pairing: Kwon Soonyoung x Reader (gender not specified)
synopsis: Hoshi moves in with the love of his life; you.
WC: 276, drabble
Requested? no
an: I originally wrote this last September, and my friends convinced me it should see the light of day. It's a really short one, but I hope you enjoy :) @orbitondgtl @gent1es3xy
unofficial svt debut on the blog...
if there are any mistakes, please let me know! English is not my first language.
If someone had told Soonyoung he would be moving in with the love of his life way back when, he would have told them ‘you can’t move in with dancing’. Now though, he was carrying the last box of his stuff into his new home.
With you, the actual love of his life.
“Is that the last box?” You peaked your head out of the kitchen like you’d been summoned by his thoughts. He barely managed to tone down his grin. “It is! It’s official now, you can’t kick me out anymore.”
He set the box down with a gleeful laugh, plopped down on the couch and watched you pout at the fact he had stolen your joke before you could even make it.
Just more proof that you were meant to be in his eyes.
You shook your head and joined him in the living room. “Now your actual nightmare can begin,” you snickered. “the unpacking.”
“You’ll help me, right?”
“The tiger can do his own unpacking, I’m sure.”
“Baby.” He whined, like he didn’t see you pick up a box to help in contrast to your words.
You just laughed and carried the box over to the bedroom. “C’mon Soon, it’s not break time yet.”
He groaned jokingly before getting up to grab a box the second you were out of his sight. He rested the edge on his hip as he took a second to look around, to really take in the space that felt different now that he was officially moving in.
With a content smile, he followed you into the bedroom to unpack his things and really make the house his home.
warnings: none? it's just fluff again. except maybe the tiniest bit of angst. oh, and stressed hoshi.
wc: 1.7k
a/n: a little drabble i planned a while ago that i only got to writing now. belated happy hoshi day! thank you to my baby @mellowgyu for helping me finalise the banner, i love you. this is not proofread.
Soonyoung was in one of his moods— when he gets overly sensitive and practices to the point of exhaustion—and everyone in the room could feel his wrath. No one ever understood what causes the sudden spike of irritation in him and nobody has ever tried to find out because not only are they terrified of angry Hoshi, but these "moods" also make him more dedicated towards his performances. He always crushes the stage when in this state, but today, as the staff watch him repeatedly practice the choreography for his upcoming performance at the HxW concert, they start to worry for his health. Woozi, watching his friend dissociate as he overworks himself to what would most likely be bedrest in a hospital, decides he's seen enough and calls the one person he knows can calm him down, you.
By the time Hoshi is done with the Spider choreography for the nth time, the door opens and you walk in. Soonyoung doesn't see you yet, too busy wallowing in his own world of emotions that are ranging between anger, annoyance, fear and anxiety. He gestures for the music to be played again, taking his position on the pole, upside down as he gets ready to do it all over again. You see him close his eyes, taking a breather before he starts dancing to the song, you catch Jihoon's eyes and he gestures for everyone to leave, giving you both some privacy. Everyone except for you and Soonyoung have left the room, quietly to not alert the very obviously anxious man. The speaker hums through the silence in the room, the familiar melody echoing off the walls making Soonyoung's body move as if on autopilot.
His eyes are still closed as he starts to dance, you walk towards him, but he's completely lost in the sway of his arms and the beats of the music that rings through the air. It's the Hoshi you've seen on stage but this one is tired and fragile, your heart aches for him. When you reach him, you drop down to his level, coming face to face with your very much exhausted yet stubborn boyfriend who still doesn't realise what's happening. You stare at his face, the way he looks relaxed but to your accustomed eyes, the exhaustion is obvious. He looks beautiful, seemingly calm yet raging beneath that tough exterior, just like a tiger as he claims. You shake your head, fighting a smile as your mouth twitches, thinking about what you're about to do. It's when he's about to lift himself up that you move, your lips slotting against his in a kiss, an upside down kiss, and Soonyoung freezes, recognizing the warmth of your touch but confused about how and when you got here.
You take adavantage of his frozen state and bite his lip, making him whine as he feels you smile against him. Giving him another peck to soothe the sting, you pull back to see his face. His lips are still parted as he slowly opens his eyes, looking flustered with the tips of his ears reddened. Soonyoung tries to process everything that just happened, his fingers coming up to touch his lips, like he can't believe what you did. The action has you giggling, a sound that snaps him back to the present, his head tilting as he takes in the sight of you standing in front of him, smiling so beautifully that he forgets everything else. He realises he's smiling too— he has been since he felt you kiss him—he can't help it, it's an automatic reaction to you.
Propping himself upright since he was still hanging upside down, he gets off the pole and immediately goes to take you into his arms. "When did you get here baby?" Hearing his question, you narrow your eyes playfully and tsk, "You didn't notice me even when I walked over to you. That preoccupied, huh?"
You see the instant guilt on his face, softening as you realise he was a lot more stressed than you thought. "Hosh, look at me." Looking into his eyes, you ask him, "What's wrong? I've never seen you this distressed before." You see a smile appear on his face but it doesn't reach his eyes, "It's nothing baby, I just want to make sure I practice enough." Not believing a single word that came out of his smiling mouth, you continue to look into his eyes. Seeing the deadpan expression on your face, Soonyoung sighs, giving in. Honestly, he doesn't know why he bothered to lie in the first place when he knows you could easily see through the lie behind the practiced answer.
"I just feel like I need to make sure everything is perfect for the concert. It's our last one before enlisting, so I guess it just made me scared? I just-It's hitting me that I won't be on stage for a while after this so I want to make this as memorable as possible."
Listening to your boyfriend speak of his concerns, you understand where he's coming from. For as long as you've known Soonyoung, he's always shining on the stage—he thrives when he performs—so to have to leave that behind for a couple years must be a very complicated feeling that he has been dealing with since they announced this tour. However, you know that him overworking himself like this is not the answer.
"I understand that Soonie, but practicing like this will put your health at risk. It's more harm than good, so please rest properly and you can continue again, okay?"
He knows you're right, he knows Jihoon must have called you after seeing him do the same thing over and over again. He smiles to himself, thinking that he really is lucky to have his members. Yet, he still cannot bring himself to stop practicing like you tell him to. It's like his mind refuses to listen to his aching body, itching to start the music again.
Watching the conflict on his face, you reach out to grab his face with both hands, forcing him to look at you. You get his attention for a second before his mind wanders again, you heart aching for him as you realise this is much harder for him than he expected it to be, you do the on thing you can think of.
Soonyoung feels you kiss him again and he's shocked for a second before he reciprocates, not wasting time as he pulls you closer, not letting you get away this time. His hand moves to the back of your head, deepening the kiss and making you gasp when he bites you just like you did a few minutes ago.
When you part, both of you are panting from the intensity of the kiss and Soonyoung looks at you like he's finally snapped out of his thoughts surrounding the never ending practice. He breaks the silence first, "I'm sorry baby." A confused sound leaves you as you tilt your head, "For what?"
"You're trying to comfort me and make me understand that I need to stop doing this for my own good but my stubborn ass didn't listen."
Endeared, you assure him, "You're listening now, that's all that matters."
Soonyoung swears he's the luckiest man alive for having you in his life and he's thankful to the universe for bringing him to you. He calls your name softly, "Thank you, baby. God knows I love you so much." Chuckling, you pull him back into a tight embrace, "I love you, too."
He feels his knees weaken as if it's his first time hearing you say it—like he could melt into the ground at the sound of your voice telling him you love him—he doesn't think he will ever get used to that feeling.
He feels you pull away, and you're looking at him as you speak firmly, "Soonyoung, I know you're scared about leaving, I know you're scared about what the future will hold by the time you get back, but I want you to remember that no matter what, I'm not going anywhere. So are the members and your fans. Well, most of them anyway. The fans, I mean. Cheol will drag them back if any of the members try to leave." You hear him chuckle at that, knowing his leader will do exactly that. "I know it's terrifying to leave everything behind but it's not forever, we're all here for you. Always."
While your words don't make his concerns disappear, he does feel much more confident in facing the future, with you by his side. He then sees the love in your eyes and it makes him forget everything he was worried about, there's nothing more beautiful in his eyes. As long as you stay with him, he knows he'll be happy.
He moves to places sweet kisses against your eyelids and forehead before pulling you into another hug. You cuddle into his chest as you understand this is his way of saying he knows, and that he's thankful for you.
The moment is broken when the door opens and Jihoon walks in. He pauses when he sees the sight in front of him, the two of you snug in each other's arms. He smiles, "Good, you smacked some sense into him, I was starting to get worried since you were taking too long. I'll get going then. See you tomorrow, don't be so pissy tomorrow." He says, looking at Soonyoung before he turns and walks back out the door.
Laughing, you turn to look at your boyfriend who's rolling his eyes with a fond smile. "So, you wanna go get dinner?" He nods, about to ask what you want to eat when you beat him to it, "Kimchi-jjigae?" The smile on his face is wide enough to make his cheeks hurt, "Of course baby, let's go."
As you walk out the building and get into the car, Soonyoung finally remembers how you had kissed him when he was still on the pole trying to dance. Turning to look at you, he asks, "Baby, what made you think of kissing me while I was upside down?"
You grin at his question, mischief visible in your eyes, "You were too occupied with the stress that you weren't reacting to anything. So, I had to get creative."
Hearing your answer, Soonyoung laughs, "Well, you're welcome to do that any time, baby." Laughing with him now, you drive to your favorite restaurant to get dinner, happy that you managed to ease your boyfriend of his worries.
Summary: it's Soonyoung's birthday, but the only thing on his mind is finally confessing to his best friend his feelings for her.
W.C: 4.2k
CW: some profanity, very slight alcohol consumption, and kissing. Hoshi and reader have pet names for each other (Hoshi is Tiger, and Reader is Bunny). No use of y/n, and nothing but tooth-achingly sweet fluff.
A/N: happy to have my return to tumblr for my ult biases bday. im very proud of this one, and i hope you all enjoy xx
“Earth to Soonyoung?”
Soonyoung blinks a few times, unaware that he has zoned out. He glances over to you, then offers an apologetic smile.
“Sorry.” He says. “What did you say?”
“I asked what you wanted to do for your birthday.” You reply, stretching your arms above your head.
The two of you are sprawled out on the small sofa in Soonyoung’s apartment. It was a hot summer day, and the windows were cracked to allow some type of airflow. His AC had gone out a few days prior, and maintenance hasn’t been able to swing by to fix it yet. Truthfully speaking, cold air is what he wants for his birthday. Beyond that, he isn’t particularly fond of the day itself. Birthdays are overrated to him. Why celebrate being one year closer to death? Soonyoung enjoys being alive. Getting older meant that time was passing. He wasn’t sure he was ready for that, yet.
“Ah,” he sighs, settling deeper into the cushions. “Do we have to do anything?”
You laugh, lifting your head slightly to look at him. “We can do whatever you want. Even if that’s rotting like we are now–but I will not let you wallow for the nth year in a row, Tiger.”
He tries to shift to look at you, but you are both a tangled mess of limbs at the moment. He gives up and lets his head hit the armrest again. Rotting the day away with you did sound nice, but anything with you is nice. The two of you have been inseparable since you were kids, and you are pretty much the only person Soonyoung never gets sick of. But maybe that’s because he is also hopelessly in love with you - though that’s besides the point.
“What if I want to wallow?” He fires back. “It’s my birthday.”
“God, you’re so depressing.” You mutter, but there is no real bite to it. There never is. Soonyoung smiles up at the ceiling.
“I’m just messing with you.” He replies. “If we have to do something, I guess I’m content with anything that involves you. Just…nothing theatrical, yeah? I want something lowkey.”
You wiggle so that you’re sitting up this time. Soonyoung lifts his head to find you grinning back at him.
“Really?” You beam. “You’ll actually let me plan something this year?”
Soonyoung should be concerned about whatever you have up your sleeve, but if it means you’ll smile like this again, he quickly decides he doesn’t care. Biting the inside of his cheek, he draws in a deep breath.
“Yeah, bunny.” He manages, forcing a smile back at you. “Go ahead and plan something.”
Seokmin is laughing at him as they wait in line. Soonyoung folds his arms across his chest, immediately regretting saying anything to him. Monday coffee runs were a routine for them. They carpool on the way to work, anyway, so starting the week with something good only made sense. This morning, Soonyoung had mentioned briefly that he was letting you plan something for his birthday, and Seokmin found it amusing. He had every right to, though. Given the fact that Soonyoung never does anything for his birthday and that he’s been harboring feelings for you for a good five years, anybody would find the scenario amusing.
“God, you’re so whipped.” His friend remarks, playfully patting him on the back. “When are you just going to muster the courage to tell her? It’s been long enough.”
Soonyoung quickly shakes his head as the line moves forward. “I can’t do that. What if she doesn’t feel the same? I’m not risking a friendship of twenty-five years over a crush that will likely pass.”
“Likely pass.” Seokmin repeats with an eye roll. “Five years of pining, hyung. I don’t think it’ll pass. We’re far beyond the point of it ‘passing’.”
The line inches forward again. Soonyoung sighs, then glances over to him. “I’m content with her friendship for now. I think when the time is right, I’ll say something.”
“When is the time ever right?” His friend counters. “Look, I just hate to see you put yourself through this. Even if you do say something and she doesn’t feel the same, I don’t think she is the type of person to throw away your friendship because of it.”
“Yeah, I guess that’s true,” Soonyoung replies flatly.
His eyes scan the menu ahead, but there’s really no point. He gets the same iced Americano every time they come here. He feels his phone buzz in his pocket and quickly pulls it out. Your name flashes across the screen, with a quick series of texts sent to him.
Bunny 🐰: what size are you again?
Bunny 🐰: jk your mom told me
Bunny 🐰: wait, actually, i do need to know if you prefer chocolate or vanilla. i feel like it changes every week
Bunny 🐰: jk i’m getting marble cake. deal with it.
The corners of his mouth twitch as he quickly types a response:
Tiger 🐯: you’re too much.
Bunny 🐰: you love me 🙂
Soonyoung blinks a few times. God, if only you knew. He hesitates as he types out his last reply:
Tiger 🐯: i do.
He quickly puts his phone in his pocket, unsure of whether he wants to see what you have to say next or not. It’s not like it’s some grand confession, anyway. You always say ‘I love you’ to each other. Part of him hopes that you notice the slight shift in his text, but then he realizes how ridiculous that sounds.
“Fuck.” He mutters aloud. Seokmin glances over to him.
“You good?” He asks.
Soonyoung nods, then cards a hand through his hair. “I’m fine, I just…I think you’re right.”
“I know I’m right,” Seokmin says confidently. “So, how do you want to tell her?”
He takes a moment to think, trying to rack his mind over something that would stand out to you. He hums for a moment as they approach the counter to order. Off to the side, there’s a small menu with seasonal drinks on it. As Seokmin rattles off their usuals, Soonyoung quickly chimes in.
“Can I also get a small s’mores frappe?” He asks. “Extra chocolate, if possible. And whipped cream.”
The barista types in their orders as Soonyoung pays. Seokmin gives them his name, before they meander to a small table in the corner.
“Coffee?” Seokmin frowns. His tone is slightly disappointed. “That’s how you’re going to tell her?”
“No.” Soonyoung quickly says. “I’m going to surprise her at work. I’ll, I don’t know, ask her to dinner tonight. Or something.”
Seokmin rolls his eyes. “Smooth.”
“What do you suggest I do?” Soonyoung folds his arms across his chest.
“I don’t know,” Seokmin admits. “Just, anything other than that. I mean, she does so much for everyone else. Don’t you think a bigger gesture is deserved?”
“It’s more than deserved,” Soonyoung argues. “But how are you supposed to outdo the doer?”
Seokmin is quiet for a moment as he thinks. When the order is called from the counter, Soonyoung wanders back to pick it up. He sits again and passes his friend the drink. Seokmin takes it when a coy grin teases his lips.
“I think I have an idea.”
The next few weeks pass, and the time that Soonyoung usually spends with you is now taken up with Seokmin. To be frank, Soonyoung has nothing against Seokmin. But at the end of the day, Seokmin isn’t you, and Seokmin is annoying. They’ve spent the last several days putting things together for this grand confession (which Seokmin claims is ‘foolproof’ and that it’s going to ‘definitely work’), and he quickly found out that his friend sings about everything. Between going through old boxes, photos, and past birthday gifts, the man found any excuse to sing a little song. It was beginning to drive Soonyoung a little crazy.
As he’s taping a picture to some scrapbook paper, Soonyoung notices his phone light up beside him. He glances down, reading a message from you:
Bunny 🐰: you’ve been so busy lately. are you replacing me with seokmin? :(
He laughs to himself as he types back:
Tiger 🐯: i could never. he’s so annoying. he’s not as nice to look at, either.
Bunny 🐰: i know, i am kind of a catch. but lets see each other soon? i mean, preferably before your birthday, but i’ll take what i can get.
Tiger 🐯: i’ll see what i can do. been working on a project, but i’ll make the time for you.
When he sets his phone back down, Seokmin is singing again. Soonyoung closes his eyes, as if not seeing him will make him stop (news flash: it doesn’t). He watches as his friend reaches for the tape and presses another photo to the page.
“You know,” Seokmin says, “I never knew how sentimental you were. Do you keep everything that she gives you?”
Soonyoung shrugs. “For the most part. I don’t think there’s anything I’ve thrown away. At least, anything that involves her.”
Seokmin looks over to him and proudly presents the page he had been working on. Soonyoung grimaces a bit, but his page doesn’t look any better. He has never been a crafty person, and neither has Seokmin. He keeps insisting, though, that a handmade gift will win her over. Soonyoung isn’t sure how confident he is in that theory. Sure, you’ll like it, but he thinks there could be a better way to tell you how he feels. Something that means something to you.
“At this rate, the scrapbook will be done before your birthday on Friday,” Seokmin announces. “I finished the page with all the old concert tickets already. I still can’t believe you guys saw Astro.”
“Yeah.” Soonyoung pauses. Then he adds, “Do we really think this is the way to do it?”
Seokmin shrugs. “She’s a pretty sentimental person, too, right? I think she’ll love this.”
“I guess so,” Soonyoung mutters.
“You think she’s going to make you make a wish again this year?” Seokmin laughs. “She did that last year, remember?”
Of course he remembers. It was so embarrassing, but the last thing he would ever do is tell you no. Last year, you insisted on dragging him out to a bar with the whole friend group. The bar offered complimentary cake for your birthday, and when they brought out a small slice with a single candle, you begged him to make a wish. You’d gone on a whole tangent about all the superstitions you believed in, and told him that wishes were your favorite. Whether it's on a candle, a dandelion, or a wishbone, you loved the idea of making a wish and hoping it would eventually come true. That had been plenty of convincing for him to do it. He just suffered the embarrassing blows to his ego from his friends afterward. It didn’t matter, though, because you were smiling so big, he was sure your cheeks probably hurt.
“She’ll probably do it again.” Soonyoung finally responds. “She loves that kind of thing, you know?”
“Yeah, she does.” Seokmin sighs happily. “Well, I think this is a good stopping point for the night, yeah?”
Soonyoung hums in agreement. He tries to remind himself that the scrapbook is the perfect way to tell you he loves you, but the idea still doesn’t feel complete. He pushes the thought away for now, certain that he’ll think of something else in time.
The day his birthday rolls around, Soonyoung is a nervous wreck. You’d been distant all day, but he knew it had to be because of the party…right? No, of course it was. He had to stop convincing himself otherwise, because that would make his big confession tonight so much worse. He probably wouldn’t be able to do it if he continues to get himself worked up, but the second you walk into his apartment to set things up, he knows he’s screwed.
You’re juggling two arms full of groceries, as well as balloons in one hand and his present in the other. Soonyoung doesn’t waste a beat, hurrying over to help you set things down. It’s only after he turns to face you again that he sees what you’re wearing. He blinks a few times.
“Is that the same dress you wore when I graduated?” He asks.
You look down as if you've forgotten what you're wearing. You grin and meet his gaze again. “Yes! It still fits! Isn’t that crazy?”
For a moment, he forgets entirely how to speak. You haven’t worn this dress since his graduation, which also happens to be the same day he realized he loved you. So, naturally, that dress has been ingrained in his memory since then. It’s not even anything fancy–it's a shorter black dress that flares out at the skirt. There are no flashy sequins or designs. But because you were the one wearing it, it became the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen in his life.
“Yeah.” He replies. He realizes how hoarse his voice sounds and quickly clears his throat. “Uh, crazy.”
You begin passing him things to set off to the side, insisting that you’ll be setting everything up. He just has to “sit and look pretty”. He isn’t sure how to take that statement. But he obliges anyway, watching you maneuver through his apartment as if you belonged there. In his mind, you do. You always have. He just hopes tonight goes well so you can officially belong here with him–at least in the way he wants you to.
“Everybody should be here in the next hour or so.” You announce, glancing over to him. “I kept it to just our friends. Lowkey, just like you asked.”
Soonyoung swallows. “Cool.”
“Are you okay?” You frown, walking over to him. “You’ve been weird since I got here.”
“I’m cool!” He replies a little too loudly. “I’m great. I just–” he pauses “--am really hungry, I think.”
You laugh, taking the balloons from him. When your fingers brush his for a moment, he swears the breath is knocked out of his lungs instantly. “Good thing we’re eating soon.” You hum. “Do you want to change?”
Soonyoung looks down and realizes he never changed out of his ratty pajama pants from last night. His face burns red in embarrassment. You must notice, because you quickly begin to ramble, “You totally don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s your birthday. I just thought that maybe you’d–”
“I’d love to change.” Soonyoung quickly stands. “I have something I need to take care of, anyway.”
You make a face. “Ew.”
Soonyoung’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, Bunny, not like that. Jesus, I just meant–”
“I’m kidding.” You giggle. “Go change, Tiger. I’m here.”
Once everybody arrives, Soonyoung seems to relax a bit more. The playlist you made for tonight is perfect, and he’s reminded during every song how much you understand him and his picky music taste. After a couple of hours, Seokmin manages to find him and pulls him aside.
“Did you wrap it?” He asks quietly. “When are you going to give it to her?”
Soonyoung glances over to you to make sure you can’t hear the conversation. Thankfully, you’re happily distracted by whatever antics Chan has up his sleeve right now. He looks back at Seokmin.
“Probably when everyone leaves?” He suggests. “I want it to be just us. I don’t think doing it in front of everybody is the way to go.”
His friend quickly nods in agreement. Soonyoung can tell he’s tipsy. “Good thinking. Nice. Okay, well, let me know if you need anything?”
Soonyoung just nods and watches Seokmin stumble a bit before running into Seungcheol. As Soonyoung begins to make his way over to you, he sees Joshua coming out of his kitchen, balancing the cake in his hands. You gasp excitedly, and dim the lights. Next thing he knows, Soonyoung is being ushered over to the table where he’s greeted by a tiger-face-shaped cake with the words:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, SOONYOUNG!
When he looks up, his eyes find yours immediately. He barely notices his friends sticking the ‘30’ candle on top of the cake. A few of his friends made a joke that the bakery probably thought the cake was for a kid, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. Not when he knew what it meant to the two of you. He swears for a minute he sees your ears turn red, but then the candles are lit, and everyone is singing to him. After an excruciatingly off-tune birthday song, Soonyoung hesitates. He offers you a small smile.
“Should I make a wish?”
There’s a brief second where you falter, clearly not expecting him to ask that. When everyone looks at you, that’s when Soonyoung’s suspicion is confirmed: you’re blushing like crazy.
“Do you want to?” You ask in response.
A bit of Soonyoung’s confidence is regained, knowing he got you this flustered. Maybe, he thought with the smallest ounce of hope, tonight would go exactly like he was hoping it would. He draws in a dramatic, deep breath and closes his eyes. He doesn’t even care that his friends are laughing right now as he uses every ounce of his mind to make a wish for you–as he wishes for you. Once a couple of theatrical seconds pass, Soonyoung blows out the candle and opens his eyes again. Everyone is clapping and digging into the cake, but the two of you are staring at each other, unmoving. It’s not until Seokmin ceremoniously shakes Soonyoung that he’s pulled out of his thoughts, and moves to get some cake for himself.
After the last few guests make their way out, it’s finally just you and Soonyoung left in his apartment. He was beginning to think it would never happen, given how long everybody was staying. The music still plays softly through your small Bluetooth speaker as the two of you walk around, picking up dishes and cups from around his living room. When Soonyoung picks up his fifth glass, he pauses.
“Thank you.” He says, looking over to you. You glance up from where you’re at in the kitchen, and grin.
“Always.” You respond. Your attention shifts back to the dishes.
Soonyoung makes sure you’re distracted enough before he slips away to his bedroom and retrieves the scrapbook. When he returns, you’re humming along to the music. He watches for a second as you sway your hips and allow yourself to get lost with whatever song is playing. He takes a deep breath, then walks over to you.
“I have something for you.” He announces quietly. You glance over at him and frown when you see the present in his hands.
“Soonyoung, what is this?” You question. He reaches over, turning off the running water. Here goes nothing.
“Uh,” he clears his throat, “you know how I’ve been spending a lot more time with Seokmin, lately?”
You nod.
“Well, it was because he was helping me make this.” He continues, “Um, do you want to sit and open it?”
You hesitate, so Soonyoung gently grabs your hand and leads you out to his couch. Once you both sit, he passes the present to you. You haven’t taken your eyes off of him, yet. Finally, you force out a nervous laugh.
“What’re you doing?” You say softly. “I mean, first the wish and now…” You look down at the gift in your lap.
Soonyoung doesn’t say anything. He just watches as your fingers delicately trace over the wrapping paper before you begin to peel it off slowly–like you were scared to see what was inside. Once the paper is fully discarded, you’re completely silent. Soonyoung forgets how awful most of the pages in there look and quickly shifts closer to you as they come into view again.
“Um, so I’m not crafty by any means.” He says, and it’s his turn to laugh nervously. “So don’t judge it too hard, okay?”
You don’t look at him. Instead, you’re captivated by the book in front of you. When you open to the first page, Soonyoung sees the realization wash over your face. That’s what prompts you to look at him.
“You kept all of this?” Your tone is filled with nothing but disbelief and admiration. He thinks for a second that he hears your voice shake slightly. “But, why?”
“Bunny, I–” he stops. Then, “you mean a lot to me.”
“You mean a lot to me, too–”
“No, I mean,” he sighs before grabbing your hands, “you mean a lot to me. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while, but…I don’t know. I guess I was too nervous. I didn’t want to jeopardize the relationship we already have. But I also know I didn’t want to sit and wait any longer than I already had. You do so much for me, and I wanted to show you just how much I care. How much I’ve always cared. I love you.”
When you don’t reply right away, Soonyoung swallows nervously. Then, finally, you smile.
“You haven’t opened my present yet.” You say.
Soonyoung blinks. “What?”
Without explaining, you gently set the scrapbook onto his coffee table. You disappear around the corner for a second, then return with a small box in your hands. Soonyoung had completely forgotten that you arrived with it. When you sit again, you pass it over to him. He takes it as you watch him expectantly. He begins to unwrap it, but he swears his hands are shaking while he does so. When he takes the lid off the box, his heart stumbles to a stop. Inside was a small silver bracelet with a bunny charm. Soonyoung looks up at you, finding you holding out your wrist. You’re wearing a matching one with a tiger on it instead.
“I’m surprised you didn’t notice it all night.” You comment. “I guess we both had the same idea. Because Soonyoung, I love you, too.”
He doesn’t know what to say at first. So instead, his brain auto-pilots, “holy fuck.”
“Soonyoung!” You shove him playfully, but he catches your arm as you do so. Your expression falters for a second at his reaction. His heart is back to beating as rapidly as it was all night.
“You love me.” He repeats. Saying it feels so real to him. Then, he grins. “You love me.”
“I think we’ve established that, Tiger.” You mutter, but the blush has crept back up to your cheeks. Soonyoung pulls you closer.
“Can I please kiss you?”
“I’d be upset if you didn’t.”
Soonyoung presses his lips to yours as if his life depended on it, though maybe it did. The second they meet, he melts completely into your touch. He could taste the cherry lip gloss that you wore every day, and that he had imagined the taste of thousands of different times. He wraps his arms around your waist, tugging you closer to him. Your hands find their way to his shoulders. When you pull away to take a breath, Soonyoung hardly lets you stay apart for long before chasing after you again. The second kiss is slower, more exploratory. He feels your body relax against him, and he swears it’s what heaven feels like–or at least something close to it.
“Soonyoung,” you whisper into his mouth, “as much as I’d love to continue this, I really want to look at that scrapbook.”
He pulls away and takes a mental picture of your swollen lips and flushed face–you look divine. Then it registers to him what you said, and he frowns.
“It looks like shit.” He says. “Please keep kissing me instead, I’d really rather not be here while you look at it.”
You just laugh and gently push him away. He watches as you take a second to fix your dress and stand. As you grab the scrapbook, you look back at him mischievously.
“Please?” You coo, waving it at him. “I really want to see what my boyfriend made for me.”
That causes Soonyoung to short-circuit, but he’s quick to come back to his senses as he jumps to his feet. He hurries after you, but you cut into the kitchen, and he practically runs into the wall.
“Boyfriend?” He huffs, but an amused expression tugs at his lips. “You can’t just say that and run away.”
“Isn’t that what you are, now?” You tease. “Or should we have a formal proposition for the title?”
Soonyoung cringes at that. “God, no. I’m definitely your boyfriend. If that’s what you say I am, then that’s what I am.”
You smile as you set the scrapbook down on the kitchen counter. “I won’t open it right now, but I’m definitely looking at it when I go home later.”
Soonyoung hums. “As long as I’m not there to witness my shit storm of a scrapbook, I’m fine with that.”
A comfortable silence settles between the two of you, and Soonyoung doesn’t think he could get happier than this. After a few seconds pass, you take a step towards him.
“Soonyoung, what did you wish for?” You ask.
For a second, he considers telling you. But knowing how superstitious you are, he opts for pulling you back into him instead.
“Don’t you know I can’t say?” He smirks. “That means the wish won’t come true.”
divider by @uzmacchiato !! go check out their stuff, it's so cute xx
Summary : Soonyoung was your bodyguard, he shouldn't want you, you shouldn't either. But will that stop either of you from taking what you want?
Pairing : Soonyoung x fem!reader
Word Count : 800 words
Tags : Suggestive themes.
MINORS MDNI 18+
Warnings : Soonyoung is morally grey, possessive statements, both of them are horny, reader is in her later 20's and soonyoung in his late 30's, age gap, suggestive themes, kissing.
Note : Happy Birthday to Kwon Soonyoung! On the occassion of changing my banner to tiger and his birthday, it was only fair to write a drabble for our tiger boy.
Not betaread, hope it makes sense and yall like it! Let me know your thoughts and comments by reblogging and liking!
Everyday you looked at Soonyoung with your doe eyes, he would feel his resolve crumbling. It wasn't supposed to go this way, he wasn't supposed to fall in love with you. He wasn't supposed to think that you always made his days lighter and brighter.
A few hours earlier you called him into your room to show your ensemble for a party tonight. You were wearing an ivory satin gown with an off shoulder and draped sleeves, the dress hugging you perfectly. Your hair was dark and long, as it thickly fell over behind your shoulders. And then when you twirled around to show off your dress, Soonyoung realized he was so fucked.
The entire party, he watched you laughing, talking with the guests. The light from the chandeliers glinted off of your gown, making you shine like an angel as you passed through the venue. It was so hard not to look away. It was hard, period.
Yet, he kept to himself. It was wrong. You were quite younger than him, and he was your bodyguard for god's sake. Instead of protecting you from trouble, he was trying not to think about fucking you.
You seem to have noticed something. He caught you looking at him a few times, far more than he ever saw you looking at him at events. He wondered if he spoke his mind, about how he wanted to take you right here.
After the event was over, as you retreated to your room, he followed you. To make sure you reached safely, which was a stupid thing considering you were already inside your house guarded with heavy technology and security.
You stopped in front of your door and looked at him. The glitter in your eye shadow, the blush in your cheeks, and those plump rose lips that now jotted out as you folded your arms and looked at him. Your eyes swirling with something he couldn't quite put a point on.
You were then a second later dusting off Soonyoung's jacket, the movement slow and deliberate. Your hand was so close to his heart, he wondered if you felt the way it was racing against his chest. Then, you fixed his tie, his brows furrowed for a moment and then you did something that threw him off of his axis completely.
You held onto Soonyoung's tie and tugged at him, making him lean closer to you, his face just mere inches away from yours.
"Will you kiss me?"
Soonyoung was immediately on you, all the reasoning and the alarms blaring in his head completely ignored as he felt your lips against his. Your lip gloss tasted like strawberry, your scent filling and wrapping around him as he leans into you. His palm fits your face, the other circling your waist as he pulls you in closer.
He hears you moan, the sound breaking him away from his lust as he takes a step back.
"This shouldn't have happened," He wants it to happen, but he can't let it. His wants and needs are separate, they should stay that way.
"Soony-"
"Good night," He cuts you off, his voice tight as he holds himself back. Its hard because now he knows you want him just the way he does, that you need him just the way he does.
You hold his wrist and tug him back, your strength surprising Soonyoung as he finds himself falling back into the place in front of you before he tried to walk away.
"Do you want this?" You ask him.
"I cannot,—"
"That's not what I fucking asked, Soonyoung."
He looks at you, the way your hand tightened on his wrist, the way your breathing got a bit heavy. And your lips looked plump from the kiss. Your eyes, they were dazed, looking at him in the way that made him go weak in his knees.
"Fuck it," He curses pulling you closer, kissing you like it would save him from damnation. Kissing you like he was a dying man and you were oxygen.
Your lips welcomed his immediately, your tongues clashing as he holds you close opening the door to your room. He doesn't stop kissing you as he slowly walks you back into your room, mindful of your dress and closes it behind him.
Soonyoung was going to be fired or worse, killed for even touching you. For wanting you.
But he could not care less. Not as you kissed him like you needed it, like it meant everything to you. He was going to ruin you for others. Anytime you kiss or fuck anyone else, you were going to remember him. Now that he has you, nobody can take you away from him.
🦷 soonyoung x f!reader
🦷 1k
🦷 cute/hot makeout? i guess?
🦷 for @gent1es3xy bc she's insane. she found the photos i used so blame her.
🦷 soonyoung has braces obviously. he flips from cute to hot Very fast. tiny bit of blood in mouth. many kisses. much making out. i think it's pretty hot making out. tongues. i... idk.
🦷 i've never had braces btw so hopefully this is relatively? accurate? also i was aBOUT to format and post this when The vernon photo showed up. so uh. idk here have this, happy bday hoshi, i'm gonna go scream into the void now :DDD
Soonyoung has braces. It shouldn't be as hot as it is.
🦷
“This sucks,” Soonyoung declared for the tenth time in an hour. You rolled your eyes, closing the book you were pretending to read.
“You’ve been home for two days, and you’ve said ‘This sucks’ more than you’ve said ‘I love you,’” you said back drily. Soonyoung’s already-plump lips, emphasized by his braces, slipped into a dramatic pout.
“But you know I love you!”
“And I know that this sucks. Soonyoung, you literally got a week of leave because your mouth hurts so much. I’m well aware.”
Soonyoung lowered his head, depriving you of his puffy pout.
It was almost offensive, how pretty he looked. With braces, of all things. But they emphasized the swell of his lips, and the curve of his cheeks, and something about it just… drew your attention. You were having an embarrassingly hard time keeping your eyes away. (Your ‘reading’ position, slouched against the arm of the couch with your knees pulled up on the cushion, allowed a perfect vantage point from which to watch, anyway.)
“I do love you,” Soonyoung mumbled. “A lot. I’m just… I mean, I dunno. It hurts a lot. It’s hard to think about anything else, ya know?”
“Yeah –”
“Wait, no, you’ve never had braces!” he burst suddenly, eyes narrowing as he lifted his head from the back of the couch. “You don’t get it!”
You raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, I guess I don’t? I mean, I’m sure it’s uncomfy, but –”
“Wait.” Soonyoung’s eyes gleamed, suddenly catlike. He leaned towards your half of the couch, the warm light of the desk lamp casting shadows over his honeyed skin and highlighting his impossibly sharp jaw.
Oh, no.
How could someone look so hot with braces?
“Um,” you said eloquently, trying to ignore the heat crawling up the back of your neck as Soonyoung crawled towards you. He nudged his way between your raised knees. “Soonyoung, what are you –”
He just grinned, white braces flashing, one hand landing on your hip and pinning you to the couch. You gasped. Your book slid off your stomach and thudded to the floor, but when you turned to check on it, his other hand seized your chin and dragged you to face him.
Then he kissed you.
You squeaked at first, hands flying up to his shoulders to push him away because his orthodontist couldn’t possibly think this was a good idea – but then his tongue pressed against your lips, and your mouth fell open of its own accord.
It was a little worrying, the dexterity with which Soonyoung’s tongue tugged at yours, but somehow he coaxed you up against his teeth. You lingered on the familiar curve of the back of his teeth, but at his little grunts of insistence, your tongue began to wander towards the front of them.
And the braces.
You almost jumped, and you might have if you weren’t held so thoroughly in place. Little metal dots and thin wires and white rubber bands danced beneath your tongue, so foreign and yet so fascinating. Somehow, you couldn’t get enough.
Then Soonyoung started to pull away. You tried to chase him, mouth searching, but then a sharp pain caught your bottom lip and you cried out, fingers digging into his shoulders.
Your lower lip snapped back into your mouth, tingling and wet. You blinked. Soonyoung stared down, dark eyes widening just a fraction.
“Oh,” he murmured. You just breathed, trying to ground yourself. His thumb pushed just above your chin, tucking your bottom lip over your teeth and into your mouth just enough for your tongue to catch a single drop of blood.
Whoa.
“Look at that,” he breathed, barely distant from you at all. Iron coated your tongue. You just stared, his thumb half in your mouth, brain struggling to form thoughts. “You’ve got yourself a little scratch. Want me to kiss it better?”
You couldn’t speak. You just whined. Soonyoung got it.
He leaned back in, thumb slipping away as his lips molded around your injured lower one. He tugged and sucked and rubbed your lip against his braces, and you faded into the couch, small shocks of pain keeping you tethered. Oh. Oh. Oh. Soonyoung pressed closer, his body hot against yours, and it was all you could do to keep your hands on his shoulders. You knew he liked it when you touched him. You just didn’t have the functioning capacity to grope your way down his arms; not now, when a dozen new sensations were assaulting your shredded lip.
Soonyoung bit down harsher, just for a moment, then let go. Your eyelids fluttered, trying to stay on him but failing as everything kept dipping to black.
“So,” he murmured, his deft fingers rubbing at the swell of your lip, “you get what they feel like now?”
You blinked and stared.
Right.
…The braces.
“Oh,” you managed. You totally hadn’t forgotten about the entire point of this. (As if it was hard, with Soonyoung physically weighing you into the cushions.) “Um.”
Soonyoung’s grin turned a little wicked.
“Maybe you need a reminder?” he said with the most teasing lilt possible.
Then his mouth was on yours, open and hot and wet from the start, tongue working as if to teach you the shape of every bracket and every tooth in his jaw. Every reserve was gone, and sounds fell like rain from your mouth, obscene sounds that made your ears burn – but Soonyoung loved them, you knew he did, because every single sound earned a bite or a squeeze or a growl. Your poor bottom lip felt mutilated, mauled, and it was almost definitely swollen.
Something about that made your breath hitch. Soonyoung just chuckled against your tongue and shifted his grasp on your hip, making his shoulders flex deliciously.
Your hands fell to his biceps then. It was unintentional, until he groaned into your mouth and something sparked inside and you squeezed. Hard.
His braces gnashed against your lip almost instantly. You squeezed again, but this time he flexed to meet you, and your eyes nearly rolled back in your head from the pure muscle.
pairing: soonyoung x reader
synopsis: Dance major Hoshi ropes you into being his partner for a psychology thesis on nonverbal intimacy and mirror neurons. The problem? You're both a little too good at dancing like you're in love.
wc: 6.3k
genre: Romance, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, Friends to Lovers, Collage AU
warnings: Public Confession, Second-hand Embarrassment, Miscommunication (kinda)
a/n: happy birthday soonyoung!! This is apart of the Kiss Me, It’s for Academia Series!! All other parts of the series will come out on each respective members birthdays!!
The first time Kwon Soonyoung speaks to you directly, he does not introduce himself.
This is largely because he assumes you already know who he is.
Unfortunately for him, the feeling is mutual.
You know exactly who Kwon Soonyoung is.
Not personally, of course.
Nobody in the dance department can claim they do, because every version of Soonyoung seems to contradict the last. To some professors, he is one of the most promising performers in the program. To others, he is a headache disguised as a student. To the underclassmen, he is a legend. To his friends, judging by the volume of complaints that constantly echo through the building, he is apparently impossible to manage.
Every assessment. Every showcase. Every audition. Every ranking posted outside the faculty office.
There is your name.
And directly above it—
Kwon Soonyoung.
You have spent nearly two years pretending this does not bother you. You are doing a decent job of it. Until he sits beside you on a Monday morning and ruins everything.
The psychology lecture hall is crowded with students from multiple faculties, an arrangement that already feels suspicious. Dance students rarely interact with psychology students unless somebody is dating across departments, and even then it usually ends with one person psychoanalysing the other during finals week.
You are halfway through answering emails when somebody drops into the seat beside you with enough force to shake the entire row.
A water bottle rolls across the desk. A notebook falls open. Someone behind you groans. You do not need to look up.
There is only one person on campus capable of making sitting down feel like a dramatic entrance.
"Good morning."
You continue typing.
"Morning."
"You didn't look at me."
You sigh. Then slowly raise your head. Soonyoung beams. Immediately. Like he has been waiting for this exact moment.
"Hi."
"Hi."
For several seconds he simply stares. You stare back. Neither of you blink.
"What?"
His grin widens.
"You know who I am."
"No."
"You're lying."
You return your attention to your laptop.
"You have tiger stickers on your water bottle."
"So?"
"You wore tiger-print socks to Contemporary Technique last week."
"So?"
"You introduced yourself to a guest lecturer by saying, and I quote, 'I'm Soonyoung but spiritually I'm a tiger.'"
The student in front of you snorts. Soonyoung looks delighted.
"See? You do know me."
"I know of you."
"That's basically friendship."
"It really isn't."
Before he can respond, the lecturer enters the room. The conversation dies immediately. Unfortunately, your peace dies with it.
The professor begins setting up a presentation at the front of the room while students settle into their seats.
"Dance and psychology students," she says. "Thank you for attending. Today's briefing concerns an interdisciplinary research project that will run throughout the semester."
A collective groan spreads through the room. Nobody likes hearing the word project. Nobody likes hearing the word interdisciplinary even more. The PowerPoint clicks to the next slide.
NONVERBAL INTIMACY AND MIRROR NEURON ACTIVATION IN PARTNERED MOVEMENT
Silence. Then—
"What does that mean?"
The professor smiles.
"It means we're studying how people subconsciously mirror one another's movements and emotions."
More slides appear. Brain scans. Research papers. Movement diagrams. Psychological studies. You try to pay attention. You genuinely do. Unfortunately, the person beside you keeps vibrating with excitement.
"You okay?" you whisper.
"So cool."
"It literally involves brain activity."
"Exactly."
"You dance."
"And now I get to dance and do science."
"That's not how either of those things work."
The professor continues speaking.
"Students will be paired across participating disciplines. Throughout the semester, partners will complete movement exercises designed to measure synchronization, trust-building behaviours, emotional recognition, and nonverbal communication."
A psychology student near the front raises her hand.
"So we need a partner?"
"Correct."
The next slide appears.
PARTNER REGISTRATION TODAY.
A wave of panic immediately spreads through the room. Students begin turning toward friends. Names are exchanged. Groups start forming.
The entire lecture hall descends into chaos. You are still reading the registration requirements when somebody abruptly places a form in front of you. You stare at it. Then at the hand holding it. Then at Soonyoung.
"No."
"What?"
"No."
"I haven't said anything."
"You don't need to."
His smile becomes suspiciously innocent.
"I just thought—"
"No."
"—that since we're both dancers—"
"No."
"—and we're around the same performance level—"
"Absolutely not."
"—and the study specifically involves movement synchronization—"
"No."
"So that's a maybe."
"It isn't."
He looks genuinely offended.
"Why not?"
You gesture vaguely toward him.
"You're you."
"What does that mean?"
"You know exactly what it means."
"I really don't."
"You have too much energy."
"So your problem is that I'm fun."
"My problem is that you treat every situation like a game show."
"So your problem is that I'm entertaining."
"My problem is that partnering with you sounds exhausting."
He considers this. Then nods.
"That's fair."
You blink. The agreement catches you off guard.
"So you'll find somebody else?"
"No."
The agreement was a trap.
"I'll simply prove that I'm not exhausting."
"You are exhausting right now."
"I haven't even started."
"That's somehow worse."
Around the room, registration forms continue disappearing as students finalize partnerships. One by one. Until very few names remain unclaimed. You return your attention to the paperwork. Unfortunately, Soonyoung does the same. Unfortunately, he does it faster.
By the time you realise what he's doing, he has already written something down. Your stomach drops.
"Did you—"
"No."
"You absolutely did."
"No."
You snatch the paper. There, under partner registration, are two names. Kwon Soonyoung. And yours.
You stare. Slowly. Dangerously.
"Why is my name there?"
"Efficiency."
"That's not efficiency."
"It saved time."
"That is forgery."
The psychology student collecting forms reaches your row. Before you can react, Soonyoung hands her the paper. She takes it. Smiles. And walks away. Your soul leaves your body.
"Did you just submit that?"
"Looks like it."
"Are you insane?"
"A little."
You drop your head onto the desk. Somewhere above you, Soonyoung laughs. The sound is irritatingly warm.
You hate it. A lot.
—
The first research session takes place three days later. You arrive determined to maintain professionalism. The psychology students are already setting up cameras around the rehearsal studio. Clipboards appear. Laptops appear. There are far too many clipboards.
Nobody should ever trust a room containing that many clipboards. You spot Soonyoung immediately. He is stretching in the corner. Or attempting to. Most of his effort appears focused on talking. His friends occupy the surrounding floor space. One of them notices you first.
"Oh."
Another follows his gaze. Then another. Then another. The entire group collectively turns. You immediately regret arriving. Soonyoung spots you next. His face lights up.
"Partner!"
You close your eyes. Deep breath. Very deep breath. When you open them again, he is somehow already standing beside you.
"Good morning."
"It is eight a.m."
"Exactly."
"Nobody should be this awake."
He grins.
"You ready?"
"No."
"Perfect."
A psychology student claps her hands.
"Okay, everyone. First exercise."
The participants gather. Clipboards ready. Researchers waiting. You are already suspicious. Then she explains the activity. Mirroring. One person moves. The other follows.
Simple. Straightforward. Entirely harmless. Unfortunately, Soonyoung treats it like a competition. The moment the exercise begins, he narrows his eyes. You narrow yours back.
"Oh, we're doing this?"
"We're doing what?"
"The thing."
"There is no thing."
"There is absolutely a thing."
Then he moves. You follow immediately. His arm rises. Yours matches it. A step forward. A turn. A shift in weight. You mirror everything effortlessly. The exercise grows faster. Then more complex. Then absurdly complex. Neither of you notice.
You are too focused. Too determined. Too unwilling to lose whatever invisible argument has developed between you. The room gradually falls silent.
Researchers stop writing. Other participants stop moving. Somewhere in the background, somebody whispers,
"What the hell?"
You and Soonyoung continue. Perfectly synchronized. Without hesitation. Without discussion. Without needing to think. Eventually the exercise ends. Neither of you realise until the instructor calls time. The room remains strangely quiet. You look around.
Every researcher is staring. Every participant is staring. The lead psychology student slowly lowers her clipboard.
"...well."
You frown.
"What?"
She exchanges a look with another researcher. Then glances down at her notes. Then back at you.
"You two have never partnered before?"
"No."
"Nope," Soonyoung says.
Another pause. The researcher looks even more confused.
"Are you sure?"
Beside you, Soonyoung starts smiling. Slowly. Dangerously. You immediately know you're going to regret whatever comes next. The researcher clears her throat.
"Your synchronization score is currently the highest we've recorded."
Silence. Then Soonyoung turns toward you. Looking unbearably pleased.
"See?"
You groan.
"Don't."
"We're scientifically compatible."
"We are not scientifically compatible."
"The data disagrees."
The psychology students begin discussing results among themselves. Clipboards fill with notes. Numbers. Observations. Excitement. You watch all of it with growing dread.
Because if this is what happened during the first session, the rest of the semester is going to be a disaster. Beside you, Soonyoung is still smiling.
Like somebody who has just won something. Maybe he has.
And for the first time, you have the uncomfortable feeling that partnering with Kwon Soonyoung might end up changing far more than a research project.
—
[CASE FILE 001]
SUBJECTS
Y/N
Me
OBSERVATION
Y/N says I'm exhausting.
This is hurtful.
Possibly true.
Further observation:
Y/N mirrored every movement perfectly today.
Not ninety percent.
Not ninety-five percent.
Perfectly.
Psychology students looked like they had discovered a new species.
I looked normal about it.
(Seungkwan says this is a lie.)
WORKING THEORY
Y/N is secretly competitive.
Evidence:
The death stare.
The death stare.
The other death stare.
IMPORTANT SCIENTIFIC NOTE
When Y/N concentrates, they bite the inside of their cheek.
I noticed this after approximately thirty seconds.
This information probably means nothing.
Probably.
K.S
—
The problem with spending three hours a week attached to another person is that eventually you start learning things about them.
Not important things. Not the kind of things that would matter. Just small things. Completely insignificant things.
Things that absolutely do not explain why you find yourself looking for Kwon Soonyoung whenever you enter a room.
The first thing you learn is that he talks constantly. The second thing you learn is that he somehow talks even more when he's nervous. The third thing you learn is that he becomes nervous far more often than anyone realizes. This revelation arrives during the second research session.
The psychology students have transformed Studio B into something that resembles a social experiment designed by people who enjoy causing emotional damage.
Several cameras line the walls. Observation tables sit in one corner. Clipboards have multiplied. You are beginning to suspect clipboards reproduce when left unsupervised.
"So," one researcher says brightly, "today we'll be focusing on trust-building exercises."
The room collectively groans. The researcher ignores everyone.
"The first activity involves blindfolded guidance."
The groaning becomes louder. Your stomach sinks. Across the room, Soonyoung raises his hand.
"Question."
"Yes?"
"Have any of these exercises been approved by people who actually have to do them?"
"No."
"Okay. Just checking."
The researcher smiles.
"You'll take turns leading your partner through movement sequences while they're unable to see."
You already hate this. You hate it even more when a black blindfold lands in your hands.
"Absolutely not."
"It's just walking."
"It's never just walking."
"You sound like you're about to enter a haunted house."
"Because this feels like a haunted house."
Soonyoung laughs. Unfortunately, the sound makes you laugh too. The researchers immediately notice. Pens begin moving. You narrow your eyes. The pens continue moving. You are starting to dislike psychology students. A lot.
—
You lose the coin toss. Which means you're blindfolded first. Wonderful. Just wonderful. The fabric settles over your eyes, plunging the studio into darkness. Immediately, every sound becomes louder.
Footsteps. Conversations. The faint hum of the air conditioning. And somewhere very close—
"Ready?"
Soonyoung's voice. Much closer than expected. You nearly jump.
"No."
"Good answer."
"I hate you."
"No, you don't."
Your heart does something strange. Something deeply annoying. You choose to ignore it.
"Can we start?"
"Sure."
A hand brushes your elbow. Gentle. Careful. Steady. The contact catches you off guard. Because Soonyoung is rarely careful.
Most of the time he barrels through life with the enthusiasm of somebody who believes consequences are optional.
Yet now his movements are deliberate. Measured. Like he's genuinely worried about making a mistake.
"Step forward."
You obey.
"Good."
"You sound surprised."
"I was mentally preparing for you to walk into a wall."
"I wasn't going to walk into a wall."
"You absolutely were."
His laughter echoes through the studio. Then his hand shifts slightly. Still resting against your arm. Still guiding. For several minutes he leads you through a series of movements. Turns. Weight shifts. Simple dance combinations. Nothing particularly difficult. And yet the strange awareness from last week returns. You know where he is. Even without seeing him. You know when he steps closer. When he moves away. When he's watching you.
The realization is unsettling.
By the time the blindfold comes off, you're relieved. Then you look up. And find three psychology students staring. One slowly lowers her clipboard.
"Oh, come on."
She blinks.
"What?"
"You wrote something."
"We're supposed to write things."
"Whatever it was, I don't like it."
The researcher exchanges a look with another student. Neither of them answer. That is somehow worse.
—
The next exercise is worse. Much worse. Catastrophically worse. Weight-sharing. A concept that sounds innocent until someone explains it.
"You'll be supporting your partner's balance."
You already know where this is going. You dislike where this is going. The researcher continues.
"Trust your partner completely."
You glance at Soonyoung. He glances back. Neither of you look convinced.
"Trusting him completely feels irresponsible."
"Hey."
"It's true."
"It kind of is," another dance student admits.
"Traitor."
The exercise begins. For the first ten minutes, everything goes fine. Then somebody introduces lifts. You immediately regret attending university.
"Okay," Soonyoung says.
"We're not doing that."
"We have to."
"We could fake our deaths."
"That's not a solution."
"It's a pretty good solution."
Unfortunately, the researchers insist. Which is how you find yourself standing in front of him while he stretches his shoulders.
"This is a terrible idea."
"You say that about everything."
"Because everything involving you becomes a terrible idea."
"So dramatic."
You cross your arms.
"So if I fall—"
"I'll catch you."
"You don't sound confident."
"I am confident."
"You hesitated."
"I didn't."
"You absolutely did."
"I was breathing."
The lift itself lasts less than five seconds. One moment your feet are on the floor. The next they're not. Your stomach drops.
Instinctively, your hands find his shoulders. His grip tightens. Steady. Secure.
You are suddenly aware of several things at once. The strength in his arms. The way his concentration replaces his usual grin. The fact that he's looking directly at you. The fact that you are looking directly at him. The fact that neither of you seem capable of looking away.
The room disappears. Just for a second. Then—
"Okay!"
A psychology student practically shouts.
"Great data!"
You nearly fall out of the lift. The moment shatters instantly. Soonyoung sets you down. Too quickly. Both of you step back. Immediately. Like the extra space might somehow undo whatever just happened.
"See?" he says.
Voice slightly higher than usual.
"Told you I'd catch you."
You clear your throat.
"Good for you."
Very smooth. Exceptionally normal response. Nobody suspects anything. Especially not the psychology students furiously writing notes.
—
The semester progresses. The project continues. And despite your best efforts, spending so much time together becomes routine.
You rehearse between classes. Grab coffee before sessions. Complain about assignments. Argue over choreography. Argue over music. Argue over whether cereal counts as soup.
The answer is obviously no. Soonyoung remains wrong. You discover he leaves encouraging sticky notes inside borrowed textbooks. You discover he stays late helping first-year students practice.
You discover he pretends not to care about grades despite checking assessment results within minutes of release.
Meanwhile, he learns things too. Like how you always arrive fifteen minutes early. How you rehearse difficult sequences long after everyone else leaves. How you keep old performance programs folded inside your notebook. Neither of you mention these observations.
Doing so would require admitting you've been paying attention.
Far too much attention.
—
The trouble starts during the fifth research session. Everything is going normally. Or as normally as possible when a room full of psychology students is analysing your body language.
You and Soonyoung finish another improvisation exercise. Applause breaks out from somewhere in the room. The researchers look thrilled.
Again. A familiar feeling of dread settles over you. One of the graduate students approaches.
"Can I ask something?"
"No," you say immediately.
"Please?"
You sigh.
"What?"
The student checks her notes. Then looks between you and Soonyoung. Then back to her notes. Then back to both of you. You already know this conversation will end badly.
"How long have you been together?"
Silence. The entire room freezes. Your brain stops functioning. Beside you, Soonyoung chokes on his water. Violently. Someone starts laughing. Then another person. Then another. The graduate student looks horrified.
"Oh my god."
"We're not together," you manage.
"We're not?" Soonyoung blurts.
You stare at him. He stares at you. The room explodes.
"Oh, you're unbelievable."
"I meant—"
"You are unbelievable."
"I was joking."
"You were not."
"I was mostly joking."
"SOONYOUNG."
The psychology student is frantically apologising now.
"I'm so sorry. It's just that your synchronization scores are extremely high and—"
"And?" you ask.
She immediately regrets speaking.
"And you kind of dance like you're in love."
Silence. Again. Somehow worse this time.
Nobody moves. Nobody breathes. Nobody speaks.
Then Seungkwan, who has apparently materialized from nowhere, says exactly what everyone is thinking.
"Thank god somebody finally said it."
The room erupts. You want the floor to open beneath you. Preferably immediately.
—
Later that night, long after rehearsals end and everyone goes home, Soonyoung sits alone in an empty practice room. The notebook appears again. The same notebook that now contains far too many observations.
Far too many thoughts. Far too many things that should probably stay inside his head. Instead, he uncaps a pen.
And starts writing.
—
[CASE FILE 002]
Today's research findings:
Apparently Y/N and I dance like we're in love.
This conclusion was reached by:
Psychology students
Dance students
Seungkwan
A random professor
One janitor
Current scientific consensus seems concerning.
COUNTER-ARGUMENT
Maybe we're just really good dancers.
COUNTER-COUNTER-ARGUMENT
Nobody believed this.
Not even me.
Additional observation:
Y/N laughed today when I accidentally called a pirouette "spinny spin."
This was the best part of my week.
This information is irrelevant.
Probably.
PERSONAL NOTE
Need to stop noticing things.
Need to stop noticing Y/N.
Need to stop thinking about how safe they looked when they trusted me to catch them.
Research integrity is suffering.
Severely.
K.S
—
By the middle of the semester, the entire project has become a problem. Not because the research is difficult. Not because the rehearsals are exhausting. Not even because every psychology student in the study has apparently developed a personal investment in your relationship status.
The problem is that you have stopped being able to remember what life looked like before Kwon Soonyoung became part of it.
At some point between the blindfold exercises and the synchronization assessments, he had quietly inserted himself into the spaces between your classes, your rehearsals, your study sessions, and your weekends, until looking up and finding him there felt less surprising than looking up and not finding him there at all.
You dislike thinking about this. You dislike it even more when Seungkwan points it out.
"You know he's waiting outside."
You don't look up from your laptop.
"I know."
"You looked through the window before I even finished speaking."
"I did not."
"You absolutely did."
You finally glance toward the café window. Unfortunately, Seungkwan is right. Soonyoung is outside. Waiting.
A takeaway coffee balanced in one hand. His dance bag slung over his shoulder. The bright afternoon sun catches his grin the moment he spots you looking.
He immediately waves. You immediately look away. Across the table, Seungkwan sighs heavily.
"Hopeless."
"We're not dating."
"I didn't say you were."
"You implied it."
"I implied nothing."
"You always imply things."
"Because they're usually true."
Before you can formulate a response, the café door swings open. The source of all your current problems enters.
"Hi."
"Why are you here?"
"I came to get my dance partner."
"So dramatic."
"I learned from the best."
You stare. He grins. Seungkwan looks like he wants to throw himself into traffic.
"Please leave," Seungkwan says.
"No."
"You've become unbearable."
"No."
"You've gotten worse."
"Thank you."
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I choose to accept it as one."
The fact that you laugh is unfortunate. The fact that Soonyoung immediately notices is even worse.
—
The final phase of the project begins two weeks later. Every participating pair is assigned one last task.
A performance. An original duet. The culmination of the entire semester. Months of data collection. Months of observation. Months of increasingly invasive psychological analysis. The presentation slide appears at the front of the room.
FINAL ASSESSMENT: NONVERBAL EMOTIONAL COMMUNICATION THROUGH PARTNERED MOVEMENT
You already hate it. The researcher continues.
"The performance should communicate a clear emotional narrative without spoken dialogue."
Your stomach drops. Beside you, Soonyoung sits up straighter.
"Any emotional narrative?"
"Within reason."
"Define reason."
The researcher immediately ignores him.
"The purpose of this assessment is to evaluate emotional expression, synchronization, and nonverbal communication."
Several students begin writing notes. Several others begin panicking. You fall into the second category. Because emotional communication is one thing. Emotional communication with Soonyoung is another.
The psychology students hand out project guidelines. You scan the document. Then freeze.
PARTNERS MUST CREATE CHOREOGRAPHY COLLABORATIVELY.
Wonderful. Just wonderful. As if spending hours together every week wasn't already becoming dangerous. Now you're expected to build an entire performance together.
—
The first rehearsal goes badly. Not because you disagree. That would actually be easier.
The problem is that you agree too much. Every movement one of you suggests immediately makes sense to the other. Every transition works. Every adjustment improves the piece.
The choreography develops faster than either of you expect. Which means you quickly run out of technical discussions. And begin having personal ones instead.
You hate personal discussions. Unfortunately, Soonyoung likes them.
"What emotion are we starting with?"
You pause. The music continues playing softly through the studio speakers.
"Curiosity."
"Okay."
"So the opening should feel uncertain."
"Like meeting someone."
You glance at him. He doesn't seem to realize what he just said. Or maybe he does. The distinction is becoming increasingly difficult to identify.
"What about the middle section?"
You think for a moment.
"Comfort."
"Comfort?"
"People don't fall in love immediately."
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. Silence follows. Immediate. Dangerous silence. Your pulse jumps. Soonyoung doesn't speak. The music continues. A distant door closes somewhere down the hall. Finally, he clears his throat.
"No."
His voice sounds softer than usual.
"They don't."
Something shifts. Neither of you acknowledge it. Instead, you return to the choreography. Because pretending is easier.
—
The duet begins taking shape. Curiosity becomes familiarity. Familiarity becomes trust. Trust becomes something neither of you are willing to define. The movements grow increasingly intimate.
Not intentionally. At least, that's what you keep telling yourself. The problem is that dance rarely lies.
People do. Words do. Excuses do. Bodies don't.
Every rehearsal leaves you feeling exposed in ways you cannot explain. Especially during one particular section. A section involving eye contact. Prolonged eye contact. The worst kind.
"Five counts."
You immediately shake your head.
"No."
"It's five counts."
"No."
"You literally wrote it."
"I've changed my mind."
"You can't change your mind."
"I absolutely can."
The choreography says otherwise. Unfortunately. You take your positions. The music starts. The sequence unfolds.
Step. Turn. Reach. Closer. Closer. Then—
Eye contact. Five counts.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Something tightens painfully in your chest. Because Soonyoung is looking at you the way he always does lately. Like you're the only thing he's paying attention to. Like he forgot the rest of the room exists.
The music ends. Neither of you move. For a moment. Then Soonyoung steps back. Too quickly. The spell breaks. Again.
The problem is that these moments keep happening. And every time they do, they become harder to ignore.
—
By the week before the presentation, everyone notices. Everyone. Your classmates. The psychology students.
Your professors. Even strangers.
One afternoon, while rehearsing in an open studio, a first-year student walks past. Stops.
Watches for thirty seconds. Then turns to her friend.
"They're definitely dating."
You nearly trip over your own foot. The first-year immediately flees. Coward.
—
The disaster arrives three days later. Because of course it does. You should have expected it. Life has become far too peaceful. The universe was bound to correct itself eventually. The psychology department schedules a preliminary review.
Each pair performs an unfinished version of their duet and explains the emotional narrative behind it.
Simple. Professional. Entirely manageable. At least until it's your turn. You and Soonyoung finish performing.
The room applauds. The researchers look thrilled. Again. One of the faculty supervisors smiles.
"Beautiful work."
"Thank you."
"The emotional progression feels very genuine."
Your stomach twists. The supervisor turns toward Soonyoung.
"How did you approach developing the narrative?"
You watch him think. A mistake. A terrible mistake. Because Soonyoung always tells the truth when he's thinking out loud. Always. Even when he shouldn't.
He scratches the back of his neck. Glances at the choreography notes. Then shrugs.
"I kind of imagined what it'd feel like to fall for your best friend."
The world stops. Immediately. The room goes silent. A researcher drops a pen. Someone coughs. A chair squeaks. You stare at him. He stares at the floor. Realization dawns across his face.
Slowly. Horribly. The supervisor blinks.
"Oh."
Across the room, Seungkwan makes a noise that sounds suspiciously like a scream being strangled. You stand. Instantly. Your chair nearly topples over.
"Y/N—"
You leave before he can finish.
—
The hallway feels too small. Too warm. Too loud. Your pulse pounds against your ribs.
Fall for your best friend.
The words replay endlessly.
Again. Again. Again.
You know he could have meant anything.
The choreography. The narrative. The project. The performance. Any of those explanations would be reasonable.
Yet none of them feel convincing. Not after months of shared rehearsals. Not after every glance.
Every smile. Every late-night conversation. Every moment that felt suspiciously like something more. Footsteps echo behind you.
Fast. Familiar. You don't turn around.
"Y/N."
You keep walking.
"Y/N, wait."
You stop. Eventually. Not because you want to. Because your legs refuse to carry you any farther.
The silence stretches between you. Heavy. Awkward. Uncomfortable. When you finally turn around, Soonyoung looks as miserable as you feel. Neither of you speak immediately.
For once, he doesn't seem to know what to say. The realization frightens you more than anything else.
Because if Kwon Soonyoung has run out of words, something must have gone very, very wrong.
—
[CASE FILE 003]
Emergency update.
Huge problem.
Massive problem.
Catastrophic problem.
Potentially career-ending problem.
Emotionally devastating problem.
Today I accidentally told an entire room of psychology professors that I wrote our choreography based on falling in love with my best friend.
Technically speaking, this is true.
Unfortunately, the best friend in question is Y/N.
Further unfortunately, Y/N was present when I said this.
Additional unfortunately:
Y/N left.
Immediately.
I would like to report that my soul also left.
Current status:
Regret
Panic
More panic
Seungkwan yelling at me
Additional panic
WORKING THEORY
Maybe if I throw myself into the ocean, this situation will resolve itself.
Seungkwan says this is not a solution.
Seungkwan has never appreciated innovation.
FINAL OBSERVATION
I think I've been in love with Y/N for a while.
Long enough that I stopped noticing when it happened.
Long enough that dancing with them stopped feeling like pretending.
Long enough that the choreography became honest without me realizing it.
This seems important.
Unfortunately, I am currently too busy ruining my own life to investigate further.
K.S
—
The problem with leaving dramatically is that eventually you have to stop leaving. Unfortunately, there are only so many places on campus where you can hide before reality catches up to you.
Reality, as it turns out, wears oversized practice clothes and has a tendency to follow you around until you listen.
Three days pass before you speak to Soonyoung properly. Three days of avoided messages. Three days of rehearsals cancelled under increasingly ridiculous excuses. Three days of pretending the final presentation is not rapidly approaching.
The psychology department is unimpressed. The dance department is unimpressed. Your friends are extremely unimpressed.
You are sitting in an empty practice room attempting to ignore seventeen unread messages when the door suddenly opens.
Seungkwan walks in. Looks at you. Looks at the phone in your hand. Then closes the door behind him.
"Oh good."
You immediately know this is going to be unpleasant.
"What?"
"I'm about to say something as your friend."
"No."
"And you're going to hate it."
"No."
"And then you're going to realize I'm right."
"No."
He pulls a chair around and sits backwards on it. The posture of a man preparing for violence. Verbal violence. The worst kind.
"You know he's miserable."
You stare at the floor.
"He'll survive."
"That's not the point."
"He said it in front of everyone."
"Because he's stupid."
You can't argue with that. Unfortunately. Seungkwan notices.
"Exactly."
The silence stretches. Neither of you move. Finally, he sighs.
"You know what the annoying thing is?"
"What?"
"He didn't even realize he'd confessed."
You blink.
"What?"
"He genuinely didn't."
The words settle heavily in your chest. Because that sounds exactly like something Soonyoung would do.
Not plan. Not prepare. Just accidentally tell the truth before realizing what he'd done. Seungkwan shakes his head.
"Nobody should be that emotionally constipated and emotionally honest at the same time."
"That isn't a thing."
"It is when it's him."
Against your better judgement, you laugh. Seungkwan points accusingly.
"There it is."
"What?"
"The reason this entire situation is ridiculous."
You narrow your eyes. He narrows his right back.
"You like him."
You immediately look away. Unfortunately, your silence answers for you. Seungkwan groans.
"Oh my god."
"Stop."
"You actually do."
"Stop."
"You're both unbelievable."
He throws his hands into the air.
"Do you know how annoying you've been?"
"I haven't done anything."
"You've spent months staring at each other."
"We have not."
"You literally choreographed a love story."
"It wasn't—"
"It absolutely was."
You open your mouth. Close it. Open it again. Nothing comes out. Seungkwan stands. Victorious. The worst kind of victorious.
"I hate being right."
"You love being right."
"That's true."
He heads for the door. Then pauses. For a moment, his expression softens.
"If it helps, he's just as scared as you are."
The door closes behind him. Leaving you alone. And with far too much to think about.
—
The next day, you find Soonyoung waiting outside the studio. Of course you do. For a brief moment, neither of you move. Neither of you speak.
Months ago, this silence would have been impossible. Now it feels strangely natural. The familiar shape of him. The familiar weight of his presence. The familiar nervous habit of rubbing the back of his neck.
You know all of them now. Far too well.
"Hi."
His voice is quieter than usual. You hate how relieved you feel hearing it.
"Hi."
The silence returns. Then—
"I'm sorry."
The words come immediately. Before you can speak. Before you can react. Like he's been carrying them around for days.
"I shouldn't have said that in front of everyone."
You swallow.
"So you didn't mean it?"
His head snaps up. The answer arrives so quickly it almost startles you.
"No."
The word hangs between you. Then—
"No, that's not what I mean."
His eyes close briefly.
"See? This is why talking is terrible."
Despite everything, a laugh escapes. Small. Unexpected. His shoulders relax slightly. Just slightly.
"I meant..." He exhales slowly. "I meant I shouldn't have said it like that."
Something shifts. The air feels different. Lighter. More fragile.
"I wasn't supposed to tell you like that."
Your pulse begins climbing. Dangerously.
"What way were you supposed to tell me?"
The question slips out before you can stop it. Soonyoung freezes. Immediately. You watch the realization hit him.
The understanding. The opportunity. The absolute panic.
His eyes widen.
"Oh."
For a moment he genuinely looks like he'd rather perform six consecutive dance showcases than continue this conversation.
Then he laughs softly. Disbelieving. At himself. At the situation. At both of you.
"Honestly?"
You wait.
"I had no plan."
That sounds right. Painfully right. A smile pulls at your mouth.
"So your strategy was to accidentally confess during an academic presentation?"
"Apparently."
"That's terrible."
"I know."
You stare at each other. The distance between you suddenly feels much smaller than before. The months of rehearsals. The study sessions. The coffee runs. The choreography. The trust exercises. Every moment begins stacking together.
One after another. Until neither of you can pretend anymore.
"Soonyoung."
His breath catches. Just slightly.
"Yeah?"
You look directly at him. And decide you're tired. Tired of avoiding. Tired of pretending. Tired of acting like the best part of your week isn't standing beside him.
"I think I started falling for you during the blindfold exercise."
The confession arrives quietly. Without drama. Without fanfare. Without choreography. Yet somehow it feels more terrifying than any performance you've ever given. For one horrifying second, Soonyoung simply stares. Then his entire face changes.
Like sunrise. Like someone switched on every light in the room.
"You did?"
You immediately regret saying anything.
"Don't make me repeat it."
His grin appears. Slowly. Wonderfully.
"You liked me during the blindfold exercise."
"I hate you."
"You trusted me."
"I regret everything."
"You totally trusted me."
You cover your face. Somewhere above you, Soonyoung laughs. The sound is warm. Familiar. Dangerously fond.
When your hands finally lower, he's still smiling. Still looking at you. Like he can't quite believe you're real.
Neither can you.
—
The final presentation arrives three days later. The auditorium is full. Far too full. Faculty members.
Students. Researchers. Friends.
People who absolutely have better things to do than attend a psychology presentation. Yet somehow everyone is here. Especially Seungkwan. Who looks entirely too excited.
The traitor.
Backstage, the nervous energy feels overwhelming. You adjust your costume. Check your shoes. Check them again. Beside you, Soonyoung bounces lightly on his feet.
Anxious. Excited. Both. The familiar sight settles something inside your chest. You reach out. Without thinking.
Your fingers find his.
Immediately. The movement surprises both of you. His eyes widen. Then soften. The smile he gives you is small. Private. Different from the bright ones he shares with everyone else. This one belongs only to you.
"You ready?"
You squeeze his hand.
"Yeah."
And for the first time all semester, you actually mean it.
—
When the music begins, everything else disappears.
The audience. The researchers. The expectations. The nerves.
Gone.
Only the dance remains. The story remains.
The two of you remain.
The choreography no longer feels like acting. Perhaps it never did. Because every moment now carries the truth beneath it.
The curiosity. The friendship. The trust. The affection. The love.
None of it needs translating anymore. You don't have to perform it. You simply have to let it exist. And somehow that makes the dance more beautiful than either of you imagined.
When the final note fades, the silence that follows feels endless. Then applause erupts.
Loud. Immediate. Overwhelming.
Beside you, Soonyoung is breathing hard. Smiling.
Looking happier than you've ever seen him. You realize you're smiling too. Neither of you stop.
—
Later, during the presentation of findings, one of the graduate researchers clears her throat.
"Our study found that strong nonverbal synchronization was often associated with emotional familiarity, trust, and interpersonal attachment."
The audience nods. Notes are taken. Slides advance. Then the researcher smiles. A dangerous smile. The kind that means trouble.
"In one particular partnership, the synchronization scores exceeded every prediction in our original model."
The room begins laughing. Because everyone knows exactly which partnership she's talking about. You bury your face in your hands.
Soonyoung looks delighted. The researcher continues.
"Although the study cannot scientifically prove romantic feelings..."
More laughter.
"...the data certainly suggested something."
The entire auditorium turns toward you. Immediately.
Traitors.
Every single one of them.
Beside you, Soonyoung groans. Then laughs. Then reaches for your hand beneath the table.
And doesn't let go.
—
[CASE FILE 004]
Status update:
Y/N likes me back.
This feels important.
Scientific conclusion:
Mirror neurons are real.
Synchronization is real.
Psychology students are terrifying.
Seungkwan is annoying.
Most important finding:
Apparently dancing like you're in love becomes significantly easier when you actually are.
soonyoung stumbles into the apartment, calling out something you don't quite understand between drunken giggles. jihoon is with him, soonyoung's arm slung around his shoulders as he (a little clearer now that he's not fumbling with his shoes and angling his face away from you) proudly boasts about how much jihoon looooooves him. jihoon's red-faced when he looks at you, mouthing an apology (sorry, he drank a little too much) as though he needs to. he doesn't, really: tonight was soonyoung's birthday dinner with jihoon and seungcheol (the others he has other plans with, scattered about the week), and you've been enjoying a book in his absence, knowing that either you'd see a drunk soonyoung come home or hear from one of his friends if he crashed at their place. as long as he's safe in the end, you're happy to know he'll find his way back to you, always well-fed and so, so loved by his friends.
soonyoung pulls away from jihoon, making his way over to you to steal a quick kiss. "and you loooooove me, too," he giggles, nose scrunching as he plants another kiss onto the top of your head. usually, it's a question, but not tonight. he kisses your cheek before he pulls away, mumbling about how warm his face is as he makes his way into the kitchen.
jihoon's just standing there, watching as his friend loudly goes through every single item in your freezer. "he really loves you, you know."
you do. "he loves you, too, silly." you smile up at jihoon. "you can go. i've got the birthday boy now."
he doesn't leave without a quick side-hug from you and a thanks for looking after him, something he'll pass along to seungcheol as well upon your request since you know jihoon always drops him off second since seungcheol lives closer to his place. you just make your way into the kitchen where soonyoung has gone quiet, just standing with the freezer open in front of him, eyes shut as he just basks in the cold air.
"hi, tiger." your hand finds his all too easily, and he opens his eyes to look at you, already beaming. "let's get you some water and go to bed, hm?"
he doesn't budge right away, brows furrowing together. "is it late?"
"it's a little late, but that's okay." you lean in to peck his lips. "did you enjoy your birthday dinner?"
he nods, and reaches up to pinch your cheeks. "seungcheol says hi." his eyes are gleaming when he giggles at you again. "and he missed arguing over the check with you."
you did, too, to be honest. "next time, then."
he's beaming at that. he sways into you, arms wrapping around you as he embraces you tightly before parroting your words back at you, "next time."
