The camera pans over the familiar facade of Kim Hee-chul’s house. Not the sterile, pristine white that viewers remember from My Little Old Boy, but something much warmer now—lived-in, loved-in. The entrance was gentle, cozy, the door flanked by potted plants with trailing vines that curled around the frame like nature’s embrace.
Inside, everything told a story. The living room no longer echoed in blank minimalism. Soft pastel pink throw pillows lay against the couch—a star-shaped one slightly lopsided from being hugged too often, and a cloud-shaped pillow crinkled at the edge. A fleece blanket was tossed across the couch in the way that only happens when it’s frequently used. The scent in the air—slightly floral with a hint of something simmering—hinted at a life quietly unfolding within these walls.
The cameras began to roll again for a follow-up segment of the show. As the staff bustled to adjust lighting and angles, a quiet moment was inadvertently captured. Hee-chul leaned in toward someone whose back was turned to the camera—her features hidden by the angle but her presence unmistakable. His posture was fond, his head tilting, a soft kiss placed with familiarity on her temple.
Someone behind the camera gasped. The moment was real—unrehearsed and warm. “Was that…?!”
As the camera angles shifted during setup, Hee-chul walked off-screen toward the hallway. A soft giggle echoed. He responded, voice dripping with playful affection, “Yah, are you hiding from the camera again? You know they’re going to figure it out.”
A rustle followed. A pause.
A whisper floated in: “You promised no close-ups.”
And then the faintest, swiftest sound—a kiss. One of love. Not for the cameras. But it was there, caught like a breeze in passing.
The camera crew chuckled, someone muttering, “They’re just too cute…”
In the kitchen, she moved with practiced ease, wearing a soft sweater and apron, sleeves pushed to her forearms. Steam danced from the pan she stirred, and scents of sesame oil, garlic, and seaweed filled the space. Hee-chul snuck out of frame once again, wrapped his arms around her from behind, and pressed a kiss to her lips.
“They asked me for home-cooked meals…” he said teasingly, grinning against her hair. “…I didn’t say I’d be the one cooking.”
She laughed—a sound like wind chimes—and playfully smacekd him in the chest. They plated the food together, side-by-side, their rhythm like a duet. Hee-chul brought out the food to the living room. And she handed out freshly made kimbap for the crew, her face blurred gently in post-production for privacy. Yet the warmth was unmistakable.
Later in the shoot, laughter echoed through the house. The guests had picked up on the clues—decor that didn’t scream bachelor, the smiles exchanged off-camera, the familiarity. The PD raised a brow.
“Hee-chul… are you going to keep pretending? Or…?”
Hee-chul looked bashful for a moment, then simply raised his hand and wiggled his fingers. On his ring finger shone a simple, elegant band. He smiled—not the amused smirk fans knew, but a soft, proud smile.
“I’m married,” he said plainly.
Cheers erupted, teasing followed—“We've been waiting for this!” “Finally!”—and in the background, a tiny shuffle of feet was heard.
Soft footsteps padded across the wooden floor.
A little boy appeared in frame, wearing a onesie patterned with cartoon puppies. A blanket clutched in his hands, his tiny hair tousled, he blinked at the bright lights of the set. Stretching sleep out of his eyes, he looked around, and then spotted his father.
“Appa…” he said, rubbing one eye.
Silence fell for a second, then everyone collectively melted.
Hee-chul scooped him up with ease, nuzzled his face into the toddler’s hair. “Did we wake you, baby?” he asked gently, the cameras capturing nothing but pure tenderness.
The child nodded sleepily and tucked his head into Hee-chul’s shoulder. Then Y/N came into the frame briefly to hand their child a small snack cup, her movements calm and loving.
The filming wrapped with laughter and warmth. The crew thanked them, the guests waved, and Hee-chul carried his sleepy little one down the hallway. The last camera shot was of Hee-chul walking backward, facing the lens.
“Thank you for coming,” he said brightly, waving.
Then he gently closed the door.
And just before the audio cut off, the microphone picked up the softest kiss sound.
He’s surprisingly protective of you, and so Heechul quite likes to be able to at least wrap his arm around you, especially when you’re around lots of people, Heechul will never be afraid to stick you into his side nicely.
B ⇴ BOYS
You got on incredibly well with the boys almost from day one, which meant a lot to Heechul. Getting their seal of approval on you was a huge dealbreaker for Heechul, with the boys telling him almost from the very start that he shouldn’t let you go, knowing that he’d struggle to find anyone better for him than you.
C ⇴ COMFORT
Whenever you needed comforting, Heechul forgot about everything else and made sure to be there for you. It didn’t matter how busy he was, or even if he wasn’t at home with you and on the phone, he’d be there. Heechul was great at comforting you, even if he admittedly did get nervous whenever he saw that you had a problem.
D ⇴ DOMESTICATED
He was great at splitting domestic jobs with you, doing the jobs that you didn’t like, and you doing the ones that he didn’t like it. That applied especially to the cleaning of the apartment, Jeongsu tended to be the one to take control of it, even if you tried to help clean something up, Heechul would quite often follow behind you to make sure that you were doing it right, and also do it again if you didn’t do it right.
E ⇴ ENGAGEMENT
There was a huge excitement in him to be able to tell your families that the two of you were engaged, with so many people asking for so long when Heechul was going to settle down, he was beyond excited to start telling people that it was happening. His parents especially were the people that Heechul was looking forward to telling, knowing how for so long it had been the one thing they’d been pushing him to do.
F ⇴ FAVOURITE THING
Heechul’s favourite thing about being with you is how well you understand him. He knows he’s busy, he knows that he doesn’t always have the time for you, but you get it, appreciating that Heechul is a wanted man in the industry. You never make him feel bad for doing extra work, instead you offer to accompany him and make sure that you sort him out with enough to eat and drink whenever he’s at work too.
G ⇴ GOING OUT
Quite often when Heechul has the chance to spend some time with you, he likes to spend it in the comfort of your own home. Rather than go out, he enjoys just being in, either playing a game or watching a drama, anything that required minimal effort but also means that he can spend some time with you.
H ⇴ HONEYMOON
Because Heechul was so busy, you ended up not having a honeymoon as such, but instead a few small trips just outside of the city. Neither of you were massive on flying out for a huge holiday anyway, you were used to a busy life, instead you fancied a couple of days of quiet in the comfort of home too.
I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU”
Although Heechul didn’t necessarily tell you that he loved you too often, when he did tell you, he made sure that you were aware just how much he meant it. He wasn’t someone that could just say it flippantly, instead he’d say it when he felt that the moment was right, and when you’d know that he was being sincere too.
J ⇴ JEALOUSY
His jealousy wasn’t necessarily aimed at other guys, but instead at your friends and sometimes your family too who were able to spend much more time with you. Heechul wished that he could be there quite a lot of the time when he knew that you were spending time at an event or a party with your friends, hating knowing that you were having to go alone and explain to others why Heechul wasn’t there with you.
K ⇴ KIDS
The biggest pressure that the two of you felt after you got married was starting your family. His mum was onto him almost straight away wondering when you were going to give her another grandchild, reminding Heechul that he wasn’t getting any younger, with time not always being on his side to settle down too.
L ⇴ LAZY DAYS
You never really had a lazy day with Heechul, there was usually someone that ended up wanting him even on his days off. Having so many contacts, you would be disturbed at least once or twice by one of his friends who wanted to know if Heechul wanted to get food or a drink. Luckily for you though, he would always decline, keen to try and spend as much of his day as possible with you, even if work ended up calling.
M ⇴ MORNINGS
He hated getting up in the mornings, especially when it was early, and so quite often Heechul would wake you up to get up with him so that he had some company. Whilst he tried to get sorted, you tended to take care of Gibok, worrying about getting yourself ready for the day once Heechul was out of the house.
N ⇴ NIGHTS
Your nights were often spent gaming and getting far too competitive against one another. The two of you were loud, often bordering on disturbances in your neighbours’ opinions because you got so competitive.
O ⇴ OBSESSION
Heechul was obsessed with your personality, for so long he never imagined himself finding the right person, and then came you. You seemed to tick so many boxes for him, so many more than he ever thought he could find.
P ⇴ PRECIOUS MOMENTS
The moments at home, with you and with Gibok meant the most to Heechul. He loved being in the comfort of home, doing nothing and surrounding himself with the person, and animal, who meant the most to him. They were rare moments, which was why Heechul never failed to make the most of all of them.
Q ⇴ QUESTIONS
Whenever the two of you arrived home together, you would always ask the other how their day was. You made time for each other, always, no matter how busy your days had been, caring about the others too.
R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS
There was only one person that Heechul wanted as his best man when he got married, and that was Gibok. Despite having the rest of the boys as his groomsmen, Heechul couldn’t pick his star man, and so in the end he decided that his best man would have four legs instead of two, wanting GIbok right by his side.
S ⇴ SILENCE
You were quite used to silence around the apartment, with Heechul out so often shooting. There was always a relief that hit you whenever the silence was broken, knowing that he was home. Straight away, you would be up on your feet to greet him, keen to be able to have some conversation yet again.
T ⇴ TIPS & TRICKS
Heechul’s biggest trick for making your marriage work was making effort, even he was tired. Especially if he’d been hectic at work, Heechul made sure to be there for you and give you some of his attention at least.
U ⇴ UPSET
Nothing else mattered when you were upset, you were Heechul’s only priority until he got to see the smile on your face again.
V ⇴ VISITS
You often stopped by when you knew Heechul was shooting close to your home when you took GIbok out for a walk so that you could give him a couple of familiar faces and a bit of a boost to carry on working hard too.
W ⇴ WISH LIST
There was nothing else that Heechul felt that he needed to wish for, the last thing that he wanted to do was push his luck too far.
X ⇴ XXXX
Whenever he’s cuddled up to you, it’s instinct for Heechul to kiss you too. He loves being as affectionate around you as possible, barely giving you any space, not that you ever complain about that at all.
Y ⇴ YOU
You were his rock, knowing that he had your support meant the absolute world to Heechul.
Z ⇴ ZZZ
Most evenings you end up sharing Heechul, Gibok is never too far away at night, making sure that you know your place when it comes to being able to cuddle up to Heechul for a little bit of warmth at night.
A/N: For a lovely anon. I am very grateful that you have requested again and hope you like this story too. Reader is not Korean, but other than that I’ve left it vague
Living in Korea so far from your family was hard for you at times, and Heechul tried his best to be understanding of this. It was difficult, however, when the two people you spoke about most were male. He knew it was stupid to be jealous of these guys he had never met but when you mentioned they would be there when you finally took him to meet your family, he couldn't help but feel a little uncomfortable about it.
He didn't voice any of this too you though, as he could see how excited you were about going home, and even more so that you got to take your boyfriend with you.
When you arrived your parents greeted you at the door, you gave them each a tight hug, before introducing Heechul to them. As your father took the bags up to your room, which they kept for anytime you came back to visit, you turned to your mother.
"Where are my boys?" you asked, jumping on the spot with excitement.
"In the living room," she told you with a smile.
You quickly pulled the door open, only to be attacked with love and affection from your two family dogs. Kneeling down in front of them you made a fuss as they proceeded to lick any part of you they could.
Heechul couldn't help but chuckle, as he realised that all this time, you hadn't been talking about human friends, but your dogs.
"I think those two are the only reason she comes home," your mum told Heechul. "Honestly, I think she loves the dogs more than us."
"I think she loves the dogs more than me, too," he agreed, trying his best to keep up with your native language which you had been slowly teaching him.
"If we're on a video call with her, the first thing she's asks is if she can see her boys," your mum continued to call you out.
"I can hear you, you know?" you scolded, before standing and returning to your boyfriends side.
"She's only telling me what I already know, they are all you talk about," Heechul pointed out, falling back into Korean when addressing you.
"I'm starting to think this language barrier is going to be a good thing," you told him. "Otherwise, you two are just going to try and embarrass me."
"Only because we love you," he laughed, kissing you sweetly on the cheek.
"Even when I can't understand you, I can see how good you are together," your mum commented. "Go and make yourselves comfortable, and I'll get some drinks and snacks together."
You led Heechul to the living room settling down on the sofa and finally formally introduced him to your dogs.
Genre: high school au; i’m a believer in fluffy endings, but there are some kind of deep issues explored in this work. namely, beauty standards.
Word Count: 10k (this is actually my longest drabble!)
Tracklist: “Lost In Your Eyes” by Debbie Gibson & “I Think We’re Alone Now” by Tiffany (bc your girl is 80s pop trash)
Note: y’all why do I have no self control when it comes to Heechul? this was literally just supposed to be a short piece based on a dream I had & it became a novella lol. honestly, I could have kept writing this forever & I could definitely be convinced to revisit this story’s universe!
fyi: to explore the themes of this story, the reader character is of Korean and Hispanic heritage.
You almost made it through high school without attracting a single boy. While you didn’t rejoice in that fact, you certainly weren’t losing sleep because the high school boys didn’t fawn over your naturally curly hair and eternally bronzed skin. Long ago, you had accepted that you did not fit their standard of beauty; you never would.
“There are far more important things than boys,” your father said often— whenever he found time to look up from the books that detailed the financial records of the Korean-Mexican restaurant he operated with your mother.
You believed him just as much as you believed your mother when she patted your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your cheek, saying, “You’re beautiful, baby.”
And yet, when your father hired him to work as a host and server so you could focus on studying for the upcoming graduation exams, you wondered if he would look at you if you resembled the girl on the cover of the magazine you read while stuffing your mouth full of rice.
His name was Heechul— or so you gathered from your father’s praises of his salesmanship and the excited chatter of girls who visited the restaurant, clad in tiny shorts and bikini tops, just to get a look at him.
“Come on now, ladies.” He would wink at the girls when they delayed in placing an order as long as possible in an effort to admire him for as long as possible without having to pay for food they didn’t care to eat. “You’ll order something, won’t you? Every penny you spend here goes toward my dream of buying a new motorcycle. Maybe if you help me enough, I’ll take you for a ride.”
Heechul’s dream changed every day. Sometimes, he dreamed of buying a new motorcycle, sometimes a new car, sometimes a new guitar or a new drum set (that he would use to write a song especially for whoever bought the most food). The girls never noticed that he never held a dream for long; they were all too happy to be a part of his fantasy of the day.
You couldn’t blame them for leaning into his every word. Aside from the fact that he was beautiful— his sleek shoulder-length black hair often falling from its ponytail to frame his face— Heechul crafted his sentences carefully. They probably didn’t recognize his wit. How could they even notice it when they were lost in his eyes or enchanted by his smile?
You could appreciate Heechul’s cleverness at first, though, because you only heard his punchlines while reviewing a practice test or while penning your answers to a magazine quiz to learn which K-Pop idol would totally fall for you. Heechul didn’t look at you, so you couldn’t get lost in his eyes. He didn’t smile at you, and yet you were very much enchanted by him long before he sat in the seat across from you in the corner booth.
“Hey.” His eyes met yours over the top of the magazine. Tapping his index finger against the cover, he asked, “Is this nonsense really more important than your studies, Y/N?”
Burning with the question, “How does he know my name?” you dropped the magazine onto the table and closed it over your open textbooks. Heechul pointed again to the neon decal advertising, “Want porcelain skin like your crush’s ideal type? Try these 5 tricks!”
“No.” You shook your head. “That’s not important to me at all. I was reading about this.” With your pink highlighter, you circled the text: “How to tell him you’re not interested.”
Heechul’s face flushed pink when he met your gaze, and once he recognized the teasing smile spreading across your face, he laughed. That high pitched scream of a laugh didn’t seem like it should have come from such a delicately pretty face, but it did; it turned heads, and the stares deepened your own laughter.
“Careful there,” he warned, expression suddenly grave. “You almost had me convinced that you weren’t interested in my attention.”
When you shrugged, feigning disinterest, and dropped your gaze back to the magazine as you flipped through its pages, Heechul yelped, “Hey! If you’re going to neglect your studies, at least pay attention to me!”
He snatched your magazine and fanned himself with it so the hair that escaped his ponytail blew in the breeze. He smirked at your glare— apparently of the belief that all attention is good attention— and you realized that Heechul wasn’t talking to you because of any genuine interest. He just couldn’t live knowing that he hadn’t stared into the eyes of every girl who entered the restaurant.
You had been content with being just another girl who admired Heechul, but you didn’t want to be another girl who inflated his ego. You didn’t want to be another girl who felt special just because he glanced your way.
Frowning at the realization that you couldn’t like him anymore— and you really enjoyed having such a harmless crush before he ruined it— you asked, “Shouldn’t you be working?”
Heechul retorted, “Shouldn’t you be studying?”
Hoping to drive him away by refusing him any attention you agreed, “You’re right,” before grabbing a pencil and reading through the instructions of the next practice test.
Heechul groaned at the lack of admiration and jumped out of the booth. “Right. So you don’t get distracted again, young lady—” he couldn’t have been more than a year or two older, so you rolled your eyes at his condescending language— “I’ll be confiscating this.” He flashed his glittering teeth when you watched him tauntingly lift the magazine higher and higher out of your reach.
“Give that back, Heechul!” You hissed as you stood in your seat to reach for the magazine. It hadn’t cost much, and you weren’t all that interested in it, but that wasn’t the point.
Who was he to make you feel small— first figuratively with his games and then literally by holding your property over your head? He couldn’t get away with being annoying just because he was gorgeous.
Except he could. His behavior had probably been excused every day of his life on account of his appearance. And he probably never paused to consider how his actions— how flaunting his good looks— impacted others.
“Oh, so you do know my name!” Heechul jumped as you tried to grab at the magazine. “It actually sounds better than usual when you say it. Do it again!”
Your fingers caught the cover, but Heechul wouldn’t loosen his grip around the pages, so when you pulled, the staples binding the magazine together snapped. Brightly colored pages depicting celebrities’s faces, detailing fashion advice, and instructing teen girls in the art of appealing to boys scattered across the recently mopped floor. They were ruined.
Heechul’s wide, guilty eyes met yours briefly before he set to gathering each page while muttering, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
You would have accepted his apology if you weren’t crumbling under the stares of the customers, many of whom were young women who hated you for holding Heechul’s attention for a moment when you were clearly so unworthy— so unappreciative. Too embarrassed to speak, you slumped into your seat, crossed your arms over the table, and buried your face in the bend of your elbow.
“I’m sorry,” Heechul repeated. Had you looked up, you would have seen how delicately he placed the poorly stacked pages on the table’s corner. You would have seen how he leaned forward, his face almost level with yours, to implore you to look at him so all could be forgiven.
You didn’t look, though, because you didn’t want him to see your face scorched by a crimson blush. “Just throw the pages away, please.”
“Are you sure?”
You doubted whether he could see that you nodded into your elbow, but when you looked up minutes later (after the waves of embarrassment subsided) the remnants of the magazine were gone along with every trace of Heechul.
Of course, you hadn’t been foolish enough to think that you wouldn’t see Heechul again just because he had taken care to avoid your table for the rest of his shift. You knew that it was likely just a matter of time until he spoke to you again, but you hadn’t expected his next correspondence to come so soon through a note that you found on your table.
After tossing your backpack into the booth, you read what he scrawled onto a sticky note likely grabbed from the host’s booth: “Sorry I ripped your magazine. Here’s a new one. And here’s my number if you want to call/text to cuss me out.” Carefully, you peeled the note off of the magazine and saw that Heechul used a red marker to circle a featured article titled “Five Ways To Say Sorry.”
It was silly: the fact that he had gone so far to apologize for ruining a cheap magazine filled with superficial thoughts you were supposed to hate and the fact that your heart raced just from reading his handwriting.
Unsure of how to reply to your cousin, you tossed your phone down on the table, rubbed the fatigue out of our eyes, and resumed your work. Sometimes, you thought, studying was less stressful than talking to AJ.
You didn’t think anything about leaving your phone unlocked, screen facing upward, until Heechul settled into the seat across from you and declared, “I see my name!”
Your eyes flicked up to find him scrolling through the texts. When you reached for the phone, knots tying in your stomach as you wondered how much of your cousin’s insanity he had read and taken as truth, he held the phone out of your reach.
“Apparently—” your face burned as you dared to look into his eyes— “you don’t learn from your mistakes. Does this scene look familiar to you at all?”
“I apologized!” Heechul reminded, and he probably would have clung to your phone longer if your father hadn’t appeared at your side.
Clearing his throat, your father asked, “What is going on here?” His stern gaze wandered between you and Heechul.
While you sank because disappointing your father was your deepest fear, Heechul responded promptly. Setting the phone down on the table, Heechul said, “I just came to check on Y/N’s progress. You know, I thought I could offer her some tips because I took the graduation exams just a couple of years ago, but I was never half as smart as she is.”
When Heechul glanced into your eyes, which were narrowed, confused by the sudden flattery, he smiled. “I guess I’m not much of a tutor, then.”
Mouth pressed into a thin line as a wrinkle darkened between his eyebrows, your father suggested, “I suppose that means you should get back to work, then.” It wasn’t a suggestion so much as an order.
Heechul’s smile faltered. Your heart sank at the thought, and you realized that your heart had been swelling with the growth of his smile. You had been leaning across the table, subconsciously willing yourself closer to him. You were just like everybody else: enchanted by Heechul’s smile.
Chewing on his lips as if embarrassed by your father’s reprimand, Heechul nodded. He tucked stray strands of hair behind his ears. “Yes, sir.” He dropped your phone— now locked, as evidenced by the darkened screen— atop your book and encouraged, “Keep up the good work,” before setting off to help your mother carry a tray piled high with enchiladas.
Your father then patted your shoulder and, after praising your hard work, reminded, “There are more important things than boys.” The twitch that moved his eyebrow when his icy eyes fell on Heechul from across the room was in stark contrast with his past boasts about the young college student who nearly doubled profits with his charisma.
Had your father mistaken Heechul’s interest in you too?
He wouldn’t walk away until you promised, “I know,” and proved your belief by fixing your stare on the math practice sheet when you really just wanted to watch Heechul laugh with your mother.
Once satisfied that your father wasn’t watching— he was too busy talking to a longtime customer— you unlocked your phone to see that Heechul had sent a text.
Despite your cousin’s professed interest in visiting, you didn’t expect to look up from your studies to find her sitting across from you, smiling broadly as she twisted one of her long blonde curls.
“AJ!” You would have smiled if your jaw hadn’t gone slack from the surprise. “What are you doing here?”
“Okay, so here’s the official answer.” She tapped her French manicured nails on the shine black tabletop as her peach colored lips pulled more tightly into a bright grin. “It’s my spring break, and your mom paid for me to fly out here as a part of your birthday present!”
Your birthday? Surely you hadn’t forgotten.
When you scrambled through strewn papers to find your phone, you blinked at the date. It was your birthday— the one day of the year that was yours— and you hadn’t even realized until after wasting half of it studying in the corner booth of your parents’ restaurant.
“But unofficially,” AJ divulged, “I’m here on my quest for a baby daddy.”
At that moment, Heechul decided to appear at the table. Wearing his apron and name tag, hair tied back as he held the pen in one hand and notepad in the other, he looked like a model employee except for the devilish smirk twisting the corner of his mouth when he asked, “Who needs a baby daddy?”
Your face flushed crimson, and he laughed when you mumbled, “Damn it, Heechul, why did you have to show up right this second?” Since he called you beautiful, you hadn’t been able to look at him without blushing; this topic deepened your embarrassment.
Placing both hands on his hips and tilting his head at AJ, he asked, “How much will you pay me— to be your baby daddy?”
Anyone else in the world would have melted at his wink, but AJ didn’t crack the smallest smile. She didn’t flatter him with the faintest blush. She only shook her head. “Sorry, sir—”
Heechul glared when you giggled at the word ‘sir,’ but he ultimately broke into his own laughter until AJ concluded, “But you don’t have the assets I’m looking for in a baby daddy.”
As if you had been the one to offend him, Heechul gasped and looked to you for an explanation as he clutched his notepad over his chest. Rolling your eyes at his theatrics and AJ’s ideal type, you started, “She’s into buff—”
“I’ve heard enough!” Heechul decided, waving his hand dismissively as it fell from its place over his heart. “I didn’t come here to get insulted! I came to look at a beautiful girl—” He blew a kiss at you and delighted when you fixed your flustered gaze away from him— “and to take your drink order,” he said to AJ.
“That won’t be necessary.” AJ laughed at your embarrassment with Heechul. “I was just about to drag Y/N off to the beach if you wanna tag along. Maybe we can talk her into wearing a bikini!”
Heechul’s eyes widened at AJ’s proposition, and you wondered, glaring at her, “How are you going to talk me into wearing something I don’t own?”
“We can go shopping!” AJ suggested enthusiastically. “I saw a cute little boutique on my walk over here! Let’s just swing by on our way to the beach!” Then, as if a lack of funds was the cause of your reluctance, she offered, “I’ll buy the bikini— just consider it a birthday gift from me to you!”
Heechul asked, “It’s your birthday?” and he frowned when you nodded. “Damn! Now I feel really terrible about turning you ladies down. I’m on the clock, ya know?” He gestured sadly to his work attire.
Noting how your shoulders slumped, weighted by disappointment, AJ tried to make you laugh by joking, “Damn! Now how are we gonna assess your tiddie situation, Heechul?”
Again, as if you had spoken, Heechul scoffed at you. “Wow! I didn’t know you could be so bold!” He caught his tongue with his teeth as he smirked, his dimples deepening. “If you wanted me to take my shirt off, all you had to do was ask.”
Winking, Heechul set his pen and notepad on the table, reached around his back to untie his apron, and he might have reached for the hem of his shirt (as AJ slapped her hands on the table, roaring with laughter, while you concealed your burning face with your hands, peeking at him through your fingers) had your mother not approached the table.
“Oh, hi, ma’am.” Heechul bowed and donned a smile so sweet it made your teeth hurt. He waved both hands, and your mom mirrored the gesture.
“Hi, Heechul! And hey, AJ— I’m glad to see you made it here safely!” Your mom’s forever smiling eyes landed on you as she asked AJ, “You’re still walking down to the beach with Y/N, right?”
“Yeah, if I can convince her to walk away from her work for just a few hours!” AJ huffed in exaggerated frustration because she knew that would appeal to your mom, who feared that you didn’t spend enough time doing ‘normal teenager things.’
You mom told you, “You can take a break at least for today.”
Before you could argue that you weren’t reluctant to leave your work— you were just uncomfortable about having to wear a bikini— your mother set to closing your books and stacking your papers. “You can take the day off too, Heechul, so you can look after these girls. Make sure to have them back at the restaurant by 7 to have cake; you can stay for that, if you want.”
The beach was less than a mile away from the restaurant, and you had never been in trouble a day in your life, so there was no rational reason for mom to send Heechul to escort you and AJ. Still, you didn’t point that out when Heechul nodded, promising, “I’ll keep them out of trouble, ma’am!”
Nobody could have kept AJ out of trouble, though. As soon as the three of you entered the boutique across the street from the restaurant, she abandoned you and Heechul to strike up a conversation with the boy running the cash register.
While you rolled your eyes at her nerve, Heechul grabbed you by the hand and pulled you to the rack of bathing suits. “Guess that leaves us to shop alone.” He didn’t seem at all affected by AJ’s misplaced priorities.
Heechul usually laughed at your blush, but his gaze softened when he noticed that you were staring down at your sandals. “Hey.” He nudged you until you looked up at him, and he smiled— a small closed mouth grin that wasn’t supposed to make your heart thunder— as he released your hand.
“You don’t have to wear anything you don’t want to wear. See— here’s a modest one.” He plucked from the rack a striped black long sleeved bathing suit top matched with black shorts and held it out for your approval.
You shook your head, and when Heechul looked at you with gathered eyebrows, you explained, “Horizontal stripes aren’t flattering on me.”
“What—” His tone was harsh until he remembered that he was trying to make your birthday happy. Swallowing his annoyance, Heechul forced a grin, returned the striped bathing suit, and reached for another. This one was a ruffled cotton-candy-pink one piece.
“Ruffles exaggerate my curves.” You frowned as you picked at your nail beds.
Heechul groaned, “Y/N, curves are good—” and he bit his tongue only when you cut your eyes at him, cheeks reddening. “Fine.” He slammed the hanger back on the rack and asked, “Where do you get all this stuff, anyway? Is it from those magazines—”
“It’s fashion advice,” you maintained, but Heechul continued to argue.
“I don’t think it’s good for you to read things that tell you ‘You look bad in this, this, and that.’”
Had the shop been busier, you might have been embarrassed by his volume. Maybe then, you still would have been too flattered by his rage on your behalf to care who overheard.
Calmly, you explained, “They don’t just tell me what I look bad in. They also say what’s flattering for my body type.”
Heechul rolled his eyes as he humored you by asking, “Well, what do the magazines say flatters you?”
You pointed to the polka dotted red one piece. Heechul grabbed it and ushered you into the dressing room in the back of the store. In another attempt to make you laugh, the tried to walk into the dressing room with you.
He laughed— that high pitched cackle that drew everyone’s attention— as you snatched the bathing suit from his hands and pushed him out of the room, chuckling, “Nice try, Heechul.”
Even after all his skepticism toward magazine advice, Heechul frowned when you walked out of the dressing room without modeling the bathing suit.
“Patience, Heechul,” you urged as you rose to your tiptoes to pull the elastic that held his hair back. You had never seen him with his hair down before; he looked more beautiful this way. “You’ll see it at the beach.”
He grumbled, “Whatever,” while raking his fingers through his hair. He smiled only when you absentmindedly slid his hair tie onto your wrist before skipping to meet AJ at the register.
“Cute,” AJ cooed when you dropped the bathing suit onto the counter. “Very 1950s chic! Your almost-boyfriend has great taste!” You shoved her as she turned to wiggle her eyebrows and wave at Heechul.
Heechul’s frown returned when AJ whipped her wallet out to purchase your bathing suit.
“Hey!” His eyes spat fire. “I wanted to buy that!” Stepping by your side, he had also pulled his wallet from his work pants’ front pocket. He wore an indignant expression that clearly meant, “And I have every right to buy it! I helped her pick it out while you were sidetracked by your baby daddy quest!”
AJ mimicked his face, going so far as to stick her tongue out at him while adopting his whining tone. “Too bad! This was my idea first, so you’ll have to think of some other present for Y/N!”
While the cashier watched their exchange with raised eyebrows, you offered him an apologetic smile and tugged anxiously at one of your twin braids. “Guys, I’ll just buy it myself—”
“No!” Heechul and AJ shouted in unison, causing you and the cashier to jump and raise your hands in surrender.
Shoving his wallet back into his pocket, Heechul grumbled, “It was AJ’s idea first, so whatever.”
AJ stood triumphantly, beaming as she counted the money likely given to her by your Mom, and Heechul stood over by the door. He crossed his arms over his chest, lips pressed out into a pout.
You couldn’t explain that his presence alone was a gift without sounding like a lovesick fool, so you smiled as you walked to his side and said, “We’ll need towels and sunscreen and stuff, right?”
Heechul blinked until he understood that you were offering him another way to financially contribute to the beach trip since, obviously, that was so important to him. He grabbed you around the shoulders and grinned as he instructed, “Wait here.”
. . .
“What was the point of buying a bathing suit,” AJ asked as she plopped onto the checkered blanket with you and Heechul, “if you’re just gonna sit here the whole time?”
You tossed a towel at her, kicking with your bare feet to drive her off of the corner of the blanket she was soaking with ocean water. “Why did you drag me to the beach for my birthday if you’re just gonna flirt with every guy on the beach?”
The red patches that rose over AJ’s cheeks were either the beginning stages of a sunburn or her first blush. “Well, forgive me for not wanting to interrupt you and Heechul.”
At his name, Heechul propped himself up on his elbows and lowered his sunglasses to cock an eyebrow at AJ. “Excuse me? We aren’t doing anything. I am being a remarkably well behaved boy.”
“Right,” AJ said skeptically before rising to her feet and dropping the towel onto the blanket. “Well, I’m gonna go get ice cream. Might swim some more. I’m not sure yet. But you won’t see me again ’til it’s time to walk back to the restaurant.”
You thought AJ was mad at you until she winked before prancing away.
So that’s why she had been elusive all day: she didn’t want to be the third wheel. In her mind, this was a date that she had coordinated with your mom’s help.
Heechul rolled onto his side. “You can go swimming if you want.” Lying like that, with one hand supporting his head and the other resting on his hip, clad only in his black slacks, you couldn’t bear to look at him. You fixed your gaze on the not-too-distant shoreline as he said, “I wouldn’t mind. It’s your birthday, and your cousin is visiting from across the world, so do what’s fun to you.”
It occurred to you that there was an imbalance between you and Heechul. While you had vaguely admitted your attraction to him as some kind of crush similar to one every girl developed when looking at him, he had been open about liking you. Liking someone is different from having a crush. Liking someone is different from thinking they’re pretty.
The thing was, you did like Heechul. You couldn’t exactly explain why or when it started, but you figured you must have tripped some time during your first conversation. You must have fallen without realizing it until you looked up at him from your place on the ground.
You hadn’t ever liked somebody before, so you didn’t know how these things worked. You didn’t know what marked the distinction between crush and love, but you knew that you liked Heechul, and you didn’t want to swim because he couldn't walk into the water wearing his work uniform.
You knew, “I am having fun,” so you told him.
Heechul didn’t tease you. He simply lowered his sunglasses again to look at you without the barrier— to check your expression for any signs of uncertainty or deceit. He handed the glasses to you, explaining, “You’re squinting. Here.”
As you slid them onto your face, he crawled in front of you, sat with his back to you, and asked, “Do you know how to braid hair?”
“Yeah,” you answered, “but I don’t have a hair tie.”
He advised, “Check your wrist,” and you saw that you were wearing one.
Unable to remember where it came from or how Heechul noticed it, you set to combing through his hair with your fingers. “Do you want, like, a French braid, or—”
“I don’t care.” Always a little too honest to believe, Heechul explained, “I just want you to touch me, okay? And not in, like, a pervy way, so stop blushing.”
It wasn’t so impressive that Heechul knew that you were blushing without watching your face burn; you were almost always turning red while talking to him.
“Okay,” you agreed, playing with his hair without pausing for even a moment. Your movements didn’t falter until Heechul leaned back so that his back was flush with your chest.
“What are you doing?” He whirled around when you pushed him away. His voice had been grating— irritated— until he noticed that the color had drained from your face. “Are you okay? Did I hurt you or—”
Shaking your head, you explained, “My heart is racing. I didn’t want you to feel—”
Heechul gently grabbed your wrist and held your palm flat over his chest— bare and warm from the sun’s rays— so that you could feel it too: the rapid booming of his heart. Somehow, that made it okay. Somehow that made it right: the fact that he felt this way too.
Once you nodded, Heechul returned to his position with his back against your chest. When you said, “I can’t braid your hair when you’re this close,” he repeated, “I don’t care,” and he reached for his phone.
So he really did just want to be close to you.
You sat there for a few minutes, gaze shifting from the clouds overhead to the shoreline to the children building sandcastles to the couples sitting on blankets in positions to yours and Heechul’s. You sat there for a few minutes, stiff and unsure of what you should do, unsure of what you were expected to do, uncomfortably aware of what you wanted to do.
Finally, you gave in to your desires. You wrapped your arms around Heechul’s waist and hid your burning face in the scalding crook of his neck as you awaited his reaction.
He gasped at the unexpected affection and dropped his phone. His hair tickled your nose and lips while he asked, “What are you doing?” For once, he was the surprised one. He was the breathless one.
You replied, “I just want to touch you, okay? And not in a pervy way, so stop blushing.”
“Me?” His voice cracked as his arms grazed over yours. “I don’t blush.”
Hoping to call his bluff, you tried to raise your head, but he held you where you were, saying, “Don’t move. I want to stay like this for a while.”
“But Heechul,” you whined against his skin, “how am I supposed to kiss you from here?”
“Yah!” Heechul jumped out of your embrace and rounded on you again. He leaned forward on his knees, hands pressed down on the blanket on either side of your body, face just inches from yours. He couldn’t truthfully deny that his face was scarlet when he asked, “What’s gotten into you? Your cousin shows up, and suddenly you’re a shameless flirt?”
“Don’t blame AJ.” Somehow emboldened by Heechul’s blush, you accused, “It’s your fault that I’m acting like this.”
“My fault?” His jaw dropped, and he shook his head.
You nodded. “Yeah! You’re a terrible influence!”
“I resent that.” His growing smile suggested otherwise. His blush faded as he adapted to the situation; if you wanted to remain dominant, you would have to take action quickly.
“Besides, Heechul—” you teasingly lowered the sunglasses he gave you so he could see your wink— “hasn’t anybody ever told you that you’re irresistible?”
It was quick— almost too quick for you to appreciate the cherry flavor of his barely chapped lips against yours— over in the blink of an eye, but you would never forget that first dizzying kiss.
“Ah, damn it.” Heechul huffed when he backed away from you. His hair fell over his face, and he didn’t bother to move it (probably) because it acted as a curtain between his blush and your wide, curious eyes. “I’m supposed to prove myself worthy by waiting for you, and then I got all impatient like an idiot.”
At first, you thought that he was throwing a theatrical fit to lighten the mood— maybe he thought you were overwhelmed by the kiss— but then his shoulders slumped. He didn’t meet your eyes because he was focused on his balled fists.
You tried to comfort him by acknowledging, “I went out of my way to tempt you,” but that only seemed to make matters worse.
“That’s no excuse. You clearly said that you don’t want to date, and—”
“I’m sorry,” you interrupted, annoyed by his efforts to dampen the moment, “but I didn’t know that sharing one sweet kiss means we have to get married next week.”
Heechul blinked and opened his mouth like he wanted to argue, but then he broke into a bashful grin. “Oh. Yeah, maybe I’m overthinking things.” When he moved to sit by your side, he was careful not to brush his hand against yours; evidently, he wasn’t done overthinking.
A part of you— the part that forced your lips into a heavy frown— wondered how long things would be like this. How long would he, who never hesitated before, fear crossing the boundary you had drawn before trust was (somehow) established?
A part of you— the part that compelled you to toss the sunglasses into the beach tote so you could look at him without the slightest obstruction to your vision— said, “You’re a really nice person.” Then, that part of you said, “You’re a beautiful person, Heechul.”
“Why are you saying that?” He looked at you with an apprehension you recognize from the times you caught your reflection at school. He didn’t believe you. “You can’t say something like that just because I kissed you—”
“I’m not,” you argued, voice sharp as a blade although your heart was flooded with burning compassion. “I’m not trying to— I’m saying that you’re beautiful because you’re not going to kiss me again.”
Heechul sighed. “I don’t understand. I don’t know why you’re confusing me like this, but—”
“It’s beautiful that you care so much about waiting for me. It’s beautiful that you’re not pressuring me to just hurry up and date you just because the feelings are there.”
“That’s not beautiful,” Heechul murmured, smoothing the patch of blanket before him. “That’s called not being a total jerk.”
“Well,” you breathed, “I think it’s beautiful that you’re not a total jerk.”
When Heechul swallowed, his eyes still clinging to his mistrust, he seemed to realize that he couldn’t change your mind. Maybe he didn’t want to change your mind. “Okay. I believe that you think I’m beautiful, so I think you should try to believe that I think you’re beautiful.”
You gasped. When would you get used to the fluttering in your chest those words caused? Did you want it to end so that you could breathe more comfortably? Or did you want the feeling to last forever?
“What? What’s wrong?” Heechul finally pushed his hair aside so you could watch his face contort as he complained, “Y/N, you make me a little bit crazy. I know there’s a lot going on in your head, and maybe I wouldn’t get it all, but I— try to trust me a little. Please?”
“It’s not an issue of trust,” you claimed, but maybe it was. “It’s just—” adjusting your denim shorts, you worried aloud, “what if you think I’m weird?”
“Who gives a shit what I think?” Heechul apologized when you winced at his tone. “Well, obviously, you care what I think, huh?” He clicked his tongue. “Don’t worry then. I don’t think being weird is bad. I don’t think anything about you is bad.”
“I was just thinking,” you confessed when he linked his pinky with yours, “that I can’t breathe when you call me beautiful. And then I wondered how long I will feel this way. And then I wondered what’s wrong with me.”
“First of all, there’s nothing wrong with you,” Heechul said matter-of-factly. “It’s okay to be happy when somebody calls you beautiful—”
At the risk of sounding like a fool, you elaborated, “It’s not about being called beautiful. It’s about you calling me beautiful. I don’t want to be one of those girls who only feels special because a boy— even a boy like you— compliments her.”
Heechul frowned and scratched at the back of his neck. “See, I don’t know what to say about that. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you feeling special because— get this— you are. And if I help you realize it, then, well, I don’t see any harm in that.” As if wounded, he asked, “Why can’t I be one of the things that make you happy? I get why I can’t be everything— I don’t want to be everything— but why can’t I be something?”
You shrugged, unsure of how to process his question (much less answer it), and Heechul started guessing, “Because I’m a boy? Because I like you? Because I’ll kiss you every chance I get? That’s not very fair, if you ask me.”
“It’s not because you’re a boy or because you like me or because you want to kiss me,” you admitted in a small voice, gathering your legs so you could rest your chin atop your knees. “It’s because— what do I do when you change your mind?”
Your question knocked the breath out of Heechul. He tried to mask his wheeze with a laugh. “Change my mind about what? Liking you? Falling in love with you? Thinking you’re beautiful?” He looked to you, again, for answers. Again, you shrugged, so he reasoned, “Well, Y/N, I’m not gonna lie or sugar coat things. People change, people grow, and sometimes people leave. I’m not going to promise you forever, and you shouldn’t trust anybody who does.”
Everything he said— you already knew it. Those truths were among the many fears that prevented you from leaping into the unknown with him despite your repressed desires. Hearing them spoken aloud should have stunned you, maybe terrified you, but the words were a comfort.
Heechul understood; Heechul wouldn’t pretend to hold the authority to silence your concerns forever. Perhaps above all, you appreciated his honesty.
“I like you now. I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with you now,” he confessed. You knew he wasn’t speaking for a reaction, as he often did, because he wasn’t even looking at you. “Now is all I can give you.”
“Now,” you wanted to say, “is beautiful,” but you couldn’t find your voice, or you couldn’t find the words.
“But—” he looked at you briefly, stuttered when he found that you had been admiring him, and fixed his gaze up on the sky— “I will always think you’re beautiful. Even if you cut my heart out and stop on it— and I know you would never intentionally hurt me, but come on, that’s one of those things people do— you won’t stop being beautiful. Maybe you don’t know it yet, maybe you never will, but your beauty is one of those few forever things.”
You said, “I don’t believe in forever,” and Heechul breathed an airy sort of laugh that wasn’t born from amusement.
“Well, I guess we have more in common than we thought.” He looked at you, took your hand, and said, “I guess when it ends—” he gasped and amended— “ah, I don’t want to think about that, so let’s say if— if it ends, I’ll be able to look back and know that I loved someone truly beautiful.”
Heechul’s face burned when you said, “I don’t think that’s so important.” Lacing your fingers through his when he tried to pull away, you supposed, “That’s not as important as knowing that you were loved by someone who knows you are truly beautiful.”
Moments passed in silence, with the two of you looking at each other.
“You need to let go,” Heechul whispered, “because if you don’t, I’m going to kiss you again.”
“I’m not going to let you go.”
This time, you crossed the distance and caught his lips with yours. This time, the kiss lasted long enough for you to memorize the feeling of Heechul’s cool breath against your skin, the feeling of his one hand squeezing yours while the other moved to cup your cheek. This time, you knew that you would never catch your breath again, and you didn’t mind.
. . .
“Nice lipstick, Heechul.” AJ smirked on the walk back to the restaurant. “I’m sure Y/N’s parents are really gonna love how it compliments your complexion.”
Heechul smiled even as he reached up to wipe at his lips and cheeks. You blushed, realizing that he hadn’t stopped smiling like that since your second kiss.
AJ squealed, “Ah! He’s so damn happy he got kissed on the beach, he doesn’t care if he gets scolded by the ’rents!”
“The ’rents?” You rolled your eyes at AJ’s vocabulary while straining to remove the red stains from Heechul’s face. “What kind of— Heechul, stop pushing me away!”
“I like my kiss marks!” He shrieked before lifting you off the ground, arms secured around your waist, and peppering your face with light kisses.
“Children!” AJ playfully scolded, cupping her hands around her mouth like a megaphone. “Behave!”
You couldn’t help but laugh as a sharp breeze blew Heechul’s hair against your face. Cursing, he set you back onto your feet and set to combing through his hair. He was too focused on making his hair presentable to distract you from wiping at his face with a towel from the beach bag.
“My dad won’t like them,” you reasoned to his childish pout. “You don’t want him to make us break up so soon, do you?”
“Obviously not,” Heechul grumbled as you fished his red button-down shirt out of the bag.
Tossing the short at him, you ordered, “Put this on, then—”
Smirking, he jested, “That’s not usually how these things go. You’re asking me to put my clothes on?”
“— Nobody is gonna react well if you walk into the restaurant shirtless,” you concluded, gaze stern in response to his perversion.
AJ observed, wiggling her eyebrows at you, “You don’t seem to mind the sight so much,” and Heechul joined her in laughing at your spreading blush.
Their laughter didn’t die until the three of you walked into the restaurant and met with your father’s disappointed scowl behind the host’s podium. “Where have you been?”
Although his gaze was fixed solely on you— your breath gasped past your lips and, in your shame, you dropped the bag onto the floor— AJ answered your father as Heechul knelt to stuff the escaped towels back into the bag. “Auntie said that as long as we were back by 7—”
AJ fell silent as your father eyed her sharply. He turned his attention to Heechul, who stood up straight while holding the bag’s strap. Fearing that your father could somehow see the lipstick stains you had meticulously scrubbed, you shrank.
“Where have you been, Heechul?” Your father asked. “Weren’t you scheduled to work until closing?”
Shifting from one foot to another, Heechul started, “I—”
You would never hear his response. Your mom walked out of the kitchen carrying a birthday cake and smiled as she asked, “So, kids, how was the beach? Heechul, AJ didn’t act up too badly, did she?”
Apparently, it didn’t matter much (or at all) to your father that your mom had given the three of you permission— encouragement— to go to the beach. Pinching at the bridge of his nose, he said flatly, “AJ, I’m used to you being a bad influence—”
Rather than listening to your father’s scolding and crumbling under the weight of his disappointment, AJ rolled her eyes and stormed past you and Heechul, who were frozen stiff, to help your mom set the table.
“— but Heechul, I expect better from you considering your circumstances. You have a lot to prove.”
Heechul’s circumstances?
You glanced at Heechul for some kind of explanation, knowing well that this wasn’t any time to talk, but he had fixed his gaze down at his dull black shoes. The circumstances— whatever they were— must have been dire, judging by the dark maroon that colored Heechul’s entire face.
“And Y/N—” your father’s stern tone faltered when you looked away from Heechul to meet his stare with tear-filled eyes. Quietly, he asked as if he truly couldn’t understand why you would want to do something fun for your birthday, “You were supposed to be studying— don’t you care about your future at all?”
“Alright!” Your mom slammed the plates down on the table, stormed toward the conflict, and you were thankful that the restaurant closed early; at least nobody else would have to witness your humiliation. “Don’t start saying things like that! Your daughter slaves away in that corner booth every day of every week, and I don’t want her to become one of those zombie kids who don’t know how to crack a smile, so I sent her to the beach with AJ and Heechul because she likes them. She deserves to spend time with people she likes—”
It wasn’t often that your mother lost her temper, but it was never a pretty sight. She was so loud, and your father was so distracted by her wagging finger, that they didn’t notice you slip out the door.
Nobody would have seen you lower your head as your threw your back against the building’s rough brick exterior had Heechul not followed you outside wearing an expression of genuine concern.
“Are you okay?” He leaned against the wall too, and reached for your hand that was much colder in the moonlight outside your parents’ restaurant than it had been under the beach’s sun.
You nodded and wiped at your tears with your available hand. “Yeah. Dad will apologize for being so strict after you and AJ go home. He’ll be proud of me for studying in that corner booth hours before the restaurant opens, and— and—”
“It’s okay to be upset.” Heechul offered, “If it means he’ll apologize sooner, I’ll go home—”
“I don’t want you to go home,” you blurted. Thinking that Heechul would tease you, a hand automatically clamped over your mouth.
He didn’t laugh at you, though. A kind, gentle sort of smile curved his lips as he agreed, “Okay. I won’t go home then.” You nodded gratefully, and he promised, “I’ll wait out here with you until you’re ready to go back inside.”
And he waited patiently.
It turned out that Heechul really did have a motorcycle. On days when the sun shone brightly through the morning clouds, he used it to drive you to school and to pick you up during his break or on his way to start his shift at the restaurant. A far sweeter boyfriend than you dreamed was possible, he always pressed a soft kiss to your forehead and fastened your helmet before every ride.
On overcast days when rain threatened to fall from gray morning clouds, Heechul drove you to and from school in his car. Although meticulously cleaned and well functioning, the car wasn’t exactly new.
Upon entering it for the first time, you joked, “So your little sales pitch to the ladies at the restaurant— ya know, ‘buy today’s special, help me earn money, and I’ll drive you around town in a new convertible—’”
Heechul, who had been resisting laughter since you started to mimic his voice, interrupted with a wink. “Those were empty promises, baby. I only ever had eyes for you.”
“Right. Of course.”
You couldn’t quite understand how Heechul could be so indifferent to all of the girls, many of whom were devastatingly gorgeous, but you believed him when he called those interactions mindless flirting. After all, that was all it had been to those girls— non-committal conversations with one of the prettiest boys they had ever seen.
Moments passed in relative silence. The only noise was the drumming of Heechul’s fingers against the steering wheel until you asked, “What time do you have to work today?”
That was how your conversations went when you weren’t busy making fun of each other. Although it didn’t affect him, Heechul would ask about the tests you had scheduled for the day. Although it didn’t affect you, you would ask about his work schedule. It was just nice to express an interest in each other’s day, even if you wouldn’t be there for most of the moments.
“I’m off today.”
You gawked at him. “You don’t have to go in at all?” You couldn’t remember the last time Heechul hadn’t worked at the restaurant for at least a few hours.
“Baby,” Heechul laughed, bringing his eyes away from the road for a split second to look at you. “That’s what it means to be off.”
As always, you rolled your eyes in instances like these when Heechul pretended to be much smarter than you. “Don’t be a butt.” He chuckled at your weak insult. “I’m just surprised that you woke up early to drive me to school when you could have slept in. I can take the bus when you’re unavailable, you know. That’s what I’ve done for years.”
Granted, you embraced Heechul’s role in your morning routine, and your day wouldn’t start nearly as happily without him, but you didn’t want to be selfish with his time.
“But I’m not unavailable,” Heechul argued, shutting the radio off when a song he didn’t like played through the speakers. “I enjoy our morning chats, so you’ll just have to get used to the passenger seat, alright?”
You adopted the tired tone he usually used when groaning, “Whatever,” before offering your sincere thanks.
Instantly, he replied, “You’re welcome,” and you smiled because he no longer squirmed when you spoke to him in genuine admiration.
As he pulled into the parking lot of your school, bringing the car close to the building so you wouldn’t have to walk far in the rain, you looked at him with a pout.
“Ah damn,” Heechul sighed, working a hand through his hair as he took in your expression. “What do you want?”
“Let’s play hooky!” You suggested just to see how he might react.
Heechul snorted. “I’m out of school for the summer, so I’m not pulling some delinquent stunt by driving out of this parking lot. He raised an eyebrow at you. “You, however—”
“Come on, Heechul, pretty please?” Bringing your hands together, you poked your bottom lip out. “I’m just a few weeks away from graduating, and I’ve never skipped a single day.”
“Your father is never going to approve of me if I aid and abet in your first act of truancy, Y/N,” Heechul deadpanned, shaking his head. “I’ve made a lot of progress during the family dinners, and I’m not about to see all my hard work and good manners go to waste just because you look at me like that with your pretty eyes.”
Your effort to skip school had been half-hearted at best, so you forfeited the fight almost as soon as it started. Zipping your backpack, you huffed, “Fine, fine,” biting back your amusement that, for once, he was being the responsible one. “I’ll see you later.”
“So you’re going to leave without giving me a kiss just because I’m not giving you your way?”
That hadn’t been your reasoning at all, but when you turned to face him, hand on the door handle, and saw that Heechul’s lips were puckered disappointedly, you shrugged. Your only motive to play along with his narrative was your amusement with Heechul’s frustration.
“That’s really childish.” Very rich coming from the king of childish behavior.
You shrugged again, and Heechul asked, “Where would we even go if you didn’t go to class?” He carefully phrased the question as a hypothetical, but you understood that he was giving in.
Settling back into your seat, you chewed on your cheek. Because the rain was falling in full force now— pounding against the roof of Heechul’s car and sliding down the windows— the park, beach, and nearby outdoor shopping center wouldn’t be too fun. What was even open at that hour?
Remembering that on an earlier car ride, Heechul mentioned that he was renting an apartment just a few miles from your school, you suggested, “Your place?”
“Wow.” Heechul chuckled at your nerve. “There you go again, being all bold like I can resist you.”
“There you go, being a pervert again,” you squirmed when he smirked at your suggestion. He probably wouldn’t notice the blush rising beneath your makeup, but you turned to face out the window anyway. “It’s not dirty unless you make it dirty, Heechul.”
“Do you want me to?” He reached across the center console to poke at your ribs like an annoying child. As you reached again for the door handle, he blurted, “Sorry, sorry! I won’t make it dirty if you really want to visit my place.”
You skeptically narrowed your eyes at him, reluctantly leaning back in your seat. “Promise?”
Heechul promised, and once you buckled your seatbelt, he drove away. His only condition for allowing you to skip school was that you text your mother to tell her where you were, preparing for the likelihood that the school may call home to report your absence— he didn’t want to worry her.
“Call me crazy,” he said, “but I feel like your mom will be overjoyed that you’re doing a normal teenager thing for once.”
“You are crazy,” you teased, giggling when he rolled his eyes, “but not because of that. While Dad has always been worried about me growing into a successful adult, I think Mom has been worried that I was never really a happy kid.”
Casually, as if the question weren’t deeply personal, he asked, “Were you? Were you a happy kid?”
Why couldn’t you answer straight away?
In all honesty, you couldn’t remember laughing as much in your entire life as you had in the last month with Heechul. You couldn’t remember the last time you looked up from your textbooks before that day he sat across from you and ripped your magazine.
Maybe it wasn’t so much that you were unhappy before Heechul’s smile became the highlight of your day. Maybe you just hadn’t known before that happiness could be a priority.
Heechul pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name as he opened your door. Offering his hand, he wondered, “What are you thinking?”
All you could think was, “I love you, I love you, I love you,” the feeling magnified by his touch, but that hardly seemed like the right thing to say when Heechul led you into his spotless all-white apartment, out of the rain.
“Doesn’t it stress you out?” You asked as you anxiously eased onto the red couch at his urging. “Living in a place like this, I mean. I would be afraid I would spill something or somehow ruin the pretty white paint.”
After kicking your shoes off, you pulled your socked feet onto the couch, afraid of soiling the shiny white floor that appeared untrodden.
Heechul said, laughing at your behavior, “You can’t be afraid of making your mark on the world.”
Taking that as encouragement to follow him into some other room, you leaped off the couch. Heechul almost collided with you when he turned out of the room, clutching a guitar in hand.
“Wow,” he grinned despite his promise not to make things weird. “If you’re so eager to come into my room, come on ahead.” He pushed the door open, probably expecting you to run, blushing, back into the living room.
Driven by curiosity and a desire to surprise Heechul, you walked past him into a white bedroom covered with posters, housing guitars— electric and acoustic— and lined with bookshelves. Upon closer inspection, however, you realized that the shelves weren’t filled with books; they were overflowing with alphabetized CDs ranging from all languages, all genres, all decades.
Apparently unable to stand the silence, Heechul remarked, “I just re-organized those. I change it up a lot. This time it’s alphabetical order, but I’ve tried organizing them by genre, release date, language— oh—”
When you turned to face him, he was sitting with his back against the headboard and blushing. Sometimes, like when he chewed his lips to cope with mild embarrassment, Heechul was adorable.
“Oops.” He mirrored your smile when you sat on the foot of his bed. “I’m rambling.”
“Did you write me a song?” You folded your hands in your lap as you teased, “You know, like how you used to promise those girls—”
Throwing his head back, Heechul groaned, “This again!” He couldn’t dampen the bright smile that illuminated his face when you giggled at his reaction. “I don’t write songs about other girls! Only about you!”
Assuming that he was joking as usual, you disregarded that remark until he started strumming on the strings and filled the air with his gentle hum. Heechul sang often in the car, and you often complimented his talent, but there was a softer quality in his voice now.
Why was his voice so different? Was it because you were in his room, whose atmosphere was somehow different— almost forbidden— from his car’s atmosphere? Was it because his voice was accompanied by a dulcet acoustic guitar rather than the full hard rock ensemble he sang along to in the car?
Maybe Heechul sensed your questions, and maybe he wanted to give you some answers. “I haven’t written the lyrics yet. Or maybe I have, and I’m just too embarrassed to sing them while you’re looking at me like that—”
Like what? Like there had never been anybody so beautiful in the history of mankind? Like he held your heart in the palm of his hand (and probably didn’t even realize it)? Like you wanted to admire him for the rest of time?
“— but I kind of thought it would be nice— like something romantic from one of your magazines— to tell you that I love you with a song, but—”
Heechul paused again as if you weren’t leaning in to his every word. His strumming ceased as he looked up from the guitar to gauge your reaction. Once satisfied by your sharp gasp, he continued, “But you know I can’t ever really stick with a plan. I see you, and I get so excited that I can’t just think to myself that I love you. I have to tell you.”
He set the guitar down on the floor, crawled to your side of the bed. Balancing on his knees and maintaining a small distance between your faces that instantly flooded your senses with memories of your first cherry flavored kiss on the beach, he breathed, “I love you.”
Then, as if to spare you the burden of having to return the three simple words, Heechul brushed his lips against yours.
Not too long ago, Heechul would have tried to debate when you breathlessly responded, “I love you too.” He would have said something like “Why are you saying that? You can’t just say that you love me because I said it first.”
Your feelings must have been obvious from the expression he admired on your face when he broke the kiss; Heechul’s only response was a smile as he pulled your body against his.
. . .
“He really likes you,” AJ said over the phone when she called to congratulate you on graduating.
Applying the last touches of your makeup, you agreed. “I know.”
Your father decided that the best way to celebrate your graduation and acceptance into an online summer college program was to host a small party. Beaming too radiantly at your achievements to cling to his disapproval of your boyfriend, he had said, “You can even invite Heechul!” as if Heechul didn’t work at the restaurant where the party would be hosted. Still, you smiled at your father’s effort to encourage your happiness.
Maybe it was silly to put so much effort into your appearance when Heechul considered you beautiful during all those days when you didn’t bother wearing makeup, but maybe you weren’t dressing up to impress him. Maybe you were trying to demonstrate with your appearance some transformation that occurred over the past few months; after all, your magazines called fashion a form of self-expression.
AJ teased, her smirk almost audible, “I bet you’re doing that adorable thing where you smile down at the ground, just lost in the thought of him.”
AJ was right about one thing: you were smiling, but not at the ground. You smiled as you met your bright eyes in the mirror.
“Of course, I don’t blame you or anything. He really likes you,” she repeated, and you almost wanted to brag that he loves you, but that seemed too special to share over a phone call. That detail needed to be reserved for an in-person conversation (or at least a FaceTime chat).
She continued, “You barged into his bedroom, and nothing scandalous happened? That’s true love.”
Or maybe, you thought, smile fading, Heechul just didn’t think about you like that.
It was ironic. AJ (the self-proclaimed wild child always searching for a fling) admired the lack of physical intimacy in your relationship while you (the lifelong good girl who found love without looking) frowned.
Why were you upset, though? Did you genuinely crave that kind of connection with Heechul? Wasn’t it enough— more than enough— beautiful— that he loved you? Was this knotting in your stomach just the latest manifestation of your fear that, maybe, his attraction to you was limited?
You couldn’t understand, and that confusion about your own feelings deepened the frown lines around your cherry red lips.
Calling your name, AJ asked, “Are you still there?”
“Sorry.” Although nobody was there to see it, you forced a smile as you swept your makeup into a drawer. “I have to go, AJ. All this talking about Heechul has made me lose track of time.” You hoped that by distracting her with a joke at your own expense, she wouldn’t be able to imagine your sudden discomfort.
Too consumed by your spiraling thoughts on the short walk from your family’s home into the restaurant, you didn’t see him coming until he had you pinned against the cold, hard floor. Before you ever looked at him, you felt Heechul’s heart thundering against your chest.
He grinned, reaching up to pick pieces of crushed taco shell out of your hair. Apparently in no rush to stand despite the stares and laughter of party guests— comprised mostly of family members and your parents’ friends— Heechul traced the outline of your lips with his thumb. “Hey.”
“Hey.” You were just about to hiss for him to get off, heat rising to your cheeks at his close proximity, when you made the mistake of looking into his eyes.
On the bright side, looking at him— loving him— distracted you from the burning embarrassment of having fallen in a restaurant full of people. You probably would have laid there, heart racing, staring at Heechul for hours if he hadn’t suddenly jumped up.
As if realizing at once that the people closest to you (and your family) were watching, Heechul dropped the tray he had been carrying onto an empty table and offered both hands to help you off of the ground.
The restaurant wasn’t entirely closed to the public— your father probably determined that he couldn’t afford to miss a day of profit. A table full of girls clad in brightly colored bikini tops giggled when Heechul pulled you past them to the back of the restaurant.
Stupidly, as if you couldn’t read the sign that marked the ladies’ restroom, you whispered, “Where are we going?”
“You have lettuce and tomato and beef all in your hair,” Heechul explained as he led you into the restroom. He ushered for you to sit atop the bathroom counter. “And that’s my fault, so—”
“You can’t be in here!” As if transforming into your mother, you wagged your finger as you scolded him. “What if somebody—”
“Look at us. Anyone who walks in here and thinks it’s a little suspicious that the waiter and the owners’ daughter are alone in the women’s restroom, they’ll quickly realize that this is some kind of emergency.” Heechul spun you around to face your reflection. Both of you were covered head to toe, as he said, in lettuce, tomato, beef, and whatever else Chef Leeteuk piled onto the tray.
Having only soiled his apron— which, technically, was made to be dirtied— Heechul frowned only when he noticed your frown in the mirror.
“Hey.” Heechul turned you to face him before he lifted you onto the counter. “I’m sorry.” He ripped a paper towel from its dispenser, ran it under the water faucet, and wiped at some sauce staining your cheek. “I’m sorry if I hurt you.”
Stirred by the guilt flooding his eyes, you didn’t hesitate to explain, “I’m not hurt. I’m just— I know you probably think this kind of thing is stupid— but I spent a long time getting dressed, and—”
Heechul followed your gaze down to your white dress that had been stained by the food. “Shit. I’m sorry—” He moved to wipe at the stain, but faltered once he realized that it covered the majority of your chest. Tossing the paper towel onto the counter, he repeated, “I’m really sorry. It’s not stupid that you dressed up for your graduation party; it’s stupid that I ran into you with a tray full of tacos. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay,” you responded to each of Heechul’s apologies, but he didn’t seem to hear you.
“I know this won’t be nearly as pretty as your dress—” Heechul looked you over again and cast his eyes up to the ceiling as he hissed, “Damn it, you really dressed nice. You still look pretty post-incident, so I know you looked drop dead gorgeous when you walked in. And I barely even got to see it before I tackled you.”
“Heechul.” To make him hear, you had to hold his face in your hands. His cheeks scalded your palms. “It’s okay. I’m okay. Yeah, this dress is probably ruined—” he groaned— “but it’s not the end of the world. This is one of those one time dresses, anyway. It’s fine. Really,” you said to his skeptical expression, “it’s fine.”
Unconvinced, Heechul shook his head before catching your lips with his. Maybe he thought the sweet act of affection would lessen his guilt. Maybe he wanted to gauge whether you were truly upset by your response to his kiss.
Maybe he was satisfied by the urgency with which you drew him closer, forgetting (or not caring) that the food still sticking to his apron would further taint your dress. Maybe he was smiling into the kiss until, without warning, your hands gathered the fabric over his chest and shoved him away.
“What’s wrong?” Heechul asked so often that the words rolled off his tongue without much thought. He gave you that look— brows furrowing and eyes twinkling with curiosity— that always preceded his request for you to trust him with your deepest thoughts.
“We can’t do this here.”
“What?” Heechul quirked his head at you, hair falling from his ponytail holder to fall into his eyes. “Kiss?”
You nodded, and he kissed— the frustrating tight-lipped pecks that were ending and beginning again before you could react— your lips again and again until you gathered the strength to push him away.
“We are in a public restroom, Heechul,” you reminded him between pants, “and we are in my parents’ restaurant, and—”
“I promise I’m not just being an insatiable pervert.” Heechul retied his ponytail before saying, “I know when you’re embarrassed. You’ve been blushing since those stupid girls laughed at us—”
Us, Heechul said, but they had been laughing at you. Knowing that Heechul wouldn’t want to hear that— explaining that would send him out to their table to harshly deliver a piece of his mind— you bit your tongue.
“— and I would just rather think that you’re blushing because I kissed you over and over again— not because I ran into you with a tray of tacos like an idiot.”
Again, like every other day of knowing him, you were struck by the realization, “You’re nice, Heechul.” Sometimes, because he teased you so much, that fact was easy to forget; rediscovering it every day was a joy, though.
“Only to you,” he conditioned before kissing you. “Oh— like I was trying to say earlier before I got distracted— I know that this isn’t anywhere near being as pretty as your dress—” He frowned, tracing his fingers along the ruined fabric— “but I brought clothes to change into after my shift, before I joined your party. They probably won’t fit you right, but—”
“Heechul,” you wiggled your eyebrows teasingly, “was this all an elaborate scheme to get me out of my clothes?”
Because he was honestly trying to atone for his actions, Heechul wasn’t prepared for your playfulness to strike at that exact moment. His face turned beet red, and he stuttered, “No— I— no—”
“If you wanted me to take my dress off,” you jumped off of the counter and reached for the zipper, biting back laughter, “all you had to do was ask.”
Heechul kept his eyes fixed on yours, either trying to call your bluff or daring you to follow through. When you started to tug on the zipper, however, he clapped a hand over his eyes and whined, “We can’t do this here! We’re in a public restroom, and we’re in your parents’ restaurant!”
Once you doubled over laughing, he dropped his hand, wheezing, “Aish, everything’s a joke with you, huh?”
Thoroughly unashamed— proud, even— you nodded your head. “A funny joke!”
“You win this round, baby,” Heechul warned, “but watch out.” He brushed his lips against your forehead before walking out of the restroom, you assumed, to retrieve the clothes he offered.
Leaning against a stall door, you passed the time as you always did when Heechul wasn’t by your side: by imagining the next time you would get lost in his eyes.
Request: “ If you are still tAking requests. Could possibly have a prompts 6 & 9 with Heechul please?? “ - Anon
Prompts:
6. “It must suck not being this good-looking.”
9. “Yah! I know I am handsome, but could you stop staring at me like that? It’s creepy.”
Word Count: 822
You looked at yourself from the mirror, trying to do all kinds of poses. However, you didn’t seem to like how you looked. You crossed your arms and pouted as you stared at the person who stared at you back. You didn’t even know why you saw yourself like this. You weren’t unattractive, no you were quite pretty. But honestly, you wished you could have been prettier. Dating a man who was arguably prettier than you, was not easy.
You tried to do more different poses, pushing your head up, then down, looking yourself from every possible angle you could. But it all seemed in vain, as in the end of it all, you still didn’t really like how you looked. You wrinkled your nose, glaring at yourself in the mirror. Stupid mirror.
“What are you doing? You look stupid”, your boyfriend, Heechul, as lovely as always, came in the bathroom.
“I’m trying to be pretty!” you said, fixing your hair, but honestly that didn’t help at all.
Heechul only chuckled and walked behind you. He looked himself from the mirror, moving his head to see different angles and then slightly fixed his hair. He looked perfect.
“This is not fair...” you pouted even more.
“It’s not my fault I’m this pretty,” he said smugly and then smirked.
You rolled your eyes, turning to walk away from the bathroom.
“Hey, come on! You’re pretty too”, Heechul tried to speak as he followed you. You sighed annoyingly.
“Thanks”, you said.
“Come on babe”, Heechul spoke and took out his phone. “Let’s take a selfie together and I’ll show you!”
You turned around, your arms crossed, but you still walked to him and let him pose while you did the same. He snapped a picture and looked at it, grinning wide.
“I look good”, he said, nodding in approval. “As always.”
You snatched the phone from him and looked at the picture. You pouted. To you, you didn’t look even half as nice as he did. You grumpily pushed the phone against his chest and walked off to sit on the couch in the living room.
He followed you, sitting next to you on the furniture. He brought the phone back to point at his face as he checked himself from the screen. He moved his head to both sides, admiring himself.
“Stop doing that, you weirdo”, you told him a little bitterly.
“Can’t I admire my beauty?” he asked, raising his brow.
“No”, you answered, crossing your arms. “It’s weird.”
“You should try it sometimes”, Heechul huffed, rolling his eyes.
You narrowed your eyes as you looked at him. “What? Admiring your beauty?”
He then laughed loudly for a bit too long for your liking. “No silly, admire your own beauty. Though you can admire mine too if you want.”
You huffed. “Easy for you to say... You are actually beautiful...”
Heechul only shook his head, going back to admiring himself from the screen of his phone. You mumbled some nonsense to yourself as you were a little upset.
He only chuckled. “It must suck not being this good-looking”, he said then snapped another picture of himself.
You slowly turned your head at him, glaring at him intensely, your arms still crossed. He at first didn’t notice you, but when he glanced over at you, he then looked again at your face. He gave you a playful disgusted look, raising his shoulders up a bit.
“Yah! I know I am handsome, but could you stop staring at me like that? It’s creepy.” he spoke, leaning back a little.
You looked really unamused of his joking. “I hate you”, you said, looking away.
Heechul laughed again. You pouted more, crossing your arms tighter. Suddenly, you heard as he snapped a picture of you. You quickly shot your stare at him, furrowing your brows.
“What did you do??” you asked.
“Took a picture of my pretty girlfriend”, he said without thinking, smiling proudly at himself.
“I swear-”
“I mean it”, he spoke, sitting closer to you. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you really close to him. Your grumpiness seemed to fade away instantly from his touch.
“I may be prettier than you-”
You shot another glare at him, worse than before. You looked like you were about to smack him, which he noticed.
“Let me finish!” he said as quickly as he could. “But you’re still the prettiest girl I’ve ever met.”
“Sure I am.” You rolled your eyes. “I don’t need your pity...”
Heechul gently cupped your face and kissed you softly. It was a short kiss, but still full of affection. When he leaned away, he pressed his forehead against yours. He smiled to you, with a smile that showed you his love. He cared for you a lot, you could tell. Suddenly all your insecurities faded away for a moment, as he spoke.
‘Yah Jagi!’ A voice shouted, clicking their fingers in front of your face.
‘Wait what?’ You came back to reality, almost drowsy in some sense.
‘Earth to Y/N?’ The voice chuckled, taking a seat next to you, ‘You have drool on your mouth, daydreaming hurts.’
‘Oh, sorry.’ You wiped it away with the back of your hand, not really meaning the apology.
‘Am I that boring?’ He teased.
‘Yes.’ You stated flatly, ‘Like why am I here, Heechul! I have a job!’
‘And that is being Kim Heechul’s girlfriend.’ He said proudly.
You rolled your eyes but that was mostly due to annoyance rather then amusement. You were a hairdresser and friends with some of the most amazing beauticians in the country, which was a plus when Kim Heechul is your boyfriend. The man always took pride in his looks and appearance which was a good thing, until it became a hazard to your working life. Since Gunhee wasn’t around now on a daily basis for these “Heenim moments”, as he likes to call them, you were thus stuck with it.
‘You get pampered more then a bloody woman does, Chul!’ You scolded, ‘Like I had to cancel three appointments just so I could come to your MANICURE!’
‘My hands are money makers, darling.’ He poked your forehead.
‘Yeah cause your face isn’t that great anyway.’ You smirked, knowing that he would get offended.
A look of complete shock and horror befell his face, ‘Take it back!’
‘Will you admit that you are worse then a girl at getting beautified?’
‘No!’
‘Then I stick to my word.’ You grinned, standing up and walking away since you knew he couldn’t run after you due to waiting for his appointment.
Kim Heechul was famous for his overdramatic demure, but all you knew was that he was just a big baby. A big baby that you loved, but also wanted to throw in front of a busy half the time. It wasn’t that the male was high maintenance, but he was just…. well….you know…yeah okay he was just a damn load of high maintenance but you loved him regardless. You walked out the shop knowing that you just needed a breather before stepping back inside.
A young lady called Heechul’s name and escorted him to the working station before taking his hands, ‘You have nice hands, you know?’
‘My pride and joy.’ He said with confidence just as you walk in.
‘Said no normal man ever.’ You teased.
‘And the devil is back.’ Heechul rolled his eyes.
‘Only because my true master summoned me.’ You witted back.
‘Oh? Kyuhyun is here?’ Heechul looked around comically for the maknae.
‘Oh you poor thing,’ You patted his head, ‘Your old age has gotten you delusional. You are now calling out to people who aren’t even anywhere close to you…’ The young lady couldn’t help but laugh at the banter that you and your boyfriend shared, ‘Ha! I told you I was funny!’
‘In your dreams sweetheart,’ Heechul scoffed, ‘In no world is Y/L/N Y/N funnier then Kim Heechul!’
At that moment your phone began to ring so you stood up and walked towards Heechul and bent down to whisper, ‘And in no world are you getting any sex tonight, Mr Kim.’ Your voice soft before answering the phone, ‘Hello?’
(A/N) Here’s some Heechul that the sweet @momomochiiii requested! Sorry it took so long, darling! Hope you’ll enjoy this one!
"Will you please just sit still?," Heechul whined, forcefully grabbing your cheeks to face him as he chastised you more, "How am I supposed to make you look even remotely pretty when you can't even look at me?"
"Because," you pouted, crossing your arms as he searched through your makeup bag with his bottom lip between his teeth. "You know how I am with eye contact and stuff, it makes me embarrassed."
"I know," he cooed, turning back with a iridescent highlighter and fan brush in his hands, smile reaching his eyes as he teased, "And I totally used it against you before we dated. Now," he leaned in close and inspected your face in earnest, "Let's do your eyebrows!"
You scooted ten feet away from him, holding his hands that were armed with makeup from your face as you cried, "That's a highlighter, you moron! Did you learn nothing on that show of yours?"
He grinned, playing coy as he took your wrists and folded them neatly into your lap, "You know I'm only teasing. I really did learn some things, even if I'm not the best at them." He acted quite serious now, concentrating fully on illuminating your cheekbones, nose, and Cupid's bow with the powdered highlighter. He leaned back and covered his mouth in fake shock, "Oh boy..."
"What?!," you squealed, fumbling for your pink hand mirror as you held it up to your face to inspect the damage he had done. You're eyes widened as you turned your head to the side, watching the perfectly placed highlighter shimmer and reflect off the lighting in your bathroom. You were pleasantly surprised, sticking your bottom lip out as you admired your reflection, "Not bad, Heechul."
"Gosh, why'd you think I made that face for a negative reason?," he sighed, setting down the highlighter as he dug around in your stuffed makeup bag for something else. He shot you a playful smirk as he saw you still admiring yourself in the mirror, "I was just shocked by how pretty you looked."
"Yeah, yeah," you hummed, rolling your eyes with a smile as he finally pulled out what he was looking for. You saw with apprehension the mischievous look on his face as he held up the lipstick triumphantly, "You're doing my lipstick too?" You slowly reached for the chic black tube, biting your lips, "Can I just...?"
He saw your hand going to grab the lipstick and he jerked away, holding it protectively to his chest, "Nope, I don't think so. Why would I be the host of Lipstick Prince if I couldn't apply it perfectly? Trust-"
"No way," you said, turning your body slowly toward the door as you planned your escape, hoping he wouldn't notice your sneaky intentions. "I saw the episode where you completely mutilated that poor woman's face with lipstick, don't even try it."
"I'm hurt," he pouted, laying a hand on his heart dramatically, closing his eyes to emphasize his pain as you saw this as your opportunity to make a run for it. You stood up faster than a lightning strike, startling Heechul, his eyes flying open as you made a mad dash for the bedroom, hoping for escape. He was after you in mere seconds, following you down the hall clumsily as he shouted, "Hey!"
You lurched forward and snagged the handle of the master bedroom, a smile of relief on your face as you threw it open and went to slam it shut. A strong hand grabbed your wrist and tugged the handle out of your grasp, your escape slipping through your fingers as Heechul wrestled you onto the bed. He pinned you down and you couldn't help but laugh, seeing his chest heaving as you let your body relax underneath his, "Ya got me."
"That wasn't funny," he frowned, looking like a child who almost had his favorite toy taken away. You giggled at him, reaching up to squish his face into a smile, making him whine, "You're making it hard to be offended right now, you know."
"I know," you replied smugly, watching a smirk grow on his lips as your fingers trailed up his thighs which straddled you. You glanced up at him suggestively and he licked his lips, really playing it up for you in the greasiest way so that you laughed for him.
"Wow, just what are you thinking about right now, Miss __________?," Heechul asked, making you watch curiously as he uncapped your lipstick, glancing down to see the sexy red color.
"I'm wondering why you opened my lipstick, actually," you replied, looking down as he experimentally ran the tip over his finger, staining himself red. You had a feeling some clothes and bed sheets were about to be ruined from the smirk that spread over Heechul's lips as he rubbed the scarlet color on his fingers together.
He slid the hem of your dress up your legs, smiling at the way he could feel your skin twitch from the sudden contact. His voice was low, playful in every way, "You know how women leave kiss marks on men from their lipstick? I have something like that in mind."
You watched with bated breath as he pushed your dress up past your hips, fingers coming back down to slide your panties off your thighs. Your eyes grew big as he sat up and took one of your legs and hooked it onto his shoulder, the tip of the lipstick pressing into your thigh as he signed his name like an album at a fan sign, "There. Now everyone will know who you belong to."
"But," he said, brow furrowing as he tapped his chin in thought. "We can do better though, right?" He smiled and moved down to his stomach, fingers coming up to spread apart your bottom lips as he already saw you getting wet for him. You gasped at the contact, head craning down to watch him as he leaned in to lick a thick stripe up your center, making your legs tremble around his head as he continued to eat you out.
"H-heechul," you whimpered, fisting the sheets as you rolled your hips gently into his mouth, making him pull away with a disappointed look on his face.
"When did I say it was okay to move?," he murmured, taking the lipstick in his hand again as he held down your stomach. His hand was poised over your hip, tapping it lightly with the lipstick as he thought it over, "There's only one kind of person who goes seeking out pleasure in a very crude way. And that's," he wrote a single word out in fluid cursive, your face flushing as he read it out, "a slut."
You bit your tongue as you read his writing over and over, eyes darting between that and his name on your thigh, the heat pooling between your legs growing. He settled back down into his previous position, lipstick swirling down and around your skin as he drew on you while he ate you out. Your stomach and legs were soon covered in lipstick tattoos, patterns, his name, and words like baby girl, princess, and slut; all his favorite pet names scrawled in his curvy handwriting all across your skin.
He sucked on your clit harshly and your back bowed off the bed, feeling so close but knowing if you said anything he'd tease you for even longer. So you stayed silent in your pleasure, only letting out the occasional whimpers when his tongue sunk past your folds and into your heat. You felt him stroke your walls slightly with his wet muscle, fingers tightening on the sheets as you threw your head back and began to come. Much to your surprise, he let you have your release, instead of edging you like he usually enjoyed to do, watching with hooded eyes as you unraveled before him. He was considerate and helped you ride out your orgasm, thumb coming up to rub your sensitive bundle of nerves generously, "Such a good girl."
You whimpered his name softly, body still shaking as he sat up and leaned over you so he could mold his lips to yours, effectively silencing you. He kissed you deeply, allowing you to taste yourself fully as he slid his tongue in sneakily. You made out with him for a few minutes, hands wandering his body as you urged him to strip. He didn't respond to your urges and opted to pull away from you with a smile.
"What about you?," you croaked, reaching out for him as he stood up off the bed with his usual smirk as he looked up and down at your body with all his red markings he'd made with your lipstick.
"I'm fine for now," he said airily, capping your lipstick and sliding it into his dress pants pocket. "Wouldn't want to mess up my artwork, now would I?"
