The streets of Paris pulmed with life, the heart of Fashion Week beating through every avenue. And Hani was excited to attend with Hoshi.
After the dazzling Gucci show, where they sat front row dressed in stunning couture, the night blurred into the exclusive after-party on a rooftop terrace, with the Eiffel Tower glittering in the background. Hani had felt lighter than she had in weeks, the champagne buzzing in her veins, her auburn hair cascading in loose waves down her back. She wore a sleek black-and-gold Gucci dress that shimmered under the lights, while Hoshi, in his sharp suit, had turned heads left and right.
“You looked like you were about to trip on that runway model’s dress,” Hani teased, leaning into Hoshi as they laughed together, their bond evident in their comfortable banter.
“I swear that thing was a mile long!” Hoshi chuckled, his eyes sparkling as he clinked his champagne glass against hers.
The two of them had always been close—best friends since they’d met in the industry, but tonight, their friendship was a source of comfort amidst the glamour. The laughter came easily, the shared inside jokes about the absurdity of the fashion world providing relief from the chaos that usually surrounded them.
Hours passed, champagne flowed, and soon they found themselves drunkenly dancing together under the Parisian stars. As the night wore on, they stumbled out of the party, arms linked, still laughing at the ridiculousness of the night.
By the time they reached Hoshi’s hotel, they were giggling uncontrollably, both far too tipsy to walk a straight line. “I think I left half my brain at that party,” Hani joked, leaning into him as they stepped into the hotel lobby.
“Same. Maybe it’s still by the bar,” Hoshi teased, holding her up as they wobbled toward the elevator. The staff gave them knowing smiles as they passed, recognizing the two idols from earlier in the night.
When they finally made it to Hoshi’s suite, Hoshi fumbled with the key card, his fingers slipping. “Ugh, why are these things so hard when you’re drunk?”
Hani leaned against the doorframe, giggling. “Maybe it’s because we’ve had about five glasses of champagne each.”
The door finally clicked open, and they stumbled into the room, immediately kicking off their shoes. Hani groaned in relief, sinking onto the plush couch. “Why do I wear heels? This is torture.”
Hoshi dropped down beside her, letting out a sigh as he stretched out his legs. “I don’t know how you do it. I can barely handle my sneakers.”
For a moment, they just sat there, catching their breath and letting the buzz of alcohol settle. The lights of Paris filtered in through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room. It felt comfortable, natural. Hani and Hoshi had always had this ease between them, where even silence felt like home.
“You know,” Hani began, her voice slightly slurred from the champagne, “we make a pretty good team.”
“Best team,” Hoshi agreed, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “We should make this a regular thing—Paris, fashion shows, getting drunk together.”
“Only if you promise to never let me wear heels this high again,” Hani said, laughing as she lifted one of her discarded shoes and tossed it onto the floor.
“I promise,” Hoshi chuckled, leaning his head back against the couch.
For a while, they stayed like that, side by side, their laughter softening into quiet smiles as they soaked in the warmth of their friendship. The weight of the night settled in, the combination of champagne and exhaustion making them feel giddy and a little reckless.
“I’m not ready to crash just yet,” Hoshi said suddenly, turning to look at her. His eyes were bright, still sparkling with that playful energy.
Hani raised an eyebrow, smirking. “What do you have in mind?”
“Maybe a drink from the minibar?” Hoshi suggested with a mischievous grin.
Hani rolled her eyes but got up, feeling the soft plush carpet beneath her feet as she walked over to the minibar. “This is going to be dangerous.”
Grabbing two mini bottles of whiskey, she made her way back to the couch. They clinked their bottles together before taking long sips, grimacing at the burn. “That’s terrible,” Hani coughed, laughing as she set the bottle down. “Why do we keep drinking?”
“Because it’s fun,” Hoshi replied, laughing as he wiped his mouth.
As they continued to drink, the room filled with their laughter again, both of them slowly sinking deeper into the couch. Their limbs were tangled as they leaned into each other, their faces close. Hani could feel her cheeks warming, not just from the alcohol but from the proximity.
“This night has been perfect,” Hoshi said softly, his words slightly slurred, yet genuine.
Hani smirked, looking at him with hazy eyes.
Hoshi tilted his head, grinning, and without a second thought, he leaned closer, his hand brushing against her arm as their laughter softened. Hani could feel the heat rising in her face, the alcohol making her bolder than usual. They were best friends, they’d never crossed this line before, but something about tonight felt different. Free.
Her heart raced as Hoshi’s lips grazed hers, both of them smiling as their giggles faded. It started as a soft kiss, tentative and playful, but quickly deepened as their hands moved to explore each other. Hani could feel the warmth of his touch as his hand cupped her cheek, pulling her closer.
They broke apart briefly, laughing against each other’s lips. “I think we’re still drunk,” Hani whispered breathlessly, her forehead resting against his.
“Still drunk,” Hoshi agreed, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, his hand slid down to her waist, and before she knew it, he was pulling her into his lap, their lips finding each other again in a more heated kiss.
Hani giggled, running her fingers through his hair, the room spinning around them. The sensation of his body pressed against hers sent a rush of adrenaline through her. It was messy, unplanned, but neither of them seemed to care.
Hoshi’s lips trailed down her neck, soft kisses making her skin tingle as she let out a quiet laugh. “This is a terrible idea,” she whispered, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw.
“The worst,” Hoshi agreed between kisses, his voice low and teasing.
The kiss deepened, heat blooming between them as Hani shifted closer, fingers twisting in the fabric of Hoshi’s shirt. His hands skimmed her waist, gentle but firm, like he was savouring. She could still taste the alcohol on his lips, mixed with something unmistakably him, familiar and comforting in a way that made her stomach flip.
Then, suddenly, he pulled back. His breath was heavy, his forehead nearly resting against hers as he searched her face, his eyes dark and laced with something unspoken.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice lower than usual, more serious beneath the haze of alcohol.
Hani blinked at him, her heart hammering in her chest. She knew what he meant, what this was. They weren’t drunk enough to forget, not so gone that this wouldn’t mean something, even if it wasn’t something serious.
She exhaled slowly, her fingers brushing the line of his jaw and feeling bold. “Yeah,” she murmured. “I trust you.”
That was all he needed. A slow smile spread across his lips, soft and knowing. They both knew this was just for fun, just a moment between two people who had spent years orbiting each other, always close but never like this. And tonight, in Paris, away from everyone else, it felt like the perfect time to cross that line.
Hoshi didn’t hesitate. He hooked an arm under her legs and lifted her effortlessly, making her squeal. “Yah!” she laughed, smacking his shoulder. “Warn a girl next time!”
He grinned, carrying her toward the bed with ease. “Where’s the fun in that?”
He tossed her onto the plush mattress, and she bounced slightly, laughing as he crawled over her. The weight of him, the press of his body against hers, it should have felt strange, but it didn’t. It was just them, tangled in laughter and alcohol and the thrill of the moment.
She reached for his shirt, fumbling with the buttons as he chuckled against her neck. “You’re so bad at this,” he teased, taking over, undoing them with practiced ease.
“Shut up,” she muttered, shoving the fabric off his shoulders before running her hands down his chest, her nails scratching lightly over his skin. He inhaled sharply, his smirk faltering for just a second.
Hani grinned, victorious. “Sensitive?”
“Shut up,” he shot back, flipping them over so she was straddling him now.
Her dress was the next to go, the silky material slipping from her shoulders as he pressed open-mouthed kisses along her collarbone, his fingers tracing slow, teasing patterns along her back. She sighed into it, her hands in his hair, tugging slightly just to hear the low groan he made in response.
Hoshi’s fingers traced the straps of her bra, his touch featherlight as he dragged them down her arms. He was taking his time, teasing her like he had all night, like he enjoyed seeing how much patience she didn’t have.
Hani huffed, pushing at his shoulder. “You’re slow on purpose.”
With one quick motion, he unclasped her bra, letting it slip away between them. His gaze flickered over her, dark and unreadable, before he leaned in again, pressing warm, open-mouthed kisses down her collarbone, over the curve of her breast, taking his time even as her hands roamed over his back, nails pressing in just enough to make him exhale sharply.
His fingers skimmed lower, teasing the waistband of her panties, brushing over the fabric. Hani let out a frustrated sound, her hips shifting instinctively toward his touch, and he laughed—a low, knowing sound that sent a shiver down her spine.
“You’re so impatient,” he murmured, fingers finally slipping beneath the fabric, teasing over sensitive skin in a way that had her breath catching.
“And you talk too much,” she shot back, but her voice wavered, betraying her. She mumbles a frustrated “Soonyoung” and takes matters into her own hands or at least tries.
Hani tugged at the waistband of his boxers, fingers fumbling in her drunken state. She let out a frustrated huff when they didn’t budge the way she wanted.
Hoshi smirked, his hands covering hers as he helped her. “It’s cute how frustrated you’re getting,” he teased.
She shot him a glare, her lips curving despite herself. “Please just help me.”
He chuckled and obliged. Before she could get another quip in, he flipped them again, pinning her beneath him. His breath was warm against her skin, lips ghosting over her collarbone, teasing but never quite giving her what she wanted.
Her breath hitched when his fingers dipped just below the fabric, moving in delicate, deliberate strokes, barely grazing where she needed him most.
A frustrated sound escaped her lips, and she instinctively grabbed his wrist, her fingers tightening around him. “Fuck,” she breathed, her voice breaking.
That made him smile. Smirk, really. That same smug, knowing expression he always had when he won a game, when he got the last word in an argument—when he knew he had the upper hand.
“Want me to stop?” he murmured, his lips ghosting over her jaw, his breath warm against her skin.
She swallowed hard, shaking her head. “No.”
His smile widened. “Good.”
He finally hooked his fingers into the fabric, moving slowly—agonizingly slowly—as he slid them down her legs. Hani lifted her hips to help, then kicked them off the rest of the way, her skin flushing as the last barrier between them disappeared.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Hoshi hovered over her, his gaze dragging over her body, his expression unreadable. Then, he met her eyes again, something softer flickering beneath the mischief.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice quieter now, more sincere.
Hani felt heat rush to her face—not from his touch, but from his words. She turned her head, pressing her palm against his chest as if to push him away, though she didn’t actually apply any force. “Don’t,” she muttered, embarrassed.
Hoshi just chuckled, dipping his head to press a kiss to her lips. “I’m serious,” he murmured against her skin. “My beautiful best friend.” His fingers trailed lazily down her side, a touch so light it sent a shiver through her. “You’re so talented, too. You don’t hear that enough.”
Hani let out a breath, shaking her head slightly. “You’re drunk and you’d hurt Seungkwan’s feelings if he knew you called me your best friend,” she teased, trying to deflect, but her voice was softer now, touched by something she couldn’t quite name.
He hummed, nosing at her cheek before tilting her chin back toward him. “Maybe.” His lips ghosted over hers, barely there, just enough to tease. “But it doesn’t make it any less true. And for God’s sake don’t bring up Seungkwan right now.”
Hani felt the heat creeping up her neck, pooling in her chest, her stomach twisting at the tenderness in his voice when he complimented her. He wasn’t just teasing her anymore. He meant it.
She didn’t know what to do with that. With him looking at her like that. With the way his fingers traced over her skin like she was something delicate, something precious.
So, flustered and unable to find a clever response, she blurted the only thing she could think of.
“Fuck, Soonyoung, can you just fuck me already?”
For a second, there was silence. Then—
A slow, lazy grin stretched across his face, something smug and entirely too pleased with himself. “Wow,” he murmured, dragging his lips over her jaw, “I never thought the Hani of BTS would be begging me like this.”
Hoshi didn’t make her wait any longer. He reached between her thighs, fingers teasing, making sure she was ready—because, as he put it with a grin, he was a gentleman.
Hani let out a breathy laugh, shaking her head as she looked up at him. “A gentleman?” she repeated, arching a brow. “That’s what we’re calling it?”
He smirked, tilting his head slightly. “Of course. What else would you call it?”
She bit her lip, unable to stop the amused shake of her head. “Unbelievable.”
But the teasing faded into something quieter, something heavier, as she reached for him, her fingers sliding over his skin, guiding him closer.
For a second, they just looked at each other—still smiling, still caught in the absurdity of the moment, but underneath it, there was something else. Not serious, not overwhelming, just undeniable.
Hoshi’s gaze flickered over her face, as if making sure, one last time. But Hani didn’t hesitate.
“C’mon, Soonie,” she whispered, her voice softer now, more certain.
That was all he needed. Hoshi’s expression shifted—there was no more teasing, no more playful grin. The moment shifted, becoming heavier, more intense. He moved slowly at first, making sure she was completely with him, his hands anchoring themselves to her body like he wanted to keep her close, as if he was afraid she might slip away.
Hani’s breath caught as he entered her, the heat of it making everything else fade. It was messy and raw in the best way, the world outside the room ceasing to exist except for the rhythm they created together. The laughter, the teasing—everything was forgotten. It was just them, tangled up in the moment, each touch, each movement pulling them deeper into something they didn’t need to understand.
The room seemed to close in around them, leaving only the sounds of their breaths, the frantic beats of their hearts, and the connection between them. It was wild in its own way, neither of them holding back, the tension building with every movement.
She clung to him, feeling the weight of his body over hers, the intensity of his touch. Neither of them spoke, not needing to. Every kiss, every shift of their bodies told them everything they needed to know.
It was easy. It was just right.
They got lost in the feeling—the sensation of it, of each other. They were a mess of limbs and laughter, kissing and teasing in between stolen breaths. It wasn’t rushed, wasn’t desperate, it was fun. Comfortable in a way that only came from knowing someone inside and out.
The sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting soft streaks of light across the room. Hani woke up groggy, her head heavy with sleep, the lingering warmth of last night still in her body. The familiar scent of Hoshi’s cologne—a mix of cedarwood and musk—was still there, enveloping her in the cocoon of his presence.
Her gaze moved slowly, landing on the sight of Hoshi, his arm slung lazily over her waist. He was still sound asleep, his chest rising and falling with deep, even breaths. For a moment, she just stared at him, still adjusting to the reality of where she was—and what they had done.
As the fog of sleep cleared, the memory of the night before flooded her mind, vivid and sudden. The laughter, the heat, the way they’d fallen into each other so easily. Her stomach twisted with a mix of confusion and amusement.
She sighed softly, shifting under his arm, careful not to wake him. But the soft, teasing smile that tugged at her lips wouldn’t fade. What a night, she thought, shaking her head at the absurdity of it all.
She glanced at the clock—a couple hours until their flight
Gently, she nudged him, her fingers tapping lightly against his shoulder. “Soonyoung,” she murmured, poking him again when he didn’t stir.
He groaned softly, burrowing deeper into the pillow, a soft laugh escaping him. “Mmm… just five more minutes.”
Hani laughed quietly, but it was more of a nervous laugh than she intended. She wasn’t sure what to do with herself right now. They had crossed a line, something that had been so easy last night, but now there was a layer of awkwardness settling in.
“We have a flight in a couple hours,” she reminded him gently, her voice soft but firm.
Hoshi blinked his eyes open, blinking up at her in surprise for a moment before letting out a long breath. “Right.”
His gaze flickered around the room for a second, then back to her. A small, amused grin crept up on his face, but there was something unreadable behind his eyes—something she couldn’t quite place.
They both knew they would laugh about it later. The absurdity of it all. The teasing, the way they had both acted without thinking, with no expectation of anything afterward.
But for Hoshi, there was a quiet knot in his stomach, something that hadn’t been there before.
As he looked at Hani, his thoughts drifted to Wonwoo. He was pretty sure his fellow member had always had a crush on Hani. It actually was quite obvious. He’d noticed the little things—how Wonwoo’s eyes lingered when he thought no one was watching, how he got a little quieter whenever she was around. Hoshi had seen it enough times to recognize it for what it was.
And now, Hoshi was the one who’d shared something with her. Something intimate. Something unexpected.
A weight settled in his chest, one he wasn’t sure how to deal with. He felt guilty even if Wonwoo has yet to say anything about his feelings.
“Hey,” Hani said, shifting again, her voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “You good?”
He smiled, trying to shake the nagging feeling in his chest. “Yeah, just thinking about the flight.”
She laughed softly, shaking her head. “You’re a terrible liar, you know that?”
He gave her a sheepish smile, though there was a hint of guilt behind it, the knot in his stomach only tightening. “Yeah.”
But he didn’t say anything else. It wasn’t the right time and he knew Wonwoo wasn’t ready.
Hoshi sighed as he pushed himself up from the bed, his muscles groaning slightly as he stretched. He glanced over at Hani, who was now sitting up in the bed, her hair disheveled, and a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.
“I’ll make you coffee,” he said, his voice still husky from sleep, the usual cheerfulness starting to seep back in. He walked over to the small counter area of the hotel room, intent on avoiding the awkwardness that hung in the air between them.
Hani stretched her arms over her head, letting out a small yawn, before calling out, “You know, I didn’t think we’d be waking up to coffee after… well…”
She paused for a beat, her tone light and teasing, and then she added with a wink, “After that wild night we had.”
The air in the room shifted, and Hoshi let out a startled laugh, his shoulders relaxing at her ability to lighten the mood. He turned around to look at her, his own grin returning as he leaned against the counter.
“Hey, I’m just trying to be a gentleman,” he joked, though the playful lilt in his voice didn’t completely mask the small knot of guilt he felt. “Coffee is the least I can do.”
She raised an eyebrow, clearly amused by his attempt at staying formal. “A gentleman, huh?” she laughed, shaking her head. “Right. Well, next time you’re the one making that offer, make sure there’s a breakfast included.”
Hoshi chuckled, shaking his head as he started the coffee maker. “Deal.”
The teasing tone between them made it clear that, despite the intimacy of last night, things between them hadn’t changed. There was no tension, no awkwardness that lingered in the air like he had feared. They were still the same—Hoshi and Hani, their friendship and the playful banter still intact.
Even with everything that had happened, there was no need for awkward explanations or stilted conversations. It was just another chapter in the story of their dynamic.
“You’re not weirded out by last night, are you?” Hoshi asked, his voice casually drifting over to her as he fiddled with the coffee machine.
Hani looked up from where she was now pulling on her shoes, her expression thoughtful but not uncomfortable. She shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. “No. I mean, it was fun, wasn’t it? And I trust you. I know you won’t make it uncomfortable.”
He met her eyes and smiled, feeling the tension in his chest slowly unraveling. “Yeah, exactly. Nothing’s changed.”
As Hoshi prepared the coffee, he realized that while last night was a blur of heat and laughter, it was still just another part of the bond they shared.
