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hyuckmov · 28 days

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haechan — gold-skinned, eager baby read part 2 here <3

'cause he's so pretty when he goes down on me gold-skinned, eager baby

haechan x fem!reader 7.2k, smut, minors dni, a bit of fluff, basically haechan loves your boobs. not proofread i was too excited. content: chest/boobs/nipples fixation if i ever seen one, consensual somnophilia but not really because one of them is awake, a little bit of teasing and manipulating i guess, unprotected sex, masturbating with a bra (m), shower sex, titty fucking, a little mention of dumbification, dom-ish haechan turned desperate needy (and dare i say, a little bit subby...?) haechan...ngl reader doesn't get to cum a lot this is mostly about haechan a/n: thank you all for waiting i really hope this lives up to your expectations or it's at least a little hot until the call with mark, you hadn’t really noticed at all.

“dude he’s like…fucking obsessed with your boobs.” mark insists. over video-call, there’s a slight lag between his voice and his actions, but there’s no mistaking the sincerity on his face.

“are you sure?” you ask, skeptically. “he’s never mentioned it to me at all.”

mark laughs. “he said he doesn’t want to seem like a perv, so he never brings it up with you.” tilting his head to the side, “i guess that’s why he keeps telling me about it. you should do something about it for your anniversary or something.”

haechan was a careful boyfriend. you appreciated the way his hands never lingered excessively on your waist even as he was a touchy person. you appreciated how, even if you had just come out from your shower in your towel — hair dripping wet, the material barely skimming the tops of your thighs, he kept his voice as steady as possible while handing you a robe. you appreciated the effort it took for him to keep his palms planted firmly on the bed above your head even as he made love to you. even as you grabbed at him incessantly, his fingers would go white, twisting in the sheets as he held himself back.

and yet, something in you wanted to see him lose control completely.

“yeah,” you breathe out, slowly. “i should.”

happy anniversary, haechan.

you start out small. you just need to see if mark might be onto something.

“haechan, what should i wear to dinner?”

haechan had been hyping up this date night for weeks and weeks. you know he researched the restaurant extensively, reading guides and blog posts about which wine to pair with each course. and for the past 30 minutes while you got ready, he sat patiently in the living room on his phone, sitting carefully so his button down shirt and slacks didn’t wrinkle. it was one of the things you found most endearing about him — how much he wanted things to be perfect even as the two of you got close to your second year of being a couple. you just wanted things to be perfect for him too.

now, at your question, he wanders into your room, an easy smile on his face already. crossing over to where you stand in front of your mirror, he kisses your cheek and wraps his arms around your waist, swaying from side to side.

“that looks good, baby,” he says, sincerely. “you wanna head out now?”

“wait,” you untangle yourself from him and he steps away politely. “i’ll give you another option.”

grabbing at the hem of your black turtleneck, a purposefully high collared choice, you tug it off you as quick as you could. you take a quick glance at the mirror, and sure enough haechan has averted his eyes at the prospect of seeing you topless. staring resolutely at the floor, you think you can almost see a red begin to tint his cheeks.

“tell me when you’re done,” he mumbles, and you want to tilt his head up and make him look at you in the nice lacy bra you’d picked out, but you hold back. you promised you were going to start with something more subtle.

and so you pull on a tight cropped cardigan with a low dipping neckline — one that hugs and accentuates your chest really nicely. doing up the buttons as quickly as you could, making sure it was just the right tightness, you tap him on the shoulder.

“done.”

observing him closely through the mirror, you see how his eyes jump instinctively to your chest, and then to your face, before they gravitate downwards again and settle into what is certainly a stare. almost as if he couldn’t resist.

and were you imagining things, or was he breathing a little harder than before?

“haechan?” you prompt, and you bite back a smile when you see him jolt a little out of his daze, blinking rapidly. “thoughts?”

“this one,” he blurts out. almost comically with how he can’t take his eyes off you, he darts out his tongue to wet his lips before repeating himself. “this one…it’s…you…” he swallows. “you should wear this one to dinner.”

“it’s not too tight?” frowning exaggeratedly, you adjust your bra such that your boobs shift around a little under the top, squeezing them together.

haechan hesitates. “actually…”, fuck he thinks to himself. because if you wear this to the restaurant, everyone will be able to see you. and he’ll be forced to pretend not to notice all throughout the meal. how the fuck, he thinks, as he watches you adjust your top again, am i supposed to think about wine pairings now?

“yes?” you revel in the way his eyes have glazed over entirely.

“the first top.” he nods, almost as if convincing himself. “the turtleneck’s good.”

“why?”

pause. “black looks better on you.” he slots his hands into his pockets, bouncing on his toes. “if you’re ready i’ll get the door.”

“okay, you go on first.” you think you see relief on his face as he speedwalks out the door.

twirling on the spot, thanking your lucky stars for mark’s tip-off, you swap out your black cardigan in exchange for the turtleneck, and head out to join your boyfriend at the doorway.

it was exciting — thinking of ways to test haechan, little by little. it wasn’t that he wasn’t a passionate boyfriend, or that he was too shy. he had quite the dirty mouth if the atmosphere ever called for it, and he never attempted to hide his sounds of pleasure if you felt particularly good wrapped around him. but there was no denying that some part of him was always in control.

because there was one version of haechan, who was something like this:

“haechan?”

he made a soft sound, turning to look at you from where you were seated on the other end of the couch. nights like these — with the television light illuminating your faces, haechan cozy and warm in an hoodie and sweatpants, you in one of his old shirts, with just enough of your bodies touching to give each other space and affection, — these were the nights you always felt a little more touch-starved than usual. and your boyfriend was just an arm’s length away, ready to love you in any way you ask.

“baby?”

you extend your arms out, reaching for him. “kisses please.”

smiling, he reaches out and gently pulls you into his lap. your face turned towards him, the two of you beam at each other as haechan cups your face tenderly. dipping his head down so your noses touch, he goes a little cross-eyed as he basks in the feeling of your skin against his, his gaze shining with adoration.

“okay,” he whispers, as he captures your lips in a sweet, patient, kiss. and another. and another, eyes fluttering shut to focus on the feeling, his hands never moving from the way he holds your face. afterwards, he wraps you in your arms so you can rest your head against his chest, and each time you raise your head up he kisses you indulgently.

and when, as this progresses, your hands begin to wander purposefully to the strings of his sweatpants, he swats them away softly – the tiniest bit of flush on his cheeks as his heartbeat quickens, flustered.

“just kissing, baby,” he presses his lips on your forehead to emphasise his point. “just want to be close to you.”

and then there was -

“haechan,” you whine.

his head thrown back, he at least makes the effort to focus his eyes on you. but his body doesn’t stop moving, his grip on your waist bruising as he fucks up into you with more fervor.

“yeah?” he mumbles.

“kiss me?”

his head snaps to you, and the side of his mouth quirks up. “hold that thought.”

and then he’s flipping the two of you over. still inside you, he hikes your legs up and wraps them around his waist. your arms go to his shoulders instinctively, while his move upwards to cage you in. and then he goes still.

“beg for it.” looking way too pleased with himself, he swivels his hips in slow motions, watching your face carefully to find your sweet spot, the angle that will drive you insane. he knows when he’s found it: your body shudders, your nails dig into his back and he hisses with pain.

“haechan, please…” you whine, as he starts to pull out of you, only to slam right into that one spot inside you that makes you see stars. surrendering yourself to him, you ramble on, “fuck, please, touch me, please…”

“what did you say, princess?” he buries his face in your neck, the way you squeeze around him and the obscene sounds of how wet you are beginning to get to him, as he begins to chase his own high.

his hot breath on your neck, his lips brushing against skin but never sucking, his hands hovering beside you but not touching.

control. boundaries. lines which you would like to see blurred, and crossed.

you knew he would be having a long day at work. he had told you the exact timings of his most important meetings, his lunch break, consults with clients, and then the time and duration of his less important meetings.

so nothing was a mistake when you sent him the photo of you at 3.45pm sharp, right at the last 15 minutes of his least important meeting of the day.

because you were nothing if not considerate.

haechan had been bored, sitting in his swivel chair, trying to maintain eye contact with the zoom conference but also scrolling on his phone when the investors rambled on for just a little too long.

y/n: image

thinking little of it, maybe you needed an opinion on an outfit, he glanced at his laptop one more time before unlocking his phone and opening his chat with you.

and he freezes.

because on the screen, is a photo of you. specifically, from the waist up, wearing one of his dress shirts, unbuttoned almost all the way and pushed open so he could see the very pretty, very lacy, barely-there bra you were wearing. one that was practically transparent with its mesh and lace, your nipples in stiff peaks poking out through the material. the sizing of the flimsy bra making your breasts look even fuller, even softer, than usual.

fuck.

he stares at your photo, lips slightly parted. he swallows. he swallows again. embarrassingly, his slacks begin to feel a little tight. fingers uncoordinated and slow, he types out the only response he can think of.

haechan: hi

haechan: did you send this to the wrong person?

while he waits for your response, he clicks back to the photo. he can’t help it, what if you decide to unsend it? the thought flits through his mind, and hurriedly, he goes to save it just in case it didn’t download to his phone.

y/n: babe you’re my boyfriend who else would i send this too?

haechan: oh

haechan: right

he can’t help it. the meeting gone straight from his mind, and your conversation with him slowly making less and less sense, the only thing he can think of doing is zooming in on the photo. deep down, he’s always been obsessed with your chest, but he always felt that it was a weird thing to bring up. you’ve never expressed a fixation with any particular body part of his, and he feels wrong for all the times he sneaks glances at you: be it from over your top, or when you’re midway through changing. he would never dream of asking to touch, but god he wants to. he doesn’t even know what he wants to do with your boobs other than to see, and to touch. and here you are, handing him his first opportunity to act on the former.

so he stares, and he stares. wildly he considers setting this photo as his homescreen. when the meeting ends, he slams his laptop quickly shut.

he was going to have to think of a way to pretend this didn’t affect him the way it did.

“needed you all day, baby,” he groaned. haechan had just gotten home, spent about 5 minutes upholding the facade that he could spend a quiet evening just chatting with you after the events of the day, before he’d finally had enough and tugged you into his lap to suck on your tongue. gasping, his body shivering with need, he separated from you just long enough to make out the words “need you. right now”.

indulging him, you kissed him back just as fiercely. “hold on,” you say, as you clamber up from the couch and cross over to the dining table. teasingly, you place a hand on the tabletop, leaning on it as you smile.

“bend me over?”

still slumped into his seat, haechan pokes his tongue into his cheek in thought. “why don’t you show me how you want it first?” he challenges.

diligently, you bend yourself over the edge of the table, propping yourself up on your elbows. wiggling your ass a few times in the air, and trying to ignore the fear that he’ll laugh at you, you look over at him expectantly, doing everything but batting your lashes.

haechan does laugh at you, but not in literal amusement. the dark sound of derision he lets out shoots straight to your core, as he gets up almost lazily, strolling over to you.

“baby wants it from the back?”

standing behind you, he runs his fingertips down your spine, stroking your back. it would almost be a tender action if not for the fact that he takes his hand away only to place it between your spread legs.

sliding your pants together with your panties down your legs, he continues to kiss your shoulders as he begins running his fingers up and down your slit, eliciting a whine from you.

“haechan…please don’t tease,” you plead, as he places a gentle pressure at your clit. “need you so bad too.”

“shhh…” he coos, continuing to make soft clicking noises as he circles his digits around your entrance. “i’ll take care of you. just need to stretch you out first, okay?”

slowly, he scissors his fingers inside of you, pushing them against your walls. wet sounds fill the still air in the kitchen, mixed with your whispers and his continued efforts to comfort you the best he knew how. losing yourself in pleasure, the ache in your belly begins to build, your legs shaking as your hips begin to buck against him subconsciously.

“getting excited?” he teases, removing his hands from your core. you whine, a high and embarrassing sound, but you can’t bring yourself to care beyond the disappointment at how empty it feels without his warmth.

“wait for me, princess.” you hear the sound of haechan fumbling with his belt, the clink of it hitting the floor. and then, you feel something thick and heavy press between your legs, stroking up and down your soaked slit. “first time trying this for me too,” he mumbles, and in the cloudy haze of your mind you register that this truly was the first time haechan was fucking you from the back.

pulling your hips towards him with a slight roughness, he eases into you. the stretch is delicious, the new angle seemingly allowing him to go deeper, and he lets out a low groan at how your walls seem to suck him in. he thrusts a few times experimentally, making you gasp. which in turn makes him still.

‘everything okay, baby?”

“yes,” you breathe. when he still doesn’t move, you wiggle your hips again, trying to squeeze around him. “please, please haechan i need you to move-”

“i got you.” rolling his hips with a slow and steady pace, haechan holds your sides gently. but something about it feels off to even you: there’s something not quite right with the way he’s almost quiet, the desperation that started out this entire night seemingly evaporated.

haechan continues for only a minute more before he pulls out.

“i’m sorry, but fuck this,” he all but spits. grabbing your hips roughly, which makes you yelp in surprise, he flips you over and pushes you further up the tabletop. you look up at him — his hair mussed up, his chest heaving, a new aggression to him as he pushes your shirt up to expose your chest.

bingo.

hiking your legs up so they hook around his waist, he rams back into you. your back arches with how full you feel, the blunt head of his cock dragging against your walls as he fucks into you. hard. unable to control himself, his mouth practically hangs open as he pants, moans spilling from his mouth easily.

“need,-” he starts, before quickening his pace even further. “needed to see,-” a hand drops one of your legs, and moves to your back to unclasp your bra. shoving it up so it no longer covers your breasts, a high whine tears from the back of his throat as he sees how each thrust makes your breasts bounce.

something clicks in your head. some mixture of the adrenaline, and how sexy haechan always made you feel judging by how desperate he could get around you, boosted your confidence tenfold.

bringing your hands to your chest, you cup your breasts with your palms and give them a firm squeeze. the lewdness of it coupled with the stimulation making you arch your back, pushing you into him.

and haechan cums.

later, with his arms draped around you sleepily, you shift a little in his hold so he opens his eyes to look at you. “about just now…” haechan nods, letting you know you can continue. “so you don’t like it when you can’t see me?” you whisper, not wanting to break the silence and the tenderness that always filled the room on late nights like these.

he hesitates. “i love everything i do with you” he says, quietly and sincerely. a hand comes up to brush your hair out of your eyes. “you know you’re already perfect to me, right?”

the comment makes you warm up inside. love was so easy for haechan, and he never failed to remind you of how much he loved you all the time.

“i know.” you snuggle closer to him. “but i just want to know when it feels just as good for you as it feels for me.”

he hums in agreement. “maybe…” he bites his lip as he picks out the words in his head. “i think i just like to face you as we’re doing it. i like it when you…” suddenly shy, he nuzzles his face into the pillow a little so the rest of his sentence comes out muffled. “when you ride me, or when i’m on top of you.”

deciding to tease him a little, you add, “and the thing i did with my boobs…?”

nervously, he blinks at you. “what?”

“haechan, you came when i started playing with my chest.”

“i j-just liked seeing you make yourself feel good,” he sits up, flustered. “i don’t-that’s not why i…”

“okay, okay.” you get up too, leaning against the headboard. reaching out to pat him on the cheek, you feel warmth on your fingertips and decide not to push things further.

“i just want you to know that if you wanted to try anything, you can just bring it up.”

“i don’t want…i don’t want to try anything…” he mumbles. in the moonlight, you can see how he’s turned away from you, staring at the clock on your bedside table.

and suddenly, you know exactly what you want to do.

“or you can try it when i’m asleep.”

confusedly, he turns around and blinks at you. “what?”

“i trust you. i give you full permission to touch me in my sleep. whatever you want.”

he gapes at you, speechless. you wonder if he’s going to protest again, you wonder if you pushed things too far.

but something in your proposition must have stirred something in him, because eventually, he settles on asking…

“are you sure?”

you reach over and take his hand to soothe him. “i’m sure.”

“has haechan mentioned anything?”

you’re videocalling mark again. it had been a full week since you invited haechan to basically do whatever he wanted to you — a full week of staying up late and feeling him slide into bed behind you, waiting for what felt like hours. the most he did was maybe pull you towards him to cuddle, but he always did that.

but it was also a myriad of little things you began to notice in that week. the way he would kiss you a little harder on days you walked around the house without a bra on. how he liked to hug you with his arms pressed against your upper back, pushing you into him.

and the little things you began to do instead: wearing lower cut tops around the house, bending over so he could catch an eyeful of your cleavage. but every night, your boyfriend still lay still behind you, and you were beginning to think you had truly pushed things too far.

marks hums in thought. “not really.” he pauses. “actually, he doesn’t even talk about your boobs anymore.”

“he doesn’t?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“nope.” mark sighs in relief. “i didn’t think the day would ever come. did you finally let him act on it or something?”

“not really,” you grumble.

“maybe he’s just marvelling at the freedom he has on which to love on your boobs now,” mark assures you. “i’m sure he’ll figure out what to do soon.” a pause. “sorry, is it just me or is it absurd that i’m comforting you about the fact that surely haechan will be obsessed with your boobs again?”

“it’s a little absurd,” you concede. “am i setting feminism back by 100 years with my attempts to seduce him?”

“a little bit,” he nods, leaning back in his desk chair. “maybe just 50 years, though.”

you’re in bed, listening to the sounds of haechan busying himself putting away cutlery in the kitchen drawers. the sound of the tap running when he brushes his teeth and washes his face, the light sounds of his bottles of moisturizer and cream being capped and put away. the low hum of his voice, raspy but sweet as honey, as he mumbles a tune to himself. the click of the light switch as the room is bathed in moonlight.

your eyes firmly closed, you feel yourself begin to doze off — if he hadn’t made a move, he wasn’t likely going to all of a sudden, right? vaguely, you hear him pad over to the bed in his slippers.

and then he stops.

unlike all the other nights before, he doesn’t get in immediately. even with your eyes closed, you can feel him standing there, breathing, taking in the look of you in the moonlight.

“baby?” haechan calls, softly.

you stay silent.

“are you still awake?”

he reaches out a hand, and shakes you gently. you make your body go as limp as possible, keeping your breathing steady.

“y/n?” he tries again. still nothing.

after another pause, the bed dips as his weight settles in behind you. minutes pass, before you feel his hands come to your waist. they remain there for a while, and you can almost imagine him in the dark — pupils blown out, biting his lip. just wondering. after what feels like years, the sheets rustle as his arms wrap around you, and he pulls you into his chest.

slowly, incrementally, you feel his hands begin to slide under your shirt. his fingertips are cool against your hot skin, fluttering with a slight nervousness, and you know it’s because he’s afraid to wake you with heavier touches. higher and higher up, his palms snake their way past your stomach, until they reach the underside of your breasts.

another pause.

and then, his hands slide up, the drag of it heavier this time, until he has a boob held carefully in each palm.

you wonder if he can feel your heartbeat thundering in your chest. there’s something about all of this occurring in the dark, and in complete silence, which makes you hyper-attuned to him: the slight twitch of his fingers from his nervousness, his erratic breathing on the back of your neck.

you feel him tense his fingers a few times, if anything, getting a feel of the soft flesh. and then, he carefully tightens his hold, squeezing each breast cupped in his palm — lightly, almost guiltily at first. as if he can’t believe he’s really doing this. you can hardly believe he’s really doing this.

“fuck”, you hear him breathe. he squeezes harder.

his movements gentle, and barely noticeable with how slow they are, he begins to roll each

breast in his palm. “so soft…” he breathes, and bounces them experimentally, feeling them move under his touch.

trailing his fingers inwards, he touches your nipples lightly, before rolling them between index finger and thumb, letting out a groan when he finds them grow stiff and hard. feeling around your areolae, he pinches at the skin.

when he shifts behind you, you can feel his hard cock pressed against your lower back.

his soft mutters and swears make you want to flip over and force his head into your chest, where you know he’ll only do better with his lips and teeth and tongue. but something about his warm palms, his fingers pushing and kneading and rolling, swiping in your cleavage, are so calming and loving that it starts to lull you to sleep.

the last thing you register is his one of his hands leaving your chest, and the wet sounds of haechan fucking into his fist.

haechan thinks he’s lost his mind.

he used to be able to hide it. he used to be fine with glancing at you, habitually flickering his eyes to your chest when you would walk into the room or snuggling up to him. but now he’s totally fucked, because he thinks he’s developed some sort of addiction.

he can’t remember the last time he had fallen asleep without reaching over to touch your breasts, and thumb at your nipples. his mind keeps trailing back to thoughts of going further, of kissing your chest, of sucking on your pretty tits and watching your nipples stiffen and harden because of him.

and he thinks he’s beyond help when he finds himself standing over your open drawer, feeling himself grow hard as he bends down to run his fingers over your collection of bras, brassiere, and lingerie.

because admittedly, ever since mark tipped you off, you had been stocking up on the pretty fabrics, testing out padded and non-padded ones, choosing colors you know haechan liked to see you in, materials like mesh and lace and cotton.

his fingers rub against a soft, satin-y material, and he pulls it out. it’s light blue and flimsy, opening in the front, and from the way he’s memorized you through touch alone he knows it will barely cover your chest. it was a piece that would tease him more than anything, and he imagines the satin rubbing against his face, you pushing your chest into him as he unclasps it, watching the fabric fall away from your pretty breasts as you expose yourself to him.

he can’t help himself, as he falls backwards onto the bed, scrambling so he can sit against the headboard. tugging his pants down with a movement that is too practiced, feeling his hard cock slap up against his stomach. too hurried to get any lube or lotion, scared you’ll come back from grocery shopping to find him like this, he spits into his hand and immediately starts fisting his length, the other still clinging onto your bra. he lets out a sigh of relief, his pants slowing down as he strokes himself.

spreading the satin out on the bed, he lets his eyes fall to it as his hand speeds up. he wonders how he can request for you to wear it, and send him a picture. maybe he could put it at the very top of your pile of underwear, so you would see it. the color of it would look so pretty against your skin, would look so pretty in your mouth, would look so pretty if he…

and then he’s grabbing the material, still soft and silky to touch, and now he’s stroking his cock with it, and the feeling makes him gasp, his hips fucking up into his fist, legs planted on the bed so he can thrust his hips up harder. the light blue, delicate material, looks obscene against the bright red of his cock.

he teases a finger over his slit and he whines, higher than he had ever heard himself. his chest heaving, he imagines you finding him, sitting on the bed, fucking himself into your bra, practically cumming at the thought of nuzzling his face into your boobs. he thinks of what you would say.

or maybe you would get on top of him like you do, splitting yourself open on his cock as your tits bounce with each of your movements.

he finishes to the thought of that, cumming straight into the material of your bra. the shame doesn’t hit him until after, when he’s trying to wash the stains out of it, a bright red that starts in his stomach and burns through his neck, cheeks, and ears. he’s silent all through dinner, faces away from you at night.

but he can’t deny the thought that he wanted to do it again. and maybe all the other things he fantasized about. but how would he ever be able to tell you now?

the morning of your anniversary was when you decided this had to stop. all the teasing had begun to backfire, because having haechan’s hands on you every night — especially on the nights you had trouble sleeping, were making you need him badly. and he didn’t have a clue.

haechan had woken up, kissed you on the cheek and wished you a happy anniversary, before heading to the kitchen. sitting on the edge of your bed, you thought hard about what exactly you should tell him — whether you should bring up the fact that mark was the reason all of this even happened, if you should tell him you had been teasing him, or that you had been awake on all those nights.

suddenly, it seemed to add up to quite a lot of manipulation and lying. you felt a bit nervous.

walking to the kitchen, you enter just in time to see him finish preparing the ingredients for the romantic breakfast he had planned. sweeping them into bowls lined up neatly on the countertop, he turns and smiles at the sight of you, standing there timidly in the entryway.

“what’s wrong, love?” he comes over to you, draping his arms over your hips. “is everything okay?”

swaying slightly, you look into his eyes, so full of love, and know that you can’t keep anything from him. and also that you weren’t brave enough to do it right then and there. “haechan?”

“mmhm?”

you hesitate. “i’m… i’m going to take a shower.”

laughing slightly, he tilts his head to the side. “o…kay?”

“do you want to join me?” you say in a breath.

you watch as the words hit him. slowly, he blinks at you, before he swallows, his throat bobbing. “really? that won’t make you uncomfortable?”

“yes,” you breathe. “i want to.”

it takes a few more assurances from you before haechan agrees, holding on to your hand as the two of you step into the bathroom. he waits for you to undress first, looking away politely as you get in the shower, before he undresses and steps in after you. as the hot water cascades over you, the steam beginning to make the air heavy, he kisses your shoulder gently before turning you around so your back is facing him.

“i’ll wash your back for you,” he says, kindly. you hear him uncap the shower gel, and slowly start to scrub at your back lightly with the loofah. sometime between turning around and him washing your back, he’s turned off the water, and there aren’t any sounds except for foam and soap moving against skin.

“haechan?”

“yes?”

you turn around. haechan lifts the loofah away from your skin and looks at you, curiously.

“what’s wrong?”

“wash my front for me.”

he bites his lip, before nodding.

“okay.”

he starts at your shoulders, down to your collarbones, working small circles into your skin. when he reaches the top of your chest, where the swell of your breasts begins, he hesitates again, lifting the loofah from your skin so his hand hovers between the two of you. you decide that now was a good a time as ever.

“haechan…” you reach out and take his hand. and he looks so nervous, his breaths coming in quicker, his eyes darting between yours and your interlocked hands, that it makes you want to delay for just a little bit longer.

“haechan, you do know that it feels good when you touch my chest, don’t you?”

“what?” he stares at you. he seemed like he was hardly breathing.

“i may have been awake a few of the nights in these past two weeks,” you say, slowly, before looking him in the face again. “you left me feeling really needy, you know that?”

“sorry,” he apologises reflexively, before stopping as the words register in his head. “so, it…doesn’t make you…uncomfortable?”

“no.”

slowly, he nods, and then he adds, “you’re not weirded out?”

“no,” you shake your head patiently. “it’s the opposite of all that. i love it when you touch me there.”

“yeah?” he breathes, and you watch as his eyes darken just slightly, his chest falling and rising at a slightly quicker rate. and then he’s dropping the loofah, his hands going to your waist as he kisses you, hard. backing you up against the shower wall, he continues to kiss you feverishly as his hands go to the slope of your shoulders, trailing down your front until they cup your breasts, the movement so practiced and fluid that you don’t have the time to catch your breath.

“always,” he gasps, “wanted to do this,” he moans into your mouth as he plays with your nipples, stroking them, his hands still slippery with soap.

his movements jerky and disjointed, he turns the water back on so that it runs over the two of you, dousing your chest with warm water so that it’s slippery to touch, and if possible they feel even squishier and softer in his hold. groaning, he pushes his head into your neck as he squeezes them in his firm grip.

“haechan,” you whine, his hands on you, and the desperation in his rough actions making you need him even more.

he doesn’t bother to respond, shoving his knee between your legs to knock them apart and letting you grind on his thigh. its the way the movement is meant to placate you, as if he was too busy with your breasts to even pay attention to you, that makes it even more satisfying to grind down on him.

“can i,” he gasps, breaking away from you. somehow already fucked out even though all he’s done is touch you, he pleads with you with his eyes. unable to catch his breath, he stutters out, “c-can i please, please, suck them?”

you curse, but he seems to take it negatively. gulping, he begins to move away from you, his hands trembling, but your desperation overtakes you.

grabbing his head by his hair, you pull his face towards your chest. and now it’s your turn to beg.

“please,” you rasp, and that’s all you have to say because immediately his lips latch onto your right nipple, a whine sounding from him high and drawn out. swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud, his other hand goes to your neglected breast, rolling the other nipple with his thumb and forefinger. all the while, his hips grind mindlessly, his hard cock rubbing against your upper thigh, spilling precum all over your skin that’s washed away just as quickly.

haechan is in seventh heaven. he thinks he could spend forever like this, suckling on your tits, fucking into your thighs, listening to your pretty gasps and sighs. all the embarrassment from before has melted away, and all that’s left is his desire to touch and to taste, knowing that it brought you as much pleasure as it did for him.

“eager baby,” you coo affectionately, trying to keep your voice level. with a feeling of elation, watching him grind against your skin and suckle at you as if he was a baby, you realise that you’ve done it: he’s lost all semblance of control. “do you think you could cum like this?”

haechan moans, and the sound is beautifully crude as it echoes against the bathroom tiles. open-mouthed and panting, he whines again as he switches to another breast, both hands leaving your chest in favor of tugging at his neglected cock.

and suddenly, you know just what he needs.

“stop,” you tell him, but it’s not convincing enough — the sight of him, and stimulation from your chest, affecting you way too much. he ignores you, continuing to slobber over you, licking at the crevice between your boobs.

“stop,” you insist, pushing him away this time. even as he breaks apart from you, his movements halting, his eyes are still trained on your breasts, watching the streams of water slide down them, dripping off of you, as if in a trance.

reaching behind him to turn off the water, you open the shower door. haechan blinks a few times, the dissipating steam slowly clearing the air of the tension, and clearing the fog in his head too.

“y/n,” he swallows. “i need you, please-”

“you’ll have me,” you assure him, grabbing a towel as you lead him out of the en-suite bathroom, and over to your bed. “i just know you’ll really like this, so trust me, okay?”

“okay,” he breathes, coming to stand between your legs as you sit on the edge of the bed.

“and-” you point at him. “you need to calm down, okay?”

looking wounded, haechan practically whimpers, reaching for your chest.

“it’s not that i don’t like you eager,” you say, hurriedly. “i just want you to enjoy this for longer, okay?”

he nods.

a smile tugs at your lips. is this how he usually felt like? watching you dumb and desperate for him?

“words,” you tease.

“okay,” he says softly. “i’ll try.”

“good job, baby,” you reach up to pat him on the cheek, before turning to grab a bottle of lotion that always stood on your bedside table. lying on your back, you motion for him to come over to you. he hovers obediently, sitting on his heels.

uncapping the lotion, you take one of his hands and squeeze out a generous amount onto his palm.

“spread it out over my chest,” you tell him, patiently. his lips part, and he’s about to surge towards you, so you place a hand on his arm. “slowly.”

he swallows. he takes a breath. and then he’s spreading the lotion onto his palms, and as he promised, he slowly places them on your chest and begins to apply it onto your skin. his eyes glaze over as he swipes them under your boobs, rubbing into your cleavage, smearing it in circular motions closer to your nipples. even though you enjoy his touch, and you know he’s enjoying himself too, you motion for him to stop.

slowly, carefully, you place both hands on the sides of your boobs. haechan’s eyes widen almost comically, and you look at him sternly, reminding him to keep it together. you squeeze them together, creating a tight passage between them where your cleavage is.

“okay,” you breathe. “now fuck them.”

haechan’s eyes, which have been fixating on your chest the whole time, flicker up to yours in confusion.

“baby,” you try again, “here. in between my boobs.”

haechan had never seemed to hear of the concept. finding the words, he splutters out, “what? how? do i really-” he stares at you, again, before the arousal seems to wind him over and he shuffles up to straddle your stomach. you see his thighs trembling as his large hands cover yours, squeezing your breasts together with more force. the blunt head of his cock makes contact your boobs, and he whimpers, before slotting it in the valley of your breasts, and thrusting forwards.

you remove your hands, seeming to give him total control, when really he’s lost it all completely.

his mouth hangs open as he lets out moan after moan, thrusting harder and harder into the tight passage. “fuck,” he gasps, going to stroke your nipples as he raises himself slightly, the need to fuck your tits harder and faster driving his hips forward and making him almost lose balance. strings of curses and nonsensical rambles fall from his puffy lips as he chases his high, wanting to enjoy it for longer but also wanting to cum.

the sight of him, flushed and panting, holding onto your chest as if for dear life, is enough to satiate you for a little while, but soon the wetness between your thighs and throbbing of your clit feels too much to handle on your own.

“baby,” you breathe, “do you want to-”

but at the petname, haechan lets out one high whine, and cums — all over your chest, up to your neck and chin and some even dribbling onto your face. all the while, he continues to fuck into your chest, until the stimulation is too much for him and he falls back on his heels, needing to get away.

there’s a pause.

his heaves and pants filling the room, he sits on the bed resting on his elbows. you’re a little winded too, but you don’t know what from. it takes him a while to calm down, even after you clean yourself up and pull him towards you to cuddle, him laying a hand on your boob the entire time.

finally, his head seems to clear and he comes back to himself. looking at you carefully, he furrows his brow.

“so that day with the turtleneck…”

“yeah,” you say, feeling a little shy. you can’t believe he remembered something so far back.

“and the photo of you in the bra…”

“i thought you’d like it,” you offer, and he laughs at that. before he pauses, and really looks at you.

“and you haven’t cum at all today, haven’t you sweetheart?”

“not yet,” you breathe.

happy fucking anniversary.

taglist: @matchahyuck , @kpopwh0r3 read part 2 here <3

#close to 4.5k🤍🤍🤍#thank u so much🥹#srb

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hyuckmov · 1 month

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haechan — if i believe you

haechan x fem!reader 10.6k, angst & fluff, fake dating to real a/n: thank you all for waiting...this is the longest thing i've ever written :) i really hope that you can enjoy this and the emotions and everything are immersive and not too annoying with the miscommunication/repression i hope. these two are my favorite ever, quiet haechan is my favorite ever and i would love to revisit them maybe in a later fic. anyway, let me know if you like this!! thank you for reading <3 it’s a little difficult to be around your friend group when they’re all like this.

it’s a little past midnight, and you don’t know how it happened but the room has been split into happy pairs, all in their own world. movie on the tv forgotten, jaemin has his arm slung around a girl as they whisper to each other on the floor next to the couch, which is taken up by jeno — currently very endearingly laughing at something his girlfriend said. renjun was arguing with his girlfriend, but you know that neither of them truly meant it. you don’t know how it happened, but it seemed that this year, the trip to jaemin’s beach house had turned into a triple date for which you were seriously 7th wheeling. the sight makes your heart hurt a little, because you suddenly feel so crushingly lonely.

“still here?”

you almost forgot that haechan was here too. almost.

sliding in to sit next to you on the kitchen island, he was dressed cozily for bed: his hoodie rolled up to his elbows, smelling slightly of toothpaste and fabric softener. you didn’t actually talk to haechan that much, you were always closer with jaemin in the friend group, but sometimes when eating together he’d catch your eye after a particularly terrible joke, or you would raise your eyebrows at him for something questionable said. you had almost developed an entirely non-verbal form of communication in that way, the two of you sharing your humor, and yet you didn’t actually know a whole lot about each other. a part of you thinks that you know a different haechan from everyone else, because in all the looks you pass each other and the comfortable silence you share, the haechan you know is quiet and sensitive, with a world of kindness in him that made you feel calm. and although you know he can be obnoxious and loud, his laughter echoing down corridors and smile brighter than the sun, you much preferred the haechan you knew.

you also thought he was the prettiest boy you’d seen in a long while — something casual about the way he would smile, or wink at people, and his habit of poking his tongue in his cheek…but you weren’t going to tell him that.

“yeah, still here.” you exhale. “when did you make your escape?”

“about 30 minutes ago.” he smiled fondly at the happy couples in the room. “it’s a bit funny how the room just rearranged itself. i could’ve sworn jaemin was beside me at the dinner table the entire night but somewhere along the way he dematerialised and reappeared next to the sofa.”

“love can do that to a person.” you rolled your eyes, before pausing to consider that maybe haechan was not quite in the same predicament as you. “hey, speaking of, why didn’t you bring your girlfriend?”

because you were sure that haechan had a girlfriend, who he would sometimes leave gatherings early to see. you vaguely remembered renjun complaining about how he always had to walk her to class, never showing up to gatherings anymore because of some surprise or another.

haechan blinks at you. “don’t have one anymore. we broke up quite a few months ago.” at the guilt-striken look on your face, he shakes his head to reassure you.

“i’m over it,” he says softly. “don’t worry about me, okay?”

you can’t imagine anyone breaking up with haechan — haechan who was so gentle. with his radiant smile and his arms full of flowers whenever he surprised her. haechan who walked her to her classes.

“i’m sorry to hear that. you deserved better i’m sure.”

he smiles, and it looks kind of shy. “if you say so.”

“hey y/n-” you look up at jaemin’s voice, and realize that somehow, the room had emptied out while you were talking to haechan. the only person left was jaemin, who had just finished clearing the bottles and snack wrappers. “we’re going to bed, i’m going to turn out the lights now.”

“okay, thanks jaem.”

he made to leave, but stopped abruptly. “ y/n, remember-” jaemin looked at you sternly, one hand on the light switch, one pointed at you.

“repeat after me: do not trust how you feel about your entire life past 9pm.” a pause, as he glances at the clock on the wall. “or 1am, for that matter.”

you laugh. “thanks jaem.”

“repeat it”, he insists.

“do not trust how i feel about my life past 1am.”

“good.” jaemin nods in acknowledgement to haechan, flicks the light switch, and just like that, haechan and you sit alone at the kitchen island, illuminated by the moonlight through the glass doors.

suddenly, it is so quiet you feel like you want to sit in the moment forever.

you look over at him, and haechan raises his eyebrows. it is a look you know well. care to explain?

“sometimes i get really emotional at night”, you explain. “tend to overthink. jaemin knows that because i’m always calling him talking about one thing or the other.” thinking about how embarrassing it would be if you started oversharing, you quickly promise, “but i’m working on it, don’t worry. i won’t do that to you.”

haechan smiles. “i don’t mind.” he blinks at you and supports his chin with his hands. “we have all night. tell me what’s on your mind right now.”

“really?” you look skeptical. once again, you and haechan haven’t really talked that much at all. you think this is maybe the longest conversation you’ve had with him, with so many words.

“it’s okay if you don’t want to. but i’m just saying, i wouldn’t mind.” he smiles, and it warms your heart.

asking you softly if you would like something to drink, he gets up to make hot chocolate for the two of you. and you’re sitting there, not even trying, but suddenly the moonlight and the soft sounds of haechan padding around the kitchen are setting off a feeling of butterflies making their way to your throat from your stomach. there are shivers running up and down your spine because there is something tender and fragile in this moment that you can’t pinpoint, and a deep feeling begins to crawl its way, spreading through your toes and fingertips. all you know is it’s the feeling you get before you’re about to spill your heart out to someone.

“haechan?”

he hums, and the sound could break your heart.

“do you ever feel lonely sometimes?”

you hear the smile in his voice without having to turn around to look at him — its the one that starts at the corners and spreads slowly across his face. “so this is what keeps you up at night.”

“i’m serious, haechan.” running your hands through your hair, you are aware that you are beginning to sound like a rom-com protagonist, but you don’t care.

“sorry.” you hear the clink of teaspoons against cups as he stirs the hot chocolate. “i mean, i guess i do feel a little lonely sometimes. but it’s not…an all-consuming thought.” a pause. “i guess it is, for you though, isn’t it?”

you hesitate, before nodding because fuck it, this has been on your mind for way too long and jaemin was rarely helpful. always with his arm slung over another girl, you had a hard time getting jaemin to admit he got lonely sometimes.

choosing your words carefully, you continue your spiel. “it’s just…it’s insane to me how we are told that life is so romantic, that there are so many wonderful moments in love we can look forward to, but none of that is happening to me and it doesn’t seem like it will be happening any time soon.”

haechan comes over to you, and passes you a mug of hot chocolate. soothingly, he places a hand on yours where it rests on the counter. “you have to wait y/n. i promise, one day you’ll find someone who loves you, and all the things you’re dreaming about will happen.”

“you can’t know that for sure,” you press. “i mean, when will someone write a love letter to me? will we kiss in the rain in the park? will they run to see me at a new year’s eve party?”

“woah woah woah, slow down.” he nudges your mug with his, indicating that you should drink, so you take a sip of chocolate: it’s rich and warm.

“i’m sorry. it’s just over the years things just keep getting added to this list of love, and now that i look at it it just seems ever the more impossible.”

“love isn’t defined by actions and experiences,” haechan muses.

“but i want to experience these things,” you say, feeling a little shy at how raw this conversation was getting.

haechan smiles at that, at the yearning hidden in your small voice. the two of you sit for a while, nursing your cups of chocolate, lost in your own thoughts. enjoying the warmth of his hand on yours, you look at the glimmering countertop and choose not to say anything so he doesn’t move his hand away.

and suddenly, out of the blue, haechan asks you a question.

“just out of curiosity, what are some things on your list?”

feeling a little embarrassed, because really — sharing your romantic fantasies with someone was beyond intimate, you mumble, “just simple things. going to the aquarium. being a couple at the amusement park, on the ferris wheel. watching fireworks together. cuddling while watching movies in my bedroom.”

haechan thinks about it for a moment. you can almost see the wheels turning in his head. you sit in silence for so long, you’re about to ask him what he’s thinking about, or tell him it’s not that serious, when he speaks up.

“i’ll do them with you.”

you almost choke. “i’m sorry?”

“i’ll help you complete your list.” he looks at you, as if it’s a completely normal thing he’s just said.

“but…but i mean…” you blink confusedly. you were supposed to do those things with a boyfriend or someone you loved, not just as friends. that would defeat the whole purpose.

reading your mind, haechan added “it’ll just be like fake dating. i’ll pretend to be your boyfriend so you can experience all that you want to.”

you’re beginning to see a little bit of the haechan that you don’t usually get to see, as he grins at you and there’s suddenly something sharp to the smile you always found gentle. “the full, personalised, boyfriend experience. just so you can have a go.”

you laugh, but that’s just a cover for all the questions running through your head. “i-i don’t know,” you stammer. “does it even count if it’s fake?”

“you’re the one making the rules.” tilting his head to the side, his eyes glimmer almost teasingly.

“but what are you suggesting? what do you have in mind?”

“well…” haechan hums as he thinks about it. “i could do everything with you on the list, as your fake boyfriend. in the timeframe that we’re going about carrying out this activity i’ll be fully and completely your boyfriend, yours to hug and kiss and hold hands with, until it’s over. then we can go back to being…” he smiles at you, hesitantly. “friends? does that work?”

this haechan makes your palms sweaty, and makes your breath catch. this haechan makes you feel jumpy, and nervous, and impulsive. you think you’d do anything he asked in that moment.

“okay.” you say slowly, and he smiles wide. “wait no.” you hesitate. “wait, fuck it, yes. let’s do it.”

he laughs. “are you sure?”

“wait.” his body heat is radiating off his skin as all his attention is focused on you. lips still pressed into a smile, his eyes bright and far too mesmerizing in the dim moonlight. and you can’t help but wonder then, “what if we catch feelings?”

tilting his head to the side in consideration, he leans in close, one arm reaching out to cage you in. the two of you are nose to nose. you can count his every eyelash, see the constellation of moles scattered across his face and neck. his breath so close to your own, that your eyes can’t help but flutter shut.

“then that’s the best part.” he whispers.

you try not to think about how you felt when haechan leaned in, or the way the circles he traced into the back of your hand were still burning. you couldn’t help looking for the smell of his perfume on your clothes.

you’re way too easy, y/n. this is only the first real conversation you’ve had with him.

you’re about to turn off the lights and call it a night, hoping to some power above that you’re able to reign in your emotions come morning, when there’s a light tap at your door.

“y/n? are you there?”

it’s him. you spend about 5 seconds debating whether or not to pretend you’ve already fallen asleep, but curiosity eventually wins you over. crossing over to the door, you place a hand on the doorknob.

“haechan?”

you can hear him shift from behind the door, pushing it so it keeps shut. “y/n, wait, don’t open the door. i just want to tell you something.”

slowly, you remove your hand from the doorknob and the latch clicks back, shut.

“okay…”

he’s breathing softly, and in the quiet you can hear it as if he were in the room with you. “y/n, i’m sorry i sprung the idea on you just now. you can forget i said anything if it made you uncomfortable.” he shifts his weight from foot to foot, nervously. “especially the part about catching feelings.”

“it’s fine,” you say softly, but there’s a little disappointment stinging at you. does he regret it?

“but also, if you’d like, i would really love to do all those things with you,” the words come out in a rush, as if he’s trying to be brave. “as fake lovers. without feelings attached.”

you don’t know what to say, and you can tell that for each second you stay silent, haechan is growing less and less confident behind the door. you run things through in your head quickly. this plan meant that you were able to jump headlong into romantic experiences you’ve dreamt of for what felt like your whole life, without the potential of them being ruined by a bad date, or waiting for years more to find the right one. and most of all, you trusted haechan with this.

haechan is leaning against the opposite wall, looking at the floorboards, but his head shoots up when you open the door.

taking a deep breath, you look him in the eyes. “let’s do it.”

“really?” shocked, he reaches for you — maybe to wrap you in his arms for a hug, but drops them, remembering what he had said about making you feel uncomfortable. putting his hands behind his back to resist the urge to swing you into the air, his expression of surprise melts into a huge smile. one that makes you laugh.

“you’re more excited about this than me,” you tease, and because you just can’t help it, you step forward and give him a quick hug. “thanks for doing this with me.”

instantly, his arms loop around your waist, squeezing tightly. “thank you for trusting me.”

the butterflies in your stomach, however, tell you that you were maybe being a bit too trusting. without feelings attached. because would that really be possible with him, who’s currently making your heart race and your breath catch?

it was a week since the beach house. and while the opening of summer felt optimistic and hopeful, now everyone had to wander back to their lives and figure out exactly what they were going to do for the next three months. jeno and renjun had an ongoing bet that jaemin would be fired from his summer job within the week. and jaemin had a bet with you that jeno and renjun wouldn’t find themselves a job that entire summer.

but you knew exactly what you were going to do for the season. and it all started with getting in the passenger seat of haechan’s car as he took you to a waffles place for breakfast.

“hey.”

“hi.” he flashes a quick smile at you. “you look nice today.”

“really?” you adjust the collar of your shirt self-consciously, checking on your hair through the rearview mirror.

“no, i lied.” he laughs, and the sound is all too fitting for the morning sunshine that flits in through the windows. “yes, i mean it. i like your shirt.”

“my shirt?”

“just take the compliment.”

you can’t help a smile of your own. “okay. i will.”

for a while, he drives in silence. it’s a peaceful sense of calm that you think you’ll come to enjoy. there’s a lot of comfort in just sitting next to haechan, watching his hands move on the wheel, his careful eyes scanning the road.

“so, y/n, i took a look at your list,” he starts.

you had texted him a small list of the things you were thinking about doing. the classic dinner and a movie. going to the amusement park. sharing a kiss while watching fireworks.

feeling a little shy all of a sudden in his car, you nod. “is it a bit much?”

“not at all,” he says quickly. “i was just wondering how you’ve never done some of those things before. i would’ve thought going to the amusement park was entry level honeymoon phase stuff.”

you nod approvingly. “it’s sweet that you think so.”

“didn’t you use to have a boyfriend?”

“i did,” you muse. “i dated mark a while ago.”

“our senior?”

“yeah.” looking out the window at the cars passing by, you think back to your time with mark. “he was always nice to me. but we never really went out and did things. we broke up because i was someone who loved romance, and he wasn’t.”

“i see.” haechan hesitates. there was something about the way you talked about mark that unsettled him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was. “do you think you could get back together with him?”

“trying to pass me off onto someone else already?” you don’t pick up on the shift in haechan’s tone, and mistake it for genuine curiosity. “i guess i could. maybe after these years apart he wants something romantic too.”

although the morning was warm, haechan felt a sense of cold sweep through him. he tries to brush it off. “well, thank your lucky stars you have me now”

looking over at him, his hair falling slightly over his eyes, the troubled crease of his brow, your thoughts of mark immediately clear. “thank you,” you say, a little too emotionally for the early morning and this car ride.

he looks over at you, and his chest eases up at the warmth in your eyes. “don’t mention it,” he says, and smiling at you is the easiest thing in the world.

the line for popcorn at the movies had stopped moving. fidgeting from the cold of the cinema, you wrap your arms around yourself as haechan stands by you, scrolling on his phone for a deal that he saw for a discounted drink combo. one arm slung casually over your shoulders, you lean into his touch just a little.

today he was helping you out by taking you for a date. specifically, the classic dinner and a movie idea that has been long since rendered obsolete, but you had never had a chance to do. standing in line, his fingertips brushing your shoulder, you recall how he had showed up 5 minutes early outside your apartment, holding a small bouquet of flowers, and doing the thing where he flicked his fingers to splay out the two movie tickets he had ordered early on. the two of you had dinner at a nice italian restaurant, and he had offered to pay but you insisted, since you were technically making him do all of this.

“are you cold?” drawing you out of your thoughts, you turn to see haechan, concern causing his eyebrows to furrow and his heart-shaped lips to form a slight pout. “why didn’t you bring a jacket? you knew we were going to watch a movie.”

the line moves forward by a fraction of an inch, and you take a step forward, haechan now standing slightly behind you. “i completely forgot,” you whined. “i just haven’t watched a movie at the cinema in a while.”

haechan bites back a smile, and slots his phone into his back pocket. the arm that is slung over your shoulder drops to your waist, while his other comes to circle around you from behind, and before you know it he’s pressed up against your back. you can feel the heat of his skin even with the thick hoodie he’s wearing over. dropping his head onto your shoulder, you feel him smile against your neck. “there,” he whispers. “now you won’t be cold anymore.”

trying to steady your nerves, you stare resolutely ahead. “couldn’t have just given me your jacket like a normal person?”

he shakes his head cutely, his soft hair tickling your jaw. “nope.”

you make sure your voice stays resolutely calm. “then what will we do during the movie? you’ll be sitting next to me.”

the line moves forward and haechan straightens, but his arms never leave your side. “guess you’ll have to hold on tight.”

and so you do. he ends up draping the hoodie over you during the movie, and he clings onto your arm, head resting on your shoulder. you hold on after the movie when he drops you off at home, grabbing onto his arm to steady yourself getting out of his car.

you hold on when he takes you for the next date at the amusement park; and when he tilts your chin upwards to press a kiss at the corner of your lips, your top-of-the-ferris-wheel moment, you squeeze his hands in yours and move so your lips slot against his. you tell him with your smile that it’s alright.

you hold on to him through your dates to the local aquarium, and to the beach. you let him pull you close as he drags you around the mall window-shopping, and as he guides you through clubs and restaurants.

and if some part of you gets scared that it might be getting too real, if some part of you feels a little hurt whenever he brings up the list or when he removes your hand from his, you ignore it as best you can.

“thanks for inviting me to this event,” you whisper, as you step into the doorway of the mansion, which really looks like a castle from the level of grandeur that meets your eyes. a man steps forward to take your coat, and you feel giddy.

“nah, sorry for stealing you away on some random summer night.” haechan smiles, and you feel a tug in your heart. in his suit, he looks like he belongs here with all this finery, the slopes of his shoulders and the slight cinch of the waist looking elegant under the chandeliers, the rings scattered on his hands catching the light in pretty ways. “besides, it’s all part of the experience, isn’t it?”

right. kissing and fireworks. trying to disguise the squeezing feeling in your chest, you smile back. “why do you keep bringing that up?”

“do you not want me to?” there’s something careful about the way he looks at you.

“i don’t.” you say, quietly.

“then i won’t.” he extends an arm for you to take. “tonight you’ll just be my date.” and with your heart thundering up your throat, he steers you into the warmth of the room.

you spend most of the night in the same giddy spiral of emotions, as he twirls you on the dance floor expertly, and winces dramatically when you step on his toes. your hands never leave each others’ grasps, as you stand around tables eating finger-food and drinking champagne. as the party went on, he introduced you through holding up your clasped palms to each of his parent’s friends, earning a lot of cooing and fussing about.

“haechan, how well you’ve grown up!”

“is this your girlfriend? haechan is so lucky to be with such a beautiful girl like you.”

“haechan! come say hello to the kids, they miss you!”

“this won’t take long,” he mumbles sadly to you, as an aunt of his insists he meet his cousins upstairs. “i’ll meet you at the bar, okay?”

“okay,” you smile, inwardly dying at the idea of haechan interacting with kids. as if he couldn’t get infinitely cuter. “have fun!”

“don’t let someone steal my date away,” he warns, as he’s pulled away. “i mean it – you’re mine tonight.”

you’re mine. you feel like you’re floating on a cloud as you make your way to the bar, you’re sure you’re at least swaying on your feet.

“woah.” a hand reaches out to steady you, helping you settle into a seat. “too much champagne?”

you gape at the man who’s sitting next to you now. “mark?”

fidgeting with the collar of his suit and looking very uncomfortable, he nods in greeting. “didn’t know you were coming to this thing.”

you look at him. he had gotten a haircut recently. but besides that in terms of appearance, he looked just as he did when the two of you were together, except for the fact that something about his demeanor was off. he looked tired, and there was something weary about his posture that hadn’t been there before.

“i was invited,” you tell him. “how are you here?”

“one of the ladies there is my aunt.” he pauses. “you’ve never met her. are you enjoying yourself?”

you think back to haechan’s smile as he sways underneath the lights, holding your hips. before you know it, you’re smiling too. “it’s a nice night. this place is really beautiful.”

mark studies you for a moment. “how have you been?”

“i’ve been alright.” you figure since there aren’t any hard feelings, you don’t have to make anything up as you would for an ex you were bitter over. mark was still a nice person, and he had been good to you in the right ways.

“it’s summer, so i’ve been going out more i guess. how about you?”

“i’ve been alright.” he downs his glass of white wine and signals for another one in a fluid motion, and you raise your eyebrows. shaking his head, he changes his answer.

“okay, things could be better.”

“why?”

“just been feeling a little lonely.”

you are so taken aback, that you let out a laugh. he looks at you, affronted, and somehow the furrow of his eyebrows makes you laugh even harder.

“i’m sorry,” you calm yourself down. “i wasn’t laughing at you, not really. it’s just…” you take a sip of your own drink. “i was in the exact same situation say a few months ago.” at his bewildered expression, you gesture. “please continue, though.”

mark shrugs and goes along with it. “i guess i was just realizing that i wasn’t as happy as i could be. there were times where i would be – i don’t know, having dinner, and i’d just think ‘damn. really wish i had someone with me right now.’ you know?”

“i do know.” you nod. “it’s crazy we’re experiencing the same thing, after, you know, so many years.”

“yeah.” he looks at you carefully. “crazy.”

“hey baby.”

a hand slides possessively around your waist, and you jump. the next thing you know, a pair of lips are kissing their way down your neck, as another hand snakes its way around you until you are fully in their embrace. craning your head up, you already know who you’re going to see.

“hi haechan,” you say breathlessly.

“sorry for leaving you for so long,” he murmurs, intermittently, as he continues to plant wet kisses on your neck. “the kids were going crazy.”

feeling like you were about to burn up into a crumble of ashes, you splutter out, “we have company.”

pulling away from you, haechan turns and stares at mark, coldly. “sorry, i didn’t notice.” his hand still draped over you, you can almost hear the forced normalcy in his voice when he asks, “and you are…?”

“mark,” mark supplies, awkwardly fidgeting with the coaster under his glass.

looking up at him, you see a flash of something race through haechan’s eyes, as he tightens his hold on you. “mark. well, hello, and goodbye.”

he pulls you to your feet, and you set down your drink hurriedly and latch onto his arm. “say goodbye to mark, sweetheart.”

“bye mark. things will get better, i’m sure of it,” you say, still left breathless by the turn of events.

raising his eyebrows, he turns back to the bar. “see you around y/n.”

“i don’t think so,” haechan chirps brightly, before tugging you away and past the throes of people, down a narrow hallway that was deserted.

“haechan, what are you doing?”

even in the dim lit of the hall, you can see his glower. “what were you talking to mark about?”

“i don’t know…” you shake your head, still a bit lost. “just about life, i guess.”

“did he ask to get back together with you?” he blurts out, suddenly.

“what? no!” you splutter.

“i heard him say he was lonely. who the fuck says that to their ex unless they want to get back together?”

you take the hard look in his eyes. hesitantly, you call out. “haechan?”

he huffs.

“he didn’t want to get back together, i promise.” he looks at you, warily. “and even if he did, i wouldn’t want to get back together with him.”

it is almost laughable how quickly his expression clears.

“you wouldn’t?”

“i wouldn’t,” you confirm. “i told you, i’m completely over it.”

“okay,” he sighs, in something that sounds like relief. and before you could even register it, he pulls you into a hug, crushing you against him. “sorry, i guess i got nervous.”

“that’s alright,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around him firmly, feeling his heartbeat against your ears, and you smile when you realise it’s racing.

“hey it’s almost midnight,” he dips down to whisper into your hear. “do you want to go to the balcony to watch the fireworks?” as you nod, he leads you gently away from the corridor and through a set of glass doors, stepping out onto a beautiful balcony. the night air smells like honey and roses, and the sky is clear and bright with moonlight.

you feel a tug at your fingertips, and you look to your side to find him smiling as he looks up.

“what are you smiling about?”

he hums. “i’m smiling about the fact that my date is the prettiest girl at the party.”

you pretend to wrinkle your nose, and use your free hand to hit him on the shoulder. “corny.”

“you love it.”

and because it’s been weeks, and haechan is slowly making a home in your heart, you decide you need to at least start acknowledging the honest truth of the matter, so you don’t say anything.

as the night sky fills with fireworks and the people inside the party cheer, he turns to hold your face in his hands, the tenderness and warmth in his eyes unparalleled by the lights in the sky.

you tilt your face up to kiss him, and as his arms fall to your waist, with a jolt you remember his voice at the bar. hey baby. the term of endearment swirls in your chest, and makes you drape your arms around his shoulders and pull him just a little closer. the two of you don’t break apart for what feels like hours, as you lose yourself in the feeling of his soft lips on yours, the brush of your noses, and the slight tremble of his fingertips on your cheeks. it feels and tastes as real as you have ever known.

except it’s not real. and you can’t ignore it. so you avoid it.

keeping busy and finally diving into all the things you wanted to do for the summer was your only way of telling haechan you couldn’t make it for the next ‘date’, or the next. you can tell he’s a little confused, but since the whole thing was your idea, he’s trying his best to respect whatever pace you’re deciding to go with. you push it all away, and you try to live life without thinking of him and his hands, the way he closes his eyes in bliss when the sunlight makes his skin glow, the way his hair looks after he tugs his hoodie off, and the feel of his lips when he presses his face into the crook of your neck when he thinks you’re not paying attention.

it’s late. you think you’ve definitely just had the longest day you’ve had all summer, running errands all around the city. all you wanted to do was lie in bed and put on a show that you could fall asleep to. lazily changing into your favorite pajamas, you set up your laptop on your bed, and you’re just about to press play when your phone screen lit up the dark room.

jaem: wru

one of jaemin’s summer house parties must’ve been today. you were so tired that you forgot.

y/n: too tired :( i don’t think i’ll go sorry

jaem: haechan needs you

you’re sure your heart actually stops beating for a second. haechan needs you. and just like that, your imagination kicks into overdrive, wondering what he could possibly need you for.

holding your breath, you watch the three dots on your screen indicating jaemin typing for what seems like ages before your phone buzzes again.

jaem: super hammered needs u to drive him home lol sry my bad that sounded weird

you let out a sigh of relief, but you can’t shake the adrenaline that rushed into you when you first saw the message.

y/n: can’t you let him crash at your place

jaem: he won’t stop ASKING for u it’s driving everyone crazy

a voice message comes through. he plays it, and it’s someone breathing really heavily. you’re beginning to wonder if jaemin sent this on accident, when haechan’s voice, low and husky from the alcohol, murmurs through the phone.

“y/n can you hear me? i wanna….wanna see you… please…i’ll do anything…”

“YOU’RE NOT BEING KIDNAPPED,” jaemin’s voice rings out, his words a little slurred but doing nothing to conceal the impatience in his tone. “GET A GRIP MAN.”

“PLEAAAAASE”, he raises his voice in an impressive whine, and you wince in second-hand embarrassment because you’re sure the entire living room must have heard that. “I MISS YOU.”

the voice message ends.

jaem: what a loser but yeah you get the gist of it

y/n: okay i’m on the way. can you get him on the phone?

jaem: do it yourself

on the drive there, you do call haechan.

he picks up halfway through the first ring of the phone. “y/n?”

“hi haechan. i’m on the way.”

“don’t lie to me,” he mumbles. “honk your car horn.”

“i’m not going to do that!,” you hiss, as if he were right here with you. “there are cars around.”

“liar,” he breathes. there’s a pause, and when you next speak you’re startled to hear his voice wobble. “liar. you’re not coming to get m-”

you slam your palm into your car horn, feeling your cheeks burn.

on the other end, he sniffles, and you presume he’s nodding at you. “okay. stay safe.”

“i will.” you hesitate. “is everything okay? did something happen at the party? are you hurt?”

he sighs over the phone. “everything is not okay,” he sniffles again, “because you’re not here.”

you swallow hard. you want to take a hand off the wheel and slap yourself, because you need to remember that he’s not himself right now, and he might regret this all in the morning. you calm yourself down before responding as lightly as you can. “haechan i’ll be there any minute now, okay? but you have to tell me if something happened and if you want to talk about it.”

he breathes heavily into the receiver. eventually, he mumbles out, “nothing happened.” shuffling, a pause, and then… “just miss you that’s all. i want to do more…more experience-y stuff with you.” more to himself than to you, he rambles on. “we’re falling behind you know. how are we going to finish this by the end of summer?”

a shot of pain twists at your guts, and you feel nauseous. so he really just wants to get all of this over and done with. you want to stop the car so you can throw up. you want to turn it back around. you’re suddenly regretting dropping everything just because he wanted to see you, because if this was why…

you keep driving on autopilot. the call has gone silent, but you can hear haechan breathing on the other end, and it’s driving you mad. you have no right to yell at him, but you almost do.

when you pull up at jaemin’s driveway, you clear your throat. your voice controlled, you say, “i’m here now. you want me to come in and get you?”

“okay. i’m in the 1st floor bathroom.”

the front door swings open, and you’re met with jaemin. at first, you think he’s going to tell you off for taking so long, but something in your face causes the words to die in his throat.

“y/n?” he asks. “are you okay?”

and before you know it, you’re wrapped in his arms in a hug and you’re bawling like you hadn’t for months. the built up pressure of avoiding haechan, of having to get into character as his girlfriend and having to get out of character just as often, and all your confusion at your feelings leave you sobbing and you just can’t stop. jaemin’s running his hands down your back and making soft, soothing noises.

you realise that you just really, really, missed your best friend.

“i’m s-sorry,” you choke out. “i haven’t come round to see you ever since the start of s-summer.”

“it’s okay,” he shakes his head, and leans back to look at you, wiping tears off your face gently. “we’ve both been busy.”

but you shake your head. “i really need to talk to you. i need your opinion in my life.”

he laughs at that. “i never thought i’d hear you say that.”

you just go back to hugging him as you slowly calm down, and the constricting feeling in your chest eases. but after a moment, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and when you check it you see that haechan has spammed your text messages with a bunch of ‘?????????’ and sad faces.

jaemin, ever the nosiest person in the room, is looking at your phone with a frown. “you never told me you started dating haechan, by the way.”

ignoring the twist in your stomach, you shake your head. “that’s because i’m not.” jaemin raises his eyebrows, and you elaborate. “we’re just doing coupley things. for the experience.”

narrowing his eyes because he knows you way too well, jaemin asks, “was this something you decided in the middle of the night? it’s sounding very classic middle-of-the-night-y/n ….” but at the look of frustration on your face, he immediately drops it. “okay, okay. not now. i get it.”

“y/n? are you here?”

you still, as haechan shuffles into view. he squints, until he confirms that it’s you, and suddenly he’s rushing towards you giddily and unsteadily, his socked feet slipping and sliding on the floor of the hallway until hes collapsed in your arms.

and there it is: his damn face in your neck again.

“wondered where you were, angel” you feel his hot breath against the base of your neck, and shivers shoot down your spine. “can i call you that? is it allowed?”

exchanging glances with you, seeing how this was slowly making you go insane, jaemin reaches out hesitantly to pry him off of you. “haechan, maybe it’s best if you stay at my place tonight-”

but haechan is quick to shrug him off, and with an agility that he shouldn’t be capable of in his state he pivots behind you and clings onto your back. his face once again buried in your neck.

“don’t wanna,” he shakes his head vigorously. “wanna stay with y/n.”

“y/n doesn’t want to stay with you,” jaemin starts forward again, making eye contact with you as he confirms, “right, y/n?”

haechan spins you around in his hold, with the most wounded expression you’ve ever seen from him, or anyone for that matter. his eyes filling with tears, his cheeks flushed and his lip wobbling in an alarming way, he chokes out, “you d-don’t want…to s-stay…with me?”

“i do, i do.” you assure him, trying to soothe him by drawing circles on his back with your thumb as he bites back sobs. over haechan’s back, you can see jaemin sigh defeatedly. “what am i supposed to do, he’s about to cry!” you hiss at him.

“he can cry on cue,” jaemin mouths.

pause. what?

you look back at haechan’s face, but every expression seems to be genuine: his bottom lip caught between his teeth and the tears shimmering in his lashes, his hands — which he barely seems to be aware of — caressing your sides nervously, as if afraid you were going to disappear into thin air.

“haechan,” you start. “are you lying to me?”

but that was the wrong thing to say. the better part of the next hour was spent trying to console a weeping and sobbing haechan on his knees, who would not stop clutching your waist and biting jaemin when he tried to pry him off of you. and then it was guiding him to your car, and another round of consoling as you assured him that no, you weren’t going to disappear as you were driving, and no, you could not drive one-handed so you could not hold his hand the entire way, but yes, he could put his hand on your thigh if he promised he wouldn’t do anything else.

you end up reaching, and then driving away from haechan’s apartment, because he would not leave the car without you and you figured that you might as well get a good night’s sleep at your own home. and somehow, you end up digging out some of mark’s old clothes out from the back of your closet for him to wear. and now, you’re standing between his legs, brushing his teeth for him while he looks at you adoringly.

he mumbles something intelligible, his mouth full of toothpaste foam, and you shake your head tiredly at him.

“nuh-uh. rinse your mouth out first.”

you hold the spare mug up to his mouth and his lips wrap around the rim of it obediently. turning to spit in the sink, he swivels back to face you, his arms never leaving your side.

“i’m sorry.” he says, quietly.

“it’s okay. i know you’d do the same for me,” you say, patiently, because it’s true. if you were drunk, haechan would definitely drop everything to make sure you were safe.

that you were sure of, because that was just the kind of person he was.

“no,” he tugs his bottom lip with his teeth again, looking nervous. “it’s not about that.” his arms remove themself from your waist and he wraps them around himself instead. all of a sudden, you’ve never felt colder.

“what do you mean?”

he doesn’t look at you in the eye when he answers. “sorry for bringing up our deal. that’s not why i miss you.”

you think you could cry. “really?” he nods, but his eyes are still on the floor. “haechan…” you press. “look at me.”

he looks up. he looks so pretty right there, his heart-shaped lips and moles scattered haphazardly over his cheeks and nose.

“so why do you miss me?” you ask, hoping against hope. his lips part, and for a split second you think he’s going to lean forward and kiss you.

but then his lips press together. he shakes his head. and again. and then he slides off the counter, brushes past you and out of the bathroom despite you calling his name. and when you break yourself out of your daze and walk, trembling slightly, to your bedroom, you see him tucked under the covers, fast asleep.

“i still don't’ get this ‘quiet haechan’ thing you keep going on about,” jaemin chews thoughtfully on a forkful of salad. “but okay, i’ll bite.”

you’re having lunch with jaemin for the first time in weeks. with nothing much going on in his life for the summer, him waving you off when you apologised again about not checking in with him, the two of you breezed past your usual topics and quickly moved on to the elephant in the room: you and your fake relationship with haechan.

nervously, you pick at your fries. “do you think i should just tell him we can stop now?”

jaemin shook his head. “that’s not the main problem.” ever the mom best friend, he takes a pause for dramatic effect before leaning in. “the main problem is that your catching feelings policy is completely shit.”

you glare at him, but don’t manage to keep it up. he’s right. “you think i should ask him about that?”

“of course.” jaemin shrugs. “but you could also just confess and see what happens.” at your mortified expression, he raises a hand to calm you down. “you never know until you try.”

unwilling to address the fact that he assumed you were in love with haechan, and the fact that he was probably right, you argue back. “you’re the one who’s friends with the both of us. do you have any idea if he maybe likes me or not?”

“i’m not telling you,” jaemin says, stubbornly. “you have to make the decision and accept the risks it comes with.”

you put your head in your hands. “i really hate you sometimes.”

as it turned out, ‘sometimes’ turned out to be occuring quite frequently, because jaemin seemed hell bent on getting you to talk to haechan, even if it was through the most roundabout ways.

such as inviting the beach-house group of friends over for dinner the next day, just so you had a reason to talk to haechan.

and that led you to where you were, currently, jaemin putting the cap back on his black marker as the words “ASK ABT CATCH FEELINGS POLICY” scrawled over your wrist and palm.

“i’ll remember to ask him, i swear,” you say impatiently, trying to wriggle your arm out of his grasp, but jaemin was a man on a mission.

“i don’t trust you,” he insists. “this way, even if you don’t bring it up, he’ll read it off your arm, and you will both talk it out.” finishing up with a few exclamation points, he caps his marker triumphantly.

you’re about to head to the bathroom to wash it off, when haechan shuffles into the living room, and embarrassingly it’s as if your mind is wiped clean.

between the night he slept over and now, the two of you had only seen each other once. he had called to apologize for bothering you the night of jaemin’s party, and you made plans to have lunch together, not dinner (because night time was always an emotional affair for the two of you, as evidenced in the past few weeks).

sitting in the sun, staring at him while he talked, the two of you eating in semi-silence, was enough for you to realise that no matter what time of day it was you would always be a little too giddy over him. the two of you, in some sort of mutual agreement, had left it at that — him bidding you goodbye with a pat on the shoulder, of all things.

and now, standing in front of you, his eyes just as confusing with their tenderness, you think that jaemin may be onto something.

“so how can i help?” haechan looks around the room, his mind on the dinner. “do we have all the materials? or…”

“everything’s in the kitchen, haechan,” you nod in the direction of the dining table. “i’ll show you.”

haechan nods, more to himself than you. then, hesitantly, he starts, “y/n…”

something had to give. but not now, not as you felt everything in you crashing down, your heart threatening to spill over at the edges just at the sight of him again.

“we’re good.” you interrupt. “everything’s going to be okay, haechan.”

he bites his lip.

“it will be,” you insist. “we’ll talk later, okay?”

his expression clears a little at that. “okay.”

in the car on the way home, jaemin insisting haechan drive you, it begins to drizzle slightly. after the moment from just now, the two of you had almost been able to go back to normal, working side by side and sitting together during dinner. topics opening up between you, discussing what happened in the days you hadn’t seen each other. things were comfortable, and you almost felt like you could go back to ignoring the aching feeling in your chest.

it slowly starts to end when the car peels into the street in front of your apartment. the two of you go quiet, and haechan’s body is tense as he looks straight ahead.

you realise you hadn’t even brought up what you had meant to say.

“do you…maybe…want to come inside?” you suggest. “we could watch a movie?”

“it’s late.” he says, almost automatically. he looks over at you, and you look so hesitant and sad. fuck. something stirs inside his chest, and suddenly he wants to do anything to take that look away from your face.

“i mean, i could. just for a movie.”

you smile, and haechan relaxes.

cozied up on your bed, haechan in a pair of sweats he had left over some other time, you slump against him as your eyes flicker between watching the movie on your laptop screen, and watching him. something about the way things were going tonight told you this might be the last time you could be with him like this, and you wanted to cherish it while you could.

the music swells in the random drama film you picked, and you are feeling that feeling again, the one that you get when you’re about to spill your soul out, and even with haechan’s warmth against you — his arm tucked into your waist and your head resting against his chest, the reality that he wasn’t yours was crashing down all the walls in your heart.

he realises you’re crying before you do, as he registers the jagged breathing from your chest, and the soft sounds you’re making.

“y/n? what’s wrong?”

“i-i, i just.” you breathe, and your sobs wreck through your words, each one stabbing painfully at his chest. “i’m just s-so tired of not h-having someone who loves me that much.”

running a hand up and down your back, haechan makes soft cooing noises as you bury your face in his chest. “okay. so watching this film was a baaaad idea.”

you’re muffled sobs soak through his hoodie, and you press it closer to your face because it smells safe and it smells like him. your emotions running away from you, you splutter out, “maybe i’ll never find s-someone. maybe i just have to deal w-with it. these experiences are just t-temporary fixes, aren’t they? i’ll never find someone who l-loves me. i mean, right now i am so in love with you and you don’t even seem to c-care —”

haechan stills. he sits there, motionless, you still quivering in his arms, as his brain kicks into overdrive.

you’re in love with him?

incoherent, you’re still talking on and on, and suddenly he knows it isn’t something he should be hearing.

“shut up.” he says, quietly, but you ignore him and ramble on. “shut up,” he insists.

“you d-don’t want me,” you sob, and somewhere in the back of your mind you know you’ll be embarrassed about this later, but for now all you could focus on was the fact that haechan wasn’t reacting because he was probably completely disgusted at the idea of even being with you. “i-i started to ignore you because it was too difficult to be around you, and suddenly you show up drunk and asking for me, and then you just act like nothing happened and i have the feeling that i’ll never see you again-”

“fuck it,” he breathes, and suddenly he’s holding your face in his hands, moving you away from his chest. “shut up, y/n. please.” and then he is kissing you, his mouth moving on yours, begging you to understand. you think he’s drawing the breath straight from your lungs, and you’re sure your lips will bruise, but you kiss him back with even more fervor, settling your weight on his lap as you lean into him, and he groans.

breaking away from you, breathing heavily, he reaches for your hands and begins to press kisses to your knuckles, trying to ease you.

“haechan…” you start, because everything is so confusing to you at this moment. “don’t-you don’t mean it-”

“what’s this?” he interrupts, as he flips your palm up, raking the sleeves of your hoodie upwards so the words “ASK ABT CATCH FEELINGS POLICY!!!!!”, smudged but unmistakable, could be read even in the dim room.

“oh, y/n…” he whispers, reaching to stroke your cheek. leaning into his palm, completely lost in his touch, you mumble on.

“jaemin said our catching feelings policy was shit…” you blurt out. “and i agree. i want a new one. i want to be allowed to love you.”

gently, haechan continues to whisper to you. “you’re the one making the rules.” trembling, his arms wrap around you, and he rocks you in his hold tenderly. “you’ve always been the one making the rules. i would do anything you told me to. i would love you if you asked.”

you don’t understand any of the words he’s saying. “no,” you raise your voice a little louder, even though he’s still speaking in that low voice. “you don’t want me.” your eyes fill with tears, you can see it now: he’s comforting you, he’s lying to you because you’re crying, and haechan is nothing but good to you, a kindness and gentleness in everything he does that you just know you’ll never feel again.

“y/n that’s not true,” he shakes his head resolutely. “please believe me.”

his voice is patient and soothing, and it’s that tone which slowly calms you down. the gentle rhythm of his hands tracing circles on your arms allowing you to breathe easier, and relax a little in his hold to be able to really look at him. and it’s the worry in his eyes, and softness in the way he’s looking at you which makes something click into place in your head.

and so what if everything in your relationship with him was supposed to be fake — the dates, the moments he’s introduced you as his girlfriend. everything else in between had started to be real for you — the kisses, the time you told him not to mention the deal or the list or the experience at all and so he didn’t, brushing his teeth for him as he sat on the counter, skin brushing against yours.

and so what if it was real for him too — the times where he’s held your hand or pulled you close when you weren’t paying attention, the nights on the drive back when he would look over at you incessantly?

untangling yourself from him, you reach for the notebook and pen you keep on your nightstand. he doesn’t stop you, tilting his head in confusion.

“what are you doing?”

holding it out to him, your heart hammering in your chest, you gesture for him to take it. “write me something i can read when i wake up. it’s so i have…,” you take a breath. “it’s so i have proof that it’s real.”

something stirs in haechan’s chest. taking the pen in his hands, he begins to scrawl on the notebook, looking up at you as he’s writing.

“if you still feel the same way, call me as soon as possible, okay?”

“okay,” you promise, breathlessly.

the yearning in your eyes is driving him crazy. guiltily, he reaches for you again, and slots his lips in yours, holding you tightly against him. as if kissing you was the last thing he would ever get to do.

you have half a mind to move into his lap, wrap your legs around his waist and keep him with you forever, but already he pries your hands away from him and heads for the door, reluctance making his movements disjointed and shaky.

“go to sleep, y/n.” he says, gently. “i’ll see you soon.”

and with that, he’s gone, and you’re left on your bed, the note at your bedside burning a hole into your table. shutting away your laptop, you curl up under the covers, and somewhere in your mind you pray that the light of day doesn’t treat you too harshly.

dear y/n,

last night you told me that you were in love with me. i don’t know if it was the loneliness, or even if it was too late at night for you to be thinking straight. all i know is that i love you too. i didn’t think you would want me unless we were playing pretend. but now i can’t look at you without realising i am completely fucking in love with you. i’m sorry that you never knew, and that somehow i messed up to the point where you didn’t believe me when i told you. if you wake up tomorrow and you still want me, call me. i will do everything with you again if it means it’ll be real.

love, haechan

it’s a little difficult to be around your friend group when they’re all like this.

summer was drawing to a close, the optimism at the start and the feeling of endless days under the sun slowly fading to a blistering heat, which then slowly tapered out into a hazy sense of being in limbo. soon the seasons would change, the days get shorter and the nights grow longer, the loneliest parts of the year stretching out before everyone. the sense that this had been another summer of wasted potential, the sense of taking a deep breath before the dive, of holding love close to one’s heart and hoping it’s enough to last through the winter, hanging in the air.

you had walked over to jaemin’s apartment for breakfast with everyone, practicing the entire way. you were going to tell haechan you wanted to talk to him. pull him away from the group, and talk to him in a separate room. the letter from last night, from him, seeming to burn right through your palms, words you wanted to echo right back at him.

but when you opened the door, you realise he wasn’t there. instead, everyone else sat slumped around the living room, prodding at various snacks and cans, and waving at you lazily as you picked your way through them, looking for the familiar mop of brown hair and eyes you had come to love.

“jaemin,” you make your way to your friend, who’s crumpled into the couch himself.

“hey y/n,” he smiles at you easily. “how did it go yesterday?”

“well it’s still going,” you admit. “where’s haechan?”

jaemin furrows his brow. “i swear he just arrived. i think he said something about getting us breakfast.”

your body moves before you can think to, winding through the room and carrying you towards the front door and out into the driveway. and there it is — his car, slowing backing out. and through the window you can see him, looking over his shoulder, the familiar twist of his neck you knew so well. the arm he would throw over the passenger seat.

you call out to him, and by some miracle he hears you. he stops the car jerkily, and you rush towards him. he had just barely gotten out of the car when you fall into his arms — you think you never want to be separated from him again.

squeezing you against his chest, he murmurs next to your ear. “you read my message?” you nod. “i meant every word,” he says, kissing the crown of your head. “i know we’ve done this all backwards. really sometimes i just wish i could go back and ask you out like i should have done.”

“i don’t regret it,” you tell him truthfully. stepping back from his hold, you interlock his hands with yours, relishing the familiar feeling. “i don’t regret any of the things we did.”

“me neither.” he hesitates. “actually…maybe i regret getting drunk at jaemin’s party.” he shuffles his feet. “i missed you a lot, and i feel like i should have just told you then.”

“maybe.” pause. “or you should tell me again now, because i don’t think i’ve heard you say it.” and it’s something that’s a little teasing, because at this point you know he loves you just as much as you love him, but haechan takes it so seriously — straightening up, he holds your hands against his chest, looking deep into your eyes. you feel a little out of breath from the way he’s looking at you.

“i’m really sorry,” he starts. “for everything. i love you so much. everything i ever told you, every time we’ve touched, it was real for me.”

“and if i believe you?”

he smiles. and it’s a look you know so well, the familiarity in reading his expressions and talking to him without words hitting you full force.

“just tell me you love me too,” he says, softly. “not because it’s at night, and you’re feeling lonely, and not while you’re crying. was it real for you too?”

and even though you’re soon interrupted by jaemin, who urges the two of you to go get breakfast together. even though the two of you keep making lists of places you want to go, and things which feel like love to you — haechan presenting you with music to dance in the kitchen to, afternoons spent restaurant hopping and nights spent driving to look at the ocean and sit under the stars. even as winter eventually rolls around, and the two of you bundle yourselves up in the apartment, his cheeks perpetually a shade of red which makes you want to kiss him —

neither of you forget the way it all started. that first time he held your hand in the middle of the kitchen and warmed you all the way through. because everything was real. and in a way, it always had been.

#2k on fake 2 real hyuck!!! thank u guys so much for all the lovely reviews 🫂#srb

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