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kithtaehyung · 3 years

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Last November (M)

title: last november (m) post date: december 14th, 2020, 8pm est ⤷ revamped/extended: march 27th, 2021, 10pm est pairing: seokjin x reader(f) genre: angst, smut, exes to lovers au summary: you two broke up on good terms. even seeing each other on your friends’ yearly end-of-november trip was never awkward. so why did this trip feel so different? and why does it feel like the end of something that wasn’t even there in the first place? warnings: angst, bad puns and jokes, mutual pining, light dom/sub undertones, oral sex (m/f receiving), nipple play, hair-pulling, choking, rough sex, unprotected sex (pls be responsible!), dirty talk, spanking, creampie, seokjin is a consent king, did i say angst?, did i also say bad puns and jokes? mobile users: alt link if this doesn’t open in tumblr ➛ AO3 word count: 23.7k 24.7k !!

On the last Friday of every November, your group of friends piled into two cars and set off into the mountains.

Ever since you all graduated from high school years ago, everyone branched off into their individual, intricate walks of life. Different towns, different jobs, different social circles.

But before those grand adventures started, each of you promised one thing: a yearly trip to keep the friendship alive.

This time around, you happened to be in the “decidedly more fun” car as Jimin, Taehyung, and your longtime friend Rin jammed the backseat with singing and road trip games. Since Seokjin took driver, you claimed navigator, leaving the front of the vehicle a bit muted compared to the other half. Which was fine - you always loved relaxing on the sidelines while your friends played with chaos and hilarity.

Namjoon kept you company from time to time, too, so you weren’t completely alone in your preferred space.

The only thing that could’ve made the ride awkward was if you and Seokjin were on bad terms.

It wasn’t every day you found yourself sitting beside your ex, after all.

But that simple fact didn’t phase you. The truth was that your breakup was clean and painless - a massive relief to your friends. Back then, it would have torn everyone to pieces picking sides.

The split was so organic that you couldn’t recall an awful reason why it happened. Separation proved as natural as the changing of seasons: you had moved away for university and he powered through his own medical pursuits. Over time, the relationship simmered to a text every few days, resulting in the night in which you decided that it was better to remain friends.

What sucked was the fact that, over the course of time after the breakup, you fell for Seokjin. Annoying, charming, incredible Seokjin.

You didn’t come to terms with it until last November, when you watched his eyes sparkle under an indigo ocean of stars and it just clicked. Agony carved into your heart some nights when you thought about nothing else, but you couldn’t admit your feelings. Not when you two decided that your river had run its course. You couldn’t risk smothering the last embers of your relationship, so radio silence remained your lonely swan song.

Of course you wanted to admit it. You wanted to tell him. Because no matter who came after, they all fell short. Every smile flashed your way, every pair of arms wrapped around your torso, every night spent between the sheets. Nothing compared to what you got from Jin. That man created a hole in your heart that lingered in his wake, a hole through which all of your subsequent relationships plummeted.

The truth was simple: you didn’t want to ruin what you had. Even if what you two would always be was just friends, that endgame was enough for you.

At least, that’s what you told yourself. Every night when you couldn’t sleep, and every morning when you woke up to an empty bed.

Your vision snapped into focus as your phone screen bloomed. The maps app signaled for a turn, so you relayed the direction to Seokjin, who repeated the direction out loud before following through.

Just like always.

The road in front of you melted into a different scene entirely as you recalled why he started that habit. It sprouted from one of your car rides to a diner situated on the other side of your hometown.

During the drive, you did your best as navigator, but your boyfriend was so into the music playing that he missed some turns. One errant right later had you both terribly lost, the surrounding area swallowing the car in darkness. On instinct, you dove into defense mode, trying and failing not to outright panic.

“My maps won’t load,” you stuttered, hitting the screen with your finger, “Shit, shit, shit.”

“Don’t worry, I can just—”

“Don’t tell me not to worry,” you bit out. “Let’s just get out of here.” You hated how pure paranoia pricked at the corners of your eyes. Getting lost was completely irksome and going back home was more appealing to you than moving forward with the date.

“Okay. I won’t,” Seokjin assured you, turning the wheel and rolling the car out from the shadowy street. “How can I help instead?”

“Oh, umm.” With grateful eyes, you stared at your boyfriend and admired his consideration. You’ve never been asked that while upset before. “You could, uh, repeat the directions before following them? That might help.”

His lips curved into a smile, and streetlights flooded the car to bathe his sincerity in a warm glow. “Repeat directions, you got it.”

The memory faded as you blinked and observed the endless mountain range enveloping the road. Snow topped the summits in white caps; coniferous trees swallowed the steep slopes. As if reminiscence clogged your ears, the music in the car seemed louder outside your broken reverie.

Taehyung, as always, took charge of the aux. He usually had an eclectic mix of tunes on rotation but, that time, nothing but upbeat Christmas music was queued. You had to admit: merry music coating the car windows and mountainous scenery claiming your entire vision put you in the best mood.

It was even better when Seokjin sang along. You really did like his singing voice.

“I like my singing voice, too.”

Your eyes snapped toward the driver, expression freezing over as you drank in his delight. Did you really say that out loud? You knew Seokjin enough to know that he was never going to let that go.

“Yeah, well…” You lazily swatted his grin away. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

Seokjin chuckled, his hands comfortably resting on the wheel. “Are you offering to do that for me? It’s minimum wage, but I’d hire you.”

Rolling your eyes felt like the only appropriate response, so you did exactly that, your exasperated gaze looping around to land on your phone. “Relish this moment, Seokjin,” you advised, zooming out in the maps app to make sure you were still heading in the right direction, “Because it won’t happen again. And take the next exit. We’re almost there.”

“Yes, yes, next exit.” You missed the smirk on his face as he scanned the roadside for the telltale sign. “Moment relished,” he quipped, “But I prefer my moments with ketchup and mustard.”

Your groan drowned in his boisterous laughter, but the hand on your face betrayed you since it couldn’t quite cover up the glee that formed right after.

An hour later, everyone had unloaded the vehicles at the campgrounds and pitched the tents. While Hoseok and Jungkook worked on starting the fire pit, Namjoon and Jimin took their time organizing the food and snacks. Rin had disappeared with Taehyung somewhere, but Yoongi said he spotted them taking pictures a ways off.

“They should be helping,” he muttered. “There’s a lot to do before it gets dark out.”

Squatting down to rotate sizzling meat on your portable grill, you waved him off. “They’re shot-swapping since it’s golden hour.”

The silence that followed gave you pause. When you looked up in curiosity, Seokjin and Yoongi regarded you like a foreign language coated your tongue, their struggle to decipher it earning a chuckle of pity.

“They’re both huge influencers, so they know how to take pictures. They always do this when we get together,” you explained, spinning the kebab onto another side, “And golden hour is around sunrise and sunset. It looks like everything is soaked in gold, and it makes your pictures look pretty. But that’s an old term already! You geezers should keep up.”

Yoongi simply raised an eyebrow and kneeled to turn his designated stick. Smoke from the charred meat wafted into your noses as he declined, “I’ll pass. That sounds stressful.”

A rapid clapping of tongs next to your ear preceded Seokjin’s offer, “What are we waiting for? Let’s golden hour swap!”

Why did he have to be so endearing? A cough escaped your throat, disjointed laughs following right after in their awkward escape. Beside you, Yoongi flung condescension Jin’s way, his voice stocked with disappointment as he warned, “Don’t speak. You age yourself.”

You transferred your kebabs to a foiled plate before standing, blood rushing to your lower legs. Seokjin was unleashing a hearty tirade at the other man grilling when you intervened, “That sounds nice, actually. I’m in a photography class so I was planning on taking some photos anyways. Lemme just get my camera.”

As you walked away, you couldn’t escape the abrupt change in atmosphere hovering over the grills, its looming tension caressing the back of your coat in a slight push. The words exchanged were soft in volume, but their possible meanings stayed clanging in your ears.

“Did you tell her yet?”

“No.”

“Do it. She deserves to know.”

You slipped out of your tent with a heavy jacket and lightheadedness. Medicine would’ve helped with the latter, but the med kit Seokjin packed remained strictly for emergencies. Besides, you couldn’t quite slap a bandage on what was truly bothering you anyways.

As you inspected your class-registered Polaroid, you continued to wonder what Yoongi meant earlier.

What was he implying? You deserved to know what? You couldn’t say the feeling swirling around your gut was a positive one. After all, there was a distinct difference in what a person should know, and what a person deserved to know. What was so important that Yoongi practically ordered Seokjin to spill?

Was there another person in his life now? That was one thing that crossed your mind, but you filed that under the “should know” category, even though it twisted your stomach to think about.

The news had to be something urgent.

Was Seokjin getting married?

Without your permission, vessels in your heart shriveled, squeezing life from your already battered soul. A betrothal was entirely possible with his pursuit of a medical degree and coming from a well-to-do family. Maybe he was in an arrangement?

That possibility dropped an anvil on your chest. You couldn’t say that you were completely fine were that the truth. How could you be fine with something like that if you loved him? Of course, you would be happy if he was, but your heart would require recuperation for an extended amount of time. Give or take a few years.

You wandered so far into the depths of your mind that Seokjin’s sudden appearance kicked you back to shore, a yelp leaving your mouth at the same time your Polaroid left your hands. If the camera wasn’t hanging from your neck, you would’ve been in deep shit with your professor as soon as it hit the cold soil.

Its bulky frame definitely bruised your lower chest on the downswing, though. “Ow. Geez, Jinnie, you can’t just sneak up on people like that.”

Your eyes widened in realization. Jinnie? Shit, you hadn’t called him that since you guys were dating. Quite obviously, the stockpile of thoughts and worries involving his secret were blocking your brain from better judgment.

And apparently you weren’t the only one affected by that nickname because Seokjin’s eyebrows shot into his dark locks, his peculiar glance shifting away. Odd.

After an awkward second, he cleared his throat. “Does it hurt?”

Is it supposed to? You knew he was inquiring about your injury but your thoughts drifted to what hadn’t been divulged yet. “No, it’s fine,” you lied. “Let’s pick a spot before we lose the light.”

You don’t remember how long you walked, but the pair of you ended up far from the original campsite.

In your defense, it wasn’t like you planned that outcome. The trees matched at every turn, so you kept wandering until you found a good clearing - or at least some rocks to break the forested monotony.

A foil to your pickiness, Seokjin voiced his thoughts every ten paces, his votes of confidence constantly crushed by your boots. If you had a cent for every time he declared a spot “the one,” you could actually afford the Polaroid dangling from your neck.

It was at a calm clearing with some patches from last snowfall where you decided to settle.

Unhooking the strap from your neck, you ushered, “Let’s do this quick. It’s almost over.”

“I wanna do it first!” You thought Seokjin meant to take the camera from you, but instead he scuttled into the clearing, striking a pose once he reached its center. Of course the fool meant that he wanted his pictures taken and not the other way around. How was any other idea plausible? “Hurry up, you said!”

“The ‘S’ in Seokjin stands for ‘Selfish,’” you yelled, positioning the Polaroid against your eye regardless. His face enlarged in the lens and, to his credit, you couldn’t argue that he was the clear model between you two. The man could pursue a career in fashion instead of medicine and you wouldn’t bat an eye.

He looked handsome merely standing there, cheeks dimpling at nothing in particular and his charm ever effortless. Even the slight bags under his eyes didn’t take away from his natural beauty.

Par for the course with Seokjin. That unbothered self-assurance was one of the traits you liked and hated about him.

At least, initially. The more you got to know him, your outlook on that defining characteristic was one of admiration, not hatred. You simply needed to start shoving some of that confidence down your own throat like a different type of vitamin C.

After a telltale camera snap, the man threw out his coated arms in another pose. “And the ‘Seok’ stands for ‘Seok in my presence!’”

“I think I’ve been in it long enough. My fingers are pruny,” you droned while lowering your Polaroid, ignoring his wiggling in the background. It seemed you were still accustomed to his ridiculousness.

Yet another thing you gave him credit for: he was never afraid to be a dork. When you first met him, you admittedly thought he was faking it. Over time, you recognized his authenticity, and you grew fond of everything wrapped in the gift that was Kim Seokjin.

You waited for the picture to materialize in your hand. When your impatient model approached you and asked why you weren’t shaking the polaroid, you informed him that you should, in fact, not do that. “It’ll damage the final product!”

“So that song is…”

“Wrong. Yes.”

Pure shock flashed across his face. “What other lies have I been told?”

The captured memory started blossoming, and you watched as the color bled into life. “That you aren’t the funniest person on the planet,” you answered, earning a scoff.

“In that case, you’ve just been misinformed.” Seokjin huffed before offering an outstretched palm. “Now hand over the camera, it’s your turn.”

“Me?” You didn’t think he was serious when he said swap. In reality, you just assumed he whipped up an excuse for you to take pictures of him.

And you didn’t mind. It was nice to have that charming smile directed at you, even if only through the lens of a camera. The Polaroid would be your shield, blocking Seokjin from the pain swimming in your eyes, barely afloat in pools of regret and guilt and loneliness.

“Yes, woman! When was the last time you had your picture taken?”

Slowly, embarrassment swelled across your cheeks when you realized it had been a very long time. Legitimately long. You never asked others to take your picture; rather, you were always the one behind the lens. The last time someone actually offered was…

“When you took one,” you stuttered out breathily, “At that park.”

It was during one of the last dates you two went on before you left for university. There was a carnival you were dying to visit, and Seokjin surprised you with tickets and a kiss.

You remember being so elated while traversing through the whimsical booths, failing fantastically at the rigged games, scarfing down sticky, billowy cotton candy. Squeaky horns and childish laughter filled your ears, and you could still feel Jin’s gentle fingers on your hand as he shyly tugged you under glowing stringed lights.

The main attraction was a carousel keeping everything else in orbit, its charisma shining like a golden, spinning sun. When night fell, you too gravitated toward its charm, standing behind its barricade to watch horses and teacups endlessly turn.

It was so captivating that you forgot yourself and where you were - who you were supposed to be spending time with. Swiveling in fear, you scanned the bustling crowd for your boyfriend, realizing that you needn’t worry at all.

Seokjin simply waited behind you, holding up his phone and telling you to pose. You were so caught off-guard in that moment that your face contorted hilariously right as he snapped the photo. In his eyes, it was the greatest picture of all time.

However, it wasn’t that well received by its subject. You begged Seokjin to delete it, and he finally caved on the grounds that you took a replacement. Conceding, you stomped back to the gate guarding the twirling attraction and pranked your boyfriend with a blank expression.

But as soon as Seokjin drawled “You look like you don’t care-ousel,” you burst into laughter - your unabashed mirth becoming his background on every device he owned.

The scene faded from your eyes as the current Seokjin stood in front of you, gripping the Polaroid instead of his phone. Gone were the lights and sounds of the theme park and, with them, your fleeting moment of solace.

“Oh,” was all he stated in return, and you swore the temperature chose to drop in that moment just to mock you.

“You know I don’t prefer it anyways.” Your heart was losing its grip, sorrow evident in your shaky tone. You folded your arms to shield your body from the weather and unwanted emotions. “I’m definitely not as photogenic as you.”

“Nonsense,” Seokjin shot back. “Now hurry up, it’s only golden minute now!”

And just like that, his warmth melted any awkwardness like spring chasing away winter.

In retrospect, he probably regarded that moment at the carnival differently, or he just wanted to keep those memories in the past where they belonged. It hurt to be the only one so strongly affected by them, but Jin had the right idea. If there existed a standard list of activities to do with an ex, talking about the past wasn’t one of the options. Especially if you had feelings for said ex.

Plus, you didn’t forget that there was something he had to tell you. It seemed like you were going to have to wait a little longer for that, and your anxiousness wasn’t pleased.

As you ambled to the center of the clearing, you focused more on the crunching sounds your boots made rather than your feelings. With a quick survey of the area, you surmised that it really was a pretty spot, the mountain range peeking behind the trees adding depth to the setting. Adjusting your outfit, you took a breath of courage before staring at the eye of the Polaroid.

Seokjin moved the camera from his face and called your name, roping your gaze to his concern. “Smile, okay?”

On instinct, your throat constricted. You couldn’t hide behind the lens that time. But smile you did, and you hoped Seokjin thought it genuine, silently pleading him to not notice the anguish lingering behind your crescent eyes.

The fire pit your friends constructed blazed bright as you both made it back to the campgrounds. Everyone occupied the surrounding logs and, judging from the soft pop pumping from a portable speaker, Jungkook must have commandeered music control.

Jimin turned when he heard your footsteps, his expression indiscernible as he shifted his gaze between you and Jin. Thankfully, he didn’t say anything, only turning back to Yoongi to continue their conversation.

Seokjin and you parted ways effortlessly: he slotted into the empty space next to Namjoon and you headed to your tent to stow your camera.

And for some reason, that easy departure was hard to swallow.

Your pitched space offered warmth upon entry, and you dumped yourself onto your sleeping bag without a word. A few quiet moments passed before you unzipped your backpack, the tiny action feeling so tedious, so difficult to achieve.

After you finally stored your equipment and closed your bag shut, you just… sat there. Contemplative.

Mentally, you were in a bad place. Your thoughts and emotions banged into each other, their war rendering you powerless - captive. Fidgeting with the plasticky fabric of your sleeping bag, you thought back to what happened after you two left the photo spot.

It was an uneventful walk back for the most part. The polaroids turned out nice, all thanks to the very rare and very expensive camera you borrowed. Seokjin claimed yours and handed you his, and faced with your sudden curiosity, he sheepishly offered, “You don’t have to keep it.”

You were more questioning of the fact that he stored yours in his jacket, but you didn’t want to broach that subject. It was beginning to scare you. Maybe it was the fact that he was acting strange, coupled with the other fact that he was hiding something from you.

Why were you suddenly afraid to confront him? You two were open with each other during your relationship. Were you also wanting to put this dreaded conversation off as long as possible, too?

If he was with someone else, though, would he still be keeping your picture?

It was too much to think about, so you tried to lock everything in a box and sit on it.

You saw the light of the campfire after a few minutes of walking through the woods - a handful of silent, crawling minutes. It was bugging you that Seokjin didn’t say anything on the way back. A quiet Jin was a Jin knee deep in thought, and not in good circumstance. In a moment of weakness, you almost offered out your hand to grab his, but you instead crammed it inside your coat pocket.

When you both rejoined your friends, it seemed so easy for you guys to separate, like you didn’t just go off and do something so intimate. Even though that wasn’t the word you wanted to use.

You resigned yourself to the big picture nonetheless: it wasn’t like what Taehyung and Rin did. Your best friend was insanely popular on social media with her carefully curated feed and relatable-yet-unachievable style. Taehyung had his own massive following for different reasons, and you couldn’t deny that he knew exactly what he was doing to gain the hearts of many. They were snapping photos for each other to show millions of anonymous beings across the world.

You and Seokjin just took photos for each other to have. No one else was going to see those.

Why did you feel like that was significant?

The edge of your sleeping bag began to fray under duress, so you plucked your body off the ground and slipped back outside. What you expected was the temperature dipping a couple degrees in nightfall. What you didn’t expect was Jimin waiting for you, puffy jacket and all, leaning against a tree.

When he saw you emerge from your tent, he straightened and regarded you with caution. “Everything okay?”

You adjusted the front of your coat before fishing a beanie out to cover your ears. “Yeah, why?”

“You were just in there for awhile,” Jimin explained, his eyes searching yours, “And you were with him for a long time.”

“I don’t like being interrogated, Park,” you sighed.

“I know, I just…” He mirrored you and huffed his own breath toward the ground. A quick glance had you noticing that his own beanie was knit as thick as the fog in your mind. “I just want to make sure.”

Jimin was whom you considered closest next to your best friend and formerly Seokjin. After your break up, Jimin regularly sent you texts to check on you, despite your constant assurance that you were okay. It got to a point where you phoned him and pleaded reprieve - to reach out only if he had something critical to say.

His broken reply? He only texted you because Seokjin wouldn’t.

You ended up crying after that call, and the tears annoyingly persisted a couple nights following.

He was also one of the only two people in the world that knew you loved Jin. Rin was the other, and that’s only because you let it slip during a girls’ night over cheap wine and period piece movies. Something about an early morning confession in a dewy meadow was enough to loosen your alcohol-mottled tongue.

After you ran your fingers over your head, you responded, “Can I ask you something?”

Your friend’s eyes roamed over your face. “Of course.”

“What’s he hiding from me?”

Jimin instantly clammed up at the question. His dancer frame assumed a rigid position, each limb locking, including his jaw. “It’s not my place to say,” he answered gravely, pulling anger from your center.

“Does everyone else know this secret except me?” You really couldn’t take it anymore, especially knowing that something you supposedly deserved to know was possibly public knowledge.

“Just the guys,” Jimin divulged, and you scoffed.

“I can’t believe this.” You made to walk away, in the opposite direction of the campfire. Into the woods again.

Jimin said your name like he just wanted you to understand already, halting you mid-stride. “I’ve been trying to get him to talk to you. Trust me, I have.”

“He’s a grown man, Park. His decisions aren’t your problem,” you whispered.

“But aren’t they yours?”

“Not anymore. We aren’t together right now, if you don’t recall.” You knew you were spitting bullshit, and Jimin did, too. If Seokjin wasn’t giving you problems, you wouldn’t have been hiding in your tent or literally and figuratively walking away from him. Guiltily, you turned back to face Jimin and give him his credit.

He was this way for everyone in your group: the glue that hung on and fought to keep people from breaking apart. Whenever a fight broke out between warring parties, Jimin was the middle man. Always.

Sighing, you relented, “I’m sorry I’m taking this out on you. I’m just so confused, and the longer he hides whatever he’s hiding from me, the more restless I’ll be.”

“Everyone is on your side in this,” Jimin replied. “He just needs to, I don’t know, woman up.”

A breath of laughter escaped you at the tweaked phrase, the tension coating your shoulders slowly sliding off in clumps. “Did you say ‘woman up?’”

“Men aren’t shit,” your friend explained, pointing a gloved finger to punctuate every syllable. “At least women get things done.”

“I would totally drink to that if I had a bottle in my hand, Jimin.”

“Ah, well that can be arranged!” The boy’s eyes crinkled as he spun on a heel. “Let’s go. Jungkook and Taehyung brought out the drinks awhile ago. I missed out on a few bottles already talking to you.”

“Oh, I feel so remorseful,” you cooed, your voice worthy of giving kids cavities. “Almost as if I cared.”

“Ass,” Jimin snapped, but he could only laugh. When you joined his side, he turned and whispered, “But seriously. If he doesn’t talk about it by the end of this trip, I’m giving him hell.”

The temperature dropped again at that moment, and the wind blowing through the pines cut straight into your bones. Your shoulders hunched on instinct and you blinked to get needed moisture. Was it going to snow? The skies above did look intimidating. Was it going to storm?

A sudden trepidation settled into your gut. “Did we check the weather,” you queried, shuffling through your brain to see if you monitored it yourself before the trip.

“Uh-umm, I did,” Jimin answered through chattering teeth, “But I didn’t see anything other than it being cold.”

You pulled out your phone and regretted doing so, your fingers freezing over instantly. You were lucky you all chose a location that was still in signal range - really, thanks went to Rin and Taehyung for incessantly demanding it every year.

Pulling up the weather app after a few tries, you cursed at the oncoming forecast. “Well, there’s more to it. Snow’s coming in,” you relayed to Jimin. “Let’s pack up and find a place to stay.”

The car ride to the nearest lodging felt immensely different than the ride to the campgrounds. Some people focused on defrosting, one person worried about the people in the front, and the two said people in the front weren’t talking at all.

It was you that broke the silence when you steadily gave directions, and Seokjin would repeat them like always. Selfishly, you wanted the car ride to keep going just so you could hear his voice. He wasn’t saying anything otherwise, and there wasn’t music playing for him to absentmindedly sing along to.

The first snowfall was light as your caravan entered the small town nearby, which relieved you. Tiny snowflakes clung onto the windows and you lost yourself in their geometric patterns. Lights from the shops and other stray cars reflected in the slick roads to create a symphony of color, and white patches already settled on trees that lined the main way.

Seokjin spotted the lodge first, and he rolled into a spot towards the entrance, Jungkook’s car slotting into the next space. Your driver rolled down his window and repeatedly pointed his finger down to signal for Yoongi to follow suit. “Let’s go in and make sure they have our rooms first,” he called out, and Jungkook leaned over his console to shout a hearty okay.

You hoisted yourself out of the car and waited for the boys to follow. Seokjin went to stand next to you, but instead of Jungkook popping out of the other car, it was Namjoon that emerged. You could only guess that the youngest slyly started a game to have the loser get out.

Your stomach turned when you realized it was most likely because no one wanted to be left alone with you and Seokjin.

Remorse burned your throat. This trip was supposed to be fun, but it just felt strained. Were you overthinking? Or was your churning gut correct in its assumption?

At the very least, you hoped everyone else was having a better time than you were.

It seemed that the man beside you had the same feeling that a challenge was pitched. “Rock-paper-scissors? Or nose goes?”

Namjoon just laughed at the ground as his face flushed. “Nose goes, and I put my finger on my mouth so, umm, that’s that.”

You chuckled while you three made your way to the door, both of them towering over you on either side. Seokjin opened the entrance for everyone and, when you stepped foot inside, you were hit with a wave of warmth mixed with an undercurrent of gingerbread. The entirety of the main entrance bathed in plaid or embroidered throws, and there was an obvious affinity for Christmas on display with the plethora of garlands, lights, and a towering Christmas tree in the front bay window.

Namjoon and Seokjin quickly got distracted by the toy train running through a snowy village setup. Adorable, but not helpful.

Alone at the front desk, you received confirmation that your group had four bookings, and you thanked the concierge while you gathered the keys.

The rooms weren’t next to each other. One of them sat on another floor, and the rest were separated but shared the same level.

A container of pamphlets caught your attention, so you grabbed one before strolling away. “Guys, let’s claim our rooms. After that, you can watch the train all you want,” you called out, tapping them both on the back with the thin brochure.

They swiveled their heads to your retreating form before following you out the door.

“No. We are not doing that again.”

“Come on, hyung, it’ll be fun!”

“I’m with Yoongi on this one. We could all end up in the same room.”

“But what if you get a room to yourself?”

“Why can’t we ever just pick like normal people? And Hoseok-hyung, you laugh but you have the worst luck out of all of us.”

“Excuse me! That’s only because you all psyche me out!”

“Let’s just pick something. My phone’s almost dead.”

You stood next to Rin while you two watched the boys decide how room assignments were determined. It was a sight to see: them crowding the small hallway, bags littered around their bulky shoes. You both were thankful they were courteous enough to let you two keep a room to yourselves. They even made sure yours wasn’t on the other floor, just so that you girls wouldn’t be alone.

They were going to pick random rooms one-by-one, not knowing which options the others picked until they opened a door. If you and your friend also had to choose, you were risking the possibility of being stuck with Seokjin, which was the last thing you wanted.

On a day where your friendship was actually normal, that wouldn’t have mattered one bit. But right then? The tension surrounding him would have been detrimental.

He had something to say; he wasn’t saying it. You were a sitting, fidgeting duck.

Jungkook whipped his phone out to search the internet for a random coin flip generator. “Here. Heads, we do it. Tails, we don’t.”

Yoongi just snickered in defeat and already started picking up his bag. “I call picking first.”

His intuition proved sharp as the generator pulled up Heads: they were going with the random room assignments. Taehyung kicked his head back with a sigh, and Jimin and Jungkook burst into laughter while the elders collectively groaned.

As Rin giggled at their misfortune, you sent a rueful smile Seokjin’s way out of habit. You were still friends, after all, and he seemed so distraught over the prospect of horrid results. His eyes locked onto yours and, for a brief moment, he offered a shy grin in return.

The fluttering in your chest was quickly shooed away.

It was while everyone relaxed around a public lounge area that Jungkook hurled an accusation, his eyes alight with the flames licking the nearby fireplace. “Hyung cheated.”

Seokjin immediately sat up in his plush chair and retorted, “Take that back! I did nothing of the sort. You all were just too lazy to take the stairs to the next floor.”

Taehyung shot him a side eye and shared his own eloquent opinion. “Seems sus.”

A whole new wave of bickering erupted, and you redirected your attention to the snow storm blustering outside tall windows.

You were thanking every deity above that you guys decided to leave in time. It would’ve been hell in the campsite during this weather, or even while squeezed into the cars.

Though the original plans were derailed, you were pretty happy with the current lodging situation. Who knew a small town would have a humongous lodge? It had to be assumed that this was the main business keeping the town running. Rin was absolutely drinking it in and stated she even wanted to bring her family there, her thoughtfulness curving your mouth upwards.

Another good thing that came out of this trip proved to be the room assignments that Jungkook ended up loathing. They had you clutching your sides when all was said and done.

Four of the boys managed to pick the same room, and Hoseok and Yoongi snagged a room to themselves. These results resulted in one Kim Seokjin speeding up and down the hallway, wholeheartedly shouting with glee. Yoongi almost crumpled to the ground in relief at the end, and Hoseok fell over in laughter when he entered the full room. You could feel the desperation in Namjoon’s muffled voice as he begged Seokjin to let him change rooms. The only reply he received was an ominous “If you behave.”

“Don’t blame us,” Yoongi laughed out, both hands lightly gripping the arms of the rocking chair he chose. “This is what you young people get for trying to be cute.” His relief from only having to bunk with one other person left him chipper, you noticed. To his credit, it was amusing that the youngest four ended up in the same room.

“Okay, gramps,” Jungkook snapped, earning a laugh from Jimin on the seat next to him. “But she definitely gave hyung clues!”

You whipped your head around to shoot a confused look toward your accuser. “Me?”

Multiple eyes darted between you two like pinballs, and you didn’t have time to brace for his next words,

“You know you won’t see him again after this trip, so you—”

“—Kook!”

All oxygen abandoned you as Jimin rushed to shut the younger man’s mouth, practically slapping his face. Eyes popped out of his head as Jungkook paled in realization.

The rest of the boys bore glares into the youngest one’s countenance, but Seokjin turned directly towards you with concern.

What just happened? Your fingers gripped the varnished wood of your chair as you slowly locked eyes with your ex, and your heart dropped like a stone when he shifted his gaze to the floor.

What the fuck was happening? Your brain was going haywire. What did Jungkook mean? You wouldn’t see Seokjin after this trip? The man that you couldn’t wait to see on the last Friday of every November? That was bogus. He was joking. It was a joke, right? One more weekend before Seokjin was gone from your life forever? Impossible. Ludicrous.

Why wasn’t anyone saying anything?

Beside you, Rin clutched one of your tense fists in her soft palms. Addressing the group, her sharp tone demanded an answer when she asked, “What the hell is going on?”

The silence that followed was palpable. Not even the pleasant music drifting through the lodge was enough to damper the tension.

“I think,” Yoongi finally murmured, his words ice, “This is our cue to leave.”

“No need,” your friend snipped, “We’ll go.” She whispered your name before softly tugging you to vacate your seat.

When you pried yourself from the cushion, it took a moment for you to control your legs to actually move. You knew all the guys were watching you, but you were too embarrassed to acknowledge them, too upset to look any of them in the eye.

Rin led you away from the lounge, making sure you were heading toward the nearest staircase before spinning on her heel. “To the unfortunate soul that gets to explain this to me,” she bit, clutching everyone’s attention in her underlying threat, “Text me where to meet you in ten minutes.”

Both you and Rin occupied the carpet, backs against the cookie cutter sofa that existed in each room.

You two pushed the furniture around so that the couch faced the windows instead of the plain TV, and you surprised your friend by dumping yourself onto the ground instead of the cushions. Rin didn’t question you, though. She only followed suit.

The curtains were shoved to the side to reveal the relentless storm, and you watched the swirls and streaks of white until your head fell onto Rin’s shoulder.

“I should’ve been paying attention to you,” she murmured, “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, the motion feeling awkward in its tilt. “No, no. You’ve been having a fun time, so I’m happy I didn’t ruin that.” Your laugh was dry. “Until now, at least.”

Rin lowered her shoulder so that you rested more comfortably. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m going through a breakup again.”

Fuck. You didn’t realize until the words left your lips that it’s how you really felt.

It had been a few years since you guys ended things. Throughout that whole time, you didn’t feel awkward one bit.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. The “date” that Seokjin brought to the Christmas party last year made you want to tear your hair out. But, that was because she was obviously after his finances and that was the year you realized you loved him.

The conversation you had with Seokjin turned sour, but you really wanted him to see the big picture. You could still recall that night with clarity, the snow falling much lighter than what you currently witnessed outside.

“Seokjin, do you honestly think she likes you?” The red dress you wore was so vibrant that it glinted off the dinnerware spread across the decadent table nearby.

When you pulled your ex aside that night, the only quiet place you could find was the dining room, long abandoned once everyone got their seconds. Up until this point, it was obvious Seokjin wasn’t understanding you. You tried to tell him how you saw it, and he would just brush things aside.

“You sound like you care more than I do,” he accused, his eyes looking everywhere but your face.

Before you responded, you scoffed. “I’m your friend. Of course I’m going to care.”

You remember the strong emotions you suppressed that night. You couldn’t let more things slip than necessary. Yes, you could show him you cared. Yes, you could show him he needed someone else. Just as long as you didn’t give too much of your own feelings for him away. “You deserve someone that at least likes you, for you.”

Seokjin finally stared back at your stormy features, his eyes filled with something unsaid. You sucked in a breath. What else would he say? You liked him for everything he was, but that relationship didn’t pan out. Obviously. You would’ve been going to this Christmas party together if you still dated.

Maybe you shouldn’t have been having that conversation - it was already hard enough for you to say you were his friend. You wanted to be more than that. Again.

“I know she doesn’t like me,” he finally admitted, running a hand through his bangs. The urge to caress his ever soft strands filled you with grief.

You really did like his hair, and it looked even better when coupled with his Nutcracker-esque attire.

“Then why…” You struggled to find a reason why they were even there together. It was a Christmas party with your friends. Why would he bring someone that he didn’t like?

“She’s interested in Namjoon.” Seokjin’s eyes quickly turned into crescents when he witnessed your expression, and his full lips pursed to contain his laughter. “I was trying to get her off me the whole night, but she was trying harder than she needed to to make him jealous. I’m irresistible, you know.”

“Irritable is more like it,” you growled, playfully shoving him aside. “Ass! I was just trying to protect you and you knew this whole time!”

“It’s nice to know you’re looking out for me!” The man beamed as he made his way out of the dining room.

“Yeah, well,” you whispered, tensing slightly when he stopped. “They have to be perfect. It’s what you deserve.” And you really did mean that.

Seokjin’s smile faltered, and you shot him a half-smile before exiting the room yourself.

That was the last time you guys had an argument, if you could even call it that. The rest of the moments you had with him were completely fine. You wondered if Seokjin could see through you during that conversation. He was perceptive, sure, but you may have gotten away with looking like just a good friend.

It was just worrisome since you couldn’t control your emotions that night. You only got to see him in person during these November trips and Christmas parties when you went home, after all. Seeing him again after realizing you loved him ignited something within you, and it took the whole night to put that fire out.

This looming news just felt way too heavy to handle. Was it because you reached where the sidewalk ended? You weren’t going to see his face in person or hear his laugh out loud. There wasn’t going to be off-the-cuff, awful dad jokes thrown your way every end of November.

A nagging idea, far in the depths of your mind, kept tapping your shoulder. But you brushed it off with a scowl.

Even if you acknowledged the concept, there was no way Seokjin felt the same about you. Neither one of you said you loved each other throughout the time you were dating. Were there times you thought you did? Admittedly, yes. Did you ever think about telling him? Another yes. But he never hinted that he felt the same, so it would’ve been awkward for you if it turned out he didn’t. The absence of a confession kept you from revealing yours. So of course even now, you couldn’t tell him. Especially since he was apparently leaving.

Rin didn’t speak for awhile, but you knew she wasn’t the best at comforting people. She was number one at standing up for you and protecting you, but when it came to the softer parts of consoling, she did flounder. Which was endearing and calming in itself.

“How can I help,” she simply offered, and you nuzzled further into her neck. She always smelled so nice, your guardian Rin.

The adrenaline from Jungkook’s bombshell, your swift exit, and the constant stream of thoughts started to wane. Exhaustion slowly took its place like honey sliding into a jar. Softly, your eyelids drooped and you whispered, “This room is a castle, so be my big bad dragon and don’t let anyone in.”

The last sound you heard before falling asleep was a tinkling laugh followed by a small “As you wish, princess.”

When you regained consciousness, you discovered that you were strewn across one of the beds instead of the ground. You couldn’t even estimate how much time passed while you were out, but the storm outside was still thrashing and the only light in the room was the emergency one by the door.

You groggily propped up weary limbs in search of your phone, eventually swiping it from the nightstand. Still half-asleep, you barely registered the pain meds and glass of water sitting on that same table, their dark silhouettes waiting patiently.

Bright pixels mocked your drool-covered chin. Scrunching your face instinctively, you scrolled through your notifications while blinking sleep from your lashes. You received multiple texts, but you didn’t want to open the threads completely, so you opted to check them from the Home screen.

Jiminie [7:20pm]: Fuck, I’m sorry that happened. Please be okay. Love you.

Tae [7:21pm]: free hugs whenever you need. you know the drill.

Rin-Rin [7:36pm]: I know you said not to let anyone in but I literally couldn’t carry you to the bed. Forgive me!

Yoongi [7:37pm]: He’s in his room. I kept telling him to tell you. I know it’s shit to find out this way so if he doesn’t explain things to you, I will.

Hobi [7:39pm]: we’re here for u love!! let me know if u need anything. there’s a small concession stand downstairs so if u need smth i can run it up!!

Jiminie [7:40pm]: Kook is in bad shape. He swore he thought hyung told you already. Don’t worry tho. I’m not letting him off easy.

Rin-Rin [7:43pm]: Hey, love. Just spoke to Seokjin. I think you need to talk to him yourself, but only if you feel up for it.

Joonie [7:45pm]: I gave Rin a bottle of pain meds we had in our room

Joonie [7:45pm]: Go ahead and take some when you wake up

Joonie [7:45pm]: We can count this as an emergency

Jiminie [8:21pm]: Let me know if you’re okay, okay?

Kook [8:33pm]: I’m so sorry

Rin-Rin [8:48pm]: Grabbing us some snacks from downstairs, I’ll brb.

Your battered heart sank even more when you noticed a distinct absence amongst the names. Seokjin didn’t send you a single message.

What had gotten into him? Did he still not want to talk to you despite you knowing his secret? You clicked your phone shut without opening any of the messages and sunk into the pillows. It was 8:49pm, so you had barely missed Rin’s departure. Her exit was probably what woke you.

Unwittingly, you found your device in front of your baggy eyes again, berating yourself for hovering over Seokjin’s thread. The last text he sent stared back at you in a mocking set of pixels.

Kim JokeJin [Thursday, 9:23pm]: Let’s make this one the best one!

With the previous context, this was just a regular message about the yearly trip. With the right context, these words tied your throat in a knot.

You were sure you loved him, but what you were feeling now was even stronger. If you were honest with yourself, you would say that this is what yearning truly felt like, what something deeper than love felt like.

But you were a fool and a liar, so you convinced yourself it was only because you wouldn’t see him again.

As soon as you were about to give up and lock your phone, the thread updated with a new text from Seokjin, and you stilled.

Kim JokeJin [8:51pm]: You’re probably still asleep, so I don’t want to wake you.

You immediately clicked on his message, your anxiousness protected by the absence of Read receipts. The typing bubble kept popping in and out of the screen and, with bated breath, you waited to see if a second text slid into the thread. A hard exhale whooshed from your throat when the second message came through.

Kim JokeJin [8:53pm]: But I owe you an explanation so come up when you can.

Fingers locked your phone in an instant when the door creaked on its hinges. Rin entered with an armful of chips and various candy bars, and as you started to get up, she tutted.

“Sit down, lady.” Packages crinkled as she dumped them onto your covered legs in a processed, sweet and salty heap. “Did you take the medicine?”

You shook your head, very sure that you looked like a cranky Troll doll.

“Go ahead and eat something really quick so the medicine will work. When you’re awake enough…” Rin’s voice trailed off, but you filled in the blanks yourself. Go talk to him was what she wanted to say.

“Can’t you just tell me what he said?” You were hopeful that Rin would save you the pain of confronting Seokjin yourself. In reality, she denied your request.

“Not this time,” she murmured, “This is something that needs to come from him.”

You figured as much, but it didn’t hurt to try getting out of it. It was a conversation that you both wanted and dreaded to have. Under your goosebumps, your bones trembled.

If you were frightened by the mere gist of it, how were you going to react to the real thing?

The reality was that you needed the closure Seokjin was offering. You didn’t think this vacation - or your friendship, for that matter - could regain normalcy until you had this talk. “Sorry I ruined this trip,” you whispered, playing with a corner of the closest bag of chips.

“I’m sorry, is your name ‘Jungkook?’” Rin laughed. “I’m kidding. It’s not ruined. At the very least, it’s salvageable. Maybe.”

“You should be a weather girl with these confident forecasts,” you joked, coaxing a laugh from your friend. You offered a small smile in return, but your heart wasn’t in it. She kinda forgot that this is the last trip you guys would have with Seokjin. If anything, it was doomed from the start.

Little striations ran across the door greeting you, shallow cuts skirting up and down the frame. You roved your eyes over the rough texture; contemplative, lost in the mahogany brown expanse.

If only you were a sturdy tree. You wouldn’t have to worry about any hard conversations in life. All you would’ve had to worry about was possibly becoming a rickety chair for a spoiled brat, or one of Namjoon’s tables that he would eventually damage and lament over.

With a breath, you finally knocked.

It didn’t take long for Seokjin’s freshly showered form to answer, and when you saw him dressed down to a plain white shirt and black pants, you quickly shifted your eyes to the floor. Didn’t he know that outfit was your favorite? Your weakness?

“Hey,” you simply said. “I’m awake now.”

He nodded and let you in, the door closing with a soft click. When you crossed the room, you stopped in front of the couch, anticipation already caking onto your clothes. There wasn’t much to say on your end, you figured, so Seokjin had to take the lead.

Instead of launching into topic, he walked towards you and grabbed a bottle from his nightstand. “Do you want some water?”

You could only stare at the plastic in question. “Did I come here for water, Seokjin?”

There was a heavy pause before the man planted his offering on the nightstand. “No.” Sitting on the longer side of his bed, he clasped his hands together, blank eyes glued to the floor. “Jungkook is right. I won’t be able to go on these trips anymore.”

“Why?”

“I, umm,” Seokjin answered, his words fumbling, “I kinda got into Harvard Medical School.”

“What?” Your anxiousness was forgotten as you gawked at him. That was what he was holding back from you? All this time? That amazing, fantastic, crazy news? Without thinking, you bounded toward him and crushed him in a hug, careful to not push him back onto the bed. “Seokjin! This is what you couldn’t tell me?”

His arms remained at his sides. When he responded, his explanation bounced onto your shoulder, “I literally won’t have a life once I start. None of you will be able to see this face, isn’t that enough to be sad about?”

Another moment of weakness came over you, and instead of overcoming it, you gave in. Your arms tightened around him and you whispered, “No, I’m so happy for you. You’ve worked so hard…”

There were bags under his eyes for a reason. You knew the nights he got three hours of sleep far outweighed the nights he got more than that. The reason you two didn’t get to see each other was his relentless studying and discipline, and you didn’t want him to have to choose between you and a future career. You both were way too young for those rash decisions.

It was with this memory that you were reminded of why you broke up: you wanted him to focus on his goals and you would do the same. “Really, I’m so proud of you.”

Why you hadn’t let go of him at that point was a mystery to you, but you couldn’t seem to stop. The feel of his body against yours consumed you, held you captive even if his arms didn’t.

But after a moment, you felt strong limbs wrap around your sides and emotion wrap around your throat.

You don’t remember the last time you two truly embraced. It was a given that the last time you did, you were both completely different people. Both so young. Both so naive.

“Thank you,” Seokjin breathed, his head finally a beautiful burden on your shoulder, “But there’s more.”

Tension froze your veins, taking the color from your complexion. Of course there was more. There was no way that was the big reveal, even though it was a monster in itself. “Oh,” was all you managed to squeak out.

Seokjin’s arms gently pushed your body away so that he could look you in the eyes. You already missed his stronghold, but you listened as he spoke. “My parents want me to go back home. To Korea.”

You blinked. “Even though you got into Harvard?”

“No, no, after that,” Seokjin expressed with a level of confidence only he could achieve. Like it was inconceivable that he wouldn’t get his doctorate. He then searched your face, the pause holding weight. “So, I don’t know if I’ll see you guys again.”

The wind howled outside and you shivered as if you were standing out there in the cold. There was so much that you wanted to say, but all the thoughts you had in your head melded together into sludge. Words struggled to leave your mouth. Nothing processed correctly in your brain.

Seokjin wasn’t joking - not this time. He really was going to be swamped in work and work and more work. Even the holidays were going to be crammed, and you were sure he wanted to use those rare rest periods solely to recharge.

Yes, he would still be able to text and call everyone, but that would be the extent of communication. He wasn’t big on social media. Even if he was, there would certainly be a dip in his activity now.

Just like you felt earlier, you really did feel like you were going through a breakup again. Only this time, the last remains of your relationship were at stake.

You didn’t want that.

“We’d still be friends,” you weakly offered, wondering if you were just saying that to convince yourself.

An empty chuckle startled you, and when you looked at Jin, he directed an empty gaze toward his nightstand’s lamp. “Yeah… We’d still be friends,” he repeated, and the way he said that made your shoulders sag. It was almost as if he didn’t believe you.

“But Seokjin… You should be so happy. I mean, you’re incredible,” you whispered, a heavy feeling weighing down your chest.

“What if I’m not?”

You sucked in a breath, suddenly not knowing what to do. Was he saying that hypothetically? No. There wouldn’t be a reason for him to ask if he truly was.

How were you supposed to respond to that? Being a doctor was his goal - you were sure of it. If he got accepted into Harvard of all places, then his future glimmered as bright as his charm. “What do you mean,” was what you decided to say. Because you needed more from him than that.

“You said I should be happy. What if I’m not?”

“This is what you’ve been working towards your whole life!” It didn’t make any sense. None of this was making any sense. Who wasn’t happy that they got accepted to one of the most prestigious medical programs in the world? “You did everything you could, and now you have something to show for it! We even broke up over this. And that’s fine,” you quickly added at the end. You didn’t want Seokjin to feel bad for that at all.

“What I’m trying to say is,” you continued, wanting to get every logical word out before more irrational ones escaped. “You’ve gotten everything you wanted. You deserve to be happy.”

You could feel the doors of your heart scraping shut. Even if you wanted to try to be with him again, you would have to give up on that dream. There was no way it was going to work if it didn’t pan out last time.

Fists clenched, you hated how your heart gravitated towards Seokjin on this damn trip, loathed how your brain produced its own highlight reel. Somehow, they both knew this was the end before you did.

“I don’t have everything I want, but you’re right. I’ll be happy.” He sounded bitter. Why did he sound so bitter?

“What more could you want,” you blurted, the question materializing between the two of you in bold letters. You were just getting frustrated at this point.

This was his dream. The ultimate goal. The one thing he wanted out of life.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“Well, it’s none of your concern.”

“I don’t care if it is or not.”

“You really want to know?” Seokjin shot off the bed, immediately towering over your small stature. As your eyes reached his face, you watched as his lips twisted, your shocked features taking in his frustration. “It’s… It’s love, okay? That might sound weird to you, but I’ve realized that all of this is pointless without it. That’s what I’m missing. I want to love again.” He shoved a hand through his hair, his forehead slightly wrinkling under duress.

The first thing that threw you off was the mere mention of the word. That was so brave of him to even bring it up. With you, of all people: someone he’s dated before. It must have taken so much courage for him to admit that.

But there was another word in there that stood out amongst all the others.

Again. He said again. Did he love someone before? He couldn’t have been referring to what you guys had. You never once said those words to each other while you dated. So who was he thinking of? And why did it hurt to know that he had loved before and it wasn’t you?

“I didn’t know you wanted that,” you replied, your voice painfully small. “But I don’t think it’s weird.”

You wanted nothing more than to just confess to him already, but you had no clue what he would say if he didn’t want something with you. The moment escaped like a thief in the night.

“Ah, well, if you knew the whole story,” Seokjin sighed, his breath shaky, “You would definitely think it’s stupid.”

“Why did it end the first time?” You wanted to get to the bottom of it. Maybe through his explanation, you could find something salvageable. You cared about him - so damn much. Seeing him in a state of utter helplessness seized your heart and gripped it tight. “With the one you… you loved. What happened?”

Seokjin’s indiscernible stare pierced through your soul, his silence screaming that he didn’t want to talk about it.

And you understood his reluctance. The list of activities to do with an ex didn’t include this as an option, either.

You felt the steely aftertaste of guilt on your tongue. Maybe he wanted you to just leave him alone already. Besides, you already pushed him to tell a multitude of truths that night. Asking him about a past love life was most likely crossing the line. “I’m sorry,” you apologized, uprooting yourself from your spot to leave. “You don’t have to tell me. I’ll leave you alone.”

You made it three steps before Seokjin responded, “She decided to end it.”

A vice clamped your chest. You stood in your new spot closer to the door, eyes boring into the floor. “Even though you were in love?”

That must have been awful. If you loved him when you two broke it off, it would have absolutely hurt. Very much like what was happening to you now, in fact. Because fuck, were you absolutely disintegrating like a paper on fire.

“I don’t think she loved me,” Seokjin disclosed, his words tightening the clasp around your lungs. “But I loved her.”

“I’m so sorry, Seokjin.” Tears brimmed across your eyes, but you didn’t want him to see you break. You thrummed with so many emotions in that moment, swept by the current of his words, his heavy tribulations.

He loved someone in the past. You loved him in the present. If only you both harbored a love for each other in at least one point in your lives.

“That must have been hard.”

“It wasn’t, for the most part.” His brittle words crumbled as they appeared. “I saw it coming.”

You chewed on your lip. Seokjin’s confessions were so full of pain - the amount of love he had for this person was obvious. Looking back on your relationship, you remember your split being mutual. It was mutual, right? There weren't any feelings involved. Whichever other situation Seokjin was referring to had to be sometime after you.

Maybe it was someone during his college days. But wouldn’t you have at least heard about them through the friend circle? Their name must have just left your mind. You knew Seokjin flirted a lot but he needed to be serious to really start a relationship. This one just sounded tragic.

“I don’t know what to say,” you admitted sincerely, your chest about ready to collapse, “Other than don’t give up. You can do it. Love again.” The joints in your knees threatened to give out. Telling the one you loved that he could find someone again was too much. Too, too much.

“Ah, yeah. Well.” Seokjin turned away from you in a shrug. Even the back of his profile was perfect. “Thanks for being a good, uh, friend.”

Friend. Could you teleport to your room and stay there? You couldn’t be the one to give him what he wanted, especially since he was about to be gone for a very long time. No matter how much you wanted to. Oh, how you wanted to.

You swung around to face the door once again. Critical words almost freed themselves from your lips, but you held them back, swallowed them down. “I’ll always be your friend.”

Head storming, you commended yourself for keeping your voice level. The tears were able to recede - which relieved you, since you wanted to make it through the rest of the conversation with dry eyes. With one tiny head shake, you whispered, “Let’s get some sleep, okay? I don’t want us to ruin the rest of this trip. Like you said before, we have to make it the best one.”

Seokjin got up and made his way over to you, and you turned around with a fresh face once you knew he was close enough. The smile he wore was manufactured, but you didn’t want to pry. Instead, you repeated your advice as you both approached his door. Because you wanted him to understand. “Seriously. Don’t give up, you hear me?”

“Don’t give up,” he echoed as he pulled on the handle, like you were just giving him directions. He stilled for a moment in deep concentration before looking your way. Dark eyes bore into yours and you could almost hear them speak, but he gave one final nod and vowed, “Okay.”

Little striations met you again when you gave Seokjin’s closed room one last look, and you swore they regarded you with pity. Finally breaking, you let your tears fall the whole way back to your floor, wishing to be made into a sturdy tree in your next life so you never had to feel that way again.

The next morning found all nine friends situated in various places around Seokjin’s room. You thought it amusing that the boys never really settled for normal seats, always choosing a table or windowsill perch instead. As an avid fan of the floor yourself, apparently, you were once again plopped on the ground in front of the sofa. Only this time, you weren’t drowning in the depths of your past.

“Looks like the snow piled up high last night, so we might not be able to use the cars,” Namjoon observed after his long fingers created a tiny crack in the curtains. His argyle sweater blended in with the burgundy fabric and the sight put a small smile on your face.

The action surprised you since you spent the whole night swathed in a blanket of regret, your arms caging your ribs in an attempt to stopper your bleeding heart. If only you were so bold as to allow a confession to fall from your lips. Three words to solve two peoples’ problems.

But the risk involved was too high. The hurt following an unrequited love confession would haunt you through every sunrise and sunset.

Jungkook’s exasperated voice sliced through your thoughts. “What are we gonna do then?” You glanced at him right as he threw himself onto Seokjin’s bed, bouncing the other two occupants like buoys amongst waves.

“What we can do: stay in,” Yoongi responded while repositioning himself against the headboard.

Taehyung’s sigh mingled with Rin’s tsking noise, Jungkook’s deeper groan almost in harmony with the both of them. Their melancholic concerto almost pulled a laugh out of you, but the next suggestion came from Hoseok, “I brought some board games we could play. Cards, too.”

Seokjin quickly shot him a look. “You don’t play board games. Or games. Or cards. Actually, what do you do?”

“I look after all of you.” Hoseok’s head always bobbed when he spoke to accentuate his points. “Hence why I brought board games and cards just in case!”

You couldn’t refute the man’s claims, either. Hoseok always made sure everyone packed what they needed before trips but brought extra stuff in the event that the group needed something else. Helping was just part of his nature. Yesterday was one example. Rin got the snacks last night, but you were sure he would have woken up at any point in time to be your comfort food delivery man. If being a leader were a sport, Hoseok would be the dark horse that you never saw coming until they finished first. Then you couldn’t deny their talent and skill.

Taehyung didn’t let the dark horse live, though. “Thanks, hyung. Did you pack a snowblower, too?”

Rin’s laugh could always be heard amongst your friends, but not because she was a girl. Hers was just so distinct and heartwarming, like a cozy throw or the thought of cookies in the oven. It was only slightly better than Jimin’s.

Speaking of which: Jimin was eerily quiet throughout the whole meeting, his gaze lingering on you more than once. You noticed it ever since you burst into Seokjin’s room and lauded the man’s scholastic advancement. Which couldn’t be helped. No matter how painful last night’s conversation was, you still wanted him to know how proud you were. After all, a person could be sporting a dagger through their heart but still have love to give.

You didn’t know why Jimin was acting strange. The big secret was unveiled but you would come to terms with it. Was he afraid of how you would be feeling? Or was he just sympathizing with you because he assumed you weren’t exactly fine? Talking to him later to iron things out was going to be essential. The multiple glances he threw your way proved too much.

“I have a pamphlet we can look through,” you responded, waving it in the air like a white flag. The decision to bring it just in case proved to be the right one, even if Rin threw a small fit from having to fumble through her bag for the room key again. Warmth from the thick hoodie swallowing both your body and your bent legs validated the first time you went back into your room.

Rin stuck her tongue out at you but smiled right after in her best Sour Patch Kid impression. Cute. You breathily laughed before unfolding the flimsy paper. Shifting your eyes along the colorful pages, you started listing out the lodge activities. “Okay, so we have… Kayaking: no. Lake yoga: no. Mountain biking: no…”

Even though the lodge boasted a huge amount of things to do, the majority of them required there to not be four billion inches of snow outside. Only a few remained, and majority rules determined ski slopes the winner.

The only issue with the slopes was that they only allowed groups of three at a time. To remedy this, groups were formed and a rotation was set based on a heated tournament of rock-paper-scissors. And while Hoseok didn’t play board games, cards, or even video games, he seemed to be a pro at that.

He picked Seokjin and Yoongi for his group, and they were going out first, to the eldest’s horror. You saw his anxiousness coming from miles out - tackling snow with one board was much more up his alley than tackling it with two.

Next, Jungkook chose Namjoon and Jimin since he wanted to somehow “win” on the slopes. They gave him much grief for that.

And that left you with Rin and Taehyung, but they wanted to check out the spa area first, so your group was going to catch up later.

Which wasn’t ideal for you. You wanted to watch Seokjin ski. Or really, you just wanted to see him as much as possible before the trip ended. Seok in his presence, like he said. Maybe being pruny in this case was a beautiful thing.

Room Service knocking on the door interrupted your thoughts, and Jimin let them in to serve the breakfast Seokjin ordered for everyone prior. While the dishes were distributed, the group was already firing bets and insults and digs at each other as if a clear winner would emerge outside. And you welcomed every bit of their energy. Chewing on food while basking in everyone’s competitive nature was enough of a distraction from your woes. At least, until you caught Jimin deep in thought again.

The spa was decent, so you three ended up staying for almost an hour. Both the sauna and facial massage served to ease the thick layer of tenseness under your skin. If only you could transport yourself into a cloud of steam every time you thought about Seokjin. Maybe that would’ve helped with the anxiousness and guilt you felt every time you thought about confessing.

And you were grateful for Taehyung tagging along because he really did offer free hugs often. Even while Rin scanned over the receipt for everything you guys did, the man slung a lean arm around your shoulders.

His voice glided over your hair when he leaned in to ask, “How did it go last night?”

You sighed before responding, debating on how to answer him. You decided to take the easy route. “Good. Better than I expected. I just can’t believe it took him that long to tell me! I was so worried this whole time.”

Taehyung squeezed you gently. “Finally. We kept telling him to just admit it already.”

Rin was in the middle of paying when you smiled. Her hair gleamed in the incandescents, and you reached out to touch it as you admitted, “It’s just weird that he wanted to hide that from me.”

“Well, you’re his ex, so he thought it would’ve been awkward.”

A laugh shot out of you, and Taehyung gave you a look. “Seokjin’s so strange. He knows I’ve been rooting for him this whole time. I mean, Harvard? That’s incredible.”

Normally, friends would converse about achievements and be sincerely happy about them. But something else happened in that moment that set alarm bells off in your head. Whether it was Rin becoming a block of ice in front of you, or Taehyung slowly peeling his arm off of your shoulders, you suddenly got a feeling that something wasn’t right.

When Rin spun around to face you, the expression painted on her face reminded you of those Renaissance pieces you saw during one museum date with your ex. Her eyebrows artfully scrunched; her full lips twisted. Was she on the side of the angels, battling demons? Going to war?

No, she was just trying to clarify something. “He didn’t say anything else?”

You gulped. “I mean, yeah?”

“What did he say?” Taehyung furrowed his dark brows, his own face a work of art in itself.

“That his parents are making him move back to Korea when he’s done with his doctorate,” you revealed, suspicious of the both of them and Seokjin now. You kept your tone level to hide any emotions under the surface. “Why, is there more?”

Once again, you were swept under the wave of confusion. The waters there were dark and cold, and you felt like you couldn’t swim to safety this time. It was as if cotton clogged your ears and a thin film coated your vision. You didn’t even register Taehyung furiously typing on his phone while Rin led you all out of the spa’s reception area.

“Do you want there to be more,” was all she offered before sitting you down on an earthly toned loveseat. The fluffy rug under your shoes snagged most of your attention.

“I don’t know how to answer that, but I guess not,” you finally grunted, feeling angrier and angrier from being left in the dark again. Comparable to a disease, this dangerous feeling was taking over you, trickling into your veins drop by black drop. “Honestly, I kinda just want to go back to the room until we meet for dinner. Whatever you guys are hiding is starting to piss me off.”

“Let’s go,” Rin agreed, urging you to get up and follow her to the room. But you shook her off.

“I’ll go by myself.” Buzzing with anger, you shuffled through your bag to grip your key. “Just let me be alone for a bit.”

Taehyung looked absolutely livid, but he nodded along with Rin. You didn’t watch the two of them share a knowing glance as you drug your crumpling form to the stairs, hoping pieces of you didn’t crumble off before you reached your temporary bed.

From the moment your tired bones hit your comforter, time traveled at a strange pace. You didn’t know how long you spent lying prone on the sheets, your head lolled towards the window. Watching the light snowfall outside did nothing to bring you out of your dark space.

Being left out, confused, and feeling betrayed left you mentally drained. How long were you going to feel like this? Like you were just going to keep being lied to? Maybe you weren’t outwardly lied to, but omitting something was still considered a lie. The truth was still held captive and you couldn’t even pay it a visit.

Rin and Taehyung reacted strongly to what you said. That had to mean whatever else Seokjin was supposed to say to you was big. You weren’t stupid. At least, that’s what you concluded.

But what if you were this time?

You loathed this feeling. You hated being looked at with pity. Even Rin knew what was left unsaid this time, so you were truly alone in the dark.

A dark monster within you rose to life, and you ripped yourself from the sheets. Snatching your coat from the couch, you jerked your arms inside, striding toward your door with purpose. A ball of fury, you were determined to march up the slopes and confront Seokjin. Everything was getting ridiculous.

Tugging the door open, you flinched at the figure waiting on the other side. A brief moment of silence and bewilderment and worry washed over you, quelling a small part of your harbored anger. “What happened to you?”

Seokjin stood in front of you wrapped in his puffy coat, hair in disarray and a small gash on his cheek. His nose was red with the cold and a small cut, and his eyes looked as if he had been holding back tears. Tears? Was he crying? Even now, it seemed like a few were threatening to fall as his gaze lowered. A ghost of a voice wafted from his mouth as he replied, “Jimin.”

You winced. Remembering the glances the younger man gave you this morning, you should have seen a conflict brewing. Your friend wasn’t lying when he said he’d give Seokjin hell. Something must have broken out when they were on the slopes, or anytime you weren’t there with them. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

If you didn’t have that revelation with Rin and Taehyung, you would have been absolutely thrown by Seokjin’s appearance and the cause of it. But it seemed that both groups found out what he told you last night and neither were pleased with the result. What that result was, you couldn’t determine yet. But based on your own categories, “I got into Harvard” and “I’m moving back to Korea” fit in the Should Know box. The Deserved to Know box was still accepting applications.

“Come in.” Your fury had to simmer on a proverbial stove for the time being. “I have a first aid kit in my bag.”

You hurried him into the room before making a beeline for your duffle. The adrenaline built while you were fired up was still thrumming your bones like guitar strings. Nothing more was said as your bag crinkled with your rummaging, even though you wanted to just wring answers from his neck already.

But you couldn’t. You needed a moment to collect your thoughts, both the past woes you were fighting and your current worries.

As Jin awkwardly stood in front of your bed, you kept pondering. What the hell happened out there? How did it end up in a physical altercation? Did Jin fight back? It was already obvious Jimin initiated it, but you wondered if he sported any bruises, too. Not from Seokjin, though. Because you couldn’t ever see him throwing a punch. You were more curious about someone like Yoongi. The elder one was incredibly protective of Jin.

When you found the kit, you spun around to start tending to your ex’s face. “Bed,” you ordered, pointing towards yours with the first aid box. Your tone was harsh, but you weren’t holding it back.

The man was silent as he delicately sat on the comforter, and you instantly noticed how he refused to look at you still.

No matter. Treating his cuts was a priority, but that didn’t mean you weren’t going to force him into confrontation right after. Seokjin wasn’t going to have a choice.

Perching yourself next to him, you propped one leg up to steady yourself, clicking open the small kit next to you. It wasn’t as fancy as the one he carried along, but it housed the basics. Fetching some antiseptic and cotton first, you told him to turn towards you so that you could start.

And despite your anger, your exasperation, your frustration, the hands you lifted to Seokjin’s face were nothing but calm.

Throughout the time you dusted his cuts, you kept your gaze on his cheek, his mouth, his nose. A wall erected around you that you refused to take down. After all of the hurt Seokjin had caused, the turmoil he had put you through, it was pertinent you wouldn’t let him in. You had your soldiers’ arrows at the ready, directed right at his wounded face.

But if you so much as flitted your gaze toward his eyes, your walls would crumble to dust. Your gates would slam open in surrender.

Because having him this close to you after all this time was like coming home. And you harbored that feeling ever since the scent of his cologne consumed you. Your face hovered inches from his, your fingers gently pressing his features. All of the nights you yearned to be this close were so lonely and cold, and his warmth was tugging your heart by multiple strings.

His looming absence was hitting you deeply then. If you gave in only to lose him again, the pain would surely hollow out your soul until you were a mere shell of yourself. You wanted nothing more than to sink into the mattress and slip down into the soil underneath the lodge.

Suddenly, a hand cradled your cheek, and you shook on impact. Without thinking, you locked eyes with Jin, and it was then that you realized he was wiping hot tears from your face.

“If I’m the reason for these,” he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Something strangled escaped you, and you finally caved. “You are,” you exhaled, unable to stop the tears from falling. “You really are.”

You tore yourself from the bed, instantly feeling the lingering warmth of his fingers fade. A chasm was created between you two: your chest heaving on one side and his face crumbling on the other. The mountain of thoughts and feelings you created broke down under pressure, emotions roaring down its slopes in a cathartic avalanche. “I’ve been looking like a fool this whole trip, and apparently everyone is feeling so fucking sorry for me. Why can’t you just tell me everything? What did Yoongi mean? What do I deserve to know? You told me you got into Harvard and have the audacity to say you aren’t happy? What the hell is that about? We’re supposed to be friends, so why am I feeling like you’re letting that all go?” You choked on your tears and clasped a hand over your mouth, a burn blossoming in your chest from the dry sobs.

Seokjin’s eyes ringed with a burgeoning shade of pink, both of his pupils glossed in guilt. “I’m not… I’m not letting that go, but--”

“But what, Seokjin,” you gritted out, “Please stop and just tell me already.”

“But I was too scared,” he admitted, “I’m still scared.”

“Why are you scared?” The question drifted to his face, and you could tell he was struggling to answer even that one. It pained you to be this close yet so far from the answer.

“Why are you scared, Seokjin,” you whispered again, realizing that his hands were shaking.

“Because…” You watched as he clenched them on his thighs, and he struggled to get the words out. “Because it’s going to happen again.”

Enough with the obscurity. Frustration reached a boiling point. “What’s going to happen again?”

“Exactly what happened last time!” Seokjin declared as his eyes pleaded with you, eyebrows furrowed and kneeling in anguish. The skin encasing his watery eyes remained that same dusty shade of affliction.

You couldn’t for the life of you understand what he was saying, until you remembered last night. When you asked him about the time he loved before.

Wait.

Your hand made a slow descent from your face as you matched Seokjin’s stare. A million words skittered across your eyes, transforming into liquid and sliding down your skin. You were sure you looked an absolute wreck with your tear-stained cheeks and reddened nose, but that didn’t concern you at all. The only thing you could hang onto was Jin’s words, just short of a confession.

But you had to be sure. You weren’t settling for five words that could mean a thousand other things while arranged the same way. “The one from before,” you more stated than questioned, “Where is she now.”

Seokjin never broke his gaze, doing an incredible job of keeping tears at the edges of his eyes. Heavy breaths caused his chest to swell with each pass. Voice low, he finally, finally caved, “She’s the one on the polaroid I have in my room.”

The entire conversation from last night struck you like a freight train. So many realizations hit you at once and you didn’t know how your trembling legs were keeping you upright.

It was you. He was talking about you.

Your coat smothered your limbs like a cage, your whole being rattling inside like an animal starved.

That was what he was truly hiding from you. That was what he had buried deep down into his chest. And you couldn’t blame him one bit after you realized it was exactly what you were holding from him, too.

No matter the reason, you still kept your own truth hidden. It occurred to you then that you couldn’t be angry - that would just be hypocrisy. There was bravery in confession, and even more so to someone you no longer were allowed to feel that way about.

You were the one that forced the truth out of Seokjin, and now you only felt like a coward.

Movement in front of you snapped your vision back into focus. He was getting up to leave. Why was he leaving?

“I knew this would happen,” he said, his voice strained. “I’ll go. I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable.”

Oh. He assumed your silence was from guilt. Guilt that you didn’t feel the same. And he was about to walk out with that egregious misconception. What an absolute fool.

But no matter how hard you tried, the words wouldn’t budge from the back of your teeth.

You had two choices here. One, you told him. You laid everything out and you admitted that you felt the same. Then tomorrow, he would leave your life and you may not see him again for years. And you tried this before - being in two separate schools and living different lives while holding onto your relationship. It obviously didn’t work last time, and you still saw him from time to time. This situation would be a thousand times harder.

Which brought you to the second option: you let him go. You let him leave without telling him how you felt. Rip the bandage off right there and then. Leave him to pursue his dream, and with that the freedom to go and find someone else to love. Was that what you wanted? Was this your own sick version of loving him? All the villains in the universe would applaud you as you lied to his face while telling him not to give up. How fucking cruel would that be?

“Seokjin,” you called out, and your chest subtly heaved when he turned to stone by the door. His broad back remained still as you took a step towards him, and only after you roamed your eyes over his shoulders did you notice small movements. But he didn’t face you. It was almost as if he didn’t want to.

Agony consumed your entire being as you made your decision.

You shut your eyes, clenched your jittering fingers into hard fists.

“See you at the campfire,” you whispered, your voice unfamiliar even to yourself.

The only response you got was the soft opening and closing of your door.

Compared to last night’s lion of a snow storm, tonight was but a mere cub. There were small flakes here and there taking their time to descend, and the fixtures from inside the lodge were the only light source beside the fire pit you were approaching downstairs.

Situated in the center of your friends, the flames danced across their jovial smiles as they passed bottles around. The drinks weren’t the lodge’s, but the ones you all brought and snuck out of the rooms - the telltale green glass was enough of a hint.

After Seokjin left, it took you a couple minutes to let everything out, and about thirty minutes crying into Rin’s shoulder once she witnessed your crumpled form on the floor. She listened to your recap of the conversation and Jin’s final secret, and through broken sobs you told her you couldn’t tell him yours. When she asked why, you told her your reasoning. When she called you an idiot, you wholeheartedly agreed and cried even harder.

But you still stuck with your decision. It was for the best. You loved him so much that you wanted what was best for him, and that was to let you go.

“Promise me one thing,” Rin murmured, earning a nod from you. “Only go through with it if you know you won’t regret it.”

A sharp pain sliced through you then, but you acquiesced. “I won’t.”

She then grabbed your Polaroid from the bed. It was Namjoon’s idea to bring it to the campfire once he heard you brought it on the trip. “Are you okay with this?”

“Yeah,” you gulped, regarding the old piece of the past with heavy eyes. Seokjin confessed to you with the help of that camera. You weren’t okay with the mere idea of touching it. “Yeah, it’s fine. I want everyone to enjoy themselves tonight, so. Yes.”

Even if that meant you suffered. This was Seokjin’s last trip with everyone, not just you. Why keep them from making good memories just because you were a walking dark cloud?

You reached the bottom of the rickety stairs, the squeaky noises catching the attention of the boys. Most of them raised their bottles to you, but you caught Jin staring at the fire instead.

If you got through this night in one piece, it would be a miracle.

Namjoon stood as you and Rin settled into your seats. “Okay. Since we’re all here now, I say we start.”

As everyone gave their cheers, the eldest just looked confused. “Start what?”

“Something for you,” Yoongi explained, his body already comfortable in his Adirondack. “Since you aren’t joining us for these anymore.”

“Ah, yah,” Seokjin protested, “You don’t need to do anything—”

“Don’t lie, you already love this,” Jimin cut in, all smiles despite the companion bruises and cuts on his face to Jin’s. “Although, your opinion may change in a second.”

Jungkook paused his leg bouncing to shout, “Let hyung explain!”

You smiled as the group settled, but noticed that Jimin was looking at you strangely. You didn’t have time to process it, though, since Namjoon headed things off while a bottle rested against his chest, “Jin-hyung. We just want you to know that we’re proud of you. Even though we may not see you for awhile, you’ll be in our hearts and on our minds. Starting tomorrow, you’re already Dr. Kim to us, so I say we all call you by name tonight.”

Laughter and claps filled the air, drowning out Seokjin’s weak protests.

Namjoon cleared his throat to calm the air, and you watched small flakes catch in his hair as he continued, “We’ll each do two things: give you advice, and ask for advice. Since you’re clearly educated, we figured you’d have a lot to say.”

“Oh, I’m just lucky.”

“And keep sharp, everyone. Miss Photographer over there will be taking pictures.” Namjoon nodded at you, and you gave a short smile while holding up the Polaroid. You were fine doing this; behind the lens was your safe space.

The boys and Rin slowly got through their questions and advice, and you were shocked by how insightful Seokjin was being. You never truly realized the magnitude of his intelligence. Every person around the campfire hung on his every word, and it didn’t help that you all took a swig after every good point he made - many, many times. You diligently fired away on your camera, making sure to get Seokjin with everyone so they could all have a moment captured with him.

When Jimin’s turn came, he shot you a glance before looking at your ex. “Jin. That sounds weird to say. Jin-hyung.” He looked at the ground before continuing, and you knew it was to compose himself. “My advice to you… Sorry,” he buried his head in his elbow for a brief moment. Yoongi looked away.

“I kinda gave you advice already,” Jimin trudged on, “And you took it. So, my next piece of advice would be to, uh, keep going.”

You were rooted to your chair. Seokjin didn’t spare you a single glance during that exchange, but you knew it was about you. It had to be how he ended up at your door earlier. He even said Jimin was the one responsible for his wounds.

“Thank you, Jimin,” Jin replied. “As for my advice to you, it’s okay to let people figure things out on their own. You don’t have to put it on yourself to be the one that keeps people together. If something ends up breaking, you’re going to think it’s your fault.”

Jimin regarded him with watery eyes before nodding and wiping his freezing tears. And when he looked your way, he saw you only looking at Seokjin. Your face was slowly cracking, and the shadows in your facade were exacerbated by the flames.

It was your turn; everyone else went. The Polaroid felt like a boulder on your thighs.

You blinked before setting the camera down and clutching your bottle. Since Seokjin was on the other side of the fire, you had to stand to see him, your tenseness on full display.

What could you possibly say in that moment that he wanted to hear? That he was willing to listen to? You were certain you took his heart and slammed it into the ground earlier. It would be better if you just didn’t say anything.

“Seokjin,” you started, pausing to collect yourself. “My advice to you is to forget the advice I gave you before.”

Several pairs of eyes looked at you then. Even Jin finally regarded you, the most aware of what you were referring to.

“What I’m trying to say is: it’s okay to give up sometimes, because not everything that you want to happen is going to happen. There will be times you will just have to let things go. And that’s okay. Because maybe letting things go would end up for the best.”

Jimin’s eyes bore into your soul. He sat so still that it put all the statues throughout history to shame.

Seokjin grabbed his bottle with both hands, elbows resting on his knees. “Interesting advice.” His eyes danced as they took in the warm flames. “I might even follow it.”

Both of your lungs threatened to give out at his words. Your hands almost dropped the glass you were barely clinging to, but you never looked away from Jin. It was as if your attention was chained to his body, your soul weighed down by his earlier confession and now his possible break.

If he followed your advice, shouldn’t you be happy? It’s what you wanted in the end, right? You would let him go, and he wouldn’t look back.

Snow drifted onto everyone’s chairs and the fire crackled in front of you. A small breath left you in a wisp of white. Warmth did its best to help you, but the cold was too strong. No amount of fire in the world could melt your icy conscience - you truly left Seokjin in the dark. He practically admitted that he loved you, and in return you gave him nothing. Of course he would consider your advice.

“But I like the sound of not giving up. It has a ring to it that exists beyond the sound it makes when someone says it,” he cut himself off, the silence deafening. Inside, bells rang in your head. What was he implying? Seokjin’s voice was as clear as blue skies when he continued, “So, I guess I’m stealing your advice and giving it to everyone here.”

Your gaze shifted to the side as everyone turned towards Seokjin. This was something you weren’t prepared to digest. Settling back down into your chair, you tried to even out your breathing and neutralize your shaking fingers.

Your feelings were warring with each other in a confusing battle. If you wanted him to follow your advice, why were you relieved when he said he liked not giving up? Did that mean you hoped he still waited for you? Years and years and years from now?

“Take it from me: don’t give up,” he advised. “But what I mean by that is to not give up until you’re happy.”

Guilt squeezed your eyes shut, clamping your lids down. He was going to wait. Love was the one thing he wanted to be happy. And you held your love for him tightly in your hands, behind your back and hidden from sight.

But even still, in the midst of your silent rejection, this man wasn’t letting go. Without saying the words, Seokjin was going to wait for you. Because he still loved you.

This was too hard.

“To being happy,” Jimin boisterously cheered, startling everyone and causing your bones to rattle. His glass remained high in the air, and everyone joined in with their own proclamations.

“To being happy,” you whispered alongside the others, quickly taking a swig.

Yoongi was the next one to pipe up as he declared, “Okay, now that all that’s done, let’s just drink for fuck’s sake.”

Amongst the laughter and “thank god”s thrown about, you quickly downed the rest of your drink like it was your lifeline. You needed more than liquid courage to get through the rest of the night. The camera by your feet was snatched up by Jungkook before Taehyung could get to it, and you prayed to every higher power that they kept it in one piece.

As everyone made their way back to their rooms, you noticed Seokjin joking and laughing with the others like normal. It was a continuation of the rest of the night, since after the advice conversation it was nothing but fun. Your Polaroid almost ran out of film, for one, but watching everyone fight over the photos was entertainment in itself. There were digs toward Jin until he turned red, jabs thrown at Jimin’s fragile emotional state, and Rin’s warm laughter coating everything in a soft glow.

And it was a bittersweet event. There was nothing more you wanted than to capture that moment and place it in a snowglobe. The world wouldn’t interfere with your friends, and none of you would ever leave.

Seokjin was about to head up the stairs to tuck in for the night. Full of soju and stupidity, you blurted, “Leaving already?”

He stilled before turning toward you. “Oh. Yeah.” He regarded you with a look you couldn’t completely decipher. “Long day tomorrow.”

“Right,” you replied, hating the sudden hollowness you felt. Or didn’t feel.

“Well… Good night.” Seokjin tapped the banister twice before heading up, and you softly wished him good night before speedwalking to your room. You were only tipsy, so the fast trip didn’t bother you. The camera in your hands kept your center balanced the whole way back.

By some strange miracle, you kept it together the whole time after everyone’s campfire speeches. You imagined yourself as an ice sculpture, surrounded by the guests of honor. Everyone gave you a glance and thought nothing else of you. They could only see composure and poise. Only when they got closer could they see you slowly melting, rivulets of remorse cascading down your entire frame.

Rin was in the middle of her skincare routine when you entered your room. As soon as she heard your footsteps, she made a noise indicating she had something to say. The product around her mouth didn’t let her yet, though. Which meant you had to wait.

You stood in the doorframe of the bathroom, vision spinning just a smidge. This was probably a talk you didn’t want to have, but you gave your friend her podium. It was only fair. Her serious talks were few and far between.

But she didn’t have much to say when she finished getting ready for bed. In fact, she only said three sentences.

“It’s 11 o’clock,” she stated plainly, her tone indicating she was done with the calmer approach. Bluntness was more her style.

“Okay?”

“We leave at 7 in the morning.”

“And?”

“It means you have eight hours to decide how you’re going to feel for the next ten years.”

Silence.

All you could respond with was silence.

Dead air. Sober. You were sober now. In that moment, you may have held your breath for a century. Too many thoughts flooded your brain, from past memories at a carnival to future images of an empty apartment with a bed fit for one.

It was stark. Blank. There wasn’t going to be a future with Seokjin, no matter what you said.

But when Rin put it that way, would you feel better if he knew the truth? Or would you keep this idiotic stance and lock your feelings away forever?

For the third time that night, your fingers rattled. Rin took them into her comforting palms.

“Go,” she murmured, and she smiled as she witnessed you burst into the hall.

Your strides were incredibly long as you hurried down the corridor. The doors blurred on either side of your vision, the pattern of the floor elongated with your fast pace. Your camera thudded into your chest over and over. Step after step after step got faster and faster as your anxiousness bubbled into your brain. The last turn before the stairs made you skid, and you rushed up the rickety steps. Your heart was thrumming, scratching at your chest to set it free.

When you got to his door, you were certain you woke sleeping neighbors with your rapid knocking. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Nothing could possibly stop you now.

You had no plan. There wasn’t time to think. All you wanted was to see him. All you could think about was letting everything out. Eight hours. You had eight hours.

Seokjin tugged the door open, pausing mid-swing when he saw your face. He looked so beautiful. Full of warmth. Like home.

“Jinnie.”

You didn’t mean to call him that, but you didn’t take it back. You weren’t taking anything back anymore. His eyes roamed over your features multiple times, searching for any indication that this was a dream. But it wasn’t. The words finally slipped from your lips.

“I’m not following your advice. Or my own.”

His eyebrows furrowed, but you pushed on.

“I’m giving up. But I’m giving up because I can’t let you go.” When Seokjin stared at you, it was impossible to look away.

His response came out in a rush, “What are you… what are you saying?”

“I’m saying I love you.” You huffed out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Damn it, I— I just love you. I love you so much it hurts.”

A shaky exhale left you at the look on his face. The quick descent into realization formed in the corners of his eyes, tears pooled at the edges before quickly streaming down his cheeks, collecting at the crux of his chin. Glassy orbs bore straight into your soul in search of answers, of truth. And if he wanted those answers, you already admitted the biggest one, so words were easier to come by.

“I’ve felt this way ever since our trip last year,” you started, slowly inching toward the wreck of a man. Not like you fared any better with the streaks forming on your own cheeks. “And I know it’s the stupidest thing to tell you now since you’re leaving, and we failed at long distance before, but--”

Seokjin breathed out your name, and his next words would stay imprinted in your mind forever. “I still want to try. And I’ll try as many times as you’ll let me.”

“I know. I know that now,” you whispered.

Passion and warmth bloomed in your chest, spiraling out into the far reaches of your limbs. Hundreds of nights imagining him accepting you again didn’t prepare you for this feeling. Nothing was holding you back; your walls came crashing down.

You finally broke and shielded your face in your hands, and you felt sturdy arms shield you from the world. The cruel, beautiful world that brought you two together right before he disappeared from your life again. You cried, and sobbed, and wheezed. The elation from his confession only magnified the pain of his departure.

You felt the weight of the Polaroid leave your chest as Seokjin lifted it from your neck. “Come inside,” Seokjin whispered into your hair, earning a hiccup from your chest. “Please.”

It was only then that you noticed you were still out in the hall. A small nod from you was all he needed to guide you into his room, and your throat constricted at the bags lying open on the bed.

Seokjin was already packing. Packing while thinking he was going to go through the same thing he went through last time. You felt absolutely sick. How could you even think of doing this to him? If there was a way to make it all up to him, you would do it. “I didn’t want to tell you before,” you confessed, burying your nose into his chest. “But that was wrong of me. You almost left without knowing. I’m so sorry.”

Strong, lean fingers traveled through your hair as your camera was placed on a table. The heavy clunk it made reached your ears, and a whisper followed. “I didn’t want to tell you, either. You don’t need to apologize.”

“If I told you earlier, we would’ve had more time. Now I’m just sad.”

“Look at me.” Jin caressed the back of your head, naturally lifting your gaze. His watery eyes took yours in, and he leaned forward to kiss the top of your hair. “We still have tonight, so if we’re going to be sad, let’s wait until after.”

“But you’re crying, too,” you observed, feeling slightly better from his words. How Seokjin was able to have that effect on you, you would never understand.

A light huff from him made you melt. “That’s because I’m so happy,” he confessed, softly laughing again and wiping his eyes with both hands.

He was happy. Seokjin was happy. You looked at the growing smile under his fingers, and you had no choice but to grin and join in his laughter.

Not because it was funny. But because it was unbelievable. You were able to gift him the last piece he was missing - he was finally able to find that happiness. How were you about to deny that from him? Now it seemed unfathomable.

When you looked at his hands again, you noticed there were lingering cuts. Worry washing over you, you cradled one in your palms and asked as Seokjin looked at you, “Should I take care of this, too?” Though the man had more than enough knowledge on playground injury care, you still offered because you wanted to be there for him in any possible way.

He replied instantly, “I took care of everything. Jimin, too. You saw him being his usual self earlier.”

“He said he’d give you hell if you didn’t talk to me on this trip. I didn’t think he would go this far, though.” You reached up to run a thumb along the small gash on Seokjin’s cheek, the blood drying into a deep red. “I’ll make him regret it later.”

Jin leaned into your touch, causing sparks in your skin. “Don’t,” he whispered, “He’s the reason I ended up at your door.”

You just nodded and lost yourself in the feel of his soft face. It was incredibly smooth under your fingers, even better than when you held his cheeks all those years ago. To think that this man loved you ever since then, and continued to do so until now, was unbelievable. But it was true, and no amount of words could account for how you felt about that.

Those eyes overflowing with adoration and affection were solely for you, and diving into them felt like being immersed in sunlit waters.

“Can I kiss you?”

The simple question took you by surprise, but you gazed at his lips. They only looked inviting, so who were you to deny him? “Please,” you sighed, and your eyelids closed shut at his pillowy touch.

Color sprang from your heart at his confession, but heat burst from your chest at his kiss. The moment his lips met yours, every worry wrapped around your conscience snapped in two. Vines of doubt, regret, and anxiety withered under the warmth of Seokjin’s touch. It was cleansing. Powerful. Searing.

A hand captured the back of your neck, and Jin took advantage of your gasp by dragging his tongue around the edge of your lips, a wordless plea to let him in. You gave in immediately, leaning forward and deepening the kiss, roping his tongue and eliciting a groan.

Heat rushed between your legs and you echoed his sound with a soft moan of your own. Unwittingly, your hands found their way to Seokjin’s chest and you reveled in the feel of him under the thin material of his shirt. Without breaking your lips from his, you skirted the cotton hem with your fingers.

Jin knew what you wanted, and his grin against your mouth only made you flush with desire. He broke from your lips to fully remove his shirt, and seeing his bare chest wiped the air from your lungs. You could only stare as you took in the lines of his solid build, wondering how the hell he had the time to achieve that look.

Seokjin smirked at your reaction, tossing his top and hauling the bags off his bed while you were taking time to process everything. “Do I need to charge you?”

You shook your empty head like a zombie. Your brain was currently mush, purely focused on the way his muscles rippled and slid against the confines of his skin. “No, don’t. I didn’t bring any money with me.”

Laughter erupted from the other side of the bed. After Seokjin placed the last bag on the floor, he straightened and clarified, “I meant plug you in. You seem to be buffering over there. Low battery?”

“Shut up and get on the bed,” you teased, shrugging off the coat you still had on. You didn’t even get to change since coming in from the campfire.

“Shut up and get on the bed, yes,” Seokjin fired back mercilessly as he sat on the comforter. He knew exactly how to push you. Even though you laughed, you made you way over to him and stood between his legs.

You were silent then. No matter how happy you were, his departure tomorrow was weighing on you. The time you had with him was short.

You wanted to make the most of it. Bringing your hand up to his face, you made sure to lightly skim over his gashes before mapping the rest. You wanted to ingrain every curve, every dip, every feature into memory. Every second was precious. The polaroid you had of him would still be no match for the real thing. If only you could capture the warmth of someone and keep it frozen in time.

Sure fingers clasped your hand, and Seokjin softly pulled you closer. Your first instinct was to rush in and hug him for dear life, and he immediately did the same to you, snatching the breath from your lungs and tugging tears from your ducts. You buried your face into his neck, inhaling his familiar scent and lamenting all the time you spent worrying over the smallest things.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” Seokjin whispered, squeezing your heart.

“I know,” you choked. You didn’t have much else to say.

“I just want to make sure we use it to do what you want.”

You loosened your hold on him, astonished by his consideration. The growing bulge under his pants was more than screaming his wants. You felt it ever since the first kiss. But even still, he wanted to accommodate you. Your needs before his.

It just made you fall for him even more.

Reaching down to skim your fingers along his cock straining against his pants, you hovered your lips over his neck. “I want you,” you whispered before descending upon the smooth expanse of skin and earning a groan.

Without warning, Seokjin tightened his arms around you. In one smooth motion, he effortlessly lifted you to straddle his thighs. You didn’t have time to think as he followed up with grabbing your head, pulling you down for another heated kiss. Your fingers latched onto his shoulders, scraping them when he thrust his tongue into your mouth.

“Don’t do that yet,” he grunted, and you didn’t need to ask why after feeling a twitch in his jeans.

You obeyed for the time being, cupping his neck with both hands. When you rolled your body against his, the hard feel of his stomach made you whimper. It was when you settled back on his hardness that your eyes widened. You were sure he was aching despite his silence. Maybe you could help him out a bit. “Jinnie,” you whispered, a firm hand on his chest, “Lie back for me.”

“I love hearing that again,” Seokjin admitted through a content smile, starting a fire across your cheeks. He leaned back after giving you another peck, and you plucked yourself from his thighs to take your shoes off.

But time was your biggest motivator to strip most of your clothes at that moment - not just your boots. Your pants were first, followed by your sweater, and finally your shirt. The whole time, Seokjin stayed propped on his elbows, watching you intently. He couldn’t hide the adoration in his eyes even if he tried. As he watched you stand there in nothing but your set, he smiled. “You’re beautiful.”

“Thank you,” you whispered in return. “Still not as great as you, though.” You started unbuttoning his jeans before he could defend his stance, and he lifted his lower body to help you shrug them off with his underwear. When Seokjin’s thick cock sprung free, your heart jumped at the sight. It had been so long since you felt it, tasted it, rode it. Was he thinking the same? Taking his velvety length in your hand for the first time in a long time, you felt a burst of confidence at its familiarity and his response.

“Baby,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “Please.”

You didn’t need another word. At the sound of the familiar pet name, you already started hovering over his cock, admiring how pretty it was before diving in. Licking around the head, you used the slick to glide your mouth far down his shaft, rolling your hand along the bottom to coat the rest.

Seokjin jolted at the sudden pleasure, and you felt a pang in your heart. You wanted him to remember this night. And you were much more experienced than you were before, though you would only get so much time to prove your growth.

Coming up for air, you used your hand to gather the rest of your spit and slide it down his cock, rubbing it a few times before diving down again. The stilted, garbled noises coming from your filled mouth were even getting your own underwear soaked, but they weren’t a match for Seokjin’s. His delicious grunts and moans sent you close to the edge. They were deeper than you remembered, and he wasn’t one to shy away from showing you how turned on and pleasured he was feeling.

The prominent veins of his cock were the roads along which your tongue traveled, and you made sure to love them all in between stuffing him fully in your warm mouth. He was so big, but you wanted to take every inch, tears welling in your eyes with your efforts.

You fought through even when you felt him rock the back of your throat. Seokjin took that moment to sit up, causing tears to leak fully down your cheeks at the deeper thrust. His hands dove into your hair, but he didn’t force your head down. Instead, they tugged you off his cock, and he gazed down lovingly at your wrecked expression. Jin’s voice dipped an octave and came out coated in sin as he asked, “Can you go a little more for me, beautiful?”

Your body tingled on instinct. You nodded and, when he smiled, you gripped his drenched dick in your fingers before descending your mouth onto his balls. Seokjin bucked his hips forward in a jolt as you grinned, lapping at his salty skin and delighting in the tremulous groans rolling down your back. Your hand squeezed the tip of his shaft before you straightened again, taking his cock captive without pause.

“Shit,” he grunted, his long fingers diving into your hair. His hands still didn’t push you down further, oddly, so you took the initiative and plunged down yourself.

The feel of his cock in your mouth was so familiar. It was almost second nature how easily you sucked him off, knowing when to hollow your cheeks and pull him further down the abyss of ecstasy. When to sink further and hum, ripping a delicious sound from his throat. Even when to bob and swirl your head around, effectively shutting down his ability to function.

It was then that you chose to really bring it home. You breathed through your nose as you took more and more of him in, even after you couldn’t breathe anymore. You felt your nose hit this pubic bone, and the long moan you got from Seokjin was worth the burn in your throat. His fingers tightened around your head, but when you came up gasping for air he didn’t stop you.

“Come here,” is all he said, tugging you up to straddle him again. A trail of saliva swung from your lips as you came up, but you paid it no mind. If anything, it added to the building lust inside your bones. Your panties were absolutely drenched by now, so dragging your core along Seokjin’s cock caused both of you to twinge. “Fuck,” he gasped, fueling your heat.

“Jinnie, please,” you whimpered, your voice hoarse. You wanted everything from him at once. You were getting impatient, and the overwhelming time pressure was stressing you the hell out. “I need you, please.”

Suddenly, everything stopped as Seokjin cradled your chin and swiped the spit from your lips. “You have me,” he assured you. “You have all of me.” He kissed your nose. “And you’ll have me for a very long time.”

Relenting, you leaned into his touch. “Now is what I’m concerned about.”

“I know,” he agreed before kissing you again. “I just wanted you to know the rest.”

“Okay,” you whispered before capturing his full lips with your own. When you felt him wrapping his arms around you, your heart leaped into your throat. When you felt him shift the both of you to lower you onto the bed, you already knew fresh tears were waiting behind your eyes.

With great care, Jin slipped your underwear off your smooth legs. Your bra was deftly unhooked next - not without an eyebrow raise from you and a wink from him - and tossed from the bed.

Staring at your naked form, Seokjin appeared completely lost in thought. It got to the point where you felt like covering yourself, but when you attempted to he swiftly denied any insecurity. “Don’t keep this from me,” he whispered. “I want to remember everything.”

You kept it together until then. Something in you broke and you softly choked on a cry. So he was thinking the same as you. This was the last night for a long time.

Starting from your shoulder, he kissed his way down along your neck, your collarbone, your chest. Taking one breast in one hand, he swirled his tongue around the nipple of the other. You gasped from the sudden burst of pleasure, which made Seokjin repeat the motion on the other side. He then lightly sucked on the nipple, releasing it with a small pop.

You wanted to close your eyes and lose yourself in the waves of pleasure he was giving you, making his way down your body. But you wanted to relive this night again and again. So you had to keep your eyes on him. Only him. His mouth’s searing heat as it kissed along your stomach, and the stark cold left behind when he moved on. His soft touch as he gently pried your legs open, and dark, lust-filled eyes as he stared at your dripping entrance. You wanted to remember the way he kissed along your legs, nipping in some places to make you gasp. The way his beautiful lips connected with your heat in a reverent kiss before his tongue explored inside. Each flick of his tongue, squeeze of his fingers on your legs, noise from his lips. How you loved him through every second of him worshipping you.

As soon as he brought his fingers up to caress your folds while sucking on your clit, you had to stop him. It was too much. You wanted to feel him when you broke.

Seokjin wordlessly obeyed as he crawled above you. You pulled him down for a kiss, not caring how he tasted. Your hands then went to his shoulders as he positioned himself at your entrance.

“Are you still…”

“Yes,” you nodded, touched that he remembered. “I’m still on it.”

“Okay.” He swooped down to capture your lips, and when you clenched your fingers around his shoulders, he grunted. “Are you okay to take it all?”

“Go slow. For now,” you said, earning a nod. “It’s been awhile.”

Seokjin’s gaze was heavy as he prepared himself. “Same.”

At the initial push, you whooshed out a gasp. It had been way too long since you’d been with someone. The intrusion indeed hurt. Maybe you should have let him prep you more, in hindsight. But Seokjin was nothing but tender as he waited for you to adjust. Once you were okay, he steadily pushed out and in again, going deeper. Slowly but surely, you were able to fully take him in.

And the feel of him completely inside you was nothing like you’ve felt before. It was comfort. It was home. It was a perfect fit, and you wanted to stay like that forever.

“God,” Seokjin groaned, “I don’t want to leave this room.”

You chuckled, rolling your hips. “Hmm, pussy or Harvard. That’s a pretty tough one.”

“If it’s yours, Harvard can wait,” Seokjin grunted before sending your thoughts spiraling with a huge thrust. You outright whined at him, but he pulled out only to spear you again with one long motion. “You still like it rough, baby?”

Chills cascaded down your spine and pooled at the apex of your toes. This was the Seokjin you were waiting for. You wondered if he was still into that after witnessing everything he was doing for you beforehand. But oh, were you ready for the pivot. “Fuck, yes,” you moaned. “You know I do.”

“You still have your word?”

“Carousel, yes.”

“Good girl.” That was all Seokjin needed. Grabbing the top of the headboard behind you, he launched into a rough and relentless pace that had you seeing stars. You felt so full, yet so weightless as you let your body go limp. The feel of Seokjin’s cock slamming into you repeatedly would continue to exist for months after tonight, the ridges of it sliding along your walls never forgotten entirely. You needed as much as he could give, and he knew that.

Gripping one of your legs, he hauled it over his sweat-slicked shoulder and tilted himself to reach a deeper position, twisting his reddened face to plant kisses on your ankle. Mewl after mewl tumbled from your lips at the deep thrusts.

“Touch yourself for me, baby,” Jin commanded while still pounding into you, and you wouldn’t dream of disobeying. Your fingers went straight for your jiggling breasts, teasing your nipples and tugging them for his blown out eyes. You moaned, and smirked when you saw Seokjin beginning to lose himself.

His tell was his scrunched eyebrows, and his eyes shifting down to watch his cock ram into your tight cunt. You still knew, after years.

You fell into complete ecstasy when he reached down with his free hand to rub your clit between your bodies, loving the way the veins in his arms protruded. Imagining licking along them all made you moan. And you didn’t care if the people around you heard. All of your mewls, moans, whines - they were all for Jin. He could have all of you again and again.

After one particularly deep thrust, he tugged his cock out, leaving your walls fluttering around an agonizing emptiness. “Turn around. On your knees.”

“Holy fuck, yes,” you rasped. He wasn’t letting the night go to waste at all.

Before you even assumed the next position, you felt a hand come down on your ass. The smack jolted you forward in pain, with pleasure settling in its wake.

“So pretty,” Seokjin whispered, ghosting his hand over the spot he spanked. He gave it another smack before gripping your ass cheeks apart. You assumed he was roving his eyes over your drenched core. “And still so wet.”

“Just for you,” you affirmed.

“Just for me,” he repeated before adjusting his knees on the bed to get closer. “But you might be too loud tonight, baby. I’m going to need silence from you this time.”

Shit. You were never, ever good at this part. But you nodded. What you weren’t expecting right away was the initial stroke to be rough, right down to the hilt. You cried out immediately, earning you a harsh spank.

Seokjin’s sudden laugh made you chuckle in embarrassment. He breathily joked, “Out of practice?”

“Something like that,” you admitted, your elbows and grin lost in the sheets. “I’m rusty.”

“Okay, let’s just do this then.” Jin leaned forward, stretching over you. You groaned at the feel of his solid chest on your soft back, your eyes rolling into your head feeling him completely mold into you for a moment. He got a fluffy pillow from the other side of the bed and let your head rest on it. “Can you bite this for me, my love?”

The new name spread wildfire across your face. “Yes. That I can do,” you assured him. When you had the material securely in your mouth, you nodded to signal he could continue.

“Good girl.” And continue Seokjin did. He went right back into the dominant Jin he loved being, and the one you loved being with. There was no mercy in his thrusts, stroke after stroke after stroke. If you lifted your back a little or lowered your butt, he smacked your supple flesh and corrected you instantly. “Ass up, baby.”

With Jin’s relentless pace, your body went limp and hung on by a thread. Loosening up allowed for even more of his cock, and your muffled moans started getting louder the closer and closer you got to the edge. You could feel your core tightening, threatening to unleash the pent up tension.

“That’s it, beautiful,” Seokjin praised, feeling your walls squeeze around him. “Do you want to come like this?”

You hastily shook your head. You wanted to see him when you came. And if you remembered correctly, he loved seeing your face when it happened, as well.

“Too bad,” he chuckled darkly, and you almost came undone right then. “Guess you’ll have to come again the way you want to later.” Reaching under you, he toyed with your clit as he kept the pace from behind.

You let go of the pillowcase as you kicked your head back in a moan, your saliva trail slowly gravitating toward the sheets. Seokjin only let you breathe for a second before pushing your head back down into the thin material. “Make noise again and you won’t come at all.”

Fuck. You bit hard into the pillow, tears forming at the corners of your eyes as you felt yourself losing control. His fingers felt divine on your bundle of nerves, his dick sliding through your folds over and over and over. The hand he placed on your head smoothed over your hair before bunching it and tugging. You reared back, dots swimming in your vision. “God, I want to choke you. Can I do that, my love?”

You released the pillow from your mouth again. His consideration was top notch tonight. Too much? You couldn’t decide or really care. “Yes, just do it. Do anything. Please. I’m so close.”

“Mm. Then cover your mouth.” Before you could follow his command, Seokjin pulled you up by a shoulder to be flush against his front. Sweat coated your back and your ass, causing you to slide down his chiseled stomach while speared on his cock. A strong hand wrapped around your throat, and the fingers that were teasing your clit mercilessly now ventured into the front of your folds.

One of your hands shot up to clamp over your mouth right before you let out a long groan. You loved when he took control, and when he lost control. If both happened at the same time, it was heaven.

You could barely last on your knees as his dick slammed up into you repeatedly. The hand around your airway was tight but only just, his praises in your ear being the real culprit of your stolen breath. Your pussy clenched harshly around his length, and you knew from the tight coil in your body that you were seconds from euphoria.

Seokjin felt it instantly. “Come, baby.” And as soon as he relinquished your throat did you give in, waves of pleasure coursing through you and a white burn shimmering in your lungs. It seemed endless. Ripple after ripple thrummed through your body, your joints slowly unlocking from their initial freeze. Behind you, Seokjin groaned and sang sweet nothings in your ear, his arms wrapping around your chest in a scorching embrace.

The high ebbed, but did not completely recede. You knew Jin still needed release, so you kissed his wrist next to your shoulder and whispered, “I want to see you now.”

“Whatever you need.” Seokjin slowly unsheathed himself, and you felt a slight pain. You watched as he positioned his back on the headboard. He knew what you wanted to do.

You made your way over to him and hovered over his length. Locking your hazy eyes with his dark set, you kissed him lazily as you languidly sank back onto him. Seokjin groaned when you didn’t use your hand as a guide beforehand. And frankly, that turned you on, too.

“You’re so tight still,” he grunted, his hands coming up and grabbing your ass before settling on your hips.

You rolled your hips before finding a rhythm. “You’re just big,” you mock complained, earning a deep chuckle.

“Aww. You sound. So. Sad,” he teased, thrusting up into you to punctuate each word. Your mewls were welcome now since he was done with his role. Now he could just sit back and enjoy your show for him. And occasionally torture you.

You found your rhythm again, rougher with him now with your hands in his dark, sweaty locks. One of your hands dropped onto his chest and raked down his breast, eliciting a higher moan than normal.

The sound caused heat to pool between your legs again, and you upped the pace. Your thighs burned from the exertion, but you kept yourself distracted by diving into Jin’s neck and nipping in multiple places. His arms left your hips to wrap around your back, and your breath faltered as he took over again.

Seokjin was close. He was always close when his limbs locked hard into place. His upward thrusts were fast and hard, and you could only moan in his ear and take him in. The coil that released once tonight was tightening again, and you murmured in his ear that you were close.

Seokjin only needed to kiss you like his life depended on it for you to unravel again. The wave was weaker than last time, but it could still cover mountains. Your head felt light, dancing above the clouds with no intention of coming down. You pushed yourself from his lips, allowing him to see your flushed chest and reddened cheeks. The second orgasm faded and loosened your limbs, but your heart felt completely connected to his, your soul nestled into the comfort of his tender embrace. “I love you,” you sighed, and you immediately felt a huge twitch between your folds.

“Lie down, baby. I’m close.”

“It’s okay,” you whispered, cradling his cheek. “Come inside me, Jinnie. I wanna feel you.”

“Shit,” he grunted. His thrusts descended into madness. Your heart rattled at the sight of his dusted red cheeks, sweaty neck, heaving chest. He was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen, and the one you would overturn stars to find should you ever lose him again.

When he gazed down at your joined sex, you took in the wet strands of hair on his forehead. When he kicked his head back against the headboard to look at you with lidded eyes, you bit your swollen lips. This wonderful man was your lover, your ex, your friend, and now your lover again. Only this time, you truly loved him back. And you wanted to think back to this moment forever.

Tears sprung into your eyes as he pulled you in for a searing kiss, and his orgasm released into you in spurts. The thrusts he made then were slow and powerful, and your body bobbed with the swells. You kissed him harder than necessary, almost willing to bruise your own lips on his. The longer you held his lips captive, the longer he couldn’t see your sorrow.

But Seokjin already felt the drops ping his chest. He just let you cry because that’s what you needed. Even when he broke from the kiss, he never said a word. He trailed kisses along your wet cheeks, your sweaty nose, and your glistening forehead. His poignant visage held nothing but stars, and it reminded you of the night you fell in love, crushing your spirit ever more.

Touch after touch after touch only coaxed more tears from your eyes. It felt never ending as you sat spent in his lap, still on his softening length. Sheer willpower was what caused you to finally speak, your voice hoarse, “We should clean up. You still need to pack and sleep.”

“We should, and I do,” he whispered. He patted your bum. “Can you get up by yourself?”

You nodded before extracting yourself from his firm thighs, lamenting the fact that human bodies had limits. As you waddled to the bathroom, you stumbled along the way, Seokjin softly chuckled while following you and steadying you when needed. Even when you shot empty glares at him, the smile in his eyes never left.

The rest of your time spent in his room consisted of silence and kisses. Ever the gentleman, he let you lie down on his bed while he used the other half for the bags to pack. It didn’t take him too long since he was organized from the jump, so when he was done he cleared the bed and joined you under the covers. When you felt a weight on your stomach, you looked down to see your camera dumped on the comforter.

Seokjin wrapped a strong arm behind your neck. “What do you call naked pictures taken with a Polaroid?”

“Oh, no.” You turned your head to face him. “What?”

“Just pictures. But that’s old nudes.”

You punished him by attacking his sides instantly, yanking a batch of honky laughs from him. Knowing your own weaknesses still, he unleashed his own parry, and it took a minute for the both of you to settle in a draw.

“Don’t tell me the only reason you brought this into the bed was to tell that horrid joke,” you chuckled, your head back to resting in your pillow.

“Nope. I wanna take one of us.”

After getting past all seven of your objections and excuses, Seokjin whittled your walls down and got you to agree. The end product existed on the last film in your Polaroid: a crooked snapshot of him kissing your cheek as you smiled with creased eyes, sheets held against your chest. And he conceded in letting you keep it after watching you clutch it lovingly in your fingers.

You immediately sought comfort in his embrace after setting the photo next to your phone on the nightstand, and he stole multiple kisses from you way after your eyes couldn’t stay open any longer.

“Get some sleep, my love,” Seokjin whispered.

And despite your sound of protest, you were pulled into the abyss of sleep right as you felt pillowy lips caress your forehead.

Rin-Rin [6:40am]: You’re lucky I love you. I packed your stuff and left out an outfit for you when you come down. Just don’t be late or I’ll drag you back down myself :)))

Jiminie [6:45am]: RISE N SHINE LOVEBIRDS

Rin-Rin [6:46am]: Oh, yeah, I may or may not have texted Jimin.

Jiminie [6:46am]: ABOUT TIME

Jiminie [6:46am]: !!!

Tae [6:47am]: jimins scream woke me up. i can only assume that means ill get to be an uncle soon. dont let me down i want this(:

Joonie [6:48am]: Aaaaaaaaaa !!!

Jiminie [6:48am]: And I know you want to yell at me for yesterday so I am ready for that whenever you are

Kook [6:50am]: <3

You smiled at your texts before locking your phone. Seokjin was already up and about, making sure everything was packed and accounted for. When he saw you stirring, he came over and surprised you with a kiss so deep that it revitalized your sagging emotional state. “Morning,” you chuckled, swinging your sore legs out of the sheets and wincing at the cold. “I need to head back down.”

“Yeah, Rin already sent the first round of threats. I’ll see you at the car, okay?”

You pecked him on the cheek after you slipped on your boots and grabbed your Polaroid. Stepping into the hallway, you kept reminding yourself to not completely lose it yet. There was still a whole car ride you got to have with him, and you were determined to slow down time however you could.

Your phone buzzed again, and you assumed Yoongi and Hoseok were just now waking up and getting the gossip. Checking your notifications only validated your guess.

Hobi [6:52am]: AHHHHH HAPPY FOR U~!!!

Hobi [6:52am]: ASLSKDJSKDHSKDJ

Yoongi [6:53am]: I’ll make sure to drag him back sometimes. It’s ludicrous to say that we’d never see him again. Drama queen. Anyways, happy for you. If you need anything, let me know.

Hobi [6:53am]: we’ll see seokjinnie again love. and if u miss him a lot then we can make sure you see him. im sure he’ll be missing u too

How you were able to win the friend lottery and meet these people, you had no clue. But you weren’t going to ever question the fact. All you would do was embrace your blessings and love them.

The car ride to the airport was long, but still much too short for your liking. Between the loving gazes you directed at Seokjin as he sang along to Taehyung’s music, the looks full of mirth Jimin gave the both of you from the backseat, and the laughter of both Rin and Taehyung, you were the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time.

Throughout the ride, you got the feeling that you were going to be okay. Seokjin was starting an insane adventure, but you were also going to be there every step of the way. Not just on the polaroid he decided to stash in his bag, but in his heart and on his mind like Namjoon said around the fire.

There were still plenty of ways to see each other and communicate. And since he technically didn’t start until next summer, that gave you plenty of time to see him before then. The many possibilities made you question your hesitation in the first place.

But none of that diminished how much of a struggle it was still going to be.

When the car rolled to a stop in the airport parking lot, your chest constricted. When everyone got their bags out of the cars and started the trek to the shuttles, your hands shook on your straps. As soon as everyone started saying their byes and separating to check into their airlines, you found it hard to breathe.

But a tender hand brushed through your hair, and plush lips connected with your forehead. In an instant, you felt okay again.

Seokjin’s calm voice slipped over your features. “Your flight leaves in two hours, right?” When you nodded, he continued, “Okay. Come shop with me before I have to go to my gate!”

You tried your best to keep a positive attitude while you watched Jin peruse different airport stores. When he would hold stuff up for you to approve, you would smile or dramatically turn things down. Even the cute neck pillow he really wanted got the dreaded rejection.

But that was only so you could pay for it when he wasn’t looking and surprise him. The huge laugh and grin you got in return was worth the trouble.

When it was time for Seokjin to head to his gate, you brought him in for a crushing hug. “Let me know when you land,” you demanded.

“Of course, honey,” he said through a smile.

“‘Honey,’ now?” You regarded him with a raised eyebrow. “You have so many nicknames for me. I can’t keep up. Do you have a favorite you could stick with?”

Seokjin rested his chin on your head. “Ah, I have a favorite. But it’s not true yet, so I shouldn’t use it.”

A fire ignited in your heart, the flames warming you from the inside. “And which one is that?”

“Would you look at the time!” Jin’s body heat left you in a rush as he stepped away, and your instinctual pout made him laugh outright. He cupped your chin for a kiss that rocked your whole being before pulling away. His eyes held galaxies in them when he stared into yours. “Guess you’ll have to wait for the answer to that one.”

“You’re a jerk, Jinnie,” you huffed, but you kissed him again. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“I really am. And I love you,” he responded. His hand came down to squeeze yours before he had to part. “I’ll let you know when I make it. Call me when you get home, okay?”

“Okay,” you replied, and you watched his long strides with a heavy heart and a hopeful mind.

As you told yourself again and again, you were going to be okay. It was going to be tough, it was going to be absolutely painful. But as long as you decided to keep loving each other, everything would work out.

You knew better than anyone that love was a choice. And for Seokjin, you would choose it a thousand times over.

And besides, the current state of technology was on your side. The possibilities of communication were too endless for you to dwell on the distance. Were there going to be days in which you only received one text? Most likely. Were there going to be weeks where you weren’t going to hear much from Seokjin at all? Definitely. But this time, unlike last time, you welcomed every bit of it. Your heart built a bridge to his that defied any sense of physical distance. On opposite sides, both of you were achieving success in your own ways. In the end, you would always come back to each other to celebrate together. Even though this was the last November trip you had with Seokjin, it was the beginning of many, many wonderful years to come.

It was later, while you were waiting for your own flight to finish boarding, that a message was sent to your phone.

Jinnie [12:04pm]: Attachment: 1 Image

You couldn’t help but grin. As you gazed lovingly at the picture of Seokjin smiling next to your polaroid, another one came in before you could respond.

Jinnie [12:05pm]: Until you’re really next to me, this will have to do. Don’t get too jealous!

You laughed to yourself, rolling your eyes while setting the image as your wallpaper. Locking your phone, you tapped the glass to see your screen light up, observing the picture again.

On a plane heading to another city entirely, Seokjin was doing the exact same thing. Except in his case, he was smiling down at a girl caught in mid-laughter, body aglow from the bright yellow lights of a spinning carousel behind her.

a/n: whewww so if you made it to the end, hi! i seriously enjoyed writing this and i learned so much. it’s my first fic and first huge one-shot, so if you have any comments/concerns/constructive feedback, please let me know! my ask box is always open, too. lastly, here is my m.list if you want to browse! 🌨🌨🌨 ++ feedback box (added nov. 25th, 2021): ⇥ of course, any reblogs/comments/messages are appreciated! ⇥ for the ones that aren’t okay with reblogging with a review, commenting on this, or sending a message, i went ahead and made another anonymous form where you can send in what you think! ⇥ no emails collected, no need to put in a username. it’s literally just a feedback dropbox :D ⇥ here! ++ ⇥ masterlist

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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Keys of truth - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

hiya loves! this was a very sudden idea of mine that i really wanted to write so i made it to be the last fic of fanficmas! thank you for reading my works through the month, i hope you all enjoyed all the content and i hope you’ll stay with me in 2021 as well! this is an exlovers to lovers fic, kind of very emotional so... yeah!

word count: 3.4k

masterlist

You stay in your car for so long the heat that warmed you on your way here has completely disappeared, your fingers are like ice as they still grip the steering wheel. The snow blizzard outside is raging, warning you that if you don’t go inside anytime soon you might get stuck here and that’s the last thing you want: trapped with your ex who you still dearly love.

You can barely see out of the windshield, it’s covered in snow, another sign that your time is ticking, you need to get back home before all roads get snowed in.

“You can do it. It’s just Harry,” you tell yourself, but that’s the problem. It’s Harry who is currently inside, kind of waiting for you to arrive, pack the remaining of your stuff from his house so your breakup can be official.

The burning regret has been making your life miserable in the past few weeks, ever since you said the words and instantly wanted to take them back. But upon seeing his reaction, you decided to be stubborn and don’t show your weakness.

“Can’t this conversation just wait a little longer, please?” he sighed, clearly annoyed that you brought up the same thing for the hundredth time in the past two months. But you just couldn’t help it, you were feeling like you were running out of time and Harry didn’t seem to realize it.

“How can you ask me to put it aside when my lease is ending in January? I need to know how to plan. Why is it so hard to decide if you want me here or not?”

The thought of moving together had come up a few times, but it became a burning question when your lease was nearing its end. You wanted to move in with Harry, something you’ve been planning on for a while, and you thought he did the same. But when you first mentioned it to him, he seemed hesitant, as if he didn’t want it wholeheartedly and that hurt you like Hell, but thought he might had had just a long day. So you agreed to have the conversation another time, but it seemed like no time was suitable for him. He had been dodging your question instantly, trying to get out of it as fast as possible, giving you the feeling that he doesn’t want you around after all.

But it was now the beginning of December, leaving you very little time to look for a new place if he decided he needed his own place. It wouldn’t have bothered you that much, you understand his need for privacy, but at least have the courage to tell you, right? But he didn’t. He kept brushing it off, building the tension in you until one day… you snapped.

“It’s not that easy, Y/N, alright? I asked you to have this discussion later, why can’t you wait a little more?” he snapped right back, growing frustrated as well, but you didn’t think he had the right.

“Wait for what? To make up your mind if you want a future with me or not? If you are hesitant about it, then I think we have a bigger problem on your hands here, Harry,” you retorted, feeling all the rage you’ve kept bottled up erupt from you.

“What does that supposed to mean?” He looks at you with a hard stare and you stand his piercing eyes, not looking away.

“What it means is that… your behavior is making me think that maybe we aren’t heading in the right direction. I thought it was evident that we would move in, but your hesitation is kind of ruining the picture for me.”

“I’m not hesitating, I just asked for some time to smooth some things out!”

“What things? Do you have someone else living with you and you need to get rid of them before I can move in or what?”

“For fuck’s sake, just give me some damn time, Y/N!”

“Well, I don’t think I have any more time.”

He stared at you in disbelief and the words burned your tongue, but there was no turning back now, it was out there.

“For the moving or for me?” he simply asked, no emotion showing on his face and that hurt you more than you expected. You wanted him to panic, to fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness, but his reaction was so cold and empty, it completely broke your heart.

“I think we both know the answer,” you whispered, feeling the tears building in your eyes already.

You stormed out of his place after a few insults were thrown at each other and now it has been three weeks you officially called it quits. The worst three weeks of your life, if you are being honest. Not one night went by without you crying yourself to sleep, deeply missing Harry. You still love him more than anyone or anything and there were so many times you just wanted to go back to him crawling, but your pride didn’t let you. He seemed just fine to let you go and that was like a stab in your chest, see him so in peace with you walking out. You just couldn’t believe two years went right out the window just like that, after such a ridiculous little thing. You still haven’t been able to figure out why he couldn’t just give you an answer. It would have been painful to hear him tell you he doesn’t want you living with him just yet, but you would have gotten over it eventually. Would have been a lot better ending to the story than this ugly breakup you won’t be able to forget about… ever.

Swinging the door open the cold wind slaps you right across your face, earning some pretty creative curses from you as you lock the car. Snow is everywhere, threateningly falling with no mercy, and you know you need to make it quick.

Marching up to the front door you push the button to the doorbell a little too forcefully, eyes squinting from the blizzard and it feels like your eyelashes are now covered in snow completely.

Then the door opens and there he is, standing tall and just as handsome as always, wearing a pair of grey sweatpants and a knitted sweater, curls a little messy but in the cutest way possible. He looks so cozy and warm, you just want to wrap yourself into his embrace, but you remind yourself that you no longer have the right to be that close to him.

“Hey, come on in,” he greets you with a small smile, holding the door open as you walk inside and he finally shuts the door, keeping the cold outside.

You haven’t seen him since your fight and now it’s like another slap across your face, seeing him in the flesh, looking… fine. As if nothing has happened while you’ve been a nervous wreck these past weeks and it makes the whole situation even more painful.

“Hi. I’ll be quick, I promise,” you tell him clearing your throat as you get rid of your coat and boots, leaving them by the door so you don’t get any mess on any of his rugs. He nods his head quietly following you further inside the house before taking the lead. You’ve thought about this place as a second home for some time now, but now being here as just some kind of guest is heartbreaking, but you try your best not to think about how painful it really is.

“Most things are in the wardrobe, but I think you have quite some books in the study as well,” he says, awkwardly clearing his throat as he walks you into his bedroom he has shared with you oh so many times before.

“Thanks,” you mumble.

“Do you fancy a cup of tea? I can also help you if you want,” he offers, clearly not certain about how he should act now and that makes the two of you, it seems.

“Tea sounds great, but I’ll be fine on my own,” you tell him with a faint smile and he just nods, shuffling out of the room, leaving you alone.

You start going through his spacious wardrobe, collecting all your items you’ve left here through your time with him, and pack them away into the bags you brought with yourself, knowing well you have a lot to take home. You hear Harry starting the kettle outside in the kitchen and you need to take a deep breath so you don’t start crying. You miss him so much. You miss having him around, talking to you, touching you… kissing you. It’s killing you to know that you’ll never have him the way you want and it feels like you can do nothing, but to suffer quietly.

While packing, you find some of the shirts he always gave you when you spent the night, even though you had your own clothes to sleep in. There was just something different to have his shirts on, smell his scent and he also never failed to tell you how much he loves seeing you wear his stuff, so you shamelessly borrowed anything that caught your eyes. For a moment, you debate if he would notice if you took one of his shirts, but then you tell yourself it would be a stupid idea, so you force yourself to leave there everything that’s not essentially yours.

“Here. With a dash of honey, just like how you always drink it,” he smiles at you warmly as he reappears with a steaming mug in his hands.

“Thank you,” you mumble shyly taking the mug from him to have a breather from all the packing.

He stays standing there, just a few feet from you, looking around a little lost, his hands on his hips, as if he is trying to find something to do, but there’s none. It’s the first time you see something in him, something you are not used to, but it’s so masked that you can’t put your finger on it.

“Alright, um… I’ll be in the kitchen if you need any help,” he then says with a tight-lipped smile before walking out and leaving you alone again.

You need a breather once he is gone, you let yourself sit on the edge of his bed, sipping on the tea and you can’t ignore how he used your favorite filter, the one you always made him buy so he had it at his place as well. These thoughtful little things always make your stomach churn, especially now. Because you just can’t put it together with how it all ended. Why would he be this caring and loving man towards you, when he doesn’t want you anymore?

Swallowing down you tears you just sit there until you finish the hot drink and force yourself to stand up and bring the mug out for him. Your feet tap against the hardwood floor quietly and as you are about to turn the corner, you stop hearing his quiet voice coming from the kitchen.

“I can’t, Gems. I can’t fucking do it,” you hear him, his voice muffled and something odd lacing through it. “But it’s so fucking hard!” he snaps after a short silence and you assume his sister told him something through the phone. “I don’t want this…” he breathes out and you realize that he is crying.

He lets out a quiet sob and you dare to step forward and look in his way in the kitchen. He is hunched over with his back facing you, a hand gripping the edge of the counter while the other one his holding his phone to his ear. He looks so broken, like just a ghost of himself, nothing like the unbothered man you saw just a little while ago. Seeing him like this breaks your heart even more and you don’t even know what to do or say, so you just stand there, eavesdropping on his conversation with his sister.

“I don’t know how she would react. You really think it’s a good idea?” he asks, sniffing his nose and his hand flies from the countertop to his face, wiping his cheeks harshly. “I don’t… Fuck, this is so bad, Gems.”

You feel your throat closing up, you are dying to know what Gemma is saying on the other end of the call.

“I know,” he replies to something. “Of course I do. How can I not? This was never supposed to happen.” Another silence. “I fucking know, Gems, but I felt so dumbfounded, I literally couldn’t think straight!”

You suck on your breath, trying your best to put the bits and pieces together. If he is talking about what you think, you are about to break out into sobs any moment.

“Alright,” he sighs, head falling back a little as he is probably blinking away his tears. The urge to just go up behind him and hug his waist, pressing your cheek against his shoulder blades, like you always do whenever he is washing the dishes or making breakfast for the two of you, is getting hard to fight.

He ends the call and before you could even realize, your feet are taking you forward in his direction. Your knee cracks when you take a bigger step and it makes his head snap around. You freeze right where you are, a few feet away from him, holding your empty mug in your hands, staring back at him at a lack of words. Now that he is facing you it’s clear that he was indeed crying, the redness around his eyes and glistening cheeks of his give him away instantly.

“Oh, um, hey. You need help with anything?” he asks, wiping his cheeks again, though there’s no use in trying to hide the signs.

“Harry, what was that about?” you softly ask as he keeps his eyes fixated on the tiled floor in front of him.

“Just… Gemma.”

“What was never supposed to happen?” you ask ignoring how he tried to dodge your question. He draws a shaky breath, looking anywhere but at you and you hate it. You need to see those green eyes on you. So stepping closer you turn his head by his chin so his glassy gaze meets yours.

Harry opens his mouth two times, but closes it until he finally speaks up for the third time.

“There’s something I want to give you,” he tells you, caching you by surprise.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Just…” he breathes out in defeat. “Let me give it to you, okay? And I’ll answer all your questions after that.”

Silently you nod and watch him shuffle into his bedroom, hearing him open a drawer and then he appears with a tiny box in his hands. It’s deep blue, with a pretty little white bow on top. He gestures for you to sit on the couch with him, so you silently obey and the two of you sit on each sides of his plush couch.

“Here,” he whispers handing you the box. Glancing up at him you try to put the picture together, but you fail to see what this is about so you go ahead and take off the lid.

At first you don’t realize what it is that you are looking at. There is a set of keys on a chain along with a little silver heart, your name engraved into it. A second passes by, then another and you gasp when realization hits you.

“Harry, what is this?” you ask, not really meaning that what’s in the box, because you figured it’s the keys to his place, but you can’t figure out why he just gave this to you.

“I’ve had them made for over two months. Wanted to give them to you on Christmas as a surprise. This was my plan all along and this is why I tried to push the conversation back. There was nothing to talk about, I wanted you here, I just wanted it to be a surprise for you. But then we had that stupid fight and I knew I should have just told you the truth, but I was shocked and couldn’t think properly. I never wanted us to end up like this and when I realized what I did you were already… gone.”

The tears start soaking your cheeks within a moment as you clutch onto the keys for dear life, listening to Harry.

“I was an idiot. I wanted to call you and tell you why I didn’t want to talk about the moving, but then I thought you wouldn’t believe me and say that I was just trying to save what was left of us. Fuck, that was my biggest mistake ever. I haven’t stopped beating myself up about it and I’ve been so miserable without you, Y/N. You can’t even imagine.”

“I think I can,” you choke out with a bitter laugh. “I regretted it the moment I said those words. But I was too proud to admit it and you seemed just fine with it.”

“Oh I was miles away from being fine,” he breathes out, his body falling forward as he leans his elbows onto his thighs. “I didn’t stop crying until like six in the morning, Y/N. After you left, I felt like I had nothing left.”

You sob at his words, putting the keys aside as you crawl into his arms, swinging a leg over him so you can straddle him and sit on his lap. His strong arms curl around your frame instantly, an instinct he has had for a while now and three weeks wasn’t enough to get rid of it, luckily. He pulls you close as you bury your face into the crook of his neck, sobbing and crying uncontrollably.

“I’m sorry I ever made you think I’m not planning my future with you. You are my future, Y/N. All of it.”

“Stop!” you choke out laughing. “I can’t cry any harder!” you say, making him laugh as well. His hand slides to the back of your neck, threading his fingers into your hair.

“Oh baby, I don’t want you to cry at all,” he chuckles softly, pulling you to his chest once again. “I want you to be happy, preferably with me, but if you tell me to fuck off, I still understand.”

“Don’t you dare say that,” you smack his chest gently. “I love you way too much to ever say that.”

“Fuck, you don’t know how amazing it is to hear that,” he breathes out as his hands move up to cup your face and he finally pulls you into a sweet, i-missed-you-so-fucking-much-don’t-ever-leave-me-again kiss that makes the whole world spin around you. Just like that, the universe falls into perfect balance and all the suffering and pain you had to go through, it vanishes the moment Harry’s lips touch yours again, something you truly thought would never happen again.

“So, have you found a place yet?” he asks, a little out of breath from the kisses you two just shared. Resting his forehead against yours he looks into your eyes with his piercing green ones that you missed so dearly.

“I was supposed to move to my sister’s temporarily, but I guess I can give her a call that she won’t have to put up with me after all,” you chuckle making Harry laugh as well. “When do you want me to move?”

“Like right now,” he replies instantly, making your heart flutter. “But whenever you want to, it doesn’t matter as long as you don’t change your mind about it.”

“Then how about after Christmas?”

“Perfect,” he breathes out pecking your lips again.

“I guess we have to rearrange our Christmas plans too. Unless… you don’t want me to go home with you.”

“None of that shit anymore, baby. I want you with me all the time,” he blurts out making you smile. He will never hold anything back from now on, this mishap taught you both a lesson about communication and honesty. He turns to look out the window and you follow his gaze realizing the blizzard has completely snowed the two of you in. “I think we might be trapped here for a while,” he states, a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“Oh no, what a disaster!” you moan, voice still shaky from the crying, but your comment makes the both of you laugh.

“Luckily, you still have all your stuff here,” he huffs looking back at you.

“Mhm, luckily,” you breathe out before pulling him down for another kiss.

Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #fanficmas2020 #fanficmas 2020 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2020

842 notes · View notes

bqstqnbruin · 3 years

Text

Always be my plus one

Here we go, y'all. We're ignoring that it's 3:30 in the morning but I'm just yeeting the first part of this into the wild and hoping it goes well. Ignore typos, we all know that everything I post is a first draft.

I need to thank @hockeywocs, @chara-hugs, and @zinka8 (WHY CAN't I TAG YOU) and all the anons who have come into my ask box to help me with this! ily all!

WARNING: some description of child birth

Hope you like it!

Series masterlist

------------------------------

Part 1: Christmas Day and the day after Christmas

The name for Christmas comes from the shortening of “Christ’s Mass,” a traditionally Christian holiday that celebrates the birth of Jesus Christ to the Virgin Mary and Joseph in a manger in Bethlehem. Although the exact date of his birthday is unknown, around the fourth century the Catholic church fixed the date of this celebration to be December 25th. Other religions and belief systems have similar celebrations around the same time, such as the Winter Solstice, or Midwinter. Celebrations include a mixture of pre-Christian, Christian, and non-secular traditions, such as gift giving, completing an Advent Calendar or Advent Wreath, Christmas music, church services, a special meal with family and loved ones, Christmas trees, lights, nativity scenes, and Santa Claus to name a few.

The day after Christmas, known as Boxing Day in some European countries, is traditionally known as a shopping holiday. In America, this is typically the day when people start to return any unwanted Christmas gifts, stock up for next Christmas on items that are marked down on sale, or see friends that they hadn’t been able to see before Christmas.

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December 21, 2021

“One fifteen means fifteen minutes before I have to clock in. Fifteen minutes before a twelve-hour shift that I’m not ready for and don’t have enough caffeine for,” Anne muttered to herself, staring at her reflection through her car's rearview mirror. “But, fifteen minutes before getting to do something that I thankfully love, something that I enjoy doing.” No matter how long the shift in front of her, Anne had developed a habit of giving herself a pep talk before she got out of her car. “Whatever happens, you’ve helped someone.”

The last part wasn’t always true, knowing that there was the possibility that something could go wrong that she and the other nurses and doctors wouldn’t be able to fix. Lying to herself that everything was going to be ok was the only want to convince herself to go into the hospital every day. Finally mustering up enough courage to get out of her car, she grabs her bag from the backseat, heading in for yet another long day right before the Christmas holiday.

The maternity ward where Anne worked never ceased to be hectic, the miracle of life happening at least once an hour. No matter how much Anne had studied in nursing school, nothing could have prepared her for the stress that could come from the job, the long hours, the potential for something so right to turn so wrong in a minute, the way nothing can go planned since the baby dictated all, the mess that comes with every birth, or the joy that results from a former patient sending her the occasional picture of a baby she helped deliver as they’re growing up.

“Hey, Tyson, come on!” comes from inside the open doors of the building, Anne not paying attention to who it was coming from, causing her to collide with a stranger, spilling her much-needed coffee all over the both of them.

“Shit,” she says, not looking up from the brown splatter on what should be mint green scrubs. “I am so sorry.”

Standing in front of her was a curly-haired boy, about her age, wearing what she was sure was a Colorado hockey jersey. Beyond that, she had no idea. “No, no, it’s my fault. I wasn’t looking where I was going. Let me buy you another,” he offers, ignoring the persistent calls from his friends to hurry up.

Anne checks her watch: 1:19. “It’s ok. I don’t really have the time, I have to clock in in eleven minutes, and knowing the cafeteria or the vending machines, it would take a lot longer,” she says, trying to get by him. Before he can protest, she gets to the elevator that would bring her to her floor, thankful that it was ready to get her there without her having to wait. The doors start to close, only to be stopped by a hand stuck through them, the curly-haired boy with the coffee stain down the front of him getting on the elevator with her. Anne gives him a confused look, begging him to explain why he was trying to make her late for her shift.

“If you aren’t going to let me buy you one now to make up for it, at least let me see where you work so I can drop one off for you.”

Anne rolls her eyes, unamused by the man in front of her as he attempts to flirt with her. “That would be nice, but the chances of me getting it before it goes cold are slim to none, so you need to suggest something else if you really want to buy me a coffee.”

“Let me get your number so I can buy you one when you aren’t working?” he asks, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. 1:25. “I’m Tyson, by the way.”

The elevator dings, signaling that they were on Anne’s floor, opening the door to nurses and doctors running around, expectant fathers who were probably kicked out of the delivery room for making the mom too nervous pacing the halls, grandparents trying to control younger children who had little to no idea what was going on as they waited in the strange building. Anne walks to the backroom to drop her stuff off and clock in, typing her information into the stranger’s phone as he followed her like a puppy, his friend’s texts coming across the top of his screen asking where he went so they could leave.

“I’m Anne, and I’ve got to go,” she tells him, handing back his phone. There was no way he was going to text her, and it’s not like the coffee was that big of a deal to him. She could go to the vending machine down the hall and grab one during her break, or have someone else on their break do it for her if she needed it sooner.

“Can’t wait for our coffee date, Anne,” he says, winking at her before shoving his hands in his pockets and sauntering back down the hallway.

“Who is he?” her coworker, Jess asked, popping up out of nowhere. “He’s hot.”

“In more ways than one, apparently,” Anne jokes, “he’s also wearing my hot coffee on his shirt.”

“You didn’t,” Jess scolds her, turning her around to see the coffee that was spilled down Anne’s own outfit, knowing Anne’s tendency to be a little absent-minded as she gets wrapped up in her own thoughts. “Anne, you did.”

“Not on purpose!”

“DeFormicola?” Anne’s supervisor, Jackson, pops his head into the room just as she was clocking in, “We need you in room 414.”

“Saved by the bell,” Anne teases, walking down the hall to where all the noise was coming from, trying to throw on the appropriate clothing before she went into the room, struggling to get the gloves on as she entered.

“Ok, Erin, we’re going to need you to push,” one of the doctors says, Anne standing behind him as she watched the baby’s head crowning.

This was her favorite part of the job, helping the mother stay calm and trying to make sure that despite the child coming out of her, she was as comfortable as possible. Normally, she would be with the mom as soon as she came in, Erin clearly nervous as to what was going on. They had to be first-time parents, the dad going back and forth to Erin’s side and behind the doctor, looking mortified each time and clearly regretting what he was seeing.

“It’s a boy!” the doctor says, handing the new baby to a breathless Erin.

“A boy! A boy!” the dad yells, going out to the hallway, Erin clearly unamused by whatever antics he was going about.

“Don’t worry, he’s not the first one to do that,” Anne reassures her, knowing that something like that would happen at least five more times during her shift, hearing the father’s voice repeating the phrase. “I’m going to get him cleaned up and then get him right back to you, ok?” Anne asks, reaching for the baby as everyone else around her tries to clean everything else up.

“Be careful with him,” Erin warns, not meaning anything bad by it. She was definitely a first time mother.

“I will be,” Anne tells her, feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket as she does. “So you have a name picked out yet?”

“We were thinking Matthew.”

Anne turns her head, smiling at Erin. “That’s a good name. My older brother is named Matthew.”

Erin smiles at her, the father finally coming back in, clearly overjoyed by the birth of their new baby. Anne hands him back to his parents, Matthew screaming his head off as they get wheeled into another room.

Anne goes over to the desk, sitting down where she was supposed to be for the start of her shift to do paperwork, but the uncertainty in the hour by hour of the schedule was not surprising. She pulls out her phone, ‘Maybe: Tyson’ coming up across her screen.

“He’s already texting me,” she alerts Jess whose head whips away from her computer to look over Anne’s shoulder at what message the mystery man could have sent her.

“He’s horny.”

“Jessica!” she squeals, wishing she was more shocked by what her friend had said. “Why is that always your first reaction to a boy sending a message?”

She shrugs, swiveling back to her own computer, “I’m normally right. What’s he saying?”

“He wants to know when he can buy me coffee.”

“Horny.”

“Enough.”

“You should date him.”

Anne turns to her, clearly unamused by Jess’s need to continue the conversation. “I don’t have to date anyone.”

Jess lets out a long sigh, Anne knowing that she was rolling her eyes. “I’m not saying you have to, I’m saying you should.”

“Ok, I don’t want to date anyone.”

“Oh, come on Anne,” Jess says, getting up and plopping herself on the desk in front of Anne, fiddling with the wire connecting the mouse to the rest of the computer. “You work in a maternity ward where people become parents every day, and you haven’t even thought of finding a man?”

“You don’t have a point,” Anne tells her, not making eye contact with her.

“My point,” Jess says, leaning over to block Anne’s view of her computer screen, “is that you can’t be single forever.”

“Says who?”

“Didn’t you tell me that you were named after the patron saint of the town your grandmothers were from?”

Anne rolls her eyes, knowing where this was going. It was going in the same direction that this conversation always went in when she had it with her mom every single holiday. “All four of us are named after the patron saints of the towns our grandparents are from.”

“St. Anne is the patron saint of child care, grandparents and mothers.”

“She’s also that patron saint of unmarried women, so your argument is invalid, as usual.”

Jess takes in a breath to say something, cut off by Jackson calling for Jess to go into one of the delivery rooms. “Just don’t say no because you think you have to be single,” she advises as she walks away.

Anne leans back in the chair, rubbing her hands over her face. “This is how Christmas is going to go, isn’t it?” she asks herself.

=============

December 25, 2021

The number of cars lining her parent's driveway meant that she was one of the last ones there, but knowing her aunts and uncles, she wasn’t the last one there. Her parents were the ones who did Christmas Day for her dad’s family, Christmas Eve being the anniversary of her mom’s mom’s death, and, on top of that, Teresa doesn’t talk to her family over some argument and grudge being held over their parent's house.

Scanning the cars, she didn’t see the one belonging to her brother Matthew, or his wife, Stephanie. “I’ll just leave Harper’s gifts in the car,” Anne mutters to herself, trying to juggle as many gifts as she could while also balancing the box of pastries her mom asked her to pick up for dessert.

Without a free hand to open the door, Anne did everything she could to ring the doorbell with her elbow, praying that someone would come to open the door before she dropped anything.

Her younger brother, Sebastian, opens the door, a disappointed look on his face. “What the fuck is all this for?” he asks, taking some of the bags from her arms to lighten her load.

“Merry Christmas to you, too,” she remarks, “Yours is still in my car if you’re wondering.”

“Did you have to get gifts for everyone?” he asks, Anne greeting her aunts and uncles on the way to the tree to put everything down for later.

“Well, it’s Hazel’s first Christmas," she explains, referencing their sister's youngest daughter, "So getting her something and not getting the other children something seemed wrong, and then Jessica took me shopping and kept saying things like ‘oh this would be perfect for Lucy,’ or ‘oh don’t have you an aunt who likes mystery novels?’ And everything went downhill from there.”

Sebby groans, walking with Anne back out to her car to retrieve the rest of the gifts, Anne still holding the box of pastries since they hadn’t made it to the kitchen yet. “Please tell me you didn’t get Aunt Lisa that Agatha Christie illustrated novel that the bookstore was selling.”

“Please tell me you didn’t get Aunt Lisa that Agatha Christie illustrated novel the bookstore was selling,” Anne laughs, Sebby nodding his head. “I got a gift receipt.”

“What did you end up getting Matthew?” he asks her. Anne had texted Sebby in panic on Black Friday, coming home from a day of shopping with Lucy that left her without a gift for Lucy’s twin brother.

Grabbing the rest of the gifts and handing them to Sebby, she closes the door to her car and starts to go back inside. “I found this ‘make your own wine’ kit that I think he would like. That way Steph doesn’t have to listen to him complaining about how the stuff she drinks is ‘too sweet.’”

“What about for me?” Sebby asks, nudging Anne with his elbow as they arrange the rest of the gifts in the already mountainous pile under the tree.

“Oh, I knew there was someone I forgot,” she says sarcastically, Sebby ripping the bow off one of her carefully wrapped presents and throwing it at her. “Ok, now I’m never getting you a gift again.”

Sebby laughs, helping his older sister off the ground. The two of them wander into the kitchen, slipping in unnoticed due to the sheer number of family members and noise that was filling the room. “Aunt Anne! Aunt Anne!” Harper and Skylar squeal in unison when her nieces spot her, hoping that either she or Sebby had grabbed Harper, Matthew, and Stephanie’s gifts. She didn’t think there was anything left in her trunk.

“Hey there, fireflies,” Anne greets them, bending down as they both kiss her on the cheek. “Guess what? Santa stopped by my place and left some gifts for you, but he made me promise that you two were really good today if you want to open them after dessert, ok?”

The two girls nod excitedly, bouncing up and down at Anne’s words. To still be young and believe in Santa, that must be nice.

“Hey, ma,” Anne finally finds her mother, putting down the box of pastries in front of her and kissing her on the cheek. “Upstairs or downstairs fridge?”

“It goes downstairs. Come on, I have someone I want you to meet,” her mother says, dragging you away from your aunts that had aggregated around her. They all had excited looks on their faces, something that instantly worried Anne as she followed her mother down the stairs with the box. She could hear Matthew and Lucy’s voices, knowing that her brother and sister’s wife and husband had to be down there with them, too. “Matthew told me about this friend of his who couldn’t make it home for Christmas,” her mother whispers before she got to the last step.

“Mom, no,” Anne says, already knowing where this was heading. “I told you: I don’t need a boyfriend.”

“But I don’t have a grandson,” her mom whines, shaking Anne’s hand in her own against her chest.

“How is that my fault?”

“If you just find a nice boy, and get married, I just know you’re going to be my child that has a boy.”

“Oh my god,” Anne groans, pushing past her to get to the fridge.

Teresa pulls Anne over to the couches where her siblings were, Lucy sitting on one with her feet in Jason’s lap, Jason’s hand lazily rubbing his wife’s shins. Matthew was on the other, Stephanie nuzzled against his shoulder, all four of them with a glass of wine and three bottles open. Next to Matthew was a guy sitting there awkwardly, straightening his back when he saw you while Sebby tried to contain his laughter as he sat on the floor. “Jeremy, this is my youngest daughter, Anne. Anne, this is Jeremy,” she introduces the two of them before running up the stairs.

“I do have a girlfriend, actually,” Jeremy says, “So I’m sorry.”

Anne and her siblings burst out laughing, Lucy pouring her sister a glass of wine. “If only this were the first time Ma tried to set Anne up with a guy who was seeing someone.”

“I even tried to tell her that but she didn’t listen,” Matthew adds. “It’s better than when she tried to set you up with Adam,” he says, referencing Lucy’s partner at their optometry practice.

“Yeah, his husband wasn’t too thrilled by that potential match,” Sebby says.

They all keep talking, Anne just sitting and listening to them reminisce about all the people their parents had tried to set her up within their desperate attempt for her to no longer be single. It didn’t help that the last time she listened to them about dating was Andy, the boy who cheated on her when they got to college. Apparently going to school half an hour from each other wasn’t enough for him to keep up their two-year relationship instead of shoving his tongue down multiple girls throats before doing god only knows what else.

“When do you think they’ll stop trying to set me up with someone?” Anne finally pips in, accidentally cutting off something Jeremy was saying as she stared at the wine she was swirling in the glass.

“When you get a boyfriend,” her siblings say in unison.

“I hate all of you for doing that,” she laughs. “But, seriously, why is it so important that I have a boyfriend?”

“Oh, you know your mother,” Jason says, putting his glass down on the floor. “She saw what Lucy and I had and then wanted that for all her children.”

Lucy playfully shoves him, kissing him as Anne and Sebby groan. “She just wants you to be happy, and to her and dad, happiness is marriage and a family.”

“Where am I going to meet someone if I go to work or here where they try to bring in non-single non-potential suitors?” she asks, looking over at Jeremy. “Sorry.”

He shrugs, not able to get a word in before Matthew starts, “What if you met someone at work like how Steph and I met?”

“Yeah because there are so many single men walking around the maternity ward,” she says, her phone buzzing in front of her. “What about you, though, Seb, how’s Collins?” Anne asks, changing the subject.

“Eh,” he shrugs, his eyes wandering to Anne’s phone screen, “I’m not sure we’re going to last to graduation.”

“What?” Lucy squeals, causing Jason to jump as she threw her legs out of his lap. “I thought you said she was ‘the one’?”

Sebby looks down at his glass, a stupid smirk on his face. “Nah, that changed. She doesn’t want me to go to law school in Boston, she wants me to stay here or move to California with her.”

“But the adventure of moving with your girlfriend to another state!” Matthew offers, Stephanie rolling her eyes.

“Matthew, not everyone needs adventure like you do, hon.”

Anne’s phone buzzes again, a reminder that she had a text waiting for her. Picking it up before Sebby can see who it is, ever the nosy little brother, she sees a message from Tyson popping up as they continue their conversation about Sebby’s love life and Anne’s lack thereof. . They had only been texting for a few days since their encounter at the hospital, but every time his name came up she couldn’t help but smile, lifting the wine glass to her lips to cover it in hopes of her siblings not noticing.

How’s your Christmas been so far?

A simple ‘eh’ as a response was all that she needed to send. It could be worse, but her mom trying to set her up with a guy with a girlfriend was definitely not something that made for a good Christmas. The only thing that could be worse is if their dad came home early from the flight he was on with a guy he picked up in whatever country he had to go to that prompted him to miss the holiday. Normal dads who had to travel would bring their kids back little trinkets or a postcard, but Anne wouldn’t put it past Tony to borderline kidnap someone from the plane he was flying and bring them home for Anne.

Tyson’s contact comes up again, an incoming call that prompted Anne to step away so she could answer it. “What’s up?”

“You said your Christmas was ‘eh.’ What’s going on?”

“It’s a long story,” she groans, pressing her back up against the fridge.

“Well, what if I have something that might make it better?” he flirts.

“Oh? Like what”

“What if I said I’m 100% free to buy you that coffee any time tomorrow, since I know you said you didn’t have work, and you can tell me about Christmas then?”

Anne hears her siblings laugh not ten feet away, praying that they couldn’t hear her conversation. Taking in a deep breath, she knew that her cheeks were turning pink at his words. “Sure, that sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow?” she asks, walking back over to join her siblings.

“I’ll text you details,” he tells her, hanging up.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy yells, interrupting their conversation. “Anne was talking to a boy.”

“What the hell? What makes you think that?” she asks.

“Your cheeks are red," Lucy says, prompting Anne to raise her hand to feel the heat radiating from her face, "Who else would you be seeing tomorrow?” her sister eggs on, her eyebrow raised since she knew she was right.

Anne tries to find her words, unable to think of a name that wasn’t a guy's name to blurt out.

“Is it Tyson?” Sebby asks, Anne’s unlocked phone in his hand.

“You jackass!” she yells, lunging at her brother to try to get her phone back.

Teresa’s footsteps sound down the stairs, her poking her head between the gap in the stair rail and the steps themselves, Anne and Sebby looking like a deer in headlights when they see their mom. “I was coming to say that dinner was ready, but what’s going on here?”

“Anne has a boy she wasn’t telling us about,” Sebby blabs, earning an ‘I’ll kill you’ look from Anne.

“Oh! Annie!” their mom squeals, running down the stairs to pick her up off the ground and hug her. “Why didn’t you tell us about him?”

“I, uh,” Anne starts, still not sure what to say.

“You have to bring him to New Year’s Day at Uncle Vince’s house,” she tells her, the rest of the siblings following Anne being dragged back up the stairs for dinner, her mom announcing that Anne had a boyfriend when she, in fact, didn’t.

=============

December 26, 2021

“So, are you going to tell me why your Christmas was only ‘eh,’ or am I going to have to guess?” Tyson asks, setting down two cups of coffee in front of them. Tyson had asked Anne to meet him at a small coffee shop that was within walking distance of her apartment, thankful that she didn’t have to drive through Denver on the day where everyone was returning anything unwanted, like her Aunt Lisa returning one of the copies of the Agatha Christie novel that her and Sebby each got her.

Anne groans, the images of last night’s dinner flashing through her mind. “Can we talk about something else, first?”

“Fine,” Tyson says, taking a long sip of the coffee, “What did you get for gifts?”

She raises her eyebrow at him, Tyson mirroring her expression except with a goofy grin on his face. Rolling her eyes, she starts listing off the stuff she got: “My parents got me a new attachment for my KitchenAid stand mixer since my younger brother, Sebby, broke it last time he was over and a voucher for a flight anywhere in the country like they do every year, um, some gift cards from my aunts and uncles, my nieces all did their best attempts at drawing a portrait of me, Sebby told me he was going to come over and make dinner for me, which scares me because he can’t cook, Matthew and his wife got me some books they thought I would like, and Lucy and her husband got me this bracelet,” Anne tells him, extending her arm out to show him.

“I have so many questions,” Tyson starts.

“I might have answers,” Anne tells him, raising her cup to him.

“How big is your family?”

“I’m the third of four, Lucy and Matthew are twins and are about five years older than me, then Sebby is a year younger than me. Lucy has two daughters and Matthew has one. My dad has two brothers; one older, one younger. The older one has three kids, the younger has two and then three grandchildren.”

“Mom’s family?”

Anne looks down at her coffee. “I’m the only one who talks to anyone on that side of the family. My mom and her brother got into a fight when their parents died over what was left to them. My uncle has two daughters and two granddaughters.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, looking between the coffee and Anne.

She shrugs, not really bothered by it at this point. “It’s whatever. I talk to them because I want to, so it’s fine. What other questions do you have, though?”

“The ticket voucher?”

“Yeah,” Anne laughs, “Our dad is a pilot with Southwest Airlines, so every Christmas they give us a voucher to fly anywhere we want. They say they want to make sure that we take time for ourselves, but I think Dad gets some sort of bonus for every voucher he buys.��

Tyson throws his head back laughing. It wasn’t that funny, but seeing him so happy, Anne couldn’t help but smile back at him. “What about you, what did you get for Christmas?”

“My mom and sister flew down and basically restocked my kitchen for me.”

“Ok, that’s a great present, though,” she says. “Where was your dad?”

The smile from Tyson’s face fades, not looking up at Anne. “I never knew him. My mom and grandmother raised me.”

“Oh, Tyson,” she says, reaching out for his hand. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.”

He shrugs, a forced smile on his face. “I wouldn’t trade it for anything, I don’t think. My mom and my grandmother are the reason I am who I am. I wouldn’t give that up or change it.”

The two of them sit there, Anne trying to think about how many times she helped deliver a baby when the father was nowhere to be found. She normally figured they were busy or just not in the delivery room, not being there all together was something she couldn’t even begin to imagine. “But enough about me. Why was your Christmas ‘eh’?”

“My family has it in their heads that I need a boyfriend,” she admits, Tyson smirking at her words. “And my brother saw your texts coming up on my phone and being the asshole that he is, announced that I was texting a boy, so now, I need to find someone to bring with me to my uncle’s house on New Year’s Day that I can pass off as you.”

Tyson gives her a confused look. “Why wouldn’t you just bring me?”

Anne sits there, a shocked look on her face. “Because they think ‘Tyson’ is my boyfriend, and you aren’t?”

“So we pretend. They don’t need to know,” he shrugs, acting like it was no big deal.

“That would never work,” Anne dismisses him.

“Why not? You don’t think I’m a good actor?” Tyson whines, acting insulted at Anne’s words.

She scoffs, “Ok, one, hockey players are never good actors, and two, Sebby or Lucy are bound to figure out that you are not my boyfriend. Sebby wants to be a lawyer so he analyzes everything and Lucy is just this perfect anomaly of a human who would be bound to figure it out.”

“I think I can play your boyfriend for New Year’s Day,” he says, confidence dripping in his voice.

“No, I can’t have you do that.”

The maternity ward where Anne worked never ceased to be hectic, the miracle of life happening at least once an hour. No matter how much Anne had studied in nursing school, nothing could have prepared her for the stress that could come from thhe job, the long hours, the potential for something so right to turn so wrong in a minute, the way nothing can go planned since the baby dictated all, the mess that comes with every birth, or the joy that results from a former patient sending her the occasional picture of a baby she helped deliver as they’re growing up.

#tyson jost #tyson jost imagines #tyson jost fic #tyson jost oc fic #colorado avalanche #avalanche #nhl #colorado avalanche imagine #avalanche imagine #nhl imagine #hockey #hockey imagines #tyson and anne

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dreamsclock · 2 years

Text

hey i don’t get sappy a lot (<- lying) but i just wanna say thank u to everyone who made the past year so memorable. we gained over 2k followers here which is crazy !! dreamsclock rlly kicked off in february 2021 so it’s kind of insane we did so much this year :))

i posted my first dsmp fic last december and since then i’ve posted over thirty, which we made a strong start on this year and will finish next year !!!! i wrote 300k words and we FINISHED speculum + a place to call home + only have one chapter left of checkmate, which i can’t wait to finish. on top of that, we all did a dreblr secret santa which was Amazing to see everyone’s hard work and creativity — AND HEY, WE SURVIVED THE DISCOURSE !!!!!

some of the most memorable parts of my dreblr year:

sunny’s prison counter fic with a whopping 200+ chapters

moss’s horrific prison cat post . (/lh)

everyone mistaking my username for Not Dreamsclock .

C!DREAM BREAKING OUT OF PRISON!!!

NAT GETTING A DREAMFANART FOLLOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!

….

okay i’ll mention it . “the only universal language is language.”

JOKES ASIDE, i just wanna thank everyone for the year i’ve had. things have been super super rough this year for me and dreblr / tumblr has been such a bright spot in my life. i won’t tag people because im scared of missing people out (Adhd Brain 😻) and i don’t think i Could tag everyone who’s made my year amazing anyway ?? there are so many and if you’ve ever interacted with me, either as a friend or on anon, either once or every day, either with a prompt or compliment re: writing or Joke or Threat (/lh) or something random, just know that i appreciate it more than i can say !! i love memeing around on this blog and generally doing bits and never really being serious but from the bottom of my heart thank you :] it may sound silly but you all inspire me and keep me motivated to write / stay positive, and i really appreciate that !!!

what’ll the new year look like for sparrow dreamsclock ?? WHO KNOWS !! definitely streaming, definitely more writing. HOPEFULLY more analysis if/when we get more lore. more memes and more dumb jokes and more funny bits because i make Being Dumb part of my personality and im proud of it >:) Hopefully i’ll do really well this year at uni, hopefully i’ll write my own books and finish my fics, hopefully i’ll finally finish editing that video and get it out — im p confident in myself !! nothing to lose anyway :))

but ANYWAY !! don’t want this to get too long (it already is) but BASICALLY thank you for everything. this year has been EPIC and it couldn’t have been so good W/o all of you. im really looking forward to the new year and can’t wait to see what amazing things we’re all gonna do :))

dreblr is amazing, thank you for making me smile every day

LOTS OF LOVE!

SPARROW DREAMSCLOCK

#> posts !!#HAPPY NEW YEAR !! ! !!

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shuahoonie · 3 years

Text

holidays with tom [tom holland]

PAIRING: tom holland x female!reader

SUMMARY: life isn’t exactly back to normal. with another lockdown in place and the holiday season is vastly approaching, you and tom are stuck in quarantine with each other the problem? there was supposed to be at least 5 of you in that house and tom is the last person you want to be with. shouldn’t be too bad right?

WARNINGS: in no particular order swearing—err foul language lmao, sexual innuendos, things get heated but not that much??? exuding sexual tension but also fluff??? alcohol consumption, a series of bad decisions??? idk writing this made me experience the 5 stages of grief tbh lmao it’s not that bad I promise lmao

WORD COUNT: 6.9k!

A/N: hello and happy new year! I was supposed to post this during Christmas Day but guess who got into a writing rut—yet again. I didn’t want to abandon this because I actually had fun writing it. I hope you all had a festive and safe holiday. I know things have been hard but I still hope you guys enjoyed the holiday.

2020 has finally came to an end and we’re all ending it the same way when the pandemic started—staying at home, hopefully following the appropriate health measures. I can only hope that 2021 is a brighter and hopeful year for all of us.

stay safe, sending u all my love.

gif credits: @underoos-shield

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Two hours. It’s been two hours since you found out that you were going to spend your holidays alone. You were aware that you weren’t going to spend your holidays with your family as you normally would, embracing the fact that working in a different country whilst in the middle of a pandemic was going to be challenging.

Working in the film industry, constantly visiting sets while still living in a pandemic means that you threw away your chances of being home for the holidays. However, you weren’t entirely the only one who shares a similar struggle.

“We should still do something for Christmas, you know,” Tom muttered as he watched you lay down on the sofa, your head is supported by the armrest.

See—it should’ve been you, Ophelia, Alex, William, and Tom in that AirBnB, not just you and Tom.

The five of you reside abroad, however, you all had to fly to Los Angeles for work. You all collectively knew that it would be irresponsible to fly home for the holidays and it wouldn’t make any sense as you would all fly back for work anyway.

The five of you had a brilliant idea of renting an AirBnB for the holidays since you were all in each other’s personal and work bubble anyway. Obviously, the three of them bailed as they’ve decided to stay with their partners instead, leaving you and Tom alone—which is the last thing you’ve wanted.

“There’s just us two, Tom,” You replied as you sent a lengthy text to Ophelia, telling and reminding them about what happened between you and Tom. “I’m not entirely sure if it’s worth anything if we did plan on doing something remotely festive.”

There are four more days till Christmas and if you were being honest, the last time you felt festive was on the 18th of December...of 2019.

“Surely there’s something we can do, right?” Tom’s optimism still shined beneath him. “This year has already been shitty enough, we don’t need to feed more into that.”

The three dots bubble immediately popped up on your message thread with Ophelia as soon as you sent your passive-aggressive rant. Your focus was now on your phone.

Suddenly, Tom’s face appeared on top of yours—his face was definitely close enough that it’s not CDC approved. He was standing on side of the sofa, both of his palms planted against the armrest as he loomed over you.

“What do you and your family do during Christmas?” He dared to ask as if he wasn’t towering over you.

Your eyes nearly popped out of their sockets. “Uh—give each other personal space?” You answered out of sheer reflex. You always had a problem with keeping your mouth shut, especially when it sounds rude to other people. In your defence, being unable to do so has helped you put people back in place.

To be fair, you were used to people standing at least 6 ft away from you ever since the pandemic started.

Tom’s cheeks went bright red. “’m sorry,” He apologized, giving you a shy smile and scratched the back of his neck. You muttered a quick apology too, for acting so rashly.

You rose from your position and sat upright instead. “Well, we never do anything special during Christmas,” You said as you threw your hair into a bun. “We usually just go to the movies on Christmas Day because that’s the only thing you can do back when life was normal.”

Tom nodded understandingly as if he was taking this into account. Now you were curious.

“Do you guys do anything special for Christmas?” You asked him.

“Well, on Christmas Day, we would usually just lounge around the house and use it as a chance for me and my family to catch up,” Tom replied. “However, on Christmas Eve, my mum always made sure my brothers and I would have this scavenger hunt to look for our gifts—It’s really fun, actually.” Tom smiled sadly.

You could easily see how Tom was genuinely broken about not being able to be around his family over the holidays. Heck—he really just misses his family. But who wouldn’t? Britney Spears didn’t sing the line “my loneliness is killing me” for nothing.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say. Aside from biting your tongue, being able to easily comfort people was one of your weaknesses too.

“Oh, there’s nothing to be sorry about, darling.” Tom quickly dismissed the genuine heartbreak he was trying to hide. “We’re all making sacrifices and we chose to be responsible for the benefit of other people.”

“Yeah, I know.” You said softly. “We’ll just try our best to make something out of this holiday season. I mean—we have to or else we’ll welcome 2021 with a fresh face of misery.”

“I’m sorry!” Ophelia pouted at the screen as they mindlessly walked around their partner’s place, something that most people do when they’re on the phone with someone. “I genuinely forgot about what happened between you and Tom.”

“Well, Ollie, it seems like you weren’t the only one.” You replied, adjusting your glasses. Tom seems to be genuinely fine around you, no awkward tensions or anything. If anything, it’s just you who feels weird around him. “But I guess that’s a good thing right?”

Ophelia forced a smile but they couldn’t, for the life of them, say anything about it.

“Oh my god,” You sighed “Seriously, Ollie?”

“It’s just—how could he forget?! You were literally on top of him as I recall and that very much left a permanent image on my mind. I—You know, I really tried my best to forget that ever existing in my mind. So really, if anything, it’s your fault.” Ophelia rambled on.

“I—I wasn’t on top of him. That’s absurd! I was merely pressed against him” You said defensively, in which Ophelia just laughed atrociously. “Why am I friends with you again?!” You asked rhetorically, bewildered by the fact that you two lasted this long.

“First of all, that is a hate crime. Second, I’m cool—like everyone wants to be my friend and you should be glad that I gave you the privilege to be even on a nickname basis as me.”

You rolled your eyes at them. Despite the never-ending banter, you were grateful to have Ophelia as your friend.

“But seriously, Y/N,” Ophelia said, “You can always just stay with me and Ericka. She’ll be glad to have you over for the holidays.”

“Ollie, as much as I love spending time with you two—I can’t stand being a third-wheel, especially when it comes to the both of you. You two are inseparable when you’re together.” You replied. “I appreciate the offer though.” You smiled at her.

“I’m just saying—” Ophelia replied, shrugging her shoulder. “Unless you and Tom really want to have the house by yourselves.” They sang teasingly.

“Ophelia!” You gasped.

“What?” They feigned innocence. “I gave you an option to stay with us! Plus, I know Alex and Will are would’ve asked you to stay with them if they had any idea what happened between you two.”

“I can’t leave him!” You started to whisper “Tom seems genuinely bummed being here. I can’t just do that to him.”

It’s as if a light came on inside them. Ophelia started to smirk and you recognized that smirk from anywhere. For christ’s sake, their eyes twinkled like Christmas lights. It drove you nuts. “I fucking knew it.”

“What?”

“You like him don’t you?!” They teased, but all you could do was blush.

“I do not!” You denied it as you could still feel the burning heat emitting from your cheeks.

“His tongue is that good huh?” Ophelia decided to pry even further. They clearly find enjoyment as you squirmed your way out of this conversation.

“Bitch, I am ending this call.” That was all you could say. Even if you did find a smart retort, it was no use, especially with Ophelia. They can see right through you and there’s no point in trying to hide it.

“Honestly, Y/N, we’re living through a pandemic. If there’s any time to make any rash decisions, it’s now. Go get that dick, bih—”

You drowned out whatever Ophelia was trying to say with your goodbyes and proceeded to end the call. The one time you asked your friend to be serious and they come up with this.

So—what really happened with you and Tom?

It was two years ago. You were at a party that you didn’t even plan on attending. However, you were dragged by Ophelia and their partner, Ericka—your new friends in the area. You couldn’t say no to them, they were your first friend in LA!

You thought about it though, saying no. But when you got a message from your friend back in Canada sending a photo of your boyfriend ex-boyfriend (the same guy who had ghosted you ever since you moved to LA), swapping spits with another girl, you suddenly had the strong urge to drink until you die of alcohol poisoning.

You were burning with anger that you really felt tears pricking your eyes. You were so close to crying or punching someone—whichever comes first.

One thing’s for sure, though, you weren’t going to cry over a man. So what did you do? “Ophelia, where’s the booze?!” You asked your friend whose eyes nearly popped out of their head.

Well, you weren’t really going to punch a stranger. Though you felt this burning sense of violence, it’d be much more satisfying to punch the living daylights out on your ex.

“Y/N, honey, are you alright?” That line always puts on the waterworks, no? Ophelia was clearly concerned about your newfound thirst for alcohol.

You furiously wiped the tears off your face. “Um just found out my boyfriend—er ex-boyfriend, who stopped talking to me as soon as I moved here, is seeing someone else now? I don’t know, am I allowed to feel angry when I don’t even know if we’re still together as soon I moved? Fuck—” You tried to explain as you wiped every tear that left your eyes.

“Oh—of course, hon.” Ericka who handed you a drink. You weren’t exactly sure what it is, but you knew it has alcohol in it and that’s all that matters. You gulped the entire thing and you wanted more. “Y/N, you need to slow down.”

“Are you sure you want to stay? I mean we can crash at our place, eat take-outs, watch movies and be totally disconnected from the world.” Ophelia suggested, but you shook your head furiously.

“No, I—I’m ok.” You answered “I can’t let the both of you be stuck in misery with me. I need this. I’ll get drunk and if I'm up for it, I’ll hook up with someone. It’s not a healthy coping method but I really want this night to be a series of bad decisions. I don’t want to be myself, even just tonight.”

So that’s what you did. You were going from one drink to another in record time. Both Ophelia and Ericka kept an eye on you, just in case someone tried to take advantage of your drunken state.

You were talking to some guy you met in the kitchen, one thing led to another and next thing you knew, you were making out with this dude in someone’s bathroom. Ophelia and Ericka were drunk enough to pester the guy you were making out with but not drunk

As you were propped on top of the sink and your legs wrapped around his waist, you felt every bit of his lips explore the side of your neck as his hands explored every inch of your body. With his hand under your shirt and his fingers tracing every part of your skin, it just reminded you of how lonely you were.

Here you were, a thousand miles away from home, all alone just so you could do the one thing you really love. Your family would sometimes call to check up on you but it just wasn’t the same. Your ex tried to guilt you into staying in Canada, but you couldn’t do that. You love what you do and you love yourself too.

You were willing to risk everything, even if happiness came at a price.

Now you were crying, and the guy you were making out with definitely noticed.

“I’m sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asked as he pulled down your shirt.

“No—no, I’m just—” You tried to calm yourself down. “I’m not sure if I want to do this anymore.”

“That’s alright,” He mumbled wiping the tears off your face. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem rattled.”

“It’s just I’m so tired of pretending everything is alright—that I’m okay being alone, that I don’t need anyone. But it’s just so hard because I’m—” You sobbed “I’m so fucking lonely. I’m so tired of being alone.”

The guy tucked the stray piece of hair behind your ears as he carefully wiped your tears with his thumb. He was just silent as he listened to you sob.

“I’m sorry, I know you definitely didn’t come to this party to watch a complete stranger cry over something stupid.” You couldn’t even look him in the eye, you were embarrassed as this was the first time you felt really vulnerable—especially in front of a stranger.

“No, you’re alright.” He tried to console you “I think that’s the beauty in strangers, no? You can act and do whatever you want in front of them because there’s a slim chance you’ll ever see them again.”

You were definitely drunk enough that trying to make sense of who the person was a struggle enough of itself. You tried your best to look at the guy but your vision was getting hazy and you could feel your head thumping that focusing made you feel like you want to crack your head in half.

A loud knock on the door caused you two to jump. “I’m coming in,” Ophelia yelled and opened the door. Ophelia looked at the guy for a while, trying to make sense of who he was before their eyes widened. “I remember now—You’re Tom Holland.”

Imagine your surprise when you found out that you were going to work with Tom Holland for a while. You tried your best to avoid Tom at work but of course, that didn’t work out. He never brought up what happened between you two and you assumed he probably forgot all about it.

You tried to rationalize that he meets a lot of people every day. Surely, one failed hook-up wasn’t worth remembering (especially with alcohol involved) and you held on to that.

At least that’s what makes you sleep at night and also one of the reasons why you considered spending the holidays with him. However, you were also expecting your crew friends to stay with you and not just Tom.

“Y/N, did you like the gift? It’s from me and Ericka!” Ophelia asked. It was the next day and you two were just chatting on FaceTime. You were sorting out your closet out of sheer boredom. You figured if you were going to stay here for three weeks, the least you could do was sort your clothes out.

You stared at the neatly wrapped box that Ophelia and Ericka dropped off earlier this morning. “I haven’t opened it yet.” You said as you showed them the box. “I wanna open it till Christmas.”

“Oh my god, just open it. Christmas doesn’t exist this year, babe.” Ophelia waved their hand, encouraging you to open it.

“Fine,” You gave in. You opened the box and saw a very lush and well-made lingerie set. “Ophelia, what the fuck” You gasped. You held out the lingerie in front of the camera.

“Y/N, I definitely outdid myself this time.” Ophelia sighed happily, staring at the screen. “Try it on!”

“Ollie, this is gorgeous but when am I ever going to use this?” You asked holding it out on your body and looking at the mirror.

“Uh—you’re stuck at home with your failed but also potential hookup,” Ollie suggested, wiggling their eyebrows. “Who knows what might happen?”

You rolled your eyes at them. “Bold of you assume that something might happen.”

“Something won’t happen if you don’t try that one,” Ophelia said. “C’mon, I wanna see.”

You shook your head and went out of frame in order to strip off your clothes. You tried on the lingerie—it’s a black lace teddy with a very exposing back. IT fit you perfectly—it accentuated your figure and definitely showed off your boobs. You weren’t really fond of showing off your body but you still tried your best to show it to your friend.

“What do you think?” You asked, stepping back to the frame.

“You look gorgeous, babe!” Ophelia squealed. “I knew I made the right choice with black.”

“I still don’t know where I should wear this though—” You were stopped mid-sentence when your door swung open.

“I know what we’re doing this—Oh shit. I’m so sorry,” Tom stood there, frozen, his eyes widened and immediately shut the door.

You couldn’t even say anything. You were frozen in shock.

“Was that Tom?” Ophelia asked from the call, briefly forgetting that you were talking to them through FaceTime.

You nodded slowly, unable to talk.

“What did he think?” Ophelia asked excitedly.

You snapped out of this haze. “Ollie,” you groaned. “I think he was mentally scarred.

“What do you mean scarred? You look great!” Ophelia said, appalled. “If he doesn’t think you look banging in that lingerie then it’s his loss.”

“I gotta go, I need to change.” You said, bidding Ophelia goodbye. “Thanks for the gift, Ollie. Tell Ericka thanks too.”

You ended the call and changed into comfier clothes. You couldn’t help but wonder how on earth you’re going to face Tom now that he’s seen you practically naked. Well, it’s not like that’s a new sight. He did see you with your bra on when you were making out in the bathroom that one time. But still!

Are you actually going to spend your Christmas in your room?

It was the next day and there are only two more days till Christmas. You spent the entirety of last night in your room after the incident between you and Tom.

You were about to make yourself some coffee when you found Tom in the kitchen, making tea for himself. You stood there frozen, wondering if you were going to proceed to the kitchen or just run back to your room since Tom hasn’t noticed you—

“Oh—good morning, Y/N.” So close.

You smiled at Tom and said, “Good morning, Tom.”

You grabbed a coffee pod and waited for the Keurig to make your coffee. You leaned back against the counter and fiddled with your phone—all in the hopes that things move quickly and for this awkward tension to be over.

Honestly, why were you so worked up about it? People have seen you in a bikini before and that’s no different from lingerie. If anything, lingerie is itchier and has lace. You should be able to feel confident in your own body and you shouldn’t have to mind what other people think of it. It’s yours alone and it’s your opinion that should matter—

“I’m terribly sorry about last night, Y/N.” Tom apologized, sincerity was written all over his face. “I should’ve knocked and I just got so bloody excited about what we can do over Christmas—but that’s no excuse for what I’ve done. What I did was incredibly intrusive and you deserve a proper apology.”

“Tom, I—”

“I wanted to apologize last night—over dinner—but you didn’t come down to eat, so I figured you didn’t want to talk. “ He rambled on.

“Tom—”

“But even then I should’ve asked you to come down and eat dinner because that’s what any decent human would do! And yet I didn’t. God—I’m just doing one wrong thing after another—”

“Tom, listen to me.”

“Hm?” He finally snapped out and looked at you in the eyes.

“It’s okay. It was an honest mistake and you sincerely apologized, and for me, that’s enough.” You smiled softly at him. “So—what’s this thing you planned over Christmas?”

“I was thinking we could do both our family traditions over the next two days. My family and I usually do a roast dinner and open our Christmas stockings on Christmas Eve. Then on the 25th, we can watch movies all day just like you do with your family.” Tom grinned, clearly satisfied with his plan. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s a great idea,” You smiled “However, I don’t think we have any ingredients for a roast dinner and we don’t really have Christmas stockings. Well—I don’t have any Christmas stockings and stocking stuffers.”

“That’s true,” Tom mumbled “But I have to do the food shopping anyway. We’re running low on food and I couldn't really book one of those online delivery things that most groceries now offer.”

You nodded. “Okay, so I guess I have to get the house sorted then.”

When you two first arrived in this AirBnB a few days ago, it had already been decorated for Christmas. It had a massive tree in the living room decorated with stunning and intricately-themed ornaments. Christmas garlands were wrapped around the stair-bannisters and foliages were placed by the fireplace and the tables.

All you really had to do was clean the place—do a bit of vacuuming and get things nice and neat for Christmas. It didn’t take you too long to do it too. It had only been a couple of minutes since Tom left to do the food shopping and you prayed to the gods that he doesn’t get too much attention whilst out.

You figured you might as well do some last-minute shopping while Tom was out, so you can grab gifts for him as well. After all, this whole thing was orchestrated by Tom and you don’t even have anything to give him for his stockings.

You arrived at your AirBnB a tad later than Tom. He was in the kitchen putting things away when he saw you walk through the door.

“Ah, I was wondering whether I spooked you with my plan,” Tom commented, making you chuckle and roll your eyes.

“Trust me, I would’ve made it very obvious if you did.” You replied, earning a laugh from Tom. “I went out to do my last-minute shopping. Granted, it’s not ideal since we’re still living through a pandemic, but there’s not actually that many people where I went to considering it’s the Christmas rush.”

You made sure to hide the stuff you bought using the handmade tote bags that a friend gave you for your birthday. No retail bags, no clue. “How did you survive the groceries? I bet it’s busy out there.”

“Yeah, it was.” Tom chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Remind me to never do that again for Christmas.”

“Sure,” You said, “That is if I spend another Christmas with you.” You said jokingly, hoping that Tom didn’t find that rude.

“You’ll never know,” Tom shrugged. “What if you liked our Christmas this year and you’d be begging to spend Christmas with me and my family in London,” Tom smirked, playing along.

“Yeah, right.” You scoffed playfully, crossing your arms. “If anyone’s begging, it’s going to be you.”

Tom stepped closer, “Wanna bet?” He whispered, a teasing look in his eyes. “Whoever has the most fun during our respective holiday traditions would have to spend the holidays with them next year.”

“Oh, you’re on, Holland.” You took a step closer. “We will both film our holidays for the entire two days and then we’ll ask Ophelia, Alex, and Will to vote whoever looks like they had the most fun.”

“Okay,” Tom nodded “But no editing! We’ll give them raw footage so there are no chances of tampering.”

You laughed but you agreed anyway. “Of course, we’ll give them hours of footage. The least we could do is make them sit through hours of content after they ditched us all alone on the holidays.”

Tom gave a broad smile. “Let the festivities begin.”

It was the 24th of December—Christmas Eve. You spent the entirety of last night wrapping Tom’s presents for later. Not that you despise Christmas, but it’s been a while since you were actually excited to celebrate it. It was pretty clear that the magic of Christmas dies once you grow up.

Today was different; you were looking forward to whatever Tom has installed for tonight.

You went downstairs to make some breakfast only to be greeted by Tom blasting Christmas music and preparing some ingredients for breakfast in the kitchen.

“Good morning, Y/N, happy Christmas Eve,” Tom greeted with a huge grin. “Say, hi to the camera.”

“Oh, we’re starting this early, huh?” You asked, putting your hair into a loose ponytail.

“Why of course, we have to make the best out of this,” Tom said, holding the camera to your face. “I made you coffee.” Tom handed you a cup of coffee.

“Are you using my love for coffee as an advantage?” You tried to hide your smile while drinking your coffee.

“Obviously not,” Tom feigned his innocence. “I obviously did not know you were obsessed with coffee—it’s not like I don’t see you on set without one.” He mumbled in which you definitely heard, giving him a smack on the head. “Ow! I’m kidding.” He laughed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “So, what’s for breakfast?”

“We’re going to make french crèpes,” Tom replied and propped the camera on the kitchen island, facing the two of you.

“Do you know how to make french crèpes?” You asked, washing your hands.

Tom blinked, almost trying to decide whether he wants to be honest or impressive. “Do you know how to make french crèpes?” He returned the question.

“Oh honey, my mom resents me in the kitchen.” You replied, taking a sip from your coffee. “But you know, I manage.” You murmured.

“That’s giving me a lot of hope, darling, thank you.” He said half-heartedly.

“Shut up,” You nudged him playfully, rolling your eyes. “Tom, honestly, most of the footage is just us bantering for 20 minutes.”

“To be fair, that’s part of the fun.” Tom smiled. “Okay, I think you just mix all of these in a bowl. Start with the dry ingredients first.” He said, looking at the recipe on his phone.

“Okay, that shouldn’t be too hard,” You commented pouring the ingredients into the bowl. As you started all of the ingredients together, you noticed small lumps forming in the batter. “Tom, did you sift the dry ingredients by chance?”

“You were supposed to sift it?” He asked, completely clueless.

You nodded slowly. Panic was now clearly painted on his face. “I’m sure we’ll be fine.” You tried to reassure him.

It was not fine. The first time you two tried to pour the batter in the pan, you burnt the entire thing. It’s not even the cute, lightly burnt crepe. It was activating the smoke alarm-burnt crepe.

The next one was pancake-like. The next one after that had pocket flours on the crepes because you two didn’t sift your dry ingredients beforehand. You ran out of the batter when you two finally got the consistency right—you managed to get one proper crepe from the entire batter.

“I feel like Sam would probably curse me out as soon as he finds out I fucked up a simple crepe,” Tom said, delicately filling the crepe with creme and berries. “My brother’s done so well in culinary school.” He cut a piece with his fork and brought it to your mouth.

“Well, you can’t have everything.” You said taking a bite out of the crepe. “This is better than the last one.”

Tom nodded, taking a bite of it himself. “It’s not as tasty as Sam’s but I’ll take it.”

“Now, I’m curious as to what your brother’s cooking tastes like.” You commented taking another bite from the crepe.

“I guess I’ll just take you home to London to find out,” Tom teased with an annoying grin.

“As long as I’m being fed, I’m fine with it.” You remarked. What in god’s name are you are you two playing?!

The day rolled by very quickly. It was already evening when you finished wrapping the presents for your friends. You plan on dropping it off tomorrow before you persuade Tom to glue yourselves on the couch for the entire day.

You grabbed all of Tom’s gifts—Christmas stocking included— when you went downstairs, only to be greeted by someone yelling at Tom through his phone.

“I did everything right, Sam. I don’t know why you’re yelling.” Tom yelled back at his phone. His back was turned against you as he was putting away the pots and pans that he used.

You quietly walked up behind him and said calmly, “Why are you yelling?”

Tom probably jumped six feet away from you, making you laugh. You always forget that he gets scared easily. “Holy shit, don’t scare me like that, Y/N.” Tom breathed out, putting a hand over his chest.

“I’m sorry,” You said whilst laughing. “I promise I won’t do it again.” Tom rolled his eyes, murmuring something about you being insincere about it.

“Please do it again!” You heard, whom you assume is Sam, say from the background. You looked at Tom’s phone that’s propped on the island and saw his brothers on FaceTime.

You beamed at them. “Any recommendations?” You asked, hearing Tom groan behind you.

“Well, he hates—”

“This is the last thing I want in 2020, for my brothers and Y/N to conspire against me,” Tom said loudly on purpose, drowning his brothers' voices.

“Tom, don’t be rude. Let your brothers finish—” Tom put his hand against your mouth.

“I’ll call you guys later,” Tom said “Wave goodbye, Y/N.” He used his free hand to grab your hand and forced a wave towards his brothers. The call soon came to an end and you could only roll your eyes at Tom. You seem to do that a lot around him. You also do a lot of that when you try to hide your feelings towards a person you like but that’s beside the point.

“So are we going to have dinner first or are we going to do presents first?” You asked fixing your Christmas sweater, a gift from your parents since you and your family usually wear matching sweaters for Christmas. “Or are you the type to wait until Christmas Day to open presents?”

“We can do the Christmas stockings after dinner tonight, then do the presents tomorrow, if you’d like,” Tom answered with his arms crossed.

You shrugged, telling him it doesn’t matter since you don’t really go all out on Christmas. Your family on the other hand—the house is always full of people, especially since most of your extended family are usually around during the holidays. You had this ongoing game you made for yourself whether or not you’ll be able to greet everyone with the number of people in the house.

You could only guess how quiet your family’s Christmas is going to be. You definitely needed to call your parents later.

“Is the sweater that itchy, Y/N?” You heard Tom ask, breaking away from your thoughts.

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You didn’t even notice that you’ve been scratching yourself subconsciously.

“You’ve been scratching yourself since I saw you.” Tom said, chuckling. “It’s a cute sweater on you.”

You smirked. “That reminds me—I got something for you, Tom.” Tom raised his brow as you grabbed the bag you stashed behind the tree. “Actually my parents got this for you. A little thank you gift apparently for having the tolerance to stay with me over the holidays—as if you had a choice.” You mumbled the last part.

Tom curiously opened the bag and there revealed a matching sweater such as yours. This year’s sweater was green and had red tinsel all over it, probably the reason why you’re itchy. The real kicker is that—

“No way,” Tom gasped “It lights up?!” He asked laughing. It lights up.

“Yeah, I don’t recommend turning that on. I did it earlier and I’m pretty sure I was about to combust—it’s a real fire hazard.” You replied, enjoying the genuine joy that Tom is showing on his face.

“Oh but we have to turn the lights on when we take pictures,” He commented as he put on the sweater. “Thanks, Y/N.” He said softly, surprising you with a hug.

It’s the first real physical contact that you two had ever since that night when you made out and you were pretty adamant that people were just making up this notion of having butterflies in their stomach—they weren’t.

Tom’s roast dinner went surprisingly well. You kept teasing him that it’s Sam that you had to thank because you knew that Tom wouldn’t last in the kitchen without his brother’s instructions. Tom pouted the whole time. You eventually had to tell him

“It was sweet.” You told him as you helped him clear out the plates.

Tom was confused.

“I don’t think I’ve known someone that went through hell and back just to make a great effort Christmas dinner —even if it means getting yelled at by your brother.” You said, smiling softly at him. “I mean it’s just us two, really. We don’t even have to do this.”

“Think that’s the reason why I wanted to do it,” Tom replied. Now you’re confused. “It’s because it’s the two of us—that’s why I wanted to do it.”

As soon as you heard those words come out of Tom’s lips, you tried your best to stay calm. To say that you weren’t overwhelmed with emotions would be a huge lie. For someone who couldn’t hold their tongue, you were speechless. Tom’s giving you a run for your money and you weren’t exactly thrilled about it.

After dinner, you and Tom opened your stocking presents. The presents were pretty tame at the start—you both got each other socks, which was hilarious but greatly appreciated. You love socks, especially comfy and cushiony ones. You came to learn that Tom does too, which prompted you two to wear the socks immediately.

You got him candy canes, he got you chocolates. You also snuck in those small, in-flight alcohol bottles in there too—which he ended up loving. He got you those 10-pack skincare face masks, in which you let out a huge gasp, making him laugh.

“Oh, we have to use this at some point!” You exclaimed happily “Like, we need to have a spa night—where we just watch movies, doing face masks, eating takeouts. Oh, that’s the dream!” You sighed happily.

“We still have two weeks left till we go back to work, I'm sure we can find the time to do that,” Tom said with a permanent smile on his face, watching you with pure joy made him feel like he accomplished something big.

You got him one of those Instax polaroid cameras—true, it was a bit too much for a stocking stuffer especially since the box definitely stood out against the stocking, but you figured he’ll like it.

“Darling, this is too much but I’m thankful,” Tom commented as he took out the camera from the box. “I can’t wait to use this and keep memories using it—why don’t we start right now?! Let’s take a photo of us and our matching sweaters!”

Tom took a lot of photos of you two, in the end. A couple of overexposed photos, one with the matching sweaters, one with your faces pressed against each other, one with your faces way too close to the camera, and one where he gave you a kiss on your cheek (he asked if that’s okay, of course, you said yes. it’s not like he hasn’t kissed you before— still no conversations about that, by the way). It was a good thing you got him at least 3 boxes of those 20 pack films in his stockings as well.

The real kicker was Tom’s “small” stocking present for you. He got you this dainty, gold necklace with a crescent moon charm. You were pretty sure it was expensive because of the teal box it came with.

“Stop,” You gasped “Tom, now this—this is too much.” You stressed out. “I can’t have this. Nope, you have to return this.”

Tom shrugged as if it was nothing. “You deserve it. Darling, you deserve something nice after this shitty year.”

“Tom, I’m serious. This is too much.”

“I’m serious too, Y/N. Keep it, please. I’d be offended if you don’t.”

After the roller coaster of emotions due to the stocking presents, you gave your parents a call to wish them a merry Christmas. They insisted to do a video call because they wanted to see Tom in the family sweater—which your mom wouldn’t stop gushing about.

“I think your mum loves me,” Tom whispered closely in your ear. He didn't have to try too hard. With the laptop propped up on top of the coffee table, you two were sitting close together on the living room floor—knees touching, maximum close skin contact. CDC would never approve.

“Yeah, I think it’s the accent,” You mumbled jokingly.

Tom moved his head to take a good look at you, smiling. You could feel his eyes burning your skin. Why does he have to look at you like that? Why does he have to be this close?

The initial video call with your parents turned into a whole family reunion when you found out they set up a group call with your extended family. Imagine the dread and fear in your eyes when you heard your one aunt ask,

“Finally, Y/N, is that your boyfriend?”

Your eyes widened as you stuttered to say your defence, making Tom chuckle. You frowned at him and nudged him saying, “Don’t laugh, tell them no or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“No, unfortunately, I’m not,” Tom replied, laughing. “However, I do believe we make a cute couple, don’t we?” He teased, earning an earnest yes from your mom.

You could only wish for the floor to swallow you whole.

As the clocks rolled to twelve, it was officially Christmas. You and Tom figured you might as well start opening gifts again because Christmas Day is going to be a drag for the two of you.

“Okay, start with this.” You said as you handed him a gift bag. You didn’t give him a lot of gifts for the actual Christmas Day because you went all out on the stuffers.

“Pyjamas?” He asked with a grin. You made a signal for him to give you a minute. You ran to your room and changed into pyjamas.

“Not just pyjamas, Tom, but matching pyjamas!” You exclaimed, laughing. “I saw it and figured we should do this for my day.”

“Sick!” Tom laughed. Tom got into his pair of pyjamas as well and of course, he didn’t forget to pull out his new polaroid camera to take a photo of you two. “Shit, I forgot to film our entire Christmas Eve.” He said as he saw the camera that was still sitting on the kitchen island from earlier that morning.

You shrugged. “I’m pretty sure you’ll win either way. Just that content from the breakfast crepes was enough to secure your place.” You said jokingly.

“All I’m hearing is that you’re going to spend Christmas with me in London next year.” Tom sang teasingly.

“Yeah, maybe bringing you to our big Christmas holidays is a bad idea.” You wondered out loud.

“I like your family,” Tom commented with a smile “and I think they will love having me there for the holidays.”

“That would be a nightmare.” You mumbled to yourself.

The rest of the night dragged on. You and Tom finished the rest of your gifts—you got him a watch, he got you a vinyl player. You two managed to watch the first Harry Potter film before you called it a night.

You were about to head into your room when you heard Tom say, “Mistletoe.”

“Hm?” You hummed, confused. He placed a finger under your chin and gently tilted your head. There you saw a mistletoe hanging by one of the light fixtures.

“How did that even—”

“Can I kiss you?” Tom asked, cupping the sides of your face.

“Hm?” Tom was definitely giving you a run for your money. How can a girl with a speech turn speechless?

“Can I kiss you?” He asked more softly. All you could do was nod. For if you even dare to open your mouth, all of this would cease to exist.

His lips gently touched yours and then soon moulded into one. It was soft, sweet—familiar. His lips were something you never thought about—at least not a lot but you craved it. You crave his lips, his touch, him. You were riding a new high and you thanked every single god that you were sober to remember this—because this, this is something you want to cherish.

“You told me you’re tired of being alone,” Tom whispered against your lips. “You don’t have to be anymore. Not when you have me, not ever.”

PERMANENT TAGLIST: @quaksonhehe @dark-infernal-instruments @trustfundparker @emsma11 @tomshufflepuff @spider-babe @goodgirlgonetom

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x fem #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fluff #tom holland fic #tom holland blurb #tom holland and reader #tom holland and you #tom holland angst #tom holland imagines #tom holland x y/n #tom holland au #tom holland and y/n #tom holland x you #the girl writes i guess #txmhoellandwrites

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scintillasofbeomgyu · 3 years

Text

winter in itaewon || Choi Beomgyu

Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x gamer!fem!reader

Genre/s: Fluff; Angst; Humor (if you squint)

Word count: 5,0k

Warning/s: it is implied that reader was subject to violence (once); although it says the reader is a gamer, there are not that many references towards to actual gaming lmao; this was proofread like once (😭)

Hyunjin and Jeongin take Beomgyu out to the PC Room in Itaewon for his birthday; a year after their last visit. As he reminisces the events of the year before, every corner of his mind is revisited by her — as if he were capable of forgetting her anyway.

a/n: happy beomgyu day!!💞 the inspiration to write this hit me in the middle of the night, coming from these kickass headcannons by sumi, and it's completely different to the initial idea i shared with amie sksjsjs alsothislowkeysucks. nevertheless, i hope you all enjoy!!

12 March 2021, 23:30

Despite being embraced by his thick padded coat, the freezing air still managed to disrupt the warmth in annoying, sharp gusts every time the wind blew. Itaewon was always more alive while the rest of Seoul slept soundly, and tonight was no exception. The streets were aglow with the lambent signage of the many stalls and establishments which lined it’s pavements, and were filled with clusters of people who either visited the stores, window-shopped or were simply enjoying the night-life.

Beomgyu wasn’t very enthusiastic about joining Hyunjin and Jeongin when they had initially posed the idea. He’d been spending much of his time in the studio and practice room, so the plan was to get some sleep when he had some free time. His conscience eventually got the better of him, though – he hadn’t been able to meet up with his friends in months due to work and the pandemic, and his scheduled birthday live thwarted the possibility of holding it off until the following day.

“Are you good?” Jeongin asked, pulling Beomgyu out of his thoughts, arching a brow at his dazed friend. He noticed that he had been lagging behind the two of them, and that their features were now etched with concern. Beomgyu pushed the bangs out of his face before waving them off, mumbling that he’s okay.

There was a look in their eyes that Beomgyu couldn’t quite decipher, but pushed it off as nothing when Jeongin draped an arm over his shoulder and lead him further down the street. His feet stopped squarely when they made it to the PC Room, cementing themselves before the front door. Jeongin looked at Beomgyu and smiled.

“Are you coming in?”

It wasn’t that Beomgyu didn’t want to respond, he simply couldn’t. Sure, it may have seemed like a trivial thing to answer, the words just wouldn’t formulate coherent sentences – his mind didn’t have the capacity to make them. Her. That was the only thing it could manifest. Her.

The pressure of a years-worth of his bottled emotions had finally blew it’s top – thoughts, images and memories which had been ingrained into his subconscious coming forth to hit him like a train.

“We’ll wait for you inside, then.”

31 December 2019, 22:00

Laughter ringing through the air, Hyunjin, Jeongin and Beomgyu pushed open the door to the PC Room. Beomgyu stopped at the door while the other two signed in, arms rubbing away the remnants of snow on the arms of his black coat. Removing his mask, he smiled into the warmth of the heated building. Their schedules after debut had left no space for any recreation, so it was liberating to spend New Years Eve with his friends, doing what he does best.

“Ready to have your butts kicked?” Beomgyu cackled, with his whole chest, as they took their seats next to one another in the isle, earning him much-deserved glares. As soon as he’s logged on and the headset is donned however, his usually playful demeanour is replaced by one of a much calmer nature – studying the map, observing enemy tactics and carefully directing his support as his fingers glide skilfully across the keyboard.

Hyunjin groaned after the umpteenth attempt to beat him, dropping the headset onto the desk as Jeongin whined into his hands. A smirk rolled onto Beomgyu’s lips as he leaned back into the swivel chair, flashing his brows at them. “I refuse to believe this is possible, it’s got to be rigged!”

“Ah, after all this time I’ve still got it,” Beomgyu retorted, chuffed with himself for doing as well as he knew he would. Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “I mean, I wouldn’t be surprised if I ranked first with the amount of times I kicked ass on this server.”

Jeongin, who had taken it upon himself to do the fact-checking, smirked at the screen before calling the two of them over. “Actually–”

Beomgyu screamed in frustration, tossing the headset onto the desk before pushing against it, sending him flying across the floor in the chair. No matter how hard he tried, no matter the strategy he just couldn’t beat the player in first place. The commotion startled the other two, who had fallen asleep waiting for Beomgyu to finish up, the satisfaction of witnessing his losses long past.

“Just one more game, I swear!” he whined as they dragged him away from the PC screen.

Hyunjin seethed, “that’s what you said three hours ago! No, we’re leaving. Jeongin’s parents have been waiting up for us.”

Beomgyu huffed at the front counter. While the older took care of the bill, he found that the room was completely empty – almost. The light emanating from a desk directly across from where he stood, lit up the face of a young-looking girl. She seemed to be in high school (that’s what the uniform she wore indicated atleast) and the big, round, metal-framed glasses settled on the bridge of her nose, mirrored the computer screen. The sight pacified Beomgyu, for a reason he couldn’t quite explain, a smile stretching across his face.

He sauntered closer, eyes searching around for nothing in particular, trying not to look like a creep as he approached you. His smile only grew when he found her eyebrows knitted together, teeth biting down on her bottom lip in concentration. And then he saw it. The graphics reflecting from her glasses seeming all to familiar to him, he rushed around the desk, eyes darting to the top corner of the screen.

ID: winter996

12 January 2020, 22:30

Beomgyu’s foot tapped impatiently as he waited at the desk closest to the entrance, checking his watch every few minutes, before running a frustrated hand through his soft silvery locks. He had finally gotten the chance to visit the PC room again, most of his time having gone into practice and rehearsals for award show season, and he wasn’t leaving until he saw you again.

He ran out of the practice room as soon as he heard that they would have the following day off; he was exhausted and had been waiting for almost two hours – but he refused to leave until he saw you again.

The owner noticed the boy sitting at the desk he usually reserved for you, lips curling at the sight of the fidgety youth. He had visited on three prior occasions; once with his friends, and the remaining times himself, sitting in exactly the same spot he was now sitting. Instead of chasing him away as he did everyone else, he simply waited to see how this turn of events would unfold.

You pushed open the glass doors with a huff, adjusting the strap of your backpack on your shoulder before blowing the stray hairs from your face. Keeping your eyes fixed on the ground beneath you, you nod to the owner and he returns the gesture with a smile, although he knows you won’t see it.

Beomgyu, who had almost surrendered himself to the fatigue, sat up straight when you pulled back the chair next to him. He watched as you scrunched up your nose in attempt to push your glasses up the bridge of your nose before putting the headset on, and chuckled softly.

He watched in awe as you cleared level after level, climbing the ranks as you went along, with seemingly no effort whatsoever. You kept the mic off and communicated with your group though the chat, which was probably why he never realised you were a girl. Your strategy seemed way too complex for him to understand, and his amazement never faltered for even a second, as you dominated each and every position you played.

It was a little over an hour before you decided to take a break, wondering where the owner was since he usually brought your snacks around that time. Pushing the headset around your neck, you stretched upward to see where he was, only to find yourself roughly pushed back down and turned toward a strange boy whom you’ve never seen before.

His eyes, sparkling with absolute wonder, coaxed your surprise and made your heart race with a feeling as unfamiliar as he was.

“You have to tell me how you do that! Teach me, please, Winter996!”

25 January 2020, 22:30

“Aren’t you supposed to be at practice?” you voice rang from the speaker of Beomgyu’s phone. He never questioned your reasons for not turning your mic on during the game, but insisted that you speak directly to him instead. “On your left, be careful.”

“I know, I see them. And yes, but I have some time before the next session starts.” After much pestering, about something having to do with ‘senseis’ and ‘disciples’, you agreed to let Beomgyu play with you. He was rather beside himself when you told him you never really used any strategy, though; you ‘just did what felt right’.

An adorable smile had tugged at your lips during his three hundred-and-fifty paged slideshow about the importance of strategy and observation, one he would not soon forget.

“You could just wait until Itaewon.”

“Is it my fault you only go when your rank drops?”

Soobin’s dark head of hair popped into the studio, and he glared upon finding Beomgyu tapping away at his laptop on the sofa. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you! The break as been over ages ago–”

“(Y/n), (Y/n), go, go! I’ll cover you!”

“Beomgyu, I think–”

“You’re playing again?! With a girl?!”

5 February 2020, 22:00

You’re quieter than usual and Beomgyu noticed right away. Over the phone, you never had any qualms in conversating with him– when you were playing the game, atleast. The thought that it was because of him does cross his mind, but he catches the frown you’re desperately trying to hide, by biting the inside of your cheek.

A thick scarf is wrapped around your neck, your chin buried into the red woolly folds, and your hair frames your face, but he sees the light swelling on the side of your face and around your eyes that you’re trying to hide. The feeling in the pit of his stomach makes his nails press crescents into the palms of his hands, but he fights the urge to ask.

“Beomgyu! What are you doing! They’re coming!” you yell, pulling him back to reality, hearing the sound of your voice at long last calming him a tad.

“Right, sorry.”

You played together straight through into the early hours of the morning, sharing victory after victory, with him right by your side. You froze up when he instinctively pulled you into a hug upon your last win, gulping as he slowly removed his arms, laughing it off as his adrenaline high peaked higher.

The van’s horn blared outside, catching you both off guard. Beomgyu quickly grabbed his coat before making his way back up the way he came, but paused before he opened the door. Craning his head back to look at you once more, he smiled.

“I’ll text you later.”

12 February 2020, 23:30

Beomgyu’s hands move quickly across the controls, your voice shouting orders to him through the headset as the current game hit it’s climax. Playing with Beomgyu all the time had made you a lot more comfortable with engaging with the other members of your group, so although you were still pretty anxious at first, you made the decision to turn on your mic.

“We did it!” Beomgyu cheered as your team cleared yet another level.

Gaming was something mundane to you and winning was easy; but sneaking out to the PC Room from time to time helped alleviate the pressures of your personal life. The life which you would rather die than share with Beomgyu. But after being swayed by his nonsensical attempts at convincing you, logging onto the server had become your favorite thing to do.

Every victory felt extraordinary when shared with him, and you could have sworn that at that very moment, you could see the way the ends of his eyes creased as the edges of his lips pushed up his cheeks. The way his arms would be stretched up in happiness, as his intoxicating laugher filled the air.

On the other end, Beomgyu leaned back into his desk chair, smiling into the darkness, envisioning the way you’d be pretending it was no big deal whilst your eyes sparkled with happiness and a smile dug into your rosey cheeks.

“Hey, (Y/n)?”

You hummed into the mic, your head rested on the desk and your eyes closed, just listening to his voice, savoring every second of it.

“Do you...have a Valentine or something?”

14 February 2020, 18:00

From the moment the car pulled up down the street, Beomgyu was unable to take his eyes off from you. His eyes travelled up from the scuffed white sneakers which tapped against the pavement nervously, to the washed out jeans, to the oversized cardigan, which bunched up around the wrists of your hands, which shifted between nervously tucking your hair behind your ears, to pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose, to straightening out your outfit.

You were going to be the death of him.

He hurried toward you as soon as he saw you shiver. The sound of his soles against the wet concrete caught your attention and you turned in his direction, the look in your eyes nearly resulting in a fatal blow – the way they bewitched nearly had him hitting his head against the sidewalk.

Your hands tightened around the strap of the bag slung around your shoulder as you watched the dark-haired boy make his way down the street to you, a stupidly giddy-looking expression plastered across his face. You couldn’t stop yourself from feeling the way you did about Beomgyu – even though you knew you shouldn’t.

You were never really interested in fan culture, but some of the girls in your cram school were very invested. When you heard them gushing about a group called ‘Tomorrow X Together’ and it’s members the previous afternoon, a knot formed in your stomach. The first thing you did when you got home, was do research. You decided to listen to all of their albums and watch all of their music videos, interviews and content videos. Unsure what to do with all the new-found information and conflicting emotions, you pulled the covers over your head and tried to sleep instead. But you couldn’t.

Beomgyu flicked the side of your head, bringing you back to the present, and your cheeks flushed upon realization of his proximity. He smirked, wrapping his brown scarf around your neck. “It’s still winter you know, Winter. You should dress warmly.”

You clicked your tongue and pouted at his teasing use of your in-game alias, and marched off without him. He trailed behind you, laughing and relieved that you were no longer frowning as you were before. You froze when he caught up with you, feeling the warmth of his hand as it slipped into yours, tucking it into his coat pocket. Burying your face into his scarf, which smelled just like him, you smiled giddily, letting him pull you along with him.

He took you to dinner and the amusement park after that. He was thrilled to know you liked rollercoasters as much as he did and embarrassed to know he couldn’t even beat you at the kid’s games. He ended up going home with a truckload of new plushies, and you, with ever-increasing feelings that you had no idea what to do with.

28 February 2020, 23:42

Beomgyu burst through the doors of the PC Room no longer than 10 minutes after receiving a call from the owner. He still wore his sleepwear, over which his coat was thrown, his hair was disheveled and his bare left foot was stuffed halfway into a sneaker, while his sock-wearing right foot was slipped into a black slipper.

The owner, with worry painted across his features, cocked his head to the desk where the two of you usually sat. His heart ached at the sight of your curled up figure beneath it. Your bloodshot eyes widened when you realized his presence, the surprise enabling him a few seconds to examine you up and down before you turned away from him. Your bottom lip was cut and bruised, your cheek was swollen and bruises were littered across your face and the length of your arms and neck, your hair as messy as his was.

You insisted that you’re okay, even though he took you into his arms without asking anything at all. You insisted that you’re okay, but as his warmth enveloped you, tears began streaming down your face. He felt the way your body trembled in his arms, so he begins rocking you back and forth slowly, pressing soft kisses into your hair, whispering a single phrase over and over again.

“I’m here.”

4 March 2020, 19:00

Due to the pandemic, one of the award show ceremonies the boys were supposed to attend had been cancelled and moved to a later date. Worried that they’d feel disheartened about their performance, you decided to host a little award ceremony of your own. His friends were as welcoming as he was, so you quickly got along- even more so since Beomgyu stuck even closer to you since that day.

“The first award of the evening,” you announced, clearing your throat in the middle of the living room. The boys, who were cheering your on from their seats on the dorm sofa, quieted down as Yeonjun hushed them, gesturing for you to continue, “goes to a very versatile young man. The winner of the ‘Fourth Generation It Boy – In Everything Except Braincells’ Daesang, goes too, you guessed it, Choi Yeonjun!”

The rest erupted in laughter as an exasperated Yeonjun made his way to where you stood, empty wrappers crackling under his feet. He threw a glare at the boys before he bowed before you in the most formal way possible, and you handed him the pretty mediocre, handmade certificate, before enamored laughter spilled from his lips.

Soobin received an award for being the ‘Best Leader of the Greatest Global Shookies’, to which he sighed. Taehyun received the Grand Award ‘The Best Son, Our King, Vocalist Kang’, which the rest labelled unfair and favoritism. Kai received the ‘Gotta Hit That High Note Like-’ award, which he proudly accepted with absolutely no complaints, beaming at the poorly made certificate.

“And last, but not least,” you started, peaking at Beomgyu from the corner of you eyes, determination almost faltering at the sight of his anticipating countenance. Peering down at the clipboard in your hands, you frowned, “well, I guess that’s all we have for tonight, folks-”

The sound of their hearty laughter filled the dorm once again, Yeonjun nearly toppling over the armrest of the sofa. Beomgyu nodded, tongue in cheek, clearly bothered by the whole ordeal. You joined in on the laughter, before glancing back to the clipboard, your heart rate picking up a little.

“Oh, what’s this?” you feigned surprise, “We have two more awards left! To Choi Beomgyu,” you said, pausing to steady your breath, refusing to make eye contact with him, “goes the award for ‘The Most Annoying Amateur Gamer-” laughter once more, Beomgyu joining in this time, “Best Friend and Utterly Talented All-rounder’. And lastly, to Tomorrow X Together for ‘Best Group of All Time’!” you cheered, relieved that they all got up and cheered as well, without teasing you.

Beomgyu took your hand and slipped the certificate from the board. You may have been embarrassed at the self-proclaimed ‘lousy’ attempt at decorating his certificate, but within seconds, that sheet of colored board became the most important thing to him in the world - his most prized possession. He pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, and the rest all joined in without a second to spare, endlessly praising you and expressing their affection as you giggled in response.

Later on that evening, after you left and the others were fast asleep, he laid on his bed, limbs splayed across the comforter. He sighed dreamily up at the ceiling, bringing his hands up to cover the bashful grin playing on his lips. He turned his head ever-so slightly, and peeked through the spaces between his fingers at the certificate perched on his night-stand and sighed again.

What was he going to do with you.

13 March 2020, 20:00

You pushed aside everything that had been happening in your life to be happy on your best friend’s birthday. You were convinced it was the least you could do in return for everything he did for you. Deciding to host something small at the PC Room, the owner was pretty enthusiastic to make a contribution to the happiness of his ‘favourite patrons’, you invited his members and some of his closest friends.

Although Beomgyu would have loved to spend the day with just you, he was extremely grateful to know efforts you had made to make him enjoy his day. You had been chattering away with the owner at the front desk, but somewhere amidst conversation with Taehyun, he had lost sight of you. He frowned, apologizing to Taehyun before excusing himself.

Ready to grab his coat and leave, he stopped in his tracks when the lights were shut off. Slowly, the room was illuminated once more, by the flickering flames atop birthday candles, and the enormous smile across your face as you sang, “happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you,...”

The cake, in the shape of a bear and embellished with chocolate decorations of every variety, was placed on the table in front of where the rest had seated him. Eyes not once leaving you, absolutely entranced by your beauty, Beomgyu gulps, his heart racing a million miles an hour.

“Make a wish, before the wax gets onto the cake, Dummy.”

He pulls his lip between his teeth and flicks the top of your head gently, chuckling softly, before clasping his hands together and closing his eyes. For a reason unknown to him, Beomgyu couldn’t think of something to wish for. No, rather, he knew exactly why he had no idea what to wish for. He opened his eyes once more, and grinned at your anticipating face, the pining in his chest only running deeper and deeper.

He blew out the candles.

“What did you wish for-”

Beomgyu grabbed your hand and pulled you with him as he ran out onto the wet Itaewon streets. You didn’t run too far, before he pulled you into one of the alleyways. Completely lost for words and a little out of breath, you stood there, staring at him. The same puzzled look you had given him when you first met is etched into your face and his lips curl upward. Your breathing hitches as he takes a step closer to you and he pushes the rain-soaked hair from your face, eyes flitting to your lips before meeting your eyes again.

He pulled your chest flush against his and it was quiet for a moment. Quiet, save for the sound of the rain pitter-pattering across the rooftops and the alley floor; quiet, save for the sound of your thumping hearts.

“I love you.”

He feels you tense up, so he tightens his embrace. There is a silence again, and it is a lot less pleasant than the first. The sound of your sniffling alarms him, so he brings your face to meet his, his heart aching at the tears dripping down your face. You start making attempts to break free of his hold, shaking your head and him, whimpers escaping your lips every time you tried to speak.

Tears now streamed down his face too, a piece of him torn away each time you pushed him away. Beomgyu fought desperately to keep you in his arms, but before he knew it, you had slipped right through his fingers.

“I’m sorry.” was the last thing he heard you say through persisting sobs, before you disappeared down the street, without a trace.

30 June 2020

Beomgyu smiled before the cameras and press, laughing along with interviewers and staff members like it was the easiest thing in the world.

You had been missing for over three months. You blocked his number. You didn’t log onto the game, someone else had long taken your position on the leader board. After composing himself that day, he had bolted after you, but it was as if you had vanished off the face of the earth. Beomgyu stopped by the PC Room as much as he could in the following days, his condition only worsening each time he did, but due to the growing numbers of positive cases and the increasing amount of work scheduled for him, the time he spent there was limited.

When he did go, he sat in your chair, staring at the front door until he had to leave. The owner, who had been watching him in sympathy, called him up to the desk one day before he left – the last day the owner saw him. He looked sleep-deprived and downcast, the same pained expression drawn into his features every time he left.

“She... came here a lot. I think her first visit was around the time she was in middle school. She never spoke much, and never seemed to have any friends,” The owner told him, looking out to the isles of computers in front of him, before turning back to Beomgyu. “The first time I saw her talk- no, the first time I saw her smile, was with you. She liked you...alot.”

Beomgyu sighed, with a short, hollow chuckle.

“I know.”

12 March 2021, 23:55

The room was empty and dark when Beomgyu finally walked in, eyebrows knitted together as he tried to see through the darkness. He tried calling out for Hyunjin and Jeongin, but the only replies he received was the wind rattling the window-blinds.

The flickering of candles illuminate the room, just like they did many months ago, and Beomgyu’s heart stopped. He tried to not look disappointed when it turned out to be his members with Hyunjin and Jeongin carrying the cake, singing happy birthday to him with the most excited expressions on their faces, but his throbbing chest betrayed him.

They brought the cake up until where he stood and Yeonjun arched a brow, a knowing smirk rolling onto his lips. “You really do have a wild imagination, don’t you? Ow!” he cried, when Beomgyu hit his arm. “Ugh, just make a wish already.”

Beomgyu clasped his hands tightly before him and squeezed his eyes shut, just as he did before. Only this time, he knew exactly what he wanted. The subject of his pining, worry, and love. Her. He would give anything to see her, just one last time.

And when he opened his eyes, that was exactly what he found in front of him.

“Happy Birthday, Choi Beomgyu.”

The lights went back on, and Beomgyu blinked repeatedly, making sure that it wasn’t just his mind playing tricks on him. But there you were, with tears brimming your eyes, in all your glory, the love of his life.

He takes in all the little changes, like your trimmed hair, and that fact that you seemed to have lost weight – which made him frown. And then there was that smile, that dazzling smile, which only seemed to shine brighter now than it did before.

Your hands tremor a bit, the way he just stares at you making your heart leap. “I-I’m sor-”

The cake hit the floor with a plop, eliciting laughter from the others as he wraps his arms around your figure and he reels you into his arms in one swift movement. You feel his tears soak into your blouse, and you hold onto him tighter, your eyes already wet from your own tears. You were finally with him – you were finally home.

The owner gathered everyone together for a photo towards the end of the celebration, Beomgyu following suit wherever you went, refusing to let go of your hand for even a second. You offered him a loving smile when Hyunjin teased him for it, and placed a soft kiss to the back of his hand.

Beomgyu lead you up to the rooftop to see the sunrise, momentarily letting go of your hand to flush your back against his chest, before grabbing hold of it, and the other hand, again. The bright orange and yellow rays peeked from behind the mountain in the distance, and you had never felt more at peace.

You recalled the way your chest tightened and the way tears burned at the corners of your eyes upon receiving his confession a year ago. You had been so happy. So, so happy. But you knew you could not accept him. At the time, you knew that you were in no place to be with someone like him. He was, and is, too wonderful for someone as messed up as you are. You didn’t want burden him with your issues, not when his career had just taken off.

“Beomgyu?” he hummed from where his head against yours, “I love you.”

You stepped away from his embrace, giggling when you noticed the way he pouted. Your turned to face him properly, before attaching your arms around his waist. “Back then... I was in a really bad space. It’s not excuse, and I certainly shouldn’t have run away from you. I...have gotten help ever since, and I want to tell you my story. Would you like to hear it?”

He leaned back and thought for a moment. He then cupped the side of your face with his hand and ran his thumb across your cheek, before pulling you in to press a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Whatever you’re willing to share, I will listen to and accept with open arms. I love you for who you are; and that includes everything that has shaped, and will shape you into the amazing person I already know you are.”

“That includes the way you absolutely kick my ass at gaming.”

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debbiechanclub · 3 years

Text

Know You Better Now (*new* BTOOT sequel), Part 1

The title is the same, but I assure you the content is all shiny and new! The revamped BTOOT sequel is here!

Thank you to everyone for your patience on this. I just lost interest/direction for the original sequel after Ethan all but disappeared off Dynamite, but I'm honestly kind of glad I did because I like this new version so. Much. More. And we have Kenny's facial hair to thank for it.

So enough talking - enjoy! And please let me know what you think!

Know You Better Now

Synopsis: Nearly nine months have passed since Alex's freak shoulder injury, and she's still not cleared for action. But while Kenny has been a source of strength for her throughout her recovery, all her other relationships are in shambles - and she's finding it harder and harder to reconcile the Kenny she knows behind closed doors with his persona as the "Belt Collector."

Part: 1/?

Pairing: Kenny Omega x OFC x TBD 👀

Word count: 4.6k

Warnings: Language, ANGST

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May 30, 2021 AEW Double or Nothing

Surgery with six to twelve months’ recovery time. That was the prognosis Alex had received when she’d dislocated her shoulder in September. Now, nearly nine months later, everything had changed.

“Well, there’s good news and there’s not-as-good news,” Doc Sampson started. He’d just completed yet another check-up exam on her shoulder, and Alex could tell he was trying to keep up morale. But she already knew what he was going say. “The good news is you’ve gotten the full range of mobility back. The bad news is the strength isn’t quite there yet.”

She scoffed lightly to herself. It was exactly as she suspected. “So it’s no news, in other words,” she quipped.

“At least it’s not bad news?” Kenny hopefully offered.

Doc smiled sympathetically. “Just keep at it. Resistance bands, weights; you know the drill.”

Alex’s eyebrows arched. “Yeah, I do,” she returned. It seemed like weight training and physical therapy was all she did anymore.

“Just a few more weeks,” Doc said; but in medical-speak, time was relative. Alex knew all too well that weeks could easily mean months. “Good luck tonight, Kenny,” he added, and he went out the door.

Alex’s head fell back and she groaned in frustration. Kenny wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into him. “It won’t be much longer,” he assured with a kiss on the side of her head.

“It’s been almost nine months,” she muttered.

“I know. But you don’t want to rush your recovery, especially for something like a shoulder injury.”

She frowned. “At this rate Anna will be back from her shoulder injury before I am.”

“What?” Kenny laughed and hugged her tighter. “No, she won’t. I give it maybe another month and you’ll be back better than you were before. Which reminds me, you should probably have some new gear made. I bet your old stuff is too big on you now.”

The sound of her laugh was muffled by his shoulder. “Because you’ve been kicking my ass every week for the last six months,” she said. If there was a silver lining to her injury, it was that she’d gotten into the best shape of her life what with all the training she’d been doing—and it was all thanks to Kenny. Truth be told, Alex didn’t know what she would have done without him over the last nine months. He’d moved her into his house so she wouldn’t have to struggle through the weeks after surgery alone; he’d set her up with his doctors; he’d driven her to physical therapy appointments and trained with her every single week. He’d been there for her in ways she couldn’t even express, and she’d fallen even more in love with him for it.

It made it that much more difficult for her to admit that the Kenny she knew in private was a far cry from the one who called himself the “Belt Collector.”

“I wouldn’t push you if I didn’t think you could handle it,” he returned with a peck on her lips. “I don’t think anyone’s gonna recognize you out there tonight.”

Alex momentarily tensed in his arms, but she didn’t relax quick enough. Kenny felt it—and he knew exactly what it was about.

“You’re not having second thoughts about it, are you?”

She looked up at him. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t,” she admitted.

Kenny’s face fell. “Alex… we’ve talked about this.”

“I know,” she breathed. She stepped back from him, suddenly anxious. They had talked about it, at length. It was a big statement for her to accompany him for his match tonight, because she hadn’t been seen since her injury. In fact, she’d all but gone off-grid. She hadn’t been on television; she’d barely posted on social media; she hadn’t responded to any questions for comment about her recovery or her thoughts on Kenny’s pursuits. She’d just wanted to fly under the radar until she was back in that ring for good.

But then, two-and-a-half weeks ago, the match between PAC and Orange Cassidy for a shot at Kenny’s AEW World Championship had gone to a no contest. As a result, it was decided that Kenny would defend the title in a triple threat match against them both at Double or Nothing—tonight. And as soon as the match was booked, Alex knew—she knew—that Kenny would find a way to pull her into it.

But she didn’t know if she could—or should—go out there with him. Not with the way things currently were between her and the people she’d thought were her best friends.

Kenny reached out and took her hands in his, and she looked back up at him from the floor. His blue eyes were concerned. But she could tell he was frustrated.

“I want you out there with me, baby. And yeah… I’d be lying if I said Orange wasn’t part of the reason why.”

She frowned. “Kenny—”

“Just hear me out,” he gently cut her off, and she pursed her lips. But she let him continue. “Best Friends are actually supposed to be your best friends, right? But when was the last time any of them checked in on you? I know Chuck did for a while, but Trent? He’s been a complete asshole to you.”

Alex fidgeted, her chest tightening. His words were like salt in a wound—but he wasn’t wrong. At first, Chuck had checked in on her fairly regularly… but his texts and FaceTime calls had tapered off after the first couple months. At the time, she’d just chalked it up to circumstance. She was out of sight and out of mind, and he and Orange had been put through more than their fair share of bullshit by Miro, Kip, and Penelope after Trent had torn his pec muscle in December. She couldn’t really blame him for going quiet.

But then, two months ago, Trent had returned with Kris in tow—and Alex hadn’t been able to chalk it up to circumstance any longer. And when Kris seemingly became an official member of Best Friends, she couldn’t ignore the twinge of jealousy in her gut, either. She felt forgotten. Replaced in person just as much as she had been on the Best Friends t-shirt. And the thing of it was, none of them seemed to even miss her.

Least of all Trent.

Kenny squeezed her hands, redrawing her attention. “Look… I’m not trying to turn you against them. But I can see how hurt you are by how they’ve acted over the last couple months, and it kills me. And yeah, it pisses me off, too. So… why not come out there with me tonight, looking absolutely fucking fantastic, and show Best Friends just how good you’re doing without them?”

Alex’s brow furrowed. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, there was a petty part of her that wanted to do exactly that. But the softer side of her just wanted her friends back.

“I get what you’re saying, I just... I feel like I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place.”

“I know you do,” he sympathetically returned. “But I’m not asking you to go out there and try to keep Orange from winning. I just want you in my corner. And maybe I want to show you off a little bit, too.”

He grinned and pulled her closer, and Alex couldn’t help the coy smile that pulled at her lips. Through all their ups and downs, Kenny had never failed to make her feel special; wanted. She didn’t take that for granted—especially not now.

“I did bring a really cute outfit to wear,” she said, sliding her hands up his arms. “It would be a shame if it went to waste.”

His smile widened. “Well then you gotta wear it.”

Alex bit her lip in thought. But she didn’t think for long. She put her hands on either side of his face and gave him a tender kiss. “You know I love you, right?”

Kenny gripped her waist. “Of course, I do. I love you, too,” he returned, and he kissed her again. “Come on, you should go get ready,” he said with a pat on her backside. And as they left the exam room, Alex knew that accompanying Kenny for his match was the right decision.

It was the potential consequences that worried her.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Holy shit, I almost didn’t recognize you!”

That was what Stella had proclaimed when Alex walked into hair and makeup. It was followed by a chorus of more of the same, a parade of hugs from everyone in the room—and dozens of questions.

“How are you? You look incredible!”

“Is your shoulder cleared?”

“So, are you officially living with Kenny now?”

“I’ve been dying to know how you feel about everything going on with him.”

And Alex had done her best to field each one of them.

“I’m doing pretty well, and thanks. It seems like I’ve been filling all my free time with working out.”

“No… not yet. But hopefully in the next few weeks.”

“I mean, not officially. I still have my house in Virginia—my cousin’s been renting it out. But I don’t know. It feels like I’ve officially moved in.”

“It is what it is. He’s just being Kenny Omega.”

Thankfully, no one pressed her on that last one.

Instead, Stella was all too happy to dish on all the latest and juiciest backstage news and gossip. Anna Jay and Jungle Boy were an item. Cody had estranged himself from nearly everyone. Callie had left AEW and pro wrestling altogether—and moved in with Cash. Alex had already known about that one, but it was still strange to hear. Looking back, it was hard to believe her friendship with Callie and relationship with Cash had ever even happened at all. It felt like another life; another time.

“You’re all done, my dear,” Stella said. She handed her a mirror—and Alex was taken aback by her own reflection. Long, sleek dark brown hair; glowing fair skin; pouty nude lips; a sexy reverse cat eye that made her hazel eyes pop. She sat up a little straighter. For perhaps the first time in months, she felt herself again.

She thanked Stella and hopped out of the chair, a pep in her step as she went out the door—

“Alex?!”

She halted in her tracks. Even though she hadn’t heard it in forever, she’d recognize that voice anywhere—Kris. She held her breath and turned around; but relaxed in relief. It was just her and Orange. At least she wouldn’t have to face them all at once.

“Holy shit!” She hurried over and wrapped her in a tight hug before she could even blink. Alex was stiff and awkward as she returned it. She hadn’t expected that reaction.

“Why didn’t you tell us you’d be here tonight?” Kris asked as she stepped back from her. Alex hesitated to answer.

“Um, I thought about it. But given why I’m here…”

She trailed off and looked awkwardly at Jim. He shrugged. “It’s business,” he returned. “So I guess this means you’ll be in Kenny’s corner tonight?”

Alex crossed an arm over herself and nervously fidgeted with the skin on her elbow. She nodded. Jim’s expression remained as indecipherable as ever.

“And you look hot as fuck,” Kris perceptively interjected. “Seriously, I think I might be questioning my sexuality.”

Alex breathed a laugh—

“You should come say hi to Chuck and Trent! Trent’s gonna shit himself.”

Just like that, her smile vanished. Her lips parted in silent question, uncertain if Kris was being serious. But she looked too genuinely excited not to be.

“I… I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Alex said. “I mean, considering the last time I talked to Trent…”

She trailed off and looked down at her shoes. There had been things said by both her and Trent in the heat of the moment that had made an already uncomfortable situation worse. They hadn’t spoken in more than five months, since right before he’d gotten injured. She didn’t think now was the time to start.

“Trent has his head up his ass,” Jim said, and Alex flicked her eyes back up at him, surprised. “You know how he is with this stuff. You’ll probably have to be the bigger person.”

Alex sighed. He was probably right. But again—tonight wasn’t the night. “Now’s just not the time,” she remorsefully returned. “But I’ll see you out there. Good luck—really.”

And before either of them could say anything else, she turned and continued down the hall, digging her nails into the palms of her hands.

* * * * * * * * * *

“Maybe you shouldn’t come out there… you’re gonna distract me walking around like this.”

Alex looked at Kenny through the mirror as he sidled up behind her. He reached up and brushed her hair back from her neck, and she tilted her head so he could press his lips against her skin.

“It's too late,” she returned. “I’ve already gone through all the trouble of getting ready.”

Kenny hummed. “Well, I can take it all off for you, if you want.”

He nipped her neck, and she smirked and squirmed. Her mood had completely turned around from earlier in the night; it was amazing what a little hair and makeup and the right outfit could do. The white bustier-style crop top she wore wasn’t her usual style, but it showed off the hard work she’d put in at the gym—and it didn’t hurt that it made her boobs look amazing. And even though she’d made the outfit more “her” with a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans and her white low-top Chucks, Kenny was right—they probably wouldn’t recognize her out there.

But truth be told, she’d never felt more confident.

“You can later,” she smirked, and she felt a low growl rumble in his bare chest.

“Get a room!”

Alex rolled her eyes. Matt’s voice was an unwelcome interruption from across the locker room. She’d almost forgotten that he and Nick were there.

Kenny shot a glare over his shoulder. “Why are you looking?”

Matt opened his mouth, but two quick knocks on the door cut him off before he could make a smart-ass retort, and then Don Callis walked in.

“We’re up, Ken.”

Kenny smirked at Alex. “Let’s go give the people what they really want.”

He picked up his AEW World Championship, and she helped him secure it around his waist, followed by the Impact World Championship, which he strapped across his chest. Then, he picked up the AAA Mega Championship and old TNA World Heavyweight Championship and held them in each of his hands. And Alex had to admit—it was an impressive sight, Kenny draped in championship gold. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t turn her on.

“How do I look?” he asked her.

She bit her lip. “Good. Really good.”

He grinned, cocky.

They started for the door; but before Alex could follow Don and Kenny out, Matt stopped her. “Alex.” He pushed himself up from his chair and cast Nick a glance. He stood too. She rolled her eyes. They weren’t subtle at all.

Matt gave her a discerning look. “You are one-hundred percent in Kenny’s corner… right?”

Her brow lowered dangerously. Was he really questioning her loyalty now? “Are you serious?”

He shrugged a shoulder. “Well… I know Orange is one of your best friends—”

“Or he was,” Nick interjected.

“—and I just want to make sure that there aren’t any conflicts of interest.”

He smirked, obnoxiously smacking his gum between his teeth. Alex bit down on her jaw. She’d thought that maybe—maybe—Callie’s departure and her relationship with Kenny would have led her and Matt to at least be friendly with each other. But she’d thought wrong.

She gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, Matt. The only conflict going on here is the one between what you think that outfit looks like and what it actually looks like.”

He abruptly stopped chewing his gum. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

But Alex was already out the door. She caught up with Kenny and fell in step beside him. “Forget something?” he asked.

She shook her head. “No. Just got held up.”

They arrived at Gorilla, and Don went on and on talking Kenny up, boosting his confidence, assuring that neither Orange nor PAC stood a chance; but Alex tuned him out, nervously looking around. Waiting. And then she saw them: Orange, Chuck, Kris, and Trent.

Her heart jumped into her throat when her eyes met Chuck’s. He flashed her a smile; but it wasn’t as wide or as bright as she was used to.

“Hey. It’s good to see you,” he said, and he gave her arm a squeeze as he passed. She said nothing in response—just a tight grin of acknowledgement. Entirely impersonal compared to how they used to greet each other.

It’s the circumstances, she tried to tell herself.

Orange and Kris greeted her in much the same way, with awkward half-smiles as they walked by; Kris seemed apologetic, for some reason. And then, Trent reached her. His expression was cold, his eyes hard, and then he muttered underneath his breath, just loud enough for her to hear, “Thanks for telling us you’d be here.”

He kept walking, not waiting for her to even process what he’d said, and Alex’s heart sunk petrified into the pit of her stomach.

This was how things were now. She felt stupid for hoping for different.

* * * * * * * * * *

Alex had known it would be difficult to be ringside for this match. But, sixteen minutes into it, she hadn’t realized it would be this difficult.

PAC laid on his back, staring up at the lights courtesy of a bridging deadlift suplex into a pin attempt from Kenny. So, with him taken care of for the moment, Kenny turned his attention to Orange. He pulled his right kneepad down, and Alex had to stop herself from watching through her fingers as he kneed Orange hard in the face, once, and then again. She could feel the eyes of the fans at ringside watching her with keen interest, trying to gauge her reactions. They’d been shocked to see her come out with Kenny, and now her presence provided them with an extra layer of entertainment. At least Chuck, Trent, and Kris weren’t at ringside, too; they’d walked Orange out and promptly disappeared backstage. Alex didn’t know what she would have done if they’d stayed.

Kenny backed toward the ropes, aiming to deliver a third and final V-Trigger. But before he could, Orange held up his hands as if to tell him “stop.” And then he plunged them into his pant pockets and fell facedown onto the mat.

Kenny laughed, but he couldn’t care less. He walked over and started to pick Orange up; but then a revived PAC grabbed him and hit him with a hard forearm. They traded blows and kicks in the middle of the ring until Orange suddenly intervened and hit Kenny with a Michinoku Driver. However, Kenny rolled away and PAC hit Orange with a brainbuster. He covered him, but Orange thankfully kicked out at two.

Alex put her hand on Kenny’s shoulder as he laid underneath the ropes, halfway out of the ring. “Are you alright?”

But he didn’t answer her question. Instead, he said, “Go get one of my belts.”

She looked back at him in confusion. “What?”

“Go get one of my belts in case.”

Alex blinked and shook her head. She could not believe what he was asking her to do. “What? No, Kenny, I’m not doing that. You don’t need—”

But he rolled away, back underneath the ropes into the ring. PAC and Orange were in a precarious position on the top turnbuckle closest to them. It looked like PAC was trying to execute a superplex—but Kenny jumped up and shoved PAC off-balance, causing Orange to tumble from his grip and bounce off the ring apron to the floor. Alex started to check on him—but then she remembered she wasn’t out there for him and stopped short. She ran her hands over her hair, helpless. Inwardly hoping that he was alright.

Meanwhile, PAC had reversed Kenny’s attempt at a One-Winged Angel from the top turnbuckle and sent him sailing across the ring via a sunset flip powerbomb. They stood atop the opposite turnbuckle now, and Alex’s eyes widened in horror when PAC delivered an avalanche Falcon Arrow. But then, Orange suddenly scrambled back into the ring, tossed PAC out, and hooked Kenny’s leg. Every single person packed into Daily’s Place jumped from their seats as Bryce Remsburg slid to the mat and started to count. Kenny barely kicked out before three. Alex leaned her elbows on the ring apron, her head in her hands. That had been way too close.

All around her the fans started chanting, “That was three!” booming in her ears, and she bit down on her jaw. Kenny rolled out of the ring and stumbled over to her. For some reason, she already knew what for.

“Alex, go get one of my belts,” he said again. It was an order, not a question. But she stood her ground.

“No! I’m not helping you win like that!”

He let out a frustrated huff. “Baby, now’s not the time to argue about this. Just go get—”

She cut him off with a gasp as PAC came flying over the top rope headed straight for them. Kenny shoved her out of the way at the last second, taking all the impact himself and getting knocked to the floor. PAC, meanwhile, sprung back up and to the top turnbuckle. He slowly stood—and when Alex saw him jump into the air and perform the Black Arrow, she knew she had just seconds to act. She jumped over Kenny and rounded the turnbuckle as PAC hooked Orange’s leg. And just before Bryce could count three, she grabbed Orange’s boot and put it on the bottom rope.

Bryce stopped the count and pointed at Orange’s foot, none the wiser to what had happened. The fans, on the other hand, showered Alex with thunderous boos. Realizing what she’d done, PAC turned and shot her a glower that seemed almost inhuman. But she just pursed her lips and raised her chin in defiance.

Kenny pulled himself up by the ropes and ducked back into the ring, grinning like the cat that caught the canary, and the match went on, back and forth between him and PAC—until Orange scored another near-fall after he hit Kenny with a frantic Beach Break. PAC then tried for a Liger Bomb on Orange, but he fought out of it and landed a hard Orange Punch across his jaw, dropping him to the mat. Then he gave one to Kenny, and the crowd came unglued.

Orange fed off their energy, pumping himself up as PAC staggered to his feet. He hit another Orange Punch and went for the pin. Time seemed to stop as Alex watched, her heart in her throat and her hands on her head. She didn’t want Kenny to lose at all, let alone like this. But just as Bryce started the count, Don appeared out of nowhere and pulled him from the ring by his ankles.

Alex stood frozen to her spot as Bryce and Don yelled at each other, and she fully expected the former to expel the latter from ringside—but he didn’t. He simply got back in the ring, and the match continued. Don walked toward Alex, straightening his suit jacket. “Good work putting Orange’s foot on the ropes,” he said to her.

She didn’t say anything in return. She didn’t want a compliment from the likes of him.

Back in the ring, Kenny had been knocked to the floor once again—and PAC had the Brutalizer locked on Orange. When Kenny finally made it back through the ropes, he kicked PAC in the face once, twice. But he didn’t let go of his hold on Orange. So instead, Kenny made the desperate decision to hit Bryce with a hard double axe handle to the back.

The crowd booed, and Alex hid her face in her hands. “Come on, Ken…” she breathed. Not like this.

Meanwhile, Don took the initiative to do what Kenny had been asking Alex to do all along. He grabbed the Impact Championship from the timekeeper’s area and tossed it to Kenny in the ring. Kenny caught it, and then he turned and clocked PAC over the head. He dropped like dead weight to the mat, and Kenny tossed the belt aside, the fans still booing all the while.

But apparently, one belt wasn’t enough.

Don tossed in the Triple A Mega Championship next, and as PAC staggered to his feet, Kenny hit him again. Then he threw in the TNA World Heavyweight Championship. Alex had to bite her lip to keep from shouting at Kenny to stop. She looked away just before he hit PAC a third time.

Finally, Don handed Kenny the AEW World Championship. He took it and held it high above his head, gloating, reveling in the crowd’s hatred. Somehow, PAC was still moving, trying to stay in the match. But just as he climbed to his feet for a third time, Kenny hit him again and knocked him down for good.

Kenny held the championship up again, parading around the ring. He didn’t notice Orange darting toward him until it was too late. He laid him out with another Orange Punch across the jaw.

Orange crawled toward Kenny, obviously going for the pin; but Bryce was still down from Kenny’s earlier attack. However, it didn’t matter. As soon as he draped himself across Kenny’s chest, Aubrey ran down to the ring. Alex grabbed her own throat as she counted.

One.

Two—

But unexpectedly, Kenny reversed the pin and rolled Orange’s shoulders to the mat in a crucifix. Aubrey counted again.

One.

Two.

Three.

That was it. The bell rung, and Kenny’s music started. Alex let out a breath. He’d won by the skin of his fucking teeth.

She and Don both rushed to Kenny’s side as Justin Roberts officially announced him the winner. He clutched his jaw, and somehow his left hand had been sliced open. “What happened?” she asked, looking over the blood on his fingers with concern. But he wasn’t able to answer her before they were suddenly swarmed by both the Young Bucks and the Good Brothers. Matt and Nick practically pushed her aside as they congratulated Kenny, and Nick and Karl Anderson put an arm each over their shoulders and helped him up the steps to the entrance ramp. And as they all celebrated, reveling in Kenny’s stolen victory, Alex felt a sourness curdle at the back of her throat.

She was in love with Kenny. He’d come to mean the world to her over the last nine months. But she hadn’t signed up for this world.

#aew fanfiction #kenny omega fanfiction #the elite fanfiction #orange cassidy fanfiction #trent beretta fanfiction #chuck taylor fanfiction #kris statlander fanfiction

49 notes · View notes

and-it-freezes-me · 3 years

Text

Little Red Lies - Chapter 1

Or, AUgust 2021 Day 10 - Fake Dating

{Next}

Words: 5,439

[Booked tckts yet? virge wants 2 check u still need 2 places 4 reception dinner]

Trash Rat 22:57

[cant w8 2 meet ur new ~date~]

Trash Rat 22:58

Roman stared at the messages for several long seconds, then groaned.

[Of course I booked tickets. Yes I still need the +1 seat.]

Roman 23:04

[cant believe u havent even sent a pic or yk a name]

Trash Rat 23:06

[no shame if ur still </3 ovr remy]

Trash Rat 23:06

[even tho its been 2 yrs now]

Trash Rat 23:07

[Of course I’m over remy. You’ll meet my boyfriend when we get there. He’s shy.]

Roman 23:07

Roman seriously considered throwing his phone across the room and booking a plane ticket to Alaska rather than Manhattan. That way, he wouldn’t have to go to his brother’s wedding and admit that he was most definitely single and most definitely not over his ex boyfriend (of seventeen months - two years was an unfair exaggeration).

[u kno virge h8s not knowing whos coming to his wedding right]

Trash Rat 23:10

[I know, I know, I’ll apologise as soon as we get there. He’ll be first to meet my bf, promise.]

Roman 23:11

[book ur fuckin plane tckts ro, I know u didnt do it yet]

Trash Rat 23:11

Roman threw his phone across the room.

It bounced off of his Heathers poster and landed on his desk, which was covered in scripts, textbooks, empty takeout containers, balled up bits of paper, crumpled drinks cans, and pens, and Roman buried his face in his pillow and groaned.

Ten months ago, Roman’s sister had flown down to Los Angeles, dragged Roman out of bed and announced that he was actually Roman’s brother. Almost sooner than Roman had been able to take this in stride, Virgil had added that he was marrying his boyfriend in December and would Roman mind being one of his groomsmen? While Roman was still reeling from the bombshell that was the fact that their gremlin of an elder brother Remus was Virgil’s best man, Virgil had leaned forward and asked if Roman was doing alright because he couldn’t help but notice that his dorm room resembled ‘the result of an explosive going off in a pigsty’.

Roman had blinked dumbly at him, nodded, and then started pressing for details about Virgil’s wedding. Eventually, his brother had promised that he’d get Patton, his fiance, to call Roman to discuss every detail, from location to napkin frills, and Roman felt that he had managed to avoid the topic of how he was doing.

When he and Remy had first broken up, midway through last July, Roman had gone to pieces. He had spent the end of the summer holiday between his first and second years locked in his room and listening to the same few songs on loop until Virgil, who was three years older and had been packing his things to move into his new apartment, had put his fist through the wall between their rooms. Then Roman had put his headphones on. It wasn’t Virgil’s fault that he was too uncivilised to appreciate the wonders of ‘Michael In The Bathroom’, ‘Someone You Loved’, or ‘Impossible’, after all.

Then Roman had gone back to university, where he had tried to drown himself in reading for his degree, and instead ended up sleeping through lectures after all-night crying sessions. He had tried to submerge himself in his essays and instead ended up daydreaming about his ex-boyfriend in study sessions. He had tried to get involved in theatre productions, but every audition had gone sour, and he often ended up thinking about the few times he and Remy had met up over the previous year rather than learning his lines.

Everyone had said that long distance relationships would be hard, but Roman, the romantic fool that he was, had insisted that they could do it.

They couldn’t.

Eight months ago, nine months after the two of them had broken up, two months after Virgil had announced his wedding plans, Remus and his partner had flown into Los Angeles and tried to stage an intervention. This had involved Remus trying to seduce the campus security guard and almost getting reported to the police (Roman had always insisted that his mustache only made him look sketchy), followed by Janus sneaking past the pair of them and into the building. Remus had somehow managed to join him moments later, and the two of them had somehow made their way up to Roman’s floor without alerting anyone else of their presence.

Roman had been woken by a furious hammering at his bedroom door at a little after four in the morning, and had to wade through a mess of papers and laundry to find that the two of them had knocked on every single door on his corridor, unable to remember which was his. He had not been popular with his dormmates the next day.

Their intervention had involved sitting on Roman’s bed and sharing the leftover pizza that had been on Roman’s desk for the last three days, and telling him to wash the dirty clothes all over his floor. Then they had tried to persuade him to accompany them to a bar to hook him up with somebody, and Roman had quickly concluded that the pair was somewhat drunk.

He had vehemently refused, and when Janus had eventually rolled onto his back, dark hair dangling off the edge of the bed and onto the sticky patch of carpet that Roman had spilled soda on three weeks ago, he practically whined that Roman was being very difficult when all they were doing was trying to help him.

“Trying to help me? You’ve disturbed the people I live with at fuck-o’clock in the morning! I have class tomorrow!” Roman was sat at his desk chair, trying very hard to ignore the stack of textbooks he was supposed to have read and hadn’t.

Remus rested a hand on Janus’ hip to stop him from rolling off the bed, and raised a lazy eyebrow at him. “Cut the bullshit, little bro. We all know you haven’t been to class in… How long, Jan?”

“Two months, three weeks, and four days,” Janus sing-songed.

“How the fuck do you know that?” It sounded about right, anyway, and Roman had a feeling that if he denied it this would just take even longer. He spun around in his chair and picked up a pen from his desk. “It’s my business if I don’t go to class.”

“Called my sister. Jannie takes all your classes, you know…” There was the sound of shifting fabric, and when Roman glanced back, Janus was sitting up and tucked under Remus’ arm again, looking very much as though Remus had just placed him there.

“You’re right, Ro. It’s not my business if you’re not going to class.” One of Remus’ hands trailed slowly up and down Janus’ arm, so casually Roman could almost believe that his brother didn’t realise he was doing it. “But it is my business that my little brother isn’t taking care of himself anymore. You haven’t answered my calls since before winter break. You obviously haven’t been eating healthily - this pizza tastes like you fished it out of the garbage, by the way, and I would know - and you look as though you haven’t seen the sunlight since last July.”

The assessment wasn’t quite fair. Roman might have been skipping classes, but it wasn’t as though he had just been lying in his room and wasting away! “I went to the gym last week. And I auditioned for the musical in March. I’m fine, Remus! Can I go to bed now?”

“No! We’re going to a club!”

Janus had nodded enthusiastically at Remus’ words, then rested his head on his partner’s shoulder as Roman shook his head slowly. “I don’t want to go to a club. I want to go to bed. I have class tomorrow.”

“Nope.” Remus’ hand rose to tangle absently in Janus’ hair. “We’re going to a club, and you’re gonna find some hottie to fuck all the yearning for Remy right out of you. Then you’ll feel much better!”

“You’re pulling my ha-”

“Fuck no. We’re not doing that.” Roman pressed his palms into his eyes, then stood up and jerked his door open. “Can you go now?”

“Give me one good reason why you getting laid is a bad thing right now, Ro, and we’ll leave.” Roman had gotten as far as opening his mouth before Remus interrupted. “See? You can’t. You need to move on, man. Clinging to Remy is clearly unh-”

“I have a boyfriend.”

“-ealthy, and- What?”

Maybe it was because it was four in the morning. Maybe it was because Roman hadn’t been sleeping well anyway, and Remus had managed to step on the last of his fraying nerves. Maybe it was just because he wished it was true.

“I have a boyfriend,” Roman repeated, and felt a strange sense of satisfaction at the obvious shock on Janus’ usually impassive face. “Three months. Met just after term started. It’s pretty serious, actually.”

“Bullshit.” Remus looked half impressed.

Now it was irritation that flickered through Roman. Was it really so unbelievable that he could have found somebody else? “It’s not.”

“You fucked yet?”

“Remus…” There was a warning note in Janus’ voice, and Remus sighed.

“None of my business. Got it. Do we get to meet him?”

“He’s shy.”

“Which is another way of saying he doesn’t exist.”

“Asshole. It’s another way of saying that it’s four in the fucking morning and he’s asleep. You’ll meet him at the wedding, anyway - I’m going to ask him to be my plus one when Patton sends out the RSVP date.” The words had been out of his mouth before he had had time to regret them, and Roman had spent the last eight months trying to sidestep questions about his non-existent boyfriend.

He had later found out that Remus and Janus hadn’t really come down to see him. They had gone to Los Angeles to celebrate their two year wedding anniversary and decided they might drop in while in the area. (Just because they had eloped rather than holding a big party, Janus had commented idly, didn’t mean they couldn’t celebrate it).

But now it was December, and Roman was partner-less and running out of excuses. His lie had gotten out of control, and he had ended up asking Patton and Virgil to include his partner in the guest numbers. He had invented dates they had been on for his mother when she had asked, and he insisted that his boyfriend was shy and had practically no internet presence anyway, so knowing his name wouldn’t help anybody.

He could just say that the two of them had broken up and go home alone, of course.

But that would mean disrupting the meticulous wedding seating plan Virgil and Patton had been making for months.

Besides, Roman was fairly certain that nobody in his family really believed in his mystery boyfriend, and failure to produce one after months of insisting that they would meet… Well, he didn’t want to open himself to that sort of ridicule.

Of course, it didn’t look as though he had much choice.

He hadn’t managed to make many friends at college.

In his first year, Roman had spent a lot of time trying to keep on top of his schoolwork and working toward the various theatre productions the school had put on; all of his free time he had spent planning dates for when he and Remy finally visited one another, or else video calling his boyfriend. There simply hadn’t been time to make many friends during that.

His second year… Well, Remus had been right. He had spent most of his time in his room, eating junk food, watching sappy romance films, and missing Remy.

So far, he had spent his third year trying to bring his grades back up to something more respectable… And missing Remy.

He knew it was pathetic. It had been almost a year and a half since they had broken up, and he still missed being able to call someone to talk about nothing at all at two in the morning, missed planning extravagant dates, missed the feel of hands in his hair and lips on his.

At least his floor was cleaner than it had been last year. And he had eaten slightly less fast food this semester than the previous one.

Roman’s phone chimed again. With a frustrated groan, he made his way over to his desk.

[Looking forward to seeing you on Monday!!! <3 <3 <3 !!!]

Pops 23:25

Patton.

[Me too, Padre! I’ll bring some of that fudge from the shop you love!]

Roman 23:26

[eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee <33333333 Can you get some of the currents+salt? Vee loved it last time + I want to surprise him]

Pops 23:26

[Will do. Looking forward to seeing you too!]

Roman 23:27

Patton would probably be the most understanding if Roman decided to come clean about his lying - but Patton was the worst secret keeper Roman had ever met. He and Virgil had been dating for almost three years, and in that time the thin voice actor had managed to spill every single plot twist in every single show he had watched or acted in. Roman had no doubt that Virgil would know that he was bringing home fudge within the next hour. If he admitted to Patton that he had been lying about having a date for the wedding, Roman would get Patton’s kind - if confused - reassurances, and half an hour later he would get the mixture of mockery and horrible pity that would come with the rest of his family finding out that he still wasn’t over Remy.

Roman let his phone slip through his fingers and land on his desk once more. Three days, and then he’d have to come clean - until then, he could just avoid thinking about it. Collecting the overflowing basket from the corner of the room (he had been putting off doing laundry for a while now), Roman left his room and headed toward the building’s basement laundry room. Term had finished last week and it was almost midnight - he doubted anybody would be down there now. Most people had probably already gone home, or were making the most of the free time to go out rather than spend it doing chores.

The light was off in the basement when he got there, so Roman left it that way as he loaded his clothing into one of the machines.

Moving around in the dark was far more of a Virgil move than a Roman one, but he couldn’t help himself. There was something comforting about the-

“Sweet fucking Shakespeare!” Roman’s hand flew up to cover his eyes as light burst through the small room, quickly followed by the strong smell of coffee.

“Sorry! I was unaware that there would be anybody in here.” As Roman dropped his hand, blinking owlishly in the sudden light, the newcomer made his way over to the machine on the far side of the room from him. “Most people prefer not to fumble around in the dark.”

Remus or Remy would have made some comment about how fumbling around in the dark could be quite fun really. Roman just shrugged. “It’s been a long day.”

He had expected the other man to say something; instead, silence fell over the room, broken only by the sound of the powder tray being opened, filled, and closed again.

Roman didn’t mean to stare, but he couldn’t help it. He had seen the person in the room next to him only twice so far this term, and only knew his name because the mailroom was organised by room number rather than alphabetically, and the name Roman Prince was right next to Logan Ursa.

Logan looked more tired than he had on either of the other times Roman had seen him. There were deep bags under his eyes, the shadows almost deeper than Virgil’s had been at the height of his eyeliner experiments, and the black ponytail that hung halfway to his waist was missing, replaced with what could only be described as a thicket of tangled hair. It looked as though he had been outside even less than Roman had in the past few months: his skin was so pale it seemed to glow under the fluorescent laundry-room lights. There was a steaming mug and a thick book on the lid of the machine beside him, and Roman had the strong feeling that it wasn’t the first coffee Logan had had that evening.

The washing machine Logan had been loading began to rumble, and as the other student straightened up and picked up his book, Roman made himself duck back down to finish his own task.

He’d have to come back to collect his clothing later - Roman suddenly regretted deciding to get this done now, when it meant he would have to return at almost two in the morning, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now.

“Do you want me to leave the light on?” He was more trying to make conversation than anything else: Logan was perched on one of the machines in the corner, nose already buried in what Roman could now see was a heavy medical textbook.

“Obviously.”

Yeah, he probably should have guessed that.

Logan was still in the laundry room when Roman returned to collect his clothing two hours later. He was still sat on the same machine, although now he was speaking into his phone in what sounded like rapid Italian. (It definitely wasn’t Spanish: Roman was almost fluent in Spanish). (The languages were similar, but although he could guess at a few words, he had no idea what was going on). (Not that he was eavesdropping, of course). Logan’s hair was even messier than it had been before, and out of the corner of his eye Roman caught him jerking his free hand through it once or twice.

Roman pulled his now-warm and dry clothing from the machine and dumped it into his laundry basket, doing his best to ignore the way Logan was practically shouting behind him, but couldn’t stop himself from startling at the wordless, frustrated yell that came from the taller man a few minutes later. He was halfway to the door, but paused and glanced at Logan, who was stuffing his phone angrily into the oversized hoodie he was wearing.

“Everything okay over there?”

“Family stuff,” came the snappish response. Roman watched for a few seconds as Logan knelt in front of his own machine and began jerking clothing from it, folding pants as though he wished he were ripping them to pieces instead, then throwing several dark shirts over his shoulder and stalking over to one of the ironing stations.

“Pretty loud family stuff,” Roman commented, then wondered why he was bothering. It had been clear from his first meeting with Logan that the other student wasn’t there to make friends: Roman had been carrying a large cardboard box into his room the day he had moved in, and bumped into him in the hallway. Logan had looked him up and down, said something like, “Keep the volume down. I’m here to work,” and marched past him as though Roman were no more interesting than a hat stand.

Sure enough, Logan didn’t turn to face him, instead ironing a shirt in a manner that strongly hinted that he wanted to make it beg for mercy. “None of your business family stuff.”

“Are you-”

“None. Of your. Business.” This time, Logan actually did glance over his shoulder, and fixed Roman with a scowl that suggested that if he didn’t drop it, his face was going to be the next thing under the iron.

Roman left quickly. He had done his best to be friendly, and if Logan wasn’t interested, that was his problem. He didn’t seem like the sort of person Roman would really want to be friends with anyway.

Logan’s haggard expression lingered in his mind as he made his way back up to his dorm room and began stuffing his now-clean clothes into his wardrobe. He should probably start packing - his suitcase was sitting open and empty against one wall - but he had plenty of time.

Besides, he was exhausted.

Roman had changed into a pair of sweatpants and gotten into bed by the time he heard the door to the room next to his slam shut. Clearly, Logan was still annoyed by whatever ‘family stuff’ had had him first yelling into his phone and then taking his frustration out on his laundry and somebody trying to be friendly.

How long could Logan hold a grudge? Was he the kind of person who would calm down after a couple of hours of sleep, or would whatever he had been arguing about be hanging over him for the next week or so? That would make the winter break uncomfortable…

Or maybe he wasn’t going home. He had looked pretty invested in the textbook he had been studying earlier, despite it being almost midnight and no longer termtime. Maybe Logan was going to stay in the dorms over the winter break and use the hours without lectures for private study.

That sounded like a lonely way to spend the next three weeks.

The idea struck Roman suddenly, and he sat bolt upright in bed, the kind of elation that only comes with golden inspiration coursing through him. He would persuade Logan to come back home with him for the holidays! If Janus took it to mind to ask Janine about him, she’d be able to verify that Logan didn’t socialise much; all he would have to do would be show up briefly for the wedding, and he could spend the remainder of the holiday studying all he wanted, away from ‘family stuff’!

He would ask Logan the following morning, and when he agreed, Roman would book the plane tickets home - he’d pay, of course. Or rather, he’d use the money his mother had sent him so that he could bring his fictional boyfriend home. Either way, Logan wouldn’t have to spend any money himself!

Laying back down, Roman pulled his thin blanket back up to his neck and rolled onto his side, satisfaction warming him more thoroughly than any hot drink could.

This was the best idea he’d ever had.

“That is the worst idea I have ever heard.” Logan glanced into the hallway over Roman’s shoulder as though expecting an audience for a practical joke. “I cannot believe you have wasted my time listening to you.”

“Is… That a maybe?” Roman tilted his head and gave Logan his best puppy eyes.

Alas, Logan’s heart must have been made of stone. “No.” He made to slam the door.

Well, Roman couldn’t have that. It had been difficult enough to get Logan to even open the door in the first place, and harder still to get him to listen beyond the initial “I need you to do me a huge favour, okay, but it works out for you too.” In hindsight, maybe he shouldn’t have led with that. But then he had explained, and for some reason Logan was still trying to close the door on him.

“Ow!”

“That was entirely your fault.”

“You just slammed the door on my foot!”

“You did put your foot there after I had begun closing the door. My point stands.”

Technically, Logan was correct, but Roman wasn’t there to quibble over technicalities. “You got the part where I’d pay for your flights, right? All you have to do is show up for one day in something resembling formalwear, and in return you get rent free accommodation and food all holiday! Plus company!”

“I have too much to do to pretend to be your boyfriend for three weeks for no reason. Find somebody else.” Logan made to close the door again, and this time Roman caught it with his hand.

“There is nobody else!” Roman was aware that he was beginning to sound desperate. “You’re like, the only person I know!”

“That sounds like your personal problem, not mine.” Several strands of hair had fallen from the impressive tangle around Logan’s ears and into his face, and he blew them out of the way. His breath smelled like coffee - bitter coffee. Roman wrinkled his nose. “Let go of my door.”

“Come on, Logan! What else are you going to be doing this holiday?”

“Studying! I have exams to pass!”

“You can study at my place. You won’t have to pay holiday rent there!”

“I won’t have to pay holiday rent if I go to my mom’s place, either! Let go of my door!”

Roman finally pulled his aching foot out of the way, but didn’t remove his hand from the wood. “You don’t want to go back to your mom’s place, though, do you? The phonecall -”

The glare that Logan sent him could have frozen the insides of a volcano, and his voice was suddenly cold enough to make Roman shiver. “Good day, Roman.” This time, Roman jerked his hand out of the way, and the door snapped shut in his face.

Shit. Maybe he shouldn’t have tried to use Logan’s ‘family stuff’ against him. He made a note of that for future reference, then hammered against the door again.

“Please, Logan!”

Silence.

“I’ll be forever in your debt!”

More silence. Maybe Logan would prefer something a little more extravagant?

“I’ll sing of your virtues from the rooftop every night for the rest of the year!”

Nothing.

Okay, maybe that had been a little much. Logan had made it clear that he was there to work and didn’t want to be disturbed in his caffeine fueled study crusades, so something excessive was possibly the wrong way to persuade him to do this.

Oh-

“I’ll pay for your coffee for the rest of the year?”

Roman held his breath and waited.

And waited.

Just when he thought that he had been wrong and that Logan really wasn’t going to be persuaded, the door opened the tiniest of amounts. Logan was still frowning at him, but some of the ice was gone from his expression.

“That’s your dealbreaker? Coffee?”

“I drink a lot of coffee.” A slight deepening in the crease between Logan’s eyes told Roman not to push the subject. “You need a date to a wedding. In return, you pay for my flight there and back, provide accommodation for the duration of the winter vacation, and keep me supplied with coffee for the rest of the year.”

“Well, a wedding, the reception, any pre-wedding parties, and keeping up the act while we’re around other people,” Roman corrected, counting on his fingers. From the irritated twitch of Logan’s left eye, he got the feeling that he hadn’t mentioned the reception or the potential stag night in his initial pitch.

“Blue Moon or Red Planet.”

“What?”

“The coffee. I like Blue Moon or Red Planet coffee. They’re more expensive, so I don’t expect them every time - maybe a ratio of three regular jars to one nice jar.”

Roman blinked. “Uh… Okay.”

Logan nodded once. More hair fell over his eyes. “I’ll draw up a schedule and provide you with estimated projections of my coffee habits for the rest of the year so you can budget accordingly. When do we leave?”

“Um… Monday.” Still reeling from Logan’s sudden and complete 180, Roman cast around for something to say, but the long haired man got there first.

“Monday. That gives us approximately two and a half days to draw boundaries and fabricate enough pictures and stories to give our deceit credibility.” Logan closed his eyes, and Roman realised that he was staring again. He hadn’t expected the other to take this in stride so quickly. “Given that I have work to finish today and you will likely need several hours on Sunday evening to pack… Have you told your family how long we have been romantically involved?”

“Uh, since January. But I told them you were shy, so we don’t have to have any pictures or anything - we can say that all our dates were just pizza and Netflix, and…” He tailed off at the incredulous look on Logan’s face. “What?”

“You expect them to believe that we have been dating for eleven months and you haven’t taken a single photo? Roman, I have listened to you belting the lyrics of more break-up songs than I care to count.” Roman shrugged, and Logan rolled his eyes. “You are quite clearly a romantic. Had we really been dating, the number of pictures you would have taken on whatever extravagance you planned for our six-month anniversary alone would be infinitesimal.”

He had a point.

Roman had already stretched his family’s belief in him to breaking point (and probably well past it) by refusing to share even the smallest thing about his ‘boyfriend’ over the past eleven months; if he didn’t get home on Monday with at least a couple of dozen photos to share, their charade would be over before it could ever really begin. “Right. You’re right. We’ll need to spend the weekend planning, doing a photoshoot - it’ll be fun!”

“You,” Logan started, already retreating, “obviously have a different definition of that word than I do. Eight thirty tomorrow morning, The Roost. Bring a notepad, your phone, and a couple of changes of clothing suitable for various weather conditions.”

“Eight thirty? A prince needs his beauty-”

“Eight thirty. We are going to do this properly.”

Roman’s phone was in his hand barely seconds after Logan’s door had closed (albeit more gently than before).

Groupchat: Princes and Co.

[Can’t wait for you to meet logan!]

Roman 09:58

[a name!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[we have a name!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!]

Trash Rat 09:59

[such a nice name! can’t wait either, ro!]

Pops 10:01

[About time! I’ve been stalling on the place settings for weeks waiting for this name]

Emo Nightmare 10:02

[Was about to fly out to LA to strangle it out of you]

Emo Nightmare 10:04

[he was. i had to physically restrain him from doing so yesterday]

Padre 10:04

[bet u both enjoyed that ;);););););)]

Trash Rat 10:04

Several people are typing…

[Suck a dick, Remus]

Emo Nightmare 10:05

[we did, actually]

Pops 10:05

[would but janjans at work :((]

Trash Rat 10:06

[Didn’t want to know, didn’t need to know.]

Roman 10:06

[Pat!]

Emo Nightmare 10:06

[Logan Ursa??? 4th yr medic??? Coffee addict???]

Snake Eyes 10:06

Roman stared at his phone for a second. That was faster than he had expected.

[u knew????? jan u held out on me??? the luv of ur greyspec life???]

Trash Rat 10:07

[You told Janus?! I’m your brother! He’s not even related to you!]

Emo Nightmare 10:07

[No I didn’t tell Janus!]

Roman 10:07

[I’m omniscient.]

Snake Eyes 10:08

[Plus I just asked Jannie for a list of all the Logans you could have associated with.]

Snake Eyes 10:09

[You and your sister scare me]

Roman 10:11

[He has surprisingly little internet presence.]

Snake Eyes 10:11

[Told you. He’s shy]

Roman 10:12

Sliding his phone back into his pocket, Roman returned to his room and picked up his laptop, this time to actually book the tickets he was supposed to have booked weeks ago. He had no doubt that they would arrive on Monday to discover that his family had already unearthed everything there was to know about his fake boyfriend - should he break that news to Logan before or after they were on the plane? Making the man paranoid might make their weekend photoshoot a lot more difficult.

Their photoshoot! If Logan was really on board, Roman would have to make this as easy as possible for him - and the performance of a lifetime for himself. Given that he was expected to bring a notebook to their meeting tomorrow, they were going to have to do a lot of brainstorming, so he might as well start coming up with ideas now. He already had a few as he grabbed a notepad from the mess on the floor and started hunting for a pencil.

No matter what his fake date said, this weekend was going to be a lot of fun.

#AUgust 2021 #fake dating au #logince #moxiety #dukeceit

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