⤷ pairing: tennis champion!anton x coach!reader | wc: 10-15k.
⤷ summary: or alternatively, the score is 40-love. after years of playing your game, keeping a mental score of all the times he’s won your affection, he thinks 2026 might be his year. the odds are finally in his favor. something’s different this time—he's determined to win a golden match, but not for some trophy that'll just collect dust next to his collection. thanks to you, he has plenty of those. he doesn’t care about the game, all he wants is you. all he has to do is perfect his serve, win the italian open, and you’ll love him. or so he thinks. after all, they do say all is fair in love and war.
⤷ genre: lots of pining, fluff, slow-burn, suggestive, angst at times (reader goes through a lot and it manifests into her being a butthead at times, but pls be nice.)
⤷ warnings: everyone is slightly aged up for plot reasons (anton is 24 and yn is 25), profanity and explicit language, mentions of immense, borderline abusive pressure within the context of sports, sports injury, drinking, and implied sex.
⤷ song rec: the challengers score!
a/n: this is obviously inspired by the YSL photos of anton in those teeny tiny shorts, but it ended up being way more fleshed out than i expected! pretty smitten with this couple tbh. i did research the proper tennis terms so i hope this is somewhat accurate, but if certain aspects don’t sound all there, please just forgive me. i'm expecting to have it published in 3-4 days, but feel free to comment if you want to be added to a taglist!
He hates to think that this is all just a game to you.
Anton scoffs in disbelief as he watches you talk with Sungchan, cursing his own genetics for his small ears because had they been any bigger, maybe he could properly hear what you two were talking about. All he knows is what he can see, or what he wishes he can’t. That behemoth of a man is looming over your frame, his arms dangerously close to your waist, and Anton actually hisses everytime he tries to inch closer.
The only silver lining keeping him from waltzing over and ripping his arm off is that he’s confident you’re paying him no real mind. He follows your gaze, and your eyes are fixated on the tactical game board while Sungchan keeps pestering you, presumably with some overtly corny pick-up lines. He can see the gears turning in your brain as you try to knock some sense into Sungchan, because you're nothing if not professional and good at your job. Around Sungchan, your friendly demeanor operates for one and one thing only: fulfilling your quota. You need to keep him floating above a certain number of wins or else your job is in jeopardy and unfortunately for Anton, that means allowing him to flirt with you openly.
The more the scene goes on, the more Anton can feel the bile forming at the back of his throat. He’s seething with anger at this point; who does that second-place bench-warmer think he is, throwing himself at you? The way he’s curling into you and laughing by your side like you’re not being fully serious with him. Does he know that he’s a point away from throwing the game? He could at least win before he tries to get in your pants. Maybe Anton should let him know that losers aren't your type. You hate nothing more than people who can’t put money where their mouth is. Shameless, he thinks. Thinking with his dick while you’re trying to give him a real shot at becoming something. He could at least respect your time and effort here.
And you—what’s your deal? Why aren’t you exploding with anger, shouting at him to lock in? Your eyebrows aren’t even furrowed; not a single hair on your head is out of place as you calmly explain what Sungchan needs to do to win over his opponent.
Anton feels like you’re a different person when he sees you like this. Without a smidge of doubt, he knows he’s the best player you have. He knows this because he guards that title with his life. Right now, you’re killing him, and he thinks twice before calling you unfair in his mind, but he doesn’t know how else to put it. Why aren’t you like that with him? You’re constantly on his ass, firing either short quips about his outfit choices or pushing aside his exhaustion to drill more gameplay into his head. You preeminently shut down any chance and ruin the mood before he can even think to send a casual flirty remark your way. It’s psychological torture for him with you day in and day out—all to make sure his mental fortitude isn’t rattled when it comes to game days, so... why is it any different with that sorry excuse of a man?
After performing some mental gymnastics, Anton lands on a conclusion, just satisfactory enough for him to compartmentalize this moment and move on. Unlike some sex-motivated idiots, he’s more than happy to play the long game with you. He’s decided that you’re not playing into that Sungchan’s sorry attempts at flirting and treating him the same because you’re special to him. Whether that’s because you believe he’s actually talented and appreciate that he listens to your orders well in a strict mentor sense or because you see him as more than just another player to win you credibility in interviews—he isn’t really concerned with the minutiae of it all.
Anton’s watches as the game goes from match point to Sungchan barely managing to win—big fucking whoop. His eyes roll all the way to the back of his head when his opponent can’t return the ball and sees Sungchan hop over to give you a dramatic high-five. He doesn’t think he deserves any consolation prize, and most certainly not another ounce of your affection. After giving him a few final remarks, you make your way over to Anton, about to remind him about your practice session later. He immediately fixes his face and smiles as if time is slowing down in front of him, your hair cinematically waving in the wind—he can see your hand come up and he’s in the process of extending his arm up to wave back when everything comes to a halt.
Snap.
You’re snapping at his face and then your arm falls and he’s confused. Huh. He follows your fingers until his gaze lands upon his feet.
“Your shoes are untied.”
Sungchan snakes in behind you, and you’re oblivious to the way he snickers and sticks his tongue out at Anton. Anton sends him a middle finger, the most his defiance will allow him in front of your eyes. He breaks out of his trance and follows after you eagerly like a lost puppy.
a/n: also sorry to sungchan in this chapter, i love you baby i promise! i thought this was the most lighthearted part out of the content i've written so far so it felt the most appropriate for it to be the blurb but be warned there's a pretty intense emotionally gut-wrenching scene i'm still recovering from TT
loosely inspired by the new spider-man movie. you’ll see.
spider-man!anton x (f) reader. friend of a friend to lovers. oral sex (giving and receiving). sub!anton. anton’s kind of a loser in this. anton’s pov mostly. the total opposite of a slow burn. wingman!bff!sohee. angst with a happy ending.
sum. anton’s been crushing on you for months and his best friend sohee can’t stand to watch him yearn like a loser anymore, so he forces him to talk to you. as it turns out, you might be into him too. but with mind man, a supervillain, trying to get into his head, anton might not be able to spare you from what it means to be a part of spider-man’s life.
Shotaro’s party at his house, ANTON POV, 8:33 PM
Until a few seconds ago, Anton had no idea at all that you were coming.
Anton had been looking around—not for you, because he was certain you would not be there—but for the beer. “I think Shotaro’s running low.”
“Yeah. And you’re flying low. Might want to fix that before your girl gets here,” Sohee said with the same voice you would tell a friend it was expected to rain tomorrow. He was casually scrolling through his phone.
Anton’s head snapped towards him. “What?” It was the loudest a whisper could be while still maintaining its whisper quality. “I thought she wasn’t coming!”
Sohee shrugged. “She wasn’t. But Shotaro says she changed her mind.”
Anton fixed his pants, his fingers hastily working to zip them up. Then, he ran them through his hair. “Does my hair look okay?” he asked. He had not particularly dressed himself up tonight. A pair of jeans and a campus hoodie usually sufficed for Shotaro’s parties, but not if you were there.
Sohee glanced up from his phone with the faintest trace of amusement in his eyes. “Relax, dude, it’s a party, not the Met Gala. She’s probably not going to be particularly fancy herself.”
She looks fancy in everything she’s in, Anton was tempted to say, but he withheld. He knew Sohee would only tease him and call him a simp.
Within the hour, you came in holding more beer than one person ought to have been carrying, and Anton would have gone over to help had Shotaro not beat him to it. He only watched instead. You were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen by far. In jeans and a tank top, you had an otherworldly charm to your beauty. The way you smiled sent his heart fluttering up into the heavens. And your eyes, they were like nothing else, bright and warm as the sun on skin. Whenever you looked at him, he felt as though he was melting away.
Wonbin shot up from the couch. “You came!”
“Yup,” you said. “Shotaro decided to infringe upon my free will.”
What Wonbin must have heard was, “You kidnapped her.”
Shotaro took the accusation in stride, literally, as he gathered everything from your hands and headed for the kitchen. “All I did was introduce her to this beautiful thing called community.” He broke into the crowd and disappeared.
Anton watched your eyes dart across the room and brighten with familiarity as you recognized the face beside him. “Sohee,” you called, “Why are you hugging the wall?”
Sohee glanced up from his phone, grinning. “I like hugging the wall. We’ve been waiting for someone to bring beer. It’s better than getting drunk off that abomination of a punch Shotaro made and kissing the floor.”
You laughed. Then, you laid eyes on him. “Hi, Anton!”
Anton put up his hand in a shy wave. “Hey,” he replied quietly.
You did not linger. You said your greetings and went to join Eunseok and Wonbin on the couch, where they quickly roped you into playing video games.
“Real smooth,” Sohee teased.
“Shut up,” Anton told him. He did not do well with strangers. Perhaps you weren't a total stranger, but you were Shotaro’s friend more than you were his. Even Sohee knew you better than he did.
The first time Anton saw you he had been making a beeline for his Music History class after hurriedly shedding his Spider-Man gear behind one of the the less frequented buildings. A couple of morons had decided to kidnap a politician’s son thirty minutes before Anton was due to leave. The incident culminated in a shaken but otherwise unharmed eighteen-year-old, two prison-bound idiots webbed to a crashed car, some terrified civilians, and a few scratches Anton’d had no time to think on. As he was bolting across the pavement, he saw you sitting at a bench with your friends Willow and Krystal, and he almost gave himself whiplash looking at you.
He remembered hoping that he would see you again so that he could prove to himself that you were not something his mind had deliriously fashioned up after hitting his head a few times too many. He even found Sohee after class and described you vividly, the way your hair framed your face, how your nose fit you, how your lips were moist. Sohee went on Instagram and pulled up a profile, asking, “You mean her?” Anton had spent that night scrolling through your profile. He didn’t mean to be a creep, but the sight of you fascinated him and he wanted to engrave it into his memory.
And the day after that, he had gone to Shotaro and asked him to tell him everything he knew about you. Sohee had told him that you two were friends, and Anton had seen for himself that Shotaro was following you online. Shotaro advised that he should talk to you himself if he wanted to get to know you, but Anton was terribly afraid of that going wrong. What if he said something that scared you away? What if you thought he was weird? What if you decided he was boring?
So Anton never said as much as a word to you unless you spoke to him first. At least that way he knew he was not likely to make a fool of himself.
But tonight Sohee was tired of watching him brooding in the corner. “You’re ruining the vibe, man,” his friend told him. Half an hour later, you set down your controller and went off towards the kitchen. “This is your chance. Go talk to her.”
Anton protested the idea immediately. “Nope. Not doing it.”
Sohee rolled his eyes. “Yes, you are. I can’t keep watching you eat your heart out for this girl you refuse to talk to. You’re a cool, charismatic guy, but how is she supposed to know that if you don’t open your mouth and speak?”
“When I open my mouth, nothing comes out.”
“Have you even tried?” Sohee asked. “Come on. Ten minutes. If you can’t figure out what to say in ten minutes, I’ll consider you incorrigibly doomed and never bring it up again.”
Against his will, Anton wound up meandering towards the kitchen where he found you on your phone, leaning against the counter. “Hey,” he forced out. “Just… needed a break from the noise.”
You glanced up from your phone. “Oh, okay. Cool.” You glanced back down.
“Yeah. Cool.” Anton was already regretting this. What was he supposed to say now? “Wonbin’s gonna be sad you bailed on him. He looked like he was really getting into it.” I’m just making it worse.
“Wonbin gets a little too into it,” you said. “Besides, I’m not a video game person anyway.”
“Yeah, me neither,” Anton said. “I just like to chill and listen to music.”
You put your phone away. “What kind of music do you listen to?”
Although Sohee was still in the living room, Anton could still hear him in his head. She’s engaging. Don’t blow it, Sohee’s voice was saying. “Pretty much everything. I’ve been exposed to a lot of stuff over the years. Lately, I’ve been on a Neo Soul craze.”
“Neo Soul?” you echoed, smiling.
Did I choose the wrong dialogue option? Anton asked himself. “Yeah…? Why do you say it like that?”
You glanced him over. “No reason,” you said, but he could see the amusement in your eyes. “So, do you like D’Angelo?”
Anton willed himself to relax. “Are you kidding? He had something really rare. I’m always in awe with his vocal layering. Actually, I’ve been listening to ‘Another Life’ a lot lately. One of the best songs ever created.”
“‘Another Life?’” You laughed. “Do you have a secret crush I don’t know about?”
Anton’s heart was pounding. “What? No. No. That’s not why. I just… like the music.”
“That’s fair.”
He couldn’t tell if you believed him or not. “What about you?”
You thought about it. “I think my favorite song is ‘Me and Those Dreamin’ Eyes of Mine.’ I love a song that’s beautiful and yearnful, you know? And he has a way of keeping everything from sounding empty. Stuff like that amazes me. I hear great songs and just wonder about the process behind it.”
That answer surprised Anton. Most people he met didn’t question music that deeply. “Have you ever made music?”
You turned shy. “Well, yes. I’ve written and produced a few songs before. But I’m not an expert or anything. I’d like to learn more.”
Yes. Yes, yes, yes. I can’t believe this. “I’m, uh, a music student. I produce songs in my free time. I’ve been practicing since I was in middle school,” Anton said coolly. “I could show you what I know one day. If you wanted that.”
“That’s really nice of you,” you replied softly.
Her voice is beautiful, Anton was thinking. This was the most he had said to you ever. Just as that realization came to him, his special ringtone went off, drawing his attention to the phone tucked into his back pocket. “Sorry, that’s my little brother. He only calls me when it’s important. I should go, but, uh, maybe we can pick this up later?”
“Yeah. Sure,” you agreed. “Do you want my number?”
Anton’s mind grounded to a halt. “Yes.” But at the same time, every second he was here, someone was out there wreaking havoc across New York.
“I’ll have Shotaro text it to you,” you said. “Bye-bye, Anton.”
The way you said his name always made his chest feel warm. “Thanks. See you later.” He grabbed his backpack and went out through the back door.
Anton had two ringtones: one was his regular ringtone that sounded when someone was calling him, but the other was connected to a feature Sohee had built into his phone that alerted him of when an urgent crime was happening somewhere nearby.
Sohee was the only person who knew Anton’s secret identity, and that was only because he had been waiting for him in his bedroom when Anton climbed in one day in high school. In the end, this proved beneficial for Anton; not only did Sohee cover for him when he was out of excuses, but he helped him design tools that facilitated his Spider-Man endeavors.
Anton donned his Spider-Man wear and swung out into the night. It was windy around this time, but he liked the way the air buffeted his face through his mask. The city was swallowed in the shadows where evil lurked unseen, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. It was his job to rid this city of these criminals that sought only to destroy and harm, and his responsibility to make sure that people felt safe and protected in their home.
Per the app Sohee had built, some burglars had broken into a woman’s house and ran off with thousands of dollars worth of jewelry. They were on the road now in what a neighbor had described as a dark blue-ish sedan. Most likely they had not gotten far.
He was only glad it wasn’t Mind Man tonight. Petty criminals posed no real threat to him, but Mind Man was something else entirely. When they fought, Anton had the sickening feeling that Mind Man was fighting him to understand more than he was fighting him to win. Every time, Anton got the better of him, but the victory never left a sweet taste in his mouth. And with every new duel, Mind Man grew stronger and less predictable.
Anton threw himself into the air over and over. In the sky, he felt untouchable. He liked to get up as high as he could and throw himself off rooftops, dive, pull himself up, and swing on and on and on. There was something about it that gave him a rush. The way the world would swallow him up and then he’d launch himself out of its mouth before it could sink its teeth into him. When he was up here, nothing could hurt him.
He wished other people could feel like this. Free, like a bird… or a spider. Every now and then when Anton was having a hard time he just took to the sky and swung around until his head felt clearer and his heart felt lighter. Up here, there was no need for thinking or feeling. You could just exist.
Only a few minutes had passed before a sedan swerving recklessly caught his eye, blue in color. “Got you,” he muttered to himself. He swung with alarm now. Any more of this and they would cause a wreck. He threw himself down onto the hood of the vehicle. “Stop the car!”
The driver had a battered face and scruffy beard. “Look who it is,” he said gruffly. “Get off my car or I’ll kill you, Spider-Man.”
“I wouldn’t really recommend that. Can we try talking it out over coffee? If you pull over, there’s a nice coffee shop near—”
The man in the passenger seat took out a rifle and started shooting at him.
Anton leapt onto the roof of the car, dodging the bullets as they flew into the air. “Okay, so no coffee. Maybe beer? You guys like beer?”
“Kill him!” shouted the driver.
“Okay, okay, point taken. You know what they say. Don’t bring beer to a gun fight.” The first thing he did was disarm shoots-a-lot in the passenger seat. He reeled the rifle towards himself with a web, used another to block the barrel, and a final shot to bind it out of arm’s reach of the passenger.
When that was done, he dropped back down onto the hood. “You!” the driver snarled. He turned down the corner at break-neck speed, scarcely missing the others cars on the street.
Anton was dismayed. “Holy shit, man. Where did you get your license?” He climbed onto the passenger side of the car and shot a web inside, binding the driver’s hands to the steering wheel.
“You piece of shit! Get this off me!”
“No way, José,” Anton said. Another strand of silky web tugged at the driver’s foot, away from the gas pedal. The car gradually began to slow to a halt.
The man in the passenger seat barreled out of the car and bolted off into the street. “Wow. Really?” Anton said. Just as shoots-a-lot ran beside a wall on the right end of the road, Anton blew another shot that sealed him against the brick.
There were sirens howling behind them. After a few moments they came from around every corner, blocking in the car.
“Got them right here for you, officer,” Anton said. He looked between the two criminals, both locked in place. “You guys are ready for GTA 6. Too bad you can’t play in prison.”
“Thank you, Spider-Man,” an officer said as he came out of his car.
“No problem. Same time tomorrow!” Anton launched a web and pulled himself up and away. There was always a new danger.
The campus courtyard, ANTON POV, 2:57 PM
You were reading something on your phone. “Man, does Spider-Man have a job? Or school? They’re saying he caught, like, a dozen dudes last night.”
Shotaro shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe that is his job.”
“Do you think Spider-Man is making minimum wage?” Sohee asked with a smile.
You giggled. “I wonder who he is. Do you guys think he’s hot?”
Anton made a strangled noise.
Everyone’s heads whipped towards him. “Anton? You good?” Shotaro asked, brows stitched with concern.
Anton forced a smile. “No, yeah. Just choked on my saliva.”
Sohee was grinning from ear to ear. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “That’s an interesting question. But the mystery is the whole appeal. It would be boring if everyone knew what he looked like. But who knows? Maybe he’s an absolute beast beneath the spandex.”
Shotaro thought about it. “I mean, you can tell he has a nice build. You have to be in good shape to do all that swinging and stuff,” he agreed. “I never thought about whether or not he was hot though.” He turned towards you. “Why? Do you want him to be hot?”
You shrugged indifferently. “A lot of girls our age think he’s hot. Have you opened any social media platform ever? There’s even Spider-Man fanfiction.”
Anton felt like he was going to die. “I don’t think people should write creepy stuff about him. He’s just some guy trying to do the right thing.”
Sohee ignored him entirely. “Do you read Spider-Man fanfiction?” he asked you.
You shoved Sohee away. “No, I don’t read Spider-Man fanfiction, dude. I’ve moved onto Ghostface now.”
Sohee laughed incredulously. “Ghostface? Really? A serial killer that murders all his friends for fame and glory and whatever the fuck? That’s who you have the hots for?” He shook his head. “Women are so weird, I swear. You gave up a masked vigilante for a masked murderer.”
“I guess she’s got a type,” Shotaro said, “masked, mad and mysterious.”
“Mad?” Anton echoed.
“I think you have to be pretty mad to dedicate your life to trading blows with the Bad Guy of the Day.”
“Ghostface isn’t real, though,” you were saying. “Spider-Man is.”
Anton was in disbelief. “So because Ghostface isn’t real, he’s fair game… and you prefer him to Spider-Man who spends his time making New York City a safer place? Why?”
You shrugged again. “Don’t get me wrong. I love Spider-Man. We need him out here. But when I was reading Spider-Man fanfiction, I was, like, seventeen. Sometimes you just move on from things. And I’ve been watching a ton of horror movies lately,” you explained. “Who do you guys think would win in a fight? Ghostface or Spider-Man?”
“Spider-Man, hands down,” Sohee replied as if it were obvious. “Ghostface is literally just some random with a knife. Spider-Man is Spider-Man. Any attack Ghostface tries, Spider-Man can have him webbed against the wall easily.”
You bit your nail. “He can web me against the wall.”
Everyone’s head turned. “What?”
“Kidding, kidding,” you replied, thoroughly unconvincing. “I just don’t agree. How would Spider-Man beat Ghostface? Ghostface is always fast and strong too. And you can’t really defeat them until they’re dead. When has Spider-Man ever killed anyone?”
Anton was stiff. “I mean, what makes Spider-Man great is that he doesn’t have to kill anyone to be helpful. He doesn’t believe in needless violence.”
Sohee snorted. He’s enjoying this, Anton thought to himself. “Dude, you’re defending him pretty hard. You got a crush on the guy?” he asked knowingly. “She does make a good point, though. Ghostface plays by his own rules.”
“That’s true,” Shotaro agreed. “Ghostface is ruthless, but I think Spidey could kill him if he wanted to, or had to.”
Thank you, Anton was saying in his mind.
“Whatever,” you replied dismissively. “I need to see what Spidey’s working with underneath the suit before I decide if he’s smashable. If he’s jacked but ugly he has to keep the mask on.”
Anton almost walked into Shotaro when you said that. When will this conversation be over?
Sohee was tickled, but he said nothing. For now.
Shotaro, none the wiser, continued to entertain the debate. “There’s just no way he isn’t fit.”
Anton looked to Sohee for help, but the amusement on his face signaled that he was utterly alone. “Guys, you can’t just judge someone’s worth by their body. I mean, what if he’s got a nice personality?”
You rolled your eyes. “Come on. I’m not saying he should be put to death if he’s ugly, but would you fuck someone you don’t find attractive?”
Sohee was almost choking with how hard he was restraining himself from laughter.
Anton couldn’t meet your eyes. “There’s more to attraction than just looks,” he said softly. “Personality, chemistry…”
“I don’t think this is helping your case, man,” Sohee butt in. “In order to judge Spider-Man’s personality, she would have to know him. But she doesn’t.”
Anton sighed. “I don’t know why I’m even arguing about this. I’m just saying that looks aren’t everything. Attraction is made up of a lot of different components, and not everyone needs to see someone’s face to feel a connection.”
Shotaro was touched. “That’s sweet, man.” He patted Anton on the back. “Whoever Spider-Man is, I’m sure he’d appreciate you coming to defend him this hard.”
“I just wouldn’t let an ugly man touch me. I have dignity,” you said abruptly.
“No, yeah,” Anton said. “You should do whatever makes you comfortable.”
Sohee finally burst into laughter. “This conversation just made my whole day, because I’m pretty sure I bombed my exam.”
Shotaro shook his head. “Ease up on the guy. He was just trying to defend Spider-Man’s honor.”
Anton smiled, as if finally understanding the lack of gravity of the dialogue they were having. “I’m just saying we should give him the benefit of the doubt. What if he has a nice voice?”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure to keep that in mind the next time I have a conversation with Spider-Man,” you droned.
Sohee chuckled. “So, who’s your favorite Ghostface?”
You paused to consider it. “I love Stu and Billy, like there’s just something about the magic of the original that I don’t think can be replicated, but I also love Ethan. He’s hot and I’m a sucker for a shy dork.”
A shy dork. Anton looked away.
“I guess I can see the appeal,” Sohee said. “He’s got the whole quiet thing going on, like he’s harmless but a little unhinged beneath the surface. That your thing?”
“I mean, I don’t want to date someone who’s an undercover psychopath,” you said, “but I can handle a little peculiarity. Who wants a serial killer?”
“A little peculiarity. Yeah. Makes sense,” Anton murmured.
Shotaro threw him a curious look, but said nothing. “Anyway, we should all have a movie night again and do a horror theme this time.”
“I’m so in,” Sohee said. “I love watching this girl pretend she’s not scared and then scream out of nowhere.”
You looked annoyed. “I don’t scream. I just make a little noise.”
Anton’s lips twitched. “I believe you.”
“Don’t,” Shotaro said. “The first and last time I watched a movie with her, she couldn’t sit still. And then she kept yelling: ‘are you dumb?’ ‘Look behind you!’ ‘Why aren’t you running?’”
Sohee laughed. “We’re having a movie night for sure. Let’s do my place. Bring your own snacks though.” He turned to Anton. “You’re coming, right?”
You glanced over at Anton who was walking on your far left. “Yeah, you’re coming. Right?”
It was nothing when Sohee had asked him, but when you did it, he felt like there was no way he could refuse. “Yeah. Yeah. For sure.”
You grinned. “Try not to get dragged away this time.”
For a second Anton was afraid he had done something to plant suspicion in your mind that night, afraid that you knew something you should not have known… but then he realized he was being paranoid and there was no way you could have figured him out for a certainty. “I’ll try my best,” he said.
Movie night at Sohee’s house, ANTON POV, 7:22 PM
All four of you had gotten cozy on the sofa, Shotaro, you, Sohee and Anton, in that order. A bowl of popcorn was being shared by each pair.
Anton was not normally one to watch horror films, but he supposed it wasn’t so bad with three friends in his company. And besides you had wanted him here. That alone was more than enough reason to stay.
He was hardly paying the movie any mind anyway. His attention was on you. You became restless when the music grew dramatic and tense, looked away from the screen when something particularly brutal was happening, and yet you seemed totally enraptured by the disturbing contents of this frightening movie. He watched how you clung to Shotaro for comfort and winced when a character took a mortal blow. He noticed how you shrunk when someone you had liked was mangled and butchered beyond salvation. He saw the way your eyes were fixed to the screen with a new intensity during the final act.
What Anton did not expect was for you to ask him halfway through the second movie of the evening, “Anton, do you wanna grab me another water?”
It was a strange request, mostly because he was the furthest from the kitchen, but he did not deny you. “Sure,” he said. He got up; he walked behind the couch to avoid blocking the screen; he went to the kitchen; he grabbed a bottle of water from Sohee’s fridge; he walked back and handed it to you; he sat back down.
You smiled. “Thanks, Anton.”
“No problem,” Anton replied quietly. He forced himself to look at the television mounted on the wall. Something in him died when he felt your fingers brush against yours during the handoff. It came back to life when he heard you say his name.
By the end of the third movie, everyone seemed to have tapped out and had their fill of blood and gore for one evening. Anton and Sohee were hovering in the kitchen. “That could have meant something,” Anton was saying, “or it could have meant nothing. What do you think? I’m overthinking it, right? She was just thirsty.”
Sohee groaned. “My brother, she asked you to get her water. Not me. Not Shotaro. You. She could have asked anyone else in the room, but she asked the guy she barely knows who’s sitting on the other side of the couch. Come on, man.”
Anton didn’t want to get his hopes up over something as insignificant as a bottle of water, but he had to admit that it felt intentional.
Before he could respond, he heard your voice from behind him. “Anton,” you called out, emerging from the living room. “I believe I’m owed a conversation.”
You reached for a family sized bag of barbecue chips that you had brought with you when you came through the door. “Want some?” you asked Anton.
“Yeah,” Anton said softly. “I want some.”
He ignored the way Sohee was grinning at him as he followed you wherever you were taking him. You wound up at the top of the building, a faint breeze making Anton’s hair rustle like leaves in the wind. He watched you settle down near the edge of the rooftop, the city sprawling beneath his feet with a lifelike quality of its own. He lowered himself beside you but kept a respectful distance.
“How do you do that?”
You opened the bag of chips and held it between you both. “Do what?”
Anton looked around. Darkness loomed around them, but the city lights kept everything luminous. “Make everything easy,” he said. “I mean, I’ve been wanting to talk to you for real for months. And you walk up and offer me chips like it’s nothing.”
You chuckled. “I can be shy too,” you confessed. “It’s just that when I meet someone shyer than me, it makes me feel bold. Maybe I’m a predator or some shit. And you’re my prey.”
Anton paused in the middle of reaching for a chip. Then, he burst into laughter. “Prey? That’s what I am to you?” He shook his head. “Should I be nervous?”
“Maybe,” you said. You leaned in. “It makes me feel in control.”
For a small moment Anton felt his heart stop. His eyes darted to your lips, but he forced himself to look away. “In control?” he repeated. “That sounds, uh, dangerous.”
You giggled and pulled away. “So, do you have female friends?”
The question caught Anton off guard, but he was not compelled to lie. “Uh, yeah,” he said. “I have a few. I mean, I don’t have a ton of friends in general, but some of them are girls and some of them are guys. Why?”
“Oh, no reason,” you said, your voice too high-pitched and easygoing for him to believe you. “Do you like kids?”
Anton couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being lured into a trap of some kind. “Do I like kids? I mean, yeah? I have a little brother. He’s not, like, a little kid anymore, but I remember when he was. And I used to help kids learn to swim, back in high school.” He stared at you warily. “Is this a trick?”
“Nope,” you said. “So, like, have you ever heard of artists like SOPHIE? BAYLI? Underscores? Destin Conrad?”
“I know all of them except BAYLI,” Anton said. “Why? Should I get into them?”
You giggled. “Absolutely, she’s amazing,” you told him. “So hypothetically… let’s say you’re really mad at Sohee. Like, he’s teasing you and he just takes it too far one day. And you’re already in a shit mood. What do you do?”
Anton knew for sure he was being tested now, but he said nothing about it. “Well… if Sohee pissed me off, he’d know because I’d stop talking to him for a while. I’d just take a moment to myself to chill out and think on it. And then when I’m ready we can talk it out.”
“Interesting.”
“Is it really?”
You didn’t answer. “So, like… what are your plans for the future?”
Anton glanced off into the distance again. The future. What good had it ever done him to make plans about something so uncertain as that? When he was a boy, all he had cared about was being good enough at swimming that it would open doors for him. Then when he was in high school, a spider bit him, and it changed his life forever.
Now as far as he knew, his future was here, protecting the city he called home by night while by day he was figuring out what it meant to be Anton Lee. “Music. I want to produce and write. Maybe put out my own stuff eventually, but I’m more comfortable behind the scenes.” He had spoken so much about himself he felt as though he was being interviewed. “What about you? What do you want to do?”
You shrugged. “I just like… stories. I love writing and reading. Listening to music too. There’s just something about something that can take you to another world. Even if it’s just for an hour and then reality grounds you back to earth.”
Your words struck a place deep inside him that Anton visited often. “Yeah. I know what you mean.” He met your eyes. “I’d like to read your stories sometime.”
“Maybe one day you can,” you said in a small voice. “Did you grow up here? I love New York.”
She’s shy when it comes to talking about her art, Anton noticed. One time was a coincidence, but twice was a pattern. The thought made him smile. He would have to be gentle about it, then. “I was born in Boston, but I grew up here, yeah. This is home for me. You?”
“I just came here to get away,” you said. “I’m from a really boring city in the south that we shall not name. After graduating high school, I kind of just wanted to be far enough from home that driving is impractical.”
Anton wondered what could have driven you to want to be that far away, but he didn’t pry. Not now. “You’re in the right place, then. Nobody really looks twice at anyone here.”
“It’s really nice,” you said, glancing down at the bustling streets below. “What would you change about it?”
Anton followed your gaze. “What would I change?” he repeated quietly. He sighed. “The rent prices, for one. It shouldn’t cost an arm and a leg just to basically live in someone’s closet. And I’d… make it safer. It can be really dangerous sometimes. I want people to feel like they can walk home without looking over their shoulder.”
You hummed. “That’s reasonable.”
Anton’s heart felt lighter. The conversation had drifted somewhere easy. “You’re really easy to talk to,” he said after a pause.
“Thanks,” you said, grinning. “You too. Although we should probably head back down.”
“You’re right.” Even as he said that, there was a hint of reluctance in his voice. “Sohee’s gonna think I fell down the roof.” He stood up and outstretched his hand.
“Relax. I think I can still stand up by myself.” You accepted his hand anyway.
Anton pulled you up gingerly, his breathing trapped in his throat as he felt your fingers, soft and supple, close around his own. He held them for a second longer than he should have. “Just being polite,” he murmured. “You know, between you and me, I wasn’t in a hurry to go back down.”
“I know,” you said with a teasing smile. You led him down anyway.
“Look who decided to join us,” Sohee said when the two of you returned. “Were you doing a tour or what?”
“Oh, yeah. A very thorough tour at that,” you said as you went to set your barbecue chips on the table. “Had to make sure he saw all the bird shit. He said that was his favorite part.”
Anton played along. “No, yeah. The bird shit really helped set the vibe.”
Sohee crossed his arms. “Right. That’s exactly what happened. I believe you guys.” There was a knowing twinkle in his eyes as he glanced at Anton. “Maybe just try not to get lost next time.”
You stretched your arms above your head and yawned. “I think I’m going to call it a night. Later, boys.”
Anton resisted a frown. “Good night. Text me when you get home. So I know you made it back safe.”
Sohee waved. “Just don’t get murdered. I would miss you a little bit.”
You flipped Sohee off, waved at Anton, bid your goodbyes to Shotaro who was lying on the couch, and slipped through the front door.
When you were gone, Sohee wanted to know the truth of it immediately. “So? What really happened? You guys were gone for nearly forty minutes. Did you kiss her?”
Anton rubbed his nape. “We just… talked.”
Sohee was not impressed. “About…?”
The conversation was always replaying in Anton’s head and you had only just left. “She asked me a bunch of questions. About my future, music, if I like kids, that sort of thing.”
“What?” Sohee was beaming. “Dude. You’re serious? She asked you if you like kids? That’s serious.”
Anton felt restless. “Or she was just curious. Just making conversation.” Even he didn’t believe that himself.
“I don’t think women just go around asking guys they just met if they like children for no good reason,” Sohee told him. “What else did she ask you?”
Anton thought about it. “She asked me if I had female friends.”
Sohee seemed thrilled. “Oh, yeah, man. She wants to see if you’re a good, respectful young man.”
For once Anton let himself feel some kind of hope. “I should probably text her.”
“You absolutely should,” Sohee agreed. “Maybe mention the chips, I don’t know. She brought chips. Girls like when you remember shit. It’s the little things.”
That night, Anton lay in bed, thinking way too much on what would be the best thing to say. He typed a message and deleted it. He typed another and deleted that too. “Fuck,” he swore under his breath. What were you doing to him?
anton: hey, i had a good time tn. hope you got home okay. thanks for the chips
He settled for that message and forced himself asleep.
When he woke, there was a new message from you on his screen.
you: hey, sorry. fell asleep. thanks for looking out tho. see u when i see ya 😝
Anton must have read the text ten times before he realized he needed to start his day.
A party at some dude named Tyler’s house, ANTON POV, 9:42 PM
Normally Anton would have rather been home, but any chance at seeing you was a chance he was willing to take.
Tyler Rockwell threw parties like it was his life’s calling and absolute duty, nearly every weekend without fail. His parties were open to whoever wanted to show and his friends were always coming up with innovative ways to risk a visit to the emergency room. Anton preferred Shotaro’s parties. Shotaro was picky with his guest list, which meant the size was bound to be more intimate, and they shared a social circle to an extent. A smaller crowd with more familiar faces was easier for him. Usually at parties like this one he stuck to who he knew until he got bored or drunk and wanted to go home.
Around him the music was booming so aggressively he could feel it beneath his shoes and in his bones. A few people bumped into him wordlessly as they passed by, and he could hardly be mad at them when everyone in the room was standing shoulder to shoulder. Gingerly he wove through them in the sparse spaces where the throng of bodies broke up, passing a bundle of tipsy partygoers playing beer pong and a pair of freshmen smoking in a corner. He saw Shotaro in the kitchen laughing with one of his dance crewmates; Eunseok dueling someone on the couch; and Sohee flirting with that Zoe girl he was crushing on.
When he finally laid eyes on you after minutes of ceaseless searching, you were standing by the patio doors talking to a guy Anton had never seen before. He was tall, maybe even taller than Anton, brown of hair, and standing close enough to you that it made Anton’s chest tighten.
Shotaro came up beside him. “Anton, you made it.”
He wished he hadn’t. “Who’s that?” he asked, gesturing over to where you were laughing with another guy.
Shotaro let his eyes be directed there. “Oh, that’s Mason. Mason Mooney. He’s a friend of Tyler’s. Smooth talker.” His voice was not fond. “Are you just curious or are you asking because you’re jealous?”
Anton tried to play it cool. “I’m not jealous. She can talk to whoever she wants.”
Shotaro was unconvinced. “Yeah. Sure.” He took a sip of his drink. “Mason’s a real flirt. Not really the kind of guy she’s into. She’ll probably get bored of him before the night’s over with. I wouldn’t lose any sleep over it.”
“I’m not—I don’t care about that,” Anton insisted.
Shotaro snickered. “Okay. You don’t care about that. I’m gonna go grab another drink. You want one?”
When Anton shook his head, Shotaro clapped him on the shoulder and disappeared into the crowd. You were the whole reason he had even come to this party and now he was here for nothing. Maybe he would go back out and spend the night patrolling. He would need to be clearheaded if he did that.
And yet he hardly moved from that spot. His eyes were fixed on you and this Mason guy he had never heard of until now who was making you laugh in the middle of a party where any guy would surely have loved to talk to you. Anton knew he would have. Lately he had been thinking about you and the exchange you’d had up there on Sohee’s rooftop, no one privy to your conversation but the moon and the streets below. It was all he could think about.
Walk away, he told himself, don’t be that guy. Anton almost did turn and head out where he came in. But then he saw Mason gesture towards the stairs. He saw you take Mason’s hand and follow him up.
Against his better judgment, Anton slipped through everyone in the crowd and trailed behind far enough to go undetected. When you disappeared up the stairs, he stayed at the bottom, just within earshot.
“I’ve been waiting to do this all night,” came Mason’s voice in the upper hall.
He heard your voice only a couple of seconds later. “You mean a chance to get me alone?”
“You make it sound so wrong,” Mason was saying. “Is it a crime if I want to be alone with a beautiful woman?”
“Mmmm. No. But you do know I have options, right?”
Mason let out a breathy laugh. “Looking like that, I don’t doubt it,” he said, “but you’re not with your other options. You’re with me. What’s that tell you? ‘Cause I know what it’s telling me.”
“Tells me that I’m a little curious,” you said. “What do you like about me anyway?”
Anton felt his heart thundering.
“I like that you keep me on my toes,” Mason replied smoothly. “Never know what’s gonna come out of your mouth next. I like that you say what’s on your mind. I like that you know you could have anyone in this party, but you’re standing right here with me.” There was a lull of silence where Anton could hear nothing but the two of you breathing. “So, what’s it gonna take for you to give me a chance? A drink? A walk? Another party?”
You chuckled. “I don’t know. I feel like you just want to fuck me.”
“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed,” Mason admitted, “but that’s not the only reason I’m talking to you. I like you. I like your attitude. I like your style. I like that pretty little smile. See, there it is. Look at that smile. Gorgeous.”
Anton heard you giggling. “Let’s just go in here and talk, yeah?”
“Okay. I can talk.”
A door opened and shut. Anton stood frozen at the foot of the stairs before he willed himself to turn away. It’s her life. She’s a grown woman. She can talk to whoever she wants.
He made his way to the front door and slipped back out into the night, perching on the steps. The night was a bleak thing around him, a starless sky straggling far and wide for miles. From here the party was trapped behind the threshold, struggling against the door, resisting its walls, threatening to burst into the streets.
Anton thought about the rooftop: the shared chips, the way you made his name sound grand and monumental, the way he had let himself hope that you might want him the way he wanted you. Then, he thought about Mason, who had seemed so confident and sure of himself, the kind of guy who got any girl he wanted. He didn’t know if he could compete with that.
Behind him the door creaked open, some of the chaos from inside spilling out for a moment. Anton did not turn around, but he recognized Sohee’s footsteps when he heard them. Sohee settled down beside him. “Shotaro saw you leave. Said you looked gloomy. I thought I’d come out and check on you.”
Anton didn’t meet Sohee’s eyes. “Just getting some air.”
Sohee didn’t respond immediately. “She went upstairs with Mason. You know that doesn’t mean shit, right? Plus she can hang out with whoever she wants.”
“I know.” Anton had been reminding himself that much repeatedly.
“Then, what’s going on up there, bro?”
Anton released a weary breath. “I don’t know. It’s just… that night on the rooftop, everything felt… legit, you know? Like it could really be something. And now she’s over here laughing with some other guy that’s smooth and charming…”
Sohee didn’t let him finish. “Hey, man. What Mason has doesn’t take away from who you are. You’re a cool dude. I don’t think she would have spent nearly an hour talking to you up there if she didn’t think you were at least a little interesting.”
“I guess you’re right,” Anton conceded.
“Of course, I am,” Sohee said, grinning. “You wanna get out of here? This party’s a joke anyway.”
“Yeah.” Anton stood up. They descended the stairs. “What about that girl you were talking to, though?”
“Zoe?” Sohee rubbed his nape. “Let’s just talk about you and yours, man.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” Anton said. “You’re always interfering with my love life. It’s only fair I get to hear about yours.”
Sohee groaned. “It’s complicated, dude.”
Anton shrugged. “We’ve got a long walk. I’m all ears.”
The campus courtyard, ANTON POV, 12:01 PM
This time Anton hadn’t meant to pry. He was in the courtyard waiting for Sohee when your voice, lovely as ever, filled his ears. When he looked up he saw you walking between your friends Willow and Krystal, using your hands like they were scales. He caught the tail end of your words. “Ugh. I should just make them duel or something. That’s probably what men did in the Middle Ages. Fight to the death.”
You rolled your eyes. “Okay. Fine. Rock paper scissors, best of three.”
Less than an hour later, you, Shotaro, Sohee and Anton were gathered around a bench. Anton had expected you to sit beside Sohee or Shotaro as you most often did… so it stunned him when you stole Sohee’s spot beside him before he could settle down.
Oh. Okay. That’s not weird, Anton told himself. “Hey,” he said.
“Hi, Anton,” you greeted with a sweet smile. You glanced down at his hands. His knuckles were red. Your brows furrowed. “You okay? What happened to your hands?”
Anton looked at his own hands. Last night he had taken on a group of crooks making trouble downtown, and earned a few scratches for his work, but that was nothing he could mention to you. “No, I’m—I’m good. Just went a little too hard in the gym, I think.”
You seemed to accept his lie. “Oh, okay. You should be more careful.”
A strange feeling blossomed throughout his chest. He smiled. “Yeah. I should. Thanks for being worried.”
“Do you want to come to my place later?”
Everyone’s heads turned. Sohee nearly broke his neck. Shotaro’s coffee cup had been halfway to his lips when he paused. And Anton felt his heart stop. “Your place?” he repeated, blinking. “Tonight?”
“Well, yeah,” you said as if it were no big deal. “Why not? Are you busy?”
“No,” Anton said much too fast. “No. I think I have time, I’m pretty sure. What time should I come over?”
“Is seven okay?”
“Seven. Yeah. I’ll be there.”
You grinned. “Great. Do you like Mexican food? There’s a restaurant down the block from my place. I can order some so it’s ready when you get there.”
“Yeah, I’m not a picky eater,” Anton said.
“Alright. I’ll text you the menu. Just let me know what you want.”
“I’ll pay you back later, then.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Still.”
“Just focus on getting there.”
Anton’s heart fluttered. “Yes, ma’am.”
Your apartment, ANTON POV, 6:58 PM
He was at the door before seven. An entire ten minutes early, in truth, but he’d circled around with a stammering heart until he felt it was appropriate for him to approach. The door swung open a few moments after he rang the doorbell. You stood there with a radiant smile that did nothing to soothe that incessant tremor.
“Anton! Come in. Did you bring me a gift?” You sounded so happy to see him. He wondered if you were this happy with Mason too.
Anton shut the door behind himself and raised the bag in his right hand. “I just brought chips.” He almost hadn’t. He had stood in the middle of the chip aisle in the bodega for a few minutes longer than he should have, going back and forth with himself in his head, afraid that you’d think it was too cheesy; but he could not show up empty-handed, and so he paid for them anyway.
“My favorite chips,” you said, leading him to a wooden table. It was small, but enough for two, and the food was already separated and plated. “That’s very sweet.”
Anton shook his head, silently denying it. He took a glimpse at your apartment and was suddenly grateful that you had let him step into your world. A bookshelf in the living room stood out, tall and brimming with novels, most of which he didn’t recognize. You had an unfolded blanket on the couch and something was playing on the television although it was muted. “You have a nice place.”
“It’s alright,” you said, settling down. “It’s not fancy, but it’s mine.”
It’s fancy because it’s yours, Anton thought, and he was reminded of that night at Shotaro’s party again when you came in wearing a tank top and jeans. “Yeah. It’s yours. And I appreciate you inviting me into your space.” He took his seat in front of you. “I’ve been looking forward to this all day, actually.”
He saw your eyes flicker. “Really?”
“Is that surprising?”
“I’m just surprised you said it out loud,” you told him.
“I’m surprised too,” Anton admitted, chuckling timidly. He briefly avoided your eyes. “But you deserve to know the truth.”
“You deserve to know the truth too,” you said. “I heard you saw me with Mason.”
Anton took a second to find his voice. “I mean, I did. Yeah. But that’s your business.”
You looked thoughtful. “I just feel like we should talk about it. I don’t want you to feel like I’m leading you on or something.”
“I don’t feel that way,” he whispered. “I mean, honestly, I didn’t love seeing you with him, I can admit that. But it’s your life. I do like you, like, a lot, and I’d be happy if this maybe went somewhere, but that’s your choice to make.”
“I don’t think I like Mason that much anyway,” you confessed. “He’s… nice, but I don’t know. My gut keeps telling me there’s something off about him.” Your voice was soft, tender. Anton didn’t feel deserving of it. “I don’t feel that way around you. I feel like what I see is what I get.”
A profound guilt shot through him and made his body twitch. He wished he could tell you the truth, but he knew that it was far too soon to give his secret away. He decided to tell you what little truth he could for now. “Can I tell you something bad?” he asked quietly.
Your eyes were curious. “What’s up?”
“I was eavesdropping. When you were talking to Mason in the hallway. I know that was wrong of me and I’m not gonna defend that choice. I just thought you should know.” He looked down at his food. The confession was a small thing in the grand scheme of his secrets, but no less important. He wished he would have told you sooner.
“Oh.” You scratched your head. “Thanks for telling me.”
“Are you mad at me?” He had to ask.
“Mad? No,” you said. “I mean, that’s a little weird. But not unforgivable. So it’s fine.”
Anton felt embarrassed. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure, Anton.” When you reached for his hand, he thought his life was over. “And what I was trying to say is: I won’t be seeing Mason anymore. I just want to explore what this is with you. So, you don’t need to get all jealous anymore, okay?”
“I wasn’t…” The lie died in his throat, knowing it was hopeless, and he laughed at himself. “Okay. I was a little jealous. Sue me.”
You giggled. “Okay, let’s eat. I wanna see if you still like me after watching me demolish this burrito. I’m not gonna pretend to be ladylike.”
I like that about you, he thought. That you don’t pretend. You’re just unabashedly yourself. “I don’t think you being yourself will make me change my mind about you.”
He felt like an idiot saying that, until he saw how your smile bloomed wide across your face. “Tell me more about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.”
He thought about it as he chewed his food. “I love music. I played cello in high school. I’m alright with piano. I started learning when I was a kid but dropped it. I’m good with bass and guitar too. I like movies, especially sci-fi and romance. Cheesy, I know. I’m fascinated by space. I’m allergic to dogs. I like dinosaurs. I hate crowds, so most parties are hell for me. What about you? You said you like writing? I noticed your bookshelf when I came in.”
You glanced back at it. “I love writing. I think a part of it comes from the fact that a lot of the things I’d love to read don’t exist yet. So I make them myself.”
“I get that,” Anton said. “Sometimes I make my own songs because there’s not one that captures the exact feeling I’m going through. What are you into?”
“I’m mostly a fantasy girl, but I’ll probably read any kind of fiction besides romance. I read nonfiction as well, I think it’s important to stay balanced.”
“What’s wrong with romance?”
“I adore romance as a subplot,” you told him, “but I don’t like when the entire book is about that, you know? Romance is a beautiful, human thing, but it shouldn’t consume everything else. I appreciate books that leave room for every aspect of life.”
Anton nodded slowly. “That makes sense.” He was wondering how he would manage that himself—his feelings for you, and the secret identity that meant one way or another, he would always have to lie to you.
Conversation was an easy thing in your company. Anton talked at length about his family, his favorite movies, the things he wanted to do in the future, the places he wanted to see. What he found was that the two of you had a great deal in common. You even exchanged book recommendations (which delighted Anton, who had been wanting to take advantage of his free time to read more lately).
Within the hour his belly was full and his heart was quiet and at ease. There were a few lingering nerves, but he hardly noticed them at all. He was too focused on you. Everything he learned about you only made him like you more, and he liked it for no reason other than that it was yours.
Then you led him to the couch. It was dim there. Now that the kitchen lights were turned off, only the blue hue of the television kept them from being thrust into sheer blackness. When he settled beside you, you asked, “Can I kiss you?”
For once Anton could believe that he wasn’t dreaming. “You can kiss me as much as you want.”
You took that response seriously. When your lips came down against his, they pulled away only to breathe. At first it was a gentle thing, a way of testing the waters. Very quickly you discovered the water was fine, and from there it was all passion and touching and desire.
Anton was not totally inexperienced—he had kissed women before, and slept with a woman before, and he had thoroughly enjoyed it—but the moment you settled onto his lap all his sense went out the window and he felt like a clueless virgin. What was new was that he had never felt the way he did about you for anyone.
Your lips were like warm feathers against his neck. Anton sucked in a breath when he felt them there. They advanced in a downward climb that made him shudder without the knowing of what you might do next. He was willing to surrender himself to you in all the ways he could to make up for the ways he could not.
While this was happening, you must have decided you wanted to kill him, because soon he felt the grind of your body as you pressed yourself against him. He said your name. “That’s…”
You pulled away only barely. It was still too far. “It’s what? Do you want me to stop?”
“No,” Anton blurted, “no, no. I don’t want you to stop. I just… do you know what you’re doing?”
That amused you. “I’m kissing you and grinding against your dick.”
The vulgarity made him flinch, but he supposed he’d liked that you didn’t mince your words. “Right. Yeah. That was a stupid question.”
“Did you mean do I know what I’m doing to you?” you asked with a teasing smile, and pressed yourself against him again. “I have a pretty good idea.” You reached down to squeeze him through his pants. “I didn’t realize you were the type to get hard from just a little bit of kissing and grinding.”
“It helps that it’s you,” he murmured.
“Do you have a soft spot for me, then?” you asked. “Or a hard one, rather?” You squeezed him again.
Anton groaned. “You already know the answer to that.”
“Okay. I have another question.”
“Yeah?”
“Can I suck your dick?”
Anton felt his brain short-circuit. She’s serious. “Yeah. If you want to. I mean, I guess you want to because you asked, but…”
You pressed your index finger against his lips. “Shhh.”
Anton was not going to defy a beautiful woman sitting on his lap and offering to suck him off. He simply nodded his head.
You maneuvered yourself beside him and tugged at his pants and underwear only enough to free his cock. It came up hard and tall and aching. In his mind Anton was begging for you to touch him, and in reality soon enough if you made him wait any longer. He was not too proud. “Wow,” you said, impressed. “You’re pretty big.”
“You think so?”
“Mmhm.” You reached for him, his tip slick with precum, and spread it along his shaft.
Anton tipped his head back against the sofa and let you have control. In that moment he would have let you do almost anything you liked. He was just grateful you were even touching him at all. When he came here he hadn’t imagined he’d end up on your sofa with his dick in your palm.
Your hand teased him up and down in a tight stroke that only made his need grow fiercer than ever. Anton’s breath was heavy on his own ears, and so was his heart’s thudding. He wondered if you heard him the way he heard himself, but you said nothing of it, thoroughly fixated on his length.
When at last you took the head into your mouth, Anton could no longer think, and it did him little good to try. Holy shit. It had been a while since he had been touched by a hand other than his own, and even longer since he felt a mouth there. Yours was supreme. He knew some of his feelings were partial, but that didn’t matter. You were here, and you were real, and you were sucking him, and his mind was reeling, and…
You took him deeper. “Fuck,” he swore out loud. He watched the descent with his own eyes, but the only thing that kept him from believing he was imagining it was that the warmth of your mouth around him and the press of your tongue against his shaft was not something even his most wild dream could fabricate. More than once he had thought about what it would feel like to have your skin on his, a sweet fantasy of you wanting him, craving him, your body warm and trembling and aching for him, and those images in his head were bronze beside your golden touch.
Anton held your hair away from your face, mostly because it was the very least he could do when you were already giving him such a wonderful gift, and partly because he wanted to see you the best he could. He had always found you beautiful. You were no less beautiful now, and he was fascinated by the way you took him in, the way your soft lips sealed around him, the way you would look into his eyes for longer than he could endure without tearing his gaze away. He knew you liked that; he could feel your amusement in the small tremor of your mouth. He didn’t mind, either. Anton knew he was a mess, but he was a mess for you.
If a month someone would have told him that this would be happening, he would never have believed it. The girls of his dreams who unraveled him with a glance inviting him into her home and sucking his cock without prompting. What a wet fantasy come true. He felt indebted and eager to repay the favor. I will, if she lets me. He would feel guilty if he let you walk away from this without making you feel even a fraction of the delights you were giving him now.
Though it was hard to think about that. Every time his thoughts pushed him astray for a few seconds at most, your tongue pulled him back into nothing but you. You grounded him with your touch, not only the wet feel of your mouth, but the way your hand was braced on his thigh and your cheek grazed him. It was a good thing for him. His mind was not naturally a quiet place. At times this did him more harm than not, and it felt freeing, like swinging across the city but infinitely better.
Anton said your name again. “Please, don’t stop.” He was close to the finish, sooner than he would have liked to be, but he never had grand expectations for himself.
You did not stop. In fact, he felt you suck him even faster, and from there Anton lost his mind. Time didn’t feel real. More than that he stopped being concerned with his concept of it altogether. All he knew was that one second you were surely trying to suck him out of a soul, and the next his hips were alive with a mind of their own and his cum was in your mouth.
What really did it for him was watching you swallow. “You…”
You pulled away, licking your lips. “I…?”
He had no words. I think I’m in love. Or that I’ve died and this is heaven. Maybe both. “Thank you,” he said after a moment. “Let me return the favor,” he added after a little longer. “Please.”
That was how Anton wound up on his knees, settled between your legs. At first he did nothing but stare, mesmerized by how gorgeous you were, wet and slick and soft, but then he felt weird about openly gawking at your vagina and raked his fingers through your folds instead. He saw your lips part silently.
Anton didn’t start hastily. He was gentle as ever, pressing kisses to your cunt and the skin around it. When that was through he began licking, and then sucking, and he observed your body closely. This was something he had to get right.
Here and there you told him what to do, and Anton was more than happy to oblige you if it meant you would be satisfied. In fact he appreciated that you knew exactly what you wanted from him. It left no room for guesswork. “Like that,” you said. You sighed softly.
Now was not the time to ask, but Anton wondered if you had ever imagined him before, if you had ever closed your eyes at night and pictured his hands on your body and how they might fit around you, if you had ever imagined what he looked like beneath his clothes. He was still wrapping his head around the fact that you wanted him at all. And that you had given him a mind-numbing blowjob that led to an orgasm that he could still feel remnants of.
You deserved to feel that good too, he thought. Perhaps even better. By the end of it he wanted to see you shuddering and swearing with all the ecstasy your body could handle at once. He wasn’t sure if that would be enough, even then. He might have had to do it twice. Or three times. He was not opposed…
“You’re doing so good, baby,” you told him breathlessly.
Anton felt his own breath still. “You can’t just call me that.”
“Why? You like it?”
“Too much,” he muttered.
You grinned mischievously. “Don’t stop, baby. I like your mouth so much…”
Fuck. If she keeps this up I’m gonna get hard again. But he tried not to think about himself for now. You had told him not to stop, and he was determined not to until he had made you come on his tongue.
Anton was hungry for it. The more he thought about it the more he wanted it. He wanted to see you surrender to his mouth, he wanted to feel your body yield to him. He wanted to know what effect he could have on you, and if it was anything like the one you had on him. He was a curious person by nature, that had always been true.
Soon he was introducing his fingers. You gasped when he slid them inside you with ease. You were so wet, so ready. For only a few seconds he let himself imagine what it would feel like to fill you with his cock… but only for a few seconds, and then he banished that thought. Anton had been told before that he had big hands and long fingers, and he was intent on making good use of them.
“Feel okay?” he asked as he curled his fingers inside.
Your hips arched into his hand, which was an answer of its own. “Mmhm.”
He pressed the heel of his free hand down just shy of your stomach while his other hand stroked you with his fingers. He could feel you gushing and tightening around his digits, the need burning within you, bringing you closer and closer. Your eyes fluttered shut and you were making the prettiest sounds he had ever heard.
It occurred to him then, with the end drawing near, that he almost didn’t want this to be over. Or he wished he had some way of reliving it again at least. But he let himself be present. He would not get this first moment again, so he could not let it go to waste.
Finally you had taken all you could and your pussy seized his fingers tight when you reached your climax. “Oh, fuck, fuck,” you cursed. His mouth stayed on you through it, and he grabbed your thigh with one hand, and felt it twitching. His eyes never left you as you came for him. He wanted to keep that image there in his mind forever.
When it was done and you were slack and panting, he withdrew his fingers and reached for your cheek. “You okay?” he asked.
Your eyes were fluttering. “I’m marvelous.”
Anton grinned.
“Do you want to be my boyfriend?”
He had to learn to stop being surprised by you. “Already?”
“Should we slow down?” you asked.
Anton considered it. “Probably,” he said, “but if you want me to be your boyfriend, I won’t say no.”
“I want you to be my boyfriend.”
I can’t believe this whole day has been real. Anton’s smile was uncontrollably wide, and it was all for you. “Okay. Then, I’m your boyfriend. And you’re my girlfriend.”
No specific location or time, ANTON POV
After you became his girlfriend, Anton felt that every other problem he’d ever had was of little consequence. That was not to say that he neglected his responsibilities, but he began to approach the world with an optimism that surprised even himself.
His friends noticed it, but they did not question him, mostly because they already knew the cause of it. What they did do was tease the hell out of him. When he came to them with the news, everyone was happy for him and supportive of the new pairing. Sohee in particular was amazed by how hastily Anton had managed to make you his girlfriend (Anton himself seldom believed it), but he had always been confident in him, more than Anton had been in himself.
It was important to him that he was a good boyfriend. You still made his stomach swim painfully, but he was intent on keeping you around so that the likes of Mason Mooney didn’t get their hands on you. He wanted you to be as happy around him as he was around you. Anton took you on dates when he had the time for it, and sometimes when he did not have the time for it he made time. He was more reckless with his money than proper, but he could afford it. Anything to see you smile. What he loved most of all was fostering the connection between you. With every date he learned more about the kind of person you were and he fell even deeper for her.
It was Sohee that told him one day, You’re a goner, man. Every day, every week, every second, it was even more true.
One day he was out patrolling the city when from behind him came a voice he had come to despise. “Hello, Anton.”
He froze. Anton. He had called him Anton, not Spider-Man. Slowly he turned around. “Who are you?”
Mind Man stood there in his purple-and-yellow suit. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” He laughed. “You look afraid. Are you, Anton? Afraid?”
Anton willed himself to remain calm, but there was no way that anyone other than Sohee could have known his identity. He frequently underwent several annoying measures to maintain his anonymity. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said. Maybe Mind Man was bluffing. Maybe he was merely testing him.
Mind Man tilted his head. “But I think you do. You’re Anton Lee. Boston born, New York raised. You have a little brother that you love with your whole heart. You’ve been surrounded by music your whole life. You were a swimmer in high school. You read books about space. You like going to the movies. You have that little girlfriend of yours that you’ve been crushing on for months. Sohee Lee is your best friend and the only person who knows that you’re Spider-Man, other than me, of course. Should I go on?”
Anton felt paralyzed. “What do you want?”
“I’m glad you asked, Anton,” Mind Man said. “I want to understand you. I want to get inside your head. You’re the only person I can’t control. So if I can’t get to you from the inside, I’ll get in from the outside.”
Anton wished he understood what he meant, but it sounded like a threat. “If you touch any of my friends, my family…”
Mind’s Man laughter cut him off. “What will you do if I touch your friends and family, Anton? Web me to a wall?” He stepped closer, as if urging Anton to give it a try. “Who’s to say I already haven’t?”
Anton reached for him, but Mind Man leapt away.
“Not so fast, spider,” taunted Mind Man. “Are you going to hurt an innocent man? What if I haven’t done anything? Would that sit right with your conscience?”
“You’ve done enough,” Anton reminded. “You’ve terrorized this city with your plots.” Mind Man was behind some of the more elaborate crimes Anton had dealt with, or at the very least he was always involved in them. Anton remembered one time someone had set up a false alarm on one side of town while a robbery took place on the opposite end. When he finally got there, some of the damage was catastrophic, and Mind Man delayed him even more. He’d felt a terrible guilt that day for the lives that had been expended, that he had not saved.
“The only terror is you,” Mind Man spat. “What good do you think you’re doing for this city, really? For every crook you catch, there’s ten more like him. You give the people hope, but nothing will ever change. Why make them believe in a reality that will never be true?”
Anton gestured around. “In case you haven’t noticed, the crime rates are down. I can’t stop every single bad guy, sure, but the ones I can, that makes a difference. Don’t act like it doesn’t.”
“But it’s true. There’s a great deal of people interested in Spider-Man, and they’re not all just novice lowlifes.” With that, Mind Man went off into the night.
Anton didn’t follow. He knew it would be useless. But he felt a terrible dread rousing within him, a dread of something without a name. He could not know what was to happen.
For a while he stood there alone, wondering if he truly was enough for this wondrous city, if perhaps all his efforts would one day be in vain, if nothing was certain but that he’d endangered those he loved… No. He’s trying to get into my head. That’s what he does. And while true, Mind Man was never one to be idle. His words were meant to confuse, to stifle, but there was always a hint of truth to them one way or another.
Building up to the party at Tyler’s house, ANTON POV, 9:10 PM
Anton was afraid that the honeymoon phase was already over, but he could not think of any other way to rationalize your behavior.
You were not only quiet but uncharacteristically standoffish. The first time you bailed on a plan last minute, Anton thought nothing of it. Things could come up unexpectedly, he knew that all too well. But then it became a frequent problem. When you did finally show to one of the hangouts, you hardly engaged with the others, mostly on your phone or giving curt responses.
He had sat beside you on Sohee’s couch, trying to get you to speak to him. “Hey.”
You hardly looked at him. “Hey.”
Anton felt his chest tightening. He wracked his brain for something to say. “You got a new bracelet,” he pointed out. “That’s cool. Where’d you get it from?”
You glimpsed at the purple bracelet on your arm. “Krystal,” was all you said.
“Oh, cool.”
It got to the point that Sohee had pulled him aside and asked, “Did you guys get into a fight?”
“No,” Anton had told him, because it was the truth. He hadn’t remembered doing anything wrong either. One day, you were this exuberant person that was always smiling in his company, and now you wanted little to do with him, or anyone for that matter.
Friday night was the final nail in the coffin. When Anton texted you to ask if you were coming, you told him, very bluntly: “no.” He almost didn’t come himself, but Sohee and Shotaro insisted that being alone right now would do him no good.
Which was why he found it strange that the second he made it into the hallway, they immediately came up to him, as if they had been waiting. “Hey, man,” Sohee said, clasping a hand on his shoulder. “You want a drink? Tyler’s got some crazy shit in the kitchen. You got to try it.” He started to steer him towards the kitchen.
Shotaro’s face was tight with thinly veined anger, but he encouraged it. “Yeah, come on. I want to see your face when you drink it.”
Anton knew something was wrong. “What’s going on?” he asked forthrightly. He pried Sohee’s hand away. “You guys would normally already be doing your own thing by now.”
Shotaro and Sohee exchanged glances. Neither of them said a word.
“I’m not going to the kitchen,” he said, and went to the main room.
He almost immediately wished he hadn’t.
There you were, in Mason’s arms, kissing him and smiling like you hadn’t with Anton in seven days. You knew he would be here. You knew Sohee and Shotaro would be here. But you made no attempt to hide it, existing in your own world where it was just you and Mason.
He could have gone over. He was angry enough. He could have lashed out, and he might have even been justified in it, but he let you have that world. If this was your choice, if this was what you wanted all along, then so be it. He just wished you would have said that from the beginning.
“Anton,” Sohee started, coming up beside him.
“You weren’t going to tell me?” Anton asked, finally tearing his eyes away from the sight that was making his heart wrench.
“We were,” Sohee said, “but we didn’t want you to see it.”
They were trying to protect him. Anton could understand that. But he was not sure if he could believe it otherwise. You had been different lately, there was no doubt, but he’d hoped time and space would bring you back to normal. “Well, I saw it,” he said, and turned for the door.
Sohee followed him out. “Anton, wait. Shotaro’s going to talk to her. I don’t know what’s going on. She’s not usually like this. She’s not this kind of person.”
The night felt cooler on his shoulders than it had before he came in only a few minutes ago. “Doesn’t matter what she’s usually like. She did what she did.” His voice was flat. “I’m going home. Or maybe I’ll just patrol instead. The city still needs me, even if she doesn’t.”
“Okay,” Sohee said. He sighed. “Just don’t shut me out.”
Anton nodded. “I’ll call you tomorrow.” Both of them turned and walked opposite directions, Sohee back into the chaos, and Anton wherever his feet led him.
He didn’t go straight home. For a while Anton ambled around aimlessly, his hands in his pockets, his mind racing. It made no sense to him. You had told him that you wanted him, that Mason felt wrong. Then, you turned around and kissed him at a party with dozens of people as witnesses. There was no reason to do that unless you wanted to hurt him, and he had no idea what he could have done to deserve something so needlessly cruel.
It had hurt him. Anton may not have been wearing it on his face beyond some tautness and glowering, but he felt it deep in his chest, a crushing throb that ached without end. He had let himself have hope and dared to be honest about his feelings, and that had taken great strength. To think that it was for nothing, only to be taunted in the middle of some party… he felt like a fool. He should have seen it, but even as he looked back he couldn’t determine what might have prompted the shift, only that a shift did happen, and it did so abruptly.
You had seemed more than content with him. Anton might have let himself wonder if he’d made it up, if he had been seeing your happiness because that was what he wanted to see, but the others had noticed it too. They had teased him ruthlessly and asked if he had perhaps done some sort of sorcery. There was no way none of that hadn’t been real, or at least so he had thought. But everything changed when you became distant, and now you were in another man’s arms, and no one could make sense of it, not even his friends.
Maybe he should have approached you and asked you himself. It would have been one thing if you changed your mind after being with him and decided he wasn’t the right fit. Anton would have been hurt, but not so hurt as he was now. You chose to do it in the most brutal way imagined.
When he did finally make it home, he spent hours trying to sleep, but his mind would not grant him that peace. He sighed and got up to don his suit, and went out the window. There’s always crime to fight.
Even after he caught criminals, Mind Man’s words rang out in his head like a mantra. He sat down on the ledge of a rooftop and started to wonder if he was doing any good for this city. There were many people he had saved, he knew that, but it also seemed that he attracted more danger with the name Spider-Man alone. There were people out there that were willing to jeopardize entire boroughs if it meant getting their hands on him. He glanced down at the raging city beneath him, full of people, of history, of life, of pain, of joy, of opportunity. Maybe they would be better off without him.
“Lose your girlfriend, Anton?”
Anton sighed. As if tonight could get no worse. “Mind Man,” he said coolly, “it looks like you’re keeping tabs on me. I’m flattered.”
Mind Man snickered. “I am curious about you, after all.”
No shit, Anton thought. “Yeah, I’m starting to get that. Do you want to date me instead or something? Because I have to admit, this is getting kind of creepy. You know a lot about me, and I don’t even know your real name.”
“Isn’t that what makes this fun?”
“You know, when most people want to have fun, they play games or hang out with friends or get a hobby.”
“Aren’t we friends by now?”
“Not a chance.”
“That cut me, really,” Mind Man said. “Almost as much as your girlfriend cheating on you must have hurt you. I mean, damn. Didn’t you guys just get together two weeks ago? That’s gotta sting. Did you bore her that bad with your moral righteousness?”
“Cut it out,” Anton warned. “You don’t know her. You don’t know why she did it.”
“I don’t need to know her,” Mind Man insisted. “I just need to know you.”
That was the part that made him anxious. Mind Man knew too much about him. No one could have known about you kissing another man unless they were in the room when it happened. If this guy is someone I know... “Who are you, seriously?” Anton asked.
“The mystery kills you, doesn’t it? Who is Mind Man? What did you do wrong? Why did she do that? Was it something you said?”
Anton stood up. “I asked you a question.”
Ignoring him, Mind Man continued, “When will you face the truth? You’re not as important as you think you are. All it takes is one little accident before Spider-Man goes buh-bye. The world might mourn him, but will they mourn Anton? I know your girlfriend won’t.”
“You won’t get rid of me that easily,” Anton told him. He was pushing the right buttons, but Anton couldn’t give him the satisfaction of a victory.
“Maybe I can’t get rid of you. But I can get rid of her.”
Anton’s hand acted before he even knew it. He grabbed Mind Man by the arm. “That’s your second time threatening people in my life. I’m not going to let it slide a third time.”
Mind Man laughed. “Have a good night, Anton.” He wrested his arm away and vanished.
Anton stood there, picturing you at the party tonight, kissing Mason Mooney. As badly as you had wounded him, there was no part of him that was going to let Mind Man hurt you. Not now. Not ever.
The campus library, ANTON POV, 2:12 PM
Anton was in the middle of perfecting a melody when he heard footsteps stopping in front of him.
Before him stood Krystal, a close friend of yours. After the night of the party, you had stopped hanging with the boys altogether. The only time he saw you was when you were with Krystal and Willow or Mason. None of his texts had gone through when he tried to reach out to you, and the boys had said the same was true for them.
“Hey, Krystal,” Anton said cautiously. “Is there something I can do for you?”
Krystal glanced around. “I need to talk to you about ____.”
Anton was stiff. “What about her?”
“I know you’re upset with her because of what happened at the party, and you should be. What she did was wrong. But it was super unlike her. I think something’s seriously wrong with her. She’s been acting like an entirely different person. When you guys got together, she was telling us how much she liked you and how Mason gave her bad vibes, and now he’s all she talks about.”
Anton’s brows furrowed. “Really?”
“Yes,” she said. “Not that long ago, she was normal. And then she was aloof. And, like, a week before the party, Mason gave her this bracelet and she’s been weird ever since. I asked her when she was going to finish A Feast for Crows. She said she doesn’t read fantasy. Willow got her barbecue chips. She said she prefers salt and vinegar.”
“What?” Anton was flabbergasted. “Wait a minute. A bracelet. You mean the purple bracelet she’s been wearing?”
“Yeah. That one.”
Anton was quiet for a moment. “She told me that you gave that to her.”
She looked bemused. “No? She just showed up wearing it one day and said Mason had given it to her.”
“A week before the party?”
“Yeah. Why?”
Motherfucker. Anton shot up in a hurry. “I gotta go. Thanks for telling me this, you have no idea how helpful that is. Bye!” He gathered his things and scurried out.
How could I have been so blind? Anton thought as he ran through the courtyard. It was all right there in his face the whole time. I want to get inside your head. You’re the only person I can’t control. So if I can’t get to you from the inside, I’ll get in from the outside. That was what Mind Man had told him. At first it made no sense to him. But Mind Man always seemed to know a great deal about his life, and he knew about the party. Which would only make sense if he was there himself.
And he was there, holding you, kissing you where he knew Anton would see. He was Mason Mooney.
Anton went straight to your apartment. He was drenched in sweat by the time he got there, but he had to do something. He couldn’t just sit around knowing what he knew. In your bedroom there was a window you kept open. He slipped in through there and crept inside. You were sitting on the couch, watching some show.
Anton stepped forward and said your name. “It’s me.”
You jolted. “What the fuck?”
Anton held up his hands. “Listen, I know how this looks, but I need you to listen to me. That bracelet Mason gave you, I need you to take it off.”
“Absolutely not,” you said. “I love this bracelet!”
Anton was cautious. “It’s a gorgeous bracelet, I can see why you would love it. But can you take it off for just a minute? Please?”
“Stay away from me! I don’t like you anymore. I like Mason.”
Anton’s felt like there was a rope around his heart. “I know you think that’s how you feel. But it’s not. You told me you wanted to be with me. Remember? You told me you weren’t going to see Mason anymore. This isn’t you.”
“This is who I’ve been all along,” you insisted. “Maybe you’re just not as important as you think you are.”
Those were Mind Man’s words. Anton remembered them, because they hit him as hard then as they did now. He took a step closer. “That’s what he said. Just before telling me that he can’t get rid of me, but he can get rid of you. Is that the kind of man you want? The kind that will use you to hurt me?”
“Don’t touch me, I’ll scream!”
Anton surrendered. “Okay. Okay. I’m not touching you. But if you want me to leave, you just have to answer a simple question: what kind of food did we eat when you first invited me over?”
“That doesn’t matter,” you spat.
“It does matter,” Anton replied flatly. “It matters because she would remember that. But you don’t know that. You don’t know anything about her because you’re not her.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re playing a dangerous game, Anton.”
It sounded like something Mind Man would say. “Mason put the bracelet on you to turn you against me,” Anton said. “He’s using it to control what you think and how you feel.”
You walked to the window and opened it. “Stop!”
Anton stilled. “I just want you to take the bracelet off.”
“I’ll sooner die,” you told him, and climbed onto the ledge of the open window.
His heart stopped. “Okay. Okay. I’m leaving. Please come down from there.” He walked backwards to the door. But I’m not giving up on you that easily.
You came down from the window and closed it, and turned to watch him with expectant eyes.
Anton left, but that choice was not a concession. He just had to figure out another way to get to you.
A rooftop in the city, ANTON POV, 12:17 AM
For once Anton was looking for Mind Man, but the only problem was that Mind Man usually came to him, or he drew Anton out where he wanted him.
Tonight was going to be different. Mind Man was good at what he did because he studied Anton thoroughly. When Anton finished patrolling for the night, he sat around on a rooftop nearby to gather his bearings before he headed home. Mind Man must have known that and used it to find him every so often.
Anton did the same thing tonight, except this time he was waiting for him.
Like clockwork, Mind Man materialized from behind him and said, “You look very morose, Anton. Want to talk about it?”
“I’m not in the mood for talking,” Anton said, getting up to his feet. “Fight me.”
He could imagine Mind Man’s smile behind his mask. “What happened? Did someone kill a puppy? Did the thieves get away before you web them to a bench in Central Park?” Mind Man cracked his neck. “It’s been a while since our last dance.”
They traded elementary blows at first, as if warming up to something larger. Anton flung himself up into the air and landed on his hands and feet to dodge an attack; Mind Mind sidestepped his strikes effortlessly.
When Mind Man grew bored of it, he opted for something a little more advanced. The blow came at Anton as quick as light. He leapt off the rooftop and swung out onto another one.
Mind Man followed suit. “Trying to get away, Anton?” he asked with amusement.
Anton said nothing. Mind Man came at him hard, throwing up his arms in an attack that might have made his mouth bleed had it landed. Anton rolled away and charged. Mind Man sidestepped him. He grabbed a flower pot and threw it at Anton.
The pot struck his foot. Anton swore underneath his breath, but Mind Man gave him no time to recover. He picked up another pot and launched it at Anton’s head.
Anton scrambled out of its trajectory and threw himself onto another rooftop. He had only one goal, and it was not winning a fight. Still he did not want to get too badly injured. As Mind Man was on him he pulled a chair towards himself with a string of web and hurled it at him.
Mind Man grunted. He went after Anton again. The assaults were relentless. With every blow Mind Man got on him, Anton leapt out onto another building, and another, and another… until they were on top of the building adjacent to yours.
“Recognize this place?” Anton asked. “Mason?”
Mason looked around. He removed his mask and threw it down. “We’re outside her apartment. Was that your grand plan tonight? I’m not very impressed.”
“Take the bracelet off her,” Anton said.
Mason didn’t look the least bit bothered that Anton knew. If anything, it amused him more. “Why would I do that? She’s mine now, Anton. Mind and body. Just accept that it’s over.”
“I’ll never let you break me,” Anton told him in a tone that left no room for uncertainty.
There was a glimmer of satisfaction in Mason’s eyes. “You can think that, but I know you. I know exactly how to break you down. I know what squeezes at your heart like nothing else. Would you like to hear what we’ve been up to? How she kisses me every night? How she says she loves me? How she begs me to fuck her?”
Anton was abhorred. “You piece of shit. You’re taking advantage of her.”
“Advantage?” Mason grinned. “I’m just giving her what she needs, because let’s face it: she doesn’t need you.”
“Get the bracelet off her,” Anton told him again.
“Why? Doesn’t it look beautiful on her? Maybe I should add something else to complement it. A necklace, or a ring. What do you think?”
“I think you’re pathetic,” Anton said with a sharpness that surprised himself. “I think that you have some sick obsession with me. I think you have an amazing power, but the only thing you can think to do with it is force someone to do things you know they would never do otherwise. I think you need me to satisfy your ego because you can’t accept that you don’t like the person you are when you’re not wearing that suit. And the fact that I have a life, that I have people who love me with or without mine, feels like a personal affront.”
Mason’s smile fell. “Watch your mouth, spider.”
The sound of a window drawing open distracted Anton long enough for Mason to strike him in the side. Anton stumbled back, grunting in pain.
You poked your head outside the window. “Mason?”
Mason waved at you. “Hey, babe. Miss me?”
Anton leaned over the rooftop and said your name. “Take the bracelet off. Please.”
“I’m never taking it off. This is my favorite bracelet,” you told him, crossing your arms. “How do you even know my name?”
Anton remembered that he was masked. She doesn’t know who I am. Right now, he’s not Anton to you.
Mason laughed. “Do you want to tell her, ‘Spider-Man’, or should I?”
No. She might not listen to me, Mason’s made sure of that. But she might listen to Spider-Man.
“I know things about Mason,” Anton started. “I know what he does to people. He’s been involved in murders, robberies, all those elaborate crimes you see on the news. And that bracelet he gave you, he didn’t give it to you to make you happy. He gave it to you to control your thoughts.”
“What?” Your brows were stitched. “Mason wouldn’t do that. He loves me.”
“Exactly, babe,” Mason agreed. “Don’t listen to this moron. He’s just trying to get in your head. He’s jealous and he can’t stand that you chose me. That bracelet is a gift, a symbol of what we have. You don’t need to take it off for anyone.”
Anton didn’t give up. “Think about it. If it’s just a harmless bracelet, why is he so adamant on you not taking it off? Isn’t that suspicious to you?”
You thought about it. “Mason… are you scared of me taking it off?”
Mason’s confidence was wavering. “Scared? No, baby. That’s ridiculous. I just don’t like seeing you doubt us. He’s putting stuff in your head. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”
Your eyes narrowed. “I’m taking it off for just a second, okay?”
Mason moved to stop you, but before he could even reach the edge of the rooftop, the bracelet was tugged off your wrist. He froze. Anton did too, watching, waiting, his heart racing. Please. Remember…
You stood still, but your eyes changed with a different awareness, and began to water. You looked down at your hands and flexed your fingers. A sigh of relief escaped you. “Oh my god.”
Anton smiled beneath his mask. He could have cried himself.
“No,” Mason said. In a rage, he leapt at your window, grabbed a hold of you, and threw you into the air.
Your scream cut through the night.
Anton moved on nothing but instinct. He dove after you and strung a web around your waist to catch you. When you were secure, he reeled you down onto a fire escape. “You’re okay. You’re okay. I promise.”
You glanced up at him. “Spider-Man?” Your chest was undulating.
“I’ve got you,” Anton whispered, kneeling beside you. “Are you okay?”
Your eyes were wet. “I need… I need to call my boyfriend… and my friends… but this is crazy, they won’t believe me. I was acting so different, but I wasn’t trying to. I couldn’t stop it. It’s like I was possessed or something.”
Anton’s voice was gentle. “They’ll believe you. You didn’t do anything wrong.” He reluctantly lifted his mask. “It’s me.”
Your body went still. “Anton?”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “Mason found out who I was somehow. He targeted you to get to me. I’m so sorry.”
You cried harder. “I didn’t want to do those things. I couldn’t stop it. I’m really sorry, Anton, I didn’t want to hurt you.”
“No. No. Listen to me. What he did is not your fault. That wasn’t you. It was him,” Anton told you. He wiped your eyes.
“I wanted to take it off so badly. Shotaro’s pissed at me. Sohee too.”
Anton reached for your hand and squeezed it. “They were concerned because they recognized that you weren’t acting like yourself. Once they get the full story, they’re going to be pissed at Mason, not you.” He kissed your forehead. “Sohee already knows that I’m Spider-Man. Explaining it to him will be the easiest. We’ll figure out Shotaro. Okay?”
You nodded. “Are you sure you’re not mad at me?”
“I’m not mad at you at all,” Anton said. “If anything, I’m mad at myself. I should have realized it sooner. I knew that you weren’t being yourself. But I spent so long being mad at you that I didn’t connect the dots and now he’s done God knows what to you.”
You reached out to hold him. “What are you going to do about Mason?”
Anton turned around. Mason was gone. He had been so focused on saving you that everything else in the world became secondary. “I know who he is now. He’s not going to get away with it and he’s not going to touch you ever again. I just have to call in a favor.”
“With who?”
Anton grinned. “You have a lot to catch up on. Come on. Let’s get you inside. And then tomorrow, we’ll tell the boys together.”
Sohee’s apartment, NO CHARACTER POV, 1:33 PM
Sohee and Shotaro were gathered on the couch with cups of coffee, their eyes fixed to the television as the news played. “Mind Man, revealed to be twenty-two-year-old NYU student Mason Mooney, has been taken into special custody. Authorities apprehended him last night after allegedly being tipped off by Spider-Man.”
Sohee turned to Shotaro. “Wait. That’s the guy.”
Shotaro was stunned. “What the hell?”
Given the ludicrousness of the situation, Anton had advised waiting until after the news broke out to tell the boys what happened. With that part of it already out in the open, there was no doubt that they would believe you.
Half an hour later, there was a knock at the door. “I’ll get it,” Shotaro said. He went up to the door and glanced through the peephole. You were standing there with Anton. Shotaro opened the door. “Well, this is unexpected.”
“Who is it?” Sohee called out.
“____ and Anton.”
“What? Together?”
Shotaro widened the door. He was wary, but the fact that you were both there meant something had changed since the last time he saw either of you. “Come in. Sohee’s in the living room.”
You and Anton walked into the living room hand in hand.
Sohee noticed your hands instantly. He glanced at Anton, silently communicating his bemusement, but Anton said nothing. Sohee said your name. “Did you decide to stop hating us now that your boyfriend’s in ‘special custody?’”
You rubbed your neck. “About that…”
“Yeah. About that,” Shotaro echoed. He dropped back onto the couch. “Care to explain what the past week and half have been about?”
You looked at Anton.
“It’s okay,” he said, squeezing your hand.
You braced yourself. “Mason came over to my apartment one day. He said he understood I didn’t want to continue seeing him, but he wanted to give me one final gift. A bracelet. I didn’t really want it, but he asked me to at least try it on. So I did. I didn’t think that a bracelet could hurt me. I was very wrong… he used it to control my mind and get into my head. Everything I said and did after that day, that wasn’t stuff I was choosing to do. I didn’t choose to kiss Mason in the middle of the party. I didn’t choose to say those awful things to Shotaro. I didn’t choose to ignore Sohee’s messages. But I was helpless to stop it.”
Whatever bit of anger Shotaro might have felt washed away and suddenly he just felt terrible for you. “What? That’s… insane.”
“But it explains everything,” Sohee continued. “Aw, man. I’m really sorry that happened to you. I knew that shit was weird. You wouldn’t do that kind of thing.”
“So you guys are back together?” Shotaro asked.
“Yes,” Anton said, keeping you close to him. “Now that I know the truth, it’s impossible to be mad at her.”
You nodded. “I’m really sorry about how I treated you guys.”
“You didn’t do that,” Shotaro said. “This changes everything. Mason’s more of a dipshit than I thought.”
“Yeah,” you muttered. “He is.”
Sohee smiled softly. “Well, it’s good to know my gossiping buddy is back to normal. Every time something happened, I kept wanting to text you, but then I remembered you hated us for some reason.”
You gasped. “Wait, what? What happened? Did I miss a lot? Are you dating the Zoe girl now?”
Anton snickered. “See. She’s back.”
“It’s a long story,” Sohee said. He patted the spot beside himself. “Let’s get you up to speed.”
Anton’s apartment, YOUR POV, 9:04 PM
That night, you were laying on Anton’s chest in his bed, playing with his hair. “I’m definitely gonna need therapy, but you know what makes me feel better about this whole situation?”
Anton’s arm was curled around your waist. It made you feel safe in a way you hadn’t since Mason put that bracelet on your wrist. “Yeah. What is it?” he asked softly.
“Spider-Man is handsome beneath the mask,” you said. You ran a hand under his shirt. “And ripped too.”
A laugh broke through him. “Really? That’s what makes you feel better?” His eyes were soft. “What a relief. I mean, I was starting to worry I’d have to keep the mask on forever in case you found me ugly.”
“No, the mask and suit stays on during sex,” you quipped, “but you don’t need it.”
Anton shook his head. “You’re a freak. I should have never told you that I was Spider-Man. You read fanfiction about me.”
“Oh my god, when I was a teenager,” you groaned. “Not better than the real thing, though.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah.” You kissed his nose. “Even though this has been the craziest month of my life by far, I’m really glad I met you.”
Anton was grinning. “I’m really glad I met you too.”
⤷ summary: anton claims his beard grows back so fast and pleads with you to help him because he can never get it ultra-clean himself, but that's just an excuse. simply put, there's no better feeling than being held by your soft hands. it's become the best part of his morning routine because you transform the mundane task of his shaving routine into a quiet, tender declaration of love. you haven't told him yet, but it's your favorite thing too.
⤷ genre: just complete and utter fluff!
⤷ warnings: a obscene amount of petnames (love, angel, baby, toni, etc.), they’re disgustingly in love! very indulgent of me, what can i say hehe
⤷ song rec: always - daniel ceasar, i’ve been listening looping the clip of anton singing this while on live while i write. here’s the link!
a/n: i wrote this because anton keeps commenting that his beard grows the fastest out of all the members and i can’t stop thinking about domestic moments with him. i'm pretty proud of this piece, so please enjoy everyone! as always likes/blogs are always appreciated, please lmk your thoughts <3
“Baby, sit still. Or I’m going to cut your chin, please.”
You tap his shoulder to get him to stop moving and remind him that you refuse to be held responsible if he inadvertently injures himself. He laughs at that, and ends up pretend-sulking at your attempts to tame his clingy self.
It’s half past nine, and you both have plans to hit the farmer’s market and walk around the park before coming back to make breakfast. Really, that means you’re going to catch up on your weeks while you sit on the bar counter and do your daily sudoku puzzle. You’re just supervising Anton to make sure he doesn’t burn down the kitchen while he makes you your usual Sunday brunch of chocolate chip pancakes with berries, crispy, almost borderline burnt bacon and eggs sunny side up, the only way you can stomach them.
Currently, you’re occupied with the task of shaving your boyfriend’s “beard” that you had to squint at to notice this morning. You’re positioned on top the bathroom counter, while your boyfriend stands between your dangling legs, lowering his knees so you’re eye to eye. You tilt his chin toward your line of vision and carefully apply shaving cream around his jaw, admiring his flawless facial structure as you go. His facial hair hasn’t grown that long; you remember the stubble was only lightly poking you when you kissed him goodnight yesterday, but from afar, the hairs are practically invisible. Still, when the first thing you encountered this morning was him rolling onto you and nestling his head into his chest, looking up at you like a kicked puppy and begging you to help him, you couldn’t say no.
Not that you ever have—pride taking front stage ever since he claimed that you always do it better than he does and his face feels infinitely smoother after your touch. You don’t bother to call him out on his bluff, because it’s really too cute. He still acts like you hung the stars every day, despite dating for over 2 years now.
Around the six-month mark of your relationship, Anton shared with you that, growing up, his dad was a goose dad—a music producer who visited sporadically from his work in South Korea to their estate on the outskirts of New Jersey. For a while, it was just his mom and him until his brother came into the picture. In many ways, you figure that’s why he’s so sensitive about his skin and health, in a way that you don’t quite pick up on in other men his age. He never skips a supplement to this day. Throw in the fact that your boyfriend can be a diva sometimes; you’ve come to understand that Anton loves nothing more than being pampered by those he loves. The first night you slept over at his small dorm, you were shocked to come out of the bathroom to your boyfriend sitting with a book in hand, and a collagen face mask adorning his pretty face.
“Are those masks why your skin is always so clear?”
“A proper magician never reveals his secrets… but yeah. It is.”
Ever since then, you’ve picked up on the small ways he takes care of his hygiene and appearance. He claims it’s only gotten worse since he started dating you, transforming from a broke college student with just a little more than the essentials, such as a few masks his mom drops off when she remembers, to having a special shelf in the bathroom cupboard and a section in his fridge for the skincare products you picked out for him. In his head, he refuses to let you walk around with an unkempt partner, denying the opportunity to give anyone a reason to think that you two aren’t the perfect match even if it’s through a superficial lens.
“Sorry, angel. You’re just too pretty. Wanna kiss you so bad,” Anton’s eyes have been hyperfocused on your lips like a hawk ever since he placed you down on the ceramic. His arms circle your waist like a snake tightening its grip on prey, trying to bring you even closer. His lips are unconsciously set in a distracting pout, the bottom one obnoxiously jutting out in hopes that it’s enough to reach yours, and you have to will yourself to focus on the task at hand.
Anton can’t help it when you’re so gentle with handling him. He feels like you’re holding his whole heart in your hands; he’s wrapped in the tightest loop around your pretty fingers. With you around, his usual 7-minute shaving routine turns into an intentional, love-laced 15-minute ritual. You make everything feel special, he thinks. It’s just a bonus that you’re always so cute with your eyebrows furrowed, trying to get even the smallest of his baby chin hairs.
“My baby is so cute. You’re so cute; did you know that?”
“Yes, Toni. You only remind me like 50 times a day.”
“My bad. I’m actually supposed to remind you 51 times.”
“You’re the cutest ever. I’m the luckiest man alive.”
You hum in response, still focused on making sure you don’t prick him when you drag the razor down the side of his chin. His small declarations of love aren’t limited to the morning only, but it’s as if Anton wakes up ready to shower you in affection every day. He’s so incredibly soft, just malleable in your hands when you’re holding him and taking care of him so intentionally like this.
“My favorite place ever. I love sharing this life with you. I want every morning to be like this.”
“Okay, don’t get ahead of yourself now.” You laugh at his antics, partially to hide the fact that your cheeks are getting redder by the minute, the heat also transferring to the tips of your ears.
You finish the last swipe with the razor, run the soft towel you laid out under hot water, and gently dab at his face to get the remaining cream off.
“There, baby. All done.”
“Give me a kiss.”
“Aren’t you going to admire my work first? The mirror’s right behind me.”
Anton makes a show out of quickly shifting his gaze off of you to look in the mirror, head turning side to side as he praises your hard work. His face breaks out into a smile, all while he brings his hand up to touch where the stubble was previously, relishing the buttery softness of it all, and he redirects his attention back to you.
“Perfect as always. My baby’s the best. Now, does she accept tips in the form of kisses or no?”
You can’t hold back the laugh this time. He’s so ridiculous, but he’s all yours. Unable to keep torturing yourself and him like this, you lean in quickly and peck his lips once. Then twice. Then a third time. Just as you tip your head back and decide it’s time to get off the counter, Anton closes the distance between you two to kiss you a few more times until he feels that it’s satisfactory enough.
“Thank you, angel,” he hums in his little happy tone as he expresses his appreciation for you, gleeful and lovestruck as ever.
“Of course, Toni.”
Your mind circles back to the passing comment he made earlier and your face immediately burns up.
“...I want every morning to be like this.”
You’ve thought about it too. You’ve had this reoccurring thought that gnaws away at you: being with Anton feels too easy. It’s too easy to settle into his routine, your life opening up to make space for him just as he’s shown you time and time again that you’re his priority through it all. It’s too easy to imagine yourself moving in together, coming home to him after a long day, celebrating his first job promotion. The apologetic cuddles that will unfold after you disagree and clash over which kitchenware belongs in which drawer. Anyone else would die to be this in love and be in your shoes, but you can’t deny that the thought annoyingly gives you a sense of tense anxiety. How is it this easy? How does he make it so easy?
You certainly didn’t have the worst dating history or hall of fame of bad exes, but that doesn’t mean you pictured a foreseeable future with any of them. Anton is different; he’s always felt too easy to be around from the start, even when you were just friends getting to know each other. You didn’t want to get too comfortable, especially in the beginning, because it scared you to think about how much you could grow to love him and the pieces you’d have to pick up if things ever went South. So you put up walls for a while, but Anton worked at it every day, tearing them down with the gentle understanding with which he held you, as if he never had a doubt that you were the right one for him.
You felt lovesick for the first few months and attributed it to the quintessential honeymoon phase that every couple is subjected to, but you think you’ve known it for a while. That being here with him like this could be forever for you too. He quells your nervous system in a way that used to feel foreign, but now it puts you at ease knowing you belong to someone so wholly. Anton never feels shy about expressing his love for you, his body wired to tell when you’re too in your head. He senses when you’re being too critical of your performance at work or stressed with the pressure of living up to the expectations your parents set for you, and pulls you right out of the hole before you get the chance bury yourself to the chin up.
You think it’s a forever kind of love when he goes out of his way to cook you dinner (despite not having a single culinary bone in his body) when you’ve been eating out too much due to a hectic schedule and tracks your cycle on his phone so that he can surprise you with chocolates, flowers, and all of the things you know you begin to crave. One look from him at you, and he can pinpoint exactly what’s wrong and how to pacify the situation. He always jokes that you came with an instructional manual because he can read you so well.
For a long time, you’ve prided yourself on being hyperindependent, always handling things so well on your own, but you were deluding yourself. Time on this planet is better spent with someone else, and Anton is living proof of that. It once terrified you to depend on him, because you weren’t sure if an Anton-sized hole in your heart was survivable. But you’d hate to think being with Anton is scary, because he’s spent every day showing up to prove to you that this is forever for him too.
You feel immense love for him in the most mundane moments. For example, you find it grossly endearing how he’ll indulge you and share his face masks with you at night everytime you sleep over. The first night it happened, you fell asleep first before him, the exhaustion of the day pulling you into slumber. He admired you for a bit, so shy and in disbelief that you were all his. He lightly tucked the hairs that escaped to frame your face behind your ear, then readjusted himself so he could peel the sheet off your face and toss it into the trashcan he always keeps near his bed before slotting himself in next to you.
This indulgence has only grown in amplitude. Now, it’s become customary for you to accompany him to the bathroom, standing side by side, playfully bumping into each other as you wash and prep your skin for bed. Sometimes, when your routine goes over and he finishes first, he’ll stand idly by watching you. His eyes drill holes into your cheek, admiring the way that blush creeps up, obsessed with the physical effect he has on you, and softly inquire about each step of your routine. And now it’s the mornings that you spend cornered in his arms, pampering your lover so he knows you love him in the same way he does.
“Mmm, babygirl. You there?” You realize you disappeared in front of him.
You yelp as he physically nudges you back out of your thoughts as he circles his arms around your waist, gripping you to lift you off the counter and place you down on the floor.
“Sorry, Toni. Just thinking about what you said. About us spending more mornings like this.”
He tucks you into his side, holding you for a little longer, chin resting on the top of your head. He’s always so warm.
“Ohhhh, that. Yeah. Of course, I picture you in my forever,” he says it fully and unapologetically.
It comes out in a way that makes you feel silly for even doubting that forever was ever up in the air with him. You think there’s nothing left for you to do but melt down into a puddle of ultra-saccharine love.
When you don’t respond, he continues.
“That’s why I was thinking… After our leases end in May, we can do some apartment searching. Find a cute spot in downtown that works with our budget. Of course, we’ll make sure to get one with an office for you so you can work from home whenever you want,” His words drift off too, and he seems lost in thought, as if he’s already planning the layout of the apartment and where he'll place his bulky instrument collection.
He looks back up at you, suddenly feeling shy and too conscious of your silence, but the smile on your face tells him everything he needs to know.
“I’d love to, baby. I see you in my forever too.” It feels so good to say it to him. You could say it forever.
His words find solace in your skin, warming you from head to toe. That’s why it’s beyond easy to make time for him and do this for him. Shaving his face, putting on face masks together, taking care of each other like your bodies were put on this earth to do it for each other, like it was written in your genetic code. Like it’s second nature.
You want the promises, and you want the moments in bed spent looking for recipes on TikTok the night before, going grocery shopping the next day, and cooking at each other’s places, navigating life as freshly graduated young adults—you decide you want all of it. You want him. You’re so at peace with him right here.
Everything else will come later, you decide.
A thought pops into your head.
“Hey, if we move in together, I’m going to start accepting cash payments instead of kisses. Zelle, Venmo, or Cash App works, baby. You already know my handles.”
you had stopped letting yourself get excited. after months of trying you’d learned not to read too much into every little change. every time your period was late you’d both become hopeful only for that hope to disappear a few days later. eventually you and shotaro had gotten used to the disappointment even though neither of you ever said it out loud. you still wanted a baby more than anything but you had started protecting your heart by expecting another negative before you ever saw the test.
this time though, something felt different. you had been feeling unusually tired for the past week and when you realized you were late, you didn’t immediately tell shotaro. instead you bought a test on your way home and tucked it into your bag, carrying it around for the rest of the afternoon while trying not to think about it. when shotaro came home he immediately noticed how quiet you were and asked if something was wrong. you hesitated before finally telling him, “i’m late again,” and the way his expression changed told you that he was trying just as hard as you were not to get your hopes up.
he didn’t celebrate or immediately assume anything. instead he quietly walked over and took your hand giving it a gentle squeeze before asking, “do you want to take the test together?” you nodded and the two of you went into the bathroom with the test sitting between you on the counter. shotaro kept glancing at it and then looking away almost like staring at it would somehow change the result. when the time was finally up neither of you moved for a few seconds, and then you reached for it with shaking hands.
you looked first.
for a moment you didn’t understand what you were seeing then your eyes widened. shotaro noticed immediately and stepped closer his voice suddenly nervous as he asked, “what is it?” you couldn’t answer at first because your eyes had already started filling with tears. you turned the test toward him and the second he saw the result he froze completely. “is that ..." he started, staring at it before looking at you and you nodded through your tears. “yeah,” you whispered, finally letting yourself smile. “it’s positive.”
shotaro’s face crumpled almost instantly and he covered his mouth with one hand as tears filled his eyes. he looked at you like he couldn’t quite believe it even after seeing the test himself. “really?” he asked, his voice shaking, and you laughed softly through your own tears as you nodded again. “really.” he pulled you into a careful hug, holding you tightly while you both cried against each other. months of disappointment and hope finally gave way to something neither of you had been sure you’d ever get to experience.
he kept laughing quietly between tears, shaking his head as he whispered, “we’re actually going to have a baby.” you wrapped your arms around him and held him even tighter, finally allowing yourself to feel every bit of happiness you’d been trying to keep contained. “we’re having a baby,” you repeated and hearing yourself say it made the reality hit even harder. shotaro pulled back just enough to look at you, gently wiping the tears from your cheeks before smiling so widely that you couldn’t help laughing.
for the rest of the evening neither of you could stop looking at the test. it sat safely on the bathroom counter while you and shotaro sat together on the couch, your fingers intertwined between you. every few minutes one of you would look at the other and smile for no reason, only to start laughing when you realized you were both doing the exact same thing. at one point shotaro rested his head against your shoulder and quietly admitted, “i don’t think i’ve ever been this happy before,” and you leaned your head against his as you answered, “me neither.”
sungchan
sungchan is standing in the kitchen making himself a sandwich when he hears your footsteps. he glances up with a smile, completely unaware that his life is about to change forever. “hey, baby,” he says as he sets the jar of mayonnaise down. “i was gonna ask if you wanted-" before he can finish you slam the pregnancy test onto the counter hard enough to make him jump. he stares at it for a second before cautiously asking, “what’s that?” you don’t even blink as you deadpan, “what the fuck do you think it is?”
he looks between you and the test before carefully picking it up. he studies it for several long seconds, then looks back at you, then back at the test again as if it’s somehow going to change. “is this …” he begins but you immediately cut him off. “don’t act confused sungchan.” he swallows before cautiously finishing, “… positive?” you fold your arms across your chest and raise an eyebrow. “well does it look negative to you?” he blinks once then twice. after another few seconds, the only thing he manages to say is, “wow.”
you narrow your eyes so quickly it almost makes him take a step back. “wow? you get me pregnant and all you have to say is wow?” you say in disbelief. he immediately looks up from the test and shakes his head. “that’s not all i have to say.” you point a finger at him. “it better not be.” he carefully sets the test back onto the counter before looking at you again, his voice noticeably softer this time. “are you okay?” the question earns him the most offended laugh he’s ever heard. “do i look okay jeong sungchan? do i sound okay?" you ask, throwing both hands into the air. he glances at you for a second before honestly answering, “no.” you nod once, "at least you're not stupid.”
you point directly at him, “this is your fault.” he instinctively opens his mouth to defend himself before thinking better of it. unfortunately he still can’t help quietly mumbling, “i don’t think that's how it works.” you immediately take one slow step toward him and he matches it by taking one equally slow step backward, "don’t,” he says carefully. “i’m just saying-" you cut him off before he can finish. “sungchan.” he sighs and nods. “right.” you take another step, he takes another step back, “i swear to god if you start getting smart and explaining sex to me right now ...” he immediately lifts both hands in surrender. “i wasn’t going to.” you stare at him. “you were thinking about it.” after a brief pause he sheepishly admits, “maybe a little.”
you groan so loudly he wouldn’t be surprised if the neighbors heard it through the walls. “we weren’t supposed to have kids yet,” you complain as you begin pacing the kitchen. “i know,” he answers quietly. “we had a plan.” he nods again. “i know.” you throw your hands up for what feels like the hundredth time. “we literally talked about waiting last night." he gives you another helpless nod. “i know.” you stop pacing just long enough to glare at him. “then why are you standing there looking so calm?” he glances down at himself before answering a little too honestly. “because panicking won’t make you less pregnant?” the second the words leave his mouth his face falls. “i’m gonna stop talking,” he mutters. you nod immediately, “good idea.”
you resume pacing while he watches from what he considers a safe distance. every few seconds you look over at him before continuing another lap around the kitchen, muttering under your breath about timing, hormones, and how you were supposed to go on vacation before becoming somebody’s mother. after nearly a full minute you stop in front of him again and point another accusing finger in his direction. “i hope you’re happy.”
he tilts his head slightly, clearly trying to figure out whether that’s a trap. “is this a trick question?,” he says carefully. “it is,” you answer without hesitation. he nods once before correcting himself, "then i’m not?” you narrow your eyes suspiciously, "you’re lying.” he sighs through his nose before reluctantly admitting, “a little.” you immediately throw your hands into the air. “i knew it!” he quickly shakes his head. “not because i wanted this to happen now,” he explains, gesturing between the two of you. “i’m happy because it’s you.” your expression doesn’t soften even a little. “you’re still on thin ice,” you inform him. “i know,” he replies. “paper-thin.” he nods again. “i know.”
you glance down at your stomach before looking back at him with complete seriousness, “you’re carrying the baby next time.” he stares at you for a second before the words register in his brain, “there’s a next time?” he asks before he can stop himself. both of you freeze. the kitchen goes completely silent. you lift your head to look at him, “get out.”
his eyes widen instantly. “baby-" he starts, but you point toward the front door before he can finish. “get out of my kitchen.” he blinks. “i live here.” you don’t even hesitate. “not for the next five minutes, you don’t.” despite every instinct telling him not to, a tiny laugh slips out. he immediately covers his mouth but it’s already too late. you look at him in complete disbelief. “don’t laugh!” you scold. he quickly shakes his head. “i’m not.” you narrow your eyes. “you’re smiling.” he bites the inside of his cheek, doing everything he can to keep a straight face. “i’m trying really hard not to.”
you grab the nearest dish towel and throw it at him. he catches it effortlessly which somehow only irritates you more. “you’re unbelievable,” you grumble. he drapes the towel over his shoulder before slowly walking back toward you like he’s approaching a startled animal. “are you still mad?” he asks cautiously. you don’t even need a second to think about it, "insanely.” he nods once. “okay.” you cross your arms tighter. “i’m serious.” he smiles just a little before answering, “i know.” after a moment of silence you sigh dramatically and mumble, “i love you.” the relief on his face is immediate as he smiles properly this time, "i love you too,” he replies before you quickly add, “but i’m still blaming you for this.”
he slips his arms carefully around your waist, giving you plenty of time to shove him away if you want to. when you don’t he smiles against the top of your head before quietly admitting, “that’s fair.” you let him hug you for exactly three seconds before muttering into his shoulder, “i’m still gonna beat your ass later.” he laughs quietly, kisses the top of your head, and gently rubs your back.
seunghan
the pregnancy test sat on the edge of the bathroom sink between the two of you. neither of you had looked at it. the timer on seunghan’s phone had gone off almost a minute ago but both of you were pretending not to notice. he was sitting on the closed toilet lid with his elbows resting on his knees. his hands were clasped together so tightly his knuckles had gone pale. you were standing by the sink, arms folded across your chest, staring very intently at the crack in the tile.
“you look,” seunghan said quietly after another few seconds of silence. his eyes never left the bathroom floor. you looked over at him. “why me?” “because" he paused, searching for an answer before giving up with a small shrug. “i’m scared.” you smiled a little despite yourself. “me too.”
another silence settled over the bathroom.
seunghan finally let out a long breath before slowly standing up. “okay,” he murmured, sounding like he was trying to convince himself more than you. “we’ll look together.” he stepped over until he was standing beside you. you nodded once. “together,” you agreed, reaching for his hand without taking your eyes off the counter. his fingers immediately intertwined with yours “ready?” he asked, though the uncertainty in his voice made it obvious he wasn’t. “not really,” you admitted with a quiet laugh. “but i don’t think i’m going to be any readier in five minutes.” he smiled nervously at that before both of you finally looked down.
two pink lines.
neither of you said anything.
“that’s …” he started before stopping completely. he blinked once then looked again as though the result might change. “it's positive.” you couldn’t stop the smile that spread across your face. “yeah,” you whispered. “it is.” your eyes immediately filled with tears, though they weren’t from fear. seunghan noticed almost instantly and his head snapped toward you. “why are you crying?” he asked, panic slipping into his voice. “are you okay?” his free hand immediately came up to cup your face, his brows knitting together.
you laughed through the tears. “i’m happy,” you said, shaking your head. “i’m crying because i’m happy.” you wiped at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweatshirt but the smile on your face never disappeared. he searched your face carefully. “happy?” he repeated quietly, like he wanted to make sure he’d heard you correctly. you nodded without hesitation, "really happy.” your grip on his hand tightened, "we’re having a baby.” his eyes softened for a second before worry settled over them again. “are you sure you’re happy?” he asked carefully. “because if you’re scared, or overwhelmed, or if this isn’t what you wanted …” he trailed off, unable to finish the thought.
you stepped closer until you were standing right in front of him. “seunghan,” you said softly, looking up at him. “this is exactly what i want.” the certainty in your voice made his shoulders loosen just a little. he let out a shaky breath. “i’m terrified,” he admitted with a small nervous laugh. “i’ve never been responsible for a baby before." “me neither,” you teased. “what if i’m bad at it?” he asked, the question escaping before he could stop it. “what if i don’t know what i’m doing?” you reached up and rested both hands against his cheeks. “you’re going to spend nine months reading every parenting book you can find,” you said with a smile. “you’re going to watch videos, ask questions, and overthink everything.”
he finally smiled. it was small and hesitant but it was there. “okay,” he whispered glancing back at the pregnancy test one more time. “i’m still scared.” he looked back at you, his eyes noticeably softer now. “but if you’re smiling like that" he reached down almost absentmindedly, resting his free hand over yours where it had settled against your stomach, “i think i can be excited too.”
wonbin
the pregnancy test had been sitting in the bottom drawer of your bathroom vanity since you’d bought it. even after seeing the positive result that morning you had spent the entire day carrying the knowledge around by yourself. you’d sat through a three hour graduate seminar taking notes you knew you wouldn’t remember later, nodded along during a discussion about research ethics, and even met with your advisor to talk about your plans after finishing your master’s program. she’d smiled while telling you how excited she was to see where your career would take you and all you’d been able to think was that every plan the two of you had spent months making had shifted before either of you realized it. every few minutes your hand would unconsciously drift toward your stomach before you caught yourself and quickly stopped.
wonbin noticed almost immediately that something was wrong. he’d asked if you were feeling sick when you pushed your dinner around your plate instead of eating it. he’d asked again when you barely laughed at one of his stories on the drive back to your apartment. by the time the two of you were sitting on your couch with the television playing quietly in the background he had stopped pretending not to worry. he turned toward you and reached over to lace your fingers together, gently rubbing his thumb across your knuckles before asking, “baby, what’s going on?” his voice stayed calm but you could hear the concern underneath it.
you looked down at your intertwined hands instead of at him. you opened your mouth twice before any words actually came out. “i need to tell you something,” you finally admitted quietly and the seriousness in your voice made his expression change immediately. he straightened where he was sitting, giving you his full attention. after taking one long breath that still didn’t feel big enough, you went into the bathroom and came back with the test. you carefully placed it on the coffee table between the two of you.
wonbin stared at it for several long seconds without reaching for it. he didn’t say anything. his eyes stayed fixed on the two pink lines before they slowly lifted back to your face. you were quiet when you spoke again, “i took two. they both said the same thing.” the room became still. outside you could hear a car driving past the apartment building and someone laughing somewhere in the parking lot below. the television continued playing a show neither of you had been watching, filling the silence with meaningless background noise. wonbin looked back down at the test again before resting both elbows on his knees. he stayed like that for a while, his hands clasped together as he stared at the coffee table. you watched him carefully, terrified.
after what felt like forever you swallowed hard before whispering, “say something.” wonbin immediately looked over at you, his expression softening as he took in the tears gathering in your eyes. “i’m trying,” he admitted honestly. “i just. i don’t want the first thing i say to be the wrong thing.” your composure finally cracked. “i’ve been scared to tell you all day,” you confessed, your voice trembling. “i kept thinking about every possible way this conversation could go.” wonbin frowned almost immediately before quietly asking, “you thought i was going to leave?” you shrugged helplessly as tears finally slipped free, "i didn’t know what to think.”
he moved without another word. one second there was space between you and the next his arms were wrapped tightly around you as he pulled you against his chest. you buried your face into his shoulder almost immediately and he held you there as though letting go wasn’t even an option. after a long moment he rested his cheek against the top of your head before quietly saying, “i’m not going anywhere.” the words broke something inside you. you cried harder, clutching the front of his sweatshirt while hours of imagined conversations and worst case scenarios dissolved all at once. wonbin didn’t rush you or try to stop the tears. he simply stayed there, one hand rubbing slow circles across your back until your breathing finally evened out.
when you finally pulled back enough to look at him, you wiped at your face before quietly saying, “i’m still in school.” he nodded, “i know.” your voice grew quieter with every word. “i still have another year before i finish my master’s.” he didn’t interrupt you. he simply listened. “i had everything planned,” you admitted. “i was supposed to finish school, start working, and then we were supposed to get married and then we were supposed to figure the rest out.” your eyes filled again as you looked back at him. “this wasn’t the plan.” wonbin smiled sadly before answering, “no. it wasn’t.”
another silence settled between the two of you but this one felt different. it wasn’t filled with fear anymore. it was filled with the weight of everything that had suddenly changed. after staring at the pregnancy test for another long moment, you quietly asked, “are you disappointed?” wonbin looked at you so quickly it almost hurt. “at the test or in you?” he asked softly. when you didn't answer he reached up and gently brushed away the tears still clinging to your cheeks before shaking his head. “never.” his answer came so easily that you knew he hadn’t even needed to think about it.
he let out a slow breath before continuing. “i’m scared,” he admitted honestly. “i’m scared because i don’t know what we’re doing. i’m scared because this happened sooner than either of us expected. i’m scared because we’re going to have to tell our families and i have no idea how any of those conversations are going to go.” his fingers tightened around yours just slightly before he added, “but i’m not disappointed. not in you. not in us.” you let out a shaky breath before quietly admitting, “i keep thinking everyone is going to look at me and see the girl who got pregnant before she even finished school.” wonbin immediately shook his head. “when i look at you,” he said softly, “i see the woman i love. i see someone who’s worked harder than anyone i know to get where she is. a baby doesn’t erase any of that.”
you looked down at the pregnancy test still resting on the coffee table. it was hard to believe something that fit into the palm of your hand had managed to change every plan you’d ever made. without really thinking about it your hand drifted down to rest lightly against your stomach. wonbin noticed immediately. his eyes followed the movement before slowly returning to yours. “there’s really a baby,” he whispered, almost like he was reminding himself. you nodded once before quietly answering, “yeah.”
sohee
you’d been acting strange all morning. you were almost giddy since the moment you woke up. sohee noticed it the second you came out of the bathroom smiling to yourself. you’d barely said a word, just tucked something behind your back before asking, “can you come here for a second?” he frowned immediately, searching your face for any sign that something was wrong. “what happened?”
instead of answering you held out a pregnancy test with the brightest smile he’d ever seen on your face. for a second he just stared. then he looked back at you. then back at the test. “really?” he asked quietly. you nodded with a huge smile on your face, “really.” he expected tears and shock. he expected you to stand there frozen while the reality settled in. instead you let out the happiest laugh he’d ever heard. “sohee,” you said, almost out of breath from smiling so much, “we’re having a baby.” before he could even react you’d already thrown your arms around his neck, laughing into his shoulder as if you couldn’t keep the excitement inside anymore. “we’re gonna have a baby,” you repeated, your voice overflowing with joy.
he wrapped his arms around you automatically, still trying to process everything. “you’re happy?” he asked, almost cautiously. you pulled back just enough to stare at him like the question itself surprised you. “happy?” you laughed again. “sohee i’m ecstatic.” another laugh escaped you before you covered your mouth, shaking your head. “i’ve wanted this since i was a little girl. and it's even better i'm with the love of my life.” he blinked while you looked down at the test again with a smile that somehow grew even bigger. “i know people always talk about being scared when they find out,” you said, your eyes already watering from how overwhelmed you were, “but i’ve never been happier.” your entire face was glowing. your eyes sparkled every time you looked back at him.
sohee couldn’t stop looking at you. he’d imagined this moment more times than he could count. he’d imagined tears, silence, and long conversations about whether the two of you were ready. he’d imagined holding your hand and telling you everything would be okay. he’d never imagined standing in front of someone who looked this undeniably happy.
you grabbed both of his hands, practically bouncing where you stood. “we get to be parents,” you said, squeezing his fingers. he found himself smiling without even realizing it. “we do.” you laughed again. “we get to decorate a nursery.” he nodded. “yeah.” “we get to argue over baby names.” he laughed softly. then your smile softened into something quieter as you whispered, “we get to meet our baby.”
that made both of you fall silent. almost instinctively your free hand rested over your stomach even though nothing had changed yet. “our baby’s in there,” you whispered, looking down with so much wonder that sohee felt his chest tighten. he followed your gaze before carefully placing his hand over yours. neither of you said anything for a long moment. there wasn’t anything to say. when you finally looked back up at him you were wearing that same radiant smile that hadn’t left your face since he’d walked into the room. “this is the best day of my life,” you admitted. sohee reached up to brush a piece of hair behind your ear before smiling back at you, “mine too.”
anton
you had always been loud and confident. anton would happily argue that you had never once learned the concept of an indoor voice. you laughed loudly, talked with your hands, filled every room you walked into without even trying, and somehow managed to make complete strangers your friend within five minutes. you had opinions about everything, stories for every conversation, and enough confidence for the both of you.
anton had seen you stressed, angry, frustrated, and even crying a handful of times throughout your relationship but he had never seen you genuinely scared. that was why when you walked out of the bathroom clutching a pregnancy test with both hands he knew something was wrong before he even looked at what you were holding. he had been sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone while waiting for you to finish getting ready but the second he looked up his stomach dropped. you looked pale, your shoulders were stiff, and you were staring at the little stick in your hands. setting his phone aside, he frowned and quietly asked, “baby what happened?”
you didn’t answer him. instead you simply walked over and held the test out with trembling hands. anton’s eyes dropped to it and his breath caught when he saw the two unmistakable lines staring back at him. after what felt like forever he finally managed to ask, “are you serious?” you nodded once before answering in a voice so quiet he almost didn’t recognize it as yours. “i took three,” you admitted, swallowing hard before adding, “they all said the same thing.”
he stood slowly still trying to process what he was seeing. the two of you had talked about children before. you both wanted them someday. someday wasn’t supposed to be now. he looked back at you, expecting the nervous laugh you always let out whenever life became overwhelming or the sarcastic joke you usually made to break the tension but neither came. you simply stood there in complete silence, your eyes glossy and your breathing uneven. taking a cautious step toward you, anton spoke gently. “baby talk to me.” you shook your head almost immediately before whispering, “i can’t.” your voice broke so badly that you repeated yourself a second later barely above a whisper. “i can’t.”
that was the moment every ounce of excitement disappeared from his chest because for the first time since he had known you you looked terrified. lowering your eyes back to the pregnancy test, you whispered so quietly it almost hurt him to hear, “i don’t know how to do this.” something inside anton tightened painfully. you had always been the person everyone else leaned on. you were the one who made plans, figured things out, and somehow found solutions whenever everyone else had given up. seeing you look so completely lost made something inside him panic.
he gently took the pregnancy test from your hands before setting it on the coffee table. when he looked back at you, you still refused to meet his eyes. “hey,” he said softly before taking another small step closer. “look at me.” after a long moment your eyes slowly lifted to his, already filled with tears. you drew in a shaky breath before finally admitting, “i’m scared anton.” hearing those words out loud made everything feel real in a way nothing else had. another tear rolled down your cheek as you quietly asked, “what if i’m a bad mom? what if i mess everything up? what if something happens? what if i can’t do this?” you wiped at your face almost angrily before letting out a helpless laugh through your tears. “i don’t even know why i’m crying right now.”
anton swallowed hard before answering as honestly as he could. “you’re overwhelmed and that's okay,” he said gently but you immediately shook your head. “i’m terrified,” you corrected and there wasn’t a trace of exaggeration in your voice. the truth was so was he. not because he was becoming a dad but because he had never seen you look so frightened before. you had always seemed so certain about everything that sometimes he forgot you were capable of being afraid too. underneath all your confidence and loud opinions was still someone who could feel overwhelmed and someone who still needed somebody to tell her everything was going to be okay.
the problem was that he wasn’t completely sure it would be. he was scared too. he had absolutely no idea what he was doing but the second he saw your bottom lip begin to tremble again, none of that mattered anymore. he stepped forward without another thought and wrapped both arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. the moment he did every ounce of composure you had been holding onto disappeared. you buried your face against his shoulder and cried harder than he had ever seen you cry, your hands clutching desperately at the back of his shirt as though letting go would somehow make everything worse.
anton closed his eyes, his own heart pounding so hard he could feel it in his throat. he was terrified, more terrified than he wanted to admit, but if the two of you fell apart at the same time neither of you would have anything left to hold onto. so instead he held onto you. he rested one hand against the back of your head before quietly kissing your hair and saying, “i don’t know how to do this either.” you slowly looked up at him through your tears before asking, "you don’t?” he gave the smallest shake of his head and admitted with a sad little smile, “not even a little.” a watery laugh escaped you despite everything and anton smiled softly before continuing. “i’m terrified too,” he confessed. you stared at him for a long moment before he reached up to brush a tear from your cheek. “but,” he said quietly after a brief pause, “i know one thing.” you sniffled before asking, “what?” “i know i don’t have to figure it out by myself.”
your face crumpled all over again. anton rested his forehead gently against yours before speaking so quietly it was almost a whisper. “we’ll be scared together,” he promised. after another pause, he smiled softly and added, “we’ll make mistakes together.” another tear slipped down your cheek as he finished, “and we’ll learn together.” for the first time since you had walked out of that bathroom your breathing finally began to slow. you wrapped your arms around him once more and buried your face against his shoulder before whispering, “okay.” anton held you a little tighter. he still had absolutely no idea what the future looked like or how either of you would ever be ready for it but as he stood there holding the loudest woman he had ever known while she cried quietly against his chest, he made himself one silent promise. no matter how scared either of you became, neither of you would ever have to be scared alone.
content warning : literally mild as fuck. Alcohol & party scenes, crude language/slang, kind of a suggestive humor, mild teasing/bullying, satirical portrayal of college/frat culture. No explicit content — all humor/fluff only.
note: this is genuinely not proof read omg I'm actually so mad, the whole situation with bp and then I tried to make a banner for this and it flopped so bad so I had to resort to the blandest styles of icons and then I obviously got lazy at the end with anton and sohee's part </3.
OSAKI SHOTARO — The Dedicated President
The frat president <3. He is pretty earnest when it comes to the legacy of the frat. He enjoys doing activities that the other guys find to be boring such as; volunteering, fundraising and networking. He loves him some professional dancing — and he even dreams about opening his own dance studio one day, which is why he tries his best to earn money on his own instead of just using his parents money. His mom comes to visit every two weeks or so to bring fresh laundered clothes, catch up with him and what not — literally shows up like he’s 8 years old and forgot his lunchbox. All of his extra-curriculars will look great on a law school application. He is genuinely dedicated to being a good frat prez. He brought his car to school this year just so he can drive home his plethora of bedpost notches because that’s just the kind of guy he is. But when it comes to you? Good lord… the man literally short-circuits.
The first time you met, you spilled your drink on his very expensive shoes. But he's not able to react because for some reason he is unable to move or form any words. You apologise and keep it moving. But him? He’s standing there having a full-on crisis like you just dropped a diamond into a sewer.
He starts to panic — which is foreign to him. He's never been the type to panic and crumble in front of a girl but he loses his cool and swagger COMPLETELY. He’s smooth-talking and unbelievably attractive — yet these two merits couldn't even serve him. His brain left the chat. Packed its bags and moved to another country.
After that? He starts asking his inner circle for relationship advice while pretending he’s "just hanging out." Literally pulling the "hypothetically…" card like he’s fooling anyone. He will awkwardly try to integrate you into high-status events, bringing you to the front-and-center of the VIP section like he’s parading a trophy — but a nervous, flustered trophy. And maybe one day… you will finally give him a chance to take you out on a proper date. Poor thing might actually pass out if you say yes.
SONG EUNSEOK — The Unhinged Party Animal.
Sigh. The bro. The party animal. He is rocking the Hawaiian shirt and the clubmaster sunglasses indoors for whatever reason. Always drinking beer. Also lowkey an asshole too — definitely stops a freshman mid-sentence and goes: “Buddy, I don't think we invited you here.” Like he wouldn't mind embarrassing them at all.</3
He's one of the most fun frat boys to party with. Makes the best jungle juice that tastes like fruit punch but will have you seeing God at 6 AM. Knows literally everyone at the party — but nobody has ever seen him in a single class. Which is why you were so surprised when he was like — “Hey I saw you in class and I thought you were the most beautiful girl…” and you’re standing there like… BRO WHAT FUCKING CLASS DO YOU EVEN GO TO?? ARE YOU ENROLLED?? DO YOU HAVE A STUDENT ID??
Also he genuinely believes any day ending in Y is a valid day to black out. Anyway… you agree to see him but keep it lowkey — and this kills him. Why won’t you let him show you off?? Why are you embarrassed to be seen with him??
Then the switch hits. Suddenly? He’s nowhere to be found on Friday nights. Basement parties? Gone. Drunk texts? Stopped. Instead he’s at your place — on the couch, watching terrible movies, talking about literally everything. His friends blowing up the group chat like “WHERE THE FUCK ARE U” and he doesn’t even reply. Because sitting quietly with you? Beats screaming over loud music with 100 drunk strangers any day.
JUNG SUNGCHAN — The Gym-Rat Lifter <3
Ah yes, The Gym-Rat Lifter <3. He lives in cut-off tanks that show every single muscle. Reeks of pre-workout so strong you can smell him from across campus. Mentions his bench press PR like it’s his greatest life achievement. He's a lowkey meathead but it's okay — he’s cute so we let it slide. He has a fitness Instagram aside from his personal one (he uses his personal one to attract people so they could join his fitness program…) And if you haven't heard about it then trust me, you will soon. He will make sure of it.
Sometimes he might come off standoffish or dense but it's just because he's truly self-absorbed in a way that he doesn't realize that it's kind of weird. Like yes Sungchan we get it you lift — breathe please. But when he starts to develop a crush on you? That's when he starts to gain self-awareness. And it’s painfully adorable.
Low-key at first you were kind of weirded out by the way he wanted to orbit in your space — like you go to the bathroom and he’s suddenly there. You go to class and he’s somehow there too. You swear that you tried to ignore it but he is EVERYWHERE. And worse — he knows everyone. You literally cannot escape him.
Eventually he offers to train you, awkwardly hovering around you at the gym like a very large, very enthusiastic watchdog.
“Your form is spectacular! I have never seen such a well-proportioned form.”
“…I'm just testing out the dumbbells..?”
DO NOT EVERRRR THINK THAT YOU WILL ESCAPE HIM. Might double as a bouncer at your favorite bar. You can’t even go out without him appearing like a very buffed-up genie. But when y'all start getting close and start hanging out at each others places? He stops living on protein shakes alone and starts buying actual food, learning to cook proper meals — just in case you wanna stay for dinner. Imagine that. The meathead can cook.
Three-hour leg day? Bitch please. Gone in 45 minutes if you ask to hang out. You > gains. We love a reformed man.
PARK WONBIN — The chill gamer bro (??)
Sigh. Might be the worst type of all — a mix of "the low-key chill gamer" and fuckboy. Literally the worst combination to ever exist but here we are. Slides into your DMs, asks you to “send nudes”, and is definitely hitting on all your friends too. He’s hot, he’s charming, but he’s definitely not worth it. He relies on his looks to get everything — good grades, girls, more followers, favors — things that literally everyone else has to work for. Annoying.
Quiet, keeps to himself, always in oversized hoodies. His setup is clean, sleek, and always glowing blue like a spaceship. Most nights he's locked in with a headset on, playing tactical shooters — the kind that take focus, patience, and zero yelling. Rainbow Six Siege, Valorant, Ready or Not. And probably plays Roblox every once in a while — Dress to Impress is his favourite. DO NOT TELL THE OTHER GUYS.
Doesn’t say much — until you. Yes — we did establish that he's low-key an a-hole but we love some character development right?? ANYWAYS.
He quietly rearranges his whole routine just to reply to you instantly. Invites you over just to sit in the same room while he plays, in hopes of impressing you. Starts inviting you over even more than usual "to study" — really meaning: sit on my bed, do your work, and let me play while trying not to stare at you the whole time. He likes the warmth of you nearby. please compliment him on his skills.
He starts to teach you how to play and now yall be playing against each other and to be honest? He lets you win 95% of the time completely forgetting that he’s supposed to be competitive. He just likes seeing you smile. But a part of him is genuinely scared of what he's feeling — he doesn't know how to name this feeling but all he knows is that it makes him want to be better, more serious, and everything you would like in a guy. The fuckboy is catching feelings. And he’s TERRIFIED.
LEE SOHEE — The Sweetheart <3
Yes, they do exist. And Sohee is one of them. Like Shotaro, his reason of being in a frat is tied to legacy. He is everything a fraternity’s dreams are made of. He proudly sports his Sperry’s, custom made letters, and the little whale logo. Every. Single. Day. And he is so damn proud of it. He’s basically the face of the entire chapter.
He's down to invite literally the entire town to his parties. Goes around and asks everyone if they're having fun like a professional party host. And god forbid if you're not — because then he will make it his mission to make that change.
He stays BOOKED and BUSY — always hiking, jet skiing or swimming. There isn't any activity that he isn't willing to try. Be it adventurous and outdoor activities or creative and mindful activities. And like Shotaro he is always organizing fundraisers, volunteering, and supporting charitable causes. Literally too good to be true. Someone check his pulse.
And then there’s you. He befriends you in a short period of him, claims that yall are bsfs but anyone can see that he treats you differently. Invites you to all their parties and not expect anything from you. He’ll make sure you get home safe, protect you from his creepy brothers who think staring is a personality trait, and hold your hair back if you need it — no questions, no weird expectations. Overall, he is one of the best guys out there. And somehow… he chose YOU. Lucky.
ANTON LEE — The wannabe DJ.
Is it a fraternity if there is no Wannabe DJ? Kidding anyways. Every frat has that one guy who makes music in his bedroom. That’s Anton.
Anton likes to keep to himself and sometimes even slacks off when it comes to fraternity duties (like organizing meetings or fundraisers) which is why he resorts to cleaning common areas, cooking rotations, maintenance, or managing guests. He is high-key an artistic soul and tries to exhibit that in his music.
Has speakers, makes music, lives in his own creative world. Doesn’t know how to say it straight — so he speaks through sound. His friends tease him and try to play the music he makes in parties but he would genuinely rather kick rocks with an open-toed shoe than have that happen. Especially since you're always present in their parties.
Genuinely convinced that you're his soulmate because according to him — "he couldn't hear the music in the background the moment he saw you.. just static noise in his ears." Has he considered that its probably he's drunk out of his mind and it could probably be tinnitus..? PROBABLY NOT! So he does try to shoot his shot. So he walks up. Nervous. Hands shaking. Goes:
“I made a playlist. It reminds me of you.”
“Anton. We’ve spoken twice.”
Does he care? NO. Would dedicate an entire set to you in front of a crowded room and ruin his whole “mysterious cool artist” act in 2 seconds? YES. And he wouldn’t even care. Because to him? You’re worth looking stupid for <3.
♡ Being loved by Anton is like being embraced by a golden retriever who still thinks he's a puppy: a childlike (affectionately) and a little stubborn kind of love, yet also deeply loyal and knows how to make you feel comforted.
♡ Being loved by him is like being in a friendly competition 24/7 to see who is the flirtiest, the funniest, the better tease. He can get competitive at times and will pout and whine if he loses.
♡ Being loved by him is like awakening your inner child: he loves enjoying childlike whimsies and encourages you to be lively and expressive, he makes you feel like you are reliving your childhood with him.
♡ Being loved by him is like being rich, he loves spoiling his favourite people with material goods and would giggle and blush if you return the favour.
♡ Being loved by him is like having a leader who is honest and straight-to-the-point. Anton is a quick thinker and thrives on being blunt and motivating you into doing things.
♡ Being loved by him is like spending all night texting your best friend, jumping from one topic to another so sudden yet seamlessly, giggling at how witty the conversation can get at times. He loves an honest, witty conversation that keeps him engaged.
♡ Being loved by him is like simply being in bed with him, cuddling inside the blankets (figuratively and literally), Anton values security and comforts, and he'll make sure you two are at ease and happy. He's the type to enjoy leaning next to you as you cuddle in bed, patting your hair or liking it when you pat his. He loves physical intimacy and if he could, he'd have you in his arms, kissing you 24/7 for the rest of his life.
♡ Being loved by him is like being the muse of his art, he is passionate about his art, he'd make songs thinking about you, loves having you by his side when he is producing, he wants you to be there, to see how much he cares about you and his music and conflate them together.
♡ Being loved by him is like having water flowing by your wounds, a soothing feeling in which he knows how to comfort you with his words and love language. He has a gentle, empathetic way of speaking and will make sure you feel safe with him.
Overall, being loved by Anton is doing the things you love together, feeling joy and whimsy, him motivating you into doing your best and being comforted and spoiled with love and luxury and most importantly, his loyalty.
••••••••••☆••••••••••
Feel free to share your thoughts, it'll encourage me to write better ♡
🍃 summary: after one reckless mistake too many, your parents send you away for the summer in hopes that a few months in the countryside with your grandmother might finally straighten you out. you fully intend to count down the days until you’re free again…right up until a bug loving little boy and his father begin making the mountains feel a little more like home.
❀ pairing: single dad!anton x f!reader
❀ genre: single parent au, slow burn, rich kid au, found family
❀ word count: 10.2k
⟶ chapter warnings: nothing!
🌱a/n: wow! after a little over two months it's finally over! gonna miss updating about this little family every friday! thank you so much to everyone who followed along and became invested in this just as much (if not more than me)! thank you for all the love and support! <3
previous | m.list
You’ve folded the same shirt three times.
The first time, you placed it neatly in the open suitcase at the foot of your bed. The second time, you took it back out because you decided it would fit better in your carryon. Now it sits in your lap again while you stare at the half-packed mess surrounding you. Clothes are spread across the bed, shoes sit in uneven rows along the floor and three open suitcases take up almost all the space in your room. You’ve been packing for nearly two hours and somehow the room looks worse than when you started.
It’s your last week in Korea.
The thought has been following you around for days, lingering behind every meal with your grandmother and every afternoon spent at Anton’s house. You’ve tried not to think about it too much, telling yourself you still have several days left and there’s no reason to ruin them by being sad early. The excuse became harder to believe once the suitcases came up from the storage closet and Mrs. Park began asking which clothes needed to be sent to the cleaners before your flight.
You look down at the shirt in your lap and fold it again before placing it inside your rimowa.
Your attention shifts to the small pile sitting beside you. Minyoung’s friendship bracelet he made you two days ago rests on top, the beads slightly uneven and his name stretched across the center in bright colors. Beneath it is one of the sketches Anton made while the three of you were sitting in the garden a few weeks ago. It was a quick drawing, the flower beds and trees of his garden but he added you and Minyoung near the bottom. Minyoung is crouched in the grass with a bug jar while you sit beside him looking considerably less interested in whatever insect he found.
You pick up the drawing and study it for a moment before placing it carefully between the pages of one of your architecture books so it won’t wrinkle during the flight.
A thick insect book is buried beneath two of your sweaters. You pull it free and immediately recognize the rhinoceros beetle on the cover. Minyoung must have left it here during one of the afternoons he spent in your room while Anton worked. You should put it aside to return later but instead you sit there with it resting in your hands, remembering how he climbed into your bed and spent nearly an hour reading facts aloud while you pretended to listen and finished a sketch for one of your upcoming classes.
Your bedroom door opens behind you. You quickly set the book aside and reach for another shirt, trying to look more productive than you actually have been. Your grandmother stands in the doorway with one hand resting against the frame. Her gaze moves slowly over the room, taking in the open suitcases, the clothes covering your bed and the untouched stack near the dresser. “I see packing is going well.”
“I’m almost done.” You murmur.
“Oh? You haven’t packed any shoes.” She says peering in.
“They’re on the floor.” You shrug
“Yes,” she says dryly. “That’s usually where shoes are kept.”
You roll your eyes and turn back toward the suitcase. “Did you come in here just to criticize my packing style?”
“I came to see whether you needed help.” She steps inside without waiting for an invitation and picks up one of the dresses lying near the end of the bed. “Though I’m beginning to think you may need professional assistance.”
“I know how to pack.” You scoff.
Your grandmother looks at the shirt you folded three times then at the pile still covering most of your bed. “Clearly.”
You take the dress from her and begin folding it yourself. “I’ve packed for boarding school, college and about a hundred vacations. I don’t need help.”
She doesn’t argue. Instead, she sits in the armchair near the window and watches you place the dress into the suitcase. You reach for another item, fold it and then unfold it when the sleeves don’t sit correctly.
“What?” you finally ask, growing annoyed with her silence.
“Nothing.”
You drop the new shirt you’re holding. “You’re staring.”
Your grandmother folds both hands over her lap. “You’ve folded that shirt several times.”
You glare at her but she only raises one brow. You drop the shirt into the suitcase without folding it properly and reach for the next thing. “There. Happy?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?” You ask exasperated, throwing your hands up.
She looks around the room again. “For you to say what’s wrong.”
“Nothing’s wrong?” You ask furrwoing your brows.
“You’ve been sulking for the past three days.”
You pull another sweater toward you and begin folding it, pressing down harder than necessary as your grandmother continues watching. You know what she wants you to say but saying it aloud will make everything feel more real. For most of the summer, leaving was the only thing you looked forward to. You counted down the days, complained to Harvey and Maya and treated everyday in the mountains like another punishment your father forced you to endure. Now, the idea of going back makes your stomach hurt.
You place the folded sweater into the suitcase and sit back on your heels. “I spent the entire summer wanting to leave.”
Your grandmother remains quiet. You stare down at the bracelet beside you and run your thumb over one of the beads. “I hated it here. I hated the house, the mountains, the reception. I hated waking up and knowing there was nothing to do.” A small laugh slips from you, though there’s nothing funny about the tightness building in your throat. “Now I feel sick every time I put something in my suitcase.”
Your grandmother’s expression softens but she doesn’t move from the chair. “You’re allowed to be sad.”
“I don’t want to be sad. I’m going back to Stanford. I get to see my friends and sleep in my own apartment. This is what I wanted.”
“It was.”
You look at her. “That isn’t helpful.”
“I’m not trying to be helpful. I’m telling you the truth. You came here believing this place was your punishment but it became your home because you allowed people here to love you, going back doesn’t undo that.”
You swallow and look toward the window. The garden is visible from your room. From here you can see the patio where Minyoung once spilled lemonade across Anton’s lap and the pool where Minyoung learned how to swim. You can see the stretch of grass where the three of you spent countless afternoons reading, drawing and listening to Minyoung ask question after question.
“What if everything changes when I leave?” you ask quietly.
Your grandmother lets out a small sigh. “Everything changes whether you leave or not.”
“That’s comforting.” You murmur.
She gives you a pointed look before continuing. “I’m not finished. The question is whether you intend to continue to care for the relationships you built, if you plan to continue to pour into them the way they have for you.”
You stare at her.
“Anton and Minyoung will still be here, their lives will continue and so will yours. You will have classes, assignments and friends demanding your time. Anton will have his company and a child to raise. There will be days when calling becomes difficult and visits don’t happen exactly when you planned. That doesn’t mean you lose them unless you choose to.” She continues.
“I wouldn’t choose that.” You defend softly.
Your grandmother stands and smooths down the front of her dress. “Returning to school doesn’t make you the same girl who arrived here.”
She heads toward the door before you can respond but pauses with her hand on the knob. For a moment, she remains facing the hallway. “I’m glad you came,” she says.
The words are so quiet you almost miss them. Your chest tightens all over again. “Grandma–”
“Don’t make this unpleasant.” She opens the door. “Finish packing.”
You laugh despite yourself and wipe quickly beneath one eye before any tears can fall. “I love you too.”
She waves one hand dismissively and leaves, closing the door behind her. The room feels quieter after she’s gone. You sit there for another moment before reaching for the insect book and placing it on the nightstand so you remember to return it. You’ve barely picked up another shirt when the bedroom door flies open.
“Noona!”
You turn just in time to see Minyoung run into the room.
“What the–” You drop the shirt and reach for him as he launches himself toward the bed. “How did you get in here? Where’s your dad?”
Minyoung lands across the edge of the mattress with a laugh. Your hand automatically moves toward his right arm to protect it before you remember there’s no longer a bright green cast wrapped around it. He bends the arm beneath himself without any difficulty and crawls farther onto the bed, completely unaware of the way you’re staring.
The cast came off a week after the science fair. You went with him and Anton to have it removed, sitting beside Minyoung while the technician used a small electric saw to cut through the green material. He spent most of the appointment clutching your hand with his left one and asking repeatedly whether the blade could cut his skin. Anton explained at least four times that it couldn’t, the technician even demonstrated it against his own palm and Minyoung still didn’t release you until the cast was completely off.
Now his right arm looks smaller than you remember and the skin is slightly lighter where the cast covered it but he’s spent the last two weeks using it for absolutely everything simply because he can.
“Halmoni let us in! Daddy is downstairs.” He says, sitting up on his knees.
You raise a brow. “So you just came running into my room?”
He nods eagerly. “Yes!”
You stare at him and Minyoung smiles cheekily and reaches behind his back. “I brought you something!”
He holds out a folded piece of paper. You take it from him slowly. “What’s this?”
“Read it, noona!” He sighs.
“Did you write it?”
“No. Daddy did.” He settles comfortably against your pillows as though he plans to remain there for the rest of the afternoon.
You unfold the note and immediately recognize Anton’s handwriting. It’s short, inviting you to dinner and asking whether you’d be willing to give him another chance at the first date the two of you never got to finish. A smile spreads across your face before you can stop it.
Minyoung watches you closely. “What does it say?”
“You delivered it. Don’t you know?” You ask cheekily.
“Daddy said it was private.” He pouts.
You laugh. “And yet you still want me to tell you?”
He shrugs. “Yes.”
You fold the note again and hold it against your chest. “Your father asked me on a date.”
Minyoung gasps like this is shocking information despite the way he’s been playing matchmaker between the two of you. “Are you going?”
You pretend to think about it. “I don’t know. I’m very busy.”
Minyoung looks around at the half-packed room. “Doing what?”
You narrow your eyes. “Packing.”
“You’re not very good at it.” He says honestly.
You scowl. “Did my grandmother send you up here to bully me?”
He giggles and slides off the pillows. “I can help now! I have two hands again.”
Before you can stop him, he grabs one of your shirts and begins folding it. The sleeves end up folded unevenly but he looks so proud of himself that you don’t correct it.
“See? Perfect.” He says tossing it into your suitcase.
You laugh and let him continue. For the next few minutes, Minyoung moves around the bed collecting whatever he can reach. He folds clothes badly, mixes up what bag is meant to hold what. Every task becomes another opportunity to show that his arm is healed. When he notices the insect book sitting apart from everything else, his eyes widen. “I was looking for this!”
You hum. “I figured it was yours.”
He picks it up with both hands and hugs it to his chest. “Can I leave it here?”
“Why?” You ask not looking up.
“So I have a book when I come over.”
You pause with a dress in your hands. Minyoung doesn’t notice. He sits back on the bed and flips through the pages, stopping at a photograph of a beetle before looking around the room. His excitement fades slightly as his eyes move over the suitcases. “Why are you taking everything?”
The question makes you look up. “Because I need it.”
“For your trip?”
You hesitate. That’s how everyone has been referring to it around him. Your flight, your trip, going back to school. Nobody has sat Minyoung down and properly explained that you won’t be returning a few days later like you do after spending the night at Anton’s house. You assumed Anton had spoken to him and Anton probably assumed Minyoung understood more than he did.
“Sort of,” you say carefully. “I’m going back to California.”
Minyoung nods, though his expression remains confused. “When are you coming back?”
“I’m not sure yet. Probably during one of my school breaks.”
His brows pull together behind his glasses. “What does that mean?”
“It means I have to stay there for a while.” You say gently.
“How long is a while?” He asks, tilting his head to the side.
“A few months.”
Minyoung goes still. His fingers stop turning the page and he looks down at the open book in his lap. “Months?”
You set the dress aside. “Yeah.”
“But you said it was a trip?”
“It is, but it’s a longer one. I have to go back to school.” You try to explain.
He doesn’t answer. The excitement that followed him into the room has disappeared completely and he begins picking at the corner of one of the pages with his thumbnail. You move closer before he can accidentally tear it. “Bug?”
“Did I do something?” He asks quietly.
The question catches you off guard. “What?”
Minyoung keeps his eyes on the book. “Did I make you leave?”
“No. Of course not.” You sit beside him and gently pull the book from his hands before placing it near the pillows. “Why would you think that?”
He shrugs but his mouth has started to pull into a pout. “Because I asked you to be my mom.”
Your heart drops. The three of you haven’t spoken about the conversation at the ice cream shop since it happened. Anton changed the subject that night and Minyoung appeared to move on almost immediately but clearly he hadn’t forgotten it the way both of you assumed.
“Minyoung, look at me.”
He refuses at first, staring stubbornly at the blanket instead so you place one hand beneath his chin and gently turn his face toward you. His eyes are already beginning to shine behind his glasses.
“I’m not leaving because you asked me that. Not even a little bit.” You tell him.
“Then why?” He whines.
“Because I have to finish school.”
“You can go to school here!”
“It doesn’t work like that. My school is in California and I still have classes I need to finish before I can graduate.” You say fighting off tears yourself.
Minyoung’s pout deepens. “You can quit.”
A small laugh escapes you despite the ache in your chest. “I can’t quit school.”
“Why not?”
“Because I worked really hard to get there and I want to finish. Remember how hard you worked on your science project even when your arm was broken?” You say, rubbing his arm softly.
He nods slowly.
“And you didn’t stop because it got difficult. You kept working until it was finished.”
“That was different.” He trails off.
“It’s a little different,” you admit. “But I still have to finish what I started.”
Minyoung looks down again. “I don’t want you to go.”
The words come out so quietly that you barely hear them. You open your arms and he immediately climbs into your lap, pressing himself against your chest as both arms wrap tightly around your neck. You circle your arms around his waist and rub one hand slowly over his back.
“I know,” you whisper. “I don’t want to go either.”
“Then stay.”
You close your eyes. Part of you wishes it could be that easy. That you could close the suitcases, call the private jet company and decide the life waiting in California no longer matters because this one feels better but your grandmother was right. Staying now wouldn’t keep anything from changing. “I have to go back, bug.”
Minyoung presses his face deeper into your shoulder. “You already said that!”
“I know.” You hold him tighter. “But going back to school doesn’t mean I’m leaving you forever.”
He doesn’t respond.
“You can call me whenever you want. We can facetime and you can show me all the bugs you find. I’ll help with your projects even if I have to do it through a screen and I’ll come back during my breaks.” You promise.
“What if you forget?”
The question breaks something inside you. You pull back enough to see his face and wipe beneath one of his eyes as the tears fall. “I could never forget you. You’re my best friend, remember?”
Minyoung sniffles and nods.
“And you’re my family. Being far away doesn’t change that.”
His eyes search your face, trying to figure out if you’re lying. “You promise?”
“I promise.” You say holding out a pinky.
He takes it eagerly with his own. “And we still have our calls?”
“As many as you want.” You nod.
“Every day?”
You smile. “Every day might be a lot.”
His face falls again.
“But we can try,” you add quickly. “And if I have class or you have school, we’ll call the next day. I’m not going to disappear.”
He studies you for another long moment before leaning forward and wrapping his arms around your neck again. You hold him against you and rub his back while he settles, his breathing slowly evening out.
“It’s only for a little while. I could never leave you behind.” You whisper into his hair.
Minyoung tightens his arms around you. “Good.”
You smile sadly. “Good?”
“I won’t let you.”
A laugh slips from you. “You won’t?”
He shakes his head adamantly. “No.”
“And how exactly are you planning to stop me?”
He lifts his head and looks at you with complete seriousness. “I’ll hide your passport.”
Your mouth falls open. “You know they can make me another one, right?”
Minyoung frowns, clearly not having considered that. “I’ll hide that one too.”
You laugh and press a kiss to his forehead. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
You dig your fingers into his sides and he squeals, twisting in your lap while trying to block you with both hands. You keep tickling him until his sadness gives way to breathless laughter and he starts begging you to stop.
When you finally release him, he falls backward onto the bed with his glasses crooked and his hair sticking up. You straighten both before he grabs your wrist.
“You really promise you’re coming back?”
You squeeze his hand. “I really promise.”
Minyoung nods, finally satisfied enough to sit up again. His eyes land on Anton’s folded note near your thigh and the excitement begins returning to his face. “You have to get ready!”
“For what?”
“For your date,” he says impatiently.
You laugh at the reminder, you had momentarily forgotten all about Anton’s note. He slides off the bed and reaches for clothes in your suitcase. “I can help.”
You sigh dramatically and stand. “Fine. You can help but I get the final decision.”
He nods satisfied and makes himself comfortable in the middle of your bed while you head toward the closet. For the next twenty minutes, Minyoung rejects nearly everything you show him. After the sixth option, you finally step out in a dress he approves of.
Minyoung studies you carefully, one finger resting against his chin. His eyes move from your shoes to your hair before he gives you an enthusiastic thumbs-up. “That one!”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.” He grins. “Daddy is going to like it.”
You roll your eyes, though your cheeks begin to warm. “Come on, bug.”
Minyoung jumps off the bed and slips his hand into yours. He tugs you toward the door, talking about the flowers Anton bought and how he wasn’t supposed to tell you about them and you let him pull you downstairs.
Anton looks up the second you and Minyoung reach the bottom of the stairs.
He’s sitting on the couch beside your grandmother with a cup of tea balanced in one hand. His eyes move over your dress slowly before settling on your face, a soft smile pulling at his mouth. Minyoung notices the reaction immediately and looks between the two of you with satisfaction.
“I picked it!” He announces proudly.
Anton sets his cup on the coffee table and rises from the couch. “You did a good job.”
Minyoung beams while you roll your eyes, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your cheeks. Anton is dressed more formally than usual in dark trousers and a button-up with the sleeves rolled neatly to his forearms.
“You look beautiful,” he says.
You smile and try to hide it behind your hand. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”
Your grandmother watches the three of you with a fond expression. Anton seems to remember something and turns toward the small table near the couch where a bouquet rests beside his keys. The arrangement is made up of soft pink and white flowers, some you recognize from his garden and others you don’t.
Anton holds them out to you. “These are for you.”
You accept the bouquet and bring it closer to your chest. “You made this?”
Anton nods. “I had help.”
“I picked the pink ones,” Minyoung says.
You laugh and lean down to kiss the top of his head. “Thank you, bug.”
“You’re welcome.”
Anton’s smile softens as he watches you. Your grandmother lets out an exaggerated sigh from the couch and reaches for her tea. “Please leave before I’m forced to watch any more of this.”
You turn toward her. “You’re the one who let them inside.”
“And I’m beginning to regret it.” She says dryly but you know that’s her humor.
Anton laughs quietly before reaching for his keys. You carry the flowers into the kitchen and place them in water while Minyoung reminds Anton not to forget his wallet.
When you return to the foyer, Anton is crouched in front of him straightening his glasses.
“Listen to Halmoni,” Anton says. “No running through the house and no staying awake until we get back.”
Minyoung frowns. “What time are you coming back?”
“Not too late.”
He pouts. “That’s not a time.”
Anton glances up at you. “He gets that from you.”
You place one hand against your chest. “Why am I being blamed?”
“Because you also argue with every answer I give.”
You scoff. “That sounds like a you problem.”
Minyoung nods in agreement. Anton closes his eyes for a second and fights off a smile. You laugh and crouch beside him, pulling Minyoung into a hug. He wraps both arms around your neck.
“Have fun,” he says against your shoulder.
“We will.” You hum.
“Bring me something please.” He asks.
“From dinner?” You question.
He nods his head against your neck. “Dessert, please.”
You pull back and pinch his cheek gently. “You have plenty of snacks here.”
“But I want cake.”
You laugh before assuring him you’ll sneak him a slice. Anton stands and holds out his hand to help you up. Minyoung waves as the two of you step outside then follows as far as the porch before your grandmother calls him back inside. He cups both hands around his mouth.
“Bring noona back, daddy!”
Anton turns as he opens the passenger door for you. “I was planning on it.”
“And don’t stay out too late!”
You laugh as Anton shakes his head and waits for you to get in. Minyoung continues waving with both arms until the car pulls away from the house. Instead of driving directly to the restaurant, Anton parks near the center of town. The evening is still warm and the streets are busier than usual, filled with families leaving cafés and couples walking between shops.
You recognize nearly every building now. The bakery where Minyoung once spent ten minutes choosing between two identical cookies, the bookstore where Anton bought you an architecture magazine after catching you staring at it and the convenience store where the three of you stopped after one of Minyoung’s bug hunts because it was hot out and you all needed to cool down.
“We’re walking?” you ask as Anton comes around to your side of the car.
He nods. “The restaurant isn’t far.”
“You could’ve said that before I wore these shoes.”
He looks down at your heels. “Do they hurt already?”
You think for a moment and shake out a foot. “No.”
Anton eyes you carefully, trying to tell if you’re lying to him. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not!”
Anton holds out his hand. “We can drive.”
You look toward the street then back at him. “I can walk.”
“You’re sure?”
You take his hand and begin pulling him toward the sidewalk. “Come on before we miss our reservation.”
Anton lets you lead for all of three steps before falling into place beside you. Your hands remain joined as you walk, swinging lightly between you. The conversation moves without effort, beginning with Minyoung’s growing confidence since having his cast removed and turning into an argument over whether he should be allowed to climb trees again.
“He’s healed. You can’t keep treating him like glass.” You say.
“I don’t treat him like glass.” He pouts.
You tilt your head to the side and give him a sideways glance. “You nearly had a heart attack when he jumped off the couch yesterday.”
“He landed on his arm!” He tries to defend.
You look at him. “Was he supposed to land on his head?”
Anton gives you a flat look but his thumb brushes across your knuckles. “Make all the jokes you want, I just don’t want him getting hurt again.”
You can hear humor leave his voice slightly and you squeeze his hand. “You’re right, I’m sorry.”
He looks over at you. “Thank you.”
You lean your shoulder against his as the two of you continue walking.
Dinner is at the restaurant the two of you were supposed to visit after the botanical gardens. Anton tells you that only after you’ve been seated, waiting until you recognize the name printed across the menu.
“This was the place?” you ask.
He nods while unfolding his napkin. “I figured we should finally make it through the second half of the date.”
“You’re confident nobody’s breaking another bone tonight?”
Anton’s expression changes instantly. “Too soon.”
You laugh. “Sorry.“
Anton studies you for a second before turning his hand over and briefly catching your fingers in his. He orders tea with dinner and you tease him for being an old man. He only rolls his eyes and says your grandmother is rubbing off on him.
You share almost everything. Anton orders one dish you were debating over and slides half of it onto your plate without being asked. You steal pieces from his plate anyway, even after he points out that you already have the same thing in front of you.
“It tastes better from yours,” you tell him.
“It’s the exact same food.”
“No, it isn’t.” You whine.
Anton pushes his plate closer. “Take it, then.”
You smile and take another bite. “You’re so easy.”
“Was I just…played?” He questions. You hum and laugh in response.
The conversation moves through everything and nothing.
You talk about Anton’s firm, Minyoung’s cast removal and his insistence that the saw was going to cut through his arm. Anton claims you made it worse by letting Minyoung squeeze your hand every time the machine turned on.
“What was I supposed to do? Let him suffer alone?”
Anton gives you an unimpressed look. “He was fine.”
“He was scared!” You laugh.
Anton looks at you for a moment, his expression softening again. “He’s always less scared when you’re around.”
The words settle oddly in your chest. You glance down at your plate and move a piece of food around with your fork, suddenly aware of how many moments you’ve become part of without intending to. Doctor’s appointments, science projects, breakfast before school.
Anton notices the shift and changes the subject before it can become awkward. He tells you about Sungchan attempting to teach Minyoung basketball and how the ball hit Junyoung in the face within the first ten minutes. You laugh so loudly that the couple at the next table looks over.
By the time the plates are cleared, your cheeks hurt from smiling. Anton declines the dessert menu when the server offers it. You look at him in disbelief.
“You said dessert was part of the date.”
He smiles. “It is.”
“Then why are you sending it away? I promised our entomologist a slice of cake.”
“Because we’re not having it here.”
You narrow your eyes. “Where are we having it?”
Anton only reaches for the bill. “You’ll see.”
He pays before you can argue and stands, holding out his hand. You take it and let him lead you back outside, the air cooler now that the sun has gone down. Instead of walking toward the car, he guides you farther along the street.
“Where are we going?” you ask.
“Not far.”
The town begins thinning out behind you as the two of you reach the start of a narrow trail leading farther into the mountains. You stop and look down at your shoes then at Anton.
“You brought me hiking in heels?”
Anton steps in front of you and crouches slightly. “Get on.”
You stare at his back. “Absolutely not.”
“You just complained about your shoes.”
You blush. “I wasn’t asking you to carry me.”
Anton looks over his shoulder. “Do you want dessert or not?”
You hesitate before placing both hands on his shoulders. “If you drop me, I’m telling everyone.”
“I’m not going to drop you.” He laughs.
“You say that now.”
He reaches back and hooks his hands beneath your thighs as you climb onto his back. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and try not to laugh when he stands without any difficulty.
“You’re annoyingly strong,” you murmur near his ear.
Anton begins walking. “Thank you.”
You rest your chin against his shoulder as he carries you up the short trail. The path curves gently between the trees and the lights from town grow smaller behind you. After a few minutes, you notice a faint glow ahead. At first you assume it’s coming from another house or one of the lanterns lining the trail but as Anton continues forward, the light grows warmer.
Soon, you spot small fairy lights wrapped around the trees. You lift your head from his shoulder. “Anton.”
He doesn’t answer.
The trail opens into a quiet overlook above the town. A large blanket is spread across the grass near the edge, surrounded by glass jars filled with small battery candles. Flowers are arranged along the corners of the blanket and woven through the low branches overhead. Some are the same varieties he used in the bouquet, mixed with greenery and smaller wildflowers from the mountain.
A basket sits in the center beside two glasses. Anton carefully lowers you to the ground. For a moment, you can only stare.
“You did all of this?”
He rubs the back of his neck, suddenly looking shy. “I wanted the date to have a better ending this time.”
You step closer to the blanket and look at the flowers again. It looks like the work he does in gardens, every detail chosen carefully.
“The floral architect in you really came out,” you say.
“Landscape architect.” He corrects.
“Potato potahto or whatever the saying is.”
Anton shakes his head and reaches for your hand. “Sit down.”
You let him guide you onto the blanket and settle beside him while he opens the basket. Inside are containers of sliced fruit, a bottle of sparkling cider and several small white boxes from the French bakery you’ve been obsessed with all summer. One holds macarons in different flavors while another contains miniature cakes decorated with fruit and cream.
Your eyes widen. “You remembered the rose ones.”
“You ordered them like three times in one week.”
“That doesn’t mean you had to remember.” You say back.
Anton hands you the box. “I remember most things you tell me.”
The answer makes your chest warm. You pick up one of the macarons and take a bite before offering the other half to him. Anton leans closer and eats it from your fingers, his eyes remaining on yours long enough that you have to look away first.
The two of you settle into the blanket with the town spread below you. Anton pours the sparkling cider while you open the fruit and arrange the pastries between you. For a while, the conversation remains easy. You rate the macarons from best to worst, disagree over which mini cake Minyoung would choose and argue about whether strawberries belong near dark chocolate.
You lean against Anton’s shoulder as the evening grows darker around you. His arm rests behind your back and his fingers move slowly over your side while you watch the lights below.
“This is better than the botanical gardens,” you say.
Anton looks down at you. “Good. That was the goal.”
You take another sip of cider and let the quiet settle. For the first time all evening, the thought of leaving returns clearly. It’s difficult to not imagine this same view without you in it, Anton bringing Minyoung up here one afternoon while you sit in California surrounded by assignments and noise.
You look down at the half-eaten macaron in your hand. “Minyoung knows I’m leaving.”
Anton’s fingers still against your side. “Did you tell him?”
You nod. “This afternoon. He came upstairs while I was packing and asked why I was taking everything.”
Anton exhales slowly. “I thought he understood.”
“So did I.” You turn the macaron between your fingers.
Anton looks toward the town. “I should’ve explained it better.”
You play with the macaron. “He asked if he did something to make me leave.”
Anton’s face tightens. “What?”
You swallow. “He thought I was leaving because he asked me to be his mom.”
For a moment, Anton says nothing. The only sound around you is the faint movement of the trees and distant traffic from the road below. He lowers his glass and rests it beside the basket.
“I’m sorry,” he says eventually.
You look at him. “For what?”
“For putting you in that position.”
You shake your head. “You didn’t ask the question.”
Anton rubs one hand over his face. “I should’ve spoken to him after the ice cream shop. I thought he forgot.”
“So did I.” You say softly.
“He shouldn’t think he did something wrong.”
“He doesn’t anymore. I explained it.” You reassure him.
Anton looks toward you again. “What did you say?”
“That I have to finish school and that leaving doesn’t mean I’m disappearing.” You pause before adding, “I promised I’d come back.”
Something shifts in Anton’s expression but he looks away before you can read it properly.
You place the unfinished macaron back into the box. “I’ve been thinking about what he asked ever since that night.”
Anton remains quiet, waiting.
“I don’t think he understands what being someone’s mom actually means.” You start with.
“And honestly, I’m not sure I do either.” You laugh softly but the sound comes out nervous. “I know what my mother was supposed to be. I know what yours is to you but I don’t know what that would look like for me.”
Anton turns his body toward you. “You don’t have to know.”
“But being with you means being part of his life too.” You say softly.
You watch Anton swallow before saying, “yeah.”
You pull your knees closer and wrap one arm around them. “I don’t want a version of this where I only get to love you when it’s easy and everything involving Minyoung stays your responsibility. That isn’t fair to either of you.”
Anton watches you carefully.
“I don’t know if I’m ready for him to call me Mom,” you continue. “I don’t know if I deserve it or if he’ll even want that when he’s older and understands everything better but I know I don’t want a future that doesn’t include him.”
The words leave you more exposed than you expected. Anton looks down for a second, pressing his lips together as though he needs time before answering.
“I’ve never wanted someone to replace Jia,” he says quietly.
You nod.
“I don’t think anyone could and I don’t mean that in a good or bad way. She’s part of how he got here. One day he’ll have more questions and I’ll answer them honestly.” Anton reaches for your hand and holds it between both of his. “What I wanted was someone who would choose him.”
Your throat tightens and you look down at your joined hands.
“You showed up when he broke his arm. You sat through the cast removal even when he nearly crushed your fingers. You helped with his project, went to his science fair and listened to him explain the same beetle facts over and over the entire summer.” Anton’s thumb moves slowly across the back of your hand.
Your eyes begin burning and you blink quickly.
“I don’t care what he calls you,” Anton continues. “I don’t care when he asks again or if he never does. He knows you love him. That’s enough for me.”
You let out a shaky breath and look toward the lights below. “I’m scared.”
“Of what?” He asks gently.
“That I’ll leave and he won’t understand why. That I’ll get busy and miss calls or something will happen here and I won’t know until later. That one day he’ll think I left the same way she did.”
Anton’s grip on your hand tightens. “Then keep coming back.”
You turn toward him.
“I know you have to finish Stanford, I’m not asking you to stay here and give everything up, I’d never ask that of you. I’m not asking you to move tomorrow or make promises you can’t keep.”
His voice remains calm but his eyes don’t leave yours. “I’m asking you to keep coming back to us.”
Your chest aches. Anton looks toward the town for a moment before continuing. “I knew you were leaving from the beginning. I told myself it was fine because it was only summer and neither of us expected anything serious. Then you started showing up every day and Minyoung began asking if you were coming over before he even asked what we were having for breakfast.”
A small laugh escapes you through the emotion building in your throat.
“I started saving things to tell you later. I’d be at work and see something Minyoung would like then think about whether you’d like it too.“
Anton’s thumb brushes over your knuckles again. “I started imagining my future with you in it.”
You look at him, unable to say anything.
“I love you,” he says simply.
The words settle over you. They feel like something you’ve both known for a while and were waiting for the right time to admit it. Your eyes fill with tears before you can stop them. “Anton.”
He gives you a small, nervous smile. “I know I’m probably two months late but will you allow me to be your boyfriend?”
A laugh slips from you as one tear falls down your cheek. “I was wondering when you were going to ask.”
You see a faint blush dust across his cheeks. “I wanted to do it right.”
You wipe beneath your eye and lean closer. “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”
Anton’s smile breaks fully across his face before he cups your cheek and pulls you toward him.
The kiss is slow at first, his thumb resting beneath your jaw while your hand curls into the front of his shirt. He kisses you like there’s nowhere else either of you needs to be, the fairy lights glowing around you and the town stretching beneath the mountain. You move closer until your knee presses against his and Anton’s other hand settles at your waist, holding you there.
When you finally pull apart, he rests his forehead against yours.
“So you’ll keep coming back?” he asks quietly.
You smile and close your eyes. “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”
“Please don’t forget us.”
You stare at Yebin for a second before laughing. “Yebin? ”
“I’m serious.” She wipes quickly beneath both eyes only for another tear to replace the one she just caught. Sohee stands beside her with one arm around her waist, rubbing his hand slowly over her side while she tries and fails to pull herself together. “You’re going all the way back to California and what if you get busy or make new friends and–”
“I already have friends in California.”
“That isn’t helping!” She cries out.
Sohee looks at you over her head. “I told you she’d cry before we even got here.”
Yebin turns toward him with an offended expression. “You’re supposed to comfort me!”
“I am comforting you.” He smiles down at her, squeezing her hip.
Yebin only scowls. “You’re making fun of me!”
Junyoung snorts from where he’s leaning against the back of one of the terminal chairs. “She’s been crying since breakfast.”
“I have not,” Yebin argues, leaning farther into Sohee despite herself.
Sohee doesn’t hesitate. “Yes you have babe.”
The private terminal is ao small that the group of you takes up nearly the entire waiting area. Your father’s private jet sits on the tarmac beyond the windows while the crew finishes loading the last of your suitcases. One of the attendants already collected your passport and confirmed the flight plan, leaving you with nothing to do besides wait for someone to tell you it’s time to board.
Three months ago, you would’ve been checking the time every few seconds and wondering why they were taking so long. Now you wish they’d find a reason to delay the flight another hour.
You open your arms and Yebin steps into them immediately, wrapping both arms around your neck while Sohee releases her with a quiet laugh. “I’m coming back,” you remind her, hugging her tightly.
“You say that now.” She sniffs.
“I go to school there. You knew I’d have to go back.” You remind her.
“I know, but I liked having you here.”
The honesty in her voice makes your throat tighten. You rub one hand over her back before pulling away enough to look at her. “You can call me whenever you want.”
“Trust me, I will. Who else am I gonna complain about the boys to?”
You laugh and remind her she can also visit, that you’d pull out all the stops to show her how beautiful Cali is. Yebin nods even though she still looks miserable. Sohee reaches for her hand once she steps away and gives her fingers a reassuring squeeze before turning toward you. He doesn’t look nearly as emotional as his girlfriend but the joking expression he’s worn all morning has dimmed a bit, you swear you might even see a frown pulling at his lips.
“Call us when you land,” he says.
You nod. “I will.”
“And keep calling after that because if you disappear, I swear I’ll come find you myself.”
You laugh and pull him into a hug before he can say anything else. Sohee hugs you back without hesitation, patting your back twice before holding on a little longer than expected.
“Take care of yourself,” he says quietly near your ear. “And don’t worry about Anton. I’ll keep him from becoming miserable.”
You pull away and glance toward Anton, who’s standing several feet away beside his parents with Minyoung held against his side. “Promise?”
He smiles and nods before stepping back beside Yebin who immediately reaches for him again. You’re still smiling when Junyoung walks over and holds one hand out toward you. You look at it. “What is that?”
“A goodbye handshake.” He says.
You raise a brow. “That’s all I get?”
He shrugs. “I don’t want you to cry like Yebin.”
Yebin gasps from behind him. “Why am I getting attacked today?”
Junyoung keeps his hand extended until you finally take it. Instead of shaking, he pulls you forward and wraps one arm around your shoulders.
“I knew you wanted a hug,” you say.
“Don’t make it weird.”
“You made it weird by offering a handshake?” You laugh.
He ignores you and squeezes once before letting go. “Bring me something from California.”
You hum. “What do you want?”
Junyoung thinks about it for several seconds.“Something from Stanford.”
You furrow your brows. “You want university merchandise?”
He shrugs. “Maybe I’ll send an application there, feel like I have a good shot at getting in.”
You smile and nod slowly. “I’ll stop by the school store first thing.”
Junyoung smiles and gives you one more hug before he steps aside. Sungchan approaches next, both hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie. He’s been quieter than everyone else since arriving. The past few weeks have been strange for him, split between helping Anton close the custody case and trying to make sense of whatever relationship remains between him and Jia now that she’s returned to New Jersey.
He looks toward the windows before meeting your eyes. “So this is it.”
You nod. “For now.”
“Right.”
You study his face. “Are you going to miss me?”
Sungchan scoffs. “No.”
You smirk. “You’re a terrible liar.”
Sungchan ignores your teasing. You smile and open your arms, waiting until he sighs dramatically and steps forward. His hug is brief but tight, one hand pressing between your shoulder blades before he pulls away.
“I’ll look after them,” he says.
You glance toward Anton and Minyoung. “I’m pretty sure they’re the ones who look after you.”
He looks at you mock offended. “That’s not true.”
You laugh and squeeze his arm. “No shame in it, that’s how family works, right?”
He huffs and nods. “I guess so.”
You smile and let him go. “Take care of yourself.”
Sungchan nods. “You too.”
Anton’s father comes over next. He spent most of the morning making sure your bags were loaded correctly and checking the weather along your flight path despite the crew repeatedly assuring him everything was fine. He places one hand on your shoulder. “You have everything you need?”
“I think so.”
He nods, satisfied. “Good.”
You wait, knowing there’s more coming. His gaze shifts briefly toward Anton before returning to you.
“You’re always welcome in our home,” he says eventually. “You don’t need to wait for an invitation.”
The simple statement catches you harder than expected. You nod and step forward to hug him. He wraps both arms around you, holding you with the same firmness he uses with Minyoung.
“Thank you,” you whisper.
He gives your back one gentle pat before releasing you. Anton’s mother takes his place almost immediately, already holding a small gift bag you hadn’t noticed earlier.
“This is for the flight,” she says.
You accept it and peek inside. A linen photo album rests beneath several packets of Korean snacks you’ve come to love and a small envelope with your name written across the front. You lift the album out and open the first page.
It’s a picture from Minyoung’s birthday. He’s sitting between you and Anton with frosting on his cheek while the two of you look at him instead of the camera. The next photo is one you took from a bug hunt, followed by another of the three of you in the garden your grandmother took and one from the science fair with Minyoung holding his certificate in front of everyone.
Your eyes begin burning before you’ve made it halfway through.
“I printed as many as I could find,” Anton’s mother explains. “Anton sent me some and your grandmother had the rest.”
You close the album carefully. “Thank you.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t have to thank me.”
Her arms circle you before you can respond. You hold the album against her back and hug her tightly. “Thank you for loving them,” she says quietly.
Your face presses into her shoulder as the emotions you’ve been trying to keep under control rise again. “They make it easy.”
“I know they can be a lot.”
“Mostly your son.” You joke.
She laughs and pulls back enough to look at you and smooths both hands over your arms. “Finish school. Take care of yourself and come back when you can. We’ll be here.”
You nod because attempting to speak will only make you cry. She kisses your cheek before stepping back beside her husband.
You look over to your grandmother next. She’s spent the entire morning pretending this is no different from any other trip. She checked your luggage before you left the house and called to remind the flight attendants twice that you don’t like olives in anything served onboard. She’s watched everyone else say goodbye without interrupting, her hands folded neatly over the handle of her purse.
When she catches your gaze, she raises one brow. “What?”
“You’re avoiding me.” You jokingly accuse.
“I’ve been standing here the entire time.” She denies.
“You know what I mean.”
Your grandmother sighs and walks over. She reaches for the collar of your zip-up, straightening the fabric before smoothing one hand over your shoulder. “You have your passport?”
You sigh. “Yes.”
“Your phone is charged?”
“Mhhhm.”
“Did you pack the medication Mrs. Park left on your nightstand?”
“Yes, Grandma.”
She nods once. “Good.”
You wait for her to continue but she only looks at you, her expression calm despite the sadness swimming in her eyes. “That’s all?” you ask.
“What else would you like me to say?”
You laugh, though it comes out unsteady. Your grandmother’s expression softens and she reaches up to cup one side of your face. “You did well here,” she says.
The words are simple but you understand everything behind them. The girl who arrived angry, drunk and determined to make the summer miserable for everyone around her feels like someone you remember more than someone you still are.
“I’m glad I came,” you admit.
“So am I.”
You step into her before she can dismiss the moment and wrap both arms around her. She goes stiff for half a second then hugs you back. One hand settles against the back of your head while the other presses firmly between your shoulders.
“I love you,” you whisper.
“I know.”
“You could say it back.” You laugh through tears.
“I could.”
You pull away and stare at her. Your grandmother’s mouth twitches before she leans forward and kisses your forehead.
“I love you too.”
Your throat closes completely. She releases you before you can let the tears fall and gives your shoulder one final pat. “Call me when you land.”
You nod. “I will.”
“And don’t become a stranger in your own home.”
You shake your head. “I won’t.”
She nods and steps away. Minyoung has remained glued to Anton through every goodbye but after his grandparents said their last wrods he had Anton put him down. By the time your grandmother leaves you, he’s standing directly in front of you with both hands wrapped around the straps of his little backpack.
You crouch. “What’s in there?”
He pulls the bag closer. “Things.”
You raise a brow “What things?”
“For the plane.”
“You’re not coming on the plane.” You remind him softly, heart breaking.
“I know.” Minyoung opens the front pocket and begins removing items one at a time. “This is for you.”
The first is a folded drawing of the three of you standing in Anton’s garden. The proportions are completely wrong, Anton is as tall as slenderman and Minyoung appears to be floating beside a flower larger than his head but each person’s name is written carefully above them.
You take it from him. “I love it.”
“There’s more.” He pulls out a small packet of gummy worms, a toy rhinoceros beetle and one of the bookmarks you bought him during your first trip to the bookstore. “You can use this for your school books.”
“That was yours.” You say, unwilling to make him part with it.
“You can borrow it.” He shrugs.
You smile and hold it close to your chest. “Will I have to give it back?”
He nods. “When you come home.”
Your lips tilt downward in a slight pout at his words. You place everything carefully inside your tote before reaching for him. Minyoung steps between your knees and wraps both arms around your neck.
“You packed my other drawing?” he asks against your shoulder.
You nod. “Yes.”
“And the bracelet?”
You lift your wrist so he can see it. “Right here.”
He nods and moves closer again. “When are you coming back?”
“Before Christmas.” You say, already having your tickets purchased for your winter break.
“How many sleeps is that?” He asks cluelessly.
You laugh. “A lot, bug.”
His face falls.
“But we can make a countdown,” you add. “Your dad can help you mark off each day.”
Minyoung glances up at Anton. “Can we?”
Anton nods. “Of course.”
He turns back to you. “And we’re still calling?”
“As much as we can,” you promise.
“What time?”
You hum. “I don’t know yet. California is on a different time.”
Minyoung frowns. “Can you call after my dinner?”
You fight off your laugh. “If I’m awake.”
He studies your face for a moment before asking, “Will you miss me?”
The question almost makes you laugh because there is no possible world where the answer isn’t anything but yes. You place both hands against his cheeks and kiss the tip of his nose. “I’m going to miss you every day.” You say softly.
“How much?”
You smile. “So much that I’m counting down even the seconds.”
Minyoung smiles a little. “I’ll miss you more.”
You shake your head. “That’s impossible.”
“No, it’s not.”
You laugh and pull him against you again. He hugs you tightly, his face pressing into the side of your neck while you rub one hand slowly over his back. You’ve promised him over and over that you’re coming back but part of you still wants to say it again until there’s no room left for doubt.
“I’m not disappearing,” you whisper. “Okay?”
Minyoung nods against you.
“I’ll call. I’ll visit. I’ll help with your projects and listen to every new bug fact you learn.”
“Even the gross ones?”
You hum. “Even the gross ones.”
He remains in your arms for another few seconds before Anton crouches beside you. “Buddy, you have to let her stand up.”
Minyoung’s hold tightens. “Why?”
“Because she has to get on the plane.” He gently explains.
“I don’t want her to!”
Anton looks toward you, his expression apologetic but you shake your head and keep holding Minyoung until he loosens his arms on his own. When he finally steps back, he keeps one hand in yours.
One of the flight attendants approaches from the tarmac doors. “Miss, we’ll be ready whenever you are.”
Every conversation in the terminal stops. You nod even though your stomach turns at the words. “Thank you.”
The attendant gives you a polite smile and moves away again, allowing you a few more minutes.
Anton waits until Minyoung returns to his grandparents before coming closer. Everyone gives the two of you space without needing to be asked. He stops directly in front of you and places both hands inside his pockets for a moment, clearly trying to decide what to do with them.
“You okay?” you ask.
He shakes his head. “No.”
The honesty makes you laugh despite the tears gathering again. “Me neither.”
Anton looks down before reaching for your tote. He adjusts the strap where it has twisted against your shoulder then checks that the zipper is fully closed. The small tasks give him something to focus on besides the plane waiting outside.
“You’ll text me before takeoff?” he asks.
“Yeah.”
“And when you land?”
“Yes.”
“And if anything changes during the flight?”
“Anton.”
“I know.” He exhales and rubs one hand against the back of his neck. “I’m trying not to be annoying.”
You reach for his hand. “I’ll be okay.”
“I know.”
You tilt your head. “You don’t sound convinced.”
“I know you’ll be fine.” His fingers close around yours. “I just don’t like that you’ll be far away.”
Your lips pull together in a sad line. “Neither do I.”
For a few seconds, neither of you says anything. Anton steps closer. “You meant what you said?”
You tilt your head briefly. “What part?”
“That I couldn’t get rid of you.”
You smile. “Unfortunately for you.”
“Good.”
He cups your cheek and kisses you. The kiss is soft and brief, nothing like the ones exchanged beneath the fairy lights. Your hand catches against the front of his shirt while his thumb brushes once beneath your eye.
“I love you,” he says when he pulls away.
“I love you too.”
A small tug at your hand pulls your attention downward. Minyoung is looking up at you expectantly, his little backpack still hanging from both shoulders.
“Can I have one too?”
You smile at the question. Six nights ago, a day after your makeup date with Anton, the two of you sat Minyoung down at the kitchen table and told him your date had gone really well and that the two of you were officially boyfriend and girlfriend now. He’d stared at both of you for all of five seconds before asking, “Does that mean we’re a family now?”
You crouch until you’re eye level with him, brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead.
“Of course you can.”
He grins and you lean forward and press a kiss against his cheek. He giggles immediately, scrunching his shoulders before wrapping both arms around your neck for one last hug. “I love you, noona.”
Your eyes close for just a second as you hold him tighter. “I love you too, bug.”
Anton squeezes your hip as you come back up and Minyoung takes your hand as everyone follows you toward the doors leading to the tarmac.
The crew has positioned the stairs beneath the jet and the engines have begun their hum. One of the attendants waits near the bottom while another finishes checking the cabin inside. Your luggage has already disappeared into the hold. There’s nothing left to delay.
You hug Minyoung one last time before forcing yourself to let go. He returns to Anton’s side, though his eyes remain fixed on you as you step toward the aircraft.
“Noona!” he calls before you reach the stairs.
You turn.
“Don’t forget about me!”
The words carry across the tarmac. You smile and lift one hand. “I couldn’t if I tried.”
Minyoung waves first. Everyone else joins him a second later. Yebin is crying again while Sohee keeps one arm around her shoulders. Junyoung lifts both hands when you wave in his direction and Sungchan stands beside Anton’s parents, trying unsuccessfully to pretend he isn’t crying. Your grandmother remains in the center of them all, one hand lifted and her chin held high.
Anton stands behind Minyoung with both hands resting against his shoulders.
You look at all of them for as long as you can.
For most of your life, leaving meant escaping before anyone could decide they no longer wanted you. You left parties before the attention faded, relationships before they became serious and homes before family members had the chance to make you feel small.
This time, you aren’t running from anything.
You climb the first step and look back once more. Minyoung is still waving, Anton smiling softly behind him while the rest of the family remains gathered around them.
They don’t look like people you’re leaving behind, they look like people waiting for you to come home.
