entp, part time writer, full time fanfic reader, uni student as a hobby.
currently writing for boynextdoor, ampers&one, &team and nct wish :p
works in progress
requests: open
works!!! (and masterlists!!!)
ampers&one
everyone's a star! misc. series
andteam
vicious wang nicholas 0,4k words
★ summary: you always call late at night and he always answers.
the rocks asakura jo 1.6k words
★ summary: in which maybe you are not as alone as you thought. And where the waves don't kill, they crash.
texts w/ roommate! asakura jo smau
part one
boynextdoor
its complicated! park sungho smau completed
The one where, after falling for the guy who works at the music store next door (and doing nothing about it), you decide to move on. Or the one where Sungho finally lets go of his on-again, off-again relationship and decides to try his luck with the pretty girl at the piercing shop. Also, the one where both are morally gray characters.
does your mother know? kim woonhak smau completed
It's your final year at KOZ High School, and unfortunately for you, the play of your dreams premiered last year, so you're stuck doing Mamma Mia!, even though half the seniors aren't keen on the project. Or: It's Woonhak's junior year, and going against most of his principles, he decides to audition for this year's play, more interested in the possibility of getting a chance with you than in landing a lead role.
lngshot
after hours kwon ohyul smau
part one | part two
★ summary: managing the new hottest group in kpop might not be as easy as one might think.
backseat kim ryul smau
part one | part two | part three
★ summary: he thinks you deserve better than the backseat.
nct wish
too much, too little tokuno yushi 9k words
★ summary: All your life you'd been told you were too exhausting, too much. All his life, he'd been told he was too underwhelming, too little. Perhaps there was a balance that had been lost somewhere along the way. Perhaps it would take you a long time to realize it.
texts w/ best friend? kim daeyoung smau
part one | part two
⤷ the fall 3,7k words
★ summary: the five times Jaehee wanted to kiss you, the time he did, and the aftermath.
82major
dislike nam seongmo 1.2k words
★ summary: there's a thin line between love and hate
face time yoon yechan 1.3k words
★ summary: you weren't prepared for what yechan's next song would be about.
telephone busy park seokjoon 1.6k words
★ summary: moving on and changing yourself are things that are usually hard to do, even more when you suddenly want to kiss your bestie.
synopsis: As a camerawoman, it's your job to capture content for AMPERS&ONE. Instead, you somehow capture evidence that one of the members, Brian, is utterly head-over-heels in love with you.
pairing: brian x camerawoman!reader
word count: 2,551 words
content: fluff, reader in denial, brian gets slightly injured, awkward flirting
authors note: he was so cute in the behind-the-scenes for god I just had to write something! likeee that first pic with him on the metal grate oh my goodness he's adorable (♡ω♡ )
playlist: You Are In Love - Taylor Swift, Over The Moon - AMPERS&ONE, Love, Maybe - MeloMance, Every Breath You Take - The Police, Let Me Love You - DAY6, I.L.Y. - The Rose
please consider liking and reblogging if you enjoyed this fic!
When you joined AMPERS&ONE's content team, you were determined to not get attached to anyone to make your job easier. Due to the fast-paced industry, the staff come and go constantly, evident as the last person with your current position was only in the team for three months. Professional boundaries exist for a reason, you never know when you'll have to leave. So you take the rule seriously. You show up, film what needs filming, hand in your footage, and go home without ever hanging out with the other staff or idols. A simple, foolproof routine.
Except Brian keeps making it difficult for you.
At first, he's just much easier to work with than other idols. When you're filming behind-the-scenes content, some members get awkward around the camera. Others try too hard to look candid, but Brian somehow knows exactly how to act natural. Whenever you're assigned to AMPERS&ONE, the editors are satisfied with your work because the footage always comes back usable.
The problem is that over time, he starts giving those reactions specifically to you.
Not the camera.
You. Only you.
And the thing is, he wasn't exactly subtle about it. After six months of work, the entire film crew has noticed how Brian would always help you carry equipment, how he would offer you food before he even eats, even going so far to give you his own hand warmers when filming during winter. Despite the teasing you've slowly gotten from your coworkers, you've decided to stick to your rule. No getting attached. So you leave immediately after every shoot, blatantly reject the younger editor who offered to take you out to dinner, and most importantly, distance yourself from Brian as much as possible.
However, this is proven difficult when the two-day filming of their comeback music video begins. You find yourself at the set quite early on the first day of filming, your breath fogging up from the cold weather. As usual, the setup takes up around two hours of the day, so the crew was instructed to arrive at the first location at four in the morning. A few members arrive at around 6:30, and the filming starts with Siyun and Kamden, then Jiho and Mackiah a few hours later.
The director calls for a break after filming a dance break portion at the second location, and you hurriedly head to the group's waiting room to ask the members questions for content. You find Kamden and film him quickly, then head to the corridor to eat lunch. However, your phone pings in your pocket and you sigh in annoyance as you see a message from one of the editors.
Hi! Would it be possible for you to film Brian as well since you're near their break room already? Please ask him which of the other member's parts he'd like to have. Thank you and have a good break!
Good break, my ass. There's twenty minutes before the next portion of filming and you haven't even touched your already cold sandwich. So much for trying to avoid Brian. You sheepishly head back into their waiting room and find him eating lunch beside Jiho while scrolling on his phone. Hesitantly, you clear your throat and pull your camera out.
“Sorry, I was instructed to film you for a bit. I was instructed to ask you which of the member's parts you'd want to have instead of your own,” you mutter as you uncap the lens cover. As usual, he grins up at you eagerly, immediately setting down his phone and chopsticks.
“Sure! That's all you need?”
You nod gratefully and set up the camera properly. The moment you start recording, he stares straight at the lens like he's in love with it, talking enthusiastically about how he’d like Seungmo's part. You have no choice but to cut him off after five minutes of talking, thanking him for his willingness to provide good content for Andears. As you turn to leave, a hand shoots out to gently grasp your shoulder. You turn to face Brian, slightly irritated that your break time is ticking away far too quickly, but your glare immediately softens when you see a plastic bag with a bento and coffee in his free hand.
“You probably haven't eaten yet,” he says while giving you a shy smile.
You immediately break eye contact, staring at the necklace he's wearing instead. “They gave the staff sandwiches, you don't have to give me food-”
“Take it. Or at least the coffee, it's still warm. Please, you've been working for hours. It's cold out and a sandwich isn't enough to give you energy.”
You open your mouth to protest but Brian stops you by shoving the plastic bag into your hands. You thank him quietly and rush out of their break room to finally eat. The plastic bag crinkles loudly as you place it down, prying open the bento box to find piping-hot miso soup, stir-fried beef, and a heaping pile of rice. You scarf down the food as quickly as possible then head back to the set to set up for the next scenes.
An hour later, you set up the camera under the platform for the scene where Siyun has to hit Brian with a prop brick. You watch from the monitor as the music cues and Siyun whacks Brian at the side of his head, the prop brick barely crumbling. Once the director yells cut, Brian stumbles to his feet and walks back to the waiting room, the white debris from the brick still stuck to his hair. You find yourself trailing after him without thinking, too worried to keep distancing yourself. You find him sitting down, a blanket wrapped around him as he winces while brushing the debris away.
You hesitantly walk up to him, trying your best to act unfazed by the pain he's in, muttering softer than you usually sound.
“Are you…okay? Do you need a medic?”
Unsurprisingly, Brian offers a small grin. Despite clearly being in pain, he's prioritizing your feelings, trying to assure you that he's okay. You almost believe him as he speaks in a deep, soothing voice, a voice you’ve always found to be comforting.
“I'm okay. I guess Siyun didn’t realize the prop was that hard. We were both expecting it to crumble immediately, but it was pretty solid. I swear I didn’t get a concussion though, don’t worry.”
You sigh softly, slightly annoyed that he’s trying to pretend that he’s okay. “Sure you don’t need a medic? Or anything else?”
Oh, no. You realize that you’ve worded that badly when Brian lets out a tiny smirk.
“Anything else, huh? Hmm…then I think I deserve a kiss for this. It did hurt a lot, you know.”
A scowl immediately reappears on your face, your earlier concern vanishing. “Absolutely not,” you snapped, trying your best to hide the heat rising up into your cheeks.
Brian laughs at this, a warm, resonant sound that fills the room as his eyes crinkle softly. You realize that you can feel your heartbeat thrumming against your chest, a warm, giddy solace spreading through your body despite the biting cold. The realization jolts you back into reality, and you immediately back away, taking on a professional tone again. You’ve gotten far too close this time. Too dangerous.
You manage to sputter out an excuse to leave, the restraint in your voice evident. “I'll get a medic to check on you. Don't move around too much.”
You scramble out of the room, ignoring the intense desire to hear him laugh again. But as you call over one of the medics, you realize that you can't get that smile out of your head. That angelic, unforgettable smile that somehow never fails to make you feel safe.
The next day, you arrive early at the third set. It's considerably colder than yesterday, but the morning sunlight is somewhat warm enough to keep you from shivering while preparing your camera. The director puts you on standby for the morning, since most of the scenes are simple enough for a few staff to handle. Instead, you find yourself watching from the sidelines as Siyun, Mackiah, and Jiho go through their parts with ease.
By the time the director calls for a lunch break at 1PM, almost everyone is quivering from the winter. You’ve forgotten to wear thicker clothing before leaving the house due to sleepiness, so you head to one of the warmer waiting rooms to eat the food they’ve provided for the staff. The door creaks open after a while and you look up, expecting another staff member, but smile politely as Seungmo enters, holding a paper bag.
“Sorry for intruding,” Seungmo says quietly, “but Brian-hyung told me to find you. He couldn’t give this to you because he’s getting his makeup done so he told me to give it instead.”
You thank Seungmo courteously as he hands the warm paper bag over and leaves quickly. The moment he’s gone, you pry the bag open and find a canister of seaweed soup along with the expensive lunch you know they provide for idols. You find a sticky note on the side of the soup canister after pulling it out, handwriting hastily scribbled but undeniably Brian’s.
We’re both working late today, so please eat well. You need energy, so at least have the soup to stay warm. Be safe.
The same, comforting warmth from yesterday envelops you yet again as your cheeks heat up. He’s been thinking about you even if you haven’t seen each other today.
He’s worried about you.
Only you.
The thought fills you with giddiness as you happily eat the lunch he’s provided you. You’re halfway through the meal when you freeze. The realization that he’s gotten through you, that you’ve been thinking about him hits you.
You’ve gotten attached. Not to a staff member, but to an idol. A man who’s supposed to be unattainable. You realize that you can’t help thinking about the way he’s been looking at you for the past few months, the affection in his gaze from across the various sets you’ve both been to, the memory of his smile permanently fixed in your mind.
Brian is completely, utterly, head-over-heels in love with you. And now, you’ve realized that you feel the same.
After the lunch break, you head to the arena set to help prepare the cameras and lighting again. You watch from one of the monitors as they complete their group dance scenes, then one of the staff hands over the responsibility of the camera rig to you for Seungmo and Brian’s solo parts.
Seungmo’s part flies by quite quickly, only needing one take, then you adjust the angle again while waiting for Brian to prepare for his part. You watch through the camera as their manager shows him what to do, but you can’t help but snicker when he makes direct eye contact with you, grinning widely.
The last scene, a group dance with Kyrell in the middle wraps up the shoot at around 2AM. The director instructs everyone to start packing up immediately, and you forget about Brian for a while, too cold to think about anything else. As you quietly start walking away from the set and pull out your phone to get a ride home, you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“Wait, you’re leaving already?”
You turn around, a stupidly happy expression on your face, then remember that you’re supposed to be distancing yourself and stop, awkwardly clearing your throat instead.
“Ah, yeah. It’s cold and it’s late, so I’m heading straight home. Thank you for the lunch earlier, by the way. You really didn’t have to.”
Brian freezes like he hadn’t expected you to thank him.
“Oh, right. The lunch. That was nothing.”
His hands disappear into his puffer jacket as another chilling gust of wind blows across the now-empty set. The rest of the staff have already left, and Kamden, who was with Brian earlier, is nowhere to be seen. For a moment, neither of you say anything, then you glance away first.
“Well, I should probably get going-”
“Did I do something wrong?”
The remorseful tone in his voice stops you in your tracks. You immediately turn back to face him in confusion.
“What?”
Brian looks around nervously. It's strange seeing him like this. On camera he's confident, playful. Right now he looks like he's about to throw up.
"The past few weeks." He laughs weakly. "You've been avoiding me."
Your stomach drops quickly.
"I swear I wasn't-"
"You were."
His voice isn't accusing. If anything, he sounds guilty. You open your mouth to reply, but nothing comes out. He’s right. You’ve been avoiding him. The smile he gives you is small and despondent.
"I knew it."
"No, Brian, it's not-"
"It is, though."
"Brian, wait-"
"I’m sorry if I creeped you out or something."
The words come out in a rush, like he’s barely thinking before he speaks.
“I just really wanted to impress you but I heard that you aren’t interested in dating, so I’ve been trying my best to get on your good side so we could be friends first. I thought I’d have a chance if we became friends before I tried to make you fall in love with me. Wait, this is all coming out wrong. I just…like you. A lot. I didn't mean to make this so awkward.”
A horrified laugh escapes his lips as you gape at him in surprise, watching as his ears turn red. For several seconds, you can only stare at him. Every excuse you'd made for his actions. Every time you'd convinced yourself you were imagining things. The lunches he’d always give you, the constant offers to help carry things, the way he'd always look for you first whenever they arrived on set. All of it suddenly made sense.
You laugh, completely surprised at the predicament you’ve gotten yourself into. His expression falls immediately.
"Oh. I’m sorry."
"Brian- wait, no." You step forward before he can retreat. "No, no, that's not why I'm laughing. Listen to me for a second, will you?"
Brian looks like he wants the ground to swallow him whole as he snaps back weakly. "Then why are you laughing?"
You cover your face as you feel your cheeks heat up quickly.
"I thought I was imagining everything. I thought you were just trying to be polite, okay? And I wasn’t avoiding you because you creeped me out. I was avoiding you because I like you too."
Brian's mouth actually falls open.
"...What? You like me?”
You immediately regret confessing because now he's smiling. God, you loved that smile.
"Brian."
"You like me."
"Stop repeating it."
"You like me."
You smack his arm playfully and he laughs even louder, pulling you closer. For a second, the two of you just stand there, grinning like idiots in the middle of an empty, freezing parking lot at two in the morning. Then Brian clears his throat awkwardly before speaking.
“So…are you free this Friday?”
The smile that spreads across his face when you nod is worth every second of torment in the winter. And for the first time all night, you don't feel cold at all.
Sungho gets mistaken for a girl at a party and somehow ends up in a love triangle with himself. It’s all Jaehyun’s fault.
MAINS. Sungho & female reader
TROPES. college au, romcom, strangers to lovers
WARNINGS. bisexual mc, accidental feminization (sungho is referred to as she for half of mc’s pov, he’s also jokingly called unnie at one point), drunken antics, bit suggestive?, swear words, overdramatic thoughts about dying
WORDS. 7.1k
NOTES. this came to me after seeing clips from the 260428 hyung-line live, so imagine this hair on sungho in the first scene
There are exactly thirteen steps between the camping table set up for the submarine game and the bathroom. You know because you counted. You might have hesitated a bit between six and seven, giggling to yourself, but you did count thirteen by the time you reached the entrance hall through the corridor lit by fairy lights.
Okay, maybe give or take a few. You were a bit distracted by the music, the lights and trying not to stumble. There’s still a sway in your step when the bathroom door opens suddenly in front of you and you backtrack, the house slipper Jaehyun made everybody wear catching on the edge of a rug. Then the Earth turns on its axis and you feel your balance give out. But before you could spread out like a starfish on the ground and stare at the ceiling (which doesn’t sound half bad right now), a hand catches your elbow and pulls you back.
You blink slowly as the dizziness settles and look up at your savior only to come face-to-face with an angel.
“Are you okay?” She asks with a worried yelp while you’re busy staring. Even the shitty dim lighting of the bathroom that Haewon complained about earlier looks like a halo around her, framing her shoulder-length wavy blonde hair like it was her personal ring lamp. God really has some favourites, huh?
“Wow, you are really pretty!” You blurt out, your brain-to-mouth filter lost sometime after the second somaek you had to drink because you were hopelessly losing against Intak and Junghwan. Really, it’s just your luck that you managed to sink the soju glass twice in a row.
“Thanks?” Blondie shyly giggles and oh gosh, it’s so cute. That’s it, you will die in Jaehyun’s flat, right in the middle of the hall, staining it like a crime scene, all because of a pretty girl. “Uhm… were you about to…”
She trails off, pointing over her shoulders towards the bathroom and momentarily you’re distracted by the collarbone peeking out from under the wide neck tee. Yeah, maybe you did actually fall and hit your head because it feels a bit like heaven.
“Yeah, right,” you shake your head trying to recall why you came to the bathroom in the first place. Then you remember the amount of beer and soju you drank and the dryness of your lips. So you both do a little wiggle wiggle while sharing semi-awkward chuckles with the gorgeous blonde girl to switch places in the narrow space between the bathroom door and the coat hanger spilling over with jackets.
After a total 180 degrees turn, you’re still staring at the white flowers the fairy lights paint on the girl’s face until you realize it might be creepy and mutter thanks before turning towards the mirror. Squinting at the blinking silver glow that comes from the LED rod above the sink, you realize that Haewon was right about the shitty lighting. You try to switch on the ceiling lamp instead but then remember Jaehyun said that the bulb died like a week ago and he was so busy making sure there’s enough food and booze for the party that he forgot to change it. Typical guy behaviour.
“Actually…” You spin around, ignoring the dizziness that comes with it, in favour of catching your savior before she could actually leave. When she looks back in a mix of confusion and curiosity, you also notice that her top is cropped above her jeans. And that her shoulder-to-waist ratio is insane. You need to hold onto the sink behind you. Seriously, where was this hot girl hiding all this time?
“Can you help me?” You wave your purse between you as an indicator but she still looks a bit baffled when she eventually steps back into the bathroom. The door closes behind her with a soft click, leaving the two of you in semi-darkness. A hint of her perfume hits you then, a subtle woody scent, and suddenly you find it harder to breathe. It’s ironic that you have a bunch of guy friends who are popular on campus because of their looks but the only time you malfunction is near pretty girls.
After some struggle fishing it out, somehow you manage to give Blondie your phone with the torch function on and she directs the light towards the mirror wordlessly while you’re busy pulling out your lip products. It’s her who breaks the silence of the small space.
“So how do you know Jaehyun?” She asks, soft-spoken but there’s a lower huskiness in her voice that you find really attractive.
“He is in one of my classes, English Lit. You?” You answer after fixing up the edges with your lip liner.
“We used to live together,” the girl behind you replies matter-of-factly but it piques your interest more than it probably should. You glance at her figure half in the shadows through the mirror.
“Oh. Did you date?” You inquire as you switch to the balm. You hope it sounds like a casual follow-up question despite how sour it tastes in your mouth. Ridiculous. Who cares if they used to date?
“What? No! I… I like girls,” Blondie exclaims, her voice higher now, almost like she can’t believe you even came to that assumption. On the other hand, you’re quite pleased with the new bit of information. Especially because being openly queer is still not easy and her boldness encourages you to do the same.
“That’s cool! Me too! But I like guys too,” you tell her casually because it’s not even the wildest fact you have ever (over)shared in a bathroom. You tend to do that even without the influence of alcohol.
“What do you think?” You ask once you add the finishing touch with the lip gloss and smack your lips together, turning back around.
“It’s pretty,” Blondie says slowly, her cat-like eyes trained on your mouth and satisfaction pools in your stomach.
“Wanna try?” You offer boldly even though you can see the faint traces of something sparkling on her lips too already.
She blinks rapidly and makes a confused noise in the back of her throat but before she could actually articulate an answer, you stand on your tiptoes to match her height and briefly press your lips against her. It’s barely a peck but your lips tingle afterwards, begging for more.
“There,” you smile widely and tilt your head towards the door. “Dance with me?”
The girl seems speechless for a moment but then giggles again and follows you to a corner of the living room where most of the people mingle and do a very poor imitation of dancing to some 2010s throwback Jaehyun’s speakers play, so it’s a win. Faintly you hear Hanbin scolding somebody for smoking on the balcony and some cheers over a wild round of the APT game but none of that matters, not when you have the prettiest girl with you.
Under the flashing crimson and blue lights Blondie’s eyes shine. Or it might just be from her glittery eyeshadow. Either way you are mesmerized. When you sway closer, you could blame it on the alcohol but it wouldn’t be completely true nor would be claiming that resting a hand on her side is only for balance.
There’s a content smile on your lips when she shudders under your touch as your thumb caresses the sliver of bare skin not covered by her tee. When she calls your name, almost revered, as her own hands slide to the small of your back to hold you, you’re too tipsy and too affected to question when you told her what’s your name. You just hook your free hand’s index finger into the long necklace she’s wearing and give it a little tug to pull her closer. Your breath hitches when your lips graze after she stumbles and you bump into the couch behind you.
“Are you sure you’re sober enough?” She asks, her warm breath fanning over your mouth and her voice dropping lower. So sexy.
“Yes. Please,” you whisper, no hesitation, and sigh when your lips finally mold together. She tastes like cherries and you press closer like you’re trying to figure out whether it’s from her gloss or flavoured soju.
You get lost in it. Her earthy scent, the sweet taste of her lips, the way she kisses you like she means it. You have a hand on her nape, playing with the strands of her short blonde hair while she holds you like you are something precious. Time slows down and everything else dulls: the music, the lights, the alcohol in your veins.
“Get a room,” somebody yells at some point, breaking the spell as Blondie pulls back too much for your liking. You need a few long seconds to ground yourself, blinking up at the gorgeous girl in front of you. The gloss is smeared on her reddened lips and you’re sure you’re no better. You feel hot all over.
“Do you… do you wanna come over to mine?” You mutter, breathless, your fingers skimming down on her flat stomach from her ribcage all the way to the hem of her high waist jeans, implications clear and it has her suck in a breath.
Then suddenly, with the worst timing ever, nausea hits. All those soju shots are finally catching up to you.
“Wait… Fuck, I think I will throw up,” you barely get the words out before running back to the bathroom.
The rest of the night is a blur. You remember the cold of the bathroom floor tiles, somebody patting your back, glimpses of a taxi ride but the faces and events are smudged like ink under water. Somehow you manage to wake you up in your own bed, in changed clothes, alone.
“Had fun?” Kazuha teases when you crawl out of the room after noon to do something about your growling stomach. The curry she’s eating smells so good you would otherwise steal from that but right now you can’t even fathom swallowing something proper like that.
“Don’t even start. I made out with the hottest girl, then threw up in front of her and I don’t even know her name,” you whine with a pout, spreading cream cheese over your bread only to remember halfway through a glide that you forgot to toast it. It makes you ridiculously sad.
“That’s a pity. Though the guy who brought you back and asked me to make sure you’re good was cute too,” your flatmate says between two bites and it has you furrowing your brows.
“Who was it?”
“How would I know? I don’t know Myung Jaehyun’s friends. Only Sanghyuk and it wasn’t him,” Zuha shrugs and goes back to her lunch.
Her answer doesn’t really narrow down the list. Jaehyun is friends with like half the campus, so ruling out dance majors doesn’t get you anywhere. Maybe it was Hanbin or Euijoo, they are usually the most sober at these parties.
You take a bite from your soft bread as you sit down and open your unread notifications. You text back everybody who wonders whether you’re alive and like a few photos on social media. You totally don’t do it in hopes of catching sight of a certain blonde girl, so you’re totally not disappointed when you don’t see anyone like that tagged. You only have one new follow request from some guy with a pumpkin username. He’s wearing a football jersey in his profile picture, so you delete it without thinking. Jocks are not your type.
Alas life goes on and on Monday, you’re facing your next challenge: trying to not get rained on while carrying books that didn’t fit into your totebag next to your lunchbox and laptop. Or the even bigger challenge: opening one of those heavy glass doors while your hands are full to get into the Humanities building without getting rained on.
“Hey, Y/N! Let me…” Comes a voice from behind you and the umbrella that has been precariously balancing on your shoulder is now secured properly over your head. It gives you a free hand to push at the handle.
“Wow, you're a lifesaver, thanks!” You let out a relieved sigh as the door swings open.
“No worries,” says the guy who follows you inside and hands you your umbrella back. He has a grey hoodie over his head, drenched a little at the sleeves where his own umbrella didn’t cover him. A few strands of dyed hair peeks out from under the hood and his thin framed glasses are a bit fogged up now from the warmer temperature indoors. “How is your head?”
The question leaves you dumbfounded a bit but then you remember he even called your name, so now you’re racking your brain from where he could know you. He does seem vaguely familiar but you’re pretty sure there’s no guy like him in your classes but one can never be 100% certain. You’re not the most observant person anyways, you get distracted way too easily.
“Could be worse. Uhm you are…”
“Sungho. From the party?” The guy pushes the glasses back on his nose bridge, Thankfully he doesn’t look offended that you didn’t recognize him, rather just… shy?
“Sorry, things about the party are a bit… blurry. I shouldn’t have drunk so much,” you admit with an audible wince because that’s the issue, isn’t it? At the end of the day, it’s your fault that his name doesn’t ring a bell.
“No worries,” Sungho waves off your apology with a slightly awkward smile and points at the stack of books under your arm. “Need help with those?”
“I’ll manage. Thanks though,” you smile and wish him a nice day before sprinting off towards the elevator. You really can’t wrap your head around why he seems familiar when you don’t remember anything about him.
It’s been five days and no signs of Blondie. You start to think that she was just the creation of your drunk mind. So it leaves you no choice: you have to go to the single source of truth, the only person you know who knows her.
“Jaehyun, hey!” You catch up to the boy before he could leave after your class together on Friday morning. “I need your help.”
“Sure, go on,” he turns to you, slipping his phone back into the pocket of his baggy jeans. He probably thinks you need help with the material or at least something academic-related, so you spare both of you the time by not keeping him guessing.
“At your housewarming party I kissed someone,” you tell him straightforwardly and you can see his neutral expression morph into a grin. The social butterfly he is, you're pretty sure matchmaking his friends is one of his favourite pastime activities.
“Not just anyone. The prettiest blonde girl ever,” you clarify because you need him to understand the gravity of the situation.
“Ah… huh?” Jaehyun blinks in confusion, probably because he doesn't understand what you need his help with. Or maybe he didn’t know you swing both ways? Anyways…
“Yeah. She said she used to live together with you. Could you maybe get me her contact?” You plead, even put your hands together to mimic praying and try your best puppy eyes.
“She?” The guy questions like he’s trying to make sure he heard that part right.
“Yes, she! She’s like this tall, has short blonde hair with bangs and she has really cute cat-like eyes,” you describe the girl of your dreams to him. But why are you over-explaning it? He couldn’t have had that many roommates to begin with. “How many girls have you lived with?”
“Not many,” Jaehyun laughs. “I will ask Yeppi first, okay?”
“Yeppi?”
“It’s a nickname,” he explains and you can't help but smile. It fits because she is pretty. Should you maybe call her that too instead of Blondie?
“Okay, yeah, of course, you should ask her first,” you nod, eagerly, giddy already because you’re one step closer to finding her.
Sungho’s day has been just peachy. He almost burned himself with the milk foam machine and has been yelled at for not using oat milk for a customer who did not even ask for it. Let’s not even talk about the fact that it’s day five of his crush ignoring him. Then Jaehyun waltzes through the café’s door like the world’s happiest labrador running up to its owner.
“Dude, you won’t believe it!” He yells over the chill lofi music and Sungho bows in apology towards the exactly three university students studying or at least pretending in front of their open laptops.
“Keep your voice down,” he hisses at his friend. It comes out a bit harsher than intended but he has been a bit moodier lately.
Lately as in ever since that run-in he had with you on campus when it became clear that you didn’t even remember kissing him. But it’s all good, he gets it, you were drunk but still…
“So you don’t want to hear what I talked about with Y/N?” Jaehyun leans onto his elbows over the counter and Sungho can’t help but feel a little jab in the ribs at the mention of your name. Then he remembers how you touched him right there, lightly and playfully from one rib to another and he needs to suppress a shiver while he starts the espresso machine as nonchalantly as he can. It doesn’t deter Jaehyun from continuing in the kind of voice he uses when he excitedly describes movie plots he liked. “She just asked for my help to contact the prettiest blonde girl she has met. The one she made out with at my party.”
It’s like one ear in, one ear out. Sungho needs two business days to process what he heard because he understands the words and yet, they don’t make any sense. Were you kissing somebody else at the party? A girl no less? Not that he has any problem with that, you told him you like girls too and he’s a firm believer of love is love but… Did it mean that he wasn’t special at all? Were you just going around calling everybody pretty and kissing them?
“What?” He eventually gapes at Jaehyun who’s still grinning at him widely like it’s the best news ever. Argh, he really should have told Euijoo about his troubles instead, the older guy wouldn’t have made fun of him at least.
“She thinks you’re a girl, Sungho,” Jaehyun pokes him in the chest with a cheshire smile. “The girl you have a crush on has a crush on the girl version of you. Oh my god. This is golden.”
“Oh,” Sungho blinks, slowly, because if it’s true, if Jaehyun is right to be so sure that the girl in question is actually him, maybe the situation is not that dire. Sure, he is not a girl but you have also told him that you like guys too, so that shouldn’t be a problem… right? “Then I should just tell her it was me.”
It’s that simple, isn’t it? Sure, it might be a bit awkward, it might require him to dig out pictures Jaehyun took of him in makeup but if it makes you kiss him like that again, it would be worth it.
“I have a better idea,” his friend interjects, way too excited compared to the problem at hand.
“I don’t like your ideas,” Sungho frowns but still slides an iced americano in front of Jaehyun as a peace offering.
“My idea to put you in make up got Y/N kissing you,” Jaehyun raises a brow in challenge then takes a long slurping sip from the coffee before making the dramatic announcement. “Let’s make an instagram account for Sunghee.”
Now Sungho is utterly confused.
“Who?”
“Your girl version, come on, Sungho, keep up!” Jaehyun is snapping his fingers impatiently, then leans closer to lay out his plan. “You said she didn’t accept your follow request and kind of avoided you at uni, so if you suddenly approached her claiming you kissed her at the party she barely has any recollections of because of how drunk she was, she would think you’re a creep. I think you should start talking online and see if there’s anything beyond the initial sparks.”
“You want me to pretend to be a girl just to talk with my crush,” Sungho deadpans.
He can’t believe he’s actually considering this. Not after the last time he listened to Jaehyun, he lost a bet and ended up being styled against his own will. He really should have stopped doing that. Both listening to Jaehyun and making bets with him.
“Okay, maybe we can keep the gender thing ambiguous,” his best friend sighs almost like he’s the one giving in. “I have been telling you for years that you’re pretty like a girl. I wonder though, how she didn’t notice you’re as flat as a board."
Sungho feels himself flush but he isn’t sure it’s from embarrassment or exasperation.
“Of course I’m flat-chested, I’m a guy!”
“Maybe she likes her girls like that too,” Jaehyun has the audacity to grin while saying that. It only makes Sungho want to throw him out.
“Can we not talk about Y/N with other girls?” He groans and puts on his customer service smile when a mildly scared-looking girl approaches the counter.
Sungho remembers the first time he saw you clear as day. It happened in the coffee shop where he works part-time. Rain was pouring then too, relentlessly. (It’s a bit ironic that you only seem to go there when the weather’s shitty and you can’t be bothered to go to your favourite off campus café.) You probably don’t remember because he’s just one barista of the many you’ve encountered. You should have been just one customer of the many too. He usually has a hard time remembering even regulars, but something shifted inside of him that day.
And funnily enough, if anything, it was irritation at first sight.
You entered the coffee shop, your umbrella dripping rainwater all over the polished floors he had just mopped, and he had to close his eyes to stop himself from quitting right there. There was clearly an umbrella holder by the door outside, but he couldn’t even kindly point that out to you because instead of making your way to the counter, you walked up straight to a couple sitting by the window and slapped the guy right across the face. Sungho was too shocked to react. He just stood there with mouth agapé as you lectured that guy about cheating on your friend. It was like something out of a weekday soap opera, the unrealistic kind people get hooked on without meaning to and he was no better. He only remembered to act like a professional when you eventually did walk up to the counter to order a coffee for takeaway like nothing happened. He totally forgot about scolding you over the umbrella thing.
He has built some sort of quiet admiration after his co-worker Gaeul told him that the guy you slapped was an infamous player on campus, so it was well-deserved. Still, he thought you were a bit scary. (Which according to Jaehyun translated to him finding you hot.) Then the next time you visited the café during his shift you gave your umbrella to a stranger just because the girl had to go to a job interview while it was pouring outside. Right after, you complimented his latte art.
Needless to say, he has been falling steadily.
And then came the party and its aftermath.
He really can’t even make himself to blame you for not recognizing him. Every barista wears brand colored masks, aprons and baseball caps according to company policy and because Sungho hates it when his hair is in his eyes while working, he always neatly tucks them under the hat. Then there are the glasses he wears when the chances that somebody drunkenly knocks them off are low. So he gets it, the confusion, but… a girl? Really?
It's raining again when you walk in. He straightens his back when he notices and smoothes the wrinkles out on the front of his apron. He can immediately tell something is off though. There’s something sluggish in your movements and your eyes lack their usual spark and fire. You order a latte, hot like always on rainy days, and he rings your order up with all the usual textbook questions but he can’t help sneaking glances at you.
“Rough day?” He prompts gently as he hands you the buzzer. When you lift your gaze to him and your fingers touch, he swears his heart skips a beat.
“You could say that,” you sigh and start rambling about your pain in the ass of a landlord and your thesis consultant’s not too helpful comments on your drafted proposal while he’s starting on your coffee. It’s a slow day, so he doesn’t mind listening to you. He never does, but your company now feels especially good. When you add to your list of problems that you’re starting to think you’re unlucky when it comes to your crushes, he almost messes up the latte art. “Sorry, that was a long rant.”
“It’s okay. Just remember to take care of yourself,” he tells you and draws a little smiley onto your paper cup before handing it over. This time, when you take it, your fingers linger longer.
“Thanks… Sungho, right?” you smile at him sweetly, eyes crinkling and he feels his heart stutter in his chest.
You put the not even used buzzer down on the counter between you but don’t leave right away. You look at him intently, like you’re trying to figure out something and he can do nothing but stare back, his breath caught in his throat.
“Sorry, it might sound weird but…” You tilt your head and squint at him. “Your eyes are really familiar. Do you perhaps have a sister?”
Sungho exhales with a chuckle because you’re so close to getting it, to recognize him and yet, here you are face-to-face, searching for logical-sounding excuses for the familiarity. Now is his chance. He should just rip off the bandaid and spare you both the time and this awkward dance you’re doing because of a simple misunderstanding. He just didn’t imagine it happening at his workplace but better there than never.
“Uhm, no, no sister. Actually–”
The sound of your phone ringing echoes in the quiet space of the café. You fish it out and Sungho bites into his lip.
“Shit, sorry, I have to go,” you look back up with apologetic eyes and then you’re already running off with your coffee in your hand, leaving him standing there like a fool. Again.
So here it comes: desperate times, desperate measures.
Still, Sungho refuses to create fake accounts and such just to talk to you. Instead he changes his default KakaoTalk name to his initials and sets his profile picture to a photo of his family’s cat.
Then he takes a deep breath and looks up the ID Jaehyun has sent him earlier, preceded by a bunch of smirking emojis. He types out a message, keeping it simple and straightforward. His fingers shake a bit when he presses Send.
psh: hi! jaehyun told me you’re looking for me
The answer is almost immediate. As if you have been waiting. He tries to not feel too hopeful and fails.
ynie: omg yeppi?
psh: please don’t call me that
ynie: why? you’re pretty
And that’s it, he’s already blushing.
ynie: but you can always tell me your name
psh: nice try but you know my name actually
ynie: i do?
ynie: i’m sorry i don’t remember TT
ynie: i hope i didn’t scare you off at the party! and that i didn’t come off as too strong! i usually don’t invite people over so fast
psh: don’t worry about it. it’s probably better we didn’t go further though
He only means it because of how drunk you were and because of the gender confusion thing but only when there’s a pause between messages does he realize that it came out wrong.
psh: not that i didn’t want to! it’s just that i would prefer to go slow. if that’s okay?
How do you tell someone you have been crushing on for a while that you would like them at least to know you’re a guy before you go anywhere near a bed, a crash course by Park Sungho. Argh, he would like to scream into his pillow like those dramatic characters in dramas but he has more dignity than that. At least he would like to think he does. That’s why he thinks it’s important to clarify he didn’t text to hook up. His heart wasn’t built for one night stands.
ynie: of course. i would like to get to know you anyways
So that’s how it starts, the texting, the twenty and more questions, and somehow his name or gender are forgotten. Like they are not even important. At least not as important as the cat in his profile picture or your thesis topic, his favourite movies and songs, your guilty pleasure dessert and how you’ve been wanting to dye your hair for a while but never got around to do it.
Some days it’s like this:
ynie: wait did you just get on a metro near campus?
psh: yeah why?
ynie: i think i saw you! from across the platform before the metro pulled up
ynie: omg i can’t believe it. we were so close
ynie: big fan of your androgynous style btw
Well, that’s one way to put it. It’s just a white tank top with an overshirt paired with jeans.
psh: i can’t believe you recognized me from afar
That’s what he types and what he means is: I can’t believe you don’t recognize me when I’m in front of you.
ynie: well your hair stands out and your shoulder-waist ratio has driven me crazy that night, so…
Now, Sungho is the one going insane.
Another day he gets two notifications at the same time. One from you with a bunch of exclamation marks and an ominous one from Jaehyun.
menace: don’t kill me
psh: what did you do now?
menace: i might have sent a picture of you to y/n
menace: the one with the braided pigtails wig
Sungho takes three deep breaths, blocks his best friend and throws his phone onto the bed. By the time he picks it up again (barely 5 minutes later because he lacks self-control when it comes to you), your chat is filled with reaction pictures and uppercase messages.
ynie: you look pretty with long dark hair too!!
He kind of wants to dig himself a hole.
These days you come to his workplace even on sunny days. You make small talk by the counter while you wait for your drink. One day, you slide a flyer about a book club onto the counter and invite him. Most days, you study by the window and he gets away with staring more than he should. Gaeul clicks her tongue disapprovingly whenever she notices but doesn’t say anything. When you send him pictures of the art on your coffee via KakaoTalk not knowing it was his own work, his heart somersaults in his chest.
Then it happens. It doesn’t necessarily come as a surprise. There has been a build up. You have been talking for a while, things are good, Sungho’s crush is bigger than ever and it has been slow enough. It’s no surprise that you have had enough of waiting around.
ynie: want to study together this weekend? we can meet at the campus library
psh: i would love to
psh: but i need you to know that i don’t usually look the way i do at the party
ynie: duh i didn’t expect you to wear glitters to the library
psh: not just that
psh: just promise me you won’t freak out?
ynie: pinky swear. it’s a date then!
You’re spinning a pen around your fingers and occasionally tap it against the open but empty notebook you have in front of you. Your laptop has long gone to sleep mode since you sat down in a quiet section of the library. Every few seconds you glance down at the row of bookshelves, then check the time only to realize again that you’re being way too early. Who is to blame you though?
Somehow you still manage to miss when somebody walks up to your desk and stops by its corner. You drop the pen when you look up, smiling at the familiar face with a little wave.
“Hi, Sungho!”
He’s wearing the same hoodie he did when you met the week after the party and there’s some unease in his soft eyes behind his glasses as he puts his bag down next to the chair across from you. He glances as you like he’s expecting you to tell him he can’t.
“Hi. So uhm…” He clears his throat, now clearly anxious, then he just starts undressing in the middle of the library.
Okay, maybe undressing is not the right word but he hooks the black mask off his ears, so it doesn’t cover his features. Then takes off his glasses too, putting them down on the table carefully before grabbing the hem of his hoodie and pulls it over his head. The movement messes up his blonde hair and he reaches up to brush his usually parted fringe into proper bangs. Some strands fall into his eyes that seem darker now without the reflection of the glasses on them. He nibbles on his lower lip absentmindedly and only then do you notice the shiny gloss covering them. He’s also wearing the same white crop top from the party.
It has you gasping audibly.
“It’s you. Really,” you whisper, trying to take it all in. His broad shoulders filling out the tee. The bright white overhead lighting highlighting his biceps you have failed to notice before despite how securely he held you. The way his Adam’s apple moves with a nervous gulp.
“You promised not to freak out,” he reminds you almost pleadingly and there’s something tense in his voice that has you look straight into his eyes, dark and almost feline, filled with something warm, something like hope.
“I’m not. It’s just…” You trail off, glancing once again at the bare skin peeking out from under the top and the way a pout sits on his pink lips, blonde strands of hair framing his face gracefully despite being ruffled up. It’s almost unfair. “Gender envy is real.”
You don’t even try to keep awe out of your voice and Sungho looks so, so confused.
“Are you not… angry?”
“Why would I be?” You tilt your head, matching his confusion with furrowed brows.
“I’m not a girl,” he says very seriously and very quietly like it’s some grave confession and the corner of your mouth twitches.
“Yes, I can see that. You’re still very pretty though,” you say with a smile that’s both amused and coy and if his widened eyes are anything to go by, that’s when he realizes.
“You knew!” He raises his voice like it’s an accusation and it has you giggle.
“Yeah, for a while. But it’s sweet that you put on gloss and a crop top for me today,” you smile wider.
In all honesty, it was a pretty embarrassing realization to come to in the middle of a busy metro station but better late than never. You don’t really care if he’s a girl or a guy, so you guess the whole ordeal stressed out Sungho more than you.
“So… is the date still on?” He asks tentatively as he lowers himself onto the chair.
“Yes, of course,” you beam at him even though you aren’t sure you will be able to focus on the study material when there’s something much more interesting in front of you.
You can’t be blamed for not at least trying but eventually you give up after an hour and suggest getting coffee. Sungho agrees easily and while you walk, you talk a bit about how the entire misunderstanding unfolded. He tells you how he wouldn’t have known you thought he was a girl if it wasn’t for Jaehyun’s big mouth and shares his friend’s crazy idea about ‘Sunghee’. You tell him how invested Jaehyun was whenever he has asked for updates and in the middle of semi-embarrassed laughter the topic turns into something lighter. When you stop to let a group of freshmen through, you slide your hand against Sungho’s palm. At first, he seems surprised, looking down at your fingers pressing against his like he can’t quite believe it but then he’s the one intertwining them. This time, you don’t even try to hide your smile.
Coffee turns into a much longer affair because both of you are pretty reluctant to leave. But midterm exams are coming up, you actually need to study, so it’s the sensible thing to do to call it a day when the sky starts darkening outside. When Sungho offers to walk you home, it makes you giddy but you spend the entire metro ride and 5-minute walk turning the same question over in your head. It slips out the moment you reach your apartment door.
“So… just to be on the same page, you’re my boyfriend now, right?”
It’s not the most romantic way to address the matter but you don’t care much about being romanced. Sungho seems a bit taken aback by the sudden question though and you wonder how long it will take for him to figure you out so well to not get startled by your directness. You hope it will be a very long time. Especially because he doesn’t seem to mind it.
“I’m whatever you want me to be,” he says eventually and you would call him out on being so cheesy if it wasn’t such a swoonworthy line.
“Good,” you smile and peck him on his lips, smearing the remnants of gloss on his mouth. It’s a bit like deja vu, repeating the past. Sungho blinks slowly under the corridor’s dim lighting. Your heart rate picks up when he leans back in, almost dazed, but you stop him with a hand over his chest.
“How slow do you want to go?” You ask, partly to be a tease about his earlier request and partly to be considerate. Sungho is not having it though, not this time.
He’s caressing your cheek with one hand and puts the other onto yours as he diminishes the remaining distance between you. You feel the door’s keypad dig into your back but still smile against his lips as he kisses you properly. It’s more coordinated now that you aren’t drunk but there’s something endearingly awkward in it as your nose bumps into his glasses. It’s just perfect.
Until the door opens behind your back.
You’re a bit too preoccupied and fail to recognize the familiar buzzing of the electric door lock in time. The only reason why you don’t fall is Sungho’s hand on the small of your back keeping you in place.
“Oh my god, can you not do that in public places?” Kazuha sighs and you scramble to stand properly beside your newly acquired pretty boyfriend, ready to introduce them. Your roommate however waves in his direction like it’s not their first time meeting.
You furrow your brows and glance from one of them to the other. “You two know each other?”
“He’s the guy who brought you back that night, after the party,” your flatmate explains.
“He’s the hot girl I made out with,” you counter, which leaves her wide-eyed and dumbfounded.
“What?”
“Long story.”
You’re in the middle of class assignment discussion after your English Literature class when you phone pings with a new message. You stand up right away when you see the contact name.
“Sorry, I’ve gotta go, my girlfriend’s waiting.”
“Wait, what?!” Jaehyun lets out a way too loud shriek in pure shock. “Are you and Sungho in an open relationship or something?”
You snort.
“God, no,” you shake your head. You honestly don't think you could share Sungho with anybody and no matter how corny it sounds, he really is all you need. “It’s just… when I asked him to be my boyfriend, he said he would be my anything, so once in a while I like to change things up."
It's good that Sungho is secure enough in his identity that such things don’t bother him. He knows you know (now) that he’s a guy and you love him regardless of gender. But that past misunderstanding is like an inner joke between you, like a funny anecdote you like to revisit. You once jokingly called him unnie just to see how he reacts. He tripped over his own feet and laughed in that part shy, part shocked way he usually reacts to being called yeppi too.
Dating Sungho is really the best thing that happened to you. He’s sweet and silly, he doesn’t care that you can be brash sometimes. He joins the book club and takes you out on coffee dates, movie dates, gallery dates. You do skincare together when you stay over, he helps you maintain your hair when you bleach it and he lets you put gloss on him when you go out to parties. But at the end of the day, he’s such a guy.
He leaves the toilet seat up, plays video games and forgets to eat while at it, manhandles you during play fighting just because he can and once a week he plays football with his friends which leaves him all sweaty and tired. You’re still not a big fan of the sport because it bores you but if it’s him playing you turn into the best cheerleader the world has ever seen. You practically run up to him when you see him waiting for you at your usual place near his workplace.
“Hi, baby. Good session?” You press a kiss over his shoulder that’s bared by the black tank top he has on and snuggle to his side. Now that you’re allowed, you can’t seem to keep your hands off him.
“Yeah, I’m starving though,” he says with a little whine in his voice which always makes you a little feral with cuteness aggression.
You start listing off options as you start walking hand in hand, the spring breeze sweetening the air around you. You’re just like any other campus couple but when people ask about your love story, you have a favourite version to tell:
★ 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.
★ summary: holding onto empty promises is hard when all there is to love is a cold screen.
★ warnings: nothing that i can remember tf.
★ a/n: theres a photo of kamden taking a selfie on his computer and you can blame it for this. also american jawbreaker so duh.
★ permanent taglist: @blubb0 @gyubvlin
You knew what you were signing up when you met him. His accent when speaking the language, the way he used the words, foreign to him, a telltale sign that he wasn't native to this zone.
It was supposed to be a summer fling, only meant to last the few weeks he was there, showing him the most recognizable places from your town while dodging tourist traps, somehow turned into coffee dates, sudden sleepovers and meeting the family. Way more than any of you had signed up for.
But nothing good ever lasts, so as fast as he came into your life, he had to leave, go back home, abandoning you with your heart on your sleeve and bitter goodbyes and promises of staying in contact, even if you both know how hard it could be, and you probably you will never see him again, his promise holding the same weight as the tooth fairy did once you are too old to believe. Kamden probably shares that sentiment you like to think, the conversation dwindles, texts coming days apart, if not weeks, knowing of him only thru stories and loose likes.
Until that one night, or day, depending who you ask.
For you, it was Sunday, around lunch time. You were in the kitchen of your grandmas house, helping finish the salads, when your phone rings. Not the usual one, form the default phone app of your phone, but one you can't recognize. Mistakenly, hurriedly or maybe you just knew, you answer. Not even bothering to check who was the one behind the call, or maybe you were willing to answer of the mere chance it was him.
"I miss you" is the first thing that you hear thru the phone, slurred speech and you could only imagine the alcohol stench that was stuck to his clothes. It should be around six in the morning in Seattle, which meant he had been busy last night, probably with the same friends you had met thru messages, comments and some calls, names with loose descriptions and faces you could kind of match.
"It's no time for you to call" you respond, maybe more friendly than you should. You two had been mutually ghosted, even if there was no one to blame, you still had some animosity towards the guy.
"Shit- I'm sorry, I know it's six a.m…" Kamden starts rambling, and you feel low key bad for the guy. Knowing him, even if for that brief period of your lives, you knew just how nervous and doubtful he could get.
"It's almost lunch here," you say, signaling your dad for a timeout as you go somewhere more private. You loved your family but one thing that represented them was nosiness. "You know the rule about phones" you joke.
"I know, I know I'm sorry" he mumbles, and you hear the rustling of fabric. He probably is lying down in his bed, the one you only knew out of the few pictures he sent. "I just wanted to hear your voice."
"You have more than enough voicemails" you say, trying to not let the giddiness be heard, focusing on reading whatever ingredients where in that bottle of shampoo. You shouldn't be entertaining him, allegedly trying to maintain zero contact.
"T's not the same" he mumbles, as if offended by the mere comparison. "I just… wanted to know how you were doing. Saw your story, you know. Went to the same bar we used to go. Did you take someone someone new? It's not fair. You get to keep our places, and I get to miss you."
What's not fair, you think, is how he claimed every corner of your life, he was here for a brief period on what would be your existence and yet had marked every little corner, every spot with his memory. Even the brand of coffee you bought was the one he liked. You had to live with Kamden haunting your every move, while he could easily forget you and move on.
"I hadn't gone since you left" you confess. "it reminded me too much of you- and the bartender asked about you, said he wants a rematch of the last game" you add, not knowing what you mean by it. It wasn't an invitation, but it was not not an invitation. Maybe you just need to learn to keep your mouth shut.
"I will win again" he sighs. "When I come back."
Your breath cuts. When he comes back. In the future. As if it was an actual plan
"When you come back?" you ask, as if not believing him, or not knowing if he meant it.
"I can't keep going like this. I need to see you. I keep missing dumb things, like the way the sun rises from your window, or your humming as you wait for the kettle. I even bought a kettle, fuck. Just because you are right, warming water in the microwave is stupid. But more importantly, I miss you. I will keep going out and meeting new girls all while replaying the night I met you, and you will insist it was just the damned drink you offered but you bewitched me from the moment I saw you. I feel like I will go insane if I loose you just because I didn't try to make this work."
"Kamden…" you couldn't believe your ears, this was the only thing you wanted to hear from him ever since he left, and yet, had the time come, you couldn't react, even less believe he meant it. Someone, probably one of your cousins was hurrying you so they could start eating. "I will call you later"
Call him later you did. You called him in the afternoon of that Sunday, and the next day, and the next one, and the next next one, until the routine was settled.
Every one of your friends had told you: long distance is hard, even more when its a few countries away. But you were determined to make it work. You were by no definition the towns harlot, but you had had your fair share of dates, before and after Kamden, and no one had come close to the way you felt with the American boy.
But it gets hard, and you miss him more than you can think. Having enjoyed his company for a brief time, giving you just a taste of domesticity left a bitter aftertaste for now, with the empty bed and lonesome mug.
You battle it out, somehow your schedules align, and you can spend most of his afternoons and your late nights chatting, almost as if he was there.
"B9" he says from his place laying in his own couch, your phone perched against the pillow, make shifting accuracy for his company.
"Empty" you say, mind drifting for your own board as you look away from your work load for a minute. "C7"
"Hit" he says, and you wait no time before marking that spot, "How are you so good at this? you are barely paying attention"
"Don't be such a sore loser" you hear from the background, before an entity appears in the background of his call, walking across the kitchen.
"Hi Kade" you greet, receiving a wave from the clone of your boyfriend.
"Hi, nice to see you, even if I'm still not sure you really aren't AI" he jokes, and you pretend to laugh along him and Kamden. To be fair, it was a nice pun, and if any of your siblings did have a long distance boyfriend you didn't meet, you probably would have made the same one. But right now it only hurt, once again it was a reminder of how volatile you were in his side of the world. The only proof of your existence was the call receipts and his half of the sea battle games.
You try to not dwell on it too much, focusing back on your work and beating his ass in yet another round, but the thought lingered, and Kamden could tell from the way your comments have dwindled, and mostly just hummed along whatever he was saying.
A ring of your bell gets you out of your trance.
"I'm not waiting anything" you tell Kamden, confused.
"Well, go check?" he says, maybe too interested. You decide to explore, getting up from your bed "Don't leave me here!"
You laugh as you grab your phone, heading to the door. There's a small box, not from the usual delivery services you could recognize, yet it had your name written on it.
"Should I open it?" you ask your boyfriend, as if he could know anything about the mysterious package.
"Maybe it's a secret admirer" he jokes as you bring it inside, setting it on the table. "Maybe its a bomb"
"If I explode its your fault."
"Open it" he insists. You fumble around for a knife, before finally slicing the tape, inside there's tissue paper, and a small sea battle, travel version.
"Did you like it?" he asks. And once again, it feels like a bad joke.
"Haha, so funny" you say, bitterly. "How do you plan on playing with this, telepathically?"
"I was thinking you could bring it here, you know. Finally teach Kade how to play"
"What?" you ask, shock written all over your features.
"Well, thanksgiving is coming closer, and I think you should meet the family. Mom has started to believe Kade about you being AI, and said she doesn't want cyborg grandchildren." he comments, as if he was telling you about the weather, and not inviting you his home. Across the world, but his. "but I guess I could also start refining my telepathy, if you prefer."
"Oh I hate you." you say, and you both know you don't mean it. Because there's no way you could ever hate him, even if you hate the distance, the way he tries so hard to make this work only making you miss him more, and even if he doesn't like your favorite movie.
"You can fact check that when you come" he answers, "in the mean time, I would worry more about getting some winter clothes."
★ summary: moving on and changing yourself are things that are usually hard to do, even more when you suddenly want to kiss your bestie.
★ warnings: literally nothing lmao
★ a/n: uni is kicking my ass so you better be grateful this is being posted today, i fell sleep twice on the bus today
★ permanent taglist: @blubb0 @gyubvlin
Late night calls with Seokjoon always were a common experience. After being friends for so long, and having very hectic lives respectively, late at night was the only time you could find it in yourselves to spend time with each other. Even if it was only through the phone.
"It's been a while, hasn't it" he jokes once you appear in frame, dressed in your pajamas as he guesses he's (i.e the phone) propped up on a teddy bear, facing the end of your bed that you decided will be your stage tonight.
"It has been some time, yeah" you agree, shuffling with the deck of cards. You didn't want to particularly acknowledge why you had stopped this nightly ritual, the reason now embarrassing you, even if you had been the one to defend it, cape and sword at it too "Did you miss me?" you tease, trying to change the subject.
"Yeah. A lot actually." -oh. You hadn't pictured him to actually answer the question, you honestly expected him to say he was really grateful and had enjoyed the peace or something like that "If only someone had better taste in men"
Of course, if there was anyone who wouldn't let that go, would be your best friend. Seokjoon didn't particularly like your boyfriend, now ex, and that dislike only worsened once your relationship had suffered from his request of not hanging out with the boy anymore, which you tried to follow as best of your ability, not that he blamed you, but he didn't agree with your willingness to be walked over.
"Don't you want me to find love?" you ask, continuing to shuffle the cards, with a level of violence that low key worried the boy, but he guessed you knew what you were doing so he let you to it, preferring to focus his attention to the cute expression on your face. He had come to realize, after years of friendship, the little knacks you had, like sticking out your tongue, or tapping your fingers when you are concentrated.
"I would prefer if you found a psychologist first. Or a self help book at least." Seokjoon says, finding your angered expression extremely amusing. He laughs as a card flies out of the deck, startling you.
"You are one to talk. You don't have the best track record -Shit" you defend yourself as the card falls of the bed, forcing you to contort out of frame to get it "it fell vertical, remember that" you tell him as you recover position, searching for the booklet.
"Vertical, got that. And my exes never had a problem with us calling." he says "not that I'm defending them"
"I think you would have preferred that than her shooting her shot with Yechan in front of me" you throw back, low blow but oh well, it had been so long ago it was water under the bridge by now. "here: the lovers. Love, harmony, relationships, alignment of values, elections. Does that mean I get a new boyfriend?"
"I would have preferred you had informed me before slapping her actually, but I forgive you, I guess." he comments, earning himself a nasty look from you, to which his answer is to laugh at. "God I hope not. You can't choose for shit"
"You have already said that, get a new argument" you bite back, deciphering the meaning of the card. " Maybe I will find love with the next one, who says? I just have to find a good one, that's what this means, anyway."
"You say that as if it is an easy task" he comments, finally deciding to join you in laying in bed, even with a screen dividing you, the movement finally shows his face, and his pajama, or lack of them. Having been in the privacy of his room, he hadn't even bothered to put on a shirt, leaving the expanse of his naked chest for your poor eyes to feast on.
"Your friends are good people." you comment, going back to mindlessly shuffling the cards, deep in thought, definitely not trying to not let your eyes wander on his image from the phone. His collarbones suddenly the most enticing thing you had seen in your life it felt like.
"You are not dating one of my friends" he says, and the tone in his voice lets you know its not up to discussion. Sore subject, it seems.
"I know, I'm just saying you were able to find five good guys, I should be able to find one." you comment "besides not all of us want to be eternal bachelors."
"You say that as if its something bad."
"It's not, I just think it's your nature by this point, don't you get bored, don't you want a change?"
"I don't know. I guess I will change when I find someone."you miss the way his eyes fixate on your figure, drawing on your face, that's focused on whatever you are doing to the poor cards. How long could he keep it,the way he felt? would you get mad, or could you still be friends after all.
"What about that girl you talked to Seongil about?"
"He told you?" he asks, alarm in his voice. He had confided in the older the newfound infatuation he had on you. It was a known fact that Seokjoon had a soft spot for you, but he was just now realizing how deep it actually ran. Even more since the conversation where you basically broke up with him, asking for space.
"He told me you had girl troubles" you say in a sing songy voice, "Wouldn't budge about it, told me to ask you about it myself"
"Good." he says, maybe a little harsher than intended.
You shrug his behavior off, used to his awkwardness about certain topics, albeit it was the first time it came up about a girl, usually he had no problem boasting about how hot, pretty or whatever adjective fit her he was using that week. Odd.
"Want me to throw you the cards about it?" you ask, trying to lighten the mood as you offer the deck towards the camera. Seokjoon hums in agreement, even if his gaze was actually fixed in the fallen strap of your pajamas, way more interested in the expense of your neck and shoulder, imagining how it would feel under his lips, how would you taste, what sounds would you make. He shuffles awkwardly, trying to not let that thought affect him more than it should. Hes your best friend, after all.
"What do I ask? what are your chances, relationship status? how close are you to her?" you inquire as you once again start shuffling the damned deck, and Seokjoon wonders if whatever deity that was communicating thru it was probably already fed up with your bullshit.
"We are close." he mutters, once again fixated on the exposed skin, and the little mole that habited the place "We are really close" he correct himself. Okay, salt to the wound, you think.
Who was this mysterious girl, good enough to be considered worthy of trauma dumping to Seongil, considered really close to Seokjoon, and why hadn't you heard about her before?
"Do I know her?" you ask, not really wanting to know the answer. You didn't understand why the idea of Seokjoon actually liking a girl had upset you so much, a sinking feeling on your chest. You usually weren't affected by his private affairs, so why now start.
"Something like that" with that, you choose silence as the answer, your mind replaying the answer on loop. Really close. Something like that.
A few minutes pass in silence, an eternity for Seokjoon, when the cards decide to speak for themselves, throwing out the two it deemed appropriate for the time. They fly out of the limited vision Seokjoon had, making you crawl towards the camera to rescue them to where had fallen.
Seokjoon once again lets his eyes wander more than he should have, eyes flying towards your thighs. Once again, he knows he shouldn't be staring at his best friend like this, but oh the things he would do to you if he ever got the opportunity to be in between them.
You sit down, deciding to flip the cards once again, finally seeing what fate held for him.
The fool.
And the lovers.
"What does it say?" He hurries from the other side of the line. Even if he wasn't superstitious, he was curious about what had made you so suddenly quiet.
"Its the fools and… The lovers" you explain, facing the cards towards him. "It's new beginnings, spontaneity and freedom meets love and relationship. Seems like you have a more than good chance after all, 'joon."
And you hate the way your throat tries to close, the sinking feeling coming back once again. You hate how much it hurts to imagine him with someone else, even if you had never considered it before now.
"I don't know, what do you think?" he asks more teasing than he should.
"I just told you what I think, it's the lovers and the fool, it doesn't get more explicit than that" you say, slightly on the edge about the topic "You should go for it" It was hypocritical really, for you to be so fed up over this. Until a few days you had a boyfriend of your own, you had no right to police who Seokjoon was dating.
"well, What do you say then? Do I have a chance?" he asks once again, a shit eating smile adorning his face. oh.
Oh.
He must see the shock in your face, since he lets out one of those pretty laughs you loved, the ones that make his chest shake and your heart melt. It takes you a minute to process, and he has to find it in himself not to tease you in the mean time.
"Since when?"
"Since before that dumbfuck got to you. He beat me to it" You don't know if that made it better or worse. In one side, he had liked you for that long, yearning from afar, from the other, had he been a little faster, you wouldn't have had to go thru the dumb fuck.
"So? do I have a chance?" he asks again, waiting for an answer even if by the smugness in his face you know he already has the answer.
writting a longer written fanfic and i feel like i need to ask, do you like when i change the pov from reader to the love interest? or do you find it annoying?
★ summary: in which maybe you are not as alone as you thought. And where the waves don't kill, they crash.
★ warnings: non graphic mentions of death, very briefly. talks abour grief, not explicitly.
★ a/n: so it began... im gonna try to be consistent with posting them. also this is the first one of the bunch that i imagined...
★ permanent taglist: @blubb0 @gyubvlin
★ series taglist: open! send an ask or leave a coomet to be added!
It had been a long time ever since Jo last saw you.
Technically, it would have been a few months ever since that summer afternoon, the one where he should have last seen you. You, who were supposed to go do it big time in the city, not shying away from a new adventure, were not supposed to be seen again.
But fate has other plans, and life isn't that linear. For you, at least. He's right were he's supposed to be, he thinks, trying to earn extra cash to be able to afford art school next year. Jo is not supposed to be seeing your figure walk past the meek beach stand he works at, even if its cold enough to make your fingers hurt and the beaches are empty. You were supposed to be rubbing shoulders with snobby peers, not walking past the coco bongo every day.
Everyone knew where you were going.
He knew where you were going.
It was a pretty steep fall, every person who had seen you walk past them in that direction had warned you, but your couldn't-care-less attitude, and the look on your face made everyone change the subject. The rocks were a pretty sight, an even prettier death. As it was a risky fall, it was also the only place where one could be alone with his thoughts, he himself had been an avid user of this site some times, even if he hasn't been there for a long time.
In the same fashion of it had been a long time since anyone had seen you beside the ghostly presences at the beach, everyone knew of you and your sudden change in plans, no longer ivy league, now deciding to spend a year doing basically nothing. A sudden accident, no one's fault really, but the biggest part of your life ceases to exist and how does one even move on from that?. Widower at eighteen, even if you weren't actually married, does it change anything if the love is the same?
Who could tell you not to be sad, to move on, if the pain you were bearing was no fit for a person so young, if your happily ever after was now buried in a casket, six feet under. A whole life in front of them. How could anyone tell you no, if there was barely anything you asked for, and the only thing you ever wanted was no longer here.
No one tells you what to do after the fact. Everyone tells you, high school sweethearts never last, never work out, you will see them in a few years and be grateful for what you dodged. But what happens when its not a break up. Not something you can move on from, because there isn't anyone to move on from, anyone to miss, to hate, only memories and pain. You don't get to see his stories with new girls, new friends. What you get is cemetery visits, and talking with his mom. And it follows. You see it everywhere. From the whispers at the school or the pitiful stares at the supermarket. It's everywhere, it's on everyone, the grief for you to overcome, to get better. Co can they blame you for going to the only place you feel a glimpse of normality, even if its the rocks, even if its questioning your own reason to be?
You can't turn it off, no one can. Some can ignore it, but it seems like its eating you alive. You are lost, and no one knows how to help you to find your feet once again, and prevent you from crashing like the waves.
That's the line of thought you are entertaining when you see him. His figure approaching, probably just got out of his job, not wanting to deal with a burden like you. It's three a.m on a Thursday, and once again, you know you shouldn't be here.
It should a shame you letting him see you like this, former a student, future whatever it was that you thought you wanted, but right now you couldn't care less. Local failure you were, if anything.
You knew him. It was hard not to given the size of your town. You had shared kindergarten, primary school, even high school. He was a constant background character for most of your life. Jo had always been there.
What shame could you have left when everyone already saw you at your lowest, is the question that plagues your mind when you wave at him, as if inviting him to join, completely shameless to your dripping hair or the clothes sticking to your body, result from the light drizzle that had been going for hours on end.
You highly doubted he would agree to join you, you yourself wouldn't have joined the local loony in the making, your reputation preceding you by now, and your looks doing barely anything to dismantle it. Who would agree to join your little pity party at the wee hours of the night, even less in probably the most dangerous location in the city, even more when it rained.
Much to your surprise, and his, even if he wouldn't confess this until a while later, his step dwindles, and its a matter of time before hes sitting beside you, an awkward silence falling upon both of you, the rain drenching you both.
You take a drag, smoking having become a new habit, a new cope. He scrunches his nose at the smell of the cigarette. Had he always been this cute? you could remember your peers raving about how handsome the shy boy was.
"You come here often" he says, and it's not a question. You know its a fact, but you can't avoid to feel amazed (or ashamed) that he noticed. One wouldn't think that anyone sees them, even less from the distance of behind the bar of a stand, and would never think they care.
"It's not like I have something better to do" you confess, mindlessly picking the little strands of grass that had grown in between the ridges of the rocks, as if trying to erase them from existence, little intruders, so green, so alive. "Besides, it's a nice view"
"A dangerous one at that too" he says, his eyes drifting to the moon reflecting on the shallow water. The sea was rising, the waves aggressively splashing around the parts where earlier you could see people occupying.
"Waves don't kill" you say matter of factly "they crash"
"Is it that different if both can hurt you?"
"Would it be that bad? to be in real pain, for once?"
He can only sigh at the comment. He couldn't even begin to comprehend the hurt you had gone, and probably still were going through. It wasn't a secret that he had never had a girlfriend, having always been a reserved person, even if he had received his fair share of confessions in his high school years, his mind had always drifted to the girl that had always been there, the girl that occupied most of his dreams, the girl sitting in front of him. You.
"I just... feel so lost" you add, and the utter helplessness in your voice breaks his heart.
"Aren't we all?" he says, and you can't help to feel both annoyed and comforted at the observation. "not like it's the same, but it's autumn and we are both here, rotting away in our small city. And I don't know about you, but I still have to decide what I'm doing next year"
His addition earns himself a giggle out of you, and he cant help but wonder when was the last time you had made a sound like that, less alone smiled. What a sight for sore eyes, he thought, wouldn't he had given everything to have been the reason behind it during school years.
"It's not like I know either. I just know I can make a mean college entry essay" you joke, and Jo doesn't know if he should feel bad for laughing, but the proud smirk at your own joke forces him to let out a breathy laugh at least.
"Well, at least we are in this together," he says, and you feel slightly happy at the prospect. Sure, he doesn't get it. And you wish he never gets it. But there's something comforting on someone trying to get it, or at least understanding the loneliness
"Who knows, maybe you can join me at the bar" You from a year ago, who had a boyfriend, a plan, and was dying to leave town probably would have puked at the thought of staying in the city, working at the beach stands.
The you from now, who couldn't be more far away from that version of you, could only let you a girlish giggle. After all, its not often you have a pretty boy asking to basically spend the summer with you, maybe even more.
"I don't know how I feel about being surrounded by alcohol bottles right now" you joke, taking another drag. You couldn't remember when was the last time you had had a conversation with someone, a real one, not a pity party. How refreshing it felt.
"You can always be at the register. I think it will be good for you to do something else than the rocks"
"Just say you want to see me more and move on" you say, half joking as you put the cigarette on the wet surface, a sizzling sound emphasizing your comment.
"Maybe. Or maybe together we are less lost, who knows."
You can only hum in response, getting up as if signaling for him to walk you home, which he hurriedly follows with. Maybe locking yourself in the sorrows wasn't the answer, maybe sitting on the rocks as if waiting for you to slip wasn't the way to spend the days, but who knows? maybe the answer was at the coco bongos stall.