#kpop bl

[andyareyouokay]

The Tragic Comedy of Jung Jaehyun Pt. 2

non idol!Jaehyun x non idol!Jungwoo, Doyoung x black fem!reader

Minors DNI

Genre: Romance, drama, comedy, slowburn

Word count: 21k

Summary: The plot thickens... sorry I don't have another summary in me but buckle up because Jaehyun is... he's dealing with a lot.

Warnings: Childhood trauma, mentioned homophobia and biphobia, internalized biphobia (to a certain extent), vague mentions of mental health issues, Haechan is a slut, smoking (weed and cigarettes) drinking, mentions of protecting a child from predators.

Author's notes: This... is... a fucking... novel. Sorry to everyone I haven't been yapping with but this is why. I hope this makes up for it. @calibabii21... Girl... come get your man Doyoung before I do. As always, feedback is greatly appreciated.

The alleyway carries the familiar scent of wood shavings and stale kibble, mingling with the sharp, unpleasant tang of old dog piss left behind by careless patrons. It’s a smell that's unique to places near animal shelters or pet stores- earthy and almost comforting, if not for that lingering reminder that some of the regulars have a disconnect that ruins any potential for pleasantries.

You share a cigarette with Donghyuck on your break, his grin sly as he watches you. There’s something brewing behind his pretty eyes and you brace yourself for whatever ridiculous thing he’s about to say.

“You look like a girl I know… I think I can tell you that now,” he says almost too casually. He slips the cigarette between your fingers, smoke curling around his face as he speaks. You watch a line of ants carrying crumbs from your lunch into a crack in the pavement and you brace yourself yet again. He's nowhere near done yet.

Before you can respond, John, the volunteer from the downtown animal shelter, steps out of the back door at the worst possible moment. His timing is impeccable- if Donghyuck had just kept his voice down.

“Dude, you’re still on that CutieButton shit? It’s weird- we get it. They’re built the same. Let it go. That’s fuckin’ workplace harassment, Hyuck. Stop,” John says peevishly.

Your curiosity piques despite the uncomfortable situation. You frown and decide to play along, “Does somebody wanna explain? I’m confused and I feel like I should be uncomfortable.”

John sighs and runs a hand through his hair, “There’s this camgirl- she says she’s from the next city over- and she’s… like… your twin from the neck down but Hyuck over here is being a creep about it. Yeah, I’ve watched her a few times- fine, whatever- but then this guy had to say something and now I feel like a creep every time I see her.”

You chuckle, more amused than you should be and maybe a little excited, “So if he didn’t say anything, you were just gonna keep watching her?”

John holds your gaze for a moment then glances down at the ants, “Well, I- Y/n, you know everyone likes you, right? Kun watches her and the guy who does my tattoos? Ten? Yeah… he watches her too. It’s… a guy thing… We find a woman built like one we’d f- take to bed and we… uh… get off to them. Gross, I know- but it’s no different than you bookmarking all those Soundgasm audios of dudes who sound like those K-pop boys you like.”

Hyuck snorts, “Who is ‘we’? Speak for yourself- I’m a virgin.”

John raises an eyebrow, “I call bullshit on every version of that reality. You’re a certified skank and we all know it, buddy, you take more ass than a fuckin' metro train seat.”

You laugh but hold your ground, stealing the cigarette from Donghyuck and taking a long drag, “You guys are still weird because I don’t think it’s the same, You’re using a visual and I don’t even know those K-pop boys… but you guys know me.”

It’s not a solid hill to die on but you dig your plot and lay down in it just the same. Deep down, though, you know the real truth: this whole situation turns you on in ways you don’t want to admit.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t watch her anymore,” John says and steps closer. He grabs your wrist and guides the cigarette back to his lips. As he takes a drag, his eyes stay locked on yours and he exhales slowly, the smoke drifts just past your face.

Hyuck groans, “Okay, so you called me a skank but what the fuck is all this?”

John smirks, releasing your wrist as he slips back inside, “You’ve got seven minutes left, ladies,” he tosses the words over his shoulder and he’s gone.

Hyuck waits until the door swings shut, then plucks the cigarette from your fingers with a casual nudge. He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a low, conspiratorial murmur, “I know it’s you, mama. Last night, when your camera fell over, I saw your vape. The Bobby Hill one you told me you lost? It’s under your bed. Top left corner.”

You freeze, the distant chatter of barking dogs and the low hum of passing traffic swelling in the silence that follows, “Donghyuck, I-”

“That’s my purse!” he screeches, cutting you off.

“Can you-”

“I don’t know you!”

“Dammit, Hyuck, be serious,” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. He’s such an insufferable little shit sometimes.

Hyuck’s playful smirk softens as he straightens up, meeting your gaze, “I’d never tell, Y/n,” he says, his voice steady now, “You know me better than that. I’m not gonna use it to get in your pants or pull some other weird shit.”

His words hang in the air, and for once, there’s no mischief behind them. It’s honest, and that honesty feels heavier than you expect. You take a slow breath, trying to sort through the tangle of thoughts in your head.

"Why are you telling me this?" You ask cautiously, searching his face for any trace of his usual fuckery.

Hyuck shrugs, a faint, almost wistful smile brushing his lips, "Because you looked scared for a second and I don’t want you to be. Not of me… God forbid, right?"

He stubs out the cigarette against the brick wall, the ember fizzling out in the cool night air. Turning away, he spits down the alley before facing you again. His gaze lingers, holding yours with an intensity you can’t quite name. There’s something unspoken flickering behind his expression- something playful and coquettish.

"I’m listening," you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper but he hears it.

For a moment, he hesitates, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Then he exhales, the sound is shaky and you know he’s choosing his next words with care. 

“It wouldn’t be much fun getting you in my bed if it was transactional,” Hyuck says slowly, “This whole setup is already transactional enough, don’t you think? I get to watch you… I send you money… and you get to stand there and pretend it doesn’t feel a little hot knowing that I know,” he pauses, letting the words hang heavy in the air before continuing, “Knowing that John and his tattoo buddy both watch you…”

He steps closer, his presence filling the space between you, “And Kun watches you… Jeno watches you…” His voice drops even lower, almost conspiratorial now, “Even that Bible-thumping Mark Lee- who’s still trying to get my ass into one of the pews at his uncle’s church- watches you.”

Hyuck tilts his head slightly, his expression daring, “That’s why he can’t look you in the eye, y’know... And if you didn’t know… now you do.”

You look at Hyuck and shrug, “I- my vape? Hyuck, what the fuck are you on?”

“Cocaine.”

You shake your head, “Hyuck, are you serious or are you being a fucking idiot again?” You ask him nervously. Hyuck smiles, “I’m not doing that shit anymore. I’m cool with the weed… Just couldn’t help myself.”

You roll your eyes, “Yeah well you not being able to help yourself is why your ass almost got hooked on that shit in the first place- that’s not funny.”

Hyuck rolls his eyes too, “I needed to pull you out of your own head somehow. I made you forget that you wanna make out so… Thank me or shut up,” he chuckles. 

You’d be a liar if you said Hyuck isn’t pretty… and captivating and charmingly devilish… and a pervert. He’s a lot of things but he’s respectful- most of the time and when he isn’t, it’s only because his eyes give him away. You like it though.

“Thank you,” You say softly. Hyuck smiles and steps closer to you, he eyes you for a moment as if he’s waiting for you to close the gap. You do and he backs you against the wall, as his lips move against yours and his hands cradle your face, he strokes his tongue against yours then pulls back just enough to ghost his lips over own needy lips, “M’not looking for a commitment… Just wanna play with you until you stop being a chicken shit and shoot your shot at Doyoung.”

“Yeah… I uh… Am I that obvious?” You ask against his lips. Hyuck hums, “Not really but you’re all over him and I noticed that he’s the only one you hug over the shoulders and as affectionate as you are, I’ve never seen you let anyone else rest their head on your tits… Just him… Well, you let Woo do it but he's practically one of the girls so he doesn’t count.”

You exhale, “You’re like a fucking cracked up Columbo,” You mumble and when Hyuck brings his right hand down to circle around your throat, your pulse hammers, “You’re gonna come back to my place after you close up. How you get past your boys is up to you but you’re a smart little girl so I’m not worried about it.”

You want him now but it’s too risky and even your exhibitionism has boundaries. He kisses you again, this time even more salaciously, “Make sure you go home and pack an overnight bag. Now go on, little worker bee… I’m not into quickies.”

~

After your shift, Jaehyun locks the back door and you do the rounds one last time. “Doyoung’s on his way back to help Woo but I’m heading home. Barely slept- I’m tired and I’ve looked at you bitches enough for one day,” you say, checking off the wellness rounds on a clipboard behind the counter.

Jaehyun chuckles, his exhaustion showing in the slump of his shoulders, “Alright, get outta here, crybaby. Text us when you’re home and you better fuckin’ eat,” he says, wagging a finger at you.

You wrap your arms around his waist for a hug, feeling the tension still radiating from him. Donghyuck’s earlier observation about you crosses your mind and it’s uncomfortably accurate, “You make sure you eat and get some rest too, Jae. You worked hard today,” you tell him softly.

Jaehyun lingers in your hold for a moment before pulling away, “You too… Yeah, you too,” he replies, his voice quieter.

“You okay?” you ask, catching the shadow behind his tired smile.

“Yeah, just tired. It’s been a day and a half, girl. Go on, text us when you’re home,” he says, busying himself with something at the register. You can tell he’s deflecting. Doyoung always says Jaehyun should be better at deflecting since he does it so much but he truly sucks at it.

You hesitate but let it go, slipping into the office to grab your things. Jungwoo is at the desk in the corner, already working on the bookkeeping.

“You’re still here, cutie pie?” he asks, his voice slow with exhaustion as he sips his coffee.

“Yeah but I’m leaving now. Please don’t overwork yourself, Woo. Doyoung’s on his way- just rest until he gets here,” you say, fluffing his hair affectionately.

Jungwoo leans into your touch as he smiles faintly, “Just wanna get it done. I don’t wanna have to come back tomorrow. I need Sunday off for once- just wanna sleep in.”

You nod, “Alright, well… I love you, Woo-Boo,” you say, leaning down to kiss the top of his head.

“I love you too,” he replies, his smile warm but weary.

As you turn to leave, he catches your wrist, “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“Of course. What’s up?”

Jungwoo hesitates, staring at the desk for a moment before looking up at you with a weary pout, “Actually… I’m too tired. I won’t make much sense if I try to say it now. We’ll talk when my head’s clear. Go home, I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whisper, pulling him into a tight hug. He holds on a little longer than usual, silently telling you something’s wrong, but you know better than to press too much but you can’t help yourself, “Are you sure, Woo?”

He holds onto you a little longer; silently telling you that he isn't, “Yeah… I promise,” he whispers and gives you one last squeeze before letting you go and shooing you out of the office.

As you walk to your car, you briefly entertain the idea of standing Donghyuck up but you know you won’t. With a sigh, you drive home, sending Jaehyun and Jungwoo a quick text to let them know you’ve arrived safely. You shoot Hyuck a message as well, letting him know you’ll be on your way soon. After packing your overnight essentials into your favorite oversized tote, you set out for the night.

Donghyuck’s brownstone is a short drive from your lofty apartment.

The thing about his three-story brownstone is that it’s more than just a home- it’s a legacy. Owned and paid off by his late grandparents, it’s a source of pride for him, though he’s never boastful. Your friends are a little envious but Hyuck keeps it in perspective. He’s generous with the space, offering his spare rooms to friends who need a breather from chaotic roommates. But his generosity has limits; no one stays permanently.

Turning onto the narrow street, you park a few houses down. After killing the engine, you sit in silence for a moment, steadying your nerves. Finally, you gather yourself and text Hyuck to let him know you’re outside.

Stepping out of your car, you walk down the row of homes, your eyes scanning the stoops until you see him step outside. He’s subtle in his choice of pajamas- black sweatpants and a matching t-shirt- casual but intentional, and you appreciate the effort. His horn-rimmed glasses replace his usual contacts, and the shadow of stubble on his jaw adds an edge to his otherwise soft features. You catch yourself staring, the thought of kissing that shadowed jawline creeping into your mind but you quickly reel yourself in.

Hyuck greets you with an easy smile as you ascend the stairs, “I’m genuinely surprised you showed up, mama,” he teases, leading you into the vestibule and shutting the door behind you, “I guess my pitch was pretty good. I ordered takeout… You’re usual… Get yourself settled, c'mon.”

“I feel like a fucking hooker,” you sigh hesitantly, “I feel like I should go- should I go?”

Hyuck smirks, crouching down to unlace your sneakers, “You should do whatever you want,” he hums, glancing up at you, “But if you’re asking me? I’d be stupid to say yes. C’mon, mama, shoes off.”

Your stomach tightens as his bedroom eyes lock onto yours. They’re a staple of his pretty face and you find yourself teetering on the edge of surrendering right then and there. You bite your lip, watching as he slips your shoes off with ease before taking your bag from your shoulder and gently leading you into the foyer.

“It’s just been a while…” you mumble as you look him square in his eyes for the first time tonight, “I think it’s just my nerves.”

“I get that,” he says softly as he tosses your bag over his shoulder.

You already know your way around Hyuck’s home but his presence is different tonight. After leading you to his room, he pulls the curtains shut and flops onto the bed, “So… what kinda jammies did you bring?”

You pull a silk nightie out of your bag, holding it up for him to see. Hyuck props himself up on one elbow, his lips curling into a grin, “That’s cute. Did you pick that one for me, mama?” His fingers comb through his hair, the casual movement somehow maddeningly attractive.

You fight the urge to roll your eyes, though you know he’s right. You did pick it out for him- not for any deep reason but because you knew he’d eat it up.

“What was I supposed to do? Pull up in sweatpants and an old t-shirt?” You laugh.

“Wouldn’t have mattered. You always look good,” he says, “But I do like the extra pizzazz. I’m looking forward to getting that off you.”

You chuckle as you shake your head at him, “You don’t have the patience to hold out for that long.”

Hyuck’s smirk widens, his eyes meeting yours in a silent challenge, “You have no idea how long I can hold out. I bet you'll tire out before I do.”

The doorbell rings and Hyuck gets up with a sigh, “I’ll get that. You can get changed and I’ll find something for us to watch while we eat.”

“Yeah, that sounds good,” you reply, watching him leave before slipping into your nightie and matching silk robe.

You wander into his bathroom, stealing a moment to preen in the mirror. You turn and little and examine yourself with a critical eye before nodding in approval. You look amazing.

You wander down into the living room and stand quietly as you watch him set out cardboard food containers, chopsticks, and pop open a bottle of wine.

You sigh loud enough to let him know you're there.

“Okay, dinner is served, wine is ready, and…” His voice trails off as turns to you. His eyes sweep over you, his gaze holding you in place effortlessly, “You look… shit, Y/n, you look good.”

You smile, feigning nonchalance, “How good?”

Hyuck steps closer, his arms circling around your waist. His breath brushes your ear as he murmurs, “You know how good you look. Do you really need me to tell you?”

“Yes,” you whisper, your voice teasing him mercilessly, “I actually do.”

Hyuck’s fingers tighten slightly around your waist as he lets out a soft chuckle, “Alright, mama. You look stunning…breathtaking, gorgeous… Good enough to use as a meal replacement,” his lips brush lightly against the side of your neck and you feel your skin heat under his touch.

“Stop,” you say as you fight a smile.

“Stop?” he echoes, his voice is dripping with mock innocence as he leans back just enough to meet your eyes in the mirror, “That didn’t sound very convincing… Try again.”

You roll your eyes, turning to face him and putting a little space between you, “Food first,” you say firmly, giving him a light shove toward the sofa, “We’re not skipping dinner just because you’re feeling extra charming tonight.”

Hyuck laughs, his grin boyish and disarming, “Fine, fine. You win. For now.”

He guides you to the sofa, his hand lingering at the small of your back before he sits you down. The mouthwatering aroma of your favorite dishes fills the room as he takes a seat beside you, close enough to keep the air between you charged but with just enough space to eat comfortably.

“But don’t think you’re off the hook, mama,” he teases, pouring you a glass of wine and passing it over, “You’re just making this harder for yourself.”

“I look forward to it,” you hum, reclining against the cushions as you take a small sip.

Donghyuck taps his glass to yours, “To temperance,” he chortles.

Doyoung steals a quick glance at Y/N as she drops loose change into the tip jar. They never keep the tips- they save them up and donate them to the animal shelter at the end of each month. It was Doyoung’s idea and even now, he feels a quiet pride every time he thinks about it.

“Y/N, can we go somewhere again? Just the two of us?” he asks softly.

This time, he’s going to tell her. He’s tired of holding back, of pushing down that feeling that bubbles up whenever she’s near- the one that settles into bones to whisper softly that she wants him too. He’s done ignoring it. Tonight, he’ll tell her she’s everything he’s ever wanted since the day he met her.

Doyoung’s spent his whole life struggling with relationships, with cues he’s always been too unsure to read. His father used to tell him that girls were only nice to him because he was tall and good-looking, but that without those things, the only emotion they’d feel for him was pity.

That belief had followed him like a shadow and when he met Y/N, it loomed even larger. She was gentle, caring, and so kind it almost hurt. He couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was rooted in pity. But her eyes... her eyes never held pity for him. They were warm, sweet, and honest.

Still, he could never quite shake the thought that maybe she hid it well.

Doyoung swallows hard, his fingers curling against the counter as he waits for her answer. He’s rehearsed this moment in his head a hundred times but no version of it feels safe. What if he’s wrong? What if he ruins everything?

“Sure,” Y/N replies, smiling as she gathers her things, “Where are we going this time?”

Her voice is light, easy, like she doesn’t even notice the war raging in his chest.

“Anywhere you want,” Doyoung says, managing to keep his tone strong, “It doesn’t matter. I just… I just want to spend time with you.”

She pauses, glancing up at him, and for a second, he wonders if she can tell. If she sees the way his shoulders tense, the way his eyes linger on her face like he’s committing every detail to memory.

“That sounds nice,” she says finally and Doyoung exhales, relief and anticipation twisting together in his chest.

The car ride is quiet but it’s the kind of quiet Doyoung doesn’t mind. Y/N hums softly along to the music playing through the speakers, her fingers tapping lightly against her thigh. He steals glances at her when he thinks she’s not looking, his eyes linger on the curve of her smile and the way the city lights catch in her eyes.

He drives aimlessly, his mind races as he searches for the right words. They’ve been friends for so long and the thought of losing her terrifies him but every second he spends with his tugs on his heart mercilessly.

When they finally reach the beach, Doyoung backs into a spot along the front row and climbs out, lowering the back seats through the trunk. They crawl in together, sitting in comfortable silence as the warm breeze floats through the open windows, carrying the sharp tang of salt and faint traces of fish from the nearby pier.

“It’s beautiful here,” she says, her voice soft as her eyes scan the horizon.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, but his eyes aren't on the view.

They’re on her- just like they always are.

“Why do we always end up here?” she asks after a moment, her tone curious but gentle.

Doyoung shrugs, tearing his eyes away, “We don’t always end up here… we go to the movies and do other things…”

Her smile widens, mischief flickering in her expression. He knows she’s about to tease him.

“Things like what?” she asks playfully.

He opens his mouth, then frowns, “Nothing… Shit. Y/N, are we getting old? We’re getting boring.”

She laughs and shoves him lightly, “I think we are. We need to plan a road trip or something. There’s moss growing under our feet and I don’t think I like that very much.”

He nods, leaning back, “Give me a month and I’ll have it all planned. We’ll get someone to man the store and we’ll go run over hot coals or smoke pipes with old ladies or something.”

She grins but her next words are quieter, “Who said it had to be everyone? Why don’t we just go alone?”

“Alone?”

“Uh-huh,” she says lightly, “Jae-Jae and Woo have their little day trips and whatnot all the time and nobody ever says anything about that.”

“You know why we don’t talk about that, Y/N,” he says, a hint of bashfulness creeping into his voice.

“Do I?” she counters, her brow quirking, “I mean, I know why I don’t talk about it but I don’t know why you don’t.”

Doyoung’s lips twitch into a small smile, “Tell me why you don’t and I’ll see where we meet.”

She presses her lips together, glancing at him thoughtfully, “Whatever we say doesn’t leave this car.”

“Let it leave the car and the waves can carry it out,” he replies softly.

She laughs, shifting to face him fully. Resting her head against the seat, her gaze locks on his, “English major Kim… but what if the waves bring it all back?”

“They won’t,” he whispers.

She studies him for a moment, her smile softening as the ocean breeze sweeps through the car, “You’re so sure about that,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

Doyoung meets her gaze, “Yeah, I am.”

She leans back, letting the hum of the waves and the faint cries of seagulls fill the space between them, “I don’t talk about it because… I don’t wanna to ruin it,” she says finally, “Whatever it is. You know… between them.”

Doyoung nods slowly, his fingers drumming against his thighs. “Yeah… Sometimes I think if we acknowledge it too much, it’ll fall apart or something… Jungwoo’s holding it together with both hands and he’s waiting for Jaehyun to pick up the glue but he won’t.”

“Why do you think he won’t?”

“He’s scared.”

“Like you?”

Doyoung’s eyes flick toward her, a small smile tugging at his lips, “You think I’m scared?”

She shrugs, looking back at him, “Not scared-scared. Just… cautious.”

He doesn’t answer right away. Instead, he looks past her, out to where the sun begins its slow descent toward the ocean, staining the water in shades of gold and pink, “Maybe I am,” he says eventually, “But that’s not always a bad thing.”

“Sometimes it is,” she counters softly.

He turns back to her, his expression unreadable, “You really want me to say it first?”

Her smile falters, just for a second, “I don’t know,” she admits.

Doyoung nods, letting the answer hang in the air between them. He pulls his knees up to his chin, his focus still on her, “When I do say it,” he begins, his voice quiet but firm, “it can’t be something we leave for the waves to take away.”

Y/n blinks, caught off guard by his honesty, “What are you saying, Doyoung?”

He looks at her fully now, his gaze unwavering, “I’m saying I want it to matter. When I say it, I want it to be something we both hold onto.”

She doesn’t reply right away, her heart suddenly thudding louder than the waves in the background, “Okay,” she finally whispers.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of the ocean and the warmth of the fading sunlight.

Doyoung hesitates for a moment, then turns to Y/n, “If I did tell you that I love you, would you want to hold onto that?”

“Of course I would… What would make this one any different from the other times you’ve ever said it to me?” she asks quietly.

Doyoung’s heart cracks just a little because, as always, she second-guesses everything. His chest tightens and for a moment, he looks down, gathering the courage to push through, “Nothing… Because it’s not friendly. It’s never been friendly. It’s not just, ‘Call me when you get home.’ It’s… it’s ‘Call me when you’re on your way home so I can make sure I have tea waiting for you.’”

Her smile fades slightly, replaced by something softer, something that roots itself deeper in the moment as he continues.

“It’s the fifteen letters I’ve written over the years,” he admits, his voice trembling, “Letters telling you that the best version of me- the one I love- is the person I am when I’m with you,” He swallows hard, forcing himself to hold her gaze.

“And it’s the fact that… I’ve felt safe around you for as long as I’ve known you. You’ve always been my place to land,” His voice trembles as he struggles to keep his emotions in check, “I’ll never find the words to tell you how much I love you, but God, Y/n…” His voice breaks and he exhales shakily, “I carry you with me everywhere.”

Her eyes glisten with unshed tears, a mixture of disbelief and overwhelming emotion filling her gaze. Before he can say anything else, she closes the space between them, her hand finding his face- warm, steady, and grounding, “I love you too, Doyoung,” she whispers, her voice cracking under the weight of her confession, “I always have. Always.”

Doyoung’s breath catches as her words sink in and a soft, almost incredulous smile graces his lips. He moves closer, his arms encircling her gently but securely, as if afraid she might disappear. She tilts her head up to meet his gaze, her smile radiant and full of relief.

Unable to hold back any longer, he leans in and gingerly presses his lips to hers. The kiss is tender, a culmination of years of unspoken emotions and longing. For a moment, the world fades away, leaving only the two of them- wrapped in the warmth of a love that had always been there, quietly waiting to be claimed.

Jaehyun notices the way Y/n seem to gravitate towards Doyoung tonight, leaning just a little closer, her hand brushing his when she laughs. It’s subtle- so subtle he wonders if he’s imagining it but it’s there, like the pull of two magnets too close to resist.

He tries to focus on the chatter around him, the warmth of the ramen shop buzzing with energy. The place just opened around the corner from their building and it’s already becoming a regular spot for the group.

Tonight, though, Doyoung is drunk. Unabashedly so. For once, he’s let go of his usual role as the sober buddy and Jaehyun isn’t sure if it’s endearing or dangerous.

“You’re such a fucking old lady- mint julep?” Jungwoo teases, his grin is wide and mischievous.

Doyoung scoffs, “You’re drinking a fucking hot toddy and you wanna play booze police?”

“This is not a hottie toddy,” Jungwoo protests, feigning offense, “Jae-Jae could make a better one in his sleep!”

Jaehyun chuckles, shaking his head at their exchange but inside, there’s a tug- a familiar ache that surfaces whenever he catches moments like this. Jungwoo’s casual use of his nickname, Doyoung’s sharp wit softened by alcohol, and the way Doyoung’s name rolls off of Y/n's tongue. 

He could so easily grab both of them by their collars, pull them close, and just say it. Say the words that have been lodged in his chest for longer than he cares to admit:

“What the fuck is up with you two?”

Instead, he smiles, leaning back against his chair like he’s perfectly fine but he isn't and his hands fidget under the table, betraying him.

Jungwoo nudges him with an elbow, pulling him out of his thoughts, “Hey, Jae, you okay?”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun says quickly, his smile tightening, “Just thinking.”

Jungwoo raises an eyebrow, unconvinced but doesn’t press.

Meanwhile, Doyoung’s laugh cuts through the air, a little too loudly but undeniably charming. Jaehyun glances at him, then at her and that ache flares up again.

He doesn’t know what’s worse- the fact that he feels it or the fear that he might not be the only one.

Jungwoo’s attention shifts back to Doyoung, sparing Jaehyun for a moment but it doesn’t help much. If anything, it only gives him more space to stew. He watches as Doyoung leans over to her, his hand brushing hers on the table like it’s second nature.

She laughs at something he says, a genuine sound that lights up her whole face and Jaehyun feels his stomach twist.

“So… are you guys gonna tell us what’s going on or what?” Jungwoo’s voice cuts through the air, clear and direct. Jaehyun blinks, visibly startled to realize he’s not the only one who’s noticed the shift- the barely-there truth their drunken bodies can’t quite keep hidden.

“What?” Doyoung asks, his words slightly slurred, his head tilting in confusion.

Jungwoo gestures vaguely between the two of them, “You’ve been all… I don’t know, weirdly close lately. Like, even more than usual. Are you finally dating or are you just teasing us?”

Y/n's eyes widen and she sits up straighter, glancing at Doyoung, who suddenly looks very sober.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Doyoung says his and his attempt at sounding indignant falls painfully flat. Instead, he just sounds drunk- and very guilty.

“Oh, come on,” Jungwoo groans, “You’re practically glued to each other. It’s obvious.”

Jaehyun feels like the air has been knocked out of his lungs. He forces a laugh, trying to deflect, “You’re imagining things, Woo. They’ve always been like that.”

“Exactly,” you say quickly, your voice a little higher than usual, “Nothing’s changed.”

But something has changed. Jaehyun knows it, feels it in his bones. He watches as Doyoung shifts in his seat, his hand brushing through his hair in a nervous gesture Jaehyun has seen a hundred times.

“Okay, fine,” Jungwoo says, holding his hands up in mock surrender, “I’m just saying, if something’s going on, you don’t have to keep it a secret. We’d be happy for you. Right, Jae?”

Jaehyun nods stiffly, his throat too tight to speak.

Doyoung’s eyes flick to him and for a split second, Jaehyun wonders if he’s going to say something. If he’s going to make a joke or brush it off or- God forbid- confirm Jungwoo’s suspicions.

But instead, Doyoung sighs, leaning back in his chair, “You’re drunk,” he says, waving a hand dismissively, “Go back to your toddy or whatever the hell you’re drinking.”

Jungwoo shakes his head clumsily, a lopsided grin on his face, “Hottie. Fuckin’. Toddy, Doyoung- say it with me- hottie toddy,” he enunciates slowly, drawing out each syllable like he’s teaching a child to read.

Jaehyun exhales quietly, relief settling in his chest but tinged with something else- something heavier. The tension still lingers, clinging to the air like smoke, thick and inescapable. He takes another sip of his whiskey sour, hoping for distraction, but the drink isn’t sour enough, its flavor too muted to cut through his unease.

His mind drifts instead, unintentionally almost, back to the night Jungwoo had sauntered over, bold and radiant, and ordered his drink- loud, wrong, and yet somehow, achingly beautiful.

“...Yeah… a… hottie toddy…” Jaehyun had said after he realized Jungwoo wasn’t joking. He still remembers biting back a grin as he mixed the drink, sliding it across the counter with a playful stare, “One hottie toddy, just for you.”

Jungwoo had lit up like the neon signs in the bar’s window, his smile so infectious that Jaehyun couldn’t help but laugh. That was the beginning of their relationship- a bizarre request for a drink and an exchange of playful glances that somehow felt like they’d known each other forever.

“Because,” Jungwoo says now, snapping Jaehyun out of his memory, “it is a hottie toddy. Hot toddies are boring but hottie toddies are made with love... and extra honey- Isn’t that right, Jae-Jae?”

Jaehyun chuckles softly, shaking his head. “I just didn’t have the heart to tell you that you were wrong, Woo... and honestly, you looked like you had a sweet tooth, so I gave you extra honey.”

“How do you look like you have a sweet tooth?” Y/n wheezes before pointing at Jungwoo, “Woo, he’s calling you a twink!”

Jungwoo gasps dramatically, clutching his chest, “A twink? Jaehyun, how dare you!”

Jaehyun laughs, holding up his hands in surrender, “I- when did I say that? You’re just... sweet… looking. That’s all.”

Jungwoo narrows his eyes, lips twitching as he tries to suppress a grin, “Sweet looking, huh? Sounds a lot like you’re accusing me of twinkery.”

“Twinkery?” Jaehyun scoffs, “Okay, I’m done here.”

“Like I said- hottie toddies are made with love and extra honey,” Jungwoo hums as he settles back into his seat. He sits a little closer to Jaehyun, rocking into him playfully.

“I told the staff about it. I wanted them to know what the hell you were talking about if I wasn’t there an-“

“I never ordered my drinks from anyone else. If you weren’t there, I left.”

Jungwoo’s words land like a quiet confession and Jaehyun feels his chest tighten, the sound of clinking bowls and muted chatter around them fading into the background. For a moment, it’s just the two of them, Jungwoo’s enamored gaze meeting Jaehyun’s almost bewildered one.

“You never told me that,” Jaehyun says. His voice is low and careful, meant only for Jungwoo to hear.

Jungwoo shrugs and his fingers fidget with the edge of his napkin, “Didn’t seem important at the time. I just… liked that it was you. It felt like our thing, you know?”

Jaehyun swallows as he tries to ignore the warmth rising to his face, “Yeah?”

Jungwoo nods, his lips curving into a soft, almost shy smile.

Across the table, Doyoung, buzzed and ever-observant, narrows his eyes, “Wait a second. Are you two seriously flying off together over Jaehyun’s college bartending skills?”

“It’s not just bartending,” Jungwoo replies, snapping the tension with a playful grin. His tone is teasing but there’s a hint of sincerity in his words, “You wouldn’t get it, Do. There’s an art to a hottie toddy.”

“Woo,” Doyoung groans, exasperated, “It’s hot toddy- and it’s literally tea, whiskey, and maybe a cinnamon stick or two if you’re fancy.”

“It’s different when Jae-Jae makes it,” Jungwoo quips, nudging Jaehyun with his elbow.

Jaehyun chuckles but the laugh feels hollow as he shifts uncomfortably under Doyoung’s pointed gaze, “It’s not that deep,” he says quickly, twirling his chopsticks to avoid eye contact, “It was just a drink.”

“Was it, though?” Jungwoo presses, his grin widening, though the question carries more weight than it should.

Jaehyun glances at him, something unspoken passing between them before he murmurs an inaudible, “I guess not.”

Doyoung raises a brow, clearly unconvinced, “You two are funny,” he mutters, pushing back from his seat to stretch.

Jungwoo leans in, his voice dropping to a whisper, “You really think it was just a drink?”

Jaehyun’s hand tightens around his chopsticks, his throat dry, “You know it wasn’t… It never was.”

Jungwoo smirks, the light in his eyes playful yet knowing, “Good. Just making sure.”

Jaehyun huffs a quiet laugh, his nerves threatening to unravel, “You’re impossible, Woo.”

“And you love me,” Jungwoo fires back, leaning back in his chair.

“Of course I do,” Jaehyun says more to himself but Jungwoo hears him just the same and he sits up a little straighter.

The warmth of the memory is a brief distraction from the tension that still simmers under the surface. Jaehyun’s eyes drift back to you and Doyoung, who are now arguing over which ramen toppings are superior.

“Cheese doesn’t belong in ramen,” Doyoung says firmly, waving his chopsticks for emphasis.

“Excuse me but cheese is elite,” you argue, narrowing your eyes at him.

“It’s fuckin’ nasty,” Doyoung counters, leaning closer to you as if that’ll make his point more valid, “It’s… that’s white people shit, Y/n, do better.”

“What about salmon patties? You put those in your ramen at home,” she fires back, a teasing smirk playing on her pretty lips. Jaehyun watches as Doyoung falters, his protest catching on the grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. His expression softens, his eyes locking onto hers with a warmth so open, so unguarded, that it says everything he fights to keep hidden. He’s in love with her- it’s written in the way he looks at her, like she’s the only thing worth seeing, like he’s memorizing her features as if they might vanish before he gets his fill. It’s all there, in the longing that lingers between them, a tension he’s too careful to name.

“Yes- at home. That’s the keyword, sweetheart. I’m not gonna ask for it in a restaurant!” Doyoung finally counters, his exasperation softened by the way his voice dips when he calls her sweetheart. The word isn’t tossed out casually; it’s intentional, almost reverent, like it’s been crafted just for her. There’s nothing mocking about it, nothing playful or dismissive. It’s raw, affectionate, sounding more like a product of his poet’s mind rather than a word that's been around longer than any of them.

The sound of it twists something deep in Jaehyun’s gut. It’s not jealousy- not exactly- but it’s unsettling in a way he doesn’t like. Watching them feels voyeuristic, like he's stumbled upon a private moment he was never meant to see. Their ribbing isn’t just casual; it’s intuitive, threaded with an unspoken intimacy. Every glance, every word exchanged feels as if it's all loaded with years of shared history- inside jokes, arguments, moments that don’t need explaining.

Jaehyun feels like an outsider, lingering just beyond the glow of their connection. It’s not just familiarity he’s witnessing- it’s inevitability. Their bond is seamless, an unbreakable thread that ties them together in a way that’s impossible to ignore.

The realization gnaws at him because, deep down, he knows it’s true. They fit together in a way no one else ever could, as if the universe had placed them on a collision course long before God or creation had introduced the burden- and gift- of time.

He doesn’t know if he believes in God anymore but if there is one, He must have had a steady hand when He crafted them. Jaehyun imagines Him sitting high above, weaving their souls together with divine precision. They are everything Adam and Eve were supposed to be- equal and complementary halves of a whole, written into each other’s stories with a purpose no one else can touch or rewrite.

Jungwoo nudges him, breaking his thoughts. “Hey, you okay?”

Jaehyun forces a smile, nodding quickly. “Yeah, just tired.”

Jungwoo studies him for a moment, his expression skeptical but eventually turns back to the conversation about ramen.

Jaehyun, however, can’t shake the feeling that something fundamental is shifting. The ground beneath him feels unsteady, as if everything he thought was solid is wasting away, and there isn’t a damn thing he can do to stop it.

Jaehyun doesn’t mark Y/n late, even though her break ended an hour ago. She’ll walk back in eventually, flashing that pretty smile and giving him that look- the one that makes him fold every single time.

“She’s with Jungwoo, so God only knows where they are right now. Probably doing something stupid,” he mutters under his breath.

Doyoung sits behind the counter, flipping through a home goods catalog Y/n left behind. He doesn’t even bother looking up as he sighs, “Calm down. They’ll be back.”

Jaehyun taps his fingers against the counter, a steady rhythm of irritation that betrays his attempt at patience. His gaze shifts to Doyoung, who seems unbothered as he turns another page. Jaehyun leans over to see what’s caught his attention- a satin lingerie set.

“Who you pickin’ that out for?” Jaehyun asks, trying to sound casual.

Doyoung sighs and deadpans, “Your mom.”

The delivery is so dry and precise that Jaehyun snorts despite himself. It’s their thing, this “your mom” banter—part joke, part unspoken acknowledgment of shared wounds. Doyoung’s humor is sharp, a defense mechanism carved out of years of longing for a love he never received. Somehow, it lands perfectly between them.

Jaehyun shakes his head, grinning, “You’ve got issues.”

Doyoung doesn’t miss a beat, flipping another page, “My brother in Christ… you of all people would know.”

“You know my mom doesn’t like you. Says you look like a girl when you grow your hair out,” Jaehyun teases, chuckling.

Doyoung chuckles too, “Okay, but you guys already said I look like a bad bitch when I’m dodging haircuts, so I focus on the truth.”

Before Jaehyun can respond, the door swings open and Y/n bursts in, Jungwoo trailing behind her, “We got tattoos!” she announces, her voice bubbling with excitement.

Jaehyun sighs, already half-smiling because she’s glowing in that way that makes it impossible for him to stay annoyed, “You were supposed to be back an hour ago and you were off getting tattoos?” he asks incredulously.

“I run the store. I gave her permission so hop off our asses,” Jungwoo scoffs, tugging down his shirt to reveal his collarbone.

Jaehyun steps closer, his eyes catching on the small tattoo there: three stick men and one stick woman, each holding a balloon with their initials inside. His gaze lingers a moment longer, flickering to the faint mark he’d left on Jungwoo’s neck the night before.

“Is this an exclusive thing or…” Jaehyun asks, his tone light but his expression curious.

“No! They’re best friend tattoos!” Y/n says, eagerly pulling down the collar of her shirt to reveal the same design on her own skin.

Jaehyun looks back at Jungwoo, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “I want one,” he says quickly, his voice tinged with something deeper.

“I don’t,” Doyoung pipes up dismissively.

“Oh, come on… please, Doie? Besides… it’ll cover up that scar from where George bit you,” Y/n says, giving him her best puppy dog eyes.

Doyoung sighs heavily, “Fuck… fine.”

“Let’s close up early. Nobody’s coming in,” Jungwoo says as he moves behind the counter.

“You sure?” Jaehyun asks.

Jungwoo nods.

And so they do. The four of them clean up the store, clock out, and lock up for the evening.

Jaehyun takes Jungwoo in his car, while Y/n drives Doyoung in hers.

“They’ve been a little closer than usual,” Jaehyun mutters as he follows Y/n’s car. He watches her chatting animatedly with Doyoung, who reaches over to playfully pat her head.

“Yeah… so?” Jungwoo responds flatly.

“You don’t… think that’s weird?” Jaehyun presses.

“Nope,” Jungwoo replies curtly.

“They’re so fuckin’... touchy,” Jaehyun continues, unable to shake the tension in his chest.

“Okay… I don’t know what you want me to say about that, Jae-Jae. I literally play with their asses so I don't know what you expect me of all people to say,” Jungwoo’s tone remains casual but he's obviously refusing to indulge Jaehyun, “I know we keep enough from them so maybe you should mind your business.”

Jaehyun’s jaw flexes but he doesn’t reply immediately. The weight of Jungwoo’s words settles uncomfortably in his chest. He knows Jungwoo isn’t wrong- they do keep things from them. Things that are messy, unresolved, and better left unspoken but that doesn’t stop the frustration from simmering under his skin.

“Mind my business?” Jaehyun finally says, his tone tight  “You don’t think it’s weird? How close they’ve gotten? How they look at each other?”

Jungwoo raises an eyebrow, his calm demeanor unwavering, “No, Jae. You know why? Because it’s none of my business- and it’s none of yours either.”

Jaehyun glances at him sharply but Jungwoo doesn’t back down.

“Things change. People change,” Jungwoo continues, shrugging, “You’re just noticing it now because… well, I don’t know… Maybe you’re bored. Or maybe you’re jealous.”

Jaehyun scoffs, his pride flaring, “Jealous? Of Doyoung? Please.”

Jungwoo smirks knowingly, “If you say so.”

They lapse into silence, the hum of the engine filling the space between them. Jaehyun keeps his eyes on the car ahead, his mind racing. The image of Y/n laughing with Doyoung replays in his head like a taunt.

“You don’t get it,” he mutters after a while, almost to himself.

Jungwoo lets out a soft laugh, “No, Jae, I get it. I don't like it all that much but I get it… I see a lot. I don't always say anything but I see more than you know.”

Jaehyun’s grip tightens on the wheel again, but he says nothing. Because deep down, he knows Jungwoo is right.

At the tattoo shop, they park and head inside. Doyoung is visibly nervous but Y/n stays close, her attention locked on him. It’s a level of intimacy that doesn’t go unnoticed by Jaehyun and he’s almost completely unraveled by it.

Ten, the tattoo artist, greets them with an amused grin. “Welcome… Jungwoo said the one who looks scared would be Doyoung and the one with the big head would be Jaehyun, so… Hi, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun stiffens under Ten’s knowing gaze, “Um… You own this shop?” he asks dryly.

“Yeah, I do… that’s not a problem, is it?” Ten replies with mock innocence.

Doyoung’s eyes flicker between them, “Do you two know each other?” he asks cautiously.

Ten’s smirk widens, “I don’t know him.”

Jaehyun’s pulse quickens, “What do you mean you don’t know me- I don’t fuckin’ know you either, dude.” But oh, he knows him. Too well. The images of Ten, unabashed on livestreams, flash through Jaehyun’s mind, making his throat dry.

Jungwoo frowns, “You guys know each other? Jae… Where do you know each other from?”

Ten laughs lightly, “He came in about a month ago and was gonna get something inked on his back but he bitched up and left,” he says, pulling out two clipboards, “Fill these out and I’ll get everything ready. Don’t run out this time.”

Jaehyun begrudgingly takes a clipboard but the exchange of suspicious glances between Jungwoo, Doyoung, and Y/n makes him uneasy.

“You guys are acting like you fucked,” Doyoung mutters under his breath.

Jaehyun sighs, shooting him a glare, “Well, you’d know all about what that looks like, wouldn’t you, Doyoung?”

Doyoung wrinkles his nose, “What are you talking about?”

“Not Mister Smart Ass trying to play stupid. Shut up, dude, you- ”

“Save the drama for the ride home. Get your shit done peacefully or get out,” Ten calls from the back, cutting through the tension.

Jaehyun exhales sharply and focuses on filling out the paperwork, keeping his distance from Doyoung, who is equally on edge.

As Ten preps Doyoung’s tattoo, he glances at Y/n thoughtfully. “I feel like I know you from somewhere, but I can’t place it,” he says casually.

Y/n smiles, leaning against the wall. “I was here earlier,” she jokes. Then, with a shrug, she adds, “No, I’m just kidding. I don’t know… people tell me I have one of those familiar faces.”

“Literally nobody’s ever told you that,” Jaehyun cuts in peevishly from the other side of the room.

Y/n arches a brow, turning toward him, “I’m sorry, Jaehyun, I didn’t realize you were present for every human interaction I’ve ever fucking had- you wanna dial it back?” she snaps.

Jaehyun pouts as he crosses his arm, then, like a sulky child, he mimics her under his breath, his voice pitched higher, “You wanna dial it back…”

“Real mature,” she sighs.

Ten chuckles as he positions the stencil on Doyoung’s skin, “You two are funny… It's kinda cute.”

“Trust me, it’s not,” Jaehyun mutters, earning a light smack on the arm from Y/n.

Ten chuckles, “But… it’s not your face that's familiar, Y/n… it’s your voice. Do you have a podcast?”

“Nope. I’ve thought about starting one but I don’t think I’m interesting enough to hold anyone’s attention,” she replies lightly.

Jaehyun silently wishes they’d all just stop talking.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d have a hell of an audience,” Ten says with a sly smile.

“Yeah, I’m sure she would. Can we just get this shit stamped on me, please? I’m about to change my mind,” Doyoung pipes up.

“Yeah, sure… sorry about that,” Ten says, shifting his focus back to Doyoung, “I’m just gonna need you to take your shirt off. I don’t wanna get ink on it and it’s kinda in the way.”

Y/n sits beside Doyoung, holding his hand as he nervously removes his shirt. She takes it and places it in her lap before reclaiming his hand. Jaehyun notices the way Ten’s eyes flicker over the faint scratches on Doyoung’s chest but doesn’t comment.

“How bad is this gonna hurt?” Doyoung asks quietly.

“You’re such a big baby,” Y/n laughs. “It’s not gonna hurt.”

Jaehyun shifts uncomfortably, wishing the whole ordeal would be over. Every stolen glance, every lingering touch between them feels like a knife twisting in his gut. And Ten’s occasional smirks in his direction only make it worse.

“Okay, I’m gonna go over the care instructions after I’m done with sour grapes over here, but feel free to put your shirt back on. You did good, dude,” Ten says, wiping down Doyoung’s fresh tattoo carefully.

Doyoung flashes a triumphant smile as he stands, wincing slightly but clearly pleased with himself. As he slips his shirt back on, Jaehyun catches a glimpse of a few faint hickeys scattered along Doyoung’s hip line. His stomach twists in a mix of irritation and something he refuses to name. He swallows the urge to scream.

When it’s Jaehyun’s turn, Jungwoo bounces over, his grin as wide as ever, “You want me to hold your hand?” he offers eagerly.

Jaehyun stares at him flatly, the corner of his mouth twitching, “Okay?” he grunts, relenting.

Jungwoo smiles and trades places with Y/n, practically shoving her out of the way before plopping into the chair beside Jaehyun. He grabs Jaehyun’s hand without hesitation, his fingers warm and firm, “I know you already have one but this is just so you don’t feel left out.”

“Wait- what?” Y/n snorts, turning back toward them, amused.

“You already have a tattoo?” Doyoung asks incredulously, his brows shooting up. He looks Jaehyun up and down, his expression shifting into one of concentrated thought.

Jaehyun shifts uncomfortably under the scrutiny, “Are you perceiving my body right now? Dude, stop.”

Doyoung wrinkles his nose, feigning disgust, “Don’t make me gag.”

“Okay but if it’s so gross, why are you making such a big fuckin’ deal about it?” Jaehyun snaps defensively.

“Because you got a whole ass tattoo and never said anything, Jaehyun!” Y/n pipes up, her voice dripping with mock outrage as she leans against the counter, watching him squirm.

“Exactly,” Doyoung adds, crossing his arms and cocking an eyebrow, “Where is it?”

“None of your fuckin’ business,” Jaehyun mutters, his jaw tightening as he shifts uncomfortably.

They don’t need to know about the tiny hot toddy tattoo etched on his left hip bone- a soft confession of love disguised as an inside joke that he’s managed to keep under wraps until now. Despite Jungwoo’s slip of the tongue, Jaehyun refuses to give them the satisfaction of an explanation. He doubles down on his vow of silence, hoping they’ll drop it.

But they don’t.

“C’mon, dude, just tell us,” Y/n prods, her tone teasing as she perches on the edge of a stool, “I bet it’s something stupid, like a tramp stamp.”

“Or his own name,” Doyoung snorts, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“I’m not entertaining this conversation,” Jaehyun grumbles, staring pointedly at the ceiling as Ten starts on his tattoo.

Meanwhile, Ten is thoroughly entertained and his lips twitch with suppressed laughter as he works, “You’re lucky I’m steady-handed,” he chuckles, “This is too good.”

“Just get this shit on me so I can go… please,” Jaehyun grunts, shooting Ten a glare.

Ten smirks, unfazed, “Patience is a virtue, Jae. Besides, I think we all want to hear the story about that secret tattoo…”

“Over my dead body,” Jaehyun fires back but the faint flush creeping up his neck betrays him.

Y/n catches the blush and pounces, her grin downright devilish, “Oh my God, it’s Doyoung’s name!”

Jaehyun snaps his head toward her, his eyes wide with alarm, “Are you insane? Why the fuck would I tattoo that on my body?”

“Fuck you, I’m a solid choice!” Doyoung retorts, mock-offended as he gestures to himself, “You probably have a fuckin’ hottie toddy somewhere close to your dick.”

Jaehyun freezes, his reaction just delayed enough to raise suspicion.

“No…” Doyoung’s eyes narrow, his voice taking on a dangerously amused edge, “It is a hottie toddy, isn't it, Jaehyun?”

“No,” Jaehyun lies flatly but the crack in his voice gives him away.

“Oh my God, it is!” Y/n shrieks, nearly doubling over in laughter.

Jaehyun’s ears burn red as he glares daggers at Jungwoo, “Your ass is mine.”

Ten snorts, “Well it looks that way.”

“Oh my God- could you just- I fucking hate all of you.”

Doyoung steps closer, his grin spreading as if he’s just struck gold, “Is it literally a hot toddy? Like a little cup with steam and cinnamon sticks and shit?”

Jaehyun grits his teeth, refusing to look up, “I’m not talking about this anymore.”

“That’s a yes!” Y/n howls, nearly sliding off the stool in her fit of laughter, “Holy shit, Jae, I need to see this. Please!”

“Absolutely not,” Jaehyun growls, finally raising his head to glare at her.

“I bet it’s tiny too,” Doyoung adds, his voice dripping with mock sweetness, “A cute little baby toddy, just sitting there on your-”

“Oh God- Doyoung, shut the fuck up,” Jaehyun whines, his glare shifting to Doyoung.

Ten sets his tattoo gun aside, clearly taking a break to enjoy the drama, “This is the best entertainment I’ve had all week. Honestly, Jaehyun, just show them. It might shut them up.”

Jaehyun barks out a laugh, humorless and sharp, “Oh yeah, because that’s definitely what’ll happen- you don't know these fuckers.”

“Jae, you know we’re never letting this go, right?” Y/n says, her tone suddenly calm but her eyes sparkling with mischief, “You can either show us now or we’ll all be thinking about your secret hottie toddy for the rest of eternity.”

Jungwoo, who’s been quietly watching with a smug expression, finally chimes in, “You might as well show them.”

“Or… you all can shut the fuck up.”

Doyoung smiles, “We'll see it the next time you get drunk off your ass because I'm not gonna fight you to keep your clothes on.”

Y/n nods, “That works too.”

Jaehyun glares at them then he glances at Jungwoo, who couldn't look more regretful. He almost can’t even be mad at him.

Almost.

Jaehyun calls his mother. He always calls her first.

“Hi, Yoon Oh. It’s Sunday, what are you doing trying to hang out on the phone with your mother?” she says coolly. 

“Hey, mama. I was… um. Happy Birthday,” he says nervously. “Thank you. It’s just another day though,” she says casually.

“I know but I wanted to stop by and spend some time with you… if you want, I can stay and make dinner for you. You shouldn’t have to cook on your birthday, ma,” Jaehyun says. He’s reluctant but so hopeful.

The line goes quiet for a moment, and as always, Jaehyun braces himself, expecting her to hang up. She’s always more likely to hang up on her birthday, and Jaehyun can’t help but drift back to the first time it happened.

He’d greeted her with an innocent, “Good morning, birthday girl,” his tone bright and hopeful.

The call had ended before he could even take another breath.

The memory is vivid, seared into his mind. That day, Jaehyun had felt his heart shatter and the wave of emotion had been too overwhelming. He broke down, his body trembling with sobs that wracked him so intensely he ended up vomiting on himself.

Jungwoo had been there with a steady and silent support. Without a word, he cleaned Jaehyun up, wiping his face and guiding him to bed. He tucked Jaehyun in with care, his soft hands brushing away tears that seemed endless.

“It’s okay, Jae-Jae,” Jungwoo whispered as Jaehyun’s muffled cries soaked into his chest. He held him close, his calm energy the only thing keeping Jaehyun from feeling like he was drowning, burning, and suffocating all at once.

When Jaehyun finally noticed the snot he’d left on Jungwoo’s shirt, he mumbled an apology, his voice weak and raw.

Jungwoo had only smiled, shaking his head, “Nothing the washing machine can’t fix,” he’d said gently, his warmth unchangeable. Then, after a moment of quiet, his voice softened even more, “I just wish I could do something about that broken heart of yours Jae-Jae.”

The words lingered in the air, tender and sincere, wrapping around Jaehyun like a safety net. Jungwoo didn’t press for answers or try to fix what couldn’t be fixed; he just stayed, holding Jaehyun as if his presence alone might help piece him back together.

The memory tightens something in Jaehyun’s chest but his mother’s voice snaps him back to the present.

“If you need to,” she says, her words clipped and impersonal.

Jaehyun doesn’t dwell on it, “Okay, Ma. I’ll see you soon,” he says before ending the call.

He wastes no time, grabbing his coat and heading out the door.

At the grocery store, Jaehyun moves with purpose. He scans the aisles, checking off ingredients and supplies from his list. Every item feels like a step closer to making her birthday special, even if she won’t acknowledge it.

When he’s done, he starts on his way; he finds a parking spot around the corner from her house. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel as he sits in the car for a moment, trying to collect himself.

The weight of her indifference still presses against him but he breathes deeply, grounding himself.

This is what he does. He shows up, no matter how hard it gets. 

After a long exhale, he grabs the bags from the passenger seat and steps out, squaring his shoulders as he approaches her door.

She steps aside to let him in, “My shows start at seven so you can stay but I don’t want too much chit chat. I won’t be able to hear,” she tells him as he kicks off his sneakers in the vestibule 

Jaehyun smiles, “Yes, ma’am.” 

He pads into the kitchen and sets down his reusable bags then washes his hands.

“What are you making?” she asks. 

“Dakgaejang… and Pajeon.”

“No cake?”

“I didn’t buy one. I’m gonna make it myself.”

Jaehyun almost manages to get a reaction out of her. Almost.

“Well, that’s kind of you. I’m going to be in the living room. My neighbor’s son is turning twenty-six, and she paid me to knit a sweater for him. But he changed his mind and asked for a Playing Station… What are you smiling for? I worked hard on that damn sweater.”

“It’s a Playstation, Mama but it’s okay. I bet the sweater’s beautiful.”

“You’re about his size so if you want it when it’s finished, you can have it. It’s burgundy. That’s a good color on you.”

She never made him a sweater. Not once. He’d always sat at her feet, careful hands keeping her yarn from tangling, watching as she crafted sweaters for neighbors, friends, coworkers- everyone but him. He shouldn’t feel happy about getting one now, not like this but the idea of being wrapped in something his mother had poured her time and care into brought a quiet, unfamiliar warmth he wasn’t ready to name.

She had taken her time making him, too, hadn’t she? But his own skin had always felt like a punishment, something too heavy and too wrong to live in. At least the sweater could be taken off.

“Thanks, mama… I’m gonna start the cake and then get dinner on so that way the cake can cool while we eat and then I can frost it.”

The brownstone isn’t much different from the way it was when he left home all those years ago. He feels the urge to go upstairs and peek into his old bedroom but he's positive that it's an impromptu storage space so he suppresses that need and gets busy. His mother, ever distant, slips in and out of the kitchen as he works.

He doesn’t realize that she's seated at the island counter until he turns away from the stove. He freezes, bracing himself for whatever she’s going to say next.

“Why did you bleach your hair?” she asks. Jaehyun chews his bottom lip, “I have no idea,” he says and it’s the truth. He just did it. He almost cut it all off but his father had cut his own hair off the night before he left them and that vague memory of a man with a face he now carries everywhere was more than enough to sway him from something so drastic. 

“I think I had too much time on my hands.”

“It makes you look so pale, Yoon Oh,” she says matter-of-factly, her gaze almost critical.

Jaehyun nods, unsure of what to say, “I’ll let it grow out,” he murmurs, turning back to the stove.

Behind him, the silence feels heavy, like there’s more she wants to say but won’t. It’s always been like this- a strange, unspoken gulf between them that neither of them knows how to bridge.

Jaehyun focuses on the task at hand, hoping the meal will convey what words never seem to.

When dinner is ready, he carefully ladles the steaming soup into his mother’s bowl- the one her own mother had sent her off with when she left for college. Its rim is decorated with stars and satellites, whimsical in a way that seems out of place in her sharp, practical world. Yet, through the years, it’s one of the few things that never fails to soften her features. He catches the faintest smile tugging at her lips as he sets it before her and for a fleeting moment, her eyes seem distant, touched with something like nostalgia.

Jaehyun serves himself next, pouring the soup into an old favorite of his own- a Crayon Shin-Chan bowl from middle school. He chuckles to himself as he sets it down at the table, the memory of his younger self clamoring for that bowl in the local K-Mart resurfacing like an old photograph.

The fact that she saved It all these years stirs something in him, bittersweet and aching. He wonders again about his old room. If she held onto this, what else might still be there? But he decides against asking. His heart can only take so much and he’s not sure he’s ready for the answer- whether it’s still his room or not.

They sit across from each other at the small kitchen table, the only sounds are the clink of spoons against ceramic and the faint hum of the refrigerator. He watches her take a sip, her expression neutral but somehow softened in the flickering kitchen light.

“It’s good,” she says quietly, breaking the silence.

“Thanks, Mama,” Jaehyun replies, his voice equally soft, the warmth of her words linger in the quiet space between them.

When they finish eating, Jaehyun clears the table without a word, gathering their bowls, plates, and utensils. He washes each piece carefully, letting the warm water soothe his hands as he works. Once everything is clean and neatly placed in the drying rack, he turns his attention to the cake.

He retrieves the seafoam-green number fifty candle from its packaging and positions it carefully in the center of the frosting. Fishing his lighter from his pocket, he flicks it on, shielding the small flame as It catches the wick. The soft glow illuminates the room’s muted tones, casting gentle shadows.

“Okay, Ma. Here it comes,” Jaehyun says softly, setting the lighter down before picking up the cake. His voice is quiet but steady, carrying a tender warmth as he carries it to the table.

He begins to sing, “Happy Birthday to you…” His voice is low, almost shy but sincere.

Across the table, his mother sits as still as a statue. The flickering candlelight dances across her face and for a fleeting moment, she looks as if she might cry. Her lips press together, trembling faintly but she holds it together, her expression unmistakably touched.

Jaehyun sets the cake down in front of her, stepping back slightly, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “Make a wish, Ma,” he says, his tone gentle, his eyes searching hers for something he can’t name.

She exhales slowly, her gaze fixed on the candle. And for once, the silence between them doesn’t feel so heavy- it feels like hope.

The cake turned out better than Jaehyun had hoped and he silently beams as he watches them go toe to toe on their slices. His sweet tooth mirrors hers so distinctly that it tugs at something deep inside him- a bittersweet connection he can’t quite put into words.

When they finish, he clears the table again, rinsing and washing the plates and utensils. The rhythmic sound of running water fills the kitchen, a soothing backdrop to their quiet evening.

As he dries his hands, she stands and stretches lightly, “I’m going to finish that sweater,” she says carefully, “You can stay if you want but you’ll have to help me keep my yarn from tangling.”

Jaehyun nods, eager for even this small excuse to linger. He follows her into the living room, but he stops just inside the entryway, his gaze wandering. The room feels like a time capsule, untouched by the years in ways that feel both comforting and strange.

The sofa, still protected by its plastic cover, dominates the space. Its pristine condition is a testament to her strict rules.

He hadn’t sat on it much as a child. 

“The living room is for entertaining people,” she had told him once, her tone stern and matter-of-fact, “If you spend too much time in any room, it’ll start to look like it.”

The few times he had defied that rule, the memory stuck- especially the way the plastic clung to the backs of his legs in the summer heat.

“Yoon Oh,” her sharp voice pulls him from the haze of his thoughts. He snaps his eyes to her, startled.

“Hm?”

“Come sit. Stop flying off,” she sighs, settling into her recliner. Her tone is softer this time but still clipped, the way it always is when she’s hiding concern.

“Sorry,” he mutters, shaking his head at himself as he steps onto the carpet.

He pads over and sinks down onto the floor beside her chair, his back pressed against the front of the chair. The tension in his shoulders eases as he exhales slowly, stealing a glance at her as she turns on the television.

The flat-screen mounted above the fireplace is one he installed for her years ago. She flips through the channels with quick, precise movements until she lands on her soaps. The familiar sounds of dramatic music and overwrought Korean dialogue fill the room.

She begins preparing her yarn, skilled fingers unwinding it from the skein. Once she has enough, she hands the remainder to him without a word.

Jaehyun takes it carefully, his hands steady as he keeps the yarn free of tangles. They sit in companionable silence, the glow of the TV casting shifting light over the room.

For a moment, Jaehyun feels like he’s nine years old again- sitting at her feet, the hum of the television blending with the quiet sound of her knitting needles. The years between then and now seem to blur and he holds onto the yarn as if it’s anchoring him to this rare, fleeting moment of closeness.

~

Jaehyun doesn’t realize he’s fallen asleep until his eyes flutter open, the soft hum of the television filling the room. He blinks groggily, taking in the dim light and the familiar scent of his mother’s living room.

His head rests on the arm of her chair and her hand is atop his hair, fingers gently carding through his platinum blond locks. The motion is absent minded, almost automatic but it’s comforting in a way that's unfamiliar.

He freezes, his heart thudding softly in his chest. Her touch is so rare that he’s afraid to disturb it. If she realizes he’s awake, will she pull away? Will the moment shatter?

So he stays still, closing his eyes again to savor the feeling. It’s warm and soothing, like a fragile echo of something he’s always longed for but rarely received.

Her touch is hesitant, as if she isn’t sure what she’s doing but it’s enough to make him feel small and cared for, if only for a moment. And in the stillness of the room, Jaehyun lets himself sink into it, holding onto the sensation like a secret he’ll keep for himself.

The sound of the television drifts in and out of focus, but Jaehyun hardly notices. The world outside this moment feels irrelevant.

His mother’s hand stills for a second and he wonders if she’s realized he’s awake. His heart catches but then her fingers resume their slow, careful rhythm, brushing through his hair with the gentleness of someone unpracticed but trying.

A lump rises In his throat. How long had it been since she touched him like this? Since she showed affection without the sharp edges of distance? He doesn’t dare move or speak, afraid of breaking whatever unspoken truce they’ve entered.

He thinks about how much he’d craved this as a child- her touch, her warmth, her presence. And even now, as an adult with years of understanding why she was the way she was, he still aches for it.

Her hand pauses again, this time lingering at the nape of his neck, “Please don’t do such a color again,” she murmurs, almost to herself.

Jaehyun’s lips twitch into a faint smile but he doesn’t respond. He doesn’t want to risk saying the wrong thing, not when she’s letting herself be vulnerable in her own quiet way.

“You should let it grow out,” she continues, her voice softer than usual, “The color… it doesn’t suit you.”

There’s no bite in her tone, no criticism that stings. It feels more like a suggestion, an observation spoken because she feels safe enough to say it.

Jaehyun hums faintly, a barely-there acknowledgement and she doesn’t press him for more.

They sit like that for what feels like hours, her fingers weaving through his hair in an absent rhythm, the television casting flickering light across the room.

For once, the silence between them feels less like a wall and more like a bridge- a fragile and provisional connection that neither of them feels brave enough to name.

Then Jaehyun ruins it. He always does. Just like his mother, he can’t leave well enough alone and when something lingers on his mind for too long, he has to pick at it.

“Mama,” he begins cautiously, but there’s a tremor in his voice, “what happened with Dad? Why did he leave us?”

Her hand freezes mid-motion, the warmth in the room evaporating in an instant. The air between them turns cold and brittle.

“I don’t know how you manage to spoil things so often…” she says bitterly.

“Ma, I just want to know. It’s been twenty-two years, and- ”

“Twenty-two years,” she interrupts sharply, “and every time I look at you, I feel like I’m being sucked back in time to the night he left!”

Jaehyun lowers his gaze to the carpet, his shoulders hunching, “Why can’t you just tell me? It’s bad enough you couldn’t save even one picture of him,” he pleads quietly, a tear slipping down his cheek.

She huffs and the sound is filled with years of exhaustion, “I never wanted children, Yoon Oh. I wanted to stay in school. I was supposed to go to space… see the moon, orbit the Earth, and live. When I got pregnant, your father convinced me to keep you. I had scheduled an abortion,” She pauses, her voice tightening, “That’s how serious I was about not being ready for children- but I loved your father so much that I listened to him.”

“You didn’t want me?” Jaehyun’s voice is barely a whisper, his breath catching on the words.

“You were a wonderful kid, Yoon Oh,” she says, her tone softens for the briefest moment, “You were so much like me when I was younger and it scared me but I had your father with me and he… he handled me. I thought we’d be fine. I thought we’d figure it out,” she pauses for a moment and stares off as though she's looking at a memory she’d rather forget, “But then his job started offering him promotions, higher salaries, longer hours, and transfers- we couldn’t just uproot everything- that’s not what you do when you have children so the trips- as you might remember– got longer and longer.”

She stops and the silence between them stretches thin and taut. Jaehyun waits, knowing she isn’t finished. One thing she's never been good at is just crushing his spirit. She never stops until he’s nothing more than dust.

“My dreams and your life could never walk together,” she continues, “I had to choose- to nourish my dreams or to raise you. So I chose you. Begrudgingly, maybe, but I still chose you,” Her eyes harden and her voice grows colder, “Your father wasn’t strong enough to look his choices in the face and live with them. So he left. He went back to Seoul and he stayed for good and that was just it.”

Jaehyun bites his bottom lip, his mind racing as he processes her words. Finally, he asks quietly, “Did he ever reach out?”

Her expression hardens and a flicker of bitterness crosses her face, “In 2001… a week before the towers went down,” she begins, her voice sharp and cutting, “I got a letter in the mail from him. You have a brother- Park Jisung… that’s the boy’s name… Your father said he was due in February and that he wanted you to know your brother… Another February baby just like you. I sent him a letter back and told him we didn’t care, that he could take his reset family and shove it,” She pauses, her jaw tightening, “Was that very kind? No- but it was a slap in the face he deserved.”

Her words come faster now, the dam breaking, “He left me, Yoon Oh- and it took him almost no time at all to figure out his life and start over while I was stuck in that house, living beneath my privilege, working two jobs just to keep us afloat. Denying myself the thrill of falling in love again because I was terrified- terrified of being abandoned again or worse- bringing home some closeted pervert who might’ve done something to you.”

Jaehyun flinches at her bluntness but doesn’t interrupt.

“I couldn’t make the same mistake my mother made when my father left us,” she continues, her voice softer now but no less weighted, “I wouldn’t let you endure that. You’d already been through enough.”

Her hands tremble as she speaks, her gaze fixed somewhere beyond Jaehyun, “I wasn’t a perfect mother, Yoon Oh. I wasn’t even a decent one. I know I failed you. I failed you in ways I’ll never forgive myself for but I promised myself one thing- that I wouldn’t burden you with anything more than you were already carrying,” She exhales shakily, the admission heavy and raw, “I decided it would be enough for you to survive me.”

“I didn’t survive you, mama. This isn’t surviving,” Jaehyun whispers, his voice breaking.

Her eyes grow cold, retreating behind a wall of detachment, “It didn’t kill you, did it?” she replies sharply, her words are clipped and final.

Jaehyun exhales, his frustration simmering beneath his trembling hands, “It almost did, mama…” he says, “And some days… I’m scared it eventually will.”

She scoffs, shaking her head as if dismissing his pain outright, “Don’t be so dramatic, Yoon Oh. Life is hard for everyone.”

His mouth opens, then closes, the words caught in his throat. He feels a lump forming, choking him, but he pushes through it, “I’m not trying to be dramatic. I’m trying to tell you the truth. Do you even care or do you just wanna pretend everything was fine?”

Her lips press into a thin line and her hands clench tightly in her lap, “I did the best I could,” she says, her voice sharper now, as if that alone could end the argument, “I gave you what I had. If it wasn’t enough, I’m sorry but I can’t go back and change it now.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, his chest heaving as the weight of her words settles on him, “That’s the thing, mama. You never gave me a chance to even talk about it. You decided for me. You decided what I could handle, what I should feel, what I deserved to know. You took that from me.”

Her face hardens, her eyes narrowing as if to shield herself from his words, “And what good would it have done for you to have known everything? Huh? Would it have made your life better? Would it erase what happened?”

“No,” Jaehyun says, his voice barely above a whisper, “But at least I wouldn’t have to carry the weight of not knowing why- I was so little and everything was fine then he left and you changed- it never occurred to you that my little mind was gonna think I did something to make him go? It felt like you just turned on me, mama.”

Silence stretches between them, thick and suffocating. She doesn’t look at him, her gaze fixed on some distant point as though he’s not even there.

Jaehyun waits, hoping she’ll say something, anything, to bridge the empty space between them but she doesn’t.

He stands, his movements slow and heavy, “I’ll go,” he says quietly, his voice void of the hope he’d carried when he walked through the door, “Happy Birthday, mama.”

She doesn’t reply, doesn’t even turn to look at him.

Jaehyun grabs shoes from the entryway and puts them back on, his steps dragging as he leaves the house. The night air is warm against his skin and it contrasts against the chill that’s settled deep in his chest.

As he climbs into his car and starts the engine, he stares at the brownstone for a moment longer, hoping for some sign of reconciliation. But the windows remain dark, the door firmly shut.

He drives off, the quiet hum of the car doing little to drown out the ache inside him.

"Truth or dare- you slept with a coworker," Doyoung blurts out.

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, lips curling into a mischievous smirk, "First of all, you didn’t let me pick one. Second of all, that’s not even a real question. Try harder, Doie."

"Answer it," Doyoung says quickly, avoiding the grin he knows is aimed directly at him.

"Fine. Dare," Donghyuck replies with deliberate slowness, leaning back in his chair like he’s settling in for a long game.

"That’s not how it works!" Jungwoo chimes in, voice loud over the low buzz of the bar, "You can’t just dodge the question like that."

Donghyuck shrugs, nonchalant, "Rules are made to be bent, Woo. Besides, Doyoung’s question was trash. You can’t just out people like that- it’s rude."

"It wasn’t rude!" Doyoung exclaims but the tips of his ears turn red, betraying his embarrassment.

"It was a little bit," Jungwoo teases, nudging Doyoung’s shoulder, "You’re lucky Hyuck likes you. He could make your life hell right now."

"Like me?" Doyoung echoes, stiffening slightly. His voice cracks just enough to make Donghyuck’s smirk widen.

"Of course I like you," Donghyuck says smoothly, resting his chin in his hand and staring at Doyoung in a way that makes him want to disappear into the floor, "You’re fun. Like a grumpy professor who's also kinda hot when he's disappointed in his students."

"I’m not-" Doyoung stops, he’s flustered and as he fumbles for his drink, his face grows hotter under Donghyuck’s relentless eyes

"You’re definitely cute," Donghyuck presses, his grin stretching wider, "Right, Woo?"

"Adorable," Jungwoo agrees, though he looks more amused by Doyoung’s reaction than the conversation itself.

"Stop," Doyoung begs quietly, "You’re just messing with me. I know what you’re doing."

"Am I?" Donghyuck’s tone is light but his smirk holds just enough edge to make Doyoung falter.

"Yes," Doyoung snaps, though his voice doesn’t carry the conviction he wants it to. He sets his glass down a little too hard, hoping to make himself seem unshaken.

Jungwoo chuckles, leaning back to observe the unfolding chaos, "I don’t know, Doie. Hyuck might be serious."

Doyoung’s head snaps toward Jungwoo, who is clearly enjoying this far too much, "He’s not. Right?" He turns back to Donghyuck but the younger man’s smirk only deepens.

"Why don’t you decide?" Donghyuck says, his voice lilting as he leans in just slightly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Doyoung freezes, unsure of how to respond. His brain scrambles for a logical explanation. This is just Hyuck being Hyuck. He messes with everyone but the way Donghyuck is looking at him feels… too direct. Too intentional.

"I’m straight," Doyoung blurts out, immediately wincing at how loud and awkward it sounds.

The table goes silent for a moment before Jungwoo snorts, nearly spitting out his drink. Donghyuck throws his head back in laughter, the sound loud and unapologetic.

"Relax, Doyoung," Donghyuck says between laughs, wiping at the corner of his eye. "I’m not trying to date you. You’re not even my type."

"Good," Doyoung mutters, though he feels an inexplicable twinge of irritation at Donghyuck’s dismissal. He hides it by taking another sip of his drink.

"But," Donghyuck continues, his grin turning wicked, "you’re fun to bother. I mean, that alone was priceless."

"I hate you," Doyoung grumbles, slumping back in his seat.

"You love me," Donghyuck counters, his tone sing-song.

Jungwoo pats Doyoung on the back, still grinning, "You walked right into that one. Just let Hyuck win this round."

Doyoung groans, rubbing his temples, "Why did I agree to come out tonight?"

"Because you secretly like the chaos," Donghyuck says, leaning over the table to steal a fry from Doyoung’s plate, "Admit it. You’d miss me if I wasn’t around."

Doyoung glares at him but doesn’t bother swatting his hand away, "I’d bathe in the silence."

Donghyuck laughs again, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied expression. "Keep telling yourself that, Doie."

Jungwoo raises his glass, grinning, "To Hyuck: the chaos we didn’t ask for but somehow can’t live without." 

"Cheers," Donghyuck says smugly, raising his own glass.

Doyoung groans but reluctantly clinks his glass with theirs. At least they’re entertaining, he thinks, though he’s already plotting his escape from Donghyuck’s relentless teasing.

After the trio turns in for the night- Donghyuck heading back to his own place- Doyoung and Jungwoo stumble into their shared apartment. The smell of late-night takeout and the faint buzz of the bar still linger on their clothes.

Jaehyun is perched snugly on one corner of the sofa, his posture slouched but tense, eyes glued to the glowing TV screen. The only light in the room comes from the flickering images dancing across his face, casting long, uneven shadows.

“Jae, you’re still up?” Doyoung asks, toeing off his shoes by the door.

Jaehyun doesn’t turn to look at them, just gives a slight nod, “Yeah... Sounds dumb but I’m waiting for my mom to call me.”

Doyoung exchanges a glance with Jungwoo, who shrugs, half-draped over the arm of the couch, “Your mom? Is something wrong?”

“No. I mean… I don’t know,” Jaehyun mutters, his voice low and slow, the words barely piecing themselves together, “I officially haven’t heard from her in a month, which is… I dunno. She never calls me so I don’t even know why I’m waiting to hear from her. But usually, when I call her, she answers and now, she’s not.”

The room goes quiet for a moment, save for the soft murmur of the TV. Doyoung steps further inside, his eyebrows furrow, “Did you try texting her?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

Jaehyun shrugs, sinking further into the cushions, “Nothing,” His voice is flat but there’s an unsteady undercurrent.

Doyoung narrows his eyes slightly, catching the sluggish blink and the distant tone, “You’re high, aren’t you?”

Jaehyun lets out a short laugh, though it’s more of a sigh, “A little.”

“Jesus,” Doyoung mutters, rubbing his temples.

Jungwoo scoots closer to Jaehyun, effortlessly folding himself into the space beside him, like he’s always belonged there, “Hey,” he says gently, his voice tinged with understanding. “If you’re worried about her, just call her again tomorrow. Moms like ours… they do this sometimes. They disappear for a bit but they always come back around.”

There’s an almost ancient familiarity in his tone, a shared understanding that transcends words. It shouldn’t feel normal- this casual acceptance of inconsistent mothers- but if their mothers did nothing else, they left them with scars so unmistakable that these men couldn’t help but recognize them in each other.

“Yeah…” Jaehyun murmurs, eyes still fixed on the TV, though it’s clear he’s not really watching it, “It’s stupid. She’s probably fine. I’m just-” He cuts himself off, exhaling sharply, “Forget it.”

Doyoung settles into the armchair across from him, crossing his arms, “It’s not stupid. You’re allowed to worry.”

“Even if it’s about someone who doesn’t worry about me?” Jaehyun asks with the faintest crack in his voice.

That lands heavier than Doyoung or Jungwoo expects. Jungwoo leans his head against Jaehyun’s shoulder, the gesture casual but comforting, “It’s not stupid,” Jungwoo repeats, quieter this time.

For a moment, Jaehyun doesn’t respond, then he lets out a long breath, tilting his head to rest against Jungwoo’s, “Thanks,” he mumbles, his voice almost lost beneath the hum of the TV.

Doyoung watches them, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He doesn’t say anything but he makes a mental note to check in on Jaehyun tomorrow- maybe even stop by to check on Jaehyun’s mom himself if they can't get ahold of her.

“Come on,” Jungwoo says after a while, nudging Jaehyun, “Let’s get you to bed… We can… I dunno… I’ll fill you in on how much I think Hyuck is dying to get into Doyoung’s pants.”

“No he’s not- would you stop saying that?” Doyoung groans.

Jaehyun chuckles softly, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he stands, “Alright, alright… I’m all ears,” he says as he turns the TV off and stands up wearily.

As Jaehyun retreats to his room, Jungwoo looks at Doyoung and shrugs, “He’ll be okay. He doesn’t look like he’ll be awake for long.”

Doyoung nods, though he doesn’t feel entirely convinced so he waits. He settles in, fights sleep, and gives Jungwoo time and space to be the dutiful boyfriend that he is and when enough time has passed, Doyoung softly knocks on Jaehyun’s door. 

“It’s open,” Jaehyun says softly. Doyoung opens the door and smiles. Jungwoo is curled up beside Jaehyun in pajamas that definitely aren't his own and he's asleep. Jaehyun is still wide awake, “He fell asleep as soon as his body hit the bed.

They both laugh but Jaehyun’s is halfhearted.

“Are you okay?” Doyoung asks.

Jaehyun shrugs, “Yes and no… mostly no.”

“Wanna talk about it or do you want me to sit with you?”

“Sit with me, please?”

Doyoung nods without hesitation, stepping inside and quietly closing the door behind him. His eyes flick to Jungwoo, who’s curled up against Jaehyun’s side, already fast asleep. The sight makes Doyoung smile softly, Jungwoo always manages to bring a sense of calm, even when things feel overwhelming.

But his attention shifts back to Jaehyun, who looks as though he’s teetering on the edge of something unspoken.

Doyoung walks over to the bed, gently pushes Jungwoo closer to Jaehyun- if that’s possible and climbs into bed. He leans against the headboard and pulls his knees up to his chin, “I’m here,” he says softly.

Jaehyun exhales, his gaze fixed on the ceiling like it holds the answers he’s been searching for, “I feel stupid,” he starts, his voice is thin and wavering as if he'll crack at any moment.

“But you’re not,” Doyoung cuts in gently, without giving him a chance to spiral.

“I don’t even know why I’m this worried. She’s never been consistent,” Jaehyun continues, his words spilling out like a dam has broken, “I mean, I wake up every morning and I ask myself why the fuck I’m even here. Sometimes I think I’m close to figuring it out but by the end of the day, I’m just as lost as I was when I woke up.”

Doyoung tilts his head, watching Jaehyun carefully, “I can tell you why you’re here.”

Jaehyun shifts slightly, glancing at him, “Yeah? Enlighten me.”

“You’re here because your parents had sex,” Doyoung deadpans.

Jaehyun flinches, a frown creasing his forehead, “Are you serious right now?”

Doyoung shrugs, his tone light but unwavering, “Very... That’s why most of us are here. People fucked and now we’re here, picking up the pieces.”

The bluntness of it catches Jaehyun off guard and he blinks at Doyoung, unsure whether to laugh or throw something, “That’s a shitty answer,” he mutters.

“Maybe,” Doyoung admits, a small smile tugging at his lips, “But it’s the truth. Jae, it’s not about why you’re here- it’s about why you keep going. That’s the part only you get to figure out.”

Jaehyun shakes his head, letting out a humorless laugh, “You make that shit sound so easy.”

“It’s not easy,” Doyoung says softly and slowly, “It’s messy and it’s hard and it takes a lot out of you- but it’s doable and you have us so at least it’s not something you have to suffer through alone.”

Jaehyun looks at him, “You really believe that?”

“I do,” Doyoung says firmly, “Even on the days when it feels like everything’s falling apart, I believe it and when you can’t believe it, I’ll believe it for you.”

The words settle over the room, quiet but heavy with meaning. Jaehyun lets them sink in, his gaze dropping from the ceiling to his hands, “Thanks, Do,” he says finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Always,” Doyoung replies without hesitation. He leans back slightly, giving Jaehyun a moment to settle into that truth.

That’s Doyoung’s thing: always. When he says it, Jaehyun believes him, no questions asked. It’s selfish, Jaehyun knows but sometimes he wishes Doyoung were his actual brother. Other times, he wonders what good it would’ve done. Doyoung’s own mother had managed to drive a wedge between him and his brothers so deep that he hasn’t spoken to them since he graduated college. It broke his heart but in the end, he chose his own peace.

Jaehyun tells himself that maybe, if it had been him- if he’d been the one blessed with Doyoung as a brother- things would’ve been different. Maybe their love could’ve preserved them, held them together a little better. But who’s to say? Maybe in every timeline, they’re not meant to be brothers. Maybe they’re destined to be something so close to it that it hurts all the more, knowing they’ll never quite be.

For the first time that night, Jaehyun looks less like he’s about to shatter. The weight in his chest doesn’t feel quite as suffocating and the knot in his stomach loosens, if only a little.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” Jaehyun says, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” Doyoung replies with a grin, “But I think you’ll sleep just a little bit better tonight… Just a tiny bit.”

Jaehyun chuckles softly, the sound tired but genuine. For the first time all night, he feels like maybe, just maybe, things will be okay.

You let yourself in as you always do- quietly. The apartment is dark, the only light spilling in from the sunlight peeking through the living room curtains. You toe off your shoes at the door and pad down the hallway, heading first to Doyoung’s room.

It’s empty, of course. His bed is made with military precision, everything in its rightful place. You frown, your fingers lingering on the doorframe before you close the door and move on.

“Where the hell is everyone?” you mumble under your breath, the unease creeping in as you wander through the quiet apartment.

Finally, you creep into Jaehyun’s room, and the sight that greets you makes you pause.

The trio is asleep, existing together in a way that’s both chaotic and endearing. Jungwoo is nestled in the middle, tucked so tightly into Jaehyun’s side that it’s hard to tell where one ends and the other begins. Doyoung lies on the other side, his ankles crossed and hands folded neatly over his stomach. You stifle a small laugh, recalling how Jaehyun once joked that Doyoung sleeps like a corpse in a casket-formal, polite, even in sleep.

But you know better. Doyoung’s calm exterior doesn’t mean he rests easily. Even after all the progress he’s made over the years, there’s still a restlessness in him that never quite fades. He’s the kind of person who sleeps lightly, always alert, always ready.

As if on cue, a faint creak from the door under your hand makes Doyoung stir. His eyes blink open almost immediately, sharp and aware despite the early hour. His gaze sweeps the room for half a second before landing on you, softening in recognition.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he props himself up slightly, his voice low and warm when he murmurs, “Hey, sweetheart.”

“Hey, Doie,” you reply just as softly, stepping further into the room.

Doyoung stretches, his body folding forward slightly as he rubs the back of his neck, careful not to disturb the others. The quiet hum of the room seems to wrap around the two of you, cocooning this moment in stillness, “What time is it?”

“It’s still early… just after seven,” you answer, crouching beside the bed, “Didn’t mean to wake you.”

Doyoung shakes his head, his movements slow and careful as if trying not to jar the fragile peace in the room, “It’s fine. I should’ve gone back to my room already anyway... Jae’s mattress is way too soft.” He gives a faint chuckle but the exhaustion etched into his face is hard to ignore.

Still, his hand finds its way to you, brushing lightly against the top of your head. The gesture is tender. It’s the kind of thing Doyoung does without thinking but to you, it feels like he’s speaking in a language only the two of you share.

“Come to my room?” he says softly, his voice carries a note of invitation that feels like a lifeline.

You nod and your heart twists just a little at the way he looks at you- like he’s always waiting to make space for you, even in his most tired moments.

Doyoung swings his legs over the side of the bed, his movements quiet and controlled. He glances down at Jungwoo and Jaehyun, still tangled in their shared slumber and he smiles faintly before standing.

Without a word, he takes your hand, leading you out of the room as silently as you came in.

“Gimme a minute,” he murmurs, voice soft, as he slips into the bathroom.

You nod, watching the door close behind him before making your way to his room. It’s as meticulously kept as ever, each corner precisely arranged but there’s a warmth to it now, a quiet anticipation. Any moment now, Doyoung will return and with him, the room will shift- his presence will breathe life into the careful order, making it feel less like a space and more like his space.

Slipping beneath his covers, you settle into the quiet. The fabric smells faintly of him, clean and comforting, and your eyes drift over the room. A few scattered books on the desk, his watch carefully placed on the nightstand, a picture- the four of you had taken the night you all went out together for the first time- framed by his lamp and it's all so Doyoung. Every little piece.

But even as you try to let the stillness soothe you, your thoughts refuse to be hushed. You mull over the weight of what you’ve been carrying, the truth you’ve been biting back. The thought of telling him twists in your chest.

How will he react?

Will he look at you differently?

The questions pile up, relentless and loud in the silence. You press your hand to your forehead, closing your eyes as you try to imagine the conversation. Doyoung’s sharp, attentive eyes watching you, his expression softening as he listens- he’s always been good at that, at giving you his full attention. But still… What if this is too much?

The bathroom door creaks open and you hear his footsteps approaching. You quickly fix your face, trying to be neutral but wondering if you're actually succeeding.

He pauses in the doorway, watching you for a moment. Then, his lips curve into a gentle smile, “You’re so pretty,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your chest tightens at his words and for a second, you forget the storm swirling in your mind. He steps closer, tilting his head as if trying to read you, to peel back the layers of whatever you’re trying so hard to hide.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice low and careful.

You nod quickly but Doyoung isn’t the type to let a nod slide when your eyes tell a different story. He moves over to the bed as he meets your gaze directly.

“You sure?” he presses, his tone soft but persistent, like he’s ready to sit there forever if that’s what it takes for you to answer.

You swallow hard, suddenly feeling too exposed. The words you’ve been rehearsing in your head seem to scatter like smoke, and all you can do is look at him- really look at him. The way his brows pinch slightly in concern, the way his eyes hold that quiet strength you’ve come to depend on.

“What?” he murmurs, brushing his nose against yours before pulling you into a kiss. The minty test on his tongue amuses you enough to relax you.

“You really went and brushed your teeth,” you reply, your smirk widening.

“Well… yeah,” he teases softly, his lips brushing yours again, “Talking in your face with morning breath felt rude. I know you don’t care but still…”

You laugh quietly, your hand finding his, “You’re ridiculous.”

“Ridiculously thoughtful,” he corrects, smirking now too, as his thumb gently rubs circles against the back of your hand.

For a moment, neither of you speaks. The quiet between you isn’t uncomfortable but it feels charged, like the air before a storm.

“Okay no more distractions,” he finally says, his voice low and knowing, “What’s on your mind?”

You take a breath, your heart stuttering in your chest. Here we go. You open your mouth, then close it.

Maybe not.

“I want you to come over tonight… I have to talk to you about something and I was thinking we could discuss it over dinner- I’ll make dinner and…” You trail off, the words feeling heavier as they hang in the air.

For a moment, the silence overtakes you then Doyoung scoffs playfully, breaking the tension with a teasing smirk, “Ew, don’t tell me you’re trying to steal my last name already.”

His tone is light, but the comment throws you off balance. “I- well y- Doyoung!” you stammer, your face heating up despite the weight of what you’re trying to say.

Doyoung laughs softly, leaning back against the pillows, “Relax, I’m kidding. Mostly,” he laughs. His teasing fades as he tilts his head, watching you closely, “But seriously, what’s going on? I feel like this is something you could tell me right now but you’re stalling.”

He's right as always.

You hesitate, your fingers twisting the edge of the blanket like a lifeline, “It’s… I mean… I could but it’s… complicated.”

“Complicated how?” he asks, his voice is gentle but firm, the playful edge gone entirely. His gaze sharpens, brows knitting slightly as he studies you, his full attention locked on your face.

You glance down at his chest, avoiding his eyes, “It’s just… something I’ve been keeping to myself for a while and I feel like if we’re gonna be locked in like this, you should know… but I don’t wanna mess things up between us.”

Doyoung’s expression softens, the tension easing from his shoulders as he leans in slightly. His hand comes to rest lightly on yours, “Hey,” he says softly, “You’re not gonna mess anything up. Whatever it is, it can’t be that bad.”

You want to believe him, to let his soothing voice pull you out of your own head. For a moment, you do. You nod slowly, meeting his eyes, searching them for any sign of doubt and finding none, “Okay,” you whisper, the word barely audible.

Doyoung smiles faintly, a soft, patient smile that makes your chest ache, “So…” he says, his hand moving to cup your cheek as he presses a feather-light kiss to your lips, “Just say it. It doesn’t have to sound pretty or well thought out. Just let it happen and I'll help you make sense of it.”

His words are simple but the warmth in his tone wraps around you like a safety net. You take a shaky breath, the courage flickering just a little brighter now and you nod again, “Okay,” you repeat, firmer this time and let the moment linger as you try to piece together how to begin.

You close your eyes for a moment and when you open them again, Doyoung’s gaze is steady, calm, and unwavering, like he’s silently telling you to take your time.

“It’s about what I do,” you begin, the words feeling heavy but impossible to hold in any longer, “I know I’ve never gone into detail and you’ve never asked, which I’m so grateful for… but… I...”

Doyoung’s head tilts slightly, his expression open and encouraging, “It’s okay,” he says softly.

You take a breath, your fingers tightening around the blanket, “It’s not a typical job. It’s not something people immediately understand or accept and it’s… personal in a way that’s hard to explain.”

His brow furrows slightly but he doesn’t say anything, letting you find the words.

“I’m a camgirl,” you finally say, the confession leaving your lips in a quiet rush.

The silence that follows feels deafening. You brace yourself, your pulse hammering in your ears as you watch his expression but Doyoung doesn’t flinch. His brows knit for a moment, his head tilting just slightly as he processes what you’ve said.

“Okay,” he says eventually, his voice calm and low, “So, how long have you been doing that?”

You blink, his reaction throwing you off guard, “Um… since college,” you admit, “It started as a way to pay bills when things got tight then I realized I was good at it and it gave me this… independence I never really had before so I... I kept it to myself because I thought… I thought people wouldn’t get it.”

Doyoung hums softly, leaning back slightly but keeping his hand on yours, “I can see why you’d feel that way,” he says after a moment, “But… it’s something you chose for yourself, right? Something you’re in control of?”

“Yes,” you say quickly, the answer bursting out of you, “That’s one of the reasons I do it. I set the rules. I decide what happens. It’s not perfect but it’s mine.”

He nods, his expression is thoughtful, “That makes sense.”

You blink, feeling a small flicker of hope, “You’re… not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” Doyoung asks, his brow lifting, “It’s your life, your decisions. I mean, I’d be mad if you didn't wanna do it but you felt like you had no other choice because I'd… I'd get another job or something but it sounds like you’re doing this on your own terms.”

“I am,” you whisper.

“Then no, I’m not mad,” he says firmly, squeezing you closer to him, “I’m glad you told me. I know it wasn’t easy.”

The relief hits you like a wave and you feel tears prick at the corners of your eyes, “I was so scared,” you admit, your voice shaking.

The room falls into a comfortable hush, the kind of quiet that feels full rather than empty. Neither of you speak but the air between you hums with unspoken words.

Then he shifts slightly, breaking the silence, “CutieButton,” he says casually, though his gaze sharpens as it flicks back to you.

Your stomach drops, “What?”

“CutieButton,” he repeats, his tone lower this time, almost testing the waters, “That’s you, right?”

Your mouth goes dry, and panic rises in your chest like a tide, “How the fuck- how do you know that?”

He exhales softly, running a hand through his hair, “Okay so… I guess this is the part where I confess something too,” There’s a nervous edge to his voice, but a flicker of amusement as well, “I, uh… I’ve watched her- watched you- for a while now. Not in a creepy way or anything but… yeah. You popped up on my feed one day and I got… curious.”

He pauses, searching your face for a reaction, “You had this energy- like you were having fun… like money wasn't even a factor. Confident but approachable. I didn’t know it was you, obviously, but I couldn’t stop watching.”

You feel a mix of emotions, your heart thudding in your chest, “And now that you do know?” you whisper.

His eyes soften, a small smile tugging at his lips, “I can agree that you're really good at what you do… Really good.”

His words trail off as realization dawns in your eyes, and he grimaces slightly, “This isn't as awkward as I thought it would be.”

“But seriously,” you whisper, your face heating up as you process his words, “You’re telling me you’ve been watching me this whole time?”

Doyoung winces but holds your gaze, “Not this whole time. I stopped after we got serious. It felt weird, you know? But yeah… I watched kinda often before I realized there was something familiar about you. The way you laughed, the way you moved… I just… felt… I dunno… ”

Your head spins as you try to connect the dots, “And you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t know how to bring it up,” he admits, his voice softening, “I didn’t want to make you feel exposed or embarrassed. I figured… if by some tiny chance it really was you, you’d tell me when you were ready and… here we are… you were ready and you told me.”

The silence stretches on and the sound of your pulse pounding in your ears fills the space. Finally, you let out a shaky laugh, burying your face in the firmness of his chest, “Oh my God, Doyoung. This is insane.”

He squeezes you softly, “Hey,” he says, “It’s not insane. It’s… us and I’m still here, okay? I still feel the same way about you- maybe even more now, knowing how strong and independent you are. You’re like a… sexy little businesswoman.”

You can’t help but smile at him, emotions churning in a chaotic swirl of embarrassment, relief, and disbelief, “You’re seriously okay with this?”

“More than okay,” he replies softly, his gaze steady and unwavering. A small, knowing smile tugs at his lips, carrying a trace of admiration, “I enjoyed everything I saw far too much to be upset about you being the one behind it… and you're all mine anyway”

As he speaks, his hand moves to drape your leg over his waist, the gesture so natural that you almost don’t notice- almost.

The shift in his demeanor hits you like a wave and a soft laugh escapes you, “You’re unbelievable.”

Doyoung grins, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your forehead, “Hardly…” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “But you like it though.”

His lips trail feather-light kisses across your cheeks before finally claiming your mouth. The kiss deepens, his tongue stroking over yours, drawing a quiet sigh from your lips.

“I do,” you whisper, nodding gently as your lips stay pressed to his.

“Good,” he says, satisfaction coloring his tone as he intertwines his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand gently, “And now we can have dinner at your place tonight without any unnecessary tension.”

“Yeah,” you manage, your voice steadier now as you let out a small, relieved laugh.

“And just like that, we’re on the other side of it,” Doyoung replies, his grin softening into something playful, “I’ll bring wine.”

You nestle closer to him, letting the moment wash over you, warm and soothing. Pressing a soft kiss to his neck, you feel his arms tighten around you, anchoring you in place as if he’s quietly reassuring you that he’s not going anywhere.

The night winds down slower than Jaehyun expected, the remnants of their makeshift drinking session scattered across the table- a half-empty bottle of cheap vodka, remnants of mint juleps and hottie toddies, takeout boxes tipped over, and a lone fortune cookie that Jungwoo insists on saving because "it feels important". The air feels heavier now, thick with unspoken tension that ebbs and flows between them.

Jaehyun’s gaze flickers to Y/n, her head resting against Doyoung’s shoulder, her laughter soft and melodic as the two exchange yet another joke about tramp stamps they say the quad should get but won’t. They’re practically tangled together on the couch now, close in a way that’s hard to ignore. Jungwoo, oblivious or indifferent, is busy drumming on the table with chopsticks, his carefree grin a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere.

“You guys should just date already,” Jungwoo mutters suddenly, loud enough to startle everyone.

“What?” Y/n’s head snaps up, her wide-eyed surprise mirrored by Doyoung, who nearly chokes on his drink.

“I’m just saying,” Jungwoo shrugs, his grin widening lazily, “You look good together. No one would be mad.”

“Shut up, Woo,” Y/n waves him off, her eyes rolling almost involuntarily, “You sound ridiculous.”

But Jaehyun doesn’t miss the way her laughter falters or how Doyoung suddenly can’t meet anyone’s gaze, choosing instead to stare intently at his glass. It’s like a spotlight on something Jaehyun had been trying- and failing- not to acknowledge all night: the little moments, the lingering glances, the unspoken pull between them- just like at the ramen shop.

“It kinda looks like you two already are,” Jaehyun says, his tone light, though there’s a sharpness beneath it he can’t quite hide.

Y/n frowns, leaning forward slightly, “Why do you care so much, Jaehyun?”

“I don’t,” he snaps, too quickly, too defensively, “I just think it’s funny how glued together you two are lately. Like you’ve got some… secret thing going on.”

“Secret thing?” Doyoung echoes, raising an eyebrow. His voice is calm, but there’s a cutting edge to it, “That’s funny.”

Jaehyun stiffens up, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means,” Doyoung says, setting his drink down with deliberate force and sitting upright, “You’ve always got something to say about us but when it’s your turn to share, you act like we’re prying. Maybe figure out your own shit before you start pointing fingers.”

The tension thickens, pressing down on everyone. Y/n fidgets with the hem of her sleeve, glancing nervously between them, “Alright, let’s not turn this into a thing-”

“No, let him finish,” Jaehyun interrupts, leaning forward, his jaw tight, “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“Fine,” Doyoung’s tone sharpens, his eyes locking on Jaehyun’s, “My problem is that you can’t seem to let anyone else be happy without making it weird. Maybe instead of trying to figure out if something’s going on between me and Y/n, you should figure out why it bothers you so fucking much.”

The room falls silent, the air thick with unresolved tension. Jaehyun clenches his fists, his mind running through retorts he can’t bring himself to voice. Deep down, he knows Doyoung’s words have struck too close to home, leaving him raw and exposed.

Jaehyun exhales sharply, choosing to back off and Doyoung does the same, staying seated. Jaehyun knows he could easily overpower him if it came to that but he also knows Doyoung’s way of fighting isn’t about strength- it’s about survival. The skinniest and often underestimated among his brothers, Doyoung learned early on to fight dirty, using whatever means necessary to level the playing field. And his old reliable method is his pride and joy: “biting bitches” as Jungwoo calls it.

Jaehyun learned that the hard way at a college party, the memory of Doyoung sinking his teeth into his shoulder still vivid enough to make him think twice.

“Guys, come on,” Y/n pleads, her voice softer now, trying to defuse the situation, “Can we just… not do this tonight? Please?”

Jungwoo, who has been unusually quiet, finally speaks up, his tone carrying a rare edge, “Yeah, let’s all chill. We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?”

But Jaehyun and Doyoung remain locked in a silent standoff, neither willing to give in. Finally, Y/n slips her hand between them, her touch begs them to stop, “Enough,” she says firmly, her voice cutting through the tension as she looks at both of them with pleading eyes, “We’re all drunk and this isn’t helping anything.”

Doyoung exhales sharply, leaning back against the couch, rubbing his temples. Jaehyun mirrors his movement, though his jaw stays clenched, frustration simmering just below the surface.

“I need some air,” Y/n mutters, standing abruptly. She doesn’t look at either of them as she heads for the balcony, the door sliding shut behind her with a soft click.

“Great,” Doyoung mutters under his breath, “Look what you fucking did.”

“Me?” Jaehyun snaps, his voice rising with irritation, “You’re the one running your mouth about shit you don’t know anything about!”

“Oh, then please, spell it out for me then. Since you know so goddam much, why don’t you go ahead and check me on it- paint me a basic fucking picture so the next time I decide to run my fucking mouth, I’ll be sure I have the facts straight.”

“Stop,” Jungwoo interjects, his usual lightheartedness replaced by a rare sternness, “Both of you, stop. Go fix it, Jae.”

Jaehyun hesitates, glaring at Doyoung for a long moment before standing with a frustrated sigh. He steps out onto the balcony, the cool night air biting at his skin, trying to shake off the anger that still burns inside.

Jaehyun hesitates, glaring at Doyoung for a moment before standing with a frustrated sigh. He steps out onto the balcony, the cool night air bites at his skin.

Y/n leans against the railing, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. She doesn’t turn when he approaches.

“Y/n,” he starts, his voice softer than before. He’s already awakened something in Doyoung, if Y/n gets to her breaking point, she’ll cry and if she cries then Jungwoo’s sure to get set off.

“Don’t, Jaehyun,” she says, her tone tired, “I’m not in the mood.”

He takes a step closer, shoving his hands into his pockets, “I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean to ruin the night.”

She exhales heavily, finally glancing over her shoulder at him- she’s still pissed, “Why do you always do that? Pick fights when there’s no reason to?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, his voice barely audible, “Maybe… I just don’t like seeing things change.”

Her expression softens and she turns to face him fully, “Change isn’t always bad, Jae.”

“Yeah, well, it doesn’t feel that way,” he mutters, “It feels like everyone’s moving on and I’m… fuckin’ stuck.”

“You’re not stuck,” she says gently, stepping closer, “You’re just scared and that’s okay but you need to stop pushing people away.”

He meets her gaze, “You and Doyoung…”

“We’re still just friends,” she says quickly, though her hesitation doesn’t go unnoticed, “That’s all.”

Jaehyun nods, though uncertainty lingers, “I just don’t want to lose what we have. Any of us.”

“You won’t,” she says firmly, placing a hand on his arm, “But you’ve got to stop fighting it every step of the way.”

He exhales, nodding again, “Okay.”

The moment stretches and the city lights cast a soft glow over them. Finally, she smiles and gives his arm a gentle squeeze, “Come on, let’s go back inside. Jungwoo’s probably gonna eat my leftovers.”

Jaehyun chuckles, following her inside. As he sits back down, he swallows his pride and glances at Doyoung, “I was out of line,” he says quietly.

Doyoung nods, his tone softer now, “So was I.”

The tension eases and Jaehyun leans back, his shoulders relax, “I didn’t mean to ruin everything tonight.”

Doyoung offers a faint but genuine smile. It's the kind that carries forgiveness without needing to say it outright, “You didn’t,” he says warmly.

The atmosphere in the room shifts, lighter now, settling into something easier. Jungwoo, sprawled out on the couch like he owns the place, lets out a dramatic sigh, his grin wide, “Yes… This is better. See? Now Doyoung doesn’t have to start biting bitches.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes and chuckles, “Shut up, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo’s laughter fills the space, loud and infectious, and for the first time all night, things feel okay again.

Doyoung’s occasional quips bring warmth back to the conversation and Jaehyun finds himself laughing along despite the lingering heaviness that still lines his chest.

As the hours slip by, one by one, they begin to succumb to exhaustion. Jungwoo is the first to drift off, his head tilted awkwardly against the armrest of the couch. Doyoung follows soon after, his voice fading mid-sentence as he mumbles about falling asleep on full stomachs, “Don’t lay too far back… if you vomit…” and with that, he leans into Y/n.

Jaehyun tries to keep his eyes open but sleep eventually claims him too.

~

The room is dark when Jaehyun’s restless thoughts pull him back from the edges of sleep. The faint glow of the TV casts long shadows across the living room, the sound is muted but it still plays quietly in the background.

Jaehyun blinks, adjusting to the dim light. Jungwoo is curled up beside him, snoring softly, his legs draped haphazardly over the couch cushions. Turning his head, Jaehyun’s gaze falls on Doyoung and Y/n.

They’re tangled together in the corner of the couch, a picture of quiet intimacy. Doyoung’s head rests against Y/n’s chest, her arm wrapped loosely around his shoulders. Her fingers are splayed gently against his back, holding him with a tenderness that makes Jaehyun’s chest tighten.

For a very fleeting moment, Jaehyun feels something close to peace- an odd, unexpected sense of contentment at seeing Doyoung so vulnerable and at ease. He hardly ever gets to see him like this, not only unguarded and soft against the world but also in a way where he seems very much like a man alive and resting as opposed to his usual coffin-like slumber. Jaehyun knows how hard Doyoung tries to be strong for them, to carry their weight when they stumble, and he can never thank him enough for it.

He knows he’s selfish, though. Knows that if anyone’s earned a love as effortless and warm as Y/n’s, it’s Doyoung. But even knowing that, he can’t bring himself to just let it go. That quiet yearning sits heavy in his chest, unresolved and tangled with guilt.

If Jaehyun were honest with himself, he’d admit that it’s Jungwoo who does it for him. It’s Jungwoo who makes him feel limitless, like he’s a man worthy of being seen, wanted, and desired in a way that feels terrifyingly real. But honesty has never been Jaehyun’s strong suit- not when it comes to the things that see through him, the things that call him out in a crowded room and strip him down to expose the raw, fragile pieces he tries so hard to hide.

Doyoung stirs and his eyelids flutter open, the movement being just faint but enough to catch Jaehyun’s attention. He blinks a few times, his gaze sweeping across the room as if piecing together his surroundings. When his eyes meet Jaehyun's, they linger.

For a moment, the room feels like it’s holding its breath. Doyoung’s expression is unguarded- not tense or challenging but quietly fixed. There’s a gentle plea in his gaze, one that almost seems to say, “Please don’t ask me a question you’re not ready to answer yourself”.

Jaehyun holds his gaze, unable to look away but equally as unable to speak. The silence between them feels like an unspoken understanding, fragile but just enough- for now at least.

Doyoung’s eyelids flutter shut once more and he shifts slightly, melting back into Y/n’s embrace. Her arms tighten around him almost instinctively and the movement is so natural that it seems as if she’s always been there to hold him. Like she was created to.

Jaehyun exhales slowly, leaning back against the couch. His thoughts swirl but he lets them quiet as his gaze lingers on the two of them. They look so at peace, tangled together in a way that feels effortless and real.

As sleep begins to pull him under again, the image remains- soft, steady, and unshakably honest. It’s a moment he can’t fully process yet but he knows it matters.

[malereaderpage]

grind on | hamada asahi

► asahi x bottom virgin male reader

► smut

"what club is this exactly, haru?" you ask your friend. he smirks at you. "a gay bar, duh." he answers your question. "why are we at a gay bar exactly?" you question him. "to loose our virginity, dumbass. come on, don't you get horny frequently? now that we are of legal age, let's get our grind on." says haru. 'he does have a point.' you think to yourself. you give in. "alright, alright." haru claps his hands in excitement. "okay, let's have a few shots just to get us tipsy, i'm sure we'd like to remember this unforgettable night!" he squeals.

you chuckle and nod in agreement. "okay, now, let's split up and meet here again at midnight which is in four hours. if something goes wrong, call me my phone will be off of silent but please just call me if it's something serious, got it?" you hum in response. "got it, i will and same goes for you, haru."

the two of you split up. you roam around inside the club, not sure how to do this. you don't have alot of experience, especially when it comes to wooing someone. you sigh and lean against the wall. "what am i doing?" you mumble, asking yourself. you look up and allow your eyes to scan through the dance floor of dancing guys. a few catches your eyes  but you don't dare go up to any of them, too scared that'll you'll just embarrass yourself.

while you contemplate your life choices, someone has you peeking their interest. he stops a waiter and whispers something in his ear, still keeping his eyes on you. the waiter nods and approaches you. "hey, uh, someone told me to tell you to meet him in room 569." he leaves before you can interrogate him.

after a few moments of silent conflict, debating in your head to go or not, you decide to go. 'come on y/n, you came here to loose your virginity. oh god, please be a young handsome man and not a old creepy guy.' you think to yourself as you approach room 569. you knock on the door, hearing no one you invite yourself in and close the door behind you. there's no one. you sit on the bed that's provided. you stare at your lap until a knock rings through your ears, making you look up.

you gulp. the door opens and it reveals a handsome looking guy. you feel yourself relax and you mentally sigh in relief. 'good lord he's hot.' you think to yourself. "are you the one that told that waiter to tell me to meet in this room?" you ask him. closing the door behind him and leaning against the wall, his hands sliding into his pant's pockets he nods in response. "you are of legal age, right?" he inqures. you nod. "...why?" you ask him. he pushes himself off of the wall and approaches you. you lean back when he reaches the bed, his hands on both sides on the bed next to your thighs. "because i want to fuck you." he says lowly. "that's if you grant me permission to, of course." he adds. your heart skips a few beats.

you are nervous yet excited, already you can feel your starting to become hard. "may i fuck you?" he questions, his hand goes onto your thigh and he squeezes, making you gasp as your breathing escalates. "y-yes." you stutter. "what's your name, pretty boy?" his hand travels up further. "y/n." you reply. "w-what's your n-name?" you curse yourself mentally, still very nervous so you can't help your stuttering state. "asahi." he tells you. asahi comes closer and you find yourself moving back so that he can hover above you properly. he senses your nervousness. "no need to be nervous, y/n."

"is this your first time?" he asks you. you nod in response. "well then you are in good hands," he reassures you. "i'll be careful." asahi adds, leaning in. his lips meets your neck's skin. "don't be," you tell him. he pulls back and smirk. "if you can handle a second round, i promise i'll be anything but careful." you are definitely hard by now and a feeling of thrill rushes through your body. you only nod. asahi leans back in but this time he captures your lips. while he kisses you, you allow his hands to roam across your body.

your hands on the other hand is positioned awkwardly by your chest, not really sure where to put them. asahi's hands comes in contact with yours and he guides them to his head. asahi pulls back slightly. "grip them and tug on them as hard as you like, play with them if you want to." he tells you. his voice is just so attractive you almost don't get what he said. just like asahi told you, you grip his hair and he goes back to making out with you. "open your mouth, pretty boy." he says. you oblige and you gasp when his tongue slips past your lips. asahi's hands travles to your thighs and then your legs, wrapping them around his waist.

you whimper when your crotches brush against each other but you moan when asahi sucks on your tongue. becoming desperate for friction, you buck your hips against asahi's. asahi groans. he wraps his arms around you as he sits on his knees, you sitting on his lap. he breaks the kiss and trails wet kisses from your jaw to your neck and then sucks. you moan, tugging on his locks which makes asahi grunt, loving the way you are handling his hair. asahi pulls back, your arms around his neck. "let's get rid of this shirt, hm?" you allow him to take off your shirt. "c-can i take off yours?"

asahi finds it cute how you shyly ask. he nods in approval and you take off his shirt. asahi lies you back down and he discards your pants and boxers, you doing the same to asahi. asahi hovers above you, kissing from your chest to your lower stomach. you gasp once again when his mouth comes in contact with your hard dick. you grip the sheets as he begins to suck you off. his tongue works expertly as he licks and swirls your dick. "f-fuck." you choke out. "does it feel good, pretty boy?" he asks you as he strokes your shaft. you hum and nod. "so good," you say breathlessly.

asahi picks up his pace and you begin to become a whiny mess. you feel tension build up within your stomach and you arch your back. "hmm, i'm gonna c-cum!-" you are cut off by your orgasm hitting you. you gasp in surprise and girp asahi's hair as he works on your hole, licking it your rim. "this is gonna feel very weird at first, y/n." he warns you and his finger slips inside of you. he's right, it does feel weird, however, as you get use to the feeling he adds another finger in attempt to stretch you out and you start to become more vocal which tells asahi he can speed up and does just that.

as your second orgasm for the night builds up, asahi stops and you whine in protest but immediately stop once you feel asahi's dick run against your entrance. "this'll hurt but i'll be careful as possible." he alerts you. you nod and grip his shoulders for moral support. he enteres slowly and your grip on asahi's shoulders tightens, your short nails digging into his skin. once fully inside he distracts you by praises and soft gentle kisses.

after a few minutes you feel yourself relax around him. "o-okay, you can move." you inform him. asahi thrusts are slow and gentle, your whinning drives him crazy but he controls himself from fucking you mercilessly.

"f-faster...p-please," you beg. "as you wish, pretty boy." asahi's thrusts escalates and you become a moaning mess, skin slapping much more audible and asahi's groans and grunts are much more frequent. your moans are driving asahi crazy. he loves the way you clench around him. "fuck." he curses under his breath. you hum in content as he continues to pound into you, you moan loudly when he hits a certain spot and asahi smirks. "right here huh?" you only nod in response as your grip on the sheets tighten.

you arch your back and your hands finds asahi's back and you can't help but scratch at his back as he continues to abuse your prostate again and again, familiar feeling builds up within your stomach the second time. your dick leaks of precum, aching to be touched as your orgasm nears. one of asahi's hands grips your dick roughly which makes you gasp and asahi sees this as a opportunity to kiss you, shoving his tongue into your mouth and you moan into the kiss. asahi begins to stroke you, matching the speed of his thrusts.

"ah!" you moan again, only for it to travel into asahi's mouth. you arch your back which causes breaking the kiss, asahi's lips attacking your neck. you cum and asahi then focuses on reaching his own high. "where can i cum, pretty boy?" he pants, close to cumming. you whine, sensitive after cumming. "i-inside of me." asahi nods and cums inside of you. asahi pulls out, still hovering above you he smirks. "next time i won't be as gentle. here, to contact me. let's meet up soon, pretty boy."

with that, he get's off of you and get's dressed, leaving you alone in the room. you squeal, beyond content. "wow. that was amazing." you say to yourself. "i can't wait to tell haru. and i can't wait to meet up with asahi again."

[dobbysposts]

—night stroll; p. jihoon.

➤ PAIRINGS: jihoon x male reader

➤ GENRE: non idol au, fluff, crack, suggestive

➤ WARNINGS: male reader is drunk, language

"jihoon look it's a little kitty cat!" you exclaimed drunkenly, walking up to the cat as jihoon followed closely behind you. you crouched down beside it, the cat coming up to you. the cat allowed you to touch it.

you cooed at the cat, jihoon rolled his eyes playfully with a grin on his face. "alright, enough dilly dally y/n. let's get you home," jihoon said, placing his hands on your shoulders and pull you up, walking away from the cat. you could only look back and pout at the cat who was now sitting. "noo, we can't leave the kitty all alone." jihoon let's you go and kept walking, you following him. "it looks like it's a stray, it'll be fine," he told you. you gasp dramatically. "we have to take it to an animal shelter then." you'd become very chatty and dramatic when drunk. jihoon could handle it but he knew the friends you hung out with wouldn't be able to handle it so he wanted you home as fast as possible.

it went quiet as the two of you walked side by side. you start to occasionally hiccup. jihoon snickered. "what?" you asked. "your hiccups, it's funny." you hiccup again which made jihoon laugh. "y-yah! it's not—" *hiccup* "—funny!—" *hiccup* jihoon found it hilarious and at this point he was laughing his ass off.

even though you were not as drunk as before, you didn't think much and pinned jihoon against the wall with his hands above his head. his laughter stopped. he was pushing your buttons on purpose. he knew that you'd eventually do something like this. his desire to kiss you was so strong. the way he looked at you made you feel some type of way.

it was as if you were in a trance. jihoon leaned in slowly to see if he was crossing any boundaries. you stayed put which meant he was fine so jihoon eliminated the space between the both of you and his lips came in contact with yours. you shut your eyes and your grip on his wrists loosened. your hands were now on his cheeks as his wrap around your neck. as the kiss become more intense your one hand goes to his waist and pulled him closer. your pants was starting to become uncomfortably tight. jihoon had a boner as well and he could feel yours against his thigh.

you groan into the kiss. you were starting to get desperate for friction. jihoon noticed so he broke the heated makeout session. "were in public mister. let's continue this at our place, hm?" he said lowly. you nod. taking his hand in yours you drag him all the way to your shared apartment to finish what jihoon had started.

[absolutebl]

Good morning ABL 👋

1st of all: Happy New Year! 🎆 I hope the new year will be filled with good music and great BL (not necessarily combined 😉). Thanks for having been my BL guru for approximately 1.5 years now. 💕

Talking about music, I gotta admit as a STAY I was a little prickly at first about your comment. But then again, Korean sound engineering is a DISGRACE that makes my ears bleed every time. And yeah, singing isn’t SKZ strongest suit. (I wish them at least one acoustic, “stripped” kind of record this year. I’d call it “Back to Our Roots” and use the occasion to pause the hair dyeing for a bit [you know, those other “roots”]. And a LOT of rest!) But then again nobody can equal Yunho! 🤯

Moving on. I still have one question left. I’m sure we all know how you feel about actors singing in BL. But what’s your opinion about singers acting? And who (preferably 4th gen since I don’t know many older acts other than Shinee 😅) would you nominate to star in a BL?

Yours sincerely,

— Thel. 💚

Thank you for not goign rabid on me rgr Stray Kids.

And who (preferably 4th gen since I don’t know many older acts other than Shinee 😅) would you nominate to star in a BL?

Ooo, well I did do a pick a while ago but I think it was mostly 3rd and 2nds gens, some 4ths at the end.

Top 10 Kpop Idol BL Fantasy Cast List

Feel free to ignore if it's not interesting for you, but since you're into kpop (at least a little?) are there any idols you wish you could

Here's the ones I picked for 4g:

Okay, top 10 Kpop 4th gen picks to do BL!

FANTASY people, this is not like likely to happen. I'm being ridiculous.

Jungwon (Enhypen) - what can I say I have a thing about cat-like humans, also so flipping adorable. 

Sunghoon (Enhypen) - and I want him to star in the Korean adaptation of Yuri on Ice - this will not happen on so many levels its unreal (not the least of which is Japan will NEVER let go of that IP), but that doesn't stop me from wishing

Felix (Stray Kids) - of course it has to be him, I mean it probably could be Hyunjin but I highly doubt that boy can act. 

Seonghwa (Ateez) - he’s just so beautiful, but also I think Yunho is a pretty darn good actor, so he’s my second choice. 

Yuta (NCT) - I mean, come on, no question, there is a part of me that half expects him to do like the next Old Fashion Cupcake in a decade or so after NCT disbands and he returns to Japan

Johnny (NCT) - tall and flexible? What’s not to want on screen? He’d be a great cheeky flirty seme character. 

Jungwoo (NCT) - he looks like Taemin and he is possibly one of the prettiest drags I have ever seen, not sure he can act tho.

Lim Jimin (Just B) - no, but just LOOK at him

Boyz = Kevin, Juyeon, New, Sunwoo - do I need to explain? No I don't think so. I could pick more because the Boyz = visuals

OnlyOneOf = all of them of course, oh... hey....

[taesea]

Yoonmin mb♡

@phaelics

[andyareyouokay]

The Tragic Comedy of Jung Jaehyun Pt. 1

non idol!Jaehyun x non idol!Jungwoo, black fem!reader

Genre: Romance, slow burn, drama, light smut, comedy

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Childhood trauma, mentioned homophobia and biphobia, internalized biphobia (to a certain extent), vague mentions of mental health issues, male receiving and giving oral sex, female giving and receiving oral sex, smoking (cigarettes and marijuana), filmed female masturbation, online sex show, reader is lowkey on her hot girl shit, Jaehyun is going through some shit

Author's note: Happy New Year!!

Summary: Jaehyun, Y/n, Jungwoo, and Doyoung were inseparable after meeting in college but Jaehyun's oldest and longest friend is Y/n. As college freshman out in the world on their own for the very first time, they meshed together so seamlessly that Jaehyun always felt as if she was meant for him. He felt at home with her and that everything would just make sense if she would only give him an inkling of hope that she wants him too but Jungwoo floated into his orbit and everything he felt he should have with Y/n, effortlessly fell into place with Jungwoo. Jaehyun's not happy with that though and as he tries to piece together Y/n's double life while trying to prove to everyone that there is something going on between her and Doyoung and that he isn't just jealous and crazy, he's forced to face his own demons head on.

dividers brought to you by @thecutestgrotto

If someone had told Jaehyun that he’d still be friends with people he met in college, he would have laughed but here they are. And honestly, he wouldn’t change it for anything.

“If you keep leaving that damn cricket bin open, Jaehyun, I swear to God-” Doyoung exhales heavily, his frustration palpable.

“Don’t threaten me. I’ll fold your shit with a guinea pig,” Jaehyun laughs, unbothered.

Doyoung shakes his head but drops the argument. He knows Jaehyun well enough to know that he’s not bluffing. If there’s anyone who’d joyfully chase him around with a cricket or worse, it’s Jaehyun.

Why Doyoung works at a pet store despite being scared of animals is a question none of them have managed to answer. Maybe it’s the low-stress vibe, the steady paycheck, or simply the company. Whatever the reason, it works.

The store itself is Jungwoo’s impulsive brainchild, born entirely out of spite. His mother once said he wouldn’t last a year running his own business but post graduation, Jungwoo set out to shut her up and six years later, the store is thriving. Ironically, she’s now a regular, swinging by monthly for cat food despite their tense relationship. She wanted a daughter-in-law and grandchildren but foster pets and Jaehyun is the best Jungwoo can do for her.

“DK, you taking a break?” Jaehyun asks as his eyes scan the shipment list for the next morning.

“Are you paying my portion of the Wi-Fi bill?” Doyoung replies from behind the counter, perched on a stool with firm but unbothered look on his tired face.

“No.”

“Then stop asking me about breaks. I can’t afford one,” Doyoung shrugs before glancing at the clock, “Y/n should be back any minute now, though.”

Right on cue, Y/n bursts through the door with a paper bag in hand, “Doie! I got your food, love,” she sings as she heads straight behind the counter.

“There’s my girl!” Doyoung beams as she sets the bag down in front of him.

“Eat. I’ll cover for you until you’re done,” Y/n says and punches back in on the register.

“Stop enabling him. Oh my God,” Jaehyun mutters. He shakes his head in vain. She’ll always baby Doyoung. Even when he’s wrong.

“Oh, shut up. He needs to eat too, you know. Not everyone’s lucky enough to have a manager’s salary,” Y/n fires back playfully.

“He literally refused the position- what the hell!” Jaehyun protests, “He was the perfect candidate, and-”

“You got my leftovers,” Doyoung interrupts before blowing on his too-hot-to-eat burrito.

“Yeah, because you’re chicken shit and that’s why you don’t have the position,” Jaehyun huffs.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re lucky to have a job you don’t qualify for because I didn’t want it,” Doyoung teases, a smirk plays on his lips and Jaehyun bites back his laughter.

Y/n laughs at them both, her face lighting up in a way that makes both Doyoung and Jaehyun pause. She’s always laughed at Doyoung’s jokes, no matter how lame and her laughter has a way of filling the room with warmth.

Doyoung has never been much of a comedian but Y/n always laughs at his jokes- genuine and full-bodied laughter that seems to brighten every corner of the room. It doesn’t matter how mundane or unfunny his comments might be; she finds something in them worth laughing about and it makes him shine in a way Jaehyun can’t ignore.

Jaehyun envies him for it just a little. When Doyoung joined their circle, Jaehyun had lost any illusion of keeping Y/n’s attention solely to himself. It isn’t that he resents Doyoung- it’s far from it. He loves Doyoung like a brother. Their friendship was built on sharp wit and a mutual understanding that's kept them grounded and together with Y/n and Jungwoo, he’s worked to pull Doyoung out of the shell he’d been hiding in when they first met him.

They all carried their own baggage but Doyoung, no matter how hard he tried, wore his on his sleeve. His pain was raw and visible and somehow, that vulnerability made him the glue that held them all together and still binds them after all these years. Y/n’s laughter was proof of that; constant and unyielding, it remains as a reminder to all of them that even in the heaviness, there could still be light.

An elderly man steps Into the store, “Do you people train dogs?”

“You people? Is it because we’re Black?” Y/n deadpans without missing a beat.

Doyoung lowers his head, biting into his burrito to stifle a laugh, while Jaehyun busies himself sorting loose change by the register.

“I- well, uh, no- I meant… well, they’re not Black,” the man stammers, gesturing toward Doyoung and Jaehyun.

Y/n crosses her arms, “Wrong. We’re siblings. Genetics don’t care much about who looks like what,” she says flatly but her eyes hold a challenge.

The man looks like he’d rather be anywhere else, “Uh… do you train dogs or not?”

“No, but Fur Babies Spa up the block does,” Jaehyun says smoothly as he tries in vain to hide a smirk, “Ask for Kyungsoo. Tell him Jae sent you.”

The man mumbles a “thank you” and leaves in a hurry.

As the door swings shut, Doyoung drops his head against the counter, laughing almost too hard, “Good God, Y/n.”

“He’ll think twice before he says some shit like that again,” she replies with a shrug.

Jaehyun grins, “So, if we were siblings, I’d be Michael, Y/n would be Janet, and Doyoung… you’d be Tito.”

“Fuck you- I’d at least be Rebbie. I'm hot and I mind my business,” Doyoung retorts through a mouthful of burrito.

Y/n giggles before stepping behind him to wrap her arms around his shoulders in a quick hug, “And that’s why we love you, Doie,” she says, planting a kiss on his cheek.

Jaehyun feels another flicker of envy but it fades as Jungwoo strides out of the employee office, clipboard in hand, “Alright, so Fur Babies Spa wants to host their adoption event during our sale next month. Kyungsoo’s bringing his whole staff and Hyuck said he’ll help for the day. It’s gonna be chaos, so prepare your tits.”

Doyoung groans, “Can I do a half-day? Please?”

Jungwoo shrugs but Jaehyun raises a hand, “No. Well… if Hyuck’s helping, maybe. No promises.”

Y/n glares at Jaehyun, “I’m sorry, Filipe from Handy Manny lookin’ ass, I didn’t realize you run this place,” she snaps.

Doyoung gives Jaehyun a sly smile and bites back a laugh.

“I do. I’m the manager, fuckhead,” Jaehyun scoffs.

Y/n doubles down with a smirk, “But do you own the store? No, fuckhead, so shut up. Woo, Doie doesn’t have to do a full day, right?” She turns her attention to Jungwoo, effectively shutting down Jaehyun’s rebuttal.

Jaehyun reaches out to pinch her arm gently, “Be nice to me, jerk,” he chuckles. He’s not sure why, but pinching her has become his favorite thing- there’s something thrilling about the softness of her body. It’s an innocent habit but it lingers in a way he can’t quite explain.

“You started it,” she shoots back playfully.

“I’m not worried about him leaving early,” Jungwoo interjects, his is tone soft but final, “Doie, it’s fine. You can help me with the bookkeeping afterward. I meant to ask if you’d be down for that. It’d be a good way to make up for the lost hours.”

Jungwoo’s fluffy brown hair falls into his eyes and he brushes it back absentmindedly. Jaehyun notices the slight flatness in his tone, a telltale sign that Jungwoo isn’t entirely himself today. His stomach flips with concern. Later, he decides, he’ll buy Jungwoo donuts to cheer him up. For now, though, something unexpected pricks at him- bookkeeping with Jungwoo has always been their thing. Yes, it’s mundane and tedious but there’s an unspoken intimacy in doing something so routine with Jungwoo.

“I was gonna help,” Jaehyun mumbles, slightly defensive, “I mean, I guess I can skip out this time…” He trails off, relieved when Y/n doesn’t push the issue. Her curious glance lingers for just a moment too long and Jaehyun wonders- definitely not for the first time, if she knows more than she lets on.

Jungwoo pats Jaehyun’s shoulder lightly, “If you’re feeling left out, inventory’s coming up. You can help me with that, Manager Jung,” he teases as his lips quirk into a subtle smile.

The look Jungwoo gives him is soft, knowing, and it twists something deep inside Jaehyun. He averts his gaze quickly. With each passing day, it becomes harder and harder to look at Jungwoo for too long, not when the weight of unspoken feelings sits between them.

“Dude, shut up,” Jaehyun snorts but the words don’t carry the bite he wants. Still, a feigned attempt at their once usual banter feels better than nothing.

Later that afternoon, Jungwoo’s face lights up when Jaehyun returns from the café next door with a box of donuts.

“Ooooh… how’d you know I needed donuts?” he asks, leaning into Jaehyun, who gives in to the pull of the moment and presses a soft kiss to Jungwoo’s forehead.

“You barely smiled today,” Jaehyun murmurs before nudging Jungwoo’s head with his own, “Figured you needed a little pick-me-up and now you’re smiling, so I’d say I aced my mission.”

Jungwoo bites the inside of his lip, a faint blush dusts his cheeks, “Thanks… I didn’t realize I looked that bad off today.”

Some days, Jungwoo just isn’t himself. His usual warmth dims and leaves everyone feeling the absence of his light. But he’s easy to please: sometimes it’s a spontaneous group hug disguised as a “company huddle”; other times, it’s quiet words of encouragement, and sometimes- like today- it’s just donuts and affection.

“Come on, pick one,” Jaehyun says before opening the box and beckoning Jungwoo closer.

Jungwoo’s eyes land on a red-frosted donut, and he smiles, “Can I have this one?”

“Of course. It’s not like it was mine or anything,” Jaehyun teases.

Jungwoo hesitates, “No, you take it. I like jelly donuts anyway-”

“I got that one for you,” Jaehyun interrupts gently, “I promise. It’s yours.”

Jungwoo studies him for a moment before taking the donut, his fond smile growing. Today, for some reason, Jungwoo looks even more ethereal and it terrifies Jaehyun how deeply he feels it.

When this started, it was just supposed to be sneaking around. A way for both of them to get off without disrupting their friendship but somewhere along the way, Jaehyun realized he’d fallen headfirst into something he couldn’t pull himself out of.

“Don’t fall in love with me, Jae,” Jungwoo had joked early on, “Once you pick me up, I’m impossible to put down.”

At the time, Jaehyun had laughed it off. Now, it feels more like a prophecy he never saw coming. Because the truth is, he doesn’t want to put Jungwoo down. There's a hole in his spirit and every moment he can’t touch Jungwoo- whether it’s a soft and lingering touch, a kiss, or simply a moment of rowdiness met with fake wrestling- that gaping cavern will ache and fester until it rots if it’s left ignored for too long.

“Doie and Y/n left already you know,” Jungwoo says softly, “Said they were gonna catch a movie downtown… I didn’t feel like going and I probably should’ve told you but I wanted your company.”

Jaehyun is reminded that no matter how cool he thinks he’s being, it’s never enough and Jungwoo sees right through him.

“Wanted me to yourself?” he asks not so casually, fingers playing out Queen’s My Melancholy Blues on the countertop. Jungwoo nods, “I’m gonna go put this in the office. Can you go lock the doors?”

Jaehyun moves around the counter and goes to lock the doors before flipping the sign to closed. He pulls down the blinds and inhales slowly. The realization that he can hear his heart hammering in his ears draws a humorless chuckle past his parted lips and he wanders into the tiny office to find Jungwoo leaned against the small corner desk, “I wanna go home, Jae,” he says softly and his eyes are needy.

“Yeah… Yeah… You stay here, I’ll do the rounds really quick and lock everything up then we can go, okay?” Jaehyun could baby him forever. It’s easy to want to take care of Jungwoo. Past that spirited and ditsy exterior is a soft man with such a strong desire to fall in line that it sometimes scares Jaehyun.

It doesn't take Jaehyun long to do his rounds; after checking the backdoor, doing one last wellness check on the fish, reptiles, birds, and rodents, he shuts down the registers. When he’s done, they leave with donuts in tow and Jungwoo obviously wants to hold his hand but Jaehyun pretends not to notice.

The ride home is full of comfortable silence and Jaehyun is grateful for the easy traffic as finds himself using each traffic light and stop sign to lean over and press a kiss to Jungwoo’s pouty lips.

Upon closing and locking the front door, Jaehyun and Jungwoo enter the kitchen and after taking turns washing their hands and settling in, Jaehyun finds himself trying in vain to suppress the feeling booming in his stomach as Jungwoo embraces him needily. The rush that bristles over his skin is so overwhelming and instead of being tender with Jungwoo the way he wants to be, he ruins the moment for the both of them just as he always does.

Jaehyun’s fingers clench tightly into Jungwoo’s dark locks, pulling him closer, “What’s your color?” he asks, his voice is low and commanding.

Jungwoo looks up at him with pleading eyes, “Green,” he manages to say before Jaehyun brings his hand down in a sharp slap against Jungwoo’s cheek.

“You always choose green,” Jaehyun growls; his grip on Jungwoo’s hair tightes.

“Because you’re too soft,” Jungwoo gasps as tears form in the corners of his eyes.

Jaehyun scoffs and pulls Jungwoo down the hallway towards his room. He doesn’t release his hold on Jungwoo’s hair even as he opens his jeans and pushes the younger man to his knees.

“Suck it,” Jaehyun commands, shoving his cock into Jungwoo’s mouth. Jungwoo eagerly complies, tears streaming down his face as he struggles to take him in.

Jaehyun watches with a mix of satisfaction and guilt as Jungwoo gags and chokes around him.

He knows that this is what Jungwoo wants but he also knows deep down that Jungwoo craves something more tender and loving than rough sex.

“Am I still too soft for you?” Jaehyun sneers, tugging even harder on Jungwoo’s hair.

Jungwoo moans and reaches down to touch himself but Jaehyun grabs his hand and forces it away.

“Color,” he demands.

“Green!” Jungwoo gasps, trembling with need as he meets Jaehyun’s cold gaze.

With a sharp inhale and a final thrust, Jaehyun reaches his peak and pulls out of Jungwoo’ mouth. The air is thick as they both try to catch their breath. Jungwoo remains on his knees, his eyes locked onto Jeehyun's face, waiting for his next command.

Jaehyun straightens his disheveled clothes before leaning in close to Jungwoo’s ear, “Swallow,” he say, his voice laced with dominance. Without hesitation, Jungwoo complies, his throat constricting effortlessly. A sense of submission washes over him as he fulfills Jaehyun's request, solidifying their dynamic in this moment of intimacy.

Jaehyun hesitates, the weight of the moment pressing heavily on his chest. For a fleeting second, he wonders if this is it- if this is the moment he finally stays. He imagines it clearly: wrapping Jungwoo in his arms, whispering soft reassurances, and saying the words Jungwoo has been waiting to hear, “I’m happy we’re in love.”

But then the doubt creeps in, sharp and relentless as it always does. It feels safer to retreat, to avoid the unspoken promises that come with those words. He swallows the lump in his throat, pushing the warmth of Jungwoo’s gaze out of his mind as he rises to his feet.

“I’m going to shower,” he says, the words sharp and distant, a wall rises between them as he turns away.

Jungwoo doesn’t respond, and the silence follows Jaehyun all the way to the bathroom, wrapping itself around him like barbed wire.

Jaehyun stares at his phone for a long time before finally pressing her name. It rings once, twice, three times. By the fourth ring, he thinks she won’t answer but then the line clicks.

“Hello, Yoon Oh,” she says, her tone is clipped and distant as if she’s already halfway out of the conversation. She always sounds like she’d rather not talk to him.

“Hi, Ma,” he begins carefully, “How are you? I called yesterday, but you-”

“I have a life, Yoon Oh,” she interrupts tersely, “I’ve been busy with things. Is there something you need?”

Jaehyun’s stomach sinks and the faint hope that he had built up crumbles instantly. He presses the phone tighter to his ear and swallows the knot in his throat, “No, Mama,” he says quietly, “I just wanted to check in on you.”

There’s a pause that’s too heavy and suffocating. For a moment, he wonders if she’s going to hang up and he braces himself for it. It wouldn't be the first time she's done that but he hopes he won't cry until he vomits like he did the last time she put him through that ordeal.

“Well,” she finally says and her voice is as sharp as ever. It pierces Jaehyun, “You’ve checked in. What do you want me to say, Yoon Oh? I’m alive. Life is still going on.”

Her words hit him like a slap across his face. He doesn’t know what he expected; maybe warmth or at least a flicker of care but this? This cold detachment? It shouldn’t hurt after all this time but it does.

“I don’t know, Ma,” he says, trying in vain to keep his voice steady, “I thought… maybe you’d want to talk. It’s been a while.”

“I don’t know what you want from me,” she snaps, “You think you can just call me whenever you feel like it and something’s going to be different from the last time? Our lives don’t work that way, Yoon Oh. They never have- you call me, you ask me how I’m doing, I tell you I’m alive. Nothing changes and you still insist on doing this to me.”

“I know,” he says quickly, desperate to keep the conversation from spiraling despite everything, “I know. I just-”

“Just what?” she cuts in, “What do you want from me? I’m very busy.”

He hesitates, the words catching in his throat because he always upsets her. No matter how hard he tries not to, he always does and he always wishes he could be someone else. Someone whose existence isn’t so repulsive to her.

“I want you to care, mama,” is what he wants to say, “I want you to tell me you miss me. I want you to love me the way a mother’s supposed to love her son. Why don’t you love me?”

But he knows better. She doesn’t have it in her to answer him truthfully or even to hold herself accountable. She always said he was too sensitive and maybe if she had treated him accordingly as often as she ridiculed him for it, Jaehyun would’ve turned out much differently.

“Nothing,” he says finally, his voice is barely above a whisper and he feels his chest tightening, “I just wanted to hear your voice.”

There’s another pause and it’s longer this time. When she speaks again, her tone softens slightly but it’s not enough, “You’ve heard it. Anything else?”

Jaehyun closes his eyes, the ache in his chest spreads like an illness, “No, Mama. That’s all.”

“Well, while I have you on the phone,” she says softly, a hint of something Jaehyun can’t quite pinpoint in her tired voice. Jaehyun perks up for a moment; hope sparking up and prickling up all over his skin.

“Yes, mama?” he pipes up.

“Are you still smoking, Yoon Oh?”

He deflates again, “Um… well not as much as I used to. I cut back,” he lies.

“Good… You should quit. You’re still young so quit while your body is still strong,” she says, “Take care of yourself, Yoon Oh.”

“I will…” Jaehyun says, “I love you, mama.”

The line is quiet for a beat, “I have things to get back to, Yoon Oh, I can’t hang out on the phone. Take care of yourself.”

The line disconnects before he can respond.

He stares at his phone, his hand trembling slightly as he sets it down on his desk. The silence in the room feels deafening now and it wraps around him like barbed wire. He runs a hand through his hair and feels that lump spring up in his throat again. He should’ve known better and in a way already does but that doesn’t stop him from trying, even when it hurts.

Jungwoo’s familiar knock pulls Jaehyun back to reality. He blinks, suddenly aware of the tears trailing down his cheeks. He wipes them away hastily. “Yeah?” he calls out, his voice hoarse.

The door swings open and Jungwoo steps in, his presence filling the room with a sense of ease Jaehyun didn’t realize he needed. “Doyoung and Y/n went out again,” he says casually, leaning against the doorframe, “We should do something too. You look like you need it” his eyes soften as they flick to Jaehyun’s face and God- he reads Jaehyun with no effort at all, “You called her again, didn’t you?”

Jaehyun lets out a humorless laugh, one that barely sounds like himself, “Yeah,” he admits, his voice flat.

Jungwoo sighs and moves closer before sitting on the edge of the bed, “How’d it go?”

Jaehyun stares at the floor, his jaw tight, “She’s still a bitch,” he replies dryly, the words tumble out before he can stop them.

Jungwoo doesn’t react, he just nods, like he’s heard this before. And he has- every time Jaehyun gets his hopes up, every time he tries to salvage something that’s never been there. He was the one who cleaned up Jaehyun's vomit and changed his bedsheets that morning she hung up on him.

But the weight of those words isn’t as easy for Jaehyun to shrug off. He wishes he could be indifferent, that he could call her what she is and not feel like he's cutting out pieces of his own flesh. “I shouldn’t care anymore,” he says quietly, almost to himself, “But I do.”

Jungwoo leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, “Of course you care. She’s your mom. It doesn’t matter how much she screws up or how much you wanna hate her. That part of you that loves her doesn’t stop just because you want it to.”

Jaehyun lets out a shaky breath, his shoulders sagging, “Then why does it hurt so much?”

“Because you’re human, Jaehyun,” Jungwoo says simply, his tone is gentle but firm, “And because you’re a better person than she is.”

The words hang in the air and for a moment, neither of them speaks. Then Jungwoo brings a hand up to caress Jaehyun’s back, the warmth in his touch grounding Jaehyun in a way nothing else ever could.

“Come on,” Jungwoo says, standing up, “Let’s go do something. Doyoung and Y/n don’t get to have all the fun- we’re sexy too.”

Jaehyun smiles weakly then nods, letting Jungwoo pull him to his feet.

The night finds them two cities over, sharing a cigarette in a movie theater parking lot.

“You pick the movie, Jae-Jae. I always pick,” Jungwoo says as he passes the cigarette back to his boyfriend. Jaehyun smiles, “I like that you always pick. I wanna see whatever you wanna see.”

Times like this, Jaehyun wonders why he struggles with his feelings for Jungwoo. It’s so easy to love him yet he complicates it. He leans over and pushes his phone into Jungwoo’s hand, “Pick one, baby.”

Jungwoo scrolls through the movies listed before deciding on a revamped slasher film.

The theater is empty and halfway through, the movie goes on unwatched as they make out; sharing kisses and soft touches in the empty theater, Jaehyun wishes every moment could be exactly like this.

~

The drive stretches on in comfortable silence, the city fading into the outskirts. Jaehyun drives with one hand on the wheel and the other still laced with Jungwoo’s, their fingers resting lightly between them and the road ahead feels endless but neither of them care.

Jungwoo glances at Jaehyun, his face softened by the passing streetlights, “Where are we going?” he asks, his voice low and curious.

Jaehyun shrugs and a small smile tugs at his lips, “Not sure. Just… driving. You okay with that?”

Jungwoo leans his head against the window with a lazy smile, “Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

They end up at a 24-hour diner just off the highway, the kind with flickering neon signs that cast a soft, erratic glow on the parking lot. Inside, the air smells like burnt coffee and maple syrup, and the only other patron is a trucker nursing his mug in the corner. A waitress lazily scrolls her phone behind the counter and she quickly tucks it into her apron as they step through the door.

Sliding into a booth by the window, they find themselves cocooned in the faint hum of the jukebox, Do Right Woman, Do Right Man barely filling the space between them. Jungwoo grabs one of the laminated menus, flipping it open with exaggerated care.

“Pancakes or burgers…” he muses, his lips quirking into a faint smile.

Jaehyun snorts, leaning back in the booth, arms crossed, “Why are you acting like you couldn’t eat both?”

Jungwoo narrows his eyes in mock offense as his middle fingers come up, “Bite me.”

The banter is easy and familiar but the moment the waitress approaches, the energy shifts and they straighten out. Jungwoo orders pineapple soda, pancakes, and fries because, why not, and Jaehyun asks for black coffee and chicken and waffles. The waitress scribbles their orders without much interest and disappears into the kitchen.

As the stillness settles in again, Jungwoo props his chin on his hand, studying Jaehyun across the table. The dim light carves soft shadows on his face and his expression grows serious.

“You’re thinking too hard again,” Jungwoo says softly, breaking the silence.

Jaehyun huffs a small laugh and shakes his head, “How do you always know?”

Jungwoo tilts his head, his voice turning gentle. “Because you’ve been thinking too hard since the day I met you. I know that look better than anything else about you.” His gaze lingers, steady and warm. “What’s on your mind, beautiful?” he asks softly.

Jaehyun hesitates, his fingers trace idle patterns on the edge of the table, “I just… keep wondering if I deserve this. You. Us.”

Jungwoo doesn’t look surprised as he leans forward, lowering his voice like he’s sharing a secret meant only for Jaehyun, “You’ve gotta stop doing that,” he murmurs. “You can’t keep punishing yourself for things that weren’t your fault.”

The words land softly but Jaehyun still looks away, his eyes tracing the cracked vinyl of the booth seat, “I don’t know how to stop,” he admits, the vulnerability in his voice is barely above a whisper.

Reaching across the table, Jungwoo slides his hand over Jaehyun’s. His grip is firm, “You don’t have to figure it out all at once,” he says, his thumb brushing softly over Jaehyun’s knuckles, “But you don’t have to do it alone either, okay?”

The sincerity in Jungwoo’s eyes makes Jaehyun’s throat tighten. He lifts his gaze, meeting Jungwoo’s. The unwavering patience there- so endless, so real- makes something inside him loosen, just a little.

“Okay,” he says finally. It’s quiet and tentative but there’s something resolute behind it. Not a promise but a start. Maybe.

The food arrives and they eat in a comfortable silence. By the time they leave the diner, the sky is a deep indigo, the faintest hints of dawn painting the horizon. The drive to the pier is peaceful, the world outside their car still and quiet.

When they arrive, they climb onto the roof, the ocean breeze tugs at their hair. Waves crash softly against the shore, their rhythm steady and soothing and Jaehyun looks over at Jungwoo, who’s gazing out at the water, and for the first time in a long time, he feels something like peace.

Jungwoo glances back, his expression softening, “The fuck are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Jaehyun chuckles softly, leaning closer, his voice barely audible above the waves, “Just… thank you.”

Jungwoo smiles, closing the space between them as their lips meet. The kiss is slow, unhurried, and when it ends, they sit side by side, the sunrise creeping over the horizon, painting the world in hues of gold and pink.

Jaehyun didn’t plan to search for women built like Y/n. It wasn’t one of his finer moments but after that day- when her jeans hugged her just right- he’s been off his game ever since. It started innocently enough- or so he tells himself. One aimless search led to another, and before he knew it, he landed on CutieButton’s profile.

The first result.

He shouldn’t have clicked but curiosity got the better of him. One look at her and he was sold- creating an account under the alias ValentinesJ without a second thought.

CutieButton has this effortless charm but it’s her familiarity that unhinges him most. The tilt of her smile, the cadence of her laugh- it all feels too close to Y/n, enough to make his chest tighten and his hands tremble when he clicks play. Yet, despite knowing better, he keeps coming back, letting himself drown in the illusion.

It isn’t just him, though. She has MisterK, a regular in her streams who always seems to occupy her attention. Jaehyun hates the guy- irrationally, entirely, and with every fiber of his being. He doesn’t know MisterK, but the mention of his name sent heat rushing to Jaehyun’s neck, jealousy gnawing at his ribs like a slow, painful burn.

The first time Jaehyun stumbled across her, Jungwoo had been there. It wasn’t planned, just two of them lounging after a night out, distracted by nothing and everything. Y/n’s image had lingered in Jaehyun’s mind all day- her laugh, her stupidly perfect body- and CutieButton felt like an extension of that fixation. Jungwoo had chuckled at the sheer absurdity of it all but somehow, she ended up in the background of their night together.

Now, though, Jaehyun is alone and as the muted video screen dims to black, the rush of his climax barely cooling, shame washes over him like an uninvited guest. His breathing slows as he stares at the screen, her voice still echoing faintly in his head and his reflection staring back at him from this cursed black mirror.

He drops his head back against the headboard, running a hand through his hair as he tries to shove the thought of her- of Y/n- out of his head. But it won’t leave, not when everything about CutieButton refuses to turn him loose. He decides to clean himself up and go clear his head with a cigarette.

He slips his phone into pocket along with his lighter then plucks two cigarettes from the box, puts one between his lips and the other behind his ear before tossing the box down on his desk before he heads out to the living room. He pauses to look at the already unlatched window lock. He wonders who’s already up on the roof and he turns to peer around the room before heading out. Carefully he climbs the ladder up to the roof and spots Jungwoo in a corner leaning against the siding, lazily puffing away at the joint he had begged Jaehyun to roll the night before.

“So it’s you out here,” Jaehyun says as he comes up beside Jungwoo. The younger man turns and brings his free hand up to touch Jaehyun’s face then kisses him. It’s a soft and welcoming kiss, “I was just thinking about you,” he says lazily as he never quite pulls his lips from Jaehyun’s, “I think I manifested you.”

Jaehyun laughs and kisses Jungwoo back, “That’s why I couldn’t sleep?”

Jungwoo hums as he presses his lips to Jaehyun’s once more then pulls away, “Would you like a piece of your hard work?” he asks as he holds the joint to Jaehyun’s lips.

“How gracious of you.”

Jungwoo holds the joint steady, his fingers brushing Jaehyun’s as the older man takes a slow, deliberate drag, “Shotgun me, Jae,” Jungwoo murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

Jaehyun doesn’t hesitate, leaning in to press his mouth against Jungwoo’s. He exhales the smoke into him, slow and measured, and Jungwoo inhales without missing a beat, their rhythm seamless, practiced.

The memory comes back to Jaehyun, unbidden but vivid: the first time he ever smoked with Jungwoo. They’d been drowning in finals, tension high, and Jaehyun had dragged him to his car with a casual, “You need to relax.” Jungwoo had been hesitant at first, wide-eyed and curious in that way that always unsettled Jaehyun in the best way. But by the end of the night, the rookie coughs turned into easy laughs, and Jungwoo had let himself unravel just enough to make Jaehyun want to tangle himself up in him completely.

Even now, years later, Jungwoo still carries that same quiet, corruptible charm that drives Jaehyun to the edge. That delicate balance of innocence and audacity- it’s a siren’s call that he’s never learned to ignore. And in the rare occasions when he’s honest with himself, he doesn’t want to.

“You have work in the morning. Why are you awake?” Jungwoo finally asks, his voice soft but teasing.

Jaehyun smiles, flicking at the sleeve of Jungwoo’s sweatshirt, “You manifested me, remember?”

Jungwoo chuckles, the sound low and lazy, “Well, I’m gonna go to sleep. I’ll be in your room,” he leans in, pressing one last kiss to Jaehyun’s lips, “Goodnight, store manager Jung.”

Jaehyun watches him slip back inside, his steps light and unhurried. The door creaks softly as it closes behind him, leaving Jaehyun in the quiet hum of the night. He lights a cigarette, the flick of the lighter is bright against the city glow and leans against the railing, watching the passersby below.

He doesn’t hear Doyoung approach until the other man is beside him. The sudden presence makes him jump and in the process, he fumbles and drops his cigarette over the edge.

“Fuck!” Jaehyun hisses, leaning over the side. He spots a man walking below, the glowing ember narrowly missing him, “Hey! I dropped my cigarette- watch out!”

The man sidesteps at the last second, looking up in outrage, “You trying to fuckin’ kill me?” he yells.

Jaehyun leans farther over the railing, “Obviously not! I wouldn’t have fucking told you if I was trying to kill you. Who the fuck are you anyway? Go home!”

“Why the hell are you hanging a cigarette off the side of a building, asshole? You- ”

“Man, fuck you! It should’ve made contact!”

Beside him, Doyoung groans, leaning over the side to address the man, “It’s my fault! Sorry!”

The man glares up at them, “Was it your cigarette? Did you drop it?”

“Well, no, but-”

“Okay then shut the fuck up!”

Jaehyun stiffens, bristling as he grips the railing. His voice drops, laced with heat, “Don’t you fucking talk to him like that!”

The man takes a step back, muttering something inaudible but Jaehyun doesn’t care. His glare stays fixed on his retreating figure until he disappears down the street.

Doyoung sighs and crosses his arms, casting Jaehyun a side glance, “Was that really necessary?”

Jaehyun shrugs, toying with his lighter, “He had it coming.”

Doyoung lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, “You’re impossible.”

“You’re welcome,” Jaehyun mutters, smirking as he leans back against the railing.

Doyoung chuckles softly, sliding down to sit on the rooftop floor. He stretches his legs out in front of him, leaning back against the siding. Jaehyun follows, sinking down beside him with a grunt, their laughter still lingering in the quiet night air.

“How was therapy today?” Jaehyun asks, lazily setting his lighter aglow before putting it out and repeating it again and again, the motion absentminded but steady.

Doyoung tilts his head, his lips curling into a small, thoughtful smile, “It was good. I came up with a new way to disregard how shitty my dad was to me,” he says, voice light but laced with a hint of triumph.

Jaehyun raises a brow, intrigued, he plucks the cigarette from behind his ear and lights it then turning away ,“Oh yeah? I’m listening, “he says, “Maybe it’ll help me deal with my mom.” He grabs their recycled coffee can that now lives out its life as a makeshift ashtray.

Without missing a beat, Doyoung deadpans, “She’s gonna have to die first.”

Jaehyun barks out a startled laugh, nearly choking on the smoke curling from his lips, “Jesus, Doyoung- what the hell? I’m still curious though- what’s your magic trick?”

Doyoung smirks, leaning forward as if he’s about to share some scandalous secret, “Alright, so anytime I start believing all the bullshit he used to say about me, I just play a really great song that came out after he died. It’s like, ‘You never got to hear Wesley’s Theory, so fuck you’.”

Jaehyun stares at him for a beat, processing his words, before bursting into laughter, “That’s so petty, dude… I kinda love it… Wait...” He squints at Doyoung, suspicion creeping in, “Are you high right now?”

“Uh huh,” Doyoung hums, completely unbothered, a satisfied smile tugs at his lips.

Jaehyun snorts, shaking his head as he flicks ash from his cigarette, “You’re unbelievable.”

Doyoung leans his head back against the siding, staring up at the dark expanse of the sky, “I keep telling you, my brilliance thrives under pressure... Or weed… One of those.”

“Right. Genius-level coping mechanisms,” Jaehyun mutters, exhaling smoke through his nose.

Doyoung turns to him with a lazy grin, his eyes half-lidded but sharp in their amusement, “Don’t knock it till you try it. Maybe you need a soundtrack to tell your mom to shove it.”

Jaehyun pauses, the corners of his mouth twitch upward at the idea of a version of himself who could survive under his mother’s disdain, “Yeah but she’s alive and actively a menace. It’s not like I can just say, ‘Hey, Mom, you don’t get to hear… I don’t know… Dig Your Hips so fuck you.’”

“First of all,” Doyoung interjects, holding up a finger, “that’s a good choice. Second,” he continues, ignoring Jaehyun’s eyeroll, “you don’t even have to say it out loud. Just play the song in your head when she upsets you. It’s therapeutic.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Jaehyun mutters but the smile on his face betrays him.

“And yet, I’m your favorite person,” Doyoung says proudly.

“You’re definitely something,” Jaehyun replies, shaking his head but unable to wipe the grin off his face.

They lapse into silence for a moment, the distant hum of the city filling the space between them. Jaehyun takes another drag from his cigarette, watching the glow of the embers fade into the dark.

Doyoung breaks the quiet, “Do you think your mom even realizes how much she fucks with your head?”

Jaehyun hesitates, his fingers tightening briefly around the cigarette, “I don’t know. Probably not…Or maybe she does and she just thinks it’s for my own good.”

“That’s such a cop-out,” Doyoung says, his tone is softer now.

Jaehyun shrugs, his shoulders slumping slightly, “Yeah, well... I’m used to it. Doesn’t mean it’s easy though.”

Doyoung leans to the side, studying Jaehyun’s profile for a moment before speaking, “You know, it’s okay to let yourself be pissed about it. Even if she thinks she’s doing the right thing, it doesn’t mean she’s not hurting you… You can love someone and still be angry with them for how badly they treat you… My therapist gave me a mantra… ‘I love you even though you hurt me. I love you despite the pain I've endured at your hands’… Love and heartache can exist at the same time, Jaehyun… and you’re not a bad person for wanting your mother to give you what you deserve.”

Jaehyun glances at him, his expression unreadable but there’s a flicker of something- relief, maybe? “You really need to stop being high and wise at the same time. It’s unsettling.”

Doyoung laughs, the sound warm and genuine, “Can’t help it. I’m a multi-tasker.”

Sometimes, when Jaehyun thinks about Doyoung, his chest tightens in a way he can’t ignore. Doyoung, the second of three boys- or as he calls it, The Cursed Middle Child, fashioned into a role that wasn’t his, burdened with expectations no one ever asked if he wanted to meet, he was set up to fail by his family long before he even realized it.

When his father died, someone had to step up. Doyoung always thought that someone would be his older brother- the natural choice, the eldest, the one primed for the mantle of “man of the house” but reality was much crueler than that. His older brother, their father’s golden child, crumbled under the weight of grief, leaving Doyoung to shoulder it all- steering the family, managing their lives, drying tears, holding everything together while holding nothing for himself.

It was in those moments, drowning in responsibility, that the realization had began to creep in- a slow, relentless ache he couldn’t shake free from. Both parents had a favorite and neither of them had chosen him. He wasn’t even a second choice, just an afterthought in a family where love seemed conditional. He once said they made him feel like he was a long-term house servant- he was always just beyond the periphery, like family but never quite belonging at their table unless he’d been the one to prepare it himself.

It had taken more from him than anyone would ever understand. Sacrificing so much of himself for people too lost in their own grief to ever ask him how it felt to shoulder a weight no one should have to carry alone.

Jaehyun thinks about that sometimes- about how Doyoung’s strength was born out of necessity, his kindness shaped in the cold nights of neglect. How no one ever told him it was okay to put himself first and every time, Jaehyun’s heart breaks a little more for his friend but he also marvels at his resilience. Doyoung had every excuse to turn out bitter and cold, to let the world harden his heart and steal the light from his eyes. Instead, he’s become the love and warmth he had always longed for, the kind of person who can still find beauty in a world that, once upon a time, had given him so little.

Jaehyun shakes his head but he can’t help but smile, “Thanks, man.”

“Always,” Doyoung replies, his voice steady. He nudges Jaehyun’s shoulder with his own, “Now, what song are you claiming for your mom-related grievances? Might as well get started… We all have an expiration date…. The only infinite one is God.”

Jaehyun chuckles, flicking his cigarette butt into the small tin can beside them. “I’ll think about it. Maybe Wesley’s Theory, just to spite you.”

“Copcat,” Doyoung says but the grin on his face is undeniable.

Doyoung shuts and locks his bedroom door, the soft click loud in the stillness feels like a gunshot. He powers on his laptop, setting it on his desk, and towels his hair dry while it boots up. Once satisfied, he drops the towel and rolls it tightly before pressing it against the gap beneath the door to keep the smell contained.

From the tin box tucked in his closet, he retrieves a stubbed-out joint and a book of matches. The blunt fits comfortably between his lips as he slides the window open and props the screen in place. A cool breeze slips in, brushing against his skin, and he smiles faintly.

Striking a match, he lights the joint and the lavender candle on his desk, the flame flickering softly before he blows it out. He leans against the wall, taking long, steady drags. The smoke curls out the window before dissipating into the night air.

It takes seven hits before he feels fully settled but even the first few pull him into a calm that spreads through him like the breeze. By the time he stubs the joint out in the ashtray, the edges of his thoughts have softened and he feels that familiar calmness He flicks off the light, grabs his laptop and headphones, and collapses onto his bed with a low hum.

The warmth of the mattress cradles him as he syncs his headphones and the glow of the screen casts a faint light on his face. Navigating to his bookmarks, he clicks on a tab labeled recipes. The list contains only one link: CutieButton.

The page loads quickly, and there she is- already online, her voice like honey as she greets her viewers.

“Good evening, CuddleBug! Always a pleasure to see your name pop up. And there’s ValentinesJ- good to see you too!”

Her voice vibrates through the headphones, sinking into his chest. Doyoung leans back, peeling off his t-shirt and tossing it aside.

“Oh, MisterK, you almost slipped past me! Good evening to you, sir,” she purrs, her tone playful.

His breath hitches as he types his response into the chat box.

MisterK: Good evening, beautiful.

Cutie has her favorites but Doyoung sometimes feels as if it’s about more than the money. His tips are modest, ten dollars when he’s feeling generous but she always seems to notice him. There’s a connection there- faint, intangible, but real enough to keep him coming back.

“We’ve got a new friend! Welcome, fellow streamer TenToesOnIt!” Cutie laughs, her voice warm and bright.

A flicker of jealousy stirs in his chest at the thought of someone new stealing her attention but he pushes it down. She’s not his. He has no claim to her and certainly no right to feel possessive.

Still, it’s her resemblance to Y/n that draws him in the most- the way she laughs, her voice, her body. It’s too familiar and it twists something deep inside him. Y/n has always been untouchable, her warmth and presence something he’s admired but never dared to approach. Watching CutieButton feels safer, a proxy for something he knows he can’t have.

Cutie leans back on her bed, her lilac bra catching the light, “So… I bought this yesterday,” she says softly, running her hands over the fabric.

Doyoung swallows hard, shifting slightly as his pulse quickens. Her voice carries through his headphones and wraps around him with a sweetness like honey.

“Fuck,” he sighs.

The comments come in:

John_Doe: That’s a beautiful color on you holy shit

CuddleBug: oh you’re such a pretty girl. So soft and pretty omg 😍

TenToesOnIt: Delicious

ValentinesJ: well look at you

Doyoung decides to leave a comment too:

MisterK: You always pick the best of the best. Is this part of a set?

Cutie smiles, “Yeah… it is,” she says and stands up. The matching thong sends Doyoung into a spiral but he keeps it together as best as he can and sends another message:

MisterK: That’s almost too pretty to take off, Cutie. You look gorgeous.

Cutie giggles, “Stop,” she mumbles bashfully.

Sometimes, he wishes he could see her fully- no mask, no barriers. Just her, bare and unfiltered. Her mouth alone drives him crazy, and he can't stop imagining the way her perfect mouth might feel wrapped around him.

The thought alone has him shifting the laptop to the side as he pushes his pants down. His hand wraps around his cock instinctively, the weight heavy against his stomach as his arousal leaks mercilessly. Slowly, he spreads the slick over the his head and hisses softly at the sensation

On-screen, Cutie begins unclasping her lilac bra, her movements are teasing and slow. Doyoung's hand freezes as her bra straps fall down her shoulders, anticipation pooling low in his stomach. He knows better than to keep going- just the recoil of her tits as they spill free would be enough to push him over the edge.

He clenches his jaw, pulling his hand away as his chest rises and falls in shallow breaths. The tension builds painfully as he watches, his body practically begging for release but he holds himself back for now and waits.

~

Doyoung cums with an almost overwhelming intensity, his body trembling as he release. For a moment, he forgets to breathe, his vision whiting out as his release paints his abdomen, streaking up to his chest. His hips jerk reflexively, chasing every last bit of pleasure as Cutie's soft, desperate cries fill his headphones.

He covers his mouth with his hand, muffling his broken breaths and soft whimpers as Cutie brings her fingers to her lips sucking them clean with a lazy smile. Her voice is gentle as it coaxes him down from his high.

"Just relax now," she murmurs, her tone soothing, “Breathe with me. Take a minute while you're feeling so good and satisfied and tell yourself something kind. Something you need to hear. External validation doesn't define you. Whatever you're waiting to hear from someone else… Why don’t you go ahead and say it to yourself right now… You are your own validation.”

Doyoung exhales shakily, his eyes fluttering shut as her words sink in, "I'm easy to love... I don’t have to earn it," he whispers, barely audible.

"I hope you mean it,” she hums, “You deserve good things.”

He drags the back of his hand across his damp forehead, pushing his hair out of his face as he collapses back against his headboard. For a moment, he stays there, letting the silence and the afterglow wrap around him.

“I’m signing off for the night," Cutie continues, her voice soft and familiar. "I hope next time we can play longer. As always, thank you for spending time with me tonight... and thanks for the money.”

The chat fills with a flurry of goodbyes, and Doyoung types his own, his fingers still a little uunsteady:

MisterK: Good night, cutie <3

The livestream ends and Doyoung sighs, sitting up slowly. He grabs a towel and begins cleaning himself off as best as he can.

When he’s done, he catches his reflection in the mirror hanging on his closet door. His skin is flushed, his hair a mess and his expression is completely spent. He sighs again, deciding to smoke a little more before he goes to make his presence known to Jaehyun and Jungwoo

They’d know exactly what he was doing if they saw him like this.

[malereaderpage]

remember || lee heeseung

► heeseung x bottom male reader

► smut, innocent kink, hyung kink

your parents has left you alone with one of your dad's best and closest workers. you and heeseung aren't that close due to you two meeting recently, although you can admit he is really really hot and you'd be lying if you said you aren't attracted to him. heeseung is in your bedroom and sitting on the small couch.

you on the other hand, due to personal family issues you decide it's the best idea to raid your dad's alcohol and get's drunk. heeseung is totally unaware of this since his focus is on his mobile device. at this time it's usually when you go shower so he's not suspicious when you take a while to come back. however when you do heeseung get's up, alarmed. you giggle as you approach him, heeseung catches you before you fall but he looses his balance and the both of you fall onto the couch.

"y/n..." he trails off. "why have you been drinking?" he asks you but he knows that you aren't in the right state to answer that properly. you adjust yourself on him and sit on his lap, heeseung's breath hitches. "y/n please don't do this..." he whispers. "you are so fucking hot, you know that, right?" you slur. you start to move your hips and heeseung groans. "no, y/n, you are drunk," heeseung halts your actions and you whine in protest. "no...i'm tipsy," you correct him. heeseung scoffs and raises an eyebeow at you. he's still got a firm grip on your waist and it's turning you on more.

heeseung knows you are horny, he can feel your boner and he's slowly getting hard. "oh yeah? then how many fingers am i holding up?" one of his hands leaves your waist and is hold up in front of you. "none." you answer him. he nods in approval as his hand was formed into a fist, none of his fingers hold up. "go on then," he says. you blush and become shy as you start to realize what you are actually doing. heeseung smirks seeing that you've become shy. heeseung places his other hand on your waist once again and starts to guide you. you whimper as your crotches brush against each other. "have you ever done any of this before, y/n?" he questions you. "n-no," you stutter.

it turns heeseung on more knowing that he'll be your first, that it's the first time you are doing all of these sinful deeds. you hide your face in the crook of his neck, not really knowing what else to do as you try to keep in your sinful noises. heeseung pulls down your shirt and he leans in to kiss your shoulder. he sucks and your grip on his shoulders tighten which makes him groan in response. you begin to pant as heeseung pick up the pace. "h-hyung i f-feel weird," you tell him. "you are close to your orgasm, do you know what a orgasm is, y/n," heeseung pants. "y-yes," you answer him, moaning.

"fuck moan more for me, no need to hide those pretty noises," he says breathlessly. you moan and you cum in your boxers, heeseung stops when you do, cutting off his orgasm. you know he's turned on as well, and as much as you lack in experience, it doesn't mean you have watched no porn. you know the basics but have never tried it nor practiced before so of course you are nervous and full of doubt, however, heeseung makes you feel safe and comfortable, so you carry on.

you get off of his lap and get on your knees before him which surprises him. "m-may i?" you stutter. knowing what you mean, heeseung smirks. "are you sure you want to do this and continue? i might not be able to hold myself back from fucking you, y/n." you feel your dick twitch in your pants and you become excited. "what if i don't want you to hold back? what if i want you to fuck me, heeseung." heeseung clearly looks aroused and he curses under his breath. "okay, y/n. just remember, i warned you," he tells you, unbuckling his belt and discardes his pants and boxers.

you have seen a dick before, obviously since you've watched porn before but you've never seen such a pretty dick as heeseung's and it easily makes you hard again. heeseung sits back down and you come closer. you are nervous and hesitant as your hand wraps around heeseung's dick and heeseung notices. to ease you a bit, his thumb finds your chin and tilts it upwards which makes you look up at him. heeseung sends you a reassuring smile and pecks your lips. "you can do this, y/n, hyung will help you."

"let's start of with a handjob, yeah?" you nod at heeseung's words. one of his hands is placed above yours and he guides your hand up and down his shaft, heeseung groans occasionally. "right, now, speed up." he commands as his hand leaves yours. you do as he tells you and you speed up, stroking him fast heeseung begins to breathe unevenly. you watch his hands grip the couch. you take it to the next step unexpectedly and start sucking him. "oh!" he gasps, his hands finding your hair immediately and tugging it which makey you whimper, the vibration travles through his dick and he groans.

"fuck, y/n, a warning next time will be-fuck, much appreciated you know," heeseung says breathlessly. "swirl your tongue, y/n, suck it like you'd suck a lollipop basically." he tries explaining to you but he's too lost in the pleasure, it surprises him that you are doing much better than he'd expected for you to do. "fuck, just like that," heeseung mumbles. you bop your head up and down, heeseung loving how his dick feels so warm inside of your mouth. "you are doing great, y/n, keep going," he pants.

you oblige and attempt taking him in deeper and that action is rewarded with a low maon from heeseung, music to your ears as you emit a low moan yourself. "fuck you are such a good boy taking my dick like that." heeseung praises you. at this point you are really hard. you allow your tongue to drag from the bottom of his shaft all the way up to his tip. you take him in your mouth again and start bopping your head. heeseung resists the urge to thrust up into your mouth. he grips your locks tightly and he groans. "i can't do this anymore," he mutters and halts your actions.

you look up at him, confused and worried that you've maybe done something wrong and heeseung sees it. "no, you did not do anything wrong. in fact you were so good that i had to stop you because my desire to fuck you is so strong right now." he reassures you. "so, can i?" he asks. "yes." you answer him firmly to make sure he doesn't question twice. he luckily can tell that you want this so without any hesitation he picks you up and throws you on your mattress. heeseung strips further and you sit up to take off your shirt.

heeseung hovers over you and catches your lips in a heated makeout. your hands finds his hair easily and you allow your fingers to tangle in his dark locks. he asks for entry and you happily oblige, heeseung exploring every inch of your mouth and you moan into the kiss when he bites your bottom lip. he breaks the kiss. "you know, for someone who's inexperienced, i'd think twice. you are such a fucking good kisser, y/n." the way he says your name has your dick aching at thid point. he helps you take off your pants and boxers. he stares and it makes you shy so you close your legs, only to be stopped by heeseungs hands. he spreads your legs again.

"don't be shy, your body is so attractive. let me admire it a bit more." his words has you blushing. heeseung's tongue finds your rim and you whimper when he starts to eat you out. he places his hands on your thighs. after licking your hole a few times, his fingers finds their way in and it, as expected, feels weird and uncomfortable. "don't worry, the uncomfortable feeling will go away soon." heeseung comes up to kiss you to distract you. "you are doing so well, baby." he adds another finger and as heeseung said, the uncomfortable feeling goes away and you start to moan. heeseung picks up his pace. after you are fully prepped and streched out, heeseung teases you by letting his dick rest by your entrance.

you whine. "please fuck me already, hyung." and that's what all heeseung needs. he enteres you and your hands grips his shoulders tightly. once fully inside he waits for your signal. "okay, you can move." you tell him. with a nod heeseung starts to thrust. he grunts as he watches his dick go in and out of you. you moan lowly. "f-faster," you whimper. heeseung goes faster and groans, loving the way you clench around him. "fuck." he curses under his breath. your hands travels to his hair and you pull heeseung in for a kiss.

heeseung happily kisses you back, he nips at your bottom lip and breaks the kiss, going to your jaw and then neck. he then kisses your collarbones. "damnit you are so hot, y/n." you arch your back and moan, signalling that he's found your prostate. heeseung knows and keeps hitting that spot over and over. "fuck!" you choke out, your grip on his locks tightening. "your gonna cum? cum for me, love, cum." you squirm beneath him as a strange feeling builds up withing your stomach and you begin to pant. heeseung grips your dick that's leaking with precum and you gasp in surprise.

heeseung strokes you quickly and you cum with moaning his name. "where can i cum?" he asks you breathlessly. "i-inside of m-me. cum inside of me." and with that, heeseung cums inside of you. the both of you pant as you relax, catching your breath. "that was amazing for my first time," you tell heeseung honestly. heeseung smiles and pecks your forehead. "i'm glad you enjoyed it." he replies.

[malereaderpage]

hypnotised | sim jaeyun

▶ jake x bottom male reader

▶ smut, cursing

jake groans as you continue to ride him. the both of you woke up a few minutes ago with boners and you decided it was a great idea to get on his lap and start riding him. both of you are wearing shorts but are shirtless. you lean in and kiss him. jake's hands leaves your waist and goes around your neck, making the kiss deeper.

you sigh into the kiss and the kiss escalates as you pick up your pace. jake grunts into the kiss and you moan lowly. jake breaks the kiss and halts your actions. "these pants are getting really annoying, don't you think?" you only nod in agreement and jake discards both of your pants and boxers. he hovers above you and enters you carefully. "you can move and be rough, please." jake smirks at you and obliges to your wish. he roughly pounds into you, your nails digging into his shoulders as you arch your back. you become a moaning mess and it only drives jake completely crazy.

"god, keep moaning like that," jake tells you and you can only moan again in response. your nails digs into his back as you gasp, jake finding your prostate. "right there?" he teases, smirking. "uh huh, right there-" you choke out and your hands roam, finding his hair and tangles your fingers in his locks, tugging as jake starts to thrust slow but with great force, your skin slap against one another so loudly due to his powerful thrusts. "ah! fuck!" you moan and tug onto jake's locks hard which makes jake groan. "you like that? huh, pretty boy?" he inquires.

you hum. "yes, i like it," you pant. jake leans in to connect your lips. jake stops thrusting for a second as the kiss the two of you share is a slow, gentle, passionate kiss. jake then breaks the kiss and flips you, you on all fours now. he starts thrusting again, gripping your ass tightly as you moan into the pillow. jake's hand travels from your lower back to your nape and lightly squeezes before tugging at your hair, making your head jolt up. "don't silence those sexy moans, y/n."

obeying, you nod in response. jake's hand returns to your ass as he continues to mercilessly pound into you and gives your ass a smack which makes you moan. he massages your ass and smacks it again and you moan again much to jake's delight. your dick leaks of precum and you can feel you are close so you announce it to jake. "i'm c-close." jake grunts, he too is close. "then cum for me baby," he says breathlessly. "ah!" you arch your back and cum. jake reaches his high and cums inside of you with the slip of your name escaping his mouth.