Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x f!Reader
When you and Soonyoung have a long complicated history of hooking up and being all over each other, he ends up deciding to pull the “let’s just be friends” card. Though you try to get over him, see new people, it just isn’t the same. They aren’t Soonyoung. What doesn’t help is that he gets jealous every single time you show interest in anyone but him. A long period of time full of misunderstanding leads to complicated feelings between the both of you.
Word Count: 12.3k
Pairing: Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi) x f!Reader
Genre: it’s always been you, yearning hoshi, YEAAARRRNING HOSHI, jealousy, right person wrong time, right person right time, misunderstanding, happy ending :D, hoshi wants you sooooo bad its actually ridiculous, roommate seokmin :P
Warnings/Things to make note of!: a little bit of angst at the end, mentions of hooking up/sex no smut!!!! Heavy making out :P i thinkkk thats it?
A/N: hiiiiii! I had so much fun writing the last vernon one and i love the idea of that “it’s always been you” type of writing so i needed to write one about lover boy yearning boy hoshi! I really hope you love this, i really love how it turned out and please enjoy :D
—------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The number hangs awkwardly in the air.
Seokmin stares at you for a moment before shaking his head. “I’m sorry, let me get this straight. You hooked up with Soonyoung fifteen times last year?”
Heat immediately rushes to your face. You focus on your hands instead, picking at the skin beside your fingernail as if it might somehow save you from this conversation.
“Fifteen times,” he repeats, sounding more horrified than impressed.
You groan. “Can you stop saying it like that?”
“How else am I supposed to say it?” Seokmin asks. “You told me you and Soonyoung were just friends.”
“Friends don't sleep together fifteen separate times.”
“It wasn't that serious.”
“That's somehow making it worse.”
You finally look up and find him staring at you like you've just confessed to committing tax fraud.
“It happened over the course of a year,” you argue weakly.
“That doesn't help your case.”
You sink further into the couch cushions.
Seokmin studies your expression before narrowing his eyes. “Was the sex even that good?”
You shrug. “It was fine, I guess.”
The lie leaves your mouth effortlessly.
Unfortunately, Seokmin knows you too well.
You look away. Because the truth was that it had been great. Every single time.
Soonyoung had a way of making everything feel easy. What started as a one-time mistake somehow became late-night texts, movie nights that ended with you staying over, and mornings spent lingering in bed longer than either of you should have.
You'd told yourself it was casual. Convenient. Nothing more.
But casual wasn't supposed to leave you thinking about someone long after they walked out of a room. Casual wasn't supposed to make your stomach flip whenever their name appeared on your phone. And casual definitely wasn't supposed to hurt.
Eventually, there had been a conversation. One you'd seen coming and still weren't prepared for.
You remembered sitting across from Soonyoung at his kitchen table while he rubbed the back of his neck nervously.
“Maybe we should just be friends,” he'd said.
Just friends. Such a simple phrase for something that felt strangely devastating. You remembered forcing a smile and agreeing immediately, pretending it didn't bother you.
“Yeah,” you'd replied. “Friends sounds good.”
And that had been the end of it.
Your mind, however, had never fully accepted the arrangement.
You still remembered how his hand felt in yours. You still caught yourself comparing everyone else to him. You still found yourself wondering, on your weakest days, whether he ever thought about those nights the same way you did.
“Wait,” Seokmin suddenly says.
His eyes widen as realization dawns on him.
Your stomach immediately drops.
You let out a short laugh. “Don't be ridiculous.”
“You still like Soonyoung.”
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The first time you slept with Soonyoung was definitely not the way you expected your night to go.
“Come out with us, please,” Seokmin begged from where he was sprawled across your couch. “You've been working all week.”
Joshua sat beside him, laughing at the dramatic expression on Seokmin's face. “I don't think I've ever seen someone this desperate.”
You glanced down at your laptop. Multiple tabs were open, unfinished work staring back at you accusingly. You had planned on spending the entire night catching up on everything you'd fallen behind on, and going out was the last thing on your mind.
“I have work to do,” you argued weakly.
“You'll still have work to do tomorrow,” Joshua replied.
“That's not helping your argument.”
Seokmin sat up immediately. “Come on. It's just a small get-together at Seungkwan's place. A few people from college are going to be there. We'll stay for a couple hours and bring you home.”
The fact that he had already planned out your transportation home told you he wasn't going to let this go.
With a long sigh, you closed your laptop.
Seokmin practically cheered.
An hour later, the three of you arrived at Seungkwan's house. Music drifted through the rooms while groups of old friends occupied every available couch, kitchen stool, and corner. It wasn't a huge party—just enough people to fill the house comfortably.
You immediately recognized several faces from college and exchanged hugs and quick conversations as you made your way inside. It felt strange seeing everyone again after so long. Familiar, but distant at the same time.
The second you stepped into the living room, however, Seokmin grabbed Joshua's arm.
“For drinks?” Joshua asked.
Before you could protest, they disappeared into the crowd.
“Wow,” you muttered. “Abandoned immediately.”
The familiar voice made you turn.
Soonyoung stood beside you holding a drink, a lazy smile already on his face.
You recognized him instantly.
You and Soonyoung had shared the same major in college and ended up in several classes together over the years. You'd worked on projects together once or twice, exchanged notes before exams, and occasionally chatted before lectures started. Beyond that, you weren't particularly close.
Still, you'd always noticed him.
Even now, years later, he was still annoyingly attractive.
The conversation started easily after that. Easier than you expected, actually. You learned he'd already had a couple drinks, just enough to loosen him up. He also now lives with Seungkwan which wasn’t shocking since they were roommates from the start of college to the end. Within minutes the two of you were talking as though you'd known each other far better than you ever had in college.
At one point you found yourself looking in the kitchen trying to spot Seokmin and Joshua. You locked eyes with Joshua who gave you a light smile and immediately started looking back at Seokmin who was downing probably his third shot of the night.
Soonyoung laughed. “You want one?”
A few minutes later, the two of you were taking shots together at the kitchen island.
By the time you found yourselves sitting together on the back patio, your cheeks felt warm and everything seemed significantly funnier than usual.
“Honestly,” Soonyoung said, shaking his head, “I feel like we should've been friends in college.”
“We literally had, like, four classes together.”
“Five?” You stared at him.
The conversation flowed effortlessly. Stories from college turned into stories about work, mutual friends, and embarrassing memories neither of you had thought about in years. The longer you talked, the more natural it felt. Somewhere along the way, it stopped feeling like reconnecting with an old classmate and started feeling like catching up with an old friend.
Which was probably why the alcohol loosened your tongue enough for you to make a terrible decision.
“You know,” you said, pointing at him with your drink, “I always thought you were cute in college.”
The moment the words left your mouth, you froze.
You immediately covered your face.
“Did I say that out loud?”
His laugh was instant. “You did.”
Unfortunately, his grin only widened.
“You thought I was cute?”
“This conversation is over.”
“No, I like this conversation.”
The look on his face was making everything worse.
For a moment, he simply stared at you before his smile softened.
“For what it's worth,” he said, leaning back in his chair, “I thought you were really beautiful in college.”
The way he said it sent warmth rushing through your entire body. It wasn't casual. It wasn't friendly. It was undeniably flirtatious and you felt suddenly very aware of how close he was sitting.
“Soonyoung,” you laughed nervously.
“You are laying it on very thick right now.”
“I can't help it. You're beautiful.”
You immediately pointed at him.
“See? That's exactly what I'm talking about.”
The kind that made your heart beat faster.
You shook your head, laughing as you looked away.
“Oh my God,” you muttered sarcastically. “Just kiss me already.” You joked, though you knew you meant it.
Soonyoung's eyebrows lifted. Silence settled between you for a split second. Then he smiled.
To your complete surprise, he leaned forward, one hand brushing lightly against your arm before he closed the distance between you.
And it was far from perfect.
There was the unmistakable influence of vodka lingering between the two of you, making it a little clumsy and a little rushed. But neither of you seemed to care.
What made it memorable wasn't the technique. It was the feeling behind it.
It felt like months—maybe years—of missed opportunities crashing together at once. Every passing glance in college. Every conversation that never happened. Every moment you'd thought he was cute and immediately talked yourself out of doing anything about it.
Now he was standing right in front of you, kissing you like he'd been waiting for an excuse.
When you finally pulled apart, both of you were laughing.
"Wow," you said breathlessly.
Neither of you moved very far away.
You glanced through the patio door toward the crowded house. Suddenly remembering reality, you pulled out your phone.
"What are you doing?" Soonyoung asked.
"Preventing Seokmin from interrogating me."
You quickly opened your messages.
You: Found Jun! Haven't seen him in forever. We're gonna catch up tonight, so I'm probably sleeping over at his place.
The typing bubble appeared almost instantly.
Seokmin: Since when are you and Jun close?
You: Since literally college.
You shoved your phone back into your pocket before he could ask any more questions.
The grin on Soonyoung's face told you he'd already figured out exactly what you'd done.
"You could've just told him the truth."
The two of you exchanged a look before immediately dissolving into laughter.
A few moments later, Soonyoung held out his hand.
The second your fingers intertwined, a nervous excitement settled into your chest.
Together, you slipped back inside. The house felt louder than before. Music echoed through the rooms while conversations overlapped from every direction. Somehow, despite the crowd, it felt like you and Soonyoung existed in your own little bubble.
You followed him through clusters of old friends and familiar faces, trying—and failing—not to smile. At the staircase, he glanced back at you. Still holding your hand. Still smiling. The sight made your stomach flip.
The upper floor was significantly quieter. Most of the guests had stayed downstairs, leaving the hallway dimly lit and peaceful compared to the chaos below.
You barely made it to the top of the stairs before he stopped.
"What?" you asked. You laughed nervously. "Why are you looking at me like that?"
"Because this is kind of insane."
You groaned. "Oh, here we go."
"No, think about it." He shook his head dramatically. "I spend years thinking you're ridiculously pretty, then somehow tonight you're sitting next to me telling me you thought I was cute too?"
"This conversation is embarrassing."
"It's my favorite conversation I've had all year."
You rolled your eyes, trying—and failing—not to smile.
Before you could even finish rolling your eyes, Soonyoung had your back pressed against the wall moving his hands up and down your sides, kissing your neck.
You let out a slight chuckle. "Can we please just go to your room before someone comes upstairs and witnesses whatever this is?"
"So eager." He says in a low tone, hot breath against your neck.
You laughed and lightly shoved his shoulder.
He looked entirely too pleased with himself.
And with one last teasing smile, he led you farther down the hallway as the noise of the party faded into the background. Before you knew it, you were underneath Soonyoung on his navy bedsheets and waking up, both fully undressed to bright sunlight peeking through his windows.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
After that night, the two of you fell into a rhythm neither of you ever bothered to define.
You told Seokmin that you had reconnected with Soonyoung, but you conveniently left out the part where nearly every visit to his apartment ended the same way. At first, it was just hookups—late nights tangled in navy bedsheets and mornings spent pretending neither of you had plans for the day.
But somewhere along the way, things became more complicated.
The hookups turned into coffee runs and movie nights. Not every hookup ended with a date, but every date somehow ended with the two of you back in his bed. It was almost impossible to keep your hands off each other.
Being close to him became second nature.
You'd curl against his chest while some random movie played in the background, his fingers absentmindedly combing through your hair as he asked question after question about your life. He wanted to know everything—your favorite childhood memory, your dream vacation, the songs you played on repeat when you couldn't sleep.
And every time he discovered something you had in common, his entire face would light up. Sometimes his excitement would get the better of him. The moment he realized there was another piece of you that matched with him, he'd pull you closer, kissing you with a kind of enthusiasm that made it seem impossible for him to go more than a few minutes without touching you.
The good morning texts. The lazy afternoons spent doing absolutely nothing. The way he'd instinctively reach for your hand when the two of you walked somewhere. The way he'd save space for you on the couch without even thinking about it.
Neither of you talked about what it meant.
You didn't ask. And he never explained.
So the days kept passing, and the line between whatever this was and whatever it wasn't became blurrier and blurrier until eventually it stopped feeling like a line at all.
It simply became the way you and Soonyoung worked.
Until one morning, it didn't.
You had stayed over the night before. Sunlight poured through the kitchen windows while the two of you sat across from each other at his small table, eating cereal straight from oversized bowls. Soonyoung was making some ridiculous joke about one of the movies you'd watched the night before, and you nearly choked on your milk laughing.
Everything felt normal. Comfortable. Safe.
Then he set his spoon down. You noticed the shift immediately.
"What?" you asked, still smiling.
His eyes dropped to his bowl before lifting back to yours.
"I've been thinking about something."
Something in your stomach tightened.
He scratched the back of his neck.
"I think..." He hesitated. "I think maybe we should just be friends."
The words hit you so hard you almost forgot how to breathe. For a second, all you could hear was the blood rushing in your ears.
As if the last few months had been simple enough to fit into a single word. As if he hadn't spent countless nights wrapped around you. As if he hadn't memorized every little detail about your life. As if he hadn't looked at you like you were the most fascinating person he'd ever met.
Your chest ached. But you forced your face to stay neutral. Forced your hands not to shake around your spoon. Forced yourself to swallow the lump forming in your throat.
So instead, you shrugged.
Soonyoung watched you carefully as you managed a small smile.
"I thought that's what we always were."
The second the words left your mouth, they felt like glass. They scraped against your throat on the way out.
And the worst part was that you wished they were true.
For a moment, Soonyoung just stared at you.
His expression flickered with something that looked almost like shock, like that wasn't the answer he'd expected.
You looked down at your cereal before he could see the hurt threatening to surface.
"Friends," you repeated lightly. "Yeah. That's fine."
The silence that followed felt heavier than anything that had ever passed between the two of you.
And for the first time since reconnecting with him, Soonyoung looked completely unsure of himself.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The month after that conversation shifted in a way neither of you acknowledged out loud. At first, it was subtle—missed texts here and there, plans that used to fall into place easily now taking more effort, more hesitation. You still saw Soonyoung, but not like before. Not the effortless rhythm you’d slipped into without thinking, the kind that made his apartment feel like an extension of your own life.
Coffee runs became occasional. Lunches happened sometimes, squeezed between schedules instead of stretching into long afternoons that ended with you back in his bed. And there were no more nights that blurred into mornings. No more waking up tangled in navy sheets like it was the most natural thing in the world. Just distance. Not cold, not angry—just carefully unspoken.
And somehow, that made it worse. Every time you sat across from him, you wondered if he missed it too—not just you, but that version of you two. The one that didn’t have labels or boundaries or clarity. You wondered if he was seeing someone, if he had already moved on in a way you were quietly afraid of, and you hated that you were still wondering at all.
You told yourself you were fine. Friends was fine. Friends was what he wanted, what you agreed to, so you acted like it was enough. Even when it wasn’t. Even when it felt like you were slowly adjusting to a version of him that had been stripped of everything that used to make your chest tighten in a different way.
Still, something settled eventually. A new normal formed—quiet, steady, uncomplicated on the surface. Just friends. And you kept telling yourself you were okay with it, even if deep down it felt like something inside you was wearing down piece by piece.
Then it hit you one night, quietly and without drama, that he wasn’t going to change his mind. Not later, not suddenly, not after realizing he missed you the way you missed him. You were tired of waiting for a moment that probably didn’t exist.
A few nights later, you went out with Soonyoung and Seokmin. The bar was loud and warm, full of overlapping conversations and dim lighting. You sat between them at first, listening more than talking, until you noticed a familiar face from college approaching. Minghao looked at you with easy recognition, like no time had passed, and greeted you casually before drifting into conversation with Seokmin.
A moment later, Seokmin came back to the table without him. “He wanted to ask about you,” he said offhandedly.
You frowned slightly. “Ask what?”
Seokmin hesitated. “If you were single.”
Your stomach dipped before you could stop it. “And?”
“I told him yeah… but he said he wanted to ask you out.”
The air around the table changed. You felt it before you even looked at Soonyoung. When you did, he was staring into his drink, jaw tight, completely still in a way that didn’t match the situation. Not relaxed, not indifferent—just off.
“Oh,” you said lightly, like it meant nothing. But Soonyoung’s grip on his glass tightened. Seokmin suddenly found the table very interesting.
You tilted your head slightly. “Why are you acting weird?”
“I’m not,” Soonyoung said immediately.
“I’m not,” he repeated, too fast to be convincing.
You nodded once, like you accepted that answer, then turned to Seokmin. “Can you give me Minghao’s number?”
Seokmin blinked. “Uh—yeah, sure.”
Soonyoung finally looked at you then, properly, like he hadn’t expected that to come out of your mouth. You didn’t flinch. You just pulled out your phone and, right there in front of him, opened it and started typing.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few days later, Soonyoung was at your place like he’d been so many times before—like nothing had shifted at all. He was stretched out on your bed, one arm behind his head, the other holding his phone as he played some game with quiet focus. The room felt strangely normal again, like it had slipped back into an older version of itself where nothing had ever been complicated.
You stood in front of your mirror, holding up different outfits against your frame, half talking over your shoulder. “Okay, this one’s cute, right? Or is it too much for coffee?”
Soonyoung didn’t look up right away. “It’s coffee. Wear whatever.”
You huffed lightly and changed into another option. “That’s not helpful.”
“It’s not supposed to be,” he said, finally glancing up for half a second before going back to his phone. “It’s just coffee.”
You turned to him, narrowing your eyes a little. “You’re being weird.”
“I’m not,” he said immediately, too quick.
“You are,” you repeated, slipping on another top. “I think this one’s good though.”
“Sure,” he said, voice flat in a way that didn’t match how often he kept looking over at you when he thought you wouldn’t notice.
You ignored it, though something about his tone lingered in the back of your mind. Instead, you smoothed the fabric down and checked yourself in the mirror again, a small smile creeping onto your face. “I’m kind of excited.”
That finally got a reaction. Soonyoung’s fingers paused on his screen for a second. “Yeah?”
“Yeah,” you said, adjusting your sleeves. “He seems nice.”
“Mm,” he replied, going back to his game, though his attention didn’t fully return to it.
You turned slightly, doing a little spin like you were testing the outfit. “I mean, it’s just coffee, but still.”
“Right,” he said again, but it came out a little more clipped this time.
You didn’t notice the way his jaw tightened slightly, or the way his phone screen stayed lit longer than it needed to while he wasn’t really playing anymore.
Instead, you grabbed your bag and nodded decisively at your reflection. “Okay, this is the one.”
Soonyoung barely looked up. “Looks fine.”
You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling as you walked past him. “Wow, supportive.”
He let out a quiet sound that might’ve been a laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his face.
A few seconds later, you were halfway out the bedroom door. “Stay here until I get back later, or mingle with Seokmin. Do whatever. I’m gonna show Seokmin my outfit! ”
“Of course you are,” Soonyoung muttered under his breath, but you were already gone.
You hurried down the hall and found Seokmin in the living room. “Okay, rate this,” you said immediately, spinning once in front of him.
Seokmin looked up from his phone and grinned. “Oh, I love that. That’s perfect for a first coffee date. You look really good.”
Your face lit up a little. “Right? I thought so too.”
“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “Minghao’s so lucky!.”
You laughed, smoothing your hands down the outfit one more time, feeling lighter for a moment—excited, easy, uncomplicated.
Behind you, down the hall, Soonyoung stayed in your room longer than he needed to, his phone still in his hand, screen dimming as he didn’t touch it at all.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The date with Minghao went better than you could’ve expected.
It wasn’t overwhelming or intense in the way first dates sometimes felt. It was easy. Coffee turned into a walk, which turned into more talking than you realized you were capable of doing with someone you’d barely reconnected with. He listened without interrupting, laughed at the right moments, and somehow made you feel like you didn’t have to perform anything at all.
By the time you made your way back home later that night, your cheeks still felt warm from smiling too much.
The house was quiet when you stepped inside, the kind of quiet that meant it was late enough for everything to be winding down. Seokmin was on the couch in the living room, baseball game playing softly on the TV, a blanket half draped over his legs.
He glanced over immediately. “You look like that went really well.”
You tried to hide your smile and failed. “Was it that obvious?”
He snorted. “You’re glowing. So yeah.”
You kicked your shoes off, still grinning. “It was good.”
Seokmin nodded, eyes already drifting back to the game. “I’m heading to bed soon, but I need full details tomorrow.”
“Deal,” you said, laughing softly.
Then you hesitated. “Is Soonyoung still here?”
“Yeah,” Seokmin said. “Think he’s asleep though. He hung out with me then went to your room earlier.”
“Oh,” you murmured, a little quieter now. “Okay.”
Seokmin gave you a small look, like he could sense something in your tone, but didn’t say anything. “Night.”
“Night,” you replied, already moving down the hallway.
Your steps were slow, careful, like you didn’t want to disturb the stillness of the house. When you pushed your bedroom door open, you found him exactly where Seokmin said he’d be.
Soonyoung was sprawled across your bed, fully asleep, one arm tucked under his head, the other resting loosely against the sheets. His breathing was even, face relaxed in a way you didn’t see often when he was awake and trying to keep everything contained.
For a moment, you just stood there.
Then you quietly closed the door behind you and started changing into comfortable clothes, moving as silently as possible. You grabbed a spare blanket and pillow from your closet, intending to just settle on the floor like it was nothing unusual.
You didn’t want to wake him. He looked too peaceful for that.
Within minutes, you were sitting on the floor beside your bed, arranging the blanket and pillow into something halfway comfortable. You glanced up at him once, just briefly.
And that was when it hit you.
Harder than you expected.
The date had been good—really good. You liked Minghao. You liked how simple it felt. How easy it was to talk, to laugh, to just exist without overthinking every moment.
But it reminded you of something you’d been trying not to think about.
How easy things used to be with Soonyoung, too.
Coffee that felt like dates even when you never called them that. Movie nights that ended with you both laughing too much, too close, until it stopped being about the movie at all. Nights that blurred into mornings without any effort, like the world had quietly agreed to leave the two of you alone.
Now you were here instead.
Going out with someone new.
And still ending the night in the same space as Soonyoung—but not in the same way at all.
Your throat tightened before you could stop it.
You looked away quickly, blinking hard, but it didn’t help much. Tears still gathered anyway, quiet and unwelcome, slipping in without asking permission.
You pressed your lips together and turned onto your side on the floor, facing away from the bed.
Eventually, exhaustion pulled at you. You didn’t even notice yourself falling asleep.
A few hours later, you stirred at the faint sound of movement above you.
The room was dim, lit only by streetlight slipping through the curtains. You blinked slowly, disoriented, until you realized someone was leaning over the edge of the bed.
“Hey,” he said quietly, voice rough with sleep. “You wanna get in the bed?”
You barely processed the question. “No,” you mumbled, shifting slightly under the blanket. “It’s fine. You can have it.”
He paused for a second, still half-draped over the mattress, then spoke again more softly. “The bed is big enough for both of us. It’s okay.”
You hesitated, eyes too heavy to argue, thoughts too slow to fully catch up. After a moment, you gave a small, tired nod.
Soonyoung moved back first, making space without another word.
You pushed yourself up slowly and climbed into the bed, careful to keep distance even in your half-asleep state. There was plenty of room between you when you settled in—too much, almost—but you didn’t have the energy to adjust it.
The mattress shifted slightly as he laid back down.
And then the room went quiet again.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning, the house was still half-asleep.
Seokmin didn’t emerge from his room, which meant he had either stayed up too late or had decided the world could function without him for a few more hours. Either way, it left the kitchen quiet in a way you actually appreciated.
You stood at the counter making coffee for you and Soonyoung, the familiar routine feeling almost too normal after the night before. The sound of the machine filled the space while you moved around it on autopilot, still trying not to think too much about how you’d ended up falling asleep next to him in bed and how little distance there had been between you both when you woke up, one of his arms draped over you almost accidentally holding your hand as if it was second nature.
When you turned around, Soonyoung was already there.
Hair messy, eyes still a little heavy with sleep, leaning casually against the doorway like he’d been there longer than you realized. He didn’t say anything at first, just watched you for a second before stepping inside.
“Morning,” you replied easily.
You handed him a mug without thinking. He took it, fingers brushing yours for the briefest second before he leaned against the counter beside you.
“So,” he said after a beat, voice light, too controlled. “How was it?”
You glanced at him, then shrugged with a small smile that you hoped looked effortless. “Good. Really good actually.”
“Yeah?” he asked, like it didn’t matter, like he wasn’t listening a little too closely.
“Yeah,” you said again, stirring your coffee. “He’s easy to talk to. We just walked around for a while after coffee. It was nice.”
Soonyoung hummed softly, nodding once. “Sounds fun.”
You kept your tone light. “It was.”
A pause settled between you, comfortable on the surface but not quite all the way down.
Then he tilted his head slightly. “So he didn’t, like… bore you to death or anything?”
You let out a laugh before you could stop it. “No. Surprisingly not.”
“Wow,” he said dryly. “Impressive.”
You rolled your eyes, still smiling. “Don’t be rude.”
“I’m not being rude,” he said, sipping his coffee. “I’m being honest.”
That made you laugh again, softer this time, shaking your head as you leaned back against the counter. “You’re ridiculous.”
He shrugged, but there was something off in the way he looked at you—something he quickly masked with another sip of coffee.
A moment later, he added casually, “Finally, though. Someone’s taking you out besides me.”
You blinked, then laughed again automatically, assuming it was just one of his usual jokes. “Oh my god.”
But as the sound left you, something tightened in your chest.
And Seokmin said things like that all the time, teasing you about how often you and Soonyoung used to be together, how naturally you fit into each other’s space.
So you laughed. Of course you laughed.
“I know,” you said lightly, shaking your head. “Poor you.”
Soonyoung let out a quiet huff that might’ve been a laugh too, but it didn’t reach his eyes the way it should’ve.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Things with Minghao stayed casual after that—easy in a way that didn’t demand too much from you.
Lunch plans became frequent, usually during breaks in both your schedules. Sometimes coffee turned into longer afternoons where you walked without really deciding where you were going. He was consistent, steady in a way that made things feel uncomplicated. He didn’t push, didn’t rush, didn’t overthink the pauses in conversation the way you sometimes did.
At one point, he even came over to the house.
Seokmin had invited him without much ceremony, like it was the most natural thing in the world. You’d been in the kitchen when he arrived, laughing at something Seokmin said, when Soonyoung walked in a few seconds later and immediately stopped short.
It wasn’t obvious. Not to anyone who didn’t know him.
Soonyoung was awkward around Minghao in a way that didn’t quite match his usual energy. A little quieter, a little slower to respond, like he wasn’t sure where to put himself in conversations that didn’t involve you directly. He still joked, still smiled, but it felt delayed, like he was catching up to the moment instead of existing in it.
Minghao didn’t seem to notice. Or if he did, he didn’t comment on it.
And you… you tried not to think about it too much.
Because the more time you spent with Minghao, the more Soonyoung started to change around you.
It wasn’t immediate. It wasn’t dramatic. It was made of small things that didn’t seem like anything on their own.
You were texting someone when Soonyoung would join you and Seokmin for dinner more often, your phone lighting up beside your plate.
You started dressing a little differently when you knew you were seeing Minghao—putting in slightly more effort without even consciously deciding to.
Plans with Soonyoung got postponed sometimes because you were “busy,” your voice light when you said it, like it didn’t matter.
And you smiled at your phone more than you used to.
It wasn’t intentional. None of it was.
But to Soonyoung, it started to stack.
Things that used to feel like they were his—at least emotionally, in the unspoken way they’d once existed between you—were suddenly being directed somewhere else. And that was when it started.
Not loudly. Not in any way that anyone else would pick up on.
But Soonyoung began noticing everything.
The way your attention shifted the second your phone buzzed. The way you’d pause mid-conversation, eyes softening slightly when you read a message. The way you’d laugh a little differently when talking about Minghao, like there was something lighter in it.
And he hated that he noticed. Because it didn’t feel like jealousy at first. It felt like irritation he couldn’t explain.
Like discomfort sitting somewhere under his ribs that he couldn’t shift no matter how many times he told himself it didn’t matter.
It kept him awake longer than he meant it to.
Lying in bed after you’d text saying you were going to sleep, or after you’d left a room, or after another casual hangout where you’d mentioned Minghao again without realizing how much space he was starting to take up in your life.
Soonyoung would stare at the ceiling and replay things he didn’t want to think about.
Your smile at your phone. Your “I can’t, I have plans.”
The way you seemed… lighter. Happier.
Just not around him in the same way anymore.
And he told himself it was fine. He told himself this was what he wanted.
Just friends. That was what he’d said.
That was what you’d agreed to.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few weeks passed like that—casual, carefully balanced, and never quite as simple as it looked from the outside.
You were still seeing Minghao, but nothing about it had deepened in the way people usually expected. It stayed light on purpose. You liked him—you really did—but you also kept a quiet distance you never fully explained, even to yourself.
Because no matter how easy he was to be around, there was still a part of you that didn’t fully let go.
A part that still belonged, inconveniently, to Soonyoung.
Soonyoung, meanwhile, stayed in your orbit like he always had. Comfortable, familiar, unavoidable. It had slipped back into something that looked almost normal again—him in your room, you on your bed, talking about nothing important while time passed around you instead of between you.
He was sitting at the edge of your bed while you were folded into your chair, scrolling through your phone between conversations. The air was relaxed in the way it always was when you were alone together—soft, unguarded, easy to mistake for something more stable than it actually was.
Then Soonyoung leaned back on his hands and said, completely out of nowhere, “Remember when we used to hook up? Isn’t that so funny?”
Not dramatically, but enough that it was noticeable.
Your eyes flicked up to him immediately. “What?”
He shrugged like it was nothing, like he hadn’t just reached into something you had carefully avoided naming for weeks. “I mean, it’s kind of funny. We were so… whatever that was.”
Your chest tightened, but you forced your expression to stay even. “That’s a weird thing to bring up.”
“Why?” he said, smiling a little. “It’s true.”
You stared at him for a second longer than you meant to, then looked away, trying to recover your tone. “Yeah. Sure. Hilarious.”
Soonyoung watched you for a moment, like he was testing something, then leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’re acting like it was a crime or something.”
“I’m not,” you said quickly.
But your voice was a little too fast. A little too defensive.
He noticed. Of course he did.
Then, like he always did when he got comfortable, he added with a small tilt of his head, “I mean… you weren’t exactly complaining back then.”
It was light. Teasing. Familiar.
But it hit you harder than it should’ve.
Your brain short-circuited for half a second, memories flashing too quickly to ignore—him laughing against your neck, the way he used to look at you when there was no space left between you, the way he used to say your name like it meant something more than it was allowed to.
You blinked, forcing yourself to stay still.
“Oh my god,” you muttered, rolling your eyes like it didn’t land anywhere inside you. “You’re unbelievable.”
Soonyoung grinned slightly, clearly pleased with himself. “What? I’m just saying.”
And then, softer, almost absentmindedly, he added, “You’ve been a lot more serious lately, though.”
That made you look at him again. “Serious?”
He nodded once. “With Minghao.” The name landed differently when he said it.
You straightened slightly, caught off guard. “What about it?”
Soonyoung shrugged. “Nothing. Just… you’re different when you’re talking about him.”
You hesitated, then gave a small, careful laugh. “That’s called liking someone.”
“Yeah,” he said, too quickly. Then, after a beat, he added, lighter again, “Weird.”
You scoffed. “You’re the one who brought up our past hookups out of nowhere.”
That earned another grin from him, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes this time. “Fair.”
He leaned back again, stretching out on your bed like he belonged there without thinking about it. “Still,” he said casually, “kind of funny how that was a whole thing.”
You didn’t answer immediately, because your thoughts had already started to scatter.
The ease in his voice. The way he was looking at you. The way he could say things like that without hesitation.
It made your brain do something dangerous—something that almost felt like hope before you forced it back down.
So you just smiled faintly. “Yeah. Funny.”
But Soonyoung was watching you more closely now.
Not in a teasing way. In a quieter, more observant one.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Over the next couple of weeks, you still saw Minghao. On paper, it was exactly what you were supposed to want. But nothing about it fully settled the way it should have.
Every time you were with him, there was a quiet sense of misalignment you couldn’t quite explain. Not discomfort, not boredom—just a subtle wrongness that sat underneath everything else like a low hum.
You noticed it in small moments you immediately regretted noticing at all. The way you compared how easy it was for Minghao to keep a conversation steady to how effortlessly Soonyoung used to derail one just by laughing too hard at something stupid you said. The way Minghao would politely wait for you to finish speaking, and your mind would, unfairly, flash to the way Soonyoung used to interrupt you just to argue for fun, like your words were something he couldn’t help but react to.
You hated that you did it.
Hated it even more that it was automatic.
Because Minghao didn’t deserve to be measured against someone who still lived in the background of your thoughts like a reflex you couldn’t break.
He was good. Genuinely good.
You were sitting across from someone who was offering you something steady and real, while your mind kept drifting back to something unresolved, unfinished, and impossible to fully replace.
You’d laugh with Minghao, enjoy the moment, even mean it when you said you had fun—but afterward, when you were alone again, the feeling never fully stayed. It slipped through your fingers like something you hadn’t managed to hold properly.
And you started to notice a pattern you didn’t like.
You were never fully present.
A part of you was always elsewhere.
And the worst part was that Minghao was starting to feel it too, even if he didn’t say it outright. There were pauses where he studied you a little more carefully, moments where his smiles softened like he was trying to figure out what version of you he was actually getting.
You didn’t blame him. You wouldn’t have wanted this version of you either. Because deep down, you knew what the problem was.
You weren’t confused. You weren’t torn between two people in any real sense. There was only one person who still occupied the space you couldn’t seem to clear. And every time you tried to step forward with someone new, it felt less like moving on… and more like stepping around something you were still standing too close to.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You started trying to do things differently after that.
Not by forcing yourself to feel something that wasn’t there, but by actively refusing to let your thoughts drift backward every time you were with Minghao.
It took effort at first—more than you wanted to admit. Your mind still tried to pull you toward familiar patterns, old comparisons, old habits of thought that circled back to Soonyoung without permission. But each time it happened, you gently redirected yourself.
Focus here. Not there. And slowly, things started to shift.
You were more present now. You laughed more freely, responded without hesitation, let conversations stretch without overanalyzing every pause. The tension you hadn’t even realized you were carrying began to ease, and with it, the time you spent together felt smoother, lighter, more natural.
It didn’t feel forced anymore. It felt like something that could actually grow.
One evening, Soonyoung was over while you were getting ready for a date.
He had arrived earlier, like he often did, letting himself settle into your space without ceremony. He was on your bed again, scrolling on his phone, occasionally commenting on something Seokmin had said from the other room, acting like the world was normal and unchanged.
You were in the hallway putting the finishing touches on your outfit when the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” you called automatically.
Soonyoung didn’t think much of it at first. He barely looked up.
Until he did. Until he heard your voice brighten slightly at the door. And until he saw Minghao standing there.
Minghao was smiling at you like he was happy to see you, and you were smiling back in a way that felt different now—less uncertain, more open. More sure.
Soonyoung stayed where he was, but his attention locked in without him meaning to.
Then Minghao did something simple.
He reached out and gently brushed a strand of hair from your face before leaning down and pressing a small kiss to your forehead.
Soft. Casual. Sweet in the most effortless way possible.
Like it meant nothing to anyone except maybe you.
“Hey,” Minghao said quietly. “Ready?”
You nodded, smiling. “Yeah. Give me a second.”
You stepped back inside briefly to grab your bag, talking lightly as you moved around the room.
Soonyoung didn’t say anything. He didn’t even realize how still he had gone until after the door closed behind you both.
The apartment was suddenly too quiet. Seokmin called something from the other room, but Soonyoung didn’t respond. Because all he could think about was how easy it had looked. How natural it had felt. How Minghao had touched you like it was allowed. Like it was deserved. And that was the part that stuck. Not jealousy in the obvious sense. Not anger. Something quieter. Heavier.
Because for the first time, it fully clicked into place in a way he couldn’t ignore anymore.
Someone else was treating you like you were something precious. Something worth being gentle with.
And Soonyoung—still sitting there, still in the space you had once shared in every possible way without ever naming it—realized with uncomfortable clarity that he didn’t just notice it.
He wanted to be the one who got to look at you like that.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Weeks passed in a way that felt quieter on the surface, but not necessarily easier underneath.
You and Minghao still weren’t official, but what you had settled into was steady in its own way—casual, exclusive, unspoken in the places that mattered most. There was no rush to define it, no pressure hanging over either of you, just a consistent presence that made your weeks feel anchored in something stable.
And for the first time in a while, you stopped bracing yourself every time your phone lit up with his name.
It wasn’t perfect. But it was real enough to keep going.
Soonyoung noticed the shift in a different way.
He didn’t come over as often anymore before your dates. At first it was subtle—an excuse here, a delay there—but eventually it became consistent. If Minghao was picking you up, Soonyoung wasn’t around. If you were coming home late, he was already gone.
It wasn’t something anyone addressed directly. But it changed the rhythm anyway.
What didn’t change was that he still ended up hearing about things.
Because you still told him.
You didn’t do it to hurt him. You didn’t even fully think about it most of the time. It just… came up. Like talking about your day, like mentioning plans with Seokmin, like anything else that existed in your life.
One evening, you were sitting on your bed while Soonyoung scrolled through his phone at your desk chair, legs spread casually like he belonged there without question.
“I think we’re kind of past the ‘just coffee’ stage,” you said lightly, glancing at your screen. “It’s still not official, but it’s consistent.”
“Mm,” Soonyoung hummed, not looking up. “Exclusive-ish.”
“Yeah,” you said. “Basically.”
Then you added, almost absentmindedly, “We hooked up last week.”
Soonyoung didn’t move at first.
Then his thumb stopped mid-scroll.
“Oh,” he said after a second, voice carefully neutral.
You didn’t notice the way his jaw tightened slightly, or the way he shifted in his seat like he was trying to adjust something uncomfortable that wasn’t physical.
You just kept talking. “It wasn’t weird or anything. Just… happened.”
“Right,” he said again, a little quieter this time.
For a second, neither of you said anything.
Then Soonyoung leaned back slightly in the chair, finally looking at you. “So that’s where we’re at now?”
You frowned a little. “What do you mean?”
He shrugged, forcing something casual into his tone. “Just keeping track of your romantic timeline. Seems like I’m falling behind.”
It was a joke. Light. Familiar.
But something about the way he said it made your brain catch slightly, like it always did when he turned something into teasing.
You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”
A small pause followed, then he added, like it was nothing, “So… what, is he good at it or should I be concerned for his reputation?”
That got a laugh out of you before you could stop it. “Oh my god, Soonyoung.”
“What?” he said, grinning now, leaning forward a little. “I’m just asking for research purposes.”
You shook your head, still smiling. “You don’t need to worry about it.”
“Didn’t say I was worried,” he replied quickly.
You raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re literally interrogating me.”
“I’m not interrogating you,” he said, too fast again.
You paused for a second, then shrugged. “He’s fine… yes”
That should’ve been the end of it. But something about the word hung in the air for a moment longer than expected.
Soonyoung’s expression shifted slightly—not obvious, but enough that you noticed if you were looking.
“Fine,” he repeated quietly.
And then, like it was just another casual follow-up in a conversation that wasn’t doing anything to either of you, he asked, “Better than me?”
You blinked. Then laughed, a little caught off guard. “What kind of question is that?”
“I’m curious,” he said, leaning back again like he hadn’t just said something that subtly changed the temperature of the room. “Important data point.”
You shook your head, still smiling, still brushing it off like it meant nothing. “I’m not answering that.”
“Coward,” he said lightly.
You reached for your pillow and threw it at him.
He caught it easily, laughing under his breath.
The conversation moved on after that. It always did.
But later, when the room was quiet again, Soonyoung couldn’t stop thinking about the way you had said it so easily. Like it didn’t matter. Like he wasn’t even part of the comparison anymore. And that was the part that made his stomach twist. Not because he didn’t know what was happening between you and Minghao.
But because he did. And hearing it out loud—casual, unbothered, real—made it impossible to pretend it wasn’t something that had already fully moved forward without him.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Though weeks went by, it felt like it had been months. You and Minghao didn’t fall apart in a dramatic way. There was no argument, no big misunderstanding. It just… didn’t go anywhere. And eventually, you were the one who said it out loud first.
It was mutual in the end. Gentle, respectful, uncomplicated. He agreed easily, maybe even relieved in the same way you were. It didn’t hurt the way you feared it might. It lingered for a day, maybe two, then settled into something you could carry without thinking about it too much.
And then you didn’t tell anyone.
Not Seokmin. Not Soonyoung.
There didn’t seem to be a reason to. So in their minds, you were still seeing him.
That’s how you ended up on the living room floor one night with Soonyoung, a half-finished card game spread between you.
It felt almost normal again in the way things sometimes did when enough time passed without anyone naming the shifts.
You were laughing as Soonyoung dramatically lost another round.
“This game is rigged,” he complained, leaning back on his hands.
“You’re just bad at it,” you said, shuffling the cards again.
He scoffed. “I’m strategically challenged.”
“You cheated twice,” you pointed out.
“I was adapting,” he corrected immediately.
You rolled your eyes, smiling as you dealt the next hand. “Sure.”
There was a comfortable pause, the kind that used to feel effortless between you.
Then Soonyoung tilted his head slightly, watching you with that familiar glint in his eyes. “So how’s your boyfriend?”
Your fingers paused mid-deal.
It was subtle. Just a fraction of a second.
Then you recovered, letting out a small laugh. “He’s not my boyfriend.”
“So you’re still in the ‘exclusive mysterious situationship phase,’” he said, like he was summarizing something extremely complicated for his own entertainment.
“Something like that,” you replied lightly.
He hummed, leaning forward again, resting his forearms on his knees. “Must be nice.”
You glanced up. “Must be nice what?”
He shrugged. “Having someone take you out all the time. Texting you. Kissing you on the forehead like some kind of—” he gestured vaguely, “—romantic main character.”
You snorted. “You’re being weird again.”
“I’m not,” he said, but there was something looser in his voice now. Less teasing, more… searching.
You raised an eyebrow. “You kind of are.”
Soonyoung leaned back again, eyes still on you. “Are you happy with him?”
The question landed differently.
Not playful this time. Not joking. Your hands stilled completely.
You looked at him properly now. “Why do you care?”
A beat of silence stretched between you.
Soonyoung opened his mouth, then closed it again like he was recalibrating something inside his head. For once, there was no quick deflection. No joke ready on standby.
Just him. Looking at you like he had been holding something in for too long.
“I shouldn’t,” he said finally, voice quieter.
Your brow furrowed slightly. “That’s not an answer.”
He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I know.”
Then, like something inside him finally gave up trying to stay vague, he said, “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”
You blinked. Once. Twice. “…What?”
Soonyoung let out a short, humorless breath, like he was annoyed at himself now more than anything. “This is going to sound stupid.”
“Then don’t say it,” you replied immediately, still trying to process.
He shook his head. “No. I need to.”
He looked at you again, fully now. No jokes left in his expression.
“You knowI have feelings for you, right?” he said simply.
You stared at him, searching his face like there had to be some angle you were missing. “Soonyoung…”
“I know,” he said quickly, like he was bracing for impact. “I know I messed it up. I know I shouldn’t have said we were just friends. I know I pushed you away when I didn’t want to.”
Your chest tightened, confusion rising before anything else could settle.
“What are you talking about?” you asked, voice sharper now. “You were the one who said that.”
“I know,” he repeated, softer this time. “And I regret it. Every part of it.”
Your expression hardened, something defensive snapping into place. “So what, you’re just saying this now because I’m seeing someone else?”
His eyes flickered at that.
Then, quieter, almost painfully honest, “No.”
“I’m saying it because I thought I could handle you being with someone else,” he admitted. “And I can’t.”
Your breath caught slightly, but you didn’t let it show fully.
“You don’t get to do that,” you said, standing up now. “You don’t get to push me away, watch me try to move on, and then decide you’re not okay with it later.”
“I know,” he said again, and there was something breaking in his voice now, something he wasn’t trying to hide anymore.
But he stood up too, stepping closer without fully realizing it. Like distance had stopped mattering in the moment.
“I tried,” he said. “I tried so hard to be okay with it. With you being with him. With you not looking at me like that anymore.”
You shook your head. “So what am I supposed to do with that?”
His voice dropped. “I’m not asking you to fix it.”
But his eyes said something else entirely. Something quieter. Needier. Like he was standing too close to something he had already lost and only just realized it.
“I just needed you to know,” he said.
And for the first time, there was no joke left in him at all.
For a second after he finished speaking, everything just hung there—still, suspended, like the room itself didn’t know what to do with what had just been said.
Soonyoung was looking at you like he was waiting for impact. Like he knew he deserved it. And maybe that was what finally broke something open in you.
Because you had been holding it together in a way that wasn’t really holding together at all—just stacking quiet moments on top of quieter ones, pretending that if you didn’t look directly at it, it wouldn’t keep hurting.
But now he was standing in front of you saying your name like it meant something again.
Like it had always meant something.
And your chest just… collapsed.
“Stop,” you said, but your voice cracked halfway through.
“No,” you shook your head, breath catching hard now. “You don’t get to say that to me now.”
Your hands trembled slightly at your sides, and you hated that he could probably see it.
“You don’t get to just—” you let out a broken laugh that wasn’t really a laugh at all, “—show up and say you have feelings for me like I haven’t been—like I haven’t been losing my mind over you for months.”
His expression shifted instantly. “What?”
Your eyes stung before you could stop it, and suddenly you weren’t even trying to hold it in anymore.
“I ended things with Minghao,” you said, voice shaking now, “because I couldn’t get you out of my head.”
Soonyoung went still. Completely still.
You wiped at your face quickly, frustrated with yourself more than anything. “I tried. I really tried to be normal about it. I went on dates, I laughed, I acted like I was fine, like I was moving on like a normal person—”
“But I wasn’t,” you said, sharper now, tears slipping despite you trying to stop them. “I’d be sitting there with him and I’d just—think of you. Or I’d be with him and I’d get a text from you and it would ruin everything because suddenly I wasn’t even there anymore, I was just—”
You shook your head, breathing uneven. “And I hated it. I hated myself for it.”
Soonyoung’s mouth opened slightly, but nothing came out.
You kept going anyway, because stopping felt impossible now.
“I would go out with him,” you said, voice quieter but more wrecked, “and he would be nice and normal and good, and I would still come home and think about you. I would—” you swallowed hard, “I would hook up with him and then I’d just lie there afterwards thinking about you. Wishing it was you. Every time. Every single time.”
Your hands clenched at your sides.
“It was driving me crazy,” you admitted, voice cracking again. “I couldn’t do it anymore. So I ended it. Because it wasn’t fair to him. And it wasn’t fair to me either.”
Soonyoung looked like he’d been hit with something he didn’t know how to respond to. His voice came out low. “You never told me.”
You let out a shaky breath, laughing once through tears. “Why would I? You were the one who said we were just friends.”
That landed. Hard. His expression tightened, something painful flickering across his face.
“I didn’t know,” he said, quieter now.
You wiped your cheeks again, but it didn’t help much. “Of course you didn’t. Because I wasn’t going to sit here and beg you to want me after you already decided I was just—whatever I was to you.”
“That’s not—” he started, stepping forward slightly.
But you shook your head immediately. “Don’t.”
Your voice dropped, exhausted now more than angry. “I tried to move on. I really did. And I still couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Then softer, almost broken:
“And now you’re telling me you feel the same?”
Soonyoung looked at you like the answer was the easiest thing in the world and the hardest thing he’d ever had to say out loud.
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I do.”
And the space between you didn’t feel empty anymore.
Soonyoung was still looking at you like he was afraid you might disappear if he blinked wrong.
And you were still crying, but it had shifted now—less like breaking, more like something finally spilling over after being held back too long.
“You’re serious?” you asked quietly, almost disbelieving.
He nodded immediately. “I’ve never been more serious about anything.”
A shaky breath left you, and you looked away for a second, trying to steady yourself. “So all this time…”
“I thought I was doing the right thing,” he said, voice rougher now. “I thought stepping back would make it easier. For both of us. And then you started seeing him and I—” He stopped, jaw tightening. “I couldn’t handle it. I couldn’t act like I didn’t care.”
You let out a small, broken laugh. “Yeah, I noticed.”
That earned the faintest, strained exhale from him—almost a laugh, but not quite.
Then he stepped closer again, slower this time, like he was giving you space to stop him if you wanted to. But he didn’t reach for you. Not yet. Just stayed there, close enough that you could feel him.
“I didn’t stop caring,” he said quietly. “I just didn’t know what to do with it.”
Your chest ached at that. Because that was the part that hurt the most—that neither of you had known what to do with anything.
You wiped your face again, but your hands were still shaking slightly. “So what now?” you asked.
Soonyoung didn’t answer immediately.
His eyes flickered over your face like he was memorizing it again, like he was trying to catch up on everything he’d missed while pretending not to look too closely.
“I don’t want to lose you again,” he said finally.
That did it. Something in your expression softened, even through everything still tangled inside you. You hesitated for only a second before speaking, voice quieter now.
The question hung between you for half a heartbeat as if it was crossing a fine line you both had written a year ago.
Soonyoung’s expression shifted instantly—something raw and almost disbelieving breaking through the tension. Then he shook his head slightly, stepping forward just enough to close the last bit of space between you.
“You don’t even need to ask,” he said softly.
And that was all it took.
Soonyoung pulled you in, but it wasn’t forceful. It was urgent in a way that came from months of restraint, of almost-moments, of stopping himself from reaching for you when he wanted to. Your hands grabbed at his shirt instinctively, like your body had already decided before your mind could catch up, and the moment his mouth met yours, everything else disappeared.
It was passionate, not in a rushed or careless way, but in the way of something that had been denied for too long. There was frustration in it—years of misunderstanding, weeks of silence, months of pretending not to care—but underneath that, something softer broke through. Relief. Recognition. The overwhelming sense of finally.
Soonyoung’s hand stayed at your cheek at first, steadying you like he needed proof you were really there, while the other slid lightly to your waist, pulling you closer until there was no space left for hesitation. You felt yourself melt into him almost immediately, like your body remembered before your thoughts did. Like it had been waiting for this exact feeling without ever admitting it out loud.
And you could feel it in the way he kissed you back—less controlled now, more open, like something inside him had snapped loose. Every small movement carried everything neither of you had said: the jealousy, the regret, the longing that had been sitting between you both for months without anywhere to go.
Your breath hitched again, sharper this time, and that small sound between you seemed to change something in him.
Soonyoung responded immediately, like he’d been waiting for any excuse to stop holding back. The kiss deepened—not rushed, but undeniably more intense now, like the restraint between you had finally given way completely. His hand at your waist tightened slightly as he pulled you closer, and you felt the last bit of distance disappear until there was nothing left to question, nothing left to hesitate over.
Your fingers moved before you could overthink it, sliding up from his chest and under the hem of his shirt. His skin was warm beneath your touch, and the contact alone made something in your chest tighten in a way that had nothing to do with confusion anymore.
Soonyoung let out a quiet breath against your mouth at the feeling, and it only made you braver.
He broke the kiss for half a second—barely enough space to breathe—foreheads almost brushing, eyes half-lidded like he was trying to stay grounded in the moment. But then he looked at you properly, and whatever restraint he had left slipped again.
His hand slid under your shirt too, warm palm meeting your side, fingers spreading slightly as if he needed to feel you fully to believe you were there. The touch was careful but certain, like he already knew the shape of you even after all this time, like muscle memory was doing what words never could.
And that did something to you.
Your breath caught again, uneven now, and you pulled him back in without thinking, kissing him deeper this time—less hesitant, more sure. His response was immediate, like he’d been waiting for you to choose him all over again.
There was no awkwardness in the way you fit together, no learning curve, no uncertainty. Just familiarity that had been sitting under everything for too long, finally allowed to surface.
Soonyoung’s hand stayed at your waist under your shirt, steady and grounding, while your fingers curled lightly against his side like you were reminding yourself he was real. The kiss slowed only slightly—not because it lost intensity, but because it started to feel less like urgency and more like something that had always been there, waiting for the right moment to be acknowledged.
And for the first time in a long time, neither of you pulled away first.
The voice cut through everything like a slap.
You both froze instantly, still too close, still mid-moment, turning your heads toward the sound in sync.
Seokmin was standing in the doorway to the living room, one hand half covering his face like he wasn’t sure whether to laugh or walk back out. His eyes darted between you two before he let out a loud, incredulous sigh.
“You are doing it AGAIN,” he said, pointing vaguely at you both like he was personally exhausted by the pattern. “How do I keep finding out about this in real time??”
You pulled back slightly, still breathing unevenly, cheeks flushed as you blinked at him. Soonyoung didn’t move much either, but there was the faintest sheepish look crossing his face now.
Seokmin stepped further into the room, shaking his head. “You literally told me you were just friends like a week ago. A WEEK AGO.”
You let out a breathless laugh, still trying to process everything yourself. “It’s a long story.”
He stared at you both for another second, then threw his hands up. “Of course it is.”
You finally shifted away from Soonyoung just a little more, though his hand lingered at your waist like he wasn’t fully ready to let go yet.
“I’ll tell you tomorrow,” you added, still a little out of breath, trying to sound normal and failing slightly.
Seokmin narrowed his eyes. “You better. I want full details this time.”
Then he muttered under his breath as he turned away, “I cannot keep living like this,” before disappearing back down the hallway.
You barely waited for Seokmin’s footsteps to fade before you moved.
Your hand slipped into Soonyoung’s without thinking, fingers threading together like they’d always known how to fit. He looked down at it for a fraction of a second—like that alone still felt unreal—before you tugged gently, already leading him down the hallway.
You pushed your bedroom door open, stepping inside in a familiar rush of movement that felt too similar to a memory you both had been avoiding. The air in the room was warm, dim, private in a way that made everything outside of it feel irrelevant.
Soonyoung followed you in immediately.
The second the door clicked shut behind him, he reached back and locked it without hesitation.
When he turned back to you, there was a pause—small, loaded, almost like both of you were silently acknowledging how quickly everything had changed, how easily you’d fallen back into something that had never really left.
Then Soonyoung crossed the space between you in two steps.
And this time, there was no hesitation left to work through.
He guided you back toward the bed gently but without doubt, and you went willingly, the back of your knees meeting the mattress as he followed you down. The moment you were both there, he was on top of you again—not in a way that felt overwhelming, but in a way that felt inevitable, like gravity had finally stopped pretending.
His hand came up to your face almost immediately, thumb brushing lightly along your cheek as he looked at you properly for a second, like he still needed to confirm this wasn’t something he was going to wake up from.
“You’re really here,” he murmured.
You let out a soft breath, your hands finding his again without thinking, holding on like you were grounding yourself in him just as much. “Yeah,” you whispered. “I am.”
He leaned in again, slower this time, and you met him halfway, the kiss deepening instantly but gradually losing its restraint in a way that made your breathing turn uneven against his mouth. It wasn’t rushed, but it was no longer careful either. Every pause between you was shorter now, every return to each other more instinctive, like neither of you wanted distance to exist at all.
Soonyoung’s breath broke against yours for a second, forehead brushing yours as he tried to steady himself, but it didn’t last long. The moment your fingers tightened slightly at his collar, he was kissing you again—slower at first, then deeper, like the feeling of you under his hands made it harder to think clearly.
Your breathing started to mix between you, uneven and close, the kind of closeness that made everything else feel far away. His hand at your waist shifted like he was grounding himself in you, and yours stayed in his hair, holding him there just as firmly.
There was a quiet pause where you both just looked at each other—too close, too real, too much history sitting in the space between your breaths.
Neither of you said anything.
Soonyoung exhaled softly, something unreadable flickering across his face—relief, disbelief, something almost overwhelmed—but when he leaned in again, it was gentler this time. Slower. Like he was choosing to stay present in it instead of letting it spiral forward too fast.
Just like how you both were meant to be.
—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The next morning felt softer in a way neither of you had fully adjusted to yet.
Not awkward—just different. Like the world had quietly rearranged itself overnight and was now waiting to see how you both would move through it. You woke up tangled in each other's arms just as you used to. It was familiar, comfortable.
You were in the kitchen first, making coffee out of habit, when Soonyoung came up behind you and rested his chin briefly on your shoulder then kissing your cheek like it was the most natural thing in the world. No hesitation. No second-guessing. Just him, warm and real, like he belonged there.
Seokmin, unfortunately, was already awake.
He stood at the counter with his arms crossed, watching the two of you like he was trying to solve a puzzle he didn’t remember agreeing to participate in.
“So,” he said slowly, “I need to understand something.”
You glanced at him over your shoulder, stirring your coffee. “You do not.”
“You two were just ‘friends’—your words, by the way—like a week ago.” He says confused.
You exchanged a look with Soonyoung. A very tired, very knowing look. Then you both shrugged at the same time.
“It got complicated,” you said simply.
“Soonyoung stopped pretending,” Soonyoung added in the third person.
Seokmin stared at both of you in silence for a long moment.
That made you laugh properly this time.
Eventually, over coffee and half-eaten toast, the explanation came out in pieces—less like a formal story and more like something neither of you could stop smiling through. Minghao mentioned in passing, awkward pauses that turned into realizations, jealousy that didn’t make sense until it did, feelings that had been sitting there the whole time pretending not to exist.
Seokmin listened with growing disbelief, occasionally interrupting with “that’s insane” or “you both need help,” but there was no real judgment behind it. Just exhaustion at being the only one who had apparently not been emotionally spiraling in the background.
When it finally settled, he leaned back in his chair and shook his head.
“So,” he said slowly, “you’re together now.”
Soonyoung glanced at you.
And there was no confusion in it anymore.
Soonyoung nodded. “Yeah.”
Seokmin exhaled like he was accepting defeat. “Great. Love that for you. Horrible for my peace.”
Later, when Seokmin finally left you alone, the apartment quieted again—but it wasn’t the same quiet as before. It wasn’t distance or tension or unanswered questions anymore.
You stood by the counter while Soonyoung came up beside you again, this time taking your hand without thinking twice. Like it wasn’t something new. Like it had always been allowed.
You looked at him for a moment.
“Slow,” you reminded softly.
He nodded immediately, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “Slow.”
Not because there was doubt.
Because there didn’t need to be urgency anymore.
You’d already crossed the hardest line there was.
