place and the alcohol settling in your stomach, you felt a heat rush to your face. You had seen him, too, watched as Johnny weaved through the crowd and his grin and the way he looked at you when you repeated, “I’m Juliet.”
Jungwoo was still close enough to hear, but you’d never know if he was listening when Jaehyun said, “You wore a couple costume with Johnny?”
“I…” You had to pause, you had to blink. Johnny was so close that maybe he’d be able to read your lips, be able to read your body language, be able to read the way Jaehyun was looking at you better than you ever could. You wondered, only for half a second, when you’d become so out of touch with the way Jaehyun moved and spoke and thought, your heart plummeted only to shoot back up at an alarming pace, “I guess so.”
Jaehyun didn’t wait, didn’t hesitate or think about it. He was only six inches from your ear when his words flowed through them, “So does that mean you’re a couple?”
You looked at him then, losing Johnny for the moment it took you to swallow and say, “I don’t know Jaehyun.” It didn’t sound bitter coming from your lips, maybe confused, but it tasted bitter on your tongue. You looked over Jaehyun’s shoulder at Jungwoo, something settling inside you that you couldn’t pinpoint and raising your eyebrow, “You wore a couple costume with Jungwoo.”
Jaehyun glanced at his counterpart, down at his drink, across the counter where Johnny had been stopped by someone just briefly enough for Jaehyun to chide, “It’s not the same thing.”
Johnny was in front of you then, smiling and reaching out for your hand. Johnny was in front of you, stopping anything you might have said to Jaehyun. Johnny was in front of you and you reached six inches to take his hand when he said, “There’s my Juliet.”
And when you took it, when Johnny pulled you away and Jaehyun choked down the lump in his throat, Jungwoo put his arm around his Jack Dawson and said, “I think you picked the wrong Leonardo DiCaprio.”
And Jaehyun tried to take that in. He tried to rationalize how he'd been with everything for the last two weeks; every look you gave Johnny, the way he’d danced you down the street, the way Johnny watched you when you weren’t paying attention. The way Johnny had stolen you away at the festival to dance again, spin you around and pull you near. The way Johnny pulled you to dance, right then. Always dancing.
Always dancing.
Jaehyun thought you must have been dizzy from all the dancing, from the twists and turns and loops Johnny pulled you into. But, maybe if you were dizzy it was better. Jaehyun took another drink. Maybe if he was dizzy, even for a little while, it was better.
Maybe if both of you were dizzy it would make all of this feel completely natural.
📻
Johnny had you in the center of the living room; wings askew and hair falling into your eyes. He spun you and spun you and spun around you until you felt like maybe he was what kept the whole world spinning. The lazy grin on his face made your drunken heart swell. It would do the same thing, sober, so long as he kept looking at you like that. Neither of you were following a distinguishable rhythm; you were dancing to the song and Mark’s laughter and the sound of the floorboards creaking under your feet, Johnny was dancing to the music and Mark’s laughter and ping pong balls bouncing off Yuta’s dining room table.
Either way, you let him lead you.
Either way, he laughed and spun you once more.
And when you stumbled over your wavering feet, Johnny caught you and held you close enough that the ends of his hair brushed against your face. He smiled more, if he could, he’d smiled until it hurt looking at you like this. Johnny didn’t pull back and you didn’t think to ask him to, pressed together in front of all your friends and so blissfully drunk. He told you, “You look so beautiful, Juliet.”
“Yeah?” It was a whisper lost in the chaos. You spoke louder when you told him, “You look beautiful too, Romeo.”
Johnny seemed shocked, he put on a good show of it, “I do?”
And with calm, alcohol laced certainty, you said, “Always. Always beautiful.”
It came out slurred but clear enough. The sound hit his ears and Johnny considered asking to borrow your wings so he could float away. He knew he’d had too much to drink, but it felt so much like the night everything changed for him, the night your Knight looked at you and saw Juliet. So, Johnny pulled you upright and steadied you when you wobbled again. He waited, he watched and when he knew he could get away with it, Johnny leaned down and said, “I’m going to kiss you.”
You looked, too. The mass of bodies had thinned and spread out throughout the house. The two of you were tucked inside a small crowd, in a circle and world of your own, mostly blocked - blocked enough. So, you nodded, “Okay.”
And when Johnny kissed you, the room that had settled around you started spinning again. His lips, his lips, pulled you in as his arms did, wrapping you up in Johnny and holding you there. You could smell his cologne clinging to him, the taste of the cinnamon whiskey on his lips. Then, he pulled away faster than you wanted, faster than either of you wanted. Bug eyed, you shook your head and breathed out, “More.”
“More?” His breath was just as strained, “More.”
Johnny pulled you from your bubble, popping it to drag you through the living room, then the kitchen, outside into the yard and behind the biggest tree that had grown. Both of you were breathless, still, even more. Because you wanted more, you needed more of Johnny. He needed more of you. Your wings folded slightly around the trunk of the tree when he urged you against it, chest rising and falling until it bumped against Johnny’s.
He asked again, breath dancing in a cloud between you, “More?”
You nodded, licking your lips and running your hands up his arms, the cool metal armor he’d strapped to himself for just one night, “Please.”
So he gave you more, mind clouded, mind thrilled, mind lost. Johnny leaned down to kiss your lips like everything he needed was secured within them, slowly urging them open. His hands settled on your hips, their favorite place to be, with an almost bruising grip. The rumble of bass from inside the house opposed your heart hammering in your chest, Johnny’s pounding in his own. Your fingers laced in the strands of his hair at the nape of his neck and he almost begged you to stop before you tugged at them and he let out the sweetest moan; more melodic than any song you’d heard all night.
He moaned your name, the sound leaving his mouth and filling yours, “My Juliet.”
“Johnny.” More music. Better music. The sound of an angel. Johnny’s hands took hold of your thighs, pulling you up and wrapping them around his waist. His hips were grinding up against you, pulling sounds from you he didn’t know he was so desperate to hear until then. The bark of the tree scraped at your back, tearing away the feathers of your wings and dirtying up your dress. Johnny’s hands squeezed at your thighs to pull you down as he rolled his hips up, “Fuck, Johnny.”
And all at once, he stopped.
“This can’t happen here.” His voice was so low, thick and strained. You knew he was right, “We have to…shit…not here. Not now and not drunk. But, fuck, I want you so bad. I just…”
“Me too.” He paused all movement then, Johnny stopped and he opened his eyes, waiting for you to do the same. It shouldn’t have shocked him, but every time you moved closer to him, every bit you let him in, was everything to him. Intoxicating, even when drunk. He breathed, so you did too and reminded him, “I want you, too, Johnny.”
He wanted to point out that you were drunk. Johnny wasn’t cynical, but he would always wonder how much of this moment was encouraged by coconut and pineapple flavored courage. He didn’t place your feet back onto the ground, he only took you in. The white freckles you’d painted on your cheeks, the shimmer around your eyes and small streaks of mascara that had smeared throughout the night.
You were so impossibly beautiful to him. Always, as you had said, and especially in that moment.
“Breathe.” He was sobering up, in a way that made sense to him. Johnny was sobering up in a way that made him brush your hair back and kiss you one last time. He was sober in the way that urged him to seek out Jaehyun and Jungwoo to take you home for the night. Sober in a way you were miles away from, “Breathe with me.”
“I’m breathing.” Your words were still slurred. Johnny laughed, hands dropping your legs slowly and coming up to hold your face. Your labored breathing evened out in his hold, eyes locked on his in the darkness, “Johnny?”
“I’m okay. We’re okay.” Before you had the chance to worry, he assured you, “I just think we should get you home. Let’s both get home, okay?”
And, feeling the weight of the party and your wings and the alcohol, you nodded, “Okay.”
He found Jaehyun and Jungwoo, leaving you with Mark and Jaemin in the living room. Mark was mumbling the words to a song, tapping the beat onto your shoulders as you tried to hold each other steady. He leaned to look at Jaemin over your shoulder, “Are we getting food?”
Jaemin shrugged, “Jeno isn’t answering.”
Like Mark hadn’t heard the answer, he turned back to you and offered, “Come with us to get food. I miss you.”
You laughed, “I can’t. You can’t.”
“Why can’t I get food?”
“No. I can’t get food. I’m going with Jaehyun, Johnny and Jungwoo.” You leaned your head on his shoulder, “You can’t miss me because you see me all the time.”
Mark snickered, drunk and boyish and falling over himself, “That’s a lot of J’s.”
“Too many.” Your hand reached out to pat his shoulder, where his shoulder should have been, where you swore his shoulder was a second ago. The sight of your hand flapping aimlessly pulled a loud laugh from both of you. “I’m so tired.”
You could hear Jungwoo before you saw the three of them, forehead settled on Mark’s shoulder, tuning into the way the world spun without Johnny’s help. He laughed and pulled at your hands, guiding you from Mark, “I got her, Johnny.”
And with a nod, you stepped away from Mark. The combination of lingering intoxication and sleep creeping in had you wobbling again. You hadn’t remembered feeling so drunk until you stopped moving, until you stopped spinning, until Johnny had pulled you outside. You shook your head, letting Jungwoo pull you more and reminding Mark, “Let me know when you get home. Love you, Mark.”
The youngest smiled, “Love you.”
The first day of November had already begun, only barely and still hidden in the lingering Halloween shadows. It took you sixteen incertain steps for you to stumble, missing the last step of Yuta’s porch. Jaehyun and Johnny were waiting at the bottom and the sight of it launched your stomach up into your throat. Johnny’s lips were swollen still, pink and plump and you wanted so badly to kiss him again. To feel the cool metal of his costume armor under your fingertips, pressed against you.
And Jaehyun was looking directly at you, keys jingling in his hands while Johnny spoke to him. November wind swept Jaehyun’s shirt open and flush against him, your fingerprints he hadn’t washed away peeking out. If Johnny had made your world spin tonight, Jaehyun had made it stop. If you wanted the coolness of Johnny against you, on top of you, you also wanted the heat that rested underneath your skin when Jaehyun touched any part of you.
You were a mess; a sobering mess, but a mess all the same.
So, you stumbled. Sixteen steps and you stumbled. Jungwoo caught you halfway through catching yourself, hands on your waist and a drunken smile on his face. He’d lost his wig and you hadn’t noticed, but Jungwoo was always pretty without it.
You told him as much, mumbling a soft, “So pretty, Jungwoo.”
Johnny had knelt down in front of you, “Come on, Juliet. Let’s get you home.”
Jaehyun stood to the side, watching you climb onto Johnny's back holding your dress down, balancing your wings. He didn’t say anything, for the time it took you to secure yourself on Johnny, on your knight. Jaehyun only waited and cursed himself, cursed the night and the Knight and God, if he could get away with it, before he cleared his throat and said, “The car is just down the street.”
Johnny carried you to the car, loading you into the back and draping Jaehyun’s discarded blazer from his work day over your lap. You could smell Johnny again, that same cologne, but it was surrounded in a cloud of Jaehyun; his jacket, his car, him in the front seat.
You wanted to be home, suddenly and increasingly dizzy. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.
And maybe it was for the best. Maybe if you were dizzy, you wouldn’t see Jaehyun looking once, twice, three times in the rear view mirror at you. You couldn’t focus on the way your heart pounded and your head and the way your stomach flipped if you fell into the spin. Dizzy was best.
Johnny didn’t stop you when you leaned away from the window, lowering yourself until you had your head on his lap. He smiled, a secret tucked away in the backseat of Jaehyun’s car, and brushed your hair back once more. When you melted into his touch, Johnny smiled more, “Sleep. I’ll let you know when you’re home.”
It felt more like a blink, but you knew you’d fallen asleep for much longer when Johnny eased you awake; a hand in your hair, a hand on your shoulder wrapped around the ribbon of your falling wings. He was close to your ear, hunched over in a way that had to be uncomfortable for him, telling you, “Wake up, we gotta get you inside.”
Jungwoo asked, “Do you need help?”
Johnny shook his head, easing you up, “I’ve got her.”
Jaehyun stayed quiet, hands secured on the steering wheel and his eyes forward; towards the loft, towards the place you’d slept next to him for the entire last week. Towards anything that made sense.
Johnny pulled you from the car, from the warmth of Jaehyun’s heated seats and his jacket and through your gate, “Easy.” he said, like any of it was, “Easy, I’m right here.”
He didn’t kiss you at the door. Johnny couldn’t kiss you again, no matter how much he wanted to. Christ, he wanted to. You wanted him to, just as much, mind clouded and forgetting why he wasn’t. Forgetting that Jaehyun and Jungwoo were in the car, forgetting the audience you had. The two of you just stood there for a while, drawing out the process of unlocking your door until he took the keys from your hands, you shivered and Johnny pushed the door open for you. And you were home.
As you had wanted. Still dizzy, less dizzy.
Johnny told you, “Goodnight.” He said your name so softly you thought it was merely a shiver running down your spine, passing you back your keys and holding your hand for just a second, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”
He started to walk away, down the path back to the car, down to the audience waiting to give mixed reviews about your performance on the stairs. And you were home, like you wanted, one step away from safety and a world that didn’t spin and disorient you. You were home and he was leaving you in a world that was neither halted nor spinning, but just wobbling helplessly. Unsure of itself. You wanted to feel sure.
Johnny turned and made it five steps before you stopped him, “Johnny wait.”
He looked back at you, hands at his sides and his chainmail halting a second after, “Yeah? You okay?”
“Stay.” You swallowed, “Why don’t you stay?”
“Do you want me to stay?”
“Do you want to stay?”
“I think you know I do.”
You were breathing, filling your lungs slowly with crisp air. That’s what he told you to do, so you breathed. Your hands were wrapped around your keys, as tight as could be, “Okay. Then stay.”
“Okay.” Johnny let a smile settle on his face again, another secret under a November moon, “Okay, yeah. I’ll stay.”
He went back to the car, to the audience. He looked at Jaehyun with such a particular smile, a certain one, an elated one. Johnny said, “You guys go ahead. I’m going to help her get settled.”
Jaehyun looked at Johnny and nodded like he was okay with that, because he had to be okay with that, and he settled on telling him, “Get her some water.”
Johnny came back to you, pulled you inside as carefully as he could and sat you down on your stairs. You closed your eyes letting his world, the things he created, the way Johnny felt and smelled and sounded, spin around you. His fingers worked at your shoes, sliding them from your feet and putting them away before doing the same for himself. He told you, softly, “Stay here.”
You croaked, “Okay.”
And another blink passed before Johnny was in front of you with a glass of water in his hand, “Sip.”
Throat dry, you repeated, “Okay.”
You took a sip and Johnny worked at untying the knots of your wings. You took a sip and he slipped them off your shoulders, his fingertips cool and your skin warm beneath them. You took a sip and Johnny eased you up, once again, helping you up the stairs. You took a sip and stumbled and Johnny whispered, “Almost there, okay?”
He sat you down on your bed where you sipped and sipped and watched as Johnny fumbled around your room, pulling open drawers, sifting through your closet. He was in front of you again, placing a lump of clothes next to you and asking, quietly, so unlike Johnny, “Do you want me to help? I won’t look.”
You nodded.
So he helped you, pulling the pins and ties from your hair and threading his fingers through it to shake any knots or lost barrettes loose. He pulled your shirt over your head first before slipping his fingers underneath the collar and untying your dress, “Stand up.”
You did, on wobbling legs. One of his hands held the back of your thigh, the other worked at pulling your dress down over your hips and slipping the fabric down your thighs, your calves, from around your ankles. You might have been holding your breath the whole time, eyes locked on every move he made, but you didn’t notice until it all came rushing out at once. Johnny tossed your dress behind him, eyes down, eyes averted, eyes respectful, and reached for the pants he’d placed beside you. The shirt he’d given you was long enough to cover most of you, comfortable enough to sleep in alone, so you shook your head and told him, just above a whisper, “No.”
He only nodded, standing upright and moving a step away from you. Johnny pulled off his armor, pulled himself out of Romeo after you’d been stripped of Juliet, and turned his back to you. You watched every muscle in his back flex before you caught yourself, mumbling, “Sorry, I won’t look.”
Johnny looked over his shoulder at you, hair in his eyes, a cheeky smile, and he said, “You can.”
You blinked. You breathed. You blanched at the sight of him.
“Johnny.” He turned and picked up the shirt next to you, one he pulled for himself. It slipped over his head easily, oversized on you and perfect on him. He started working on the button of his pants, the sound of the zipper and fabric falling to the floor made you swallow, “I don’t have pants to fit you.”
“It’s okay.” He gathered his clothes, neatly piling them in a corner, “I’ll sleep on the couch downstairs, okay? If you need me, just call. I’m a light sleeper when I’ve been drinking, I promise I’ll hear you.”
Again, you shook your head and said, “No.”
“No?”
“Stay.” It felt like your vocabulary had been ripped from your memory, only repeating the same handful of words you’d said since coming home; no, okay, stay. Johnny let out a breath and you suddenly felt too nervous to look at him, anymore, your courage being stolen away, as well, with every sobering breath, “Please.”
“You’re still drunk. I don’t think we should.” He told you, “I don’t think-“
You cut him off, “Just to sleep…I just…just to sleep. Nothing else.”
It was taking him a minute to reply, rethink, reflect. So, you took a minute to take him in; Johnny, not Romeo anymore, in his boxer briefs and a shirt from your drawer. A shirt Jaehyun had given you after you’d stolen it too many times. Johnny had his hands on his hips, eyes closed and his head back, in your room and in Jaehyun’s shirt. Your throat felt dry again and you took a sip to comfort it and remind yourself that he was Johnny, he wasn’t Jaehyun or Romeo or anyone else he could have been tonight.
He was Johnny who’d spent the whole night with you, Johnny who rotated the Earth for you, Johnny who was certain and careful and took care of you. Johnny who was still silent and thinking across from you. You filled that silence with the last sliver of courage, telling him, “We’ve never just slept together. Just the two of us. Jae…Jaehyun and I do it all the time. Even Mark sometimes.”
Johnny breathed, “I know.”
“I just…Johnny, I just want to be close to you right now.” It was the truth, the space between you had made everything too still, again. You stepped towards him, wobbling and unsure, “My couch is really uncomfortable.”
He laughed at that, looking at you, finally looking at you. Johnny, not Romeo. Johnny, not Jaehyun. He tried his best to bite back a smile at the sight of you, hair loosened and messy, fingers tapping together in anticipation, your bottom lip pulled between your teeth, “Okay.”
“Okay.”
It was simple. He moved to turn the light off, you adjusted to the moonlight filling the room and Johnny reached for your hand to pull you towards your bed. For a while, you both lay still and facing each other, breathing slowly until you took each breath together, in and out.
Johnny reached out, hand sliding from your neck to your shoulder blades to the middle of your back, slow as can be. He took his time leaning in, waiting for you to stop him, to react, to pull back. You only nodded and closed your eyes, anticipating the feeling of his lips on yours. Impossibly soft, slow and sweet, shorter than you wanted. He kissed you perfectly, and while you were catching your breath, with his forehead against yours, Johnny whispered, “I’m not him. This isn’t…I don’t want this to be how you are with Jaehyun.”
“I know.” Your chest was tight, Johnny’s hold on you was so loose it felt like he was giving you an out. But, when you opened your eyes and saw the shirt he wore, the way it fit him so differently, the way he filled the space in your bed comfortably and how, when you finally looked up, Johnny watched you, you calmed. You nodded your head and told him, “It isn’t. We’re not.”
“We were.” He reminded you, “I really want to change that.”
“I know.” You repeated, “We can.”
Johnny pulled you closer, secured in his arms. You could hear his steady heartbeat, so certain with you pressed against him. Johnny, not Jaehyun.
Johnny, not Jaehyun.
You had almost drifted off, the thought swirling in your mind and spinning you into slumber. Then, you heard him again, a hint of a laugh when he asked, “Wasn’t it Sicheng’s birthday, this week? Did you text him?”
And you laughed, shaking your head against his chest and mumbling, “Shut up.”
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