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faby-montana · 7 months

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single handedly makes me love tuesdays

You In My Arms

Chapter 8: All I Want

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: the first date with the girl who reigns in his dreams these days, and Haechan makes a big realization (and a few smaller ones)

length: 7,997 words

tags: exhibitionism, slowburn, friends to lovers, handjobs, blowjobs, public sex, fingering, general perversion, smut

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

“There’s no way you’re actually doing that!?” YangYang laughs loudly, staring at Haechan where he’s standing in the doorway of their shared bathroom.

Haechan doesn’t look away from his reflection in the mirror as he readjusts his collar and checks his hair.

“Why do you find it so hard to believe?”

YangYang appears in the reflection over Haechan’s shoulder, a shit-eating grin stretching his lips wide. “Dude, seriously? It’s because you’ve been friends for years. You fucked all of the other girls in our group of friends, but never once did you show an interest in her. And now, suddenly, you’re taking her out on a date?”

Haechan meets YangYang’s eyes in the mirror. “You know, sometimes we’re just blind and dumb when it comes to who is right in front of us. And sometimes it just takes a little extra time to make a move once you realize you have feelings for someone.”

And that brings a twisted look to YangYang’s face. “Gross. Don’t get mushy and emotional on me now, Haechannie.” He shakes his head and walks away, calling back over his shoulder, “So actual feelings are involved? This isn’t just you trying to, like, wine and dine her before finally marking another of our friends off your list?”

Haechan takes one last sweeping look at himself in the mirror before he shuts the light off and turns away.

“First of all. I didn’t sleep with that many of the girls we were friends with in school. The girls in my dorm block, absolutely.” There was a reason he’d had to learn to avoid all of the girls that lived on the floor below him. “But Karina and one of Mark’s friends were the only ones we were actually close to. So, no, this isn’t me just trying to mark someone else off a non-existent list, dude. I like her.”

And if he doesn’t hurry up, he’s going to be late to their first date.

Haechan doesn’t usually feel nervous about things. He tends to just bulldoze ahead and then feel regret later instead of nerves at the start. But he feels a little flutter of something as he returns to his room to apply some fragrance, to grab his phone and wallet and a scarf and his coat.

When he turns around, YangYang is lurking in his doorway now.

“Damn, what now, Yang?” He hisses, startled at YangYang’s silent appearance. Haechan starts to step around him, but YangYang moves too, blocking his path with a hand to Haechan’s chest.

“Don’t break her heart, man.” His voice is low, a warning. This is the most serious Haechan has seen YangYang in a long time. “I like having her around too much. She’s a great friend, and if you fuck this up and suddenly she doesn’t want to be friends with any of us anymore….” He cuts himself off, shaking his head before he moves on, spitting, “Don’t scare her off with your pervy shit. She’s a good girl.”

Haechan just grins at that, heart leaping in his chest. Amused, he says, “YangYang, I know things about this woman that would make your hair curl. Don’t worry, I’m not scaring her off or breaking her heart.”

He slaps YangYang’s arm, and with a laugh, he finally steps around him and heads for the door.

Without his own car to drive, Haechan walks the several blocks from his apartment to hers. It’s a twenty minute brisk walk, and the cool air of the evening as the season takes its turn towards winter is calming. Twilight has fallen, giving the city a blue wash. Streetlights come on, the stars try to make an appearance. It’s chilly enough that Haechan thinks he can almost see his breath, and he tucks his hands into the pockets of his coat, hiding his nose and mouth beneath the curve of the scarf he has wrapped around his neck.

She’s waiting for him outside her building.

She’s bundled up against the cold too. A puffy coat and a hat with one of those fluffy baubles on top, which altogether makes her look absolutely adorable.

Haechan laughs as he approaches her, lifting a hand up to play with the bauble. “You look cute,” he beams, unable to look away as she smiles back at him. Her hand reaches up for his, pulling it down from where he’d squeezed the fluffy ball at the top of her hat.

“You look nice too, Donghyuckie. And you smell nice.” She doesn’t let go of his hand.

Her palm is warm against his, though her fingers are cold, so he laces their fingers together and brings their folded hands into the warm pocket of his jacket. That seems to throw her off slightly, because when he looks over at her, she’s just blinking, staring quietly at the pocket their hands have disappeared into, a glow appearing to her face that wasn’t there before. But then she moves closer, her hand squeezing his inside the pocket of his jacket.

“So where are we going?” She asks.

“Dinner.” Haechan starts to walk away, and she follows, sticking right by his side. “And then afterwards, a friend of mine is having a free concert by the river. He’s really talented, so I thought that might be fun. Dessert after that, if you’re interested.”

She nods, her face bright as she holds Haechan’s gaze. “Are we walking everywhere, or do we wanna take my car?”

Haechan drives, but they take her car. She chatters in the passenger seat, selecting music on her phone for them to listen to, and Haechan keeps one hand on the wheel while the other rests on his thigh. He keeps fighting the urge to reach over and take her hand. He likes the feel of her fingers between his, her palm warm on his. He likes the way that her perfume mingles with his at their wrists.

He likes her. Plain and simple.

She talks so much that Haechan wonders how nervous she really is. She looks calm on the outside, but then she’ll excitedly ramble to him about this story from her childhood for five minutes. It’s charming and cute, and Haechan listens intently to the story about her childhood stray cat that her parents wouldn’t let her keep, the one about her first trip to the beach that she could remember, the one about her memories of her first day at university and seeing Haechan then.

He’s never heard her first impression of him before, so it’s fascinating to hear it now and to see the light smile on her lips as she talks about him, eyes distant with remembrance.

“First day of orientation,” she giggles — his heart soars at the sound — and she looks ahead through the windshield. “I was so nervous because I didn’t know anyone in my orientation group, and my single acquaintance from high school that I knew there was in a completely different room, and I walk into the room they put us in. Everyone was either talking or sitting quietly by themselves and looking nervous, and I was one of the last ones to enter the room, and there were only a few seats left, so I just remember I booked it for the first one I saw. I remember looking around at everyone, at the student life volunteers who were orienting us.” Again, she laughs. “Do you remember that Xiaojun was actually one of them?”

Damn, Haechan had forgotten about that. He’d been a year ahead of them before he switched his major.

“But then I was looking around the room, and I saw you just like two seats away from me.” And there is her smile, like she’s pleased but embarrassed, and he wonders if her cheeks are filling with warmth of her embarrassment, if so Haechan wants to feel beneath his fingertips, to cradle her face in his hands as he kisses that sweet smile. But he keeps his hands to himself and just listens. “Once we started the icebreakers, it became quickly obvious that you were pretty extroverted. You were chatty and funny. Back then your hair was like this light honey-brown and your face was still squishy and cute.”

“Are you saying my face isn’t cute now?”

She rolls her eyes. “I know you know that’s not true. Your face was just rounder then.”

Haechan remembers. At freshly eighteen, he’d still been a little round and soft. He’d come to school that autumn wearing the weight of his mother desperately trying to stuff her eldest son with as much love and food as she could before he left the nest. He’d been tanned from spending his last months of freedom on the beach. His hair was only that light because he’d been trying to impress someone who, as it turned out, had no interest in him at all.

But Haechan remembers orientation too. He remembers when they were broken down into even smaller groups. Haechan, her, the person between them and one on either side of that trio were put together. She’d been a little quiet and withdrawn, and Haechan had tried to fill the silence (and talk over the only other guy in their group who’d thought he was in charge but who only came up with bad ideas), but he remembered her. He’d noticed her looking at him with this soft look in her eyes, the way she’d laughed along with all of the things he said.

“I remember you too.” Haechan nods as she quickly argues that there’s no way that he remembers her. “It’s true! I do remember you. You were quiet and cute, smart and you laughed so easily. You’re the one that came up with the idea that let our little group win the free snack vouchers, remember?”

She stares at him.

“What? Am I wrong?” Haechan glances over at her, then back at the road. “They put our orientation group into smaller groups, we were together in ours, and we were told to problem-solve. There was one smarty-pants who kept throwing out shitty ideas, I kept making jokes, the other two didn’t contribute much at all, and in the end you came up with the solution. We won snack vouchers, and I kept complimenting you on your idea. Right?”

She nods. “Right.”

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Haechan laughs, noticing that she’s still just looking at him. “What?”

“I just…. Honestly, I didn’t think you noticed me at all until I started hanging out with the group months later.” She bites her lip and looks out the windshield again. “I remembered everything from that day because that’s when I first started crushing on you, but I never expected that you’d remember me from then.”

They arrive at the restaurant then, and Haechan pulls into a place to park.

“You impressed me,” Haechan admits. “And then I kept seeing you around campus. We had a class or two together that first semester. When I wasn’t doing too great in the Psych class we had, I thought about approaching you to ask if you wanted to join my study group. Not that I had one, but I knew you were smart and nice, so I thought maybe I could at least study with you. But I always talked myself out of it, and then next thing I knew, I went to meet Renjun for lunch on campus one day, and there you were sitting and talking with him and Jeno.” Haechan shakes his head, a smile playing on his lips as the memory replays itself in his mind.

He couldn’t believe two of his closest friends were apparently friends with this girl. He’d watched from a short distance for a moment or two, watching her laugh with Renjun, watching her excitedly turn to tell Jeno something. Her mannerisms were so cute, and when Haechan finally realized he was being creepy by just standing there watching, he approached the table. She’d looked up at him with wide eyes, her lips parted softly, and she’d let out a little “oh!” of surprise.

After that, the rest was history.

They’d become acquaintances who had friends in common, and then their overlapping friend group kept growing until it was common to hang out together. They’d gotten to know each other better, and Haechan had become preoccupied with other people to crush on and lust after, namely Shotaro’s girlfriend, and he’d completely forgotten to realize his feelings growing for her. Until a few months ago.

Dinner is nice.

They share dishes, drink some wine, laugh and talk and probably make lovey eyes at each other quite a bit. Haechan knows that he is. Every time she laughs, he feels like he smiles so dopey. Every time that her foot brushes against his beneath the table, his heart lurches. By the time the check comes, Haechan is fully enchanted with her. Of course, he already knew that he really, really liked her. He knew that he wanted to end this night with finally getting to be with her. But now he knows he definitely wants it more long term than that. He feels like a silly young girl in a fairytale, picturing an entire future just after a first date.

The walk back to the car is the longest three minutes of his life.

He’s holding her hand, but it’s not enough.

He keeps looking at her flushed cheeks, at the shine in her eyes, and at her lips which are stained a slight shade darker by the wine. And he wants to kiss her, to hold her against him, to keep her warm tonight, and taste her on his tongue in every way.

When they reach the car, Haechan can’t hold back anymore. She reaches for the door handle of the passenger side, but Haechan puts a hand on the doorframe, and with his other hand he pulls on their intertwined hands.

She faces him with a bright smile, with a giggle. And like she knows exactly what’s happening, her eyelashes flutter and she tilts her head, and when he leans in to kiss her, she moves to meet him.

This kiss is better than the last.

Haechan feels like he’s had to wait another eternity from that night to this one, though it’s only been somewhere around a week. But every hour felt like an eon, and now it’s all coming to a point right here in this moment when she presses her body against his, her hands sliding around beneath his coat to hold onto his hips, to draw him against her as she leans against the side of her car. His fingers dive into her hair, braiding through the strands as she opens her mouth to his kiss.

He kisses her until he’s breathless, until she’s sighing his name against his lips, their breath clouding around their heads.

“Are we still going to that concert?” She asks, brushing her lips along his jaw. “Or do we want to skip and go right back home?”

The latter option sounds really good.

But Haechan wants to do this date properly.

“Concert first.” He suggests, leaving a too-short kiss on her tempting lips. “Then back to… to yours? To mine?”

“Mine,” she says with certainty. “My roommate’s gone for the weekend. And I’m sure YangYang is still at yours.”

Haechan nods and then laughs. “He threatened me when I told him I was taking you on a date tonight. He told me I’d better not scare you off with any of my pervy shit because you’re a good girl.” He kisses her again, laughing as she tries to slip him some tongue and keep him right there, but he pulls back. “I told him that you’re not as much of a good girl as you would’ve had all of us believing.”

“I’m a good girl,” she insists with a wide, mischievous grin that reaches her eyes.

“Bullshit, baby.” Haechan kisses her one last time before he reaches around her to pull on the door handle. “Get in the car, and after the concert is over, I’ll get my evidence that you’re absolutely not the innocent good girl most of our friends think you are.”

She just smiles as she slides into the passenger seat.

Again, Haechan is sorely tempted to drive back the way they came, to go back to her apartment instead of onward to the park beside the river. But he’s taking her to the concert specifically because he said he would, even if now she’s making that decision so hard to stick with.

As soon as he’s settled in the driver’s seat with the car turned on, she slides her hand over to his thigh.

“What are you doing?” He asks, trying to keep his tone casual.

“Nothing.” She just smiles, trying to look innocent, but that mischievous gleam in her eye gives her away. “How far of a drive is it?”

He types it into his phone, his toes curling in his shoes as she starts moving her hand up and down on his thigh. His GPS presents the answer, the automated voice announcing that it’s about a twenty minute drive.

“I can work with that,” she chimes, leaning her head against the headrest to look over at him. “What do you say, Haechan? You’ve been wined and dined, can I finally get a taste of you?”

Her hand slips higher, fingers brushing right along the center seam of his pants, over his balls, fondling as she finds his stiffening cock. He groans, dropping his head back. Is he meant to be able to say no to the offer? Not that he wants to say no. Sure, he’d wanted to do that whole proper date thing, but if she’s offering a handjob or road head right now, he can’t turn that down.

“Let me get us out of this parking garage, and then you can do whatever you like, angel.” Haechan hears a little shiver in his voice, excitement and arousal as he grips the steering wheel and twists in the driver’s seat, putting the car in reverse. “Just wait a minute, and then you can….”

She palms his cock again.

“You know,” she says, “I’ve been thinking of doing this since seeing you in Mr. Moon’s car. Specifically giving you a hand while you drive, I mean. Like I told you earlier, I’ve had a crush on you since orientation, so I’ve dreamed of jerking you off many, many more times before then. Among other things.”

It takes every ounce of his willpower to not look away from the car’s rear window as he backs up and tries checking his blind spots. He can’t look at her right now, no matter how much he’d like to. It’s too risky at the moment. There are too many fancy parked cars he could bump or back into, too high of a possibility that another car or a person walking could come along to hit. He focuses on backing out of their parking spot, and then passing along the curving path of the parking garage towards the exit below. But still her hand is kneading at his thigh or brushing the seam of his pants which is quickly growing strained as his swelling cock presses against it.

The moment that they’re out of the parking garage, her hand flies to his belt. When they’re sitting at a stoplight two seconds later, she’s unfastening it, fumbling it. Haechan takes his hands off the wheel and his eyes off the red light in front of them to help her undo the belt and the button and zipper of his pants. Her hand slides inside, and he moans the moment that her fingers wrap around his cock and draw him out into the open.

Her eyes gleam in the streetlights.

“No road head,” she explains. “It seems a little too risky at the moment since I don’t know how you’ll react, or how quickly you’re gonna cum.”

Haechan sneers. “What? You think I’m gonna last, like, five seconds or something? Baby, I think you already know better than that.”

She just smiles up at him. Her thumb slides in circles around his tip, and clear fluid is already gathering there, smeared around beneath her fingertip.

The light changes to green and Haechan steps on the gas.

And she starts moving her hand on him.

“You’re gonna make such a mess, aren’t you, Haechan?” She’s teasing him, and the worst part is, that he knows she’s right. He does tend to make a bit of a mess, especially when he’s sitting in a car still fully dressed. He’s gonna get it all over his pants, but at least he’s got a coat that’ll cover the front of his pants when they get to the park.

She strokes his cock slowly, but that doesn’t mean that every single motion doesn’t unfurl pleasure from the base of his spine, sending tendrils of arousal through his veins.

Haechan does his best to focus on the road, to not just melt into the heat of her palm around his cock, to not dissolve when she leans over and drools spit down onto him to ease the glide a little more.

“Fuck,” he curses, loosening one hand from the wheel to lay it against the back of her head. But she sits up instead of sinking her pretty lips around him. He doesn’t move his hand, just braids his fingers through her hair, tugging lightly when she squeezes her hand around him on the slow upstroke.

Haechan blows down the streets of the city.

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t run any red lights or stop signs. He doesn’t crash into any cars, curbs, or pedestrians. So he must be doing something right even as his focus starts to slip.

A knot of pleasure is tightening between his navel and his cock.

“If you haven’t cum by the time we get there,” she sighs, leaning closer to touch her lips to his neck — his cock twitches, a blurt of precum leaking from the tip — and she continues, “Then as soon as you put this car in park I really want to sit on your cock, Haechannie. It just looks so wonderful. Since you sent me that first video, I thought so. You’ll fill me so well, stretch me so nicely, and I bet you’d like to cum inside me like that wouldn’t you? With me riding you in the car? Like that video you stole from Renjun’s phone.”

Haechan’s hips jolt off the seat, driving his cock up into the tight fit of her fist. That video…. So hot. He’d thought about it and watched it quite a few times since he sent it to himself. The way the girl in the video’s ass had bounced, how her pussy had swallowed Renjun’s cock so nicely, and Haechan knew that his own cock was bigger than Renjun’s and it would’ve stretched that pussy even nicer. He’d fantasized too often about that, getting ridden in a hot, sweaty car, cumming inside her with his cum then dripping down her thighs. He’d wondered for a few weeks after Thailand, wondering who the girl had been, wondering if Haechan could track her down and get to experience that for himself. Of course, by that point, he’d already kind of started to realize he might have feelings for the beautiful woman who currently has his cock in her hand, so he’d given up on that brief fantasy.

She kisses Haechan’s neck again, her hand massaging just right beneath his cock tip. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Like you told me, you’ve gotten off to that video so many times. It’s your favorite.” Her teeth skim his skin, and Haechan’s heart thunders, pleasure arcing through him.

“Wouldn’t it just blow your mind, Haechan, if I told you that I’m the girl in that video?”

His mind goes blank. The world whites out for a second as his orgasm pulses through him. Only a self-preservation instinct keeps him from crashing the car as Haechan cums in sticky white ropes all over her hand and her steering wheel and his lap.

She’s the girl in that video?

She’s the girl riding Renjun in the car with the gorgeous ass and beautiful pussy, the one who’d ridden Renjun’s cock like a professional cockrider? The one with Renjun’s handprints on her ass, cum spilling down her perfect thighs beneath the sundress.

It makes sense, now that he actually thinks about it.

He knew that she’d fucked around with Renjun during that period of time, but for some reason, he’d never considered that she was the one in the video. Then that must mean that she was also the girl in the other pictures and videos. How many times had he watched her without knowing it was her? How many times had he cum, fantasizing about her body and her moans without realizing they were hers?

It’s the sound of the center console popping open that breaks Haechan out of his daze. She’s rummaging through the contents of her car’s center console until she comes up with a pack of wet wipes.

“What are you doing?” Haechan asks.

“Cleaning you up.” She pulls a wipe out, cleaning her hand off first, and her wrist, then she tries to wipe his cum off her steering wheel.

He’s silent for a moment, but then he asks, “Is it really you in that video?”

She looks up, barely more than a cursory glance, then says, “Yes. It’s me. He told me he’d told Jaehyun about the night that he and I exchanged orgasms during the movie, and Jaehyun wanted to watch us together. I was horny, he was willing to show off, so we fucked right here in this seat.” She points to the spot she’s sitting. “In the back of a parking lot on campus. That was my one request when he asked me if we could fuck for Jaehyun to watch, to do it somewhere semi-public.”

“Who’s the pervert now?” Haechan teases, but his heart is pounding in his chest, just picturing the scene from an outside perspective: her and Renjun in this car on campus. It would’ve been so easy to catch them. But right now it’s more than that, he wants to be in Renjun’s spot more than ever — to have her riding him in the passenger seat of her car in broad daylight.

“All of those pictures and videos in Renjun’s phone…. All of them with a girl, those were me,” she admits quietly, still wiping down little spots in the car. “We weren’t a thrupple, I never got physically involved with Jaehyun, never even got to watch the two of them together, but every time that Renjun and I were together there was either photo or video or audio evidence. Sometimes we called Jaehyun and he would listen in or tell us what to do. It was all really hot.”

When Haechan looks over, she’s squirming in her seat a little.

He’s still driving, but according to the GPS they’re almost there. She takes a new wipe to dab gently at the cum on the front of his pants.

She tosses the used wipes to the floor at her feet, and then she shifts in her seat.

Haechan glances over at her, curious, watching as she rearranges herself until her chest is against the center console. His heart picks up a thunderous pace. “I thought you said no road head?” He asks, moving his hand to the back of her head again.

“Hey, Lee Donghyuck. It’s not too late for me to change my mind again. Keep your mouth shut or else I won’t do it.” She threatens, but he can tell that she’s going to do it regardless of what he says right now. She’s licking her lips, eyes fixed on his softening cock still wet with his cum. “You just keep your eyes on the road. Focus on getting us to our destination in one piece because now that we’ve talked about that video, I really, really have my heart set on riding you when we get there.”

Haechan does exactly as she says. He looks ahead at the road, noticing that they have just one more light, just one more right turn after that, and they’ll be in the parking lot.

Her tongue swipes along the side of his cock.

She makes a soft hum, and then she licks again, and then, as they pass over a slight bump in the road, she sucks the soft head of his cock between her lips.

“Fuck!” Haechan groans, risking a look down.

It’s worth it. Even if he’d crashed the car right then, the glimpse he’d caught of her with her pretty lips spread around his cock, her eyes watching his face, it would’ve been worth it.

She sucks his cock, bobbing her head, tongue working to clean the cum that had spilled down his length from his previous orgasm. And she keeps moaning, humming with these little sounds of delight. His fingers tighten in her hair, and he can feel the blood rushing to his cock once more, him growing hard on her tongue.

As he turns the car into the parking lot, he tugs at her hair. “We’re here,” he says.

She sits up, letting his cock fall from her lips as she wipes at the corners of her mouth.

The parking lot isn’t full, but there is a decently sized crowd. Haechan pulls into the first open spot he can find, which just happens to be in a perfectly private spot. There’s a streetlight nearby putting off a silvery glow, making this spot just public enough to satisfy the woman in the passenger seat’s exhibitionist nature.

“Well, angel?” He asks as he puts the car in park and pulls the key out of the ignition. “Are you all talk or are you gonna come sit on my cock like a good girl?”

For a moment, he thinks she’s actually about to tell him no as she glances out the car windows. Which would be fine, of course. If she didn’t actually want to ride him right now and had just been saying that to rile him up, that’s fine. They’ll just go watch the concert.

But then she’s moving, hiking up the long skirt she’s wearing tonight, stockings on beneath it, and she’s slipping over the center console into his lap.

Haechan’s hands move to her hips. His breath catches in his throat as he looks at her, both of them face to face. There’s a glimmer of saliva at the corner of her lips, and he lifts a hand to wipe it away with his thumb.

“You’re so beautiful.” The words come out without him meaning to actually say them.

“Are you just saying that because I just had your cock in my mouth?” She smiles, mirroring his position by lifting a hand to his face as well. “Or because I’m offering to ride you?”

Haechan shakes his head. “Secret third option: I’m saying it because it’s just true.”

By the streetlight’s glow, Haechan watches her face take on a flustered expression. She shifts in his lap, her thighs and ass moving against his thighs, her knees bump against his hips. Her thumb slides along his cheek, drawing connecting lines between his moles.

He likes holding her just like this. Having her close and warm in his arms, the gentle fragrance of her perfume lulling him into a calm state where he could just sit here and look at her forever. He forgets that he has his cock out still and that she’s in his lap because she wanted to ride his cock. Her eyes are sparkling, her expression bright, and her hand on his cheek is so light that he wants to just lean into it. Of course, he still wants to feel her around his cock, still wants to have her moaning his name while he makes her feel good, her breath gasping against his lips as they rock this car and draw attention to themselves. But he’s perfectly content like this too, and that thought kinda surprises him.

Haechan is almost always horny, always thinking about sex. But right now, he’d be fine with just tucking his cock away again, taking her hand and going to enjoy the concert.

“Can we do this later?” He asks quietly, afraid of breaking this fragile moment. Her thumb twitches on his cheek, her mouth twisting a little, so Haechan quickly explains, “I want to do it right the first time. When we have sex for the first time, I don’t want it to be cramped in the car when there’s a concert happening nearby. The general public is right there, any random stranger may walk by, but…” He lifts his hand up to cup her hand against his cheek, which he leans into. “I want to take my time with you, babe. Just us.”

She smiles. “That’s a romantic notion, Lee Donghyuck.”

“I told you not to call me that.” But he isn’t so sure that he means it. He likes the way his name sounds from her lips, the way that her pretty mouth forms those sounds, curling into almost a smile around the Lee, a circle around the Dong, and then with another smile as she finishes out with the Hyuck. He would like the sound of anything she called him, honestly.

“Oh, sorry,” she teases, leaning closer until her lips brush his ear. “Daddy?”

Haechan laughs.

He pinches her cheek. “That’s not quite right either, but I like the attempt. Let’s go enjoy the concert, angel, and then I’ll take you home for some proper romance.”

She opens the driver’s side door, sliding out onto her feet, and Haechan takes an extra moment to stuff his cock back inside his pants, to grab the car keys and his phone, and as he pulls himself from the car, he checks to make sure that his coat covers up any of the stains from where his cum dripped earlier. He grabs a folded blanket from her backseat, and tucks it under his arm.

He takes her hand again, and this time she hides their hands in the warmth of her coat pocket as they walk towards the site of the show. Haechan leans into her, arms knocking together, and he starts talking, telling her about how this is his friend Doyoung, who he met through one of the music courses he took as electives during university. Doyoung is attempting to launch his career, and he’s been signed to a company, though he’s still working to make a big name for himself.

It’s a small stage with a decently sized crowd. Haechan notices that plenty of other people brought chairs for the lawn in front of the stage or they’ve brought blankets to sit on or wrap up in. Someone got a food truck for Doyoung that sits nearby with words of encouragement on the signage. They’re selling hot coffee, hot chocolate, and some warm snacks.

They find a good spot to sit, and Haechan wraps the blanket around both of them as they sit down on the grass. She snuggles up to his side, drops her head onto his shoulder. The bauble on the top of her hat tickles his chin, but he doesn’t complain. He just lets her get comfortable, and when she shivers a little more, Haechan unwraps his scarf from around his neck to bundle it around her instead.

“No,” she protests, trying to untwist it, pushing it back into his hands. “You’ll catch a cold.”

Stubbornly, Haechan just places the scarf once more around her, winding it in loops around her neck. “I’ll be fine. You’re the one that keeps shivering.”

She frowns at him from above the pile of the scarf. “That’s because someone had the bright idea to have an outdoor concert in the middle of winter.”

“Do you want me to grab you a hot chocolate or a hot coffee?” Haechan offers.

She shakes her head no very quickly, dropping her head down onto his shoulder again, and clinging tightly to him beneath their blanket, her hand twisting in his sweater. “Nope, you can stay right here. You can keep me warm.”

He’s going to do exactly that. He wraps both of his arms around her, drawing her closer.

The concert starts just a few minutes later. Doyoung emerges on the stage and sings his heart-aching ballads, his sweet love songs, brighter sounding covers of pop songs. Haechan is surprised to find that there is a group of girls going wild for Doyoung, singing and dancing along to his songs, which means that even though he’s not a big name yet, that’s the beginning of his fanbase.

Beside him, snuggled against Haechan’s side, his date tonight hums along to the pop songs.

As the concert begins to draw towards the end just an hour later, Doyoung takes a pause on the stage to scan the crowd. Haechan notices the way he squints against the lights, his hand flexing around the microphone set in the stand. The fangirls go wild, waving and calling for his attention, but Doyoung keeps looking around until finally his eyes meet Haechan’s. He grins brightly and leans into the mic.

Haechan’s heart begins to race.

He’d told Doyoung he was definitely coming tonight after the invitation went out. He’d mentioned he was bringing a girl out for their first date, and Haechan had only told him that to tease his hyung, to tell him that Doyoung really needed to give his best performance to impress Haechan’s date. But judging by the gleam in Doyoung’s smile where it reaches his eyes, Haechan is about to face the repercussions of telling Doyoung about this.

“I have a friend here in the crowd tonight,” Doyoung says, his voice magnified in the winter night. “He’s here on a first date with a girl he’s known for years and only just gotten the nerve to ask out. In his honor, our last song of the night is going to be a sweet love song! If you know the words, sing along! And even if you don’t, it’s a great song to dance with your lover.”

She sits up, lifting her head from his shoulder, and she turns her head. Haechan can feel her eyes on him. He glances slyly at her, just looking at her from the corner of his eye as he faces Doyoung on the stage. The music starts, and all around them in the crowd, couples get to their feet. An elderly couple that had been sitting in the back on a bench starts slowly dancing together as Doyoung begins crooning into the mic.

“Do you want to dance?” She asks quietly beside him.

Haechan doesn’t hesitate to push the blankets from his shoulders, rising to his feet, and reaching back down for her hand. She keeps the blanket draped around her shoulders, still bundled in her hat and his scarf too, but she lets Haechan pull her to her feet. He brings her hand up to his shoulder, holding her gaze, and she brings her other arm up to curl around the back of his neck.

When he slides his arm around her waist, pulling her body against his, he relaxes. They don’t really dance. Not properly. They just sway back and forth with their arms around each other, a juvenile dance in comparison to the grander style that some other couples are dancing right now. Haechan lowers his head to rest his forehead against hers.

This isn’t much really, but it’s the best first date he’s ever been on.

“How would you say I’m doing?” He asks, his heart beating a little nervously in his throat. “On a scale of one to ten?”

She’s quiet for a couple seconds too long. “Well, right now I’d say a three.”

His heart drops down to his stomach.

“For the dancing alone, Haechan. Don’t stress.” She smiles, tightening her arms around his neck in a way that presses their chests closer together, and he wonders if she can feel his heart pounding. Her words only slightly put him at ease, but when she laughs, it does help a little more.

“Do you want some professional ballroom dancing from me?” Haechan asks. “You want me to twirl you and sweep you off your feet?” He bends her backwards, and she shrieks out a laugh that has him quickly pulling her back up securely against him as heads turn their way.

She moves her head to the side, her laugh warm now where her lips press against his cheek.

“No need for that. Just hold me like this. And as for the rank on a scale for the overall date,” her voice is warm and bright, a lighthearted tease as she says, “Definitely a solid nine and a half.”

Haechan nods, suppressing a shiver of arousal as her lips skim along his jaw. “And the half a point deduction?”

“Because it’s too fucking cold. I’m having fun, I like this concert, but I’d so much rather be back at my place in my nice warm bed. With you.” And with those words, she kisses him, her fingers pressing into his hair and against the back of his neck.

He kisses her too. Hungrily, deeply, wanting nothing more than to tear that blanket from her shoulders, spread it out on the ground, and lay her down on top of it to get to feel her body warm and bare beneath him and around him. He wants her now.

“Fuck me,” he mumbles, cursing himself for choosing not to go through with it in the car earlier, cursing himself for not just doing dinner and then taking her home. Haechan just wants her right now.

Specifically, he only wants her.

No one else around but her. Fuck the whole exhibitionist and voyeur thing they’ve been doing. He doesn’t want to share her right now. He wants her all alone with just him in the privacy of a bedroom, tucked between soft sheets that tangle around their legs and wrinkle beneath their bodies as he drives himself into her again and again. He wants to feel her moans where their chests press together, to feel her body reacting to him in uncontrollable bursts — the hiccup of her breath when he strokes just right inside her, the twitch of her thighs against his hips, the way she’ll squirm and circle her hips as her orgasm approaches, her pussy squeezing around him trying to draw him deeper, deeper….

The whole rest of the world fades away.

The singing, the music, the crowd, even the wintry chill.

Everything is her.

Her breath, her perfume. The heat of her mouth and her body. The feel of her hands in his hair, her body in his arms, the throbbing of their hearts. Her voice just a breathy sigh of his name, lips making the syllables of his name sound perfect. “Lee Donghyuck,” she sighs, “Can we go?”

As if he could deny her anything she asked right now. She could ask him for murder and he’d probably do it. The stars, the moon, the whole damn galaxy and beyond.

Is this what it is to be in love?

Is he in love?

He lowers his mouth to her throat, lips moving along the column of her throat, tongue tracing along the rapid beat of her pulse. Her fingers tighten in his hair with a quiet gasp.

A million moments flash in his mind. The past, the present, the possibilities of the future. Her.

Damn it. He’s in love.

He doesn’t spare another glance towards the stage. Doesn’t pay attention to anyone he passes by as he pulls her along to the car. Or maybe she’s pulling him. Either way, they’re racing quickly towards where they parked the car.

Luckily it’s a shorter drive from here back to hers than it had been from the restaurant to here.

“I want to fuck you in your bed. Properly.” Haechan gasps as she pins him up against the driver’s side door of the car. Her lips are on his again, her hands gripping the front of his coat. “Just wait ten minutes, babe, and—“

She kisses him quiet, and he lets her. For now. She can take anything she wants right now. But as soon as they’re in her apartment, he’s going to be in charge. He’ll have her gasping and sighing and being such a good girl for him.

“I’m so tired of waiting,” she whines. She drops her forehead to his chest. “Do you know how long I’ve liked you, Haechan? How long I’ve wanted you like this? I feel like if we don’t fuck within the next thirty minutes I’m going to explode.”

Amusement and arousal swarm through Haechan’s mind, obscuring any other possible forms of thought.

Here she is, whining for him to fuck her.

“Get in the car.” He swats a hand down against her ass. “The sooner you do that, the sooner I’ll have you home. How was it that you phrased it? Back at your place in your nice warm bed. With me. Passenger seat, princess. Keep your hands to yourself, and we’ll get there much faster.”

Of course, she takes his instructions to heart, and no sooner has she buckled her seat belt and he’s backing out of the parking spot than she’s got her hands on herself.

She makes it difficult to focus on driving when he can see her hand on her chest, her other hand lifting the long hem of her skirt revealing an utter lack of panties again. His hold on the steering wheel slips, the car swerving as he turns out onto the main road.

She keeps her hands to herself certainly. Warming herself up, getting herself ready for him.

The world tonight is painted in hues of lust. In vivid lusty reds smeared like lipstick over skin and smooth silky shades of black, shimmering yellows and golds of headlights, the amber and orange of streetlamps flashing over bared skin in the passenger seat. Green lights spark through Haechan’s consciousness, only noticing them long enough to keep speeding forward, his hand inching across the center console to her bare thigh. Electric blue blur of the letters on the radio display in the dashboard, spelling out the titles of songs that Haechan can’t even hear over the sound of his own pulse and the sound of her voice growing raspy with lust around each sigh and moan, the soft whimpers of his name as her fingers move. There’s the purple shadows in the indents where his fingers press in, spreading her legs, pulling her thigh toward him so when he next glances over he can see it. The pretty shade of her pussy around her fingers.

Haechan could paint a whole new world with the colors he sees right now. And in that world it would be only him and her, this woman in the seat beside him right now.

She cums on her fingers, his name on her lips.

Haechan is no artist or poet, but in that moment, as he pulls up to park at her apartment building, as he looks over at her where she’s all but melted into the passenger seat with a satisfied smile on her lips, he thinks he could be.

He could paint a portrait of her like she is right now and hang it in the Louvre. He could write poems for her, about how she looks right now, how she makes him feel, and he would happily hear them read across the world.

He wants them all to know. Every single person.

He’s in love.

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

a/n: I'm genuinely so excited for y'all to read this chapter and the next one! I know how long you've all been patiently waiting for this slow burn to reach the peak where you finally get the burn, and I swear to you that it's finally coming in the next chapter. This chapter gave you just that little taste. But what do you think! Please let me know all your thoughts because I'm loving the feedback (both the compliments and the critiques! Keep them all coming!) Thank you so much for reading, and I really can't wait for next Tuesday to come for y'all to get the next chapter 😉

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faby-montana · 8 months

Text

REAL LITERATURE IS BACK !

(this single-handedly got me back into reading ff🤭)

You In My Arms

Chapter 7: An Eye For An Eye

full masterlist || haechan masterlist || YIMA chapter index

summary: now that the truth is out in the open, you find it harder than ever to keep yourself from wanting Haechan constantly. But at least now you know that he wants you just as much.

length: 9,317 words

tags: voyeurism, exhibitionism, slowburn, friends to lovers, masturbation, public sex, fingering, general perversion, smut

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

Waking the next morning, you stare up at the ceiling for a good long while. Remembering yesterday, remembering last night.

You got the truth from Haechan. You shared secrets.

He kissed you.

And still, you feel giddy about it, like a young girl with her first kiss.

Haechan kissed you.

You kissed him.

You cover your face with your hands to muffle the excited sound that spills from your lips.

What happens now?

You go through your day as normal. You clean the apartment, you and your roommate make a grocery run in the mid-afternoon, and then as the day creeps towards evening, your thoughts start to turn and focus exclusively on Haechan. Thinking of what you’d said to him before he first kissed you. An eye for an eye; a truth for a truth. You want equality, which means he’s watched you, so you want to watch him. Properly watch him instead of just from a distance in the dark, though you didn’t share that particular truth with him last night.

Your roommate leaves for the night to go on a date with her partner and then stay at their place. Which leaves you to fend for yourself for the night. Before she got into this relationship, the two of you spent many Friday and Saturday nights together here in the living room, bundled up in blankets with takeout from a variety of your favorite places. But tonight you either have to decide on a place for yourself, or you can throw together dinner from what you’d bought earlier at the grocery store.

Unsure what you really want, you just play around on your phone until your brain and your stomach can come to an agreement on what to eat.

You scroll on Twitter for a little while, get lost down a TikTok rabbit hole until the sky outside is dark and the time staring back at you reads quarter after nine. You switch to Instagram, and right there at the top of your screen it shows that one haechanahceah has added to his story.

You tap on it.

He’s holding his phone close to his face as he laughs, the blue sky of twilight barely visible behind him along with a flash of YangYang’s face and toothy smile. The sound of wind rushes against the microphone. The camera flips and you see a skateboard under his feet, pavement rushing by, and then a path stretching out along the river.

The next part to his story: pictures of food covering a table. Haechan tagged several other people, though YangYang and Ten’s are the only usernames that you recognize from them.

Drinks. Everyone clinking their glasses together.

And then the most recent addition to his story is just a simple picture of the moon shining like a fat pearl in the velvet night sky. There’s a song playing, lyrics scrolling over the image of the moon, and it’s a song of neediness, desire, longing.

It was posted five minutes ago.

And just as you’re about to close out of the app and order yourself some dinner, your phone chimes with a message.

“Are you doing anything right now?” From Haechan.

When you don’t answer immediately, you receive a second message from him. “I saw that you just watched my story. Don’t pretend like you’re not on your phone.”

You call him.

He answers immediately.

Judging by the lack of wind, you assume he’s not outside any longer. And furthermore, the silence in the background makes you think he might not even be with the others anymore.

“Hello?” He says, a little breathlessly.

“What did you want?”

Silence, then a slight rustling sound. Then, “I was just wondering if you were free or if you’re busy. I’ve been out with some guys all day, I just got home, and I want to send you something.”

“Oh?” You cradle your phone against your face. “Like what?”

“How was it that you phrased it yesterday?” Haechan pauses, as if thinking, then says, “Oh, right. You said you want equality. You want to watch me, since I’ve watched you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, sending pulsing heat to your extremities. “Haechan….”

“So let me ask again,” his voice dips lower, asking, “Are you doing anything right now? Can I send you something?”

All thoughts of dinner have been removed from your mind. The only hunger you feel now is for what Haechan is offering you through the phone.

“I’m not doing anything.” You hope your voice isn’t shaking, that you don’t sound nervous or over-excited. “Send it.”

He laughs a little under his breath, and you know that you failed at sounding so cavalier. The eagerness and hunger bled through in your voice.

“Alright, I’m hanging up now.” Haechan’s own voice is light with amusement and excitement. “I’ll send it shortly.”

After the call goes dead on his end of the line, you sit there, clutching your phone in your hands, perched on the edge of the sofa. You wonder if you should order food, if you should just try to eat something. It’s late. If you’re going to eat tonight, you’d better do it now before you get so swept up that you forget to eat altogether. And where do you want to watch this video at? Do you want to just watch it out here? Or should you close yourself away in the privacy of your bedroom, snug in your bed to witness exactly what you’ve been longing to see for so long now?

You think back to the night that started all of this interest in watching and being watched. The night of the hot tub. The first time that you felt there could genuinely be a little something more than just friendship between you and Haechan as you shared that bed with him. You remember longingly noticing the bulge in the front of his shorts when he’d emerged from the hot tub’s water, and you remember about an hour later when he’d stripped beside you in the dark. It had been quite dark, but not dark enough that you hadn’t caught the barest glimpse of his ass and just the shadowy hint of his cock.

But now? Now your curiosity will be satisfied.

You snack on something you pull from the pantry, waiting and waiting and waiting. After twenty minutes, you send him a text with a bunch of question marks.

“Patience baby” is all you get back from Haechan.

But the thing is, you’re feeling rather impatient. You’re horny now, excited thinking about getting to watch him. You do move to your bedroom, closing the door, turning the lights down, tucking yourself in with your phone held to your chest. You’re going to enjoy this.

Finally after too fucking long, your phone chimes again.

When you open the message, the rectangle of the video is just black.

You tap play, and it fills your screen, still black.

For a moment, you think something’s wrong with the video, but then you hear sound. The rustle of sheets. A shuddering breath. Something moving in the dark, which you realize a moment later is the shadow of some part of Haechan’s body against the faint light of his computer’s blinking power button.

What is this? You wanted to see him, not just hear him.

And then the video is illuminated as his bedside lamp is clicked on. The phone camera passes over rumpled sheets. There’s a flicker of tanned skin, the curve of his bare thigh. You hold your breath as at last the camera focuses on the fit of his fingers around his dick.

It’s pretty and tan, just like the rest of him.

His cock is actually bigger than you imagined it would be. You figured Haechan would be a little below average in terms of size, if you’re being honest, but the cock you’re looking at on your phone screen exceeds your expectations. He’s probably average in length, but damn, he’s thick from base to the tip, which is a pretty shade of pink that reminds you of his lips. He’s got a perfect cock, in your opinion. Right away, you want him in your mouth, your throat aches for it.

And then you just sit back and watch the video, admiring the way he touches himself, the sounds he makes, the way that as he gets close to orgasm his hips twitch off the bed to rock into the circle of his fingers. You drink everything in, hungrily consuming the video to notice all the small details. The small scattering of moles across his belly and thighs and his arm and hand. The dusting of hair leading from below his navel to the base of his cock.

You’ve been with a decent amount of men. You’ve seen cocks, touched them, tasted them, had them inside you. But you’ve never had Haechan’s, and the longer you sit here watching, the more that you feel like this video is just a cruel tease.

Is that how he felt while watching the video feed of you masturbating in the office? Like it was just a cruel tease of what he couldn’t have?

Haechan moans your name in the video and your belly goes tight and hot at the sound, a whined praise from his lips.

How long would it take you to get to his apartment right now?

His hand flies over his length in the video, his moans like music to your ears. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, “Baby, bet your pussy would be so tight around me right now, so wet and slippery. I know you get super wet. Are you wet right now?”

Fuck. Yeah, you are. You’re not touching yourself though, too caught up in simply watching him to want to take away from it. But your core is throbbing with heat, panties soaked through.

“You’d be taking my cock so well, angel.” Haechan gives one sharp thrust into his hand, his heels digging into the mattress as his hips lift off the bed. “Do you think you’d be a good girl for me? Do whatever I ask? Would you get on your knees and beg for me?”

If you were there right now, you certainly would be on your knees, mouth open wide, tongue out for his cock. You would let Haechan make such a mess of you. You would let him cum on your tits and your throat in public, and you would proudly wear that pearl necklace like a prize.

“Or would I need to punish you? You’ve shown me how naughty you can be.” He moans, passing his thumb right over the weeping slit of his cock. “What would even be a good punishment for you? Taking you out in public, teasing you, but not letting you cum? Sit you on my cock in front of all of our friends, tease you nice and slow while you keep my cock warm. But, no, you would enjoy that too much, wouldn’t you? What if I didn’t allow you to cum? Would that be punishment enough? I’d have to take you home, angel, edge you for as many times as you nearly gave us away.”

Your toes curl at the sound of his words, and you feel your pussy clench around nothing. You can’t take it anymore.

You slip your fingers inside your panties, dipping them through your wetness.

Haechan moans again, and your entire body buzzes and flares with heat in response.

“I’ve never really done anything in public before, not quite like you,” Haechan says, still fisting his cock. “Only ever when I’m tucked out of sight, in semi-privacy, or after dark.” His hand holding his phone shakes, his breath shudders. “But you make me want to try getting a little riskier.”

You can just imagine it now. Taking Haechan out with you like you’d tried to do with a few of those random guys you hooked up with. Taking him to the park to have some fun on a picnic, tucked in a corner of the aquarium as the pretty fish swim by, fucking around in the car on a hot summer day with the windows down and your sweaty bodies exposed to the sunlight.

You fuck yourself on your fingers, trying to keep your eyes focused on the video, but your vision grows hazy with lust, fantasies sweeping into your mind to overlay the visual of Haechan squeezing his hand around his cock with a groan, bucking his hips up into the tight grip of his fist as he finally cums with your name on his lips. Pearly drops coat his fingers, landing on his belly, and he keeps touching until he cums weakly again, spurting from his cock onto his belly too, all of it gathering in the dip of his belly button.

You want to lick him clean, gather it all on your tongue and let it leak over his dick again before you blow him just to see how quick his refractory period is.

You replay the video, and this time you touch yourself. You fold a pillow on the bed, straddle it, and ride your fingers while you hump the pillow, keeping the volume on his video loud where your phone lies beside your knee. You close your eyes and imagine that you’re riding him, fucking yourself on his cock instead of your fingers, that your clit is gaining friction from contact with him instead of your pillow. You imagine that it’s his hand coming down on your ass, a sharp smack that leaves your skin smarting; that it’s his fingers that pinch at your nipples; his shoulders that your fingernails dig into instead of the mattress.

You slump to the side, fingers still slowly pumping as your body trembles from your orgasm. Your free hand searches the bed for your phone and when you swipe out of the video, you see Haechan has sent you a few more messages that you somehow missed.

One is a closeup photo of his belly, shiny and wet with his cum. One is a simple question of “did you like it?” And then the third and final message is just a steamy mirror selfie, where only a circle to show his face has been wiped clean on the mirror, and the rest of his nude body is blurred out by the steam.

You simply respond with a picture of your hand, cum stretching between your fingers, more wetness dripping down your palm. “I liked it.”

Monday morning, you don’t see Haechan at all before you go into your meeting with Taeil. It’s probably for the best. You wouldn’t be able to focus on the meeting if you’d seen Haechan; instead you’d be lost in dreamland, thinking of his cock, the rasp of his voice as he moaned your name.

So you walk into the meeting with a clear head, which makes it run smoothly and successfully. Taeil is proud of you, he’d told you, stating that you worked hard and efficiently on the project, finishing it in less time than it would’ve taken anyone else. And he doesn’t say it in so many words necessarily, but he does hint that there might be a promotion coming up for you.

You leave the meeting ecstatic, and the feeling carries you through the rest of the day.

Tuesday, Haechan gets called away for a business meeting on the other side of the city. Wednesday, it’s your turn. Annoyingly, now that you’re finished with the project and finally thought you’d have some free time, something has always got one or the other of you busy.

You’re never at work at the same time for that whole week, and that weekend he goes home to visit his family.

You receive a video then of him on the beach at home, the sunset stretching out before him, and Haechan jerking off. He sends it along with the message “since I once saw you by the ocean, this is only fair,” which he explains he meant he watched you and Renjun in that outdoor shower in Thailand.

You message each other back and forth constantly that weekend. Just casual conversations and then also the deeper, dirtier kind of conversations. More talk about his watching and your enjoyment of being watched, his new experimentation with exhibitionism. You talk about more things — other kinks and interests. His somewhat unsurprising interest in consensual non-consent. Your interest in a threesome, which you’ve never participated in; Haechan follows this up in recounting what he’s experienced.

Come the following Monday morning, following all of that talk with none of the action, you’re itching with the need to see him. To actually be in the same space as Haechan.

That need for proximity only grows when you walk into the office and spot Haechan sitting at his desk just a short distance from yours.

He’s sipping at an iced americano, spinning back and forth in his chair as he stares at the desktop computer’s screen. He turns to catch your eye as you pass him. Your fingertips brush the back of his chair, just barely touching the fabric of his shirt, but he turns his entire seat to follow you with his eyes.

“You smell nice today,” he says.

You turn to look at him, and Haechan’s eyes are currently trailing down your legs. The skirt you’d worn today is perhaps a bit shorter than entirely appropriate, but it has captured his attention fully. He hungrily stares at your thighs, your calves, the way that your heels hug your feet. And then his attention sweeps up to your face again.

“Do you have plans later?” He asks even as you keep walking away to your own desk.

You don’t, and you tell him that, but before he can suggest any plans for you and him, someone else speaks up from where you hadn’t even noticed her.

Taeil’s secretary.

“Oh, Channie!” You cringe as she uses a nickname for Haechan. “Mr. Moon was actually wondering if you could help him out later. You have a friend that’s a mechanic, right? Mr. Moon’s car has been acting up, so he was wondering if you wouldn’t mind taking it for your friend to look at?”

Haechan barely conceals his scowl. The friend in question is Chenle, who recently took his history of wealth, an interest in the inner workings of luxury cars and what he’d learned while studying for a business degree, and he opened a car repair shop business — a far cry from the culinary degree he’d mentioned pursuing when you last saw him.

“Sure, I can take it to him. But his shop is expensive. He typically only works on luxury cars,” Haechan says. And as far as you’re aware, Mr. Moon drives a Hyundai to and from work everyday, not exactly a luxury vehicle.

The secretary just smiles. “That’s fine! Mr. Moon recently upgraded to a BMW.”

Hours later, as you’re leaving for the day, you follow Haechan down along with Mr. Moon’s secretary to see the car. It is in fact a shiny, brand new BMW. You wouldn’t think there would be anything wrong with it at all since it looks like it just rolled right out of the factory into this spot in the parking garage.

The secretary passes the keys over to Haechan, and you don’t miss the nervous way his eyes widen as he takes in the feel of the keys in his hand and then eyes the length of the flawless and expensive car.

“You’re sure he wants me to take it? He doesn’t want to? I could give you directions, and give my friend a call.” Haechan’s fingers close around the keys.

She shakes her head, smiling widely as she looks from Haechan to you and then back again. “Mr. Moon has a flight to catch for that conference in Germany. So he’s unavailable to take the car right now, and since he’ll be out of the country for the next week, it just makes sense to have it get worked on while he’s gone.” And then she passes a card over to Haechan as well. “You can charge the mechanic’s bill on this card. And once the car’s finished if you wouldn’t mind just bringing it right back here, and you can leave the key and the card in his office. Thank you, Channie, we both really appreciate it!”

And then she’s walking off, leaving you and Haechan standing there to gaze at the car.

“You do have your license, don’t you?” You ask.

Haechan nods wordlessly. “Yeah, but shit. I’ve never even been in a car this nice; I’ve definitely never driven one as nice as this.”

He unlocks the car, and you watch as he nervously reaches for the door handle. The door opens smoothly, soundlessly, unlike your car which groans loudly pretty much every time you touch it.

The interior of the car is a cool, sleek black. The dashboard is a screen that comes to life the moment Haechan turns the car on. The engine purrs, and Haechan settles into the driver’s seat, making himself right at home.

“How do I look?” He asks, gripping the steering wheel and staring ahead through the windshield. “Do I look like I could drive one of these?”

You laugh. “You look hot, Haechan. Like a very, very wealthy man who uses flashy cars to impress people.”

He glances over at you. “Is that what you think Taeil’s doing? Using the car to impress, possibly to compensate?”

“Impress yes. Compensate?” You look Haechan in the eye as you say, “I think you’d be the one who could tell me that. Does he have anything to compensate for?” Haechan’s admitted that he’s watched Taeil fuck the secretary through his hidden cameras, so he should know if Taeil’s gotten a flashy car to compensate for dick size or his skills in bed.

Haechan shakes his head. “No, he’s fine. Just to impress people then. And it’s definitely working because I’m impressed.” He buckles his seatbelt, adjusting the seat height and distance from the steering wheel, readjusting the mirrors. He does look very hot in the driver’s seat of this nice car. The suit he’d worn to the office today and the pair of sunglasses that he plucks from the cup holder certainly help with the vibe.

He closes the car door, and a moment later rolls down the dark-tinted window so you can see him again.

“You want to come with me?”

You lean in, resting your elbows on the edge of the window. Your face is only inches away from Haechan’s, and that delicious fragrance he wears is all you know for a few delirious seconds. You can envision yourself sliding onto the buttery soft leather of the passenger seat. You can envision convincing Haechan to pull over into another parking garage or a park’s parking lot, into anywhere at all and letting you ride him in the driver's seat of this fancy car, finally getting to experience his cock for real.

You think you can see some of your fantasy playing out behind the dark brown of his eyes too. He’s smiling with a little edge of heat.

“I shouldn’t.” You take a step back. “I know I said I didn’t have plans, and I haven’t seen Chenle in a while so it would be nice to see him, but I have a feeling that if I get in that car with you…” You meet Haechan’s gaze. “I feel like I’d be distracting you a little too much. Or at least I would want to.”

Your gaze drifts from his eyes to the curl of his hand on the wheel. You don’t think you’d even be out of this parking garage before you’d already be tugging his hand to rest on your thigh, urging his fingers up beneath your skirt. After a week of being denied Haechan’s physical presence in your life, a week filled with nothing but want for every part of him, you feel like an addict being presented with their drug of choice, and it’s almost impossible for you to say no to what he’s offering. But you’re trying so hard to not jump Haechan in your boss’s car.

“What you’re saying is I’m too sexy right now in this car. You’d be throwing yourself at me?” He grins.

That’s not what you said, but yes, it’s exactly what you meant.

You take another step back. “I’m going to go home. You take this car to Chenle for him to work on. Maybe let me know when you’re done, and we’ll see about making some plans then. If not, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Again, you look at his hand on the wheel, the way it flexes, squeezing around the curve of the steering wheel, and your mind flashes to the videos he’s sent you — his hand on his cock, fingers dripping in cum.

You walk away, taking the elevator to the third level of the parking garage where you’d left your car this morning, and then you sit in your car for a few moments to compose yourself before you head home. Your thoughts, as much as you try to steer them away from the crafted fantasy of fucking Haechan in a fancy car, keep returning there. Again and again on the drive home.

You’ve just arrived home, just stepped out of your car to head up to your apartment, when you receive a message from Haechan.

Without hesitation, you open it.

A video. At first you can only see the interior of the car, and then the camera swings down to focus on his lap. Or, more specifically, on his bare cock.

“Traffic,” Haechan says. “I’m stuck in traffic, and I’ve got a boner because all I can think about is how if you were here with me right now, you’d be throwing yourself at me.” He laughs a little. “Okay, maybe I’d be the one unable to keep my hands to myself. But unfortunately, right now my hands are all I’ve got for myself, and we’re barely moving in traffic, so I just, ah, thought I’d bide my time productively. I said it the other night, you make me want to take risks in public.”

He’s just rocking his hips off the seat, driving his cock against his hand.

“The fact this isn’t even my car makes this even hotter. Do you think our boss and secretary have fucked in here yet, or am I the one breaking it in? Shit, if you were here this could be your hand around me. Or maybe your lips. We could break this car in together, would you like that? The windows are so dark though, no one would be able to see you.”

He strokes his cock with a moan. The car lurches forward, you can see his thigh relax and clench as he releases and then steps on the brake.

“Gotta be careful,” he mumbles to himself. But then he’s right back at it, stroking his cock, and it rubs against Taeil’s steering wheel by accident. His fingers squeeze around his tip and you can see the shiny smear of his precum against the material of the steering wheel.

He thrusts his hips up, another moan breaking through his lips.

“It’s gonna be a mess when I cum,” he grunts. “Knew I should’ve brought you for easy cleanup. Could’ve cum in your mouth, made you swallow every drop.”

Your body reacts to that. A lurching feeling of arousal in your core, imagining cleaning up Haechan’s cum.

His hand stills on his cock for a moment, just the thumb teasing slow circles around the tip, and then he releases his hold with a curse. “We’re moving again.”

And the video ends.

It’s not until that moment that you realize you’ve just been standing frozen there beside your car this whole time. You pocket your phone and head up to your apartment to take a cold shower. When you get out, you have a new message.

Another video.

In this one, the phone is at a different angle and his pants are gone, his shirt is lifted up to expose his belly. And he’s quickly jerking off. There’s no finesse, no teasing or dirty talk. It’s just a quick, short clip of Haechan’s hand moving fast and tight, bitten back moans escaping his teeth as he cums over his fist, dripping down onto his thighs and onto that flawless leather seat.

“I get why you like this,” Haechan says, bringing the phone up so you can see his chin. “Some man just walked by where I’m parked on the street outside Chenle’s place. The windows are dark so he couldn’t see in, but I had the window rolled down just a little, and he definitely heard me moaning. He was looking, and that’s when I came. What do you think he’d have done if he actually saw me?”

Exactly. That’s exactly what you like about exhibitionism. The thrill of getting away with it and the questions of what if you hadn’t gotten away with it. What would they do if they caught you?

In the video clip you watch Haechan wipe his hand clean on the inside of his undershirt before he tugs his button-down back into place. He straightens his tie and his jacket, then he manages to slide his boxers back up over his hips with one hand.

“Do you think he’s got any napkins or tissues in here?” Haechan mumbles, reaching around to rustle through the contents of Taeil’s fancy car. “I need something to wipe my jizz up with.”

You smile to yourself, noting the blend of amusement and frustration in Haechan’s voice.

Eventually he finds something, and he wipes and smears the glob of his cum that had landed on the leather seat.

It’s then that he slides his phone onto the car’s dashboard, giving you a view of the sky through the windshield. He makes some noise that you assume is him pulling his pants back up, and then he finally picks his phone back up again, showing his face on the video.

“Anyway, I’d better head inside now and pass the car off to Chenle.” The car door opens, the sounds of the wind and traffic mixing with the sound of his voice. “I’ll have to see how long this takes, but maybe we can still make plans.”

You hope so.

You spend a little while after that taking care of the Haechan-inspired itch that needs scratching, feeding yourself with fantasies featuring him. You keep expecting to be interrupted by him texting or calling about plans, but you’ve taken care of yourself with no word from him.

You wait, going about your afternoon doing some laundry and a little cleaning around the apartment. All of it is meant to distract you from being nervous about the reality of making plans with Haechan. Plans that you assume will only lead to finally having sex with him.

And when he finally sends you a message, your heart takes up an erratic pace.

But it’s not quite the message you’d hoped for.

“Chenle wants to hang out. He already messaged Renjun, YangYang, and Xiaojun. Do you want to come?”

Now, those aren’t exactly the plans you had in mind, and even as your heart swells with disappointment, you agree. You do want to see your friends, especially Chenle who you haven’t seen in quite a while. But considering that you’re meeting up with all of them for dinner, that they all have a tendency to want to chat late into the night, and since you’re picking up YangYang and Xiaojun on the way, you don’t find your odds of any actual plans with Haechan happening tonight.

Xiaojun’s girlfriend has basically moved in with him, so she comes along too, and your car is crowded on the way to meet the other three for dinner. And the booth table Chenle booked is even more crowded.

Everyone is squeezed in so tightly that Haechan has you pressed up against the wall. Across from you, Xiaojun pulled his girlfriend onto his lap. The woman that comes over to take your order only offers an apologetic smile and says that this is the only size table they had left.

It’s fine. Really.

You’re all very close friends, so if some of you have to sit with arms around each other, ankles knocking and twisting beneath the table, that’s fine.

And if it means that at some point after your order is put in and the first round of drinks are served, Haechan tugs one of your legs up over his so he can slide just a little closer to you and save a little extra space for Renjun on his other side, well… you’re not going to complain.

He glances your way, a sparkle in his eye.

His hand doesn’t leave your thigh.

You’re still wearing a skirt, though it’s not the short one you’d worn to work today.

This is a longer, casual skirt. One that’s loose and floaty enough that when Haechan starts walking his fingers along your thigh, the fabric easily starts bunching up, gathering beneath his fingers and drawing up your leg.

You tamp down the urge to shiver when the pads of his warm fingers make contact with your bare thigh.

Liquor burns the back of your throat as you quickly drink the alcohol the woman brought to your table. You hope that the flush of alcohol in your cheeks might conceal the way that you can already feel yourself blushing beneath Haechan’s touch.

And then he starts stroking his fingers over your inner thigh. Moving them back and forth, fingers drumming gently a melody that you can’t determine.

The frustrating thing is that you’re in a tizzy, but Haechan is perfectly cool. He’s maintaining a conversation with the others while he builds the heat inside your core.

And then he squeezes your thigh.

Palm flat to your skin. Fingers pressing in.

You snap your head to the side to look at him, your hand dropping beneath the table to cover his hand on your thigh. Your leg draped over his twitches, foot kicking out.

Unfortunately your accidental kick makes contact.

Chenle frowns, looking around at your side of the table. “Who just kicked me?”

“Sorry,” Haechan apologizes quickly, covering for you.

Judging by the way that Chenle moves and the slight thump beneath the table, paired with Haechan’s grunt and jolt, you assume Chenle landed a retaliatory kick.

Haechan pouts and starts to whine, playing it up dramatically. The others roll their eyes and tease him as he reaches for Renjun asking for him to kiss it better, as he tells Chenle he owes him dessert because his kick had been an accident while Chenle’s had been fully intentional. He asks YangYang to kiss it better, too, to which YangYang flips Haechan off.

Then he turns to you. “Will you kiss it better?”

Renjun laughs into his drink, nearly choking on it.

He’s known about your crush on Haechan for ages, so you’re sure he finds that comment very amusing.

You glare at Renjun from over Haechan’s shoulder. Haechan pouts at you, and as much as you desperately want to kiss his soft-looking lips, you’re not going to kiss him in front of your friends right now. “Just take a drink, and you’ll forget about your boo-boo.” You pick up his glass and lift it to his lips for him, tipping it back and pouring it into his mouth.

Haechan holds eye contact with you, and a pulse of something races along your spine.

Some of his drink spills from the corner of his mouth, and he lifts a hand to your wrist, pulling your hand and the glass away from his mouth. “I feel better already.”

Beneath the table, he massages your thigh again.

When the food is served, you would’ve thought he’d need both hands to eat, but to your surprise and satisfaction, Haechan keeps one hand firmly on your thigh, the other to handle his chopsticks.

You do your best to maintain conversation with the others. After a while, once you’re used to the weight of Haechan’s hand on your thigh and the press of his fingers along the sensitive skin of your bare upper thigh, conversation and concentration get a little easier. You eat and laugh and talk with your friends all while Haechan’s fingers roam higher.

It’s only once the food on the table is dwindling, once Haechan has eaten his fill apparently, that he turns his focus back to teasing you properly.

He’s in the middle of talking to Xiaojun about some culinary festival. His fingers slide higher than they’ve been yet, brushing the soft edge of your panties.

You choke a little on your food, and his fingers withdraw for a moment as attention around the table turns to you.

“I’m fine.” You cough, reaching for your glass, gulping it down quickly to cool the heat consuming you.

Xiaojun resumes talking. Haechan’s fingers return to your panties, slower this time and accompanied by a glance to the side from him. Checking with you.

You slide your hand down to his again, giving him a nod of approval, and applying a little pressure to get his hand moving again.

The corner of his lips turn up in a barely-suppressed smile.

The smile grows when his fingers brush along the center of your panties, and he finds them damp. You try to steady your breathing, try not to lean into Haechan as he circles his middle finger over your clit, as he strokes along your slit over your panties, working you up, making you wetter.

You lean back against the cushioned back of the booth, shoulders pressed into the corner.

Your hand shakes when you lift your glass to your lips. You hope no one notices. You hope no one notices the attempt you make at taking a steadying breath. Pray no one notices that your eyes are growing distant, your face warm, your posture dissolving.

Haechan eases his fingers inside your panties, and you slide a little lower in your seat to spread your legs just a bit wider.

You’re reminded of that first time with Renjun. This is a very similar set of people, but this time you don’t have to stare longingly across the room at Haechan’s thighs. Now you’re able to drop a hand to his lap, your hand curving over his gorgeous thighs wrapped snug in his suit pants. You don’t touch him — not in the way that he’s touching you, anyway — just leave your hand there on his thigh, fingernails dragging over the material of his pants as he slides his long, middle finger into your core.

How he does this so smoothly, so casually, showing nothing at all on his face…. You don’t understand.

You’re shaking. You’re blushing.

You’re an exhibitionist, but tonight Haechan has you blushing like a virgin.

Luckily, the others are pretty much distracted. They don’t notice when you thump your head to the side against the wall, when you lower your gaze to your lap to watch the indecent bulge beneath your skirt as Haechan starts moving, thrusting first the one finger, and then as he adds a second.

You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making a sound, though Haechan keeps glancing your way as if hoping to catch your lips parted around a silent moan.

If anyone does look over at you while you’re utterly distracted, then they probably just assume you’ve hit your limit in alcohol. You’re flushed and your eyes are looking a little glazed. You look like you’re about to fall asleep leaning against the wall with your head angled down like that.

Truly you’re a hot fucking mess. Your upper inner thighs feel slick with arousal. You’re sweating behind your knees, the back of your neck, under your arms. It’s taking everything in you to not just throw caution to the wind entirely, to haul yourself into Haechan’s lap, to kiss him and ride him right here at the table in front of your friends.

That thought ignites a new level of heat inside you.

You remember talking about something like that once with Renjun. Imagining cockwarming him in front of your friends. He’d not been too sure about it, but that had been at the start of whatever it was you’d been doing.

A little sound slips out between your lips.

Haechan looks at you, his mouth twisting with amusement, teasing words right on the tip of his tongue.

You grip his thigh, nails biting into his leg even through the pants. Whatever words he was going to say, he swallows down, just watching you eagerly as he fills you again and again with his fingers. Neither of you pay any attention to your friends around the table, each of you too focused on the same goal: your orgasm.

When it hits, you just close your eyes and ride it out on Haechan’s fingers. The waves of pleasure pulse through you, and you can feel the way that you’re soaking his fingers, the way he keeps pressing in for more and more, until finally you move your hand from his thigh to push his hand away from in between yours. Wetness drips against your thigh as he removes his fingers. You may have squirted just a little bit, and judging by the heat in Haechan’s gaze, he liked it.

“Need some water?” He asks, voice just loud enough for the others to barely catch it. “Something to sober you up a bit?”

With his clean hand, Haechan pushes a glass of water towards you, the sides of it dripping with condensation. Gladly, you accept it, gulping down a few mouthfuls of icy water before you press the cool glass to your cheek. When you open your eyes, you make eye contact with Xiaojun.

His gaze flicks away to Haechan, then back to you before he returns his attention to YangYang who’s in the middle of some dramatic retelling of a sleaze from the club the other night. Just once more, Xiaojun glances your way, and you can’t help wondering if he’d noticed. He’s seen you orgasm before, never in public, but he’s no stranger to it.

You wonder if he’s told his girlfriend that you used to hook up?

Before you can pay much more thought to that matter, Haechan brings his hand up from beneath the table. While everyone else is hanging on every word of YangYang’s story, Haechan builds himself a little perilla leaf wrap. You watch him, only barely listening to YangYang, more interested in the way that Haechan fingers glisten with your wetness as he holds the perilla leaf to fill it.

He catches your eye as he bundles the leaf around the filling, and then he all but shoves the entire thing into his mouth. Including his fingers.

It’s lascivious the way that he basically sucks his fingers clean of your wetness. The way that even after he’s pulled them out, he waits until he’s finished chewing and swallowing the perilla leaf wrap, and then he licks each of his fingers.

When Chenle eyes him with a mildly disgusted face, Haechan just shrugs. “What? When you’re eating, don’t you know the juice is the best part?”

“I wouldn’t lick my greasy fingers in public like that,” Chenle responds, shaking his head.

“Yeah, well, there’s lots of things people shouldn’t do in public.” Haechan smirks and wiggles his eyebrows suggestively.

You sit your glass down and lean forward against the table, resting your hand on his leg beneath the table. “You’re interrupting YangYang’s story. Be quiet, Lee Haechan.”

The rest of the night doesn’t last long. YangYang has to go to work, so he just catches a taxi to take him there. Xiaojun and his girlfriend decide to go check out a restaurant of one of his culinary friends for dessert a short distance away.

“How’re you getting home?” Haechan asks after you’ve all paid and the others have begun to head their own ways. “I know you’re not drunk, but I think you’ve had too much to safely drive yourself.”

Outside, the cool night air brushes against your warm cheeks. You know he’s right. You were drinking quite a bit earlier, and driving wouldn’t be safe.

“You can take me.” You grab for his arm. “My car is right there. You can just drive me home.”

“Chenle did quick work on Mr. Moon’s car earlier. I have to return it to the parking garage at work. I can’t do both.” Haechan leans against the wall outside the restaurant, looking at you. You can’t help smiling, can’t help gravitating towards him.

“I can drive.”

You turn around, almost surprised to see Renjun there. His hands are in his pockets, and he even looks a little surprised too.

“I can drive you home,” he says to you. “I haven’t had anything to drink in the past couple hours. I can take you. Plus, it’s been a little while since we got to talk, just the two of us.”

You nod. “My car is right here.” You point across the street to where your car sits like a piece of garbage behind Mr. Moon’s fancy BMW. Your keys are in your purse, and it takes you a minute of rummaging around to find them, but once you do, you drop them into Renjun’s waiting hand. “And here’re the keys.”

Haechan knocks into your other hand, his knuckles skimming along the back of your hand. “Let me know when you get home, okay? Both of you.”

You’re quite tempted to kiss him goodnight. To drape your arms over Haechan’s shoulders, to taste the saltiness of the samgyeopsal, the sweetness of the soda he’d been drinking too.

He taps a finger against your forehead. “Don’t fall asleep before you get home. Renjun won’t carry you to bed.”

Renjun laughs. “I could.”

You’re not blind to the look that Haechan shoots at Renjun. A sharp look. A curse embedded in there. The threat that spells out that Renjun had better not even try.

Wordlessly, Renjun unlocks your car, and with a loud groan (from the car, not from him), he opens the door on the passenger side for you. You slide in, and Haechan fills the open door, fitting himself in between the door and the body of the car, a hand on each one as he looks down at you.

“Text me once you’re home.” His voice is a gentle command. Your heart warms, and you nod.

“Goodnight, Haechan.”

The driver’s side door of your car squeals open, and Renjun drops himself into the seat.

Haechan steps back, closing the door for you, and he just waits there on the sidewalk, watching as Renjun starts the car, as you both buckle in, as Renjun pulls away from the curb. You wave, and Haechan waves back, watching you go.

You’re still watching him shrink in the reflection of the side mirror when Renjun starts laughing. You look over at him. “What?”

“So you finally succeeded? That’s happening?” He laughs, readjusting his grip on the steering wheel.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You fold your arms, checking the mirror again, but Haechan is too far now for you to be able to see him anymore.

Renjun waits a moment, during which the quiet sound of a turn signal is all that fills the silence. And then, “I’m not blind. Maybe the others were somehow oblivious, but I was sitting right beside Haechan all night. Also, I’ve fingered you around our friends before, I can see the signs.”

“Shut up. You couldn’t tell.” You shoot a look over at him, but he stays focused on the road.

“Maybe. Maybe not. But either way, you just confirmed it for me.” He smiles, sending a short glance over at you before he looks ahead again. “You were too squirmy, and there was a long time that Haechan only had one hand above the table. Guess you found your perfect match in him, didn’t you? Lucky, since you’ve had that crush on him for so long.”

You sigh, tipping your head against the window. “He’s gross, Renjun. A real pervert.” You say those words as if they are compliments, as if you’re calling him dreamy, a real prince.

Renjun makes a noise on the other side of the car, and you’re not sure if it’s disgust or one of intrigue.

“I love it, honestly.” You twist your head to the side. Renjun’s profile is outlined by streetlights in pale amber. “We talked one night recently, and everything came out into the open. The things I’ve done, things he’s done. He’s so much worse than I am.”

Renjun tilts his head. “How? You were constantly begging me to fuck you somewhere public. How could he be worse than that?” He doesn’t say it with any vitriol, but rather like he’s teasing you. You know Renjun was just as eager to do everything as you were.

“He’s been watching people for a long time. I won’t give you all of the details, but did you know that when he went through your phone while we were all in Thailand, he sent himself videos from your camera roll?”

That makes Renjun’s head finally turn to look at you fully. Luckily you’re stopped at a red light already, so he runs no risk of rear-ending anyone. “He what?”

“It’s just one of the confessions he told me. He didn’t show me them, just told me about them.” You shiver a little with delight as you recall, “He told me that his favorite one is the first one we filmed together, me riding you in my car. And he doesn’t even know that it’s me; I haven’t told him that yet.” You laugh, resting your cheek again on the cool window. “He also said that he wasn’t asleep that final night in Thailand when we messed around right there beside him. He’s a little perv, Renjun, watching us and all of our friends too. It’s just… gross, but I can’t explain it. I like it.”

Now he laughs too. “You’re both gross. I should’ve known that about him. After he spent months crashing on our sofa at school because his roommate caught him being a chronic masturbator.” He shakes his head. “Maybe caught isn’t even the right word.”

You laugh too, but your mind is filled with the vivid imagery of the video Haechan had sent you earlier. His fingers wrapped around his cock. Cum dripping pearly white down his fingers. Your laugh tapers off into a sigh.

“I’m happy for you,” Renjun says after driving a few moments in silence. “For you and Haechan.”

“I’m not so sure there is a Me and Haechan yet. We just talked. We’ve kissed.” Your heart flutters in your chest, wishing you’d have kissed him goodnight. “He’s sent me a few videos, and we talk of course, and then there was tonight. But we haven’t, like, talked and we haven’t gone on a date or actually had sex. I want it to be a proper thing, not like what you and I did, and not like what Xiaojun and I did.”

“Trust me,” Renjun shares, “The way Haechan looks at you, the way he treats you… he likes you. Genuinely and completely, and both of you are fools if either of you let the other get away. I’ve known him longer than you, and I’ve never seen him the way he gets with you; and he’s been that way for a while now, honestly. When I talk with him, you always come up inevitably, in some way he always twists conversation to mention your name, to tell a funny story or to praise something that you did at work. And he’s always been, like, protective of you, whether you noticed it or not. I don’t think you need to worry about it not becoming a proper thing.”

When Renjun drops you off at your apartment door, you’re left with a lot more than just the car keys that he returns to you. Your mind and chest are buzzing thinking about what you’d talked about in the car.

You want to call Haechan as soon as you’re inside. You want to hear his voice. You want to tell him that you like him too, because it’s only now that you’ve been mulling over Renjun’s words that you remember that Haechan had confessed the night you first kissed. He’d whispered an “I like you” after you kissed on the street, and you’d been too busy reeling him back in for another kiss to tell him that you like him too.

You decide maybe you’re still a little tipsy, and maybe you should wait to call him and confess that you like him too until you’re in a clear state of mind.

So instead of calling him, you just send him the confirmation message that you got home safely.

And he calls you.

He’s still driving, returning the car to the parking garage at the office. You talk to him when he’s returning the car, when he’s riding the elevator up to the Moon Corporation’s offices, as he drops the key and the credit card off in Mr. Moon’s office. You keep talking, just keeping him company, as he leaves and rides a cab back to his place. You keep talking to him as you go through your bedtime routine — brushing your teeth, washing your face, using the toilet, changing out of your clothes.

“I’m home now.” Haechan yawns in your ear after a while. “It’s been a long day.”

“It’s been a long everything.” You sigh, sinking into your bed. “About earlier, at the restaurant….”

Haechan hums quietly on his end of the line, and you can hear him close a door, sit his phone down, and from the way sounds are more distant and slightly echoier, you assume he put you on speakerphone.

“I really enjoyed that.” You stare up at your ceiling, fighting the blush that rises to your cheeks, the heat that flares in your belly as you remember the feel of his fingers — Haechan’s fingers! — against your thighs and inside you, pulling you apart so easily.

“Me too,” he admits. “Though I would rather have had you spread out on that table so I could get a proper taste of you. The little licks I got off my fingers weren't enough.”

You have to bite back a whimper at the mental image he’s painted. “Haechan… I—I still haven’t gotten to touch you. Or taste you. I feel like I’m at a disadvantage again.”

His voice sounds distant from the phone when he says, “I guess we’d better remedy that, angel. But there’s one thing I need you to do for me before you can get a taste.”

“Hm?” Your heart is racing.

“Go on a date with me. A real date. Dinner and talking, maybe a movie. Dessert.” Haechan’s voice draws nearer again, and then suddenly you can tell he’s scooped his phone back up, that he’s holding it to his face. “I want to be wined and dined before you have your way with me, babe.”

That makes you laugh. But you quickly agree.

“A date. Name your time and place, Haechan.”

The smile in his voice is clear when he promises, “I’ll get back to you on that. Goodnight.”

You haven’t felt so giddy at the idea of a date in a long, long time. How are you meant to fall asleep right now?

“Goodnight, Lee Donghyuck.”

previous chapter || next chapter (Coming Soon)

a/n: not quite the full thing, but they've finally!! at last!! done something with each other! they're building up towards it lol which I'm sure is torture for all of you who've been dying for them to fuck, but it's coming! I swear!

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