𝜗𝜚 welcome to the dream fraternity! seven dreamy boys, seven absolutely cheesy love stories where you’re the main character! warning: you might hate yourself during the process…but what’s love without a little chaos?
contains 18+ content
I. STUPID CUPID
pairing: fuckboy! na jaemin x secret identity! reader
synopsis -> mr. cupid — anonymous radio host. running the #1 most popular radio show on campus. famous for his thoughtful advice and classified as a true hopeless romantic. na jaemin — photography major, the sweet fuck-boy. described to be affectionate and gentle…but don’t fall for his tactics! once he’s done with you, he’s gone with the wind. your best friend unfortunately happened to be on the receiving end of this. what happens when you find out that the anonymous radio host is none other than na jaemin himself? sweet revenge.
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II. FLYING KISS
pairing: childhood best friend! lee jeno x nerd! reader
synopsis -> you and lee jeno go way back, as in diapers and all that. before he was known as the chill fuckboy, he was an all time nerd! just like you! tired of being a loser who can’t even get the guy you wanted, you badly needed tips and a makeover. who’s better to ask for help than your childhood best friend, who has proven that a nerd can be sexy?
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III. SORRY, HEART
pairing: friends with benefits! mark lee x tutor! reader
synopsis -> sex helps him focus. focus he needs for your tutoring sessions. it was a win-win for mark lee when you proposed to add a stress-relief session to the schedule. the favorite fuckboy and the girl who doesn’t believe in love equals the ultimate friends with benefits set-up. it’s the perfect dream team! but uh oh…it seems like mark has been shot by cupid’s arrow. will mark survive all of your attempts at pushing him away?
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IV. IRREPLACEABLE
pairing: enemy! lee haechan x ex bff! reader
synopsis -> lee haechan, theatre major, absolutely hated your guts. you felt the same exact way. the only girl in this whole university that hasn’t fallen for the most popular fuckboy’s charms. which is why it sucks that you have both landed the main roles in the theater’s upcoming play, romeo and juliet. what was that saying about love and hate being a thin line?
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V. MY FIRST AND LAST
pairing: bff! zhong chenle x fake gf! reader
synopsis -> zhong chenle, the lowkey fuckboy, captain of the basketball team, doesn’t believe in romance. flowers? chocolates? handwritten letters? ew. too cheesy. but he can’t seem to shake this crazy girl off of him so he goes to you, his best friend, cheerleading captain, for help. will you be his fake girlfriend? sure. the catch? it has to be believable so for the first time in his life he buys the flowers and the chocolate and writes the handwritten letters.
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VI. BREATHING
pairing: fuckboy! jisung x convenient gf! reader
synopsis -> park jisung has sworn off love after being cheated on. he’s been doing a really great job breaking hearts and not looking back. the boys are worried that they’ve taken fuckboy101 too seriously and have now created the ultimate fuckboy. this conversation was heard by your group of friends who never backs away from a challenge. and so the bets are on: get the ultimate fuckboy to fall in love with you and you’ll get $125 from each friend. deal?
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VII. I HATE FRUITS
pairing: fake bf! renjun x best friend’s gf! reader
synopsis -> huang renjun, the fuckboy by association, couldn’t care less about romantic relationships. he’s perfectly fine with being single — prefers it, actually. when he accidentally drops a box on your head and you wake up with temporary amnesia, he’s forced to finally take care of a person other than his own self. what’s worse? you think he’s your boyfriend.
authors note: this is a work of fiction only and should not be taken seriously. the way the dream boys are portrayed in these stories are obviously not a representation of who they are in real life. thank you and have fun reading!
⏦ﾟ♡︎ likes, reblogs and comments are not required but is very appreciated ⏦ﾟ♡︎
if you enjoyed this series and would like to show extra love and support, my ko-fi is open <3
synopsis: for the first half of your life, you’ve always loved lee donghyuck. you finally learnt to stop loving him but the universe plays a cruel joke by making him your marriage partner.
word count: 22.9k
tags: drama, childhood friends to lovers, arranged marriage, unrequited love, unresolved feelings, mentions of mild panic attack, fluff, angst with happy ending
playlist recommendation: urs by niki, blue moon by niki, drop dead by olivia rodrigo, bleach by 5sos, start over by 5sos
authors note: tbh I’m surprised I even finished writing this but since it’s done and his birthday aligned with the completion of my fic, I thought I should just post this here. happy birthday haechan and to everyone else, enjoy!
The first meeting between you two happened when you were mere children. You were taller than him, by a handful of inches of course but it still mattered to him. Donghyuck didn’t like it. The adults teased him relentlessly while you were oblivious to it.
“What a cute pair!” His grandfather would say. You had your usual gummy smile when you heard that, simply accepting the truth. You liked Donghyuck. You think he was smart, confident and cute. You were his best friend and he was yours. If all the adults had the same opinion about you two being a perfect match, the only consensus to your younger self is that it must be true.
Donghyuck, ever the boy, would openly frown at any sweet comments about the two of you but when it was just the two of you, things were different. He would fix your pigtails when it came loose. When you came over to his house for a play date, he would surprise you with a dress up doll. His actions were confusing but that didn’t deter you. It felt like a secret between the two of you. The way he quietly showed you care and concern made your tiny heart swell. It was enough if it meant keeping Donghyuck by your side.
When you reached your tween years, the meetings naturally grew lesser. From seeing him once every season to seeing him annually, your relationship had shrivelled but your hope hadn’t. The yearning had always lingered at the back of your chest. It was an ache you ended up growing up with.
Polite smiles and cold gazes are exchanged and beneath it all was your longing. Every change does not go unnoticed by you. Donghyuck has grown taller, brazen. He has his own group of friends that hangs around him during year end parties while the rest of the crowd can only stand in the sidelines, admiring their presence. His laughter is more interesting than the crowd.
It stays the same for a few years up until you turn seventeen. You had wished for a quiet celebration with your loved ones but your mother had insisted on a bigger celebration. She had rented out a popular restaurant in the heart of the city. It had an open rooftop concept and the party was swarming with guests, majority had been decided by your parents. Your own friends and relatives were there, thankfully.
You stuck with your new best friend for moral support. It was much needed when Donghyuck walked towards your table. He carried his usual self with suave, a complete difference from the panic rising in your chest. You leaned in closer to your cousin when your best friend Yizhou says, “I’m not drunk am I? That is Lee Donghyuck.”
There is barely any time to recover from your shock. Donghyuck saunters to the table. Your mother is overjoyed, her face splitting into a wide smile as she gets up to greet him. Your father joins her and you force yourself to rise, slowly approaching them. You barely notice the friends he had brought with him, your eyes are glued onto him.
Donghyuck finally turn towards you and you hope the hitching of your breath isn’t audible. “Happy birthday,” he says as he extends a wrapped present to you.
“Thank you.” You mumble, stiffly accepting the gift. Your mother forces a laugh as if to compensate for your lack of emotions.
“Go. Enjoy the party boys!” Your mother tells him and his friends.
“It’s so nice of him to show up.” You hear your father say.
When Donghyuck disappeared into the crowd, you confronted your mother. “Why did you invite him?”
She takes a sip of her wine, fixing you with a smirk. “It’s your birthday dear. Everyone is invited.” While you love your mother, her ambition has always been bigger than your own interests. The worst part is that you can’t find it in you to be whole heartedly mad, the little girl in you is pleased by Donghyuck’s presence. It makes you feel pathetic. You thought that once you had grown older, you would have grown out of your affection for him. Clearly you were wrong.
It’s your birthday party but your attention has drifted towards Donghyuck. It should tick you off that he is the centre of attention at your party but you’re relieved to have this small chance to collect yourself.
“Hey, I need a toilet break.” You inform Yizhou as you pass your gift to her. Your cousin overheard you and tried to call after you, but you waved her off, rushing to the bathroom.
It’s times like these you wished you picked up smoking. You settle for gently patting your face down with water. Your hands are pressed against the sink, staring down at your own reflection. In a matter of hours, your birthday glow has faded and you’re back to the lovesick girl you used to be.
The thought brings tears to your eyes. “Fuck, no.” You refuse to cry over him, not when he’s a few feet away from you. You can’t even hate him. It is not his fault that you harbour such helpless feelings for him.
Looking at your reflection again, you try to smile. It comes out small and uncertain and you can’t help but laugh at the silliness of it all. You feel more like your usual self, taking it as a sign to join the party again.
You push the door ajar and the person behind it yells, “Oh, fuck!”
“Oh my god!” You try to shut the door again, eyes clenching shut but you’re met with resistance. You slowly peel your eyes open and meet the victim of your actions. The only intelligent reply you could come up with is prolonged silence.
Donghyuck clears his throat and gently tugs the door handle towards him, urging you to step out of the bathroom and into the corridor. “Right, I am sorry about that. Thank you for holding the door and um,” you pause, doing a once over at his appearance. “Are you hurt?”
His soft laughter surprises you. “I’m okay.” The grimace from your face doesn’t fade so he adds, “Didn’t you used to say that I was strong? I can handle a door.” Donghyuck winks as if to prove a point.
Your eyes dart towards the direction of your party, ignoring the flutter in your chest. You side step Donghyuck, getting out of the tiny corridor. The reason for your brief escape just had to appear right before you.
“Were you going to the men’s? You should go. I am leaving too.” You ramble, already walking away.
“No.”
Your steps halt and you slowly turn around. “Huh?”
There’s a decisive look in Donghyuck’s eyes and the way your stomach churns tells you that whatever is going through his mind, you will inevitably cave into his whims.
“I saw you leaving your party so I followed you.” He takes a step toward you. “I– Do you wanna dance with me?”
Your breath hitched. “What?”
There’s a redness that fans his cheeks but Donghyuck remains confident, even going as far as offering you his hand. The music is fainter in this part of the rooftop but even then, the scenery felt perfect. The potted trees were decorated with fairy lights to illuminate the area, along with the warm lights installed along the trees.
As far as your imagination goes, having Donghyuck willingly giving you his sole attention is much better than anything you have ever imagined.
“Are you sure? Don’t you miss the dance floor? I know it calls your name.” You tease.
At your remark, Donghyuck affectionately rolls his eyes. “The dance floor could use a little breather from my presence.”
You break into a shy grin when you slip your hand into his. “Okay. Then let’s take a breather together.”
It’s like the whole night was leading up to this moment. The song transitions to a slower beat, giving you the opportunity to sidle up Donghyuck and try to relax.
His mouth brushes the side of your head. “Follow my lead,” he softly instructs. It is as good as a warning you got from him. Donghyuck pulls you close so that you’re chest to chest. His free hand rests slightly above your hips, merely holding you but the reaction for you instant. It feels like his warmth is burning through the expensive material of your dress. Your eyes nervously dart around his figure.
Donghyuck’s voice softens. “Look at me.” Your eyes slowly shift towards his face. It starts at his forehead where stray strands of hair effortlessly frame his head, then it lands on his arched brows. They’re perfectly shaped because of course, the heir of the Lee’s has a beautician to tidy up his god sent feature. You purposely avoid his eyes, moving onto the slope of his nose and his inviting lips.
Bad move. You make a misstep and Donghyuck holds you firmer than before, his hand pressing into your hips to support you. You clutch onto his back a little tighter, probably leaving wrinkles in his pristine suit. This time you do meet his eyes, albeit apologetically. “I‘ve never done this before,” you tell him.
Donghyuck smiles and he slowly dips you, letting you lean back onto his sturdy arm as he brings his face to yours. “You have done this before though.”
You almost missed his reply. Your mouth part in confusion, a question already leaving your lips. “When?”
He brings you back to your proper position but this time, you feel caged in. Your brows are furrowed and Donghyuck’s humour dims. “You really don’t remember at all?”
When you shake your head, Donghyuck sighs wistfully. “It was my uncle’s wedding. You were seven and I was eight. We danced on the dance floor that day.”
You squint at him as you try to jog your memories. Slowly, bits and pieces of your earlier memories from your shared childhood comes back to you. It was an outdoor wedding on a sunny day. You were appointed as the flower girl and Donghyuck was the ring bearer.
“Wait,” you said as the memories came flashing in. “You were the ring bearer and you tripped on the carpet at the end of the aisle. Oh I remember now!”
You were grinning widely but Donghyuck wasn’t all too pleased. “Seriously? You couldn’t remember our dance but you remembered my embarrassing moment?”
You shrugged sheepishly. “Help me remember more of that day.”
Donghyuck laughs. “We weren’t really dancing, just swaying like this,” he says before changing the pace to an uncoordinated rhythm, causing you to squeal.
“Are you sure?” You exclaimed as you latch your chin over his shoulders.
Donghyuck suddenly stops. “Still don’t remember?” You lift your head to look at him and he’s already staring you, an unspeakable thing glimmering in his eyes. You shake your head.
“I spun you around.” You take it as a queue to pull back from his chest until you’re eye to eye. The first spin comes, with his arm raised above your heads. You try your best to follow his lead and you end up resting your hand on his chest, a bubble of laughter erupting from within you.
“That was clumsy of me.” Donghyuck agrees with a smile. “Try again,” he softly says. This time you are prepared and when you spin, you barely even trip. You beamed brightly as you look up at Donghyuck for approval and he nodded encouragingly.
Your smile drops a little when you tell him, “Unfortunately, I still don’t remember the wedding.”
“Hmm?” There’s a lilt in his voice that you didn’t expect. “Maybe this will help you remember.”
A soft peck lands on your cheek, taking you by surprise. You look at Donghyuck and he’s blushing when he pulls away. The tension between the two of you is palpable, your faces inches away from one another. It would be so easy to lean upwards and close the distance between you but you remained rooted in your spot.
“I think I’ll remember this better than our first dance from a decade ago.” Your voice comes out as soft as a whisper, barely heard above the noise.
Donghyuck releases you from his hold and he takes a step back, withdrawing himself from your shared space. You try to school your features to hide your hurt.
“I guess I’ll see you at the end of the year. Happy birthday Y/N.” There’s a guarded look in his eyes and you want nothing more than to scream at him but you don’t. You can’t. A lot of unsaid words were stuck in your throat and endless thoughts running through your mind as you watched Donghyuck turn his back on you, walking away from you with your fragile heart in his hands.
You didn’t tell any one of that sacred incident, opting to keep it to yourself. When you returned to your party, Donghyuck was long gone even though his friends stuck around. You ignore the skeptic glance they sent your way and plaster a smile for the rest of the night.
That same night, your dreams took you back to a forgotten memory, one where you’re dancing with your childhood best friend. His grip in your hand is warm and clammy but you didn’t mind, flashing him a smile. You’re still taller than him but even you can admit that Donghyuck is catching up to you in terms of height difference. The rest of the wedding-goers fade away and Donghyuck is leaning in. There’s alarm bells going off in your mind but you let it happen, his soft lips leaving a chaste peck on the apples of your cheeks. Donghyuck is saying something but it sounds garbled. You try to focus on his shy smile as the dream sequence slowly slips away from your consciousness.
When you wake up, you dart straight for the pile of gifts in the corner of your bedroom. You dig through the stacks of presents and take the wrapped gift that Donghyuck had given you. You’re sitting on your calfs, carefully tearing at the wrapping paper to unveil a sleek red box with gold embossing on it.
You cover your mouth with your hands, staring at the gift in disbelief. Inside the box, a gorgeous Baignoire in gold sits in there, waiting to be worn. You want to reach for your phone to send Donghyuck a text but you realised that you don’t even know if you had his number to begin with.
Amidst your shock, you finally notice the card that came with the present. You take the card to read what was written on it.
I can’t believe you’re 17 now. Time surely flies by when you’re busy growing up. I know you’ll wear this well.
lee donghyuck x
You don’t realise you’re crying until a stray tear lands on the back of your hand. You quickly wipe away the tears and gather his gifts in your arms before going to your storage trunk. In it is your most valuable possessions. It has started when you were young and you had developed an obsession with pirates. Donghyuck would always use it as his hiding spot for hide and seek.
You’re hit with a wave of nostalgia when you open up your trunk. There’s plenty of room for more possessions that you hope to collect in years to come. You carefully set the card down and put the jewellery box on top of it, just to hide it from any potential prying eyes. With a heavy heart, you will yourself to close the trunk.
“It’s his twenty first, you should be there!”
“I dunno,” you say as you turn the party invite around in your hands. Your thumb caresses the family crest embossed into the card. It has been ages since you had received an invite to Donghyuck’s birthday. To say you were curious would be a lie. “Besides, why would he have a party at his parent’s house? Shouldn’t it be at a club?”
Yizhou shrugs. “I don’t know? The Lee’s run a tight ship I guess with him being their heir and all that stuff. It would be safest to host a party at their estate.”
You’re not fully satisfied but her logic makes sense. “Your family got an invite too?”
“It was addressed to me, just like how your invite has your name on it.” Seeing as how you’re not convinced, Yizhou tries a different approach. “A masquerade sounds fun doesn’t it?”
“Yeah but it’s Donghyuck’s. Something isn’t quite right.”
“Then come to the party with me. Find out whatever it is that you’re suspecting him of.”
Without meaning to, you glance over at storage trunk situated at the end of your bed. It has been almost three years since you had received the priceless gift from him. It remains untouched by you.
“Okay,” you said softly.
“Okay?”
You nodded, holding the urge to take your words back. Yizhou squeals. “Yes! Thank you!”
You pull your best friend in for a hug, smothering Yizhou as she struggles against your strength. Your bright laughters carry through the night and your unease sits at the back of your mind.
And so, you’re left with a moments notice to scramble for an outfit. You have been to plenty of parties but a masquerade is a whole new ballgame. There’s a slight thrill behind the anonymity of the event and it serves as a comfort for you to lean into. Your mother is beyond thrilled to hear that you had accepted the invite. She had given you free rein on your choice of outfit and in a small act of rebellion, you decided to find yourself a vintage dress worthy of your mother’s credit card.
All that’s left was the mask. You browsed countless websites for a mask suitable to your likings and one finally caught your eyes. That purchase had also gone onto your mother’s credit card.
Even though it was not expected of you, you still wished to bring Donghyuck a present. Yizhou and your close cousins were of no use so you turned towards your father for help.
“Could you help me find out from Mr Lee what Donghyuck would want for his birthday?”
Your father tilted his head sideways. “Are you sure you came looking for the right parent?”
You walked further into the study room and dramatically dropped onto the vacant seat. “I don’t want to ask Ma for help. She will end up taking control of the gift and probably terrorise Mrs Lee.”
Your father snorts in agreement. He takes in your dejected mood and his face softened. “I don’t think me or Mr Lee would be of much help. Whatever the gift is, I know Donghyuck would appreciate it because it came from your heart.”
His words were true. You had been trying to avoid personalising your present but a meaningless present would be pointless for the both of you. “He grew up well,” your father suddenly says.
“What do you know of him? We only see him once a year.” You can’t help but challenge your father, curious as to what he thinks of your childhood best friend.
He clicked his tongue in disagreement. “No, you and Ma only see him at the end of the year. I have seen him socialising at the country club.”
Donghyuck is charming and has ambition which makes him a threat in your societal pool. While you typically choose to distance yourself from society, Donghyuck was rising through it, making all the right connections one handshake at a time. As far as you know, he was still in college. To think that he was juggling his ambitions on top of school was impressive to you.
“What does he do there?”
“He mostly plays tennis.” You hummed thoughtfully. It’s enough of a lead for a perfect gift. You thank your father and take your leave, occupied with a mental list of potential gifts for Donghyuck.
The day finally arrived. You went through your day slowly, not wanting to rush into it for fear of your nerves getting to you. By the time you were finished scrubbing yourself clean, you were left with sufficient time to get ready and head to the Lee’s estate.
Your family driver drove you to the party and you spent the majority of the ride stuck in your head, fiddling with the rings you had slipped on. You look downwards and gaze at your wrist, where a simple chained bracelet sits. The thought of wearing the watch Donghyuck gifted you had crossed your mind but you weren’t sure if you wanted him to notice you tonight.
“Y/N?” You’re startled out of your daze by your family driver. He turns in his seat, sporting a deep frown on his face. “Y/N, are you unwell?”
“No.”
“Are you sure because I can take you back home and–”
You cut in, “I am fine. I promise. I just had my mind elsewhere.”
The frown on his face loosens and he nods, respecting your wishes. “I’ll bring the car around at midnight but if you wish to stay here longer, or wish to leave earlier, do call me.”
You smile, grateful for the loyalty of your family’s employees. “Got it.”
Your hand reaches for the car door when your family driver hurriedly adds, “I think Mr Lee will be pleased to see you tonight.”
“What?”
“You are stunning. Even a mask cannot hide your brilliance and he would be a fool not to know that.”
It was what you needed to hear, a firm push to get you out of the car and into the party. You tied your mask onto your face and gathered your handful of belongings in your hands. Security and a staff checks your party invite and you hand over your gift at the entrance hall before being escorted into the main room.
You hadn’t known what to expect but Mrs Lee’s party planning blew your expectations out of the water. Waiters walk around the room with a tray of drinks and by the corner, there’s a buffet table with an assortment of sweet treats.
A masked stranger walks up to you, stealing your attention away from the party decor. “Fine evening Miss.”
You awkwardly smile, thankful to be able to hide behind your mask. “Hi. You don’t have to be formal with me.”
His laughter is warm, a low timbre that is surprisingly pleasant. “I’m sorry. I guess I got nervous given the fact that half of the room is looking at you.”
Confusion clouds over your eyes. “Me? You probably meant us.”
He shakes his head. “You,” he repeats with more emphasis.
Slowly, you look around the room and notice the crowd has grown bigger during the time of your conversation. Maybe the masks serves as a shield for everyone tonight. People barely shy away from your gaze, comfortable to watch you from afar behind the safety of a mask. Your skin prickles uncomfortably and your smile grows tight. “I dont understand.”
The lights in the room brightens up and the murmur of the crowd increases. Donghyuck enters, gliding into the room. “Come on,” the kind stranger beckons and you follow, the two of you moving through the crowd to get closer to Donghyuck.
He’s donned a silky blouse in a shade of baby blue. The blouse leaves little to no imagination, a bold opening at his chest and the strings were barely tied together. His trousers are just as tight. You kept your gaze on his mask. It’s intricately designed and it helps distracts you from your wandering thoughts.
“Thank you everyone for coming tonight. My parents, who aren’t here tonight, bestowed this party onto me for my twenty first.” Donghyuck pauses and the crowd chuckle. “However, I am thankful for the overwhelming turn out. I want to keep it short and sweet. I wish everyone has an enjoyable night." Anyone who was holding a drink raised their glasses in the air, toasting to Donghyuck's speech. You watch him as he smoohtly downed a flute of bubbly. The ones nearest to him hoots and hollers at his bravado, some even patting him on the shoulder.
The crowd had disperesed but your gaze remains on Donghyuck's figure as you finally piece your thoughts together. This man is a stranger to you, just as much as you are a stranger to him.
A soft touch to your arm pulls you away from your thoughts. You look at your companion who was patiently waiting for you. "Do you mind if you were to keep me company tonight?"
Seeing as how you have yet to find Yizhou, you accept his kind invite. You offer him your hand and he gladly accepts it. "I'm Jung Sungchan, by the way."
You vaguely remember hearing his name in passing though you cannot recall his face. "And I'm Y/N Y/L/N."
His face brightens, probably with recogniton but he doesn't press on about your identity which you are glad for. "Have you taken a proper look around the room?" Sungchan asks you and you shake your head. He breaks out into a wide grin, almost conspiratorial. "I'll show you which dishes to avoid."
The night takes a pleasant turn. You and Sungchan tried various food and drinks, stuck in your own bubble and genuinely enjoying each others company. You find out that Sungchan used to play soccer with Donghyuck in the little leauges, a past time you hadn't known Donghyuck had gotten involved with. In exchange, you tell Sungchan that you're Donghyuck's distant family friend.
His company was much needed and you hadn’t realised it. Sungchan makes you laugh when he breaks out dance moves that mismatch the beat of the song. Sungchan makes you laugh when he spins you around on the dance floor. Sungchan makes you laugh when he properly showcases his dance skills.
“You are such a fucking liar!” You yell over the music. Your tongue is looser than your usual poised self. Thanks to the unsupervised crowd, the two of you shared several glasses of alcoholic drinks. Now, the alcohol courses through your veins, leaving you a little unguarded. “You can dance! Hell! You probably invented dance!”
Sungchan chuckles and gently pulls you in. “You are drunk. Let’s get you some water.”
You reluctantly follow him, letting Sungchan pull you through the throng of partygoers. He stops in front of Donghyuck, quickly greeting him.
“Hyung! Happy birthday!” Sungchan greets.
Donghyuck looks at Sungchan then at the masked girl standing close to his back. Their fingers are loosely wrapped together and Donghyuck smirks. “Picking up a girl at my birthday party?”
“What? No!” Sungchan insists. “Y/N’s tipsy. Or drunk? Either way, I’m bringing her out for some fresh air. We’ll be back though!”
He takes a proper look and recognition dawns over him. “Y/N?” Donghyuck’s confusion gets drowned by the noise. Sungchan successfully pulls you through the crowd and you two disappear from Donghyuck’s sight. He belatedly notes that you didn’t acknowledge him. A sudden heaviness weighs on his chest as he realises that you’re at his party, spending time with his close friend.
Outside, you take in a deep breath. Sungchan had guided you into the Lee’s estates gardens. It felt like you had stumbled into a forgotten memory having been ages since you had last stepped foot in there.
You undo the tie of your mask and blindly toss it onto the bench behind you. Sungchan does the same. He chuckles, amused by your drunken behaviour. “Do you know who I am?”
You open your eyes and look at him. “Surprisingly, I do and I am drunk.” You decidedly plop down on the empty bench.
“Can you stay put? I need to go back in and get you some refreshments, maybe scavenge for whatever snacks there are left.”
“Okay but while you’re at it, can you find Yizhou and bring her to me?”
Your request is silly, you don’t even know if Sungchan knew her but Sungchan indulges in it. “Sure. I’ll be back.” Sungchan spins on his heels and takes his leave.
For lack of better things to do, you begin riffling through your purse. You take your time to fix your makeup then unlocking your phone to take some selfies. After a series of blurry pictures, you give up and start taking pictures of the garden.
“What are you doing?” The unexpected interruption causes you to let out a shrill scream, nearly dropping your phone in the process. You turn to glare at your intruder. Donghyuck is standing at the end of the bench, staring at you unapologetically.
“What the hell,” you cussed instead of answering his question.
He wordlessly offers you a mug. It’s nothing like the fancy glassware that is being used at the party. Your eyes narrow in suspicion. Donghyuck sighs deeply. “It’s warm water. I heard you’re drunk.”
“No I’m not.” You say rather petulantly as you accept the drink. “Thanks,” you quickly mutter before taking a sip.
Without your invite, Donghyuck settles down into the empty space beside you and you glare at him again. He merely ignores your childish reaction.
The warm water helps and gives you a little clarity but you don’t want to admit it out loud to Donghyuck so you remain silent, clutching the mug close to your chest. You decided to keep your gaze straight ahead, focusing on a bush of roses.
“I didn’t think you’d come.” He quietly admits after some time.
“Of course I did. We’re still friends even though we haven’t acted like one in a long time.” You replied, equally as quiet.
The obvious distance between you two can no longer be ignored. You can’t help but ask. “Why did we stop being friends?”
Donghyuck surprises you. “I guess I wanted to see if I could be a big boy and live my life without you circling in it. Make my own choices instead of trying to live the life everyone wants for me.”
The corner of your lips twitches, partly amused by his raw honesty. “And are you doing well?”
You turn to look over at Donghyuck and you note the dozens of emotions swimming in his eyes. He seems lost and your heart aches for him.
“No, I am not.” Donghyuck shakes his head, “I am not worthy of you, Y/N.”
Your breath hitches. You’re instantly sobered up. Even without explicitly saying it, you know what Donghyuck is referring to. You feign ignorance. “What are you on about?”
“Y/N… You are a remarkable woman. Don’t get tied down to me. You deserve a chance to find someone else, meet other people. Anyone you end up marrying would be lucky enough to have you as their partner.” Donghyuck chooses his words wisely, deliberately rejecting you before you’ve even gotten a chance to try.
“And so? You want me to marry someone else just because you’re insecure?” Your words sting Donghyuck and he visibly flinches away from you, seeking comfort in the distance between you two.
“That’s not it,” he tries again but you’re not having it. “Then what is it Donghyuck?” You ask, exasperated by his confusing nature.
“It’s not fair because neither of us has a say in this marriage agreement.”
You shakily inhale. “Does the fact that I want you scares you?”
Your heart lurches to the bottom of your stomach. His silence is deafening, a reply in itself. You turn your head away from him, refusing to let Donghyuck see the beginnings of a breakdown surfacing onto your face.
“Donghyuck, I didn’t come here tonight to beg for your attention. I only came because I was intrigued by the fact that I had received an invitation. Whether it was your decision or your parents, I don’t care anymore. You don’t want me here? Fine, I’ll leave but you terribly confuse me. Why did you come here to take care of me at your own party? Why did you tell me not to leave? Why did you dance with me and kiss me on the cheek only to run off? Why did you get me an expensive gift and a handwritten card for my birthday just to ignore me? I don’t get it.”
Donghyuck’s mouth parts open to say something, anything, but the words are caught at the back of his throat. He’s never seen you this devastated before and he is the cause of it. Your high strung emotions had finally snapped and it came out pouring out of your mouth, no longer able to push it down.
You abruptly stood up from the bench. “At least now I know what you think of me. I am just a burden from your past and I’ll stay there. I will get out of your way.”
Every step away from Donghyuck hurt more than you’d like to admit it. You wanted to look back at him. You wanted him to chase after you. You wanted him to comfort you.
You’re so caught up in your greed and hurt that you don’t notice two figures hiding behind the nearest pillar. A clothed hand reaches out and pulls you into their hiding spot. You recognise Yizhou through your blurry vision. “Ning,” you manage to croak out before bursting into tears.
Yizhou pulls you into a comforting embrace and Sungchan moves, covering you with his broad figure. Your heartbreaking cries are loud enough for anyone nearby to hear but you couldn’t care less. You fail to notice Donghyuck standing a couple of metres from the three of you, an anguished look on his face. Sungchan glares menacingly at him and Yizhou fixes him with a look of disappointment.
Donghyuck returns to the kitchen through the staff entrance, mug in one hand and your masquerade mask in another. He is too dazed and he doesn’t notice the whispering staffs as he passes through the house, decidedly ditching his own party. Donghyuck carefully places your mask on his nightstand before falling into bed, recounting the night before everything went wrong with you.
Life moved on, making it feel as though nothing had changed between the two of you. You had no idea what ran through his mind and decided that it was not worth fixating on. Again, you grew up without him by your side. You went off to college and moved out of your parent’s place much to your mother’s dismay. There was still one thing in your life that she could control which was your marriage prospects.
Over the years, the Lee’s hadn’t hinted any change in uniting your families in matrimony and you had no interest in finding a prospective marriage of your own. It is the only reason why you allow your mother to meddle.
One day, your livelihood had changed under the guise of your monthly family dinner. Instead of your usual spot, your parents told you to meet at a fine dining restaurant nestled in the heart of the city. Your clothes were rumpled from running around campus the whole day. You were sure that your hair had lost its curls over the course of the day.
“Y/N? You wore this the whole day?” Her thinly veiled judgment was not out of the ordinary but your suspicions should have been raised when she subtly spoke with the hostess.
Too bad you hadn’t noticed because your father was speaking with you. He brushed your hair back, tucking it behind your ear. “You look beautiful. Your mother is just on edge tonight.”
“For what?” You frown as the two of you trailed behind your mother.
“We have guests tonight.”
Before you could press him for more answers, the hostess stops in front of a pair of sliding doors. You have no choice but to brace yourself for whoever is waiting behind those doors.
The door slides open, revealing a married couple and their son. “Please come in! We’re so glad you could make it to dinner.” Mrs Lee says.
Your parents naturally step forward into the room, greeting their friends. You wish to stay rooted in your spot but the hostess is looking at you funny. You slightly bow to them and make your way inside, standing closely to your parents.
“You remember Y/N?” Your father asked the Lee’s.
“Of course!” Mrs Lee answers. You offer her a shy smile and she returns it by enthusiastically pulling you down into a warm hug. Mrs Lee, just like your parents, had grown too old for socialising at year end parties. Your generation had taken over the scene which meant that the last time you had met the Lee’s was over five years ago. She still wore the same perfume and you relaxed into the hug, now wearing a genuine smile on your face.
Mrs Lee lets you go and you turn to greet Mr Lee. “Thank you for the invite Mr Lee.”
He casually waved you off. “No need for the formalities. You seem like you’re doing well, Y/N.”
“I am. I hope you are doing well.”
From behind, you heard Donghyuck’s voice. “Mr Y/L/N. Mrs Y/L/N. It’s so great to see you again.”
You finally turn towards him. While your mother showers him with compliments, you stay silent, observing Donghyuck. He smiles and laughs appropriately, even bantering back with your mother.
Mr Lee addresses the room. “Let’s settle down. We’ll catch up over the courses.”
The elders easily settle into their seats which leaves you no choice but to sit next to your father, the seat that is directly across from Donghyuck’s. You keep your gaze down.
After the first course is served, conversation picks up amongst the elders. You keep your reactions to yourself and train yourself not to react whenever Donghyuck speaks.
Mr Lee changes the flow of the conversation. “And Y/N, are you in your final year of college?”
You lift your head and look directly at Mr Lee before replying. “Yes. I came from school. I was writing my dissertation and consulting with my professor.”
Mrs Lee chuckles. “You’re so hardworking. I don’t even remember Donghyuck working this hard during his final years of college.”
The table laughs and Donghyuck says, “Knowing Y/N, she’s probably working ten times harder than necessary. I am not lazy. Y/N is just an overachiever.”
Donghyuck is already staring at you when you bring your gaze over to him. Your eyes are clouded, a stark contrast to the practiced smile that has graced your face. Your mother swoons. “That’s our Y/N. You still know her well.”
A ghost of a smile appears on his face. “I had great memories with you.”
It’s terribly awkward and you are all too aware of the adults listening in on your conversation. “We did. How could I ever forget my childhood companion.” You say and quickly take a sip of your drink, desperate to end the interaction between you two.
Thankfully the next course is being brought in and you channel your focus onto the waiter clearing your dishes. The door slides shut and Mrs Lee speaks up. “It is good that you kids go way back. It does make your future look promising.”
The elders exchange furtive glances, leaving you and Donghyuck in the dark. Luckily, Donghyuck is impatient enough to ask them the million dollar question. “What future?”
Mr Lee places a reassuring hand over Mrs Lee’s. He turns to look at his son for a second, before turning over to you. “The two of you are to be wedded.”
It feels like all of the air has been knocked out of you. You’re almost certain that you heard wrong but the sound of Donghyuck’s chair dragging across the floor confirms that your present situation was real. Donghyuck stands, taking the cloth and throwing it into his seat.
“I wish to be excused.” He’s out the door before you even realise it. Tension hangs over the room upon his departure. You’re baffled by the way Donghyuck had chosen to flee the scene, leaving you alone at a time of crisis. Hurt blooms in your chest but you tamper it down.
You face Mr and Mrs Lee, putting on your practiced smile. “I am honoured that you think so highly of me. Thank you for your generous consideration but clearly this will not work out.”
“It’s already been decided.” Mrs Lee states.
A blank expression takes over your face before you could stop yourself. You hear your mother force out a laugh. “After decades, you still hold onto our promise. Your family is loyal and we are grateful.”
Your father adds on. “Thank you for accepting Y/N as your daughter.”
The elders are back in good spirits, raising their glasses for a toast. Meanwhile, your clouded gaze darts over the empty space in front of you, wondering the outcome of your shared fate.
His rejection is still fresh in your mind. It replays on loop without your consent, distracting you from your priorities. The sting that has long been associated with Donghyuck’s name returns but this time, there’s extra pressure pressing onto your chest. Your pride is bruised by the fact that your chance has been taken away from you again. Donghyuck hadn’t even given you a second thought before storming out of the room.
Were you really that unappealing to him after all these years? You weren’t madly in love with him anymore but the impact is still as painful as it once was.
You didn’t want to tell Yizhou or any of your cousins so you called up your last option.
“Y/N! What’s up?” Sungchan greets you.
The only positive outcome from that particular memory was your friendship with Sungchan. He quickly got over his initial crush on you and the two of you forged a strong friendship. Your mother had attempted to make you two a couple but you firmly stopped her each time.
You sit up from your bed. “Hey, are you busy?”
“Not really. I’m running right now.”
You roll your eyes. “You’re crazy.” Sungchan laughs and you continue, “I need to talk. Can you find somewhere to sit?”
After a brief pause, Sungchan returns to the call. “Okay, I’m ready.”
You take a deep breath. There’s no easy way to break the news. “I’m getting married to Lee Donghyuck.” A beat of silence passes through and you begin to worry about Sungchan’s wellbeing. “Hello?”
“No, I’m still here. Sorry I just– What?” Sungchan stumbles over his words. Normally you would laugh and tease him but the situation is too grave for you to crack a smile.
“Yeah. I got ambushed yesterday by both my parents and his parents. He was there too.”
Sungchan quietly asked, “And he accepted you?”
The sting of rejection returns but you keep your voice levelled. “No. He stormed out of the meeting. I haven’t heard from him since.”
Sungchan makes a noise of frustration and cusses. “What a fucking asshole. I’m sorry.”
“Nah, it’s okay. I need to tell somebody before all hell breaks loose.” You brush your hair through your hands, already imagining the widespread effect of your marriage announcement. Yizhou would fly back to Seoul in a matter of hours.
“Okay. Just keep me updated, yeah?”
You nodded. “Of course. Thanks Sungchan.”
The call ends and you drop your phone onto your bed, watching it bounce around. Despite your tarnished history with Donghyuck, getting married to him is the best outcome for your family’s wellbeing. You’re capable of compartmentalising your feelings but you can’t say the same for Donghyuck.
Worry etched onto your face. You throw yourself into your fluffy pillows, smothering your face in it while letting out a frustrated scream. Whatever it is that Donghyuck throws your way, you must overcome it.
You did not know whether to be worried or amused. You had walked into your apartment lobby, surprised by the sight of Donghyuck in the lounge area. He looks up from his iPad when he hears the doorman greeting you.
“Finally,” Donghyuck mutters as he gathers his belongings. From the looks of it, he had set up a makeshift office in the lobby. You come to a stop in front of him, the front of your shoes narrowly touching his.
“What are you doing?”
“I came here to find you. We need to talk.”
“That’s rich coming from the guy who stormed out before we got the chance to talk.”
The security guard behind the counter looks on curiously, wondering if he should intervene. Donghyuck closes his eyes to compose himself. “I am sorry.”
“Thank you.” You said and then turned your back on him, strutting towards the lift.
You can hear Donghyuck scrambling and you smile to yourself. “Wait!”
The security guard reaches you first, putting distance between you and Donghyuck. “Ms Y/L/N, is this man harassing you?”
“Ha– Harass?” Donghyuck sputtered out as if he couldn't even fathom the idea of him causing trouble. “No, I am not a harasser!”
The security guard throws a cold look at his direction and Donghyuck shrinks slightly. The lift arrives and you make your decision.
“Come with me Donghyuck. This is your only chance.” You announce. The security guard seemed reluctant to let Donghyuck near you but you gently assure him, thanking him for his service. The ride up is silent much to your surprise. You walk ahead of Donghyuck and he trails behind you, like a dog with his tail tucked behind his legs.
It feels oddly natural to have Donghyuck follow you into your apartment. He lined his shoes beside your shoe rack in a neat manner and you passed him a clean pair of house slippers to put on. As you make your way into your apartment, Donghyuck marvels quietly at the decorations on display. Upon entering your living room, you hear the unmistakable sound of the camera going off and you stop to turn around. He looks guilty but he clutches his phone tightly.
“What did you do?” You try to intimidate him.
“Just getting some inspiration.” He lies.
You take a step closer to Donghyuck, an attempt at asserting dominance. “This is your first and last time here. Now, spit out whatever it is that brought you here in the first place.”
Donghyuck pockets his phone. “Here’s the deal. I can’t marry someone who hates me.”
“I am lukewarm about you, at most.” You deadpanned.
He gives you an unimpressed look. “There’s no way you don’t hate me. Are you sure you haven’t submitted my name to an Etsy witch?”
“My life stopped revolving around you for a long time now. You’re good.” The tips of Donghyuck’s ears redden at the implication of your words but you maintain your nonchalant stance. “This marriage would be good for my family and if you really detest it then take it up with your parents, not me.”
Donghyuck frowns. “Did you plant the idea in my parents head?” His tone is accusatory which causes you to snort mockingly.
“I haven’t spoken to your parents in ages. Find someone else to blame your misery on.”
It’s written on his face, the way Donghyuck doesn’t seem satisfied with his findings. He sighs heavily and his shoulders sink into his figure. A tired man remains standing in his place and you almost feel sympathetic for him. Almost, if not for the fact that he has been trying to pin the blame for your shared situation entirely on you.
You gently comb your hair back with your hands as you speak up, “I am not going to beg for you to marry me but just know that I will not fight against anything. Not marrying you is a bigger loss to me. I hope you know where I stand.”
Donghyuck meets your gaze, an unreadable expression in his eyes. “Is it really that easy?” He asks. His question surprises you but you try your best to conceal your shock.
“Yes.” The air in the room shifts and it was at that moment you knew that you could only keep up with the act of lying to yourself for a little longer. Impending doom lingers in the air but you ignore it and usher Donghyuck out of your life, for now.
The days leading up to your engagement ceremony was emotionally bearable but the day itself was bad enough to dampen your spirits. Your engagement was a quiet affair, as if your relationship was meant to be kept under wraps from the public eye. Whether it was up to Donghyuck or his parents, you don’t know but it didn’t matter because your own feelings were never considered in the first place.
It’s an odd experience to finally get engaged to Donghyuck. His best friends keep a polite distance from you, looking at you as if you were some stranger barging into their lives and not Donghyuck’s childhood best friend. Your own family were scattered in the hall based on a seating chart created by your future mother in-law. At least from your seat, you could easily see Yizhou and Sungchan three tables away from yours. You stuck out your tongue playfully to silently express your gratitude.
Your father had prepared a speech, bringing you to tears and the crowd cooed at you, warmed by your reaction. Much to your surprise, Donghyuck gets up from the seat beside yours and takes the microphone from your father. The room quietens and the attention shifts onto your fiancé, yours included.
“Thank you everyone for coming tonight. Thank you to my father and future father in-law for the speeches,” he pauses with a light laugh. His gaze sweeps around the room as he resumes his speech, “I am glad to share this momentous occasion with all of our loved ones. As much as I want to keep it brief for everyone, I also want to make it memorable for Y/N. I don’t know where our future will take us but I am willing to build a forever with you.”
Your face burns as the whole room looks at you again. You stare ahead at Donghyuck, a strong mix of emotions riding in your chest nearly breaking your composure. Knowing that everyone was waiting for your reaction, you settled on blowing Donghyuck a kiss. The room bursts into cheers when Donghyuck catches it.
The dinner carries on smoothly but there is an unspoken tension stringing between the supposedly happy couple. Your moves were controlled and you kept your physical touches to a minimum. It took every ounce of effort to not tug harshly on Donghyuck’s arm when you slid your hand into his. Your fingers were loosely wrapped around his arm, barely clinging onto the fabric of his suit. The facade you had on cracked as soon as you stepped into his car.
The engine revs to life and your seat belt clicks into place. “Why’d you do that?” You accuse him.
Donghyuck furrows his brows. “What?”
You match his annoyance. “You heard me.”
He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. “My parents told me to make a speech.”
“And you dedicated it to me?”
“Why are you mad at me? I thought this was what you wanted? I thought you wanted to marry me?”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “I do but why are you starting our marriage with empty promises! Building a forever with me? If you wanted to lie and perform you should have just gone all the way and said ‘I love you’ to seal the deal.” You rolled your eyes.
He scoffs in retaliation. “Seriously? And what about you and your fake kiss?” It was a pointless bicker but Donghyuck’s anger still rose, causing him to heavily breathe out of his nose. His hand on the wheel tenses.
“Everyone was expecting something from me because of you.” You punctuate the end of the sentence, every word hitting him heavily.
A pause fills the space between you two, every ticking moment ringing loudly in your ear. Donghyuck says, “I don’t know what you want from me.”
The engagement band on Donghyuck’s finger glimmers as the streetlights pass through the car windows. The overwhelming feelings from before return and your stomach clenches. Your voice weakens. “I want you to be real in our marriage.”
The car falls silent again and the only sound comes from the traffic outside. You don’t know if Donghyuck had heard you and you’re too prideful to repeat yourself so you remain silent, waiting for him. The car slows to a stop in front of a red light and Donghyuck’s breathing evens out.
“Tell me nicely next time instead of starting a fight, will you?” Your heart jolts at his unexpected reaction. “We could start by setting some boundaries. I was serious about my speech, Y/N. Let’s not make this any more difficult.”
His kept his voice was low and firm. The soft thrum of the engine keeps you calm as you process Donghyuck’s words. It sounds like he’s compromising with you based on the circumstances of your situation. They seem sincere enough for you to believe even though it’s unexpected of him. When Donghyuck drives into your apartment, you gather up your senses to apologise.
“I am sorry,” you loudly confess. Your eyes are cast downwards. The engagement band on your own finger is too hard to ignore at a time like this. “If you have time, you can come up and we can discuss such boundaries.” Your voice trails off at the end.
“I can’t.” Your gaze snaps towards his face, a small frown on display. “Not today but maybe tomorrow.”
“Okay.” You nod but remain seated in place. Now that it was time to leave, you find yourself wanting to stay with him longer. All fight has left you and the newfound peace is inviting as ever. You don’t know if you’ll be able to maintain it with him.
“Y/N,” Donghyuck says before he’s leaning in across the console, his lips lightly brushing against your cheek. You go completely still. “Text me when you’re in your apartment.”
You blindly reach for the door, seatbelt still strapped in and you can see Donghyuck giggling at you from your peripheral view. You glare at him and unbuckle yourself, tearing the passenger door opening and jumping out of the car. Donghyuck has the cheek to unwind the window, revealing a self-satisfied grin on his face.
“I’m leaving. See you tomorrow I think,” you announce as you spin on your heel and the echoes of Donghyuck’s laughter ring from behind you.
When you’re kicking your shoes off, you unzip your bag to take your phone out. You click on your chat with Donghyuck and send a simple thumbs up emoji. The message receipt changes immediately but you don’t get a response. Donghyuck clearly is still a menace who enjoys teasing you. You lock your phone and go about your night, ignoring the way your heart seems to race at the thought of your fiancé.
You hadn’t planned far enough.
While you knew you were getting married to Donghyuck, you still hadn’t made up your mind on whether you should fall in love with him again or protect your own heart. There’s a constant war of push and pull within you and you are not ready to let your pride down. Whenever you find yourself feeling the tiny bit giddy about Donghyuck, you immediately reel yourself in and remind yourself that your marriage will be built on camaraderie, not romance. Boundaries, rules, protocols. These were not norms of a couple romantically involved.
A soft knock on your workspace door interrupts your flow of thoughts and you look up to find Donghyuck sticking his head through the door. You slightly close your laptop to give him your attention.
“Wanna eat?” Donghyuck simply asks, holding a lunchbox above his head.
You quickly tidy up your work desk and Donghyuck makes himself comfortable, singing under his breath as he unpacks the contents of his lunchbox. You catch the melody of his favourite song. It sounds sweeter when he’s singing it.
The table is filled with comforting side dishes and your mouth waters at the sight of it. He saves the final box, pushing it towards the centre and cheekily glances over at you. “Hope you’re hungry because this is going to blow your mind.”
What Donghyuck doesn’t know is that you have been eating less than usual in the past week. You could barely count a banana and multiple cups of coffee as a meal but it was enough to keep you powered through your reports. Your stomach grumbles loudly, the savoury scent of chilli oil and chicken broth infiltrating your senses. Donghyuck had made steamed dumplings.
“Tada! The viral lasagne dumplings. All for you.”
“For me?”
“Yeah. I ate the first batch at home. It was too good to pass on.”
You quietly raised your brows as you picked up a clean set of chopsticks. He’s watching you intently, hands tucked under his chin and his elbows are resting on the table. You ignore him and focus on the food.
“Is it good?” He asks. You’re frowning as you chew. Looks like you found another unfair quality Donghyuck upholds, his ability to cook.
Your frown deepens. “This is amazing.”
Donghyuck laughs. His glasses slip from the bridge of his nose as he throws his head back. “You look so angry but you’re actually happy with my cooking.”
“This is my happy face,” you tell him.
“Right,” he shakes his head fondly and pushes the side dishes closer to you. “Eat up.”
You had thought your meal would be filled with endless chatter from Donghyuck’s end but a phone call suddenly takes over his attention. He stands at the edge of the table, phone in hand as his body leans against the table for support. You sit through your meal taking peeks at him and scrolling on your phone, catching familiar words but not fully grasping the situation. Your name is mentioned a few times followed by some hush remarks.
“Can’t you and Jeno lead the meeting? What do you even need me there for?” A tight expression draws upon your fiancé’s face. His eyes meet yours and you see a flash of anger in it. You quickly cast your eyes downwards and feign ignorance. “I’ll see you in twenty.”
The room is expectantly silent and you break it by sending him away. “Go. Whatever it is, it needs your attention.”
You’re not looking at him. You keep yourself busy by cleaning up the table. Donghyuck exhales. “I’ll see you around.”
Your will is stronger than expected. As he takes his leave, you make sure not to look at him. Donghyuck’s grip on the door falters and you don’t even notice. The door falls shut and tension in your body releases. You could hardly comprehend what had transpired between the two of you but you knew better than to let Donghyuck in. It’s clear that you will not be a priority to him and you will treat him the same.
As soon as the investors left the table, Donghyuck slumped into the seat. Chenle glared at him. All the niceness at the table had dissipated along with their investors.
“We almost didn’t close the deal because you’re distracted.” Chenle coldly remarked.
Donghyuck cocks his head. “You got what you wanted. Why complain?”
Jeno shakes his head. “We know you have a lot of things going on at home but Donghyuck, we need your one hundred percent commitment. Not unless you want this endeavour of ours to fall apart.”
Donghyuck takes a swig of his drink. The burn of the alcohol smoothly slides down his throat. Chenle challenges, “Are you done playing house?”
“Chenle,” Jeno says warningly.
“You’re letting Y/N cloud your priorities. Leaving work early just to see her? Hanging around a college campus to see her? Trying to ditch an investor’s meeting? Dude, it’s an arranged marriage. Why are you trying so hard? Stop wasting time–”
“I’ll have to stop you right there. You guys don’t know the full story because I choose to keep some information to myself.” Donghyuck straightens up and leans forward, maintaining a steady gaze on his friend’s faces. “Talk shit about me all you want but not my marriage and definitely not Y/N. I don’t care how unhappy you are with me. That is not an excuse.”
Chenle dryly scoffs. “Sure. Fine. I’m sorry for that.”
“Thank you.” Donghyuck nods. His shoulders drop and he offers them a small smile. “I’ll try to be more proactive. Just bear with me a little. Y/N’s important to me.”
Chenle and Jeno share a silent look, Jeno wordlessly urging the younger to tone down his anger towards Donghyuck with a raise of a brow. Chenle sighs and waves a hand in the air. “You get one more chance to talk about Y/N for tonight and that will be the last!”
Donghyuck’s face splits into a wide smile as he leans forward. “Have I told you guys about the time when we went on a holiday to her family’s ski lodge?”
The past few years for Donghyuck had been a blur. While you went on to make a future for yourself, Donghyuck had found himself stuck in the past.
By the time he tried to put a name on his feelings, time had passed and the distance between you two had grown wider than before. He did not know how to cross it, if you would even let him shorten the gap just for him to offer up an apology. Ignoring your existence was easier than reaching out to you.
When his parents had hinted that they were arranging a marriage for him, he wasn’t all too happy but he conceded with their decision. His life was never his to begin with even though his heart longed for yours.
Maybe Donghyuck was naive or maybe he didn’t want to accept the truth when you walked into the room. He let his polished persona take over to distract himself from his impending panic. You hated him. You wouldn’t even look him in the eye and Donghyuck can’t blame you. After all, he had inflicted hurt upon you. Donghyuck can tell from the hardened gaze you throw his way and your closed off body language that you wanted nothing more than to run off from the dinner meeting.
The pretense of the meeting had unveiled itself. Ultimately, his father uttered the words that would trigger his fight or flight instincts. Donghyuck stupidly fled the scene. Tears clouded his visions as he fumbled with the car handle. The girl who had once loved him, the same girl who got hurt by his avoidant nature is now betrothed to him. What a horrible twist of fate.
Donghyuck took a strangled breath in and collected his emotions, at least enough for him to drive to Mark. Aside from Yizhou and Sungchan, Mark was the only other person who knew of the tragic end of your friendship. His hands are shaking but he manages to connect Mark to his car speakers.
“Mark hyung,” Donghyuck rasps out.
“Yo, shit?” Mark immediately replies. “What’s wrong?”
Donghyuck restlessly drums his fingers against the steering wheel. “Are you home?”
“Yeah.” He presses harder on the pedal. “I’m coming over.”
Mark wordlessly led a tear-stricken Donghyuck into his living room. He came back with a mug of warm water but it remained untouched by Donghyuck. Mark sits upright in his own chair, observing his best friend. “What happened?”
Donghyuck opens his mouth to try and speak but the words don’t come out. His tongue darts out as he sighs heavily. “I’m getting married to Y/N.”
“Huh?”
“I don’t deserve her. I never did. I never will. I am total fuck up.”
Mark frowns. “Wait. This whole time your parents were set on getting you two together?”
“Turns out the future partner they were looking for me had always been there. Y/N.” Donghyuck laughs dryly at the circumstances of his life. He threads his fingers through his hair, channeling his frustration into messing his hair. “I’m so afraid that she’ll resent me even more. I realised my feelings for her too late. I did not even try to understand my feelings. I did not want to fall into the expectations surrounding us. I thought I could choose my own destiny but our fates were always going to be entangled. I was too foolish to grasp that.”
Mark stays silent as he allows Donghyuck’s words to sink in. He tilts his head thoughtfully. “Did Y/N say outright that she hates you?”
“No.”
“Then why are you adamant that Y/N hates you?”
“I see it in her eyes.” Donghyuck firmly says. “We have spent so much time apart in our formative years. We are basically different people now. I feel so inadequate to be her lifelong companion. People don’t get it. She doesn’t get it.”
Mark, ever so earnest, grows frustrated with his best friend’s stubbornness. “To be frank, I don’t get why you’re having an inferiority complex over Y/N. You are doing great things at your father’s company and your own independent business as well. The name you are building for yourself is remarkable. What more could impress Y/N?”
Donghyuck throws a hand in the air. “Maybe an emotionally intelligent guy who doesn’t suppress his emotions.”
“Then be that man!” Mark urges him. He stands up and walks over to Donghyuck. “Go and initiate things with her. Make things better between you two. Let it start with you.”
“You really think I can do that?” Donghyuck asks him in a small voice.
Mark grins encouragingly. “Sitting around here and moping about the girl you love is not enough. Go chase after her.”
Donghyuck feels his heart thudding in his chest, a surge of hope coasting through his body. “Well, maybe not today. I am kinda burnt out from this rollercoaster of emotions.” He says lightheartedly.
And so he tries because in spite of your strong demeanour, he can feel the gap between you two bridging slowly. You entertained his small talks with wordless gestures such as a quirk of your lip or twitch of an eye. You sent him an emoji every time you made it home after a meeting with him and his parents. And ever since the engagement ceremony, your dynamics have settled into a comfortable pace, similar to a partnership between two business partners.
Your boundaries had been laid out for him and Donghyuck feels hopeful about your marriage. He hadn’t realised how much his friends disapprove of your presence in his life until that dinner experience. If only everyone knew how Donghyuck treats you with utmost care because he wants to make it up to you for hurting you all those years ago. It wasn’t just him that was holding onto that memory. Donghyuck can still recall the curt smile Sungchan gave him at the engagement ceremony, obviously still holding a grudge against him.
The indifference you show him is subtle to others but Donghyuck can read you even after all those years apart. You barely show any reaction to his quips and your facial features are controlled to reveal just a fraction of emotions. He silently cusses Jeno and Chenle out for causing the setback in his progress.
You two are having dinner at the Lee’s estate. You’re seated on his left hand side, ever so poised and mannered. You only muttered one word replies to Donghyuck since he picked you up from your apartment. His mother leads the conversation and Donghyuck is grateful for that.
“Correct me if I’m wrong but your friends are Jung Sungchan and Ning Yizhou?” She suddenly asks.
You nod your head as confirmation. “Yes, why? Is there anything wrong?”
Mrs Lee laughs cordially. “Nothing wrong. It’s just that for a while, before we approached your parents about your marriage, we were all under the impression that you were being courted by Jung Sungchan.”
Donghyuck tenses. He remembers his mother prodding him about you and Sungchan and he mindlessly waved her off. It was pretty known that you two were close friends and it was natural for speculation to arise. He himself had believed in them at one point.
You nearly choke on your bite of food. Donghyuck panics and passes you your glass of water which you graciously accepted. “No. Not once have we ever been involved. I can assure you,” you say after collecting yourself.
“It’s not me you have to assure,” Mrs Lee finishes off with a hearty laugh.
Donghyuck doesn’t miss the crack in your composure, the side glance casted in his direction as he stares at the interesting patterns on the ceramic plate.
His parents retire to their room and only the two of you remain. You finish the last of your dessert, gracefully dabbing your napkin on your lips. Donghyuck had been unexpectedly silent. He barely looked at you for the rest of the night. The elephant needed to be addressed. “You were worried about me and Sungchan?” You causally questioned him.
Donghyuck shyly raises his gaze to meet yours. “No.”
“No?” You echoed.
His eyes draw away from yours as he replies, “I mean, my mother was asking about you. I just told her what I thought– what everyone thought.”
“Which was?”
He looks at you almost pleadingly but you remain firm, wanting to hear him admit it out loud. Donghyuck concedes in a small voice. “You and Sungchan? Everyone thought you were involved.”
“And you were worried.” You reminded him, your tone was steadier compared to his.
“I– I was not. Intrigued? Maybe.” He stuttered out.
Clearly you were unconvinced. You smirk at his flustered expression, leaning comfortably into your seat. It was a sight to see Donghyuck embarrassed but the humour only lasted briefly. “Just so you know, nothing happened between me and him. Nothing will happen in the future. We’re bound to each other now.” You tell him, hoping you sound as sincere as possible.
He doesn’t give you a verbal answer but you can tell from his body language that he’s partly relieved. Donghyuck still looks at you with a heavy gaze, as if he’s thinking deeply about you while you’re seated inches away from him. You raise a brow at him, the most expression you’ve given him lately. He’s so transparent. You can see it on his face when he loses his internal battle.
“Y/N, do you remember those questions you asked me on my birthday?” Donghyuck quietly asks. Maybe it was meant to be a rhetorical question but the shift in mood made it hard for you to believe so. You nod stiffly. “I found the answer for it. I won’t tell you now but one day, I will.” His shoulders are squared like a soldier who’s ready to walk into battle. Suddenly, the gravity of his words hit you.
A promise? Your brows furrowed as you tried to make sense of his words. If you were understanding his vague statement, it would mean that Donghyuck had figured out what you meant to him. It sounds terrifying and you are slightly grateful that Donghyuck was willing to delay the conversation a little longer.
Even tossing and turning in bed didn’t help soothe your anxiety. You itched to ask him outright and revisit the conversation from that night but it is still too emotionally taxing for you to revisit it.
Instead, you let yourself focus on wedding planning. You frequently met up with your mother, future mother in law, fiancé and the wedding planner. It took up a good chunk of your attention which managed to keep your sanity at bay. You give a lot of input considering the fact that it’s the only time you’ll ever be wedded in this lifetime. You even managed to negotiate with the elders to find a bridal dressmaker of your choice. Slowly, your dream wedding came to life. You had the groom you had always wanted even though the circumstances were not ideal.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Yizhou eyed you warily.
The two of you were seated on the patio of a café, lined along the alleyway of hipster buildings. Yizhou was back in Seoul for business and you had barely managed to squeeze in a meet up with her. You caught her up with your stale love life and now she’s staring at you with apprehension.
You nod sagely. “I’ve accepted the truth long ago.”
“Do you still love him?”
You hum thoughtfully, carefully picking your words. “It’s hard to say honestly. He meant the world to me. I think Donghyuck will always leave a deep mark on me. As long as nothing romantic happens between us, I’ll be fine. My feelings for him will remain dormant.” His promise crosses your mind as you speak but you decided to ignore it, resolute in your own words and beliefs.
“But you’ll be married forever. How can you be so sure nothing changes between the two of you?” Yizhou had a valid point and you didn’t have a proper answer for it.
You offer her a shrug and a half-hearted grin. “I guess I’ll have to cross that bridge if I ever get there.”
Wedding planning has been going well. You were set to marry a week after your last submissions, a terribly packed period for you but one that worked in favour for both parties. It was right before the fourth quarter of the year which gave you a chance to be introduced as a wedded couple during year end celebrations.
You had been cooped up with your assignments all week long but your appearance was needed for the venue viewing. The grease in your hair had built up over time and you dragged yourself to the shower, indulging yourself to a relaxing hair wash. The most put together outfit you have worn this whole week was a stained sweatpants and a tattered concert tee.
You had just stepped out of the shower when your phone buzzed with a message from Donghyuck, notifying you of his arrival. You grimaced and you plucked your phone from your nightstand. You immediately called him.
“Y/N?”
“Hey, I need you to park. I just got out of the shower.”
Donghyuck feels his mouth go dry. “Hmm?”
“Just park by the side and tell the guards that you’re coming up.” You tell him as you stand in front of your closet, eyeing your options with your phone lazily positioned close to your face. Donghyuck has yet to disconnect the call and you can hear him making his way to you, a soothing constant sound you needed to fill your room.
The tale-tell sound of the lift lobby resounds through your phone. “I’m entering the lift,” Donghyuck mutters.
You grab a long sleeved dress and hurriedly pull it over your body. You still have to dry your hair and do your makeup. You were plugging in your hair dryer when Donghyuck spoke up again. “Hey, I’m outside your door.”
You rattled off your code without a second thought. From your room, you could hear the door being unlocked and his successful attempt to let himself in. “Y/N?” Donghyuck called out.
“In here!” You replied, knowing that you had left your door ajar.
Your heart thrums with anticipation but you keep yourself focused on your task at hand. A soft knock on the door followed by Donghyuck sticking his head through the door. It’s quite the sight and you find yourself staring at him through the mirror. You turn the hair dryer off.
“Come in,” you invited him.
He freezes for a second and you nodded encouragingly, coaxing him into entering your room. “I need ten more minutes.”
Donghyuck glances at his wrist. You guys would inevitably be late but Donghyuck doesn’t mind the wrath his mother might incur on him. “That’s okay,” he says as he stands in a random spot by the door. You can see the clear restraint on his face which makes you laugh.
You turn in your seat, looking him in the eyes. “You don’t have to stand there. You can sit on my bed or look around my room.”
Donghyuck pointed towards the bed for confirmation and you nodded. While you are occupied with your hair and makeup, Donghyuck sits on the edge of your bed, simply taking in the details of your room. Your bookshelf is filled with books of all kinds of genres. He squints at a dark red box by the shelf above your bed frame. It sits underneath a stack of DVDs, titles of albums he doesn’t recognise. There’s several other memorabilia like a figurine or a photo frame on the shelf. It’s soothing to be in your space and having your presence nearby. He can imagine it, a near future where he’s all moved in, sharing mundane moments with you. He wants it all.
“Okay, I’m done.” You announce, snapping Donghyuck out of his reverie. You finally get a proper look at Donghyuck and realise how your outfit complements his. There’s something dizzying about the way Donghyuck stared at you. You subconsciously fix your hair.
“Wow,” he mumbled.
Not wanting to be swayed by Donghyuck’s reaction, you choose to glare at him. “We’re late! Let’s go.”
He giggles, knowing that your glare has no real heat to it. You break out into a matching smile having given up on being serious. “Come on.”
Donghyuck was in a good mood. His phone was ringing with incoming messages from his mother and a call quickly came along. He gestured at you to pick it up, knowing that if his mother heard your voice, she would be kinder.
“Lee Donghyuck, where are you? Did you know we’re running twenty minutes behind schedule?”
You cringed but worked up the courage to answer. “Hey Mrs Lee, it’s Y/N. Donghyuck is driving.”
“Oh! Y/N,” Mrs Lee perks up. She laughs offhandedly, “My Donghyuck is a troublemaker. Are you okay?”
“Actually, I was the one who was running late. I am sorry but we’re nearby. I promise! I think we’re five minutes away?”
You glance over at Donghyuck for help and he chuckles, leaning over to speak into the microphone. “We’re ten minutes away. Just calm down and sip some wine.”
“Yah, Donghyuck.” Mrs Lee starts and your eyes widens, panic creeping in.
Donghyuck mouths, “Hang up. Now.”
You do as you are told and the car lapses into silence for a brief moment. You were the first one to burst into laughter, crouching forward in your seat, eyes tightly closed as all you can think of was Donghyuck feeding into your future mother-in-law's anger.
“What?” Donghyuck asks, a lilt to his voice. He has not seen you unpoised in so long. Your bright laughter and relaxed posture is rare to him.
“Nothing,” you finally say as you straighten yourself out. You shake your head almost fondly. “Nothing really.”
Your smile remains on your face which betrays your attempt at being composed. Donghyuck sneaks a glance over to admire the sincerity of the moment and he decides to stay silent, afraid of disturbing your newfound glee.
By the time you two arrived at the venue, you had already calmed down enough. There’s the remnants of your smile on your face and only Donghyuck knows the details behind it. The thought sends a thrill up his spine.
Maybe your joy was infectious enough for his mother’s bad mood to disappear or perhaps Mrs Lee was relieved to see her future daughter-in-law finally feeling settled in the arrangement. Whatever annoyance Mrs Lee harboured disappeared when she happened to witness the way you and Donghyuck looked at each other. The mirth in both of your faces was similar to your childhood memories. She pulls the wedding planner to her side, happy to give the engaged couple some privacy.
The phone call comes while Donghyuck wraps up his report. Your name flashes on the screen and he jumps for his phone, waits for a second and then answers the call.
“Hyuck,” you drawled into the phone. The background of the call is loud but Donghyuck is more distracted by the old nickname.
“Y/N?”
“Everyone’s teasing me. They want you here.”
“They? What about you? Do you want me to come?” He asks even though he’s already digging through his pocket for his car keys.
You gasped dramatically. “You can’t ask that!”
An overlap of voices cut through the call and Donghyuck can vaguely hear you scolding your friends. You cuss them out before returning to the call.
“Sorry, my faculty mates are so nosy.” Your voice is clearer now, like you had stepped out to talk to him.
Donghyuck stands by his car. “Should I come over?”
“Yeah,” you replied quietly. “I want you here.”
“Share your location with me?”
He finds you seated alone in the outdoor seating of the bar. “Y/N!” Donghyuck calls out as he gets out of his car. You spot him, waving enthusiastically at him from the other side of the road.
He jogs over to you. “Why are you out here alone?”
You tilt your head to the side, not quite understanding the worried undertone of his voice. “I was waiting for you.”
Donghyuck steels himself to remain firm with you. A pout had formed on your lips. You’re irresistibly cute when you’re drunk, even now as an adult. He softens his tone, “Thank you for waiting out here but I don’t think it's safe that you’re out here alone. Maybe next time ask a friend to keep you company, ‘kay?”
“Okay,” you mumbled.
You remember your friends teasing you relentlessly about Donghyuck and your eyes widened at the memory. “Wait.” You grab his hands, pulling him and he stumbles into your space. “Everyone thinks you’re my secret partner. They think we’re madly in love with each other. My classmates, they don’t know what we know.”
Donghyuck blinks as he processes your words. He nods slowly. “That’s what I’m here for, right?”
You distractedly play with his hands, pressing your own palms against his. It’s warm to the touch. Your smooth slender fingers splayed over his thick roughened fingers. “Last time we held hands like this, we were still kids,” you offhandedly remarked.
“Y/N…” Donghyuck’s pained tone urges you to look up. “What do you want to do?” His voice is quiet but his plea is loud enough for you to hear.
The corners of your mouth twists with contemplation. Deep within you, the last walls that contained your affection for your fiancé, have cracked open. There’s too many thoughts running through your head and you’re not sober enough to confront them. It hurts to pretend you don’t notice the expectant look on Donghyuck’s face but it’s better than acting rashly.
“Can we just go inside? I’ll introduce you to my friends.” Donghyuck concedes with a nod of his head. You laced your fingers with his in one hand and slowly let go of the other. Throwing on your best smile, you look over your shoulder and try to lift the mood. “You’re going to love this place. There’s a pool table I want to show you.”
Embarrassing doesn’t even cut it.
Maybe the Lee’s estate is a homeground of your embarrassing moments like this one, where you wake up in the guest room of their estate as a disheveled mess. You wake up sprawled across a pillow with the Lee’s family insignia on it, the cursive font in the significant family colour. The longer you squeeze your eyes shut, the more memories you manage to recover. Nursing a hangover at your future in-law’s house is a terrifying situation you have landed yourself in.
You look around the room and thankfully, your phone is on the nightstand, plugged into a power outlet. Donghyuck’s name sits at the top of the list of notifications. You quickly read it, thankful that Donghyuck texted you to call him when you had woken up.
You have a small window of time to freshen up before facing him. Standing in front of the sink, you study yourself. You look put together for a person who had a chaotic night out. Your makeup has been removed, your hair a little tangled from sleep and you’re wearing a comfortable pyjamas set. The Lee’s family insignia is subtly embroidered into the collar of the shirt.
You’re in the midst of brushing your teeth when a soft knock comes from outside. Just like before, Donghyuck cautiously peers into the room before letting himself in. You step out of the joint bathroom to lean against the frame of the door, uncaring that your toothbrush was still hanging from your mouth.
“You’re up earlier than expected,” Donghyuck muses. You give him a small glare and hold your hand up before disappearing into the bathroom to rinse your mouth.
He’s seated on the bed by the time you get back. “Are your parents home?”
Donghyuck raised a brow. “They left this morning for church and whatnot but they know you’re here. Nothing ever stays a secret in this house.”
Your eye twitches. What a horrific impression you have made of yourself. “Why didn’t you send me home? You know my code!” You practically yell.
He raises his voice back. “I tried to! Wha– Wait. You don’t remember?”
You’re stumped. Hadn’t you recalled everything that happened last night? “Remember what?” You carefully asked.
Donghyuck’s hesitant response could not prepare you for the truth. “You wanted to follow me home. That’s why we’re here.”
“Oh, fuck.”
A deep frown settles on your face. You can only remember getting into Donghyuck’s car, the rest of the ride was a blur. You can’t think of a reason why Donghyuck would lie to you which meant that you were the clingy person you vowed not to be.
If he were being honest, Donghyuck was scared of you. Would you be mad at him and push him away? After last night, Donghyuck only wants to hold you closer to him. He’s seen before how much hurt he can unravel. He can only hope that things turn out differently.
You lightly tug at your hair, stressed out by the turn of events. “I’m going home.”
“Let me drive you home.” Donghyuck stood up. You didn’t try to fight him. Instead, you walk around the room trying to find your clothes from the night before but it’s nowhere to be found.
“Where’s my clothes?” Donghyuck pads across the room and opens the wardrobe, revealing your outfit from last night. Your top and jeans were hanging separately in a tidy manner. You stood a few inches behind Donghyuck. “You did this?”
“Yeah. Don’t worry though, my helper did the difficult job of undressing you.” Donghyuck grabs your clothes and offers it to you.
You scoffed to hide your embarrassment. “Difficult?”
Donghyuck is uncharacteristically silent and when you look at him, you find that he’s red in the face. He’s definitely recalling something that you did last night. Probably something embarrassing and life ending information that makes you wonder if you even wanted to gain back those memories. You narrowed your eyes and let out a harrumph, making a show out of walking past him and heading off to the bathroom.
The staff greet you and Donghyuck each time you pass them, completely blowing any sense of discreetness you tried to uphold. At the very least, his parents were still out which helped you save your last strand of dignity.
The car ride is mostly silent save for the occasional sound from Donghyuck when he sings under his breath. Your favourite song comes on shuffle and Donghyuck turns the volume up. You look at him, having not expected him to remember such a specific detail about you. You had thought you were the only one who held on tightly to your shared past but Donghyuck’s natural reaction says otherwise.
You’re still deep in thought when Donghyuck reaches the entrance of your apartment. He waits quietly, knowing better than to interrupt you. He’s staring blankly ahead and wonders about the weight you’ve been carrying alone, if you’re ready to put it down.
“Hey, I’m not sure what I did last night but thanks for putting up with me.”
He turns to you and sees that you’re shyly tucking your hair before your ear, looking down at your lap instead of him. Donghyuck couldn’t help himself from saying, “Do you think you’re a burden to me?”
This causes you to look up, shock written across your face. “What? Where’s this coming from?”
“I don’t put up with you, Y/N.” His voice is soft but firm. “You’re going to be my wife. We both agreed to this. You are a priority in my life.” You nervously chew on your lower lip. Again, you’re not in a proper mindset to be having such a heavy conversation with him. Despite that, you’re still affected by Donghyuck’s confession, leaving your stomach fluttering.
Your mouth parts but nothing comes out. Donghyuck breaks out into a small smile, an underlying melancholy to it. “You don’t have to say anything. I needed you to know that, that’s all.”
It doesn’t seem right to leave wordlessly so you lean across the console, craning your neck to leave a peck on his cheek. “Thank you,” you whisper before pulling away. The wistfulness from the two of you was palpable and you weren’t completely relieved from it. The crack in your walls grows wider and you don’t know if you’re ready for them to fall.
In a room full of people, Donghyuck would rather be alone with you.
He’s at a party with his friends but he’s not participating. Donghyuck has chosen to stick to the walls to watch his friends shake hands with potential business partners.
“You look mad.” Jaemin siddles up to him, his usual charming smile on full display.
“You could say that.” Donghyuck nods in acknowledgement.
“You miss her,” he says to Donghyuck as a matter-of-factly. Donghyuck stares at him with suspicion. He has never confided in Jaemin regarding you and he knows Mark would never gossip about him. Jaemin snorts. “Chill. I can tell because you’re miserable and you can’t stop playing with your ring.”
Donghyuck instantly stops fidgeting, his finger resting against the cool metal of his engagement band instead. He was not fully aware of his own actions. How can it be that Jaemin had managed to see through him?
“I think it’s nice.” Jaemin adds offhandedly.
Donghyuck drops his hands to his sides. “What’s nice?”
“That you’ve found someone to cherish. To love.”
The way you pleaded with him while you were drunk plays like a constant loop in his mind. A glimpse of your younger self had shone through that night before your matured self took over, demanding that you be taken back to the Lee’s estate. Even in your drunken state you were able to outsmart him by claiming that it is your marital right to stay there. Donghyuck smiled fondly. “She’s always been there. I just had trouble seeing what was in front of me all along.’
“Can I ask what made you come to a realisation? I think the Donghyuck I knew never really cared about settling down.”
“I didn’t just hurt Y/N. I crushed her.” Donghyuck looked down, collecting his thoughts to put it into perspective. “It was scary to see her devastated because of me and I hadn’t realised that I had inflicted hurt onto her. I care for her so much to the point that I didn’t even understand it until she walked away from me.”
His face crumpled up without meaning to and Jaemin takes a good look at his friend. Anyone can see the remorse eating away at him. Jaemin lays a comforting hand over Donghyuck’s shoulder, squeezing it. “Give yourself a chance to be forgiven.”
And Jaemin was right. All the hesitation could not prolong any more.
The sky is bright and cloudy, the perfect weather to be out enjoying the sunshine with the presence of another but you’re cooped indoors. You should be at home, the deadline for your dissertation inching closer day by day but as of late, your time has been occupied by your wedding. The only consolation is Donghyuck being there with you.
You had your first meeting with the bridal atelier of your choice two months back and now you’re back for the try on. The flutes of champagne remain untouched. Your fingers thrum against your thigh, feeling restless as the tailors prepare the dressing room for you. Donghyuck wordlessly slips his hand over yours, grounding you to the present moment. You peek over at him and he’s already looking at you. There’s an unspoken devotion in his gaze. You wonder when he had started looking at you with stars in his eyes.
“Ms Y/L/N? We’re ready for you.” You jump away from Donghyuck, clearing your throat. You offer him a small smile and he nods.
You’re careful when you try on your wedding gown, still in great disbelief about the fact that your dream dress has come to life. The assistant showered you with praises as she zipped you up. You let out a gasp as you gaze at your reflection in the mirror.
“Absolutely gorgeous. He is a lucky man.” The assistant said from behind you, startling you out of your reverie. “I’ll give you a moment. Let us know if you need anything.”
You touch the fabric of your gown with reverence, thumbing the rich silky fabric elegantly draped across your figure. A smile finds its way onto your face and you set your shoulder back to meet Donghyuck.
Donghyuck looks up from his phone when he hears the curtains open. His jaw goes slack when he sees you stepping into the room. Your hair has been pulled into a messy updo, stray pieces of hair framing the sides of your face. You’re looking at him with hope and Donghyuck can see the rest of your lives playing out before his eyes.
He rises to his feet. “Wow. That doesn't even cut it.”
You fold your hands in front of you. “Hyuck,” the old nickname slips out of your mouth, “stop. Be honest. Is it alright?”
“Alright?” He gawks. “Y/N, you're drop dead gorgeous!” Donghyuck exclaims before collapsing into his seat. Your laughter carries through the room, filling it with light.
“Whatever you say, Hyuck.” You giggle.
“You don’t believe me! Come here.” He beckons as he walks over to you. Donghyuck meets you halfway to stand face to face with you. “I cannot wait until you say the words ‘I do’ and I become yours.”
You’re blushing furiously but you don’t want to run away from the moment. Taking a leap of faith, you reach out for his hands, guiding it to rest on your waist. His hands are splayed firmly against the bodice of the gown, pressing into your body as a constant reminder that you’re not dreaming.
“I don’t know what to say.” Your voice is quiet as you confess to him.
Donghyuck shakes his head gently, leaning downwards to be closer to your face. “Just say ‘I do’ when the time comes.” And in that moment, you felt the final crack in your chest, the once impenetrable walls that had protected you, crumbled upon the promise of a loving future. You simply cannot wait.
You’re staring at your ring, letting yourself get distracted by it. Your mother is talking your ear off about wedding preparations while the rest of the table waits for Donghyuck’s arrival. You have never thought you’d be praying for his presence to offer you respite from your mother’s overwhelming chatter.
“I’m sorry I’m late.” You shoot up in your seat at the sound of his voice. After a long day bent over your laptop, you needed to see a comforting face.
Donghyuck goes over to your parents first. A firm pat to his back from your dad and a tight hug from your mom. He flashes you a glimmering smile when he gets to you and you feel your face redden under his attention. You turn in your seat to greet him and Donghyuck bends to your level, leaving a peck on your cheeks in greeting. “Hey, sorry I’m late.”
You know your parents are watching but you still try to keep your voice low enough for Donghyuck’s ears only. “Better now that you’re here.”
His eyes flicker to your mouth and back to your eyes. “Yeah,” Donghyuck thoughtlessly replies.
Across the table, your father coughs and Donghyuck scrambles into the empty seat beside you. You avoid his eyes and keep your head ducked, allowing your father to lead tonight’s dinner.
“I was just talking about the wedding. We’re so close to the date.” Your mother beams.
Donghyuck casts a glance over his shoulder and notices your dampened mood. He takes a small sip of water. “There’s always so much to prepare and on top of it all, Y/N is working hard on her dissertation.”
Your father smiles softly as he speaks, “That’s right. How’s it going honey?”
“I’m almost done. If my upcoming consultation with my professor goes well, I might be able to turn in my paper sooner than expected.”
“That’s great news darling,” Your mother says as you share the good news with them. She continues, “I’ve been worried that school was going to delay everything.”
Your smile dims and your eyes flicker over to Donghyuck, wishing if he could disappear. You hate moments like these with your mother as she dismisses your hard work, giving you backhanded praise as she priorities her pride over your emotions. The closer the wedding gets, the more remarks your mother makes and she’s clearly stopped holding herself back around Donghyuck. Your face grows red in embarrassment and you feel yourself go mum.
Donghyuck shifts in his seat. He gives your mother a stiff smile as he says, “I would wait however long to marry Y/N. We are to be wedded for life. A brief delay means nothing to me if it’s to ensure Y/N’s happy.”
You see the whiplash your parents experience from Donghyuck’s assurance. Your brows are raised but you choose to remain silent, happy that someone else is protecting you for once. Donghyuck’s shoulders are squared and his eyes are full of unapologetic pride. He slides a hand to grab yours from under the table, offering you silent assurance.
“Glad to know that Y/N’s your priority. Let’s make sure to keep her happy.” Your father says in a rather diplomatic manner. He casts your mother a side glance and she nods along, keeping silent. Under the concealment of the table, you squeeze Donghyuck’s hands in appreciation, all while maintaining a casual expression in front of your parents.
Your dissertation was ready to be submitted earlier than scheduled but you didn’t want to tell your parents yet. Instead, you wanted to initiate a night out with your friends.
Or at least you were trying to. Yizhou was out of the country again and Sungchan was dealing with business outside of Seoul. Your clothes had been picked out. Your preferred club already in mind. All you needed was friends to go with. You scrolled through your contacts and realised the only other person you were comfortable calling up was your fiancé.
After contemplating your options, you caved in and called Donghyuck.
“Are you busy tonight?” You asked him, keeping your voice light. After all, it was a random weekday. He is a busy business man with plans stacked in his calendar.
“Not particularly. What’s up?” Not the answer you were hoping for. You had no choice but to bite the bullet and ask him out. “I was wondering if you’d go out with me tonight. I have good news and I want to celebrate.”
“Celebrate? Where?”
“The clubs.” You coughed into the phone. Donghyuck makes a sound of disbelief. You squeeze your eyes shut and plead with him, pulling out a desperate move. “Are you in or are you not?”
Donghyuck giggles and you know you have him onboard. Even when you were kids, your pleadings were persuasive enough for Donghyuck to give into you. “Should I meet you and your friends there?” He asks.
“Actually, none of my friends can make it tonight.” Your voice pitches to a loud tone as you try to play it off. “I want to go out though, so I called you.”
“Just a crazy idea that I’m throwing out here,” Donghyuck slowly says, already thinking about dragging his friends out of the comfort of their homes. “What if I invited my friends? You have never met them properly and this seems like a good time to introduce you.”
You think back to all the times you’ve had the opportunity to be in the same room as Donghyuck’s friends. Not once have they ever treated you in a friendly manner outside of the forced pleasantries that were expected of them. You can’t help but grimace. “No offence Hyuck but I think they hate me.”
“What! No!” Donghyuck says unconvincingly. You did not need to know that you had once been a topic of argument within his friend group. He rubs his temple, thinking of a solution. “Okay, Mark will be there and he is a great social lubricant.”
“Uh-huh.”
He senses the distrust in your voice and considers his options. “You trust me?”
“Yes.”
“Then trust me on this. I think it will go well or at least improve the coldness between you guys.”
“And whose fault is that?” You ask half jokingly.
“Mine. Sorry,” he replies in a small voice.
Your wedding was inching closer and meeting his friends would be an unavoidable experience in the long run. “That’s okay. Go ahead and invite them. I’ll give them a chance as long as they’re willing to do the same.”
Donghyuck grins, already cooking up ways to convince his friends for a night out. “I’ll see you soon.”
After pleading with Mark to help him be the voice of reason, Donghyuck manages to get all of his friends to agree to meet up. Renjun even offers to contact his close friend to get a couch reserved in a popular club. He instructs one of the family drivers to fetch you and you’re the last one to arrive. Donghyuck waves you over as he stands in a circle of his own, surrounded by familiar faces. From afar, they look rather intimidating and you have half the mind to turn around and run off but you steel your nerves, forcing yourself to get the meeting over and done with.
“Hi guys.” You offer them a small wave. You’re awkwardly standing alone and fortunately, Donghyuck slides up to you to wrap an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side. The tension in your body slightly ebbs away. Jaemin gives you two a long stare and smiles wickedly wide. It’s slightly off-putting but you offer him a friendly smile despite your apprehension.
Mark clears his throat as he takes a step towards you. “Great to finally meet you.” Mark sticks a hand out and you firmly accept it.
A rather fashionable fellow who you recognised as Renjun comes up to you guys. He flashes you a charming smile. “Our table’s ready so let’s move inside and we can have a proper chat!”
“Table?”
“Oh, your man here has gone all out for you.” The rest of the group murmured in agreement which led you to look at Donghyuck for help. He merely shrugs, choosing to maintain indifference.
Renjun decides to pull you out of Donghyuck’s hold, guiding you to the very front of the group. “Just enjoy it. You should take his card and go crazy,” he leans in conspiratorially as he loops your arms together.
Behind you, Jeno snorts, making his presence known. You both exchange friendly smiles. “Hope you enjoy your time tonight, Y/N.”
Your group breeze through security with a flash of a smile from Renjun. It makes you wonder how well-known Donghyuck’s friends are. You have heard of the notorious wait list for this particular club which was bad enough to fizzle out your interest in coming down.
You are led to a table beside the dj booth. The expanse of the couch is much larger than expected. It could probably hold double the amount of people present at the moment. You stand by the sidelines. “Uh, are we expecting people?”
Everyone turns to look at Donghyuck who’s sporting a sheepish expression. “It was either this or we would have to stand at the tables. I’m not making you stand for the entire night.”
Your jaw dropped. Chenle hollers from where he’s seated. “Get a room, you love birds.”
With his eyes still trained on you, Donghyuck flips Chenle off. The table breaks out into snickers but you’re still hung up on the fact that Donghyuck had spent an incredible amount of money on you. “Are you mad?” He asks.
“No?” You shake your head. “I just– we could have gone elsewhere? I don’t know, I want to make your money’s worth.”
Donghyuck frowns. “You are worth every dollar I have.”
You blinked in surprise, not having expected Donghyuck to take the conversation to a personal level. You stepped forward to slip your arms around his, gently tugging him closer to you. “We’ll revisit this tomorrow,” you say before planting a chaste kiss to his cheek. “Thank you for being thoughtful.”
Donghyuck can feel his cheeks reddening and he’s glad that the lighting in the club makes it hard to see. You disappear from his side, welcoming the chaos with open arms as you approach the table. Donghyuck watches you as he silently nurses a drink in one hand. His eyes danced around your figure, the confidence radiating off you was magnetic and it felt like a treat to be in your presence. Donghyuck focused on the little things like the way your nose scrunches when the alcohol hits too strongly for your liking or the way your body folds, laughing gleefully at whatever stories his friends tell you. He barely notices the music or his friends sharing wordless looks throughout the night.
Jisung scoots down the couch to be next to Donghyuck, lightly knocking their knees together for his attention. Jisung offers his hyung a small smile before leaning in, “You should ask her to dance.”
“What?”
“You look like Jay waiting on Daisy,” Jisung giggles drunkenly, head thrown back as he leans back into the leather couch. “Just go up to her.” He says encouragingly.
At that moment, you look over your shoulders and lock eyes with Donghyuck, flashing him a shy smile. His heart stutters in his chest as he rushes to his feet to move towards you like a lovesick fool in a trance. Donghyuck downs his drink, setting it down as he passes the table before finally reaching you. You never once looked away from him. Mark’s chatter comes to a halt when he senses Donghyuck’s presence and he makes a silent escape, sensing the shift in the air.
To Donghyuck’s surprise, you beat him at making the first move. “Let’s dance!” You cheered.
You had slipped your hand into his and led him onto the dance floor. Donghyuck naturally stands close to your back but the crowd pushes him into you. While you seemed unaffected by the skin on skin contact with passing strangers, Donghyuck had a frown on his face that seemed to grow deeper whenever a stranger did a double take at you. It was as if you could feel the anger radiating from behind you. You manoeuvred your joint hands to your stomach, forcing Donghyuck to stay pressed against your back.
He barely registers the close contact that’s happening between you two when you stopped walking, seemingly satisfied with the spot you had chosen. You lean your head backwards to smile up at Donghyuck. It’s a little lopsided but still full of energy. He wants to kiss you. The moment is cut short when the music transitions to an upbeat tempo. Your back is facing Donghyuck again as you move to the beat, still holding onto his arm which leaves him no choice but to stay close to you.
The alcohol he’s consumed barely compares to the intoxicating feeling of having you in his arms, bare skin brushing against each other while fully immersed in the moment. It’s not the same feeling as when you two first danced as kids or during your birthday party. There’s an underlying current of tension that’s building between you two, one that’s growing tauter as the wedding day approaches.
Donghyuck leans forward, his mouth inches away from your ear. “You never told me what we’re celebrating tonight for?”
You suddenly spin to face him and Donghyuck tightens his hold on you. “I never told you?” He shakes his head, his lips curling upwards. Donghyuck is absolutely smitten by you. “I finished my dissertation early!”
“Y/N!” Donghyuck cheers as he embraces you. You squeezed him tightly, happy to share your achievement with someone who cared about your wellbeing. “I’m so proud of you.” He presses a chaste kiss to the side of your head. You don’t know if you were meant to hear it but you nuzzle your face in his shirt for a moment longer than necessary, allowing yourself to indulge in Donghyuck’s presence.
When it’s time to end the night, Donghyuck books a ride to your apartment. You’re slumped over his shoulder, a tired smile on your face but you’re still dazzling to Donghyuck. He gently touches your cheek. “Sleep,” he commands.
Your power nap was interrupted by a melodious voice, stirring you awake. You slide your hands into his while muttering farewell to the patient driver. Donghyuck follows from behind, enjoying the way you drag him around, leading him into your apartment. He watches you kick off your shoe on your own, holding onto the wall for support. After watching you fail, he decides to close the distance by kneeling in front of you, sliding the other shoe off your feet.
Your face burns and you dart your eyes away from him. “Thanks, Hyuck.”
You set a second pair of house slippers for him, staring at him expectantly. Donghyuck toes his shoes off at record time and slides into the house slippers. You offer him a satisfied grin and reclasp your hands with his. “Stay the night.”
Donghyuck’s eyes widened. “Sure? I’ll put you to bed.”
This earns a surprised laugh from you. “I don’t need your help!”
He shakes your joint hands, whining petulantly. “Let me win. I just wanted an excuse to take care of you.” You roll your eyes but the smile on your face never fades. Donghyuck knows he has won and he childishly celebrates with a hurrah.
You lightly tug his arm. “Take me to bed then.”
You’re happy that this time, you’re sober enough to be in the moment. You get the chance to admire the attention Donghyuck holds for you. The comforting feeling of seeing Donghyuck in your space helps you relax. He’s kneeling on your bed while he has you sitting cross legged in the middle, gently wiping away the makeup from your face. Every swipe from him is full of utmost care. You have never been gentle with yourself. It makes your heart flutter from such a simple gesture.
“That’s all of it,” Donghyuck says, his tongue sticking out of his mouth in concentration.
“Thanks.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You’re partly entranced by him but another part of you is distracted by your growing affection for him. It’s times like these you wished things were simpler between you two.
He pulls away first, giving you the chance to make your escape however you choose to linger by the entrance of your en suite bathroom. You stared at him expectantly. “Stay the night, yeah? I need to get you something clean to sleep in.”
“I’m sure I’ll make do with whatever.” He gestures to his outfit and you raise a brow, unconvinced.
“Wait here,” you instructed softly as you walked off to your guestroom.
You come back to see Donghyuck seated by the edge of your bed, his body angled towards the door as he anticipates your return. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he beams at the sight of you.
“Here.” You pass him a stack of clean clothes. He eyes it suspiciously, accepting it with a pout playing on his lips.
“This doesn’t belong to an ex boyfriend right?”
“No.” You snorted. “It belonged to Sungchan,” you offhandedly answered.
The look of surprise on Donghyuck’s face was priceless. His jaw tensed, torn between anger and shock while his eyes were openly showcasing his stirring emotions.
You laugh in his face. It was too good of an opportunity to tease him. “I’m kidding! Oh my god!” The stony expression on his face has yet to crack so you scoop his hand into yours, offering him assurance. “I swear on our lives, the shirt belongs to my dad. As for the pants, they were too big for me and I was too lazy to return them.”
Donghyuck squeezes your joint hands and the prior anger melts away. “Okay,” he mutters before bringing your hand to his mouth, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. His lips graze your skin and your body tingles from the heat. “Thank you.”
You gently pull your hand out of his hold, eager to put some space between you two. You press the clothes into his chest and spin on your heels, making a swift escape to the bathroom.
After an unnecessarily long time in the shower, you decided to bite the bullet and face Donghyuck. You thought you had steeled yourself enough but the sight of Donghyuck standing in the middle of your room has you jumping in surprise.
“Donghyuck!” You yelled, a hand pressed to your chest.
He looked equally surprised. “I’m sorry, I was just coming in to set a glass of water and painkillers.”
Your shoulders dropped and your eyes moved behind him, catching sight of your nightstand. True enough, Donghyuck had brought in a bottle of medicine and your favourite mug.
Donghyuck purses his lips, his eyes moving towards the door. “I’ll be in your guestroom if you need anything.”
“I’m fine.”
“You sure? If you need someone to hold your hair back while you’re bent over the toilet, just wake me up.” He teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You rolled your eyes, stepping forward. “Get out,” you demanded but the ghost of your smile still remained.
Donghyuck holds his hands up in surrender. “Goodnight Y/N.”
You stayed rooted in your spot, offering him a small wave. “Goodnight Donghyuck.”
Silence enveloped your room and you didn’t mind it, knowing that Donghyuck was rooms away from you. You gingerly sat down by your bedside, gripping your mug as you tried to make sense of your heart. You were without a doubt, falling in love with Donghyuck all over again and you had no intention of ever stopping.
The morning of your wedding was a blur. You were first introduced to the beauty and styling team that you hired for the wedding. The day progresses quickly and the bridal room is open to visitors who file in and out like a constant stream, eager to bless you with their well wishes. A lot of small talk and hugs occurred and you could barely catch up.
Sungchan drops by to greet both you and Yizhou, the three of you enjoying a round of champagne and taking many pictures. Sungchan gives you a tight hug as he leaves.
Moments before you’re scheduled to walk down the aisle, you’re finally left alone. The silence that surrounds you weighs on your shoulders. Your eyes subconsciously drift to your ring finger, knowing that this is the last time it’ll be empty for the rest of your life. A mix of emotions cloud your mind. You reach for your bouquet when a loud knock resonates through the door, signaling that your time has arrived.
You loop your arms around your father’s as you walk to the back of the line. “Y/N,” your father softly muttered. He waits for you to look at him and you note the tears brimming around the corner of his eyes. “I hope I made the right choice. I hope he makes you happy.”
You clutch the bouquet of flowers closer to your chest. It was a bundle of sunflowers, hydrangeas and primroses, a mix comprising both of your favourite flowers. “You did.” You assured your father, confident of your answer.
The wedding march had begun and you quickly gave your father a peck on the cheek right before your veil was lifted over your face. Your cousin walks out first, joined by Jaemin. You watched from the end of the line as Yizhou accepted the arm Mark offered her. They reach the altar and finally, it was your turn to walk down the aisle.
Upon your first step, the piano notes shift into a different melody. Your eyes land on Donghyuck who has a small smile on his face. It comes as a genuine surprise to you once you register the melody of the song. Your heart thuds against your chest and you’re torn between breaking down into tears or leaping for joy. It is evident that Donghyuck hadn’t forgotten dancing with you at your birthday party all those years ago, the same song playing as you walk down the aisle towards him.
It’s a big cliche but you never stopped looking at Donghyuck. Not now, not when he’s openly staring back at you. There’s a matching secret grin that only you two understand. You can’t look away, you simply refuse to. Your father offers your hand to Donghyuck and he accepts it with so much tenderness, his fingers enveloping yours as he guides you to stand in front of him. You’re toe to toe, aligned with each other.
Time seems to move differently when you’re standing in front of Donghyuck, forced to look at him through a veil. There’s an undercurrent of want flowing not just in you, but Donghyuck as well. You try to soothe him by gently brushing your thumb against his palm.
Mark steps forward with the rings and you wet your mouth, eager not to mess up your exchange of vows.
“Do you, Lee Donghyuck, take Y/L/N Y/N as your lawfully wedded wife? To have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part.”
He looks you in the eye, certain as ever. “I do.” The ring slips onto your finger, cool to the touch which leaves goosebumps in its wake. The significance of the ring is setting in.
“And do you, Y/L/N Y/N, take Lee Donghyuck as your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death do you part.”
You blindly reach for Donghyuck’s ring, too eager to complete the ceremony. Mark pushes the cushion into your hand and you pick up the ring. “I do,” you say as you slide the ring over Donghyuck’s ring finger. The ring sits perfectly below his knuckles. You squeeze his fingers tightly.
“By the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Donghyuck tightly squeezes your hands before releasing them. He’s already reaching for your veil when the minister says, “You may kiss the bride.”
The church roused with applause and cheers as your veil was thrown over your head. Donghyuck sneaks his hand to the back of your neck, pressing against it as he leaned forward to capture your lips. Your eyes flutter shut, succumbing to your first kiss with Donghyuck. It’s a hard press to your lips. Nothing too indecent for a sacred occasion but heavier than the shy peck you had expected from him.
You pull away to rest your nose against the slope of his, unable to tame the smile on your face. No coherent thought could come out of your mouth as you gaze into Donghyuck’s eyes.
“Onto forever.” He says it loud enough for you to hear. You nodded and he moved his hand to wrap around your shoulders, pulling you in before you embarked on the mad dash down the aisle. One hand looped around Donghyuck’s neck and the other tightly clutching onto your bouquet, you couldn’t have imagined a better way to leave the church as a newly wedded couple.
It’s date night with your husband.
Three weeks have passed since the wedding and life has adjusted back to normal for everyone else. Meanwhile, you and Donghyuck were still balancing the newly wedded lifestyle. He had gone back to work and you were taking time to unwind from the stressful year that had passed.
Donghyuck had made a reservation for dinner and you had agreed to meet him there. You spend the whole day sitting in your jittery feelings, wildly anticipating seeing him.
Dinner was a lovely affair. You were sitting in a fancy restaurant, situated on the rooftop of an esteemed hotel. Conversation flowed between you two, from anecdotes of Donghyuck’s day at work to recounting the cherished memories of the wedding.
The hostess politely interrupts, carrying a plate of brownies topped with ice cream. “I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation. Here’s a complimentary cake from us. Congratulations and cheers to your future.”
The two of you eyed the plate, surprised to see a message written on it. Congrats to the love birds. You cover your face with your hands and Donghyuck laughs in disbelief. “This is crazy,” you said.
“No one taught us how to maximise our marriage.”
You slowly pulled your hands away and discovered that Donghyuck had been recording you the whole time. Shit. “Hyuck!”
“What?” He asks, chuckling from behind his phone.
You rolled your eyes. “Oh my god. Delete that.”
“Why? You look gorgeous.”
You frown at him but it fails to make an impact on Donghyuck. He takes one last picture of you before putting his phone away. “I wanted pictures to remember this by.” Donghyuck confesses as he takes a sip of his drink.
Your features softened and you were no longer annoyed by him. Taking a clean spoon, you cut into the brownie, scooping a big portion and lifting it to Donghyuck’s face. “Here.” You offered.
He looks from the spoon to your face, face heating up from the attention you were giving him. Donghyuck cranes his neck forward and accepts the offer, taking a bite from the spoon.
“Is it good?” You asked. Donghyuck hopes he doesn’t have any bit of chocolate smudge on his lips as he nodded wordlessly.
He hadn’t expected you to use the same spoon, licking at the remnants of chocolate before diving into the brownie to get a taste for yourself. Donghyuck grows slightly dazed, knowing how unaffected you are by the intimacy. His mouth grows dry at the thought of your lips. It has been three weeks without your kiss after all. He knows he’ll have to keep waiting for a chance to kiss you again.
You lightly nudge him out of his trance, your foot hitting him under the table. Donghyuck looks downward then at your face. You offer him a cheeky smile and he’s back with you, pushing aside any distractions.
It’s a beautiful night and the sky is clear enough to gaze at. You suggest going for a drive near the Han River. It was a refreshing experience for you. You and Donghyuck never had the chance to hang out casually, having missed each other throughout your adolescent years and your early twenties. Now, as husband and wife, you two have the chance to bask in the silence together.
You shiver slightly as the wind blows, your hair falling over your face. A jacket is suddenly draped over your shoulders and you gripped the fabric tightly. “Are you sure?”
“I have to take care of my wife.” You can’t deny that his intentions made you feel warm all over. You accepted his offer without much fight and slid your hands into his jacket, engulfed by Donghyuck’s lingering warmth. You could even smell the remnants of his cologne when you lean closer into the jacket.
Another lapse of comfortable silence passes when you felt a drop of water on the top of your head. You turn to Donghyuck with a frown. “Did you feel that?”
He sticks his hand out and you watch expectantly. Donghyuck jumps in surprise when the droplets of rain land on his palm. He laughs. “Oh shit, we have to go.”
In a matter of minutes, the sky is covered with thick clouds and the rain begins to fall steadily. The car park is a reasonable distance. All around, the trees begin swaying as you two rush to the car. You stopped in your tracks and Donghyuck slowed down to yell at you. “Hurry!”
You fumble with his jacket and create a makeshift cover, running up to him. “Get under.”
He joins you, one arm reaching for the sleeves of his jacket and the other wrapping around your shoulder to pull you close to him. The rain pours down on you two and you couldn’t help but laugh at your current predicament. Your glee was contagious and Donghyuck laughed along, melting into the sound of the downpour.
He ushered you into the passenger seat of his car before running over to the driver's side, his hair completely drenched. Donghyuck starts the engine and you blast the heater, adjusting the angle to blow towards Donghyuck.
“Aren’t you cold?” Even when his teeth are chattering and he’s visibly shaking, Donghyuck still tries to look after you. You rolled your eyes fondly. “You sacrificed your jacket for me. Just defrost a little, okay?”
You don’t miss the smile that’s tugged at the corner of his lips as he snuggles into the driver's seat, giving up his fight. When he deems himself warm enough, he begins the drive to your apartment. You keep your gaze on his profile, staring unabashedly. Donghyuck stares back several times. He can’t quite tame the feelings blossoming in his chest. He clenches the steering wheel, eager to make it back to your apartment.
Your intertwined hands keep each other warm. He follows you through your apartment and as always, he’s happy to have you pull him in whatever direction. You bring him into your room and grab two fresh sets of towels.
“Go in here. I’ll use the spare shower.” You hold the stacked towels and Donghyuck apprehensively glances at it, reluctant to separate from you. His eyes rove back at you and his eyes widen into a pleading look. You frowned. “What is it?”
“I want to stay with you.” Donghyuck shamelessly answered.
Your cheeks heat up and you push the towel to his chest, causing him to stumble backwards. “Don’t be stupid. We are both drenched and will fall sick. It is faster this way.”
His pout is still present but he finally accepts the fresh towel, your hands freed from his. The cold immediately replaces his warmth. “Go. I’ll need to find something you can fit in while waiting for your clothes to dry.” You tell him, keeping yourself away from the thoughts running through your head.
Donghyuck looks at you longingly for one last time before conceding to your instructions. You let out the breath you were holding when you heard the lock on the bathroom door, slouching against the wall to calm your nerves. After laying out the spare clothes you had stolen from your fathers closet, you quickly grabbed your own clothes and rushed to the spare shower.
Alone, surrounded by the tiled walls of your shower, you’re given some reprieve from your racing feelings. You didn’t mean to take a long shower but the stream of hot water was what you needed to unwind. By the time you returned to your room with a towel wrapped around your head, donning an oversized shirt and sweatpants, Donghyuck was already waiting for you on the edge of your bed.
You blinked at the sight. His hair was fluffy after a shower and your fathers shirt sits loosely over his frame, making Donghyuck look cuter than usual. Donghyuck has a sheepish look on his face as he obediently waits for your return.
“Come here,” you say as you walk over to your dressing table. You’re pulling out your hair dryer when Donghyuck stands beside you. You grinned at him. “Sit. I’ll dry your hair.”
Again, Donghyuck easily follows your direction as he settles down in front of the vanity. You work quietly as you dry his hair, brushing it with utmost care reminding you of your younger days, when he would let you style his hair. You gently apply some hair oil to your hands and run it through his soft strands. Standing close to him, you can smell the fragrant scent of your shampoo lingering on his hair. You inhale deeply.
Donghyuck breaks the silence as he murmurs softly, “Your turn.”
The tranquility that sits between you and him is too enjoyable to ruin so you let him have his way, inwardly pleased to have Donghyuck take care of you. He removes the towel from your head and begins working on your hair. Donghyuck is practically a magician. He expertly massages your head as he rubs your hair products into your hair. You’re content with the silence between you two as he brushes your hair before drying it.
When he’s done, Donghyuck tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, leaning over your shoulder to whisper in your ear. “You’re stunning.”
You meet his eyes through the mirror and you immediately grow shy, looking away and getting up from your seat. “Thanks,” you mutter as you busy yourself with tidying up the vanity.
Thankfully, Donghyuck gives you some space as he steps back to watch you. You can feel his eyes on you even with your back turned to him. It makes your heart skip a beat.
Once you’ve kept all of your things, you are forced to face Donghyuck again. You slowly turn on your heels to face him and he is already looking at you. Donghyuck’s stare has been fixed on you the whole time and you grow nervous under his stare, the weight of it starting to unnerve you.
Donghyuck’s gaze grows deeper as he straightens his posture, looking you dead in the eye. His resolve has hardened. It was a foreboding moment in which you were powerless to stop but you still tried. “Y/N, I love–”
Your eyes widened in fear. “Stop. Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it.” You point at him accusingly.
His gaze falls to the distance between you two, unable to fathom how he ended up in this position when moments ago, you were inseparable. “Why? Are you scared?”
You part your mouth in disbelief. He wasn’t mocking you. Donghyuck was genuinely trying to get through you. The pressure of it all has you cracking under it. “Because I don’t know what’s going on between us anymore! You treat me with so much tenderness and affection, crossing the boundaries we have set, ever so often. My rationality flies out the window when I’m with you. I have a reason to be scared because the last time you treated me this way, you rejected me!” You exploded.
Donghyuck can see the way you’re shaking, a similar visual to the night of his birthday party. Even as the tears begin to gather in your eyes, he forces himself to stay calm for your sake. “I was a fool, Y/N. I am sorry but I get it now.”
“Are you sure you’re not just caught up in the moment?” You ask as your gaze drops to the ground. Donghyuck frowns deeply. You have become so small in the short span of your conversation. It hurts him to see you this way.
“God, no. Never.” He pleads as he steps into your space, one hand gently cupping your head, lifting your chin upwards to look you in the eye. “I love you. I have loved you forever ago and I’ll love you forevermore.”
Your vision blurs completely. “I love you,” you whispered into the hushed silence. Donghyuck slowly leans forward to bring your foreheads together. You blink away at the stray tears that pooled in your eyes. “I love you, Lee Donghyuck,” you repeated.
He nodded and closed his eyes, uncaring when your tears fell on his face. “I love you,” Donghyuck whispers as he holds you close, finally catching you as you fall apart in his palms.
Between job hunting and apartment hunting, your honeymoon couldn’t have been a better excuse to leave the world behind.
The sun shimmers in the sky. You’re leaning against cobbled streets that have been around longer than your existence, when Donghyuck comes over jogging to you. You chided lightly. “Slow down. I don’t want you to fall.”
Donghyuck almost crashes into the wall but he plays it off with a coy smile. “I love falling for you.”
You scrunched your nose, cringing at his joke. “You’re terrible.”
“Too bad. You’re married to me for life.” Donghyuck teases.
“Indeed, I am.” Your eyes flit to the ring on his finger and you smiled softly. “Hey, what took you so long?”
Donghyuck perked up. “I asked the receptionist for some help. He told me a few nights ago to visit a particular bakery. Thought we could venture out before lunchtime.”
You wrapped your arm around his, interlocking your fingers together. “Sounds like a plan. Lead the way.”
Savoury treats, sweet drinks and good company is all you needed and Donghyuck eagerly met your needs. The moonlight reflects on the cobbled stones of ground, a soft glow leading the way around the city. His fingers shyly brush yours after every few steps. It’s only been two months since the confession and Donghyuck has demonstrated impeccable patience with you. You knew this trip was a way to finally start returning the favour.
You timed it correctly, firmly pulling his fingers into your hold and intertwining it together. You can feel the surprise jolting through Donghyuck which elicits a giggle from you.
“What’s going on?” He asks, aiming for a relaxed tone but ultimately, you can hear his underlying worry.
“I felt like holding hands with my husband.” You lift your gaze to smile at him, “I know you like this.”
Just as you had expected, Donghyuck starts blushing. His composure doesn’t break much to his credit. He remains collected and squeezes your hand tightly. “I do. I do like this and I like you.”
“Like?” You asked, voice lilt in an attempt to push Donghyuck’s buttons.
You hear Donghyuck muttering under his breath and you laugh gleefully, knowing he has fallen straight into your trap. It’s too easy to tease Donghyuck. It’s a skill that never faded away even after all those years apart.
“I’m the luckiest girl alive. My husband likes me.” You said loudly. Some passersby give you a quizzical look as Donghyuck’s face burns with mild embarrassment.
“I don’t like you.” His face is red but his eyes are filled with determination. You’ve seen this version of Donghyuck many times under various circumstances. He’s standing his ground. Donghyuck looks at you, maintaining a steady grip on your hand.
“Hm?”
“I love you.” He declares.
You slowly reach out to gently cup his cheeks, caressing it ever so softly. Hearing him say it still makes your world spin round, giddy with joy and excitement. Standing on your toes, you inch your head upwards to give him a peck on the lip.
Donghyuck squeaks out of surprise and the kiss ends as quickly as it happens. His eyes are rounded, seemingly frozen and fixed on you. You smiled sheepishly as pink dust the apples of your cheeks. “I love you,” you said.
Donghyuck blinks and suddenly you’re being pulled into his body, stumbling over your feet as you land on his chest. You exclaimed softly and he wrapped his slender arms around your waist, grounding you.
“You can’t just do that.” His eyes are roving across your face. It’s clear that his restraint has stretched thinly. You pulled your lips into a smirk as you confidently met his gaze. “What are you going to do about it?”
Your eyes fall shut as Donghyuck presses his lips against yours, this time with more pressure than your attempt. He takes his time with you, kissing your breath away, bathed underneath the moonlight. Your fingers find purchase at the back of his neck and Donghyuck groans.
The kiss breaks and you’re smiling wildly at him. “I’m yours, Hyuck. I’m not going anywhere.”
You trail your other hand up his chest, pressing it flat against his shirt to feel his heartbeat. You look at him in awe and he leans down to rub his nose against your cheekbone. Donghyuck utters, “And I’m yours. Forever and always.”
SYNOPSIS: begging you to marry him, haechan promised you the moon, the stars hanging in the sky, and a few hundred million other things. but he never promised you the most important thing — the sun. and after all, that's all you wanted.
or, alternatively ── haechan has a plan of getting his grandmother's inheritance by marrying you, promising you that everything that was about to become his would also become yours. a lavish lifestyle, the liberty of being with other people — but you only wanted him. so what happens when haechan's plan backfires, leaving you both drowning in a sea of uncertainties?
PAIRING: husband!haechan x wife!reader
GENRE: fake marriage!au, marriage of convenience!au, f2l!au, angst, mutual pining, slowburn, smut, cheating!au
CONTAINS: fluff, angst, smut, slowburn, mutual pining, a lot of descriptive scenes (im so sorry). haechan is emotionally constipated, it takes him a billion years to realise some things. haechan is not the best husband, emotional neglect, emotional and physical avoidance. use of alcohol, cheating (mentions of, not actual scenes), smut (only between haechan and reader), oral (female receiving), unprotected sex, miscommunication, misunderstandings, rich!haechan, mentions of generational wealth and fraud, riize's sungchan (im sorry pookster), reader has a lot of insecurities and regrets.
NOW PLAYING: who is it by michael jackson
SERIES MASTERLIST: HERE!
Your high heels click on the busy pavement as you make your way through the crowd. The underground ride was hell, surrounded by tired office workers and sweaty tourists, and you just hope that the good odds were on your side and your expensive perfume was still clinging onto your skin and clothes.
When Donghyuck sent you a text earlier in the morning, asking for an urgent meetup at your favourite dinner spot in town — a very busy spot uptown that is, a very busy spot that is very difficult to get into last minute, you knew that it was a serious matter. It was always a bit difficult to get in touch with him, or get a hold of him. He was busy with work, busy with dates, busy with friends, but you knew he always had the softest spot for you, and vice versa. And how could you not, after knowing each other since elementary school? He always found the most random times to be with you — be it on a random Saturday, coming over to your place to watch High School Musical for the nth time, or on a monday at noon taking you out to have lunch together during your lunch break. Or on a thursday for a friendly dinner. Like tonight.
You know how this is going to go. You’ll take your seats, get your orders taken, eat, chit chat about whatever’s too heavy on his mind for him to keep only to himself. “I’m a man of many secrets,” he once told you, “But somehow you know about ninety-five percent of them,” you can recall the genuine smile he showed you that night a few years ago.
“Hyuck!” You spot him playing nervously with the hem of his jacket, “I’m sorry I’m late, had to go home to change,” you give him a hug, and he keeps you close a few seconds more than he usually does.
“You smell nice,” he pats your back as he reaches for the restaurant door, “Let’s go inside, I’m starving,”
The atmosphere inside the restaurant brings you a sense of familiarity. The red and brown decor, the dim lightning and the candles around the tables, the faint melody played in a corner by the familiar pianist who also occasionally hums the tune, his fingers touching the keys in a gentle manner. It is so familiar to you, this is your favourite restaurant after all.
“Hate these candles,” Donghyuck grumbles as he opens the menu, setting his eyes on the wine menu. You know he always gets the same three things on rotation, and he always tries to steal food off your plate because your food choices are always the best.
“So why do we always come back?” You ask him with a smile, handing your menu back to the waiter who takes off with your orders.
“I like that guy,” he points to the pianist in the far corner of the restaurant, “He always plays some Tony Bennett tune,”
“And you like the wine,” you retort, watching as he nervously takes a sip from his glass.
“And I like the wine,” he smiles at you, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes, which is odd — because he always lets himself go when he is around you. You know his true colours, no need to hide himself from you.
And yet you wait. You don’t ask him what’s wrong, you don’t ask him what was so urgent to actually meet you for a second time during the week, remembering very well how he took you out for ice cream after work a few days ago. You suppose it’s all about timing, and he’ll know when it’s time to tell you what’s bothering him.
For the duration of the dinner, you see him fidgeting with his fork and knife, looking at you with a glimmer in his eyes yet looking back down to his dorado as soon as you make eye contact with him. He tries to open his mouth a few times to speak, yet he closes it as soon as he notices your head perking up waiting for him to start talking.
You think you need to take matters into your own hands and force the words out of his mouth until you see him eyeing your brisket.
“Don’t even think about it,” you utter while cutting into the meat on your plate.
“Oh, please,” he cries, setting his knife down, “Just a tiny taste,” he pleads.
“I didn’t ask for a tiny taste of your dorado,” you shrug, chewing on the tiny piece of brisket on your fork.
“I would have given it to you,” he whines, pointing at you accusingly.
You look at him unimpressed, yet still intrigued. He’s not being annoying about anything tonight, which is very suspicious to you. So instead of trying to get inside his head — which he’ll probably let you do later anyway, you try to make small talk, to appease the tension just a bit. “So, how was that meeting yester-”
“Will you marry me?” He says — no, asks, but in such a gentle whisper that you think your ears are deceiving you. You stop mid-chew to look at him, as if the active action of chewing would ever impair your hearing. If you heard him right, you think it’s a devious, sick joke on his behalf.
“What did you just say?” You ask incredulously, spitting the piece of meat you had been chewing on, in your napkin.
“I said,” he played with the corner of his napkin, that was now sitting on top of the table instead of his lap, “will you marry me?”
“Are you insane?” You bite back, looking at how his energy deflates even more. “Did you fall today? Did you hit your head like that one time in tenth grade?” Your questions keep on flooding the atmosphere between the two of you, and even if your voice is low in volume, he hears you perfectly.
“Listen,” he starts, and you watch as he stops himself from continuing as the waiter comes to retrieve the plates from your table. He holds a finger up in the air, silently telling you to wait, and he asks for another bottle of wine. “I know this is sudden,” he stops when you scoff, setting back into your chair, waiting for him to go on, “But this is an opportunity of a lifetime, for both of us,” he says confidently.
“How so?” He’s impressed by your apathetic tone, he thought you’d be at least a bit more enthusiastic. He’s played all the possible scenarios in his head for the past few weeks, yet these last few days have been the worst. He hasn’t slept much, hasn’t eaten much, hasn’t been able to pay attention to his regular activities and hobbies that much either. The only things on his mind were you, and as disturbing as it may sound, his grandmother.
“I would get to settle down” he points to himself before looking at your annoyed and endearing figure sitting across him at the table, “And you will have the most perfect wedding. Not to mention the fact that you can have all the money you ever dreamed of. Imagine living that lavish lifestyle, buying yourself everything you have to restrain yourself from right now. Wouldn’t that be nice?” He smiles at you like a little devil who’s ready to whisper into your ear all the advantages of his daylight delusions.
“What are you even talking about?” You are truly in disbelief, looking at him being so calm so suddenly, “How would that even be possible?”
Suddenly you are well aware of the reason of his fidgeting, and why he stayed silent for the whole night. He didn’t know how to open his mouth and tell you a bunch of crap without you throwing your plate at his head.
He shushes you, and you scoff at his stupid attempt of trying to make you come to reason. “Grandma Lee’s inheritance,” he explains calmly, playing with the table cloth.
Your eyes are the size of saucers while looking at him feigning fake innocence. You’re sure this can be categorised as fraud in so many states and countries. The worst way this could go would be this idiot turning you in for attempted fraud and him leaving with all the inheritance he pretends he’s entitled to.
When you say nothing, just staring at him like he’s grown a second and then a third head, he sighs exasperated, throwing his head back in a sign of annoyance.
“Y/n, you have to hear me out,” Donghyuck pleads, bringing his hands over his face out of frustration. Your eyes fall on his weird and crooked pinky, reminding you of his funny and equally weird childhood story about what had happened for it to become so crooked. So fresh in your mind, you already know it by heart.
“But wouldn’t it be considered — I don’t know…” you make a pause, biting on your nails, “Fraud?”
His eyebrows furrow and then a second later his features relax, yet still being able to hold an unimpressed look in his gaze. He glares at you judgementally, as if asking you if you're stupid. You have the same expression, your gaze holding his, silently asking him who, between the two of you, was the real idiot in this context. Is he stupid for proposing such a plan, or are you the idiot who can’t see anything but the faulty side of his master plan? You try to figure out to what extent it can be considered fraud, promising yourself you’d be looking into this matter later.
“How would this be fraud?” He whines, a few heads turning around to look at the two of you. Certainly, people's ears perked up at the mention of the word fraud, and perhaps Donghyuck’s loud whining had something to do with it too.
You shush him, “How would it not be considered as such?” You speak through gritted teeth, trying to convey the message to keep his voice down, for his own good.
You two are having dinner in a nice, uptown restaurant, and you really wish you didn’t have this conversation right here. You were a fool for believing Lee Donghyuck had anything else to say to you except for a stupid idea he had been letting marinate in his pretty head.
“It wouldn’t be,” he insists, “Because anywhere we go we can pass as a loving couple,” he states as matter-of-factly. “Remember that time we scammed the baristas downtown during last year’s Valentine’s Day?”
When you say nothing, only bringing your elbows to rest on the table, he goes on. “Listen, I know for a fact that this is going to be a success. I’ve made plans and took into account all possibilities, and I am my grandma’s favourite grandchild. This is going to work out, trust me” he explains with determination, and you almost believe his words.
Except, you still have a working left brain.
“Again,” you sigh, “How is this not a criminal act in your books?” You try to make him come to reason, but he doesn’t want to hear any of it, waving his hands around in an exasperated gesture, “And how do you even know you’re grandma Lee’s favorite? Out of ten grandchildren?”
“I may have found her will,” he answers immediately, but it comes out more like a question holding a billion uncertainties. Your puzzled expression makes him continue, “When I visited her last year for her birthday, she made me fish for those papers in her home safe. The search for it was very bizarre, like treasure hunting or something, which you’ll realise in a second, it’s very ironic,” he takes a sip of his wine, trying his best to be as serious as possible in order to make you understand how serious he is about this. “She made me look for it in her mansion, giving me easter eggs and hints about where in the house it could be. And when I found it,” his silence lingers for a while, trying to find the best way to tell you the whole story, “This may sound very bizarre, I know, but she even had a riddle for her safe code. I solved it and there was her will, looking right at me. We looked over it together, and she made sure to divide all her assets equally between all her children and grandchildren, except the few hundred million dollars she has to her name.”
You blink once. You blink twice. You double blink for the third time and he scoffs, but quickly recomposes himself, remembering the purpose of telling this whole story, “Y/n, I’m being so serious right now, you have to believe me,” he stops briefly, his fingers drumming on the table following a rhythm only he knows, “In that testament I was the sole heir to her bank account, with that one exception,”
“You need to get married,” you remark.
“I need to get married,” he confirms, laying his hands flat on the expensive cotton tablecloth nicely adorning your dinner table for two.
Your eyes fall on his crooked pinky once again, your gaze sliding to the finger next to it. The ring finger. You think it could be nice to have a gold band to embellish his beautiful and slender finger. Donghyuck seems to pick up what's going on in your mind, and even if you needed a bit more convincing, he knows you're going to agree to his plan.
And surely, you think, with a few hundred million dollars in your bank accounts, and a man as beautiful as Donghyuck to call your husband, there's nothing that could ever go wrong. Right?
And, before agreeing to his stupid plan, you sceptically make him paint the picture for you.
“We tell people we’ve been dating for a bit, because we realised we are very much in love,” he explains nonchalantly as he stabs his lava cake with his tiny dessert fork.
“I genuinely think you’re deranged. You lost the plot to your own scenario,” he looks at you all worried, a smudge of chocolate in the left corner of his mouth. His stupid big brown eyes looking into your raging ones, not understanding the accusations you’re bringing him. “How would you explain this to people? To the boys?” You set your tiramisu aside, knowing damn well he’ll make an attempt to slide the tiny dessert plate across the table and devour the sweet treat. He scoffs once again, as if you’re the one being the ridiculous one here, but he stops himself from letting any word out, letting you continue rambling on about your concerns. “Hyuck,” you start, setting your hands flat on the table, just like he did before, “I think you’re forgetting something. People know you sleep around,”
“Slept,” he retorts, raising a finger in the air as to accentuate his statement, “Haven’t slept with anyone in a while, couldn’t bring myself to, knowing I’ll soon be a married man,”
When you say nothing for the nth time this evening — out of disbelief this time, he’s sure — he goes on, “I told you I already thought of every single scenario and possibility. We’re childhood friends, it won’t be that hard for people to fall for the story of how we realised we’re made for each other. We tell them we kept it a secret for our own good, we tell them we’re madly in love with each other and that we got engaged. We get married, and I want you to think about this, Y/n, let me paint the picture for you,” he says, raising his hands in front of his figure to make a rectangle in the air, “You get to have the dream ceremony I know you’ve always dreamed of, with a big and beautiful bouquet, and the most expensive and show stopping wedding dress. Your veil will cost more than double my suit and your shoes will have rocks more expensive than my car. We then move in for a bit in my — or your apartment, until grandma Lee passes, which by the way,” he stops to raise a hand in the air, as if to assure you, “Will be pretty soon, judging by the medical report I found in her bedroom a bit back. We then buy a house bigger than Brad and Angelina’s mansion. Think of it, Y/n, we could be the new Brangelina. Wouldn’t that be nice?” He slides your tiramisu across the table and excitedly sticks his forks into it, then looks at you with a glimmer in his gaze.
His plan could have been far worse than this, you think, yet the faint reminder of the fact that the two of your are going to be in a marriage is slightly terrifying to you. You always thought you’d get married to someone you had feelings for, whom you loved, and while certainly you do love Donghyuck in a very confined way, you’re sure that it is within the bounds of a lifetime long friendship, in which the both of you have gotten to know each other almost perfectly.
He sees you getting too much into your own head, and snaps his fingers right in front of your nose, like he’s always done since you were children. “What’s bothering you?” He asks, his tone genuine.
“What about…” you bite your lip, too afraid of hearing something you don’t really want to be hearing, and you’re not sure what kind of answer you’re trying to avoid. “What about dating?” You finally ask, and he waves his hand to dismiss your worries.
“Don’t worry about it,” he goes back to the tiramisu he’s put aside when he saw your concerned scowl, “Unless our families and friends find out about our dates, we’re free to see whoever we please and like,” you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, straightening your posture.
And then you see him, grinning at you like he’s the devil, “So what’d you say?” He stands up slowly from his chair across the table, and just as slowly he reaches for something in the right pocket of his slacks while still grinning.
And before you can actually register what is about to happen, you see him sprinting to reach your side, kneeling down in front of you and opening a stupid, black suede small box that — you think once he opens it to reveal its content to you — holds the Hope Diamond.
“Y/N,” he says your name, and you make a very big effort to tear your gaze away from the ring inside the small box he’s holding, “Will you marry me?”
And with a Tony Bennett tune in the background, with a diamond as big as your fist, and a man as handsome as Donghyuck kneeled in front of you, a man who’s promised you the world just a few minutes back, how could you ever refuse?
“Yes, yes I will”
“You’re what?” Chenle and Mark scream simultaneously, sitting in pure shock on the carpeted floors of Jaemin’s apartment.
You glared at Donghyuck, who was standing next to you, looking all offended by his friends. He grabbed your hand and raised it to his lips, kissing it gently. His fingers interlocked with yours, “I said,” he showed your hand to his friends, “We’re getting married,” his eyes softened while looking at you. Dang it, he’s a very good actor, you thought.
“How- how did this happen?” Mark stutters, his voice cracking. Chenle reaches for your hand to look at your engagement ring, and his eyes bulk out of their orbits.
“What the fuck, Hyuck?” He glared between you and Donghyuck, his friends, and the rock on the ring. “Did you guys see the size of this rock?”
“Yes, whatever, it’s the size of your head,” Donghyuck rolled his eyes, and you don’t have time to giggle at his joke as he pulls you gently by the arm towards the empty loveseat. You sit on it, and he pulls a chair close to your seat.
You look around at his friends. The energy in the room fluctuates and changes based on who you look at, Mark being still in shock, Chenle keeps looking at your hand, Jeno congratulates you, and Jaemin's displaying a huge grin that’s plastered on his face. The different reactions feel overwhelming to you, and you imagine how bad it will be when you break the news to your and Donghyuck’s families if his friends reacted this way.
“I knew it, you guys,” Jaemin claps his hands and shakes his shoulders in excitement, “I knew you guys were together!” He cheers, looking around the room, encouraging the others to join his happiness.
Donghyuck averts his eyes and clears his throat, fidgeting a bit in his seat. “Yeah, we were meant to be,”
“But how long have you guys been together?” Jeno asks with caution, his eyes a bit lost as he lets you know his curiosity and concerns.
“A few months,” you reply, “but we’ve known each other for so long that we feel we’ve been together forever,” you explain, moving your hand. You smile, amused noticing Chenle’s eyes still looking at your hand, straight at your engagement ring.
“It’s been a bit,” Donghyuck says, “Right after Y/n’s birthday party,” he smiled, his hand reaching behind you to pat your back, which made you straighten your posture immediately. The sudden contact, his warm hand burning its print on your back. The nerves and stress of breaking the news of your supposed engagement to the people you care the most for makes a light shimmering coat of sweat veil your skin. You recompose yourself quickly, not expecting the sudden contact.
You look at the people around the room. Except for Chenle, who’s still looking at your hand and then at Mark who’s still shocked by the sudden news, Jaemin is the only one who beams with joy.
“We’re very happy for you,” Jeno brings a hand to his chest, reaching forward in his seat as he tries to get closer to you and your supposed fiancé, “It’s just that it’s very sudden news,”
“Extremely happy,” Mark comments, smiling at you and then looking at his best friend, “It’s weird that we didn’t notice,”
“Talk for yourself,” Jaemin barks back with an upset tone, which makes you burst out laughing, “I’ve been plotting and scheming for a very long time,” he shuts up as soon as Donghyuck glares at him. He smiles back at his friend, and then he winks at you with a knowing smile.
Out of all of Donghyuck’s friends, you felt Jaemin and Chenle to be the closest to you. They were his friends from college, and you met them countless of times during the last few years and for occasional meet ups, but you definitely felt that Chenle and Jaemin were your friends too. Mark was awkward at times, but he always took care of you whenever Donghyuck left the club with some lady hanging off his arm, leaving you behind in the club with his friends. Jeno always lets you win during game nights. While Donghyuck tries everything in his power to cheat at every game and to corrupt Jaemin and Mark to join him in his cheating, sometimes even trying to bribe you to give him a property that he really needed while playing Monopoly, Jeno always lets you win, even helps you sometimes just to see Donghyuck’s cheeks lose all color when he realised he lost the games.
“Y/n?” Donghyuck touches your back once again, the sudden and unexpected physical contact making you jump slightly — once again. You look at him and you realise you blacked out for a bit, lost deep in your own thoughts about the guys. Realising you weren’t paying attention to him, he repeats himself, “Monopoly tonight?”
You looked around the room at the guys sitting around you with hopeful looks, and you agree before your brain can register completely. You would never ever pass on the occasion of beating Donghyuck at games, or at anything in life, especially now that you’re getting married.
You look around yourself, around the street, you look around at the people passing you by on the pavement. The still cold days of march make you zip your jacket up, your cheeks rosy and your nose and ears freezing even if the sun is out and hitting all the buildings around you. You rub your hands together in a pathetic attempt to warm yourself up, trying to calm the terrible feeling you have in your guts.
“Hey,” your head snaps to the side as soon as you hear Renjun’s voice, and you hug him tightly as you take a good look at him. Bucket hat low on his forehead, covering his eyes, you wouldn’t even recognise him if you didn’t know the timbre of his voice. “Are we waiting for the girls here?” He asks looking around, and when you nod he gets closer to where you’re standing on the pavement.
“Are you cold?” You ask, hugging his figure once again and rubbing your hands on his arms, hoping the friction will be enough for him to bear the cold a little bit longer.
He nods, zipping his jacket up to his chin and wrapping his wool scarf around his neck trying to find some comfort. You look at him, still hugging him, and you really wish you could tell him everything that’s on your mind, everything that’s happened in your life in the past few weeks. But for the integrity of your and Donghyuck’s plan you have to keep your lips sealed.
Apart from Donghyuck, who’s your childhood and oldest friend, Renjun is the second closest. You met him in college right before you met Yerim, and you instantly clicked with each other as soon as you complained about the mess in the kitchen at the dorms. You started as fellow complainers, you then met each other in the communal lounge downstairs while studying, and then you kept looking for each other whenever you weren’t too busy being with Donghyuck. He met Donghyuck in your kitchen while the latter was making your ramen, and Renjun complained about the mess.
“So you’re the one who makes the mess?” He was close to bursting a vein, trying his best not to kick the unknown man out of the dorm’s kitchen.
“Oh, hi” like a deer in highlights he turned around, scared by Renjun’s tone, before taking a good look at the guy in front of him, “You must be Renjun,” he cheered, changing hands holding the spatula and extending the newly free hand to Renjun, “Y/n told me everything about you, I think her exact words were ‘to look out for that Renjun’ guy,”
Renjun looked at him, his eyes bulking out of his orbits, “You know Y/n?” He asked incredulous, thinking that you could never be friends with such a messy person such as Donghyuck, “And by the way, she would never say that about me,”
“She’s my bestfriend,” Donghyuck answered before turning his attention back to the ramen pot sitting on the stove. “And don’t worry, the mess was already clinging to these walls way before I came by today,” And in all fairness, Donghyuck is a very clean person, a very clean man. Talk about the advantages of growing up close to a clean freak like yourself. “By the way, I’m Donghyuck, I live in the dorm just around the corner,”
“Oh,” Renjun mumbled, setting his own pots and pans on the second stove, “I’ve heard about you,” Donghyuck’s eyes lit up as soon as he heard the words coming out of Renjun’s mouth, delighted knowing that he’s someone you go around talking to other people about.
And since that moment you three stuck together. Donghyuck’s proximity to your and Renjun’s dorm, and the fact that he actually met the guy while cooking for you in your kitchen, meant he was always with you, joint at the hip, sometimes to Renjun’s dismay, because he thought Donghyuck was one of the most annoying guys he’s met. And then from your second year in college, the three of you moved in together in a shared apartment just outside campus and, although you became a trio, you’ve always been transparent about your friendship with the guys. What you and Donghyuck had was different from your friendship with Renjun, and the two of them hung out without you as well. It’s just your dynamic, and Renjun has always agreed to this, even if Donghyuck was a little jealous and possessive of your friendliness at times. As soon as you showed Renjun a little bit more attention, Donghyuck stole you away for a whole week. But it was always fine, it was never a problem for Renjun, for reasons you’ve never spent too much time worrying about.
You’re pulled out of your own thoughts by the two girls that approach you loudly, and Renjun sighs while shivering in your arms, “Fucking finally,”
“Why didn’t you guys wait inside?” Karina asks after you’re done with hugging everyone, “Couldn’t you guys get a table? Usually it’s pretty empty at this hour in the morning,”
“Wait,” you pull Yerim’s sleeve when she tries to make her way inside the cafeteria, smiling sheepishly as they look at you confused. “I know I invited you here today, but that’s not really where we’re going,” you explain, rubbing your hands together.
“So why are we here?” Karina mumbles confused, looking at the other two.
You point at the bridal boutique just across the street from where the coffee shop is, and their eyes follow the direction you’re pointing at, their heads snapping back to look at you, so harshly that you wonder how on earth they didn’t get whiplash.
“You’re kidding…” Yerim laughs so loudly that a few people’s heads turn around,
“Right?” Renjun’s uncertain tone makes you fidget on the spot.
Averting your gaze, you cross the street to reach the bridal shop, and your friends look at each other, still hoping for you to turn around and tell them you’re joking.
By the time they decide to follow you inside the shop, you’re already drinking from a glass of champagne and discussing about your dream wedding gown.
“You have to be kidding me,” Renjun mumbles as soon as one of the assistants comes over with a tray of champagne flutes.
“How are we here,” Karina downs the whole flute as soon as they take a seat on the expensive white sofas waiting for you to come out wearing whatever dress you discussed with the assistant you wanted.
“I think we skipped a few chapters,” Yerim sighs contemplatively and looks at Renjun who’s visibly shaken. Out of the three of them, Renjun’s the one that looks like he got hit by a bus. He doesn’t even understand why he’s sitting where he’s sitting right now.
“Last time I asked, she was saying she’s not seeing anyone special,” he mutters more to himself, but the two girls hear him nonetheless, “I don’t get it,”
And then you come out from the little room at the end of a narrow corridor, all three of your friends shut their mouths as you show them the best dresses that you’ve picked up while they were deciding if they needed to follow you inside, or if they should just laugh it off and walk to the nearest bar because it was a joke. It was a reality check for all three of them, and while the doubts and shock was still in the back of their minds and ready to resurface at any given moment during your dress fitting, ah’s and oh’s and sniffles filled the room while complimenting you.
“I didn’t even know you were seeing someone,” Karina spills out, having already downed three champagne flutes.
“I really don’t know how to feel about you getting married to a total stranger,” Yerim sniffles, the feeling of betrayal suffocating her.
You sigh, looking at your reflection in the mirror while touching your silky dress, and all your curves and edges, “He’s not really a stranger,” you whisper while looking at their reflection in the big mirror.
Renjun pushes himself forward, eyes as big as the rock on your engagement ring, which you purposefully left at home so as to not receive any questions as soon as you met your friends. He takes a moment to think of all the men in your life, your exes, your situationships. “Oh, dear heavens,” he touches the bridge of his nose as he looks at your reflection in the big mirror and then straight into your eyes, and something in his gaze tells you he’s gotten a faint idea of who it might be.
“What did she say?” Karina nearly screams into Yerim’s ears, the flutes making her lose all sense of volume.
You repeat yourself, “He’s not a stranger, you know him very well,” you look at the three of them, and you can feel Renjun’s eyes burn holes in the beautiful wedding dress you have on. “It’s Hyuck,” you whisper, not sure if they heard you.
Judging by Karina’s head snapping to her right to look at the others’ reactions, and by Yerim’s gasp, you can appreciate that they did indeed hear you.
“Hyuck as in Donghyuck?” Yerim makes sure you didn’t possibly meet a new Donghyuck in the span of a few weeks, “How did this happen?”
“How? That’s your concern?” Renjun pulls her by her arm, turning her to face him, “Your main concern should be when! When did this happen?” He addresses you.
“We’ve known each other for a very long time,” you start, “We were meant to be,” you hope Donghyuck’s bullshit excuses and scenarios reach your friends’ hearts, out of love for you. You know it sounds pathetic, the whole childhood friends to lovers fiasco, but you hope they won’t need more explaining regarding this, considering your and Donghyuck’s dynamics.
And as your biggest nightmare comes to reality, Renjun scoffs. And you recall telling Donghyuck just a few day ago that Renjun is going to be the one who needs the most convincing out of every other friend you two have. “Just stick to the answers I came up with, and he’ll buy it. If there’s anything Renjun cherishes more than his bickering with me, then that’s his friendship with you. He’ll buy it in the end, trust me.” And when you look at him bewildered, because you never thought of accepting such an explanation from him, he sighs and wraps an arm around you, walking you through the whole scenario again, “Tell him we’ve been together for a few months, I told you I love you blah blah blah. Stick to the scenario. Stick to the plan, Y/n” he cupped your face, swiftly kissing your forehead like he always does when you’re sick with worries, since the age of eight.
And so you do, you stick to the plan, to all the lines Donghyuck has instructed you to use, and while you play with your fingers all nervous and with trembling voice, you hope your friends are buying all of whatever bullshit you’re selling them.
“I knew this would happen,” Renjun claps his hands together as he looks at his two other friends sitting beside him on the small sofa, “I knew this would happen as soon as he ditched our study session at the library years ago just to spend time with you, when he found out some idiot didn’t show up to your date and you needed comforting,” this time he looks at you, straight into your soul, and you hope that he won’t be able to pick up whatever bullshit Donghyuck has fed you to convince you to agree to his plan. “You two are idiots”, he retorts.
And yes, you think so too. You couldn’t agree more. You and Donghyuck are idiots indeed, especially you. You, who’s willing to jeopardise decades of friendship just to make him happy, just to feel a bit validated by him. You still don’t want to admit the deeper reason of your agreeing, and you hope you’ll be able to ignore it and bury it deep into the back of your mind.
“But,” he sighs once again, and you’ve only heard Renjun sigh this many times when Donghyuck was insisting on having a bet and the loser would kiss the opponent if he felt like doing it, knowing damn well Donghyuck was going to purposefully bet on something that would turn out to be completely wrong and lose in Renjun’s favour just to kiss him, “I’ll admit that you’re very beautiful wearing that dress,” he points his head at your dress.
“You think so?” You beam and stand on your tippy toes, turning around to look at your own reflection in the huge mirror, using your hand to call one of the assistants over.
All three of your friends agree, and a drunk Karina even starts clapping, cheering you on.
“I can’t imagine the amount of stress you’re under with all the wedding preparations,” Yerim hugged you as soon as you stepped foot out of the boutique.
“I’m not,” you smile bashfully at your friends, “Hyuck suggested we should get a wedding planner,”
“Hyuck suggested,” Renjun imitates you with a mocking tone, already sick of your wedding talk after spending half a day looking for dresses for you, and bridesmaids dresses for your two friends.
“Are you going to act like this forever? I’m not even married to him yet,” you say with an incredulous laugh.
“For as long as you’re married to him,” he feigns fake innocence, and you only smile back, but your smile doesn’t reach your eyes, because you’re not sure how long that’s going to be. You never discussed this with Donghyuck, and Renjun has given you something to stay up all night mulling over.
You really don’t know how long it’s going to last, or what the whole outcome of it will be, but you can only hope for it to last for the longest of times.
Telling your parents about your engagement was easy. They loved Donghyuck, and he’s been around you since childhood, in and out of your house like it was his own. Your mother always kept a spare place at the table because ever since he was a child, he was unpredictable. Your mom took care of him whenever he wanted to sleep over, she cooked for him whatever it was he was craving, packed him his lunchbox whenever he stayed over and the following day was a school day, his own lunchbox that he personally chose when your mom took the two of you to the store, him choosing one with Crayon Shin-chan plastered on its lid, and you decided on a MyMelody one. Your dad never understood why he was hanging around your house so often, and then Donghyuck came on your family trip to the seaside when he was eleven, and he could see the dynamic of your friendship.
So when you broke the news to your parents, they were elated, they loved Donghyuck and couldn’t be happier to have him officially as part of the family in a few months.
Which couldn’t be said about Donghyuck’s parents. They liked you, and they trusted your family enough to allow their child to enter your home, and consequently, to spend all his free time there with you. But there was a line that should have never been crossed, and Donghyuck did when he proposed marriage to you, of all people. Donghyuck comes from a wealthy family, in which generational wealth was at the day’s order. Most, if not all relationships were transactional, but both parties were wealthy, and they both brought wealth into the marriage. Which couldn’t be said about you, because you didn’t grow up rich. You grew up in a normal family, you never lacked anything, but sure enough your parents couldn’t afford to change cars ever so often every time they pleased. And it was a problem for Donghyuck’s family.
“Can’t they oppose to our marriage or something?” You asked Donghyuck after the two of you left his parents’ house, after Donghyuck broke the news to them while holding your ringed hand up for them to see the engagement ring, and consequently had a fight with his mother right in front of you.
Your confidence wasn’t the highest in that moment, let’s just put it this way.
“Don’t really care,” he frowned, taking your hand in his as the other was holding the steering wheel tightly, “The only approval I need is grandma Lee’s,” he mumbled stopping at the red light, “And she loves you,”
The look in his eyes sent shivers down your spine, making you swallow the lump in your throat, and you remember that feeling so well even if it’s been a few months since.
And now, looking at your feet, the point of your shoes slightly visible from under your long silky dress, you hold on tightly to your bouquet made entirely of Casablanca lilies.
Your head tilts a bit from behind the partition keeping you safe from the eyes of all your guests, curious as ever to see you walking down the aisle.
You spot Donghyuck’s family sitting reluctantly on the right side of the church, his side, while looking around themselves with judgement. You’re starting to believe something bad is bound to happen when no one can reach Karina, who’s also one of your bridesmaids, and you’re also starting to regret your decision of agreeing to this plan when you hear people whispering as if you’re not standing a few feet away from them, albeit hidden by a flimsy partition.
“Where’s Karina?” You start to panic, thinking to yourself that this is a sign. This is a sign that this wedding should not happen.You made it clear in the past few months that you want your ceremony and celebratory party to be perfect, especially because Donghyuck’s family decided to attend, and even if you knew they considered you not to be the perfect bride for their son, you could at least show them a perfect ceremony. Which Karina is fumbling really badly right now.
“She said she’s on her way,” Renjun tries to calm you down, straightening the veil on your back so as to not have any creases.
“When did she say that?” You grabbed him by the shoulders, your nails hurting his skin even through the fabric of his suit jacket, “Oh my god, Renjun if you’re lying to me-” you’re interrupted by Yerim grabbing your hands, freeing Renjun from your grasp.
“You have to calm down,” Yerim pleads, shaking you slightly. “You need to relax, you’ll walk down this aisle and you need to be your best self,” she grabbed your cheeks lightly, and she resists the urge of kissing you on the cheek because she doesn’t want to ruin your makeup. You look so beautiful right now, even if you’re panicking out of your mind.
“I’m here! I’m here!” Karina’s heels clatter on the marbled floors of the entrance, adjusting her dress which was already starting to crease as she almost started running towards you, “I’m so sorry,” she looks embarrassed, holding the little bouquet Yerim hands over to her.
You let out a sharp exhale, instructing Renjun to go ahead and start the ceremony. Yerim smiles to you and reaches behind you to grab your veil, and gently lets it lay on your front. You hear the piano playing, immediately recognising the tune being played. You remember the day you were supposed to choose the music for the wedding march, when Donghyuck grabbed you by the arm and pulled you away from the huge shelf of music in front of you.
“I know I said this was going to be your dream wedding,” Donghyuck starts, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand, “but I have a request to make,” when you nod, he continues, “Can I be the one to choose the music?”
His request took you aback, never expecting him to want to be involved in wedding preparations for a marriage that was purely transactional. To him at least.
“Of course,” you had said, nodding and he knew you were being genuine by the look in your eyes, so big and sparkly, a clear sign of your sincerity. “This is your wedding too, Hyuck,” you smiled at him and he felt a lump in his throat as soon as he registered your words.
He smiled back, and went for the exit of the music shop, but you stopped him by grabbing him tightly, “Just don’t pull any kind of Elvis or Hamilton crap in front of your family,” you retorted, serious as ever, to which he smirked.
“Elvis? Costello or Presley?” He joked, and you hoped he was only being annoying like he always is, and not serious. Seeing your sour face, he put his arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his side into a tight embrace, “Oh come on, Y/Nnnie” he whined, and you kicked him as soon as you see pairs of eyes looking at the two of you, “Don’t you want to be part of a little musical act as you walk down the aisle? Like they did in ‘The Office’?” He whispered in your ear, and you can feel the annoying smile in his tone. He kisses your cheek, holding you even tighter, and you can feel shivers down your spine. Before you can react, you feel the arm that was holding you before, loosening its hold on you.
“I’m being serious, Hyuck,” you began, but he started sprinting past you and out of the record store. “Wait!” You screamed, trying to catch him, “I’m serious! I have rocks with your name written on them, and they’re begging to be thrown at your head!”
You heard him giggle as he picked up his pace, trying to escape your loud mouth.
And now, hearing the tune the piano starts playing, you understand what it was that he wanted. You immediately recognise Tony Bennett’s tune playing, and you think Donghyuck bagged his favourite pianist to play at his wedding, the one who works at your favourite restaurant downtown, the grace of his fingers unmistaken.
You hear heels clattering, and you know that Donghyuck is being taken down the aisle by grandma Lee, who vehemently insisted to be the one to walk her favourite grandchild on such a great day. And you’re surprised his mother didn’t bat an eye, but you know that’s for the best.
“Go! Go!” You whisper shout to Yerim to start walking down the aisle, and she holds her bouquet tighter in front of her, taking steps one by one.
When you go closer to where the aisle begins, you quickly look around the church, noticing the familiar faces sitting around, waiting for you to make your entrance before they stand up. You see Mark, Jeno, and Jaemin standing behind Donghyuck, whilst his other friends are sitting in the second row, allowing Hyuck’s family to sit in the first. You catch a quick glimpse of Renjun standing on your side, waiting for Karina and Yerim to join him, yet you feel a knot of uncertainty setting deep into your guts and stomach, and when you see Karina taking a few steps down the aisle, you take a few steps out of instinct and grab her forearm, dragging her back to where you were waiting to make your entrance.
“Y/n?” Karina whispers surprised, eyes the size of saucers, swaying a bit trying to regain balance after you drag her after yourself. “Y/n,” she insists, “What is it, sweetie?”
You grab your veil, yet still with care because you don’t want to damage it in any kind of way, and you bring it behind you head, because you feel the need to talk to Karina face to face, not hiding behind any type of fabric.
You look at the guests behind Karina’s back, or at what you can see of them since Karina is obstructing most of your view.
“I- I don’t think I can do this,” you whisper, skeptical, and Karina thinks she’s never seen your eyes this big in size.
“What?” Karina tilts her head, not understanding where this doubt is coming from.
But she isn’t in your head, she can’t hear your thoughts, and most certainly she doesn’t know on what grounds this wedding is happening. Everything is an illusion, a lie, and you feel the sweat starting to cling to the skin of your neck. As months passed, you really started to believe all of Donghyuck’s delusions, and all the lies, and all the endless conversations and discussions you two had about his masterplan, which unfortunately started to make sense to you as well. It was like the blind leading the blind.
And up to this point, seeing yourself wearing expensive accessories and an even more expensive wedding gown, seeing everyone who’s believed your lies sitting excitedly as they’re waiting for you to make your entrance, hearing the melody of the piano playing one of Donghyuck’s favourite songs of one of his favourite artists, it hits you. And it hits you hard, and you can feel your eyes swelling with tears.
“Y/n, what’s wrong?” Karina insists as she understands that she has a panicked bride on her hands. Not only a panicked bride, but a room full of whispering guests that start to grow more and more curious as they sense something is going on with the bride. And how can we forget the groom, who’s nervously biting his bottom lip as he looks at his grandmother sitting in the first seat, on the first row on his side.
“I can’t do this, Karina. This,” you move your hand around, pointing at the church and all the decorations, including your outfit and hers, “this is all wrong. Very wrong,” you whisper, and Karina’s impressed by your eyes not diminishing in size.
“But why, honey?” She presses, “Donghyuck loves you” she caresses your bare arm, her other hand holding the small bouquet stiffly. “And you love him too,” she’s trying really hard to calm you down, as she notices you trying to swallow what she thinks is a lump in your throat. “You do, don’t you?” She inquires when she notices that you keep looking towards a spot behind her back.
And truthfully, you do. And maybe that’s what’s scary to you. Marrying someone you love so deeply, but who’s only marrying you out of convenience. You love Donghyuck for all his flaws and faults, his annoying side, his bugging, his cold facade, but you also love him because, well, it’s him. You’ve grown up with him by your side, and you realise you made him your ideal type, influenced by his permanent presence and knowing everything about him. And how unfair is it, realising someone is marrying you as part of a fraudulent plan?
You look at Karina, nodding. “I do, I do love him so much,”
“Then what’s the problem?” Karina asks once again, seeing your eyes brimming with tears. When you don’t say anything back, Karina starts crossing her legs, fidgeting where she's standing. She looks behind herself, discreetly, as to sense the vibes filling the room. The few last rows of guests already turned around to look at the two of you, asking themselves if this ceremony is ever going to even start. “Listen, sweetie,” she reaches for you once more, grabbing you by your forearm trying to assure you, “Who cares about this ceremony, anyway?” She waves her hand around trying to convey assurance, although she’s scared shitless of what you might do and how this day could end.
“You don’t have to do this. We can get a cab outside and go away, if that’s what you want. You don’t need to get married today, who cares?”
You gulp, looking behind her to the waves of faces and heads wondering what’s going on. You spot grandma Lee’s head, who’s throwing questioning looks at you and her nephew, although you’re sure she can’t really see you thanks to Karina’s figure standing in front of you. And then you spot him, Donghyuck, tilting his head to look at you, trying to see you even with Karina obstructing his view. And his curious eyes meet your scared ones, and you gulp once more.
“Hyuck,” you whisper, trying to compose yourself as you break eye contacting with him, “Hyuck cares. And I do too,” you conclude, grabbing your veil fast, bringing it to cover your head and face once again. “I am getting married today,”
You use your hand to make Karina spin around, gently pushing her forward.
“Psst, Karina” you whisper shout, using a hand to move the veil a bit from your face so your eyes meet hers once again, “Do not say a word to Yeri and Renjun. Now go! Go!” You usher her to walk in front of you.
You look at your feet once again, and you touch the expensive, silky dress clinging nicely to your waist and bust, and then at the bouquet of Casablanca lilies you’re holding tightly in your hands. And yes, while wearing your expensive Vivienne Westwood dress, and walking down the aisle to The shadow of your smile, you are going to get married to who you think is indeed, the love of your life.
The first few months were milk and honey. Your dynamic didn’t change much, except for the fact that you were sharing a bed permanently. You’ve always shared a bed while growing up and consequently in your adult years too, yet now it’s different. You can look at him in his usual white tee and large pyjama shorts that show the tanned skin of his thighs and it dawns on you that he is your husband. Your husband. And all the times he wears his expensive watch before going to work in the morning, your eyes skip to his fingers, searching for his wedding ring out of instinct. He always wears it. You’ve never seen him taking it off in the past eight months, which can’t be said about you. You took it off every time you were cleaning around or washing the dishes.
Three months after your wedding ceremony, grandma Lee passed, and Donghyuck’s fraudulent plan came to a successful end. Donghyuck bought you a house, took you on holidays around the world, gave you anything you wanted and everything he thought you deserved. And he did all this while wearing the wedding ring. Donghyuck could see the dreamy look in your eyes, but he never looked too much into it, thinking it was all about the hundred million dollars you were now sharing between the two of you. You were still the same Y/n, and he was still the same Donghyuck, except for the fat bank accounts and the sharing of the bed.
To Donghyuck, sharing a bed wasn’t that big of a deal. He’s slept on the same surface as you multiple times before, the only thing that’s changed now was the fact that the two of you were legally bound, and he actually liked being able to say that he was married to you, and that you are his wife. People never expected him to even be in a relationship, and never expected someone as beautiful as you to get married this young, and he found it hilarious.
“I like being married to you,” he says, chewing on a piece of steak he grilled in the back garden.
You seem taken aback by his words, blinking a few times before clearing your throat, “You do?”
“Yes,” he smirks. That stupid smirk that you hate because you know he’s about to say something annoying, but love at the same time because it’s his smirk. “We’re still the same, we’re still us,” he swallows the bite, “except you’re my wife, and that isn’t so bad,” he smirks again and you have no idea where this conversation is going. He’s a bit tipsy, having already opened a second bottle of red wine, and except the two glasses you had for yourself, the remaining alcohol is in his system. “Why wait and date around to get married, when we’re right here? I have you and you have me, we’re locked in for life, baby,”
You feel a lump in your throat, and you’re not sure if it’s because he might have just promised you eternity by his side, or the fact that he’s just admitting to be settling for you instead of trying to go after someone he might actually love.
But you agreed to this, to the life he’s promised you. When you looked into his mischievous eyes once he kneeled down in front of you, you knew what you were getting into. Putting your feelings aside, being able to call Donghyuck yours even if he wasn’t anything more than the childhood friend you grew to love in a different way than the way he claimed he loved you back. The casual ‘be careful, love you’s you two threw in at the end of phone calls or when saying goodbye after school became to you much more than what they became to Donghyuck. But the gleam of hopefulness he’s always held in his gaze as he said he believed in you, as he tried to coerce you into committing fraud, as he promised you the moon, the stars, and everything else hanging in the sky, it really made you believe that you could have it all. If this all meant having Donghyuck next to you for the next years, decades, then it was all worth it.
And your routine as a married couple becomes just that, a routine. Waking up in the morning, making breakfast, and then he leaves for work because, unlike you, he still kept a job. And then you don’t know how to make time pass faster until he comes back home, to you. You fill your time with shopping sprees and activities you’ve never thought you would be picking up — going to the spa and playing tennis every other day. The months pass and you’re not sure how your life has become so boring. Before, you really had it all and you didn’t even realise. A job, your own apartment, your own car that Donghyuck got rid of after the two of you got married, just to gift you another one. You used to hang out with your friends multiple days a week, now it’s a miracle if you see them once every two weeks. Moving to a mansion at the outskirts of the city isolated you, and you relied on Donghyuck for all the support you needed.
As for your relationship with him, there really isn’t much to say. Nothing has changed, except that he seems to be less annoying, or maybe it’s the fact that you’ve already become too used to him and his personality since the wedding happened. At first, you travelled together for your honeymoon, and you swear you were on the brink of divorcing him, but that annoying feeling has subsided considerably, and you have a faint idea of the reason why that is.
And then, you start to notice Donghyuck doesn’t come home for dinner time that often anymore. Hell, you could say that it’s a miracle if he comes home on time for dinner at least two days a week. Most times, he comes home too late and has to eat alone, while talking to you about his day and what his plans for the following day are. Other times, he goes straight to take a shower, telling you he’s not hungry and that he’ll take a bite of what you’ve cooked in the morning instead.
And tonight, it’s both. He promised he’d be back on time for dinner and then High School Musical marathon on your big flat screen tv. But the dinner has run cold, you’ve already taken a shower, and by the time you hear Donghyuck’s keys open the heavy front door, you’ve already played the first two films.
“Honey I’m hom-”, he’s interrupted by a gasp, and you can hear his heavy footsteps run down the hallway to the living room, “Did you really start without me?” He whines, and you almost cannot believe your ears.
“Please tell me you’re not serious right now, Hyuck,” you warn, looking at him.
Donghyuck looks at you, at your figure, at your eyes. You’re looking at him, and there’s something in your gaze that, for the first time in years, he can’t decipher. Your eyes are sleepy, almost droopy, a clear sign of your tiredness. Or maybe you’re just disappointed and tired of him.
He plops down next to you, looking at you apologetically, and the action makes you jump on your spot on the couch. “I’m an idiot,” he whispers.
“You are,” you agree, nodding your head as you return your attention to the high screen in front of your figures.
“Are you mad at me?” He tests the waters, and it only makes you want to punch his face more.
“Why would I be mad?” You scoff, bringing your legs to your chest, an action he knows you do when you try to avoid confrontation.
“You’re not looking at me, Y/n” he mumbles, and it makes you roll your eyes. He knows you too well. “I’m sorry I’m an idiot. I just lost track of time,” he tries to explain to you, but honestly you don’t care.
You think your blood pressure has gone through the roof when your ears start ringing and your palm is itching to be smacked against his face.
“Doing what?” You ask, and if looks could kill, Donghyuck is sure he’d be in great agony right now, just about there, on the verge of dying. It’s the first time you’ve looked at him since he plopped down next to you, and Donghyuck knows better than talking nonsense and making you even angrier, because you always smell his bullshit a mile away.
“I’m sorry,” he apologises again, trying to dodge your question, “Was with the boys out for dinner,” he pouts, “I promise we can spend as much time together as we used to once I’m done with this project at work. Kiss and make up?” He tries one of his oldest tricks on you. Ever since elementary school, every time you were upset with him he would pull this stunt on you. The upset one being kissed on the cheek in a sweet and childish attempt to make things better with a gesture of intimacy neither you nor Donghyuck liked showing to other people. Only to each other.
And his attempt to make you at least slightly less upset with him is successful when the corners of your mouth turn upright just slightly. So he leans in, successfully invading your personal space, his head mere centimetres away from yours, and his chapped lips seem to leave a burning mark when he smacks a kiss on the plush of your left cheek.
And that’s not the only thing that’s left burning right now, as you sense a scent you don’t really recognise. It’s so sweet it burns your nostrils, that consequently flare as a result of the nauseating fragrance that has invaded your personal space.
He retracts himself, singing along with Gabriella, but you don’t focus on the scene or what’s happening around you at the moment. You look at him, as he’s slouched on the couch, his head propped up by one of the cushions on the couch. He seems content with you dropping the topic of his late arrival and the dismissal of all your plans for the evening, and you’re left wondering if he’s aware of the fact that he smells like fucking cheap perfume.
The smell is so strong up your nose that you’re sure there’s no amount of fresh air that can get rid of it, it’s the kind of smell you spray from a tester out of pure curiosity and it’s the worst fucking mistake you can ever do because the horrible smell will cling to your skin for the rest of the day. Too sweet and too strong.
You’re snatched out of your own thoughts when you see him turning his head to look at you, “I need to take a shower,” he announces, standing to his feet and moving towards the hall with the staircase to your shared bedroom and bathroom. “And after that I’m all yours, baby” he sings, and you’re once again left wondering, but this time all by yourself.
All mine, you repeat his words in your head a few times, but the only thing you can do right now is question if that’s really the case, or if it will ever be.
Days pass and you seem to be unable to get the nauseatingly sweet smell of that perfume out of your senses. You perceive it at random times, while cooking, while cleaning, and you know it’s all in your head, because you washed every piece of fabric that Donghyuck could have touched a few night ago with his skin, even after showering.
You don’t know what you were expecting, but it certainly wasn’t this. Sensing another woman’s perfume on your husband’s skin made your skin crawl and your heart drop to your ass. But is it even correct to call him your husband? He’s still your best friend, and that’s all he is meant to be forever. You can’t call him your husband if it’s just the two of you, because in all honesty it doesn’t feel like a normal marriage.
Because it isn’t, you’re reminded by your own voice of conscience.
And you know that’s right. The marriage is just a cover for when your families and friends are around, you don’t get to enjoy all the privileges of being married when there’s no one around, and you realise it’s upsetting you.
What the fuck is going on with me? You end up asking yourself. Why is this situation getting to you? You knew what you were getting into, you knew who Donghyuck is and what he goes around doing, you’ve known him for all your life and even helped him get out of unpleasant situations multiple times, so why exactly is it bothering you so much?
You’re pulled back from you own thoughts when your phone rings, and you pick it up to see who the caller is.
“Yes,” you sigh, not really in the mood to hear his voice.
“Wow, gosh, could you be more enthusiastic of my call?” Donghyuck’s tone is full of sarcasm, and you’re seriously contemplating if you should just hang up the call.
“I’m kind of busy,” you lie, “what is it?”
“I’m getting off work early tonight, wanna have dinner with me tonight?” He asks, and you can hear the car’s engine making noise in the background. “Y/n, hello?” He raises his voice a bit, thinking there’s no signal.
“Jesus fucking Christ, stop sounding like a hyena in heat,” you retort, bothered by the high pitch of his voice. “Pick me up at eight?”
“It’s a date!” He cheers on the other end of the line.
As much as you didn’t want to be in his proximity right now, you can’t deny the fact that you miss him, and spending time with him. You’d still rather watch a lion feasting on an antelope rather than seeing his face and hearing him talk to you about trivial stuff as if he didn’t come home smelling like another woman. But the truth is that you miss him. You miss his company, his presence, the idiotic jokes he makes and the smart comments he lets out when you watch a film or show him some new music. You miss him spending time with you, just being together most of the time, and worst of all is that you miss talking to him. You used to talk to him about everything. From family problems to boy issues, from uncertainties to future plans, and he used to be there for you, attentive as ever as if your words held the truth to all secrets and mysteries of this planet.
And you’re hoping that tonight it can be just that. You hope he misses you and your company just as much, and that he made these plans to take you out in an attempt to close the gap that has formed in your relationship. If you feel the distance and all these upsetting feelings and thoughts, then he must feel them too, right?
But the hours pass, and like some sort of sick tradition he’s trying to establish in your relationship lately, he doesn’t show up. You’re in a dress, you smell nice, you look spectacular, waiting for him to take you out for dinner at the new amazing place he’s found. Your stomach churns realising that he probably landed in that place with someone else as his date, and that’s how he discovered it, and you grab your purse before exiting the house.
You need to go out by yourself, and clear your head of all the insecurities you realise this marriage has given you. You used to enjoy his own company, and you used to look forward to having Donghyuck around you so often. But now it only irritates you, the thought of being in his proximity makes you want to punch a wall, because you know you can’t be near him right now. He knows you too well for your own sake, and knows if something is off the moment your gaze meets his, so it’s better to avoid him if you want to save your face in this pathetic masquerade. Because that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? As long as people don’t see him going around on dates with other women, you have to go along with all of his actions. How would you explain to him that you know what he’s been doing behind your back? Because that’s what hurts you the most, his need of going behind your back instead of telling you about it all like he used to do in the past. Why did things have to change?
Your chest feels heavy and your eyes ready to spill some tears. You make your way to your car, you need to be by yourself. Not like you haven’t been mostly by yourself in the past months, but realising why this happened makes you want to disappear into thin air. And you need to be far away, in a place where you can clear your mind, far away from Donghyuck, his smell, and you shared house — where everything reminds you of him, what could have been, and a macabre reminder of what it actually is.
Donghyuck doesn’t know how he got home the night before, too much alcohol present in his system. But he knows one thing, you weren’t there in your shared bed. Considering the taste in his mouth as soon as he wakes up, he can only imagine how bad he smells and that it would have probably woken you up the moment his head hit the pillow next to yours, knowing your sensitive nose. Because of this, he thinks you not being here last night and this morning to witness his state is a blessing. But he also knows that he misses you. He remembers being cold last night, and when he reached for you in search of heat, you weren’t there.
Donghyuck’s head raises from his pillow, a splitting headache making him hit the pillow once again.
You’ve never been away at night, not since this marriage happened. Suddenly, he remembers he has your location, and he can check your whereabouts on his phone.
“She’s home?” He mumbles surprised, making a huge effort not to whine in pain as soon as he stands off the bed and his head starts throbbing.
In his actual state, he doesn’t know where in this huge house to look for you, but then his head feels like being split in half when he hears the clanking of some pots and pans downstairs in the kitchen, and his nose picks up the faint smell of coffee and pancakes.
“Good morning,” he tests the waters as soon as he sets foot in the kitchen, but the bright light coming from outside the open window makes him whine in pain, and he brings his hand over his eyes in a sudden movement.
“Morning,” you reply back, flipping the two pancakes in your pan.
He takes a seat at the kitchen island, just in front of where you’re working your ingredients, and you feel his gaze following you and your movements.
“How long have you been gone last night?” He asks out of curiosity, and he sees you suddenly frowning. He loves getting to talk to you face to face, because you can never hide your emotions from him. He knows every jot and tittle of yours.
“How long have you been gone last night?” You have a sudden burst, asking him the same question, and you grip that pancake spatula so harshly your knuckles turn white.
“What?” Donghyuck straightens his back on the high chair, looking at you confused. Seeing you so upset makes him forget about his muscles pain and splitting headache. Why are you so worked up for?
And then it downs on him. Last night, the alcohol, the company, losing track of time. The plans he’s made with you. He’s been away almost every night in the past months, and he never paid too much attention to you, because he never thought it would bother you this much. You can’t even bring yourself to look at him right now, and he knows he’s fucked up. You’re never avoidant unless you are really upset, or you’re trying to avoid confrontation because you’re about to open your mouth to pour your heart out. He’s witnessed this behaviour of yours multiple times, so he knows what to expect from you.
Except this time, you don’t start a fight, you don’t get teary eyed, you don’t tell him what has been bothering you. But he already knows. He’s been away too much, and he’s bailed on you a lot lately.
You keep your eyes on your pancakes and on the huge bowl with batter, not even once looking at him.
“I’m so, so sorry, Y/n,” he mumbles softly, and by his tone you realise he’s genuine.
“What are you sorry for?” You ask, as if it didn’t really matter to you. Except it really mattered, more than you’d like to admit. But you’ve heard him apologise to you on many occasions in the last few weeks and months, and you feel like it’s lost its meaning.
“For forgetting about you and our plans,” he answers. Ouch. Him saying it out loud hurt more than the thoughts running lapses around your head. “I’m really sorry for not being here more often,” he continues.
And he really is, because he’s gone about his life like he didn’t coerce you into getting married for his own good. He thought that the setting down part will be done, and then the huge bank account that would come with it would be an advantage. When he said nothing has to change in your dynamic, he meant it. He wants you to go out and live your life to the fullest, especially now that the both of you share millions of dollars. There’s nothing that can stop you, nor him. While you have a joint account, for which Donghyuck insisted, he also insisted you had your own bank accounts and own cards to use as you please. “No need for me to see what, when and where you spend our money,” he explained to you, and at that time you accepted the idea. The bigger, joint account was your safety net, because while you weren’t the big spender Donghyuck encouraged you to be, he liked throwing money left and right. He supposes it’s about the upbringing, and he knows that you still struggle to let yourself go on shopping sprees worth thousands of dollars a time and getting out of the house now that you quit your job. He just wishes you would let loosen up for a bit to enjoy what this marriage has brought you. Let yourself enjoy the money and the liberty of still doing everything you were used to doing before being legally bound to him.
“Y/n,” he calls your name, “Look at me,” he instructs, and you have to gather all your willpower to do as he says, because there’s nothing you want more than to tell him to fuck off.
When you look at him, he freezes in his chair. Your gaze is so full of emotion, so hurt, and he realises the tears he was expecting you to shed in your usual upset burst weren’t there because you had already shed them before, all by yourself.
He stands to his feet, and starts walking around the marble kitchen island to reach your figure. “My sweet Y/n,” he coos, pulling you in a tight hug. “Please forgive me,” your head rests in the crook of his neck, and Donghyuck’s skin tingles when he feels your breathing against his skin.
“You’ll have to do some grovelling before I can forgive you,” you mumble against the skin of his neck, and he lets a deep laugh escape him.
“What if I did the grovelling while having breakfast together on the terrace?” He asks, moving his head to look behind yourselves outside the window, checking the weather. “Sounds good?” He moves back to his initial position, his head resting on yours.
You nod, holding him a little tighter. “Let’s spend tomorrow together,” he proposes, and you nod once again.
“Before you start grovelling for breakfast, you need to go shower,” you let your arms fall, getting out of his embrace, gently pushing his chest to guide him out of the kitchen, “You stink of alcohol,”
He whines offended, but he knows you’re right. Before he can get out the room he stops in his tracks. “Kiss and make up?” He pouts his lips, closing his eyes and fluttering his lashes like the drama queen he is. No conflict is ever resolved without a kiss and make up situation. You lean in, this time giving him a small peck on the lips instead of extending your cheek for him to kiss.
The action visibly takes him aback, but he doesn’t say anything, and he exits the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face.
You look at the tv, at the bottles of beer scattered around you and Donghyuck, and the Chinese takeout boxes resting on the coffee table in front of you. At his long, tanned legs as he sits on the carpet next to you, his gaze fixed on the tv playing Notting Hill.
After a painfully long time, Donghyuck made an effort to be with you. No more excuses, no more hiding, he knows he’s been away and distant for a few months now, and after the euphoria of the wedding and the first few exciting months of being married to you had worn off he basically went back to his old ways, as if the past few months have never happened and he was still an eligible bachelor ready to roam the streets of the city almost, if not every night.
He knows he owes this to you, to the decades of friendship with you, to the love he has for you. He loves you more than he would a sister, but less than a romantic interest, if that makes sense. Maybe it’s the decades of friendship that have gotten him so attached to you, or maybe the fact that you’ve always understood and protected him the best you could. Whenever his parents fought, and he got dragged in these relentless fights between the two of them, being asked to pick a side, he flew the scene and came running to your house. You’ve always understood him, you’ve always shared everything with him, you and your parents made him realise what normality is like. A loving family, not everything being about money and power and jealousy. And that’s one of the reasons why he married you, he knows it. Apart from being the one to know him best, even more than his family and grandma Lee, you’re the one who provided him peace and tranquillity, the safety of being loved and, no matter how many times he fucked up, you were always there for him — even if you scolded him first. He can’t pinpoint the nature of all the feelings he has for you, but he knows that you bring him the kind of comfort and safety no one has ever even tried bringing him.
You feel his gaze on you, and you turn your head to throw him a questioning look. “What’s wrong?” You ask, a deep frown plastered on your pretty face.
He’s snapped out of his own thoughts, and looks at you like a deer in highlights, seemingly taken aback by the fact that he was so deep into his head that he didn’t even realise he was looking at you. He tries to conceal what he thinks was a surprised face when you bursted his bubble, and looks at you with fake annoyance.
“Y/n,” he says your name, sporting a serious expression, “I will have to be very honest with you,”
You turn your whole body around so you can face his, and you giggle looking at his face. Judging by the scene that’s on right now on the tv, you know exactly what he’s about to say.
“You hate Anna Scott?” You say it before he can.
“I hate Anna Scott,” he confirms, throwing his head back so it hits the seat of the couch, “how can you even like her, she’s the worst!” He whines, lazily pointing his hand towards the tv screen where Julia Roberts’s character is having a fight with Hugh Grant’s.
“Because!” You gasp, smiling sheepishly, knowing that what you’re about to say is going to annoy the hell out of him. “She’s just a girl!” You start, and Donghyuck is already rolling his eyes at you, “Standing in front of a boy!” You’re so excited to do your number, and Donghyuck doesn’t say anything but he turns his head to look the other way. “Asking him to love her!” You end your act by grabbing his black t-shirt and pulling him a bit towards you.
Donghyuck looks at you, at your hands on his chest, at your excitement, and he can’t help being surprised. He also can’t help the rosy cheeks he feels getting hotter and hotter, and the strange movements happening in the pit of his stomach. This never happened before, every time he was the one initiating any type of physical touch with you, or even when you give him as much as a hug back. But he never felt this way.
He tries to regain his composure, pushing himself up against the foot of the couch to an upright posture. He clears his throat as smoothly as he can, trying to remember what was happening before you became so excited. Ah yes, fucking Anna Scott.
“She’s just a girl,” he copies you with a whiney tone, rolling his eyes once again. “She’s an idiot, that’s what she is, Y/n. She’s despicable, so much that they should make a Despicable Me film with her as the main villain,” He argues, his smooth forehead now marked by a deep frown, his index repeatedly and forcibly poking on the carpet underneath the both of you, trying to make his point come across.
You pause the film, outraged at his hate for the character. It wasn’t the first time he hated on her, but he was never this vocal.
“She’s not that bad, Hyuck” you retort, bringing your legs up to your chest, your body still facing his.
He smirks at you, that kind of attractive, devious smirk he makes when he’ll start a debate with you just to crush you and your opinions like a cockroach in a sewer.
“Think about it, Y/n,” he says, his body turning towards yours, imitating the way you are sitting. “If the roles were to be reversed, would you think this way?” He asks, smirking at you, tsking in disapproval.
You look at him, weighting his words, and you’re sure your eyes are the size of saucers while looking into his smug ones.
“She plays with that poor man’s heart, Y/n. She plays this push and pull game I really don’t know why William loves her, it’s like she likes hurting him and he’s an idiot too for sticking with her for so long,” he sighs as if he was William himself, going through that kind of pain himself.
You look at him, unimpressed. It’s ironic, really, he's mocking the ones who play with other people’s hearts.
“Thank god William learnt some self respect, right?” You whisper back, looking at his side profile, waiting for his gaze to meet yours. Except, he never looks back at you, laughing at your words with his specific deep laugh that he lets out whenever he’s taken by surprise.
For god’s sake, he can’t read the fucking room, you think.
“Yeah, that too,” he agrees after he recomposes himself, finally looking at you, his facial features relaxed with amusement. “But it’s a cute ending, I’ll give you that, baby” he responds, going back to the smugness you so love and hate at the same time.
“Thank you for today,” you tell him when the film is over, the last song playing loudly in the background, making Donghyuck start humming it. He knows it by heart, with all the times you made him watch your favourite film and the countless times you put the soundtrack on.
“No, I should be the one to thank you,” he explains, picking up the beer bottles scattered around the room and walking behind you towards the kitchen, where you’re headed with all the Chinese takeout boxes balanced in your arms. “I know I haven’t been a present friends, or we could say husband, but I really want you to know that you matter to me and things between you and I haven’t changed,” he explains, and it feels like a sharp object is piercing your chest repeatedly.
Just another reminder that things are still the same according to him. Another reminder that things between the two of you will never change the way you wanted.
Sensing his piercing gaze on your figure, you nod, not feeling like letting any words out.
You leave the kitchen first promising to clean all the mess in the morning, but Donghyuck is close behind you, and you can still sense his gaze on your figure as you make your way in and out of the ensuite bathroom, and his eyes feel very heavy on you, like there’s something he needs to bring up and doesn’t know how, so instead he just looks at you until you’ll spare him a look.
So, you spare him a look. And he’s like a kicked puppy, sitting in the middle of the bed and you sense uncertainty in his posture. The easy going Donghyuck you know is nowhere to be found, and you feel obligated to intervene and ask him what’s going on in that head of his.
“Hyuck,” you say his name, climbing into bed, “Is everything okay?”
“Mhm,” he hums, but you can see him still being hesitant about something.
“You sure?” You giggle, trying to ease his nerves. He’s never hid anything from you, and he’s never taken so long to open up about something either. You never had to coerce him into opening up about what’s bothering him. “Hyuck, look at me,” you say, but it comes out more as a question.
He avoids your plea for a bit, and then he gives in and his gaze meets yours. It’s sparkling, but not with his usual smugness and joy. Instead, you’re met with an emotional look that looks like might be on the verge of tears.
“What’s wrong?” You ask, grabbing his cheeks, and you notice how they’re burning up.
“I’m so, so sorry,” he says, avoiding your eyes once again, even if you’re holding his head still with your hands. “I've treated you so badly lately, I cannot imagine how my avoidance affected you day by day, and as I said before, I know I haven’t been here for you and truth be told, I don’t want anything to change. I dont want to lose you, and I certainly don’t want you to resent me in any kind of way. I’m so sorry, Y/n,” he pauses in order to take a breath in.
You let go of his face, speechless, not knowing if you should open up as well or if you should let him be the only one to open up right now.
“I want you to know that no matter what, I love you. I really do, Y/n,” he grabs your face with his clammy hands, a clear sign of the nerves he’s experiencing right now, “I care about you, and nothing or no one will come between you and me, yeah?”
His eyes are sincere, but his words sting like hell. He says he loves you, but to what extent? You know the kind of feelings you have for him, you’re aware of them and you know their nature, but is he as certain of his, as you are of yours?
You’re so deep into your head that you fail to notice the kind of gaze Donghyuck is giving you, but when you raise your eyes to look at his face, you notice how his eyes are on your lips and immediately shift back to you eyes.
You lick your lips out of instinct, a habit you’ve had all your life when your boyfriends and partners looked at your lips before kissing you, and you close your eyes embarrassed after doing it in front of Donghyuck. After all, he’s just… your husband.
Donghyuck’s clammy hands gently squeeze the side of your face, trying to bring your attention back to him. You open your eyes and your gaze lands instantly on his lips, knowing his face’s proportion perfectly by now, your eyes sliding immediately without you not even registering the action. Until you feel him leaning in, his eyes barely open, and there’s a force that pulls you in closer to him, and even if you wanted to pull back you know that’s not what you really want. But is it what he really wants?
You give up on trying to analyse the situation right now, and you grab his wrists as you feel him getting rid of the mere centimetres of distance between your lips. His plump lips feel sweet amidst the kiss, the way they sit perfectly on yours makes you feel elated, and you briefly remember who you’re kissing right now. You cheeks feel like they’re on fire, but the kiss is too intoxicating to come to reason with your conscience, and you feel his tongue poke tentatively for access. You grant it, and he smiles into the kiss, his tongue now dancing with yours in a sweet saccharine waltz. You don’t care about the way you’re both running out of air, the way his kiss is getting more and more desperate, and the way you can’t stop chasing his lips now that you’re feeling like you’ve opened pandora’s box.
He detaches himself from your lips, the action making a popping sound that you’ve never found this hot until today.
“Just promise me,” you say, taking big breaths as discretely as possible, your throat feeling incredibly dry all of a sudden. “Promise me you’ll never run away from me,” you say, caressing his cheek, and he leans into your touch like a poor animal looking for affection.
“Okay,” he promises, pulling you into his embrace, and it feels like he’s promising you the whole universe.
But you should have known better than trusting Donghyuck. Is like ever since he married you he’s done nothing but hurt and lie to you, like the decades of friendship have never happened and like the past didn’t even matter to him. The promises he’s made in the wedding vows and the ones made to you personally and privately, have no value to him, you’ve come to this conclusion the next day, when he was nowhere to be found.
He was out the door before you could wake up to make breakfast, and you wouldn’t hear from him for the entirety of the day. He would come back home late, knowing his dinner had already run cold, not like it ever mattered anyway since you know he was having dinner out, possibly with some other female companion. He would come to bed, thinking you’re sound asleep, but you felt and heard everything. The sighs, the stirring in his sleep, the occasional smell of alcohol on his breath, the way he would keep his distance from you every night.
It went on this way for five days before you couldn’t take it anymore, so you moved your essentials out of your shared bedroom and bathroom, to one of the guest rooms. And it should have been this way since the beginning. Apparently being married has no value to the one you thought understood you the best, and what’s a signed paper in front of bodily desires? Nothing, that’s for sure.
This way you’re spared the icky perfumes he comes home having traces of on his skin and clothes, you’re spared the presence of a person that clearly doesn’t love you the way they claimed before, nor does he really care for you, you’re sure of this. Who breaks a promise to someone they supposedly say they love? You’re spared the sadness you feel when he doesn’t reach out to you all day and ultimately comes home at the crack of dawn, and the hesitation you feel when he sits tentatively on the edge of the bed before he decides to lie down next to you. And, most importantly, you’re spared the heartbreak.
The marriage is just a contract to him, you’re just some sort of friends only, treating you like a housemate who he gets the privilege of calling his wife to the outside world. No amount of money, fancy dinners, and privileges that his status brought to you once you married him is worth the pain you’re feeling being ignored by him out of all people. If it were Renjun, you’d understand. If it were one of the girls, it would be logical since you stopped hanging out that often with all your friends ever since you got married. No more meet ups in the middle of the week, no more wine parties during film nights with them. You changed when you got married, but you never thought shit would hit the fan so fast. You could understand if anyone treated you this badly, but not Donghyuck. The bond you two shared was too important, at least for you. But he doesn’t value it as much, that much is clear to you.
You move rooms, you stop making dinner, only eating small portions by yourself because, after all, everything would end up in the bin if you made dinner for him as well. You sleep alone at night, even if you’re cold as hell and you miss his body emanating heat, but you don’t think he’s even noticed your moving rooms. With the amount of alcohol he ingests before returning home late at night, you’re not even sure how he can remember where home is.
You start looking for sports courses, pottering classes, airplane tickets for vacations you’ve always wanted to go on, anything that could get you back on track and to stop you from being the wannabe perfect wife to someone who doesn’t even consider you his wife worth respecting.
Two weeks pass since you two shared the kiss, and Donghyuck’s still avoiding you like the plague. So you do him a favour and make it easier for him by hiding from him.
One evening, you’re sitting on the couch biting on an apple and watching a documentary when your phone rings. No one ever calls you, and in a pathetic attempt of hoping that he’s the one calling, you’re reminded of how much of a fool you are when you’re met with Jaemin’s name and contact picture looking right back at you. He never calls you, only talking to you through texts, so your stomach drops when your thoughts start racing, thinking that the reason Jaemin’s calling has something to do with something bad that’s happened to Donghyuck.
“Jaemin?” You ask, falling short of breath expecting the worst news ever. You suddenly regret the cold shoulder you’ve given Donghyuck.
“Y/n, yes, hi” he answers robotically, and you feel hesitation in his voice.
“Did something happen?” You push it, trying to brace yourself for the worst possible news.
“Mmm, just wanted to ask you something,” he says but it comes out more like a question. When you prompt him to continue, you hear him breathe through his teeth hesitantly, “I wanted to see if Hyuck’s home, maybe?” You know Jaemin well enough to know that he is conflicted and embarrassed by this phone call.
“What?” You ask incredulously. “Is this the reason you called?” You bark back, knowing that Jaemin is not one of the people you need to hide from when it comes to the real you, and your vulgar mouth with all the swear words.
“I didn’t know who to call,” he says but it sounds like a question once again, his tone defensive. “Me and Mark were supposed to meet him at my apartment tonight, and he didn’t show up. We thought something had happened because he said he’d come home to grab a quick bite with you, but he never came back and it’s been two hours” he explains, and you hear Mark telling him what kind of questions to ask you, “I’m sorry Y/n, just call me if you ever need anything”.
You sigh, once again disappointed. “I’m sorry Jaemin,” you pinch the bridge of your nose, “And Mark,” you continue, knowing he’s listening as well. “I’m sorry but Donghyuck never came home, and I don’t know where he is,” you say, before bidding goodbye to the two.
What a fucking idiot, you mumble, throwing your phone on the couch. You pick up your apple but you can’t chew on it right now, not with the lump that’s formed in your throat, suffocating you.
Why is Donghyuck acting the way he is? To you, to his friends? It's like he doesn’t want to keep the cover up of this marriage intact to the eyes of outsiders.
Lost in your own thoughts you lose track of time, the first documentary ends just for another one to start. You fail to hear the car parking outside your house, but you don’t fail to notice the tingling of keys just outside your front door. Waiting for Donghyuck to enter and be as drunk as he’s made a habit of being, just for him to then skip checking the living room or any other room in the house and go directly to the upstairs bedroom, you’re incredibly irritated when you realise he’s so drunk off his ass that he can’t see where to put the keys in.
You stand to you feet, approaching the front door, and just in that moment the door opens slightly, showing a dishevelled Donghyuck totter forward in the hallway. He notices you, and he smirks at you as if you’re not ready to kick him in the throat for all the mixed feelings you’re feeling because of him. You’ve never felt more low, more pathetic, more disrespected than right now.
“Hi, baby” he rasps, and you know that the tone of his voice and the words he just spoke would have had you on cloud nine. But now you feel disgusted.
“Where the fuck have you been? And why are you so drunk at seven in the evening?” You ask, a deep frown plastered on you features.
He tsks, trying to stand upright, and that’s when you see it. At first you think it’s just the shadow of his shirt’s collar, but then you look more attentively, and a simple shadow can’t have red and brown and purple tones plastered all over.
A hickey? Your heart drops and you think you’re about to black out in about ten seconds because of the distress you feel right now. Another woman’s scent is something, but a mark on his body is another thing completely. You suddenly feel sick to your stomach, but he’s too drunk to bring it up, and you know it’s not really your place to hold him accountable for this. So your internal war goes on and on, and on.
So you try to play it off by chewing his head off like a good friend would do. And you hope the hurt in your eyes goes unnoticed, but you don’t think too deeply about this because he’s too drunk to remember his own name.
“Where have you been, Hyuck?” You ask softly, but he’s too drunk to sense the amicable tone you’re using, and gets defensive immediately.
“Why the fuck do you keep asking me this, Y/n?” He barks, and somehow it hurts you more than anything he’s previously done to you.
The lump in your throat sets itself once again, threatening to make you spill the dinner and the apple you had tonight. But looking at Donghyuck’s dishevelled self, smelling him, and seeing the marks on his neck completely enrages you, making you find the voice to snarl back at him.
“Don’t fucking raise your voice because I’m on the verge of punching you in the throat, Donghyuck” you snarl through gritted teeth.
“You’re so sexy when you threaten me, and you using my government name, baby,” he smirks, trying to keep his upright posture the best he can.
“Stop being an idiot,” you push his shoulder, making him lose his balance for just a second. “Jaemin called me, Donghyuck,” you push him once again, this time his back comes into touch with the wall behind him, and the mention of his friend’s name snaps Donghyuck out of whatever dizziness he was in. His eyes are the size of saucers, and he seems like he wants to say something but you cut him off immediately, “It’s okay to neglect me, but get you fucking shit together if you don’t want your other friends to burst your fucking masterplan,” you say through gritted teeth, before turning around and going up the stairs, not sparing Donghyuck another look.
In doing so, you fail to see the look on Donghyuck’s face, you fail to hear the front door closing behind him, and the engine of his car getting turned on.
You’re suffocated by the wave of emotions you feel, they’re making you drown in your own tears. Tears run down your cheeks before you can sense them even brimming in your eyes, and the sobs that follow are a raw reminder of the unhappiness you’ve felt in the last months of your life. But now you can add betrayal to the equation.
You must do something to get out of this situation, or you’re risking losing yourself for a man who doesn’t really lose sleep over how much hurt he’s causing you.
Donghyuck is not sure how he’s managed to reach Jaemin’s apartment complex safe and sound, but he stomps his way through the building like he owns it. He just might. He’ll buy the place tomorrow and he’ll kick Jaemin on the streets for the stunt he’s pulled on his wife later this evening.
The knocks on Jaemin’s door reverberate so loudly that even Donghyuck is kind of intimidated by the echo they make.
The moment Jaemin opens the door, Donghyuck pushes through without caring about the force he uses to push at Jaemin’s chest in order to get him out of the way.
“What the fuck, man?” Jaemin asks in disbelief.
“I’m the one who’s supposed to ask you this, you moron,” Donghyuck snarls, pushing again at Jaemin chest, making him grit his teeth in annoyance knowing why his friend is paying him a visit. It must have something to do with the phone call he’s given his wife.
“Watch your fucking mouth,” he warns, waiting for the shitstorm that drunk Donghyuck is willing to start.
“What the fuck were you thinking, calling Y/n?” Donghyuck raises his voice once again, “You call my wife for what reason, exactly?” His gaze throws daggers at Jaemin’s head, but the latter doesn’t back down. “What the fuck is wrong with you, snooping about my life like you have no other business? Are you trying to ruin it for me?”
Jaemin can take a lot of things. Can take violence, palms of hands on his chest, punches to his face. He can take a nasty mouth like Donghyuck’s, and he can take the disrespect because he knows he’ll sort it out with his friend once he’s sober. But there are a few things Jaemin can’t take, like when someone's blaming him when he did nothing wrong, and when women are being disrespected.
So he walks towards Donghyuck, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and throwing him into the wall, keeping him glued against the hard, cold surface.
“Your wife was home alone, sad, and upset,” Jaemin makes a threatening pause between each word, pushing Donghyuck against the wall again and again each time, “So shut the fuck up before I push you through this wall. She didn’t even know where you were, you're drunk and you have fucking hickeys on your fucking neck. So, tell me now, who’s the one ruining it for you? Me or yourself?,” Jaemin lets Donghyuck go after one last push. But doesn’t spare him another look.
A week passes since the hickey incident and you don’t see Donghyuck. You assume he’s on some sort of vacation with someone else, and you don’t even care enough to look for him on the tracking app. You don’t want to make an obsession out of this, because you guess he’s with someone else, and actually seeing his contact on some exotic country’s map on the phone app would be your final straw.
So you try to do your own thing by packing a small trolley and calling a cab to take you to the airport. You’re not sure about the destination, but you feel like you need to do this to get out of the slums of your heart.
You buy a ticket for the first flight you set your eyes on once you reach the ticket till, and you make your way through the passenger lounges towards the gates. You already feel refreshed, and you nearly vibrate with anticipation when you think about the days that are yet to come and the alone time you’ll have to yourself, but this time in a different city. Alone and away from your supposed husband.
You reach one of the restaurants there, and you hate to admit to yourself that Donghyuck has engulfed every aspect of your life when you realise that you’re going to drink beer and eat steak at ten in the morning just because Donghyuck has always done this type of thing, “It’s the law of the jungle here, baby” he once joked when he almost got drunk off overpriced wine in one of the airport’s restaurants way before noon.
So you gulp the resurfacing feelings back to where they belong, the bottom of your being where you hope they’ll be forgotten and unreachable for a long time, and so you reach the bar, asking for steak and beer like you’d be asking for a coffee and muffin at the local cafeteria back home. Which again, you don’t need to be worried about because airports are like casinos, especially if you have a flight with a layover in the middle.
You chew your steak and you can’t help but think about how Donghyuck would love this, and there goes your appetite. The lump in your throat returns, and your stomach churns because of all the emotions you feel all at once. You think you need to go see a doctor, because your emotional state is already affecting your physical state as well.
“Excuse me,” you feel someone patting you slightly on the shoulder, making you flinch just a bit at the unexpected contact, “Is this seat taken?” The stranger asks again in a very polite way, which makes you turn around to look at him.
You’re met with a tall, lean figure standing a few feet behind you, his finger still pointing at the seat next to you. You suddenly remember his question and you jump in realisation, moving your luggage on your other side of the stool you’re sitting on, making some space for him to move and sit down. “By all means,” you look at him, gesturing towards the high stool at the bar, “Please take a seat,”
He gives you a smile in return making himself comfortable before picking up the menu to look over. He’s wearing a black wool sweater, his glasses are covered in water droplets that have gone dry by now, probably from the rain outside. His black hair falls slightly on his forehead, and he has to shake his head from time to time to prevent his fringe from getting into his eyes as he tries to look for something appealing in that whole menu.
You go back to chewing your steak, and even nearly cold it’s still delicious. You try not to think too much about the steak and who might like it, or otherwise you’ll not be able to swallow the bite.
“Is the steak good?” The man on your left asks, still holding the menu in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he giggles, realising that you didn’t expect anyone to talk to you, “It’s just that I’m not really sure what to order and I’m starving, and that steak looks really nice,” he smiles at you, but you probably look like an idiot while he was only trying to be friendly.
“You should get it,” you smile back, seeing how his features relax when he hears your answer, “It’s one of the best steaks I’ve ever eaten. The ones I make are excluded,” you laugh, cutting into your steak.
His ears seem to perk up at the mention of your cooking, now intrigued by you. He introduces himself, and you grab his hand, never breaking eye contact with him. His hand is warm and big, his long fingers wrap around your palm, squeezing slightly.
“So, where are you off to?” He asks after a while, curious to know a bit more about you.
“Chicago,” you answer, playing with your bracelets.
“What a coincidence,” he sips on the last drop of beer from his glass, “So am I".
Donghyuck doesn’t see you for a whole week. After the fight at Jaemin’s, he doesn’t come back home to you, but spends the night in his car instead. Not that he couldn’t afford going to some other place, but he was still drunk and the information Jaemin gave about you really did a number on him. Jaemin could punch him, break his head against any surface of his apartment and it still wouldn’t hurt as much as finding out that you’re aware of all his actions on the side of your marriage.
And the fact that he has some fucking hickeys on his skin, and that you surely saw them, makes him want to jump off a cliff. The remorse is eating him from inside, and he’s sure he’s about to get a hole in his chest at the amount of stress he’s been through in the last week.
But not seeing you for a week did Donghyuck some good. He had some time to himself to be really alone, in a hotel room just outside the city, and rethink his life choices and everything he’s done lately. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this amount of shame bubbling inside of him, never thought he’d be able to hurt you so much. He remembers your eyes from that night, when you shoved his shoulder, and it must have happened after you saw the marks on his skin. He feels like a fucking idiot, like he has shit for a brain and there’s no way he’s ever going to straighten things up with you, not after last week. And he honestly doesn’t know what was going on in his head in the past months after the wedding happened, and what made him do all of this, all of the suffering he’s brought you.
After the wedding, after the first few months after the wedding, after grandma Lee passed, he thought that things were just going to go back to how they were before he even saw that damned testament. He could go around fucking whoever he wanted, as long as he came home each evening to be with you, have dinner together and then go to sleep. Nothing between the two of you had to change. The casual sleepovers at one of your apartments would become a recurrent sharing of the bed, but now as husband and wife even if the titles were just for show. The hugs, the embraces, the casual signs of affection that the two of you showed each other wouldn’t have to change. Except, he broke all his rules. Yes, he did go around fucking whoever he wanted, but he never got home on time. He stopped hanging out with you, stopped being there for you. And he can’t help but wonder what the fuck is wrong with him, because the amount of heartbreak he feels right now while acknowledging the pain he’s put you through is making him lose his mind. Maybe he realises this too late, but he thinks he’s done it out of fear. Fear of acknowledging his true feelings. Maybe he never thought you would ever agree to marrying him, but again, he was really hoping you would. He doesn’t understand what’s going on in his mind, but he’s sure of one thing, and that is he loves you. Scrap the “more than a sister but less than a romantic interest” bullshit he’s told himself time and time again, he’s sure he loves you in the pathetic Anna Scott and William Thacker way, the hopeless way, the romantic and desperate, yearning for your attention and just for you — kind of love.
Maybe spending one week away from you does him so good, because he decides to go back home, your shared home, to be a more present husband. He’ll work from home, he’ll do everything for you just as much as you did everything for him but he was too blind to see — or even more. He’ll take you out, he’ll take you on vacations you’ve always wanted to go on. He’ll pick up whatever couple activity you want, and even if it’s not an activity meant for couples he’d still go just for you.
He comes home after a week and a half of being away, and it’s early in the morning. He stops by the supermarket and buys all the ingredients he knows he needs to make your favourite breakfast, and buys freshly squeezed juice from the farmer’s till you love so much, by the entrance of the supermarket. He comes home, and it’s still early, and thank god you’re not down in the kitchen making something already.
He puts some music on, but the volume isn’t too loud so as to not wake you up. He wants to surprise you with breakfast in bed. He remembers when the two of you used to eat cup ramen or whatever other thing you prepared, while sitting in bed at either one’s dormitory. He misses those times, but he realises that nothing has to change, everything can be like before, especially now that he’s gotten the cold shower of reality.
He hears the front door open and turns around confused, but before he can take a step and come towards the entry hall, you show up in the kitchen looking just as surprised as he does.
“What is going on?” Your eyes are the size of saucers, pointing at the spatula in his hand and the apron he’s wearing on top of his casual clothes. It doesn’t look like he’s slept home, otherwise he’d be in his pyjamas or suit and tie. But he’s in jeans and a fitting t-shirt. This time, your stomach doesn’t churn and your heart doesn’t drop.
“Were you not home? Sleeping?” He asks, pointing his thumb towards the staircase.
“No,” you answer but it comes out more as a question, “Were you not home? You should have noticed I haven’t been here for four days,” you retort, your tone not that friendly.
“I’m sorry, I thought you were avoiding me,” he lies. His heart drops knowing he wasn’t here to notice you were gone. “I just wanted to make you breakfast, your favourite,” he shows you the pan full of vegetables, scrambled eggs and grated cheese. You start salivating looking at the colours in the pan alone, knowing that it’s going to be delicious because Donghyuck is an excellent cook. “By the way, we have freshly squeezed orange juice in the fridge, your favourite type, no pulp,” he points his head towards the fridge.
“Jesus, we’re like the fucking Kennedys this morning,” you reply, walking towards the fridge to take the juice out. He laughs at your joke, and it’s like music to your ears. You haven’t heard this sound in a long time, and you have to think about something else as not to let your feelings resurface.
“We’re more like… Brangelina,” he jokes, and this time you’re the one laughing.
“So,” he says, sitting at the kitchen island across from where you’re sitting, so he can see you better. God, you’re so beautiful. Your eyes are sparkling and your cheeks are rosy. You’re wearing that coloured chapstick that tints your lips just the right amount, and it contours your features so perfectly his chest heaves with something close to euphoria. The euphoria of seeing you. “Where did you go these past days? Did you have fun?” He doesn’t want to know the details, because it’s a reminder of the past. The past that he doesn’t want to go back to.
He’s a new man, a married man but he’ll take this seriously this time. A new chapter starts today.
Hearing his question, you stop mid chew. What are you supposed to tell him? Are you two sharing this kind of information now? “Yes,” you reply simply, nodding your head, “I had fun,”
“That’s good, I’m glad” he smiles at you, and it is his most genuine smile. You know it.
“Listen, Y/n,” he starts, but swallows his words when he looks at you. He wanted to apologise, but he feels like it’s too soon and too sudden right now. He’ll do it when the perfect time comes.
“Actually, Hyuck, I’d like for you to listen first. I have something I want to tell you,” you sip on your orange juice, and Donghyuck stops mid chew, and you sense there’s something in his eyes. Fear?
“I’m thankful for you making breakfast this morning, I really am,” you smile at him, trying to bring him some reassurance, “But you don’t have to do this. You never make breakfast and you’re never around but, for some reason, you’re here now preparing my favourite meal for me. I don’t know why you’re doing this or what’s wrong,” you actually might have a faint idea, but you keep it to yourself, “But we can live separate lives. I’ll respect your choices, and we don’t have to interact with each other if that’s not what you really want,”
“What? No!” He interrupts you, frowning, “What are you talking about?”
“You keep avoiding me, you’re away all the time,” you start, but you can feel tears forming in your eyes. Damn it, that’s not how you wanted this to turn out, he doesn’t deserve any more of your tears. “So, I understand that your plan of getting your inheritance was successful, but we really don’t need to be around each other. I get it now, so I’m letting you know that I’ve moved some of my things out of our room, but not all just in case, you know, if our friends ever come by and they see us having completely separate rooms. It would look really bad for your plan,” you explain, drying your tears but smiling nonetheless. And the image breaks Donghyuck.
“You can go do your activities, by yourself, and I’ll do mine on my own” you continue, “but there’s one thing I want to ask of you. Please don’t bring anyone in our house. This is our house,” you make small pauses between requests, hoping he’ll understand what you’re implying. You’re willing to give up your happiness thinking of what could have been, for the peace of mind of coming to terms with what your life is actually like. It’s the only way you can still be with Donghyuck, and you have to make this compromise.
“What?” He snarls, a frown painted on his face.
“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him, but you need to get away from him or you’ll start crying in front of him, and that’s not what you want. So you stand to your feet, pushing the stool under the kitchen island. “You don’t have to worry about anything, okay?” You look at him, but your emotions get the better of you and your eyes are brimming with tears for what feels like the millionth time in the past few months, and he looks back at you like you just caught him committing some sort of crime, “I’ll go to my room now, I need to be alone” you point towards the staircase, “By the way, there’s some dry cleaning that needs to be picked up, can you go?” You ask, but he knows that it is not a question.
He gulps, seeing your back leaving the kitchen. “Sure,” but you’re already on your way to your room, and you don’t hear him.
The day goes by, and Donghyuck doesn’t see you around the house again. He respects your boundaries, so he doesn’t push to get you to listen to what he has to say right away, so he secludes himself in your — formerly — shared bedroom, trying to give you space just for today at least.
The following day, he comes back home after picking the clothes held hostage for so long at the dry cleaner’s — and immediately notices the silence. The dead silence, only the clock ticking making a sound that’s too loud in Donghyuck’s ears and too heavy on his heart. He supposes you’re still locked in the guest room, hence the disgusting silence.
He’s used to finding you around the house either cooking, either singing using a broom as a mic stand as you clean around; either the loud sound of war documentaries, or you crying while watching a cheetah eating an antelope on Animal Planet, either you baby talking to the plants you were planting in some pots in the back garden. But now everything is dead, dead silent.
He really wants to make this right. He rethinks about everything that happened in the past weeks, Jaemin knocking some sense into him, all the conclusions he’s come to, and the words you told him yesterday morning.
First, he realised he wants to make this right. No more sleeping around, no more hiding from you, no more hurting you. It took him long enough to realise he wants to be in this marriage for real, and not just because he was promised millions of dollars if he got married, and he chose the easier way since you were the only woman who’s been around him for so long, — that he now realises he was in love with since his teenage years. It was like a cold shower taken on a scorching day, the type that makes your heart stop for one second and then back to pumping blood quickly with an uneven rhythm.
Secondly, he promised himself, after many days of mulling thoughts in his head, that he’d be more attentive, and that he will try to make things right with you. He’d spend more time with you, as opposed to what he did until now — spending his days with women, too many to count, too many to even remember. And he’s filled with shame every time he remembers how he came home all dirtied up, their kissing marks left all over his body, his clothes stinking of their perfumes, and when he stepped through the front door you were there, waiting for him with dinner and wine, or patiently waiting for him to come home so you could spend some time together like you used to. But he was scared, and it took Jaemin’s shoving to make his brain start working. He’d never meant to hurt you, although he was trying to avoid you every day since that kiss between you two happened, because he thought it was weird. He proposed marriage to you, without any obligations, he never asked you to love him or be faithful to him, and you never asked him either. So why was it so weird? So complicated? He started avoiding you when he realised that maybe you were all he needed after all, and that thought was scary. He jumped head first into this marriage expecting the two of you to live your lives like you were used to doing, and now it seems that he might have done it because it felt right. And it had always been you, and only you.
Going up the stairs two steps at a time, he quickly reaches the upper floor of your shared house, reaching the guest room’s door, where you’ve been sleeping since he screwed up — you made sure to let him know this just earlier.
“Y/n?” He calls your name gently, hoping for you to recognise the vulnerability in his voice. “Y/n, can we talk?” He pleads, knocking slightly on the wooden door.
It creaks open, a puzzled Donghyuck opening it slowly as he looks a bit around the room, expecting you to be in bed or maybe doing some sort of activity you found solace in while avoiding his presence.
But you were nowhere to be found. He takes big steps towards the dressing room, noticing the lights are turned off, and then in a last attempt he tries to look for you on the room’s balcony. But you’re not there, and he’s sure there’s nowhere nearly as cozy and comfortable as this space for you to be hiding. And your shared bedroom is an excluded possibility, because that’s where he’ll be sleeping, and you didn’t want to see his face, it was for sure.
In a last, desperate attempt to find you, he moves quickly towards the bedroom, and he prays to god he’ll find you in there looking through your old clothes and trying them on like you always do every few months, calling him an idiot as soon as you see his face entering the room. But you’re not there either, and he can only sigh, sitting on the bed, thinking of what he can do to find you.
Would it be wise to call Renjun? He’s one of his best friends, but also yours? Renjun would take your side any second, and Donghyuck knows this.
“Let’s not,” he mumbles, throwing the phone across the bed and throwing his back harshly on the hard mattress of your shared bed. He misses you. He missed feeling annoyed by your sleeping figure stretching all over him in search for heat. He misses your perfume, your scent hogging his senses as soon as his head hits your pillow. Your pillow, the one he kept close in his embrace every time you woke earlier than he did. He misses you so much, he needs to feel you randomly giving him a warm embrace.
He can remember the scent of your hair, the one sticking to your skin, and he gets up from the bed to go to your vanity desk to spray a little bit around the room, just so he can find a little bit of comfort before he thinks of where you could be.
He stops in his tracks, sensing there’s something odd going on. Looking around the room, he can’t pinpoint it, but he suddenly feels it in the pit of his stomach.
He looks at your vanity desk, inspecting it from where he’s standing, and he looks for the bottle of your perfume that he loves. And then it hits him. It’s not there. Out of all the perfume bottles, the one you always wore — which he loves, — it’s nowhere to be seen. He jogs to the bathroom attached to your bedroom, hoping that you took it there when you were getting ready to leave, because you’ve done that before. Except, this time you didn’t place it in the bathroom. It’s as spotless as ever, as if no one has ever used it before. Your shower products are still lined nicely in the shower, your skincare products still inside the cabinets hanging on the walls. But not your toothbrush. His is sitting alone in the glass holders where they usually touch each other, as unhygienic as it sounds.
He speeds out of the bathroom, back to your vanity, where he inspects the products laying around. Your preferred perfume is gone, a few make up products missing from the little drawer you had arranged them so nicely in. His eyes dart to the jewellery box sitting on the edge of the desk, and he picks its lid up, inspecting what’s inside. Your usual jewellery is looking right back at his stupid face, as if it was mocking him for freaking out, but he notices some of the expensive jewellery he’s gifted you ever since you two got married, are gone. A bracelet, a few rings, a necklace and a brooch are gone. And then his eyes still on two pieces of jewellery, his heart dropping to his stomach as soon as he recollects his bearings.
Your wedding band and your engagement ring sit mockingly in the corner of the box, as if you had thrown them in without even looking where they landed, without even making sure if they made it inside the box before you sealed it closed.
The thought of you purposefully leaving your rings behind makes him want to hurl, his mind running desperate tireless laps as he tries to understand what’s going on.
And then it dawns on him. You left.
He puts the box back down with gentle hands, and he feels like the ceiling might have collapsed on him with the amount of heaviness he feels in his chest and stomach. Did you really leave? He wants to make sure before he loses his mind, so he checks a few of your drawers and the dressing room adjacent to the bedroom. He can see a few garments missing from each section of the wardrobe, noticing how one of your suitcases is also gone.
Not knowing what to do, he walks back to the bedroom, his hands frantically going through his hair and eyes closing tightly in an attempt to find a way to calm himself down. His eyes so forcefully shut that he starts seeing spots as soon as he opens them again.
He reaches for his phone, trying to look for you through your shared location. “God fucking Dammit,” he exhales when he opens the app.
You went as far as turning your location services off on all your devices, which you’ve never done before, not since he taught you how to turn them on ten years ago.
He dials your number in a miserable attempt to get a hold of you, but it goes to voicemail almost immediately. “Please pick up,” He doesn’t want to give up, so he dials your number a few more times before he gives in and leaves a message on your voicemail.
“Y/n, it’s me, please pick up,” and after five minutes of hopeful waiting, that maybe you’ll reach out to him out of pity more than anything else, he tries again.
“Y/n, it’s me, Hyuck,” he can feel his voice full of uncertainty. He clears his throat, “Where are you? I came home earlier wanting to talk, but I can’t find you anywhere, please call me back,”
An hour of waiting for you to give him a small sign, he feels like he’s losing his mind going back and forth in this damned bedroom.
“Y/n, please come home. At least call me back, tell me you’re safe. Please, please Y/n, call me back” he whispers into the phone before it gets cut off.
Donghyuck feels a tight knot forming in his stomach, only the thought of you not being safe makes him despise himself. If anything happened to you while being away because of him, he would never be able to forgive himself for doing this to you.
Noticing how time flew by, he checks his phone once again, even if you sent him a dry text he’d be happy because he’d know you’re safe enough to check your phone. There aren’t many places Donghyuck knows you’d choose as a safe place trying to put some space between the two of you, but he thinks of one where you could be at right now, and he quickly runs down the stairs and snatches his car keys, so distressed that he forgets to grab his coat.
There’s only one place where you could be, and he needs to see for himself.
“What are you doing here?” Renjun opens the door slightly, but then fully opens it for his friend to step in. “Not only did you steal my best friend, the one who was supposed to marry me at thirty-five in case we didn’t find anyone to get married to, but you’re now attempting to steal my time too,” he rolls his eyes at the man standing in front of him.
“Steal your future wife?” Donghyuck frowns for a few seconds, processing what Renjun said. “What if she was the one stealing your future husband? What, Renjun, wasn’t I good enough for you?” Donghyuck touches his chest where his heart is, tsk-ing his disapproval with fake annoyance.
“Your ways of causing me disgust are always unbelievable,” Renjun fake gags, crossing his arms.
“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment,” Donghyuck sends a flying kiss, and Renjun is glad that they’re not standing next to each other right now because the two of them are close enough for Renjun to know that his friend would attempt to kiss him on any spot of his face that he can reach.
Donghyuck quickly drops the banter, curiously looking around the room, trying to find any of your objects that you could have carelessly left behind when he dropped by. In his head, you’re here somewhere, hiding from him. He hopes you are, and even if you came out and kicked him out the door, he’d be grateful because that way he’d know you are in a place where you are safe and sound.
And Renjun can’t help but notice Donghyuck’s dishevelled look, the locks on his head messily pointing in different directions, and of course there was the fact that he isn’t wearing a coat. He observes the way his friend’s eyes dart back and forth between various surfaces of his living room, and the way Donghyuck’s hands reach behind his head in an unconscious motion.
“So,” Renjun begins, “What’s wrong?”
“What do you mean?” Donghyuck half laughs.
“I’m not dumb. You’re my best friends and you’re married to each other. You haven’t pestered me with stupid memes in the past days, and I’ve only heard from Y/n a couple of times,” he sees his friend’s face lighten up at the mention of your name, “So what did you do?”
“Why do you assume I’m the one in the wrong here?”
Renjun scoffs, his friend’s almost offended tone not being that well received.
“You always do shit to hurt Y/n, so excuse me for giving her the benefit of the doubt,”
“What do you mean?” Donghyuck asks again, this time sober.
Renjun sighs, “I had to waltz around the two of you for a very long time, I lived with the two of you before,” he frowns, moving his hand between himself and Donghyuck, “I had to witness times when you hurt her feelings, maybe unknowingly, I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt, but you did nonetheless. I had to pick up pieces you stepped on carelessly, while she gave herself to you on a silver platter. No, pardon me, a golden platter. Your sleeping around, your mindless jokes about it, your little remarks that played with her heart every time you complimented her while making promises to her, and the way she believed you without any second thoughts as if you wouldn’t forget about her and the promises made to her an hour later.” Renjun inhales sharply, recognising how he’s getting worked up, but these are things he’s been dying to say to his friend, and now is the perfect time to do so.
“Don’t act dumb, Hyuck, I was there and I saw it all happen right before my eyes. Every time you promised her the sun, you left her hanging in the air, looking for you yet you were unreachable, avoiding her. I had to mend the pieces you fucked with, every single time. That’s why I was afraid when she told us she’d be getting married to you so suddenly and out of nowhere. I was scared for her wellbeing,” Renjun gulps, crossing his arms once again.
“So, whatever you did this time, I don’t care. I won’t help you in any way. I want her to be well and happy, and if she’ll reach out to me, I’ll be there for her. But you need to get your shit sorted, before it’s too late. If it isn’t already,”
Donghyuck inhales sharply, trying to digest every piece of information he’s found out from Renjun, on which he’ll mull over later when his nerves might calm down.
“Okay,” he surrenders, “I am getting my shit together, Renjun. I have been for the past few days,”
“It’s not long enough. A few days of meditating on your shitty actions won’t erase your wrongdoings,”
“I know, and that’s why I’m working on it, I’m doing this for her,” he starts taking a few steps towards the door, when he turns back to face Renjun, “If she calls you, just tell her to call me, please. I want her to be safe,” the sad look in his eyes are a sight Renjun never thought he’d see, especially from Donghyuck.
“I’ll see you around,” and with that, he gently closes the front door behind himself.
A few days pass, and Donghyuck has made an obsession with checking if you turned your location on again. You haven’t reached out to him, and neither did Renjun. He hopes that his friend would be considerate enough to reach out to him if he ever found out anything about you, but he’s left hanging.
He hasn’t been able to eat much, only a few bites so as not to get stomach aches from hunger. He already had stomach aches just thinking about not having a clue about your whereabouts, he didn’t want to end up on a hospital bed because he couldn’t take a fucking nibble. The bottles of liquor and alcohol the two of you had agreed on keeping on a neat bar shelf in the corner of your living room were almost empty. He’s never felt more distraught, and the liquor only helped numbing his thoughts for a short amount of time, for they all came back to his mind as soon as he woke up from his drunken naps. Donghyuck hasn’t been able to sleep much either, that’s mainly why he drained almost every bottle of hard liquor in the house. He doesn’t want to forget anything about you, but his brain is his biggest enemy these days, and the only thing that can help him out is the thought that maybe, after the alcohol numbs him real good and puts him to sleep, he’ll wake up to you standing in front of him, holding him tight and telling him you forgive him and you want things to work out. Because he can do this, he can do anything you’d ask him, he can make this work. He loves you.
He left you more voicemails and texts, and all went unanswered. By the time the alcohol’s effects wore off, his muscles were already starting to ache from the countless times he fell asleep on the big carpet downstairs, on which he chose to rest in hopes of hearing your keys opening the front door. He was like a sick puppy. Waiting for the owner of his heart to come back home, because he knows you’ll eventually come back. He hopes, at least.
He stands to his feet, taking the empty bottle outside and sitting it carefully inside the bin, as to not make too much noise. His head feels like it’s being split in half, and his muscles beg for a hot shower, which he gladly plans to take after popping two advils from the medicine cabinet in one of the bathrooms downstairs.
After using his favourite scent out of all your shower gel bottles lined up in the shower, he wraps a towel around his waist, walking back to the bedroom to pick up his phone. Your location is still off, and he decides to leave another voicemail for you, because if there’s any possibility of you listening to these voicemails, he wants to be sure he made everything in his power to reach out to you and make you realise how serious he is about everything.
One hand on his hip, while his teeth nibble on his bottom lip, he dials your number, waiting for the call to go to voicemail. Except this time the call goes through, ringing in his ears.
“Hello?” A male voice answers, and Donghyuck has to take a quick look at the phone’s screen to make sure he didn’t dial someone else.
This is your number.
“Y/n?” He inquires, a deep frown forming on his smooth forehead.
“Oh, Y/n’s in the shower right now, can I take a message?”
Donghyuck feels his throat run dry, and sharply exhales in an attempt to calm himself before he can regret anything that might come out of his mouth. Not only is the thought of your leaving destroying him, but to hear another man answering your phone might be the last thing he does before he goes insane.
Who the fuck is it? Who is this man? He can't help but ask himself. Who is it? Is it a friend of mine? But he doesn’t recognise the voice.
“Hello?” The voice on the other line rings in his ears, “Are you still there?”
“And who are you?” Donghyuck rasps, his voice raw with anger.
“Erm,” Donghyuck can feel uncertainty in the man’s tone, “I’m Sungchan. Can I take a message for Y/n?”
The mention of your name out of his mouth makes Donghyuck see red before his eyes.
“Yes, Sungchan,” Donghyuck spits out with anger, “Can you tell Y/n to call home as soon as possible? This is her husband, Donghyuck, by the way,” after which he hangs up, throwing the phone across the room, not even bothering to pick it up again.
You get out of the shower, stepping on the hotel’s slippers, feeling refreshed after getting rid of the sweat residues on your skin, when you feel a knock on the bathroom door. You open it wide, seeing a frowning Sungchan leaning on the doorframe, clearly bothered by something.
“Sungchan?” You ask, combing your fingers through your wet hair. “Is everything okay?”
You see him giving you a conflicted look, and he bites on his lip. “Your husband called. Why didn’t you tell me that you’re married?” He asks you, and you think the sky falls suddenly. It would be easier if he wasn’t looking at you right now, but his gaze is piercing, cold, and hurt.
“What?” You ask, but not because you didn’t hear it the first time, but because you need time to think how to explain everything to him.
Yes, you omitted this detail when you hooked up with Sungchan the first time, but it’s not like he deliberately asked you, ‘are you married?’. You and him were on the same flight to Chicago. You liked the attention he gave you at the airport, and he offered to show you around if you didn’t already have an itinerary planned out. So you accepted, and between some museums, jazz bars, and nice restaurants, you found yourself in bed with him.
With him, you got rid of all the stress you accumulated in the past months, and for the first time in years you even felt loved and appreciated.
Apart from the shame and regret of not being genuine with Sungchan from the very beginning that’s eating at you, there’s also the way he’s looking at you right now. Betrayed, hurt, on the verge of tears.
How did Donghyuck’s hurting lead you into hurting other people? You knew Sungchan likes you, because he explicitly told you so, so why did you have to pull the same card your husband played on you?
“Sungchan,” you start, but no words can make up for the damage already done, because he pushes away from the doorway, going back to look for his clothes.
“I don’t want to hear it,” his voice trembles, sliding the pair of jeans on his long legs. “I can’t believe you did this to me,” he’s mostly talking to himself, and you’re left in the corner of the room in your towel only, watching as he gathers his things from your hotel room.
“Never look for me again,” he walks past you, towards the door, not looking at you even once, “Go back to your husband, Y/n,”
And of course, what other fucking choice do you have?
You push your trolley through the entrance hallway, leaving it at the foot of the staircase, making your way towards the living room. You enter the room, empty and messy, and you can see that Donghyuck has been spending more time at home now than he did before. His clothes are scattered on the couch, a sock is thrown carelessly behind one of the houseplants while the other is resting under the coffee table. He’s not here, but you can sense the smell of steak, and you can hear him humming something in the other room.
You enter the kitchen, that’s empty and messy, and then you hear Donghyuck’s voice ring a bit louder in your ears. You walk around the kitchen island, sliding the kitchen door open and you exit on the patio, scaring Donghyuck.
He’s grilling steak on the patio, dancing around with a huge grilling fork, getting scared when he heard the door slide shut behind you.
“You’re home, baby,” he uses his saccharine voice, and you throw your phone on the wooden table next to the grill.
“Cut the crap,” you snarl, pulling a chair to sit, and you plop down while pointing at your phone, “I called you, you didn’t pick up,” you bite on your cheek, in a desperate attempt to keep your cool and not blow this fucking patio up.
“I didn’t pick up, nope” he makes a popping sound at the end, using a piece of cardboard to vent the meat on the grill.
“Then why all the voicemails pleading me to call you back? If you can’t fucking pick up?” You bark, but he doesn’t flinch at your tone.
“I didn’t pick up because I broke it,” he explains calmly before turning around to look at you, “I sort of got upset after a phone call. How’s your friend, by the way? Sungchan, was it?” He asks, his tone dripping with sarcasm.
“Do not fucking say his name,” you threaten, looking at him like you’re ready to jump him.
“Do not fucking look at me like that, Y/n” he threatens back, placing his hands on the wooden table. “I’m you fucking husband!” He raises his voice.
“And I’m your fucking wife!” You scream at him, while standing to your feet. Your nose is flaring with anger, and when your gaze meets his you feel the familiar suffocating lump in your throat. “In the last year, how many times did you consider yourself to be my husband?” You ask accusingly, pointing a finger in his direction. “How many times did you think you had a wife waiting for you at home, when you were with other women?” You cry out, biting on your lip in order to not let all the sobs run past your lips. “How many times, Donghyuck, did I turn a blind eye on your indiscretions? The times you came back home smelling like other women, marks on your skin, the amount of times you didn’t come home for long periods of time?”
“So you think you’re better than me if you just run away with another man?” He raises his voice at you once again, slamming a hand on the wooden table.
You’re honestly appalled at how he’s trying to turn this on you.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” You ask calmly, your tears not flowing anymore. “You’re trying to blame me but you don’t see the root of the problem here. So it’s okay for you to do it for months, and then when I do it once it’s suddenly a problem?” You can’t look at him any more, feeling too upset to even spare him a glance.
You notice the alcohol bottles sitting around the bin, and you suppose they’re there because the bin is already full.
“Are you drunk?” You ask in disbelief. You swear he seemed sober when he shouted at you just a few minutes ago.
“Do I look like I’m fucking drunk right now?” He asks exasperated. “Not now anyway, but I did drink waiting for your fucking call, Y/n” he points the grilling fork in your direction, as if he’s accusing you of something. “I waited, and I waited, and I waited for you call, but you just ignored me. You come home one day telling me that you don’t care who I’m with just for you to secretly leave to get with another man. What kind of pure and innocent role are you playing, Y/n? Telling me it’s alright just so you have your peace of mind while doing the same thing I do, because you thought you laid your cards on the table and allowing me to do it would exempt you from guilt?” He accuses you with an extremely calm tone.
“I’m sorry I hurt you, Y/n, but what was I supposed to do? You left your fucking rings at home and took off!” He shouts again, and you realise you’ve never had a fight this intense with Donghyuck, with so much shouting. You don’t even think you’ve heard Donghyuck’s shout except for the one he lets out when he’s trying to be funny. Two completely different tones.
“So what? You kept your ring on when you were fucking around?” You bite back, and he doesn’t say anything else.
You decide there’s no way you want to continue the fight. At this point you’re not sure if whatever you and Donghyuck have is worth fighting for. You turn around, not even looking at him again, and go towards the staircase to go to your room.
“Where are you going? Y/n?” He comes after you, calling your name and trying to grab you by the arm, “I made steak!”
“You can shove it up you ass!” You retort, getting out of his grasp, going up on the stairs and leaving him like a lost puppy.
You sit on the carpet at the foot of your bed, not even bothering to turn the lights on. You know you want to be alone right now, but you know that you’d rather be alone in this huge house instead of having Donghyuck downstairs.
You feel like the love you carry for Donghyuck is consuming you, and there’s nothing you can do about it. He can be the biggest idiot in this world and you would still love him. He can be the one to have a huge screaming match with and you’d still forgive him, and love him. Your pain is amplified when you recall the fight you two just had, because everything he said earlier is true. You told him to do whatever he wants because you knew you could go find solace in Sungchan's presence, you wouldn’t be alone anymore, and you could start doing whatever Donghyuck was doing without thinking twice. Just like he did. And what pains you the most is the fact that he made it sound like you were the one who cheated on him first.
And okay, you’re technically not together. But would it be so hard for him to acknowledge you once in a while? Would it be hard for him to stop thinking with his dick and just open his eyes to see that you’re right here, everything he would ask for, you’d give him on a golden platter. But again, maybe he doesn’t feel the same way towards you, and it’s better not to know this instead of having your feelings hurt to a point of no return.
And Sungchan. That poor soul. You feel so sorry for treating him like this, and you feel even worst for making him feel the same way Donghyuck has made you feel up to this point. Sungchan left so abruptly that you didn’t have the chance to tell him the truth. Yes, your husband called, but guess what? He’s not really your husband. It sounds pathetic. You wish you could at lest have told him the truth, about the nature of the relationship between you and Donghyuck, but you guess you had it coming — because not once did you think about bringing your marriage, albeit fake, up to Sungchan, and you had more occasions than you can count on two hands.
You feel conflicted. You feel like the best thing for you would be getting away from Donghyuck as soon as possible. He brings out the worst side of you. The jealous, possessive side, that really has no business existing. Because it’s a fake one, this marriage shouldn’t make you feel like a miserable fool. It shouldn’t affect you the way it does, you’ve only known sadness and jealousy in the past months and it’s really not fair, not when Donghyuck doesn’t care about you and your marriage as much as you do. But at the same time, even if you think it’s best to get away, you just can’t. You’re so used to being with Donghyuck that he has become a part of you, and walking away from him would feel like walking around with just one leg instead of two.
You’re sobbing into your own hands, feeling like the world just collapsed, and you don’t sense Donghyuck coming up the stairs towards your room.
“Y/n, I want to talk,” he opens the door just slightly, waiting for you to say something, but he doesn’t hear an answer, “Can we talk?”
“Go away,” You scoff, raising your head from your hands, bringing your knees to your chest. You notice him stepping carefully inside the room, the light on the hallway brightening your room just a little. He’s carrying your suitcase, the one you left at the foot of the staircase, and he puts it behind the door, before he comes next to you and decides to sit down.
He’s so close you can smell him, even if your nose is stuffy from all the crying. His arm is touching yours, and he brings one of his legs up to imitate your position. You don’t look him in the eye, but your tears keep streaming down your face uncontrollably, and you bite your lip trying not to let the sobs escape you.
He extends one hand, touching the arm closest to him, squeezing slightly.
“Lets talk about this,” he shushes you as soon as you try to reply back, and pats your head with careful gestures, “Come here,” he instructs, and your body responds immediately, like you wouldn’t even need a brain, just Donghyuck to tell you what to do and give out commands for you to follow.
Your face falls in the crook of his neck, and the moment you face touches his skin your tears are unstoppable. He continues to shush you, to tell you to let it all out, to tell you that everything’s okay.
And while you’re in his arms, and he holds you like this, showing you that he does indeed care about you, maybe you believe his words — that everything will be okay, just this once.
“Y/n, I know you can’t talk right now, so I will do the talking, okay?” He asks, but when he doesn’t get a reply back he promptly squeezes your arms to get an answer out of you. Between all the sobs and tears damping his skin and t-shirt, you give him a thumbs up — a sign that he should go on and talk, and it makes him laugh. The beautiful crystalline laugh you love so much.
“I’m so sorry for hurting you, and I know I’ve said this a lot lately but I will keep saying this a lot in the future too. I’m also sorry for talking to you the way I did earlier, raising my voice and pointing my finger when I’m not really the one who should be speaking,” he continues to caress your back while you’re all crouched into his side, your head still glued to the side of his neck. But he doesn’t mind the dampness, he doesn’t mind the sobbing you’re letting out right next to his ear. He doesn’t mind keeping you this close.
“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess, and then making you feel like I don’t appreciate you or like I don’t care about you. Because I do, Y/n. You’d be surprised if you could hear the things my mind is coming up with when I think about you.” He kisses the top of your head, and you feel his breath fanning over your forehead and cheeks for a little while.
“I’m sorry for ruining whatever you had with Sungchan, and I’m sorry to tell you that this last part is a lie. I’m lying Y/n, because knowing you could be happy far and away from me is making me go insane little by little. I’m an idiot for saying this when I’m the one in the wrong here,” he pauses, and you can hear him gulping.
“I need to be completely honest with you, I think I owe you this, and then if you want to walk away you can. You’re free to do whatever you want, you have your share of the money and it’s up to you whatever you decide to do,” you listen to him, holding your breath for a bit while waiting for him to go on, but your tears stopped flowing.
“The day I made breakfast for you, do you remember that?” You nod, stretching an arm across his stomach to get in a more comfortable position — and you really just wanted to hug him, “I was going to have a talk with you. The previous days, when I basically went missing, I reflected on a lot of things and I was ready to ask you if we could try to do this marriage thing for real this time, but you didn’t even let me speak,” he giggles, and once you register all his words your breath is caught in your throat.
“And then you went missing and I was so worried about you, Y/n. Never do that to me again,” he warns you, and you squeeze him tighter out of instinct. “You can do whatever you want Y/n, I mean it. You can forget I said anything about being for real in this marriage, you can decline all my apologies but I’ll forever feel sorry for putting you through this,”
You push yourself up from his body to finally look at him, and he looks at you with big sparkly eyes, touching his chest with his left hand, and you can see his ringed finger shining in the dim lights filtering through from the hallway. You love him, that’s a confirmed fact. Especially now after you got to hear everything he had to say.
“So how are you going to fix this?” You whisper, not really knowing how you should approach this whole situation.
“Do you forgive me?” He asks, his face getting a bit closer to your figure. He gets so close to you that you can smell his cologne perfectly once again.
“I do, but” you whisper, and you can sense he’s holding his breath, “did you mean it, what you said about doing this,” you point between the two of you, “doing it for real?”
“Yes,” he answers with no hesitation, “I meant everything I said,”
“So let me ask again,” you get closer to his face, smirking as you can feel his breath fanning over your face once again, but this time you look him in the eye, “how are you going to fix this?”
“I have a few ways,” he smirks at you, taking the bait you’ve just thrown him.
Everything happens really fast. You don’t have time to register the moment he seals his lips over yours, kissing you fervently as he gently grasps the side of your neck to bring you closer. You snicker as you feel his lips eagerly moving on top of yours, and your poor attempt at trying to gasp for air is swallowed by his relentless warm lips.
He breaks the kiss, giving you both a chance to breathe, and he stands to his feet, dragging you with him. His lips capture yours once again, but this time he doesn’t lose any more time, his tongue sliding carefully on your bottom lip, asking for your permission. You grant it almost immediately, and he moans into the kiss as soon as his tongue waltzes with yours, his plump lips sucking on your tongue before releasing it with a pop sound, and going back to nibble on your bottom lip.
He lets your lips go once again, grabbing a strand of your hair to play with.
“I’ve wanted to be like this for a long time,” he mumbles, looking at the strand he’s holding between his fingers, “Will you let me take care of you, Y/n?” He rasps, and the look you give him is enough for him to understand your answer. “Lay down for me,” he instructs, pushing you slightly until the back of your knees touch the mattress, and you follow his orders.
He sets himself on top of you, and you wrap your legs around his waist out of instinct. His hands reach for your waistline, roaming carefully towards your hips, where he stops to squeeze tenderly. He leans forward once again, but this time he catches your lips in a sweet, short kiss, repeating the action a few times before moving his juicy lips to your jaw, nibbling on your neck as he moves his ministrations further and further down.
You stifle a moan when his hot mouth reaches the neckline of your top that’s barely covering your breasts now that you’re laying down. Once again, Donghyuck puts his tongue to work, making the wet muscle trace the neckline, leaving wet smears across your hot skin.
His hands reach for the hem of your top, raising it higher on your torso up to your bust. His cold fingertips massage the delicate and silky skin up from your lower abdomen all the way to the underside of your breasts, where the underband of your bra is sticking uncomfortably to your skin.
“Let’s take this off, baby,” he commands, pulling on the fabric that’s covering your bra.
You comply to his orders, getting rid of the top as efficiently as possible, and you hear Donghyuck sucking his teeth, his head hanging low once again to be on the same level as your chest. He continues his actions, tracing his tongue around the cups of your bra, returning to the middle of your chest, where he presses his wet lips on the delicate spot between your tits, proceeding to lick a stripe all the way to your neck and jaw. He captures your lips in a smooth kiss, moving greedily trying to savour every little sound and breathy moans you let out. Your hands reach for his head, your fingers comb through his hair, fingertips massaging his scalp, and he can’t help but moan into your touch. The sound gets swallowed by your mouth moving confidently over his, sucking on his tongue, taking everything he’s willing to give you.
He breaks the kiss, holding a mischievous look in his gaze, instructing you to get rid of your bra and jeans while he gets up on his knees to get rid of his t-shirt. With his tanned, toned arms and abdomen on display, you reach out to get a chance to touch and trace his soft skin, but he slaps your hands away and leans forward towards your stomach, on which he places short, open mouth kisses all the way to the band of your panties.
He kneels at the foot of the bed, dragging you by your hips towards himself, and holds your legs together before leaning in onto your clothed core. The action has you moaning, and he keeps moving his nose against the crotch of the underwear in repeated motions, his nose bumping against your clit every single time, and it sends a tingling sensation throughout your body, pleasure bubbling fast in your lower stomach.
“Hyuck,” you moan his name, not thinking you can resist his actions much longer.
He smiles hearing you moaning his name, but decides to halt his actions nonetheless. He grabs your panties and pulls them down, the cold air in the room making contact with your wet folds. He folds your wet underwear carelessly and shoves them in the front pocket of his sweats, leaning forward for his mouth to start moving slowly on your core. His plump lips suck on your clit gently, twirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. Your pussy clenches around nothing, his relentless actions building the pressure in your muscles, and you’re approaching your release fast, your hip buck into his mouth, chasing the delicious pleasure you’re about to be rewarded with soon.
Donghyuck can feel his dick hard and throbbing in his boxers, but he doesn’t touch himself — he'd rather wait to be touched by you.
“That’s it, baby,” he moans with his mouth still glued to your core, his tongue licking long stripes along your entrance and clit, stopping to show extra care to the latter. And the pet name on his lips is everything you needed in order to cum.
His dick throbs hearing the sounds you make while you cum, his name on your lips feels like a mantra, like a chant full of praise, music to his ears.
“You’re insane,” you breathe out, grabbing him by the hair to detach him from your core when he doesn’t seem to have any faint intention of stopping his laps on your clit.
“You haven’t even seen half of it yet,” he grins and smirks, his chin glistens with a mix of your arousal and release. He licks his lips, deciding to cut you some slack until you come down from your high.
You look at him, and you lick your lips seeing his grey sweats hanging low on his tanned hips, a wet patch placed in the front on his crotch, indicating his arousal.
You pull him closer to you, latching your lips with his, sucking and pulling on his bottom lip, tasting yourself off his lips as his mouth moves rhythmically against yours.
You push him slightly off you, instructing him to get on the bed. You look at his figure again. What a great day to be wearing sweats, you think.
“Get these off for me,” you say, but it sounds more like a question. He giggles, but complies without having to be asked twice. He gets his boxers off of the way at the same time with his sweats, his dick falling heavy on his abdomen. You take a look at his cock, licking your lips unconsciously as you stare at the veins stretching along his length, precum leaking from his rosy tip. You reach for it, your palm aching to stroke him before you get a taste of him. But Donghyuck has other plans.
“Want you on my cock,” he grunts, bucking his hips up in your hand as soon as it wraps around his shaft, “Think you can ride me, baby?” He asks, and you’re more than eager to do it if it means seeing him so dishevelled underneath you, and you’re the cause.
You nod, and he extends one hand to help you keep your balance as you bring your weight on top of his lap, waiting for him to line his shaft with your entrance. His tip enters you and you have to stop for a bit to adjust to the girth. You sink lower on top of his shaft, your pussy throbbing around it, and Donghyuck has to suck a breath through his teeth and pray to god you won’t take long to get used to his size. You’re so tight, Donghyuck is too excited to last for too long, he knows this already.
You start riding him, your juices are enough for his shaft to slide in and out of you with ease, and one of his hands reaches up to your chest to grab one of your nipples between his fingers, twisting it and putting the right amount of pressure that gets a whimper out of you.
His mouth latches to your other nipple, sucking on it, his tongue swirls around the teat bringing a new wave of pleasure that has you arching your back and temporarily halting your rhythmic movements on top of Donghyuck’s shaft. Moaning, he sucks harsher on your nipple when he feels you stopping, so you resume your movements even if you can feel your thighs burning. A new wave of pleasure runs through your body when you hear his moans against the frail skin of your chest, one of his hands placed on the small of your back trying to guide your movements as he can sense you’re tired.
“Feels so fucking good,” he moans, looking up at you. You’re looking at him briefly, then you push him slightly to get him to lay down. You bring a pretty manicured hand up to his chest, steadying yourself as you keep your relentless and delicious moving of your hips against his. You mewl out a moan as your clit hits the base of his cock, and your head falls back making your hair bounce around yourself.
His body feels on fire, his heartbeat picking up its rhythm. “I think —” you hear him start, but is interrupted by one of your raw moans. “I love you,” he blurts out, and hearing those words coming out of his mouth makes the tension in your tummy burst, and the rhythm of your hips starts faltering. He grabs your arms with force and brings your upper body on top of his, your chests clashing on top of each other’s as he searches for your lips.
He needs them like he needs air, especially after the words that slipped past his lips. He pulls you closer, one hand grabbing your waist to keep you in place as his hips start bucking up inside of you, and another hand keeping your head in the crook of his neck as you still ride your orgasm. He chases his own climax, and the relentless throbbing of your pussy around his shaft as you ride your orgasm helps him burst deep inside of you, moaning out your name as he holds your body tightly.
You stay in his embrace a little longer, until the clarity starts hitting you, replaying the last moments in your mind. You fall next to Donghyuck, your head still resting on his shoulder, a leg still stretched on his stomach as you both try regaining your bearings.
You raise your head to look at him, only to find him already looking down at you.
“Did you really say you loved me?” You enquire, believing that’s a figment of your imagination.
“I did,” he whispers back, unmoving while keeping you close to him, his eyes big and sparkly.
“But isn’t it —“ you make a pause, trying to find the right words, “too soon? How do I know that you really mean it?”
“How do you know?” He repeats slowly, and then averts his gaze to look around the room for a few seconds. He sits up, getting off the bed, coming to your side of the bed so he can face you properly.
“What are you doing?” You ask, looking at him quizzically, trying to understand what goes on in that mind of his.
“Shut up, I’m about to do the most pathetic and embarrassing thing just for you,” he pouts at you, grabbing your arm and dragging you out of bed, “I need you to stand in front of me otherwise it won’t be embarrassing enough,”
“Seriously Hyuck, what the fuck is wrong with you?” You sigh, and you look at your naked silhouettes standing in front of each other like a pair of sims in the making.
“I have my flaws, and you know the already. I did a lot of shitty stuff to you, and I apologised for all. But you also have to remember…” he leaves the sentence up in the air for a bit, “That I’m also just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him,” he finishes his monologue, waiting for your reaction.
At first, you're speechless. Then the moment sinks in, and you can’t help but let a surprised laugh escape you as you reach for him.
You grab his face, bringing him closer to you to give him a quick peck on the lips.
“I love you too,” you let him know, but there’s a glint in your eyes that lets him know you’re never going to let him live this moment down, and he braces himself for impact, “But please never pull an Anna Scott on me, ever again!”
AUTHOR'S NOTE: i loved writing this, i am emotionally attached to this story now T-T i love hyuck and i hope reading this was worth your time. feedback and engagement is always recommended and highly appreciated! thank you guys for signing up for the taglist and reading this piece <3 and you might have already guessed, but sungchan's instalment is related to the female oc (reader) in this, but more will come out with his teaser. if you have questions about this fic, my ask box is always open!
pairing: grad student!haechan x grad student!reader
genre: fluff, slight angst
word count: 10.2k
synopsis: academic validation and beating lee donghyuck are your only motivations in life. spoiler alert: you end up achieving only one of the two.
author’s note: this was supposed to be released for holo LMAO better late than never? anyways ladies this is fiction <3 do NOT ever give a male english major the time of day - signed an english major (p.s. i mention christmas exactly one time in this so this counts as a holiday fic)
warning(s): sexism in academia, brief descriptions of sexual harassment
playlist: rose-colored boy by paramore ― enemies by lauv ― always, everytime by the wrecks ― let it happen by gracie abrams ― running home by jade lemac
Act I) And when I close my eyes, I see you for who you truly are, which is UUUG-LAY.
When it comes to receiving bad news, you would consider yourself pretty good at handling it. You’ve always been the type to compartmentalize and try to find the most rational way to react. Having such an analytical personality is part of the reason why you decided to pursue an English degree in college. Sure, some may consider you cold and elitist, but to that you respond―well, yes!
That being said, you’re about 30 seconds away from hurling up your breakfast burrito and $8 matcha latte in a projectile fashion.
You stare at Dr. Min, the Program Director of the English Department and your mentor, like she just dropkicked you in the gut. Normally, your mouth would be agape with despair and horror, but you smartly keep your lips sealed tight due to previously mentioned urge to spill chunks all over her pristine office.
The situation is worsened by the fact that there is a creature standing right beside you, looking only slightly disgruntled. Like he just received a cup of cold coffee level of disgruntled. As if Dr. Min didn’t just casually destroy your entire world.
The creature goes by the name of Lee Donghyuck. He’s barely a human, simply masquerading as one with his fluffy hair and glowy skin. Rather, he’s just a walking, talking literary reference to the most pretentious authors ever. His sole reason for existence is to compete with you for teacher’s pet. The two of you have been vying for Dr. Min’s attention since you both got into grad school. More specifically, you both have been competing for the eventual letter of recommendation that you’ll need from her in order to get into the highly prestigious PhD program. She’s super selective of who she will write the letter for, so you and Donghyuck essentially have been in a constant WWE brawl to kiss her ass.
“Two graduate faculty members are on sabbatical, so the amount of staff available to vote on your papers are an even number,” Dr. Min had explained, “Hence, why we’re in this situation. You both have the same amount of votes.”
“Can’t you just be the tiebreaker, Dr. Min?” Donghyuck asks, carding a hand through his brown hair. It’s still tinted a light purple hue from when he dyed it to cosplay Rafayel from Love and Deepspace for Halloween. Yes, he does play a gacha dating sim about random men who look AI-generated. Of his many sins, this is low on your list.
Dr. Min shakes her head, smiling apologetically. “You know I always abstain from voting when it comes to my mentees’ papers.”
“So, what’s going to happen now? Which one of us will be going to the symposium?” you ask, finally managing to gather yourself and speak up. Despite your best efforts, you feel another wave of nausea hit you when Dr. Min glances your way. There’s something about the way she’s so poised and collected that always makes you think she’s silently judging you.
“That’s what I’ve called you both here for,” she trails off, clapping her hands together. “I’ve decided that, for the first time in this university’s history, we will be sending two representatives to the annual Shakespeare Scholars Research Symposium!”
Dr. Min pauses, most likely expecting celebratory cheers from the two of you. However, she’s met with stone-cold silence. You and Donghyuck just stand there stiffly, arms hanging limp by your sides and faces scrunched like you just ate the dog food flavored jelly bean from the BeanBoozled game.
“Don’t get too excited, now,” Dr. Min jokes awkwardly. “Why the doom and gloom?”
“But…our papers are way too similar. It wouldn’t make sense for both of us to go,” you protest.
As much as you hate to admit it, you and Donghyuck are often interested in the same topics and themes when it comes to your research papers. This time is also no exception. For this paper, you decided to write about the female empowerment in the classic 1999 romcom 10 Things I Hate About You compared to the original source material, Shakespeare’s The Taming of the Shrew. Meanwhile, Donghyuck (because he’s incapable of not riding on your coattails) decided to write about gender identity in the classic 2006 romcom She’s the Man compared to Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night.
“Well, the concepts are certainly similar, but the actual content is different,” Dr. Min replies, “Besides, I think we need more pop culture in academia.”
When you and Donghyuck fail to respond again, she huffs. “Come on, you guys! I know the two of you are competitive, but it’s a wonderful opportunity. This is going to look amazing on your CV when you apply for the PhD program.”
The mention of the PhD program makes you and Donghyuck perk up like meerkats, and you know Dr. Min did it on purpose.
“Thank you so much for the opportunity, Dr. Min. We would be happy to represent the university together,” Donghyuck quickly says, putting on the fakest smile you’ve ever seen. His eyes sparkle in a way that reminds you of those shiny plastic dolls that end up having a demonic spirit in them. Then he looks over at you and beams through grit teeth, “Wouldn’t we?”
A fake smile of your own slowly spreads across your face like paralyzing venom as you glare at Donghyuck. “Yes, of course.”
“Good.” Dr. Min nods, satisfied. “I’m glad to see that you two are getting along better. I’ll see you on Friday at the airport, bright and early.”
You and Donghyuck say your goodbyes to her before marching out of her office like the twins from The Shining. The moment the door closes behind you, the two of you recoil from each other like being within 6 feet of one another will make your skin melt off. You both start speedwalking to the exit of the building at the same pace, completely parallel to each other on opposite sides of the hallway.
“You are such a two-faced liar,” you hiss in a hushed whisper, “Always making me look like the difficult one while you’re all happy-go-lucky, kumbaya.”
“Well, if it always looks like it, then maybe it’s the case, don’t you think?” Donghyuck sweetly retorts.
“Ooh, burn,” you say sarcastically, “Your words might actually have some merit if there wasn’t steam coming off the top of your overinflated, egoistic head. I know you’re just as pissed about this as I am.”
“Oh, Y/N. You are always so shortsighted,” Donghyuck sighs dramatically, shaking his head. “Don’t you see the bigger picture?
“Oh, this will be good,” you say wryly, crossing your arms and waiting for him to continue.
“Elementary, my dear Watson―” he starts.
“Doyle never wrote that line―” you quickly interrupt.
He rolls his eyes. “You don’t deserve to be Watson. You’re Moriarty.”
“Why do I feel like I have to go through the Labors of Hercules in order for you to get to your point whenever I talk to you?” you demand.
“As I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me, this symposium will be a great opportunity to settle this once and for all. You know they always give out a Best Research Paper award at the end. We may have tied today, but our tiebreaker can be that award. Whoever wins gets the recommendation letter from Dr. Min,” Donghyuck smugly explains.
“You know, maybe there’s not just Helium in that skull of yours,” you smile, “I think that’s a great idea. I suppose a broken clock is right twice a day. ”
“You are so eloquent when it comes to insulting me, yet I don’t see any of that fire in your actual writing?” Donghyuck questions, blinking innocently.
“Oh, I’ll show you―”
You’re just about to rattle off another one of your eloquent insults when a loud howl of wind from the outside interrupts you, making the two of you jolt. Just as you reach the doors to the building, you see through the glass that the sky is a smoky, hazy gray. Rain is starting to fall, and it looks like it's about to become a torrential downpour in a little bit.
You curse under your breath, thinking about your five minute walk to the bus station and whether or not you can beat out the thunderstorm.
“Well, this certainly has to be a bad omen,” Donghyuck says unhelpfully.
You jerk your head towards him and jab a finger in his direction. “This isn’t over. I have to catch the bus before I get waterboarded by this rain. I’ll deal with you on Friday. Until then, stay out of my sight.”
Donghyuck shrugs, fishing out an umbrella from his backpack. Because of course he needs to flaunt the fact that he has an umbrella and you don’t.
“Sounds good to me,” he replies casually.
Steeling yourself for the rain and wind to pelt your face, you open the door in one fell swoop and walk outside―except you’re not getting wet because Donghyuck is trailing behind you and holding his umbrella above your head.
“Uh, why are you following me?” you ask as he moves to walk beside you, even though you know his car is parked in the opposite direction.
“Curb your main character syndrome, Y/N. I have somewhere to be, and it happens to be in the same direction,” he sighs.
“Where?” you probe, suspicious.
“I don’t believe that’s any of your business,” he answers snottily.
“Then why are you sharing your umbrella with me? Did you get visited by three ghosts on Christmas?” you demand.
“Is it really sharing if you’re just standing next to me and happen to be in the radius of my umbrella?” he ponders.
“You’re like a bridge troll that asks people three riddles before letting them pass,” you sigh.
“Please. As if you could ever solve my riddles.”
You respond by flipping him off, and he just grins.
The two of you walk the rest of the way in silence, the sounds of the rain growing heavier and cars speeding by serving as your only background noise. Occasionally, his elbow bumps your arm due to your proximity to each other. The mixture of the thick humidity in the air and the drifting scent of his fabric softener makes your head swim.
When you make it to the bus station, you don’t say bye to him, nor does he say it to you. Instead, he swiftly turns on his heel and walks back. He doesn’t look back at you either, so your eyes linger on his back for just a tad longer than they should.
You notice that one of his shoulders is damp, the sleeve of his shirt sticking to his skin, as raindrops roll down his arm.
Act II) Ooh, see that, there. Who needs affection when I have blind hatred?
Donghyuck is being eerily quiet this morning, and it’s starting to unnerve you.
He didn’t even jump at the opportunity to compliment Dr. Min’s new haircut (that she got specifically for this conference) the moment she arrived at the airport. When the three of you walked over to the security check line, he just stood there, thumbs tucked underneath the straps of his backpack as he bounced on the balls of his feet. If he heard even a second of the conversation you and Dr. Min were having, he gave no indication of it.
He’s never this silent unless he’s scheming something.
At one point, you started eyeing the security cameras nearby to see if you had accidentally gotten yourself on a prank show. As if this was all an elaborate setup by Donghyuck in order to humiliate you, and you weren’t going to the symposium after all. For a brief moment, you imagine Dr. Min also being in on the ruse and laughing with him about how awful your paper was and how funny it is that you actually thought you had a chance.
Maybe your therapist was right about you having paranoia issues.
Your delusions begin taking over your mind until you finally can’t take it anymore. Once the two of you get situated on the plane (Dr. Min got put up in first class, and you and Donghyuck were relegated to economy as lowly grad students), you finally ask:
“Okay, what is your problem? You’re acting weird―er than usual.”
Donghyuck is looking straight ahead, peering at the folded tray table on the seat in front of him. It takes him a second to acknowledge your words, turning towards you with a strained smirk.
“Wow, are you worried about me?” His voice trembles.
It isn’t until he turns towards you that you finally get a good look at his face. His normally glowing complexion is completely blanched, and his expression is strained, twisted into a grimace. In other words, he looks completely terrified. It scares you a little too.
“Jesus,” you breathe, leaning in, “now I kind of am. Are you sick?”
“I guess that’s one way to describe it,” he laughs, closing his eyes and leaning back. “Mentally and physically, yes. But not, like, in a stomach flu kind of way.”
You pause, studying his face. “Are you…afraid of flying?”
He opens one eye and glances over at you. “How much aura would I lose if I said yes?”
You lightly shove his arm. “Be serious. You have no aura anyways.”
“Ouch. That’s one of the more hurtful things you’ve said to me recently.”
“Seriously, are you okay?” you ask firmly.
“Of course,” he replies, inhaling but his breath hitches, “I’ll have to be. This paper isn’t going to present itself.”
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“What good would that do? Besides look super lame and give you another thing to hold against me,” he jokes.
You snort. “Why would I hold this against you when I have actual legitimate reasons to find you lame?”
Donghyuck looks genuinely taken aback, eyes widening like a newborn doe. His voice is quiet and hopeful, almost innocent, when he says, “...Yeah?”
He sounds so sincere that you feel your face grow warm. “That is so rude. What kind of monster do you think I am? No matter how much I hate you, I’m not such a terrible person that I would make fun of your phobias.”
He blinks. “No, that’s not what I meant―”
“Whatever. I don’t want you to think I have something over you now, so we’ll make it even,” you announce, “I’ll tell you one of my fears too.”
“Y/N, you don’t have to―”
“When we were going through security earlier and you were being super quiet, I fully thought you and Dr. Min had planned an elaborate prank on me in which I wasn’t actually going to the symposium and that you were only letting me believe I was when, in fact, my paper was terrible,” you confess, blurting everything out in one breath.
Donghyuck stares at you, completely bewildered. “So, you think I’m such a monster that I would―”
“My point being,” you continue, “that I have an irrational fear of being left out. Because I’m not good enough.”
“Y/N―”
“But this doesn’t mean that I’m not gonna kick your ass at the symposium. I will be getting that award. Just…sometimes I gaslight myself into thinking the opposite,” you quickly add, realizing that you may have just given away a little too much of yourself.
That’s the thing with Donghyuck. It’s really easy to forget about everything else when you’re bickering with him. You’ve never had to worry about what to say to him. He’s so smug and annoying and irritating that it makes you feel like you can do anything if it means being able to beat him.
Maybe that’s why you freaked out so much when he was so quiet this morning. Maybe that’s why you’re telling him this now.
“You know, you could’ve just said spiders or something,” he finally says after a long pause, a shit-eating grin finding its way to his lips. The color has come back to his face, and he’s got that mischievous spark in his eye again.
“Firstly, I’m not afraid of spiders. Secondly, you’re an unbelievably huge asshole.” You cross your arms. “I can’t believe―”
“Y/N.” Donghyuck reaches over and gently tugs on the sleeve of your sweater. His touch makes you fall silent. “I’m only going to say this once. And if you try to bring it up again, I’ll deny it, so listen carefully.”
You roll your eyes, waiting for another terrible joke.
“Look at me,” he whispers, leaning in to make sure your eyes meet his. His brown eyes are so dark that they almost look black, like pools of obsidian, yet his gaze is so warm and firm as if you were being enveloped by a warm sunrise. The soft expression on his face anchors you to your seat, and you can’t bring yourself to look away despite knowing you probably should.
“You are brilliant,” he states, as if they’re the truest words in the world.
His sincerity catches you completely off guard, and your mind goes blank. All you can think about is the way he’s looking at you like he’s never been more sure of anything else.
The two of you flinch when you hear the roar of the airplane’s engine, indicating that it’s about to take off. Donghyuck clenches his jaw and pulls away, and you can see his entire body tense as he grips the armrest so hard that his knuckles turn white.
Ripping your eyes off of him, you reach under the seat for your backpack and fish out your AirPods with trembling fingers. You’re still so shaken from earlier that you randomly select a playlist before handing one of the AirPods to Donghyuck. When he raises an eyebrow, you simply reply, “To help you relax.”
He wordlessly takes it and puts it in his ear, taking in the song. A few more seconds pass by before he, stifling a laugh, asks, “So, your idea of relaxation is playing death metal at full volume?”
You gasp, looking back down at your phone and realizing you had selected your road rage mix by accident. Too embarrassed to admit it, you reach over to take the AirPod out. “Fine, be ungrateful then. I’ll listen by myself.”
Donghyuck tuts and leans his head away from your hand, nearly hitting it against the window. “Excuse me, I am trying to relax.”
“You’re obnoxious.”
“Can’t hear you over the sounds of my relaxation,” he says in a sing-song voice.
“Whatever,” you sigh, but you’re fighting a smile.
Throughout the flight, you occasionally sneak glances at Donghyuck, checking to see if he’s uncomfortable. He’s always fast asleep, head leaning against the window and lips slightly parted. To your relief, he looks much more serene than he did at the start.
He still doesn’t budge when the flight attendant comes around to hand out Biscoff cookies, and you’re tempted to steal his pack for yourself but decide against it. Instead, you begrudgingly put them in his lap. If you were anywhere else, you one-hundred percent would, but it doesn’t feel right this time.
After scarfing down your cookies, you drift off yourself and don’t wake up until a crackly announcement from the captain that your flight will be landing soon startles you awake. When you look over at Donghyuck, he’s still asleep. Shifting in your seat, you hear plastic crinkling in your lap, and you look down in confusion.
A pack of Biscoff cookies.
Taking a shaky deep breath, you lean back against your seat. The two-pack, cinnamon-flavored shortbread cookies sit in your lap like a ticking time bomb. You think about sharing an umbrella under the rain. You think about Donghyuck’s fear of flying. You think about how he thinks you’re brilliant. You think about these damn Biscoff cookies.
Suddenly, you wish you weren’t sitting arm-to-arm with Donghyuck; you wish he was always a hallway’s distance from you. Because that was the distance that you can think clearly when he’s around you. Because that was the distance before―
Before.
Act III) Nonsense! You don't need a man to wear a beautiful dress!
“Somehow, there was a misunderstanding and only a single room was booked for the both of you.”
Well, so much for distance.
Dr. Min looks like she wants to crawl in a hole. “I am so sorry, you guys. The hotel is used to each university only bringing one student, so they weren’t expecting two. And the hotel is fully booked for the symposium, so they don’t have an extra room.”
You and Donghyuck exchange defeated glances, too exhausted from the flight (for many reasons) to even react.
“None of the nearby hotels have any available either,” Dr. Min continues, “so, I can’t believe I have to ask this of you guys, but would you mind sharing a room? The room also has a sofa pull-out bed, and maybe you guys can rock-paper-scissors for it.”
This certainly throws a wrench in your Avoid Lee Donghyuck Like the Plague weekend plans, but Dr. Min looks so stressed that you really don’t want to further complicate things for her. When you look over at Donghyuck (something that you had been explicitly trying not to do), he’s already looking at you, waiting for your answer.
“It’s fine,” you finally say, sighing, “We’re all grown-ups, after all.”
Dr. Min turns to Donghyuck, expectant. He just shrugs, replying, “If Y/N’s okay with it.”
“Great. Thank you guys so much!” Dr. Min exclaims, clapping her hands together before handing you the room key. “You guys can take some time to get some rest and freshen up. Don’t forget we’re going to have dinner with a few of my colleagues tonight too. Meet me here at 7:30 sharp.”
The two of you say your goodbyes before trudging over to the elevator. You don’t say anything to each other even as you enter your cramped room, equipped with a single queen-sized bed and a sofa pull-out couch that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned since the 60s.
You and Donghyuck just stare in disbelief for a moment before he turns towards you and holds out a fist. “Rock, paper, scissors?”
“Huh?”
“Rock, paper, scissors!” You don’t even have time to react as Donghyuck starts counting down, lowering his fist on every word.
Without thinking, you pick scissors, only for him to pick rock.
“Looks like I get the bed,” he says smugly.
“You ambushed me. That’s not fair,” you demand, crossing your arms.
“Two out of three?”
“Rockpaperscissors!” you blurt at the speed of light, trying to catch him off guard.
This time, he picks scissors while you pick paper.
“You suck,” you snap, shoving his hand away and stomping towards the pull-out couch before dropping your bag on it. Donghyuck’s laugh rings throughout the room like a bell from behind you.
This feels more like before―when he pissed you off more than anything. Donghyuck from before was too nice, too soft. It’s actually better that you’re sleeping on the musty pull-out couch; this is more of your dynamic with him. Before he shared his umbrella with you. Before he told you about his fear of flying. Before he called you brilliant. Before you nearly had a panic attack over some Biscoff cookies.
“I’m getting ready first,” you say petulantly.
“Be my guest,” he replies, raising his hands up like he’s surrendering, “Take as long as you need.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Because of the double standard, of course. Women have to uphold a much higher beauty standard, and there is more societal pressure for them to feel like they have to dress up―”
“Holy performative male.” You roll your eyes. “Do you cry when you think about women getting their periods, too?”
“Only when I’m drinking my matcha and reading Sylvia Plath.” He winks.
After grabbing a change of clothes and your skincare regimen, you promptly push past him and close the bathroom door in his face.
.
.
.
In the end, it does take you a while to get ready. Between doing your skincare, putting on a full face of makeup, and styling your hair, you made sure to put in extra effort since you could be potentially networking with Dr. Min’s colleagues. You even brought your best evening gown in anticipation.
When you finally emerge from the bathroom, Donghyuck is sitting on the bed with his laptop, furiously typing away. His eyes briefly glance up at the sound of the door opening and returns to the screen before he does a double take, eyes widening when he finally sees you.
“What are you doing?” you ask, nodding towards his laptop.
“Oh.” He stops for a moment. “My presentation notes. For the presentation. Tomorrow.”
“What a vast vocabulary you have there, English major,” you tease, sitting on the edge of the bed so that you can slip your heels on. “Are you that nervous for tomorrow?”
Donghyuck laughs, but it’s more like a breathless huff that he releases. “Something like that.”
“You’re talking in riddles again. Whatever, just hurry up and get ready. We have to be down there in forty minutes,” you say after glancing at your phone.
Clearing his throat, he gives you a quick two-finger salute before closing his laptop and grabbing his stuff. He stiffly walks around you at an odd angle, as if you had an invisible force field around you, and keeps his eyes straight ahead.
While Donghyuck is getting ready, you scroll on TikTok, watching meditation videos and tutorials on breathing exercises in order to relax. You so badly want to make a good impression on Dr. Min’s colleagues (and, subsequently, on Dr. Min too) that you’re making yourself nauseous from imagining all the ways things could go wrong.
You’re in the middle of a third attempt to completely clear your mind for a meditation exercise when Donghyuck steps out of the bathroom. Like the pain he is, he completely destroys any hope of a clear and sound mind as he walks over to you.
Donghyuck is wearing a navy blue dress shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and the top two buttons undone, tucked into a pair of black slacks. His hair is lightly gelled, and you hate how effortlessly handsome he is.
“What are you doing?” He asks, gesturing to your phone that’s still playing a video of a woman sitting cross-legged and telling you to breathe in and out.
Hurriedly, you lock your phone and put it away in your purse. “Nothing.”
“Why are you watching meditation videos? Nervous?”
“Why do you ask if you already know?” you retort.
“I enjoy the validation,” he replies smoothly, “So, is that a yes?”
“Yes, if you must know, I am nervous. Not all of us are natural-born ass-kissers, you know,” you hiss, “I need to get on their good side. Connections are everything in academia.”
“Ah, but you don’t need meditation or ass-kissing to make a good impression. You forget the simplest method of all,” he points out.
“And that is?”
“Being yourself,” he beams.
“Thanks for the advice, Sesame Street. You think I wouldn’t be doing that if it worked?” you ask wryly.
“How would you know if you’ve never tried it?” He crosses his arms.
You stand up, suddenly feeling slightly offended. “What are you implying?”
“Oh, I think you know.”
“That is so rich coming from you. You’re the fakest of us all,” you snap, jabbing a finger in his chest.
“I never said it works for me.” Donghyuck smiles, tilting his head.
You pause, blinking as your hand falls limply to your side. “What do you mean?”
“Don’t you know?”
When you can’t think of a response, he shrugs. “Or maybe you don’t.”
You watch him walk past you to get the room key from the nightstand, slipping it into his wallet, before grabbing your purse from the bed and handing it to you. “Come on, we’ll be late for dinner.”
And just like that, dinner is the last thing on your mind.
.
.
.
“It’s so surreal seeing you two in such fancy clothes. You guys look amazing!” Dr. Min gushes, as the three of you take your seats inside a fancy restaurant whose name you can’t even pronounce. A salad from here probably costs a month’s worth of rent. Luckily, you’re not paying.
“You look stunning tonight as well, Dr. Min,” Donghyuck instantly responds, turning up his ass-kissing to 100.
You just sip on your glass of water, trying to distract yourself with a task by picking up and setting down your glass continuously. Eventually, a waiter comes by and dramatically refills your glass without you even asking. You murmur a quick thank you before going right back to your routine.
“Oh, here they are!” Dr. Min stands up and waves to someone behind you, and you quickly set your water back down. You smooth out the bunched up dress in your lap and tuck your hair behind your ears. As Dr. Min ushers her colleagues over to your table, you feel Donghyuck’s warm hand gently on your knee, stilling your leg that you didn’t even know you were furiously bouncing.
He doesn’t say a word, only looking at you for a second before pulling away, standing up and plastering on a big grin to greet Dr. Min’s colleagues. Your leg burns like his fingerprints individually branded you.
Mind whirring, you shakily stand up and hope that your face is doing something similar to a smile.
“Donghyuck, Y/N, these are my colleagues. This is Dr. Collins and Dr. Gregory,” Dr. Min introduces, gesturing to two middle-aged men in suits who are both wearing glasses. Frankly, they look identical to you, but such is the case with the elites in academia.
You all say your greetings before sitting down, and thankfully, Dr. Min orders the food for you, rattling off fancy French dishes that you couldn’t even begin to spell. She also orders a few bottles of super expensive wine, though you and Donghyuck choose to abstain. Despite your initial nerves, the dinner isn’t as bad as you thought it’d be. The conversation flows naturally between everyone, and you even get a few laughs from Dr. Collins and Dr. Gregory, which gives you a slight confidence boost. It isn’t until dinner is starting to wind down, and the professors are flushed and slightly slurring that Dr. Gregory turns towards you, saying, “You know, Y/N, you’re such a pretty girl. If only you would smile a bit more. You’d be a real stunner if you smiled more.”
The pungent scent of wine on his breath wafts over to you as he continues, “Don’t be so uptight, you know?”
Your entire body freezes, and you suddenly feel sick to your stomach. This isn’t exactly your first time dealing with creepy old men, but you’ve never had to do so with creepy old men that could control your future in your career. Especially not with your mentor’s colleagues―the mentor that you revere and want so desperately to impress.
You feel your face burn with shame and humiliation, as you try to think of something to say that will diffuse the situation but also not offend Dr. Gregory. Dr. Min and Dr. Collins look uncomfortable as well, but they don’t seem like they know what to do either.
“Oh, lighten up! It was just a joke,” Dr. Gregory finally says after noticing the tense atmosphere, “You young people never have a sense of humor.”
“Pray tell, what was the joke?” Donghyuck asks, his words dripping with a venomous sweetness. He’s gripping the cloth napkin in his lap with such strength that you think he might rip it. He’s seething with so much rage that you can feel it radiate from his body like heat waves. You’re worried he’s about to jump across the table and attack Dr. Gregory, so you slowly reach under the table and place your hand on top of his.
It’s not worth it, you want to tell him.
Without looking at you, Donghyuck releases the napkin and flips your hand with your palm facing upwards before lacing his fingers through yours, keeping your entwined fingers tucked into his lap. He holds your hand tightly but not enough to hurt. Just enough that you know he’s not going to let this slide.
“Explain the joke,” Donghyuck continues to press, “What’s so fucking funny?”
Dr. Gregory just stares at him in a drunken daze, and Dr. Min hesitantly glances between the two, finally stammering, “N-Now, that language isn’t appropriate, Donghyuck. However, Dr. Gregory needs to apologize to Y/N, too. Gosh, Dr. Gregory, you always get too drunk for your own good.”
“You know, Dr. Gregory,” Donghyuck starts, completely ignoring her, “you’d be a real stunner if you went to an AA meeting instead of lurking around at research symposiums and sexually harassing female students.”
“How dare you accuse me of―” Dr. Gregory begins sputtering, face turning even redder.
“Oh, lighten up! It was just a joke. What, you old perverts don’t have a sense of humor?” Donghyuck raises his voice, so that the surrounding tables can hear him. He stands to his feet, taking you with him, before using his free hand to slam a glass of water in front of Dr. Gregory. He uses so much force that the glass clatters loudly against the wooden table, and water splashes all over the table and Dr. Gregory’s lap.
“Sober up, you piece of shit. Talk to her like that again, and I’ll make sure you’re drinking your fancy wine through a tube in your neck.”
Donghyuck drags your chair out of the way, making sure to scrape the metal against the floor so that it makes a screeching noise, and leads you away from the table and out of the restaurant. Against your better judgment, you look back at the table. The three professors just sit there, shoulders slumped, looking smaller and smaller as you walk away. In the past, they stood tall like the highest peak of a mountain that you could never reach. Now, you can’t help but think that they look so…pathetic.
Donghyuck doesn’t speak to you as you make your way back to the hotel; he just holds your hand like you’ll slip away if he doesn’t. After a few minutes, he takes your intertwined fingers and puts them in his pants pocket. He’s walking so fast that you start to stumble over the uneven pavement in your heels.
“Wait, Donghyuck―”
You nearly trip, but he quickly turns around and catches you. His hands are on your waist, warm and firm, as he carefully steadies you.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” you say quietly.
Donghyuck takes in a deep breath, his hands linger around your waist as if he was the one being steadied. When he speaks, he unconsciously pulls you in a bit closer. “Yeah, I should’ve done a lot worse.”
“Come on, you’re a grad student who’s cooped up at home all day writing research papers. You’re not exactly Mike Tyson,” you try to tease. You’ve never seen him this angry before.
“I could definitely kick his teeth in.” He looks a little too determined for your liking.
“And then get an assault charge?” You sigh. “I’m not paying your bail.”
He seems to soften up a bit as he studies your face. His hands flinch at your sides, seemingly realizing that he’s cradling you against him, before he takes a step back. His palms drag against your dress as he lets go of your waist.
“Are you okay?” Donghyuck doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands, as he lifts them back up before putting them back down.
“Of course.” You give him a halfhearted smile. “Not exactly my first rodeo with this kind of stuff.”
You can see a muscle in his jaw spasm.
“It was nice seeing you cuss him out though. Took the words right out of my mouth. But, you know, I would probably get called a bitch or something if I said it.” You shrug.
“I’m sorry.”
“For what? Misogyny?” You raise an eyebrow. “Are you on your performative male shit again?”
“Well, anyone who knows me knows that I am a staunch feminist. An ally, if you will.” Donghyuck raises a fist in the air, and you roll your eyes, though you can’t help the chuckle that escapes you. When you meet his gaze again, he hesitantly chews on his lip for a moment before continuing, “But…I’m also sorry that you had to listen to him speak to you like that. I wish there was something I could do that was more productive than kicking his teeth in.”
“Hm,” you hum, tapping your chin, “I suppose I could forgive you if you ordered room service. I’m starving. All that bougie French finger food Dr. Min ordered basically evaporated into thin air the moment I put it in my mouth.”
You give him a mischievous grin, and the tension visibly leaves his body.
“Deal.”
.
.
.
That’s how the two of you end up lounging on the bed together, a pepperoni pizza and chicken and waffles feast sprawled out in front of you. One of the television channels is playing a rerun of The Hunger Games: Catching Fire, so you and Donghyuck keep your eyes glued to the screen like children with their iPads. Occasionally, one of you will comment on how much both of you hate Gale and kick your feet when Peeta says his iconic “if it weren’t for the baby” line.
Once the movie is over and the food is completely cleared out, you both flop onto your backs, feeling like stuffed turkeys with how much you ate. The two of you lay there in content silence for a second before you let out a sigh.
It was a lot easier to not think about anything when you had all these distractions, but now that the night is winding down, reality is setting in quickly.
“Tomorrow is going to be so awkward,” you groan, covering your face with your hands. “Dr. Min is probably pissed.”
Donghyuck furrows his eyebrows. “Surely, you don’t mean she would be pissed at us. Not when it was her creepy ass friend’s fault.”
“Well, we certainly didn’t act very professional either.”
“Y/N. Look at me, please.” You feel his hands gently swat yours away from your face.
Begrudgingly, you turn your head towards him. His face is a lot closer than you’re expecting, and your eyes wander as you start to count all of the moles on his smooth skin. Your gaze briefly flickers to his heart-shaped lips before hurriedly traveling back up to his eyes.
“You are not the one who should be worried about tomorrow,” he states firmly, “Dr. Min is the one in a position of authority. It’s her job to protect you.”
“I hope that’s the case,” you mutter.
“It is. She will.” He sounds so sure.
“Well, it doesn’t matter―”
“It does.”
“―I just need to get through this presentation, and I’ll never have to see any of these people ever again.” Truthfully, you probably will since academia circles run small. Donghyuck knows that too.
“Do you―” He hesitates, scanning your face carefully. “Are you going to file a report against Dr. Gregory?”
You laugh humorlessly. “Would anyone believe me?”
“You have three witnesses.”
“That I would be asking to jeopardize their own careers for me,” you point out, “I know we’ve had quite a spirited rivalry, but even I wouldn’t try to sabotage you like this.”
His expression is twisted into something you can’t quite discern. “What―”
“I’m not going to file a report,” you state matter-of-factly, “It’s not worth it.”
Donghyuck goes quiet, clearly trying to collect himself, before whispering hoarsely, “It’s your decision.”
He stares at you for a very long time when you don’t respond. Without even realizing it, the two of you had turned your bodies toward one another on the bed. Your legs are curled upwards, and if you wanted to, you could shift just slightly and bump his thighs. If you wanted to, you could reach out and brush the stray curl from his eyes.
“Y/N.” He murmurs your name so softly that you almost don’t hear him. In fact, the syllables blend together almost as if he were sleeptalking.
“Yeah?” You hold your breath.
“Whatever happens tomorrow, whatever you decide to do, just know that I’m on your side. Always.”
You don’t remember what you said back; you don’t even remember what he looked like when he said it, no matter how desperately you try. You almost wonder if it was just a dream.
All you know is that you wake up wrapped in Lee Donghyuck’s arms the next morning. His bicep is under your neck while his hand is cradling the back of your head. His other arm is slung over your waist, fingers splayed across the small of your back. The hem of your evening gown has ridden up to your thighs, and your bare legs are tangled with his. Your cheek is tucked snugly into the crook of his neck, and every time he exhales, you feel his lips brush the crown of your head. He smells like faded cologne and warm skin.
Sunlight streams into your eyelids when you blearily blink, but you’re so distracted by the peaceful expression on Donghyuck’s face that you barely notice. Without even thinking, you brush the stray curl from his eyes. He slightly stirs at the movement before pulling you in closer, stilling once again after another second.
Against your better judgment, you lean forward, burrowing your face into his neck and feeling his skin against yours. As you listen to the sound of his breathing, it doesn’t take you long to fall back asleep.
Act IV) But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you. Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.
When you wake up, you’re under the covers. Donghyuck is gone.
Except when you turn to the right, he’s curled up in a cramped fetal position on the pull-out couch with no blanket. His back is facing you, but you can see his shoulders steadily rise up and down.
You’re more impressed by how deeply you were sleeping to not notice him tuck you under the covers and then set up the couch.
Shit, what if you drooled on him and that’s why he moved?
Your hand frantically flies to the corner of your mouth, but it’s dry. Almost cracked. Then you realize that you slept in your makeup, and your skin is probably gasping for any sort of hydration.
Swinging your feet over the side of the bed, you tip-toe your way to the bathroom. Carefully shutting the door behind you, you quickly begin your morning routine of brushing your teeth, washing your face, and taking the hottest shower you can handle. You stand still, letting the scorching water run down your body, as you recall the events from the night before. In the end, not even the scalding temperature can burn away the feeling of being enveloped in Donghyuck’s arms.
Furiously scrubbing your face, you wish you had just gotten up and moved to the pull-out couch when you woke up the first time. Instead of cuddling Donghyuck like a psycho. He probably felt you clinging to him like a koala and promptly escaped, even though you were the one who lost rock-paper-scissors.
Better yet, you wish you had never come here in the first place. Maybe then your professional and…personal lives wouldn’t be in complete shambles.
Eventually, the water starts to run cold, and you have no choice but to step out into the steam-filled bathroom. Your phone chimes on the corner of the sink, and you reach over to check it―
Your heart is nearly regurgitated out of your mouth.
It’s a text from Dr. Min inviting you to breakfast. Just you and her.
.
.
.
“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me privately.” Dr. Min is nervously wringing her hands as you awkwardly push around the omelette in front of you.
Honestly, you had contemplated waking Donghyuck up and dragging him down with you, but then you came to your senses. You’re not sure when the switch happened that he’s the first person you turn to for help, and it freaks you out exponentially. Especially when just 48 hours ago, you would’ve rather hacked off your arm than ask him for anything.
Besides, this is nothing you can’t handle. You’re pretty sure.
“No problem.” You try your best to look cool and composed.
“I wanted to apologize for Dr. Gregory’s behavior last night. He got way too drunk, and it was completely unacceptable. He also wants to extend his sincerest apologies. I will make sure this never happens again.”
You’re not sure what to say in response. She’s waiting for you expectantly, almost as if she wants you to exonerate her from her guilt. Normally, you would rush to tell her that everything is okay and it’s all in the past now. But the expression on her face reminds you too much of last night, of how small she seemed.
“Okay.” You nod stiffly. “I appreciate you letting me know.”
There’s an awkward, drawn out pause between the two of you before Dr. Min clears her throat. “Okay. Good.”
You start getting up to leave, but you hear a shrill, “Wait!”
In all your years of knowing her, you’ve never seen Dr. Min look this nervous before. She can barely even maintain eye contact with you as she fidgets with her sleeve. “I, um, need to talk to you about something else. About the symposium.”
So much has happened that you’ve barely even thought about the symposium. It almost relieves you to hear about something so normal, considering how…not normal everything has been.
That is, until she says her next words:
“There’s been a bit of a mix-up. Initially, they were planning on having a keynote speaker. However, the speaker ended up canceling, so the schedule was made without his inclusion. The problem now is that the speaker informed us last-minute that he’ll be able to make it after all. So, I’ve been asked by the organizers to cut one of my students from the program, since I was the only one who brought two.”
You shakily inhale when it dawns on you that this is the real reason she called you down here. That it was always going to be you. The truth of being inferior feels like someone just knocked the wind out of you. You’re struggling to breathe properly, but you will yourself to maintain your composure; you’ll be damned if you have a panic attack in front of Dr. Min.
But all that goes through your head is not good enough, not good enough, not good enough.
“It’s not because your paper isn’t up to par,” she quickly insists, “in fact, your paper was brilliant―”
She couldn’t have picked a shittier adjective. That word is another gut punch.
“―it’s just that Donghyuck is more of what they’re looking for. What they’re expecting.”
That makes you pause. “What?”
“The judges have their…biases. They’re much more inclined to respond to him,” Dr. Min responds vaguely, almost as if she’s too afraid to say what she really means aloud.
“Because Donghyuck is a man?”
“Trust me, as a woman, I understand. It’s ridiculous that academia is still such a deeply patriarchal system. I’m just trying to play by their rules. If Donghyuck gets the Best Research Paper award, it’ll look really good for the university,” she explains as if it’ll all make sense to you now.
“So, you acknowledge how academia has fostered an incredibly sexist environment, yet you want to continue upholding that culture?” you ask incredulously, “Or is it because you’ve, against all odds, already succeeded in this environment so you don’t want to upset the status quo? You’re willing to close the door behind you if it means that you can retain your position?”
“I have always championed for more female scholars in our field, Y/N. This is different. It’s beyond that,” she answers defensively.
“Because your reputation is on the line?”
Dr. Min purses her lips. “I am doing what is best for our school. I hope you’ll understand that some day. I’m sure Donghyuck will as well.”
“We’ll see about that.” You clench your jaw.
“Don’t further complicate things,” she warns, clearly perceiving your words as a threat, “I really am sorry that this happened. I know this would have been a wonderful addition to your CV and your application to the PhD program. I promise I will write you that letter of recommendation if things go smoothly today.”
You actually laugh at her, a hysterical shriek bubbling in your throat. “You were my hero, you know.”
Without waiting for her response, you get up from your seat and walk away, never once turning around to look back at her. You’re not sure how you gathered up the strength to return to your room without collapsing once, but you swear you’re going to faint when Donghyuck peeks his head out of the bathroom when he hears you come in. He has a running blowdryer in one hand and a round brush in the other. He looks so happy to see you that you feel nauseous.
“Hey! I was wondering where you went. For a moment, I thought my snoring scared you off―what’s wrong?” In an instant, he’s set everything down and is making his way over to you.
You sidestep him before dragging your numb body to the edge of the bed, sitting down with your back turned against him. Squeezing your burning eyes shut, you try to remember the breathing exercises you had been watching the day before.
“Are you sick?” You hear Donghyuck’s soothing voice in front of you, but you don’t dare look at him. “Do you need anything?”
You shake your head, feeling a sob rack your body.
“Please tell me what’s wrong. What can I do? Tell me what to do, Y/N.” He sounds so scared that you know you won’t be able to tell him the truth. You’re not cruel enough to make him throw away this opportunity for you.
“Nothing,” you finally manage to get out. When you open your eyes, he’s kneeling in front of you, desperately scanning your face. What a sight he’s probably getting with all the tears and snot. “I’m not presenting today. There was a scheduling issue, and they had to cut someone from the program.”
“What? Why would they cut someone when it’s their own fault? And why you?”
You shrug halfheartedly. “Dr. Min didn’t tell me. Maybe my paper was just not as good as yours.”
“No,” he responds immediately, “that’s impossible. There had to have been another reason. If anything, Dr. Min should have cut me. I was the one who acted out of line.”
You smile bitterly. “When you do it, you’re a badass. When I do it, I’m a bitch.”
It was a sentiment you had echoed last night, but you had no idea just how ironic those words would turn out.
“Then take my place.” Donghyuck says it like it’s the simplest solution in the world.
“What, no,” you say in bewilderment, “Dr. Min has made it clear that she wants you to present. Besides, your name is on the program.”
“Fine. I won’t present either.” He crosses his arms and looks away like a child throwing a tantrum.
“Are you insane? What’s the point of all this if neither of us presents?” you demand.
“I’m not going to do it if you’re not.”
“Don’t you want the recommendation letter from Dr. Min?”
He stares at you in disbelief. “You think I care about that?”
“In case you forgot, you’re the one who suggested the competition―”
“Y/N, that was before―” he pauses, wetting his lips, “before this.”
Neither of you seem to know what this is.
“It hasn’t been a competition to me for a while now. The letter, the award, this whole symposium, none of that matters to me. I just care about you.” Donghyuck’s voice breaks slightly. “The only thing I want is you.”
“But you hate me. We’re…sworn enemies.” Your voice is barely a whisper.
That gets a chuckle out of him. “Maybe, initially. Maybe I didn’t like how much smarter you were than me. Maybe I didn’t enjoy the way you would always rip me a new one during class discussions. But―no matter how much I fought it, I started looking for you in every room I stepped into and only cared about what you had to say. I told myself a million different reasons for why I was acting the way I was. I thought whatever was forming was loathing, that you were just someone that I needed to prove I was better than. I convinced myself that I needed to tease and annoy you in any possible way because it was a tactic to gain the upperhand. When in reality, I was just doing whatever I could to get your attention. I suggested the competition because I would finally stop thinking about you if we settled our rivalry once and for all. But, Y/N―”
Donghyuck gently reaches up and cups your cheek with his hand, running his thumb along your cheekbone. You subconsciously lean into his touch, eyes fluttering.
“Y/N, the award has always been yours. You’ve won from the very start, and I never stood a chance. I’m not doing this without you.”
The boy you’ve spent your entire college career trying to outshine looks at you like you’re his North Star.
Your fingers slide up his forearm before gently closing around his wrist, cradling his hand against your face. Tilting your head downwards so that you’re level with his kneeling position, you place your forehead against his. Donghyuck lets out a soft gasp like you just sent an electric shock through his body.
“You have to do it. Something good has to come out of this shitshow,” you insist firmly.
He tries to pull away to protest. “No―”
“You said you’d be on my side.”
He looks at you like you’ve physically hurt him.
“Okay.” He finally relents, slumping his shoulders. “Okay, I’ll do it.”
You surge forward, wrapping your arms around him. Donghyuck catches you like it’s the most natural thing in the world, burying his face in your neck and holding you like he exists only to do so. He holds you so lovingly that you almost break and tell him the truth.
But you don’t.
Instead, you let him go and tell him to hurry up and get ready. You don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on you even as he walks away.
When the two of you finally make your way down to the conference room where the symposium is being held, Dr. Min is already waiting. You slightly flinch when you see her, and to your dismay, Donghyuck seems to notice. He gives you a quizzical glance before looking at Dr. Min, gauging her facial expression. Dr. Min, on the other hand, pretends like nothing happened, and it scares you how good she is at it.
“There you guys are! Come on, Donghyuck is up first.” She ushers you both behind a makeshift stage that they’ve set up. “Okay, make sure to take a few deep breaths. Don’t bury your nose in your notes. Make sure to make eye contact with the audience.”
Donghyuck isn’t paying attention to her whatsoever. Instead, he’s peering around the stage, clearly up to something. You don’t even have time to ask him what he’s planning before the announcer calls his name.
Suddenly, Donghyuck doubles over, clutching his stomach in pain. “Owww!”
He drags the last syllable, getting progressively louder the longer he holds the word. Both you and Dr. Min slightly jump at the volume of his voice.
“What’s wrong?” she asks frantically.
“Oh, my stomach is killing me,” he moans dramatically, “I think it might be the shitty French food we ate last night. Oh, I’m going to throw up.”
He makes dry heaving noises, and Dr. Min takes a step back. “Um, okay. Let’s get you to a bathroom.”
“What about the presentation?” he asks in between vomiting sounds.
“You can’t present if you’re sick. We’ll―”
“Oh, I have a wonderful idea.” He claps his hands together. “How about Y/N presents in my place?”
You should’ve known Donghyuck would have something up his sleeve.
“And look! A copy of Y/N’s paper magically showed up, so she’s all set! Wow, Shakespeare must be in the building with us on this beautiful afternoon.” He whips out the folded pieces of paper in his back pocket that you had thought was his paper. When he notices your death glare, he places the back of his hand on his forehead. “Oh, I feel so sick…”
“Lee Donghyuck, I’m going to kill―”
“We don’t have time for this,” Dr. Min snaps, snatching the paper from Donghyuck and shoving it into your arms. “I don’t know how you two planned this, but I’ll deal with you afterwards. Just go and present.”
“But I―”
Dr. Min grabs your shoulders and essentially manhandles you onto the stage. You stumble out in front of a giant crowd full of confused scholars who definitely just heard all the ruckus Donghyuck made. Awkwardly shuffling over to the podium, you clear your throat into the mic by accident, causing a piercing feedback noise.
“Oh, uh, sorry about that. I’m not Lee Donghyuck. He had…other issues to deal with. My name is Y/N, and I’m here to present on―”
You pause for a moment when you look down at your paper. Written in red ink are loopy, sprawling letters at the top of the page that read:
You are the badass.
Looking back up at the expectant crowd, you take the pages of your paper and rip them in half, the sounds of paper tearing echoing throughout the room.
“I originally planned on presenting about female empowerment in the 1999 film 10 Things I Hate About You compared to the source material, The Taming of the Shrew. However, I cannot, in good faith, speak on this topic without first recounting my own experiences this past weekend. Isn’t it a Shakespearean twist that all we do is sit around and discuss political and sociological issues being acknowledged in works of literature yet we can’t recognize those same problems in our own field? I hope my words force us to acknowledge our own internalized biases.”
.
.
.
In the end, you don’t receive the Best Research Paper award.
In fact, security escorts you out of the conference room shortly after you finish speaking.
You’re not sure what the repercussions of what you just did are going to be, but you can’t find it in you to care. When you’re deposited in the hotel lobby, Donghyuck is already waiting for you.
“How’s your stomach?” you ask sarcastically.
He just shakes his head and chuckles incredulously. “You always find a way to one-up me.”
“So, you’re admitting defeat?” You close the distance between the two of you, stepping so close that your chests nearly touch.
Donghyuck swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. “Y/N, I―”
You throw your arms around his neck and bring him down to press your lips against his. He snakes an arm around your waist and lifts you up, pulling you tightly against him. He kisses you like he’s on his dying breath, and he holds you like you’re everything he ever dreamed of. For the first time in your life, you know you are.
“Complete and utter defeat,” he whispers against your lips.
Academic validation and beating Lee Donghyuck are your only motivations in life. You end up achieving only one of the two.
.
.
.
It isn’t until when you get back from the symposium the next week that you discover multiple sexual harassment claims were filed against Dr. Gregory after your speech and he was fired by the university. Additionally, Dr. Min was put on administrative leave for allegations of discrimination and abuse of power. She apparently is also being investigated separately by the organizers of the symposium for attempted bribery of the judges by not disclosing the fact that she habitually took them to dinner (who were actually Dr. Collins and Dr. Gregory).
“Now, that’s some Shakespearean karma.” Donghyuck winks when he shows you the news article.
“I guess we’re not getting those recommendation letters.” You sigh.
He throws his head back and laughs.
Lacing your fingers through his, you lean your head against his shoulder as the two of you walk down the sidewalk―the sounds of the rain growing heavier against your shared umbrella and cars speeding by serving as your only background noise.
𐙚 fuckboy!haechan x fem!reader (ft. best friend jaemin)
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3
𐙚 synopsis- Jaemin’s out for revenge after Haechan slept with the girl he liked. You’re just supposed to be a distraction, something pretty to keep Haechan’s mind off of what Jaemin was doing. He’s cute, addictive— you should stay away… you really should, but when he touches you like that how are you supposed to remember what’s right?
𐙚 genre- college au, smut/ porn with plot (MDNI 18+), angst, slight fluff.
𐙚 warnings- drug use, alcohol use, sex under the influence, lost of virginity, protected sex, oral (fem receiving), marking, praising, sorta rough sex, arguing, slight sexual Jaemin moment, mention of death.
𐙚 W/c- 14k
Now playing: House of balloons/ Glass table girls- The Weeknd
a/n- hi guys! I really wanted to post this all in one part, but tumblr had other plans loll. I’ve poured months (and a few breakdowns T.T) into this, so I really hope you enjoy it! let me know if you want to be tagged in the next part, and I’d love to hear what you think <3
══════════════════════════
It was a typical Thursday night— your desk lamp casted a soft glow over your notes as you flipped through flashcards for your biology test. You were focused, head down as you muttered terms under your breath, determined to cram as much into your brain as humanly possible before crashing, then came the voice.
"Oh, Y/n!!!"
Your door flew open with no hesitation. You didn't even have time to respond before Jaemin strolled in like he owned the place, grinning from ear to ear.
"What the fuck." You muttered under your breath, barely looking up as he waltzed in and flopped himself onto your bed.
"Jaemin, what are you doing here— how did you even get in?" You asked, spinning in your chair with a look of disapproval stretched across your face.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Your hot roommate let me in."
You raised a brow. "The one who has a crush on you?"
"The one I may fuck." He said with a grin as he stretched out, hands behind his head, settling in like he had no plans of leaving anytime soon.
"Ok, yuck. Didn't you literally fuck the other one?" You said flatly, turning back to your desk, scooping up your stack of color coded flashcards with a sigh. "Seriously though, what are you doing here? I told you I'm locking in tonight."
"You lock in every night." He said, dragging out a dramatic sigh.
"And that's why our intelligence levels are not in the same bracket." You joked, a small smirk appearing on your lips, even though your eyes stayed focused on the pile in front of you.
"So you don't love me, I guess?" He asked, his voice tilting into that overly dramatic tone you knew too well.
"Exactly." You said, spinning around to face him again.
"Wow... so cold. After ten years of friendship, this is how I'm treated? Unrequited love, what a tragedy." He said, clutching his chest, face twisted in fake agony.
"I love you, Jaemin. I've loved you since we were nine. You're my best friend ever. There, happy now?" You said deadpan, raising an eyebrow.
He froze for a second, then grinned slowly. "Wow... so you really love me? Like, really love me? You'd do anything for me, because you're so in love with me, right?"
You narrowed your eyes immediately. You knew that tone, it was the 'I need something' voice.
"What do you want Jaemin?" You sighed, already regretting humoring him.
"Ugh, you know me too well. Ok, hear me out." He said sitting up now, a bright smile spreading across his face. "I need a favor. A small one— tiny really."
You crossed your arms. "What kind of favor?"
"I need you to come to a party with me tomorrow night."
You blinked. "A party? Jaemin, you know I don't do parties. Especially not when I have class the next day."
"You have class at noon on Fridays." He countered quickly. "You'll be fine."
You gave him a long, skeptical look. "So all I have to do is... go to a party with you? That's it?"
He opened his mouth and hesitated.
You instantly leaned back. "Nope... nope, you're already pushing it. What's the real reason?"
"Wait! Just... let me explain, please." He clapped his hands together in a prayer gesture.
You sighed. "Ok fine. I'm listening, speak."
He sat up straighter, his grin faltering just a bit. "There's this guy, Haechan. I'm really fucking pissed at him."
You tilted your head. "Why?"
"He slept with the girl I really liked. Like, genuinely liked, not just thought was hot liked."
"Oof, I'm sorry." You said. "And... what does that have to do with me?"
He looked at you, dead serious now. "I want revenge."
You squinted. "What kind of revenge?"
"I want you to distract him. Just talk to him, keep him downstairs at the party, keep him busy, while I... you know."
"Jaemin." You said slowly. "Distract him from what?"
He hesitated for only a second, then smiled. "From me."
Your eyes narrowed. "If you're doing anything illegal, I'm out."
"I'm trying to fuck his sister."
There was a full beat of silence as your mouth dropped open, eyes wide.
"You what— seriously?" You said, disbelief and a reluctant laugh bubbling up all at once.
"She's hot!" He defended, already laughing. "And it's perfect, he'll lose his shit when he finds out."
"You couldn't just... I don't know, hook up with a girl he likes or something? Call it even?" You asked, raising a brow.
"Yeah well, Haechan doesn't like girls." Jaemin said casually.
You blinked, your brows furrowing slightly. "...hmm?"
He held up a finger with a small smile. "Not like that, don't look at me like that."
You leaned back, smirking. "Mmm, sure."
"What I mean is, he doesn't have feelings for anyone. Not girls, not really anyone. He just uses people— gets what he wants, then tosses them aside. He's emotionally detached. Kind of fucked up, honestly."
You frowned slightly. "You're just being dramatic."
"He's dramatic!" Jaemin shot back. "The man throws house parties on Thursdays for no reason. He once invited a girl over, got head, and then called her a uber while she was still on her knees."
Your eyes widened slightly. "Damn, he sounds like a real asshole. How does someone like that have this big of a name already?"
"He's a senior." Jaemin said with a roll of his eyes. "But all he does is throw parties, drink, and do drugs. He's a loser honestly."
You exhaled. "So... all I have to do is distract him— nothing else?"
"That's it. Just talk to him, keep him downstairs for like twenty minutes. If he tries anything, call me and I'll come get you. Promise."
You bit your lip, thinking. "Ok Fine, but only this once."
"YES! Oh my god, I love you so much, you're actually the best." Jaemin said, beaming at you.
"Yeah, yeah. Now you owe me, pick up those flashcards." You said, tossing the stack into his lap as you turned back to your desk.
He caught them and gave a smile. "Delighted, my queen."
You just rolled your eyes, but your smile lingered as you reached for your pen.
══════════════════════════
You finished the final touches on your hair, giving yourself one last glance in the mirror before grabbing your phone. Right on cue, Jaemin's name lit up the screen with a text:
Jaemin [11:47 PM]:
"I'm outside."
Stepping outside, you spotted him leaning against his car, arms crossed and a grin already spreading across his face as he saw you approach.
"Damn." He said, letting his gaze travel from head to toe with an exaggerated nod of approval. "You look sexy."
"Thank you, Jaemin." You replied smoothly, brushing past him with a hint of sarcasm in your voice.
He opened the passenger side door for you, but paused before you could step in. "I mean... we don't have to go right now, you know. We could go upstairs instead— chill a little, you and me... one on one." He tilted his head, giving you the same smirk he always uses when he's up to no good.
You raised your hand and snapped your fingers right in front of his face. "Focus."
"I am focused." He said, blinking slowly. "Just... not on the party anymore."
"Seriously." You said, sliding him a look as you walked to the car. "Is it your life's mission to try and sleep with every girl you meet?"
"Not every girl." He replied, shrugging as he followed behind. "Only the special ones."
You raised a brow. "And what would your mother think of you throwing yourself at someone who's practically your sister?"
"Ew, don't say it like that." He scowled, visibly shuddering. "That ruined it for me, thanks."
"Good." You smirked, climbing into the car.
He got in on the driver's side and started the engine, throwing you a side glance. "You're lucky I love you, anyone else and I'd have driven off by now in heartbreak."
"Right, so tragic." You said with fake sympathy, adjusting your seatbelt.
Jaemin chuckled, turning up the music just enough to fill the space between you. The drive was short, maybe ten minutes at most, but the energy shifted just slightly as the neon lights of the house party came into view down the street.
He slowed the car and looked over at you. "Hey... real talk for a second."
You turned toward him, a little wary. "What?"
"I know I joke a lot." He said, eyes flicking over your face, a little more serious now. "But I'm not gonna throw you into the deep end or anything. If this gets weird or Haechan gets weird, just call me and I'll come get you, no questions."
You blinked, surprised by the softness in his voice. "Jaemin..."
"And if you wanna bail at any point." He added. "Just say the word."
A small smile appeared on your lips. "Thanks. I mean it's just a distraction mission, right? I think I can handle that."
He nodded, but his gaze lingered on you. "I know you can. You're... careful, thoughtful— like you think ahead."
You gave a dry laugh. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
"It's not." He said. "Just means I won't have to worry about you doing something stupid."
Your eyes narrowed slightly. "What are you trying to say?"
He hesitated, then said it gently: "I remember that conversation we had last year. About how you were still, you know... saving yourself."
Your cheeks flushed instantly. "Wow, really bringing that up right now?"
"I'm not judging." He said quickly. "I actually think it's cool. You're not like the rest of them, that's why I care if you're ok."
You looked out the window, the beat of the music fading under the weight of his words. "Thanks, I guess."
Jaemin parked across the street, cutting the engine. "I know I'm an asshole sometimes, but I wouldn't bring you into this if I didn't trust you."
You exhaled slowly, then met his eyes. "Ok, let's do this."
"Hell yeah." He grinned, hopping out and circling around to open your door once more.
You stepped into the house, instantly hit by the loud bass of the music and the scent of weed, alcohol, and too much cologne. Bodies swayed under strobe lights, some grinding against each other, others already too far gone to care how they looked. Jaemin kept a casual, but protective hand on your lower back as he guided you through the crowd, eyes scanning the room like he was on a mission.
"That's him." He muttered, leaning down so only you could hear. He nodded subtly toward the kitchen.
Your gaze followed and landed on a guy behind the counter, restocking a row of liquor bottles.
You paused, he was... hotter than expected.
Black hair, tan skin, a body that made a plain black tee and jeans look like he was born for it. His movements were effortless, confident. His smile, charming. There was something in the way he looked people in the eye when talking, like they were the only person in the room. Your lips parted slightly as you took him in, eyes dragging over the way his shirt clung to his waist, the veins on his forearm flexing as he adjusted a bottle.
"Oh no." Jaemin teased, pulling you out of your trance. "Are we losing you already?"
"No." You said too quickly, blinking yourself back into reality. "No, just observing."
"Mmhmm." Jaemin smirked. "Well, he's your target babe. You've got all night."
"Lucky me." You muttered half sarcastically, but then he grabbed your arm gently.
"You sure?"
You turned toward him. "Yeah, are you?"
He nodded, though a flicker of something uncertain passed over his face. "Just, wait." He reached into his pocket and held something out, a condom.
"Jaemin—"
"Just in case." He said, tone serious now. "Even if he insists, don't let him talk you into going raw, I mean it."
You rolled your eyes, but smiled. "I'm not gonna do anything, relax."
"I know you won't, Y/n." He said, softer now. "But he'll try and sometimes the heat of the moment sneaks up on you. So just... have it, please."
You took it with a small nod and shoved it into your back pocket.
"Good luck with your girl." You said.
"Good luck with your guy. If you need me, call me."
And with that, you were on your own.
You straightened your shoulders, pulled your confidence up, and walked toward the kitchen— eyes locked on him the whole time. He didn't notice you at first, too busy rearranging cups and pouring mixers, but when he turned, his gaze landed on you like a spark.
"You look a little bored over here all alone." You said, voice smooth.
He looked you over slowly, thoroughly. "I am, are you gonna do something about that?"
"Maybe." You smiled, tilting your head. "But are you really worth my time?"
He grinned, a cocky thing that only made him more irresistible. "Maybe."
You watched as he accidentally slammed a bottle of tequila a little too hard on the counter, too distracted by your presence.
"I don't know..." You said, stepping closer. "You can't even handle a bottle. What makes you think you can handle me?"
He leaned a little closer, voice dropping. "I can— when I'm drinking."
"That doesn't sound very fun." You teased, watching the way his eyes flickered down to your lips.
"It is fun." He said. "Especially with a pretty girl like you."
Your hand slid over his on the counter, fingers brushing against his skin as you lifted the bottle from under his touch. "Then why aren't we drinking?"
He paused for a second, watching you intently. "Why aren't we?"
"You're still hogging the bottle." You murmured.
For a moment, you were locked in a wordless gaze, one of those silences that say more than anything spoken. You held it, tested him with your eyes.
"Are you just gonna stare." You finally said. "Or are you gonna pour me a shot?"
He smiled and grabbed two glasses, pouring quickly.
"What are we cheering to?" He asked.
You smirked. "To wherever this night takes us."
He clinked his glass to yours. "Dangerous words."
You both downed the shots, the tequila burning its way down your throat. You didn't even shudder.
"Wow." He said, licking his lips. "You took that like a champ."
"I can take a lot." You replied, wiping the corner of your mouth and not looking away once.
"That so? He said, exhaling slowly, pausing for a second. "Then take another with me."
"Don't you wanna wait?" You asked, your voice hinting a bit of concern.
"I thought you said you could take it." He challenged.
"Are you calling me a liar?" You raised a brow.
"Yeah." He shrugged. "I guess I am."
You grabbed your glass, poured another, and tossed it back without blinking, and he followed right after. That turned into a third, then a fourth.
By now, your skin was buzzing, cheeks flushed with heat. The line between performance and reality blurred fast.
You talked about nothing— music, parties, stupid shit, other people you both barely knew, but everything had a spark to it. The way his gaze lingered when you laughed, the way his hand brushed your waist when reaching for more cups, the subtle way your knees touched.
"You dance?" He asked, stepping just slightly closer.
"Depends who's asking."
He gave that dangerous smile again. "You know who's asking."
You glanced at your phone, and still no text from Jaemin. Thirty minutes of flirtation— of temptation. You looked back up at Haechan, something electric passing between you.
You smirked. "Let's dance then."
The music pulsed around you as he led you out of the kitchen and into the crowd. The beat was dark, seductive, and you let yourself move to it, swaying your hips, letting the rhythm take you. His hands found your waist. You didn't stop him. His body pressed behind yours, chest to back, his lips brushing close to your ear every time he said something teasing.
His hand slid lower and you turned to face him, now chest to chest, bodies moving in sync.
He leaned in close, mouth brushing your ear. "You wanna go upstairs?"
You paused, swallowing hard. "Mmm... I don't know..."
He pulled back just enough to see your eyes. "Why not?"
"I don't want you to think I'm some kind of whore or something." You admitted, voice quieter now.
He blinked, then tilted his head, gaze softening just slightly. "Then let's not go upstairs."
You blinked at him, not responding.
He leaned closer again, voice husky. "Come here."
Before you could respond, he took your hand and led you down a dim hallway off the side of the living room, the noise of the party muffled behind you. It was quiet here, secluded . You were suddenly aware of how your pulse picked up.
He pushed you against the wall, hands bracing both sides of your head.
"This okay?" He asked.
You nodded slowly, heart racing and then his lips were on yours.
It was hot, insistent. His mouth moved like he already knew how you liked to be kissed— like you were meant to be tasted slowly, like his hands couldn't decide whether to cup your cheek or grip your hip tighter.
He pressed closer, lips trailing down your neck, his hand tugging lightly at the hem of your shirt. You gasped, your body reacting faster than your brain could catch up.
And then your phone buzzed, twice.
You broke the kiss breathless, and fished it from your back pocket. Jaemin.
"Clear. Let's go."
You looked up at Haechan, his lips kiss bitten.
"Aw, I gotta go." You said softly, smiling while biting your lip.
He blinked, still catching his breath. "Seriously?"
You said nothing, just shrugged.
He smirked, eyes glinting. "You leaving now makes me want you more."
You backed away slowly, keeping eye contact as you fixed your shirt. "Good."
You turned, leaving him in the hallway, the taste of tequila still tingling on your lips.
You met Jaemin at the front door just as he was coming down the porch steps, his hair slightly tousled, lips flushed, and a dazed kind of grin stretching across his face. His shirt was wrinkled, and he looked like he'd just barely remembered how to walk straight.
You raised an eyebrow, smoothing your own hair out with your fingers. "What took you so long?"
He laughed, wiping his mouth like he was still catching his breath. "Got caught up in the moment."
You rolled your eyes as you both started walking down the sidewalk, leaving the pulse of the party behind you.
"I've never seen you this messed up in person." He said, glancing at you.
You just shrugged, before turning to him. "How was your night?"
"Fucking amazing." He said, letting out a blissed sigh. "She was... yeah, worth it."
You smirked. "I'm happy for you. Sounds like you had fun."
He turned to look at you, a little more alert now. "What about you? How'd it go?"
You shrugged with a soft smile, brushing your fingers against your lips almost unconsciously. "It was... fun. He's fun and hot— too hot, honestly."
Jaemin groaned dramatically, dragging his hand down his face. "Oh god, please don't tell me you slept with him."
You gave him a shove. "No, chill. He tried like you said he would, but I didn't. We just made out."
Jaemin gasped. "Y/n, you definitely have like, mono now."
You laughed, shoving him again. "He's not that bad."
"He's that bad." Jaemin said, shooting you a look. "How was he looking at you? It was probably like he was deciding how to ruin your life in the hottest way possible."
You gave a dreamy little sigh. "Yeah... I noticed."
Jaemin gasped. "Oh my god, you're into him."
"No I'm not." You tucked your hands into your jacket pocket, smiling to yourself. "He's just... magnetic. Like, he knows exactly what to say and exactly how to look at you when he says it."
"Uh huh, that's called manipulation." Jaemin said.
"I mean, maybe." You admitted. "But he was also weirdly... sweet? Like, he actually listened to me talk and he didn't push when I said no."
Jaemin raised a skeptical brow. "Ok, maybe a half point for consent, but let's not pretend this is some romance. You got lucky. I've seen girls fall for his type before, and they don't come out looking as cute as you do right now."
You gave a laugh. "I don't think I'm going back anyway. Not my scene."
"Good." Jaemin said with a little relief in his voice. "Because he's probably not gonna let you step foot at another party anyways because you rejected him. That boy's ego is fragile."
You tilted your head thoughtfully. "Well, if I never plan on going back, it doesn't matter what he thinks of me."
Jaemin grinned. "And that's why I love you."
You rolled your eyes but smiled back. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever."
He reached over and draped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a sideways hug as you walked. "Seriously, thank you. You saved my ass tonight."
"I know I did." You grinned, letting yourself lean into him for a second. "You owe me, like, five coffees and a weekend of doing whatever I want."
"Done." He said immediately. "As long as 'whatever you want' doesn't include throwing yourself at Haechan again."
You laughed. "He threw himself at me, thank you very much."
"Right, right." He said, laughing. "Just remember who's actually got your back when you get those 'u up?' texts at 2 AM."
You gave a smile, already hearing the echo of Haechan's voice in your head, the taste of tequila and heat still lingering on your lips.
"I won't forget."
══════════════════════════
It had been about a week since the party, and life had mostly returned to normal. School, studying, sleep, repeat. But he kept showing up uninvited in the quiet moments between thoughts. The memory of his voice, the glint in his eyes, the way his hands felt when they slid around your waist like he'd done it a hundred times before. You hated how he stuck in your head.
Still, it was whatever. You weren't going to do anything about it. You had your routine, and it didn't include making out with cocky boys in back hallways at house parties.
You'd just wrapped up another cram session for your Thursday Bio test—highlighted notes and color coded flashcards spread across your desk, when you heard it. A familiar, echoing voice in the hallway.
"Y/n!"
You didn't even look up. "You never knock."
Jaemin burst into your room like he owned the place, arms wide, his signature grin already plastered on his face. "My beautiful Y/n, I have arrived."
You leaned back in your desk chair, crossing your arms. "I can see that."
He walked over to hug you, and you let him, even though you were still recovering from the mental strain of studying.
"You know." You mumbled as he pulled back. "One day you're going to bust in here and catch me changing or worse, touching myself."
"Even more reason to keep doing it." He smiled.
You rolled your eyes. "You're actually such a creep."
"Yeah, yeah." He laughed it off, but then paused. His smile lingered familiarly, but you saw the hesitation flicker in his eyes.
You squinted. "What do you want, Jaemin?"
He gasped dramatically. "Y/n! I'm hurt, you think I only come here when I need something?"
You gave him a look, one he couldn't argue with.
"Ok, fine." He said. "But in my defense, we help each other equally."
"You mean I help you and you buy me coffee once a month?"
"Exactly." He grinned.
You sighed. "What is it this time?"
Jaemin scratched the back of his neck. "So, remember how you said you wouldn't go back to the party again?"
You blinked slowly. "Yeah..."
"Well, technically I'm not asking you to go for you. I'm asking on behalf of... well, her. His sister, she invited me again, practically begged— and I think we both know how that's gonna go."
He glanced at you cautiously.
"And you want me to keep Haechan busy again." You finished for him, leaning back in your chair.
"Look, I wouldn't need you to, but it'd be... really helpful." He said carefully. "I just need him not in the way, just for a little while."
Your brain flickered back to Haechan. His smirk, the way he made you feel both seen and exposed. The way he leaned in like he already knew what you'd do next. You told yourself you were over it, just a one time heat of the moment thing. But even now, something twisted in your stomach at the thought of seeing him again.
"Listen, I know you said you're not—"
"I'm down." You said, the words escaping before your brain caught up.
Jaemin blinked. "Wait, seriously?"
You cleared your throat. "Yeah, sure. You need me, right?"
His eyes narrowed. "Wow you really like this guy."
You rolled your eyes. "I'm just looking out for a friend."
Jaemin crossed his arms, fake pouting. "I don't know, I'm reconsidering this whole plan now. First he gets the girl I liked, now it's my best friend? I might need to keep you on lockdown."
You smirked. "Maybe that was my plan all along, you should just stay in."
"Nope." He said, pointing at you. "We're going, but this is the last time, I swear. And for real, don't do anything with him. Now I'm actually worried."
You held up your hands in surrender. "It's my job to distract, that's what I'm gonna do."
"I don't know if I trust you with that anymore." He shook his head, even though he smiled.
"You should." You said quietly.
He paused. "I'm teasing." He said after a minute. "I do. I guess."
You just smiled, the kind that said you already made your decision.
The house was louder this time. Packed tighter, music thumping harder, the kind of base that made your bones vibrate. You stood with Jaemin for a moment, eyes scanning the crowd.
You told yourself this was just a favor, a distraction like last time.
But as soon as you saw him— Haechan, leaning casually against the kitchen counter, sipping something from a red cup with that lazy grin on his face, all of that logic began to melt.
He looked even better than you remembered. Black hoodie, chain peeking from under the collar, dark hair slightly damp.
He spotted you instantly, his smirk curling as he straightened up.
You glanced over at Jaemin. "You owe me."
"I owe you my life." He said, already making a beeline toward the stairs. And just like that, you were alone, again... with him.
Haechan pushed off the counter and met you halfway.
"Well, well." He said, voice low. "Look who came back for seconds."
You tilted your head. "Maybe I'm just here for the drinks."
His eyes scanned you, slow and deliberate. "You look like trouble tonight."
You stepped in, closing the gap just enough to be suggestive. "You think I wasn't trouble last time?"
He laughed, licking his lips. "No, last time you were temptation. Tonight? I don't think I'll be able to behave."
You let yourself smile just a little.
"Try to." You said, smirking as you hit Haechan's shoulder, weaving through the crowd and heading straight to the kitchen. The music thumped through the walls, as you grabbed a bottle of tequila from off the counter.
"You're already hurting my feelings." Haechan said from behind you, his voice dipping just enough to graze your nerves in that playful, confident way.
"How's that?" You asked turning, only for him to close the gap between you. His arms casually caging you against the counter, hands resting just close enough to your hips.
"Drinking without me." He said, smoothly taking the bottle from your hand like it belonged to him.
You tilted your head. "I'm sorry, who are you again?"
"You should know. It's my party, after all." He replied, that teasing grin never leaving his face as he leaned in just enough to test the space between you.
"You're cocky." You gave him a playful shove, but didn't move far.
"I'm Haechan. Who are you? I never got your name last time."
You raised an eyebrow. "Wow. Kissing a girl and not even knowing her name? I've heard about you, you know... what you do to girls, the type of person you are."
That made him pause for a second, his tongue darting out to wet his lips as he held your gaze. "But you're still here, aren't you?"
You didn't reply, just smiled slowly, head tilting amused at his boldness.
"So." He leaned in again. "Are you gonna leave me alone, or tell me your name?"
"Y/n."
"Pretty." He said, the smile that followed unusually soft, like he actually meant it.
You eyed the bottle still in his hand. "Are you just gonna stand there and smile at me, or pour the damn shots?"
"I thought you'd never ask." He reached past you, his arm brushing yours as he grabbed two shot glasses. His cologne hit you, mixing with the alcohol and the buzz in your chest.
The tequila burned on the way down, but it made your limbs feel warm, relaxed.
"Is tequila your favorite?" He asked, eyes not leaving you.
You shook your head, setting the glass down. "Vodka mixed drinks. I don't like taking things straight."
He grinned at that, grabbing a red solo cup. He poured vodka, rum, and a splash of something creamy and white—the scent immediately familiar.
"Pina colada mixer?" You asked, brow raised.
"You seem like the type. Plus, you told me last time." He said with a smile.
"You remembered?"
"Of course. You're kinda hard to forget." He said, clinking his cup to yours before sipping.
You looked down for a second, smile slipping in without warning. "I really shouldn't be talking to you."
"Says who?"
"Myself, my conscience."
He shrugged. "You're a big girl, smart too. You know what you're doing. Just let go a little, everything doesn't have to be heavy all the time."
You gave him a playful side eye. "No?"
"Nope. If it was, it wouldn't be fun."
Before you could reply, someone passed by and handed him what looked like a vape.
"Fuck yes." Haechan muttered, taking a long drag and exhaling slowly, the smoke curling out the side of his mouth.
He held it out. "Want a hit?"
"Nah, I don't vape."
He blinked a little surprised, then laughed. "Baby, this is a cart, not a vape."
"Oh." You giggled. "That makes sense. Smelled... different."
"So do you want it?" He asked again.
"I don't know, I don't really do drugs."
"It's just weed. It's chill— makes everything feel good." He said, his tone smooth, not pushy.
You hesitated, biting your lip.
"I'm not forcing you, but trust me— it's fine."
"...Okay, fine." You took the cart, cautiously bringing it to your lips and inhaling. It hit your lungs faster than you expected, making you cough, but after a few seconds you got used to it, taking a few more hits. Warmth spread through you, you felt light and weightless.
"Haechan." You murmured, blinking slowly, finishing the drink in your hand. "Let's dance."
He didn't argue. You pulled him onto the dance floor where bodies swayed and moved like one blur of motion, but you were only aware of him. His hands on your hips, guiding your movements. His breath brushing the curve of your neck. His mouth near enough to graze your ear when he laughed at something you said.
And then you kissed him.
You didn't think— your lips were on his, his hands tightening slightly on your waist as he melted into it. The kind of kiss that made everything else disappear.
"How about we take this up to my room?" He whispered into your mouth, voice low.
"I told you I felt like—"
"You're not a whore." He cut in gently. "I want you. That doesn't make you anything except someone I want."
You hesitated for a second, the distant part of your brain catching up. "I don't know, my friend might come looking for me. He was supposed to—"
"He's not here right now." Haechan's voice was low and coaxing. "You're here, with me. You can make your own decisions."
You didn't answer, just grabbed his hand and followed him upstairs.
You were halfway down the hallway, your heart fluttering, when you passed a room and the unmistakable sound of soft moaning filtered out from behind the closed door.
Haechan paused, head turning. "What the fuck?" He muttered, steps slowing.
Shit... Jaemin.
Before he could say anything more, you spun him to face you, grabbing his face urgently, your hands warm against his cheeks. His brows lifted in surprise.
"Focus on me." You whispered.
And then you kissed him again, deeper and slower this time. Your hands slid into his hair, pulling him closer as your bodies melted together. His hands found your waist again, but they didn't stop there, traveling up your sides, fingers over your bare skin as his mouth moved against yours with increasing hunger.
He backed you gently into the nearest wall, lips never leaving yours as the kiss deepened. Your back arched into his touch, your hands tugging at the collar of his shirt, desperate to feel more.
His mouth dragged from your lips down your jaw, kissing, teasing, then down your neck where he paused, sucking gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear.
"Room's this way." He murmured between kisses, and you followed him, half stumbling into his room, laughing softly as he shut the door behind you.
The moment it clicked shut, he was back on you, lips on your neck, hands guiding you toward the bed.
He pushed you down onto the bed, his body pressing against yours as he climbed on top. One hand slid roughly up your thigh, bunching your dress higher, never breaking contact with your neck as his mouth stayed hot against your skin.
His fingers played with the edge of your underwear for a moment, teasing, before pulling them down to your knees.
He paused then, lifting his head. His eyes met yours, and for just a second something shifted, uncertainty flickering across his face. He licked his lips like he was thinking, maybe even questioning, but before you could say anything, he lowered himself again, kissing a slow path down your body, lips soft against your thigh.
His breath was warm against your skin as he kissed the inside of your thigh, slow and steady, his hands holding your legs apart. Every movement felt like he wanted to make sure you felt everything— every kiss, every brush of his lips.
He glanced up at you once more, eyes darker now, the hesitation from before gone. Then he lowered his head again, his mouth finding the tender spot just above your knee, then higher. His fingers slid up your thighs, anchoring you in place as his mouth moved closer, teasing you.
You could feel your body tightening beneath him, breath catching in your throat as he finally reached your folds, his lips brushing against your clit, gentle at first.
Then he gave in completely, his mouth working you with focus, his hands gripping your hips like he never wanted to let go.
His tongue slid over you as he teased you with soft flicks and gentle pressure, each movement sending a wave of heat through your body. Your hips shifted under his touch, instinctively searching for more, but he held you steady, his grip firm on your thighs.
He looked up at you again, eyes heavy, mouth glistening. Then he dove back in, hungrier this time, his tongue moving with purpose now, circling, pressing. The sounds he made vibrated against you, adding to the overwhelming sensation building fast inside you.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, needing something to hold onto as he drove you higher. He responded to every twitch, every gasp, adjusting his pace, his pressure, as if he could read exactly what your body craved.
Then he slid one finger inside you slowly, deeply, curling just right. The rhythm of his hand and mouth worked in perfect sync, pulling you closer to the edge with each passing second.
That's when your phone buzzed, the vibration low, but sharp against the haze in your mind. Your eyes blinked open, lashes heavy as you glanced down. A message lit up the screen.
Jaemin [1:35 AM]:
"I'm ready. Meet me outside."
"Ignore it." Haechan murmured against your thigh, voice deep and muffled. His lips brushed warm against your skin, but your eyes stayed on the message.
"Mmm... I have to go." You said, sitting up slowly, the daze of alcohol and drug weighing your limbs.
"What?" He asked, looking up at you with hooded eyes, lips still wet.
You smiled, pushing hair from your face as you stood fully. "Leaving you on a cliffhanger again."
"You're evil." He smirked lazily.
"Mm, bite me." You teased with a wink, turning for the door.
"Wait." He cut through.
You paused, glancing back over your shoulder with a raised brow.
"Can I at least get your number or something?"
You shook your head, a quiet laugh slipping past your lips. "Where's the fun in that?"
And then you were gone, the door clicking shut behind you. Haechan just smiled to himself, letting out a breath as he ran a hand through his hair. "Unbelievable."
Outside, the cool air hit your flushed cheeks as you stumbled into the night, spotting Jaemin.
"There she is." He grinned. "Somebody's fucked."
"You are too, shut up." You giggled, smacking his chest lightly.
"Nah, just you. I'm only a little bit drunk." He gave you that smug, crooked smile that always made your stomach flip.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever." You muttered with a grin, stumbling into him slightly.
His arm came around your shoulders without thinking steadying you, but then he stopped, glancing at your face more closely, his smile fading.
"Y/n." He said slowly. "Are you... high?"
You paused, lips parting like you hadn't even thought to lie. "Maybe." You giggled.
Jaemin stared at you, concern overtaking every line of his face. "You never do that shit... you barely drink anymore— what the hell happened?"
"Relax, Jaem. It was just weed, a few hits. I'm fine."
"You could've had a bad trip." He said, eyes narrowing. "Or what if it was laced? You don't know who the fuck gave you that. You don't know what could've happened—"
"Can you chill?" You said, laughing. "You sound like my parent."
"That's what I gotta be when you do stupid shit like this." His voice dropped, rough with something deeper. "I just... I don't want anything bad to happen to you."
You smiled. "I'm fine, I swear."
"Alright. I'm staying at your place tonight."
"Damn, thanks for asking."
He gave you a look and just giggled again.
When you got home, your shoes hit the floor one by one as you peeled off your jacket, then the thin dress that clung to your skin. You collapsed face first into your bed in only your bra and underwear, the sheets cool against your flushed skin.
Jaemin followed behind. He dropped into your desk chair with a heavy exhale, pulling his hoodie off and tossing it aside. He leaned back, phone in hand, scrolling casually.
"You look good in this lighting." You said, voice smooth and thick as you propped yourself up on your elbows.
He looked up at you over his screen, lips quirking. "You're really saying that right now?"
"Mmhmm." You let your eyes drag down his figure slowly. "You've always been pretty Jaemin."
He laughed under his breath, glancing back at his phone, but not before you caught the slight flush in his cheeks.
You sat up more, letting your legs dangle over the side of the bed, posture relaxed, but eyes sharp with mischief.
"Come here." You said.
He raised an eyebrow. "To the bed?"
"Yeah, just wanna be close."
He hesitated for half a moment before standing. "You're so high." He muttered with a smirk, making his way over. He sat beside you, hands propped behind him on the mattress.
You leaned into him, fingers brushing up his arm softly. "You smell good." You murmured, eyes locked on his lips.
"Do I?" He asked, amusement threading through his voice.
"You always do." Your fingers trailed over his chest now, dragging down to his stomach. His muscles tightened slightly beneath your touch, but he didn't stop you. "And your skin's soft..."
Jaemin watched you, breath slower now. "You're really flirting with me right now?"
"I'm not flirting." You said, tone quiet. "I'm appreciating."
Your lips ghosted along his jaw, then lower to the curve of his neck. He tilted his head slightly, allowing the contact. You kissed him there— slowly, sensual, your lips lingering just a second too long.
He swallowed hard.
"I know you like it." You whispered.
His hand slid instinctively to your thigh, gripping gently as your lips traced down the side of his throat. He leaned into it, breathing deep through his nose.
But then—
"Wait." He said suddenly, pulling back. "I can't."
You blinked, stunned by the shift. "Why not?" You asked, voice low as you stared up at him.
"You're my best friend." He said, the words stuttering off his tongue.
"Oh, but when you ask to fuck me it's a different story?"
"It is." He said.
"Mmm, really?" You smirked, sliding your hand up his torso again, fingers trailing.
"Yes." He said firmly. "You're not sober and you don't actually want me right now, you're just under the influence... as fuck."
"I always want you." You said, eyes locked on his.
He sighed, the tension in his body slowly fading into something softer. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you against him gently, tucking you under his chin.
"Please go to sleep, Y/n. I'm right here, just rest."
And... you listened. Eyes fluttering closed, breath slowing as the world dimmed into his warmth.
══════════════════════════
Your eyes fluttered open, vision blurry and head pounding. The sunlight filtered weakly through the curtains. You slowly sat up, blinking against the ache throbbing in your skull.
Jaemin was sprawled next to you on top of the blankets, one leg stretched over the edge of the bed, scrolling casually through his phone.
He glanced over. "Relax, it's just me." He said, offering a small smile.
You exhaled deeply, rubbing your temples with your fingers. A sharp pain spiked behind your eyes, a groan escaping your lips as you reached for your head.
"Here." Jaemin said, reaching down for a plastic bag on the floor. "I got you some water, some food, and Advil— for your headache." He set it on the bed beside you.
"How'd you know I have a headache?" You asked, unscrewing the cap of the water and popping the pills into your mouth.
"Jesus, Y/n." He scoffed, sitting up straighter. "You were shit faced last night, obviously you're gonna have a hangover."
"Right." You said with a smile. "Thank you for taking care of me."
"Yeah, of course." He returned the smile briefly, his attention sliding back to his phone.
Silence settled between you, but it wasn't entirely comfortable. Your brain was still catching up to reality, glimpses of last night flickering through your mind in half lit flashes. Laughter, music, moaning in the hallway. Haechan, and Jaemin... your heart beat a little harder at that last part.
"Hey..." You started cautiously. "Did we—" You hesitated. "We didn't do anything, did we?"
He chuckled, but didn't answer right away. The silence stretched a second too long, just enough to make your stomach flip.
"You tried." He said finally, his voice was calm, almost amused, but the words made your chest tighten. "But I stopped it, and you went to sleep— so, all clear." He gave you a lazy smile.
"Phew." You exhaled, falling back onto your pillow in relief.
"Damn." He teased, raising a brow. "Am I that bad?"
"No, no." You said quickly, laughing. "I just don't want to make you uncomfortable or anything."
"All good over here, you don't." He replied, eyes flickering back to his phone.
You shook your head, grinning. "Damn, I'm such a horny freak."
"I see how you get when you're drunk... and high." He added, glancing over at you, disappointment flickering in his gaze.
"Stop, Jaemin." You groaned, pushing his shoulder playfully.
"I'm still disappointed about that." He said, his voice a little firmer. "You need to be more careful. That's the last time you're going there ever again."
"You can't tell me what to do." You teased, lips quirking into a smile.
"Ahh, I guess I can't." He said dramatically, reaching over and grabbing the bag of food.
"Stop, give it." You laughed, stretching across him to snatch it back. Your fingers brushed against his hand, and your eyes caught his for a long, silent moment.
Your voice softened. "You know... I'm seriously grateful that you take care of me when I need it."
He blinked, lips twitching into a small smile. "Yeah, yeah. Now can you eat?"
You nodded, finally opening the container and taking a bite of food. "I almost accidentally got you caught, but I saved it." You said between bites, your voice cheeky.
"How, come?" He asked, only half listening as he scrolled.
"We came upstairs and we heard moaning." You said with a grin. "I'm guessing your party."
"You came upstairs to do what?" He looked up sharply now, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
You didn't respond, just smiled to yourself as you continued chewing.
"Did you fuck him?" He asked suddenly, sitting up straighter, eyes locked on yours.
"No, no." You answered quickly. "He just gave me head." Your voice was quieter now, but the confession hung in the air.
"He gave you head?" Jaemin blinked, dumbfounded. "YOU?" He repeated. "And he didn't get anything else from you? No sex, no head, not even a handjob?"
You shook your head. "Nope."
"Dude, he never does that... ever." He looked like he was short circuiting. "What's up with these guys just giving you head man? I'm impressed."
"First off, it only happened once before, so don't do that, and you know we don't talk about him, ok?" You said in a on edge voice.
"Ok, ok." He held up his hands in surrender.
"I guess I just gave the magic touch." You said with a smug smile.
"Damn, me next!" He cheered jokingly, grinning.
"Shit, maybe." You said with a smirk. "Haechan didn't even make me finish— well, because we were interrupted by someone." You shot him a playful look.
"Aw shucks." He said, chuckling. "Jaemin here to crash the party always."
"Partially." You replied. "I think he's not done with me though. Before I left, he asked for my number."
"He asked for your number— like, first? While you were leaving him?" Jaemin exclaimed, eyes wide with disbelief.
"Yep." You said.
"Did you give it to him?" He asked, leaning in like a gossipy teen.
"Nah. I don't think that's someone I should have access to at all times— for my own safety you know." You said, giggling.
"You're so smart, that's why I love you so, so much." He said with a bright smile... before it faltered slightly.
"I'm not smart for not giving him my number. I'm just not dumb." You said, brushing off the moment.
He recovered with a quick grin. "Maybe you aren't as bright as I thought, because that is the same thing."
"Shut up." You laughed, nudging his shoulder.
"Damn, I actually can't believe he did all this for you." Jaemin said, eyes wide again. "Nothing wrong with you of course, but he just— never acts that way with anyone. You might be his soulmate."
"Ew, shut up. Yes he's hot, but I could never imagine dating someone like him." You said, scrunching your nose.
"Good, because I doubt you're welcomed at any more parties after the double rejection you gave him." He said with a laugh.
"Didn't you say that the last time?"
"Yeah, but I mean it this time. You rejected him like four times."
"Okay, enough Haechan talk." You set the now empty container aside and leaned back. "I appreciate everything, but you should get going to freshen up. Plus, I have class in like an hour."
"You're still going?" He asked, brows raising.
"Absolutely, I'd never miss class."
"Okay, well..." He rubbed the back of his neck, hesitant. "Do you think we can meet up for dinner later?"
You paused, your tone shifting gently. "I think I need to be alone right now. I also have a project due on Tuesday that I'm cramming for because I got a little lazy. Let's meet... maybe Wednesday?"
He nodded. "Sounds good." With one last smile he stood up, grabbing his hoodie off the chair and slipping it on.
══════════════════════════
It was finally Wednesday, after days of cramming, sleepless nights, you had just submitted your project and shut your laptop with a dramatic sigh of relief. You sprawled out on your bed for a moment, eyes fluttering closed, the weight of the past few days slowly lifting off your shoulders.
The front door creaked open and slammed shut again, followed by the familiar shuffle of sneakers on hardwood.
"Yo." He called out, stepping into your room with a plastic takeout bag in hand.
You propped yourself up on your elbows, noticing something was off immediately. His voice lacked its usual playful energy. No cheeky grin, no snarky comment about your workaholic tendencies, just... a weird kind of stillness in his tone.
"What's up?" You asked, brows furrowing slightly at his hesitance.
He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing down for a second before meeting your gaze again. "I need you to come to the party with me again."
You blinked, half in disbelief. "Again?" You let out a soft giggle, sitting up fully. "Weren't you the one who banned me from that place like... twice?"
"Yeah, I know." He said with a sigh, plopping down beside you on the bed and setting the takeout between you. "But you're the only one who can distract Haechan well it appears, and fuck, that girl is so—"
He stopped himself mid sentence, biting his tongue. You stared at him, your smile fading slightly. He was always joking— even when things were serious, but right now he looked more anxious than amused.
"Right." You said slowly, nodding as you studied his face. You didn't press it— whatever that girl meant, you could guess, and it wasn't your place to dig.
"So... will you?" He asked again, voice low.
You hesitated for a second before shrugging. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."
His shoulders relaxed, just a little, and the smallest hint of a smile broke through. "You're a lifesaver."
You reached into the takeout bag, pulling out your container with a soft smirk. "You owe me something good for this."
"Oh, I got you extra fries." He said quickly, handing the container toward you like it was a peace offering.
You rolled your eyes. "Bribery works I guess."
══════════════════════════
The party was already fill by the time you and Jaemin arrived per usual. As soon as you stepped inside, Jaemin melted into the crowd like a ghost.
You didn't even bother calling after him. You just sighed, brushing past a couple making out near the stairs as you made your way to the kitchen. You needed a drink.
The fridge was wide open, someone rummaging through it carelessly. You reached past them for a can of something and cracked it open, sipping without thinking.
"Is this gonna be a pattern?" A familiar voice teased from behind you.
You turned, already knowing who it was, of course.
There he stood, eyes on you like you were the only person in the room. His head tilted just slightly, like he was already amused.
You crossed your arms and let out a short sigh. "Is what a pattern?"
"You drinking without me." He said smoothly.
You shook your head, watching as he took a sip from his own cup. "You're drinking without me too, so I'm not sure that makes sense."
"Just casually." He grinned, his voice light. "Take a shot with me."
You eyed him for a second, then gave a small nod. He reached over to the counter, pouring two uneven shots, one for each of you.
You raised yours with a quiet "cheers" before knocking it back. The alcohol settled in your stomach, hot and quick.
"You know I'm not doing anything with you, right?" You said once the warmth hit your chest.
He raised a brow, grin widening. "Did I ask?"
You huffed a soft laugh, unable to hide the way your lips curved despite your better judgment and his smirk deepened like he won something.
"It's loud in here, come outside with me." He said, already reaching for the bottle again, refilling both your cups without waiting for an answer.
You hesitated, something in you buzzing—nerves or excitement, you weren't sure, but you nodded anyway.
Outside, the backyard was a complete contrast to the chaos inside. Quieter, almost peaceful. Blue and purple led lights in the pool, casting a neon glow in the water. The heat of the night clung to your skin, but the moment you dipped your feet into the cool pool, relief washed over you.
He sat beside you, pulling a pre rolled blunt from his pocket and lit it with a flick of a lighter. For a second, the flame highlighted his face, features softened by the glow.
"How are you?" He asked, voice quieter now. "How was your week?"
You turned to him, blinking. "You actually care? Wow, that's new."
"You're so negative." He said, exhaling smoke before offering it to you.
You stared at it for a moment, fingers twitching slightly. Then you took it, bringing it to your lips and inhaling slow. You held it for a second before letting it go with a sigh.
"I'm cautious." You murmured, passing it back.
"Mmm." He hummed, nodding, puffing again.
"Why do you never disagree? Defend yourself when people say shit about you?" You questioned, turning to him.
"Because it's true. I'm not afraid to admit it." He said, exhaling slowly. "But sometimes people talk and over exaggerate, make it seem like I'm just heartless. If they're scared and stay away, that's their problem. But if they know what they're getting into— or think they do, then why should I waste my energy proving them wrong? In my eyes, they're just as fucked up as me."
You were quiet for a moment, then nodded slightly in agreement. He passed the blunt again, and you took two more puffs in silence. It wasn't awkward, just still.
"So." You eventually said, eyes drifting to the lit up pool. "How do you have such a big house as a college student?"
"My parents." He replied, tone casual. "They pay for everything while they go prance around in different countries, leaving me and my siblings behind."
"Siblings?" You echoed, surprised. You knew he had a sister, but hadn't heard anything about more.
"Yep. A younger sister and brother." He said, taking another hit. "My sister's a junior, doesn't live with me, but I keep a guest room here for when she wants a break from her roommates."
"And your brother?"
"He's a sophomore, goes to college a few hours from here— said he wanted a fresh start. I still check in with him a few times a week. He's had his ups and downs, but he's a good kid."
"I get that." You said. "I went somewhere else freshman year too. Only stayed for a year before transferring back here this year."
"So you are a sophomore." He said, nodding. "I figured."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
He only shrugged, sipping his drink.
"What's your story?" He asked, glancing over. "Why'd you want a fresh start?"
"My mom died about two years ago." You said, the words escaping before you could filter them.
His face shifted. "Oh shit, I'm sorry."
"It's good." You said quickly, brushing it off. "It's actually kind of stupid, out of all the drugs, she died from weed. It was laced."
"Damn." He muttered. "Is that why you were so hesitant earlier?"
You nodded. "Yeah. People don't realize how terrifying it is, it's real."
"Fuck, now I feel like an asshole." He said, running a hand through his hair, a tired chuckle leaving his mouth as he put the blunt out.
"Don't." You told him. "You gotta grow up and not be scared sometimes. Plus, I can make my own decisions."
There was a pause before you added with a lazy smile, "I don't even know why I'm talking to you."
"What— because I'm 'evil'?" He teased, one brow rising.
You laughed. "No. Because you're a stranger."
He leaned back dramatically. "Wow, you kissed a stranger. What did you say? Whore."
"Oh, shut up." You rolled your eyes. "I guess you're not too much of a stranger."
"Exactly." He grinned. "But sometimes you just need someone to be there for you, stranger or not."
His eyes lingered on you now, more serious than before. "But... we don't have to stay strangers— I don't think we should."
You raised a brow.
"Just give me your number." He said, voice softer.
You squinted at him, half amused. "Is that what this was all about?"
"No." He said quickly, then paused. "I just... you're different and I'm curious about you."
"Curiosity." You said, rolling your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at your lips.
"There's nothing wrong with that, is there?" He leaned a little closer. "We should just mess around, find out more about each other. You must be curious too?"
You stared at him for a second, lips pressing into a tight line. "I'm not."
"Ouch." He laughed, not entirely believing you, but to his credit, he didn't push.
You paused, then let out a sigh. "Fine, I'll give you my number."
His grin widened as he pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to you.
"Thank you." He said genuinely.
"Maybe now we don't have to only talk to each other on Thursdays." You said, punching in your digits and handing it back.
"Mmm." He smiled, his gaze lingering on you.
As if on cue, your phone lit up with a text.
Jaemin [12:58 AM]:
"Let's go."
You looked up, Haechan already watching you.
"Well, I've got to go." You said, standing and brushing off your skirt.
"Is there a night where you're not gonna leave me?" He asked, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he looked up at you.
"Mm... don't hold your breath." You smirked, waving before slipping back inside.
Jaemin was waiting by the door, hands in his pockets, a smile on his face.
"Well, well." He said as you approached. "What did you do tonight?"
"My job." You said with a giggle, eyes slightly hooded from the buzz in your system.
"Oh, you're high again?" His smile faded just a bit.
"Yeah, not a big deal." You said, casually hooking your arm around his like it was second nature.
"Right, and I can't even stay with you tonight."
"Why not?" You asked, looking up at him.
"Because you can't control yourself under the influence." He said bluntly.
"Wow, don't say that." You laughed. "I'm not even that fucked up, I could totally control myself."
"Right." He smirked. "But I probably can't."
"Yeah... maybe you shouldn't stay with me tonight then." You teased.
He let out a short laugh, shaking his head as the two of you disappeared into the night.
══════════════════════════
Saturday | 11:37 PM
You were curled up in bed, knees tucked beneath you, your laptop warming your thighs as the glow of the screen illuminated your face. The essay you've been chipping away at all day was only half done, and your focus was slipping fast. You already reread the same paragraph three times when your phone buzzed on the nightstand.
Unknown Number [11:37 PM]:
"Come over. Chill for a bit."
Your brow furrowed as you set your laptop aside and picked up the phone, thumb hovering over the screen.
You [11:37 PM]:
"Who is this?"
You already had a guess, but you weren't about to make it easy.
A few seconds passed.
Unknown Number [11:38 PM]:
"You know who it is."
You let out a quiet scoff, one corner of your mouth curling into a smirk, of course it was him.
You [11:39 PM]:
"Mmm, no I don't. So I guess that's a no."
Another pause, longer this time.
Unknown Number [11:40 PM]:
"Come over. Please."
Your thumb hovered again. You should've just gone back to your work, should've tossed your phone aside and shut the whole thing down.
You [11:41 PM]:
"I seriously can't, busy rn."
Unknown Number [11:41 PM]:
"Bummer."
You stared at the message, your bedroom suddenly too quiet. The flicker of curiosity and something else sat in your chest.
You [11:42 PM]:
"You can come over later though. We could watch a movie or something."
His response was fast.
Unknown Number [11:42 PM]:
"Later? It's already 11."
You [11:43 PM]:
"Ok, then don't."
Silence. Then...
Unknown Number [11:44 PM]:
Send the address.
You hesitated, biting your lip for a minute too long. Then you dropped a pin and hit send.
1:27 AM
You opened the door, blinking against the cooler air spilling into the hallway. Haechan stood there, hair tousled, a six pack of drinks in one hand and a smirk pulling at his lips.
"Didn't think you'd actually send it." He said, stepping inside without waiting.
"Didn't think you'd actually come." You replied, locking the door behind him.
"We're just sitting in the living room." You said, already making your way towards the couch.
"Perfect." He said, slipping off his jacket and tossing it over the armrest as he followed.
You pulled up something half decent on Netflix, something neither of you would end up watching, and settled in. He handed you a drink, and you clinked your cans together quietly.
He was the first to speak.
"How've you been? Since Thursday." He asked, voice soft, watching you from the side.
You took a slow sip, eyes on the screen. "Busy. Regretting life decisions."
He chuckled, amused. "Yeah, which ones?"
"Letting you text me."
A grin tugged at his mouth as he leaned back, one arm draping lazily along the back of the couch. "You're the one who invited me, sweetheart."
"You begged."
"I don't beg."
You gave him a look. "You literally said please."
"I'm just a convincer." He shot back smoothly.
"Manipulator." You corrected with a smile.
He laughed again, reaching into his pocket. "Mind if I hit this?"
You glanced at the sleek cart between his fingers, then at the hallway.
"Even though my roommates aren't here, they're still strict about smoking in shared spaces." You said. "No vape, no carts— none of it."
He blinked, pausing. "Damn. I can go if—"
"No." You interrupted, standing. "We can go to my room."
His eyebrows arched in interest as he rose to follow.
Your room was dim and cozy, washed in soft fairy lights. You pushed the door closed behind him and leaned against it for a moment before crossing to the bed.
"This is cute." He said, looking around. "You always have a vibe."
"Try not to ruin it." You said, climbing onto the bed and settling into the pillows. He leaned against your desk, then raised the cart again and took a slow pull, the scent hitting your nose.
"You want?" He asked.
You rose from the bed, stepping toward him and plucked it from his fingers without breaking eye contact.
His brows lifted. "Woah."
You rolled your eyes. "Don't be selfish now."
He smirked, but his voice dropped just slightly as he teased, "What if it's laced?"
"Not funny." You said.
He held his hands up, surrendering, though his grin said he enjoyed every second.
You took a slow puff and handed it back.
"That's all I'm doing." You murmured.
But that wasn't true.
Time slipped, the air thickened, you kept passing it back and forth, voices growing lower, laughter softening.
At some point, you looked up and noticed he was still standing.
"You've been standing there whole time." You said, eyes a little glassy, lashes fluttering as you sat up straighter.
"Yeah, I know. Why?" He asked, inching closer.
"Just curious why you don't want to be near me." You said with a teasing shrug.
He stepped in front of you now, close enough that you could see the shift in his expression. "I'm near." He murmured.
"Not close enough." Your voice was soft but firm as you reached out, trailing your hands up his arm and guiding it onto your shoulder.
His fingers stayed, curling gently over your skin. His gaze dropped to your lips, then flicked back up.
"Don't look at me like that." He said, eyes low.
"Like what?" You asked, guiding his arm again until his hand cupped your jaw.
"Like you want me to ruin the night."
His hand lingered against your cheek, the warmth of his palm spreading through your skin. Your breath hitched, fingers curling softly around his wrist.
You tugged him closer, his face now just inches from yours as he leaned over you, one hand settling on your thigh. "Maybe I do."
He closed the distance between you instantly, his lips crashing against yours with desperately. The hand that had been gently cupping your cheek slid to the back of your neck, fingers curling as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.
Your hands found the hem of his shirt, gripping it tightly as you tugged, urging him to shed the barrier between you. He broke the kiss just long enough to pull the shirt over his head, tossing it aside. His sweats hung low on his hips, revealing the sharp lines of his v-line.
He climbed fully onto the bed, hovering over you, claiming your lips in a heated, breathless kiss. His hands moved, tugging your shirt and pajama shorts off in one swift motion, never once breaking eye contact, the intensity in his gaze made your breath catch.
He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another kiss— wet and messy. As his mouth moved against yours, he nudged your legs apart with his own, his knee slipping between them, pressing softly against your heat.
His lips left yours only to travel down your neck, trailing gentle kisses that quickly turned rougher. He latched onto a sensitive spot just below your jaw, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. The sensation paired with the slow pressure of his knee drew soft moans from your lips. Your fingers found his hair, tangling in it as your hips shifted unconsciously in response.
"I don't have a condom." He murmured, his breath warm against your neck.
You were just about to leave it, but Jaemin's voice sounded in your head: "Don't let him fuck you raw."
Without thinking, you reached over to your nightstand, fingers finding the familiar shape of a silver foil square that you got a few weeks back. You pressed it to his chest, your eyes meeting his.
He paused, a slow amused smile spreading across his lips. A soft chuckle escaped him. "Smart." He said under his breath.
He rose to his feet, pushing his sweats and boxers down in one fluid motion. Tearing the foil open with his teeth, discarding the wrapper carelessly onto the floor, then rolled the condom on with ease, his eyes never straying far from you.
He grabbed your legs with firm hands, dragging you to the edge of the bed, his gaze locked onto yours intensely. Without a word, he hooked his fingers into your underwear and yanked them down, leaving you bare beneath him.
He leaned in again, capturing your lips in another deep kiss. His mouth moved over yours, but as you pulled back your eyes shimmered.
"I haven't— this is my first time." You admitted, voice barely above a whisper, breathless and shaking.
For a moment everything stilled. His expression shifted, something flickering behind his eyes— part surprise, part fascination.
"I'll try to be gentle." He said softly, his voice low and tight with restraint.
He stood, hands skimming down the length of your legs until they reached beneath your knees. He lifted them slowly, spreading you open softly.
He positioned himself between your legs, his body tense. He paused, eyes locked on yours for a moment, as if waiting for any sign of hesitation.
Then he pushed into you. The sting was sharp, and you gasped, your breath catching. He froze for a second, his forehead pressing lightly against yours.
"Breathe." He whispered, his voice rough. He gave you a moment, just enough to adjust before he asked, "Ok?"
You nodded, too breathless to say anything, but when you didn't pull away he pushed further, the pace picking up as he moved into you again, harder and deeper this time.
He gripped your legs tightly, forcing you open as he thrusted into you, his movements rougher now, more desperate. The initial sting quickly faded into a pulsing heat that had you gasping with every thrust, each push a little harder than the last.
"You feel so fucking good." He muttered, voice thick with desire. His hands tightened on your legs, and he slammed into you with more urgency, his pace picking up, rougher and less controlled. The air was thick with the sound of skin meeting skin, the room vibrating.
The tension in your body kept building, the pleasure mixing with the intensity of each thrust. His breath was uneven and shallow as he moved faster, harder, his grip tightening. There was no slowing down now.
"Fuck." He groaned, his movements becoming more erratic, less restrained. "So fucking perfect."
The care he showed earlier was gone. His pace didn't slow, only grew faster, more frantic. Each thrust hit deeper, more forceful, and you could feel every inch of him filling you completely. You clung to him, nails digging into his skin as he fucked into you without restraint.
The sounds of your bodies crashing together filled the air, a mix of moans, heavy breathing, and the wet, slick noise of each push. He didn't give you time to adjust, didn't pause to check in again. He just kept going, his grip tightening on your legs, forcing them open even wider as he moved harder.
The pleasure was building, overwhelming you, the pressure mounting with every thrust. Your body felt like it was on fire, heat pooling low in your stomach as his thrusts drove you closer to the edge.
"You like that, huh?" He groaned, his voice rough. His eyes flickered down to where you were joined, watching how he moved inside you. "You're so fucking tight."
You couldn't form words anymore, only moans escaping your lips as your hips instinctively moved against him, meeting each thrust, urging him deeper. Every motion felt like a jolt of electricity running through you, tightening your core, making everything spin.
His hand slid down from your legs, gripping your waist as he pulled you closer, driving into you with more force. The friction built, sending waves of pleasure crashing over you.
"God, I'm gonna make you cum." He grunted, his own pace stammering just slightly as his own release neared. "Hold on."
His hips snapped into yours recklessly, his movements growing more urgent. His grip on your waist tightened as he pounded into you, each thrust harder than the last, the sound of your skin meeting his filling the room.
"You feel fucking amazing." He whimpered, his voice strained, the force of his movements making your whole body shake beneath him.
He cursed under his breath as your nails scraped down his back, and with one last, brutal thrust, you felt everything snap—your body tensing, your legs trembling as the pressure exploded inside you. A loud, breathless moan escaped your lips as your orgasm ripped through you, your whole body convulsing around him.
He didn't stop though, didn't give you a second to breathe. His thrusts only grew more erratic, chasing his own release as you clenched around him, each movement pushing him closer to the edge.
"Fuck, yes." He groaned, his eyes locked onto yours as he slammed into you again.
"I'm there..." He buried his face into your neck, movements sloppy as he finally came, his body shaking as he released with a low groan.
He collapsed against you, his body still trembling, his breath coming in ragged gasps. For a moment neither of you moved, lying there tangled together, trying to catch your breath. His head rested on your shoulder, his chest rising and falling against yours. The tension in his muscles slowly started to melt away, and you felt the steady rhythm of his heart begin to slow.
He shifted slightly, pulling back just enough to look at you, his gaze softer now. His fingers traced the curve of your cheek, brushing away a strand of hair.
"Are you okay?" He asked, his voice quieter now.
You nodded, unable to find the words just yet. He gave a small smile. "I didn't mean to... push too hard."
You shook your head, pressing your palm to his chest. "It was... good." You whispered, your voice still shaky, but calm now.
"Good." He murmured again.
══════════════════════════
The day after – 1:18 PM
You woke up to loud, insistent banging on your door.
You blinked your eyes open, lashes heavy with sleep, your body sore and aching in ways that immediately brought back hazy memories of the night before. You reached for your phone on the nightstand, and the screen lit up— four unread messages, all from Jaemin.
Jaemin [12:38 PM]:
"u want chicken tenders or a burger?"
Jaemin [12:44 PM]:
"Hello? I need u to hurry I'm in line."
Jaemin [12:57 PM]:
"Just got chicken tenders u took too long, otw."
Jaemin [1:17 PM]:
"Dude, open the door wtf?"
Your stomach dropped... shit.
It was Sunday, your Sunday. Movies and lunch with Jaemin, your thing since middle school, the one routine neither of you ever skipped and was always on time for.
You sat up too quickly and instantly regretted it. A sharp pulse radiated through your thighs, your knees folded slightly beneath you as you stood. You hissed through your teeth, muttering a quiet curse. The soreness, the silence in the room, the disheveled sheets tangled behind you and...
No Haechan, not a trace.
You probably weren't going to hear from him again. If anything, he'd gotten exactly what he wanted and maybe... so had you.
You slipped into the first pair of underwear you could find, pulling on an oversized t-shirt and not even checking the mirror. You couldn't be bothered. Your body felt heavier than usual, limbs slow, mind foggy.
You stumbled to the door, fingers fumbling over the lock before it clicked open. Jaemin stood there with a takeout bag in one hand and annoyance on his face. "Where the fuck—" He froze.
His expression shifted fast, first frustration then concern as his eyes scanned your face, your hair, the obvious haze of sleep in your eyes. "Are you okay?"
You nodded once, voice scratchy. "Yeah. Just... come in."
You turned around, not realizing how stiffly you were walking until you heard his voice again behind you.
"You're walking weird."
You glanced over your shoulder, trying to play it off. "I just woke up, Jaem."
But his brows drew together, and he followed you with quiet suspicion. He spun once in your desk chair before planting his feet and letting his eyes roam, and stopped.
You didn't notice at first, but his gaze lingered just a little too long on your neck.
"Those weren't there last time I saw you." He said.
You forced a small laugh, brushing your hair back casually. "What, you keeping track now?"
"It's hard not to when it looks like someone marked you up like a vampire." He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes.
You turned away, cheeks flushing, but you stayed silent.
He held up the takeout bag. "I got you food, don't know if you saw my text."
"I didn't." You said, hovering at the edge of your bed. "But thanks, I'm starving."
He smiled for real this time, but just as he reached to hand you the bag something on the floor caught his attention.
His hand froze mid air. He bent slightly, reaching down beside your nightstand. A second later, you watched his fingers close around a small, crinkled square of foil.
An empty condom wrapper.
He stared at it, his jaw twitching once before he tossed it into the trash without another word.
The air in the room changed instantly. You stood still, frozen as he looked at you.
You tried to lighten the mood, your voice forced. "The one you gave me, remember?"
But he didn't smile, didn't even blink. His voice dropped, almost too calm. "Did you...?"
You hesitated, then sighed. "Yeah. Last night."
He blinked once, and then again. He opened his mouth, but for a second, no sound came out. "Thought you were saving yourself."
You gave a slight shrug, arms folding across your chest. "Guess I changed my mind."
Another moment of silence. He tilted his head slightly, a ghost of a smile on his lips now, confused. "Who was the lucky guy?"
You hesitated, biting your bottom lip.
His eyes narrowed before he scoffed. "I know that face... no way."
Still, you said nothing.
He let out a short, stunned laugh, humorless. "No fucking way." Jaemin stood up, the desk chair creaking loudly behind him.
You met his gaze, heart thudding. "Jaem—"
"You let him?" His voice rose, disbelief mixed with something else— hurt, maybe. "Out of all people, him? Seriously? What, he texted you 'come over' and you just—fucking hell Y/n."
"It wasn't like that." You murmured.
"You ghost me for hours, you never miss our Sundays. I show up and you're sore and covered in hickeys—"
"I was asleep, Jaemin."
He scoffed. "Name one time you've ever slept past noon this year?"
You stayed silent.
"Exactly."
"I didn't plan for it to happen." You said quietly.
"That's the problem... he did!" He snapped. "I didn't think you were so easy. What, he called you pretty and that's enough for you to spread your legs?"
"No, I—"
"What, you've known this guy for like a month? You knew he just wanted to use you and you went along with it?"
"I was okay with that! That's what I wanted."
"You were okay being used for sex by some guy you barely even know?"
"No, not like that—"
"So then what? Because to me, it sounds like you're just a desperate slut."
You blinked. That word hit harder than you expected.
"Oh, I'm a slut?" Your voice was sharp now. "One body and I'm a slut, yet you dance around fucking anything with a pulse. You're disgusting... and easy."
"I'm disgusting and easy?" He snapped. "You let a senior fuckboy you don't even know take your virginity. It's actually sickening."
You stepped toward him, jaw clenched. "Would it have been sickening if it was you?"
Silence. His face froze, jaw locked as his eyes flickered, and he didn't say a word.
You let out a breath. "If you're so disgusted, then leave. First of all, it's none of your business who I sleep with— I don't stick my nose into yours. You've fucked girls I can't stand, and I never made it everyone's problem."
Your voice rose now. "You're my best friend— not my parent, not my boyfriend, and definitely not my mentor. So if you came here to judge me on every move I make, then you can go fuck yourself."
"Excuse me for being the only one that fucking cares about you."
You opened your mouth, but he was already tossing the takeout bag onto your bed with more force than necessary.
"Here." He muttered. "Since he couldn't even feed you."
Then he turned and the door slammed behind him.
The silence that followed felt like a vacuum, like the air had been sucked out of the room the moment the door slammed shut.
You stood there, unmoving, arms still crossed tightly around yourself. Your chest rose and fell a little too fast, like your body hadn't caught up to your brain yet.
"Desperate slut."
You could still hear it. Loud in the quiet and it hurt. God, it fucking hurt.
You sank down slowly to the edge of the bed, staring blankly at the takeout bag he'd thrown toward you. You let out a shaky breath and dropped your head into your hands.
He'd looked so angry, so betrayed, like you done something personally to him. But he wasn't your boyfriend, he never was, he never wanted to be.
So why did he get to act like this? Why did it feel like you were the one who done something wrong? You hadn't expected Haechan to stay. You hadn't expected Jaemin to explode and yet here you were, alone.
He was supposed to be your best friend.
But best friends didn't call you disgusting. Best friends didn't throw insults in your face and storm out. Best friends didn't look at you like you were less for doing something you had every right to do.
You didn't even realize you were crying until the tears hit your thighs. Silent, hot, and angry.
You swiped at them roughly, jaw tightening.
He didn't get to reduce you like that. He didn't get to decide what your choices meant, and he definitely didn't get to pretend like he was some kind of savior when all he'd ever done was hover just close enough to make you want more and then pull away every time you reached.
Some part of you still wanted him to come back. Still wanted him to knock again, to take it all back and say he was sorry.
But another part of you was done waiting on Jaemin to treat you like you mattered only when it was convenient for him. Because you didn't regret what happened.
Not the choice, not the experience, not even the consequences.
You only regretted giving someone like Jaemin the power to make you feel small.
──── in which your parents had always told you to stay away from boys like haechan. boys with cocky smirks, black eye liner, bruised knuckles, and a reputation that came with warning labels. you never had a reason to listen until you were assigned to tutor him after school. it should have been simple. help him pass, get it over with. but there’s something about him that drew you in, and you didn’t want to pull away.
✦ drama, fluff/angst, slow burn(ish). forbidden love? ; tags. goodgirl!reader x badboy!haechan, suggestive, your parents are literal jerks, swearing, mentions of fighting, kissing !!, protective!haechan, corruption? but not really, lmk if i missed any ! ;
𓂃 w.c [ 15.3k / 22.7k ]
!! not proofread !!
▸ j.note ; i hadn’t planned on making this fic so long but emo haechan does something to me i guess. also pls pls give feedback i want to improve my writings in the best way possible and i know my writing needs a lot of work, so constructive criticism is encouraged.
▸ this is part one of two and part two can be found here .ᐟ
your life had always been structured, predictable, mapped out like a perfectly folded brochure of all the things you were supposed to be. the good daughter. the responsible student. the girl who never gave anyone a reason to worry.
your parents raised you with expectations as solid as the fence that surrounded your house. good grades, early curfews, polite smiles at dinners. you were the kind of girl who double-checked her answers before turning in a test, who texted home before she was even late, who never spoke back even when she wanted to.
it wasn’t that you minded. not really.
your life was safe—comfortable.
weekends were spent with the same close friends, at the same coffee shop on the corner, drinking the same latte every time and reviewing notes for exams that were still weeks away. after school, you went straight home, sometimes stopping by the bookstore if you had extra time, flipping through pages of novels where the main characters lived lives far more reckless than your own.
and you liked it that way. you liked knowing where you belonged, knowing exactly what came next.
because trouble was for other people. rule-breakers, risk-takers. the kind of people who never thought twice about consequences. people who didn’t care.
the kind of people like him. lee donghyuck—or as he preferred to be called, haechan.
lee donghyuck had always been a name whispered in the hallways, wrapped in either amusement or warning. he was the boy who skipped class but somehow still seemed to do well, the boy who wore silver rings on his fingers, black eyeliner and bruises on his knuckles, the boy who flirted with everyone but never let anyone close.
he was reckless in a way that made people watch him like a fire they couldn’t look away from.
and you? you were the girl who had spent her whole life avoiding flames.
—
science had always been your best subject.
there was something reassuring about it—formulas that always worked, reactions that could be predicted, rules that never changed. if you followed the steps, you got the right answer. it was logical. reliable.
but not everyone saw it that way.
from the back of the classroom, haechan let out a quiet sigh, loud enough that a few students glanced his way. he was slouched over his desk, barely pretending to take notes, the end of his pen tapping lazily against his open textbook.
“can anyone explain why increasing the concentration of reactants speeds up a chemical reaction?” the teacher asked.
your hand went up without hesitation.
“because a higher concentration means more particles in the same space,” you answered. “so there’s a greater chance of collisions between them.”
“correct,” your teacher said, nodding approvingly.
from the corner of your eye, you caught movement. haechan had lifted his head just enough to glance in your direction, his gaze slow and assessing. when you turned to meet it, he didn’t look away, but just studied you, the corner of his lips twitching like he was in on some joke you weren’t part of.
your teacher moved on, scribbling equations across the board, but haechan didn’t so much as pretend to care. he stretched, tipping his chair back onto two legs, hands folded lazily over his stomach, like he was just waiting for the bell to save him from all of this.
you turned back toward the front, exhaling through your nose. it annoyed you, yet you didn’t know why.
it didn’t matter, it had nothing to do with you.
he didn’t matter.
or at least, that’s what you had always thought until today.
—
you were halfway through packing your books when you heard your name.
“could you stay back for a moment,” your teacher said, just as the last bell rang.
you paused, glancing up as students shuffled past your desk, their conversations blending into white noise. you couldn’t think of a single reason you’d need to stay—your grades were perfect, your assignments were always on time, and you definitely didn’t cause any trouble.
but then the teacher said another name.
“donghyuck, you too.” you heard him correct the teacher of his name under his breath.
your fingers curled around the thick textbook you were shoving in your bag.
he was slouched at his desk, twirling a silver ring around his finger, eyes half-lidded like he hadn’t gotten enough sleep. it took him a second to react, but when he did, it was with an exaggerated sigh, dragging himself upright like even this was too much effort.
the classroom emptied around you until it was just the three of you, the weight of the silence settling in as the teacher folded her arms over her desk.
“haechan,” she started, “you’re failing. if you don’t pass your next exam, you’re going to have to repeat this class. and you know what that means.”
he leaned back on the closest desk to the teacher’s, completely unfazed, crossing his arms. “that i get the pleasure of spending another semester with you?”
your teacher didn’t so much as blink. “it means you will not graduate with your class. you need this credit.”
that got a reaction. his arms uncrossed as haechan’s smirk slipped, just slightly.
“which is why,” she continued, turning to you, “you’re going to tutor him.”
your mouth parted slightly. “wait—”
“you’re the top of this class,” she cut in, before you could protest. “if anyone can help him pass, it’s you.”
you swallowed. the request made sense—on paper. but logic didn’t stop the heat of his gaze as it flickered toward you, as he finally seemed to take you in.
slowly, he let his eyes drag up and down, taking his time.
your unwrinkled clothes. your neatly done hair. the way you clutched your bag like it was a lifeline.
his lips curled at the edges, something amused, something almost lazy, and yet, you felt it. the weight of being looked at like that.
“seriously?” he drawled, tilting his head, eyes still on you. “her?”
your spine straightened. “what’s that supposed to mean?”
he smiled like he’d already won. “nothing, sweetheart.”
your teacher exhaled sharply, already tired of him. “this isn’t optional. you’ll meet and study together, and if i hear that you’ve skipped even once, i will not hesitate to let you keep your failing grade. understood?”
haechan sighed, tipping his head back like this was the greatest inconvenience of his life. then, with the ghost of a smirk still tugging at his lips, he muttered, “yeah, yeah. whatever you say.”
you could already tell. this was going to be impossible.
—
you walk out of the classroom first, stepping a little harder than intended. this wasn’t how you planned to spend your semester. tutoring some guy who didn’t even try, who slouched in his seat like he was too good for all of it, who looked at you like you were something to be amused by.
the hallway was mostly empty now, students already heading home or to their next activities. you were almost free, when a voice called out behind you.
“so, tutor, when do we start?”
you didn’t stop walking. “the library. after school tomorrow.”
haechan caught up easily, his pace unhurried, like this was all some joke to him. “ugh, the library?” he groaned. “how predictable.”
you glanced at him, unimpressed. “where else are we supposed to study? a convenience store?”
“actually, yeah.” he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, shooting you a smirk. “sounds more fun. we could get snacks. maybe a drink. aren’t tutors supposed to motivate their students?”
you exhaled sharply. he’s messing with you. you knew it, and yet, somehow, he still got under your skin.
“you don’t need motivation,” you said flatly. “you just need to study.”
“eh, debatable,” he mused. “i think what i need is a tutor who’s a little more flexible. less ‘strict teacher,’ more ‘cute classmate who wants to help me succeed.’”
you stopped walking.
haechan took a few more steps before realizing you weren’t next to him anymore. he turned, an eyebrow raised, just as you crossed your arms.
“okay, let’s get something straight,” you said, voice firm. “this isn’t a favor. i don’t want to tutor you, but i have to. and i don’t care if you think it’s boring or predictable, because it’s either this or you fail. so if you actually want my help, show up tomorrow. on time. otherwise, don’t waste my time.”
for a second, he just looked at you, head tilted like he was reevaluating something.
then, instead of answering, he let his gaze drag over you, slowly, like he was seeing you for the first time.
you stiffened under the weight of it, but refused to look away.
after a beat, he grinned.
“damn,” he murmured, almost to himself. “you’ve got a little fire under all that perfection, huh?”
you huffed, turning on your heel. “just be there.”
“yes, ma’am.”
you ignored him.
but as you walked away, you could still feel his smirk and stare burning into your back.
—
you barely stepped through the front door before your mom called out from the kitchen.
“you’re home later than usual.”
you set your bag down by the entryway, slipping off your shoes. “the teacher kept me after class.”
that was enough to get both of your parents’ attention. your dad looked up from where he sat on the couch, while your mom leaned against the counter, a slight crease forming between her brows.
“for what?” she asked, wiping her hands on a kitchen towel.
you exhaled, already bracing yourself. “she assigned me to tutor someone. he’s failing, and she thinks I can help him pass.”
your dad hummed approvingly. “well, that’s nice of you. who is it?”
you hesitated for half a second.
“haechan.”
the shift in the room was immediate. your mom stilled, and your dad turned completely this time, exchanging a glance with her before turning back to you.
“him?” your mom repeated, her voice careful.
“yes, him.” you folded your arms. “why does it sound like you already know who he is?”
your dad sighed, setting the paper aside. “people talk, sweetheart. he’s got a reputation.”
you rolled your eyes. “so what? he slacks off in class?”
your mom pursed her lips. “it’s more than that. skipping school, getting into trouble, hanging around the wrong crowds…” she trailed off, shaking her head. “just—be careful around him, honey.”
there it was. the warning.
and, of course, the assumption that you couldn’t think for yourself.
you sighed, rubbing your temple. “i’m not hanging out with him. i’m tutoring him. in the library. with textbooks.” you glanced between them. “pretty sure that’s not a crime.”
your mom didn’t look convinced, and your dad only leaned back in his seat, his expression unreadable.
“just don’t let him pull you into anything,” he said. “kids like that don’t change.”
you bit the inside of your cheek, a flicker of irritation curling in your chest.
they made it sound like you were helpless. like the second you spent time with him, you’d suddenly throw your whole life away. everything you’ve built for yourself.
you shook your head. “it’s not that serious.”
and before either of them could say anything else, you grabbed your bag and headed for your room, shutting the door with a little more force than necessary.
they were overreacting.
they didn’t know him.
and neither did you.
—
session one - monday february 23rd
the school day dragged.
it wasn’t any different from usual; classes, notes, the occasional group discussion, but today, there was a lingering awareness hanging over you. a ticking clock in the back of your mind, counting down to the inevitable.
you weren’t looking forward to tutoring haechan. but you had a job to do, and if he didn’t show, well… that was his problem, not yours.
by the time the final bell rang, you had already secured a table in the library, setting out your textbook, notebook, and a few highlighters. everything was neatly arranged. you had a plan, a structured breakdown of the material he needed to catch up on.
and yet, fifteen minutes passed.
then twenty.
you checked your phone, tapping your pen against your notes.
was he seriously going to ditch on the first day?
finally, you heard footsteps approaching, and then a familiar voice, drawling, “damn. you’re really taking this seriously, huh?”
you glanced up to see haechan standing there, hands in his pockets, looking completely unfazed. like he hadn’t just wasted almost half an hour of your time.
you exhaled sharply. “you’re late.”
“fashionably,” he corrected, dropping into the chair across from you.
you leveled him with a stare. “i don’t think that applies to studying.”
he shrugged. “guess we’ll find out.”
already, your patience was wearing thin. you pushed the textbook toward him, flipping to the section you had marked. “let’s start with reaction rates. you need to understand how—”
he wasn’t listening.
instead of looking at the notes, he was looking at you, head tilted slightly, a lazy smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“you always sit this straight?” he mused, tapping his pen against the table.
you blinked, looking up from the textbook. “what?”
“just saying. you’re sitting like you’re taking an exam or something.” he leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head. “relax. tutoring’s not life or death.”
you ignored the heat creeping up your neck and flipped open your notebook instead. “can we focus?”
he hummed, like he was considering it. then, before you could continue, he leaned forward slightly, eyeing your arrangement of highlighters and pens.
“bet you highlight in, like, five different colors.”
you clenched your jaw. four, actually, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of being right.
when you didn’t respond, he grinned, undeterred. “does tutoring me ruin your whole ‘perfect student’ reputation?”
you inhaled slowly, gripping your pen a little tighter. “only if you fail,” you said flatly.
he let out a soft laugh, finally glancing at the textbook. “alright, alright. hit me with the science.”
you exhaled, pushing past your irritation. this was going to be a long session.
but one way or another, you were getting through to him.
—
the next hour closed and you left the library still irritated—but more at yourself than him.
why had your heartbeat picked up when he had leaned in? why had his teasing stuck in your head longer than necessary?
get a grip.
the school hallways were mostly empty by now, just a few stragglers grabbing things from their lockers or heading to practice. you stopped by your own locker, swapping out your books for what you needed, then headed outside.
the late afternoon air was crisp, the sky shifting into a soft orange glow. you walked home, already thinking about how you’d explain the session to your parents.
(you wouldn’t. you’d just tell them it happened and leave it at that.)
continuing your walk, barely making it past the school you hear a voice from behind you.
“yo, tutor.”
your head snapped up.
haechan. again.
he was leaning against a lamppost a few feet away, hands shoved in his pockets, the same knowing smirk playing at his lips.
“we should celebrate.”
you frowned. “celebrate what?”
“me actually getting an answer right, obviously.” he straightened, stretching his arms behind his head. “c’mon, don’t be boring. you never just—i don’t know—do something on a whim?”
you had remembered the question he got right—which was simply the question you had answered yesterday in class. you narrowed your eyes. “if this is your way of trying to get out of studying next time—”
“relax.” he chuckled. “just messing with you. see you at our very serious study session next time, tutor.”
and with that, he strolled off like he hadn’t just left you standing there, your thoughts an even bigger mess than before.
—
session two - wednesday the 25th
you told yourself you wouldn’t get annoyed this time. you even mentally prepared for his usual antics before heading to the library.
it didn’t work.
haechan was late again. this time only by ten minutes, but still. he strolled in with an iced coffee in one hand, a lazy grin on his face like he hadn’t kept you waiting.
“you get extra credit for showing up on time, you know.”
“damn, should’ve known,” he drawled, sliding into the seat across from you. “maybe next time.”
you sighed, pushing the textbook toward him. “no distractions today.”
“that’s asking a lot.”
“it’s not.”
to your surprise, he actually made an effort. at least at first. he followed along as you explained reaction mechanisms, even nodded a few times like he understood. but the second things got even slightly complicated, he leaned back and groaned.
“why do i even need this? it’s not like i’m gonna be a scientist.”
“you need it to pass.”
“passing is overrated.”
“says the guy who’s literally failing.”
he just grinned, spinning his ring around his finger. “touché, sunshine.”
the nickname caught you off guard, making your stomach flip in a way that was foreign to you. whether he noticed your shift or not, he continued to use the name anytime he talked to you.
progress was slow, but you managed to get through two topics before he started messing around again, twirling his pen, asking dumb hypothetical questions that had nothing to do with chemistry.
“if i fail, do you fail too? since you’re my tutor?”
“no.”
“damn. no stakes for you then, huh?”
“just the overwhelming frustration of having to deal with you.”
“you wound me.” he clutched his chest dramatically, then smirked. “you sure you’re not starting to like our little sessions, though?”
you rolled your eyes. “go home, haechan.”
he laughed as he stood up, giving you a lazy salute before walking off.
session three - friday the 27th
miraculously, haechan was on time. but that didn’t mean he behaved.
“don’t look so shocked, tutor.” he plopped into his usual seat. “i can be responsible when i wanna be.”
“so, you just choose not to be?”
“exactly.”
today, he actually put in a little more effort, asking questions instead of just guessing his way through answers. you started to think, maybe this tutoring thing wouldn’t be a total waste of time.
and then, halfway through, he got bored.
“okay, pop quiz,” he said, snapping his book shut. “if you had to get a tattoo, what would it be?”
you blinked. “we are not doing this.”
“come on, humor me.”
“fine,” you muttered, flipping through your notes. “something small. simple. maybe a quote.”
“predictable,” he teased. “what if i said i’d get your name tattooed?”
you shot him a deadpan look. “then i’d question all of your life choices.”
he laughed, drumming his fingers against the table. “nah, i’d get something cool. a dragon or something. or maybe—” he wiggled his brows. “a chemical equation, just for you.”
“how generous.”
“i try.”
somehow, even with the distractions, he managed to retain at least some of what you covered. as you packed up, he tapped his pen against the table.
“hey, sunshine.”
you glanced up, not missing his smirk at your responding to the name.
“don’t miss me too much over the weekend.”
“leave.”
he laughed all the way out the door.
session four - monday march 2nd
you were already exhausted from the start of the new week, and haechan wasn’t helping.
“mondays shouldn’t exist,” he grumbled, dropping into his chair.
while you agreed, you had to keep him focused. “you still have to study.”
“brutal.”
you launched straight into the material, ignoring his dramatic sighs and complaints about how unfair school was. surprisingly, he focused for a solid thirty minutes—until he caught you tapping your foot.
“you’re impatient today,” he observed, tilting his head.
“or maybe i just want you to actually learn something.”
“i am learning. look,” he pointed at an equation. “i even remember this one.”
you checked. he was right.
“wow,” you deadpanned. “you have a functioning brain after all.”
“careful, that almost sounded like a compliment.”
despite yourself, you bit back a smile.
the session ended with him actually completing the assigned questions, granted, after a lot of coaxing. as you packed up, he tapped the table again, just like last time.
“see you wednesday, sunshine.”
this time, you didn’t tell him to leave.
you did however, roll your eyes as he walked away, still grinning.
—
session five – wednesday the 4th
it was one of those days.
haechan was late—again. not by much, but enough to make you grit your teeth when he finally strolled in, a bag of chips in one hand, looking like he had nowhere better to be.
“don’t look at me like that, sunshine.” he smirked as he slid into his seat. “traffic was brutal.”
“you walk here.”
“damn. caught me.”
you inhaled sharply through your nose, pushing the worksheet toward him. “just start.”
he did. kind of.
five minutes in, he was tapping his pen against the table. ten minutes in, he was spinning his rings. fifteen minutes in, he was leaning back in his chair with a yawn.
“haechan,” you warned.
“hmm?”
“can you at least pretend to care?”
he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “depends. does it bother you?”
you shook your head. “whatever.”
“relax, sunshine.” he tilted his head. “you’re cute when you’re annoyed.”
you ignored the way heat crept up your neck. “just answer the question.”
he glanced at it. “mm… ‘catalyst slows down a reaction.’”
you shut your eyes, inhaling deeply. “no. it speeds up a reaction—”
“eh, close enough.”
“no, it’s not—” you cut yourself off, exhaling sharply. “are you even trying?”
“nah.”
that was it.
“then why the hell are we even doing this?”
he blinked at you, momentarily caught off guard. but you were already pushing back your chair, stuffing your notes into your bag with sharp, deliberate movements.
“if you fail, that’s your problem. not mine.”
you didn’t wait for a response. just walked out, leaving him sitting there—still smirking, but something in his expression had shifted.
session seven – monday the 9th
the session was supposed to be like any other. you’d prepared the material, you had everything set up, and you were expecting the usual. you didn’t expect haechan to show up on time—or at least not to show up with an actual sense of purpose.
he slung his bag over the chair and slumped down. his usual cocky grin wasn’t there.
“what’s wrong with you?” you asked, surprised at how… serious he seemed.
he didn’t answer right away, instead just staring at the notes in front of him with furrowed brows.
“this is dumb,” he muttered under his breath.
you raised an eyebrow. “what’s dumb? the concept? the subject? or… you?”
he flicked his eyes to you, but there was no usual smirk, just irritation. “all of it.”
you frowned. “this isn’t the usual ‘i don’t care’ routine. what’s going on?”
he didn’t meet your eyes, instead flicking through the textbook like he was hoping to find a way out of this.
“i just don’t get it,” he said, voice tight.
you sat back, eyeing him carefully. you were so used to him breezing through everything, acting like he didn’t care, so this sudden frustration was… different. it threw you off.
“you’ve got this. we’ve gone over it before.”
“yeah, well, it’s not clicking today,” he shot back, rubbing his temples like he was battling a headache.
you leaned forward, speaking more gently than usual. “haechan, this stuff isn’t hard. you just have to stop shutting down every time it gets tough.”
he looked at you for a long moment, eyes soft but frustrated. he clearly didn’t want to admit that maybe, just maybe, you were right.
“i don’t shut down,” he muttered. “it’s just… everything else is easier. this? it feels like i’m failing at something i can’t even explain.”
you blinked, taken aback. haechan never let anything get to him, at least not this much.
“okay,” you said, shifting your tone to something a little more reassuring. “we can take it slow. i’ll help you through it.”
but even as you said it, you knew it wasn’t just about the chemistry. there was something deeper in his frustration—something he wasn’t saying.
he sat back in his chair, massaging his temples. “maybe i just don’t get it because i’m not supposed to. i’m not like you, sunshine.”
“no, you’re not,” you said softly. “but i know you can get it. you have to try.”
there was a long silence between you, and for the first time in a while, you realized that your usual teasing, quick comebacks wouldn’t fix this.
haechan’s eyes met yours for a fleeting second, something raw in them. then, he sighed.
“this is stupid,” he muttered, but there was a softness to his voice. “i’ll try.”
and for once, you believed him.
—
days later, sunday dinner was quiet, just the soft clinking of utensils against plates and the low hum of the tv in the background. your parents had been giving you a look all evening. the kind that meant they had something to say but were waiting for the right moment.
you didn’t have to wait long.
“so,” your mom started, too casually. “how’s tutoring going?”
you didn’t even glance up from your plate. “fine.”
“fine?” your dad echoed. “that’s it?”
you shrugged, poking at your food. “what else is there to say?”
your mom set down her fork. “is he at least putting in effort?”
you huffed. “define effort.”
they exchanged a glance, the kind that made you feel like a kid again, like they already knew exactly what was going on.
“we just want to make sure he’s not wasting your time,” your dad said. “if he’s not serious about learning, you don’t have to keep doing this.”
“he’s… getting better,” you admitted, though you weren’t sure if it was entirely true. he was trying, in his own way, but it was a slow process.
your mom still looked unconvinced. “just be careful, sweetheart.”
you frowned. “careful?”
“boys like him…” she hesitated, choosing her words. “they can be a distraction.”
“he’s not a distraction,” you said immediately, but the way she raised an eyebrow made your stomach twist.
and then— “you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”
you nearly choked. “what? no. why would you even—?”
“because it happens,” your dad cut in, giving you a pointed look. “you spend enough time with someone, and next thing you know, you start making excuses for them.”
“i’m not making excuses.” you leaned back in your chair, suddenly desperate to get out of this conversation. “and i definitely don’t have a crush on him. it’s just tutoring. that’s it.”
they didn’t argue, but the look in their eyes said enough.
—
session ten – monday the 16th
you weren’t sure why your parents’ question was still echoing in your head. it was ridiculous, really. you didn’t have a crush on him. just because he was annoying, and cocky, and had that stupid smirk that made your stomach flip sometimes—no. not sometimes. never. it didn’t matter.
but still, as you walked into the library, setting your bag down at the usual table, you felt weirdly… off. distracted.
you pulled out your notes, trying to shake the thought, but haechan just had to say something.
“damn, sunshine. you look tense. bad day?”
you jumped slightly at his voice. he was standing next to you now, one hand gripping the chair as he spun it lazily before sitting down. he was late, as usual, but this time you hadn’t even noticed.
“fine,” you said quickly, focusing on your notes.
“you sure?” he tilted his head, leaning forward on the table. “you look like you’ve got something on your mind.”
you did. but there was no way in hell you were going to tell him what.
“it’s nothing,” you said, too quickly. “let’s just get started.”
but as the session went on, you found yourself more distracted than usual. every time he leaned in, every time he ran a hand through his hair, every time he smirked at something that wasn’t even funny, you thought of your parents’ voices in your head.
“you’re not getting a crush on him, are you?”
no. you weren’t. you refused to.
but then he tapped his pen against the table, glancing at you through his lashes. “you’re really off today, sunshine. what’s up?”
and maybe it was the way he said it, or maybe it was the fact that you hated how observant he could be, but you snapped.
“you. you’re up. why do you talk so much?”
he blinked, clearly not expecting that. then, he grinned. “because you like it.”
“i don’t.”
“liar.”
you groaned, running a hand down your face. this session was going to be impossible.
—
session twelve - friday the 20th
you had a feeling he wasn’t going to show up.
maybe it was the fact that he hadn’t texted all day—not that he ever really did, but usually, there was something. some offhand comment about how he was so tired or how he was mentally preparing for another “brutal” study session. but today? nothing.
still, you sat at the usual table, notes spread out, waiting.
and waiting.
and waiting.
until finally, you checked the time and realized it had been forty-five minutes.
you scoffed, shoving your notes back into your bag with more force than necessary. of course he wouldn’t show up. of course, he’d waste your time like this.
this was exactly why you didn’t like him.
not that you had to remind yourself. but things like this. his impulsiveness, his lack of reliability, the way he did whatever he wanted without considering anyone else, made it so much easier to not like him.
except, if that were really true, you wouldn’t be this pissed off.
you stormed out of the library, typing out a single text before shoving your phone deep into your pocket.
“seriously?”
no greeting. no unnecessary words. just that.
and when he didn’t respond, you told yourself you didn’t care.
even though, somehow, he was all you could think about for the rest of the night.
—
the weekend was quite eventful.
saturday -
you weren’t mad.
at least, that’s what you told yourself as you pulled out your laptop that morning, trying to focus on the essay you’d been putting off. it had nothing to do with him. nothing to do with the fact that he’d completely wasted your time yesterday. it wasn’t like you cared.
but when your phone lit up beside you, your heart jumped a little too fast. you grabbed it instinctively. only to see a notification from your bank about your spending this month.
you exhaled sharply, tossing your phone aside. see? you weren’t waiting for a text. because you weren’t expecting one. because you didn’t care.
still, you had to physically stop yourself from checking your messages every hour, and by the time the afternoon rolled around, you were in a terrible mood.
saturday night -
“so let me get this straight,” your friend, karina said, stirring her drink lazily. “he didn’t show up. didn’t text. and…now you’re mad about it.”
you scowled, leaning back in your chair. “i’m not mad.”
she raised an eyebrow. “you sure? cause you seem pretty mad.”
you crossed your arms. “i just don’t like when people waste my time. it’s inconsiderate.”
“right.” karina smirked, tilting her head. “but it’s weird, isn’t it? because you weren’t even this mad when you thought he wasn’t taking tutoring seriously. but now? now he misses one session, and suddenly, it’s a big deal?”
you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “that’s not the point.”
“mhm.” she sipped her drink, clearly unconvinced.
you refused to give her the satisfaction of a reaction, but as you stared down at your untouched food, a thought crept into your mind.
was she right?
sunday afternoon -
you spotted him before he saw you.
standing by the counter at the campus café, looking as unbothered as ever. hoodie slightly loose around his shoulders, rings glinting under the dim lighting as he scrolled through his phone.
he wasn’t avoiding you, then. because avoiding would at least mean he knew he did something wrong.
the irritation that had been simmering all weekend bubbled over. before you could think twice, you were already walking toward him.
“oh, hey, sunshine.” he glanced up as you stopped beside him, smiling like nothing had happened. “you look cute when you’re brooding.”
you didn’t waste time. “you didn’t show up.”
he shrugged, slipping his phone into his pocket. “yeah. something came up.”
“something came up?” your voice was sharper than intended, but you didn’t care. “you could’ve at least said something.”
he leaned against the counter, studying you with an amused tilt of his head. “why? you miss me?”
your fingers curled into fists at your sides. because he was doing this on purpose. pushing, testing, waiting to see how much you’d react. and you hated that it was working.
“you’re unbelievable.” the words came out in a breath, laced with frustration.
and then you turned on your heel and walked away before you could say anything else you’d regret.
but the worst part? the absolute worst part?
he was still in your head, and you didn’t know how to make it stop.
—
session thirteen - monday the 23rd
for the next two weeks, you and haechan had to change locations as club was having their meetings in the library. you moved to a classroom near the library.
monday’s session wasn’t a disaster. in fact, it was almost… normal.
he showed up—five minutes late, but that was practically on time for him. he didn’t ignore the notes you laid out, didn’t spend the whole time spinning his rings or making dumb comments. he even answered a few questions correctly, which honestly shocked you.
“so you do pay attention sometimes,” you muttered when he got one right.
“wow, sunshine.” he grinned, resting his chin on his hand. “say that again. maybe i’ll start believing you actually like having me around.”
you scoffed, underlining something in your notebook just to avoid looking at him. “don’t push it.”
he chuckled but didn’t push. and for the first time since this whole tutoring arrangement started, things actually felt… okay. he was still distracting, still teasing you every chance he got, still doing that infuriating thing where he leaned back in his chair like he had all the time in the world. but at least he was trying.
and that was enough.
for now.
later that week, things changed.
session fifteen- friday the 25th
you were still in one of the school’s empty classrooms, finishing up some notes for yourself. it was already late when you heard the classroom door creak open.
too late for a tutoring session. too late for him to be here at all.
you looked up, expecting a janitor, maybe a teacher. instead, you saw him.
“oh my god.” your breath caught when you finally glanced up. “what happened to you?”
he looked…rough. a split lip, a bruise already blooming on his cheekbone, dried blood crusted near his eyebrow. his knuckles were bruising and stained with a little blood, like he’d been swinging at something—or someone.
“nothin’.” his voice was quieter than usual, the usual cockiness dulled by exhaustion. “just a bad night.”
“bad night? you look like you got your ass kicked.” you frowned, already standing. “who—why—”
“doesn’t matter.” he waved a hand, like he wanted to brush it off, but even that small movement made him wince.
you sighed, shaking your head as you grabbed your bag. “stay here.”
he didn’t argue as you left, and when you came back a few minutes later, first aid kit in hand, he still hadn’t moved. just sat there, fingers tapping restlessly against his thigh, like he was waiting for the fight to start back up again.
but when you stood in front of him, tilting his face up slightly so you could dab at the cut on his lip, he stilled.
“you don’t have to do this,” he murmured.
“you don’t have to get into fights.”
he huffed a quiet laugh, but there was no humor in it.
when you knelt beside him and took his hand in yours, he barely reacted, letting you clean the dried blood from his knuckles. his skin was warm under your touch, but you ignored that. just like you ignored the way his eyes were fixed on you, dark and unreadable.
for a while, there was only silence. the soft press of gauze against his skin, the quiet scrape of your nails as you brushed away the dried blood. and through it all, he just watched you.
like he didn’t understand why you cared.
“you’re not supposed to fix me, sunshine,” he said eventually, voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “just tutor me.”
you didn’t look at his eyes. “maybe i just don’t want to watch you fall apart.”
his breath hitched slightly. and maybe you imagined it, but for the first time, the fight in his eyes flickered. just for a second.
he didn’t say anything else. but something shifted in that moment.
because later, when he went home, he touched the bandage you had carefully pressed onto his skin, fingers lingering there longer than necessary.
and even though he would never admit it. maybe not even to himself, that was the moment he started falling for you.
—
after that night, things feel different. you tell yourself they’re not, that nothing’s changed, that you’re just imagining the way your chest tightens when you catch him looking at you in the middle of a study session. but it’s there, lingering in the spaces between words, in the silence that lasts too long, in the way his teasing remarks don’t land the same way anymore.
the next session, he actually tries.
not in an obvious way—he’s still late, still sighs dramatically when you hand him a practice problem, still taps his pen against the table like he’s counting down the minutes until he can leave. but when you ask him a question, he answers. when he gets something wrong, he listens when you explain instead of brushing it off.
session sixteen - monday the 28th
“so, what, you’re suddenly serious about passing?” you ask, watching as he leans forward, elbows braced against the table.
he tilts his head, a smirk tugging at his lips. “maybe i just like seeing you all impressed when i get something right.”
you roll your eyes. “trust me, you’d have to try way harder for that to happen.”
but you don’t mean it. because when he mutters the right answer under his breath, brow furrowed like he’s actually thinking, something twists in your stomach. you shove the feeling down before it can take root.
—
then, he starts showing up.
not just to your tutoring sessions—those are still scheduled, still predictable, still something you can control—but to other places. places he shouldn’t be.
like when you’re sitting outside between classes, notebook open in your lap, the afternoon sun casting long shadows over the pavement.
“wow,” his voice cuts through the quiet, lazy and amused. “you really do study all the time, huh?”
you glance up, frowning as he drops into the seat across from you. “what are you doing here?”
he shrugs, peeling the label off his drink. “nowhere else to be.”
he stays. doesn’t do much—just picks at his rings, tosses casual comments your way, complains about the weather. at first, it’s just once. then it happens again. and again.
“you know you don’t have to sit here, right?” you say one day, not looking up from your laptop.
“i know.”
he doesn’t leave. and you don’t tell him to. maybe that’s your first mistake.
—
the evening air is crisp, biting at your skin as you step out of the library. you tug your jacket tighter around yourself, putting your earbuds in as you start down the quiet path leading off campus. most of the streetlights flicker on as it got darker.
you don’t hear him at first.
not until he falls into step beside you, hands stuffed into his pockets, shoulders slightly hunched.
“hey, sunshine.”
you nearly trip, ripping an earbud out as you whip your head to the side. “what the—why are you here?”
he doesn’t look at you, just keeps walking like this is the most natural thing in the world. “walking.” he motions in front of him.
“walking where?” you press, your suspicion growing.
he exhales, tilting his head toward the sky as if debating whether to answer. finally, he shrugs. “just making sure you get home okay.”
you slow your steps. something about the way he says it, like it’s just a fact, like it’s obvious, throws you off balance.
“i don’t need a bodyguard,” you mutter.
“yeah, i know.”
“so why—”
“just shut up and keep walking.”
the words should annoy you. they do annoy you. but something in his casual but firm tone, like he’s already decided he’s doing this whether you like it or not, leaves no room for argument. so you walk, stealing glances at him every so often, watching the way he shifts his weight, the way his fingers flex like he’s holding back something he’ll never say out loud.
“this isn’t a habit now, is it?” you ask after a few minutes.
“depends.”
“on what?”
“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”
you roll your eyes but don’t push.
when you finally reach your place, you stop at the fence, hesitating. you should say goodnight. you should say thanks, maybe. but before you can decide, he’s already a few steps away, hands still buried in his pockets, gaze fixed ahead.
“see you later, sunshine.”
he doesn’t look back. doesn’t wait for a response.
but for some reason, you watch him walk away anyway.
—
you should be asleep.
but you’re not.
instead, you’re lying on your bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying the walk home in your head like a movie you can’t turn off. like the flickering streetlights, the cold air, the steady sound of footsteps beside you—his footsteps—are all burned into your mind.
you shift onto your side, pulling your blanket up to your chin. it’s stupid. he didn’t do anything, didn’t say anything that should be lingering like this. all he did was show up. all he did was walk.
but still.
“just making sure you get home okay.”
he’d said it like it was nothing. like it wasn’t a thing.
but it was. wasn’t it?
you sigh, rolling onto your back again. your phone sits on your nightstand, screen dark, no notifications. not that you expected any. he’s not the kind of guy to text. but still, some stupid part of you wonders if he’s thinking about it, too.
not about you. just—about anything.
maybe he’s already asleep, completely unbothered, already moved on. maybe it meant nothing to him.
but then again—
“depends.”
“on what?”
“on whether or not i feel like doing it again.”
you close your eyes, exhaling slowly.
you don’t know what’s worse. the fact that he might actually do it again.
or the fact that you kind of want him to.
—
session nineteen - monday april 4th
you check the time again.
ten minutes late.
with an annoyed sigh, you tap your pen against the open notebook in front of you, debating whether to give up and leave. it’s not like he hasn’t done this before. showing up whenever he feels like it, acting like he’s doing you a favor by even bothering. but this time, it’s grating more than usual. maybe because things have been different lately—less antagonistic, more… whatever this weird tension is that neither of you have acknowledged.
and then, just as you’re about to slap your notebook shut, a chair scrapes against the floor.
“took you long enough,” you mutter without looking up.
“miss me?”
the smirk is there—you can hear it in his voice even before you meet his gaze. he leans back in his chair, stretching out like he has all the time in the world. no apology, no excuse. just him, always testing your patience.
you roll your eyes and push his notebook toward him. “just open your book.”
the session starts off okay, at first. he’s actually trying—not a lot, but enough. he answers a few questions, gets some right, listens when you explain the ones he gets wrong. but there’s something off about him today.
he’s restless. more than usual.
his fingers tap against the table, his rings clicking against each other in a way that makes your nerves buzz. he sighs every time you correct him, leans back so far in his chair that you’re convinced he’s seconds away from tipping over. but most of all, he’s not looking at you.
not in the usual way, at least. he usually stares—lazy, smug, like he’s waiting for you to snap. but today, it’s like he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. like he’s somewhere else.
“what is wrong with you today?” the words slip out before you can stop them.
haechan raises an eyebrow, finally meeting your eyes. “me? nothing. maybe you’re just extra grumpy today.”
you glare. “maybe i wouldn’t be if you were actually focused.”
he clicks his tongue, shutting his notebook with a dull thud. “yeah? and what if i don’t feel like it?”
your patience snaps. “then why are you even here, haechan?”
silence.
his expression shifts—just barely, but enough for you to see it. the way his jaw tightens, the flicker of something unreadable in his eyes before he looks away.
and then he speaks so quiet, almost to himself.
“good question.”
your breath catches. because suddenly, it doesn’t feel like you’re talking about tutoring anymore.
neither of you speak after that.
the rest of the session is stiff, words clipped and movements sharp. when it ends, he doesn’t throw a smug remark over his shoulder, doesn’t tease you like he usually does. he just stands, slings his bag over his shoulder, and walks out without looking back.
you stay sitting there long after he’s gone, staring at the empty chair next to you.
heart pounding for reasons you don’t want to think about.
—
session twenty - wednesday the 6th
wednesday’s session is quieter than usual. it’s like there’s a wall between the two of you—still the same awkwardness, but with more… space.
haechan is more focused than before, but there’s a distance in the way he engages with the material. no smart comments, no teasing, just a steady silence as he works through the problems. every time your fingers brush over his paper to point out a mistake, there’s a brief, electric pause. neither of you comment on it, but it lingers, like a promise neither of you are ready to make.
but by the end of it, he’s gone without a word. not a smile, not a look. just the door shutting quietly behind him.
—
session twenty one - friday the 8th
friday’s session is different.
when he walks in, there’s a heaviness about him, something off—his face is bruised again, his lip split like last time, hair slightly tousled, and there’s a subtle tremble in his step like he’s not sure whether to be here or not. his eyes avoid yours as he slides into the chair across from yours, too close to be casual but too distant to be comfortable.
the silence between you is charged from the start, but it’s not the playful tension you’re used to. it’s thick, raw, almost uncomfortable.
you can’t help but stare at the bruise blooming across his jaw, the scrape on his chin, and the other cuts scattered across his arms. the anger and adrenaline radiate off him in waves, but there’s something deeper underneath all of it—a tiredness.
you try not to let your voice crack, but the concern breaks through anyway. “what happened?”
haechan doesn’t meet your gaze. his eyes are dark, like he’s trying to bury something under all that nonchalance. “it’s nothing.”
you don’t believe him. obviously. not looking like that. “haechan, don’t lie.”
finally, he looks at you, and there’s something in his expression that makes you freeze—raw vulnerability laced with a bitterness you can’t quite place. “someone said something about you,” he says quietly. “something i didn’t like.”
you feel the weight of his words like a punch to the gut. “what do you mean?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper, but there’s no hiding the unease creeping into your tone.
he’s quiet for a long moment, his fingers tapping restlessly against the table as he thinks about how to phrase it. then, he just blurts it out: “i fought over you.”
it takes you a second to process. “what?”
he looks at you, this time, eyes searching yours like he’s looking for something. “they were talking about you. bad stuff. i couldn’t just sit there. i—” his words falter, like he’s not sure why he’s even explaining this to you.
you don’t know what to say. your heart beats harder, faster. “so you just…?”
“i lost it.” he’s not ashamed, not exactly, but there’s something about the way he says it that makes you feel like he’s letting go of more than just the fight. “i couldn’t stand it. i had to do something.”
and that’s when it hits you—the depth of everything he’s been hiding behind those sharp smirks and sarcastic comments.
without thinking, your fingers move—just a soft brush against his darkening knuckles, like it’s the only thing you can do to make sense of all this. you feel the heat of his skin underneath your fingertips, and the contact burns, even though it’s so small.
haechan’s breath catches. there’s a moment of complete silence, and then he slowly, so slowly, moves his fingers that were under yours.
you hold your breath, fingers trembling just a little. and then, as if testing the waters, he slides his fingers up to rest his hand against yours. you found your hand opening up, as your palms touched slightly. his finger tips grazing your with a ghost-like touch. for a second, neither of you moves. there’s a fragile, delicate tension that seems to freeze the room in place.
and then, without saying a word, he lets his fingers gently curl around yours.
it’s slow, tentative, like he’s afraid you’ll pull away. but when you don’t, when you let him, he doesn’t hesitate. his grip tightens just enough, not too much—just enough to say this matters.
your heart races, and your breath hitches, but you don’t pull away. you don’t want to.
you let your fingers slip into the spaces between his, moving carefully, slowly.
there’s no hurry. just the quiet sound of your breaths mingling with the subtle click of his rings as his fingers settle between yours.
his eyes drop to your hands, studying the way you fit together, the way your fingers slide against his, perfectly and effortlessly. it’s intimate in a way that makes everything around you disappear. there’s only the soft warmth of his hand in yours, the quiet thrum of something unspoken growing louder between you.
he leans forward slightly, his voice quiet, almost like a confession. “i fought because of you,” he says, the weight of his words settling between you two like a secret you didn’t expect.
you want to say something, want to ask why, but the words don’t come. your chest feels tight. why would he do that for you?
his thumb strokes the back of your hand, the motion slow and careful, and you feel the heat of his touch seep through you. “i couldn’t just let them say shit about you,” he murmurs, his voice raw. “no one talks about you like that and gets away with it.”
you finally meet his gaze, your chest tight with something you can’t name. he holds your hand gently, but there’s a possessiveness in his touch, something protective that you can’t quite ignore.
the air between you is thick, filled with the weight of everything unsaid. he doesn’t let go of your hand, doesn’t move away, and neither do you.
you’re not sure how long you sit there, fingers entwined, the world outside of this moment fading away. but somehow, it feels like everything has changed between you two in that quiet, intimate touch. Something that didn’t need to be spoken but felt.
neither of you moves, not yet. not until it’s time.
—
saturday -
saturday morning arrives with the lingering weight of haechan’s words from the previous session. “maybe we could grab a coffee or something. no tutoring… just…”
his voice still echoes in your mind as you get ready. you don’t know why it’s making you nervous. you’ve spent hours with him tutoring, in tight spaces, talking about everything under the sun, but this feels different. it’s not about grades or chemistry anymore. it’s about you and him—just two people.
when your parents asked where you were off to, you brushed them off with a simple. “studying at the café,”.
at 2 p.m., you arrive at the cafe a little early. your heart beats louder in your chest as you stand outside, looking at the door, unsure whether you should go in first or wait. but before you can make up your mind, haechan appears. he’s wearing a hoodie and jeans. his messy hair adds to the vibe—relaxed, but there’s an intensity in the way he walks towards you.
“hey,” he greets with that familiar teasing smile, but it’s less playful today, more reserved. he watches you for a beat, like he’s trying to gauge how you’re feeling.
“hey,” you respond, your voice steady but your insides twist with something unfamiliar.
the conversation starts easy, like a continuation of your tutoring sessions, but it quickly morphs into something more personal. you laugh at his jokes, and he cracks a few of his usual sarcastic comments. but this time, they don’t feel so cutting—they feel like an invitation, an effort to connect.
you tell him about your favorite subjects, and he talks about his struggle with science (which he completely tries to play off like he doesn’t care about). somehow, you both end up talking about your childhoods, your families, and some awkward high school moments. the more you talk, the more the layers fall away, and you realize this is more real than you expected. he really wasn’t some monster that everyone seemed to paint him as.
as you finish your drinks, there’s an uneasy silence between you two. haechan runs a hand through his hair, and you shift in your seat, unsure of what to do next. the energy between you both is charged now—unspoken words hang thick in the air, and it’s almost unbearable.
“well, sunshine,” he says, his voice softer than usual, “i guess I’ll see you on monday?”
you nod, too quickly, almost relieved to escape the pressure of the moment. “yeah, monday.”
you both stand, and as you turn to walk away, you feel his eyes on you. you can’t tell if it’s admiration or something else, but the way he watches you feels different now.
sunday -
sunday passes quietly, but the space between you and haechan feels wider, even though you just saw him the day before. you try not to think about the little moments—the way he looked at you, how close you both were, how much you wanted him to say more. but that’s the problem, isn’t it? you both left so much unsaid, and you can’t help but wonder what’s going through his mind.
he doesn’t text you at all. the silence is deafening. you tell yourself it’s probably a good thing; after all, you don’t need to overanalyze everything, right? but then again, why does it feel so heavy?
you end up spending the day at home, alone with your thoughts. the weekend was supposed to be simple, a break from the usual, but now you can’t shake the feeling that it’s more complicated than that. haechan has always been complicated, but now you feel like you’re standing on the edge of something, not sure whether to jump or step back.
session twenty two - monday the 11th
by the time monday rolls around, you’re feeling restless. there’s a shift in your mood. a nervous energy that you can’t shake off, and when you step into school, it feels like you’re waiting for something to happen. you can’t decide if it’s anticipation or dread, but either way, you’re drawn back to the tutoring session.
when haechan finally walks into the classroom, you can’t tell if he’s acting like everything is normal or if he’s pretending. he gives you a short wave, but it’s not his usual playful smile. it’s different now. there’s something more cautious in his movements.
you both settle into your usual rhythm—he’s late, of course, but he’s quieter today. you’re not sure if that’s because of the weekend or if it’s something else entirely.
the session goes well, mostly. it’s like before, in the sense that you both get through the work, but there’s an added tension. he looks at you a little longer than he usually does, his eyes scanning your face as if he’s trying to understand something. the usual teasing is absent today, replaced by a different energy—more subtle, more cautious.
by the end of the session, you can’t help but feel like you’re caught in this strange, unspoken limbo between what you both were and what you might be. you still don’t know where it’s going, but you’re both standing at the edge, unsure whether to jump or wait to see what the next step will be.
—
session twenty three - wednesday the 13th
it’s the final session before the break, and everything feels different. the air feels thicker, charged with something neither of you are saying but both know is there. you both sit at the desk, the tension palpable, but neither of you are focused on the notes in front of you. it’s like the classroom walls are closing in, and neither of you can breathe easily.
you keep glancing over at him, trying to stick to the lesson, but he’s just… there, too close, too present. the words he’s saying are just noise in the background as his eyes flicker over you every time you speak, his gaze heavy, simmering. you know it’s not just the subject anymore. something has shifted.
“you’re not listening,” you say, your voice sharper than you intend.
he looks at you, not surprised, but not unaffected either. “neither are you,” he replies, and there’s something in his voice that’s too calm. too knowing.
you press your lips together, trying to keep your composure. “well, you’re not even trying.”
he smirks, leaning back in his chair slightly. “again, neither are you.”
there’s a challenge in his voice, and it sets something off inside you. something snaps. you stand up more abrupt than you anticipate, trying to collect your thoughts but only feeling more overwhelmed by the space between you two. you feel like you’re suffocating under the weight of the tension, like there’s something about to break, and you don’t know if you want to stop it or let it happen.
you cross your arms, pacing around the small desk, trying to cool the heat you feel flooding your chest.
“why are you so difficult?” you murmur, more to yourself than him.
“because you make it easy,” he says, voice low, leaning forward, his eyes locked on you in a way that makes your knees weak.
he stands up slowly, the movement purposeful, and your heart skips a beat. the space between you is closing, and before you can make sense of what’s happening, he’s there, standing right in front of you.
his hand brushes against yours, and you feel it like a spark, his fingers just grazing yours before he holds your wrist lightly, tugging you closer to him. you can’t move, rooted in place by something deeper than just attraction.
and then he kisses you.
it’s a kiss that’s full of everything you’ve been holding back. the anger, the frustration, the need for something more that you don’t know how to name. it’s messy, urgent, like both of you are desperate to see how far you can go without letting go. your hands find their way to his chest, pushing against him as you kiss him back, just as hungry, just as eager.
you feel his grip on your wrist tighten, pulling you closer as his other hand slides to your waist. the kiss deepens, and the world around you disappears. it’s just you and him, the heat of his lips against yours, the press of his body against yours.
you can’t help but give in, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, your breath coming faster as the intensity builds.
and then, just as suddenly, it breaks.
you pull back, hands trembling, and you stare at him, your heart pounding against your ribs.
you feel guilty.
you glance away, trying to catch your breath, but all you can hear are the voices from the past—the warnings your parents gave you, the things they said about boys like him.
“boys like him are trouble.”
the words echo in your mind like a warning. trouble.
you can’t ignore it. your heart sinks, and a cold wave of uncertainty washes over you. this is trouble.
you step back, trying to create some distance, trying to make sense of it all. “this isn’t… supposed to happen.”
he stays silent for a beat, his expression unreadable. then, quietly, he says, “i don’t want to stop.”
you shake your head, backing away, but you can’t seem to find the words. everything’s spinning in your head. he’s trouble, but you want him.
“haechan,” you whisper, feeling a rush of heat rise to your cheeks, “i—this was a mistake.”
he doesn’t say anything, just watches you as you grab your things, your heart heavy in your chest.
you don’t know how to fix this, don’t know how to untangle the mess you’ve just made of your feelings. you only know that walking away is the only thing you can do right now, even if every step you take feels like it’s pulling you away from him and yet dragging you closer at the same time.
you leave without another word, but as you walk down the hall, your mind is still stuck on him.
this isn’t what i signed up for… but then again, maybe it was.
—
the following night is unusually still, and you lie awake, mind tangled in the events of the past week. your thoughts keep drifting back to him—the kiss, the way he pulled away, and the uncertainty that followed. you toss and turn, trying to shake off the feeling, but it’s like something’s pulling you in. just as you start to think you’re finally starting to calm down, a soft knock at your window breaks through the silence.
your heart jumps in your chest, and for a second, you freeze. there’s no mistaking who it is. haechan.
you rush to the window, heart racing, but you pause for a brief moment to glance at your door—your parents are just down the hall. still, curiosity outweighs caution, and you push the blinds up quietly, barely believing your eyes.
there he is, his silhouette framed against the dim streetlights outside, standing on the roof near your window with that familiar, confident smirk that sends a strange rush through you.
“how’d you get up here?” you whisper after opening the window, your voice shaky, heart still pounding in your ears.
he shrugs as though it’s the most normal thing in the world, but you can’t ignore the way his arm strains as he grips the window sill, his veins flexing beneath the fabric of his shirt. your eyes flicker down to his arms, and for a moment, you forget to breathe, your gaze catching on the way the muscles ripple as he pulls himself up with a small thud.
you wince, then immediately shush him, raising a finger to your lips in an exaggerated, playful gesture. “my parents are gonna hear you!”
he flashes that trademark grin, but it’s softer this time—almost sheepish, like he wasn’t expecting this much resistance. “sorry,” he whispers, giving you a quick, apologetic wink before pulling himself through the window with a bit more flair than necessary. you can feel the heat radiating off him as he steps inside, and for a brief second, you both just stand there in the quiet of the room.
there’s an awkward pause as he dusts himself off, glancing around your room as if trying to find a reason for being here, but then his eyes land on you. his expression softens just a little, that familiar cockiness fading away for a second.
“didn’t mean to sneak up on you, but… figured i’d take a risk. can’t sleep, you know?”
you laugh softly, a little nervously, though you can’t quite explain why. there’s something about him being here, standing in your room in the dead of night, that’s thrilling in a way you’re not ready to admit. “did you…climb the tree?” you ask, quirking an eyebrow at him.
“yeah,” he grins, his tone light, almost teasing. “it’s not that hard. plus, i thought i’d get your attention somehow.” he shrugs as if this is a totally reasonable thing to do. but when his eyes meet yours, there’s something behind them. something vulnerable, something unspoken.
“you’re crazy,” you mutter, but there’s no malice behind it. instead, your voice is soft, fond. you step back instinctively as he moves toward you, not sure if you want to step away or let him close the gap. you should be more concerned that he was here. if your parents found out, you have no idea what kind of reaction they’d have.
he looks at you for a moment, his gaze flickering over your face like he’s studying every detail. you can feel the tension building between the two of you, and even though you know you should step back again, you stay rooted to the spot. there’s a pull between you that neither of you can ignore.
“i just… couldn’t stop thinking about everything. about you,” he admits, the words coming out quieter than usual. he doesn’t sound like the usual confident haechan; there’s a vulnerability in his voice now, something raw that you’ve never heard before.
you blink, caught off guard. the air feels thick with unspoken words, and for a second, you’re at a loss for how to respond. your heart hammers in your chest, and before you can stop yourself, you move a little closer to him.
his eyes widen slightly when you step forward, but he doesn’t move away. instead, he reaches for your hand slowly, almost hesitantly. his fingers brush over yours, the lightest touch that sends a jolt through you. it’s so quiet, so soft, but it feels like the whole world has paused. you glance down at his hand—his fingers are rough, the veins on his arms standing out against his skin.
you look back up at him, meeting his eyes, and he squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a slow, almost intimate motion. there’s a quiet understanding between the two of you, a silent acknowledgment of everything that’s been building between you.
“you’re here,” you say, voice barely above a whisper, but it feels like it carries the weight of everything you haven’t been able to say.
he gives a small, lopsided grin, his thumb still moving over your hand. “yeah. i guess i am.”
and then, without another word, he leans in, and this time, when your lips meet, it’s not chaotic. it’s slow, deliberate, like the two of you are finally giving in to something you’ve been avoiding. his hand slides up to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin as if he’s memorizing the feel of you.
the kiss is soft at first, tentative, but it deepens as the moments stretch on, his other hand moving to gently to him by your back, pulling you closer. everything else fades away. the hesitation, the uncertainty and you lose yourself in it.
when you finally pull back, both of you are breathing a little heavier, the space between you still charged with the emotions neither of you knew how to express. you glance at the door again, your mind briefly flashing to the consequences of this. but for a moment, you don’t care.
“this is… insane,” you whisper, your voice trembling just slightly.
he leans his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i know. but i don’t think i can stay away.”
for a moment, you both just stand there, breathless, sharing the same quiet understanding. you’ve crossed a line you never thought you would, and for the first time, you’re not sure what comes next. but you know this: you can’t go back. not now.
—
after that night, everything changes. things between you and haechan aren’t just charged—they’re different. there’s no more pretending that what happened didn’t mean something.
friday the 15th
the next day at school, he’s there—leaning against his locker like usual, surrounded by his close group of friends, but his eyes are on you the second you walk in. it’s not just a glance this time. it’s intentional, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll look at him, if you’ll acknowledge what happened between you the night before.
your heart races, but you force yourself to act normal. your parents had been none the wiser about his late-night visit, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still thinking about it. thinking about him. you take a deep breath and head toward your first class, but just as you pass him, his fingers catch your wrist. it’s subtle, barely a touch, but enough to send a shiver down your spine.
“you’re not gonna ignore me now, are you?” his voice is low, teasing, but there’s something real underneath it.
“not here,” you murmur, pulling your hand away, your face heating up as you disappear into the crowd.
you glance around—people are watching. of course they are. it was unusual for a student like and a student like him to interact. let alone lee haechan and you.
but you can feel his gaze on you for the rest of the day.
after school -
he catches up to you before you can leave, cutting you off near the entrance. “so, sunshine, are we gonna talk about last night? or are you just gonna pretend i didn’t climb a damn tree for you?”
you roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “you could’ve fallen.”
“but i didn’t,” he grins, stepping closer, dropping his voice so only you can hear. “what, you worried about me?”
you are, but you won’t admit that. you sigh. “i don’t know what you expect me to say.”
his smirk fades just slightly, a flicker of something more serious in his eyes. “say it wasn’t nothing.”
you hesitate, because you can’t say that. you won’t lie. but you also don’t know what this is.
before you can respond, a voice calls your name from behind. one of your classmates. someone who shouldn’t be seeing you with him like this.
“i have to go,” you say quickly, stepping away.
he doesn’t stop you, but as you walk away, you hear him call out, just loud enough for you to hear—
“i’ll see you later, sunshine.”
and you know you will.
saturday night -
you get a text from him.
haechan: come outside
your heart leaps into your throat. you glance at your bedroom door, listening carefully. your parents are still awake. sneaking out has never been something you’ve even considered before, but now…
your fingers hover over your phone.
you: are you insane?
haechan: probably. but i wanna see you.
you hesitate. but only for a second.
and then, for the first time, you take the risk.
—
the door clicks softly behind you as you step onto the porch, the night air brushing cool against your skin. you shiver slightly, but you ignore it, your pulse already picking up when you spot haechan waiting just beyond the porch light’s glow, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie.
he steps forward as you approach, but then—he stops.
his eyes flicker down, lingering.
you suddenly realize what you’re wearing—silk shorts, the kind with delicate lace at the hem, barely brushing mid-thigh. paired with a thin, loose sweater, it’s nothing that scandalous, but under his gaze, you feel the heat creeping up your neck.
his tongue swipes over his bottom lip before he exhales, tilting his head. “damn, sunshine. if i knew sneaking into your thoughts at night got me this kind of welcome, i would’ve done it sooner.”
you cross your arms, giving him an unimpressed look despite the warmth spreading in your chest. “i wasn’t exactly expecting company.”
he hums, taking another step closer. “yeah? so you just wear this to bed every night?” his voice dips lower, teasing, but there’s something else there.
you roll your eyes, but you can’t ignore the way your stomach tightens. “are you done staring?”
his smirk deepens. “not even close.”
“why are you even here?” you sigh, trying to steer the conversation before you combust under his gaze.
his expression shifts slightly, something more serious flickering beneath the teasing. “couldn’t sleep.” he shrugs, eyes still on you but softer now. “kept thinking about you.”
your breath hitches. you weren’t expecting that.
you hesitate, shifting on your feet. “and what exactly were you thinking about?”
he doesn’t hesitate. “that kiss. both of them.”
you inhale sharply, your heart picking up speed.
he watches you carefully, stepping just close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze. “tell me i’m the only one who’s been losing sleep over it,” he murmurs. “tell me you don’t think about it too.”
you should brush it off. should laugh, roll your eyes, push him away like you always do.
but you don’t.
“…maybe a little.”
his lips quirk, but it’s not his usual cocky smirk—it’s softer. more real.
“thought so.”
before you can even react, his fingers find yours, brushing over your knuckles before lacing them together. it’s slow, deliberate—like he’s testing the waters, waiting for you to pull away.
you don’t.
he exhales a quiet laugh. “you’re in trouble, sunshine.”
you swallow. “why?”
his thumb traces over the back of your hand, and when he looks at you, there’s something almost fond in his eyes.
“’cause now that i’ve got you like this,” he murmurs, “i don’t think i can let go.”
—
you should go back inside. your parents are asleep just down the hall, and this is the kind of thing they warned you about. sneaking out into the night with a boy like him, hand in hand, heart racing in ways it shouldn’t.
but you don’t let go.
“come on,” he says, his grip tightening just slightly, like he’s afraid you might change your mind. “let’s go somewhere.”
“what? where?” you ask, but you’re already following him down the steps, his hand warm against yours.
he smirks, eyes glinting in the dim light. “trust me.”
and for some reason, you do.
—
the night air is crisp, cool against your skin as the two of you walk through the quiet streets. neither of you say much at first, just the soft scuff of your footsteps on the pavement, the occasional flickering of a streetlight overhead. it’s reckless, it’s stupid, but for some reason, it feels right.
he leads you toward a small park a few blocks away, one you haven’t been to in years. it looks different at night—emptier, quieter, like a hidden world that only the two of you know about.
“seriously?” you say, raising an eyebrow. “you dragged me out of bed for a playground?”
haechan grins, tugging you toward the swings. “come on, sunshine. live a little.”
you huff, but you sit anyway, the chains creaking slightly as you lean back. he takes the swing next to yours, feet planted on the ground, arms draped lazily over the chains.
for a moment, neither of you speak. the city hums softly in the distance, a car passing now and then, but here, in this little forgotten space, it feels like you’re in your own world.
then he breaks the silence.
“so,” he says, voice quieter now. “are you gonna tell me why you kissed me back?”
your fingers tighten around the swing’s chains.
you should lie. should brush it off, make a joke, something.
but instead, you glance at him, finding him already watching you, his usual smirk nowhere in sight.
“…i don’t know,” you admit.
he exhales a soft laugh, shaking his head. “wrong answer, sunshine.”
you frown. “oh? and what’s the right one?”
he leans in slightly, close enough that you can feel the warmth of him even in the cool night air. his voice drops, teasing but serious all at once.
“that you can’t get me out of your head, either.”
your breath catches.
you could argue. you could deny it. but instead, you just look at him, your heart pounding, and realize—maybe you don’t want to.
—
the morning after sneaking out with haechan, everything feels different.
your room is the same, the sun filtering through your curtains, casting warm streaks of light across your sheets. your parents are in the kitchen, the smell of coffee and toast drifting down the hall like any other saturday morning. nothing has changed.
except it has.
because your mind won’t stop replaying the night before. his voice, his hands, the way he looked at you under the dim glow of the streetlights, with that same dark eyeliner you’ve grown to like. the way he leaned in just close enough that you thought he might kiss you again but never did. the way your heart had pounded the entire walk back home, fingers still tingling from where he had held them, warm and steady.
and the worst part?
you didn’t want it to end.
you go through the day pretending everything is normal.
you do your chores, respond to messages, attempt to start your homework—but it all feels distant, like your mind is somewhere else entirely. every time your phone lights up, you half expect it to be him. but it never is.
and then, just when you think you might be going crazy, your mom’s voice cuts through the quiet.
“you’ve been distracted all morning.”
you blink, looking up from your untouched notebook at the kitchen table. your parents are sitting across from you, your dad flipping through the newspaper, your mom watching you with knowing eyes.
“i’m fine,” you say quickly, too quickly.
she hums, not convinced. “it’s not about that boy, is it?”
your heart stops. “what?”
your dad turns a page in the newspaper, not looking up. “the one you’ve been tutoring,” he says simply. “you know, the one we told you to be careful around.”
your pulse stutters. “it’s—no, of course not.”
your mom raises an eyebrow. “really? because ever since those sessions started, you’ve been acting a little… different.”
“and now you’re all spaced out,” your dad adds, still not looking up. “not getting a crush on him, are you?”
you scoff, forcing out a laugh that sounds almost believable. “as if.”
your mom exhales, satisfied for now. “good. boys like that, they’re nothing but trouble.”
your chest tightens. they don’t know anything. “so you’ve told me.” you sigh.
but instead of arguing, you just nod, mumbling something about needing to study before quickly escaping back to your room.
and the moment the door clicks shut behind you, your phone finally buzzes.
haechan: you up, sunshine?
you hesitate for half a second, holding back the small tug at your lips before responding.
you: yeah, why?
his reply comes instantly.
haechan: meet me? same spot.
your heart skips. you don’t even hesitate.
you: be there in 10.
—
the air feels heavier, like the wind is carrying something unspoken between you. you spot him before he sees you—leaning against the swing set, hoodie pulled over his head, one hand twisting a silver ring around his finger. he looks lost in thought, gaze fixed on the ground until he hears your footsteps.
his head lifts, and when he sees you, his lips twitch into a smirk—lazy, like he knew you’d come.
“thought maybe you wouldn’t show,” he says, rocking back on his heels.
you cross your arms, standing a few steps away. “why?”
he lets out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “figured maybe you started listening to your parents.”
you raise a brow. “you’re eavesdropping now?”
nah,” he says easily, stepping closer. “just know how people see me.”
you don’t respond. instead, you take a step closer, letting the silence settle between you.
“so,” you say after a beat, “why’d you call me out here?”
he exhales, tilting his head as he watches you. “needed to see you.”
the words come so easily, like he didn’t even have to think about them. like it was the most natural thing in the world.
your pulse stutters, but you keep your expression even. “and now that you have?”
he grins, stepping closer until there’s barely any space between you. “now?” his voice drops lower, eyes flickering over your face. “now i wanna know why you came.”
you swallow. why did you?
you should have ignored his message, should have listened to every warning sign telling you to stay away.
but standing here, heart pounding, heat rolling off him in waves—
you realize you don’t regret a damn thing.
“i wanted to see you too.” you say lowly.
—
after that night, something shifts.
it starts slow—an unspoken understanding, a magnetic pull that neither of you acknowledge but never fight.
one night turns into another. and then another.
sometimes, he climbs through your window just to talk, arms crossed against your windowsill, voice hushed as he tells you about his day. other times, he doesn’t talk at all, just pulls you close and kisses you like he’s afraid you’ll slip through his fingers.
and maybe you should be afraid too—afraid of how easy it is to let this happen, to want more. but you’re not.
—
you find yourself around him more at school, too.
it’s not obvious, not at first—just stolen glances across the hallway, his shoulder brushing yours when he passes by, the flicker of a smirk when he catches you looking.
but then he starts waiting for you after class, hands stuffed in his pockets, always acting like he just happened to be there. like it wasn’t intentional.
and you let him.
because somehow, being near him feels natural now. even with the tutoring sessions over. he seemed to be doing pretty well in science now anyway.
—
the nights are different. the nights are yours.
sneaking out is reckless, dangerous, a risk you wouldn’t have taken before. but now? now it’s routine.
sometimes, you meet at the park, swinging lazily under the glow of the streetlights. sometimes, he drags you into the city, leading you through neon-lit streets, hands brushing in the dark.
and sometimes—most nights, actually—he’s at your window.
it always starts the same way: a faint rustling, the quiet scrape of sneakers against bark, and then, moments later, his head poking through the window frame with a grin.
“you’ve got to stop leaving this unlocked, sunshine,” he teases, even though you both know you won’t.
and every time, without fail, you roll your eyes, but you don’t stop him when he pulls himself inside, muscles flexing, veins prominent under his skin as he steadies himself.
the first few times, you told yourself this was temporary—just a phase, just him being him.
but then there’s a night where he doesn’t just talk, doesn’t just steal a few kisses before leaving.
there’s a night where he lingers.
where his hands settle on your waist, where he backs you up against your wall, where the air between you is thick with something unspoken, something dangerous.
where he kisses you deeper, hands tracing slow patterns against your skin, like he’s memorizing you.
where you let him.
because at some point, you stopped trying to fight this. stopped trying to pretend you didn’t want it.
because at some point, you stopped caring that he was the kind of boy your parents warned you about.
—
it was one of the nights he had skipped into your room, you greeted him with a smile and things went from there.
his breath is warm against your lips, hands gripping your waist as he backs you into the wall.
he’s been teasing all night—touching you just enough to leave you wanting more, murmuring things in that low, rough voice that made your pulse stutter. but now? now there’s no space left between you, and neither of you are trying to fight it.
his fingers press into your sides, slow and steady, like he’s testing how much you’ll let him take. his lips brush yours once, twice—just enough to make you chase him before he finally kisses you like he means it.
and you let yourself fall into it.
your hands slide into his hair, fingers threading through the soft strands, tugging just enough to draw a quiet groan from his throat. his body presses closer, chest rising and falling against yours, the heat between you dizzying.
“you’re gonna drive me crazy,” he murmurs against your lips, voice thick, almost strained.
you don’t even get the chance to answer before he kisses you again, harder this time, like he’s losing whatever little patience he had left.
his hands slip under your shirt, fingertips skimming your skin, sending shivers up your spine. and you should stop this, should put some distance between you before it’s too late—
but then his hands tighten on your hips, and you feel the way his heart is racing just as fast as yours, and god—
you don’t want to stop.
“tell me to leave,” he murmurs, lips trailing along your jaw, down to the hollow of your throat.
you swallow hard, tilting your head back as he presses closer, as his hands continue their slow exploration.
“tell me you don’t want this,” he says again, but there’s no teasing in his voice this time—just something raw, something vulnerable, something almost pleading.
and you should. you should.
instead, your grip tightens in his hair, and you whisper back, “i don’t want you to.”
his response is immediate—his hands slide lower, pulling you flush against him, and he groans against your lips like he’s just lost whatever last shred of control he had.
“fuck,” he exhales, forehead resting against yours. “you’re really gonna be the end of me, sunshine.”
but he doesn’t stop.
and neither do you.
—
when you finally pull your mouth from his, his lips are swollen, breath uneven as he leans into you, hands still firm on your waist like he can’t bring himself to let go just yet.
you don’t want him to.
but somewhere between the heat of his touch and the way his body presses against yours, reality creeps back in.
your parents are just down the hall.
he shouldn’t even be here.
“we should stop,” you murmur, though the words barely make it out, still breathless from the way he just kissed you.
he exhales sharply, eyes squeezing shut for a moment before he tilts his head back to look at you. his pupils are blown wide, jaw tight like he’s forcing himself to pull back.
“yeah,” he mutters, voice rough. “yeah, we should.”
but neither of you move.
his thumb brushes against your side, like he’s memorizing the feel of you.
“sunshine,” he says softly, like a warning.
you know you have to let him go.
but when he leans in one last time, mouth hovering just over yours, you don’t stop him.
“just one more?” he murmurs, but it’s a lie.
one more turns into two, then three, then a lingering kiss pressed to the corner of your lips, like he’s reluctant to leave you at all.
but eventually, he does.
he steps back first, running a hand through his hair like he’s trying to ground himself, like he’s trying to pull himself together before he does something you’ll both regret.
“guess i should go before i completely fuck this up, huh?” he says, forcing a smirk, but you see the hesitation in his eyes.
you nod, but you don’t trust yourself to say anything.
he moves toward the window, but just before climbing out, he looks back, gaze flickering over you—your flushed cheeks, your parted lips, the way your fingers are still trembling just slightly.
and then, instead of saying goodbye, he just grins.
“try not to miss me too much,” he teases, but there’s something softer beneath the words. something real.
and with that, he’s gone, disappearing into the night like he was never there at all.
except—he was.
you press your fingers against your lips, as if you can still feel him there, and then, you smile.
it’s embarrassing, the way your stomach flutters, the way your cheeks heat up, the way you actually giggle like some lovesick schoolgirl.
you should not be this giddy over a boy like him.
but you are.
and you couldn’t find it in you to care anymore.
—
it was another saturday night, around 12am, your parents long gone to bed.
his hands are warm against your skin, fingers teasing under the hem of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, pulling you closer.
you’re not even thinking anymore—just moving, just feeling. stumbling over your own feet as he walks you back, laughing quietly when you almost trip over a pile of books.
“shh,” you whisper, barely suppressing a giggle.
he grins against your lips. “that was you.”
“doesn’t matter,” you breathe, fingers curling into his shirt, feeling the way his muscles tense beneath the fabric. “just be quiet.”
he hums in amusement, hands sliding up your sides, his touch slow, deliberate, testing. “you always tell me what to do, sunshine?”
“someone has to.”
“mm,” he leans in, lips brushing your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt, pushing the fabric up just slightly—waiting for permission.
you exhale, whispering a word of approval.
he doesn’t hesitate. he tugs your shirt up, just enough to expose more of your skin—
knock.
the door swings open.
“what are you doing—?”
you freeze.
haechan freezes.
your mom stands in the doorway, eyes locking onto the scene in front of her—haechan’s hands still on you, his hoodie discarded on the floor, your shirt lifted just enough to make it painfully obvious what was happening.
for a second, no one moves.
no one breathes.
haechan is the first to react, stepping back so fast he almost knocks over your chair. he runs a hand through his hair, like he’s trying to play it cool, like there’s any coming back from this.
you don’t dare turn around.
your heart pounds in your chest, face burning hotter than ever before. this time not with the same heat.
your mom inhales sharply, voice eerily calm.
“downstairs. now.”
the finality in her tone sends a chill down your spine.
haechan glances at you, expression unreadable, but you can’t look at him.
because this time, you’re really in trouble.
—
▸ j.note ; finally releasing this lmao it’s been in the sm basement for quite some time now
✿⃘ֹ #1: meandom!haechan who's still weak for his gf - @hyuckmov
✿⃘ֹ Touch me - @byuntrash101 (with lots of love and patience haechan was able to heal your soul. with him it feels right and you are ready to take the next big leap)
✿⃘ֹ she’s quiet (s,f) - @ijuliet (although you were not looking to make new friends, the ones you had tried their hardest to push you out of your comfort zone to find something abnormal for you. which is why you’re at a frat party on a thursday night, watching as lee donghyuck observes you from afar.)
✿⃘ֹ falling in love with haechan - @ooshu
✿⃘ֹ stalker!haechan x fem!reader - @neocentral
✿⃘ֹ flustered by you - @lelengerine (your boyfriend surely knows how to make you flustered, even when he’s the one who should be.)
✿⃘ֹ Danger - @daegall (however, on one particular day, the epitome of 'danger’ shows up to your doorstep and is asking you on a date. you recognized this certain person as lee haechan, one of your art classmate, renjun’s, best buddies.)
✿⃘ֹ getting even | lee haechan (P1) - @ofjunemoment (Haechan is notorious for his pranks. Who can forget about the one time the campus fountain was bleeding red? You were weary of never getting on his wrong side, but when you get to know him better, it seems like behind all that front he's a sweet and caring guy. That is until you get a bucket of water dunked on you straight after he promised he wouldn't pull something on you. You're not only pissed that he had fooled you like this, but that he chose such a simple prank.)
✿⃘ֹ double dog dare - @waithyuck (your best friends renjun and jeno decide that it would be funny to dare you to sit on the lap of your long time crush, lee donghyuck, during a college party.)
✿⃘ֹ ⇢ haechan as your boyfriend - @justalildumpling
✿⃘ֹ THE ONLY EXCEPTION - @jaylaxies (mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.)
✿⃘ֹ body language [l.dh] - @badalivie (You and Donghyuck have been dance partners for the past 6 years. When he gets into an accident that costs him a competition and substitutes himself with another dancer, he realizes he’s not so open at all to having you dance with someone else, especially having their hands in the places he considered his.)
✿⃘ֹ pancakes for two - @pearlesscentt (haechan x reader, college!au)
✿⃘ֹ ❛NICE GUY❜ ( l. haechan ) - @luvyeni (in the midst of your stalker running lose you trust haechan , he seems like nice guy)
✿⃘ֹ all is fair in love and war - @lonelyharmonies (when you meet a guy once and forget his name, the last thing you expect is meeting him again on your new job.)
✿⃘ֹ spur of the moment (ldh) - @haetrack
✿⃘ֹ pairing: lee donghyuck x reader - @yrqrnc (wherein, it’s a late afternoon and you’re watching your favorite series with your dearest boyfriend as you cuddle on the couch, but it seems that it’s physically impossible for you to keep your attention fixed on the large monitor in front of you, and not him.)
✿⃘ֹ impulse - @nctsworld (saying i love you for the first time during the heat of the moment doesn’t really count... right?)
✿⃘ֹ home is a feeling | lee donghyuck - @neonun-au (Fresh off a break-up, not willing to stomach spending Christmas single with your family, you book a last minute trip overseas to escape the impending loneliness, not realizing that perhaps running away from your feelings will only serve to intensify them. You arrive at your home-away-from-home only to find you’re not the only one staying there. Through some unfortunate (or not so unfortunate) mistake, the AirBnB you booked has also been booked by a handsome young man looking for a similar escape from his own life. Now you have to choose whether or not to stay and spend your Christmas with a stranger or scramble to find a lonely hotel room last minute over the holidays.)
✿⃘ֹ corny stuck under the bed scenario - @sherwees
✿⃘ֹ indica dreams | ldh - @hazyhae (when you finally decide to do something about your sleeping problem, your best friend suggests weed as a solution. he introduces you to donghyuck — a plug who makes it his personal mission to teach you everything there is to know about it.)
✿⃘ֹ ( 📁 twenty minutes. by lee haechan ＿ ⭐ O1O1 ) - @lavandiors (where haechan finds you in the practice room and can't help but want you all to himself.)
✿⃘ֹ ⎯ sweet nothings… - @foolsunz (you’re going to be the death of him, he knows it.)"
a/n; this song makes me feel things & this is rly haechan’s song to me so i became inspired
cw: angst👀, crying, break up, fluff, happy ending, smut — kissin, bath sex hello, p in v, reverse cowgirl
summary: you broke up with haechan because you can’t stand the pressure that his job has on you.
wc: 5.6k
“ i’m broken in your arms that hold no warmth, you lean on me as if you’ll definitely stay ”
it would have been stupid of you to expect any reaction other than this from him. you were his first real girlfriend. his first relationship, his first love. how did you expect him to feel?
“i’m pathetic, i cant live without you. i’ve been with you for too long; you’re a part of me now and i’m a part of you. if you leave me, neither of us will ever be whole again? do you want that? to feel that something’s missing for the rest of your life?” he whined into your long jersey skirt and you could tell by the raspy tone of his voice that he was close to crying.
you took a step out of your swimming thoughts and into the harsh reality that you had no choice but to face. coming back to your senses you looked around haechan’s room. framed posters of michael jackson on the left wall, framed certificates of haechan’s many achievements on the right. you then looked to the front of the room, blue-grey moonlight shining into the room as the only source of light. finally, you looked down at your now ex boyfriend sat next to you on this huge bed, head in your lap and practically begging you not to leave him.
“donghyuck… you don’t mean any of what you’re saying, i know you. i know you’re dramatic.” you stroked his hair, knowing that would make things worse but you couldn’t help but comfort him. it was what you knew. what you were used to.
“don’t leave me like this i won’t recover, i can’t— i won’t live without you.” haechan pleaded with everything in him. the way he felt about you was just something you; or anyone, could never understand. he barely understood it himself. you were just so perfect to him. you were everything he liked; you challenged him, you made him a better person, you supported him and you loved him in a way that no one else ever did. or ever could.
but you were tired now. having unwavering love for someone is easy to an extent. to be loved is to be seen, and yet, you felt like haechan never saw you. physically because of his work, and sometimes even mentally. he acknowledged you and knew you were there for him but it never seemed to feel like he really saw you. he just knew he had you.
“call one of your friends, drink some water, have a nap. haechan, i need to get my stuff and go home.” as gently as possible, you lifted his head off your lap, “you cant keep me here because you ‘cant live without me’ — that’s a terrible excuse, because that’s all you do.”
the sight of his glossy brown eyes staring at you was devastating, but you forced yourself to be strong. for the sake of both of you. because if you stayed in this relationship that you both knew wasn’t working or healthy, you felt that it would hurt more than separation.
“i cant be sitting around in this big apartment waiting for you to get home in the middle of the night, just so you can hold me to stay warm and get to sleep. i have needs just as much as you, and while you’re getting attention from your homoerotic friendships, i get nothing at all until you come home at 1am to spoon me. that is not a full life, i need more.”
“this is just the tour period, you know this is how it goes every time. it’s long but it never lasts forever, you know that. you have to believe that we can tough it out because we can. come on. you love me. i know you love me.”
your body heaved with a weighted sigh, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “i love you, haechi, but i also love myself and that is why i cant keep doing this. think about how you’re affected by the idea of me leaving you, that’s how i feel already. you leave to go to wherever the first show is and i’m sent into a deep loneliness for months and it’s so heavy on my soul, i cant do it anymore. if you love me, you want me to never have to feel like that again.”
“i love you… i— i love you.. but i need you, too. you ground me, you’re my everything, you’re my escape. me being gone that long hurts me too.”
you got up off his bed. “but that’s the life you chose. this isn’t the life i choose.”
haechan got up after you, tears finally falling from his eyes as he frantically begged you. “baby, baby, baby, wait. wait, baby, please. mama, talk to me. talk to me.” he grabbed onto one of your hands with both of his, holding it tight, but you pushed him off.
“no— i’m not doing this anymore i’m sorry.”
⋆
the resonance of the bass in the music rattled your body as you followed a security guard down this tiny hall. your body was shaking and you couldn’t tell of it was the loud outro music from the concert, or your heart about to beat of your chest. both you and the security guard stopped at a room that read ‘엔씨티 Dream’. this is where you would see haechan again, in person, for the first time in 3 years.
you knocked on the door and after hearing a ‘yes?’, thankfully in haechan’s voice, you pushed it open. when his eyes landed on yours, his face lit up in astonishment.
“hello…” you dragged out the ‘o’ in some weak attempt to mask your awkwardness.
the standard manners of greeting were completely lost on haechan at this current moment. he was too focused on the fact that after everything that had happened, you still came to see him perform.
“i cant believe you actually came. when i sent you the tickets i didn’t expect you to come — i was feeling emotional. renjun told me not to send them but i figured that if i sent them and you didn’t come, then it means something. but if i sent them and you did come, then that means something too.”
“you still have such a poetic way of speaking.” your eyes were wide at his analogy. “i cant believe i’m even asking you this but, how does it feel to be touring? are you like, enjoying it?”
“it’s bittersweet.. yeah. i probably shouldn’t say this but, i sometimes think of you when i’m touring,” oh. “at the times when i wonder if it’s all worth it.”
“you shouldn’t do that to yourself…”
it was out of his hands. whenever things started getting hard for him, haechan’s mind drifted towards you. whenever he felt overtired from staying up all night practicing, he thought about how he’d rather be sleeping beside you. whenever he felt overworked from his extremely saturated schedule, he thought about how happy he would be if he left that all behind for you.
“i don’t think i can help it. i meant it when i said you’re a part of me. but now i wonder if i should have been that emotional. because you being a part of me; you never really left me. … no pressure.” he laughed out that last part nervously. it was clear that he was no way near over you.
“no yeah, totally. you were really good, i meant to say. you’re so good live, i always thought that.”
haechan’s cheeks threatened to redden. “thank you…”
“it feels so weird to be backstage right now. i feel like a fan — like i know fans don’t come back here specifically, but. i don’t know. it feels different from before.”
“it does doesn’t it.”
“like, before i could come in here all comfortable and say hi to everyone but now the vibe has shifted. when i came in, staff just told me to follow them to the room and where i might have to wait for you and before that, i saw the members but no one even looked at me. what did you tell them about me hah…” you tried to laugh it off but your chest felt tight.
“it’s funny, i didn’t tell them anything, really. after you left i uh.. i got in the shower with my clothes on. dramatic, i know,” very much so… “but then renjun came to the apartment and saw the state i was in. he knows i’m dramatic, but he knows it’s never without some reason and he knew the reason without having to ask. he made me get it together.”
you furrowed your brows. “so, you’ve never spoken to the guys about that night after all this time? how come?
“part of me feels that they don’t need to know and that it’s just something i can be more private about; i think another part of me is scared of what they’ll say. most of the guys are pretty indifferent about it, i’m assuming due to lack of knowledge. i think renjun; being as blunt and opinionated as he is, really feels for me and resents you as a result of that. i don’t need him talking about something he knows nothing about— someone he knows nothing about.”
“huh. that’s fair.” admitting this to yourself was the last thing you wanted to do, but the fact that he was still just as defensive of you as he had always been made you feel some type of way.
“uh, how many shows do you have left?”
“this is my last one, babe. i mean— yeah.” haechan’s face scrunched up. he was embarrassed. “sorry.”
“that’s okay.” you laughed off his little slip up. “i’m happy for you, you get freedom now.”
haechan smiled coyly. “yup. i can do whatever i want.”
to haechan, this was the worst part of the touring period. one of the main times you would pop into his head. because it used to be a time he looked forward to, coming home to his big ass apartment after unpacking his stuff at the dorms, and there you would be waiting for him with a celebratory cake or a skimpy set of lingerie. depending on the vibes of the last ‘i cant wait for you to come home’ conversation.
“what do you want? to do, i mean.”
the tone of haechan’s voice lowered by maybe half an octave. he would later argue that this was unintentional but you would beg to differ. “i don’t know.. i’ll have to think of something.”
“mm.” your eyes darted away from his.
“so, where are you staying? somewhere nice?” he tilted his head at you and you squinted at him, accusingly.
“should i even tell you that?”
“you should, i wanna know. not for any particular reason.”
figuring that telling him couldn’t hurt, you decided to give up the information. “i’m at the ramada that’s not too far from here. i’d say that’s pretty nice.”
“hmm. how many stars is that one?”
this made you laugh at him. “uh, i don’t know, is that important? it’s a super nice hotel.”
“i just think since i dragged you across the globe to come to the final concert, i should at least cover some expenses and give you the best experience. the best hotel, and you should fly home in first class.”
your head dropped forwards in laughter, almost hitting his chest. “you really are the most dramatic man I’ve ever met.”
“but isn’t it nice that i’m dramatic about you, rather than just in general?
you blinked at him with surprised smile. surprised for what reason you honestly didn’t know.
cautiously, haechan bit his bottom lip “too far?”
“no, i think that was just about appropriate. just unexpected. i had a good time watching the show so i’ll let it slide.”
haechan wanted to roll his eyes, but he saw an in, so he took it. “yeah? you liked watching me?”
your brows came together in suspicion. why word it like that? “uh, yeah.”
“i was watching you too. did you notice?”
“at times.”
“alright well,” he started pulling pastel blue and yellow confetti out of his hair. “i’m about to be kicked out of here. i need to change and pack up. will you wait for me?”
you nodded. “sure.”
as the one staff member was in the room finishes clearing up a few things and leaves just the two of you in the room, an excuse enters haechan’s brain. “i’m just a little weird about being in here by myself. it’s just that i worry about someone coming in. but at least if you’re here when the staff aren’t, i can get changed freely.”
“sure.”
haechan’s eyes scanned your features for answers. “are you uncomfortable if i change in front of you?”
“no. are you comfortable enough to change in front of me?”
“of course. i was naked around you for years.”
you laughed softly. “hm. that’s true.”
after he got changed into a big baggy shirt and sweats while you awkwardly sat on one of the couches in the room, haechan turned to you.
“okay. lets go.”
you truly had no idea what he was talking about. but even now, you trusted him enough that you would follow him anywhere. and so you did. he wrapped you in a huge black puffer coat to hide you from the paparazzi and guided you out of the back entrance of the KSPO arena.
“you have all your belongings right? ‘cause we can’t come back here.”
“yeah.”
“okay.” he stopped with you at his car. a sleek black mercedes truck. “so, you’re coming with me?”
“i probably shouldn’t.”
“that might be true. but do you want to?”
wordlessly, you got into the car beside him and he smiled. haechan was fighting so hard to hide his excitement. but he was aware that you might feel anxious about your decision to go with him so he made an attempt to ease your mind.
“i’m not staying too far from the venue. i’m a little worried about certain people hovering around the hotel so you’re gonna have to keep wearing this big jacket and tuck your hair into this hat.” he passed you a dark navy coloured bucket hat. “make sure you tuck all of it in. or were both in trouble…”
you sighed. “i really should have just gone back to my 5 star hotel.”
“nooo. i’m excited to show you my suite. i’m not used to having my own hotel room so i’m all giddy about it. i feel you might be too.”
your brows furrowed at the connotations of his statement. who was he to be all high and mighty, thinking a hotel room would be the height of your fascination. “you don’t know that. i could be overspending and living lavish without you.”
“i don’t doubt that. but i also think that regardless of that, you could find it cool. seeing as you’re so appreciative of the little things, anyway.”
you couldn’t help but be mildly surprised with how well he knew you still. “you got me there!”
the walks from the car to check in, from check in to the elevator and from the elevator to his room were all filled with comfortable silence. you were well aware that what you were doing was unconventional but for some reason you felt weirdly at peace with following your ex boyfriend up to his hotel room. when haechan scanned his key card and let you both in, your eyes blew wide with shock. despite the fact that it didn’t obscure your view at all, you had to take off the hat he gave you to get a better look.
“holy shit, why is there so much open space? this is like a little apartment.” you ignored of haechan’s laughter. “no, i really wasn’t expecting this.”
the room was reminiscent of a small apartment with an open floorpan. the pale wooden flooring, floor to ceiling windows and 90s-style circular bed were the key accents of the room, catching your immediate attention as well as the small accent lights that lined the curtain rods. you felt as though you were the celebrity.
“i thought you’d at least pretend to be unfazed.”
“no, but this is really nice. it looks expensive, like. this is really how the other side lives… ”
haechan had given up trying to look cool at this point. he was just as excited over this big room as you were. he dropped his hands onto your shoulders and shook them a little.
“i know, i was so happy. come look at the bathroom.” taking your hand, he led you to a big room with a huge shower indented into the back wall; twin sinks to the left, and a ridiculously huge tub on the right.
“oh my god. haechan.”
“right?”
“you have a pool in your bathroom.” you turned back to him. you had to make sure he saw how shocking this was to you. just really unbelievable. he could only laugh at you. he knew he’d be right about your reaction to everything.
“god, this is beautiful.”
“mhm.” absentmindedly, he agreed with a nod as he dragged his eyes over you back profile. and if he wasn’t so careful, you would have caught him as you swiftly turned around.
“it kinda makes me wanna take a bath.” you looked at him with innocent eyes. but the two of you both knew what you were implying. it was all part of a little game the two off you used to play. you would pass off a suggestion as a casual comment. like some sort of trigger for haechan to latch onto and if he was lucky, he would get to find out what you were really asking of him. in this current moment, he just couldn’t believe it was happening.
“y-yeah? i mean, really?”
“mhm.”
“like, right now?”
you feigned an expression of consideration, bringing your forefinger to tap at your chin before responding. “yup. do you… mind?”
you started taking off the jacket he leant you and dropped it to the floor; the sound of it hitting the floor emphasising the silence that had been created between the two of you. your hands then moved to slide off your pants.
“you just gonna stand there and watch me change?” reaching to turn on the hot water, you stared haechan down as he took a few steps back to lean against the sink opposite the tub.
“if you don’t mind.” his eyes drank you in as if he was stranded in the desert. pupils blown so wide, the shade of his eyes seemed to have changed from that soft brown to a dark almost black color.
you scoffed at his bluntness, switching to letting the cold water run before pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra in a swift motion. crouching beside the tub, the water was warm against your fingertips as you tested the temperature. scanning your eyes over the selection of mini soaps the hotel provided, you turned to look behind you at haechan. “do you have any sweeter smelling soaps?”
“not since you left me, no.”
you looked off to the side. time and place… “ok. i’ll just use this,” you picked up a bottle of bath soak, very blatantly advertised towards men, “lemongrass stuff. i’m about to be smelling real good.” you poured in the liquid, swirling it around before getting inside. the sigh that left you when you let the water submerge you up to your shoulders put haechan on high alert. he felt like a sleeper agent.
he shrugged, though. he was playing it cool for you. “you always smell good, anyways.”
“i do?”
“yeah, baby.”
“thank you.”
haechan pushed himself up off of that sink and knelt down beside the tub. he reached up to run the side of his finger along the side of your face. “are you too warm?”
spring in korea was pretty hot. you were starting to wonder if you should have picked a different method of seduction. but you were stubborn. “no. i’m kinda cold actually.”
he laughed at you. “put your hair up if you’re hot.” he started playing with some of the lose strands.
you swatted his hand away and twisted your now wet and heavy hair into a bun, causing water droplets to land on your face and lashes.
“yeah, i like that.”
“it’s not for you to like.”
haechan rolled his eyes at you playfully, smile never leaving his face. “you look really beautiful right now.”
“i do?”
“yes, you’re glowing.”
shyly, you dropped your head in soft laughter. “i’m just sweaty as hell.”
“okay, but you really do look beautiful.”
you gave him an almost sad smile, “thank you.” holding his jaw with one hand. instinctively, he leaned in to peck your lips. and instinctively, you returned it.
“ah— sorry. i didn’t even think.” haechan’s face grew hot. he worried he had totally ruined the momentum of whatever the hell you two were doing at this current moment, but he couldn’t have been further off. you reached out of the tub with both hands to bring his face back to yours, splashing the first of many droplets of water onto the stone floor around him.
your chest settled in a quiet sigh as your lips moved against each other’s. haechan kissed you softly enough that you felt that if you opened your eyes, everything around you would disappear. this moment felt like a dream to you. whether it was a good dream or a bad dream, it was too soon for you to tell.
haechan was first to pull away from the kiss. you thought he was cutting it off for both of your sanity but really, he just wanted to look at you again since there was no telling if he would ever see you like this again after tonight.
you looked up at him, eyes big and glossy. “are you getting in?”
haechan stood up from where he was knelt beside you to pull his shirt over his head, “mhm.” and shortly after, taking off his sweatpants. “move over.”
your brows came together in an incredulous look pointed at haechan and his tone, but nevertheless, you moved backwards to the end of the tub, letting haechan sit down in front of you.
“hey,” he tapped at the side of your knee that was propped up in the water. “this kinda reminds me of at my old apartment, when you’d be like ‘hm i feel like i should have a bath’”
the fact that haechan grabbed your attention only to perform the worst impression of you he could possibly muster up. the voice was all wrong, the mannerisms were lacking…
“boy, shut up.” you flicked water up in his face and he just let out that raspy breathy laugh of his.
“or if i had a super demanding day of work,” you simpered at the fond memory.
“and we would just sit in here forever… getting all wrinkly.”
“yeah, and getting water everywhere for no reason. that used to piss me off.” you laughed with him, resting your head in your hands.
“hah, yeah…”
“cause how the fuck did it all get here? all on the bath mat and shit.”
haechan shot you an accusatory glare, silently telling you that he knows you know damn good and well how that water got there. he raised a brow at you, “want me to show you how the water got there?”
“shut up.” you laughed out.
“no seriously, cmere i’ll show you.” he held his hand out for you and you rose to your knees in the tub, letting the water drip down your body. and despite being naked, wet and exposed in front of him; haechan’s eyes never left yours as you dipped your head down to kiss him again. his hands roamed your body slowly, with no real intention, just to confirm with himself that this was really happening to him.
you moved forward, moving your legs over his to straddle him and pressed one more peck to his lips before pulling away. the sight of him gazing up at you was intoxicating. his face was dewy as well and his hair was slightly mussed and damp. you pushed some hair out of his face as you beamed down at him.
“you’re thinking. i can literally hear it. i can hear cogs turning in there.” you tapped his forehead.
“i’m thinking about you.”
your thumb rubbed against his cheek, “tell me.”
“i want you to turn around for me.”
this was the last thing you were expecting to hear. for multiple reasons. although you were the one to straddle him, you did not expect this little bath to led to sex — you thought heavy petting at most. and another reason; haechan never liked fucking you from behind. if you ever did that, he would have you turn you around and look at him. he was a ‘make love’ kind of guy to his core.
“really..?” you frowned slightly at him but he didn’t falter, rubbing your butt under the water for emphasis.
“yeah, baby, i wanna see you.”
‘see you.’ he said. okay. you stood back up in the water to comfortably turn your back to him. his hand slid up your wet thighs to guide your hips back down towards his. you sat down with your back to him and his dick flush against your clit. with a slow, calculated shift of his hips, he rubbed it against you, coating himself in your slick before letting you push it inside of you.
haechan sighed quietly as you slid down on him, making it a point not to make any noise. he refused to be any more vulnerable with you than he already was at this point. talking about the tour with you was enough, showing you the room was enough, taking a bath with you was enough; he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle looking into your eyes during intimacy, just for you to have to leave again. he knew he couldn’t show his submissive vulnerability to you at this moment. he knew that would break him.
you were intentional with your movements at first. your hands braced on his thighs, you shifted your hips back and forth over him while he was inside you, partially for your own pleasure and partially to only allow minimal water to escape the tub. you, too, worked at remaining silent. the only sounds that could be heard in the room were panting and the harsh sound of the water making waves with the the way you were grinding against haechan.
“your ass is perfect…” haechan squeezed at your hip in aims to ground himself as he watched you shake your ass on him, “don’t stop doing that.”
he felt hypnotised. ideally, haechan would have you bouncing in his lap rather than grinding on him like this. he would drain all this water right now, yanking himself out of warm comfort to make that easier for you to do. but haechan found any sign of your pleasure to be pleasurable for him. his eyes seemed to follow each jiggle and twitch of your ass from the way you were making yourself feel good on him, like it was a swinging pocketwatch in front of him. your pleasure alone was enough to get him there.
“can feel you sqeezing me.” haechan leaned forward to whisper by your ear, gently pressing his hand on your pelvis. “can you feel me there?”
a whine threatened to leave your throat and he was so glad for this. he knew it wouldn’t be long for him to lose his composure too.
“haechan,” you sighed hoarsely, “i’m getting close…”
“yeah?”
“mm.” leaning your head back over his shoulder, you locked your lips with his, starting to move up and down slowly while you let his tongue into your mouth. pleasure got the better of your stubbornness, you couldn’t bring yourself to hold back your moans anymore, fucking yourself on his dick and moaning quietly. “i think i’m gonna cum.”
haechan rubbed one of hands up down the expanse of your back as if to coax the orgasm out of you. “yeah? come on, beautiful, cum for me. feel good for me.” he moaned out, leant back and watching you get off on him.
you tilted your head towards the ceiling to stop your welling tears from rolling down your cheeks. “h-haechannie—!”
for a few shallow thrusts, haechan’s hips met yours in languid motions slightly hindered by the force of the soapy water. after he came inside you, he rest his chin on one of your shoulders with a content hum.
“was that good for you?” his voice was quiet beside your ear. “you finished right?”
“yeah, didn’t you feel it?” you breathed out and a laugh and he laughed with you.
“yeah, i felt amazing. but you didn’t tell me how you were feeling, so how would i know?”
“i didn’t wanna talk.” you pursed your lips as your thoughts circled around in your head. you probably shouldn’t have said that. should have said ‘i didn’t wanna tell you’ or ‘you don’t need to know everything’. you had given yourself away completely now.
“because you were crying?”
you sighed. “i wasn’t crying.”
“hey,” he grabbed your chin to comfortably turn you towards him and leaned to the side so he could see you better. “look at my face.”
haechan’s tan face was tinted a saturated pink around his cheeks and nose. this is ridiculous, you thought.
“you cried?”
this was definitely a conversation for a different time. “i guess you’re just that good.”
you laughed loudly this time. “you’re so…” finding words to describe him felt impossible sometimes. “don’t project onto me.”
he squinted at you. “you know i’m not.”
bracing your hands on the sides of the tub, you rose up off him and stood up in the tub to get out. “mhm.”
one of haechan’s hands wrapped around your calf, making you freeze in your tracks. “jesus, haechan! what if i fell?!”
“wait.” you turned back to look down at him and there he was frowning up at you in his fancy little tub. “where are you going?”
you shook his leg off and stepped out of the tub, being careful not to slip on the water both you and haechan had practically flooded the room with. treading carefully to grab one of the two robes hanging on the back of the bathroom door, you dramatically turned to look at haechan. “to bed.”
he rolled his eyes at your matter-of-fact tone before getting out himself. when he came out of the bathroom, clad in a robe matching yours, haechan found you laid limbs all spread out at centre of the big round bed.
your generally glowy state in your little robe combined with the beds navy satin bedding made you look like a star in the night sky. haechan smiled at the thought.
“move over, please.” you turned to lay on your side and haechan came up behind you.
“i don’t leave seoul for another two days.”
you felt movement against your hair that feels like haechan nodding. “good to know.”
“and y’know how you said you wanted me to have the best experience here?” he nodded once again, “what if i just cancelled all my plans and you show me the best parts of seoul as an idol? this is your brand.”
“i think you would have fun.”
you smiled. “think so?” he nodded. “i’ll do that then.”
that night, you sleep better than you have for years. completely content, didn’t need to get up to pee, didn’t feel fidgety, didn’t get night sweats. you were content; perfectly happy. so happy that you couldn’t possibly think of the worst thing that could happen if you woke haechan up. gently, you prodded at the side of his arm a couple of times until he cracked one eye only. it seemed as though a few seconds after he opened the one eye, he registered your appearance and a smile crept its way onto his face.
“need something?” haechan’s voice was raspy and heavy with sleep.
“actually, yeah. your thoughts on last night?”
haechan’s smile intensified. “no notes. what about you?”
you scoffed at his ability to turn such a monumental moment into some sort of graded project. but you brought it back. “i think i wanna give you a second chance.”
haechan screwed his eyes shut out of pure joy before turning to face you fully. he had to have been dreaming. “was it something i said?”
“boy, be serious. i just feel like we’re both a little more mature now and instead of waiting around for you, i can busy myself with other things. you don’t have to be my whole life.”
haechan felt a twang in his heart at the idea of not being able to be absolutely everything to you but he understood. selfishly, as much as he wanted to be everything to you, never again did he want you to hurt as much as you did back then. “i should have made more time for you. i know that now; i can work on that now.”
“i know that’s right.” you leaned in to peck his lips and he kissed you back, smiling into it. “i’m gonna go get showered and you can take me somewhere.”
he scrunched his face up at you playfully. “you got it.”
