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still dont trust you | 브라이언 호

★ pairing: 브라이언 호 brian ho x reader

★ summary: young, rich and sexy, what alse is to do if not ruin the friendship? its not like everyone cares about your love life? right?

★ wc: 10.5k words and an insane amount of dividers.

★ warnings: suggestive but not explicits. reader is literally stupid.

★ a/n: forcing myself to post it before i edit it to oblivion. Gonna try to start writing longer fics for someone else besides the ampies even if i have a kyrell one (that i think im gonna rewrite lmao)

★ permanent taglist: @blubb0 @gyubvlin

If someone asked how it all began, you would tell them the truth. Exactly like every other gala. The same people, the same topics and the same goal. For net working, or as your mother actually meant, you to find a partner. Having resigned to forming an alliance with their only match worth, way to focused on their longstanding feud between them for them to think of you and the He heir as a possible match, they now scouted every young boy from a acceptable background in hopes one catches your eyes, or even better yet, your heart. It always annoyed you, having just gotten out of what could have been described as a situationship from hell, as any twenty something years old girl did, when you were suddenly presented to another of your parents' friends son.

You knew him, he was somewhat of an acquaintance from the last few years. But you were not interested in getting to know him in a romantic light, since he probably was the most boring guy you could meet. You could see Brian disapproving stare as he stood behind the guy, mocking every word the guy let out, particularly the forced pick up lines that felt very rehearsed. You had to stifle a laugh as he gagged at a particularly bad joke, and scrambled around for an excuse when he signaled for you two to get out of there, like you had done hundreds of times before.

You walked around the infinite halls, his hand resting on your waist like it belonged there, guiding you around. This time felt different thought, the way his thumb rubbed against the fabric of your dress is way too familiar, but still unsettling enough to have you second guessing where the night was going. Everything felt way too romantic for you to be walking with Brian in the same halls you used to play hide and seek a few years ago.

You reach the balcony you only deem worthy enough in situations like this, too obscure to be used at any other time. It's the ugliest one, by your family's standard, since it has a view of the city instead of the lavish gardens that are part of your home. You two would spend most of the parties staring the night away, sitting on the forgotten space, sometimes with company, sometimes alone; that mostly depended on who was in the country.

You drank your first glass of champagne there, sneaking them around when you were thirteen, smoked your first cigarette; coughing and way too scared of getting caught, every small milestone of your friendship seemed to have happened in the confined space.

Your reminiscing is cut short as Brian props himself against the railing, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket. He gracefully plucks one out before inviting you one, as if making a peace offering for the extensive question his mother had put you through. Fraternizing with the enemy if you will.

You waste no time grabbing one, manicured nails scratching at the familiar packaging. The same brand that occupied your nightstand, the same one as that one for the first time. Some things never change, you guess.

"You got the lucky one" he comments, discarding the package for later and pulling out his lighter, struggling to light his. It seemed to be dying, having to be shaken and tossed in order to work.

"What does that mean?" you ask, grabbing the lighter out of his hand. You weren't stupid, having fooled around enough questionable boys for you to know the smoker lingo, but you don't know why you needed to hear him say it, maybe it was the champagne talking or how good he looked in a suit.

"It means you want to kiss me" he explains, watching you struggle with the lighter that seemed to be giving its last breaths before, now accepting its death.

"Nice to know" you say, throwing him back the lighter before coming closer, grabbing the neck of his jacket. "Come here"

"Gonna cash in your prize so early?" He smiles, teasing, cigarette resting on his lips. You can see his eyes wander all over your face, tracing your eyes, nose, before deciding to pull a stop on your lips.

"You wish." You say, pressing the tip of your own cigarette to his, inhaling to ignite it. His breath hitches at the sudden closeness, and you can feel his eyes scanning your face, searching for a hint of anything that gave him leverage, hoping you didn't feel his fastening heartbeat under your palm.

You finish lighting your cigarette, taking a step back. He lets himself admire your beauty for once in his life. He always knew you were pretty, in a girl next door type of way, but something about the way you looked tonight was driving him insane.

"Maybe" he shrugs, a teasing smile on his lips and he turns to look at the city view. You watch the way he leans against the railing, exhaling the smoke as he lets out a sigh.

He really had grown into his frame, no longer the lanky kid that you remembered from all those parties years ago. Truth to be told, your friendship with him was relatively new, sure, you had known each other for years, but didn't care enough to form an actual relationship between the two of you besides odd interactions at this parties, usually in company of the other kids there.

You actually hit it off beyond vapid conversations during a party around a year ago, after your parents had deemed necessary to try and set you two up for once and for all, a great opportunity to mix with the enemy since you turned of age. You both had been tipsy, and what would have been an uncomfortable conversation with any other of the available bachelors had turned into a really nice friendly banter. Sure, you knew he was hot, but at that moment you found his wit way more interesting.

Brian finishes his cigarette, throwing it into the ashtray as he grabs the discarded pack. Your eyes follow his every move, taking one of the last drags of your own. He wastes no time pulling you closer by the waist, pressing the tip of his new cigarette to your own, torturing you in the exact same way you did to him moments prior. He takes a drag. Teasing. Clearly enjoying that the effects of the closeness aren't one sided.

You seize the opportunity, pulling his cigarette out of his hand and pressing your lips to his, the sigh he lets out forcing the smoke into your lungs, and even if you have smoked for a while now, it has never tasted better. His hand wraps around your waist, as if trying to pull you impossible closer.

You have to break apart, just enough to air enter your lungs once again, letting the smoke trail against his lips as you exhale it. He presses his lips to yours once again, his hand forcing yours to put out the barely started cigarette, just so he could place it on his shoulders. You gasp, feeling the taut muscle under your hands, and he can't help the smile that presses against your lips once again.

Brian wastes no more time, his kisses now trailing lower. “We should go somewhere more private” he says between kissing and sucking, leaving the tiniest marks he could, as if claiming you “unless you want to give them a show”

Right, them.

You were on a balcony, that other people could very much see the way you were basically devouring the boy in front of you, and you were sure the tabloids would have a field day if they got photos of the kids of the two most known rivals dipping in some public indecency.

You nod. “We should go somewhere more private” you repeat, not bothering to pull away from him, not like he tried to put some space between you anyway.

“Your place or mine?” He asks, lips barely brushing yours.

“Yours is closer” you say, and he nods with a fervor you haven't seen from the laid back boy before.

That's all the argument needs before separating from you, pulling you by your arm along with him, surfing to the crowd of people, greeting the ones you know who are not that shocked of your alliance, already used by you two being together in these events.

The ride to his house is tense, to say the least. His chauffeur is trying to ignore the tension that crowds the backseat. Even if you try to disguise it, it's dense enough to cut with a knife, even more once his hand drapes itself across your thigh, caressing it ever so lightly. You try to act unbothered, but all that act gets thrown out the window once his hand cradles your cheek, pulling you in another kiss.

It feels like an eternity, even if it wast more than a few minutes. The elevator ride even worse, given the eagerness Brian had to press you against the mirrored wall, barely waiting for the doors to fully close. Heir to such an empire only meant he had to be at the top, so he made sure to entertain himself with you during the ride.

The familiar ping is enough to make you pull apart, bruised lips and flustered expressions. Brian wastes no time before hosting you up over his shoulder, deciding that carrying you would be more effective to finally getting you on his bed than playing house tour.

“Such a nice view” you comment from your very privileged positions. Its not every day you get one of the hottest guys in town basically manhandle you.

“I can give you a better one” he comments once he finally throws you on his bed, wasting no time before getting between your legs, already working on discarding his shirt and tie.

Something told you you were in for a long night.

You remember the next morning as clear as if it was yesterday. How you had woken up with his arms wrapped around you, and how you had slipped out of them, hastily getting dressed while you texted your chauffeur to pick you up, lying about your whereabouts. You lose no time before making your quiet disappearance, excusing last night to yourself as a slip, a mistake.

You don't bring it up, neither does he. But you both remember very vividly the things that happened in between champagne glasses and cheap cigarettes. By the next party nothing has changed, still acting as if it had meant nothing, even if, unknown to both of you, it was the only thing that occupied each others mind.

You are acutely aware of his presence from the moment you walk into the ballroom, his eyes following your every move. This time, you meet up in his family house, for whatever reason they decided to throw a party this time, probably raising funds for some weird animal that was hellbent on dying or whatever natural disaster had occurred. It has been around a month since that last party, the marks he had left on your skin had now almost faded, now being faint bruises that you can barely notice.

You can feel his gaze following you everywhere, and you guess it's only a matter of time until you will have to actually interact with him. It is an expectation as people of the high society, to act cordially even if you should hate each other, yet you don't plan on going down without a fight.

You have always been good at the cat and mouse game. Scurrying away between butlers, partners and mere attendees become the main activity of the night. You make it past midnight before you make the one mistake that costs you your streak. A sharp turn and its over.

You should have guessed that they would be here, after all, they were as important as any of you. Sons of successful entrepreneurs and diplomats, you had known them for years, first as sons of colleges of your father, then as Brian's friends. Through the years these roles changed, some appearing in your college classes, some dating your own royal blooded friends, but relationships were formed and there was no way of getting out of this one, even if you knew certain someone would definitely use it for his advantage.

Kamden and Jiho do look grateful to see you, the later having just arrived from a semester abroad (and probably more interested on the information he could get form you about his ex), while Kamden just was grateful to see someone who wouldn't try to pressure him to date his daughter.

Catching up with them was always a good time, as they had a repertoire of all the crazy stunts they had pulled at events like this during the years. But you know its just a matter of time before the inevitable happens.

A hand on your waist, squeezing slightly. His chest brushing on your back, the way he enters the conversation so normally and the way he effortlessly gets rid of his friends, as if telepathically telling them he wanted you all to himself. In just a few minutes, he had successfully whisked you away and gotten you all to himself.

"You have been ignoring me" he says as soon as he gets to turn you around, staring straight into your eyes. The way he had grown through the years, now towering over you, made you go slightly insane.

"I have been busy" you lie, even if not even yourself believed it. his face alone tells you he neither does.

"Busy doing what" he inquires, thumbs rubbing on the naked skin of you back with the sole purpose of make you fluster.

"Things" you try to sound convincing, as if you hadn't spent every waking moment replaying the way his lips felt on yours. You try to play his game, your fingers fidgeting with the collar of his dress shirt.

"Yeah, ignoring me" he mocks, a playful smile on his lips, the same ones you wanted to kiss oh so bad right now, even if you would never even tell him.

"I wasn't ignoring you!" you complain, pushing his chest playfully. "I just had to do some back to school shopping, i guess"

"Right, cause I'm sure you needed another bag" he teases..

"I did! and some new shoes. I needed to find a pair that matched the dress" you whine, partially lying. Sure, you did need some new shoes, but that wasn't the reason you didn't answer his texts. "your mother wouldn't forgive me if i showed up with mismatched shoes"

"What a crime that would be" he says, leaning even closer, his breath fanning against the shell of your ear "but I think this dress would look better on my bed, or on the floor next to it"

"Don't be so crass" you try to sound unaffected by his proposal, even if you were highly considering a rematch of last times game.

"That wasn't what you said last time"

"I was drunk"

"You weren't. I know you can handle your liquor, and I know how you act when drunk" dammit. he got you there.

"Ugh, it was a mistake" you groan, hiding your head on his shoulder, not wanting him to see your flustered state.

Brian decides to ignore that comment, even if it makes his heart pang. Hes preoccupied with tracing the curve of your back as if memorizing it. He knows how this will go, you will act all high and mighty, on how this shouldn't have happened, but at the end of the night you will find yourself in his arms once again, questioning how. But he is willing to let you until you realize that is your rightful place after all.

The morning feels off, the sunlight hitting your face too directly for your bed that doesn't face the window. Your mattress too soft and too hard, your pillow oddly muscular. Oh.

Oh.

How you had ended up in here now a real mystery, you didn't have the easiness of the balcony to have an easy justification for your actions.

Later you will find the texts, the calls, directions and code, even if you will never acknowledge the way it was you who texted first, even if Brian didn't show an ounce of resistance.

For once, you don't even try to get up, basking in the feeling of the sun on your skin, its not until you feel his burning stare that you realize your company had awakened.

"Morning" Brian croaks, throat dry.

"Good morning" you say, turning to fully look at him. You missed out on this the first time, his sleepy eyes and messy hair, a domesticity to it all that made you sick to your stomach, or more accurately, made you feel butterflies about it.

"Didn't run away this time"

"Had to stick around for the breakfast part of airbnb" you joke, earning a small chuckle form the boy, who props himself on his arms to look at you, naked chest now in display for you to say the arduous job you did last night, your cheeks heating up at the extent of your work, deep purple marks following his collarbones and down his chest.

"Don't get all shy on me now" he teases, his hand coming to caress what you assume are your matching marks.

"You are shameless" you say, covering yourself up with the sheets.

"That wasn't what you said last night, it was more like "you are so big", "harder"" he mocks, whiny voice and all.

"oh shut up" you defend yourself, smacking him with a pillow. He wasn't off with his imitation, you guessed, but you wouldn't tolerate such disrespect so early in the morning.

You decide its time to get up, throwing on the first thing you found (one of his band tees) before heading to the kitchen. If you were going to talk about whatever relationship you two had, you needed at least a little of caffeine in your system.

Brian lets his eyes follow your every move, taking in the way you act as if you lived here. It feels odd, seeing you in such a casual manner. He wouldn't mind doing it more often.

Things do not get discussed at breakfast, once again you two act as if nothing had happened, like this was the most common of the occurrences, yet you can feel Brian's eyes digging on the side of your face, as if making sure you were real, and there. You act as if you don't notice, preferring to ask about trivial things, like how his sister was doing and his moms plants.

You leave before lunch, having overstayed your welcome, you wrongly guess, since Brian would let you stay as long as you wanted. You take a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie, your dress way too luxurious for the uber drive you are about to make, your walk of shame already too scandalous for you to add a siren cut to it.

You were grateful at Brian for letting his place be the meeting point, your apartment way too crowded with your other roommate for you to bring a guy over, even less someone as known as him. The less they know the better, they say, but you could only hide it so much if you kept appearing well past the morning hours dressed in his clothes. Sure, they bought the idea of it being a random hookup, but you would need to be way more careful if you wanted to keep this going.

What were you even saying, this was a mistake to begin with.

Fridays were for the girls.

Ever since you had moved out your parents house, you had been rooming with Yizhuo, whose family, under your parents recommendation, had decided to ship her across the world to "further her education" and honestly she couldn't have been more grateful.

You liked her, but hadn't seen her enough for her to be the first choice when it came to rooming with someone, yet your parents were (very) adamant for you to be the guide and savior of this poor foreign girl. Now, you were grateful of having furthered your relationship with the girl, considering your bestest friend.

That all leads to tonight, another Friday night at your own place, deciding that staying in and ordering takeout was a better experience than venturing out in the rain.

"I talked with Kamden the other day" Yizhuo comments, mindlessly taking a sip of wine. You can feel her stare on you, as if waiting on your reaction.

"And? hows he doing?" you ask, more interested in finding a decent rom com on Netflix, which is a harder task than one would think.

"Fine, he told me something interesting tho" she says, your ears perking up at the comment "said you and Brian were awfully cozy during the last party."

Shit. now that was a reminder that you had left the boy on delivered a few hours ago, and maybe you should get to that later, the conversations now awkward. What do you tell her, do you accept it? do you tell her you slept over not once but twice? even played house while making breakfast?

"I told him there was no way, since you were seeing someone else" she adds, and the sigh you let out may have given you away on its own "you will have to tell me at some point who is the mystery man"

"I will get to it, I guess" you mumble, your heart racing out of your chest as you press play on the first movie you can find. That was a close one.

"We should be more careful" its the first thing you say to Brian. Well, that's after he basically devours your mouth against the wall once again the elevator, once again being a poor bystander to your crimes.

He hums, entertaining himself with trailing kisses down your neck. "I'm serious" you add, even if you make no effort to stop his ministrations. Hell, you even let your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him impossible closer.

"Where is this coming from?"

"Kamden told Ning that we were too close last party"

"And?" he says, still not giving up. You wish he would stop just to let you gather your thoughts, the feeling of his lips on your skin barely let you form a word.

"They will get the wrong idea" you try to sound authoritarian, failing miserably.

"Or the right one, we are sleeping together" he says, matter of factly.

"No we aren't" the deadpan look he gives you makes you stifle a chuckle. "Okay, we are. but they don't need to know that"

"Then you need to stop looking so good at the galas"

"And wear what? a tunic and a habit?"

"Well yeah, for starters."

and with that joking answer, or at least you hope, the doors to his penthouse open. The conversation long forgotten as the race to get on his bed starts once again.

Another morning on Brian's apartment, another time you didn't make the scape. You could have, since the guy slept like a trunk, could have gotten dressed, in your own clothes, since for the first time there wasn't a fancy gala and alcohol in the middle, just a now shameful text of you up. You could have just ran away, but you didn't want to.

You chose to put on his shirt, you chose to start making the coffee and dissociate staring out the window. Why had you chosen to send that text to him out of all people a mystery, you had to lie to Yizhuo, well, was it a lie or just a half truth? you were seeing a guy, you just didn't specify who.

Your monologue gets cut off once you feel the now familiar warmth drape himself over you, mumbling a good morning as his face hides in your neck. Brian had never been a morning person, so you appreciate the effort of him getting up for you.

You hated how uni sometimes felt so close (spiritually) to high school, everyone moved withing their same circles and classes and sometimes, as the years went on and people dropped out, the circles became smaller smaller, the tea hitting closer to home. And if there was something worse than gossip, was rich peoples gossip. You could guess it could be worse than teenagers sometimes.

You find yourself in the bathroom, hoarding a stall in between classes while you waited for any of your friends to be done with them when you heard it.

"I heard he left with some girl the last galas" you hear one random girl tell her friend in a hushed manner, as if she was telling a confidential matter, not just some stupid gossip.

"Did you get invited?" the other one asked, as if it was the most unachievable thing and not a regular obligation to half of the population of the uni.

"As if? there's no way to just getting an invite to the He's galas, its a generational ordeal" shit. The last gala the hes held had been one you attended, and the one you left with him. Double shit if they where talking about him. Chances were they weren't, a bunch of your classmates did attend that party, so the odds should play in your favor. "My boyfriend told me he saw them enter his building, but he couldn't make out who the girl was" she informs her now way more invested friend.

"And what was your boyfriend doing there?"

"He lives there silly!" and with that they were gone, chatting about who this mystery girl might be, unaware that she was huddled in the stall behind them, suddenly scared for her life.

"You look like you have seen a ghost." Minjeong tells you, taking a sip of her overpriced under prepared matcha latte.

"I just heard gossip about me in the bathroom" you confess. You had met her during your first year of uni, and since then you had looked up to her as some kind of older sister, always coming to her when you needed advice.

"Real or fake gossip" she asks, going for the neck. She never was one to sugar coat things.

"It was real but they don't know it was me" you say, diving in your bag for a much needed cig. An espresso wasn't just gonna cut it.

"So then there's no gossip of you, as long as you don't own it, its false" she says, offering one of her own "And if it keeps coming back just say his dick was small and he was a bad fuck"

Sundays during the semester were strictly reserved to lunch with your family. It had been a thing ever since you had memory with the distinction that yours wasn't a family get together where everyone catches up and has a good time. it was more like a business meeting meets casual lunch at the club house.

You make honor to your title as the disappointment, perfectly managing to always join late and hangover. You had a personal vendetta against this kind of meet ups, defender of the idea that anything your mom had to inform you could be said over email and didn't need to drive one hour to the club house just to be told how disappointing you were, once again. And how much of a role model your brother is, to which you can only small and nod and roll your eyes as soon as she turns her attention towards the light of her eyes, whom also seems to be violently suffering this whole ordeal.

Around tea time you tend to be free, scurrying away to enjoy smoking with your brother as you walk around the park, now actually updating about whatever is going on in your lives.

Today was just like every Sunday; you did try, and failed to arrive on time, your mom had little to say beside a disproving stare. Lunch was good, but you were craving something more like a greasy burger than the smallest salad known to man. You make the mental point to stop at a drive thru on the way back.

"You should try to get someone in your life dear" your mother says, passive aggressively stirring her coffee. "you aren't getting any younger"

"Being under twenty five makes me plenty of young actually. Not like others" you say, earning a playful scolding from your brother.

"If you plan on being single for the rest of your life, sure sweetie. But the clock is ticking anyways" she says. "Besides there are many great matches available"

"Yeah sure" you laugh, not so kindly remembering the parade of finance bros nepo babies they had tried to play cupid with during the galas. More particularly you remember how Brian had mocked them from behind, before trying to whisk you away (and succeeding).

"Well there's always the Lee's son, he is allegedly engaged but that's something we can fix" she comments, and you don't know if its worse the home wrecking or the buying you a boyfriend "but you get along with the He guy just fine, you could ask him for a match" she adds as an afterthought, and you have to restrain yourself from rolling your eyes at the disgust with which she says his name.

There it was, you could feel the heat rising to your face, there was no way they out of all people knew, but just the mere comment made you wish the earth swallowed you.

"I don't know, ma. We are just friends, isn't it something weird to just ask for"

"Well see, you get along just fine! you can ask him to set you up, the Na's are also a good family and they have not one but two sons for you to choose from" she comments, completely disregarding your feelings once again, and the stare you throw your brother is enough for him to meddle in, changing the subject to the girl he's seeing.

Studying at the library was just as common as sleeping over at Brian's apartment by now, in the category of occurrence that happened way more often that you would like even if you tried to fight against it. The fact that was a comparison you could make made your stomach churn.

You really tried to go against it, yet something about skipping the eternal lectures just to hide between bookcases and spend hours revising materials and flipping through editorials made more sense in your opinion, being a more productive use of time. Sometimes your friends joined, sometimes you stayed alone, for hours on end your silhouette could be seen thru the glass panels, you don't know when he notices your little habit, or when he decides he should become a part of it, his presence now a constant. Brian had wormed his way into the routines, appearing with coffee, food or whatever you needed, it almost seemed like he could read your mind.

You didn't mind him joining. You did enjoy his company after all, even if you tried to make it seem like you barely tolerated him at times, you both knew the truth.

"How long have you been here" he asks, after the second time he refills your coffee cup, taking a trip to the stand outside the library.

"A few hours" you mumble, submerged in your essay. It wasn't a lie, just omission of information, if anyone cared.

"A few hours since lunch or a few hours since breakfast?" he asks again, this time his tone a little more accusatory.

"… since breakfast" you comment, still not daring to look up from the screen. The corner of your eye allowed you to see the annoyed stare he shot your way. "but I had some snacks in between"

"Okay, we are getting lunch" he says, starting to collect your own things that had scrambled all over the table by now.

"Let me just finish this paragraph" you object, to which you just receive his hand closing the laptop for you, much to your annoyance.

"You literally just said you still have a week to turn that in" he says, strategically pulling the computer away from you, saving it in its case "a week you wont be here for if you keep skipping meals."

"You are so dramatic" you say, narrowing your eyes at the guy while not even trying to fight it, letting him do the work for you. If he was gonna force you to leave your work in the middle the least he could do was help you pick up.

"you are so dramatic" he retorts, mocking the tone in your voice, that's enough for you to finally stand up, just to hit him on the shoulder at the insult.

You put on your jacket, before heading to the door of the study room. Brian makes use of the last minute of privacy, pressing his lips against yours. A fleeting thing, almost unnoticeable. You think that of you had blinked,you probably would have missed it

Its oddly more private that all the times you had basically devoured each other, more meaningful than all the mornings on his bed, yet way more ephemeral, fleeting.

Even less once the door opens, and you are back to square one, where you both act like you barely know each other.

"So, what are you doing this weekend" he asks, shoveling a piece of lettuce unto his mouth, courtesy of the cafeteria salad.

"I don't know, i owe the girl a hangout"

"Do you want to do something together" he questions, easygoing, light, normal. And you know how he means it. Not in a secrets lovers kind of way, scurrying away and defiling each other in private. But in a couple kind of way, who have lunch together and kiss each other in the library, and that thought scares you.

So you cough, trying to disguise the blush on your cheeks, and you come up with some excuse, owing the girls, whom you haven't really seen in a while, a vile lie since you live with one of them and the exams next week, not really making sense. He hums, and you like to believe he buys your excuses, you even say you can do something next weekend, just to add salt to his wounds, it seems.

"And I don't know, I just think he's taking this way more serious than I am" you say as you finish painting your nails, having used the opportunity to vent to Minjeong once again. You really needed to start paying her if you were going to keep using her as a psychiatrist.

"I don't get why you don't want more with this guy? he seems nice and you couldn't even give him the hour of the day if you didn't like him" she comments, and you hate how right she was. You did like him, and that was what scared you.

"I don't know, i just- i think its weird to, like, picture us together." you comment

"What? like hes a dealer?" she asks.

"God no! he is from a good family. I wouldn't steep that low." you defend your (and his) honor.

"He still can be a dealer, or one of those nepo babies with countless dui's" she half jokes, still trying to find out more about the mysterious man, probably mentally playing a guess who game of all the available bachelors of age.

"I don't know- I think I prefer the privacy" you say, between blowing your fresh nails "you know how everyone gets when one of us gets a partner"

Of us. An odd sense of belonging that most of the high class children, now not so child like had about the group. Most didn't actually like each other, forced to spend time in countless galas, charities and diverse events, competing for the same spots, just so many vacancies available for the amount of nepo babies. But between all of that animosity, a sense of understanding came, the constant pressure, the high standards, your name splayed across tabloids from the moment you could speak. Random accounts idolizing you, calling you an icon just to hate you next month, shit happens, in a level your working friends class wouldn't understand, the same way you don't understand their mundane problems. So that's were this alliance comes from, the need to have someone who understands you.

"You are right, besides if you think he wouldn't fit- you would be correct" she comments, no malice behind it, just a fact. and you wish you could correct her, about how he actually would match the high standards of your life, just because he already was there, smiling down at you in all the possible senses.

Overworking and overthinking is a lethal combo, you think. And what better way to fix that that getting wasted with your favorite girls and clubbing in the most exclusive parties. You never were one for healthy coping mechanisms after all.

It all starts from the pregame, barely eating just so you can almost start day drinking with how early the expensive drinks started appearing on the table. You are still discussing what you are going to wear, different dresses and tops and matching sets spawning on your bed.

An annoying ding, the different one, that you would never admit you had set for Brian of all people, decides to make itself known. You can barely contain the blush on your cheeks as Minjeong and Yizhuo throw teasing glances at you, eyebrows wiggling and all.

brian he: i miss you

Its a stupid text, you think. Its not the kind you send to your barely friends mostly benefits deal. Its the kind you send your boyfriend or girlfriend, not the girl you casually fuck, and that makes your blood boil.

So you decide to ignore it. You won't deal with this today, tonight, nor tomorrow. Maybe the next week if you feel like it. Which probably wont be anytime soon.

You try to ignore it, really, the ache in your chest and how your mind wanders to the same canadian boy over and over again. The story you post serves as a distraction, until his like makes his presence wonder once again to your mind.

"Problems in paradise?" Minjeong teases, when you huff at the phone screen for what must be the tenth time of the night.

"Something like that" you say, staring at the annoying emoji reaction he had sent before throwing the phone on the couch. You were too grown for this bullshit, anyway.

It was a good fucking night to be at the club. The DJ was good, the girls were having fun and the guys from the table next to you seemed like they couldn't stop sending you things. It was a shame, really, that the overpriced champagne bottles wouldn't really cause an impression on any of you, but they were cute enough for you to at least play the part.

And you should feel bad, dancing with them while your mind wandered off. Even worse when your mind wandered off to him. Brian. Who probably was home alone, or maybe he had company. Maybe it was the guys, maybe one of his siblings. Or maybe he could also be making good use of the night, spending it with another girl.

That thought made your blood boil. Who did you think you were to be getting mad at hypothetic girls that didn't exist fucking not your situationship even less your boyfriend. With what right?

To make it worse, you knew that he probably was playing call of duty in rotting his room. But that didn't stop your mind from running around.

And you tried to tell yourself that it meant nothing, talking with a guy sculpted by adonis himself just to want to call Brian of all people. That it wasn't a tell tale sign of you being falling for the guy you swore to not let yourself get caught with, the one you acted like you hated for years- yet here you were, missing him. So you allow yourself one slip, one mistake.

y/n: i miss you come pick me up?

He finds you infuriating, really. Brian still couldn't understand why he still was so hung up over you, out of all the women in his life, the one he could barely tolerate while growing up was now haunting his dreams. It seemed like a bad joke.

He still remembered how annoying he found you at thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, all the teens, albeit he now questioned whether that was all misplaced anger, confusing desire for hated. He always had a soft spot of some sort for you, only intensifying when you suddenly hit it off past your legality. Sure you always hang out at galas, but it took both of you becoming actual adults and getting out of high school to consider being somewhat friends, even if you still only meet up at galas. You were one for tradition.

He doesn't know when all of that derailed into coming to pick you up form the club, where, for once in his life, he feels underdressed. He was in a zip up and sweats, having just rolled out of bed. A stark contrast to your heels and mini dress, the same one that drove him insane on your stories, not that he would tell you.

It didn't seem to matter to you, wasting no time from the moment that passenger door close to press your lips to his. You tasted like alcohol and the expensive cigarettes you liked, but felt like heaven. He has to really contain himself from just pulling over, the idea of someone catching you mid indecency in a public area haunting enough for him to drive all the way home, finding solace in his hand on your thigh, rubbing mindless circles over it.

"My house is closer" you comment in between the kisses you were pressing against his neck. It truly seemed like you were dead set on driving him insane tonight.

He doesn't know whats worse, the level of neediness you exude, result of either the amount of alcohol you consumed or maybe your interactions with other guys (idea he doesn't want to entertain), or the fact that for the first time since you started this arrangement, you actually invited him to your house.

From the first time in his penthouse, it always was his bed the witness to your meets ups. The agreement was his house since he lived alone, and you felt like it was better to not have one unwilling witness to your relationship who also wasn't particularly the best at keeping secrets. The less they know the better, right?

"Yizhuo is not coming back tonight" you add, biting his lobe. You always had a knack of seeing how far you can push it, "we have the house all to ourselves"

Now those were the magic words if you asked Brian.

You were playing with fire and you know it. Bringing him home already was a risky move, letting him stay over was simply stupid.

The light entering thru the window painted simple patterns on the naked expense of his back, tempting enough for you to trace it, feeling the muscle tense under your touch.

"g'morning" Brian mumbles, turning around as he finally awakes.

"morning handsome" you say, gently caressing through his bed head. "wanna stay over for breakfast?"

If falling for you was a foolish, starting to love you was plainly stupid, Brian thinks. yet he does nothing to try to stop the house of cards of tumbling down.

"Tell your little boy toy he left his shirt here," she says, entering the living room as she throws the piece of fabric at you. "balenciaga, he has good taste"

"Thanks, I know how to choose them" you comment trying to seem nonchalant. After what had happened, and the debauchery that your couch had witnessed, you might have forgotten to pick up the shirt, probably thrown around whenever it could land.

Yet something about it had bugged you way more than a stupid balenciaga shirt should. Since when were you the girl who brought guys over and made them breakfast? you weren't the one that looked forward for texts or signals of life from your partners, you don't chase, you attract, as Minjeong would say. And you followed that down to a t, so why now whit Brian of all people it was different all of the sudden? and why the idea of everyone knowing made your stomach twist in the worst way?

[him being like would it be so bad for them to know]

You had been ignoring him, and Brian knew it. Barely answering his texts, changing your usual routes in campus just to not see him, you even turned around after seeing him in the hallway, an empty one at that too.

Brian doesn't know what he did wrong, truly. He gave you all the space when you wanted, all the love when you needed it, yet it seemed like it would never be enough for you to fully trust him. You take one step forward and three back. Every small advance comes with its draw back and this time it feels to him like hes in the verge of being cut off.

And hes mad that he cares. You never tried to meet halfway. You are selfish by nature, self centered thru and through. You never cared how he felt besides pleasure.

With that train of thought, he comes across you where he least expected it, even if based in past meets he should have expected. Sitting in the library in the same spot where he had kissed you that one time, an odd memory if you asked him, slightly soured over his changing feelings on the subject.

You act friendly when he sits across you, acting as if nothing had happened. Light topics like when is the next gala that his parents host on having to go to the club house for lunch once again.

"So yeah,shes still on the getting me a boyfriend boat" you comment mindlessly about your mom, a character Brian knew not that much, something he was incredibly grateful for.

"Would it be that bad?" he asks before he can think of the consequences this question would have on your relationship. "For them to know you are dating someone, I mean"

He tries to play it as a hypothetical question, but you both know the truth behind those words. Hes asking why you haven't considered to date him, if you had done everything but that. how much can a mere title change? it's just a word after all.

But that word scares you shitless. Not only the word but the meaning behind it too. Behind close doors everything is easy, you can play house and act as if anything would be alright. the reality outside of those four walls, of the expectations your family and adjacent had on both of you would, in your mind, kill every little thing you two shared. You heard the comments his mom said about other girls, way too similar to you, and you knew your own family like the palm of your hand, literally. You knew how the blogs based on nepo babies and new riches acted when dating rumors started, how every little thing become a reason to be scrutinized.

And honestly, it just scares you how much you had come to rely on Brian after all this time, his presence now a constant that played a crucial role in your life.

So you answer a meek "I'm not looking to date right now" and hope that it doesn't come back to bite you in the ass.

You had screwed up, and you knew it. You knew that you and Brian never had the no-strings attached you two acted like you had. you were on a thin line when you kissed on the library and already falling when you invited him over, even if he screwed first when he picked you up, not that it mattered who was first when now you weren't on speaking terms. And to make matters worse, it was Sunday, which meant having lunch with your family once again.

You tried, truly, to have a good time. they were your family after all, and you wouldn't change them for the world, even if you threatened to. But the sigh you let out when your mother brought once again the topic of your love life made it clear you were, once again, over the situation.

"I just think you need some boy in your life. It gets lonely after some time." she comments when you ask the need to discuss your dating habits once again.

"I have friends, ma. I have the girls, my roomie, Brian" you list, trying to hide the way your throat threatens to close once the last name leaves your mouth, you regret it before you even finish saying it.

"Right, Brian. You should ask him to set you up with someone. We couldn't be a good pair with the He's, but the Choi's are a nice family" She starts one of her rants again, and you know you have at least fifteen minutes before she even acknowledges you as your own person amid her rant.

Across the table, your brother signals you to look at your phone.

bro: you are screwing him, arent you?

its written all over your face

And with that you leave the table to catch some air, not even bothering to hide the cigarette pack as you abandon your sit. At least, next time she will have something else to scold you over instead of your failed situationship.

Another charity event, another gala. You hadn't seen your brother, or anyone of that sphere, since that catastrophic dinner. Suddenly you had became hyper aware if every person you ever came across knew. Why hadn't they said anything ? or did they just not say anything to you?

You tried to get out of going, even inventing exams to see if your parents ever so cordially would let you skip. You acted as if you didn't have clothes to wear, only to receive a perfectly sized dress and matching heels with a threatening note on top of it. You even got a makeup artist sent to pull you out from your post situationship hell, making you look more than decent.

That's how you end up there, trailing awkwardly after your parents, your brother, whom should be playing your savior tonight nowhere to be seen, and him, across the place, acting as if you didn't exist. You never felt like crying like this.

You make excuses, going to hide behind the fancy food and beverages to see if you can get anyone to save you.

"Problems in paradise?" you hear a voice question from behind you. Kamden was standing there, nursing a champagne glass, looking just as in place as you did. "you don't look so good"

"Thanks, I tried' you half joke, greeting the older guy "and no, everything is fine"

"Considering I am actually seeing you and you are not hiding god knows where with Brian, its pretty obvious it's not." Obvious. How you started to hate that word and every sentence it was used.

"I don't know what you are talking about" you have always been a terrible liar, and this one was only reclaiming that throne for you.

"So it's just a coincidence Brian has been mopping around for the last weeks, and you just happen to look so miserable?" Had you been at any other place, you probably would have sent Kamden to hell and back, but the circumstances didn't help your case.

"Isn't life so strange?" you say, fake smile and all, and you can physically feel the way his eyes roll.

"What it's strange is why you are so scared of being with him"

"I don't know what you are talking about"

"I had actually came to cuss you out, because you were a bitch and broke my friends heart" he starts, "but I somehow care for you, and know you enough to see you are also hurting, so it would be really cool if you could get your act together and grow up, or you will live the rest of your life based on what others would think. The guy has adored the ground you walked on ever since he has had a memory, and you still cant see it."

You stare at the usually quiet guy shocked. You don't think you could recall a time where you had heard him say so many words, being left speechless at his sudden outburst.

"I think he already left" he informs you, stirring around his cup as he looks around "but I wouldn't let that stop me if you actually want a chance"

You don't think you had ever ran this much since you took the cooper test back in high school. Even that was easier that trying to go down the stairs in five inch heels. You really were cussing out your stylist once you finally make it outside, your ankles barely making it alive.

You see the valet guy, and you make the math on how long you would have to wait for your chauffeur to get here, them to find the keys, the car and finally leave. You needed to get there fast, so you opt for the unimaginable. A cab.

You tell the old man driving the address, and stare out of the window of the cigar smelling vehicle. Should you call him? whats the protocol for races against time to declare your feelings to the presuming love of your life? you didn't know, and you hope you don't have to go thru this again.

Before you know it, you are standing outside his apartment, after paying probably the most over priced taxi fee in the story of the city. It seemed irrelevant in this circumstances.

The elevator ride seems eternal, giving you time to rethink all of the times you were here before. Its an odd feeling, you realize, replaying every time you were here, kissing him, chatting, going to get the take out you had delivered for those times it was more about company than other things. You miss it all, you realize. even the moments where he makes you so mad you want to tear him apart. Because its with him you are, and you wouldn't change him for the world.

The elevator dings, and the door opens. You are standing in front of your last obstacle. His apartment door. and you know the code, but you don't know if its fitting to just open it, act as if nothing had happened. It doesn't feel right. So you do something you don't think you have ever done in this situation.

You ring the bell.

And wait.

You hear him cuss out, his steps getting closer, his voice asking who even is out there at this hour.

"It's me" is the only thing that you can think to say, would he even recognize your voice thru the door? does he even want to see you now? or ever?

You can feel the doubt on the other side of the door. Or maybe that's what you convince yourself to make you feel better about him not wanting to see you. You turn around, defeated, deciding to retire yourself. You never where one to stay where you weren't welcomed anyways.

The door opens, and you see him. His hair slightly disheveled, even if it holds a resemblance to his styled version from earlier. His shirt now all wrinkled,his tux and tie nowhere to be seen. His face is unreadable, and that makes you worry.

"What do you want" he asks, his tone more pungent than you ever can recall him speaking to you.

"You" and the sigh he lets out let you know you probably could have worded that a hundred times better " -wait! not like that, or yes. I don't know, can we just, talk?" you ramble, wanting to slap yourself from the pitiful performance you were giving.

Brian reluctantly agrees, letting you in. You cant help but think how similar this is to that first night.

"What do you want to talk about" he asks, even if both of you knew the answer to that question.

"Us" you say, and Brian thinks that might be the most honest answer he ever got out of you.

"There is no us" that answer kicks the air out of your lungs even if you knew he was right, technically.

"There is, and everyone knows" you say, and you can see how his face falls even more after your comment.

"Was that the problem? that everyone knows you were with me?" he asks, annoyed. "i think its best if you leave"

"Not that everyone knows, it's that it doesn't matter"

"You are annoyed cause no one cares if we fucked?" Brian reiterates, "I don't know why you thought it was a good idea to come here to tell me this. We shouldn't be seeing each other anymore"

"God you are so obstinate" you sigh, making Brian shoot you a questioning look. You nervously run your hands thru your hair before adding "I don't care if what they think. Cause i want to be with you. and whatever opinion they have its not important if they think this isn't right."

Brian looks at you dumbfounded. He doesn't know what you might have gone during this weeks you didn't talk for you to finally understand that, but hes thanking to the lords above and everything in between.

"So I don't know if you still want me. But I couldn't let you go without at least trying" You say, bunching up the absurdly long dress you had on, way too ridiculous for the situation, as you turn to head out. "I just hope we can still be friends"

"You are so infuriating" Brian says, breaking the awkward silence that had settled, walking towards you, almost in a predatory manner. "You have a way of pissing me off in all the right ways"

"It's a talent" you joke meekly, not really knowing where he was going with all this.

"And you make sure to use it" he says, pressing his lips to yours, finally after how long. and all you can think is just how much you missed this, missed him. His body against you, the way his lips felt, the sounds he made. And the fact that it was Brian whom you got to do this with. not some random at the club, not someone your mother picked. But someone who choose you as much as you choose them. And there is something satisfactory about that.

Once again, the sun shines across the room, and you are disoriented for a brief period of time. this aren't your sheets nor bed, and this is definitely not your pillow. yet you don't complain, cuddling towards the chest of the boy laying besides you. You missed this too, after all.

And he seems to agree, pulling you impossible closer, his arm resting across your naked back, enjoying tracing idle patterns on the skin.

"good morning" he mumbles, voice rough from his sleeping. You can see the traces of last night activities, reddened skin, bruised lips, placid look on his eyes, the afterglow if one will. you allow yourself to enjoy it, pressing a fleeting kiss to his lips.

"morning handsome" you say, getting even more comfortable on the naked expanse of his chest, as if trying to become one.

"Should we go have breakfast?"

"There's no hurry, we have all day" you say, hiding your face against his neck, as if you needed to convince him.

Those words replay on Brian's mind. we have all day. For the first time in your relationship, there wasn't a place for you to be, somewhere you were arriving late for, or his apartment being somewhere you couldn't be seen, cause you were his now, and there was no sense in hiding it anymore.

bonus:

Next Sunday, another lunch at the club house. Your mother was infuriated with you, disappearing from the last gala, even abandoning your car there, to go god knows where. You know how much of a bad impression that left in the guest and hosts? you always were such an insolent brat. Those were the texts you had the delight of reading to Brian the morning after, once you actually made it out of bed. He found them hilarious, obviously, and planted the idea of his first appearance as finally your boyfriend.

So here you are now, getting off his sleekest, blackest car in front of the same club you had hated since you had memory. He makes a show for it, enjoying the animosity his presence brings to your family lunch.

You finally make it at the table, arm in arm, selling the idea of way more maturity than someone who had spent yesterday watching cartoon reruns all day. You can see the face of your brother, the first one to see you, as he tries to suppress the laugh when he recognizes the gentleman besides you. Your father, always a chicken, decides to act as if hes above it all. Your mother doesn't have the same decency, face contorting in the funniest manner.

"hello, dear. Long time no see" She greets you, and you just know she doesn't mean it "and what do we owe the honor for your presence, He" the disdain to which he says your boyfriends last name makes you want to slap that customer attention ass smile right out of her face.

"i heard you were looking for a partner for your princess and decided I might be the fittest one for the role. Seems like she agreed anyway" he explains, making you laugh as he throws you a cheeky wink, pulling your chair out so you can sit. "besides, seems like your options were wildly miscalculated, since you know, pretty sure Na Kamden is gay" he adds, throwing a sad smile to your mother.

If you could replay a moment for the rest of your life, this probably would be the one.

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